December was upon the inhabitants of Ashmere and much of their talk was about Christmas. As much as the children tried not to think of family and friends, it became harder to do so as each day passed.

Snape had grudgingly declared the last two weeks of December a holiday from classes and homework. Hermione was terribly disappointed until Snape quietly assigned her to do research and an essay on the flower growing in her garden.

Excursions to Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade were becoming few and far between. The boys didn't mind. Still sensitive to the cold after nearly freezing to death in the ancient burial chamber, neither Ron, Harry, nor Draco were all that enthused about spending much time in the cold.

A trip was planned to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping, but Lyrica had business with the school board governors that weekend, so it was up to Snape to take his brood out for holiday shopping.

The morning began bright and early as the children raced to get dressed and headed down to breakfast. For once they beat Snape to the breakfast table. He knew they were excited about going, and so he had purposely taken his time getting ready. By the time he was down at the table, they had nearly finished eating and had to wait agonizingly slow minutes as Snape drank his two cups of coffee and read the Daily Prophet.

Finally, the day began and they had arrived at Diagon Alley. Everywhere they looked the place was busy with holiday shoppers. There were decorations of holly, multi-coloured lights, and music everywhere.

Snape had charmed small glamours upon each of the children and himself. Hermione's curls were gone, replaced with honey blonde waves and a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles on her nose. Draco sported long black hair and blue eyes. Harry decided to try red hair and freckles and looked eerily like a member of the Weasley clan. In turn, Ron went with dark brown, messy hair and a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. As for Snape, his hair was still black, but he had changed his eye color to grey and straightened his nose and teeth.

"You ought to keep those changes, Snape," smirked Harry.

"I happen to prefer my nose and teeth, Potter," he sneered. "Maybe you ought to consider keeping that red hair. It's much better behaved than that mess you normally have."

Harry chuckled, "I just might!"

Surrounded by the children, Snape handed out galleons, knuts and sickles to each of them, and in seconds he was left standing alone as they each ran off in different directions. Rather surprised to be so quickly abandoned, Snape shrugged his shoulders and made his way to the apothecary.

So far, it appeared to be a pleasantly busy day, but an encounter with Albus Dumbledore in Diagon Alley would soon upset the illusion that was becoming a comfortable, new life for all of them.

Inside the apothecary, Snape was considering a particularly rare Orphan Weed that the proprietor had brought out to show him. In the few weeks he'd gotten to know this new customer that called himself Spinner, the proprietor knew the Potions Master was someone who appreciated only working with the finest ingredients to be had.

"From Iceland, Master Spinner. Picked only three days ago."

Snape examined the curious looking plant that had long, thin leaves edged with tiny, prickly thorns. The Orphan Weed was so named because as it spread out, it destroyed any other weed or plant it touched.

"How many do you have, Agar?" Snape inquired.

"Eleven."

"I'll take all eleven, then." The proprietor, Agar, smiled as he mentally calculated the cost. Snape then asked, "Were you able to find the Laurel Heart for me?"

Agar carefully bagged the Orphan Weed and put it on the counter. He replied, "I've been talking to a supplier in Africa, but the Laurel Heart he has is green. Very few suppliers grow that herb beyond the green stage."

Snape shrank the Orphan Weed bag and the other ingredients he'd purchased. "I really would like the red Laurel Heart, Agar. However, if you want to purchase a small bunch of the green, I could use that as well."

Agar smiled brightly. "Right then, Master Spinner. I'll get the green for you and see what can be done about my supplier cultivating the Laurel Heart to the red stage."

Snape was just turning to leave when he bumped into a young, recognizable face. "Master Snape! How are you doing?"

Snape grasped the idiot, Dumbletwit, by the elbow and practically dragged him out of the apothecary. Once on the sidewalk, he hissed into the young man's face, "If I'm not mistaken, your discretion was assured by your Headmistress, was it not?"

"Uhm... yes, ah, sorry about that, sir." Albus rubbed his sore elbow and leaned in toward Snape and whispered, "What do I call you, sir?"

"Spinner," he snapped. "What the devil are you doing here?"

"Shopping, sir, for Christmas." Albus was still whispering conspiratorially and it was beginning to irritate Snape.

Snape gave Dumbledore one of his patented 'scare-the-first-years-senseless' glares and the boy rose up to his full height, smiled, and twinkled his eyes merrily at Snape. Snape snapped sharply, "Then go... finish... your shopping!"

Albus just smiled and twinkled even brighter, "Certainly, sir, Master Spinner. Maybe we'll see each other later!" The young man ran off.

"I swear to Merlin, I'll blind that old goat and get rid of that damnable twinkle," Snape muttered to himself. "He must use a charm for them. A Dark charm, no doubt, as they are madly infuriating!" As Snape was getting some curious stares from passers-by, he realized he'd been muttering aloud. He harrumphed and went back into the apothecary and collected his purchases.

The weary shoppers arrived home at Ashmere just before dinner. Laden down with both shrunk packages and unshrunk packages, the four teenagers raced each other up the grand staircase and then disappeared into their rooms. Snape had Dorcas, the elf, take his packages to his room and he retired to the library to do some research.

Late that night, as the reluctant time travelers were all seemingly securely asleep in their beds, the world tilted on its axis reminding them once again that even in a time as benign as 1898, for them the shadows were never really gone.

Harry's Dream:

Harry wandered down the center of a tall, arched corridor of white marble. He wasn't sure where he was going, but the only direction he could go was forward. There were no doors to either the left or right of him.

"He's not real, Harry, but be careful."

Harry turned to see Snape standing behind him. "Who isn't real, Snape?"

Snape pointed down towards the end of the corridor. "The Dark Lord."

Harry could see two wizards playing chess. He was able to immediately identify that they were Dumbledore and Voldemort. Harry took a step backwards. He felt Snape's long fingers circle his wrist and Snape leaned down. "They cannot see me, Harry." Tugging Harry's arm, Harry was soon making his way down the marble corridor with Snape at his side.

"I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised by your tactics, Tom," sighed Dumbledore.

"Tactics now, is it, Albus? A few minutes ago you called it cheating," The Dark Lord grinned maliciously.

"Tactics, cheating... in the end, does it matter?" Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and then gave one to the dark wizard who crushed it between his fingers.

Voldemort studied the chessboard, moved a castle piece and put Dumbledore's king in check. "I suppose it doesn't matter at all, Albus. Especially since it appears I'll win in two moves."

Dumbledore was about to move his only remaining bishop when Harry stretched out his hand and stopped the old wizard by touching his shoulder. "Please be careful, Professor." Harry wasn't a great chess player, but he could see that if the Headmaster moved the bishop, he would irrevocably lose the game.

"Ah, Harry! It's a shame we won't be seeing you at Christmas. I'd hoped you would have found a solution by then." Dumbledore smiled and held out a lemon drop to the boy. Harry, who usually refused the sweet, took it and was about to pop it into his mouth when Snape's grip on his wrist tightened in warning.

"Put it into your pocket," whispered Snape.

Harry pocketed the sweet and turned his attention back to the Headmaster. "I'm sorry, Professor, but we haven't been able to find out anything. We also haven't figured out what you meant when you told us you were the key." Harry sidled closer to Dumbledore as he kept an eye upon the other wizard. Snape moved with him.

"Now who's cheating, Albus?" chided Voldemort. His red eyes raked over Harry and Harry felt his skin crawling.

"It's my right, Tom." Dumbledore gave Harry a long, studious look. "There is no life for you here, Harry and I expect you... all of you to try harder at finding a way home." The hard gaze, the lack of any twinkle in the blue eyes unnerved Harry. He saw anger and disappointment and he felt as though he'd done something very wrong.

The look vanished as the Headmaster addressed Voldemort jovially, "By the way, Tom, you never told me how you managed to bring the Blood Fae into Britain. They're a very dangerous magical species to transport."

Harry's shocked gaze turned back to Voldemort. "You brought the Blood Fae into the Forbidden Forest?"

Voldemort chuckled. "Did you know, I'd almost forgotten about those vicious, little faeries. They've been out there for years. Can you imagine my delight when they actually caught you, Harry Potter?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "You thought they'd kill him, didn't you, Tom?"

"They are quite blood thirsty, Albus. However, sending my greatest enemy back in time with no way to return... well, that has worked out very well. Pity, though, that I lost my Potions Master." The red eyes focused on Harry. "I do hope he's making your new life a living hell."

Harry was about to retort to the contrary when he caught a warning glance from both Snape and Dumbledore. "Actually, he is," snapped Harry. "If I can get into that potions lab, you can bet I'll make something that will deal with him." Harry did his best to put all his hatred into his statement.

The smile on Voldemort's snake-like visage turned Harry's stomach. "Harry Potter! Would that you had joined me we would have been a power unlike any other!" He laughed maniacally and stretched his white-skinned, claw-like hands toward Harry. Harry let out a cry of revulsion and stumbled backwards. Before he knew it, he was falling. Dumbledore was shouting to him, but he couldn't hear the words. He crashed to the hard ground far below, splitting his skull open. A faraway part of himself knew that the scream that tore from him should have been impossible with a broken skull.

Snape's Dream:

Snape was in the Headmaster's office and he was pacing. He was so angry, it was all he could do to keep himself from subjecting the old man to a Cruciatus. "You knew? Damn you, Albus! If you had exterminated those Vohlfayr we wouldn't be where we are now! What the hell was going through your mind?"

As he spun to glare at Dumbledore, he nearly lost his stride as he saw Harry crouched down beside the Headmaster. Harry shook his head and put his fingers to his lips. "He can't hear me or see me, Snape!" Harry hissed.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, content to allow the younger man to vent his anger. "You know how dangerous it is to mess about with Time, Severus, and as much as I wanted to do something to prevent all of this, I couldn't. What happened is necessary."

"How does this help in any way to defeat the Dark Lord if we remain trapped in 1898, Albus? Do you know how we get back? No, wait, don't answer that, yet. Do we get back?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Now that question I wish I did have an answer to, Severus, but I don't. I am, however, severely disappointed that you've come to the decision to stop the research. It's only been a little over four months."

"What sense is there in continuing, Albus? We haven't a clue as to a solution for returning to our own time."

"I don't believe that's the truth, Severus. I believe that you're attempting to indulge in the pursuit of your own desires."

Snape was insulted by the accusation and was about to deny it when he stopped dead at the hard, angry look on Dumbledore's face. It was a look he'd rarely seen and never had he seen it directed at him. It wounded him, deeply, and he ended his pacing, falling into the chair in defeat.

"I don't want to return to my old life, Albus." Harry's jaw dropped suddenly and his eyes widened. Snape gave Harry a barely imperceptible shake of his head. He then continued what he was saying, "Not only do I think I've found someone to love, but I've discovered that I care... deeply... about each of those children." Snape's onyx eyes bored into Harry's as he said very solemnly, "I know that's something you never thought to hear from me. To be honest, I never thought I'd say it."

The anger on Dumbledore's face was replaced by a gentle, pleased smile and he rose to his feet, walked around his desk and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I have always known you to have a heart, dear boy, and as much as I know you want the life that you have found in 1898, you must remain persistent in your search for a way back to us." Dumbledore let go of Snape and took out his wand. "Severus, do forgive me for this..."

To Snape's horror, the Headmaster withdrew his wand and pointed it at him. "Crucio." Severus fell to the floor as every nerve burned sharply. He began screaming.

Draco woke to the sound of Harry's screams. Adrenaline slicing through his veins, he shot from his bed, ran out of his room and was at Harry's bedside seconds before Ron was. A minute later Hermione was running in behind them. Just as Draco reached out for Harry, he ducked just in time to avoid getting hit by Harry's flailing fists.

"His forehead!" pointed Ron. The lightning scar was an angry red and was bleeding profusely.

"Hermione, get Snape!" shouted Draco.

"No!" shouted Harry as his eyes snapped open. "He's hurt, too!" Despite the blood flowing into his eye and impairing his vision, Harry jumped quickly out of his bed and began to run. Draco, Ron, and Hermione quickly followed him to the east wing of the second floor.

Snape luckily had not warded the door to his room with the highly secure wards that protected his private lab and quarters at Hogwarts. A simple Alohomora from Hermione and they were able to unlock the Potion Master's bedroom door. Snape had fallen from his bed and to the floor. His sheets were twisted around his ankles.

It was Ron, kneeling down beside the unconscious man, who saw the torn, left sleeve of Snape's black pyjama top. Ron gasped and recoiled at the sight of the angry looking Dark Mark. "Merlin's teeth!" Ron cursed. They all could see blood seeping from the center of the evil mark.

Harry wiped at the blood on his face. "Hermione, we need Pain Potion, maybe Blood Replenishing Potion, and... oh Merlin! He doesn't have any... wait, the Frostbite Potion! If there's any of that, bring it!"

Without a word, Hermione left the bedroom and ran to the room Snape had turned into a potions storage room on the second floor. It was more than just locked, but she was able to break through the wards and get the potions Harry requested.

Ron had untangled the sheet from Snape's leg, tore a wide swath of it, and crudely wrapped the man's bleeding arm. It disturbed him that it continued to bleed, turning the emerald green sheet black. Knowing there was nothing more he could do, he scooted over to Harry. Conjuring a cloth, he pressed it to Harry's forehead, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain from his friend.

"You okay, mate?" asked Ron as he observed Harry's eyes blinking several times.

"Yeah," said Harry as he took over holding the cloth. "Just kind of sick to my stomach." Seeing Draco standing about helplessly, he addressed him, "Draco, can you levitate Snape onto his bed?"

Draco nodded and did as he was asked. Just as he got Snape settled, Hermione returned with the potions.

"Which should I give him first, Harry?" she asked.

"Let me," said Draco as he picked up Snape's head and shoulders and slipped himself behind the taller man. "Uhm, Pain Potion first, I think." Hermione handed it to him and Draco carefully administered the potion. Snape coughed awake, sputtering some of the potion onto himself.

"What the...?" Snape tried to move and instantly regretted it. It was through sheer, raw willpower that he kept the contents of his stomach where they were.

"Uncle Severus, I just gave you some Pain Potion. I've also got some Frostbite Potion and Blood Replenishing Potion," informed Draco.

"Give me... half the Frostbite..." his skin turned a sallow green. "Anti-nausea, too." Hermione didn't wait to be told, she raced out of the bedroom and back to the storage room while Draco administered the Frostbite potion. Hermione returned very quickly with the Anti-nausea Potion and Draco administered that as well.

"Hermione?" asked Harry. "Could I have some of that, too? And the pain stuff?" He wrapped his arm around his belly doing his best to calm his stomach.

Draco handed over the two potions and she helped Harry to take them. He then propped Snape up with a few pillows. "Uncle Severus?" Draco whispered worriedly.

Snape clutched Draco's shoulder reassuringly. He was feeling marginally better, but he'd need to brew a Cruciatus Relief Potion to deal with all the side effects. He would take care of that task later. Now there was a more pressing matter to deal with; how the hell did he get Crucio'd in a dream. Suddenly noticing that Ron was tearing some of his sheet, he watched, puzzled, as Ron handed the strip to Draco and the Slytherin began to wrap it around the other bandage.

"My... it's...?" Draco replied to Snape's question with a quick nod. Wait... Harry was in my dream! Is he also bleeding? "Harry?"

Harry drew himself up to his feet and leaned against the bedpost. "I was there, Snape." Harry's voice was very weary. "I think I caught a little of that curse."

Snape could see that Harry was very pale. "Sit down before you fall down, Harry." Harry complied and slid down the bedpost until he was seated on the edge of the corner. "The lemon drop?"

Harry stuck his hand into the pyjama pocket of his pants and pulled out a slightly sticky, yellow sweet dusted with lint. For a moment he stared at it, and then he dropped it as though it were on fire. "Snape, what happened?"

Snape shook his head, indicating that they would discuss the dreams later. "Are you still bleeding?"

Harry drew the cloth away and Ron examined the lightning bolt scar. "It's stopped," Ron declared. "What about...?" Ron glanced worriedly at the hidden Dark Mark. Although he'd seen it quite a few times now, it still sent a shiver of fear down his spine.

Snape carefully peeled away the ragged bandage. He didn't care to view his Dark Mark at any time and his feelings towards it were markedly similar to Ron's. "It appears to have stopped." Snape removed the bandage, vanished the bloody cloths, and repaired his torn sleeve. Rising to his feet, he leaned over and examined Harry's scar. His fingertips were gentle, feather-light. For a brief moment he touched Harry's cheek and looked into the boy's eyes. Harry saw the man's concern, and also his relief. A warmth he'd never known before spread outward from his heart. He smiled inwardly, afraid that Snape, or any of his friends, might make fun of him.

"We need something hot and sweet," Snape declared rising to his full height. "Slippers, robes and meet me in the parlour."

Snape and the children congregated in the parlour several minutes later, dressed in their nightclothes and robes and all of them holding cups of hot chocolate. The only light came from the roaring fireplace and they were all gathered around Snape. He and Harry had related their dreams to Draco, Ron, and Hermione.

Hermione shivered, and leaned in against Draco. "So it was Voldemort that put the Blood Faeries in the Forbidden Forest?"

"It's entirely possible," said Snape quietly. "The Dark Lord has left many such 'delayed' traps. Even after his demise, he will continue to cause trouble, misery and even death."

"But why did Dumbledore Crucio you?" asked Ron.

"It was no more than a second or two," Snape murmured. "I think he might have done it to show me that these are more than just dreams." At least, he thought, I hope that's why he did it.

"Harry's bleeding scar did the job just fine for me!" snapped Draco.

"So did that lemon drop," muttered Hermione. Draco felt her tremble and he kissed her forehead.

"Snape," Harry began as his brow furrowed, "Do you think it's possible that Dumbledore is sending these dreams to us? I mean, if he's in 1994, and he knows about the Blood Fae, and that we went back in time... could he contact us this way?"

"I wouldn't have thought so before tonight, Harry, but Albus is a very powerful wizard and his skill in both Legilimans and Occlumens could point to other Mind Magic we may not be aware of." Snape gripped his cup of hot chocolate and forced himself to drink some of it. His hands were threatening to shake, from fear, not from any residual aftereffect of the Cruciatus Curse.

"What worries me, Uncle Severus," began Hermione softly, "is if Dumbledore can reach us through time and through our dreams, could Voldemort?"

"No, no I'm certain he can't, Hermione," assured Snape. "If he could, he would simply kill us all in our sleep. He can be a pompous and blustering figure, but his eventual goal is to kill Harry Potter." He glanced apologetically at Harry for being so blunt and Harry just shrugged. "The chance at being able to get to him, or to any of us that way would have been irresistible. He would have killed you three before your first year together. There is also the matter of the first dreams you four had. I believe you had those because all of us have a connection with Dumbledore."

Harry was staring into the dark dregs of his chocolate. "Dumbledore seemed really worried about me letting on to Voldemort that you were being kind to us, Snape, yet you told me he wasn't real."

Snape thought back to Harry's dream. "I'm positive that he wasn't the real Dark Lord, Harry. However, your scar does connect you to him. It's possible that had you told the Dark Lord I was treating it well, Dumbledore wasn't certain it would get back to him, through the Headmaster."

Harry frowned. It was all very confusing. The one person they really needed to ask, they couldn't, because he was just a kid in this time period.

"Whatever the hell's going on," growled Draco, "I don't like any of it. Dumbledore's scaring the crap..." he chanced a quick look at Snape to see if his godfather was going to correct him for his cursing. When he saw that Snape had no intention of stopping him, he continued, "...out of us and good wizard or not, it's mean."

Hermione nodded. "He cast an Unforgivable."

No one could reply to that. None of them really wanted to. The dreams that Snape and Harry had this evening had shown all of them a side of the grandfatherly Headmaster that worried, if not frightened, all of them. Snape, who was aware this side of the deceptively powerful wizard existed, hated to see their childish illusions about the 'saintly' Albus Dumbledore crumbling as the hours crept by. Dumbledore was a good man and Snape did trust him. However, sometimes the way the man plotted, schemed, and kept secrets close to himself, rubbed the Potions Master the wrong way.

Draco finished his chocolate and vanished the cup. He drew Hermione tightly into his embrace. Hermione spoke up, "He keeps saying he's the key."

"Who does?" asked Ron. His eyes then widened. "Oh! You meant Dumbledore!"

She nodded. "I just don't understand what he means by that, though. Key, how? His younger self or in some other way?"

"I don't think there is any key," remarked Snape. "The Headmaster has an ego that's nearly as big as the Dark Lord's. He often sees himself as central to the solution of a problem. However, he might figure in the way for us to return home, he is just another piece of the puzzle. Perhaps a larger piece, but a piece nonetheless." He finished his chocolate and Evanescoed the cup. "We won't figure all of this out tonight, so I suggest we all return to bed."

"Could we just stay here, Snape?" Harry asked in a quiet voice.

Snape regarded Harry and could see the shade of fear flit across the boy's face. "Would all of you like to sleep the rest of the night here?" There were nods, and yes's from each of them. Rising to his feet, he transfigured the parlour furniture into narrow beds.

"Five beds?" asked Draco.

Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow at the blonde and then to the little Gryffindor bookworm he still held close to himself, "Chaperon. Hermione, over there and Draco, beside me."

Hermione's cheeks coloured as she stepped away from Draco and quickly slipped into the bed on the end. Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. "You know I'm an honourable man, Sev!" he growled under his breath as he climbed into his bed.

Snape muttered, "You're a teenaged boy."

"Yeah, right!" snorted Ron. He ducked just as a pillow was thrown at his head. Instead, it hit Snape in the back.

"Oh crap!" yelped Draco and he ducked under the covers as Snape glared down upon him.

"Language, Draco," Snape's low voice warned.

A muffled apology came from under the covers from Draco. Harry sniggered and pulled his covers up over himself.

Snape was the last to get into his narrow bed, but he didn't fall asleep right away. As he listened to the teenagers getting comfortable and slowly falling back to sleep, he remained wide awake. He was worried, but moreover, he was afraid. Of Dumbledore. He knew the old wizard was powerful, but to be able to reach over to them in their dreams while they were stuck in the past spoke of a power even the Dark Lord did not have. He was also concerned about the disapproval and anger the man had shown him in his dream; not only had Snape seen it, but it had been a physical force that twisted his insides.

He would continue their research, but now he wondered, if they never found a way home would he ever be free of Dumbledore's watchful spirit? With that worry burrowing deep into his thoughts, Snape didn't fall asleep until the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon.

A week to Christmas, the dreams were voluntarily forgotten by the children as they looked forward to the holiday. As for Snape he had begun to spend every minute not in classes, meals, or the potions lab, researching in the library.

Lyrica, now at Ashmere for the holiday, spent her time either decorating the house with her four young assistants, or in her own private rooms. Snape had not told her about the dreams. One afternoon, finally curious as to where the absent professor was, Lyrica went looking for him and found him in the library. He was unaware of her presence and so she was caught when the library door slammed shut with a wave of his wand. She also felt the subtle ripple of a silencing spell.

Snape was angry and frustrated. He had just begun to take his anger out on the months of useless notes by throwing them everywhere. That action, hardly satisfying was replaced by him giving into his more primitive self and letting loose with an angered roar. A book nearby was his hapless victim as it went sailing across the room and crashed into a large vase of flowers. The vase shattered and the spell preserved flowers cascaded to the floor. In that moment, he caught a glimpse of Lyrica out of the corner of his eye and he spun angrily upon her.

"What are you doing in here?" He had his wand out in the blink of an eye and pointed directly at her heart.

Lyrica's wandless magic was pure instinct honed by the years she'd had to protect her mother and then herself from her father's anger. A simple, but very quick wave of her hand neatly disarmed Snape and threw him into the bookcase that was behind him. He crashed heavily and books tumbled down around him and a couple hit him in the head.

Aghast at what she'd done, she quickly prevented more books from falling and doing more damage and then ran over to him. "Severus! I'm so sorry!" Lyrica knelt down beside him and tried to help him to his feet.

"Do not apologise for defending yourself, Lyrica!" he admonished sharply. "You caught me by surprise. I could have hurt you." Leaning on her, Snape rose a bit shakily to his legs. He felt slightly woozy and Lyrica helped him over to a chair. "Merlin's arthritic knees, woman! What did you hit me with?"

Lyrica glanced over her shoulder at one of the larger tomes. "It appears you were struck with Dandelo Bint's Monologue on the Dark Arts."

Snape glowered at the cheeky smile Lyrica flashed at him. "Very funny, my dear." He rubbed the back of his head and wasn't all that surprised to see a little blood on his hand.

"Allow me," said the Headmistress as she tended to his wound. It was quickly cleaned and healed. "It was a simple blocking spell used defensively."

Snape glanced at her, puzzled.

"My magic," she explained as she waved open the door to the library and conjured a Headache Potion. She gave it to him and he drank from the small bottle. "A simple block used as a weapon. It only requires the intent of the caster: no wand, no incantation."

Snape regarded her. "Lyrica, would you teach us your magic?"

Lyrica was about to repair the vase when she stared at him. Her gaze was quizzical and suspicious. "Why?"

"Your magic is very powerful and it would be good for us to have something that the Dar..." he bit his tongue.

Lyrica's eyes narrowed. "Just say it, Severus. The Dark Lord. Or Voldemort. Both I have heard now, so you aren't protecting me. You still believe you'll return to your time to fight this creature?"

"Until I am certain there is no..."

"Oh stop placating me!" she shouted. "I am tired of hearing the 'ifs', Severus!" He was about to rise when she stepped forward, placed her hands against his chest and shoved him back into the chair. "No more! I don't want to hear little snippets that I have to worry about as I lie abed at night. You will tell me now what it is you face in your future and exactly what it is that has you working ceaselessly for a solution that has yet to present itself."

"Lyrica, you know that I cannot tell you. Any knowledge..."

"Stop it!" she snapped angrily. "I have your names, the name of this dark wizard. If I wish to change your timeline, I have more than enough to do so. You will tell me about that mark on your arm, Harry's scar, why Draco must continue to hurt Hermione... everything, Severus. I will not be kept ignorant any longer."

Snape was about to shout right back when a voice from the library doorway stopped him. "She's right, Uncle Severus." Hermione stood in the doorway with Ron, Harry and Draco around her. "Professor Arcahnum knows too much as it is."

"We agree with Hermione, Uncle Severus," echoed Draco.

"She's family, Snape," said Harry simply.

That simple phrase from Harry, shocked, yet pleased, both adults. Taking a deep breath, he waved the children into the library. They entered and Snape conjured a circle of comfortable chairs for everyone. Lyrica sat beside him. She slipped her hand into his.

"I will only tell you the part of my story they know. Precisely how I received the Dark Mark is to remain my business. I shall tell you of my redemption at Albus Dumbledore's hand and the prophecy that led to Harry's scar."

"The dreams," prompted Hermione. "Can we tell Pro... Lyrica about those, too?"

Snape nodded. For the next several hours, Lyrica learned about the rise of Voldemort and when Snape joined the Death Eaters and took the Dark Mark. She learned of the prophecy that had sent the dark wizard to Godric's Hollow to kill a child barely a year old. She was told of how little Harry had miraculously survived the Killing Curse and nearly destroyed the Dark Lord. Lyrica was told about the formation of the Order of the Phoenix by Albus Dumbledore to fight against Voldemort's return.

In a cold and emotionless voice, Snape related the events that led him to seek a deserved death at Dumbledore's hands (conveniently leaving out any mention of his personal feelings for Lily Evans). He had been grievously tortured for defying the Dark Lord and it was his intention to confess his sins to Dumbledore and then either to die, or to accept imprisonment in Azkaban. To his surprise, Dumbledore had forgiven him, nursed him back to health and convinced him to spy on the side of Light. So thankful for such forgiveness, he did not realise until later that he'd been tied to Dumbledore and his cause by an Unbreakable Vow. As Snape related this fact, which was known only to Draco, he emphasised how the Unbreakable Vow was as unforgiving as the Dark Mark.

At this point in the story, they adjourned for a silent dinner. Little was eaten; and so, they retired to the parlour and its comforting fire as the children each took up their own stories. Draco told Lyrica about his father's reason for keeping him alive; a gift for the Dark Lord when he came of age. Ron told her about his large, pureblood family and how they were all looked upon as blood traitors. Hermione related to Lyrica about her life with her Muggle, dentist parents and then discovering her place was in the Wizarding world. Unfortunately, she was also a target as she was a Muggle-born, or Mudblood witch.

It was then Harry's turn to relate his story to Lyrica. He skimmed over his years with the Dursleys and related more about his time at Hogwarts. With Ron and Hermione's help he told the story of the Philosopher's Stone, Fluffy, and his first encounter with Voldemort. Then came the events of his second year where he had met the memory of young Tom Riddle who had tried to regain his youthful body by killing Ginny Weasley. Then came his third year in which he didn't encounter Voldemort, but he dealt with Dementors, learned to cast a Patronus, and discovered that his godfather, Sirius Black, was innocent of the terrible murders he'd gone to Azkaban for.

An old grandfather clock in the parlour chimed the hour of midnight just as Harry was finished with his story. They had yet to tell Lyrica about their dreams.

"Not yet," she said quietly. She had separated herself from Snape's side awhile ago and had seated herself in her chair by the tall window.

"Lyrica, are you all right?" Snape asked gently.

"It is..." she began uneasily. "I... I will be, Severus. Tell me of your dreams, now."

"Maybe we should wait until tomorrow," said Snape. He was very concerned by the haunted, distant look upon Lyrica's face. He was also bothered by the fact that she refused to look at any of them. "This has been a lot for you to take..."

"It is, but finish it." As she turned to look at him, the anguish in her green eyes was a palpable force. At once, Snape regretted that they had said anything to her. He felt as though he had killed something inside of her; her innocence. "Please, tell me the dreams."

One by one they related their dreams to Lyrica and she listened, quietly, her back turned almost completely to them. She seemed oblivious; watching the snow fall silently out the window. After Harry and Snape related their two most recent dreams, she faced them again.

Snape concluded, "I know that Professor Dumbledore sent us the dreams, but I don't know how he did it."

For a moment, Lyrica stared at Snape. Then, without a word, she strode out of the parlour with some purpose in mind. She was gone for several minutes and just when it seemed she was not coming back, Snape began to usher the children off to bed. They were grumbling, mumbling amongst themselves when Lyrica returned. In her hand was a thick, old volume and she handed it to Snape.

"Albus petitioned me for access to the Restricted Section this year. I granted it as long as he let me know what he was reading. I was curious about this book, but saw no reason to not allow him to continue studying it as there did not appear to be anything Dark about it." Lyrica remained standing beside Snape.

Draco went over to Snape to see what the book was and he was quickly followed by a curious Hermione. Harry and Ron remained standing by the fireplace.

Snape read the title of the book out loud, "Dreams As A Pathway: Exploring The Delicate Nature of Magical Bonds & The Art of Dream Travel by Aristotle."

"The Unbreakable Vow, Severus," Lyrica said as she sat down beside him. "The one that Albus tricked you into. It would open a pathway to your dreams."

A shadow of anger settled upon Snape's features. A sense of violation worse than the Dark Lord's assault upon his thoughts through Legilimens welled up inside of him. Dumbledore had introduced Snape to the disciplines of Legilimens and Occlumens, but he had continued his learning on his own until he felt he was able to protect his thoughts, not only from the Dark Lord, but from Dumbledore as well. He had never thought he might have to block his dreams as he slept as well.

"But, we don't have a magical bond with Dumbledore," argued Harry, a sharp scowl upon his face.

"You do, Harry," asserted Snape. "The night you were left with your mother's sister's family, Hagrid, Minerva, Albus, and myself made an Unbreakable Vow to protect you. In turn, you have the bond of friendship with Hermione and Ron, and a new one with Draco. As I am Draco's godfather, he is bound to me. We are all linked and that blasted, old, meddling fool has been gallivanting along those bonds..."

"He will not be able to continue interfering in your dreams," Lyrica declared dispassionately. "Aristotle explains that in trespassing upon the dreams of another, it eventually weakens the bond and can destroy it."

"That's some comfort," Hermione whispered lamely.

"Indeed," snarled Snape. "Everyone to bed." Snape rose to his feet. "I'll be up in a few minutes with Dreamless Sleep potion for all of you." The teenagers quickly scattered and for a moment Snape's onyx black eyes locked with Lyrica's. Her gaze, usually so lively, was glassy, full of thought, and there was anger deep within them, too. The anger, he knew, was not directed at him, yet that gave him little comfort. A brief, assuring brush of her fingers against his, and Lyrica turned away and walked out of the library.