Harry kept his promise to Snape and didn't talk about their midnight adventure. Draco knew he'd been up to something, but the Gryffindor denied any idea of what Draco was thinking had gone on. It was the aftermath of that adventure that had Harry concerned. Snape had disappeared. Not literally, of course. He was in the house, but secluded. The very next day Snape had cancelled their classes and hadn't shown up for meals. Three days had come and gone and other than fleeting glimpses here and there, none of them saw him for any amount of extended time.

During a beautiful afternoon the quartet were outside, flying on their brooms, after Harry's Distraction Snitch. As they all knew the spell that released the smoke, the object of their game wasn't to catch the snitch, but to activate the spell and fly away from the others. Hermione thought it was a bit like the Muggle game of 'Tag'. Harry, who was 'It' at the moment, was haring away from the others flying in a smooth zig-zag pattern. He had just passed the snitch, missing it, when Draco activated the spell. Blue smoke belched out and Draco spun wildly to fly away from Harry. Ron had been caught in part of the smoke and collided suddenly with Hermione. She and Ron both lost control of their brooms and tumbled downward. They weren't too far off the ground since Snape had spelled all the brooms with a height limit after the chandelier fiasco, but it was high enough that when Hermione hit the ground she twisted her ankle. She didn't cry out, but their were tears coursing down her cheeks at the pain.

Ron was unhurt, but his broom was fractured. He tossed it aside as he ran over to Hermione. Harry grabbed his snitch, pocketed it, and flew down to land beside Ron. Draco was right behind Harry. As soon as the Slytherin's feet touched the grass, he dropped his broom and rushed over to Hermione and dropped down on his knees beside her.

"I think it's just twisted," she sniffed.

"Let me see," said Draco softly. He carefully removed Hermione's shoe and then the sock. "It's already swelling." He touched the distressed ankle carefully and Hermione let out a gasp.

"Let's get her inside," said Harry. He took off his hat and transfigured it into a stretcher. Draco levitated Hermione onto the stretcher and then levitated her and the stretcher up off the ground. "I'll go get Severus," Harry declared and ran into the house.

Draco and Ron took the path of least resistance and settled Hermione on the sofa in the parlour. Ron stopped Draco from doing a cooling charm on the girl's ankle. "Charms can go a bit wonky on an injury if you don't know what you're doing," said Ron as he paraphrased from a recent lesson.

"Right, then," Draco agreed and put away his wand. "A cloth and some ice?"

Ron nodded and with a bit of conjuring, they soon had Hermione's ankle surrounded by ice. Harry arrived in the parlour, breathless. "The lab's locked. I can't get his attention. I tried calling for Henry, too, but he didn't answer."

Draco scowled. "Well, we'll just have to wait then. How are you doing, love?"

"It's feeling better," she replied.

Draco settled himself on the sofa so that Hermione was now leaning against him. He drew his fingers through her curls while Ron reluctantly took out his chess set. They began to play chess, but no one spoke. The only noise in the room was that of the chess pieces arguing and fighting.

They waited.

And then they waited some more.

Dorcas tried to get them to eat dinner, but none of them were interested in food. Harry's anger at Snape was reflected in his aggressive chess playing. The pieces enjoyed the extra aggression, but Ron was getting annoyed at the lack of any attempt at strategy on Harry's part. In between waiting, they argued briefly over nothing in general.

Draco ignored Harry and Ron until they got too annoying and he felt obligated to snap, rather Snape-like, at them both. Hermione, who had been drifting off now and again, elbowed Draco, showing her own irritation.

"Potter, this disappearing act of Sev's has to do with you sneaking off three nights ago," glared Draco. "Care to spill the beans now about what happened?"

"No," replied Harry stubbornly.

"Look...!" Draco was interrupted from any further inquiries by Snape striding in, finally...

Snape was angry... with himself. As he strode across the entryway from the small door to the lab, he was mentally berating himself for having sealed himself away so thoroughly. It had taken the efforts of both house elves and King Henry to get through the wards he'd erected around the lab.

The need to isolate himself was an old habit borne out of necessity. As a child, it was often his only way of insuring that he wouldn't be bothered by others when the world became too overwhelming for him to face. As an adult, his need for such privacy had come about from his dealings as a spy. Many of the atrocities he'd been witness to at the hands of the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters didn't always haunt his dreams. There were times when he would be fully awake and unable to find respite from the screams echoing in his mind. By raising wards that prevented intrusion and eavesdropping, Snape was allowed, when needed, to vent his own emotions through angered shouts, and sometimes, his own screams.

Of course there was none of that at Ashmere. It held a peace he had not experienced for a very long time. A peace that was comparable to those innocent days when he played at a Muggle playground with a pretty, green-eyed, redhaired witch. His nightmares and waking horrors had been blessedly quiet all these months.

He blamed old habits for having erected those stupid wards he had no need of now. He blamed Lyrica. His penchant for brooding to cover the pain of Lyrica's betrayal, brought back that 'Other Snape' he had promised Harry would not return. He did not want to foist that part of himself on his children. Snape always found peace in a potions lab. As he brewed, he was able to find a calm that aided him in dealing with his thoughts, but at what cost? He'd ignored his children and one of them... Hermione had gotten hurt. "Hours ago," he muttered to himself.

He entered the parlour and was met by four, quiet expressions. There was curiosity mixed with anger, but the worst was the disappointment in him they all shared. He forced the pain that threatened to derail him behind the shields long ago built by Occlumens. Old habits, again, his mind sneered.

It was very awkward, and perhaps the uneasiest quarter of an hour the Potions Master had ever endured. Harry had, perhaps wisely, left the parlour before Snape had completely entered the room, but not before giving Draco a curt nod. Terse, short explanations from Ron and Draco coldly related the story of Hermione's accident. Once Ron's story was finished, he said goodnight, and did not bother to put his chess set away before leaving.

Snape examined Hermione's ankle. It wasn't broken, but it had been severely sprained. The ice had been a smart move and had kept the swelling down considerably. Snape summoned a Pain Potion phial and Hermione obediently drank it down. The potion had a mild sedative so she was soon deeply asleep.

"Do you want to tell me what's been bothering you, Severus?" asked Draco as he carefully slipped himself out from under Hermione and tucked a pillow under her head.

Snape seated himself in the chair nearest the fire. "Do you really think it's any of your business?" The sneer in his voice was half-hearted, at best.

"Actually, I do. I think it's all of our business. Like it or not, we're a family now, a really weird family..." he smirked slightly, and continued, "...what happens to you affects us, no... it concerns us because we only have each other to rely upon." He flopped down into a chair realising he was doing a poor job of getting to his point and he ran his fingers through his hair. "I know you and Harry had some sort of late night adventure recently. I've tried to get him to tell me what happened, but he wouldn't give a single detail." Draco shook his head and smiled wanly. "Stubborn Gryffindor, that one." Draco sighed. "Whatever happened, Severus, took you away from us. Again. I thought that when we intervened after yours and Harry's nightmares that you understood how much we need you. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you don't need us."

Snape stiffened. Draco might as well have stabbed him with a dagger, those words hurt him just as much. He tried to push that away with a deprecating remark, "You're sounding more and more like a Gryffindor each day, Draco."

"Hmmm, yeah," mused Draco as he stared into the flames of the fire. "Interesting you should mention that. Did you know that the Sorting Hat almost put me in McGonagall's house."

If Snape had had a drink in his hand, it would have dropped to the floor with a crash. He turned and stared at the young boy. "You're not serious?"

Draco shrugged. "Call it my shameful secret, but yeah, I came this close to being a lion cub." Draco pinched his index and thumb together. "That wasn't going to happen, though. I knew I had to be close to you, so I wished with all my strength to be in Slytherin."

"Do you have any regrets?" asked Snape slowly.

Draco shook his head. "I don't. Me, Ron, Hermione, and Harry, we've all talked about the Sorting Hat and concluded that it's a filthy, old bunch of felt that ought to be tossed out with all the other rubbish. Bet you didn't know it wanted to put Hermione in Ravenclaw and Harry in Slytherin." Draco snorted. "We just think the houses really don't mean much. At least, not now... not for us." Draco stretched out his hand and caressed Hermione's cheek. She smiled in her sleep.

Both were quiet for several long minutes. Snape was surprised that the Sorting Hat had chosen other houses for Hermione and Harry, but as he mulled it over, it made sense about the houses the hat had tried to sort them into. Harry's predilection for keeping secrets and sneaking through the castle late at night to have encounters with Trolls and Basilisks was more Slytherin than Gryffindor. How much easier it would have been for he and Harry had the boy been sorted into his house. Perhaps he wouldn't have treated the boy as abominably as he had. Hermione he could easily have seen in Ravenclaw, but she somehow shone more in Gryffindor. As for Draco, had he been sorted into the Slytherin house rival of Gryffindor, Lucius would have killed the boy on his first visit home. Of that, there was no doubt.

"Back to the subject," Draco said bluntly, taking Snape away from his distracted thoughts.

"The subject?" Draco just rolled his eyes at the very poor attempt to avoid the topic of conversation again. Snape sighed. He was too tired to make any effort at subterfuge. He closed his eyes lightly and then replied, "The book I've been looking for, the one of Flamel's experiments with time? Harry and I found it."

"Shouldn't you be happy, then?" Draco asked as he frowned in puzzlement.

Draco heard an emptiness in his godfather's voice as he explained, "Professor Arcahnum specifically hid the book and said nothing about it all the while knowing I needed it." Opening his eyes, Snape then glared into the flames.

Draco noted that Snape had not referred to Lyrica by her first name. He processed this information with the fact that the Headmistress had withheld information that might hold the solution to the way home. Another look at his godfather and he saw the anger fade briefly as he saw pain of a different sort harden the flint of his black eyes. She had hurt Snape. A brief bloom of righteous anger bit at his heart. How could she have done this to his godfather? Didn't Lyrica realise how close the man kept his feelings and Snape had let her into his heart! Draco started to put a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder, but he pulled back as the older wizard flinched.

"Go to bed, Draco," Snape said in resignation before the inquisitive boy dared to dissect him further. "I'll stay here with Hermione and tomorrow we'll talk about the book."

Draco nodded and rose from his chair. He walked over to Hermione, brushed his lips to her forehead, and then left the parlour. Snape rose to his feet, summoned a blanket and covered Hermione with it. He brushed a few stray curls from her forehead and touched her cheek, briefly, with his fingertips as she sighed contentedly in her sleep.

Returning to his chair, he conjured a glass of brandy for himself and stretched out his long legs toward the fireplace. He held the glass of dark amber liquid before the flames and watched as the flickering light turned the brandy into dark, liquid, fiery gold. With a grimace he brought the glass to his lips. Tomorrow was Friday. Lyrica would arrive in the evening for the weekend. The brandy was gone in a single swallow, and with calculated viciousness, he threw the glass into the flames.

Friday evening, Lyrica arrived at Ashmere at 6:30 in the evening. When no one met her in the entryway, she had the first sign that something wasn't right. The next sign was the pervading quiet. Four teenagers, even with Severus Snape to temper their worst habits, did not make for such an eerily silent home.

The Headmistress of Hogwarts knew her instincts were correct when she saw Kalima, the black and silver Naga, slithering her way down the banister.

"What'sss going on?" demanded Lyrica.

"Consssequencesss, child," hissed the serpent in reply. "They wait in the library."

Lyrica's soul sank to the furthest depths of her guilt. "Kalima! You gave Sssseverussss the book?"

"Would you have a family bassssed on a lie? I think not." The Naga hissed sharply, exposing her sharp, curved fangs.

Understanding the threat of further argument, Lyrica straightened her spine, and walked solemnly to the library. As she pushed open the tall, double doors to the Arcahnum Family Library, she found herself face to face not just with Snape, but Ron, Harry, Draco, and Hermione.

Snape dropped the slim volume by Nicolas Flamel onto the surface of his desk with a sharp slap and rose to his feet. "The text is in code, Madam. Deciphering it would have taken months. Months you could have had with us. I... we would never have known of your betrayal."

The color drained from Lyrica's cheeks. "I did not betray you!"

Snape's deadly tone of voice held more anger than did a shout. "The only reason you could have for hiding this book is that it must hold the answer we have been searching for! You've known this and said nothing to us. That, my dear woman, is a betrayal of my... our trust!"

"You had my notes destroyed on purpose," Hermione quietly accused. Lyrica tore her gaze from Snape's pained and angered expression and found herself swallowed up in the pain of what she had done to the child's hard work. "Why didn't you trust us?"

Lyrica's legs could not hold her upright any longer and she sank to the floor as her velvet green robes pooled around her sitting form. She did not want to face any of them, most of all Severus, but she forced herself to raise her chin and settle her gaze on the depthless black orbs of the Potions Master. "I know my actions were cruel and thoughtless, but I am afraid for all of you. This Voldemort... if I let you go, I'll not know to my dying day whether or not you're all safe and alive!"

"You're selfish," stated Ron stonily as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you really think I want to live here happily ever after knowing that I might have been able to do something to save my family? My sister, my brothers and my parents? What about Hermione's parents? Don't you think they might like to remember someday that they have a daughter?"

"I have a sister to find," added Draco with an icy stare. "Without Severus there to protect her, my father might find her and finish what he intended to do when she was 8 years old." He slammed his fist upon his desk, startling the others. "All the hopes of the wizarding world are on Harry's shoulder! Do you think he's going to be happy here knowing that he might have been the one to kill Voldemort and save thousands, and didn't?"

Harry stretched out his hand and touched Draco's forearm to calm him. Draco slumped, almost like a ragdoll, onto the chair behind his desk. "I know you fear for us, but you had no right to decide our future for us."

"Tell us what's in this book, or we will leave Ashmere, tonight." Snape's voice was harsh, grating, and demanded a quick answer. Lyrica looked at each of their faces again, before she settled her focus once more on Snape. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. She knew his threat was not an idle one. Whether they stayed, or left this evening, she had lost them. She tried to speak, but could not find her voice. Snape spoke again, only this time, his threat frightened not only Lyrica, but the children as well. "Don't make me Obliviate your memories of us, Headmistress. Permanently."

Using the last of her resolve to keep her tears at bay, she forced herself to her feet. Lyrica's voice was without emotion, empty, as she recited, "In 1832 Nicolas Flamel was the first and last person to enchant a single object as a portkey to the future; his wife's boudoir mirror. Twenty-five years later, in 1859, he enchanted the very same mirror a second time and retrieved his dog from 1832."

Snape practically flowed around his desk until he was standing directly in front of Lyrica. His voice was cold flint and sharp obsidian as he demanded, "Did the dog survive?"

"Yes," she whispered. "The portal collapsed and further experiments... Flamel discovered that it was impossible to create another portal with the same object, nor was... " she began to falter and stumble over her wrods, "he was unable to create multiple time portals... it affected... there's only one chance... only one. If you fail, you can never use another portgate to return to 1994." She could no longer stand the anger and hurt in Severus' eyes and the accusing and pitying looks from the children. With a sharp cry, she turned and ran out of the library.

For a moment none of them moved and then Hermione jumped to her feet. She started to run to the door, but stopped just past Snape and whirled back to him. "How could you threaten to Obliviate her? You're horrid!" With that, Hermione ran after Lyrica.

Snape stood frozen in place for a few seconds before turning and striding back to his desk. He lowered himself onto his chair, deliberately slowly. He then leaned slightly forward, placed his elbows on the desk and brought his fingers together. "Get out." His voice was tightly controlled as he stared at the open library door.

The boys scrambled to their feet, but Harry paused as he glanced over his shoulder at Snape. He started to speak when he heard Draco hiss, "Harry, don't."

Harry knew Snape was close to an explosion, but he had to say what he was thinking. "Severus, I know what Lyrica did was wrong, but Hermione is right; if you ever cared about her, how could you have threatened her like that?"

There seemed to be a distinct chill in the air as time practically froze them in place. After a very long moment, when no one appeared to breathe, Snape focused briefly on Harry and spoke very quietly, "Leave now, Harry. Go outside." With a wave of his wand, the library doors began to close, slowly, scooting them out of the room. When the doors were closed, there was the faint feel of strong magic emanating from within. Snape had thrown a silencing spell around the room.

Lyrica had run to the door of her retreat, only to find that Kalima had changed her wards so she could not get in. The Naga was nowhere to be seen and in frustration, the Headmistress smacked the palms of her hands against the resistant door. She quickly left it and retreated to the darkness of the Observatory.

Once alone, the tears came as she grieved over the loss of her family. She had known that if her treachery were discovered, the price would be a high one. What hurt more was that she had shattered Severus' trust in her. He had threatened to remove all her memories. His kisses, his sweet words... all as though they had never happened. Ron, Hermione, Draco, and Harry would never have existed. No Christmas, no family, no... love. Lyrica had not expected the Potions Master's threat and when the word Obliviate had passed Severus' lips, she'd felt her heart turn to ice.

Her weeping increased as the cost of her betrayal stabbed deeply into her soul.

"His words can be very cruel, but I know Uncle Severus would never Obliviate you."

Lyrica raised herself from her crumpled over position on the chaise lounge to regard Hermione as the young girl stood partially in the shadows. "Perhaps, but it is no less than what I deserve for having deceived all of you," she said with defeat.

"You don't deserve that at all." Hermione left the shadows and sat down beside the older woman.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" There was a sharp tinge to her voice as she dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief.

"Yes it does!" Hermione grasped one of Lyrica's hands. "Are you going to give us up so easily? Of course he's angry. We all are. Ron, Draco, Harry, and I may not be as angry as Uncle Severus, but don't you think he has a right to be? He didn't just trust you as a friend, Lyrica, he loves you!"

"I destroyed his trust, Hermione. No matter if he loves me, he won't allow himself to forgive me, and I wouldn't ask him to." Lyrica's emerald gaze strayed to the silent night outside and watched as clouds drifted lightly across the face of the full moon.

The veranda was lit up during the night by candles burning in amber coloured hurricane lamps. It was here that the boys had retreated when Snape ordered them out of the library. Draco was now pacing nervously, his mind on what Hermione might be saying to Lyrica. Harry's thoughts were his own as he sat upon a middle step, his elbow bent on one knee and his chin resting in that hand. Ron was staring at the front door. Ron glanced briefly between Draco and Harry before going to the door, opening it, and slipping into the house. Draco started to follow, but Harry called the blonde-haired boy back.

"Snape'll kill him," muttered Draco as he moved to sit down by Harry.

"Somehow, I don't think so. But, if we hear screaming, wands drawn, no prisoners?" Harry smirked and Draco elbowed Harry sharply and chuckled.

Ron walked with purpose across the entry way and over to the library doors. The silencing spell was gone and there was no locking spell in place. Whatever yelling Snape had meant to do, he was apparently done with it. Ron put his hand on the door, almost knocked, but then thought better of it. He pushed open the door just enough to allow himself inside, and then closed the door after he stepped into the library.

"I thought I told ALL of you to leave," came Snape's weary voice from the shadows behind his desk. All the lights had been extinguished with the exception of the fire burning in the fireplace.

Ron knew if this were the 'other' Professor Snape he were facing down in his dungeons, he'd be running right back through the library doors. There was a warning in the man's tone of voice, but no malice. No sign that he was going to insult Gryffindors, redheads, or yell. Taking a shallow breath, he moved a little closer and began to speak, "Did you know my mum left my dad? Last year?"

That got the older wizard's attention and Ron heard the leather of the man's chair squeak as he shifted his attention from the window to the boy. "No, I hadn't heard." Snape's voice was cautious, but there was interest.

"After the, uhm, car my dad enchanted?" A faint snort of amusement came from the shadows and Ron blushed at the memory of the verbal beating he and Harry had received from Snape the night they had arrived at Hogwarts so... violently. "Yeah, well, mum was right mad at dad. He's really bad about Muggle stuff and mum, she gets irritated all the time at dad's hobby, but that car really did her in."

"I expect the fact that you and Harry also managed to jeopardise your lives and your father's job at the Ministry contributed as well," stated Snape smoothly.

"Well, yeah, but mum, though she was mad at me and Harry, ultimately it was dad's fault. She's been telling him for years to clear out his Muggle shed of junk, that it's nothing but trouble, but dad just wouldn't listen. Then Fred and George and me go and rescue Harry from his relatives and then we use the car to go to Hogwarts. Well, it was too much for mum. They had a really bad row. Ginny, me, Fred and George found out from a letter from dad a few days after Harry and I got Howlers that mum went home to her sister's house. Mum wouldn't write to any of us..." Ron paused as the pain of that old rebuff swelled up in his heart again.

"Did your mother ever forgive your father, Ron?" asked Snape softly.

"Right before Christmas, yeah. Mum and dad, they really love each other, you know? I mean, we hear the jokes others tell about them- seven kids and all, but that doesn't matter. Not to us, really. Even something as bad as what dad did, my mum was just worried about dad. He can be thick sometimes, I guess," Ron shrugged off the insult toward his father. "He just goes overboard sometimes with that Muggle junk and its not real smart these days. But, mum, she couldn't get him to listen and when it came down to her family or dad, well, dad kind of lost, you know?"

"I do believe I understand what you're saying. Despite your father's hobby endangering the lives of her children, your mother still had the capacity to forgive the man she loved?"

Ron smiled brightly. "Yeah, that's it, Uncle Sev! My mum, she can be real hard to live with, but she loves all of us, including dad, and although she had to leave to get it through his head how stupid he was, she forgave him." Ron grimaced slightly. "Of course, after Christmas we were all kind of worried there might be an eighth redhead on the way."

Snape outright laughed sharply, but bit it off. He lit the lantern on the corner of his desk and the flickering flame threw his features into sharp shadows. His eyes glittered darkly, but the gaze wasn't one that sent Ron into shivers. "Why did you come back to talk to me, Ron?"

For a long minute Ron was silent and scuffed his shoe uneasily upon the wooden floor. He then looked up into Snape's face, "I... well, you said you were going to Obliviate Lyrica. That's..." he hesitated as he saw a glimmer of hardness in the older man's eyes. He forged ahead, and continued his explanation, "...we're all mad at her, but none of us want her to forget us. It would be taking something away from us, if you did that. Also, I think Lyrica knows how dangerous it would be for us if she did anything to change time. I know she wouldn't ever do that."

Ron watched Snape intently for a reaction, anything that would let him know what the Potions Master was thinking. He was the last person to believe that Snape ever had it in him to change, to care about anyone, but he'd seen it. Severus Snape, the bane of the Weasley clan since his brother Charlie was a student at Hogwarts, was not the same person who had held Ron as his body shivered with fever and he cried over the loss of his family. Neither was the 'bat of the dungeons' the same man who had healed his frozen fingers and toes after Ron had fallen into an ancient barrow. The 'greasy git' who had taken 75 points from Gryffindor after Ron had lost his temper at the man in Potions Class was not the same wizard that had wiped away his tears, hugged him, and told him how when the chandelier had fallen and shook Ashmere, that he thought he'd lost him.

The Severus Snape that sat so silently at the large desk in the library, Ron knew without a doubt, didn't just worry and care about them, but loved them. Ron didn't need to hear the words, he understood actions. Only his parents had ever behaved the same way. Ron also knew that Snape was deeply in love with Lyrica, and her ill-thought actions had hurt this very solemn, private man who had opened his heart to her and to four teenagers that used to be the cause of 90 of his migraines.

Snape let out a soft breath and motioned for Ron to step closer to him. It heartened him that Ron didn't hesitate and moved from where he'd been standing near the closed doors to stand beside the Potions Master behind his desk. Snape spun his chair slightly so that he and Ron were now facing each other. "I promise you, Ron, that I'll not use a Memory Charm on Lyrica. I am, however, still very angry and disappointed in her. Although her actions have shaken my... trust, I know I spoke too harshly."

Ron snorted softly, "That's probably why Hermione snapped at you."

"Indeed."

"So, now what happens?" asked Ron.

Snape leaned back in the desk chair. "I shall wait for Hermione to finish speaking with Lyrica and..." he noted Ron shaking his head. "Do you have a suggestion as to what I should do instead?"

"If Lyrica's anything like my mum is, it's best to get it over with."

Snape regarded the boy solemnly and then sneered lightly, "You're not suggesting that I apologise, are you?"

Ron shuffled slightly and glanced down at his shoes and then back up into the older wizard's face. "Well, you did threaten to take away her memories. I know what she did wasn't right, but you really didn't help at all by threatening to Obliviate her." Ron blurted his opinion so abruptly, he was almost afraid that he was going to lose house points. Instead, Snape sighed heavily, rose to his feet, put a hand on Ron's shoulder and directed him out of the library.

"Go and get Draco and Harry, Ron, and get some dinner. I'll find Lyrica and then send Hermione along." He watched for a moment as Ron headed for the front door and then stopped the boy, "Ronald?"

"Yeah?" Ron paused with his hand near the door.

"Would you say this was a checkmate?"

Ron grinned at the chess analogy, "Not quite, Uncle Sev. Check, at the very least, but you might be able to win this game if you move wisely."

Snape inclined his head in a slight nod toward Ron. "I shall do my best."

By doing a location spell, Snape was able to find Lyrica and Hermione in the Observatory. He entered, stealthily, and blended into the shadows as he listened to them talking softly.

"...your notes, Hermione. I am very sorry for that. Perhaps even moreso than having hidden Flamel's book."

"I'm not angry about my notes anymore. What I don't understand is why you taught me the portgate enchantment." Hermione, ever the student seeking knowledge and understanding, settled her querulous gaze upon the Headmistress.

It astonished Lyrica that she did not see anger or recrimination in the child's brown eyed, earnest look. For a moment Lyrica lowered her head into her hand. Her long, dark red hair fell from her shoulder in a cascade of silk. When she raised her head to look into Hermione's anguished gaze, her eyes glittered with unshed tears. "If I were a true Slytherin I'd have made certain you never mastered that spell, my dear girl, but I couldn't... I know it makes no sense, Hermione. I knew as I was destroying your research that I had to give you something in return."

Hermione smiled slightly and to Lyrica's surprise, she enveloped the older woman in a brief, but firm embrace. The Gryffindor pulled away, but kept her hands clasped to the Headmistress's upper arms. "I do forgive what you did, Lyrica. I know you were acting on impulse to keep us safe. However, I'm not Uncle Severus, and what you did to him... I can't say what he'll do. I do know, he'd never erase your memories of us. It was a hurtful thing for him to say, but he isn't a cruel man."

Lyrica's hand cupped Hermione's cheek and she spoke softly, "No, he isn't cruel, Hermione. If Severus were, he wouldn't love all of you as much as he does." She kissed the girl's forehead and smiled. "I think you should go get some dinner. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione rose to her feet and whispered 'goodnight'. She drifted into the shadows, never noticing how close she came to Snape before walking through the door.

Snape remained in the shadows where he was and watched Lyrica. Old habits, not instinct as he wanted to blame it, were screaming at him to turn away, now, and to never again speak to the woman who stared out at the darkness of the night. A very small part of him did understand, why Lyrica had done what she'd done, but still it bit painfully at his heart.

Lyrica rose from the chaise and made her way over to the large telescope built by her ancestor, Bastien Arcahnum. She climbed up into the leather chair, and leaned over slightly to look into one of four different eyepieces. Through the telescope the tiny dots of light against the inky backdrop multiplied and became a carpet of spilled diamonds, sapphires, and fire opals across the black velvet of the universe.

Cool, slim fingers touched the nape of Lyrica's neck and she lifted her head from the eyepiece and leaned back into the touch slightly. "I am so very wrong for what I did, Severus, and I would not blame you if you..."

"Quiet, Lyrica," his command fell upon her ears like velvet. "A brilliant Muggle author once wrote, 'Desperate times call for desperate measures'. I know your intention was not to hurt us or to betray me, but to keep us from that which causes all of us fear." Snape drew Lyrica from the chair and away from the telescope. He stood in front of her, his height overshadowing her, making her feel small. "You need to understand something... about me. My trust is not easily given. After the loss of a very dear friendship when I was younger, I trusted no one. It was a dangerous time and I was around dangerous people. With the loss of my dearest friend Lily, for something I did and she could not forgive, I made a grave error and put my trust in the hands of a madman. When I saw the error of my ways, I put my trust in Dumbledore. I have long trusted him until the night he hurt Harry, frightened Hermione, and used an Unforgivable Curse upon me in our dreams. I still want to trust him, but I am afraid I may not be able to. In all this doubt and worry I've had over trusting in my mentor, I had you, Lyrica. Someone I could lean on, who understood and listened. I opened my heart to you and gave you my trust."

Snape took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped gently at the tears that had begun slipping down Lyrica's cheeks once more. She tried to speak, but he stopped her.

"It is my nature to fight or to run. I am not a diplomat. I don't fix what appears on the surface as broken. I take my pain and I bury it in the darkest corners of my mind until even my nightmares have a hard time finding it. I am too old to run, Lyrica. I have found something worth fighting my nature for which is why I stand here, now. You hurt me and I could not stop myself from striking back in the only way I knew to hurt you which was threatening to destroy your memories of us. I will not do that to you."

"But you have every right to do so, Severus," she said softly as she sniffed through her anguish.

He shook his head. "No, I do not. I only just realised how important it is to Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione that someone else besides us have the memories we've built here at Ashmere. I realise that that is something I need as well. We are returning to 1994 and it is important that there is someone here, that loves us, that remembers us." Snape slipped his arm around Lyrica and drew her close to his chest. He felt her body shudder with renewed tears and his hand carded gently through her silken strands of hair. He wished his own tears could join hers, but that was something he could not, yet, do. He held Lyrica tightly, not yet ready to forgive, but unwilling to ever let her go. It did not help that very soon he would have no choice but to let her go. A frightened shade from the depths of his mind shouted futilely at him to throw her from his side. To take his children and to run away as far as he could. Inwardly he cursed that cowardly spectre and tightened his arms possessively about Lyrica.