Severus stepped through the concealed door that separated his living chambers from his office and immediately any semblance of good will towards his fellow men that he might otherwise have feigned was dashed to smithereens.

Owls were everywhere. They rested on every surface, and so did their regurgitated meals and their droppings.

Severus grimaced as one particularly obnoxious specimen twittered around his head like a demented snitch, and grabbed its missive from its talons. He knew the bird's owner of old.

Doubtless, the harridan had instigated this whole mess in the first place. Whatever her complaint, so went the whining of half the parents in the school.

In mere seconds he had devoured the content of the letter. He swept out into the corridors of Hogwarts, with it still clutched in his hand and a parliament of owls in pursuit.

---

"Professor Lovegood!" Severus railed as he threw open the door to a study lined with pen and ink drawings of dragons and other beasts which the Muggle world regarded as mythical. Severus vaguely remembered the art had been there since before Kettleburn had retired. The door opposite was ajar, and he glided into Lovegood's living room where he was confronted with a new horror.

The witch had desecrated the ancient building. Instead of bare stone, the room was now bedecked to chest height in pine panelling. Not even a hardwood, but light, bright pine. That was not the most heinous transgression, however. The walls above the panelling had been plastered, and the vandal was in the process of adding a mural. Against a sky at dawn or dusk, she had outlined the oversized heads and shoulders of several witches and wizards, and behind and above each, converging toward the centre of the ceiling, a bevy of corresponding Patronuses.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing, Professor Lovegood?" the headmaster bellowed as the woman slipped gracefully down from the scaffolding where she'd been perched.

She rolled her eyes as her pet Kneazle bounced from chair seat to chair back to launch itself at a bird twice its size. "I know, Severus. I should just levitate the pencil and do it that way or levitate myself, but it's easier when I can just concentrate on the drawing. I don't have a class until after morning break, so I thought I would work on it for a bit."

There was a loud patter, as if a monsoon rain had suddenly hit a tin roof, as dozens of letters were dropped to the floor and their carriers swooped from the room via every available exit to escape the large-eared, lion-tailed, Dalmatian-spotted predator.

"I don't care how you're defacing the building, just that you are!"

"Oh, the castle doesn't mind," she assured him. "If it did, it wouldn't change the background to match the time of day." She opened the room's curtains to show the same blue sky and orange tinged clouds outside her window. "I went to bed on Tuesday, and it was just blue and cloudy like I painted it. Then, yesterday morning it was like this, and late last night, it got dark. Isn't that amazing?"

Gorge rose in Severus's throat, as if a bottle of Skelegro was trying to escape his stomach, but he knew better than to fight the castle. "Wonderful, Professor Lovegood, but that is not why I am here... And will you call this damn beast off?" He nudged at her Kneazle with a foot, trying to stop it rubbing hairs onto his ankles.

"Rorschach," Lovegood cooed, bending and rubbing thumb and two fingers together until it left Severus alone and stroking it a couple of times before it curled up on the hearth rug.

"Professor Lovegood, I am here because it has been brought to the attention of one of our most influential school board members, and, via Madam Weasley, to her entire coven of harpies, with the result you see before you, that you have apparently been teaching your pupils about your Magizoological fancies as if they actually exist."

"Wow!"

"I can assure you that was not my reaction when I found my office looking more like the owlery."

Lovegood smiled and shook her head indulgently. "I meant, wow, you said that whole run-on sentence without taking a breath. Hermione's always refused to see sense about magical creatures. I wouldn't worry about it."

Severus inhaled through his nose and tossed his head back. "I do worry about it. I worry about it greatly, and so should you. Madam Weasley has extensive influence with the board of governors, and the board is responsible for approving our remuneration packages and our spending on teaching materials; they put a roof over our collective heads, all on the understanding that we provide our charges with the best possible education. That education does not include Blibbering Humdingers, Heliopaths, Aquavirius Maggots, Nargles or Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."

Lovegood tilted her head on one side as she answered him, watching him with huge silver eyes that never seemed to blink. "It should."

"No, Professor Lovegood, it should not. I will not have this school turned into a byword for delusion and insanity. Your subject is Care of Magical Creatures, not mythical ones."

The woman settled herself into an armchair as if she hadn't a single care. "Tell me, Severus, have you ever seen a Lethifold?"

Severus scowled at the tousle-headed witch in her paint-smeared dungarees. "No, but as they are only found in tropical climates, that can hardly be a huge surprise."

"But you accept that they exist even though you've never actually see one?" she continued in a serene sing-song. "Not even a photograph of one?"

Severus glared back down at his feet where the Kneazle was once more circling. "We both know that reported sightings are rare because few who encounter a Lethifold survive to tell the tale," he argued with just a hint of resignation.

"But you accept that they exist, and you expect any OWL standard student to be able to describe them and know how to repel them," Lovegood answered.

"Yes, but—"

"And did you know that in the last decade there have been more reported sightings of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks than there have ever been sightings of Lethifolds?" Lovegood continued.

"No, Professor Lovegood, I didn't, and I really don't care," Severus explained, using forbearance he wouldn't have believed he had. "Lethifolds are required knowledge for OWLs. Blibbering Humdingers are not."

Lovegood gave a patient sigh. "I know. I have written several times to Madam Marchbanks to try to get them to widen the scope of the syllabus, but she never replies."

"This is really very simple. You are one month into your one-year probationary period. If you wish your employment to continue, you will henceforth teach only about those creatures that Newt Scamander has verified."

"You know, Severus, you are every bit as closed-minded and hidebound as Hermione is. You can't prove Nargles and Snorkacks and Humdingers don't exist."

"More importantly, you can't prove that they do."

Lovegood smiled in that stubbornly oblivious way she had. "And if I could? Say I were to prove to you that Snorkacks are real?"

"Professor Lovegood, if you prove Snorkacks are real, and the proof has to meet my standards not yours, I will not only let you teach the students about whichever creatures you choose, I will petition Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden on your behalf to have them added to the curriculum."

"Oh good! We'll leave when the students have gone home for Christmas," Lovegood informed Severus. "We should allow a week, just to be on the safe side."

Severus arched an eyebrow. Christmas was months away. Hermione Weasley née Granger was a pain in the arse now. Christmas alone with Lovegood? It had to be marginally better than spending it with all the old coots and pre-pubescent blockheads who would be at Hogwarts. "You have a deal, Professor Lovegood, and until then you will stick to the curriculum."

"Was there anything else, Severus?" Lovegood asked, observing as Severus seemed once more to be drawn to the nascent artwork.

"What? No... no."

She got up, closing the distance between them, and peered to the left and then to the right of his head. "You're sure a Wrackspurt didn't get you?"

"No, Professor Lovegood," Severus answered rather more brusquely. "If such a thing should ever come to pass, rest assured I shall rush to you with the news," Severus replied.

"Should I dispose of the letters, then?"

"No, I suppose I must actually read them and reply to them." With a swish and a flick, the letters arced upward and arranged themselves into a neat, if thick, stack in Severus's hand. He turned to go, but he paused with his hand on the door handle. "She was a remarkable witch... Your mother. Truly gifted."

"She was."

Severus looked back over his shoulder. "Though what she did to deserve to be forced to share a wall with Thomas, Longbottom, the Weasleys and the Potters, I have no idea."

Lovegood's lips pursed, not in annoyance but as if she was trying not to smirk. "They're important to me, just like Filius and Mr Ollivander and my father."

"And the blank space over the fireplace? I assume you intend to take pride of place?"

"That's silly," Lovegood answered. "Why would I want a painting of me?"

Severus took stock once more of the faces on display, trying to ascertain who might conceivably be missing. "Dumbledore?"

Lovegood grimaced.

"I can think of no other obvious candidate," he admitted.

Lovegood laughed out loud. "That space is reserved for a very complex character." She made her way to an escritoire in one corner and withdrew a sketch pad from one of the drawers, flicking through the pages before she passed it over to her companion. "His physical likeness is easily caught, but his essence is harder to capture."

Severus stared at the book, completely aghast. "This is me!"

Lovegood crinkled her nose and laughed again. "I had to work from newspaper clippings. You aren't comfortable with cameras. All the pictures make you look intimidating. It's a side of you, but it isn't who you are."

"Why in blue blazes would you want to put me on your wall?" he demanded. "And what makes you think I would let you?"

"I'm not aware of anything you could do to stop me, but if it makes you feel better, we could add that to the wager?" Her eyebrows lifted, issuing an unspoken challenge. "Until you admit that Snorkacks are real, I won't paint you. In return, once I prove they exist, perhaps you would let me sketch you looking less cranky."

"You can sketch me to your heart's content, Professor Lovegood," Severus agreed with a curt nod of goodbye. "Once I have your proof."

---

And autumn moved toward winter...

---

Severus knew that post-curfew corridor patrol was a duty the majority of Hogwarts' recent heads had delegated to other staff members. He, however, was significantly younger than Minerva, Dumbledore and Dippet had been, and a stroll, or even a stalk, around the castle not only allowed him to keep a strict eye on the school's worst recidivists, but allowed him to stretch tired muscles at the end of the day. His steps quickened as he saw the flickering golden glow coming from around the corner ahead. Just let it be one of those cursed Weasleys...

He turned the corner and the breath of righteous indignation which he had sucked in ready for the malevolent whisper of the culprit's surname deflated instantly. He stared at the open doorway and the light of a hundred candles that spilled through it with disappointment.

He knocked lightly on the door before he pushed it open further and stepped inside. "Professor Lovegood?" he said, raising his voice just enough to make himself heard over her remarkably tuneful humming.

She seemed oblivious, adding streaks of reflected light to Potter's scruffy hair, which seemed to lift the flat colour from two dimensions into three.

He was just about to clear his throat when, without lifting her gaze from her work, she spoke, albeit in a distracted and otherworldly tone. "Just a minute, Severus. I need to do this before the base colour dries." She added a few more carefully placed strokes.

"I merely wondered if perhaps something was amiss when your door was wide open. If everything is as it should be, I'll be on my way," Severus remarked, though he found something hypnotic in watching the image come to life. "You should really be careful about leaving your door open like that. Those hooligans we call students could walk off with everything you own."

Lovegood tucked her brush behind her ear and slipped from her platform like a fairy descending from a flower petal. "Rorschach wouldn't let them. Please, Severus, sit down. I've finished for the night."

"I have a patrol to complete," Severus answered quickly.

Lovegood glanced at the clock. "The real troublemakers are still waiting for everyone else to get to sleep. You've got time for one drink." She picked up a cloth and rubbed her hands. "The glasses are in the top right, bottles in the cabinet underneath. Help yourself. I'll be back in a minute once I clean up, but if you open the wine, I expect you to drink half."

Severus turned toward the door. "It's quite alright, Professor. I'll leave you to it..."

The door closed, seemingly on its own, as he reached for the handle, and then he looked down at its bottom. The ridiculous Kneazle was lying there with its spine against the baseboard and two legs lifted in the air so that its stomach was completely exposed.

"You're a pathetic excuse for a predator," Severus told him, giving the beast a glare. "Do you have no idea who you're dealing with? Don't your instincts tell you that you're outclassed? You should be running. Cats flee at my approach. I am not a tummy-rubber. I'm not..." he said, as he hunkered down and scratched the black-spotted stomach. "A tummy-rubber."

Lovegood watched from the kitchen doorway as she dried her hands, reshaped the points on her rinsed brushes and set them in a jar. She padded over to the cabinet. "How do you feel about anise?" she asked, peering over the top of the cabinet door.

Severus swivelled on the balls of his feet and stood, surreptitiously wiping his hands behind his back. "Anise? I thought we were talking about drinks, not Potions."

"Not a sambuca fan, then? Gillywater, red currant rum, mead or elf-made Chablis?"

Seeing no elegant way to make a retreat, Severus chose the least offensive of the remaining evils. "I'll try the wine."

Lovegood straightened, bottle in hand. She withdrew her wand from the knot of hair at the back of her head, allowing the beige-blonde strands to fall freely to her waist, and touched it to the bottle. Condensation began to form on its glass as she used her wand hand to open the cabinet above and remove two goblets.

"Allow me," Severus interjected before the balancing act could result in breakages, using Levitation to simply support the weight of the items to begin with and then conveying them to the coffee table by the sofa when she released them.

"Thank you, Severus. Have a seat. I saw your letter to the editor in Transfiguration Today." She gave a wide smile, and those washed-out silvery eyes seemed to gleam with mischief.

"You read Transfiguration Today? I thought The Quibbler was your only subscription."

"Oh, it is, but Madam Pince lets me have first read of all the major periodicals. After all, the witch who dedicates herself to only one facet of magic..."

"Will never see the beauty of the whole jewel," Severus completed the quote, one of Rowena Ravenclaw's better ones in his opinion, certainly an improvement on the trite, "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." Lovegood had been the first student to get twelve Outstanding OWLs without the help of a Time-Turner, he belatedly remembered, and, despite the interruptions caused by the Dark Lord, had followed up with enough NEWTs to make the Granger brat weep, even if she (and Minerva) had insisted that Divination wasn't a proper subject.

"I'm not entirely sure your suggestion was anatomically possible," Lovegood remarked, passing him a full goblet with unidentified flowers painted on its side. "It was quite amusing, though, and you were completely right about Coppice's article from the issue before. Massively impractical. You can't Transfigure any old rubbish into inherently magical items. Or if you could— I mean, you're the only person I know who might be able to transfigure water into Potion. You have to understand the precise characteristics of what you're trying to create, and you might just be able to do it—"

"But the magical energy required would be immense."

"It would be completely draining. The results would be unreliable and unpredictable."

"It would be needlessly dangerous."

"Both for the person trying to make it and for the one using it."

"And it's completely inefficient. Exactly!" Severus sipped at the immensely palatable wine and finally settled into the armchair by the fire. The damn Kneazle leapt straight onto his lap, circled three times and curled up. He nodded toward the faces on the wall. "You've made quite a bit of progress," he commented conversationally.

Lovegood nodded. "I did Mum and Dad first, then Filius and Mr Ollivander, and then Ginny, and now Harry. You sounded almost as if you knew my mother when we talked before."

"Not well, she was a few years older than I was. She was a prefect when I was in first and second year. She would probably have been head girl, if she'd been in a different house. She was... kind, no, fair." He shook his head. "She didn't take people at face value." Severus didn't elaborate on how she had seen Black and Potter for the bullies they were, and Lovegood didn't ask.

He felt Lovegood's huge eyes settle on him, and so he kept his own gaze on the Kneazle, only darting a glance at her now and again through his lashes.

"No one understood why she married Dad," Lovegood said. "Cornelius Fudge proposed to her first, and everybody thought she was mad to turn him down. But she chose Dad."

After a brief lull, the conversation moved on to other topics, but Severus couldn't escape the feeling that some irrevocable turning point had come and gone without him knowing its significance.

---

And the door was open the following week, and one visit led to another, and another...

---

Severus looked around the cosy room. Though the paint on Hermione Weasley's figure gleamed damply, there was none of the detritus he associated with his first few visits. No sketch pad, no half-used tubes, no shallow Tupperware box with soggy blotting paper overlaid with what looked like tracing paper that she said kept the paints moist, no soiled brushes, but perhaps most disconcertingly, no awful baggy paint-smeared dungarees. Just a disturbingly long expanse of bare toned leg between purple plimsolls and the denim cut-offs she normally wore underneath.

Luna tossed her hair back over her shoulder before she bent over to pour the wine, the bottle he'd brought the week before. It had seemed inappropriate that he, as headmaster, should impose on the hospitality of a probationary teacher on what was becoming a regular basis.

Severus tried not to look as the action made the denim rise to indecent heights.

The Kneazle helped by standing on his lap and then levering its head between Severus's forearm and the chair until he finally conceded to scratch behind its over-sized ears. Then, it decided to lie on his chest, forcing him to recline slightly, and purr into his neck.

This viewpoint was of no help at all when Luna lounged on the sofa at right angles to his chair with her feet resting on the armrest. In fact, it provided disconcerting glimpses of lilac under frayed hems as she squirmed to get comfortable. However, by the time they reached the last inch in the bottle, Severus was less concerned with propriety than with the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. It was an awful, hideous laugh that went on for far too long and left her with tears streaming down her face, but there was a joy and an innocence to it that compelled him to recount his earlier encounter with the two youngest Weasleys in hopes of hearing more.

"But what were they going to do with a toilet seat?" Luna gasped.

"I believe they said something about wanting to get their father something unique for Christmas," Severus drawled.

Luna laughed even harder, drumming her feet on the chair arm in a most disconcerting way. It took her a full minute to get her breath back. "This is what's missing from all those newspaper clippings. This is the Severus I want to draw."

Severus smirked and drained his glass. "Thankfully, Professor, according to our agreement, my indignity will remain private. At least until you can prove the existence of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks..." He lifted Rorschach from his perch and set him down on the floor before Vanishing the layer of white fur that had been left on his black robes. "And speaking of Weasleys, it's time I continued my rounds."

Luna followed him to the still open door.

His footsteps faltered infinitesimally as he reached the threshold. "I assume you'll be missing breakfast tomorrow again?"

Luna couldn't hold back her yawn as she glanced at the clock. "Probably."

"I'll make sure Bitty brings you up a tray around ten," Severus answered. "Goodnight, Professor."

"Sleep well, Severus."

---

Luna stooped to pick up Rorschach, cradling him in her arms as she watched Severus sweep majestically down the corridor. "It's okay," she whispered into the beast's ears. "He's still got a couple of weeks to get used to the idea."

---

And the days of Advent melted rapidly away...

---

"In the entrance hall, tomorrow at seven," Luna said as she rose from the sofa. "We'll eat after we Portkey. I'll pack food and equipment. Make sure you wear warm clothes." She lifted her wand from the table and cast what appeared to be a Revealing Spell at the wall above Severus's head.

Severus's eyes darted upward, his wand suddenly in his hand. As his gaze settled on the sprig of green and white, she joined him in the doorway.

"It's quite safe, Severus," she whispered, rising on tip-toe and pressing her lips to his cheek. "There aren't any Nargles."

Severus frowned slightly and gave a nod of farewell. "Until morning, Professor." He waited until he'd reached his own quarters and looked into his bathroom mirror to run his fingers over his cheek, where her lips had touched.

---

The Portkey took them to a snowbound landscape. Mountains soared above them, and they were surrounded by towering evergreens. There was no way to discern any path under the layer of snow, but Luna struck out as if she had some unerring internal compass, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Let me carry that," Severus demanded.

"No need," she answered, leading the way into a clearing where there stood a steep-roofed wooden chalet that might have come straight out of Hansel and Gretel. It seemed that Luna had no fear of any wicked witch, however. She stomped her feet as she mounted the steps to the front door, shaking loose the snow. Without so much as a knock, she pushed the door open and dropped her bag to one side. She sprinted across the room, the earflaps of her ridiculous pink pom-pommed hat bobbing up and down. Her arms wrapped around the skinny form of an elderly man with snow-white Einsteinian hair. "Dad!"

---

"Professor, entertaining as it is to catch up on your father's latest projects, shouldn't we be moving on? We've been here for four hours," Severus observed. "Unless, of course, your father also has a mythical menagerie in his back garden?"

"Not quite," Luna answered with that Mona Lisa smile of hers. "There's no point leaving much before dusk. They mostly come out at night... mostly."

Severus's eyes narrowed.

"Anyway, I won't be going the rest of the way," Luna announced. "Dad's going to take you."

"You're not coming?" Severus demanded. "What do you mean you're not coming? How are you supposed to prove anything, if you aren't even there?"

"Oh, it wouldn't prove anything if I went," the damned woman blithely replied.

"Tell me something, Professor?" Severus asked. "Have you ever seen one of these Snorkacks?"

"Well, no..." She picked up a sheaf of notes from her father's table and continued reading, looking up at him through her fringe every few seconds. "Just wait, Severus."

---

And the sun dipped low in the sky...

---

Luna picked up the backpack she had brought and handed it to Severus. "Time to go."

Severus hadn't exactly held out high hopes for this expedition, other than avoiding Christmas dinner with Trelawney, but Luna's decision to fob him off onto her father made it seem utterly pointless. Severus maintained a stubborn silence as he followed his humming guide down a tortuously narrow path at the edge of a steep defile. It took them over an hour to descend to the virgin snow at the base of a waterfall.

Severus opened up the backpack Luna had given him. He spread out the plastic sheeting that had been folded on the top and began to sort through the pack's other contents: marshmallows, a rather garish sleeping bag, two... disposable barbecues.

"I assume you have a tent large enough for us both?" Severus asked the old man.

Xenophilius stopped humming. "Oh, no," he announced as he set his own sleeping bag on top of a similar plastic sheet. "Snorkacks are very polite. They wouldn't come inside someone's tent. You do want to see them, don't you?"

"Never let it be said that I would turn down an experience like that," Severus answered dryly.

"Better settle in, then," Xenophilius announced. "And hum. They like that, something slow and melodic."

"And just how long are we supposed to stay out here?" Severus demanded, thinking of Luna in the snug warm chalet.

"Oh, just till morning. I'll come back tomorrow night. You'd be welcome to join me again, if you want."

Severus gave a sickly smile as he carefully took off his boots and got into his sleeping bag, wishing that he had thought to bring a book. "I believe I'll have to discuss that with your daughter."

---

Severus was awakened by a sudden shift of his head. In an instant, he had grabbed his wand and rolled off the plastic sheeting and into inches of snow, sleeping bag and all. He pointed his wand at his attacker. Large dark eyes stared back at him from a face swathed in pale lavender-grey hair, its physiognomy somewhere between bovine and equine. A huge plastic bag dangled from between its teeth, a bag of marshmallows, the marshmallows that had been in his backpack pillow. Slowly, Severus sheathed his wand and looked around him.

The valley floor was filled with the beasts, a whole herd, nearly thirty of them. Most of them were drinking from the stream below the waterfall.

He reached out and, taking the bag from the beast, he ripped it open before he passed it back.

The beast rooted contentedly in the bag, tiny rounded purple hairy ears flicking to and fro. It was soon joined by several of its companions.

"Shouldn't you have a horn?" Severus whispered to the pillow thief, nearly jumping out of his skin when Xenophilius replied.

"That's only mature males." He pointed to the top of the waterfall where a creature stood on guard.

Severus shifted his sleeping bag back onto the plastic sheeting, drying it off and warming it through with a quick spell. Soon, the creatures began to settle in for the night. Almost like a pack of dogs, they seemed to group around the lingering heat from the barbecues that Xenophilius had lit, making little distinction between wizard bodies and those of their brethren, and as they did the beasts began to hum. It wasn't dissimilar to Xenophilius's humming earlier, only deeper and fuller. It seemed to flow into him and resonate through him with a ponderously beautiful serenity. Severus felt his breathing slow to match its cadences... and slept.

---

And once more the sun reflected brightly off the snow-covered mountains...

---

Luna appeared at the top of the crevasse with the quietest of pops. She peered down into the valley bottom and smiled contentedly at the sight of the hard-packed snow, trodden down by many hooves. Casting a Levitation Charm on herself, she stepped forward and let gravity guide her to the ground below. Soon she had breakfast prepared, and the smell of fresh coffee and crispy bacon sandwiches roused both men.

"Do you want to walk back, Severus?" Luna asked. "Dad generally does. He says it gives him space to think. It can be quite pleasant if you're in the right mood, but I'd understand if you would rather just Apparate and get into a nice hot bath as quickly as possible."

Severus paused in his chewing, and then swallowed. "The walk might be... refreshing," he answered.

At first, all Luna could see was the back of Severus's robes, but once they cleared the crevasse, she was able to walk alongside him. She watched him closely, her eyes alight with amusement when the stealthy former spy almost tripped due to his inattention to his surroundings.

With the exception of the promised hot bath, the day appeared to pass in much the same manner as the previous one. Severus read from Xenophilius's copious stacks of books and pretended not to listen to Luna enthuse about her father's absurd projects, he was sat on by her Kneazle at every available opportunity, they cooked, they ate, and they waited for it to get dark.

---

And Xenophilius Lovegood prepared for his nightly ritual...

---

Severus watched as Xenophilius packed his bag, the temptation of further blissful tranquillity warring with his need for answers. He had a week, he reminded himself, as he watched the door close behind the old man. The click of the door latch sent him hurrying to the kitchen to prepare hot chocolate, suddenly unsure if he really wanted to know the reason he'd undoubtedly been manipulated into this bizarre retreat. Too soon, the drinks were prepared, and he had no more excuses to procrastinate.

"Why did you bring me here?" he blurted, as he handed over one of the mugs and took a seat on the sofa next to the idiosyncratic blonde.

"I wanted to paint you, and you needed to come," Luna answered.

"You manipulated me," Severus accused in an almost admiring tone. "You knew they would be here."

"I'm half-Slytherin, remember? And of course, I did. It's why Dad moved here after the war... and why he never went public to say he found them. They're very shy, and he couldn't bear to lose them."

"So shy that you've never seen one?" Severus sounded sceptical.

"They only show themselves to the people who need them. You have to be broken—"

"Excuse me!" Severus whispered dangerously. "Broken? If anyone here is broken, I can assure you that it isn't me."

Luna sighed patiently. "That's why Dad and I never found them all those times we looked when I was younger," she explained. "Something broke in Dad's soul while he was in Azkaban. It's not as if he wasn't sad after Mum died, but when he came back from Azkaban it was darker somehow. The Snorkacks help him. The darkness might take him under otherwise. Just like your soul was damaged by all those things you did when you were a Death Eater. It draws them to you."

Severus spat a mouthful of chocolate back into his mug, not knowing which horrified him more, her words or the matter-of-fact way she said them. "Marvellous! Well, now we know why no one has heard of them. It's a wonder there are any of them left if the only people they show themselves to are murderers and torturers!"

"Don't be deliberately obtuse, Severus," Luna replied softly. "It's not that you've done those things; it's the remorse and the damage to your sense of self-worth that they induced. Remember what Harry told Voldemort about his one chance to make things right? How he had to really regret the things he had done? You've done your penance. If your soul was a vase, there wouldn't be any pieces missing any more. All your bits have been put back together. You're just a little bit cracked, lonely and a little bit lost. Nothing that can't be fixed... with some tender, loving care." She reached out and tucked the wing of hair that obscured his face behind his ear.

Severus stared at her for long seconds. "Are you volunteering?"

Luna set down her mug and took his from him. Rising to her feet, she held out one hand.

Feeling almost the same lack of control as if he were in a dream, Severus took it and let her lead him to another room. It's only after he entered that he realised the entire ceiling was hung with mistletoe. "What?"

Luna moved slowly, whether afraid she might startle him, or to allow him to run if he wanted, Severus would never be sure. "It worked last time," she whispered. Then she rose on tip-toe, wrapping one arm around his neck and the other around his waist, and she kissed him. Her mouth tasted of sweet, healing chocolate, and Severus responded to the warmth before she sank back to the ground.

Severus's mind whirled, even as his body responded in a baser fashion. "No one will understand," he warned her.

"Severus, even before the war ended, I worked out why the Death Eaters snatched me from the Hogwarts Express. It should've been so much easier to take me from school... but you kept us all safe there. I know, even though you risked alienating Voldemort, you wouldn't let them take one of your pupils while they were under your protection. Even he wouldn't give you that order. He suspected you'd refuse, and he couldn't afford to lose you or to lose face, so he had to go around you. I can see the kindness inside you, and if no one else can, that's their problem."

Severus searched her silvery eyes for a second or two, finding only an honesty that compelled him to equal her bravery. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "No Nargles?"

"No Nargles," Luna agreed, drawing him toward the bed with that all too knowing smile. "So I get to paint you?"

"A gentleman never welches on a debt," Severus purred, as he looked down at her sprawled out on the bed before him. "Even if I could wish I might be spared Potter's company."

"I could be persuaded to paint you in my bedroom instead," Luna offered as she kicked off her slippers and unzipped her jeans. "Possibly even on canvas, so it can be removed before you give my suite to the next occupant, if you grant one more concession."

"I already said you might sketch me to your heart's content. What more do you desire?" Severus asked, crawling predatorily over her until he could ravage her with kisses, each more intimate than the last.

"You, Severus," Luna sighed. "I want you... naked."

Severus's hands tore at his clothing, eager and willing to comply. Then realisation dawned. "In the painting?"

Luna nodded, smiling her little smile.

"We'll discuss it..." He caught her lower lip between his teeth. "Later."

---

And the Spring Term began, and Luna added Dobby to the mural in her living room, remembering him as she had once promised... and as she had always intended.

---