**Author's Note: All my apologies… illness + a new job= a very poor updater, indeed. I enjoy—nay, encourage—feedback, especially if you feel my writing is falling short. I'm a glutton for punishment, kids and folks, so bring it on. Much joy this holiday season to all of you, and happy reading.**
Gods… she was crying.
Severus couldn't really bring himself to any other train of thought; the blasted woman had been crying like a ninny ever since Draco had stormed out of the office, and he hadn't the slightest idea of what to do with her.
Tears, especially tears from a woman, made Severus Snape uncomfortable. Had he been the least bit inclined to something so hackneyed as, say, a cheering charm, he could have performed one.
But there was no cheering charm in the depths of the former Death Eater, there was only a sick feeling of helplessness that always seemed to accompany feminine tears. What had he ever been able to do for his weeping mother, chained by emotional weakness to the man who abused her? And what had he ever been able to do for Dea, foolish enough to love a man who hadn't the slightest idea how to love her back?
"Come on," he said. "Show a spine. You're bloody well lucky he didn't hex you."
"I didn't know," she said, her voice muffled by her hands, which were covering her face. "I didn't know it was that bad."
Severus couldn't help the snide smile that started to twist his face; hadn't he tried to tell her as much, that she didn't know and didn't care enough to help the boy?
Sometimes the say "I told you so" was too strong to overcome and so he did just that.
"My, my, what a recidivist attitude."
The statement, uttered in that damned know-it-all, holier-than-thou tone of voice had Severus pivoting slowly, face carefully composed into a mask of calmness, movements perfectly timed to conceal eagerness.
Dea was back.
She had a smile for him, which was more than most did, and though he'd tried his hardest to curb her touchy ways, she put a hand to his thin cheek and smiled. Her mahogany hair was a bit longer, the grey streak a bit wider, but the chronic worry was gone from her eyes, and she looked at him as though she'd never left.
"Albus let me in," she said by way of explanation, stretching her arms in her long, orange robes and eyeing the figure huddled in the chair in front of Severus's desk. "Oh, Severus, have you made a student cry?"
And then Lilith raised her head.
Dea stumbled back, mouth dropped in a nearly-perfect 'O,' a hand extended back, groping for something, anything to support her.
Onesies, twosies, threesies, three, I see a birdie in a tree…
"Oh good heavens," she expelled in a breath. "We'd heard—" To relieve some of the shock, she tore her eyes away from the woman and back to Severus, who had gripped her shoulder to keep her from falling. "Albus told us about her, but…"
Seeing the other woman's obvious shock helped Lilith regain her composure, and she stood, pulling herself up straight, her tall body all but dwarfing Dea. "But you didn't know I'd look so much like him," she finished, trying to hide the misery in her voice. "Well, what can I say? Malfoy blood runs strong."
"Apparently not too strong," Dea said, extending her small hand to the woman, though a tiny part of her quivered at the gesture. "Since you don't act a bit like a Malfoy." Dea tilted her head, seeing that the woman was hesitant to shake her hand, and made the first move, grasping the long, thin fingers with short fingers of her own. "I'm Amadea Middlemarch."
"You're American," Lilth stated, wincing at her inanity. Obviously she was American.
"I'm a bit of a mutt, really," Dea said, releasing Lilith's hand and letting her attention wander back to Severus. "But I can't stay away from old friends too long." Underneath the stoicism, he was tense; it wasn't hard for her to tell, because there were many things about Severus Snape that hadn't changed a bit since his own years as a student. "I've a feeling I interrupted something."
"A story too long for your attention span to weather," Severus said dryly, trying to keep the small amount of malice at bay as he wondered where Dea's lycanthropic companion was likely to be. "I've bottles for Lupin. Don't forget to remind him," he said tersely.
Oh, how he'd wanted her to come back, and now that she was here, he was too ashamed to admit he'd needed her.
"You can remind him yourself, later," Dea said gently. It would be too much to ask, she knew, for the two men she loved to get along.
But she could damn well try to force them.
"I'll leave the two of you be," Dea said, and walked out of the office and straight into Remus's arms.
As the heavy dungeon door slammed shut, Severus stared at it as though he could still see the woman that had left and the man she had left with, and for a moment he forgot he was not the only person in his office.
Lilith watched the tall, dark man with an intense sort of fascination, feeling more than a bit like a voyeur as she saw the flicker of yearning come and go on his face, an emotion too human for her to immediately connect with him. He had, after all, been a Death Eater, hadn't he? A contemporary of her dear brother?
"I must go," she said suddenly, standing and jostling his arm in her hurry to get past him.
And as she walked out the door, Severus realized a bit guiltily that he'd completely forgotten she was sitting there.
~~~
Ginny checked the small pocket
watch hanging from her bag for what seemed, to her, to be the thousandth time.
It would be fantastic if her hour would be up and she could get away from the odious little prat. He'd been sitting there, sketching on his parchment for the better part of an hour, staring at her every two or three seconds, eyes intense and hooded.
Creepy, she insisted to herself as her ever-curious eyes strained to see the drawing.
"If you want to ask, all you have to do is say so," Draco said without looking up, his head bent over the sheet of parchment, thick blonde locks dropping into his eyes. "But far be it from me to try and teach an oh-so-good-and-proper Weasley some manners."
"Shove off, Malfoy," Ginny said, scowling. "Why would I want to see some picture you've drawn of me getting eaten by a dragon, or me with a hex thrown on me?"
And then he'd held the drawing up, damn him to blazes.
It was good, shockingly so, no dragons or hexmarks to be found, only her toiling over her homework, hair brushing the desk and dropping over her shoulders, the tip of her tongue touched to her lips in a show of concentration.
Draco slid the drawing onto her desk, gathered his things, and walked to the door just as the hour was up.
"Don't you want this?" Ginny asked, holding up the parchment and standing.
He never turned around, only turned the doorknob and spoke as he walked into the hallway. "What in the bloody hell would I want a picture of a Weasley for?"
Ginny had nothing left to do but voice the completely frustrated yowl that came to her lips.
~~~
"You're shaking." Remus's voice was gentle, but there was strength underneath it, more than a little bit of anger at the thought that someone had frightened her so. He'd been able to protect her, once, but not as much as he would have liked.
There were limits to how well you could do anything when you'd been turned into a wolf.
"It's just eerie," Dea said, her hands splayed on Remus's chest, the soft and steady beat of his heart under her palms. "I wasn't expecting it."
"Are you all right?"
She seemed to think about this for a moment, then she tilted her head back and smiled at him. "Of course." But her brow was furrowed in thought, and he kissed the worried wrinkle that formed in the middle of her forehead. "It's Severus I'm worried about."
To his credit, Remus didn't even bat an eyelash, much as he wanted to. "Severus is a grown man."
"Dealing with a woman who looks like his best friend, turned into his worst enemy."
Remus released her from his embrace slowly, tangling his fingers with hers as he started a long-limbed shamble down the hallway, shoving his graying hair out of his eyes with his other hand. She ran to catch up, their hands clasped between them, and looked up at him. "Where are you going?"
"To talk to Albus. It looks like we're going to be here for a while," he said, smiling as he looked straight ahead.
She was too damned easy to indulge, and he was too confident to let the thought of Severus daunt him anymore. He liked to think they'd come to a sort of agreement before they'd left for America.
And for that, the lone remaining Marauder thought, he owed Severus plenty.