Elizabeth went through the portrait and into Snape's office for her private Potions lesson. The office was empty, but a QuickGrade quill was rapidly correcting papers on the desk.

"Dad?" Elizabeth called, worried. She went through the door that connected to their apartment, then down the stairs to Severus' lab. "Dad?"

Snape looked up from the cauldron he was scrapping ingredients into. "Hello, hatchling."

"What is going on upstairs?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the 'lazy quill' is grading your papers."

Severus smiled a bit. "I am behind in my work here. The quill buys me a bit of time."

"If you're busy, we can cancel the Potions lesson," Elizabeth said hopefully.

Severus washed his hands and dried them. "Not cancel, just relocate," he said, going to his stores. "Professor Slughorn is teaching Draught of Living Death today, I'd like you to attend the 2 o'clock session of his NEWT class." He pulled the pocket watch from his waistcoat and flicked it open. "Hurry, you'll be late."

"The classroom is like 2 feet from us," Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"You have to go around," Severus shooed her toward the door. "I've charmed the inner office door to lead to the Defense classroom instead of Potions."

"Can't you teach me that potion?"

"I could, but as I've said, I'm behind here. Now go."

Elizabeth headed back up the stairs and out of their chambers, this time via the corridor door. When she reached the Potions classroom, class was already in full swing.

"Ah, Miss Evans," Professor Slughorn said, striding from the front of the room. "Your father mentioned that you'd be joining class today. Take a seat." He gestured to a seat at Ron and Hermione's table. "We are preparing to brew the Draught of Living Death. Are you familiar with it?"

"Only with the name, sir."

"Ah, well, no matter. Page 27 in your copy of Advanced Potion-Making."

Elizabeth groaned internally. "I'm sorry, sir… my father only just told me to come down, I forgot to grab my copy—

"Not to worry," Slughorn disappeared into his storage room. Elizabeth looked over at the table of Slytherins, meeting Draco's eyes. The wizard's lip curled, daring her to say anything to him. Before she could decide how best to react, Slughorn was back, a battered copy of the textbook in his hand. "Here you are."

"Thank you, sir," Elizabeth turned away from Malfoy and sat beside Ron, flipping the book open.

To her annoyance, she saw that the previous owner had scribbled all over the pages, so that the margins were as black as the printed portions. Bending low to decipher the ingredients, Elizabeth hurried to the store cupboard to find what she needed.

Back at her table, she carefully cut the valerian roots, knowing from experience that the roots needed clean cut marks. After she finished chopping, she bent low over the book again. It was really very irritating, having to try and decipher the directions under all the stupid scribbles of the previous owner, but she couldn't very well ask Slughorn for another book. Not when she'd come unprepared.

The scribbles in the book had a kind of spiky quality that made Elizabeth feel more stressed than a handwriting sample should. The scribbler, for some reason, seemed to have taken issue with the next step, to cut up the sopophorous bean, and had written in the alternative instruction:

Crush with flat side of silver dagger, releases juice better than cutting.

The sopophorous bean was proving very difficult to cut up. Elizabeth turned to Hermione. "Can I borrow your silver knife?"

Hermione nodded impatiently, not taking her eyes off her potion, which was still deep purple, though according to the book aught to be turning a light shade of lilac by now.

Elizabeth crushed her bean with the flat side of the dagger. To her astonishment, it immediately exuded so much juice; she was amazed the shriveled bean could have held it all. Hastily scooping it into the cauldron she saw, to her surprise, that the potion immediately turned exactly the shade of lilac described by the textbook.

Her annoyance with the previous owner vanishing on the spot, Elizabeth now squinted at the next line of instructions. According to the book, she had to stir counterclockwise until the potion turned clear as water. According to the addition of the previous owner had made, however, she ought to add a clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise stir.

Part of Elizabeth wondered how often the scribbler had brewed the potion in order to discover things like that. The other half firmly believed that he or she was just doodling. But the first correction had been right… could the old owner be right twice?

Elizabeth stirred counterclockwise, held her breath, and stirred once clockwise. The effect was immediate. The potion turned palest pink.

"How are you doing that?" Hermione demanded.

"Add a clockwise stir—

"No, no, the book says counterclockwise!" she snapped.

"Time's up!" called Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!"

Slughorn moved slowly among the tables, peering into cauldrons. He made no comment, even at Hermione's potion. Then he saw Elizabeth's, and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.

"The clear winner!" he cried to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Elizabeth. It's obvious you inherited your father's talent. Not that Lily was pants at Potions, either, mind you. You have Potions talent in your blood."

"Thank you, sir," Elizabeth took the vial Slughorn offered.

"One bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised," the professor, presenting her with the tiny bottle of golden liquid.

Hermione looked like someone had punched her. "How did you do that?" she hissed as they packed up.

"Extra tutoring," Elizabeth said vaguely, slipping the book into her bag, trying not to look guilty. There was no way she could explain to Slughorn why she was taking a Potions book, since there were probably a dozen floating around her house.

Eager to escape Hermione's disbelieving look, especially since the other witch received far more extra Potions practice than Elizabeth, she went around the corner to their chamber's door. Severus appeared to be still in the lab, so she went into her room. After carefully hiding the little golden bottle in a sock in her drawer, she pulled the potions book out of her bag.

It had become popular to cover their books with enchanted parchment. Shooting stars, fire-breathing dragons, and so forth. Elizabeth glanced at her real Potions book, which was covered in little golden snitches, flying around.

Carefully, she removed the cover from her new book and folded it around the scribbler's copy, sticking the cover down with Spellotape. Finishing the front cover, she flipped it over to the back, stopping when she saw the same handwriting from inside the book.

This Book is the Property of the Half-Blood Prince

Running through the half-bloods she knew, she was hit, suddenly, with a cold, sick feeling. Was this Tom Riddle's Potions book? There was something wrong with using Voldemort's notes. Something dark.

However, she was enticed by the idea of suddenly being so successful in Potions. The thought of her father's face when he found out about Slughorn's class that day was encouraging. He'd always been pleased with her achievement in Defense, but she knew that there was a part of him that was disappointed that she wasn't talented in Potions.

"She really is like you," Elizabeth had heard Lily's portrait saying to him one night when she'd gotten up to retrieve something from the living room. "Defense is your first love."

"You are my first love," Severus' voice had corrected. "And you know why I want to teach Defense."

"You have a rare talent for brewing, Sev. It's a subject that guilt didn't drive you to."

The voices had become fuzzier after that, and Elizabeth had tiptoed back into her room.

Yes, the book would serve a purpose much more important than the obvious improvement in her potions.

"Half-Blood Prince," she muttered to herself, storing the book in her bedside table. "Sounds like an egotistical prat."

*S*S*

Severus Snape was suspicious. It started with a conversation at the breakfast table with the new Potions professor.

"I appreciate you allowing Elizabeth to sit in on your NEWT class yesterday," Severus said, sitting beside the other man.

"Of course," Slughorn nodded. "She obviously inherited your talent, Snape. She made them look like first years."

"Really." Severus raised an eyebrow and glanced at the Gryffindor table, where Ron was tossing strawberries into the air for Elizabeth to catch. "Are you sure you aren't mistaking her for Miss Granger?"

Slughorn shook his head. "Hermione produced a passable Draught. But Elizabeth's was perfect. I've never seen such clarity from a NEWT student."

Severus managed a weak smile, and took a long sip of coffee, watching his daughter from across the room. Elizabeth didn't apply herself in Potions. Even if she did, Severus was certain that she didn't have the raw talent to produce a perfect Draught of Living Death. In fact, he knew that the NEWT Potions text did not give accurate directions for that (or any) advanced potions. The author had watered down the instructions so that the potions would be passable, but not dangerous. Only Potions Mastery students learned the variations that produced powerful (and sometimes lethal) potions.

Of course, Severus had worked much of that out himself as a NEWT student. It was a sure sign of a future Potions Master, a student who could sense the needs of a Potion without having to be taught. He'd had that conversation with Miss Granger often during their additional work sessions. The girl was a slave to the directions. It caused her great anxiety to deviate from what was written in the book. Severus often thought that it was what would stand between her and greatness in the field.

It was just a fluke, he thought to himself.

As the day wore on, however, the idea kept gnawing at him. Why hadn't Elizabeth mentioned her Potions success? Slughorn had apparently handsomely rewarded the winner in class the day before (ridiculous, Severus thought, to reward students for doing their jobs), but Elizabeth hadn't said anything about it.

"Maybe she thought you would take the prize away," Remus suggested that evening, after accepting the Wolfsbane he'd come to retrieve.

"I should," Severus said tightly. "Giving something that addictive to a child?" He gritted his teeth. "As if she needs any more excuses to think she's lucky."

"Maybe you should ask her about it."

"Maybe he'll stew for hours instead," Lily's portrait chirped from the other room.

"Maybe I'll put both of you in a cupboard," Severus muttered. "I can't seem to… there's no time to breathe."

"You need a vacation," Remus leaned against the sofa arm.

"I do not," Severus disagreed. "I just need one minute when we're not fighting to save the world, and when my daughter is not busy doing God-knows-what. I just need one minute to figure out why I feel like I'm treading water instead of parenting."

"Sev—

Severus waved off his friend's assurances. "I've been so busy I can't even conform to the schedule of instruction I designed for her this term," he said, running his hand through his hair. "And she's 16, and avoiding me, and there's something going on…" His tirade trailed off. "I just don't know what to do."

"As I said, go on vacation."

"We have neither the time, nor a secure location for that," Severus frowned.

"Go to the cottage," Remus suggested. "The Weasleys have secured it. Take your daughter and go for awhile."

"We can't just go."

"Sev…" Remus dropped his voice to avoid being heard by the eavesdropping portrait in Severus' bedroom. "I've never known you to be afraid of confronting your daughter about something. You are blunt to a fault. So what is really going on?"

"I told you, I've been very busy."

"That's never stopped you before," Remus shook his head. He looked directly into Snape's eyes. "What are you afraid of?"

Severus dropped his gaze and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers deep in his hair. "I'm running out of time," he said, his voice tense.

"Severus," Remus leaned forward as well, trying to see his friend's face. "We talked about this. She's not going anywhere."

"No," Severus shook his head, his fingertips turning white as he pressed them against his scalp. "You don't… her scar…"

"Is it hurting again?" Remus asked. "I thought she was getting better at blocking her mind."

"No," Severus shook his head again, almost franticly. "No, I can't…" he stood suddenly. "You're right. We need to go away for awhile." He strode out into the corridor, walking quickly, robes billowing, with no particular destination.

Remus is right, he scolded himself. You're afraid. And you're letting it impact how you are raising your daughter. He shoved down the desire to give her everything she wanted in the last years of her life. She's not happy now. She's edgy, and it's your fault, because you're being a nutter.

With new resolve, he turned on his heel and headed deliberately toward Gryffindor Tower. "Open," he snapped at the Fat Lady.

"Well!" the Fat Lady said, indignant. "Aren't we demanding this evening!"

"Now," Severus growled, stepping closer, menacingly. The portrait swung open, and Severus pointed his wand into the opening.

Elizabeth was sitting in one of the armchairs in the common room, inspecting the Half-Blood Prince's changes to Mandrake Draught. Suddenly, a silver doe stood in front of her. "Come here. Now." Her father's voice was firm, but she didn't hear anger in it. Standing, she closed the book and went to the portrait opening.

"You could have come in," Elizabeth dropped down onto the corridor floor.

Without answering, Severus waved his wand again, and Elizabeth's trunk appeared. Snapping it open, Snape surveyed the contents briefly before gesturing to the book she held. "Put that in here."

"What are you doing?"

Wordlessly, Severus snapped his fingers and pointed to the trunk. Elizabeth tossed the book on top of her clothing and other belongings. She saw Lunus was tucked inside, so Severus must have had the trunk pack itself before it appeared in front of them.

Severus closed the lid and latched it before straightening and shrinking the trunk. "Hand that to me," he pointed to the tiny trunk while he straightened his robes.

"Dad, we can't just go—

"That's where you are incorrect," Severus said evenly, turning to striding toward the stairs, tucking the little trunk into his robe pocket. "Come."

Elizabeth had to jog to keep up with him as he strode purposefully to the front doors and out onto the lawn. She stopped asking questions, as it seemed to be fruitless. They went beyond the grounds, and Severus stopped. "Come here," he said, holding his arms out.

Elizabeth recognized that they were preparing to apparate, which she hated, but Severus had been strange and distant lately. The excuse to let him hold her, regardless of the reason, superceded the dread she felt about apparation.

Things had been unstable lately. Between Severus freaking out about Sirius' money, to the fact that he'd been busy every time she was in their chambers, she had seen him almost exclusively in class. She'd gotten away with everything because of it. She'd even skipped her Transfiguration homework earlier in the week. She was certain that Minerva had told Severus, but he hadn't mentioned it.

"Ready?" Severus asked softly, wrapping his arms around her. He felt Elizabeth nod against his chest, and tightened his hold before apparating away to the beach of Shell Cottage.

"This isn't our cottage," Elizabeth said, not quite releasing her hold on Severus' waist, but turning her head to see where they were.

"No, it is not," Severus affirmed, rubbing her back with one hand. "How do you feel?"

"Okay," Elizabeth said, still not letting go. "It's getting easier."

"Good," Severus moved her to his side, but kept his arm around her. "Let's go inside."

"Why are we here?" Elizabeth asked as Severus opened the door.

"You and I, my child, need to take care of some things."

"I didn't do anything," Elizabeth said automatically.

Severus raised an eyebrow, "That appears to be the problem in Transfiguration, at least," he frowned. "However, we have other things to discuss before we get to your homework issues." He handed her the shrunken trunk. "Take that upstairs, we'll unpack later."

"Which room?"

Severus smirked. "Any room, save the Master, of course."

Elizabeth headed up the stairs, and Severus took a deep breath. Already, he felt the load on his shoulders lighten slightly. Just being out of Hogwarts, away from the immediate reminders of how dire the situation was, eased the strain. Pulling off his robes and hanging them in the cupboard near the front door, he looked around. He'd have to go into town for food in the morning.

He'd neglected to pack for himself, but transfiguring his waistcoat, shirt-sleeves, and trousers into pajamas wouldn't be difficult. He went into the kitchen, finding tea and a kettle without too much trouble. He had water boiling by the time Elizabeth reappeared.

"Are you mad?"

Severus looked at her seriously. "For not completing academic work? Certainly."

"Anything else?"

Severus smirked, "You've been on quite the downward spiral lately, my child. I blame myself for not stopping this nonsense when it began. I was distracted," he poured two cups of tea. "However, you won't need to worry about that anymore. I've neglected my duties as your father recently, but I aim to set that right, starting with this trip." He handed her one of the cups and pointed to the living room.

Elizabeth sat on the sofa and waited while Severus put his tea on the side table and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Let's start with the fact that if Mr. Weasley ever sets foot in your bedroom again, I will deprive him of at least one of his limbs."

"You knew about that?"

"I know everything that happens in my home, young lady." Severus fixed her with a piercing glare. "And let me be clear. I will not be a grandfather before I'm forty."

"Dad!"

Severus scowled, "Don't 'Dad' me, young lady. Boys want one thing—

"Not Fred," Elizabeth grumbled.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Elizabeth colored, not sure that Severus was going to be on her side in this. "He says it's disrespectful when I'm still living under your roof."

"Well," Severus cleared his throat. "He is correct."

"It was the night I found Sirius," Elizabeth said quietly. "I just didn't want to be alone."

"Another thing I should have put a stop to. In fact, I will. When we return to school, you will move down to the Dungeons permanently."

"Dad!"

Severus waved his hand dismissively. "I don't want to hear it. You've proven over and over that you cannot be trusted to stay in the Tower where you belong, and since your grandmother can't keep her house under control, you'll stay where I can keep an eye on you." He began to pace. "Until future notice, you will be in our chambers directly after dinner, working on homework, since it isn't being completed. Clear?"

Elizabeth grimaced, "I guess."

"Elizabeth Rose," Severus said warningly.

"Yes, sir," Elizabeth dug her toe into the carpet.

"In addition, you'll do well to remember yourself when you're speaking to me. You've been far too flippant lately, and I won't have it any longer. I am your father, and you will speak to me accordingly. Is that clear?

"Yes, sir."

"Alright," Severus sat in one of the wing-backed armchairs. "We come to the matter of Potions class the other day."

"What?" Elizabeth said nervously.

"Professor Slughorn said you did very well," Severus said gently. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Could have been a fluke."

"Elizabeth," Severus said quietly. "Tell me."

"I can't be good at Potions?" Elizabeth glared at him. "I just followed the instructions."

Severus frowned, and drew his wand. "Accio the book Elizabeth uses for Potions."

The book zipped down the stairs and into his hand. Severus looked at the cover. "This is what you were reading when you came to the door today," he said, turning it over. "I hate these covers."

"It's mine," Elizabeth said, reaching for it.

Severus raised an eyebrow, "I've never known you to be possessive over a textbook," he flipped the book open, pausing when he saw the writing on each page. "Where did you get this?" He asked slowly.

"Slughorn," Elizabeth looked at him nervously. "I forgot mine the other day."

"Hmm," Severus studied the pages for a minute, a soft smile playing with the corners of his mouth. "Well, I suppose Slughorn was right when he said you'd inherited my talent. You just didn't do it the way he thinks."

"What?" Elizabeth looked at him incredulously.

Severus took his wand and vanished the cover, looking at the back of the book. "The Half-Blood Prince," he said fondly. "Arrogant prat, wasn't I?"

"You?" Elizabeth sat forward. "Not Voldemort?"

Severus looked at her in surprise. "You thought this was the Dark Lord's possession, and you continued to use it?"

Elizabeth looked guilty. "But it wasn't."

"Hmm," Severus set the book on the side table near his tea. "Go upstairs and get the Felix Felicis."

"It's in my room in the Dungeons," Elizabeth said. "In my sock drawer."

Severus nodded. "When we return, I will put it in safe-keeping for you. You don't need any more excuses to be reckless." He looked at her, then at the book. "Hatchling," he said softly, "why didn't you tell me about the book?"

Elizabeth looked down at the carpet. "Wanted you to be proud of me," she mumbled.

"And you thought I wouldn't be if I knew you'd used my notes?" Severus rose and moved to the sofa, putting one arm around her shoulders. "I am proud of you, Elizabeth Rose. Always."

Elizabeth buried her face in his shoulder, fighting back tears. "Everything's messed up."

"I know," Severus said soothingly, running one hand over her hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have allowed this situation to distract me from what was going on in your life."

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"What's going on that you aren't telling me?" Elizabeth looked up at him.

Severus paused, balanced on the edge of telling her about her fate. The thing that had terrified him into letting her get her way for the last weeks.

"Nothing," he said quietly. "Everything is going to be fine." The words felt strange in his mouth.