Aftermaths, Part 55

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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Things at school went smoothly for the next few weeks, at least on the surface. The R.A. continued to quietly observe the Slytherins, and while there were no more pranks in Gryffindor House, a handful of students continued to snub Allegra and Portia, and occasionally muttered nasty remarks under their breath--out of earshot of Allegra, though, as her Rat-Face Hex had left a strong impression on her housemates.

"It figures that someone from a Slytherin family would be good at casting hexes," Dean muttered. Seamus ignored him, as they still weren't speaking to each other. He spent a lot of time hanging around Lavender, and when she wasn't available, with Harry and Ron or Neville.

"You guys are best friends--shouldn't you make up?" Hermione urged.

"Not until he apologizes to me," Seamus said stubbornly.

Meanwhile, Dean spent most of his free time with his girlfriend Susan and her friends, and when he was in the Gryffindor common room, he hung out with Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke, the Gryffindor beaters.

Harry was worried, not just because two of his friends weren't speaking to each other, but also because of the effect it was having on the Quidditch team. One day in practice, Seamus missed scoring a goal when he refused to pass the Quaffle to Dean.

"That's it!" Harry shouted. "I've had it with you two! If you guys want to hate each other, be my guest, but keep your petty quarrels off the Quidditch Pitch! We might as well just hand the trophy over to Slytherin at this rate!"

"Sorry, Harry," the two boys mumbled, looking shamefaced.

"I mean it," Harry said sternly. "Screw up one more time, and I'm replacing you with the reserve players, and you can sit out our first match on the bench!"

The reserve players brightened when they heard that; they normally didn't get a chance to play in a real game unless one of the regular team members was injured. "Oh yes, please screw up," one of them muttered under his breath, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

Seamus and Dean both looked alarmed, and promised to leave their arguments off the Pitch. For the most part they succeeded; they passed the Quaffle to each other when necessary, but there was still an air of tension between them that worried Harry. The team just didn't feel like a team when two of the members weren't speaking to each other except when absolutely necessary. Even if they were cooperating on the Pitch, that sense of teamwork and unity was missing.

"Don't worry about it, Harry," Ron said in an attempt to comfort him. "As long as you catch the Snitch, everything will be okay. It won't matter if Dean and Seamus miss a few goals."

"You're missing the point, Ron," Harry sighed, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.
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The full moon came and went without incident: Snape, Lupin, Dylan, and Theodore spent the night together in Snape's quarters, and since it was a weekend, Lukas left Hogwarts to spend the full moon with his pack. He returned the next day, looking happier and more relaxed than he had at any time since beginning his teaching job.

One Friday, about three weeks after Professor Blackmore's class performed their Summonings, Snape was lecturing his seventh-year Advanced Potions class when Dumbledore entered the classroom, looking very grave.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Severus," the Headmaster said, "but this just arrived for you, and I thought I should give it to you right away." He held out an envelope that had a wide, flat black ribbon wrapped around it, and Snape's sallow face turned even paler than usual, and his hand trembled a little as he reached out to take the letter.

Harry watched as Snape slowly removed the ribbon and broke the seal of red wax on the envelope. He noticed that the Slytherins, particularly Theodore and Draco, looked very concerned, except for Aric, who looked interested but not particularly worried. Harry leaned over and hissed, "Draco! What's wrong?"

Draco turned to him and said, "Don't you know anything, Potter?" But his snide tone of voice seemed only perfunctory; his gray eyes immediately flickered back to Snape, who was now reading the letter, and he said in a distracted tone, "The black ribbon means it's a death announcement."

Hermione nodded, looking equally concerned. "He's right, Harry; I read about it in The Book of Wizard Etiquette. And I only know of one person close to the Professor who was dying..."

"Then that means..." Harry's voice trailed off. Everyone in the school knew that Snape's father was dying, thanks to the Howler his mother had sent. Even though he had hated Snape at one time, and even now could not exactly say that he liked the Potions Master despite the fact that they had reached a truce of sorts, Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for Snape. He had lost his own parents, of course, and even though they had died when he was a baby, sometimes he still felt a sense of emptiness and grief, not so much because he missed them--he had never really known them, after all, and had no memories of them except for their dying screams and the glimpse he had seen of them in Snape's pensieve--but because he would never have a chance to get to know them. He knew that Snape had been estranged from his family for many years, so he probably wasn't close to his father, but Harry didn't know if that made things easier or harder. Probably harder, Harry decided. There were so many things Harry wanted to ask his own father, like why he had played such cruel pranks on Snape when he was younger, and if he had ever felt remorse about it when he got older. Maybe there were questions Snape wanted to ask his father that would now go forever unanswered; maybe he regretted not mending things with his family sooner.

Snape just stood there, staring at the letter in his hand. His face was still white, and he seemed to be in shock; his black eyes looked dazed and unfocused.

When Snape still had not moved a few minutes later, Theodore rose to his feet and said hesitantly, "F-Father...?" All the students turned and stared at him in surprise, their attention momentarily diverted away from the Professor. Even though they knew that Snape had adopted Theodore, they had never heard him address Snape as "Father" before.
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"F-Father...?" Theodore stammered, and Snape looked up to see his son staring at him, green eyes filled with concern. It was the first time Theodore had called him "Father" outside of Snape Manor, and under other circumstances, it might have made him happy. But Snape realized that he must look pretty bad for Theodore, who usually avoided attracting attention to himself, to be calling him "Father" in front of the entire class.

"Are...are you all right?" Theodore asked, and Snape attempted to pull himself together and fix his usual arrogant mask on his face. Theodore still looked worried, so he wasn't sure if he had entirely succeeded.

"I'm fine, Theodore," Snape said briskly, shoving the letter into his pocket. "Lord Severin has died, which is of course no surprise, considering how ill he was, although I didn't expect it to happen quite this soon."

"You should go see your mother, Severus," Dumbledore said gently.

"Of course, Headmaster," Snape replied, trying for a sense of calm, but the closest he could manage was a feeling of numbness. "I'll head over to Snape Manor as soon as classes are over for the day."

"You will go now, Severus," Dumbledore said, his normally amiable voice suddenly full of steel. "You may take as much leave time as you need."

"But my classes--" Snape protested.

"It will not hurt your students to miss one day of class," Dumbledore said firmly.

"But--"

"They can make up the work when you come back," Dumbledore interrupted. "If it turns out that you will gone for more than a few days, then I'll arrange for a substitute, but we needn't worry about that now. Your mother needs you, Severus; go home. That's an order."

Hogwarts was "home," and Lupin's cottage was "home"; Snape Manor was not "home" to Snape, and it was the very last place he wanted to go right now. But still feeling numb and dazed, he couldn't seem to summon up enough energy to argue further with the meddling old man.

"Very well," he capitulated. He glanced at his students and saw that instead of looking happy that class would be canceled, for the most part they looked worried and sympathetic. That disturbed him a little, although not as much as it probably should have, due to that sense of numbness. It was the same feeling one sometimes got during a very bad cold, like being wrapped in cotton, having everything filtered through a thick haze of fog. One could carry on a rational conversation, but at the same time felt removed from it, as if it were happening to someone else. Snape shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his mind, and said in a reasonable approximation of his normal sour voice, "Read chapter ten of your textbook, and expect to be tested on it when I return." The students murmured acquiescence without their usual grumbling and resentful looks. "Theodore, you'll need to come with me, as you are now the Snape heir in truth." Which meant that Snape was now no longer the Snape heir, but Lord of the Snape estate; the thought was literally staggering, and he reached out with one hand to brace himself against his desk.

Theodore was suddenly at his side, although Snape hadn't seen him move. "Are you sure you're all right, Father?" he asked.

Snape let go of the desk and straightened up. "I'm fine," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He looked at his son's face, full of love and concern, and he suddenly felt just a little bit better, and profoundly grateful that he would not have to return to his ancestral home alone.

"I'll send Remus and Dylan to your office, Severus," Dumbledore told him. "Please convey my deepest sympathies to your mother, and don't hesitate to call me if there is anything I can do."

"Thank you, Headmaster," Snape replied. "I expect I should be able to resume classes on Monday."

"Don't worry about that, Severus," Dumbledore said in a gentle but chiding tone. "I told you, take as much time as you need."

Snape didn't bother to tell him that the prospect of spending even one day at Snape Manor was very unappealing, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do there, anyway. Comfort his mother, the Headmaster would no doubt say, but Snape doubted that he would be much good at consoling Lady Selima, even if she wanted to be consoled, which was rather doubtful. He supposed that he could help her with the funeral arrangements, although knowing his very efficient and proper mother, she probably already had everything under control. But he knew that arguing with the Headmaster would be useless--he was even more stubborn than Lupin when he had his mind set on something--so Snape just nodded and headed to his office with Theodore.

Lupin and Dylan joined them a few minutes later. "I'm so sorry, Severus," Lupin said, putting his arms around Snape and holding him tightly.

"I'm fine, Lupin, don't fuss," Snape said mildly, still not quite able to shake that feeling of detachment. "We've been expecting this, and it's not as if I was close to my father."

Lupin pulled back a little and said, "I know, but still...I'm sorry." He actually looked more distressed than Snape did, and there was a glimmer of tears in his blue eyes. Were the tears really for Severin, whom Lupin had barely met, or more for Snape himself? Mostly the latter, but probably both, Snape decided; Lupin was the sort who would believe all that rubbish about how "each man's death diminishes us". Severin Snape had not been a very well-liked man, and Snape wondered how his father would have reacted to seeing that a werewolf was one of the few people--possibly the only person--in the wizarding world to sincerely mourn his death. Snape almost laughed, but restrained himself, because he was afraid that if he started laughing, he might not be able to stop; he realized that the urge was closer to hysteria than humor.

Snape took a deep breath and steadied himself, and Lupin reluctantly let go of him. Snape grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the mantle, tossed it into the fireplace, and said, "Snape Manor!"
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Selima was sitting in the drawing room when they arrived, looking--not sad, exactly--but very weary. She was a beautiful woman who looked younger than her nearly sixty years, but today the lines on her face seemed more pronounced, and she looked tired and drained. Vorcher stood by her side, sobbing inconsolably, and she absent-mindedly reached out and patted him on the head. Snape's jaw dropped open and he stared at his mother incredulously. Selima had never mistreated the house-elf, but neither had he ever seen her show any affection towards it before.

Selima gave her son a puzzled frown. "Why are you staring at me like that, Severus?" she asked irritably. "Do I have something on my face?" Her hand automatically reached up to brush her cheek, as if to wipe off a stray bit of dirt or an unnoticed smudge.

Snape realized that his mother was not aware of what she had just done, and decided that it would probably be better not to point it out to her. "Ah, no, Mother," he said hastily. "Sorry, I must still be in a bit of shock. I thought the Healers had expected Father to last for a couple more months."

"A few months more at best, was what they told me last month," Selima replied. "He did seem to be doing better for awhile, with the new potion you were making for him. But...he has been fading fast in the past few weeks."

"You should have told me," Snape said, although there was nothing he could have done, and there was really nothing left for he and his father to say to each other. Severin would never apologize to Snape for abusing him as a child, and Snape certainly would never apologize for falling in love with Lupin.

"There was nothing you could have done," Selima said with a shrug, echoing Snape's thoughts. "I think...there was no reason for him to hold on any longer, now that the succession is assured. I think he was only clinging to life this long because he was afraid of what would happen to the Snape name and estate after he died. He would have preferred that you sire an heir, of course--" She gave Snape a brief glare, but seemed too tired to maintain it. "--but since you have made it clear that will never happen, young Theodore is an acceptable substitute. Severin was...well, perhaps 'at peace' would be an exaggeration, but he was satisfied that the Snape line would not die out."

"Poor Master," Vorcher sobbed. "Vorcher has served the Snape family since Master was a boy, and now Master is gone! Master was in such pain these last few years, but Master always said, 'I cannot die yet, Vorcher; what will become of the Snape estate when I am gone?' Master has been too weak to work in his workshop for months, too weak even to hold a book, so Vorcher would read to Master, from the old family histories. Master's favorite was Lord Sebastian's diaries--'Those were the days, when Slytherin was great,' Master used to say. And after the Final Battle, Master wanted to hear the news from the Daily Prophet--news about Master Severus." Vorcher gave Snape an accusing look, but Snape was more startled than offended, not so much by Vorcher's glare, but by the fact that Snape's father had been keeping tabs on him. That was the sort of thing Selima would do, but when Severin cut ties to someone, he pretended that they did not exist; it would have been beneath his dignity--or so Snape had thought--to deliberately seek out news of his wayward son in the Daily Prophet. "Master would say, 'What is my good-for-nothing son up to now, Vorcher?'" Vorcher continued tearfully.

"That's enough, Vorcher," Selima said, but not as sharply as she should have spoken to a house-elf servant who had just spoken disparagingly of a member of the family. It didn't matter that he was only quoting Severin, or that Selima probably agreed with him--one simply did not let an inferior "get above himself," but apparently Selima was too tired to take offense, which worried Snape a little.

"I'm sorry, Vorcher," Lupin said in a gentle voice, kneeling beside the house-elf. "This must be hard for you, having served Lord Severin for so long. But at least he lived long enough to see a new heir appointed, and now he is no longer in pain. You must be strong now, for the Mistress's sake; I am sure she will need your help in the days to come." Vorcher sniffled and hastily wiped his eyes on the faded tea cozy he wore as a tunic. "I assume there will be a funeral, or services of some sort?" Lupin asked Selima.

"Yes," Selima said, her black eyes becoming more alert and animated as she sat up straight. "There are arrangements to be made, announcements to be sent out...it will take extra effort and expense, but I think we can be ready by Sunday. That would be ideal, as most people will be off from school and work..."

"How convenient of Father to die on a weekend," Snape muttered sarcastically.

"Severus!" Lupin snapped, glaring at him.

"I would say that you should show your father some respect in death," Selima said coldly, "but it seems pointless, since you never showed him any in life."

Snape bowed his head in a show of contriteness, letting his hair fall forward over his face to hide his smile. He felt strangely relieved to hear his mother sounding like her old self again.

Like Selima, Vorcher seemed invigorated now that he had a purpose once more. Looking determined, he declared, "Then Vorcher must get everything in order! The house must be cleaned, and enough food must be cooked to feed all the guests!"

"Guests?" Lupin asked.

"Of course many important people will come to see the Snape Lord laid to rest!" Vorcher said indignantly, then ran off, presumably to start cooking and cleaning.

"Everyone who is anyone will come," Selima assured Lupin. "It doesn't matter that Severin lost his Ministry position years ago and became a recluse; he is still the head of one of the oldest pureblood families in the wizarding world."

"It's a pureblood thing," Snape told Lupin.

Selima smiled, a little bitterly. "If nothing else, they will come to gloat--the purebloods love watching each other's misfortunes. And no doubt they will come to get a look at the new heir--and my son's werewolf lover."

"Can Vorcher handle the housecleaning and all the food preparations by himself?" Lupin asked dubiously.

"The Headmaster told me to convey his sympathies, Mother," Snape said, "and to offer any help that might be needed."

Selima looked thoughtful. "Hmm...cooking and cleaning will keep Vorcher busy." She gave Lupin a shrewd look. "Which was your intention, was it not?" Lupin just smiled at her. "Most of the food can be prepared ahead of time today and tomorrow and kept fresh with a preservation spell, and I'll have some pastries delivered from the tea shop on Sunday. But he can't serve all the guests by himself; I was going to hire someone, but..."

"I'm sure that the Headmaster would be willing to loan us some of the Hogwarts elves," Snape said, making a mental note to request that Winky and Dobby not be included among them. He could just see his mother throwing a fit because one house-elf was drunk on butterbeer, and the other would probably affront the guests with his mere presence.

But Selima smiled slyly and asked, "Doesn't Lucius Malfoy's former house-elf work there now?"

"Uh, yes, Mother, but surely you wouldn't want--"

"A reminder of Lucius's comeuppance," Selima purred. "A reminder that the Malfoys have fallen, and the order of things has changed."

Lupin blinked, looking a little startled, but Snape was not surprised that his mother was using the funeral as an opportunity to do some political maneuvering--that was the Slytherin way, after all. "Very well, Mother. I will contact the Headmaster and take him up on his offer."

"Please thank him for me, Severus," Selima said. "Although I will of course send him a formal letter of thanks later."

"Yes, Mother."

"Is there anything we can do to help, Lady Selima?" Lupin asked.

"Hmm..." Selima pursed her lips thoughtfully, then glanced at Dylan and Theodore. "Do the boys have formal black dress robes?"

Snape had no idea, so he gave his sons a questioning look. Dylan shook his head. "My dress robes are gray."

"Mine are dark green," Theodore said.

"Our Hogwarts robes are black," Dylan added.

"That's not good enough for a funeral, at least for Theodore, as he is the new heir," Selima said. "It would be acceptable for Dylan to wear his school uniform since he isn't actually a member of the Snape family, but you had might as well take both of them shopping, Severus, and buy them black dress robes. You can charge it to the Snape account."

"I can pay for their clothes myself," Snape said stiffly.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Severus!" Selima snapped. "You don't need to be so touchy; I wasn't trying to insinuate that you couldn't afford it! But you are the Snape Lord now, and you had might as well make use of the family account--that's what it's there for, after all."

"Yes, Mother," Snape said, his face turning a little red; it seemed that being the Snape Lord didn't preclude being scolded by his mother! But she was right, he supposed; there was no reason not to use the family account to buy robes for the funeral. It was just that he had been cut off from his family for so long, and had been so determined to make his own way in the world and take nothing from them. Old habits were hard to break.

"It's too late to have the robes custom-made," Selima said, frowning. "You'll have to buy them off the rack and have them altered if necessary. Madam Malkin's will do a rush job for an extra fee."

"I'm sure we can find something suitable, Mother," Snape replied. Actually, getting out of the house was beginning to sound like a good idea. He didn't care to linger in Snape Manor at the best of times, let alone be stuck in the mansion with his father's corpse and a weepy house-elf. The boys were looking relieved as well.

"You can buy the werewolf some robes, too," Selima said, a little grudgingly. "Not that it will make your relationship any less scandalous, but he ought to at least look presentable..."

Lupin just smiled, not looking the least bit offended; the werewolf claimed that he wasn't a saint, but he certainly had the patience of one. "The black robes Sirius gave me for Christmas will do, don't you think, Severus?"

Those robes were expensive and high-quality, but still a step down from formal dress robes. "If we're going to scandalize the wizarding world, Lupin, you had might as well be properly dressed while we do it," Snape quipped, and Selima glared at him as Lupin tried to fight back a laugh. "Let us be on our way, then."

"You go ahead without me, Severus," Lupin said. "One of us ought to stay behind and help Lady Selima with the funeral arrangements."

Selima gave him a startled look. "Well, that really is the heir's job..."

Much to Snape's relief, Lupin said in a reasonable tone, "But I can't take the boys shopping, as I would not be able to charge anything to the Snape account. So it only makes sense for Severus to go, and me to stay and help."

"I can manage on my own--" Selima started to protest.

"There's the undertaker to be contacted, and the florist," Lupin said, counting off tasks on his fingers, "and the tea shop for the pastry order, and the Headmaster for the loan of the Hogwarts elves. Not to mention notices to be sent out to the Daily Prophet and, I presume, 'everyone who is anyone,' as you put it." Selima still hesitated, and Lupin added cheerfully, "No one has to know that a werewolf helped you unless you tell them."

"Oh, very well," Selima said huffily, as if she were doing him a favor instead of the other way around.

"If you're sure," Snape said hesitantly, feeling a little guilty about leaving Lupin behind.

But his lover just smiled at him cheerfully and said, "Go ahead, Severus; we'll be fine."

"Come along, then," Snape said to Theodore and Dylan, and headed back towards the fireplace.

"Just one moment, Severus!" Selima said sharply. "Shouldn't you go pay your last respects to your father first?"

"Isn't that what the funeral is for?" Snape complained.

"Severus Snape!" Selima cried in outrage.

"All right, all right, I'm going," Snape grumbled, heading upstairs to his father's room, as Lupin and the boys followed anxiously behind. "Bloody waste of time," he muttered under his breath. "It's not like he'll know if I'm there or not."

Lupin apparently saw through his bluster, because he laid a hand on Snape's arm and asked softly, "Are you all right, Severus?"

"Not really," he replied curtly. "But let's just get this over with." Since his mother was not present and his father was unable to voice any objections, Snape brought Lupin into the room with him for moral support. He stared down at his father's body, which looked even more thin and wasted than it had the last time Snape had seen him, and Severin's skin looked pale and waxy, making him seem more like a doll or a mannequin than something that had, up until an hour or two ago, been a living person. He stared down at the man he had hated for so many years, the man who had alternately tormented and neglected him, and felt...nothing, save for a feeling of emptiness.

Lupin touched Snape's arm again, and Snape looked up and said gruffly, "Well, we've paid our respects; let's go."

"May you rest in peace," Lupin murmured to Severin's body before he turned to follow Snape out of the room.

"I didn't think that you had any fond feelings for my father, Lupin," Snape said peevishly, feeling uneasy and irritable, although he knew that he shouldn't be taking it out on Lupin. "He certainly didn't have any for you."

But Lupin's patience was still intact, it seemed. "I did not like him," Lupin replied quietly, "and I cannot forgive him for the way he hurt you when you were a child, but there is little point in hating a dead man." Snape flushed a little, wondering if that was directed towards his animosity for his long-dead rival, James Potter, which Snape could not quite seem to let go of. "And besides, it's bad luck to wish ill upon the dead," Lupin continued, leaving unsaid the fact that it was especially bad luck when the dead person was a wizard, who had the power to return as a ghost and haunt the living, although there was little chance that Severin would take that route--Lord Snape had been much too proud and strong-willed to settle for the half-life of a ghost. "And," Lupin added with a gentle smile, "in a roundabout way, Lord Severin's insistence upon having an heir led to you adopting Theodore, so I am grateful to him, if only for that."

Snape managed a small smile in return; trust Lupin to find the silver lining in a raincloud! "Yes," he said softly, placing a hand on Theodore's shoulder. "For that I am grateful."

"I will be a worthy heir, Father," Theodore told him solemnly.

"I know," Snape said, squeezing his shoulder. "Well then, Lupin, we'll be going. Are you sure you want to stay here with my mother?"

"I told you before, Severus, Lady Selima and I have reached a truce. I'll be fine; I'm more worried about you." He gave Snape a concerned look, and reached up to gently caress his cheek.

"I'm fine, Lupin," Snape said. It was not entirely true, but he was feeling much better than he had been a few minutes ago. Lupin hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, and Snape felt even better, although he told Lupin in a dry voice, "Thank you, Lupin, but try not to do that at the funeral, or my mother will have a fit."

"I'll try to restrain myself," Lupin laughed, giving him one more peck on the cheek.
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Lupin said goodbye to his lover and sons, then went looking for Lady Selima. He found her in the study, talking into a communication mirror.

"Very well, Lady Snape," the image of a wizard clad in green robes said. "We'll have your order delivered first thing Sunday morning. My deepest condolences for your loss." The wizard bowed, and the mirror went blank.

"Isn't that Gareth Greengrass?" Lupin asked.

Selima looked up, startled. "Oh, Professor Lupin, I didn't hear you come in. Yes, I was arranging for Greengrass Florists to deliver some flowers to the funeral on Sunday. Do you know the Greengrasses?"

"Their daughter Daphne is one of my students," Lupin replied. "Well, one of Severus's students to be more precise, I suppose. She's a Slytherin."

"Oh?" Selima said, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps the rumors are untrue, then."

"What rumors?" Lupin asked.

"That their blood is not as pure as it should be," Selima replied. "Gareth's mother never married and would never say who the father of her baby was. It caused quite a scandal at the time, you know. Her parents would have disowned her, but she was their only child and there was no other heir, so they accepted a bastard grandchild rather than let the Greengrass name die out. But people whispered that perhaps the father was someone unsuitable, like a Mudblood or a half-blood."

"Or perhaps a Gryffindor," Lupin said sarcastically. "That would surely be scandalous!"

"Quite," Selima said, with a faint, ironic smile. "And I suppose you are about to tell me that I should not be indulging in malicious gossip. And you would be right, if only because there is too much work to be done right now."

"How may I help you, then?" Lupin asked politely.

"We need to get the announcements sent out as soon as possible," Selima said, taking out some blank stationary and envelopes from a desk drawer. She hesitated, then handed him a leather-bound notebook filled with the names and addresses of prominent wizarding families. "I'll need to write out the announcements personally, but you can address the envelopes, if you don't mind." Lupin pulled up a chair to the front of the desk, dipped a quill in ink, and got started. "Write neatly," Selima ordered sternly, in a tone that made her sound not unlike a schoolteacher, and Lupin smiled.

He did his best to imitate Selima's elegant calligraphy, and held up an envelope for her inspection. "Will that do, Lady Selima?"

She blinked in surprise. "You don't have to copy my handwriting, Professor, just write neatly."

"I didn't want to give away the fact that a werewolf was aiding you," Lupin replied pleasantly.

Selima gave him an uncertain look, as if not sure whether he was mocking her or not. "Unless they can recognize your handwriting, people will probably assume that Severus, Theodore, or Vorcher helped me address the envelopes. And how do you know my handwriting so well, anyway?"

Lupin smiled. "It's quite distinctive, and I saw it clearly on all the letters you sent to Severus over the summer, not to mention your last invitation to tea."

"Oh," Selima said, still gazing at him suspiciously. "You would have made a talented forger, Professor; I suppose it's just as well that you're a noble Gryffindor."

Lupin laughed, and Selima gave him a small, dry smile in return, and they worked in silence for awhile. Selima set an enchanted quill to writing out the basic form letters: the notification of Severin's death, and the day, time, and place the funeral would be held (Sunday morning at 10:30 am on the estate grounds). Then she personalized each letter by filling in the name of the recipient and signing her name on the bottom. After they were both done, they began slipping the letters into the appropriate envelopes, sealing the envelopes with melted wax and stamping them with the Snape seal, and wrapping them with black ribbons. Lupin noticed that announcements were being sent to all the prominent pureblood families, as well as Ministry officials, the Weasleys among them, although he suspected that they would not have warranted an invitation if Arthur had not been appointed Minister of Magic. But there were a few omissions that he found puzzling.

"I don't see any letters for the Averys, Crabbes, Goyles, Pierces, or Zabinis," Lupin said.

"The first three are tainted by their connection to the Death Eaters," Selima sniffed, "and the last two are not of enough importance to warrant an invitation."

"You invited the Malfoys," Lupin pointed out.

"They're still wealthy enough that it would be wise not to snub them," Selima replied coolly. "But the others do not have enough wealth or influence left to be worth bothering with."

Lupin frowned disapprovingly. "Whatever you think of those families, their children are Severus's students. I'm sure they would like to pay their respects and show their support for--"

"Professor Lupin!" Selima shouted angrily. "Have you not meddled enough in the Snape family affairs?! You have everything you wanted--Severus remains your lover, and Theodore is the Snape heir! At least allow me to conduct my husband's funeral as I see fit!"

There was a slight edge of hysteria to her voice, unlike her usual tone of cold anger and contempt. Even if she had not loved Severin, they had lived together for forty years, and his death must be hard on her. If clinging to her rigid Slytherin rules of etiquette gave her comfort, then so be it, Lupin thought; he would not argue further. He and Dylan and Theo would be there to comfort Severus, along with Albus and Branwen--Selima had seen fit to issue a general invitation to the staff at Hogwarts, as well as personal invitations to the Headmaster and "Branwen, Lady Blackmore". No doubt Theodore would have liked his friends, especially Blaise and Damien, to be there, but as he barely knew Severin and would not really mourn him, Lupin thought his foster son would be all right.

"I apologize, Lady Selima," Lupin said quietly. "You are right; it is not my place to interfere."

Selima seemed surprised that he had given in so easily, but said nothing, and they returned to work. Everyone on Selima's list was a pureblood, with one notable exception: Harry Potter. Selima saw Lupin's small smile, although he tried to hide it, and said tartly, "Well, one can hardly snub the Savior of the Wizarding World." Lupin could almost hear the capital letters being projected by Selima's sarcastic voice. "Even if he is a half-blood."

That wasn't really true, but since Harry didn't want it becoming public knowledge that Voldemort had been his mother's real father, Lupin remained silent. When the letters were all sealed, Selima bound them together with a ribbon and gave them to the family owl, Socrates, to be delivered.

Lupin eyed the large stack of letters doubtfully and said, "Can he manage all those? Perhaps we should take some of them to the post office."

"He'll be fine," Selima said, unconcerned, and the owl seemed willing enough.

Lupin patted Socrates on the head and whispered, "I'll give you a treat when you get back." Selima gave him an annoyed look, and the owl hooted affectionately, then departed with the letters.

 

Part 56