Stiff, frozen fingers struggled to dip the quill in the ink bottle then raise the quill to a small parchment scroll. Eileen shivered against the stone brick wall, her breath puffing out visible in front of her as she slowly scribbled on the parchment to the best of her ability, fighting against her trembling hands.

               My dear Severus, she wrote, I hope you are having a peaceful and safe Christmas. I have so much to tell you . . .

               Every muscle contracted and Eileen hissed as she hugged her knees to her chest, relishing in the small warmth she managed to feel. After several long minutes, she unfolded herself, and stared down at her parchment, her breath hitching in time with her shivers. She felt a lump swell in her throat and warm, salty tears burned her eyes. She closed them, imagining her son’s sweet, cheeky smile he often wore for her. Something inside her, a mother instinct she thought, was screaming that there was something wrong, and it had everything to do with Severus. Her thoughts were that Severus had not heeded her advice to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas.

               She had been meaning to write a Christmas note to her boy anyway, but she had only hoped it would have been under different circumstances.

               Dear Severus, it would say, I am writing to you from the warmth of our beautiful home in southern Scotland, and I hope this letter finds you well, for I will not be far behind it. Today is a new beginning for us, and you and I will finally be free of Tobias Snape. I will pick you up from the train station myself, and we will enjoy a wonderful Christmas dinner of warm turkey with stuffing, potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, roasted parsnips, and my mother’s green bean casserole. And for dessert, what better than Christmas pudding? I look forward to seeing you very soon and we will never be apart again. I love you and miss you greatly, Mum.

               Eileen startled awake from the dream she had found herself in, where she served herself and Severus a warm dinner in a cozy house, then tucked her boy in a full-sized bed under thick blankets. She blinked down at the near-blank parchment, then shuddered. She lifted the quill to the parchment.

               . . . but first, I am sorry that I am not there this Christmas. I needed to find us a better life, and it’s been very hard as a woman with no expertise in any particular field. And with house elves, no one needs a housekeeper or babysitter. And there are those who cannot afford one. I have been wandering for days in search of a job, picking up small tasks here and there for little pay. And here I am, Christmas Eve, jobless, broke, and homeless.

               Eileen paused as she choked back some tears. Thinking about her next words. Her body was growing numb to the cold wind and her skin was turning blue where the ruined soles of her shoes exposed her feet. She considered her next words carefully.

               I even sold my wand so I could write this letter to you.

               Eileen scribbled that sentence out. Severus did not need to know the measures she had taken to ensure her boy knew he was loved and not forgotten. He did not need to know that she was not great at wandless magic and was practically defenseless now. He did not need to worry to the point he ran away from home and came looking for her, becoming homeless and hungry too. She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a small picture of ten-year-old Severus, stroking it lightly. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew the photo out of her weak hand and it fluttered through the air.

               “No!” Eileen cried, crumbling the parchment and quill in her hand as she jumped to her feet and chased after the picture, stumbling slightly due to her stiffened muscles.

               The picture remained out of her reach, soaring above the chimneys, and disappearing from her view. She sniffed as she clutched to the parchment and quill, belatedly remembering she had left the ink behind. She walked back to the building she had been leaning against to find the ink vial spilled from when she had chased the picture. Dropping to her knees, Eileen dipped the quill in the small puddle, soaking up what she could of ink that had not mixed with the snow. She sat back against the building and scribbled more.

               Do not worry about me. You worry about going to school and minding your father. Just remember, keep your distance and it’ll be like you are not even there to him. You are safer there than you are with me for at least you have food and a warm bed and transportation to school. Please, for me, stay there until I can come back to you or find a way to support us out here in the magical community.

               Eileen looked up at a bright light coming her way and realized it was a warm fireplace. It stopped in front of her and she held her hands out to it, enjoying the way her body melted in the heat. A blanket wrapped itself around her and she pulled it around herself tighter. She would be okay now. All she had to do was survive the night and she would be ready to search for a job once more, hopefully doing something that did not require utilizing much magic. There had to be someplace . . .

               Eileen’s eyes snapped open and she realized she had fallen asleep once again. She also realized she dd feel heat, and she gasped at the parchment that was now on fire. She shoved the parchment into the snow and put the flame out, but the damage was done. The parchment had burned to a crisp and crumbled in the snow.

               Tears burned Eileen’s tears as she lifted a couple pieces that had legible words and attempted to restore the pages. A golden line appeared down the ripped part, but her magic was too weak to fully piece the parchment together. Eileen hugged the shreds to her chest and sobbed.

               As she had slipped into a peaceful dream, her magic had sparked up as her body temperature dropped dangerously low, and in an attempt to warm her, sparked a fire on the nearest flammable thing she held, destroying her son’s letter.

               Eileen threw the pieces down and covered her face with her hands, taking deep, steady breaths. She would die here tonight. She just knew it. Earlier, no one had paid her any mind while they hustled about for last minute Christmas shopping, feeling no sympathy for the cold, homeless woman. And now she would freeze to death without a single final word to her family—her son.

               A small hoot caught her attention.

               Above her, resting on the gutter of the building she was leaning against, a small tawny owl stared down at her. It tilted its head and hooted again.

               Eileen grabbed the quill and held it up to the bird with great effort.

               “Please,” she whispered, “take it. Take it to him—my son—Severus Snape. Tell him I love him.”

               The bird stared a second long before gracefully gliding down to her, gently accepting the quill, and flying away into the white horizon.

               Eileen smiled before her eyes closed once more and she collapsed in the snow, forgotten and alone.

               “Someone did finally find me before I slipped away into the light,” Eileen said as she brushed the horse cross-tied in the aisleway of the barn. “I spent several months in St Mungo’s, mostly because they thought I was a squib with a suddenly growing magical core. They wanted to make sure I didn’t explode.”      

               “They didn’t believe who you were?” Severus asked, grooming another horse behind the one Eileen was grooming.

               “They didn’t want to believe that someone as homeless and unsuccessful as I would have come out of Hogwarts.” Eileen pushed on the horse so it would stand up straight and stop leaning on her, then resumed her grooming. “Or that a pureblood would fall so low.”

               “You never told me any of this before,” Severus said, pausing and looking off to the side. “I did . . . get that quill. I just had no idea what it meant. I thought the owl had delivered to the wrong person or accidentally took the quill instead of the letter. I think I vaguely remember calling it an imbecilic bird.”

               “That sounds like something you would say,” Eileen smirked, “even at eleven years old.”

               “I still have it,” Severus confessed in a whisper.

               “Pardon?” Eileen asked. She frowned.

               “I still have the quill. I guess I always hoped it was something more than just a wrong delivery. I kept it in my room, never used it, but it sat in the ink stand ever since. I suppose I was right to do so.”

               Eileen smiled, her eyes glistening. She looked back at the leaning horse, pushing him up again.

               “I never knew if the owl actually took it to you or not,” Eileen said. “You never said anything about it.”

               “Nor did you.” Severus returned to brushing the horse. “But I did get your message. Why did you never try again?”

               “I was afraid to. After all, I never did officially write to you, and when I wasn’t drugged up with potions and well enough to think straight at St. Mungo’s, four months had passed by since Christmas. I wasn’t sure what you would think of me then. I had left you alone, after all, for almost an entire year. Of course, when I was discharged, I had nothing once more . . . couldn’t write to you . . . couldn’t find my way back to Cokeworth. . . I didn’t really want to go back either, you would have been in school by that time. So I wandered and hitchhiked. Did little jobs here and there. And I accepted that that was my life. Job hopping, little food, a box for a house, and no you. I accepted that, even though my heart didn’t want to. But how could I ever be a part of your life again after what I did?”

               Severus had moved on to brushing the horse’s mane, but he listened to his mother’s words. He had never really taken the time to hear her out before. He didn’t want to, for there was no excuse big enough for what she did. And in his mind, there still wasn’t. But her story did garner his sympathy.

               “And then Peadar found me in the library in London reading to children,” Eileen smiled softly. “And, well, you know the rest from there. He’s the one who searched for my wand and finally bought it back for me as an anniversary gift.” 

               Severus was lost in his thoughts, so he did not respond to his mother. He absently brushed the horse as he pictured the lonely silver quill resting on his desk in his room a Spinner’s end. He had always hoped it was a sign of something more, and all this time it had been. It was a desperate attempt at contact from his mother, and who could have guessed that shortly after, his mother would give up and submit to the hand life was dealing her at the time.

               Severus’s head snapped up as a thought struck him: was that what he was doing to Harry? Giving up and submitting to the way it had to be?

               “I’m going to take a break,” Severus said, setting the brush down in the bucket.

               “All right,” Eileen motioned to the horse, “you can leave him there and I’ll finish him up. Buckley, stand up straight!” Eileen pushed the big horse off of her once again. “I will not tell you again.”

               Severus left Eileen with the horses. He walked to the gardens, following the laid pathways. He found himself near the back of the house where Shandy was lying down on a bench. Severus sat down next to the dog. He offered a small head scratch.

               Shandy whined and rested his head on Severus’s lap.

               “You miss him, huh?” Severus asked, petting the dog some more. Shandy whined. Severus sighed. “Well, I can’t say he feels the same for you.”

               Shandy made a throaty noise before sneezing.

               “I miss him, too, boy.”

               Shandy suddenly sat up and barked, then jumped off the bench and ran off. Severus decided he should check out whatever caught the dog’s attention. He stood and followed, but Shandy leaped off the pathway and ran through the bushes. Severus tried to eye the red-furred dog in the green scenery, only catching glimpses now and then. Shandy kept barking.

Looking around for Eileen or Peadar and not seeing either, Severus carefully stepped into the well cared for landscape, stepping over bushes and pushing through the tall plants. He revealed Shandy in the center and kneeled next to him.

On the ground at the dog’s feet was a colored page that Harry had done. It was of a magnificent mansion, a typical look to a pureblood home. Severus picked it up, smiling softly at it. It had been three days since he had said goodbye to Harry, and he already wanted to see the boy again. However, per Family Services standards, one had to allow at least two weeks of settling in time before visits were permitted. He could not see Harry.  The picture reminded him of something, however.

“Hey,” Severus spoke to Shandy, “would you like to visit an acquaintance?”

Shandy shook out his fur.

Ten minutes later, Severus used the floo to head over to Malfoy Manor, and when he arrived, he set Shandy down so the dog could shake himself off.

“What is the meaning of that?” Lucius snapped with a pointed finger at Shandy as he entered his parlor, the sound of the floo catching his attention.

The dog barked and wagged his tail excitedly as he ran over to Lucius, who stepped back and used his cane to keep the dog at a distance.

“Good evening to you, too,” Severus smirked as he watched Lucius.

               “Severus, you know how I feel about dogs,” Lucius said, spitting the last word out.

               “He needed a walk and I needed to talk to you,” Severus said with a shrug. “It’s a win-win.”           

               “First the Boy-Who-Lived and now this rat. Control it at once!” Lucius was still trying to push the dog away with the end of his cane, but Shandy continued trying to jump up to say hello to the new man. “Where did you get this thing?” 

               Deciding Lucius had had enough, Severus let the fun end.

               “MacAuley Estate.”

               Lucius shot a look at Severus, ignoring the dog for a moment, which gave Shandy the chance to jump up on Lucius’s leg and wag his tail up at the man.

               “MacAuley Estate,” Lucius’s lips curved into a smile. He reached down and scruffed the dog, picking it up to eye it closer, making Shandy whine. “This is one of their fine creatures, I’m assuming. I’m sure only the best genes exist in this specimen. Must of cost quite a pretty knut.”

               “He did, indeed,” Severus lied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, Lucius would assume the dogs were wizard bred. “Now put him down before you damage such chattel. The MacAuleys would not appreciate that.”

“I would not expect otherwise,” Lucius said, setting Shandy down. Shandy ran back to Severus’s side, sitting down at the man’s feet, shaking himself off and scratching under his collar.

“Now tell me how the boy is enjoying the hospitality of the finest pureblood family in Ireland,” Lucius demanded. “I am pleased you took my advice after all.”

“Potter is gone. He was discovered—a relief for me—by his own carelessness and placed under the protection of Dumbledore to some obscure family. I was not given any further details.”

“I see. The headmaster does not trust you enough with such information.” Lucius nodded and leaned into his cane. “It is to be expected. Pity, as there is no place more unplottable than the MacAuley estate, which would have given you not only protection for the brat but inside knowledge on where the boy lives. Considering that without a spelled invite, no wizard can just visit Ireland and expect to find the estate like that. No one’s ever heard of such a place. Family only can do that. Though I hear there isn’t much “family” left. Mr. MacAuley has not had any heirs, has he?”

“That does not concern you.”

Lucius snorted and held his head higher.

“It will when he passes, and the estate is put on the market and its location is finally brought to light. Every family will want to buy such ancient magic and discover the secrets of how the MacAuleys kept their fortune hidden for generations. Unless you’d be willing to share with your close friend?”

“I do not know myself,” Severus said. “I am here to update you on Potter’s status. We will need to be informed, after all, for when He returns.”

“Greatly appreciated. Besides, that boy was doing you harm. I could see it. You do not want vulnerability in war, Severus. Remember that.”

Severus hmphed at that. Any show of affection or care toward another living anything was weakness in Lucius’s eyes, and therefore vulnerability. 

“A puppy!” Draco cried from the doorway. He ran into the room and Shandy ran to meet the boy with several barks.

“Draco, do not run!” Lucius scolded. “And pet the dog with dignity, do not crawl on the floor.”

Draco huffed but got off his knees where he had dropped in front of Shandy and stood straight, using one hand to pet the dog on the head.

“I hear Harry has found a new home?” Draco asked.

“Eavesdropping again?” Lucius asked.

“No, I was walking to the kitchen for dinner. Mother called me. I accidentally overheard.” Draco bent over enough for the dog to jump up and lick his face, then straightened before his father could say anything.

“I apologize to say he won’t be around again anytime soon,” Severus said to Draco.

“That’s okay, Severus,” Draco said, smoothing out his robe before putting his hands behind his back. “Friends are bought and sold every day.”

“Right,” Severus agreed slowly, frowning at the child who was the same age as Harry, realizing that neither had ever experienced a true friendship. How alike they really were. “I should be going. Come, Shandy.” Severus patted his thigh.

“Have a good evening, Severus,” Lucius nodded to him.

Shandy wagged his tail as he followed Severus through the floo network once more. Severus returned to MacAuley, glad he had gotten that out of the way. He had to keep appearances after all. And Shandy had offered a little amusement to brighten his day. He had needed that.

The next day came and went, as did the next, and Severus found himself going through the motions of each day, falling into a silence Peadar and Eileen were all too familiar with. Without classes to teach, Severus had nothing to distract himself from his thoughts and guilt of leaving Harry as he had. He’d read a book now and then or throw a stick for the dogs in the evening, but ultimately, he was dull and usually lying around somewhere, lost in reflections.

And that’s how Peadar found him that morning, lying on the couch staring mindlessly at an open book, the pages never turning. He cleared his throat.

Severus looked over his book at Peadar, sitting up on the couch.

“I could use your help,” Peadar said, gesturing toward the back of the house. “The fence in the far pasture’s been mangled, and we need to fix it up before that bull takes another hit at it. Care to assist?”

“Yes, sir,” Severus answered, jumping to his feet, and he followed Peadar outside. As head of the household, even when Severus had first moved in, he had always been respectful toward Peadar—as long as he wasn’t in the midst of an argument with Eileen. The two walked out to the far pasture where the yellow fence had been smashed and broken to pieces in two area, not allowing for any bulls to escape, but a few horses might be willing to.

“This is exactly why I don’t ever use this pasture anymore,” Peadar said, waving his hands wildly at the damage. “Damn neighbor needs to do something about that overgrown menace.” With an exasperated sigh and shake of his head, Peadar looked at Severus. “Here’s what we need to do.”

Peadar explained how they would tear apart the old wooden fencing and replace it with the new electric wire fence system Peadar had purchased. Severus and Peadar got to work tearing up the hold fence, using their wands mostly as their only tools.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Peadar said, trying to spark a conversation as they worked.

“Am I not usually quiet here?” Severus asked with a raised brow.

“You are, yes,” Peadar said. “But when you brought Harry along this time, you were more . . . outspoken. Now you’re back to quiet.”

“I guess I have nothing more to say,” Severus said.

“Really? After everything that has happened in the short time we housed Harry, you have nothing to say? I’m impressed. I think several things were brought up that need addressing, even right now. To me, I see someone who misses a certain boy and is wallowing in self-pity at the unfairness of the circumstances.”

               “I am not wallowing in anything,” Severus snapped. “And I do not . . . I don’t . . .”

               Peadar watched Severus with a knowing look before he snorted and worked on a stubborn fence post that refused to budge from the earth.

               “You can’t even say it,” he said. “You know, sometimes we don’t realize what we want until we lose it. Don’t you agree?”

               Severus kept his attention on chopping the wooden posts into smaller pieces for future firewood. After a minute, he glanced over his shoulder at Peadar.

               “What does it matter?” Severus said. “I can’t get him back.”

               “Can’t?” Peadar fired back. “Or unwilling to try? Just as you are with your mother.”

               Severus wanted to drop the conversation there and walk away from this pointless conversation. However, he suddenly felt like a hypocrite and he could not make himself leave. He was no better than his mother.

               “I left him like she left me. He’ll never forgive me for that.”

               “Is that coming from personal experience?” Peadar set down the wire he was unraveling and leaned against the new post in the ground. “Forgiveness can help us heal from what we’ve suffered. We don’t even have to make up to the person who has wronged us or even say it to their face, especially if nothing will come of it on their behalf. Sometimes, a simple I forgive ya from the yeartliftes the heaviest weights off our shoulders. It can let go of the emotional and physical trauma that tortures us and be the first step in our healing. We acknowledge and we move on.” 

               Severus tossed another chopped piece of wood into the pile, lowering his wand for a minute.

               “Not all of us can move on so easily. What happened to forgive but don’t forget?”

               “Forget does not mean to invalidate the past. We learn from our history after all. What it means is to forget—let go—of the bitterness and pain laid upon us and move on without having that open wound bleeding. Let it scar as it should naturally, a memory but not a way of life.”

               Severus crossed his arms, avoiding Peadar’s gaze as he let those words sink in.

               “Take my father for example. He left my mother for his mistress when I was six years old. And he was out of my life for thirty years. Thought he could make an entrance when Mam passed. I refused to have him be apart of my life, no matter how hard he tried to please me by keeping out of my way and greeting me a happy birthday when it came around. Twenty year’s later, I hear he’s suffered a stroke. Passed away shortly after. I never gave him a chance to prove himself. And my last words to him were “I’ll never forgive ya.”

               “I’ve forgiven him of course,” Peadar continued, walking up to Severus and placing a hand on Severus’s shoulder. “In the end, even if you never reconcile with your wrong doer, your forgiveness will make ya a happier and healthier person. Think about it. I know we’ve never seen eye to eye before, but that’s okay. I have no children of my own blood, but I am proud to call ya a son of mine.”

               Severus sighed and nodded.

               “Thank you,” Severus said. “That . . . that’s very kind of you.”

               “By the way,” Peadar added, giving Severus’s shoulder a light squeeze before dropping his hand, “I miss the little lad.”

               Before Severus could agree, trotting caught the men’s attention. Two horsemen were trotting up to Severus and Peadar, halting their horses just on the other side of the dismantled fence.

               “Careful our bull don’t realize you’ve opened the gate,” one of the men said. “He might be on the other side now, but he’d come charging.”

               “Why don’t ya do something about that crazy animal?” Peadar asked, shoving his wand up his sleeve, Severus slipping his down a pocket.

               “He’s just upset we took him from the herd,” the other horseman said. “We had to though, he maimed one of our other yearlings. Besides, he’s not the best stud around.”

               “Then take that thing to market,” Peadar huffed. “He’s going to hurt someone or my horses one of these days.”

               “Oh we plan to,” the man said, tipping his hat. “Just not yet. “we’ve a couple of heifers we’d like him to have before breeding season is over. That should keep him calmer too if he’s got some cows in here with him. Should leave your fence be.”

               “It better. You’re costing me money here.”

               “Our Da will gladly fund you for the damage,” the horsemen said, spurring their horses to get them moving. “Stop on by anytime.”

               The two rode off, leaving Severus and Peadar to finish the fence before the bull did make his way back over. They worked quickly, levitating the firewood to a designated spot on the side of the house.

               Later that night, Severus tossed and turned in his bed. He had struggled the last few nights to sleep, feeling as though he was forgetting something, missing something. Perhaps he had gotten to use to nightly routines involving a seven-year-old boy. Admitting defeat, Severus sat up in his bed and lit his wand. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a book, opening it to the index section. He smiled at Harry’s writing.

               Bubble Potion . . . . . Page 9.

               Severus flicked to page nine and read the instructions, admiring the boy’s drawings as he did.

               1. Fill caldren with water

               2. Add 2 table spoons of soap

               3. Add peppermint for good smells

               4. stir and make bubbles

               Don’t drink this one!

               Severus chuckled at Harry’s last line. He flipped back to the index, checking out the other options. Nutrition Potion . . . . . Page 18. Severus flipped to that page, curious as to what Harry considered nutritious compared to his scientifically researched potion. He chuckled at the boy’s words, seeing Harry had the correct spelling for "cauldron" this time.

               1. Fill cauldron with water and boil

               2. add lots of strawberries and blueberries

               3. eat strawberries and blueberries

               4. add two apples

               5. add sugar

               6. add yucky greens

               7. add more sugar

               8. boil for five minutes

               9. Enjoy

               Severus had to cover his mouth to smother his amusement. He shook his head fondly. How nutritious, he thought. Severus could only imagine what that particular potion might taste like. He read through the book slowly, taking his time to smile at the hard work Harry had poured into this book for him. And what did he do? Leave Harry at some stranger’s house. 

He grumbled under his breath and threw the covers off. Sliding his slipper on, Severus moved as stealthy as he could through the large, silent house to the kitchen. He flicked on the under cabinet lights to keep the kitchen slightly dim still and then he opened the fridge, wondering if a nightcap might help him settle. He saw Harry’s smile potion packaged up in the back of the fridge.

               Time froze as Severus stared at Harry’s creation. Without really thinking, he pulled out the container and opened it. He pulled out a spoon and stirred the strange concoction, scooping up a generous amount and raising it to his lips.

               “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

               Severus jolted and dropped the spoon. He spotted Eileen leaning against the doorway of the kitchen. She made a face at the container of mush.

               “I do not believe that’s aged well,” she said.

               Severus sighed and leaned against the counter. He was really losing it. Eileen walked into the kitchen and pulled the container away, sniffing it before using her wand to vanish it.

               “You must be pretty desperate if that’s what you were resorting to,” Eileen said. She rinsed out the container and washed it.

               “I need a drink,” Severus said, opening the fridge once more.

               “Pour me one, why don’t you?” Eileen said as she set the container in the drying rack.

               “Can’t sleep?” Severus questioned as he grabbed two glasses and a beer in the back of the fridge.

               “I’ve had better nights,” Eileen said. She dried her hands and accepted a glass from Severus, taking a small sip from it. “Must just be one of those days, you know? Lots on your mind and you just can’t sleep.”

               “I know how that is,” Severus said. He swallowed a gulp of his drink. “Thank you for all you and Peadar have done for Harry.”

               “Of course,” Eileen said. “He was a sweet boy. He deserved all he got.”

               “And for being there,” Severus quickly added, “when I needed you . . . to help with Harry, I mean.”

               Eileen nodded. “You’re welcome. We’re always here for you.”

               The two enjoyed each other’s company in silence as they finished their drinks. When Eileen set her cup in the sink and turned to leave, Severus set his own cup down and leaned on the island counter.

               “I forgive you,” he said.

               Eileen froze, staring at her son in the doorway of the kitchen.

               “I forgive you,” Severus repeated, “for doing what you thought you had to do. I would like to . . . try and start over without that lingering above us. To let the wound . . . scar. If you’re ready. I think I might be.”

               “Oh Severus,” Eileen rushed forward to hug her son, who briefly allowed it without returning much of it.

               “This doesn’t erase anything,” Severus said as they stepped back. “I’m sure I’m not going to be great at this and we’ve a lot to work out between us and I’m not entirely sure if . . .”

               “Hey,” Eileen interrupted. “Not all wounds scar overnight. I’m just happy for your forgiveness, though more often than not, I feel I don’t deserve it.”

               “Well, you’re getting it whether you want it or not.”

               “That’s the Severus I know.” Eileen snorted softly.

               “There’s one more thing,” Severus said.

               “Yes?”

               “I want to get Harry back.”

               A large smile grew on Eileen’s face.