Ten

White Christmas

Christmas Day at the Marchbanks' family home was an elaborate affair. Despite Griselda Marchbanks being over a century old, she was still a thoughtful and attentive host, who knew how to throw a good party. The guest list was extensive; the branches of the Marchbanks family spread over many generations, and it was customary for relatives to put in an appearance at some point on the twenty-fifth of December.

The festivities were a black-tie event, and Contessa had spent the afternoon in a mulberry-coloured ball gown. Her feet were becoming steadily compressed by the high-heeled sandals which peeped out from underneath her dress.

By the time three o'clock arrived, she was standing barefoot and alone by the window of the library, fiddling absent-mindedly with her Tiger's Eye ring. The drizzly rain came down in waves against the glass as the daylight faded on what had been a dark and dismal Christmas Day.

She wondered if Hogwarts was covered in a blanket of snow and imagined the flickering lights of the castle lighting up the grounds, against the glorious winter sunset. Her mind wandered to Robert Selwyn, alone in Gryffindor Tower. She hoped Severus had kept his promise to look after the boy.

Almost a week had passed since she had left the school, and Contessa was surprised how quickly she had grown tired of the company of her relatives. There seemed little point in returning to Squirrel's Leap. Her house would be cold and undecorated, and there was nothing enticing about spending the remainder of the day alone. Yet it seemed the arms of her extended family were not fulfilling her needs today. She wished she were somewhere else.

After a lengthy internal debate, she slipped on her sandals and returned to the guest room where she retrieved her long, heavy travelling cloak.

Folding the dark woollen material over her arm, Contessa descended the staircase and located her great grandmother in the drawing room. Griselda accepted her apologies with a knowing smile, and Contessa slipped out of the back door, unnoticed by the merry throng.

Stepping outside, the cold air whipped around her bare arms as she threw the cloak around her shoulders. She Transfigured her sandals into a sturdy pair of walking boots which looked rather peculiar under the full skirt of her gown.

Contessa closed her eyes and concentrated on her intended destination. A moment later she inhaled the freezing air of the Scottish Highlands. Hogwarts was silhouetted against the setting sun, eerily similar to how she had pictured it in her mind's eye. Snow dusted the picturesque landscape with a fine layer of white, glowing against the pinkish-purple skyline. The white Christmas warmed Contessa from within as she made her way to the castle gates.

Within a couple of minutes Argus Filch arrived at the main gate, carrying an oil-lamp. The caretaker ushered her through the grounds and led her into the castle's entrance.

The relative warmth of the indoor air welcomed her, and Contessa quickly Transfigured her boots back into sandals. Her toes pinched and prickled in discomfort, and she shifted her feet until they settled. When she looked up again, Filch was several paces in front, on his way to the Great Hall. Contessa lifted up her gown and cloak and trotted after him, trying not to stumble on the flags of the stone floor.

The caretaker opened the double doors to the hall and stood aside for Contessa to enter.

The House tables remained in place, and at the top of the hall, on the dais where the teachers were usually seated, was a long table. It became immediately apparent to Contessa that she had arrived in the middle of Christmas dinner.

Severus was seated at one end of the table, hosting the meal for twelve other Hogwarts inhabitants. The Carrows flanked him on each side, and ten students of varying ages sat along the length of the table. Contessa noticed Robert Selwyn seated facing the door at the opposite end of the table. The boy was heartily tucking in to a plate stacked high with roast potatoes and turkey. In between mouthfuls, he acknowledged her with a warm smile.

Contessa remained still as Filch closed the doors, leaving her standing alone at the back of the hall, suddenly realising how inappropriate her impromptu appearance at Hogwarts might seem.

The low booming sound of the double doors shutting caused Severus to look in Contessa's direction. From a distance, she couldn't determine the subtleties of his facial expression, and her insides numbed with anticipation. He lifted his napkin from his lap and dabbed the corners of his mouth, before dropping the cloth on the table.

The Headmaster rose from his seat and walked down the steps and across the length of the Great Hall. Contessa responded by walking towards him, up the central aisle, to meet him halfway. A wave of light-headedness took her by surprise, and she realised she had forgotten to breathe.

Contessa forced her lungs into action as she approached Severus. His long, pale features were framed by curtains of black hair which swept away from his face as he marched towards her.

She was astounded to see him smiling broadly.

Contessa's eyes flicked to the table of guests behind him, and she felt a warm tightness in her chest as she comprehended their ignorance; with his back to the table and his hair screening his face, Severus's smile was meant only for her.

He looked completely different, in spite of his long cloak and formal teaching robes. His dark eyes glittered like opals, and his wide smile creased the corners of his eyes. Contessa followed the line of his hooked nose to his thin lips, encasing yellowing and fascinatingly crooked teeth. A flutter of nerves sent a sinking stone to the bottom of her stomach, and her cheeks flushed as awareness dawned. There was no way she could deny it – she had returned to Hogwarts to see Severus, not Robert Selwyn.

Severus had never appeared so animated and welcoming as he came to a halt a few feet away from her, but Contessa was painfully aware of the number of eyes peering at her from the dais. Her resulting smile was low-key and belied her true feelings. It was probably just as well under the circumstances – admitting her attraction was permanently off the menu. Notwithstanding, she hoped Severus would read the genuine greeting in her eyes.

Severus extended his arm towards her, and Contessa nodded briefly before stepping closer and curling her hand around his elbow. Their eyes met for one warm, friendly moment, and Contessa watched as Severus adjusted his facial expression to one of cold formality. He then turned on his heel and escorted her to the dinner table.

As they walked she noticed Severus was wearing his Tiger's Eye ring on his little finger. Contessa's eyebrows pinched together as she processed the revelation, and when Severus deposited her at the end of the table next to Robert Selwyn, she hesitated as she let go of his arm. For a split second, the pair of rings inadvertently touched with an instantaneous tingle on their respective fingers.

Severus snatched his hand away and removed his wand from his robes. As he turned to Summon Contessa a chair, she felt a tingling sensation creeping up her arm, across her shoulders, and finally disappearing down her spine. With a shiver, she wondered if Severus had experienced the same phenomenon.

She never found out. Severus gestured for her to take a seat at the end of the table and departed abruptly for the opposite end. Contessa removed her travelling cloak and folded it onto the back of her chair. As she sat down, a place-setting appeared before her.

The young Gryffindor welcomed Contessa with a smile as he munched his food. She nodded to the Slytherin boy across from him, who appeared to be the same age as Robert, and she wished them a Merry Christmas.

"This is a surprise, Miss," Robert said in a stilted voice which clearly didn't wish to communicate too much affection in front of other students. "Why'd you come back here for Christmas?"

Realising she didn't have a particularly good answer for the boy's question, she looked towards the impressive banquet.

"That'd be for the excellent food," she lied, inwardly regretting having already eaten one Christmas dinner. She wasn't sure the dress she was wearing could take the strain of another course of roast turkey.

Severus resumed his seat at the head of the table and watched her through the tunnel of students with a slight smirk.

Three thick slices of turkey breast appeared on her plate.

Contessa stifled a groan, wishing she had thought things through before turning up at Hogwarts unannounced. Looking at the white meat, she realised she was going to need cranberry sauce and lots of it, if she was going to survive this ordeal. Her eyes roved the table for the accompaniment, but before she found it she noticed a large plate of Brussels sprouts. Her insides flipped, and she suspected she might turn green if she ate any more.

She reached out for the gravy, and a moment later the Brussels sprout platter was hovering mid-air in front of her. Contessa searched the table for the person responsible, only to find Severus watching her with great interest. She had a fleeting suspicion that he had read her mind. Shaking the thought away, she noticed the Tiger's Eye ring was still tingling on her little finger. Was Severus experiencing the same?

Their eyes met, and he gave a small nod, before turning to continue his conversation with the Carrows. Contessa swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

Feeling self-conscious, she reluctantly accepted a small serving of sprouts, aware of the hairs on her arms standing on end in the cool air of the hall. The temperature was several degrees below that of the house from which she had recently departed, and her shoulders felt uncomfortably cold.

A glass goblet of mulled wine appeared on the table before her, and Contessa gratefully took a sip, appreciating the warming effect it had on her body and mind.

And it matches your dress, too, she heard herself think. What? Why would I think that?

She raised her head to see Severus studying her intently, his lips curled in amusement. Now Contessa truly was suspicious. What was he doing?

How did you...?

Severus set down his knife and fork on the edges of his plate, as if pausing for a breather, and he rested his chin on his hand. His little finger tapped his jaw-line gently. The silver ring caught Contessa's eye, glinting against the golden-brown stone. Her gaze shifted to Severus's eyes and back again to his ring. He responded with another smirk and picked up his knife and fork, resuming his meal as if nothing had happened.

---

After the onslaught of her second Christmas dinner, Contessa Floo'd to the Headmaster's office to find Severus perched on the edge of his desk. His cloak was folded on the back of his chair, and his arms were crossed casually, awaiting her arrival.

"What's going on?" she asked without preamble.

"And a Merry Christmas to you too," Severus replied sarcastically.

Contessa opened her mouth to speak before thinking twice and closing it again. It appeared Severus held the upper hand.

Just how things are meant to be, Contessa, she heard herself think. She shook her head with an irritated twitch. Pardon? I call myself Tess... Who is that?

She looked again at Severus, and his smirk turned into a grin. With an exaggerated movement, he removed the Tiger's Eye ring from his little finger and turned it over with his fingertips.

"It would appear our rings have learned a few new tricks," he said lazily.

Contessa approached him as he offered the ring out to her, placing it in the palm of her hand. "What have you done to them?"

"I've done nothing," Severus replied defensively. "Something changed when you used the rings at Godric's Hollow. Since then, when the connection is triggered whilst we are wearing the rings, I've been able to hear your thoughts."

Contessa gaped. "My thoughts? How?"

"I'm not certain. I only grasped the full significance of it today, when I heard your thoughts in my head, spoken in my voice as if they were my own. It happened once before. That's how I knew which apple to choose at Halloween; I briefly heard your thoughts. It seems the rings touching today made the effect permanent."

"No way," Contessa marvelled. She slipped her ring off her finger and placed them side by side in her palm. "I don't understand how that's possible." She walked over to Magda McDougall's portrait. "Has this happened before?"

The former Headmistress regarded her with a furrowed brow. Her brown ringlets tumbled across her shoulder as she leant forward and studied the rings in Contessa's outstretched hand. "It's unheard of, Tess, and it's not what they were designed for. They were merely meant to link the senses of sight and sound." Magda cast Severus a suspicious look. "What have you been doing to them?"

Severus balked slightly but recovered quickly. "The rings have linked our emotions right from the start," he said coolly. "I noticed it the first time we wore them."

"Then the Colligomens Charm must have been performed incorrectly," the portrait surmised.

"No," Contessa replied. "I'm fairly sure it wasn't."

"Well, you must have been messing around with them. Have you cast any other charms on the rings?"

"I cast a Disillusionment Charm on my ring at Halloween," Severus confessed.

"And I used it to guide my Apparition to Godric's Hollow," Contessa added sheepishly. She bit her lip before she spoke again. "The rings accidentally linked again when we Apparated back to Hogwarts."

Magda shook her head in despair. "It's little wonder their magical properties have been distorted. However, none of that explains the transference of emotions the first time they were used. What happened before you linked the rings?"

Severus's breath was audible as he remembered the sequence of events. He turned to face Contessa. "You cast an Engorgement Charm on my ring so it would fit my finger."

"Yes, I did. But, I had to..."

"No, you didn't," Magda admonished her. "Didn't Hector tell you to rub the inside of the band three times, to expand and contract the metal?"

"No," Contessa breathed.

"There you have it," Magda said with mingled triumph and regret. "Goodness knows what you've done to those rings with all that exposure to unnecessary magic. It's a small miracle they're still working."

Contessa handed Severus's ring back to him with a sigh. He removed the silver chain from underneath his collar and threaded it through the ring before closing the clasp around his neck. He tucked the jewellery out of sight as he watched Contessa place her ring back on her finger.

"We'll have to be more careful from now on," she said heavily.

Severus nodded.

They walked away from the portrait and towards the stairs to the minstrel's gallery.

"Hang on a minute," Contessa said as Severus placed his foot on the bottom stair. "Why were you wearing your ring today? You told me you don't normally wear jewellery and didn't want the ring to be noticed."

Severus, for once, appeared on the back-foot. His eyes narrowed to slits. "I wasn't expecting you to reappear at Hogwarts until the New Year. It therefore seemed safe to do so."

Contessa noticed he had evaded her question. Perhaps if Severus's ring were still on his finger, she might be able hear his thoughts. She wondered dimly if Severus's skill in Occlumency would prevent her from hearing his private thoughts, should he choose to block her. "That doesn't explain why you were wearing it," she said slyly.

"Nor have you explained your unexpected presence at Hogwarts today," he replied sleekly.

A sudden wave of relief crashed over Contessa; she was eternally grateful that Severus was no longer wearing his ring.

---

The Forest of Dean

Severus shared a drink of Firewhisky with Contessa before she made her excuses and left for the Marchbanks' family home for the remainder of the Christmas holidays.

With his boots and frock coat thrown across the living room floor, Severus spent the rest of the evening lying on the sofa in front of the fire, reading a book in an attempt to lull himself to sleep.

The Tiger's Eye ring tingled occasionally against his chest, and he wondered if Contessa were fiddling with her ring; he had often observed her fidgeting with the silver band when she was daydreaming. He imagined her looking bored during an evening of wearisome drunken ramblings and games of charades.

The erratic tingling of the ring was undoubtedly exacerbating his insomnia, but Severus found its presence reassuring, and he decided to keep it on the chain around his neck, regardless of the interruption to his solitude.

During the early hours of Boxing Day morning, the cold tickle of the ring against his skin awoke him from a light sleep, and with a low growl, Severus arose to retrieve his frock coat and boots from the floor. Dressing quickly, he descended the stairs to the Headmaster's office, intending to awaken Magda McDougall and question her further on the history of the rings.

However, when he arrived in the circular office, he was surprised to see a number of the portraits were wide awake and muttering to each other.

Severus turned to face Dumbledore's portrait.

"What's going on?" he asked gruffly.

"Harry and Hermione have been packing up their tent again. We're waiting for Phineas to return with news."

Severus was hit by an instant wave of alertness.

"Headmaster!"* cried Phineas Nigellus Black as he rushed into his frame, slightly out of breath. "They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood..."*

A sickening surge of bile struck Severus's throat. As he turned to face the Slytherin Headmaster's portrait, a rush of blood to his head caused his ear drums to prickle at the sound of the hated slur. "Do not use that word!"*

"...the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!"*

Lightness descended to Severus's stomach. The Forest of Dean would be a large area to search, but he was confident he could find Potter.

"Good. Very good!"* Dumbledore said excitedly. "Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under the conditions of need and valour – and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him..."*

"I know,"* Severus cut him off. He had spent plenty of time preparing for this mission, and his heart quickened now the chance had arrived.

He reached inside the compartment behind Dumbledore's portrait and removed the gleaming sword of Gryffindor. Severus fastened a sword belt around his hips and sheathed the weapon inside the protective scabbard. Hurriedly, he moved behind the desk and collected his heavy travelling cloak.

"And you still aren't going to tell me why it's so important to give Potter the sword?"* Severus asked Dumbledore. He knew this would be the last opportunity to extract an answer from the former Headmaster.

"No, I don't think so,"* Dumbledore replied contemplatively. "He will know what to do with it."*

Severus accepted the reply with resignation; it was no more than he had expected. He turned and headed for the door.

"And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap..."*

With his fingers on the door handle, Severus looked back at Dumbledore once more.

"Don't worry, Dumbledore,"* he reassured him. "I have a plan..."*

He left the office and Summoned his broomstick, and within a few minutes Severus had passed unseen out of the castle and Disapparated.

---

He arrived in the Forest of Dean in pitch blackness and knew it was not the ideal time to begin the search. Moonlight reflected from the snow-covered tops of trees as he flew above, surveying the area and planning the practicalities of finding Potter and Miss Granger.

Severus had charmed his cloak to protect against the biting cold wind of the mid-winter night, and whilst he didn't need a broomstick to enable him to fly, he felt it prudent to concentrate his efforts on locating Lily's son and not divert unnecessary energy elsewhere.

When night became day, Severus sought refuge in a small Muggle village where he procured some food. The Tiger's Eye ring around his neck started to tingle again, and it occurred to him that the Marchbanks family resided not too far away.

As appealing as the idea might be, he quickly dismissed the notion of turning up on Contessa's doorstep for a cooked breakfast. He was the enemy, as far as her family were concerned, and his sudden appearance at their home would seem outrageous. In fact he couldn't quite believe the absurd thought had even crossed his mind.

And so he spent the day circling the forest under a Disillusionment Charm, batting snowflakes away from his eyes as flurries of snow sprinkled the trees below him. As the sun set behind heavy clouds on the horizon, Severus finally found what he was looking for.

Despite an impressive array of protective enchantments, a light dusting of snow had found its way through the canopy of trees and had settled on the magical tent housing Potter and Miss Granger, making its extent visible to the naked eye.

Severus didn't want to risk Potter catching sight of him as he laid the sword within spitting distance of the campsite, and so he waited for darkness to descend. During his second sweep of the area, invisible under his Disillusionment Charm, Severus spotted a red-headed male wandering the forest alone. Upon further investigation, he identified the boy as none other than Ronald Weasley.

With a flash of inspiration, Severus knew the ideal opportunity had arisen. Not only could he pass the sword of Gryffindor onto Lily's son, but he could also reunite Potter with his sidekick. Killing two birds with one stone would ultimately do everyone a favour; it would minimise the risk of the Weasley boy being captured by a Death Eater and tortured for information on Potter's whereabouts.

In the fading twilight, Severus made his way back to the campsite and located a frozen pool within a short walking distance from the tent. After judiciously casting a Silencing Charm, Severus used magic to melt and refreeze the ice, placing the sword underneath the icy surface of the pond without making a sound. The only noise came from his cloak as it dragged across the frozen leaves as he made his way to a secluded spot behind two oak trees. A gap between the trunks provided an eye-level peep-hole, perfect for monitoring Potter's movements.

Sitting propped up against a sheltered tree trunk and wrapped in his warm, enchanted cloak, Severus waited for Weasley to find his way inside the visual range of the pool. He hadn't slept much in the last two days, and Severus started to doze, losing track of time, listening to the scurrying sounds of forest creatures rummaging through the frozen leaves on the ground.

He was awoken by the distant sound of a young man calling out Harry Potter's name. Severus dusted off lingering snowflakes from his cloak and mounted his broomstick. A swift search of the area revealed the presence of Ronald Weasley staggering around in the dark, tripping up over tree roots and clutching Dumbledore's old Deluminator.

The red-headed teenager called out, "Harry!" and "Hermione!" into the night air with an increasing degree of exasperation.

Severus returned to his viewpoint by the pool and stood quietly in the velvet blackness of the forest for what felt like an eternity, waiting for Weasley to wander close enough to the campsite.

When the time arrived, Severus closed his eyes and unlocked the part of his mind which housed his happiest memories. For one long, blissful moment, Severus recalled Lily, aged eleven, sitting under the dappled shade of a willow tree by the river near her home. She was lying, stretched out like a cat, with Severus sitting by her side, listening to her quiet voice singing an unfamiliar Muggle tune. Her green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the flickering light of the riverbank.

Severus raised his wand, and his Patronus sprang to life. The brightness of the silver doe burned into Severus's retinas, momentarily dazzling him as she stared wide-eyed at her creator. Her beautiful eyes were framed with long lashes, and her snout trembled as her cloven feet shifted on the frozen forest floor.

Recovering himself quickly, Severus directed his Patronus towards the campsite, hoping it would act as a shining beacon for the Weasley boy. He watched the deer glide effortlessly across the ground, picking its way slowly towards the tent, and he awaited the outcome with bated breath.

His Patronus came to a halt outside Potter's tent. With an exhalation of relief, Severus saw the boy emerging with his wand at the ready as he stepped outside the confines of the camp's enchantments.

Severus Summoned the doe Patronus back, in the direction of the pool, and he hoped that Potter would follow, curious and unafraid. Potter would know a Patronus could not be conjured by Dark Magic, and Severus hoped that the familiar corporeal form of the Patronus would reassure the boy.

Severus caught a glimpse of Lily's son as he approached the pool, and he looked dreadful; black rings underneath his eyes and overgrown, untidy hair. He was a mere shadow of his father, illuminated by the white glare of the doe. The boy came alone, having chosen not to awaken Miss Granger, and Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes. Potter was a typical Gryffindor – swayed by fame and glory. Yet again he had failed to apply logic and neglected to ensure his safety by keeping his allies close at hand.

Potter was lucky that Severus had had the foresight to wait for Weasley's arrival in the vicinity; otherwise he would have had to save the blundering idiot from certain death once more.

The doe reached the frozen pool, and Severus commanded it to hold position, waiting for Potter to make a final approach. As the boy came within a hair's breadth of the shining corporeal Patronus, Severus cancelled the charm with a flick of his wand, plunging himself and Potter into total darkness.

Severus's eyes adapted quickly, having not spent too long looking directly at the Patronus, and a moment later the newly-ignited light from Potter's wand provided a focal point.

The boy stood motionless for a few long moments, listening to the sounds of the forest. Potter's wand-light lifted higher, searching the trees for the wizard who had conjured the Patronus, but Severus's vantage point behind the oak trees provided him with ample cover.

Finally, Potter noticed the frozen pool at his feet, and he circled it before dropping to his knees at the edge of the icy surface.

Severus stopped himself from exhaling audibly. It was about time.

The light flickered as the boy raised his wand again and searched the nearby area cautiously. Even though the extent of the illumination could not reach him, Severus didn't move a muscle and felt some relief that Potter was at least thinking things through before acting.

The boy's first attempt was to magically Summon the sword from the icy depths of the pool. Severus stifled a groan of derision. Potter's mediocrity came as no surprise to him, but he was irritated by the distinct lack of intelligence. Had the boy inherited nothing from his mother?

Potter stood up and headed off to walk around the pool and murmured, "Help."*

Severus smirked. The boy was perhaps getting warmer, and Severus smiled at the unintentional pun.

Eventually Potter stopped, tilted his head backwards and sighed. His hot breath froze in spirals in the night air. He glanced around one more time, searching for onlookers and then began to peel off his many layers of clothing.

Severus grunted inwardly. One thing the boy had inherited was his father's tendency towards unnecessary and conspicuous heroics. Potter was a stranger to discretion; even when he thought nobody was looking, his behaviour cried out for attention. A tawny owl hooted somewhere in the distance, and Severus shook his head disdainfully. As if the boy needed encouraging.

Potter stood barefoot, wearing only his underwear, and he pointed his wand at the frozen surface of the water.

"Diffindo."*

The ice cracked with a thundering clap which reverberated through the trees. Although Severus cringed inwardly at the boy drawing unnecessary attention to himself, he also realised the sound would act as a signal flare for Weasley, whose presence was long overdue.

He watched disbelievingly as Potter placed his wand on the ground beside the pool. How could the boy be such a dunderhead?

Before Severus knew it, Potter had jumped feet first into the pool and immersed himself up to his shoulders. After a brief moment's pause, he disappeared under the chunks of ice floating on the surface of the water.

The boy was underwater for an unbearably long time, and Severus watched with a tight knot twisting in his gut, grateful for the small mercy of the wand-light which would act like a talisman for Weasley. If the witless wonder didn't make an appearance in the next few seconds, Severus was going to have to rescue Potter himself and risk exposing his cover.

Then, as if on cue, Ronald Weasley tripped forwards through the trees, a mere matter of feet away from Severus's hidey-hole, and he dived fully-clothed into the pool of water.

After a few seconds of frantic splashing and gasping, Weasley pulled Potter and the sword of Gryffindor simultaneously out of the forest pool.

Severus heaved a sigh of relief as he watched Potter clumsily pulling on his clothes, shaking with shock.

The deed was done.

Severus mounted his broomstick and flew silently away from the poolside scene.

He had reunited the golden trio and bequeathed the sword of Gryffindor to The Boy Who Lived.

Now all Potter had to do was save the world.

---

Once a Year

Spinner's End turned out to be a veritable treasure trove for Contessa, and she returned to Squirrel's Leap with over a dozen publications from Severus's personal library. She quickly realised why Severus had chosen to store so many of his books at home; it was unlikely Dumbledore would have allowed his Potions master to bring such literature into his school. Contessa noted wryly that the current Headmaster would probably have no such qualms.

Contessa spent the remaining two weeks of the Christmas holidays perusing various texts on the Imperius Curse and making a shortlist of potential potion ingredients and methods of preparation.

As the start of the school term approached, she packed her trunk a couple of days early and called to see her uncle at the bakery to collect a special order, which she fitted carefully into her luggage before heading off to Hogwarts.

Darkness had descended by the time she made her way carefully across the icy grounds of the castle, escorted by a silent Argus Filch. Mrs Norris hovered at Contessa's feet, sniffed the levitated trunk and miaowed with a hint of frustration.

Trying not to trip up over the caretaker's pet, Contessa felt the fleeting tingle of the Tiger's Eye ring, which she was now wearing on a chain around her neck. After the events of Christmas Day, she had promptly made a decision to avoid temptation; as interesting as it might be to covertly drop in on Severus's thoughts and feelings, she knew it would be a wholly unacceptable breach of privacy. Moreover, she was concerned that Severus would do the same to her, and she couldn't afford the risk that he might discover what she truly felt for him.

The ring had been tingling but stopping short of turning cold intermittently for the last fortnight. Contessa surmised that Severus was fiddling with his own ring absentmindedly, causing her band to alter its state. She found the sensation, and the thought which accompanied it, very comforting.

Alone again and on her way down to her dungeon quarters, Contessa crossed Alecto Carrow on the stairs. The fat, squat witch stepped to one side to allow Contessa to pass.

The Death Eater's eyes narrowed and she grinned malevolently. "You're back early."

Contessa felt a hot iron burning somewhere deep in her abdomen. "I am," she replied. "Not that it's any business of yours."

"Couldn't stay away from your Slytherin master for a moment longer, eh?" Alecto rasped.

Contessa felt indignation rise to her throat, and her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath, resolving to play along with the game to avoid suspicion. "I would appreciate it, Professor Carrow, if the Headmaster and I are left undisturbed tonight. I have a surprise for Professor Snape."

Alecto's top lip disappeared into a thin line, and she raised her jaw, looking down her bulbous nose at Contessa. "No doubt," she said suggestively. "I'm sure that can be arranged. Snape's spent the week lurking in the dungeons; I imagine he'll be looking forward to his pet returning to the castle."

The podgy witch issued a self-satisfied smirk and trudged up the steps, leaving Contessa bristling and biting down on her tongue. She set off down the stairs for her quarters at a brisk march, boots clicking mercilessly on the stone floor of the corridor.

With a flurry of activity, Contessa unpacked and then Floo'd a request to Binky and the house-elves in the kitchen. Pausing at the mirror in her bedroom, she looked at her reflection and ran her fingers through her long, knotted brown hair. She wore a polo-neck jumper and jeans, and as she contemplated which clothes to change into, she realised her jaw was set tightly and her teeth were still grinding together after her exchange with Alecto Carrow.

Sighing, she willed herself to let go, knowing Severus didn't need to be on the receiving end of her untenable annoyance, particularly not on a day which came but once a year.

When Contessa slid the inconspicuous edition of Knitting with Kneazle-fur from the bookshelf outside the Headmaster's quarters and knocked on his door, Severus took a while to answer. Eventually the door creaked open, and suddenly Contessa was glad that she'd decided not to bother with a change of clothes.

Matted hair hung about Severus's face in an untidy, black mess. He wore black trousers, socks, and a rumpled white shirt with sleeves rolled at the cuffs. The shirt was unbuttoned midway down his chest, and his Tiger's Eye ring glinted against his pale skin.

Even in this crumpled, scruffy-looking state, Severus still managed to appear impressive. Contessa felt her heart pound against her ribs, and she was grateful, yet again, that he did not have access to her thoughts. The realisation left her momentarily dumbstruck, and they regarded each other as if neither were sure of the other's reason for being there.

Severus appeared to collect himself first. "You're back." His voice cracked with lack of use.

Contessa nodded uncertainly.

Severus cleared his throat and appraised his attire uncomfortably. "I should change," he said, starting to turn away.

"No," Contessa replied without delay. "There's no need. You're fine as you are."

As Severus opened the door to let her in, Contessa retrieved her wand and Summoned the square cardboard box she had brought from home. With one flick the box Vanished to reveal a pannettone cake. The candles decorating the cake lit themselves as she cast a non-verbal spell.

Flickering light reflected on Severus's startled face as Contessa smiled and said, "Happy birthday, Severus."

Severus's countenance did not crack into a smile. Instead his brow furrowed causing two deep vertical lines to appear between his eyebrows. He looked at her with heavily-lidded eyes. "How did you know?"

"Oh, I have my means," Contessa replied breezily, hoping to turn the atmosphere into something cheerful. She looked past Severus and into his dimly lit quarters. "Are you going to invite me in?"

Severus appeared to pull himself out of a trance and stepped aside, allowing her passage through the doorway.

Contessa levitated the cake onto the coffee table and turned again, standing to face him. She wriggled awkwardly as she met his intent gaze. "I thought you'd be pleased," she ventured.

He shifted on his feet. "I am," he said in a neutral, expressionless tone.

"You don't seem to be," Contessa said quietly.

Severus looked at the birthday cake again, lost in thought. Eventually he said, "It's been a long time since..."

A heavy, compressing sensation struck Contessa in the chest as she finished Severus's sentence in her head. A long time since anyone had remembered his birthday. Her thumbs found the back pockets of her jeans and twisted against the rough fabric.

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Not yet."

Contessa moved towards the small dining table shoved up against the stone wall of the living room and gestured for Severus to take a seat.

He looked back at the birthday cake glowing brightly on the coffee table. "What about the candles?" Severus said with a peculiar expression on his face.

"They're bewitched; they'll last for an hour or so. Come, sit down."

Contessa summoned the Headmaster's house-elf with a click of her fingers, and Binky appeared at the side of the table with two servings of Lancashire hotpot and a bottle of red wine. Severus approached the table wide-eyed, running his fingers through his unkempt hair as he took his seat opposite her.

"I don't know what to say," he said, his voice somehow deep and hoarse in equal measure.

"Then say nothing. Eat," Contessa said as she prodded the top layer of sliced potatoes with her fork. The hotpot issued a whirl of steam.

Severus served the wine and held up his glass in toast. Contessa mirrored the gesture and clinked hers against his. This time Severus returned a small smile.

Conversation was stilted at first, as they became accustomed to each other's presence again. But by the time they had requisitioned extra portions of pickled red cabbage from the kitchens and poured their second glass of wine, it seemed as though no time had passed. Contessa was pleased to learn that the sword of Gryffindor had been successfully bequeathed, and she sensed a weight had been lifted from Severus's shoulders.

"I saw Alecto in the corridor before," Contessa said. "She told me you'd been spending a lot of time in the dungeons."

Severus nodded as he swirled his wine around his glass. "I've been busy preparing bases to give you a head-start on your Potions project. There's a large cauldronful of precursors for Truth Potion, as I thought that a good place to begin. I've also made a base for Memory Potion."

"Brilliant," Contessa said as her breath caught in her throat. "That's just what I'd been thinking, too."

Animated discussion followed as they shared their ideas for a potion which might repel the Imperius Curse. It seemed Severus had spent a great deal of time researching the topic, and some common themes emerged as their plans for experimentation began to crystallise.

After they finished the main course, Severus blew out his birthday candles and served a portion of cake for himself and Contessa. Later, she Floo'd to her quarters to retrieve her research, and together they spread the parchments across the coffee table, poring over the information and methodically constructing a plan for the project.

Several cups of coffee later, Contessa and Severus had assembled a list of potion ingredients which Severus would arrange to be purchased, plus around a dozen ideas for potions, and some suggestions for their respective antidotes. Contessa was pleasantly surprised how efficient their partnership had been; Severus seemed to relish the mental challenge and had submerged himself in their shared intellect and creativity.

When their efforts and insights began to wane, Contessa helped herself to another slice of cake and Severus followed suit.

"This is good cake," he said as he relaxed into the cushions of the antique sofa across the table from Contessa. "The house-elves must have a new recipe."

"Actually, no," Contessa replied after a mouthful. "I picked it up from my mum's bakery on my way back to Hogwarts."

"Then your mother is to be commended."

"Well, it was her recipe – she was born in Italy, you see. But it's my uncle who runs the bakery now. Mum passed away ten years ago."

Severus straightened in his seat. "My apologies; I didn't know."

Contessa could sense the cogs turning in his head as he put his plate down on the table.

"You didn't inherit the bakery?" he asked, clearly curious.

"No, Mum left it to her brother. I was always destined for a magical career at the Ministry, so she passed the shop onto her Muggle relatives. Squirrel's Leap was my dad's, though. He left it to Mum in his will, and it was passed to me when she died."

"I didn't realise both of your parents were dead," Severus said quietly.

"Dad died during my fourth year at Hogwarts. He was in the original Order of the Phoenix."

"You have no brothers or sisters?"

"I have a brother. He's a high-flyer and works for Gringotts overseas. I haven't seen him for over a year." Contessa lifted the silver chain from underneath her jumper and ran the Tiger's Eye ring back and forth, along its length.

Severus smirked. "That tickles, you know."

The ring around Severus's neck caught Contessa's eye as it sparkled against his chest. "Oh, I wondered about that over Christmas," she remarked. "My ring tingles occasionally too; I thought it might be you."

His lips parted as if to speak, but then Severus's lips pursed. "I see you've taken to wearing your ring around your neck," he observed.

Contessa felt her cheeks flush slightly. "Yes, well, I didn't want you to drop into my mind at inopportune moments. Especially since I hear your thoughts in my own voice; it's very disconcerting."

"Occlumency should prevent that," he said matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure. However, I didn't think it wise to allow you access to my subconscious mind whilst I was asleep," she replied dryly.

Severus made a show of flinching and he frowned. "You do not trust me?"

Contessa laughed. She chose not to answer.

"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't," Severus said lightly. "My idle brain has concocted several Imperius scenarios. And I confess my disappointment at missing the opportunity to place suggestive thoughts in your head whilst you were dining with the unbearable toffs in your family."

"Excuse me," Contessa said haughtily. "There are no 'toffs' in my family!"

Severus laughed once. "But they do know how to bake a decent cake."

Contessa tutted loudly but smiled at his candour. Her eyes drifted across the coffee table, littered with her parchments and Severus's books. She gathered the documents together in a pile then returned to fiddling with the ring around her neck as she stifled a yawn.

"I'm sorry you've had to spend your birthday doing Potions research," she said, feeling a bit guilty.

"On the contrary," Severus replied, "I can think of fewer more enjoyable ways to spend an evening."

Contessa noticed Severus's eyes tracing her fingers as they rubbed against the silver band looped through her necklace. Severus placed the tip of his index finger inside the Tiger's Eye ring around his own neck.

I'm glad you're here.

Contessa felt certain the voice she heard in her head was not her own.

Tentatively, she offered, So am I.

---

Broken Eggshells

Rusty hinges creaked as the apothecary's front door opened, and a short, balding man stepped outside, pushing his gold-rimmed glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.

"Good morning, Professor Snape."

Severus shrugged away the snowflakes which had settled on his cloak whilst waiting for the shopkeepers of Hogsmeade to open for their brisk weekend trade. He wanted to be in and out with the minimum of fuss, so he could Apparate to Diagon Alley before the hordes of Saturday shoppers arrived.

He waited patiently as the proprietor cleared snow from the front steps of the potion supplies shop. "Good morning, Arbuthnot."

Severus's hasty departure from Hogwarts without breakfast was evinced by a gurgling rumble of his stomach as he entered the dark, airless establishment. The heady aroma of potion ingredients assailed his nostrils, welcoming him.

Arbuthnot shuffled across the floorboards and settled himself behind the till, peering through his owlish glasses at Severus.

"What can I do for you, Headmaster?"

Severus withdrew a roll of parchment from inside his robes and placed it on the high wooden shop counter. "This is to be delivered to Hogwarts today."

Arbuthnot unrolled the list of potion supplies and straightened it out on the counter, perusing the parchment with an occasional nod or mumble. Eventually, he looked up at Severus through the top of his glasses.

"I've got most of these in stock, but I'm out of salamander blood, and I haven't much powdered Graphorn horn. Only a couple of pinches, I'm afraid. And it's expensive."

"I'll take it all," Severus said without hesitation. "Charge it to the Hogwarts account."

"The salamander blood will be here next week. Do you want it when it arrives?"

"No. I'm going to Diagon Alley; I'll get it there."

With a curt nod, Severus swept out of the shop, and he Disapparated on the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

Within the hour, Severus had purchased the missing item from his list at Slug and Jigger's Apothecary on Diagon Alley. He had also procured another ingredient from an associate on Knockturn Alley with minimal application of duress. It was advantageous when black market traders turned out to be ex-pupils; not only were they more co-operative, they could also be persuaded to discount generously.

When he arrived back at Hogwarts, Severus found the parcel from Hogsmeade waiting for him, and he immediately set off for the dungeons, checking Filch had followed his instructions to clear out an old staff room.

In his heyday, Professor Slughorn had used a chamber in the dungeons to house small, informal get-togethers for his favourite students. Severus had never been invited to join the Slug Club, but Lily's presence had been requested at Slughorn's soirees on many occasions.

Following the Potions master's retirement, the room had fallen into disuse. Slughorn had used it again upon his return, but the Slug Club had not reformed after the summer holiday, and the old chamber lay empty once more.

Stripped bare of its contents, the pokey chamber now appeared much bigger. Severus stowed his parcel of supplies on the floor, out of harm's way, and he set about Transfiguring the furniture. An old sideboard became a new laboratory bench, complete with two small cauldrons, and he placed two brown leather armchairs and a footstool upon the hearth rug in front of the fire.

When all the necessary equipment was in position, the two large cauldronfuls of potion bases he'd made over Christmas were levitated into the new laboratory. After placing the wrapped box of ingredients on the new workbench, he left the room, locking the door behind him with the succession of protective enchantments he used on his own home at Spinner's End.

Pacing down the corridor, Severus's footsteps seemed to bounce on the stone flags, and his chest tightened as his breath caught in his throat. Severus found he had knocked on Contessa's door and was waiting outside his old quarters before he even realised he'd arrived. He swallowed a hard lump in his throat and rubbed his palms against his frock-coat.

Eventually, a tousled, sleepy-looking Contessa answered the door. Her hand moved the sleeve of her pyjamas further up her wrist, searching for a watch which wasn't there.

"Severus – what are you...? What time is it?"

Severus noticed his mouth had turned dry and his tongue seemed to be glued in place. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Just after ten."

Contessa nodded groggily, pushing her hair from her eyes and squinting slightly.

"Can I come in?" he asked when the offer was not forthcoming.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Contessa said as she opened her door further and followed him into the living room.

Severus found himself biting his fingernails as he waited on the sofa. Contessa reappeared a few minutes later wearing jeans and a dark green sweater, pulling a brush through her long brown hair.

"Am I presentable?" she asked, as she tucked her fingers into her front pockets and twisted her waist slightly.

Severus's lip twitched. He consciously suppressed the urge to smile and rose to his feet, offering her his hand after he had thrown a handful of Floo Powder into the fire.

They stepped into the Floo Network together, and Severus guided their transportation to the new Potions laboratory. When they arrived Contessa let go of Severus's hand, gasping with surprise.

She looked around the space, clearly recognising it as Slughorn's old bolt-hole, and she walked across the room to run her fingers along the surface of the workbench. Her head turned, and she looked at Severus with wide eyes. A smile curled around her mouth, and her eyes sparkled.

"Well, what do you think?" he asked her.

"It's perfect," she replied reverently, looking around the room once again as she walked back towards him.

This time, he forgot to conceal his smile and Contessa beamed in return. Her shoulders rounded suddenly and her lips parted, and Severus was struck by the unerring sense that she was about to reach out and hug him.

Instinctively his body tensed and he dipped his head to stare downwards at the floor, paying close attention to the threadbare rug at his feet, his fight-or-flight sense freezing him in place.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Contessa's shoulders drop and her posture straighten, and he felt safe to look up again. She met his gaze fleetingly before looking quickly away, knowing she had been shunned.

Crestfallen that he had pushed her away with his lifetime's habit of keeping people at arm's length, Severus felt a sharp spear of disappointment arch through his abdomen, eventually sinking into the floor beneath his feet.

Contessa's hands were stuffed into the front pockets of her jeans when she spoke again, and a wobble was evident in her voice. "I didn't expect you to go to all this trouble."

Severus shifted on his feet and clasped his hands behind his back. "It needed sorting out before the start of term; I don't expect to have much spare time when the students arrive back tomorrow. We need a discreet place to work from, so Horace won't become suspicious."

As he talked he was aware he was smoothing over the cracks, minimising what had just happened between them, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if she'd ever offer again.

Contessa wandered over to the leaded windows set high in the dungeon walls. She stood on tip-toes and peered out at the thready, white light of the winter morning. "Who knows about this place?"

"Only you and I. Filch is aware I've appropriated the room but doesn't know what I'm using it for. My house-elf has been instructed to answer our summons from here."

Contessa seemed to perk up. "We have room service?" she asked with a small giggle. "Excellent!"

"The door to the laboratory will remain locked, and we can access the room through the Floo. It's connected to your quarters and to the Headmaster's office and quarters, so we can come and go as we please." Severus paused for a moment. "I've also taken the liberty of establishing a connection between your quarters and my own. It seemed... prudent."

Contessa's head rolled backwards as if hit by a Stunning Spell, and Severus suddenly felt very warm underneath his snug-fitting high collar. He moved away from the fireplace, but this did nothing to quell the woodpecker drilling holes in his windpipe.

"You've thought of everything," Contessa said when she recovered herself. "It's like our own Room of Requirement."

The woodpecker in Severus's throat ceased its endeavour and vanished as he took a long breath out.

"Open the parcel," he said, gesturing to the box on the worktop.

Contessa frowned and laughed softly as she walked towards the workspace. "It isn't my birthday for months."

Severus approached the bench from the other side and pushed the box in her direction before sitting down on a stool. His arms rested on the table as he watched her pick at the strings of the parcel.

She sat down on an adjacent stool and tore the brown paper from the bundle, gingerly removing the contents and placing them on the bench. A carton of brightly patterned Fwooper eggshells caused a gleeful intake of breath, but it was the tiny silver tin of caviar-like eggs which surprised her most.

"Merlin's beard, Severus. Where did you get these?" Contessa lifted the circular tin to her nose and took a tentative sniff. "Aren't Runespoor eggs black market?"

"I've been to Knockturn Alley this morning."

"You really have been busy whilst I've been asleep," she said, sounding impressed as she surveyed the selection of potions supplies. Suddenly her temple creased, and her hand moved to rub her midriff. "Well, I can't get started on an empty stomach," she said lightly. "Will you join me for breakfast?"

Severus clicked his fingers, and Binky appeared within moments. They enjoyed two full English breakfasts and a large, steaming pot of tea as they discussed which combination of ingredients would form their initial trial-run.

A couple of hours later the laboratory was ready for the first batch of experimental potion; Severus had raided the school stores for the remaining basic ingredients, and Contessa had retrieved their combined research and found a spare radio which she made room for on the mantelpiece above the fire.

It was dark outside by the time their first attempt with Truth Potion base neared completion. Contessa fiddled with the radio, trying to find a signal for the nightly broadcast of Potterwatch whilst Severus stirred the potion, which had become increasingly thick and tar-like. Contessa gave up on the radio with a sigh and ambled over to the cauldron, taking a peek inside.

"Ah," she said, wrinkling her nose at the black glue setting in the bottom of the cauldron. "Not a particularly auspicious start to the proceedings."

"I seem to remember telling you we shouldn't add Flobberworm mucus at the same time as the Jobberknoll feathers," Severus responded dryly.

"You said no such thing!" Contessa replied with a hint of humour. She pulled out the ladle and watched the glutinous mess falling in sticky lumps back into the cauldron. "I don't think we'll bother testing it. Come and sit down – it's time we had a break."

Severus Vanished the day's work with a flick of his wand and ordered two cups of coffee as Contessa resumed fiddling with the dial on the radio.

As Severus sat down, the radio burst into life, and the familiar voice of a past Quidditch commentator crackled as the reception began to clear.

"I recognise that voice," Severus said, sneering at the memory.

"I don't know who it is, but his codename is River."

Severus tutted loudly. "It's Lee Jordan. Ex-Gryffindor commentator, he was a biased little sod. Not a very original codename, either."

Contessa shushed Severus as she sat down opposite him, and he raised his eyebrows, knowing that the Order of the Phoenix's broadcast was unlikely to tell him anything he didn't already know.

Recent news of Dirk Cresswell going on the run seemed to upset Contessa, and she explained that the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office had been her fiancé's boss and had attempted to hide his Muggle-born status from the Dark Lord's regime.

After a Muggle-focused report delivered in the deep, booming tones of Kingsley Shacklebolt, Contessa leapt slightly in her seat as the 'Pals of Potter' contributor was introduced to the airwaves.

Severus recognised the werewolf's intonation immediately. Suddenly the cup of coffee in his lap seemed much less appealing.

"It's Remus!" Contessa whispered, her eyes shining.

"I know." Severus mouthed the words, attempting to hide his reaction.

It didn't seem to work; Contessa cast him a reproachful look. "What've you got against him?" she said, shaking her head.

Severus took a long time to word his reply, pretending to listen to the news of Luna Lovegood's extended kidnapping. Eventually Contessa nudged him with her foot, and he peered back at her, wondering what she would want to hear; if he didn't break this particular eggshell, the witch might indeed make a boat thereof.

"He and I didn't like each other much at school. I always suspected he was a werewolf, not that it ever got me anywhere... Everyone else thought he was positively angelic."

Contessa's reply caught Severus unawares.

"You were in the same year at Hogwarts?"

He watched her, measuring her unexpected response carefully. "Yes. You didn't know?"

"No," she said, looking away from him. "I mean, I was a first year when Remus was made Prefect. I didn't mix much with the older students, but I always remember Remus because lots of the Ravenclaw girls had a crush on him."

Severus's stomach clenched as he watched a reminiscent smile curve its way around Contessa's mouth.

"I hadn't realised you and I attended Hogwarts together for three years," she said contemplatively.

"You don't remember me?" Severus asked, trying to forestall the bitterness spreading in his gut.

"Not really. I mean, I'd heard of you, but I couldn't place you, even when you became Potions master," Contessa recollected. "Anyway, do you remember me?"

"No," he conceded, staring into his cup.

"You were very young to become Potions master, then."

Severus took another sip of his coffee. "Twenty-one."

"You looked older than twenty-one when you started teaching."

"Thanks," he replied sarcastically.

They listened to the remainder of the feature in silence. When the programme had finished, Severus placed his empty cup on the floor.

"I'm sure you're aware things will change when the students arrive back tomorrow – Miss Lovegood's abduction is likely to act as a catalyst for Dumbledore's Army." Severus suddenly realised he didn't want the day to end. He looked back at Contessa's face and saw compassion and understanding in her eyes.

"What are you going to do?" she asked gently.

Severus hung his head apprehensively.

"I really don't know."

---

Frozen in Time

As had been expected, the students of Hogwarts reacted angrily towards the abduction of Luna Lovegood.

During the first few weeks of term Dumbledore's Army stepped up its activities, causing chaos at every opportunity. And if they were able to get away with it, some of the professors turned a blind eye to their antics. With only the Carrows doling out severe punishments, the trouble-makers ran amok with sabotage and graffiti.

The Carrows had responded by establishing a Dark Arts Academy, but so far only the children of Death Eaters had become members, with the notable exception of Robert Selwyn.

Contessa continued to coach the third-year boy in potion-making and was juggling tutorials with an increasing number of detentions for Horace Slughorn. Whilst Robert was still being bullied – his father was one of the Death Eaters involved in the kidnapping of Luna – it seemed the Slytherins had started to lose interest, so life had become slightly easier for him.

Potions experimentation had fast become the pursuit to which Contessa and Severus most looked forward, and the new laboratory had thus far produced three potions which they had tested in the privacy of the Headmaster's quarters.

Contessa had fallen soundly asleep within moments of swallowing the first potion, and when the antidote proved ineffective, Severus had to carry her through the Floo Network to her quarters and put her to bed. She had been startled to find him sleeping on her sofa when she awoke the following morning.

As they had decided to take turns testing the potions, Severus had tried the second batch, only to find it completely ineffective when the Imperius Curse was cast; Contessa's spell found its way past the potion and Severus deflected it thereafter. Apart from a few abdominal cramps, which had been reversed with the antidote, Severus had not suffered any ill-effects.

The third trial yielded more spectacular results – Contessa had placed one too many Billywig stings into the potion and spent a large portion of the evening giggling uncontrollably whilst levitated in Severus's living room. It seemed to Contessa that Severus had taken an inexcusably long time to administer the antidote, allowing for the fact that she had been hard to reach, circling the crystal chandelier and banging her head against the ceiling. Eventually Severus had performed a miraculous feat of levitation, hovering before her without aid of a broomstick. It was almost as though the Headmaster could fly.

On Friday the thirtieth of January, Contessa arrived in Severus's quarters, flushed with success, after she had finished preparing the fourth potion ahead of schedule.

Severus was lying on the sofa with one arm curled around his head.

"What's up?" Contessa asked as she placed two flagons of potion on the coffee table and took a seat opposite him.

Severus stared into space, as if she wasn't there, until finally giving in to a sigh and slowly rising to a sitting position. Contessa watched his fine-looking hands as he ran his fingers through his scruffy hair. His lank, black locks disobeyed his command and quickly fell back into his eyes. He barely seemed to notice.

Contessa was aware that Severus hadn't bothered to change his clothes; he still wore his boots, black trousers and white high-collared shirt. A black necktie hung unfastened around his collar, and the creased, unbuttoned shirt revealed his Tiger's Eye ring dangling on its chain. Contessa wondered how long Severus had lain there, and she deduced he hadn't remembered she was coming for supper.

She didn't expect an answer to her initial greeting and waited patiently until his dark eyes met hers.

"Have I arrived at a bad time?" she asked.

The crooked, yellowing teeth of Severus's bottom jaw became visible for a moment. He cleared his throat. "Today is no different to any other day," he said gruffly, staring at the floor as he clasped his hands and rubbed his thumbs together.

It occurred to Contessa that, to Severus, today seemed very different to a normal day, but she didn't know why this would be the case. And she knew better than to push for an explanation.

"I've brought the new potion," she said instead.

"So I see."

"We could leave it for another night, though, if you prefer."

There was a short pause as Severus shifted in his seat and gazed pensively into the fire. Then, in one swift movement, he grabbed the flagon of experimental potion from the table and rose to his feet, striding purposefully to stand next to the fireplace.

He downed the contents of the bottle in one gulp and immediately took a sharp intake of breath. The empty flagon slipped from his grasp, and he simultaneously dropped to his knees. Hunched over on the rug by the hearth, Severus cradled his stomach, taking ragged, pained breaths.

Within moments Contessa was kneeling directly in front of him. It seemed as though her heart had stopped beating as she held out the potion's antidote.

Up close, she saw Severus's face had drained of colour, and he was shaking, as if shivering from the cold. With his gaze fixed upon the floor, Contessa couldn't raise his attention to the potion in her hands.

"Severus, take the antidote," she said, lifting the small green bottle into his line of vision.

Unexpectedly, Severus reached out and seized the flagon and proceeded to hurl it into the fire. Glass shattered against the chimney breast, and the potion evaporated instantly into the Floo.

Severus knelt, trembling, as Contessa attempted to collect her thoughts. Whatever the potion was doing to him, he was refusing intervention, and she suspected a bezoar stone would meet the same fate as the antidote.

And yet he was so obviously in distress. She knew she needed to try and calm him down.

"You're really shaking aren't you?" Contessa said gently, hoping the sound of her voice would draw his awareness into the room.

Severus continued to shake, but he nodded jerkily before resuming his stare at the floor.

His hand moved to clutch his chest, and his breathing became fast and shallow. Black curtains of hair fell around his face like blinkers, freezing him in time. Contessa sensed him panicking, overwhelmed by his senses.

Severus was trying, yet unable, to communicate with her. She remained calm and motionless on the rug in front of him.

"I'm here, Severus," she said, her voice soft and steady.

He didn't respond.

"Can you see me?" she asked.

Severus's head moved fractionally upwards. He nodded once.

"Clearly?" Contessa asked.

This time he raised his head further.

"Yes," he said. His voice sounded ragged and throaty.

Severus's eyes focused on the Tiger's Eye ring around Contessa's neck. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then his breathing calmed a little, and he continued to stare at Contessa's ring hanging on her necklace.

"Tell me what you can see," she pressed quietly.

"Your ring."

"What does it look like?"

"Silver. Golden brown stone. It... sparkles." His hand moved to the ring around his own neck. He inserted the tip of his index finger and moved the ring back and forth along the chain.

"How's your shaking, now that you can see me?"

"Better," Severus replied.

Contessa let out a breath, and her Tiger's Eye ring tingled in response to Severus's ministrations. Suddenly, she was overcome with a hunch.

"Do you want me to put my ring on?" she asked softly.

Her question hung in the air for a long moment, and Contessa wondered if Severus would answer.

Eventually, he raised his head. Dark eyes bored into hers as he yanked the ring from the chain around his neck. The silver necklace fell to the floor like a curling, coiled snake, and Severus lifted his other hand, ramming the ring onto his little finger.

He looked down at the floor again.

"I'm going to put the ring on my finger too, if that's OK?" she asked, feeling sure this was what he wanted.

He didn't respond.

Contessa mentally prepared herself as she unclasped her necklace, Occluding her thoughts and feelings so she could experience Severus's without confusion. She slipped the ring onto her finger and felt a ripple of Severus's fear and anxiety, then shuffled forward until she was close enough to place her hand on his knee.

Severus grasped Contessa's hand firmly and the Tiger's Eye rings touched, sending Contessa tumbling through space and time into a black, infinite void.

After a few long seconds of nauseating flashes of light and snatches of voices, Contessa felt her feet find solid ground.

She opened her eyes and found herself standing inside Severus's memory.

The scene was crystal clear, as if the past event was happening again now, in this very moment. She noticed her body had a visual form but, like in a Pensieve, nobody in the memory could see her. With the possible exception of Severus Snape.

The young Potions master met Contessa's eyes fleetingly before looking away, staring down the lengths of the House tables in the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

Contessa gasped as she turned around to see a plethora of pumpkins hovering mid-air. It was the Halloween feast, and at the opposite end of the hall she saw her younger self, aged seventeen, celebrating with the other seventh-year Ravenclaws.

A sharp scrape of wood dragged on the stone floor behind her. The young Professor Snape had risen abruptly from his seat, clutching his left forearm as though in pain. He made brief, urgent eye contact with Professor Dumbledore and left for the sanctuary of the chambers at the rear of the Great Hall.

Contessa followed him, and Dumbledore joined him moments later.

"What is it, Severus?" the Headmaster asked.

Wordlessly, Severus unbuttoned his shirt-sleeve and rolled back the cuff. The Dark Mark burned black into his arm, and the surrounding skin appeared red and swollen.

"There's no destination to the Dark Lord's call," Severus said, disconcerted. "I don't know why he summoned me or where he wishes to meet."

Dumbledore peered through his half-moon spectacles at Severus's Dark Mark, studying it closely. "I've never seen the mark so angry before. It troubles me. What do you think it means?"

"I don't know," Severus said impatiently. "Your orders, Dumbledore?"

The Headmaster contemplated his reply carefully. "Go to our friend Lucius Malfoy and find out what's happening. Report back to me when you have news."

Then the memory of Dumbledore dissolved as the room swirled around Contessa, and she lost sight of Severus for a moment. When the sands of time reformed, she found herself following Severus as he ran up the moving, spiral stone staircase to the Headmaster's office.

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted him grimly as he burst through the door.

"Headmaster," Severus replied brusquely as he strode across the circular office. "There's no word from the Dark Lord. He appears to have vanished. The Death Eaters are restless and fearful; no one knows what to do next."

"I suggest you take a seat," said Dumbledore as he Summoned a chair.

Severus remained upright, ignoring the chair placed behind him. "Why?"

Dumbledore cringed briefly before looking away, addressing the Headteacher portraits instead of his Potions master.

"It appears Voldemort has fallen," he said, with his back towards Severus.

Contessa moved closer to Severus and touched his arm, reminding him she was still there.

"How?" Severus asked. "And when?"

"He fell when his own Killing Curse rebounded upon him, in the home of James and Lily Potter."

Severus's mouth gaped open in horror. "Is she alright?" he asked, his voice little more than a whisper.

Dumbledore turned to face him. "No, Severus. I'm sorry to say that she and James were murdered by Lord Voldemort."

Severus's knees gave out, and Contessa saw him slump backwards into the chair, ebony eyes beseeching Dumbledore to tell him it wasn't true. What little colour he had in his face drained away, and the long breath he had been holding escaped in an audible cry of anguish.

Contessa dropped to her knees at the side of the chair and twisted her hand around Severus's icy cold fingers. Glistening beads of tears formed in his eyes, blurring his vision as they fell onto his lap. His breath came in sharp, resonating bursts as gasps of agony fought their way out of his lungs. Hot, salty tears leaked onto Contessa's hands as she tried to console him, and she became aware that Severus could see her there, alongside him.

"I thought... you were going... to keep her... safe,"* he panted, gasping for air.

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person,"* Dumbledore said. "Rather like you, Severus."*

Contessa felt the dagger twisting in Severus's gut. He flinched beside her. She tightened her hand resolutely around his.

"Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"* Dumbledore continued.

Contessa noticed Severus's muscles tensing briefly. She nestled down on the floor and soothingly stroked the back of his hand, reassuring him of her presence.

"Her boy survives,"* Dumbledore said.

Severus's head jerked briefly.

"Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and colour of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?"*

Contessa's confusion was drowned out by the sensation of Severus's tension building like a coiled spring.

"DON'T!"* he bellowed. "Gone... Dead..."* His voice trailed off hopelessly.

As fog cleared from Contessa's vision, it became clear that the depth of Severus's loss was much more than guilt. Her breath caught in her throat, and her heart ached, halted and swollen inside her chest.

And still Dumbledore persisted.

"Is this remorse, Severus?"*

But Severus didn't seem to hear. He was imploding.

"I wish... I wish I were dead..."*

Contessa felt Severus's strength bleeding away, abandoning him to the depths of despair.

"And what use would that be to anyone?"* Dumbledore said.

Contessa winced at the Headmaster's coldness.

"If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."*

Comprehension blossomed like a thorny rose in Contessa's chest, in synchrony with the glimmer of hope sparking from the darkest depths of Severus's heart.

Now she understood.

Severus's undertaking to protect Harry Potter had come to pass because of his love for the boy's mother. A love which seemed unrequited. Dumbledore had taken advantage of Severus's loss and turned his grief into something else – a reason for carrying on.

Whilst Contessa saw why Dumbledore had given him a raison d'être, she couldn't help but feel the constriction of Severus's pledge like a noose around her neck. She quailed, suffocated, wanting to cry out and make the whole thing stop. This decision, this moment, had halted Severus and prevented him from healing, trapping him in bitter desolation for the rest of his life.

She moved in front of Severus's chair, blocking his view of Dumbledore, and she took his head tenderly in her hands.

Through his shocked and disbelieving eyes he told her enough.

Contessa held Severus in her arms, cradling his head as she closed her eyes and ran her fingertips through his long black hair.

They stepped into the blackness of the void together.

When Contessa opened her eyes again she found herself kneeling in Severus's quarters in front of the fireplace. Her hand continued to stroke his hair as his head rested heavy against her shoulder. Feeling his silent tears dampening her neck, she wrapped her other arm around him, holding him close.

Contessa lost all sense of time as she listened to the sound of Severus's laboured breathing and felt the warmth of his chest rising and falling in her embrace.

In the fading firelight she began to comprehend the profundity of Severus's love for Lily Evans. He had loved her all his life, loved her still, and would never love another.

Now they were back in the reality of the present day, the significance of the day's date finally dawned upon her.

Lily Potter, born 30 January 1960

Died 31 October 1981

---

Cloak of Numbness

Severus's damaged soul tried to knit itself back together as he rested his head on Contessa's shoulder. The agonising memory of Lily's death began to fade as his conscious mind brought him back into the room, and slowly the pain of loss ebbed away into something more tolerable. Something more familiar.

The rush of adrenaline subsided to a creeping nausea, permeating his gut. He wanted to shroud himself in his customary cloak of numbness, make the torment of anguish disappear. But the potion had placed that cloak too far from reach. If only he hadn't panicked and thrown the antidote into the fire, he could rid himself of these feelings now, Occlude them away, as he did so many other things.

Contessa helped him onto his feet and guided him back to the cushioned sofa. They sat down facing each other, next to the fire. The room's illumination was low as the embers of the fire smouldered in the hearth, issuing lazy crackles as the fire began to die.

The hollow pit in Severus's stomach started to burn as he brushed the grainy tracks of tears from his face. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Contessa sitting leaning forward, watching him closely. He wondered how long it would take for the potion's effects to wear off so he could resume his pitiful existence: a long and lonely search for redemption.

"You should Imperio me before the potion wanes," he told Contessa.

Contessa took a long moment to reply.

"No, I don't think so," she said quietly.

Severus lifted his head, perplexed. Contessa's compassionate gaze caused the burning, cavernous emptiness of his stomach to travel a circular route around his abdomen. Severus was aware that the words coming from his mouth were completely disconnected from the feelings snaking their way around his body.

"We should not waste the opportunity," he said, but he did not truly feel the cool rationality which his tone attempted to convey. Dimly, he wondered for whose sake he was being rational.

Contessa shook her head minutely but maintained eye contact. Her gaze met him in a place which seemed both alien and mysteriously comforting.

"I think a potion which forces someone to relive traumatic memories is best consigned to the dustbin," she replied. "I wouldn't want to use it, even if it did repel the curse. We don't need a bottled Dementor."

There was a note of sadness and regret in her voice which filled Severus with unexpected warmth. He knew that such a potion would probably have a market for torture and punishment, and he lamented its abandonment. But as they were researching neither of these uses, he remained silent.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Contessa said softly.

Severus watched her eyes glistening on the edge of tears and fought back his own, wondering why she was almost crying. Then reality hit him. They were still wearing the rings. He realised now that Contessa had Occluded herself and was experiencing his thoughts and feelings by return.

He looked down at his Tiger's Eye ring, contemplating whether or not to remove it. Part of him wanted to reclaim his privacy but another part couldn't bear to be alone with the emotions threatening to engulf him.

It seemed Contessa was strong enough to stay alongside him, and with the ring firmly ensconced on his little finger, the moment became one of precious unreality.

In his mind's eye, Severus saw himself standing at the edge of a frozen pool, similar to the one in which he had placed Gryffindor's sword. He was drawn to look into its icy surface, even though he was scared to see what the reflection held. The thought of the cold water beneath the frosty mirror made his toes curl. He really didn't want to fall into the freezing water and become trapped, unable to escape.

His eyes searched Contessa's again, seeking contact and reassurance.

He heard her thought in his mind. I'm a good swimmer.

The back of Severus's throat felt hard and dry as he swallowed and looked away.

Silence lingered, the only sounds coming from the glowing embers in the fire shifting in the grate. As the radiant light dipped again, Severus felt secure in Contessa's presence.

Out loud, she said gently, "You lost the woman you loved."

"Yes," he murmured. Then, after a moment's deliberation, he added, the only woman I ever loved.

Contessa's posture changed slightly but she didn't look away. "And you love her still..."

"Now, more than ever," Severus vocalised his thoughts, without realising he had spoken.

"Your love grows stronger with each passing year," Contessa said softly.

Severus nodded.

The burning in his abdomen was spreading into his chest, searing persistently at his heart. "I'll never love anyone like I loved Lily." Her name on his tongue expelled one of the fiery serpents inside him.

"It seems no one can replace her in your heart."

"She's all I have."

They sat quietly whilst Severus explored the room in his heart occupied solely by Lily. Happy moments with his childhood friend mingled with memories of their deepening bond as they progressed through their years at Hogwarts together. She was the only person who he'd felt loved by, and the only one who had accepted him for whom and what he was. Severus squeezed every last drop of joy out of the warm, rapturous glow of the past, basking in his devotion to the one woman who meant everything in his world.

"Her friendship gave you something you'd never experienced before," Contessa reflected.

He knew she had seen, and he knew she had understood.

"I loved her, accepted her, completely, for all the things she was, even though she was Muggle-born. I thought she accepted me too..." Severus felt a vice closing around his ribcage as the reflection on the pool's surface began to change. "At least she did... until..."

His eyebrows pinched together as the clamp around his chest held its position – an established place – like a cast-iron girdle around his heart. He forced a deep, shuddering breath into his lungs.

"Her acceptance of you changed?" Contessa asked softly.

Severus's abdominal muscles cramped as Contessa prodded the pool's frozen surface. He had previously avoided agitating the icy mirror, but her gentle enquiry and willingness to accompany him seemed to make it easier to contemplate breaking through the surface. With the heel of his boot, he smashed down hard into the layer of ice.

He leaned forward to look into the dark waters beneath.

"She wanted me to be different, to give up the Dark Arts, to be more like them," he said bitterly, remembering the House of Gryffindor's oh-so-noble peers. "But I couldn't make a choice like that at the drop of a hat – not quickly enough for her, anyway – and then she... withdrew. My apology meant nothing to her, and she closed the door on me."

"You lost her."

"When I lost her, I lost everything."

"When she withdrew her friendship, you felt as though you'd lost everything."

"I did... I do."

"And you felt...?"

"Hollow. Empty. Alone." Severus knew these feelings well; they rose to the surface whenever his defences were brittle. And in recurrent nightmares. "I've felt that way for as long as I can remember." Then, unexpectedly, the sensation of a clenched fist formed deep inside his abdomen. "There's something else now, though," he said, surprised by the new emotion gradually uncoiling in his stomach.

"Can you describe it?"

"It's like a heavy, solid fist opening itself deep inside my guts." He stopped, not knowing how to articulate what was happening.

"Does it make a sound?"

He listened closely. "Yes," he said. The roar of emotion ascended his throat, where it halted, afraid. This was a different kind of anger to the one he lived with every day; it wasn't directed at himself, and its vibrations seemed to reverberate through his entire body.

"You're feeling angry," Contessa said, grounding him.

"I can't allow myself to feel angry with Lily," he said, and the feeling strangled him, like icy fingers closing around his windpipe.

"What does feeling angry mean to you?"

"It hurts and it stings," he answered, grimacing. "How can I feel that way about the best thing that ever happened to me?"

Contessa's blue-grey eyes were kind and caring. "You remember her with love, so it seems your anger is misplaced."

Severus tried to gulp down a choke, feeling as though his body was tearing itself in two, starting at his throat.

"Where does your anger go?" she asked him.

"It stays inside."

"What does it do?"

Warm, salty water trickled down his cheeks, and his chest felt open and vulnerable. "It tears me apart."

Adrift inside the gaping chasm of his heart, Severus almost lost himself in the frozen waters of the pool. Then he heard Contessa's voice, strong and resilient, like a life-raft amidst the chunks of ice floating on the water's surface.

"Your anger hurts you when it stays inside."

Severus realised the extent of the harm caused by the lump of ice lodged in his throat, ripping his soul apart as it cut through his body.

"What does your anger want?" Contessa asked.

The feeling, trapped in his throat, started to throb. It wants release.

"Can you let it out?" she asked gently.

Severus's breath froze in his chest, consumed by horror and panic. "It's too dangerous."

Contessa's soft and steady presence lifted him from the icy pit. "It feels dangerous to release your anger," she said.

"I'm afraid I'll hurt you," he whispered, searching her eyes, wanting to protect her, wanting to see if she could...

Contessa smiled a small, sad glimmer of encouragement. "I trust you."

Her words fortified him from deep within.

Hot snakes slithered down his right arm, hissing and spitting as they travelled inexorably to his hand. He needed something to throw, something to smash. He needed to make something disappear in a satisfying burst of energy and movement.

The lump in his throat felt like a balloon being pumped full of air, crushing into his windpipe. He knew if he didn't act soon, he would deprive his body of the oxygen he needed to live. His eyes found the empty, discarded potion bottle dropped on the living room rug.

"I'm here, Severus. Where does your anger want to go?"

Contessa's voice acted like a catapult, thrusting him forward.

Suddenly he was standing and had scooped up the amber-coloured flagon from the floor. He ran his fingers along the cool, ribbed edges of the glass, tightly gripping the tiny vessel in his hand. He flexed the muscles of his arm as the serpents passed through, sliding free from their prison.

With a gurgling rumble deep inside his throat, Severus swung his arm back, and with the force of snakes springing from his palm, he flung the potion bottle across the room.

Glass shattered, hitting the breast of the chimney and sending shards into the grate. Vapours from the remaining drops of potion spiralled upwards in a white snake-like wisp, and the serpents were sibilant in approval.

The last embers of the dying fire fizzled out, and the Replenishment Charm ignited. Newly chopped wood settled in the grate, spitting and crackling as it caught fire.

Severus noticed the strangled feeling in his throat had gone, and the burning in his arm had now faded to a warm, fluid heat. He stood for a while, watching the logs on the fire kindle, inhaling the aroma of burning pinewood.

Eventually he knelt down and reached for the poker by the side of the fireplace. As he stoked the fire and felt its warmth on his face and hands, Contessa joined him, mirroring his posture in front of the fire.

"Your anger found a way out," she said, her voice quietly comforting. "And you didn't hurt me."

Severus turned to look at her concerned, beautiful face, lit up by the flickering iridescence of the fire.

"How do you feel now?" she asked.

As his anger faded, his body felt more alive than ever before.

"The numbness has gone," he said simply.

With a pang of sorrow, he felt the effects of the potion beginning to wane. He wondered if he could now reach for his cloak, to numb the buried emotions he had uncovered in its absence.

He had feared these feelings, denied and suppressed them.

Severus felt Contessa's hand slip into his grasp as the pain of grief became visible beneath the melted, smashed surface of the pool. He knew they could look into its depths together, to know and name the darkness held within.

He left the numbing cloak behind at the water's edge.

Severus had travelled too far to turn back now.

---

Author's Note:

Where I have quoted dialogue from the original Harry Potter books, I have marked it with an asterisk.