Aftermaths, Part 121

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.
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Lady Selima showed up at Hogwarts one afternoon to see Snape and Lukas. They gathered together in the Potions Master's quarters, along with Lupin, Dylan, and Theo.

"What is it this time, Mother?" Snape asked impatiently. "I told you before, I'm quite busy this time of year, preparing the students for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Whatever it is, couldn't it have waited until Easter break?"

"Now, now, Severus," Lupin scolded. "Is that any way to speak to your mother?"

Snape glared at his lover as the boys tried to hide their smiles. "Never mind, Professor," Selima said calmly. "I'm quite used to my son's rudeness by now. And no, Severus, it could not have waited until Easter break, because I wanted to discuss plans for having a party at the Manor during the break."

"A party!" Snape cried in horror. "But you promised that we wouldn't have any parties until Theodore graduated! And stop laughing, Lupin! It's not one bit amusing!"

"Circumstances have changed, Severus," Selima said, and turned her gaze upon Lukas. "You may thank your friend Cyril for that."

"Me?" Lukas said, taken aback. "What did I do?"

"You howled on the Hogwarts grounds during the last full moon, that's what you did!" Selima said tartly.

"Oh, so you know about that?" Lukas asked sheepishly.

"The entire wizarding world knows about it!" Selima snapped. "Your foolishness has dealt a major setback to the trial!"

"Look, I've already been lectured by Morrigan," Lukas said irritably. "I know it was a stupid thing to do, and I'm sorry, but I can't change the past!"

"No, but you can change the future," Selima said firmly. "We must undo the damage that your little wolfish escapade did."

"And how, pray tell, is a party going to accomplish that?" Snape asked sarcastically.

"Why, that should be obvious," Selima retorted. "We are going to introduce Cyril into high society. I am going to invite all the most important people in the wizarding world, and he is going to prove to them that he can behave like a proper pureblood Lord." Lukas was staring at her with a growing look of horror, one that rivaled Snape's. Selima glared at him, and continued in a steely voice, "You will be on your best behavior. You will be charming and witty. If someone insults you, you will not growl at or bite him. Instead, you will respond as a pureblood would, with a contemptuous look or subtle but scathing retort that will cut him down to size. You will remind people that you are a hero of the war, and that you are Cynric Diggory's son. You will prove that you are fit to inherit your father's title. You will be such a paragon of Lordliness, that even those who despise you will be impressed in spite of themselves. Is that clear?" Her voice seemed to say, in no uncertain terms, that he would obey whether he liked it or not.

Lupin looked at his stunned friend, and got the impression of a very cowed wolf, with drooping ears and tail, and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

"Yes, Lady Selima," Lukas said meekly.

"Well, if this is for Diggory's benefit, then you won't need me," Snape said, sounding relieved.

"You are the Lord of the Manor, Severus!" Selima said sharply. "Of course your presence will be required!" Snape groaned out loud.

"At least I'll have a chance to wear the dress robes I got for Christmas," Dylan said cheerfully, and Snape glared at his son.

"Am I invited?" Lupin asked hopefully.

"I'm not going to this party if Lupin isn't," Snape immediately said, sounding more like a sulky child than either a Potions Master or Lord of the Snape family.

"Of course Professor Lupin is invited," Selima said impatiently. "Who else would keep you in line?"

Lupin smiled sweetly at Snape, who glowered fiercely at him.

"However," Selima continued, "I have to ask the two of you to refrain from dancing together at the party. That sort of thing may go over at Hogwarts, but--"

"There's going to be dancing at the party?!" Snape and Lukas wailed in chorus, and Lupin burst out laughing. Dylan and Theo tried to be a little more discreet, but weren't very successful; Dylan had to fake a coughing fit to hide his laughter, while Theodore made little choking noises as he tried to muffle his.

"Of course there will be dancing; this is a formal party!" Selima snapped. She gave Lukas critical look. "You do know how to dance, don't you?"

"Er...well...sort of...I mean, nothing fancy, just casual dancing among friends..."

"'Sort of' is not good enough," Selima said sternly. "You need to become proficient enough that the pureblood guests won't be able to find fault with your dancing. We don't have very long...only a couple of weeks. Hmm...the Slytherin girls will be familiar with the types of formal dances that--"

"I am not taking dancing lessons from my students!" Lukas said adamantly.

"Well, I suppose it would not really be appropriate," Selima admitted. Then her expression brightened. "I know! I'll ask Professor Blackmore to practice with you. She is of good family; she knows the dances, and she'll be able to teach you the basic patterns even if she's a little rusty."

"You're presuming a bit, Mother," Snape said. "What if Branwen isn't interested in giving dancing lessons?"

"Then I will teach Cyril myself," Selima replied. "I can take the Floo to the school in the afternoons, or he could come over to the Manor. I just thought that Professor Blackmore would be a more convenient partner since she's already here at the school."

Lukas looked even more horrified at the prospect of dancing lessons with Selima, and Lupin almost started laughing again. He wondered whether Branwen would be amused or offended to learn that Lukas found Selima even more intimidating than her. Like Severus, she seemed to pride herself on her terrifying reputation. Still, if anyone could hold their own against her, it was probably Selima. The Hogwarts students ought to be grateful that Lady Snape had never considered taking up teaching as a profession.

"I will ask Branwen to help me," Lukas said quickly.

"Good," Selima said. "I want you to stop by the Manor once school gets out so I can check on your progress."

"Not to brag," Lupin said, "but we werewolves seem to have a natural sense of agility and grace." He smiled at his friend. "I'm sure you'll pick it up in no time, Lukas."

"We'll hold the party towards the end of the break, on a Saturday night," Selima said. "That will give us a little extra time to prepare."

"And what is the occasion, Mother?" Snape asked pointedly. "Or I should say, what excuse will you put on the invitations? Unless you intend to call it 'the werewolf's coming-out party'."

"You and I could have a coming-out party," Lupin joked.

"The whole bloody wizarding world already knows about us, Lupin," Snape grumbled.

Selima gave the two of them an exasperated look. "It will be a party to celebrate the coming of spring, of course," she said impatiently.

"Oh, how nice," Lupin said, clapping his hands together. "Can we have an Easter egg hunt?"

He had only been teasing her a little, but to his surprise, he received a thoughtful look rather than the withering glare he was expecting. "I'll consider it," Selima said. She rose to her feet, ignoring the stunned silence that followed her statement. "I will handle the preparations and send out the invitations, Severus," Selima said coolly. "You need only show up and behave yourself."

"I can hardly wait," Snape muttered sarcastically.

"But what about...you know?" Dylan whispered to Snape.

"Is there some problem, Severus?" Selima asked.

Snape hesitated, and the boys' eyes flickered over to Lupin for a second. "We had certain plans for that weekend, Mother, but don't worry about it. We can attend your party, but we need to return to the school Sunday morning."

Selima frowned, looking a little disappointed. "You can't stay for dinner, or at least lunch?"

Lupin grinned. He leaned over and said in a stage whisper, "It's my birthday that Sunday, you see, and I believe they're planning a surprise party for me. But don't tell them I said so, because I wouldn't want to ruin their fun."

Selima and Lukas looked startled, Snape blushed, and the boys grinned sheepishly. "Well, then," Selima said briskly, "you can have the party at the Manor. A much smaller and more casual affair, of course--the family and perhaps a few friends. Owl me the details." Then she swept out of the room without another word.

"I can see where your penchant for dramatic exits comes from," Lupin observed.

"Oh, shut up, Lupin," Snape growled, then glared at Lukas. "This is all your fault!"

Lukas groaned, "Please, kill me now and get it over with! A pureblood party--that's got to be a worse torture than anything the Death Eaters could have come up with!"

"Don't tempt me, Diggory," Snape snarled. "The only thing that's stopping me from casting a Killing Curse at you right now is the fact that my mother would be furious, and I prefer to have her mad at you rather than at me. Besides, that would be too quick and merciful a death. No, if I have to suffer, you're going to suffer along with me."

Lupin could no longer hold back his laughter, and collapsed on the floor, holding his stomach as he laughed hysterically.

"Oh, shut up Lupin!" Snape and Lukas both shouted at him, which only made him laugh even harder.
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After completing their detention at the clinic, Snape sentenced Draco and Aric to gathering potion ingredients for him in the Forbidden Forest, under the somewhat dubious protection and supervision of Hagrid and Fang. Aric had a sneaking suspicion that Hagrid still held him partially responsible for the death of the Porvora in the exploding Christmas present prank, or at least associated Aric with the death of his little pet even if he hadn't really been responsible for it. He had heard from some of the other students that the Care of Magical Creatures instructor still mourned the loss of the little furball. So he wouldn't have been surprised if Hagrid was half-hoping that he would get eaten by some monster in the forest; actually, it wouldn't surprise him if that had been Snape's intention all along. Snape had been dying to get rid of him ever since he'd started at Hogwarts, and since he'd failed to get Aric expelled, perhaps he was resorting to more drastic measures. Then again, maybe not, because Draco was something of a teacher's pet, unless Snape had gotten fed up with all Malfoy's whining.

Aric was almost disappointed when nothing ate them, after all. At least it would have put him out of his misery. Instead, they suffered nothing more serious than the discomfort of slogging through the slush and mud (winter was only slowly and grudgingly giving way to spring) to gather the herbs and roots that Snape wanted. Draco, of course, complained loudly during their detention, but Aric was grateful that he didn't have to face Takeshi anymore.

Before long, his detention was over and school was letting out for the Easter break, but Aric was not happy, because he knew that he would have to meet his future fiancee and in-laws. However, when he returned home, he received a pleasant surprise.

"Edward was sent on a diplomatic mission to France, and his family went with him," Alison Dietrich sighed. "Unfortunately, that means that the betrothal negotiations will have to wait until he comes back. On the other hand, such an important assignment means that the Minister of Magic holds Edward in high esteem, which bodes well for your future, my son. It's a pity that you didn't get to meet Miranda, though."

Aric was filled with such a profound sense of relief that he nearly fainted. He suddenly wondered if this was a coincidence, or if Lupin had come through for him and pulled some strings on his behalf at the Ministry as he had promised.

His relief must have shown on his face, because his father gave him a wry smile. "I can see how disappointed you are not to meet your bride-to-be," Karl Dietrich said.

Aric grinned sheepishly, and his parents laughed good-naturedly. Buoyed by his reprieve and his parents' good mood, Aric gathered up the courage to make one last appeal to them.

"Listen, Mum, Dad--about the betrothal, nothing's settled yet, right?"

"Not yet," Karl said, giving his son a wary, measuring look. "But the talks have gone well, so far."

Aric took a deep breath, then exhaled and said, "I know I should have talked it over with you before, but I didn't know that you were going to arrange a marriage for me this soon." He tried to keep his voice calm and reasonable; he wanted to sound mature, not like a whining child.

"It was rather unexpected for all of us," Alison said sympathetically. "But the opportunity arose, and we had to take advantage of it right away or risk losing it."

"You see," Aric explained, fighting to keep his voice steady although his heart was pounding with nervousness, "I really want to become a mediwizard." His mother opened her mouth to speak, and Aric quickly continued, "I know you heard about it from Yvonne's mother, and you should have heard it from me first. I'm sorry. I want you to know that this isn't a whim; I've thought long and hard about it. I've got good grades in Potions and Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts--all the required courses for a mediwizard. I got tested by a Healer at St. Mungo's, and he said that I have the Healing Gift, like Rafe. It's a rare gift, and it would be a shame to waste it. The Healer says that I'm guaranteed a job there as long as I do well on my N.E.W.T.s, and that there's plenty of room for advancement--" That last was a bit of an exaggeration, but he needed to throw in something to appease his parents' sense of ambition.

Karl held up a hand, as if to stem his tide of words. "I'm sorry, son," he said quietly. "I did indeed think it was a whim. I didn't realize how badly you wanted to become a mediwizard."

"Then you'll reconsider?" Aric asked hopefully. "About the betrothal and the Ministry position, I mean?"

But his hopes were dashed when Karl shook his head. "I truly am sorry, Aric, but an opportunity like this comes along only once in a lifetime."

"But Father--" Aric cried in a pleading tone, forgetting his resolve to sound mature.

"If you turn down this position," Karl said, "it will likely offend Edward Tierney, and you will never get another chance at a Ministry job."

"But I don't WANT a Ministry job!" Aric pointed out.

Karl glared at his son, his sympathy vanishing. "Depending on how much Tierney's influence grows, not just you, but the entire Dietrich family could be shut out of the Ministry, perhaps for generations. Even if you don't want a Ministry position, maybe someday your sister or your cousins or even your children might want to apply there, and they will find the way barred because you offended a high-ranking official!"

"But surely we could find a way to turn him down without offending him," Aric begged. "Nothing's been finalized yet, you said. Tell him that I had already signed a contract with St. Mungo's before he offered the betrothal, and you didn't know about it. Or--I don't know, surely there must be some excuse you can come up with!"

"Any excuse I could come up with would sound exactly like what it is--an excuse," Karl said impatiently. "No pureblood in his right mind would turn down such an offer, and Edward knows it. And I don't intend to turn it down, even if I could manage to do it without offending him. You must think not just of yourself, my son, but of your family. This alliance is very important to us. We have fallen in status, thanks to our feud with the Notts. Lucius Malfoy shut us out of any position of importance in the British wizarding world. But now that the Death Eaters have fallen, we have a chance to regain what is ours--and more. This alliance is our first step in rebuilding our power, and we need to do it now, before someone else fills the vacuum that Malfoy and his cronies have left behind. If we don't seize this chance now, we might well languish in obscurity, watching our power and wealth gradually diminish until we become like the Zabinis, with nothing left to them but their blood and their name. This is very important, Aric. You are ensuring the future of this family for generations to come."

Aric's first thought, although he did not speak it aloud, was, "Why do I have to sacrifice myself for the generations to come?" And the second was that if their decline in status was due to their feud with the Notts, then maybe his family shouldn't have married Aunt Marta to Thaddeus in the first place. He sulked for a moment, wondering why he should have to pay for his grandparents' error in judgment, when it suddenly occurred to him that if his grandparents were at fault for marrying Marta to Thaddeus, then they were also indirectly responsible for Rafe's death. Which would mean that it wasn't Theo's fault, or at least, not entirely his fault.

That was too staggering a concept for his mind to wrap itself around right now, and he shoved that traitorous thought to the back of his mind, to be dealt with later. He frantically tried to come up with something that would change his father's mind. "Uncle Rafe was a mediwizard," he said, knowing that he was grasping at straws.

"Rafe was the youngest son, not the heir of the family," Karl said sternly. "He did not have the same responsibilities that you and I do." He sighed sadly. "And my parents spoiled him--we all did. We indulged him much more than we should have, let him fill his head with Gryffindor notions of idealism and nobility..."

"Please, Father," Aric said desperately. "Please let me carry on Uncle Rafe's work; I know it would make him happy--" Appealing to a Slytherin's sentimentality was sheer desperation indeed, but there was the slightest chance that it might actually work, if he could invoke Rafe's name and appeal to the soft spot that his father had always had for his younger brother.

But Karl just shook his head, and Alison said soothingly, "There are other ways of honoring your uncle, dear. You know that the Ministry provides some funding and research grants for St. Mungo's. If you work hard, then maybe one day you will be in charge of such funding, and can do far more good at the hospital than you could as a mediwizard. In fact, perhaps you could have them name a wing after Rafe!"

Aric smiled bitterly; that was exactly the response he had expected from his parents, although it was not the one he had hoped for. His mother continued chattering in a bright voice, seemingly oblivious to--or perhaps just ignoring--the expression on his face.

"We could make a donation to St. Mungo's to celebrate your betrothal, once it's finalized. Of course, I don't think that we can afford an entire wing just yet, but we could add a plaque to the wall of donors. A gold plaque, one that says, 'In Memory of Rafe Dietrich'--wouldn't that be nice, dear?"

There was a large display on one wall of the reception area of St. Mungo's to honor the people who made large donations to the hospital, made up of plaques engraved with the names of the donors--or the names of loved ones in whose memory the donations were made. The display was divided up into three sections, as the plaques were made of copper, silver, or gold, depending on the size of the donation. A gold plaque was quite costly, but still, Aric couldn't believe that they were trying to buy him off with a plaque, the way that one might try to pacify a child with a toy or a sweet.

"You don't understand!" Aric shouted in frustration. "This is important to me! I want to actually be able to heal people, not just stick a plaque on a wall!"

"I understand that we made a mistake by spoiling Rafe as a child," a cold voice said.

Aric looked up, startled, and saw that his grandfather had entered the room unnoticed.

"As Karl says," Roderick Dietrich continued, "we indulged Rafe more than we should have, because he was so charming, and the baby of the family. I regret that now, for I see that he has been a bad influence on the younger generation."

"How can you say that?" Aric demanded indignantly. "There's nothing wrong with being a mediwizard; it's an honorable profession!"

"There is nothing wrong with it in and of itself," Roderick said calmly. "But Rafe's choice of it was an unfortunate extension of the Gryffindor altruism he picked up at Hogwarts." He grimaced. "It's my fault. If I had been stricter with him as a child, he would have gone into Slytherin as he should have, and he would not have picked up all those ridiculous Gryffindor ideals--and he would not have done something so monumentally foolish as to confront a Death Eater face-to-face."

Aric stared at his grandfather in shock; Roderick had never openly criticized Rafe before, although he had occasionally sighed and rolled his eyes over his youngest son's Gryffindor ways. But it sounded like he was saying that it was Rafe's own fault that he had been killed, and that was wrong...wasn't it?

"Healing is a respectable profession, yes," Roderick said. "But it does not confer as much honor upon oneself and one's family as a position in the Ministry of Magic would."

"This is my life you're talking about!" Aric exclaimed, unable to contain his frustration any longer. "Don't I have any say in it?"

"No, you do not!" Roderick snapped, his eyes cold and hard. He was no longer the kindly, indulgent grandfather that Aric was familiar with, but the Lord of the Dietrich family. "Being a member of a pureblood family comes with obligations as well as privileges, Aric. I think you have forgotten that. You live in a fine mansion, where everything you need is provided for you: food, clothing, that expensive broomstick you wanted when you joined the Durmstrang Quidditch team, not to mention those fencing lessons that you just had to have." Roderick shook his head slightly. "Another sign of Rafe's influence on you. I should have nipped that in the bud before it started."

"But Grandfather--"

"You lived in comfort, never having to work a day in your life," Roderick continued inexorably, "while there are others in the wizarding world who live in squalor, scrambling to make ends meet. You accepted the wealth, power, and privilege that come with being a Dietrich, and never asked the price. I doubt that it ever occurred to you that there was a price to pay, but I am telling you now that there is, and the price is this: as your family has cared for and provided for you, so in turn will you provide for your family. I loved Rafe, too, but I will not allow you to jeopardize the future of this family on a sentimental whim. You will do your duty to this family. You will marry the Tierney girl and take the Ministry position that her father is offering, or by Merlin, I will disown you, and you will never set foot in this house again!"

Aric stared at his grandfather in shock. He had known, intellectually, that his family would probably disown him if he refused to go through with the marriage alliance, but deep down, he had not truly believed that they would actually do it. He suddenly remembered something that Lupin had said once, when they had been arguing about Theo: "You speak with the self-assurance of someone who has always been loved and protected by his family, Aric." He had always been certain of his family's love; so certain that he had never really thought about it, and had simply taken it for granted. For the first time he realized that maybe they didn't love him quite as much as he--and Lupin--had thought they did.

Alison gasped in shock and dismay, and Karl said tentatively, "Father, surely that's going a little too far--"

"Silence!" Roderick roared, and Aric's parents fell silent. They looked unhappy, but did not try to argue further. Aric knew, with a sickening sense of certainty, that his grandfather was not bluffing, and that his parents would not try to stop him if he followed through on his threat to disown Aric. "I will not coddle or spoil the boy any further!" Roderick turned to glare at Aric. "You are no longer a boy, but a man now, Aric. It is time to step up and do a man's duty." He smiled grimly. "And if you refuse, you will grow up soon enough, because I will throw you out on the street with nothing more than the clothes on your back, and you will learn what it is like to actually have to work for a living. Do you understand me, Aric?"

"Yes, sir," Aric whispered, and fled the room; no one tried to stop him. He ran to his room, slammed the door behind him, and flung himself down on the bed. He curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, shaking with fear and anger and misery. He couldn't stand the thought of working at the Ministry, spending all his time sucking up to the people in power rather than working real magic. He couldn't stand the thought of spending the rest of his life with Miranda Tierney; he already loathed the sight of her face, and he hadn't even met her yet. Unbidden, an image sprang into his mind, not of a girl, but of a young man clad in the lime-green robes that were the uniform of a St. Mungo's worker, with black hair tied back in a long braid that nearly reached his waist. He pictured a face with a cheerful smile and almond-shaped brown eyes framed by gold wire-rimmed glasses.

Aric groaned in despair, unable to deny it any longer. It wasn't just the prospect of a Ministry job that bothered him, and he didn't really hate Miranda. If it hadn't been for Takeshi, he would have tried to make the best of the situation, maybe even tried to befriend his future bride. Aric was no stranger to mischief himself, and at one time, he might have found Miranda's wild reputation a little appealing. But now, he could not imagine his life without the young mediwizard in it, which was strange. They had known each other for several months, and corresponded regularly through letters, but when you added up the time that they had actually spent together in person, it came out to less than three weeks. Surely three weeks was not enough time to fall in love with someone. Surely three weeks was not enough time for someone to get under your skin so deeply that the thought of losing them turned your life upside-down.

But maybe it was not so surprising, after all, Aric admitted to himself after he thought about it for a little while. Takeshi was the only friend he had who truly liked Aric for himself, and not because of his family and his wealth. There was genuine affection between himself and his Durmstrang friends, but Aric knew that they would never have given him the time of day if he had not been a pureblood of a wealthy family. They had first gathered together because their families were of similar rank and political aspirations; friendship had followed later.

But Takeshi didn't care about rank or blood purity or politics. He liked Aric for himself, although only Merlin knew why. He put with Aric in spite of his arrogance and bad moods, for no reason that Aric could see other than friendship. Takeshi owed no obligation to the Dietrich family, and unlike Lupin or Diggory, he had no reason to look after Aric out of a sense of duty and responsibility towards a student. No, Takeshi's friendship was unconditional--a very rare thing in the world of the pureblood nobility. As Aric had just discovered, even the love of his family came with strings attached.

He couldn't bear to lose Takeshi, and he somehow knew without anyone needing to tell him, that he could never ask the mediwizard to become his mistress, or whatever the male equivalent of a mistress was called. He doubted that his friend would ever accept such a role, and besides, he deserved better. He deserved to have a lover that he didn't have to share with a wife. He deserved someone who truly loved him, who wasn't ashamed to be with him in public.

But the thought of Takeshi being with someone else filled him with a jealousy so intense that it physically hurt--a literal ache in his heart, and a pain in his gut, as if someone were tying his intestines into knots. If this was what love was like, Aric wanted no part of it. He had never been in love before. Although he had dallied with both boys and girls at Durmstrang, he had taken care never to get attached to any of them, precisely because he knew that he might be called upon to make a marriage alliance someday. But he had never thought to guard himself against Takeshi, because he had not seemed like a danger. It hadn't been like the poets said; there had been no feelings of sparks or fireworks, no sense of being struck with love at first sight. The mediwizard had quietly wormed his way into Aric's heart, without Aric ever being aware of it until it was too late. He clenched his fists and thought to himself desperately that he did not want to be in love with a boy, someone who was a totally inappropriate romantic partner. He didn't want to be in love with a girl, either, even if he could have magically made himself fall in love with his fiancee. He didn't want to fall in love with anyone if it hurt as badly as this.

But the feelings would not go away, no matter how much he willed them to.

Although Aric could not imagine life without Takeshi, he couldn't imagine life without his family either, to never see his parents and grandparents and sister again, except perhaps to receive a pitying or contemptuous look from them if they chanced to pass each other on the street. He wondered what Erika would think; would she be angry at him, like Grandfather was, or would she be happy if he was disowned, because she would inherit the title with him out of the way? And Grandfather was right; he had relied on his family all his life. Could he really survive and make a living on his own, without help from anyone?

{You would have Takeshi,} he told himself, but maybe he was assuming too much. A brief look of longing and despair had passed between them, but there had been no words spoken, no promises made. What if Takeshi didn't want a permanent lover, didn't want to be saddled with an outcast, disgraced former pureblood heir without a penny to his name? Even if Takeshi really did want him, what if Aric turned out to be totally useless without his family's wealth and name to back him up? What if he became a burden to his lover, and Takeshi got tired of him? Then Aric would have nothing. No--Takeshi was too kind to simply throw him out on the street, but to kept around out of pity, as a charity case, was a fate worse than death.

{I am a coward,} Aric thought miserably. Maybe he wasn't fit to be the Dietrich heir if he didn't have the strength to either resolve to do his duty or make the sacrifices necessary in order to be with the one he loved.

But it wasn't just fear of actually having to work for a living, or at least, not solely fear. He loved his family and he didn't want to lose them. But he didn't want to lose his dearest friend, either, the only person who cared about him simply for himself, and not for what Aric might be able to do for him.

He just didn't know what to do, and he had never felt so alone in all his life. There was no one he could turn to for advice; the person he would have felt most comfortable confiding in--Takeshi--was out for obvious reasons. And just as obviously, he couldn't confide in his family, either. He had no friends at Hogwarts, and his friends at Durmstrang wouldn't understand; they would regard him with disbelief or disgust if they knew that he was even contemplating giving up a Ministry position, not to mention his entire inheritance, for a male lover. Then he remembered that Lupin had often tried to befriend him, but the werewolf was not a pureblood or a Slytherin. He had been a pauper before Dumbledore had given him a job at Hogwarts, and he wouldn't understand what it was like to be torn between love and duty, to risk losing not just your family, but your name, rank, and inheritance.

Then it occurred to Aric that there were two people at Hogwarts who had been faced with the same choice and probably knew exactly what he was going through: Snape and Theo. Snape had already been disowned once, and had defied the entire wizarding world by taking Lupin openly as his lover. And Theo had risked disgrace by kissing Blaise in front of everyone at the Yule Ball in order to prove his love for the other boy.

He wanted to ask Snape what it had been like to lose his family and rank and inheritance, everything that made a pureblood noble what he was. He wanted to ask Snape how he had survived alone and in disgrace, for nearly two decades. He wanted to ask Theo why he had given up the Nott name and inheritance to become a Snape; he no longer thought it was because of greed and ambition, as he had first assumed. He wanted to ask Theo if he had been afraid of being disowned when he had kissed Blaise at the Ball. He wanted to ask Snape and Theo how they had kept Lady Selima from repudiating both of them when she found out. He wanted to ask them how they managed to bear the insults and snide jokes and malicious gossip. He wanted to know how they found the courage to be open about whom they loved.

But why should his cousin help him, after the way Aric had treated him? Aric flushed with shame, remembering how he had sneered at Theo and called him a queer. He had lashed out at his cousin, he now realized, because he had seen something in Theo that he had recognized in himself. He hadn't wanted to admit to himself that he might want something more serious than "fun" from another guy. He hadn't wanted to admit to himself that he might be attracted to Takeshi, specifically. Because Takeshi was not the kind of person you could use for a night's pleasure and then forget about, like the boys he had fooled around with at Durmstrang.

Aric didn't hate or despise Theo because he was gay; he was jealous because Theo wasn't afraid to admit to everyone what he was. He had hated Theo for causing Rafe's death, but now he was no longer sure that it was really Theo's fault. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. He wished, for the first time, that he and Theo had not been enemies, so that he could have had at least one friend to confide in.

Aric laughed bitterly at himself; how typically Slytherin of him, to want to befriend someone only when that person had something that he wanted. He probably deserved Theo's contempt. And even if Aric hadn't already been in trouble with the Potions Master over getting caught drinking on the Astronomy Tower, Snape wouldn't want to help him after Aric had repeatedly insulted his son, not to mention called Snape himself a "Death Eater pervert".

Aric lay on his bed, weeping softly, feeling utterly miserable. He didn't know how long he lay there crying, but it must have been hours, because eventually he noticed that his eyes and throat were sore, and the sunlight outside the window was fading to dusk. A short time later his mother came and knocked lightly on the door, saying, "Dinnertime, Aric." When Aric didn't respond, she said in a worried voice, "Please, dear, you must come and eat something."

Aric just lay there silently on the bed, and he heard his father say in a gruff but not unkind voice, "Let the boy be, dear. Missing one meal won't kill him."

"But he's a growing boy," Alison protested, her voice and her footsteps fading away down the hall. Eventually, Aric drifted off into an uneasy sleep haunted by restless dreams. He dreamed of himself and Erika and Theo playing together as children, and of Rafe, gently scolding them for fighting with each other. He dreamed that he was standing on the street with his family, and they all turned their backs on him and walked away as he begged them to stop. He dreamed that he was standing at the altar with Miranda, about to be wed. He turned and looked back down the aisle, and saw Takeshi standing there, smiling at him sadly. "I wish you joy in your life, Aric," he said, then turned and walked away, ignoring the hand that Aric stretched out towards him.

"No, don't go!" Aric cried, then he woke suddenly and sat up in bed, drenched in sweat. He cast a cleaning spell on his pajamas to dry them out, then paced around the room, trying to settle his nerves before he went back to sleep; he did not want any more dreams like the ones he'd just had. As he paced, he suddenly noticed that someone had left a plate of sandwiches just inside the bedroom door; either his father or his mother must have brought it while he was sleeping. Aric had been a mischievous child, and had been sent to bed without his supper many times as punishment for some prank he'd pulled, or for fighting with one of his playmates. But one of his parents would usually relent and secretly bring him a snack late at night. Once, both his mother and his father had brought him food--at different times, unbeknownst to the other. Aric stared at the plate and burst into tears at that simple sign of affection, at that reminder of happier times during his childhood, when he had been absolutely certain of his place in the world.

Chapter 122

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