Aftermaths, Part 60

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.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lady Selima pushed back her veil, then raised her glass to her lips with a trembling hand, and took a long drink of wine, knowing that she had already drunk too much, and at the same time, not enough. She had not loved Severin, and she did not exactly mourn him, but she felt hollow and empty inside. All her life, her identity had been defined by her relationship to someone else: daughter of the Bashir clan, wife of the Snape Lord...she had never been just "Selima" to anyone but Prospero and Anya, and they were both lost to her, in different ways. If she was no longer Severin's wife, she didn't really know who she was anymore. Now that Severus was Lord Snape, Selima was technically no longer Lady Snape; that title would have gone to his wife if he'd had one, so perhaps she should be grateful that he'd chosen the werewolf as his lover. No doubt Severus would let her retain the title and keep running the estate, but only because he didn't want it, and he had the power to throw her out of the manor at any time. Of course, that would be considered dishonorable and disgraceful by his pureblood peers, but Severus had made it clear that he didn't give a damn what people thought of him. She didn't for a moment think he would really do that, but suddenly she set her glass down, buried her face in her hands, and began to cry, not knowing why she was weeping.

The door opened, and Lupin stepped into the room. "Lady Selima?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

She looked up, aghast, and snapped, "Don't you know how to knock, Professor?!"

Lupin closed the door behind him, smiled gently, and offered her a handkerchief. "I was going to knock, but I was afraid that you'd tell me to go away."

Selima snatched the handkerchief from him and wiped the tears from her face. "Well, you would be right!" she snapped. Oddly enough, being angry at the werewolf was making her feel a little better, or at least was helping her keep the tears at bay.

Lupin's face was filled with that same look of gentle concern he often regarded Severus and Theodore with. "Would you like me to get someone to keep you company?" he asked. "Severus is--"

"Merlin, no!" she exclaimed. Her son was the last person she wanted to find her weeping!

"Well, perhaps someone else from your family, then, your mother or brother...?"

Selima laughed harshly. "You've seen my family, Professor Lupin; can you really picture them offering comfort to anyone?"

"Er...well..." Lupin said, obviously too polite to state the truth, which was that her family looked like a cold-blooded bunch (because they were). "Your cousin Ali seems like a decent sort..."

"Ali can be charming when he wishes to be, but I don't care to cry upon his shoulder," Selima said with a small, twisted smile. "And be careful about buying anything from him; he could steal the clothes off your back and sell them to you at twice what they're worth before you realized what had happened."

Lupin laughed. "Well, I'll be more impressed with his negotiation skills if he can actually get Arthur to lift the ban on flying carpets! Though he already has a number of eager potential clients if that happens, including my own foster sons. Theo and Dylan were quite taken with the carpet in the library." Selima smiled a little, and Lupin added, "Are you sure there isn't anyone I can get? A friend, maybe..."

"I don't have any friends, Professor," Selima said bitterly. "The only real friends I ever had are dead, and the others are merely acquaintances, political allies who flatter you when you have something they want, and laugh at you behind your back when you suffer misfortune. I came here to get away from them."

"I'm sorry, Lady Selima."

The werewolf's gentle, kindly voice somehow triggered the flow of tears again. Lifting the handkerchief to her eyes, she said, "Please just go away and leave me alone, Professor."

Lupin did not leave, but instead pulled up a chair and sat next to her. Selima noticed that for all his polite words, he always ended up doing whatever he wanted, and was just as infuriatingly stubborn as Severus was--he was just a little more subtle about it. "There's no shame in crying, Lady Selima," he said quietly. "You have just laid your husband to rest today; surely you're entitled to a few tears." When Selima did not respond, he cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "You must miss him."

Selima threw back her head and laughed, bitterly and a little hysterically. "This was an arranged marriage, Professor, not one of your little Gryffindor love-matches!"

"That doesn't mean you can't miss him," Lupin said in a reasonable tone of voice. "He was a part of your life for forty years."

Selima blinked and stared at him in confusion. "I don't know if I miss him, exactly..."

"Did you love him?" Lupin asked in a conversational tone, and strangely, Selima was not offended.

"No," she instantly replied. "There were times when I didn't even like him. But..." Lupin waited patiently while she tried to sort her thoughts out. "I respected him," she finally said. "And for all his faults, he respected me. He treated me like a person instead of just some pretty trophy to show off to his friends, or a brood mare to bear his children. I'm not sure if you realize how rare that is among the pureblood elite."

"Oh, I have an idea," Lupin said softly, his eyes looking grave and thoughtful. "I saw how Narcissa always deferred to Lucius without question, and I saw how Andreas and Thaddeus treated their wives like property instead of people. And I see the way most of the Slytherin girls talk of nothing but their looks and cute boys and who their parents might marry them off to."

Selima nodded. "I had more power than most pureblood women, save for those families like the Donners and the Blackmores who pass the title down matrilineally. Severin respected my abilities and listened to my advice." She grimaced a little, thinking of how he had disowned Severus. "Well, most of the time, anyway."

"There's a saying, isn't there," Lupin said lightly, "that behind every great man is a woman?"

"Well, I'm not sure that you could call Severin a great man," Selima said with a wry smile. "Though he certainly aspired to become one--he had dreams of becoming Minister of Magic one day. I'm not sure that he ever would have achieved that goal; he wasn't as tactless as Severus is, but he wasn't very good at flattering people, and he didn't suffer fools gladly. But that was my job as his wife, you see--to flatter the proper people, to throw parties and make connections and alliances..."

"I'm sure you were very good at it," Lupin said.

Selima gave him a suspicious look, wondering if he was either patronizing or mocking her, but his face looked earnest and sympathetic. "I was," she said firmly, then sighed and threw up her hands in frustration. "But it all went to hell when Voldemort came along. Even though Voldemort fell, Lucius came to power and cast down my husband for failing to support him. He took from us our son and Severin's career."

Lupin gave her an odd look that she couldn't quite read, but there seemed to be a hint of both guilt and accusation in it. "Lucius is partly to blame for Severus joining the Death Eaters, but there were other contributing factors..."

"I suppose you probably think that one of those factors was Severin," Selima said wearily. "I know you think that Severin was a monster for cursing Severus as a child, and probably that I'm one as well for not stopping him, but...Severin was not a bad man. A hard man, but not a bad one. He was an honorable man, in his own way, perhaps not in a way that a Gryffindor would understand, but there were lines that he would not cross, things that he would not do for any amount of power or money. If he gave his word on something, he would never break it. Maybe that doesn't mean much to you, Professor, but not many of his peers can say the same."

"I believe you," Lupin said quietly. "I don't condone what he did, but I believe you. Albus said much the same thing earlier today, didn't he? That he respected Lord Severin even if he didn't always agree with him, because he held fast to his own code of honor."

"Yes," Selima whispered, and the tears began to spill out of her eyes again. Lupin reached out, then abruptly stopped, his hand hovering in the air over her shoulder, an almost helpless expression on his face as he correctly realized that Selima would not want a comforting touch or embrace from him. Lupin let his hand fall back to his side, and Selima swiped at her eyes impatiently with the handkerchief.

"I'm not weeping for Severin," she said crossly. "I'm feeling sorry for myself, because a pureblood woman's power lies in her husband, and now I have no husband, and hence, no true power of my own. I have nothing." She couldn't seem to stop crying, and she shouted at Lupin, "Will you go away, Professor, and leave me alone?!"

Predictably, Lupin ignored her. "It's not true that you have nothing, Lady Selima," he said gently. "You have Severus and Theodore."

She shook her head, laughing mirthlessly as the tears continued to stream down her face. "I am a stranger to Theodore; he cares nothing for me. And Severus hates me. I suppose I can't really blame him."

"Severus's feelings are a little more complicated than simple hate," Lupin said solemnly. "We hate most those whom we love best, when we believe that they have betrayed us."

"I suppose your simple Gryffindor mind can't quite grasp the concept," Selima said waspishly, "but Severus doesn't love me. People don't necessarily love each other just because they are kin, you know."

"Do you love Severus?" Lupin asked quietly, and Selima just stared at him in shock. "Did you ever, when he was a child?" he persisted, gently but determinedly, staring directly into her eyes, not accusingly, but intently, as if he very much wanted to know the answer.

Instead of telling him to mind his own business, she found herself whispering, "I...I don't know. Love is not a common commodity among the Slytherin elite. I...gave up on love when I married Severin. I had to, in order to do my duty. I tried to feel...nothing." Lupin's expression softened a little, and his face filled with compassion, and like a dam breaking, all the pain she had repressed for the past four decades came pouring out along with her tears. "Maybe that is why...I had nothing left for Severus," she gasped between sobs. "I couldn't be a loving mother to him...but I tried...I tried to be a good mother. I taught him all I could, of magic and politics and etiquette. I taught him what I thought he needed to know in order to survive and advance in pureblood society. Maybe it wasn't enough...but I did the best that I could. I did my best..." Her voice trailed off, and she sat there sobbing hysterically and not really knowing who she was weeping for--Severin, Severus, or herself...the widow who had lost her husband and her identity, or the young girl who had given up her dreams to do her duty. All of them, perhaps.

"I believe you," Lupin said, then hesitantly reached out and laid his hand over hers, and she let him. That was all he did; he didn't try to embrace her, or even clasp her hand, but that light touch seemed to serve as an anchor that kept her from being swept away. After several minutes, she finally stopped weeping, and Lupin pulled his hand away as she wiped her face with the handkerchief, which was by now getting a little soggy.

Lupin pushed the wineglass towards her, but she shook her head. "Something a little stronger, I think," she said. "Severin keeps some cognac in that cupboard over there."

Lupin retrieved the expensive bottle of cognac, and poured out two glasses. Selima knew that Severin would have had a fit if he could see the werewolf drinking his good liquor, but at this moment, she didn't particularly care. She lifted her glass in an ironic toast, and Lupin clinked his glass against hers. Lupin took a sip and raised his eyebrows. "My, Lord Severin certainly had very discriminating tastes, at least in liquor."

"Indeed," Selima said. By the time they both finished their second glass, Selima was feeling almost mellow, but it was difficult to tell if the werewolf had been affected by the alcohol, as he wore that same gentle, serene smile on his face that he always did. "By the way, Professor," Selima said in a conversational tone, "if you ever repeat what I told you here today, I'll kill you."

"You'll have to get in line behind Severus," Lupin told her, still smiling. "He's promised to turn me into a wolfskin rug I don't know how many times. Lukas occasionally wants a piece of my hide, too."

"Lukas?" Selima asked.

Lupin looked chagrined; that had obviously slipped out without his meaning to say it--perhaps the cognac had affected him, after all. "Ah, Lukas Bleddri, a fellow werewolf and teacher at Hogwarts."

"Oh yes," Selima said in a bored tone, and Lupin looked relieved. "I think I read something about him in the Daily Prophet."

Lupin changed the subject. "It's not my place to repeat what you told me," he said, his face serious now. "Because I think you need to say those things to Severus yourself."

Selima shook her head. "What for? It's at least twenty or thirty years too late for any apologies or explanations. Severus hates me; I can't change that. I'm just satisfied that he's returned home to assume the Lordship and do his duty, in a manner of speaking."

"Damn it, Selima!" Lupin snapped, slamming his hands down on the desk, and Selima stared at him in surprise. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice to her, and the first time he had ever dropped the polite preface "Lady" before her name. "It's too late for Severin to mend things with his son because he's dead, but it's not too late for you! Severus has returned home, however reluctantly, and you have a second chance--do you have any idea how rare an opportunity that is?"

"It's been too long," Selima protested, still feeling stunned. "Too much time has passed, too many grudges and years of animosity. And I don't know how to be a loving mother, Professor. I'm not sure I could change even if I wanted to, and I'm not sure that I want to."

"Damn it," Lupin repeated, looking frustrated. "It's too late to forge the kind of close relationship the Weasleys have with their children," he said bluntly. "That needs to be built up over a lifetime. But you have a chance to at least build something more than what you have now, something more than bare tolerance and grudging adherence to duty. And while you may be a stranger to Theodore, at least that means you have the chance to start off with a clean slate." Lupin's lips formed a bitter smile that was better suited to Severus's face. "And Theo's biological family was so horrible that you and Severin look almost good by comparison--a somewhat dubious honor, but you might as well take advantage of it. He respects you, a little--let that grow into something more. He is your grandson, Selima, by your own choice. Be a grandmother to him in truth as well as name."

"Well, you Gryffindors are certainly given to self-righteous speeches," Selima replied, trying for an indignant tone, but it came out a little shaky.

Lupin leaned in close and said to her softly, "You and Severus are the same. You've built up walls around yourselves to keep everyone at bay and keep from being hurt. The only problem is, it starts to get a bit lonely in there after awhile, doesn't it?"

"You have no right to speak to me this way," Selima whispered.

"Tearing down those walls is the hardest thing Severus has ever done," Lupin persisted. "It's not easy, and the work still isn't complete, and maybe it never will be, but at least he's trying. I built a few walls of my own, and I know how scary it can be to risk letting someone else inside--"

"I am not afraid!" Selima snapped.

Lupin smiled, looking almost smug. "Then prove it," he said. "Match your son's bravery."

Selima realized that Lupin was using her pureblood pride to trap her, and she was furious, yet at the same time felt a bit of grudging respect for him. It was an almost Slytherin bit of manipulation. "I need prove nothing to you! I owe you nothing, werewolf!"

"No, you don't," Lupin agreed. "You owe it to Severus."

"I am not capable of loving anyone!" Selima protested, feeling almost panicky; damn the werewolf for making her feel this way! "Whatever capacity I had for love was burned out decades ago!"

"I don't believe that's true, Selima," Lupin said quietly.

"I didn't give you permission to use my name!"

"I didn't ask," Lupin said calmly.

Selima stared at him for a moment, then began to laugh, a little hysterically. "I can't believe that time and again, I have been outmaneuvered by a werewolf! You would have made a good merchant, Lupin!"

"I'm very stubborn," Lupin said with a smile, "and quite annoying, or so I am often told."

"I don't know how," Selima said helplessly. "I don't know where to start."

"Well, you can't do it all at once," Lupin said practically. "I think we're both agreed that Severus might have a stroke if you suddenly tried to smother him with hugs and kisses." Selima snorted, in a very unladylike manner, and Lupin smiled. "You need to start off slowly, I think, with small gestures." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, you've both made a good start." Selima gave him a puzzled look, and he explained, "You agreed, however grudgingly, to accept me and Theodore and Dylan as part of Severus's life; you agreed to accept Theodore as the Snape heir even though he is not of your blood. For Severus's part, he returned home when you asked him to. I'm not sure you understand how hard it was for him, not just to come back, but to spend the weekend here and sleep under this roof once again. This house holds many painful memories for him." He said it matter-of-factly, not accusingly, but Selima still found herself flushing. Then Lupin smiled and said softly, "But it holds a few good memories for him now, too, because he is now a father, and the boys are here with him. Continue as you have been doing, Lady Selima, and try to build on that gradually. You could invite us to tea again, for example, and discuss the Snape histories with Theodore; he seems to enjoy them. You could take Theo to see some of the businesses the Snape family owns, as you suggested during an earlier visit. It would probably gain you some points with Severus if you invited Dylan, too. You could come see Theo and Dylan play Quidditch in their upcoming match next month."

"I'll...try," Selima said hesitantly. In the end, it was not so much duty or guilt or some hidden streak of Gryffindorish sentimentality that made her give in, but simply the fear of being alone, left in this huge mansion with no company but an elderly house-elf. Selima, who had always believed herself to be independent and self-reliant, was chagrined to discover this unexpected weakness, but could no longer deny that it was there.

There was a knock at the door. "Mother?" Severus called. "Are you in here?"

"Severus?" Selima said, startled, and her son took that as permission to enter.

He stared at her, looking shocked and even a little concerned. "Are you all right, Mother?" he asked, sounding alarmed.

Selima suddenly realized that she must be quite a sight--red eyes, tear-stained face, and smudged make-up. "I'm fine, Severus," she said in a cool voice.

He stared at her suspiciously. "Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, I can ask Madam Pomfrey to take a look at you--"

"I'm fine, Severus," she repeated firmly, feeling strangely touched and a little hopeful that he sounded so concerned. She wondered if she'd been spending too much time with the werewolf; perhaps Gryffindor sentimentality was contagious.

"And what are you doing here, Lupin?" Severus asked his lover, still looking suspicious.

Lupin shrugged. "I'm not used to formal gatherings like these; I just wanted to get away from the crowd for a little bit, and so did Lady Selima. We were just talking and--" He smiled and held up his empty glass. "--sharing some of Lord Severin's cognac."

Lupin's response didn't do anything to ease Severus's suspicions. "Well," he said, looking back and forth from Lupin to Selima, "you've both been gone for awhile, and the guests are starting to ask where you are, Mother."

"I had a headache," Selima said. "I just needed to rest for a bit."

"Surely a new widow is entitled to a little privacy if she wants," Lupin interjected.

"It was Mother who reminded me many times today," Severus said sarcastically, "that we have a duty to our guests." Lupin glared at him, and he added, "But if you're really not feeling well, Mother, I'll make your excuses. I can't say that I would be sorry to see this party come to an end."

"No," Selima said quickly, rising to her feet. "I'm fine now. Let me go freshen up, and I'll be out in a few minutes."

"All right," Severus said, still looking rather confused. "I'd better get back; I've left Theodore in the ballroom as the sole Snape representative. Are you coming, Lupin?"

"Yes," Lupin said cheerfully. "Come, let's go rescue poor Theodore."

Selima went to the bathroom, and when she looked into the mirror, she saw that she did indeed look a fright--no wonder Severus had been worried! She washed her face, but didn't bother reapplying any makeup, pulling the veil down over her face to disguise her still-red eyes and lack of cosmetics. If people thought she looked a little pale, well, she was a grieving widow, after all.

She returned to the reception, assuring her guests that she was fine, and had only needed to rest for a few minutes. Despite Severus's concerns, Theodore seemed to be holding his own, but then, he had been trained as a pureblood heir even before he became a part of the Snape family. Priscilla Parkinson was sending some thinly-veiled barbs Theodore's way as her granddaughter Pansy shot her annoyed looks in return.

"It's a pity that you had to give up the Nott estate, Theodore, but I suppose it's just as well. Becoming a Snape is a step up, and it's best not to be tainted by association with the Death Eaters..."

"Grandmother!" Pansy snapped.

"What, dear?" Priscilla asked innocently. "I am only stating a fact..."

Theodore's face remained calm and bland as he replied, "No, it's fine, Pansy. It is a pity that Thaddeus and Marta Nott--" Selima noticed that he carefully avoided calling them his parents, which would have been a social blunder, as it would imply that he still considered himself a Nott instead of a Snape. "--were misled by false promises into making unwise choices, but so were many others." He paused to take a sip from his glass--water, not wine--while Priscilla's face turned a little red at that subtle reminder that her family had also fallen prey to Lucius Malfoy's blandishments, even though they had not joined the Death Eaters. "But I am sure that Terrence will be a good caretaker of the Nott estate," Theodore finished, smiling at Priscilla politely.

Lupin was standing nearby talking with one of the Hogwarts teachers, but Selima could see that he was keeping an eye on Theodore, and was probably ready to intervene if things got heated. Clearly that wasn't going to be necessary, though, and Lupin had an amused smile on his face. From across the room, Severus was scowling and casting suspicious glances in the Parkinsons' direction as he tried to extricate himself from a conversation with the Baddocks.

As Priscilla pouted (which looked ridiculous in a woman her age), obviously annoyed that Theodore hadn't risen to her baiting, Selima glided over and said, "You were just a little girl when I saw you last, Pansy--what a lovely young woman you have grown into. Don't you think so, Theodore?"

"Yes, Grandmother," he replied politely.

"Thank you, Lady Selima," Pansy said. "Are you feeling better? Grandmother said you weren't feeling well."

"I am very well, thank you. I just needed to rest for a little while." Selima laid a hand on her grandson's arm. "Your father is looking cranky, Theodore," she said lightly. "Come, let us rescue the Baddocks from him before he loses his temper. Please excuse us, Priscilla, Pansy." As she led Theodore away from the Parkinsons, she whispered, "Well done."

Theodore smiled; it made him look younger and more vulnerable than he normally appeared. "Thank you, Grandmother. Are you really all right? The Prof--I mean, Father was worried about you."

"I'm fine," Selima assured him. They joined Severus, who looked relieved to be rescued from more meaningless polite chitchat, and the Baddock children looked relieved to rescued from their irate Potions Master, although their father was a little reluctant to end the conversation, as he was trying to get Severus to see that Malcolm got some playing time in Slytherin's upcoming Quidditch match.

"Dad, please!" a nervous and embarrassed Malcolm protested.

"You'll have to talk to Draco about it," Severus said impatiently. "He's the team captain."

"Please excuse us," Selima said sweetly. "I need to borrow my son for a moment."

"What do you need, Mother?" Severus asked as they walked away.

"For you not to kill Mr. Baddock," Selima said dryly, and Severus actually laughed, a curt and harsh, but genuinely amused sound.

"I need a drink," he sighed, and signaled to one of the house-elves.

Much later, after all the guests were gone, Selima, Severus, Lupin, Dylan, and Theodore almost literally collapsed in the drawing room with exhaustion.

"Thank Merlin!" Severus said fervently. "I thought this day would never end! I swear there would have been blood spilled if I had to thank someone for their sympathies one more time, or listen to one more of Priscilla Parkinson's snide little comments..."

"She does seem to be a little...er...catty," Lupin said, with his usual polite understatement.

"She's a bitch," Selima said bluntly, taking a sip from her glass of wine. "Always has been."

Lupin stared at her in shock, and Severus asked, "Just how much have you had to drink, Mother?"

"No more than you, Severus," Selima replied.

"That's not saying much," Lupin pointed out, "considering that I've lost track of how many glasses of wine Severus had."

"I needed those in order to get through the day without using an Unforgivable Curse on one or more of the guests," Severus protested, and the boys laughed a little. "So what did the bitch--"

"Severus!" Lupin snapped.

Severus grinned. "Excuse me, I mean, what did Priscilla say to you earlier, Theodore?"

"How lucky I was to be a Snape since the Notts were tainted by association with the Death Eaters," Theodore replied.

Severus scowled. "I take it back, she is a bitch!"

"It's all right," Theodore said calmly. "She's nothing compared to the Death Eaters; you should have heard the way they used to talk about each other behind their backs...well, actually, I guess you would know about that. And she's all talk--it's not as if she's going to back it up with a Cruciatus Curse or something." Selima saw Lupin smile at the boy sadly, and remembered what he had said in the study, that she and Severin looked good in comparison to Theodore's real parents. She supposed that Priscilla probably seemed annoying but harmless to a boy who had lived among the Death Eaters all his life.

"Theodore handled her perfectly," Selima assured her son. "He managed to be polite, yet put her in her place at the same time." She turned to Theodore. "You did well today, child; you conducted yourself as a proper Snape heir should." Theodore smiled proudly, and Severus gave his mother a thoughtful look. Selima recalled Lupin's advice, to reach out to her son with small gestures, and said, "Thank you, Severus."

"For what?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"For coming to the funeral and going through with the ceremony and reception." She gave him a wry smile. "And for keeping your temper under control and not telling Priscilla or any of the other guests to go to hell."

"I did not want to return home and resume my role as heir," Severus said stiffly. "But I agreed to, so that Theodore might have an inheritance, and I will stand by my word and do my duty as a Snape."

Selima felt a twinge of bitter amusement at having her own words thrown back in her face, although Severus was not aware of what she had discussed with Lupin. She sighed wearily and said, "You are more like your father than you know, Severus."

Her son scowled and said, "There's no need to be insulting, Mother."

"It wasn't meant as an insult, Severus," Selima snapped. "Your father had his faults, but he was always a man of his word." She saw Lupin glaring at Severus, then said with a small smile, "But we had better stop arguing, or Professor Lupin will be cross with us."

Lupin laughed, and Severus regarded his lover and mother warily. "The two of you are starting to worry me," he muttered.

Vorcher entered the room and bowed. "Everything has been cleaned up, and the Hogwarts elves have gone back to the school, Mistress."

"Good work, Vorcher," Selima said, and the house-elf sniffled and rubbed at his eyes.

"Vorcher misses Master," the house-elf whimpered, as Severus stared at it, a combination of incredulity and distaste on his face. "But," Vorcher continued wistfully, "it was a grand funeral, with many important people. Surely Master would be proud."

"I'm sure he would be, Vorcher," Lupin said gently.

Vorcher sniffled a little more, then seemed to pull himself together. "Will Master Severus and Master Theodore and their friends be staying for dinner?"

"All Master Severus wants to do right now is sleep," Severus groaned.

"We should all get some rest," Selima agreed. "It's been a long day. Prepare something light, Vorcher, that can be kept cold. I'm not sure what time we'll be eating." Or if they would be eating; although Selima had eaten little during the day, she was not at all hungry, and felt as if she could sleep straight through till tomorrow evening.

"Yes, Mistress."

Severus frowned. "I told the Headmaster that I would resume classes tomorrow. Perhaps we should go back to the school now..."

Although the mansion had been much too big for just her and Severin, the space and solitude had never bothered Selima before, but suddenly, the house seemed bleak and empty with her husband gone. Which was odd, because she had never loved him, and they had essentially lived separate lives throughout most of their marriage. But once again she felt that unfamiliar and unwelcome pang of fear that had manifested earlier in the study with Lupin. "Everyone is tired, Severus," she said, trying to keep her voice cool and brisk. "Just stay here tonight; you can go back tomorrow morning."

"The Headmaster told you to take as much time off as you needed, Severus," Lupin said sternly.

"But Lupin--" Severus protested.

"Besides," Lupin said cheerfully, "I'm not sure you'll be in any condition to teach tomorrow morning, considering how much you've had to drink today. You might as well take tomorrow off; you can go back and terrorize your Potions students on Tuesday. And you might want to brew some hangover remedy before you go to bed."

Severus groaned, and the boys laughed. Although they looked tired as well, they seemed to be in better shape than the adults, probably because they hadn't been allowed to drink any alcohol at the reception. Severus must have been tired, because he gave in without further argument. "All right," he said. "I'll send Dumbledore a message that we're taking one more day off."

"I'll send it, Professor," Dylan volunteered. "If I can borrow Socrates, that is." Selima nodded.

"Thank you, Dylan," Severus said wearily. "I'm going to bed now, then." He left the room with Lupin, and Vorcher scurried off to the kitchen. Selima doubted that anyone but the boys would be hungry--or even awake--when dinnertime arrived, and they could simply have fended for themselves and eaten leftovers from the reception, but it was probably best to keep Vorcher busy. Often house-elves fell to pieces and became useless when their Masters died, usually temporarily, but it could become permanent if one wasn't careful; it was just as well that there was no butterbeer in the house. But keeping Vorcher busy and reminding him of his duty to the surviving Snape family members should keep him out of trouble.

Selima got up to head to her own bed, but Dylan called out, "Excuse me, Lady Selima, but I was wondering if it would be all right if Theo and I used Lord Severin's workshop to brew a potion."

"What potion?" Selima asked.

"I think that Remus was only joking when he said that the Professor should brew a hangover potion, but, well..." Dylan smiled mischievously. "I think he really might need one when he wakes up. I've never seen him drink so much before, not even at the Yule Ball, when he made it clear that it was the last place he wanted to be."

Selima noticed that Dylan politely refrained from mentioning how much she had drunk today, which was probably at least equal to whatever Severus had consumed, if not more. "Actually," she said with a cool smile, "everyone was quite civil today, considering how much alcohol was flowing amongst all the guests. When the dowager Lady Bletchley died a few years back, one of the Bletchley cousins got drunk, then picked a fight with his brother and turned him into a toad. A fluorescent green toad with pink spots; he slurred the incantation and inadvertently altered the spell, which in addition to the unusual color, made the hex rather difficult to remove. Even after poor Henry was restored to human form, it still took the spots--and the urge to snap at passing flies--about a week to fade."

The boys laughed. "So, can we use the workshop?" Dylan asked again.

"You may," Selima said, "but Severin hasn't used it for quite some time, and I'm not sure what ingredients are still there."

"The Professor showed us the workshop when he was giving us a tour of the house the first time we came over for dinner," Dylan replied. "It still seems to have the basic potion ingredients we'll need, and if we're missing anything, I can ask one of my friends at Hogwarts to owl it to me."

"Then feel free to use the workshop," Selima told him. "It's very considerate of you; I'm sure that Severus will appreciate your efforts." She smiled ruefully. "It's possible that I might, too."

Dylan smiled, but just said politely, "Then we'll send the Professor's message to Hogwarts and get to work."

Selima watched them leave, feeling a little bemused. Up until now, she had regarded the Rosier boy's presence as a necessary inconvenience, but he was always polite and well-spoken, and she had to admit that he had inherited Evan's considerable charm. Severus and Lupin treated Theodore and Dylan as if they were real brothers, and the boys certainly behaved as though they were, and Selima suddenly had the odd thought that she seemed to have acquired two grandsons for the price of one. Then she shook her head; her thoughts were being muddled by fatigue and alcohol and stress. She decided to go upstairs and get some rest, and sort out her complicated family relationships later.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Snape started to undress for bed, Lupin caught sight of the signet ring on his hand, and gently grasped Snape's hand and examined the ring. It was a heavy, ornate gold ring carved with the Snape family crest of a serpent curved into an "S" shape.

Snape looked down at the ring, a weary look on his face. "I never thought I'd be wearing this one day," he said softly.

Lupin kissed Snape's hand, then released it. He bowed in an exaggeratedly courtly manner and said, "Lord Snape."

Snape found his gloomy mood lifting a little. "Then will you play Lady Snape, Lupin?" he asked with a smile. "And throw tea parties for the wives of the pureblood elite?"

"No, I think I will leave that to your mother!" Lupin laughed.

"Speaking of my mother, Lupin, what were the two of you talking about in the study?" Snape asked.

Lupin hesitated. "I sort of promised that I wouldn't tell you."

"That probably means you were talking about me," Snape said, his lips forming something that was halfway between a smile and a grimace.

"Not just you, Severus," Lupin said, his face serious and a little worried now. "I don't know if it was the stress or the cognac, but Lady Selima let down her guard a little, and talked to me about your father and her marriage."

"The thought of you and my mother having a cozy heart-to-heart chat is a little scary, Lupin," Snape said sardonically.

Lupin smiled, but it didn't really reach his eyes. "She didn't really tell me much, Severus," he said quietly, "but from what little she did say, I get the impression that she's had a difficult life. Think what it must have been like for her, an eighteen year old girl, coming to live with a complete stranger twice her age. And even in his younger days, I doubt that Lord Severin was easy to get along with."

Snape just grunted; Lupin had said something similar after their first visit together to Snape Manor, and the logical part of Snape's mind knew that he was right. However, it was difficult to picture his cool, imperious mother as a young girl, nervous and unhappy about going into an arranged marriage with a much older man. And having resented her for almost his entire life, it was even more difficult to let go of his animosity, although he knew that he was probably being petty. He didn't want to be objective about it, because that might mean that he would have to feel sorry for her, and he didn't want to feel sorry for his mother; he wanted to continue hating her.

"When I went after her," Lupin continued, "I knew that she didn't really want my company, so I asked if there was someone she would like to stay with her...a family member, a friend. But there was no one she could think of that she wanted to comfort her. She laughed in my face when I asked her if she wanted me to get her mother or brother, and when I asked her if she would prefer to have a friend stay with her, do you know what she told me? That she had none. That she had no real friends, only political allies. That seems like a very lonely life to me, Severus." Snape remained silent, and Lupin said softly, "You and I know better than anyone what it's like to be lonely."

"You want me to forgive her," Snape said in a flat voice, crossing his arms over his chest, a stubborn expression on his face. "But I don't think that my mother wants my forgiveness; she doesn't believe that she has done anything wrong." A troubled, almost torn look passed across Lupin's face, and Snape exclaimed, "Merlin's beard, Lupin! What on earth did my mother say to you?" Surely Lady Selima could not have been talking to Lupin about loneliness and forgiveness...could she?

Lupin hesitated for a long moment. "Perhaps you should ask your mother that," he finally said. "If you want to talk about forgiveness, or lack thereof, you should be talking to her directly, anyway."

"I don't want to talk to her about anything!" Snape said grumpily. "You're the one who brought it up."

"You came home, Severus," Lupin said, clasping Snape's hand again, and--not so incidentally--the Snape signet ring.

"Only for Theodore's sake," Snape said.

Lupin sighed, in that very familiar long-suffering way of his, then said patiently. "She has made an effort, you know. She's accepted me and Dylan as part of your life, included us in the invitations--"

"Only because she knows I won't come here without you," Snape muttered.

Lupin's vast store of patience seemed to be running out. "Severus Snape!" he said irritably. "I know that she has done so only grudgingly, and that she hasn't been very gracious about it, but do you really think that it was easy for your mother to welcome a werewolf into her home? Your oh-so-proper mother, who is the very epitome of a pureblood snob?"

Snape gave Lupin a puzzled look, and something suddenly dawned on him. "You like my mother, don't you?"

Lupin smiled, his eyes filled with affection and a hint of mischief. He slipped his arms around Snape and nuzzled his neck, saying, "I have a soft spot for arrogant, ill-tempered Slytherins." Snape laughed a little and pulled Lupin closer, holding him tightly; after this very long and trying day, it felt good to hold to hold Lupin in his arms. "But seriously," Lupin said, "I don't know if I can say that I like her exactly, but I admire your mother. It seems to me that she has survived things that would have broken a weaker person. Although..." Lupin smiled sadly. "I suspect she has unseen scars, as do you and I, Severus." Snape sighed, not quite ready to give in yet, but too tired to argue with Lupin. "And I like her a little better after watching her today. She stood up for Narcissa when those horrible women were sneering at her and making nasty comments--"

"Whatever happened to being fair, Lupin?" Snape interjected with a touch of sarcastic humor. "Maybe those horrible women had terrible childhoods or were forced into unhappy marriages, too."

"Shush," Lupin scolded, laying a finger across Snape's lips. "Don't interrupt. Besides, those women aren't my lover's mother, and there is a limit to even my Gryffindorish good nature."

Snape grinned. "Glad to hear it, Lupin."

"Shush," Lupin repeated, kissing Snape lightly on the mouth. "Now where was I? Oh yes, I saw Selima stand up for Narcissa and rescue her from those vultures. And I saw her smile at Theodore, when he put Priscilla Parkinson in her place. She even praised him, didn't she? She said that he had done well and behaved like a proper heir."

"Yes," Snape said slowly. Rescuing Narcissa like that was extremely out of character for his mother; the way she had smiled at and praised Theodore was less so, but it was still unusual for Lady Selima's icy attitude to thaw even that much. "Perhaps it was the alcohol; I've never seen my mother drink that much before. She didn't seem drunk, but then again, I've never seen her inebriated, so I wouldn't know what to expect."

"Your mother wasn't drunk, Severus," Lupin told him, then smiled. "At least, no more so than you. Although possibly the alcohol, in combination with the stress, might have lowered her inhibitions a little."

Snape was a little more inclined to, if not forgive, at least regard his mother with less hostility so long as she treated Theodore well, but he was too tired to organize his thoughts coherently. "Can we talk about this later, Lupin? I'm exhausted, and I can't think straight."

"Of course, love," Lupin said gently, looking a little guilty. They undressed and climbed into bed, and Snape almost immediately fell into a deep slumber, wrapped in Lupin's arms.

 

Part 61