Aftermaths, Part 7

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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Draco, who had once ruled over Slytherin like a king, now found himself a pariah. Like his mother's false friends, the students who had once flattered him and curried his favor now avoided him. Crabbe and Goyle had remained friendly, but their mothers had forbidden them to see him. He had not heard from any of his other cronies--Rosier, Nott, Parkinson, and Bulstrode--since school had let out. In fact, Pansy's mother, who had once been Narcissa's friend, who had been pushing for a marriage between her daughter and Draco, suddenly dropped her matchmaking attempts and no longer responded to Narcissa's calls or letters. It didn't exactly break Draco's heart to learn that he would not marry Pansy after all, but it was one more sign of how he had come down in the world. Even Brad Doherty, who had always fawned over Draco, hoping for entrance into the inner circle of the Slytherin elite, no longer paid him any heed. Instead, after the battle, he--along with Crabbe and Goyle--had taken to following Lupin around like a puppy, with a look of hero worship in his eyes. Draco was not completely bereft of companions, but he found himself keeping some rather odd company.

There were the visits to the Pierce house, of course, which helped break the tedium of what would otherwise have been a very lonely and boring summer. Draco and his mother had also taken to visiting the Averys; Narcissa and Delia had never been close before, but as the only two pardoned Death Eaters, they were developing a friendship borne of necessity, since almost no one else would associate with them.

The lack of companionship didn't seem to bother Delia, who had lost some of her cringing demeanor. She was still quiet and soft-spoken, but the ever-present fear had vanished from her eyes, replaced by a sense of calm, even at the prospect of losing the family estate.

Narcissa and Delia were sitting at the kitchen table one morning, discussing the fines that the Ministry was threatening to levy against them. Narcissa was quite worried, but Delia just shrugged indifferently and took a sip of tea. "The Ministry will get little enough out of us; they will no doubt be surprised when they find out that our account at Gringotts contains but a pittance. Andreas lived beyond his means, trying to keep up the pretense--which fooled no one, of course--that he was the equal of the Malfoys and the other prominent pureblood families."

Narcissa flushed. "I'm sorry, Delia."

Delia shrugged again. "It's not your fault. My husband was a fool."

"But if you can't pay the fines--"

"Dumbledore hired a lawyer to defend us," Delia said, smiling a little. "Severus was right about the Headmaster believing in second chances. Or perhaps he is simply concerned about Serafina. But either way, I am grateful. The lawyer says that we may have to sell the house to pay off the fines, but there should be enough left to rent an apartment and keep us fed and clothed. Not indefinitely, of course, but long enough to see Sera through school, and for me to find a job and get back on my feet."

Narcissa looked horrified. "Sell the house? Work? Are you sure that lawyer of yours is any good? Perhaps you should talk to mine--"

"He seems competent," Delia said calmly. "And I intend to sell the house no matter what happens, fines or no fines. It's too big for just the two of us, and it holds...unpleasant memories. We would be much happier in a smaller, cozier place, I think."

"Is that really all right with you?" Draco asked Serafina dubiously. They were sitting in the living room, listening in on their mothers' conversation in the kitchen. At least, Draco was trying to eavesdrop; Serafina had her nose buried in a book as usual, and didn't seem to be paying attention to anything else.

But she had been paying attention, it seemed, because without looking up from the book, she answered, "Yes. The house is too big for us to look after, anyway--especially since we don't have a house-elf. My father always hated it that your family and the Notts had one and we didn't. He was actually happy when Potter freed Dobby and Thaddeus Nott killed his house-elf."

That was not really surprising; Andreas Avery had always toadied up to Lucius Malfoy the way the students in Slytherin toadied up to Draco, but Draco had noticed the jealousy and resentment that lurked just below the surface. It had not bothered him at the time, though, since it seemed to be the natural order of things for people to envy the Malfoys, the most wealthy and powerful of the pureblood families. "But don't you mind losing your house?" Draco asked. "Losing your money, being forced to live like a...a...?"

"Commoner?" Serafina asked, with a hint of ironic amusement. "A peon? No. Mother is right, this house is full of bad memories: my father hitting me and my mother, my father plotting with Thaddeus, my father bragging about all the people he killed and tortured. I don't really care about money, Draco. So long as we have enough to live on, I'm fine."

Draco found that hard to believe, but she seemed to be sincere. Then again, Serafina had never cared about fancy clothes and expensive toys; all she really cared about were her books. She was a strange girl, but she had been nice to him after the battle, in her own way. He had thought that she hated him, but she had held him while he wept over his father, and when his mother came over to commiserate with Delia, he and Serafina talked. Or rather, Draco talked, and Serafina said little, but listened attentively. The first time he had come over to the Averys' with his mother, Draco had found himself pouring out his heart to Serafina, talking about his father and how hard he had tried to be a worthy son and make Lucius proud of him, and how it had hurt that he had never seemed able to win his father's approval. Then he suddenly stopped, appalled at himself for his lack of control, for babbling like an idiot; but Serafina had only nodded solemnly, her usually emotionless violet eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. Draco began to look forward to these visits as much as he did the ones to the Pierces' house, for different reasons. With Damien, he could laugh at the other boy's jokes and play Gobstones or Exploding Snap, as if everything were normal, temporarily forgetting his troubles. With Serafina, he could talk about his father, which he couldn't do at home, because it made his mother look sad and guilty and frightened--if he tried to talk about Lucius, his mother seemed to take it as a sign that he was angry at her for what she had done. And sometimes he was, a little, but he also loved her for it, and he didn't want to make her feel worse than she already did. But Serafina listened calmly, without judgment, when Draco reminisced about some fond childhood memory of his father, or conversely, when he talked about how angry he was at his father for betraying him.

"What are you reading, anyway?" he asked, after a short silence.

Serafina held up the book so that he could see the cover. "A book on Japanese shapeshifters; it's really quite fascinating. It contains legends about the kitsune, the tanuki, the tengu, and the crane people. You can borrow it if you like, but you have to promise to take good care of it, because it belongs to Professor Lupin."

{All the Slytherins seem to adore Lupin now,} Draco thought, mildly annoyed yet amused at the same time. Then he remembered the time when he had been upset about his father not caring about his Quidditch victory against Gryffindor, and how Lupin had invited him into his office for tea, and how his conversation with the werewolf had made him feel a little better. And he remembered how Lupin was always friendly to him and the other Slytherins, no matter how rude they were, and how Lupin had docked points from Gryffindor when Potter and Weasley had been gloating about Draco's father being in prison. He reluctantly admitted to himself that he liked Lupin, too, and accepted the book that Serafina held out to him.

He flipped through the pages; it did look pretty interesting, and he'd been wanting to learn more about the tengu ever since taking lessons from Master Karasu. "Thanks," Draco said. Then, remembering what Damien had told him about friends doing nice things for each other, hesitantly offered, "You could come over to our house sometime, and see if there's anything you'd like to borrow from our library." In keeping with the grandeur of their mansion, the Malfoys had an extensive library filled with rare and expensive tomes. The Aurors had confiscated a few books on the Dark Arts, but bulk of it remained intact.

"Really?" Serafina said, her eyes lighting up. "Thanks!" Draco noted with bemusement that she was almost pretty when she smiled; he had never noticed that before, because she had never smiled at school. Draco found himself smiling back at her; maybe this friendship thing wasn't so hard, after all.

But Damien and Serafina were both Slytherins, at least. Far more disconcerting was the time he spent with his mother's cousin, Sirius Black--and perforce, Black's godson, Harry Potter. Black seemed sincere about accepting Narcissa and Draco as family: the Malfoy account at Gringotts was frozen pending a final decision about the fines to be levied against the Death Eaters, except for a small amount allotted as living expenses, so Black was paying for the lawyer who was representing Narcissa. He also invited them over to dinner regularly. Those meals were incredibly awkward, to put it mildly, with Narcissa and Sirius making stilted, strained attempts at conversation. Their intentions were good, but they had little in common, and it was difficult to make harmless small talk when pureblood politics and the Death Eaters were forbidden topics of conversation, and when Black bristled every time Draco or Narcissa accidentally let slip a disparaging remark about Muggles or Mudbloods. It was even harder to relax with the notorious Professor Blackmore sitting at the dinner table with them, not to mention Bane giving Draco the evil eye as he ate; it seemed that the raven had neither forgotten nor forgiven the bunny-hex incident. However, much to Draco's surprise, Blackmore behaved in an almost kindly and motherly manner towards both himself and Narcissa, quite at odds with her normal classroom demeanor. In fact, she helped ease the tension at the dinner table by reminiscing about the days she had taught at Hogwarts when Black and Narcissa were students there. She avoided mention of the Death Eaters or Lucius Malfoy, and merely shared humorous anecdotes about some mischief that Black or Narcissa or Dylan's father had gotten mixed up in. Draco was surprised to learn that his mother, the very picture of decorum, had once gotten detention for sneaking out of the dorm with Damien's mother and some other Slytherin girls to meet some boys after curfew, or that she had once snuck into the Potions Master's office on a dare to steal some ingredients for a love potion.

"Some things never change," Blackmore said one night with an amused smile, no doubt recalling the Hufflepuff students who had been caught by Snape committing a similar theft for the same reason last year.

Narcissa blushed and smiled sheepishly. "I was just a silly thirteen-year old girl," she laughed. "We did some dumb things back then."

Black chuckled and said in a voice that was both nostalgic and rueful, "We all did."

Meanwhile, Draco and Harry Potter found themselves feeling even more uncomfortable than Black and Narcissa did. It felt downright weird to be having dinner with a Gryffindor, and not just any Gryffindor, but his (former?) archenemy. Potter did not really seem hostile, though, but rather looked as if he didn't know what to say or how to act. They each pushed their food around their plates with their forks, eyeing each other warily.

"Have you decided which N.E.W.T.s you intend to take next year, Draco?" Blackmore asked casually, in an obvious attempt to break the ice and draw him into the conversation.

Draco gave her a nervous look; he wasn't used to Blackmore either addressing him by his first name or speaking to him kindly. It was almost as shocking as Snape showing up at the Slytherin dorm with mugs of hot chocolate.

"Give the kid a break, Branwen!" Black protested, before Draco had a chance to reply. "Summer vacation just started, after all. Give him a chance to enjoy it before grilling him about exams!" Draco didn't bother to tell him that he wasn't really "enjoying" his summer vacation. He wasn't sure which was worse: spending a boring summer as a social outcast, or going back to school and having to face everyone, knowing that the entire school knew how far the Malfoys had fallen.

"I've never been of the opinion that children should let their brains rot during the summer, Sirius," Blackmore retorted in a tone of cool sarcasm. "Their minds need to be kept active in order to remain sharp."

"You'd assign homework during the summer if you could," Sirius said accusingly.

"Hmm, now that's an idea," Blackmore said in a musing tone.

"Thanks a lot, Sirius," Potter said, giving his godfather a disgruntled look, and Blackmore laughed merrily--another startling and unfamiliar sight.

"In any case," Blackmore continued, "I was merely making conversation. But it is important for Mr. Malfoy--and Mr. Potter, for that matter--to decide in advance which N.E.W.T.s they wish to take, since it is a prerequisite for certain professions. Have you given any thought as to what you will do after you graduate, Draco?"

"I dunno," Draco said, a little sullenly. "Dad was going to fix me up with a Ministry job, but..." His voice trailed off.

"You have many options still open to you, Draco," Blackmore said briskly. There was no hint of pity in her eyes or voice, for which Draco was grateful--being pitied was even worse than being sneered at or shunned. "Severus says that you have a talent for potion-brewing, and Remus was quite pleased with your work in his class, as well. And I must admit, your work in my class has been of high caliber--when you stopped feuding with the Gryffindors long enough to concentrate, that is." Both Draco and Potter blushed. "It might be difficult to make a living as a Summoner, though. People seem to have the misconception that Summoning spells are Dark Magic, even though that isn't true, strictly speaking, although they can be put to evil purposes."

"That's partly your own fault, Branwen," Black pointed out. "After you disappeared, people assumed that one of your Summonings had gone awry, and that you'd been carried off by a horde of demons or something."

"What did happen to you, anyway?" Narcissa asked her former teacher apprehensively. "The Daily Prophet was very vague about that, and the Headmaster's explanations weren't much more enlightening."

Blackmore smiled. "I was carried off by an ally I had summoned, but for my own safety. Bane and I were badly wounded after the battle with the Death Eaters, and in need of healing. But time passes differently in the realms of the elementals and their like; one day in their world could be a minute or a decade in ours. Like the old tales and legends of people who visited the faerie realm for a single night of dancing and feasting, and returned to find that centuries had passed in their own world, and all the people they knew were dead and gone. I am very fortunate that only fourteen years passed during my absence."

"Fortunate for both of us," Black said with a loving smile, and to Draco's amazement, Professor Blackmore actually blushed! He noticed that Blackmore had not really answered his mother's question, and wondered if her mysterious "ally" was a demon, as everyone seemed to think, but he suspected she wouldn't give him a straight answer--and quite frankly, he wasn't sure that he really wanted to know.

"What about you, Harry?" Blackmore asked. "Have you given any thought as to what sort of career you might be interested in?"

"Well, I wanted to be an Auror, but now that the Death Eaters are--" Potter flushed and abruptly closed his mouth when he saw Narcissa wince. "Um...I mean, I haven't really decided yet."

"Well, you have shown a great aptitude for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Blackmore said, "which is certainly a desirable quality in an Auror, but there are many other things you can do with that specialty--become a Curse-Breaker, for instance. Or you might consider going into Muggle Relations; you have a unique perspective, after all, having lived in both the Muggle and wizarding worlds." Everyone still looked a little uncomfortable, and Blackmore abruptly turned to Sirius and changed the subject. "By the way, dear, I got a letter from Severus the other day."

"Really?" Black asked cautiously. "What did it say?"

"He offered to assist us in restoring Blackmore Manor."

"Snape?" Black said dubiously, raising his eyebrows. "Offering to clean house?"

Blackmore grinned. "He probably wants to get a look at my father's library."

"I should have known," Black said, shaking his head. "Nothing else could make Snape stoop to performing so demeaning a task as housework."

"Oh, I can think of a few other things," Blackmore said with a sly smile, "and they all involve Remus."

"Branwen! Not in front of the kids!"

"What are you talking about, Sirius?" Blackmore asked innocently. "All I meant was that Severus helped Remus and the boys clean up the cottage when they moved in at the start of summer."

Sirius flushed. "You were insinuating--"

"It's not my fault that you have a dirty mind," Blackmore interrupted, and laughed as her fiance glared at her.

Draco noticed that Potter looked just as red as his godfather, but embarrassed rather than angry. Draco had been just as shocked as everyone else to find out that Snape and Lupin were lovers, but the idea of two men having sex with each other was hardly a big deal. In fact, from eavesdropping on his mother's gossip sessions with her friends over the years, he had learned that Snape's peers had long suspected he was gay, mainly because he had never shown any interest in his female classmates at Hogwarts, and because he had never married and sired an heir.

"You Gryffindors are such prudes," Draco drawled, and was pleased to see Potter's blush deepen. "It's not a big deal." He turned to Black and said with a mocking grin, "Though I thank you for trying to protect our virgin ears." Potter's face was now a deep shade of crimson.

Black looked taken aback, and for a moment, Draco thought he'd gone too far. Then his cousin threw his head back and burst out laughing.

"Draco!" Narcissa scolded, but she seemed to be trying to hold back laughter herself.

"I should have known better than to try and protect a Slytherin's tender youthful innocence," Black said, still chuckling. "If Gryffindors are prudes, then Slytherins are sybarites."

"What's a sy...sybarite?" Potter asked.

Before Draco could make a condescending reply, Blackmore explained with an amused smile, "A hedonist; one devoted to pleasure and luxury. But Sirius, I would hardly call the Gryffindors innocents, though perhaps they aren't as jaded as the Slytherins. I seem to recall you getting detention for being caught in a...compromising postion...with a young lady in the Quidditch supplies storeroom...?"

"BRANWEN!" Black howled indignantly. The women started laughing, and so did Draco and Potter, although the Gryffindor boy was still blushing. Even Bane started laughing, in a hoarse, cawing voice. Black glared at them all for a minute, then gave in and laughed as well. "Well," he said ruefully, "there are some disadvantages to marrying your former Professor, I see."

"Behave yourself, Sirius," Narcissa teased, "or she might give you detention," and everyone laughed again. Dinner progressed much more smoothly after that; Draco and Potter didn't say much, but were content to listen to the adults joking around with each other. Draco was pleased to see his mother looking happy and relaxed for a change; it was even worth the discomfort of dining with his Gryffindor rival.

Blackmore gave Narcissa a motherly hug and kiss, and Black gave her a peck on the cheek as they said goodnight. No one tried to hug or kiss Draco, much to his relief.

"Well, uh, see you around, Malfoy," Potter said awkwardly.

"Yeah, see you around, Potter," Draco mumbled.

As he left through the fireplace with his mother, he heard Black say, "Oh, stop looking so smug, Branwen," and Blackmore reply, "Inter-House cooperation, dear."
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Not long after that, a letter arrived from Dylan Rosier, inviting Draco to visit his new home, the cottage he shared with Nott, Lupin, and Snape. The letter said that Pierce was also coming over, although it said nothing about Zabini, which was rather odd. Rosier, Pierce, Nott, and Zabini had all been fast friends ever since Dylan had arrived at Hogwarts during Draco's fourth year. He stared at the letter, wondering why Dylan had invited him over; was it pity? Had either Lupin or Snape put him up to it? He wasn't sure about Snape, whose toadying up to Draco's father had apparently all been an act; on the other hand, Snape--along with Lupin--had saved Draco's life, and seemed genuinely concerned about him. He remembered that late night discussion in the Slytherin dorm, when Snape had said that he had been trying to save Draco from the Death Eaters. Still, despite all the startling things Draco had learned about Snape, he still didn't think that the Potions Master was the sympathetic or sentimental type. However, Lupin was, and he might well have talked Rosier into issuing the invitation. Draco didn't want to be anybody's charity case, but on the other hand, he was bored, and it wasn't like the invitations were pouring in...

"What is it, Draco?" Narcissa asked.

"Rosier's invited me to come visit him and Nott," Draco replied, still not sure whether he should accept or not.

"You should go!" Narcissa said enthusiastically, perhaps relieved that her son was not a total social outcast. "I'm sure it will be fun!" When Draco looked dubious, she added practically, "Besides, Severus is Dylan's guardian now, and it can't hurt to curry a little favor with your Head of House."

Draco scowled; he was used to having people curry favor with him, not the other way around. But his mother looked happy about the invitation, and he didn't want to burst her bubble--she had little enough to smile about these days--so he sent off a reply saying that he would come.
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Lupin suggested a sleepover, but Snape wasn't sure that he was up to supervising four teenage boys all night long. It was true that he was the Head of Slytherin, but he kept separate quarters from the children at school; it wasn't as if he slept in the dorm with them. Snape's parents had not exactly been ideal role models, so sometimes he felt as if he were fumbling in the dark, learning by trial and error how to become a good father to Dylan and Theodore. Dylan was usually calm and self-controlled, but the combination of Damien's mischievousness, Draco's arrogance, and Theodore's sullenness held the potential for trouble, so he thought it would be best to keep their first visit together fairly brief--he didn't want to overtax his rather shaky parenting skills, after all. If things went well, then perhaps the next visit could be an overnight one.

"You worry too much, Severus," Lupin said with an amused look on his face, but didn't argue with him. So it was decided that Damien and Draco would come over Saturday afternoon for a few hours of lunch, Quidditch practice, and whatever else the boys wanted to do to entertain themselves.

"What about studying?" Snape asked pointedly. "That was your original suggestion, after all, Mr. Rosier."

"It's summer vacation, Severus," Lupin chided. "Let them have a little fun."

"We can do some studying, too," Dylan said, without much enthusiasm.

Well, the boys had been very diligent about studying for at least an hour or two every day, Snape conceded to himself. "Oh, never mind, Rosier," Snape said gruffly. "The two of you have been working hard at your chores and your studies; I suppose it's all right if you take a break this once."

Dylan and Theodore stared at him in amazement, then Dylan grinned and said, "Thank you, Professor!"

"But don't think I'm going to let you slack off for the entire summer!" Snape warned.

"Yes, sir," the boys chorused meekly, although they didn't seem to be fooled by his stern tone of voice, because Dylan kept grinning and even Theodore smiled a little. Snape sighed to himself, thinking that yes, he was definitely losing his edge, and it was all Lupin's fault. He glared at his lover, who just laughed and gave him a hug.

"Cut that out, Lupin!"

Lupin ignored him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and the boys giggled. Ah well, all in all, things were going pretty well, Snape supposed. He could finally live openly with his lover, even if that lover seemed to take a perverse pleasure in embarrassing him in public, and at least the werewolf's antics seemed to keep the boys amused. So far Dylan and Theodore had adapted remarkably well to their new life, and Snape knew that was due in great part to Lupin, who instinctively seemed to know when to joke with them and make them laugh, and when to offer a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. So he simply stood there and let Lupin hold him and nuzzle him affectionately, although he made a great show of heaving a long-suffering sigh of resignation.

 

Part 8