Fanfiction based in the world of Harry Potter, created by JKR. Her characters are hers. Original characters are mine. No pecuniary rewards. Please see first chapter for full disclaimers and description.

Thank you to my Betas, Elaine and JL, aka Kirasha who have both stepped up the to the challenge marvelously as I scramble to finish this before HBP! Any remaining errors or mistakes are my own—please feel free to point them out!

I do not own the musical piece mentioned in the fic, credit is given to the appropriate artists and no copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 47: Summer Holidays

Rowena quickly settled into a routine at 12 Grimmauld Place. She and Katrina would spend the better part of the morning cooking and baking. When Katrina napped, Rowena would work with Harry on Occlumency if he was around, or preserve, transfigure and ward the morning's work if he was off with the Weasleys.

On the third day of this after sending Dumbledore the first fruits of her labors, Dumbledore himself turned up, with company.

"Rowena, I thought I might find you hard at work here," he said, blue eyes twinkling from within his still too-tired face. "I thought I might lighten your load a bit and give these fine fellows something more productive to do. They are pining for Severus and it seems a cruelty not to let them do something to help."

Three nearly identical house elves blinked enormous yellow eyes at her. They were all wearing the Hogwarts tea towel, but there was an air of something like haughtiness about them that Rowena had never seen in a house elf before—let alone THREE of them.

"Allow me to make introductions," Albus said, beaming. "This is Joseph, Henry, and Antoine. They are Severus' house elves. They came with him when he returned to Hogwarts to teach. I believe they originated with his mother's family. They are brothers."

Each elf bowed in turn at the mention of his name, while Rowena looked on in astonishment.

"Those are unusual names for house elves," she said at last. "I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Rowena."

"We knows that," said the first one, Joseph, in a squeaky voice that nonetheless sounded disdainful. "Master Sevvie is giving us our nameses. We is named after famous Wizard Potions Masters, we is."

"You is not right to be cooking for our Master," said Henry, almost accusingly. "You is not knowing what he likes."

"Master says wrong seasoning will spoil the palate," said Antoine… and this little elf looked positively angry. "Bad seasoning makes Master not able to taste his ingredients for his Potions."

"Now, now, Rowena was just trying to be helpful," Dumbledore said gently. Three pairs of ears drooped slightly at the chiding, though the large yellow eyes still regarded her with suspicion bordering on dislike. Albus beamed at Rowena and made an attempt to explain.

"When Severus came to Hogwarts to teach, they came with him. They have worked at Hogwarts since, but they still 'belong' to him. He keeps them very secret, obviously. I'm sure he would rather Remus and Tonks not know of them, though I believe they have all met Katrina.

"They are the only elves allowed in his private chambers or to prepare his meals. They would like to assist you in your current endeavor. They are utterly loyal to Severus; you need not fear their motives. They will alternate between helping here and tending his quarters at the school."

Albus spoke as though asking permission, but the very determined expressions on the elves' faces told her that she had very little choice.

"Master Sevvie is fretting about his Katie," said Joseph again. "He is not thinking we is knowing, but we has known Master since he was a baby. We knows when Master is fretting. We is helping here with the little girl, with his Katie. Then Master isn't worrying."

"Oh, dear," Rowena said with a helpless laugh. It took her a moment to realize that 'Katie' was Katrina. "I'll be glad for you to teach me what he likes to eat, but I don't own this house. Katrina's being adopted by Remus and Tonks, I'd have to ask their permission for you to be involved with her."

"Agreed," said Joseph, who seemed to be the primary spokesperson for the three. "But we is not to be meeting Remie and Tonks, they is not to be seeing us. Henry is going back with the Headmaster today. Antoine is staying with Joseph. We is fixing proper food for Master Sevvie. You is permitted to watch."

Somehow it wasn't all that surprising, once she got over the initial shock, that Severus should be the owner of perhaps the only bossy, haughty house elves in existence. Still, she couldn't think of a better way to actually learn what sorts of food he liked. Katrina recognized them at once, and they were much nicer to her than to Rowena, almost playful.

Occlumency with Harry was extremely sporadic, both in frequency and in quality. The physical ache of the severed Bond returned in full measure and seemed to be more uncomfortable every day. It was distracting and made sleep restless and disturbed—though that might also have been from the unpleasant dreams. It was hard for her to concentrate and while she had once told Harry that she used her emotions, particularly love, as her Occlumency shield, that technique was not nearly so effective now that her emotions were so distorted.

There was almost a reversal of roles, as in many ways Harry became the teacher and she the student. After Harry had mastered her way of shielding his mind, he felt more confident to attempt other techniques. Whether it was Dumbledore who taught him to calm his emotions, or whether he was finally learning the skill from observation and proximity to Severus, he didn't say. However, that was the technique vital for his observational forays into the Dark Lord's mind, and so that was the one he now used and attempted to teach her.

Unfortunately, Harry was also fatigued and weaker than he had been at the start of the summer. Even with his improved Occlumency skill, the Dark Lord was battering almost constantly at HIS shields so that Harry had nearly constant headaches. His scar always appeared red and inflamed, and she was once again breaking through his shields with her Legilimency on a fairly regular basis. Harry insisted this was because she was getting stronger, but she was sure he just didn't want her to fret over his increasing weakness.

It was during one of these 'breaks' that she saw the disturbing memory-image of Severus and Harry in Severus' lab. Severus had a long knife in his hand, and stabbed through Harry's wrist, holding the cut over a large flask, collecting the dark and spurting blood. Both of them looked calm and impassive, and she was certain that this was a real memory. By their casual air, it seemed to be an event that had occurred on more than one occasion.

"Harry!" she exclaimed as she lifted her wand in shock. "What was that about?"

She got up from her chair and went to where he was sitting, grabbing his hand in hers before he could pull away. There, barely noticeable unless one knew what to look for, was a very thin, white line—a magically healed scar from the cut she had just seen.

Harry avoided her gaze and pulled his arm away with a shrug. Snape had given him explicit instructions not to discuss Voldemort's potion with ANYONE, and he was certain that Rowena counted as 'anyone'. It only took a minute for him to come up with an appropriate lie. He desperately hoped she'd believe it.

"It's for the potion that the Death Eaters were making from Katrina's blood," he said casually. "We've been helping him all year, Ron, Fred, George and I. We take turns 'donating', he gives us a blood replenisher afterward, and that way he can keep making it."

"Oh my goodness," she gasped, sitting heavily back into her chair, rubbing tiredly at her temples. "He was using his own blood at first, though, wasn't he?

"That's why he was missing so much blood at the fire, when he rescued Katrina. I wondered about that and then forgot all about it. He seemed to get better, and I just forgot. There was another time, too, though…"

She trailed off, remembering the day of the Malfoy's 'dinner' before the start of term, when he had been so pale, the first time he had brought Narcissa the potions. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, I sort of… accidentally saw what he was doing." He shrugged sheepishly under her accusatory stare. "Okay, it wasn't so accidental; I was snooping. When I knew what he was doing, I told Ron and Hermione, and we confronted him. Anyway, it turned out to be a good thing in the end because otherwise he might have got really sick trying to do it all by himself."

"Somehow I doubt Professor Snape considers any snooping you've done to be a 'good thing', Harry," she said firmly, shaking her head. "I don't know how you survived his temper over that one."

Harry grinned and shrugged again.

"Well, I almost didn't… but I had everyone with me, Hermione and Ginny too. That's when Hermione started helping him with the medical supply potions—to help make the Blood Replenisher without Pomfrey getting suspicious. I sort of hinted that I'd tell you what was going on if he didn't let us help and so we… er… worked things out."

"And he says I ought to have been in Slytherin!" she exclaimed.

The explanation satisfied her, even though in this case it was not the truth. It did fill in some 'missing pieces' from months before and she had no reason to think that his blood might be needed for anything else.

In this way, four weeks of the summer Holiday were soon gone. Severus' house elves were very like him—brisk, efficient, no-nonsense, and yet capable of displays of tenderness once she got to know them. They were very fond of Katrina already and frequently plied the child with far more sweets than Severus would have approved of. They also were quick to point out what Rowena had done 'wrong' with her first sending.

"Master is not liking mustard," said Antoine loftily. "Master says heavy seasonings are for hiding bad food. You is not making bad food; you is not needing mustard."

Henry had different suggestions.

"You is sending too much sweets. Master is not liking sweets so much. Sweets is to be enjoyed in small bits to make them more special. Master isn't liking everything chocolate. Needs tangy sweets, bitter things, like lemon tarts."

Joseph surveyed it all in silence, though he inspected everything thoroughly with an expression remarkably like Severus at his most critical, considering the creature was barely taller than Katrina and had such huge eyes.

"Master is liking you," he said as he watched her transfigure the foodstuffs into vials—after allowing the elf to give final approval. "I is thinking that he is not minding you sends him the chocolates so much. I is thinking you is able to learn to take care of him right."

This, from the quiet little elf was high praise indeed!

She sent the case to Albus through her brother again, not being able to find time to leave the house while she needed to mind Katrina, and not wanting to miss the exchange. She was exceedingly disappointed, as she had hoped to see him even for an instant, in spite of his admonishments to the contrary with his letter. The wireless cube was her only source of comfort, and she listened to it every day—usually many times a day, and often moped about for a good while afterward.

The Saturday after the exchange found Remus and Tonks both at home. Instead of intruding on their rare family time together, she used that time to stay at Hogwarts with the intent to actually do some research in her own lab, rather than toting about files of notes to Number 12 every day. She lazed about in her quarters for much of the morning before finally having a late breakfast and heading to her lab.

On her desk, with her usual writing supplies, she found an inkwell that was not familiar. She resisted the urge to scoop it up at once, in the hopes that it was from Severus—between he and Moody, one or the other would skin her alive if they heard she'd been so incautious. She managed to go through the appropriate detection spells before determining that it wasn't a Portkey, booby-trapped, poisoned, or anything else obviously dangerous.

It was, however, not as it appeared, and at last she picked it up. With a small 'pop' it became a sheet of parchment, as she had hoped, containing a message from Severus.

Rowena,

It is unnecessary to seek to acquire something that is already yours, such as it is.

Albus tells me you have met Joseph, Henry, and Antoine. I ought to have introduced you sooner. I have no recollection of their original names; they might have been Flopsy, Mopsy and Cotton-tail for all I know. My mother and I renamed them when I was very young. It is a tale I would like to share with you, if I get out of this hell.

I had forgotten how truly heinous this could be, to attempt to reside within this madness.

Do not let Joseph harass you over the chocolate… or the mustard. Here, it is pleasant to be reminded that there is such richness of flavor elsewhere.

The food sustains my body. Knowing that it is you who has prepared and sent it sustains my sanity. Obviously I have neither the time nor inclination to take such measures myself. It is a welcome change from past trials.

There is one other thing I must ask you to do for me. No, I implore you to do for me. Do not leave your brother's house or Hogwarts without Auror guard—preferably several. Do not leave at all unless it is absolutely unavoidable. Do not allow Katrina out of your sight, even for an instant. I need to be certain of your safety, and hers, and it is impossible for me to verify from here.

Yours,

S.

She smiled, at first, as she read the letter, remembering her comment about 'the way to a man's heart'and his 'answer' to it. The smile faded to a worried frown and she chewed her lower lip as she finished the note. She knew, from what she had seen with Harry, that he was going through a difficult time—but even then she only saw brief glimpses, never more than a few minutes at a time a few times a week. She couldn't imagine what it was really like.

This time, when the note disappeared, there was no sappy love song to listen to and weep over. The gloomy sense of despair, fear, and hopelessness in the note made research impossible. She went back to her quarters to do what she had promised herself she would not do… mope.

It was hard to say where the connection broke first, Rowena from Harry, or Harry from Voldemort. Harry ran from the room and she could hear him heaving in the loo. She just made it to the dustbin in the corner herself before losing the contents of her stomach as well.

Voldemort… his capacity for cruelty seemed boundless. His capacity to know precisely what would be the most horrific for any given 'victim' infinite.

He had Lucius bring him a small goat. A GOAT! Transfiguration was most easily done when the two items were of relatively the same size and weight. Lucius, being the one among the Death Eaters who had seen her the most, then transfigured the animal to a very good likeness of Katrina. It could not speak, of course—it had the mind of an animal.

That hardly mattered when it was screaming.

Lucius carried the 'child' into the room, struggling in his arms, and strapped her to the heavy rings on one of the tables. Severus worked in the corner on the potion, though to Rowena's knowing gaze she saw the rigid mask settle even more firmly over his features, even as he raised a sardonic brow at Lucius.

"Is this how you hone your skills these days, Lucius, on Mudblood infants? How the mighty have fallen," he said dryly.

Lucius merely grinned savagely, but barely spared a glance in Severus' direction, being too busy looking over a large case of knives and instruments of torture. Severus had his wand in hand, ostensibly prodding at the cauldron flames, apparently utterly bored with the other goings-on in the room.

Voldemort's attention was fixed on the Potions Master. The goat-child made odd, garbled noises through the human mouth, but nothing at all intelligible. Bellatrix swept into the room unmasked, and fell at the Dark Lord's feet in noisy, adoring obeisance that drew his attention downward for an instant before he turned it back to Severus. By then, Severus' wand was no longer visible and he was carefully stirring the cauldron, apparently counting strokes.

Two other masked and cloaked Death Eaters entered the room and quickly selected knives as well, laughing wickedly as though preparing for a garish feast. In an instant the goat-child's screams began to fill the room and Voldemort's mind became awash in sadistic ecstasy from the scent of blood and fear. His primary attention remained focused upon Severus, his thoughts amused and suspicious, gauging the inscrutable man's reactions.

That was when Harry and Rowena broke contact, both violently ill.

When she could stand she ran up the stairs, two at a time, all the way to the third floor bedroom. It had the largest 'windows' which still let in sunlight and fresh air even in spite of the Fidelius Charm. Katrina was blissfully napping in the lavender lace bedding, baby Sophie tucked under one arm.

Rowena collapsed in a heap next to the bed and sobbed in relief and misery. Harry arrived soon after and sat next to her, his head on his knees, still trembling. Katrina, when she woke from her nap, was delighted to have them right there and cheerfully submitted to hours of stories, as Rowena couldn't bear to let her go. She was so distraught that when Remus came home, she asked if she could stay the night in one of the spare rooms and was granted permission at once.

Now she understood why Severus' last note had been so desperate in its insistence that she make sure Katrina remained hidden and safe.

"Severus! Good lord, man, what are you doing here? It's after one in the morning," Remus said, startled as he looked up from the kettle where he had been heating water for tea. Tonks was out on a late assignment, and he liked to wait up for her. He stood quickly and waved his wand to increase the lighting in the room as Severus stepped into the kitchen. He was not soot-covered, so apparently had Apparated and come in through the door keyed for Order members. "Bloody hell… are you alright? You look awful."

"Lupin. I apologize for the intrusion. It is impossible for me to send communication just now. I needed… Is it possible that I might see Katrina? I will not wake her," he said, all but stammering and clearly out of sorts, even as he attempted to appear normal. His hands were fidgeting with several pages of parchment that he placed in the secret cabinet from which only Albus could remove things.

"Of course. You know where her room is. Did something happen? Rowena is here as well. She was agitated all evening and asked if she could spend the night."

Severus stopped at the base of the stairs to look back at Remus.

"Yes, something happened. I am not at liberty to discuss it. You must keep them both here, Lupin. Here, or Hogwarts. Do not let them anywhere else, not even for an instant… please."

Remus could safely say he had NEVER seen Severus Snape appear so stricken, though perhaps he had looked something like this all those years ago when the werewolf had nearly attacked him. Remus had not been in his own mind then to recall. The uncharacteristic discomposure was alarming; he could do nothing but nod.

"Thank you. You will likely want to place Potter under the same injunction."

"Alright. Rowena's in the room just past Katrina's. I'm sure she'd be disappointed if you were here and didn't wake her."

Severus simply shrugged in reply and then disappeared up the stairs as though the Devil himself was pursuing him.

For a long, long time he did nothing but stand silently in her doorway, staring at her as she slept, golden curls in riotous disarray on her pillow, her doll nearly falling out of the bed. It seemed to take hours for the tight band of white-hot panic to finally release within his chest so that he could adequately draw breath.

He knew it had not been her. Intellectually, he knew. He had seen that 'trick' before, many times. It was often used to try and force parents to fall in line. The Dark Lord did not like to 'waste' his pure-blood 'children' if he could help it, though he was not above letting the parents believe their children were being tortured to death.

He had even managed a quick spell, just to be completely certain, when Bellatrix drew the Dark Lord's attention briefly. It had been risky. If the Dark Lord saw the attempt, he would know instantly that Severus was not as indifferent to the child as he claimed, as he pretended.

It was even worse than when he had been surrounded by 'Rowena'. Or if not worse, at least as bad as. He thought he 'performed' adequately. The Dark Lord had now tested his two suspected 'weak spots' and Severus believed that he had passed the tests well enough. But there was no way to be sure.

He entered the room and tucked the doll under the covers, under the sleeping child's arm. He tenderly stroked the soft curls and bent down to kiss her forehead.

"Papi?" she asked sleepily, stirring slightly as she settled the doll closer.

"Nein, Engelchen, Severus."

Her lashes flickered and sleepy blue eyes peeked out at him, barely visible in the pale moonlight from her windows.

"Singste mir was vor, Papi?"

"Ja, mein Engelchen," he said with a pained smile. He sat on the edge of her bed and softly began to sing.

"Der Mond ist aufgegangen,
die goldnen Sternlein prangen,
am Himmel hell und klar.
Der Wald steht schwarz und schweiget,
und aus den Wiesen steiget
der weiße Nebel wunderbar."

She was asleep again before he finished, and he kissed her softly again before quietly leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

In the darkened hall, he was torn with indecision. To know that Rowena was in the next room was torture, yet he almost succeeded in forcing himself to leave without waking her.

Almost.

"Who's there? Remus, is that you?" Her door opened and she looked out into the hall. She gasped in surprise and a fraction of an instant later she was in his arms, clutching him tightly. She buried her face against his neck and was already sobbing, trying to muffle the sound so as not to wake Katrina.

He scooped her up easily and silently carried her into the room where she had been sleeping, managing to close the door behind them before settling her down on her bed. She was utterly incoherent and clung to him so that he sat on the edge of the bed next to her, holding her and trying awkwardly to soothe her distress. Moonlight streamed in through the slightly opened window.

"Don't go back there," she sobbed when she could finally manage intelligible speech. "Don't let them do that to you anymore, it's not worth it! I can't stand it! You've been through enough already… let someone else do it!"

"Rowena, hush. You know as well as I do that what you say is impossible. I have to do it because I am the only one who can. It is only for the summer, I have to prove myself or the Order loses my information."

"Or he'll kill you, you mean," she said miserably.

"Probably not personally; he would enjoy having Lucius do it, or perhaps Bellatrix, but yes, the end result is the same," he said dryly.

"Oh God!" she cried, and hugged her arms around him tighter. "Will you stay with me a little while? Please stay a little while. Can you stay? Don't stay if it will make things more dangerous for you… if it will make everything worse."

"You are babbling, my rational Ravenclaw," he teased gently, even as he moved her over on the bed so that he could lie down beside her. "I can safely stay for a short while. Until you are asleep, perhaps."

He kicked off his boots, and she pulled the covers up over them before wrapping her arms tightly around him once again, twining her legs with his. It was the first time in weeks that the severed Bond wasn't hurting at all, but she was so wound up with fear and anxiety for him that she didn't even register the relief. The only relief was his arms around her, and soon that would be gone again.

"Your brother is still awake downstairs," Severus said. He was feeling far more composed, after having seen both 'his' girls whole and well. The horror that he would return to in the morning was nothing at all now that his worst fears were allayed, so he had capacity to think of more mundane matters. "He will be expecting me to leave soon, I think. What will he think when I do not?"

"Probably something along the lines of 'it's about bloody time'," she said, managing a weak smile only dimly visible in the dark room, and he snorted in amusement.

Her soft lips trailed fluttery kisses along his stubble-roughened jaw, and he held rigidly still. He had not kissed her since her brother's wedding, determined not to frighten her or pressure her in any way. He would not last long under her tender assault, however. Her kisses reached his mouth, her nose rubbing softly against his and his arms tightened around her.

"Rowena…"

"Hush! Hold me. Kiss me," she pleaded. Her tongue brushed his lower lip and his resolve was destroyed. He moaned into her mouth, crushing her against him. It was very much like 'coming home'. Tender, tasting, gentle kisses, a nonverbal exchange of pent up emotion—longing and fear, heartache and worry, each one soothing the other, and drawing comfort in return.

She didn't want to sleep. She kissed him as though she could devour him; consume him through taste and touch, lips and teeth and tongue, so that she could keep him with her. Her hands lovingly caressed his face, soothed the tense muscles of his back, fluttered gently across his chest as though to ease his heartache with her touch. Her fingers repeatedly entwined in his hair, the very cells of her body yearning to memorize every detail of him, every sensation.

He didn't want to sleep. Potions would overcome the physical exhaustion when he was gone from her. Only her kisses could soothe the more desperate weariness of his very soul. He drank in the sweetness of her kiss as though he was truly the vampire some of his students accused him of being. Instead of needing blood for sustenance, he needed her kisses, her touch and her sweet breath mingling with his own. Her hands on his body soothed like a cool balm on savage sunburn. He was even now too lost in hopelessness and despair to answer his body's call to desire.

He kissed her desperately, as though he could store away the sweetness as defense against the savage depths of hell.

He kissed her tenderly, as though to leave her fond and gentle memories to comfort her in her future loneliness, a sweet 'good bye' to cherish in case he did not return.

He kissed her hungrily, as though her kisses fed his body every bit as much as the clandestine, lovingly prepared food that she sent.

The kisses tasted of the bitter saltiness of tears and he was grateful for the deniability of darkness, that he could tell himself they were only hers.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep. She hadn't meant to let him go. Her arms ached with emptiness after clinging to him so tightly. The bright sunshine pouring through the window illuminated the empty pillow that still retained the impression if his head.

A small black cube for a wireless lay innocently on the pillow. He had come and gone like a shadow in the night, and if not for the cube and the reddened marks on her neck and throat, she might have thought it to be only a very vivid dream. The marks alarmed her slightly and she worried that she might have likewise stained his fair skin in her desperation. She hoped he would think to check and hide them if she had!

There was nothing to do but go on, clinging to the hope of summer's end and some easing of this madness.

She locked her door to ensure herself needed privacy and then put the cube in the wireless she had brought with her so she could listen to the first song before she went to sleep as she had done every night since he had given it to her.

Hands to Heaven – Breathe
"Tomorrow I must leave, the dawn knows no reprieve God give me strength when I am leaving…"

She had thought to be 'out' of tears. The aborted healer in her mind struggled to cling to rational thought, wondering how much one person could weep before becoming dehydrated or damaging electrolyte balance.

"So raise your hands to heaven and pray
That we'll be back together someday
Tonight, I need your sweet caress
Hold me in the darkness
Tonight, you calm my restlessness
You relieve my sadness…"

She couldn't be bothered to care about something like fluid-balance at a time like this. She wept freely, listening to the music. She thought her heart might break from the bittersweet message contained within it.

A/N: Sorry for more emotional squickiness. I do not believe in 'pulling punches'. War sucks even when justified, and I personally believe Severus' role is every bit as horrific and dangerous as I am trying to portray it. Er, obviously, or I wouldn't write it that way, I guess. Heh.

German translations, thanks to Lady Claire:

Papi—Daddy
Nein, Engelchen—No, little angel
Singste mir was vor, Papi?—Sing for me, daddy?
"Ja, mein Engelchen—yes, my little angel

The lullaby:

The moon has risen,
the golden (little) stars are flaunting,
in the sky bright and clear.
The forest is black and silent,
and from the meadows rises,
the white fog wonderful.
(This translation is only rudimental.)