The third floor of Ashmere belonged to Lyrica. When she was growing up the third floor held her parents large room, a separate, smaller bedroom for her mother that was connected to Lyrica's nursery and a study her mother used. After her mother's death, her father had moved into the east wing, second floor of the house and Lyrica to the west wing. The third floor had then been sealed. Once her father had been killed, Lyrica unsealed the third floor, tore down all the walls and turned the now large room into her own apartment. This was her sanctuary; her place to retreat and to think.

The Headmistress of Hogwarts departed from Snape's side, allowing him to give the children their Dreamless Sleep Potion while she locked herself away in her apartment. She needed to think. Closing the door and re-setting the wards, she waved her hand and the long, large room was lit up.

Lyrica's apartment was almost a mirror image of her quarters at Hogwarts. A sumptuous, Turkish Seraglio, it was a rich swath of tall, gold-latticed windows draped in crimson and gold silk; silk that fell into extravagant pools at the base of the windows. The highly polished wood floor was mostly covered by thick Persian carpets of warm golds, yellows, browns, oranges, and reds. The furniture was white pine with heavy silk embroidered upholstery. Scattered throughout the apartment, on the window seats and the floors, were a variety of small and large embroidered pillows in nearly every colour of the rainbow. Candles burned in hanging lamps that were cut and highly polished, precious amber, garnet, and clear quartz. The bed was a canopied affair that continued the silken opulence of the room, but where the room was warm, the bed was cool in the colours of jewel-toned blue, green, and turquoise. The bed frame itself, the headboard, footboard, and posts were one solid, intricately carved piece of natural, grey-green soapstone. The carvings in the headboard and footboard were of sinuous dragons whereas the posts were twisting snakes.

Dominating the room was the coiled form of a basilisk. It had been carved from onyx and its eyes were two, brilliant ice blue diamonds. Its open mouth displayed sharp fangs of nearly flawless ivory. Lyrica sat upon the coils of the basilisk and picked up one of the many scattered pillows to lean against. Alone with her thoughts, her hands began to tremble. She grasped a small pillow and dug her fingers into its softness to quell the shaking.

From the depths of the basilisk statue's coils slithered a long, silver and black serpent. Lyrica was not at all concerned when the creature wrapped itself around her waist and laid its head upon the pillow she was clutching. She stroked the serpent's head.

No time period is safe, so leave it be, her mind tried to convince her, but Lyrica would not listen. It had been a very long time since the wizarding world had seen an evil the likes of Voldemort. It horrified her to learn that not just those four children, but all the children at Hogwarts were being trained in the killing arts. War wasn't a pretty thing, and its preparation was always harsh.

They are just children, for Merlin's sake! Lyrica was also angry- angry at Severus for being so stubborn about finding a way back to that madness and angered at Albus Dumbledore's trickery. There was an underlying sense of fear, too. For a wizard to travel in dreams along the lines of a magical bond spoke of a wizard of great power.

"He will take them from me, Kalima," she whispered to the snake. Its tongue darted out, touching the skin of her palm.

Being the quiescent, dutiful daughter of Ebenezer Arcahnum had served her well as she grew up. However, there were five people residing in her home she had now accepted as her family. Whatever needed to be done to keep them safe, Lyrica would do. The only problem was determining what price she was willing to pay for their safety.

Meanwhile, In Hermione's Room:

Hermione was aware of the doors to Harry, Ron, and Draco's room quietly being closed one by one as Snape visited each boy with a small phial of Dreamless Sleep Potion. For some inexplicable reason, she had spread out her notes, worn, wrinkled, some slightly torn, all over the surface of her bed. She was thumbing through them again, not one bit sleepy, when Snape's polite knock rapped lightly upon her door.

Absently she answered, "Come in."

Snape opened the door and was surprised to see Hermione on top of her bed, instead of in it, with all her notes surrounding her. "You're supposed to be preparing for bed, Hermione," he admonished gently.

"I know, but I'm not sleepy," a sigh of frustration escaped the girl. "Are you sleepy, Uncle?"

Snape shook his head at her earnest expression. "Tell me what's on your mind." Carefully he picked up a section of the notes and seated himself on the edge of the bed.

"The answer is here. I know it. I just wish that I could see it." Her fingers danced purposefully over various pages. "Did you know I'm very good with puzzles?" She glanced up as Snape shook his head. "I love mysteries, too. I have all of Agatha Christie's books and I always figured out who the murderer was before Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple ever figured it out."

"Ah. So, in the mystery of the Philosopher's Stone, were you the one who discovered what the Philosopher's Stone was?" he asked with a slightly raised eyebrow and thin smile.

Hermione blushed. "I just put the pieces together. The only thing that didn't make sense was why Professor Dumbledore took the stone out of Gringott's in the first place and then reported it had been stolen."

"To draw out the Dark Lord," explained Snape. Hermione frowned. "Dumbledore knew something was wrong with Quirrel. The man had sympathy before for the Dark Lord's beliefs, but he was, essentially, a coward. He never had enough nerve to take the Dark Mark. The summer before Harry began his first year, Quirrel left for Egypt. If you knew the man, you'd know that Wizarding Egypt was not a place he was overly fond of. He returned near the end of summer, seemingly none the worse for wear with the exception of that stutter. My own instincts told me to watch Quirrel. Unfortunately, Albus nearly told me too late precisely what his suspicions were in regards to Quirrel."

"Too late to rescue Harry?" she asked.

Snape shook his head. He wondered if he should tell Hermione how Dumbledore's penchant for holding secrets nearly had him revealing to Quirrel, who had the Dark Lord as part of himself, that he had never been loyal to the Dark Lord- a mistake that would have cost Snape his life and the Order of the Phoenix their valuable spy. He chose to keep that to himself.

"Harry managed to save himself, but it was by sheer luck that he did."

Hermione's eyes fell to her notes as thoughts ran through her head. Then, something she'd seen hundreds of times caught her eye. She dropped her hand on a parchment somewhat more recent than the others. "Uncle Severus, are Portgates used in our time?"

Hermione's change in topic from Quirrel and back to her notes showed Snape that the girl's young mind was spinning relentlessly like a Cornish Pixie caught in a cage. Wondering what she was thinking about, he answered her question. "They are not. The Department of Portals Regulation suspended the creation and use of portgates about seventy years ago."

"Do you know why?"

Frowning, he tried to sift through his memory of history for the answer. "Something to do with an unstable nature and I believe the enchantment of a Portgate is rather more complicated than that for setting up a Floo point, or a Portkey."

Hermione snatched up the note she'd been staring at and handed it to Snape. Taking the page, he began to read the section the young witch pointed to. Hermione had taken down notes about the curious nature of Portgates and how, when enchanted, the portal streams of two Portgates were attracted to each other until they met in the middle. This created a usable gate between long distances. The problem was that the portal stream was very difficult to stabilise and after several uses, it collapsed. Portgates also required that the anchors, or the objects being enchanted, be of metal or glass and of a size accommodating to an adult. They were unwieldy, impractical and dangerous. In her notes, Hermione had underlined in red ink, 'splinching, no; deaths by grievous and traumatic loss of limb, yes.'

"Fascinating, but I am not seeing in this what you are, Hermione." Snape handed her the page and she began to go through her notes furiously. He caught a few pages that started to fall off the edge of the bed.

"Yes!" she crowed softly as she snatched at another piece of parchment. "I read in Bartlemeo's book, Portal Enchantments, a footnote that referred to another book by Nicolas Flamel called Experiments With Time. Bartlemeo referred to Flamel's time experiments using Portkeys and Portgates."

Snape's slim finger tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Many of Flamel's books are forbidden, kept in the Department of Mysteries. I wasn't aware that he'd experimented with Time, but considering his great age and the many discoveries he made..." Snape blinked. "The Department of Mysteries doesn't formally form within the Ministry until after the rise of Grindewald. That book might be accessible here."

"Lyrica's library has a lot of restricted books," reminded Hermione. "We can't touch them, since she charmed them with an age ward."

Snape smiled. "I shall start looking for that book right away. If I don't find it, I know of a certain bookshop on Knockturn Alley that most likely can find it for me." Snape rose to his feet and began gathering up Hermione's notes. She started to slide off her bed and put on her dressing gown. "And just where do you think you're going at this hour, young lady?"

Hermione froze in place, and smiled sheepishly. "I was... well, I was going to help you, Uncle?"

Snape shook his head firmly. "It's far too late and you need your sleep. Now, get back into bed, young lady." He placed her notes he had gathered, neatly stacked, upon the bedside table. He then took the small dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion from his pocket. "Drink this."

Hermione reluctantly climbed back into bed under her covers. She took the phial and stared at it. "But I don't mind dreaming."

Snape's arms crossed over his chest and he gave the child his best 'do it or else' glare. Hermione quickly uncorked the phial and swallowed the contents. She then replaced the cork and handed the empty container to Snape. "If you'd like, you may help me after Christmas."

"All right. Goodnight, Uncle Severus." Hermione pulled her blankets up to her chin and closed her eyes just as the potion began to nudge her body towards sleep.

Leaning over, he picked up one errant page, placed it with the others, and smoothed the blanket at her side. "Goodnight, Hermione," he said softly. As he left the room, he extinguished the lights and then quietly shut the door.

Snape walked slowly back to his room and paused at the single door that led to the staircase up to Lyrica's apartment. He was very tempted to knock upon her door and see how she was, but he had never been invited beyond this solitary door's threshold and he was reluctant to trespass now. Turning away, he continued to his bedroom.

Sleep would not come to Snape and as much as he was tempted to take a dose of Dreamless Sleep Potion as well, his mind was far too busy. Sitting up in his bed, he stirred the coals in the fire using his wand until the flames rose higher and took away the slight chill in the room.

"What game are you playing, Albus?" he asked his empty, fire-lit room. It was all too clear that Dumbledore not only remembered them from his past, but had also known how they travelled back in time. In their dreams, the Headmaster continued to urge them to find a way home.

Summoning the book by Aristotle from his bedroom desk into his hand, Snape then cast a spell that caused a small ball of light to hover over his head. He began to read the book. It was in Greek, so upon each page he had to cast a translating spell. It made for very slow reading.

The very nature of the dream world is a plane of existence that defies time and space. There are many recorded instances of wizards and witches who have travelled through the stars, or into the past via the plane of dreams. A wizard and witch, traditionally bound, will often experience each other's dreams. As this is often by consent of the married couple, it is a sharing that heightens intimacy and reinforces the bond of matrimony. It is when the dream state is invaded by another through any sort of bond, that most bonds will begin to deteriorate. Such an invasion is a grievous violation of the mind and is not only considered Dark Magic, but illegal. However, it is the rare witch or wizard who can attempt such delicate Mind Magic.

Snape closed the book as he finished reading that last paragraph. Despite the fact that some of their dreams were comforting, or some gave warning, it still made the Potions Master ill knowing that Dumbledore so easily abused their bonds. His hand began to spasm, a painful reminder of what else the Headmaster had done to him; the older wizard had subjected him to the Cruciatus Curse. To cause him such pain, even for a moment, had broken something else in Snape that was far deeper than an Unbreakable Vow.

Pushing the blankets off his legs, Snape slid from his bed and dressed. Sleep would not appear to him tonight so he would find solace in the only constant in his life: brewing.

Christmas morning arrived sooner than expected- only two days after the nightmares- and at a sinfully early hour. Ron was the first to wake up at precisely six in the morning. He stuffed his feet into his slippers and was belting his dressing gown while he raced to open his friends bedroom doors and shout them out of their peaceful slumbers. Following Ron's example with their slippers and dressing gowns haphazardly thrown over their nightcloths the four were thundering down the stairs before the clock ticked over to six-thirty.

Snape, hearing the clatter that sounded like a herd of Thestrals running through the house, leapt from his bed. He had barely tied the belt around his dark grey dressing gown to shout over the excited voices that had just passed. "If you cannot manage to behave your ages, I swear, I'll grind up that tree for mulch and your gifts for potions ingredients!"

Harry was the first to freeze in place on the stairs. Draco ran into him. Ron collided with Draco. Draco then tripped over Harry. Hermione bumped into Ron, which sent him once more into Draco who was just picking himself up. It took another few seconds for them all to right themselves while Snape watched them darkly.

"He'd look scarier if he didn't have such big, bare feet," quipped Ron. Draco snorted and Harry just chuckled.

"Kitchen," growled Snape as he loomed over all four of them and pointed down the stairs. "Set the table and then sit down. No moving. No talking. GO!"

Shoulders slumping, smiles gone, they trudged unhappily down the stairs. None of them saw the smirk on Snape's face. Just as they reached the entryway, Snape said silkily, "Merry Christmas."

As though they had rehearsed it- though they hadn't- in a perfect chorus they chimed, "Merry Christmas, Sir!"

With a nod and a hint of a smile, Snape turned on his heel and returned to his room. Much happier then they were moments before, Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione made their way to the kitchen and began to set the dining table for Christmas Day breakfast.

Lyrica and Snape arrived together, both dressed. Lyrica wore a red satin dress trimmed with green and gold. Snape wasn't in his expected black, but in a dark grey suit. His dark green frock coat was open; revealing a crisp white, linen shirt and a fitted, green velvet vest. His hair, which had grown a few inches below his shoulders, was neatly tied back with a red satin ribbon.

All four of his wards gaped at him. "Ah! Four, little hungry birds, are you?" he remarked. Casually sitting beside Lyrica, Snape unfolded his napkin and arranged it upon his lap. He had just lifted his cup of coffee when he noticed the children had yet to move. Glaring with mock exasperation, he barked, "The sooner you eat, the sooner we can get to Hogsmeade. So, tuck in!"

Breakfast was soon finished and the children ran upstairs to get dressed. For the boys, Snape had dictated they wear formal, black robes with a colourful frock coat. Harry's coat was burgundy, Ron's was crimson, and Draco's was the same dark green as Snape's. In Draco's room, Snape inspected each of the boys, did their glamourie, and then replaced the clasps on their outer robes with clasps of fresh cut holly.

"What's the holly for?" asked Harry.

"A symbol of the Winter King," said Snape as he tied Harry's tie.

"Who is the Winter King?"

"Didn't your Muggles ever tell you the story of the Holly King and the Oak King?" asked Draco with a snort.

"Sorry, I was stuck in a cupboard while they pigged out on the Christmas goose!" snarled Harry. Just as he was about to let loose and sock Malfoy for his callous comment, Snape tugged Harry, sharply, back into place and had to start over with the tie.

"Very few Muggles celebrate the Winter Solstice, Draco, so keep your snide remarks to yourself," Snape admonished the boy, then glared down at the Boy-Who-Couldn't-Stop-Fidgeting. "Will you stand still, Harry, before I put you in a body bind?"

"Awp!" gasped the Gryffindor as his Professor yanked on the tie. "Not so tight, Snape!"

Snape finished with Harry's tie and then checked Ron's. His eyes rolled as he saw the wrinkled, topsy-turvy mess. "Come over here, Ron."

Ron blushed at having Snape fix his tie. To ignore the attention, he asked, "Why'd you bring up this festival, Uncle Sev? Do you celebrate it?"

"It is a part of wizarding history that we are losing, Ron. The Winter Solstice is a very powerful, magical time and although the giving of gifts and the decorating of a tree are quaint symbols of the season, it doesn't properly honour our magic. The Winter Solstice festival we'll take part in today is an opportunity I felt that we should not miss."

"Hogsmeade doesn't hold the festival anymore," added Draco. He peered into the large mirror at the brown eyes Snape had given him.

"Why not?" Snape turned Ron around to look at himself in the mirror. He wrinkled his brow. "One of my eyes is green."

Snape sighed and spun Ron back to face him and fixed the colour of his eyes so they matched. "Hogsmeade's last Winter Solstice Festival was in... hmmm, 1899. Many in the wizarding world believe that the Muggle popularising of Christmas has invaded what our ancestors celebrated as Yule and the Winter Solstice." Snape cast a de-wrinkling spell over Ron's robes and made a mental note to check the boy's closet later to see if he was hanging up his clothes or throwing them on the floor.

"We're having a history lesson, then." Ron scrutinized his now grey eyes and impossibly blonde hair in the mirror. "Bloody hell! I'm a Malfoy!"

Snape thunked the back of Ron's head with his knuckles. "Language!"

In Hermione's room, Lyrica was helping the young Gryffindor choose a dress. She had laid out on the bed a variety of dresses. Some were solid green or solid red. Others were a mix of the two colours. Hermione, not really a fashion conscious girl, was just a bit overwhelmed.

"Red or green is my only choice?" she asked a bit in dismay as she eyed all the lovely satin and silk frocks.

"Traditional colours, Hermione." Lyrica fingered one very beautiful dress of silk that shimmered between various shades of green. The trim was gold thread embroidery of ivy along the neckline, hem, and cuffs. The golden ivy sprouted upward from the hem in tantalising spirals. Some of the spirals ended at the ankle, some at the knee, and a very few just below the waist.

Hermione's finger traced the embroidery. "It is beautiful, but my hair... the glamour."

Lyrica smiled. "Leave it all to me, Hermione and I promise, for the rest of the day Draco will only have eyes for you."

Snape and the boys were waiting, rather impatiently, in the parlour. Lyrica stepped through the door first, wearing a heavy velvet outer robe of crimson to match her dress. Red was not a colour he was fond of, but he had to admit to himself that Lyrica was resplendent in her holiday robes and she quite took his breath away.

When Lyrica stepped to Snape's side, Hermione entered the room. She wore the green silk which hung beautifully upon her petite frame. Her glamour was subtle, with red highlights to her brown, curly hair which was adorned with a crown of holly and ivy. Her eyes were grey-green and her outer robe was of rich, gold velvet trimmed with heavy, green embroidery.

Both Harry and Ron were stunned at the transformation of their friend, but it was Draco's reaction she was waiting for. His eyes shining, he stepped forward, bowed toward her and held out his hand to her. Hermione took Draco's hand just as a blush rose to her cheeks.

"You look like the Lady of Summer, Hermione Granger," he said softly. Slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow, he gave Hermione a bright smile.

Snape echoed Draco's gesture toward Hermione and placed Lyrica's hand on his right forearm. Looking at his well dressed... family (yes, my family), he felt a sense of pride and of protective possession. Whatever the future intended for them, he silently vowed to himself that he would not lose this. It tore at his heart that there was still the possibility that he would lose Lyrica, but if that was to be, he would still have his wards... his children. No matter what plans Dumbledore or Voldemort had in store for him.

A rare, genuine smile graced Snape's features very briefly. He declared, "If everyone is ready, then it is time for us to go." Snape threw Floo powder into the flames of the parlour fireplace and they were on their way.

Hogsmeade - Winter Solstice Festival

The festival opened with the traditional play of the Holly King- the symbol of winter- and the Oak King's- the symbol of summer- battle in the open courtyard at the centre of Hogsmeade. During the battle, charmed snowflakes of red and green crystal fell upon the crowd. Hermione caught a red crystal and Harry caught a green one. Draco was far too busy watching Hermione to pay attention to either the battle or the falling crystals.

Hermione was so very different, but still so like the little girl who had smiled brightly, only at him, on the Hogwarts Express platform. Every smile she gave to him, especially today, made him melt inside. He felt a great deal of pride as she walked beside him and despite the fact he knew Snape would tell him he was still too young ('You're just a dunderheaded teen boy, Draco!'), he knew without a doubt that he wanted to always be with Hermione. He intended to protect her and keep her safe from his father, no matter what the cost was. In his eyes, Hermione Granger was worth everything.

Feeling Draco's hand slip into hers, she squeezed his gloved fingers. Hermione had never felt more beautiful, more wanted, than on this day. She didn't think it at all crazy that she was falling in love with a Slytherin. To her, he was simply Draco Malfoy, the young boy who thought she was worth something. She recalled her first day as she nervously hugged her parents goodbye. She felt so odd amongst all these wizarding children that swarmed the Hogwarts Express platform. All she wanted was a friend. Someone who who had grown up as a wizard or witch, who could help her through what would undoubtedly be a very tough year. Looking around, she saw the small boy with the pale, blonde hair standing next to a matched set of parents. In the brief moment that she smiled at him, Hermione knew she saw something worthwhile in his silvery grey gaze.

Hermione was appalled, though, when she saw the little boy's father hit him sharply upon the back of the head with his cane. She knew there was trouble, and immediately mourned the loss of the one person she had wanted for a friend. It was only an hour later that she met Ron and Harry, the two most unlikely friends she ever expected to have. She wouldn't give up those two Gryffindor heroes for anything in the world, and now she felt the same about Draco. Hermione turned to her side and quickly kissed Draco's cheek. He blushed slightly, and his eyes sparkled happily back at her.

Draco's fingers tightened over Hermione's and while the others were busy with the spectacle, he guided her away from the crowd and against the door of a shop closed for the day. Snape's watchful eye lit upon them briefly, and then discretely returned to watch the end of the battle.

"Hermione," Draco began quietly with a shy smile on his face. "I have a second present under the tree for you, but this is your real gift from me." From his pocket he withdrew a small gift wrapped in red and gold and decorated with tiny sprigs of holly and ivy. Taking the hand he held, he put the gift upon her palm, let go of her hand and anxiously waited for her to open it.

"Thank you, Draco," Hermione breathed softly. As she touched the tiny, symbolic holly and ivy, they shimmered at her touch and beneath them slithered a length of very fine, silver chain. Her eyes brightened as she caught the necklace in her other hand. She wanted to open the present, but she handed the necklace to Draco, turned her back to him, and stood still as he put the necklace upon her. As he clasped it securely, she shivered warmly as his lips brushed her exposed neck.

"Open the box," he whispered as he turned Hermione back to face him.

With a charming, shy smile, Hermione unwrapped the gift to reveal a small, square box covered with dark green velvet. With a hand that was trembling ever so slightly, she opened the box to reveal a ring of twining silver with tiny, two emerald ivy leaves and two ruby holly berries. Draco removed the ring from the box, closed the lid and tucked it into his pocket. Taking her hand, he slipped the ring onto Hermione's ring finger.

"Draco..." Hermione's voice was so hushed, he almost couldn't hear her.

Pulling her a little closer, he spoke quickly, "This is a promise, Hermione, that I shall never forsake or hurt you, but do my utmost to keep you safe." He smiled again. "It is also hope... hope for a future free of the darkness for both of us." A small tear trickled down Hermione's cheek and Draco kissed it away. In her ear he whispered, "I love you, Hermione."

She threw her arms around his neck and with her smile of joy against his cheek, she replied, "I love you so very much, Draco!" Hermione then kissed him very soundly.

A tap on Draco's shoulder ended the moment of bliss and two red faces looked up into the fathomless gaze of their guardian. Hermione simply held up her hand for Snape and as he took the girl's hand into his, he could feel the tiny spark of magic woven into the precious gift.

"Your wand oath?" asked Snape with muted surprise.

Draco nodded. "Yes, sir. It was, uhm, Harry's idea. He found a book on binding oaths, promises, it was..."

A tiny smile quirked at the edge of Snape's mouth. "It is powerful magic, especially given on this day. You've done well, Draco." Snape's fingers briefly touched the boy's cheek, and then he took Hermione's hand with the ring and Draco's hand and clasped them between his. His blessing was silently given and then he smirked as he let go. "Keep in mind, you're both underage and I expect you both to... behave with decorum. Understood?"

Hermione blushed and Draco smiled. "We'll behave, Uncle Severus."

Snape gathered them to his side and they rejoined the festivities just in time to see the end of the battle between the Holly King and the Oak King. After the battle, the Holly King walked amongst the stragglers reciting silly visions to those who dropped a sickle into the chalice cupped in his hands. Harry, not really sure what possessed him, caught the man by his gilded sleeve and dropped a galleon into the almost full chalice.

"Harry," Snape warned as he put a restraining hand on the boy's arm.

He was too late as the actor began speaking in a raspy voice. "Ahhhh, a seer's words have touched your life before, young man. Heed it not, for what was your past, in this present you shall change. The mirror opens the gate to your future and warns you to hold fast to new friends." The Holly King stared deeply into Harry's glamouried eyes. "Darkness will arrive in the fifth year, my child. When he speaks, do not listen, and do NOT hesitate." The actor smiled, patted Harry on the head, and went toward the glint of a silver sickle behind Harry.

Harry was frozen. Just as his body began to tremble, Snape slid an arm over his shoulders, pulling him close. "It's all right, Harry," said Snape softly.

Harry gripped the older man's arm. "That was real, Snape!" Harry's voice was a strangled whisper. "Why did I do that? I couldn't stop myself."

"Buck up, mate," said Ron coming close. "Let's just deal with it later. The parade is starting soon."

Harry took a deep breath latching on to the normal activity his best friend offered. "Yeah, Ron." He stepped slightly away from Snape. He was reluctant to let go of the man's reassuring presence though, as he didn't want to be seen as a baby. A simple squeeze from Snape to his shoulder was enough to let him know that the Potions Master understood. "What's this parade all about, anyway?" Harry asked as he did his best to push aside what had happened.

Snape led them toward the street where the parade would begin and answered, "It is a celebration of the Winter King's court as they welcome the arrival of the Summer King's court."

"And then we get to eat?" asked Ron.

Snape glared at the current blonde boy who still retained his freckles. "Do you ever think about anything else, Ronald Weasley?"

"Failing Potions?" he wisecracked and ducked just in time to avoid a whack against his skull.

After the Winter Solstice Festival in Hogsmeade was concluded, they all returned to Ashmere. Despite a few snacks at the festival, on the sugary side, they were all hungry and happy to see a light lunch waiting for them. The soup and salad were devoured very quickly and Snape then ordered the children to bed. This brought on a spate of protests as all four were eager to attack the pile of sparkling and glittering gifts that waited under their tree in the parlour.

"We're not little children that need a nap, Uncle Severus!" complained Draco.

"Really? Funny that, but you're whining like a four year old," observed Snape.

"Not fair at all," mumbled Ron as he slouched in his chair at the dining table.

Harry was about to add his own protest, when his body betrayed him and he yawned widely. "Rest!" Snape ordered triumphantly as he caught Harry's yawn. "One hour. That's all I require of each of you," he said a little more softly.

Harry, who felt as tired as the others looked, stumbled from his chair, dropped his napkin on his plate, and headed out of the dining room. Draco nudged Harry's shoulder. "Good one, Scarhead."

"Shut up, Goldilocks."

"Oh be quiet!" ordered Hermione as she grabbed the two boys by their sleeves. "C'mon, Ron."

"Coming, Mother!" Ron called out in a sarcastically sing-song voice as he fell into step with his friends. They were soon on their way up to their rooms.

Several minutes later Lyrica addressed Snape. She was concerned as it seemed he was staring across the room, but not looking at anything. "Are you thinking of the Holly King's vision, Severus?"

"How could I not?" he sighed. "Did you hear any of the other visions he gave?" Lyrica shook her head. "Mere fluff. Entertainment. His voice... that actor's voice changed as well when speaking to Harry."

Lyrica repeated the very, un-poetic vision... prophecy? "A seer's words have touched your life before... heed it not, for what was your past, in this present you shall change. The mirror opens the gate to your future and warns you to hold fast to new friends. Darkness will arrive in your fifth year... when he speaks, do not listen and do NOT hesitate." Lyrica shuddered. As straightforward as the words were, they still gave her an unpleasant feeling. "Have you any idea what it means, Severus?"

"The first statement is easy enough to decipher," he replied. "Sybil, hardly a seer, is the one who made the prophecy about Harry. It seems that since we went back in time, as much as we've done our best not to change anything, we may have. Whatever we did has negated... well, perhaps not the entire prophecy, but maybe part of it."

"Severus?" He glanced away from the polished surface of the dining table to look at Lyrica. "Are you certain Voldemort isn't dead? From all that you've told me, everything seems to point to Lily Potter's magic destroying him."

"The Dark Lord was considerably skilled in necromancy." The fingers of his right hand lightly touched his left forearm. "Besides, if he had truly died, either this mark would have vanished, or I would have died. It has remained. Faded, but it's still... alive."

"So you believe he was injured?"

Snape nodded. "It is believed that the Killing Curse he cast upon Harry rebounded onto him. Many think he died. If he had, my mark would be gone and Harry would not bear a curse scar on his forehead. The Dark Lord will return. Albus had thought that Harry wouldn't face the Dark Lord until at least his sixth or seventh year, but now..." Snape rose to his feet. "Harry must train..."

Lyrica's voice broke in, "But you've not discovered a way home! How can you even think of preparing for a battle that child might never have to face?"

He whirled upon her angrily, "And how many times must I remind you, Madam, that my responsibility is to those children, particularly to Harry Potter? I must protect him and I must prepare him to face the Dark Lord. The fact that we are in 1898 makes no difference. Why do you refuse to see this?"

"Because I don't want to lose them! I don't want to lose you!" She rose abruptly from the table, her chair falling behind her. Feeling too confined, she ran out of the dining room.

"Lyrica!" he shouted. For a moment he paused in place, refusing to chase after her. Turning away from her was far too easy a thing to do, and moving away from the long table, he broke into a run after her. Snape caught her just as she was about to head down the stairs to the tunnel that led to the potions lab. As he grasped her upper arm, Lyrica turned and slapped him, hard, across the cheek.

Both of them froze in place. Lyrica broke first as her knuckles touched her lips in shock that she'd struck him. Snape drew Lyrica into his arms as the first of her tears glistened in her green eyes. Her sobs were silent as she wept and he did his best to comfort her. Once again he had reminded Lyrica that they must part. He could not blame her for the tears, or for having struck him. She had been so silent since they had all told her their stories of the future that he had allowed himself to believe that Lyrica had dealt with the information and put it behind her. He truly could be so very stupid at times.

"Lyrica, my dear one," he spoke very softly as he gently cupped her face in his hands. With his thumbs, he carefully brushed away the tears and leaned over to softly press his lips to hers. "I am so very sorry," he whispered.

"Please, Severus, do not apologise for what I cannot help. Just, allow me my anger and my tears." Lyrica slipped her arms around his waist and leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

He sighed heavily. There was so much he needed to say, or felt he should say, but a rare bit of wisdom towards this woman he cared so much for caused him to silence his voice and continue holding her. If there was to be any talking done, it would be later, and at Lyrica's behest, not his.

Almost Two Hours Later

The afternoon was waning and Lyrica had gone up the stairs to awaken the children. Dressed more casually and for the evening, they arrived in the parlour to see Snape seated upon a chair with a brandy snifter in his hand. King Henry was seated in the window seat plucking out Christmas songs upon his lute. With a wave of her hand, Lyrica lit the dozens of small fairy lights upon the tree, adding its glow to the flames of the fireplace.

"I'm Saint Nick!" declared Draco as he strode over to all the glittering gifts beneath the tree. He then glanced at Snape.

"Go on, then. Let's get this business done with!" he ordered brusquely.

Harry chuckled. "I can guess who's Scrooge."

Hermione stifled her laughter just as with an exaggerated snarl, Snape quoted, "Merlin save me from Christmas. It's another humbug!"

Draco picked out a pretty red and gold gift and eyed the little tag on it. He handed it to Hermione who took it eagerly. Her first gift was from Harry. It was a book bound in dark leather with gilt-edged pages. "Hogwarts: A History? Isn't it a bit out of date, Harry?" she asked with a questioning smile.

"I thought you might have fun comparing the two texts... when we get back home, Hermione."

"I would!" She leaped up and gave Harry a quick hug.

Draco floated a small gift box toward Ron who ripped the paper off quickly. "Woah!" Ron had opened up a set of player cards for all the current 1898 professional Quidditch teams in England. "Wicked, Drake! Thanks!"

Draco grinned. "Ought to be worth quite a few galleons in our time, Weasel. Perfect condition and all that."

Ron shook his head. "No way I'm selling these. Thanks again, Draco."

Draco bent down for another small box and sent it floating toward Harry. Harry opened his gift, which was from Ron. His eyes lit up just as a small figure on a broom began to dart around the parlour. It was an enchanted Quidditch seeker. "Snape! Duck!" shouted Harry as the small seeker darted dangerously close to the Potions Master.

With lightning reflexes, Snape caught the flyer out of the air and tossed it back to Harry. "I'd better not see that in class, Harry, or I can promise you it shall not see the light of day for a very long time."

Draco found a green striped gift from Hermione. He tore it open. He stared at the object that appeared to be a simple magnifying glass. He didn't seem too happy with it.

"Look at Harry and Ron through it," she urged with a mischievous smile upon her face.

Draco did so and then burst into hilarious laughter. "What?" asked Ron. Draco looked at Ron a second time through the glass and laughed again.

"Let me see that, Draco," Snape beckoned as he held out his hand for the object. Draco handed it over and just as Snape looked through it, Hermione ducked out of the line of vision. He caught sight of Harry and Ron in it. A smile quirked at the corner of his mouth. "Very amusing, Hermione. I haven't seen a Totem Glass since I myself was a boy." He then eyed Draco through the glass, smirked and handed it back to Draco.

"Totem Glass?" asked Harry. "What does it do?" Draco handed it over to Harry. Harry eyed Ron through the glass and he began laughing as well. The Totem Glass was passed back and forth causing more laughter.

Lyrica touched Snape's shoulder and he covered her hand with his. "I'm afraid I'm not at all familiar with a Totem Glass."

"It is an interesting little device that shows whomever looks through the glass the supposed totem of another person. How accurate that may be is highly questionable as it seems Draco's totem is a ferret, Harry's is a lion cub and well, Ron's appears to be an orangutan."

"And Hermione's?" asked Lyrica.

"Hermione has done very well in keeping out of the line of sight of the glass."

Lyrica and Severus watched as more gifts were opened and then Draco brought a large package over to the Potions Master. "Uncle Severus, we thought we'd all go in together to get you this. I... we hope you like it." Harry, Ron and Hermione gathered behind Draco as he handed over the green and silver wrapped box.

For a moment, Snape stared at the box as he held it in his hands. Placing it upon his lap, he then began to open the gift, very aware of the anxious looks above him from his four wards as they stood around him. As he removed the shimmering green wrapping paper a large book bound in dark green dyed leather revealed itself. He turned it over to its front cover and read the elegant lettering enhanced with silver leaf.

"The Potions Journal of Professor Severus Snape." In the lower right corner was the tiny embossed date of 1898. Snape removed the wrapping paper and the box from his lap and turned the book over in his hands a few times. He opened the cover and touched the handmade paper within. The magic within the pages felt like a soft whisper of energy. Snape realized this book was worth far more than what he had given them to purchase gifts with.

Lyrica leaned down and whispered, "They've been talking about this for weeks, Severus. I believe they had a little financial help from someone." She pointed and Snape looked past the teenagers towards The King who nodded to him. Snape nodded once.

"Each page is layered by ten, Uncle Severus," Hermione said softly.

"And you can erase mistakes," said Ron with some enthusiasm.

"That sounds like something you need, Ron," Snape said dryly as he closed the journal.

"Sir," began both Draco and Harry. The two boys looked at each other, and Draco nodded for Harry to finish. "Do you like it, Uncle?"

Snape took a deep breath. "I can honestly say that I have never had a more appropriate and well chosen Christmas gift. Draco, Hermione, Ron, and Harry, thank you very much."

They breathed a collective sigh of relief and then Snape pointed. "I believe if each of you search the tree you shall find something from myself... and Lyrica." He glowered and leaned back in the chair as they practically attacked the tree in search of what Snape could possibly have gotten them for Christmas.

Lyrica sat down beside him and whispered, "I didn't help you pick their gifts, my dear. Why don't you tell them?"

"Certainly not," he hissed back with a small smile. "They'd never believe me anyway."

Draco found his gift first. The box was no larger than his palm and wrapped in silver with a green ribbon. He quickly opened the box and found an exquisitely carved scarab beetle of black onyx. The Slytherin liked it well enough, but he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. He cast a questioning look towards his godfather.

"It is a Listening Scarab, Draco. Simply tap it thrice with your wand and send it after whomever you wish to spy on," instructed Snape.

"Oy! You'd better not use that anywhere near the Gryffindor Quidditch strategy sessions," warned Ron.

Draco sniggered as he took out his wand and sent the large black beetle scurrying over toward Ron. Ron, not too fond of spiders, didn't care much for the beetle, squeaked, and dashed out of its way.

"Careful, Draco!" snapped Snape. "The scarab could save your life someday, so have some care with it."

"Yes, sir!" Draco snatched up the scarab and it became still in his palm. "Thank you, Uncle Severus. I really do like it." Snape harrumphed.

Hermione found her gift next. It was a long, slim box wrapped in gold. She quickly unwrapped it and opened the polished wooden box. Inside, resting upon red velvet was a beautiful peacock feather quill with a silver filigree nib. On the inside of the lid were the words, Damphrey's Ever-Lasting Quill for the Serious Student.

To Snape's chagrin, Hermione ran over, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him quickly. At least it was brief as she pulled away, embarrassed by what she had done, but smiling. "Thank you very much, Uncle Severus!"

Snape chuckled. "Well, you do have a propensity to go through an inordinate amount of quills, Hermione."

Hermione smiled and agreed, "I really do!"

Ron was the next one to find his gift on the tree. It didn't seem too heavy on the tree, but as soon as he plucked it from the branches surrounding it, he could feel that it was something quite solid. Ron took the package wrapped in red and white over to the settee, placed it on his lap and opened it. It appeared to be nothing more than a block of highly polished grey marble that he could hold in the palm of his hand. However, the odd piece felt much heavier than it should have. He turned it over and over in his hands and then he shrugged helplessly, glancing at Snape.

It was Lyrica who saved Severus from having to provide the red-head with an answer. "Use your wand, Ron. One tap and say the words, 'I challenge thee'."

Ron did as instructed and was soon rewarded as the cube unfolded itself to reveal a beautiful chess set. The board was of marble, but the pieces were carved from white and black alabaster. Ron just stared at the unbelievable gift, lifting pieces and inspecting them. Hermione nudged his arm and whispered, "Say thank you, Ron!"

"Thank you, Ron," he mumbled. A sharper nudge from Hermione brought him out of his trance. "Oh! Er, yeah, uhm... thanks very much, Uncle Sev."

Snape crossed his arms and just gave the boy a sharp nod. Harry had not, yet, found his gift and he was about to walk around the tree for the third time when King Henry, who'd nodded off for a brief period, opened one eye and then pointed up. Harry craned his neck to look upward and blinked. Something flickered and darted around the star at the top of the tree and then it shot swiftly right down to him. Instinct took over and Harry caught the snitch. He opened his hand, holding the golden snitch between his thumb and his forefinger.

Snape rose to his feet and plucked the snitch from Harry's hand. It's delicate golden wings fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird. "Please don't be so foolish as to ever use this in a game of Quidditch, Harry. You would be accused of cheating if you did so." Harry frowned up at Snape. Snape flipped the snitch out of his hand and said solemnly, "Distrahere."

The snitch flew twice around Harry and suddenly belched a great cloud of blue smoke at him. Harry coughed and backed out of the cloud which quickly dispersed. Snape caught the snitch and gave it to Harry. Harry coughed once more, smiled at Snape, and thanked him.

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

"Merry Christmas... Uncle Severus." Harry grinned. He didn't ever think he'd be able to call Snape Uncle, but this once, this day, it felt so very right. Although Snape's expression was almost devoid of emotion, he could see in the man's obsidian gaze how pleased he was at how Harry had addressed him.

Snape rose from his chair and conjured up some small glasses and a brandy bottle. "Just for tonight, you each get one, small glass of brandy." He poured from the crystal decanter and Lyrica handed them each a glass. Snape then raised his glass and for a moment he looked down at Lyrica and then each of the children. "To family," he said simply and they clinked the glasses together and drank.

Draco put down his glass and went back to the tree. There was one person who had yet to open a gift. He brought a present wrapped in green and red paper over to the Headmistress of Hogwarts and gave it to her. "It's probably not the smartest gift we could give you, but after everything we've told you, we think you'd be careful with it."

Lyrica took the gift, rather puzzled by Draco's cryptic words. She unwrapped it and found two framed, enchanted photographs. The first one was of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco standing out in the snow in Diagon Alley. They were waving, smiling, and nudging each other until Harry was knocked over. When Draco offered him a hand up, Harry yanked Draco down into the snow. They were still smiling and laughing at each other. She then lifted that photo to find that somehow the photographer had caught an image of her and Severus standing in the snow, earlier that morning during the Winter Solstice Festival. Snape was suspiciously eyeing one of dozens of mistletoe that had floated over the crowds at the end of the parade. Plucking a berry from the hovering sprig, he then leaned over and kissed Lyrica.

Snape had a nice little biting remark on the tip of his tongue, but then he saw the single tear that trickled down Lyrica's cheek. Brushing it gently away, he said nothing.

"I'll cherish both of these forever," she said quietly. She then stood and swept each one of them into an embrace, ending with a kiss for Snape that had the elder wizard blushing to his toes.

"Ewww! I'm scarred for life!" groused Ron melodramatically.

"Quiet, you redheaded Saint Nick!" snapped Snape. "Get to work. There's more to open." Ron headed over to the last of the presents under the tree. Snape decided to sweep away the usual propriety as he settled into his chair and pulled Lyrica down onto his lap. They had come to an understanding, he hoped. Knowing what they both wanted, what they both felt for each other, they knew the only way to soothe the hurt they might eventually face, was to treasure the time they had now.

Severus Snape never liked Christmas, but this was one Christmas he would treasure within his memories for a very long time.