Disclaimer: I do not own HP. I repeat, I do NOT own HP. But, of course, you lot know this, right? If not, whack yourself repeatedly in the head with a blunt object until you do.

Serpens Erus Temptatio

"Serpent Lord's Temptation"

Chapter 10 – So Far Down

Two hours later, Mischa had gotten a thorough history lesson and was blinking several times as she processed it. Harry was watching her with an amused smirk on his face, Medusa perched on his shoulder.

Mischa shook her head slowly and looked curiously at him.

"That is a complicated story."

"Very," said Harry. "Looking back on it, its even more complicated than it was then."

Mischa smiled and said, "I find it amazing that you and Severus became friends after hating each other for four years."

"Now there's where many people are wrong. I disliked Professor Snape as much as he did me. But I don't think we ever truly hated each other."

"Aren't they the same person?"

Harry shook his head.

"No," he said, "there is a fine line between Professor Severus Snape and Severus Snape. They have the same name but are by no means the same person. He's certainly still as sarcastic as ever but I think three years with me and Hermione woke up something in him."

"What?" asked Mischa.

"His soul. Or at least a part of it. You'll get to meet him someday."

"Does these mean we're…" Mischa looked at him curiously and flicked her fingers absently. A small smile flickered across Harry's face and he leaned towards her.

"Only if you want."

Mischa smiled and said softly, "I do."

"There you are then," said Harry. He picked up an empty mug at his feet – which had once held hot chocolate – then reached for the mug Mischa still clasped in her hands. She turned it over and smiled as he took them over to the small sink in the corner of the room. When he returned, he sat on the couch instead of the chair he'd occupied for the past two hours.

Mischa looked at him for a moment then rose and moved to sit beside him. Harry shifted slightly beside her, a sudden memory of himself and Ginny sitting just like that on the couch in Gryffindor Tower springing to mind. He closed his eyes tight and pulled Mischa close, pressing his face into her dark hair, breathing in her scent. She smelt of lilies and wood smoke – a potent scent that he breathed in deeply to rid himself of the memory.

The woman in his arms found the sudden, fierce embrace disturbing. But she relaxed against him, sensing some turmoil within him. She didn't know what it was exactly but it didn't take much for her to figure out that it had to have something to do with Ginny Weasley.

Leaning back against him, Mischa closed her eyes as Medusa leapt up into her lap. The tiny cat rumbled a purr before curling up in the woman's lap, tucking her long tail about her nose. Harry smiled at the cat over Mischa's head and felt a swell of pride for the tiny creature. She tolerated many, his Medusa, but very few did she truly accept. Her show of curling up in Mischa's lap was her informing her master of her acceptance of the woman.

Oh, how he loved that damn cat.

"Uncle Harry?"

"Uhn…" grumbled Harry, lifting his head to cast a glare at the closed and heavily warded door. His neck protested the motion and he groaned, causing the slumbering woman in his arms to shift. Mischa turned slightly and buried her face in his neck, one arm sliding around his waist.

"Uncle Harry?" came the voice from the other side of the door again.

"Coming, Tris," called Harry, turning his head from side to side. His neck cracked rather loudly, which caused him to wince and Mischa to peer up at him with bleary eyes.

"W'as goin' on?" she mumbled.

"Tristen," replied Harry. "I don't think my godson should see two of his professors together."

"I'm not a professor yet," said Mischa in a stage whisper as she fully awoke. She knew very well how voices sometimes carried in castles and Harry silently applauded her.

"You still teach. Now, to the bedroom with you, woman."

Mischa grinned and got up, stretching. She then bowed as she backed towards his bedroom, taking on a Hokey accent as she said, "Yes, master. Mischa obey, master."

Harry rolled his eyes at her and waved his hand at her in a shooing motion. Mischa grinned and vanished behind the curtain, Medusa trailing behind her. When the curtain stopped swinging, Harry rose and walked to the door.

"Yes?" he said, looking down at his godson as he opened the door. "And what would you be doing at my door, young man?"

Tristen didn't respond to the slightly joking tone he'd been using. That sent Harry's inner alarm off immediately.

"Tris?" he asked, concern in his voice now, all joking gone. "Is something wrong?"

"Mum and Dad are here," said the eleven-year-old softly.

"What? Why?"

"Mum's been hurt. Dad…Dad said he didn't trust anyone else to take care of her." The eleven-year-old turned wide dark eyes on his godfather and continued, "They kicked me out."

Harry felt a swoop of fear go through him before it settled in his gut. Madam Pomfrey had allowed Severus to stay but had kicked Tristen out of the hospital wing? That sent even more alarm bells off in his head.

And he was beginning to hate his inner alarms.

"Come in here," he finally said, moving back from the door. Tristen scooted inside and Harry closed the door behind him. It gave a rather final sounding click, which sent a shiver through both man and boy.

Mischa suddenly appeared, causing Tristen's eyes to widen. He looked from his godfather to the journeywoman then back again.

"Uncle…"

"Not now, Tris," said Harry. He then looked at Mischa and said, "Tristen's parents are here. His mother was injured somehow and we are going to the hospital wing."

"I'll get my things and slip out," said Mischa. "No trouble."

Harry smiled gratefully at her then took Tristen by the shoulders and steered him out of the set of rooms. Medusa slipped out into the hallway just before the door closed and padded after her master, growing to the size of a large dog as they walked. Her huge, almond eyes glowed with an inner light, giving the two wizards something more to see by than torchlight.

Harry glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearly eleven at night. Tristen should had been asleep long ago. But Severus would never have allowed his son to stay asleep as his mother lay inured in the hospital wing.

They traveled in silence until they reached the hospital wing. Medusa stationed herself outside the doors as Harry and Tristen entered. The boy ran hurriedly towards the curtained area at the end of the room whilst his godfather looked at the bed to his right. Severus sat there, his entire right arm swathed in bandages. Another bandage wound about his head, causing his green and black hair to spike wildly. Harry noticed that the dark eyes were glazed and he gingerly sat down beside the other man.

"Sev?" he queried softly.

The bandaged head turned towards him and Severus breathed, "Harry. I…" He trailed off, swallowing hard.

"What happened?" asked Harry. He sensed that he needed to be careful with his questions. The tremors in his friend's voice and the ones that were racing through his body told him that Severus was on the edge. That scared him more than anything.

He'd seen the ex-Death Eater spy in many ways. Bastard, friend, and angry wrath were all included on his list. Quivering in fear was not.

And it scared the bejeezus out of him to see him in that state.

"Death Eaters," came the soft reply. "Well prepared. Got caught off guard."

Harry cast a glance towards the curtained area where Tristen had disappeared and said, "Mione?"

Severus closed his eyes and tucked his chin to his chest.

"She was asleep when they came. I was in my office and didn't even know they were there till I heard her scream. The wards never even went off."

Harry's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to a nearly imperceptible slit.

"Cruciatus?" he breathed.

Severus nodded slowly and looked up at him. He softly said, "Six at once. Four different times."

"Merlin's beard," swore Harry. "Sev…that's worse than what the Lestranges did to the Longbottom's. Oh Herm…"

"I know what'll happen," said Severus. "She'll be put in the ward at St. Mungo's and Tristen will never be able to have a conversation with his mother again. I've seen the Longbottom's, Harry. I've seen everyone in that ward. I've been trying to figure out a way to keep that curse from driving people crazy for years."

"Sev," said Harry, sensing his friends thoughts, "don't start blaming yourself."

"I won't blame you," hissed Severus, staring hard at him.

"No. But don't blame yourself either. We've both already been down that road before."

"I know."

"And you can't fall apart, no matter what." Harry nodded towards Tristen, who was emerging from behind the curtains. "You've got him to worry about."

Severus looked at his son for a moment before he turned his dark gaze back on his friend.

"I can't lose her, Harry."

Harry placed a comforting hand on Severus' shoulder and nodded slowly.

"I know, Sev. I know…" Harry jerked suddenly and hissed, "What about Liana?"

The other man's shoulders shook and Harry's heart sank. Rage filled him at the thought of Liana, the newest addition to the Snape family, to have been killed by the monsters that had tortured her mother. His eyes burned black and he snarled, "We'll get them, Sev. I swear we will."

A/N: For those who don't know, bejeezus could be a synonym for several words. Its generally used in the phrase "Scared the bejeezus out of me" and can be interchanged with Hell, shit, or any other word that would fit the situation. As its not in the dictionary and I don't believe I've ever heard a Northerner say it, I'm going to presume that it's a Southern word. Don't we Southron folk have an odd language?