"Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?" Minerva looked over her glasses.

"Yes," Elizabeth said simply, standing in her Head of House's office.

"You called her a liar?"

"Yes."

"You told her He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?"

"Yes."

McGonagall sat down, frowned at her granddaughter, then put the note Elizabeth had handed her a few moments before on the desk. "Sit down and have a biscuit."

"What?"

"Sit down and have a biscuit," the older witch repeated impatiently, pointing at the tin of cookies on her desk.

Elizabeth obeyed. For shouting at a teacher, she'd expected detention at the very least. Certainly she'd expected Severus to be contacted immediately.

"You have to be more careful, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth grimaced and nodded, but Minerva went on as if she had to make sure that the dark-haired girl understood. "Misbehavior in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than House points and a detention. You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting."

"I know."

"Then what happened today?" Minerva's voice was calm, but demanding of an answer.

"She baited me."

McGonagall snorted, a sound Elizabeth was sure she'd never heard from the regal woman. "Exactly like your father, aren't you? Lucky that he grew out of some of that."

The bell rang for the end of the lesson. Minerva reached for the note again and held it up. "It says here she's given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow."

"Every evening this week!" Elizabeth repeated, horrified. "But couldn't you—

"No, I couldn't," Minerva said flatly. "She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: Tread carefully."

"But I was telling the truth!"

"For heaven's sake, Elizabeth!" Minerva snapped. "Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control!" She shook her head, then went to the floo, sticking her head in and speaking rapidly. "Severus, I need you in my office now."

"Does it have anything to do with the charming note I just received from Umbridge?" Severus' voice came through from the somewhere in the network.

"I have your child here," Minerva said, in a tone that was almost accusatory.

The Severus voice sighed. "Send her through, please."

Minerva stood and beckoned to Elizabeth. "Your father wishes to see you."

"Why'd you have to do that?" Elizabeth scowled, but tossed the powder into the floo and stepped through.

When she arrived in his office, Severus was sitting at his desk. "Go into the living room," he said, without looking up. "I'll be through here soon."

"Dad, I—

"Elizabeth," Severus looked meaningfully at the door to the corridor. "Our quarters. I'll be there in a moment."

Elizabeth bit her lip, but went through the other door, into their living room. She dropped her bag on the floor and went into her room to change her clothes before coming back out to sit on the sofa. True to his word, Severus came through the door a few minutes later, closing it firmly behind him and standing, arms crossed, looking at her.

"I sat in this room," Severus said quietly, "and I said not to scream the truth in Umbridge's face. Now," he tapped one finger against his elbow, "I was speaking in hyperbole at the time, but I should have known that you never do anything halfway."

"She was saying we were safe," Elizabeth protested. "She isn't going to teach any practical defense—

"Merlin, hatchling," Severus rubbed one hand over his face. "Couldn't you have waited a few days before winding the woman into a tizzy?"

Elizabeth shifted a little, unsure of whether or not he was upset with her. "I guess not," she ventured.

Severus sat on the sofa beside her, stretching out his long legs and putting one arm around her shoulders. "You, my child, could never be a spy."

"Grandma says that you couldn't control yourself when you were in school."

"Hmm," Severus said noncommittally. "You know I have to punish you for that little display, correct?'

"She's an idiot," Elizabeth mumbled, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Even so," the wizard said, poorly concealing his amusement, "it wouldn't do to have Umbridge believe I was soft on crime. We know how she handles unfit parents."

"You're not really mad though, right?"

"That depends on the definition of 'mad' you're using," Severus drummed the fingers of his other hand against the sofa arm. "However, using the definition I'm sure you are, no. A bit irritated, but I'm not angry. Perhaps," he shifted to look at her, "this was too much to expect. It's… maybe an impossible feat I'm asking of a headstrong teenager."

Elizabeth felt the gnawing feeling in her stomach that she always felt when she disappointed him. "I'll try harder, I promise—

"No," Severus shook his head and pulled her closer to his side. "I'm not saying that you aren't capable. I'm saying that perhaps it is wrong of me to ask it of you."

Elizabeth wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so she stayed quiet.

"We'll eat here tonight," Severus decided aloud. "Do you want to complete your detention before or after dinner?"

"Dad!"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"You're making me do your detention?"

"Have I ever given you a false detention, Elizabeth Rose?"

Elizabeth turned her eyes on him. "But I've been traumatized," she whined. "Divination, and then crazy Umbridge—

"You are many things," Severus shook his head, "but traumatized is not one of them. However, you only need to rebrew the potion tonight, we can deal with Occulmency tomorrow."

"What?" Elizabeth looked horrified.

Severus looked at her serenely. "I told you I had to punish you for your behavior today. I think two additional detentions, working on controlling yourself, are in order."

Elizabeth crossed her arms and flopped against the sofa back, "How am I suppose to do double detentions for the next two days?"

"Late nights for you," Severus said calmly. "You'll have to sleep here. Now, brewing before or after dinner?"

Elizabeth made a face, but got up and trudged toward the lab door. "Now, I guess."

"Good choice," Severus smoothed her hair as she walked by. "I believe that Remus and your dogfather will be joining us."

"Why?" Elizabeth rummaged in her bag for her Potions book.

"I imagine they want to hear about your first day," Severus sat at his desk. "I'll be here if you need me."

"You're not coming down?" Elizabeth frowned. Severus never let her brew alone.

"I make you nervous, do I not?" Severus reached for a stack of mail that had been resting on the desktop.

"Well," Elizabeth looked uncertain. "Yeah."

"Then I will be here if you need me," Severus repeated.

Elizabeth shrugged a little and went downstairs, where she found the instructions for the Draught of Peace on the chalkboard. She vaguely wondered if that board had always been there, or if Severus had put it in when she'd started school.

She carefully measured out her ingredients, then looked at the instructions again.

Heat cauldron

Add ¼ liter water

Heat water until boiling

Add powdered moonstone

Stir three times counterclockwise

Allow to simmer for seven minutes

Elizabeth sprinted up the stairs, where Severus looked up from his desk at the sound of her arrival.

"Are you alright?"

"You wrote the directions different."

"Differently," Severus corrected. "I thought breaking it down further might help."

"Why don't you do that in class?"

"Because I'm horrible," Severus smirked.

"But if it's easier—

"I give instructions the way that they are commonly found in Potion manuals that students might use in their adult lives," Severus broke in. "I have many students in the past who rewrite their instructions into smaller pieces in order to be successful. I thought that, perhaps, you could utilize the strategy."

"Oh," Elizabeth frowned. "You should have taught us to do that," she turned and went back downstairs.

Severus shook his head and returned to his mail, only to be interrupted again by the sound of the floo.

"Severus," Dolores Umbridge's super-sweet voice oozed out as she stepped through.

"Professor," Severus barely inclined his head. "Most people ask before entering my quarters."

"My apologies, certainly," Umbridge sounded anything but sorry. "You didn't respond to my note, so I just thought I'd check in."

"I didn't return your note because I was attending to your concerns," Severus said simply.

"Good," Umbridge purred. "Where is your disrespectful child?"

"Serving part of her punishment," Severus wondered if you would have to cut the woman's head off to really kill her.

"Ah," Umbridge smiled that fake, painful smile. "I'm glad to see that our little celebrity is not above consequences at home."

"Was there something else you needed?" Severus drummed his fingers on the desk.

"I wanted to make sure that you've made it clear to your daughter that she was wrong today," Umbridge chirped.

"I made it clear that she should be respectful to her teachers," Severus said carefully.

"You might want to make it clear that she shouldn't be spreading such dangerous ideas," Umbridge said sweetly. "Impressionable children around, you know."

"She is an impressionable child," Severus stood. "If you'll excuse me, I'm having guests for dinner."

"Of course," Umbridge twisted her mouth into what Severus imagined was supposed to be a charming smile. "Have a lovely evening," she pulled a pink bag out of her robes and withdrew pink, sparkly floo powder, before tossing it in the fireplace and disappearing.

Severus gritted his teeth and resumed sitting, intent on getting through at least half of the correspondence before—

knock knock knock

Growling, Severus stood, and yanked open the portrait. "What do you want?"

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Hello to you, as well, old friend."

Severus stepped aside and impatiently waved the other wizard inside. "Why didn't you come through the floo?"

"Because I didn't realize how angry arrival-by-door made you," Remus frowned.

"I've been trying to answer my post for half an hour now," Severus sat back in his chair.

"So interruptions are putting you in this charming mood?" Remus crossed his arms.

"Just Umbridge," Severus muttered. "She stopped by to check on my parenting skills."

"Where is our little scholar?"

"Downstairs, rebrewing the potion she ruined in class today."

"A little rough on her sometimes, aren't you?"

"You sound like the mutt."

Remus shrugged. "It's been a difficult summer. That's all I'm saying."

"And I'm saying that we can't let outside forces influence her education."

"Whatever you say," Remus sat on the sofa. "Sirius is late."

"Unusual," Severus said dryly.

"Maybe we should just sit here quietly until your better-tempered, teenage daughter joins us."

"She's not better-tempered today," Severus smirked. "She's been up here once to shout at me already."

*S*S*

"So, how was the first day?" Sirius asked, spearing a piece of broccoli on his fork.

"Well, Elizabeth only earned seven detentions today, so I suppose it's not a bad showing," Severus took long swallow of wine.

"Seven?" Sirius looked at Elizabeth. "I'm… so proud." He waved his hand over his eyes to clear imaginary tears. "You are my personal hero, Elizabeth Evans."

"I didn't earn anything," Elizabeth glared at her father, who raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so I earned one." Another raised eyebrow. "Really!"

"Let's talk about something else," Remus frowned. "What classes did you have today?"

"Binns… Double Dad… Fortune telling… Ministry Satanist."

"Elizabeth," Severus said warningly.

"What? She is."

"This is pleasant," Remus took a drink.

"It hasn't been a great beginning of the year," Severus shook his head. "Speaking of that, are you spending the night here?" He looked at Elizabeth.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to hide," Elizabeth poked at her food.

"You can always sleep here," Severus sighed. "I said you couldn't hide during the day."

"Hide from what?" Sirius looked back and forth between the other people at the table.

"People in the dorm hate me," Elizabeth shrugged.

"I'm sure they don't," Sirius shook his head.

"No, they do," Elizabeth said, matter-of-factly. "Their parents hate me, and so do they."

"They don't hate you," Severus said smoothly, tapping her milk glass meaningfully. "They're afraid to believe the truth. We've talked about this."

"I'm not drinking milk anymore," Elizabeth pushed her glass away. "My bones are fine, and I'm too old for it."

"And what are you proposing as a replacement? You drink that sugar-filled pumpkin juice every meal. I use our meals here to balance your beverage habits."

"How do you even find time to think about that?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Hermione's parents let her drink wine at dinner with them."

"I'm biologically predetermined to think about every aspect of your life," Severus said, rolling the stem of his goblet between his thumb and index finger. "Drink your milk."

"Hermione said—

"Miss Granger is not my concern unless she is sitting in my class," Severus said firmly. "Don't let me catch you drinking until you're of age."

"Wine with dinner is not 'drinking'," Elizabeth muttered.

Severus looked at Remus, who shook his head. "Maybe we should go," he looked at Sirius. "We have a meeting tonight anyway."

"Remus—

"Severus," Remus cut him off and stood up. "You need to talk to your daughter. We'll see you later."

Sirius, clearly confused but certain he didn't want to be filled in at that very moment, dropped a kiss on Elizabeth's head and followed Remus to the floo.

"Talk to me about what?" Elizabeth pushed her glass a little further away.

Severus was quiet until the floo had fallen silent, then he wordlessly vanished everything on the table except her milk glass. "Do you remember the time you asked me about my father?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth frowned. "You said that I wasn't old enough to know stuff."

Severus folded his hands on the table, and tapped his thumbs together. "I was hoping not to have to tell you anything about that man, but I suppose that was naïve. I thought I'd at least have a few more years." He pressed his lips together, then continued.

"To put it simply, my father had a problem with drinking," he said slowly, his eyes focused on his hands. "He drank all the time, and when he did, he created a nightmare situation for Eileen and I."

"But I just wanted one glass—

"Elizabeth," Severus raised his eyes to hers. "Problems like this… they can be passed down in families. You have to be more careful about this than some of your friends."

"But you drink."

Severus was a quiet for moment. "I shouldn't. I have an agreement with myself on a two-drink limit, but I won't pretend that I haven't had times in my life when I broke that rule. That's why I know it's so dangerous."

"I'm careful with other things."

"Elizabeth." Severus sighed. "You are so young. When you're of age, it will be your decision and your battle, but right now it's mine. You aren't ready to judge whether or not you've had enough, or whether or not you are in control." He looked at her thoughtfully. "Why the sudden interest in alcohol?"

"Everyone's doing it… I just want to be normal."

"Who's 'everyone'?" Severus asked evenly. "Fred?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "He says that there's better ways to spend money."

"Hmm," Severus drummed his fingers on the table. "So this is an attempt at adulthood?" He tilted his head to search her face. "I see." He pressed his lips together. "You will not take a sip of alcohol until you turn of age."

Elizabeth shifted a little in her seat. "If it's dangerous for me, isn't it dangerous for you? You said you shouldn't be doing it."

Severus cursed logical thinking. "I'm an adult," he said, but he knew, even as it came out of his mouth, how lame it sounded. "I only explained our family history because I think you should know if you're interested in imbibing."

"But if you—

Severus made a low, growling noise in the back of his throat. "Enough."

"Enough what?"

"Enough acting on your 'only child syndrome'."

"What does that mean?" Elizabeth looked at him quizzically.

"It means that as an only child we've often had a more adult relationship than most parents and children. It doesn't help that it's just you and I, and that you were older when we came to live together. But right now, I'm your father, and you are fifteen, and you will do as I say. If you so much as take a sip of anything stronger than butter beer, I'll pull you off the Quidditch team before it digests." He scowled. "If you can't make responsible decisions about dangerous habits, you certainly shouldn't be on a broom."

"Dad—

"No," Severus said firmly, standing up. "It's been a long day, and this is not a conversation I wished to have this evening. Go get ready for bed."

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I'm sorry, Dad, I just… I dunno."

Severus sighed. "Go get ready for bed."

"It's early—

"I don't remember telling you to go to bed," Severus raised an eyebrow. "Although an early bedtime might do us both some good."

Elizabeth sighed and stomped as much as she dared into her room to change, glad at least that her milk glass sat forgotten on the table. Severus shucked off his outer robes, leaving his trousers and frockcoat before sitting in his armchair, leaning back and closing his eyes.

When Elizabeth reemerged he had drifted into the light sleep. Looking at him, Elizabeth had an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Why couldn't she just be good? Why did she have to make everything so hard? It was like her mouth was possessed by someone else sometimes.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the glass of milk, gulped it down as fast as she could, and made a face at the taste before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Severus hadn't moved, but the space created by a long-ago expansion charm where Elizabeth had often curled was empty, and another overwhelming urge washed over her. She crept to his side and slid over the arm, fitting her hips between her father and the chair.

Without opening his eyes, Severus readjusted his arm to put it tightly around her, squeezing her as she laid her cheek against his coat. They sat in silence for several long moments, until Severus finally opened his eyes and looked down at her. "I'm serious, you know. No alcohol."

"I know," Elizabeth said softly, nodding against him. "It was just something I thought of, and then… I dunno, I guess I felt like I had to argue…"

"You were trapped in a teenage whirlpool," Severus said knowingly. "But I suppose it's time we talked about it." He tapped his palm absently against her leg. "Even so, I didn't mean to be quite as forceful as I was. I love you, hatchling. It makes me crazy sometimes."

"All the time," Elizabeth quipped, closing her eyes.

"Brat," Severus said affectionately, smoothing her hair. They sat together for another hour, until Elizabeth started to nod off against his shoulder.

"I think it's time for you to go to bed," Severus said softly, shifting her off the chair and onto her feet.

"I could just rest here," Elizabeth protested.

"You can rest here," Severus nodded. "Here, in the dungeon, in your room. In your bed. I'll be in to say good night shortly."

*S*S*

"I want to take her home," Severus said when Remus returned that night, long after he'd sent Elizabeth to bed. "I could homeschool her, and we could only worry about normal teenage things."

"Like drinking?" Remus stirred his tea.

"Like drinking, like boys, like whatever else normal teenage girls worry about. Maybe if all she had to be concerned about were those things, it wouldn't be so hard to get her to make good decisions."

"It's hard because it's parenthood, Sev. Not because of who she is or where you are." Remus frowned. "Hogwarts is the safest place for her."

"It might relieve some of the pressure," Severus argued. "Just for a little while."

"You. Are. Running." Remus enunciated quietly.

Severus scowled. "Who asked you?"

"Severus Snape, you're my best mate, and usually I keep my mouth shut when you're being a prat, but I'm not doing it now." Remus placed his cup on the saucer with a click and crossed his arms over his chest. "We'll get through this, but not if you run away somewhere and hide from the world."

"She's going to get herself killed," Severus examined his teacup with interest.

"Discretion is not a terrible skill for her to learn," Remus said calmly. "Nothing here can hurt her."

"We both know that's untrue," Severus raised an eyebrow.

Remus sighed and nodded, conceding the point. "Keeping her here, near Albus, within the wards… it really is best, Sev."

"I'm not sure that I want her too close to Albus," Severus said quietly. "He's too… callus about all of this. And there's something different lately, I can tell. Something he's hiding, but I'm not sure what it is."

"We all have a lot on our minds," Remus said cautiously. "Any news?"

Severus frowned. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." He raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps Elizabeth isn't the only one who needs discretion."

"You're telling Dumbledore," Remus said reproachfully. "Correct?"

"If anyone needs to know anything, they will be told," Severus said quietly.

*S*S*

Severus wasn't sure that he would be able to live with himself if he survived the war. Besides Dumbledore, he was the only one who had heard the prophecy. He'd run to the Dark Lord with his information, handing over the information that had them all in this mess.

He lay in bed after Remus left, staring at the ceiling, trying to remember if he'd used pronouns when he'd made the biggest mistake of his life. Or at least one of the biggest mistakes. Merlin, there were a lot of them.

"Sev, are you awake?" Lily looked out from her portrait.

"No," Severus said tiredly.

"Sweetheart," Lily said gently. "What's the matter?"

"Is there a line?" He asked, still looking at the ceiling.

"A line on what?"

"A line you wouldn't cross to protect Elizabeth?"

Lily laughed. "Severus, I let a crazy man kill me to protect her."

"But would you have pushed someone else in front of her?"

"What's this about, Sev?"

"Nothing," Severus shook his head. "Just a bad day."

"You've been having a lot of those, love."

"It's worse this time around," Severus said quietly. "So much worse."

"It's because of her," Lily said, shifting on her painted chair.

"I know it is," Severus pressed his lips together. "But I didn't expect it to be. I was afraid for her life last time as well. And yours… but it's different this time."

"She can walk," Lily smiled. "It's easier to protect someone you can buckle into a car seat."

"Maybe that's what I need," Severus chuckled. "An oversized car seat."

"That's certainly an option," Lily nodded seriously.

*S*S*

"Hi, Daddy!" Elizabeth, her dark hair in braids, looked up from where she was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, surrounded by piles of flour and sugar. There was a tin of biscuits in her lap, and she was happily munching on one.

Severus grimaced. "Rosie, are you supposed to be cooking?" He reached down and took the cookie tin and the half eaten one from her hands. "Mummy said you were in time out yesterday for the same thing." He put the tin on the counter and reached back down to pluck his daughter from the mess. "No cooking unless Mummy's here," he said firmly, sitting her on the time-out chair. "Five minutes, young lady."

"Daddy!"

"Don't 'Daddy' me, little girl. You sit right there while I clean up this mess." He waved his wand, vanishing the mess, and put the biscuit tin in the highest cupboard. Turning back toward the flour-covered child, he attempted to school his features away from the smile that was threatening his stern-father persona. He crossed his arms and waited until five minutes had passed before springing the little felon. "Alright, trouble maker," he said, "let's get you cleaned up."

The little four-year-old ball of flour launched herself out of the corner and into his arms, covering his clean black robes in white powder. "I had a bath in mind," he said dryly, picking her up and carrying her to the stairs. "However, it was prudent of you to start the process by removing the surface debris with my clothing."

"Sorry, Daddy."

"I know you are. Don't do it again, understand?" He kissed her head. "And don't tell Mummy."

Severus woke with a start.

"Sev?" Lily asked from her portrait. "What's wrong?"

Severus shook his head. "Just a dream," he said quietly, trying to hold on to the sense of happiness the dream had left with him. "How things could have been, I suppose."