Aftermaths, Part 103
by Geri ([email protected])
Rating: Mostly PG-13, but NC-17 for overall story
Pairing: Snape/Lupin, Theodore/Blaise
Warning: AU; events that occurred at the end of Order of the Phoenix were
significantly altered from the book.
Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return
of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn, and Phoenix Rising.
Summary: The various characters deal with the aftermath of the war, and Snape
and Lupin try to build a family together with Theodore and Dylan. However, some
people are unable to let go of the past...
Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Hob, who belongs to
William Mayne; no money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish
fulfillment on my part.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Snape was indeed furious when he learned that the wand turned out to be a
dead-end lead. (Branwen had been chosen as the bearer of bad news, since she was
deemed most capable of handling a wrathful Snape.) However, he was too exhausted
to go into a full-blown rage, since worrying about Theodore and reconciling with
his mother had drained most of his energy.
Lupin just sighed. "I'm not really surprised, to be honest. It seemed strange
that the culprit would have left behind such an obvious clue that could have
implicated him or her."
"Are we sure that this Longbottom had nothing to do with the incident?" Selima
asked suspiciously. The teachers seemed to have dismissed the idea out of hand a
little too quickly for her taste. "The boy's parents were driven insane by the
Death Eaters. Perhaps he holds a grudge against their children, and conjured the
Dark Mark in an attempt to implicate the Slytherins."
Snape snorted in derision. "Longbottom's not that devious, Mother--nor that
competent. If all these pranks are connected, as we think they are, there's no
way he could have gotten away with all of them. One or two, perhaps, but sooner
or later he would have botched one of them; I can't tell you how many times he's
nearly blown up the Potions classroom. The boy's a walking disaster."
"You exaggerate, Severus," Lupin chided him. "Neville's improved a great deal
over the past couple of years."
"Perhaps," Snape conceded grudgingly, "but casting a time-delayed spell requires
a certain degree of skill and precision that Mr. Longbottom still lacks."
"And anyway," Lupin continued, "Neville would never do something like this. It's
not in his nature to be malicious, and besides, he's friendly with Vincent
Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, so I don't think he holds a grudge against the Death
Eater children."
"Mr. Longbottom apparently has a history of being a bit forgetful," Branwen
explained to Selima. "It's most likely that he mislaid his wand somewhere, and
the real culprit found it and decided it would be safer to use someone else's
wand rather than their own."
"Was it just a fortunate coincidence for them?" Lupin wondered. "Or could they
have deliberately planned to steal it?"
"It's possible, although a bit risky on their part," Snape said a little
dubiously. "You'd think that even Longbottom would notice his pocket being
picked." He sighed irritably. "Well, is McGonagall at least going to give him
detention for being so careless as to lose his wand?"
"I didn't ask, but I don't think so," Branwen replied, frowning. "It was an
accident, and no one could have predicted what would happen."
"It's not his fault, Severus," Lupin said quietly.
"I know, but I'd like to punish SOMEONE," Snape growled. "Damn it, this bloody
prankster is almost as clever as the real Death Eaters. I can't believe we're
being outsmarted by some snot-nosed brat! Maybe I could 'accidentally' spill
some Veritaserum into the pumpkin juice at dinner..."
"I wouldn't advise it, Severus," Branwen said sternly. "Especially since the
Aurors have gotten involved. They don't look kindly upon that sort of thing."
"Well, I don't look kindly upon my sons nearly getting killed," Snape grumbled,
but was too tired to argue further. He and Lupin and Selima stayed by Theodore's
side throughout the day, even eating lunch and dinner in the hospital wing.
Every now and then, Theodore would wake briefly and smile, looking reassured
when he saw his family watching over him. Lupin finally persuaded Selima to go
home and get some rest, but he and Snape slept in the hospital wing that night
to guard their son.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Everyone in Ravenclaw was gossiping anxiously about what had happened at the
Quidditch match. Stewart pretended to be as concerned as everyone else, but
inside he was gloating. He and Isabelle had figured out how to create what they
hoped was a convincing Dark Mark, thanks to Master Satoshi's Illusion classes.
(Those classes had also come in handy when Stewart had disguised himself as
Theodore Snape in order to plant the gift-wrapped Porvora on Aric's desk.) The
only problem had been how to cast it without getting caught. They had considered
several plans, including sneaking out of the castle at night to cast it, but
that was risky, because they might get caught sneaking back in. Besides, they
really wanted to do it during the Quidditch match, where everyone, including
Stewart's father's Auror friends, would see it. Stewart had considered feigning
illness, then sneaking out of the hospital wing to cast the spell while everyone
was at the match, but that also ran a high risk of discovery. So it had been an
incredible stroke of luck when Stewart had discovered Longbottom's wand in
Transfiguration class. (McGonagallŐs fourth-year Ravenclaw class just happened
to immediately take place after her seventh-year Gryffindor class that day.)
That nitwit had carelessly left his wand behind, and Stewart had quickly
pocketed it before anyone noticed. It had been the perfect opportunity--now they
could cast the spell in advance without it being traced back to them.
Stewart had some familiarity with Muggle devices, since one of his roommates was
a half-blood. When the magical music boxes had been all the rage among the
students, Stewart's roommate had casually shrugged it off, explaining that tape
recorders did much the same thing with no need for magic. He had been able to
order one anonymously, through a classified ad in the Daily Prophet, and record
the "Morsmordre" command in secret, using a simple charm to change his voice
into something deep and menacing. Isabelle, who was more adept at such things,
had cast the time-delayed illusion, and they had snuck out early in the morning
to plant the wand and tape recorder in the tree. No one seemed to have noticed
their absence, and even if they had, he doubted that their housemates would have
found it suspicious. Everyone assumed that he and Isabelle were a couple, and it
wasn't uncommon for a couple to sneak off and steal a little time alone
together.
Stewart sighed; he only wished that were true. He and Isabelle were good
friends, but so far that was all. They had gone to the Yule Ball together, but
she had been focused on exposing the Slytherins rather than romance. So far the
most he'd won from her had been a kiss on the cheek, but on the other hand, that
was still more favor than she'd shown any of the other numerous boys who were
interested in her. He hoped that she wasn't pining over some Beauxbatons boy
she'd left behind, but comforted himself with the thought that even if such a
guy did exist, he was thousands of miles away, while Stewart was right here.
Besides, Isabelle seemed single-minded in her pursuit of revenge; he doubted
that she would be interested in anything else until she achieved her goal. Which
was all the more reason to help her achieve it...
Towards that end, Stewart had contacted a couple of his father's friends, and
expressed concern about the various hexes and pranks that had taken place at the
school recently. They had already heard disturbing rumors, and were annoyed and
offended that Dumbledore had not seen fit to consult with them about it. They
had agreed to meet Stewart at the match to discuss it, and perhaps take a look
around the school. The Dark Mark illusion had gone off as planned, and now the
Aurors were officially involved--Dumbledore and Snape wouldn't be able to brush
off these incidents anymore. If the Aurors dug deep enough, surely they would
find some evidence that the Slytherins were up to no good--enough to expel them,
maybe even arrest them.
It never occurred to Stewart that the Slytherins might be innocent, nor did he
worry about his own role in the pranks being exposed. If the Ravenclaws had a
flaw, it was probably pride in their own cleverness, and a certainty that no one
else could outsmart them.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Meanwhile, in the Hufflepuff dorm, Tristan frowned as he watched Isabelle and
several other girls talk about what had happened at the match. "It's so scary,"
Hannah Abbott said. "Like back in second year, when the Chamber of Secrets was
opened, or in third year, when Sirius Black snuck into the castle. Of course,
you weren't here back then, Isabelle..."
"No, but my mother told me how it was back in the old days, during the first
war," Isabelle said solemnly. "She said that no one felt safe, and you didn't
know which of your neighbors or coworkers might secretly be Death Eaters. They
wiped out entire families--not just their enemies, but anyone related to them,
even women and children."
"No wonder your mum fled the country," Hannah said.
Isabelle nodded. "Yes, she'll be worried when she hears about what happened. I
should go write to her and let her know I'm all right."
Tristan quietly got up and went after Isabelle as she left the common room.
"Isabelle!" he hissed. "I want to talk to you!"
She turned and smiled at him. "You know you're not allowed in the girls' dorm,
Tristan."
"You and Stewart were behind that Dark Mark at the match, weren't you?" Tristan
demanded in a hushed voice. "And those threats against Potter, too?"
"Shh!" Isabelle hissed, looking around nervously to see if anyone was within
earshot. "You know better than to talk about things like that here!"
"Sending sugar skulls or threatening notes is one thing," Tristan continued,
although he kept his voice down to a whisper, "but Snape's son almost got killed
today!"
"What do you care what happens to him?" Isabelle retorted. "His father--both of
his fathers--were Death Eaters. Don't you want revenge for your cousin's death?
It didn't bother you when we hexed Dylan at the other match."
Tristan didn't really know why it bothered him, either. He had no love for
Theodore Snape-formerly-Nott or either of his fathers. Maybe it had been the
look of sheer terror on the faces of Theodore and the other Slytherins when they
had seen the Dark Mark--not the glee and smugness, or even just confusion that
he might have expected. Maybe it was simply that it was harder to see things as
black and white now that Uncle Amos and Master Bleddri--no, Master Diggory,
now--were feuding in court. Tristan's beloved uncle claimed that his teacher was
a dangerous monster, while that teacher claimed that Uncle Amos had stolen his
inheritance. Tristan's mother believed Master Diggory (it was so strange,
calling him by that name!), but Tristan didn't know what to believe. All he knew
was that no matter how things turned out, it seemed like his family was never
going to be whole again.
But it was too hard to explain all these things to Isabelle, so all Tristan said
was, "Of course I want revenge, but you should have told me what you were going
to do. I thought we were all in on this together. Especially if it's something
dangerous."
"It was just an illusion!" Isabelle whispered irritably. "We didn't plan for
anyone to get hurt. Besides, we didn't want to bother you when you were so
preoccupied with your uncle's trial..."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Susan had been distracted all day. She had been frightened by the Dark Mark, the
same as everyone else, but something more than that was bothering her. So when
Isabelle left the room, Susan hesitated for a couple of minutes, then followed
her, and found Isabelle and Tristan arguing in hushed voices in the corridor
between the common room and the girls' dorm. She couldn't hear what they were
saying, catching just a snippet of their conversation:
"...didn't want to bother you when you were so preoccupied with your uncle's
trial..."
"Isabelle? Tristan? What's going on?" Susan asked.
Both of her friends glanced up, looking first startled, then guilty, almost
wary. Then Isabelle smiled pleasantly and said, "Nothing, Tristan was just a
little shaken about what happened at the match today."
After a brief moment of hesitation, Tristan nodded. "Yeah, it was pretty scary.
Well, I'll see you guys later. I still haven't started my Potions homework, and
even a Death Eater attack's not gonna be a good enough excuse to Snape for not
turning it in."
He returned to the common room, and Susan said to Isabelle, "It seemed like you
were arguing about something."
Isabelle leaned over and said in a conspiratorial whisper, "Yes, well, I didn't
want to say anything in front of Tristan, but...he's actually more upset about
his uncle's trial than the Dark Mark. He's very angry and confused, and he's
been a little out of sorts recently. He was just...what's the phrase? Blowing
off a little steam, I think. I don't mind; I know it's not really me that he's
mad at. And of course he doesn't want to hurt his family's feelings by telling
them that he's angry with them for fighting with each other."
That sounded very logical and reasonable, but just a little too smoothly worded
somehow. "Isabelle," Susan said hesitantly, "you don't know anything about the
Dark Mark that was cast at the match today, do you?"
"Of course not!" Isabelle exclaimed, looking shocked, and then hurt. "How could
I?"
"I just meant," Susan said hastily, "that I wondered if you had any idea who did
it?"
"Well, the Slytherins, of course," Isabelle replied promptly. "Probably the same
ones who sent that note to Harry. Isn't that what we've suspected all along?"
"Oh, yes, of course," Susan said. "But do you think they're all involved, or is
it just a few of them?"
"I don't know," Isabelle said with a shrug, "but I assume that the children of
the Death Eaters are probably involved." She smiled confidently. "Don't worry,
Susan. Stewart said two of his father's Auror friends came to the match today,
and I'm sure that they'll take this threat seriously and get to the bottom of
it."
Susan nodded and Isabelle continued on her way to her room, but Susan was still
troubled. {Isabelle is my friend,} she told herself firmly. {She would never lie
to me.} But she couldn't help but think that it was a remarkable coincidence
that a threatening note had been sent to Harry right after she had expressed
doubt that the Slytherins were guilty, and had said that if the Death Eaters
were really involved, they would be attacking Harry Potter and the Gryffindors,
not the Slytherins. But it had to be a coincidence, right? Just how far would
Isabelle go to prove that the Slytherins were Death Eaters? Surely she wouldn't
fabricate evidence...would she?
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
As they had threatened, Dawlish and Williamson spoke to the school board, which
caused a minor uproar. However, most of the board still had faith in Dumbledore,
who was, after all, a hero of the war, and did not try to remove him from his
position. The Headmaster agreed to take some precautions, such as setting a
curfew and having the staff patrol the halls in the evenings, and temporarily
suspending the Quidditch matches.
The Slytherins grumbled only halfheartedly about that, because they were all
shaken by the sight of the Dark Mark in the sky, even if it had turned out to be
a fake. The Slytherins, especially those whose parents had been Death Eaters,
had a much clearer idea of the kinds of tortures the Death Eaters used to
inflict on their victims than did most of the other students, and it was enough
to give them restless and unpleasant dreams. One night Draco dreamed that his
father was chasing him, screaming, "I'll show you how the Death Eaters punish
traitors, Draco!" as a glowing green skull loomed above them in the sky. In his
dream, he stumbled, and just as his father's hands closed around him, Draco
woke, sitting bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath, his heart pounding at
what felt like ten times its normal rate. It took a very long time for him to
get back to sleep again.
He still felt fatigued and uneasy the next morning, and after classes were over
for the day, he went to seek out Snape. He wasn't sure why; Snape wasn't exactly
the type of person you would seek out to comfort you after a bad dream. But
still, Snape had been a Death Eater, and somehow Draco felt that he would
understand that sense of fear better than any of the other teachers, even Lupin.
Maybe he just wanted reassurance that the Dark Mark really was a fake and that
the Death Eaters hadn't returned. But when he got to the dungeon, Snape was
already locking up his office and preparing to leave.
"Sir?" Draco said hesitantly. "Could I talk to you for just a minute?"
"I'm sorry, Draco," Snape said distractedly. "I was on my way to the hospital
wing to visit Theodore. Can it wait till later?"
"Uh...sure," Draco said. "It wasn't really important anyway." The Potions Master
nodded, and hurried on his way, and Draco slowly walked to the Slytherin dorm,
feeling a little sulky and disgruntled. In the old days, everyone in Slytherin
had deferred to him, and he had been Snape's favored student. Now, no one paid
him much heed, and he had to play second fiddle to Dylan and Theodore. He knew
that he shouldn't resent them, because Dylan and Theo had remained his friends
when they could have abandoned him, but it just didn't seem fair, somehow. Draco
had once been first in all things, and now he felt almost like an afterthought.
"Is something wrong, Draco?" Serafina asked later that evening, when she saw him
moping in the common room.
What was he supposed to say? That he was jealous because he wasn't Snape's
favorite anymore? That he wished his daddy, the big bad Death Eater, was still
alive so that he could push everyone in Slytherin around like he used to?
"Nothing," Draco sighed.
"Well, you can help me entertain Bast, then," Serafina said, tossing a catnip
mouse onto his lap, and the kitten immediately pounced in pursuit of her toy. So
Draco laughed and the two of them played with Bast, although he still continued
to brood a little. Serafina noticed, but didn't say anything. She assumed that
he was upset about the Dark Mark--it had scared her as well--and he was probably
too proud to admit how frightened he had been. It wasn't really in her nature to
pressure him to talk about it; if and when he was ready to talk, she would
listen, otherwise, she would let him be.
As for Snape, he had meant to seek out Draco later and see what he wanted. But
he was distracted by his concern for Theodore, and his fear of what the
mysterious prankster might do next, not to mention his changed relationship with
his mother which, while welcome, was still a little awkward for both of them.
And with so many things on his mind, Snape completely forgot about Draco.
Draco said nothing, but deep inside of him, a tiny seed of resentment began to
fester.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Takeshi Kimura was working at the charity clinic one morning with Kian, a young,
dark-haired werewolf who was one of Lukas's pack members. (The unemployed
werewolves worked regularly at the clinic, and even the ones who had jobs often
stopped by in their free time to help out.) They were both surprised when Lukas
walked through the door, clad in fine velvet robes, and Kian bounded over to
greet his pack leader with a puppy-like air of eagerness.
"Wow!" Kian exclaimed. "Don't you look posh--just as fine as any of those snooty
purebloods!"
"That's the idea," Lukas said dryly. "Morrigan says that I have to look like one
of them if I'm going to win my case."
"You ARE one of them," Takeshi pointed out with a smile, and Lukas gave him a
sour look, as if the mediwizard had just insulted him. "Are you on your way to
court, Lukas?"
"Yes, I just thought I'd stop by and say hello since I was in the neighborhood."
"I can't wait to see your mansion!" Kian said eagerly.
"You could be waiting a long time, cub," Lukas sighed. "The trial will likely
drag out for months, and it's by no means certain that I'll win."
The young werewolf looked crestfallen, but he said loyally, "I'm sure you'll
win, Lukas."
"I've been reading a lot of outrageous things in the Daily Prophet about Death
Eaters attacking Hogwarts," Takeshi said anxiously. "I'm sure most of it's
nonsense, but could you tell us what really happened, Lukas? The paper said that
Theodore Snape was injured."
So Lukas explained about the pranks and the false Dark Mark. "Theodore's injury
appears to have been an accident. Everyone was too distracted to pay attention
to the Bludgers, and the Bludger was only doing what it was supposed to do--no
one needed to hex it, as it's already enchanted to attack the nearest player."
He shook his head. "Sometimes I think wizards are crazy; why would anyone want
to play a game where the equipment is out to kill you?"
"No one's been killed during a Quidditch match in years," Kian protested.
"I think it must have been invented by a bunch of purebloods with too much time
on their hands," Lukas continued, ignoring him. "Only the idle rich could have
come up with such a silly game."
"Silly?" Kian cried indignantly.
"But Theodore is all right?" Takeshi asked impatiently. "And the other
students?"
"Theodore was the only student who was hurt, and Madam Pomfrey says he'll be
fine," Lukas replied, looking a little puzzled. "Didn't Aric write to tell you
what happened?"
"Ah...well..." Takeshi temporized, a sheepish look on his face.
Lukas grinned. "Still not speaking to each other, eh? Can't say I blame you;
Dietrich can be an obnoxious little git at times. Well, most times, actually."
Takeshi sighed. He had deliberately been avoiding Aric ever since their
argument, which he supposed was a bit childish of him. After all, he was
supposed to be the more mature one. Besides, he really shouldn't hold a grudge;
Aric had only been parroting what he'd learned from his parents and his peers at
Durmstrang. Takeshi had certainly heard similar or even worse things from his
classmates at Hogwarts, mainly the Slytherins, but the other Houses were by no
means immune to bigotry. He didn't know why Aric's offhand insult, which had not
even been aimed at him, should have stung so much.
"He's just a kid," Takeshi said aloud. "He doesn't know any better. He's spent
his entire life having all that pureblood prejudice drilled into him by his
family. But I suppose what's frustrating is that he has the potential to be so
much more than just another obnoxious little git, as you put it."
"He's a talented student," Lukas agreed. "And occasionally he shows brief
flashes of humanity. But not knowing any better excuses only so much. Sure, he's
heard all the typical pureblood propaganda at home and school, but sooner or
later you have to learn to think for yourself and take responsibility for your
actions. Snape grew up in a family as prejudiced as Aric's, if not more so, but
he chose to reject their values."
"I think that's because he's in love with Remus," Takeshi said, smiling a
little.
"Yes, but my point is, a proper pureblood wouldn't have fallen in love with a
werewolf," Lukas said. "Or at the very least, he would have made a proper
marriage and continued to see his werewolf lover on the sly. Snape chose love
over propriety. The Death Eaters' children chose not to follow in their fathers'
footsteps. Someday Aric will have to make a choice, too. Or he could refuse to
acknowledge that he has a choice--which is a choice in itself. And he's not just
a kid; he's nearly a man."
"Well, I know he's a seventh-year, but--" Takeshi started to say.
"No, I meant literally," Lukas interrupted. "He turns eighteen this Sunday, at
which time he'll be legally old enough to drink, get married, own property, go
to prison..."
"Oh," Takeshi said, looking startled. "I didn't realize that his birthday was
coming up. How did you know?"
Lukas shrugged. "I just happened to notice it when I was reading his transcript
awhile back. He challenged me on the first day of class, and after that, I
thought I should learn a little more about him." He glanced at the clock on the
wall. "Well, I'd better get going. I'm sure it will look bad if I'm late for my
own trial."
"Why don't you stop by for lunch afterwards?" Kian suggested. "Takeshi's mum
promised to send some food over."
"Thanks, but I'm not sure what time court will get out," Lukas said evasively.
"We're not going anywhere," Kian said with a puzzled frown. "We'll save you some
food, even if you're late."
"Er...it's just that...I sort of have an appointment," Lukas hedged.
Kian grinned widely. "Ah, with a woman? Who's the lucky lady?"
"It's not like that, you dolt!" Lukas snarled, flushing a little. "I'm
just...going over some strategy with Morrigan, that's all."
"Ah, the lady lawyer," Kian said knowingly. "Well, she's very pretty."
"I said it's not like that!" Lukas growled. "It's strictly business, and
besides, she's not my type!"
"Yes, it's difficult to picture you dating a pureblood," Kian agreed. "Although
since she took your case, I suppose she can't be as prejudiced as most of them
are."
Lukas turned and stalked out of the clinic without another word, slamming the
door hard behind him. "What's eating him?" Kian asked in a hurt voice.
"I'm sure the trial is very stressful for him," Takeshi said gently. "And I
don't think that he cares to discuss his personal life with us."
"Oh, I was just teasing him a little," Kian laughed, his good mood suddenly
restored. "And besides, we're pack; everyone is always getting into everyone
else's business! But you're right, Lukas doesn't like to talk about his lovelife.
And our pack leader's a bit grumpy, in case you haven't noticed. He doesn't have
much of a sense of humor."
"I've noticed," Takeshi said with a smile.