February ended silently, without incident, and Dumbledore's interfering dreams had not returned. Ron had yet to get his recital since Lyrica had been very busy at Hogwarts. The recital was scheduled for the first weekend in March and Ron could be found practising at every moment he could get away. He was really quite good, and except for the anticipation of performing in front of others, he was looking forward to showing everyone that he had a talent beyond chess and Quidditch.

Since Ron's lute playing was to be a surprise, The King had arranged for Draco and Hermione to exhibit their mastery of Medieval court dancing while Ron, Harry, and Draco would display their two- and three-way duelling mastery with swords.

Snape still was not sleeping well, despite regular doses of Dreamless Sleep Potion. He had diluted the potion since he knew quite well he was tempting addiction with the powerful potion. He had lost weight and this had finally necessitated an intervention from the children. Snape had been in a rare, nasty temper as he was cornered by his four charges in the library.

Snape sat belligerently at his desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a dark glower that could kill a Death Eater at twenty paces. "I can see that my expectations for Charms class today will go unfilled. What do you four think you're playing at?"

"You're not eating," stated Hermione. Like the boys, she was standing on the other side of the desk facing the Potions Master.

"You have the expertise to judge, Miss Granger?" Snape sneered.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. The boys, quite familiar with what such a look boded, moved surreptitiously a little closer together. None of them wanted to be caught in the line of fire. "Uncle Severus, I don't have to be an expert when my observational capabilities are more than enough."

Snape blinked. That girl's tone reminded him eerily of the scoldings he had received from Minerva McGonagall when he was a student. He wondered if the formidable Scotswoman was where the little lioness had learned it. He let out a huff of irritation. "I had an apple for breakfast."

"That's the first thing I've seen you eat in two days," she once more stated flatly and firmly.

Snape smirked and retorted, "We do have elves here, Miss... Hermione. I might be eating in the lab."

Draco spoke up with an answer to this defence. "You've never broken your own rules, Uncle Severus. No food in the lab. It can contaminate a potion." Snape only aimed a narrow-eyed look at the young snake. Draco cringed, slightly, but stood his ground.

"You've lost weight, Severus," asserted Harry.

Snape was about to order all of them outside when he caught something in Harry's piercing gaze. He dismissed Hermione, Ron, and Draco. "Stay here, Harry."

"We'll go flying," said Ron softly as he passed behind Harry. In moments, the library doors were closed and Harry took a seat opposite the Potions Master.

Harry didn't wait to be invited to speak and just blurted what he knew. "Dumbledore looked at me the same way, Severus. He was scary."

Snape was somewhat taken aback by Harry's perception. However, in this instance, perhaps it wasn't such a leap of logic. Harry had fared better, but he had been noticeably quieter, more introspective of late, than was usual since their shared nightmares. Snape nodded and sighed heavily as he dropped his arms to the chair's armrests. "I've never seen an expression on Albus' face like that before, Harry. Not even when I came to him... from... you know..." Harry just nodded. He knew that it was Dumbledore that had saved Snape when the wizard turned his back on the Dark Lord and his fellow Death Eaters.

"I feel like I've betrayed him," Harry said softly. "Just because I wish we could stay here. I should be allowed my wishes, shouldn't I? It doesn't mean that I don't feel a responsibility to my friends."

"As do I feel, too, Harry."

"Then why are you letting this haunt you so badly... sir?"

"Severus," he gently corrected.

"Severus. I mean, you're as stuck as we are."

"Yet, I'm the adult and the burden of responsibility lies upon my shoulders."

"Well, yeah, but he's being unfair, Severus! All this mucking about in our dreams and he can't tell a single one of us something straight out! What's with that? This sneaky, cryptic shite! Uhm, sorry about that." Snape merely inclined his head in understanding. "Why does he have to be that way? Why can't he just come out and tell us the truth? You know, if he would be more understanding in those dreams, maybe we'd want to go home more. Who wants to go back after getting their skull cracked open?" It was Harry's turn to slump angrily in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest in a fair imitation of the older wizard.

"Who wants to go home after being tortured?" Harry blanched and Snape shrugged helplessly. "Who am I to explain the way Albus Dumbledore conducts business? I've known him most of my life and most of the time I find myself just taking a leap of faith where he's concerned, and hoping I'm not jumping to my death."

Harry looked up, appalled. "That's stu... uhm... not smart."

"It's stupid," smirked the wizard. "Harry..." he stumbled over what he was planning on saying. He wouldn't lie to Harry, but there were some things that were meant to be private. The fact that Dumbledore might be feeling betrayed by Snape as well was something he could not articulate to the boy. He could not reveal the pain it caused him.

"Severus, don't explain. I do get it." Harry rose from his chair and made his way around the desk to stand next to Snape. He lightly placed a hand on the man's shoulder. His voice was soft and confidential, "I think I know what Dumbledore means to you and he was an unthinking idiot to have used an Unforgivable Curse on you. It hurts. More than a cracked skull does. Anyway, just, try to eat, will you? And, get some sleep, too. We don't want anything to happen to you and you know we'd be lost if you d... if something happened to you."

Snape took Harry's comforting hand in his and smiled in resignation. "I really was not thinking that far ahead, Harry, and I am sorry I've been so selfish."

Harry grinned. "Why don't you come flying with us, Severus? Even grown ups need to play once in awhile." Harry fully expected the man to brush him off, but Snape rose to his feet.

"That sounds a capital idea, Harry. I'll meet you out in the backyard."

That evening at dinner, although Snape didn't eat much, he did have a sufficient amount of food the children approved of. Just as he sent the children off to bed, he surprised himself by yawning. Obeying his body's needs, he repaired to bed and slept well. The next morning, he also had some breakfast and over the next few days he was very good about returning to his usual dietary habits. He realised that as much as his heart was in pain over Dumbledore's perceived shortcomings of the ex-Death Eater, his first priority had to be for Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Draco's well-being. He could not let them down.

The day of the recital for the adults had arrived. Chairs had been moved to the large entryway and all the candles in the large chandelier had been lit. Hermione and Draco would begin with a dance demonstration from King Henry the VIII's own court. Draco was resplendant in raiment that was a near copy of what The King wore all the time. The colours of his outfit were green and gold. His fingers were bedecked with rings of heavy stones, and a cap studded with rubies sat upon his head. The final touch to his cap was, appropriately, a beautiful peacock feather. Hermione looked stunning in a Tudor-style dress of blue silk, a brocade bodice, and an underskirt of green satin that was reminiscent of a young Queen Elizabeth the First. Draco nearly forgot he was supposed to dance with the lovely maiden as he watched her descend regally down the grand staircase. Ron and Harry, sitting off to the side with Snape and Lyrica also thought their friend looked beautiful and nearly managed to ruin the whole effect with a few whistles. Snape whispered a threat of a silencing spell and they immediately quieted.

On the other side of the entryway was King Henry with his lute. As Hermione met her dance partner, the lute was plucked to life. Draco gave a courtly bow to his lady and with a dramatic flourish of his wand, a host of costumed court dancers without faces joined them on the floor. As they danced, Harry and Ron had been prepared to make little snide remarks, but those teasing remarks never showed as both boys found themselves wrapped up in the pageantry before them. When the dancing finally ended, the extra participants vanished in a shower of silver and gold. Hermione curtsied and Draco bowed, and then both ran quickly up to the second floor.

The fencing duel was next so Ron and Harry left their places with the small audience and ran over to the library to get ready. Hermione returned from the second floor and took her seat beside Lyrica. When the boys returned, all three had been outfitted- at Draco's 'strong' insistence- in costumes of Merry Men. Harry had a passing knowledge of the story, Robin Hood, but Ron hadn't. He had gone on at length about how he wasn't about to wear such 'sissy' clothing, until Draco found a copy of the book in a bookshop in Diagon Alley. Ron soon became just as enthralled with the story of the hero Robin Hood as Draco was and there was no more fighting over the costumes.

The fencing began with an exhibition between Draco and Ron. Each held rapiers straight up before them, and then, with a sharp movement, they saluted with the blades. Their fight was well choreagraphed, almost like a dance. They fought across the floor, back and forth, until Ron delivered the Coup de Grace. Draco's death was suitably melodramatic as he collapsed to the floor with a cry of, "O, I am slain!"

The next fight was Draco against Harry. Each boy was armed with a dangerous looking dagger in each hand. There was no pretense of civility in this duel. Harry stood on the second floor landing while Draco stood in a half crouch, at the foot of the stairs. With a yell that shocked Snape, Lyrica, and Hermione, Harry leaped from the landing and right on top of Draco. The daggers were a blur as the boys fought madly. Snape rose from his seat, once, his wand drawn. He felt two heavy hands upon his shoulders that directed him back to his seat. A whisper from The King assured him that both boys knew exactly what they were doing. The fight ended with a dramatic double strike of Draco's daggers against Harry; one across his throat and one to his kidneys. The blood spurt from Harry's neck was almost too much for Snape and he was halfway across the floor of the entryway when Harry sat up and grinned. Snape stopped in his tracks and glowered, heavily. Everyone held their breaths and remained frozen where they were, certain that Snape would now explode, or at the very least hex Harry. Instead, the Potions Master pulled himself to his full height, adjusted his outer robe, and politely nodded to both boys. With his own billowing flourish of robes, he returned to his seat in the audience.

The final fight was a three-way clash of long swords. It was a chaotic coordination of dramatic leaps from the second floor gallery, along the stairs, leaps from the second floor landing to the entryway, until it ended with Harry and Draco disarming Ron.

"What think you of their performance, Sir Raven?" asked The King as he sat on an invisible chair next to Snape.

"Quite good, Your Majesty. Although I think you ought to consider teaching Hermione the same skills." Hermione heard this and looked toward her guardian and the ghost. "Would you like that, Hermione?"

"Oh yes! I'd love to learn how to use those daggers. Could I, Your Majesty?"

The King frowned thoughtfully and then grinned at the girl. "If you are so interested, then your wish is my command."

Still in costume, Draco and Harry headed back over to the sidelines. Draco spoke softly, "I think Ron's got some secret up his sleeve."

They all ceased talking as the lights gently dimmed until a magical light beamed down in soft yellow over the center of the floor. There was Ron, seated upon a four-legged stool with a half-moon curved seat. He was dressed in a medievael court musician's colourful costume of green, blue, red and gold. In his hands was a beautiful, very old, antique lute. Without preamble, he began playing the first piece of music. Somewhere in the shadows behind Ron were a chorus and a flute player. Their accompaniment did not overshadow his playing. The piece was, of course, one of The King's own compositions, a fast-paced piece of music called 'Pastyme With Good Companye'.

Ron was bowed over the lute as his fingers plied the instrument. His concentration was on his playing and on the music. Inwardly, it was the music that carried him and he was little aware of his audience as he played. There was only a short moment of silence as he finished the first piece. In that brief quiet between songs, Ron did not raise his head to acknowledge his surroundings. He did a little tuning and the began the second piece. This one was a little more contemporary with music of his age. It was a ballad of two lovers. As he played, this time with only the soulful voice of a singer to accompany him, Ron was not aware of the tears coursing down Hermione's cheeks, nor the fact that Lyrica had slipped her hand into Snape's. Draco and Harry were just completely speechless at what they were seeing and hearing. Neither felt the least like teasing the boy as they both were able to see that just in playing something so well, Ron had spun a magic that was tangible only in the sense that it touched the souls of all present.

When Ron finished the second song and rose to his feet, he had a split second where he was afraid that perhaps he had failed and embarrassed himself and would never live the humiliation down. To his astonishment and delight, the entryway was soon filled with applause. The lights returned and Ron was quickly surrounded by his friends.

The babble of questions, congratulations, and awe were impossible for Ron to address. He could only smile. It wasn't until Snape spoke, that everyone else was silent and Ron's smile slipped marginally.

"I never expected a Weasley to surprise me in the manner you just have, Ronald. I truly hope that someday your family will be treated to such a show so that they may bestow upon you their pride and pleasure. You have done very well."

Ron was certain he'd stopped breathing at Snape's immense compliment. In fact, he was sure of it when Harry smacked him firmly on his back. The astonished redhead coughed sharply and quickly composed himself as he addressed Snape, "Thank you, si... Uncle Sev... Severus. Thank you for letting me know my parents would have liked this."

A benevolent nod from Snape and the show was over. They retired to the parlour for hot chocolate and Ron, happily centre stage, answered the questions his friends had and played a few more songs on the lute.