A/N: The author is still alive and successfully avoiding doing any real work. There is fluent cursing in chapter. Ann can become violent when in a bad mood. Just warning you.

9. Home

It was a bad day from the beginning. Severus Snape, the most feared professor at Hogwarts, awoke to find himself being cuddled like a giant teddy bear by a ten year old. To make matters worse, Jack groaned and gripped Severus's gray nightshirt even tighter every time he tried to disengage himself, as so Severus was embarrassingly caught by Sirius, his former schoolmate and tormentor, snuggling with a little boy he'd barely known longer than a month. Before he could explain, Sirius grinned, gave a mock bow and tip-toed away. It hadn't been a nice grin. It was the same grin Sirius and James had shared every time they were bored enough to bully Severus, which was often. "Damn," Severus muttered. His reputation stunk enough as it was - Sirius didn't buy the "evil potions master" façade that the rest of the school, including young Potter, accepted so readily. He would have to remember to be especially nasty today.

Jack, being the brat he was, chose that moment to wake up. "Damn!" he repeated happily. Pleased with his newly learned word, he pressed his warm body closer to Severus's cool one and fell back asleep, pulling the deep blue covers closer around him.

"You're getting soft," he admonished himself later as he glared into the bathroom mirror on the way to his morning shower. He made the water extra cold today, not even bothering to touch the warm knob. The cold water splattered off the black tiles back onto his calves. He was so used to waking up at dawn that even an hour or two later made him groggy the whole day. Not willing to disturb Jack, he had lain there for two hours staring at the ceiling. Although getting up at eight was extremely early for a child so young, Severus was ready to chastise him for taking so long. He even had a slightly witty comment ready to fire at Jack when the little brat sleepily opened his eyes and gave him a loud, sloppy kiss on his forehead. Severus was frozen in shock as Jack yawned in his face.

"Brat," he muttered as Jack started jumping up and down on the bed, anxious for him to finish dressing and cook pancakes. "Brat, brat!" Jack repeated, jumping on one leg, then the other.

It took Sirius less than five minutes to appear in the long, narrow kitchen after Severus. As much as the mongrel hated him, he couldn't deny that the potions master was an excellent cook. In addition to banging his big toe on the stove and burning his hand once in the fire, Severus found afterwards that Jack and Sirius had finished all but two of the pancakes, eating each one as soon as it was done. At least there was plenty coffee. He gritted his teeth. He had no one to take his anger out on because they both disappeared as quickly as the pancakes. It wasn't that he was actually hungry, it was more the lack of respect. He wished they had bothered to thank him so he could give them a look of disdain.

He put the two remaining pancakes on a tray and soaked them in butter and syrup, just the way Ann liked them. Ann liked to eat a full, hearty breakfast, which Severus never understood since she usually fell back asleep until noon after waking at seven just to eat. The ways of woman were mysterious and strange.

He knocked politely on the door, but didn't bother to pause before briskly walking into Ann's room. 'My room,' he corrected himself. 'On loan.' Ann sat straight up under her tangle of sheets as soon as she heard the click of the door opening. She blinked her eyes dazedly at the man walking around the room, setting the tray in front of her and opening the windows.

"Don't!" she complained. "Too bright." He opened the shade half-way.

"And I'm the one they say is a vampire," Severus commented.

"You are - you stay up all night. You're insane. What is this? I don't want your bloody pancakes. You can take this syrupy concoction and shove it up your-"

"Cheerful as always," he said dryly, sitting at the edge of the bed, making sure he was far enough away that her feet didn't touch him. She rubbed her red eyes furiously. Her face was still shiny from sleep and her short dark brown hair stood up on the left side of her face, but he thought she looked beautiful. If only she wasn't such a damn bitch! She had been awake for less than a day now after being in a coma three days, and had already tried to escape twice. The first time she simply walked out the door and down the beach. She would have made it back to her own house, too, if Severus hadn't been playing with Jack outside. The second time she climbed out the window - he had no idea how as she could barely walk. She neglected, however, to consider the fact that Severus's window was directly beneath her own. She had claimed at the time that she needed to go for a walk or a short run. Pending further inquiry she said that she was going to take back the book that was rightfully hers and that Severus was an ugly bastard and she hated his guts. Rather than becoming softer towards him after he saved her, she now proclaimed to hate him with a passion.

Ann sniffed the pancakes suspiciously. He had put sleeping potion in her soup last night, but she had recognized the taste and thrown the bowl across the room, narrowly missing his head. Finally, her taste buds overcame her desire to annoy Severus, and she began eating in earnest. She glanced up briefly when she was half-way done. "Yeah, they're great and all if that's what you want to know, not that I give a fuck." Being bed- ridden had put Ann in the sourest mood Severus had seen yet - and that was saying something.

She finished the last of her pancakes and downed the coffee in one gulp. She suddenly struggled to stand out of bed, throwing back the light blue sheets. He grabbed her arm, about to demand what she was doing, but she pulled away and shouted in his face, "What the hell is wrong with you? I'm freaking going to use the bathroom! Get off me!" She was shaking with anger. There was a red mark on her arm from where Severus had grabbed her.

'Geez, can we say PMS?' Snape thought maliciously. "Of course, the bathroom is at your disposal, your Highness."

She rounded back on him in the doorway to the connecting bathroom. "Look you slime-bucket: I didn't ask for you to bring me here, and I didn't ask for you to try to control my life! I've lived for twenty-five years without your help and I damn well don't need it now!" She slammed the door behind her.

"You sure did a fine job of proving that!" he shrieked into the closed door. "You almost died! You hear me? You could have died from that bloody infection and you were too stubborn, too proud - no, too bloody stupid to care! How could you do that to Jack? How could you do that to me?!" But the door stared back blankly at him. He heard Ann moving around inside, seemingly ignoring him. "You want to go back and kill yourself? Well, fine - but don't expect me to come after you to pick up the pieces when you bloody fail!" It was the worst possible thing he could ever say to her, he knew, but he couldn't stop himself from releasing the bitter emotions he had held ever since Ann first left him.

She gave up all pretense of ignoring him by opening the bathroom door and glaring at him. She was in her underwear. Black underwear. Her skin looked so smooth he wanted to reach out and touch it. He was so mad at her obvious taunting that he seriously considered hitting her. Maybe he should grab her hair and shove her head under water for several minutes until she was ready to listen to sense.

"Is that so?" she whispered. "Well know this - I never fail. Never. If you continue to stand in my way, I will kill you." She gently closed the door behind her.

He sat down heavily on the bed. Geez. He dragged himself out into the hallway to find Jack sitting on the stairs. "Why you yelling?" he asked. Severus shook his head. "Why you mad?"

Severus sat down next to him. "Jack. . .sometimes people just don't understand what's best for them."

"But if you care this much, why you yell?"

Severus stared at him. "Cuh - care?" he sputtered. "That bitch! Look at everything I've done for her, and what does she do? Yell at me! Call me names like a child! Threaten to kill me!" He was spitting with rage. "She doesn't care about anything: herself, you, or me. . ." He held his aching head in his hands and groaned. Jack patted him on the back. "I'd better make sure she hasn't killed herself."

He knocked on the door but received no answer. "Ann?" She didn't answer. "I'm coming in." The bedroom was empty, but water was still running from the bathroom. The lazy bitch was taking a shower. 'Great way to avoid me,' he thought. 'Take your time. See if I care.'

He walked downstairs and paced his library aimlessly. His relationship with Ann had been taking a turn for the better a week ago, and now they couldn't exchange one civil word between the two of them. He supposed it was better this way. There was no point in getting close to people. The Dark Lord had been gone now for over a decade, but he still couldn't allow himself the leisure of pretending to be normal. If he were a normal wizard, he would be worried over nothing more than who would win the World Cup that Britain was hosting this year. Instead he was tracking rumors about ancient curses and century old books and dark forests while babysitting a woman with a death-wish and a serial-killer escaped from Azkaban. It was strange that the two grown-ups required stricter watching than Jack, who was only ten but still independent and competent. "Why me?" he moaned out loud.

'Stop that!' he commanded of himself. Potions masters don't moan and they don't show weakness. He picked a random Dark Arts book off one of the cherry bookshelves and tried to read. When he came across a passage about curses, however, it brought back such strong memories of Ann's trip that he ended up chucking the book at the opposite wall. 'I'll talk to her,' he decided. 'Just talk.' She would have to listen to sense. He would tell her everything: how he had been a Death Eater, and why that enabled him to hear the rumors, and how her trying to rescue her lost book was a dangerous mission. She would have to understand. She would hate him, understandably, but she would reconsider her plans. If she knew that Death Eaters were after her she would have to stop. She would have to. Surely she could figure out that she would come after the book? Surely she could figure out it would be an ambush?

Determined, he swept back down the narrow hallway to the stairs. Jack was no where to be seen. He knocked on the door but received no answer. "Ann? We have to talk. I have to make you understand. You won't like this, but you'll understand. . ." He put his ear to the door. Silence.

He opened the door to find the room abandoned. The water in the shower was still running. 'That woman must take the longest bloody showers of anyone I've ever known,' he guessed. He went back down the hallway and sat on the top step of the stairs. Something irked him in the back of his head. There was some small detail that kept running around, trying to find a place to be interpreted. What? What? Oh, yes - the room had changed slightly. Ann must have cleaned up.

He went back in her bedroom and looked around. The covers were pushed almost all the way off the bed and her bag had been moved from the chair to. . .or had she taken it with her into the shower? In less than a second he flew across the room and flung open the bathroom door. He was greeted by an empty shower and an open window. He ran to the window and looked outside to find nothing but trees. She had escaped.

"Damn you!!!"

Ann couldn't see anything through all the grime that coated the window, especially on a night this dark, but if she pressed her ear to the crack at the bottom she could just make out voices inside. She had followed Yakov from his house to this public swimming pool which had long been abandoned. He had walked into the bathhouse as if he owned it, but Ann had gotten close enough to see that his eyes darted around furtively as he entered. Right now she was lying stomach down on the roof and trying to determine what she was up against. There were several voices inside: a man with a deep, gravely voice, a woman with a high, nasal voice, another man with a curt voice, and finally Yakov, who spoke with a thick Russian accent. The other three had been speaking in French when she first climbed up, but when Yakov entered they all switched to English.

"Have you had any success?" Ann heard Yakov's asthmatic voice float through the window.

"None, sir. There seems to be an imperturbable charm on this case. We need to discover the key - probably some kind of password, I would guess. Without it, we could tear the case to shreds and not find a thing."

"Damn it! You should have kept that blasted woman with you! What were you thinking, just leaving her there to walk away?"

The woman spoke. "There was no way that girl did any walking. You didn't see the condition she was in. A strong wind could have knocked her over. She was covered in blood, probably injured by some animal that attacked her in the woods, and her foot was infected with what looked like a strong poison."

"You still should not have left it to chance that she would still be there when you returned!" Yakov shouted, enraged that his will was being disputed.

"Our priority was the book, sir. That woman obviously had help from an outside source. If had stayed, we might have risked loosing the book."

"You could have handled it."

"This Wyvern fellow is extremely powerful. The only reason we have the book is because we ran into some Muggle he was using to deliver the book. If we had stayed. How can we find one faceless Muggle in thousands? He has probably erased her memory by now," the deep voiced man spoke.

Ann heard furious pacing. 'Just like Severus,' she thought fondly. But then she remembered she was supposed to be mad at him, so she quickly pushed the thought away. She grimaced at their conversation; she knew she should be happy that they weren't expecting her at all - they would only prepare for a direct magical attack, not Muggle stealth. They would not even suspect her, but assume she was acting under orders. She knew this should please her because it meant they were unprepared, but their assumptions that they were up against a powerful wizard - a man - it irked the hell out of her. 'If only I could show them exactly how strong I am. . .' she thought, picturing the repayment she'd give them for taking her book last week, and worse, her pride. "Damnation!" she whispered to herself.

". . .contact me at once."

"Oh course, sir. Should we keep a full guard here?"

"No, go ahead home, Estella, no one knows about this place. Even Reilly doesn't know where we are," Yakov answered. Reilly! This was news to Ann. Reilly was one of the most slippery characters Ann had the misfortune of knowing. He wasn't actually an employee of Hegemony, Inc., nor did he hold any official position of power, but he somehow exerted influence over the entire company in ways Ann had yet to find out. It was Reilly, for instance, that had converted Yakov from the emotional but reliable man she knew into this lying animal below. She'd never even seen Reilly, nor did she know his first name. His! She caught herself making the same assumption that most book thieves made about her. Maybe Reilly was a woman? 'And maybe her first name is Mary,' she thought wryly, with a small grin.

She waited more than ten minutes after Yakov left. One man and a woman left the building and disapparated, but one more drove up in a motorcycle and went inside. She also had to account for the possibility that there might be more people inside. Not the mention the fact that should couldn't discount anti-thieving wards; although since they hadn't even bothered to put one around the bathhouse to prevent people like Ann from listening in they couldn't have put up many wards at all. They sounded extremely confident - too confident. Either they were incredibly stupid or else they had reason to be. They had put up the anti-Muggle wards, of course, making Ann's head buzz faintly with worries of missed appointments. But Ann was used to doing and thinking several different things at once; she left her worries to another section of her brain and used the rest to concentrate on the task at hand.

While planning the attack, she realized exactly just how incompetent and unprepared she was. Sure she had what equipment she had been able to sneak out from under Severus's excessively long nose, but she felt so exposed without a definite plan. Sneak in, find book, run like hell. Usually when she did something dangerous it was after months and months of agonizing research and strict practice.

'No, you can do this,' she told herself. She had her knives hidden in her boot and sleeve, her pixie-dust to cover her tracks, a few healing and explosive vials of potions tucked into her pouch. She was woman enough to take them all on and win. The lack of security continued to disturb her, but she would deal with what happened as it came.

The strangest thing was, she couldn't stop thinking about Severus and Jack. She wondered for a brief instant if she had let someone know where she was, just so they'd know if something went wrong. What would Jack do without her? She shook her head. What was she, his self-appointed guardian angel? Severus would take care of him. Severus. She found she didn't want to think about him at all.

After searching, she found a window that had been broken, leaving only an empty frame. It was on the opposite side of the building from where the voices had come, but at least this way she'd have a chance to sneak into the room unseen. 'Or be caught wandering around trying to find it,' she amended. She traced the outline of the knife in her sleeve nervously.

The room was dark except for the moonlight that fell in the window after her. She let go of the ledge and dropped down to the ground. She held her breath, hoping no one had heard the slight noise she had made upon landing.

Silence.

She was in a dressing room of some sort. She could make out showers to her left, and what looked like gaping holes on her right - no, those must be either changing rooms or bathroom stalls, but she was too creeped out by them to want to get any closer. She found a door along the opposite wall, but found it was stuck. Damn! It took her a good five minutes to pry it open without making any noise, and then ten more minutes to open it. She had to go millimeter by millimeter because the hinges were well rusted and would creak otherwise. Outside was a hallway that led to a lobby. She peeked out into the lit lobby. There was a front door on at the far end, a desk closer to her. A man sat at the desk, his back to her, as he was facing the front door. Time for her darts. She dipped one in her strongest sleeping potion and shot it at the man's neck. Bull's eye!

He didn't even make much of a sound when he fell. This was good. She edged along the wall and peeked out. There was the outside guard, his back to the door. She sneaked across to the short hallway that led to the changing room on the other side. 'Oh, look at me, going in the men's bathroom!' she thought. 'Heh, heh, you pervert, you.'

It was as easy as annoying Severus (which was extremely easy indeed). After checking the room for any lurking villains, she strode over and took the case. "Book, book, I love you!" she whispered to it, snuggling the case close to her breast. She didn't think she could get any happier than she was now. She turned to go, but suddenly found herself surrounded by a gold haze.

And she had assumed they wouldn't have any wards up. She tried to go through it, but it stopped her. It was like trying to cross a brick wall. She heard running footsteps coming from the lobby.

'Fine, try to stop me, go on,' she dared them. It was taking a risk, a huge risk, but she couldn't let herself be captured again and it was the only plan she could think up on the spot. Wards are set into the ground - mess up the ground and the ward will fall. Unless made otherwise, for instance, you could crawl underneath a ward like it was a fence if you were capable of burrowing underground. But she had a more convenient way: she took out her vial of EXE and threw it against the floor on one side of the ward circle that encompassed her. It was extremely dangerous to be in such close contact with the substance, but what was life if not dangerous. The outside guard was here. He started to reach through the ward towards her, his wand outstretched and ready to stun. Without hesitation, she made herself as small as possible and hid behind her case, which had the strongest imperturbable charm on it money could buy, and said the incantation.

She must have passed out from the impact, because the next thing she knew she was lying against a moldy wall. Her head throbbed, and her entire body felt sore and broken. After a few moments of dizziness and after a minute or so of retching, she felt well enough to lift her head and look around. The only good thing about the explosion, besides crumpling the ward, was that it had thrown the man against the wall too. He was still passed out. She crawled closer, ready to use another vial of sleeping potion to ensure that he stayed that way when she saw she had been mistaken. His head had cracked open against a corner of a pillar he had sailed past.

'Oh good,' she thought numbly, 'now I'm a murderer. Murderess. Fuck!'

She limped out the door and back across the lobby to the other changing room. There she stopped and sat on a dusty bench, opening the case. It was illogical and stupid, but she couldn't go through another minute without even looking at the book. She only wanted to touch it, just for a second, to make sure. It was there, sure enough, and as beautiful as it had been the first time she laid eyes on it. She inhaled it's wonderfully musty aroma and brushed her cheek against the cover. She sighed.

'Stop that now!' she commanded herself. She put the book away - she would read it on the flight home. She had a night flight and a seat by the window, and would have it finished within the eight hours and several different planes it would take to arrive at London. She climbed out the window with considerably more difficulty that it had taken to climb in. The trees of the surrounding wood were just beginning to block her view of the bathhouse when she heard the pops signifying the arrival of more wizards and witches. No doubt the ward had served more as an alarm than anything else. She shuddered to think how close she had been to being trapped like a fly in a jar. Thankfully, they all ran inside first instead of immediately searching the grounds.

She wasn't worried. They couldn't follow her using magic because of the pixie dust she had used, and if they managed to find her and try to stop her she would run - a moving target was much harder to hit with curses and they wouldn't be able to keep up with her for ten miles, magic or no. She had her book, her pride was newly intact, she could beat up anybody that threatened her, and in a couple of months she would go to London to exchange her goods for a shitload of money. Life was good.

'Maybe life isn't that great afterall,' she amended as she walked down the path towards Severus's house on the cliffs. She prepared herself to be as cold as possible. 'I won't show emotion, I won't! I won't let that git bait me. I'll walk in, cool as you please, thank him stiffly for his hospitality and say that I'm there to pick up Jack and go home.'

And then it would be time to move on. She couldn't stay in the same place, not with a new project. It wasn't in her nature to be tied down. Severus had no right to know any of her business anyway. If he tried to stop her she would sock him in the nose.

As the glow from the windows of the house grew larger and larger in the still night air her stomach shrank tighter and tighter. It had been a couple days since she had ran away - no, she didn't 'run away,' she left. 'Run away' made it sound like she was doing something she shouldn't. Severus was the only one who thought she shouldn't go. Even Sirius had been enthusiastically for her adventure, but then again his judgment wasn't completely reliable as he had apparently been caged up for a very long time and was still caged up by Severus all summer.

She tried to picture Severus's look of fury when she explained this to him, not staying long enough for him to argue back. The only reason he was so adamant about her going was because of the stupid rumors he had heard - mysterious activity in Albania, searches for books that never should exist. . . He was afraid someone would use her to find Lyrinx. . .no, she wouldn't even think about it. The possibility of anyone finding her, much less using her, was absurd. She was M. A. Wyvern and she had outsmarted the best of the best. 'Ha, I am woman, hear me roar,' she sang to herself.

'In fact,' she realized, mulling over the details, 'he probably doesn't give a shit about me at all. Which is fine. He just wants to make sure no one gets that book.' Well, he didn't have to worry, because her next project would be taking her eventually to Antarctica or the North Pole - one of the poles distinctly mentioned in references to a book on using mind control over animals. She had her own commissions for books, whether Severus admitted it or not. 'Gosh, it's too bad some of us have lives,' she thought maliciously.

She had herself almost ready to smack him by the time she knocked politely on the door. It was less than a minute later when it was opened by a disheveled looking Severus. She stepped into the parlor. He closed the door behind her and followed.

"The business has been taken care of," she said nonchalantly. "I've come for Jack. It was exceedingly generous of you to look after him while I was away - what the blazes happened to you?"

She had been avoiding his gaze but turned to find that his face, under bright light, was drawn and large shadows were under his eyes.

He stared at her. "I should bloody be asking the same thing. Look at you - you're covering in grime, there's blood on your case, I can smell it - you're face is covered in bruises. You look like you've been run over by a rampaging Hippogryph. I've haven't gotten a wink of sleep in nearly two weeks because of you! You go traipsing halfway across the world and then just walk in like nothing happened." His words were angry, but his voice was soft ('and silky', she added). He looked distracted.

"What? What's wrong? Did something happen?" she demanded. Was it Jack? Her heart hammered in her ears.

"There have been some strange things happening. Black's godson, Potter, awoke a few days ago with a sharp pain in his forehead, where his curse scar is. The last time that happened, according to Albus, was when Voldemort was at Hogwarts."

"But it doesn't mean-"

"A group of Death Eaters paraded around at the Quidditch World Cup earlier this evening, ending in the Dark Mark being displayed over the area. I just heard the news a few hours ago." He was looking out the dark window, his back to her. She could see the weariness in his back. "All this. . .you see, I was worried. But if you don't even care about yourself, I don't see why I should."

"Because I didn't ask you to! When will you grow up? This is serious - Death Eaters exposing themselves publicly? And you're still being a - mhpp- " Severus covered her mouth with his thin hand. He drew her close to him and whispered in her ear, "Shhh, shhhh." She turned her head so that her cheek was pressed against his robe. He stroked her back so lightly a spider could have been crawling across it. She tried, unsuccessfully, to stop herself from shivering.

She pulled away from him just enough to look up into his obsidian eyes. "I still hate you," she said, but the venom that she had held in wait to attack him with was slowly leaking away. She felt weak and numb. What did any of it matter?

He heard her, but not what she said, only what she didn't say. He nodded. "You miserable old-" she tried again, but he stopped her from talking again, stroking her cheek with his long fingers.

"Welcome home," he murmured, a small sarcastic grin on his face. She felt her lips tremble and wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or laugh or scream, or perhaps all three at the same time. He leaned down and kissed her softly on her cheek, then the corner of her mouth, then he was kissing her for real this time and she was sure she was going to scream. His lips became, for a second, an extension of her own. She felt his hands reached up and brushed lightly through her hair.

She couldn't stand anymore - she was ready to explode. Or kill someone. While eating ice cream.

"Do you have any ice cream?" she asked, jerking her lips away from his.

He blinked. "Ice cream?"

"Yes, I'm hungry," she said over her shoulder, striding into the kitchen as familiarly as if it was her house.

He watched her disappear into the living room on the way to the kitchen. Women! He walked out the front, slamming the door behind him. The path was dry and dusty but the night air was perfect for helping make the knot in his groin disappear.

A/N: I will try to update more often than once every six months. Please don't eat me! I promise to be a good girl!

Thanks to Wingsong, Lisa Beattie, MegMeg the one and only, Lady Slytherin3, and Bex the Bold for reviewing! Thanks especially to Lisa Beattie for threatening to kill me! I love death threats - they keep me on my toes and remind me, every now and then, to update.