Lyrica awoke late in the night feeling as though a dark shadow were pressing upon her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Staring up at the ceiling, she shivered despite the heat contributed by her husband's sleeping body. She briefly turned on her side facing him, curling her knees up towards her chest and tried closing her eyes. The second layer of darkness descended like funeral linen and Lyrica's eyes shot abruptly open. Feeling suddenly confined, not just to her bed, but the room itself, she slipped as quietly as she could from the bed.

Snape's sleep was deep and free of nightmares this night. He breathed smoothly, his chest rising and falling gently. Standing over him, Lyrica touched his bare shoulder, feeling the smooth, alabaster pale skin beneath her fingertips. He stirred, slightly, and she snatched her hand away before she woke him.

Distracted by his research, Snape had worked very late, only reluctantly going to bed after Dobby began to nag him. He had found Lyrica, sleeping, but she was tossing and turning. For awhile his presence in their bed seemed to soothe her and that is when he finally drifted off to sleep.

This was Lyrica's second week of restlessness and it was beginning to affect her usually calm demeanor. This evening she was to have taken the teenagers through another lesson in Ley Line Magic, but she refused to teach the lesson.

She had tried to read, but found the exuberant voices of the quartet annoying. Once she snapped at Hermione arguing with Ron, and that had been enough. Putting down her book, she had gone to bed early, but only after taking a Calming Potion.

Nothing helped, though, and this was where she was now. Pacing uneasily and feeling trapped. In desperation she summoned her robe, and walked out onto the deck. Usually she loved looking up at the stars as the ocean crashed against the rocks below, but tonight it wasn't enough to dispel her uneasiness. Making her way to the edge of the deck, she used one of the outer staircases to descend to the midnight coloured sand below.

Once she was away from the house a fair distance, Lyrica cast a blue ball of flame to bounce ahead of her and light the way. The lighthouse did not cast any light upon the beach as it was one whose light did not intrude upon the inhabitants living behind it. As it blinked on and off, signaling to both Muggle and Wizarding travelers the dangers of the coast, its bright light remained pointed out to sea.

At the edge of the beach, Lyrica tossed off her slippers and stepped warily onto the black sand which picked up enough of the moonlight to glitter like a reflection of the stars overhead. The grains of the black sand were coarser than the she expected. Severus had explained that the sand was composed of rare, heavy minerals. A layer of silica caused the sparkle that reflected any source of light.

The closer she walked to the water as it splashed over the many rocks lining the beach, the more Lyrica felt able to breathe. Three weeks they had been here at Billeghdonn Cove and she loved it. What she couldn't stand was this feeling that overwhelmed her late at night. It invaded her dreams and when she woke, she either felt like laughing, or crying, or making mad, passionate love to Severus. Her husband certainly didn't mind the last, but the tears definitely made him uncomfortable, especially when it appeared that Lyrica was weeping over nothing at all. She was worried that her erratic behavior was causing an undue strain upon their marriage.

Perhaps that's why he's been in the lab so much, she thought with rising, abrupt bitterness. Severus had been in the lab quite a bit. His work on the Wolfsbane Potion seemed to be all that he could think of. Lyrica had to admit that he'd tried, on several occasions to interest her and to draw her in to assist him, but she had found herself snapping unreasonably at him. There were also some odours of ingredients in the lab that had never bothered her before that now made her nauseous.

Lyrica stopped and took in the cool air as the dark blue water of the sea grazed her bare feet. The water was like ice and it sent a soothing chill up through her body. For just a moment, she felt free of the oppressiveness and able to breathe. An irresponsible part of her wanted to stay put until her body turned to ice, but the last thing she needed was a chill. This small moment of ease would have to suffice.

As she slowly, and sensuously lifted her feet from the wet indentations she'd sunk into, she wondered if she might wake her husband upon her return. She smiled at the thought as she began to walk quickly up the beach. By the time she'd reached the spiky sedge grass at the edge of the beach, Lyrica knew there was something wrong; something much more than a shadowed phantom disturbing her sleep.

As she advanced to where her slippers waited, she felt a constriction in her right foot. As soon as she thought to ignore it, sudden pain bloomed from her foot and up her leg so quickly, she collapsed to her knees, unable to put pressure on the sole of her foot.

"Dobby, help!" she cried out.

The elf was instantly at her side. "Mistress Lyrica! Me take you to Master Snapes." Touching his small hand to her shoulder, the elf apparated directly into the master bedroom.

"Severus!"

"Master Snapes!"

Both Dobby and Lyrica shouted at once, waking the Potions Master from a dead sleep into full wakefulness. He threw off the sheets and ran over to Lyrica who was grasping her right foot in a futile effort to contain the crescendo of pain.

"Dobby, what happened?"

"Mistress injured on beach," said the elf plaintively.

"I was just walking on the beach, Severus. I couldn't... sleep..." she groaned as the pain surged over her hips and upwards towards her abdomen.

Snape quickly lifted his wife and laid her on the bed. "Where did the pain begin, Lyrica?"

"My right foot. It... keeps... rising..."

"Bloody hell!" he muttered softly under his breath. Looking at the sole of her foot, he saw the angry red mark that indicated the problem.

"Goddess, it hurts!" She cursed rather spectacularly in Latin before asking through gritted teeth, "Severus... what is it?"

"You've been bitten by a sand spider. The venom, as you can already tell, causes a great deal of pain. Unfortunately, there is no treatment other than waiting for the venom to run its course. A Calming Potion will help temper any panic, and I do have a tea that helps a little."

"Anything..." she bit her lip as the pain rose higher.

Snape leaned over and kissed her brow. "Dobby, bring Lyrica a Calming Potion. I'll have the tea brewed soon."

Dobby popped out and Snape grabbed his dressing gown and apparated down to the kitchen. Minutes later the Potions Master returned with a pot of tea and a cup filled with black, watery tea. He put down the teapot on the nearby bed table.

"I need you to sit up, love," he spoke quietly.

Lyrica had curled up into a foetal position under the sheets. The Calming Potion had dealt with her panic, which only helped a little to dampen the pain. She struggled to sit up until Snape helped her. He handed her the tea and aided her in wrapping both hands around the warm cup.

Lyrica leaned over the cup and blew across the hot liquid. It didn't smell very pleasant. There was licorice, lemon, and something that smelled like old, sweaty socks. Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

"I know it smells bad and it doesn't taste much better, but it will help just a little bit."

She took a sip of the liquid and almost spit it out. "Oh that is foul!" she grimaced. Lyrica took a much bigger sip which only caused her face to screw up at the rancid taste. "You know, if you ever need to make a point in a detention, Severus, I recommend using this tea. Merlin's Crossed Eyes! This could kill You-Know-Who!"

"Just drink it, Lyrica," he said a little too sharply and immediately regretted his tone. He softened his voice and sat down beside her. "None of the pain potions in existence will take away the pain. The Calming Potion, and this tea, will help you to bear the pain until the venom has run its course. The tea contains a rather strong infusion of Valerian Root..."

"H-h-how long?" she asked interrupting as she leaned against her husband.

Snape slipped his arm over her shoulder and drew her against his side. "It takes, at most, eight hours."

Taking another sip of the horrible tea, Lyrica asked firmly, "Please tell m-m-me about the sand spider."

Just as the tea and the Calming Potion helped her, so did the silken, velvet tones of her husband's voice. He replied, speaking gently into her ear, "It's called the Dunnee Sand Spider. It isn't a true spider, but a tiny, nearly transparent crab that resembles a spider. It prefers the cool of the waters edge. It is indigenous to this part of the world and there are so few people bitten by it every year, that developing an antidote, or a pain reliever has never been a priority."

"I think I'll make it one," she gasped as another wave of pain swept up through her chest and down her arms. "Wh-what if a ch-child gets b-b-bitten?" Curling forward, Lyrica couldn't imagine a child having to bear such pain for eight hours. "Th-th-the venom... is it... is it deadly to anything?"

"Birds, insects, but its preferred food are nearly microscopic fish that gather in tide pools," Lyrica continued to ask questions and Snape answered each of them as he held onto his wife's trembling body.

Dobby kept bringing Calming Potion and once an hour she imbibed the awful tasting tea. After almost three hours, Lyrica let out a sudden and frightened wail. Scrabbling away from Snape, she pushed off the blankets to reveal the thick, liquid warmth she'd felt gushing from inside her; blood. It stained her gown and the bed darkly.

"Severus!" she screamed in a panic. "No! No! No!" Seeing the area of the stain between her hips, Lyrica's mind knew at once what had happened and it terrified her.

Snape stared in horror at the blood and felt his breath catch painfully in his throat. Grasping Lyrica by her shoulders he forced her back against the pillows. His wand was in his hand and over her abdomen, confirming the blood loss, and its source.

"No! No! It can't be, please," she wept.

"Dobby!" The elf popped in properly. "Blood Replenishing Potion and then wake the children and bring them up." The elf was about to pop out, but Snape stopped him. "Make certain the children know they are not to panic or ask questions. This is important. Understand me?"

"Dobby sees and knows, Master Snapes." The elf popped out.

Snape cleaned away the blood as soon as he stopped the flow. Lyrica was getting close to hysterical with her muttered cries so he caught her face in his hands. "Lyrica, listen to me. The baby is fine, but you're not helping by panicking. You need to try and calm..."

"You try to be calm!" she shouted angrily pulling away from Snape. "I hurt and my baby is in danger and I'm supposed to just wait!" Lyrica struck out and before her hand connected with her husband's cheek, he caught both her hands in his.

"Lyrica, stop this! I know it hurts," he hissed. "Now lis..." She tried to yank her hands from his grip and he pulled Lyrica tightly into his arms. With one hand on her chin, he forced her to look at him. "Listen. To. Me. You can keep taking the Calming Potion and the tea, but you need to help the baby by doing everything you can to keep calm. The only way I can help the child..."

Lyrica interrupted, and through her tears, "No, please, don't let our baby die, Severus, please!"

"Hush, Lyrica," he kissed her cheeks and brow. "I believe that if I put the baby into a light sleep, it should be all right." Dobby returned with the Blood Replenishing Potion and immediately left to wake the teenagers. Snape helped her to drink the potion and then gave her another dose of the Calming Potion. "I'm having Dobby send the children up to sit with you."

"Our baby," she gasped as more pain rippled through her body.

"I will make sure our baby is fine. Do your best to remain as calm as possible, my love," he said gently cradling her against his chest.

Draco, Ron, Harry, and Hermione, still in their nightclothes and dressing gowns, rushed into the master bedroom. Dobby had warned them to keep their voices down, and not to ask questions.

"Draco, Harry, sit with your mother. She's suffering pain from a bite that is not treatable. Keep her talking. Hermione, keep that tea warm. The recipe is in the kitchen if you need to brew more. Ron, you're in charge of making sure your aunt has Calming Potion, one phial, every half hour. I have to go to the lab to brew a potion to protect the baby. Send Dobby if there is a problem." With those orders quickly given, Snape kissed his wife and apparated to the lab.

Harry and Draco sat, almost possessively on either side of Lyrica. Draco drew the blanket up over her body as she curled on to her side. Harry conjured a cool cloth and placed it against the back of her neck.

"Mum?" said Harry gently, "Can you tell us what happened?"

Lyrica spoke shakily of her walk on the beach and then of the spider bite. They kept her talking and soothed her with the tea, the Calming Potion, and holding on to her when the pain became too much.

Snape swept into his lab, went over to his potions ingredients cabinet and was thankful to see that he had everything he needed for his potion. He snatched various containers from the shelves and then went out to the ironwood work table. He summoned a small, iron cauldron, a glass stirrer, a copper knife, and began.

She hadn't known she was pregnant.

Snape dropped the glass stirring rod to the floor where it shattered.

He had looked briefly into Lyrica's mind to see if she had decided on her own to stop taking the Contraceptive Potion without consulting him, but she hadn't. The potion had failed. Potions sometimes did fail. As a Potions Master he should have known better and used a Contraceptive Spell on himself as well. It was highly inconvenient for the Potion to fail now.

As he cleared away the broken glass and retrieved a new stirrer, he couldn't hold on to the irritation he wanted to sustain him. He didn't mind that the potion had failed. Quelling the smile that was starting, he concentrated on the very delicate potion he was brewing.

Just as Lyrica was affected by the venom of the Dunnee Sand Spider, so was the baby. The bleeding, although just traumatic bleeding, could very well lead to a miscarriage if he didn't do what he could to protect his child. By putting the baby to sleep, Snape hoped to reduce the trauma for his child and thus keep it alive. However, putting a foetus to sleep was just as dangerous as the pain Lyrica was going through.

The potion itself didn't take long, only an hour and twelve minutes to brew. As he made his way up the stairs- he didn't want to risk any magic disturbing the balance of this particular potion so he didn't apparate- his worry was in treating his unborn child.

Muggles were much more advanced in in-utero infant care than the wizarding world was, and medi-wizardry had only recently begun treating the unborn. He was versed in pre-natal care, and if need be, he could deliver a baby both naturally and magically, if necessary. The field of in-utero obstetrics was a very small one and the number of experts were few. He was hardly an expert and was far too cognizant of the fact that he could very easily be the death of his child if he made one mistake.

When he arrived in the master bedroom, Lyrica was curled on her side, her head cradled in Hermione's lap. Lyrica's sobs tore at his heart, but he had to push aside his own emotions.

Draco saw Snape first and jumped up off the bed and trotted over to him. "Dad," he whispered softly, "I think mum's pain has gotten worse. We were keeping her talking up until a few minutes ago, now she can't stop weeping."

Snape squeezed Draco's shoulder. "If the pain is getting worse, that means the venom is getting clear of her system. Possibly another hour or two." He leaned closer to his son. "There hasn't been any bleeding has there?" Draco's eyes widened and he just shook his head no. "Good."

Snape walked over to the bed and sat down as close to his wife as he could. Harry scooted out of the way, and then off the bed. "Lyrica," he spoke softly. "Lyrica, I know it hurts, but I must have your attention."

She raised her tear-stained face up from Hermione's lap. "S-s-severus... it won't s-s-stop!" she cried out in desperation.

He leaned over and stroked her cheek gently. "I know it hurts, my dear, but that is a good sign. I need you to straighten out for me upon your back."

Lyrica shook her head jerkily. "No... it hurts too much... please..." Her arms were around her belly as though she were trying to contain the pain.

He dropped his voice into that tone he used to discipline his sons, and his students. "You must overcome it, Lyrica. I need to spell this potion into our child. Now straighten out. Hermione, help her if she needs it and keep your aunt's hands off her abdomen."

With great effort, Lyrica turned so that she was now upon her back. It was the hardest thing in the world to straighten out for the pain now seemed centered upon her belly. She could not stop her hands from trying to cover her stomach so Hermione caught them and held them down.

Hermione realised just what Snape was attempting to do. Although she hadn't read much on medi-wizardry practices in obstetrics, she knew they weren't as advanced as Muggle medicine was. "Uncle, are you sure...?"

Snape glared at the inquisitive girl, "Hermione," he said sternly, "This is not the time for questions. Do as I say, or I'll have one of the boys help me."

Hermione coloured slightly and concentrated on her task. She quickly mumbled an apology.

Snape placed a hand upon his wife's belly, gently pressing down. He sent his magic delicately into his wife's womb in order to sense where his unborn child was and how it was positioned. He whispered a diagnostic spell used specifically for expectant mothers and soon detected the foetus. Merlin, it's so very tiny! He moved his hand and pressed down again, eliciting a low wail from his wife.

Drawing on a nearby Ley Line, he used it to sharpen the focus of his ability to sense others magical cores. He would try to sense his son or daughter's magical core first, but if he couldn't, he would then try to sense the heartbeat. As he moved his hand smoothly over his wife's abdomen, he soon felt a tell-tale warmth reaching out to him. It was the tiniest pulse of a developing magical core. In the tiny tendril of magic he sensed a familiarity he couldn't describe, but he knew this tiny life was part of him. It was overwhelming. A whimper from Lyrica reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing, so he re-focused his concentration.

Keeping his hand in place, he addressed the boy nearest him, "Ronald," Ron stepped closer. "Hold this phial of potion just above my hand, I'm going to need my wand for this."

Ron took the phial and held it over Snape's hand. His hand shook a bit. "Hold it still, mate," urged Harry softly.

Snape took out his wand, tapped the phial and then tapped the wand to Lyrica's abdomen. The spell was a silent one and they all watched as the potion became a silvery thread that zipped from the phial into Lyrica's womb. Lyrica took a deep breath as the pain that had concentrated in her belly began to dissipate. Hermione let go of her aunt's hands.

"Will the baby... be f-f-fine?" Lyrica asked.

This was a question Snape did not want to answer. "I have increased the child's chances, my dear, but that is all I can do."

Hermione scooted out from under Lyrica as the older witch began to cry again. She touched her uncle's shoulder, "Send Dobby if you need us, Uncle," she said quietly and then ushered the boys out of the bedroom.

"I shall. Thank you." Snape then moved to draw Lyrica into his arms. He hoped that he'd saved their child. This was one of those unfortunate situations where only time would tell.

Severus Snape woke up to a sliver of sunlight that found its way through the drapes over one set of French doors. He yawned and stretched very carefully. Lyrica lay partially curled on her side, her head pillowed on his upper thigh. His arm had been draped over her shoulder protectively. He looked down at her as she slept, finally, and deeply.

Lyrica's hair was streaked with dried sweat and her face and skin were without colour. Her night of pain showed upon her features even though she was now free of that pain.

"Accio wand," he spoke quietly. His wand leapt into his hand and he incanted a diagnostic spell. He sighed with relief as all sign of the spider venom was gone and except for exhaustion and mild dehydration, Lyrica was well.

Snape then hovered his wand over Lyrica's belly and began the slightly more complicated diagnostic for a foetus. He held his breath as the runic symbols that detailed his child's status appeared in the air. The soporific he had brewed was gone from the baby's system and he allowed himself a small smile as the diagnostic showed him that his child was fine.

Casting a minor levitation spell on his wife, Snape was able to shift himself so that he was no longer sitting up. Now lying down, he brought Lyrica down beside him, her head now nestled upon his shoulder. He placed his wand on the bedside table, yawned once more, then closed his eyes and drifted back into sleep.

Harry stared into his bowl of oatmeal and wondered why Dobby's oatmeal never had lumps in it. He wanted a lump just so he'd have something to get angry at.

I'm being stupid.

Yeah, you are stupid, you big dummy.

Shut up.

You shut up!

No, you shut up!

Harry shoved a spoonful of the oatmeal into his mouth. He really hated internal dialogues. They never helped with anything.

"Hey, mate, wanna go flying?"

Harry looked over at Ron stupidly. As soon as he realised that Ron had asked him a question, he did his best to wipe his stupid look from his face. "Nah... I don't feel like flying. I'm kind of tired."

"What are you worried about, Harry?" Hermione asked. She'd been watching Harry since they sat down to breakfast and could see that he was struggling with one of those internal dialogues of his that only seemed to make his worries worse.

"What?" Harry dropped his spoon into his oatmeal, splattering some it onto the table. "I'm not worried. I mean, yeah, I am about mum, but we all are, aren't we?"

"Dobby told us they're fine, Harry, so why are you sitting there as though that oatmeal is your worst enemy?" He didn't answer with anything more than a darker glower. "Harry, please talk to us. You know you'll feel..."

"I don't know what you're on about, Hermione," he scowled and slapped his spoon into the thick oatmeal. "As for the oatmeal, it tastes terrible!" Harry pushed away from the table and stomped out of the dining room.

"Why do you push him like that, My?" Draco accused. He actually thought he might have an idea of what was really bothering his brother, but for just this moment, he was annoyed by Hermione's need to interfere.

"I wasn't pushing him, Draco. Can't you tell he's worried about something?" she glared at the blonde.

"Yeah, I can, but you always seem to think he needs to talk about everything. Can't you give him just a little while to try and sort things out on his own?"

Hermione's jaw dropped as she stared even harder at Draco. "Harry doesn't sort things out, Draco. He worries himself until he goes off and does something stupid! You'd know that if you cared about him!"

Draco slammed a fist on the table. "Just because I've been hexing him since first year doesn't mean I don't care, My! He's my brother and I do care about him, but you're always watching Harry like he's some piece of china that's going to break if you can't help him sort out his problems."

"Because he will break!" she shouted across the table.

"No! He won't!"

"Yes...!"

"No, 'Mione," interrupted Ron. "Harry won't break." Hermione glared suddenly at Ron, surprised that he wasn't backing her up. "Look, 'Mione, Harry knows we're here for him, but there are some things he has to learn to sort out for himself. If he can't, then he'll ask us. This isn't like we're first years and had to practically beat it out of him that there was a problem."

Hermione crossed her arms stubbornly. "I'm just worried about him. He's been brooding ever since... you know."

"Since what?" asked Ron taking a large bite of pastry.

Draco gave Ron a look of exasperation. "Harry's been upset since dad said mum's pregnant, you dolt."

"So? If he's worried about the baby, Dobby said it's fine."

"You really are an idiot, Weasel," growled Draco.

"What?" he tossed the remainder of the pastry to his plate. He saw the knowing looks that passed between Hermione and Draco and this made him even angrier. "I don't get it!"

Hermione sighed indulgently as she explained, "Harry's feeling threatened by the baby, Ron."

Ron gaped. "He's what? Threatened? Oh now that's just mental, that is."

"It's quite understandable," said Hermione knowledgeably. She then glanced at Draco. "It's probably why the two of you keep getting into fights."

"What? We don't get into fights!" Draco protested.

Ron snorted. "Two fights before end of term, that fight in the forest, and what... five or six since we got here, 'Mione?"

"Don't exaggerate, Ron." She began to peel an orange. "It's been one wrestling match and a couple of verbal matches."

Draco scowled and took the orange from Hermione. "What are you talking about, My? What do mine and Harry's fights have to do with mum having a baby?"

"Harry's acting out. He's asserting his right to be in this family." Hermione glanced at Ron and then Draco. By their puzzled looks she realised they had no idea what she was talking about. "Harry was orphaned and then placed with people who had little regard for him. The Dursleys certainly didn't consider him part of their family. Uncle Severus made Harry his son, but it's been such a short time, that he's still insecure about whether or not he's a legitimate part of the family. When you were adopted, Draco, as much as he cares about you, and likes having a brother, he still views you as a rival. He provokes arguments with you in order to test your mum and dad."

"I told you," said Ron leaning back in his chair. "Mental."

Draco finished peeling the orange and handed Hermione a slice. "So, Harry's afraid that mum and dad will send him back to the Dursleys?" Hermione nodded as she ate the slice of orange.

"Mental," muttered Ron.

"Will you stop saying that, Weasel?" Draco suddenly snapped. "Harry's not mental!"

Ron sneered, "He thinks a baby is going to send him back to the Dursleys, Draco."

Hermione huffed with annoyance. "Honestly, Ron, for someone who can be so intelligent, you can be so obtuse at times. Harry doesn't have anything against the baby. He has a valid insecurity about himself being a part of this family."

"So?" Ron blurted. "Then Sev can just tell Harry it's nonsense. They aren't going to un-adopt him." He pushed away from the dining table. "Why do you always have to blow things out of proportion?" Shaking his head he stalked out of the dining room in search of Harry.

"He does have a point," muttered Draco and immediately wished he hadn't said that aloud.

Hermione slapped the palms of her hands upon the table, glared darkly at Draco, and then she stormed out. Draco dropped his forehead onto the table.

A small popping sound announced the arrival of Dobby. The small elf patted Draco's shoulder. "Is Master Draco not feeling well?"

"I wish." Lifting his head he looked down at Dobby. "Dobby, are there roses in the garden?"

Dobby smiled. "All kinds, Master Draco. Want me to get some for yous?"

Draco shook his head. "Nope, I better do this myself." He stood up. "I know, maybe you could find some crystallised honeycomb for me?"

Dobby was happy to please the boy and his head bobbled enthusiastically. "I find Master Draco best kind."

"Thanks, Dobby." Draco watched as the little elf popped away and then he left the dining room to head outside to the garden. He had an apology to make.

Harry had taken his Cosmos X and flew up and down the beach until he'd worn himself out. He ended by flying out to the lighthouse where he perched upon its roof. He knew he was being an idiot which was why he had to leave the dining room. Hermione, the know-it-all with all the answers had no doubt analysed him and dissected him thoroughly for Ron and Draco. He dropped his head onto his knees.

"I ought to be happy for mum and dad," he told himself aloud. Deep down he knew he was, but with the nightmares he'd been having, he was confused. They weren't of Voldemort, thankfully. Kalima had helped a great deal in keeping that monster out of his head. But, he had been dreaming of the Dursleys. He didn't know why. He was happy. Really happy. Wasn't he? Shouldn't he be?

Just as he lifted his head from his knees he saw a redheaded dot flying swiftly towards him. He kept an eye on the dot that resolved into Ron until the boy landed breathlessly upon the tin covered roof and settled himself close beside his best friend.

"You do know you're mental, right?" asked Ron seriously.

"Seems so," agreed Harry. A sea bird suddenly dropped down out of the sky to stand on the roof's edge. It looked expectantly at them. "Go away." The bird squawked angrily and then flew off. "I suppose Hermione explained everything."

"When doesn't she?" Ron smirked and nudged Harry's upper arm with his elbow.

"I'm not jealous about the baby, Ron," asserted Harry.

"Course you're not, mate, but how come you think you're going back to the Dursleys?"

Harry gawped at his best friend. How did he know that? "I don't think that!"

"Maybe not, but I know you've been having nightmares about that lard-butt Vernon, again." Harry only stared incredulously at Ron. "My bedroom is next to yours, Harry. You ought to talk to Uncle Sev."

"He'll think I'm nuts." The black haired boy jammed his chin onto his knees and glared out over the roiling sea.

"He's your dad, Harry. I mean, he's not the greasy git anymore. That's still weird sometimes, you know? I mean, he's still not something to be crossed in class, but, well..." Ron drummed his heel against the tin roof for a minute and then looked sideways at the lost looking teenager. "Harry, you do know you're supposed to be able to talk to your parents when you're worried, don't you?"

"Huh? What are you on about, mate?"

"Well, I mean, since you've been adopted, have you ever talked to your parents?"

"Of course. We talk all the time."

Ron banged his heel in frustration against the roof. "That's not what I mean, Harry. Sev and Lyrica are your parents now. They aren't there just to make sure you do your homework or to give you your own room. If something bothers you, since you have parents that means you can talk to them now. Remember you told me once that one of the toughest things for you when you lived with the Dursleys was that you couldn't ask them questions? That you had to deal with it all by yourself?"

Harry nodded. That had been one of the hardest things he'd ever admitted to Ron.

"Well, that's what parents are for. Even if you think something is stupid, or embarrassing, parents that love you aren't going to make fun of you."

Harry let out a deep breath. "I know, Ron. I just get... uhm... scared, you know?" His gaze was locked out to sea. He was afraid of looking at his friend in case Ron might look at him like he really was crazy.

"Sev's not going to send you back to the Dursleys, Harry." Ron grinned and punched Harry's shoulder. "He's your dad, mate."

Harry grinned and felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. He knew he had to talk to his parents- he had parents!- and that would be tough, but he thought he could do it now.

Ron stood up. "C'mon. Race ya to the waterfall, okay?"

Harry jumped to his feet. "Why don't you use my broom, Ron?" Harry held out the Cosmos X to him.

Ron smiled and took the proffered broom. He handed over the old Nimbus 2000 to Harry. The boys mounted the brooms and both launched themselves from the roof of the lighthouse in a burst of speed.

It felt like weeks had passed. Weeks spent in the most blissful, dreamless slumbers ever. In reality, only the morning had passed. Lyrica woke just as the final minutes of the afternoon crawled across the sky. She moved gently from Severus' side and with slightly shaky legs, made her way to the loo. A passing glance at herself in the mirror showed a woman that looked like she'd fallen from her broom. Quickly removing her nightgown and dropping it to the floor, she turned the shower water on and stepped under its stinging heat.

Once Lyrica had washed her hair and body, she gingerly touched her abdomen. She carefully sent her magic inward, searching for her child. The lightest, silvery tendril of developing magic timidly touched hers and she smiled. Very carefully she sent her love towards the tiny tendril until she enveloped the very small life that grew within her.

"Hello, little one," she whispered.

Later Lyrica emerged from the loo, dressed and clean. She sat down upon the bed beside her husband and kissed his brow. Severus stirred slightly until his eyes slowly opened.

"You look like you're feeling much better," he said softly as he laced his fingers through hers.

"We're both feeling much better, my love." Lyrica's smile diminished briefly. "Severus, you're not angry, are you?"

Snape raised himself on his elbows and frowned. "Of course not! Lyrica, how could you think that?"

She heard the undertone of hurt in his voice and leaned over to kiss him. "Forgive me, love, but I know that we agreed..."

"That we did, but it seems Fate decided otherwise." He sat up, and then smirked. "At least it is as I decreed; a daughter instead of another son."

"You're horrid, Severus!" Lyrica laughed. "Get showered and dressed. I'll ask Dobby to bring us something to eat and then I think we ought to find out what the children are up to."

Snape drew himself out of bed and to his feet. He was about to head for the shower, when he stopped, turned back to Lyrica, cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her deeply. "I love you, my wife."