The pounding on the door as the clock chimed nine made him jump on his couch, dropping his copy of Dostoyevsky's 'The Gambler' to the floor, the Russian words not distracting him as they usually did when he was on edge.

Well, she did warn you he would be prompt.

Glaring at nothing in particular, he went to undo the wards on his home and open the front door.

In stepped a tall figure, broad-shouldered and impeccably dressed in robes of a deep wine-red. Hazel eyes that lacked any real warmth surveyed him up and down, a cold sneer twisting his lips, his hand clenching a walking cane, its head decorated with a silver falcon.

Every line of Claudius Sinistra's demeanor was meant to intimidate.

Too bad he was about twelve years too late to have that effect on Severus Snape.

A thick Italian accent etched his words. "Where is my sister?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Good evening to you as well."

With a smooth motion, Claudius pulled his wand from his sleeve, holding it within an inch of Snape's nose. "Listen, you. I care very little for how much or how little our Lord thinks of you right now. As far as I, and others, are concerned, you showed no loyalty to your brethren all those years ago. You're as beneath me as the filthiest Muggle. So, quit wasting my time and tell me where Selene is, or…"

"Or you'll what, exactly?" Black eyes narrowed as he glared at the older man, his own wand held firmly in hand. "The wards on this home will ensure anything you do to me will be done to you in kind. So, you can forget that crucio you likely wanted to bestow upon me…"

Claudius' fist curled. "I don't need to use magic to handle you, you revolting…"

"Arresto!"

Selene stood in the doorway of the staircase, her own wand pointed directly at her oldest brother, fury and a dark passion radiating from her. Beside her, a grey bundle of fur growled, fur bristling, fangs bared. "I said stop, damn you both!"

"Non divenite coinvolti, Selene."

"Don't tell me what to do, Claudius!" Her hand never wavered, regardless of the steps she took towards the taller man, before snatching his wand from him. "Zeus and Hera, you'd think by now you'd have grown up a little bit. Or at least learned a few manners Mama tried to teach you."

"Selene, siate silenzioso! Vi porto casa."

Selene glared. "You can drop the Italian – he speaks Latin, so he'll understand every word anyway. And you're not taking me home or anywhere else, so you can stop acting so noble. And don't ever tell me to be quiet again."

Claudius' jaw hung open. "I am not leaving you here with this…this…"

Her eyebrow shot straight up. "This what, Claudius? This man to whom I owe my life?"

Hazel eyes flew wide-open. "Your life? Surely you're just being dramatic. You don't look as if you've been in any danger…"

"Don't belittle me, Claudius." Selene stepped between the two of them, her wand finally lowering, clutching hers, slipping his into her pocket. "I mean it. If it hadn't been for him, I'd never have survived the other night. Or the next three days. I was poisoned last week, Claudius."

The deep olive coloring in her brother's face began to fade. "Poison?"

Severus finally spoke up, stepping out of Selene's shadow, beside her. "Her wine was laced with wolfsbane. It almost killed her. She spent days in a coma; I had to pour potions down her throat and hold her while she purged the poison from herself. All unconscious. It took two more days before she could even stand on her own. Trust me, she's not being dramatic. She came close to death."

Claudius paled even more, swallowing hard. "Wolfsbane? In your wine?"

Selene dropped her ire, staring at her brother, searching his eyes, his words. She knew that tone of his voice. "Yes. My wine. Why?" The hazel eyes lowered, not meeting her gaze. Another marker she knew all too well. "What aren't you telling me, Claudius?"

He turned away from his sister.

She wrenched him back. "Claudius Nero Sinistra, don't you dare… what are you hiding from me? Because if I have to owl Mama…"

Claudius shook his head, thick brown hair swaying with his motions. "Leave her out of it, sorellina."

"Then tell me. Or I will owl her. Or Julius. At least I have one brother who won't lie to me or treat me as if I were still ten."

Claudius paced in the small living room, avoiding his sister's iron gaze, murmuring in Italian at a pace far faster than Severus' limited Latin could follow. One word finally caught his ears, grabbing his attention and refusing to let go.

Before Selene could react, he grabbed the older man and swung him around to stare into his face, fury fueling him. "Mistake? What the bloody hell do you mean, a mistake? Your sister was almost killed and you strut around here crowing about a mistake!"

Selene grabbed his arm. "Severus, please." Her voice shook as much as the slender hand pulling him away. "Please, don't. You promised." With swimming eyes, Selene stared at her brother. "The wine was a mistake? Is that what you're saying?"

Claudius had no choice. With the air of a broken spirit, he nodded.

Severus' mind lurched, along with his stomach. "You sent your sister the wrong wine? You meant the wolfsbane for someone else?"

At another nod from her brother, Selene's voice grew quiet and dejected. "You broke your promise to Mama. You swore to her you'd never …"

"Clearly, sorellina, I kept that promise."

"But you meant to!" Her voice shook the very walls. "You swore to Mama, swore in blood, and you intended to break that vow! Claudius, how could you?"

"I did what I was told to do, Selene. Greyback had a traitor in his midst; he needed the poisoned wine to deal with it quietly, without involving his pack…"

The twisted snarl that came over her shocked Severus – it was as uncharacteristic as possible for her. Or, at least, every side of her that he'd seen thus far. "That filthy, repugnant werewolf matters more than our mother? More than ME?"

"Damn it, of course not, sorellina!" The regret and fear was giving way to the arrogance that enveloped him when he first walked into the home. "I had no idea the wine was sent to you. I've been worried sick since you didn't show up for dinner. I've had everyone I can think of searching for you. This is why I keep begging you to come home. If you'd been with us, it never would have happened, and even if it had, you know Marcus could have…"

"I was in rather capable hands, Claudius, no worries. Don't twist this into your campaign to drag me home and use me as some little mascot to justify your deplorable choices."

"Oh, grow up, Selene!" Claudius' voice barely contained his rage. "The war has begun again! There are choices to be made, and people live or die by them. You live in your idyllic little world where you pretend that everyone can be noble and kind. That's not real, Selene. Besides, not all of us have the luxury of hiding in castles away from it all…" His eyes leered over at the other occupant in the room, his words clearly intended for another target.

"Go to hell, Sinistra."

"Not unless I take you with me, Snape."

"STOP IT!"

"I'd like to see you try it."

"I think it's one unforgivable I'd be forgiven for, in the end…"

"I SAID STOP!"

This time, the whole room shook, books falling off narrow shelves, the clock crashing to the floor with a sickening crunch, before both men finally stopped their row to stare at the woman, her hands clenched into fists, one gripping her wand so tightly blood dripped from her palm to the wooden floor where her nails cut her flesh. The air around her still faintly crackled with energy, and Galileo wrapped herself around an ankle, protecting her mistress from her own temper. In the pale candlelight, Severus could see the tearstains on her cheeks.

Selene took a deep breath, Galileo's calm purring giving her something to center herself on, regaining her self-control. "I will not stand here a second longer and put up with this completely petty bickering. War or not, Claudius, good intentions or not, orders or not, you broke a vow to our mother. I almost died, as much from those people you try to save me from as from your anger and stupidity. I've made it clear I never want to exist like Mama, unable to see my own face, to know that I'll outlive the very notion of family, unless someone is kind enough to drive a stake through my heart at sunrise. If I'd have died, Claudius, I'd have become everything I never wanted for myself, and regardless of why, you're the one who almost made that happen. You claim to care about your baby sister, your precious sorellina, but you haven't so much as thanked the man who saved me from your carelessness, your utter stupidity. I don't give a damn who you tried to kill or why. Get the hell out of my sight."

"Don't be silly, Selene."

"I'm not." Her voice trembled with unshed tears. "Get the hell out. Now. I don't know what to even think right now. I'll find you when I'm ready to talk to you again. But for now, Claudius," she finished, her words shaking to the point of almost no coherence, "just go away."

"I'm not leaving you with him…"

"One again, Claudius, not your choice. I'm an adult. But don't worry." She turned her head to stare at the other man in the room, her eyes narrowed and cold. "You're not. I'm returning to the school before morning. I'll be safe enough there."

"Selene, come home. Mama wants…"

She couldn't keep the tears away any longer. "Since when do you care anymore what Mama wants?"

Claudius' shoulders sagged and his head hung low at the accusation. "For what little it's worth, Selene, we all want you home."

"Not this Christmas, Claudius."

She stood in place as she handed her brother his wand and turned his back on her, walking out through the front door.

At the discrete cough behind her, she spun around, livid. "You promised me to stay out of it." Without giving him a chance to respond, Selene stormed up the staircase to the bedroom, wand flashing around, her items packing themselves into a small case found in the closet.

She'd meant what she'd said. She had every intention of returning to Hogwarts.

His house echoed as he walked through it, the familiar walls and filled shelves somehow not exuding the solace they usually did. The furniture hadn't changed in thirty years, nor had the limited décor. It was, ironically, just how he wanted it. Ever since going to teach at the school, this was his sanctuary, his way to escape his world, his torment, his own private hell.

Now, it had become the hell he sought to avoid.

Severus picked up yet another book, the binding broken from the fall from the shelf, cleaning the mess that had been left in her wake. How Selene had shaken the house evaded him – on the other hand, vampiric psychic ability wasn't unheard of. And the house was barely stable. Hadn't been for years. The falling books had reminded him of another winter night, years ago, only the woman who had wielded the wand hadn't had Selene's high cheekbones or tall, slender frame.

That was the night his father had left them for good.

Shoving aside memories best left forgotten, he repaired torn pages and broken covers, sliding each book home with reverent care. They were all Severus possessed now of his father, besides a few stolen Muggle pictures and a pocket watch that he'd found when cleaning the home after his mother's death. He remembered that night, regardless of how he tried to forget. Home from Hogwarts for Christmas break, he'd sat back and watched, yet again, as his mother drank to the point of irrationality and his father reacted to her drunkenness with his usual anger. Tobias had thrown Eileen against the bookcase after she'd tried to slap him, his books flying everywhere as his wife scrambled to her feet.

Neither Tobias or his son had seen the wand in her hand.

It had only been reflex from the torment of the Marauders that had honed his reflexes to where he could deflect the stinging hex Eileen had flung at her husband. Her rage had then turned toward them both, and it was only from the liquor and the bump on her head that caused her to not react.

Once Eileen had fallen into her stupor, clutching the bottle that had become her solace as her marriage crumbled and her life unraveled, Tobias Snape pulled his only child aside, explained in the best terms a thirteen-year-old boy could understand how he simply could not handle her anymore, how he'd once truly loved her, how sorry he was he couldn't save him, and left. No case, no bag. Just a lecture on how he couldn't live with a witch who resented him, a regret on not being able to take his son with, before he grabbed his coat, hailed a Muggle cab, and left.

When his mother had woken, the beating she'd given her son had been harsher than any hex he could have felt.

The burdens of being his mother's mistake.

Severus' left arm ached as he remembered why he'd taken the mark in the first place. It hadn't had a thing to do with those damn bastards who tortured him every year of school. It hadn't had a thing to do with his father. It wasn't power or possible wealth or even manipulation.

He just wanted to be good enough for her.

She'd died, alone, rejecting him at her bedside.

"I was pureblooded. Noble. Respected. And I just rebelled against my parents and married him. What a fool. And more the fool - because of you, I stayed with him."

Holding a copy of 'Othello', Severus' long fingers caressed the binding, no fault found in the old book, one of his favorites. Selene had left an hour before, with no word, just an awkward silence and a stiff nod before using his fireplace. He knew why, he understood completely.

Family, after all, was all that the outcasts had in the end.

He had clearly stepped the line. She'd asked him, with her quiet strength, to leave her brother to her to deal with. It was her fight, and instead he'd allowed Claudius to get to him, to get under his skin, and he'd risen to the bait. But that was not the only catch.

He'd snapped when he learned about the wine.

Why did I do that?

Maybe because you care about her?

But if I cared, wouldn't I have abided by her wishes?

Not if you felt she'd been in harm's way…

Bollocks.

This wasn't the way his life was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to let anyone in, he wasn't supposed to let his guard down. That had been Eileen's mistake. He'd sworn on her grave not to make the same mistake.

So why did this house now feel like a stifling prison of his own design?

Her apartment seemed so foreign to her, so distant and cold, as she stood beside her bed, her hand holding one of the posters. The deep sapphires and burgundies that had decorated the few rooms of her apartments seemed wrong somehow, too bright, too rich.

Too alone.

Galileo had immediately made her displeasure known, growling and hissing at her mistress the second her paws stepped from the fireplace. She didn't like leaving the little house, and she refused to allow Selene the luxury of ignoring that fact. Settling on her grey couch, leaving her bag on the floor without care, Selene hugged a pillow close to her, for once not smelling cloves or some odd concoction of potions ingredients clinging to everything around her. She needed that separation, that space, to work through the convoluted thoughts she had.

She should have been angry at Severus for interfering the way he did, especially after she asked him not to do so. She should have been livid for his defending her, for silently implying she was incapable of doing so for herself. And most of all, she should have been fuming over the fact that he'd disregarded everything she'd said in bed that afternoon, about Claudius' need to control and intimidate, and not to rise to the occasion.

Instead, the memory of his vehement defense of her made her stomach twist in a way it hadn't in half a lifetime.

This needed to end. It wasn't practical in any way. All Selene could see coming from the liaison continuing was either awkwardness or regret. Neither were sensations she enjoyed. The term would begin, they'd have work and obligations, classes and students, research and exams. They wouldn't have time to even consider regular dates for coffee, let alone trysts behind everyone's backs. Not to mention the effort to keep this life private – she couldn't see either of them ever comfortable with the idea of Madam Sprout making commentary to them at some feast.

But the thought of letting go of the most freeing and effortless relationship she'd had in over a decade just seemed so utterly and completely wrong to her.

Everything about him, about the feel of being with him, was completely counter to Anatoli. It wasn't about lust and control and ownership. It was about mutual desire and freedom and respect.

Things that had been long missing from her life.

Anatoli Korovich had been introduced to her at a university function. She'd been twenty, studying in her final year in Astronomy. Her advisor at Durham, Professor Coulter, had introduced Novakoff to the event, to show off his former student as she presented their joint research, and to allow her student to socialize with a fellow wizard.

He'd brought his nephew, Anatoli.

Blonde, glacier-blue eyes, and exceptionally tall. That was her first impression of Anatoli. A few glasses of champagne and a couple whispered comments from Novakoff, informing her that he was 'their kind', and Selene had been willing to let him walk her home. And into her life.

Until a few months later, when he finally noticed the puncture wounds she'd tried to keep him from seeing. The fangs she hid with every kiss. The way she had convinced him she hated quidditch and preferred to study in the day, that her studies required a different sleep pattern.

Then he'd turned on her.

It had been in Azkaban when one of the investigators let it slip that Anatoli had told them about her. Anatoli, who had spent the short time they were together telling her how to dress, how to act, what to read. Anatoli, who had tried to get her to move out of university dorms and into his flat, to not pursue such Muggle studies anymore, to study something more practical than astronomy. Anatoli, who in only a matter of weeks had completely turned her from this growing independent woman to someone who could scarcely breathe without the man she was so sure she loved.

Anatoli had sent her to the Dementors.

The betrayal had almost cost her her sanity. And she'd sworn to never trust again.

Now, this other man had come into her life, treated her with respect and some admiration, had given her a level of his own trust, and hadn't asked for anything in return. Except trust.

And she had been able to give it freely. That thought scared her.

She hated the idea of choosing between her family and her life. Selene had never once been comfortable with the idea. Her mother, her brothers – they had always been there for her, even if they didn't always agree. But Claudius and she had never agreed where to lay their loyalties. The idea of Voldemort and his corruption of the idea of wizarding superiority sickened her, especially after years at Durham, studying alongside them. But her days in Azkaban repulsed her as well, showing the prejudice towards her kind, and others, that existed in their world.

She could never choose a side. How could she? They both were wrong.

Rising to her feet and stretching, Selene wandered to her kitchen and fixed a cup of tea, needing the warmth in her hands and in her belly. Taking the cup to her bedroom, she changed, slipping her dress over a chair and pulling a nightgown on instead, then crawled beneath her blankets. She held the teacup, sipping and watching the light behind her curtains begin to pale and grow. As the sun rose and her body grew tired, she settled down, the bedding, the pillows, the sheets all not feeling the way she remembered.

Her last thought before sleep consumed her was how they'd never feel right again.