Aftermaths, Part 73
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.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
The next morning, as everyone was gathering in the Great Hall for breakfast,
Filch came up to the head table and said, "Amos Diggory is at the gates, and
refuses to go away until he speaks with Master Bleddri. I told him to make an
appointment, or at least come back after classes are over, but he raised a huge
commotion; I'm surprised you couldn't hear him in the castle." The caretaker
looked mightily irritated. "I don't know what the world is coming to these days;
people think they can just march into Hogwarts without a by-your-leave! First
that pompous idiot Terrence Nott and now--"
"Just a moment, Argus," Sprout interrupted, looking a little offended. "Mr.
Diggory should not have been rude to you, but he's been going through some hard
times since Cedric died. Let's show a little compassion towards him." She
included Lukas in that statement by directing a pointed look his way. So far she
had not spoken out against her fellow teacher, but Amos Diggory was a former
Hufflepuff, and the father of a fallen hero of that House, and her sympathies
seemed to be leaning towards Amos.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Filch," Lukas said, giving Sprout a quick glare. "It
seems that my aunt's little chat with my uncle did not go well. I'll go talk to
Amos and send him away."
He rose from his seat, and Snape stood as well, saying, "I'll go with you."
Diggory was unlikely to go away just because his werewolf nephew told him to,
and Snape thought he ought to go along just to make sure that no harm came to
either Diggory or Bleddri. He didn't much care what happened to Amos Diggory,
and he knew that Bleddri was more than capable of defending himself, but he also
knew that if Bleddri attacked Amos, even in self-defense, Amos would likely
press charges against him. And Snape knew he would never hear the end of it from
his mother or Lupin if Bleddri was arrested and sent to Azkaban. Perhaps a
similar thought had occurred to Bleddri, who was usually a little prickly about
accepting help from other people, because he nodded and gave Snape a grateful
look. Lupin, of course, got up and followed them as well. Snape glanced over at
the Hufflepuff table on the way out, and saw Tristan Ames-Diggory staring after
them, looking worried and unhappy.
The trio walked down to the gates, and found Amos Diggory waiting there,
red-faced and fuming with anger. "You have some nerve, offering to give me my
own house!" Amos shouted as soon Lukas walked into view.
"It was only because the thought of you being thrown out on the street seemed to
distress Gwen," Lukas replied in a contemptuous voice.
"You impudent little mongrel!" Amos shouted. "What happened to your
protestations of 'I wouldn't take the title if you handed it to me on a silver
platter'?! I knew all along what you really wanted, that you intended to steal
the inheritance--"
"It was you who stole it in the first place, Uncle," Lukas said, his voice hard
and cold. Meanwhile, Snape unobtrusively positioned his hand near his wand; it
was fortunate that the gates were between Amos and Bleddri right now, because it
was stopping them from physically attacking each other, but spell blasts were
likely to go right through the gaps between the bars. Or maybe not--the entire
school was heavily warded with protective spells, the gates included, but Snape
felt it was better to be safe than sorry.
"That inheritance belonged to my father," Lukas continued. "You complain that I
offered to let you keep your own house? That is more generosity than you showed
me, Uncle. You and my grandfather did not even leave me that much; Gwen told me
how you tore down my father's house and sold the land it stood on. You took from
me everything--my name, my inheritance, my home!"
"The head of a family has the right to name--or disown--an heir," Amos snarled.
"My father would have disowned Cynric if my dear brother had not been
blackmailing him, threatening to go public with your lycanthropy and ruin the
family name! Cynric was not worthy of the title! He squandered the family
wealth, risked our reputation--"
"From what I have heard," Lupin interrupted in a quiet voice, "Cynric did all
these things for love of his son. You are a father; can you not put yourself in
his place? What lengths would you have gone to, if Cedric--?"
"Don't you dare speak my son's name, you beast!" Amos cried, and groped in the
pockets of his robe for his wand, blind with rage.
Snape's wand was out and pointed at Amos in an instant. "Calm yourself,
Diggory," Snape said in a voice that was quiet but filled with menace.
"You dare threaten me?" Amos spluttered.
"You reached for your wand first," Snape pointed out. "I can claim self-defense.
Do you really want to go up against a former Death Eater in combat?"
Amos went pale, and seemed to come to his senses; his hand dropped down to his
side, and Snape lowered his wand. "It's no surprise that a Death Eater would
associate with werewolves," Amos said bitterly.
"These werewolves risked their lives to fight the Death Eaters," Snape said
pointedly. "I don't recall seeing YOU anywhere on the battlefield!"
Amos flushed. "Dumbledore might think you have reformed, Snape, but I don't," he
retorted. "Once a Dark Wizard, always a Dark Wizard. If you switched sides at
the end, it was only because you saw that your side was losing."
"As if the opinion of a coward matters to me," Snape said scornfully, and Amos's
face turned even redder with both anger and shame.
"That's enough, Severus," Lupin said, giving Snape a stern look.
"I know you won't believe me," Lukas told Amos, "but I'm not doing this for the
money." He took a deep breath, and forced himself to speak calmly, wanting to
make his uncle understand how he felt, even though he knew that the attempt
would be futile. "I'm doing this for my father. I had resigned myself to being
an anonymous werewolf, but I want to be Cynric Diggory's son again. And I want
to prove that a werewolf is the equal of any pureblood."
"You're right," Amos said, giving him a hateful look. "I don't believe you."
Lukas fought down the urge to growl and bare his teeth. "I hate you, and you
hate me," he said, glaring back at Amos. "That will never change. But one last
time, I ask you, for Gwendolyn's sake: will you call a truce and settle things
with me amicably? I have agreed to name your nephew as my heir, and you know
that it will only cause your sister pain to see her family feuding in court."
"If you want to spare Gwen pain," Amos said curtly, "then drop your ridiculous
lawsuit! No court of law will ever name a werewolf heir to a pureblood family!"
"Morrigan De Lacy seems to think otherwise," Lukas retorted. "Like all
Slytherins, she is ambitious and self-serving, and she would not take my case if
she did not think she had a good chance of winning."
"And the new Minister of Magic is a known friend of werewolves," Snape added.
"It was he who pushed through the equal rights bill after the war ended. You're
fighting a losing battle, Diggory. If you were wise, you'd give up now, rather
than suffer public humiliation." Snape hesitated; his first impulse was to taunt
Amos and rub his face in the fact that Arthur Weasley, whom Amos had always
treated genially but with a hint of condescension, was now his boss. However,
that would hardly make him more inclined to accept Bleddri's offer of a
settlement, so Snape attempted a rare bit of diplomacy; it was a pity that Lady
Selima wasn't here to see it. "You could put a good face on things," Snape said
in a conciliatory tone. "Make it seem as if you were doing it willingly, ceding
the title out of integrity and generosity, welcoming your long-lost nephew back
into the family fold. If nothing else, it would gain you the goodwill of your
sister and the Minister."
Unfortunately, Snape's attempt at diplomacy failed. "I promised my father that I
would protect the family honor," Amos said, unmoved, "and I will keep that
promise." He glared at Lukas. "Even if you turn my sister against me. She was
just a little girl when Cynric died, and she idolized him, so my parents and I
tried to shield her from the sordid details of his life." Lukas began to growl,
and his yellow-green eyes glittered dangerously. Amos took a step back, but
continued, "Clearly that was a mistake, as you've taken advantage of her naivete
and love for her brother to poison her mind against me, but in time, she will
see that I am doing this for the good of the family."
"Then it is war between us," Lukas snarled. "I will see you in court, Amos, and
you had best hope that I never find out you had anything to do with my father's
death, or a lawsuit will be the very least of your worries!"
Amos turned and ran off, making a show of turning on his heel and stomping off
angrily, but Snape could see how pale and frightened his face looked. "Don't
openly threaten him, Bleddri," Snape said disapprovingly. "He'll only use it
against you. You have to learn to be more subtle; if you snarl at him that way
in court, they'll believe Amos's claim that you're a dangerous beast."
"I know, I know," Lukas sighed, then scowled. "I suppose I'll have to let Lady
Selima polish my manners and show me how to be a proper pureblood." Lupin
chuckled, and Lukas snapped, "It's not funny, Remus!"
"I'm sorry," Lupin said, still laughing, "but I think it's funny how even
werewolves and former Death Eaters are intimidated by Lady Selima!"
"Yes," Lukas agreed dryly. "If Voldemort wanted to rule the world, he should
have recruited Selima, then he need not have bothered with all the other Death
Eaters!"
Snape shuddered. "My mother, the ruler of the wizarding world...now that is
truly a scary thought!" Then the three friends laughed and headed back to the
castle together.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
That weekend, Hufflepuff played against Ravenclaw in the second match of the
season. Tristan's parents came to the match, but Amos and Helen Diggory did not.
Although Tristan was hurt by his uncle's absence, and upset about the feud going
on between Amos and Gwendolyn and Bleddri, he managed not to let it affect his
performance on the Quidditch Pitch. In fact, the game proved a welcome
distraction, and he took joy in speeding after the Snitch, letting the
exhilaration temporarily wipe his worries from his mind. He flew with great
daring and agility; the Snitch suddenly dived straight down and Tristan followed
it without hesitation, although the Ravenclaw Seeker pulled up to avoid hitting
the ground. Tristan reached out and grabbed hold of the Snitch, so close to
crashing that the tip of his broom handle brushed against the ground before he
managed to pull up and straighten out at the last second.
The Hufflepuff students burst into elated cheers, and the Ravenclaw Seeker came
over and shook Tristan's hand. "Good game," he said, with a smile that was both
rueful and respectful. "I don't know whether you're gutsy or crazy or both, but
I can't deny that you deserved to win this one!"
Tristan's parents came down from the stands, his father beaming proudly and
saying, "Great job, son!" while his mother alternately hugged him and scolded
him for that last risky play.
"You could've broken your neck!" she cried. "No game is worth killing yourself
over!" Then she burst into tears and hugged him again.
Even Master Bleddri came over and congratulated him, patting him on the shoulder
a little awkwardly. "Good work, Tristan, but next time try not to make your
mother cry, all right?"
"Yes, sir," he said, beaming up at his teacher/cousin.
Up in the stands, Snape frowned and said sourly, "Just what we needed--another
child prodigy! Hufflepuff could actually be a threat this year."
"A little competition makes the game exciting, Severus," Lupin said with a
smile, and kissed Snape on the cheek.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
"M-Mistress," Vorcher stammered nervously. "There is a guest waiting for you in
the drawing room."
Selima looked up from the financial reports she was going over, a distracted
frown on her face. "Who is it, Vorcher? I wasn't expecting anyone today." She
glanced up at the clock and said, "Severus should still be at school..."
"No, Mistress," Vorcher said, "it isn't Master Severus. It is Mistress Bashir."
"What?!" Selima exclaimed, dropping the reports. "My mother?"
"Yes, Mistress," Vorcher replied, still looking nervous.
From the look on Vorcher's face, Selima guessed that her mother was not in a
very good mood, and she had a pretty good idea why: Amos had turned down Cyril's
offer of an out-of-court settlement, and Morrigan De Lacy had just officially
filed a lawsuit at the Ministry on Cyril's behalf. Gossip always spread quickly
in the wizarding world. Selima sighed and took a moment to compose herself, then
headed downstairs to face the music.
"Good day, Mother; what a pleasure it is to see you," Selima said in the cool,
impersonal tone she used with most people, her family included. "If you had told
me you were coming, I would have had Vorcher prepare some tea. Vorcher--"
Sabra Bashir interrupted Selima before she could send the house-elf down to the
kitchen to make some tea. "That will not be necessary, Daughter," she said in a
cold voice. "I did not come here for tea." There were still remnants of great
beauty visible in her face, spoiled not so much by her gray hair and wrinkles,
but by the cold look in her eyes, and the sharpness of her features. While some
people grew plump with age, Sabra had grown thinner; her face and body seemed to
have been pared down to sharp planes and angles, which were matched by the
knife-sharp edge to her voice.
"Then what did you come here for, Mother?" Selima asked, her face still blankly
polite.
"Don't play games with me, girl!" Sabra snapped. "You know quite well why I have
come. It is bad enough that your son is playing house with a werewolf, without
you throwing fuel on the fire by acquiring a pet werewolf of your own!"
"If you are referring to Cyril Diggory, Mother," Selima replied coolly, "I am
only helping the son of an old friend win back his rightful inheritance."
"Have you gone mad?" Sabra cried. "He is a werewolf! A beast cannot head a
pureblood family! What's next, are you going to let Lupin take over the Snape
family?"
Selima privately thought, with a touch of ironic amusement, that Lupin had--for
all practical purposes--already taken over the Snape family, with the influence
he held over both Severus and Theodore. But all she said was, "Of course not;
Lupin has no Snape blood. But Cyril is a pureblood, the son of the eldest son of
the Diggory clan--"
"He is a werewolf--by definition, his blood cannot be pure!"
Selima shrugged. "I suppose it depends on how you look at it, Mother. Cyril's
parents were both purebloods, of old and respectable lineage."
"Not quite that pure, apparently, if the curse was hidden somewhere in his
bloodline!" Sabra said spitefully.
"It is a matter for the courts to decide, Mother," Selima said, her voice still
cool and calm. "I cannot see how it affects you."
"Cannot see how it affects me?" Sabra asked incredulously. "You bring disgrace
upon your family by associating with this beast, by backing his claim to the
title!"
"Severus is the head of my family now," Selima said, with just the faintest hint
of bitter satisfaction in her voice. "And Lord Snape does not seem to feel that
I am bringing disgrace upon the family."
"I was talking about the Bashirs!" Sabra shouted.
"I did my duty to the Bashir clan when I married Severin," Selima said, her
voice now turning steely as well as cold--the tone of voice that always caused
even her son the former Death Eater to turn pale, although Sabra's expression
did not change. "I owe nothing more to them now. I am a Snape now, not a Bashir."
"Owe nothing?" Sabra cried furiously. "To the clan that gave you life? You sully
our name with your actions, and I will not stand for it, even if Severus doesn't
care!"
"No one can say that I have not done my duty to the clan of my birth," Selima
said, still in that dangerous voice. Vorcher prudently retreated to the doorway,
still close enough to respond promptly should his Mistress summon him,
but--hopefully--out of spell range should the worst happen. The Mistress rarely
did anything but give the object of her wrath a tongue-lashing (although,
personally Vorcher would have preferred a real whipping to Lady Snape's verbal
one), but she was terrible to behold on the rare occasions when she truly lost
control of her temper. She had blasted a vase, a priceless (though admittedly
ugly) five hundred year old Snape heirloom, into smithereens when she had read
in the Daily Prophet that Master Severus and the werewolf were lovers. She had
also, many years ago, temporarily turned her young nephew into a toad when he
had not only insulted the portrait of a Snape ancestor, but defaced it by
touching it with his grubby, chocolate-smeared hands. She had left him in that
form for two hours, hidden beneath an overturned vase, while his family searched
the house and grounds for him. She had finally relented and changed the boy
back, if only because it was clear that Master Bashir wasn't going to leave
without his son, and the Mistress didn't seem to enjoy her brother's company
very much. Mistress had told the boy that she would turn him back into a toad
permanently if he ever told his parents or anyone else what she had done, and as
far as Vorcher could tell, the terrified boy had believed her threat and kept
his promise to remain silent, even when his father scolded him for running off
and hiding. Vorcher, the only other witness to the incident, had also kept
silent, of course.
"The Bashirs benefitted greatly from the marriage I made to the Snape Lord,"
Selima continued. "Enough so that they retained their influence and their
position as the wealthiest merchants in Britain even after Severin fell from
grace and retired from the Ministry. The family wealth and holdings have
increased at least tenfold since I sealed our alliance with the Snapes. You
yourself told me on my wedding day that I belonged now to the Snape family, not
the Bashirs, and bade me serve my husband well and give unto him all due loyalty
and respect. Well, I have done so. The Bashir clan sold me in marriage to a man
twice my age that I barely knew--a homely, arrogant, and ill-tempered man, I
might add--"
"We married you to a great Lord of the pureblood elite!" Sabra retorted. "You
should be grateful to us!"
"But I did my duty without a single word of complaint," Selima continued,
ignoring the interruption. "I made the best of my marriage, and learned to
respect my husband and see his good points. I obeyed him even when I did not
agree with him. I invested Snape funds into Bashir businesses, to the benefit of
both clans. I worked to repair the damage that both Severin and Severus did to
the influence and reputation of the Snape family. I secured an heir and ensured
that the Snape line would not die out when my ungrateful son refused to marry
and sire a child as he should. All my life, I have done my duty, to my parents,
and then to my husband, without complaint. Just this once, I will do something
for me. For Anya's sake, I will see her son be made head of the Diggory family."
"For what?" Sabra spat. "Some girlish childhood friendship? Have you gone mad?"
It is not madness, Mother," Selima said coolly. "And although I am doing this
for friendship's sake, it is not entirely without advantage to the Snape family.
If my venture is successful, then the head of an old and wealthy pureblood
family will owe the Snape family a great debt."
"And you will be regarded as a fool and a traitor if you fail!" Sabra said. "And
the Diggorys are not so wealthy as they once were!"
Selima shrugged. "Not as wealthy as they once were, true, but Cyril still stands
to gain a respectably-sized inheritance. And I am sure he will be able to
increase his fortune with the business advice I intend to give him."
Sabra gave her daughter a hateful look. "The courts will never appoint a
werewolf head of a pureblood family!"
"What you do not seem to understand, Mother," Selima said with a small, cool
smile, "what most of the purebloods do not yet seem to understand, is that for
better or worse, the balance of power has been altered since the war ended. I
think Cyril will win his case in court, because he has powerful allies: the new
Minister of Magic and Albus Dumbledore both count him as a friend. The Daily
Prophet hailed him and his werewolves as heroes; some of the young people are
beginning to regard them as glamorous and exciting."
"You seem to be growing infatuated with werewolves yourself!" Sabra snapped.
"Not at all," Selima replied. "I do not approve of my son's choice of lovers; I
would much rather he settled down and married a nice pureblood girl. But since
he will not, I will make the best of the inevitable. Remus Lupin, too, has
powerful connections, the famous Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World,
among them. Potter and Dumbledore and Weasley are the new order, Mother, and
those who fail to see that will find themselves falling by the wayside."
"I think you are only trying to justify your outrageous actions," Sabra
retorted. "Severin would never have let you do this if he were still alive!"
"But he is not alive," Selima replied in an even voice. "And Severus, who is now
Lord Snape, is the only person who has the right to criticize my actions." She
silently added, {Though I would like to see him try!} Aloud, she said, "But by
all means, feel free to take the matter up with him if you wish."
"I see now it is no surprise that Severus turned out the way he has, with a
mother like you," Sabra said scornfully. "And look what has come of it--you
don't even have a grandson of your own blood!"
"Blood of my blood or not, Theodore is still a better heir than your grandson!"
Selima retorted in a waspish voice. "That spoiled brat can't even hold down a
job given him by his own kinsman, and Ali is hardly the world's sternest
taskmaster!"
"I will not stay here and be insulted any longer!" Sabra declared and left in a
huff, pausing only long enough to say, "And don't come crying to me when your
pureblood friends all turn their backs on you!"
"Not likely," Selima said to the empty room, then laughed, feeling almost giddy.
It was strangely satisfying to finally tell her mother off, after being a
dutiful daughter for so many years, although she supposed it was a bit petty of
her, especially at her age. Maybe Severus was a bad influence, after all. That
thought suddenly sobered her, as she wondered if Severus despised her as much as
she despised her own mother. Was the way Selima's own parents had arranged her
marriage to Severin, not asking for her permission or even her opinion, really
any different from what she had planned for Severus? Her conscience stirred
uneasily, a most unfamiliar feeling for a proper and practical Slytherin like
Selima. She tried to assuage her guilt by telling herself that it was not the
same thing; she had done her duty to her family, after all, as unpleasant as it
had seemed at the time, and Severus had not. And she would have permitted
Severus a little more leeway than her family had given her. If he had indicated
a preference for a certain girl, she would have taken his wishes into
consideration, so long as the girl was a pureblood of good family; she certainly
would not have married him off to a woman twice his age, even for the sake of an
alliance! In fact, after the whole scandal with the werewolf, Selima would have
agreed to nearly anyone human and female!
Selima sighed. But in the end, Severus had not married, remaining stubbornly
loyal to his werewolf lover. Perhaps her mother was right, and it was all her
fault; perhaps she had been too soft on him when he was a child, or not soft
enough. But what was done was done; it was too late to change things now, and
although Selima would never admit it to anyone but herself, she secretly
preferred the werewolf's company to that of her mother--or any of her other
Bashir relatives, for that matter, with the possible exception of Ali. That
spoke more of her dislike for her family, Selima told herself, than any fondness
for the werewolf, who was one of the most irritating people she had ever met.
Still, Lupin was her ally, and while Sabra was half-right about Selima using the
"new order" of things as an excuse to justify her support of Cyril, everything
she had said was true. Things had changed after the war, and would never be the
same again. The pureblood nobility had become set in their ways, and were in
danger of losing their power if they did not learn to adapt. And one thing
Selima was good at was adapting to the situation at hand, however much she hated
the need for it.
If her mother had come expressing her outrage, Selima knew that her own peers
would not be far behind. She sighed again, mentally bracing herself for more
catty gossip sessions over tea with Priscilla Parkinson and her ilk. Perhaps it
was time for the Snape family to show off some of those important connections
Selima had boasted of to Sabra. If the Minister of Magic had dinner with the
Snapes, that would still some of the wagging tongues. And it would be even
better if the Boy Who Lived showed up as well--after all, Harry Potter had
publicly acknowledged Severus's role as his protector in the Daily Prophet.
Perhaps she would make a party of it, and invite the Minister's and Potter's
families; it could not do any harm to secure the allegiance of Potter's
godparents, the heads of the Black and Blackmore clans, two of the oldest and
wealthiest pureblood families in the wizarding world. Yes, Selima decided, it
was time to go on the offensive. She marched off to the study to write two
letters: one to Severus, telling him of her plan, and a second to Lupin, to make
sure that Severus went along with it. Since Lupin claimed that he was her ally,
she might as well make him earn his keep.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
After a busy day of classes, Snape and Lupin found two letters waiting for them
when they arrived at their dungeon quarters. Snape groaned when he saw the Snape
seal on the envelopes.
"Does my mother think I have nothing better to do than dance attendance on
her?!" Snape shouted in frustration as he read Lady Selima's latest missive.
"The term is nearly over; I have lessons to prepare and grade, and the boys have
tests to study for and projects to complete! We don't have time to go to a
dinner party! Couldn't she at least wait until school lets out?"
Lupin patiently let his lover rant and rave until he ran out of steam. When
Snape finally fell silent, Lupin looked up from his own letter and said, "This
isn't one of her usual tea parties to check up on Theodore's progress, Severus.
She made a bold move when she chose to support Lukas's claim to the Diggory
title, and you were right when you said that her peers would regard her as a
traitor for it. Having the support of the Minister of Magic and Harry Potter
will go a long way towards helping her save face and keep the respect of her
peers."
"You're right," Snape said, calming down. Then he smiled slightly, raising an
eyebrow as he asked, "Which one of us is supposed to be a pureblood Lord?"
Lupin grinned at him. "I may not be one of the pureblood elite, but I've spent
enough time observing them to understand how they think. Particularly since my
lover is a pureblood Lord." He dropped the letter and wrapped his arms around
Snape's neck.
"Well, I suppose we can spare a couple of hours for dinner one evening," Snape
grudgingly conceded, wrapping his arms around Lupin's waist and pulling him
closer. "But it's your job to convince the Weasleys and Potter to go along with
it."
"I can be very persuasive, Severus," Lupin whispered, his lips just a fraction
of an inch away from Snape's.
"I know, Lupin," Snape said, and closed that gap, pressing his lips against
Lupin's. Then he pulled away and scowled. "But I don't wish you to be that
'persuasive' with anyone but me!"
"I don't think I'm Arthur's type, anyway," Lupin laughed, as they headed to the
bedroom together.