Chimaera of Judgement



CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO: The Origin Of Webs

"What?!" Rose gasped.

"No, we only-" A cough interrupted Jezabel's words as she peered along the lakeshore, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. "If we don't leave the grounds, I won't be able to take us there."

Albus, muscles in his shoulders and legs still tensed and ready for action, asked her, "Where?"

"Wherever it is. Because, unless I'm grossly mistaken, this parchment's just given me Apparition coordinates."

"Ah," Rose sighed with relief. "Then what was all that about fleeing the castle like our arses are ablaze?!"

A quick shrug. "Well, anyone who's read 'Hogwarts: A History' knows you can't Appar-"

"Ugh, please don't finish that," Rose groaned. "Mum practically used it as a bedtime storybook for the first six years of my life. You can't Apparate here, so we'll need to be elsewhere. But you don't know where we're going?"

"Not really," she confessed, eyes seeming to scuttle behind her fringe without her truly moving. "That is, I know exactly how to get there, but I haven't the faintest idea what we'll find. Er... that is, assuming you'll accompany me?"

Albus and Rose exchanged a look of dread. A parchment had just said to their dear friend, "Please go here! You could be marching to your doom, but you won't get splinched beforehand!" What on earth could be waiting for them on the other side?

Then again, this envelope and its contents had been given to them by the Minister for Magic, a former Auror, and his well-trained staff. A slim chance that it could truly be a Dark artifact remained, but was highly unlikely; would they really hand over something truly dangerous to a student? No, scary as the prospect was, the next misadventure wouldn't kill them.

Probably not.

"Y-you don't have to, though," Jezabel hastily continued. "Come along, that is. No, no, I just meant that if we were going, we would need to be-"

"Of course we're coming," Al soothed her, even though he could tell Rose hadn't quite made up her mind yet. "Can't let you face the unknown alone, can we?"

Shooting a brief annoyed look at her cousin, Rose said, "Yeah. I mean, I've been forced to snog Al this week - hard to imagine something worse at our destination."

"Har, har."

"Oh, but why do I have to go anywhere at all?" Jezabel was moaning, moving to shove the letter back into her envelope. "Couldn't they have- oh, look, I hadn't noticed that..."

When Albus leaned over her shoulder, he also found the single line of text in the centre of the folded parchment, written so small that it was no wonder she had failed to spot it earlier: "The details of your prologue await."

"Ominous, eh?" Rose scoffed. "Was the old Lestrange bat affiliated with the theatre?"

"This is all so pointless," Jezabel continued dejectedly. "We can't even get outside the protective spell on these grounds until we leave for King's Cross, and I don't believe that would be a desirable time to Apparate us away - unless we want them scouring the countryside for us day and night."

"Hang on," Albus said, so surprised by his own thoughts that he stood involuntarily, hand at his chin. "I think I may have a way."

o o o

A few hours later found the trio grouped together in a seemingly-innocent corridor on the fourth floor, dressed fully in Muggle clothing and speaking in hushed voices. Albus knew he had already agreed to help Jezabel see this through, but that alone wasn't enough to quell the sense of impending doom in the pit of his stomach. Were they about to teleport themselves into the depths of an active volcano, or - worse yet - Mr Urran's office?

"Should we have dressed more warmly?" Jezabel was fretting. "I know it's Summer, but where we're going it may be colder than it is here! I- I think I may know a spell to warm us up a bit, but it has the nasty habit of turning the subject's skin bright orange and I never further researched a way to circumv-"

"Shhh," Rose hissed at her, shouldering the schoolbag she had set on the floor while waiting for the rest of them. "If we're going to Siberia, I've got a Pepper Imp or two, and I think Al has some. Besides, if it's that horrifying where we end up-"

"Yes, yes," she said, nodding in an effort to reassure herself. "We Apparate straight back to the tunnel and forget it ever happened. As long as we can retreat I suppose there's no real danger."

Albus thought this wasn't necessarily true, but kept it to himself. "Right. Well, then if there are no more objections... it's right over here. The cloak, Rose?"

At his cue, Rose withdrew the Invisibility Cloak from within her bag and threw it over all of them. Crouching slightly, it did manage to cover the three students. Taking a deep breath to make his veins stop throbbing in such an off-putting fashion, he led them toward a large mirror on the opposite wall.

"Anyone coming?"

"No," Rose assured him. "Now let's hurry before that becomes untrue."

Albus first pulled on the left side, but it didn't budge. Then he yanked on the other; nothing again. He was about to whip out his wand and try something else when he thought to pull from the bottom. The mirror was quite heavy, but he did feel it give the tiniest inch. It seemed the framing was fit very snugly into the doorway, so a person who bumped into it wouldn't jostle it loose and accidentally discover this secret. Another heave, and it was swinging upward to admit them.

"Quick now, go on!" Rose said, glancing behind them as Albus held it open for Jezabel. Shoving her bag ahead of herself, Rose finally joined them inside the tunnel.

"Lumos," Albus whispered to his wand. By the meager light, he could see an iron-wrought handle near the bottom of the frame; Rose, taking this cue, grabbed it and yanked hard, sliding the mirror back into its place. Nodding, they started off down a windowless corridor that ended at the top of a spiral staircase.

"Awfully steep," Rose remarked. "What if one of us should trip? We'd have a bunch of broken necks."

"Then we'll have to keep our footing," Albus shot at her. "And thanks for staying positive." He could more feel her mouthing his own words silently at him in a mocking manner than see it.

It took them a few minutes to reach the bottom of the stairs, and this only dropped them at the beginning of a narrow tunnel black as pit. Three wandtips scarcely kept them from stumbling over rocks and ridges. Then, after a goodly journey, they hit a snag.

"Blast," Rose exhaled, leaning against a nearby wall. "Caved in. We won't be going any further out, will we?"

Albus rested a hand on the mound of rubble. It was most certainly sealed tight, and had been for some time. "What if there's a branch we missed? Or could we have to climb..."

"No," Jezabel said simply. "I don't believe there's a hole in the ceiling - and I hadn't noticed any adjoining tunnel mouths back there."

Rose sighed. "So much for that bloody map. Now what?"

"Hang on," he told both of them. "Okay, we're not in Hogsmeade yet. But we've been bounding along for ages, and we have to be far enough out that Jezabel can Apparate us away."

"Or we could try a well-placed Reductor curse to relieve us of this obstacle," Jezabel laughed nervously. "Certainly witches and wizards such as we can do something about a cave-in!"

"Or," Rose countered, "we could leg it back to the castle and bin this whole business."

Al wanted to kick Rose very hard. Actually, a cruel sort of glee surged up when he considered taking Jezabel back to the stairs and ordering Rose to blast through the cave-in alone. Then he sighed and turned to Jezabel. "Let's try Apparating. If we're still underneath the grounds, I don't imagine anything will happen at all, so there's little harm done."

Both girls nodded at him. Albus and his cousin firmly latched onto one of Jezabel's sleeves apiece, fingers finding her arms within. "Right then," she told them, voice scarcely audible. Her throat was so dry at this point that it took two swallows before she was capable of speech again. "On three. One... two..."

"Merlin!" Rose wailed.

"Three!"

The sensation was no more agreeable than the last time Albus experienced it: he felt like toothpaste being squeezed onto the brush. Darkness closed in on all sides, muffling his thoughts and tightening in his chest until he could not be sure he would survive. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over, and the three of them were standing on a dreary cobblestone street, a light drizzle falling on their heads and shoulders.

Their destination was astonishingly disappointing. Albus wasn't sure what he had expected, but this was a grimy, festering old Muggle street - most of the premises there were surely condemned. At the end of this avenue was a house that somehow stood out, despite the fact that its state of disrepair differed little from the surrounding homes.

"Urgh," whispered Rose. "What a stench... is there an open manhole nearby?"

Albus swallowed, hand straying to rest on the wand in his jeans pocket. "Jezabel... are you sure we haven't ended up down the wrong street? This is-"

"This is right," she whispered, approaching the house at the end. "Not that I, er, have any idea where in the world this street located. If we'd gone astray, I'd know."

"How?" Rose was still wrinkling her nose as she took a quick step to keep pace. "How do you know this is the place?"

"I just do! Come on, please don't question my proficiency in Apparition at a time like this!"

The cousins glanced between each other. The assertiveness was a welcome change, but they had come along to support her, after all. Did she have to snipe at them so readily? But Jezabel was already at the door, knocking soundly.

"What do we do if a troll's waiting in there?" Jezabel continued in a low voice, glancing behind them. "Or a boggart? Oh, we should have asked one of our professors to come along, just to be on the safe s-"

"Shh!" Albus hissed. All of them strained to listen; no sounds came from within. Jezabel knocked once more, and again they waited. Not a sound. Then she tapped the lock and uttered an Alohomora, and instantly a gravelly voice filled with the promise of vengeance and spilled blood spoke into the night.

"FULL NAME..."

Both Jezabel and Rose were gripping Albus's arms, and Albus knew his own fingers were digging into one of theirs, though he couldn't feel them just then. Hesitantly, he whispered, "What?"

The voice did not speak again. After the span of a brief heart attack, Rose reached forward and tried the knob, but it was still locked. Not sure what else to do at this point, Jezabel tried the unlocking charm, and immediately the voice came again: "FULL NAME..."

"Albus Severus Potter," he replied. And so did the voice.

"NO!"

And Albus was blown back - the suddenness of this alone almost put him in an early grave. Once they had all stopped screaming and realized he was merely pushed from the doorstep and onto the cobblestones below, they calmed slightly.

"You try it," he said as he rubbed his backside. "This is your inheritance, after all."

Jezabel's lip quivered for the barest moment before she turned back to the door, tried unlocking it, and listened to the disembodied voice ask for her name. Then, she cleared her throat politely and answered, "Jezabel Evelyne Skirrow."

And right then, when Albus heard her announce the name between her family and given, something clicked within his mind. Perhaps that password hadn't been so arcane after all.

The door swung in, and a draught of stale, musty air greeted their nostrils. Inside, all was dark - save an odd trail of glimmering dust that seemed to hang in midair. After Albus stepped a bit further in, he saw it led straight across the sitting room that, in point of fact, looked as much like a study as a parlour. Most of the furniture was on end, and a few glass things had been smashed ungraciously. The walls were lined with bookcases, and though one or two had been hurled into the corners, the larger sum were in place and seemed well taken care of.

"Get a load of this," Rose snorted, picking up a four-armed candelabra from the floor that looked as if it were made of bones. "Quite eccentric tastes."

"Don't cut yourself," Jezabel warned. "There's glass everywhere. As a matter of fact, that candlestick may be a cursed item, so I think you should put-"

"Look," Albus interrupted.

The other two turned to see what he meant, and it became obvious within seconds; the trail of dust had settled against one shelf, onto a particular book; its title had been worn off over centuries (or millenia) of use. With a slight shrug, Rose reached out and yanked on it.

"NO!" Jezabel gasped. "Don't do that, what if-"

But the wall was already swinging open to reveal a thin, steep staircase set against a shallow indentation. It looked as if it were carved from stone, yet the surface shone metallic.

Rose seemed pleased. "There. That wasn't so awful, now, was it? Come on, let's see what's-"

"Hold up for a moment," Jezabel pleaded. "Are we really prepared for whatever may be up there? I... I don't want to get either of you killed out of mere curiosity! There've been so many close calls this year alone, and it seems as if poking into this mystery now is testing the Fates' patience more than is wise!"

"Fine, then." Rose whipped out her wand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear casually. "We won't go into this without being prepared. I say it's time we put whatever this is to rest."

"Hear, hear," Albus intoned.

Their friend took a long, hard look at them, deep brown eyes barely visible in the light from the dirt-stained windows. She seemed at a loss. Whether this was because she was touched by their display of loyalty, or worried that they themselves were touched, would have to remain unclear because her next action was to produce her own wand, light it and lead them up the stairs.

The tiny bedroom had so very obviously not been used in over a decade. Dust coated every inch of it, and it was barren and functional; a sheetless bed, a wooden table. The only things that merited further investigation were a small jewelry box on the bed, a footlocker, and a huge stone basin in the centre of the table.

As the other two hung back, waiting for the vampires to come crawling out of the floorboards, Jezabel reached for the box on the bed. It took her thin, shaking fingers a moment or two to crack it open, but when she did, she spun to look at them.

"Ohhh, Merlin..."

"What is that?" Albus asked her.

"It's... well, I can't be sure, but from all the descriptions I've ever read this has to be..." Both cousins waited an eternal moment, and at last she held the glowing phial up to eye level. "It's a memory. Which means this is..."

Now, she was standing in front of the stone bowl, staring between it and the alleged memory she had recovered from the box. With a flick of her wand, she unstoppered it and quickly dumped the cloudy, fog-like contents in, where they swirled to and fro, roiling like the steam above stew.

"Weird," was all Rose could come up with.

"I'm... I'm afraid," she told them. "Th-this is something we've never covered in class, I- and I never asked about it further, I simply assumed I might learn about it in my seventh year, b-but now here I stand, and I'm not sure we should be doing this at all!"

"Doing what?" Albus pestered. "What can you do with it?"

Jezabel swallowed, set her wand down on the table and stared between them. "The two of you... would you rather stay here, or come with me?"

"Eh?!" Rose said immediately. "Where might you be going?"

"I have to go!" she squeaked, eyes popping as she tossed the empty phial down on the bed again. "This seems too important to let it pass, but I w-would be ever so grateful if you accompany me! Just... if you'd rather stay behind, please let me know now and I won't hold it against anybody. But I will be going in, with or without you."

"We're coming along," Albus told her forcefully - and a small corner of his brain saluted the Sorting Hat for being so keen as to place her in the Hogwarts house most associated with bravery when nobody else would have. "In for a penny..."

Rose gawped at him for a moment, scandalised, then sighed irritably before stomping over toward her and the basin. "I'm certainly not letting you two ditch me in this rotting shack."

Jezabel's hands were already gripping their shoulders tightly. For no apparent reason, she paused to place a quick peck on the nearest cheek of either of them - which caused Albus to flush, and Rose to cry out in alarm. Then, without allowing them a moment to regroup, she shoved her face into the bowl.

"Really!" Rose had a second to shout - before they were falling helplessly, end over end, into an abyss of grey and uncertainty. The very moment he felt it suctioning them inside, he expected the strain and claustrophobia of Apparition, but this was more like being knocked off a broom by an unexpected gust of wind. In contrast, he found it was almost pleasant.

Then they were standing in the Headmistress's office. Immediately, Albus felt a lump rise in his throat as he cast around for a hiding place, or something he could use to prove what had just happened. Instead, all he found was Jezabel and Rose standing to one side. Were they all about to have enough detentions heaped on them to last until they left school? He was about to ask what they thought of all this when a knock sounded.

"Enter," a low, oily voice intoned. There wasn't even time to find its source, for the knocker obeyed, and in strolled a tall, pale woman with blonde hair and a strained, dour expression. She reached the desk, held up a roll of parchment, and thwacked it down on the desk as hard as possible, knocking what appeared to have been a confiscated Fanged Frisbee over.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"How good of you to stop by," the voice continued, as if her words had been a casual greeting followed by discussion of weather. "I gather you have received my correspondence?"

"You... you have no right to demand this of me," she continued, the tiniest bit of pink burning in her alabaster cheeks. "This goes against- it's- it's utterly horrid, and indecent!"

"What I have asked for is a paltry pittance in light of what you've asked of me," he growled, finally turning in the Headmistress's chair to face her. And immediately, Jezabel gasped.

"Shut up!" Rose hissed. "You'll get us all caught!"

"It's him," she whispered as the woman continued screaming at the hook-nosed man behind the desk. "There can be no mistaking, it- it's Snape! Head- and Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape!"

Albus felt his heart plummet. Hadn't it been bad enough that he'd sat on his namesake's final resting place this year? Now he was forced to meet him? It gave Rose pause, as well, for she said, "But... isn't he-"

"Shh!" Albus warned. "What if they hear us?"

"They won't hear," Jezabel told him quickly. "We're inside a memory, it's not as if we can actually affect its outcome. Now please keep quiet, I want to hear what they're saying."

"...pushes the boundaries of comradeship," the fair-haired woman was ranting. "Honestly, for you to assume that I'd be perfectly happy to go along with-"

"Dearest Narcissa," Severus Snape told her with a falsely sweet smile, "I never assumed anything of the sort. However, given that I have made an Unbreakable Vow - and thereby put my own life on the line for the sake of your little Draco - I had certainly been optimistic that you would realise you owe me a sizable favour." There was no immediate answer, so the man's greasy eyebrow inched up into his equally-greasy black hair. "Surely you do understand the gravity of such a vow? Your sister seemed to."

"What Bella understands is beside- I haven't- oh, Severus, this is just so very repulsive!" she burst out, sounding more and more defeated. Similarly, each time she used a word such as "repulsive", the man called Snape rolled his cold black eyes. "To use me like this? Isn't there some other way, some other task you might ask of me to square things between us? If it's money you're after, I would be more than-"

"Money?" A genuine smirk appeared for the most fleeting of moments on the man's lips before he continued. "Of what use are Galleons in an era of, ahh... 'reform' such as this? My dear woman, I apologise for how this must seem, but my mind is made up. This is the single thing left on Earth that I desire." His eyes dropped to the desk as he went on in more businesslike tones, "I'll thank you to accept that readily and discontinue this meaningless debate. The Dark Lord has other tasks that require immediate focus."

The woman stared down at him coldly, thin lips set. Now that no one was talking and he had a moment to think, Albus decided that she wasn't exactly unattractive, though she must spend so much time entertaining such unpleasant facial expressions that the fine wrinkles that were only beginning to appear were in the wrong places. Then, with her long blonde hair whipping behind her, she spun and strode for the door. Her hand had just reached the knob when she said, "Severus."

He did not answer. A moment passed as he shuffled a few papers, then unstoppered an inkwell. Finally, she cleared her throat and asked, "Where shall I find..."

"It will make its way to you," he informed her as he dipped a quill into the inkwell. "When necessary."

Another pause. She clutched at the collar of her travelling cloak, drew a deep breath, and muttered "Very well" before striding out and slamming the door behind.

"I don't understand," Jezabel muttered, watching as the man scratched something out onto the parchment before him. "Why are we here? What is this?"

"Well, you're better off asking someone other than me," Rose scoffed. "Fifth years must not get to play with things like this, because I've never-"

"No, not that," she sighed, walking around the desk. Even when she came to stand mere inches behind the former Hogwarts Headmaster, he did not flinch or give any other indication that she was real to him. "We're in a Pensieve, and this is one of his memories - that much I understand. What puzzles me is the purpose. Why was I brought here to witness this moment? Obviously my birthmother intended me to or she would not have bothered t-to... eh?"

Albus and Rose hesitated a moment before joining her by the desk, where they saw the very line of text that had been on the parchment that summoned them to begin with: "The details of your prologue await." As they struggled to put two and two together, he touched his wand to its surface, illuminating it briefly in a bluish glow. He then stuffed this into an envelope, sealed it with a tap of his wand, and approached a nearby owl cage, where a small, dark owl was sleeping with its head tucked into its wing.

"Come now, Ganymede," the man cooed as he eased the door open. "Wake up, you've a task. Off to the Ministry. Sloth is one of the seven, you know."

The sleepy creature was still doing its best to rouse itself when Snape had finished tying the letter to its leg. Then, after pursing his lips to consider for a moment, he strode purposefully to the window, black robes billowing behind him, and tossed it out, where it winged away into the evening sky.

"Muffliato," he cast, twirling his wand above his head. Nothing seemed to happen. Then, much to their shock, he beckoned to them from behind his back.

"No!" Jezabel cried out, eyes wide through her veil of hair. "That's impossible, the laws of- he can't know we're here, there's no way!"

A heartbeat later, he did it again; hand in the small of his back, his fingers flexed in and bade them step forward. With little else to do while trapped in the past, the three of them approached, stopping within a few inches of the man as he stared out over the Hogwarts grounds.

"I haven't much time," he said in what was too quiet even to be a whisper. "If a skilled enough wizard or witch were to be eavesdropping, it would take them but a few minutes to sense my spell and devise a way around it. Please listen well.

"The Dark Lord has me here to keep this school in line, and to quash any stirring rebellion among those students most loyal to the late Dumbledore. If he had any idea I had been sneaking off to give aid to the true threat, my life would be immediately forfeit. Therefore, the utmost secrecy is necessary. The very moment I am through, I shall remove this gossamer memory, bottle it and send it directly to my own premises, where only three people will be able to access it: myself, your mother, and you."

Jezabel paced around as the man swallowed, closing his eyes to gather his courage. Albus could see her expression softening, the confusion fading. "Oh..."

"I do wish I could know whether you will be a boy or a girl," he mused, a wistful smile growing into his lined, severe features. "Oh, I could have manipulated the outcome, turned you into an image of my own personal design and liking; I am an accomplished enough wizard to manage this. However, your very existence is enough, and I would prefer you look back on your childhood and realize that the largest part I had in it was its inception."

"Bloody hell!" Rose burst out.

"You will surely be asking yourself why. Why should this man care to create an heir? The answer is... I'm not sure myself." He considered his own question. "One might perceive that I've become a touch maudlin in these final years. Final, because surely I will not survive this battle - a death severely overdue. No matter. Much more imperative is that I have done what I have done, and I fully expect dear Narcissa to make good her recent obligation to use a spell I have stored for her to conceive you once this bloodbath has reached its finale. Now, either she is watching this and laughing, or you are watching this and are rather appalled. If the latter, I can only hope she has raised you to be at least a passable human being and a capable witch or wizard - as you must be, if you've struggled through the Mentacles and found your way to Spinner's End. Do forgive me for testing your worth, but... it wasn't such an impossible puzzle, was it? 'Origin of webs'? A mild challenge to lead you from present to past. Set your blood pressure at ease; there aren't any more surprises lurking within your own body."

Jezabel's eyes were gushing like twin waterfalls as she watched the man whom had so casually divulged that he was her father by use of swirling vapours in a bowl. What did she make of this? What could anyone make of such a revelation?

"It is a vain hope that this knowledge will not disgust and anger you, as I am certain to be the very last being you had hoped to have sired you. That is an area I understand all too well. But you have never been struck, nor berated, nor cast aside as worthless. In that, I am at least kinder than my own patriarch; I had no chance to destroy your childhood as mine was. Though they may be cold and callow, I trust the Malfoys enough to know the worst they will do is spoil you rotten, and that is, comparatively, an acceptable fault."

"The Malfoys?" Albus found himself whispering. Rose's elbow met his ribs, and he did not hold it against her; he should not be interrupting this. Still, how was he supposed to react when learning that in some insane manner, Jezabel had ended up being raised by entirely the wrong people?

"But all creatures great and small must have parents," Snape was muttering. "I have wizarding blood in my veins, and thus, you do as well. Even as a squib, you would stand a better chance of producing magical offspring than mere Muggles. My personality may have been twisted and ruined from birth, but it is with no pride whatsoever that I note my prodigious talent in the area of wizardry, and in an era when great witches and wizards are growing scarce, I shall spin the wheel of fate for a small chance to create a legacy that may surpass me. Selfish, I confess. Oh, but I desperately hope you've gained your mother's looks rather than... well."

This strange, overgrown bat of a man turned slightly as he produced his wand. "I've left behind for you a selection of my books and other papers detailing my research into the areas of spellwork and potion making. Some Dark, some otherwise. Let it be known that my personal wish is for you not to venture down the path of evil as I once did, but a father from beyond the grave has little say in his children's futures."

His wand gravitated up to his temple, but drooped slightly as he added, "And so you needn't live without knowing - your middle name, which I've informed Narcissa is non-negotiable, is an amalgam of the only two women I ever loved: 'Eileen' Snape, née Prince, and Lily 'Evans'. That, if nothing else, is something of mine you shall always carry with you. If you are my son, I apologise for it having such a feminine ring; let's pray your peers do not catch wind of it. And if I've a daughter... make that three women."

And the very second Snape's wand reached the side of his head, the three of them were flying, flying up and out of the Headmaster's office and through the clouds, finally landing on the floor in the dingy old room down a dingy old street, Jezabel's lit wandtip still illuminating the walls and their faces.

"My God," she breathed. "He was... he w-"

"Do you believe any of that rubbish for a moment?!" Rose burst out. "How... how dare he! Go through all this trouble to set up a, a- a trap of information! This sort of thing ought to be-"

"Rose..."

Now that he drew her attention to it, all of them were staring at the object they had left glowing in the darkness. Albus raised his own and lit it, and when Rose saw what they saw she took in a sharp breath.

"Say, it looks awfully similar to the wand he just used to... wait a moment. Could he have...?"

Albus and Rose could only look on with mingling wonder and pity as Jezabel scooped up her father's wand, sank to the floor and began crying in earnest.

END Chapter Fifty-Two