Dear All,

Thank you for the follows and special thanks for all the reviews both to excessivelyperky and Georgia, you are unbelievably kind and I'm grateful.

There was an accident in my close family, which demanded my attention lately, so I couldn't work on the story in the last few weeks. This short piece moves the story along and also serves to sign my intention to go on now, with having my chores done in real life, I'll have more time to focus here too. Please hang on for just a little more, i will not abandon this, only needed some time.

Of course, HP is still Rowling's.

So,

Intermezzo

"Good morning, Headmistress!"

Severus, wrapped in his Occlumency, swirling magic, and his teaching robe that served like an armour against the world, made an effort to order his features in a friendly manner. He could see Minerva pulling her nose up and away – it was almost entertaining enough to help him find his usual self.

The Great Hall was buzzing with the students' morning chatter. A look at the Slytherin table, and he noticed that several faces turned towards him in either silent question or a greeting. He should find the time to tell them that Montague would recover.

Severus reached for his tea. His colleagues around the table carried on in their usual manner, only touching upon the issue of the weather and Quidditch. Pomona boldly even tried to mix the two! As little as Flitwick could add to the conversation, the tiny nuisance felt encouraged to join in. Severus found even the attempt ridiculous, knowing how far behind Ravenclaw was that year. Not that it mattered.

"Minerva, you have quite a seeker as I hear, but she's not as good as Potter," – the tiny wizard squeaked. "If the weather holds, and Hufflepuff makes just one mistake, we might even steal the cup this year!"

Severus snorted but didn't bother to look up. Minerva, of course, couldn't stand it:

"Don't be ridiculous, Filius. Ravenclaw wouldn't win the Cup if my whole team came down with dragon-pox."

"And we won't make a mistake," – Pomona added. "When was the Cup last time placed in your office?" – she provoked.

"Probably the diadem was still at its place then," – Severus suggested dryly, seeing an opportunity to cut under the Charms Master and also to speak his mind. He didn't have much else to think about since he'd left the Hogs Head in the early morning.

It was worth the effort to speak up; Flitwick went into a rare fit.

"How dare you!" – The tiny Professor's face changed into a dangerous shade of purple, with pale spots around the edges. "Rowena Ravenclaw's heritage is not a joking matter, and I will have you know that Ravenclaw held both the House and the Quidditch Cup for six years in a row in the 1920s!"

"Pity, you couldn't repeat the miracle ever since," – Minerva let it slip with malice, but she soon added on a more placating tone: "Of course, Severus shouldn't have commented on the diadem, we all know what a raw spot it has always been to your House."

"Indeed," – Flitwick agreed, trying to calm down with deep sighs and taking a splash of marmalade to have it cheerfully sliding side on his toast. "Our Founder was an exceptional witch, with powers unmatched ever since. A shame she had to leave this shadowland without her daughter or her wonderful adornment at her side… poor soul came down with her deathly sickness when she'd lost both dears to her. Again, a crying shame" – he sighed and bit into his toast.

Severus wryly pushed on: "Would it have seemed witty to search for them instead."

"Severus!" – Minerva flashed a warning look at him, but Flitwick was worked up enough to answer.

"You believe she didn't? Ask your Bloody Baron why the Grey Lady hates him! You're as uncouth this morning as your house ghost, I have to say!" – Flitwick turned away affronted.

Seeing Minerva's what-was-that-good-for-look, Severus only shrugged. Now he had a good hunch that Flitwick didn't know much about the diadem, contrary to what the Headmaster seemed to have believed, but he also learned that the tiny wizard would begin his quest with interrogating the house ghosts. Probably he'd already done so. He wondered if there was any good repeating his line of queries. However, Flitwick surely couldn't make the Baron talk, as the Head of Slytherin, only Severus had a chance for that, but it seemed ridiculous to ask.

It was a Friday, so at least it began and finished with NEWT classes, which should have been moderately good news had Severus any inclination to teach at all. As it was, he didn't even want to be in the country, especially not at Hogwarts! And his Slytherins should have been the easiest to handle. But, alas, they grated on his nerves. Heavily.

When he had a turn in the Common Room, Padgett looked at him through glassy teen-girl eyes, which always could chase him to the edge of the world. Green and Travers hung on all his words, and Jugson looked at him like Merlin incarnated. The religious devotion the dolt showed, mimicking his moves and following his instructions later in class, was almost laughable. Severus didn't even dare to imagine what his students gossiped about him, but Higgs and Pucey behaved almost as strangely at the end of the day as their seventh years began.

Bugger, once, just once, you cover openly for your students, and they act as if they have found a leader to guide them through the depths of hell! Severus didn't feel like Virgil at all and would have been happier just to get quickly through the most normal day possible to save any additional thoughts. He wanted to focus. The sooner he found that wretched headdress, the sooner he could go on unmasking himself as the fool who attacked the Dark Lord's snake. Sweet Merlin, he had déjà vu!

Severus was fully aware that his discontentment lashed out, carrying the worst of him. Prout felt it when his phial mysteriously blew to shreds in his hand, splatting the product of his double class all over the floor, just after he smiled smugly at the Hufflepuff girl. Two third-year Ravenclaw girls felt it also when they got detention with Filch for giggling in the Entrance Hall. Various students felt it too, who lost points from their houses, as they understood mostly for breathing, and those fourth years who'd thought they had found a retired corner of the sixth floor to duel before he found them definitely felt it.

Of course, everyone cursed his name and not even his Slytherins dared to show themselves, although he doubted they would have guessed the correct reason behind his foul mood. One hour before curfew Severus could stroll through Hogwarts without seeing any more students than an unlucky first-year Hufflepuff who scurried into a lavatory as soon as he'd seen Professor Snape's robes billow onto the corridor.

When he felt too knackered to even attempt to go on, he called Hogwarts: A History from his bookshelves and nestled in his favourite armchair. There must be something about Ravenclaw's story that had escaped his notice throughout the years. He wasn't yet through the second page when the lack of rest began to crawl up his spine, making his head heavy and wishing to just lean back and let his thoughts roam free. A coffee would have been welcomed but calling Chubby was out of the question.

Severus soldiered on and perused the first chapter – for about the hundredth time – without finding any new information at all. Dumbledore's words about Sage and her possible dark leanings echoed in his head as he attacked the second chapter. The voices he remembered mixed now with Lucius' and Aberforth's opinion, and the words in front of him danced around the page. The third chapter filled up with Sage's softly said offer to prove to him she was fine…. The letters blurred in the book, and the objects around him seemed to liquidize and pour out of their shapes. Shadows of the night awakened to life and haunted his room like real creatures, and his consciousness escaped into a slumber from his surging nausea.

Severus stood alone on a foothold of an island in the middle of the ocean under a starless night sky. He could feel the mud under his feet, its unhealthy smell in his nostrils, but he couldn't see jackshit in the darkness, and when he cried out for help, he couldn't hear his own voice, as if the dark nothing absorbed the light and all the sound. Standing there helpless and alone, Severus sank into despair, and when the last spark of hope left him, suddenly he saw a tiny dot of light. It came from his left, from as far away as the other side of the ocean, but with some effort, he eventually could make out the form of a young woman, holding a torch.

The light grew until it shone bright enough to chase away a part of the darkness, and the torch illuminated the young woman who held it. Severus cried her name at the top of his lungs, but Lily obviously couldn't hear him. She was too far and the darkness above the ocean too thick. He tried to step closer, but he was afraid to step into the waves. It didn't seem to be water, rather something threatening, deep and invincible. He felt it would smother him if he tried to go through. Uselessly he tried an apology, but that was also swallowed up into the darkness.

The torch's light shone a narrow path through the darkness, until it fell on another woman. She stood on his right at the other side of the ocean, pulled her bare feet under her Beauxbatons-blue skirt, sitting down calmly. Severus hastily took a step towards her too, but the smothering sensation returned as soon as his feet reached the waves. There was nothing he could think of to help here, he didn't have his wand on him, and he couldn't reach his magic to come to his aid. Not this time. And the small island began to sink under his feet….

Lightning crossed through the sky, accompanied by a loud crack of thunder. It took some moments for Severus to realize that the sound came from his book, hitting the floor. It still wasn't yet dawn. Feeling cold and now disgusted by even the idea of falling back to sleep, Severus began to read Hogwarts: A History again.