This is a fanfiction based in JKR's world of Harry Potter. Original characters are mine. All others are hers. Please see the first chapter for full disclaimers and credits to my wonderful team of betas. I've had a lot of help with this story!

Alternate Universe to Half-blood Prince.

Chapter 2: Reacquainting

The stillness of the empty Ministry corridor was shattered by a loud sound, like the crackle of electricity. It was then immediately followed by a sharp, masculine grunt of discomfort. This unexpected disturbance startled Rowena out of her thoughts. She was working late, alone in her lab again, and so had warded the open doorway. Looking up to see who had run into her magical seal, she could barely contain her surprise.

A tall, slender man with shoulder-length, ebony hair stood in the corridor just outside the door.

Severus Snape!

He was rubbing his shoulder where it had contacted the field, scowling angrily at the seemingly empty space. Producing his wand, he prodded the invisible barrier inquisitively.

"Fascinating. Your own creation?" he asked coolly, barely glancing in her direction.

Her heart was pounding, and for a moment she was unable to speak; all she could do was nod dumbly and stare in shock.

How could it be that he was here? It was as though he had stepped out of a thousand wild dreams and imaginings. Was he real, or had her ridiculous fantasies finally taken her completely around the twist?

He seemed even taller than the last time she had seen him, and there were lines on his face that had not been there before. Otherwise, he had changed very little.

Rowena knew his visage almost as well as her own… perhaps better. The face was sharp and angular, with a distinctive, prominent nose, expressive mouth, and black, bottomless eyes. Those eyes had always seemed capable of peering into her very soul. The scowl was equally familiar, as was the sneering silk of his baritone voice. All of it precisely the same as it had been, as though she had just gazed at him wistfully for the final time, right before leaving Hogwarts on her last day as a student.

Forcibly rousing herself from her immobility, she went to the door with her own wand and cancelled the field. She attempted to calm her mind with disused Occlumency discipline. The effort was marginally successful, though she could not calm her racing heart.

"Yes, I always seal the lab when I'm here alone," Rowena said, and was pleased that her voice sounded normal, or at least normal i enough /i to someone who had not heard it in twenty years.

Severus stepped inside, still examining the door, and then looked at the shoulder of his robes as though checking for burn or scorch marks.

"It seems effective, though apparently harmless. You might try something stronger for more security—and be less willing to open it for strangers," he said somewhat distractedly.

She didn't bother to try and contradict him. To her, he was no stranger.

He looked at her then, with silent appraisal. She did not appear any taller than his vague recollections, which meant that he towered more than a head above her in height. Her thin stature still gave the appearance that a strong wind would waft her away. Yet she had gentle, feminine curves, modestly concealed beneath robes which were neat and functional. Wide brown eyes seemed to nearly overwhelm her heart-shaped face, but they met his gaze unflinchingly. She was tolerable, in a nondescript, earthy sort of way.

He experienced an odd sort of lurching sensation in his chest when their eyes met, but it passed quickly, and he dismissed it as nothing. Moving to the center of the room, he casually leaned one hip against her worktable. In haughty silence, he glanced about the place.

The room itself was enormous, but had been honeycombed with cubicle dividers along both its long walls, leaving a narrow, open space down the center. Numerous long, spell-scarred wooden tables lined this area. Clearly, many different researchers shared the communal space and supplies. No doubt working late allowed her more freedom of access to limited facilities, and more privacy in her work.

"I have been sent by Albus Dumbledore," he said at last, returning his sharp gaze to her. "Apparently you offered him assistance, which he wishes to accept. He seems to think that some of your more delicate research ought not to be conducted here, due to Ministry politics. You probably know more of that than I do.

"The Headmaster wishes to offer you the use of research space at Hogwarts in exchange for your assistance in strengthening the school's defenses, when you have time. He also wishes you to have an escort whenever you travel to and from Hogwarts, in case the Ministry should choose to make things unpleasant for you."

He presented this with a rather bored air, and then turned his powers of observation to her personal work area. Aside from the papers on the table where she had just been sitting, it was neat and orderly. Her cubicle walls were spattered with numerous photos, though she deftly stepped in front of him when he made a move to look closer.

"Why did the Headmaster send you?" she asked, trying to draw his attention to herself, rather than those rather incriminating pictures around her station. It wouldn't do for him to recognise his own image in many of them.

He looked down at her and raised an expressive eyebrow.

"I am Professor Snape, Potions master at Hogwarts. You may recall that I attended school at the same time as your brother," he said, and then watched her closely for her reaction.

She paled instantly, and drew in a sharp hiss of breath. But her eyes grew dark and murky, and she seemed to grow in size with her anger.

"Who told you? Remus John Lupin is no brother to me—by his own insistence. Who sent you? What's this really about? I don't know why you would do Remus' bidding, but I assure you that if this is his—or your—idea of a joke I don't find it the least bit funny. I should warn you, I can be quite creative in my retaliations. I learnt from watching the master, after all."

Smirking, he watched her rant as he casually seated himself in a nearby chair, pulling it up to her workstation. The scattered parchment seemed to invite perusal, and so he glanced over some of the nearer pages while she carried on. He was finding himself highly amused by her diatribe, which seemed to only enrage her further.

"The master of retaliations?" he asked sardonically. "I was not aware that I had earned such a title. I will have to add it to my others. I assure you I am not here on Lupin's bidding. You sent your little note to Albus, and he decided it needed prompt attention. It seems only your dear brother or myself were available for the task.

"I refused, of course. I have far more pressing things to be doing than shuttling a scientist from lab to lab, regardless of the skill of said scientist. Quite impressive, by the way," he said, as he waved some of her notes in her direction. She snatched them angrily from his hands, and he smirked again.

"However, it was then that Lupin insisted it would be quite impossible for him to do the task, even though there little else he can do to be of use. When pressed for his reasons, he came clean as to your relationship.

"It is quite remarkable to me, the number of secrets and lies this most 'honest' of the Fabulous Four seems to have hidden from that rather distasteful period of his life," he said with a sneer, before returning to the topic at hand.

"He seemed to think you would not agree to speak with him—"

She interrupted, "He was right!'

"Well, then, here we are," he said, spreading his long-fingered hands to sweep the space in front of him in emphasis. "I believe that you will think better of your brother's company after some experience with mine."

"I highly doubt it. I would rather face honest sarcasm than Remus' brand of friendly deceit," she replied, stiffly. It was infuriating how, even though he was sitting and she standing, he could still make her feel that he was looking down on her.

His brows raised in surprise as he replied in his smoothest, silkiest voice, "Do not assume honesty from me, Miss Lupin. That would be a grave error on your part. I am a Slytherin, after all. I hold no loyalty but to myself. Consider it a bit of friendly advice."

She actually smiled at him then, which briefly transformed her seemingly ordinary appearance into something surprisingly pretty. He betrayed no outward change of emotion, but he again felt struck forcibly by… something—and again savagely suppressed the sensation.

"Why, Professor Snape, do you realise that's the second bit of 'friendly advice' you've bestowed upon me in my lifetime?" she asked with a teasing lilt in her voice. "The other was on my first train ride to Hogwarts. You should be more selective in doling out your gems. It might be enough to go to a girl's head.

"You'll have to forgive me, however, if I choose to ignore this bit. I don't base my trust in a person on what House they belonged to at school."

He gazed at her implacably for a moment, carefully concealing his surprise that she would remember that conversation on the train all those years ago. Annoyingly, he was equally astonished to find that he could remember the incident quite clearly himself, once reminded of it.

The recollection bore no further rumination. He had already wasted enough time in useless banter.

"As you wish, Miss Lupin. You are quite correct; I should use more discretion in my rare moments of friendliness. As should you, in whom you bestow your trust."

He stood then and gestured towards the lab door. His voice was bored and indifferent. "Now, it is getting late. The Headmaster does not want you to travel alone. Do you wish an escort to your home, and then see the lab tomorrow? Or would you prefer to come to Hogwarts tonight?"

She looked at him for a moment as though at a loss, and then at her papers and unfinished equations. She shrugged. "I wasn't getting anywhere with my research right now, anyway. Give me a moment to clear off and ward the lab, won't you?"

He gave a silent nod of assent and stepped to the door.

With an agitated wave of her wand, she gathered all the parchment rolls into a neat bundle and sealed them in her desk. She grabbed her bag and removed the hair tie holding her plait. In a few deft movements, the long mass was free, and she massaged her scalp vigorously for a moment, as though having it constrained had been uncomfortable.

She then stopped at several drawers and cabinets, tapping each with her wand along the way, before finally stepping out into the corridor. He followed her silently, the look of sardonic amusement again upon his face, and waited while she locked and warded the lab door.

"All right, then," she said, glancing at her watch, "it's not that late. If it's not too inconvenient, may I see the lab at Hogwarts before I go home for the night?"

He gave a small, ironic bow. "The inconvenience is minor, I assure you, Miss Lupin. The Headmaster commanded, and so here I am. Apparate to the Three Broomsticks, and wait for me there. I will escort you the rest of the way to the school."

She nodded, and with a loud 'crack' was gone. He waited only a moment after, examining the disturbance of his own thoughts. This Lupin was certainly not like the other. Without allowing himself to dwell on the subject, he followed her.

Rowena stood anxiously outside the Three Broomsticks. The evening was warm and clear, but the sky was darkening toward dusk, the setting sun leaving the sky a riot of crimson and violet hues. It was hard for her to enjoy the aesthetics of the view, however, when the dim lighting left Hogsmeade cloaked in mysterious shadows, familiar shapes becoming sinister in the distortion.

Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. She had not dreamt that a hastily scrawled note to the Headmaster would bring her face to face with Severus Snape. She wished she had more time to examine her feelings over the issue.

She was not so irrational as to imagine a teenaged crush, grown into an adulthood fascination (admittedly bordering on obsession), was in any way akin to love. Yet, she still felt as though something about him spoke to something inside of her in a primitive language that she couldn't begin to understand.

The loud sound of Apparation rent the late evening stillness, and he was immediately beside her. She hadn't realised she was trembling—she greatly disliked being alone in public places in the dark—until the sound of his arrival, followed by his deep voice, made her jump.

"We do not have all night, Miss Lupin. Hogwarts is this way, if you have forgotten?" The words were sarcastic, but the tone was almost teasing.

"No, Professor, I had not forgotten. I believe you instructed me to wait for you?" she said archly, concealing her trembling by crossing her arms, as though for warmth.

He snorted at this, amused at her apparent willingness to spar with him. "Since when does anyone do as I instruct? If I could manage this with my students, perhaps teaching would not be quite so odious."

She laughed lightly, more a soft chuckle under her breath. "If teaching annoys you so much, why do it?"

"Research," he said shortly. How could she understand what it was like for him? Who besides Dumbledore would even trust a former Death Eater, let alone give one a job? His 'former' status was not well known, but any background check would reveal the Death Eater ties. Besides, he and Albus had taken pains over the years to assure that those few remaining, secretively active Death Eaters still believed him to be 'in the fold'.

He expected her to question further, but she merely looked at him askance for a moment and nodded. The rest of the walk was silent until they reached the castle. She stopped briefly at the front doors and looked at it, almost wistfully.

"Longing for lost school days, Miss Lupin? I would not have suspected you to be guilty of sentimentality. The child I remember seemed quite rational," he said.

She grinned and shook her head vigorously. "No, I wouldn't return to my school days for anything. But I did enjoy the castle. I'm afraid my rationality hasn't completely overcome all sentimentality. I do hold some claims to occasional bursts of pure emotion. I merely work harder to suppress it than most."

He nodded seriously. "I suppose that is the best that can be hoped for. The empty labs, of which you are to have freedom of choice, are in the dungeons. You will have to forgive the location, but of course the classrooms and living areas have claim to the prime locations. Follow me."

She didn't mind the labs being in the dungeons. Most ingredients kept better in cool environments, and many experiments could be quite explosive. Being surrounded by thick, heavy layers of inert stone often prevented buildings from being burnt down. She noticed his name on several of the doors as they walked down the corridor, and wondered at the wisdom of having a second lab so close to this enigmatic man.

Not far from the last door with his name was a series of blank doors. He walked along these, throwing them open with a wave of his wand, lighting the torches and candles as he went. "They are nearly identical in size, but the arrangements of cabinets, shelves, and other storage facilities vary from room to room. None of these are in use. Choose one."

She looked in them all, contemplatively. Opening drawers, cupboard doors, examining shelves—one room was useless to her, as all the shelves were much too tall. He watched silently and offered no comments.

"What exactly am I permitted to research here?" she asked, beginning a second, more thorough inspection of a room she found particularly agreeable.

"Whatever you like. Dumbledore has connections, and will likely be bringing requests to you, but he will place no restrictions on your work."

"What supplies will be provided for me, and what do I need to bring myself?"

Severus leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed lazily over his chest, and observed her with a look of boredom.

"Dumbledore will provide you with whatever you need to complete any projects he requests of you, as well as any basic supplies you might need for independent research. I would assume, however, that the more exotic things would need to be obtained yourself."

She nodded, still not looking at him, as she continued to move about the room.

"I make extensive use of lab animals. Will I be allowed to house them here? Will the house-elves tend them if I am away for a few days?" She was looking at a bank of shelves along one wall, which would be quite suitable for small cages.

"Yes, to both. So long as you don't intend to keep dragons down here—for those, you would need to see Hagrid." He actually smirked at this, and she caught his eye and smiled again.

"I'm sorry. I'm bombarding you with questions. I should just tell you how grateful I am, and leave it at that. I've never had this much space to work with, or been given free rein with my research at the Ministry. The thought that I can do it here almost makes me giddy."

"Understood. I would be surprised if you had no questions," he said with a small nod.

"Am I allowed to seal my lab? I don't allow anyone into my work or notes, at least not while they're in progress. If I can't secure them here, I'll just take things home every day."

"No, no, that will not be necessary. You are allowed to seal it however you wish. However, I will warn you that the school is home to countless miscreants who are determined to break any enchantment they find. You will do well to alternate your wards and locks frequently."

She nodded again in understanding, and moved to a door on the back wall of the lab near a cabinet, which was locked. "Of course. I always modify my wards. Where does this door go?"

"My lab," he said, amused to see her jerk her hand away as though burnt. "I will be most displeased if I find you have intruded there, though I have little doubt you could eventually get through the enchantments. I do not pretend to have your expertise in that particular area."

"I wouldn't dream of violating your lab, Professor," Rowena said, clearly horrified at the very idea. "Perhaps I should choose another room. I didn't realise they were connected."

Severus shrugged. "I am not concerned. You are not a Slytherin, and therefore I will trust you, at least in this. I'm sure your scientific code of honour will keep you out. As for finding another lab, my lab has a communicating door with all the other rooms in this dungeon. That is why I chose it. I like to be in control. Do not make your choice based on that."

"All right then," she said, dusting her hands against her robes. "I'll use this one."

He threw her a small disk-like object, which she only just managed to catch.

"That is a Portkey. The Ministry authorises a select few of them for use by Hogwarts faculty and staff. You will need to set it for two locations, likely your home and this lab, and set the code words. It will then transport you with the word, to either of those two locations. No one can use it without your words, so change them often and do not lose it.

"Now, I will step out so you can attune it to this place. I will then escort you to your residence, where you can set it there. After that, I believe you will have no further need of my assistance at present." Without waiting for her reply, he stepped out into the corridor.

She joined him there a few moments later, the disk safely in her pocket, and he instantly began walking back towards the Entrance Hall and out into the night. His brisk pace was difficult for her to match, so he was forced to decrease his stride slightly to accommodate her.

Once in Hogsmeade, he turned to her, and asked, "Apparation directions to your home, Miss Lupin?"

She had been so lost in her thoughts as they walked that she hadn't realised they were already in Hogsmeade. "Oh, of course. I have a flat in Muggle London. We can't Apparate inside — I have it protected — so we will arrive at the door…." She gave him the precise directions, and with the standard 'crack' of Apparation, she was gone, and he was with her in a moment.

He arrived in a brightly lit if somewhat worn and dingy corridor, facing a very solid-appearing wooden door with a small round lens of some sort in the center, at approximately eye-level. From what he could detect from casual inspection, she seemed to have some sort of mild Muggle-repelling enchantments on this portion of the corridor. Muggles living in the building likely did not even realise there was a door here, and doubtlessly had never seen their neighbour come and go.

It suddenly occurred to him that he was now completely out of his element. The Ministry and her lab were neutral territory, and in the case of Hogwarts, his own. Now, however, he was firmly in hers, and it was not a comfortable feeling. It was impossible for him to recall any time he had engaged in any sort of social interaction that had no ulterior motive, whether posturing among fellow Death Eaters, or attempting to maintain that position now in his more dangerous role as a spy.

He looked at her as she surreptitiously used her wand from inside her sleeve, removing numerous wards and enchantments. She looked pale and frightened. Actually, upon closer examination, she looked positively terrified.

Now this was familiar ground. He had been a Death Eater, after all. Indeed, in his own mind, he still considered himself to be a Death Eater, albeit a traitorous one. The only 'former' Death Eaters were the dead ones. He had spent the years after the Dark Lord's fall maintaining, even fostering, his reputation for viciousness and cruelty to maintain his cover. Having people—particularly young women alone with him—be afraid of him was no unusual thing. What was unusual was that he found her fear annoying. But her fear did not seem to stem from him—she was wholly focused on opening the door to her flat.

"Miss Lupin, I will leave you now. If you have need of anything, contact Dumbledore at Hogwarts. Or myself," he said, and then stepped back slightly in preparation to Apparate away.

She turned to look at him with such a look of barely concealed panic that he paused. Her voice was tremulous when she asked, "Professor, would you mind terribly coming inside a moment… just until I've checked the flat?"

He raised an eyebrow at the request, but inclined his head. Was she actually asking him to accompany her—for safety? That was a twist!

Silently, he followed her into the flat, which was brightly lighted even though empty. She shut the door behind him and sealed it quickly, then waved her hand at the seating area near the fireplace and said vaguely, "Please, make yourself at home if you like, I won't be a minute."

She then took a deep breath, as though steeling herself to battle dragons, and proceeded to search her flat from top to bottom, opening every cupboard and wardrobe, every door, looking behind the shower curtain, under the bed, and checking her seals and wards on her windows.

Severus observed her silently, as he looked about the flat. It was small, but comfortable. A small fireplace sat between two large windows on one wall, surrounded by bookshelves filled with a wide variety of books. In front of the fireplace was a seating group, which included a sofa, two chairs and a coffee table. A handsome wizards chess set sat in place of honour on the coffee table.

Over the mantelpiece of the fireplace was an enormous, very artistic photograph of the Hogwarts grounds. The colours and view that had been captured were remarkable. The sunset over the mountains, oblique to the castle, caused the riotously painted sky to reflect its brilliant colours off the surface of the lake. The castle, the clouds and the mountains were all brushed in amazing Technicolor of violets, pinks, and fiery golds. Nearly everyone's favourite beech tree, next to the lake, was gracefully standing full in the center of the photo. It was a wizarding photo, so the breeze rippled across the lawn and water, causing the tree branches to wave gently. It was remarkable in its artistry.

And then he noticed it. He wouldn't have seen it if it hadn't moved at just that moment. Nearly obscured behind the tree was a person, sitting at the base of it, a book propped across his knees as he leant back against the enormous trunk. This figure had just turned a page in his book, catching Severus' attention.

It was a teenaged boy—more specifically, it was himself, as a boy. The profile was unmistakable. There could not be two such noses in the world!

The boy was such a small portion of the photo that it was quite possible that he was there accidentally. Perhaps the photographer had found the picturesque tableau of the scene compelling, and either had not noticed the boy, or had not wanted to waste the moment and possibly lose the colours by waiting for him to move, or asking him to leave.

Still, in light of what the other Lupin and Dumbledore had said today, it awoke his suspicions. He had never fancied himself the object of any genuine female interest, and it was a curious sensation. It was not altogether unpleasant, but it roused a deeper level of mistrust within him. She was scary, this Lupin.

The rest of her flat, which he could see from where he stood near the fireplace, was feminine, but without the perfusion of lace, flowers and stuffed animals or whatnot, which he imagined to decorate the average single woman's home. The wall opposite the fireplace and windows contained her cupboards and kitchen area.

The only thing dividing the seating area and kitchen was that the latter was lino, while the living area had a deep, warm cream coloured carpet. Opposite the door that exited the flat was a small hallway, leading to a small bathroom on one side, and what he presumed would be an equally small bedroom on the other.

He was standing near the window when she returned from this odd search of her flat. She was still pale, but now looked more collected, as well as a bit embarrassed. However, she set her chin at a defiant angle, as though daring him to ridicule her.

"Thank you," she said. "Chasing demons, you know? It sort of helps me feel like I can control the fear. I appreciate that you came inside… I do feel safer when I'm not alone."

She turned away from him to the kitchenette. "It's not quite eight; I think perhaps you gave up your supper to come and see me? May I offer you tea or something before you leave?"

Curiouser and curiouser! Was this normal etiquette to offer someone refreshment in this situation? Or was she indulging in some childhood fancy? And she felt safe? With him? Still, he couldn't quite overcome his own curiosity enough to make himself leave—though part of him felt he had never been in a more dangerous place in his life. He inclined his head slightly.

"Tea, then."

She offered a small smile of assent and quickly set to work. Many of her cupboards were too tall for her, so she summoned the necessary items with her wand. In short order she had brought them both hot tea and biscuits. He was quite taken aback by her apparent domesticity, but by her ease and obviously decreasing embarrassment, he assumed this must be an accepted ritual.

He sat in one of the chairs and she took the one opposite, placing the tray on the table between them, next to the chess set. Once seated, her nervousness seemed to return in full measure, as he heard the tell-tale rattle of her teapot against the rim of the cup. She poured the tea and passed a cup to him before taking her own.

Now she did seem uncomfortable. He even smirked inwardly when she glanced nervously at the picture on the wall. He decided to attempt to rattle her further and see how she would handle herself.

With a deceptively casual voice, he asked, "Who is the artistic photographer?"

He was pleased to see her quickly avert her gaze to her teacup, sipping the hot liquid to buy time to compose her thoughts. He was perversely pleased that he had succeeded in ruffling her.

"I took that photo, in my third year," she said, without elaborating. But this time she met his eyes, and again there was that flash of defiance.

The inscrutable expression did not change, but Severus applauded her silently. He hadn't expected her to answer so directly. She had spirit, this Lupin, which was something he always thought the other Lupin sorely lacked.

"And am I in it deliberately or accidentally?" he challenged.

Leaning back into her chair, she looked at him appraisingly. Her mind, though, was closed, in spite of his skill in Legilimency. He wouldn't actually cast the spell on her, not now, without a good reason. But usually he could tell much more of surface thoughts when someone met his gaze so fully, as he had practised the skill intently for years. She was apparently a reasonably accomplished Occlumens. He made mental note not to underestimate this Lupin and peered back at her, waiting.

She gave a mischievous grin, then—which reminded him forcibly and unpleasantly of her brother—and said in a tone of mock innocence, "Oh, are you in that picture, Professor Snape? I had no idea. Are you quite certain?"

And then in a more serious, yet somehow no less teasing tone of voice, she said, "I had not expected you to ask questions to which you already know the answer, Professor. I suppose my brother told you why I would be more willing to see you than him?"

He had expected her to make excuses and denials. Her relaxed honesty, such as it was, disarmed him. In spite of the similarity in appearance, she seemed to be of very different temperament than her brother.

"Perhaps I ought to rephrase the question," he said dryly, refusing to let her get off without answering it. "Why, Miss Lupin, am I in that photo?"

She returned her cup to the table and regarded him more seriously still. All hint of playfulness was gone. "Don't ask questions that you won't like the answer to, Professor Snape. It's most unwise."

"I don't care for secrets or mysteries, Miss Lupin," he said, not entirely honestly. He liked secrets very much—when they were of his own devising and control. "Either can be dangerous. I would not ask if I were not fully prepared to hear the answer."

She shrugged then, but he noticed she took care to look away, and would not meet his gaze directly. Apparently, she wasn't as confident in her Occlumency as she had seemed.

"All right, then. I had a fascination for you from the moment I set eyes on you, on the train, in my first year. That photo is a remnant of a teenaged crush. I took it during your seventh year at Hogwarts, when I thought I would never see you again."

Severus raised a brow at her, doubtingly. She'd had four more years of Hogwarts after he had left; she could easily have taken another photo without his presence in it. There was a reason for that picture to have such a place of honour on her wall. He determined to learn it.

He smirked at her. "Partial truths, Miss Lupin? You might have done well in Slytherin. Very well, I will let that pass for now. No one has a 'crush' on a face like this, I assure you."

Rowena shook her head, and he thought he could detect a faint blush. "You misunderstand me. I didn't mean to imply that I still… it's just, I like the photo—the figure of the boy is necessary to give the photo its meaning, don't you see?"

"Its 'meaning'?" he asked in disbelief.

"Of course. Look at it. It's beautiful. Hogwarts at sunset was always my favourite time. No artist with a paintbrush could ever fully capture that amazing variety of colour. The lake looks like rippling glass, reflecting the beauty all around.

"And here sits the boy," she said, rising from her seat to point unnecessarily at the figure. He was like a tiny black stain on a landscaped painting, a harsh contrast to his surroundings.

"He's such a small portion of the scene, isn't he? Dark and lonely and isolated, completely oblivious to the beauty which surrounds him... and completely unable to see that he is an integral part of that beauty. Without him in the picture, it would just be any nice landscape photo... there would be no contrast... no emotion... no soul."

She stopped talking suddenly, embarrassed that she had allowed herself to get carried away, rambling nonsense in her nervousness.

"Anyway, I like it, so I've kept it, even though the reason I originally took it really doesn't apply anymore," she said, returning to her chair and curling her feet under her. She still determinedly avoided his gaze. "Most people don't even notice the boy."

Her apparent ease, with which she brushed off her 'original reason' for taking the photo, surprised him. Dumbledore, and even Lupin, had implied that they thought her interest in him would have faded over the years. Yet something in Remus' behaviour had alerted Severus to his concern that it hadn't—at least not enough for brotherly satisfaction. Her manner now suggested that she at least wished Severus to believe the fascination was gone.

With annoyance, he found himself to be somewhat disappointed, which he quickly suppressed. What rational woman would carry a childhood fancy this far into adulthood? Especially without seeing the object of her fascination in all that time? If she had ever truly had such sentiments for him to begin with, which still seemed rather unlikely—the evidence of the enlarged photograph notwithstanding.

He felt she had not told him the whole tale of the picture. On one hand, the boy was necessary to give the photo it's 'meaning'; yet she wanted him to believe that most people didn't notice him? It was a blatant contradiction.

He would have liked to leave then. Already something about this woman had caused him to be more communicative than was his wont, and he found himself disturbingly curious about her. That was not something to be encouraged. There was no room in his life for this sort of curiosity, especially now, with war escalating by the moment.

However, even he knew it would be in poor taste to leave so abruptly after being served tea, so he sipped at the hot liquid and tried to squash the sensation. It would not be quelled, however, and she did not seem inclined to start a new subject of conversation. At last he broke the silence again himself.

"Another question, then. Why are you so frightened of your own flat?" he asked, thinking of her odd behaviour when they first entered.

She paled then, and he thought he detected a shudder pass through her slight frame. "I'm terrified because I've never completely gotten over the assault by Warrington. What you see is as dark as this flat ever gets, and I never come home without searching every nook and cranny. I can't force myself not to be afraid, but I can force myself to face the fear head-on. And so I do, every time I enter this flat alone."

"Then why not get a roommate?" he asked, as though the solution was obvious and she was being obtuse not to see it.

"Because I don't really trust anyone," she said with a painful smile. "Remus is my brother, as you've recently learned. What you don't know is that at one time I was closer to him than to life itself. I can't begin to describe how much I adored him. But he shattered my trust in a way that I can't possibly explain, and I've had difficulty trusting anyone since."

She smiled sheepishly. "Which is more than you wanted to know about why I live alone…."

He waved a hand dismissively. "It seems to me women rarely have short answers to simple questions, and that was not a simple question. I had forgotten about Warrington. It was careless of me to forget. I should not have broached such an unpleasant subject."

Which was as close as Severus had ever gotten to an apology.

He gestured to the chess set on the table, anxious for a diversion away from the realm of personal conversation, yet uncharacteristically reluctant to leave. "Is this decoration, Miss Lupin, or do you actually play?"

She met his eyes with a challenge and nodded. "I play, Professor."

"Shall we, then?" he asked, his tone supremely unconcerned.

"Very well. But I should warn you not to play against me if being defeated by a woman would irritate you, as I'm a fairly decent player. You also won't want to pay any attention to anything these pieces say. I've never lost with this particular set, so they're rather partial to me, and tend to heckle my opponent," she answered, grinning.

Her smile lightened the atmosphere, and he was glad she was willing to let the heavier subjects drop. He inclined his head. "Noted. However, there is a first time for everything. Perhaps tonight you will be defeated with your prized set.

"It is poor strategy to warn your opponent of your strengths before a game, Miss Lupin. To ensure a fair game, allow me to offer warnings of my own. Being defeated by anyone annoys me. I never lose, except to Albus Dumbledore, unless I have made an error in judgement. I do not like to make errors.

"I will be the gentleman and allow you to be white, you start."

For the next three hours they played an intense game, neither giving an inch, the strategy cautious and testing on both sides. Severus even relaxed somewhat, and his face was not so lined. He occasionally gave a soft exclamation, "Aha," when he would execute a particularly challenging set of moves or take a valuable piece. But Rowena was also confident and attentive.

She was staring at the board, contemplating her next move—each of them had barely a handful of pieces remaining. She was pleased, as she felt she would have the checkmate within six moves. However, as she reached for her knight, she checked herself and looked again at the arrangement of the pieces. Looking up from the board to Severus, she smiled in surprise. She would win in six moves, if it were not for the fact that he would win in four!

"Congratulations, Professor. You've won. It will take a long time for my pieces to forgive me this defeat," she said, grinning broadly now and falling backwards into her chair.

"It was a surprisingly good game, Miss Lupin. I am by no means confident that I could defeat you routinely. I would be willing to play again another time."

With that he stood up and moved to the door. "It is late. I'm sure Albus will be in contact with you again to finalise arrangements. Maintain your vigilance of distrust, Miss Lupin."

She stood and nodded, still smiling softly. "My Apparition barrier is only one-way, Professor. You may Apparate out, though no one may Apparate in. I suppose I will be seeing you sometimes at Hogwarts?"

"A one-way Apparation barrier? Interesting. Yes, I'm certain we will meet again. Good evening."

And with a loud 'crack', he was gone. It was a long time before Rowena slept. Her mind was full of the night's events and the man who had stepped back into her life as abruptly as he had left it twenty years before.