It really was a beautiful day. The birds were singing in the hedgerows as Remus strolled down Maltings Lane, lost in a thousand different thoughts since his life-changing conversation with Severus. The wolf made a single, feeble attempt to try and communicate something about the cub as he walked, but the wolfsbane in Remus' system made it very easy for the human to drown him out.

He had not realised how he felt about Snape until the moment he saw him being kissed by Albus. Over the months, the two fathers had grown close as they discussed parenthood, then they had doted on the baby with matching delight since the birth. Somewhere along the way, his feelings for Severus had obviously deepened into a bit more than a shared interest in Saskia and a shared history of pain across two wizarding wars. Now, he wanted to wrap his arms around the potions master and their child and never let go, protecting and loving them both no matter what.

The thought of physical intimacy with the darker man was a world away from his still-confused feelings for Harry. Harry was undeniably beautiful, young, fit and toned, yet he had been unable to do more than kiss him weeks ago, when the boy had practically offered himself on a platter. Remus began to suspect that he considered himself not good enough for Harry, preferring to put him on a pedestal and just admire, rather than share real sexual experience. Given recent developments, it seemed likely.

Severus had never been much to look at, and was even less attractive since his weight gain and hormonal imbalances, but the sarcastic tongue and penetrating glares easily transmuted inside Lupin's mind into fantasies of delicious depravity. He imagined slowly removing those many layers of black robes and exploring what lay beneath. Admittedly, he had seen most of what lay beneath at Saskia's birth, though that day, eroticism had been the very last thing on his mind. Besides, sex involved all six senses, not just sight. He wondered how Severus would feel under his roaming hands, how he would smell, taste, what sounds he could be encouraged to make. The details of their previous time together were hazy, probably from a combination of alcohol and the dominant behaviour of the wolf. He found he was longing to remind himself.

Remus licked his lips and swallowed, suddenly rather hot under the collar.

He was probably a lot more experienced than Harry, too, the werewolf mused. This salacious thought led Remus to realise that he had not asked about the father of the child who died. He frowned as he tried to remember seeing Severus with a lover. Racking his brains about their school contemporaries failed to produce a single candidate. Neither could he recall having ever seen the Slytherin with anyone who could have been described as a friend. He scratched his chin in wonderment.

Perhaps the father had not been a student at Hogwarts. Could it be an acquaintance from Snape's home town in Yorkshire? Or someone in Hogsmeade? A nasty idea slunk into his consciousness concerning the scene he had just witnessed between Snape and Dumbledore and he stopped dead in the middle of the road.

Shy and awkward children with few friends whose parents were inattentive could be vulnerable to abuse, Lupin knew. It would make a twisted kind of sense. Having a teenage affair with your elderly headmaster was a sure-fire way of hurting yourself and ending up serving the dark wizard who opposed him, out of heartbroken spite. It would also explain Dumbledore's jubilation when he returned to the fold, and his borderline obsessive need to trust the young spy when practically every member of the Light forces hated him.

Was it possible? Remus clawed up as many memories of the old man as he could. Most of them were either of a charming centenarian babbling about socks, or of a stern military commander, nurturing loyalty from his troops with intelligent speeches. Perhaps a Slytherin would hold a different view. Even as a teenager, Lupin had seen plenty of examples of the dreadful bias Dumbledore harboured against the serpent house. Despite this weakness, he had never heard even a ghost of a rumour of any inappropriate behaviour, though he had to concede that a man so startlingly clever would hardly leave the evidence lying around. Evidence, he gulped, such as a baby Dumbledore-Snape. Had Albus orchestrated...?

Remus screwed his eyes shut, refusing to entertain any more of these dreadful, unfounded ideas. He had obviously been spending too much time with Severus 'twisted and suspicious' Snape. He decided to simply ask next time he visited, instead of jumping to disturbing conclusions.

He resumed walking, though the Spring afternoon seemed a little less delightful now than it had done before. Yet again his brain replayed the startling sight of his mate being kissed by someone else and Remus decided that it simply would not do. He had not realised when making his offer just how strongly he wanted Severus. Squaring his shoulders in preparation for the tug-of-war which lay ahead, he took a focussing breath and disapparated.

…….

Back at the house, Snape was having more trouble focussing.

Wormtail was clutching Saskia at an odd angle, almost tucked under his chin with his elbow sticking out in front, his wand jabbing firmly into her neck. Her head lolled backwards and she was screaming like a banshee, her face vivid red and her little limbs flailing. It was more than Snape could stand.

"Pettigrew! Give her to me!" he begged, reaching out to take her. As a Death Eater, he had always wondered why a hostage's loved ones always asked for what they were not going to get. Cries of 'let him go' or 'don't hurt her' had always rather amused him, as if any genuine kidnapper or assassin would consider their request and say, 'Oh, Ok then. Bye!' But now he understood. It was probably the karmic idea of what goes around, comes around, that he was the victim now, pathetically asking for the impossible in a kind of desperate hope that it was some kind of joke and everything would be all right.

"Stay where you are, Snape!" hissed Wormtail, taking a step backwards. "And give me your wand!"

Severus hesitated for a second, before the distressed yells of his daughter reminded him that he was in no position to fight. Unfortunately. He put his wand on the floor and kicked it towards the odious little man in front of him, with the grim feeling that he had just lost his last chance. Pettigrew was more powerful than most people realised, but he was still no match for Snape in a duel. Not that any kind of spellcasting was possible with Saskia in the line of fire. He felt cold sweat forming in the pores on his body and scalp. Unable to stand up to such stress, he sensed the Secret Weapon being overwhelmed by his natural grease.

"Support her head, at least. Please, Pettigrew!" he wrung his hands hopelessly, pain shooting through every nerve of his body with each of the baby's cries. He was helpless. He had failed to protect her. This was all his fault.

"I can't," snarled Wormtail, looking angry for the first time. A particularly sharp scream from Saskia made him wince and cast 'silencio' on her. She stopped crying in shock at being no longer able to make a sound. Then continued in eerie silence, growing redder and redder in her frustration.

It was too much for Snape to bear. The sight of his tiny daughter, upset, in deadly danger, probably in pain and now stifled at the whim of this murderer pushed him through Despair, through Fear, through Horror and through Panic, into the calm place on the other side. Suddenly his wits were razor sharp. Every sense became hyper-alert and each one of his considerable resources was at his disposal to engage in the battle for his baby.

He stopped asking stupid questions.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "You know that I will do anything to ensure Saskia's safety. Tell me what you want and I shall get it." Pettigrew smiled his ratty smile, pleased to see the rational, scientific wizard reassert himself. He looked down at the child screaming silently in his awkward grip.

"She looks like Moony," he commented nasally. "Just as well for her, I suppose!"

"I have never seen Lupin looking…like that," he managed to keep the grief out of his voice as he indicated the tormented expression on the tiny features.

"Oh, I don't know," he mused. "You weren't there the time Sirius transfigured his five thousand word NEWT arithmancy essay into a pork pie and James accidentally ate it. He looked almost exactly like this."

Snape wondered how he could so casually refer to the people he had destroyed. He always felt faintly uncomfortable when discussing the former associates whom he had betrayed, even the psychotic ones, like Bellatrix. Not that he ever showed it, of course. Even Dumbledore's benevolence had its limits.

Here they stood, two traitors from opposing sides, relics from a war which was fading into history. Foes from day one, each making their different choices then recanting them. Twenty-five years ago it would have been impossible to imagine that the jolly, popular Gryffindor boy would be the dangerous fugitive and the spiteful Slytherin loner would have a family and circle of dear friends. All results of the decisions they made as teenagers.

Snape reflected that a little help from those friends would be really useful at the moment. He cursed his impetuosity in not ennervating the unconscious Pip in the hallway and sending her to alert someone. He wondered if a sense of the baby's danger could provoke her powerful elven magic into overcoming whatever spell Pettigrew had cast.

"What did you do to my elf?" he demanded sternly, trying not to look closely at the miserable child.

"Oh, not a lot. It was very accommodating actually. It brought me safely inside the house. I have to compliment you on your wards, incidentally, Snivellus, I've been trying to get in for days without alerting you!" he sniggered in a cruel, sneering way which would have looked imposing on Severus, but just looked ugly on him. Severus grimly remembered waking with the impression that something was wrong the previous night, but only finding Lupin in the study. The rat must have caused a slight disruption to the wards.

"What do you mean, Pip brought you in?" concern fractured the calm façade for a second at the thought of the dear little creature in league with this monster.

Pettigrew adopted a whiny voice to mock the elf.

"Oh, poor little ratty with only three legs, be coming inside and having a snacky-wacky, Master will not be minding," he finished his play-acting with a derisive snort. "Once I became human again and stunned it, the wards tried to attack me, but it's much easier to disable them from inside."

Snape cursed himself for not making it clearer to Pip to be suspicious of rats near the house, especially ones with silver paws. It was utterly shaming that he had never seriously considered the possibility of something like this happening. He stared at the odd way the animagus was holding Saskia and realised for the first time that the legendary magical silver arm was missing.

"Your hand!" he exclaimed, wondering why it had taken him so long to notice. "What happened?" Wormtail shifted self-consciously and snorted.

"Vanished into thin air," he sighed resentfully. "The moment Harry killed…Him…it just disappeared. That's why I'm here. It's all very well being a one-handed wizard, 'cause you can use your wand; but I have to spent most of my time transformed, and being a three-legged rat is really, really lousy. I can only be human when I'm alone." A shadow passed across his face and he looked Snape in the eye with a haunted expression. "I don't like being alone. I'd rather be a kid's pet rat, or run with the wild rats than be alone. I can't be alone."

"I cannot provide you with a new hand, Pettigrew," said Snape slowly, worried about the other man's increasingly emotional state. Relaxed was preferable. Relaxed was predictable. "Skele-gro will provide new bones, but the flesh…"

"The flesh was 'willingly given'," he quoted miserably, as though he deeply regretted the shameful night of Voldemort's rebirth. "I know it can never come back. But there's a potion. I've heard about it in Ame…in the place where I've been hiding. You take a muggle prosthetic limb and attach it the muggle way, then you take the potion and it becomes part of you! Well, almost. It's not exactly the same, but it's much better than the dead plastic was before."

Snape raised an eyebrow. He was talking about Part-of-Me Potion™. According to the journals, it was in the experimental stages at one of the commercial labs in Florida, but so far it had only been tested on…he smirked as the realisation dawned…the stuff had been tested on rats.

"Did your rodent chums tell you about this?" he asked snidely. With no sense of shame, Wormtail nodded.

"Word gets around," he shrugged. "Now you are going to brew me some. I have some of the calculations here," he indicated a piece of parchment on the nursery table which Snape had not noticed. "Then, when it's all done I can give you your baby back and we can all live happily ever after." His leering gaze swept properly over his opponent for the first time. "Nice tits, by the way."

Ignoring the last comment, Snape swallowed discreetly and weighed up his options. He realised that he would need help to get himself and Alexandra out of this situation unharmed, which meant somehow contacting other people. He looked over the list of ingredients and began a benign discussion with Pettigrew over the availability of the various substances and the time required to brew an experimental potion, as a cover while he acted on his plan.

The stream of pointless complaints fell effortlessly from his naturally objectionable lips, while he used the greater part of his consciousness to clear his head. The scene in the nursery faded into the background, though his own voice droned on scornfully as before. Little effort was required to sink deeper and deeper into the well of his mind, thanks to his well-rehearsed Occlumency techniques; but this time, instead of visualising himself as a tight sphere, indestructible and resistant to all external attempts at penetration, he concentrated on the sacred and indelible link between Occlumency Master and Apprentice.

He grasped at the long-buried echo of the sensation of Dumbledore reaching inside his mind during his lessons before becoming a spy. The two men who had gained access to his thoughts had been opposites in many ways – their approaches to Legilimency had been no exception. The Dark Lord had seared his brain with what felt like white-hot splinters, gouging at whatever emotions they could find and leaving him with the violated sensation of being bruised inside for days afterwards. Albus' teaching had been much gentler, rather like the tentacles of a drowsy octopus feeling around for something to tug loose and remove.

He focussed as hard as he could on the peculiar memories of the old man's exploration, then turned all of his magical energy towards it.

Albus?

…….

"Harry, come on! We're already late, Fergus'll do his nut!" Oliver yelled through the half-open changing-room door. "What are you doing?"

Harry hoisted his kitbag over a shoulder and opened his mouth to throw a witty comment back at his on-off lover when he suddenly doubled over, clutching at his ears.

"H? Are you OK?" he dashed inside, where the Seeker had dropped to the ground, groaning.

Large, horrified green eyes met his.

"Ol," he gasped. "It finally happened! I'm going mad! I've started hearing voices!"

…….

Snape's mind's eye rolled despairingly.

He had forgotten that a third powerful wizard had been trampling around inside his head in the past. During the horrendous months when he had tried to teach the little ingrate, Potter's invasion had felt like the muggles' animated (and anatomically inaccurate) interpretation of a Tasmanian devil, flailing about making undignified noises as he messed up Snape's delicately-balanced internal filing systems.

Sod off, Potter!

…….

"Huh?" gaped Harry.

"Shall I call someone?" asked Oliver, kneeling on the floor next to him, not sure what he ought to be doing.

"N…no. I'm not ready for St Mungo's closed ward yet," he shut his eyes and tried to listen to what was being said. In a way, it was more terrifying than his visions of Voldemort. At least he had known where they came from. This was a totally new form of attack.

"What are they saying?" Oliver wondered, tentatively stroking Harry's back to try and sooth him.

Will you get out of the way, Potter! I am attempting to contact Dumbledore!

"Snape?" Harry's eyes almost popped out of his head.

"Snape?" echoed Oliver, looking fearfully over his shoulder. "Where?"

Yes, yes, congratulations on recognising the voice of someone you have known for more than ten years. Now close your addled cerebellum so I can call for some real help!

The famous Gryffindor heroism recognised a distress call when it heard one. Closing his eyes and drifting inside his mind, Harry imagined he was in a Divination lesson and tuned out the external world.

What's wrong, Snape? Is Remus in trouble?

Well, I suppose in Albus' absence you will suffice, Potter. Saving lives is your 'thing', after all. The word 'thing' dripped with molten sarcasm. Pay attention. Pettigrew is here, in my house. He is holding my baby hostage and seems rather desperate. Inform Albus and Tonks. And Remus, he added as an afterthought. The wolf might surface again on seeing its cub threatened, which could be useful.

Bloody hell! Really?

No, April Fool.

Snape, it's not April Fool's Day yet.

A fact of which I am perfectly aware. Cretin.

So it's true, then?

Yes it is. I will beg you, if I must. Please help us. He is…he is hurting my daughter. Please, Potter.

The sound of the evil old git pleading with him almost knocked Harry over, but it made him realise the urgency of the situation. Without another thought, he disapparated away.

Oliver was still kneeling on the changing-room floor, alone now and more confused than he had ever been in his life, when Coach Alexson flung open the door and began yelling.

"Wood! We're waiting for you, what are you doing? Get your tartan-clad Scotch arse to my office right now! Where's Mr Showbiz?" He searched the room for signs of Harry.

"He had to go," the Keeper got slowly to his feet.

"Go! Go where! What in the name of Merlin's giblets could be more important than my strategy meeting?" bellowed the Coach. Oliver shrugged his shoulders with resignation.

"I think he had to save the world again," he sighed.

…….

Not trusting Potter to organise an efficient rescue without falling over his own feet, Severus summoned all his mental strength and made one last attempt to call Albus.

He received a response this time which - thankfully - sounded nothing like Potter, but nothing like Albus either. It was an indistinct sort of musical chirp which made him wonder if Pip had regained consciousness on her own. That possibility cheered him infinitely more than having successfully got through to the brat.

Returning to the auto-pilot conversation which he had been holding with Pettigrew throughout these Occlumentic distress calls, the animagus was brushing aside all his pertinent comments about the availability of the potion ingredients.

"I knew it would be hard for you to get hold of these things quickly, so I brought most of them with me," he said, readjusting the still-wriggling baby in the grip of his damaged arm. "So let's get on, shall we? I think you've done enough stalling. The sooner you finish, the sooner I can give you your sprog back and I can leave."

"My laboratory is in the basement," said Snape smoothly. He gestured towards the door. "After you."

"Ha!" Wormtail gave an unpleasant snort. "I know you have a very low opinion of me, Snivellus, but I'm not stupid. You first. And I warn you, try any funny business with your potions equipment and I will hurt the kid, I can promise you that. Have you ever seen a baby under Cruciatus?"

Snape felt his heart and major arteries all turn to ice. He nodded.

"Well then, you know how easily they can just…burst," he snorted again. "Behave yourself, Snape."

The dark man agreed meekly and led the way downstairs, wondering why the hell Potter was taking so long.

…….

Half of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement appeared to be in Snape's garden, all under standard obscuring charms to make themselves invisible to onlookers, but not to each other.

Harry was pleased with how quickly he fell back into the routines learned during auror training. Tonks had taken personal charge of the operation, which was an indication of how very seriously the Ministry was taking the situation. She carefully briefed everyone about the very real danger posed to each and every citizen by the proximity of the last free Death Eater to some of the world's deadliest substances.

"Remus, have you any idea what he keeps in that lab?" she turned to the werewolf, who was looking a little absent. "Remus?"

Harry poked him.

"Uh?" Lupin was desperately trying to get in touch with his inner wolf in the hope that its extra senses would be of use, but the sip of wolfsbane he had taken earlier was making it difficult. "Oh. No idea. I'm not allowed in. He hasn't done much brewing since he became pregnant, but I suppose a lot of the ingredients are dried or spelled and will keep for years. Sorry."

"No matter. Right, I want bubble head charms on everyone entering the house. If we are reduced to a stand-off situation I want no heroics," she glared pointedly at Harry and Remus, then a brightly-coloured figure hovering at the edge of the driveway caught her eye. "Skeeter! What are you doing here? Clear off!"

"I heard there was trouble, wondered if I could be of assistance," Rita smiled like a crocodile, brand new flameproof Quick Quotes Quill poised for action. "Do you regret that the Ministry's inability to catch Peter Pettigrew has put the life of a tiny child in danger? Such a special baby, too. The first legally reported offspring of a male pregnancy. Does that add to the pressure to succeed, Chief Auror?"

Tonks turned back to her troops with a growl. She jerked a thumb towards the journalist, who was stealthily inching her way towards the action.

"If I find out that one of my team tipped off the Prophet, there will be trouble. As is stands, there's nothing we can do now, but do this by the book. Our every move is under surveillance here. Be careful and listen to your orders. Now move!"

One of their first tasks was reviving Pip, who immediately began to blame herself for the whole dreadful mess.

"Please, Pip," Remus begged as he tried to stop her from breaking her own fingers in mortification. He felt like doing the same for leaving Snape and Saskia exposed to such danger. "No need to punish yourself. Just help us find them!"

She immediately closed her eyes and concentrated, rising slightly off the floor as she performed the magical search.

"Basement labottery" she flattened her ears back against her head and raised her hands, the claws visibly growing longer and sharper. "Bad, bad, bad rat-man be hurting little Mistress!"

Tonks communicated this to the rest of the MLE and joined Albus, Harry, Neville and Remus in following the elf to the lab. Pip moved fast, taking huge strides with an intensity of purpose which made her look like a miniature manticore.

She flicked a hand almost nonchalantly and the very solid door blasted inwards.

It was a sight which would haunt Remus' nightmares for the rest of his life. Snape was standing over a bubbling cauldron, pale and anxious, while Wormtail clutched a very upset Saskia to his chest. The animagus started as they appeared but recovered quickly.

"Get back! All of you!" he threatened. He jabbed the wand in the baby's red and swollen face and Severus and Remus winced in unison. "I'll hurt her. I promise you it won't be pleasant to watch."

Involuntarily, Snape gave a little moan of grief. Remus stiffened and Harry and Neville each reflexively grabbed one of his arms to restrain him from doing anything silly.

Albus lowered his wand but did not put it away. He had never looked less barmy, less old or less like a codger in his life. His electric-blue eyes seemed to flash as they swept the room.

"Peter, my boy, there is no need for any of that," he spoke directly to Pettigrew in a tone that was like honey-glazed barbed wire. "We can talk about anything you want. Just give Saskia to us and then we can all sit down for a chat."

"Ha!" Pettigrew gave another one of his nasal snorts. "Do you think I'm insane?"

"Have me instead!" shouted Lupin, as a possible way out suggested itself. "You need a hostage for negotiation, use me! I'll do whatever you tell me. But give her to Severus, can't you see she's hurting herself like that!"

"Remus, no!" hissed Harry, but the werewolf wasn't listening. He made a show of handing his wand to Tonks and rolling up his sleeves to show that nothing was concealed as he stepped forward.

Snape whined again and reached automatically towards his daughter, his black eyes looking enormous in his drawn white face. Even Harry felt a pang of sympathy at the sight. Pettigrew would not be moved and held Saskia away from both fathers.

"Get back, Lupin! I'm not falling for your stupid tricks. There is no need for you lot to interfere. Snape is brewing me a little potion, which won't take long. Once I have taken it, I will give back the baby and never return. So get out while he finishes! Go on, scram!" He poked his wand into Saskia's face harder than before.

Then three things happened.

Firstly, everyone took a horrified step backwards at this renewed threat.

Then, Saskia stopped her terrible silent bawling and composed her face into an expression of extreme concentration. She closed her eyes, gave a little exclamation of surprise and turned into a fluffy, dark brown wolf cub. Taken by surprise, Pettigrew lost his lopsided grip and she slipped sideways. Overtaken by a kind of superhuman paternal power, Snape dived forward as though Seeking a World Cup Final snitch and caught her before she hit the floor, rolling them both to safety underneath a workbench.

Lastly, a burst of blinding golden light from out of nowhere forced everyone to cover their eyes. Pettigrew screamed once, then all was silent.

Blinking, the wizards stared at the place where Wormtail had been standing. Then looked down. He was now lying on the floor, with fiery orange manacles pinning him to the flagstones by one wrist, one elbow and both ankles, and perched triumphantly on his chest was…

"Fawkes!" cried Albus joyously. The phoenix threw his head back and trilled a tuneful greeting, before flapping up to the old man's shoulder and nuzzling his temple.

Lupin shot under the table where Severus and their cub had taken refuge and pulled them both against him, holding on for dear life. After a moment, he realised that he was crying with relief. Snape was oblivious to everything but his furry daughter. Visibly shaking, he muttered incoherent streams of apology and comfort as he stroked her all over, from the tip of her pink nose to the tiny toes on each soft paw. Her heart was beating a crazy rhythm after the stress of the prolonged trauma, but she snuggled in his familiar embrace and lapped at his fingers with her small pink tongue. When he still refused to pay attention to anything or anyone else after ten minutes, Albus suggested that Remus should take his family upstairs.

"I think dear Severus may be suffering from shock," he whispered quietly. "Put them both to bed and the aurors can take a statement later."

With a little help from Pip, who needed distraction from her repeated attempts to do violence to Pettigrew and to herself, Remus manoeuvred them out of the cold laboratory, where Neville was attending to the cauldron with all the skill of a professional potions master. Tonks was simultaneously trying to stop Harry from hexing Wormtail, preventing Rita Skeeter from rummaging in the cupboard marked 'Poisons' and begging Fawkes to release the bonds so they could arrest him.

"I'm so glad you're back, my pet," Albus beamed at the phoenix. "How did you know Severus was in trouble?"

Fawkes chirruped and pecked gently at the side of his head.

"Occlumency? Really?" asked Dumbledore. "I didn't hear a thing! It must have been while I was listening to the Howlin' Bloodcurse Thrashers' new album. Oh, dear. I rather let them down, didn't I?" The phoenix gave an admonitory squawk and tugged on his sleeve. "What is it? You want me to come with you? Very well."

After contacting Molly to ask her to come and take care of the family, Albus allowed his familiar to carry him to a secluded spot in the densest, most impenetrable part of the forest to the west of Hogsmeade. The trees grew so thickly that the sky was barely visible once they had landed, and Albus was forced to transfigure his slippers into a pair of extremely stout yellow walking boots to avoid the snapping jaws of the more hostile ground-level flora.

Fawkes fluttered up to a wide branch halfway up a gnarly old oak, where a ball of purple flame was flickering merrily by itself. He beckoned with his head. Albus lifted his robes like a lady preparing to dance at a ball and crunched his way through the undergrowth.

"Is this where you were hiding? What have you been doing out here? I've been so worried…oh!" Peering inside the magical blaze, Dumbledore spotted a smooth, golden ovoid speckled with scarlet spots.

He turned to the bird in amazement.

"You laid an egg!"

Fawkes trilled smugly. Stepping into the burning nest, he lovingly turned the egg over to make sure it was heating evenly and fussed around with the flames until they were arranged to his satisfaction.

Albus laughed in delight. Everything made sense now! The increased aggression which had made Fawkes so anti-social before his disappearance must have been a result of a hormonal urge to reproduce. Phoenixes were such rare and secretive creatures, not much had been written about their breeding habits, but the ancient Greeks had believed that mating season occurred once every three hundred and sixty-six years. The population was understandably small. Another thought occurred to Albus.

"So it's not just male potions masters who can have babies?" he teased.

Fawkes glared.

…….

Exhausted by their ordeal, Severus and Saskia fell asleep soon after being installed in the big four-poster. Molly and Remus had moved the crib out of the nursery and replaced it next to the bed, where it had been for the first two days of the baby's life. Despite this concession to security, both Papa and daughter whimpered with such obvious distress at the attempts that were made to part them, Remus could not bear to do it.

"Babies should never sleep in their parents' beds," chided Molly, after he suggested they just give up.

"I know, but she's more of a cub than a baby at the moment," Lupin reasoned. "I think it would do more harm than good to force them apart."

"You never told me she was a natural animagus," Molly whispered accusingly.

"I didn't know," he admitted, gently petting the top of her fluffy head.

He gazed fondly at the miniature wolf. He felt that Saskia's condition somehow brought them closer together. Snape would always have the intimate bond of having nurtured her inside his body for nine months, but the experience of shifting shapes would be something which only Lupin and Alexandra could share.

After making sure everyone was settled and comfortable, Molly kissed Remus on the cheek and left.

"It wasn't your fault, Remus," she reassured him on her way out.

He turned back to the bed where his mate and cub lay peacefully, wishing he could believe it. The wolf had been trying to warn him that they were in danger and the human had ignored him. The first duty of any parent, above all others, was to protect their young, and today he had failed spectacularly. It was only thanks to Harry and Fawkes that Pettigrew had been overcome. He shuddered at the thought of his little girl in the clutches of the monster who had destroyed the lives of so many people Remus loved.

He could hear Pip and some of the aurors moving around downstairs, tying up loose ends and resetting the wards on the house. It was not enough. Remus needed to make sure his family were completely safe after the terror of the afternoon. Throwing the strongest spells he could think of on the fireplace, door and window, he lay down next to Severus, wand at the ready.

It was still not enough. He draped his wand arm over the potions master's stomach, angled so that his fingers were lightly brushing Saskia's fur. Snape hummed in his sleep and snuggled back against the secure warm presence. Saskia turned her head and sucked on the tip of her Daddy's thumb.

Finally satisfied that all was as it should be, Lupin buried his nose in Snape's greasy hair and cried himself to sleep.

…….

AN: I know I've been messing around with some ancient myths here, but as the whole story is based on messing with nature, I didn't think it would matter! The way I see it, the World's small phoenix population constantly reboot themselves by burning and growing again, though occasionally one will be killed outright. Every 366 years, mating season happens and some – but not all - will get it on and reproduce. As there are so few firebirds, males can lay eggs too. That's my theory and I'm sticking to it!

Duj – thanks for pointing out that bit of plot which I would not have noticed! I hope I wiggled out of it convincingly enough. It takes a lot of effort to activate the Secret Weapon, but not much to re-activate the slime. Such is life. Cackle.

Thanks to everyone for their flattering reviews! I look forward to hearing what you think of this chapter, too! Lots of love, SN x