Late Summer, 1980, Hogwarts

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sat in the silence of his office just enjoying the quiet. The new term would begin in two weeks and almost everything was ready. He was missing two staff members; someone to teach Potions and someone to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He had some candidates in mind and a few applications to review. His plan was to go over them this evening and schedule interviews for tomorrow.

After several long minutes, he retrieved the applications for the positions and was about to begin reading when a delicate, attention getting cough interrupted. He looked up and smiled. "Madam Derwent? Was there something you wished to speak to me about?"

"Indeed. I've been keeping something in trust for you. If you'll look behind my portrait... take care, mind you, you'll find it."

Albus gently removed Dilys Derwent's portrait from the wall and found an aged letter attached to the back of the canvas. He carefully removed the letter, put the portrait back up on the wall and went over to his desk. Perching his half-moon glasses upon his nose, he studied the letter. His name was written just above the seal.

"Curious," he murmured. As he touched the old, red wax seal, there was a spark that alerted him to an additional spell that had been keyed to his touch. He broke the wax, unfolded the letter and began to read the cramped, very precise writing. After reading the letter, he stared for a moment into the fire and then folded the letter closed again. A few minutes later he re-sealed the letter.

Albus,

This letter will be left in trust for you until 1980. I must be careful what I reveal in this letter as our futures rely upon my discretionary silence. I can tell you that you shall hire me for the post of the Potions Teacher in 1980. My application will be for Defense Against the Dark Arts, but you must refuse me the position. Offer me the Potions Teacher position and be persistent. I shall acquiesce.

With that said, you are no doubt very curious as to how I knew you would be headmaster and also how I knew you'd offer me a teaching position at Hogwarts. The reason is, for me, these events have already occurred. I shall explain:

On September 14th in 1994 only a few minutes after Midnight, I was in the Forbidden Forest dealing with four miscreants who had begun a fight in my class earlier on the 13th that merited detention. It was my intention to teach them about a particular plant that only blooms at midnight and to have them assist me in harvesting it. Please note, the students with me were: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasely and Hermione Granger.

We had just begun the lesson when we were attacked by the Vohlfayr. A combination of their propensity to shift slightly forward ahead in time, a miscast Dispercio spell, and my own side-along apparation spell caused us to travel back in time to 1898. As you know, you were 17 years old at Hogwarts and if you cast your memory back, even though it may be foggy, I am certain you will recall having been introduced to a 'Master Snape' and his four wards. You even had a mis-advised adventure with the young students in the 'Odd Room'.

If you cannot recall the memory, then I urge you to use your pensieve. A mind be-fogging charm was cast upon the school by the headmistress. Only those that spent more time than necessary with us would have retained the memory.

Since September of 1898, we have been doing our best to discover a way home. The headmistress, Lyrica Arcahnum, has assured us that the enchanting of a single object into a portgate both in 1899 and in 1994, will be sufficient to open a stable portal that we can walk through back to our time.

We have chosen to enchant the Mirror of Erised on the morning of April 10, 1899. I know it is an unusual object to enchant as a portkey, but to be honest, it is the only object I can be certain of that exists here and exists in our time as well. Albus, please enchant the Mirror of Erised at least an hour after we vanished from the Forbidden Forest.

One more thing I must note, as the headmistress has just now reminded me; we must step through, hand in hand. If we do not, one of us could get left behind, permanently. So, when we step through, make certain that no one lets go of their companion until the last person is through.

We look forward to returning home, soon, Albus.

Sincerely,

Severus Snape
Professor of Potions

Albus looked down at the applications for Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor and removed the one given to him by young Severus Snape. The application had been given to him back in July at the end of term. He recalled the furtive desperation that lingered just beneath the young wizard's mask of calm. He'd had no intention of accepting the application or giving the position to the wizard whose loyalties were questionable, then. Dumbledore's worries were confirmed at the beginning of August when Severus had been found nearly at death's door at the apparating limit of Hogwarts. He had been subjected to numerous Cruciatus curses and also physically beaten. Clad in bloodied Death Eater robes, he had begged, in the rain, for Dumbledore's forgiveness and protection.

Without question, Dumbledore had taken the young wizard into Hogwarts and made a promise to keep him safe. Snape's injuries had been extensive and after extracting a promise from Dumbledore that he'd protect Lily, he had fallen unconscious. Snape did not waken until three days later. The aurors had come for him, then. Barely healed from Voldemort's 'gifts' of torture, the Potions Master spent days being interrogated by several aurors until the day of his trial. Dumbledore's unflagging trust in his former student kept the man from Azkaban. The Headmaster had brought the thin, wastrel of a man back to Hogwarts. Madame Pomfrey had healed the younger wizard's body, but mentally he had withdrawn and had fallen into a deep depression. The portraits and ghosts often reported that Snape wandered the corridors and rooms and towers late into the night. Consequently, Albus knew that the man would be awake for a quick interview.

Folding and re-sealing the letter from the future Severus Snape, he replaced it behind Headmistress Derwent's portrait and went to offer a job to the ex-Death Eater.

1899, Ashmere, April

Lyrica read over the letter that Snape had just written to Albus Dumbledore. "The tenth of April?" she asked sadly. "That's only a few days away, Severus."

He frowned slightly and leaned over the desk to take the letter from her hand. "None of us wish to leave, Lyrica. You know that. It's far too much of a temptation to delay our departure."

"I shall not return to Hogwarts until the tenth, then," she declared a little more bravely.

Snape smiled grimly. "I would hate it if you went back." It was an awkward moment as he folded and sealed the letter to Albus. The wizard then rose to his feet and held out his hand to Lyrica. "Since you're not busy, you may assist me in today's potions practical."

Lyrica took his hand as he pulled her to her feet. "What foul-tasting potion are you brewing today?" She smiled and lightly kissed his cheek.

"Bone Regrowth Potion."

Lyrica stopped, halting him. "Skele-Gro? Severus Snape! That's an apprentice level potion! You'd better not blow up my beautiful lab."

Snape yanked her out of the library and glowered mockingly, "Oh woman, ye of little faith. Come and learn!"

Down in the Ashmere potions lab, Draco, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all sat at the black marble worktable. To their right was a blackboard with the Skele-Gro Potion recipe and the Bone Regrowth Potion written on it. Lyrica sat at the white marble worktable with her own cauldron in front of her. She had decided to create the potion along with the teenagers.

"Skele-Gro is a brand name of a potion created by Rubens Winikins & Company in 1722," Snape formally began his lecture as he paced the floor. "A problem with this version of Skele-Gro is that not only does it tend to burn the throat and esophagus as it is administered, but as it re-grows bone, it causes a prickling sensation beneath the skin that is not only painful, but irritatingly unpleasant." Harry grimaced remembering all to well his own experience with Skele-Gro after the idiot Lockhart had banished the bones in his broken arm in his second year. Snape smirked at Harry and then pointed to the recipe on the board. "Here we have Skele-Gro and my version of Bone Regrowth. As you can see I've used Aloe extract which aids in eliminating the burning. Aloe, of course, affects the efficacy of the St. John's Wort, so to offset this the St. John's Wort is steeped in a solution of dessicated eel. The irritation is brought down to a tolerable wormth by the addition of ground cacao and the removal of Lynott Bean. As you brew the potion should go from clear, to mud coloured, then to a scintillating gold."

"How's the taste, Professor?" quipped Draco. He'd also had his own dealings with Skele-Gro and knew he'd rather eat his socks then drink that particularly vile potion ever again.

"As Skele-Gro has often been compared to the taste of 'well-used socks' I did attempt to improve upon the taste. I believe it's much more like rotten fruit now." He ignored the snorts and laughter and tapped the blackboard with his fingertip. "Take a few minutes to read over the recipe and then I have some questions before you begin."

Snape sat down beside Lyrica and leaned over. "I don't see you reading, my dear," his voice was stern, but there was the glimmer of a smile in his eyes. She chuckled softly and began reading.

After several minutes, Snape stood again. "Who can tell me what would cause a catastrophic explosion if you weren't careful in brewing this potion?"

Ron was the first to raise his hand, and Snape nodded, indicating he should reply. Ron smirked quickly at Hermione. It had become a contest amongst the boys to see who could raise their hands first when asked a question. "If you add the dittany before the St. John's Wort that will cause an explosion."

"Very good, Mr. Weasley, but that would only hold true if you were brewing Skele-Gro." Snape's expression was bemused smugness as Ron glared darkly. Hermione's hand shot up into the air. "Miss Granger?"

"If the Catellun Fish Bone isn't finely crushed and isn't added when the potion is at its hottest temperature, it can cause your cauldron to split."

"Which is why all of you will start your ingredients preparation with the fish bone and you don't begin brewing until I have approved the job you've done. Begin."

Over the next two hours Snape hovered over his students as he usually did. In this small class, though, he did not disparage or jump out at his students at the least provocation to take points. He gave praise where it was deserved and corrected mistakes before they became critical. If a question was asked, he did not hesitate to answer it thoroughly. By the end of the brewing session there were five, absolutely perfect Bone Regrowth Potions. Enough potion was created for six bottles and thirty-six single doses. While Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco cleaned up their stations, Snape and Lyrica packed up the potion for delivery to St. Mungos.

Snape strode down the west wing corridor. Had he been wearing his outer robe, it would have been grandly rippling like a black, velvet wave behind him. As it was, he was only wearing his heavy dragon-hide boots, black trousers, a white silk shirt, and a simple black vest. Putting on his best scowl, he allowed himself the few brief seconds it took to reach the end of the corridor to vent his irritation with a few, punctuated snorts. They'd been missing since dinner had ended. He hadn't been concerned until Ron had let slip that they had gone to their rooms to study. When Harry punched Ron in the shoulder, he knew that something he'd forbidden was up.

With a wave of his wand, Draco's closed door crashed open. The two guilty, supposedly studying, hormonal teenagers, leapt apart. Draco and Hermione's cheeks were both flushed and not through academic pursuit. Snape filled the doorway as he glared snidely at them.

"Have you considered names for the child, yet? I rather like Severus Granger Malfoy, don't you?"

"WHAT?" squeaked Hermione as her blush deepened to scarlet. "We weren't... no! Draco!" She shot an anguished look his way as his eyes rounded in astonishment.

"Severus! I'd never do that to Hermione! I promised!" He crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest, unconsciously mimicking his godfather.

"Hermione, go to your room," Snape commanded.

Tears coursing down her cheeks, she fled, almost unaware of the fact she had to push past Snape as she ran through the doorway. "Why did you have to embarrass her like that?" demanded Draco. "We were only kissing!"

"I don't care what you were 'only' doing, Draco. I told both of you that you were not to indulge in such an activity behind closed doors and certainly not on your bed!"

Draco threw himself angrily into one of the chairs in his room. "I promised you and I promised Hermione that nothing would happen. Nothing like... you know... that... until after Voldemort was dead and my father was no longer a threat. You know I want to marry her! Doesn't my promise mean anything?"

"You know this has nothing to do with your promises, Draco. Hermione is a young lady, and young ladies do not comport themselves in such a manner in a young man's bedroom. Both of you are very well aware that I have high expectations in regards to gentlemanly and ladylike conduct, especially as it concerns your relationship. You both disobeyed me."

"Merlin, Severus!" snarled Draco. "You sound like someone from King Henry's century! We were JUST kissing! In a few days, I'm not even going to be able to smile at Hermione. Don't you think we're allowed some time together?"

Merlin spare me from teenage angst, Snape's mind sighed in exasperation. "Yes, you are allowed time together and I think I've been quite tolerant of late. However, you are going to have to start practicing some restraint. Both of you are." He took in the dark scowl on the teenagers face and sighed heavily. "I know you feel this is unfair, Draco, but you know what we're facing."

For several minutes Draco fumed silently and drummed his fingers in irritation upon the arm of his chair. He finally leaned forward, put his head in his hands, and when he looked up, there was such great pain and anguish in his eyes that it tore at Snape. "Why did we have to fall in love, Severus? This is going to be impossible! What if I do something stupid, like smiling at her in class? Crabbe or Goyle would snitch on me in a second and as soon as Lucius found out, he'd hurt Hermione! And, I can't go home... he'll Legilimens me and I'll give it all away!"

Snape laid a hand upon Draco's shoulder. "Luckily for you Lucius is not as skilled at Legilimency as the Dark Lord or I am. Regardless, it may be wise for all of you to learn Occlumens in order to protect us all. Not only will it help to keep memories hidden that are dangerous, but it can help you to reign in your... baser impulses."

For a moment Draco leaned his head against his guardian's hip. He then pulled away. "I still wish you hadn't embarrassed Hermione like that, Severus. It was my fault, anyway."

Snape smirked mildly. "In taking the blame, you are a gentleman, Draco. Go downstairs, have some hot chocolate and complain about my behavior to your brothers-in-foolishness. Be glad I'm no longer assigning essays."

Draco rose to his feet and smiled at Snape. "Game of Dragons tonight, Uncle?"

"After I speak to your lady love." Snape watched Draco leave and then he sighed heavily. He wondered if he might have to have Lyrica speak to Hermione. Recalling his Head of House duties, speaking to the female population of Slytherin House had always been awkward. The 'facts of life' were almost always left up to the teachers of Hogwarts to handle, and Snape's way of handling such an uncomfortable duty was to send the girls of Slytherin to Minerva McGonagall. In turn, she would send her boys to him.

As he considered that, he realised that giving Hermione 'the talk' certainly wasn't needed here. He had no doubt she'd either read all she needed to know, or her rather forward, Muggle parents had already talked to her. He knew he'd embarrassed the girl, as well as Draco, and that was enough to remind both children how young they yet were. He knocked upon the closed door.

"If that's you, Uncle Severus, go away!" came Hermione's angry, muffled voice. He could hear the tears and wondered how, after all this time, he still managed to be the consummate bastard of the dungeons.

"Hermione, please allow me to speak to you," he spoke gently to the door. There was no reply, but he heard rustling and movement. The door opened a tiny crack and Hermione peeked through. Her eyes were staring down at the floor. "May I come in?" She vanished from the slim crack and after a minute of hesitation, Snape pushed the door open.

Hermione had curled up into her chair and stared out the window. Snape walked over and handed her a handkerchief. She took it and dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose. She then crushed it in her fist. "Don't loom like that," she said stonily as she glanced at him standing over her.

Snape brought a chair close and sat down in it beside Hermione. "Surely all these tears aren't just from embarrassment, are they?" Hermione merely shook her head and stared studiously out at the darkness as fresh tears slid down her cheeks. "Will you tell me what has you in such a state?" Snape had a fair idea of what had the young girl upset, but felt she needed to voice it.

For a long moment Hermione just dabbed at the tears and did her best to calm down her breathing. Finally she blurted, "How am I supposed to go back to hating Draco?" She turned to face Snape. "All it will take is one smile and that could get Draco killed. I wish we didn't have to go back, but I know that's impossible. I'm just afraid."

"This isn't going to be easy for any of us, Hermione, but I will be doing all that I can to keep each of you safe."

Hermione's gaze drifted to Snape's forearm where the Dark Mark was. "He could kill you, too," she whispered.

Snape shook his head. "My time as the servant of the Dark Lord is finished." Although Voldemort was in hiding as he recovered, Snape's duties as a spy had not ended the night the Potters were killed and Harry was marked. Snape kept an eye upon those Death Eaters that had managed to keep from being imprisoned. He had made the decision weeks ago, before they even knew there was a way back home, that his days of spying were ended. "The Headmaster will no doubt be displeased, but my duty is now to you, my children. I intend to keep you all safe and to give you the tools and skills you need to protect yourselves."

Hermione's heart gladdened, somewhat, at the thought that Snape would no longer spy for Dumbledore, but she knew they'd all still be in danger. "How will we protect ourselves?"

"You will learn how to fight and I will teach each of you to protect your minds with Occlumency. That discipline will help while you're at school so that none of you will betray how you truly feel about each other. I promise, Hermione, we will do all we can to make our world a better place. Not only do we deserve it, but those we care about deserve it, too."

Hermione patted away the last of her tears and slid from her chair. She stood in front of Snape for a second and then threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "You know we love you?" she asked close to his ear softly.

Snape pulled Hermione away and smiled; a genuine smile that was rare to see upon the face of the dreaded spy. With a kiss to her forehead, he said gently, "How I ever let you four terrors into my heart, I'll never know, Hermione." He rose to his feet. "Come, let's go have a game of Dragons tonight."

Hermione grinned up at the tall wizard. "You, Lyrica and I against the boys?"

Snape smirked, "Sounds fair to me!"

The next day Draco and Harry sat on the landing of the grand staircase, while Hermione sat just below them on a step with her nose in a book. She had begun reading about the discipline of Occlumens and Legilimens.

She read from her book, "It says here that a mind properly Occluded is able to thwart all mental attacks upon it. Occlumens can also aid the practitioner in disciplining the emotions and the body language evidenced by natural emotions."

Harry grinned, "I guess that's why Severus is such a successful, bastard, spy."

"Draco, what was Uncle Severus like when you were little?" asked Hermione.

"Around Lucius and my mother and the Death Eaters that would visit, he was just downright scary. He's got a good, scary persona as a teacher, but when he was at my house..." Draco shuddered. "He unnerved the other Death Eaters. If he smiled, you knew the person he smiled at was dead, or that he was seeing that person's death in his mind. I was three years old when Lucius formally introduced me to all of the DE and none of them made my insides turn to jelly like Severus did." Draco sat up straighter as his mind returned to the past. "There's this ritual the Death Eaters have when they meet each others kids for the first time. The parents take the kid to each member and that person picks up the kid and kisses him or her. Aunt Bella kissed me on the mouth and whispered in my ear that one day she'd eat me up. I had nightmares for a week after that. I thought she really was going to eat me."

"That's a really sick ritual," said Harry with a shudder.

"It is," agreed Draco.

"So what happened with Uncle Severus?" asked Hermione, her voice a light, awed whisper.

"The other men were really rough when they picked me up and by the time it was Severus' turn, my ribs were kind of bruised. He was so tall and I swear, he looked like Death himself. I wanted to cry, but Fa... Lucius had warned me before the meeting that if I cried, I'd get whipped. Severus knew I was scared and instead of picking me up, he knelt down until he was level with me. He didn't smile. In fact, I don't think his expression ever changed, but I saw something in his eyes that was meant just for me. I knew I could trust him not to hurt me. Severus then took my hand and pulled me close. Instead of kissing my cheek, he whispered in my ear."

"What did he say?' asked Harry who was now completely enthralled by the tale.

"He said, 'you can always trust me, Little Dragon'." Draco smiled softly at the memory. "Lucius still hurt me, but his beatings didn't have the same sting they'd had after that day. "Severus visited a lot and I'm pretty sure that he wasn't visiting Lucius, but to make sure that I was all right. Everytime he visited, if only for a few seconds, he'd whisper that same phrase to me."

"I'm really glad we've all been able to see that side of him," mused Harry. "Severus is a good man."

Draco smirked, "I always said he was!"

Ron was coming down from the second floor and interrupted them, "I think I've got it!"

"Got what, lute man?" asked Draco looking up.

"Hermione, come here and check this out," said Ron as he sat on the carpet between Draco and Harry. Hermione put down her book and stepped up to the landing just as Ron handed her a blank piece of paper. Similar pieces of parchment he handed to Draco and Harry, and he kept one to himself. "Conjure some quill and ink and then turn around and write something," Ron instructed.

Harry turned and placed his parchment on the step in front of him. After a wave of his wand, he had a quill and ink and he began writing. At the front of his sentence was a tiny, golden snitch. He then watched in amazement as a sentence appeared below his. Before that sentence was an animated, small, green snake. Another sentence appeared below the second one. At the front of the third sentence was an orange cat stretching. A fourth sentence appeared and at the front of it was a tiny gray owl that kept crashing into the first letter of the first word that had been written.

"Brilliant!" enthused Harry.

"This is wonderful!" agreed Hermione. "How did you think of this, Ron?"

It was Draco who replied, "You got the idea from that spy novel you were reading, didn't you?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "It talked about how the spies needed to speak to their superiors, so they devised a secret code. So I went and looked for some charms and charmed this paper so we can talk to each other. You can clear the paper just by tapping the top right corner. Oh, and it won't tear, either."

"What about Severus?" asked Harry. "Can he talk to us, too?"

Ron nodded. "Yep. I made him a bat. You think he'll get mad?"

They all chuckled. Draco shook his head. "You might get detention, but he won't get mad."

"Oooh, the words are fading," Hermione gasped as she watched the parchment become clear.

"Failsafe," explained Ron. "The writing automatically clears after two minutes. Also, if one parchment gets lost, or someone else gets hold of it, none of ours will work. That way, we won't be writing to someone we shouldn't."

"Very good, Weasel," remarked Draco sincerely. "Of course, it does make me wonder why you consistently get such low marks in Charms when you can do something like this."

Ron scowled at Draco. "Could be boredom." Ron slipped out his wand and twirled it. "I've got a nice variation on the slug spell, Drake, if you'd like to see it."

Draco sniggered. "No thanks!" He nudged Ron in the shoulder with his fist. "Really, this is good, mate." He folded the parchment and slipped it into his pocket.

Draco and Harry had risen early on Friday morning, three days before their scheduled return to their time. They flew over the backyard of Ashmere, lazily, as they surveyed the house and its grounds. When they finally spiralled down to the ground, they both lay back on the grass to stare at the sky as clouds filtered past.

"Ought to be fun sabotaging your potions again, Scarhead," remarked Draco.

"I think I have a good chance of sabotaging yours first this time, Goldilocks," Harry shot back with a smirk.

"Bet on it?"

"One galleon to whomever gets detention first," chuckled Harry.

"No way, Harry! I'm Slytherin! You know that either way, you're the one who'll wind up in detention!"

"Is it my fault that you're Snape's Silver Boy?" Draco ripped up a handful of grass and dropped it on Harry's face. "Hey!" Jumping to his feet, he pulled out his wand and cast a jelly-legs curse.

As Draco dodged the curse, the impromptu duel was on. Draco drew upon a nearby Ley Line and with both hands snapped them out in front of him, Harry was picked up off his feet and thrown backwards. Harry tumbled but turned it into a graceful roll. As he came out of the roll, he cast a shield and shoved its force at Draco. The Slytherin was knocked off his feet. Immediately following was a tickling curse that Draco barely dodged. His counter was another wandless jinx that Harry just barely dodged. Harry tapped into the Ley Line and caught Draco's legs with a tendril of magical energy that suspended the boy upside-down. Draco severed the magical noose, dropped neatly to his feet, whipped out his wand and had Harry firmly bound by a binding spell that ended the duel.

Smiling, Draco sauntered over, ended the spell and gave Harry a hand up. "What was that spell you did with both hands?" asked Harry as he brushed at the grass and dirt on his clothes.

"Whipcord. Same principle as your noose, but instead of wrapping around your opponent it can whip an opponent just like a whip."

"That wasn't in any of our lessons," muttered Harry.

"You need to work on creating your own energy spells, Harry. Noose is good, but there's a lot more you can do than just the Noose with the energy spell."

"I know, but I haven't quite perfected the focusing of Ley Line magical energy. Comes out all at once and drains me a bit." Harry picked up his broom.

"That could get you killed," commented Draco as he followed Harry back into Ashmere.

"I'll get it figured out, don't worry, Draco."

Draco slung an arm over Harry's shoulder and smirked, "Until then, I'll be happy to keep knocking the whey out of you."

Harry laughed, "Thought you might."

Back in the house, Harry and Draco headed upstairs to put their brooms away. As Harry left his room, he went into Draco's and closed the door. "I need your opinion on something."

Draco sprawled comfortably in a chair and Harry took another one. "What's up?"

"I have an idea, but it may be entirely stupid. In fact, I'm pretty certain it is."

"Well, spit it out, Harry. You know I'll tell you the truth." Draco smirked and Harry laughed softly.

"Here it is..." Harry then paused to gather his thoughts. "I was thinking that if I stayed behind, with Lyrica, she and I could find Nicolas Flamel and convince him to brew the Philosopher's Stone Elixir for us. It would slow down our aging, she could teach me more Ley Line Magic, and then we could meet up with all of you in 1994. Then, when Voldie shows up, blam! He's dead."

Draco stared at Harry for a very long time. He could see some sense in the idea; Harry facing the Dark Lord as a grown up could only improve his odds. Staying behind, though, just wasn't a good idea, at all. Finally, Draco shook his head. "I think I understand where this idea is coming from, Harry, but I think it is bad. I mean, there's no guarantee that Flamel would even help you with the Elixir and without it, your life expectancy is iffy, at best. I mean, I know wizards can live between 200 to 250 years, but they have to have pretty good health and not be accident prone."

Harry sighed heavily. He'd been thinking of this mad scheme for several days. As he thought more about it, it seemed to get better each day. It appeared he had only been deluding himself.

Draco leaned forward. "Harry, this isn't about Voldemort, this idea of yours, is it?"

"I don't think so." Harry fell back against his chair and stared up at the ceiling. "I just don't think it's fair that Lyrica has to stay behind and be all alone. I wish Severus would stay with her, or that she could come with us. I mean, that argument Lyrica and Severus have about not knowing if taking her back to our time would change anything just doesn't make sense to me. Does it matter that much?"

"I'm the last person to debate the Theories of Time, Harry. Paradoxes, time loops, and all that just gives me a headache. None of us know the Arcahnum history. Other than the fact that she's the last Arcahnum, she could easily marry into any wizarding family. What if she gets married and has a kid that winds up being your dad's father? If she came to our time, would you vanish? Then were would we be? Would the Dark Lord be in power?" Draco shrugged.

It was a frightening thought and Harry shuddered. He didn't know his family history other than his father's family were an old Pureblood line. He knew nothing about his grandparents or beyond them on the Potter side and as the Pureblood families were so close... "Ugh!" griped Harry closing his eyes tightly.

"I agree," muttered Draco.

Ron ran his hands over the Mother-of-Pearl inlay on the lute he now thought of his. They could only bring the clothing on their backs and whatever they could shrink and put in their pockets. King Henry picked up the lute and strummed a chord.

"I have no intention of moving on, Master Ronald, so don't be concerned about your lute. I will make arrangements for it to be sent to you in your future. After all, I'll still be around."

Ron grinned and sat down at the large chess set he and The King had just set up. Henry the VIII, always white, moved the first piece. "Lyrica says she'll do her best to make her life a long one," he said sadly as he moved his knight.

"It is fortunate that witches and wizards have such a long life, Ronald."

He nodded. "She's just going to be without us for 90 some years and for us it'll be a few seconds. It's really not fair at all."

"Time, as you know, tends not to matter to we ghosts so this... hm, excessive concern that Lyrica and Sir Raven are showing for the timeline is, well, excessive in my mind. If the man wants her, then so he should take her with him and time be damned!" The King rapped his fist on the table and for a moment the chess pieces all scrambled toward the left side of the board. He waved the chess pieces to get them to return to their places and leaned toward Ron conspiratorially. "Plans are being made, though, plans are being made."

Ron expected some sort of explanation from The King for his cryptic words, but there didn't seem to be one forthcoming. Shrugging his shoulders, he moved his bishop and locked the king into a downward spiral toward checkmate. The King glowered. He hated to lose.

"Harry?" called Lyrica as she knocked on his bedroom doorframe.

Harry sat on his bed reading and looked up. He smiled upon seeing Lyrica. "Something wrong?"

"Not at all, Harry. I just have something I wanted to give you." She stepped slightly to the left and the black and silver Naga slithered into the room and onto Harry's bed. "Kalima has decided that she needs to be with you. Since she's a magical snake, she ought to just be able to wrap around your waist and be safe during the trip back to 1994."

"You can talk to Kalima?" he asked in wonderment.

Lyrica nodded. "Severus told me you and Kalima had spoken to each other. Did he not mention that I am a Parseltongue?"

Harry shook his head and stroked Kalima's body as she curled up. "I've never met another Parseltongue. Did anyone else in your family speak the language?"

Lyrica seated herself on the edge of the bed. "Oh no. I wish it were a natural talent, but it's still very rare. When Kalima came into my life, her language was a gift she gave to me." Lyrica pushed up the sleeve of her dark blue velvet dress on her right arm. Turning her wrist slightly, she showed Harry a small scar that was clearly from a serpent strike. "You need to understand, Harry, that the Naga venom is both life and death. Kalima has given her consent for you to present "your father" with a phial of her venom once each month to be used in potions that will aid all of you when your injuries bring you close to death. Severus must teach you how to milk Kalima's venom as part of a 'gift ritual'." Lyrica smiled and patted Harry's hand as he stroked the beautiful snake's head. "Kalima will teach you both the ritual, so don't worry about it."

Harry embraced Lyrica and she hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much, Lyrica."

"With Kalima protecting my family, my worry for all of you is just a little bit less."

A gentle breeze wafted through the leaves on the trees as Severus worked quietly in the old herb garden to the west side of Ashmere. With the sleeves of an old shirt, the one he'd been wearing the night of detention, rolled up to his elbows, he methodically cleared away the weeds and removed the plants that would not ever return. The earth was dark, rich, and cool as his hands worked. Once or twice he stretched, allowing his back to pop into place. He gave his knees a break when he manually lifted a pile of weeds and dead flora over to a small bonfire.

Conjuring a glass of water, he assuaged his thirst, stretched his back again, and prepared to finish the weeding so he could get the planting done before dinner.

"Mind if I help, Uncle Severus?" Snape turned to see Harry at the far end of the garden, near the corner of the house.

"Have you any experience with gardening beyond Professor Sprout's classes?" he asked without a hint of a sneer.

"Quite a lot, actually," asserted Harry. "If you ever get a chance to visit #4 Privet Drive in Surrey, my aunt's yard looks as good as it does because it's all my work. I'm best with roses."

Snape handed Harry a trowel. "I've done this half of the weeding, you can help me with the rest and then we'll plant the seedlings."

Harry took the trowel and began working on the weeds. He glanced over his shoulder at the tray of seedlings in small pots that were being bathed by slivers of sunshine through a fruit tree. "I recognise all the Muggle herbs, but there's some magical ones I don't quite think I can identify."

Snape paused in his weeding and pointed with his finger, "Wylde Wooten, Amortis Billiweed, Nickelhyde, Pyrhhic Fern... ah... that one you should know. We used it recently."

Harry sat back on his heels and stared thoughtfully at the tiny plant. It was spindly and feathered, almost like Anise was, but it was grey. "Is that Lynnot?" He asked.

Now Snape smirked and Harry glowered. "That's good, Harry. You prepared the Lynnot root and never saw what the actual plant looked like."

"Ha ha," Harry replied with his own good-natured sarcasm. "Never trust a snarky teacher to ask a straightforward question."

The two worked in silence and then Snape spoke up, "Harry, has your godfather, or Lupin told you much about your mother?"

Harry shook his head. "They both talk about dad a lot. The Quidditch games and the Marauder pranks..."

"Hmm, yes, pranks," muttered Snape.

Harry didn't miss the undertone of anger in Snape's muttering and it sent the hairs on his neck to standing. "Severus..." he paused. If he was ever to get at the root of Snape's anger toward his father, and that of Lupin and Sirius as well, he had to ask now. He stopped weeding and faced the man that hadn't had one good word to say to him for his first three years at Hogwarts. "What did my dad do to make you so angry with him that you're still angry?"

For a moment, as Snape dropped the trowel and rested his hands on his knees, Harry could see his frightening professor of Potions boiling behind the dark flint of his eyes. A smaller, younger part of Harry wanted to leap to his feet and run before he was hexed to death, but he stilled his nerves. He wanted an answer.

Snape had honestly hoped to speak to Harry about Lily. He had wanted to tell the child how much his mother had meant to him, and had not expected Harry to ignore his opening. Thinking of James Potter sent a fire to his brain, and made him want to strike out at something. Irrationally, he looked upon Harry and saw his father. But Snape wasn't going to strike out at Harry. He didn't hate Harry. So, he closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and pushed the anger and pain back to the safety of his old memories. He saw Harry visibly relax.

"As you know, I went to Hogwarts the same time that James, Remus, Sirius, and that rat Pettigrew went. We were all in the same year, but obviously not in the same house. The Marauders had a deserved reputation as bullies." Snape stopped to assess how Harry was taking the declaration of him calling his father and his friends bullies. The boy appeared impassive, but was still listening.

"Does Black call me 'Snivellus' still?" asked Snape quietly.

Harry nodded. He'd received several letters as his godfather was on the run that referred to Snape as Snivellus, amongst other, less than flattering, nicknames. "It's obvious Sirius hates you, but I thought it was because you wanted him to get the Dementor's Kiss for having betrayed my mum and dad and killing those Muggles."

"I was certain he deserved it, Harry. After all, I was unconscious when Pettigrew confessed. I did not know that Black was truly innocent of the crime he'd been accused of until the Headmaster enlightened me after Black made his escape. I am sorry that Black spent twelve years in Azkaban for something Pettigrew did, but I still have no love for the man. He was a hyperactive child that took far too much delight in taunting others and his favorite targets were Slytherins. Second on his list was... me."

"That's why you hate Sirius, but... my dad?"

Snape looked into the boy's eyes. "Harry, I would like to be truthful with you, but my recollections of your father are of a much different person than what your godfather or Lupin remembers. He was a child, though, and not all children are nice. Are you certain you want to hear this?"

"Wh-what did he do?" asked Harry. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know, but if he was ever to have a solid, trusting relationship with Severus Snape that would survive the trials ahead of them in 1994, he had to know.

Sighing heavily, Snape shifted his position and sat cross-legged on the ground. He didn't want to delve into these painful memories, but he knew that when he began teaching the teenagers Occlumency, his own memories, including those painful ones, would be vulnerable. Those memories affected Harry and if he didn't come clean, the trust they both needed for the mental discipline would be severely lacking and Harry would learn nothing.

Severus was as silent as a shadow as he followed the Marauders from the castle. Lupin was with them and he looked like he could barely stand on his own. In fact, he stumbled once just before they reached the Whomping Willow and James supported the skinnier boy. Taking refuge behind a grouping of boulders, Severus watched in surprise as Peter Pettigrew changed shape and shrank down into the form of a rat. The rat ran swiftly amongst the swinging, dangerous branches until he reached the tree trunk. Changing again, he pressed a knot in the trunk and the tree stilled. With Potter and Black now completely supporting Lupin, they ducked down into a hollow in the trunk. Pettigrew touched the knot and vanished after his friends.

Severus scowled and settled into his place. Above him the dusky sky became dark and the full moon shone down upon the grounds of Hogwarts. His eyes suddenly widened as a stag emerged from the hollow in the tree. With its antlers it nudged the knot that stilled the vicious branches of the willow. Behind the stag came a fearsome, black dog that resembled the legendary Grim. Suddenly bursting from behind the dog was a silver grey werewolf. Severus was so frightened by the sight that he fell backwards and let out a strangled cry. He cut the palm of his hand on sharp pebbles.

The werewolf paused and sniffed the air. Its sharp, yellow eyes caught movement and bounded toward the prey it knew had blooded itself. Thoughts of blood, flesh rending from bone, sent ripples of animalistic pleasure through its body.

Severus was trapped by his own terror. A werewolf! He had no idea he would have stumbled upon such a dire secret and now his subterfuge was going to get him killed. With his heart beating a staccato, painful beat in his chest, Severus found the ability to move. He dashed toward the left in his panic.

The werewolf could now smell the tantalising tang of fear in the air. It let out a horrific howl as its eyes settled hungrily on the small creature in black before it. Not much meat on the bones, but it would scream.

Severus' panic had only led him into direct line of sight of the fearsome beast and he froze once more, letting out a terrified whimper.

The large dog with a rat clutching its furred ruff, leapt for the werewolf. The stag ran for the teenager. The stag had no time for gentility and caught the boy up in its antlers, spiriting him away from the dog and werewolf that fought briefly. A swipe from the werewolf sent the dog flying until it landed some distance away. Cheated of its prey, the werewolf howled again and sprinted for the Forbidden Forest.

Severus' eyes fluttered open. It hurt to breathe and he was angry to see Potter's worried expression in his face. "Get away, Potter!" he snarled as he tried to get up. Suddenly his vision tunneled and he almost blacked out. Potter gently pushed him back down.

"I'm sorry, Snape, but I think I broke a rib when I grabbed you."

"Bloody Animagus!" growled Snape. "Lupin's a werewolf!"

"Shhhh! Say a word..." James snarled, his voice heavy with threat.

"Severus!"

The most beautiful face in the world replaced Potter's. Lily Evans green eyes bathed him in her concern. She turned to Potter. "What have you been doing out here?" she demanded angrily. "He's very hurt! Get Madame Pomfrey." Potter cast a warning glare at Snape before running off. "Sev, what happened?" Lily brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"They're Animagi, Lily!" he spat. "And Potter broke my rib by attacking me. He's a stag." Severus kept silent about Lupin. He wasn't sure Lily needed to know that. He wanted to see what happened to Pettigrew, Potter and Black after he told Dumbledore everything.

"Here! What has happened to you this time, Mr. Snape?" Madame Pomfrey bustled across the lawn to where Severus lay near the entrance of the castle. Potter was standing off to the side, looking daggers at the Slytherin and tossing jealous glances toward Lily.

"Did you tell Dumbledore?' asked Harry warily.

Snape nodded. "He took a total of 150 points from Gryffindor and 25 points from Slytherin for all of us being out after curfew. Then he awarded your father 100 points for saving my life and made a point of reminding me I then owed James Potter a life debt." The resentment at the unfair punishment was clear on Snape's face.

"What happened to Remus?"

"Although I am certain the Headmaster knew that Lupin was the werewolf, for some reason I chose not to reveal his identity." Harry smiled slightly at this. Snape sneered, "As much as I still hold some fear of what Lupin becomes, I did not then, nor do I now, blame him for acting upon instinct. I do, however, hold him responsible for condoning what his friends did."

Harry was silent for a moment and then spoke shyly and questioningly, "My mother seemed concerned about you."

Snape dropped his head into his hand. If anything, memories of Lily were harder to reveal than all the pranks and the night he was almost killed. His memories of Lily he had long guarded jealously and kept close to his heart. He spoke quietly, not yet looking up at Harry. "I first met your mother in a park behind my house, when she and I were eight years old. From that day forward, we were as close as two best friends could be. It was devastating to Lily when the Sorting Hat put her in Gryffindor. She did not wish to be separated from me. Despite the different houses, our friendship continued." Snape raised his head and looked past Harry's shoulder. "My relationship with Lily may have been the catalyst for the Marauders to single me out above all the others they went after. I suppose it didn't help that I gave as good as I got. By the end of our first year, I think Madame Pomfrey was sick of all five of us. She had very little patience after that in healing our various injuries."

"Were my dad and his friends never punished for what they did to you?" Harry asked.

Snape shook his head. "Beyond points and once in awhile a detention with McGonagall, they were not punished." Snape smirked sharply and focused his gaze on Harry. "I believe that I served more detentions and did more lines and extra essays than you've ever done."

Harry snorted and grinned. "Give me time. I've only been in school for three years."

"Merlin forbid, Harry!" Snape smiled tightly.

"Severus..." Harry began tentatively, "If you and my mother were such good friends, what happened?"

This was the question that had Snape's stomach roil tightly. As bad as the night he nearly lost his life, this memory was worse. Buried behind layers of Occlumency, there were nights that his dreams were still haunted by that single day.

Severus wasn't very good at Transfiguration. There was a test tomorrow, a practical, and he needed more than just a good grade. He wanted to be a Healer and although he really didn't understand why an 'O' in Transfiguration was required on his NEWTs he intended to get it if he had to practice every hour possible. He had gone to his and Lily's tree to practice. Lily was in the library and would meet him later to help him. In the meantime, he worked with buttons and blades of grass and quills, transfiguring them into diamonds, rabbits, and various other objects and animals. He had yet to perfectly execute any of the Transfigurations and was beginning to lose his patience.

"Levicorpus!"

Severus went flying upward until he was hanging awkwardly upside-down from his right ankle. His book and wand fell from his hands and his robes obscured his face as they fell toward the earth. He coloured deeply as he realised his underwear, grey and worn, was exposed for all to see. Black was whistling and jeering, drawing more students to the spectacle. Severus wondered if that milquetoast Lupin was just watching with his weak, disapproving and pitying look. He struggled as he heard a voice, Potter's, sharp and angry in his ear.

"I'll find out what that cutting curse was you used on me, you little freak, and then I'm going to rip you to shreds. You're lucky it only grazed me, bastard!"

"If I'd meant to cut you any deeper, Potter, you wouldn't have your wand hand now!" snarled Snape as he twisted angrily.

"James Potter! Let go of him!" Lily had arrived and screamed at the taller boy.

"Ohhh, lookee! Snivelly's girlfriend to the rescue again!" crowed Black.

"You're a bully, James and if you don't let him down, NOW, I'll hex you every night in your sleep. LET. HIM. GO!"

Severus suddenly slammed to the ground, smacking his head hard enough to bring a quick lump to the crown of his skull and stars to his eyes. Despite the nausea that the pain in his head and having been upside-down was causing, he rolled to his feet. Lily came running over to him and before he could get his emotions under control, he lashed out at her. "I don't need your help, you filthy, little Mudblood!"

In that moment time stopped. The laughter, the applause and cat-calls from those watching was silenced. No one moved. Severus was not aware of anyone or anything around him. He was forever caught by the look of horror, anger, and pain in Lily's face. He felt his heart tearing into pieces as he fought to say something, anything, to take back what he'd called her. His mouth gaped open.

CRACK!

Lily's hand connected sharply with his cheek leaving an instant red imprint. The pain in her eyes was now protected by blazing anger. Her words were cold, biting, and stabbed deeply into his ravaged heart. "You are thoughtless, Severus Snape!" Pushing him hard in the chest, she did not watch as he fell to the ground. Lily spun away, leaving him.

Although he had tried to apologise later the two friends never spoke again. A few nights later he went with Lucius Malfoy to take the Dark Mark.

Harry frowned and stabbed the ground with his trowel. Snape watched him carefully. As much as he felt Harry had a right to retaliate in his mother's defense, or to rebuke him, deep down inside the Potions Master hoped the boy would understand. He was not prepared for what Harry haltingly said.

"My mother... I don't know... she should have... I wish she'd accepted your apology."

"Really?" asked Snape who was rather stunned by the stammered declaration. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, Hermione forgave Draco for calling her Mud... you know. They've only known each a short time. You and my mother were best friends. For years. That means you told each other lots of stuff. She had to know what you were dealing with in your house. I know Malfoy and his cronies had to be talking about Muggles and such badly all the time. Then, to be bullied everyday, almost killed, and humiliated... Uncle Severus, my mother should have understood what was going on! It doesn't make sense that she'd never speak to you again!" Snape was astonished, though he didn't show it. "Harry was actually angry, not at him, but at his sainted mother.

"Look," said Harry as he stabbed the ground again a few times with the trowel he was still holding. "I haven't heard much about my mum except that I was told she had a 'great capacity for compassion and befriended everyone'. I could understand it if mum might be angry for awhile at you. You'd deserve that much, but to never accept your apology? That doesn't sound like her."

"Harry, I took the Dark Mark only a few days later. If Lily were going to forgive me in any way, that severed any possibility."

"That shouldn't have mattered!" shouted Harry indignantly. Now Snape was getting concerned. He started to say something to calm the boy, but Harry glared. "She was your best friend, Severus! Did you apologise to her?"

"I waited outside the Gryffindor tower portrait all night to talk to her with the intention of apologising, but she wouldn't talk to me."

"Did anyone talk to you that night?"

Snape's features suddenly darkened. "Only Black did. He was rather... expansive in describing to me how much Lily despised me."

"Sirius." Harry scowled and once again Snape was caught off guard. He knew how quickly Harry had become attached to the escaped prisoner who now was in hiding under Dumbledore's protection. The Potions professor did not think he'd be able to say one negative word about the annoying mutt, yet Harry's demeanor was pointedly upset, and not at his teacher.

Harry wanted to believe the best about Sirius, but he'd had enough letters from his fugitive godfather to know that Sirius Black's feelings toward Snape were a deep, unrelenting hate laced with jealousy. Even when Harry himself had only derisive comments to say about the Potions instructor, he'd never wished for death for the man and Sirius' rather constant 'joking' barbs about tainting the wizard's potions or luring the man to his death from the Astronomy Tower unnerved Harry at times. He had rebuked Sirius a few times in reply and Black's own replies were laced with thinly veiled jealousy. Harry would talk or write to Remus, but Remus' argument never changed; the two men had hated each other in school and they'd never left that hate behind.

Did you ever tell mum about your... d... your mark? Did you tell anyone?"

The older man's glare got even darker and he stabbed his trowel deeply into the dirt. "No one was absolutely certain I'd taken the Dark Mark until the night I went to Dumbledore. At that point, he knew about it, as did Madame Pomfrey. It wasn't until the night your parents were killed that the inner members of the Order of the Phoenix knew I'd been spying and had been marked by the Dark Lord."

"Tell me about my mum, Severus," the abrupt change had Snape backtracking and switching gears mentally. He watched Harry studiously weeding his patch of the garden but could see no clue to the boy's line of questioning in his stiffly hunched over posture.

Turning to his own patch of weeds, he began to tell Harry about his mother. "Lily was a very bright child with an open heart that held more compassion than I could ever fathom. After we were sorted into different houses, I thought it was certain I'd never speak to her again. Imagine my surprise the very next morning at breakfast, Lily defied all convention and left the Gryffindor table to come and sit by me. I was pleased to see her, but my housemates and my head of house weren't at all happy. Oddly enough it was Headmaster Dumbledore who quashed the little furor over Lily's bold move. She wasn't permitted to sit with me at lunch and dinner, but breakfast she was allowed."

"Lily had a stubborn streak that often surprised people, including me." Snape stopped weeding and sat back on his heels for a moment. "I recall one summer, I think it was after our third year, Lily and I were at the park where we first met. It was never a very busy park, but on Saturdays it was often populated by mothers and their small children. A group of older boys that we'd never seen in our neighborhoods showed up and began picking on this one little kid. I don't know where his mother was, but no one was helping him and he was scared." Harry had stopped weeding and was giving his attention to Snape's story. "Lily was small, willowy, and on a good day it looked like she might be taken up by a swift breeze and carted off to the Land of Oz. Anyone, Muggle or Wizard, who underestimated her only did so once. Before I could stop her, Lily had crossed the playground and was giving the three boys a piece of her mind. Of course they didn't take her seriously."

"What happened? Did she hex them?" Harry asked, enthralled by the imagined image of his mother standing down three tall bullies.

"Oh no! We couldn't do magic, but I learned that day that Lily was quite proficient in Muggle street fighting." A tiny smile quirked the corner of the Potions Master's mouth and a glimmer of mirth touched his eyes. "It was a thing of beauty watching her take those bullies down in less than 60 seconds. They ran from the park, crying for their mothers."

Harry laughed. "Oh I wish I could have seen that!"

Snape regarded Harry. He could see James in the boy, but within the teenager were the aspects of Lily that he had prized and fallen in love with so very long ago. "I am certain you've been told countless times that you have Lily's eyes, Harry, but I want you to know that I have learned that you also have your mother's boundless capacity for fairness, compassion, and love. I am... fortunate... that I have been able to see this within you."

Harry's smile faded somewhat and respect for the older wizard glowed in his emerald green eyes. "If she was like me, Uncle Severus, then my mum would have forgiven you for calling her 'mudblood'. She would have wanted to talk to you if she'd known you were waiting for her outside the Gryffindor Common Room." He saw the shadow of doubt ghost across the man's eyes and he leaned over and placed his hand firmly on Snape's arm. "I know this, sir," he said staunchly. "My mum would have been angry, but if she'd known you regretted what you said, she would have forgiven you, even with that mark on your arm."

In the darkness of his bedroom in the east wing of Ashmere, Severus Snape lay awake. Tomorrow they would return to Hogwarts where they would enchant the Mirror of Erised and return to their time. His fingers drifted over the heavily burnt lines of the Dark Mark on his forearm. He had awakened from a nightmare in which the mark had flared up, burning sharply. He had not answered the summons from the Dark Lord and the pain had become agonising. This is what he would be returning to. Snape had meant what he'd told Hermione a few days ago; he would not take up the mantle of spy for the Order again. Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione were his priority, as were his Snakes, and all the children at Hogwarts. If the vision Harry had received from the Holly King on Christmas was to be believed, he had only a year to prepare Harry to face the Dark Lord.

That afternoon at lunch Ron had proposed that Snape and Harry teach a secret Dark Arts class that would incorporate the lessons Lyrica had taught them about Ley Line Magic. Alastor Moody was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but Snape had doubts about the man; doubts he'd brought to Dumbledore but were dismissed, as usual. Snape had an uncomfortable past association with Moody and although the two men had come to a quietly mutual dislike in recent years, the Potions Master had felt something 'off' about the ex-auror since he arrival at Hogwarts.

A whispering sussuruss outside his door had Snape automatically reaching for his wand. He waited for the inevitable knock from one of the children, but instead, the lock on his door snicked open. The door swung slowly open.

"Severus."

"Lyrica?" He sat up and charmed his wand to light up.

Lyrica had closed his door behind her and locked it again. She padded softly over to his bedside where she sat down. "I have to let you go tomorrow, Severus, but I won't let you go tonight." She leaned in to kiss him. Snape drew her closer, unwilling to refuse her desire as much as his own. The light of his wand blinked out, leaving them to their embraces in the privacy of the darkness.

April 10th, 1899, 10:15am

Holding tightly to Harry's hand, Snape watched as first Ron stepped through the portgate, then Hermione, then Draco. Harry then prepared to step through and Snape turned to look at Lyrica. All his hopes and dreams were in her eyes. Everything he'd ever wanted was in her arms and her kisses. Once before he had let someone into his heart. It had been his fault when it had all gone sour, but from the day he had rejected Lily Evans help and had uttered the worst possible insult to her, he had closed his heart to love. He never expected his frozen heart to thaw, ever again. He had gone through so much with Lyrica. She had not only thawed his heart but made it possible for him to further open his heart and soul to an unconventional family.

Just as Harry stepped into the Mirror of Erised, Snape stretched out his hand to Lyrica...