Lyrica's manner and body language was that of a woman who had been raised since birth with courtly manners, and the knowledge that a woman was secondary in status to a man. Women in the aristocracy of the Wizarding world were charming companions to their husband, proper hosts to guests, ran the home, gave birth to sons, and were bargaining chips in pureblood familial alignment. Severus mused that this archaic tradition, though changing, was still to be found in some of the older pureblood families in his century. A tradition that the Dark Lord would have no problem reviving if he were to win.

There was a spark in the young woman, a hint of rebelliousness. She kept it clearly under control and was willing to subdue it, if the situation called for it. Severus had seen this small bit of fire right after her attempt to Legilimens him. He found it appealing and hoped to see more of this.

Turning those thoughts quietly over in his mind, Severus observed that Lyrica was of age to have been contracted in an arranged marriage. Had her father's death freed her from such a contract, or had he not had time to negotiate one?

"Lyrica," Severus began, "if your father had lived to take this post of headmaster, would you now be at St. Mungo's?"

They had come to a washed out portion of the path and Severus stepped down, then turned to offer his hand to the headmistress for assistance. She hesitated briefly and then took his hand as she stepped carefully over the break in the path. Once steady, she quickly let go of his hand.

"If that's too personal a question..." he said uneasily as she had not yet replied.

Lyrica walked slightly ahead of him. "As a Potions Mistress my skills would provide me with a status suitable to Phineas Black, the only unmarried son of Phineas Nigellus Black. Baron Black has lofty plans for his son and I would have been... an agreeable match. It was an alliance my father had long been waiting for. However, my skills are status only, and for the home I would have been to run. Employment at St. Mungo's would not have been encouraged." She stepped carefully over some loose stones. "I am fortunate that with my father's death, Baron Black did not feel it necessary to enforce the contract." She had stopped on the path just as it evened out and crossed her arms over herself. The breeze blew a stray strand of hair over her face, but she did not move to brush it away. As Severus moved to stand beside her, he could see she was smiling. "I am a woman allowed to make my own choices now, Severus." She gave him a sidelong glance and whispered, "I hope I make the right ones."

Lyrica veered suddenly off the path and for a moment Severus watched as she crouched down to pluck a few of the Autumn flowers that dotted the landscape. He watched with interest as she plucked a wild violet close to the ground and pinched off any portion of the root that had come up. She then shook the flower and leaves to brush off insects and dirt and tucked the flower into her palm as she repeated the motions with another wild violet. Severus appreciated the rhythm in which she worked and was slightly startled when she addressed him.

"How has your research gone this morning, Severus?" she asked while stretching for another of the wild violets.

"Not as well as I'd hoped." Lyrica glanced back at him and with her empty hand, she motioned him to join her. Stepping off the path, he was soon crouched beside her. Lyrica indicated he should harvest the white snakeroot by his knee. While he did so, he explained, "I spent far too much time disciplining the boys. They make very poor research assistants." Severus sharply tugged upward on the wildflower, bringing a length of its spindly root out of the ground. He tapped his fingers against the root to remove the loose dirt and then harvested another.

"Perhaps they've yet to understand the seriousness of the situation they are in." Lyrica carefully pocketed the violets she'd picked. For a brief moment she glanced sideways at him. The pale light of day glanced off of a pale scar upon her cheek. Seeing his eyes settle upon the scar, she covered it with her hand, and turned her attention back to the violets.

Severus turned his gaze away from the scar and groused, "They seem to view this as another adventure." Severus examined the white snakeroot he'd harvested and brushed off an insect before handing the flowers to the headmistress. While she pocketed the wildflower, he rose to his feet. He offered his hand to help her up.

Lyrica hesitated once more before taking Severus' hand. This time he noticed the hesitancy. After a few more seconds the headmistress took his hand and he helped her to her feet. As soon as she let go, Lyrica busied her hands with pulling her robes closer to her and picking up the hem of her skirt. She returned to the path and began to ascend slowly.

Severus paused briefly, wondering about Lyrica's reluctance to being touched. The scar. Both clues to behavior he was well acquainted with. Could Ebenezer Arcahnum...?

"Severus," she asked as he fell into step beside her. "What do you know of the Vohlfayr?"

"Beyond the fact that the Blood Fae are well-named and have the ability to move a few seconds ahead of their prey, I've only known them as a myth. They figure mainly in teaching stories a parent tells to a child to warn them of the dangers of wandering too far from home." For a moment, he thought back to the stories his mother told him. He chose to reveal this small bit of knowledge to the headmistress. "My parents and I lived in one of the wizarding muggle communities when I was a child. To protect me and to remind me that it could be dangerous revealing who and what we were to... outsiders... she would tell me a story of Vohlfayr that protected Muggles by killing little wizard children." He glanced over at Lyrica's look of horror. He shrugged. "The story served its purpose, for a time. I became very wary of Muggles, especially those who lived near us. It gave me... a rather... isolated childhood." Leaving the memory quickly behind, he concluded, "To my knowledge, there has not been a nest of the Vohlfayr seen for several centuries."

Lyrica sensed the difficulty Severus had in revealing such an intimate detail of his past. It was awful knowing that he'd been raised with the use of such fear to keep him in line. As he returned the subject back to the real Vohlfayr, she respected the small gift of his memory and put it aside, along with any sympathy.

She spoke matter of factly, "You might want to look for the book The Origins of Vampirism by Abraham Van Helsing. He made quite a study of the origins of vampirism and his research, as outlined in this book. It was the study of a large nest of the Vohlfayr in Germany in 1822. His father and grandfather had both been dedicated to ridding the world of the Vampyr, yet their efforts were... ineffectual and not to mention altogether brutal. Innocents paid the price of their superstition, as well. It was Abraham who felt that in order to rid the world of vampirism, it must be studied and understood; its origins had to be discovered. Abraham's theory was that normal wizards or witches were infected by the bite of the Vohlfayr and were the carriers amongst the Wizarding world. In the Muggle world, vampires are a rarity."

Lyrica paused in her lecture as they had just come to the beginning of the path down the slope they'd been walking on. She was looking toward the magnificent castle that was Hogwarts. Taking in a breath of the cool Autumn air, she continued. "Abraham then began developing potions to help those stricken from the bite of the Blood Fae. The potions were to eradicate the Blood Fae and to cure the victims. There was, though, little help for the Muggles. Those afflicted Muggles, fortunately, did not have the fabled long life of the vampire."

"It apears I've been remiss in my Wizarding History," mused Severus.

"I am curious, though, how did the Blood Fae get past your wards?" Lyrica had turned back to face him and saw Severus glance toward the Forbidden Forest.

"Wards?" asked Severus with a frown.

"Do you not have the Forbidden Forest secured by warding spells?" Lyrica asked.

Severus shook his head. "I have never known it to be warded."

"We have very heavy wards around the forest, both to protect unwary Muggles from stumbling into it and to protect the inhabitants. The centaurs help us to maintain the wards."

"Deflection wards?" asked Severus. Lyrica merely nodded. "That may be why we wound up behind the Leaky Cauldron instead of in the Forbidden Forest."

They continued their walk toward the castle as Lyrica changed the subject. "Severus, I realize it's far too soon to think of such a thing, but if there is not a way back to your time...?"

Severus shook his head once, sharply. "It is not something I can consider, Professor Arcahnum." Lyrica just briefly caught the hint of urgency... or fear cross his features. "I can only say that it is of the utmost importance for us to return to our future; to our fate. This I must concentrate on until I know for certain there is no chance of returning home."

As he spoke, his tone of voice had devolved into the cold dismisiveness his students were most familiar with. For Lyrica, it was a tone of voice she'd heard often as she grew up. When she replied, her voice held little emotion. "Then so I must aid you to the best of my ability, Master Snape."

As Lyrica walked ahead of him, her spine stiff and ramrod straight, he had the sense that he had offended the headmistress. He had not meant his reply to be so cold, but how could he reveal to her that in such a short time, a very short time, he would do anything not to have to return to Fate and whatever destiny had in mind for him? His right hand strayed to his left forearm, all too conscious of the mark of Voldemort. Remembered pain pulsed like an obscene lover's touch over the mark and his heart skipped a beat in fear as he wondered, just briefly, if it were possible for the Dark Lord to summon him in this peaceful past.

Impossible, his mind sneered at him, it is only a memory. He forced his right hand to his side and began walking. The headmistress had yet to slow her pace and she was almost to the castle.