DISCLAIMER: as per usual. Ahem. I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the book. Ms. Rowling does. I am merely borrowing them for the sole reason of writing this story. However, I own Astrid, Nova, Tarquin, Niall, etc.

AUTHOR: l88er-az a.k.a. Aida or "The Master"

RATING: bad luck, kiddies. Still PG-13.

SO FAR.: Nova wakes up to find herself in a strange place. She realizes she's hurt and sees light. She calls out for help. Two figures step in to help. Only they aren't as they seem. "The two siblings looked at each other for awhile. Then looked to Nova, then back again. The girl nodded slowly. Yes, they would tell her.
"I am Astrid Malfoy. This is my brother, Tarquin. We're Draco Malfoy's children."
For a second time that day, she felt the world tilt. And all was dark once more."

Nova was just musing over what had happened as she sipped the warm tea that the healer, Pat Keelin, had pressed into her hand upon being treated. Fancy that. Pat Keelin. Pat was in her class in school. Surprising, since Pat looked at least 20 years older. Apparently, she had traveled forward in time. She knew, better than most people that things were not what they seemed. So she wasn't duly surprised when it was uncovered that she had time traveled.

It was incredibly sad to find out that Dumbledore truly was dead. It wasn't a surprise, for she'd known, but it was a blow, nonetheless. Minerva McGonagall was the headmistress, now. It was a pleasure to see the woman again. It was surprising to see Snape, though. The man had changed utterly. Oh, he was still a git, but he wasn't a greasy git. That was, until she realized that the Snape she was looking at wasn't Severus, but his son, Roman. Of all that was holy, Snape with a son. And a good looking one, at that. For the umpteenth time, she found herself checking him out.

Tall, lean and dressed in black, like his father used to. He had thick, wavy dark hair that was long enough to be tied in a ponytail, amused amber eyes surrounded by inch long dark lashes. He didn't have a classically handsome face, like Tarquin. Instead, he had a rough and ready look that made her drool. He had a ruggedly handsome face with a charmingly broken nose and wide, sensual lips that was curved in a playful, knowing smirk. Oh.

Nova was jolted out of her appraisal by the fact that Snape jnr had noticed her openly staring and probably salivating. He was leaning casually against a tabletop, looking at her in amusement. He stood up and struck a pose. He turned to smile roguishly at her as she blushed a deed red.

"Well, what do I rate?" he asked teasingly. Nova knew it was pointless to lie her way out of it. And since he was such a good sport about it, she decided to play along. She leaned back into her pillows and carefully perused him again, frowning. Catching his eye, she shrugged.

"I don't see anything special."

Damn McGonagall for leaving her with him. Her imagination was going over active and she had to use all of her will power to appear calm and unaffected. At his look of affront, however, she grinned.

"Oh, all right. You're a 9."

"Fair enough," he shrugged before sauntering over to her bed. He sat at the foot of it and looked at her through those amused, knowing eyes of his. Nope, nothing like Tarquin. Then she frowned. Why was she comparing him to Tarquin? Tarquin was nothing. She scowled darkly. Tarquin was nothing but an annoying, stuck up, cold-

"I certainly hope that scowl isn't meant to be in my direction."

Ah yes. Roman Snape. She'd forgotten about him in her dark thoughts about the Malfoy heir. Wait, Tarquin was the Malfoy heir, right? She turned to Roman, but before she could say anything, she noticed Roman was looking over her shoulder and she followed his gaze.She paled, even as Roman smiled.

"Bill, I'm guessing you heard about our illustrious guest."

The man who had just stepped into the room smiled briefly at Roman before his eyes met hers. His expression immediately became shuttered and she broke, a little. She had been the cause of this. She didn't want to. She regretted what had happened between them, she only wished he understood.

"Hello, Bill," she said, quietly. She saw his jaw tighten at the sound of her voice, but other than that, he remained completely impassive. He inclined his head, just barely. Just short of rude. She almost flinched at that sign of polite hostility. She had done that. Her. She had made this man into that cold stone.

"McGonagall sent me. Said I was to talk to our.guest," his lips curled humorlessly at that. This time, she actually did flinch. Roman looked at her in concern. He briefly touched her shoulder.

"Alright there, love?"

"Peachy," she said, straining to sound casual. Uncaring. Normal. Hell, she'd settle for anything that didn't entail her voice to break embarrassingly. She watched him, warily. Bill, that is. Not Roman. Roman didn't look convinced, but left it at that. Bill, on the other hand, still looked bland. Nova swallowed. She wished he'd stop looking at her like that. She wished that he would talk to her. She wished a lot of things she wasn't necessarily going to get. This looked like one of them. She turned to smile at Bill. Whatever the outcome, she had to try, at least.

"How is your family? Are they.alright?"

"Why would you care about what happens to my family?" he asked disinterestedly. Nova looked at him as if he was nuts. To hell with it, he probably was. She wouldn't be surprised.

"Are you nuts? Your mother was the sweetest woman to me. I adored her, and your father. The twins are like brothers to me. Ginny i-was," she corrected herself upon seeing the eyebrow he raised. "One of my best friends. Of course I'd be interested."

"Well, one could never be too sure. I mean, you did just leave, you know. Abandoned that family you claim to care for, that best friend of yours. With nothing so much as a word. No explanation. Nothing. I'd say that it's perfectly understandable for me to be slightly wary."

"You don't understand," she said, hoarsely. She turned her face away. "None of you do. I'd guessed the outcomes would be like this, but I'd hoped. You know. I wished that I was just being pessimistic."

"Dammit!" his eyes flashed in anger. Finally, some emotion in those blank blue eyes of his. She remembered that they had been full of emotion, once. She remembered how those eyes had reflected every mood, every emotion. How they had sparkled with wit, intelligence. With anger, with sadness. And love. God, how they had sparkled with love. Then she happened. And that sparkle had gone. "How the hell are we supposed to know if you don't tell us? We cared for you, Nova Christiaan. All of us did. And all you did for all that care was to push us away. While you went to search yourself. Did you even stop to think that if you took a moment and look around, that you'd find out? That if you asked those who cared for you, you wouldn't be so bloody lost." his voice had cracked and he turned his face away, a nerve at his jaw twitching from the pressure he put on it. Her eyes filled with tears. Both didn't notice when Roman stopped staring at them in shock and started to move away. Memories were strong. The memory of love was strongest.

"Why'd you do it?" He sounded so tired, suddenly. She noticed that he looked older, much older than he should. Lines etched in that once youthful, lively face. His mane of bright red hair was turning silver at the temples, dark shadows under his eyes. His beautiful mouth twisted in a grimace.

"I had to leave," she said, quietly. "There was too much of me. Of us. All of us. So much that I cared for, and that scared me. I had Drake, Blay, Niall, Gins. I had Molly, Arthur, Fred, George. I had you." She slipped out of the bed and walked over to him. Turned his face towards her. She smiled sadly. "And that scared me most of all."

"W.what?"

"All true. I loved you so much," she shook her head. "So much that I couldn't go without thinking about you. Wanting you with me. Holding me, touching me. And that scared me, that attachment I had for you. It would have killed me if anything happened to you. So I let you go."

"So you let go." His voice had hardened. She took his face between her hands. Stared into those fathomless eyes of his. Tears were in her eyes, his face a lush blur, now. His hands unconsciously went around her waist. Like they had so many times before in the past. The past.

"I couldn't stand being with you. It hurt how much I cared. You were my first," her lips curved, as did his. Albeit a little sadly. "In all the ways. My first mutual crush, my first kiss, the first guy I've gone through the bases with. My friend, later my lover. That was so powerful, Bill. You don't know what you meant to me. But it wasn't supposed to be. I wasn't supposed to love you. I wasn't supposed to care. You weren't supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" he asked, huskily. She tilted her head to the side and leaned into him, feeling his body press familiarly to hers, felt his hot breath against her ear, teasing the stray curls there. Smelled that scent that was Bill.

"You weren't supposed to be there on the Equinox. I wasn't supposed to have met you. You were supposed to be in Egypt where you would meet the woman you were meant for. Instead," she smiled despondently. "You went back home. And you got me."

"I wanted you. Only you," he murmured. She closed her eyes. How was it that he could still wreck havoc on her senses? Only he had been able to make her body respond like this. To make her heart beat faster, simply by being in the same room. To make her toes curl just by listening to the husky timbre of his voice. To make her skin hum when his breath was warming her. wait, stop. Exert some control, woman. Reluctantly, she pulled away from his embrace and stepped back. She needed to clear her head. She needed to think. She wrapped her arms around her arms. She looked at the floor. The tears were threatening to spill.

"Nevertheless, it wasn't meant to be. You would have met Becky, fallen in love, swept her off her feet, get hurt in the process, make up, get married and have babies. You were going to be happy," her voice broke and the tears did fall. Bill's face softened.

"Nova. Nova, look at me." When she didn't, he walked over to her, cupped her chin in his hand and gently but firmly tilted the face up to meet his gaze. His heart broke, a little, at the sight of those huge, haunted hazel eyes of her flooded with tears. He pulled her to him roughly, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other rubbing soothing circles on her back. He was murmuring gentle words, calming words, any words, really, so that she would take comfort. So that he felt like he was doing something to help her.

"Oh, Baby. Don't cry. Shh. it's okay. Everything will be alright, I promise. Shh, sweetheart. Bella, Cherie, Strega, Dushka." He called her the nicknames, the little words of affection he had picked up. Names he had always called her by. His hands stilled for a moment, as realization hit. But they automatically went back to their ministrations. His mind was just whirling with this new development. He knew he was an idiot, but he also had to admit that it could only have happened two ways: he'd either hate her for all eternity and be miserable because he didn't, or fall in love with her all over again and be in agony because she would fight her feelings for him with everything she had in her. He smiled grimly over her head. She might resist, but he was patient. And persistent. If she wanted to resist, he'd just wear down her walls. Whatever the outcome, he would fight for her. This time, he was going to let her go so easily. Not now that he had a second chance. Not now that he knew why she had let go the first time. He grimaced imperceptibly. Damn if he didn't go and fall in love with her again.

End of third chapter. I'd appreciate some feedback!