June 5, 1976 — Hogwarts

When Severus had begged himself to stop obsessing over Lily, to find something else to latch on to, he had not meant this — laying in his bed, unable to focus on his studies, replying the memory he'd seen in Cassiopeia's mind over and over again, incapable of stopping.

At least his traitorous mind limited these visions to his private moments — he retained just enough control over his faculties that he could meet Cassiopeia's gaze, and pretend, at least sometimes, that he was unaffected.

It seemed obvious to him that she saw right through this act, but thankfully she did not comment. It even seemed, sometimes, that she found his helplessness and the way he was affected funny, rolling her eyes once when she caught his eyes straying to her, cheeks flushed.

Not that she would be so blasé, of course, if she knew of the thoughts that crept up from the recesses of his mind — saw the hand that strayed downwards in the darkness of the night before he stopped himself, harshly.

He would die before he let her find out.

June 6, 1976 — Hogwarts

For all the airs she put on around Severus, desperate to smooth the situation over as much as she could, a kind of panic still gripped her as she saw him, for days afterward.

She didn't know what to feel: never, would she have thought to reveal such a thing on purpose, of course not, and yet…

Seeing the strangled way in which Severus acted around her, none of his usual smoothness and surety present, gave her a lovely feeling of control — it felt good, to see how affected he was by —

A few seconds of a fantasy. A wizard dreamed up by her mind, intelligent, attractive, and kind, who wanted her.

Of course, if she could, she'd have erased the entire incident from both of their minds. It was an unwelcome distraction, as the two of them crammed knowledge into their mind for their OWLs, coming up in just a few, short days.

She was already tired and exhausted, her head aching from the hours she spent pouring over books. It was perhaps the worst moment for such a thing to happen, and yet also, perhaps, the best. Worried over their upcoming tests, and the end of the school year, it was easier not to dissect every moment of their interactions, to dedicate a considerable portion of her mind to worrying about what he thought.

June 12, 1976 — Hogwarts

Cassiopeia collapsed onto her bed, almost willing to weep with relief. Her head hurt, her entire body felt weak and shaky, but could finally breathe — the weight of exams which had hung on her since a month back finally easing.

There would be three more days of classes after tomorrow, as the younger students and sixth-years completed their end of the year exams. Then, a week of utter freedom, before the Hogwarts Express arrived to take them… home.

Perhaps it was her overwrought state, but the word brought a pang of… something… to her heart. She didn't want to examine it —

She shut her mind's walls against the unwelcome thoughts before relaxing into the mattress, her mind thankfully blank.

June 18, 1976 — Hogwarts

"Mr. Snape."

Severus jolted, just stopping a curse from leaving his lips. Professor Sayre stood before him, arms crossed, distinctly meeting his gaze, in a way which should not have been possible given his current, disillusioned state.

"Might I inquire as to what you're doing, spying on the entrance to the Headmaster's office?"

Severus paused for a moment, letting his eyes drift to the side, seeing if she would follow his gaze.

No. Just a trick, then. He felt relieved. "I assume you won't accept, 'I was just bored.'?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Snape," she said, amused.

"Could I ask how you knew I was here?" he asked, stalling for time.

"The slight shimmer gives you away. Most people wouldn't notice, but," she shrugged, "it caught my eye. I've also seen you wandering up here four times already, so it seemed like a safe bet to make."

Severus nodded, impressed, even as he cursed himself for not noticing her own spying. "Alright. Well, I saw an acquaintance going up there," he explained. "It seemed strange, so I thought I'd see what's going on."

"And?"

"Nothing, as of yet. I thought if they didn't come down in three minutes' time, I'd let it go."

"Hmm," the professor murmured, eyeing the entrance to the office with interest. "I'll leave you to it, then, Mr. Snape. Good luck."

"Thank you, Professor," he replied, watching carefully as she swept away. It was only when minutes had passed, and he'd swept the corridor with a 'Homenum Revelio,' that he allowed himself to relax, shaking his head at the strange interaction.

Of course, it had been a lie, and as far as he knew none of the people he would consider 'acquaintances' had even set foot in this hallway. What sparked his interest, instead, had been a Hufflepuff — bright eyed and eager, scurrying up the steps after hastily checking that nobody could see her.

It had been only Gryffindors before, and if this was what he thought…

Approximately fifteen minutes later, the girl stepped down from the stairs, and he did not hesitate as he breathed the spell, slipping into her mind. Carefully, he stayed at the very edges of her consciousness — recent memories floated around, and he eyed them with disinterest as he searched out what he wanted.

He knew the memory had to be near, and his suspicions were raised as each time he neared a certain light, he was hit by a compulsion to look away, to ignore it, to find something else.

He pushed past the urge, wondering if this was what Muggles would feel if they were to stumble upon Hogwarts. It felt like attempting to run through honey, each step almost an eternity long, his entire body fighting the movement, but eventually he was close enough to reach out, and grab it —

He was thrown back against the corridor wall, his head slamming against the rough stone. He hissed in pain, unable to control the sound. Through his blurry eyes he saw the Hufflepuff move past him, only pausing for a moment at his noise before continuing on, seemingly oblivious.

He thanked Merlin for her inobservance as he brought his hand to the back of his head, wincing as he saw streaks of blood paint his fingertips. He blinked back the tears and cleaned his hand, allowing his body to calm.

What the fuck had that been?

"You've really got to be more careful," Cassiopeia cautioned,as she disinfected the cut. When he'd shown her the back of his head, he'd expected a directive to visit the Infirmary, but instead she'd just sighed, grabbing her wand and summoning her favourite book of healing spells. "Did you not consider she could have mental blocks?"

"That's the thing… they weren't hers. I'm certain of it. There are few people I know of who could create such a strong barrier in their minds. Certainly not an excitable Hufflepuff with no formal training to speak of," he explained, before wincing in pain at the momentary burn of his skin.

He sensed Cassiopeia's question even before she'd opened her mouth, and added: "She has an unknown, Muggle surname, and she wears trainers. The chance that she'd even heard of Occlumency is negligible. And she's a Hufflepuff, for Merlin's sake."

Cassiopeia sighed, her fingers lingering in his hair just a second more than necessary before she gestured for him to stand up. "Dumbledore, then."

"Likely," he responded, giving her a grateful nod, and sitting opposite her.

"He's being careful with information…" she shrugged. "It's not like we have much time to find anything out, anyway."

"Four days until freedom," Severus smiled, though apprehension twisted in his stomach. "You'll write me, won't you?"

"Of course," she said easily, then quietly added, after a moment. "Are you certain you'll want to stay at Spinner's End?"

He nodded, trying to project certainty he did not feel. "It'll be good to see Eileen. Besides, with Tobias in jail everything should be quiet."

"And if he's let go early?"

"I doubt he will be."

Cassiopeia looked him over, her brow furrowing. "If you ever need anything — anything, Severus, call Tully. I've told her to listen out for you. She can take you to the cottage, or she can tell Narcissa that something's wrong. Please."

"Alright, if you're sure."

"Of course I am. And if — " she looked away for a moment, composing herself. "I know it probably won't happen, but if you could convince Eileen to leave… the cottage is open to you both, at all times."

Severus reached out to grasp her hand. "I'll try, but — "

"I know," she replied, her fingers entwining with his.

June 22, 1976 — Platform 9 and 3/4

Cassiopeia descended from the train with Severus at her side.

Though they'd been some of the first to leave, the platform was already crowded — loud and bustling, filled with smiling parents greeting their children, the air overflowing with calls of names and excitable shouts.

Eileen had written to inform them that she'd be waiting off to the side, away from the worst of the congregation, so the two of them pushed past, smiles breaking out almost simultaneously on their faces as they noticed Eileen's tall, dark figure hidden in the back.

She held out her hands for the two of them, and Cassiopeia couldn't help the tightness in her throat and she curled into 'Leen's embrace, the warmth of her skin and her light, homely scent almost impossibly soothing.

"I've missed you, dears," she said simply, after they had pulled away. She looked older, Cassiopeia noticed; tired and much too thin.

"I'm glad you were able to come, Ma," Severus replied, a little of his childhood accent slipping into his speech.

"Of course," Eileen murmured, before her kind gaze turned to Cassiopeia. "I'm glad you've got a place to stay, Cassie. Take care of yourself and write, alright?"

"I will," she promised, and Eileen nodded.

"Good. I'm sorry we can't talk more, but we've got to get back to the taxi. You'll be alright waiting for Professor McGonagall, won't you?"

"I will; she'll be here in only a few minutes."

"Wonderful," Eileen said, then leaned down to encircle her once more in an embrace. "I hope I'lll see you soon again, darling," she murmured. "If you ever need anything, just write."

"Thank you," she whispered, and Eileen pulled away with a sad smile, before taking Severus' trunk, and gesturing for him to join her.

The two of them waved as they walked away, and she watched their every step — a pit growing in her stomach — before they disappeared back into the crowd.

"Cassiopeia," Minerva called quietly, startling her. The platfrom was almost empty now, and her professor had apparated just feet from her.

"Professor," she smiled, grabbing her trunk. For a second, she had been startled by her appearance — her silver-brown hair down in loose curls, and her grey robes light and airy.

"Have you apparated before?"

"A few times."

"Good, this'll be easy then. Grab my hand, and hold on to your trunk," she instructed, and as when their fingers touched she counted down: "Three, two, one."

The sensation of apparition was as awful as ever — she doubted she'd ever get used to it — but this time, at least, she did not fall to her knees when they arrived, instead only needing a second to compose herself.

"Oh, your home is lovely, Minerva," she exclaimed, taking in the sight: a grey brick building with large windows and a dark roof, and before it a sprawling gardens in which they stood, an agglomeration of colourful flowers and imposing trees.

"Thank you, darling. My parents bought it when they married," she explained, as they walked up the stairs to the door. "It's only me who lives here now, but most everyone else in the family is still close by."

She opened the door with a smile, leading her inside. "I thought perhaps that I might invite them to meet you, if you would like. They'd be delighted to get to know my favourite student."

Cassiopeia bit her lip, setting down her trunk, and taking off her shoes. "If you feel that they'd want to, then… I'm not opposed."

"Wonderful," Minerva nodded, before gesturing to follow her. "Let me show you to your room."

Though considerably smaller than the Malfoys' manor, Cassiopeia thought, the house was nearly as impressive. The polished wood floors and earthy tones of the walls gave off an air of both elegance and homeliness, and the dark, tasteful furniture she observed was masterfully crafted.

The room she would stay in, the first on the second floor, Minerva explained to be her own childhood bedroom.

"That there is the bathroom, and just across is Robert and Malcolm's old room," she described. "Feel free to explore."

Minerva's old room had been made up simply; a dark bed stood in its centre, with a writing desk, and bookshelf off to the side. A window looking out onto the garden let in the light, supplementing a small, wrought-iron chandelier on the ceiling.

"Make yourself at home," she said with a smile and added, knowingly: "Read as many of the books as you'd like."

"Thank you."

"Of course, lass. You can't know how happy I am to have you here," she said. "Let me go down and make something for dinner while you get yourself settled, alright? Then we can talk about what you'd like to do."

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you."

Minerva gave a smile, and disappeared downstairs.

"Malcolm has one of his own," Minerva conversed, as they enjoyed the salad she had prepared. "Lila. She's just turned eight. Robert's only twenty-five, so he's just recently moved out and got his own house, just a mile from here."

"Are they all… magical?" Cassiopeia asked carefully. She wasn't certain, but it seemed to be a bit of a touchy subject with Minerva.

"Yes. Everyone in my family is, save for my father's line," she answered, not seeming too bothered. "This whole town, really, is split about half and half."

"Oh, that's interesting. Do you know why that is?"

"Hmm," she contemplated. "I can't be sure, but I believe I've read somewhere that the centre of the town used to be a popular spot for rituals. I assume the Muggles were already living somewhere here beforehand."

She tilted her head. "I'd love to learn more about that."

Minerva nodded. "One of the books in your room should be about the town's history. If it's not, you can try the library — it's just off the sitting room."

"Thank you."

"No need, lass. My house is yours. I'd only ask you not to disturb me in my bedroom, unless something is wrong. Oh, and some of the plants in the garden can be dangerous, so just be careful."

"Alright."

"I'm sure Lila would be happy to show you around the grounds tomorrow. She's very bright for eight, though — we'll go into town in a couple of days for food, so hopefully you'll meet someone there your own age, hmm?"

Cassiopeia ducked her head. "Yes," she murmured, and Minerva laughed.

"After that, we'll start your studies. I think, maybe we could begin with perfecting your animagus? Then we could move to the more theoretical areas — you're making more progress than I'd expected."

"Really?" she asked, genuinely surprised. "It doesn't often feel like it."

"Oh, trust me lass I know. My own apprenticeship was such drudgery… and to add to the pain, I couldn't stand my Master. I hope that's not the case with you…?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Of course not."

"I'm glad," she replied with an easy smile. "It really is lovely to have you here, Cassiopeia, I'm glad we made the plan."

"Oh?" she asked. She wasn't sure, but there seemed to be something her Master wasn't saying.

Minerva shook her head. "The Headmaster has been bothering me throughout the last week, asking me to stay at Hogwarts. I think I told him no a hundred times, but he finally relented when I explained I'd barely seen my family in years," she said said, sending her a small smile, but Cassiopeia's unease was only riled by her words.

"Does he… know that I'll be staying with you?"

"No. I've been careful not to tell him."

Cassiopeia pursed her lips, feeling a sinking suspicion as to what had occurred. When Minerva looked at her curiously, however, she shook her head. "I think — no, I'll tell you later."

Minerva didn't press her further, instead gesturing for her continue to eat. Cassiopeia did so, giving Minerva smile to conceal her unrest.