Any potions master will tell you that a lab should always be buried beneath the ground. The low light provided by torch, candle and firelight along with the coolness of the earth served to enhance the magic of the ingredients and the tools used in the creation of potions.

The potions laboratory at Ashmere was buried deep beneath the house and accessed by a narrow staircase just barely wide enough for one person. The staircase curved slightly in a few spots but finally ended upon a rough floored landing before a tall, wide double door of very thick oak. Lyrica removed the wards and heavy lock. She then used her entire body weight to push both doors open. Casting a light spell, torches in iron sconces upon the walls came to fiery life and illuminated the laboratory.

As Severus stepped into the long, wide room he was silently in awe, and quite jealous as well. His private lab at Hogwarts had been carefully put together and laid out to his precise and exacting specifications. However, it came nowhere near to what Lyrica had fashioned beneath Ashmere house.

The walls were rough granite. A smaller door, almost directly across from the entrance, was flanked by two, ceiling height, glass-fronted shelves containing a myriad of potions that could be stored indefinitely. The door itself appeared deeply sunk into the stone wall and was iron. It shimmered with the heavy wards that sealed it. No doubt that was a storage room for rare and dangerous ingredients for potions, and possibly acted as a storage room for any potions created that generally shouldn't fall into the hands of a novice.

The walls of the lab were all lined with shelves that contained books, ingredients and supplies. The only wall free of shelves was covered with various parchment charts and diagrams. Nearby was a chalkboard that held the remnants of a recent potions experiment. To the right of the chalkboard was a wide, heavy desk of black oak that was neat except for two potions journals.

At the opposite ends of the lab were work tables that were duplicates of the one Lyrica had in her private room at Hogwarts. The pedestals of each table were of heavily carved, dark stained oak that held a thick slab of unpolished marble. One table was black marble, the other was white. The floor of the room was more unpolished marble in a checkerboard pattern of black and white. The floor was heavily stained in places, a usual hazard of a potions laboratory.

From the ceiling hung a variety of bundled herbs that were drying. Their many aromas mingled with the earthy odor of the underground room, giving it a pleasant atmosphere.

Lyrica watched as Severus moved about the room, critically inspecting the devices, the books, and the finished potions. She was quite proud of her lab and enjoyed showing it to someone who understood and appreciated the art of potions making. He paused at a tall shelf that held a variety of cauldrons made out of various materials and of various sizes. His eyes settled, almost greedily, upon one cauldron that was silvery white with a sheen of irridescence to it.

"That can't be..." he gasped as he lifted the cauldron from its space.

"Rhenium. Very rare." Lyrica walked over to the shelf of cauldrons. "It belonged to my great-great grandfather Alaric Arcahnum." She took the cauldron from his hands and gently returned it to its spot. "I've rarely had use for it, but I keep it here in the lab for sentimental reasons."

"It is a true treasure, Lyrica. I have heard of rhenium cauldrons but never chanced to see one." They were both silent as he went to scan the books and then to review the many charts.

"You're a privileged soul, Severus," she said with a smile. He glanced inquiringly over his shoulder. "I have never let anyone else in here."

"Not even your house elves?" he teased.

"Certainly not! I have the utmost trust in their skills, but my potions master taught me the importance of taking care of one's own lab and that includes clean up." She leaned thoughtfully against the edge of the white marble work table. "There is a fundamental peace I find in taking care of my lab. The gathering of ingredients not to be found at an apothecary, the scouring of cauldrons," a mischievous glint sparked in her green eyes, "and the cleaning of experiments gone awry."

Severus glanced up at the ceiling, a usual place of deposit for potion disasters. It revealed the stain of many such disasters and he chuckled to himself. He turned and regarded this remarkable woman who managed to stir devotion in him so quickly. He understood precisely what she was describing. Working in his lab and keeping it to his exact specifications was often the only balm he had when his thoughts were troubled by the machinations of Voldemort and the dangerous game he played.

His voice echoed gently off the stone walls as he spoke, "I have found such peace in my lab as well and oddly enough, in my classroom, too. The students can be annoying lunkheads who destroy more cauldrons and ingredients than I care to inventory, but all it takes is one student that has that spark of talent and the shadows that haunt our world are momentarily lifted."

"I would guess that one student is Miss Granger?"

He smirked wryly. "A Gryffindor, can you imagine? She talks too much, she's bossy and an inveterate know-it-all who can irritate me to the point of distraction. However, the girl has a brilliant mind and I've no doubt that should she ever decide her career is in potions, she will surpass even my skill."

"Does Miss Granger know you hold her in such high esteem?"

"I am not one to praise students." He scowled lightly. "To coddle or encourage my students in any manner is not a trait I am permitted in my time. My students consider me a git, a bat, and in some minds, the epitome of evil." He looked beyond Lyrica toward 1994. He wasn't evil, but he was too close to true evil. Touching his left forearm, he felt a chill that wasn't from this underground lab. "For them and for myself, it is safer."

"More puzzles, Severus?" she shook her head ruefully. Lyrica drifted over to him and he watched as she approached. He enjoyed the grace and elegance in her bearing. In her scarlet dress and black robes, she was a vision of queenly beauty. She enfolded herself so that one arm of his wrapped around her as one of her arms rested around his waist.

"These shadows, Severus, they haunted you that night and caused you pain." She had caught the brief motion he'd made toward his forearm. "That mark... it's cruel, but I see no such cruelty or evil in you."

He brushed his lips to her forehead. He had a desperate desire to confide in Lyrica. To voice his fears, to express his hopes, but he was tied by the future they dared not disturb. He knew his heart would break... he couldn't finish the thought and he drew her tighter into his embrace and kissed her. It was a brief kiss, but sweet and full of longing.

Severus answered her question, reluctantly. "In my youth I made some unfortunate decisions. This," he parted from her and raised his sleeve to reveal the horrid dark mark that appeared on his skin like a deep burn. "is a reminder of my... sins." Lyrica stretched out her fingers to touch the vile mark, but he covered it quickly.

"I wish," she began softly, "that you would accept defeat and stay here, Severus. Raise the children as your own and live free of that dark future." The cold darkness in his soul rose to his eyes and she spoke rapidly. "I do not know what awaits you and I do not ask that you reveal anything to me. But I must be honest with you and what I've seen. You are a man caught between the light and the dark and should the light prevail, I am terrified it may only do so at great sacrifice."

Severus had drawn away as Lyrica spoke. "I chose my destiny, Lyrica, with the full knowledge that it would someday mean my death." The anguish was tight in his voice. "Everyday that we remain in your world makes it more difficult for me to honor the vow I made. I am all too aware that I have let my guard down. What I am here, in front of you, I cannot be in my time. It is a vulnerability my enemies would exploit to not only bring about my death but the deaths of those children."

She grasped his arm. "Then I do not understand, Severus. Forget the future! Save yourself and those children. Would that not fulfill your vow?"

Severus took her hand from his arm. "No, Lyrica, it would not. If I stayed I would become a haunted man because I would never know if those who relied upon me were swallowed by those shadows. Until I know the way home is lost to us forever, I have a duty to them, to myself, and to those we left behind in the future to keep trying." Why do you continue to tempt me? Do you wish me to fall... to fall so far that all I care about is you? He closed his eyes against her green-eyed gaze.

"Please, Severus, do forgive me. I was being selfish." She touched her fingertips to his cheek and slowly he opened his eyes. "You have become very important to me. I, too, would be haunted, Severus."

Severus Snape was torn between two worlds, this quiet life with Lyrica whose kisses held every hope and dream he'd ever dared permit himself against the evil of the Dark Lord. How easy it would be to turn his back up Albus Dumbledore's trust. He drew Lyrica back into his arms, feeling her body against his. She fit so well against him. Cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand, he bent down to brush his lips to her. Soft and full... daring, as the tip of her tongue lanced against his upper lip. His hand traced the gentle curve of her spine as he drew her closer. Temptation. He wanted this.

"Professor Snape!"