Strange Oddities

Snarling in utter frustration with himself, Snape flopped back against his pillows and huffed loudly a few days later. He barely noted the retreating form of his physical therapist as she fled his room after he had lost complete control of his temper with her earlier. He hated this feeling of powerlessness, but above all he hated the need of having some wretched woman fussing over him and telling him to try to walk all the time. Didn't she understand that if it was just a matter of will on his part, he'd have been up and walking five minutes after being stabbed in the back? Honestly. Healers these days were getting stupider by the moment. As if he enjoyed being at the mercy of someone else all the time. Who the hell did she think he was? Malfoy?

He glared at the door when he heard the soft knock. It obviously wasn't his wife or daughter. They'd have just walked in. As the door opened slowly a moment later, Snape's black eyes darkened slightly before quickly lightening when he saw his daughter scramble in before the green-eyed man.

"Daddy!" the little five-year-old screamed happily, rushing to his bedside.

"I see you brought me a guest as well," he mildly stated. He frowned when he watched the other man gently pick Angel up so she could reach her father. His frown was short-lived, though. The moment his little girl was on his cot, she quickly snuggled up to her father, burying her face into his chest and hugging him fiercely.

"Mummy went home for a bit to work on the house or something and left me with Grandmum. Now, Grandmum said she's gotta go, too, to check on Mummy, so I'm s'posed to stay with you, Daddy. Grandmum's orders. Don't worry, though. I wasn't off by myself. He told Grandmum he was going to talk to you, so I came with. To make sure he didn't get lost, you know?"

Snape snorted, running a hand through his daughter's long blond curls. Merlin, she was too adorable for her own good sometimes. His mind then wandered. What could be taking his wife so long to return? She had said earlier before leaving that she was just going to make sure everything was in order for his arrival, so that'd just be a simple look about. A five minute deal tops. Yet, if she was still away after his hour-long therapy session, maybe something was wrong. He guessed that was why his mother went to check on Aurora then—to make sure nothing had happened to her.

"I'm sorry to bother you, sir," the man quietly said, clearing his throat not long after. "But—"

"You're going to anyway," Snape replied with a sigh. "What do you want this time, Potter?"

"We need to know how many members of the Inner Circle are still left."

"What? The Ministry doesn't have records of that?" he mocked.

"No, sir," Harry answered honestly. "It's been difficult since the Dark Mark vanished completely from people's forearms."

"Pity." He glanced down when Angel lightly hit his hand. Leave it to his five-year-old to tell him off. Just like her mother, she was. "I take it you have a list for me to look at?" He watched Harry nod before the man dug in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper. Just barely holding back his annoyance, he grabbed it from him and opened it. His eyes quickly trailed down the list before he sighed and shook his head. In a short amount of time, the remaining Death Eaters had been decimated.

"Besides me, two remain," Snape replied with a frown, handing back the note. "Draco Malfoy and Lazarus Mulciber."

"Then we were correct. Good." Harry quickly pocketed the note again. "They're both under our watch in secret locations. Mulciber isn't too thrilled with his place, but he's complying so far."

That definitely sounded like his old schoolmate. Mulciber wasn't thrilled about anything usually. Unless he was torturing someone, that was. Snape kept running his fingers tenderly through his little girl's curls as he thought on all the deaths. He didn't feel too heartbroken over the deaths, mind you, but he didn't feel happy about them either.

"Has Lucius regained consciousness yet?" He caught Harry's pained look instantly. "What is it?"

"Mister Malfoy succumbed to his injuries last night."

Snape closed his eyes and sighed. Narcissa was likely a wreck, as was Draco, he'd imagine. While Lucius might not have been a good man by any means, he was all about his family and tried to put them first with his decisions. It was one of his more redeeming qualities.

"I see." He frowned and shook his head.

"Yeah." Harry exhaled loudly and shifted his weight. He clearly wanted to say more, but was holding himself back for some reason. It was several minutes later before he finally spoke. "Well, I should leave you to rest. I just want you to know, sir, that we won't stop until we find your attacker."

"Oh? And just why am I so special, Potter?"

Harry blinked in surprise before he quickly cleared his throat. "Because you're a hero."

"Am I?" Snape snorted. "And just what heroic deeds did I do exactly?"

"You protected me and put yourself in danger to keep me safe all those years."

"I protected you solely because I felt guilty over your mother's death," he answered honestly. "A selfish act. Not this romanticized version you and everyone's come up with."

"That may have been why you started, but—"

"No, Potter. That remained my reason throughout the years. It never wavered."

"But what about Professor Sinistra? You loved her more than Mum obviously."

"My relationship with my wife is none of your business."

"Fine. Then what about the fact you nearly died for me, almost sacrificing all this?"

"Like I said before, a selfish act meant to absolve myself of my guilt. A form of penance in other words. Nothing more."

"I don't believe you. You're just being humble or something. You are a hero, Snape. I mean, you got an Order of Merlin!"

"Yes, due to your rousing propaganda about my supposed deeds. Otherwise, I'd have been in Azkaban. I'm not the good man you believed me to be, Potter. I'd have thought I made that clear over the years with how I treated you."

"You had to treat me like that to solidify your position."

"Oh? Is that right? Hmm. Interesting theory. But that's all it is. A theory. Fact is, Potter, I hated your guts. You reminded me every damn day of how I had failed to protect your mother. We won't even mention how much you looked like your arsehole father."

Snape heard his daughter's soft gasp and glanced down at her with a frown. He caught her soft giggles a moment later and shook his head. As if that was truly the first time she had heard him use profanity around her. He snorted in his head before he quickly covered her ears, not feeling like casting another Muffliato around them.

"And I get your anger about my dad. I do. He was a total prick to you. Honestly, Snape. You'd have been a better dad, I think. I mean, you loved my moth—"

"Shut it, Potter," he growled quietly, feeling his anger rise. "I don't need your pity."

"It's not—"

"I don't care," Snape hissed, glaring at Harry. "Your mother chose James. The end."

"But it had to—"

"Merlin above, shut up, Potter! Your mother and I would not have worked out. I assure you of that. Had we actually had a relationship her and I, I'd have had to change for her. She made it quite clear that it was either her or the Dark Arts. She didn't understand my fascination. She just found it to be evil. Do you understand what sort of life I would have had then? I'd have had to deny a part of myself just to stay with her. And, Merlin, help me if I dabbled in them accidentally and she found out about it. Your mother and I were polar opposites. Good as friends for a time when we were children, but horrible as lovers, I'd imagine. We wanted different things. And she got them with him."

He raised an eyebrow when he heard Harry's mumbling under his breath. No doubt the man was cursing him to hell and back for telling the truth. Snape didn't care, though. It felt good getting it all out finally. It was long past due that Potter learned the truth anyway.

"Fine. If you'll excuse me?" Potter grumbled.

"Of course." Snape gave a thin smile, proud of himself. He waited just until the man's hand was on the door to leave before he called out to him again. "While you're out searching for my attacker so dutifully, Potter, you should perhaps look into a woman named 'Natalia Sirov.' You'll find her records at the Ministry and at Hogwarts in the Headmaster's office. I'd imagine Dumbledore could direct you where exactly." He watched Harry's eyes narrow for a second before the man turned and left quietly.

"Oh, Mummy's gonna be mad," Angel said warningly. Her father only kissed her head, though.

~LEM~

Snape had thankfully been released from St. Mungo's finally. Now resting comfortably at his home in Cokeworth, he was quite glad for the respite from the bland walls that felt like prison to him. However, he wasn't quite ready to get up and move about on his own too much, though. He still needed to rely on his wife, but she rarely said anything as she helped him up. She likely knew how embarrassing it was to him, having to need someone like that.

He continued his physical therapy at home, practicing whenever he could. He soon found himself living for the enjoyable massages that came at the end. More than a few times, he found himself groaning inwardly at the feel of the therapist kneading his aching muscles. There, Aurora said a few things afterwards, but he could always tell that she was just trying to distract herself from something.

As his physical therapist left for the day several weeks later, he sighed contently and settled against the pillows. He was able to sit up on his own and push himself up to stand now. He could also take a few wobbly steps. His injuries weren't that great, of course, but the toxin on the blade had damaged some nerves in his back as well as sliced a muscle or two.

"Well, someone looks happy with himself," Aurora teased as she walked in with a tray of food. "Did she massage a little lower this time?"

"Hardly." He shook his head. It had become her long-standing joke over the past few weeks. His eyes briefly glanced at the tray before he sighed again.

"What? Not good enough?" she asked with a faint smile.

"No. Grilled cheese is fine," he replied as he watched her gently place the tray atop of his covered lap. "I merely thought we could eat together today."

She shook her head softly. "Unfortunately, I'm not really hungry right now. Next time, though."

He nodded and grabbed one of the diagonal slices. He silently took a bit and chewed, thinking back on the last time he'd had grilled cheese. It had been awhile.

"So, Angel and I went to see Poppy earlier for our check-ups," Aurora quietly announced.

"Oh? And how'd that go?"

"Good. According to Poppy, our daughter's in perfect health. I, on the other hand, am not."

He blinked and set his sandwich down. His entire focus was on her again. "What do you mean?"

"Let's see. There was a list." She laughed softly, running a hand through her dark curls. He had learned over the years this was signs nervousness and a coping mechanism. "I've been neglecting my sleep and not eating properly. I'm also extremely stressed currently, so I have high blood pressure."

He snorted. Of course his wife was stressed. She was nursing the worst patient known to man currently—him. If she hadn't been stressed, he'd have been concerned. She always worried herself to death over him. She had lost a good ten pounds five years ago when he had nearly died for Merlin's sake. Her weight loss was solely because she had stayed by his bedside, refusing to move for fear of losing him completely then. Several times he recalled her having to be pulled away by McGonagall.

"I'm not exercising enough or getting adequate sunlight." She rolled her eyes. "I'm wearing myself out, trying to do too many things at once. I'm not taking time to de-stress, nor am I having enough 'me' time." She then paused for a moment before saying flippantly, "Oh, and I'm pregnant."

"What?" His breath caught in the back of his throat. He had to have heard her wrong. Her warm eyes then met his, and he could see the sheer happiness. "You're pregnant?" he mouthed, staring at her in disbelief. He was going to be a dad again . . .

"I'm about three months along. I sort of guessed I was pregnant awhile back because of certain telltale signs, but I didn't feel like going to see Pomfrey to know for sure quite yet. I mean, I was planning on telling you at the restaurant during our anniversary, but then . . . you know." She sighed, her smile faltering for a second before she shook her head. "I didn't feel like springing it on you then. We had enough on our plate. Plus, too many times we've thought I was, only to find out that it was a false alarm. I didn't want us to be disappointed again."

"So, you decided to focus on me instead of our unborn child?" he lightly rebuked.

"Not exactly. I've been eating when I can, and I've been taking that nasty nutritional potion that I had to take last time with Angel. Luckily, Horace hasn't noticed the missing stock yet. I've been delegating my time among all three of you."

He frowned before he levitated the tray wandlessly and set it onto the nightstand. He then held an arm out to her before he said, "Come here, you foolish woman." Some days she was a right dunderhead.

"Severus," she started to say, her eyes softening.

"No. Come here, Aurora. Now," he firmly replied. His frown deepened when she didn't move. "You have to the count of three before I Accio you, witch."

"You wouldn't."

"One," he counted, his eyes holding hers.

"Severus, I'm not a child!"

"Two." He held his hand out further to her as if to prove his point that he would. He then watched her shoulders slump in defeat before she sighed and sat down before snuggling up beside him. "Thank you," he quietly said, wrapping an arm around her.

"I'm not an invalid."

"Never said you were. However, I am not going to be responsible for you collapsing or anything else that jeopardizes your life or our child's. Now, hush."

"You're not going to be super protective like you were last time, right?"

He glanced up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes. He was not super protective last time. So, he had her eat more meat some days. He merely wanted to make sure that she didn't end up anemic. She needed protein and iron, and her pathetic salads she always ate only went so far to provide that. He also may have made her take short naps whenever she yawned. She needed to store her energy for childbirth. His book on what to expect had told him that she'd need loads of it. And, well, he may have also made certain that she stayed far away from Mrs. Norris and McGonagall. Cats weren't good for the baby either according to his book. Nor were Cruciatus curses or magic of any kind, so he kept her far from the Carrows as well. He may have also altered her classes so she wasn't up until all hours of the night teaching pathetic students about the stars—and moved her classes from the Astronomy Tower to outside so she wouldn't walk up all those steps and run the risk of hurting herself. He only did what any other guy would do for his mother-to-be. What father-to-be wouldn't do that?

"Severus?"

"Of course not," he replied with an indignant huff. "And for the record, I wasn't overprotective last time either. You're merely exaggerating because you dislike my fussing."

"You cast a cushioning charm on me whenever I'd walk across the room!" she squawked.

"To ensure you didn't hurt yourself and the baby if you tripped," he explained. "It wasn't as if you could see your feet over your big belly after all." He winced when she hit him hard in the shoulder. On second thought that may have not been the best thing to say.

"Bastard," she grumbled under her breath.

He let the silence settle around them then. No doubt he would have to watch his tongue once more. He nearly had her in tears throughout her entire pregnancy from his accidental sharp words last time. Though, he couldn't take all of the blame. She had been pregnant with Angel during his first year as Headmaster. They had been forced to deal with the Carrows' abuse to the students, the Dark Lord trying to kill Potter, and the staff hating his guts. In other words, the most trying year they had ever had to endure together as a couple.

Keeping Aurora's pregnancy a secret from the staff, not to mention Death Eaters, hadn't been easy in the slightest. But it was a decision they had come to together. They both knew that it would have been too dangerous for both of them if anyone knew. So for her entire pregnancy up until the point she was in labor in the middle of the Great Hall during the Final Battle, she had used concealment charms to hide her belly. He had maintained their usual coldness to one another whenever they were near others, something they had adopted at the very start of their relationship. More often than not that year, he wanted just to throw aside his vow to protect Harry and be by his unborn child's mother's side. But he couldn't, so he didn't.

"Severus?"

He sighed. There went his silence for the night. "Yes?"

"Tell me a story," she whispered, drawing lazy circles on his chest. "One I don't already know."

"As you wish." He frowned, thinking before finally deciding to explain more about Natalia.

~LEM~

Twenty-one year old Snape looked onto the sight in front of him impassively. He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Natalia, his year-long partner in crime. He did his best to ignore the sickening feeling deep within his gut. It wouldn't do any good to sick up right then. He blinked several times as screams filled the room, but made no other facial movement of any kind. He drew in a slow breath a few moments later when he heard the low 'Avada Kedavra' followed by the blinding green light enveloping the last poor soul in the young group of girls.

"I trust this will serve as a reminder to you, Natalia," hissed the Dark Lord near their ears.

"Yes, my Lord," she replied shakily.

"Excellent." He chuckled darkly, his hand running down her cheek. "Do not fail me tonight, my dear, or it'll be you who suffers the same fate."

"I won't, my Lord."

"Good. Leave me then. Both of you."

Recognizing that she was unable to move otherwise, Snape grabbed a hold of Natalia's wrist and Disapparated them far away. They appeared in the safe house a moment later. He said nothing when she wrenched her hand back from his.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he mildly growled back, thoroughly annoyed with her. He glared as she paced near him. It was all her fault. She had nearly thrown all the hard work they had done this past year away for nothing. Idiot woman.

He couldn't fully explain it if he ever had to retell the memory again, because he still wasn't sure himself what the hell had happened to make it happen. But sometime during their hour-long bickering and snarling at one another after appearing in the safe house, he had yanked her close and slammed his lips atop of hers. He kissed her long and hard, and she slapped him as a result not long after. With the resounding sting still felt in his cheek, she then pulled him closer and snogged the hell out of him. It still confused him to that day about what happened. It made absolute no sense.

One moment they were fighting like cats and dogs, the next they were shagging up against the wall. Her nails caught his face and back, leaving deep marks on his skin. He left dark bruises on her inner thighs and back as he pounded her into the wall with all his might. It wasn't love. It wasn't even to make them feel better after witnessing what they had. It was pain, sheer pain meant to harm the other. To punish each other and themselves for failing. That was the only thing he could ever come up with.

He awoke later on the floor, stiff and sore. He frowned as he saw her curled up in a ball a little ways from him. He could see the deep purple bruises and red marks to her bare back and sighed. She looked like he had beaten her, but it was all from the hard, unforgiving stone wall. He slowly picked himself up off the ground and limped over to the cabinet to grab the bruise paste. His fingers had just curled around the bottle when he felt the sharp pain in his left forearm. The Dark Mark. It was time.

He quickly threw on his clothes, noticing that she was doing the same. So, it hadn't just been him that received the message then. Lovely. He placed his silver skull-like mask over his face and frowned. Tonight was supposed to be some important the Dark Lord had informed them. But neither he nor Natalia ever knew why exactly.

Now dressed in their menacing Death Eater robes again, they followed their earlier orders and Apparated to a Muggle village in northern England. They appeared in front of a church with their wands drawn, held loosely by their sides as they strode through the town. Nearby they could hear screams of the villagers, but they ignored it. They couldn't help them.

They ran down a back alleyway before Natalia suddenly reached to grab his arm to stop him. All around them was a series of red blinking objects. His eyes narrowed in temporary confusion before he found himself being shoved out of the way. Loud explosions then ripped through their alleyway, sending debris and fire through the air. He slammed hard onto the ground and yelled out as his head connected with something. Fighting against the darkness of his mind, he turned back to look at Natalia. His dark eyes searched wildly for her before he finally found her several feet from him surrounded by engulfed debris. He groaned in pain and crawled to her. He may not have liked her, but he wasn't about to let her die there either. Not after she just saved his life.

~LEM~

Snape quietly finished saying that Natalia had just saved his life when he felt his wife shift abruptly while she rested her head on his shoulder. He supposed she likely felt awkward with his retelling about his being with another woman. Aurora did have a bit of a jealous insecurity about her.

"Then what happened?" she softly asked, glancing up to look at him.

"I Disapparated us to Hogwarts. When I came to much later, I found myself in the hospital wing with Dumbledore sitting beside me." He sighed softly. "He informed me then that Natalia had succumbed to her injuries earlier. So, I left it at that. She wasn't the first person I knew who died after all. And we weren't that close. Acquaintances, maybe, but that was it."

"Must be nice to shut off your emotions and not care about others."

"I don't make comments about your coping mechanisms," he pointed out with a look.

She huffed and glanced up at the ceiling. For several minutes afterwards, the silence settled around them. He could tell that she was listening to his heartbeat, feeling her tap in cadence with it. He merely waited, knowing her better than he knew himself. Once she had her emotions back under control again, she'd talk.

"The guy she killed that you were talking about the other day," she quietly said. "Did you agree with her thoughts about him?"

"That he was scum?" he asked, watching her incline her head slowly a moment later. "His intentions were quite clear. He was going to have her if she agreed or not. She told him to stop multiple times, to let her go. He didn't. If anything, he became more violent with her." He frowned, recalling that memory vividly. "She may have led him on at first while testing his reactions in the pub—a stupid thing to do of course, but the moment she said stop, he should've listened and done so. He didn't, though. In fact, I briefly heard his thoughts at one point as I headed to them and heard all the vile, disgusting things he wanted to do to her. And all the things he had done before to other women."

"Do you think she knew that he was that bad?"

"Natalia always had an uncanny ability for knowing dark secrets. I had at first thought she was a Legilimens, but I never felt the prod of her mind. She had some other method to detect one's true thoughts. I never learned what it was." He shook his head. "She definitely bit off more than she could chew with him, though, and I think it scared her briefly."

"You said earlier that you didn't agree with her method."

"I don't agree with her. Frankly, she took her response to his vileness too far with him."

"Even though she was scared?"

"Yes. She should have never tested him like that. If she hadn't been a witch, she likely would've ended up being raped by him. However, he had a choice as well. Recognizing that when a woman says 'no' that she means it. She can be dressed however, flirt, but the minute she says 'no' it means no and you stop that second." He shook his head. "My mother told me repeatedly that if I don't stop when a woman says to, not only am I disrespecting the young lady I'm with, but I'd be disrespecting all women including my mother." He scoffed as the words from long ago echoed in his mind. Even to that day, his mother still could put the fear in him. "She also said that if she ever found out that I did that, the authorities would be the least of my concern."

"Remind me to send a 'thank you' card to her later," she teased before sighing. "I love you."

"I know."

At the sound of a sudden knock on the back door, he frowned. He gently pulled back from her and watched his wife silently leave the bedroom to answer the door. When she returned a moment later with Harry beside her, Snape openly groaned.

"Nice to see you, too, sir," Harry replied with a snort.

"What do you want now?"

Harry glanced towards Aurora for a moment before he cleared his throat and spoke. "I looked up this 'Natalia Sirov' like you suggested."

"And?" Snape urged.

"There aren't any records at Hogwarts or the Ministry of a 'Natalia Sirov.' I even asked Dumbledore's portrait. He said he never heard of that name, but he seemed—I don't know—sketchy about it like he was trying to hide something."

"The files were removed then?"

"That's what it seems like, yes."

Snape frowned, rubbing his scruffy chin. Now, that was interesting. Why would her files have been removed? To protect her identity obviously, but it led him to wonder about his files as well. Had he received the same treatment from Dumbledore? He decided to ask just in case.

"Did you find my records at all there?"

"Yes, sir. Just not hers."

"Impossible."

"Maybe." Harry shrugged. "Several files were missing according to the clerk at the Ministry. Supposedly that's happened a lot since the Final Battle."

"I see." He supposed he could see that on second thought. A lot of high-ranked officials in the Ministry had access to remove their files to escape punishment.

"Sir?" Harry cleared his throat when Snape glanced at him. "I have an idea. It's sort of crazy, but, well, it might help us learn your attacker's identity."

"How?"

"Hypnosis. It's used a lot by Muggle therapists to—"

"I'm aware of its use, Potter," Snape quietly growled. He exhaled a moment later and shook his head. That would certainly be an option. It'd allow him to recall details that he missed before.

"I don't mean to be an idiot," Aurora said with an awkward laugh as she held a hand up, "but are there any side effects to this?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Well, he might have some residual response to post-hypnotic suggestions for a time, but he should be fine."

Snape snorted. How kind of Harry to state he'd be fine afterwards. He settled further against his pillows and frowned. It would allow him to see what he missed. His eyes darted to his wife when she grabbed his hand suddenly. He merely inclined his head to her, feeling her pulse race beneath his hand. She was no doubt worried about him once more.

"I take it that you're experienced with this practice then?"

"I am. It's helped in some of my cases. I won't put you too far under, just enough for you to relay details to me. Shouldn't take more than an hour or so," Harry explained. "Professor Sinistra can remain here with you if you'd like."

"How considerate of you," Snape snidely replied. He glanced up when he felt Aurora's quick squeeze silently telling him to be nice. "Very well. Get it over with. I have tea time with my daughter and her stuffed animals in two hours that I refuse to miss." He heard Aurora's laugh instantly and smiled inwardly. It was a long-standing ritual between them that he secretly always looked forward to.

Snape followed Harry's instructions, resisting the urge to make snarky remarks all the while. He could feel himself slowly enter into his light trance a few minutes later as his eyes followed the swinging pocket watch in front of him. A part of his mind that was still working informed him that it was the Prewett watch Molly Weasley had given Harry as a gift when he came of age.

"You're at the restaurant with your wife for your anniversary." Harry's voice floated around him.

Snape could picture the scene perfectly. He then heard Harry mention about Snape leaving to head to the bathroom. He quickly followed himself, looking around to see if anyone had followed.

"You enter the bathroom then. You scan it. Do you see anyone?"

"Yes," Snape replied emotionlessly. "A man in a bowler hat at the urinals. He leaves shortly after I walk in." He looks about the bathroom once more, trying to see if he missed anything.

"Is there anyone else? Maybe at the toilets?"

"No. It's empty."

"Do you hear anything?"

"No." It was entirely silent.

"Do you feel anything? Maybe a prickling feeling to your neck?"

"No."

"What about smell?"

Snape inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. He could smell cleaner, bleach likely, from the freshly washed floors. He then smelled the green foamy soap from the dispenser beside him.

"Do you smell anything? Anything at all?"

He inhaled deeply again. Being a Potions Master, he was trained to use his nose to smell out ingredients in potions. It was one reason he actually liked having a large nose. It made it a hell of a lot easier to discern what ingredient was used. It also gave him an advantage over the others.

"The soap dispenser was leaking, giving off a mint-like smell."

"All right. And then?" Harry urged.

"The floors had just been washed as well with some sort of cleaner." There were numerous smells, some downright foul. It was difficult discerning them. But he quietly worked through each scent.

"Was there anything that smelled out of place? Like butterbeer?"

Snape shook his head. Everything pretty much smelled like a normal men's bathroom. He glanced at himself in the mirror, recognizing as he saw himself stuff the large velvet box into his pocket that he was about to be stabbed. It was important for him to focus so he didn't miss anything. He closed his eyes once more and inhaled deeply again. There had to be something there that he missed before. No one was that good. All he had to do was find it, and then he'd have his attacker over a barrel.

"All right." He snapped his fingers loudly a moment later.

Snape's eyes opened immediately afterwards as he came out of his trance and sighed. "Unfortunately, Potter, the only other thing I could smell is Aurora's perfume, and we both know she wasn't there with me when I was stabbed." He caught Aurora's quick glance down and shook his head.

"Well, it was worth a try," Harry replied. "I'll see if I can figure something else out. Thank you, sir. Goodbye." The green-eyed man then silently left the room, leaving them alone again.

"Your perfume is quite memorable in my mind, it'd seem," he remarked dryly, pulling her down beside him on the bed. He held her close as she remained strangely silent, likely worrying as always. "We'll find him or her soon enough, Aurora. And then we can put all this behind us." He felt her kiss his hand soon after and relaxed. It'd be all right soon enough. He knew it.