Aftermaths, Part 83

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 days leading up to Christmas passed by quickly and pleasantly for the most part. There were more snowball fights, and Vorcher would always have hot cider or cocoa or mulled wine waiting for them afterwards. Dylan went through the Floo to the Donner estate in Wales to drop off the gifts for his great-uncle, aunt, and cousin, and also to pick something up, although he wouldn't say what it was. But later that day, he sent his owl Blodwen with a gift-wrapped package to Hogwarts. Selima's "friends" dropped by for tea on a couple of occasions, and Snape greeted them politely as he had promised his mother he would, although he could see the gleam of malicious curiosity in their eyes, and knew that they would take delight in gossiping about him behind his back later. But although it annoyed him, he was used to being gossiped about, ever since his Death Eater days, and he took some comfort in knowing that they would feel the sharp edge of Selima's tongue if they dared to bad-mouth him to her face. He knew his mother well enough to know that however much she might disapprove of his lover and his lifestyle, she would never allow any insult to the Lord of the estate--and hence, the family honor--to pass unchallenged. Of course, that didn't mean that Snape wouldn't also face Selima's wrath later in private, for putting her in such a position. But as it turned out, Selima did not scold him after her tea sessions, so perhaps her pureblood associates had more sense than he had thought. Perhaps it helped that Lupin discreetly made himself scarce when company came, retreating to their room to work on the carving he was making for Theodore's Christmas present.

"No sense in antagonizing your mother, after all," Lupin said cheerfully, as thin, curling strips of wood fell away from his knife as he carved. "I know that they know I'm here, but as long as I stay out of sight, we can pretend that I'm not, and that your scandalous werewolf lover does not exist."

Snape stared at Lupin with a combination of respect and worry. "Yes, Slytherins are very good at participating in a mutual lie for the sake of appearances. You're beginning to think like us, and that scares me a little."

Lupin laughed. "Well, perhaps there has always been a bit of Slytherin in me." A bittersweet smile crossed his lips. "I have a lot of experience with lying, after all. I pretended for years to be a normal, if rather sickly, human. I lied to my friends, sneaking around behind their backs to see you in fifth year. And I lied to myself, pretending not to notice when they taunted and harassed you, pretending that there was nothing I could do to stop them. I overlooked the part of them that I hated, because I was scared to lose the part of them that I loved. I told myself that the one outweighed the other, but was that really true?"

Lupin looked troubled and guilty, and he had stopped carving, his hands resting still on his lap. Snape gently pulled the knife and piece of wood out of his grasp and set them aside, then clasped Lupin's hands in his own. "You may have done a lot of lying, but you are very bad at it, Remus," Snape said with a faint smile. "Everyone knows you are a werewolf now, and the Marauders figured it out before you were even fifteen. Black figured out that we were seeing each other back in fifth year, and in hindsight, I think Dumbledore and Branwen knew, too. And as bad as you are at lying to other people, you are even worse at lying to yourself, or you wouldn't have felt so guilty about what your friends did to me."

"But I--" Lupin started to say.

Snape laid a finger over his lips to still his protests. "I'm not saying that I forgive them. Well, maybe I forgive Sirius, but not Potter or Pettigrew. But if you overlooked the Marauders' faults, you also overlooked mine. You overlooked all the times I hurt you, even when I exposed your lycanthropy to the school and cost you your job. You overlook all my little--and not so little--faults: my bad temper and sarcasm, my love for the Dark Arts, and my sneaky Slytherin ways in general."

"Oh, Severus," Lupin said tenderly, "you're wrong about that. I never overlooked what you call your faults, your sneaky Slytherin ways. I have always seen them, and I love you for them. They are part of what makes you what you are. I love you, all of you, just as you love the wolf in me."

Snape stared at Lupin in shock; to think that all these years, he had been so jealous of the Marauders, because he had believed that Lupin loved them better than him! But if what Lupin had just said was true, it almost seemed like it was the other way around: he loved Snape completely, even the most selfish and bitter parts of him, but however dearly Lupin had loved the Marauders, he had not loved or accepted the arrogance and cruelty in his friends, even though it was mainly due to the callowness of youth and the prejudices their families had taught them. If he was going to be completely honest with himself (which was a rare occurrence), Snape had to admit that many of his own Slytherins, Draco in particular, had been no better than the Marauders, just a little more subtle. All these years, he had longed to be first and foremost in Lupin's heart, and it seemed that he had been all along. That realization completely floored him, and he just sat there staring at Lupin, speechless, his eyes filled with wonder.

"I don't think that I could love you the way I do if you were all sweetness and light, Severus," Lupin said gravely, although there was a gentle smile on his lips. "There is a little darkness in me that I think is drawn to the darkness in you."

"Even if you're a werewolf, you're not--" Snape started to say.

Lupin shook his head. "I don't mean the fact that I'm a Dark Creature," he interrupted. "I mean that you understand, as I do, what it feels like to be despised, to be an outcast, to feel so lonely that the despair eats away at your soul. As much as I loved James, I could never have fallen IN love with someone like him, who had lived a safe and happy and sheltered life, who had never really experienced pain and suffering. He was kind and compassionate to me, he felt sympathy for the way that I suffered, but he could never truly understand what it was like." Lupin sighed. "Although I guess he learned enough about suffering when Voldemort started killing off his family."

"Lupin, I...I...I..." Snape stammered.

Lupin smiled and reached up to cradle Snape's face between his hands. "So you see, my snarky Slytherin," he said affectionately, "you are the only one for me. You always have been."

"I love you, Remus," Snape said in a hoarse voice, too choked up to speak any louder than a whisper.

"And I love you, Severus," Lupin replied, and leaned forward and kissed Snape; a long, slow, and infinitely sweet kiss. "Do you want to...?" Lupin asked coyly, his voice trailing off as he let his eyes slide towards the bed.

Snape hesitated, then said regretfully, "We'd better not, just in case my mother decides to summon me into her presence while her guests are here. It would be very bad if I ran downstairs looking like I've just risen from bed."

"Well, I suppose I should finish Theo's carving first, anyway," Lupin sighed, then smiled at Snape. "A rain check, then?"

"So long as I can claim it tonight," Snape said with a grin.

"Agreed," Lupin said, sealing their bargain with a quick kiss on the lips.

"My mother was wrong when she said you would make a good merchant," Snape said slyly. "A true merchant would bargain for better terms."

Lupin smiled at him seductively. "Perhaps I intend to renegotiate our contract when you're in bed, and more amenable to my terms."

Snape laughed out loud. "I take it back!" he said. "You would rival any Bashir as a merchant, even Ali!"

Lupin laughed, then said in a more serious tone, "By the way, Severus...it means a lot to me that you've forgiven Sirius. Thank you."

"Yes, well," Snape said gruffly, "he's still a moron, but I suppose I have to get along with him for your and Branwen's sakes."

"You've even started calling him by his first name," Lupin said with a smile, and Snape stared back at him blankly. "Just now," Lupin reminded him, "you said, 'I forgive Sirius,' not 'I forgive Black'."

Snape felt his face turn red. "Oh, don't read so much into it, Lupin!" he growled. "It's a mere slip of the tongue, nothing more." Lupin just grinned, obviously not fooled by Snape's bluster, and the Potions Master sighed and relented. "Well, it's not like I consider him my best friend or anything," Snape grumbled, "but he did apologize to me about what he did back in school, which is more than Potter senior or Pettigrew ever did. But the real reason that I forgave him was because he stood by Draco and Narcissa after the final battle, and shielded them from the Aurors. That was what told me that he had really changed, and that his apology was more than mere words."

Lupin flung his arms around Snape and hugged him tightly. "I love you so much, Severus Snape!" he whispered fiercely.

"I love you, too, Remus," Snape replied. "But I will turn you into a wolfskin rug if you ever repeat what I just said to Black!"

It was an empty threat, but Lupin kissed him on the cheek and said, "It will be our little secret, Sev." Then he picked up his knife and resumed working on the half-finished carving. Snape was content to just sit there and watch him, delighting in the way that Lupin's long gold-and-silver hair fell across his face as he bent his head forward to gaze intently at the piece of wood in his hands, and delighting in the way that Lupin managed to turn a simple block of wood into what looked like a living creature with a few strokes of his knife. And most of all, he delighted in the way that Lupin would glance up every now and then to smile at him lovingly.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

The day Priscilla Parkinson came over for tea did not go quite so smoothly, but neither was it a disaster; in fact, Snape quite enjoyed himself. He greeted her with cool but polite formality, as befit the Lord of the Manor, and was about to excuse himself when Priscilla said in an icy voice, "It is disgraceful, what is going on at the school these days!"

Snape raised an eyebrow, carefully keeping his expression bland, and asked in a mildly curious voice, "And to what might you be referring, Mrs. Parkinson?"

"Didn't we already have this talk, dear?" Selima murmured, projecting just the slightest hint of patience being tested in her voice. It was all a sham, however; there was a faint gleam of amusement in her dark eyes, perceivable only by someone who knew her very well.

"I'm talking about Slytherins mingling with Mudbloods, of course!" Priscilla snapped. "Your own foster son, Severus, is setting a bad example, dating that Mudblood girl!"

Snape shrugged indifferently. "Mr. Rosier takes after his father, I suppose--turning a simple schoolboy romance into high drama. But it doesn't really matter whom he offends, being heir to two estates. He is already Lord outright of the Rosier estate, his title confirmed by the Ministry of Magic, and Lord Donner is hardly likely to disown him for taking up with a Muggle-born girl. Mathias has a soft heart, and he's an idealist like Dumbledore."

"And don't you care what the boy does, Severus?" Priscilla fumed. "He is your ward, after all."

Snape shrugged again. "I find the wench to be extremely annoying, but she has her uses. She is a talented potion-brewer, and she has close ties to Harry Potter and the Weasleys. It does no harm to have allies in the Savior of the Wizarding World and the Minister of Magic."

Priscilla fumed even more, her fair skin turning red with anger. Behind her back, the corners of Selima's mouth curved up just a fraction of an inch, in what was almost a smile. "Well, maybe you don't care what Dylan Rosier does, Severus, but I care very much that my granddaughter is going to the Yule Ball with that Mudblood Hufflepuff boy!"

"Well," Snape said indulgently, "it is to be expected that Dylan will run a little wild; his father died before he was born, and Ariane spoiled the boy--it is not surprising, after all, for a young widowed mother to lavish devotion upon her only son. But I am indeed surprised by Pansy's behavior--a well brought up pureblood girl, running around with a Mudblood boy." He clucked his tongue in disapproval, and his mother's smile grew a little wider. "At least, I had assumed that she was too well brought up to do such a thing. A child's behavior reflects upon their parents' upbringing, do you not agree, Mother?"

"Oh, indeed, Severus," Selima said as Priscilla swiveled around to glare at her. She smiled with false sweetness at the other woman and said, "At least, that is what Priscilla always says."

Priscilla spluttered with rage, unable to get a coherent word out, and Snape decided that it would be a good time to make his escape. He bowed slightly and said, "I pray you excuse me, ladies. I have some matters of the estate to attend to, as well as lesson plans to prepare for the coming term."

"Of course, Severus," Selima said pleasantly.

"Then please enjoy your tea, Mother. And happy holidays to you, Mrs. Parkinson." Snape bowed again and swept out of the room while Priscilla was still spluttering. As soon as he was out of sight, he allowed a wide grin to spread across his face as he hurried up the stairs to his room and to Lupin, humming a Christmas carol under his breath.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

On Christmas Eve, Selima set out candlesticks on the dining room table, and had Vorcher lay out the good china and crystal, and everyone dressed up in their good robes. Lupin wore his favorite robe of plush blue wool embroidered with gold and silver thread along the edges, a gift from Snape. Selima wore the same green velvet robe that she had worn to the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch match, and Lupin gallantly told her that she looked beautiful. Snape nearly fainted when Selima smiled and replied, "Thank you, Professor. You're looking quite distinguished yourself tonight."

"Severus picked out this robe for me," Lupin said cheerfully.

"I am glad to see that my son is not completely lacking in taste," Selima said with a straight face, and Snape was not sure whether he had just been complimented or insulted, but decided that it was probably better to leave well enough alone.

They had a splendid feast by candlelight; the main course was roast beef, browned on the outside and tender, pink, and succulent on the inside. Lupin and Snape exchanged a smile, their eyes filled with laughter at a private joke, recalling a night they had spent at Grimmauld Place the year before, when Lupin in his wolf form had begged for roast beef from the dinner table, and even gnawed contentedly on the bone. "It's a good thing that the full moon has already passed," Snape whispered. "My mother would not appreciate having a wolf at the dinner table." Lupin laughed, and Selima gave them a suspicious look.

Dessert was a plum pudding; Vorcher brought it to the table already doused in brandy and set aflame. Lupin smiled and clapped his hands together in delight like a child; the boys looked as though they would have done the same if not for their Slytherin dignity. "Oh, how wonderful!" he exclaimed. "A Christmas pudding!"

"Of course, Master Lupin," Vorcher said, but he looked pleased by Lupin's reaction. "It is Christmas, after all, and a proper feast must be served, since Master Severus has come home this year." The flames were extinguished, and Vorcher sliced the pudding and served it along with a cream sauce.

"This is wonderful, Vorcher!" Lupin said, after chewing and swallowing his first bite. "You've truly outdone yourself with this feast!"

The house-elf beamed with pride, and bowed and said, "Thank you, Master Lupin." Snape had to lift a hand to his mouth to hide his smile. How quickly Vorcher had gone from regarding Lupin with disapproval to falling under his spell as nearly everyone else did! He cast a sidelong glance at his mother to see her reaction, and somehow he was not entirely surprised to see a look of ironic amusement on her face.

"Ouch!" Theodore cried as he bit into his pudding.

"Are you okay, Theo?" Dylan asked.

Theodore pulled a silver coin out of his mouth, and replied, "Yes, I think so. I didn't quite break my tooth on this."

"Master Theodore found the lucky coin!" Vorcher said excitedly.

Selima smiled at her grandson. "It means you will have good fortune in the coming year."

"I think my fortune has been pretty good already," Theodore said with a smile. "I have a new family, and for that I am very grateful." From the way his gaze swept around the table, it was clear that he meant Dylan and Lupin as well as Snape and Selima. In a lighter tone he added, "But I will keep this as a good-luck charm," and slipped the coin into his pocket.

"Maybe it means your luck will get even better!" Dylan said with a grin.

"It has been a...difficult year for all of us," Selima said slowly, a faraway look in her eyes, and Snape wondered if she was thinking of his father. The boys suddenly looked grave, and he knew that they must be thinking of their parents who had been slain in the final battle.

"A year filled with great sorrow, and great joy," Lupin said softly.

Selima nodded in agreement. "A year filled with endings...but also new beginnings." She raised her glass of wine. "So let us drink then, to the new Lord and heir, and to good fortune in the coming year." The others raised their glasses and clinked them together, then solemnly drank to the toast.

After dessert, they refilled their wineglasses and retreated to the drawing room to sit, and talk, and admire the tree. Without really discussing it, it had become a nightly ritual during their brief stay at Snape Manor, mainly due to Lupin, who seemed to love the tree, especially with the candles lit and the crystal star blazing with reflected light. Lupin took such pleasure in the smallest things, Snape mused as he gazed at Lupin, watching the delight in the werewolf's face as he admired the tree, and noting with appreciation the way the reflected candlelight played against Lupin's face and hair, giving him an almost angelic glow. They sat very close to each other on the couch, but in deference to Lady Selima's sense of propriety, were not quite touching. In spite of Snape's many vociferous complaints about the way Lupin "mauled" and embarrassed him in public, he secretly missed the way that Lupin always snuggled up to him. He would like nothing better than to put his arm around Lupin right now, but it would not do to provoke his mother, when she had been so agreeable of late, and Snape consoled himself with the thought that he could hold Lupin in his arms soon enough in the privacy of his room after everyone retired for the night.

They talked quietly, of nothing in particular. Selima passed on some trivial gossip she had heard from the guests who had come to tea, and Theodore and Dylan talked about some of the things they had read in the Snape histories; rather than finding them boring, as Theodore had originally feared they would be, the boys seemed to find them fascinating, which pleased Selima. Snape supposed it helped that nearly every one of his ancestors had been practitioners of the Dark Arts, which all Slytherins were drawn to.

Lupin saw the boys casting eager, curious glances towards the presents beneath the tree, and he smiled and suggested, "Perhaps we should call it a night? The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner Christmas will arrive." Lupin chuckled. "At least, that is what my parents always told me--though I remember feeling so wide-awake with excitement and anticipation that I felt I would never fall asleep!"

"Technically, it will be Christmas in about two hours," Snape pointed out. "We could just stay up and open the presents at midnight."

"No, no, no!" Lupin protested vehemently. "Then the real Christmas morning is such a letdown, with no presents left to open. No, we must do it properly, and get a good night's sleep and open the presents in the morning."

Snape glanced at his mother, who looked amused. "Well, Professor Lupin seems to feel rather strongly about this issue," Selima said, "so I suppose we must humor him, Severus."

Snape fixed a stern look on his face and said to the boys, "To bed, then."

The boys grinned at him, but said meekly, "Yes, Father," and "Yes, Professor." Everyone said goodnight and went upstairs to bed.

As soon as they were alone in their room, Snape wrapped his arms around Lupin and pulled him close. "Merry Christmas, Remus," he whispered into Lupin's ear.

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Severus," Lupin said, resting his head comfortably on Snape's shoulder. "But technically, it's not Christmas yet."

"Yes," Snape agreed, "and I seem to recall you saying something about how you have trouble falling asleep on Christmas Eve. Do you feel sleepy, Lupin?"

"Not at all, Severus."

"How shall we pass the time, then?"

Lupin smiled and raised his head up off Snape's shoulder. "Oh, I'm sure we'll think of something," he murmured as he leaned in for a kiss.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________

At Grimmauld Place, Harry was enjoying his Christmas vacation. He and Sirius picked out a Christmas tree together, the tallest, bushiest, greenest tree on the lot, and proudly brought it home to Professor Blackmore. The Professor seemed amused, particularly by Sirius, who carried himself with the air of a conquering hero who has just returned home after slaying a dragon, but she dutifully praised the tree, her eyes sparkling with laughter, and helped them decorate it. Bane involved himself in the festivities, but was more hindrance than help, getting himself tangled in the tinsel, and stealing one of the shiny Christmas ornaments for the hoard of treasures he kept stashed in the attic. Hob had quietly pointed out Bane's "nest" to Harry one day; it was tucked up high in the rafters of the attic, a collection of the kinds of shiny objects that would attract a raven's eye: several foil candy wrappers, a silver Sickle, a bronze Knut, a bottlecap, a piece of broken glass, a silver spoon that Bane must have filched from the kitchen, a shiny brass button, and a cheap hairclip that Ginny had lost during the summer. No doubt Bane was now adding the ornament to his collection, but Sirius just laughed when he saw the bird fly off with it.

"That will be my Christmas present to you, Bane," he said.

Harry accompanied Sirius to work one day; he told Sirius that he wanted to see what his job was like, which was true enough, but mostly he just wanted to spend some time with his godfather, and Sirius seemed very pleased by his request. He helped Sirius file some paperwork at his office; in theory, two Ministry clerks were supposed to be available to help him part-time, but they had other duties to tend to in other departments as well, and regarded Werewolf Support as a dead-end position with no opportunity for advancement. Arthur Weasley was trying to change that type of attitude, but the Ministry, as Blackmore had once pointed out to Harry, was set in its ways and resistant to change. So in practice, the clerks tended to shirk their duties in Werewolf Support, which left Sirius with a mountain of paperwork on his desk.

"Thanks, Harry," Sirius said gratefully. "It will be different this summer, once your friends start working for me. Dennis Creevey, Brad Doherty, and Martin Parry want to work for me part-time during the summer, and Arthur's given me permission to hire two permanent full-time assistants. I'll probably hire Crabbe and Goyle if that Lovegood girl doesn't talk them into starting a Thestral carriage business with her."

Harry shook his head a little; he wasn't quite sure how Crabbe and Goyle, who had threatened him with bodily harm on a steady basis for six years, had wound up being considered his "friends". Still, even if they didn't exactly hang out together, Crabbe and Goyle had turned out to be pretty decent once they stopped being Malfoy's lackeys. They worshipped Lupin, and they seemed to have a soft spot for Harry's new housemate, Allegra Zabini, who had somehow managed to coax Goyle into taking her to the Yule Ball. It probably wasn't that much of a sacrifice on Goyle's part, since he had apparently been unable to obtain a real date, but most older students would consider it beneath their dignity to take a first-year to the Ball, and Allegra was the envy of all the first-year girls in the school.

"Crabbe seems to have a thing going on with Luna," Harry told his godfather. They were an odd couple, but seemed somehow suited to each other.

Sirius sighed. "Well, maybe I can still convince Goyle to work for me. And Doherty seems like a sharp kid, and he's really eager to work in Werewolf Support. It would probably be worth waiting another year to hire him. And I think that we need more paid employees to work at the clinics; right now they're staffed mainly with volunteers. Of course that means I'll need a bigger budget, unless I can come up the funds on my own..." Sirius sighed again. "Well, perhaps we can hire a few employees with the money from Cassidy's toy wolves; I hear they've been selling very well."

Once the paperwork was done, Sirius eagerly left his office and went out into the field. He stopped by to visit werewolves who had recently moved into new homes or started new jobs to see how they were doing, and he also visited potential employers, and attempted to coax or badger them into hiring werewolves. He also stopped by other businesses that donated food, clothing, or other necessities to the Werewolf Support Program, and dropped the items off at the charity clinic in Diagon Alley.

"Wow, Sirius," Harry said, impressed, "you work really hard."

Sirius smiled proudly. "It's hard work, but it's satisfying, seeing how far we've come." Then he sighed. "And it's also frustrating, seeing how far we still have to go. Some of the werewolves are leery of accepting help from outsiders, and many of the human wizards are still holding on to their prejudices, equal rights bill or not. There are a few children in Lukas Bleddri's pack, and I want to see that they're given the opportunity to enter Hogwarts when they come of age--without having to hide their true identities and be locked up during the full moon, the way Remus had to."

"There are child werewolves?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Well, Moony developed lycanthropy when he was a child," Sirius reminded him. "And apparently so did Bleddri--or maybe I should call him 'Diggory'. Anyway, there are some children in the werewolf pack--a few who are normal human children of werewolf parents, and a couple who are actual werewolves." Sirius grimaced. "And there are a few werewolves who are only a year or two older than you, Harry. None of them ever had the chance to go to Hogwarts, or any other school. They were cast out by their families and left to fend for themselves on the street until Bleddri took them in."

Harry thought of how difficult Lupin's life had been, and realized that as bad as it was, it could have been much worse; it was a sobering thought.

Sirius patted Harry on the shoulder. "But hopefully, I can make sure that such a thing never happens to any child again."

"It's important work you're doing," Harry said.

Sirius smiled. "Yes, Branwen was right to urge me to take the job; I'm glad I did. It's frustrating at times, and I hate the paperwork, but I love what I'm doing. Say, it's getting late--why don't we stop and have lunch? My treat, to pay you back for helping with the paperwork."

Sirius took him to the Sakura, which was run by the pretty Japanese lady who had come to the Career Fair, then to Fortescue's for dessert. "As long as we're in Diagon Alley, do you need to do any last-minute Christmas shopping?" Sirius asked.

"I do need to get something for Professor Blackmore," Harry replied, "but I'm not sure what."

"Well, let's take a look around," Sirius said. "She's a bookworm like Snape and Remy, and she loves anything to do with that blasted raven of hers. I'd suggest getting her Poe's 'The Raven,' but Snape already bought it for her a couple years ago."

Harry grinned. "I already got Bane a box of chocolates for Christmas."

"You're a quick learner, Harry," Sirius laughed. "Although I'm afraid we can't win. Bane is grumpy unless we feed him, but Branwen scolds us for making him fat if we give him candy!"

Harry spotted the perfect gift in a jewelry store--a small brooch shaped like a raven, made of polished jet set in gold. As the clerk was wrapping up his purchase, Sirius asked, "Anything else, Harry? Did you get Miss Weasley something for Christmas yet?"

Harry flushed a little. "Um, yeah, I got her a box of candy from Honeydukes."

Sirius shook his head disapprovingly. "Oh no, that just won't do! Not for a girl who you regard as more than a friend, anyway."

"Sirius, keep your voice down!" Harry hissed. They were a few other customers in the shop, who were regarding them curiously. Harry was careful to keep his hair combed down over his scar, but his face had been plastered on the front page of the Daily Prophet so many times that most people found it easy to recognize him. "Anyway," Harry asked in a hushed tone, "don't girls like stuff like candy and flowers?"

"Yes," Sirius replied, lowering his voice, "but you want to give her something more personal, something that says you spent a lot of time picking out something special with her in mind."

"Well, what should I get?" Harry asked helplessly.

"Look around," Sirius suggested. "We're standing in a jewelry store, after all. Perhaps you can find her something she can wear to the Ball. Do you know what color dress she's wearing?"

"Uh, no," Harry replied anxiously. "Was I supposed to ask?"

Sirius sighed. "Something simple, then, that will go well with most anything. With her coloring, something gold set with either red or green stones would look nice."

"Red and gold are Gryffindor colors," Harry said with a grin. He looked at a glass display case filled ruby rings and bracelets and necklaces; they were all very pretty and very expensive. Harry could afford it, of course, but they weren't the sort of thing that Ginny usually wore, and he thought that she might feel uncomfortable accepting such an expensive gift from him. The Weasleys were proud, and had always been a little uneasy about accepting gifts from him, even snacks on the train ride to school, so he had always been careful not to be too extravagant with his birthday and Christmas presents to them, although he had so much money that he had always felt it was a shame that he couldn't share it with his friends. The way that they had welcomed him into their home and made him feel like part of the family was worth far more than gold to him. Well, they weren't poor anymore now that Mr. Weasley was Minister of Magic, but he still felt a little funny about buying expensive jewelry for Ginny.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know, Sirius. These are just too...well...I mean, we're not even going out together yet...I mean, we're going to the Ball, but we're not 'going out,' if you know what I mean..."

He was both embarrassed and relieved when the sales clerk, a pretty blonde woman about the same age as Sirius, glided forward and interrupted his babbling. "I understand, Mr. Potter," the clerk said smoothly. "You wish to buy a gift for a female friend, but you do not wish to be...ah...presumptuous?"

Harry felt his face turn red. "Uh, yeah, I guess," he mumbled, then shot a glare at his godfather, who was grinning and looking highly amused.

"Perhaps not rubies, then, but garnets?" the clerk suggested, and led him to another display. "Perhaps this?" She held up a gold band set with a small garnet. Harry hesitated, and the clerk said, "Well, perhaps not. A ring signifies certain intentions, after all." Harry felt his blush grow deeper. "Well, perhaps a bracelet, then, or perhaps these...?" She indicated a pair of simple gold hairclips, each decorated with a small flower whose petals were made of tiny red garnets.

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed. "That's perfect!" They were pretty, but it wouldn't seem like he was proposing marriage or something if he gave them to her. Sirius seemed a little puzzled by the strength of his response, and Harry explained with a grin, "Bane stole one of her hairclips during the summer; I found it in his nest in the attic. So this will sort of make up for it."

Sirius chuckled. "I'll have to tell Branwen what a thief her bird is! I'm sure Ginny will like your present, Harry."

So he had the hairclips gift-wrapped, and later had Hedwig take the package to The Burrow.

When they returned home, they found Blackmore decorating the Black mansion with the help of Hob and two ice elementals. Hob was hanging up holly wreaths and boughs around the house, and the elementals were decorating the windows with frosty snowflake patterns; Harry remembered that Professor Blackmore had done something similar at Hogwarts last Christmas. When they were done, the elementals landed on Blackmore's shoulders to be petted and praised, and the Professor didn't seem to mind that they were leaving wet footprints on her robe and frost in her hair. Bane watched sulkily, and Harry reached into his pocket and offered the bird a piece of chocolate. The raven forgot his sulk and eagerly flew over and landed on Harry's shoulder; Harry staggered a little under the bird's weight. Bane was much heavier than Hedwig, and Harry wondered how Professor Blackmore managed to carry him around all day without her shoulder aching.

Harry thought nothing more of the elementals--Professor Blackmore's specialty was Summoning, after all--until they went to sit in the drawing room and sip hot cocoa after dinner. The room was dark and chilly, and Sirius took out his wand to light the fireplace and the candles on the tree (Professor Blackmore had brought over some old-fashioned candleholders from Blackmore Manor that she said were family heirlooms). But Blackmore placed a hand on his arm to stop him, then called out a brief incantation--Harry could make out the Latin words for "fire" and "invite"--and suddenly the fireplace burst into flame, and a red-and-gold bird soared out of it. At first, Harry thought it was a phoenix, but it looked nothing like Fawkes; its body was made up of living flames, not feathers. The bird swooped around the tree, lighting the candles with a flourish, then dove down towards Blackmore's shoulder. Bane let out a squawk of alarm, and launched himself up into the air and flew over to land on Harry's shoulder, where he cawed angrily at the fire elemental, who had just usurped his place. The flame-bird landed on Blackmore's shoulder, and made happy, crooning noises as she stroked it.

"How can she do that without getting burned?" Harry asked in amazement. "And how come her robes aren't catching fire?"

Sirius laughed. "Branwen has many amazing powers. But in this case, the answer is quite simple: she wears a pendant enspelled with a powerful protective charm against fire. A useful device that many Summoners wear--well, at least they used to. No one practices Summoning much these days; it fell out of fashion during the war--it's partly Branwen's fault, ironically enough. Summoning has always been regarded with fear and suspicion because most people think of it as Dark Magic, and when Branwen disappeared during the first war, people assumed she'd been carried off by demons that she summoned and lost control of."

"Oh," Harry said. He should have realized that she was using some kind of protective magic; they had made Fire Shield Potions in Snape's class, after all. Then he wondered about something else. "She summoned that elemental without doing any of things we do in class--no protective circle or material components, no binding spell or gift, just an incantation, and it didn't even sound like the ones we learned in class."

"It wasn't a real incantation," Sirius told him. "All she did was call the elemental by name, and ask it to come if it willed. She is a Master-class Summoner, the greatest anyone has seen in hundreds of years." He smiled at his wife, his eyes filled with both tenderness and awe as the fire elemental flew up into the air again, swooping playfully in circles around Blackmore, who was laughing. Bathed in the flickering orange light cast by the candles, the fireplace, and the elemental, she looked strangely beautiful and otherworldly. "She is a remarkable woman," Sirius said softly. "The elementals do not come to her call because she commands them; they come because they love her. That's why it's safe for her to summon them without a protective circle or binding spell."

"Oh," Harry repeated, feeling dumbfounded. It often seemed to him that he was surrounded by people who were extraordinary even by wizarding standards: Sirius was an Animagus; Lupin was a werewolf; Master Bleddri was not only a werewolf, but the long-lost heir to the Diggory family; Snape, of course, was a former Death Eater and double-agent; Dumbledore was...well...Dumbledore; and now it seemed that his step-godmother was not only a Summoner, but the elementals would come to her hand as tamely as Hedwig came to his.

The elemental finally dove back into the fireplace and disappeared, and Bane resumed his rightful place on his mistress's shoulder, barking out one last indignant caw in the direction of the fireplace. Blackmore smiled and said cheerfully to Harry and Sirius, "Come now, your cocoa is getting cold," as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

The three of them sat together on the couch, and Blackmore picked up a book that had been left on the coffee table. As she opened it, Bane hunkered down on her shoulder, a look of eager expectation on his face, like a child settling down and waiting to be read a favorite bedtime story. She reached up to stroke the feathers on his chest affectionately, then began reading in her rich, melodious voice, "Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary..."

Harry grinned and sipped his hot chocolate. It was an odd bedtime story, but then again, he had a rather odd family. Still, he loved them, he suddenly realized, even demonic Professor Blackmore and cantankerous Bane, and wouldn't trade them for anything. Sirius leaned back against the couch, looking very contented, and slipped a companionable arm around Harry's shoulders, and the two of them drank their cocoa and listened to Blackmore read. Bane croaked happily when she reached his favorite line.

"Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore'..."

 

Part 84