Tonight is the first night of Occlumency lessons. To say I'm nervous about this is a bit of an understatement. I'm terrified. I mean, if Dad doesn't want to teach it because of a chance of it hurting me, well, I really don't want to learn it then. A hand against my back makes me glance up.

"Thought I'd find you here," Mum says with a lopsided smile. "What are you thinking about?"

"Occlumency," I glumly reply.

"Ah. Well, have you finished your reading?"

"Yeah," I mumble. "Not particularly thrilled about Dad viewing all my memories about the Dursleys, though."

"I'm sure the same can be said for him, too, Harry." She then runs her fingers through my hair. "He loves you, Harry, so it'll hurt him unfortunately just as much as it will hurt you. However, he'll likely tell you that the Dursleys were monsters and deserved to be killed, etc to make you feel better."

"He already said this thing can be frustrating, though," I mutter, ignoring her comment about them being dead.

"And it is, but if he feels like he's losing control or if he thinks you need a break, he'll stop."

I nod slowly, glancing at the thick book in my hands. "Is it true what it says in here, though? Is it possible that he could kill me?"

"It's possible, yes," she answers quietly. "However, he prides himself nowadays on not killing."

"I know." I then sigh, shaking my head. "Mum, were you scared, knowing that he'd see all your memories during this?"

"Well, I asked him to teach it to me, so I knew he'd see everything. But in response to your previous question if he could kill you—"

"You already answered it, Mum," I interject, glancing at her.

"I know I did, but I want to show you something." Her fingers leave my hair as she walks towards her and Dad's bedroom. She returns a moment later with a silver basin in her hands. She places it on top of the island, motioning for me to come over there.

"What is that?"

"It's called a Pensieve. It'll allow you to view a memory of mine."

"Oh." I then watch her press her wand against her temple before extracting a thin silvery strand and placing it in the basin. "That's a memory?"

She softly smiles before sighing. "I want you to pay close attention to Severus in it, Harry."

I only nod. When she motions to me to put my head in the basin, I stare at her for a moment before doing so. Idly, I wonder how I'm not going to drown doing this action. Within seconds, I find myself thrown into—well, I guess it's a memory.

"Sinistra!" snarls a voice that I instantly recognize. "What is the point in my teaching you if you aren't even listening to me?"

"I am, though!"

It takes a moment before I see Dad's stringy teenage self. I can tell that he clearly isn't happy. I glance towards Mum then, smiling softly when I notice how frizzy her dark curls are. His glare definitely bothers her, which I notice by her constant running her fingers through her hair.

"What part of 'Clear your mind' do you not understand?"

"Well, maybe it'd help if you told me first HOW to clear my mind, Severus."

"If you don't know how you clear your mind, then how in the hell am I supposed to know how you clear your mind, Sinistra? Am I just supposed to know all your idiosyncrasies?"

"Well, you could be helpful, Severus."

"Oh, and I suppose my constant migraines that I suffer being near you means that I'm not helping? Dammit, Sinistra! Clear your mind! Think of—hell I don't know—bunnies or whatever you girls think about. Just don't let me enter your mind." His voice then lowers. "Because I swear to Merlin above if I see a damn star again, I'm going to slaughter you here and now."

"Fine, I'll think of bunnies. Do you want them to be cute little green bunnies, Severus?"

I snicker softly, imagining her saying that to him nowadays. Something, however, happens. I don't know how to describe it, but the memory or whatever fizzles as if I've lost the signal for a moment. However, I hear Mum's screams quite clearly.

My head whips around, wondering if it's actually Mum or her younger self that is screaming. The memory then returns and I know my answer. Mum's younger self is on the floor, grabbing her head as she screams. I glance towards Dad's younger self. He doesn't seem to notice her screams, though.

"Dad, stop!" I yell towards him, not thinking of anything else to do.

The screams then stop, but only because Mum's younger self falls face first against the stone floor. I feel myself tremble in response before I notice Dad. He's finally realized that something is wrong. I watch him for a moment, expecting him to do something. He just stares at her with a—well—horrified look maybe.

"Aurora?" he says hesitantly, slowly kneeling beside her. His dark eyes glance towards the closed door before he looks back at her. Slowly, he picks her up, resting her back against him.

I notice the blood streaming out of her nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. She's hurt bad. It doesn't take Pomfrey to know that. I watch Dad for a moment as he just holds her.

"I-I didn't . . ." He then shakes his head violently, picking her up into his arms. Without another word, he carries her out of the room and the memory ends.

Mum's hands steady me as I fall backwards towards the stone floor. I stare up at her, feeling myself tremble just slightly. I don't know why, though. I mean, she's fine. I can see that. She's not bleeding. She's perfectly fine.

"I don't understand," I rasp, staring at her.

"He lost his temper with me and forced himself inside my mind as retaliation. As I'm sure you noticed, though, he didn't mean to do that. He prides himself now with remaining in control. He knows from experience how badly a person can be injured if one loses just a shred of control."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better, Mum?" I squawk.

"He won't lose his temper, Harry. I promise you. He's not the same angry man he once was."

"But he can—"

"He won't! Harry, I didn't show that to you to scare you. I only meant for you to see that he knows what happens when he loses control."

"What good is that, Mum?" I reply, staring at her.

"I thought it'd make you understand that he does not allow himself to lose control like that anymore. He stays in control, retreating when he feels as if he can't."

"So, in other words, you were trying to show me what happens when it goes wrong so that I would feel better about my lesson with Dad?" I ask, wondering how she became a teacher.

"All right, so I'll admit that my comforting needs some work, but, Harry, he won't hurt you. Severus loves you. He would never harm you. It's half the reason he's so against this. He knows that he'll likely bring various—well, let's call them bad memories to the surface again."

"The Dursleys," I say glumly.

"Among other things," she replies with a heavy sigh.

"What do you mean? Compared to the Dursleys, the rest is just meaningless stuff."

"Well, there's a chance—a small chance mind you—that you could remember the night your parents died. You were young, yes, but a child even at that age tends to remember some things."

"I already hear her screaming my name whenever I'm near Dementors, though."

"So I've heard," she says, frowning. "However, delving in one's psyche tends to bring repressed memories to the forefront of a person's mind. You might see the entire event this time. I'm certain I don't need to remind you how it'd likely affect Severus."

"Do you think that'll happen?"

"Severus unfortunately has to be the one, though," she responds, equally as quiet.

"Mum? Do you think I'll see that night?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't know, Harry, and neither does Severus."

"If I do see that, Mum, at least Dad will be with me. We can, well, sort of lean on each other for support." I then narrow my eyes. "Okay, granted, Dad's not really a touchy type person, but you know what I mean." I notice her soft smile.

"You clearly haven't seen him with Angel, Harry."

"Yeah, but she sort of forces him into it, though. She does the same with Draco and me when we're with our friends. Speaking of which, where is she anyway, Mum? I haven't seen her today."

"She's been spending time with Miss Granger and Miss Lovegood."

"Why?"

"I haven't the slightest." Mum's eyes then glance towards the closed portrait before she shakes her head. "I should probably put this away before Severus catches me using his Pensieve. He's a bit territorial you know?" she teases with a lopsided grin.

"Dad being territorial?" laughing, I repeat. "Never, Mum," I say, smiling widely. At the sound of the portrait swinging open, I glance towards it. My stomach clenches when Dad walks in. It's time.

"Good luck, Harry," Mum quietly says, placing a hand on my shoulder. She glances at Dad for a moment before quietly excusing herself with the Pensieve.

"Join me, Harry." Dad's voice sounds, well, odd, as if he's holding his emotions in.

I walk over to him, keeping my head held high. I mean, sure, I'm scared out of my mind and definitely nervous as all hell, but none of that is going to help me learn this stuff. I watch Dad wandless and nonverbally move the furniture out of the way.

"So, how do you do this exactly? I mean, I read the book, but it wasn't really helpful."

"You clear your mind. Devoid it of all emotions so that I cannot use your emotions to weaken you," he explains. "This will likely take multiple tries, multiple days in fact. However, we should see some sort of progress by the end of our lesson tonight."

"And if we don't?" I ask quietly, knowing that we're likely going to be here all night.

"Then we will keep trying." Dad stares at me for a moment before waving his hand over the floor. Almost instantly, the stone floor changes into a fluffy blue carpet.

"What's that for?"

"Defending one's mind from another typically causes strain on one's body, so you'll likely find yourself on the floor numerous times tonight. I had thought it perhaps might be considerate of me to have carpet for you to land on instead of the stone floor."

"Maybe some bubble wrap would be good too, Dad," I say smartly.

"I doubt there's enough in the entire world for you, Harry," he responds emotionless.

"Hey, I'm not that bad!"

"Year one: you nearly were killed by a Mountain Troll, fell to your death in Quidditch, and battled a fully grown dark wizard in a chamber by yourself. Year two: Basilisk. Year three: Black and Death Eaters. Year four—"

"Nothing," I interrupt. "I didn't have any near death attempts last year, Dad."

"Which I shall assume is thanks to my having custody of you now."

"Can we just get started, Dad?" I watch him incline his head, drawing his wand for the first time. "Clear my mind. I know," I say quietly before he has a chance to tell me it. Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, just as the book has said to. I then open my eyes again and stare at him. When he points his wand at me, I instantly tense.

"We shall attempt an easy emotion for you, one you exhibit daily," he states.

I only nod. After all, what else can I do?

"Legilimens," Dad says, locking his gaze with my eyes.

Within seconds, I find myself thrown into a series of memories that are flashes. I see myself hugging Mum. Next, I'm laughing at some joke Draco has said. Angel is then cuddled up next to me. I'm with Hermione and Ron afterwards at the Three Broomsticks, drinking butterbeer. Finally, I'm embracing Dad fiercely, crying into his chest as he holds me. The flashes stop suddenly, and I find myself falling onto the floor. I can hear myself panting loudly as my heart races.

"Are you well?" Dad asks softly, staring at me.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," I reply, slowly picking myself up off the floor. "That didn't work."

"I'm aware." He has a pained look on his face now.

"Are you all right?" I ask.

"Do not bother yourself with me. I shall be fine." His finger traces his lips as he stares at me for a moment. "Love is your strength. You'd likely drive the Dark Lord insane if you sent him that."

"Is there a way to bottle it? I mean, we could try to drive him insane."

"I suppose you'd wish us to call them 'love grenades' too?"

"I'm just saying, Dad. If love sets the man off, hell, we could send tons of it to him. I mean, you have Angel, Mum, and me. We're probably the most love happy people on the planet. Well, I suppose you and Draco have some too." I then narrow my eyes. "Okay, so you probably have a lot too because of Mum, my mum, I mean, my real mum." I wince afterwards. I so sound like an idiot.

"Unfortunately, there is no way to bottle love."

"But you can bottle fame, though. You said so during our first Potions class." Dad stares at me for a moment before he shakes his head.

"Ah, yes, clearly metaphors are lost on your generation."

"I know what a metaphor is, but you're the one who said it."

"Yes, and I suppose you think I can brew glory too, correct?"

"I'm still trying to find that one for Ron," I respond quietly.

"Indeed?" Dad says, staring at me with a cocked eyebrow.

"Yeah, he needs some glory every now and then." I then sigh. "Dad, how do you ensnare the senses?" I smile softly towards him when he stares at me. Granted, I know that he knows that I'm stalling, but I'm desperately hoping that he takes the bait.

"Bewitch the mind: Veritaserum; ensnare the senses: Amortentia; bottle fame: Polyjuice; brew glory: Felix Felicis; and put a stopper in death: Elixir of Life," Dad recites as if in lecture mode again.

"Couldn't that Felix thingy be used for 'bottle fame' too?" I ask, remembering my essay I wrote for Professor Vector over the summer. "I mean, everything succeeds, not just glory and other stuff."

"It could," he agrees, nodding his head slowly. "However, Polyjuice would allow me to impersonate you, the current famous wizard of this century."

"Oh," I say, sighing.

"Nice try, though, Harry," he replies softly with his lips curling ever so slightly. "We shall try relief this time. It should not be as strong as before." His eyes lock with mine. "Prepare yourself." He raises his ebony wand, pointing it at me. "Legilimens," he casts.

I catch a flicker of me listening to Hogwarts after I receive my Hogwarts letter, informing me that I'm a wizard, not a freak. Then I see myself in the Slytherin common room, but it's gone a second later. The ethereal image of my Patronus saving Sirius and me then flashes before another images takes over. My gut clenches immediately as I see my bloodied body on the floor with someone kneeling beside me to help me sit up slowly. Thinking the image will flash away again, I quickly walk towards them, only to gasp when the hood falls. The image suddenly vanishes and I find myself heading back towards the floor. Dad grabs my upper arms, though, to prevent this.

"It . . . it was Mum," I say shakily. I glance up at him with a slightly horrified look. Of course I've known that she was there. We've already established that fact awhile back, but she was there in the room with me. She was the one who found me, told me that everything would be all right. It was Mum.

Slowly, I feel Dad hold me stiffly in his arms. I know he's trying to help me calm down, but I can't. So, burying my face into his robes, I sob into his chest. She was there. She saw more of it than I had thought. She saw the marks Vernon left on me, the scars, the blood, the tears, everything. She saw the entire bloody messy.

"I . . . I . . ." I start to say, sounding an awful lot like Quirrell.

"Hush, Harry," Dad replies softly, gently rubbing circles into my back. "Save your words."

"She saw," I whisper back.

"Yes," he simply responds. A few moments later, he speaks again. "The Dursleys' treatment of you was deplorable, and what occurred with the Death Eaters that night was even more tragic."

"She was there, Dad," I repeat quietly. "She saw it."

"And had the Dursleys not already been dead, she would have slaughtered them herself." His calloused hands then grip my face as he slowly pushes my head upwards. "Harry, she does not embrace you so fiercely because of that night she found you. She embraces you because she considers you to be her own. She loves you as any mother would."

"But she saw it."

"And yet, unlike the Dursleys who never once appreciated you as the cherished boy they should have, she does not shy away from you, nor would she ever. That night's events or even the years of mistreatment by the Dursleys did not damage you in her eyes, or anyone else's for that matter. So cease in this ridiculous thought that you are damaged because of what the Dursleys did to you."

"But she—"

"She has seen lots of things, Harry," Dad replies, interrupting me. "She has seen how my father used to treat my mother and me. She has seen the atrocities I committed as a former member of the Inner Circle. Not once has she looked at me horrified when it would be in her right to do so." Dad sighs. "Harry, seeing the results of that night, she only knew half the story. While I will agree with you that she likely assumed some of your injuries were a result of the Dursleys, she couldn't have known the extent of just what injuries were from the Dursleys and which were from the Death Eaters."

"She knew that they . . ." My voice trails off.

"There is no reason to feel ashamed for the crimes of another, Harry. You were not at fault." Dad frowns, slowly inhaling. "My father used to take his belt to me, much like Vernon. Both Muggles believed the fallacy that one could beat the magic out of a wizard. We both know that to be incorrect, though, don't we?" When I don't respond, he sighs softly. "Harry, she has never once treated you differently because of that night, because of what we now know about the Dursleys."

"She knows, Dad," I repeat, not understanding why I keep doing so.

"And Lily knew about my father. Aurora in fact knows about him now. Albus, Minerva, Poppy, even my old Head of House learned at some point in time that my father abused me. They do no treat me any differently, Harry, just as they do not treat you or Draco any differently." He then presses his hands on either side of my face again. "We are survivors, Harry, so there is no reason to pity us."

"Forgive me, Severus," Declan says quietly, bowing his head as he steps out of the shadows.

"Yes, what is it?" replies Dad, glancing at the vampire with a look of annoyance.

"I wish for a moment of your time, Severus."

"As you can see, Declan, I'm rather busy with—"

"I am aware," he replies quietly, inclining his head with a somber look. "However, it concerns Mezra. I had thought that it would be of the most importance, considering."

Dad glances at me before bowing his head to Declan. "We should perhaps rest for a few moments before attempting it again," he says softly. His hand waves towards the floor, returning the carpet to stone. The furniture then moves back into its usual spots.

"Declan!" Esmée says a moment later as she suddenly appears beside the fireplace. "Oh, oh, I was not aware that you two—forgive me." She hangs her head respectfully.

"I apologize immensely for her intrusion, Severus." Declan's brown eyes then glance at her. "Why are you here? You're supposed to be—"

"Yes, Declan, I know exactly which hellhole you sent me to," she growls, glaring at him. "However, I thought you might want the latest update on our local badarses."

"Who are you?" Dad asks quietly, staring at her.

"Oh, where are my manners," Esmée responds with a soft laugh. She holds her hand out to him with her palm down. "I am the great Lady Esmée. I'm also Declan's intended."

"I see." When her hand rests on Dad's chest, he instantly stiffens.

"You smell heavenly, Severus."

"You'll have to forgive me if I do not find that as a compliment," Dad responds, taking a step back from her. His hands brush down his robes.

"Leave him alone, Esmée."

"But he smells so good. Don't you dare deny that you haven't noticed it either, Declan. The man practically serenades us with his blood," Esmée responds, licking her lips as she stares at Dad.

"He is not ours, Esmée."

"Oh, of that I know. Had he been mine—"

"Finish that sentence, and you'll find yourself as ash," whispers Dad, glaring at her.

"Oh, hear that contempt in his voice, Declan. Oh, it is practically org—"

"Esmée!" snaps Declan, "enough!"

I notice Esmée instantly bowing her head, stepping away from Dad. I don't see any sort of remorse in her eyes for her actions, just obedience. Frowning, I glance towards Dad. Granted, I've only met her once, but I've never seen her act like that. It is almost as if she is, well, getting drunk off being near Dad. That can't be possible, though. Can it?

"Mistress Aurora shall be—"

"I'm here, Declan," Mum responds, walking into the sitting area with Angel in her arms. Her warm brown eyes momentarily rest on Dad before she glances away. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything is well again, my Lady."

"If you say because I'm here, Declan, I'm going to slap you again," Mum says, gently setting Angel on the sofa before she joins Dad. "Draco shall be joining us momentarily."

I hear our door creak open to our room and watch the Slytherin slowly walk out. We've been keeping our distance with one another lately. I'm not really sure why. I flash a soft smile at him, which he responds with a nod before sitting on the other side of Angel.

"I have asked your mother to join us also, Severus," Declan explains.

"Why? She won't be able to tell us anything about this."

"Perhaps not, but until quite recently she was held by Riddle. She might know something that we do not, Severus." Declan frowns. "I am unsure if she will appear, however. She never answered my request. Though, I doubt she would, considering what she has gone through."

"You know, Mistress Aurora, he is of good breeding," Esmée states, staring at Dad.

"Will you cease in your foolishness, woman?" Declan snaps. "Honestly, woman, he does not appreciate your advances. Quite frankly, you are likely making him wish to kill you, which I assure you he would be in his right."

"Fine, I'll leave him alone." Her head then whips towards the portrait before a wolfish grin takes over. "His mother has arrived. This should be interesting to say the least."

I glance towards the portrait, watching it open. Neither Draco nor Mum stands when Dad's mum walks in. I, however, rise, only to be pushed back down.

"Lady Eileen," Declan quietly says, inclining his head towards her.

"Lady, Declan, she's more like a bitch," Esmée responds a moment later with a laugh.

"Forgive her," Declan growls, glaring at the female vampire. "She is moody today."

"Considering whom you both serve, that appears to be a trait she's picked up over the years," Eileen drawls with a mild sneer on her face.

"Oh, insulting Lady Syra, as if you haven't done that a thousand times in your lifetime, witch."

"Esmée, if you do not shut your mouth now, I will do it permanently for you. We are not here to continue that feud. We are here to protect Mistress Aurora."

"Perhaps that is why you're here," she responds softly, crossing her arms.

"Her words do not bother me, vampire. She may say the sky is black, and I would not correct her. She is meaningless, just as your Lady Syra is."

"Vitriol is your—"

I glance towards Esmée when she suddenly goes silent. I can see surprise in her eyes before she glances at Declan. She then rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

"Now that our pleasantries are out of the way, perhaps it would be best if I began." He doesn't even pause before continuing on. "Mezra is gaining strength from the poor souls that she has been commanding. As we are well aware already, she has joined forces with Riddle. They have attacked randomly for the past few months, freeing prisoners from Azkaban and slaughtering hundreds of magical and non-magical people."

"And we need to do something, yes, we are aware."

"The Sword of Slytherin is that way. It was told that it was a weapon created and held by an Elder. According to my brothers and sisters, it is the only thing that can kill them. Mezra has wished for years to reclaim this weapon, since it was last known to be in her possession. She believes that a lower discovered it and will stop at nothing to find it." Declan draws in a breath. "The reason I bring this to your attention is that with it, she can kill Lady Syrene, Mistress Aurora, everyone." He frowns. "She will likely betray Riddle in the end to achieve this, if she has not already done so."

"In other words, she's very dangerous," Mum says with a sigh. "We know that."

"It was rumored that Syrene had stolen the sword and later altered its state before giving it to Salazar to make it easier for Mezra not to find it."

"And he then gave it to the merpeople to make the rings for him and her," I add.

"Perhaps," Declan replies.

My eyes then narrow as I recall one of my dreams. "Wait. I remember seeing something. I think Gryffindor told him to get rid of it after telling how he killed something that moved fast." I glance towards Declan. "Can it kill members of the Shroud?"

"It might. It was always rumored to exist, but we never had the necessary proof." He sighs. "Mezra and Syrene were likely already kicked out of the Council at this point. So, they wouldn't have known who the unlucky person was that Salazar killed either that be Shroud or Elder."

"Elders?" quietly I repeat.

"The Elders likely wished to reclaim it, not wishing it to be the hands of a lower."

"Why?"

"Muggles are your lower counterpart. Would you give them a wand, knowing how easy it would be for them to take a life as a result of that?"

"I thought if that happened, nothing would happen, though."

"Because Muggles don't have magic, you mean?" he replies. "You're correct, but there is always the possibility that the person wielding the wand is a late bloomer or has internalized his or her magic."

I glance towards Dad. I mean, sure, I've heard from Neville how his family was convinced he'd be a Squib until he actually displayed some accidental magic, but a late blooming Muggle turned magical person is a bit absurd. Shaking my head, I frown.

"Unless you wish to waste more of my time and further irritate me, vampire, I would get to the point rather soon if I were you," Dad's mum growls.

Looking at her, I bite my lower lip. I can't stop thinking about how I have dreamt about her searching for the sword. I mean, sure, Dad claims that it was a false trail left by Mezra to gain further access into my mind. However, I keep thinking about the 'what if.' What if it wasn't a false trail?

"Why must you continue to stare at me like that, child?" Dad's mum snaps, glaring at me.

"Did you search for the sword?" I watch her eyes narrow into slits, instantly feeling as if I should cast a shield to prevent the would be hex she is going to aim at me. "I'm asking because I think I saw you searching for a sword. Only, well, there was a man with you."

"Was there now?" she hisses, still glaring daggers at me.

"He kept calling you, um, I think, um, princess?" I instantly shrink into the sofa when she draws her wand, clenching her teeth. I can definitely see where Dad gets his temper from.

"Do not ever call me that name again, or you will never talk again. Is that understood?"

"Lower your wand, Mother," Dad quietly says, staring at her. "He is merely asking a question."

"Of things that do not concern him," she snarls back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Save your apologies, young one," Esmée says with a smirk, walking towards me.

"Don't," Declan warns a moment later, glancing at her. "Or I'll silence you again."

"The witch is the one who needs to apologize . . . for lying."

"Is that so, vampire? And just what do you believe I am lying about?" Dad's mum's voice is low and deadly, as if she's about to strike at any moment. Her eyes also are black as coal.

"You were searching for something that night, but I doubt it was the sword. Young Harry, however, appears to have unintentionally struck a nerve with you. Considering your temperament, though, it is not hard to do it would seem."

"Fine, yes, I was searching for something with a man long ago."

"And . . .?"

"And I did not find it," she answers, grinding her teeth. "Before you ask the ridiculous question of why not, the man I was with betrayed me. I found myself in a locked cell in Riddle's complex, where I remained for years."

"What were you looking for, witch?"

"None of your damn business," she snarls, glaring at Esmée.

"You were searching for evidence of the Elders, interesting," Declan replies, a moment later. His eyes then narrow on her. "You've had dealings with one, haven't you?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "In fact, I believe you can understand the Elder language."

"How wonderful for you," she responds snidely

Dad stares at his mum for a moment before frowning. Then again, I can see him clenching his jaw. He then relaxes, crossing his arms.

"Lovely, well, as amazing as your crackpot theories sound, there are numerous flaws in them. Now, perhaps we can adjourn since nothing is being accomplished here anyway."

"Wait, no," I blurt. "Can't we try the lake first? I mean, Declan said that we need to find the sword. Can't we like, I don't know, swim down there and ask the merpeople if they have it?"

Dad's mum instantly laughs derisively.

"I know. I'm clearly stupid for thinking it," I grumble, trying to keep my temper back. "But isn't it worth the try?"

"You wish to speak to the merpeople?" Dad's mum drawls with a nasty smirk. "And you'd say what, child? Forgive me, but I believe you switched a legendary weapon with a pair of pathetic rings?" She laughs harshly, clearly amused by me. "Tell me how that goes for you, child."

"Do you have any better ideas, witch?" Esmée asks, slowly inhaling. "Or do you perhaps enjoy tearing young ones down? If so, then perhaps the Order should have left you to rot. Clearly your own flesh and blood wishes ill of you."

"What Severus thinks of me does not matter."

"I wonder if it ever did."

"Instead of you two fighting, how about we talk to the merpeople as Harry suggested, all right?"

"Why? What makes you think they have it anyway?" Dad's mum asks, staring at me.

"Mum said—"

"Harry, love, it's just a story," Mum interrupts.

"Your rings glowed, Mum," I argue. "Unless you know of some other reason for that, I'm going to believe that you are wearing Slytherin's rings." I watch her stare at me before she shakes her head. "The rings are what you said Slytherin wanted, and the merpeople wanted the sword. So it really isn't that big of a stretch to think then that you're wearing Slytherin's rings."

"Not to interrupt or anything, but I could tell you if they are or not. We vampires are quite the experts in jewelry. Little known fact," Esmée says with a soft laugh.

"You're an idiot," Declan mumbles.

"And yet, you're still engaged to me." Esmée slowly moves from Dad's mum over to Dad. "If I might have your hand, dear Severus," she says softly. "I promise to be extra careful with you. Though, you will need to close your eyes. I can't have you learning all my secrets, now can I?"

"I'd rather not," Dad replies with a forced thin smile.

"As you wish," she responds, shrugging. She gently grasps Dad's hand, grinning widely before she brings her mouth around his finger.

My mouth instantly drops. What the hell? Is she . . .? No, I have to be seeing things. I mean, she can't be . . . oh my. I glance towards Mum and then back at Dad. He looks as if he's about to be sick, which truthfully I don't think I'd blame him for. However, my eyes narrow a second later as I notice the faint reddish glow on the ring.

"What is that?" I ask, leaning forward to get a better look at it.

"The ring senses that I'm a vampire, young one, so it glows red." She then releases Dad's hand, turning towards me with bright mischievous eyes. "If your lovely pet wolf, Lu—Lupin, did the same, the glow would be yellowish like the moon. The merpeople are famous for including such protections."

I nod slowly, noticing Dad drying his hand against his robes in disgust. I then look towards Mum, seeing her soft smile. She looks as if she's either about to laugh or murder Esmée, likely murder.

"Your services are no longer required, Eileen. You may return to that hellhole you call home."

"I would tread very carefully, vampire," she growls in response.

"As I would inform you to do the same," Esmée responds, clearly not intimidated by her.

Dad's mum then looks at Dad for a moment before briskly walking out of our rooms. Not to be overly dramatic or anything, but I swear that the room's temperature has just risen ten degrees with her departure. I mean, she is just plain, well, scary to me, more than Mum's mum.

"Must you antagonize the woman?" Declan asks, glancing at Esmée.

"Must I, no, but it does have a certain appeal to it. It is not as if the woman does not ask for it, though, Declan. She shrouds herself in darkness, snarling and snapping at the world for her gross mistreatment. She needs someone to keep her on her toes, I'd imagine. And since Lady Syra is not here, I'm the next best thing."

"And soon you'll be the next pile of ash," he remarks.

"What did you mean when you stated that my mother understood Elder?" Dad asks quietly, pointedly ignoring the vampires bickering about his mother.

"She claimed to have been searching for something prior to her capture," Declan explains. "There are only a select number of things for a person to search for these days. Evidence of the Elders' existence has been something the magical world has searched for years to find. It was pure, well, guesswork, Severus."

"Um, so, knowing that they're likely Slytherin's rings now, can we please talk to the merpeople?" I ask, glancing at Mum and Dad.

"No."

"But, Dad—" I cry.

"You and Draco will not be accompanying us," he responds firmly, holding my gaze.

I nod once. I guess I can understand that. I mean, Draco and I have already done one dangerous stunt trying to find the sword. Adding another attempt on that one is, well, a recipe for disaster. I then sigh. At least they're going, though, which is more than I previously thought would happen.

"But you and Mum are going, and, well, probably Declan, too, right?"

"With all due respect, Severus," Declan interrupts, sounding like a soldier who is addressing his superior officer, "I do not believe Mistress Aurora should join us on this excursion." He wears a look of complete seriousness as he speaks.

"I'm right here, you know."

"I'm aware, my Lady," Declan replies softly, not glancing at her. "There is no telling what might go wrong, Severus. I for one would rather we not have, forgive me, to worry about any issues that might occur. Our minds need to be focused on this task."

"I agree," Dad responds.

I wince instantly. That's definitely not something to say with Mum there. She, however, glances upwards, pressing her lips tightly together. She clearly wants to hex one if not both of them. When Dad turns on his heel to walk out, my grimace deepens, expecting fireworks to ignite at any moment. There's nothing, though. Dad and Declan walk out side by side without a word from Mum. The portrait softly closes behind them. Well, that wasn't very exciting.

"Men always worry about us being the ones who might be harmed. Even though, we are what keep them alive." Mum then huffs, shaking her head. She appears to be speaking now at least. Though, she's clearly not happy with Dad and Declan going off alone.

"They likely wished to see their mermaids without us, Mistress Aurora," Esmée drawls with a look of amusement. "Males are pigs after all. A millennium with them has taught me that. And it is no different if they are vampire, wizard, werewolf, goblin, house elf, or centaur. They're all the same." She smirks. "Behind every male is the wish to play our knight in shining armor, rescuing us fair damsels from our distress whatever that may be. Also lurking there in him is the wish to know us intimately, claiming that he has loved us from afar and needs to share our air for his own survival. And when another male gets too close to us, he decides to duel or fight the other in order to prove to us females that he is the strongest male of his breed. " She then smiles softly, showing off her pearly white fangs again. "However, when they get a hangnail, we're the first ones they come running to, aren't we, Mistress Aurora?" Esmée says with a laugh.

Draco and I glance at one another, ignoring our little sister's giggles between us. Aren't we men?

"Not yet, young ones, but soon," replies Esmée, smiling pleasantly at us.