It's not easy to explain, but . . .

Chapter 23

                                                Chapter 23 : Double Bubble, Toil and Trouble

Severus Snape sat gazing out the window of his private quarters; his eyes taking in the sunlight shimmering on the lake, the snow dusting the trees and the massive icicles hanging from the craggy outcrops of granite that formed the base of Hogwarts castle.  He wondered to himself why he'd never really noticed these natural, beautiful features before.  'Perhaps', he mused, 'I'm getting melancholy in my old age.' 

'Old age', he chided himself. 'You'll just be turning thirty-five next month; not exactly in your dotage.'  He shook his head, slightly amused.  'But, if Pot . . . Harry hadn't sent his friends back,' his brain reminded him. 'You'd never see thirty-eight!  At least, now, you have a chance to actually become old.'

Shaking off those gloomy thoughts, he focused on what he'd learned in the past few days - week- whatever space of time you'd call it.  Harry knew the truth about Lily . . . the whole world did, apparently.  So much for taking that secret to his grave.   But then, in truth, he had died before Harry saw his memories, so . . . Severus shook his head, again.  Damn, all this Time Travel was playing havoc with his long held notions on how his life should be lived . . . that was out of the question now; except for his role as spy against the Dark Lord. 

The rest . . . he would just have to deal with all of these changes . . . nothing for it, in any case.  He was also aware that Harry didn't hold it against him for loving his mother all those years, had even 'forgiven' him all of the slights and slurs he'd heaped on the boy's head the last four and a half years.  However, he was glad the lad had the brains to accept the fact that, at least in public, his attitude toward the boy could not change.  Nothing, in regard to his perceived demeanor, could change one iota, or it could mean all of their deaths.

Glancing at the clock on the mantel, he rose and headed for his private potions laboratory, to check on the simmering  'Felix Felicis' potion.

* * * *

Dobby and Draco appeared, with a 'pop', in Gregory's bedroom.  But before the bedridden classmate could register who was standing there, Draco sent a stunning hex, causing Gregory to collapse back onto his pillows.

"Dobby, could you do a memory charm on Gregory,  make him believe I was here visiting for a couple of hours . . . talking Quidditch and school gossip and such."

"Certainly, Master Draco,  and then I'll let Master Gregory fall asleep for a nap . . . you can leave now and go downstairs . . . Dobby is hearing old Master's voice calling Master Gregory's father."  Dobby walked over to the bed and waved his hand, Gregory's eyes closed and he started to snore softly.

"Thanks so much, Dobby."  Draco put out his hand and shook Dobby's, which made the House Elf  blush.

"Dobby is just doing his job, Master Draco."

"I know, but thanks anyway.  Oh!  Could you pop back to the Manor and tell Mother we got here in time, unseen and I'll be back in a minute or two."

"Yes, Master Draco."

'Pop'

* * * *

"Ah, Lucius, I thought I heard your dulcet tones," remarked Gaylord Goyle, as he entered the hallway.  He looked down at Lucius' face in the green flames of the fireplace.  "And to what do I owe the honor of your 'Floo Call'?"

"Good afternoon, Gaylord.  Two things, actually.  First, there will be a meeting Friday evening, at the 'house'.  We are to be there promptly at seven.  Do not be late, I don't believe the season's good cheer extends to cover our host, you understand."  Lucius raised an eyebrow.