A/N: This chapter is dedicated to new follower 00Dark-Pheonix00! Welcome to the family, welcome to the ride, and I hope you continue to enjoy this crazy party!

-C

As soon as Minerva let it slip out, Lydia knew where the suggestion had come from. Lydia never had to guess where suggestions of putting Harry Potter in possibly bodily harm would come from. He didn't even bother pretending not to know why she was angry when she found him in their quarters that night after dinner.

"I merely suggested Hagrid might have use of such a large number of students serving detention," Severus said, pouring himself a cup of tea.

"You knew Hagrid was going into the forest to look for whatever is going after the unicorns!"

"Whomever," Severus said softly.

"What?"

Severus turned toward Lydia in a smooth, gliding motion, and she realized she was frozen by being taken aback by his correction.

"Saying 'whatever' suggests that the attacker is a beast of no sentience," Severus said. "I believe the very ability to catch and kill a unicorn suggests sentience."

"Or incredible speed and strength," Lydia said, frowning. She wasn't an expert on creatures by any means, but she supposed by the curl of Severus's lips at her suggestion that this showed through. She cleared her throat. She wasn't sure what she was about to say, but Severus spoke first, saving her from floundering.

"They have a chaperone, and the detention was approved by Minerva and Albus. It's not like there's any werewolves running around that forest…anymore. With Hagrid, they are safe enough."

"Safe enough?" Lydia said, fuming.

"Do you honestly think," Severus said with a sneer, "that I would put Lucius's precious heir in obvious and mortal danger just for the sake of getting rid of Potter?"

She did think it was possible, but she had to admit, it wasn't likely. There would be other, cleaner, easier opportunities, should Severus actually want to kill Harry. She sank only the sofa and crossed her arms.

"Honestly, Lydia, don't pout," he said, rolling his eyes. "They'll be in classes just like everyone else, and everything will be fine. Besides, he vanquished a mountain troll, or have you forgotten?"

"Technically, I think you'd say Ron Weasley vanquished the troll," she said, trying not to smile. "But I suppose the point stands."

Severus snorted, but she was grateful that he didn't argue with her. Instead, he sat beside her, slipped his arm around her, and offered her a sip of his tea, which she declined. She watched the steam rise off it, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"If anything happens to him—"

"It won't," he said, squeezing her shoulder. "And if it does, you have my permission to hex me."

She rolled her eyes.

"If I ever knew any good hexes, I've forgotten them all now. I doubt I did them properly to begin with."

Severus snorted, but he didn't argue. He wasn't trying to placate her with flattery, which she appreciated. She liked that he didn't butter her up. It helped her to almost trust his compliments.

She watched the clock, paced the room, read a few chapters in her book, and finally Severus snapped his own book shut and said, "This is absurd, Lydia. It isn't as if anyone would rush to tell you whether they're alright or not. Assume they are. If they are not, you'll hear at breakfast. You need your sleep."

Lydia didn't want her sleep. She wanted to camp out in the Gryffindor common room. She wasn't sure what the current password was, but she thought she might be able to make a decent appeal to the Fat Lady to get in anyway. Sirius and James had always managed to get in, even talked her into changing the password in their favor for a few pranks. Lydia wasn't half as charming, but at least they had rapport.

"Sleep," he said again, collecting her vial. He tested the seal, then broke it, and Lydia frowned. She knew if she didn't drink it now, he'd throw it away, too concerned that someone could tamper with it while the seal was broken. He was counting on her aversion to waste to help him get his way. He tested the potion, appeared satisfied, and held it out to her.

Lydia sighed, rolled her eyes, and accepted the vial. She ran her thumb over the glass, frowning. She walked into the bedroom, sat on the bed, and tossed back the potion. Severus was in the doorway, watching her. She had a feeling he was keeping something specific from her, but she knew she wasn't going to tease it out tonight, so she settled into bed. She lifted a hand, and Severus hesitated before he came and sat beside her, on the edge of the bed, setting his hand in her hand.

"You're not coming to bed?" she asked. Her eyelids were already heavy.

"I won't sleep for a little while," he said. Again, she had the feeling he wasn't saying something. She squeezed his hand, although she knew it was weak. He frowned. "I want to take some measurements. The potion may not be working as it should, and I want to see if there's a change in how you sleep, regardless of nightmares. Body chemistry changes, perhaps a tolerance built up. I want to see what I can learn while you're asleep."

"Don't stay up too late," she whispered, letting her eyes close.

"I won't," he whispered. She felt his lips on her temple, and then her hand was cold. She didn't have long to process that he stood beside her, that he said something her brain couldn't piece together, and then she fell into darkness.

The next morning, all the students who had been out for detention were at breakfast, technically safe and sound. Draco seemed quiet, Harry looked a bit pale, but theoretically, nothing was wrong.

"Do I have to say it?" Severus said, tipping some bacon onto her plate.

"You know as well as I do," Lydia whispered, "that a person isn't fine just because they look it."

Severus didn't say anything, and he didn't frown, but she could feel him go a bit stiff beside her. She knew he understood her point, but she didn't mind that he wasn't going to acknowledge it in public. She didn't really want to talk about the past in front of others, anyway.

She had one of her last sessions with her seventh year students before their N.E.W.T.s, and she was nervous for them. She arrived early for class, set out their research assignments, fully marked, and wrote an equation on the blackboard. Then she paced the classroom. She thought over everything they'd done in the last months to prepare. She thought about every individual session, every question she'd been asked, every weak point she'd helped bolster. She thought of her own exam, and then she wished she hadn't, because she thought of Sirius watching her, staring at her while she worked.

Before she could clear her head, the students began to file in, and they, too, looked nervous. They pulled out parchment and began habitually working on the problem she'd left on the board. Lydia watched them work, marveling, as she always did, how they had grown from scared thirteen-year-old children into young men and women. They would leave here and join the Ministry, or the paper, or the bank, or some other workforce. Some would work in shops and some would trial for Quidditch. Some would work for radio, and some would attempt to create art.

One of the students in the back corner chuckled, and Lydia smiled. She turned her back on the students, letting them slowly realize her little joke, one by one. When she was satisfied from the sound of muffled and relieved laughter, she turned back around and addressed them.

"Sometimes," she said, gesturing to the board, "we forget that the simplest way really can be the best. Sometimes the answers hide in plain sight. Sometimes all you need is a basic charm, a two-ingredient potion, or a one-step calculation. Don't overthink.

"Your exams are important. I'm not going to pretend that they're something you can just laugh off, otherwise our last five years of work would be pretty pointless. But you didn't get to this point without being prepared, or you'd have been booted from my class a long time ago. And maybe you need this N.E.W.T. for your job, but most of you don't. Remember, there's enough in this world to stress about already. You don't need to worry more than you must. You've done everything you can do. Now it's time to make sure you're in the best possible position to take an exam."

"How do you mean, professor?" one of the Gryffindors asked.

"We talked, a couple of years ago, about balance," Lydia said. She sat on the edge of her desk, and the students sat up straighter, nodding. "I don't think I need to tell you that it's just as important for N.E.W.T.s as it is for O.W.L.s. It may even be more important. Now, how many of you are thinking about how much sleep you're getting?"

A few students slowly raised their hand, and the rest had the good grace to look sheepish. Lydia smiled, but she didn't speak for a long moment. She let it sink in that they were neglecting themselves for a moment, and then she asked about food. Were they eating enough, and were they eating the right things? The same few students raised their hands, but one other hand went up. The girl in question didn't surprise Lydia, as she was a Quidditch player and a health nut.

Lydia raised her hands to her shoulders, palms up, and said, "There isn't much time left. You could cram your head full of things, and potentially risk forgetting what truly matters. Or you can rely on the last five years of hard work we've put in and focus on something you can actually make a difference on. Get enough sleep. Eat the right food. Get some sunshine. Laugh a little."

"Do you take much time when you're working for those things?" one of her Ravenclaws asked. "I've always thought brilliant people kind of lock themselves away a bit."

"Some do," Lydia said, laughing. "But I tell you what, I've never met a properly brilliant person who didn't make time for meals, sleep, and a little bit of fresh air. That's not to say that the rest of their hours aren't totally consumed with their work, but you can't sustain thinking at any level if you aren't taking care of the body."

The students nodded, and she pulled some butterbeers out of a cabinet. They laughed again, and she waved her wand to pass them around. When every student was happily drinking a butterbeer, she said, "What's your biggest fear about the exams?"

"That I'll fail them all," one girl said.

"That I won't get the scores I need."

"I'm worried I'll pass out in the middle of the week," one girl said with a laugh. "I nearly fainted during my O.W.L.s for Charms."

Lydia nodded, taking in all their fears, letting each student vocalize what was the most stressful to them. They were pretty much of a kind: fear of not being good enough, and fear of making a fool of themselves. She didn't have to tell them why she'd asked them to speak. Once more than half had spoken, they seemed to look around, realizing what she had hoped they'd see. None of them were alone. Many of them had the same fears and insecurities. Most of the room palpably relaxed, and just in time for Lydia to dismiss them, with a few last-minute words of encouragement.

Lydia went to her office immediately after, and she made herself a cup of tea. Some days, she still didn't feel like a particularly good teacher, but she always enjoyed sending off students to exams. Even if she didn't feel the group was fully prepared, she always had a chance to remind herself of just how far they'd come.

She settled in, musing on how this particular group had been when they first entered her classroom, apart from more numerous than they are now. She was just trying to recall their answers to her initial questions when someone knocked her to door, and she told them to enter. She was pleasantly surprised to find Severus entering.

"I thought you had a meeting," she said. She gestured to the teapot, and Severus inclined his head. She poured him a cup.

"The student in question is currently in the infirmary," Severus said. His tone suggested that she didn't want to ask what the student was in for. "As it stands, I have some mail that arrived for you after you'd left for classes."

"And it wasn't delivered directly to me?" she said.

"There was a letter for me as well."

He handed her the sealed letter, obviously from Narcissa. Lydia wondered whether his letter had been from Narcissa or from Lucius, and she knew the timing of the letters was not insignificant. After the detention Draco just served in the forest, the letters could say almost anything. Severus took his tea to the window to give her a bit of privacy, and Lydia broke the seal.

Lydia,

Lucius will not be filing a complaint for Draco's detention, no matter what Draco says. We have…reached an agreement. I may not be excessively fond of the idea of my son in the forest, but I trust the systems at Hogwarts. No one's died there in some time, and no one has died from detention for even longer. Lucius was a bit sour, but I understand why Draco received detention, and if this was the best option, then so be it.

As summer fast approaches, I wonder whether you and Severus might wish to join us at the manor for lunch or tea, at some point. I would understand if you didn't wish to be around my husband more than necessary, but it would be very pleasant to see you, and I want to leave Draco as little as possible for the limited time I have him around between terms. If you choose to decline, I will, however, set aside time to visit Spinner's End.

-Narcissa

Lydia sighed, turned the letter over, and then read through it again. She did feel relief that Narcissa was such a reasonable woman, and that she had some measure of control over her husband. But a little shiver went down Lydia's spine as she reread one particular line: "No one's died there in some time…"

She thought of Mary's pale corpse, the blood trickling off her toes, and Sirius's arms around Lydia, so tight and strong and warm. Severus was watching her now, and Lydia set the letter down.

"Well?" he said.

"She has some control over Lucius, it would seem," Lydia whispered. "She has exercised it. She wonders whether we would want to take tea or lunch at their home at some point this summer."

"At Malfoy Manor?" Severus said with a sneer. "Well, we can discuss that later. That's not the reason you just looked like you'd seen the dead."

Lydia frowned at the parchment and took a few sips of her tea. She didn't argue when he crossed to her desk and picked up the letter, reading it over for himself. It took only moments for him to find the line.

"Lydia," he whispered. Pity. He pitied her. "I'm sure she forgot. She'd graduated by then, after all."

"Yes," Lydia said. She set down her tea. "I'm sure she didn't think of it. Narcissa is nothing if not careful, and she wouldn't have purposefully said something like that and then invited me for tea in the same letter."

"She'd be mortified at the unconscious insinuation."

Lydia closed her eyes. She didn't really care right now about how Narcissa felt, or what she'd meant, or how she could have forgotten something Lydia could never forget. What she cared about was somehow getting any image at all in her head except the sight of Mary hanging from the rafters.

"Exams will be a long and strenuous thing this year, I expect," Severus said quickly.

"Sev—"

"You need plenty of rest. You give too much of yourself to your students."

She wanted to tell him that he didn't give enough of himself, but she needed to focus on the point of the matter, on what they were really talking about.

"I am working on adjustments to the potion," he said. "But they may not be enough."

Lydia nodded. That was one benefit to being at Spinner's End. She almost never had nightmares there, and the potion was unnecessary. Severus could get the sleep he required, and Lydia could get natural sleep, and she wouldn't have to wake with bruises on her neck or her heart pounding out of her chest, or any of the fear she felt so often when night rolled around at Hogwarts.

She whispered, "What do you suggest if they're not enough?"

Severus did not look at her. She watched him stare out at the grounds, and she wondered what he saw when he looked out there. Did he see scenery? Did he see beauty? Did he see memories, like she did, of what it had been like to be a student walking those grounds? Everywhere she looked, it seemed, Lydia saw ghosts.

"I don't know," he said.

The words were almost too soft to hear, and Lydia was sure for a moment that she'd dreamed them. Severus always had a plan. Severus always had an answer, even if she thought it was a bad one, even if it wasn't the answer she wanted. Lydia rubbed her temples and looked at the cup of tea in front of her, unfinished. She prayed it would be enough, the adjustments Severus made to the potion. Because if there was one thing she knew about him from all their years of friendship, it was that desperation drove Severus to places only monsters willingly went.

A/N: So, Lydia and Severus have a small spat about Harry's detention in the forest, Lydia tries to remind her N.E.W.T. students about life balance, and Severus tries to remind Lydia about life balance. Right now, I'm drafting another altercation between Lydia and Lockhart, and I'm almost a bit disappointed that second year isn't lasting forever. But then, I remind myself that after second year we get to third year, and let's be real, this is what we're all waiting for, isn't it?

Review Prompt: What's an example of your lowest point in work-life balance? How did you know you were off the rails? I'll share mine. When I was in undergrad, I had to write a thesis. Toward the end of my thesis time, I was basically living in the computer lab, staying up and working there, taking breaks to walk up to my dorm and make more tea or pour more water. If I was feeling really sleepy, I'd take a shower. When I finished my edits, before sending it to the print center, I took a break to shower as a reward. I only realized this was NOT NORMAL when I was taking a survey to get a couple of bucks and it asked me to chart all my beverages from the last twenty-four hours. I had about thirty beverages, and the survey was not sure it wanted to receive my answer, because my numbers were so far outside what people typically consume. It kept asking me if I were sure.

-C