"You're safe now. You're home. I'll take care of you." Danu whispers as she looks down at the final, permanent resting place of her late mother-in-law.

The process had been easier than she had anticipated, she only needed to sign a document and the Ministry handled the rest. Why Severus had never done it, or actually looked into it, no one knew. Eileen had been moved, buried, and her headstone erected all before Danu had even actually moved into their new home. She chose a simple granite stone with roses etched into it, a long thin vine circles her name and date of birth, the date of her death was purposely omitted. It didn't matter what day Eileen left this world, not truly. What mattered was that she had lived, she had raised a son, and that son had given her a daughter. Most of all, what mattered was that Eileen was finally loved, she was wanted, and she would be cared for. Her and Lorna may not have ever met this woman, but Lorna will know of her intensity, her intelligence, and her determination to raise a son worthy of love and praise, even when Danu herself did not wish to love or praise the man who fathered her child. She would not speak ill of him in Lorna's presence, nor would she allow anyone else to do so. Lorna would know that she is named after a strong, brave, worthy woman. She will ensure that Lorna is proud to have her grandmothers name, and equally proud to have her father's.

Danu had taken it upon herself to bring two of Eileen's rose bushes with them and planted one on either side of her grave in the back garden, inside of the stone wall that circled a small a small area with grape vines crawling across wooden trellises. On the headstone, her name is written in the tight, elegant cursive from her own hand, taken from a scrap of paper found in the back of a cupboard in the kitchen at Spinner's End.

Eileen Catherine Prince Snape

7 January 1930

May she know peace

—

Harry and Ginny had been the ones to find the home and had intended to buy it themselves before ultimately deciding to fix up Sirius Black's home. Harry had offered it to her first, had even swore to pay for its upkeep for Lorna one day in the future, but Danu had refused. Harry deserved anything that belonged to Sirius far more than she did.

Their home sits atop a hill, surrounded by apple trees, berry bushes, and rolling fields. A lone dirt road circles the property and leads directly to the Weasley's back garden after a ten minute walk. An ice cold creek with slick rocks and mossy banks weaves in and out of the property, promising to be the perfect spot for Lorna to one day play in and explore. The home, or rather, cottage, is spacious and inviting, both inside and out. The thatched roof has grayed with age and held patches of bright green moss along the windows edges. The front left of the house is covered with English ivy that reaches up to one of the many chimney's, completely covering the windows on that side. An old, rickety picket fence encloses the front garden, which is overrun with lavender and poppy's, their purple and red heads striking against the cottages white exterior.

Inside of the cottage is straight out of a fairy tale; exactly what one would imagine when thinking of a cottage in an isolated valley. Worn wooden boards cover the floors, matching beams jut out from between slats of plaster on the white ceilings. Each room has its own red brick fireplace, their mantles hand laid and lumpy, grayed with years of constant use. The main floor of the cottage has the sitting room, kitchen, dining area, and a tiny restroom. Peeking out from between the kitchen and dining room is a rounded doorway housing a flight of stairs that leads up to three decently sized bedrooms, and a larger bathroom with a claw foot tub. At the end of the hall, nestled between the last bedroom is a second set of stairs, they would be missed completely if one did not turn the corner to find them. Up these stairs is the attic, a spacious and well-lit area with three windows to let in air. Unlike most attics that she had been in, this one is not stuffy or slightly terrifying, but homey and cozy. It took only one look at the area for Danu to make the decision to make this her brewing room and library.

It took everything she had gotten for the sale of Spinner's End, and nearly half of what Severus had left for her in the Muggle bank account to purchase the cottage, but to her, it was more than worth it. There would be no more memories of life with Severus, no matter how short lived their time there together had been, keeping her up each night. No more flashes of him in her peripheral as she makes her way down the stairs, no imagining him sitting at the kitchen table sipping his morning coffee. Lorna would have clean, fresh, country air to breathe. There would be no threat of her being hit by a car as she crossed the street, no chance of a Muggle catching a glimpse of her untamed magic as she grew. She will eat fruit straight from the vine, pluck vegetables from the garden the two of them will grow together, learn how to brew potions in the attic, and chase butterflies through the meadows and rolling hills. When she is old enough, she will walk the lane to the Weasley's garden and trade fruit for eggs, and undoubtedly sneak a few treats from Molly's kitchen.

—

At last, after days of unpacking and arranging things to her liking, Danu was on the final box to unpack in the parlor, as Lorna sleeps peacefully in her cot in her nursery upstairs. Late evening sun filters through the windows, casting a hazy glow throughout the cottage. A small fire crackles in the hearth, knocking the early fall chill from the air. At the bottom of the box, beneath a discarded black and green scarf left behind by Severus in Lorna's nursery, presumably something left intentionally as a way for her to remember him by, is her old, deteriorating copy of The Hobbit.

With shaking hands, Danu carefully lifts it from the bottom of the box. Her heart skips a beat at the memory of Severus' hands covering it protectively the first night he had called her to his office and loaned her a book. If she had known then what she knew now, known the way he ripped her heart from her chest with his bare hands, she would do it all over again. She would go through every second of pain, would cry every tear a thousand times over, if the end result was always Lorna. Several pages flutter to the floor as she forgets, for an instant, just how deteriorated the book actually is.

After flipping the cover page open and the musky scent of old, yellowed pages punches her in the face, she is met with the tight, cramped, curling cursive that she knew so well.

"I have found that it is the small, everyday deed of ordinary folks that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love."

You are extraordinary, and there is nothing small about your kindness or love.

Danu slams the book down on the wooden floor, brings her knees to her chest and buries her face between them to dampen the sob that wracks her being. Severus had written that the day he had gone to meet his death. Before they had known of Lorna, before they had known that he would, in fact, live. They had been given a second chance, more time as they had both wanted, they had the rest of their lives together, a miracle that had grown after just one missed potion was asleep upstairs, and Severus was missing her grow. She had learned to crawl, was scooting all over the house and was pulling herself up on the edge of the sofa to stand. She had been screaming what sounded a lot like, "mama" for the last two weeks, and was clapping her hands at everything. Draco, Hermione, Harry, and every one of the Weasley's had witnessed more of Lorna's milestones than Severus had. He will never get this time back.

As she bends down to retrieve the fallen book pages, a folded piece of parchment between the pages remains on the floor. Upon opening the folded parchment, she is met with the same feminine handwriting. The writing is shaky and uneven, indicating a great deal of emotion as it was being written.

Lorna Eileen,

You do not know me, that will be for the best. With any luck, your mother has changed your surname to her own, and you will not know the torment that accompanies the Snape name.

Your mother is a wonderful, strong, loving person. I hope you are not giving her too hard of a time, but if I know you, and you are anything like you were as an infant, I know that you are.

You had been strong-willed and determined since the moment of your conception. I would return from work in the evenings to the sound of you wailing from the street, your poor mother in tears from trying to console you throughout the day. I would take you in my arm, pat your back, and you would instantly quiet down. I expect it both relieved and infuriated her. Don't take that part out on her, she loves you more than anyone else ever will. She has always been a wonderful mother; you were simply a tumultuous child. As exhausting as those days were, I rejoiced in them. The moments that you would look up at me with those big blue eyes and smile at me, the stress would fade away.

She chose the name Eileen after my own mother, your grandmother. She too was a strong woman. You come from many of those. You, of course, will be as well, I have no doubt in that.

You may not believe these words, or perhaps you will never even read them at all. I left for your own good, for you to have a better life than I. Should you one day decide to locate me, I implore you to change your mind. I am not a good man. I will only let you down.

For your own good, please, allow my presence to only exist in your mothers memory and whatever stories she chooses to share with you.

I do love you Lorna, please know that. Time will never change this. You are my daughter, my heart, and my soul. I loved you before you even existed, when you were nothing more than a squirming mass within your mother's womb. I wish I could watch you grow, teach you everything that a father is meant to teach their children. I assure you, Lorna, that it was for the best that I had not been there.

You will grow to be a wonderful woman, and I do wish that I could say that I had a hand in that. I have many regrets in my life, but you are not one of them. You are one of the only good things that I have ever done with my life.

I love you,

Dad

Danu rips the parchment in half and uses every ounce of self-control within to keep from screaming and throwing the note into the fire, then tossing the ashes into the wind as she curses his name. How fucking dare he say that he loves her daughter? How dare he compare Lorna to either her or Eileen? Eileen was strong for her son, because Tobias forced her to be. Danu is strong for her daughter, because Severus forced her to be. Severus may have never lay on hand on her, but he had broken her beyond repair, he was forcing their daughter to grow up without a father. He had left her, left them both, when they needed him the most. In his mind, a single pouch of gold and a half-assed letter that they may never read was enough, as if those two insignificant things would make up for his absence. He knew exactly what she had gone through growing up without parents, had held her while she cried over Sirius not wanting her. She had whispered to him in the night how scared she was that she would not be a good mother; how terrified she was that Lorna would have a childhood that she would either need to heal from or force herself to block out.

—

9 February 2000

Or perhaps it is the tenth, she isn't positive. Danu sits on the stoop in total darkness, watching wet snow fall from the sky and her breath send puffs of white up into the sky as she sobs, her head up to the sky as if begging someone, anyone, to take the pain away.

She had missed her daughters first birthday, forced to work a double shift after someone called out. She had wanted to take the entire day off of work, but had she actually done it, then she wouldn't be able to afford to buy Lorna a birthday gift. Lorna had been sound asleep in Molly's bed next to Arthur when she was finally able to get out of the bookshop and Apparate to the burrow. Molly held her as she sobbed, assured her that Lorna had a wonderful day, and wouldn't even remember her absence on her first birthday. Still though, she felt guilty for missing her first birthday.

This time last year everything had been different. Severus was there, the promise of a lifetime together. He had told her that she could go to work whenever she felt she was ready, and perhaps she may never have been ready to leave Lorna. The option though, was there. They were comfortable, not wealthy by any means, but they had everything they wanted and needed. Danu was struggling, not only mentally, but financially as well. She had no idea how difficult it would be to support herself, a home, and a small child on her meager salary. The bookshop was the only option for her, though. She had no further education outside of Hogwarts, no prospects, no word from Saint Mungo's (not that she would even risk that, knowing that Severus could potentially still be employed there.) Not to mention, the hours were doable and somewhat flexible in case Lorna got sick or needed her to take a day off. Perhaps it had been a foolish mistake to sell the home Severus had left her and move out here. She could have found a small loft or applied for some sort of public housing. This home was her dream, was her desire, but dreams and desires don't pay the bills and keep food on the table. These days, especially since winter had frozen the ground, and work had taken all of her free time from the garden, ultimately killing all of her produce, she had been relying more and more on the Weasley's hospitality to ensure that Lorna was fed well.

Draco had taught her to Apparate shortly before Christmas. Together, they had come up with a wonderful meditation like routine, where she had imagined a long hallway full of doors within her mind. At the end of the hallway, is an open doorway she is to walk through in order to reach the destination she was intending to Apparate to. It took a while, but it had finally worked, and had not splinched herself yet. Theoretically, with more practice, she would be able to shuffle through her mind enough to actually open the doors lining the hallway in her mind to witness some of her repressed memories. For now, though, Apparition was more than enough for her. It made her life much easier, made her feel as if she were finally a true witch.

In the darkness and cold, Danu tries to make sense of all of her emotions. The happiness and freedom she felt living out here, the comfort she felt in Harry, Draco, and the Weasley's, the fact that she had a family for the first time in her life, and the empty Severus sized hole in her heart.

Part of her hoped that he would show up, send a letter, anything as all to acknowledge Lorna's birthday. She could set her anger aside for a day, perhaps even two, so long as he just showed. Christmas had been the same. An entire day of looking over her shoulder, gazing out of the windows in hopes of catching a glimpse of him or an owl delivering a letter. Nothing, not a single word from him. Today would be the same, no matter how late she stayed up sobbing and freezing outside. Severus did not care, and he wasn't coming.

The letter he had written for Lorna and left inside of her copy of The Hobbit was tucked safely inside of the wooden box he had gifted her years prior, the one that held her letter from Sirius, the copy of The Daily Prophet announcing Severus as headmaster, and Severus' letter to her the day he meant to die. One day, when Lorna asked about her father, she would tell her the truth and give her that letter.

A twig snapping in the distance catches her attention. She stands slowly and grips her wand firmly in her hand as she holds her breath to keep the flumes of white escaping her lungs at bay. Her eyes never fully adjust to the darkness, and all of the trees begin to blur together. Finally, after some time and no further sounds, she chalks the sound up to a wild animal and goes back inside.