DAHLIA could not ignore the pit churning in her stomach as she and McGonagall finally came to a stop near the furthest end of the cemetery. She could no longer see Severus and hadn't the faintest idea of how long he would be gone, only that Rita's words had crept under his skin and gotten to him. Bubbling frustration welled within her stomach at just thinking of the witch with her penchant for poison-pen stories with that damned Quick-Quotes Quill she vowed to break in half, should Rita dare show her face to her again. She tried to ignore the sense of foreboding that welled within her, as in an effort to distract herself from thoughts of Rita Skeeter, she looked at Minerva instead.

Her stomach went hollow as Minerva McGonagall's expression had grown distant as they leaned against the cold iron-wrought gates of the graveyard for support.

Dahlia felt as though she could barely steady herself on legs that felt as though Minerva herself had hit her with a well-aimed Jelly Legs Curse as she turned to face the Headmistress of Hogwarts. Her mind began churning with fear and questions.

What on earth could the Headmistress of Hogwarts wish to speak to her about?

Dahlia could not escape the uncertainty in Minerva's piercing catlike green eyes as the older witch turned to study the spot on the other side of the graveyard, a willow tree, under which the witches thought they saw him standing moodily.

"Is something troubling you, Minerva?" Dahlia asked nervously, biting on her lip.

"No, not presently," Minerva answered after a moment as the older witch gathered her thoughts as she allowed herself a moment to study the much younger witch, thinking that it was easy for her to see why Severus was becoming so captivated with his Healer.

There was an intelligence and thirst for knowledge in Dahlia's eyes, not unlike a look that Lily used to get when she was a student. There was something strong and determined of the young woman's voice, a fiery fierceness within, which made Minerva listen.

"I was called upon this morning via a Patronus, shortly before coming here in the hopes to see you, to deliver a message to you by your supervisor at St. Mungo's, a Mr. Smithwick? He has asked me to release you from your position at the institute, effective immediately, dear."

Dahlia gaped, feeling her limbs go numb as her mind struggled to comprehend the older woman's words. She searched Minerva's tired and lined face for any sign of explanation.

The silence between the two witches stretched well past the point of comfort. The thoughts that now swirled around in Dahlia's mind made her dizzy. It was the ones that formed to some small measure of coherence that both indicted and condemned her actions as his Healer, thus far.

She frowned as she thought of Rita Skeeter's unexpected visit, wondering if the witch had put a bug into her supervisor's ear, sensing somehow, that she was beginning to care for her patient. It was only natural that Smithwick would be concerned about her state of mind and ability to make sound judgments.

Perhaps that was the reason why Smithwick no longer wanted her services in his ward as his best Healer. There was no place in the Dai Llewyn Ward for a witch who might be beginning to harbor feelings for her own patient.

Dahlia turned to stare past Minerva's shoulders at the edge of the woods that lay close by the graveyard that surrounded the vast plot of land and fought for control of herself.

"I've brought shame to him, somehow," she whispered, her voice sounding oddly emotionless and flat, as though devoid of hope.

Minerva shook her head sharply, the corners of the Headmistress's thin mouth pinching downward into a frown. She had not intended for her news to be delivered so harshly or taken by the younger woman so heavily, as Dahlia had.

She realized with a heavy heart that she had presented her case to her entirely wrong.

"No, Miss Hawthorne. Rest assured, dear, Mr. Smithwick was quite adamant in reassuring me that you have done nothing but bring honor and integrity to the Dai Llewyn Ward. No one could have served St. Mungo's with greater dedication than you, dear," Minerva declared.

Dahlia's only adequate response was a confused and furrowed brow as she stared.

The women stood in silence for a long moment, while Dahlia struggled bravely in order to prevent her bewilderment and hurt from overwhelming her any more than she already was on an emotionally charged day that strangers had buried her father's body here in Little Hangleton, the same graveyard, she realized with wide eyes and a horrified stare, that the Dark Lord regained his body back.

Minerva searched for the right words that would bring comfort to Severus's Healer.

"Please, dear, believe him. What Mr. Smithwick has asked of you has nothing to do with any actions or negligence on your part," she tried to explain, hoping to make Dahlia understand.

The furrow of confusion between her brows only deepened as she tried to comprehend. Dahlia looked at Minerva questioningly.

"I-I don't understand, Minerva, so please, help me." Dahlia shook her head, utterly perplexed by the possibilities of the Headmistress's meaning. Her confusion only worsened as Minerva steadily lifted her gaze, jutting out her chin and regarding the younger witch rather proudly.

"Mr. Smithwick has ordered your immediate release from St. Mungo's, effective immediately, so that, if you are amenable, I was hoping that I might be able to persuade you to become a member of my staff, Miss Hawthorne, dear."

Dahlia blinked owlishly at the Headmistress of Hogwarts, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing was a fact. Reflexively, her grasp tightened over the handle of her wand.

"Wh-what?" she asked haltingly. "Wh-what do you mean? How could I possibly become a staff member for Hogwarts, Minerva? I-I've no formal education, I could not possibly take the place of one of your teachers, I couldn't," she whispered in a choking voice, shamefaced, as she ducked her head. "It would not be right of me. And Severus, Minerva, I swore an oath when he fell under my care that I would heal him," she protested, biting down on her bottom lip.

Minerva regarded Dahlia with a look akin to sympathy in her eyes, a twinkling sheen forming in her green eyes as she smiled softly.

"Do not worry, my dear," she tried to reassure the young redhead. "You are not to be separated. He will remain with you and under your continued care, should you choose to accept my offer. And to alleviate your concerns, Miss Hawthorne, you would not be taking the place of one of the professors on staff, my dear, but of our Head Matron for our Hospital Wing. Poppy has chosen to retire come the start of the upcoming term and I need to find and hire her replacement. Naturally, considering your skills, how you were able to save my Potions Master's life, I thought you were the first and only candidate for the job if you should want it."

Dahlia's expression softened. "Hogwarts?" she asked the older witch, almost rhetorically.

Her mind was already picturing all that would come. She would be leaving behind her desolate flat in downtown London and, with any luck, would never have to set foot near her childhood home in Spinner's End ever again. However, that would also mean living and working in the very same place that her father had received his formal education as a boy. The very place which he had met her mother, and the one place, that she had been denied going.

Minerva sensed Dahlia's sudden apprehension and was quick to recognize the feelings of reluctance that were burgeoning in her eyes.

"Yes, dear," Minerva answered the younger witch patiently. "Hogwarts is not what it used to be," she pled her case, hoping she'd accept. "The castle is very nearly finished with repairs. It almost looks brand new, thanks to the combined efforts of our staff and a few employees of the Ministry from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes." She eyed Dahlia Hawthorne curiously, hoping the intelligent young woman would comprehend the meaning behind her words. "The ghosts of the past are gone." She told Dahlia, her own eyes glistening with sad memories of her own.

Minerva blew out a deep breath before carrying on.

"I could think of no better replacement to take up the mantle of Head Matron of our school's Hospital Wing, dear, than you, Miss Hawthorne. I desperately wish for someone that I would trust to keep our students safe. You were able to save Severus's life, Dahlia, which is no small feat in it itself." Her eyes pleaded with the hope that Dahlia would consider what she was offering. "The staff, and the students that were there who stayed to fight, everyone has been through so much these last few days alone. I want there to be no worries for my students or their parents when term resumes in September, at least where their care is concerned, should they, well, hurt themselves. There is no one else I would want to care for Hogwarts' student and staff when misfortune should befall them, my dear child."

Minerva paused as she thought of all that Dahlia had lost.

"We've all made sacrifices to see that Hogwarts is reborn from her ashes." She lowered her eyes sadly. "I know that your childhood home bodes…ah, ill memories for you, and I know that it cannot be easy while caring for Severus, to be so close to your home." Minerva's speech remained guarded, but her eyes strayed to some distant point behind Dahlia's shoulder, to where Severus Snape still remained underneath the willow tree.

Dahlia understood she referred to their shared neighborhood, where she'd spent her entire life sequestered behind her home's walls. She was pulled back to look once more at Minerva as she continued.

"Hogwarts could be a fresh start, dear, for the both of you, considering…ah…recent events," Minerva attempted, hopefully. "And I've heard various rumors that you made a brief acquaintance with Wes Walker," she chuckled, taking in the sight of Dahlia Hawthorne's widened brown eyes as the younger witch nodded, confirming her suspicions. "The Forbidden Forest, is, as you know, on Hogwarts grounds. You could visit him, as he seems quite fond of you. I am sure he would like to spend time with you as the man has few friends in his life. Remus Lupin has made mention that you are something of a friend in his life. He has graciously agreed to resume the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts come the fall term starting. I'm sure he would be delighted to work alongside a woman he considers a friend. His wife, Nymphadora, is a lovely witch, a Metamorphmagus, whom I'm sure you'd get on well with. She has also agreed to take on the role of an official guard for the school, as she's expressed a desire not to be away from her husband when the term starts. The opportunities for you to resume connections with old acquaintances and forge new connections and friendships could prove to your benefit."

Minerva made her case and then fell silent, eagerly awaiting Dahlia's answer. Dahlia felt as though her head were swimming with all that Headmistress McGonagall had described. Head Matron for the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts was the kind of privilege Dahlia had always dreamed of, growing up.

Though her work in the Dai Llewyn Ward kept her busy throughout her days and nights while on shift, she was granted few opportunities to form connections in the form of friendships. She remembered she still owed Wes a vial of the Wolfsbane she'd slipped into her cloak pocket. She'd sent him an owl last night shortly before going to bed that he was to meet her here at eight-thirty.

Instinctively, her hand went to her pocket and her fingers groped for the vial. He would need more of it if his transformations were to be even tolerable, but if she were to take up this position then both Wes and Remus Lupin would remain in close proximity enough she could see to both werewolves' needs each month with no issues.

And she would be remaining close to Severus and could continue monitoring his progress. Minerva had not been lying when she had alluded to the fact that Dahlia may wish to visit Wes. Though she had known the blond werewolf all but fifteen minutes yesterday, the kind-hearted and shy wolf with the strange stone was already leaving an impression on her. But more important than her potential new friendship with Wes Walker, a part of her wanted more time to linger around Severus.

It surprised her that she seemed to be talking herself into accepting the position. One of Minerva McGonagall's points of persuasion hit Dahlia stronger than any of her others, however.

For her, Spinner's End was filled with remembrances of her time in her home with Father.

Standing in front of the townhouse as she and Severus had done this morning, had almost tricked her mind into seeing Father suddenly appear in one of the windows, as he used to do when she would come in from playing outside, never allowed past the house.

Perhaps it would be best if she were to accept the job and start a new life in Hogwarts during the time of the year when school was in session. At least there, it would be more difficult for Rita Skeeter to attempt to contact her and Snape. Before Dahlia could change her mind, almost as if in a dream, Dahlia heard her voice answering Hogwarts' Headmistress, happily.

"It would be my honor to take over for your current Head Matron, Headmistress," she said shyly, lifting her gaze to Minerva's and regarding the older witch with a clear and determined confidence, her eyes sparkling.

Minerva McGonagall peered at Dahlia over the rims of her spectacles and smiled happily by way of response.

"Wonderful, dear. Poppy will be delighted in knowing that she can retire in relative peace and comfort, knowing the students and staff will be looked after. I believe that you will meet the challenges of your new position with honor and integrity and will bring a much-needed semblance of a soothing calm to our school, not to mention, the Board of Governors when I tell them you're our newest hire. You have got that effect on people, you know, Miss Hawthorne, whether or not you were aware of your gift, it is not a talent that should be wasted," she highly praised the redhead.

Dahlia lowered her head with the utmost reverence. "Thank you, Headmistress," she accepted. "When would you, ah, like Severus and I, to return to the school?" she asked, unable and unwilling to attempt to disguise the note of hope that could be heard in her voice.

Minerva inhaled a sharp breath of cold air before continuing, lacing her fingers together.

"We typically ask all of our professors and support staff to return to the school two weeks before the term commences on September 1st, to settle their affairs and finalize the preparations for their lesson planning for the school year. In your case," she chuckled, studying Dahlia intently, "providing Calming Draughts to a few of my staff who tend to get ah, overworked, and flustered, dear."

Dahlia's face brightened and her shy smile glowed, as she realized the honor and immense opportunity which had been bestowed on her. She felt as though her agreement should have given her a sense of foreboding and apprehension, or at least, even perhaps, a greater sadness at the thought of leaving Spinner's End. As many horrid memories, as she had suffered through in her home, it was still her home, after all. The only place she'd known growing up.

Dahlia could not explain why, but once her decision had been made and her declaration voiced, all that remained in her heart following her decision was a warm, growing excitement at the many possibilities to come. She had not felt hopeful in so very long that it was good to look forward to something, to have another challenge set before her once again, as she could already tell that Severus Snape was mending faster than she had initially anticipated, and likely would not be needing the entire duration of her services for the full calendar year, so this, at least, would be something she could use to fill her time.

Perhaps, Dahlia thought to herself, as she nodded a shy farewell to the Hogwarts Headmistress as Minerva apologetically mentioned that she could not stay long and had to be getting back, perhaps my destiny's waiting for me at Hogwarts, she thought.

She smiled wistfully to herself as her eyes followed Minerva McGonagall as the older witch shuffled a safe distance away and Disapparated, leaving Dahlia alone in the graveyard to mull over what had just happened. The moment she was left alone to her own thoughts at the edge of the graveyard of Little Hangleton, the cold spread from the ground, infecting every fiber of her body.

She swallowed down hard and made to move in the direction towards where her patient had gone, her mind still not entirely sure what her future would hold for her within the walls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but she could not deny that she was excited.

For a moment, she wondered how Severus would react to learning that she would continue to not only serve as his Healer going forward but come September in a few more months, they would be colleagues, coworkers, as well. The image of the man's likely expression, one of disbelief and shock, almost brought a smile to her lips as the corners of her mouth tugged up.

Dahlia chewed on her bottom lip a moment before meandering her way slowly through the graveyard, unable to ignore the foreboding feeling yet again as though she were being watched, and not by Severus Snape, either. As she glided along with the tombstones, some old and decrepit with the names barely legible, lichen growing along with their grave markers, others new, her fingers smoothed over the hard stone, the cold seeping into the tips of her fingers.

She paused once again when she reached her father's, letting out a slow, shaky breath. The moment alone with her thoughts, despite where she was, was soothing, calming, relaxing. Her eyelids fluttered closed a moment. She felt close to her father at that moment, despite not wanting to.

She rummaged into the pocket of her cloak and pulled out Wes's strange stone that she still felt guilty about accidentally holding onto it. Her fingers touched the gold flecks on the semi-smooth surface of the black stone pendant, her eyes unable to part from it.

She gingerly set the stone in hand and turned it once, twice, three times, her chest beginning to constrict. And like a dream, she swore she heard a ghostly call leaving her timorous. Merlin, she missed her father, despite what a monster the man was.

His sad glassy stare, his betraying motivations.

"Dahlia….Dahlia…"

It seemed like her father's voice chorused to her in whispers and screams, and she could not decode where it was coming from. A raven squawked in the distance and she caught her breath with a halt.

She looked around wildly to her left and right, catching sight of that familiar voice that called her name, the same husky voice that caused her pores to chill and soothe her at the same time. She began to hear her own desperate breathing speeding up, despite her best efforts to try to stay calm.

With another turn of her heels, when she turned back around to face her father's grave, having looked behind her to see if she could spot who it was had need of her, she came face-to-face with someone she thought she would never see again and screamed.

Eye to eye, Dahlia Hawthorne, and the apparition of her father stared at one another.

Hers, with bitter hatred with just a smidge of love left for her father, despite her best efforts over the years to stamp it out of her heart. His, bothered by the sight of his daughter.

She swore, by Merlin and God and whoever was in the afterlife looking out for her, that her mind was playing a sport of her vision. It just had to be.

"Father?" she whispered, her voice small and meek, raspy-sounding. She very nearly screamed a second time when the apparition offered her a curt nod but did not speak. Dahlia clamped a hand over her mouth, furiously blinking back her tears. She was surely trapped in her own illusion.

Dahlia nearly dropped the strange stone in her hand, wondering if this stone that belonged to Wes was indeed cursed, filled to the brim with Dark magic, as she suspected.

Nothing good came out of removing something from the Forbidden Forest. Why she had to let Father ghost her, he didn't know. But, as she looked upon the sight of the man who had raised her jeering at her, reading the expression on his stricken daughter's face, now Dahlia thought she was beginning to understand. She knew there were things left unsaid, emotions left pent-up between them.

And all of those reappeared at this moment, wanting to be freed when this might be the only chance she got. To her, Hans Hawthorne was everywhere, haunting her. Every night, she felt the ice on her cheeks in the form of his fingers, whispering to his little girl in icy tones.

"Did you love me, Dahl?" he would ask her.

Unlike the other nights when she was too stunned to be unable to have an argument to give, this time, Dahlia for sure had the answer.

"Did you…?" He would always ask her, and every night, her answer was always the same.

And right now, was no different. Her reply was out of her mouth before the thought itself had even fully formed in her mind as she spoke.

"You know I did, Father." She pursed her lips to swallow down hard, nearly choking on her words as she whispered to the apparition of her father in madness, thinking that this was a trick.

She opened her mouth to speak further, though a startled cry of surprise left her lips as a man's voice, not one she recognized, came from somewhere behind her, towards her right, deep, rough, grating, and coarse.

"What are you doing out here, little dove?"

Dahlia tried to contain her growing panic as she slowly turned around. Before she could so much as taking one step forward in the direction where she knew Severus had gone, however, she collided against something hard and warm as a blur of black flooded the edges of her vision.

A yelp left her throat as she looked up at the source of the disturbance.

When her eyes first landed on known Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov, she at first could not manage to process the information and how and why he was here. Her mouth went dry, and her chest caved in terror. Dolohov's body looked taller and stronger in his black robes than it ever did the few times she had seen the handsome wizard pay a house-call visit to her father a couple of times.

Reading the incident reports of his victims when those he attacked would come to her for treatment, she had never been able to fully appreciate the sheer terror the wizard's victims must have felt before they died. Now, Dahlia thought she could. When he took a step forward, she stumbled backward and nearly tripped over a gnarled tree root. He approached her slowly and calmly, his wand in hand. The man's actions were always controlled, he never rushed. She remembered reading that about the Death Eater in more than a few incident reports that had come her way.

Antonin Dolohov could snap her in half like a twig-like he wanted, but something told the Healer the man would much rather use his own wand for it.

Dahlia felt tears touch her eyes as he came closer to her, and she waited for the inevitable attack she was sure would come. She knew her chances of escaping were slim to none.

Dolohov would likely catch her before she'd get two feet.

Dahlia hesitated and curled her hands around the handle of her wand tightly until it hurt.

"Visiting…my father," she blurted out, hoping that her father's old comrade would take pity on her and not attempt anything stupid like attack her.

She swallowed, hard, when out of the corner of her gaze, she noticed the spot where her father's apparition had floated but a moment ago, was now normal and nothing was there in front of her.

She began to wonder if she had imagined it.

"What…are you doing here…alone, Dolohov?" she added, closing her eyes for a moment in frustration with herself. Her shock after laying eyes on her father's ghost was still fresh in her mind and impeded her ability to think straight now.

She had no idea how she could bloody well talk herself out of this one, but she wasn't ready to lay down and accept surrender at the wand tip of Antonin, either. Dahlia gripped the handle of her wand fast in her hand, ready to attempt to defend herself as she tried to think of something to say to keep the former Death Eater of Voldemort's listening rather than attacking.

"I…ah…didn't know you would be here, Dolohov," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly as she talked. Her attempt at stalling for time only resulted in the tall, handsome wizard bursting out into a fit of laughter. Maybe Severus would have heard that at least, or sensed his thoughts, and could come to help her, though she felt the two of them were far away from Snape at this point.

The man was likely no longer in earshot. Her chance at having Severus hear the ruckus and come to her aid based on what might have been missed. And she refused to call out and get Severus involved in this mess, not when he was still wounded. Not with a clear conscience.

If she could spare her patient, even at her own expense, then she would do it. Antonin's right arm rose over hers and Dahlia instinctively put her hands up in hopes of shielding her face.

She supposed some would think it ironic that she was about to be murdered in cold blood by Antonin Dolohov, a man whom her father was always on good terms with, and had once asked for her hand in marriage, though her father had repeatedly denied him, claiming that no other wizard was good for his 'little girl.' To her, it still felt like some horrible betrayal.

She was no doubt to feel ridiculous to feel betrayed by the likes of Antonin Dolohov, the man who owed her nothing. But she had tried too hard to reach him the few times she had been forced to interact with him, to make him change, and now…he'd kill her, just like anyone else.

"Antonin!" she screamed when he suddenly jerked his hand down and the witch froze.

Dahlia screwed her eyes shut and waited for the feeling of either the man's knife ripping into her chest or the flash of green light that would inevitably end her life.

But it didn't come. When she recovered some courage, she opened her eyes and looked up at her father's former acquaintance. His expression was blank, except for his dark eyes.

They had the look Dahlia used to attribute to Dolohov trying to make up his mind on something.

"Dolohov?" she asked more softly, and to her utter amazement, the wizard dropped his wand-yielding hand to his side. Dahlia's breath hitched in her throat as she looked up at him cautiously. She had no idea how to go about this.

She flinched when the man slowly brought up his left hand and hovered his fingertips over her cheekbone. She could feel Dolohov's fingertips on her face even though the wizard didn't lay a finger on her. It was like an electrical charge that caused goosebumps to erupt all over her skin.

As Dahlia curiously watched Antonin, she felt a swell of happiness flood her veins.

The man wasn't going to kill her, then! Maybe, just maybe, she'd managed to reach him after all, and he'd formed some type of attachment to her during the few times she'd seen him admitted into her ward for various injuries, always asking for her. At that moment, Dahlia felt as though everything she had done in her life, granted it was only thirty-four years, was worth it.

She had done the utterly impossible. But if only she could know just what sort of attachment Antonin Dolohov had managed to make… Her surge of triumph quickly faded, however, as she watched the wizard raise his wand again and aim at her.

"Who did you come here with, Hawthorne? You surely weren't stupid enough to attend Hans' wake alone, sweetheart, I'd been hoping you would come, Luv," Dolohov barked in a hoarse voice as he barreled forward with surprising speed, his calloused hand-winding around Dahlia's arm and yanking her forward rather roughly, enough to cause her to cry out. "Someone's been keeping you getting yourself killed since your father's death, darling. Unfortunately for you, dove, whoever you were out here with, has left you all alone. Too bad for you, but I'm rather delighted to see you again. Hans left a debt to be repaid in his death, Dahlia," he growled through gritted teeth. "One you'll have to pay, witch."

Dahlia swallowed as she felt the Death Eater's hands completely circle her arm as Dolohov turned on his heels and proceeded to drag her into the woods that bordered the edge of the graveyard's property's perimeter. As panicked as Dahlia could feel herself becoming, she was too scared and utterly exhausted to even struggle and allowed herself to be led away.

"Just wait, sweetheart, and see what I and my boys will do to little old you, Dahlia, love, you'll tell me who brought you here, who you're with, and maybe, I might let you go free. If the Aurors know you're here," the Death Eater threatened as he dragged the panicked and stricken Healer further and further into the woods and away from the graveyard, and away from the sight and earshot of Severus Snape. She had no idea if Dolohov knew that Snape was here with her, but a part of her hoped that he did. A good scare would do the arrogant prick some good if he knew Snape would be after him.

But if he was aware of it, he made no mention of her patient as he continued.

"You're quiet now, Hawthorne, but that's not going to last when I break every one of your fragile little bones in your body if you don't give me what Hans owes me. I'll break your tiny body in more ways than you can imagine, witch. We'll see just how quiet you are then. I'll get you to talk, darling, don't worry, and it's going to be up to you just how much you want to suffer first, Hawthorne..."