"Blood faeries!" gasped Lyrica. "They're not indigenous to this part of the world. Whatever were they doing in the Forbidden Forest, Severus?"

Severus shook his head and stared at the flames. "Should we find the way back to our time, that is a question I intend to find out. As to what they were doing, I've no doubt they had nested amongst the grove of dead trees and seeing us as intruders upon their territory, they attacked."

Lyrica waved her hand over the tea service and it vanished. Snape noted the expert use of wandless magic. "Do you think it possible that the curious property of the the Vohlfayr to travel a few seconds ahead of their prey was the catalyst for sending you back in time?"

"Catalyst? I'm not certain, but no doubt it was part of the cause. I distinctly recall seeing Miss Granger with her wand out just as I cast a defensive shield." Snape sighed. "It will be a difficult puzzle to unravel."

Lyrica leaned forward. It appeared she was about to place her hand upon his arm, but she halted the action quick enough that her finger barely brushed the fabric of his sleeve. "I hope that what we have in our library will be enough to help in your research, Master Snape. I cannot begin to imagine what strides there have been in time travel between 1898 and 1994."

"Unless the Department of Mysteries is hiding something from us, then the farthest we've gotten is the Time Turner." Remarked Snape. "In short, none."

"I must admit to curiosity as to what you were thinking of in bringing children into the Forbidden Forest. Even we adults dare not cross the wards alone."

Snape's right eyebrow arched slightly. "Wards? Do you have warding spells in place around the forest?"

Lyrica paused a moment before replying. "We do. Quite strong ones. They've been in place for a little over two centuries. The Wizengamot Gathering of 1720 decided to put the wards in place, partly to protect the Muggle population on the other side of the forest, but also to keep in its inhabitants. Do you not have wards in place in your time?"

Snape shook his head and quickly brushed at an obstinate lock of dark hair that fell across his eye. "I do not ever recall a time when the forest was warded. A constant reminder when I was a student and now is that the forest is strictly off limits unless one is escorted by a teacher." Snape did not elaborate upon the fact that the class of Care of Magical Creatures took place just on the outer edge of the forest. Suddenly he began drumming his fingers upon the arm of his chair as a thought coalesced in his mind. "Professor Arcahnum, the wards in place... would one of them be a simple deflection ward?" Snape wondered if the side-apparition he'd cast had also been at fault. It had been risky, but he was rather skilled.

"Of course," she replied just as a pop sounded behind them. A table laden with a modest selection of food and drink appeared just behind them. "Ah, a late night meal from our tireless elves! Are you hungry, Master Snape?"

As the aroma of roast and steaming vegetables tickled his nostrils, he discovered he was a little hungry. With a nod to the headmistress he rose from his chair in front of the fire just as she conjured two chairs. She indicated that he was to seat himself and while he served himself, she poured some wine into a glass for him. Placing the crystal glass before him, she then took a warm roll and seated herself across from him.

Snape felt himself suddenly conscious of her eyes upon him. He had just scooped up some of the mixed vegetables when he felt a familiar energy in the air. His eyes met hers and he kept his expression like stone. The headmistress may have been shouting for all the finesse she was showing in her attempt to use Legilimency upon him. Before she could even finish casting the spell silently he had already countered with a much more forceful use of Occlumency. As soon as Lyrica felt the sharp block to her Legilimens spell, she lowered her eyes and tore a piece from the bread roll she held.

"You must forgive the attempt, Master Snape," she said softly as she placed the piece of bread into her mouth, chewed it and swallowed. She had not looked up, yet, but she could feel the dark look of his gaze upon her; the force placed behind his counter was comparable to a physical slap. The man was insulted by her stumbling intrusion. "Think, Master Snape, a man has access to my office fireplace, has four children with him and tells a wondrous story of time travel, Blood Fae and Star Moss blooms and I, custodian of Hogwarts, its staff and children, am to take him at his word?"

Lyrica then raised her eyes and challenged him. "It is not my intention to be rude, sir, but I take my duty as the headmistress of this school seriously. I would prefer to believe you, but you must understand my caution."

Snape had to concede that Lyrica was within her right to verify what he said. His expression relaxed, but only a little. The woman's beauty and charm were a formidable spell, but he could not let the slight go so easily. "It is a difficult story to ask anyone to believe, Professor Arcahnum. However, I must be a strict guardian with the knowledge here," he tapped his right temple lightly, "in order to preserve our future. I cannot allow you within my thoughts without some warning."

The abashment was a subtle one; much more subtle than she would have received from the teacher who'd taught her the Legilimens. It was enough to cause her cheeks to bloom with a rosy shade of embarrassment. Lyrica knew that he could provide her with any false thought he wished and she would not know it for its deception or truth as he was certainly more skilled in Occlumency. Nodding deferentially to him, she conceded her faux pas.

"I shall take your story as truth, Master Snape." Lyrica smiled wryly as she now had no choice but to trust Snape. "I am more skilled with my potions than I am with Legilimens."

Snape nodded and ate a forkful of vegetables. He then spoke, "I hope in time, Professor Arcahnum, that you will come to accept that I shall always offer you the truth. As long as I do not jeopardize our future." He then lifted his glass of wine toward her and took an appreciative sip.

"Indulge my curiosity if you would, Madam, I noticed a book upon your shelf by Darlyle Grailing. Was the man, by any chance, your mentor for your masters in Potions?"

Thankful to take the discussion away from her aborted Legilimens, she was also intrigued by his astute observations and conclusion. "He was. I apprenticed with him, but not right away. To the chagrin of my parents I could not decide upon a career in Enchantment, Potions or Herbology. My Enchantment mentor ended my apprenticeship when, according to his words, I had less skill than an Antipodean Opaleye dragon and the attention span of a Diricawl." She chuckled and poured herself some wine. "In less time then it could take for me to dwell on the insult, my father had me apprenticed to Master Grailing with the admonishment that I had better keep my nose in my books and concentrate upon my future."

"How did you find your apprenticeship?" asked Snape slicing the roast he had on his plate.

"It was wonderful! When I was a student at Hogwarts I'd had a fascination for potions. There was a gracefulness, a rhythm to the creation of a potion that I found... lyrical." Her head dipped as she blushed slightly. "In working with Master Grailing I also found that my love of herb lore was indulged. He taught me to appreciate fresh ingredients over those prepared by another. It is a philosophy I maintain to this day. If I choose to remain as the headmistress of Hogwarts then I shall plant my own herb garden."

Snape finished his slice of roast and washed the last of it down with his wine. "Is there a possibility you'll leave this post?" he inquired with interest. Perhaps this was the reason her portrait did not appear on the wall of Dumbledore's office.

"This is my first year as Headmistress and it was an unexpected appointment. My plans were to take a position at St. Mungo's as head of their Potions Department." She shifted uneasily. "I believe it is my family name, only, that the Ministry desires as head of Hogwarts. You see, my father was to take the position, but he died this summer."

A name from history and one he'd heard from the lips of Lucius Malfoy hit his memory. Of course, Snape thought to himself, as he mentally smacked his head. Her father was Ebenezer Arcahnum, a very ambitious wizard of this time's wizarding age. An aristocrat who desired power and whose ideas were part of the foundation of a certain Dark Lord of Snape's acquaintance had. In 1898 the Ministry was just beginning to get undermined by those with more than just ambitions of power. The prejudice growing amongst pureblood families found seed in the likes of one such as Ebenezer Arcahnum. If he remembered his history, the term "Mudblood" originated with Arcahnum who had been quite vocal in his prejudice. Such dislike, no hatred, had flourished with the likes of the Malfoys, the Blacks, and even his own mother's family, the Princes. A wave of hate was a palpable thing and it was no wonder that a wizard of Voldemort's ilk had seized upon it to sculpt himself in the form of one of the most Dark Wizards of history.

Snape wanted to express his condolences for the woman's loss, but in all honesty, he could not find it within himself to do so. Before he could say anything, Lyrica's next words caught him off guard.

"I have no wish to carry on my father's legacy, Master Snape. I am not the sword to divide, but am a healer to unite. As much love as I do have for Hogwarts, I am... uncertain as to my role here. I believe by the end of the year I shall know what I want."

At that moment there came a knock on the office door. Lyrica finished the last of her wine, stood and went over to the door. She opened it slightly, but did not allow the visitor in. Snape listened to the brief exchange as he ate.

"Mr. Dumbledore, have you gotten our young guests settled in their rooms?" she asked. Snape almost choked when he heard the name.

"They're all set, Professor. The elves should be sending something for them to eat and drink probably about now. Is there anything else that you need?" The voice was younger, perhaps even a pitch higher, but Snape clearly recognized it.

"You may retire for the evening, then. Thank you and good night, Mr. Dumbledore."

"Goodnight, Professor Arcahnum."

Lyrica waited a moment and then closed the door quietly. Raising the hem of her gown, she made her way back to the table.

"That boy..." Snape asked worriedly, "By chance is his first name Albus?"

Lyrica noted a brief flicker of worry cross the man's features. "It is. How did you know?"

Snape slapped his fork down angrily against the surface of the table. "Bloody Merlin!" growled Snape.