The Unbreakable Vow was something that Snape refused to let anyone jump into. He had insisted that they wait a week and if all four of them agreed, he would perform the ritual for them. Draco was without doubt in his conviction to accept the Unbreakable Vow. Hermione had pledged her friendship and that meant more to him as each day passed. He did not want to risk losing her friendship, or her. Ever.

Hermione had listened as Snape and the three boys had talked about the Unbreakable Vow. She knew exactly what that meant having read about them in her first year. Her silence wasn't a silence of acceptance and Snape, who understood that silence from this particular student could only mean trouble, wisely chose the end of the discussion as his cue to leave. Hermione's scathing indignation toward the boys hit him just as he hit the entry.

Snape shook his head. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I almost feel sorry for you both." With a sneer, he returned to his potions. If there were a body or two, to be disposed of later, he'd help Miss Granger with that before dinner.

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE?" Hermione leapt up from her desk, not even caring that the old tome she had been reading was jarred from its surface and landed on the floor.

"Hermione, it's perfect. Don't you see...?" Harry ducked for cover behind Malfoy as the very scary, bushy-haired mad woman lunged for him. Draco caught her.

"Perfect? You think it's perfect for Draco to risk death the next time he calls me mudblood? You're an evil, selfish..."

"Hermione!" The young girl was nearly pushing Draco backwards as he held her shoulders in her hands; she was furious. "Ron!" Draco snapped at the all too quiet redhead.

"It was my idea!" shouted Ron.

"You?" Hermione whirled and her fist shot out, catching Ron's cheek.

"Ow!" Ron scrambled away as Hermione struck out blindly with her fist. Draco reached for her and touched her waist; she spun and socked him in the belly. With a hiss of air, Draco doubled over.

"Hermione Jean Granger! That is no behavior for a lady of breeding!" The thunderous shout stopped Hermione from punching anyone else, and caused Ron, Harry and Draco to huddle together in case her fists went flying, again.

King Henry had heard the indignant shouting and now stood towering over the young lady in question. His shout, one of those that tended to rattle bone and flesh, had almost melted her anger. She was frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a Muggle automobile as she stared up at the very tall, broad ghost.

"Gentlemen, move to the far corner. Now." The boys didn't hesitate and scrambled to secure themselves into the corner by the large fireplace. King Henry's voice was much quieter, softer. "Feel free to strike me, if the need arises, young lady. Now, explain to me what has risen your ire to such a state that Cromwell is spinning in his tomb."

"An Unbreakable Vow," she seethed as her eyes settled on Harry and Ron. "Those two idiots distrust Draco so much they think that only his death will keep me safe."

Henry scowled, puzzled. "They wish to sacrifice your young man? I hadn't thought you were Druids." He scratched his beard thoughtfully.

"No, of course not," she amended. "If someone breaks an Unbreakable Vow, they die. Ron and Harry feel that Draco's only playing with me and once we get back home, he'll become the slimy snake he once was, and hurt me."

The ghost turned to the boys. "I can appreciate the merit of such a vow, but that seems a bit extreme." He glowered as he floated toward them and then settled his gaze upon Draco until the boy began to squirm uneasily under the intensity. "I can see the truth in young Draco." He peered even closer and Draco jerked back, smacking his head into Ron's chin. "There is nothing but honor in his soul toward the lady." Henry then peered at Ron and Harry. "Is the word of a spirit enough to satisfy?"

Ron was more than ready to agree with the ghost, as long as it kept his usually loud voice down to a dull roar. Harry had to be the stubborn one, though, and quite firmly made his point.

"I don't trust Malfoy as far as I can Expelliarmus him."

Draco glanced over his shoulder at Harry and gave him a long-suffering glare. Harry just returned the glare with a sneer.

Hermione spoke up firmly, "He's not going to make that vow, Harry. If we go back to our time, Draco will have to hurt me. He isn't going to be able to show me any favor. Don't you understand, Harry, his father would kill him, or worse."

"What could be worse than death?" asked Ron. Then he got it. "Ohhhh, yeah. HIM."

"He could get you killed, Hermione," Harry tried one last time.

"Yes, he could. So could you, so could Ron. Even Professor Snape could get me killed. It's what we have to face. I know it's hard for you to trust Draco, Harry, and Ron, I know you're only trying to look out for me, but I'm not going to let you tie him up in a Vow that's so restrictive it could harm all of us." Hermione walked over and stood beside Henry as she eyed each of the boys. "If you can't trust Draco, then you'll have to trust me." Hermione reached out her hand toward Draco and he took it. "I trust Draco. You'll have to accept that."

Draco, although very good in his classes, still managed every now and then to show he wasn't the brightest wand in the bunch. He took this moment to turn to Harry and Ron, flash them a smug grin and say, "She trusts me!"

Hermione would have slapped Draco, but Henry beat her to it and whacked the boy on the back of his head. "Bloody hell!" he snapped. "Would everybody stop hitting my head?"

Perfectly timed, Ron and Harry both smacked Draco in the back of the head and dashed, laughing, out of the library.

"I'm going to kill both of you!" shouted Draco.

"Draco!" Hermione's shout was half afraid he'd do it and half hoping he was kidding.

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Only temporarily. I promise." With that he propelled himself out of the library after Ron and Harry.

"Boys!" fumed Hermione. How had they gone from a serious conversation about a very serious subject to a Three Stooges sketch?

Henry patted her head. "Get used to it, child. We never grow out of it." He chuckled and drifted through a bookcase, vanishing.

There was peace in Ashmere for a few more weeks as Halloween was approaching. Snape had finally been talked into allowing the teenagers the weekends off from classes and research. The idea of taking them separately was clearly out of the question but a day in either Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade was something all of them could look forward to.

As for the Unbreakable Vow, as far as Hermione was concerned, that subject was closed. Draco, though, was still considering it. After her declaration, he did not discuss his thoughts with her. He did do some research on vows and oaths, but found himself still confused. He needed to talk to Snape. Alone.

Getting Snape alone wasn't as easy as it sounded. The only times when Snape wasn't supervising, teaching, or researching with one or all of them around him was when Snape was in the lab, grading essays, or spending time with Lyrica. Since the lab was off limits Draco decided he would talk to Snape when his weekly essay grading time came up.

Teaching at Hogwarts meant an endless supply of essays for any instructor to be grading. One could cancel all classes for a day, sit down at 8am in the morning to begin grading essays and 24 hours later hardly a dent would be made in the work. Snape would never admit it, but he enjoyed having to teach only four students. Grading essays was a once a week project that he tackled on Fridays after dinner. By the time the teenagers were off to bed, he'd be finished and would have a few hours brewing time or time to read before his own bed called to him.

He found it interesting that he actually liked teaching Ron, Harry, Draco and Hermione. The intimacy of their small group meant he had more time to devote to each of them as he demonstrated the practical side of their lessons. Not only did Hermione ask her usual dearth of questions, but the boys were asking intelligent questions as well. Ron's handwriting had improved greatly and instead of his sentences slanting down the parchment, they were in much better alignment. Draco was doing much better at concluding his essays instead of allowing his thoughts to drop off when the requisite length had been reached. Harry's thoughts on paper had also shown more improvement; he was more organized and expressing himself well. Snape's triumph, though, was in finally breaking Hermione of the habit of helping her fellow students when all she was providing them with was a crutch. It decreased her workload and stress level, and for Ron and Harry, their practical work improved remarkably.

Grading essays had always been a migraine catalyst for Snape, but he found, in his four students, another aspect that made him appreciate teaching. Their personalities showed well in their writing. Hermione was meticulous, but she always showed a creative side to her thinking that provided them with interesting experiments to try out in subsequent classes. Ron had a wry sense of humour that he managed to insert into his essays despite whatever the subject matter was. It had shocked him the first time that he'd laughed out loud as Ron compared the scent of a bad potion to his sister's extraordinarily bad peppermint pie. Snape always saved Ron's essays for last to grade. Draco's essays showed he was someone who liked to solve problems. More than likely, if a mistake was made, it was Draco who discovered the solution first. If he couldn't find the solution, or work it out on parchment, his short temper showed through as well. Finally, Harry's essays showed his enthusiasm for magic. Snape had always thought that Harry tended to be rather scattered with his thoughts and observations, but with the attention he was now able to give to Harry's work, the way the boy wrote made more sense to Snape. He learned that if he followed the line of thought carefully through the labyrinth of side observations, Harry unerringly made the point he was after.

Draco had planned all day to speak to Snape. When dinner ended and they were dismissed for the evening, Draco followed everyone to the parlor while Snape retired to the library for grading. Harry and Ron began a game of chess. The king arrived in the parlour not long after the chess game had begun. For a few minutes he studied the game, and then made his way to Hermione. Both Draco and Hermione had their noses in books. Draco, of course, wasn't reading a single word. Earlier in the day Draco asked the King to distract Hermione for the evening so he could easily slip off to talk to Snape without Hermione following him.

"A dragon told me that you wished to discuss the tragic legend of the Two Princes in the Tower." He leaned over and glowered. "I do hope you aren't another who believes that my father secured his hold on the throne by... doing away with those two boys, are you?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she gulped. "Uhm, no, sir. I just wanted to know..."

The King winked conspiratorially at Draco and continued, "To be blunt, Miss Granger, my father had to secure his throne. His wife wasn't enough, not with her two younger brothers still alive." That was enough of a hook for Hermione and she and the King were soon in a heated discussion over the final fate of the Two Princes.

Draco made his way out of the parlour and in a few steps was standing in the doorway of the library. Snape sat at the large desk, the essays in front of him, a pot of red ink to his right, and a large mug of coffee to his left.

"Professor?" Snape's quill didn't stop. "I need to talk to you, sir."

Snape pointed with the quill toward a nearby chair. He then put down the quill, took a drink of his coffee and allowed Draco to broach the subject of whatever was bothering him.

"I've been doing some research on vows and oaths, professor..."

"I thought Miss Granger had convinced everyone of the folly of you taking an Unbreakable Vow," he remarked evenly.

"Actually, she told everyone I'm not taking it."

Snape smiled slightly. "Strong-minded Gryffindor, that one."

Draco nodded solemnly. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure I don't want to take it, but I still think I ought to do something. I considered a wand oath, but I can't seem to find enough information on them. I really don't see that they're different from an Unbreakable Vow."

"Wand Oaths are much more flexible, Mr. Malfoy. The terms for breaking such an oath can be set by both parties involved in the oath. The consequences for breaking a Wand Oath have been everything from persistent boils to divine misconceptions." Draco snorted and Snape's lip curled in a dry smirk. "Inventive, to say the least." Snape steepled his long fingers together over his abdomen. "Both the Unbreakable Vow and the Wand Oath require close attention to wording. The difference with an Unbreakable Vow is that there are those skilled enough who are able to trick someone and enforce an Unbreakable Vow without the need of any overt ritual or wand magic." He scowled as he recalled the simple, yet binding vow he'd made to Dumbledore the night he'd tried to save Lily.

"How can that be, sir? Everything I've read says the Unbreakable Vow requires a wand and the ritual."

"Very true. However, the true magic is in the intent of the one demanding the vow, and the one taking it." Draco's eyes had widened in shock at this. "I see you weren't aware of that aspect. Unbreakable Vows can be very dangerous, Draco." Sighing heavily, Snape leaned forward, unbuttoned the cuff of his sleeve on his left arm and rolled it up. He turned his arm and laid it across the desk so Draco could see the Dark Mark. "This is another facet of an Unbreakable Vow. This one comes with a lifetime of servitude and pain. The only release is death."

Draco had seen his father's Dark Mark, but on Snape's flesh it appeared to be much more than the simple tattoo he'd thought it was. On Snape's arm it looked like the remains of a horrible branding scar. The flesh at the edges was an irritated red. Seeing the Dark Mark, he was much more afraid of any sort of Unbreakable Vow. Yet, he still needed a way to keep Hermione safe.

"My father's doesn't look like that," whispered Draco.

"Lucius uses a glamour. He cannot hide the Dark Mark, but he can mask its uglier appearance." Grimacing, Snape rolled down his sleeve and buttoned the cuff. "If your heart is set on protecting Miss Granger through a vow or an oath, I think you should explore the more flexible merits of a Wand Oath. Also, as they are her friends, I strongly suggest you consider including Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter in the oath as well."

"I'll talk to Hermione first and see what she says." Draco rose to his feet. "Thank you, Professor."

"Wording is important, Mr. Malfoy. Construct your oath, with its inherent consequences carefully." Snape picked up his quill, dipped it into the ink and bowed his head to the essays.

Draco paused thoughtfully in the doorway and regarded Snape. Draco felt he was only just beginning to understand what Snape had given up, not just for himself, but for everyone. He shook his head, hoping that death truly didn't wait at the end of the war for his godfather. Didn't he deserve some happiness? Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he headed back to the parlor.

Halloween weekend arrived and Lyrica left Hogwarts to spend the time with Snape and the children. Plans had been made to celebrate the holiday with a fancy dinner at a restaurant in Hogsmeade and then shopping in Diagon Alley. She Apparated to the entry hall in Ashmere and was surprised to find everything so quiet. She glanced into the parlour, then the library and found both empty.

"Welcome home, Mistress Lyrica." The house elf, Snick, bobbled her head and smiled.

"Where is everyone, Snick?"

"Master Severus Snape is brewing. He asks me to send you when you arrive. He is much, much angry." Dorcas pulled on her ears.

"Angry?" Lyrica dropped her bag and headed for the dungeon potions lab. The elf popped away.

Snape was seated at the white marble topped table tending to four cauldrons. He had just finished adding ingredients to each one and he was waiting to begin the next step. The fingers of his right hand tapped an irritated rhythm on the surface of the table.

"Severus?" she asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him at a critical juncture. "Is everything all right?"

"Those moronic brats have gotten themselves sick!" he exploded. Lyrica didn't say anything but stepped closer to him and studied the cauldrons and the remaining ingredients. "Despite everything I've told them, they went outside, at midnight mind you, to play wand tag on their brooms. Even Miss Granger, who generally has more sense than a dead boggart, joined them in their foolishness." He stirred each of the brewing potions precisely. "Stupid prats."

She wanted to ask what wand tag was, but left that question unasked. Lyrica had studied the brewing potions and the ingredients and had identified what they were ill with. This particular potion took two days of brewing. No wonder he was annoyed. "Two days of brewing and four children with the flu... I'm so sorry, Severus!"

"I've dealt with more snot, vomit, and whining in the past two days then I care to for the rest of my miserable life! Now I remember why I didn't become a Healer!"

"Let me help you with this, Severus." Lyrica didn't give him a chance to push her away. She sat down on a stool beside him and began working on two of the potions.

Snape glanced sidewise at Lyrica. "I can take care of the disobedient brats," he groused.

"I can see you've done that very well so far," she commented sarcastically without looking at him. She was in between ingredients and gathered up her long fall of hair and tied it into a loose knot at the nape of her neck.

He stretched out his hand and his finger traced the line of her neck lightly. "They're my responsibility," he whispered.

"You're in my house." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You have one minute to do your counter-clockwise stirs before your potion is ruined."

He stirred each potion and then dropped in the last ingredient. "You're a terrible distraction, woman."

"That I may be, Master Snape, but until we finish nursing these children, you shall keep your thoughts on your potions." She gave him a smug smile and then sighed dramatically. "I suppose after your delightful ministrations they're in need of a kind word or two?"

Snape let out a bark of laughter and together they finished the potions.

Snape carried doses of potion for Draco and Ron. He stepped into Draco's room first and found the boy sitting, shivering under a blanket, by the fire.

"You should be in bed, Draco," he said as he walked over to the boy. He placed the back of his hand to Draco's forehead. He had a fever.

"I'm c-c-c-cold," his teeth chattered. Snape coaxed Draco to his feet and escorted him to his bed. Draco half fell in and half crawled under the covers. Snape took the blanket that fell off Draco's shoulders and added it to the other covers on the bed.

Sitting down beside Draco, he slipped an arm behind his shoulders and helped him to sit up. "I have some Flu Relief Potion for you, Draco. I need you to drink all of it." Draco's head flopped wearily against Snape's shoulder for a moment and then he lifted his head as Snape placed the bottle against his lips. Draco had barely managed a single swallow before he gagged on the unpleasantly thick potion.

"I think... I'd rather... vomit." Draco's face was screwed up as he reacted to the peppery bitterness.

"Just a couple more swallows, child. It will ease your stomach, the fever will abate and you'll be able to sleep." Draco took a shaky breath, then nodded his assent. Snape tipped the remaining potion down the boy's throat. He then deposited the small bottle in his pocket, took out a handkerchief, and dabbed at the line of drool that the bad flavor produced.

Draco let out a weary sigh and leaned his head against Snape's shoulder. The potions master leaned back against the headboard. He stroked the boy's fevered forehead until Draco dropped into a slumber. Once asleep, Snape rose from the bed and tucked him under the covers.

Lyrica walked into Harry's room. He was pacing in front of his open window in his pyjamas. Despite the fire burning, the room was icy cold and sweat beaded upon Harry's forehead. "Harry! Into bed before you give yourself pleurisy!" She rushed to the window and closed it tightly.

"I'm burning to death!" he complained.

"I know, my dear. I have a potion here that will help." Lyrica directed him gently toward his bed.

He flopped down on his bed. "I don't want anymore anti-nausea potion," he pouted. "I'm sick of them! They all taste like rotten socks."

"This is Flu Relief potion, Harry. Unfortunately, it tastes worse than anti-nausea potion."

"I don't want anymore potions gunk!" He curled up facing away from Lyrica. "I've had the flu dozens of times and I never took anything, so go away."

Lyrica glided swiftly over to Harry, captured him in one arm and had the potion down his throat before he could fight or protest. Once she let him go, he let out a groan of displeasure that reflected just what he thought of the potion's taste and Lyrica's dosing method.

"Come along, Harry. Get under those covers." Still griping under his breath, he wriggled until he'd covered himself up. Lyrica stoked the coals in the fireplace and by the time she was finished, Harry was snoring softly.

Snape went to take care of Ron next. Of the four, he was in the worst shape when Snape found him. Ron was in the loo, his head hanging over the toilet. His skin was clammy and nearly as white as his knuckles that were gripping the sides of the commode. Snape conjured a cool cloth and held it to Ron's forehead, then the back of his neck.

"I want my mum!" wailed Ron as his stomach rebelled again and tears trailed down his cheeks. There was nothing in his stomach but bile, so the muscles only cramped up, causing more pain. Ron couldn't hold himself up anymore. He wanted to drift against Snape, but a small part of him, that part that referred to Snape as the 'slimy git of the dungeon', the 'evil black bat that hates Gryffindor' would hold such weakness against him. "I want to go home," his voice whispered plaintively like that of a five year old.

Ron body was shaking and Snape pulled him close. "Come here, boy, I won't bite," he said soothingly.

"You'll tell your... Snakes about... me... being a baby."

"I promise I shall do no such thing," he spoke softly letting the boy cry into his robes. He rubbed Ron's back as he rocked him slowly.

Hermione, out of the four, was in the best shape. She sat in a chair with a blanket wrapped around herself and was reading a book. On a small table beside her sat a bowl of broth and a cup of tea. In her lap was a box of tissue for her congested nose.

"Hello Hermione," greeted Lyrica. Hermione looked up and gave the headmistress a weak smile. Hermione's cheeks were splotchy red. Lyrica put her palms against Hermione's cheeks and felt the warmth of them.

"I'm doing fine," Hermione spoke softly and then yawned.

"I can see that," Lyrica smiled and took the book from Hermione's hands and with a wave of her hand sent the tissue box to the bed. "You can read later, dear, after you've had a little more rest." Lyrica spotted the broth. "Have you kept your broth down?"

Hermione nodded and rose to her feet. "I just can't breathe." She sneezed and blew her nose.

"Into bed, then. I have a flu relief potion for you that ought to have you right as rain in about 24 hours. Hermione grimaced. She knew how awful that sludgy potion was.

"I really think tea would be better, Professor."

"Tea can't hurt, but you'll still take this." Hermione pulled her covers up to her neck and took the proffered bottle. "All of it now, dear."

Hermione pinched her nostrils shut and then drank all the potion down like Mad-Eye Moody would slam a double dram of Firewhiskey. "Bleah!" She grimaced and wiped at the little bit of drool with the cuff of her nightgown. Lyrica brought her tea over and Hermione thankfully chased the potion with the orange pekoe.

"I really meant to stop them," Hermione muttered.

"Stop who?" Lyrica asked as she down beside the girl.

"They were having fun, and I didn't want to be just... watching like I always do. It didn't seem that cold." Lyrica's cool fingers brushed Hermione's sweat dampened curls from her forehead and cheeks. "I just... I just wanted to play."

"You're just a little girl, Hermione. You don't have to be the grown up all the time. As smart as you are, it doesn't hurt to get into trouble now and then."

Hermione chuckled and then coughed. "Yes it does. It feels awful."

"You'll feel much better tomorrow, my dear. I promise. Now, give me that cup of tea and curl up under those covers."

Hermione did as she was told and was soon fast asleep.

Lyrica shut the door to Hermione's room softly. She glanced toward Draco's door and saw that it was closed but that Ron's was open. She went into Ron's room to see if Snape required any assistance. She heard a muffled noise from the bathroom and peeked around the door. Snape was seated on the tiled floor with the young Gryffindor half curled in the his lap. Ron was weeping about missing his mother and wishing he could go home. She tapped Snape's shoulder and mouthed the question, 'Need help?'

Snape curtly shook his head, gave Lyrica a quick smile, and returned his attention to Ron. Lyrica left the second floor and made her way down to the parlour. She soon settled in with one of her books.

It was almost two hours later when Snape, without his outer robe and frock coat, arrived in the parlour. He settled himself wearily next to Lyrica on the sofa. Putting down her book, she drew his head and shoulders into her lap and he pulled his feet up onto the remainder of the sofa.

"How is Ron doing?" she asked as she combed her fingers through his hair. His eyes closed.

"He's finally dosed and asleep." Snape felt the day's tension releasing itself slowly from his mind and his limbs. He was exhausted.

"I heard him asking for his mother."

"Molly Weasley. No doubt the best mother in the wizarding world, and also the best cook." He smiled weakly. "Mr. Weasley's been altogether too accepting of our situation and the dam's just finally broke. He was more terrified that I'd..." he cut himself off. He did not want to say what the boy thought of him.

"He thought you might use his weakness later and tease him?"

"I'm not a nice man," he muttered and then yawned.

"Nonsense." She kissed his forehead. "Why don't you get a little sleep, now, Severus. We'll eat when you wake. Taking her hand in his, he yawned a second time and allowed his weariness to take over. He was soon contentedly asleep.

Severus woke a few hours later to the aroma of roast, potatoes and savoury vegetables. Lyrica was nowhere to be seen, which disappointed him a little. He rose from the sofa and went toward the dining room. There was nothing and nobody there, so he went into the kitchen. He was surprised to find Lyrica, her hair loosely braided out of the way, wearing an apron, and busy fixing the delicious smelling food that had awakened him.

"Your elf allows you to cook?" he asked as he came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. Severus brushed his lips to the nape of her neck and then looked over her shoulder as she sliced the roast beef.

"Dorcas and Snick are watching over the children with His Majesty. That gave me a chance to show you my cooking skills." Lyrica began plating their meal.

"You're a Potions Mistress," he smirked as he took the plates over to the narrow kitchen table.

"And that means I know how to cook?" she asked as she placed two glasses on the table and filled them with wine.

"I have yet to meet someone skilled in potions that doesn't cook well." He held out her chair and Lyrica sat down. He then took his chair.

"Just because I can modify a Twitching Nerve Potion on the fly, doesn't necessarily mean I can cook." Lyrica smiled cheekily and held out a bit of roast on her fork to him. "Care to put your taste buds in my hands, Severus?"

Snape leaned over and plucked the meat off the fork. He chewed and closed his eyes briefly. "That... is... wonderful!" He opened his eyes, took a sip of wine and then smiled.

For a few minutes they concentrated on their meal and ate in silence. When they were almost finished, Lyrica spoke again. "I brought pudding from Hogwarts. I hope you like apple crumble."

"Most certainly I do."

Pudding was finished very quickly. Taking their wine, they retired to the parlour and curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace together. "Severus, you blurted something this afternoon... about not being a Healer. Was that something you considered at one time?"

He nodded and slipped his arm over her shoulders, drawing Lyrica against his side. "A childhood friend had suggested it and it was something I considered. However, I became... distracted and my life took a different path." Snape shuddered slightly as she laid her hand tentatively upon his left forearm.

"Did you choose this mark?" Lyrica asked softly.

Snape panicked slightly and Lyrica felt his body stiffen. "I... I took it willingly," he rasped. He tried to pull away from Lyrica, but she pressed against him and held his arm round her shoulders. "I wanted the promise of power, of revenge against those that had hurt me." Lyrica's hand slipped into his. "Instead, my anger and hatred caused the death of the only person who was my true friend."

There was silence between the two of them for several minutes and then Lyrica shifted so she could look up into his face. "Severus... I wish..."

His finger traced lightly over her chin, and then her lips. "I know," he said softly. He kissed her, drawing her tightly into his embrace as he allowed himself a moment of peace. He could taste the cool wine on her lips, the sweetness of the apple crumble. Reluctantly he drew slightly away. "Lyrica, I wish for the same thing."

As she kissed him this time, neither were aware of a pair of green eyes that watched them from the shadows. The eyes blinked, wearily, and Harry stumbled away from the parlour door, up the stairs, and back to his room.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were on the road to recovery as Halloween and the month of October faded away behind them. The first snow of the year had begun, lightly, but it was enough for Snape to ward and seal all the doors and windows in order to keep his charges inside the house. Lyrica had arrived for the weekend and she and Snape had vanished down to the lab.

The kids were in the parlour busy with various activities. Harry and Draco were working on their more destructive tendencies by playing a version of wizard chess with the basic rule of 'get in as many fights as you can'. The chess pieces were going at the battles with pointed insults and even pointier weapons. Harry yelped as a spear thrown by one of Draco's knights hit his knee.

"Five points taken for out of bounds play!" shouted Harry gleefully as he instructed his queen to direct her dagger out of bounds. Draco moved gracefully as the tiny dagger flew past his shin.

"Now we're even, Potter!" Draco snickered and leaned toward the chessboard to confer with his pieces on the next attack.

Hermione was sitting on the floor in front of the fire with several pages of notes arranged around her. Ron had a book in his hand, but kept looking up from it as Hermione mumbled every once in awhile.

"It doesn't make sense," she said for the umpteenth time.

Ron finally put his book down and settled himself across from Hermione. "I don't know why you're continuing with this portal stuff of yours, 'Mione. Snape said it was just taking us all in circles."

"I know what he said, Ron, but he's no more an expert on time travel than I am, and I'm convinced the answer is here. I just... I need to keep trying." She stared morosely at the notes.

"You're wasting your time with that," remarked Harry. The chess game had ended and Draco was re-setting it up.

"How can you say that, Harry?" demanded Hermione.

"Snape doesn't want to leave." His reply was blunt, matter of fact, and implied that was all the explanation that was needed. It wasn't enough, of course.

"Snape's got no more reason to return than any of us, Potter," said Draco as he left the chessboard and went to sit beside Hermione. "He sits in that library reading and doing research almost everyday..."

"Really?" Harry's voice had a hint of challenge in it and Draco glared at the interruption.

"All right, Potter. Are you privy to some information we're not, because I don't really want to get into an argument." Draco leaned his back against the edge of the couch.

"Snape and Professor Arcahnum," Ron provided. "He's in love with her and Harry saw them the last night we were all sick."

"Saw them? Doing what?" asked Hermione innocently. Draco leaned over and whispered wickedly into her ear. Shock lit up her face, and Draco snickered. "You didn't see... not that... did you, Harry?"

Harry frowned. "What...? Oh hell no! You're a bastard, Malfoy! Ok, I did see them, ewww, kiss, but... no. I heard him tell her that he wanted to stay here. I'll bet they're in the potions lab snogging right now."

Ron shuddered at the unpleasant image that flitted through his mind. "Shut up, Harry. You'll give me nightmares."

"I don't think we can trust Snape." Harry's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Of course we can trust Professor Snape, Harry," protested Hermione. "He's said..."

"He's said a lot of things, Hermione," Harry interrupted again, "and you know he's got no reason for going back except us. I think he's just letting us think there's a chance, and then someday he'll tell us it's impossible and we're all going to get glamoured, or move someplace else... we're not going home and all your worrying about your notes, portals and stuff is just a big waste."

"Extolling the virtues of Sir Raven again, young Master Harry?" the King drifted into the parlour through the flames of the fireplace.

"Do you trust Snape, Your Majesty?" How many times had Albus Dumbledore told Harry that his trust in Snape was absolute and not to be questioned? Hadn't the man also saved his life a few times as well? Yes to both questions, yet I still can't bring myself to trust him. Why? He really couldn't answer that. Snape was an enigma, a puzzle he couldn't solve. The Snape he knew was a snarky, slimy old bat, who despised the very air he breathed. Yet, in this time, he was patient with Harry and Ron and even complimentary to Hermione. More than just grading their essays, he DISCUSSED them with all of them. He'd taken care of them when they were sick and he didn't even yell at Harry when he sicked up all over his shirt.

"That's not a question I have an answer for, Harry. You've known the man longer than I have. Has he given any indication since you've arrived for you to doubt his intentions?" King Henry drifted over to Harry and seated himself in an invisible chair.

"I... he... " Harry now wished he'd just had the good sense to shut up and start another game of chess.

The king held up his hand. "I have seen an honourable man take up a challenge that would daunt most adults his age. He looks after each of you, makes certain you are fed, housed, clothed and educated. Rather surprising he does this when none of you are his issue and it appears that none of you care as much for him. The man has been a better father to you... to each of you, then ever I was to mine."

Ron stepped in in an effort to dig Harry out of the hole he'd tossed himself into. "Your Majesty, I think what Harry's tryin' to say is that we're beginning to think Snape doesn't want to go back to our time. Maybe he'd rather run away from our future. Maybe he's a coward and he's been lying to us."

Harry gawped at Ron. "I didn't say he was a coward!" He punched Ron in the shoulder, hard. Ron's expression registered the pain.

"Potter, sometimes I think you don't deserve to be in Gryffindor, you're so bloody stupid." Draco stood up and sneered with clear anger at both boys. He pointed at Ron. "And you, Weasely, don't you ever call Snape a coward!"

Hermione placed a hand on Draco's arm. "He's right, Ron. That's unfair to say. You know he's never acted cowardly."

Ron held up his hands in surrender. "All right, don't blast me. Maybe that was too harsh, but look at what's going on right under our noses. Harry's right. He's got no reason to go back. Snape's mad for the headmistress."

"Whether or not he likes Professor Arcahnum doesn't matter," asserted Hermione. "He's said from the beginning that his responsibility is to us!"

There was a brief moment of silence and then it was Harry who gave the unexpected reply. "He won't disappoint Dumbledore." Harry was pretty certain he'd had a large attack of insanity hit him for what he'd just said. It was much worse when he realised someone had been listening to them.

"It might help to keep your doubt about me in check, Mr. Potter, if you kept that thought in mind." Snape walked into the parlour with Lyrica right behind him.

Harry's cheeks flamed and when he was embarrassed, he never stopped to think about his words. This was one of those times and he spoke angrily. "Why don't you just face it, Professor? We're not going back, ever! Our friends and our families are going to die and Voldemort's going to win because we aren't there! Just admit it! We can't go back and you've know it for a long..."

"Mr. Potter, be silent!" growled Snape. Potter had just let slip a name he shouldn't have in front of two people who should never have heard that name. "For your information, we discovered something we overlooked early on in our research. It's why we came up here." Harry frowned, perplexed. He expected more to this argument and Snape turning it to something else, threw him off.

Snape looked down at Hermione. "Miss Granger, most of this has to do with the notes you made in regards to..." He glanced down at the girl's original notes she'd scattered on the floor. "...wormholes and portkeys. Professor Arcahnum and I made some additional notes and we'd like for you to review everything. Perhaps you may see something we do not."

He held out a sheaf of parchment and Hermione got up from beside Draco and took the notes from Snape. "I'll look things over tonight, shall I?"

"Briefly, Miss Granger. I do not want you to over tire yourself." Snape turned back to Harry and noted that the boy was still scowling. He wavered between wanting to box the boy's ears and... and... well, he wanted to just hit him and that was all there was to it. "Mr. Potter, follow me. Now."

Harry shrugged his shoulders and got up. Ahhh, so he hadn't been so easily dismissed. This wasn't good. He sighed loudly just as Snape spun back the way he and Lyrica had come. His robes drifting like shadows around him. Everyone watched awkwardly as Harry left.

"Do you love Professor Snape?" Ron asked Lyrica. Hermione let out a gasp and Draco just snickered. Lyrica blushed.

"Boy, you wield your words like an axe!" declared King Henry. Ron's cheeks just flushed a deep crimson and he shrugged an apology.