Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Severus Snape, or any of the other canon characters. Emmalee-Grace and a few others, however, are figments that have managed to escape from the confines of my imagination.

Chapter Twenty-Four: A Wyvern's Perspective

With no class and no detention to oversee, he patrolled the corridors. He would have much rather been down at the Quidditch pitch, watching Harry play. Especially after that incident with the Bludger and that idiot Lockhart. But they were playing Hufflepuff, and so he had no excuse. With Slytherin's monster on the loose, whatever it could be, every teacher was on their guard to the slightest mishap. Well, except for Lockhart. Why in the world had Dumbledore hired that fool? What, in the name of Merlin, had he been thinking? Surely, even with the curse or jinx or whatever it was, he could have taken DADA for the year, returning to Potions. That would have been better. Probably easier to find a temporary Potions professor than to find a new DADA professor. Maybe he could ask Slughorn to come back for a year?

He turned the corner, finding himself down the corridor from Moaning Myrtle's lavatory. Suddenly, said ghost came flying out, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"An attack! An attack in my lavatory!"

Sev raced down the corridor, towards the wailing ghost. When he turned into the washroom, he saw the student, lying on her back on the floor, a look of shock on her familiar face.

"Emmalee-Grace!"

Sev jerked awake, his dark eyes wide. He struggled to catch his breath. Even now, a full year later, he was still reliving that afternoon. At least it was better than last summer, and especially the time between her attack and her recovery. Then, he'd had dreams he hadn't found her Petrified. Instead, he'd found her dead.

He thought, by now, he'd be used to disturbing dreams. After all, he still occasionally relived finding James and Lily at Godric's Hollow, after Black and Hagrid had left. To see his two best friends lying dead like that, well, it had been a good three years before he'd gotten a good night's sleep, he was sure. And after his visit to Privet Drive to collect Harry? At least two months before he could assure his subconscious that Harry was safe.

And he still had occasional nightmares about the end of their first year, seeing both of them in the Hospital Wing after they went after the Stone. At least he hadn't seen the state Harry had been in, after escaping the Chamber and killing the basilisk. Though, imaginings of those events plagued his nights, when he wasn't rediscovering Emmalee-Grace in that lavatory. He was starting to think he'd never get another good night's sleep, especially as long as they were in his charge.

He shoved a hand through his hair, pushing it back out of his face.

"A glass of water, Master Sev?" Aconite inquired, already next to the bed, a glass in his hand.

"Thank you, Aconite," Sev took the offered drink, sipping slowly as his heartbeat steadied. "What time is it?"

"A little past dawn. I haven't yet checked the clock," replied the house-elf.

Sev waved his hand, dismissing the elf. "No, that's fine. That's close enough."

He rose, knowing sleep would not return. Instead, he dressed and walked into his potions lab.

Various vials covered the shelves, each carefully labeled, most of them in Aconite's patient hand. There were a scattered handful that bore Harry's writing, but most of the ones he'd labeled were emptied now. On the other side of the room, there were jars upon jars of potions ingredients, bags of various herbs, and, of course, a selection of stirring rods, measuring spoons, and the rest of his tools. Cauldrons hung on hooks from the ceiling, categorized by metal and by size. He bypassed all of it, heading for the bubbling cauldron on the work table.

Carefully, he removed the Stasis Charm he'd placed on it the night before, releasing it from its time-frozen state. He stirred it, adding three drops of a blood-red liquid, the juice of a Sunset Berry, and a few dried and crushed leaves of wolfsbane. Sunset Berries weren't commonly found, anymore. Most apothecaries didn't even know the berries existed. However, generations of Mageheart descendants had kept the Manor's gardens and greenhouses, and all of the various herbs and other plants alive and growing.

Taking a small spoon, he lifted out only a little of the potion. He carried the spoon carefully over to a small petri dish, containing a dark grey-and-silver swirled, cloudy substance, like a pool of melted silver. Slowly, he poured the potion into the dish. He waited, watching the mixture, but there was no change.

"Serum 769, unsuccessful," he muttered, crossing back over to the worktable. He lifted the leather-bound journal from its position next to the cauldron, marking the handwritten potion with an 'F'.

"I knew this potion would be tricky, but not this tricky." Sev flipped to a new page. "Seventeen years of research, ten years of experimentation, and still no closer to a cure." He slammed the journal shut, turning away from the worktable.

He walked back into his bedroom. The early morning light was pouring through the now open window, bringing with it the chill and the early morning fog. He stepped over to the window, taking a deep breath, trying to clear his head. Sighing, he stepped away, back to the stand he kept by his bed.

A handful of photos rested there. Harry sat, surrounded by wrapping paper, Michael kneeling beside him, at Harry's ninth birthday party. Emmalee-Grace stood beside Aconite, working on a stew for supper, last summer. Both of his charges flew across the frame, chasing each other around the Mageheart Quidditch pitch. James waved, one arm wrapped around Lily's shoulders, at their wedding. He reached past them, to lift out the one he kept hidden in the back.

Red hair fell around a laughing face. Her eyes were closed and one slender hand was covering her mouth as she fought to stop laughing. She wore a Hogwarts uniform, displaying her undone Gryffindor tie. Her other hand clutched a copy of Advanced Potion-Making.

He gave the photo a soft, sad smile, before he returned it to its place. "I could really use your help figuring this out, Lady Night."

Shrugging out of his black word robe, he began making sure everything would be ready for the afternoon's lessons. Both of them were ready to attempt their first Animagus transformations that day.

Lunch was a quiet affair. It normally was, unless Harry had received a letter from Sirius Black. Even Sev had been amused by the large, tropical birds that had delivered the letters. He knew, despite his cheerful tone, Harry was still worried about his godfather. It was hard not to be, what with the idiots at the Ministry refusing to listen. And Emmalee-Grace, she'd barely spoken at all, these past few weeks. Then again, it was going on four years now, and still no word of her mother. He hated to admit it, but he was beginning to think they never would find her.

Aconite walked in, carrying the day's mail, a letter from Ron for Harry, a letter from Hermione for Emmalee-Grace, the usual pile of potions-related mail for hi. But flipping through everything, he came upon a small envelope, addressed to Virgil Netherson. Perhaps, finally, some news.

He flipped the envelope over, sliding a finger under the flap to open it. However, it was not news about Emmalee-Grace's mother. It was, though, the response he'd been waiting for from someone else.

Virgil,

I can't tell you how thrilled I was to receive your invitation. I would only be too glad to meet you in London on the first of August. I can only hope you are correct, and Harry will be equally pleased to see me. I'll meet you at King's Cross that morning. Until then,

Remus Lupin

Sev gave a slight smile. His surprise for Harry's birthday would be waiting. Perhaps Remus could help. After all, Remus had to be just as worried as Harry about Black. He tucked the letter back into the stack, ignoring the curious looks from his young wards. They'd find out soon enough.

After lunch, he escorted both of them up to a small room off the library, the room where most of the practical lessons had taken place.

"Alright, Harry, you're up first," called Sev, motioning the boy to the center of the room.

Harry nodded, walking to the indicated position. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Sev watched as his brow furrowed and his hands clenched. Then, suddenly, 'pop!' Harry was gone, replaced by a small black cat with emerald green eyes and a white lightning bolt in the middle of its forehead.

"Excellent! Now, change back."

The cat nodded. It didn't take nearly as long before Harry was again standing in the middle of the room.

"Well done. It will get even easier with more practice," applauded the Potions Master. "Emmalee-Grace, your turn."

Emmalee-Grace wasted no time. No sooner had she taken a deep breath and closed her eyes, she was gone, and a raven was in her place. Turning back, however, was a different story. It took her several tries before she finally managed to revert to her human self.

"Not to worry, little Phoenix. We all have difficulties with our forms at some point in time. But, very well done, both of you. Now, with only a few weeks left before you go to the Quidditch World Cup, I don't think we'll try for second forms this summer. Keep practicing your first forms. Get comfortable in them and we'll try for the others next summer. For the rest of the afternoon, let us turn our attention to Mageheart history."

"Just as long as it's not like sitting through Binns's classes," muttered Harry.

"I heard that," retorted Sev, with a grin. "And don't worry. It's not. Now, we begin in the days before the founding of Hogwarts, before formal wizarding education began. Leif Mageheart was the youngest of three sons…"

Sev found himself looking forward to the hours after dinner. Evenings found all three of them in what he and James had long ago dubbed the "Hogwarts Common Room." It was decorated in reds, gold, greens, silvers, blues, bronzes, yellows, and black. Gryffindor's lion roared over the fireplace, while Slytherin's serpents supported the torches alongside Ravenclaw's eagles. Hufflepuff's badgers formed the bases for many of the pieces of furniture.

Emmalee-Grace curled up in one of the cushy, dark blue armchairs, a thick volume of ancient potions recipes resting on her knees. Occasionally, she had to shove her glasses back up as they slid down her nose. Her other hand would catch at her hair, twirling it around her fingers.

Harry, on the other hand. Sprawled himself out on the floor, in front of the fireplace. Most nights, he toyed around with his practice Snitch. Tonight, however, he had grabbed one of the older Defense Against the Dark Arts texts.

Usually, Sev read the Evening Prophet or one of his various Potions newsletters. He'd give those to Emmalee-Grace when he finished. Tonight, he pretended to read, instead keeping an eye on both of his charges. He knew this would be what he missed the most, when the end of August came. These quiet, peaceful evenings meant more to him than he would ever admit.

Things weren't perfect. He'd be the first to admit that, but these evenings got pretty close.

Finally, he lowered the Evening Prophet. "I'm surprised no one's asked me yet what we're doing tomorrow."

Both of them turned to stare at him.

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded.

"Well," explained Sev, "tomorrow is August 1st."

Emmalee-Grace's eyes widened. "Already?"

Their guardian nodded. "I thought, perhaps, a break from Mageheart Manor? A trip to London? Especially to Diagon Alley? And I'll let you both pick your presents this year."

"Really?" Before Sev could answer, there was a cloud of black hair in his face and arms around his shoulders, while Harry collected the potions tome Emmalee-Grace had flung aside.

"A trip to London sounds great," added his older charge, still chuckling over his foster cousin's reaction.

"Well, we'd better get ready for bed. We'll want an early start. It does take several hours to get to London," replied Sev, once Emmalee-Grace had released him. "I'll have Wince and Coppertop wake you. And we'll have breakfast on the train."

As the sun crept over the horizon, the three of them made their way back down to the small train station on the Mageheart property. Neither of his charges seemed very awake. In fact, no sooner had she curled up on the seat, Emmalee-Grace was fast asleep. Harry, however, turned and stared out the window, a pensive look on his face.

"Is it just me or has Emmalee-Grace been extremely quiet this summer?" He finally asked. "Or, when she isn't quiet, it's almost like she's trying too hard to be happy?"

"I've noticed," sighed their guardian.

"Have you considered asking Sources about how to find her mum?"

Sev shook his head. "You have to be very careful in asking Sources questions. Sometimes, it doesn't give you the answer you want. You have to phrase it very carefully, in situations like asking where her mother is. Unfortunately, I don't have all the information I need in order to make that query. But that isn't what's troubling you this morning, Harry."

"I wrote Sirius about it. I figured he might know more, and it doesn't hurt to get a couple of opinions," he said, reluctantly. "I had a very odd dream last night, and my scar hurt when I woke up. That hasn't happened before."

"What was the dream?"

Slowly, hesitantly, Harry explained about seeing the Riddle House, Wormtail, Voldemort, and the man called Frank Bryce.

"And the thing in the chair, I knew it was Voldemort, but still, it was beyond disgusting, barely even human," he concluded.

Sev frowned. "I've never heard of anything like this. Though it sounds as if a connection between you and the Dark Lord exists, one that is anchored by your scar. Hence why it pained you. Starting tomorrow, we're going to add another lesson, one I think is far more important than the elemental magics of the Magehearts. You're going to start learning Occlumency."

"Occu-what?" Harry demanded.

"Occlumency. It is the art of shielding your mind, guarding your thoughts against the mental intrusions of other people."

"So, it's making it so people can't read my mind?"

"In simplest terms, yes. Most of those who practice Legilimency, the opposite of Occlumency, don't like the term 'reading minds.' After all, the mind is not like a book, to simply be opened and read. I don't know if learning Occlumency is the perfect solution. As I said, I've never heard of this before, but we're going to give it a shot."

His ward nodded. "I really don't want him inside my head, if we can help it. I don't want to be inside his, either, if it comes to that."

"Harry, I'm glad you trusted me enough to tell me."

"Even if, technically, I told Sirius first?"

"Even if you told Sirius first. It's a good feeling, knowing you have people you can trust."

He woke Emmalee-Grace back up a few minutes later, when Aconite brought their breakfast. It greatly surprised Sev when Harry turned and recounted the events of the dream to Emmalee-Grace, as well as part of the discussion they'd shared, earlier.

"I figure you might as well know. I'll probably need your help if it happens again, either at the World Cup or at Hogwarts," he explained.

She nodded. "I understand. Besides, this Occlumency you're going to teach Harry, it sounds fascinating. Would you mind teaching me, too? That way, I could help, if Harry needs it."

"I would be glad to teach both of you. However, we'll get started tomorrow. There's a few books in the Mageheart library that might help, too," he replied.

As the train slowed to enter Platform Four and 5/6, Sev rose and replaced his guise of Virgil Netherson.

"Are we ready?" Virgil demanded.

Both of them nodded.

He shepherded them off the train and into King's Cross, once more. A grin crossed his face as Harry came to a stop, spotting Remus Lupin standing near Platform 5.

"Good day, Remus! Glad you could make it," laughed Virgil.

Harry looked up at his guardian. "You invited him?"

"I figured you'd like to see him, again. One more reason to come to London."

Remus walked over, waving. "Hello, and a slightly belated Happy Birthday, Harry."

"That's alright. We celebrate today, anyway. Emmalee-Grace's birthday is tomorrow," replied the boy, shrugging, though his cheeks had turned a little pink.

Virgil spent most of the day hanging back, watching his charges and their favorite professor walk around Diagon Alley. He carried the bag of Drooble's they'd picked up for Emmalee-Grace and the other of Chocolate Frogs for Harry. They'd stopped at Fortescues's for lunch and desert. He'd waved off Remus's objections about picking up his lunch, as well, claiming he'd invited him, so of course, he'd pay.

There'd been a few mundane things, like new school robes for both Harry and Emmalee-Grace, as well as the dress robes they might well need, and he had a feeling they would. He hadn't explained why. After all, how would Virgil Netherson know the Triwizard Tournament was coming to Hogwarts?

They'd stopped into Quality Quidditch Supplies, so Harry could restock his Broomstick Servicing Kit. He'd also noticed Emmalee-Grace wistfully eyeing the brooms. She hadn't come straight out and asked for one, but he could tell. He made a mental note to get her one, eventually. He'd occasionally watched the two of them on the Mageheart Quidditch pitch, with Harry letting Emmalee-Grace fly on his Firebolt, while he took a turn on one of the ancient brooms from the broom shed. She really was a good flyer. Perhaps for Christmas, he'd get her a Nimbus 2000. Yes, the 2001 was faster, but she'd object on principle to owning the same broom as Draco Malfoy, and he really didn't figure she'd need anything as fast as the Firebolt.

He sighed as he thought of his godson. He hadn't seen the boy as often, since Harry had come to live with him, but that had nothing at all to do with it. The last time Draco had come to Spinner's End, he'd ignored the rule about staying out of Sev's potions lab, and he'd nearly blown them all up. After that, Narcissa refused to allow Draco to visit, and Sev never felt comfortable at Malfoy Manor. He'd never particularly cared for Lucius, but he had understood Narcissa, much as he had understood Regulus Black, who had been a year beneath him. Neither of them were truly Slytherins, as most people thought of them, but they weren't brave enough to defy their families like their older siblings, Andromeda and Sirius. Then, again, he suspected a lot of that came down to fearing Bellatrix.

During 7th year, Narcissa had even admitted, if her parents hadn't arranged it, she never would have married Lucius Malfoy. Especially with the differences in their ages.

Reluctantly, he pulled himself away from reminiscing. The four of them turned towards the Leaky Cauldron for dinner.

"So, you haven't really said what you're doing now, Professor Lupin," observed Emmalee-Grace.

The former professor smiled. "It's alright if you both call me Remus. After all, I am no longer your professor. I'm actually working part-time at a small Muggle bookstore for now. They're making it harder and harder for werewolves to find employment in the wizarding world. Thankfully, it's still difficult for them to prevent us working in the Muggle world."

"For now," added Virgil, scornfully.

"For now," agreed Remus. "But, it's still a job. And it's not as bad as it was twelve, thirteen years ago, when Voldemort was in power, and the years immediately following his fall."

"Really?" Harry demanded.

"Oh, yes. Back then, everyone figured all the werewolves were working for Voldemort, and we couldn't be trusted. For some people, that impression never left. It doesn't help that, until the invention of the Wolfsbane Potion, we couldn't control ourselves during the full moon," he explained. "Well, short of locking ourselves up and praying no one came in until the moon set."

Virgil shook his head. "And so, of course, the rest of the month, you must be just as dangerous. Well, there are some, but they would be dangerous even if they weren't werewolves. People worried after your godfather escaped," he nodded to Harry, "I'd be more afraid if someone else got out of Azkaban. Well, two someone else's. They're both equally insane."

Emmalee-Grace gave him a puzzled look.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, for one" supplied Virgil. "She's tortured people into insanity. As for the other…" He seemed to be avoiding looking at Remus.

The werewolf, however, seemed to understand. "Fenrir Greyback." He spat out the name as if it were poison. "The worst werewolf in the world. He gives us all a bad name, becoming what people fear. He'd position himself to attack children during the full moon. Including me."

Emmalee-Grace seemed to pale. Harry reached out and placed a hand on his former professor's shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault, Remus," he stated.

"No," he acknowledged. "He did it because of my father. He managed to do something to offend Greybackc, and so I became his target."

"The son paying for the sins of the father," sighed Emmalee-Grace, sending a look over at Harry.

When the three of them finally returned to King's Cross, Harry had received a promise from Remus that he would write more often, letting Harry know stories he remembered about Lily and James and their years at Hogwarts and the few short years afterward. Harry'd gotten several stories from Sev, but he still would like to hear them from someone else's point of view. And he was sure there were things Remus knew that Sev didn't.

Only once they were through the barrier did Sev release his disguise and resume his normal appearance.

"Only a few more weeks until the World Cup," cheered Harry, as they boarded the train to get back to Mageheart Manor.

Hey, what do you know? Finally, a new chapter of Harry Potter and the Secret Past!

However, if you read the A/N at the end of the last chapter, I have to apologize. I lied. We were supposed to go to the World Cup this chapter, and we didn't. Instead, I gave you a little filler from Sev's point of view. We don't see enough of this, do we? Also, I tried to explain why Sev hasn't just gone down and asked Sources about Emmalee-Grace's mother. I was actually surprised no one asked me why he hadn't. Also, we get an appearance by my other favorite professor, the one and only Remus Lupin! I couldn't resist throwing him in. After all, we don't really get to see him again until Fifth year in the books, so I had to bring him back. Now, hopefully the next chapter does get to the World Cup and doesn't take nearly as long to get put up! I just have a few characters who aren't cooperating. Still, I'm hoping to get that new chapter done soon. Hope this tides you over until then!

Also, for the purpose of this story, Narcissa is the youngest of the three Black sisters, and she graduated the same year as Sev, James, Lily, Remus, and everybody else. Also, I hope you like how I had Sev viewing her, though I'm curious as to what you think.

Just a couple of questions to ponder while you wait. What was he working on at the beginning of the chapter, in his potions lab? And who's this Lady Night?