Aftermaths, Part 57

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.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Saturday, the Snape family continued to prepare for Lord Severin's funeral. For the most part, Snape was willing to let Selima do as she pleased, but he did put his foot down on one matter.

"Absolutely not!" he shouted.

Selima glared back at him, the look in her black eyes just as stubborn as her son's. "It is customary for the heir to give a speech at the Lord's funeral! It doesn't have to be a long one, Severus, just a few polite words about how your father will be missed and so on..."

"Father and I hated each other, and the entire wizarding world knows it!" he retorted. "I will not stand up there and utter mawkish tripe about how much I miss Father and what a wonderful man he was when it's all a complete lie!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Severus!" Selima snapped. "You didn't have any problem with lying to everyone about being a Death Eater, but now you have a sudden attack of conscience about having to utter a few harmless white lies at your father's funeral? What will people think if you refuse to speak at the funeral?"

Snape smiled sardonically. "As long as we're telling white lies, why don't you just tell everyone that I'm too grief-stricken to manage a speech?"

"Do you think this is a joke, Severus?!"

Lupin stepped between them and laid his hand on Snape's arm. "Why don't you just tell the truth, Severus?" he asked quietly, and both Snapes stared at him in surprise. "That the news of your father's illness brought you back home to your family, and it brought Theodore into your life as your son, and you are grateful for that. It is true, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," Snape admitted reluctantly, although he was loathe to make even small admissions of sentimentality in public. But Theodore was smiling at him tenderly, with that look of awe that said he still found it hard to believe that he belonged to a family that loved him, and Snape was afraid that he would hurt Theodore's feelings if he rejected Lupin's proposal. "Very well," he sighed. "Although you do realize, Mother, that Father always despised this sort of display of sentiment."

"Too bad," Selima said bluntly, still sounding a little testy. "The rules of etiquette must be adhered to; your father understood that, even if he didn't always like it. Besides, he won't have to listen to it. All the pomp and ceremony of funerals are really for the living, not the dead."

"That's quite insightful, Lady Selima," Lupin said with a small smile. "We say that the purpose of a funeral is to show honor to the dead, but it's really more to comfort the living, isn't it?"

Selima stared at him incredulously, and Snape said dryly, "Actually, among the pureblood elite, its purpose is to show how influential and powerful your family is. That's the purpose of almost any pureblood gathering, be it a funeral or a wedding or a child's birthday party."

Lupin sighed, and Selima shook her head and muttered under her breath, "Gryffindors." Then she looked at her grandson and said in a normal voice, "You'll have to speak, too, Theodore."

"Me?" Theodore cried in dismay. "But I didn't even know Lord Severin! He only spoke to me that one time on the day of the adoption!"

"You don't have to come up with any personal anecdotes about Severin," Selima told him impatiently. "Just say something about how you will do your best to uphold the honor of the Snape family."

"Yes, Grandmother," he said obediently, if not very enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Dylan felt very grateful that, not being a Snape, he would not be obliged to make any speeches.

But there was one more matter that needed to be dealt with. "I suppose I should have your father's portrait completed," Selima said to Snape, a little reluctantly.

"You mean one of those talking portraits?" Dylan asked curiously. "Like the one of Mrs. Black at Sirius's house, or the one of my great-grandfather at the Rosier mansion? How are they made, anyway?"

"They are painted while the subject is still living," Selima explained, "by an artist who specializes in Portraiture Magic. The artist infuses the painting with the subject's personality; part of the process requires mixing some of the subject's blood into the paint." Theodore shuddered, while Dylan looked both fascinated and a little repulsed.

"It's a type of Blood Magic, then," he said.

"Well, yes, technically," Selima agreed, "although most people don't like to think of it as such; they associate Blood Magic with the Dark Arts, but this spell is considered benign."

"Because people crave a piece of immortality," Snape said, with a small, bitter smile. "Even if it is only an illusion."

Selima led them to what seemed to be a storeroom; it was full of old furniture, most of it ugly and ostentatious. She pulled a sheet off an object tucked away in a corner, revealing a portrait of Severin, his face set in a stern, severe expression. It looked remarkably lifelike, except for the eyes, which had not yet been painted in, leaving two blank holes staring out of an otherwise complete face, giving the portrait a rather odd and eerie look.

"The portrait will not come to life until the eyes are painted in," Selima explained.

"Do you really want to have it completed?" Snape asked sourly. Personally, the thought of being harangued by his father even after he was dead held little appeal for Snape.

"It's pureblood tradition, Severus," Selima scolded. "Besides, it's my duty as Severin's wife to see that the portrait is completed." But there was a hint of reluctance in her voice, as if she secretly found the idea just as distasteful as Snape did.

"No one could possibly find fault with your loyalty to Father," Snape said in a silky voice, which caused Selima to stare at him suspiciously. "But I do believe that your marriage vows said 'honor and obey till death do us part'. How long after Father is dead must you continue to obey him?"

"You have been spending too much time around Morrigan De Lacy," Selima said dryly. "You're starting to think like a lawyer."

"Or like a merchant," Snape pointed out, "very carefully adhering to the exact letter of the contract."

For just a moment, Selima almost smiled, then she said in a cool voice, "You show no respect to your father, Severus." But there was a slightly calculating look in her eyes, the same look her Bashir relatives wore when bargaining with a client or negotiating with a Ministry official, the look that seemed to say, "Make me a counteroffer."

"How respectful would it be to Father to bring his portrait to life and then lock it up in the attic?" Snape obligingly countered. "Because you know that's where it's going to end up, sooner or later. Probably sooner."

"You do have a point," Selima conceded, although she didn't seem to be quite ready to give in yet. "But people will talk if we don't have Severin's portrait displayed."

"Perhaps," Lupin suggested gently, "you could think of it as an indefinite postponement, rather than an outright refusal to complete the portrait."

"True," Selima said thoughtfully. "It can be completed at any point in the future; we don't have to do it right now."

"And," Lupin continued, "I have heard that some people find it difficult to deal with the portraits so soon after a loved one's death. The sight of their deceased loved ones, seemingly brought back to life, brings joy to some, but greater pain to others, only serving to accentuate their loss."

"Yes, this is a delicate time for the family," Selima agreed. "Perhaps such a major decision should be postponed until after the mourning period."

"And if anyone should ask--though that would be rather rude, don't you think?--you could say that the portrait is being displayed in a more private part of the house," Lupin suggested. "After all, none of the other Snape portraits are hanging in the halls or the drawing room or other parts of the house that guests might see. It's not as if its absence is really that conspicuous."

"And Father did value his privacy," Snape added virtuously.

"Such a dutiful son you are, Severus," Selima said sarcastically, but she looked a little amused. "Very well, then. We will leave the portrait be for now."

She went down to the kitchen to check on Vorcher's progress with the food preparations, and Snape closed the door on the storeroom and his father's portrait with a sigh of relief. Then he turned to Lupin and said, "You were wasted in Gryffindor; you are as conniving as any Slytherin."

The boys grinned, and Lupin laughed and said, "Well, I did eventually end up in the dungeon!"

"We all think of you as an honorary member of Slytherin, Remus," Dylan told him. "It's probably the first time since the days of the Founders that a Gryffindor was permitted to enter the Slytherin common room!"

"My old friend James would be scandalized to hear it," Lupin said, with a mischievous smile that made him look like a teenager again, and Snape felt a malicious little stab of pleasure at the thought of Potter's outrage; it was almost a pity that he wasn't alive to see it--to see Snape claim Lupin as his lover, to see Lupin willingly ally himself with the Slytherins, even live among them. It was a bit petty of him, Snape supposed, but after all, it was the Gryffindors who were supposed to be the noble ones, not the Slytherins.

Lupin whispered into Snape's ear, "You're thinking something wicked, my love; I can tell by the look on your face."

"Of course I am," Snape purred, "I'm a Slytherin; we're always thinking wicked thoughts."

"That's part of what I love about you," Lupin said, kissing him on the cheek.

Their bantering was heading in the direction of the bedroom, as it usually did, and Snape regretfully decided that he'd better put a stop to it, especially since the boys were beginning to look a little embarrassed, and that would be nothing compared to Selima's reaction if she walked in on them right now.

"Control yourself, Lupin," Snape said. "My mother will be back any minute."

Lupin chuckled. "It's almost like being a teenager again! Stealing kisses, hiding from your parents..."

"I assure you, Lupin," Snape said in a wry voice, "that my mother would never have permitted me to keep a werewolf in my bedroom when I was a teenager."

The boys blushed and laughed, and Lupin smiled and said, "Well, we'd better go find Lady Selima and see if she needs some help before she comes looking for us."

They headed downstairs, and Snape said to Lupin softly, "Thank you, Remus."

"For what, Severus?"

"For being here," Snape replied. "It would have been a lot harder without you." That was putting it mildly; he had dreaded staying in his childhood home with its painful and bitter memories, and dealing with his father's death was even worse--he still didn't know exactly how he felt about it; his emotions were all muddled, and he was a little afraid to examine them too closely. But Remus's presence made it all much easier to bear, with his humor and patience and, of course, his love. He also seemed to have become adept at handling Lady Selima, which puzzled Snape, because he still wasn't sure how Lupin did it, but he was grateful for it, because Snape and his mother would probably be at each other's throats if not for Lupin's intervention.

As usual, Lupin seemed to pick up on everything Snape had left unsaid; there was a look of understanding in his pale blue eyes. "You're welcome, Severus," he said quietly.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

In the kitchen, Selima nodded approvingly, and Vorcher looked gratified. The house-elf offered her a cup of tea, and she accepted it and sat down at the kitchen table, figuring that she could take a short break from the funeral preparations, as everything seemed to be progressing smoothly. That was partly Lupin's doing, and Selima sighed a little. The werewolf had a clever mind, and despite his Gryffindor idealism, could negotiate like the canniest of merchants, and be as cunning as a Slytherin--and all the while disguising it with his cheerful, innocent smile. He was certainly good at manipulating Severus into doing what he wanted, and since what Lupin wanted and what Selima wanted happened to coincide this time, she was grateful. She sighed again; it was really a pity that Lupin was male and a werewolf. If he'd been female, he would have been a worthy mate for Severus. Then again, perhaps Severus would not have been interested in Lupin if he had been female and not a lycanthrope; Severus seemed to take a distinct pleasure in scandalizing his family. It was probably the very things that made Lupin an unsuitable lover for a pureblood heir that made him most attractive to Severus. It was ridiculous for a man who was nearly forty to still be behaving like a rebellious teenager, but it didn't seem like Severus was going to grow out of it.

After all these years, Selima's son was still a mystery to her, and she wasn't sure if she would ever understand him. He was a bundle of contradictions: a pureblood heir who had repudiated his name and fortune; a Slytherin who lived with a Gryffindor lover; a Dark Wizard turned hero; a man who, Selima knew from experience, could be selfish, bitter, and petty, and yet had risked his life to spy on the Death Eaters. Such a noble, self-sacrificing act was foreign to the Slytherin mindset, and she still didn't know why he had done it, unless it was for Lupin's sake. The werewolf would likely have perished if Voldemort had won the war, slain either for his tainted blood or for his loyalty to Dumbledore.

{My son is either a noble fool or a lovesick idiot,} Selima thought to herself in disgust. {Possibly both.}

"Is there anything we can do to help, Lady Selima?" said a cheerful voice that was becoming all too familiar to her.

Selima sighed one last time and pushed aside her teacup. "Yes, Professor Lupin," she said in a resigned tone. "We need to prepare the ballroom for tomorrow's reception."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts in the castle courtyard, Hermione was giving Harry a lesson in wizard etiquette. "Remember to address Snape's mother as Lady Selima or Lady Snape, not Mrs. Snape."

"Why?" Harry asked, looking puzzled. "Are they nobility?"

"Hundreds of years ago, the oldest and most powerful of the pureblood families were considered nobility, and called themselves Lords and Ladies," Hermione lectured. "These days, that's considered rather old-fashioned, and most people call themselves 'Mr.' or 'Mrs.' but a few of the more...er...traditional families--"

"That means the snooty ones," Ron interrupted.

"--still cling to the old, formal terms of address," Hermione continued.

Hermione had somehow managed to rope Draco into helping with her etiquette lesson. He had been lounging on a stone bench, looking bored throughout most of the lecture, but now he spoke up, "The Snapes are very formal and very old-fashioned, according to my mother. And Lady Selima is said to be a real stickler for propriety; she'll probably consider it an insult if you call her 'Mrs. Snape'."

"Fine," Harry sighed. "I'll remember to call her 'Lady Selima'. But please tell me that we don't have to start calling Snape 'Lord Severus'!"

Hermione giggled. "Well, technically he is Lord Snape now that his father is dead, but I assume that we'll still call him 'Professor' at school."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he docked points from the Gryffindors for not calling him 'Lord,'" Ron predicted darkly, and Hermione laughed.

"Oh, don't be silly, Ron! I don't really think Snape is that comfortable with the title himself. Dylan says he only went back home after his mother sent him the Howler because Professor Lupin and the Headmaster practically forced him to. And Professor Blackmore is the head of the Blackmore family, but she doesn't make anyone call her 'Lady Blackmore'."

"Should we be calling the portrait of Sirius's mother 'Lady Black,' then?" Harry wondered.

"Hmm," Hermione said thoughtfully. "The Blacks are an old and wealthy pureblood family, so maybe, though Sirius never refers to her that way. Then again, Sirius usually calls her, 'you old hag'..."

"His parents used to call themselves Lord and Lady Black," Draco said, then grinned. "Sirius probably has everyone call her 'Mrs. Black' just to piss her off."

"What about you, Malfoy? Should we be calling you 'Lord Draco'?" Harry joked.

"Fat chance!" Ron snorted.

Harry had expected Draco to say something like, "Of course you should call me 'Lord,' seeing as how I'm obviously superior to you gits," but the Slytherin boy looked uncomfortable, then replied, "Sometimes people call my mother 'Lady Narcissa,' but my father never used the title 'Lord' much. He didn't want people at the Ministry thinking of him as too old-fashioned, and...well...the Dark Lord didn't like his Death Eaters calling anyone but himself 'Lord'. If they referred to themselves as Lords, then it would sound like they considered themselves his equals, and..."

Draco's voice trailed off, but Harry knew what he meant; Lord Voldemort had not wanted equal partners, only servants and slaves, and he wondered how the proud, arrogant Death Eaters had come to pledge themselves to such a man. Perhaps Voldemort had tricked them, and they had not realized at first that they would never be anything more than favored servants.

Harry cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject. "So what exactly am I supposed to be doing at this funeral?"

Looking grateful, Draco replied, "There's not really much to it. First you pay your respects to Lord Severin, then--"

"Could you be a little more specific, Malfoy?"

Draco sighed, allowing a slightly smug and superior look to appear on his face. "Just stand in front of the body, bow your head a little, and look solemn; you don't have to do anything else. Then go over to the Snape family and tell them that you're sorry for their loss. Then you can go and sit down while the rest of the guests pay their respects, and then they'll start the funeral. There will probably be a lot of people who detested Lord Severin giving speeches about what a great guy he was and how much they respected him. The Professor will probably give a speech too, providing his mother can make him do it." Hermione giggled, and Harry and Ron smiled a little; none of them could picture Snape making a polite and completely untruthful speech about how much he lamented his father's loss. Draco smiled too, then continued, "Then afterwards, they'll serve food and drink, and everyone will mingle, supposedly to reminisce about the late Lord Snape and comfort his family, but actually to gossip, perhaps to gloat a little, depending on how much they dislike or envy the Snapes, and to do the usual social posturing and maneuvering. If your father's there, Weasley, I'm sure there will be a lot of people sucking up to him and trying to wring a few favors out of him."

"At a funeral?" Ron asked, looking disgusted.

Draco shrugged. "It's not often that you get so many important people together in one place; why waste the opportunity?"

Harry grimaced. "It sounds perfectly dreadful and boring."

Draco just shrugged again. "Are things really so different in the Muggle world?"

Harry thought it over. The Dursleys certainly cared a lot about impressing the people they considered important; they probably would use a funeral as an opportunity to suck up to those people and maybe make a few business connections. "No," he admitted. "Not really. Muggles--some of them, at least--care just as much about power and money as wizards do."

"It's just for one day, Harry," Hermione said in a comforting tone. "And I'm sure Professor Snape will appreciate it."

Ron, Harry, and Draco all simultaneously snorted in derision. "Yeah, right!" Harry said. But maybe it wouldn't be so bad; Hermione, Ron, and Ginny would be there to keep him company, and so would Sirius, who had also been invited to the funeral, much to Harry's surprise. The head of the Black family was either too important to be snubbed, or perhaps it was Lupin's doing, but either way Harry was grateful to have the chance to see his godfather, even if it was on an unpleasant occasion. They'd go and pay their respects, then try to stay out of Snape's way for the rest of the day, which, Harry figured, Snape would probably appreciate much more than their sympathy.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Sunday morning, all the members of the Snape household got up early to get ready for the funeral. Dumbledore sent over a small army of house-elves through the Floo, and half of them helped Vorcher set things up in the ballroom, and the other half helped Snape, Lupin, and the boys set up chairs on the estate grounds for the guests. Meanwhile, the undertaker was setting up a dais upon which Lord Severin's body would be laid, as well as a podium for the speakers.

A carriage with the words "Greengrass Florists" emblazoned on the side pulled up, and two wizards clad in green robes (with the "Greengrass Florists" logo embroidered on the breast pockets) climbed out; one was a middle-aged man with red hair turning to gray, and the other was...

"Daphne!" Dylan exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

She flushed a little, smiled nervously, and said, "We're delivering the flowers for the funeral. It's a big order, and Mother has to run the shop, so the Headmaster gave me permission to help Father with the delivery."

"Well, thank you very much for coming," Lupin said with a smile, as Selima shot him an annoyed look for speaking as if he were a member of the Snape family. "We appreciate it very much." Daphne smiled shyly, then began helping her father unload the flowers from the carriage. "Oh my!" Lupin said. "So many flowers! Did you order all of these, Lady Selima?"

Selima shook her head, but didn't look surprised. "I'm sure some of these were sent by well-wishers."

"Or those trying to toady and curry favor with us," Snape muttered under his breath as his mother glared at him.

There were large wreaths of flowers from the Malfoys and several other prominent pureblood families, including the Parkinsons and Baddocks; there was also one from the Weasleys. There was a much smaller but very elegant arrangement of chrysanthemums from the Kimura family at the Sakura restaurant, and a large flower arrangement that shocked Snape when he found out who it was from.

"Look, Severus," Lupin said, reading the card that came with it. "It's from your students!"

"What?" Snape asked, not sure he'd heard correctly.

"From several of your Slytherins," Lupin continued, "including Blaise, Damien, Draco, Vincent, Gregory, Pansy, Millicent, Serafina, Brad, Yvonne, Patrick, Miriam, and Slaine. Also Padma, Lisa, Luna, and Gabrielle in Ravenclaw; Justin and Hannah in Hufflepuff; and a number of Gryffindors: Hermione, Parvati, Lavender, Seamus, the Creevey siblings, Ginny, Melissa, Martin, Allegra, Chloe, Portia--"

"So many?" Snape interrupted, still in shock.

Lupin nodded, grinning widely. "I told you that you were more popular than you thought!"

Snape flushed. "They're just hoping to butter me up and get good grades!" he blustered.

Selima gave her son a thoughtful look. "You seem to have made quite an impression on your students, Severus."

"What difference does it make?" Snape snapped. "It's just a menial job, I believe you once called it." He remembered it very well, from the time he had accidentally run into her at Diagon Alley last Halloween; she had told him that he should rejoin the Snape family and trade his menial job at Hogwarts for a position of more importance, and he had told her to go to hell.

Lupin kicked Snape in the shin, then smiled sweetly at Selima. "It's actually quite an important job," he told her in a pleasant voice. "Severus is helping to mold young minds and influence the children who will eventually grow up and become leaders in the wizarding world."

"A scary thought," Dylan whispered into his brother's ear, and Theodore smiled.

"Hmm," Selima said, giving Snape another thoughtful look. "You do have a point..."

"Hmmph!" Snape snorted. "All it proves is that my Slytherins have been spending too much time around Lupin. He's a bad influence on them."

Selima ignored him, and begin directing the Greengrasses on where to put the flowers. "You can set those up over there, and I want you to arrange these around the base of the dais..."

"Oh!" cried Daphne, her eyes going wide as she caught sight of the baskets of fragrant roses that Selima was pointing to, roses that the florists had not brought with them. "Black roses!" she exclaimed. "Are these from your estate, Dylan?"

"Yes," he replied. "I asked Lady Selima if she would like some for the funeral, and she said yes, so the Professors took me over to the Rosier estate yesterday to get them."

Daphne knelt down on the ground, her usual shyness replaced by awe. "Oh, they're so beautiful!" she said, picking one up to examine it closely. "No one but the Rosiers has ever been able to grow these, and many people have tried, but they can't find the enchantment that will turn the roses black permanently and carry over into the succeeding generations."

Dylan had never seen her look so animated; her face was practically glowing. "You can have a few if you like," he said carelessly.

"Really?" she asked eagerly. "I could try grafting them onto our regular stock! But are you sure it's all right? They're so rare, and the Rosiers have never given them away before..."

Selima frowned. "They're a nearly priceless commodity, Dylan. Perhaps you shouldn't just give them away..."

Dylan just shrugged indifferently. "I could sell them, I suppose, but I'm the heir to two estates, and I have all the money I need. I see no harm in giving them to someone who obviously takes such pleasure in them." He grinned rakishly. "Especially a pretty girl."

Daphne blushed, and Theodore whispered, "I'm telling Granger that you were flirting with another girl!"

"I'm not interested in going out with anyone but Hermione," Dylan replied in a lofty tone, "but I admire beauty when I see it."

"Are you sure Granger will see it that way?" Theodore asked dryly.

Selima looked annoyed and whispered to Dylan, "If the Greengrasses can find a way to duplicate the roses, they'll make a fortune selling your black roses! Is that all right with you?"

Dylan shrugged again. "I don't mind."

Selima let out an exasperated sigh, and gave up. Gareth Greengrass said sharply, "That's enough, Daphne! Get back to work, and unload the rest of the flowers from the carriage!"

"Yes, Father!" she said, and hurried to obey, but she did discreetly slip a few of the black roses into the pockets of her robe.

The Greengrasses laid the loose black roses around the base of the dais, as Selima instructed, and set up the larger wreaths and arrangements on either side of it. The smaller arrangements were given to the house-elves to decorate the ballroom.

"This is the last of it," Daphne said, lifting a vase out of the carriage and giving it to Selima. "It's addressed to you personally, Lady Snape."

Selima handed Gareth a pouch of coins in payment, and the Greengrasses departed after politely tendering their condolences to the Snapes. Selima examined the vase she was holding: it was a small, clear glass vase filled with a simple arrangement of odd-looking flowers; the green stems bent over at the top to dangle small, white, bell-shaped blossoms. It looked very plain and insignificant next to all the larger, more elaborate wreaths and bouquets. "I can't imagine who would send me such a thing," she sniffed disdainfully.

"Well, perhaps you should read the card," Lupin suggested practically. "What curious-looking flowers; I've never seen anything like them."

"They're snowdrops," Dylan said. "In the Language of Flowers, it means 'hope and consolation,' or 'let us wait for better days'." Everyone turned to stare at him, and he grinned, blushing a little. "I...er...did some research on flower language a couple years back..."

"Let me guess," Snape said sourly. "To flirt with Miss Granger."

"To apologize to her, actually," Dylan admitted sheepishly. "Did you know that a purple hyacinth means 'I'm sorry'?"

A strange, almost suspicious look suddenly dawned on Selima's face, and she abruptly handed the vase to Lupin, saying, "Here, hold this for a moment." Then she opened the card it came with and read it, and a faint blush stained her cheeks.

"Who is it from?" Lupin asked curiously.

"No one important," Selima said hastily, crumpling up the card and shoving it into her pocket. "Just an old acquaintance that I haven't seen in many years." She turned and started walking back to the mansion saying, "I'm going to check on things in the ballroom, and the rest of you should change into your formal robes soon."

"Wait, Lady Selima," Lupin called after her, holding up the vase of snowdrops. "What about this?"

She turned back, looking a little flustered. "Oh...just put it in the study for now," she said, then hurried back to the mansion.

"Your mother's acting a little strangely, don't you think?" Lupin asked Snape as they followed her at a more leisurely pace. "Almost like a schoolgirl who's just received a note from a secret admirer."

"My mother?" Snape asked incredulously. "Have secret admirers?"

"Not a secret admirer," Dylan said, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "She knows who the flowers were from, I can tell."

"Figures you would be able to tell, Romeo," Theodore teased him.

"I don't know why everyone thinks I'm such a playboy," Dylan protested. "I've only ever dated two girls in my entire life!"

"Yes, but you've flirted with just about every girl in the school," Theodore reminded him.

"I would give almost anything to be able to read that card," Lupin sighed.

Snape was beginning to look alarmed. "You can meddle in my life, and the boys' lives, and the even the lives of my Slytherins," he said sternly. But you are not, I repeat not--" He paused for effect after carefully enunciating each word. "To. Meddle. In. My. Mother's. Life. Is that clear, Lupin?"

"Yes, Severus," Lupin replied meekly, but his eyes looked somewhat distracted. "Of course it wouldn't be appropriate right now, as she's only been widowed a few days, but still...I wonder if those flowers were from one of her old flames at Hogwarts. She did say that she had other suitors besides your father..."

"Lupin!" Snape shouted. "What did I just say?! Lady Selima will be furious if you go digging into her personal life, and I assure you that she's no one to be trifled with at the best of times, but especially when she's angry!"

"Oh, don't get so worked up, Severus," Lupin said cheerfully, patting him on the arm. "I was just curious."

Snape heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Please, just try to stay out of trouble, at least for today," he pleaded.

"Of course, Severus," Lupin replied, but somehow Snape didn't feel very reassured.

 

Part 58