"It is a legend, my dear, that is all," Professor Cuthbert Binns eyed Lyra through his ghostly spectacles, "Whether or not a sword existed is one thing, but most scholars consider Naegling a product of an old English legend. Too mingled with muggle folklore to extract the truth in any case. Perhaps someone did slay a dragon, it's not like they're immortal creatures."

"But the book says some sort of sword exists," Lyra pulled the book out, carefully setting it down.

"Oh sure, swords exist, and no doubt some sword was used, but I really don't think there was anything particularly magical about that one. You'd have an easier time looking for another sword, and be far more successful. Professor Dumbledore is in possession of the Sword of Gryffindor, perhaps talk to him about your research."

With that, Binns floated away from the conversation, disappearing into the blackboard of his room.

Lyra sighed. She rubbed the beginnings of a headache in her temples, stepping into the flow of students in the corridor. It was almost Halloween, and she was no closer to locating any broken sword than she'd been a few weeks ago. Perhaps Binns had been right, and it was time to have a chat with Dumbledore. Maybe this Sword of Gryffindor could be used, or at least give her an idea of what kind of runes would make an artifact weapon.

"Hello, Professor," a familiar voice said, startling Lyra from her thoughts.

"Fancy meeting you here," its twin added, from her other side.

Fred and George Weasley had managed to annoy their way into her favorites - well, most of the fifth year class had. They were far more interested in the material than either her seventh or sixth years.

"Weasley and Weasley, what can I do for you?"

"We were wondering," began one twin, she was pretty sure was George.

"If, in your infinite wisdom and lovely experience," said the other, likely Fred.

"You have ever worked with food artifacts," finished George again.

Lyra felt her eyebrow raise, "Food artifacts?"

"Like sweets with an effect," said Fred, "Ice mice, for example, make you shiver," he rubbed his arms in demonstration.

"Pepper imps," said George, "With a smoke effect out your ears," he gestured to his own.

"Something between a charm and a transfiguration."

Lyra nodded in understanding, "And if I did have some idea of how to help you, would you turn your homework in on time for the rest of the term?"

Both boys stopped, looking slightly horrified.

"As if we aren't already the top students," Fred placed his hand on his chest dramatically.

"Best in our year," said George.

Lyra didn't respond, but started up the stairs to her office.

The twins exchanged a look behind her.

"Well," said George, "I suppose we could try to get it in on time more often."

"We'd hate to break any promises though," Fred said.

Lyra stopped halfway up the stairs, "Look, you boys make an effort, I'll see about finding some information for you."

Fred and George grinned, giving her dual salutes.

"You can start with the homework due tomorrow," Lyra said, watching the smiles fade slightly, "You have started the essay on transportation artifacts I assigned a week ago, haven't you?"

The boys exchanged slightly panicked looks, and dashed off, shouting "Of course, Professor," over their shoulders.

Lyra sighed. She'd probably get them a few book names anyways. They were really quite intelligent, if you knew what motivated them, and artifacts, particularly joke artifacts, seemed to be it.

By the time she'd made it back to her office, she'd compiled a short list of books in her head for the Weasley twins, and drafted a letter to her colleague at the ministry, Saul Croaker. The man practically had a library of books on artificing in his head, he'd probably know something. In fact, he probably knew something about her mysterious broken sword; she should have thought of him sooner.

Lyra hastily swept a clear space on her desk, and pulled out a quill and piece of parchment from under a stack of books.

Croaker,

Hope all is going well on the home front, and Bode hasn't taken my office. Remind him that if he tries, I'll turn his ears to cabbages. How's the experiment going? Slower without me? Remember what I said about using runes for time preservation as well as reversal, I know you don't think it's worth it, but it is.

You've probably heard, but I'm currently teaching at Hogwarts while the Ministry sorts out its problems. I've a couple of students who are interested in artificing and food. Do you happen to have any book recommendations? They aren't really book learners, but I'm hoping to mitigate chances of explosions.

One of the other good things about this forced sabbatical is the extra time to work on my personal project. In my research I've come across an interesting sword artifact that may be key. Have you heard of Naegling? The history professor here says it's from an old English story, but I'd love to know anything else.

Don't let Jones keep you down.

Cheers,

Lyra

"Come on, Lyra, just a drink or two," Charity Burbage looked at her, eyes wide and imploring. It was Halloween, the first scheduled Hogsmeade weekend, and Burbage was dying for someone to go to town with her.

"I'm not going to hang out with a bunch of teenagers," Lyra said, spreading jam on her toast.

"Well it's not like we can go to the Hog's Head," Burbage frowned, "The barman doesn't wash his glasses properly, I've seen him do it."

"So you're saying we're going to the Three Broomsticks, with all the teenagers," Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"We'll make a thing of it, Aurora and Septima will go if I ask, and Severus and Remus."

"I highly doubt you'll get Severus to leave the dungeons, let alone sit at a table with Remus Lupin," Lyra said, but Burbage ignored her.

"Minerva and Filius are supposed to be on duty at the castle, but Pomona might come. We can frame it as extra security for Hogsmeade, what with Black running about and all."

"Charity…"

"It's settled, that's how we'll do it. Come on, Lyra, you can ask Severus and Remus, I'll get the rest. Be back here in an hour, ready to go," Burbage stood, and Lyra could practically feel the excitement rolling off her.

With a sigh, she looked forlornly at the rest of her breakfast. She didn't have much time if she had to finish getting ready and track down a couple wayward professors.

"Fine," she said, "But you're paying."

Burbage didn't reply; she was halfway out of the Great Hall already.

Lyra went to see Snape first, knowing he'd probably take the most convincing. She knocked on his office door, opening it at a hissed "Enter".

The dungeon office was dim and cool, despite the blazing fire in the hearth. A single tall bookshelf was stuffed to bursting with books and scrolls, and a cauldron bubbled in the corner, spewing greenish fumes. Glass jars of ingredients lined shelves along the wall, most of them disturbingly slimy looking.

"Ah," Snape said, looking up from his desk, "It's you. I was expecting a student."

"Lucky you," Lyra said, moving to stand across from him, "Look, Burbage won't stop with going to Hogsmeade today, please come and save me from having to listen to her talk for hours."

Snape's eyes narrowed, "I don't particularly care to spend my time in the village with a bunch of children."

"I don't think Burbage particularly cares about what you care about."

"Burbage never grew out of being a fifteen year old Hufflepuff prefect."

Lyra raised an eyebrow, "That's a bit harsh, it's just a couple drinks in the village."

He dipped his quill, looking back down at the parchment he was writing, "Is Lupin going?"

"I haven't asked him yet, I wanted to talk to you first. I imagine he might go though."

"I have to watch this potion, it's at a tricky stage," Snape gestured to the cauldron in the corner, the green fumes curling and puffing like they were being buffeted by wind.

"Alright then," Lyra sighed, "I'll tell Burbage you were too much of a coward to deal with a teenage bully," She turned to leave, but felt a hand grab her wrist.

Snape had dropped his quill, leaving a blob of ink to pool on his parchment. He was standing, face still, eyes glittering dangerously.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"Merlin, Severus, is this how you react to everyone? No wonder you're a thirteen-year-old's worst fear," Lyra shook her wrist, trying to take her arm back.

"Don't call me a coward," his fingers tightened.

"Let go of me," she shook her wrist again. This was not what she'd been expecting. As a teen, getting a rise out of Snape had been the easiest way to get him to do what you wanted. Among his fellow Slytherins, he'd been pliable that way, it was almost certainly how he fell in with the crowd that he had.

"You don't get to call me that, when you sat around refusing to pick a side."

So that's what this was about.

"I'm not rehashing my decisions with you right now, Severus, I just wanted to get a drink," Lyra tried to keep her voice still, even as panic rose in her chest, "Clearly I've touched a nerve, and I'm sorry."

He still wasn't letting go, and other memories were starting to flicker through her mind. Rosier gripping her in a similar fashion while she learned they were engaged. Regulus pulling her behind him while Sirius and their mother rowed.

"At least both your brothers chose, even if Regulus changed his mind at the end. I can't imagine what that must have done to your mother," Snape continued, almost like he read her mind. It was clear that thirteen years of repressed emotion was bubbling under the surface.

"Enough," Lyra said, loud enough to echo around the chamber, "You're crossing a line, Severus, I really don't think you want to go any further," she twisted her wrist, jerking it through his fingers with a downward motion. It slid out of his grasp, and she took a step back.

"All I wanted was to ask you to come to Hogsmeade," she swallowed, still repressing the shake in her voice, "Clearly you're not coming, I'll pass on your regards," she took another step back.

Snape's hands were shaking slightly, eyes like glittering black beetles in the flickering firelight. He didn't say anything.

Lyra backed out of the room entirely, keeping her eyes on him until she could shut his office door.

She waited until she was three floors up to pause and let out a shaky breath. She leaned against the wall, breathing slowly, settling her heart rate. Her wrist was red, the outline of fingers visible, but she didn't think it would bruise.

"Idiot," Lyra muttered to herself, pushing off the wall and beginning to head to Lupin's office. She'd been too comfortable, treated him like they were still in school where he was just an unpopular kid who could be made to do what she wanted. The war had changed all that. No one was the same, especially those who'd been in the thick of it.

She reached the door to Lupin's office just in time to see him hefting a large tank holding a pale green creature. She gestured with her wand, opening the door, and stood back to let him pass.

"Thanks," he said, setting the tank down with surprising ease, "Grindylow, for the third years; their curriculum is largely creature based."

Lyra nodded, "Hence the boggart incident."

"Indeed. Not one of my brighter moments, but there you go," Lupin leaned against his desk, "Did you need something?"

"Er, sort of," Lyra watched the Grindylow swim around it's tank, taking in the surroundings, "Charity is trying to make a thing out of some of the professors going to Hogsmeade, she wanted me to ask you to come."

Lupin seemed surprised, "She wanted me there?"

"You are a professor, are you not? And you're not on duty this weekend," Lyra looked at him, touching her wrist absently, "But I don't want to force you to do anything."

"No," he said quickly, "I'll come, I just have a few things to take care of first. I'll try to make it for lunch?"

"We'll be at the Three Broomsticks, apparently the barman at the Hog's Head doesn't clean well enough for Charity."

He nodded, "I'll see you there."

When she made it back to the Great Hall, Charity Burbage was already waiting, Aurora Sinistra and Septima Vector with her.

"What took you?" Burbage asked, "No Severus or Remus?"

"Lupin may come for lunch," Lyra said, "Severus is a git."

"I could have told you that," Vector said, "He never comes to these, he's always too busy brooding."

"It's Halloween," Sinistra said, "He hates Halloween. Never understood why, he certainly dresses the part."

"It's the anniversary of the fall of You-Know-Who," Burbage said, leading the small group out the front doors, "Many people have complicated feelings about that."

Of course it was. The fall of the Dark Lord was likely a very complicated subject to Snape. His comments about the war and choosing a side were beginning to make sense. Her wrist twinged.

"He's still a git," Lyra said.