Title: Victims of Circumstance
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Rated: R
Pairing: W/Severus Snape
Genre: BtVS/HP Crossover
Spoilers: Takes place after "Goblet of Fire" in HP ‘verse and after BtVS Season 5. Tara and Willow were just friends. Xander and Anya are still together. Buffy died and was brought back.
Summary: A chance encounter over the summer brings about some unexpected complications in the lives of two very special people.
Author's Note: I could -not- get this idea out of my head and so it has now become my tenth work in progress. I promise I won't be starting any more new ones until I finish at least one of them.
Feedback: Please?

~*~Prologue~*~

Sunnydale. The Hellmouth. Seat of all that is evil and wrong in the world.

Or was it?

Severus Snape looked out of the window of the small, shabby hotel he had taken up residence in for his stay in the town, glaring at everything and nothing in particular. What had been going through Dumbledore’s mind when he sent him to this place? Far from Hogwarts or even his own summer home. This wasn’t how he had wanted to spend his summer break. Not in the slightest.

So how had he ended up here, halfway around the world from the few things he held dear to him?

Oh yes. He was making sure that the Dark Lord’s reach hadn’t made it this far; that the States were still pristine in their innocence of Voldemort.

And, so far, everything he had seen indicated that this, indeed, was the case. The one sleazy bar he had found that catered to wizards and witches had yielded nothing to make him think that these poor fools even knew about the war that was brewing across the sea, the one that would, if Dumbledore and others weren’t careful, one day make it to their own shores and shatter their little worlds.

He sighed, letting the thin curtains on the window swing closed as he stepped back, turning to face his room. There was a double bed, not quite as comfortable as the four-poster he had back at Hogwarts, and definitely a far cry from the luxury he enjoyed in his own home, but it was manageable. A Muggle device on the small desk seemed to be the manner in which he was expected to make his morning coffee, though he had settled for summoning whatever he needed instead of even attempting to try to figure out the machine. Much easier and definitely less frustrating for him that way.

He sat on the edge of the bed, wishing that his exile in this place was over. He wanted nothing more than to apparate back to Hogsmeade and return to the school, make his report and then retire to his own home for the remainder of the summer. A few more days of this and he would be good to go, he assumed. Surely Dumbledore didn’t expect him to wait around for the entire break in the vague hopes that he would hear something about Voldemort, when in reality it didn’t even appear that this side of the world was even aware enough of the Dark Lord to speak about him on a regular basis.

So what to do tonight? His lesson plans for the next term were done, being the same ones he had used for the last five years. There were no experiments that he could dare attempt within the confines of this tiny room. The same could be said of the potions he needed to stock up on for Poppy. As far as he was concerned, there was absolutely nothing for him to do in this hellish little space.

Which gave him only one option.

Leave the room.

The thought was intriguing. Perhaps he could go back to the wizard bar and order yet another round of drinks while trying to get information; though he was sure now that there was no ‘information’ for him to get. This was, undoubtedly, one of his most unsuccessful missions ever.

No, the wizard bar was definitely out of the question.

But there *was* that little place right up the street. Something called ‘The Bronze’. It appeared to be somewhere to relax and unwind, though a tad ‘young’ for his tastes.

‘You’re not an old man, yet, Severus.’ He reminded himself acerbically. That settled it. He was going to this place. This ‘Bronze’. And he would have a drink. Or two. And mix among the Muggles and just live for once.

He glanced in the mirror by the door on his way out, appreciating for the first time the fact that being away from Hogwarts meant that he could do away with certain things. Like perpetually black robes, oily hair and yellowed teeth. All part of the image he had cultivated over the years, the slimy git that no one except the slimiest of students liked. There was no reason for that image here, far away from Hogwarts and everyone he knew. No reason at all to keep up that appearance in a bar full of Muggle men and women who wouldn’t know magic if it flew right past their nose.

The shirt he was wearing was dark blue, almost the color of the night sky, and had little silvery buttons. His pants were the same black slacks that he normally wore underneath his school robes; though without those austere garments covering them they actually looked like something quite normal. He could be, he reasoned, any other Muggle man out on the town, looking for a few drinks and maybe some conversation.

He smirked, an expression that was as much ‘him’ as it was the character he played while at school, and pocketed his room key, locking the door behind him.

Maybe tonight would be interesting, after all.

~*~

The Bronze was packed for a Thursday night, Willow decided, rolling her eyes as Xander got turned down by yet another pretty girl. This one had been far out of his league, she knew, just like every woman he had tried to approach since breaking up with Anya. It was as though he were trying to make up for all those years that he had been too nervous or shy during high school. The college years were supposed to change you, after all, and even though he wasn’t in school, Xander was still determined to change.

"She was too leggy anyway, Xan." Willow comforted him, patting his hand in reassurance as he sat down next to her. He took a sip of his drink, a beer of some sort, before answering.

"Yeah, but she would’ve been good for dancing with, at least."

Willow shook her head, smirking. "Get Buffy to dance with you."

Xander shook his head. "Nah. She’s having too much fun with Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum over there."

The red head followed the direction he was pointing in with her eyes, chuckling softly at the sight that greeted her. Sure enough, Buffy had found herself a pair of identical twins and was now shamelessly flirting with both of them. She shook her head in silent amazement.

Next to her, she heard Xander whistle. Apparently another girl had caught his eye because he was suddenly up and absent from his chair.

Again.

She sighed.

Why couldn’t she be more like Buffy and Xander? Seeking out casual relationships just to pass the time? Not forming emotional bonds? Just living for the moment? Why did she have to over analyze each and every moment of her life?

Well – why couldn’t she just stop doing that?

The thought hit her like a slap in the face. There was, after all, no *good* reason to deny herself the pleasure of someone else’s company. She had been a good girl for all of her life and where had *that* gotten her? No where. Oz had left and Xander had never been interested really to begin with. She was an adult and capable of making her own decisions, or mistakes, as the case may be.

"Carpe diem." She muttered, throwing back the last of her drink and standing up. The bar was crowded but she managed to make it to the front and get a shot of tequila, just the perfect thing to take the edge off. Just what she needed to get the courage to actually ‘sieze the day’.

She’d be damned if she went home lonely tonight.

~*~

His hands were hot on her body. Touching, examining. Caressing. Playing.

It was fire and ice, though she wasn’t sure at times if she was the heat or the chill that flashed between them.

She arched up under his touch, her fingers seeking out his dark hair in the equal darkness of the room. The light wasn’t necessary; after all, she could remember what he looked like. They had made eye contact through the crowd of The Bronze and had talked for what seemed like forever before leaving together, seeking the solace of his hotel room, only a few blocks up the street.

Their mouths had met, scalding and chilling, equal parts heat and cold; and magic had been made between them.

He was just as needy as she was, and before she had known it they were in bed, exploring each other’s skin with their hands, tongues, mouths. His words, spoken with that whispery accent, so silky and smooth, had caressed her just as surely as his hands, enticing her body to new heights. She felt as though he were made for her by the time they consummated that which they had been feeling.

And, as the pleasure washed over her, coursing through her body as he peaked inside of her, she whispered the name he had given her, not knowing if it was the truth or an alias.

"Sev … "

~*~

In the morning he was gone. A note on the bedside table all that she had to remind her of the night that they had spent, making passionate love time and again, until they couldn’t keep their eyes open any longer.

~Dearest Angel,

Thank you for one of the most pleasurable nights that I have had in such a very long time. In my life I have little that I can hold to, little that I can grasp that can remind me of the lighter side of things, the hopes and joys and passions which others cling to so freely. I will cherish what we shared during my darkest times and remember that someone touched me with such sweet compassion. Take care in your journeys in life.

Until We Meet Again,

Sev~

~*~

She held that note the day she found out that she was pregnant, searching over the words for any hint as to who he had been, any clue about where she could find him or how to search for him.

But there weren’t any.

Even breaking into the hotel records and going back to who had checked in that night and the nights immediately before had given her no indication of who the father of her child was or how to let him know he was going to be a daddy. There was no one named ‘Sev’ or anything like it. Just as she had thought, it was an alias. Or else he hadn’t registered under his real name at all. Either way, it didn’t matter. In the end she had to face the realization that there was no way for her to find this man that she had spent a heated night with. There were no spells that she knew of to help her along this road. Nothing to help find the father of a child that had yet to be born.

She cried, letting Buffy hold her and then Xander, too. Giles would be back from his visit in England all too soon and they’d have to tell him as well. She knew he would be disappointed in her. She was disappointed in herself. Her one night of seizing the day had landed her in a most precarious position.

But she could do it.

"It’ll be okay, Wills." Buffy murmured, rubbing soothing circles on the red head’s back. She held her while she cried, comforted her while she sobbed in agonized grief. Xander held both of them while they grieved for the life Willow had sacrificed, each planning how to proceed with the future. And, in the end, they made the witch realize the very thing that they had been telling her all along.

Everything was going to be okay.

~*~Part One~*~

**Four Years Later**

Willow stared down at the letter in her hand and then up at the man that was sitting across from her, confusion marring her normally pretty features.

"I don’t understand, Giles."

The former librarian nodded.

"About what I expected seeing as how we never really discussed the world of wizardry." The look on his face said clearly that he regretted that, especially in light of what she had just received, by owl post, only a few short minutes before. He didn’t know what had surprised her more, the owl that delivered the letter or the letter itself. The letter certainly wasn’t much to look at from the outside, except for the seal that held the bit of parchment together. Red wax burned with a crest of sorts. Giles knew what the crest was immediately, though his red haired protégé wasn’t so informed. He had waited with anxiety as she had broken open the wax and read, her eyes scanning quickly over words that he knew were written in the scrawling black calligraphic handwriting he himself had seen so often.

After all, he had been the one to mention her to Albus. Shouldn’t he also have mentioned Albus, and all of *that* world to her, in return?

It was too late now.

"The world of wizardry?" Willow repeated, her confusion multiplying exponentially with each passing moment. "Care to explain Giles?"

He nodded, taking off his glasses and polishing them on the edge of his shirt.

"You’d be surprised to find that the witches and wizards of this world have their own subculture, like many other groups. They have their own businesses, laws, rules and regulations, and schools."

"Like the one that sent this letter?" She asked, holding up the parchment.

"Yes, like Hogwarts. It is a seven year school, one of a few in Europe, where wizards and witches attend class and learn to control their powers."

Willow shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs that had been strung between her own frazzled nerves.

"Attend class?" Her eyes flew to the letter. "They want me to teach a class, Giles! That’s what the letter says. Well, they want me to assist anyway. And take over when the other Professor retires next year."

He nodded.

"I thought as much. I had mentioned to Albus how adept you were at Charms. It is no big surprise to me that he has sought you out for the position."

"Yes, but." Willow was speechless. She looked from him to the letter and then back to him. This was almost too much to think about. There was a world where she would have fit in, all along. A world of wizards and witches. One where she wouldn’t have had to hide her powers or her desire to learn. It was both heartbreaking and exciting at the same time.

And yet, she couldn’t help but feel like Giles had betrayed her by keeping it all from her.

"Why --?"

"Didn’t I tell you?" He finished the unspoken question with a sigh. "You were nearly out of school by the time you started to exhibit any great powers, Willow. And the wizarding world would have had no place for you. Would you really have wanted to go back to school, for seven more years, at the point where you were almost through?"

"So why do they have a place for me now?"

It was a fair question, Giles conceded.

"Because you are an adult, and have proven yourself time and again in the areas of magic that matter the most. You will, of course, need to learn their ways of doing things. Wandless witches are something of an abnormality in their culture. But that can all be remedied with some study on your part. Albus seemed very interested in having you on his staff –"

It was left unspoken that this could be the godsend that she had been looking for. A job. A job that could last for a long time. Not these fly by night programming jobs that were becoming harder and harder for her to get. Her trust money was almost gone. She needed a source of steady income, if not for herself for –

"Wait!" She cried, shaking her head in disappointment. "I can’t, Giles. There’s no way they’re going to want me there when he finds out I’m a single mom."

Giles could have cried at the sadness in her voice. He knew that she loved her child more than anything and would go to any lengths to provide the best life for the almost four year old. But there were many opportunities that she had missed out on because of her status as a single, struggling mother. She was still trying to finish up with a college degree, one class at a time, in between taking care of the child and working. And it seemed like things were getting further and further out of her reach each and every day, no matter what she did to stop them.

But he was determined that this wouldn’t be one of those disappointments she had to deal with.

"Albus is aware that you are a single mother, Willow." He smiled gently at her. "And he, of course, knows that where you go so does your child. Mention it to him when you respond and you will see."

Willow’s heart leapt into her throat. She swallowed around the uncomfortable lump of something that felt vaguely like hope and looked into the eyes of her mentor with tears showing in her own crystalline green orbs. There were a million questions going through her mind at that moment. About Hogwarts, the world of the wizards, and a host of other things. But the most important one she could think of at that moment had more to do with reassurance than with a need for knowledge.

"Is this real, Giles?"

~*~

**Miss Rosenberg,

Please rest assured that we have taken your family status into account and have already made plans regarding the layout of a suite of rooms for both yourself and your child should you choose to accept our offer. We will, of course, make sure that she is educated until such time as she, perhaps, is ready to enter Hogwarts for herself. Everything will be taken care of, you needn’t worry.

Shall we get those rooms ready?

Please owl back with your response at your earliest convenience.

                        Sincerely,

                        Albus Dumbledore

                        Headmaster

**

The letter dropped from Willow’s fingers to the ground, a smile growing across her face. She had been so worried when she had sent the owl back with her last concern. So scared that Giles had been wrong and the Headmaster had no intentions of allowing her to bring Sera.

He had been right of course. Giles, that is. She was welcome to bring Sera. They would have their own little suite of rooms in the school. Her precious darling would be able to get an education and, if she grew up to be a witch, could attend school at the same place her mother taught.

Willow sat on the edge of her bed and cried tears of pure joy. This was the miracle she had needed. It was a blessing and she had Giles to thank for it; enough thanks to disregard the resentment she had felt when she found out that there was a world outside of Sunnydale, a world of magic and intrigue.

He was her savior.

She would, of course, need to brush up on her Charms. The books that she had learned from had been old at best, ancient at worst. And she had no doubt that there were more modern ones that she needed to learn and be prepared to teach. A million and one preparations went through her head. There was so much to be done. She needed to plan, to pack, to prepare.

Both herself and –

She turned her head, scowling kindly at the child that was busily playing with her makeup.

"Seraphina Anna Rosenberg!"

The little girl looked up, blinking her dark eyes at her mother. She dropped the lipstick tube she had been busily mixing with an already open bottle of liquid foundation, a guilty look crossing her pale features.

"You must be your father’s child more than mine." Willow muttered. "Always trying to mix things together. Maybe he was a chemist?" The question was more for herself than her daughter. Of course Sera didn’t know anything about the mysterious man that had done little more than act as donor for an unplanned, but no longer unwanted, pregnancy.

"Not a chemiss." Sera snickered knowingly, her mouth set in what could almost be called a smirk. Willow crossed her arms, waiting to see what would come out of her precocious child’s mouth *this* time.

But it seemed that Sera had said all she wanted to say. The child held out her hands, silently asking her mother to clean off the mess she had made.

And of course Willow complied. She summoned a washrag from the bathroom, wiping off the bits of caked makeup, the mushed lipstick, and the globs of foundation. Staring at the beautiful child before her, she was reminded once again of the man that had entered her life for only one night.

It was difficult not to remember ‘Sev’ when she looked at Sera. The child was dark haired, dark eyes, and looked nothing like her mother. She even seemed to have inherited that very distinctive nose that Willow remembered all too well from that night more than four years before.

"What wrong?"

Willow blinked, giving her daughter a smile.

"Just thinking, sweetie."

"’Bout?" Was the impertinent response from Sera.

"Mommy got offered a new job. We’re going to be moving." She said at last, hoping the child would understand.

"Good job?" Sera questioned.

"*Very* good job." Willow affirmed.

"Yay!" Sera cheered, jumping up and twirling in circles. This was her version of a happy dance and infinitely more precious than anything Willow had ever seen any child do before. Or maybe it was just that the child in question in this instance was *her* child. Did all mothers think that their child was the smartest, brightest, prettiest and most adorable in the entire world.

Definitely.

"Glad you’re happy, baby."

"Granpa Giles stays here, right?"

Willow nodded, relieved that the child asked the question without any hint of sadness. She had worried about that. Would Sera react in a strong negative way about leaving the only family she had ever known? But the dark haired young girl nodded to herself with her mother’s answer.

"Aunt Buffy and Unca Xander, too?"

"Yes, sweetie. They have to stay here. We’ll visit, though."

Sera nodded again, her eyes so much older than her physical age indicated. She gave her mother a childishly comforting smile.

"Yes, we can visit. Can we pack? Don’t forget Dusty."

The kitten, Dusty, poked his head out from under the bed at the mention of his name. He scampered over to Sera, waiting patiently for the loving adoration he knew would be lavished upon him at any moment. And so it was, the child patting him adoringly with gentle, sure strokes.

Willow stood, leaving Sera to play with the kitten, and picked up a piece of paper, eyeing the owl that was still waiting patiently for her response. She would need to get him some water and a bit of cracker before he set off again. Flying across the globe had to be tiring. She sat down, pen in hand, and began to compose her response.

~*~

Dumbledore looked around at his staff, smiling gently at each and every one of them. Classes would be resuming in less than two weeks and everyone had already arrived back, ready to begin the sometimes tedious task of getting prepared for a new term.

"I have some pleasant news for you this evening." The Headmaster began, meeting each teacher’s eyes in turn as he scanned around the room. Even Snape, lurking in the dark corner of the room, didn’t miss out on cheery look from the elderly wizard.

"We have found an assistant to oversee Professor Flitwick’s classes this year. She will be taking over at the conclusion of the year, when he heads off to his well deserved retirement."

The announcement was met with a smattering of applause, mostly because of the large grin on Flitwick’s face. It was no secret that he had stayed on for an extra two years at Dumbledore’s request while they searched for someone to take over his class. Now that the time was nearly at hand, it seemed that his enthusiasm would be reaching new heights.

"Well then." Dumbledore smiled, winking at Flitwick. "Professor Rosenberg will be arriving in the morning. I trust you will all make her welcome?" An extra hard smile sent Severus’ way earned the Headmaster a glare icy enough to freeze water. The other teaches nodded and murmured their acquiescence. "Her daughter will be coming with her, as well. As this will be a new, and perhaps anxious, experience for both of them, try to allow them to acclimate before showing them the true colors of Hogwarts."

This was directed mainly at Snape and then at McGonagall, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. It was clear that he didn’t want the newest Professor or her child to get caught up in the bitter rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. At least until she had settled in, that was.

As the meeting continued on, Dumbledore couldn’t help but feel as though there was something he was missing, something important that he just didn’t know for once; a nagging suspicion that the newest Professor was going to bring with her new troubles and joys. How the students and staff would gasp to know that he wasn’t all-knowing, with only a small amount of actual future-seeing being within his grasp. On the subject of Professor Rosenberg, however, everything was cloudy.

As though the Fates themselves weren’t quite sure what was going to happen next.

~*~Part Two~*~

"Why did I wait to do this until the morning I was leaving?" Willow asked herself, scrunching her eyes tight with the beginnings of a headache. She looked around her room, staring at the half open trunk with thinly veiled distaste. Packing was an onerous task, made ever more so by the fact that she had to do it to both her own things and Sera’s. And she didn’t have a lot of time to get it all done in.

"Best get to it." She muttered, rolling up her sleeves and diving into the closet. Clothes began to fly out, tossed none too gently by their Mistress, into the trunk sitting in the center of the room. She didn’t care if they landed in a pile, so long as they were actually in the chest and no longer in her closet. Some of her older or less appropriate items she piled outside the closet door, making a mental note to ask Buffy to send them to Goodwill or some other charity, someone that could make some use of them instead of just tossing them in the garbage.

After the closet came the dresser and then her desk, each and every one of her possessions fitting in the trunk with relative ease thanks to the charms she had already cast on the storage container. Within only a hour’s time she had everything in the trunk, ready to go, and was sitting on her bed, her face sad. This had been her home for so long and now she was leaving. Not just leaving the Summers’ home, but Sunnydale and the US as well. She was going halfway around the world to teach magic at a school of wizardry. It was thrilling.

And scary.

"Momma? Ready to go?"

Willow looked up, smiling at her daughter. The girl was already dressed in a beautiful hunter green dress that Willow felt set off the child’s delicate coloring perfectly. She wondered, just briefly, if Sev ever wore that color; and knew that if he did, he certainly looked handsome.

"Not yet, sweetie. We still have to pack your things." She glanced across the room, at the clock still on the nightstand, and gasped. Dumbledore would be taking down the wards around the school in less than ten minutes! She had taken too long! A sense of dread overcame her, numbing her inside and out as she made a quick mental list of everything she still needed to do. Pack Sera’s things. Get changed into her robes. Shrink the trunks.

"Uh uh." Sera shook her head, a teasing smile on her face. "Aunt Buffy already helped me."

That brought a sigh of relief from the red haired witch. She stood up, muttering a shrinking charm over her own trunk. The object dwindled down to only a few inches, small enough to fit in her robe pocket. Now she just needed to change clothes.

"Do mine! Do mine!" Sera hopped up and down, her dark eyes glittering with excitement.

"After I get dressed." Willow told Sera, motioning her out of the room. "Go sit with Aunt Buffy for a few minutes. We’re leaving soon."

Sera didn’t argue once, taking off down the hall even as Willow shut her bedroom door. Her robes were laid out on the bed, ready and waiting for her to don them. She was wearing black slacks and a button-up white shirt that would suit her well underneath the thin fabric of the dark blue robes she had chosen through a wonderful owl-order catalog Dumbledore had sent to her. She slid them over her clothing, enjoying the satiny insides as they slid over the little skin she had showing.

A few simple spells later and she was ready to go, hair pulled back in a clip with just a touch of makeup applied to her cheeks and eyes. She looked good, if she had to say so herself.

"Planning on meeting a fellow teacher and letting him play daddy to Sera, Rosenberg?" She asked her reflection. She snorted in amusement, shaking her head. At twenty-five years of age she had yet to find anyone that she even felt was remotely capable of being a father to her daughter. None of the men she had dated seemed to have that certain something she was looking for.

Or it could be that she just couldn’t get Sev out of her mind.

He still found his way into her dreams, even years after their one and only encounter. He was her private obsession, her dream lover. The one that she would have gladly given up almost anything just to know something about. But she didn’t know anything about him and she had given up on the daydream of running into him and starting a family a long, long time ago.

‘It’s better this way,’ she told herself. ‘I’m a witch. Sera will be a witch. This just makes things that much easier, not having to explain to him about magic and all that.’

She pocketed her miniature trunk and opened the bedroom door. Stopping by Sera’s room, the red head shrunk it down as well, gently depositing it in her other pocket. A few deep, calming breaths, and she made her way down stairs.

Buffy and Xander were sitting on the couch, Sera nestled between them. Willow smiled, capturing the moment in her memories for all of time.

"Ready to go, darling?"

"I’ve *been* ready, Momma." Sera rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, ‘Momma’." Buffy teased. "She’s been bouncing up and down, all excited like."

Xander nodded. He was smiling, but his eyes were sad. Willow took the initiative and drew him to his feet and into a tight hug.

"I’ll miss you, Xan."

"Miss you too, Wills."

"Yeah, Wills. Me too." Buffy sighed, making the hug three-way. They stayed that way for a minute or two, just holding each other, much to the amusement of Sera who thought that adults could be quite silly sometimes. The sound of someone clearing his throat drew the threesome out of their moment, and Willow smiled at Giles.

"Sera and I will miss you, too, Giles." She told him, embracing him just as affectionately as she had done her friends only a moment before. She pulled back, looking in his eyes with a smile and her voice was clogged with emotion when she opened her mouth again. "Thank you – for everything."

"My girl," Giles murmured. "You deserve this. Make the best of it."

Willow nodded, stepping back and blinking away the tears that were perched precariously in the corners of her eyes. She stepped over to the fireplace, lighting it with a wave of her hand. Soon she would be doing that with a wand, she thought with a twinge of apprehension. A small pouch on the mantle, hardly impressive looking by any stretch of the imagination, was something else Dumbledore had sent to her. He had called it Floo powder. It was to be her biggest blessing – making it so that she wouldn’t have to amuse Sera on first a trans-continental and then a trans-atlantic flight. All she had to do was toss some in the flames, step in and say "Hogwarts Staff Room" and she’d be there almost instantly.

A nice little piece of magical convenience, in her eyes. Definitely a money-saver as far as plane tickets were concerned.

"Okay." Willow breathed. "I’ll go through first. Sera – wait here with Granpa Giles until he sends you through, okay?"

Sera nodded with her with all the seriousness of a near four-year-old.

"Give me a couple minutes and then send her through, Giles."

The man that had been like a father to her for most of her adult life smiled kindly, patting her shoulder. He would cry when the day was over, she knew. But for now he was being strong, and that’s what she needed.

"Go on, then."

Willow nodded and took a pinch of the Floo powder. She tossed it into the flames, waiting until they took on a green tinge, before stepping in and calling out her destination.

~*~

"I really do not see why you need all of us here, Headmaster." Severus Snape sighed in frustration, leaning back in one of the many chairs the staff room had to offer. His dungeons were waiting for him, the potions he had been brewing all held in a state of stasis while he attended this blasted welcoming *thing*. "Professor Rosenberg will no doubt find it quite intimidating to be greeted by so many people."

Dumbledore smiled kindly, the knowing twinkle in his eyes brightening a notch.

"Or it may show her that she is welcome. Besides, Severus, there are not *that* many of us. Certainly not enough to be intimidating." He reminded his Potions Professor. The words were not harsh, but his tone brooked no room for argument. He turned back to the fireplace, watching apprehensively. She would be here any moment now. Around the room the other Professors were chatting amicably. No one except Severus seemed to have a problem with this. Everyone else had thought it was a grand idea to welcome the new teacher with a small welcoming party. There were drinks and snack cakes on the table, just waiting for the welcoming to begin.

All they needed now was their newest Professor.

~*~

Severus stood up, automatically, as the embers of the fireplace blazed, a young woman stepping out. She sneezed, momentarily hiding her face from his view. But when she looked up --

His heart caught in his throat, the sight of her face bringing back memories he had cherished for over four years. There she was, smiling nervously as the Headmaster greeted her. His angel. His Willow. The one woman in so many years that had given herself willingly to him for pleasure and comfort. That night stayed with him, played out in vivid detail in his dreams on a regular basis. The feel and smell of her skin, the way she tossed her hair or laughed. Those green eyes that he had felt could see into his very soul.

He hadn’t known she was a witch. Of course deep, meaningful conversations hadn’t been on the menu that night. They had both been seeking the pleasure of another body, and they had found it. Time and again. Over and over until the coming dawn forced him to flee as she drifted off to sleep. The memory of that night was one of the only things that kept him going when times got dark. He could always look back upon it and remember that, when he wasn’t acting the arrogant, cold bastard, he was someone to be cared for. Someone had cared and could care again.

*She* had cared.

And now she was here.

A flash of anger coursed through him for the briefest of moments, directed at his beloved Headmaster. He had to have known about that one night stand. Dumbledore was, of course, just meddling in his life again.

No, the rational part of his mind argued. There was no way Dumbledore could have known about that night. No way he could have tracked down that heavenly angel for him because not even *he* knew how to contact her ever again and he had given her no way to contact him, either. It had been better that way.

"I’d like to introduce you to the staff." Dumbledore was saying now, as Severus Snape tried to compose himself, tried to look for any way to get out of the room without earning himself a glare or reprimand from the Headmaster. There was no way, of course, so he stood stock still, waiting. Dumbledore began across the room from, giving Severus another brief minute of respite before –

"Sev?"

Her voice, exactly as he had remembered it, cut through the memories that were threatening to overwhelm him. He looked up into her eyes and felt himself melt, knees weak, just as he had so many years before in a Muggle bar in the heart of Southern California. He licked his lips.

"That is your name, right?" She whispered; and her face looked just as stunned as his own. He could almost hear her heart racing in tandem with his own and wished for all the world that they were alone, that he could speak with her. Anything other than being in the room with his colleagues and a Headmaster that looked, as if he couldn’t be more shocked. It was, in a way, relieving to know that Dumbledore didn’t know *everything*; though he would have preferred to find it out in some other way.

"Yes." Severus murmured. He clenched his hands, willing himself not to reach for her, not to take her in his arms and ascertain for himself whether she was real or simply a figment of his overactive imagination. He licked his lips, bowing his head in an introduction he had never formally given. "Severus Snape. Potions Master."

Willow nodded, eyes wide with wonder, her breaths coming in short, painful gasps around the lump of heart in her throat. The room was still, absolutely quiet. A pin could have dropped and they would have had no trouble hearing it. No trouble at all. Her breath caught in her throat completely, though, as the sound of the fire roaring up behind her reminded her of someone far more important than herself and the man she had never thought to see again.

Sera.

"Momma?"

The red head’s eyes widened almost impossibly larger and time seemed to slow to a crawl. She turned her back on Severus. A large chair blocked their line of sight from here, hiding someone as short as a child. So he hadn’t seen her.

Yet.

The Professors on the other side of the room had, however. And they hadn’t missed the exchange between herself and Severus, either. She could tell by the looks on their faces as she walked to the fireplace that they had put two and two together. It was hard not to do just that, given the resemblance Sera had to her father. She lifted the girl into her arms, praying for strength in this room full of people she had only just met, and turned back to Dumbledore and Severus, a shaky smile on her face.

"I’d like to introduce you all to my daughter, Seraphina."

~*~

" – my daughter, Seraphina –"

Severus Snape felt as though his entire world had just fallen out from beneath him. His eyes were locked on the child, held so protectively in her mother’s arms. Black hair, dark eyes and pale skin. A nose that had run in his family for centuries. Was there any doubt who’s daughter she was? And, as if he needed more proof, she even appeared to be the right age. Somewhere between four and three, just as it should be if she had been conceived that night.

He sat down heavily, eyes still fixed on the woman and child that were even now approaching him. He broke contact for just a moment to look at Dumbledore, and saw a look of pure shock. There was no way he had even had a hint as to who Willow was. Not if he was this shocked.

And then they were there, kneeling before him. His angel and –

"Well, then, Severus Snape." Willow murmured, not bothering to lower her voice. Everyone had guessed already, anyway. And Sera would take it well; she had always wanted to meet her elusive father.

"I’d like you to meet your daughter."

For the first time in his life, Severus didn’t have a witty retort or a scathing comeback. He had nothing to say as he held out his hand, rubbing a thumb along Sera’s cheek as she smiled brilliantly at him.

"Well," Dumbledore murmured, almost to himself. "Nice to know I am not the only one that had no idea this was coming."

~*~Part Three~*~

While Dumbledore found the entire introduction to be flooring, though mildly amusing; Severus Snape found it to be no such thing. He was scared, terrified even, of this small child. The beautiful black eyes staring back at him were just like the ones he saw every single time he looked in the mirror; crystalline in their dark depths, capable of being haunting and filled with a wealth of emotion at the same time. Her black hair, bound in a ponytail of some sort, had escaped in places, wisps of the feathery looking stuff framing her pale, childlike face. His own mother had hair like that.

Sera’s grandmother.

Oh, Merlin. He was going to have to tell his mother about Sera. How in the world was he going to manage that?

‘You see, mum, I had this one night stand with this adorable little muggle a few years back. Turns out she’s not a muggle and I got her quite thoroughly knocked up. Want to meet your granddaughter?’

That would not go over well, at all.

He sat back, eyes closed, a million and one questions going through his mind though he was loathe to put any to voice with all of his colleagues standing around, gaping at his shock. His mouth opened and closed but nothing came out, words escaping the usually witty, if not often sarcastic, Professor. He was aware of Willow; still kneeling in front of him with Sera perched precariously on her knee. Without even opening his eyes he could picture the delightful witch that had spent a night of passion with him so long ago, when he had thought her to only be some cute Muggle college student. Being this close he could smell her delicate fragrance, still vanilla based after all these years. Try as he might, even with the very real evidence of his indiscretion sitting in front of him, Severus couldn’t find it within him to regret one single moment of that night. It was one of the few things he could think of as he lay on the ground, wracked by the pain of the Cruciatus at Voldemort’s feet, that gave him the strength to get up and keep going.

"I think it would be best," he heard Dumbledore murmur. "Considering the recent shock, if we hold off on welcoming Professor Rosenberg until dinner tonight."

There were whispers of assent and the sound of movement. A door opening and then shutting again after the last teacher had left.

"You can open your eyes now. They’re gone."

Severus opened his eyes hesitantly. He sat up, looking around the room. Even Dumbledore was gone, leaving him completely alone with Willow and Sera.

Sera, who looked for all the world as though she were going to burst if she didn’t say something very soon; but that was still quietly biding her time for the right moment. He moved his eyes from the child to the woman holding her, the red head’s slight smile melting the shock that had encased his heart.

"Do you want to talk later?" Willow asked, hesitant. He was shocked, as was his right, and she wanted to give him time to think about what he already knew without forcing him to talk if he wasn’t ready. This had to be what amounted to one of the biggest shocks in his entire life. It wasn’t every day that you found out you had a daughter that was almost four years old. The wrong words or tone of voice could be disastrous at this point, especially in front of Sera.

And the last thing she wanted was for something –else- unforeseen to happen today.

"Who’s he?" Sera asked, her voice the voice of innocent and reason in the trouble moment.

"He’s –" Willow paused, her eyes fluttering frantically to Severus’. Did she tell Sera? Risking the fact that the man sitting so still in front of her may not want anything to do with the adorable bundle of joy in her arms? The Goddess only knew how long Sera had wanted a ‘Daddy’, someone like the other children had. Xander had been a good surrogate for a while, but Sera had still known that he wasn’t *her* Daddy. He apparently saw the question she was silently throwing to him, and responded for her.

"Your father, Sera." He murmured. His dark eyes were fixed on the child’s face again, searching for any sign that he had upset her with his words. Not even a half hour into meeting her and he was already vying to make her happy, to have her approve of whom he was and what he was to her. His students would no doubt fall out of the chairs, or just plain dead, in shock. "I am your father."

Sera regarded him for a long moment; her lips pinched together in a thin line that was so much like his own pensive expressions that Severus almost laughed out loud. He took a deep breath as she opened her mouth to finally speak, realizing for the first time that he had been holding it in to begin with.

"Are you a chemist?"

"Am I a - ?" The query came out more confused than he had intended, his normally unflappable feathers once again becoming ruffled. He looked from the child to her mother and then back again, not getting the joke that was so apparently passing between them.

Willow laughed, the sound musical in the empty, stressful atmosphere of the staff room. Trust Sera to come up with the icebreaker that they needed. She bit her lip, the weight of Sera on her knee finally getting to her, causing her back to ache in painful spasms. She didn’t want to interrupt their conversation, though; so she waited patiently for a good time to set Sera down again.

"Are. You. A. Chemist?" Sera asked again, her eyes dark with annoyance. He may be her ‘father’, but he was just as silly as any other guy. Maybe even sillier than Uncle Xander! She crossed her arms, waiting with all the patience she could afford for him to answer her question.

"No." Severus replied this time, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Why?"

"Mommy said you might be one because I like mixing things together. But I told mommy that you weren’t a chemist." She turned her face up to Willow’s, smiling as brightly as only a child who had just won an ‘argument’ could. "See, mommy, told you he wasn’t a chemist."

Willow snorted, giving into the smile that had been hiding behind the worried press of her lips. She looked from Severus to Sera and then back again, shaking her head. To think that she had gotten out of bed with every intention of arriving at her new workplace and getting ready for the upcoming semester. She had never in a millennium imagined that she would see Sera’s father again, after more than four years; much less that she would be sitting in front of him, her daughter interrogating him on exactly what it was that he did for a living.

"I am a Potions Master." Severus explained gently to the child, leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his knees so that he could be closer to her level. "I mix things together, much like a chemist."

"So –" Sera frowned. "Mommy *was* right?"

And now Severus found it within himself to laugh. It was hard not to, looking into her dark, sparkling eyes, so full of mischief and intellect. Right now it was apparent that the idea of her mother being right in this subject was not sitting very well with the child, and so he appeased her.

"No. Mommy was not right."

"Oh! Good!" Again the smile returned, just as bright as before.

Willow sighed, seeing her chance at getting up from the floor. She set Sera gently on her own two feet and stoods, a pained expression on her face. She turned trying to hide it from Severus. There was no reason for him to know that she’d been hurting herself, kneeling like that with Sera’s weight in her arms. But he was too quick, too sharp.

"Your back?"

Willow turned back to him and nodded, a strained smile on her face.

"Poppy has something for back pains." He paused before offering. "Or I can bring something by your rooms in a bit?"

He was, Willow realized, looking for a reason to come by and visit, to probably talk. It was a polite way of ushering her to her rooms so that she could rest, while still ensuring that he would get to speak with her, at length, later that same day.

"Bringing some by would be heaven." She murmured, suddenly shy. "It’s been a busy morning. Sera could probably use a N-A-P."

Sera jerked her head up, her fingers still holding onto the sleeve of Severus’ robe that she had just been playing with. She frowned at her mother, her mouth set in a scowl.

"I know what N-A-P, means."

Willow smiled indulgently at her child, rolling her eyes good-naturedly for Severus’ benefit.

"Of course you do, sweetie."

"And --?" Sera prompted imperiously.

"And you’re still going to take a nap." She was smiling, but her tone didn’t give any leeway for disagreement from her daughter. Out of the corner of her eye Willow could see Severus smile and a warm feeling filled her, a sort of pride that he seemed to find her parenting methods okay so far.

Not that she needed his approval or disapproval, she reminded herself. She was a single mother before this and she was well prepared to stay that way if he wasn’t up to the task of being a daddy to Sera. She wasn’t looking to drag him back to her bed or anything, though the idea did have merit (he *had* been terribly brilliant in that department). But the idea of him playing daddy to Sera was nice, even if that was as far as their own relationship ever got. She could be single. That was fine with her.

Though, now that she mentioned it, getting him bed again would be great.

First things, first, though.

"Can you come by in, say, an hour, with that back ache remedy?"

"Potion."

"Hmm?" She murmured, arching an eyebrow at her.

"It’s a potion, not a ‘remedy’. Try not to make it sound so mundane."

Willow smirked, shaking her head. So her mystery lover was a bit of a wizarding elitist, was he? Didn’t like ‘ordinary’ things? What term had Giles used for it? Muggle?

Good thing neither herself nor Sera were very ordinary.

"Fine, then." She grinned at him. "Potion. Will you come by in an hour with the *potion*?" She resisted the nagging urge to stick her tongue out at him, instinctively knowing by his mannerisms that he wouldn’t appreciate the playful, yet childish, gesture. He seemed far unlike the man she had taken to her bed that night – not as playful, definitely less talkative and warm, and his appearance was somewhat different from what she remembered as well.

But he still looked good in her book.

"Yes, Professor." He smirked, standing in one easy, liquid motion. "I will bring the potion to your room in an hour."

"Thank you." She murmured. She looked down at Sera, holding out her hand to the child. A treat was definitely in order for the stellar behavior she had exhibited so far, though Willow knew it was mostly due to being overwhelmed – new home, new people, and a new Daddy. So much for a child to take in all at once. Willow had a feeling it would all erupt in one way or another at some point in the very near future.

‘Hopefully not in a temper tantrum.’

The red haired witch threw another smile at Severus, offering a silent thanks to him for letting her stall the inevitable talk they would need to have, and started towards the door.

Only to stop dead in her tracks.

She turned back to him, a blush creeping across her face.

Severus arched an eyebrow at the beauty that was blushing so elegantly in front of him, waiting for her to say what was so obviously on her mind. He could only pray that it wasn’t one of the many questions he knew he would need to answer before the day was over – he too needed some time to compose himself before their talk began.

Thankfully, though, it was nothing of the sort.

"Do you know where exactly my rooms would be?"

~*~Part Four~*~

Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk when his Potions Master trudged slowly into his office. The Headmaster couldn’t read anything in the way the dark haired Professor was carrying himself, outside of an extreme hesitation, an almost supreme reluctance to be here.

Which was understandable.

"Sit down, Severus. Lemon drop?"

Snape shook his head, collapsing into the indicated chair. His eyes were on the floor, his thoughts far from the office and centering solely around the red head he had just left in her rooms with the promise to return shortly with the potion she needed for her back pains.

And, of course, for their ‘talk’.

"This is something of a shock, of course."

That brought a dry laugh from the mouth of the Potions Professor, his lips twisting up in a thin line that could possibly be called a somewhat mocking smile.

"Somewhat of a shock?" Severus murmured. "It is the single most shocking thing to every happen in my life, up to an including initiation into the Death Eaters, and you say it is ‘something of a shock’?" He snorted, "You are a master of the understatement, Albus."

Dumbledore shrugged mildly, popping a lemon drop in his mouth. They sat in silence, the older man waiting for his Professor to collect himself enough to discuss whatever was on his mind.

He didn’t have to wait long.

"What am I to tell her?"

"About?" Albus prompted, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. The effect made him look that much more like a wise old man, someone to come to for advice; just what he had wanted, of course.

"About me." Snape answered quietly. "She has a right to know. Sera has a right to know. It didn’t matter when it was just supposed to be one night. One harmless night of loving. But now --"

"Do you regret it?"

"No!" The vehemence of Snape’s reply took Dumbledore by complete surprise. He really should have expected it, after all, though. The normally cold Professor had come back from his trip to Sunnydale with a new outlook on things. He had been no easier on his students, of course, but his trips to Voldemort had seemed to come easier to him, as if he had found something to hold onto during those dark moments.

And it seemed he had.

"I will –never- regret that night." Severus said evenly. "However neither one of us was expecting a child, I’m sure you are aware of that. I did not inform her of who I was, where I was from. I didn’t even know she was a witch, for Merlin’s sake!"

"And now here she is and will remain, the child with her." Dumbledore smiled gently. "And you must make a decision. It is totally up to you, of course, though Professor Rosenberg is bound to hear of your illustrious past from someone eventually. Better it be you than the flapping lips of one of the students or less discrete staff members."

The look of anxiety on the Potion Master’s face was replaced by a sneer.

"You are right, of course. But how to break it to her? ‘I’m sorry, precious, but I am a very bad man. I have killed, raped, pillaged all in the name of a good time. Can I still see my daughter?’"

The words were spoken without the slightest trace of emotion, negative or otherwise; but Dumbledore knew better. He could see the assumed hurt that lay behind the words and knew that Severus fully expected for the newest Professor at the school to hate him once she knew the truth. How was he to know the capacity for kindness that the young woman brought with her, honed by years of dealing with creatures not even the best DADA teacher had ever come across?

"Do not assume too much, Severus." Dumbledore murmured in sympathy. "She has her own tale to tell. Her own sorrows to extol. Do not rest assured in her apparent virtue before giving her the chance to get to know you and vice versa."

"You are right, as usual." Snape frowned, though he wondered what the Headmaster meant regarding Willow’s ‘virtue’ and ‘sorrows’. She was his angel, no matter was meager sins she may have committed in her past.

"Go to her." The Headmaster urged. "Speak with her. Get to know that delightful child of yours. The term starts in less than a month. Best to get over everything now, before the students return."

Snape paled at the mention of the students returning. They would take one look at Sera and know right away who’s daughter she was. There would be hiding her from the cruelty of the student body or the cunning of the Slytherins. And Voldemort would know. Just as soon as Draco owled his father for the first time, the Dark Lord would hear about his child. The child he had with an apparent Muggle-born witch.

He groaned, shutting his eyes and leaning back into his chair.

"She will be in danger." Snape whispered. "Both Sera and Willow. Voldemort will not be pleased with me."

"Then perhaps you should fade gracefully from the spying business?" Albus suggested gently. "You have served in that capacity for far too long as it is. And then will be safe enough here, in the castle."

"I cannot stop, Headmaster. Even if the next meeting means my death, I will still go."

This was his price to pay for the mistakes he had made as a teenager, Snape felt. Whether he was doomed or not he would go, bow down at the feet of the Dark Lord and grovel as was appropriate. He would swear he obedience and listen attentively and hope that he made it back at the end of the night.

Back to Sera.

"Was there anything else, Severus? Since I cannot talk you out of your ‘mission’?" The Headmaster’s voice was bitter, resigned to the fact that he would never get the man that he had come to think of as his own son to stop doing that which was so dangerous.

Snape shook his head, standing swiftly.

He left Dumbledore’s office without another word, his feet taking him automatically down through the corridors and into the dungeons. His private rooms were down here, near the Potions class and the entrance to the Slytherin dorms. With a murmur of the password the wards on his door gave way, allowing him to throw open the heavy oak. He drifted past his sitting room, through the bedroom, and to the small cabinet at the far side of the room. Another password and the lock on that, too, opened. He stared at the shelves, each bottle labeled so neatly in his own scrawling script. The one he needed was on the middle shelf, to the right. The translucent violet-colored liquid sloshed in its vial as he pulled it from the cabinet, replacing the wards with a flick of his wand.

He held the potion vial in his hands, feeling the coolness of the glass heat up in his grasp. Enough time had passed since he had left Willow that he could return with the potion and their talk could begin.

And yet he still hadn’t found the words to say what needed to be said.

There was no way around it, of course. If he wanted to see his daughter, that charming little child, he was going to have to go talk to Willow. Had it escaped his mind that there may still be something to rekindle with that woman that had held him so lovingly in her arms so many years before?

No.

Not at all.

But he didn’t dare get his hopes up for that. Especially not with what he needed to tell her.

Sighing, Severus Snape left his rooms, rushing headlong to meet his fate.

~*~

Sera sleeping?

Check.

Hair brushed and makeup touched up?

Check.

Handsome Potions Professor?

No check.

Willow flopped into one of two chairs that had come with her room, both arranged near the fireplace with a small wooden table between them. She stared at the dead coals, the unburned logs, and sighed.

Who would have thought that this day would come? And that it would come on the heels of her beginning her new job? Were the Fates sitting around, laughing behind her back about the joke they had played on her? There was little that could have turned her world more upside down than this had short of a death in her immediate circle of friends and family.

"You really should keep this closed."

The red head whirled in her chair; a familiarly silky voice playing havoc with her already frazzled nerves and equally touchy hormones. She peered over the back of the chair at him, a smile tugging at her lips as he leaned against the frame of her open door.

"I know, I know. Just letting the room air out."

"Then may I suggest using the window? You never know who might wander down the hall."

"Already my knight in shining armor, Sev?" She stood up, moving around the chair to stand in front of him. Her eyes darted over the features she had imprinted in her mind so long ago, noting only mind changes. His skin was paler, his eyes looked more sunken. He looked more tired than she had remembered him, older even. It pained her heart to see him look so worn out. He was still handsome, but not in the youthful way she remembered.

"Has life been hard since we last met?" She whispered, almost to herself. Her hand moved with a will of its own, her finger tracing along his jaw.

"I am not sure I understand the question." Severus murmured, allowing her gentle touch. Her hands were just as soft as he remembered, just as delicate and teasing. Her caress was still as sweet as those memories he had played over and over in his head, time and again over the last four years.

"You look so tired. So pale."

He understood –then-. When she had met him he had been free of the guise he normally wore while at Hogwarts. Wand in hand, he murmured the simple charm to release himself from the effects of his disguise. Now she would see what she remembered.

"There we go." She smiled, pulling her hand back. Her eyes relayed her curiosity, despite the smile that she put on to hide it. "But – why? Why the ‘mask’? Is this your true face or the other?"

It was the perfect lead-in for the conversation he needed to have with her, and so he took it.

"Let’s sit down." He gestured at the chairs, lighting the fireplace with a flick of his wand. Only once she was seated did he take a deep breath and being, committing her kind face to his memory as though it might be the last time he ever saw her look at him in that way again.

"There are some things about me that you should know."

~*~

Willow listened, sometimes in horror, as the father of her child told her about himself, about his past, and about the general history of the wizarding world in the last few decades. She schooled her face to remain as neutral as possible during the telling, hoping to hide the disgust she felt at some parts. And when it seemed like he would falter, like he couldn’t go any further, she murmured the words of encouragement that he so obviously needed. With a heavy heart she listened to the tales of this Voldemort creature and what he did to wizards and muggles alike. It was despicable.

She couldn’t have honestly said how much time had gone by when he finally finished what he had to say, his eyes guarded.

"Thank you." She whispered at last, after silence had stretched between them for a few long minutes as she composed her thoughts. "I realize what it must have cost you to tell me all of that. I needed to know, though."

‘Here it comes,’ Severus braced himself mentally, already trying to distance himself for what he felt he could safely assume would happen next. ‘The part where she tells me she cannot possibly allow me in Sera’s life. Do I blame her?’

The answer was – not at all.

"However." Willow continued, her eyes gentle. "If you came here expecting me to kick you out and tell you to never darken my doorstep again – you’re in for a shock."

Okay.

So it was the last thing he expected.

"I – I am?" He managed to stammer out, between the painful jumps of his heart in his chest.

"Yes." Willow said firmly. "So you did some bad things. No big. One of my best friends is currently seeking his redemption for acts probably a thousand times more horrible than the darkest deed you ever did. And he’s still my friend. He’s Sera’s godfather, in fact."

"And," She continued, before he could interject with questions on what exactly she had meant by that (there’d be plenty of time to tell him about Angel later), standing and pacing as she spoke. "I have my own dark past. Not quite as dark as yours, mind you. But still dark. I tampered with dark magic. It was addicting, painfully so." She shook her head, remembering her own naiveté in the matters of the Dark Arts, her trips to see Rack, and the pain it had caused her and her loved ones. "I didn’t even know what I was doing until after it was over. Only then did I see that I’d gone down the wrong path. But for those weeks, as I went for high after high, I was nothing more than a junkie."

Severus stiffened as she choked out those last words, her back to him. He stood instinctively, turning her to face him. The tears on her face were the last thing he would have expected.

"This happened after we --?"

"Yes." She admitted quietly, wiping the tears from her face. "Before Sera was even two years old. I’m lucky Giles and Buffy and Xander were there. Anya came back around that time, too. She was a big help when I was trying to get over the addiction. She knew what it was like."

The tears had stopped, but the pain remained – for both of them. He stood there, unknowingly providing comfort with his presence alone. With their souls laid bare there was little left to be said in the way of history. Only the present and future remained.

"I want to be part of her life, if you will let me." He whispered, when the silence had become unbearable.

"Of course I’ll –let- you." She snorted. "You are her father. She’s gonna want to be right there, by your side, mixing potions and telling you all about Dusty before you know it."

"Dusty?"

"Her cat." Willow informed him. "Giles is going to bring him over when he comes to visit the Watcher headquarters next month. Sera was very insistent that we not ‘take Dusty into the fire’ with us because she didn’t think he’d like it." She shook her head, smiling.

"Adorable." Severus breathed. He let his eyes wander over the room as he processed everything that had happened that day. He had a daughter. She was going to be living at Hogwarts and the woman that he had been quietly obsessing over for over four years was here, as well. That same woman knew about his past and forgave him for it.

Amazing.

"Sev?"

The Potions Professor turned his attention back to Willow, hiding the smile that seeing her brought out in him.

"Yes?"

"Do you think we can, you know, get to know each other, too? I’d sorta like to spend time with the man that my child is going to call father."

It was the most innocent request he had ever heard, but it hid something much more complex. She was asking if they could possibly have a relationship. He tilted her head up, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead; chaste and promising at the same time.

"There is nothing I would like more."

~*~

With their permission, Dumbledore informed the staff that was currently in residence of the story of Sera and her conception. It made it easier when dinnertime came, in the Great Hall. Willow looked up in awe at the enchanted ceiling, pointing it out to Sera as they walked down the long room and to the single table that had been set up for the teachers that were staying over the summer. Severus was waiting, that secret smile on his face, his spelled guise back in place.

Her new colleagues welcomed her one by one as she arrived at the table, finishing the greetings they had been forced to forgo earlier that day upon Sera’s arrival. There were a few awkward moments, but they were smoothed out in short order. Precocious as ever, Sera quickly wormed her way into the hearts of the staff with her curious, well formed, questions, going from Professor to Professor as they socialized.

"Professor?"

"Yes, child?" Professor McGonagall asked, smiling gently at Sera over her glass of pumpkin juice.

"Do you know any neat tricks?"

Minerva raised an eyebrow at Sera, the sweet innocence of the question taking her aback.

"Well," The deputy headmistress murmured. "I suppose I do know just one ‘neat trick’." She pushed her chair back and stood, her eyes closing as she transformed into the shape she took as an Animagus.

A cat.

And from that moment on Sera lovingly referred to the normally stern Professor as "Aunt Kitty", much to the ever amusement of Dumbledore and the rest of the staff.

~*~Part Six~*~

Willow glanced across her room at Sera, watching as the ever precocious child played with the miniature Potions set her father had given her only that morning in honor of school starting. Or that’s what he had said it was ‘in honor of’, at least. The present last week had been simply because it was ‘Tuesday’. Sera was getting spoiled.

The set that Severus had given her was adorable, though. The little cauldron was the perfect size for making single dose potions yet still small enough that Sera didn’t have any trouble with the actual stirring part of it. The fire beneath of it was magical and wouldn’t burn the child’s skin if she happened to be careless enough to touch it with her hands or arms. Not that that was likely, Sera was turning out to be just as exact in her Potion making as her father was, despite the fact that she hadn’t yet turned four years old. Along with the cauldron and a starter wand that he had had Olivander measure her for only the week prior, the set came with nearly two dozens small bottles of ingredients. Severus had assured her, repeatedly, that the ingredients were such that they could not possibly be mixed or consumed in any combination that would produce harmful effects.

And if he said that was the case, she really had no room to argue. He was the Potions Master, after all. Wasn’t as if he’d knowingly allow Sera to do anything to hurt herself, either, her reasonable mind argued, watching as the child consulted the chart in front of her, color and symbol coded to match the bottles, and measured out a bit of reddish powder. Sera tossed it in the cauldron, the resulting mixture puffing red smoke into the air.

"Was it supposed to do that?" Willow asked her daughter.

Sera shrugged.

"Dunno. Can’t read the rest of the ‘structions."

"Ah." The red head leaned down, looking over her daughter’s shoulder. Just as she had thought. The potion –was- supposed to do that, being a harmless draught to induce red clouds of fog for parties and the such. She smiled at her daughter proudly.

"You got it right."

"Daddy be proud?"

"Of course he will." Willow grinned. "You’re his little Potion Buddy, aren’t you?"

Sera nodded emphatically, her raven locks bouncing up and down with the exuberant motion.

"However." Her mother sighed sympathetically. "It’s time to get some sleep now. You have to be up early so momma can go to class."

"But daddy’s not here to tuck me in yet."

Willow grinned. The ‘tucking’ in practice had been started after only being in the castle for a few nights and now Sera was hooked. Willow truly doubted she’d be able to get her daughter into bed anymore if Severus wasn’t around to cover her up and kiss her forehead.

"Daddy should be here any minute now." The young mother assured her. "You go get cleaned up while we wait."

Sera nodded and scrambled to her feet. A quick wave of Willow’s wand cleaned up the mess the child had made of her Potions set, leaving only the cauldron in its messy state. Sera would, no doubt, want to show her completed potion to Severus before she consented to being put in her bed.

"Speak of the devil." Willow murmured, a knock sounding on the door to her rooms. She smoothed down the crisp green shirt she was wearing, her robes already hanging in her wardrobe, ready to be worn in the morning, and opened the door.

"Good evening, Miss Rosenberg."

Willow shivered under the silky smoothness of Severus’ voice, her eyes closing just marginally as she let its pleasurable tone wash over her.

"And a good evening to you, as well, Mister Snape." She swung the door wide, inviting him silently into her rooms. Door shut, Willow listened intently for just a moment to make sure Sera was caught up in her nightly washing before pouncing on Severus. She planted her lips on his, her tongue gently teasing across his lips, begging for entry into the warm cavity of his mouth.

Which he happily obliged her.

The kiss was quick, fleeting, as all had to be with Sera capable of walking out at any moment and seeing them. Willow was quite adamant about not wanting her daughter to see too much ‘mushy’ stuff at a young age, especially from her parents, and was determined that faltering in that would scar the beautiful young girl for life.

"You do realize that children see their parents being affectionate all the time?" Severus murmured into her mouth as she pulled back, her eyes darting furtively to the door to the bathing room. "At least, that is what I can assume."

"Never saw your parents getting smoochy with each other?"

"My parents…"

Severus blinked in shock, the mention of his parents reminding him very forcibly of something he had not yet done.

"Sev?" Willow whispered. "What’s wrong? You look like you just took a chair shot to the head."

"A what?"

"Nevermind. Muggle wrestling reference." She waved off the questioning look in his eyes with her hand. "Now what’s wrong?"

"I just realized something. Something dreadful."

Willow raised an eyebrow at him, making a vain attempt at patience. When it was obvious that he was still lost completely within whatever thoughts he was having, she poked him on the chest, not too hard but not too soft, either.

"And what is that dreadful something that you’ve realized?"

Severus blinked down at her, his dark eyes showing something absolutely unheard of for his normal unflappable composition.

He was afraid.

"What’s wrong?" Willow repeated, her own tone worried. She could hear Sera still in the bathroom, the sink running as she washed up. Whatever had spooked Severus needed to be taken care of now, before their daughter came out and joined them and caught sight of her daddy looking very un-daddy-like.

The Potions Master took a deep breath, exhaling raggedly. He met her eyes with his own and murmured.

"I haven’t told my mother yet."

"You haven’t – Oh dear." Willow closed her eyes, tilting her head up to the ceiling as if asking the stars for their help. Okay. So he hadn’t told him mother. That was a bad thing, of course. But it wasn’t the end of the world.

She hoped.

"So – you need to do that." The witch sighed. "Soon. Like – tomorrow night or something."

Severus nodded absently. He had absolutely forgotten about the fact that his mother didn’t know about Sera. Not exactly a difficult task since he only spoke with the woman a few times a year.

"Is she going to be upset?"

"I honestly have no idea."

~*~

The next morning seemed to come even earlier than usual, though Willow had a sneaking suspicion it was due to the fact that she had sat up with Severus until the early morning, discussing when would be best for him to break the news to his mother, if Willow and Sera should even be there for that moment, and, if not, when would be a good time for the venerable Mrs. Snape to meet Willow and Sera.

Sera was already in the common area of their suite, coloring in a book of magical coloring pages that Hagrid had gotten for her; this of course after Willow had made it quite clear to the half-giant that Dusty was more than enough of a pet for her child and no, they didn’t want Flobberworm when he got his next shipment in. With her daughter being so peaceful, Willow had a moment of quiet to herself.

She pulled on a white button-up shirt, her fingers deftly buttoning it up within a few seconds. With a pair of simple black trousers already on, the red head was free to shrug on her robe. She glanced in the mirror next to her wardrobe, a nice Muggle piece that she had purchased after the mirror the room came with had insulted her once too often, and was happy with what she saw – a beautiful young woman, very professional looking. Her hair was flowing down, across her shoulders. Severus liked it long. She hadn’t done more than gotten a trim since he had mentioned that a month earlier.

The thought of her current steady brought a dazzling smile to her face and she had to admit that the expression made her brighten up considerably. Makeup wouldn’t be necessary today as long as she kept Severus in her mind.

"Just need to not think about the whole ‘mother’ thing." She muttered.

The truth was, however, that she couldn’t get the problem out of her mind. By his own admission Severus knew that his mother wasn’t entirely accepting of Muggle-born witches. He had admitted to her quite candidly that that was one of the reasons he had been so accepting of the Death Eater code of conduct. He had been raised to think that way so that it was ingrained in him. Only once he had started living his own life, making his own mistakes, had he even begun to notice that maybe he had been wrong all along. He had been quick to reassure her that his mother wasn’t nearly as bad as some people were, though.

And then there was the matter of Sera. The child had been conceived out of wedlock and there would be no denying that it had been a one-night stand. There was simply no way around the fact that her and Severus had gotten horizontal, never once even exchanged contact information or thought about using contraception.

"She will be delighted at having a grandchild." Severus had told her, his voice as comforting as he knew how to be. "My lack of marriage and procreation is a topic that she brings up at every chance. If nothing else she will adore Sera for that reason."

Unspoken had been the implication that perhaps she wouldn’t be as thrilled with Willow. You could love your grandchild and not love the mother of said grandchild, after all. They were, in no way, a package deal.

The red head sighed and forced the smile back onto her face. She wouldn’t let this get her down. Not when her first day of classes was looming in front of her.

"C’mon Sera. Time to go."

"School time!!!" The child yelled happily, grabbing her bag from the floor. She would be able to sit in on the class so long as she didn’t act up, Dumbledore’s orders. Willow had no doubt that her daughter would be the most well-behaved child in the class, undoubtedly better than any of the actual students. But, just in case she got bored listening to lessons she couldn’t actually participate in, she had a bag full of quiet toys and activities.

"Gotta go to breakfast first, baby." Willow reminded her. She took hold of the child’s hand, leading her through the still quiet hallways and into the Great Hall. Already the staff had assembled, with the exception of perhaps one or two of the professors that Willow knew already preferred to take meals in their rooms. Severus was not, fortunately, one of those people, she had learned; and she flashed him a smile. There were two empty chairs to his left, as usual. And, though he didn’t openly return the smile, she saw the twinkle in his eyes and knew he was pleased to see her.

"Morning, daddy!" Sera exclaimed, waiting for him to help her into the seat closest to him. The students sitting nearest the staff table took note of this with open shock. She had called him ‘daddy’. That sealed it. She was his daughter. No getting around it.

"Good morning to you." He murmured, lifting her into her chair and placing a bit of egg and toast on her plate. It hadn’t taken long at all for him to learn that it was best not to give her too much food. She was a very light eater and would scarcely finish the few bites he had already placed on her plate, much less anything more.

"And a good morning to you, as well, Professor Rosenberg."

Willow bent her head down, hiding the blush that stole across her cheeks. It was just a job title, a mere courtesy, but the way he said it, so smoothly and seductively, it sounded like more. That was the voice he used in the bedroom and he was using it here, at the table. She glanced up through lowered lashes but there was no indication that any of the nearby students had heard him.

"Good morning, Severus." Now it was her turn to play the tease, her own voice just as low and silky as she knew how to make it. She saw him stiffen out of the corner of her eye and knew that she had achieved the results she was looking for.

"Your first class is this morning?" He asked her, making what idle conversation they could in a room that was growing ever more crowded. Neither of them wanted the students to know anything more about their personal lives than was absolutely unavoidable, so best to keep the topics of conversation to the innocuously innocent.

"Yep." Willow nodded, helping herself to a spoonful of scrambled eggs. "First period. Third years – Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, I think."

"Of course." Severus smirked. "Because that would mean that third year Slytherins and Gryffindors will be paired up. It is tradition, you see. Partner up the two houses that hate each other the most for every single class, every single year and see how long it takes for anyone to get seriously injured."

"Oh dear." Willow raised her eyebrows. "And how long does it usually take?"

"For the injuries?" The Potions Master fought back a smile at the look of shock on her face. After a month learning the ins and outs of the school she still didn’t know everything there was to know. The little rivalries and bickering that would pop up just as soon as classes began and the students were forced to mingle. "I wouldn’t give it more than a few hours, at most. I have the Dream Team for Potions during first period."

"The Dream Team?" She was sure that that was a phrase she hadn’t heard him use before.

"Potter, Weasley and Granger. Our resident Gryffindor heroes."

"Ah." Willow nodded. She had heard of them. Troublemakers, but with good hearts. And, yes, they had saved people a time or two, but so had she and that didn’t make her a saint, either.

"In fact." Snape drawled, leaning forward, elbows on the table. "If you look towards their house table, you can probably catch them staring at us right now. Insufferable little gossips."

Willow turned quickly towards the Gryffindor table, raising her eyebrows at the three children who were, very openly, staring at her, her daughter, and Severus. She felt her face twist into a scowl and was rewarded with them hastening back to their breakfast. Beside her, Severus picked up a napkin, hastily covering his mouth lest the smile that had broken out go noticed by those same, ever nosy, Gryffindors.

"I don’t like nosiness." The red haired witch muttered.

"Being nosy is evil." Sera agreed, looking to her father for confirmation.

"That it is." He assured her, before turning his attention back to Willow.

"You will be taking her with you today?"

Willow nodded, grateful for any topic that would take her mind, hopefully, off of the fact that she and her precious child were the center of the school’s gossip mills.

"And then you can have her in Potions tomorrow." She paused. "Unless you’ve changed your mind?"

Snape shook his head.

"It will be a delight having at least one knowledgeable person, other than myself, in the room with me."

Sera was practically bouncing with excitement.

"She is definitely your child." Willow grinned, popping the last bite of her toast into her mouth.

Severus raised an eyebrow, his eyes amused even though his mouth was still set in his trademark scowl.

"Was there ever any doubt?"

~*~Part Seven~*~

"You’ll do fine, dear."

Willow spared a nervous smile for Professor Flitwick. He had become like a father figure to her during the month she had been getting ready for the beginning of school; and she cherished whatever advice he had for her, even at times like this when it was nothing more than simple reassurance.

"I hope so. This whole teaching thing will be new to me, you know. I’m used to being the student, not the teacher."

"And so you are still the student this year." He reminded her, patting her arm gently from his perch on the stool behind his desk. "You are still learning as you assist, are you not? And you were a good student back in the States?"

She tilted her head slightly in concession, a slow smile creeping across her face.

"Of course."

"Then, do not be worried."

It seemed so simple when he said it like that. She glanced over at Sera, already immersed in her coloring books. The child had very little interest in charms and had told her mother in no uncertain terms not to expect her to pay much attention. Willow had, of course, agreed. She would rather her daughter spend the time during class quietly coloring and playing with her picture books than chattering because she was bored to tears.

"Don’t worry, he says." She thought to herself as students began to file into the room. They looked at her curiously, and then Sera, but didn’t stare or point. There were whispers, but nothing too obtrusive or spoken so loud that she could hear it. That was the way she liked it. She didn’t want to know if they were talking about her, spreading rumors about her.

Okay, so maybe she –did- want to know, but it was easier to ignore it all if she just didn’t have to hear it. Her eyes darted to Sera and she was happy to see that her daughter didn’t seem disturbed by the situation. In fact, she was eyeing the students as though they were interesting, something new to learn and investigate. And, unfortunately, the word investigate seemed to be very much the correct term.

"Uh oh." Willow murmured, watching as her daughter got up and walked over to one of the tables. She took a step forward and then caught herself, deciding to see what Sera was up to.

"What’s that?" The black haired child pointed to the crest on the robe of the Hufflepuff girl she had come to stand beside. Her mother didn’t have a crest on her robe, but the students did. It was definitely something new.

The girl glanced at the Professor that was standing oh so nearby, waiting until Willow had given her a hesitant nod before answering.

"It’s my House crest."

"House?" Sera wrinkled her nose. "Isn’t this a school?"

There was a titter of laughter throughout the room and Willow relaxed. Sera could win over the hearts of any group she chose, and she had chosen this class, it seemed. Even Flitwick looked up, shaking his head with a grin on his face. The bell would be ringing within the next five minutes and then Sera would need to sit, but for now she could just be a child.

"The school has four Houses." The Hufflepuff girl smiled patiently. "Hufflepuff, that’s me. Ravenclaw – that’s them." She pointed across the room at the students with the blue and bronze crests on their robes. "And then Gryffindor and Slytherin."

"Hm." Sera frowned in consideration of the information she had been given. "What House is momma in?"

"I don’t think she’s been Sorted, erm, given a House yet." She rephrased immediately, seeing the confusion on the child’s face at the word ‘Sorted’. She knew Sera had been there the night before, but didn’t feel like explaining the entire Hat thing to her right at that moment. She looked to Professor Rosenberg for confirmation.

"No. I haven’t." Willow admitted. "Though we’re all hoping the Hat will put me in Ravenclaw at the end of the year." She flashed a grin at ‘her’ side of the class and they responded with hesitant smiles of their own.

Sera nodded, thoughtful as ever, and then sprung the one question the poor Hufflepuff girl could never have seen coming.

"What house is my daddy in?"

The girl flushed and stammered, looking to Willow for help. She didn’t want to assume anything about Professor Snape and Professor Rosenberg. Sure, there were rumors and the way that Snape handled Sera, but still! To assume could be awful.

"He’s in Slytherin." Willow smiled gently. "But I think you already knew that, Miss --?"

"Hopewell." The Hufflepuff offered. "Emily Hopewell. And, yes ma’m, I knew that, sort of. It’s not like it was confirmed or anything, though."

Willow smiled in understanding.

"Then, let me officially confirm that her father is the Head of Slytherin House." She smiled mysteriously at the room and gave them a wink. "But that’s all I will confirm or deny – so don’t ask anything else, k?"

The students laughed and Willow immediately felt more at ease. They hadn’t been invasive or overly questioning, in fact they had been timid. True, this was Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, Houses known for thinking things through before opening their mouths. She had no delusions that her time with Slytherin and Gryffindor would be so easy.

And, since she had those Houses’ fifth years right after lunch, she knew she’d find out sooner rather than later.

~*~

Sera and Willow took lunch that day in Severus’ class with the help of a few of the house elves. The red head related to the Potions Master the events of her morning, eliciting a smile from the normally grim Professor.

"You should have seen poor Emily’s face when Sera asked which House her daddy was in. I thought I was about to see the first ever spontaneously combusting Hufflepuff in existence." She chuckled. "She didn’t know whether to just answer as she thought was right or die of fright right then and there."

"It is probably a good thing that you officially confirmed what they have all been saying behind our backs, anyway." Severus nodded thoughtfully. But just as quickly the look was replaced by something dark and altogether unhappy. "And, speaking of going behind someone’s back –"

"Your mother?" She could tell just by the tone of his voice that he was dreading whatever came next.

"Yes." He sighed. "Someone seems to have already informed her of the situation. No doubt one of the students writing home to a parent, who wrote to a friend, etcetera, etcetera. I received a Howler from her right after first period. Thank Merlin that the students had already left, though I am deathly sure that the ones in the halls still heard it."

"Couldn’t get the sound-proofing charm up quick enough, Sev?" Willow joked lamely, earning herself a glare from her lover.

"What’s a Howler?" Sera interjected.

"Its, ummm.." Willow began, shrugging at Severus. "An angry letter?"

There. That was a good an explanation as any.

"Oh! I wanna see. Can I see it Daddy?"

Severus Snape shook his head.

"Sorry, love. They eat themselves into little pieces when they’re done with their message."

Sera raised an eyebrow at him, almost as if to say that she didn’t believe a word he was saying. Who had ever heard of a letter eating itself?

"I lie to you not." He assured her. "I am sure you will see one sometime this year. The parents are quite enamored with sending them to their students."

That seemed to pacify Sera for the time being, and she turned back to her lunch, leaving her parents to discuss the contents of the Howler.

"What did she say?"

"What do you think?" He answered, raising an eyebrow much as Sera had done to him only moments before.

"That bad?" She retorted.

"Of course." He smirked. "She expects us on her doorstep directly after our last classes of the day."

"She. What?" Willow stammered, shaking her head. "Oh no. You can’t make me go and meet some woman who just wants to yell and be mean and – Sera doesn’t need that."

"She will not yell at you." He affirmed. "Nor will she be cruel to Sera. I appear to have taken the brunt of her anger." He smiled, humorlessly. "She referred to Sera as her ‘precious granddaughter’, at least."

"This is a good sign?"

Severus shrugged, popping a grape into his mouth.

"Could be worse."

~*~

After lunch was the class Willow had been dreading all day. She sighed and stepped into the class, noting that some students were already at their seats. Three in particular she recognized as the ones Severus had called ‘The Dream Team’. She led Sera along the back wall; coming to stop behind the red headed one. She motioned for Sera to stay quiet and waited. They had yet to realize she was standing there, and so she got to hear some interesting gossip.

"Well, I heard that she is actually his live in mistress. Someone Dumbledore brought in to reward Snape for being such a loyal little spy."

Willow smothered a giggle. Now –that- was an amusing rumor, if not completely and utterly inaccurate. This had come from the dark haired boy. Harry Potter. She shook her head. He really needed to learn not to pass along rumors, especially absolutely ludicrous ones such as that.

But the one that came from the red haired boy was even worse.

"Well I heard from Ginny, who overheard it from a group of Slytherins in the hallway, that the kid’s the Heir of the Dark Lord and was kept hush hush so that no one would try to kill her. Now that she’s at Hogwarts we’re all doomed."

Sera shot her mother a look as if to ask if these odd students were possessed of no common sense. Willow shook her head, all amusement fading. She could not and would not have anyone saying that her daughter was in –any- way related to the Dark Lord. Face set in an expression that would certainly make Severus proud, the red haired Professor cleared her throat.

"Is that so, Mister Weasley?"

Hermione was the first to regain her composure enough to turn in her seat and look at the Professor. She muttered an ‘eep’ worthy of a mouse and immediately blushed a bright crimson. Harry and Ron, Willow noted, were much slowly to turn around, and did so as though they new there would be Hell waiting for them.

"Let me make something very, very clear." Willow glowered, her eyes cold as she held Sera’s hand reassuringly. "My daughter is not and never has been the Heir, Tool or anything else for the Dark Lord –and- neither have I. We have not met him and, I assure you, should we ever do so – I will gladly hex him into near oblivion for all that he has done."

Her voice had rose steadily, gaining the attention of some of the very same Slytherins that had started the rumor – Draco among them. He smirked at the confidence in the Professor’s voice.

"I am –also- not Severus’ Mistress, Mister Potter; and I would thank you to stop spreading that rumor."

"What are you then?"

Ron Weasley knew the second he asked that that had been the wrong thing to say. Willow felt her anger rise up, like a flood through her body.

"Detention. Tomorrow at eight. In the dungeons with Professor Snape." She sneered at the look of abject horror on his face. "And next time you wish to inquire into the status of mine, or –his-, personal life – please go straight to him. I am sure that he will find it very, very amusing."  She pushed past their table and to the front of the room, not sparing them another look lest she do or say something she would regret. Professor Flitwick gave her a reassuring smile and she knew that she hadn’t gone too far.

At least – not yet.

"Now you’ve done it!" Willow heard Hermione hiss, followed by a sharp ‘thump’ as the brunette fwapped him upside the back of his head. "When are you going to learn to just keep your mouth –shut-, Ron! I told you two that it was none of your business –"

‘I like this girl already.’ Willow thought to herself, getting Sera settled at her little table with her books and crayons. The bell rang just as she finished unloading her daughter’s bag and the red head turned to face the students, noting that they didn’t so much as look in her direction for more than a second without fear entering their eyes.

Good.

Now all she had to do was survive meeting Severus’ mother and everything would be just fine.

She hoped.

Part Eight: Mother Dearest~*~

Snape Manor was, Willow decided, a most uninviting place to visit. Oh, it was perfectly lovely, but definitely in an old-world gothic style that seemed to reek ‘darkness’. She shivered, bundling her cloak tighter about her as she walked slowly a little to the left and behind Severus. Sera, for her part, didn’t seem to notice that the house they were walking slowly up a long walkway to was anything other than completely ‘normal’. She didn’t see the evil glares the gargoyles gave off; the spikes on the fence surrounding the immaculately cultivated property didn’t bother her in the slightest and the delicately trimmed bushes that were shaped into snakes didn’t seem out of place in the least.

But they bothered Willow.

And then there was the aura that the building gave off. It was Dark, and not in the desperately needing light sort of way. This was the type of Dark that meant Dark Arts, Dark Magic, and a very real need for a DADA class worth its salt. She bit her lip, her eyes darting frantically to the back of Severus’ head. She couldn’t let Sera enter that house if its Mistress was a Dark Witch.

"Your mother –"

She paused, her mouth snapping shut as she realized there was no polite way to ask what she had been about to ask. How –does- one go about asking their lover if their mother is a practitioner of the Dark Arts?

Severus was too sharp to be fooled by her sudden cessation. He could see it in her eyes; the way she continuously cast about, searching for hidden dangers. She was worried.

"The house was designed by my grandfather." He informed her, the corner of his mouth quirking in an almost-smile even as he sought to reassure whatever frantic thoughts were flitting through her brain at no doubt light speed. "And, yes, he did practice."

He left unsaid exactly what it was that his grandfather had practiced. Didn’t it go without saying? And now that she knew what she was looking for, Willow could see that the slight ‘auras’ of Dark Magic that permeated the building were old. Very, very old. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Better now?"

Willow tilted her head and murmured ‘yes’. They were nearly at the doors to the Manor now, and the red haired witch could see someone moving about through one of the windows, their silhouette clear with the light behind them. She bit her lip and sighed with a renewed case of worry.

"You will be fine." Severus assured her, stopping before the door. He didn’t immediately knock, though, instead choosing to kiss her gently on the lips, much to the amused disgust of Sera.

"C’mon mommy. Daddy. That’s not good." She wrinkled her nose up. "Grandma’s waiting."

And, indeed, she was. The door opened almost immediately upon Severus letting fall the impressive, if not old-fashioned, iron knocker. It clattered into its resting place, the door swinging open to reveal a very frazzled looking house elf.

"Master Severus." It bobbed its head up and down, its own little way of bowing. "It is good to be seeing you again, Sir."

"Twinkle." Severus nodded once in greeting. "My mother is expecting us?"

The house elf nodded, swinging open the door wide enough to allow them to enter. Her eyes grew wide when Sera stopped immediately in front of her, their heights so similar that they were on eye level with each other almost. The house elf blinked at the little girl, then at Severus, then back at Sera, a coy smile playing across her elfish features.

"Who are you?" Sera asked in wonder.

"She has never seen a house elf?" Severus murmured to Willow, his eyebrows rose in wonder.

"Well, we didn’t exactly use them back in Sunnydale, you know." Willow huffed. "And I don’t let her go traipsing through the kitchens now that we’re at Hogwarts." Her face softened as she watched the exchange between her daughter and the elf. "Besides. I’m opposed to the slavery of any sentient creature."

"Indeed." Severus was now fully struggling not to smile, or laugh, he hadn’t quite decided which yet. "You and Miss Granger should have a chat, then. She made it her life’s work last year to get pay and benefits for the house elves."

Willow snorted, chuckling softly.

"And to think I’d settled for letting them wear clothes."

The little elf looked up, gasping at Willow.

"No, missus, no! We is not wanting clothes." There were great tears beginning to form in the creature’s eyes just at the mention of the prospect of fashion adorning their gangly figures. The little elf rung her hands frantically, one large tear rolling out of her eye and down over a pink tinted face.

"Do not trouble yourself, Twinkle." Severus sighed, casting a reproachful look at the red head next to him. Apparently there were still many things she needed to learn about this Society she had so ingrained herself into. "There are no clothes in your future."

"Thank you, Master Severus!" The little house elf exclaimed, completely and thoroughly ecstatic by that simple comment.

"And now, if you would take us to my mother?"

"Of course. Of course."

With that Twinkle led them slowly and quietly throughout the hallways to the left side of the entrance, stopping before a grand set of double doors. They were carved of a very peculiar black wood, with silver trim and, upon closer inspection; Willow could see the snakes carved around the handles. She turned to Severus with an eyebrow raised.

"Your grandfather was in Slytherin?"

The Potions Master nodded, his mouth twitching again as he fought off a smile. Even after spending countless hours together over the summer, after building up a relationship from scratch, they didn’t know everything there was to know about each other. It was refreshing, in a way.

"All of my family has been in Slytherin. For countless generations. I have no doubt Sera will be one day, as well." He informed her with a smirk, just as Twinkle pushed open the doors to the sitting room his mother had chosen for their confrontation. He winced inwardly. Confrontation was such a strong, negative word. But what else could it be called? She had found out before he could tell her and now was in what could only be considered a ‘huff’ about it. He swallowed down his pride, knowing it would get him nothing but trouble with the woman that was sitting in that room, waiting for them to enter.

He preceded Willow into the room, only vaguely hearing Sera murmur something to her mother. His own mother was standing now, facing them, and he wondered what Willow saw when she looked at her. Long, dark hair, flowing freely around her shoulders. It wasn’t the black that ran on his father’s side of the family, but was still a dark enough brown as to be ‘close enough’. Her eyes, which were still unreadable from here, were the darkest of browns, much like his own; so dark that the seemed black pools that one might fall, or be sucked, into at any time. She was dressed as she normally would be for lounging around the house, though she was wearing more jewelry than usual. The black robes were decorated with just a touch of burgundy that shimmered when she moved. Nothing too fancy, but still not simple either.

Let it never be said that his mother was a simple woman.

He had to admit, as they silently crossed the immense distance between the door and his mother, that the house looked wonderful. It would be his one day, when she passed, probably many, many years in the future due to the longevity of witches and wizards. He was neither looking forward to it nor not looking forward to it, the feelings he had for his mother bordering on apathy at most times.

"Severus."

The cool, velvety voice of his mother broke him out of his mental wanderings and he realized, with a start, that he was standing right in front of her. Behind him Sera was humming softly, under her breath, as children her age were wont to do when bored.

"Mother." Severus Snape took his mother’s hand in his own, brushing his lips across her knuckles in greeting. He let his eyes meet hers at last, as he released her hand. She was mad, yes. But the aura of fury he had come to recognize in her just wasn’t present. He breathed an inner sigh of relief and turned to gesture Willow and Sera forward. His daughter quieted immediately, he was pleased to see, and presented herself for introduction as if she had done this a million times before.

"Mother, if I may present Willow Rosenberg. Willow, my mother, Terese Snape."

Willow stepped forward, lightly grasping the older witch’s hand with a murmured, ‘pleased to meet you’ and then returned to her spot next to Severus.

"And this is Seraphina." The Potions Master smiled lightly, completely out of character at the sight of his daughter, so ready to please, practically bouncing up and down with excitement over meeting her grandmother. "My daughter, mother."

Terese looked down at her granddaughter, the corner of her own mouth twitching in a way that spoke volumes about where Severus had learned that expression from. She knelt down slowly, in front of Sera, smoothing back a piece of black hair from her forehead. Quiet wonder seemed to illuminate her face from the inside out, making her look even younger than she already appeared.

"She has your eyes. And hair."

"And nose." Severus demurred. "Let us not forget the nose."

"How could I forget?" Mrs. Snape shook her head.

"You’re my grandma, right?" Sera asked, dropping all pretense at ceremony now that this strange woman was kneeling in front of her, touching her so gently, sorta like her mom did sometimes.

"Yes, my dear. I suppose I am." Her tone was strained, but not unpleasant. It was more as if she had trouble believing that she was a grandmother than to be upset because of it.

Sera nodded, thoughtful.

"Does that mean you’ll give me presents like Grandpa Giles?"

"Sera!" Willow sighed and met Terese’s eyes. "I apologize. She’s at that age…" She blushed, feeling as though her own parenting skills had been called into question by her child’s lack of tact.

"That’s quite alright, my dear." Terese murmured, standing up, her hand resting lightly on top of Sera’s head. "Severus was quite the demanding child at this age, too, from what I recall."

"Mother –" Now it was his turn to sound strained.

"Oh, really?" Willow arched an eyebrow, snatching onto this tidbit of information. "Its hard to picture him as ever being demanding."

Terese Snape smothered a smile.

"I believe we shall have a lot to talk about."

~*~

Two hours later, Willow had to admit that Terese Snape wasn’t as bad as she had assumed. If she was prejudiced against Muggleborns, she did a good job of hiding it. Sera was currently curled on one of the couches, taking a nap. She had tried her best to be good and stay awake, but a simple question from her grandmother of whether or not she’d like a pillow and blanket had all but done her in. It was getting rather late, Willow conceded.

And so it was, with a false sense of security, that Willow wandered blindly into Terese’s grasp.

"So – your parents, what do they do?"

The red haired witch bit back a frown at the mention of the people she had the unfortunate pleasure of calling her parents.

"They are psychologists."

"Psychologist?" Terese managed to stammer out, the word completely unfamiliar to her.

"Muggle doctors of the mind, mother." Severus helped warily.

"How – interesting." His mother arched an eyebrow and Willow couldn’t tell if that was disdain in her voice or complete lack of interest.

"Mother –" Severus began, his voice tinged with the beginnings of anger. Apparently that had been disdain she had heard.

"Oh, do stop, Severus." Terese Snape snapped, glaring at him from beneath hooded eyes. "I’m not going to eat the poor girl alive simply because her parents aren’t from Society." She sniffed angrily at him. "I was simple inquiring about their occupation."

"And then –"

"Yes, well, and then I found it to be completely out of my range of understanding." She shrugged.

"I will not play games with you, mother." Severus sighed, tired. "Please, I beg of you, do not speak ill of Willow, my daughter or their family. She is the woman I love, after all."

Terese heard a gasp issue forth from the red haired witch that had otherwise been sitting quietly, waiting for the row that was about to start to, hopefully, end very quickly. She flicked her eyes to Willow, surprised to see that the younger witch was looking at Severus with something very much akin to stunned shock on her face. Well, well. Her son did appear to have a way with words that led much to be desired.

"You look as though you could use some fresh air." Mrs. Snape suggested. "The door over there leads to the gardens."

Willow nodded, flashing her a grateful smile, and took off without saying a word to her lover.

"Stay." Terese commanded, when her son rose to follow the red head.

"I need to see what is wrong." He growled, angry with himself or his mother, whoever had managed to upset her. A quick glance at the couch showed that Sera was still sleeping, oblivious to the exchange.

His mother laughed.

"Here’s a hint, Severus. Did you bother to let –her- know how you felt before so casually telling –me-?"

With that Severus felt the world slide out from under him. He put his head in his hands and sighed, forlornly. Of course.

"No. I did not."

"Well, then. That is what’s ‘wrong’ with her at this moment." His mother smirked.

"Bloody –" He stood, following out the same door Willow had fled into only moments before. He could see her already, as he shut the door behind him. She hadn’t gone far into the gardens, at least.

"Willow –"

"Do you mean it?" She interrupted. "Do you love me?"

He nodded, once, unable to bring himself to say it again lest she throw it right back in his face. Rejection had never suited him.

"Oh good." She sighed, nearly collapsing into his arms.

"Good?" He found himself repeating.

"Yes, good, you silly man." She smiled up at him, her lips just begging to be kissed. "Because I love you, too."

~*~Part Nine~*~

Seraphina Snape was lost.

She hadn’t meant to get lost. Not in the least. In fact, the idea of getting lost never once crossed her mind. After all, Hogwarts was her home.

She hadn’t even meant to leave her mother’s rooms, either, though.

But Dusty had other ideas and had darted out in a moment of pure random kitten action, slipping through the slightly cracked door of their rooms and into the halls. Her mom was in the bath. Her father was probably teaching. And poor Dusty was out There. All by himself. Poor kitty.

So she had decided to be Dusty’s hero.

Unfortunately for her, Dusty didn’t want to be saved.

The kitten had run her down one hallway and then another, getting her so twisted up in directions that she didn’t quite know where she was until, finally, she stopped right in the middle of a hallway that looked like it –could- be somewhere near her father’s classroom, and just stood there, fear beginning to creep into her dark eyes. Dusty was nowhere to be found and she was quite thoroughly lost.

And the dungeons were very, very scary. Those flickering torches on the walls. Not even real fire, her mom had said. Just magic lights that looked like flames. They didn’t give enough light to see by really, one way or the other. So who cared if they were flames or magic?

Sera certainly didn’t at that moment.

"Mommy?" She whispered, cringing as her voice echoed back through the shadowy dungeon hall. Something moved in the darkness, down at the far end of the hall. Or, at least, that’s what she thought she saw. It was hard to tell, all the shadows were blending together and she was sure her imagination was getting overworked, as her mother would say. She backed up a step, her eyes focused on the spot where she was ‘sure’ she had seen something moving just a moment before.

Sera yelped, her step backwards sending her right up against something.

No, someone, she corrected herself, feeling the object she had run into move.

She turned, slowly, blinking hesitantly at the girl that was standing there. It was a student. Someone that could help her, right? The crest on the girl’s robe was for Slytherin, Sera immediately noted. Maybe she could show her where her father’s –

"You shouldn’t be down here."

Sera blinked up at the older girl, her mouth instinctively falling into a sneer of contempt for this perfect stranger that seemed to want to do nothing more than tell her she had broken a rule or something.

"I wasn’t –trying- to be down here." The raven-haired child explained none-too-patiently, rolling her eyes. "I got lost chasing Dusty."

"Dusty?" The Slytherin raised her eyebrows.

"My cat."

"Ah."

Sera glanced behind her, searching in the darkness for that thing that she could almost swear she had seen; missing the look of complete scheming joy on the Slytherin girl’s face. It was a look that clearly said ‘finally, my chance’. If Sera had seen that look she may have been a little worried when the other girl held out her hand, offering it to her with seeming sincerity.

"I think I saw a cat on my way in from outside."

"Really?" Sera’s face lit up with happiness. This girl wasn’t so bad, after all. What did those gossipy Gryffindors in her mother’s classes really know, anyway?

"Sure did." The other girl nodded. "C’mon. I’ll show you where."

Sera took her new friend’s hand, eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of not only getting out of the dungeons, but also finding her lost kitten. She followed obediently along behind the girl, never once questioning where they were going.

~*~

Severus looked up as the door to his class was flung open, a flushing, frightened Willow standing on the other side of it. He could hear her ragged breathing from across the room, could see the rise and fall of her chest. She looked like she had been running, her wispy hair falling from its careful bun to encircle her face. Immediately he felt his blood run cold, his breath catch in his throat. The students were gaping at him, staring openly. Little hellions.

"Quiet!" He snapped through clenched teeth at his class before standing to meet Willow in the doorway. He threw one last glare at the third years before shutting the door behind him, leaving himself and the frantic looking red haired witch to talk in peace.

"What is wrong?"

"She’s gone." Willow cried, breaking down completely now that she could pass along this vital information that she had held in her heart for the five minutes it took for her to get from her rooms to his class.

"She –" Severus paused, his mask falling out of place as the realization of what Willow was saying hit him, like a hex to his stomach. He exhaled slowly, stars swimming in his line of sight. Worry unlike anything he had ever felt before spread its way from his toes up to his head, bringing with it waves of dizziness. "Merlin –"

"I was taking a bath. When I got out she just wasn’t there anymore. I tried a weak locating spell, but couldn’t find her anywhere on the school grounds or immediate area. She’s nowhere, Sev. Nowhere nearby, anyway. My poor little girl. Where could she be. How could she have gotten far? It was only a few minutes. I only let her out of my sight for a few minutes. She was playing with her potion set."

Severus felt something rather much like nausea begin to join the downright fear that had erupted from Willow’s revelation and subsequent babbling.

"Someone had to have taken her." He murmured, mostly to himself. There was no way Sera could have gotten very far without someone helping her.

Or forcing her.

He felt a coldness settle over him, overriding any other emotions he may have been feeling up to that moment. This called for a level head. They had to tell the Headmaster, of course. He would be able to set things in motion, to get the word out about Sera.

Willow watched as her lover gathered his wits about him, casting off the insubstantial worry and fear he had felt only moments before in order to take the lead. She collapsed willingly into his arms when he held them out to her, offering comfort in his embrace.

"We must go to Dumbledore." Severus murmured after a moment of comforting the sobbing woman in his arms. "He’ll know who to contact, what to do."

Willow nodded. She heard the startled gasps of the Potions students as their Professor slammed open the door, ordering them all out and to arrive at their next class with a two foot scroll comparing and contrasting various sleeping draughts. And then Severus was leading her away from the class and down the hall at a frighteningly furious pace. The hand holding hers was there, squeezing like a vice, seeking comfort in the reassurance that she was there to go through this with him and he with her.

Within moments they were standing in front of the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore’s office and, in another minute, they were in the office itself. Everything was happening so quickly to Willow, who’s mind was stuck in a constant replay of the moment she had realized Sera was no where to be found. She felt sobs clogging up her chest, pressing against her heart, threatening to break through her very skin if she didn’t let them out. She wanted to scream, to cry, to shake and then, maybe break something.

Though her mouth began to move, answering Dumbledore’s quiet, but dead serious, questions, she couldn’t seem to attach the action to herself. It was like she was just a guest in her own body, on the inside looking out. Shock, her brain informed her, was not a pretty thing – and it seemed like she was experiencing it first hand, at a time when she didn’t need anything to weigh her down or distract her from what needed to be done.

Finding Sera.

"And you performed a standard locating spell?" The Headmaster inquired gently, his fingers drumming absently on battered wood of his desk.

"Yes. Of course." Willow stammered. "I couldn’t find here anywhere in the immediate vicinity. But – I don’t know how she could have gone very far. I was only in the bath for fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. Not long enough to get past even the front gate, I would think. Not at her age."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully and popped a lemon drop in his mouth.

"It would appear that she has been taken, then."

Severus stifled a sigh, unwilling to irritate Dumbledore when they needed his help so much. But, really, wasn’t it obvious already that she had to have been taken?

"I will contact the Ministry immediately. See if we can get an Auror or three out here to start figuring everything out." His kind eyes met Willow’s, then Snape’s. "We will do everything in our power to find her, make no mistake about that. Go rest for now. I will let you know when they arrive."

Willow nodded, mute. She felt Severus’ hand on her elbow and allowed herself to be guided from the room, back into the halls. She couldn’t feel anything. Not fear or anger, happiness or sadness. Her heart had become a void in the space of only a half hour. He led her down into the dungeons, past his class, taking a sharp turn at a hallway that was charmed for students to never notice it. His room, last door on the left, gave way with a wave of his wand, the wards falling away like leaves under a heavy breeze.

Only once they were inside his rooms did she allow herself the luxury of breaking down into a true sobbing fit. Her thin frame shook with the power of her grief, a sense of hopelessness washing over her in wave after wave of emotion. She felt her knees give out from beneath her. She was powerless to stop the sudden collapse of her body, straight down towards –

Severus’ strong, waiting arms.

She sighed into his embrace, her body going limp as he lifted her from the floor completely. They moved through his study and into the bedroom. Only a few nights had come and gone during which they had spent time together in this room. Usually he preferred hers. It was still a new enough experience that she allowed her eyes to roam over everything, taking it all in if only to stave off the hysterics waiting at the edge of her consciousness to overwhelm her.

But there was only so long that one could relish the beauty of a room decorated in the colors of Slytherin House, and within only seconds she found herself back to thinking of Sera.

"My baby." She whispered. The bed sank down next to her and, without turning her head; Willow knew that Severus was right there. He took her hand and she noted absently that his palms were sweaty. "My baby is out there, Sev. She’s out there without me. Oh, Goddess. What if she’s hurt or --- What if – "

"Shhh." Severus murmured, gathering her into his arms. He was just as distraught as she was, but there was little they could do at that moment. There were stronger locating spells, of course, but those would take immense concentration to even have a remote chance of working and, unfortunately, neither himself or Willow was up to anything involving concentrating at that moment.

Somewhere, though, in the back of his mind, his subconscious was whispering that he knew where Sera was. That he knew what had happened to her, as vile as the thought may be. Who else would kidnap her? Who else had anything to gain? No one except the one person on the face of the Earth whom he had hoped somehow never found out about Sera.

Voldemort.

And, if that was truly the case, then this was all his fault. He had been the one to once associate with the Dark Lord, of course. The Death Eaters’ movements were watched very carefully for the most part. Keeping a child hidden for almost four years would be a matter of great concern for a creature as paranoid as Voldemort was. And, to top it all off, Willow was Muggle-born. To use the vernacular, she was a Mudblood. The lowest of the low to arrogant prats such as Voldemort who thought only purebloods deserved to live. Even if he hadn’t still been attending Death Eater functions in his role as spy for Dumbledore, Sera would still have been a potential target simply because of who her father *had* been.

Yes, if Sera was in Voldemort’s hands, it was most definitely his own fault.

All of it.

~*~Part Ten~*~

Sera felt weird, like she had taken too much of one of her father’s sleeping potions and had been asleep for days, or maybe even weeks. But she hadn’t taken anything that morning. There hadn’t been any reason to. Not unless mommy had slipped it to her while she was eating. But --

Nah.

Mommy would never do that.

Not to her, anyway. Maybe to daddy when he was in his Grumpy mood, though.

The raven-haired child opened her dark eyes slowly, squinting in pain as light assaulted her somewhat sensitive eyes. Her hands and feet were bound to the object she was laying upon, a bed of some kind, and the ropes were digging into the soft flesh of both regions. She whimpered softly, biting her lower lip in pain though she refused to actually cry out because of it.

"Did you learn that trick from your precious father, child? How not to scream? He’s so very good at it. Won’t even mutter a word when I hex him. Did he teach you not to scream? Didn’t he tell you that it just hurts more if you don’t let it out?"

Sera jerked her head to the left, stars shooting off in her brain just like in the cartoons Uncle Xander liked to watch. There was a man standing by the wall, a cloak covering him from head to toe. She couldn’t see his face, but there was something about his voice that told her she didn’t want to, either. It was like the hissing of a snake, but still a man’s voice. She shivered, uncontrollably.

"Afraid of me?" He growled out in hissed sibilants, taking a step closer to the bed. Still his face was shrouded in shadow, something for which Sera was glad. He didn’t move like a normal person. This was more of a slithering gait that took him from the wall to her bedside in a fashion that she decided was definitely snakey in nature. And, although her father had told her that snakes didn’t necessarily represent evil, Sera knew one thing instinctively.

This man was pure, complete, unedited, evil.

With a capital E.

She shuddered again, her innocent face twisting into a mask of disgusted fear as one of the man’s hands reached out towards her. She could only see the very tips of his fingers, from the top knuckles up, but that was enough to show her that something was very wrong. The fingers appeared rough, almost scaley, sort of like something her father would use in a potion. Or maybe he’d just cut them off and burn them, like mommy did to demons back home when she didn’t want them to come back.

Yeah – burning sounded like the best choice.

"Not afraid of you." She managed to ground out, between teeth clenched so tight that, if her mother had been present, she would have been yelled at for ‘grinding’ them together. The fingers stopped in mid-descent, hovering just above her cheek, so close that there was only a hair’s breadth of space between them and her skin. She held her breath, hoping that he would back away, just get away from her. Where were her parents? Why was she here? Where was here anyway?

"You should be, my dear." He hissed quietly, angrily. "You very much should be."

"My daddy is going to hurt you." Sera nearly growled, overcoming her fear for just a moment. She had to think that mommy and daddy would be proud of her, not giving in to this dark, evil man that only wanted to cause trouble. "And then mommy will get to hurt you, too. And mommy can be very mean when she’s angry!"

The man chuckled; a sound that scared Sera even more than his voice had been doing only moments before. It was soft and hollow. The type of laugh that said that he didn’t think she was funny in the least.

"Is that so? Severus, the one that has apparently betrayed me, is going to hurt me after all these years? He’s a weak, pathetic fool. And then your ignorant Mudblood mother will do the same?" He laughed again, this time quite loudly and definitely filled with something Sera recognized as sarcasm.

"Dear, dear, *child*," the man spat, inching that much closer to the side of the bed, until she could smell the awful reek that came up from his clothing and body like an aura of foulness. She gagged. "Your mother and father do not even know where to find you. How do you propose that they ‘hurt’ me? Or *save* you?"

Sera stifled a sob, the pain forming a painful lump in her chest that she refused to set free until the man, finished with his taunting rambles, swept from the room. She lifted her head long enough to see the door swing shut, the sound echoing through the bedroom she was chained within. She felt tears burn the corners of her eyes. Her throat was tight and dry, nothing sounded better than a cup of warm milk – the kind her mother made sometimes at night before bed.

But her mother wasn’t here.

Nor was her father.

No one was there except herself and the bad, evil, scary, hideous, disgusting, stinky man!

Sera laid back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling just above the bed. White ceiling, white walls. But the paint was cracking, chipping, and falling in little flakes to the floor. There were bits of it on the bed, too; she could feel it under her hands. She wanted to cry and scream, but didn’t dare give that evil man the satisfaction.

What had gone wrong?

She had been walking out with that girl. Had she ever said her name? No. Just some Slytherin girl. Black hair. Dark eyes.

‘Shouldn’t have trusted her.’ Sera thought sullenly. ‘She must have done this.’

And then the most devastating thought of all hit Sera. So much worse than being in a scary place without her mother and father. And now she really did want to cry, just a little. The tears spilled from her eyes and down over her cheeks, wetting the raggedy pillow behind her head.

She had never found Dusty.

But now that she was thinking of what had happened, Sera could recall more than just leaving the school with that dark haired girl. She remembered walking to the edge of the school with her, past a secret door in the walls. Then they were in the forest. Mommy had told her to never, ever go in the forest and so she had been scared and wanted to go back in the school, but the other girl wouldn’t let her.

‘I scratched her. Hit her.’ Sera still had the presence of mind to be proud of the defense she had put up. She remembered the look in the other girl’s eyes when she had realized her cheek was bleeding – that Sera had actually scratched her hard enough to leave a mark, a bleeding, angry mark.

There were no more memories past that. Except – a voice – maybe that girl’s – casting a charm or curse or something.

‘And now I’m here.’ Her brain continued the narrative miserably.

"Mommy – daddy ---" She whispered plaintively, praying the man wouldn’t come back.

~*~

Severus Snape found that it was impossible to sleep through the banging on his door after he had desperately tried so hard to ignore it. Anyone that was of any importance would have either just undid his wards and come right in, such as Dumbledore, or called to him through the Floor. Therefore the person making all of that noise couldn’t possibly be anyone that he absolutely needed to speak with at that moment. Willow seemed to be having no trouble, no doubt due to the liberal swallow she had taken from the potions in his private stores before flinging her sobbing body into his bed. He extricated himself gently from the sleeping woman, looking down at her with more tenderness than he had ever felt before in his entire life.

Willow.

Mother of his child.

‘Merlin. Sera.’ Severus thought unhappily, shuffling to his door. Whoever was on the other side had bloody well have a good reason for disturbing him at that moment or he was likely to use and Unforgiveable on them.

"Professor?"

The Potions Professor glared balefully down at the third year Slytherin standing before him; a part of him wondering who the student had bribed just to get the location of his rooms.

"Detention, Mr. Walsh."

"B-but, sir. I heard something, in the common room. About Se –"

Before the student could even finish his statement he was being pulled inside the room, Snape’s grip on his arm furious.

"What did you hear?" He growled dangerously.

"Millicent." Jeffrey Walsh gasped, squirming a bit in his teacher’s grip. Severus looked down at the hold he had on the boy’s arm and let go, standing back a step and crossing his arms, as if to keep them from reaching for the student again.

"Go on, then." Snape hissed. "What did you hear Millicent say?"

"She has this cut, on her cheek." Jeffrey continued, terrified to his core. Only now did he wonder at his own sanity, coming down into the bowels of the dungeons to tell his teacher what he had heard from one of his fellow Housemates. If Snape didn’t kill him, Millicent just might. "Pansy asked her where she got it and Millicent said that she had taken ‘Snape’s kid’ for a walk…straight to You-Know-Who. She’s a member of the Junior Order, you know."

Snape hardly saw the student cringe back in fear of being the messenger that faced the brunt of the Potion Master’s unequalled wrath. But no wrath was coming. Instead, it looked as though his Head of House might fall dead over.

"S-sir? Sit down."

Severus looked down the student that was tugging aimlessly on his arm, trying to guide him to a chair. Did he look that pale? That far gone in the head? He was only thinking; gathering his thoughts. No time to wake Willow right now. The Potion Master shook him off, his face falling into its familiar sneer.

"You. With me."

Before Jeffrey Walsh could utter a word of protest or question, he was being dragged along by his arm, through the corridors of the dungeons and then up into the heart of the school. Hall after hall flew by as he ran to keep up with the long strides of his Head of House. He was gasping for breath by the time they stopped, before the gargoyle that led to the Headmaster’s office.

"Sir. Please. I didn’t do anything."

"I realize that. Quit sniveling. It is quite unbecoming in a Slytherin."

Again Jeffrey allowed himself to be hauled quite roughly along, as they moved quickly up the stairs and into Dumbledore’s office. The kindly old wizard was already standing, his face grim.

"Severus – the Aurors should be here any moment now. I was just about to send for you –"

"He has information." Severus snapped, cutting off his friend and mentor with an agitated wave of his hand in the general direction of the huddling, terrified mass of Jeffrey Walsh.

"Information?" Dumbledore sighed, gesturing for the student to take a seat. He held a bowl of candy out to the petrified youngster and waited for him to put one in his mouth before beginning. "What do you know about the disappearance of Sera?"

"Millicent Bulstrode did it. She said so in our common room. Looks like her face got scratched during the struggle. She’s a member of the Junior Order. This was her ticket in when she turns seventeen. That’s what she told Pansy."

"Oh dear." The Headmaster murmured, not daring to meet Severus’ face as he asked his next question.

"And did Millicent say where she took Miss Sera?"

Jeffrey swallowed hard, looking from the Headmaster to the Potions Master and back again. He looked in Dumbledore’s eyes for a long moment and that was all the answer that was needed. The old wizard sat back heavily on the edge of his desk, regarding both Severus and the student with grave concern. He felt as though he had failed both Professor Snape and Professor Rosenberg for allowing such a dastardly act to happen in a place where Sera should have been safe. For once he had no idea what to say. No earthly clue as to what he could do to make things right.

"Sweet Merlin."

~*~Part Eleven~*~

It was agreed that, for the next part of the investigation process, Severus would not be present. There was no other way to keep him from single-handedly strangling his erring Slytherin student as they sought from her the answers that were needed. The inquisitors were to be three – Willow, Dumbledore and McGonagall. An Auror would be present to take an official record of the events that occurred during the questioning.

And the method of interrogation that night was to be Veritaserum.

Willow shivered with horror as she listened to the story the stocky Slytherin girl wove about them. Dumbledore’s office had never seemed so cold and unfriendly as it did at that moment, as Millicent Bulstrode unwillingly gave up the secrets of her heart. She had done it for the glory of fulfilling one of the Dark Lord’s mandates. He wanted Sera simply because of who Severus was, a spy for Dumbledore; though Millicent wasn’t aware what exactly he wanted the child *for*. So she had taken her out of Hogwarts, past the anti-apparition wards and to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She had stunned Sera good, earning herself some bruises in the process, and then had apparated with her to her family home.

"And that is where Sera is now?" Dumbledore asked quietly. His eyes were not twinkling. His spirit most definitely was not merry, and he knew that if he did not find Severus’ lost daughter he might very well lose the Potions Master entirely. He had never seen his Professor become this incensed, and it was completely within reason. However, reason would not be there to stop Severus from tearing this cocky girl apart limb from limb if they did not find Sera and fast.

Millicent shrugged at the question, but the Veritaserum demanded an answer to be spoken – and so spoken it was.

"Don’t know. Don’t care."

Willow stood up, losing her cool entirely at the nonchalant way that the *bitch* was speaking of her daughter’s kidnapping.

"You should care." The young witch hissed, darting to stand in front of Millicent before either McGonagall or Dumbledore could stop her. The Auror watched, detached, not moving an inch either way. She was there merely to record what happened, whatever that may be; and there was no doubt in her mind that Millicent Bulstrode would get sent straight to Azkaban for her crimes. Willow grabbed hold of the girl’s chin, forcing her to look up and into her eyes. Eyes that had gone black with the Darkest of Arts that Willow knew, the ones that could very well have her thrown in Azkaban for the rest of her life should she let them loose.

But wouldn’t it be worth it? To wipe that sneer off of Millicent’s face? To make her feel some of the anguish both Willow and Severus felt because of their missing child?

"You should care." Willow growled again. "Because if we do not find her alive and well you will very soon know what it means to be well and truly scared. She is my life! Take her away and I have nothing to lose." She knelt in front of the girl, smiling coldly at the student’s fear as her eyes burned with the rage of pure, justified fury. "You got that? Nothing. To. Lose."

Willow released the girl’s chin with one last glare before standing. She didn’t need to wait to hear the little bitch’s response. It didn’t matter if Millicent was scared or not. What the red haired Professor had told her was the absolute truth.

She swept from the room in a flurry of robes, an invisible wind made entirely of her power following behind her, fluttering the tapestries on the walls and rattling the pictures in their frames. The residents of the pictures ran for cover on other halls, word spreading quickly that there was a miniature hurricane coming their way, headed straight for the dungeons. The minutes it took for her to return to the dungeons, and Severus, took entirely too long for her tastes, the magic within her bubbling and burning, seeking retribution.

Vengeance would be hers.

The door to Severus’ room flung open, the wards ripped away as if by an unseen hand.

"She should be at Millicent’s house. Or somewhere nearby." Willow growled, grabbing the arm of her shocked lover. "Come on. We are going to get her."

"Willow?" Severus gasped, for indeed it was hard to recognize his babbling love in the creature he saw now. She was like a Queen of Darkness, black hair and eyes, pale veiny skin. He knew now what she meant when she had said that she had dabbled in the Dark Arts, and knew without a doubt that she would never truly be clean of that taint of that kind of magic. It came to her beck and call like a dog to its Master. She was a Mistress of the Darker side of the magical spectrum. If it weren’t for her very nature she would have been a Dark Witch. But that was never something he needed to fear, he knew. Her conscience was too great, her personality too placid. She would do what needed to be done and then send the power along its way.

At least, he hoped that was right.

"It’s me." She assured him, laying a gentle hand to his cheek. "But this is the me that must do what needs to be done. Are you coming with me, or not?"

Severus nodded. His own soul burned for the pain of those that had taken his daughter. He would settle for getting her back safe and alive, though. They ran through the castle, their urgency doubled by the fact that they knew Dumbledore would try to talk them out of it if he were to catch up with them. He would want them to wait until Aurors could go, let the ‘professionals’ do their job. Well to Hell with the ‘professionals’, his inner voice snarled. The Aurors were too slow and sometimes too inept to even allow them to take a chance with this. This was his daughter, after all.

They ran, the demons of their plight at their back, all the way to the edge of school grounds and into the forest. They weren’t safe there, not at night. But they consoled themselves knowing they wouldn’t be there long. The second they hit the edge of the wards Willow blinked out of his sight. He swore and stopped in his tracks, gathering his thoughts and apparating after her.

~*~

Sera could hear noises outside her door. It sounded like fighting. Someone was screaming.

She was so tired, though. So tired and hungry and thirsty.

"Mommy?" She whispered helplessly, her plaintive creel falling deaf on the walls. Her eyes were shut and she forced herself to think not about being hungry, but about being full. Like the last time Mommy had made her special soup, back before they left Sunnydale and Uncle Xander. The soup was Xander’s favorite. He liked to make words with the alphabet noodles. Sometimes they weren’t even real words, but he’d say they were and then make up a funny definition and even use it in a sentence! Her Uncle Xander was an amazing man.

She smiled sadly. If Uncle Xander knew what had happened to her he would hurt the evil snake man. He’d make him wish he’d never heard of Seraphina Rosenberg!

The shouting was growing louder, though she still couldn’t make out the words. There was magic in the air, though, she could feel it tingling on her skin, like butterflies giving kisses to arms. Someone was doing something big, like when Mommy got wicked mad and all pale and scary. She had only done it once or twice that Sera could remember; and it sort of made her a little scared. But she knew her mother would never hurt her. Never ever. Not like the evil, bad, scary snake man.

"SERA!!!"

The little girl’s head snapped up as far as she could allow with her body still bound to the bed. Someone had just called her. A man. Daddy?

"DADDY!!!" She screamed as loud as she could, the sound little more than a whimper across her parched lips.

"SERA!"

"MOMMY!" She tried again, this time in response to a scream that could have only been made by her mother. Tears were pouring down her face from the effort and the sheer horror of her situation. She tried to stay quiet, to see if they were coming. But it just didn’t seem like they had heard her. No one was moving outside her door now.

"Mommy? Daddy?" She sobbed, falling back onto her bed with a moan of pure agony. Her hands hurt, her throat hurt, her head hurt. Everything just hurt! And her mother and father were so close that she could hear them, but they couldn’t hear her because she was too tired. Tears that she was really too tired to be crying ran freely over her pale, dirty cheeks. She sniffled desperately, her little ears listening as best she could for any sign that her parents were closer to her, any sign that they had heard and were going to come unlock her.

Her hope was short-lived, though. There was more shouting, things she recognized as hexes being yelled and screamed by voices she didn’t recognize. She couldn’t hear her parents anymore, and a part of her wondered if she ever had. Her imagination did run wild, according to her mother. She could have just dreamed the entire thing. Her eyes closed, fatigue overwhelming her after such an emotional outburst.

And so she hear the muffled voice saying ‘alohomora’.

And she didn’t see the door knob turn.

But she heard what came next.

"Sera!"

The little girl didn’t even have a chance to open her eyes before she was freed of her bonds and lifted; engulfed in two sets of arms. One strong, one weak and shaking. Sera opened her eyes slowly, afraid that if she did it too fast the wonderful dream she was in would end.

"Momma? Daddy?" She whispered, tired and broken at last; feeling safe for the first time since that awful girl had tricked her into leaving the school.

"Yes, baby. We’re here."

"Are you hurt?"

Sera shook her head, smiling just a little. Trust daddy to jump right to the point of everything.

"They didn’t touch me. Though, I think the evil snake man wanted to." She shivered in her parents’ embrace.

"He won’t ever come near you again, darling." Willow cooed, holding her daughter for dear life. Voldemort wasn’t dead, but she had the distinct feeling he wouldn’t be coming back for a while, either. He had managed to escape, but only just barely. And if he ever got near Sera again she would personally rip him to shreds with her bare hands.

"No." Severus agreed. "Never again."

"Professor Rosenberg? Professor Snape?"

The two parents turned as one towards the door, their eyes brokering no doubt that they were displeased at being interrupted in their reunion. The pasty faced, rather young, Auror swallowed visibly at their stern glances.

"They want to have you tell your side of things, Ma’m, Sir."

"Can you not see that we are comforting our daughter?" Professor Snape growled, giving the young Auror a look that could have melted stone. The youth backed out of the doorway and there were quick footsteps leading away from the door, as though he had run as soon as he was out of sight.

"Can we go home now?" Sera whispered, toying with the buttons of her mother’s robe.

Willow looked at Severus, arching an eyebrow. Could they go home? That was a good question. With six dead Death Eaters to answer for, and one spectacular light show that should have been the death of Voldemort, they were definitely needed for questioning that would certainly last well into the early morning hours. She patted her daughter’s head, waiting for her lover’s inevitable response.

But he shocked her.

"Yes." Severus stated firmly. "We can go. If the Aurors need us they can come to Hogwarts. Dumbledore will keep them away until we are ready for them."

He spoke like a man with experience in those matters, and Willow smiled, nodding her head. He took Sera without a word, leading the two of them out of what remained of the Bulstrode’s home. They apparated back to Hogwarts without a word being spoken, all tired; but all reassured that they still had one another.

They were home.

~*~Part Twelve~*~

"Tell me again, from the beginning. . . what happened from the time you left the school with Severus Snape?"

Willow frowned at the Auror that was sitting across from her and then cast a pleading glance at Dumbledore. The Headmaster had done an admirable job in keeping the Ministry and its Aurors at bay until such time as she and Severus were ready to speak with them, but even he couldn’t predict that doing so would just make them that much eager to question them over and over and over again, with the same old questions, for hours on end.

"I’ve already told you five times." The red head snapped, shooting a look that should have been able to kill, or at the least petrify, at the young man. He just kept grinned, quill poised above his parchment, as if this time he might actually write down the account that he had neglected to so with the first five times.

"Very well. . ." She sighed. "Write it down this time because I refuse to tell it again."

~*~

Flashback

~*~

They apparated to the front of the Bulstrode’s ramshackle manor. Even though it was still mid-afternoon, the entire property seemed to have a dark cloud over it, and the front yard was shrouded in shadows that stirred with a life all their own Willow soon discovered. She shivered, taking her lover’s hand and running through the front yard, up the walk, and to the front door.

"They know we’re here." Severus murmured quietly, as she prepared to knock. "I felt the notification wards trip the moment we apparated in."

"Fuck." Willow sighed. She had been hoping, for once, for the element of surprise. Seeing as how that wasn’t to be the case, however, she was quite willing to just barge right in and start kicking ass. "Guess we do this the easy way."

One well-placed flick of her wand reduced the door to nothing more than a pile of splinters, waiting to be swept away by the next foul wind. She let her body fill with her that magic she had been holding at bay since the moment she began the interrogation of Millicent, feeling a giddy high rush over her as the Darkness filled her every pore.

Running feet on the marble floor and *poof* one Death Eater up in smoke.

She swept into the house, not caring whether or not Severus followed after her. He could if he wanted to, or he could leave it all to her. She didn’t care. Not when her daughter’s life was at stake. One way or the other she was going to find Sera, take her home, and spend all the time she could making her feel better.

"You go that way." She gestured to a hallway to the right. "I’ll go upstairs."

She moved with a purpose and a rage that knew no bounds, her robes sweeping the ground. They all fell before her, those that dared to oppose her in her mission of vengeance. Death Eaters. All of them. The silver masks were a dead giveaway; someone definitely needed to talk to them about the meaning of going ‘incognito’, she decided. Room after room she searched, destroying those that got in the way.

Until at last she stood before an unopened door that refused to budge with the simple unlocking charms she was trying to use. She frowned, moving on to the medium strength ones and then to the heavy-duty unlock-anything charms.

Yet nothing was working.

She growled, kicking at the door with her foot. It shuddered under the impact, but did not give way.

"Fine. Be that way!"

The same spell that worked wonders on the front door did the same thing here, splintering the door inward. A gasp from within and now she knew that the room was most definitely occupied. Stepping past the remains of the door, she found herself snarling with fury at the creature that was standing there, practically cowering behind yet another Death Eater. She froze the pawn of a man with a twitch of her wand, focusing all of her attention on the head honcho.

"You must still be pretty weak, hiding like this." She snorted, black eyes sparkling with energy. "But, guess what? I’m *not* weak."

"Avada –"

The words died in her lips. Where once the Dark Lord had stood there was nothing. He had used a portkey or apparated, or something.

~*~

End Flashback

~*~

"And then I went to the other side of the hallway, the one that I had skipped over at first, and met back up with Severus. We found Sera and went back here, to the school."

The Auror’s quill twitched over the paper, scribbling furiously those details that she had just given him for the last time. As far as hem and his memory, could tell; she hadn’t lied or changed one of the facts once. Hadn’t even tried to cover up the fact that she was single-handedly responsible for the death of at least half a dozen Death Eaters. Not that that mattered, the Ministry wasn’t about to condemn her for getting rid of their enemies. It was just unusual to find someone that would admit to murder, even when they knew they would face no reprimand or punishment.

"Is that all, Mister Thompson?" Dumbledore inquired, his eyes twinkling politely though his tone was stern. He didn’t have to say that the interview was over, his tone spoke volumes.

"Yes, I believe that will do for now. My colleague should be done with Professor Snape. Ah – there she is." He smiled at the pretty young Auror that had just entered Dumbledore’s office. "Did you get everything you needed?"

The female Auror smiled bitterly.

"As difficult as it was, yes." She rolled her eyes. "That man is impossible."

"Or perhaps he doesn’t deal well with fools." Willow snorted in a voice so low that only Dumbledore heard her. He chuckled softly. "If that is all, good day."

Without waiting for a response she practically ran from the office. Her shoes clicked on the stone floor of the hallways as she ran down, down, down to the dungeons. She took a calming breath, pushing open the door to the rooms she was now sharing with Severus. He was there already, holding Sera next to the fire, the girl already asleep.

"Nap time?" Willow inquired softly. She smiled at the look in his eyes, so tender and caring. Was the look for her or for the child in his arms? Could it be for both?

"She’s had a rough week." He replied as an explanation. "So have you. Do you want to rest?"

The witch shrugged.

"Not really tired. Not physically, anyway. Maybe mentally, a little. And emotionally I’m still a wreck. I don’t think I’ve had this hard of a time since before Sera was born."

Severus nodded.

"There’s something for you, there on the table." His voice was neutral, but his eyes were . . . scared. She almost questioned it, but he shook his head, gesturing for her to just look.

She looked where he had indicated, picking up the small velvet covered box. The lid swung open as she brushed her fingers over it, the reason for the fear in his eyes becoming clear.

A ring.

An engagement ring.

And, as if the sight of the ring wasn’t enough, he was speaking to her again.

"I realize that we haven’t known each other too long. But I do love you, Willow. As much as I am capable of loving anyone. And Sera is most definitely our daughter and deserves to have a mother and a father. Would you consider making things official?"

Willow laughed. The proposal was so Severus Snape, straight and to the point, hiding his feelings behind terse words.

"Make it official, huh?" She smirked, plucking the ring from the box and slipping it onto her finger where the diamond glittered quite beautifully.

"Does that answer your question?"

~*~Part Thirteen~*~

The entire school was abuzz with the news of the impending nuptials of Professor Willow Rosenberg to Professor Severus Snape. The rumors, of course, began to fly anew, with reasons as to why the beautiful Professor would think of marrying ‘greasy git Snape’. Some were amusing, others were just insulting.

But Willow was beyond such rumors.

She was floating on cloud nine.

~*~

The guests began to arrive the day before the wedding that was to be held in a remote corner of Hogwarts’ grounds. Willow waited anxiously at the little train station right outside of Hogsmeade, her hands clenching and unclenching nervously. Sera was back at the castle with her father and a seamswitch, having the last of the adjustments made to the delightful green dress she would be wearing as flower girl in the wedding. That left only Willow’s maid of honor and one bridesmaid left to procure dresses for.

And they were getting off the train right now.

The young witch held her breath as first one, then another of her friends stepped off the train, one by one, until they were all standing there, looking around. It was the first time she had seen them in months. And she allowed herself a moment to commit them to her memory once again before taking a calming breath and --

"Over here!" Willow called, waving frantically for them.

Buffy noticed her first and came flying forward, engulfing the red head in a mighty hug that left her breathless.

It was the other hugs, coming from Giles, Xander, and Anya; that left her completely breathless.

"Guys. . ." Willow breathed, gasping for air. "I missed you, too! But, breathing is of the necessary!"

The spontaneous group hug that had sprung up between Buffy, Xander and Willow broke apart; the red head breathing in deep gasps of air.

"Where’s the munchkin?" Anya queried, glancing about curiously. "You didn’t lose her again, did you?"

"ANYA!" Xander cried, covering his eyes in embarrassment.

"No, An. I didn’t lose her." Willow giggled, thoroughly enjoying the bluntness she had so missed. "She’s back at the school, with her father."

Buffy grinned, slinging an arm around Willow’s waist and leading her off towards the carriages that were so obviously waiting for them.

"So. . . is he still a hottie? You haven’t said much in your owl-thingies. The last letter was sort of short you know. ‘Marrying Sera’s daddy. Need you here on the 15^th. Owl with travel details to follow. Love Willow.’" The blonde mimicked the wording of Willow’s letter, right down to the clipped tone of the brusqueness of it all, perfectly; giving her friend a saucy smirk.

"He’s. . . Sev." Willow shrugged, that ‘I’m in love’ smile on her face. "He looks the same now as I remembered him, though for a little while he wore this weird glamour thing that kept the students from seeing how devilishly handsome he really was. Part of that whole spy business. He’s a hottie as much as he was back on that night. . ."

"Look at that grin, Xander. Willow’s thinking of orgasms." Anya whispered, a touch too loudly, to her companion.

He groaned as Willow and Buffy shot him amused looks. Trust Anya to say what no one else would and think that it was all quite proper.

"You love him, right?" This was from Xander, still blushing from Anya’s comment.

"Of course, Xan. I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t. I love him. Sera loves him. He’s so good to her. . ."

"And he’s good for you, too." Giles murmured. "I can see that already. You look much happier than you were when you left. Very much more. . . centered. Grounded, perhaps."

"Yes, well. . ." Willow smiled brightly, shrugging and gesturing for everyone to get in the carriages. "What can I say? He’s ‘the one’."

~*~

"Snape is getting married. Tonight. It just goes against all laws of nature."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, *I* think its romantic. And Professor Rosenberg is even allowing the students to come."

Ron shook his head.

"You, Lavender and Parvati going, I take it?"

The brunette smirked and sped up to walk past him, throwing a grin over her shoulder.

"No. Harry already agreed to go with me."

Ron stopped, silently cursing his own inaction as the girl of his dreams wandered off to the library. He would be going to the wedding tonight, after all.

"Bloody hell."

~*~

The light of the full moon shone down, bathing the normally green grass of this, far corner, of the Hogwarts’ grounds in a silver hue. This was the sole light apart from the candles that lined the aisle between the chairs, floating in mid-air through the aid of magic.

The guests were seated, and the subtle scent of vanilla roses filled the air, a favorite of the bride.

The students sat in the back, Hermione seated firmly between Harry and a skulking Ron. Not that she appeared to notice the scowl on the face of her red haired companion; she was too enthralled by the entire ceremony to care about anyone except what was to happen.

Snape was at the front already, with Professor Flitwick standing as his best man and witness, Xander as a groomsman; and there were whispers among the female students that he had never looked so handsome.

Or so alive.

Dumbledore was at the front, as well, dressed impeccably in robes of gold and red. He rocked back and forth on his feet, beaming bright smiles at anyone and everyone that caught his eye.

And then the music began, hauntingly sweet, played by instruments that were charmed to perfection. Their delicate melody floated through the air by the grace of the same magic that gave them life, falling on the ears of all listening with the same gentle inflection.

Sera came first, spreading down rose petals on the carpeting of the aisle. Blood red on white, a sharp contrast in the moonlight. She was smiling; the beatific smile of a child caught up in the midst of things that she only half-understands but knows to be good. This was the joining of her mommy with her daddy, after all. And that was something she wanted more than anything in the world. To have a whole, complete family for the first time in her life.

She reached the front, standing opposite her father, just as her mother had told her to; and turned to face the way she had come, watching as the others stepped out of the carriage, one by one.

First Anya, the Buffy, the two walking nearly side by side; resplendent in their dresses of pale forest green. They glowed, smiling gloriously at the guests as they passed, their eyes focused on the front, the altar, and the end of their task in this matter.

A special song began then, a mix of both the wizarding world’s wedding hymns and the traditional Muggle Wedding March. It was poignant in its beauty, simple in its elegance; and heralded the arrival of the bride.

Giles was the first out of the carriage, dressed in robes the color of the night sky. He held out his arm, and the entire body of assembled guests drew in their breaths. None but the two women at the front and the child, and one lucky seamswitch, had seen Willow’s dress.

And none were prepared for its beauty.

The dress was white, though how it could be called that, when the color was so pure, so breathtaking, that it almost needed its own definition. It was the color of the fresh snow; the purity of a fluffy cloud. And it glowed from within like the light from the stars. The bodice was low cut, with a crisscrossing of woven braided silk over her chest, meeting in a collar of pearls and enchanted roses that would never wilt or fade. Her veil did not cover her face, but instead trailed backwards, over her flame red hair, the delicate lacework flowing and moving about, the flowers woven within it blooming and sparkling under the weight of enchantments so great that the seamswitch had spent nearly a week upon them alone.

Her bouquet was simple, merely a spray of the vanilla roses she cherished so much, and a wisp of some little green hued flowers the witch at the florist had promised would look marvelous considering the colors Willow and her betrothed had chosen for their wedding.

And so they did.

She placed her arm in Giles’, allowing the man to lead her as her own father should have, down the aisle. The smile on her face was radiant, her eyes locked with those of her husband-to-be. This was the first time he had seen the dress, too. And his wonder at it was enough to make her heart skip even more beats than it already had.

Each step, in time to the ethereal music, seemed to take a lifetime as she slowly neared her lifemate, her love.

She reached him a moment before she was sure her heart would burst.

What were those words that were spoken, the ones that made it all official. If you asked her to repeat it not even ten minutes later, she would not have been able to. Nor could she remember in years to come. The ability to say by rote that which had just been said was her only saving grace, seeing as how she was lost in Severus’ eyes from the moment Giles handed her to the dark haired Potions Master. She could hear Dumbledore, her heart registering the words that her brain could not possibly comprehend.

She spoke her part. Severus spoke his. The words hardly mattered to her or him; they were a formality to what they had already sworn to each other in their hearts.

There was a sparkle. She was holding Severus’ hand and the light of their binding was official and binding, the glow expanding from their enjoined hands to surround them in a sphere of pure loving light. It faded, almost as quickly as it came, and they were left, his lips slowly lowering to hers as the guests cheered.

Even the students cheered, those that hated her now-husband, and those that didn’t like her. One and all, they were happy.

And so was she.

And so was he.

And she could hear Sera, right there behind her, talking to Buffy, using her usual childish commentary to sum up everything into four little words:

"Ew! Make them stop!"

~*~The End~*~