The next morning it was raining outside as Lucius pored over the book he had written to Draco about that morning. One of the many house elfs still bonded to the Malfoy family found the book and had delivered it directly to Lucius who received it late that afternoon. It was an album he had made during his years at Hogwarts and a little bit beyond. Most of the moving photos were of his Slytherin contemporaries; many of whom had become Death Eaters and were dead. It was a grim reminder of the childhood he barely had time to experience before it was lost in his father's disastrous bid for political power.

Lucius had not been willing to become a servant of the Dark Lord. It rankled him as to how his father could willingly bow down to such a creature, when he'd been taught that Malfoys were never subservient.

He'd wanted so much to escape, if just for a little while, his father's influence at Hogwarts. When he'd been Sorted in his first year, the filthy Sorting Hat had hesitated. For a brief moment, he hoped to be placed in Ravenclaw, but his father's threat, as he'd been left at 9 3/4 platform at King's Cross, had not been an idle one. If Lucius did not get into Slytherin, he'd be taken from Hogwarts and shipped off to Durmstrang.

In his seventh year he had met the scruffy, dark-haired boy that would one day become Severus Snape, duplicitous spy. And lifelong friend, reminded his thoughts.

He had noticed the potential for greater power than the jumped up madman, Voldemort, but on the surface he saw a small eleven year old that had already lived more years than any child should. Everything in his upbringing told him to shun the firstie just like most in their House had. Defying all that he'd been taught, Lucius listened to his oft ignored intuition and had befriended the young boy.

And had been soundly hexed for his magnanimous efforts!

Lucius chuckled as his memories pulled him to that first meeting.

It was early on a Saturday and Lucius had fortunately evaded spending the day with his fiance', Narcissa, when her older sister came to take her for the weekend to Paris. Oh, the Ice Queen had politely asked him to go, but arms loaded down with books, he used his excuse of needing to study for NEWTs to allow him to slip away from what would turn into her needling nag.

Once Narcissa was gone, Lucius got rid of the books, grabbed his broom, with the intention of getting some flying in. Going through the complex corridors of the dungeons from Slytherin House to the first floor of the castle, Lucius heard the commotion first.

"Awww is ickle wittle Snivellus gonna cr... ow! Bastard!" Lucius recognized the voice of Bellatrix Lestrange's traitor cousin, Sirius Black.

Slowing his pace and removing his wand from his sleeve, the Slytherin Prefect crept up the corridor and peered around the corner. He sneered in silent anger as he saw that two Gryffindors, the arrogant James Potter, and of course, Black, had the small Slytherin cornered.

Later, Lucius would recall that he'd been a bit too impulsive in not observing the three boys a bit more. He had underestimated the scruffy, dark-haired Slytherin. Intending to rescue Snape, Lucius dove into the fray prepared to stun the two Gryffindor bullies. To his surprise he was caught with a Jelly Legs Hex so powerful he was knocked completely off his feet.

"Snape!" roared Lucius.

All three boys froze in place for a brief second, and then Sirius tugged James' robes and they were running back to their tower.

Severus quickly ended the hex on his Prefect and bowed his head slightly in apology. Lucius, still working on getting back up to a more dignified position, caught the quick, defiant and angry look on the child's face.

"Straighten up, Snape, and look at me," he spoke firmly, but didn't snap the order.

Severus uncoiled his perpetual hunch and then dropped his dark gaze on the older wizard. "That was a considerable Jelly Legs you cast, Snape. Most firsties, if they can cast the hex, only manage to wobble the legs a bit. Where did that force come from?"

Severus shrugged and was tempted to drop his chin, but he didn't.

"I do hate it when a question is answered with such a gauche gesture, Snape. You're a Slytherin. Speak up." Crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at the little boy he watched as the boy let out a frustrated huff.

"I know a lot of spells, sir," Severus replied quietly.

"So it appears, but that wasn't exactly my question, boy. The force in your spell is something I'd expect from a fourth year. I refuse to believe you've had that much instruction that you have... such control."

For a long moment it seemed that the child would not answer, but Lucius expected an answer and appeared ready to wait until the spiders took over Hogwarts in order to get one. Finally he spoke, resignedly, "My mother's a powerful witch. She says I inherited her magic."

That last statement held restrained bitterness. Then and there Lucius resolved to delve into the child's past and find out what made him so angry beyond bullying Gryffindors.

Relaxing his posture, he slipped his wand away and observed as the boy proceeded to tuck his into his back pocket.

"Tut! That's not the way to properly hold a wand, Snape. Haven't you a wrist holster?"

Severus began to shake his head, but caught the slight warning from his Prefect. "No, sir. We couldn't afford one."

"Come with me, Snape. I've an extra wrist holster we can fit you with and then, I'm going to show you some hexes those two shites won't expect the next time they try to corner you." He smiled at the younger boy who finally lost the scowl and gave him an understated, shy smile in return.

Lucius had enjoyed mentoring the bright, skilled young wizard, but a sharp stab of guilt hit him, hard, as he also recalled that it had been him that had talked the teenager into meeting Voldemort.

Shaking off that memory, he returned to the photographs as he tried to recall the faces of all that he could.

Despite the shade that was Voldemort, there were pleasant memories for Lucius during his student years at Hogwarts. He had boyhood crushes (always remembering that none of them would come to naught as his father had promised him to one of the Black sisters). He wouldn't learn until Bellatrix Lestrange's Bonding was announced in his fifth year that he'd be married to Narcissa, the Ice Queen.

There had been Quidditch and pranks (mostly on obnoxious Gryffindors) and the feasts at Hogwarts were always better than the stodgy balls his parents threw in order to show off their status amongst Pureblood society.

Lucius was flipping through the many pages of wizard animated photos, childish penmanship, and teenage scrawls, to see if he might discover who the young lady at Ollivander's was. That she was the wandmaker's daughter, he had no doubt. It had long been rumored that one of the reasons Olivander himself had memories of even Albus Dumbledore as an eleven year old firstie was that the old wandmaker had a strong line of Highborn Elf or Fae running through his bloodline. Ollivander surely had a few more centuries on him than did Dumbledore.

For the life of him, Lucius had yet to recall any such lovely with Fae features or characteristics. Neither could he recall any wind of a rumour that suggested Ollivander had a child, or much less married. Lucius grimaced at that thought. Ollivander was truly a talented wizard, but he was a repulsive looking thing, like a cross between a spider and a skeleton, with habits that were often just plain ghastly. Thankfully, Lucius rarely encountered the irascible wizard in public.

Shaking his head, he didn't know whether to blame the spell that had locked away his memories, or if he was just old and beginning to lose his marbles. His face contorted at that. He wouldn't be considered old by wizard standards until he reached his 70th birthday.

Gently he closed the book, and then his eyes, trying to dredge up some memory of those far gone days. Something, anything, that would give him a clue...

And he had fallen asleep.

Lucius woke only about twenty minutes later when the combined stare of two pairs of eyes stole into his dreamless sleep. Upon opening his eyes, Sophie squealed and clapped her hands.

"I told you! I told you we could wake papa by just looking at him!"

Tabitha appeared shy and uncomfortable with the harmless prank.

Lucius rose up, quickly caught his child around the waist and began tickling her. "How do you know I was asleep, Little Trickster?"

Sophie was caught by the giggles as she squirmed in a bid to escape. In between her bouts of laughter, she huffed out, "You were snoring, papa!"

He put down Sophie who ran to hide behind a chair. Lucius didn't see the wary look on Tabitha's face as he lunged for his daughter. "I don't snore!" As Sophie dodged his grasp, he let out a roar that sent Tabitha dashing for a corner of the library.

The frightened girl ducked down tightly and whimpered. Lucius shushed Sophie who, with great concern, remained closely behind her father.

Slowly, but without creeping, Lucius went around the bookcase to where they young girl cowered. "Tabitha?" She didn't answer. "It's perfectly all right."

"You t-t-tried to attack S-s-sophie," she bleated.

"It was a game, child."

"Yeah, just a game, Tabby," Sophie whimpered sympathetically. Her own eyes glistened with unshed tears as she witnessed her friend's anguish. Lucius knelt down and tried to ignore the cracking of his bad knee. "I would never hurt Sophie. Or you. Or Harry" He held out his hand to the girl. "Come along. We'll find a nice, quiet boardgame to play."

For a long minute, Tabitha remained frozen where she was. Sophie dipped under her father's arm and reached for the frightened girl's hand. Tabitha, then, very cautiously, stretched out her other hand, met Lucius's and grasped it.

He rose, a bit awkwardly, but kept his footing and gently pulled Tabitha to her feet. "Have you ever played Squire Poppington's Quest?" he asked as Sophie clung to his other hand.

Tabitha shook her head. "I never got to play anything."

"Well, let's remedy that, shall we?" Taking out his wand, he Summoned the board game and was quietly pleased that it arrived promptly and in one piece. He had tried Summoning the salt last night at dinner and had been mortified when the container had stayed put, but the salt came for him, drenching him. Sophie had asked him to 'do it again'.

An hour later, Severus, his hair still damp, and with a disgruntled expression on his face, strode into the library and disappeared, without a word, into the blessed silence of the stacks. Not far behind was a rather contrite looking little boy who was trying to rub at his bum without looking like he was rubbing said bum.

Sophie jumped up from the boardgame. "Hi, Harry! Want to play? It's Squire Poppington's Quest." The little girl had grasped one of her hands, and he shook her off, but not sharply.

"Nah. I gotta write lines," he mumbled.

"How come you got lines, Harry?" Sophie asked as she followed him sympathetically over to one of the desks in the library.

"I don't want to talk about it, so go away," that was a little more snappish and Sophie wandered away, her lower lip pouting in hurt.

"You needn't be rude," snapped Harry's father's voice as though he'd just Apparated behind him. "Apologise. Then sit down and get started."

"Yes, dad." Sophie watched her friend hopefully. Harry realised that he really had hurt the little girl and it made his stomach feel a bit sick. "I'm really sorry, Sophie."

With a sudden bright smile, she hugged Harry, and then ran back to the game. Severus' son smiled, until he saw his father pointing at the wooden, hard looking chair. Touching his hand to his bottom, which was really no longer stinging, he let out an aggrieved sigh.

"Sit. Down." Severus' tone was implacable. Harry sat, or plopped rather, and regretted it. He slid down into the chair, but was rapidly yanked up by his underarms by his father and placed properly in the chair. "Don't slouch. You have an hour."

Severus turned sharply on his heel and disappeared back into the musty shadows of his books. Harry dipped his quill into the ink, and began to copy the line that appeared at the top of his parchment.

Lucius, quite curious now, rose from his chair, excused himself, and then wandered just close enough to Harry to see his parchment, but not disturb him. Slightly over the boy's shoulders he could read the neat print. He suppressed a chuckle and then vanished into the stacks to find Severus.

The Potions Master wasn't long in being discovered. He leaned against one of the floor length, stain glass windows that lent colour to his still usual black countenance. Dotted with soft shades of blue, green, yellow, orange, red, Severus balanced one heavy book in his hand and thumbed studiously through the pages. Lucius could tell his friend hadn't read a single word.

Lucius leaned up against the shelf of books, arms loosely crossed over his chest. Severus glanced at the pose that had once been so typical of Malfoy arrogance. With his worn, Muggle jeans, loose, white cotton shirt beneath a deep blue, worn jeans vest, he no longer looked arrogant, just amused.

"What?" drawled Severus as he pointedly tucked his nose back into the book.

Lucius quoted, "I am to obey my elders as they know better and I am not allowed to throw contentious tantrums in front of Miss Molly, or anyone else." The older man let out a single chuckle. "I doubt your son knows what 'contentious' means."

"He can look it up!" Severus snapped the book shut and placed it on the windowsill. Rubbing his hand over his face he sighed heavily.

"What did the boy do, Severus?"

"He turned into a rotten, little troll," glowered Severus.

Lucius gave a small snicker, "They all do, Severus. That is the charm of children." He shifted slightly. "I considered renaming Draco 'goblin' at one point when he was five. He truly tested my short temper at times." Lucius was momentarily lost in the memory about his son, before he pressed, "Well? What did your charming troll do?"

"Molly keeps all the brooms that her family uses for their get-togethers in a small storage shed attached to the Burrow. The magical lock requires a password that Harry and his co-horts, Jared, Mouse, and Hamish, were certain they could guess. Then, they could play a game of Quidditch during lunch."

Severus paused in his explanation and Lucius used the quiet moment to ask, "Doesn't Molly have someone to help her in watching those wily children?"

"Monitoring spells, but I've strongly suggested that she needs someone to help keep an eye on her students at all times. I'm getting a bit weary of hearing the mischief they all manage to get up to when Molly isn't looking." Severus smirked darkly. "Most of those stories come from Harry, unfortunately."

Lucius nodded, and then encouraged, "So, did they succeed?"

"No," Severus replied shortly. "Molly caught them in the attempt. Jared, Mouse, and Harry all received time in the corner, but Harry decided to pitch a fit over the fact that he felt it wasn't his fault at all. When I arrived, he was still in the corner and while Molly was doing her best to explain what had happened Harry continually interrupted in an attempt to inform me that Molly was wrong, and so, apparently, was everyone else. That's when I decided that a spanking would calm him down."

Severus let out a frustrated sigh. "Harry's usually a good boy, but I partially blame his friends for encouraging him. After I'd spanked him he told me that he had intended to leave the broom cupboard alone, but it was Hamish, and Jared, that kept at him until he felt he had to try his hand at breaking the locking ward or risk losing their friendship. Mouse only went along as 'support'."

Lucius nodded knowingly. Both men knew and understood the annoyance of peer pressure. In their case, such peer pressure could, and did, have dangerous results. "And the tantrum?"

"It seems he was angrier that Jared only had a few minutes in the corner, and the instigator, Hamish, got off scot free." Severus drummed his fingers on the book he'd put down.

"The tantrum was certainly useless, but I have to agree that it's hardly fair for Hamish to have gotten away without punishment." Lucius sighed and pushed himself upright. "Ah well. Life is not always fair."

Severus watched Lucius walk back to the two girls before picking up his book. His frustration had passed so now he thought he might be able to read.

---

Lockhart Manor was ill-named. At one time it might have been touted as one of the grand manors in Pureblood society, but a dwindling in the family fortune was reflected in the neglected yard, and the large house itself that was in sore need of repairs. Obviously, neither Lord nor Lady Lockhart was skilled enough in repair spells, or they hadn't the money to hire someone with the skill to fix things.

For Dobby, the long neglected yard and gardens only showed a great sense of laziness, perhaps on the part of the house elf. House Elfs were natural gardeners and a home with a house elf nearly always had a well tended garden.

Casting a Not See Me charm, one of the subtle magics that house elfs used to keep their appearance in a household nearly invisible, he popped silently into the ramshackle manor and through its nearly useless wards.

The interior of the manor showed the same neglect as the outside and made Dobby long for the bright, inviting interior of Fairwinds. Not even the deepest dungeons of Hogwarts felt as cold and as dead as Lockhart Manor.

He passed by many disused rooms, including a once magnificent library so filled with dust and cobwebs, Dobby was beginning to wonder if the Lord and Lady of the manor even existed. Finally he came upon a parlor that was overly gilded and far too warm for the approaching summer. Cleaning of the room looked half-hearted at best. The only two occupants were a man and a woman whose looks had seen better days. Both were pale from lack of sunshine and healthy air. They were dressed in clothing that was even out of style for wizards and appeared to come from a museum. The clothes showed subtle signs of wear, and dirt, that only a house elf would see.

The lady wasn't very tall, and perhaps in her day, her petite frame might have attracted many a Pureblooded wizard's eye. Weight had plumped her body into such a manner that she rather looked to be a parody of a living rag doll. Her dark hair was in a tight bun that only served to cause her expression to be frozen in severity. She was seated in the window seat, staring blankly out the window and over the neglected, overgrown yard.

The lord stretched out a portly body whose weight strained all the buttons on his coat and pants. His shoes had been casually tossed off to the floor revealing socks with tears and holes. His head was thrown back as he snored, loudly.

Dobby stared at Lord and Lady Lockhart and felt pity for them. The couple, which could hardly have been in their 40s, resembled forgotten, badly made, porcelain statues. They barely moved. To Dobby, he felt as though they were merely waiting for Death. Leaving the couple behind, he headed for the kitchen.

Dobby nearly gave himself away with a shocked and disgusted squeak as he saw the kitchen. At the very last second, he clamped his mouth shut and for good measure he slapped both hands over his mouth. His pale green eyes goggled at the horrible, dingy mess that was called a kitchen.

Dirty pans and dishes spread from the grimy sink and across the counters. Flies buzzed lazily over the remains on the plates. Garbage spilled from a container near a door that led outside and poor Dobby had to cast a Bubble Charm over his head. The smell was as disagreeable as the sight.

The floor, walls, and ceiling were stained by soot, grease, and old food stains. Next to the old, large iron stove was a pallet and a blanket that were so filthy, they made Dobby's skin itch. However, the sight that truly had his stomach rebelling was an iron cage next to the palette. At the bottom of the cage there was a stuffed doll propped floppily against the bars.

Dobby became so angry at the sight of the cage that tendrils of steam were curling from his ears. His eyes narrowed sharply as his gaze finally settled upon the only house elf in the manor - Gipple.

Gipple was a sorry excuse for a house elf. One eye was white with blindness and his teeth were so crooked that one protruded from his lower jaw giving him a mad-demented visage. The house elf was as dirty as his kitchen was and he muttered spiteful phrases about his master and mistress as he slammed pots and pans on the glowing stove.

Dobby had nearly seen all that he could take of this wretched manor and was about to reveal himself in order to punish Gipple severely when the house elf actually spat into the stew he was cooking!

The Not See Me Charm sloughed away as Dobby advanced upon the Lockhart house elf. A sharp wave of his arm had Gipple emitting a shriek of terror as he froze in place. Dobby then forced the elf to face him and he stared into Gipple's one good eye.

It was a secret of house elfs that they were natural Legilimens. However, such magic could only be used upon another elf and that is what Dobby did. He could have eased painlessly into Gipple's mind, but he was so angry and disgusted by the foul creature that he tore into the elf's mind. Gipple screeched again until Dobby silenced the elf from within Gipple's own mind.

After several long minutes, Dobby released Gipple's mind. Recoiling from the truly vicious house elf he gulped the stale stench of the kitchen into his lungs. When he had almost recovered, he stood straight and faced the still frozen Gipple. Gipple would have been quaking with terror if he could, but he could only watch with one terrified eye as Dobby raised his hand and pointed a slim finger at him.

"No mercy," Dobby whispered.

---

That evening at Fairwinds a quiet evening after dinner was being enjoyed by the Snapes, the Malfoys, and their quiet guest, Tabitha. Sophie and Tabitha were playing Squire Poppington's Quest while Harry worked on the last of his lines from that afternoon. Echo was knitting a pair of multi-coloured booties that Dumbledore would have loved, while Lucius and Severus sat near an open window reading.

A loud crack startled everyone. Harry's quill scratched across four rows of lines. Sophie squealed and wrapped her arms around Tabitha who was as scared as she was. Echo dropped several stitches while Lucius dropped his book. Severus, forgetting about the children, swore.

"Severus!" admonished Echo.

He was about to make his apology when a very weary Dobby toddled into the parlor. "Master Sir, please to come to kitchen?"

"Of course, Dobby," he rose to his feet.

Dobby, his shoulders slumped, turned without acknowledging Severus' reply, and left the parlor.

"Severus?" asked Echo with worry in her voice. "He's back early." She started to get up, but he motioned for his wife to stay put.

"I'd better find out what happened first, my dear," he said softly, glancing at the children. Harry had gone over to comfort the two girls. He lowered his voice further. "I'm afraid it isn't good." With that, he turned and left the parlor to join Dobby in the kitchen.

The wizard found the house elf smiling beatifically at the pristine kitchen. He stood in the center, as if basking in its clean walls, counters, and orderliness. Severus frowned at this odd change in behavior.

"Dobby, what happened?"

Dobby spun, and then his throat hitched as a large tear dropped from one eye. "Oh Master Sir! Such evil! Missy Tabitha's Lord and Lady... they was broken as Lockhart Manor. Dobby felt misery pity for them. Dobby believes Lord and Lady lost in dreams that were never real."

"I don't hold pity for such a pair that did what they did to their only child," Severus said darkly as his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"Oh! Master Sir! I is not pitying them for being so poorly! They are bad, very bad, but Gipple was evil." Dobby sneered so darkly that Severus took an involuntary step backwards. "Elfs have souls, Master Sir. We is knowing our souls as treasures and elfs protect families and homes like they are our souls. Gipple was having no soul! Gipple hurt child," Dobby's voice was thin with anger. "Kept little girl like animal in cage. Gipple hate child, hate family, hate! Hate! Hate!"

For a moment he thought Dobby was about to hit himself, but the aggrieved elf lifted his green eyes to Severus and for the first time ever he saw pain in the little elf's eyes. "Dobby had no choice, Master Sir. It is Elf Law. Gipple beyond bad. Gipple a wrong thing and Dobby was the only one to judge. I is sorry, Master Sir!"

Severus drew a kitchen table chair over so he could be more on an eye level with the elf. Doing his best to keep the fear of what the elf might have done out of his voice, he asked, "What did you do to Gipple, Dobby?"

Tears began to fall from the elf's big eyes as he wrung his hands, begging, "Please, Master Sir, please to understand Dobby must do what is Elf Law, but Dobby never wanted to be judge, but it was right. I is sorry, Master Sir, but... please? Forgive?"

Severus clutched inwardly at the chill that pierced his heart. In that moment of his house elf pleading for forgiveness, he was once again reminded of how little the wizarding world knew about the house elfs and their power.

He leaned over and whispered, "Dobby, did you kill Gipple?"

A sob tore from Dobby and for a moment he dropped his face in his hands. "Is not killing, Master Sir," his voice trembled. "Is Judgment. Was right. Was Law, but, is so hurting Dobby's soul." Dobby stretched out his hands, and did what no house elf ever did without permission; he laid his own hands upon Severus'. "Please, Master Sir. Dobby knows I is free elf and if Master Sir hates Dobby and no more has trust in him, Dobby goes tonight. But, Dobby begs, Master Sir, understand? Dobby had no choice."

A part of Severus was appalled at what Dobby had done, but he, perhaps more than any wizard understood why the elf had to do what he did. The house elfs had their own law and what Gipple had done to a child was clearly so unforgivable it merited death. He turned his hands and gripped Dobby's firmly so the house elf might not run away if he was so inclined.

"Dobby, I do understand what you had to do, and you have my trust, fully and unconditionally. You have my forgiveness." Severus spoke solemnly.

Dobby let out a choked, relieved sob and Severus conjured a handkerchief for the elf. Dobby dabbed at his eyes, smeared at his nose, and then vanished the dirty cloth.

"Dobby is knowing that Master Sir needs information to protect Missy Tabitha. I is promising to talk in morning, but Dobby is so tired now." He sighed heavily.

"That will be soon enough, Dobby. You've done well, so go on to bed."

A small smile graced Dobby's face as he nodded firmly. "Dobby is forever grateful to kind Master Sir."

Severus let go of the elf and gave him a solemn smile. He then inquired, "Dobby, if you need any Dreamless Sleep, you will let me know?"

The house elf smiled gratefully, and then popped out of the kitchen silently.

---

Dobby did not sleep as well as he wished, but he refused to wake his Master Sir for a sleeping potion. Leaving his bed and putting on the red and gold dressing gown with matching hat and slippers that Minerva McGonagall had made for him that Christmas, he quietly slipped from his bedroom and down the hallway to the childrens rooms.

First he looked in upon Harry who was crowded by the addition of Hector, his large golden retriever, stretched along the little boy's length. A small smile graced the boy's face and Dobby smiled as well. He was very happy that Friend Harry was no longer plagued by the sadness and nightmares that he'd suffered from before de-aging himself.

Closing the door without even a snick of the latch, Dobby next went to Sophie's bedroom and glanced in upon her. She was nestled in her pretty covers, wrapped around a soft toy. Sophie had lots of toys to sleep with and liked to sleep with a different one each night so none of them would get jealous. With a quiet snicker, Dobby closed that door and went across the hall to Tabitha's room.

Tabitha stirred uneasily in her sleep, her nightmares keeping her cries unheard by the others in the house. Dobby went to her side and gently began to sing an old, elf lullabye. The simple song soon quieted the child, but Dobby knew it would not end her dreams. He hoped that Tabitha would soon trust enough in the good Master Sir and Mistress Madam so that they could take away the bad dreams. He smiled, somewhat melancholy in the knowledge that what he'd learned would keep Tabitha from her useless excuses for parents.

"Gipple is dead, little one," he whispered softly. Tabitha let out a soft sob, but then she smiled, as if in gratitude, in her sleep.

Dobby left the bedroom and returned to his own. Now he could sleep.

---

The next morning, once breakfast was completed, Echo took Harry to Primary School accompanied by Sophie and Tabitha. Once Harry was dropped off, they Floo'd to The Book Worm.

Mornings at The Book Worm were generally quiet. Ezmerelda watched over Sophie while Echo settled down with Tabitha. The night before Severus and Echo had spoken about the girl's tentative future. Echo had discovered that although Tabitha read voraciously - she'd already fallen in love with the Snape library - she could not write. They had discussed Primary School, but Echo had negated the idea as Tabitha was ten years old and would be very behind all the children her age. So, Echo decided to tutor the girl.

Tabitha sat behind the clerk counter practicing her letters after Echo had shown her the first fifth of the alphabet. She ignored any customers that nodded or smiled at her. She wasn't comfortable with their attention, and if she had said something, she would have requested to being in the back office. However, halfway through her letters, Tabitha, again thinking about the back office, decided she much preferred being with Echo who watched over her, but not oppressively so. It was Echo's smiles, and gentle encouragement that she enjoyed responding to, and when she was finally finished, she presented her work shyly and in hopes of full appreciation.

When the cafe part of the shop was getting busier, Ezmerelda brought Sophie to Echo. Echo let Tabitha find a book to read while she watched over the youngest girl until lunch time.

The Morning at Fairwinds

Severus and Lucius sat in the kitchen, at Dobby's request, and listened in silence as he related his visit to Lockhart Manor. The small elf paced before the two wizards, his hands helping him to describe the wretched, old, neglected house, and its human occupants. Dobby paused only a moment in his recitation; to the moment when he entered the rude kitchen and found Gipple.

Poor Dobby was very agitated and wrung his hands, letting out an anguished wail every few minutes as he related to the thunderstruck wizards the treatment Tabitha had suffered at the hands of the cruel and hateful house elf. He wept as he described the cage, and how it was the child's home for as long as she could remember.

Finally, emotionally exhausted, the house elf bowed to each, silent wizard, and begged leave of them.

With a nod, Severus allowed the free elf to go and Dobby popped wearily out of the kitchen and into the sanctuary of his bedroom.

"We need a drink," announced Lucius. He almost Summoned the fire whiskey, but recalled at the last moment that he was still having trouble with his aim. He rose from his chair, and removed the fire whiskey from its cabinet, along with two glasses.

"Why hasn't she had any nightmares?" asked Severus as Lucius poured the whiskey into the glasses.

"Silencing Charm?" posited Lucius. Severus frowned and sipped at his whiskey. "You were saying the other afternoon that the girl may not be a Squib."

Severus nodded slowly. "It is possible. Children develop their magic at different rates. Studies have shown, though, that a magical child brought up in an atmosphere where their magic is encouraged show incidences of accidental magic as early as four years of age."

"So it's possible that the abuse discouraged the development of Tabitha's magic," mused Lucius.

"Harry has to go to his pediatrician before we go to the circus this Friday. I think I might take Tabitha along as well. Healer Saroyan can get a comprehensive history and check her magical core."

For a long time, both men were lost in their own thoughts, and then Severus spoke again. "Lucius, I've discussed something with Echo that I'd like to run past you."

"And that would be?" the older man shifted to as comfortable a position as he could in the kitchen chair.

"Fairwinds is a large property. Quite a bit larger than the back gardens and the front lawn. You've seen the undeveloped area to the west?"

"I have," Lucius replied slowly.

"We would like to offer that to you so that you can build your own home." Severus eyed his friend sharply to guage his response.

For a moment Lucius took two sips of his whiskey before putting it down. "That's very generous, Severus. It is a good piece of land, but it will be years before I have the kind of money that I can invest in building a home. I think it would be best if you let that to someone else. Once my parole is complete, I'll find a nice flat for myself and Sophie."

Severus stood and pulled a scroll of parchment from his pocket. "I thought you might say something like that." He handed the scroll to Lucius. As Lucius unsealed it, Severus summarised. "The conditions of your parole and Draco's claim to the title of Lord and the Malfoy estates has restricted what Draco can do in helping you. Since he cannot give you any money, he has found that he can pay for a designer and a magical construction crew to build the house. He's already negotiated the necessary contracts and has set a time for you to meet with the designer after the property is cleared."

Lucius, always so cool and collected under the greatest of pressures, gaped silently at the contracts in his hands.

Severus withdrew another scroll. He unrolled it upon the kitchen table and anchored the corners with a Sticking Spell. Lucius leaned over to look at the parchment.

"Title, Severus?"

"Once you sign it, it belongs to you, my friend." Severus held out a quill and Lucius, smiling widely, signed the title with a flourish.

The document duplicated itself and the original vanished to the Ministry where it would neatly file itself away. The copy, Lucius slowly rolled up, then shrank, and tucked it away in his pocket.

"Thank you, Severus," Lucius bowed his head humbly. "Thank you for everything you've done for me and my children."

Friday arrived and Severus left the order of Pepper-Up Potion for Hogwarts to the capable hands of Lucius. With a smirk as he left the lab and ascended the stairs, Severus mused that he might turn the aristocrat, who had hated Potions in school because they made his clothing smell, into a Potions Master.

Emerging from the basement, he went into the kitchen where Dobby and Tabitha sat at the kitchen table as she did her sums. He was pleased that she had accepted the presence of the elf so quickly. As for Dobby, he was exceedingly gentle with the girl, and never popped in her presence for fear of startling her. It was rather strange to see Dobby walking from one part of the house to the next in concern for Tabitha's feelings.

"Tabitha, go and get your cloak, child. It's time to pick up Harry from school and to go to the Healer."

Tabitha looked up reluctantly. "Must I, sir?" she asked. "I'm not feeling at all sick."

"As Echo and I explained to you a few days ago, the visit is necessary so that we can present a medical history to the WCS. If we don't, they may take you from us, and that is something we wish to prevent." He explained quietly.

"Even with that they can still put me in an orphanage," she declared resentfully. The girl got to her feet and pushed past Severus to get her cloak from the front closet.

Severus smiled briefly at Dobby who was rocking rather smugly on his heels. "So you see it, too, do you, Dobby?"

"Missy Tabitha is getting comfortable with Master Sir and Mistress Madame, sir. Is good."

"That it is." He turned from the kitchen and automatically Summoned his outer cloak.

"Hey!" protested Tabitha as the large, billowing cloak swept over her head.

Severus smirked and waved the girl over to the Floo. Tabitha approached the flames warily.

"Have you ever traveled by Floo before?" he asked. Tabitha just shook her head and tucked herself a bit closer to the Potions Master. "It's a little disorienting the first few times. Why don't you just hang on tight to my robes and keep your eyes closed?"

Tabitha nodded vigorously, clutched his robes and then hid her face in them. Severus threw the Floo powder into the orange flames and spoke firmly, "Molly's Schoolhouse!" The green flames whooshed with a soft roar and Severus could feel Tabitha now pressed tightly against his legs. Unable to maneuver, he picked her up and walked into the green flames. Tabitha let out a squeak and buried her head against his neck.

Seconds later they were emerging from the Floo in the main classroom of Molly's schoolhouse. Severus found himself suddenly patting Tabitha's back as she wept against his shoulder, her body trembling.

"Severus? Can I help?" asked Molly with concern as she left the group of children who were working on some project with coloured paper.

"Tabitha's first time through a Floo," he spoke sotto vocce. "I think it alarmed her more than she expected."

"Hey, Tabby," said Harry gently as he patted her knee. That was as high as he could reach. "Wanna come meet my friends?"

Tabitha sniffled and looked down at Harry. "Yeah," she nodded in agreement.

Severus lowered the girl to her feet and Molly conjured her a handkerchief. "Here you are, dear."

"Thank you, ma'am," Tabitha said politely, but it was obvious she was pleased to get away from the doting adults and forget her tears.

"That's the little one Echo was telling me about, Severus?" asked Molly as she and Severus both watched as Harry introduced all his friends to Tabitha.

"She is." Severus turned to face Molly. "By the way, Molly, the Wizarding Childrens Services will be testing Tabitha's grade level, but I was hoping you might be able to test her independently. I don't necessarily trust their 'experts'."

Molly chuckled. "I'd be happy to, Severus. Why don't you bring her in Monday morning with Harry. She can take class with everyone, and I'll test her in the basics as the day goes along." They watched the children for a few more minutes.

Harry had told his friends already a bit about Tabitha so they were all fascinated with her and stood in a circle around the shyly smiling girl.

"You and Echo seem very determined to keep the child from the clutches of the WCS," Molly observed shrewdly.

Severus gave her a subtle, dark glance that relaxed into an aggrieved sigh. "Echo has become very attached, very quickly to the girl. But, we have a baby on the way," he added uneasily.

"Taking on another child is quite a big responsibility," Molly seemed to agree. "And, a baby is also quite a bit of work. However, Arthur and I did rather well with our seven." Molly snickered silently as she caught the quick appearance of a greenish look to the Potions Master's sallow complexion.

There wasn't a thing Severus could say to that without inadvertently insulting Molly. However, he couldn't get the sudden image of himself surrounded by enough children to create his own Quidditch team. It definitely made him feel a bit queasy.

"Harry! Tabitha! Time to go," he announced. Tabitha gave the children a slightly less shy wave, and then trotted beside Harry up to Severus' side.

Tabitha appeared brave until they faced the flames of the Floo. She gave Severus an agonised glance before looking back at the orange flames. Before Severus could say anything, Harry had slipped his hand into Tabitha's.

"I used to fall a lot when I Floo'd because my balance was pants, but it's okay as long as you hold your breath and kinda close your eyes," he said encouragingly.

Tabitha leaned over to whisper into Harry's ear. Severus could not hear what she said. For a brief second Harry looked horrified, then his expression hardened. "Dad won't let you burn, Tabby. And, we won't let nobody hurt you no more!"

That statement Severus did hear and he hardened his own features so they did not show the anger he felt. Dobby had not mentioned that Tabitha had been deliberately burned, but she clearly feared such an action.

"Harry is correct, Tabitha," Severus nodded as he placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder. "We will allow no more harm to come to you." Tabitha let out a small huff of relief. "Would you like me to carry you again, Tabitha?"

For a moment she seemed torn between allowing anyone to see that she might be a baby, but then, looking up at Severus, she held up her arms. He lifted her and she held onto him tightly. The child sighed happily at the secure embrace as she buried her head into his shoulder.

---

Nurse Gunner, an enthusiastic, slightly short but well-built young wizard, greeted Harry with a Muggle high-five that Harry had taught the male nurse on his last visit. He then nodded to Severus. "Mr. Snape, good to see you. Healer Saroyan is already waiting for you, so come on back."

The nurse led the three back to the examination room. Tabitha's clammy hand gripped Severus' tightly as her eyes darted back and forth at her surroundings. Severus had no doubt that if she didn't have such a tight grip on him, she might choose to run.

Healer Lya Saroyan was a lovely young woman who was nearly as tall as Severus with impossible straw-blonde hair that was only kept tame by a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She very nearly always smiled, and today was no exception as she greeted Severus, Harry, and then settled her attention of the small girl.

"You must be Tabitha," the Healer greeted softly. The child simply nodded. "Well, I'm very pleased to meet you. Are you nervous?"

When she didn't reply, Severus gave her a small nudge. "Uhm. Maybe. A little?" she finally spoke.

"Don't you worry about a thing. Why don't you watch me examine Harry, and then you'll go next?"

Harry, his attention diverted, as usual, by the glittering gems that were used for therapy, didn't hear his name. His father spoke shortly, "Harry." The boy turned sharply. "Up on the table."

Harry used the three steps to ascend to the exam table and sat upon the end. He smiled as Healer Saroyan took out her wand and waved it over him as she incanted several Diagnostic Spells. The Healer smiled brightly and conjured a dragon pop for the little boy.

"You are in excellent health, Harry," she said. "Take a bit of extra care with your teeth at night, though. I see you have a loose tooth."

Harry's eyes widened in horror. "I brush real well! Am I gonna lose my teeth?"

Severus smirked and the Healer laughed. "Only your baby teeth, dear. They'll fall out as new ones come in. I'll be giving your daddy a pamphlet on painless baby teeth removal and a spell for making sure the new teeth come in straight."

"Do straighten spells hurt?" he asked warily.

"The spell itself doesn't, Harry, but your teeth will ache for a little while afterwards."

Okay." Harry slipped dubiously off the exam table. "Do I have to have 'em straightened?"

"Well," began the Healer a bit confused. "Why don't you want straight teeth?"

"How come I have to have straight teeth if my dad doesn't? And, I don't want any pain," he stated firmly.

Severus' cheeks pinked as his son hit upon one of his flaws he was most embarrassed about; his teeth. Once Tobias Snape had hit his son hard enough to knock him down which broke three teeth and loosened one. Eileen had done her best to fix the damage, but she wasn't versed well in dental magic and so, with the damage and unfortunate Muggle genetics, he'd wound up with a crooked set of teeth.

"Harry," Severus approached his son, trying to loosen his sudden rigidity as he addressed the subject of his son's teeth. "Crooked teeth are not something to be wished for. You could wind up with a great deal of problems if they aren't taken care of now."

Harry looked up at his father's tense, thin-lipped expression and realised that his father was speaking openly about something he found annoying. Harry didn't want to annoy his father, but neither did he want to have an ache in his mouth. Then, the little boy's face brightened for a second, and Severus noted the quick glimmer of shrewd Slytherin flash in Harry's green eyes.

"If I have to get mine straightened, then you have to get your teeth straightened, too!" Inwardly, Harry beamed at his solution.

Severus couldn't have stopped the glower that froze his son's smile in place. He knew Harry thought he was being devilishly clever, something which Severus liked to encourage, but why his teeth? He felt his insides coil sickly, recalling the long ago nickname that James Potter had devised: Yellow Teeth. In some ways, he was thankful that Sirius Black's nickname of Snivellus had been more popular than James' nickname.

His teeth were hardly yellow. He would have learned a few cosmetic spells if they'd been that horrid, disagreeable colour. His teeth were more of an antique white that had a tiny bit of yellow aging in it. It was genetic and had not bothered him as much as the crooked and broken teeth had. Since neither really detracted from his physignomy in a harmful way, he had not thought of fixing them when he reached adulthood. It seemed an unnecessary vanity. And, his wife certainly didn't seem to mind them!

Or did she? Now that he thought of it, Severus had certainly never heard his lovely wife say anything disparaging about his teeth, but neither had she ever been complimentary. That decided him.

"Fine!" he snapped a bit harshly. Taking in a deep breath, he calmed his temper and pushed away the past. "Healer, what needs to be done for Harry and I?"

"Well, Harry will need a prescribed Straightening Spell that you can perform at night for two weeks. As for you, Mr. Snape, there is an adult spell, but that really ought to be performed by a Dental Healer. An adult's mouth is not as flexible as a child's."

The Healer gave Severus the necessary information and a referral to a Dental Healer that he would meet with once they were done at the pediatrician's office. As Tabitha ascended to the exam table, Severus tried to focus on her and to not think about his latest stupidity for the benefit of his son's comfort.

While Tabitha and Harry kept themselves occupied in the office playroom, watched over by Nurse Gunther, Severus and Healer Saroyan sat in her study to discuss Tabitha's medical history scans.

"First off, you'll be pleased to know that there was no sign of sexual abuse," said the Healer gravely. Severus wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but he knew the Healer had more to say. "She has had numerous broken bones and her back bears the scars of what I can only think might be a lash of some sort. What is good is that Tabitha does have a magical core. It's been kept rather busy healing her body, and a good thing, too. Had her magic not taken over, those bones could have re-knit themselves badly." Lya Saroyan shook her head sadly as she imagined the broken body Tabitha could have had if she were a Squib.

Severus was pleased to hear that the child did have magic. She might very well have a Hogwarts letter arriving in a few days.

"My reports have been sent to WCS along with a request to investigate the family home. Since it is usually procedure in these cases for WCS to foster the abused child until the investigation is complete and resolved, I have signed this application giving my approval to you and Echo to foster Tabitha. You and your wife just need to fill it out and once it is signed, it will be filed along with my reports."

Severus took the application. "Perhaps there is..." he cut himself off for even suggesting that another family might foster Tabitha. He might be concerned about taking on the responsibility of another child, but Echo wasn't. Hadn't she threatened him just last night about callously sending the girl to an orphanage. The Potions Master cringed at the remembered ripple of his wife's pregnant-enhanced, angry magic. "Thank you, Healer Saroyan."

Severus was about to stand when the Healer motioned him back into his chair. "Many children of Tabitha's age who have experienced the level of physical abuse she suffered will do their best to fit in and hide their distress in social situations. Tabitha might also hide the fact from you that she has nightmares. Has she had any that you're aware of?"

"None that I know of, however it is possible she might be casting a Silencing Charm at night. There are a few wards I can cast to counteract that, if she is doing such a thing," he explained.

"That's good, then. How is she around others?"

"Shy. Extremely obedient. I've noticed that if Sophie or Harry are a bit lax in doing something they are told, Tabitha will jump in and do the chore for them, if we don't catch her." The Healer nodded knowledgeably. "She does seem to trust Sophie and Harry implicitely, though."

"Does she take her cues from them?" asked the Healer.

Severus nodded, then. "Yes, she does. Both Sophie and Harry are extremely well-behaved and I have noticed that Tabitha is picking up the same habits from them. She even managed to get a bit angry with me today about our appointment here." He smiled smugly at that.

Saroyan laughed. "That's good, then. She's beginning to trust you and to test her boundaries. Don't treat her any differently than you do your son, but do keep an eye on her. I do think she's quite a level-headed girl despite the abuse, so you may not have a lot of problems with her."

Severus rose then, and gave the Healer a respectful bow. He then left the study and picked up the two children from the playroom. Tabitha eyed him warily as they stepped outside of the office.

"Am I okay, Severus?" asked Tabitha slowly.

Severus' right eyebrow rose high into his fringe. Tabitha had only called him 'sir' since they had taken her to Fairwinds. A tug on his sleeve from his son made him glance away. The look on Harry's face silently explained that it was Harry who had put the girl up to calling him by his name. Looking back at her he could see that her body language was preparing for his ire, possibly him hitting her. He relaxed his posture and gave the child a reassuring smile, thinking to himself how much easier smiles were coming to him.

"You are quite healthy, Tabitha, and you should be especially pleased to know that you are not a Squib." Severus was pleased by the bright smile that lit up her face. The girl really needed to smile more.

"I'm a witch?" her voice trembled with delight. Severus nodded. Tabitha let out a purely girlish squeal and jumped up and down. "I'm a witch! I'm a witch!"

"This calls for ice cream!" declared Harry.

Severus, so caught off guard by the forceful exuberance behind his son's statement, laughed.

---

Severus Snape hated Dental Healers. At first, he thought he would be fair and just hate the one that Healer Saroyan had referred him to, but after meeting the unctuous wizard, he was prepared to lump all of them together under one universal hate.

Severus had decided, after the first spell, that Dental Healer Eamon Daragos was a sadist. Probably a trained Death Eater.

"Now, really, Mr. Snape," scolded the Healer in a whiny pitch that sounded like Irma Pince from the library at Hogwarts. "I can hardly complete my spell if you don't open your mouth and relax." Daragos gave the dark man an oily smile and Severus sneered. "That won't work either, my boy. Come along, now. Open up!"

Feeling just a tiny bit foolish, he was a grown-up after all and had to set an example for his son, Severus grudgingly opened his mouth, again.

Healer Daragos incanted the spell, its cadence differed from the one cast previously that still had Severus' jaw throbbing as though he'd been hit with a champion roundhouse punch. There came the sensation of bone against bone as the spell ended and though he was severely tempted to yell at the blooming of pain at the right front of his mouth, he only slammed his fist against the chair arm, causing it to splinter.

Severus half-grimaced and half-smiled as his torturer jumped back a foot and muttered an imprecation in Greek.

The little Healer glared at his patient. "Do not think to bring violence into this office, Mr. Snape. I explained, at the beginning, that this was a painful process and would be doubly so considering the extent of your jaw's misalignment due to genetics and childhood accidents."

Severus lips thinned despite the fading, but still throbbing pain of half his front teeth. He could kill the man and vanish the body. All the Healer's patients would probably thank him. Order of Merlin, First Class.

"No doubt you want to kill me, Mr. Snape," the Healer deduced accurately, "But we Dental Healers are rarely looked upon by our patients with devotion in their hearts. Pain hardly endears one to the causer of pain. However, it is not my desire to see you in such discomfort, but I did explain how a pain suppressing potion would interfere with the magic. Surely Healer Saroyan explained this to you also as you will be performing a Straightening Spell on your son and cannot ease his discomfort through any such magic."

Severus disliked the smug lilt in the wizard's tone, not even realising that it might be imagined. He merely opened his mouth, determined to get this procedure done with so he could collect his children and never be seen in this sadist's office again!

"So glad you have chosen reason over vengeance, Mr. Snape," Healer Daragos smiled and began his third incantation.

An hour later Severus swept from the Dental Healer's torture chamber with a rather scary, grim look upon his face. His expression softened as he caught sight of his two worried children and he gathered them to his side and left.

Inside the inner exam room, Healer Daragos looked mournfully at the splintered remains of his antique dental chair and the contents from an exploded filing cabinet that had held the archived records of past patients scattered in unrecoverable shreds all around the room.

Perhaps his parting quip, "Trust me, Mr. Snape, this has hurt me more than it did you," wasn't the wisest thing he'd ever said in his career as a Dental Healer. Bending to pick up a piece of the antique dental chair, he sighed. Never tease an ex-Death Eater.

---

Much later that evening, Severus forgave the hour of pain in his mouth as his delighted wife snogged him absolutely breathless as she showed her husband just how much she loved his newly straightened teeth.