There was a brisk round of applause at the hat's proclamation, as there were obviously not enough Ravenclaws.  Gryffindor and Hufflepuff seemed to be pretty evenly divided, Slytherin had more than its share, and Ravenclaw had been light.  So it was a bit of relief, and at the head table, Professor Flitwick looked joyous, clapping louder than anyone.  Sylvia walked over the the table done up in blue and bronze, and after shaking a few hands, sat down next to a girl that the stern witch had called out as Melanie Harlow.  She sized Sylvia up, and had an expression on her face that leaned towards condescending.  Across the table, a nice looking lad with dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin looked on curiously.  He had been announced as Raphael Gustavo, and he gave Sylvia a small smile, which she returned.

It was the beginning of winter term when Professor Flitwick decided to approach Sylvia Mathony about her wand.  He had had some time to consult with experts over the winter break, Mr. Ollivander among them.  What he had learned had really raised more questions than answers.  Sylvia continued to struggle in all of her wand based classes.  Her spells in his class were correctly executed, but continued to be weak.  Her written work in Transfiguration was the only reason she was passing the class.  Minevra had wondered if she spent too much time researching theory, and that time would be better spent in practice, but by now, Filius was getting to know this quiet student a bit better, and he didn't think so.  He was starting to suspect working hard enough to pass Transfiguration while not continuing to invest in a subject in which she had neither interest nor talent was a strategic move.  Any other female Ravenclaw would be in his office sobbing that they were not successful, and trying to raise their grade.  He was starting to suspect that Miss Mathony did not really care.

He called for her in the small office he kept in the Ravenclaw Tower, at 7:00 in the evening.  He had met with most of the first years, to talk about how their term was going, but for some reason had not gotten around to Miss Mathony yet.  She seemed to thrive on making herself invisible.  The information he had received on her wand helped shed some light on why that might be the case.

After settling her in with some herbal tea, he decided to get to the point.  Sylvia Mathony was not one for small talk.

"So, my dear.  I spoke at some length with Mr. Ollivander about your wand over the break.  I see you are still struggling with it."

"I am," the girl answered, not seeming particularly concerned.  "Do you think I should ask my parents for another?"
"I have a theory.  May I?" he reached out his hand.  Surprised, Sylvia handed over her wand.  Professor Flitwick flicked and swished towards a nearby book

"Legardia Leviosa!" The book flew up, and hit the ceiling.

"Yes, I thought as much," the professor sighed.

Sylvia looked interested, finally.

"How did you do that?  Is it just me, then?"

"I doubt this wand would work at all for nearly anyone else in this school...."

"Why does it work for you?  Do you know?"

"You have a wand with dual integrated woods - a dual identity, of sorts.  It seeks a master who also has integrated a dual identity, and channels the magic of both through the wand......"

"You have a dual identity?"

"I am part Goblin, Miss Mathony.  Goblins have their own magic.  I have been able to integrate my goblin magic with my wizard magic.  I have also had to come to terms with BEING part Goblin, in a world built for wizards..........."

"So my wand thinks I have a dual identity," Sylvia mused.

"Your wand KNOWS you have a dual identity, Sylvia," he used her given name with some tenderness.  "Whether or not you embrace this fact is up to you.  I suggest you figure out how to come to peace with yourself, and your wand."

"My identity is not my own secret.  The weight of it is carried by thousands.  I cannot simply openly claim it.  Too much depends on me NOT flaunting the non-wizarding part of my heritage."  These didn't seem to be entirely the words of a newly minted 12 year old, and Filius corrected assumed she had been lectured heavily by more than one adult.

"I wasn't suggesting we make an announcement, my dear.  But perhaps we could work together for a bit.   If you are willing, I would like you to show me some of the magic from your silent heritage, and perhaps we can improve your success with your wand.

"I am willing to show you some of the magic," said Sylvia slowly.  "As long as we do not discuss this other world.  Any of it.  For any reason.  And you do not speak to anyone else about it."

"I will have to mention I am helping you get to know your wand, given that it is unusual.  I can't think of a reason I would have to be more specific as to why."

"Very well.  What do you want to see?"

"Does your - let's call it your heritage magic - use wands?"
"No."

"How is magic channeled?"
"That is hard to explain, but I guess I would say just through our bodies."

"What kinds of magic are most common?"

"You know, now that you mention it, there is some similarity to Goblins," Sylvia's voice suddenly had more interest.  "We make a lot of things.  Things that we use in daily life, like clothing, pottery, blankets, furniture, our homes.  We imbed our magic in the process of creating."

"That is very helpful.  Your wand starts out as 2 separate pieces of wood at the handle, but the woods have merged by the time they reach the tip.  The pine portion, see here, when you hold your wand, your little finger is touching it - is susceptible to non-verbal magic.  We will not be covering this until 6th year, for wizarding magic, but I have found that my Goblin magic can be cast non-verbally WITH the wizarding incantation.  It takes a bit of practice - you are saying the incantation allowed while concentrating on accessing your heritage magic.  What about transfigurations?  Is that part of your heritage?

"More like transformation," Sylvia said.  I can transform - into what occurs naturally in nature.  It is nothing like Professor McGonagall's transfiguration.  It is not compatible AT ALL.  I would drop her class now, if I could."

Her professor chuckled.  "I think that would be a bit premature.  But could you show me......"

Sylvia held out an arm, which transformed into a tree branch.  Filius reached out to touch the wood, the leaves.  "Remarkable."

"Although doing it for no purpose is unnatural.  That is another problem with Transfiguration as a class.  There is no intuitive magic.  We are turning one mundane thing into another for no pressing reason."

"What reason would you have to turn into a branch?"
"Here?  It comes in handy in Herbology sometimes.....in my home lands, I use the magic to climb trees, or hide when I need to.  Or to assist an animal."

Fascinating.  Well, given your history, it sounds like some of your heritage magic is used for creativity.  That can be harnessed.  Your wand woods are both perfect for that.  You will say an incantation, nonverbally concentrate on your heritage magic, and they will merge, and if I am not mistaken, create something.  It will likely not be exactly like the spell everyone else is learning, but it might actually be more flexible."

+++++

3rd year

"You see Sylvie - he is NOT a vampire.  Not unless he became one recently.  But he is, let's see, now about 28 years old, give or take....he was 26ish when we were first years.  So he is not really old despite looking young."  Sylvia and Raphael were sitting in the library, whispering, looking through old class photo books.  In the 1st one, dated back to 1971, the incoming Slytherin class posed for one of the photos, along with a caption of names.  There at the far end was an 11 year old Severus Snape, and it was unnerving to see their chronically irritable and intimidating Potions Master looking so childlike.  Another book from a few years later showed a gangly adolescent Snape with acne.

"That does settle that.  I was starting to suspect that he was not, but this does put it to bed," said Sylvia.

"What made you think he was not.........besides him supervising a Hogsmead weekend in bright sunlight with no ill effects...."

"Well, he certainly was not happy to be out in the sun, or being assigned chaperoning duties, but no - I don't think vampires change, at all.  But professor Snape has experienced little changes.  Like sometimes if it is very warm, his skin tone looks a bit different, like the Hogsmeade weekend.  Sometimes, he is a bit more pallid than others, like he has had a late night.  His hair seems to grow, and then be cut a bit.   Fingernails sometimes have a bit of growth........although of course he keeps them short, it does look like he trims them from time to time.."
"You've been looking at Snape's fingernails???"

"Do you not agree that a vampire would not grow fingernails?  I thought that was a clever way to check.   Of course he could use spells for all of that, to look more human, but this is.............definitive."

"Are you disappointed?" Raphael teased her.

"I don't care.  Honestly.  I just need to know."  Sylvia was now satisfied her professor would not innately know she was one of the Fae.  This simplified her life.

However, the issue was not actually "put to bed," because at the next Potions class, as Sylvia and Raphael approached the teacher's desk to turn in their vials of shrinking solution, instead of just accepting the assignment in broody silence, Professor Snape spoke up.

"The pair of you........" spat like they were criminals "remain after class."

Raphael felt his heart pound, and looked to Sylvia for reassurance.  She shrugged, and returned a look of mild curiosity, and started cleaning up their equipment, feeling a quiet satisfaction when her wand performed the sanitation spell powerfully, and soundlessly.

The class looked at them a little gleefully, especially the Slytherins, who loved seeing Ravenclaws in trouble.  A couple of them looked particularly smug, like they knew what it was all about, and they had helped orchestrate it.  The Ravenclaw girls were likewise feeling rather catty, Harlow especially.   Sylvia joining Raphael at the boy's table meant she was left without a partner this year.  She was having to put in some extra hours making sure she was up to speed with everything, and could be flawlessly independent.  It was making her crabby.

When the class had cleared, the friends slowly approached the desk, as their teacher towered over them, glaring down.  When every last student had cleared, he shut the door with his wand, and then waved it again.  Raphael recognized the movement as an anti eavesdropping spell.  

"Well, well." Snape's voice was a near whisper, and held a bit of threat.  "It has come to my attention that you two have been spending some extra time in the library -"  He pronounced the word library like it was an indecent place to be seen.

Sylvia looked at him trying to determine what he thought their next move should be.  Probably to protest, no they hadn't, or to try to explain what they had been doing there in a way that did not draw attention to the fact they had been looking for old photos of their Potions Professor.  Since it was obvious he already knew what was up, the best course seemed to be to continue to be silent.

"Are you not going to explain yourselves........"  when no answer was forthcoming.

"Have we broken any rules that require an explanation, Professor?" Sylvia inquired politely.  Raphael looked terrified the response could be taken as cheek, and not without good reason.

Well played, Professor Snape thought in his head.  She would not have made a bad Slytherin, it is unfortunate I am not allowed to approach Filius for a trade....

"I think you know why you are here, being asked to explain yourselves, Miss Mathony", he responded silkily.  "Have you been able to reassure yourselves that I am not, in fact, a vampire?"  the two Ravenclaw students looked at each other sheepishly.

"Yes, sir." answered Raphael.  "We are sure."

"That is unfortunate," Professor Snape continued.  "Wondering if I am a vampire seems to have cultivated - proper respect, and fear of consequences of misbehavior, or being unprepared for class.   I hope that finding out I am indeed a mere mortal will not change this...."

"No, sir," said Raphael with some relief.  

"We assure you we have no plans to come to your class unprepared, or kick up," Sylvia added.

"Very well.   Moving on, if you wish to avoid detention for invading my privacy, I suggest you do absolutely nothing to reassure the rest of the student body of my....mortality.  Let anyone who is wondering continue to speculate if I may, indeed, be a vampire.  If you can seed the idea among the Gryffindor first years for example, I might even consider myself........" he raised an eyebrow at them "....in your debt."

"As you wish, sir," Sylvia responded.  Raphael was speechless.

"That will be all."

"Do you reckon it's even possible he has a sense of humor beyond snarkiness...." Raphael queried as they made their way to History of Magic....

"I wouldn't know how else to explain what we just witnessed." Sylvia responded solemnly.  "He has been messing with us.  All of the little mind tricks he has been playing for the last 2 plus years.  He's been enjoying himself.  The bats.  Storming the corridors at night like a giant bat himself.  The coffin delivery.  I'll bet he spelled those fang marks on his neck as well."

"Sick bastard."

"Well.  It was kind of funny."

Professor Snape went ahead and had all of the photo books from the years he attended Hogwarts removed from the library.

"Why?" Dumbledore had asked him.

"There is a rumor going around for the last - 2 years, at least - that I am a vampire," Snape said, coolly.  "I have found this to be helpful for classroom management.  However, the idea that I am a dangerous eternal being was debunked when a couple of students found photo books with evidence of my younger self.  They have been convinced to keep their observations to themselves, for now."

Dumbledore could not contain his amusement.

"I will spell the books not to show your photos," he told Snape.  "I think that would be more convincing than having them disappear altogether."

"That would be acceptable."

"I wouldn't think of you as needing a vampire rumor to control your class............"

"I don't.  It is just less.............exhausting.  Especially with the addition of the 2 latest Weasleys...."

"Very well, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled.

Severus Snape was spending his evening grading the third year's Girding Potions.

This was the year potions were increasing in complexity.  The students still did not need to make their own adjustments, but the potions themselves required an increasing amount of concentration and attention to detail.  This was the year that he might start to have an inclination of who might be a candidate for NEWT level Potions class.  Out of the roughly 60 3rd years, that was so far about 20, and by the time the students finished their OWLS, he suspected the end number would be half of that.  After 6th year, it was very sink - or - swim, as the students had to figure out how to adjust potions for moon cycle, astronomy, ingredient quality, and the class was paired down even further for 7th year.  The Hogwarts Board of Directors was getting increasingly irritated with him about the low level of Potions NEWTS.

The Potions master was about half way through what was proving to be a long tedious evening when he got to the Ravenclaws, who usually submitted mostly adequate samples.  He grabbed the first one, which was labeled Melanie Harlow.

Miss Harlow's samples were usually nearly perfect.  She did have attention to detail, and could follow instructions exactly.  That was all well and good, he thought as he took in the garish green, foul smelling sample, but it didn't necessarily mean she would advance.  Such students frequently were good at following directions, had good memories, and were detail oriented, yet lacked any creative thought, or understanding of theory.  But for the time being, after instilling a drop of his grading potion, and watching the brew turn purple, blue, then back to green again, he gave her an "0".  

The next two Ravenclaw ladies each earned an "E".  Then he started on the 2nd table.

Miss Mathony and Mr. Gustavo's samples and put side by side.  They were completely different colors, indicating they likely did not work together on the assignment.  He picked up Mr. Gustavo's first.

It was close to the unsightly shade of green the potion was known for, but had swirls of dark black.  This likely meant the doxy eggs were not completely dissolved, and Gusravo probably had not raised the temperature of the potion at the correct time.  That was hard to get right.  Probably 25% of the potions he had graded thus far had the same mistake.  He put in a drop of grading potion, and the mixture turned blue briefly, then back to its original color.  He graded it an "A", feeling generous, but that was the only mistake he could see.  Then, with more curiosity, he turned to Miss Mathony's.  Her potion was a mossy green.  That was not the result of any common mistake that he knew of.  The most likely possibility was that Miss Mathony had altered the recipe somehow.  Intrigued he put in a drop of grading potion.  It turned the potion deep purple and it stayed so for a good 20 seconds, then faded from blue back to green.  Well, it was an acceptable brew.  It was likely Gustavo's potion was subpar because he could not keep up with Mathony.  But why had she done it?

The Girding Potion was unique in that it was the first time he made the students obtain their own animal ingredients, in this case flying seahorses from the Black Lake.   Each student was supposed to catch three.  The reason he did this was so that animal ingredients in future potions would be used more judiciously and handled more carefully by the students.  It was much easier to be wasteful when you were not the one having to take the life of a creature to put into a potion.  If there was an objection to the potion, and a desire to change its composition, that was probably it.   He went back to his lab, found another potion, and used a dropper to put exactly 3 drops back into Miss Mathony's vial.  Ingredients began to separate.  He decanted them, setting aside the plant based portions without bothering to separate them further and identify them.  Then he used his wand to remove Doxy eggs from the Flying Seahorse.

The Seahorse, it appeared, had not been used completely.  That meant Miss Mathony had gone to a fair amount of trouble to figure out which portions of the animal were most essential for the potion, and which other components could withstand a substitution.   That was a very tedious, labor intensive process, and would have taken a long time.   Likely weeks.

Why did she do it? She had obviously needed to use parts of the flying seahorse, like the wings, some of the scales and spines.  But, he realized, she could likely have regenerated the portions she harvested, either by simply purchasing a regeneration potion from an apothecary in Hogsmeade, or perhaps asking an older Ravenclaw for assistance.  He could think of a good half dozen of them off the top of his head that would have known how to help her.  If she did that, she would not have needed to kill the creatures.  She likely had brought the parts into class, in her potions kit, and in the chaos surrounding her classmates, he simply hadn't noticed.

This created two problems for him.  The first one was what grade to give her.   She did not follow the instructions for the assignment.  However, the difficulty of her work was a good three grade levels about her current class.  In the end, he gave her an E.  In more than one way, she had exceeded his expectations, but she did not produce an outstanding brew of the assigned potion.

The second problem was that it appeared he had underestimated Miss Mathony, and she was not being forthcoming about her abilities.  He did not like the feeling he was being lied to, even if by omission.  He knew, from Minevera's complaining, that she performed poor to mediocre in Transfiguration.  He knew Padmona liked her, and she also did well in astronomy, and that she had chosen to start arithmancy this year.  But no one had mentioned her skills as being out of the ordinary.  In his class, her potions tended to hover around the top 4-5 samples handed in, but never in the top 3.  Was she making her brews appear slightly weaker, somehow?  Well, if she wanted to continue with NEWT level potions she was going to need to stop being manipulative.  He wasn't going to bring this up right away, however.  Instead, he would take a page from Miss Mathony's book, and simply observe for the next year or two.  

Musing about the moss green potion had taken up too much time, and he was now behind.  Irritated with himself, he picked up the next sample marked Jasper Breckenridge.

+++++

At the end of third year, Sylvia convinced Raphael to convene a meeting for their Potions class table.  Feeling quite grown up, they met at the Three Broomsticks over a butterbeer during the last Hogsmeade weekend, which, incidentally, Sybil Trelawney was chaperoning.  Professor Trelawney's preferred method of maintaining order was threatening the students with dire predictions, which everyone was alternatingly mocking and ignoring, so things were more chaotic than usual.

Of the four of them, Breckenridge was the hardest to pin down, as he had many friends, and always had solid plans for Hogsmeade.  But........Potions was not his best subject, so when Rapheal suggested to him they needed a new plan to improve their marks, he wanted to be a part of the discussion, and agreed to allow them 20 minutes or so.  They were meeting in secret because they did not want to involve the girls.  Sylvia found trying to make a plan around their opinions stressful, and privately Breckenridge agreed with her.  He tolerated Melanie Harlow because she was his cousin, but Prenniss had no such connection, and found her extremely annoying.

"Sylvia thinks we should split up the table next year," Raphael was the spokesperson.  "And try to sit with Slytherin's that Snape favors....if possible."

"Why would we we do that?"  Prenniss asked, with genuine curiosity.

"All of you are having trouble with getting the Potions heated to the exact amount that will dissolve the ingredients without overcooking them." said Sylvia bluntly.  "It is a super tricky thing.  I am able to do it, but not explain HOW.  I don't know.  I tried to explain it to Raph, but I cannot.  It would be helpful to get more clarification from.......you know, an actual Potions Master.  But he doesn't talk to us.  Notice many of the Slytherins are not struggling with this.  Do you think they are smarter than you?  They are not.  He is giving them more direction.  Actually, I have a list of those he directs the most.......... "

"So the goal is to overhear the pointers he is giving the Slytherins....."

"Yes."

"OK.  That makes sense actually.  How do we convince the Slytherins to want to share a table with us?"

"I have corresponding list of whom seems most vulnerable to division." Sylvia was unapologetic.

"Damn, Mathony, I didn't know you had it in you!" Breckenridge shrugged.

"We will have to work to befriend the vulnerable for the last few weeks.  We need to start planting seeds.  I have seen next year's syllabus, and unless you all master this, it will continue to haunt you...."

++++

There were 2 third year Slytherin girls dorms to accommodate the class size.  Julia Rosier, Cassie Selwyn, Gemma Farley, and Annabel Ikes shared one of them.  Things among the girls lately had been rather........tense.  Rosier and Selwyn were getting annoyed by what they considered to be the lack of class among the other two.  It was mostly a rift of generations.  Old money vs new money, and the differing opinions as to what constituted proper upper class mannerisms and behavior.  The Ikes family in particular was "new money".  And they were not subtle about it.  And neither Ikes nor Farley would fall in line with the two girls who considered themselves their betters.

It was 2 in the morning when a chime sounded throughout Slytherin House.  It was a sound every Slytherin dreaded.  It meant trouble........the kind the prefects could not handle.  It was a warning their Head of House would soon be entering the dormitory.   Sometimes this was followed by an announcement to gather in the common room, so Professor Snape could address them as a group, but barring that, it was assumed a sweep of the dorms was happening, and they were expected to make themselves and their surroundings decent and in order.    Lights magically brightened and the girls pulled on dressing gowns and slippers, then grabbed their wands to banish bras, hair products, and other feminine items that might be visible, as well as quickly tidying their hair..  With another quick wave of their wands their beds were hastily made, and they awaited what would certainly be an extremely irritated Professor Snape.  It took a few harried minutes to realize 2 things.  #1 - they were magically sealed in their dorm room, and could not exit.  And #2 Annabel was not there.  Gemma checked the lavatories, while Julia quickly made her bed, and banished a pair of shocking pink knickers, just as an overhead announcement came that Professor Snape, Head of House, had entered the Slytherin Common Room.

They stood in panicked silence for only another moment or two, followed by a knock at the door, and the lifting of the wards locking them in.  It was a frazzled looking 7th year girls' prefect, who was peeking in to make sure they were decent while Professor Snape waited outside.  

"Professor Snape, Head of House, is entering the Guinevere Dormitory." a disembodied announcement came overhead.  This meant he knew exactly what dormitory to start with, as they were named alphabetically - starting with the 1st year boys' dorm - Arthur.  He would not have randomly chosen the 3rd year girls.

As Professor Snape made his dramatic entrance, the three girls flinched.

But Julia started to calm herself a little, and think.  There was a strategy for everything, she realized.  Professor Snape clearly had the advantage right now, and he had spent a lot of effort foreshadowing, so it would be so.  They were programmed to dread the sound of the chimes, being woken in the middle of the night is always disorienting, and they were standing meekly in their dressing gowns next to hastily made beds, while their Head was dressed as he did for class, as if he slept in his tightly buttoned frock coat.  The result was they all felt guilty, wanting to make the situation go away as soon as possible, situating things so that they might even do his work for him.  This was theater.  Julia felt herself relax a bit.  She had done nothing wrong, and she would stop acting like it, while still being respectful.

"Good evening, ladies." Professor Snape enunciated clearly and slowly.  "Or should I say, morning......."

"Professor," Cassie Selwyn had also caught on, and straightened her spine.

"Sir." Julia echoed.  All eyes were on Gemma, whose gaze was on the black and silver rug beneath her feet.

"Miss Farley?" Snape demanded.  Gemma looked up briefly, then hastily back down again.

"Hello, Professor Snape?" she croaked.  Honing in on the obvious weakness, Professor Snape moved towards her.

"Where, pray tell, if your friend, Miss Ikes?"

"I.....I don't know, sir."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"When we went to bed?"

"And what time was that?"

"I don't remember, sir."

"You don't.........remember.  Very well, perhaps your house mates can help jog your memory.  Miss Rosier?  What time, approximately, did you retire?"

"Around 11:00, sir."

"You were up a bit late?"

"Working on the mineral ingredient essay you assigned, sir," Julia nodded towards her desk, where the said essay was about 2/3 of the way completed.

"And when you retired, did you notice the bedtime status of the others."

"Miss Selwyn was already in bed, sir."

"And Miss Farley?"

"She and Miss Ikes were enclosed in Miss Ikes, bed, sir."

"I see.  What were they doing?"

"I don't know, sir.  I believe a privacy charm was in place.  If they were discussing anything, I was not privy to what it was.  I admit to not being particularly interested."

Cassie held back a smirk.

"Miss Selwyn?"

"Miss Ikes and Miss Farley were chatting on Miss Ikes' bed when I went to sleep.  I assumed they activated a privacy charm as to not to disturb me, sir.  Miss Rosier was working on her essay, and researching various types of moonstone."

"Back to you Miss Farley.  It is now 11:00 pm, and Miss Rosier, and Miss Selwyn have turned in for the night.  You are in conversation with Miss Ikes on her bed.  What was the nature of your conversation?"

Gemma flushed deep red, and snuck a glance at her dorm mates.  They looked impassive and unconcerned.

"Just.........school stuff, sir."

"Just school stuff........." Professor Snape repeated slowly, obviously not believing her.  "While you were chatting about 'just school stuff' was Miss Ikes dressed for bed, or was she still in her school uniform?"
"I........I don't remember."

"Try again, Miss Fawley.  My patience is wearing very thin."

"She was not dressed for bed, sir." Gemma's face was still quite flushed, and she seemed ready to cry.

"That is an interesting way to answer that question.  She was not dressed for bed, but you did not say she was in uniform, which she was surely wearing when she left the Great Hall after dinner.  What was she wearing?  I'm warning you, I don't remember is still not an option."

There was a long pause, as Gemma struggled to formulate a response.

"Miss Rosier? " Professor Snape inquired.

"She was huddled in her cloak," said Julia smoothly.  "I really didn't try to figure out what she had on under it.  I was busy attending to my own -"

"Thank you Miss Rosier.  Miss Fawley.  The fire has not yet completely gone out, surely 4 hours ago it was plenty warm in here, and a cloak indoors would not have been needed. "

"I didn't see -" Miss Fawley stammered.

"Did she tell you where she was going?"

"No sir."

"How long after Miss Rosier retired for the evening did you decide to do the same?"

"About an hour, maybe?"

"And what was Miss Ikes doing at that time."
"Sitting on her bed."

"Doing what?"
"I don't know."  Professor Snape glared down at her.  Then he swept away.  

"Where IS she?"  Cassie demanded of Gemma, when the door had closed, and Professor Snape's presence was announced to the Hermes (3rd year boys') dorm.

"I don't know, exactly, she didn't say." answered Gemma miserably.  

"Was she meeting a boy..........which House?" Julia asked pointedly.

"I THINK he is a Slytherin......"

"At least there's that.  Then it will likely be kept on the down low........but seriously, she is going to absolutely RUIN her reputation, and prospects......"

"It was a pureblood, I think....."
"All the worse.  He will let the other pureblood's know she is available to be 'used' ", Cassie explained grimly.  "what year?"

"5th - MAYBE 6th?"

"Like because he can't get one of his own age - they all know better.  And know HIM."  Her mind ran through the possibilities.  

Professor Snape was announced to the Ianthe dormitory.

"I doubt she is in there," Gemma murmured tonelessly.  

At this point, a house elf appeared with some night tea, to settle them down a bit.  It had some sort of mild sedative in it, but was enough to counteract the adrenaline coursing through Julia's veins.  And Cassie's, by the looks of it.  Gemma still looked pretty miserable, though.  As they sipped, they could hear the magical magnified voice in the distance announcing Professor Snape to various other dorms.  

No one felt comfortable sleeping, not while their Head was conducting his sweep.  They suspected soon enough Annabel would be returned to them, and they didn't want to have to get up again, should Professor Snape return, so they just sat on their beds, not speaking.  Would Annabel be so bold as to be actually inside a dorm room?  Or were they hiding somewhere else?

The announcements wore on, until finally came the name of the last dorm - Veritas.  Something clicked in Cassie's brain, and she looked up sharply to meet Julia's gaze.  Veritas dorm was not in use that year - it was a private room, given to the Head Girl or Boy, if Slytherin, but this year the Head Girl was in Ravenclaw, the Head Boy a Gryffindor.  There would be a bed, and privacy.  The perfect hideaway, without having to risk leaving the Slytherin House itself after curfew.  Comprehension started to dawn on Gemma's face as well.  After about 3 minutes that felt like an eternity, the prefect re-emerged, and gestured for the girls to stand, which they did,

Professor Snape then entered, with Annabel trailing sheepishly.  They were fully expecting to see their Head of House radiating anger, but instead he seemed extremely quiet, and almost..........sad?

"Go to bed," Snape directed flatly.  "I will be writing to your parents, tonight, so the news will arrive with their morning post.  They will need to be called in, and we will discuss this further, as well as your punishment, but for now, you have disrupted the peace and sleep of this House quite enough.  Good night, ladies...."

"Good night Professor," the girls chorused, as their Head swept away.

Shaking, Annabel removed her clothing, cute flirty weekend type outfit,  pulled on sleepwear. and crawled under the covers without looking at anyone.

"What did Snape say when he found you?"  Gemma whispered.  There was a long pause.

"Foolish girl........." Annabel whispered back, choking back tears.  

"Who was it?" Julia demanded.  Annabel considered not answering, but realized that having Julia ask around to find out would be worse in the end.

"Wilbur Parkinson."

"Seriously?" Cassie rolled her eyes.  "You fell for that?  What did Professor Snape say to him?"

"I don't know.  He was instructed to remain behind, for a private lecture.  Pr-Professor Snape seemed much angrier with him.  He looked a little scared actually."

"Yeah, Professor Snape is likely livid, but in the end, the Parkinson family is the Parkinson family, and nothing major will happen - to him.  Professor Snape will likely be even more vigilant in the future - he is getting faster at catching him.  Last time he did not find out until after the fact.  And he has made this much more public, waking us all up.  Likely a warning for everyone else.  Your life is about to get hard, Annabel.  Your family does not have the same kind out clout."

"Last time?"

"Yeah - this happened last year.  There was fallout.  Will was told off.  He just found someone more naive and stupid for his next go around, I guess."

"We didn't.......we didn't...."

"It doesn't matter how far you got - whether he managed to score a goal, or catch the snitch - the fact is that you went there with him alone, and are now branded as........easy."

"We have been trying to explain to you, Annabel," Cassie continued sharply, "You cannnot act like you do, and live the life of a Slytherin.  There are unwritten rules, there are ingrained customs, and if you want to play the game, you don't get to make your own rules.  And if you DON'T want to play the game, then we don't want to hang out with you, because we are playing it, we are in it to win it, and we can't have you dragging us down."

Sniffling, Annabel turned away and pulled her curtains with her wand.  She was done for the night.

Word of her misdeeds did travel through the castle, and the Ravenclaws found out at breakfast, after a Slytherin Prefect told Lenore Betts, one of the Ravenclaw Prefects, a discreet warning about Parkinson's manipulative ways....

"She was only a third year, for Merlin's sake.  You should probably school your girls not to have anything to do with him."

Lenore had not yet had time to gather up her housemates for a lecture, but word did travel down the table and Sylvia saw their chance.  Raphael quickly gathered the others.

"They are not going to want to sit with two boys, but perhaps you could suggest a trade.  We will take Selwyn and Rosier, and you just ask them nicely to switch because you wish to get to know Annabel Ikes a little better...."Raph raised his eyebrow suggestively.

"OK, we can try that, why not?"  Jasper shrugged.  "I'd really like some pointers.  And Potions is in half an hour."  He nodded towards Imogen, who was nibbling on Sylvia's toast.  "Could we use her?  Anyone got a quill and parchment?"

They wrote out a quick note, asking Rosier and Selwyn to meet them at Potions early.  Imogen discreetly dropped the note into Cassie's lap in mid flight, with minimum fanfare.

It took Professor Snape about 20 minutes to figure out what was going on.  Miss Selwyn and Miss Rosier were obviously trying to distance themselves from bad company.  He could not call them out, and had no choice but to accept the new seating.  But how had they convinced the Ravenclaws to break up their table?  What was in it for them?

That became evident as the days lesson progressed, and Mandrake roots were shredded to the Restorative Potion.  The next steps were tricky.  The students needed to accerate the heat under their cauldrons quickly, dissolve the roots just enough, and then cool the potion rapidly, before the other ingredients were overcooked.  Mr. Breckenridge in particular waited before completing this step - waited and was clearly listening while he coached Miss Fawley.  There it was.

Well, he wasn't going to change coarse.  As far as he was concerned, it was an acceptable way to handle conflict - more acceptable than the whinging he was getting from the Ravenclaw ladies' table.  Four students collaborated and solved a problem on their own, quietly, taking advantage of a circumstance, and did not involve him.  Perhaps the other three could take note.

++++

Juno Perriss was, in some circumstances, a decent young man.  He would never really become friends with Sylvia, but they woud develop over the years what could best be described as an affectionate mutal tolerance.  They seldom interacted, but grew to exist very comfortably in each other's orbit.  So he does not feature into the story much.

Perriss was having difficulty with the same issues Jasper was, although he was not as confidently vocal about it.  He engaged in some quiet tinkering to try to dissolve the most stubborn ingredients at the correct temperature, and through trial and error he was making progress, but yes, some direction would be nice.

However, out of the four at the Ravenclaw boys + Sylvia table, he was the only one who hesitated at using Annabel Ikes misfortune to further his Potions grade.  There was something..........distasteful about the concept.  He mentioned this to Breckenridge back in the dorm, after Potions was over.  Breckenridge had volleyed a couple of flirtacious comments accross the table "Mate - I think we have definitely upgraded from Mathony and Gustavo!" to play the part, and Ikes' cheeks had gone flaming red as some of the Slytherin's chuckled nastily.

"Yeah, Breckenridge, it is your lucky day!"  "They really come out of their shells after midnight, you should try it - the Head Boy's room is not in use this year if you need a private space!  Password 'bag a slag' " and so on.  Ikes looked like she was on the verge of tears.  Perriss tried to give her a sympethetic look.

But after they were heading back to their common room after their last class of the day, Perriss finally plucked up his nerve.

"was the really necessary - back in Potions."

Breckenridge had the grace to look a little guilty.

"Just trying to break the tension a little.  I didn't expect the Slytherin's to roast their own House.  I thought it would be more like "Yeah, it's your lucky day, but don't get too hopeful" kind of comeback.

"I can see that.  It just doesn't seem right that this third year girl is getting all this shame while Parkinson just basks in it all."

"No, but that is reality.  What are we going to do about it?"

"Maybe not make it worse for her." Perriss suggested awkardly.

"Yeah."

They never spoke of it again.  But in the future, they treated their new Slytherin tablemates as they did Sylvia - polite, tolerant, but not particularly friendly.  It was the best they could do.

School year set in the book Chamber of Secrets 

Only eight students had received an Outstanding in their Potions OWLS and been allowed to progress to the 6th year.  Three Slytherins, three Ravenclaws, one Gryffindor, and one Hufflepuff.  This was actually the largest group this class had seen in several years, mainly because Professor Snape was being accused by the Board of Governors as being too selective.    His choices were to add the students with Exceeds Expectations, or to slightly increase the number of Outstandings.  He chose the latter.  His student selection was supposed to be representative of all the houses.  Thus the token Gryffindor and token Hufflepuff.

Had it been his choice, he would have had four, perhaps five students.  Marcus Flint would have been the first student to go, however, his father was on said Board of Governors, and as such, Professor Snape was stuck with him.  Next up:  Percy Weasley.  There were very few options amongst the Gryffindor's and Professor Snape had chosen the highest scoring of that crop of dunderheads, but without the buffer of the rest of them, it was almost immediately clear that Weasley had no real aptitude or interest in Potions, just career climbing.  The Hufflepuff, Edward Raynott, was somewhat better - for one thing he was quieter, without the need to be constantly demonstrating to everyone how smart he was.  This was fortunate; the best that could be said was that he was considerably more intelligent than Flint.  

The two remaining Slytherins had been carefully cultivated for years, to the point of tolerability.  Julia Rosier, and Cassie Selwyn.  Reasonable brains, with the ability to squirrel away information and bring it out at the right time, no matter how long it had been since they had heard it, without undue commentary.  They also had various family members on the Board, and by staying in their good graces, he could trust them to tone down Mr. Flint, senior.

Determining Professor Snape's feedback has always been a bit of a challenge.  He almost never speaks.  His face is usually a frozen blank mask.  There may be a microshift in his expression for a brief second.  If you blink, you may miss it.  And, of course, it wouldn't do to stare.  For one thing, it is unwise to take your attention off your potion.  For another, if he were to catch you at it, it is highly unlikely he would provide any useful feedback on your potion, just general sneering. 

So you have to have an awareness of where he is in the room, and when he is likely to stop by your table, and then, as he pauses, dart your eyes without turning your head at the most likely moment.  If your potion is proceeding as anticipated, he will not change his expression.  If he is whatever version of pleased that he allows himself, there will be a split second lift of a brow.  If you are in danger of screwing up, he will look briefly irritated.  But because you are not important enough for actual instruction, he generally will not stop to tell you what you are doing wrong, not unless he decides to gather the energy for a particularly witty insult.  Those are generally reserved for the Gryfindors.  

The remaining students were the ones that had not yet turned 17.  Sadly, neither of the Sytherin ladies were among them.  Nor Miss Mathony.  No.  He had to deal with Percy Weasley, Marcus Flint, and Melanie Harlow.

Miss Harlow was quite displeased to be left behind.  Flint really had no redeeming qualities, and his lack of general decorum made him a constant thorn in Professor Snape's side.  Weasley was a pompous twat.  Snape had a fleeting malicious thought to put the three of them at a table, just to see what would happen, but of course common sense prevailed, and he allowed them to stay at their normally assigned stations.  This meant that Flint had no one to copy his work from, which would inevitably lead to him bothering Miss Harlow.  Snape pretended not to notice Miss Harlow's growing frustration.

At least it was an opportunity for the unlikely trio to improve on their abysmal antidote making skills.  Of course, Flint was beyond help, and he was unable to copy Miss Harlow's work (not that it was that worth copying) because Snape gave them all different potions to make antidotes for.  Weasley was doing slightly better, but he had no friends in this class to bounce ideas off of, so although he had put some effort into figuring out where he went wrong the last class where they had attempted antidotes, it was still a trial and error process, with an emphasis on the error.

So one hour in, and the class was nowhere near making one successful antidote.  Only Miss Harlow had actually been able to identify her potion, just because it was the very distinctive Amortenia.   Professor Snape had privately dubbed her "most likely to be in the company of a roofied peer" in his head, and thought he might help her along in being able to defend herself and her friends before she was booted from his class for good.  Weasley had been given a potion called Eternal Stink, that was basically harmless, but would make the taker emit a very foul odor. Professor Snape was tempted to make him ingest it, with an assignment of having the appropriate antidote by the next class period.  Flints potion would make the ingester glow in the dark, and was adjusted for Gryffindors colors to boot.  Well, the red was more garnish, and instead of gold it was more like a neon yellow, but still......"

With 40 minutes of class time, the rest of the students came straggling in.  Their professor skimmed the group for tell tale signs of who may not have passed their apparition test, and was relieved to see his Slytherin ladies appeared whole, unruffled, and in good spirits,  Raynott was grinning joyfully.  Breckenridge was glum, and missing all of the hair on the right side of his head.  Miss Mathony brought up the rear, looking unbothered as always, and as Professor Snape took in her appearance, looking for any missing fingernails, eyelashes, etc, he saw her more clearly with a start.

When had she grown taller than Breckenridge?  Her Hogwarts robes hit somewhere around mid calf, instead of falling to her ankles.  She must have grown at least four inches since she was last measured.  Her face looked different as well - her jawline longer, her chin sharper, emphasizing a feature that he had not been able to articulate before - her ears were not set in her head quite normally - something was off.  Usually, her hair covered her ears, but today, her hairstyle left them more exposed.

His face as blank and impassive as ever, he privately pondered a possible conclusion - that his star pupil, actually, if he was being completely honest, the most promising student to take a seat in his dungeon in many a year, was not completely human.  What species, he actually had no idea.  She was obviously not a vampire (he would have killed Dumbledore for that one), goblin or giant (the latter two were species represented among the Hogwarts faculty).  He doubted she was a werewolf - sure of it, in fact - as she was present during all classes, not missing any around the full moon.   Not a veela, obviously.  Some sort of dryad, perhaps.   It should not have mattered, except after the fiasco that was Lupin during his own time at Hogwarts, he did NOT like surprises.

He assigned the tardy students to determine the names of one of the potions, and told them to come up with an antidote on their own time.  Of course, it was not their fault they had missed most of class, but he would never say so out loud.  Both Slytherin ladies had the Amortenia antidote done in the remaining time, it was not a difficult potion, and he personally had schooled them in detecting and deflecting love potions in his off hours.  

 As he had hoped, Miss Harlow did pay attention and learned from their example; it was the most he could give her as a parting gift.  He had given up trying to teach her NEWT level potions.  Breckenridge, to his credit, gamely went to assist Flint.  While this was ever a losing battle, privately Professor Snape did credit his willingness to do so.  In the end, Breckenridge was hopelessly lost in trying to follow Flint's thought process.  Foolishly, he mistook some random ingredients Flint was inexplicably using as actual separated ingredients.  

Towards the back of the classroom Raynott and Miss Mathony were circling Weasley's table.  Of the three, Weasley had made the most progress in separating out some of the ingredients, but as Miss Mathony quickly recognized, had managed to contaminate absolutely everything in the process, possibly even Miss Harlow's potion the next table over.  Raynott stepped back, his good mood evaporated, while Miss Mathony approached the teacher's desk, and inquired in a bored but polite voice.

"Sir?  May I have some uncontaminated samples of the potions to work with?"

There was no way to decently deny this very reasonable request.  If it was a Gryfindor, he would have refused anyway, but in this case, he merely waved his wand without looking in her direction, and three vials floated upwards.  Miss Mathony gathered them, placed them carefully in a Potions carrying case she kept in her book bag, and nodded her thanks.  She did not attempt to assist her classmates, but took in the scene (skipping over Miss Rosier and Miss Selwyn's more competent assistance) involving now all 4 of her male classmates with reluctant dispassionate interest.  Professor Snape did not blame her.  Her classmates that had entered the room first had already taken on the only student to whom it was possible to render assistance.  There was no way to assist Flint, as he had added ingredients to the potion that had they been correct and successfully brewed would have managed to dispel individual ingredients, but as it was the potion was even more contaminated than Weasley's.  And it was entertaining to watch her evade Weasley, who did try to engage her.  She did provide a small bit of feedback

"It is difficult to hazard a guess, but it appears that you tried to separate the ingredients too quickly, and that several are only partially separated.  Hard to tell from a quick glance, though."  And she did not concern herself to provide more than a quick glance.  It was much wiser to start anew than to try to sort out that mess.  "Separate them too quickly" was her shorthand for "only use one separation spell regardless of ingredients being plant, animal or mineral based".   Miss Mathony's preferred method of starting to dissect her potion to make an antidote was to use three separate separation spells, accordingly.  Not that she chose to share that much information with Weasley.  

There was nothing to do as the class came to a chaotic end but sweep through.  He vanished the mess on Flint's desk without comment.  As he hoped, Flint looked sufficiently miserable without the aid of his housemates, and with any luck would beg his father to drop Potions altogether.  Miss Selwyn and Miss Rosier were certainly tiring of babysitting him during class.  At the next table, he gave Miss Harlow zero marks, while praising the assisting Slytherins for their perfectly brewed antidote, which he accepted for marks, for both of them, even though they had only concocted one potion between them.

After a dramatic pause, he swept to Weasley's table.  Raynott was standing next to Weasley, providing moral support, while Miss Mathony was several paces away, looking bored.  

"Zero marks, Weasley," he sneered as he vanished this mess as well, "And one 12 inch scroll of parchment explaining 3 separate methods to separate ingredients, including both spell and potion based, due to me by the next class period."  He paused to allow this to sink in a moment.   "Miss Mathony.  You accomplished nothing in the over half hour that was allotted to you.  Your identification of the potion samples, as well as successful completion of antidotes of all three are due by the next class period.  That will be all.  I expect this classroom to be as spotless as it was before class began."  The students quietly began putting away cauldrons, measuring instruments, and unused ingredients.  Miss Mathony followed behind performing cleansing spells on the lab surfaces to decrease any contamination for the next class.  She took particular care close to Weasley's station, even spelling the floor, ceiling, and when he wasn't looking in her direction, Weasley himself.  Professor Snape caught her eye for the briefest of seconds, the corner of the right side of his mouth raised in a split second smirk.

Flint was the first student out of the classroom, practically fleeing, but Breckenridge, instead of following, stepped aside, to allow the Slytherin ladies to go next, and then Miss Harlow, who glanced back at him, a bit confused.  But he waited until Weasley and Raynott filed out, choosing to walk out with Miss Mathony.  And as the classroom door was shutting behind them, Professor Snape could hear Breckenridge making a hopeful pitch to share the samples she had garnered.  

++++++

"If you would like information regarding spells to separate ingredients in a Potion, Professor Flitwick will likely be able to assist you.  If you would like a Potion recipe to separate ingredients I found the library contained relevant information....."

"C'MON Mathony.  Nothing in this Potions class is ever that simple.  Of course, I can follow a Potions recipe, or learn a spell, but this class is not like any other.  Nothing works the way it is supposed to......you on the other hand.  Melanie saw your paper on antidotes last month, she said you got an "O......"

"Really?" Sylvia asked flatly.  "I don't remember showing my paper to Harlow."

"She said you left it out on your desk in the dorm......."

"I never leave graded homework out on my desk.  So there are 3 possibilities.  One, Harlow was lying about my grade, and never saw a paper, I barely scraped an "A".  In which case, my help would not be helpful.  Two, I am lying, and I left my paper out for all to see, and am a braggart.  In which case, I want to be your favorite teacher's TOP performing student, and am not going to help you.  Or 3, I did get an "O", but placed my paper in my Potions folder, and Harlow snooped.  In which case I would be way too irritated to help you.  In none of these scenarios are we working together on antidotes."

She and Breckenridge were back in their common room.  They had never been friends, exactly.  Sylvia was not sure why.   Breckenridge was generally amicable enough.  But after having observed him for the last several years, she doubted he was generally interested in her as a person, just a possible resource.  In their mutual classes where Sylvia had struggled, mainly Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, he acknowledged her neutrally.   He was more inclusive  during Herbology, Potions, and Arithmancy.  The obvious strategy would be to engage him during her stronger subjects, and see if he would return the favor, but that was not a game she was interested in playing.  Her only goal in Transfiguration had been to earn a passing grade, and then drop the class as soon as possible.  Her goal in DADA was to mine the information she felt was relevant to her, but she did not really care about her grade in the way most Ravenclaws obsessed.  

He must have realized this, because he did not pout at her answer.

"OK, Mathony.  I guess that's fair.  But, like, what's up?  ARE you trying for an apprenticeship or something?"

"Honestly, I think Snape is trying to figure out who can figure stuff out on their own.  I don't think helping you with this one project will help you in the long run.  For one thing, I can't believe he wouldn't figure it out.  And he would not be impressed.  He seems to be trying to weed out for next year, to see who can work it out on their own.  There is no way he can cover everything."

"So I'd go into next year even more behind and frustrated than now," Breckenridge nodded.  "That tracks, actually.  Why do you reckon Melanie got the Love Potion."

"He's given up on her, my best guess.  The message seems to be like "well, if you can't learn NEWT Potions, at least learn this life skill.....she will not be joining us next year.  I don't think he has decided about you, yet, though.  Especially after you gifted him and the other Snakes half an hour where they didn't have to deal with Flint......."

"OK, ANY Hint.  Any at all what was going on there?  I tried to help, but failed miserably."

"I just passed by the desk briefly.  It looks like he had 3 ingredients for a revealing Potion, but hadn't bothered to make it, was just adding them to the sample Potion individually, instead of brewing them first.  And then he had some sort of green slime, not sure WHAT that was.  I'm positive Snape has written him off completely."

"His father forced his position in the class......"

"I think if his father tries that again, Flint himself may be made into Potion ingredients..." Sylvia shrugged.

"Not sure what we'd brew with that, Essence of Flint...."

"Today," Sylvia responded, imitating Snape's sneering tone, "There is a slight change to our syllabus.  We had an ......opportunity.....to obtain a specific ingredient, and so this afternoon we will be learning to brew the antidote to the wit sharpening potion............."

It was quite unexpected snark from his normally silent classmate, which made it particularly delicious.  Breckenridge could not help but laugh, and feel something like connection, even if it was at someone else's expense.  He did not feel remotely sorry for Flint.  After a moment, he continued,  "you know, regardless of what Snape decides, I think I am done with the frustration of his class.  It's not enough, just to brush up on Potions over the summer......spending so much time tracking down pieces of information before I can even begin brewing......it's really cutting into everything else."

"What do you want to do after graduation?" Sylvia asked him.

"I want to be a Healer.  But less emphasis on making Potions.  I will leave that to the Apothecary.  Or possibly wait, and take Potions again, from a different teacher, after leaving Hogwarts."

"You won't be the first student to take that route," Sylvia told him.

"This way I can focus only on medicinal potions, and not, like all of them.  And perhaps a different professor would help.  His terrible personality aside, I feel like I need more direction than he is providing."

"That would be a nice change, won't it?"

"Did you REALLY get an "O" on the antidote paper?" this time, asked longingly.

"I did, but it is the only "O" I have gotten on an assignment all year.  Really."

"I'm only getting an "A" in the class.  And barely.  Melanie is still in "D" territory....don't tell her I told you....."

"I don't think Harlow has any room to complain about her grades being shared without her permission.........." Sylvia responded pointedly.

"Are you going to call her out?" Breckenridge looked nervous.

"I don't know yet.  That might involve a prolonged discussion.........so.......

maybe just easier to jinx my Potions folder."

"You know, I think this is the longest conversation I personally have ever had with you......"

"It's the first time you have really needed something from me."  her housemate had the grace to look a little embarrassed.

"We shut you out in Potions I guess.  And the other classes.  I could have done a better job...."

"I am not complaining.  In most cases, I prefer to work alone.  Potions especially."

"After today, I understand why.  Can I at least ask when you are planning on using the lab to antidotes?  If nothing else, I don't think you should go alone...."

"You are welcome to join me, but yes, I do go alone, I have my own methods...." Sylvia told him vaguely.   She had been sneaking out for years, usually for timely plant harvests, but sometimes to visit the Forbidden Forest for other ingredients that needed a moonlit harvest.  "I am taking my lab time tomorrow evening at 8 pm.  I believe Professor Snape is obligated to provide an escort,  to avoid students from being petrified...."

"How many are we up to now?"
"There were 2 more last weekend, including Penelope, which is part of why he is even more terse than usual..."

"I'm not completely convinced he did not petrify that second year himself....."

Sylvia laughed.  She only vaguely knew who Breckenridge was referring to because it was one of the "Chosen One"'s 2 sidekicks.  Rumor had it Professor Snape found her particularly annoying.

"That would have been a clever cover."

"Do you like him as a teacher?" Breckenridge asked her.  Sylvia considered.

"I don't think of it that way.  He is not a particularly likeable person.  There are pros and cons to his approach.  I like having a paired down NEWT class, and am looking forward to the removal of Flint and Weasley in particular for next year.  I wish they were not in the class now."

"And us?"

"Harlow is holding you back," Sylvia told him.  "You will be going on a thought process, and then become enmeshed in her commentary."

Breckenridge looked thoughtful.

"More than anything else this year, I have figured out he really wants us to THINK.  To put the pieces together.  There are times when you are starting to do that, and then.........."

"Melanie keeps yapping.  What do I think about this, did I remember this?  Is her potion coming along better than mine........."

"That drives Snape insane, by the way.  He avoids our table because of it."

"Do you think his approach is actually encouraging independent thought, or just causing crippling anxiety?"

"Probably some of both.  I think he wasted a lot of time by not explaining his expectations up front, leaving us scrambling to figure out what he wanted, and why the text book was not working."

"I don't think his method is helping me.  I dislike that there is one teacher for a subject, and if we don't connect with their teaching methods, we are still stuck with them for 7 years."

"Fair enough.  I do like being free to explore different methods of problem solving.  I like not being micromanaged.  I feel like even though I don't get top marks, he grades fairly, not expecting perfection when we are still figuring things out."

"What grade DO you have in the class."

"At least an "A" If I am very lucky, an "E".  the "O" on the antidote paper may have helped with that."  Actually she solidly had an "E" at this point, but she didn't see the point in bragging.  She could have deferred the question altogether, that might invite speculation.  

The next evening, she and Breckenridge showed up in the Potions classroom at 8 pm, which they had signed up for, joining a few other students for detention.  Sylvia sighed inwardly.  Brewing just with Breckenridge at another table sounded almost pleasant, but enduring Professor Snape supervising detention was going to keep everything and everyone on edge.  She debated on where to set up.  No one wanted to be on the Professor's radar, and were trying to choose the least conspicuous position possible.  It was likely to be the most peaceful right in front of the teacher's desk, where no one else was likely to want to sit.

But Professor Snape billowed in at 8:02, took in the assembled students, and shook his head.

"I don't think so, Miss Mathony.  I trust a 6th year NEWT student is not going to need the same level of supervision as a student serving detention.  Back left table.  Weasley - I don't care which of you - right here - he indicated the right table in front of him, first seat. " Goyle.  Next to him.  Other Weasley - " he indicated the left table in front of the the teacher desk, and Crabbe, on the other side."  

Sylvia gathered her things, and moved to the back of the room.  She noticed a couple of things, one that Breckenridge was still not in her vicinity, and two, Professor Snape had arranged it so that each Weasley twin would be responsible for supervising one of the hapless second years.  While she was setting up her work station she noticed Professor Snape setting containers of animal parts on the desks with the detention students, and she went ahead and set up a modified Bubble Head charm that basically extended around her table.  Then she dumped the half of the contents of the first vial into a glass cauldron, and put in three drops of a revealing potion she had made a few weeks ago.

It was not a full revealing potion - those were finicky, and didn't work on all ingredients.  This potion only loosened the ingredients, making them easier to separate.  After her potion dissolved completely into the sample, under very low heat, she set out a tray with dividers and took out her wand.

She cast the spells nonverbally, three of them.  First for animal based ingredients, which came out pretty easily.  Eye of eel.  Lizard liver.  Although easy enough to separate them, it took longer to identify what they were, which included 2 more spells. Then for the minerals based, yielding some tiny yellow crystals with a distinctive odor.  And finally for plant based ingredients.  This was the trickiest part.  The plants were hard to separate from each other, and no longer resembled their natural form, and could not be identified.  There were six separate ingredients, in little piles of green slime in varying shades, with the exception of one that was dark purple.  Sylvia had to perform more spells over these pieces, which projected a brief image of what the plant looked like whole, before it dissolved.  After she had finally identified all of the ingredients, she could start to guess at the potion, and then use her favorite arithmancy algorithm to predict what antidote ingredients might be effective, in accordance with Golpalott's Third Law.  It was possible to do this without completely identifying the potion, or poison, which was not always feasible, but it was a lot easier if you knew what the potion was supposed to do.  The arithmancy model gave her a 67% probability the antidote she calculated would be 75%,  effective, not great results for a very bad smell.  Sylvia added charcoal of cedar, in incremental amounts to the calculation, then went back and adjusted stirs.  The prediction came out a lot closer to what she was hoping for, and she went ahead and mixed up the antidote, labeled it with her name, date, ingredients, and took it to Professor Snape.

"Well, that is one out of three," he told her, accepting the vial.  "It has taken you an hour and a half.  What is your plan for the other 2?  Your time ends at 10."  

"It won't take half an hour to make the Amortentia antidote," Sylvia told him.  "I do think an extension for the other potion is reasonable.  After all, the rest of the class just had to come up with one antidote in the 2 hour class time.  I will have 2 of the 3 done."

"You have had 2 days."

"This was the first lab time I had free that was available."

"Your scheduling conflicts are not my problem."

"Very well."  Sylvia nodded her assent, and declined to argue the point further.  She made the love potion antidote in 10 minutes and submitted that as well, then finished cleaning up.  The recipe had been in 2 separate texts on antidotes assigned some weeks earlier.  She was surprised Harlow had not remembered, which was not like her.

"Again," Professor Snape sneered, accepting the vial.  "You have another antidote to submit."

"There are no more lab appointments before tomorrow's class." Sylvia pointed out.

"So you are going to accept zero marks."

"Unless you can suggest another option."  his student was polite but unconcerned.

"Next time, perhaps more prep work before utilizing your lab time."  Sylvia considered.  She had done prep work, reviewing the antidote procedure that had earned her an "O" on her paper, setting up equations ahead of time, having everything organized and ready to go, including an Amortenia antidote recipe, with ingredients as prepared as she could ahead of time.  She had worked carefully, methodically, but conscientiously.  But perhaps her method of antidote preparation, although sound, lacked efficiency when under a time crunch.  She would not have the luxury of an hour and a half if an emergency arose.

"Yes, sir.  Thank you." she responded to her teacher.  It was clear she was going to need to figure out quickly how a potion would respond to various methods of ingredient separation, and use the best method for the substance at hand, to save time.  That was the problem with an assignment marked "O" she realized.  She assumed the thought process had been thoroughly explored, and there was not much more to be gained.  Well, that was clearly wrong.

Professor Flitwick arrived at 10 pm, with jovial greetings, to walk herself and Breckenridge back to the Ravenclaw Tower, and Professor McGonagall, lips pursed in disapproval, came for the Weasley twins, and the 2 Slytherin 2nd year buffoons waited dutifully for their Head of House, who was taking his sweet time.  Sylvia was relieved to finally put the evening in what a muggle would refer to as the rearview mirror.  She had plenty of homework she needed to complete, but was planning to go to bed, and get an early start, instead.  The next day was Friday, and then she would have the  weekend to catch up.  The school year was exhausting, and there were still final exams to worry about, in addition to whatever monster was running amok in the castle. Dumbledore had been removed, which did not really affect her life, except it was putting more work on the teachers, who in turn were crabbier.  Hagrid was also gone, and this was a bit more problematic.  He was the most helpful person at Hogwarts in helping collect animal ingredients for Potions without harm, in exchange for listening to him ramble on and on about said animals.  And they still had over three weeks to go before they left for summer break.

+++

The next day, in Potions class, no one had three antidotes.  They had not been demanded of the students that attended the entire prior class, nor the Slytherin ladies.  Breckenridge handed in an antidote to Flint's Potion,  Raynott and Sylvia had provided an antidote for Weasley's, and all four of the ladies in the class provided an antidote to the Love Potion ("It would behoove you gentlemen to learn this one as well" Snape had mentioned), Weasley provided his assigned essay, and Flint handed in nothing.  Sylvia also provided an unasked for piece of parchment, that contained a brief outline of where she went wrong, and what methods for ingredient separation she should have tried to make more timely antidotes.  It was her best guess, since she did not have time to test out any theories, which she pointed out.  A Bezoar would work for many (but not all)  poisons, but not for potions to which an antidote was desired that was not a poison, such as Amortenia or Eternal Stink.  She acknowledged she needed to be faster.

The following week, her short, impromptu essay was returned with no comments, but affixed with a second sheet of parchment.  Sylvia discreetly put it in her book bag and took it out curiously when she was finally alone, at the end of the day, in one of the study alcoves in the Ravenclaw Tower.  The 2 pieces of parchment were stuck together with a bit of wax in the upper right hand corner, and she carefully separated them.

The second sheet of paper contained familiar spiky handwriting.   It was a written permission slip to check out a book in the Restricted Section entitled Moste Potente Potions.  Of course, more work.  It didn't seem to matter that the assignment due date was passed, and he wasn't going to be accepting late work.  She obviously was not done with this assignment, and instead of just answering the question, he assigned more reading.

With only 20 minutes until the library closed, she did not feel like trying to work out a last minute escort, so she downed her favorite sneaking out combo - invisibility potion, and another potion that allowed her to see in the dark.  She had to dose it carefully, so it would wear off by the time she got to the library, and just took a few drops, saving more to take on the way back.

Madam Pince was not happy with her, but that was nothing new.  She had to accept the permission slip.

"Where is your escort?" she hissed, as she stamped the book.  Sylvia signed her name on the check out card, frowning at it.  Withdrawing her wand, she made a duplication of the card before she handed it back to the librarian, whose irritation grew.  But there was nothing exactly to object to, it was not against any rules to duplicate the card.

"Waiting outside," she lied.  Fortunately, Madam Pince had already lost interest.

"5 minutes until curfew....."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She did not make it back by curfew, although the Ravenclaw guardian did not mind, as long as she could answer the question, asking where water came from when the Aguamenti charm was cast.  After being admitted back into the tower, Sylvia, still invisible, tapped Raphael on the shoulder as she passed him, sprawled out in one of the cushiest window seats.  He waited a couple of minutes, then followed her to their enclosed favorite study spot.

It took a couple of more minutes for the invisibility potion to wear off, and Raphael found it disconcerting to watch a book emerge from nowhere, and a wand.  Then, clothing became visible first, and it looked like enchanted Hogwarts cloak and girls' school uniform no one was wearing but still animated.  A couple of minutes more, and Sylvia's form and features became discernible.

"What is this?" Raphael asked, pointing to the book, which Sylvia tapped with her wand, causing it to increase in size.  It turned out to be a large, concerning looking ancient tome.

"My homework assignment for Potions," Sylvia sighed.  "I need to learn how to make antidotes faster."

"I thought you were done with antidotes.  Actually rumor has it, you scored an "O" a while back........."

"My assignment only seems to have escalated from there.  It is now not enough that I learn how to make antidotes, now I need to identify the best way to break down the offending potion so I can make them quickly........"

"Extra assignment from the Bat?  Like extra credit?"

"As if......but that is not why you are here."
"OK, I'll bite, why am I here?"
"I need advice.  So my parchment acknowledging the error of my ways, that I handed in to appease him on an incomplete assignment absolute no one else completed either, was returned with a permission slip to check out this book" - she nodded towards Moste Potente Potions - "from the restricted section."

"Looks ominous."

"Oh, it is.  It has all kinds of horrible potion recipes in it.  Like here is a recipe that attracts spiders.  I think," she gestured towards a recipe with an illustration of a woman wearing what appeared to be a large spider on her head as a hat. "I have not yet found the part where it explains how to make antidotes quickly, but I just got it.  As a sidenote, I doubt it actually explains this, but has some type of clues, leading to more late nights......anyway.  the reason I need advice - well - look at the checkout card.  The last student to check it out, some months ago, was Hermione Granger....."  she held out the duplicated check out card for Raphael to see.  The handwriting looked like a sample from primary school to copy,  the letters a bit oversized, and formed with care.
"Isn't she the one who -"

"Yeah.  She is still currently petrified, with Penelope.  And she was in the hospital wing exactly a month after checking this book out, covered in fur...."

"Do you know which potion she was interested in?"

"The book naturally opens to Polyjuice Potion, like someone held it open to that page for a long time...."

"Wicked........"

"I'm guessing she brewed Polyjuice and somehow turned herself into some kind of animal.  But it makes me wonder what else she was up to, especially with the spiders."

"We have been seeing loads more spiders recently.....Does that recipe look more - used recently.?"

"Honestly, I cannot tell."

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

"That is why I need advice, actually.  I could tell Professor Snape.  But he seems to despise anything but the most necessary of interactions......Granger is not a Slytherin, and I doubt he cares about her at all....."

"You could tell - well the Headmaster is removed at present, but perhaps Professor McGonagall.  She is Granger's Head of House.  Or Madam Pomphrey, perhaps....."

"In both of these scenarios I am having to explain what I am doing with this book..."

"So?  A teacher assigned it.  I don't see the problem...."

"The problem is difficult to articulate.  I was the only one assigned this book.  It is a book with - delicate information that can be misused.  It suggests that I have likely earned a spot in next year's class.  He has hinted darkly on several occasions that he will be paring down dramatically, like half or less.  The 2 Slytherin girls will obviously be allowed to continue, so that means one or possibly 2 spots left at most.  "

"You don't want to let on he assigned the book to you?"
"I do not.  He values discretion above all else.  Inserting myself into a high profile school security issue by demonstrating he has assigned me, and only me, a restricted book is drawing undo attention.  Something he absolutely loathes.  I do not want to be on his bad side right now.  I don't really care what he thinks of me, but I do want to continue potions."

"Who is your competition?"

"In theory, everyone else in the class.  Realistically, just Breckenridge.  Maybe Raynott, but I doubt it.  Not Weasley.  Not Harlow.  Certainly not Flint.  I'm not competing against the Slytherin girls, they are already in."

"You think he'd take away a spot he would have otherwise granted?"
"Yes.  He cares very much about who has knowledge of potentially dangerous potions and how they handle this knowledge.  Showing off, either directly or indirectly would infuriate him."

"And so is speaking to him?"

"Yeah.  Pretty much."

"Well, I see your problem.  Because unless they fix the current issue of a monster running amok around the castle, there will likely be no Potions class next year, or any other class.  Is there any way to decrease the fallout of either option?  Like not mention Snape when you show them the check out card of the book?  Or butter him up somehow before you speak to him, if you go that route?"

"Butter him up - Merlin.  No.  Actually, if you have to speak to him, use the least words possible.  THAT is the closest anyone comes to buttering him up.  Still that might work better than evading why I got the book.  Actually I don't have to say much at all, just hand him the card, mention that Polyjuice appeared to have been brewed, not sure what else, and let him take it from there..."  Sylvia appeared relieved.  

"That's all?"
"Yes.  He is an intelligent person, whatever else he is.  I will work under the assumption he does not want a monster petrifying students, or even Filch's cat -"

"I wouldn't go that far - "

"OK, likely he doesn't care about the cat.....but if he cares at all, he will decide if the information is useful and act on it."

"Then you are off the hook..."

"Yep, punting it right to him.  After I have a chance to really look through the book, of course.  Once anyone in authority finds out Granger was interested in it, they may try to get it back."

"OK, good luck then....."

Sylvia spent the weekend combing through Moste Potente Potions, and was pleasantly surprised when she finally stumbled upon a useful clue - a footnote that listed the likely most effective way to separate out potion ingredients based on consistency , color, and clarity of the potion in question.  It was written with the particular recipes of the book in mind, but hopefully would apply to other potions as well.  Sylvia carefully duplicated the information and put it with her antidote paper.

Still, the book took up much of her time, which she made up for by hurrying through her DADA essay on identifying and fighting Inferi.  She did this by nicking Penelope Clearwater's copy of "Encounters with Inferi - a Guide to Invincibility" by Gildaroy Lockhart, and using a fair amount of parchment length to quote and comment on passages.  This would be her last year on the subject, she thought to herself as she put the completed assignment in her homework folder and returned Penelope's book (Harlow looked totally scandalized, the hypocrite).  She did not have much of an aptitude for the subject, for starters, and the last 2 professors had added no real helpful insights.  Her time could be better spent elsewhere.  This was her last paper due before finals, and she was looking forward to never watching Lockhart preen himself in front class again.  Professor Snape, for all his faults, was far less irritating.

Monday afternoon she waited until Professor Snape had dismissed class, and hung back a bit.  She knew she had about 30 seconds to make her point, and needed to be brief, while not appearing bothered or rushed.  But he would likely be leaving himself, as the 6th years were the last class of the day, so she could not dawdle.

"Professor."

He raised a brow, and her 30 seconds had begun.  She handed him the check out card from the library.

"The recipe for Polyjuice Potion seems to have been recently accessed."

"Really?  How did you determine this?"

"The book fell open to that page, like it had been held there for a long time, and there were some fresher splatters....."

"Why is this card not in the library?"
"It is a duplicate, sir.  The original was retained by Madam Pince."

Professor Snape's expression appeared blank, which Sylvia took to mean he was processing something, and did not wish to share any concern."

"Have you spoken to anyone else about this?"  Of course, she had spoken to Raph.  But while her best friend adored gossip, he was very tight lipped.  Professor Snape was likely concerned if anyone in authority knew.

"No sir.  I was unsure if this information was even useful."

"It is likely not.  You would be wise to forget you even knew about it.  Return the book to the library."

"Of course, sir."  Sylvia turned to go, looking back a split second to catch the nod that acknowledged her dismissal.

So few seconds had passed, she was able to catch up to Harlow and Breckenridge with little difficulty.

Sylvia did not really enjoy many of the social aspects of being a student.  On the surface, it looked like it would be fine.  She was not a pureblood, but was from a solid wizarding family, and while she did not shine as an all around student, she definitely had talents.  She was not conventionally attractive, but she was not really homely either, and with a little bit of work, her tall, gangly frame could be made to look willowy, slender, and eye-catching, if she did not try to go too girly/dainty.  Ravenclaw was a fine house, and she should have fit in nicely there........but...........

Although Ravenclaws were polite on the surface, the undertone was very, very competitive.  There seemed to be constant attempts to one up each other.  Who studied harder for exams.  Who took the  most advanced classes.  Who had the highest grade in Transfiguration.  Who gave the  most complex theoretical answer when called up in Arithmancy.  As the years wore on, it only got worse, as competition to be selected for higher level classes, apprenticeships, and spots in mastery programs appeared. Between the 6th and 7th years, there were only about 18 Raveclaw upperclassmen, you would think there was enough room for everyone, their ambitions, and their ego.  Sylvia learned by watching others never to let anyone know her goals, otherwise classmates would suddenly decide what she wanted was the most desirable thing, and try to crowd her out.  And while perfectly capable of holding her own, Sylvia despised drama.

Out of the three girls with whom she shared a dorm, Posy was the friendliest, the least backstabbing,  but they were not close.  And EVERYONE was snippy at exam times.  Next, Penelope, now a prefect.  She seemed to know everything, about everything and everyone, and much of the House acted like she hung the moon.  Of course, she was currently petrified.  And finally Harlow.  She annoyed Sylvia the most, underhanded and snarky.  Sylvia did not like spending a lot of time in her dorm room, even though her desk, trunk and supplies were there.  She typically would return only to get what she needed, and study in one of the many Ravenclaw study alcoves, or sneak off with Raphael.

There was not enough time to be good at everything, and students who tried this ended up being spread too thin.    But narrowing one's focus too much also backfired.  Subjects tended to feed into each other, as Potions clearly demonstrated.  She met with Professor Flitwick to review her classes and goals for next year.

"I hope to see you in Charms again, my dear.  You have made quite a bit of progress the last 2 years."

"Yes, Professor.  Many of the other subjects rely on charms, or at least wand spells."

"Transfiguration?" he asked pointedly.

"I have no desire to resume it."  She had not taken it this year, and was not regretting that decision.

"Herbology?"
"Of course."

"Yes, well, there is an apprenticeship on the table, I have been told...."

"I appreciate the opportunity.  I am still deciding." 

"Very well.  How about Defense......."
"No.  It has not been worth the time suck, the last 2 years, and I will be setting my sights elsewhere.  Total waste of -"

"Thank you, Miss Mathony.  I will remove it from your schedule," Professor Flitwick steered her firmly away from the territory of disparaging another professor.  The fact he did not try to talk her down meant that he likely agreed Lockhart was not worthy of the title.  

"Moving on -"

"Astronomy and Arithmancy, yes."

"Care of Magical Creatures?"

"It depends......if I have room."

"So far, you should have room, my dear.  Of course we have not yet discussed Potions - "

"I want Potions if it is offered," Sylvia said carefully.  Professor Flitwick sighed and put down his quill.  He had already had discussions with Miss Harlow and Mr. Breckenridge, the latter of whom had informed him Miss Mathony was the only one of the three Professor Snape seemed pleased with 

"And by pleased, I mean, he usually does not openly insult her.  Usually, but not always." Breckenridge had told him.

"Are you not sure it will be offered to you?"
"He has not yet confirmed...........I mean, final grades aren't in......"

"If he does not offer it, and you still wish to continue with Potions, I will advocate for you.  I think you have earned it."

"Thank you.  But I have no desire to force Professor Snape to teach me Potions.  I can't imagine that will be a satisfactory academic experience."  Professor Flitwick laughed out loud.

"No I can see why you would say so.  Well, leaving Potions aside, let's continue... Divination."

"There is not enough gold in all of Gringotts......"

"Muggle studies?"

"When have I ever expressed an interest in - "

"History of Magic?"
"Is that even offered for 7th years....."

"Just kidding, my dear.  Well that just leaves Ancient Runes..."
"It was a fascinating subject.  But I think at the present time, there is not enough headspace...."

"Very well.  I will sign you up for the classes we discussed, and speak with Professor Snape."

++++

It took a while for Professor Flitwick to pin Professor Snape down on which of his students was advancing to 7th year Potions.  Of course, Severus preferred to wait until final exam results were in....

"They have already done their OWLS.  In every OTHER class admission into 7th year from 6th year is just assumed, unless the student is really struggling."

"I spend the entirety of 6th year determining who, if anyone, is appropriate to be learning how to brew the likes of Versitaserum, Polyjuice, Invisibility Potion....."

"There are 2 weeks left in the school year, Severus....And I am considering dropping Flint from Charms next year.  His performance is not quite up to - "

"Very well.  We can discuss this further tonight, I believe we both have midnight patrol.  But don't get your hopes up....."

They met in the dungeons, in the southeast corner of the castle.  Although the pair made an odd team, they were efficient.  Professor Flitwick was close to the ground, the dark corners and the shadows, and Professor Snape scanned the ceilings and the upper walls.  Both held their lit wands at the ready, sometimes casting spells to reveal anything or anyone creeping around.  One by one, every corridor, every dark corner became alight with light and spells as they picked their way through.

"7th year Potions next term, Severus," Professor Flitwick reminded his colleague, sending several mice scampering with a sudden burst of bluish light.

"This will be a short conversation.  The answer is 'no'"

"I am not going to beg you to take my students, Severus.  Peeves!   I know that is you.  Stop it this instant. " he paused to blast the poltergeist away with some sort of smoke.  "It is you who should be begging me to continue with Mr. Flint."

"Good Evening, Baron," Severus said smoothly to the Slytherin Ghost.

"Professors....."

"Has all been quiet about the castle? Have you noticed any.........unusual activity."

"Young Master Haigh is out of bed again, meeting a young lady of the Gryffindor House, Professor.  I enticed him to return to his dormitory, and alerted Sir Nicholas."  The Bloody Baron clanked his chains meaningfully.  

"I appreciate your support, Baron." 

"At your service, my Lord.  Professor."

"Miss Harlow is an automatic no," Professor Snape began.

"She feared as much.  To be honest, I am relieved not to have to talk her down after every Potions class for another school year."

"Breckenridge.  I am hedging towards yes.....but...."

"Mr. Breckenridge has determined that a different method of instruction would be a better fit.  He has decided NOT to return to Potions for 7th year, and continue his Potions education post graduation, with more of a focus on medicinal Potions."

Professor Snape stiffened slightly.  This was both good and bad news.  The good news was that he would not have to deal with a marginally appropriate student for the 7th year.  The bad news was that the fact that his teaching methods were deemed inadequate by this otherwise talented and popular student would attract notice.

"As he wishes."

"Researching your class is affecting his ability to perform in other subjects.  He feels when he has less to balance, perhaps he can devote to Potions the time and attention the subject would deserve."  That was actually a wise decision, and Professor Snape could not find a valid objection.

"That leaves us with Miss Mathony."  Professor Flitwick noticed a sneer or disparagement did not automatically follow.  Telling.

"Is she offered a place?"

"She is."

"And I know she will accept."

"There is also an apprenticeship on the table."

Filius stopped in his tracks, and turned to face his colleague.

"You might have mentioned that sooner.  She has been offered one for Herbology as well........." 

Frowning, the Potions Professor shot a beam of blue light down yet another damp corridor, lighting it up for several seconds revealing an abnormally large toad, who croaked indignantly, and a couple of more mice.

"It is unfortunate Filch's cat is petrified.  Apparently, the Heir of Slytherin does not feed on mice......"

"Or it does, and the mice are here, because the Heir is occupied elsewhere." 

"I would like to know of Miss Mathony's decision about the apprenticeship within the week.  Assuming school resumes next year..."

"Why have you not offered it to her directly?"

"I was planning on sending her an owl.  She is in a difficult position, as her classmates are not continuing.  Your House is negatively competitive enough to put the Slytherin's to shame, Filius."

"Again, do you actually speak to her?  It is not enough, you know, to just grade homework.  Relationships with talented students need to be cultivated.  I know Miss Mathony is not the most gregarious of scholars, however, if you take the time...." 

"I am not in the habit of  indulging in private conversations with female students. "

"And how do you plan on providing her with an apprenticeship?"

"She will have a companion, of course," Professor Snape answered, irritably.  "And I think the companion deserves to know as quickly as possible if her services are required.  She does not need a Potions Apprenticeship on her resume herself."

"You are so loathe to speak directly with Miss Mathony, even after her classroom performance has earned her an actual apprenticeship, that you are forcing someone from your House -"

Professor Snape angrily shot another beam of light from his wand towards the corridor in front of them, lighting up the doors to the Slytherin dormitory.  The door cracked open, illuminating an older male student.

"Coast is STILL not clear, Haigh.  Go back to your dormitory, and STAY THERE," Snape hissed.  The student scurried away, and the door closed behind him.

"You are not going to understand, Filius.  It is not a concern you have EVER had to endure...."

There was a brief silence.

"This is why Miss Selwyn and Miss Rosier always seem to come in a pair," Professor Flitwick said quietly.

"There are plenty of unpleasant things said about me, behind my back.  But there are a few I will. not. tolerate.  Nor give any fodder for anyone to entertain."

His colleague had the grace to look uncomfortable.  Severus was still only in his early 30's, after all.  And, as he had pointed out, accused of all sorts of unsavory things.  It was probably wise to maintain strict professional boundaries.  A year long apprenticeship with lots of private one on one time with a talented female student for a young male professor would be ill advised.  And Severus was also correct that such things would not concern an elderly professor half the size of the average student.

Until Lockhart had shown up this year (and Filius suspected he would be gone with the school year, just like the other DADA teachers) Severus had been the only young single male professor at Hogwarts in quite some time.  Perhaps lack of complacency was a good thing.

"I will speak with Miss Mathony, and compel her to make a timely decision."

"What are her career goals?"

"Apothecary procurement.  I think she is actually less interested in making potions than she is on maximizing the quality of ingredients collected.  But in order to understand the effect the different methods of procurement have on the potions, she needs to take Potions."

"How interested is she in the Herbology apprenticeship?"
"Herbology only deals with plant ingredients, not mineral or animal.  Connecting the dots, I think she believes Potions would give her a broader scope of knowledge.  But she did not wish to presume....."

His colleague nodded, and did not speak again for some time.

+++++

"I'm running late for Herbology, Professor...."
"Yes, my dear, I'm aware.  I'm running late for my 3rd years as well.  I will make this quick.  Professor Snape has indicated you may continue with Potions next year...."

"Oh, thank you......"

"And.  You are offered a Potions Apprenticeship.  But you need to let him know soon."

"Really?" not one for emotion, Sylvia could not quite hide her surprise.

"This cannot completely be a shock...."

"I know I qualified as well as anyone.  But I thought he would not take more than one, and if he did take 2, it would be both of the Slytherins.....glad I didn't take the Herbology position."  Professor Sprout had not pressed her for an answer as the next student in the running was Penelope Clearwater, currently petrified.
"So you are accepting....."

"Yes.  Did the Slytherin's not want it, or something?"  Other professors found Miss Mathony's bluntness unnerving, but Filius was used to it, and it did not phase him.
"You know, Miss Mathony, there is a possibility that despite favoring his own House, Professor Snape considers you  the most talented Potions student, and desires to mentor you......."

"I don't know if you are aware of this, but he doesn't actually speak to me.  Like I know Professor Sprout told you before hand I was offered an Herbology Apprenticeship, but she did ask me herself."

"We will speak more of this later.  Right now, I just wanted your thoughts if you wanted the Apprenticeship, and it seems that you do, so I will accept on your behalf.  Later this evening, we will discuss Professor Snape's expectations for communications, and the formality this relationship will require.  But for starters, do be aware, that one of your Slytherin classmates will be joining you." 

"Thank you, Professor."

+++

Sylvia and Rahael had a favorite climbing tree, about 1/2 a kilometer beyond Hagrid's hut, that they had discovered in the Spring of their second year.  It had great places to sit, and enough foliage had grown in for good camouflage, and as the rest of the school was frantically searching for the youngest of the Weasley family, the two of them snuck away for a good climb, finally perching themselves on their favorite branches.

"Have we even been here since OWLS?
"no.  We didn't come last year, there was no time.....so - apprenticeship  -" Raph motioned his "spill the beans" move.

"Yeah.  With Selwyn.  Not Rosier.  I don't think either of them particularly WANT to do it - it is so much extra work.....but apparently he doesn't just take one female student, so here we are....there is a list of rules, and they are intense..."

"Such as"  

Sylvia pulled out a sheet of parchment and began reading.

"First of all, just to set the tone, we are to address him as "Master" when he first enters....

"Master?"
"Yes, then we may call him 'sir'  We must be completely ready for instruction, with all materials out, and ready to go - he is not to be kept waiting.  When he enters the room, we must stand, and greet him.  See Master."

"How about "your Royal Arse-ness...."

"Then, when the time has concluded, he formally dismisses us, and we stand again as he leaves....."

"Are you to curtsey as well...."

"No." as if this had been a legitimate question.  "it says here to incline your head in a small bow...."

"You are not serious."
"I am.  Or at least that is what the parchment says.  I doubt it is a joke, seeing as Professor Flitwick gave it to me, looking very tired.  Also, next item, I am not allowed to discuss my apprenticeship with anyone, except my Head of House, and then only to give general information on how it is proceeding - if Professor Flitwick has more extensive questions, he is to be referred to Professor Snape.....I guess we are not even supposed to be having this discussion...."

"That sounds a little ominous Sylvie.  I hope you speak up if he like - mistreats you or anything...."

"He is not allowed to be alone in a room with me, apparently - except for office hours - and then only for 15 minutes, twice a month, the door must remain open, in a non- secluded area,  and a distance of 2 meters must be maintained.....I cannot approach him about my apprenticeship except for the designated times.....I am pretty sure the overall message is - we are not mates."

Raphael laughed out loud.  "I don't think anyone was in danger of thinking that would be the case...."

"Moving on - attire.  It says here I will be issued a specific, apprentice robe to wear.  I put it on when I get to the brewing room.  I cannot wear it in the hallways, or other common areas.  I also must wear it to appear before him during office time."

"So now there is a Snape specific dress code."

"I feel both honored and insulted at the same time.  It's like these instructions were written assuming an over fawning female version of  Weasley was going to be attending.....I doubt Selwyn needs to be told not to try to chat him up in the Great Hall at breakfast and attempt to walk to class with him.."

"Now that would be a sight.  Speaking of female Weasleys, I wonder if they found her yet....."

"I hope she is not dead," Sylvia sighed.  "Not just for her sake - I'm afraid there will be no apprenticeship at all.  What are you going to focus on next year, assuming we come back?"

"Well, I don't have an apprenticeship, in the formal sense.  However, Professor McGonagall has offered me some advanced projects, studying ways to affect the length of time an object is transformed."

"That sounds interesting.  Are animals going to be involved?"  this was a sticky subject with Sylvia.   She had been absolutely horrified by some of the lessons.  He never forgot the look she gave McGonagall when the class was asked to vanish mice in 5th year.  She was never good at transfiguration, but for this lesson, she just pretended to try, and Professor McGonagall, sensing something was off, looked unsettled.

Weasley excelled at the spell, and was assigned to work on a kitten.  Sylvia's face had darkened further.

"Maybe we can all try cats next," she said, meaningfully.  Professor McGonagall looked up sharply, and swept over to the table.

"If there is a problem, Miss Mathony, please express yourself directly.  This behavior is not becoming.  State your concern."

Sylvia did not flinch.

"Where do vanished things go?" she asked in a low, deadly voice.

There was an uncomfortable silence.  

"Into........nothingness.  Nonbeing." Sylvia answered for her.  She picked up her mouse, who sat patiently in her hand, helpfully peering its little head to look at Professor McGonagall.  The older witch sighed, and turned a quill from her desk into a mouse, and handed it to Sylvia.

"Very well, vanish this mouse."  It was really a quill, not a mouse.  Sylvia quietly did as she was asked, and although her incantation and wand movement was less than fluid, the quill-mouse vanished.

"I will also expect 12 inches of parchment on the technique of vanishing a live animal."

"Yes Ma'am," Sylvia responded blankly.

So, Raphael was not completely certain how to answer her question.

"There is a time limit on how long an animal can remain transformed into an inanimate object....."

"That time limit should be zero," Sylvia protested.

"There are times where animals are in danger, and transfiguration saves lives," Raphael  pointed out.  Or we are in danger - and -"

"We can just vanish them into nothingness.  No thanks.  A stunning spell would work just as well."

"Anyway, I'm sure the animal issue will come up.  I will handle it as it does.  One option is a banishing, instead of vanishing spell.  That way, it will just go to another location and - "

"Sorry," Sylvia said slowly.  "I'm ruining this for you.  Congratulations.  You have really worked hard in that class, and McGonagall is a tough teacher.  I don't like her, but you don't like Professor Snape, so - you know that's just how it is.  It is an impressive accomplishment."

"Thank you for saying so.  And then there are the animal based potion ingredients...."  Raphael pointed out.

"There are.  And many, I can only imagine, were obtained by unsavory means.  But I don't think Professor Snape kills animals when he has other options."

"Why do you think that?"

"Posy got detention once in 3rd year.  She was late to class.  Anyway, when she went, he made them disembowel toads - a favorite detention activity of his.  But the toads were commercially obtained.  He himself was procuring rats' tails.  He used live rats, and regenerated their tails afterwards.  He fed them some potion, I dunno, maybe it was like skel-gro for rats.  I mean, it's still kind of messed up, but -"

"What do you plan on doing?"

"I will use the Potion ingredients supplied, when I do not have my own, for the time being.  But that is part of why I want to do Apothecary procurement.  I won't have to procure anything I don't want to, in a way that I think is unethical

"I wish you luck," Raphael said softly, wondering why Syliva showed less concern for people than she did rats being made into Potions ingredients.  "I hope everything works out for you...."

+++++

Perspective of Cassie Selwyn

When Professor Snape asked to meet with me privately, that definitely raised an eyebrow.  Our Head of House guarded my reputation fiercely, and set the standard personally.  He did not spend time alone with female students.  Period.  There was a lesson in me in this as well.  I should not expect to comply when a private audience with a man was requested.  Particularly one in authority over me.

So I went, knowing that there would be a safeguard of some sort.  The door to his office would be left open, which it was.  Julia was usually my chaperone, and I hers.  But she was not a part of this conversation.  So instead the 7th year girls' prefect had been brought in, and sat a distance away, buffered by a Muffliato charm.

I was seated, and offered tea by an ancient male house elf, which I accepted.  It would give me something to do with my hands.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Selwyn.  We are here to discuss the plan for Potions next year."

That was a surprise.  Julia and I had already been called in for our schedules, and we were both slated for 7th year Potions.  I had no idea if anyone else would be joining us.  

"Sir?"

"I am offering you an apprenticeship."

I admit, I was confused.  Why only me, and not Julia?  We did not have identical talents, but we were on par.  We worked well together.  Julia was........smarter, I guess.  Better at predicting what would happen.  I was more organized, and better at assembling multiple pieces of information.

"That is........very kind of you, sir."

"Kind has nothing to do with it.  You have earned it.  Would you like to proceed?"

"May I ask........"

"Why not Miss Rosier?"

"Well, yes."

"To be honest, I would not take more than two.  And although this is not at all common knowledge, and I would greatly appreciate you not repeating this, but, both of you were edged out by a higher scoring classmate."

"Breckenridge or Mathony?"  those were the only two I could think of that would have a chance.

"Miss Mathony."

Oh.  He would not take Mathony alone, that was the problem.  He needed one of us..............

"Why do I have the feeling I am being asked to be Miss Mathony's chaperone?"

"That's only part of it........"

"What is the other part?  Did I win the sickle toss?"

"There was no sickle toss.  You are both excellent students, and I would welcome either of you equally, that is true.  But I had to consider who would most benefit from this opportunity."

There it was.  We were dancing around the uncomfortable fact that my family was wealthy mostly in name, and keeping up appearances.   The plan for my future was a very favorable marriage.  That was the only way to keep the illusion going.  One of the reasons I had been so irritated years ago with Annabel Ikes, whose association put that in jeopardy.  I decided to be direct.

"Do you believe a Potions apprenticeship somehow help me gain a favorable marriage?"

"It could help.  I take so few students.  Some Potions are very hard to get, and require discretion.  Having a wife, or in law who is an accomplished brewer is an asset.  But beyond that.................Miss Selwyn.  This is insurance of sorts.  It is a bargaining chip.  If you were to be treated badly, in a marriage your parents arranged, you would need a way out, a way to support yourself.  I am offering you a skill set.  I hope you never need it.  But just having the option will encourage a spouse to treat you better, knowing you can leave........"

I admit I was speechless.  No one had ever stated so plainly the precarious position I was in.  I looked up at Professors Snape's face and was both touched and worried at the look of genuine compassion and concern.   Did anyone else know - know that he was even capable of such an expression?  It was unnerving that my situation could elicit -- I did not realize it was that bad, until he spelled it out.  Suddenly, I was glad Julia was not there.

"Very well, sir.  Thank you again."

"I will owl you the particulars.....there are different rules, and a formality that goes with an apprenticeship."

"I will look for your owl....Mathony?  She must have played her cards very close to her chest."

Professor Snape almost smiled.  "Indeed.  She refused to allow me to even guess at her talents for years......but this term she was forced to show her hand, in order to submit functioning samples.  You will need to keep an eye on her."

I pondered this back in my dorm room.  Why had Mathony been so secretive, even with Professor Snape?  In hindsight, she was one of very few talented students who did not seem eager to prove herself.  THAT must have caught his attention.  I was always intrigued by people who were willing to play a long game.  I wondered if Mathony just thought to herself "OK, you don't want to hear it?  Fine, then I won't tell you," and just went about her business, with her barely there answers with a tag of "sir" on the rare occasion she was called on in class.  To me, this was the ultimate power move.  And she looked........like nothing.  She was tall, and this last year had stretched out without filling out, resembling an overgrown bowtruckle.  She had angular, pointed features, wiry dark brown hair.  Someone one would just.........ignore.  Fascinating.   The apprenticeship had its merit, and observing Sylvia Mathony was going to be one of them.

The first 7th year Potions class was held in the afternoon on September 3rd, which was a Friday.  The class would likely be an introduction of the syllabus and an explanation of expectations, as there would not be much time to start before the weekend.  All of the students correctly guessed this meant they would be assigned quite a bit of homework. 

The class was not held in the main Potions classroom, but a small one, accessed by a crooked hallway across the hall, and down 4 rickety stairs.  It looked like it led to some sort of broom cupboard.  The girls carefully picked their way down it, single file, and Julia, who was first knocked softly and they all were surprised to hear Professor Snape's voice respond.

"Enter."

The door led into a much smaller classroom, with only one work station that could accommodate 4 students.  Behind them were shelves with cauldrons of different materials, including bronze, porcelain, silver, and some sort of stone.  There were also stirring and chopping instruments of various sorts, and a large cupboard of ingredients, smaller amounts of better quality that had been set aside for the advanced students.  In a commanding space in the front of the classroom was the teacher's desk, where their Professor was already seated.  This was quite a different dynamic.  His usual method involved having the class wait for him with dread, and make a dramatic swooping entrance.  The expression on his face now was not friendly, but it did appear more neutral.  His students relaxed slightly.

Sylvia recovered first, and remembered her manners.

"Good afternoon, Sir,"  she said, tilting her head in submission.  Not ingratiating herself, nor showing off, or responding hoping to avoid a correction, just a bland acknowledgement of protocol, if for no other reason than to help keep everyone moving.

"Good afternoon, Professor," her classmates hastily added.

"Good afternoon ladies.  If you are quite done gawking please be seated."

The two Slytherins sat next to each other on one side of the table, and Sylvia took her seat on the other side.

"Welcome to 7th year Potions.  Now, as happy as it is to have finally culled the herd of all of the dunderheads, there will be no relaxing in this class.  We finally have the luxury of being able to pace the syllabus to make the most of your collective potential.  The course work will be more challenging than ever, and there is much to cover.  On top of that, 2 of you have Potions apprenticeships.  If you have not already done so, it is time to bid adieu to any free time you might have had in the past."

He paused dramatically.  The Slytherins did look slightly panicked, particularly Miss Selwyn, who would be sharing the apprenticeship slot with the ever elusive Miss Mathony, and without the buffer of her more gregarious counterpart.   At the time she had agreed to it, she reasoned having Severus Snape in her debt may come in handy at some point in her life, and now she looked like she was reconsidering.

"It is too late to drop either this class, or the apprenticeship, Miss Selwyn," her Head of House said briskly.  "Now, you may be aware that no one really earned an "O" grade last year.  Are there any ideas why that is so?"  Sylvia wondered if that meant the "O" she received was unearned.  "Miss Rosier?"

"The book did not provide complete recipes, and we had to figure out how to adjust them.  We tried, but for many of the Potions, this was difficult to figure out."

"Indeed.  As the year unfolded you discovered a number of variables that affect the quality and efficacy of the assigned Potions.  Proficiency in Potions is dependent on proficiency in a variety of subjects including Herbology, Magical Creatures,  Astronomy, History of Magic as it pertains to Potions, and Arithmancy.  Just to name a few.  It is impossible to know everything.  You all come into this class with different strengths, and you will be dependent on each other to collaborate and share information, otherwise, you have no chance of keeping up."

The two Slytherins focused their eyes on their Professor, and did not react.  They are not good at this, their teacher thought privately.  He was certain they had parsed together they had an unspoken assignment to observe Sylvia, and gather information about - not her personally, but where she was getting her knowledge.  Knowing they were not supposed to let on they knew this, they both froze and shut down, instead of adapting more neutral body language, and act more like their smug selves.  Clearly, he was not close to done acting as their Head of House.  Miss Mathony glanced over at her classmates with mild curiosity, probably wondering why she was not receiving subtle indications the pair of them planned on interacting with her only as much as necessary, and her academic prowess was not going to warrant a more cordial relationship.

"There will be several - delicate potions that you will be learning this term that require absolute discretion, among them, Polyjuice, Versitaserum, Invisibility Potion, Amortentia, Dreamless Sleep, to name a few.  All of these potions have the ability to be exploited, and there are strict ministry guidelines surrounding many of them.  We will be learning the legalities surrounding the potions before brewing.  We will be learning how to procure specific ingredients, particularly those related to magical creatures.  You will not advertise what potions you are learning to make.  You will decline to assist your schoolmates in learning how to make them.  You will not make these potions for others, until you have graduated, and then only through legal means.  Any deviation from these instructions will result in immediate expulsion from this class.  Any deviation after graduation will result in a removal of any letters of recommendation.   Is that understood?"  He queried each student in turn, who all answered "yes, sir."

After this introduction, copies of the class syllabus floated around the room, appearing as blank parchment.  "Password is Aureum Conjuctionem"   The students tapped their wands to the parchment, Miss Rosier was foolish enough to start to murmur the word....

"Non-verbally...." their professor spat.  "The print will only be visible for 10 minutes, then it will fade.  You will need to say the password again to reactivate it.  Now, the homework is listed, and as you can see, you will be busy this weekend.  Your first essay on rare ingredients for restricted potions will be due on Monday...."

"In return for your efforts, you will receive more specific instruction.  We will discussing ways to determine how to adjust a recipe, when to add or subtract stirs, when ingredients should be modified.  The amount of an ingredient may need to be increased or decreased based on method of procurement, how it was stored, and how long it has been since the ingredient was harvested.  We will cover all of this, and much more.  By the time you graduate, you should be able to give an educated guess as to how to maximize any potion recipe....."

The apprenticeship class met in yet another room, next to the 7th year Potions classroom, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Sylvia was focusing on medicinal potions, and Cassie had chosen obscure specialty potions.   They were responsible for setting up their own labs, pretermining the ingredients, and storing them, obtaining the necessary supplies, and basically writing their own textbooks, as well as completing a list of written texts and resources.  There was a formality and protocol for every interaction, and they now had access to Master Snape's limited office hours.  Instructions for how to prepare and conduct oneself during these office hours were explicitly stated.   There were implied multiple reasons, the first one to avoid the cardinal sin of wasting his time.  A close second was avoiding even a tiny whiff of familiarity, or impropriety.  A third was to make the apprentices get used to  thinking carefully, research, anticipate problems, and avoid errors or lab mishaps. 

Cassie and Sylvia had both received instructions to start the theoretical work for their apprenticeship research projects over the summer, and both had done so.  The assignment was not to invent a new potion, but to enhance an existing one in some fashion.  Cassie was working on a combination calming and focusing potion.  The problem with calming potions in general was that they tended to have a blunting or mild sedating effect.  Sometimes one needed to be calm so they could think more clearly about an urgent or pressing issue.  So Cassie was planning on trying to neutralize some of the side effects with a focusing potion.  Sylvia was enhancing a potion meant to treat nerve pain, in this case, by regenerating the damaged nerves.  She had spent 6 weeks of her summer in the Realm's outpost in the Amazon Forest, and had collected many medicinal plants, which were now growing in the greenhouse on the Mathony property.  It was shaping up to be a very full year.

++++

Professor Snape office hours for advanced students are twice a month. Sylvia was allowed the 15 minutes at the end of the lunch hour on the 1st and 3rd Tuesday of the month.  Cassie was given the 15 minutes before his first class starts the 1st and 3rd Monday, and as Julia was not in Apprentice status, she received the 15 minutes before 1st class on the 2nd Wednesday, in 6 out of the 10 months of the school year.  This is quite a bit less than most professors.  Professor Flitwick, for example, also hds 2 apprentice students (unlike Professor Snape however, he accepted 2 every year), and they were each allotted an hour most weeks.

So one have to be very deliberate in how the time is used.  Sylvia sometimes felt a bit anxious, needing to come up with the exact strategic questions that would get the most information out of the limited time.  Too long of a pause, or conversely, if she (gods forbid) babbled on, she would be dismissed with a sneer.  If she were to ask questions that suggested she was unprepared, she would forfeit her next appointment.  In other words, do NOT waste his time. 

As instructed, she had come up with her apprentice project over the summer, combining 2 medicinal potions, one to decrease pain, and one to speed healing.  By the beginning of August, Sylvia had successfully combined the potions.  Neither binding agent worked with the other potion, and it took a while to figure it out.  Finally, she ended up with basic apothecary honey.  Sometimes the simplest answers are the best.  It was slightly annoying to present this base potion to Professor Snape during her first office time, as the answer was so basic, it did not look like she had put much thought into it.   The project was to determine if the method of ingredient procurement affected the potency of the potion. Sylvia had considered six different ingredients for testing.

Professor Snape had approved the project with a bare minimum of interest.  Sylvia was able to establish the base potion worked as intended  after it was approved by Madame Pomphrey, when a 3rd year Ravenclaw sustained a hand injury from a Biting Snapdragon.  During the first precious moments of her office time, she outlined out which ingredients she planned on using in the experiment, and which ingredients she did not think would be worth delving into further, based on past experiences.  The professor  surveyed the notes that had been duplicated for him with his usual blank expression.  Sylvia very carefully calculated the approximate amount of time it would take him to assimilate the information and speak, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze at this moment.

"What is your end goal?" without preamble.  So they were getting right to it, then.

"The Cruciatus Curse."

"And putting the current need for a treatment for this curse aside for the moment, as well as how on Earth you would test your product, why a combination of both potions? Why not just concentrate on a pain relief potion?"

"I believe the Cruciatus Curse causes actual early nerve damage, sir, not simply nerve pain."  At the present time, nerve damage was not diagnosed until fairly late in the game.  Many exposures, or prolonged exposure.  Sylvia was hoping to heal the damage before it could be picked up by a medical diagnostic spell.

His brow furrowed briefly, for a split second.  So quick, Sylvia might have missed it she had not been paying attention.  Communicating with Professor Snape takes a lot of concentration.  But soon his expression turned back to a sneer.

"Has it occurred to you that wizarding medicine would have diagnosed this if that were true?"

"It has."  Sylvia did not elaborate.  The obvious follow up would be that wizarding medicine had missed subtle, earlier signs.  But Professor Snape could connect those dots without assistance.

"I realize that I may not be able to test the potion for this specific purpose for many years, sir, hopefully it would not be needed at all.  I believe it has many other applications, however." she left it there.  It would never do to over explain.  

"I will approve this project.  Honey is no longer popular as a binding agent, but not your worst option."  That meant there was likely a better option she hadn't considered, and he was not going to tell her what it was.  Honey would work, but he was suggesting it may become cumbersome.  However, he did not want her to get bogged down on binding agents right away, especially if she needed to add more ingredients later.  Honey would work for most things, and then could be fine tuned.

"In addition, I am assigning reading - wait here."  He disappeared through his office floo, and returned a few moments later with an old worn book with a fascinating cover.  It was not decorated, but seemed to have parchment preserved somehow in wax, similar to the parchment that Sylvia made in her home world to store dried plants.  As he thumbed through the text, it appeared the pages had been sealed somehow with a clear, waxy substance to protect them.  "Chapter 11."  he finally pronounced without comment.  The text appeared to be in Welsh, although an earlier form than Sylvia was familiar with.  She was mostly fluent in the modern form of the language, but this several hundred year old writing was going to need to be translated.

"You are dismissed." Leaving Sylvia to figure out what she was to glean from this assignment, and how that factored into the progress he would expect in two weeks time.  But being allowed access to one of his personal texts was unheard of.  She would need to study it secretly, copy what was needed, and return it to him as soon as possible.  Despite his lukewarm verbal approval, this was his way of providing strong encouragement and support.  Support she would probably not be allowed to ever mention to anyone.

Although Ravenclaw had a bright, airy common room, but this was deceptive at first glance.  There were many little hidden study areas, some seating a few people, some with room for only one. Sylvia climbed a narrow winding staircase to her favorite, which came with a large cushioned seated swing of sorts, with and a bookshelf. A specific spell that would summon any text currently available in the Ravenclaw Library. And finally, there was a desk with parchment, ink, quills, etc.  After sealing the entrance, Sylvia took the ancient text, and settled into the swing, lighting the hanging lanterns with a wave of her wand.  Although the pages had been preserved well, ink was blotted in odd places, and language archaic.

The title of the book translated roughly into something about hidden light.  Professor Snape had emphasized Chapter 11, which made no sense, because it looks like there were no chapters to be had, it was a bound collection of writings, followed by recipes, presumably for potions.  However, after some searching, Sylvia realized that the book was divided after publication into 14 sections.

After counting to the eleventh section, she found a potion meant suppress the Cruciatus Curse - or at least the worst of it -  IF taken ahead of time.  

The book, apparently, was written to explain the process of preventing Dark Magic from taking hold by ingesting Potions ahead of time.

The idea was intriguing, but had the obvious disadvantage of needing to foreknowledge of WHICH curse one might be subjected to.  Sylvia wondered if there might be a strategic advantage to not letting on to the curse caster that their spell did not have the desired effect.  So, one would still have to ACT like they were in excruciating pain.   Otherwise, they might just switch to another spell.

The potion itself was vague, just a list of ingredients with ratios, and columns of pictures of the moon.  After some digging, Sylvia found a reference table that explained the stirs corresponding to moon phases.  It did not mention astrology at all.  She was not sure how the ingredients would have been procured and stored in the 13th Century, which was probably about when the book was written.  It would take a lot of detective work to make the potion functional, and then there would be the problem that there was no ethical way to practice it. Nonetheless, the ingredients could be researched as to which ones would prevent nerve damage and treat nerve pain. 

Had Professor Snape ever tried to make the potion?  Had he used it during his time with the Dark One?  Questions Sylvia could never ask.

The first task would be to try to actually make the potion successfully, before adjusting it in her own brew.   This was going to be quite complicated.  For example, the bare bones recipe did not specify what kind of cauldron to use.  That meant that the potion could likely be brewed in whatever the common type of cauldron use of the day, and Sylvia had no idea what that was.  Nor did she know what the potion would be stored in after it was made, or the ingredients themselves would have been preserved before use during that time period.  So many variables she needed to determine before she could even attempt the potion. At the end of the last school year the Arithmancy class had spent some time studying models for pracedicere praeterita, a method to attempt to predict what had happened in the past, based on what is known in the present, and sometimes adding what was predicted for the future.  It was extremely complex, and Sylvia had only started grasping the rudiments.  They were to continue the concepts again this year.   Perhaps she could use one of these models to figure out the unknowns of how the potions was made.  Of course, this would need to be done  without Professor Vector's help, unless Sylvia invented a dummy project with similar variables, and never mentioned Professor Snape's book or ancient potion.  7th year had just become much, much more complicated.  

There was nothing to do but summon her copy of Connections - Understanding Variables in the Fullness of Time:  An Advanced Guide to Arithmancy, and started charting a course.   She also made a mental note to schedule some office time with Professors Binns for his take on Medieval potion methods, and settled in for yet another very long night.

"You realize there is not going to be a good way to test this.......not legally anyway."

"I understand, sir."

"There is controlled animal testing......however -"

"No."  Miss Mathony uncharacteristically.

"Speaking of animals," the Potion's Master said pointedly.  "The recipe calls for the yacquet of the Hairless Inca Ground Cat...." The yacquet was the name of an organ unique to this animal.

"An animal hard to come by.  You find one, take its life, and harvest the yacquet.  You use it in a potion attempt.  Now you need another.  This is not acceptable."

"How are you harvesting?"

"The Ground Cat has vanishing habitats in the Amazon Forest.  I have access to a sanctuary of sorts.  The yacquet secretes a pain blocking substance, and that is the primary ingredient for the potion.  It is possible to harvest an acceptable amount of this secretion without causing damage.  In exchange, the Ground Cats receive a safe habitat.  I can safely harvest once every two moon cycles, per cat.  I have 6."

"And the Boomslang skin?" this seemed like a good time to throw that in.

"There is a healthy population of Boomslang there as well."

A major piece of her life was being glossed over. Professor Snape had looked up her file.  Her father worked for the Ministry of Magic, in an unspecified role.  Her mother taught graduate level charms, and ran in academic circles.  The family, which included a much younger brother, lived quietly in a villiage in Wales.  It did not paint a picture of gallivanting around the Amazon Forest.  But whatever it was that provided Miss Mathony with such unique opportunities and experiences was not really relevant to her project, and the last thing he wanted to do was ask personal questions.   Not ever, but most specifically not during a one on one office visit.  The door to his office remained open, with the threat of 2nd year dunderheads arriving at any moment.  This was quite on purpose, as he was not in the habit of secluding himself behind a closed door with a female student.

"I am having difficulty figuring out how the yacquet would have been preserved while waiting to be a potion ingredient.  I tried drying it out.  Then salting it.  There were no stasis spells back then.....I also tried using it directly after harvest...."

"And what WAS available in that time period, and very basic ingredient you yourself re-discovered......"

"Oh."

"On, indeed.  How did you prepare the other ingredients?"
"I dried the plants.  That was the likely the way." 

 But honey was a very old remedy, and this is one of the few things that has changed little over the centuries, down to the species of magical bees used almost exclusively for healing potions.  It would bind to the secretion inside the yacquet, and not only preserve, but enhance it.   Professor Snape allowed a moment or two for Miss Mathony put the pieces together.

He was actually impressed, not that he would say so aloud.   He had made the potion with fresh ingredients, and adjusted stirs and amounts accordingly, and had used a different binding agent altogether. He had tried honey, but it did not work as well as the agent he eventually settled on.   Now it was evident  it needed to bind to the yacquet secretions first.  One of the reasons he gave Miss Mathony so little direction was it was interesting to see her thought process.  It was likely her next version of the potion would be close to the original intention, and then she could work on incorporating it into the other one she was concocting.  In the end, she would present two samples, one formally for a grade, without the ancient potion imbedded, and a second presented  privately.  The second one would be squirreled away for a hopefully never needed rainy day, along with a more precise recipe that could be taken ahead of time.  Professor Snape was relieved she had sourced the yacquet so neatly.  That had been a sticking point to making any quantity of the preventative potion.  It was only made in very small batches, as Hairless Inca Ground Cats were extremely difficult to breed in captivity, and diminishing in numbers.  After she had perfected the potion, she could stock up on ingredients.

"I think that will be all for today, Miss Mathony.  I will expect another sample in two weeks time, with the modification we discussed."

"Yes, Master of Potions.  Thank you for your time." She fulfilled the protocol of the small formal bow and took her leave. Professor Snape stared at the space from which she had vanished, lost in thought, until the noisy chaotic arrival of his second year class broke his focus.

"What have you here?"
"Adder Forks, sir.  And Moonstone."

"Adder's Forks are in short supply - where did you come by them?  These are on the small side."

"These are from a batch of snakelets, stunned, tongues harvested, then regenerated."  It would be easier to regenerate the tongue of a snakelet, not to mention quicker.  Not for the first time, Professor Snape wondered how and where exactly this student spent her holidays to get access to such choice ingredients.

"What is your hypothesis?"

"The person who ingests the end potion, will tell the truth, but be tightlipped, not really revealing much information.  It will mimic a person that has some skill in resisting Veritaserum."  

One question just led to more, and the Potions Master took a moment to consider.  He was not going to ask more questions, just the one to himself if he should allow this experiment to continue.  The fact Miss Mathony was adjusting several variables at once suggested that she had already adjusted some of them privately, likely over the summer.  There was nothing remarkable about the Knobnell feathers, other than they were newer and somewhat smaller than the school supply, suggesting they had been gathered within the last 6 months or so from younger birds.  The moonstone was ground so it was harder to tell what kind it was, perhaps rainbow......if so that would improve the mental clarity of the person ingesting the brew.  At any rate, had she discovered that newer ingredients, both fresher, and from younger animals resulted in less "truth telling" as it were?  A fine tuned potion, just enough truth for the potion to appear effective, but the potential to be able to keep some of the essential information from enemy ears.  If it had been a different student, Snape would doubt they had put in the ground work to advance the experiment to this stage, but he suspected Miss Mathony had spent part of her summer break practicing brewing Versitaserum.  He had to admit to himself, the idea of a truth potion that was just correctedly made enough to be convincing but ultimately ineffective was intriguing.

"This was not the assignment," he said sternly to Miss Mathony, who looked as unconcerned as ever in failure to garner his approval.  "The assignment is to brew Veritaserum as written, and produce a standard brew."

"Yes sir," Miss Mathony responded respectfully.  

"Since you seem so eager to conduct unauthorized experiments during my class time, you will continue this version, and you will provide me with a make up session at 8 pm this evening to produce your actual assignment, during detention.  I will mark the assigned potion only, Miss Mathony, and since you are not brewing it during this class time, I will mark it as late."  Well, this was a little on the ridiculous side, as the brew matured by the moon cycle, they would both be complete at the same time.  He could not miss a fleeting expression of mild relief before her features once again portrayed detached respect.  Well, at least he maintained some sort of illusion of authority, while still seeing the results of her experiment.  As he turned heel, and billowed back to his desk he caught the barely concealed smirks of the Slytherin peanut gallery, both of whom had been absorbing the dressing down of their classmate with great interest.  They were not fooled, but would keep up appearances.  He suppressed a sigh.

The problem with detention with Sylvia was that it left him alone in a potions lab with a talented older female student after hours.  Professor Snape would not tolerate even a whiff of impropriety.  He now had just a few hours to find another student to join the detention roster.  Fortunately, his next class was the 3rd year Gryffindors and Slytherins.  Surely, an opportunity to assign a detention would present itself.

****

I personally was delighted to reach 6th year and escape compulsory classes with the Great Dungeon Bat, but Sylvie, who seemed to have a knack for potions, elected to continue.  Being her lab partner was the only way I had even made through 5th year, and even if I had received an invitation (which I definitely had not) I would not have pushed my luck.  But I was doing NEWTS in Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against Dark Arts, and Ancient Ruins.  Sylvie had Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, Charms and Arithmancy.

And then 7th year rolled around, and she actually did a Potions NEWT apprenticeship.  I can't imagine how often those are even dolled out.  Selwyn from Slytherin was the only other person to get one, and for many years, nobody was thus honored.

++++

The potion apprentices met with their Master at the beginning of May.   The small meeting was held for the last time, almost with ceremony, in the general Potions classroom.  As had been the case for years 1-6, Sylvia and Cassie were obliged to sit at attention at one of the desks and "wait for the Great Billowing Entrance, for old times' sake" Cassie snickered.  Not even Sylvia kept a straight face when her classmate imitated the dramatics.

The relationship between Master and Apprentices were more formal, and both young women stood respectfully as their professor and mentor entered, responding to the stilted "Good afternoon, Ladies" before re-seating themselves.

"I am returning your research papers with notes.  As we have been discussing your projects for many months now, none of my feedback should be a surprise.  The marking on this research paper will be added to your Hogwarts transcript as your Apprentice Completion Status.  There are four options, Not Successful, and if you were at risk for that, you never would have been offered an apprenticeship.  Successful Completion.  Again, if you strived for this level I would not have been interested in investing my time.   Next is Completion with Honor, and finally we have Completion with High Honor."  he regarded his apprentices with a dramatic pause before continuing.

"Being able to brew some of the potions you have studied these past year demands discretion, not bragging rights.  As such, it would be unwise to advertise your Leaving status to anyone who does not need to know this information.  And it is much more advantageous in the long run to minimize other's understanding of your accomplishments.  In other words, it is fine to lie when pressed.  If you finished with Honor, for example, hint at a Successful Completion.  This will help prevent your knowledge from being exploited by those with concerning intentions, and prevent you from being harrassed by those with self serving agendas.  There will be no mention of your status, or even your apprenticeships at the Academic Award Ceremony.  If there is ever a specific opportunity you need a reference for, please reach out to me directly."  It was obvious this last sentence was being aimed more towards Sylvia, as Cassie's pureblood future was already written out for her, and did not include employment.  However, as Professor Snape would never speak to Sylvia about such a matter privately, Cassie had to endure this little speech as well.  She also understood that out of the 2 remaining options for Completion Status, Sylvia had High Honors, and she herself was likely leaving with Honors.  She was not at Sylvia's level and she knew it.  However, she was now able to brew several restricted potions, which she would do discreetly for others in her pureblood circle if such an occasion arose where it would be advantageous to her.

When Professor Snape handed the research summaries back to both young women, the markings did not show on the front page, and both of his apprentices resisted the urge to peek, instead carefully putting their papers away in their book bags, to be examined in private.  They both knew that out of the remarks, Cassie's would be less scathing, and more graciously polite, and Sylvia would be more heavily corrected.  Privately, the professor knew his Ravenclaw protege would benefit the most from feedback, whereas Cassie had pretty much peaked in terms of ability.  There was no need to upset Miss Selwyn's parents, her father in particular by pointing this out.  Truly, she had only earned a Successful Completion as far as Potions went, but her flawless classroom presence made it possible to provide needed instruction to Miss Mathony.  Miss Selwyn had put in a lot of effort for very little personal gain, and her marks were adjusted accordingly.  He owed her a debt of gratitude that would never be fully acknowledged, and they both knew it.  Completion with Honor was really the least he could do, along with making suggestions for her research project earlier in the year to justify the higher marking.

"Your apprenticeship is now concluded, a few weeks early, so you can focus on your NEWTS.  Your apprenticeship completion with Honors or High Honors stands in place of a NEWT, so assuming you received one of those marks, you will have one less exam to worry about (both students were unable to completely contain their glee.)  If you wish to observe the tradition of a formal Leaving, I will make myself available for a brief time before the End of Year Feast for 7th Years.  That will be all, Ladies."  In unison, Sylvia and Cassie rose, and thanked their Master, ending with a small respectful bow as he billowed from the room, one last time.

A few weeks into the school year, which I admit was a bit of a blur, Severus kept myself and Pomona behind after a staff meeting to announce that Sylvia Mathony would be returning to the castle to assist with the brewing of "delicate" brews for the Ministry, growing needed ingredients, as well as aiding in stocking the infirmary.  Miss Mathony kept largely to herself, but it was obvious he felt she needed protection.  This was surprising, given how coldly he had treated her when she was his student.  Her immense talent and knowledge for Potion ingredients did not result in any kind of real mentoring, let alone kindness that I could see.

But Sylvia Mathony did not live for the admiration of others.  She never showed off.  She never kept her talent as any kind of secret weapon, as a Slytherin would, she just seemed above it all, occupying a world and working towards goals the rest of us could not see.  As her time at Hogwarts wore on, and she grew, both academically and physically it became more and more evident there was literal other world she was a part of.  Pomona suspected this as well.  A Dryad perhaps?  We didn't talk about our suspicions to any one else, and seldom to each other.  Obviously, it was a secret, and the one time I had mentioned the it, Sylvia had been very reluctant to even acknowledge to her dual identity. During her time at Hogwarts, she clearly considered the matter none of anyone's business.

When she returned to the castle, she seemed to have grown a little more into her own skin.  A bit more graceful than gangly, she was able to subtly blend into the very walls of the castle when she was doing patrols, which she was assigned along with the rest of the faculty.  She was clearly more at ease with her body, and with her magic, performing many spells effortlessly, and without having to pause to concentrate. She still did not open up much, but it did feel like we had more of a tiny peek into parts of her life.  l

Sylvia, now not in school uniform, was frequently dressed in luxury second hand witches' robes, some of these suited her, and others did not.  Regardless, she donned them like a costume, instead of clothing that was personal to her,   She wore the prettiest ones occasionally to take tea with a few of the professors.  She seldom ate in the Great Hall, but there was not really a place for her there - not at the faculty table, and not among the students.  Very occasionally, a place was set at the very edges of the head table, close to Poppy or Madame Pince.  But she kept her head down, so to speak.

I was somewhat worried for her.  She had no real peers.  She had limited access to the other professors - really just tea twice a week or so, and whatever shifts she pulled in the infirmary.  She appeared to be spending her time performing assigned tasks, as opposed to any kind of development, and she did not seem have access to the professionals from her mastery.  I heard three of her academic circle were under investigation.  One for being related to muggles, I'm guessing the second for questioning too openly why certain ingredients were suddenly very hard to come by, and the third one, I'm am not sure.  It was a shame, because she had not yet had a chance to begin to make  to make significant contributions.  Through the grapevine, Pomona had heard rumors that her department head was associated, or at least playing nice with the new regime. I could see a strong case for why Severus was suddenly so protective, and restricted outside access to her company. But it was not good for her. She should have been living in a flat, with others her own age, building her career.

Tea was generally with myself, and Pomona.  We felt the smaller the audience would increase the chance Miss Mathony might be inclined to share information.  She was most engaged with Septima, but the two of them would spend hours discussing Arithmancy models, which was not a topic others were generally interested in.  Poppy was another favorite faculty member, but anything she would say to Poppy in confidence she would not say in front of others, and Poppy would never repeat it, so we kept it to the three of us.  I needed to have one buffer person to help carry the conversation, in case Miss Mathony ran out of things to say, which was a frequent pitfall of conversing with her.

"Have you found enough to fill your time?"  I asked her after the first round of pleasantries had been dispensed.  We were meeting today in her sitting room, and Miss Mathony was presiding over the tea service as if she had received very specific instructions on what to do.  She appeared to be trying to perform the steps as if they were laid out like a potions recipe.

"More than enough," she nodded.  "I could attend the greenhouses all morning, then brew the rest of the day and well into the night, with no days off, and not be close to being caught up."

"What are you brewing these days, Miss Mathony," Pomona asked her.

"Without getting too specific, the normal delicate potions one might expect the Ministry to want stocks of, as well as keeping the infirmary stocked.   The....er.....current regime had previously relied on our Headmaster for such things, but of course, he is rather preoccupied these days.  And Professor Slughurn's schedule is full as well, although he does assist from time to time." 

"Are you providing them ALL?" Pomona asked incredulously.

"As fast as I can make them," she sounded evasive.  "It is never near enough."  She offered the first round of savories, taking a smaller one for herself after we had chosen.  It was like Severus had instructed her to serve tea to her former professors in the manner of a pureblood household, written out instructions like she was still in class, and then walked away, as he normally did with no feedback, leaving her to figure it out.  I watched her doctor her tea with just a splash of milk, again, after making sure we had everything we needed.  It was hard not to laugh.  

"Do you have any free time?"

"The Headmaster has filled any extra time with castle rounds." she nodded again, her tone of voice neutral. "I also have shifts in the infirmary."  She paused, seeming to remember she was to ask us a question in return as part of the tea service hostess.

"The school seems a bit tense.  How are the classes going?"

"The students do have trouble focusing," I acknowledged.  It takes nearly half of class time to get them focused and engaged in the lesson."

"On the other hand, it is nice not to have students throwing dirt, and trying to mess with each others earmuffs," Pomona contributed.  That earned a small smile.

"Why are there earmuffs?"

"For repotting the baby mandrakes, second year." Miss Mathony explained.  "When I was in that class, one of the Slytherin upperclassmen had bewitched Marcus Flint's earmuffs to call out bizarre instructions, such as to sing the Mandrake baby to sleep, while rocking it in his arms.....oh course he could not figure out no one else in the class was receiving these instructions."

Severus and Sylvia met for tea the following Sunday.  It was the one day a week the Headmaster had no official duties, and he let the staff know he was indisposed.

Affy laid out the tea service in the way it would be presented in a pure blood home.  There was an impressive arrangement of pastries, both sweet and savory, in addition to a beautiful bone china teapot, cups and saucers, with all the usual trimmings.

Despite the tempting display Sylvia was expected to take only 2.  One after the tea had been poured, and he had been offered his pick, and one if the conversation stalled, to indicate she wished to continue.  The first savory, the second could be a sweet, but not one of the more decadent ones.

Sylvia poured tea for him after dismissing Affy, seemingly without magic, but the tea pot would have been lightened by Affy,  so she could do so with ease.  She gestured towards the pastries, and he indicated a carmelized onion tart, which she served him.  She then took a smaller cheese croissant for herself, to indicate he could begin.

"Did you receive my availability for the patrol schedule?"

"I did.  I have you on both Wednesday and Friday nights, from 3 am to 5.  Of course you may take Saturday off, but I'm afraid I can't spare you on Thursday, at least not until after 2 pm.  I also will require the deliveries of Versitaserum for the ministry, as soon as they are ready.  They are going through a shocking amount."

"Very well.  Speaking of Versitaserum, I used a few drops of loose lips on a fourth year Hufflepuff when I did an infirmary shift.  I think, from his description, your missing students are using the come and go room - are you familiar with it?"

"Yes." Snape did not elaborate that the room had spilled its secret to him in his own 4th year, when he was trying to escape being bullied.  "I considered this possibility.  It makes sense."  They paused to sip tea and take small bites of food .  The savories were delicious, but they were both supposed to act as though they were offered such treats so often that any temptation to tuck in was replaced by polite boredom.  For Sylvia, her appetite had been replaced by the panic of her former professor turned love interest's possible reaction to demands of her heritage.  Discussing their now shared role in protecting the students on the down low, she was deflecting the real reason they needed to speak.  She paused to gather herself.

"I am going to need a weekend to gather ingredients.  I know you are worried about the safety of me doing this, but I have access to our Realm, which includes forests protected from even the knowledge of humankind.  I will need to replenish stocks for several of the potions, and bring in more seedlings.  Everything is getting hard to just purchase."

"I see."

"After we discuss what we need to discuss -  if it is agreeable to you - I would like you to join me."

"That sounds enchanting.  However, I cannot really leave school for an entire weekend."

"Perhaps leave on Saturday early evening, and return Sunday afternoon.  If you wish to be in a relationship with me,it is not a step I am at liberty to skip."

"Do you wish to show me the land of your heritage, or are you compelled to bring me there."

"Both."

"How soon must this take place."

"Before we - go any further."

"I think you need to just explain your situation.  With our mutual desire for brevity set to the side for the occasion," Snape replied finally after an uncomfortable silence.

"Everything and everyone in the Realm is connected.  It is referred to as being "part of the circle".  Plants, animals, trees, elves, sprites, dryads, fairies.  The first issue is I cannot, well, connect myself to what has not been vetted by the Elders."

"Yet, they know of me."

"yes.  That is not the same as meeting you.  They accept that you are a person in my life, and I have gone to you in a time of need.  Understand, I could have disappeared into the Realm, if my life was in danger, and been safe.  I came in case you needed me.  Needed an ally."

What little color there was in Snape's hard, angular face drained as those words sunk in.

"the second issue you must absolutely understand before you agree to further this relationship is that the population of Woodland Elves has been in danger of extinction.  The process by which our population replenishes is complicated.  Our Realm has not always been so protected and hidden.  But three to four hundred years ago, humankind was destroying the forests at a rapid rate.  A lot of our kind perished during that time, when the trees died, so did we.   Almost too late, we closed off our forests and lands from the rest of the wizarding worlds.   Those elves that were left became inbred over several generations which led to its own issues.  Finally, a young female elf crossed back into the Wizarding Realm, and took a human mate, which helped the gene pool somewhat.  There was a lot of worry about how the half elfling would do - but that turned out to not be an issue.  They learned that if part of the Realm, and connected, Elf genes are quite strong, and it did not take much Elf DNA to dominate.  However, if not connected, the domination is not activated, and dies off quickly.   So more and more select humans have been bred in, so to speak, and it is helping strengthen our numbers - and the health of our forests.   And this is the part where you would be affected, if you wish to continue."

It was obvious she was leading up to a turning point of sorts.  There was nothing left to do but continue and hear her out.

"I am bound to the forest and to protect it.  Part of that protection is continuing my race, so that the Woodland Elves can continue to protect the forest.  I am bound by duty to bear at least one child, and have already put this off long past the time most female Woodland Elves would have become mothers.  Because my father had a genetic disease, and I carry this gene, having a child with a human would add back in robust DNA for our gene pool.  My choices are to either get pregnant, and not mention this to a partner, then disappear back into the Realm with the baby, or to have a more traditional loving relationship, and parent a child with the understanding that he or she will be connected the the Realm, and discretion is mandatory.   I have no idea if you would even want to be a parent, that is not exactly a first date question, but it seems wrong to withhold this information, so here we are."

Another long silence.  Sylvia tried as she had so many times before to read the expression on Snape's face.  This time, she could not.  The frozen statue look, completely undecipherable.  Finally to bide some time, he asked her:

"That seems quite rushed for you.  21 years old?"

"I just turned 22."  November 2nd.  Now he remembered.

"22."

"they have made adjustments for this expectation.  I would receive a LOT of support to continue any education or career advancements I wish to.  Child care.   A place to live.  They have a ton of investment in early childhood.  They have gone to great lengths to make it less stressful, and more rewarding."

"Would they at least see the advantage of waiting until the end of the war?  I am not exactly available right now for such an endeavor."

"I'm just relieved you have not concluded this tea party, and found yourself urgently needed elsewhere."

"Your general intrigue has prevented that from happening."

"Well to answer your question, it would depend on how long the war is expected to last.  I think they would still want at least a pregnancy in 2 years."

They regarded each other carefully.  Snape could tell the young woman was quite nervous, and for good reason.  Forced parenthood?  He had never been in a position where he could seriously consider reproducing, and had not put much thought into whether or not he even had the ability to parent.  And with the still socially immature and introverted Sylvia as his co-parent.  Well, perhaps with mentorship....  But that still didn't answer the question as to if he remotely wanted to.

"I must admit, Sylvia, never in my life have I even been in a position to be able to raise a child,  I have never really given the matter much thought."

It was the first time he had called her by her given name.  His voice gave the syllables a rich tone.  It calmed her.  He might choose not to continue the relationship, but he didn't automatically hate her for the news.  Even if he did not choose to continue the relationship, it would break her heart if he broke off contact with her altogether.

"Although the Dark Lord seems to have some sort of plan for me to marry someone in the society, so to speak, to continue his own Realm.  Of course, I would not bring a child into that particular situation."

"What would you want if the Light loses?"

"There will be an end point to my involvement, regardless of the outcome." Professor Snape looked resolute.  "If my role here is no longer serving its purpose, I will go undercover.  I have a specific job right now.  I will see it through.  If it is not successful.................." his voice trailed off, his expression turning back to empty.  Pointedly, Sylvia took some bits of her food.  She wanted the conversation to continue.  After yet another long silence Snape continued in a rather empty voice.

"on the other hand, for all practical purposes I have no family left."

"You are in an impossible position.  If you started a family rooted in the Light, those around you are not going to understand your role, and the contempt may seep into your family.  For obvious reasons you do not want to raise a family among Death Eaters.  I do think, my own feelings aside, that it is worth considering a community of people who do not question your integrity, and do not condone evil.  If you decide you are interested in being a father, that is."

"How would YOU feel, being married to me, and the social stigma that may come with that, in the wizarding world?"  It felt weird to be discussing marriage and children, when they did not even have a romantic relationship yet, but the questions were too important to ignore.  They were both serious, intentional people.

"It doesn't bother me as much as it might someone else.  My sense of connection is not dependent on the wizarding world.  It might be harder for my parents.  But they have lives based on academics.  Expectations are not what they are in "high society".  I am hoping, eventually, your name will be cleared."

"I see that as doubtful."

"I wouldn't be so sure.  You are too focused on McGonagall.   Not all the professors agree with her.  I know Filius strongly suspects your true allience, but is keeping quiet so you are more likely to be successful.  Paloma is skeptical, even more so after you recalled me to the castle.  Septima is driving herself insane back running Arithmancy calculations and she cannot make them work out unless you are not a Death Eater villain.  And Madam Pomphrey - she keeps track of all the injuries, obviously.  She is starting to get very suspicious you are hiding something.  She is certain you are protecting students from the Carrows - I heard her whispering with Septima - but not sure about the rest of it.  She also suspects Dumbledore's injury with his hand was a fatal curse.  These are the type of people that will have influence on other academics my parents care about.  There may be continued political fallout.  Politics don't necessarily match reality.  But not everyone is likely to believe you are or were an evil Death Eater forever."  Sylvia turned back to her pastry, and took the last little bite.

"What exactly is the process?" Snape asked, trying to get a handle on exactly what he was agreeing to.

"You would come back with me and meet the Elders.  They would lay out the expectations, and you would agree to them.  We would date for an agreed upon period of time for you to decide if you would be willing to have a child with us, to be a part of us.  At this point we have known each other for years, kept in loose contact, and then spent quite a bit of time together in the last few months.  So this time frame would not be long.  We would then decide if we were going to move forward. Although this does not necessarily mean a wedding.  Marriage is not really a concept in the Realm.  Speaking of which,"  She was going to need to make this next part crystal clear.  " Woodland Elves do not practice an exclusive mating relationship.  It is common for the females to raise young children in groups, and the men are not exclusive.  That is NOT the lifestyle I want.  I would desire the traditional relationship you are already familiar with."

"so there are no established couples?"

"Those that chose an exclusive partner are either former royalty, which is rare, or part of the wizarding world in some way."

"So we would not be obliged to get married right off the bat?  That's a relief."

"no.  But we are expected to be working on a decision.  Serious candidates only and all of that."

"What if we do not present, and wait and do it later?"

"The rule for you to be considered is I must do this before there is any significant level of physical intimacy.  I am not completely sure why, I have just been told it cuts down on poor decision making"

"They probably don't want hormones deciding who or who not may be an appropriate member of their Realm." mused Snape.

"Yes, there are no such rules should I choose someone already connected.  There are not the same morality type issues that come up in Pureblood society."

"Would we be expected to live there?"

"As much as possible while a child is small.  But you can come and go.  My parents have a home on the edge of the Realm, and I access it through the backyard.  I am hoping a similar type set up, eventually.  I do not want to live there full time."  There was a silence, while Snape assimilated all of this information.

"I obviously have some thinking to do," he said finally.  "These are life choices I never dreamed would be mine to make."  he paused and added, somewhat awkwardly, "I have grown to care for you, very much."

"And I you, as well.  I do not want to push you into a life that would make you miserable."

Snape thought privately that however tedious parenthood might be, it would have to be a step up from his current situation.  That was not a great mindset to begin such an endeavor, so he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"I will let you know if I decide to proceed.  Rather soon, within a few days."  He didn't want her waiting in agony, and he could tell how nervous she was, opening up about her world and its expectations.

Sylvia simply nodded.  There was nothing else to say at that point.  

He surprised himself by not declining immediately, on principle if nothing else.  The shock of such a bold and direct conversation had somehow pushed aside his normal defense system.  Children.........for the most part, he detested them, as students.  Of course he received them at age 11, at which point certain annoying habits were formed, and although he was allowed to correct classroom behavior, and grade their work, he was not really able to provide the necessary feedback to influence them into not being general dunderheads.  What if he was allowed to start at the beginning, with more control?

The problem with having one's own small children was that they never really went away.  There was giving them back to their parents for the summer, or dismissing them after dinner to dormitories and common rooms, under the supervision of prefects.  .  

On the other hand, the thought of having family he did not have to defend himself to - who just accepted him at face value was surprisingly enticing.  It was not just the lure of having people surrounding him that did not think he was an evil murderer, it was also the allowance not to be some sort of saint.  Surely, Sylvia didn't think he was that.  She knew him well enough by now.  And she was no saint herself.  She would fight evil, yes, but the goodness in her was directed towards protecting the Earth, and respect for it's creatures.  She was not overly sentimental, she was not the type of person to take in strays, or to uplift the downtrodden.  She was discreet, kept her nose down, and was very selective about with whom she kept company, comfortable being alone rather than tolerate irritating people.  Severus wanted the freedom to avoid tiresome people and pursue his own interests every bit as much as he wanted not to be seen as a potential serial killer.  A family, ONE child, perhaps two, that sounded manageable.  He wasn't getting any younger.  Pushing 40 was not a terrible age to become a father, if he ever wanted such a thing, this would be the time to do it.  He did pause at the idea of the war possibly ending, and going right from that to having a young child, instead of just taking some time for himself, but it looked like they would have a fair amount of assistance, if needed.  If a life goal was both an accepting low key family, and solitude when needed, this was likely as good as it was going to get.   Everything but the timing sounded ideal.

He had to admit to himself he was falling in love with Sylvia.  And as difficult and intrusive as the conversation was, he would rather know this information up front, than find it out later, after he was more invested.  There were so very, very few people he felt compatible with.   Those he may have been able to tolerate living with likely would have been unhappy with the overall isolation being with him would have likely entailed.  There was a possibility the situation was feasible.

The information about the lack of exclusive relationships among the Woodland Elves was interesting.  It was almost more like animals in nature.  It seemed that while the social group as a whole was very important, fathers had less individual influence and importance.  While that was not what Sylvia wanted (nor did he, for that matter), it made him less terrified of screwing up.  If he died, or the wizarding world continued under the Dark Lord's rule, the child could still have a good life in the Realm.

However, they had not really discussed the possibility he would not survive the war.  This needed to be addressed.

+++

He came back to her room through the floo on Wednesday evening, around ten, intending to speak to her before they started rounds.  She was trying to grab a small cat nap, and he woke her up.

After she had rubbed the sleep from her eyes, smiling briefly at him, he called for a strong cup of tea, which Affy delivered.

"I think we might consider it," he told her softly.  "IF, your elders will agree to any child bearing to take place after the war, or not to attempt for a year and a half, whichever comes first.  Second, at this time, I only agree to one child.  I want to see how that goes, and how we adjust to parenthood before agreeing to more.  I doubt I will agree to more than 2.  Third, and this is the issue that gives me the most hesitation, I am concerned I will not survive this war....."

"The last point, we need to discuss more.  Given how the Dark One has been killing off people, I have been brewing an antivenom..."

"For Nagini?  I mean, it's possible, but there are so many other ways it could happen.  Most likely the killing curse."

"Severus."  the use of his first name made them both still.  Given his previous authority over her, it was a big leap.  "There is one thing you need to understand.  I wasn't going to bring it up, because you are not going to like the idea, but I guarantee the Elders will mention it, so you should at least know ahead of time."

"I'm listening."

"If I am with child, it is like a light magic version of a horcrux.  Until the child is born, and separates from me, it is a part of you that is alive in me.  It will be a lot harder for you to die.  Your life will be tethered to it."

"No."

"I'm not suggesting it.  You are not the type of person to create an infant for your own personal physical gain.  But if you bring all of this up, be prepared to hear this.  Also, until I have borne a child, any form of contraception for me would likely not be effective, we are evolved so strongly to procreate.  However, if you produce a potion for male contraceptive, it should work just fine, as you are not Elven. But you are going to have to take that on."

"Noted.  Very well.  We will go on Saturday."  The words were said gravely, in his usual somewhat flat tone.  But Sylvia's heart skipped a beat.  The relationship was going forward.  The intensity of the moment began to build and envelope them as they both allowed the protective layer that surrounded whatever part of their brains that received and projected affection to thaw.  They were not able to completely even look at each other.  Finally, in lieu of appropriate eye contact, and to acknowledge what was taking place, Sylvia held out her hands, and Severus took them, finding it easier to stare at her hands wrapped up in his than do anything else.  For long moments they simply grounded themselves in one another.  It felt raw, tender, and highly unfamiliar.

+++

Two days before visiting the Realm for the first time, Severus considered the logistics of any upcoming intimacy.

Intercourse was likely.  They had privacy in the Headmaster's quarters, of course, but a lot of distractions to be in a headspace for any kind of romance.  Mostly, he appreciated Sylvia's non precious approach, while she was mildly flustered to bring up the subject of birth control, she did not wait until it was a pressing matter to express her needs.  Severus was grateful that she was straight forward, and he did not have to guess what she was thinking.  Even the procreation requirement, dispite being a delicate subject, was explained clearly, after he had expressed interest, but before a relationship had advanced.  He appreciated having information he needed in a timely fashion, with clarity.  He disliked receiving tedius bits of information he had already figured out.  Having someone babble on telling him what he already knew without getting to the point was extremely irritating to him.

Then there was the whole drama surrounding having an intimate relationship with someone that likely was a virgin.  Well, it didn't look like that was going to be as tedious as it might be for a different witch.  Certainly a pureblood, or near pureblood witch would have a lot trepidation, anxiety, and anticipation.  He would not have to pretend that nothing was taking place before a wedding.  It would never be discussed directly. Sylvia seemed more........matter a fact about it all.  At least willing and able to have a rational frank discussion.   He didn't sense any underlying shame.  All of her anxiety seemed centered around her heritage, and concern that he would be able to accept the expectations that came with it.  Once that was dealt with, sex was just a natural progression of two adults in a committed relationship.  He would not have to dance around wondering how much was too soon.  She was clear she was expecting this progression, and cleanly passed the quaffle.  After he met with the elders, he was free to proceed.    It seemed to be every young horny Slytherin's dream to have clear communication of when they were allowed to ........indulge.   He was fully planning on reaping the benefits of dating someone more mature, and confident in what she wanted, without the usual angst and hangups.

Severus kept replaying the conversation in his head.  The feeling of his hands enveloping hers - he had never touched another person in such a manner.  No amount of less fortunate purebred coaching could hide the reality of her hands - calloused.  Hardworking.  They were hands that spent a fair amount of time in the soil, fingers toughened from stirring, chopping, cutting.  Hands that told a story of hours of quiet sacrifice.  Slightly cool, like the blood didn't quite reach the end of her long fingers.
He did allow himself to rest just a few moments.  Rest in the knowledge that he was not completely alone, that someone else knew, that another soul was truly on his side. 

Trust.  It is a feeling of security in another person he had experienced only a few fleeting years in childhood.  Lily.  But even then, he did not completely trust her affection, nor her judgement in others.  Nor did she trust him.   But he trusted Sylvia was not going to be swayed by someone who on the surface appeared ........more.  She saw through appearances at every turn.  And she did not just believe he had not killed Albus in cold blood, that there had been an arrangement to make it appear so.  She knew.  Really knew.  Complete security in another person's understanding of his motives.  Who knew when his flaws were an act, and was not swayed, nor did she care, about public opinion.  And knew his flaws as a human being, as a teacher, were very, very real, and offered her affection regardless.  With actual acceptance.  There was something enduring about it that felt very comforting.  And it had been so many years before anything had felt remotely comforting.
And now, a demand for a child, a family, permanence.  Something Severus never in a million years could have seen myself contemplating so readily.  Thoughts of a child had always been dismissed out of hand.  Could he ever have imagined being handed this specific set of circumstances? - a partner he felt compatible with who accepted his weaknesses, and knew his loyalties?   A partner who was intellectually brilliant, who didn't need endless chatter.  An entire separate world this hypothetical child could be whisked off to if the one they were inhabiting came too dangerous, or unbearable.  Suddenly, the possibility of a family was within reach.
So much of their communication was without words.  he had been so cold towards her for so long, she had learned to read the most microscopic fleeting facial movements, the slightest changes in posture, and any deviation in the tone, pitch or rhythm of his voice.  As a student, she knew when she was on the expected course, when she was in danger of making a mistake, when she had managed to surprise him with her problem solving, and when she was trying something clever that he knew was not likely to work.  She knew he wanted her to think for herself, that pieces of information she had been given needed to be compiled and applied.  Over the course of her apprenticeship, she became adept at reducing a mystery in brewing to its core elements, and asking well placed questions.  She never felt the need to explain herself, but moved with a quiet confidence, as if his input as a teacher had merit, but his opinion of her didn't matter.
By largely ignoring her so long as a student, what he had effectively done was create this person who was able to read him, and was not reliant on verbal communication.  In addition, he had inadvertently trained her to rely on her own talents for affirmations - and not him..  The irony was that the number of times he had pushed her away had eventually molded her into his desired romantic partner.
The subject of wizarding contraception is a somewhat tricky one, in that it is not an open topic of conversation.  Having to guess which of his male Slytherin students would need such prodding was the source of never ending annoyance.  The young ladies of Slytherin were fortunately educated on the matter by someone other than himself, and he did not worry about any of them falling pregnant.  Having a witch from one of the other houses impregnated by a Slytherin, however, was a definite concern, and most of the young men seldom wanted to admit to shagging a member of a rival (and presumed inferior) House.

So when a somewhat flustered Sylvia suggested that he take responsibility for any upcoming intimate situation, she need not have worried. He  lectured sternly to the male members of his house from their fourth year onwards not to leave responsibility to the witch in question, and had plenty of the necessary on hand.    Keeping the potion regularly stocked in the dormitories with an auto-replenishing spell for privacy cut down on the number of tedious conversations, and the prefects were supposed to be intervening as well.  Still, Severus had to deduce who might be falling through the cracks.  Or not taking the potion regularly.  The recipe that was the most reliable, shelf stable, and easily produced just lasted 13 days after ingesting it, so they had to remember to take it in a timely manner.  For this he had to enlist the assistance of the house elves.  Notting was specifically assigned to the Slytherin male dorms. Severus was quite used to addressing the subject in a matter of fact manner, and had already planned on taking the potion if the relationship progressed into the physical realm.

To be honest, he was a little relieved she did not seem to have much experience, not because he would have thought less of her, but because he himself, while not a virgin, was still quite a novice.  One thing he had not done, was kiss anyone.  He knew that Sylvia had, with  Haigh.  He had been kept informed of their relationship by the House Elf assigned to the Slytherin male dorms, as Haigh was not current on his contraceptive potion, and he was known to play dangerously close to the line of needing it.  Severus had no romantic interest in Sylvia at the time, but it did bother him that she might get taken advantage of - Haigh was a player, although not in the light of day, so most of the student body was unware of this.  It was not uncommon for a young lady to become distraught at the realization that she had been.....used.......without the setting of genuine affection,  Severus was quite tired of dealing with the whinging that followed.  The well bred Slytherin girls steered clear, but other young ladies were less savvy. Haigh had moved on to the other Houses.  Severus suspected he was drawn to Sylvia due to her discretion, thinking she would be unlikely to complain to anyone.   Of course, Haigh was unaware there was a house elf spying on him.  He was correct that Sylvia would never had spoken up, certainly not to the Slytherin Head of House.  However, he miscalculated said HOH's obligitory interest in his sex life.  It also didn't help his case that Severus was also invested in Sylvia Mathony's academics, and would be quite displeased by any undo distractions. 

In the end, the house elf, Notting, hid the dose of contraceptive in Haigh's morning tea, but it was unnecessary.  Three days later, the elf appeared in Snape's private quarters, and after the obligatory bowing and scraping announced that "Master Haigh, and Miss Mathony have parted company."

"Indeed?"  The potions master asked, with mild interest.  

"Miss Mathony thought, perhaps, they could deepen their friendship before Master Snape's potion would be needed, but Master Haigh thought they could do both in tandem," Notting mentioned, delicately.  "They were unable to reach any sort of agreement or compramise.  Master Haigh was most anxious to -"

"Thank you, Notting, that will do."  Severus returned to a stack of 4th year essays on common antidotes he had been grading, his interest dissolving, but not without a new sliver of respect for Miss Mathony.  He assumed that was the end of it - that Miss Mathony had discovered her new love interest was not worthy of her attention.  The truth, he discovered during the next 7th year Potions class, was a bit more complicated.  Miss Mathony was uncharacteristicly distracted, and seemed a little......sad.  Her Slytherin classmates were attempting unsuccessfully to cover for this, as the small class brewed an antidote for Versitaserum, they used various methods to keep her on track, and minimize mistakes.  Potions takes an enormous amount of concentration.  Even small issues, like excessive classroom noise, or being a bit physically uncomfortable can result in lapse of attention to detail.  Despite her peer's efforts, Miss Mathony had to restart her antidote half way through the class.  Severus pretended not to notice.  He supposed it was a bit unsettling to realize a person you were growing to care about was only interested in another notch on his belt, but Miss Mathony's 7th year schedule was packed, and she did not exactly have time for romance. He hoped it would all blow over quickly.  Which it did, after one subtle well placed intervention.

And now, here he was, setting aside a dose of his own potion for himself, and contemplating his own dating life with none other than his once favorite student.  Yes, he had to admit that now.  And circling back to the uncomfortable fact that he did not really know how to kiss...........well of course he had an idea.  After all, he had been interrupting amourous students for many years, shortly after finishing his own adolescence.  For a long time, he worked on consciously burying the memory of walking past James Potter and Lily, 7th year, in an unused corridor, on his way to meet some of his budding Death Eater friends -- he had gone into that meeting and agreed to meet the Dark Lord for the first time.

But that memory did not have the sting it normally did.  He felt a little foolish to be contemplating the same question that 4th year students were working out, such was the nature of some of his delayed adolescent development.  It occurred to him that in this circumstance, he could replace skill with authentic affection, and as long as the kiss was not prolonged to any extent, his lack of expertise would not be as obvious.  Haigh, he assumed, was quite good at kissing.  He did not want to set any stage for a competition.  He had more important things to offer that Haigh did not -  genuine affection, patience, and honorable intentions.  A kiss could convey all of those things, he reasoned.  It would more than make up for not being an expert in snogging.  Everything about Sylvia was a long game, waiting for what was most important.

He was almost looking forward to seeing Sylvia's ancestral home.  It would be good to get away from Hogwarts.  He wasn't exactly free to take her out on a date.  They must not be seen together for the time being, no one must know, for her own safety, so spending time in her Realm would hopefully be a good substitute.  They had never spent any time together outside the castle, nor were there plans to do so. 

  Notting still attended him; he would allow no one else.  And Affy was loyal.  Both  knew very well Sylvia was not fully human - elves could tell.  It created an interesting dynamic.  Affy would not have served Sylvia on her own, she only did so because Headmaster had ordered it.  Severus had to spell out that Affy was to follow any request Sylvia might make.  Only one time did she speak up.

"Sylvasaya of the Fae does not belong here, Master.  Master should give her leave to go back to her trees.  Sylvasaya is born to serve, yes, just like Affy, but she serves the trees.  Not wizards...."

"I am well aware of Miss Mathony's heritage, thank you Affy.  I believe Miss Mathony believes she can serve the trees best in the long run from here.  Please attend to her, and do not speak of the Fae.  They do not appreciate it."

In the end, an opportunity presented itself.  Sylvia decided she wanted to brief Severus more on the Realm itself, to explain some of its politics, inhabitants, and unspoken rules.  Severus responded by organizing a late dinner - nine thirty at night, at which point various students and faculty had generally stopped requesting his council, and he had less of a chance of being interrupted.  He had Notting serve it in his own private sitting room, which thankfully contained no portraits, and had Affy instruct her to floo directly there.  Notting was a bit less scandalized by the relationship, but it was highly unusual that a wizard would develop a romantic attachment to any sort of elf.

Severus had already noticed that Sylvia did not eat much meat, and he instructed Notting to make sure there were vegetarian options available, and the little elf nodded sagely.

"Young miss will not be wanting to dine on the creatures, Headmaster.  I will make sure to make her special dishes."

And the table was set accordingly.  Some of the dishes Severus did not recognize, but Sylvia seemed pleased when she arrived, and he gestured to the food.

"I'm starving, actually.  Of course I did not attend dinner in the Great Hall, since we were eating later, and I did not take tea this afternoon, either.  This looks quite delicious."

Severus did not spend a lot of time monitoring what Sylvia ate, but he had noticed when she did fill her plate, it was with non meat menu items.  Many times, she appeared to eat little, especially when there was extra stress.  Today, she happily indicated several courses, and Notting, blushing a little, served them to her.  Severus tried some of the things she seemed most enthusiastic about, including the one that most resembled a main meat course.

"What is this?" He asked her curiously.  It didn't taste like meat, exactly, but it was hardy, savory, and filling.

"I think it is some sort of nut loaf," Sylvia responded.  "How kind, Notting, to put all this together for me.  It is like the Feast for the beginning of the term, except specifically to my tastes.  Have you tried the yams yet?  I must ask how they are seasoned."  She turned to Notting, who was now blushing bright red, and he listed several spices.  Severus finally put the poor elf our of his misery, and dismissed him.  Notting bowed towards the Headmaster, and politely said goodbye to Sylvia and disappeared with a pop.

"It looks like you may have a new admirer, if you are not careful," Severus teased her.

"I know I should not have engaged him like that, but ............it's just much of the food at Hogwarts is not adjusted for my palate, or digestion.  I cannot tell you how nice it is -- he even made Welsh Onion cake.  I am not going to have room for all this food, and it actually pains me."

"The 7 years you were a student here......"

"I could not draw attention to having a mostly vegitarian diet.....it would have led to questions I could not answer.  There were some dishes I could eat, and the elves made sure they were placed at my elbow. I tried to make do with those."

"What meat do you eat?"

"It is not about some kinds of meat being OK, and other kinds not.  It is about the circumstances by which the animal was obtained.  Our society does keep farm animals, for eggs, milk, and cheese.  Mainly goats and chickens.   But we do not raise animals just to eat them.  However, sometimes animals will be offered to us.  The best example is a runt of a litter of wild boar.  The animal would otherwise be left to die, so it is not wasted.  Sometimes an injured animal is offered by a herd.   That sort of thing.  So we do not have meat regularly.  The forest is kept in balance without our interference.  We are tasked with making sure the populations of all the creatures that dwell within are healthy, and appropriately numbered.  If not, we look into why, and correct the situation."

"What else do the Woodland Elves do?"

"We have a division of roles based somewhat on gender.  I have mentioned children are raised by their mothers in a group setting.  There are generally about 6-8 mothers with their children, or women ready to become mothers living together.  They are supported by mature women, called aunties, that assist with child rearing.  The men are not included.   They live in their own groups.  At about age 9, boys are evaluated for which of these groups they will be integrated into, and assigned based on personality, skills, and where in their development they need the most support.  Introduction is gradual - at first, they may only spend a couple of hours with their new family.  Over the years, this increases and by 13 or 14, they become intolerable to live with in a family setting, and their mothers, or other females generally kick them out.  So they go to their male groups to live, frequently for the rest of their lives.  Occasionally, they will gravitate towards another group who will accept them, if it becomes a better fit.  Sometimes it is difficult to tell what group is most beneficial when a child is so young."

"That is fasinating.  So every male is raised, eventually, by a group of men, most suited to nuture their talents, and address their weaknesses."

"Yes.  That is a good summary."

"And if we have a son....."

"He will be assigned a group, both an initial family group that will help acclimate him to the Realm while I am working, with an Auntie acting in my role, and a group of men when he is nine, perhaps 8 because of Hogwarts.  At 11, he would go to Hogwarts, or perhaps another school in Europe if you would prefer, and spend concentrated time in the Realm during his holiday time.  He can make a decision to join the Realm full time if he wants."

"And a daughter?"

"I assume will be raised as I was.  It is complex.  At around age nine, girls are started on craftsmanship.  A lot of weaving is involved.  As I said, each gender is responsible for its own domain, and the women control the family magic.  Every piece of cloth, every swaddling for a baby, every woven hammock for a young child, every piece of clothing is woven with magic, and intentions.  They make dishes, pottery out of clay, and it is made with magic for a purpose as well.  Bowls for soup having heating elements to keep the food warm.  Dishes keep food from spoiling.  We do a lot of preserving of food for winter time, and those vessels keep the food fresh.  Furniture, made from fallen wood and cushions made from cloth and stuffing have specific magic in them as well.  The women do all of this.  They also make all of the medicines, and some of the elder women fuction in the capacity of Healers.  If we have a daughter, she will miss a lot of that.  A son would miss a lot of his courses as well, but it would be easier to catch up.  A daughter would not be able to.  She would be at a disadvantage.  There are jobs that she could do that do not take as much skill, but she would have less options, until she had gone through years of practice.

"What jobs?"

"Animal husbandry for food, and growing food.  And sheep, which we use for wool.   Which is also done with magic, but much easier to learn.  For example, we eat a fair amount of lentils - they are nutritious, filling and savory.  But they do not like the climate in Europe, particularly, so there is a fair amount of magic modification to get them to grow properly.  The nanny goats and their young need care, the billy goats need to be monitored to make sure they are not eating foods not set aside for them."

"Do the women farm and prepare all of the food?"
"No.  That job is divided by catagory.  It's about half and half.  So is contructing - each responsible for their own dwellings, and the women tend to have more space.  The men are largely responsible for maintaining the magic that protects the Realm and its inhabitants.  They are also intervene more with conflicts - because conflicts usually involve undo aggression of one species to another, taking more than an agreed on share of territory, for example.  The other species seem more likely to consider to cousel of the male elves, because more of the conflicts involve males,  so we leave them to it.  If a female view point is more advantagous, it is asked for.  Women do keep up relationships with mothers of other species and their young, to ensure their survival is not at risk.  In all of this, there are elders of both genders, fewer women, but no less important in status.  The elders are basically the governing body, and enforce the rules."

"Why fewer women?" Severus asked, curious.

"Fewer women are willing to do it," Sylvia confessed.  "They want to be left alone, when they reach their old age.  They desire more solitude.  Less drama."

"I can relate," Severus admitted.

They spent some more time discussing the social structure and expectations that came with being a Woodland Elf, what magic they used, and, Sylvia mentioned the painstaking process of learning how to intergrate Elven magic with wand magic, and how frustrating that was.  All too soon, the clock chimed 11:00, and the dinner dishes disappeared, replaced by an after dinner brandy, which they sipped slowly, in silence, to the sound of the crackling fire.  

"Well," said Severus finally, putting down his brandy glass.  "I have to patrol again in just" he glanced at the nearby grandfather clock "4 hours.   I'm going to have to end our evening here.  I look forward to seeing the Realm in person."

"Do you need assistance," Sylvia asked, putting down her glass as well.

"No.  I'd really like you to get some sleep, if you are able."

"Very well, I will see you tomorrow then?" Sylvia's voice held an note of expectant joy he had never heard before.  They both stood.

There was an uncertain silence. Severus considered. Now was the time for a brief goodnight kiss, a definitive gesture of romance, but with a tidy end point, and limited expectations. He wanted to convey confidence, but not be perceived as over eager, affectionate, but controlled and respectful. That was a lot to impart in a few moments, and he took a few beats to compose himself.

"May I kiss you good night?" he asked her, a bit formally. It was just going to feel a bit awkward, there was no way around it.
"You may," Sylvia responded. Severus stepped forward and tilted her chin towards him with long, gentle fingers. She really was the perfect height for him, he thought to himself as he brushed his lips over hers. She still tasted of fine brandy.
As he stepped back, she held his gaze, her expression one of wonder. She looked truly lovely, he decided, not in one of Narcissa's robes tonight, but simple linen floor length gown of midnight blue, and the Celtic Knot still hanging around her neck. Her hair was in a low bun, curls escaping here and there. He took his time drinking her in, and she again held out her hands, which he enveloped in his own.

"Goodnight," she whispered, and let go, turning towards the floo.

When Sylvia crossed over into the Realm, from an ancient yew tree on the Mathony's grounds, the sensation was like squeezing through a very tight space, a full body compression of sorts.  It was always slightly draining.  But the Forest welcomed her as it always had, a part of her very essence, and she easily picked her way through the trees, in a light misty, chilly rain.  The dark green cloak Professor Snape had secured for her still had excellent water repelling charms, even if the material was worn in places, in the Realm, such things hardly mattered.  She walked along briskly to the Elder's hut.  They would be alerted, by the forest itself that she was Home, and as she was not at all expected, they would know to go and meet her.  She would not have just dropped by.

Four of them, 2 male elders, 1 Elder (female) of the Mothers, and the 4th, a female medicinal elder were already waiting.  She almost smiled, they had covered all the bases, given they did not yet know why she was there.

"Welcome Home, Sylvasaya," Elder Sabien said formally.

Sylvia bowed slightly.  She was expected to get right to the point, and she did.

"I am bringing with me a male guest in a few days time, for your approval."

No one looked surprised.  

"Your former Potions Master," Mattera, the Elder of Mothers, spoke up.

"Yes."

"Have you told him of the expectations."
"I have, and he is not nearly as reluctant as I feared.  But there is a war looming, he is in charge of the welfare of hundreds of wizarding school children, who are in mortal danger every day, and he doesn't feel that this is the best time to become a father......."

"Surely, he can spare the time for a mating....."  Mattera said dryly.

Sylvia chuckled.  "Mating activity yes, parenting - no not now."

"Mattera looked baffled.  Sabien held up a hand.

"Sylvasaya plans for a more traditional wizarding family structure."

"Really?  And where will this elfling be?"

"A similar upbringing to the one I had," Sylvie told her.

"Why?"
"Because I would find life in a family group tedius.  I want to pursue an academic interest in the wizarding world."

"We will do what we need to for a healthy elfling for our genetic pool," Sabien said.  "We have learned that these issues tend to work themselves out over a few generations.  For example if she bears a male, he can perform mating duties, and then go back to the wizarding world, if that is his wish.  We have learned if we are too rigid, there are less genetically diverse elflings.  Well, Sylvasaya, we are eager to meet with Elder Snape.  When do you think he will be willing to assist in our efforts?"

"We agreed on 18 more months before a pregnancy is attempted, assuming that our courtship is proceeding agreeably."
"That is a long time for you - now your decision is made.  I don't think you understand......"
"I do.  He will be responsible for preventing the pregnancy."

"We will see how that works out for you," Sabien said smoothly.  There was no point in arguing.  He had a strong suspicion that an elfling would be gestating soon, without the need for discord.

The visit to meet with the Elders of the Realm started with the Mathony's  farm style home, on the edge of a wizarding villiage in Wales called Draig Wen.  In order to avoid detection, they used  the floo  from Severus' very modest  family home.  They were greeted by Sylvia's mother and stepfather; her 1/2 brother Llyr had been sent to a neighbor's for the evening.  "They owed us a favor.  We told them we had some family business to hash out."

Lowri and Aeron decided not to mention the whole Dark Wizard controlling Hogwarts resulting in Professor Snape trying to protect the students from torture.  That seemed too heavy a topic for conversation around drinks and snacks.  Instead, Lowri asked questions about the Potions Newt projects Sylvia had done.  The Professor eventually shared that he provided Sylvia with so little information and direction because he was fascinated with what she came up with.  Her corrections were different from his, and he was interested to see how she used different methods than he had to solve problems.  Hashing out ingredient quality was one of them he had not previously really explored in great depth. Neither had he put so much thought into the method and timing of harvest.   Another was running arithmancy calculations to get a better guess if something was going to work, a method he had used, but never fine tuned.  Especially the more advanced method of working backwards from what was known about the present to guess what had been true in the past.  This was a bit of a game changer for him, as many old Potions recipes were missing key pieces of information.

"I had to brush up on my Arithmancy after that, I started using that tool myself," he told them.  His ease in keeping up the conversation surprised Sylvia, and she realized just because she had not observed him in a close social situation did not mean he did not have such skills.  Well, he was friends with the Malfoy family, and probably associated with other pureblood Death Eaters.  That would require dinner party type banter.  After indulging Lowri with little tidbits of information he remembered about Sylvia's Newt and apprenticeship projects he directed the conversation towards Charms research, and asked her opinion about disguise charms, and how to lengthen their effectiveness.  He was adept at appearing engaged, and asking questions to keep her talking.  

The "meet and greet" lasted just over an hour, before Sylvia announced perhaps a little too abruptly they had to get going.

"next time," Severus told her as they headed out to the back garden, "when you are close to wanting to leave you need to send me some sort of signal.  I can work on winding the conversation more naturally."

"Right," sighed Sylvia.  

"It might be wise to decide how that might transpire now, before we get into another prolonged conversation."

"The Realm is not going to place the same sort of expectations on us.  This is a meeting with an agenda.  When the agenda items are fulfilled, we will be dismissed to our quarters, assuming all goes well."

"Nonetheless."

"If there is food served, I can place my napkin over my plate."  This was tea party rules, indicate one was done eating.

"in a social gathering, you can excuse yourself if you see someone you know well enough, and say something like, oh, there is Madame so and so, I have been hoping for a chance to say hello, or some such thing."

"Are we then trapped in a conversation with this Madame?"

"You can then inform Madame we just wanted to say hello for a moment," Severus explained. "on our way to something else."  He smiled affectionately at Sylvia's rather put out expression.

"It gets easier with practice." he tried to reassure her.

"Do you enjoy this?"

"If I am lucky, I am interested in about 10 percent of the discourse, and another 15 percent is information that it is advantageous that I know.  Some chatter is just idle banter, some are innocent appearing polite conversation that is imparting some sort of needed information.  So 75% of the evening is tedious,"

"It seems like there would be far less painful ways to indulge in interesting conversation."

"I must admit, at times the people watching is amusing, when you know what to look for.  And it gives context to much of the rest of my life."  He noticed at this point Sylvia had stopped walking, and they had been standing next to a large, ancient Yew tree.  It was getting dark, and Severus could not entirely make out the patterns on the bark.

"Well, perhaps we can wind down this conversation, because here we are."

"How do we enter?"

In answer, Sylvia lifted her hand to the bark, and it began to shift and transform.  Soon it looked like branches were emerging from her lower arm.  One of the branches grew outwards, smaller and thinner, and disappeared into the groves in the trunk.  At the sound of a high pitched sort of groan, Sylvia removed her hand, which transfigured back to its original form.  Part of the trunk separated, revealing a staircase of sorts.

"Lumos?" Sylvia suggested, and Severus nodded, and the tip of his wand illuminated their path.  She motioned for him to go ahead, and after they were both safely inside, the passage closed behind them.

There were more ancient Yews, stretching out into a forest.  The air smelled cool and moist, with moss and ferns, with a stillness that felt almost sacred.  As they stood on the threshold of a fairly narrow dirt path, leading into the trees, Sylvia's facial structure began to change, most notably her ears, which grew longer, upwards, then outwards from her dark hair, with pointed ends.  Her cheekbones and jaw line became more pronounced, her eyes with a slight slant.  Severus held the light up to see her a little better.  He thought the overall effect was eerily beautiful, as her features seemed more in harmony with each other, as opposed to fighting to look human.

"It suits you," was all he said, softly.  She smiled a bit, feeling suddenly shy.

"Come this way," was her reply, and she led him through the forest.

+++

Severus knew he would have some type of final vetting with the Realm's elders, but had not idea what, exactly, this would entail.  When they crossed over into the Yew forest, large trees with many reaching branches, intertwined, started to frame dwellings - elaborate tree houses, of remarkable craftmenship, that blended into the trees.  Many parts of these houses seemed open to air, and Sylvia explained they were magically heated, and warded from uninvited guests of any species, rain and blowing leaves, etc.  It was chilly, as it was at Hogwarts, but the trees did provide cover from the biting wind.  After they had walked perhaps 2 kilometers, they reached a free standing large round thatched hut, recessed into the ground.

"The elders are waiting to speak with you."

"Are you coming."

"No.  the door is there ---"

So far they had not seen anyone directly just shadows of the tree houses inhabitants as they went about their evening.  Severus had not realized that he would be asked to meet Woodland Elves for the first time without Sylvia at his side.  Belatedly, he wondered how much of Sylvia's personality and mannerisms she had in common with this part of her heritage, and how much was just - her.

The hut had a round door, made of a huge round deep reddish brown stone that magically rolled out of the way as Severus approached.  Stooping he stepped into a single large circular room, the walls adourned with woven clothes, rough tapestries of sorts, depicting forest scenes, centaurs, dryads, even a satyr.  The room was lit with torches; a low circular table was in the middle, and would likely accomodate about 20.  Presently, it was occupied by 4 older human like beings - 3 male, 1 female - with many of Sylvia's features.  The pointed ears, most notably, the course hair that curled behind them.  Long, lean, sharp jaw lines, long narrow hands, long fingers.  All of their eyes, Severus noted, were varying shades of brown, from dark chocolate colored to amber.  They were all seated on the ground, legs crossed, and did not rise.   The ceiling was a little low to stand comfortably.  There was a moment when they all just waited for Severus to acclaimate to his new surrounding before intruductions.  The woman spoke first.

"Welcome to the Realm, Severus Snape".  They were all dressed in neutral colors or some sort of cloth that looked similar to linen, simpler than wizarding robes, and less adorned.

Severus nodded in response.
"To whom do I have the honor of addressing?"

"I am Isyenia." She gestured towards the men.  "Elder Sabien.  Elder Paux Elder Corax."

"I'm honored to meet you," Severus responded, as it seemed some formality was in order.

"Please, sit....."

It had been a long time since Severus had sat on a floor in such a manner, but he did so.  The Elder introduced as Corax poured everyone a small wooden goblet of some sort of fairly viscous liquid and raised raised it.  Everyone else followed suit.  He toasted by saying something in a language Severus did not quite recognize, it sounded Welsh, but not quite.  Or maybe it was just the accent.

"We are here to discuss the possibility of adding your DNA to our gene pool," the elder introduced as Sabien stated. 

"I see Sylvia's personality trait of getting right to the point with no small talk may have a cultural base," Severus looked slightly amused, an emotion he was not used to feeling lately.

"Indeed.  Her name here is Sylvasaya, given to her by this community at her Welcoming."

"What language is spoken here?"

"A hogpog.  When we separated from Wales and the rest of Greater Britain, Middle Welsh was the language spoken.  In Wales, this language developed into what is now modern Welsh.  For us, it developed into a different diaglog, with some English thrown in, which is the tongue spoken by all here.  A fraction of the population speak English.  Sylvasaya's mother was able to develop a translation charm, to understand it better.  We will do the same for you."  Severus nodded.

"Before we get to that, however, there are some points that will need to be discussed......"

"I assume your version of the statue of secrecy," Severus nodded.

"That is a key requirement.  Wizards absolutely cannot stop meddling.  They cannot help themselves.  They understand nothing of the balance that nature demands.  They want everything to suit themselves.  We tried to co-exist peacefully, and it nearly destroyed us."

"I have no desire to expose you.  I am used to relaying no information about my personal life, so this will not be questioned."

"That is consistant with the information we know about you," Sabien nodded.  "How do you feel about the breeding requirement."

"I am not adverse to it," Severus told them.  "But in my culture, we do not breed a child, and leave it to the mother to raise.  Sylvia and I would raise a child together, in the same home, if we get that far.  And I have serious and pressing responsibilities at this time.  I am not available to pursue this - likely for another year at least."

"The Realm may demand its young before then."

"It may.  I would assume you would provide considerable assistance to Sylvia if I am unavailable to attend to parenting duties."

"Of course.  We plan on doing so at any rate.  A child of the Realm is a child of all of us." Isyenia said firmly.

"I may not survive this war," Severus continued.  "Sylvia - Sylvasaya as you call her - has an unusual interest and talent for arithmancy.  Is that inate to her species."

"we do not practice the craft in the way it is taught at your school - but yes.  We must predict what impact an action will have on others.  However, as you must know, it is not straight forward.  It can predict which of one's own actions can contribute to a desired outcome, but as much is influenced by the behavior of others, yet unknown,   So you can follow the best course arthimancy can offer, and if others make unexpected choices, you may still end up where you do not want to be."  Elder Sabien looked at Severus rather shrewdly.  "It appears whether or not you achieve your desired outcome is largely dependent on the actions 3 teenagers, who can be rather impulsive."

"Indeed," sighed Severus.

"Are you hoping we may somehow be able to give you a hint as to whether or not you relationship with Sylvasaya will affect the outcome of your efforts to fight the Dark?"

"I certainly don't want to make that situation worse than it already is."

"Did it ever occur to you, Elder Snape, that no one involved in this war is fighting it alone but you - regardless of what side they are on?  Except, perhaps for the Dark One?"

"To be honest, I have not the leisure nor the luxury to spend much time reflecting on this."

"Perhaps you should make time, if you are asking this question.  You will not find a more loyal, more discreet, and more intelligent ally.  And even the supposed 'Chosen One' has confidants that are assisting him.  Every indication in history tells us that we are stronger together than we are alone.  We look towards the past, as an important way of predicting the future, and that is one thing that remains constant."

"Do you believe the wizards and witches fighting the Dark Lord are Light?" Severus asked him.  "Sylvia does not seem to me much of a crusader.  Oh - she works hard to prevent torture and death but -- "

"An interesting question.  Thank you for not making assumptions, because the answer is 'no', not really.  Standing up TO the Dark One is an act of Light.  But wizards in general, this issue aside?  No.  We do not.  We see wizards in general as a group working only towards their own self interests, and not a common good of all.  They are not evil, for the most part, but that does not make them Light.  If they were Light, we would not be hidden.  But the sad truth is that their disregard for the well being of all forest and creatures is a key reason we must be hidden."

"May I ask why you would welcome to your Realm, given the complicated history you have with the wizarding race."

"The most pressing reason is that we will have no race at all if we are not flexible," Isyenia responded.  "And we have been studying you for quite a while now, first when you took Sylvasaya as an apprentice, and again when you recalled her to your castle.  We know you are fighting the Dark.  We know that you are very able to act without concerning yourself of others' opinions.  That is key.  We know you do no have....what do humans call it?  A bleeding heart?  The forest, nature, can seem cruel.  Animals eat each other.  For the most part, that is hard for humans to swallow.  You have the ability to mind your own business.  And, as you have pointed out, you are used to living among wizards without divulging much, if anything, of your personal life.  Another quality you are going to need."

"Beyond that, an excellent addition to our DNA pool, and at an age where you may be more amendable to having a child that Sylvia's contemporaries...." Paux mentioned.  He raised his goblet in Severus' direction.

As November bled into December, the Dark Lord was tiring of not receiving any useful information.  Fortunately, Professor Snape was alone in his quarters at approximately 9 in the evening when his arm began to burn.  He quickly downed a vial  the potion Sylvia had covertly invented for her apprenticeship project 4 years prior.  Affy had delivered a few vials to him just 3 weeks ago, perfectly brewed, perfected after all these years, at least the best they could tell without actually casting the unforgivable.  Most of the potion had been set aside for the students, and ingredients would run out in a couple of months.

He took his office floo to Malfoy Manor moments later, with an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.  This could not be good.  Killing Dumbledore had earned him some trust and a little leeway, but he had a suspicion this was coming to an end.  The Dark Lord had been furious when Potter and Co had infiltrated the Ministry, and ordered him to find useful information on their where-a-bouts.  Sylvia had determined from spying on Ginevra Weasley that the trio had been on the run, camping and frequently on the move, but nothing more specific than that.  It appeared that  "Weasley 6" was no longer with them, a fact he would keep to himself.

When he landed in the fireplace near the servant's entrance in Malfoy Manor, Lucius himself was there to greet him.  The men were no longer on friendly terms, so this was additionally concerning.  

"Lucius," he acknowledged, sounded bored.  The elder Malfoy smirked at him, looking a little gleeful, like he was about to finally witness Severus Snape get his comeuppance.  

"The Dark Lord is waiting for you.  In the drawing room."  Snape nodded curtly and billowed away, leaving Lucius in his wake.

The Dark Lord had been given the best chair, ornately carved out of a dark wood, and seated in old leather.  His long lean figure was clothed in impressive silver robes, reflected by the firelight, and an odd majestic contrast to his freakishly reptile like face. He was accompanied by Yaxley, who emitted an odor of...decay, was the best way it could be described. It appeared his teeth were rotting out of his mouth. Also present was Bellatrix Lanstrange, and there were something off about her as well. She looked both more thin, and more bloated, her belly a bit swollen, as well as her face, while her arms had a wasted look.  Snape approached them, and fell to one knee before the Dark Lord, like a Muggle Catholic entering a church pew.

"Severus.......it has been many weeks since you provided an update"  The Dark Lord hissed at him.

"Yes My Lord.  I was waiting until I had more definitive news.  I can tell you that Potter and his friends have been camping in the Forest of Dean.  However, they change spots frequently, and by the time I am able to track down a campsite they have moved on.  I am not even completely certain they are still in the forest, although I believe they are"

"This is unacceptable, Sevurs!  Do you not wish to find Potter?  It seems you are hardly trying!!!" It was hard not to notice Bellatix looked impossibly smug, and Severus was quite concerned as to the reason why. It had to be something more than merely watching him get chastised.

"I assure you Lord, I am giving this task high priority.  One suggestion, if I may.  We know where they likely are - the approximate area.  Another we DO know is that Potter, like Dumbledore before him has the disgustingly disrespectful habit of referring to your Lordship by name.  If we were to make your name Taboo, and place Snatchers in strategic places in the forest, it might help locate him quickly."  He would have to find a way to get word to Wearisome Weasley to find Potter, and tell him not to say the Dark Lord's name, but this could buy him some time.

"Is that all, Severus?  Lucius came up with the same idea just 2 weeks ago, and we are already working on it..."

Lucius would not have known Potter may be hiding in the Forest of Dean, but it was a blow nonetheless. 

"I will provide you with an incccentive to work harder to locate Potter," the Dark Lord continued his eye glowing.  It took very little effort for the Dark Lord to gather the effort for the Cruciatus Curse, and Snape only had a split second warning that he was doing so, non-verbally.  As he sank to the floor writhing with what was only mild, achy pain, he thought about Sylvia's developed talent for reading his own split second expressions, and felt a moment of sympathy for putting her through that.  It was difficult to writhe convincingly, AND covertly observe the Dark Lord for signs he had ceased to cast the curse.

As the achy feeling subsided, Snape remained on the floor, arranging his face to be appearing to suppress a whimper, trying to appear spent.   He was sweating less than he normally would, hopefully the Dark Lord did not notice.  Perhaps the potion could be adjusted to mimic the effects of being in severe pain for several minutes.

"You are less enthusiastic about spying for me, Severus, and you are even less enthusiastic about being punished, I see.  Very well.......I will call for you again.........shortly.  I expect you to have made more progress....."

Carefully, Snape got to his feet, and again down on one knee, properly before the Dark Lord.  His master, insane though he was, could sense something was off, perhaps thinking he was merely running out of energy, as opposed to being defiant.  He was getting off very, very easy, he could tell.   For now.

the thoughts of Professor Flitwick, continued.

I had rounds with Rolanda Hooch one evening in mid February.  The week had been miserable, with bone chilling unrelenting rain, only a few degrees above freezing.  During the long stressful winter, the students were on edge, and poorly behaved.  And disappearing regularly.  About a quarter of the student population was regularly missing, although some of them did show up for a few of the key classes such as charms, transfiguration, arithmancy.  In other words, if there was a competent professor to defend them, if needed.  Then they disappeared back into the walls of the castle - but several were just completely gone.  I was not sure if all of them were hiding, or if the Carrows had done something unpleasant.  I suspected the former, as the Carrows were in increasingly bad humor about the missing students.

As time wore on I continued to suspect Severus and Miss Mathony had some type of relationship.  I still very seldom even saw them together, and when I did it was occasions such as faculty meetings, and neither did anything to suggest they were even aware of each other.   I suppose the first clue was that he had sent for her, as Severus had never displayed this type of interest in a student's well being, unless there was a political reason to do so.  At the time, it was easy to believe that he needed a potioneer he could trust to make such things as Versitaserum and Polyjuice Potion, and I did know about Miss Mathony's ability to tweak the truth potion to compel the person taking it to reveal less or more information. 

As the year wore on, it occurred to me that they had each adopted the other's coping skills.  Sylvia had perfected an impenetrable blank expression when faced with the Carrow's egregious behavior that felt all too familiar.  Severus became skilled at becoming physically unnoticeable, quickly dissolutioning himself into the stonework of the castle.   This was a change from his usual methods of being invisible.  Disillusioning into the very walls was Sylvia Mathony's trademark, along with the potion she was particularly fond of which allowed her to see in the dark. As I have mentioned, this had been her main method of sneaking out to go to the library after hours, or to the greenhouse, to procure plants that were best picked by moonlight, at specific astrological times.  It appeared that Severus, who stalked the Carrows relentlessly, had taken note.

These particular rounds were the earlier ones - just about at curfew, shooing students back to their dormitories.  But it might as well have been midnight, most of them had already fled.  Rolanda and I had already rounded on several floors, including the dungeons, the Great Hall, the corridors around the Infirmary, multiple classrooms, the Trophy Room, the halls leading to the kitchens and Hufflepuff.  We were almost done with the library, we started in the back, and worked our way to the front.  And it was there, just to the right of the entrance, in a nook now called the "Heritage Alcove" that had been repurposed to include genealogy of pureblood families, and a ridiculous "history" section that remade wizards, particularly pureblood wizards as the heroes of everything, that I came upon Alecto Carrow.  She was tormenting a 1st year Ravenclaw girl called Maude Chilcott with a very unpleasant jinx called surrupo fornicus.  The effect of the spell was that one felt like insects were crawling around under one's skin, in one's ears, and other orifices.  It would drive you mad.  Maude was holding her head in her hands, alternately swatting at her ears, occasionally pausing to pace as brush at her arms.  She looked absolutely miserable.  

I raised my wand to cancel the spell, but Rolanda had silently come up behind me, and beat me to it, as Miss Chilcott stopped abruptly, and looked relieved.  Except - well, wasn't Miss Chilcott headed up to the Ravenclaw Tower right after dinner?  I saw her leave, under the supervision of the 6th year prefect.  She had been tortured by the Carrows before, and would not be wandering about the castle.  What was going on, I had no idea.

"Out past curfew!" Alecto Carrow hissed.  "No doubt here to defile these sacred books..." she gestured around the "Heritage Alcove".  

"Thank you, Alecto, I will see to her.  Come, Miss Chilcott.  You need to return to the Ravenclaw tower.  We can discuss your punishment on the way......"  I steered her by the elbow.  She was only a little taller than myself.  Miss Chilcott, or her imposter hung her head a bit, as if embarrassed, but did not say anyting.  Alecto looked disappointed.

"I think I will be deciding her punishment."

"I will take it up with the Headmaster," I told her.  Severus would provide discipline, but I couldn't help but notice he was not in the habit of cursing or jinxing the students.

"I will continue the rounds," Rolanda informed me.  "perhaps we could meet up again by the stairs to the Ravenclaw Tower - I should be headed that way in 15 minutes time."

"That sounds sensible," I agreed, anxious to get out of there.  And good thing, too.  Shortly after we left the library, heading back towards the corridor that led to the Ravenclaw Tower, I could no longer reach the elbow I had been holding,and was looking up at Miss Mathony, the school robes she had been wearing now indecently short.

"Thank you," she smiled down at me.  I waved my wand to muffle our conversation.

"Should I inform the Headmaster of your misdeed, or will you tell him yourself?"

In that brief moment, I knew, and she knew that I knew.

"You are welcome to inform him, but I will need to mention it myself.  He will be aggrieved.  The Cruciatus Curse had been mostly sorted......"

"This is a response to a less effective Cruciatus."

"We could just give them anti-jinxing shields in their cloaks and robes and such, but the problem is the Carrows have to believe that it is working......."Miss Mathony sighed.  We headed back towards the Headmaster's office instead of Ravenclaw.  When we got close, Miss Mathony stopped me with a gesture of her hand.

"The less said, the better." she warned.

"He will not have a discussion with me."

"No.  The less you know - the less that is in your mind for any Legitimus to mine - the better.  He will likely deny............protecting everyone around him from the Dark One is so ingrained it is a reflex at this point.  I would not mention it - to anyone.  Those that have a discerning mind are able to figure it out on their own.  Those that question his loyalties and priorities should not be given any fodder for discussion, for the good of everyone.  If you know or can guess enough to understand what he is doing, you understand you should keep silent."

"Minerva."

"She is a good person, under it all.  But she is not the right person right now to carry his cause.  Having her publically treating our Headmaster like a murdering Death Eater is actually very helpful - it is giving cover to those who are quietly questioning.  Remember the end goal, and not necessarily what is fair to Severus.  To be fair to him right now means to undo what he has so painstakingly done."

"That is wise counsel my Eaglet.  I will honor it."

"Thank you.  Come with me for a brief show for those that may be watching."  I cancelled the muffling spell.

"Prudens"  Miss Mathony told the gargoyle .  It sprang to life, to allow us entrance.

"you first," the young woman.  "We don't want him wrong footed."

I nodded, and tried to put on a game face.

"Severus!"  I called out.  He knew we were coming, and had risen from his desk.  

"Can I help you?" said in a tone that made it crystal clear he had no desire to provide any assistance at all.

"Severus. While on rounds,  I came upon one of my 1st year students in the library, the subject of a highly unpleasant jinx from Alecto Carrow.  When I removed the student from the situation, meaning to escort her back to the Ravenclaw tower, it turned out to be Miss Mathony here, polyjiuced.  Now I don't know what this is all about, but........"

"Thank you Filius.  I will deal with Miss Mathony," he turned to look at her with a stone cold expression.  Miss Mathony did not look particularly concerned or repentant.  This was typical for her.  She does not value the non academic opinions of others that highly, even those in authority.  I was beginning to understand she did value Severus' opinion, but she played her part perfectly, her face a blank mask.  Once again, she appeared every inch his student.

"Report."  he ordered her.

"I took the polyjuice potion to lure Professor Carrow away from a group of 3rd year Hufflepuffs, who were late leaving the Great Hall after dinner.  She followed me to the library, where I was feigning interest in the Heritage section.  She accused me of sneaking in to defile the collection, and hit me with the surrupo fornicus.  It was highly unpleasant.  Professors Flitwick and Hooch were rounding after about 10 minutes of this, and Professor Hooch cancelled the spell.  Professor Flitwick told Professor Carrow he would escort me back to Ravenclaw Tower, as the child I was impersonating was of this House, and after we had been walking for a couple of minutes, the Polyjuice wore off - I have been going through rather a lot of it."  He regarded her coldly, and waved his wand abruptly, lengthening her robes to the regulation standard.

]"Very well.  Do not try such a stunt again, if you do not wish to have your family tree presented to the Regime.  I hope you are working on more Polyjuice."  He seemed most peeved with the information the Polyjuice supply was low.

"Return to your quarters." 

"Yes, Headmaster," she turned on her heel in a quick, graceful gesture, and sailed out of the room.

There was another silence as we regarded each other.

"Filius."

"Headmaster?"

"If you hear from Potter, or hear about his whereabouts, it is imperative that I speak with him."

"I don't have Potter.  If that changes, I am not sure what I will be able to reveal......."

"Would you at least update Miss Mathony?"

This would be less risky than sending word to Severus.  

"I will consider it."

"You are dismissed."

"As you wish,"  Despite Miss Mathony's warning, it looked like I had been trusted with a confidence.  I could not acknowledge this, only take my leave, heading back towards Ravenclaw Tower where Rolanda would be waiting.

++++

Severus gave her 10 minutes to return to her quarters before bursting through the floo.  She was pulling on a dressing gown as he walked in.

"That was too close for comfort!"

"It was," sighed Sylvia.  

"You were careless!"

"You took more of my Polyjuice than I was expecting!"

"Why didn't you tell me that was the last of it?"

"The next batch will be ready in 3 days.  I didn't want to trouble you.  I was not expecting to need it......"

"We cannot afford this type of misstep!"

"I do not know how else to handle this!"

"Handle what?"

"They are somehow clued in that the Cruciatus Curse is not having the desired effect.    I knew they had moved on to something else, and made their torture more secret.  I needed to find out what it was."

"Did you not ask the students?"

"The sensation is so miserable, it is hard to describe.  I had narrowed it down to 3 different curses and 2 different jinxes."

"And....."

"It is surrupo fornicus.  That much I know.  But it seems stronger than a jinx would be.  It will drive you absolutely insane....."

Severus sighed.

"You cannot let your emotions lead you towards taking risks like this.  Where was the actual student in question."

"Headed back to Ravenclaw, last I saw.  Just after dinner."

"We are lucky it was Filius that found you.  Do you think Rolanda Hooch suspected anything?"

"I think she was confused.  The student in question has taken the brunt of some nasty curses.  She is a favorite target, because of her blood line - like 30 percent muggle, and the wizarding blood she does have is not anyone important.  So she has been pretty sheltered by the Prefects.  They escort her everywhere they can."

"Who is the student."

"Maude Chilcott.  Ravenclaw 1st year."

Severus struggled to bring up an image of a young girl, small for her age, who looked a year or two too young to be attending Hogwarts.  

"Let's hope Madam Hooch does not mention the incident to the real Miss Chilcott."

"Yeah.  She doesn't talk much at all.  So....there is less of a chance she will say anything incriminating."

"Even so,"
"I know Severus."

"So what should we do about surrupo fornicus?"
"You are not going to like my suggestion."

"Which is -"

"You are going to need to jinx me, so I can see if the jinx has been modified."
"Madam Hooch was able to cancel it?"

"Yes."

"So it is still a jinx, not a curse," the Headmaster pointed out.

"Yes, that's true," Sylvia brightened.  "Still - it is amplified"

"A jinx with an amplifier?"

"I think.  You will have to do it again to make sure."

Reluctantly, Severus pointed his wand at her.  "surrupo fornicus!"  

Sylvia started shaking her head, trying to clear it.  Pretty soon, it felt like there were bugs crawling on her skin, and she rubbed her arms.

"No.  This is really annoying, but what Alecto did was insanity provoking."

"Amplifico!"  The sensation increased, and Sylvia was obviously extremely uncomfortable.  It felt like bugs were crawling around in her ears.

Severus repeated the amplification.

"Yes that's it!  Please make it -"

Before she could say stop, the non-verbal spell was complete.  The bugs had ceased.

'"Yes, that is it - what are we going to do?  The need to at least believe that it is working."

"We might," Severus took a deep breath, "Benefit from the assistance of...."

"Of....."

"The Weasleys.  The twins, specifically." Severus never thought he would see the day when he was actually seeking out Fred and George Weasley, but they had developed anti-jinxing clothing.....perhaps it could be adjusted to meet the current need.

While very grateful to St. Mungo's for saving Severus' life, Sylvia had been anxious to leave it.  The extra security did not go away - first it was alledgedly because Severus could be potentially danagerous, but due to all of the unwanted attention, ended up being to protect him.   It was intrusive, having the extra people around, and provided an energy that was felt like amped up anxiety.  Sylvia was completely over it.  She had carried her own anxiety since she had been called to Hogwarts in September, and now there was nor reason at all for it.  The Dark One was gone.  Severus was safe, and recovering.  Her little one was safe, and growing - she could feel the beginnings of fluttering in her gently swelling belly.

With some difficulty, she convinced the Healers to discharge Severus from St. Mungo's, and they took a train from London to Wales, as Severus was too weak to apparate.  From there is was a short floo trip to the Mathony family home, and were able to cross over the the Realm. 

Instead of Sylvia's ancestral home, they stated in Realm's version of a convalescent suite.  Sylvia was right.  The energy of the Realm was just different, timeless, with a purity to it.  The air felt light and clean, and it was indeed easier to breathe.  There were not nearly as many interruptions, and he got more dedicated hours to simply rest.  Medical potions gave way to treatments such as a paste with Eucalyptus oil, rubbed on his chest, various plants made into teas, hearty vegetarian stews, and sips of a type of alcoholic drink made with honey and heather, which was fortifying in small amounts.  Within a few days, he was strong enough to stand, and walk for short distances.  The Realm's equivalent of wizarding Healers were women, and all elderly. 

 For the first several days, they were left largely alone, with the exception of occasional visits from the Medicinal Elder, and when Severus was strong enough, they moved back into the tree house, where they were visited a few times a week by Sylvia's friends, her paternal grandmother, a few cousins and a couple of the Elders.  Visitors generally came in twos and stayed for about 45 minutes.  A few times a week.  Very manageable.  Enough to see the Woodland community welcomed and cared about him, especially since they had little opportunity for socializing thus far.  Lowri had developed a translation spell during her own time at the Realm, and it was heavily utilized.

The first visitors were the Elders Sabien and Paux, who spent some time simply sitting in comfortable silence, providing merely their presence and not much else.  Finally, Sabien said, knowingly,

"You are still feeling responsible.  Like you are supposed to be there, back at Hogwarts, assisting with the clean up, the injuried"

That was true.  Once the haze of pain had passed, and the venom had left his system, Severus had the uncomfortable feeling he was leaving tasks undone, that somehow Hogwarts would not function without him.  It was hard to let go of his duty, even though he very much wanted to.  But he did not want to engage in some sort of therapy session with the elders of the Realm.  Or anyone else.

"The Centaurs have described what is written in the Heavens," Paux added.  "and your path no longer intersects with the direction of wizarding kind.  Now we know for sure which variable was yours, we can decipher with more certainty.  Whatever role you have now, you can assume it at your leisure, when you are ready.  There is no advantage to rushing back in.  In fact, we would advise the opposite.  Rest, recover, and perhaps rediscover some of your own interests.  You represent pain and dispair to many, even though it is becoming known you stood in the blaze to shield others from the fullness of its heat.  Allow perhaps a bit of healing."

"Prepare to welcome your child."  Sabien nodded.  "We have much to celebrate.  With any luck the last of the genetic wasting disease that claimed the life of Sylvasaya's father has been bred out.  You have your own line, your own legacy to leave to this world, and to yours.  Make an effort to turn towards this joy.  You have earned it."

The pregnancy.  It was frequently in the back of his mind, but he had not yet really made it any kind of priority in his thoughts.  A few days prior, seeing Sylvia's profile, he had only fleetingly contemplated the reality of her gently swelling abdomen.

They now had plenty of privacy, something they had only enjoyed in mostly stolen moments and nights.  Neither had ever completely let their guard down.  But now, as stars twinkled through the leaves of the forest tree house home, where fresh summer night air blew through the rooms,  they were snuggled together in the goosedown bed in the top most bedroom with no return to Hogwarts looming.  Severus was still recovering, but his immediate health needs were no longer front and center of their conversations.   He was even able to ascend to the bedroom without needing to use magic.

"The baby is moving around quite a bit today," Sylvia told him.

Severus turned to lay a hand gently on her abdomen.  She had barely mentioned the baby at all since the battle, let alone it's movements.  She had not made a show of resting her hand on her growing "bump", as he had noticed pregnant women tended to do.  Her abdomen felt firm, but he could not feel the baby move himself.

"Is he now?" he asked encouragingly.  Perhaps it was time to focus on becoming parents.  It was nice to have a more positive topic of conversation.  They generally referred to the baby has "he" although the gender was unknown at this point.  "What does it feel like?"

Sylvia considered "Like some sort of field mouse scrambling around I suppose."  Severus smirked, but stroked gently, slipping a warm hand under her nightdress.  The intimacy of the gesture made Sylvia's heart skip a beat.  It felt very loving, a side of him she felt she must be first to truly bear witness to.  She  intertwined her long narrow fingers with his. 

"I would assume," Severus said, "that there must be some sort of preparations for the baby you might be looking forward to."

"I have been around babies and mothers my whole life," Slyvia admitted.  "Many elflings are raised in family groups, with several long term friends living and raising young children together, with their own mothers and aunties nearby helping, advising.  I would be in such a group, seeing up close how babies are cared for, at this point, but instead, I am taking the role of a wife, which as I have metioned is not typical.  I do not miss being forced to spend 24 hours a day with a group of women to talk only of babies and young children.  But they make things, like little clothes, and the newborn swing.....and I'd kind of like ...."

"Swing?"

"Like a little hammock, you put your baby in it for naps....it is woven from specific fibers, in patterns, with protective enchantments.  I would only be able to manage a plain one, it is a skill that take quite a bit of practice. .  Young children wear limited clothing, but the babies have little gowns, buntings to keep them warm."

"We certainly have time for you to make those items.  Plenty of time."

"Would you.......make something for the baby?" Sylvia almost whispered this, hesistently.  Was she pushing too far....

"Sylvia......." again, the warm rich tone of his voice in the syllables.  It never failed to still her.  He removed his hand from her belly and drew her close.  "I want this child.  I admit, the abruptness of the requirement gave me pause.  But such was the needs of the culture from which you come.   If I had not wanted to become a father, I would have declined.  In part, because I myself was raised by someone who did not want to be a father.  And also because I have spent enough of my life being miserable, and I did not want to add to it."

Sylvia was very quiet.  

"I have spent some time contemplating no longer having any relatives for family for a while.  In a way, it made my job to assist in bringing down the Dark Lord easier.  I felt I could take different risks.  But it was getting very lonely and isolating, watching all those around me have someone to live for.  I was risking it all for people who did not appreciate it, with no return at all for myself.  So I decided to allow.....you, and with you, your world's demand for offspring.   And when you fell pregant, while I was not pleased with the timing, I was comforted to know you and the child could be whisked away toThe Realm and not made to suffer the fall out should the worst happen.  

Sylvia dared breathe.  Words were always a gift.  This was pretty much a monolouge. 

"When the life was ebbing out of me, from the bite of that blasted snake, I felt peaceful - relieved almost, that I had done all I could, and that I was leaving this Earth with the experience - the experience of you, and however briefly, the hope of this child.  I was at peace the child would be raised in the Realm, where all of the men have the potential to be fathers to any of its young, and my absence would not have such a devestating impact."

"Were you sad to leave?" Sylvia asked.

"Not exactly.  If I had not been actively dying, I'm sure I would have been, but the proces of dying is a very unique experience.  It was, in its way, very beautiful.  Waking up at St. Mungo's, not so much.  Even with everything to live for, for the first time in my life, it took effort to re-engage in a world that is frequently uncomfortable and painful.  That is why I was so free with information about our relationship.  I was very disengaged in caring about the consequences of that, and wanted to say whatever it took to have you at my side without restrictions.   And through it all, you have not wavered, you have not asked for anyting from me, given me all this space, all this care.  You moved us here, to this place that is balanced, and devoid of oppressive responsibility, of anguish, of toxic fear.  Our only job now is to prepare for and welcome this child.  Let us do that.  Anything else can wait."  He paused and thought.  "What would you like me to make?"

"I do not know what we are having.  I am not sure if wizarding men make anything for their newborns.  I don't remember Aeron making anything for Llyr.  There were some heirlooms, passed down.  A cradle, specifically."

"I will come up with something," Severus reassured her.  "it would be nice to have something to pass the time."

He actually had something in mind.  A swaddling blanket.  The same spell he cast on his students could be sewn into a newborn blanket, and the spell would not wear off.  Might go nicely with the infant hammock.  The problem was he had no idea how to make one.  Society witches would not be bothered - they had elves to look after their babies.  His mind ran through the list former Hogwarts colleagues.  He could not imagine confiding in ANY of them.  He ended up chosing Filius, which he thought would likely be least objectionable to Sylvia.  Due Filius' goblin heritage, and the complexities that came with that, Sylvia was considering asking him to be the godparent.

"Have you ........mentioned your pregnancy to your parents?" he asked.  He did not want to mention the pregnancy to Filius if the Mathony's were not even aware of it. 

"You know, I have not.  I wonder if my mother has guessed, when she came to St. Mungo's.  I wanted telling them to be happy.  There has been a lot of unhappiness surrounding everything.  Then we were on a path to actually having a life, but you were not well enough to be part of the announcement."

"We should tell them soon.   Delaying until we could be properly celebratory is one thing, but I don't want this to go on like some sort of shameful secret.  You parents of all people will comprehend the timeline."

And so the next week, they returned to the farmhouse, to take tea with Sylvia's family.  Llyr was visiting his grandparents, and Sylvia was mildly disappointed.  She was ready to get re-acquainted with her half brother.   Severus brought a bottle of champagne.  Lowri orginally assumed this was to celebrate the end of the war, perhaps Severus' recovery, but Aeron caught on a little quicker, having already taken in the loose flow of Sylvia's robes, and the non-existant sip of champagne.  Nonetheless, he patiently waited for the news to be announced.

"Oh,my!" he kicked Lowri under the table before she could add "Already?", and she quickly substituted "when?"

"End of October, beginning of November.  In there somewhere."

"That is NOT a lot of time to prepare!" Lowri scolded.

"As if anyone in that Realm needs time to prepare for the arrival of an infant," Severus teased her.

"Yeah, that was not what the elders said when we acknowledged the impending arrival." Sylvia told them.  

"They knew?"

"They did.  Kind of like how infants are magically known to be slated for Hogwarts.  They magically knew they are gaining another member.  I must say, they were a little smug".  

"What did they say?"

"That I would be required  to observe the 30 days after birth, but then Severus and I could return to my ancestral home, with the baby, IF I agreed to at least some nursemaids."

"30 days?" Aeron turned to Lowri.

"Ah, yes.  Sylvia will be longing around in what is basically a post partum suite, eating parituclarly prepared foods, being waited on, attended to while she establishes a nursing pattern.  The infant is introduced to key members of the group.  At the end, there is a welcoming ceremony.  They do this to cement the baby becoming an Woodland Elf.  Without intense early integration, the child will return to human form."

"How long will you live in the Realm?"

"5 to 6 years.  Old enough to explain to child not to talk about it with others."  Sylvia had spent weeks at a time in the Realm until she was nearly 7, and only allowed into Aeron's home with limited contact of other family members."

"That's quite a sacrifice."

"There are pros and cons," Severus stated. " I have no family to speak of.  This IS the baby's extended family.  His heritage.  We will be allowed to leave to visit you all, to run our lives, and hopefully within the next year a business.  Sylvia will be allowed leeway to establish herself professionally."

"Build another house here," Aeron suggested, shrugging.  "There is plenty of land.  Having a child spend its early years raised simply with a lot of extended family around is hardly a tragedy.  You had mentioned running an apothocary.  Will you still do that?"

"With your permission," Sylvia said hesitantly.  "I'd like to tear down the brewing room, and re-do it, with ingredient storage."

"That sounds fine."   Aeron gestured.  "There are hectors of land.  And the old brewing facility has gotten to be a bit of an eyesore.  It would be nice to modernize.  Are you planning a green house?"

"Most likely that will be housed in the Realm, until the baby is old enough to move to the villiage.  It will need quite a lot of tending."

"It will be somewhat of a relief at any rate to have a place where no on in the wizarding world will have access to us while we catch our breath.  Accomodations in the Realm are fairly basic, but the privacy cannot be beat."

"It's like going back in time," Lowri remembered.  She seldom mentioned that portion of her life, which had only really been a couple of fleeting years.

With Sylvia's parents finally looped into the pregnancy, Severus felt more comfortable confiding in Flilius.  He waited a few more weeks, during which time Sylvia tried her hand at her traditional weaving.  It took nearly a month of non-stop attempts to achieve the simplest design, and some of her fellow mamas to be took over, and put in some embellishments.  When the project was about 2/3 of the way finished, Severus managed to slip away, saying he had some unfinished business to attend to.  Among other things, he wanted to put his childhood home up for sale with a muggle realator. Once at the villiage, he took floo to the train, and take the train back to London.  

Filius had himself been spending some time in isolation, with his extended family, recovering from the war.  Nonetheless, he immediately agreed to see Severus, meeting him for lunch on the outskirts of Diagon Alley.  It was a restraunt that catered exclusively to people who did not want to be noticed.  Notice-me-not charm on the entrance, partioned seating areas, and a lot of magical soundproofing.

"Have you been in touch with Miss Mathony?" Filius asked carefully, after they had chosen from the menu, tapping the selections with their wands.  Severus gave him a little smirk.  Apparently the staff at St. Mungo's weren't much for gossip.

"That will be a topic of conversation, to be sure.  She does not know I am seeing you today, but if she did, I am sure she would send her regards."

"What has she been doing, since the battle?  I tried to send an owl, but it returned, letter unopened....."

"She has been looking after me, during my recovery" Severus told him, "in her ancestral land, which is not accessible by owl.   She never would have slighted...."

"Ooooh, you ARE in touch."  

"That is one way of putting it.  We are expecting a baby this fall."

Filius was so surpised he dropped the glass of gillywater he was holding.  His former colleague righted it and returned its contents with a flick of his wand.

"That's.....that's......."

"unexpected," Severus supplied.

"Indeed.  But I'm assuming, since you mentioned it, not unwelcome."

"The child will be unexpected by pretty much everyone in the wizarding world, aside from Sylvia's parents.  But neither unexpected, nor unwelcome for us."

"Well, it that case, it appears congratulations are in order."  Filius struggled to find his footing.  Severus' expression did not change.  At all. Not even when their selected menu items magically appeared on their plates.

"It is hard to quickly assimilate the information that you were impregnating your former student, perhaps even purposefully, while on one side keeping the Carrows at bay on the other side, Minevra, and most of the rest of the faculty as well as 2/3 of the student body and doing Merlin knows what to manage Voldemort.   None of these things seemed to lend to an atmosphere of romance."

"It was necessary to compartmentalize," Severus admitted.  "But now the war is over, I must admit it is pleasant to have this to look forward to.   I wish to spend some time enjoying anticipaing the arrival, perhaps even spoiling Sylvia a little after so many months of having to pretend to everyone that she didn't exist."

"Are we yet to the point of this social call."

"We are.   I am planning to make a magical item for this child, and am calling on your expertise.   I apologize for the imposition.   The number of people even aware of our relationship is very limited, and I think it would be wise to garner the support of those closest to us before the existence of this child becomes common knowledge."

Filius was already starting to shift from being shocked to excited.

"Of course, of course!  What are you planning on making?"

+++

7 months into her pregnancy, and with Severus' condition more stable, the discussion finally turned to childbirth.  Sylvia was somewhat insistant she needed to give birth in the Realm.  It was strongly instinctual and not really based in reality.

"What if there is a problem?"

"Elflings do not have birthing problems," Sylvia told him.  "The life is tied to yours...that is ancient magic to prevent elflings from stillbirths, and dying during the birthing process."

"And I am still weak from the blasted snake.  And what of your life?  What is YOUR life tied to?"

There was not a good answer to that.  Elven maternal mortality was low, but it wasn't zero. "I'm supposed to be there," is all Sylvia could say.

"What will happen if you are not?"  

She could not tell him.

"How about a compromise?  You give birth in your parent's home, with a mid-witch?  We can floo to St. Mungo's if needed.  When the child arrives safely, it will be a very short trip to the Realm to observe your customs."

Eventually Sylvia agreed.  The Elders weren't thrilled, but they were happy to at least get immediate access after the birth was done.  After everything the couple had gone through, they needed to bend a bit.  And it was strongly embedded in their culture that an Elven woman would have her own mother at her side while giving birth.  

++++

Sylvia went into labor on October 29th, in the evening, and was up all night.  She would not take anything for pain, as nothing was known about woodland-elf human pregnancy, and the mid-witch was provided with very limited information.   Woodland Elves did not treat labor pain.  It was just the way nature was.

By 6 am the following morning, Severus was rethinking his decision to have her give birth on wizarding soil, as she was completely at odds with the mid-witches. Another had arrived to relieve the first, and ended up staying to help out. The more the labor progressed, the more determined Sylvia was to be outside, in the orchard of all places.  It was very chilly, still dark, and  she kept hiding amongst the trees.   Severus had to repeatedly use a revealing spell to locate her.  The mid-witches were getting crabby, and with considerable difficulty, they convinced Sylvia to come back in doors, and take off her cloak.

 The contractions were just a couple of minutes apart, and within 10 minutes Sylvia became completely irrational, and attempted to go back outside.  The instinct for contact with the Earth was overpowering.  They managed to keep her in by magically locking the door, but she would not lie down or squat to give birth. Finally her mother filled the oversized bathtub in the master bathroom.  As she hoped, Sylvia was drawn to it, shed the last of her clothing and got in.  The baby was born within 15 minutes,  which was it's own circus in such a crowded space, but at least Sylvia was a lot calmer.

 The night mid-witch lifted the baby from the water with an air of relief, and into a waiting towel held by her colleague, as the unmistakable sounds of vigorous newborn cries filled the bathroom, and echoed off the tile.  They wanted to wait to cut the cord until the placenta was delivered, but Sylvia bit through it, and the torn ends were magically sealed without intervention from the mid-witches.  The placenta came nearly half an hour later, as Sylvia put her baby to breast, like she had done it before.

 Severus was so relieved that Sylvia had stopped fighting everyone to give birth, and that the baby appeared to be breathing and moving appropriately, he forgot to see if they had a son or a daughter.  He was just about to ask when there was commotion around delivery of the placenta, and one of the mid-witches removed the baby, still wrapped in a soggy towel and handed it to him.  As the new mother received some attention, Lowri beckoned him over to the adjoining bedroom indicating clean dry flannel receiving blankets, warm washcloths, and a fresh nappy.  She helped him unwrap, clean, and diaper the baby.  It was a little boy.

They were able to get Sylvia out of the tub and into the bed in the bedroom they had been using, and finally, with profound exhaustion and gratitude Severus lay down next to her.  After the baby had been examined, it was passed back to them without comment, The room was suddenly quieter.  They had noticed - tiny pointed ears.  The baby had black hair more than a purely human infant would have , and round slightly slanted eyes were an indeterminate shade of dark grey. "We have a boy?"

"We do."
"Good."  Sylvia did not have a preference of gender for herself, but she felt that the expectations of straddling the 2 worlds would be easier for a boy than for a girl.  Severus just wanted a healthy, and relatively calm child, and did not care much beyond that. They had a boys name chosen - Gwydian.  It was a Welsh name that meant "born of trees" and would fit both worlds.  Gwydian Mathony Snape.  Because of the secrecy issues with the Realm, the decision was made to continue the illusion that Aeron Mathony was the child's biological grandfather.  

+++

It felt like days since they had had more than 2 consecutive hours of sleep.
Of course they could have called for one of the ever hovering nursemaids.  There were at least 4 Severus had counted so far, one of them actually insisted on sleeping in the second bedroom, arms very eager for the sweet little elfling.  Both of them had to admit they had never seen anything quite so adorable.  But he needed to establish a nursing pattern, and there was only one person who could do that right now, and Severus was NOT going to abandon her.
"He no longer wants to nurse, yet he is still crying," moaned Sylvia.  "Even after trying his little hammock, and the swaddling you made for him.  I'm not sure what to DO."

"Give him to me," Severus directed.  He brightened the lamp with his wand so he could focus on the sturdy infant in his arms.  "Now.  see here.  There is absolutely no need for all this fussing about.  You need a more efficient way to communicate what is wrong.  For example, you could say, "Father, my nappy is soiled, and I wish for you to exchange it for a fresh one."

Sylvia laughed out loud and fell back into the pillows.  The volume of the baby's cries decreased somewhat."Perhaps you were hoping we could brew," Severus continued.  "However, it is in the middle of the night.  You will have to wait until daylight." The crying paused, as if considering. "Instead, would you like to listen to this article in "Potions Monthly" about how the type of Dragon Blood affects the potency of Wolfsbane Potion?"

"Or you could listen to Mummy explain how the method of procurement for dragon's blood affects potency." Sylvia lectured.

Severus chuckled. "Perhaps we can save that for tomorrow night."  The baby quieted completely, looking at his father intently.  Severus began to read, and Sylvia fell back asleep to the sound of his rich melodic voice.

"Aaron has offered us wedding robes,of the House of Mathony" Sylvia still was not skilled at working up any conversation.  Mostly Severus found this endearing, but sometimes abrupt imparting of information did feel rather blunt.

"That is thoughtful.  Are we having that type of wedding?  It thought it was to be a largely informal affair."

"It was.  Until Draco Malfoy found out about it.  And Harry Potter.  Apparently, they have joined forces to help my parents host the wedding.  Which, as my mother explained will likely be mostly dictated by Narcissa Malfoy, with their house elves doing most of the work of course.  My mother is PLEASED.   This will help them socially, and Gwydian eventually, so I can't really say no....Malfoy and Potter plan on making a joint statement to the Prophet, as a show of support"

"Narcissa Malfoy will somehow turn a poorly attended casual event into something that feels exclusive," Severus noted.  "I can see the Prophet article now......few were lucky enough to warrant an invite to the wedding of the elusive former Hogwarts Headmaster, and his mysterious protege..... they will not mention I don't really have family to speak of, and have had to severely limit friendships for the past 18 years.....or that neither of can tolerate most people......"

"I think right now the guest list stands at about 30 or so - and many of those are Aaron's family.  I was going to just invite Raphi, but now, since it's turning into more of a known event, I am going to have to expand, to avoid some hurt feelings.    I might invite some of my former housemates, such as Breckenridge.  Posy.  They both kept in touch.  Maybe even Rosier and Selwyn."

"They will most definitely want to come.  Strategically, we don't not want to hurt our business before it has even gotten off the ground by not having them."

"They were never exactly friends."

"They were as friendly as they possibly could be, considering their family situations.  Trust me."

"We will have to send invitations very, very soon.  We have just 2 months....Even with an expanded guest list, there should be well under 150 people.  There would be less, except now this is going to be a publicized event we kind of have to invite many of the people of the village.  They have watched me grow up, after all. "

.  "That is small enough, to endure for a few hours.  I will not object to being able to acknowledge you as my wife more formally, and not looking like some type of afterthought.  I do not wish for our lives to be up for public consumption, but a few moments in the light, for all to see this is a serious and deliberate marriage is actually welcome.  There is privacy, but there is also the appearance of hiding, as some type of shame.  I will not have the latter.  We have done nothing wrong."

And thus in three weeks time, Narcissa Malfoy came to call, with 2 house elves in her wake.  She wished to view the venue.  The Mathony family home was generously sized, rather picturesque and welcoming, but it was nothing close to as grand as Malfoy Manor. Lowri felt a bit insecure as they toured the grounds.

"The ceremony is towards the end of April....still rather chilly here is Wales..."

"We wanted it before all of the war anniversary."

"Very well.  We can make do with warming charms.....what colors are the wedding robes...."

"Amethyst and Bronze"

"not the best palette for spring flowers, but I think we can work with it..  We can offset with a fair amount of white, maybe shades of a soft green, even the right hue of lavender.....your gardens are charming enough, and if you set up for the ceremony there - " she indicated the large area in front of the ancient Yew.  "There is magic just radiating from that tree.  And while not exactly beautiful, it is visually interesting."

Lowri bit her tongue, not mentioning the tree was quite connected to Sylvia's heritage.  Perhaps, some of the Realm could slip in discreetly.  Probably not, though.  Weddings were not important to most woodland elves, or even on their radar at all.

"Professor Flitwick will be officiating.  We will need a raised platform of some sort, otherwise, it will be difficult to see him."

++++

The thoughts of Severus Snape

I was dreading the public wedding less than I expected.  The villagers of Draig Wen were polite, but not overtly friendly towards me, and they were obviously rather fond of Sylvie.  They would make up the bulk of the wedding guests, in addition to several Hogwarts faculty, a few of my former students in Sylvie's year, and Aaron and Lowri Mathony's extended family members.  And of course, our uninvited hosts, Draco and Potter.  It was mildly irritating to have Potter at my wedding, but he made himself scarce during the actual ceremony,  I heard later from Draco he watched it from his invisibility cloak.  He did appear for part of the reception, to take part in the pictures for the Prophet.  I did understand he was trying to use his influence to set our little family up to re-enter decent society with full acceptance.  Aaron and Lowri were downright Slytherin in their desire to push that forward, and I could appreciate the wisdom in that.

Gwydian was a hit among the guests.  To everyone's extreme amusement, Raphael had a little outfit made for him - a miniature version of my own normal teaching attire, complete with an outer black robe that was bewitched to billow impressively.  This made Gwydian laugh - a great sustained belly laugh, which appeared to be everyone's main source of amusement.

Narcissa herself did not attend, I did not push the awkwardness of inviting her.  My Death Eater days were behind me, and there had been nothing else that we had built any type of friendship on.  She did kindly direct her house elves to pull off a charming, elegant wedding, and the photographs for the Prophet were well received.  But there were no people on the guest list save Sylvia's two young former classmates that were part of Narcissa's pureblood circle, and I knew she did not want to put herself under any scrutiny from the guests.

Truly, as Aaron escorted Sylvie down the aisle, to a swell of music, I felt like I was living someone else's life.  She was exquisitely beautiful, even if the wedding robes seemed a little busy, they complimented her coloring and build perfectly.  She looked like a young queen.  Branches dripping with greenery and white flowers with accents of deep purple lilacs floated above the guests, creating a sort of ceiling.  Elevated on a platform above us, a very joyful Filius conducted the vows, and Draco Malfoy gave a speech about Sylvia and I's efforts to protect the students during the last horrific school year and my protection of Draco himself.  In a portion of this speech I doubt he wrote himself, he pointed out that our building a life together in love, complete with creating a new life was the ultimate defiance of He who did not deserve a name.   He sincerely wished us every happiness.  He also read aloud a bit from Potter, acknowledging my role in ending the war, and expressing deepest thanks.  I cringed at the sentimentality of it all, but realized the message would only help our family acclimate back into society, and take some of the sting out of an infant who seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

The relationship and wedding must have felt a little rushed to the guests, who had not witnessed its development.  But I felt like much of my life had been spent on fulfilling an agenda not living, and didn't see the need to waste any more time.  I suppose there would have been some enjoyment in postponing parenthood, but Gwydian would be off to Hogwarts soon enough, and we always had child care assistance if needed.  There was something uplifting about a new life after experiencing so much death.

This has not yet been addressed - and the subject of much speculation - what was my reaction to rush to fatherhood?  At first, I merely accepted it as a condition of being in a relationship with Sylvia.  I would have made a different decision as a younger man, but at this point of my life, with any biological relatives I had any connection were dead, I did not flat out object to the concept of family.

After I agreed to consider this, to meet her kinfolk to get an idea of what life with her orbit would look like, the concept became less abstract, and more bearable.  Aeron and Lowri were intelligent, academic people, and one could imagine taking the obligatory tea or Christmas dinners without it being a painful experience.   They did not ask intrusive questions, and were capable of interesting and engaging conversation.   The Realm demanded two and two things only - discretion, and offspring.  To make up for the demand of offspring, especially at such a young age for Sylvia, they were willing to pony up quite a bit of support.  From a biological standpoint I could see why this should be so - Sylvia was in the prime age for childbearing, and mathematically, they could repopulate a lot quicker if their citizens did not postpone having children.

And I admit, although I never wanted to live in the Realm full time, and was always ready to leave when we switched back to the wizarding world, I did grow to have a deep appreciation for it - and wanted to see it continue.

++++

Mathony/Snape Wedding guest table "G" - the thoughts of Julia Rosier Abbott

Cassie and I went to the Snape/Mathony nuptials together.  It was not a pureblood event, no use in me bringing my husband, nor Cassie her fiance.  It would far more fun, just the two of us, than trying to explain everything to the men.  We would be put at a table with Jasper Breckenridge and his girlfriend, as well as Raphael Gustoso and his boyfriend Jairo, both of whom are rather hilarious, and spent the whole evening in hysterics.  I did not remember seeing this side of Gustoso at Hogwarts - there was always a hint of sly humor, but nothing head turning.  Well, his boyfriend was much more of an extrovert, and they fed off each other.   With no one we knew well in our circle looking on, we were free to let down our hair, so to speak.  As we got more inebriated as the evening wore on, we took turns entertaining our table partners what Professor Snape and Sylvia flirting in class looked like.  We may have exaggerated a bit.  Jairo was an appreciative audience, and tried to woo Raphael similarly, and even, as he got more drunk, Cassie.

The wedding, as the reader already knows was supposedly hosted by Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, but very obviously planned by Narcissa Malfoy.  The Malfoy's of course own their own country estate, and the decorations were a scaled down version of a typical Malfoy Beltane type garden party.  It wasn't quite Beltane, which was a little too close to the Battle of Hogwarts, but close enough, I suppose.  Everything felt exclusive and elegant.  Even the seating cards were a work of art.  An enchanted ceiling floated over the ceremony of white flowers, dark purple lilacs, dripping with greenery both repelled the light rain and held in the heat of the warming charms.  As the evening wore on and night fell, it was replaced by vines interwoven with tiny lights over the dance floor.  The meal was served in sumptuous tents, the table settings with a forestland theme.  I marveled at the way Narcissa had managed to not have the deep purple colored wedding robes clash with anything.  It would not have been an easy color scheme to work with, but she pulled it off.

We were not completely surprised by the relationship, more so that they had managed to work it into the war, and the Dark Lord's reign.  And of course, the baby.  Professor Snape is not sloppy - and having a child out of wedlock during a war seemed completely out of character for him.  It was very hard to believe the baby was the result of some lust induced "accident", but why on Earth didn't they wait?  After enough champagne, and a couple of mixed drinks Raphael made appear out of seemingly no where, we finally asked him if he knew.  

"Well, Sylvia isn't talking much.  I asked her if he was happy about it - I mean, Snape with a baby?  And she would have found out towards the end of the winter, when things were really bad with Snake Face, and the school was in shambles.  How did she break the news, you know?  The Carrows tortured the 2nd years again during Dark Arts, and by the way, I'm pregnant."

"That must have been quite a conversation."

"When asked if he was happy about it, she said, cryptically 'he agreed to it' rather suggesting that she had wanted the pregnancy for some reason, that it was intentional.  I have no idea why, she never seemed particularly interested in children.  But in the end, well, I kind of wonder if building a life together, complete with a baby kind of got them through it?  Being in love was probably the best mental defense against evil."

"A child?  I would love to know how that came up in conversation.  Well, he seems happy enough about the outcome -" gesturing towards the baby curled up adorably asleep against Professor Snape's shoulder at the head table, the black robe replaced with a fluffy white baby blanket.We contemplated that for a while, everyone thinking the same thing, but no one saying it.  The adorable infant snoozing against the shoulder of the most formidable professor to walk the halls of Hogwarts was brought into this world with deliberate intention that did not necessarily include the desire for a child.  He had a specific purpose that likely would never be revealed.

By age 8, Gwydian was removed from his muggle school, and entered with the other village children of Draig Wen.  There had been a few instances of accidental magic, and Severus was forced to obliterate staff on occasion.  Or perform a bit of tap dancing - once within a year of his enrollment because a pretty young lass Gwydian was attached to was being bullied by a female peer - said peer's nose began growing a wart that grew bigger and bigger the worse the bullying got, on the playground, until the whole class was gathered around, laughing at the bullier, who reached up, felt her nose, and ran screaming inside.  

"I'm not saying he did anything," sighed the 1st year teacher, when she called the parents in.  "But he was the only child in the vicinity that saw what happened and did not seem.......surprised.  He was a little giddy, and later when things settled down, and the child was removed, perhaps a little remorseful.  But definitely missing any shock that the rest of the students were feeling.

"I see.  What was the child who suddenly grew a wart doing - were she and Gwydian interacting?"
"No.  she was involved in an........arguement with another child."

"I see.  And where was Gwydian standing in relation?"

"It appears several feet away........" Severus Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I know it sounds silly.....but -"

"Sylvia.  Would you be so kind as to fetch our son.  I wish to stay here, and keep Miss Llewellen........company."  Sylvia rose from her chair.  While she was gone, Severus communicated through a very uncomfortable scrutinizing silence.

"Now Gwydian," addressing the little boy, who did look a little guilty and concerned.  The child that grew a wart - what was she doing when this occurred."

"She was being mean." Gwydian stated flatly.  "She was telling my friend she's not pretty, which is a lie, and not going to be invited to her birthday party with all the other girls in the class, she'll be the only one, and that was MEAN."

"I see.  Well, how did this wart occur?  Do you have any idea?"

"God gave it to her, because she was MEAN!"  Gwydian had been learning about God, as Severus and Sylvia had realised too late they had enrolled their son in a faith school, and what this actually entailed.

"A miracle of sorts," Severus supplied.

"Yes."

"Thank you, Gwydian, you may return to your classmates."

"You are right, he does seem conflicted," Sylvia spoke up.  "On one hand he felt the wart was a deserved punishment from God, and on the other hand, he likely still has some empathy for the perpetrator.   I fail to see, however, how he not being shocked means he was involved, given what you have been teaching him here, about God as some kind of magical being.  He is six, after all."

"If my son could make warts grow whenever he was annoyed with someone, many more people would be sporting warts........my wife and I for starters."
"We disappoint him regularly," agreed Sylvia.

The teacher looked like she was feeling foolish.

"I understand this is a school of faith," Sylvia continued.  "But perhaps let up on the God talk a bit.  He IS coming home with some rather fantastic ideas, because you are presenting this information as factual, and so, if miracles are real, for example, or if God is vengeful......"

"We talk plenty of the love and mercy of God"

"You told him a story in which God drowned all of the animals on the planet, save 2 of every kind, by a giant flood.  Only 2 goats saved.  Only 2 squirrels.  Only 2 of the fox, and so on.  He was distressed for days....." Severus pointed out.

"God gets mad at people for not living correctly, and drowns everyone, save Noah's family, including a planet full of innocent animals, and now you are suggesting that having Gwydian think about wanting to stop one of his classmates from being bullied caused a disfigurement.  Do you see how this is a rather cruel thing to put upon a child?  I think we are done here.  We will take Gwydian home now, we have a lot of explaining and debriefing to do....."

This was the first of a few dicey incidents, and the easiest to explain way. After three years, the Mathony-Snape family notified the school that they were moving, and had his records sent to a fictional school in Ireland. Instead, Gwydian settled in with his agemates in Draig Wen's day school, 2 months before his 9th birthday.  At least by this time, he was a little older, and not accidently providing detail about his life in the Realm.

The wizarding villiage children did learn reading, some basic information about nature, the names of the planets, and information about them, and simple maths.  In some ways, it was not that different from the muggle school, but Gwydian felt a bit more relaxed, at least everyone there knew about magic.

After he had been there about a month, a large, handsome Eagle Owl tapped smartly one of the library windows, where the small family had settled down for the evening, Gwydian at his own small desk, practicing writing with a quill and ink.  This was the one part of wizarding school he was not as fond of.

"Do you recognize the owl?" Sylvia asked.  Severus glanced up, the owl's glorious feathers were spread, back lit by the golden glow of the lowering sun, and was reminded briefly of when Imogene had visited him at Malfoy Manor, all those years ago.

"No, actually." 

 Sylvia opened the window, took the letter from the owl's outstretched leg, and sent Gwydian down to the kitchen for a treat for their visitor.  The owl waited, with dignity.  He took the treat politely from Gwydian's hand, hooted softly, and disappeared.

"Is it a party invitation?" Gwydian asked, as the envelope had a card like, festive look to it.  He had been invited to another child's birthday party recently.

"Let's see - it does look like it might be for children - no - baby - actually, it's a birth announcement."

"I didn't realize anyone we knew was expecting," Severus was losing interest.  Someone had a baby.  He didn't care.  He was working inventory for the month of November, which they would need flush stocks of several key ingredients heading into the Christmas season.

"Apparently, Harry and Ginevra Potter have added to their family," Sylvia looked at the announcement and wondered how on Earth she was going to break this news.

"And we warranted our own personal formal announcement?" Severus asked acidly.  "Or is this more of a warning?  Thank Merlin I am no longer teaching."

"We do get our own announcement.  You specifically."

"Very well.  Thank you for letting me know.  I have been.......informed."

"You are not even curious what they had?"
"Potter spawn.  They had Potter spawn. "

"Well to start with, they had another boy."

"Right.  The first one was called James.  How could I forget?  I think that was a name choice they should have just skipped, but I was not consulted."

"The second child has been named Albus ---"

Severus rolled his eyes heavenward.  "That poor child -"

"I'm not finished.  Albus Severus.  Albus Severus Potter."

The room was deadly silent.

"That was not necessary."

"And there is a photo...."

"That is quite enough for one evening.  Put it away."

"Shall we respond?  Offer our congratulations and best wishes?"

"Do as you wish.  Speaking of post, St. Mungos is asking for the recipe for the nerve regeneration brew.  They would like to buy it....."  Severus was desperate to change the subject.

"They have asked before," Sylvia remarked.  "I will not give it to them, because I do not believe they will source the animal ingredients without violence.  I see they are now asking you.  I have sold them enough for a year, but what I THINK is happening is some of this is being siphoned off, and sold on a black market and I believe some wealthy people are hoarding it.  Which is not great, as it is only shelf stable for about 2 years.  It will get wasted.  Not only am I not going to give them the recipe, I am going to make them account for every dose.  This is getting ridiculous."

Although Syliva had allowed the conversation to drift to other things, she quietly tucked the birth announcement away, and decided the moment had come to address the thresal in her marriage.

There was a process for opening up, never acknowledged, but always available, since their early days of courtship.  After Gwydian was put to bed, and had truly fallen asleep, and after they spent a few minutes tidying up, Sylvia mentioned she was going to relax in the bathing suite.  Severus knew he was being summoned, and why.  He responded first by procrastinating following her, then by participating in the lovemaking session but delaying climax as long as possible.  By this point, he was so familiar with her body he knew exactly how to draw out pleasure in the most delicious ways, and over 45 minutes passed before he would let her touch him at all.  By this time, they were out of the bathing pool, and on the lounging furniture that had been brought from the Realm, selected for its height off the floor a cushioning conducive to exploring fun positions 

When finally allowed, she did not respond as expected, instead of using the skill she had developed over time to drive him crazy, to make him experience the exiquisite torture of delayed gratification, she made eye contact, and stroked his face very tenderly, pouring out as much love as she could muster, touch by touch, kiss by kiss.  It was not a side of her he saw often at all.

At this point something inside of him just broke, and he allowed her to take over.  She finally restarted the lovemaking efforts, without dramatics, and straddling him, finished it all off gently, and decisively.  

After drying charms, and donning nightwear, they climbed into bed without speaking.  Severus was almost dreading the inevitable well placed, cut to the core question that was surely coming.  He did not trust his voice, and took the extra minutes to focus on gathering himself.

"The entire last school year at Hogwarts," Sylvia began, "Your life was being dictated by promises made to a cast of dead souls I could not see.  Even after you fulfilled these promises, some of these ghosts are still with us - only Dumbledore has returned to the Hallowed Realm of Souls, the others you have merely cast into some forgotten closet, like a bogart, and focus your attention on containing this bogart instead of banishing it.  And thus I am still somehow sharing your attention with a woman long dead, who has not been reflected in your Patronus for a decade.  I am not the jealous type, and I think I have been quite patient, but it is time for this to be put to rest.  It is affecting us.  It is affecting our family, always dancing around this thing in the background."

"You are not wrong.  I just don't know how to fix it.  And don't you dare suggest a mind healer....."

"No.  This is between you and Potter.  It needs to be solved between you and Potter."

"How?"

"You keep waiting for him to pop back into our lives, for you to have some responsibility for him, or need to express gratitude, after he stood up for you.  And there is obviously some guilt there for his parents' deaths, although you never quite explained that part to me.   Meet with him.  Apologize for whatever you did, thank him for the things HE did for you, and ask him to give you space.  Explain you had spent all of these agonizing years working to keep him safe, and at the end, aiding him in his assigned task, and ask for the gift of freedom.  Explain that continued communications are painful, and you would like to just experience the life that was denied to you for so long."

"Yes.  Those are indeed the things I want.  To settle the tab, and move on."

"Then ask for it.  Surely he will understand."

"Will you come with me?" Severus asked unexpectedly.

"To a point, I will.  I think myself and Gwydian will drive home the point of the life you have been trying to build outside of Hogwarts.  We will go, after the worst of the newborn stage has settled, call on the Potters to see your little namesake.  We will bring a gift.  Then you and Potter will withdraw, as I try to make dreaded small talk with Ginevra, and fuss over the baby, perhaps the older one.  Gwydian can bring James a small toy or sweet, that should pass a bit of time.  Then, after you have established some boundaries,  we will leave.  We will be cordial in the future, not weird, but for the most part, stay out of each other's lives."

"Very well.  That sounds achievable."  It would be irritating to have such a conversation, but it would be over in one afternoon, instead of an ongoing feeling of unexplainable dread every time Potter's name came up in any conversation.  For someone with limited social skills, Sylvia could be very wise when it came to managing such conflicts.  Once again, she had made numerous observations over a period of time before settling on the crux of the issue.  He had not been able to pin down the feeling that he somehow still owed Potter something.  He was uncomfortable with the thought that Potter was somehow suggesting he had a right to continue to be in Severus' life.  But likely, Potter was not trying to cause him further pain.  Perhaps Severus did need to spell out how he needed to go about that.

Of course there were no prams in the Realm, and young infants seldom left the family group quarters.  But by the time they could sit up, and their mother's were getting more stir crazy, the babies were frequently carried about tied to their mother's or auntie's backs, in swaths of cloth, woven with protective enchantments for safety and soothing.  It was too late to start on an infant swaddling - the Potter baby was already a month old when they found out about his existence, so they worked on a wrap instead, each working on an end and meeting in the middle to make the work go faster.  The relationship of namesake babies to the person who inspired the name was its own magic in the Realm, so Severus himself had to do most of the enchantments and a good bit of the weaving, but the experienced Realm Aunties helped quite a bit with advice.  Gwydian had received his wrap at his Welcoming Ceremony, so Sylvia had never really made one from scratch before.  And they chose to weave colors from all Hogwarts Houses into the wrap, in an almost rainbow effect.  Severus decided to make it long and wide enough for a man of Potter's size.  He could carry his child as well.  The wrap presented to himself and Sylvia had been too small for him, as it had never occurred to anyone in the Realm the sire would be carrying his own baby.  As irritatingly sentimental as the process was, he did want to acknowledge the Potters had named their child in his honor.  Hopefully, the wrap would stand in place of words that Severus would never utter aloud, and ease the message that he was not interested in further communications.

Sylvia had sent a note of congratulations, along with a message they would try to visit at a "less chaotic time".  Finally, in February, when the infant Albus was nearing an age to be able to use the wrap, another note was sent to the Potter home via Odyssey, a falcon from the Realm that had replaced Imogen after she had finally succumbed to old age.  Odyssey returned with a letter from young Mrs. Potter, suggesting a date and time.

And now they were getting ready.  Sylvia was usually a very no frills sort of wife.  She kept a tidy modest appearance, and seldom commented on Severus' choice of clothing.  Nor did she normally fuss much over what Gwydian wore, as long as it was clean and presentable.  But today, specific things had been laid out for them, with limited explanation.  They were not dressed up per se, but the items chosen were of decent quality and coordinated with each other.  The overall effect looked quite put together, smart even.  Shades of dark navy blue, lighter dusty blue, and grey prevailed.  Gwydian wore a jaunty little scarf of blue and dark green plaid.  It almost looked like they were going to pose for photos.  Nothing was fancy or posh, but all together Severus thought it was a little much.  He had not immediately noticed, because his cloak and robes were quite subdued, just not black.  But when he caught sight of his wife and son, he stiffened.

"Are we going out afterwards?"

"No.  We are emphasizing your life has moved on, you are no longer teaching at Hogwarts, you have a nice family, and no need for ............some type of extended family relations.  You are...........happy, or at least content with your life.  You are not lacking.  I think keeping a lower social profile has not painted a clear enough picture."

Playing a part.  A scenario that he was at least used to, and the happy little family scene was fairly close to the truth.  Like their wedding, Sylvia was dangling a piece of their life in view with the end goal of achieving some peace.

They had been given instruction to Floo to the foyer of Grimmauld Place, arriving at the specified time, gifts in tow, late morning.  The whole family was there to meet them, dressed more casual in muggle clothing.  The baby was in his mother's arms, looking at them curiously, with ruffled dark hair, and bluish green eyes.  His older brother clung to his dad's leg, peering around.

There was a few seconds of delay while the two families took each other in, and then Ginerva took charge, making her husband collect cloaks, and waving her wand to hang them all on a nearby stand.  The way she was bossing everyone around reminded Severus of watching her settle her tablemates during Potions class her fourth year.  He had actually been pleasantly surprised, as it seemed like each Weasley became more tedious the farther down the line they went. The first one was actually rather decent, but the second seemed a bit more scatter brained.  Then came the pompous, useless twat that was in Sylvia's year, then the ill behaved twins, and THEN Potter's best mate, who was so hopeless, Severus was filled with dread at what could possibly be coming next, perhaps another Longbottom. However, she turned out to be a student who was certainly not brilliant or even particularly talented, but was at least adequate, and encouraged her classmates to simulate semi civilized behavior.  The times she was not trying to force oafish Grydindors into submission,  he found her almost charming, although he had been a little dismayed when she started dating Potter.  He thought she could do a little better.

Her sixth year, she was a main source of information, as Sylvia had spent quite a bit of time spying on her, until she did not return after the Easter Holidays.  As intel about her escapades trickled his way, he got to know a little bit about her.  Attempting to steal the Sword of Gryffindor had been quite foolish, something her oafish brother would have done.  But most of her attempts were not as lacking in subtlety, and he could assist her occasionally, not that she ever found out about that.  He knew she had suspicions, however, when her punishment for attempting to steal the Sword of Gryffindor was to go out into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid.  But she kept her mouth shut about it.

So he had developed a grudging respect for Ginevra.  And Potter - Potter was not nearly as annoying as he could have been, considering the whole "Chosen One" status, and war hero.  And to be fair, Potter had provided key support after the Battle of Hogwarts, and kept him out of Azkaban.  AND supported him publicly when he married his former student, whom he impregnated while she was under his employ.  Severus tried to imagine what James would have done in the same situation, and he had to admit, in the end, Potter was not his father.  Fair was fair.  Potter did deserve some kind of.....acknowledgement.  What Severus was objecting to was a chronic sense of being indebted.  Being able to pin this down made him relax a little, enough to shake Potter's hand, friendly yet reserved.

The two families took each other in, curiously.  Baby Albus was the only one who had appeared to have been dressed for the occasion, in some sort of warm neutral oatmeal colored romper that looked like it was an expensive gift, and not something you would put an infant in for a casual weekend at home.  The baby was a curious little fellow, bright eyed and observant.  He allowed Sylvia to hold him for a few moments, grabbing onto her hair, and trying to put it in his mouth.  Severus tried to approach with reservation, reaching out  long fingers to pat the baby's hair, causing a heightened look of concern.

"You are wise to act with caution, Albus," Severus lowered his voice, "and not to jump in headfirst.  Perhaps there is more hope for you."  Potter and his wife chuckled politely.  Gwydian, who had plenty of exposure to infants in the Realm, engaged the baby a bit in a game of peek-a-boo.

Molly Weasley had been by, although she had not stayed to engage with the Snape family, correctly anticipating the meeting would be awkward enough without adding more to it.  But she had left a tea service, and Severus was relieved that Ginevra had not had to see to this detail.  He was not sure Potter even knew how to properly arrange a guest tea service.  There were child friendly options for Gwydian and James, in sturdy earthenware dishes, instead of china.  Ironically, the decorations depicted scenes of the Fae, including little fairies, and some quaint generic type of elf, almost as small as the toadstools they were pictured next to.  It was all very wholesome, easily digestible and appealing.  And it bought them some time.  Lead up to the main event, which was to bid Potter adieu.  

The Potter's must have come up with a predetermined list of polite topics.  The Auror Department had uncovered some mystery potions in the Ministry, left over from the Reign of He who did deserve a name, that had been previously overlooked, and were trying to figure out what they were for.    The discussion of possibilities took them through the first 40 minutes, and although Severus figured out early on one of the potions was a truth telling poison, likely procured in a frustrated response to Sylvia's tight lipped Versitaserum, he was able to drag out the conversation for a while.  Ginerva, it turned out, was not currently working, having dropped out of professional Quidditch when she was expecting James, but 

had applied for a job with the Prophet, as a sports writer.  This would be terribly dull occupation, as far as Severus was concerned.  As a matter a fact, although he was happy for the Potters - all of it was dull - maternity leave, the tedium of having a two year old, with an infant, and even Potter's job.  Severus had had enough of worrying about dark wizards, and was happy to pass that particular torch, and not have to concern himself any more with it.  No, he did not desire to continue a relationship with this family.   His own life felt much more satisfactory.  The apothecary had finally really taken off, and there was the interest of actually developing new potions, something he never would have had time for had he been forced to continue teaching.

Finally, when Baby Albus began to fuss, would not accept a nursing attempt, and James became restless, and Ginevra's forhead was creased in frustration, Severus stood up. 

"well, I think that is our cue, Potter.  Why don't you grab my little namesake, and we can take a turn around the garden?  I believe Sylvia and Gwydian brought a little something for James."

Potter seemed somewhat surprised his former professor was not fleeing at the first sign of an unruly child, but he took the baby from his wife, and he led Severus out to an outdoor patio that was warded from the later winter chill with some type of warming charm.  Toddler climbing toys were set up in a corner.  As the baby began to cry for unknown reasons, Severus removed the wrap from his robes.

"Here you go, Potter.  I'd suggest, given his age, settling him on your hip, until he's a little bigger." The piece of cloth snaked its way around around the baby, supporting him, distributing his weight, warming, even vibrating briefly for a couple of moments.  Potter blinked in surprise.

"There.  Now your hands are free to chase the other - spawn."

"Uh, thanks........."  Potter paused, unsure how to address him.

"Severus is fine for now."

"Did you make this thing?"
"With assistance."

"Brilliant.  I have never seen anything like it before.  Did you use one for your son?"

"We were given one for Gwydian, yes, but it only fit Sylvia.  And this one will only fit you.  It looks like young Mrs. Potter has quite enough to be getting on with...."

"That is true," Potter acknowledged.  "She also has other......advantages when it comes to being able to calm him.  Will it fit James as well?" 

"I had not really considered it, but it should; you would be able to carry him on your back.  But as a calming mechanism it will likely never work as well as it would for Albus, since it was made, with magic, and with intention for him, drawn on the magic of being a namesake."  Severus was morbidly curious about  how the wrap would interact with James, who was named after someone he still despised, but was tactful enough not to mention this.

Potter trailed one end of the cloth and looked at it more closely.  The fact that the weaving was not exactly perfect meant that it was likely handmade, and while obviously embedded with magic, not made by magic.  He recognized the colors uniting all of the Hogwarts Houses.

"I really appreciate it, the amount of work you have put into it, in particular.  I'm sure it must have taken quite a lot of time."

"It did.  I started it the week after we received your birth announcement.  But I'm afraid a request does come attached."

"OK," as in class, Potter looked like he was struggling a bit to catch up.

"You have been more than generous, Potter.  You seem to have afforded me at least some level of forgiveness for repeating the prophecy to the Dark Lord, resulting in the deaths of your parents.  Despite the treatment you received at my hands, you still stood up for me when the battle was over, without you, I would not be enjoying the life I have now.  And you assisted with publically celebrating our wedding, affording Gwydian a level of acceptance in the wizarding world.  And now your son shares my name, a high honor, especially given the number of people close to you, lives that were lost, that you had to choose from."

"You're welcome?"  Potter said, like he was guessing at what his line was supposed to be.

"So given all of that, this request may seem a bit selfish.  I have lived many years of my life with acute knowledge of your movements, your struggles, and with constant extreme concern for your well being.  Given years of my life to live with the disdain and distrust from those with whom I might have enjoyed close friendships, all to play a part.  There is a reason your mother in law did not stick around to catch up.  I did this to keep you safe.  To win the war.  To pay my debt to your parents.  I must admit, Potter, while I may have deserved all of this and more, I am a little exhausted from the burden of it."

"Do you still feel burdened?"

"Yes.  Every time your name, or family in general, comes up in conversation.  Every Christmas card.   Every mention of you or your friends in a Prophet article.  Makes me wonder when my responsibility and my guilt finally end."

"I would consider your debt, if you ever had one, paid back in full.  Sometimes I contemplate what might have happened if you did NOT join the Death Eaters, if you had not been in the position of double agent.  How many more lives would have been lost?  Which of my friends might not have survived?  How much longer would Tom stayed in power?  And the ........hatred you absorbed, from the side of the Light.  The darkness you were forced to endure........."

"Then, please, Potter, if you value those things, please consider.........setting me free."

"Free from what?"

"From obligation.  From feeling like there is some score not settled.  Some debt not paid.  I am grateful for all you have done for me, and for my family.  I wish your family well.  I am hoping to .......move on."

Potter considered his words and finally offered his hand, which Severus accepted.

"Oh course, if you need anything, you are welcome to owl."

"Likewise."

+++

"How did it go?"
"He took it gracefully.  I think he was a little disappointed, but I was able to make him understand."

"He has a lot of other people in his life, Severus.  He doesn't NEED you.  The wrap looked like it went over well.  I know Ginevra was pleased with it, especially when she found out it was only really fitted for Potter.  I'm guessing constantly having the baby shoved back at you, because you are the one with tits gets old when you also have a toddler clinging to you."

"It appeared to work well.  The sandbox?"

"It entertained him for the duration of the time, especially when Gwydian played with him.  I think between the two gifts, the poor woman will be able to use the loo in peace on occasion."

"I am not unhappy with our decision to just have the one child.  I do wonder sometimes if he is missing out....."

"He is not an only child the way you were.  He has an entire Realm full of children, human and otherwise.  Then he gets to escape to our home and get quite a bit of attention, from us, and his grandparents.  I think in some ways he gets the best of both worlds, really."

"That is a relief, because I do not want to endure what I just - the crying, whining.  Everything was sticky.  The parenting phase of having a young baby was quite intense.  The parenting phase of having a 2 year old was also consuming.  I am so glad we had the foresight not to experience both of those together."

"Yes.  I don't think that arrangement would have worked well for us.  You know, most elven women space their babies about 3-4 years apart?  I think that is partly because they don't feel the pressure to create a playmate for their first born, as the family pod usually provides this."

"That does seem a bit more civilized.  And I admit, it was challenging to keep Gwydian entertained as a toddler without his Realm mates...."

He still was not sure what he wanted to do after leaving Hogwarts, but strong proficiency with Herbology was in the cards.  His marks were solid - "O"s across the years.  Of course.  He was educated at home, for those first 11 years, and during school breaks.  He had O's in Herbology, Potions, DADA, Arithmancy, and Astronomy.  He took after his mother in Transfiguration, only getting an "A" in that class, although second year he had managed an "E".  "E" in Care of Magical Creatures, a class in which he put no effort, "E" in Ancient Runes, when he had time for it (Not this year) "A" in Muggle Studies, the year he took it, "E" in Charms, "P" in Divination, and to round it out, a "P" in History of Magic, the last 2 classes in which Weasley products were heavily utilized.  His fifth year schedule was Herbology, Potions, Arithmancy, DADA, Charms, Astronomy, and what would likely be his last year of Transfiguration.  These were the classes he would sit for OWLS.  And then, next year, it would be time to focus on honing in on a career.  He wanted to take the Apothecary to the next level.   The Lycanthropy vaccine had made a huge impression on him.  It was life changing for many people.  

So Herbology was a key class.  And recommendations and assistance from Professor Longbottom would be helpful.  The problem was that while Professor Longbottom was never unkind to him, he did not have the same enthusiasm that  other professors did for his education.  He did not treat other talented students in the class with the bland neutrality that Gwydian received, no, they got special attention, special pointers, extra time.  Gwydian was just another face what was really not that large of a sea of students.

Why?  It had been this way since the beginning, and Gwydian had no idea what caused his professor's displeasure.  Professor Longbottom was otherwise a very kind, attentive teacher.    There had been no falling out, or disrespect.  Gwydian was too self confident to have his feelings hurt, but he was puzzled.  This was a year the standoffishness needed to end.

And so he spent the summer boning up on Herbology, and spending time in various areas of the Realm to obtain some choice, rare samples, which he then patiently nurtured in the Greenhouse on the Mathony property.  It was the  beginning of August before his dad addressed it.

"That is the oddest assortment of plants," Severus said flatly, looking around the Greenhouse.  "And the Dryad's Ganoderma needs a completely different growing material, some sphagnum moss around it would really help."

"What type of soil?"

"Ideally less soil, and a dead or dying plant for it to grow on, preferably wood.  What are you doing, exactly"

"Preparing for OWLS."

"I don't believe most of these plants are on the OWL exam."

"No.  But they might be of interest to Professor Longbottom.  I don't know much about his personal stores, of course, but from information I have gathered, these may be plants that would be of interest.  Some of them take quite a lot of time to cultivate, and he doesn't seem to have a lot of that, now that he has little kids."

"Is it necessary to cultivate rare or labor intensive plants for Longbottom for your OWL exam?"

"It might be.  He doesn't like me, very much.  He isn't like.....mean.  He just mostly ignores me.  I don't know why.  So I thought, you know, I could make an effort....."  

Severus' face darkened, and Gwydian looked up questioningly.  But his father spun on his heel and departed the greenhouse without another word.

++++

The thoughts of Severus Snape

How dare he!  Longbottom was one of the most hopeless, ill prepared, least focused student Severus had ever taught.  Usually Herbology and Potions went hand in hand, and students that excelled at one, usually had a solid understanding for the other.  But Longbottom was the exception.  He did very well in Herbology - and never managed to apply what he had learned in the Potions classroom.  Severus considered it beyond disrespectful, the lack of preparation, followed by whinging.  Dressing him down did little to instill discipline, and Severus eventually just..........gave up, mostly.  It was not worth the frustration.

But he, as a parent, had appropriately prepared HIS son for school.  Gwydian was organized, attentive, impeccably polite, and very well prepared.  Socially he had been well trained by his grandparents to integrate into a group, and be a good teammate while maintaining modesty.   Severus had hand delivered on a platter the type of student he would have wished to teach, and Longbottom was........pouting.......

+++

While it was obvious his father knew the source of Professor Longbottom's apathy, Gwydian was smart enough not to ask him directly.  Obviously, just bringing up the topic touched a raw nerve.  So he decided to ask his mother instead.

There were definitely dark corners of his dad's past.  They came out at odd times.  Sylvia would pause and choose her words carefully, and sparingly when addressing these issues.  This time, however, she frowned, and looked a little confused.

"Longbottom..........he was in Hogwarts when I was, but he was several years younger.   He was rather a hot mess, as I recall.  Disorganized.  I didn't have any negative experiences with him, but your father was, of course, his Potions professor......."

"And if a student was a disorganized 'hot mess' in his class?"

"Yeah, that never went over well.  But Longbottom did end up killing the Dark One's pet snake, which was crucial to winning the war.  He is a war hero, in his own right.  I wished he had killed the snake BEFORE it bit your father, but still....."
"Professor Longbottom is a war hero?"
"Yes, same year as Mr. Potter and his friends.  One of the many Weasleys.  A girl that talked too much.  Your father wasn't terribly fond of any of them."

"The woman that is now married to my Transfiguration professor?  Madame Granger?"

"Right.  I had forgotten she is still around."

"She and Professor Longbottom take tea together sometimes.......Mom - was Dad, like an arsehole?"

"You mean, like more than he is now?"

"Wh- uh, yeah."

"He was," Sylvia confirmed.  "I believe he has decreased the amount of scathing remarks that come out of his mouth by a good, I dunno, 80% or more."

"Was this a strategic move, or do you believe he is actually repenent?  He looked almost --- guilty."

"I believe a little of both, dear."

There was no mistaking when his father was displeased.  The hard lines of his mouth.  The clipped tone.  A tense, cutting remark, usually followed by the silent treatment.  But Gwydian had never doubted his father's affection for him.  His father was not that affectionate towards many people, he realized.  Of course his mother.  And a cordial relationship with his grandparents.  He was quite polite to most people.  And he did have a few friends.  A couple of his former colleagues, a business associate he seemed rather fond of, and 2 couples his parents were both friends with in the Realm.  But the only other people besides his immediate family that he treated with actual genuine affection were Draco Malfoy and his young son.  It was likely he had no truly sentimental feelings towards any of his other former students.

Gwydian knew what it was like to be on the side of his father's displeasure only as a loved son.  Without that background?  Like if he didn't have that, and his dad was in one of his "mood's" every day?  Yeah, after several years of that, it was no wonder Professor Longbottom didn't feel any motivation to put effort into the son of a teacher that likely continually sneered at him.

Given this, sucking up with some plants seemed almost insulting.  Still, he hoped the efforts wouldn't all go to waste.  Perhaps if he just worked more on helping others around him.  Contribute to a more relaxed and helpful learning environment - the opposite of what his father had likely done.  Professor Longbottom would probably appreciate that more than plants.  And it would separate Gwydian from his father, which was obviously needed.

In the end, he decided he simply needed more information.  His mother barely remembered Professor Longbottom, and most of the people in his parents social circle were not close to that Hogwarts year, either.  His parents seemed to go out of their way to cultivate relationships with those not heavily involved in the war.   There was one exception, and that was Draco Malfoy, and so the only thing left to do was to call at Malfoy Manor.

Not teatime, surely.  This needed to be more of a man to man conversation, that did not involve Mr Malfoy's domestic life.   He was still too young for an evening firewhiskey call.  But a frank private conversation in Mr Malfoy's library, where he was most given to providing information and anecdotes in confidence would likely yield the most fruitful results.  In the end he decided to ask for assistance with upcoming course work to prepare for OWLS, choosing Astronomy.  This was a subject his parents were less interested in, and Malfoy Manor had much better equipment, and likely some texts in the library.  In truth the Realm was a great place for stargazing, and many of the Elders were quite knowledgeable about the subject, but of course Mr Malfoy did not know that.  So he owled his father's former student, basically manipulating an invitation to the Manor for the next meteor shower, which was in 2 weeks time.  

Draco Malfoy was not an idiot.  It was obvious the boy wanted to speak to him specifically, alone.  He allowed the situation to play out, and a house elf packed a picnic for them to view the meteor shower, in the wee hours, on the grounds.  He even managed to procure an OWL astronomy study guide, just for show.

They spent the first hour going over this study guide, and Mr Malfoy relayed what he could remember about his own astronomy OWL exam.  This would be something Gwydian could return home with and produce, if questioned.  But of course, Gwydian's parents were also not idiots, and likely realized the impromptu visit to Malfoy Manor had a different purpose.

So when Draco Malfoy slyly asked "Are you taking such care to prepare for all of your OWL exams," it was a perfect segway into the actual purpose for the visit.

"Not all of them, but several.  Potions will need no extra prep - I'm good there.  Transfiguration is my weakest subject, and I have had to take extra tutoring, so I have been doing that.  Professor Flitwick comes round for dinner, and has offered plenty of extra help with Charms.  Dad is a good resource for DADA.  I do need to plan out Arithmancy a little better, that will be my next focus.   But that leaves Herbology.

"Surely, not an issue.  Why your mother....."

"What I'd like to do is some extra NEWT projects with Professor Longbottom.  I need Herbology.  For pretty much anything I am interested in.  I need recommendations that are not from my parents."

"Is there an issue with Longbottom?"

"I believe so.  He has never warmed up to me.  He's not mean, but he is a lot nicer to nearly everyone else.  I think it might have to do with my dad, given the reaction I received when I mentioned Professor Longbottom's lack of interest.  I have the highest marks in the class if you don't count extra projects.  And I don't get the same opportunity as others for these extra projects.  I fear this might cripple me professionally, and would like to get ahead of the problem."

"I see."

"Professor Longbottom was in your year.  What was he like?  Did you have Potions with him?"

Mr Malfoy struggled to maintain a neutral expression and failed miserably.  Yes, there it was.  The crux of the problem.  Gwydian waited patiently.  When no more information was forthcoming, he helpfully poured the older man some firewhiskey from a nearby decanter.

"Is this why you are here?"

"I appreciate the extra help.  This study guide will be quite useful.  However, even MORE useful to my future endeavors....." Mr Malfoy held up his hand.

"OK, OK.  Yes.  Longbottom was kind of a.........."

"Hot mess?" Gwydian supplied helpfully.

"Yes.  Very hot mess.  An apt description.  For the first several years.  Always dropping things, losing things, untidy in his appearance, kinda chubby, nervous, unprepared for class, last to catch on, you get the idea."

"Did he have friends?" Gwydian asked curiously.

"He did, especially later on.  Potter, Weasley and Granger were always nice to him, although he was not exactly in their group.  That is the best I can say.  There were certainly people who were pleasant to him, and included him to an extent, but not as best mates.  Not until, oh, fifth or sixth year or so.  By 7th year, with Potter and his friends gone, Longbottom did become quite popular.  But the entire atmosphere of the school was way too unpleasant for him to remotely enjoy this.  It was more of a student leadership role."

"And Potions class?"

"It could only have been an incredibly miserable experience for him.  Your dad was relentless.  Longbottom could not execute the simplest task.  He was your father's main target of ridicule, after Potter.  He had some sort of meltdown at least once a week."

"That is unfortunate.  And unnecessary.  What did Dad hope to accomplish?"

"An outlet for his frustration, I suppose.  The exchanges provided entertainment for the Slytherins, to be sure.  He did not treat Slytherin unprepared, dimwitted students similarly."  Mr. Malfoy paused, looking uncertain.  "And then there was an incident, I guess you'd call it with Longbottom's pet toad."

"Was Dad mean to the toad?" Gwydian was confused.

"Yes, actually.  We had been given an assignment to make a shrinking solution.  Cant remember what year it was, but we were about, I dunno, 12 or 13 I guess.  Anyway, Longbottom was struggling as he always was.  Your father told him he was going to feed his end product to his toad.  If he had brewed in correctly, the toad would be fine, and could be restored with the antidote.  If not - no more toad.  And the way Longbottom's brew was coming along, chances were very high his pet was not going to survive."

"Merlin, that is terrible!  What happened?"

"You know Madame Granger" Gwydian nodded. "She was in that year as well.  She kept whispering instruction to Longbottom to fix his potion, even after your dad told her not to.  But she was successful.  When the potion was finished, your dad fed it to the toad, who turned into a tadpole - and back again after he was given the antidote.  Granger - had - I think house points taken?  Maybe detention?  Don't remember.  Anyway, it was traumatic, and I ashamed to admit, I thought it was hilarious at the time, as did many others, who laughed at poor Longbottom's discomfort...."

"That is ........disappointing......to say the least"  Gwydian was more than a little shocked, and tried to assimulate what he had just heard.

"You have my sympathy there.  My own father did much worse things that I am not proud of."

"Do you take on any personal responsibility for trying to undo any of the long term damage?"

"An interesting question.  I guess to an extent I do.  I certainly am raising my own son very differently.  I have apologized to many I personally have wronged, due to my upbringing, but I haven't gone around making amends to everyone my father has hurt, no.  That is his responsibility."

"My father is a rather damaged person."

"He is.  But considering where he came from, he has done very well.  Your mother didn't change him, exactly, but she helped tone him down quite a bit.  He is not the same person.  Not only because of her, but because he has had years to recover from pretending to serve an insane master.  And being Dumbledore's puppet was not a picnic either.  He has been able to build a life of his own choosing, this last 15 or so years.  That has helped a lot."

"I guess I should be grateful I got the edited version of him then," said Gwydian thoughtfully.

"And another thing," Malfoy remembered.  "Herbology Class was somewhat of a sanctuary for Longbottom.  A port in the storm, so to speak.  He may not perceive you are in need of such nurture."

"That's it." Gwydian said.  "He is not just teaching the nurture and harvest of plants, he is nurturing students."

Mr. Malfoy did not respond, but raised his glass of firewhiskey in a sort of salute.

"That is what I am doing wrong," Gwydian realized.  "I thought it was about plants...."

+++++

The thoughts of Professor Neville Longbottom

The year we had the first class of immediate post war babies, the long term effects of said war were starting to sink in more.

It was a SMALL group of students. Every life born during such a time is especially precious.  And they were a very different group of students.  Almost immediately, they were close knit.  Quieter.  More mature, and less ......petty than previous generations.  However, amongst many of them was this undercurrent of anxiety that never really went away.

Amongst the class was, of course, Gwydian Mathony-Snape.  Yes, he went by both names, which was quite a mouthful.  I will admit, there was something melodic about the combination. There was no question which student was the son of Severus Snape. Shoulder length ebony black hair, and dark eyes set in his face the exact same way.  But his hair was more coarse, and curled a little, and his eyes were dark brown not black, nose distinctive, but not quite as pronounced.  His cheek bones were higher, face a little longer.  And he carried himself quite differently, with reserved confidence, but without any kind of chip on his shoulder.  It made me wonder what his father had been like at 11, before growing into a dark menacing bully.

He was in Slytherin. Of course.  But Slytherin was not the House it once was.  I had noticed that over time it had received many students who might have otherwise been sorted into Ravenclaw.  As a sidenote, Hufflepuff had also changed quite a bit.  Once it took the misfits.  Now it specialized more in those who were willing to stand up for former misfits, and integrate them.  Inclusion warriors, of sorts.  And Hufflepuff now firmly expected all the other houses to share in the including.   So all of the Houses had become a bit more empathetic over time.  Slytherin was forced to use its tendency towards being psychoanalytical to manipulate others into figuring out how to integrate these former wound be Hufflepuffs into their own House.  So being Sorted into Slytherin didn't come with the same prejudice it had in my day.  That's what I tried to tell myself, watching the son of a man I hated my entire time sporting his green and silver tie.

Of course, Mr Mathony Snape was an exemplary herbology student.  How could he be anything else, with his parents being who they were?  His mother had become quite well known over the years, and had even started to make professional waves before her marriage, as an up and coming protege.  And after the war, she went from known in professional circles to a sought after expert in her field, ethical and quality procurement of apothecary ingredients, a field which she actually helped develop.  If she had not been married to Severus Snape, I would definitely have worked to establish a relationship.  I did read all of her published works, which appeared in professional journals with some regularity, especially the last 8 years or so.

And now their son is here, in my class.  He is polite, but not super friendly.  Reserved, but not not elusive.  He is not snide, or snarky towards his peers, but he does seem to have some long term, likely self serving agenda.  He is very careful in who he befriends.  I have heard his mother is similar, and less social overall.  I guess that is a reason I have not really warmed up to him, the way some of my colleagues have.  He contributes to the academic experience of class to be sure.  He raises his hand sparingly but regularly, and offers good insights without really showing off.   But he did not really give of himself, certainly not to others in any meaningful ways that I could see.  I suppose he turned out the best I could hope for under the circumstances.  Did I expect someone raised by Severus Snape and his notoriously introverted wife to be warm and fuzzy?  His fellow students accepted him as he was, which was a culture change in and of itself.  I had all four Houses in my class at the same time, as the students in that year were so few, and they did not group themselves together by House.  Mr Mathony Snape shared a table with 2 Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw.  Out of the other children I saw him interact with, his closest friends were two Hufflepuffs, both loyal, quiet lads.   Over time it occurred to me that others wanted to interact with him largely out of curiosity.  He was the son of the infamous Death Eater, turned spy, turned unlikely war hero, and his father's legend grew larger with every passing year.  I could see why he would choose only a few close friends that were not prone to gossip.

But while I appreciated the sacrifices that Severus Snape had made to bring down Voldemort, I did not respect him as a man.  He treated me terribly.  He was a bully.  Being a war hero did not erase everything he had done before.  After being repeatedly belittled, over the course of years, I was not quick to embrace his child, but it did soothe my soul just a bit to hear him address me oh so respectfully as Professor Longbottom.   I did not treat him badly, as Snape had done to Harry and myself, but I did largely ignore him.  He had to notice, but he handled this with grace, and without any sense of entitlement, or apparent blow to his self esteem.  That was uncomfortable at times, as if he had won some sort of moral victory.

Some of the other professors were much more enchanted by him, Filius in particular.  He was, as it turned out, Mr Mathony-Snape's godfather, and was particularly close to Madame Mathony Snape.  She had been in his House, after all, and was a protege of her time.  But as childish as it sounds, I saw my class as a haven for the slow to blossom, clinging to the fringes of the school's social hierarchy.  I did not need to be another notch in the belt of a student who was well established, with multiple opportunities.  That was not where I wanted to put my efforts as a professor.  Herbology is, especially the early years, a low pressure class dedicated to nurture, as opposed to immediate pressure to produce magic in front of one's peers.  In a group of post war students silently plagued by anxiety, I don't think it would be out of line to say it is healing.  And if Mr Mathony-Snape needed such nurturing healing, he certainly did not let on; he presented as among the most confident and least bothered of students.  Quiet confidence without any over inflated ego.  He made the Quidditch team his fourth years as a Chaser.  Not traditionally handsome, nonetheless a striking looking lad.   He could have been popular if he had put more effort into it.  He didn't seem to think he needed such a thing.

I was not interested in any kind of relationship with this young man.  And Harry confessed to his own father's misdeeds, I  developed a bit of an understanding as to why Snape never warmed up to Harry.  As Dumbledore once told him "some hurt runs too deep for the healing"....or something like that.

The thoughts of Minevra Mcgonagall

It was not a good time for an urgent, private meeting with Filius and Poppy, but they insisted.  Hagrid's niffers had gotten the Gryfindor girls' dormitories and had raided the 4, 5, and 6th years before they were caught.  The fallout was many heated conversations with the parents of those affected, as well as an investigation into HOW a niffler got into the Gryffindor tower which had involved several dead ends, and a bit of sadness.

Fred Weasley had entered Hogwarts last year.  I understand the sentimentality behind his name, but I wish they had chosen something else.  Fred, who enjoyed an occasional lighthearted prank, did not make mischief his entire persona.  His main love was Quidditch, and he spent quite a bit of time practicing, even though he was not on the team yet.  He was not a stellar student in many areas, but he was rather interested in history, and spent a fair amount of time reading.  He had been sorted into Hufflepuff.  He was a target in this investigation, which I do not feel was deserved, and diverting from time spent looking for the actual culprit.

I had just sent off my 11th owl of the day when Filius appeared, followed by Poppy, followed by both of them demanding I open my floo in the Headmaster's office for Severus Snape, of all people.  I had only seen the man briefly the entire time his son had attended Hogwarts, and we had not exchanged more than a handful of words.  We had certainly not had any kind of in depth conversation about young Mr. Mathony-Snape's education, it appeared that privilege was reserved for Filius only.  Not even Professor Beckwith, his Head of House, had spoken much with former Headmaster Snape.  

To be fair, I had not exactly extended much beyond the barest of olive branches myself.  I was a bit embarrassed to realize how much Severus had accomplished right under my nose in managing to deflect any real harm from the students.  The Cruciatus Curse whose pain described by the students nowhere matched the intensity of the screaming.  The sudden appearance of new school uniform cloaks, followed by jinks not seeming to have nearly the punch as before.  The way Severus never quite seemed clever enough to determine the location of the missing students.  The number of students assigned detentions to be supervised by Hagrid.  I can't believe I did not know.

So I felt uncomfortable facing him again.  If there was a matter with young Mathony-Snape so serious that necessitated Severus to appear at Hogwarts in person, I could only hope no one in the school had any kind of culpability.  The lad was hardly a trouble maker - there had never been an owl sent home.

Severus did not appear particularly happy when he stepped out of the fireplace.  He had changed a little.  He was as lean as ever, but did appear much healthier than that fateful school year, where he had been as pale as a ghost, with a wasted look.  He actually had some color, like he actually spent time outside, which I attributed to his need to grow and harvest his own ingredients.  His hair was streaked liberally with grey.  He was still mostly in black, but not wearing the same clothes he had worn for his 15+ years as a professor.  There were a lot less buttons, for starters.  I tried to gauge his mood.  He looked resolute, like he had to accomplish a mildly unpleasant task, as if lunch was over, and he was heading off to teach Potions to the 2nd year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.  Not like he was being denied the opportunity to watch Potter suffer .  I relaxed a little.  We exchanged stilted greetings, and I asked them all to sit down.  Flilius took the lead, levitating himself into a chair that was too high for him.  Poppy sat back towards the corner of the room, obviously hoping she would not need to participate.  Severus took the remaining seat directly in front of my desk.  I saw him glance up at Albus' portrait, and then look away without any kind of acknowledgement.

"I will need to remove my son from school as soon as we conclude this meeting," Severus informed me.  He looked direct and unapologetic.  "I hope to return him on Sunday evening, in time to settle in for his Monday classes.

"This is a 7th year student with many heavy NEWT classes," I pointed out.  "That would not be an advisable course of action, as you well know."

"Believe me, it will be much more disruptive to his studies and to your school if I do not remove him," Severus said smoothly.  "After you agree to this, I will provide information on how the niffer situation occurred."

"was YOUR SON involved in that?  Because if he was, he is not going anywhere - he will have deten-" Severus held up a hand.

"All in good time.  If you possessed reasonable observation skills, we could delve into this story, but as it is clear you do not, I shall have to explain from the beginning."

"Very well, go ahead, do try to be brief."

"I will remind you I am not given to rambling.  Did it ever occur to you why my wife, and my son after her did not seem to possess any talent for transfiguration?"

"It did,"  the question surprised me.  I never expected it to be answered, but here we were.  What this had to do with the niffer, I had no idea.

"My wife is only partially human.  She belongs to a species of Fae that actually have extraordinary transfiguration skills, but instead of transforming one object into another, or animals into objects, etc, she can transform her own body into what naturally occurs within nature.  She can turn her arm into a branch for example, or her body into rocks.  She can transform into water, or even wind if a pressing occasion presents itself.  This is a very different type of magic than turning a gerbil into a wine glass.  All of your ramblings and explanations did not translate for a student who regularly transformed her very essence.  My son is the same."  Somehow I was not surprised to find out the answer to the question of "why could Sylvia Mathony not transfigure gerbil into a wine glass to save her life?" was an unstated but loudly inferred "her transfigurations skills are actually too extraordinary to be bothered by something so trivial"

He paused to give me time to digest this.  Once again - well when he said I was not observant, in this case he was not wrong.  Others had described bits and pieces of Sylvia Mathony's abilities - her hand to a branch to work with a dangerous plant in Herbology.  Melting into the very walls of the castle - I thought she was merely dissolutioning herself.  I had not paused to consider.....and of course, her appearance.  Any one of her odd features might have been explainable as just part of the randomness of human genetics, but all of them together - was there a species with her bone structure, her facial features?

"What kind of Fae?"  I asked him.

"One that functions as guardians of forests," the briefest of explanations.  A Dryad perhaps?  Some sort of Wood Sprite?   "They have not lived among wizards for hundreds of years.  There is a statue of secrecy...."

"Then why is your wife here?"  I asked, a little too bluntly.  I was ready to get to the bottom of this.  We are not friends, Severus and I.  At one time we had been friendly rivals, but that time was long gone, eroded by secrecy and lack of trust.

"And now we are into the crux of the matter.  This species was in danger of becoming extinct.  That is why my wife was conceived.  She has a human mother, her original father is a member of the Fae, and has died from a genetic disease.  Mr. Mathony is Sylvia's stepfather, and claims her as his own to help protect her kind from discovery.  Now.  This is important.  In order to prevent the species from dying off, it has evolved so that each member has an uncontrollable biological urge to procreate - for males this happens at their sexual maturity.  For females, it happens when a genetically desirable mate has been established.  Gwydian is experiencing this overwhelming impulse to produce offspring.  He cannot control it.  He must return to his world, where a suitable female will be waiting for him."

"You want to remove your 17 year - no I guess now nearly 18 year old son from school for the weekend so he can pursue fatherhood?  Several months before his graduation?  Have you lost your mind?"  I could not believe what I was hearing.  Severus' expression darkened.

From the corner of the room, Poppy held up a weak hand.

"My advice is to allow this to proceed, Minevra.  I have measured his hormonal levels - they are off the charts.  This will not end well.  If you do not let him go, I will have to sequester him.  Who knows how much school he will miss if I have to do that...."  I did consider this.

"Is your son really not able to control himself?"  I queried my former colleague.  He looked murderous.  Filius stepped in rapidly.

"MIN. EV. RA!  This is beneath you.  Put the past behind you for a moment to consider the issue in front of you now.  These beings have evolved this way because their very existence depends on every member procreating as early as possible.  No, Mr. Mathony-Snape cannot control his ingrained biological instincts for the survival of his species."

"Are you going to relate this back to the niffer?" I asked.

Severus and Filius exchanged a glance.  Finally, Severus said,

"We don't yet have the full story, but it has something to do with luring a Griffindor young lady back to the Gryffindor Tower, and lay in wait, and  when she makes an appearance, perhaps request her company for a period of time."

I shook my head.  One problem with being Headmistress is that I could not just enjoy this story, and snicker into my tea, but figure out how I could spin this to the numerous parents I answered to.

"what AM I to tell the parents?" I wondered aloud.  Severus shot me a rare look of sympathy.

"You can create a story that is reasonably close to the truth.  Instead of raging hormones of a member of an ancient race, I might say someone was accidentally dosed with love potion, and the object of this person's misplaced affection resided in the Gryffindor dormitories.  The perpetrator is actually a victim in his own right, and thus his privacy will be protected."

"That might work....I will at least be able to clear the name of the innocent public suspect"

"I need to collect my son."

I had many more questions - none of my business, but the well being of one of my students was possibly in danger, so I decided to ask the most pressing one.

"Before I agree to this.  One more question.  How does Gwydian (it felt weird to say his given name outloud, but I wanted Severus to hear it.) feel about fatherhood at such an early stage.

"He is essentially more of a sire than a father," Severus explained.  "He is not, in his culture, expected to rear his young."
"And he is OK with this?"

"His feelings are perhaps a little conflicted, and beyond the understanding of any of us.  But more than anything, Minevra, he comprehends that it's not about him."  The unsaid sentence, and stop making this about you.  It would be a wise time to end the conversation. 

"Where IS he, now that you mention it?"

"Secured in the come and go room," Filius piped up

"Very well, you may escort Severus there.  Poppy, a word if you please."

"Do you think this is wise?"

"I think it is the only viable option."

"Merlin's Beard," I suddenly realized.  "We always wondered why they had that baby so soon........well, it wasn't all that soon, was it."

"Not for this species, from the sounds of it," Poppy agreed.  "I believe Gwydian would have been born when his mother was about 23......She graduated at 18, it's not exactly like they rushed it.

"How long do you think it was before they got together?"

"I don't know, I think they waited for years, but once they decided to have a relationship, things moved rather quickly.  It must have happened not long after he recalled her to the castle.  Nothing like a war to compel one to sort out their life priorities....I'm guessing it was a turning point when she continued to trust him after Dumbledore's death."

"I wonder how she knew......"

"I am pretty sure she already knew Albus was dying.  She did ask me some pointed questions about his arm.....of course she had graduated, but there is a group of staff she still corresponded with.  Severus, of course.  Filius.  Padmona.  And I think Septima."

"I didn't realize she kept in contact with so many people."

"Oh, yes.....I think she would have made quite an academic name for herself, but due to the circumstances deflected attention away from herself.  If He Who Did Not Deserve a Name ever looked into her real heritage....."

"Nonetheless.  I cannot believe I just agreed to allow her son to leave the school so he can copulate....."

"Would you keep an adolescent male Hippogriff on the grounds, in rut with no way to satisfy its instincts?"

"We are talking about student not an animal!"

"Very well.  Would you keep a student with Lycanthropy in class during a full moon?"

"no.  I guess not."

"There are plenty of female students who are enamored with him.  This would not end well.  If you are uncomfortable with the fallout of a niffer or two.....imagine the drama of Severus' Snape's son shagging his way through the 6th year Gryffindor Girls Dorm.....and resulting pregnancies....that resulted in whatever Fae gene he is carrying"

"Thank you, Poppy that will do."  She had made her point, and she was not wrong.

++++

Eryri (genetically matched with Gwydian, as a priority for a breeding female needing genetic diversity)

I am, like Sylvasaya, a female woodland elf, expected to breed.  But our lives could not be more different.

Mr. Mathony-Snape was returned quietly on Sunday evening, via floo in the Slytherin Common Room after most of the students had gone to bed.  By this time, the love potion rumor had gotten out, and the students connected this with the sudden disappearance of this normally diligent student.  He had missed classes from Thursday afternoon, all of Friday, and all of the work he normally would have done over the weekend, and thus was a fair amount behind.  He did not have time to indulge himself in being pulled into this drama, and largely ignored the whisperings, the teasing questions.  Severus had mentioned if his son was not able to focus, he may need to return to wherever it was that his chosen mate was waiting for him, but that did not happen.   By Wednesday evening, it appeared that things had settled enough for him, and I discreetly called him to my office, after a make up session with Professor Beckwith, away from eager ears.

"Your father filled us in a bit when he removed you from school"  I began, after formalities had been observed.  

"Yes, ma'am."

"How are you settling back in?  Do you need anything?"

"It was a bit disorienting, to be honest," Mr. Mathony-Snape acknowledged smoothly.  "But it gets a little better every day.  I have already owled my parents that I will not need to return next weekend.  With luck, success was achieved, and the rest of the school year will go smoothly."  A neat summary.

"Did your father fill you in on the explanation provided to the school for the niffer in the Gryfinndor girls' dormitories?"

"He did.  I thought it was a clever compromise.  There has been some gossiping, some taunting.  But I have been too busy catching up to pay much attention to it, let alone entertain drama."  I realized as he spoke I had not heard him say this much, especially not since his voice had matured.  His inflections were quite similar to Severus, as well as his ability to engage without revealing anything I didn't already know.  Same dignity, with his mother's indifference thrown in.  He was missing the biting sarcasm.  Without it, the deep tones of his voice were much more charming, along with an appearance that while not conventionally attractive, was appealing in its own way, and a little mysterious.  I could see why Poppy was concerned.  From the prefect's reports, he was generally in his dormitory by curfew, and by habit did not spend time alone with the young ladies.  He had female friends, not close ones.  When he did spend time with them, it was in a group setting.

"I hope that you are correct, and that there will not be the necessity for you to be separated from Hogwarts again, outside of the normal holidays.   However, if something like this DOES come up again, I would like to be informed before a niffer becomes involved.  Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," the young man responded automatically, this time channeling his mother.  Ohhh, that bland deference.   He might as well as screamed "I will only if it is convenient."

"Yes, ma'am you will come to my office immediately if...."

"Yes, ma'am I will report to the infirmary.  To Madame Pomphrey."

"I would prefer......"

"I consider your request unprofessional.  This is a medical issue.  Do you have any other students reporting to you with their medical concerns?"  His voice sharpened considerably, and I had a sensation of waking a sleeping manticore.

"Detention for addressing me in such a fashion......"  He looked amused.

"Detention?  Really?  I wish I was a fly on the wall when your owl arrives at our home."  

"Mr. Mathony-Snape.  Until now, your behavior at this school has been exemplary to the point of being calculating.  Surely you do not wish to risk your future endeavors with a disciplinary record so close to graduation."

"I think I have been treated with prejudice by a not insignificant minority of your staff and fellow students, and you have turned a blind eye.  Any investigation into my behavior will only aid to shine a light on yours.  I should not be punished for events that occurred before I was even born."

"What on Earth are you referring to?  I have not received any kind of complaint of any persecution......."

"I think persecution would be an overly dramatic interpretation.   I am not a 4th year Hufflepuff girl.  I'm talking more about being excluded from certain academic conversations, advanced projects, lack of acknowledgement of my contributions, withholding feedback, and just a lukewarm reception in the classroom setting.  Despite, as you put it, my "exemplary behavior" which I believe includes "exemplary marks" in a variety of subjects that are the result of "exemplary study habits and efforts". No, I will not come to you with personal information.  You have done nothing to warrant such trust.  I wish it had not been necessary to involve you at all. "  This was followed by nearly a minute of silence as I tried to take in what he was saying.

"What on Earth are you referring to?" 

"Let's start with the fact this is the longest conversation we have ever had in the past 6+ years I've been here.  Longest, by far.  I don't believe you have ever done more than wish me a good morning in passing.  You have met personally with nearly everyone else in my year, to ask them how everything is going, to establish a repore.  First group of war babies, and all.  There are not that many of us."

He was not exactly wrong.  He was not the only one for whom I made no effort, but he was one of the few students who seemed at ease and well adjusted.  I focused my efforts elsewhere, as there were numerous students with very high anxiety.   Had the other professors behaved similarly?  Surely not all of them - Filius would not - Septima very much enjoyed having him in class, this I knew.  Buttttttttttt......Neville.  Oh, dear.  That was likely an uncomfortable situation.  I mentally ran down the list of all of his professors, and their possible ties to Severus.

"A clean disciplinary record is not an asset when it is not supported by advanced projects, apprenticeships, and recommendations." This statement filled the silence.  I gathered myself.

"Your father is, unequivocally, a war hero.  He  sustained a level of bravery none of us can begin to imagine.  Not just brave acts during battle, but in danger for his life, every day, day after day, month after month.  He endured it for a greater good, a greater cause.  He is a deeply good person.  But, I'm sorry to say, he was not a nice person."

Mr. Mathony Snape looked less angered, and more interested.  I continued.

"I don't believe he has done anything to make amends for how he treated people.   People who were once vulnerable children, who will never forget how he made them feel."

"And yet, I am not him," he pointed out.

"No.  But you resemble him, not exactly, there is certainly some of your mother in there, but enough to give people who have had difficult experiences with him pause."

"Do I give you pause?" 

"To a certain extent, yes.  You say you are not him, and that is obviously true.  And yet, he raised you.  And in your very bearing, it is evident that a piece of him is in you.  There is always a sense you are holding something back..."

"Very well, we will go there.  Let's talk about him.  Let's start with the big difference between my two parents.....  We live very close to my grandparents, my mother's mother and adoptive father, with whom she grew up.  The relationship is close.  We see them several times a week.  At my grandparents' house are things like picture albums - pictures of my mum as a child, playing with the other villiage children.  Pictures of her with animals.  Pictures of her in various relative's laps.  Pictures of her in her Hogwarts uniform, waiting on Platform 9 3/4 at age 11.  A similar annual photo on through 7th year.  Christmases.  Easter Holidays.  Summer Holidays on a Greek Island......There are momentos, awards, documents outlining her first steps, her first accidental magic.  Details of her trip to get her first wand.  Even her first words.  I have cousins on that side, a few aunties and uncles, in addition to my grandparents.  We live close to  the villiage both she was raised in, full of people who watched her grow up, who can say I remember when.....  And yet - on my father's side -"

My heart stopped.  I did not want him to continue.

"On my Dad's side there is nothing.  No grandparents.  No relatives.  No photos.  No momentos.  Nothing saved.  Just whatever books he was able to salvage from his parent's home.  A few potions supplies, old cauldrons, stirring rods, and the like.  That's it.  And that makes me wonder......at Hogwarts, did anyone notice?   Notice he was not being parented to any degree?  Do anything to stop the bullying I have heard from those in the know?  Notice the scars?  Wonder why he was so defensive.  Encourage his future?  Try to make him........welcome......"

"I'm sure -"

"Yes, perhaps there were brief attempts here and there.  But no sustained effort.  Let me tell you, Headmistress, among MY people, no one is left behind in such a manner.  Everyone has a place.  Everyone.  Young men, in particular, are never left to their own devices.  Nor are they left to chance that their own father will show interest in them.  No.  Every young man is mentored, directed, challenged, and ultimately accepted by groups of adult males, who work to ensure that everyone has a place, a purpose.  By the time they are Hogwarts age, they are spending more time away from their family home, matched with males with complementing talents and temperments to begin the process to find their place by the time they become of age.   If Severus Snape did not grow to integrate into your community as you desired, perhaps look inward to determine why not.  You were there, while it was happening.  I WAS NOT EVEN BORN!  And yet, I am the person who has perhaps experienced the fall out from your collective failure.  That you are for some reason, to some degree blaming me for.  While you continue to benefit from all the sacrifices he did make for this school, and for the war."  and with that, he turned and left, not waiting to be dismissed.

I was left stunned.

+++++

"It has been suggested that Mr. Mathony-Snape is not receiving the level of professional attention one would expect for a student of his caliber, and his year."

Neville had the grace to look a little guilty.

"There may be some truth to that."

"Has he behaved in such a manner to deserve this treatment - or lack there of"

"No, not really."
"What does not really mean, exactly?  Is he respectful?"
"Absolutely."

"Does he participate in class?"
"Yes.  He provides thoughtful answers when called upon."

"Does he raise his hand, or only participate when prodded?"

"He raises his hand occasionally.  Not as often as some of the other high performing students."

"No doubt he has been firmly instructed to give the other students a chance to shine.  Is he gracious to his classmates?"

"He is polite.  He shares work space.  He opens up his body language when others approach his table and seem to want to join a discussion or activity in progress.  He does not put others down.  When asked a question by a peer, he will try to assist, to a point."

"At what point does he lose interest in the interaction?"

"When the conversation becomes less academic, and the person seems to be trying to befriend him."

"While I will not be able to provide much information on this matter, I will say he has some reasons for being selective with his friendships."

"Yeah.  I wondered about that.  Some of the people seem more curious about him than kind.  He shuts that down pretty quickly."

"We have exchanged some words.  He has accused me of allowing prejudice against him to go unchecked."

"Did he mention Herbology specifically?"
"No, because it seemed to be more than one class.  Not all of them obviously.  He called it a "significant minority", and suggested it was affecting his future."

"I know it's not his fault really................it's just - Professor Snape -"

"Was a right git to you.  That is not a secret.  But the conversation became uncomfortable when I suggested that Severus' lack of interest in making amends, and that his inability to a be kind person, even though he fought bravely for the Light, was contributing to the situation...............I, well, he......er, that is to say, I got schooled.  I don't remember the last time I was dressed down in such a manner.  Certainly not by a student."

"What did he say?"

"He pointed out that Severus had been raised in this castle, under my watch, and that I had done nothing to make his life easier.  And his life was obviously hard.  He mentioned several things, among them no surviving photos or mementos from his father's childhood, and no living relatives, negligent parents, and we did nothing here at Hogwarts to effectively integrate Severus, and instead turned a blind eye to those that excluded him."

"Is that true?"
"It is, unfortunately. Of course at some point, Severus himself has to claim responsibility.  He has not really done so.  Still, I have reflected on the matter, and the only conclusion I can rightly come to is that we are being unfair to Mr. Mathony Snape.  He is correct in the two essential points of his arguement - he is not Severus, and he has not behaved in such a manner as to warrant his current treatment.  When those two points are correct, I must concede his concluding point- that our behavior is affecting his future options.  We must rectify the situation.  Not only because it is the right thing to do, but because if there were an investigation I fear we would not come across in a positive light."

"I guess, he is technically, the son of a Death Eater.  That does give him certain protections.  I didn't think he wished to advertise himself in such a fashion, though."

"Right now, he has the upper hand, and he doesn't need to.  Please adjust your demeanor towards Mr Mathony Snape and his classroom opportunities accordingly."

Gwydian did not return the following weekend.  By Wednesday, he owled his father, and said that he was much better able to attend to his studies.

After the obligatory three weeks had passed, Sylvia crossed back to The Realm and confirmed with the Elders the mating was successful.  Shrewdly, she sent word to four total, so Sabien and Paux could not operate in secret. Aneirin , the second highest in the council, was the senior elder present, and basically held court.  Sylvia deferred to him, barely able to contain her amusement.

They sat around the Pentagon Table in the Elder's hut. Aneirin  ceremoniously poured their well loved drink, the alcoholic beverage that tasted faintly of heather and wild honey.  They used it for a variety of things - to provide a quick boost of strength, to calm nerves, treat a sore throat - and it was celebratory.  It was served in wooden goblets.

"A highly anticipated mating,"  Aneirin began, "Over 60 years in the making.  With this fourth generation, 2 goals were accomplished.  First,  The genetic wasting disease has been eradicated from this specific family line.  Second, This genetic line was greatly enhanced with diverse DNA, and now has been re-introduced back into the heart of the Realm, to strengthen yet another struggling family.  I am hoping this will not be the last time we are enjoying such a toast, but for now, let us take a moment to acknowledge the sacrifices made by those that supported this endeavor, and have tread ever so lightly and carefully between two worlds, for the goal of protection of our forests and its inhabitants.  Let us express our gratitude first to the memory of Roven,  then to Lowri, to Aeron of Mathony, to Elder Snape, esteemed for his wisdom and bravery in his own world in his own right, to our Sylvasaya, and of course to Gwydian, whose young age, and other pressing engagements mean that he will not be able to enjoy witnessing and directing the growth of his child.  Which would be the custom in  what we must dutifully accept will likely be his home world."  He raised his glass, and they all drank.  

+++

"Were you present when I was born?" Gwydian asked his father over the Christmas Holiday.

"I was.  However, your mother was rather agitated.  She had a strong instinct to not be in a structure such as a house, and kept trying to return to the trees.  There were two medi-witches, and your grandmother running after her.  I believe we locked her in the bathroom, that big one off your grandparent's bedroom, and she was much happier in the water.  You were born there, in a small space with the two medi-witches, and at that moment in time, she wanted nothing to do with me, and I waited in a corner for things to calm down a bit."

"Female woodland elves give birth surrounded by elven women - usually their mother, maybe an auntie or two, and the birth attendants," Gwydian mentioned.

"Do you wish to be present at this child's birth?"

"I don't know.  Did you gain anything from the experience?"

"I preferred to be there.  I didn't feel the need to have a graphic view of your emergence from the birth canal.  I trust the Medi-witches knew what to look for.  But I was deeply in love with your mother, and wanted to share the experience of such a profound moment.  Your birth was planned, the timing,not so much, at least not by us.  I didn't want her to think that meant I wanted you any less than if the pregnancy had occurred six months to a year later, which was the preferred timing, due to the war."

"Birth control does not really work before the first mating,"

"So I found out.  She did not even register I was there.  She was being immersed in a place I could not go.  However, after it was over, she seemed to gain comfort from the fact that I had been present and witnessed the event."

"What do you remember?"

"There was a lot of low pitched yelling, grunting, and a complete failure to communicate in any civilized fashion.  It was like she was existing in a pensive memory; I could not get through to her.  Like I said, I did not really see the birth itself.  One minute she was one person, and the next, a tiny, squalling infant was rooting at her breast.  Nothing in my life has ever felt more --- magical."  he paused.  Gwydian said not a word, wanting him to continue.

"A female will first bring forth her offspring, and a time after that, perhaps half an hour or 40 minutes or so, an organ that formed during the pregnancy for the purpose of relaying nutrients from the mother to the baby is expelled..  While the medi-witches were overseeing this process, you were handed to me, wrapped in a wet towel.   Your grandmother had gathered all of the necessary to turn you from a wet, screeching blood covered hatchling into a charming newborn in carefully crafted swaddling.  I did the actual work, under her direction. The image that burns the strongest is tiny elven ears.  And your mother's long narrow hands.  I didn't see much of myself in you then, except the color of your hair, but you did grow into some of those features.  I felt very elated, very exhausted, and not at all focused on the challenges you would have straddling these two worlds."

"There are parts of it that are almost unbearably hard," Gwydian acknowledged.  "And yet, when I think of not having The Realm, there is a sadness so profound I cannot breath."

"I think of it as making personal sacrifices to ensure the continuation of an entire species.  Let me ask you this.....if you had no elven blood, but learned of their threatened extinction and the very necessary secrecy surrounding the Realm, would you feel compelled to contribute in a meaningful way to protect this society?"

"Yes.  Of course.  Most wizards think we ARE extinct.  It was very surreal to sit through what is known about our world in "A History of Magic."  oh, the things they got wrong!  But of course, I could not say anything.  Out of all the professors I have had at Hogwarts, I think Professor Binns is the only one who has put two and two together."

"Really?  Professor Binns?"
"He is a ghost - an old one.  I think he has communicated with people, or ghosts at one point who have actually seen Woodland Elves before the separation of the Realm, and retained vague recollections of it.  Recollections, but no real understanding.  Of course, things were very different before we were so worried about inbreeding.  The whole social structure was different, and hierarchy was based more on talent, and certain physical attributes, and DNA was unknown.  We also had more of what you might consider royalty - which came down pretty rapidly when inbreeding became rampant.  The last of the royal line generally gets the best genetic matches, so there is very little "royal blood" left."

"What does history provide incorrect information?"

"Before The Realm was separated and made secret, we were seen from time to time by wizards.  Along with dryads, fairies, satyrs, and the like.  We did not seek them out, but they would catch glimpses here and there.  They were fascinated with our royalty, and did not pay nearly as much attention to the more common.  The High Elder and his family were recounted.  Because of the royal blood line, they were among the very few to have a life mate, and exclusive breeding relationships.  Their family structure and dress, mannerisms, lack of practical occupation was what was documented.  Wizards seemed to think we protected the forests by just issuing orders and decreeing things, and magically they happened.  No one seemed to care that most of the population did not live that way, and the actual labor that is being a Woodland Elf.  We have a master, just like house elves.  It is the Forest.

The destruction of the forests were never acknowledged as the reason for our disappearance.  Professor Binns suggests we were killed off during the Goblin Wars, things like that."

"Fascinating," his father murmured, wondering why he had never discussed this topic with Sylvia.  He himself barely remembered anything Professor Binns had said during his time as a student in History of Magic.  

After her pregnancy had been confirmed, Eryri had been placed in a family group known as "Daughters of Yew". As part of the formal agreement, Gwydian agreed to a mating with another mother from this group after Eryri's child was born. This was conditional on the group welcoming and integrating Eryri. Which as it turned out, they were happy to do. Eryri was very used to having to make herself easy to get along with, and she would likely have desired offspring. The Realm was really hoping for a girl this time, that would stay in the family group and not rejoin the wizarding world. Gwydian wanted a daughter for a different reason, namely that relinquishing a baby was going to be incredibly painful as it was, and not getting the chance to act as a proper father to a boy would have devastated him. There were spells, he had found out, that favored the production of male seed vs female seed. It wasn't 100%, but it could skew the results in his favor. He had used the spell to favor female seed without telling anyone. First off, he did not want Eryri to be disappointed if it did not work. Most mothers preferred daughters because they would eventually have to relinquish their sons to live with the men. Second, the Elders would 100% NOT approve. Doing anything to set off the balance of male vs female offspring was highly frowned upon. Gwydian's opinion of this was that the Elders had no way of truly understanding his position, and he was not going to bother to explain it to them.

As Gwydian's seventh year proceeded, so did did the growth of Eryri's belly. He was glad the birth would be timed such that school would have concluded, so he could at least be present. Another major part of the negotiations would be that Eryri would give birth at his parents' home, attended by his mother and grandmother. If the Elders agreed to this, Gwydian agreed to give the Realm full custody of the infant. He knew Eryri would allow him to visit; she had grown extremely loyal to him.

++++

"Well, Eryri's child should be arriving soon.  I mean to ask you where is this birth going to take place?  Will it be necessary to relive the excitement of chasing her around the orchard in the dark?"
"At least it is summertime, and not as cold." Sylvia teased him.  "No, the bathtub again, I think.  Ours will be much more suitable."
"I hear water birth is all the rage among the muggles.  What was going through your mind?"
"Well, I wasn't thinking in any academic capacity.  But it turns out contact with the water allowed me to use it to transform during the birthing process, which made the baby come out a lot easier.  Freaked your mid-witches out a bit.  I found out later that birthing in water is an intervention in the Realm if birthing is difficult.  I didn't spend enough time in the Realm to realize this."
 "I am glad your mother thought of it."
"She realized I needed some type of contact with the elements.  She said it sure beat bringing a bunch of earth or dirt into her home."
"That it would."
++++

Sylvia was able to prepare Eryri for the water birth.  Why it was helpful, how to use her natural ability to transform in subtle ways to assist with the birthing process.   And the bathing suite......that perfect place.  Gwydian had never seen it.  He was a little put out when Sylvia provided a tour and explanation after Eryri had crossed over, several days before she was due to give birth.
"You hid this from me the whole time?"
"Yes, well, let's see how much of your sex life you choose to share with us," 
Gwydian colored."You do NOT have sex.  Beyond the mating required for my existence, of course."
"I'll leave you to sort out the answer to that on your own.  Now, there are plenty of natural elements in this space, starting with the spring water.  Stones.  All of the plants, save the trees.  The pool is big enough for both of you, until labor is at the end.  Gwydian, you will not assist with the birth, but we will have a receiving area to cleanse and swaddle the infant while the birthing process is completed.  Your grandmother and yourself will be in charge of that."

The child arrived shortly before sunrise on the 1st of August.  As Lowri had assisted with his initial cleaning and presentation by laying him down on waterproofed towels spread over the makeshift infant reception, and she did the same with her great grandchild.  Gwydian stayed at Eryri's side throughout much of her labor, but she became less rational, and less responsive to him the closer she got to delivery, so he spent the last hour or two waiting nearby.  He heard the first cries of life amid the loud directions of the midwitches, and Eryri's own occasional screams of pain.  But a while after calm was restored, and Lowri emerged with an infant in a soggy towel."Is it quite alright?  Why is it no longer crying?"
"Everything is fine.  The baby has settled some, but expect some more crying when the wrappings come off......"
"Is it a boy or a girl?"
"Why don't you see...." said Lowri gently, laying the baby on the bed before him.  Gwydian first took in the baby's sweet facial features, shock of golden brown hair, little pointed ears, silvery eyes.  He pointed them out to Lowri.
"Your mother's were the same color at birth, and so were yours.  They didn't turn brown until about 4 months or so...."
Gwydian grabbed the wipes that had been readied by the medicinal elders at the Realm.  They would clean the baby, without drying the skin.  He cast a warming charm on them, and another warming charm on a flannel baby blanket.  He unwrapped the baby carefully.  It was a little girl, just as he had hoped. He kept the blanket covering all but the parts he was cleaning, and accomplished the task bit by bit.  After the child was clean and dried, Lowri showed him how to position the nappy, and wrap the baby in the carefully made swaddles.  Gwydian held his new daughter for a long moment, wanting to delay the moment where he had to return her to Eryri.  Once he let go, he felt irrationally, the baby was hers.
Severus and Sylvia entered the room quietly for a peek.  Sylvia had thought she might ask to hold the baby briefly, but changed her mind immediately after seeing the look on her son's face.  Severus realized they were very much intruding on a private moment, but he did think to snap a few pictures.  As no photos were allowed in the Realm, these were the only ones Gwydian would have.
"He has had a pretty charmed life, up until now.  Reasonable social support, brains, and he's not bad looking either.  No dark master or war looming in the shadows.  I have never hurt for him before.  But right now I would give anything to take away his pain."
"He seems more intensely attached to the infant than I would have thought," Sylvia agreed. 
"But she must be returned to her mother, and the pair of them to the Realm.  There is no other good option."
The birth concluded, the mid witches decided to conjure a stretcher, and levitate Eryri onto it.  She was wide eyed from the birth, searching for her baby, but they wanted to get her out of the tub and onto a bed before re-uniting them, which bought Gwydian another 10 minutes or so.  The new mother was floated to the office, which had been turned into a bedroom, and she was settled into the bed for a nap before crossing back into the Realm.
"She looks like you," Gwydian admitted, carefully placing the baby in her arms.
"She does," Eryri admitted in wonder. "Did you decide on a name?"
"Calliope."
"That is different.  I like it - no one in our world has that name.  What does it mean?"
"Beautiful voice, or something like that.  It's Greek."
"Why did you choose it?"
"I just wanted her to have something from our world that I liked.  She will likely never come back here in her lifetime."
"I am shocked the elders let me come....."
"They wanted their elfling.  They wanted cooperation.  She will belong fully to the Realm, and will willingly bear its young.....  And they knew you would return to raise her - where else would you go?  You and she would have no real place in our society."
Gwydian helped care for Eryri and Calliope in his Realm family home for the first couple of weeks, then he needed to return to England for his mastery.  Medicinal Potions Research.  In Professor Longbottom's recommendation letter, it was noted "Student was highly disciplined,  producing consistently excellent results over a period of several years, in the absence of positive reinforcement, encouragement, or direction". Eryri would eventually assist him, after Calliope reached an appropriate age for care of the nursemaids.  Settled into the family group Eryri began to open up, and establish more meaningful relationships.  Sadly, the distance between her and her own mother only grew.  Her mother had always favored her sister, and after being shown basic kindness by Gwydian, Eryri became more resentful, realizing her mother could have done a lot more. 

Thoughts of Severus Snape: For most of Britain, there is one war anniversary that is acknowledged. Speeches. Memorials. Fundraising events for those whose lives are still upended from said war. Long winded articles in the Prophet, and the interviewing of random dunderheads.

For myself, there are 2 anniversaries. The very public anniversary of May 2nd, in which we must participate somehow. We have rejoined society, albiet somewhat on its fringes, and it is expected if we want to continue to run a business, and enjoy a measure of public acceptance. So we grit our teeth, and endure the awkwardness of dodging prolonged interactions with members of The former Order.

But then there is the private pain of Halloween.  Of course, Lily and James are long gone, and I have protected their son to the best of my ability.  But.......

October 31, 1999.  Gwydian had turned one the day before, and we had a small family birthday party at his grandparents home.  The next day, we were back in the Realm, to celebrate again.  The Realm does not celebrate individual birthdays, nor do they acknowledge Halloween, but they do have large group birthday parties - in this case, everyone who was born during "harvest time", so it was a kind of harvest/birthday party combination.  Sylvia's 24th birthday on November 2nd is also lumped in. Gwydian was the youngest celebrant, the eldest was 102.

I was not in the mood for a party.  Halloween is always difficult, and is usually spent reflecting on my commitment to protect Potter.  This was the first year that brooding about the Halloween night when Lily died was no longer on the agenda.  Instead, I had the very uncomfortable realization that while Lily gave up the ability to parent her one year old son, MY one year old son was dancing in front of me like a drunken sailor, way past his bedtime, as his community enjoyed a bonfire, music, and late night snacks.  I would pick up my son and carry him off to bed.  He would be changed into his sleeping clothes and lulled off to sleep in his swing off to the side of our own bed, in a world that the Dark Lord could never touch, even if he had not been conquered. I would watch him grow, and in due time board the train for Hogwarts.

I had everything that Lily, as a parent, was denied.  Gwydian had what Lily's son, as a child, was denied.  It felt almost like I was living the days she left behind in her stead; it felt like someone handed me a gift I really wanted, but didn't feel like I deserved and was almost reluctant to take.  And instead of Lily, whose world I would have never have fit into, even if she had returned my affection for her, I had Sylvia.  Her world, it seemed, was better equipped to make room for me, and accept me as I was.  I understood better what had escaped me as a young man.  Marriage was not only about love, but the logistics of building a life together.  Having a wife 15 years younger than myself had definite challenges, but they were surmountable.  Those challenges further convinced me that life with Lily would not have been possible.  She would have been constantly trying to choose between me and the rest of her world.  I had always been compartmentalized, even when we were best friends.

But I could not explain this to Sylvia, who was exhausted from two solid days of social obligations, and wanted only quiet as we prepared for bed ourselves.  So I said nothing.

+++++

In the book, Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, there is a point at the end where Harry realizes that his "last defender" is dead, that one by one, people stood between him and Voldemort - first his parents, then Sirius, and finally Dumbledore, and now there was no one between them.

But that was not true, although he had no way of knowing it.  He had one last defender.  It was Severus Snape.