A few days later Brogan tripped through the floo again and landed on the floor of the Lovegood house.  She was nervous and shy about visiting Luna, so much so that her Da had offered her a calming draught.  She had refused of course, with a face, but somehow knowing the alternative helped her get a hold of herself.  Severus had hugged her before she left and assured her that if she had a miserable time she could always just come home.  It choked her up so bad she almost reconsidered the calming draught but then she just gathered up her Gryffindor courage and went for it. 

She had known that whatever she managed to imagine Luna’s house would be hugely different and so it was.  It was also hugely wonderful.  Aunt Petunia was a strict sort of housekeeper, she liked things as sterile as possible.  Mrs. Weasley was not sterile in the slightest (ha!) but she still had a certain sense of decorum, a tidy aesthetic that she struggled mightily to achieve (even though her children were gone it was still a country house).

The Lovegood house had no decorum at all, it was passably clean but not the slightest bit tidy.  Some huge sort of experiment took up the entire dining room table and every where Brogan looked there was something odd leaning against something else odd, creativity was dripping from the rafters.

“Luna, your house is wonderful!  I’ve never been in a house like this, it’s so interesting.” 

Luna hugged the shorter girl, “Oh, I’m so glad you like it, the visit would have been very awkward indeed if it gave you the heebie jeebies.”

They spent a pleasant afternoon touring the house and discussing the different projects going on in the different corners.  It segued neatly into dinner which they prepared together and Luna was suitably impressed with Brogan’s mad culinary skills.  Brogan learned that cooking was fun when you did it with someone else and chatted, and were allowed to sit at the table and eat after too.

It seemed like no time at all and they were climbing up to Luna’s bedroom.  It was a cozy little space and rather than have her father transfigure an extra bed which would have been a really tight squeeze they had just made Luna’s bed bigger.  Brogan got misty at the thoughtfulness of her friend, and that was before Luna thrust a small sparkly package at her.

“Merry Christmas Harry,” said Luna.  Luna had been very careful about calling Brogan Brogan all day, with her father pottering about the house too, but now they were alone.

“Thanks Luna,” said Brogan opening it carefully.  “Umm, what is it?”

Luna held the object up by a little ring in what must have been the top, hanging vertically like that Brogan suddenly recognized it, “oh, it’s a dream catcher!  Wait, do those things actually work?”

“We’ll see won’t we?  The ones made by real shamans in America work but I made this one special for you so it hasn’t been tested yet.”

She pointed at the willow ring, “Whomping willow, willow of course; it’s a bit aggressive but I thought that trait might be called for to stand up to your nightmares.

I got the yarn from Mrs. Weasley, I know how fond you are of her and her sweaters so I thought that would be good.  It’s red for Gryffindor,” she pointed at one web-like creation, “and green for Slytherin,” there was another web occupying the other half of the ring.  “The feathers are from Hedwig of course, she’s so fond of you and also quite protective so I thought that would be good.  And then there are other little bits and bobs, a crystal that’s supposed to be healing, a rock that has good vibes, but mostly they’re just to make it more interesting.”

She gave her creation a little whirl, “What do you think?”

“Luna, it’s so thoughtful and wonderful, even if it doesn’t catch a dream it’s already brought me good feelings.”

“I can’t believe all that poetry and sappiness was trapped in a boy body for all those years,” said Luna wistfully.

“Shut it you,” grumbled Brogan and she lifted the catcher out of Luna’s hand so she could inspect it better herself.

When she first put her head on the pillow that night Brogan’s mind was whirling with all the things she had seen that day and all the ridiculous discussions they had over the things she had seen.  Her mind felt very busy but busy with frivolous thoughts: she hadn’t thought about whether she was really a boy or a girl all day, she hadn’t thought of the war or Death Eaters, she hadn’t thought about Snape and her mother’s affair, she hadn’t thought about anywhere she needed to be or anything she needed to do, it was just a day with a friend, it was like a vacation or something.  She slept well that night. 

The next day was just as relaxing, although they did choose to mix it up a bit and meet  with Ron and Ginny.  The girls were sitting close together on the couch, driven to such proximity by the piles of papers taking up the rest of the space.  Brogan had her legs stretched out to the coffee table in front of them, her heels were resting on another tottering stack of paper and she was wiggling her toes to make the pom-poms on her slippers bounce; both were still in their pyjamas.

“So,” Luna started, “I guess we can start with here or there?”

“I’m thinking there because Mrs. Weasley might make scones for us.”

“Scones are good.  I’m sure we can make our own scones though and cooking last night was fun.”

“Well, we have to make dinner again tonight so we’ll still get that fun and Mrs. Weasley is an uncommonly good baker -have you tried her scones?”

“Okay, but how do we invite ourselves over there.  That seems a bit awkward, I mean I’m friends with them and I know they aren’t that far away but I’ve never been to the Burrow.”

Brogan flapped a hand, “don’t even worry about it, Ron’s expecting us to meet up.  We just have to call him.”  She struggled a bit with the gravity of the couch and Luna helped shove her up, “where’s your powdery stuff, what’s it called?”

“Floo powder Brogan, it’s in that jar on the mantel.  No, not that jar, not that one, you’re getting closer I think it’s that one.  Wait, is it green?  Try the next one.”  With a huff Brogan dragged Luna off the couch and together they peeked inside the dozens of jars filling up the mantel.

They were very giggly indeed by the time Brogan had successfully initiated her first floo call, Ron was deeply amused to see the laughing girls.  If he had ever seen Harry so carefree and giggly before he wasn’t sure when.  Their hair was a wreck and they still had their jammies on, when they decided (telepathically?) they were laughing too hard to actually talk through the floo they just reached out to try and pull Ron to them. 

Ron laughed too and pulled back a little, he stood up and told them in a slightly admonishing voice, “Let me check with Mum okay?  I’ll tell her you need help with a jar or something.”  He gave them a bright smile and disappeared.

He came back a few minutes later and was amused to find the daft birds still in his fireplace.

Luna managed to make enough room on the couch for Ron too and as they sat there ‘planning the day’ Ron entertained himself with the pom poms on Brogan’s slippers.  “You have seriously worn these in the Slytherin common room?”

“Yeah, and Blaise was every bit as engrossed by them as you are.”  Brogan informed him fondly.

“So why are you still in your jammies?” Ron asked as his ears turned pink.  “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I slept fine mum.  Luna made me a dream catcher for Christmas, let me get it.”  and Brogan leaped off the couch, ‘forgetting’ that her foot had been in Ron’s lap while he played with her poms and causing him to groan a bit.

Ginny came through a while later, trying to discover what had happened to Ron.  She was shocked to find him engrossed in a project at the Lovegood’s dining room table, they had decided to build a second dream catcher for hanging in Ron’s bed, mostly because Ron thought it was cool looking and Luna had extra supplies.

When Brogan finally returned home she could swear that her cheeks hurt from smiling so much for days on end.  Severus was very pleased, and next she was scheduled to visit Paris. 

A day later she put on the outfit that Astoria had told her to wear and met her father in the living room.  Brogan was wearing boots, tights, a wool skirt and a sweater, she had a cape too which made her feel stupid and she kept flicking off and on her shoulders.  Her da walked over and adjusted it then slapped her hands away.  She was also wearing the dragon necklace of course and make up (because Astoria made her swear that she would).

Dumbledore had procured an international portkey for them and they strolled to the front gates together.  They arrived in a big old fashioned terminal; Brogan stumbled a bit but she was craning her head and gazing around before her feet knew what was what. “Where are we?” she breathed.

“Lovely isn’t it?  It’s an old metro station that the French Ministry more or less appropriated.  In fairness it’s an inconvenient stop and the muggles weren’t using it very often, they basically put a notice-me-not charm on it and took it over, similar to platform 9 3/4.”  Severus had his hand on her shoulder to keep her from toppling while she continued to look around.  There were stalls along the edges selling books and flowers and pastries; it was so much like a picture in an old story book that he smiled despite himself and left Brogan to gawk as much as she wanted, well he did gently lead her to a side so another portkey wouldn’t land on them.

It was ironic that the person so engrossed in seeing everything around her was the one oblivious to Draco walking up to meet them.  Draco was trying to wear an amused smirk on his face as he approached, he dearly would have loved to make some sort of sneer at Severus who was watching Brogan twirl around with the most besotted expression ever in the history of the world but Draco had no faith at all in his own lack of besottment.  He figured, rightly, that his own expression was probably just as bad so he just walked up and waited with Severus.

Soon enough he was noticed though and Brogan launched herself at him, “this place is wonderful, I wish I spoke French, I’m so glad we didn’t have a big breakfast I can smell the croissants from here, and did you see all the flowers, do you think we can get some for your mum, this place is wonderful, do you speak French, what are we going to do today?  are we going outside too?”

“You do look as though you might be content just to explore the terminal today don’t you?”  Draco managed to catch a few of the questions but only answered the last one.

Snape’s besotted look melted away in the face of so much energy and enthusiasm for such touristy things, “Alright then Mr. Malfoy, we shall rendezvous at 7:00 for supper at Le Prétentieux Renard; your mother will be meeting us there as well?”

“Oui, professeur.”

“Tres bien, au revoir.”

Brogan did the chic thing and kissed her father on the cheek, “Au revoir papa.”

Snape chortled (if you knew him you would notice that’s what it was) as he disappeared into the crowd; his hand did drift up to his cheek though, he rested his fingertips there a moment as if the spot was tingling.

Draco bought Brogan un petit pain de chocolat just to tide her over before he dragged her up onto the streets and they began their whirlwind tour. 

It was hours and hours later when two exhausted and rosy cheeked teens, weighted down with many many bags raced each other to the door of the tres chic restaurant, they were almost more than fashionably late.  Narcissa Malfoy felt a little pull to glare or rebuke her son for his behavior but the more time she spent away from her husband the smaller that pull became, and also Draco looked very very happy.

It wasn’t possible to keep news of Severus suddenly having a daughter from Narcissa, she was in contact with too many other Slytherin parents and it was the juiciest gossip of the year.  The mystery of the child’s mother was what made it so choice and given the close ties between the Malfoy clan and Severus many had gone to Narcissa hoping for more information.  She only had one possible candidate, and that was impossible, so she remained close-mouthed and mysterious; which in fairness she probably would have been anyway.

The mystery did niggle at her though and when Draco wanted Brogan to visit over the holidays meeting the girl was her only condition, and not an unreasonable one.  Narcissa didn’t mind that they were meeting in public and for as brief a time as Severus dared to suggest, she just wanted to lay eyes upon this Brogan and see if she could pin down her parentage.  It took about three seconds from when Brogan walked in and came to a halt in front of her chair.

Draco politely introduced her, “Mother this is my girlfriend, Brogan.”

Everyone gave Narcissa a moment to decide how she would handle her new information.  It was possible she might leap across the table and stab her wand into Severus’ Dark Mark, summoning the Dark Lord and restoring the honor of her family while sending Severus and Brogan to their deaths.  It was possible that all of her money woes could end now, she could blackmail Severus and probably Dumbledore into paying her handsomely for her silence.  It was also possible that Snape could whip his wand out and curse her into eternal silence on the matter.

The moment seemed to drag on, Brogan nervously clasped her hands in front of her -nails digging in and skin turning white.  Draco reached over calmly to pry them apart and link his own fingers with Brogans, squeezing -but a bit gentler and much more reassuring.  Narcissa watched and decided.

“Miss Snape, it’s a pleasure.  Draco has told me ever so much about you.”  She leaned over to politely brush her lips across Brogan’s cheek, they were in Paris after all.  “Child, you’re half frozen.”  She put a hand on Draco’s cheek too, “You as well.  Why don’t you both head to the sanitaire and get cleaned up?”

Hesitantly they departed and Narcissa sat down again, “you had best order a very expensive glass of wine for me Severus.  And then start talking fast.

I was a bit ahead of you at Hogwarts but I noticed your friendship with a certain red-haired Gryffindor girl.  You can’t be fooling very many people.”

Severus looked down, not embarrassed but conceding the point that it was a rather obvious truth they were trying to cover up with some scar cream and an eye charm.  The wine he had ordered when he arrived at the restaurant first was brought over just then, he nodded his approval and the sommelier poured giving Severus another moment.

“I had no idea, about anything, until this summer.  It has been a difficult adjustment, for Brogan more than anyone else I’m sure, but we are adjusting and I must say I find myself pleased.”

“Pleased, ha!  I have heard from more than just Draco that you are enchanted with your daughter.  I’m not surprised, she looks a good deal like her mother and I know you loved her. 

I was worried, I’ll admit,” said Narcissa pausing to swirl her wine,  “when I first heard you had a daughter.  I feared your child might have been conceived ill-advisedly or for some treacherous end, I was certain you knew nothing about her existence before this summer.  But now I think I understand enough, I remember those days and I remember your devotion to Brogan’s mother. 

You are walking an exceedingly dangerous path and I am not happy to see Draco accompanying you but I will trust the both of you that this is worth it.  That she is worth it.”

And with that the teens returned, making a little extra noise on their way.  The rest of the evening wasn’t quite charming but at least it wasn’t uneasy.

A few days later the Hogwarts Express rolled into Hogsmeade and the castle came to life again.  Brogan had a quick consultation with Hermione and they decided to meet the next night in the Room of Requirement.  Brogan hadn’t asked her father or Dumbledore for permission to tell her friends about the horcruxes, she didn’t want them to tell her she couldn’t.  But honestly, she wondered, how could they expect her to not talk to them?  Did they think she was going to research what they were without Draco and Hermione?

At the appointed hour she and Draco walked to the room and found the two couches and fire, and snack, just as they had been last time.  Ron and Hermione were already on their couch so Draco and Brogan took the other, but not before Hermione popped up and gave Brogan a hug.

“You look so good, like well-rested good, has one of the potions been working?” asked Hermione.

Brogan smiled easily at the odd compliment, “Yeah, I’ve been taking an orange one that seems to work okay but Luna gave me a dream catcher for Christmas and I think that’s working too.”

“Really?  Did she tell you what elements she used?”

“Mm hm, Whomping Willow, Weasley yarn, Hedwig feathers; she did a good job on it.  It’s cool looking too.”

Draco had always been a bit horrified concerning the social suicide of Brogan’s friendship with Luna Lovegood but over the months he had to concede that the benefits outweighed the drawbacks of being seen with the odd girl.  A dream catcher really was an elegant solution and he knew that Severus had slapped himself over not thinking of it first.  Draco was even considering making a second dream catcher for Brogan with elements specific to their own relationship, he had a vision of forty of fifty of the things lined up around the perimeter of her bed making an impenetrable love bubble.  (He actually used the term love bubble too, it was only in that squishy part of his heart after all.)

He got some food and let them chat, sitting back on the couch and waiting for the call to order or whatever.  Brogan sat down right next to him and pulled up her legs, she was wearing those black cargo pants again and a gray sweater.  She wrapped her arms around her knees, clearly signalling to everyone whether she knew it or not that whatever she was going to tell them was disturbing and scary for her.  The mood of the room shifted and for a moment it looked as though Ron might get up and move to her other side, but Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders first and hauled her as close as possible.

With a shaky breath Brogan began, “Okay, so at Slug’s party you guys probably saw me talking to Dumbledore, he was asking me to come view another memory.  I guess you should know that it was after he pretty much told me I had to attend Slug’s party and dress nice and be nice to him.”  She paused while Draco growled remembering the Headmaster’s words.

“So he was telling me that I had to see these next memories and I told him only if Da said I could or if Da came with me.  And actually Da spoke to me about that later so I guess I should explain that I didn’t say that because I was scared or worried I’d see something upsetting, it was probably just to tick off the Headmaster.  Sometimes I feel like he took advantage of me before because I was an orphan and I’m not anymore.  So that was that fight and then he spoke to Severus and we ended up going together to see the memory.

It was some stuff about Tom’s mother and her family, they were Gaunts.”  Ron and Draco both made the same sort of ‘oh, of course’ grunt while Hermione just made a squeaky ‘must look that up’ noise.  Brogan continued, “The Gaunt family were descended from Salazar Slytherin, the father and son spoke parseltongue just like Tom does.  They were really poor and kind of damaged, like inbred damaged I guess.  No offense to any purebloods present,”  Brogan managed a smile to Ron and Draco.

“So we saw that disaster and then we saw Tom at Hogwarts in his sixth or seventh year and Slug was his Head of House.  Slug had one of his little gatherings and then it was just him and Tom and they spoke about horcruxes.”  Brogan paused again and looked up to see if there was a flicker of recognition on anyone.  There wasn’t, which was a little inconvenient but mostly reassuring.

“A horcrux is a magical object that you create by committing murder, the violence tears your soul apart and you can send that torn off bit into an object, for safety.  The reason that Tom didn’t die when the curse he cast on me rebounded is because he had a horcrux anchoring his soul here.”

“The diary was a horcrux then?” asked Hermione and who wouldn’t be proud of her quick wits?

“Yeah, but...”

“But you destroyed that in second year and he was still resurrected in fourth year so he made more than one.”

“Exactly.”

“How many?” asked Ron.

“You don’t know,” guessed Draco, “but Dumbledore thinks that Slughorn does and he wants Brogan to find out from him.”

“Exactly,” said Brogan, feeling loads lighter.  “The Gaunt family had a ring that was passed down through the generations, Tom made that a horcrux too but Dumbledore found it over the summer and managed to destroy it.  That’s when his hand got cursed.

There was a locket too, the Gaunts had a locket that was supposed to belong to Slytherin.  Dumbledore thinks that Tom got a hold of that and made a horcrux from it too.”

“Anything else?” asked Draco, “Do they have any guesses for what else he might have used?  I mean we could look through old Prophets and see what was stolen...”

“Yeah, there was a cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff.  And, there’s another one that Da and Dumbledore think they know, Nagini.  The way he can control her, it’s an uncommon bond and they think she might be a horcrux.”

“A living thing?” asked Hermione.  “Isn’t that risky?  What if she chokes on a goat?”

“What?” said Ron, his head had been jerking back and forth following the volley of questions.  “Choke on a goat?  Is that what huge snakes eat?”

Brogan started giggling at the image and combined with the relief of finally telling her friends this horrible news, the giggling quickly got out of control. It spread to the other Gryffindors and while they were able to get back on track it all seemed a bit easier to swallow (!) now.

They ended the night by assigning homework: Hermione was to research horcruxes, Draco was to research lost or stolen magical artifacts, and Ron was to research how to choke and/or poison snakes.

“What’s my job then?” asked Brogan.

“Get close to Slughorn and find out how many there are.” said Ron.  “Sorry mate, the Headmaster was right we need to know and you are our best bet.”

Brogan pouted but nodded her acquiescence.  Ron and Hermione packed up so they could leave first.  Ron gave Draco a strange look as he clasped Hermione’s hand and led her to the door, Brogan didn’t notice it though she was selecting a biscuit from the tray between the couches.  Draco gave Ron a sort of, let’s talk later nod, and Ron left.

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he felt wrecked but he didn’t want to show it yet.  Brogan elbowed him, “that would be a switch, you sacking out up here.”

Draco opened his eyes and smiled, “It would.  You really do look well rested and all that, I’m glad.  I’m sure you’re relieved about sharing all this horcrux nastiness too.”

Brogan nodded, “yeah, well Da knows too and we talked about it a bit.  I mean I know you don’t want word to get out because then he might make more but it seems like it would be dumb to just tell one teenager and put all that responsibility on them.  What if I decided to bugger it and run away to France with you?”

“Mmm, don’t even suggest it.  That was such a wonderful day, I would go back with you in a heartbeat.  Even if there wasn’t a deranged inbred mass murderer chasing us both.”

Draco moved over to the corner of the couch so he could stretch his long legs out along the length of it and put his head against the cushions.  Brogan moved to his lap and stretched out on top of him, Draco wrapped his arms around her and hoped she wouldn’t notice the way his heart was pounding.

She must have, her cheek was on his chest but she didn’t say anything.  She threaded their fingers together and just laid there for a while, finally though she spoke.  “Are you upset that your father had one of the horcruxes?  It actually turned out well that he did because we know that one is destroyed now and we know that basilisk venom destroys them, and we know that he trusted at least one Death Eater to keep a horcrux.  Da thinks he might have given another to Bellatrix if he gave your father one.”

“Oh yes, the basilisk that bit you too?  That turned out well did it?”

“Shush, you know what I meant.  I’m here now, safe and sound, snug as a bug in a rug.”  To further prove her point she dragged herself up from Draco’s chest until she could reach his lips and kiss him.  The kiss was well received.

Later, a fair bit later, Draco dropped Brogan off at Severus’s quarters and continued down the hall.  Brogan probably thought he was going to the dorm but he was heading straight for Snape’s lab.  His steps got slower and more uneven as he got closer, wanting to talk to Snape, desperate to talk to Snape and yet, he felt like it would be nice to put it off forever and ever too.  Finally he arrived, but even then he decided to knock.  Maybe he would be sent away, maybe it was a bad time, maybe he could come back next week or next month.

Severus opened the door.  Draco stood there looking shaky and white, Severus stepped back to let him in but Draco was leaning so heavily on the wall that he didn’t seem able to take another step.  He reached out and fisted his professor’s robe, he opened his mouth and only silence came out for a moment and then a great hitching breath.  Draco looked up at his professor’s eyes and saw the grief, he was right and his professor knew it too.  Finally he seemed able to speak, “he made her one too didn’t he?  She’s a.. a..”

Snape reached out and viciously jerked Draco into the room before he could finish, he slammed the door shut and then swung his free arm up so that he was gripping Draco by both shoulders.  Draco didn’t care, he had kept from acknowledging the thought for as long as he could but now that he had said it, or close enough said it, now that he knew that Severus thought so too and Brogan didn’t know, couldn’t know, could never ever know...  Now he was safe enough to fall apart and cry or break things.  Cry first he decided stepping up to his professor and wrapping his arms around him.

Severus had already broken things, he had secretly longed for the catharsis of tears too though and that’s what he got as he wrapped his arms around Draco and stood with him.  It was a relief to have someone else know, he didn’t envy either of them in trying to keep this from Brogan, but now they could work together and figure something out.  And after they had a solution, or maybe a few solutions, then they could go to Brogan together and gently, so gently, so so gently, they could tell her.

Late that night Filch dragged a student before a livid Minerva McGonagall, she was in the tartan dressing gown and her hair, the bits that had escaped from the long braids down her back, was crackling.  “Mr. Weasley, what on earth did you think you were doing destroying Hogwarts property in the middle of the night!?”

Ron’s face was white but his eyes were red and burning, he brushed his cheek where a splinter from an exploding chair had scratched him, “I just wanted to break things ma’am.”  He answered softly.