My head snaps towards Dad. His mother—isn't she dead, though? When I notice the look in Dad's eyes, I realize that I'm not the only one who is shocked to hear this news. I watch Dad shake his head before scoffing in disbelief. However, his behavior is confusing me right now.

"My mother has been alive all this time?"

"So it would seem. Poppy examined her and tested her blood against the sample we had here at Hogwarts. It confirmed her identity as being Eileen Prince. She is your mother, Severus."

Sounding horribly clinical as he speaks, Dad asks, "Approximately how long was she held there would you estimate?" His posture actually is rather stiff like he doesn't really want to know the answer.

"Severus," Dumbledore softly says.

"No, answer me, Albus. How long would you say she's been there?"

"I'd estimate she's been there since you were a second-year."

Dad only nods in response to Dumbledore. His face doesn't seem to give away if he's pleased with this revelation or not. He then glances towards Mum before pinching his lips together as if he has just ate something sour.

"Then it would seem Tobias lied when he informed you of her passing."

"So it would seem," Dumbledore replies quietly.

"What injuries has she sustained during her time in captivity?"

"I admit that I came down here as soon as Poppy had confirmed her identity."

"She's in the hospital wing?"

"Yes."

Mum then stands before she lightly pushes Dad towards the portrait guarding our rooms. "Go on, Severus," she says. "I'll take care of things down here while you're gone." She then scoffs when Dad just stares at her. "Don't even try to apologize. Just go. We understand." She then pushes him again towards the portrait. "Now go." Dad then inclines his head towards her before briskly walking out of our rooms. "I apologize for this, but—"

"No, it's all right, Professor," Fred says with a smile. "We understand." He and the others then silently walk out of our quarters. They don't seem to be at all upset by having the party cut short.

"Do you want us to go then, too?" Draco asks Mum.

"Of course I don't," she responds. She then glances towards Syra. "Do you have something to say, Mother?" she suddenly asks coldly.

"Eileen Prince returns from the grave," Syra responds with a thin smile. "Well, I guess what they say is true then. You can't bring a person back from the dead," she spits out with a nasty sneer.

"Meaning what, Mother?"

"Oh, you could say that I've had past . . . encounters with her."

Orin suddenly interrupts. "Well, I think now would be a good time if we went to our own rooms. Don't you agree, Syra?" he says with a large fake smile. "There's no need for us to be here." He then places his hand just above Syra's elbow to steer her towards the portrait.

"And miss Eileen's homecoming?" Syra says, feigning outrage. "Orin, no, we can't miss that."

"Syra, let's go," Orin responds, pushing his wife towards the door. "Now," he hisses.

"Dad," Mum quietly says puzzled. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Aura," he replies, chuckling before tugging on his collar. "You and Severus are just going to be busy taking care of Eileen. No need for either of us to be here and get in the way." He then glares towards Syra when she lets out a harsh laugh. "Well, best be on our way. See you soon, Aura." He then glances at us and forces the smile to remain on his face. "That was a great game, boys." Without another word, he quickly pulls Syra behind him and briskly walks out of the room with her.

"Does anyone else get the feeling that Syra and Eileen don't get along?" I ask, glancing at Mum.

"Don't look at me. I thought Severus's mother was dead."

"So did the rest of the world," Draco responds haughtily. "Do you want us to watch Celes?"

"If you would," Mum says, sighing. "I promise, boys. Severus and I are going to stop using you like this all the time. I know that you two don't like to be babysitting—"

"Oh, please," Draco says with a snort. "We sneak down here to spend more time with her."

"Be as that may, we're her parents, not you, Draco. You're not supposed to watch her all the time. We are." Mum then shakes her head. "However, I'm not sure how exactly we're supposed to handle this situation. She'd likely faint after suddenly learning that she had three grandchildren. I mean, I know I would if I hadn't been properly prepped for it."

"How about we go out for awhile and leave you and Severus to handle the situation? Then you can send a house elf or something to tell it's all right to come back?"

"And just where are you three going to be?"

"The tower," Angel quickly says. "Draco and Harry and I are gonna go up to the tower, Mummy. Draco's friends had to do something anyway. I heard them talking about it earlier."

"You're planning to go to Gryffindor Tower?"

"Uh-huh," Angel replies, nodding fiercely. "Is that all right, Mummy?"

"And what are you three planning to do there?"

"I'm gonna watch Harry play Gobstones with the others."

"All right," Mum responds, glancing at Draco and me. She clearly doesn't seem to buy Angel's words. In fact, suspicion etches every part of Mum's face. "I'll send a house elf when it's safe."

Draco and I both nod, not saying a word when Angel grabs our hands and pulls us to the portrait. I think we're at a loss at finding the right words to say that we want to stay but unable to do so. I mean, there is just something off about the way Syra has described Dad's mum. If I don't know any better, I'd say that we are leaving Mum to a pack of wolves. But Dad's mum can't be that bad. Can she?

I then glance at Draco. He clearly is wondering the same thing. Are we going to regret leaving Mum by herself down here? I mean, sure, Dad's coming back, but so much has happened this year already. What if that crazy Mezra lady shows up again and we aren't here to protect Mum? Or, what if Syra is right with her nastiness about Dad's mum? Can we live with ourselves if something happens?

"Come on, Harry," Angel whines, tugging on my hand. "We have to go."

I glance over my shoulder to look at Mum. I see her unease, but she smiles and nods. Turning around, I decide that Draco and I are worrying over nothing. We have to be. Nothing's going to happen.

~SS~

While I've been playing Exploding Snap against Ron up here in the tower, Angel has been talking to some of the other Gryffindors quietly in the corner as Draco quizzes Hermione over our Defense quiz that we have Tuesday. I'm rather certain that Draco is just doing this so he can sit next to Hermione on the sofa. After the twentieth game of me losing, I look over at Draco as Ron brings out a new deck of cards to start up another game.

My brother is a slick git. I can give him that. I mean, Ron's not even noticing how close Draco is sitting next to her. Then again, everyone knows that Ron is competitive as all hell. So, he's entirely focused on beating me in every game of Exploding Snap rather than noticing that Draco's hand is a mere inch from Hermione's. Idly, I wonder if Hermione even knows that Draco's that close.

When Draco catches my glance a few moments later, he slowly inclines his head at me. It's been three hours, and we haven't heard a thing from Mum. Sighing heavily, I glance back at my cards and shake my head. I'm going to lose again. I know it.

"Want to play Wizard's Chess instead, mate?" Ron asks, looking up at me with a frown.

"No. I just wish we'd hear something."

"They're likely busy, Harry," Hermione offers from the couch. "I mean, Professor Snape's mother does have a lot to catch up on."

"Yeah," I respond moodily. "But it's the not knowing that is killing me."

"You don't reckon she's like Snape, do you?"

My head whips towards Ron. I can't help it. I glare at the prat. I mean, just what the hell does he mean by that? Snape's my dad now. Granted, Dad's still a bit of a git sometimes, but that's just who he is. He's clearly relaxed some in Potions this year. He's not snarling at us for every little mistake we do.

"I'm just saying, mate," Ron says, holding his hands up.

"Do you have some sort of problem with my dad, Ron?" I snarl, standing up.

"Merlin," Draco drawls behind us. "Potter, he doesn't mean anything by it. Weasley's mouth just shot off before his brain could stop him. So just calm down," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder.

Shaking his hand off, I glare at my brother before quickly storming off towards the dormitory. Of course, as I walk past Draco, my shoulder bangs into his. Honestly, who the hell does he think he is to tell me to calm down? He's the one who is trying to get into Hermione's knickers with my best mate in the goddamn room.

"Harry," Hermione says quietly. "Please, Harry, stop!"

I don't stop, though. I keep on walking up the stairs and promptly slam my hand against the door to the boy's dormitory to open it before letting it swing shut. Neville is the only other person up here right now. But he doesn't say anything as I breeze past to my bed. After flopping onto the mattress, I snap my curtains shut, effectively ending any attempts of conversation.

Pressing my face against the pillow, I attempt to fall asleep. I block out everything: the sound of Neville debating whether he should get Hermione and Ron, the crackling of the fire, and the rain pelting against the glass window. I just want to sleep and forget this horrible feeling I have in my gut. How can that arrogant prat tell me to calm down? How can he tell me that when we haven't heard so much as a peep from Mum and Dad in three hours? How can he tell me that?

For about ten minutes, I just lay there, staring up at the crimson canopy. If I were any other person, I'd have blasted the damn things to shreds in utter frustration. I then sigh. My anger isn't helping matters. Drawing in slow, even breaths, I release them a moment later. I repeat this process for a half-dozen times, gradually calming myself to the point where my eyelids start to close. I then succumb to my slumber, hoping that when I awake everything is back to normal and all right.

~SS~

In my dream, I find myself sitting on a large silver high-backed chair in a familiar large black marble room. My fingers are tapping against the polished armrests. A person soon emerges from the black mist, making me glance up and look at them. I then growl quietly as I force a smile to my face.

"What news do you have for me today?"

"That wizard wishes to speak with you again, Mezra," the man responds, bowing his head.

"Oh, how I do grow tired of that pest," I drawl, rolling my eyes. "What does he wish this time?"

"To have a private audience with you, Mezra," he answers quietly.

"Concerning?" I ask, drumming my fingers.

"He would not tell me."

"Oh," I say with a harsh laugh. "The little wizard thinks highly of me, does he? Perhaps a private audience is needed. Don't you agree?"

"If that is what you wish, Mezra," he replies with a slight shake in his voice.

"Well, bring our esteemed wizard in." I then stand as I wait for him to walk in. Sure enough, the little dark wizard walks in with glistening red eyes. I just stare at him, wanting to tell him that the snake look is so old. I mean, I've been around for centuries. I've seen it all from the lowers. They do not surprise me anymore. They are like ants. Kill one to have ten more return in its place. This one is no different from any of the other dark wizards who came before him.

"Good evening, Lady Mezra," the reptilian man drawls.

"Speak your mind, Wizard. I need no attempts of flattery from you," I respond calmly.

"As you wish, Mezra," he says, inclining his head. "In my opinion, our agreement is going rather well. We have put fear in the hearts of the public. They will bow down to us in the end. I can feel it."

"Us?" quietly I ask. "My dear wizard, I can see into your mind. There is no 'us' in there."

"No, no, that is not true, Mezra," he immediately replies. "We will rule together."

"Now, my little wizard, even you can hear the falsehood in that statement. You will attempt to dispose me once it is over. I am quite aware of this." I watch the anger enter his eyes. "Oh, do not try to hide it, little wizard. It makes no difference to me if you believe that you can rid yourself of me later. After all, you are only doing what is best for yourself, a trait that is in every lower dark wizard before you." I then flash a soft smile. "Ah, forgive me, little wizard. Where are my manners? You wished to speak to me in private." I then glance towards my loyal subject, kneeling before me. "Rise and leave us," I say to the kneeling man. I say nothing as he joins the others in the black mist. "Now, Wizard, I believe there is the matter of your payment that we must discuss." I softly laugh when he glances at me. "Have no worries, little wizard. It shall be quick." Darkness suddenly blocks out everything.

"Potter," a voice says somewhere in the black. "Potter, wake up," the voice says more urgently.

"What?" I respond groggily. Slowly, I watch a light filter through the darkness before a room comes into focus. Oh, that's right. I've come up here to fall asleep. All of that before is just a dream. My head lulls to the side to glance at my intruder. I then sigh. "Dammit, Draco," I growl. "Leave me alone."

He then punches me hard in the shoulder, forcing me to roll back over to look at him. I notice at once that he's clearly upset about something. My gut instantly contracts in anticipation. Oh, no!

"Have you seen Celes?" he asks.

"What?" I suddenly sit up and glare at him. "You lost our sister!" I yell.

"I haven't necessarily lost her. She's still in the Tower."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," he snaps back.

"Are Fred and George still downstairs?"

"No. They went up hours ago."

"Lovely," I bitingly reply. I then get up out of bed and stalk out the door. Silently, I head to the seventh-year boys room with Draco following close behind. Pushing open the door, I walk in. But I stop right at the door when I see the familiar silhouette all snuggled up next to one of the seventh-years. "Shit." I then glance at Draco.

"Double shit," he replies before glancing back.

"One of us is going to have to go over there," I quietly say.

"And say what? Weasel, release my sister?" Draco then scoffs. "I'm a Slytherin, Potter. You're the Gryffindor." He then pushes me towards the two sleeping figures.

"I'm sure there's a completely logical reason behind this," I whisper. "And it's not what we're thinking at all." I then glance towards Draco and gulp when I notice his 'yeah right' look. That's what I'm thinking, too. It is exactly what I'm thinking. It has to be.

"Well, hello there, beautiful."

I grit my teeth at the sound of Fred's voice. How dare he talk to Angel like that! She's four!

"Hi, Fred," she softly replies.

"Your brothers are here now." His head slowly comes up before he glances at us. "I think you should go with them, Prince. They don't seem to like you up here with me."

I just glare back at Fred. We don't like it? That isn't even the half of it. I mean, she's four. He's not supposed to talk to her like he likes her like that. I then feel Draco's hand on my shoulder again.

"Go on, Prince. Go with your brothers."

Slowly, I watch Angel get out of bed. She's at least still dressed in her little Slytherin uniform. She, however, doesn't look happy with us. In fact, she has Dad's glare on Draco and me. Draco only holds out his hand and quietly walks away with her.

"Now, Harry—"

"Save it!" I snap. "Don't ever bring her up here into your room again!"

Fred scoffs before sitting up. He seems amused by this entire thing. In fact, there is no anger in response to mine. He then glances around at the other seventh-years, who are now wide awake.

"She came up here on her own, Harry," he explains. "I didn't bring her up here with me."

"Why would she do that?"

"Well, I'd imagine it's because she fancies me."

"Fancies you?" I squawk. "She's four, Fred!"

"Even four-year-olds fancy people, Harry," he replies with a laugh. He then sobers up slightly. "I'll stay away from your sister if you keep her from doing the same. I don't want Snape to think I'm corrupting her or anything."

I slowly nod, feeling my anger start to leave me. Why the hell am I so upset over this? I mean, it's my best mate's brother. Fred isn't a creep or anything. I then sigh and shake my head.

"Hey, don't feel bad. That's just your big brother side taking over. I understand. Hell, if I'd caught someone in bed with Gin, I'd have done the same thing." He then laughs again. "There's just something about little sisters that make you want to protect them for life. So no hard feelings, Harry," he says smiling. "You're just being a big brother to her."

"You really think she fancies you?"

"Are you joking? I'm the cutest guy here at Hogwarts," Fred jokes.

George then pipes up and says, "Nah, I am."

"Oh, please," he drawls laugh. "She came to me, not you, George. I'm the cuter one."

"She tried to come to me first, though. I sent her your way, though."

I stare at the twins in disbelief. I honestly don't see how they can be so carefree about this whole thing. I mean, Angel has crawled into one of their beds. If Dad ever finds out—

"Oh, gee, thanks, George. Are you going to send Snape my way, too?"

"Well, that's a given, Fred. See, the way I imagine it, when Snape finds out that his little girl was in your bed, well, I'm going to be the cutest guy in all of Hogwarts then." George then laughs loudly. "Because Snape is going to turn you into his newest ingredient," he explains. "But don't worry, brother. I'll buy you."

I wish I can share their playfulness. Turning around, I slowly walk out of the seventh-year room and head downstairs to the common room, where I know Angel and Draco are. What am I going to say? I mean, what can I say?

I then hear Draco say, "We were just concerned where you were, Celes. You see, we don't want anything bad to happen to you. We love you too much for that, and it'll hurt us if you get hurt."

"I just wanted to be with Fred," she stubbornly replies.

"Yeah, but think about it this way, Celes. What if Severus had been the one to catch you with him? Do you know what he would have done?" Draco then lowers his voice. "Severus would have killed him for touching you like that."

"He didn't do anything," she argues.

"Well, I know that, and I bet even Harry knows that deep down, but Severus is your father." He then gently holds Angel's chin to force her to keep looking at him. "Good fathers will stop at nothing to make sure their kids aren't hurt by anyone. And Severus is a good father."

"Nuh-uh," she counters, shaking her head. "He's the best one."

"That he is, Celes," Draco says with a soft smile.

"Dray, can we go see Mummy now?"

He sighs, staring at her for a few moments. He clearly wants to say yes. However, he seems to be wrestling with himself over it. His mouth in fact opens and closes several times before he finally just settles with a shrug.

"Mum said she'd contact us, El," I say, speaking up as I walk into the common room.

"I know, Harry. But I think Mummy needs a friend."

My eyes narrow on my little sister. Mum needs a friend? Why? I mean, Dad has to be with her by now so everything has to be going all right. They're just probably busy with Dad's mum. Slowly inhaling, I think of a good reason why we can't go down there to tell Angel.

"Please, Harry. Can we go see Mummy now?" Angel asks again.

"El, Mum said she'd contact us," I remind gently.

"What if she's hurt, though?"

"Dad's with her, El."

"But what if Daddy's hurt, too?" she argues.

"El, everything is—"

"It won't hurt anything to check," Draco quietly says, glancing towards me.

I stare at him in disbelief. This is Draco Malfoy, Mr. Alpha male of Slytherin himself, telling me that it isn't going to hurt anything to check on Mum and Dad. It can hurt a whole hell of a lot. Well, maybe it isn't going to. After all, El has some urge to see Mum, and I admit that I want see her too.

"You can tell Mummy that I wanted to see her," Angel offers.

I softly laugh, shaking my head. Yeah, because that is so going to help when Mum sees us. I hold my hand out to Angel and motion with my head to Draco that we can go. Well, this is either going to go well or not. I suppose the good thing about this is that we have Angel to use as an excuse. Though, I doubt Mum is really going to be all that upset. I've rarely seen her angry about anything. Actually, I've seen her angry when a student claimed Astronomy was a waste of time. But that's about it.

~SS~

A few minutes later, we walk into the familiar rooms in the dungeons that Slytherin guards. It's quiet and empty it seems. Looking at each other, Draco takes lead with me holding Angel back. We're likely thinking the same thing. I mean, where is everyone? Have Mum and Dad gone to bed already?

"Severus? Aurora?" Draco calls out with his wand in his hand.

We hear someone rummaging around in the master bedroom, which makes us head towards it. The door luckily is open so when we approach, Draco throws out his arm to stop us before he heads inside. Well, obviously I can't just stand there with Angel while Draco is being blasted to bits, okay, so that hasn't happened, but knowing my luck that is exactly what is going to happen.

"Lower your wand, Draco. It's just me," Mum says softly from somewhere over by the bed.

The torches then flicker to life around the room, lighting it up in a soft warm glow. Mum is sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. She has a sort of funny look on her face, but she doesn't say anymore to us.

"Is everything all right?"

"I'm not sure, boys," Mum replies quietly. "I haven't heard anything from Severus in awhile."

"He hasn't been down here?" I squawk. "But it's been like four hours, Mum."

"I know." Mum then sighs heavily. "She's been a prisoner of war for nearly twenty-five years, though." She glances at her hands before she frowns. "There's no telling what sort of state his mother is in, mentally or even physically at this pointed I'd imagine. Voldemort is famous for his unique ways to torture an individual." Mum then shakes her head before sighing again.

"So she could be a bit out of sorts then?"

"I'd be amazed if she wasn't. I know that my ex—encounter with him changed me."

"He captured you?"

"Twice, yes," Mum answers quietly. "Each time taught me a lesson, however."

"You escaped?"

"No. The 'Merciful' Lord," she spits out with a fierce look on her face, "allowed me to leave."

"Why?"

Mum then glances at us before frowning again. She clearly doesn't look like she wants to tell us. However, she slowly opens her mouth a moment later and speaks.

"Because I did my job," she simply responds.

"Which was what?" I ask without thinking. I instantly catch Mum's pained look.

"Something of which neither one of you two boys need to know," she answers quietly.

"Does Dad know?"

"I'm certain he is aware, yes, but I've never informed him." She then taps her hand against her leg before staring at me. "There are some things that a person like Severus doesn't need to know, Harry. It only ends up torturing that person, and I don't want to bring him anymore pain to his life."

"But, Mum—"

"Harry, that's enough," she interrupts, shaking her head. She then forces a polite smile to her face. "I understand you're dislike of secrets in families and friends. And I agree with you, Harry. Secrets are like a disease that slowly pollutes the good in a person. However, there are some secrets that just can't be divulged." She gives me a calculating look before deciding to say more. "There are secrets that Severus keeps from all of us to protect us. I know that. You know that. Draco and Angel even know that. And there are secrets that you know that you still refuse to tell to any of us. It's understandable, yes, but sometimes secrets make the world better."

"And sometimes they make it worse," I point out.

"Yes, sometimes they do," she agrees before sighing. "Severus knows the basic information. He doesn't need to know the specifics because I bet he already does. He was in Voldemort's ranks for years, Harry. He saw terrible things that none of us could imagine. And as frightening as it is to think about, he likely even has done some things that would shock and appall us if we knew. I'm naïve enough to think that he hasn't, but I assure you that I will never ask him. Do you know why?" When I don't respond, she speaks. "Quite frankly, I don't want to know, Harry. I don't want to learn something someday that might make me do something that I'd regret later. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," I reply quietly. My eyes then dart towards the door when I hear the portrait close in the sitting room. Dad is home. I glance towards Mum and watch her slowly rise. This conversation clearly is over now, which I suppose is for the best. "Do you want us to go, Mum?"

"No, come with me," she answers. Brushing past me, she walks out of the door and down the darkened hallway. We follow close behind her, holding Angel's hands

When we reach the sitting room, I glance around Mum and watch Dad gently help an elderly witch sit on the sofa. I don't necessarily see her, though, because Dad is standing in front of her, but I can hear the woman's soft voice.

Mum flicks her hand towards the fireplace, nonverbally levitating a few pieces of wood into the fire. A moment later, she inclines her head as Dad turns around to glance at her before turning back to his mother. She then walks a few steps closer towards them, but still far enough back that she's not in the witch's line of sight.

"Who are you looking at, Severus?" Dad's mum softly asks.

"My wife," Dad answers quietly.

"Your wife?" she repeats before laughing scornfully. "No doubt it's that Muggleborn you were fawning over when you were younger."

"No, Mother," he responds, shaking his head slightly.

"It's not the Muggleborn?"

"No, ma'am, I'm in fact a pureblood," Mum says, stepping finally into the woman's line of sight.

"I see," the witch replies. "Well, have you bore any children for my son yet?"

"Mother," Dad quietly warns.

I glance at Draco and catch his pinched up face as he grimaces with me. I suppose we should have expected that question. I mean, Mum is in her mid-30s as is Dad. And from what I've learned so far, witches and wizards typically marry very young.

"Yes, we have a four year old daughter together," Mum says with a smile, ignoring Dad's look. "We also have two adoptive teenage sons."

"Adoption?" the elderly witch responds scornfully. "Why would you adopt first before even attempting to have children with my son?"

Mum then turns to glance at us before motioning for us to walk closer. She places a hand on Draco's shoulder before placing another on mine. Angel stands in front of Mum, staring quizzically at the black-robed witch on the sofa.

"This is our eldest, Draco. He is the grandson of Abraxas Malfoy," Mum quietly says.

I watch the witch's dark eyes dart to Draco. I can't help it. I flinch at the sneer she has on her face as she looks him over. I can see a clear likeness between Dad and his mum with that look. I then take in her appearance for the first time.

The witch is horribly thin as if she hasn't touched food in years. In fact, her cheeks are horribly sunken in, giving her the appearance of being a living and breathing skeleton. As if her face is painted by some struggling artist, various-colored bruises and numerous jagged lacerations litter her sallow face. Blood and grime cakes her long straight raven hair, making it scream its pleas of being washed soon. Much like a Dementor, her black icy eyes draw the warmth out of the room. She doesn't seem to be at all tired-looking, however, or even defeated. She just seems to be sitting there, taking in everything.

"And this is our middle child you could say, Harry. He's Lily Evans' son."

"I see," the witch responds, not giving away if she thinks it's a good thing or not.

"Both of the boys' parents died, so we brought them into our family."

"I see." The witch's lip twitches slightly as she stares at Mum for a moment. Her dark sinister eyes then glance away and she resumes her staring at the fireplace. She clearly looks upset about something, but she doesn't elaborate.

"Have I done something wrong?" Mum asks, rather confused.

"Oh, I assure you, my dear. You'll know when you've done something wrong," the witch replies darkly. There's just something in her voice. It's positively frightening. Her eyes then dart towards Dad. "Severus, perhaps it'd be prudent now if you directed me to the nearest shower." She then forces a thin smile to her face.

Dad points towards the lavatory without a word. When he gently tries to help her stand up, she swats his hands away a moment later. He then takes a step back from her to give her some space.

"Thank you, Severus." His mother then calmly walks past us. The door closes behind her.

"Is she going to be all right?"

"Pomfrey believes so with time, yes. However, she needs her rest," Dad responds. He then frowns before glancing at us. "I apologize, but Angel is going to have to room with you for awhile."

"We understand, Dad."

Mum then kisses Dad on the cheek before slowly walking towards the master bedroom. What is she doing? A moment later, she emerges with silver robes in hand. She quietly knocks against the lavatory door before slipping in. The door clicks shut behind her.

"Dad, I dreamt something a little while ago," I say, glancing towards him.

"Oh?" he asks, narrowing his eyes on me.

"I was Mezra, and he was there." I know that I don't need to specify who he is. "They seemed to be talking about a partnership together. Only she didn't seem to be too thrilled with him anymore."

"I'd imagine not," Dad responds. "Is there anything of particular interest about this dream?"

"She said something about discussing the matter of payment."

"Well, her people likely are involved in it now. I read the accounts just as you did."

"Why would she work together with him, though? I mean, she's after Mum. What does he have that she'd want?"

"I'd imagine the real question would be what she has that he wants. His followers are losing strength it would seem in the recent raids, but he was never known to take orders from anyone. And he sure as hell would never allow someone to rule with him."

"She thought he might double cross her."

"Smart woman," Dad replies.

"Well, the only other time I dreamt of her she was talking about some weapon, 'Deras.' I've never heard of it, though."

"And you likely wouldn't have, young Harry," Declan replies, appearing out of nowhere. "Deras is its Elder name. In the Wizarding World, it was known as the Sword of Slytherin." The vampire then smiles softly. His two pointy fangs are just barely sticking out. "Forgive me, Severus. However, I've just learned that your mother has arrived."

"She has."

"Oh, yes, um, you see this interests me only because of the, well, the ongoing feud between her and Syra. No doubt you've noticed a certain, well, iciness when she's around Aurora."

"I've noticed no such thing, Declan."

"Truly?" the vampire replies shocked. "I-I don't know what to say. She has made no such remark towards Aurora?" he asks, staring at Dad oddly.

"Not that I've noticed from her. Why?"

"Oh, well, that is surprising." Declan then holds up a hand. "Now, I mean, no disrespect when I say this, Severus, but your mother has a bit of a, well, a grudge that she's held for years."

"My mother was held by Voldemort for nearly twenty-five years, Declan," Dad responds.

"Yes, so I've heard." The vampire sighs before running a hand through his hair. "There is no easy way to say this. Your father nearly died once, coming home from a pub one night. It was before you were conceived I believe." He then grimaces before sighing again. "Syra met him in a darkened alley and mistook his drunken stupor as to be that of a Muggle wishing to attack her. She drew her wand with the intention of killing him when your mother found them together. I am not certain, but I do believe there was a duel between the witches."

"Who won?" quietly I ask, feeling oddly intrigued.

"I never thought to ask, young master Harry." Declan then glances towards the closed lavatory where we hear no sounds.

"Should I be concerned?"

"About your mother and Aurora?" replies the vampire as he turns to glance at Dad. "I've never had the pleasure of meeting your mother, so I am unable to offer a true opinion on this matter. However, Orin has asked me to inform you of certain, well, certain events." He then chuckles softly at Dad's defensive posture. "I'm not here because your father-in-law doesn't trust you to protect his daughter, Severus. It's quite the opposite in fact. I am here so you know all the facts so you are prepared beforehand to ensure nothing occurs between your wife and your mother."

"Why was Syra in an alley known to be littered with Muggles that night?" Dad asks, folding his arms. He seems puzzled by this mystery.

"Ah, yes, I had thought you'd wonder about that. Well, the short answer is because she finds Muggles to be . . . interesting creatures."

"And the long answer?"

"Is unfortunately one that I cannot divulge, Severus," replies Declan with a sigh. "I am sorry, but Lady Syra has forbid me from disclosing that particular family secret."

"Does it concern this Azrial business?"

"Partly, yes, mostly no, though," answers the vampire. "You and young master Harry asked me once what Azrial meant. I believe I can inform you a bit more of it now, Severus."

"Why?"

"Certain events are showing themselves now unfortunately."

"My mother's return?" asks Dad, narrowing his eyes on Declan.

"And the fountain at the Ministry running red with blood, yes," he replies. He then places his hands behind his back as if a military officer. "During Merlin's Age, an ancestor to Orin found herself bearing a child conceived out of a forced encounter. This young woman went to a Seer to learn if the child would have any worth to the world. If the child was powerful and brought change, then she would keep the child. If it did not, she was willing to abort it."

"That's horrible," I say, feeling horribly sick to my stomach.

"Yes, I agree, but there were not a lot of options back then, young master Harry. She knew that she could not provide for a child and raise it by herself." Declan then sighs with a frown. "So during their consultation, the Seer placed a hand on the woman's abdomen. According to my brothers who were there, the Seer prophesized a child would be born centuries from then. It would be the grandchild of two feuding sisters, who were both cast out by their peers. One of the sisters would join with a prominent wizard of the time and bear his child in secret. The sister's child, a girl, later when given the option would choose to embrace the gifts left by her mother, casting off her magic. When of age, the sister's daughter then would join with a wizard and would bear him a daughter, who would be born when the year begins anew. The Seer then stated the word 'Azrial' in reference to this daughter."

"Wait, so this is Mum's family?" I ask, interrupting Declan. He only inclines his head to me.

"My people found later that 'Azrial' was from the Elders." He draws in a slow breath. "The word means 'of two worlds."

"But if you're right, then wouldn't Syra be the 'Azrial' then?" Draco asks, clearly having followed the odd conversation.

"Aurora was born January 1, 1961 at midnight," Declan simply answers. "And when she accepts both her Elder gifts and her magic, she will be the 'Azrial."

"Is that possible to do, though?"

"It is. Extremely hard to do, mind you, but it is possible, young Draco."

"What did you mean earlier by saying that certain events are leading to it?" I ask.

"My clan has lived at Windsor ever since Orin's father allowed us to live out in the forest in exchange for us helping him maintain the estates. There were whispers among some of the older members." He then frowns. "One of my brothers in fact sired a Seer, whom he is now married to. Though, I swear if I could, I'd kill the woman for all of her theories. She reminds me a bit of your Seer Trelawney." He shakes his head, attempting to get back onto the subject at hand. "During her rebirth as she lost her magic, she gave one last prophecy. A child beating Death at his own game leads an enemy's return prior to the blood running through a fountain, which signals a tortured soul's arrival for the lost element's reclamation."

"Oh," I quietly say for the lack of anything better.

"Lost element's reclamation," Dad repeats before sighing.

"The sword," I respond, glancing at him. "It has to mean the sword, Dad."

"Enough about that sword, Harry," Dad says, looking at me with a frown.

"I keep dreaming about it, though. I mean, the other day I was Slytherin talking to Gryffindor about it. Slytherin said he'd give it back after he killed a smoky black figure. What if he didn't, though? What if it's still here, Dad? We could—"

"Harry, there is no sword."

I then growl under my breath before whirling around and walking to my room. I know it's in my History of Magic book. I've only been looking at that picture for months now. Walking quickly, I snatch the book from my desk and whirl around again to head back. I can see Dad's annoyance with me, but he doesn't say anything. I open the book to the page and hold it out to him.

"Look. They both have swords, Dad."

"That doesn't mean anything, Harry. It was common for wizards to have swords back then."

"But, Dad—"

"No, Harry, we are not going on some treasure hunt to find some sword that may or may not be real." He then sighs. "I understand that you want to do something, but no, Harry."

"Dad, this Mezra lady wants to kill Mum."

"I'm well aware of that, Harry. The Dark Lord has even tried this summer. We cannot afford to go looking for something that may not exist."

"But it's in the—"

"Yes, and if you read the Quibbler, you'd swear Scrimgeour is a vampire, too."

"But, Dad—"

"No, Harry, and that's final. No." Dad then glances at Draco and Angel before shaking his head. "Please take your sister to your room, gentlemen."

"Dad, what if this—"

"Harry," he snarls, glaring at me. "That is enough. You are not going to search for that sword. That's final. Do you understand?" He then steps closer to me. "If you even so much as think about searching for that damn sword, Harry, I will make damn sure you are off the Quidditch team and be escorted to your classes by Declan here. Is that understood?"

"Yeah," I reply bitingly. "I understand, Dad."

"Good. Now, I expect all three of you to go to bed."

I whirl around angrily, walking with Angel and Draco behind me. I can't believe him. What if that sword can keep Mum safe from the damn psychopaths after her? Isn't that worth it? I'm so blinded with my rage that I barely notice Mum emerging from our room. I instantly grimace as we collide into one another.

"You all right, Harry?" Mum asks as she steadies us.

"Fine," I snap, brushing past her to fall onto my bed.

"What's wrong with him, Draco?"

"Daddy got mad with him because Harry loves you too much, Mummy," Angel softly replies.

"What?"

"Harry wants to find the Sword of Slytherin because he thinks that it might protect you from Mezra and her followers. Severus, however, doesn't want to hear it. So, he got upset with Harry."

"I see." Mum then sighs, while likely staring at my back. "Make sure he doesn't get into anymore trouble, will you, Draco?"

"I will," he responds coolly.

I then hear the door close, which makes me turn my head to it. Draco only walks with Angel in his arms over to his bed. Am I so wrong for wanting to make sure that my mum stays alive? Is that so wrong? I shake my head when I receive no response. Fine, the damn git can rot in hell for all I care.

I'm just trying to protect Mum for God's sake! I never had the chance to do that when I was a toddler and Voldemort was after my real parents. So forgive me for trying to make sure that I'm not made an orphan again by some sick son of a bitch. I don't want to lose Mum. Is that so goddamn hard to understand? I don't want any more deaths to be because of me! And I especially don't want the deaths to be Mum, who loves all of us so much. Dammit! I hit my pillow. I don't want to lose another mother.

"Is everything all right, Mother?" Dad's voice filters in through the cracks a few minutes later.

I growl and glare at the door. My anger instantly evaporates. The walls, they're transparent again. My eyes dart to Draco to find him staring at it too. Angel, however, doesn't seem to be at all shocked by this development. In fact, she seems to be watching Dad very closely.

"El, please tell me you're not doing that," I quietly say, staring at my little sister.

"Okay, Harry. I'm not doing it," she replies, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Oh, who cares if she is doing it?" Draco mumbles. "I for one want to hear this conversation." His grey eyes then dart back to the walls to watch Dad and his mother very closely.

At first, I don't see Mum, but then she walks further into the sitting room. She still doesn't seem angry. She looks perfectly relaxed in fact as she folds her arms and sits in the armchair across from Dad.

"Yes, Severus, everything is fine." She then sighs. "I suppose this is where you interrogate me?"

"It's not every day one's mother returns from the veil, Eileen," Mum says with a soft smile.

"Yes, Albus informed me that I was considered dead." Dad's mum's dark eyes then glance towards Dad and narrow on him. "Am I correct in my assumption that you refused to go to my funeral?"

"You are," Dad answers calmly.

"He became worse, didn't he? After I supposedly died, I mean?" she asks.

"Yes. However, I left after my third year."

"Where did you go, Severus? Don't tell me you lived on the streets."

"No, I went to a former friend's house," Dad replies. "His family was very gracious."

"I see. And your father?" she asks. "What occurred with him?"

"I killed him when I was sixteen to join the Dark Lord's ranks."

His mum doesn't visibly react at all to that confession. She just sits there on the sofa, staring at Dad. Her nostrils then flare for a second before the corner of her lips upturn just slightly.

"You were a Death Eater?"

"Yes," Dad confirms. He slowly rolls up his sleeve then and shows her his left forearm. "I do not serve that monster now, though. I have been loyal to Albus for sixteen years."

"Loyalty," his mum says before giving a short laugh. "Forgive me, Severus, but it seems to me that you've went from serving one monster to serving a whole different creature now. I wonder if you follow his orders as blindly as you no doubt followed your Dark Lord's."

Dad visibly flinches. However, a moment later, he relaxes slightly and says nothing to her harsh words. Instead he sits in his armchair, just staring at her.

"Tell me, Severus. How did it feel to murder the man who played a part in your conception?" Her voice is soft as she speaks, but hard as ice. "Did his death satisfy you? Did it make up for all those years where he beat us until we could barely breathe through the blood?"

"At the time, yes," answers Dad, speaking with an odd sort of calmness to his voice.

"And now?" she asks.

"No," he admits.

His mum then glances towards Mum. She stares at her for a long while before slowly curling her lips upwards into a half-smile. Her black icy eyes look at Dad, and she sighs.

"I understand your reasoning perfectly, Severus. Had the coward not continued to drug me all those years, I would have fought back more. You know this. I can tell by the way you sought revenge against him for us." Sighing very softly, she shakes her head. "No doubt you won't believe me, but Toby was a gentleman at one time. He'd open the door for me, smile at me, kiss me on the cheek, whisper how much he loved me, and all of that other nonsense that comes with love. I don't know how to explain it, Severus, and I am by no means blaming you, but he changed a few days after learning he had fathered a son. He started to leave regularly for the pubs and returned later as a mean drunk." She then closes her eyes. "A son will do anything to protect his mother, just as she will do anything to protect her son."

My stomach clenches painfully. Those are nearly the words, or at least the meaning, I've said earlier. I just want to protect Mum. Dad once was the same way. So why doesn't he understand? A hand on my arm makes me glance towards Angel. I nod slowly and lay down, wrapping my arms around her.

"Don't worry, Harry. Grandma is gonna help us find the sword," Angel whispers softly.

I don't respond. I just close my eyes and sigh. I hope for Mum's sake that Angel's right.