In response to a reader's question: Adhara is the second brightest star in the constellation Canis Major. Sirius is the brighest star in this constellation (there are several other minor stars including Mirzam and Mulipein). Adhara represents 'maidens' or virginal purity. Phoebe is a satellite of the planet Saturn and is significant due to its retrograde (backwards) orbit. The name Phoebe means 'bright one'.

Chapter 39

Returns

Severus Snape sat motionless behind his desk as he stared down at the book in front of him. Preparation of a new Paired Script book was an involved undertaking, but was now an immediate requirement. He no longer had any use for a third year Potions text, since he would not be teaching Potions classes. Of course, his only need for the text beforehand had been to reference what knowledge students could be expected to know from the text, since his own knowledge was vastly more extensive than any of the texts that students could find in Hogwarts' library. He had already changed the cover of the Potions text to appear to be the sixth year Defence text; however, this was a very temporary solution, since someone needed only to open the book to see what it really was.

Snape had prepared the new receptacle—he had chosen his research journal since he carried this on his person at all times and recent events led Snape to feel that he might be required to leave Hogwarts permanently without time to collect his belongings—however, he was not yet ready to effect the change.

The only way in which he could transfer the past entries from his wife's book into his new book was if he had both linked books together. Since her book was not with him at Hogwarts, he could only direct future entries from his wife's book into the new receptacle, but once the spells had been cast all of the old entries would be permanently erased. Snape was not yet ready to lose what was contained in his book. He might have read every word that she had written so many times that they were now memorised, but he could not yet bear to lose the ability to actively read her words written in her own curly, feminine hand.

He had been back at Hogwarts less than 10 hours. The students would arrive in a few short days and he had a considerable amount of work to complete before that time, since he was teaching seven entirely new classes. He had selected texts and made tentative plans for lessons during the summer once he had been notified of his selection for teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts, however he had not found sufficient time to do more than the bare bones of what was needed. Yet, despite all that he ought to be working on, Snape already knew what he was going to do that evening. For the first time in three months, Snape would be able to visit his wife. That miserable visit to the house with Yaxley could not be counted.

His hand twitched open the book in front of him to page 114 and Snape began the short spell that would allow him to see whatever his wife might have added to the book since the last time he had read it. He had only been able to look into the Paired Script book four times during that summer, since Wormtail had been ever present and Snape had been aware that his every movement was watched.

Nevertheless, his wife had dutifully fulfilled each of his requests, although he had never recognised receipt of the objects she had sent nor written a word of thanks in return. She had never begged for him to visit, nor had she remonstrated with him for his apparent abandonment of her. Despite this, Snape had known precisely what her feelings were. Her entries had become progressively more depressed in nature as her handwriting had increasingly seemed to slump across the page instead of the usually compulsively neat, formal copperplate.

Despite his feelings for his wife, Snape knew he had not and never would learn to be a compassionate husband. Although he deplored the situation that required him to stay away from his wife and keep his thoughts and feelings from her, he knew that there was no other option. He felt that it was better for his wife to become accustomed to their reality instead of being placated with false platitudes. Snape could not see any future in which he could publicly declare his feelings for her, nor one in which he could even be present in his own child's life. If they were going to maintain a relationship, he and his wife would have to learn to be satisfied with their hidden correspondence in the books and extremely rare visits via Xulopurian travel.

Patience would have to learn to accept the limitations, which he felt she could best do if she were not coddled. The next few months might give a reprieve, since the comparative safety and privacy of his rooms at Hogwarts would allow him to write and visit relatively frequently. Yet Snape was only too aware how quickly this could change, in fact how quickly this would change if the little Malfoy brat were unable to do the job.

As Snape rested his head on his hand briefly, he had a sudden flashback to a memory of a newly minted, absurdly youthful Death Eater with his pride sourly smarting as he watched an equally young but beautiful blonde witch wearing a sparkling blue dress robe twirling round a majestic ballroom in time to overly loud music. She had been so proud with such a profound belief that her future was golden and secure. Snape lifted his head and peered down at the messy green words on the page in front of him with a frown. That witch was gone, destroyed by her own and her husband's ambition—that pride broken by the love her tiny, brittle heart held for a worthless son and a disgraced husband. As he passed over an analysis of that angry young wizard's equally disappointing wasted potential, Snape's mind was led inexorably back to the Hogwarts Yule Ball two years before and another blonde witch, this one with a beauty he could not even describe, who had also worn blue. She had been with Fleming, of course, and she had appeared ethereal in her happiness. The girl with whom he had fallen so incomprehensibly in love had slowly disappeared during her marriage to him. He had been killing her by stages. The gentleness and kindness that had been so foreign to a thwarted, bitter wizard and yet inexplicably, wonderfully attractive had been sliding away as his wife had been forced by circumstances to learn to weigh consequences and values using his scales instead of her own.

Snape read the entry in front of him, which had been written the day that he had visited with Yaxley. The day that he had held in his hands his own child. Before he had finished reading what his wife had written, Snape closed the book and ran his wand along the spine to wipe it clean. The misery of the past week, since the birth of their daughter and his visit, did not compare to the agony that he had read in his wife's words. Snape stood from his chair and flung out his wand to set the Privacy Charms on his rooms before turning on his heel and walking directly into the fireplace with wand held high.

As he felt the fire round him changing, Snape tapped his head to release the Bubble-Head Charm he had hastily cast in his hurry to pass through the chasm. When he pushed forward into the fireplace grate of the room where he had arrived, Snape realised that he had overshot his goal of the sitting room fire and had entered the fireplace of his former bedroom. It was rare that his concentration was insufficiently focussed enough for him to misjudge fire travel of any sort, but his emotions were obstreperously out of control and he had not expected a fire to have been lit in the bedroom during the daytime. Snape brushed off his robes absently as he cast his eyes round the bedroom in surprise. A house-elf was kneeling on the ground and industriously scrubbing the floor with green Bubbling Wax as it singing off-key.

"You are the new house-elf?"

The elf screeched nervously and jumped up from the floor so that she could then bend herself nearly double in a bow before him. "Master Snape, sir! Pokey did not know to expect the Master, sir, she is a very bad elf, she has not prepared Baby or kind Mistress, or…"

Snape stepped round a pile of foaming green bubbles and snarled venomously, "No one knew I was coming you foolish creature. You know that you are bound to keep silent, do you not?"

The house-elf kept her head lowered as she grovelled on the floor before him and responded in a frightened, high-pitched voice, "Yes, Master. Kind, beautiful Mistress has ordered that Pokey and Wicket will never speak of having seen Master inside this house, not even to the Brother or Mrs Kent, sir."

"Very well, you had better remember your orders if you do not want to lose your ears, elf. Where is my wife?"

"Lovely, kind Mistress is always with Baby, Master sir. Pokey will bring kind Mistress to Master."

Snape grunted and replied, "Be careful if she is not alone. It must not be suspected that my wife has any reason to return to her rooms other than to rest." Snape walked round an old-fashioned cradle with a canopy and then stopped short. "Elf, does my wife ever bring the child down with her to sleep?"

Pokey nodded her head vigorously and squeaked, "Yes, Master. Whenever she comes to rest in the afternoons."

"Bring the child, as well, so nothing appears abnormal. Do hurry up, elf, I have not got all day to wait."

After the house-elf had snapped her fingers to clear the floor of the green bubbles and disappeared from view, Snape looked round the bedroom with displeasure. Except the addition of the cot, the room had not been changed since he had inhabited it. There did not appear to be any objects of his wife's in view and other than a lingering scent of eglantine from his wife's perfume, it did not appear to be the room of a woman at all.

As Snape turned his eyes to the heavily framed portrait of his mother, which was still hanging above the fireplace, the flames in the grate crackled and flickered to signal an imminent arrival via Floo. There was a whirlwind of movement, suddenly two small arms were twisted round Snape's neck, and a mass of golden curls tickled his nose as his wife launched herself into his chest without warning. Staggering under the unexpected weight, Snape stumbled backwards and braced himself with the edge of the heavy oak wardrobe.

"Oh, you were a beast that day, Severus! I have almost hated you this whole week, but I told myself that you would come. You did come."

Snape cleared his throat as he firmly grasped his wife with both hands and held her close briefly before releasing her and saying unsteadily, "I told you that I would. You knew the risks—I warned you that it might be months."

"Yes, but that didn't make it any easier. Did knowing that make it easier for you, Severus?"

Snape narrowed his eyes and shot a hateful glance at his mother's portrait, whose expression he considered was too amused. "No."

Patience reached her hand up and touched his cheek, causing Snape to tense his jaw. "It didn't seem as if you were play-acting, Severus. You looked through me. Even the one time that you spoke to me, you spoke at me. And you didn't seem to care about Phoebe at all."

At the mention of his daughter, Snape pulled himself away from his wife completely. "What did you expect from me, Patience? How was I supposed to demonstrate my feelings for my daughter to your satisfaction in front of someone outside the family?"

Patience drew back as if she had been struck and replied, "I don't know what I expected, Severus, but I suppose I was wrong. I am sorry."

"Do not assume that you know me, Patience. You have no real idea what I am or what I do. I have told you nothing." Snape could see that his wife was deeply hurt by his words, but his misery fuelled him into irrational anger. "I cannot tell you any of it, since it would place you in irretrievable danger. You and the child are too important. You will have to trust that I am right and not dare to presume that you understand what I am feeling."

Snape watched his wife turn her face away from him and place her hand on a corner post of the bed before speaking. "I did not ask you to tell me your secrets, Severus. I have trusted you and defended you even when it has seemed as if I were foolish to believe in you. You have not failed me and I do not expect you to do so. I think that I have earned the right to expect you to tell me what you are feeling."

Snape gripped his wife's shoulder with his long fingers and started to speak when the sound of a house-elf appearing came from the other side of the room. Both Snape and Patience turned their heads and saw Wicket, who was holding the baby tightly to his wrinkled chest and crouching against the wall—having realised that his timing was inopportune.

"Place the child in the cradle, Wicket. I will speak to you later." Snape had spoken in the dangerous, low voice that indicated ill-tidings for whomever was near, causing the house-elf to gently lay the baby down and then hurriedly snap his fingers to start the cradle rocking before he disappeared. The moment that the house-elf left the room, however, Snape walked over to the slowly rocking cradle and looked down at the sleeping child within.

After several moments, in which Patience had not moved from where she had leant against the bedpost, Snape asked quietly, "You intend to use her second name?"

Patience nodded her head and replied, "Yes."

"I prefer Adhara, however you may use Phoebe if you wish." Neither of them spoke as Snape continued to gaze at his daughter in silence. Eventually he observed almost as if he were unaware of speaking, "I had not expected her to be so small. She is a healthy weight?"

Patience stepped forward to his side and half-whispered, "Yes, perfectly. She is only 8 days old, Severus."

"Van Ussel is satisfied?"

"Yes, Healer Van Ussel has said that in his opinion she shall thrive excellently. He told me that Tuesday births with a strong Mars are exceptionally good omens for magical ability. I was so relieved she was not born the following day, since Wednesday births with strong Mars and waxing moon are disastron."

Snape absently drew his finger along the bottom of the sleeping baby's foot before he turned back to his wife and said, "I consulted the charts, as well. I too was relieved the birth was Tuesday. How strong was the Adhara influence?"

Patience leant into the arm that Snape had placed along her back as she replied, "Adhara was strong, Sirius was very weak, and Mirzam and Mulipein were even fainter, so I felt that the Adhara influence was very significant, which was why I plotted the baby's birth astron using Adhara as centre and drawing lines from the structure of the rest of Canis Major."

Snape muttered softly, "Unbelievable."

Patience asked with surprise, "What is?"

"That Bellatrix did me a greater favour than I knew. I didn't think we would get a fourth piece of luck." As he could see that she was about to ask for further clarification, but feeling little inclination to explain the irony of her choice for their child's birth astron, Snape silenced his wife by placing his finger over her lips and suggesting quietly, "Let the child sleep. If we go in the other room then you can tell me more about what Van Ussel has said and what the child has done this last week."