Aftermaths, Part 125

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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The Quidditch season resumed when school started again; the following weekend, Gryffindor played against Hufflepuff. The teachers were on alert; Madam Pomfrey stood by to deal with possible injuries; and at the school governors' request, the Ministry sent Aurors to supervise the match and watch for trouble. Dawlish and Williamson sat in the stands with the teachers, occasionally looking up to glare at Tonks and Kingsley, who patrolled the skies above the Pitch on their broomsticks.

Gryffindor soon pulled ahead by twenty points, but everyone knew that the match would almost certainly be decided by the Seekers. Tristan circled the Pitch, a look of intense concentration on his face, ignoring both the Aurors overhead and the shouts of encouragement from the Hufflepuff spectators. Then the Snitch appeared, and the crowd began shouting wildly as Harry and Tristan raced after it, following the Snitch as it swooped up and down, and kept changing direction from left to right without any warning.

"Ames-Diggory is keeping up with Potter, staying right on his tail!" Dennis Creevey shouted excitedly from the announcer's booth. "Quite impressive, really, considering that Potter is flying a Firebolt! This could be a very close game! Will the new Hufflepuff Seeker upset Gryffindor's champion?"

The two Seekers were so intent on their pursuit that they forgot to watch for the Bludgers. "Look out, Tristan!" Zacharias Smith, one of the Hufflepuff Chasers, shouted, but it was too late. The Gryffindor Bludger slammed into Tristan's right arm, and he screamed in pain as he felt his arm break with a sharp, cracking sound.

Harry abruptly pulled up and asked anxiously, "Are you all right?"

Tristan ignored him, continuing to chase after the Snitch, even though his arm was dangling uselessly at his side. Madam Hooch was shouting at him to stop, but he ignored her, too. He drew closer to the Snitch and reached out with his left hand, which meant that he had to release his hold on the broomstick handle, since his right hand was unable to grasp anything. Gripping the broomstick with only his legs, he grabbed at the Snitch, but it was a little quicker than he had anticipated, and he stretched too far forward and lost his balance. He managed to keep one knee hooked over the broomstick, but he probably would have fallen if Harry had not grabbed him just then and helped him regain his seat on the broom.

"What the hell are you doing, you idiot?" Tristan growled, angry that he'd been rescued by his rival, the boy responsible for Cedric's death. "Why aren't you chasing the bloody Snitch? You could win the game easily, with my arm like this."

"There are some things more important than winning a game!" Harry retorted, looking just as angry. "Do you think your life is worth a stupid Quidditch trophy?!"

Tristan was taken aback for a moment by the other boy's vehemence. Then he hissed, "What do you care about my life? You let my cousin die!"

Harry instantly turned white, looking guilty and grief-stricken. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You're right, it is my fault that Cedric died. If I hadn't insisted that we take the Cup together, he wouldn't have been killed."

Tristan was startled by the guilt and remorse on Harry's face and in his voice. His resolve wavered slightly, and he firmly reminded himself that he hated the Gryffindor boy. "So you're sorry--is that supposed to make me feel better?" Tristan demanded.

Harry shook his head. "No, I know that an apology won't bring Cedric back and I don't expect you to forgive me. But I can't just keep playing Quidditch when you're in danger. I know it doesn't make up for what I did to Cedric, but I can't just let his cousin fall and maybe break his neck while I go chase a stupid Snitch!"

"I don't need you to protect me, Potter!" Tristan retorted, but he felt more confused than angry.

Madam Hooch and the other players had gathered around them by now. "You should not blame Mr. Potter for your cousin's death, Mr. Ames-Diggory," Hooch said firmly. "And you should not blame yourself, Mr. Potter. The person who is truly responsible is You-Know..." Hooch paused and took a deep breath. "Lord Voldemort killed Cedric, along with countless others, and he has paid with his life. Your cousin has already been avenged by Mr. Potter, Tristan. Let Cedric's memory rest in peace."

"It's not Harry's fault," Zacharias told Tristan gently. "He didn't know that the Death Eaters had turned the Triwizard Cup into a Portkey; no one did. I saw it from the stands; he saved Cedric from the giant spider, and Cedric would have let him claim the trophy alone. He could have taken all the glory for himself, but he wanted to play fair, so they claimed the Cup together." Harry looked a little surprised by Zacharias's defense of him, and the Hufflepuff boy smiled. "I admit, I had my doubts about you at first, Potter, but you've more than proven yourself to me since then. I know you saved us all from You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters."

Harry looked embarrassed by the praise. "Cedric and I were competing against each other in the Tournament, but he treated me like a friend, not a rival," Harry said quietly, turning to Tristan. "He helped me out in a tough spot, because I had helped him once before. He was...honorable and brave." Tears filled Harry's eyes. "If I could trade places with him and bring him back, I would!"

"Now, now, Mr. Potter," Hooch said kindly, "you know that's impossible. Besides, do you really think that's what Cedric would have wanted, for a friend to die in his place?"

Tristan had never considered that question before. But when he thought about it, he had to reluctantly agree that his cousin had been too noble to willingly let a friend sacrifice his life for him. And he had not thought that Harry would still feel guilt over Cedric's death; he had assumed that the Boy Who Lived was basking in his glory as the Savior of the Wizarding World and had long forgotten about Cedric, but maybe he had been wrong about that.

"Come, Mr. Ames-Diggory," Hooch said, interrupting his thoughts. "You cannot safely play in this condition. Madam Pomfrey needs to tend to your injury."

"We cannot play without a Seeker," the Hufflepuff captain said. "We will concede the match to Gryffindor."

"But--" Harry started to protest.

The captain and the other Hufflepuff team members smiled. "Tristan was injured during normal game play," the captain said. "It's an unfortunate accident, but it's one of the risks of the game. Of course we wanted to win, but it's a fair result, and we accept it. And Tristan's life is worth far more to us than any Quidditch victory. You have our gratitude, Harry, for saving him." The other Hufflepuffs nodded and added their own thanks.

Tristan felt touched by his teammates' concern, and a little irked that he owed his life to Potter--maybe. He was fairly certain that Hooch or one of the teachers would have been able to rescue him before he hit the ground, but he couldn't deny that Harry had helped him. Feeling confused and very subdued, he allowed himself to be led back down to the ground to see Madam Pomfrey.
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"Does the boy have to be a bloody martyr?" Snape asked irritably as he watched from the stands. "Is he going to rescue someone from the opposite team in every single match Gryffindor plays?"

"It's not Harry's fault, Severus," Lupin said patiently. "Would you rather he have let Dylan or Tristan fall?"

"Well, not Dylan, anyway," Snape conceded.

"Severus!"

Snape chuckled at the outrage in Lupin's voice. "All right, all right, I suppose I don't want to see the Hufflepuff brat break his neck, either. At least I don't have to worry about Draco trying to play the noble hero."

"Are you sure about that, Sev?" Lupin teased. "He did break off chasing the Snitch to help Dylan and Theo, after all."

"Stop trying to corrupt my Slytherins with your Gryffindor ideals," Snape said, glaring at the werewolf. "Draco is a good Slytherin; he knew that it wouldn't be wise to let his Head of House's sons fall to their deaths. It was pure expediency and self-preservation."

"I'm sure," Lupin said skeptically.

"But just to be on the safe side, I'm going to tell Malfoy that if someone from the other team falls off their broom, he'd better keep chasing after the damned Snitch."

"Severus!" Lupin cried, and Snape grinned wickedly at him, feeling pleased that he'd gotten a rise out of his lover. The werewolf spent so much time teasing Snape, that he felt a bit of satisfaction at getting some of his own back.

"You're just baiting me," Lupin accused.

"That's right," Snape purred. "You Gryffindors always were a bit slow on the uptake."

Lupin glared at him for a moment, then gave in and laughed. "You're a devious bastard, but I love you anyway."

"Don't say that in public, Lupin."

"What, 'devious bastard'?"

"You know damn well what I mean."

Lupin chuckled, then leaned over and whispered in a sultry voice, "Then perhaps we should go somewhere more private, where I can say whatever I please to you."

Snape's pale face turned red. "Bloody hormonal werewolf," he grumbled under his breath. "I can't believe the full moon is coming up again so quickly." Lupin just smiled at him, a very sensual and inviting smile, his blue eyes half-lidded and glassy with lust.

The Potions Master and the werewolf hastily departed from the stands and headed back to the castle as Dawlish and Williamson watched with distasteful looks on their faces. "Perverts," Williamson muttered disgustedly.

The other teachers gave the two Aurors hostile looks, and the Aurors glared back at them defiantly. Dumbledore rose to his feet and said in a voice that was polite but lacking any warmth, "Thank you for coming, gentlemen, but as you can see, the game is over and your presence is no longer required." Dawlish and Williamson got up and left without another word.
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One day after school let out, Lupin took the Floo to the clinic to see Takeshi. "Hello, Remus," the mediwizard said with a smile as he stirred a cauldron of Wolfsbane Potion. He stared past Lupin, as if expecting to see someone following behind the werewolf. "No students serving detention today?" he asked lightly.

"No," Lupin replied, his expression solemn. "I came to see you today."

"I see," Takeshi said, the smile fading from his face. He stood there for a moment, just staring at Lupin, then went over and closed the door. The bitter fumes of the simmering potion became stronger with the door shut, but both men ignored them. Takeshi resumed stirring the potion and asked, "What do you want, Remus?"

"You know about Aric's betrothal," Lupin said.

"Yes," Takeshi replied in an emotionless voice.

"He's very confused and upset."

"I know," Takeshi said without looking up from the cauldron.

"He loves you."

"I know," Takeshi repeated.

"And you love him," Lupin persisted.

"That isn't really any of your business, Remus," Takeshi said in a gentle voice that softened the bluntness of his words. "But yes, I do."

"Then you have to tell him!" Lupin exclaimed in frustration.

"He already knows," Takeshi said flatly.

"Aric is a little dense, Takeshi. Even if it seems obvious to you, you still might have to spell it out for him..."

"He's not as dense as you think, Remus. He knows; I saw it in his eyes. But it changes nothing."

"But--" Lupin started to protest.

"Remus," Takeshi said, beginning to sound a little impatient, "I know you mean well, but you know that Aric's family would disown him if he became involved with me."

"It isn't right, what they're doing to him!" Lupin cried, his voice filled with anger, although it was directed against the Dietriches, not Takeshi. "It's reprehensible, to emotionally blackmail their own child that way!"

"I agree, Remus," Takeshi said quietly. "But if I ask him to give up his family for me, how does that make me any better than them?"

"It's not the same thing," Lupin argued. "You're not the one forcing him to make the choice."

"It amounts to the same thing, Remus," Takeshi replied. "I know that his family will disown him if we become lovers. So in essence, I would be asking him to choose me over his family, and I will not do that."

"But he loves you," Lupin said helplessly.

"I know," Takeshi said, smiling sadly. "But love isn't always enough. Western and Asian literature is full of tragic tales of thwarted romance. I admit that I've enjoyed reading some of those tales, but it's another thing entirely to find yourself living one out."

"But..." Lupin said, his voice trailing off as he was unable to come up with any convincing arguments.

"This is a decision that Aric has to make on his own," Takeshi said. "If he decides to choose me, then I will welcome him with open arms, but to be honest, I don't think that he will. He loves his family too much. I can understand how he feels; if I were in his position, I don't think that I would be able to give up my family for him."

"If they really loved him, they wouldn't force him to make such a choice!" Lupin said angrily.

"I know," Takeshi said softly, "and I think that is why he will stay with them. If he calls their bluff and they disown him, then he'll be forced to acknowledge that they do not love him the way he thought that they did. But if he obeys them and goes through with the marriage, then everything can go back to the way it was, and he will be part of a loving family once again."

"But the whole thing would be a charade," Lupin whispered, feeling a little sick. "And he would know it."

Takeshi gave him an almost pitying smile. "You have been with Professor Snape long enough to understand that most of Slytherin pureblood society is a carefully arranged charade, Remus. Or at least, you should have realized that by now."

"I guess I'm the one who's a bit dense," Lupin said ruefully. "I'm sorry, Takeshi. I wanted to help, but you've already thought things through, and I've probably made you feel worse without doing any good. Severus is always scolding me for meddling in other people's affairs."

"I don't hold it against you, Remus," Takeshi said. "It is in a Gryffindor's nature to meddle, I suppose, as it is in a Slytherin's to scheme, or a Ravenclaw's to reason things out logically. And if you'll pardon my saying so, you Gryffindors tend to see things as black and white when sometimes there is no right answer."

"Ouch," Lupin said, wincing. "I suppose I deserve that. Branwen has said the same thing to Sirius often enough, but I never thought it applied to me. But you're right; I keep wanting to fix things and make a happy ending come about..."

"You helped the Order of the Phoenix bring about a happy ending for the wizarding world by defeating the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters," Takeshi told him. "And you gave Theodore and Dylan a happy ending by giving them a family--and you helped reunite Professor Snape with his family. I think that's more than enough for one man to do, Remus. It's not your job to create a happy ending for every person in the wizarding world."

"No," Lupin said sadly, "but you are my friend and Aric is my student, and I wish I could make you both happy."

"My mother told me many fairy tales when I was a child," Takeshi said quietly. "Not all of them had happy endings. I love Aric, and I want him to do whatever will make him most happy, even if it means that I will lose him."

"You love him more than his family does, then," Lupin sighed. "I apologize for my meddling, Takeshi."

"You were trying to be a good friend, Remus. I thank you for your concern. But I really must get back to this potion; it will be ruined if I neglect it much longer..."

Lupin took the hint and returned to Hogwarts, feeling chastened, ashamed, and incredibly frustrated. He wanted so badly to be able to help Aric and Takeshi, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do. He should have known better than to meddle, especially after Severus's last warning, but he hated seeing the two of them so miserable. In spite of his talk with Lukas at the party, Aric had seemed as torn and unhappy as ever since returning to school. Takeshi had said that he wanted Aric to choose whatever would make him happiest, but Lupin feared that it wasn't so much a question of what would make him most happy, but rather, which choice would cause the least misery.
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The following week, Lukas was back in Courtroom Ten, being interrogated by Lamont Whitby, who was questioning his ability to run the Diggory estate.

"You may have Diggory blood," the lawyer argued, "but there is more to being the head of a family than simply having the right name and bloodline. The Diggory estate consists of a considerable amount of money and property, and you have no experience in managing such things."

"Was there a question in there somewhere?" Lukas asked sarcastically.

Whitby's face flushed with anger, but Madam Bones interrupted before he could speak. "Do you have any experience in managing such things, then, Master Diggory?" she asked politely.

She was obviously expecting a "no," but to the surprise of nearly everyone in the courtroom, Lukas replied, "In a way, I already have some experience in being the head of a large family."

"Please explain, Master Diggory," Bones said, looking intrigued.

"As you know," Lukas said, "over the years, I have organized the majority of the werewolves in England into a pack." He added a little pointedly, "The same pack that fought against the Death Eaters in the final battle." Whitby and Amos glared at him, but Bones merely nodded and motioned for him to continue. "I am the leader of that pack--the head, if you will, of a clan of werewolves." Whitby sneered, but Bones looked thoughtful. "It was my job," Lukas continued, "to keep them fed and safe and sheltered. I have been responsible for organizing food and housing for anywhere from five to fifty werewolves at a time. It was difficult for werewolves to find employment up until recently, so we all pooled our resources together, and I was the one who distributed them evenly, so that the entire pack was cared for. Sometimes we all went a little hungry, but no one ever starved."

"Very noble of you, I'm sure," Whitby said in a condescending tone, "but I'm not convinced that your skills would carry over into managing the Diggory estate."

"Madam Bones, if I may?" Morrigan asked, rising to her feet, and Bones nodded at her. "Let us ask Master Diggory how he would run the estate if it were in his care. That should answer Mr. Whitby's concerns."

A very faint smile crept into Bone's stern expression. "Well then, Master Diggory?" she prompted.

Without hesitation, Lukas began listing the Diggory assets, in much greater detail than Whitby had thought he was aware of, judging by his pop-eyed expression. Then he began describing business investments he would make to increase the family finances, and suggested selling or renting a couple of properties which were currently unused or unprofitable.

A collective murmur of surprise and confusion buzzed through the room, among both the Wizengamot and the spectators. Lukas waited patiently while the Wizengamot consulted with each other, obviously trying to decide whether his suggestions were sound or not; most of the purebloods didn't have much of a head for business. Percy Weasley seemed to, though, because he gave Lukas a startled and respectful look, then began speaking earnestly to his father and Madam Bones.

Finally, the discussion came to an end and Bones rapped her gavel on her desk to indicate that the trial was resuming. "Master Diggory's ability to run the estate does not appear to be in question," she declared. "In fact, the Diggory finances would likely be better off if his suggestions were implemented."

"I object!" Whitby shouted. "Those aren't his words, but Selima Snape's!" He turned to glare at Lukas. "Lady Selima coached you beforehand, didn't she? Everyone knows that she comes from a prominent merchant family!"

"Lady Selima is a longtime friend and ally of my parents," Lukas replied calmly. "There is no reason why I should not ask her for a little business advice."

"The Snapes seek to control the Diggory estate through you!" Whitby shouted dramatically, pointing his finger at Lukas.

Lukas fought down the urge to growl, and smiled at Whitby with a patronizing air, the way one might smile at a child who has just said something amusingly foolish. "I am no one's puppet," he said. "I would not bow to Lord Voldemort, and I will not bow to Lady Snape--although personally, I find Lady Snape much more intimidating than You-Know-Who." The courtroom burst into laughter, and Bones pounded her gavel to restore order. "It is common for the pureblood families to make financial and political alliances, and I think it would be to the Diggory family's benefit to ally with such an old and respected family as the Snapes. Lady Selima might give me advice from time to time, but I shall be the one to decide whether or not I shall follow that advice." In a quiet but passionate voice he added, "I swear on my father's name that I will do nothing to disgrace that name."

Many of the spectators and Wizengamot members looked impressed by his speech. Whitby, looking angry and defeated, had no further questions, so Bones adjourned court for the day, with the trial to resume the following week.
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After the trial, Lukas went to the clinic to meet Ash for lunch. While he did love his pack, he couldn't help but feel that it was a poor substitute for his after-court trysts with Narcissa. When he arrived at the clinic, he found the other werewolf gloating happily over a bagful of Muggle devices while Takeshi watched with a look of amusement on his face.

"Look, Lukas!" Ash said, the cynical, scar-faced werewolf sounding as eager as a child with a new toy. "Takeshi's brother sent him a bunch of new video games for me! Most of them come out in Japan first before they're released here..."

Lukas smiled and shook his head, watching Ash manipulate the buttons of a hand-held game device as two cartoon characters battled each other on the tiny screen. "Can you even read or speak Japanese, Ash?"

"Not really," the werewolf said with a shrug. "Though I've played enough of these things to pick up a few words here and there. But you see, there are only a few buttons and controls on the device, which means that there are a limited number of combinations that can be used as game commands. It only takes a brief period of time to experiment and figure them all out. Besides, if I really get stumped, I can always ask Takeshi to translate the instructions for me."

"Are you planning to play with those things or sell them?" Lukas asked wryly.

Ash switched off the device with a little sigh and said, "Sell them, of course. But since most of my customers don't understand Japanese, I have to play the games first in order to figure out the instructions and commands for them."

"Of course," Lukas said, a bit skeptically.

"Besides," Ash added practically, "this way I can charge them extra for providing the instructions."

Lukas scratched his head in bewilderment. "Why on earth do they want to play games that they can't understand?"

"Because it's 'cool' to have the newest, hottest games that no one else in England has," Ash explained. "It's like getting the latest model of a racing broomstick before anyone else does. And there's the added furtive thrill of owning Muggle technology. I assure you, I can get a premium price for these games."

Lukas shook his head. "I'll take your word for it, Ash. I never quite understood the appeal of those games to begin with."

"They're actually kind of fun," Ash said cheerfully. "Probably a dreadful waste of time for kids who are supposed to be studying for their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s, though. I'll give you your cut after I sell these, Takeshi."

The mediwizard winced. "Please don't call it my 'cut,' Ash. I'm not a smuggler; I'm only getting a few toys for a friend as a favor. Just pay me back what they originally cost, and I'll pay back my brother."

"That's a matter of semantics," Lukas told him.

"Call it what you will, Lukas," Takeshi said loftily. "I'm merely giving Ash some toys. It's none of my business what he does with them afterwards."

Lukas laughed. "We're going to get some lunch; did you want to come with us?"

"No, thank you," Takeshi replied. "My mother sent over some food earlier; she's always worried that I'm not getting enough to eat. I need to finish up some paperwork here, and then I have a shift at St. Mungo's."

"All right," Lukas said. "Try not to work too hard."

"I'm fine," Takeshi said. "I prefer to keep busy these days."

Lukas knew that probably meant that he was pulling extra shifts in order to try and keep his mind off of Aric. He and Ash exchanged a brief, significant look, then said goodbye to Takeshi and left the clinic.

"So what is that idiot pureblood boy going to do?" Ash growled as they walked down the street together.

"You know about all that, then?" Lukas asked. Ash had formed a suprisingly close friendship with the mediwizard, considering that Ash despised most humans. But he had gradually warmed up to Takeshi after he had worked at the clinic for awhile, and when he had discovered that the young Japanese wizard was not only familiar with Muggle devices, but actually had access to a steady supply of them in Japan through his brother, that had seemed to clinch their friendship. Ash took an almost childlike delight in Muggle technology in spite of--or perhaps because of--the fact that he had never had much of a real childhood growing up.

"Yes," Ash replied in a gruff voice. "You never should have brought that kid to the clinic in the first place."

"Believe me, I wasn't trying to play matchmaker," Lukas retorted. "I never dreamed that anything like this could have happened, considering the boy's typical pureblood prejudices. He's not really so bad, though. I think he's trying to work up the nerve to stand up to his family, but..." Lukas sighed sadly. "I don't know if he'll succeed. For him, it's as if he's trying to go up against his pack."

"I know," Ash said. "Takeshi explained it to me. But his pack leader is not a good one, to force the boy to make such a choice."

Lukas smiled at him, looking quizzical and a bit concerned. "I heard rumors that you were trying to mend our young mediwizard's broken heart. It caused some gossip when the two of you left the party together."

Ash shook his head. "To comfort him, is all. I like him. Maybe under different circumstances, I could have loved him, but..." He smiled wistfully. "I never believed in all that mating for life stuff, you know, although most of the pack believes that their perfect soulmate is out there somewhere. I think it's Lupin's and Snape's influence--that unbelievable romance between a werewolf and a pureblood former Death Eater. Anyway, Takeshi isn't a wolf, but...it seems that boy is meant to be his mate. No matter what happens, I don't think he will ever be able to give his heart to another."

"Lord, what fools we mortals be," Lukas muttered under his breath.

"Huh?" Ash asked.

"Nothing," Lukas sighed. "Just misquoting Shakespeare. Where do you want to eat?"

"What about the Leaky Cauldron?"

"No!" Lukas said sharply; he didn't need any more reminders of Narcissa.

Ash gave him a shrewd look, but didn't press him on it. "We could go to the Sakura, but then Haruko will probably ask us how Takeshi is doing..."

Lukas grimaced. "Yes, I'd rather not face his mother right now. Somehow I have the feeling that she's very good at detecting lies."

"There's a nice little cafe near the Magical Menagerie that just opened a few weeks ago," Ash suggested. "Nothing fancy--mainly sandwiches, tea, and coffee, but it's cheap and the food's good."

"Sounds good," Lukas said. "We can stop by and visit Kyra at the Menagerie afterwards."
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Meanwhile, at Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, a wizard showed up at the door dragging a huge crate behind him with a levitation spell; he looked to be in his mid-thirties, but he had a cheerful, boyish face. His robes were torn, patched, and stained, and there were numerous bruises and scratches visible on his face and arms, but he was grinning proudly.

"Mr. Jigger!" the wizard called. "Look what I've brought you!"

"Good Lord, Davy!" Jigger exclaimed in surprise. "I thought you were still recovering from that Erumpent attack!"

Davy Gudgeon, who was known more for his bravery than his wits, waved his hand airily. "Oh, I always heal up quickly. The Healers at St. Mungo's say it's something of a miracle."

Jigger privately thought the real miracle was that Davy had managed to live long enough to reach his thirties, considering his dangerous occupation and his lack of common sense. But all he said was, "So what did you bring me today, Davy?"

"An entire Graphorn," Davy said proudly.

"That's a big box," Jigger said, eyeing the crate dubiously, "but it doesn't look big enough to hold a Graphorn."

"It's a half-grown one," Davy explained. "That's how I was able to kill it so easily--well, relatively easily."

"Well, that explains why you're still alive," Jigger said wryly. "Hmm, I don't think that crate is going to fit through the door." Although it was just a few inches wider than the doorway, no matter how Davy tried to tilt it or maneuver it, the crate would not quite fit.

"I'll take it out of the crate," Davy finally said. "I should be able to fit the body through the door since it's smaller than the crate. I considered just taking the horns, but it seemed like a waste. I know the hide is valuable, but I didn't have anything sharp enough to skin it--I broke three knives on it. And I thought the blood and organs might be worth something."

"I'm sure I can find a buyer for them," Jigger said. "Professor Snape will be delighted to hear that I was able to obtain not just powdered horn, but an entire Graphorn. He enjoys experimenting with new ingredients."

Davy removed the lid from the crate, and Jigger examined the animal inside curiously, running his hand along its side. "Why, it seems freshly-killed!" he exclaimed in surprise. "The body is still warm!"

Davy smiled smugly. "I put a stasis spell on it to keep it from spoiling."

"Good," Jigger said approvingly. "We can get maximum use out of all the parts. Well, take it out of there and bring it inside."

Davy took out his wand and levitated the creature out of the crate. It was a grayish-purple beast the size of a large pony, with a humped back, a pair of very long and sharp horns, and large, four-thumbed feet. As he steered it towards the doorway, the body began to twitch. "What the--!" Davy exclaimed, so startled that he cut off the spell and let the Graphorn drop to the ground.

"You fool!" screamed Jigger. "It wasn't dead--it was just stunned, and now your stasis spell is wearing off!"

"B-b-but it wasn't breathing!" Davy stammered. "I thought it was dead! It has to be dead!"

"Does it look dead, you idiot?!" Jigger shouted as the Graphorn slowly lurched to its feet, looking dazed. The Apothecary reached for his wand, but it was too late. The Graphorn took off running down the street.
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Rita Skeeter and her photographer, Bozo, had been covering Lukas's trial for the Daily Prophet. They were enjoying a little refreshment at Fortescue's afterwards, when they heard a commotion coming from outside the store. Rita's eyes gleamed eagerly, and she said, "Grab your camera, Bozo, and let's see what's going on out there."

Chapter 126

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