Author's Notes - Sorry for the delay in updating. I hope the longer chapter will make up for it. Thanks to FleurSuoh and SpencerReid for reviewing the last chapter. Comments are always appreciated, and I am usually prompt about replying when there is no water pouring into my ceiling from a leak in the roof!


Walking into Remus Lupin's office, Snape sneered at the vast array of magical junk strewn about. There were broken sneakoscopes and a piece of a foe glass, phony protection amulets and cracked wands. In a cage near his desk, a Red Cap paced back and forth, and the trunk on the floor rattled violently, the unexpected motion betraying the boggart no doubt inside.

"Lupin, a word."

Remus Lupin regarded his fellow teacher with no little surprise and a pang of embarrassment.

"I promise you, Severus, that I had no idea you were Mr. Longbottom's greatest fear. If I had, I would not have chosen him to go first against the boggart. I assure you that there was no intent to humiliate you whatsoever."

Snape had a sick feeling that whatever the wolf was rambling about, it was definitely humiliating. However, he had more pressing business to attend to.

"Much as your garbled apology intrigues me, the form of Mr. Longbottom's boggart is not why I am here. I find myself in need of a . . . favor."

While he had made the word favor sound like a rotten pumpkin dunked in effluent, Remus smiled nonetheless. "Anything that's within my power, Severus. I am truly grateful that you offered to brew the Wolfsbane Potion. I know it's complicated and time consuming."

He wrestled with conflicting desires. On the one hand, he wished to do nothing more than curtly inform the wolf that he had done no such thing. Dumbledore had assumed he would brew the potion, and hadn't given him the option of refusing. On the other hand, he could use that misplaced gratitude to his own advantage.

"Quite." Raising an eyebrow, he deliberately smirked. "Do you not wish to know what I would have you do first?"

The thin wizard wearing the tatty, patched robes grew solemn. "I trust you, Severus, and we both know that I owe you a debt for far more than the Wolfsbane Potion."

Snape's mouth opened in shock before he had the presence of mind to close it. Of all the things Lupin could have said, he had not expected that. Anger surged through him at the reminder of how close he had come to dying at the hands of the Marauders, but he made a conscious effort to ignore it. Still, his reply was stiffer than he had intended.

"You do. However, you should have no qualms about fulfilling this particular request. In fact, I would caution you against performing it too enthusiastically. Miss Potter is, first and foremost, a student, and considering the threat to her at present, I expect you to refrain yourself from glorifying certain aspects of the past."

"This is about Rose?"

He frowned at the overly familiar use of her first name. "It is. It has come to my attention that few have shared stories of her parents with her. I had hoped you would be willing to do so."

"You wish me to tell Rose about James?"

He winced at the incredulity in Lupin's voice. "I believe I said parents, which, of necessity, includes Potter. However, I expect that you will be able to give her what she most desires, memories of her mother when Miss Potter was as an infant."

The embarrassed expression returned to Lupin's face, and Snape had an odd, blinding flash of insight. Finding someone to speak of Lily as a mother was going to be more difficult than he had expected. He wasn't surprised to hear the wolf's excuses.

"Unfortunately, I don't have those stories to tell. After graduation, I traveled to China to pursue a cure for lycanthropy that the Red Dragon Faction had supposedly perfected. It took me months to discover that their cure was no more than a stolen copy of the Wolfsbane Potion. I didn't even attend the wedding. James and I owled each other often, but I didn't hear much from Lily."

"Surely there is someone."

"Lily was in the Order, but most of them are dead, Severus. Plus, she and James were forced into hiding as soon as her pregnancy became known. She spent the better part of two years cooped up in the house in Godric's Hollow. I know James would sneak out from time to time, but she refused to put Rose's life in jeopardy to do the same. Molly knew her, but not well; she was busy taking care of her own children. I'm sure she could tell Rose a story or two, though."

Molly couldn't. He had already flooed her to ask, finding the assumptions he had made about Lily and her relationship to have been completely wrong. She had been forced to quit the Order when Bill had been born with a heart defect. It had taken two years of treatments at St. Mungo's before the problem could be resolved.

A flood of all too familiar guilt washed over him. Lily had always been gregarious. To have been shut up in the confines of a small house for almost two years must have been torture. It was a wonder she hadn't gone completely insane. If only he hadn't given the Dark Lord the prophecy. If only he hadn't taken the mark. If only he hadn't called her that wretched name.

"Severus?"

Jolted back to the present, Snape apologized for his inattention and quickly took his leave. His thoughts were too dark at that moment to endure the company of others, especially one who had caused him such pain. He desperately needed to be alone.

Ducking into the kitchens, he left with a sack full of food. The thought of eating in the Great Hall where students and staff alike could gossip about him was too much to cope with at the present. Yet, he couldn't endure the thought of eating alone in his quarters. He needed fresh air and the sun on his face to snap him out of his growing melancholy. Knowing it was too early in the term for students to be out studying on the grounds, he made his way to the lake as swiftly as he could.

Laboriously, he sat down near the tree—the one where he and Lily had spent many happy hours together as students and one horrible, disastrous minute. For a while, he relived that scene over and over again in his head, the sack forgotten beside him. And, then the setting sun kissed his cheek, sending warmth all the way to his toes. Looking at the sky, he smiled half-heartedly.

"No doubt you'd tell me to stop wallowing in guilt, Lily, but I'm afraid that is more difficult in practice than theory."

Still, he began to rummage in the sack, pulling out a crisp, sweet apple. As he ate, his thoughts turned towards the good times he had shared with his friend until he found a measure of contentment. Glad that he had made the arduous trip from the castle to the lake, he pulled out a bottle of pumpkin juice and began to drink.

He saw the dog as it approached, choking on his juice at the sight before him. The Grim had, indeed, come to Hogwarts, and it looked very much like the devil that had tried its best to kill him once before. His cane was out of reach, but he pulled himself up using the trunk of the tree, scraping his fingers in the process.

Although terrified at the prospect of facing an animal that could well want him dead, Severus did not brandish his wand. If he faced a true Grim, there was nothing that could be done to save him from his fate. And, if the creature moving towards him was nothing more than a dog, he needed to learn to face his fears before lashing out with magic. His heart hammering in his chest, he warily watched the creature approach.

By the time it was close enough to touch, he realized that it was nothing more than a half-starved, mangy mutt. No doubt it had been attracted to the smell of the food. Intending to feed it some meat from his sandwich, Severus bent down to retrieve the sack, but his left leg unexpectedly gave out and he fell heavily to the ground.

Lying on his back on the patchy grass, he cursed his infirmity. And, then, he was being licked in the face by the dog.

"Get away," he complained with a theatrical groan. "Your breath smells horrid." The dog yipped at this but backed away, and he laughed at the absurdity as he carefully sat up. "Well at least you've been trained at some time," he announced while casting around for the sack.

"Accio sack," he commanded, and the substantial remains of his dinner flew into his hand. He pulled out two sandwiches and gravely offered to share one with the mutt. The black dog accepted his offering and finished it in two gulps. Smirking, he offered him the second sandwich, and watched with amusement as it also disappeared into the beast's mouth.

"That's all there is for you, I'm afraid. The only thing left is a piece of chocolate cake. As chocolate is poisonous to dogs, I shall claim it for myself without a shred of remorse."

He could have sworn the dog looked put out, but the animal gave one last, envious glance at the cake before bounding to the edge of the lake. As it lapped up water, Severus wondered if the mutt had any connection to the prophecy. Upon first glance, it definitely could be mistaken for a Grim. Who knew? Perhaps it was the Grim and had fallen on hard times. Perhaps he was meant to fatten it up before it killed him. That absurd thought brought a sardonic smile to his face. It would be just his luck to show kindness to something that intended to do him harm.

Summoning his cane, Severus was able to rise a little more gracefully this time, although his leg was still unstable. Walking uphill, however, proved to be a tiring, onerous task, which rapidly drained his good mood. Even the dog seemed upset, whining whenever he stumbled or had to pause to catch his breath.

Finally, he neared the castle. If he had been stronger, he would have taken the dog to Hagrid's. Instead he transfigured the sack into a collar and a willowy stick into a leash. The mutt could spend one night in the dungeons before going off with the half-giant. Though chilly, the dungeons would at least be warmer than the damp night air.

Looking over his shoulder to call the dog, Severus saw—nothing. There was no sign of the big, black beast anywhere. A superstitious shiver of fear ran down his spine. Perhaps he had met the Grim after all.

Nonsense, he finally decided. No self-respecting Grim would ever allow itself to sink to such an emaciated state. The dog must have been abandoned or lost in the woods near Hogsmeade and had somehow found its way to Hogwarts. He pocketed the collar and leash on the off chance that he might see the animal again. He knew Hagrid had a soft spot for dogs (all manner of beasts in fact) and would take good care of it.


Half dragging himself down the dim corridor, he yearned for his new sauna. Sitting in the hot steam would be therapeutic for his mind and body. Yes, some time spent in the sauna and then bed. He would feel better in the morning, and would definitely speak to Poppy about a regimen to strengthen his muscles. There was only so much a potion could do.

Halfway to his quarters, he was forcibly reminded that the sauna would have to wait.

"Professor? Is detention in your office tonight instead of the lab?"

Malfoy. Shit. He had forgotten entirely that he'd assigned detention to the boy. Tempting as it would be to cancel it, he wished to make an impression on his brightest Slytherin.

"Your powers of observation are formidable as always, Mr. Malfoy. Since I am walking towards my office as we speak, you may correctly assume that you will be serving your punishment there this evening."

"But there aren't any cauldrons to clean in your office, sir."

Stupid idiot—was he a Gryffindor or a Slytherin? "Again, your observation is flawless. Or was that a pathetic attempt at cheek?"

He could hear the fear in the blonde's voice, and reveled in it. "No, cheek, Professor. You mentioned cauldrons to Weasley and I just assumed . . . ."

"Never assume, Draco. Had your transgression merely been a simple insult towards me, you would be scrubbing cauldrons. However, considering your actions towards Miss Potter in my class, I find you need an abject lesson in chivalry. Or hasn't your father taught you that it's unsporting to torment a young lady?"

"Torment? You're talking about Rose Bloody Potter, aren't you? She's done nothing but torment me, Professor! Even chivalry has its limits when it comes to her."

Lighting the candles in his office with a quick Lumos, Snape had to mask his laughter with a cough and a sneer. Malfoy's reaction was particularly stupid considering his current mood. The spoiled brat would be forced to learn a valuable lesson tonight.

"Sit down, Draco."

Warily, the boy sat in the chair facing the Potions Master's desk. Once Snape heavily dropped onto his own chair, he brusquely asked for specific instances when Rose Potter had tormented him.

"Um," the boy uncertainly began, the righteous indignation momentarily wiped off his face. "I know! She deliberately distracted me during Quidditch last year, Professor, causing me to lose the Snitch and humiliate myself in front of my father."

Snape raised one disbelieving eyebrow. "You are the Slytherin Seeker, are you not, Mr. Malfoy? Isn't it your job to grab the Snitch no matter what form a distraction may take?"

Draco's temper snapped. "She flew so crazily that I couldn't help being distracted! She tricked me!"

Severus' voice turned oily and far too patronizing for the young Slytherin to mistake his meaning. "Are you suggesting, Mr. Malfoy, that Miss Potter charmed the Bludger to attack herself? Or do you believe her broken arm to have been a trick as well?"

Sulkily, he shook his head, all but admitting that he had lost the argument.

"Good. Now, as much as it might pain you to admit it, Rose Potter is a young lady, and you should treat her with some respect. Frankly, I would think a Slytherin would have the brains to treat anyone as powerful as the Girl-Who-Lived with some modicum of respect. Not many students have managed to kill a Basilisk, thwart the Dark Lord, subdue a troll and live to tell the tale.

Draco nodded sullenly, unable to counter his teacher's argument. "Sorry, Professor."

"I am not the one to whom you should apologize, which brings us to your first task. You shall apologize to Miss Potter for your behavior tomorrow morning at breakfast."

The boy looked at him like he had just sprouted horns. "But, breakfast is in the Great Hall! Everyone will see!"

Snape pretended to consider this. "Yes, I believe you're correct, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin for that most brilliant deduction."

"But, Professor Snape!"

Severus continued as if he hadn't heard Draco's complaint. "Tonight, however, you will write a letter to your mother, explaining exactly what happened in Potions Class and why you were compelled to commit such an ungentlemanly act."

This was too much for Draco, who immediately stood up, unconsciously trying to intimidate Snape. "But you promised you wouldn't owl my mum!"

This time, his black eyes held an unmistakable sparkle of amusement. "I'm not. You are. Now get writing."

Muttering curses under his breath, Malfoy began to scribble his letter onto the waiting parchment. After twenty minutes of desperately trying to stay awake, Snape gestured for him to hand it over. As tired as he was, he had to stifle his laughter at the ridiculously whiny missive.

Dear Mum,

Professor Snape is making me write this letter to you because he doesn't understand what an annoying witch Rose Potter is. She always picks on me, but no one ever takes my side because of who she is. Today, I was trying to be polite and warn her about Sirius Black, and the professor is blaming me for her cauldron blowing up and her being sent to the Hospital Wing. It's not my fault she got upset when I told her Sirius Black was trying to kill her. I can't believe I'm getting in trouble for trying to do something nice.

The professor actually gave me a lecture about chivalry. I don't think Rose counts as a girl, though. She has no respect for who I am, and treats me worse than Pansy Parkinson. You know how much I can't stand Pansy. Rose Potter has the entire school wrapped around her finger, and all the teachers favor her.

I hope you and Father are doing well. I apologize for having to send this letter. Professor Snape has finally succumbed to Potter hysteria just like the rest of the staff. He's as smitten with her now as that oaf, Hagrid. He's gone so far as to make me apologize to her in front of everyone tomorrow at breakfast. Please tell father of the insult to our family.

Love always,

Draco

Rolling up the parchment, Severus could not wait to send it. He wasn't quite sure how Narcissa would receive it, but she would berate her son for the whinging tone of the letter if not for his deed. Besides, he had a genuine interest in helping the boy. Narcissa Black, although several years older than he, had been one of the few people to show him kindness in school. She didn't deserve a spoiled, arrogant child like Draco.

Conserving his remaining strength, he spoke tersely. "Good night, Mr. Malfoy."

"That's it?"

"For now," he answered with enough emphasis on the now to remind Draco of the requirement that he apologize to Rose.

Hardly daring to believe that his detention had lasted only half an hour, Draco practically ran out of Snape's office, lest the Potions Master change his mind and make him clean cauldrons after all. Severus, however, had no desire to postpone the trip to his quarters any longer. As soon as the sound of Draco's boots had disappeared, he struggled to stand, and, leaning against the wall of the hallway, managed to make it to his rooms.

Albus must have charmed the door to alert him to his entrance because no sooner had he stepped inside, his floo lit with green flames. Cursing under his breath, Snape hobbled his way to the fireplace.

"Yes?"

"Ah, Severus. I was growing concerned about you, my boy. Do you mind if I pop in?"

Of course he minded. He wanted some hot water and steam on his body and then a good night's rest.

"Not, at all, Headmaster."

That evening, Dumbledore's robes had been charmed to flash every color of the rainbow in sparkling neon. The effect was similar to a disco ball being turned on in a too small room. Snape had to immediately look away when the garish ensemble brought black spots to his eyes.

Noticing Severus' reaction, he took out his wand and easily changed his robe back into pastel violet, explaining as he went. "A project of the seventh year Charms students. I believe Filius was thankful for my willingness to be the test subject."

Snape's lips twitched. "No doubt." Then, tired of standing, he offered Dumbledore a seat before relaxing on his couch. In contrast to his rooms at home, his quarters at Hogwarts were filled with tasteful antiques. Everything was neat and tidy, although the decorative touches were a bit sparse. Here, rather than Spinner's End was the Potions Master's true home, as was evident by his easy manner with his unwelcome guest.

"Why are you here, Albus?" he asked, too weary to be anything but blunt.

For once, Dumbledore didn't make light of his question before answering. "I was worried about you, Severus. After I heard about Neville Longbottom's boggart and did not see you in the Great Hall for dinner, I worried that you were too upset to eat. I tried to send a plate to your rooms, but you were out."

Sidetracked for a moment, he satisfied his curiosity first. "Lupin has already apologized for the incident, although I would like to know why you would assume I would be so upset. What, exactly, did Mr. Longbottom's boggart look like?"

Dumbledore blinked and then leaned back in his comfortable armchair. "Ah. I had hoped not to be the one to tell you, Severus, although neither Mr. Longbottom nor Remus are to blame. The child's boggart was you, and to combat it, Professor Lupin suggested the boy visualize his boggart in his grandmother's clothes."

He covered his hands with his face, completely mortified. When he had calmed down enough to look up, the Headmaster was staring at him with too much compassion in his eyes. It made him distinctly uneasy.

"You mean to tell me that the third years saw an image of me dressed in Augusta Longbottom's atrocious hat and moth-eaten dresses?"

He knew he had said the wrong thing when the Headmaster smiled at the mention of him in a dress. "Only the Gryffindors, Severus."

"Of course it would be the Gryffindors. I may never eat in the Great Hall again."

"Have you eaten tonight, Severus?"

His left hand began to shake. What was he, a bloody child? Calming, he realized it was the perfect opportunity to bring up his encounter with the stray dog.

"Actually, I fed my sandwiches to the Grim."

When Dumbledore realized that he had not been joking, he immediately called for Dobby to bring a tray. "Perhaps you should eat as we discuss this, my boy. I have a feeling that your tale is a lengthy one."

He did appreciate the food. The apple had been small and the cake had not been filling. Snacking on some cheese and bread, he described his encounter with the half-starved stray from beginning to end. When he had finished speaking, Albus grew thoughtful.

"You say this animal resembles the one that attacked you in Surrey?"

"Only superficially, Headmaster. They are both large and black. To be candid, I could not tell you what breed of dog attacked me. It was dark and I was too focused on keeping its teeth away from my throat."

The older wizard lapsed into a thoughtful silence, which Snape broke when it had dragged too long.

"Do you think it is connected to the prophecy, Albus?"

"What?" he asked, clearly distracted. "The prophecy? Of course it pertains to the prophecy, my boy. The question is, how? I must consider this further. If you do manage to restrain it, inform me as soon as you take it to Hagrid's."

Standing up, his eyes twinkled once more. "Only you, Severus, could meet a Grim and feed him supper. Though, I'm confident that I'll see you alive and well in the Great Hall tomorrow morning at breakfast."

He ignored the implied command. "Goodnight, Albus."

"Goodnight, my boy. You look tired; you should get some rest."

He bit his tongue so he wouldn't feel obligated to mention that had intended to do just that before being interrupted by the Headmaster's visit. After Dumbledore had taken his leave, he dispiritedly lay down on the couch, his mind a jumbled mess.

How could he face his students when the tale of Neville's boggart had no doubt spread like wildfire throughout the school? He hated being the butt of jokes. It was too akin to the bullying he had encountered as a child at home and school.

For Lily's daughter, however, he would do it. Draco would be making his insincere apology to the girl in the morning, and he wanted to witness her reaction. It would tell him much about her state of mind.

But, Augusta Longbottom! Merlin's beard, why did it have to be her? The woman wore a dead vulture atop her head! That decided him more than his encounter with the mysterious Grim. The universe was out to get him.