Chapter One

It was a dark, stormy, late September night and Severus was patrolling the grounds of Hogwarts, in search of any errant student, out of bed after hours. It was a fruitless venture, as he had expected it would be; he didn't imagine any of the pampered students would want to suffer the unseasonably chill wind and rain, however, his night patrol duty required him to check.

He was cold, wet, and irritable as he gave a last cursory scan across the grounds. All seemed as it should, but as his glance swept in the direction of the gates, he caught sight of a flash of light in the distance. Eyes narrowed, he peered into the darkness. There was nothing for a few moments, but then as he continued staring, there was another, a little brighter this time. Taking out his wand, he set off towards the source. If it was a student, Severus would see to it himself that they would be on the train home before the morning. He hoped it was Potter and his little friends.

As he strode down the path towards the great school gates, the light flashes came sporadically, some appearing bright and dissipating quickly, others fainter, but lingering for longer. He exhaled hard; it looked to him like a student practicing a Patronus charm. He quickened his walk towards the location of the light.

The further he walked from the castle, the darker the path became, as did his mood. Whoever it was had chosen the wrong night for after hours meandering. He was reluctant to reveal his approach, wanting to swoop on the rule breaker, march them to the headmaster's office and see them off on the Hogwarts Express before they'd even registered he was there. He was nearly at the gates before it became necessary for him to mutter "Lumos" and use the wand-light for his final advance upon the unwitting student. As he got closer, he became aware of the sound of quiet weeping coming from the source of the light glimmers.

Foolish child, Severus thought, you'll never conjure a true patronus whilst you cry like a baby.

As he came closer, though, he realised that the source of the light was actually coming from outside the school gates. It couldn't be a student. Raising his wand a little higher, he squinted into the darkness again. Only when he was within reaching distance of the gates did he see a huddled shape on the ground, whispering inaudibly, before another feeble beam escaped from a wand. The figure had not even noticed him.

"Nox," he hissed and the wand light vanished. He stopped walking and watched the shaking bundle for a moment. In the gloom, with the aid of the irregular feeble flicker of a wand, he could make out the figure of a woman; she was wearing a long travelling cloak over a long dress. Her long, straggled, wet hair shielded her face from view. Pointing his wand at the witch, he called out, "Who's there?"

He heard a sharp inhalation from the startled woman and she raised large, moist eyes to him. "Oh, please, you must help me," she gasped, scrambling to her feet.

"I most certainly do not," Severus retorted, regarding the mystery woman with disdain. "What is your business here?"

Fresh tears seeped from her eyes as she gazed up at Severus. "I have nowhere left to go. Please help me."

Severus glared, his wand held threateningly towards her. "This is not a homeless hostel," he spat, looking her up and down and conceding that perhaps, she was not looking for one; judging by her clothes, which although bedraggled, betrayed the woman's wealth.

Her face crumpled and she took a jagged intake of breath as she stared at him, taking in his face. "You don't know who I am, do you?"

Severus stared back, incredulous. Just who on earth did she think she was? "I have no idea. Nor do I want to." His tone was cold and indifferent. It cut through her like ice.

"Severus," she choked. "It's Lyssa. Your sister."

Severus's eyes widened as he scrutinized the dishevelled woman in front of him. He hadn't seen or heard from his sister since her husband betrayed the Dark Lord Voldemort and disappeared into hiding, taking Lyssa with him. Igniting his wand once more, he looked ever more closely. Despite her present appearance, she hadn't changed much in the years since he had last seen her. Giving a quick glance all around, he opened the gates and allowed her to enter.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, pulling her by the arm to hurry her through. "Foolish girl, if the Dark Lord catches you, he will kill you! You should have stayed wherever you and your husband were hiding!" Severus spat the word husband like it was poison. An image flashed across his mind: his sister screaming and writhing in agony on the kitchen floor, as her husband, Leval Lavigne subjected her to the Cruciatus Curse, while Severus stood, unseen, watching in horror from the doorway. Her torture was only halted when Severus used the same curse on Leval. That was the last time he had seen her. He had been unsure whether she was alive or dead ever since.

Lyssa shook her head. "The Dark Lord found us, Severus! That's why I am here. Leval is dead. Please, Severus. I need your help."

Severus contemplated her words. "I thought you were dead, I have previously tried to help you, Lyssa, yet, you did not want it at the time." His words were slow and measured, with perhaps, just a hint of sadness betraying his steely voice.

Lyssa stared at her brother with pleading eyes. When they were children Severus had always been there for her. Yet now, when she desperately needed him, he was unwilling to help. Her head felt light. If Severus wouldn't help, what would happen to her? She couldn't breathe. Images flashed through her head; she was three years old, crying, huddled in a corner of the family kitchen, while her father towered over their mother; Severus, aged seven, also crying, with his arms around her, protectively, watching the brute that was their father beat their mother, oblivious to their presence. Another, in which she was probably about five, both she and Severus were sat on the stairs, listening to their parents' fight. Even though they had heard their parents arguments before, something was different about this one; usually, they were in bed, in their shared room. Lyssa would get upset and Severus would come over to her bed in order to comfort her. But on this occasion, he got up and opened the door. Lyssa had bounded out of bed, to his side and gripped his hand, refusing to let go. They had both sat on the stairs, listening to the fighting, the raised voices, amd the sound of a hand striking skin… a harsh choking, gasping for air… "Severus…" she saw the ground spin up to meet her, feeling softer than she expected as she fell, before blackness enveloped her.

Severus considered leaving her where she lay on the wet ground, in the wind and the rain. He had warned her time and again not to get involved with Leval Lavigne. The situation she was in was her own doing, silly girl. And where was she when he, himself decided to extradite himself from the Dark Lord's fellowship? He had not so much as heard from his sister in about four years. She had no right coming here now, begging for his help. He turned to walk away. However, he had barely taken a couple of steps when logic returned to him; he had allowed her access onto the grounds and he could not be sure that she had not been followed. He stopped abruptly and sighed, raising his eyes to the heavens and turned back to the unconscious form of his sister.

He would have to inform the Headmaster.