Dumbledore was highly annoyed.

“How is James expected to help me when he’s under house arrest?” he ranted to McGonagall, pacing back and forth in his office at Hogwarts. “If only he’d been discreet about going after that Slytherin family . . .” He trailed off, and a growling noise rose from his throat. “Now who will be my bodyguard when I’m Minister?”

“Once you become Minister, you can pardon the dear boy,” McGonagall soothed, folding her hands neatly around the delicate tea cup she held. “And perhaps a holiday would be good for the boy. He can relax, plan, make a list of those who can be called on to support our side.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore said, slowly, folding his arms across his chest and one hand rising to tap a finger thoughtfully against his bearded chin. “Yes, you’re quite right, dear. And with James under house arrest, then no-one would ever think he could do . . . certain things for us.” Retreating to sit behind his desk, Dumbledore smiled at his second-in-command and folded his hands together in front of him. “Perhaps James has helped us more than I realised.”

At that moment, a little silver instrument placed just to the left of Dumbledore’s desk let out a shrill squeal and a puff of bright orange smoke. Dumbledore glanced at it and sighed.

“The students are arriving,” he informed McGonagall and rose to his feet.

“Ah.” McGonagall drained the last of her tea and sighed with regret. “Although we obviously must show people the right way, I shall miss the peace and quiet in the castle.”

“Never mind, my dear,” said Dumbledore, patting her gently on the shoulder as she, too, stood up. “Once I become Minister, then you shall become Headmistress, and may lock yourself away in this office whenever you desire. But for now . . . I bet ten Galleons that fully a third of the incoming first years will be Sorted into Gryffindor.”

“My, my, very confident, aren’t we?” McGonagall chuckled as she preceded him down the winding staircase. “Ten on just over a quarter – we still have Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, too, you know.”

“Of course; why else would a third be Gryffindors?” And with a gleeful wink, Dumbledore departed to take his seat in the Great Hall, ready to be visible for the flood of returning students.

Lord Voldemort sat back in his chair and studied the newest, and youngest, member of his Inner Circle. It perhaps wasn’t a surprise that Regulus Black had joined up – indeed, his mother had all but dragged him in front of Voldemort herself – but considering his older brother was one of Dumbledore’s pets, then it was very interesting. He would have to watch for any signs of conflicting loyalties in the boy.

But in the meantime . . . his Inner Circle were starting to shift and murmur, eager to get the meeting started.

“Roman,” he said, and the rest of the room fell silent. “What news have you had from your brother?”

A striking-looking man, with blond hair and deep brown eyes, sitting halfway down the table to Voldemort’s left got to his feet and made a half bow in Voldemort’s direction. “My broz’er arrived at ze castle yesterday,” he began, his accent proclaiming his French background. “Dumbledore ‘ad been going to assign ‘im ze position of Defence Against ze Dark Arts, but Benjamin perzuaded ‘im to give ‘im the Potions position instead.” A faint frown drew the man’s brows together. “In fact, Benjamin said it was not as ‘ard as ‘e ‘ad expected. ‘E ‘ad been prepared to ‘ave to wait until ‘e ‘ad proved ‘imself.”

“How interesting,” Voldemort mused. “I wonder what changed the old fool’s mind?”

“Excuse me, my Lord,” Augustus Rookwood began from near the other end of the table, “but it is well known at the Ministry that Dumbledore has been having trouble keeping his DADA professors for more than a year at a time. Considering Vanderhorne’s talents, perhaps he didn’t want to risk losing him.”

Voldemort smiled wickedly. That curse had been a particularly inspired one, if he did say so himself. How dare Dumbledore say he wasn’t suited for teaching? He hoped the old fool was enjoying the long parade of idiots that he did think were suitable.

“Well, no matter,” he continued, waving a hand airily. “As long as our spy is in position, it little matters what he is a professor of.” He nodded regally to Roman, and the man gracefully sat back down.

It had been a risk sending a man to Dumbledore with such an obvious Dark-sounding name. The Vanderhornes had originated in Romania, where they’d been der Hornes, migrating to Bulgaria as their ties to Durmstrang had grown – it was impossible to say precisely where the school was located, but everyone knew it was in that region somewhere – and then migrating over into France and changing their name at the start of Grindelwald’s reign. It was rumoured that they had intended to escape Grindelwald altogether by moving to Britain, and then possibly travelling overseas to America, but the British Ministry of Magic had rejected their claim for asylum, stating that they had no wish for any Dark wizards to help Grindelwald gain a foothold on British soil. So France had been as far as the Vanderhornes could get.

Thankfully, however, Benjamin’s so-obvious French accent and attitude had obviously swayed Dumbledore into thinking he wasn’t a threat.

Well, Dumbledore would eventually learn otherwise, Voldemort mused. He tapped a forefinger on the arm of his chair, and once again everyone looked at him. “How is our candidate’s Ministerial campaign coming along?” he asked Lucius, who was sitting at his right-hand side, as usual.

“Quite well, my Lord,” Lucius began, and Voldemort settled back to listen to his lieutenant’s report.

Lily stood in the living room doorway, her hands on her hips, as she watched the new addition to their household back away, hissing and spitting something that was undoubtedly rude, as her son gleefully toddled after it.

“A kneazle, Sev?” she asked, casting a baleful glance in his direction.

“It’s not like I had a choice there, Lil,” he responded, sounding exasperated. Considering this was the seventh time in an hour he’d said it, perhaps that wasn’t surprising. “If you want to blame someone, blame Harrison. He’s the one who accio’d the thing – from thirty feet away, I might add!”

“And that’s another thing,” she snapped, turning now into the kitchen where Severus was helping Lissy prepare dinner. “What if a muggle had seen him do magic?”

“Lily.” With exaggerated patience, Severus sat down the knife he’d been using before he turned to face her. “Not only did I check that there were no muggles nearby, but I put up a Notice-Me-Not. Aside from all that, though, if you can stop Harrison from doing magic – whether accidental or not – then, please, be my guest.”

“He’s only seventeen months old, Severus!” Lily exclaimed. “How hard could it be to tell him no?”

“Well, then, you’re his mother; you go tell him he can’t keep the kneazle,” Severus retorted, and turned back to his preparations, the tautness of his back and shoulders telling Lily that he was not prepared to argue with her anymore.

With a huff and a toss of her head, Lily returned to the living room, where Harrison was making a grab for the kneazle. There was a hiss, a bright light, and the kneazle was suddenly at the other end of the room.

“Kitty!” Harrison squealed, delighted with what he saw as a new game, and twisted himself around to go toddling after his new pet again. Unfortunately for him, the kneazle was now opposite the door to the living room, and within seconds, it was running past Lily and heading for the stairs.

“No, you don’t, young man,” Lily said, scooping up her son as he tried to shoulder past her legs. “Harry, we have to talk about this kneazle.”

“Mama, Kitty!” Harrison protested, pointing towards the stairs in case she missed his point. “Ha’y play wiv Kitty!”

“No, now listen to me,” she started, seating herself on the settee with Harrison on her knee. “You can’t keep that kneazle, Harry—”

“No!” Harrison folded his arms and scowled at his mother. “Kitty called to Ha’y! Ha’y play wiv Kitty!” And he began to wiggle in an attempt to get down.

Lily caught him just as he slipped off her knee, and placed him back in her lap, making sure to hold him tightly. “Harrison,” she began again.

“NO!” Harrison bellowed, and in a flash of bright light, he was suddenly gone. Gleeful shrieks and feline curses came floating down from upstairs.

“Not so hard to tell him no, huh?” Severus’ voice, filled with restrained laughter, brought Lily out of her shock. Blowing a raspberry at Severus’ back, she went to collect her errant son for another attempt at discussion.

Dinner that night was rather . . . tense, Bellatrix thought, as she looked from where Severus was smirking, to where Lily was frowning, to where Harrison was squealing and reaching, and to the cause of all the commotion, who was sitting on one of the kitchen counters, casually washing itself.

“So,” she began, slowly, “I guess we have a new member of the family?”

Lily growled. “The novelty will wear off in a few days,” she said, through gritted teeth. “Then the kneazle can go back where it came from.”

“Um-hmm,” Bellatrix hummed. With Lily obviously sulking, Bellatrix rather thought this wouldn’t be a good time to admit that the kneazle was apparently there to stay. “How’re your projects going?” she asked instead, turning to Severus.

Severus’ smirk morphed into a frown of his own. “Not well,” he admitted. “I think I’ve got most of the vaccine formula for the Dragon Pox cure, but St Mungo’s won’t let me see the actual Pox make-up. The head physician keeps saying that the Ministry won’t allow them.”

“Perhaps they just don’t want the Pox getting out?” Lily suggested, diverted from her brooding.

“I don’t see how it would,” argued Severus, putting down his knife and fork. “The healers at St Mungo’s know very well how to handle the thing, and it’s not like I want to see the actual virus. I just want to see their notes on the Pox’s make-up so I can tailor my formula to combat it. At the moment, I have a very generic vaccine, that won’t protect against anything serious!”

“I’ll check around the Mysteries tomorrow, see if I can pick up anything,” Bellatrix promised.

Severus nodded at her and picked up his cutlery again. “So how’s your job going?” he asked.

“As ever,” Bellatrix shrugged. “No-one’s disappeared in a week. We’re heading towards a new record.”

“Do people disappear . . . often?” asked Lily, faintly.

Bellatrix laughed. “Only when they touch something they shouldn’t,” she said. “As it happens, the last person to disappear was the Indian Ministry Ambassador. We think he got transported back to his home, but the trace was bouncing here, there and everywhere, so a replacement ambassador is arriving from India next week.”

“Any news about the election?” asked Severus.

“Not really, but Dumbledore is spending a lot of time on his campaign.” Bellatrix frowned. “He’s spending so much time on it that either he’s totally neglecting his work as Headmaster, or he’s using a Time-Turner.”

Lily snorted. “Probably both,” she scoffed.

“Is his campaign working?” Severus asked, frowning in concern.

Bellatrix shook her head. “I suppose that depends on your definition of ‘working’,” she replied. “If you mean is he gaining support from all the ex-Gryffindors, then yes, it’s working. If you mean is he gaining support – or even looking for it – from everyone else? Then no.”

“So he’s not likely to win,” said Lily, with a small sigh of relief.

“No,” Bellatrix agreed. “Not if he carries on like that . . . which he will.”

Severus leaned back in his chair, neatly managing to avoid a spoonful of mush accidentally flung by Harrison. “What about the other candidates?” he asked.

Tapping her fingernails on the table, Bellatrix made a small humming sound in her throat. “It’s tricky,” she said, finally. “Voldemort’s candidate is Cornelius Fudge—”

“That pompous Hufflepuff windbag?” Lily exclaimed, scandalised. “Oh, surely not!”

“He never does anything without thinking about how it’ll reflect on him,” added Severus. “Why did Voldemort choose him?”

“Because he’s easily swayed by those with money,” Bellatrix explained, giving a snort of disgust.

“So who’s the neutral candidate?” Severus wondered.

“Millicent Bagnold,” Bellatrix told him. “She’s been a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for a while now, and is hoping to improve it if she’s elected.”

A screech and an ear-splitting scraping noise interrupted them. As one, their heads shot round to see the kneazle frantically clawing at the counter in a desperate attempt to resist the accio Harrison had apparently just cast on it.

“Harrison Orion!” “Harry!” the three all shouted, in various tones of voice. The toddler, who had been reaching for his new pet with squeals of gleeful triumph, dropped his arms and turned an inquisitive, slightly guilty look on them.

“What did I tell you about grabbing for things?” Severus managed to say first, sternly.

“And what did I tell you about being gentle with that kneazle?” Lily added, frowning at her son.

Harrison’s face fell, and he stuck his lower lip out in a trembling pout. “Wanna play wiv Kitty,” he sniffed, although all three adults could see there was no shine of tears in his eyes.

“I think Kitty’s played enough for today,” said Lily, and got to her feet, reaching for Harrison. The little boy wriggled and twisted, ducking and squirming, trying to avoid his mother’s hands. “Harrison, if you don’t stop that right this instant,” Lily warned, placing her hands on her hips to scowl down at him, “then you won’t even see Kitty for a week, never mind play with him.”

Harrison stilled at once, his eyes wide and his lower lip trembling, while behind Lily, Severus and Bellatrix smirked at each other.

Lily shook her head as she hoisted Harrison up onto her hip. “I knew that kneazle was a bad idea,” she muttered, as she carted the boy off, obviously intending to put him to bed.

“Not my idea!” Severus yelled after her.

Bellatrix giggled. “Poor Harrison,” she managed, snorting softly.

“Poor Lily,” Severus corrected, but he was smiling, too. “Ah well. Even if Lil doesn’t manage to make Harrison behave, I’m sure Kitty will.”

There was a brief pause, and then the two burst out into laughter.

Mid-morning two days later found Severus and Harrison on their way to the park again. A play-date had been arranged with the Abbotts, for Harrison and their youngest daughter, who was six months older.

“My wife’s going a bit stir-crazy,” the former Hufflepuff had admitted to Severus, after carefully checking that neither Bellatrix nor Lily were in the vicinity. “Hormones, you know,” he stated, with an emphatic nod.

“Say no more!” Severus had instantly said. He well remembered just how bad Lily had gotten whilst expecting Harrison. Just the mere thought of it was still enough to make him shudder in horror, even now. Narcissa, too, had been . . . unpredictable when pregnant with Draco. He hadn’t been around Andromeda that much when she’d been carrying Nymphadora, but Severus hadn’t yet gained the courage to visit her, now that she had the grief of losing her mother added to hormones that were just gathering steam – especially since there was twice the amount, with twins.

Mrs Abbott was already at the park, her oldest child running around gleefully shrieking, whilst her youngest sat with a child-sized cauldron in front of her, stirring it with the greatest concentration. Severus smiled at the sight as he lowered Harrison to the ground beside her.

“A budding potions mistress?” he joked.

“Or a chef – she hasn’t quite decided yet,” Mrs Abbott responded, smiling in greeting. “I haven’t put any Notice-Me-Not spells up yet.” A faint blush rose in her cheeks. “I’m afraid my magic hasn’t been very reliable, lately.”

“Ah, the joys of harbouring a developing magical core,” said Severus, dryly. Lily’s magic, too, had gained some . . . interesting side-effects. Most notably on one occasion when she had cast a charm to repel any and all wildlife near her, and her magic had backfired and had the opposite effect – every single bird, creature and insect within what looked like a ten mile radius had swarmed her.

Standing up and drawing his wand, Severus was about to start casting the protection spells, when a loud squeal of brakes nearby drew his attention. It appeared a young woman had stepped off the kerb without looking properly, and the car that had just rounded the corner was going far too fast to stop in time, although the driver was making a valiant effort from the sounds of it.

Bellowing a warning, Severus began to run, subtly casting wards against the car as he went. The woman was making no move to help herself, but was rather standing still in the middle of the road, gaping at the approaching danger.

“Move, woman!” Severus yelled in frustration. The car was slowing, but not appreciably, and was still likely to hit the woman. Not wanting to see an accident if he could help it, Severus drew on all of his power that he could muster, and dived at the woman. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he toppled them both towards the safety of the pavement, his magic giving an extra push, so that the car slid by them, missing the soles of their feet by a mere quarter-inch.

They landed on the pavement with a solid thump that drove the air from Severus’ lungs, not helped by the woman falling on top of him. Instantly, a crowd surrounded them, all exclaiming and questioning, until Severus couldn’t have picked out one to answer, even if he’d been able to. The woman lay still on top of him, although since she was trembling, he thought that was shock, rather than unconsciousness.

Finally, with a great whoosh, Severus’ chest inflated again, and he coughed as air rushed in. This caused the woman he’d rescued to raise her head from his neck. Staring into her face so close, she seemed awfully familiar to Severus, but he couldn’t immediately place her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, at the same time as she did. They both stopped, blinked at each other, and then she gave a breathless laugh that seemed to trail fingertips down Severus’ spine.

“I’m just peachy,” she said, “thanks to you.” She began struggling against his arms to sit up. Once she’d propped herself up, though, she paused, staring down at him with a bemused frown and her head tilted to one side. “You look familiar,” she said, thoughtfully. “Do I know you?”

It was her accent that caused Severus to remember her. “You were looking for Delaney Street, several days ago,” he said.

“You were the person I asked for directions,” the young lady realised. She smiled at him, and Severus felt his lungs seize up again. “Thanks for that. And for this,” she added, looking around at the crowd of people.

“No problem,” Severus wheezed, and coughed again, rather forcefully. “Glad I was nearby.”

“Me, too,” the woman agreed, and shifted her weight so that she was resting on her hip beside Severus. Several of the passersby were casually touching her, yelling instructions or calling questions, but both she and Severus ignored them all. “I’m new to the area, so I was concentrating on the map I’d been given, and I’m afraid I’m not yet used to looking right when stepping off the sidewalk.”

“You’re American?” Severus asked, propping himself up on his elbows. Half of the crowd around them was starting to drift away, since there was no bloodshed for them to gawp at.

“Yeah. I came to visit my cousins, and got a job interview,” the lady explained. She suddenly looked embarrassed. “And here I’ve not even told you my name,” she tutted at herself, rolling her eyes. She held out a hand towards Severus. “I’m Madison. Madison Arwell.”

“Severus Snape,” Severus murmured, shifting enough to grip her hand briefly.

Madison looked around at the crowd, and then her gaze fixated on something over her shoulder. “Oh, dear,” she murmured, before turning to look back at Severus. Strangely, there was something that looked an awful lot like disappointment in her eyes. “I hope your wife won’t be too angry with you,” she continued.

“My what?” Severus gaped at her, then looked past her and across the road to see Mrs Abbott holding a struggling and obviously crying Harrison, her two children pressing against her. “Oh, no, that’s not . . . I’m not married,” he managed to get out. “That’s someone I met on the same day I first saw you. We arranged a play-date between her children and my . . . uh, nephew.”

“Oh!” For some reason, this seemed to cheer Madison right up, and she beamed down at him.

“Er, perhaps we should . . .” Severus began, unaccountably flustered, and started to struggle upright.

“Just take it easy, mate,” someone in the crowd around them said. “No blood, but best to let the ambulance people take a look at you.”

“Ambulance?” repeated Severus, slightly alarmed. “But we’re not—”

“Could be in shock,” an old woman on the other side of him agreed, nodding her head, sagely. “Internal injuries, and never feel ‘em.” She looked quite hopeful at the thought of one of them suddenly keeling over.

“Ah—” Severus tried again, but whatever else he was going to say was drowned out in the whooping wail of a siren. Severus groaned. The muggle ambulance had arrived.

“Severus! Oh, Sev, are you all right? What happened?” The feminine voices overlapped, as Severus was all but pounced on by Lily and Bellatrix.

“I’m fine,” he croaked, patting them both on the back in the desperate hope they’d let go. “Perfectly fine, not injured at all.” As the two women stepped back, he realised someone was missing. “Where’s the Imp?”

“Jane Abbott still has him,” Lily answered, sniffing as she perched on the bed beside Severus. “We would have brought him with us, but we thought it best not to at the moment.”

“Just in case I was bleeding?” Severus asked, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Just in case he blurted out something he shouldn’t,” corrected Bellatrix, gripping one of his hands tightly. “He’ll be glad to see you, though,” she added. “He’s probably giving Jane fits; he wouldn’t stop calling for his Papa Sev. I’m quite surprised you haven’t felt it through the bond, actually.” Bellatrix peered closely at him, as though she’d be able to see his end of the bond inside him if she stared hard enough.

“I have been,” Severus told her. “But since Harry’s not in danger, I’ve been able to ignore it.”

“Speaking of not in danger,” Lily said, resting her hand on Severus’ knee, “are you all right?”

“Told you, not a scratch,” Severus assured her, reaching out to her with his other hand. “They wanted to keep me in for observation overnight, but I’ve convinced them that if there’s no sign of any bleeding at all in the next hour, they’ll allow me to leave.”

Bellatrix reached out to grip Lily’s hand, too, and all three of them sighed in relief as their power washed through all of them in gentle waves.

“So what did happen?” asked Bellatrix, finally.

Severus grimaced. “I was just about to . . . uh, prepare the area,” he said, lowering his voice with a quick glance round at the nearby muggles, “when I heard brakes squealing. A woman stepped off the kerb without looking properly – she’s an American, and looked the wrong way – just as a car shot round the corner. It was going much too fast to stop, and she was frozen, so I went running for her. I tried to stop the car,” he added in a near whisper that Lily and Bellatrix had to lean in closer to hear, “but when that didn’t work, I just lunged at her and knocked her out of the way.”

“Is she all right?” asked Lily, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Just fine and dandy,” a voice drawled from the bottom of the bed. The trio jumped, and Lily spun around so fast she almost fell off the bed. “Sorry,” Madison continued, grinning at them. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” She glanced at where the three were still clasping hands, and raised her eyebrows.

“My sisters,” Severus hastened to tell her. “Lily and Bellatrix.”

“Madison Arwell,” Madison said, nodding at the other women. “Pleased to meet you.”

“And you,” said Bellatrix. Her eyes glazed over briefly, and then she grinned wickedly at Severus, who stifled a groan. “Very pleased, in fact.”

Lily rolled her eyes and smiled at Madison. “I’m glad to hear that you weren’t injured, either,” she said, letting go of Bellatrix’s hand.

“Me, too. Teach me to pay more attention,” Madison agreed. “I still haven’t quite got the hang of looking the wrong way before crossing,” she admitted in a stage-whisper, rolling her eyes at herself.

“Well, at least Severus was there to rescue you,” Bellatrix said. She tilted her head to one side, eyeing Madison.

“Yeah, I’m still amazed at that,” said Madison. “I mean, I know it all happened so fast anyway, but man, you seemed to get there so fast,” she added to Severus. “It was like . . . magic!”

Severus felt a cold tingle go down his spine, and he laughed, uneasily. “Like magic, huh?” he managed.

Madison laughed as well. “I know, I know,” she chortled, waving a hand dismissively. “Sounds corny as all get out, but it’s either that, or call you Superman.”

“Well, that at least starts with the same letter as Severus,” Lily teased, laughing when Severus gave her a nudge with his leg under the bedcovers.

“Uh-oh. I think the doctor discovered my escape. How long are they keeping you in for?” the American asked.

“If there’s no bleeding in an hour, then they’re letting me go home,” Severus told her.

“Really?” asked Madison, surprised. “Wow, what spell did you cast to get them to agree to that?” And she laughed out loud at her own joke.

“Heh. No spell,” said Severus, weakly. “Just persuasion.”

“Man, wish I could be that persuasive,” Madison said, mournfully. “They’re keeping me overnight. Oh, well.” She sighed, and shrugged her shoulders as though dismissing the problem. “Thanks again, Severus. Hopefully if I see you again, it’ll be during something less dangerous.” And with a wave, she was heading out through the double doors.

Severus instantly turned to Bellatrix. “What did you see?” he asked, urgently.

“It’s a good thing Harry likes the park,” she said, obliquely. Severus groaned and covered his face with his hands, as Lily looked from one to the other. It appeared that this wasn’t the last he’d seen of the American woman, and from Bellatrix’s expression, he was obviously going to see a lot more of her. If only there wasn’t one small, tiny problem.

Madison Arwell . . . was a muggle.