The sky had opened up into a torrent of rain, limbs thrashing in the wild wind and trash blowing through the streets.

It was perfect.

She stared into the mist, waiting for them. It wouldn't be long, she knew. She was no fool. Keeping watch on the place had been the smartest thing she'd done thus far.

Her cousin, her stupid, blood-traitor cousin, had done it again. How many times would he escape his rightful fate? It angered her to insanity almost, the thought of her memory being stripped of the one recollection that thrilled her most.

He was back.

She had resisted the urge to just barge in, to kill them there, leave their bodies for the so-called Chosen One to find, to realize that no matter who he was the Dark Lord would triumph, and leave him with nothing. Nothing at all.

And that stupid Snape! He and the Malfoy boy had disappeared. No one knew where they were, and no one had seen them. If it had been her who had destroyed Dumbledore, if she had been the one who had performed the masterful task of ridding the world of the old fool, she would have returned with her head held high in honor.

But not that stupid oaf. He probably wanted to bask in the glow on his own, to relish the feeling himself. But in the back of her mind was the answer to a question that had plagued the others for the past few weeks.

Why take the boy?

The Dark Lord was no fool. He knew the boy would never succeed. He knew he would have to rely on someone else to take Dumbledore down. He was just using the boy to punish Cissy and Lucius. He had every intention of killing him, they all knew that.

So that meant that the idiot was protecting the boy.

Oh, he had to, of course. The Unbreakable Vow assured that. He surely wouldn't give his life for the boy.

Idiot.

She drew her black cloak around her tighter, her heavy- lidded eyes peering through the rain.

Just a few more moments. She knew it would only be a few more moments, and she could deliver to the Dark Lord his most sought after prize.

It had taken both of them to assure Sirius that there would be no harm in his bathing, that they were not turning him into the Ministry or anyone else, for that matter. He would be safe, they had promised, over and over again.

Sirius's eyes had remained wild and his face plagued with fear. He had barely spoken except for his constant ramblings about the veil, the awful veil that whispered and you couldn't get out of, no matter how you fought or screamed- how you weren't alive anymore, not really dead, just… swirling, in all those voices.

For a long time Remus and Tonks had just stared at each other, not really sure what to say.

Remus had seen him go through the veil. So had Harry. So had everyone up and fighting in that room.

So how the hell had he gotten out?

And what the hell was that thing doing in the Ministry?

Remus stood and paced the floor. Harry should have been there by now. He'd sent another owl to the Burrow, just to make sure, and now, hours later, he waited, his uneasiness growing by leaps and bounds.

There were no Muggles on the street.

Of course. Professor Lupin would have made sure of that. He didn't want them to be seen. He and Ron and Hermione had approached in fear, wondering what bad news Lupin would have for them now. What sort of agonizing tale would he tell? What member of the Order had met an untimely death?

Hermione had almost burst into tears at the thought of Tonks. Poor Professor Lupin, she had cried, he's lost so much, just like Harry, and now he was all alone again.

But Ron had quieted her, pointing out that he would have broken news like that in person, would have come to them with other members of the Order, not asked them to join him somewhere where they were alone.

That had cheered her up quite a bit, and she had nodded finally, and said that she thought perhaps he wanted to show Harry his new estate, help him get settled in perhaps.

But Harry knew that wasn't the case.

Was it possible that Lupin had felt the same odd pull toward the old place as he did? Could the werewolf be feeling the same need to enter those dark and dirty halls, and dreaming of a time not yet come to pass with people he didn't recognize and a sense of urgency that crept up his spine?

They walked into the yard, between the two Muggle flats, and Harry had reached out to tap the wall when the flash erupted.

He whirled around just in time to see none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, that bitch that had taken Sirius away, walking towards him with her wand raised. He drew his wand, staring back to tell Hermione and Ron to get Professor Lupin, but to his horror they were on the ground, both lifeless heaps. He turned back to Bellatrix, and she smiled evilly into his face.

"Poor little Potter," she coddled. "Did his little friends go nighty-night?"

Harry tried to curse her, but a sound behind him made them both look. A thin door had opened between the two houses, and there stood Lupin, a look of shock registering as he saw the two lying motionless, and he pulled his wand. "Harry! Get down!"

But it was far too late. Bellatrix had raised her wand and had shouted something totally unknown to him, and as Professor Lupin rushed forward, the most amazing thing happened.

Harry began to fly.

It was a truly incredible feeling- one second, he was in the grass, and in the next, he was soaring. It was a few seconds before he thought to look up and see just what the thing was that had lifted him so effortlessly.

He probably shouldn't have looked, as his stomach flopped at the sight of it.

His clothes were being clutched in a pair of grey feet, twice as big as his hands, complete with talons and leathery skin that seemed like scales. From these very large feet the legs made their way into a nest of feathers, dark brown in color but that changed to a iridescent golden-red whenever light hit them just right. These feathers spread onto great wings that beat in unison to Harry's every fourth heartbeat, and he reprimanded himself for thinking so stupidly in a time like this.

The eyes of the bird were dark red, and hooded in a way that made it look angry, very angry indeed. Harry began to wonder if he was going to be prey to this thing, and just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Too bad it couldn't have been Bellatrix instead.

But for the life of him, he couldn't be scared. He actually could not be scared.

Maybe it was a good sign.

Or maybe he just didn't care anymore.

Water trickled down the cavern walls.

It was damp, dark, and smelly, but Draco stood beside Snape as if his life depended on it.

Because, frankly, it probably did.

Snape wouldn't answer any of his questions, refused to, actually, until they were out of the old shack and on their way to… hunt.

That's what Snape had called it, and that's what it was. They were hunting.

For what, he didn't know. But they had apparated to this forest, smack in the middle of a torrential downpour, and now they were in this cave, and Snape looked rather annoyed, and Draco was scared because he kept yelling at thin air.

"I suppose the tiniest bit of help from you would be totally ridiculous to expect!" he bellowed, staring at the wall. "You can hardly blame me for waiting so long, seeing as how you've tried your best to be a stranger for the past sixteen years!"

Draco leaned against the cave wall, unsure of what to do at this point.

Snape had gone insane.

And he was stuck with him.

Snape suddenly stiffened as if poked with a hot needle. His face flushed.

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN IF HE'S SCARED OR NOT! JUST GET US OUT OF HERE AND BE DONE WITH IT!"

The deep voice echoed down the cave walls, and Draco knew for sure he was done for.

Snape suddenly turned, and stared at Draco with eyes that could pierce the soul, and took a slow step forward. Draco swallowed, felt the panic in his chest rising, and met the man's eyes in complete fear and confusion.

Wait a minute. He wasn't staring at Draco. He was staring beyond him, out the mouth of the cave. Draco hesitantly turned, expecting Death itself to be standing there.

A carriage, satiny black and drawn by matching horses of the same color, stood at the entrance of the cave, a hooded figure walking towards them out of the rain. As it approached, a gloved hand appeared and removed the head covering. They stared at a young man, ruggedly handsome, short dark hair curling over his icy grey eyes that went from Draco to Snape.

He cocked his head warily and tilted his chin back, seeming to appraise the other man. A few seconds passed, and his voice, smooth and velvety, filled the cave with a soft hum.

"Hello, Master Severus," he said with a tiny grin. "We've been expecting you."

Somewhere in flight, Harry had fainted.

Now he woke in a rather dark room, surrounded by skulls and paintings of werewolves and wizards of old that he recognized from his history books.

And a very old man who sat in an armchair, staring down at a book that had a picture of a cauldron of frogs on the cover. He didn't even look up as he spoke. "I got your things from the Weasley's. Had to do it quickly, though- Apparated in and out in record time, I should say. No one had the chance to see me. Funny crowd, those Weasleys…"

Harry opened his mouth, then noticed that his trunk was beside him on the floor. He tried to stand, but the old man in the corner waved a wand and he felt himself flop against the back of the chair.

He closed the book, and as he looked up, Harry saw that he wasn't that old at all. His eyes were strange, almost; a dark, dark brown, and his face bore no wrinkles or age spots. The only giveaway was his hair, which was to his shoulders and streaked with silver.

He regarded Harry for a moment, then took a deep breath and steepled his fingers.

"Are you alright?"

Harry nodded, thinking that if he wasn't, he would have surely known by now.

The man nodded. "Good. Then I suppose we can get ready to go." He stood, then made his way to the dark curtains, opening them to reveal a scene that put Harry in a state of shock.

There were rolling green fields, extending into the horizon that seemed to never end. He walked to the balcony, and realized he had to be around three stories up, looking out over some lavish estate. The smell of fresh cut grass was overpowering, and Harry closed his eyes as he breathed it in, relishing the familiar scent.

The light had flooded the dark room, and Harry noticed that it looked strangely like Potions class at Hogwarts. Bottles and jars of every which filled the room around him, and he turned to the man behind him.

"W-where am I? What is this place?"

The man smiled. It was a genuine smile, one meant to put him at ease, and Harry suddenly realized he had not felt uncomfortable even before this.

"This, Master Potter, is Altress Manor." He shrugged. "You'll have to excuse us for our butting in and sweeping you off like that. But we've been watching you for a few weeks now, and couldn't have brought you here without the Ministry catching us. Merlin knows they've been looking for us for years."

Harry shifted his weight, standing slowly. "The Ministry? Why would they be looking for you?"

The man laughed, a silvery chuckle, and looked out over the site. "In time, Harry, all in time. For now, let's just call it politics."

Harry could understand that. Cornelius Fudge and Rufus Scrimgeour, old and new Ministers, had at one time or another tried to use Harry for such things. But Harry had stood his ground each time, proving to be Dumbledore's man, through and through. So maybe if this man was pushing against the Ministry too, he might have found a friend. He turned to him.

"I'm..."

"Harry Potter, I know," the man said, then offered his hand. "Cyrus Auden. I suppose you could call me your escort, for now. I'm sure we'll be able to tell you more later."

Harry took his hand, and thought at once he would never feel sadness again. The warmth that radiated from him overpowered any doubts Harry had, and Cyrus obviously saw this, for he merely chuckled again and said, "An old Healer's hand, giving you that kind of reaction?"

Harry blinked. "You're a Healer?"

Cyrus gave a nod. "Here, there is a great need for Healers."

"Where exactly, sir, is here?"

Cyrus Auden laughed again, his clear undulation echoing through the room as if the best acoustics possible had been installed perfectly throughout. "I couldn't tell you. He made the place Unplottable, and far be it from me to break the charm without permission."

"Without whose permission?"

In perfect time, a house elf entered, scurrying up to Cyrus and whispering in his ear. Cyrus thanked her, then turned to Harry once again.

"Well, Master Harry Potter," he smiled, "it seems time to alert your good friends that you are in fact alive and in one piece."

Hermione remembered nothing, nor did Ron. But their worry about Harry's flight with a giant eagle had taken a temporary back seat to Sirius's story about the veil.

"Horrible, monstrous thing," he said, his eyes still haunted and dark. "Voices, all around, but no light, no light at all, except sometimes you could see the veil. Just for a second, there right in front of you, and you'd try so hard to get to it, to reach it, because you knew on the other side there was life, and just when you got close enough, you were pulled back, into all those voices, and they would whisper- things you'd never imagine! They knew all about me, they did, and all about my life. They told me that some of them escaped, they got free, but the Ministry sent them back- and they said it was always worse the second time- the first time, it's weightless- as if someone just pushed you into a hole. But the second time…" he shuddered, and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "Well, let's not think about that."

Ron was transfixed on Sirius, his eyes wide and his mouth opened. Hermione grasped his hand until he was sure he'd never regain feeling in it, her face twisted in horror.

"But you made it. You made it out. How did you do it?"

Sirius breathed, his eyes brimming with tears. "I knew Harry needed me." He shook his head. "Harry needed me, and right there, right outside my door, he's taken." He seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown again. "Remus…"

Lupin was there, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Tonks was beside him, her arms encircling her cousin. "I'm sure he's alright, Sirius. Remus says Bellatrix was just as surprised to see that bird as he was. And she Disapparated on the spot. So she must have been scared. Maybe someone else is looking out for Harry now."

Sirius shook his head. "No. No, he belongs to me. I should have been with him. I could have saved him. I know it."

Hermione met Ron's eyes, and they both thought the same thing.

Where was Harry?

Draco thought he was dreaming.

As the trees cleared from the road in front of them, they stopped outside the house.

Well, calling it a house would be slanderous, to tell the truth. It was a mansion. Not a mansion. An estate. A perfectly arched frame, seeming to extend the full three stories to the roof, expanding so wide it seemed as a castle, practically, filling the entire view against the backdrop of blue mountains. The entire place had to be made of marble or some other iridescent stone, for it caught the mid-morning light like a prism, the rays bouncing off and back into the atmosphere.

Snape seemed to be the only person here who wasn't totally at peace. He looked positively scared, to tell the truth, and Draco wondered if he should be scared too, just in case they were in trouble, but for the life of him couldn't make himself worry. There was something about this place that filled him with wonder and calm.

Draco suddenly longed for home. His mother must be worried sick, and he hoped that she was somewhere inside this place, awaiting him with honor and praise for being so brave.

But inside he knew different. There was no way that he would receive praise of any kind- he had failed. Miserably. And it was a given that he would probably pay dearly for having to rely on Snape to finish the job. He wondered again why Snape had insisted upon running- surely if Draco got the chance and fought the fools that had been coming for them in the first place, he would redeem himself in the Dark Lord's eye.

But that would not be the case.

They exited the carriage, Snape eyeing the mansion's ivory doors quite nervously, and the man who had driven them walked to their side. They started up the steps, Draco listening to the conversation in confusion.

"After all she has told us, it seems that you would be happy, seeing her again," the young man said.

Snape gave a perfect scowl. "It would seem you would keep your thoughts and opinions of this matter to yourself."

"Now, Master Severus, you know that if anyone understands you, it will be she. She is, of course, your…"

"I will thank you to drop the matter- it's no concern of yours."

Snape seemed to be in a hurry, and a nervous one at that. Draco was having trouble keeping up, and stumbled on the top step. Snape cast him a frustrated glare, and then the doors opened. The man to Snape's left smiled. "I shall leave you with Tilly, she'll show you the way in."

Tilly, a tiny house elf, appeared in the double doors and bowed humbly to the threesome. "My Lords, how was your journey? Not too harsh, I hope. The weather has been quite nasty since Miss used the concealment charm last week. We can only hope that it aided your arrival."

Draco grimaced. He hated house elves. And this one seemed proud enough to try and make conversation. He came a hair's breadth of scolding the creature, but to his surprise, Snape regarded her gently.

"Tilly, we have no time to discuss such things at the moment. It is imperative that we see her immediately."

The house elf simply turned and began a trek through the foyer, which Draco immediately deduced had been graced by an enlargement charm, making the house seem even bigger inside than out. The ceiling was much like the Great Hall at Hogwarts, birds and butterflies bewitched into a scene, and a fountain that sprouted from a large lotus-looking flower stood in the center of the marble floor. Tilly led them to the right, entering a sitting room that looked like a jungle- plants everywhere, dragon-leather furniture with claws for feet, and a large etched block of crystal that served as a table, containing the head of a Chinese Firetail. The creature's mouth was wide, exposing the lethal teeth, and its eyes eerily glowed through the sheer crystal, seeming to follow them through the room.

Draco raised an eyebrow. He had learned to live in luxury, but the expense of owning such things was great, and he knew they were not in just a commoner's home.

A door to the left of them was closed, voices muffled behind it. Tilly stopped and turned to Snape.

"How should I announce you, Master Severus?"

Snape swallowed. "There will be no need for that," he answered, looking at the door as if it were about to attack. He took a long breath, and pulled Draco to him.

"You will not speak unless spoken to, do you understand?"

Draco nodded nervously as Tilly opened the door. They walked in, finding themselves in a room filled with floating orbs, maps of solar systems on every wall, stuffed creatures mounted in every corner, portraits that seemed eerily watching as the dragon, and more outlandish furniture- two couches and a table sitting in front of a desk.

Resting against that desk, her back to them, was a woman, long dark hair cascading down her back. Snape's steps faltered, then he regained his composure and strode to the front of the room, twenty or so feet away from the woman.

She appeared to be studying the map of the world on the wall behind her desk, and Draco saw that there were thousands of little dots moving around on it. She spoke.

"Won't you sit?"

Her voice was deep, smooth. Snape cleared his throat. "I assume you have agreed to it?"

Her shoulders tightened as she let out a little laugh. "Obviously, or you wouldn't be standing there now."

Snape seemed to take these words to heart, and he glanced at Draco. "I have the boy," he said, then added very loudly, "as you requested."

Her head bent, then she righted herself. "Now, Severus, you're not upset with me asking a favor after all this time, are you?" She turned to face them.

Draco's eyes scanned her, and found that she was indeed quite beautiful. Her skin was like alabaster, nearly translucent, and her dark hair fell loosely around her face, inset with a pair of the palest blue eyes he had ever seen. In those eyes lived a sort of delicacy, making her radiate a sense of innocence despite her age. There was something else, something in her face, that was almost familiar...

Snape was less affected by her appearance. His gaze did linger on her eyes for a split second, then dropped suddenly.

She looked to Draco as she crossed the room to them, and he felt as though he were under scrutiny. He shifted uncomfortably, then met her eyes. She smiled, and it was though comfort filled him on every level.

"Draco, you must be exhausted. I'll have Tilly show you to a room, and you can bathe if you wish, and then you can have some breakfast. Would you like that?"

For some reason, he couldn't speak, and when he did find his words, they came out high pitched and whiny, not like he had intended.

"I'd like to know exactly what I'm doing here instead of with my fellow Death Eaters."

Snape looked at the floor to his left, and the woman stared at the boy hard for a second. She stepped closer. Her chin lifted, and she blinked.

"I'm sorry, Draco, but for now you will stay here. So you should make it a comfortable stay. Please do not shun my kindness. Believe me when I say it will not reward you well to do so."

Draco had the feeling he was being threatened, and pushed his chest out a little, then spat the words at her. "I'm not some stupid child, Miss. So it would do you well to not to treat me as one. I have loyalties to my people, and I refuse to be pushed around by some... woman."

Snape was suddenly in his face, inches away and hauling him up by the collar a little. Draco's smug scowl turned into a flinch, stunned by the assault.

"You will apologize," Snape growled slowly.

Draco looked at him in shock for a long time, then past him to the woman, who was looking on quietly. Snape shoved him in front of her, and she met his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

The woman gave a tiny, sympathetic smile. "It's quite alright, Draco. I can't say what I would do or say if I were walking in your shoes after all this." She swallowed. "Please, do go with Tilly. You can at least get some sleep."

Draco decided not to turn down her offer again, half because she seemed earnest and half because he didn't want Snape jerking him around again. He gave a small nod.

She smiled widely again, and beckoned Tilly. As she gave the elf directions, Draco tried to catch Snape's eye. But the man continued to avert his gaze.

Draco began following the house elf out, and the woman called to him. He turned.

"You should know," she said knowingly, "that if you try to leave, I would know it immediately. So I am giving you my trust. If you choose to dishonor it, you will be sorry. Do you understand?"

Draco looked to Snape, who met his eyes. He seemed to be telling him to obey her, no matter what he wanted to think or do. The boy nodded, careful to make sure Snape saw it. He turned and walked out, the door closing behind him.

A silence settled on the room, lasting a bit longer than Snape would have liked, but when she spoke, he wished she would have stayed quiet.

"So tell me, Severus, is it true?"

His eyes closed, and he turned to her. She was staring out the windows on the right of the room that showed the rolling fields below, her expression neutral.

Snape seemed to choke on the words. "Yes."

She nodded. With a toss of her head, a lock of hair whipped behind her shoulder. She crossed her arms. "I see." Her chin lifted, and she cleared her throat. "I... I know it's been a very, very long time since we've spoken, Severus, but I just want you to know that this... what has happened... there are so many things I have to tell you about Albus Dumbledore..."

"Are you finished?"

Her eyes flickered to him, and she blinked a few times as she watched him. He felt the tug in the center of his brain, and averted his eyes quickly.

She stepped towards him. "Is it that hard, that you can't even hear his name spoken?" She shifted. "If I chose to believe what you have told me, would you trust me? Or have you lost all trust you ever held?"

He took a step towards her, his voice softer and more controlled than usual. "You believe me. Otherwise you would never have let us come here. But the boy shouldn't know, not yet. If the Dark Lord were to find him, it would do well to have him ignorant of some things. After all, in their eyes I remain a faithful servant."

She nodded reluctantly, and a few moments passed in silence, then she breathed. "Severus," she paused, her breath catching in her throat, "they... they say… he… he was innocent."

Snape looked out the window. He knew exactly who she was talking about. "You have heard?"

She straightened a bit, nodding tightly, and swallowed. "Is he really…"

He shifted. "Yes. In the fight at the Ministry of Magic."

"Bellatrix."

"Yes."

She hugged herself tightly for a moment, then lifted her chin. "Did you ever get a chance to speak to him?"

Snape eyed her. "Not if I could help it."

Her eyes seemed to focus on something that was invisible to all but her. "Did he ever… when you did speak to him… did he ever say anything about… about…"

"You? No, never. He was hardly the type to think of some girl he had bedded years before. Much less one who was fool enough to think she was actually different from all the others he was bedding at the same time."

Her jaw tightened, her body tensing. "Stop it."

"Did I say something wrong? Should I not speak the truth? Should I step into your dream world where everything is lovely and the nice boy with the smiling eyes means every little thing he says?"

She closed her eyes. "He's dead, Severus. Do not speak of him like that."

"Yes, he's dead. And if you ask me, that's the best thing that could ever have happened for you and the rest of the world."

She looked at him suddenly, and her entire demeanor had changed to something darker and much less hospitable. She walked towards him, her steps sure and strong, and stood only a few inches from him as his eyes dropped.

"You were never able to lie to me, Cousin," she hissed. Her eyes seemed to grow when she was on the offensive, and Snape avoided them like the plague. She glared at him nonetheless, and the flush in her cheeks was evidence to her state of anger. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she leaned into his face, speaking into his ear.

"You betrayed me. And I know that you betrayed the Death Eaters. But the thing is, Dear Severus, if you would seek my help to save your poor, miserable neck, after all these years, what will happen if you were forced to fight against your old friends for the good? Would you still be so reverent and steadfast in the face of death for me? Or would you turn your back as you did all those years ago?"

He winced as if stung. He met her eyes slowly, and she continued to glare. "After all, funny things happen to people who get on your bad side, Severus. Even the ones who you once cared so deeply about." A moment passed in silence, and he frowned. He looked at her squarely.

"Don't you ever bring that up again," he said firmly.

She raised an eyebrow. "Just offering you an example of your dependable character."

He stepped into her, until they were touching, and he could feel her hot breath against his face as she set her jaw and met his eyes defiantly.

"I… didn't… know," he growled. "I didn't know it was going to be them, and I didn't know your precious Black would be taken away."

"You hated him. Nothing would have made you happier that to see him and James dead." She swallowed. "Except for Dementors to have their way with him, I guess."

Snape gritted his teeth. "I didn't... know."

"And Lily. Do you remember Lily?" Her voice was rising, and at the name Snape's eyes closed tightly. She continued. "Was it worth her life to see James and Sirius fall? Was it? After all she did for you? And for me?" She began to shout. "WAS IT WORTH IT, SEVERUS?"

His wand was out, pointed at her neck. She remained totally composed, and met his eyes in sheer defiance.

"Oh, please," she said calmly. "We both know you can't do it, Severus. You're not a murderer. You're just a sad, sad example of a man who got himself guilted into goodness. If it had been anyone else who had died, anyone else but her, you would still be out there, following the Dark Lord and doing his bidding without a second thought. But no, it was her- the only person you ever cared about other than your mother and me. And you were the one who marked her for death. So I guess we're even. We both lost the ones we loved." She bent her head towards him. "Only my hands are clean."

For a moment, his eyes were filled with such hatred that he looked as though he would kill her, leave her in pieces, forget that she ever existed, and he even thrust his wand deeper into her skin. But as they stared at each other, and words passed between them unspoken, his expression softened. He raised his eyebrows.

"I feel," he said smoothly, "that you have made your point quite well. You blame me. For it all. And if you are finished with your shrieking, perhaps we should think about what our next move will be, because not only will the Ministry be looking for me, but the Dark Lord will be searching for the boy." He leaned in again. "And if you want the truth out of me, no lies whatsoever, just let me say that the day he went to Azkaban I laughed out loud and the day he died," he gave her a tiny shake, "I shouted with glee."

She stared back at him as if they were discussing a boring Quidditch match. Her eyes remained locked with his.

"Just let me say that if I had the chance to change it all," she leaned even closer, "I would have gladly left you to rot in that house with your pathetic father and never thought of you again, if it meant having him back."

He pushed her away roughly, and shoved his wand back into his robes. "I'm so delighted to know where you stand." He stormed to the door. "I guess sixteen years of no contact has left us much to discuss. Unfortunately, I'm quite tired. I would like to rest before we reminisce more."

She stared at him coldly, then walked to him, calling for Tilly.

She popped up immediately. "Yes, Miss?"

She spoke as if talking about having the curtains cleaned. "Take Severus upstairs and show him to his room. Make it close to Draco's so he can keep an eye on him. See that they are served lunch in the upstairs dining room. I will not be joining them, as I have some business to attend to."

She turned to walk back into the study, and Snape watched her for a second.

Her eyes stared at the windows, exposing her profile. It was suddenly sad, broken, not the smooth and controlled countenance as before. He turned from the room as the door closed, feeling a pressure in his chest that he'd not felt in a very, very long time.