A rather placid Lucius Malfoy sat upon a tall stool in the middle of Severus' lab underneath Fairwinds house. As Severus slowly circled him intoning several spells he didn't recognise, he allowed his mind to drift to the most prominent of his fleeting dream memories of the younger wizard.

Lucius paced the floor in agitation. In his arms was the bundle of his small son, barely a week old. The distraught, new father was watched by Severus, whose expression was cold and distant as he stood beside the fireplace in Lucius' very large study in Malfoy Manor.

"I cannot do it, Severus!" Lucius' voice broke with anguish as he turned to face his friend. "Is there nothing you can do?"

For a long moment Severus watched the elder Slytherin cradling his son close to his chest. Every few seconds, Lucius whispered to his son. Severus could not hear it, but expected it was merely the nonsense parents fell into when they wanted their voice to soothe a distraught child.

"There is something," Severus began slowly. He moved away from the fireplace and stood a bit closer to his friend.

Lucius' grey eyes pierced Severus Snape's usually intimidating gaze. He demanded, "Whatever it is, Severus, I will do what needs to be done to save my son!"

Severus' eyebrows snapped upward at the older man's uncharacteristic Hufflepuff outburst. He sneered briefly as he kept his tongue silent with the rebuke he normally would have voiced.

"Make the child my godson..." Lucius was about to protest, when Severus held up his hand to forestall the man's argument. "It must be legal under the tenets of Ministry law, but if you want to prevent having to pledge your son to our Master, then it must be done the old way... sanctioned by a bond with blood."

"Narcissa would throw a fit," murmured Lucius as he glanced down at his son's tiny, sleeping face. His index finger lightly stroked his son's soft cheeks. Draco's eyes managed to open for a moment, their silvery blue colour settling upon the familiar face of his father. One small, curled fist, grasped Lucius finger and he burbled happily as his eyes shut as sleep took over.

"I wouldn't worry about your wife's reaction, Lucius. Our Master will be furious." Lucius jerked his head up and stared, aghast, at his friend. It was then he noted the very smug expression on Severus' face.

"You may escape with merely a Cruciatus after I explain to the Dark Lord that you made me the child's godfather in the manner of the Old Ways in order to ensure that your child is appropriately trained. I will also make note of the fact that when Draco comes of age, I shall be his sponsor as he's given into our Master's service."

Lucius nodded, mostly to himself and mumbled something under his breath to his child. He kissed Draco's brow and then handed his small son over to Severus.

Lucius could not recall what had happened after he made Severus his son's godfather, but he knew and felt deep down that this was the only wizard he trusted from his hidden past.

Severus continued his spell work as he paced slowly clockwise around Lucius. The blonde wizard flinched a few times when a spell would cause some slight discomfort. Once each spell was finished, runes, numbers, or arcane symbols would appear over Lucius. Severus would quickly transcribe the results in a fresh journal.

Once the last spell was cast, the Potions Master leaned against his work table. As Lucius blinked, leaving his fragmented memories behind, Severus closed his eyes for a moment.

"Why don't you sit over there for a moment. I just..." Lucius slid off the stool and without a by-your-leave, he caught the magic exhausted wizard before he toppled to the floor. With his arm across the younger man's back Lucius then helped Severus over to the chairs in the corner.

"I think you need some water, Severus," observed Lucius.

Severus called for Dobby (his short nap now finished) and had the elf bring them a carafe of cool water. Lucius finally settled into one of the chairs as his old friend nearly emptied the glass of water.

"You're not a Squib," Severus began.

Lucius smiled at that. "How did you figure out that was even a concern of mine?"

"The Lucius Malfoy I knew would never be caught hammering tent stakes into the ground like a Muggle," Severus enlightened the man.

"Rather full of myself, it seems," mused Lucius as he stretched out his long legs.

"In that, you were the master," smirked Severus.

"My magic was Bound, I take it?" he sighed as he inquired about what Severus had found.

The younger wizard nodded. "I was able to detect a strong magical signature in the Binding Spell that was used. Bellatrix was an absolute menace during any battle that the Dark Lord sent us on. She would blast enemy and ally alike without any discernible reason. Voldemort rather liked her mad nature and would indulge her, but up to a point. Killing his Death Eaters was quite frowned upon and she was appropriately punished by her Lord and Master."

"Hm," Lucius stretched, his spine popping audibly. "A victim of friendly fire."

Severus gave his old friend a grim smile. "In a way. Voldemort watched as Bella was taken down." The Potions Master did not reveal that it had been he that finally killed Bellatrix LeStrange before she could kill Harry Potter.

Lucius shook his head wearily. "Will you be able to reverse the Mad Witch's spell?"

"I'm certain I can, however, I hesitate in... unleashing all of your past memories at once," Severus replied cautiously.

"I suppose, as a Death Eater I have rather more unpleasant memories than the average wizard." It was less a question than it was a statement of fact. Lucius laced his fingers together and squeezed his hands together tightly, before releasing the tension. For a moment he stared down at the floor and then he lifted his chin. "When do you think I might meet my son, Severus?"

Severus drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair before answering Lucius' question. Finally, "Draco is anxious to see you, but I am concerned that since you have no memory of him, that would do more harm than good."

"As you appear to be the expert in the recovery of my memories, I shall bow to your judgment, Severus."

The old Lucius would have said that same sentence, but beneath the seemingly complimentary phrase there would be a tinge of acid with a fake, charming smile. Severus was beginning to warm to this unaffected, straightforward, and truly charming wizard. He suspected that had Lucius' life never been touched by the cloying evil of Voldemort that he would have been much like this man seated, at ease, in his potions lab.

"Since my family and I will be taking you up on your offer of tickets to the circus, I would, therefore, prefer that you and Draco meet before then. I shall speak to him this evening and see what his wishes are after I've explained about your memories to him."

Lucius nodded and let out a shaky breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Severus understood his old friend's trepidation. Tea was needed. "Dobby!"

The elf popped into the lab. Upon seeing his old master, he let out a yelp of surprise. Lucius, of course, had no idea why Dobby's knees began to knock together.

Dobby's great sea-green eyes swept over Lucius once and then he tentatively took a step towards the wizard. "You is changed, once my own Master Lucius," the elf declared solemnly.

Lucius glanced over at Severus with a puzzled frown. "Was this elf bound to my family?"

"He is a free elf, Lucius," Severus clued the man in. "Any questions you might have, you may address to Dobby directly."

"Ah," he nodded. Lucius regarded the house elf. The little elf was curiously dressed in a jumper of yellow with a "D" on it. Upon his head were four caps, each a different colour. On his feet were a pair of knobbly knit, very bright, yellow socks. "You were bound to my family?"

Dobby nodded his head rapidly, dislodging his top cap. Snatching it up and worrying it in his hands he replied, "Dobby serve Malfoys for centuries." The elf held up two fingers to indicate just how many centuries it had been. "Dobby remember all Malfoys, but my once Master Lucius remembered best. You is changed." He grinned widely and clapped his hands together a few times. "Is very much good."

To Lucius' surprise, the small elf leaned towards him and then patted his clasped hands. With another smile, he had popped out.

"A free elf," smirked Lucius with a slight chuckle. "I've never seen one. I think." He shook his head and then, with a wry smile, he glanced at Severus. "Terrible fashion sense, though."

Severus sighed. "Before he came to work with us, he was at Hogwarts. I'm afraid that Albus' own fashion choices have rubbed off on Dobby."

Lucius laughed. A rich, unimpeded laugh that was so genuine, Severus couldn't help himself. He smiled.

Draco, who was spending the rest of the Christmas holiday with Hermione and her parents, was now pacing nervously over the carpet in Dr. Angus Granger's study. The door was closed, giving them their privacy.

As Severus watched the young man, he was suddenly struck by how much Draco resembled his father. In his sixth year, Draco had experienced a growth spurt that brought him eye-to-eye with his godfather. Draco had his father's slim build and wiry muscle along with more obvious features such as his blonde hair, and grey-blue eyes. He hadn't quite the grace of the older Malfoy, but Severus suspected that was due to the fact that he hadn't been traveling the political and social circles that had once been everything to Lucius. In other words, Draco had become more relaxed and accessible around people and that was reflected in his bearing.

Draco finally stopped his pacing and faced Severus. "So, there's nothing?" his voice choked with a plethora of confused emotions. He coughed and collapsed upon the old, weather-worn leather sofa that was flush against the wall.

Severus conjured a glass of cool water and floated it over to his godson. "The memories are there, Draco. They've been locked behind by very strong Occlumens shields." He frowned. "I wish I knew the spell that had accomplished such an incredible..." he cut off his thoughts. "Anyway, he is anxious to meet you before we all go and visit the circus." His eyebrow rose as he saw Draco wringing his hands. "Lucius is just as nervous as you are, Draco."

"You're not going to be able to unlock everything at once, are you?" Draco stopped wringing his hands and stuffed them under his thighs.

"It would not be wise. Especially with the memories he has when he was a Death Eater."

Draco's chin lifted sharply and there was anguish and worry in his expression. "Is there any way to keep those... the awful memories... locked away forever?"

Severus slowly shook his head. He explained, "Once I am able to break through the Occlumens shield, I will have to put up a kind of... filter that will allow the memories to return at an easier pace. Unfortunately, your father is going to suffer from some awful nightmares until all the memories, including those when he was a Death Eater, are integrated."

Draco rose to his feet, and started pacing again. Severus noted that the young man's shoulders were hunched and his brow was deeply wrinkled from the scowl that had settled upon his features. It was a shock when the younger wizard stopped his pacing abruptly and glared down at his godfather.

"He'll go mad!" Draco's tone was accusatory enough that Severus reacted instinctively and bit out sharply, "Isn't that what I've been telling you?" He marched to the door of the study and yanked the door open. Seeing Hermione in the hallway, staring in surprise at both men, reminded Severus that he wasn't at home. He growled beneath a regretful breath as he realised he couldn't walk away as he usually might.

"Come in, if you wish to, Miss Granger," he said a little too sharply and then swept out of the study, just barely missing the young woman. Severus continued down the short hallway into the comfortable looking living room. He tried to pretend that the doctors Granger weren't both staring at him in puzzlement as he strode out of the living room, into the kitchen and out the back door to the yard.

The biting cold of the winter air cut through his simple suit. He had not brought his winter cloak and so he was chilled, very quickly. Casting a quick warming charm, he paced through the snow under his feet.

He knew he had overreacted and he shouldn't have snapped at Draco. Draco had voiced the main worry he had in regards to unlocking Lucius' memories. He saw no difficulty in unlocking the memories, but what he'd not told either Lucius or Draco was that there was no such thing as an Occlumens filter. Breaking the shield would release ALL of Lucius' memories, good, bad, and nightmarish. His mind would shatter under the emotional weight of all those memories and he would become as mad as his now dead sister-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange.

He looked up from the snow he was churning into a slushy mess as he paced when light from the kitchen door spilled out onto the night. Dr. Angus Granger strode out into the snow and slung a heavy wool cloak over the wizard's shoulders. He wore a similar coat.

Before he could stop himself, Severus was telling the Muggle about Lucius, his memories, and his concerns.

Puffing on a pipe, Angus adjusted his spectacles and looked out over the snow covered meadow behind their neat house. "Reminds me of PTSD." At the wizard's puzzled look, he elaborated, "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Soldiers returning from war were diagnosed with the condition. Their time in a war would leave them feeling displaced, experiencing vivid nightmares, sleep walking, and having waking hallucinations wherein the afflicted would often act out the terrors in his mind."

"Lucius is not experiencing such symptoms, yet," replied Severus. "However, that does sound very much like what he would suffer if he were subjected to all of his memories at once. A madness, if you will."

Angus nodded sagely as he tapped his pipe against a nearby tree. "It is madness, Severus. It can tear a man apart."

"How do Muggles treat such a condition?" asked Severus with keen interest.

"Group therapy with a psychiatrist, medications that help to lower the body's natural fight or flight response. When it's very bad, sufferers might have to be placed in an asylum with doctors and nurses who can help the patient over an extended amount of time." When his pipe was emptied of its expired tobacco, Angus tucked the pipe into his pocket.

"Sometimes I wish we could use your Muggle medications, but more often than not, they interfere with our healing magic," sighed Severus.

"Hermione tells me you've quite a talent in creating potions for magic folk," Angus interjected. "Many of those are of a healing nature, aren't they?" Severus nodded, wondering what Angus might be thinking. "I'm wondering if it isn't possible that you already have potions that might aid you as you free Lucius' memories. If not, it's possible you could create them, if you had a Muggle reference to base your potions on."

"Indeed," mused Severus, stuffing his now very cold hands into the warm pockets of the coat. "Dreamless Sleep Potion is one I already expected to use, for a short time. It's highly addictive, and I cannot allow it to completely suppress his dreams as dreams are often a key component in healing the mind." He glanced sideways at Hermione's father. "What reference were you thinking of?"

Angus nodded to Severus. "In my office." Angus led the way back into the house and Severus, now suitably curious, followed.

As the two men stepped into the kitchen, they found Draco and Hermione each indulging in a slice of pecan pie. Draco glanced up guiltily at his godfather. Severus paused and placed a comforting hand upon his godson's shoulder. Draco let out a breath of relief and he smiled at his uncle. Severus leaned down to whisper into the young man's ear.

"Sleep on it tonight, Dragon. Call me with your answer in the morning." Hermione was startled as Severus lightly kissed Draco's forehead before resuming his following of her father.

In the study, Angus withdrew a rather large, and heavy tome from his bookshelves. It's spine was worn and the covers were scuffed from much use. Without looking at the book, Angus began to reminisce, "I had a brother, Artie. He was almost fifteen years older than me. Such an open fellow." He smiled at the memory. "Artie was my hero. He never lost his temper with me, and he never seemed to tire of me following him around everywhere. He came home from the war... Vietnam, was the one, and... he had changed. He was a sergeant. He'd been badly injured in a fight that took out all his men. Artie lost his left leg, but that didn't seem to be the problem." Angus looked grimly down at the book he held and then he handed it over to Severus.

"It was still being called 'Shell Shock' back then. Treatment seemed to consist of heavy sedatives and friends and family treading carefully around the person suffering from it. Artie had horrid nightmares and when he became addicted to the sleeping pills he was prescribed, he started having the hallucinations." Angus dropped wearily into his desk chair and for a moment his hand covered his face. After a time, he looked up. "Artie jumped off a bridge ten months after coming home."

Angus ended his story and so in the silence Severus examined the book he had been given. It was a comprehensive book about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, its history, symptoms, and treatments. Severus sat down on the edge of the sofa and began to flip through it.

"I was purchasing my books for dental college when I stumbled across that," Angus said softly. "I just wanted to understand what Artie had gone through." Angus rose to his feet. Speaking of his beloved brother had tired him. "Take it with you, Severus. You might find something in there that will help you with your friend."

"Thank you, Angus," Severus said quietly. He closed the book as Hermione's father left his study.

Lucius Malfoy had been invited to stay for a few days at Fairwinds. He had enjoyed a lovely dinner with Severus and his family. As Severus briefly skimmed over what he'd be doing to help Lucius, the blonde wizard had quietly watched the man that the wizarding world had known as both Dark and Light wizard interact so easily with his small family. Lucius recalled the many photos he'd seen of Severus in the news. He had a hard time comparing this man listening to his young son relate a story having to do with his friends, to the one in those photos.

Severus' wife, Echo, was also very enchanting. She related the latest magic that Dobby, their house elf... PAID house elf, had been teaching her. This familial bliss tugged tightly at his heart as he thought of the woman who'd been his wife, Narcissa.

His few fragmented dreams of Narcissa had not been pleasant ones. Mostly arguments between the two. When Severus had explained that Draco had severed Narcissa from the Noble Line of Malfoy, he had not felt all that surprised. Photos that he'd seen of Narcissa Black in the society pages had reflected a woman of incredible beauty, but with no warmth at all. He doubted that his family life had been one to treasure.

Yet, there was his son, Draco. After he had learned of his identity as a Death Eater he had hoped that his dreams and nightmares would show him more of his son. There was only the one dream, that of him cradling his six day old child to his chest as he begged Severus to find a way to keep Draco out of the mad wizard Voldemort's hands.

After dinner, Severus made his Floo call to Draco and after making certain that Lucius was all right with staying with Echo and Harry, he disappeared into the green flames to the Granger home.

Echo, Harry, and Lucius had settled in the cosy parlor. Echo worked on her crocheting while Harry sat on the floor against the coffee table, drawing. For several minutes Lucius watched as Echo created with her own hands, and no magic, a small cap for a newborn.

"That isn't for your elf, is it?" Lucius asked, genuinely curious about the object Echo was crocheting.

Echo laughed. "Not at all. Dobby is adamant that only Hermione Granger can knit caps for him. This," she held up the nearly finished cap, "is for the baby. Muggles do this for newborns. I don't think I've seen any witches that cover their child's head."

"I knew a Muggle lady who used such a cap on her newborn daughter," Lucius said, almost wistfully.

"A friend of yours?" Echo asked gently. Lucius replied with a nod, but the pain that clearly shone in his eyes prevented Echo from delving deeper into who the woman was. She had obviously been, at one time, a close friend. She smoothly changed the subject. "I've always enjoyed needlework. Once I developed a proper appreciation for it."

As Lucius politely listened, interjecting a relevant question or two, Echo told him about her years in America and her time at the Salem Academy for Witches & Wizards.

"You blew up the Potions classroom?" Lucius smirked and then allowed the laughter, he tried to hold in, out.

"It wasn't on purpose," Echo laughed as well. "But it certainly was a spectacular explosion."

At that moment, Harry tried to stifle a big yawn, but his mother saw it anyway.

"Time to get ready for bed, Harry," Echo reminded her son who was trying to pretend he hadn't heard her. "Harry."

Harry turned abruptly and fixed his attention on his mother. "But dad's not home, yet, mum!" He gave Echo a look that youngsters, Muggle and Magical both, had perfected over centuries. A little anguished, a bit of puppy dog's eyes, and a dash of a pleading smile. It was a powerful piece of inner magic that caused Echo to glare menacingly at her son.

"You know I hate that look, Harry," Echo glowered in an attempt to disable her son's expression. The she smirked suddenly. "It disables me everytime you use it." Harry openly grinned and flashed a triumphant smile towards Lucius. Echo sighed melodramatically. "Fine. Go get ready for bed and instead of 7:30 you can go to bed at 8:30."

"Nine?" Harry tried to wheedle gently.

"Do you want me to make it 8:15, you incorrigible child?" Echo's sneer was becoming almost as powerful as his father's.

"No! No!" Harry trotted quickly out of the parlor and soon his rapid footsteps could be heard on the staircase.

Lucius chuckled softly. "He is a charmer, isn't he?"

Echo smiled proudly. "That he is and he's getting rather Slytherin in the ways he uses his charm on us. Thank goodness Severus was Head of Slytherin House and knows most of those tricks."

"Tell me, Echo, did I earlier hear Harry refer to Draco as his big brother?" began Lucius.

Echo nodded. "From what Severus tells me, Harry has doted and relied upon Draco since the day they met after Harry de-aged himself." Echo patted the small roundness of her tummy. "Harry cannot wait to be a big brother himself. He's been asking Draco for pointers."

"I've seen news photos of Draco with his... I mean, with me, and he appeared to be such an angry child. I take it he is no longer that angry youngster?" asked Lucius.

"Draco is a very happy young man," Echo leaned over and touched the back of Lucius' hand lightly. "And don't think he was ever alone, Lucius. Draco had Severus, Harry, and Hermione."

Lucius breathed a sigh of relief. Inside, his nerves relaxed a fraction. He was still uncertain about meeting his son, but maybe, he thought, it would be a good thing.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Harry was back in the parlor, in his pyjamas, slippers, and his thick, fleecy robe. He was about to say something when he heard a "shhush" sound. Glancing over at Lucius Malfoy, he saw the man touching a finger to his lips and then pointing at his mother. Lucius had found a book to read in the extensive Snape library. As he read, Echo had dozed off on her chaise in the middle of her crocheting.

Harry tip-toed into the parlor and over towards Lucius. He whispered, "Mum usually reads me a story when I get to stay up later." He glanced over at his mother, a stricken expression on his face.

"Would you like me to read you something, Harry?" offered Lucius. Harry nodded and smiled. "Go get a book you'd like, then, and we'll read quietly by the fire."

Harry zoomed out of the parlor and into the living room where there was a small bookshelf that held a variety of books he and his parents read. He grabbed one and then quickly ran back to the parlor. With a bit of breathlessness, he handed the book to Lucius.

"Treasure Island," Lucius read the title as he patted his lap.

Harry did an awful job of trying to clamber up onto Lucius' lap so the older man had to intervene, or suffer bruising. Lucius slipped an arm around Harry's waist and soon had the little boy ensconced comfortably with his back to Lucius' chest. Harry helped Lucius to find the chapter that had not been read.

"This is all about pirates and treasure," said Harry in soft, conspiratorial tones. "Jim's the cabin boy who is friends with Long John Silver. He's got one leg like Mr. Moody has. They're all on the island now with all the pirates in charge." Harry slouched slightly, adding to his comfort. "It's a really scary part," he whispered.

Lucius began reading Treasure Island to his small audience of one. The older wizard's voice has not changed from his days as a social and political influence, and as one of Voldemort's elite Death Eaters. His voice flowed like enchanted honey neatly spiked with his aristocratic culture, and long ago lessons when he was taught to enunciate clearly. Each word, during those lessons, that was unclear meant a painful stripe from a birchwood limb to his backside, sharply wielded by Abraxas Malfoy. Consequently, young Lucius learned quickly.

Lucius of the present, though, could not remember the origins of his well modulated, and infinitely charming voice. All that mattered was that Harry was caught in its spell, imagining the island of pirates, of brave Jim, and the wickedly, enigmatic, Long John Silver.

At the end of the chapter, Harry was fast asleep in Lucius' arms. Lucius placed the book on the small table near his elbow and shifted the little boy into a more comfortable position. He did not bother to stifle the yawn that arrived, letting him know of his own need for sleep. He had no intention of sleeping, yet, though. He merely meant to close and rest his tired eyes.

Sleep did steal its way to Lucius and he dreamt a true memory of a rare moment when his own little, three year old son had crawled up onto his lap and fell asleep to the sound of his father's voice reading from Tales of Beedle the Bard.