If you could see your ancestors

All standing in a row,

Would you be proud of them or not,

Or don't you really know?

But here's another question, which

Requires a different view-

If you could meet your ancestors

Would they be proud of you? ~ The Book of Strattons

Chapter Four

Quidditch trials were the same year in and year out, Severus moaned inwardly. Whilst he had participated in Quidditch when he was younger and enjoyed the matches, he could not understand the fervour which possessed others. One would believe the importance of victory was comparable to life itself, watching the students play.

Although he would prefer missing the trials, Meredith had asked the Heads- of-House to help out this year as there was an unprecedented huge number of students trying out.

At present, the students were looking on fearfully as the Potions Master helped Madam Hooch pick the new players for the Slytherin team. Minerva was hovering on her broomstick beside them.

'Well, Severus, will it be six years in a row then? Losing the Quidditch Cup cannot be easy for you and your House,' she said cheerfully.

'Minerva, Minerva, Minerva. It is unlike you to gloat. Where is that irksome Gryffindor nobility?' Severus drawled as he pointed to one boy, indicating for him to try being the Keeper.

'Oh, pray pardon the loss of composure. Riding on a broomstick makes one forget.'

'Naturally,' came Meredith's sultry joiner.

'Alas,' muttered Severus as he ignored the two witches and watched the young Slytherin flying shakily across the field.

'Yes, I can see,' Meredith said. She helped Severus cross the student's name out on the list.

'Take heart Severus,' Minerva smiled. It was her turn to pick out new Gryffindor players, 'At least there are twenty more you have yet to audition.

Severus said demurely, 'Of course.'

Minerva turned sharply to face him. Severus' expression was one of unfair blandness. She shook her head and flew off to meet the Gryffindor team.

Severus smirked. Then, he pondered over the choices he had. There were strong players who would strengthen the team. Their weakness, however, lay in their Seeker. Malfoy had his chances every year. Each year, he let his worthless pride interfere with his playing when Slytherin was against Gryffindor.

He watched Malfoy walk away with the rest of the Slytherin team. He had played his cards well. By allowing the boy to think he was letting him do whatever he wished, Severus had managed to stay clear of Lucius' suspicions. Besides, there was no harm done in the process.

"Except for inflating an already overlarge ego," decided Severus. He turned his attention to the Hufflepuff team and spotted Praecellus Livis who was polishing his broomstick. Only a selected few knew his parentage. For Severus, he thought it fortunate. There were too many bright minds corrupted by the seductive darkness that Voldemort had to offer.

Where lay the point if not to prevent the Dark Lord?

'Professor Snape sir!'

Severus raised an eyebrow as he saw Hagrid run towards him. It was unlike Hagrid to run. The last time he did, one abnormally tiny first year bounced into the air literally.

'Professor Snape, the Headmaster would like ter see ya' rightaway.' Hagrid told him urgently.

Severus felt vaguely alarmed, 'Is it. . .'

'No sir. Not like that.'

Severus nodded his head. 'Tell the Slytherin team to return to their dormitories immediately after their practice. I don't want any unnecessary conflict between the other teams and them.'

'Yes sir.'

All sorts of speculations spanned around Severus' head as he walked quickly but steadily to the castle. What was so important that Albus had to call for him in the middle of the Quidditch activity? Hagrid had said it was nothing to do with Voldemort. It had been a while since his master had called for him, though he was not overly worried. They would know if another attack had occurred. Did something happen in the dungeons? Could it be that a student had broken into his storage-room containing the more dangerous substances? Perhaps Lupin had arrived unexpectedly to talk about the Wolfsbane potion. It would be disastrous for the Order if he informed them that he was developing a resistance towards the last supply sent a week ago.

'Lemony Lollipop,' he barked and stepped onto the spiral stairway. Somehow the Headmaster's password always managed to sound menacing when uttered by him. When he entered Albus' office, he saw that Lupin was not in there.

Albus looked up from a sheet of paper, 'Sit down Severus.'

Severus observed Albus from his chair. There was a gravity about him that could not have anything to do with tricks students were involved in. Maybe Lupin had written in after all.

Albus held out the paper, 'I received a letter "ah. . ." of a very delicate matter, concerning yourself "what?".' Albus continued gently, 'Although I myself find that the writer should have written directly to you, it seems eighteen years are insufficient to erase what contempt she has for you. I'm sorry Severus. I wish I could comfort you in some way. Only read this and you will understand.'

Severus took the letter and saw a family crest printed on the top of it. For a while the familiarity of it did not register in his head as he stared dumbfounded at it. He read the letter slowly, very slowly as each word written by a hand he had not seen for the-gods-knew-how-long loomed in front of him. Could it be true?

{The Hastings House

Dear Headmaster,

It has been a while since any of my family has corresponded with you. Pray forgive this negligence born not out of snobbishness but due to private grievances. You know that we only have the highest regard for you.

What our personal matters are I will proceed to write to you, although it gives me great difficulty to do so. This is the only indication I shall write of, of the pain we feel acutely and deeply.

Iunis Snape, the Head of Household and my grandfather, is already one hundred and sixty years old. His health has never been good, and has worsened over the past years, despite all our attempts to revive it.

It is our belief, including his, that he is not long for this world. Therefore, he has instructed me to ask your permission to allow Professor Severus Snape to have a last audience with him.

Yours sincerely,

Adaman Snape}

'Headmaster, I need to. . . Can I. . . I need to. . . If you may. . . I don't have cla. . . classes for the rest of the day. . .'

'Do what you like. You need not come for the staff meeting tonight.

'Thank you sir. I'm. . . Can I go?'

'Of course.'

Severus headed back to his rooms. The corridors were empty. Filch was not lurking in the corners to disturb him. The corridors were quiet. His mind was blank. Maybe he was dreaming. He was moving too slowly.

He closed the door behind him mechanically. He stared at his chamber. Everything was too quiet. He looked down at the letter that he was still clutching. He smoothed it out. He read it again. He placed it on the mantle above the fireplace. There was no fire. Maybe he should light one up. Iunis Snape always insisted fireplaces should be kept lighted in whatever season. He said it made a person feel welcome. He could teach Severus how to keep a fire burning all the time. He had promised once.

It was then that the impact of the letter hit Severus at last. His grandfather was dying.

***

Two weeks passed without incident. Severus went about his duties as though nothing significant had happened. He did not know what else to do.

Until Albus came knocking on his door that evening for another of his chats.

Albus tried to be patient. 'Severus you can't go on like this. Do you want to go back home?'

Home? Was there actually a home for him, outside the borders of Hogwarts?

'There are many things to be done Albus,' he said evasively.

'They do not have to be done immediately.'

'Albus. . . I can't do this. I. . . won't know what to do or say. I haven't seen them in what? Years on end.'

'Do you want to see them?'

'I don't know,' replied Severus. 'They haven't forgiven me yet.'

Honest and brutal. It must have had hurt Severus to say it.

'Haven't they asked for you?'

'They wrote to you sir, not to me. Isn't it clear that that they believe I have no right to return? They are doing it at a dying man's request.' More harshness.

'Isn't it important then to fulfil a dying man's wish to see his grandchild?'

Albus was aware that Severus flinched as if he had slapped him. Retracing what he had said, he berated himself.

'Mr. Snape has renounced his youngest grandson a long time ago, just as his family disowned one Severus Snape. What ties between the two had were removed and the former member of the family was quite unceremoniously chased out by the butler I can assure you of that.' No bitterness, only rejection.

Albus should have had known that wounds did not heal easily. Sometimes they did not heal at all. When Severus had confessed to his family of his involvement with Voldemort and the Death-Eaters, all of them had taken it at face value and hurled him out of the house. Despite the esteem they had for Albus Dumbledore, they could not accept his explaination that Severus had indeed repented. . .

. . .'Professor, don't help me.' Severus pleaded when he had gone back to Albus and informed him of his family's decision.

'I am going to help you. Do you know why?'

'Because you are Albus Dumbledore?' asked Severus listlessly.

'Because your family should support you.'

'Professor, don't. You know what the Snapes are like.'

'As I remember, they are righteous, honest men and women, each highly regarded in the wizarding world.'

'So true. They build roads and call for public safety. They build charity homes and read the Commandments of Merlin. They do not know what temptation is. Righteous, so righteous.'. . .

In hindsight, Albus knew why Severus rebelled against his background. If he were born a Dumbledore he might have had been different. Dumbldores would understand Severus' formidable intelligence. The Snapes, whilst outstanding in character and even magical skills, were never outstanding in intellect. Severus was the precocious child, someone his family could not relate to. He was overly curious and innovative, imagining all forms of new techniques to contribute to any field in magic. Affectionate as they were to him, the Snape family was not the ideal home for Severus to be brought up in. They belonged to a bygone era of rigid rules and discipline, of strict upbringing and distant customs of addressing each other. Severus did not interact with friends his age and not having played in his life, knew not what exuberance and laughter were. The child grew old too fast. He would have had been separated form his peers in Hogwarts for his intelligence. His character added to them labelling him a sulky git. While all Snapes belonged to Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, Severus chose Slytherin. Albus wondered why his family had not seen it coming. As he recalled, Severus' father had immediately owled him, insisting on behalf of the whole family that a terrible mistake had been made, that the Sorting Hat had finally lost what mind the founders were said to bestow upon it.

When Voldemort came, he came with everything Severus had imagined a leader should have: knowledge, cunning, confidence, resourcefulness and sheer brilliance. If Albus had known Voldemort had found ways to lure his students to him, he would have had prevented them.

Such introspection was unhelpful for Severus and he brought an end to it.

The only sign of life in Severus at the present was his index finger tapping nervously on the arm of his chair.

'I rephrase my question then. Isn't it important to fulfil a dying man's wish to see you?'

'When you put it that way, it makes a lot of sense,' said Severus flippantly. He sighed, 'I don't know Albus. What will happen?'

'Are you afraid?'

'Did you expect me to answer that?'

'Then let me hypothesise. If you are afraid, I will remind you that in all these years you have not failed in courage to overcome any fear and challenge. Godric Gryffindor would be proud of you.'

'That was a foolish thing to say. Spies are cowards. They hide their faces in the dark.'

'Don't change the subject. Will you go back?'

Severus said moodily, 'Yes but the lessons. . .'

'I will take care of them. Take as long as it is necessary.'

'I will be there as long as Mr. Snape deems fit.'

'Excellent.' Albus beamed. 'Wasn't it easy to decide upon, once you set your mind to it? Tea would be lovely thank you.'

Severus' head jerked a little before he remarked sardonically, 'Of course. I had not offerred. Once again my reputation as the hospitable host is confirmed.'

Albus watched in comfort as Severus prepared the tea at ease. Soon the aroma waved tantalisingly into the air. Flicking his wand, Severus took the kettle in one hand and poured the steaming liquid into a delicate china cup.

'Ah. . .' Albus said in satisfaction after drinking his first cup. 'It takes a Potions Master to really make a good cup of tea.'

Severus smiled. 'It's why I fend off the House-Elves with all my shouting to do it myself.'

'I'm glad your sense of humour has recovered. The staff meetings are so dull without your squabbles with Minerva.'

'I do not squabble. Minerva does. She's an old witch.'

'I shall relay to her your fine opinion of her.'

'Do so, and tell her I prefer being transfigured to a toad over rodents.'

Albus laughed, and engaged Severus in a chat which took up a good part of the night.

***

'Goodbye locker, goodbye classroom, goodbye lecture hall, goodbye tennis court, goodbye, canteen, goodbye tidbit machine, goodbye. . .' Lindsay paused. 'I'll think of something.'

Adela grinned to herself. It was the last day in university for their class and the girls were packing up their belongings in the music room.

'Oh beautiful flute,' Lindsay kissed it and placed it in her case, 'You have served me well.'

'You are lucky. You can keep it at home. What about me? I can't bring back the piano.'

'Woe be me!' cried out Lindsay. She smiled at Adela, 'Last night's performance was a blast, wasn't it? A great way to exit university.'

'A better Nurse I have yet seen, it being the only Romeo and Juliet show I have ever watched.' Adela received a light slap on the back of her head. 'Ouch. I still want my head intact when I go home thank you very much.'

'Ha ha. It will be prudent not to offend Your Highness then.'

'You are a Nurse.'

'Well now I am Queen Macbeth.'

'She went mad.'

'Alright, I'm the Queen in Alice in Wonderland. Off with her head!'

'Mercy!' Adela dodged Lindsay's baton.

'Off with your head!'

'I surrender!'

Lindsay slammed herself into Adela and both fell into a pile of empty boxes. She said happily, 'That will teach you.'

Adela regained her balance and shook her head, 'We are like children.'

Lindsay grinned, 'Joy and celebration. We have removed the shackles of adulthood.'

'Hear hear.'

Picking themselves up, Lindsay said, 'You told me you're taking the night ride home. I leave tomorrow. We'll be separated Adela, and we live so far. Won't you visit me at all?'

'Merrily, but aren't you travelling to Canada with Henry?'

'Right. Who knows when we will meet again? Who knows what will happen?'

'Nothing remains but for the traces which leave our whispers in the sand. For us, memories. For the earth, the tides come and go. The waves clash on the rocks. The birds ride the wind. The mountains hide their song and forests their secrets. They wait for us to explore. Then maybe we'll get lost. Maybe someone will mock and terrify. But it is a distant voice. There is no fear. We are watched by all around us. The Autumn Willow knows what the Storm does not, that the power to endure harm outlives the power to inflict it. . .'

Adela was off again, in her dream world. Sometimes Lindsay tried to imagine what she saw. They must be beautiful dreams. Her eyes glowed so.

'Nothing remains,' she said when Adela came out of her reverie.

'How grave you say it. There is always hope the past is not forgotten.' Sometimes it seemed that Adela was not aware of her subconscious state of mind.

Looking at her, Lindsay felt a pang. 'We may not meet for a long time. Will you play me a song?'

'You are very grave Lindsay. Parting is such sweet sorrow, no? Come,' Adela sat at the piano, 'Sit by me.'

When the two settled down, Adela tinkled with piano. She played the opening bars of an unknown song, and Lindsay nearly gaped at her when she sang. She had never heard her sing before.

'White in the moon the long road lies,

The moon stands blank above;

White in the moon the long road lies

Beckons me on to move.

Still hangs the edge without a gust,

Still, still the shadows stay:

My feet upon the moonlit dust

Pursue the ceaseless way.

The world is round, so travellers tell,

And straight though reach the track,

Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well,

The way will guide one back.

But ere the circle homeward hies

Far, far must it remove;

White in the moon the long road lies

Beckons me on to move.'

Adela continued playing and singing various songs, as the skies outside began to grow deep orange and burst forth with effort the last rays of the day, streaming into the room through the clear windows. She ostensibly made up the pieces as she went, all frenzy and inspiration. Her voice was like her, strange and light, winged as it were. She disturbed her listener with unexpected thrills, but she also brought forth serenity. Finally, she stopped. Her fingers rested on the keys.

'It is late,' Lindsay said softly.

Adela stirred herself. 'Yes,' she whispered. Bringing the cover over the keyboard and locking it in place, she stayed still for a moment.

'How swift the passing.'

'Do you need my help in packing?'

'No. I have already sent my luggage off yesterday.'

Adela lapsed into meditation again.

'You will miss your train.'

'So I shall, if I remain.' She stood up.

'Come then. You can see me off if you like.'

Lindsay took Adela's outstretched hand. 'Are you alright Adela?'

'I am.'

'Now it's you who are grave.'

'This evening seems to make me so.'

They walked out hand in hand. Adela smiled at Lindsay gently, 'You are a good friend Lindsay. I will miss you.'

'You will remember to keep in touch with me then?'

'I will. I want to attend your wedding, you know.'

'Really!'

They both laughed. Lindsay was comforted it could end this way.

***

Severus felt like a child all over again. He was small, inconspicuous, insignificant in the heart of his forefathers' grounds.

There was no turning back. He needed to get this done. He had to carry out his last duty and service to Iunis Snape. He looked around the lush gardens surrounding the home itself. Nothing had changed.

'Professor,' a woman a few years older than he glided down the stairs.

'Madam,' Severus bowed.

They studied each other cautiously. In Severus' eyes, his sister did not change much. The steely grey eyes which hid the charity she was renowned for. Her hair only had a tinge of silver at the fringe. Her countenance remained noble and elegant.

'I trust the House-Elves have shown you your rooms.'

'Yes, I am very satisfied with them.'

'They will be quite adequate during your stay.'

'The Snape family is always reputed for its hospitality,' Severus tried too hard to be polite. He must not show the hurt he felt when the House-Elves led him to the guest quarters instead of the rooms he occupied as a child.

Adaman nodded her head in acknowledgement. 'If you are ready I shall bring you to the Master's chambers.'

'Thank you, but I remember where. . . that is, of course. Thank you.'

Walking down the corridors and through various rooms, memories suppressed surfaced as he saw one familiar scene after another.

'You've redecorated the play-room,' Severus could not help saying.

'It's now used Mr. and Mrs. Tsenoh Snape's son.' Her voice was tight.

Severus swiftly distanced himself. 'Oh, I read the papers. Your nephew must be three by now.'

'Quite right. He's showing signs of his magical powers.'

'That is fast.'

'It is not when one compares to you. You were only. . . We have made changes to the training rooms we are about to pass. As you can see, Professor, further protections have been done to the walls.'

Some minutes passed as they walked, with Adaman proceeding to describe the house. Severus unashamedly took refuge in it. When they arrived at the door, a plain cloth was seen to drape over it. Adaman waved her right hand and whispered, 'We ask entrance.'

The drapery shimmered and a single light shone through.

'Cool breeze from the mountain,

Carries my old voice;

Water from the fountain,

Aids life and rejoice."

As she said each line, a gold light flashes to reveal part of the verse on the tapestry. Then, the cloth was lifted and the door opened.

'You may go in.'

The door closed behind him.

'Well, well, if it isn't the snarky, slimy, Severus Snape.'

For a surreal moment, Severus wondered where the voice came from. It seemed to fill the room.

'What? No retorts? No, fifty points from Gryffindor? Come to the side of my bed so that I may see whether the actual professor is here,' the strong voice barked again. It was impossible to believe that it belonged to a weak aged man.

Severus stepped forward. He composed himself before looking down to see the man he once called Grandpa.

Iunis Snape was almost a tragic shadow of himself. Whilst his voice had the quality of strength and will, his countenance betrayed a frailty more delicate than that of a newborn child. He was thin, painfully so. His cheeks had sunken to reveal the sharp cheekbones and he kept coughing sporadically. His hair, swept back from his face and forehead, had lost all colour. It was not even white. Severus felt his throat constrict.

'Mr. Snape.'

Iunis opened his eyes and gazed at him solemnly. They still retained the bright spark Severus remembered. Did he imagine it, or did a spasm cross Iunis' jaw and something akin to pain flash in his eyes?

'Professor.'

Severus sat on the oak chair place beside the head of the bed.

'Thank you for coming, although I must protest at the amount of time it took for you. I wondered if I could hold out. If I could manage, I would have Apparated to Hogwarts' and spanked you.'

Tears threatened to fall from Severus' eyes.

'I see the years have not been exceptionally kind to you as well. You look haggard, terrible if I may add. Isn't Hogwarts famous for the food the House-Elves provide? Or do you lock yourself up in those dungeons of yours? Professor Dumbledore says you keep insisting that they be cold and wet. You'll suffer rheumatism when you get old. And you'll have yourself solely to blame.'

Severus' voice failed him.

'Is this man speechless? Silenced? Come, I did not ask you to come stare at me like a drowning sod. Talk.'

Severus struggled to obey, 'Mr. Snape. I'm honoured to be in your presence.'

'That is appropriate. . . if you are talking to an acquaintance. What do you have to say to your old grandpa?'

'I. . . I regret to say that I have no kin in this world.'

'Why? Is it because everyone is dead or because you have renounced them?'

'I believe it's the other way round sir. I was the one abandoned.'

Iunis stared at him. His lips moved.

'Did you feel abandoned when we renounced you?'

Severus realised his mistake. 'No sir. I was renounced because I deserved it.'

Iunis said irritably, 'You have not answered my question.'

'What question is that sir?'

'Don't play the fool. Did you think yourself abandoned?'

'Mr. Snape. . .'

'Call me Grandpa!'

Severus caught himself gasping. 'What?'

Iunis was gasping after exerting himself. Severus asked urgently, 'Sir? Is there anything I. . .'

'Get me. . . water.'

Severus summoned a glass of water and proceeded to scoop Iunis up and lean him against the head of the bed. He held the glass while Iunis drank several mouthfuls.

'Thank you.' Iunis whispered. He looked at Severus. Slowly, one bony hand came up to touch Severus' cheek. A tear flowed down his own.

Severus was overwhelmed, 'Sir.'

'The years have been hard on you Severus.' Iunis said sadly. 'I'm sorry.'

'Have you. . .' Severus dared not ask it out loud. 'Have you. . .'

'Have I released you from your punishment? Yes, I think so,' Iunis cradled Severus' head. 'I am the master of this house, this name. It is my duty to look after everyone in the family. But you, my child, you I cast away. Forgive me.'

'Sir. . .'

'Hear me. I was angry Severus. I was shamed by my dearest grandson. I did not understand, could not understand what could possibly have turned him away from us. You must know I cannot imagine a Death-Eater to have a conscience, let alone a soul. You were to me, the embodiment of evil.'

'I was blinded once.'

'Yes. I wondered why you chose such a horrible end. It plagued me to reflect that I might have been responsible.'

'No, a person alone is responsible for the choices he makes.'

'But a family may guide him to another path. We were blind to your actions, your follies. But you chose to end that miserable way. You alone fought to return to the light. You asked our pardon. And we, we who did not help you at all, abandoned you.'

Severus gripped Iunis' hand, 'Don't reproach yourself. I told you I deserved every punishment that was directed at myself.'

'Enough. . .' Iunis sighed, 'You have suffered enough. Dumbledore has kept us up to date with your life. Don't be surprised, or resentful. We asked him to. And we learnt you have done more than we suspected to redeem yourself. We are proud of you. It will be an honour if you agree to return to us.'

Severus had not expected this. His mind reeled.

'Am I forgiven?'

'Forgiveness. . . It is a lesson we Snapes have not grasped properly. Dumbledore's right. We're a rigid bunch. Severus, I'm an old, tired man. I just want you to come home.'

Relief washed over Severus. It felt as though a burden he had been crushed under was removed. He found himself pulled gently to the old wizard into a hug. It was awkward. He had not been in such close contact with anyone for such a long time. Yet, this was his grandfather, with whom he had not communicated with for over twenty years.

'Severus, my boy.'

'Yes sir.'

'Call me Grandpa.'

'I. . . it sounds childish'

'Childish?' Iunis laughed bitterly, 'I don't know if you ever knew childhood.'

Severus smiled in spite of himself. Sitting up, he looked at Iunis and said, 'I'm glad Grandpa.'

Iunis returned his smile. 'The whole family will be glad.'

'Adaman does not seem to approve of me.'

'Don't you know your sister? Her countenance means nothing. She has not reconciled her principles with her feelings and hopes yet. Give the others time to accept that they want you back.'

'As you wish.'

'Of course as I wish. Now, there are several things I need to settle with you. For one, who do you think you are to handle Gryffindors so ruthlessly? Why, you did not think of respecting your grandpa. It's horrifying that you are the Head of Slytherin. We're practically enemies.'

Severus snorted. 'Trust you to defend Gryffindor.'

They talked for the better part of the day, until more and more of their family came to join them. Seeing each familiar face, Severus was vaguely apprehensive. However, they were all civil, and with Iunis' help, became the family they once were to him. Severus was at ease.

***

'Uncle Sam! Aunt!' Adela was welcomed with a bear hug by her uncle at the gate of the train station.

The merry man with a wrinkled brown face and twinkling blackcurrant eyes laughed heartily. He wore a corduroy jacket and a sugar-loaf hat that was set awry on his head. Beside him stood a beaming woman, who contrasted sharply in size with her husband, who was large and round. Like him, however, she had ginger hair.

'Oof! You've grown.' Uncle Samuel exclaimed.

'I have not!'

'It's what elders say to their children who've gone away for some period. Tradition, my little one.'

'Ah, I hope I have not changed.'

'Not a bit,' Aunt Martha gave her a milder hug. 'It is good to see you return. Come along, the horse-cart is waiting for us.'

'Is it Laurie?'

'Yes, Laurie and Maud. It'll need two to bring three and the luggage to the village.'

'It is a lot of luggage Adela,' Uncle Samuel remarked as he carted them to the cart. A man who was hurrying towards his car bumped into him. 'These urban people are cursed with impatience. They can never appreciate nature. Anyway, what do you have inside?'

'What I packed four years ago before leaving for university.'

'Hhmp. Seems to have grown like you.'

'Dear uncle, I'm so pleased to see you.'

The two-hours ride in the horse-cart was spent telling her guardians about life in university and assuring them that she had taken care of her health well.

'Still, I wager you miss your Aunt Martha's cooking. There'll be dinner right as you step into the house.'

'Marvellous. Will there be hot steaming corn soup, baked bread, potatoes topped with butter, chicken pies and custard puddings?'

'And all the other things you like.'

'You spoil me Auntie.'

'Aye, but you've never been spoilt. Your parents will be proud to see the fine girl you've become.'

'And you, uncle, aunt? Are you proud of me?'

'Bless you, sweet, you're a treasure. I'm so proud of you I go to the inn everyday telling them folks I've got a girl in university working her way best she can. Where's your certificate? I want to show it to them bores.'

'In my luggage uncle.'

'I tell you we should frame it and hang it in the living room where everyone can see.'

Adela laughed. It did not matter where her certificate was situated. She was delirious with delight. They were in the outskirts of the town by then. She saw the cornfields among which pimpernels and gillyflowers grew. She inhaled the scent of pine trees. The cart turned off the road from a steep hill and she smiled to see the approaching hills. Somewhere beyond them was a place she was born in.

At length, they reached the cliff road that wound and twisted up and down the hills. There was no sign, no indication before the horses slowed their pace into trot. The tiny village, neither changed by time nor modernisation, met them in full quaintness and coziness.

'Welcome home Adela.'

Author's Note:

'Adaman' is from the Latin word adamans: steeled, unyielding, adamant, stubborn, intransigent

'Iunis' is from 'iuris': justice, law

'The Autumn Willow knows what the Storm does not, that the power to endure harm outlives the power to inflict it' was a sentence found on a webpage contributed by someone who calls himself/herself Fallen Bird.

The song is taken from another fantastic series called The Dark is Rising. The last line of the first and fourth verses have been changed though. Go read the book!

'Tsenoh' is just the mirror image of honest. Stupid me.