"So he just-" Lena stopped to belch out a loud hiccup before continuing. "- just gave you the job? Just like that?" She stared across the table at The Three Broomsticks in rapt anticipation, thoroughly drunk and forcing Severus to relive his conversation with the new Headmaster for the third time that evening.

"Not just like that, Astrid, but more or less."

Lena wrinkled her nose and shook a shaky finger in his face. "You know I hate my first time. Lena. Leeeee-naaaaaarrrrhhhhh. Call me by my middle name." She finished chastising him and went back to the shot of Ogden's old Firewhiskey, which was sitting in front of her. Snape sipped his butterbeer and watched with a mixture of embarrassment and amazement as she took the shot, raised the glass above her head, and let out what was supposed to be a whoop and what turned out more like a slurred growl.

"More whiskey! And a butterbeer for the new professor!"

"Lena, please stop drawing attention to us."

"Howcome you're being such a shitstain? Huh? You just got a brand new job. You get to disappear right out from under Miranda's nose. You threw Gibraltar to the merpeople for fuck's sake, Snape. Live a little. Quit making me do it all for you!" Madam Rosmerta appeared beside them with another shot of whiskey and a fresh bottle of butterbeer. She attempted to set it in front of Snape but he refused it, indicating that he still had half a bottle left. Rosmerta attempted then to take it back but Lena stretched out a shaky hand and took it instead.

When Snape and Rosmerta both gave her an appraising, one-eyebrow-raised look, she screwed up her face and asked them, "What? I finished my chaser. Need a new one." Rosmerta just shook her head and walked back to the bar muttering something about never seeing a woman with a gut for alcohol like that, but Snape set down his butterbeer and reached across the table taking her hand.

"Finish this shot and then we're going to go."

"What? Why? It's not even - arghhh, hold on -" Lena pulled up the sleeve of her black robe and checked her muggle watch. "It's not even eleven o'clock yet, Snape. What're you going to do, turn into a pumpkin?" She let out a great bellow of laughter at her own cleverness, drawing even more attention to them as she did. Snape threw a few apologetic looks around the barroom before turning back to her.

"Perhaps I will. Now hurry and finish your shot."

"Fine." She took the shot, made a face as if she were about to be sick, and then gulped half the butterbeer that had been placed before her.

Severus, for all intents and purposes, had to carry his friend back up to the castle. One of her arms was thrown over his shoulders and she appeared to be walking on her own, but she was dead weight in her drunken stupor and Snape was glad he had chosen a woman who could pass for anorexic as a drinking buddy this evening. Of course, the entire walk to the castle was punctuated by a slurred and very off key rendition of "Mull of Kintyre".

Once they were back at the castle he left her on the front steps in the company of Minerva McGonagall while he went and collected his room assignment and password from the Headmaster.

"You drank far too much tonight, Miss Erikson." The old witch fiddled with her robes while she attempted to look as though she was highly disenchanted with having to babysit her former student. But a thin smile was playing with the edges of her mouth, and though she would never have admitted it to anyone, Lena reminded her a bit of herself at that age.

"Horseshit." Lena immediately put her hand to her mouth and gave her former Head of House an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so-"

"Never mind. Tell me, Miss Erikson, what have you been up to since you graduated here?"

Lena became suddenly very animated. She related to Minerva how she had gone to Pepperdine to study Psychology and how she had graduated with a four-year degree in three years. Then she went into a full-blown account of her current graduate studies and how she planned to go to British Columbia to get her PhD. Minerva was quite interested in hearing about muggle Psychology, as there was really no wizarding parallel, and she listened with well masked enthusiasm as her old student told her all about life after Hogwarts.

"And are you seeing anyone?" The old witch tried to slip the question in without sounding as if she cared, but she failed miserably.

The question, however, did not have the desired response. Instead of becoming more animated and launching into a tirade on the love of her life whom she never would have met had it not been for Hogwarts she became suddenly withdrawn and seemed to sober up quite a bit.

"No."

There was an uncomfortable silence between them, and though Minerva had never had any formal Psychological training she could tell that Lena had something bottled deep within herself that she desperately needed to get out.

"Have you seen anyone since Hogwarts?"

"Yeah. Yeah I saw a guy for almost two years after I started Pepperdine but we - it didn't work out."

"Why?"

Lena seemed to consider the question for a moment before standing, swaying only slightly, "I don't really want to talk about him right now. Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow morning?"

"Certainly, dear. Certainly."

"Are we invited as well?"

Both women jumped at the unexpected voice behind them and turned to see Albus and Snape standing side by side, looking every bit like father and sullen son. Lena opened her mouth to answer the question but instead ended up leaning over the stone railing of the steps and heaving the contents of her alcohol-drenched belly onto the lawn.

"Perhaps we'd better plan to meet for lunch instead," Albus said as he sat down beside Minerva and looked up at the stars above them. The old woman grinned and chuckled inwardly, watching with a knowing smile as Snape straightened his old friend up and walked her into the great oak entrance doors and down toward the dungeon, one strong arm laced around her waist and the other holding her arm around his shoulders. She sighed at the thought of the responsibility he had taken on. 'And so young,' she mused.

"You're thinking about something," Albus observed, still watching the heavens.

"Are you sure he's the right person for this, Albus? He's so young. His whole life lays ahead of him." She seemed almost to plead with the old wizard.

"He is the very best person, Minerva. Voldemort would never suspect someone like him of having ties to me. We never even spoke during his time here at Hogwarts. He's given no indication that his loyalties lie with me. He's angry and unhappy already, and that will serve us best. We couldn't very well send a well-adjusted individual to join the Death Eaters could we? They would never survive."

"I hope you're right, Albus. I hope you're right."

"As do I."