He was uncertain how long he stood by the window, lost in memories and regrets, but when he finally came to himself, Rachel was no longer curled up on the lawn. He looked over the grounds, hoping to spot her. He thought it best to apologize soon, and hoped that enough time had passed so that she would not think that Albus had simply ordered him to tell her that he was sorry.

And, Severus thought, if he didn't apologize soon, he might well lose his nerve. Finally, he spotted a lone figure walking by the lake and, taking a deep, steadying breath, began to make his way in that direction.

Though the thought did not halt his approach, he'd a terrible feeling that he was about to make a complete arse of himself. He had no clue how to go about this apology business. At the moment, the only thing he could think of to say was, 'Erm, sorry…thought you were planning to sexually assault me. It seems I may have been incorrect.'

Despite his limited practical experience, Severus did at least know that it was generally considered unwise to apologize to a woman, offend her, and make her think you were barking mad all at once.

All too soon, he located her. She was sitting right at the edge of the lake. He crept silently toward her, stopping about 20 feet away. She sat cross-legged with her chin resting in the palm of her hand. Her other hand was lazily tracing circles in the water. Severus took a few moments to really study her. He couldn't see much of her mother in Rachel's face. Last night, though, her eyes had held the very same warmth, compassion and humor that her mother's had held so many years ago.

Severus let his gaze wander over her clothing, wondering if she had intentionally dressed in Slytherin colors. Well, her blouse wasn't really the right shade of green, but the necklace was very…dammit! Even at a distance, Severus knew when he was looking at pure silver.

He had truly misread her intentions. He'd assumed that she'd simply been trying to look attractive, and succeeding brilliantly, his brain helpfully supplied. But she'd walked into that office wearing jewelry that would cause her serious injury if she changed forms. She must have been trying to put him at ease, assure him that she didn't want to him to feel intimidated. He silently cursed himself for being such a bloody bastard, for though he was loath to admit it, prejudice had blinded him to the truth.

Perhaps he'd not been entirely silent, Severus realized, for Rachel sat up straight and turned red-rimmed eyes in his direction. Well, that put an end to the stalling, he thought. He closed the distance between them as Rachel unfolded herself and stood up.

"Miss Ayanami, I wish to apologize. My behavior this morning was most inappropriate."

Rachel nodded, though there was still something fragile about in her stance, and whispered, "Yes it was." She dropped her head for a moment, and when she raised it again, her eyes were wary. "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he replied. Now she'd ask him if Albus had sent him out…

"Which tribe are you related to?"

His sharp intake of breath undoubtedly told her that such a question had not been anticipated. Nevertheless, Severus looked her in the eye and replied. "The Shadow Lords."

Rachel winced, then nodded. "I forgive you, and I understand."

She understood? Was that pity? He searched the hazel depths of her eyes, but found only compassion and sadness. "You remind me very much of your mother," he said, unable to stop the words from escaping.

"I…what?"

Well, he thought, it was too late to take that back, but perhaps the slip-up could work to his advantage. "After you excused yourself, Albus mentioned your mother's name. She led an Advanced Potions seminar during my seventh year. She was…a kind person."

The explanation earned him a sweet smile, then a look of comprehension. Good, he'd hoped he wouldn't be forced to spell out his apology for misunderstanding her intentions.

"Yeah, she is quite a lady. So, when do you want to start tackling the forest? And would you mind if we began with a quick pass through so I can get a feel for where the real problem areas are?"

Rachel's professional manner chased away the last of Severus' worries, and he decided to attempt to be pleasant. "That would be acceptable, and I am free for the remainder of the day."

"Well, I'd like to grab a couple of weapons from my room, just in case, then I'll be ready."

"Mmm, I will procure a few potions, as you say, just in case." Though he said nothing, Severus thought it odd that she wished to carry weapons, as she could easily shift into her war-form…Crinos, he believed it was called, should anything attack them. Most, if not all of the dark creatures in the forest would run in terror were they faced with a giant wolf-man creature with 2 inch claws and a mouthful of sharp teeth.

"You're probably wondering why I need weapons when I'm already a walking Cuisinart."

"Cuisinart?"

"Oh, sorry, 'muggle' thing. Food processor, lots of blades, slices and dices things into little bitty pieces. I'd be wondering if I were you, at least."

Well, as long as he was trying to get along with her, he may as well admit it. "Yes, it crossed my mind."

"Well, I generally prefer to remain in homid form unless I have to change to something tougher. And there's no need for the creatures in the forest to know what they're up against so soon. Albus also said that most of the creatures should be captured alive, and while absolutely the form of choice for reducing your enemies to tiny bits, Crinos lacks the subtlety and grace generally required for taking them alive. And besides, do you have any idea how difficult it is to speak English when your head's all wolf-shaped?"

Rachel paused to let that sink in. "I can speak the Garou language of course, and there are translation spells, but I can guarantee that any you know will work only on human languages. So, we also lose communication if I shift to Crinos."

"All excellent points. Might I recommend, however, that you leave the hazardous neckwear behind, just as a precaution for unforeseen emergencies?"

Rachel's hand went to her throat, and she grinned wryly. "I was going for a not-intimidating sort of look. In hindsight, though, it would apparently have gone better if I'd just walked in and announced that the Shadow Lords are a bunch of evil, psychotic bastards."

Severus couldn't help it, he grinned. It could have been worse – he'd nearly chuckled. "Indeed, it might well have."

Rachel's eyes went wide when he grinned, and she looked as though she'd just solved a particularly frustrating problem. "I'm so stupid!" she exclaimed. "You usually use charms to alter your appearance, don't you?"

Severus was shocked, to say the least. "Are telling me that you only just realized?"

"What? I only met you yesterday. I'd assumed that you looked better because you got a good night's sleep and you weren't in pain any more. And it's not like you look like a whole new person. I mean, your skin tone looks better, but you're still as pale as I am, and that's saying something. Your hair's clean, but you're still in dire need of a stylist. Your teeth, though, Ron just couldn't shut up about how…" Rachel trailed off. A moment later she continued, her tone matter-of-fact. "You know what, I'm gonna stop talking now."

It took Severus every ounce of willpower he possessed not to laugh at the mortified look on Rachel's reddening face. She was hardly the first person to suggest that he needed his hair cut. Her embarrassment, though, was likely due to her mention of Weasley.

The thought of her time with the Weasleys piqued his curiosity. "Yes, I assume Mr. Weasley had a great deal to say about…my teeth. I must say, as you have apparently spent time in his company, I am surprised that you've not begun shouting at me yet."

Severus was amazed when instead of embarrassed, Rachel looked shocked and hurt.

"Why, because you're so nasty to Harry 'action-before-thought' Potter?" Rachel closed her eyes, rubbing the space between them. "Sounds like a decent enough kid, don't get me wrong, but at the same time…God, he sounds like a nightmare," she muttered.

Rachel shook her head and opened her eyes. At Severus' dumbfounded look, she continued. "What, you thought I'd trust a teenager's opinion of an adult? As I'm sure you expect, Ron told me that you are an unimaginable bastard, but he also told me about how wonderful he thinks Hagrid is, and then went on to regale me with stories of his shockingly irresponsible, not to mention profoundly stupid, behavior. Now, don't get me wrong, Hagrid sounds like a nice man, but what kind of idiot allows 13 year old children within 20 yards of a single Hippogriff, let alone within biting distance of a flock of the damned things! If I'd had anything to say about it, he'd have been fired so fast his head would have spun. Honestly, a teacher should really have more than two brain cells to rub together. And," she said, pointing a finger at Severus, "don't even get me started about that a-hole Sirius Black! I mean, hello, could Harry have a worse role model than a jackass with Peter Pan syndrome and an apparent degree in action-before-thought?"

Well, Severus thought, now she's yelling. Weasley's cousin ranting about Hagrid being an irresponsible moron, which was a harsher description than even he'd have used, and subsequent slur against Black was finally just too much to take. For the first time in well over a decade, Severus Snape doubled over laughing.

He was unsure how long he laughed; judging by the soreness in his face, it was a fair amount of time. When he finally pulled himself together, he caught Rachel's eye and said, "You're hardly the first to come to such an opinion about Black, though I believe 'arrogant twit' was your mother's description of choice."

"Yeah, that sounds like her. I can't wait to talk to her tonight, " Rachel replied, giggling.

The next few weeks were a blur of activity for Rachel.

She spoke with her mother at length, ironing out details. Her mother decided the girls could attend Hogwarts, as Rachel would be there to protect them, but had insisted that they arrive in England early. If they were to be attending Hogwarts, Mrs. Ayanami demanded that her girls be prepared. It had been worked out with Albus, and Darcy and Leah would spend the last three weeks of the summer at Order headquarters, learning what they could about Voldemort and the current political situation.

Mrs. Ayanami had also been delighted to hear that Severus Snape would be teaching her daughters, gushing that she had never seen a greater talent for Potions before or since. She also had a few choice things to say about Sirius Black, which pretty much mirrored what Severus had said about him. Rachel really wasn't looking forward to meeting the guy…and at the same time had a nagging suspicion that Pascale was going to fall all over him.

Rachel spoke with Aton, Pascale and John almost daily by floo, email or phone, and as it appeared that Pascale did like Sirius, Rachel held her tongue about him. And Aton sent Rachel a completed 'wand' by owl post (Maple, 11 inches, with a core of magpie spirit) along with a note that suggested she leave the fetish-making to the people who didn't irritate every spirit they tried to communicate with. Though she tried to feel indignant about the slight, Rachel just couldn't manage it. Aside from technological spirits, which she really had a way with, Aton really wasn't wrong.

And Severus… It had been so long since she really got to know someone new. For the past four years, her social circle had consisted of family, her pack, and a couple of close friends. Though she had many acquaintances, she simply hadn't allowed herself to get attached to anyone new in a long while.

Getting to know him had been exhilarating. Though Ron's assertion that Severus hated everyone had proved incorrect, Rachel had no difficulty seeing where people could come to that conclusion. He generally had more negative than positive to say about any given person, the only exceptions being people he didn't know well. After a while, though, Rachel began to recognize the difference between the casual digs against those he cared about and the verbal bashing of those he despised.

Learning to read him was another thing altogether. She only managed to surprise him into reacting to her for a few days; after that his control came back with a vengeance.

Over the course of the following weeks, Rachel applied herself to learning the clues that would give him away – subtle facial ticks, changes in his posture or breathing pattern, etc. Creating a database, she catalogued all her findings, and dedicated the first hour of every day to analyzing the data. While working on the project, Rachel found herself immensely grateful that Pascale wasn't around, as she really didn't want to have to listen to the 'Rachel, you really need to deal with your neuroses and obsessive personality' lecture again. Pascale could lecture all she wanted, but Rachel almost had him figured out.

Severus was quite witty and surprisingly funny as well. His wit was rather mocking, but no more so than Pascale's. And though he did tend make her blush, Severus, unlike Pascale, wasn't the biggest pervert ever to walk the earth.

Rather, he was intensely cerebral. Not only was he a walking library with regards to Potions and D.A.D.A., he seemed to be rather knowledgeable about just about everything else…unless the topic of discussion strayed from the wizarding world. Then he was totally clueless. But Rachel was getting a feeling that the head in the sand thing was pretty indicative of a societal norm.

That being the case, Rachel started working on a plan to bring at least some American normalcy to Hogwarts, as she knew that poor Darcy would lose her mind trapped without movies or television for ten months. Yeah, it was totally altruistic…in no way about herself.

A perfect space presented itself when Albus asked her where she wanted her office to be located. As she had no desire to have an office, but would find the space useful, she told him she wanted it to be accessible from inside her dojo. From there, the planning stage began. With her parents' help, Rachel was able to acquire everything she needed to create the perfect sanctuary from culture shock. She kept what she was doing to herself, as she wanted to surprise Severus with the finished product…even if he hated it.

The rest of Rachel's energy had been going to practicing her fake wand movements and to the 'forest', or park, as she had taken to calling it after she realized how small it really was. They were almost finished with it anyway; it had really been too easy to take care of. Well, the centaurs had been a bit of an adventure, but that was expected. Everything else had so far been too easy to catch, cage, and relocate. Their only sticking point had been the Acromantulas.

Albus wanted them removed alive, and relocated somewhere like everything else. Both Rachel and Severus had thought the request insane. It was simply not feasible; there were just too many of them and they positively reeked of the Wyrm. And so Rachel had begun to teach Severus to use a sword, as her preliminary research suggested that the largest of the spiders would be nearly impossible to kill with spells or poisons. She figured that, in another couple of weeks, Severus would feel comfortable enough with the sword that they could attack. So, all they had to do was convince Albus that killing them was for the best by that time.

Unfortunately, it wasn't working. Not the convincing Albus bit, that was coming along, slowly, but it was progressing nicely toward a cave-in on the Albus front. Rachel hoped he'd cave soon, though, as she was getting very nearly desperate for a real life-threatening battle. Keeping herself in check was getting steadily more difficult. And she was getting more than a little frustrated in other ways too, as it was Rachel's attempt to distract herself from her attraction to Severus that wasn't working. If anything, the way she was exhausting herself was making her more vulnerable.

The dark, velvety richness of his voice still nearly made her eyes roll back, her knees weak, and set butterflies to wildly moshing in her stomach. The whole Goth look still really worked for her, and the effortless grace with which he moved was still far too distracting. Not to mention the fact that she just couldn't stop blushing, and she really had thought that being subjected to Pascale's filthy mind for four years had completely obliterated her ability to do so. And they just seemed to click. She felt just like she had back in high school when she and Shaun were in their flirty stage.

She really was about to just give up the whole plan, but the idea of making a move and being rejected was gut-wrenching. On the other hand, she could make a move, have her feelings reciprocated, start a relationship, fall in love, find contentment at last…only to screw it all up and lose him…or watch him die, or one of the hundred other disasters she feared. The fear of making a mistake, of getting hurt, of really letting him in, of letting him see the Rage that lurked behind her carefully controlled facade…Rachel was terrified of all of it. But she was equally afraid of never trying at all.

All in all, she was desperately in need of girl talk, and as her sisters were going to arrive at Grimmauld Place very soon, she was going to get to go there and see them, and while she was there, she'd finally get to sit down and talk to Pascale, who excelled at the girl talk thing.

Severus learned quickly that hearing stories about the Garou in his childhood in no way prepared him for getting to know one. Though their forays into the forest had proven that she was a predator, a sexual predator was what he'd been expecting, and her propensity to blush (which he was beginning to truly enjoy. It was, God help him, cute) made the very idea ludicrous.

But his first real lesson about the Garou occurred when she'd asked him for advice about a 'fetish'. His immediate reaction had been to clear his throat and recommend a discreet shop in Hogsmeade. Wide-eyed with shock, she'd launched into a broken explanation. A fetish was a Garou magic item. A spirit of some sort was bound to the object, and said object would have a power corresponding to the spirit. A magpie spirit, for example, was bound into the 'wand' Rachel's packmate sent her. As magpies were thieving birds, Rachel would be able to use the wand to mimic a summoning charm.

She had then gone on to explain that she needed help figuring out if any of her 'Gifts' matched descriptions of any spells he could think of, as she didn't want to be limited to a single spell.

While Severus had some knowledge of these powers, as his mother had told him about those she knew of, he had assumed they were learned much the same way a wizard learned spells. Discovering that spirits, actual spirits, taught them, and that the spirits would only teach their Gifts to a specific tribe, or auspice, or breed, with few exceptions, was fascinating.

Her own Gifts were…well, some were interesting; one was downright terrifying. She could heal with a simple touch, of course, but she could also sense lies and ignore pain if she was injured. She had joked that it was a great way to stay in a fight long enough to get killed. She could also change any of her senses to those of muggle machines – her favorite was to give her own eyes a 'zoom lens'.

Also, by simply staring into someone's eyes, she could make the person or animal flee in terror. Severus almost envied her that particular ability, but only almost, as he did at least possess the ability to make students flee in terror simply by showing up.

The one that was terrifying, in more ways than one, was a Gift she called 'Doppelganger'. Its effects were reminiscent of the Polyjuice Potion, but far more effective and efficient. With little effort, Rachel could become anyone. If she used the Gift, her appearance, voice, body language, even scent would be identical to the individual being copied. And the effects could last for several days at a time. All she needed to know to be entirely convincing was the individual's general speech patterns. It was frightening enough to know that Rachel could do such a thing, but knowing that any Garou with the same Gift could as well was very unnerving. Her assurance that few others shared the Gift, as only Glass Walkers with a rank of Athro or Elder could even learn it, was of little comfort.

Then there was the matter of the forest. Very little was accomplished their first day out, as Rachel mainly spent the afternoon making snide remarks. 'You call this a forest?' she'd asked him. 'You can't call it a forest if you can already see where it ends from where it starts. This is barely a park.' He'd argued, but she'd shrugged and said, 'Hey, just don't expect me to be impressed. California has more forest than you have country.'

They worked in the forest, or 'park', as Rachel took to calling it, without incident for the first week. She'd shifted to her wolf form a couple of times to track and catch small or fast-moving creatures, but nothing was putting up much of a fight. A week in, though, they ran across the centaurs.

Predictably, the centaurs had ordered them out, insisting that they immediately cease their meddling, as they were damaging the delicate balance of something or other, blah, blah, blah… He'd forgotten it as quickly as the centaur said it, but would never forget what happened next.

A low, inhuman growl filled the clearing, silencing the droning centaur. Rachel, already shifting forms, stepped forward. Three paces later, she was in Crinos. She raised one enormous hand, extended one clawed finger, and then pointed toward her own enormous muzzle. In a deep, guttural voice, she ground out two words. "Not human."

She then changed back to homid. "Any questions?"

After a few moments' pause, the same centaur that ordered them out of the forest spoke up once more, in a much softer tone. "Apologies, my lady. We meant no disrespect. The Garou are an ancient, noble, and honorable people. But I fail to understand your presence here. Your people have no more love for these creatures than do mine. Terrible are the deeds that wizards have done to your kind. It is their own mistakes that have led them to the very brink of their destruction, and yet you offer them aid? Why do you, a warrior of Gaia, waste your time and energy helping these low creatures?"

Anger flashed in Rachel's eyes, but she tamped it down, holding her head high and proud. "Because they asked for it. Ridding the forest of dark creatures, protecting the children from Voldemort, as I can only assume that's what you meant by 'the brink of their destruction', these are things that need to be done. And I have accepted the responsibility. Frankly, I don't give a damn whose mistake led to what problem or whose ancestors did what to mine. Those things have no bearing on my life.

"The past is but a tool. You learn from it; it teaches you to avoid the mistakes of your forbears. But you never judge a society's present from its past, any more than you would judge an adult by the foolish mistakes of youth. Nor do you sit back and allow a sociopath to commit genocide simply because his own society taught him to hate.

"Know this. I have no quarrel with you, as this forest, while it belongs to no one, is rightfully your home. But speak no more to me of meddling here, or of upsetting the balance of the forest. And do not cross my path again; I do not suffer bigots. I will take my leave of you now."

She turned and swept regally from the clearing.

Severus grinned at the memory. She'd admitted later that day that she knew they'd run into the centaurs sooner or later and had read up on them, and had prepared a speech for the eventual encounter. She'd also explained that, as alpha of a pack that traveled the globe coming up with creative solutions for difficult problems, she had a great deal of experience with that sort of thing. Meaning that, most of the time, the established leaders of whatever city or forest they were in behaved much like the centaurs – they believed in ancient ways, held grudges for centuries, and held those who disagreed with said ancient ways in disdain.

Rachel had discovered quickly that she had to, at the very least, learn how to speak 'Pompous', or they would see her as no more than a foolish child. Before long, her method of choice in dealing with leaders was to make them look and feel just stupid enough that they'd leave her and her pack alone, but not so stupid as to earn their wrath. With few exceptions, which she refused to go into, it had worked quite effectively.

Rachel had begun researching the Acromantulas that same day. A few days later, she'd come to the conclusion he had already reached – killing them was the only possible option. And she had been delighted (she had the sweetest smile) when he agreed to help her plan the attack. It took only two days to plan – part one, release a poison that would kill all but the largest hundred or so of them, part two, use a combination of spell and claw to destroy most of the remainder, and part three, hand to, erm, leg combat against the few that were too large to be affected by magic. And to that end, Rachel began to teach Severus to use a sword.

He wasn't wild about that portion of the plan, but, short of the Unforgivables, Severus was unaware of any spells that would be effective against Aragog and the largest of his descendents. And Rachel had reassured him that all he really needed was to get comfortable holding and swinging it, as he wasn't going to be attacking trained swordsmen, but stabbing and slashing at spiders. She proved to be an adept, if distracting, teacher. It was not easy to focus on swordplay when your instructor was beautiful, moved with an effortless grace, and wore clothing that left very little to the imagination. Only Severus' decades of experience holding his emotions in check kept him from making a fool of himself.

At any rate, his greatest shock was that Rachel was usually a very calm individual. He had expected her to be quite emotional, given her breakdown after their initial meeting. That she was not often angry was especially surprising, for he'd heard more than one story about the Rage that could reduce a Garou to little more than a snarling, murderous beast, and he'd told her so. To his surprise, she'd been adamant that such a thing was possible, reminding him often that he should always be ready to hex her unconscious and/or immobile if she ever lost control. Only after the incident with the centaurs had Severus truly understood why she was so insistent. After all, watching Rachel shift to Crinos was quite different from knowing, in theory, what it was like.

Still, she had yet to so much as lose her temper, let alone her control. He knew that she was restraining herself, though, especially in the forest. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes and by how nervous she seemed of late, the tension was taking a toll. She'd been exhausted enough during their last training session that, using a move she should have easily blocked, Severus had accidentally sliced her arm before he could stop his sword's arc. She'd brushed off his concern, as the cut healed almost instantly, but he'd still refused to continue the lesson, and ordered her to get a good night's sleep. It was a testament to how tired she was that she'd agreed to his demand with almost no fuss.

He wanted to ask Albus to speak with her about it, but knew without even asking that Albus would recommend that he handle it himself. The concern that Severus felt for Rachel's well-being…well, it was not a particularly comfortable feeling. It disturbed him even more than the ever-increasing attraction he felt toward her. That, at least, he could brush aside as a natural reaction to a beautiful woman. But concern, worry, those were feelings he rarely experienced. He rarely felt concern even for Albus, who was truly his closest friend.

It was damned confusing, too. After all, she was a magical creature, a powerful one at that; she might find his worry insulting. But he couldn't stop thinking about the Acromantulas. The battle would happen soon; Severus was certain that Albus would cave within the week. And while Garou could heal mundane injuries almost instantly, other magical creatures would cause them more serious injuries. They could actually kill her. And Severus feared that, unless Rachel began to take better care of herself, they might manage it.