Aftermaths, Part 92
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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With the arguing more or less over, everyone finally turned their attention to
the food lying neglected on their plates. Lupin, attempting to make a little
pleasant small talk, asked Prospero, "Are you named after the character from
'The Tempest,' by any chance?"
Prospero beamed proudly. "Why, indeed I am, Professor Lupin. In fact, it was an
ancestor of mine who inspired the Bard's tale."
"Really?" Lupin asked.
"Oh no," Marius muttered under his breath, "here we go again."
"Prospero, we've all heard that story about a million times," Selima complained.
"I haven't!" Lupin objected.
"I like that story, even if I have heard it millions--well, at least hundreds of
times," Allegra said cheerfully. Blaise just smiled.
"An ancestor of mine, the first Prospero Zabini, was the inspiration for
Shakespeare's play," Prospero explained. "The Bard took some poetic license, of
course, to make things more dramatic. Prospero wasn't really the Duke of Milan,
but an advisor to a powerful nobleman; it is safer for wizards to operate behind
the scenes rather than rule openly. Even so, my ancestor was accused of
witchcraft and forced to flee from his home with his young daughter, Miranda.
They managed to escape, but their ship was wrecked in a storm, and they found
themselves stranded on an isolated island far from civilization. Fortunately,
his magic enabled him to survive and build a home for himself and his daughter."
Prospero smiled at Lupin. "Can you guess what his specialty was?"
A light gleamed in Lupin's eyes, and he said, "He was a Summoner, wasn't he?
Ariel is described as an 'airy spirit'--probably an air elemental. And Caliban--the
play says he was the offspring of a witch and a devil, but perhaps he was an
earth elemental?" Lupin grinned. "I've always been a big Shakespeare fan, and
'The Tempest' is one of my favorite plays."
Prospero nodded approvingly. "Indeed, my ancestor Prospero was the greatest
Summoner of his age--no one since has come close to rivaling him in power,
except for Branwen Blackmore--one of your colleagues now, I believe. I was very
pleased to see Hogwarts add Incantations and Summonings back to the curriculum.
But to answer your question, yes, Prospero used earth elementals for tasks
requiring brute strength, such as building his house, and he used the air
elementals to blow astray a ship carrying the King, causing it run aground on
his island."
"And did Miranda really fall in love with Ferdinand, the King's son?" Lupin
wanted to know.
Prospero smiled. "The real Ferdinand was not really a Prince, just one of the
King's courtiers, another mage in disguise. Prospero the first would never have
let his daughter marry a Muggle, not even one who was a prince; he firmly
adhered to Salazar Slytherin's principles about keeping the wizarding bloodlines
pure. But he did find Muggles entertaining, and even befriended some of them,
including our illustrious Bard. He thought old Will had a small streak of magic
in him, that perhaps he had stumbled briefly into the Faery world as a child,
and retained a certain sense of magic and wonder that worked its way into his
stories. In any case, Will decided it would be much more romantic for Miranda to
fall in love with a Prince rather than a mere courtier, so he altered the tale a
bit. But Miranda and Ferdinand did fall in love and later marry, and Prospero
rescued the King and returned home, honor and position restored. And by the way,
there was no jealous brother; Antonio was merely a conniving courtier who wanted
a rival removed."
"What a fascinating story," Lupin said. "I'd love to hear more about your
ancestor some time."
Prospero smiled, looking pleased. "I would be delighted to regale you with tales
of Lord Prospero, Professor Lupin. My family and friends are all sick unto death
of hearing them."
"That's not true, Grandpa," Allegra said loyally.
"Are you a Summoner, sir?" Theodore asked politely.
"I can summon an elemental or two, but I'm not half the Summoner my ancestor
was," Prospero replied modestly. "I did consider taking it up as a profession
after I lost my Ministry job, but it was already falling out of fashion even
back then. When you mention 'summoning,' people tend to think of demons and Dark
Magic instead of friendly elemental spirits."
"So you ended up running the shop in Diagon Alley?" Lupin asked.
"I tried my hand at this and that," Prospero said vaguely, "but nothing ever
quite worked out. Then I ended up inheriting a little antique shop when my
great-aunt passed away. It started off being much more upscale, but gradually
declined into a junk--" He quickly corrected himself as Allegra started to
protest." "--I mean, secondhand store, especially after I incurred the Malfoys'
wrath for not supporting the Dark Lord. Actually, it was mainly Lucius who was
responsible for driving us into near-poverty. It's true that Lucien got me fired
from my first job, but he didn't persecute me after that. I think to him, I was
too insignificant to be worthy of further attention. But Lucius...as cold and
cruel and proud as Lucien Malfoy was, his son was a hundred times worse. That
boy never forgot nor forgave a slight, no matter how minor, and he was
passionately devoted to the Dark Lord. He even forced Severin, his father's best
friend, out of his Ministry post--not for working against the Death Eaters, but
simply for remaining neutral and failing to actively support them." Selima
nodded, a bitter look on her face. "It was even whispered--though no one dared
say it aloud--that Lucius had his own parents killed so that he might come into
his inheritance a little early."
"We'll never know the truth now, since Lucius is dead," Snape said, "but you are
probably right."
All the talk about Death Eaters made Marius and Olivia look uncomfortable, so
Lupin changed the subject. "So, you are retired now, having turned the shop over
to your son?"
"I have retired from running the shop," Prospero said, "but I am not entirely
idle."
"Father, please!" Marius begged, looking horrified.
Prospero ignored his son, and told Lupin, "These past several years I have been
plying the trade of a writer."
"Really?" Lupin asked, looking interested. "What do you write?"
"Father!" Marius cried desperately, which only served to make Lupin and the
Snapes more curious.
"Oh, I write novels," Prospero answered casually. "Adventure and romance,
mainly."
Lupin frowned. "I'm an avid reader, and I don't recall seeing any books written
by a Zabini."
"That's because I use a pen name, so as not to scandalize my family," Prospero
said, grinning mischievously at his son, who groaned and buried his head in his
hands. "I write under the name Ariel Zoltaire."
"WHAT?!" exclaimed Lupin, Theodore, and Dylan; Snape just raised his eyebrows a
little. "You're my favorite author!" Lupin said excitedly. "Theo and Dylan gave
me your 'Demon' trilogy for Christmas, as a matter of fact! I wonder--I don't
mean to impose, but if I brought by the books one day, perhaps you could
autograph them for me if it's not too much trouble?"
"I'd be delighted to, Professor," Prospero said, beaming. "It's nice to meet a
fan. I don't really get to meet many, since I can't make any public appearances
without giving away my identity. Although it is amusing to sometimes overhear
people saying that they like my books, not knowing that the author is standing
right next to them."
"Oh, please call me 'Remus,'" Lupin said.
"Then you must call me 'Prospero'."
"Grandpa's a famous writer?" Allegra asked, looking confused.
"Blaise, did you know?" Dylan asked his friend. "Why didn't you tell us?"
Blaise smiled apologetically. "My parents made me promise not to."
"You should use your real name, Grandpa!" Allegra said enthusiastically. "I'd
love to tell my housemates that you're famous! Can I read your books, Grandpa?"
"They're not really appropriate for someone your age," Olivia told her sternly;
Allegra looked crestfallen.
"Then I promise to write a story just for you, Allegra," Prospero said
affectionately, patting her on the head.
"Branching off into children's books," Lupin mused. "Not a bad idea."
"I was thinking of making a werewolf the hero of my next story," Prospero said
with a grin. "The idea of noble werewolf heroes has really caught the public's
attention, with that series of articles Rita Skeeter did in the Daily Prophet.
Perhaps you wouldn't mind helping me with my research, Remus--you know, make
sure the details of werewolf biology in the story are accurate, give me some
insight into how a werewolf thinks..."
"Why, I'd be honored, Mr. Za--I mean, Prospero!" Lupin said delightedly.
Snape looked worried, picturing a thinly-veiled version of Lupin as the
protagonist of Prospero's next novel. Prospero winked at him and said
reassuringly, "Oh, don't worry, Professor. I just want Remus to help me fill in
some of the background details--I promise my character will be purely
fictional."
"It had better be," Snape growled.
"And I'm sure my publisher would object if I made the hero's lover a Potions
Master," Prospero added. "Although perhaps a Potions Mistress..." Snape glared
at him, and Prospero laughed, "Just kidding, Professor Snape!"
"Just how attached are you to your grandfather, Zabini?" Snape asked Blaise
coolly.
"Very, sir," Blaise replied meekly. "Please don't kill him."
"I make no promises," Snape said, glaring at Prospero again. "But I'll try to
restrain myself so long as I don't see any resemblance to Lupin or myself in any
of your grandfather's books."
"You should write a story about your ancestor," Lupin said, ignoring Snape.
"About the first Prospero and the true story behind 'The Tempest'."
"I'll consider it," Prospero said with a smile. "Although it would be difficult
to do so long as I remain anonymous."
"All the girls in Slytherin read your books," Dylan told him, "and most of the
boys, too, although some of them pretend that they don't." Then he frowned,
looking puzzled. "But if you're such a successful author, then why...?" His
voice trailed off, but Prospero understood what he left unsaid.
"Then why are we so poor?" Prospero finished. Dylan flushed, but Prospero looked
unoffended. "Well, first of all, I only get about ten percent of the cover price
of each book; the rest goes to the bookstores and the publisher. Also, I only
sold a modest number of books up until recently; enough to support myself with,
so that the income from the shop could go solely to Marius and his family, but
not enough to get rich on. In the past year or so, though, my books have been
selling extremely well--particularly the 'Demon' trilogy. I think I'll be able
to negotiate a higher royalty rate with my publisher for my next book."
"That's why you could afford to give me a music box for Christmas!" Allegra
exclaimed. "Mummy and Daddy got me the toy wolf cub they promised me, and I
thought it was strange that I got two expensive presents for Christmas!"
Prospero smiled at his granddaughter and tousled her hair. "I've done well
enough that I offered to help Marius with your and Blaise's school expenses, but
your father is too proud to take money that comes from such a dubious
profession. But at least I can buy my favorite grandchildren nice presents for
Christmas."
Allegra giggled. "We're your only grandchildren, Grandpa!"
Marius looked both embarrassed and annoyed by his father's gentle scolding.
"Your father writes tales that stir the imagination and touch the heart," Lupin
told him. "That's certainly nothing to be ashamed of."
"Writing serious, academic titles is considered respectable by the Slytherin
elite," Snape explained to his lover. "Writing romance and adventure novels for
the masses is not."
"Personally, I think that being respectable is highly overrated," Lupin said.
"Agreed," Prospero laughed, raising his wineglass in salute.
Lupin and the head of the Zabini family had a fine time at dinner, laughing and
discussing Prospero's novels; Marius and Olivia looked resigned, if not happy.
Prospero drew the boys into the conversation, getting them to admit to reading
his books, and asking them which were their favorites. Allegra listened raptly,
and Snape suspected she was going to find a way to read her grandfather's books
with or without her mother's permission. Still, he and his own housemates had
often read books forbidden to them when they were children, and Snape didn't
think that reading a slightly racy novel was going to do the girl much
harm--certainly much less harm than reading books on forbidden Dark Spells
would. Prospero Zabini was surprisingly charming and charismatic--much more so
than Marius and Blaise. Snape suspected that Allegra had inherited her outgoing
nature from him, but he still had no idea where her naivete had come
from--perhaps from her late grandmother, if the woman had been foolish enough to
be besotted with Lucien Malfoy.
Eventually, dinner came to a close, and the Zabinis rose to leave and thanked
Lady Selima politely for dinner.
"You're welcome," she replied. "I am glad that we were able to reach an
understanding." She hesitated for a moment, then said, "Thank you for the
flowers you sent to Severin's funeral, Prospero."
Prospero bowed slightly, looking very solemn, all the mischief and laughter gone
from his face. "I am very sorry for your loss, Selima," he said quietly.
"Are you?" she asked coolly.
Prospero looked up and met her eyes without flinching. "Yes, I am. I had no love
for Lord Snape, but I am sorry for your sake, Selima. I am sorry for your
grief."
"Am I supposed to give a pretty speech about how Severin and I found friendship
and comfort together?" Selima asked sarcastically.
"No," Prospero replied, "but he was your husband and the father of your son. You
must have felt some sense of loss. And for that, I am sincerely sorry."
Selima had no answer for that. After a moment of awkward silence, Prospero
cleared his throat and asked, "May I call upon you again in the future?"
"I am not sure that would be appropriate," Selima said stiffly
"Not as a suitor," Prospero added quickly. "At least--not yet, as you are newly
widowed and that would be unseemly. But as an old friend, to talk about our
grandsons' education and futures." Prospero smiled at Lupin. "And Remus did
promise to help me with my next book."
"If you wish to come by the Manor to see Professor Lupin, I will not stop you,"
Selima said with an air of indifference.
Prospero grinned widely and lifted her hand to his lips. "Then I will call upon
the Professor sometime soon," he said. "I bid you a good evening, then, Lady
Selima, and to you also, Remus, Professor Snape. It was a pleasure to meet you,
Theodore, Dylan." He smiled with all apparent sincerity and held out his hand,
and Dylan and Theo shook it.
"Likewise, sir," Theodore said, still looking a little dazed by the fact that he
and Blaise had won the approval of their grandparents.
"I'm sure we'll be seeing much more of each other," Prospero said cheerfully to
the Snapes, "seeing as how we are all family now, in a sense." Then he threw a
handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped through the flames before
anyone could respond. Marius glared at his father, then followed him; Olivia
followed with a sigh. Grinning, Blaise and Allegra said goodnight to their hosts
and left through the Floo as well.
Selima shook her head. "He's a grandfather now, and he still plays the part of
the charming rogue."
"How did Prospero's wife die?" Lupin asked curiously.
"She died in childbirth, along with their daughter, when Marius was ten," Selima
replied.
"How sad," Lupin murmured, then a speculative look filled his blue eyes. "But
that means he is a widower, and you are now a widow, Lady Selima..."
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Professor!" Selima snapped. "This isn't one of
Prospero's silly novels. We aren't going to renew some old school romance after
forty years!"
"Why not?" Lupin asked in a reasonable tone of voice. "You're both single now.
Of course I understand that you need to observe a mourning period for Lord
Severin, but after that--"
"It was a foolish, childish infatuation, nothing more!" Selima insisted, but she
was blushing a little. "It was over and done with long ago. We are both much too
old to start over again."
"You're little more than a third of Dumbledore's age," Lupin pointed out. "I'd
hardly call you 'old'."
"I don't wish to marry again!" Selima snapped. "And certainly not Prospero, who
is clearly still as irresponsible as ever! Mind your own business, Lupin!" And
then she stalked out of the room, her skirts swirling around her, looking much
more flustered than was normal for cool, controlled Lady Snape.
"Hmm, I think that's only the second or third time that she's actually called me
by my name and not 'Professor' or 'the werewolf,'" Lupin mused. "I think that
might be a good sign, even if it was said in anger."
"She's right, you know," Snape told him. "Stay out of this."
"But what if she still loves him?" Dylan asked. "Blaise's grandfather acts like
he still has feelings for her. I mean, why else does he write all these
impossible love stories about a beggar falling in love with a princess, or a
demon falling in love with a human?"
Snape glared at his foster son. "Perhaps I should ban Zabini's--excuse me, Ariel
Zoltaire's--books from Slytherin House. Clearly they're a bad influence on my
students."
"Don't you think your mother deserves a little happiness, after all she's been
through?" Lupin asked.
"What makes you so sure that Prospero Zabini will make her happy?" Snape
retorted, evading the question. "I've never seen two people more unlike and
ill-suited to each other. I'll bet they fought like cats and dogs even when they
were still courting back in school."
"You mean, like us?" Lupin asked sweetly, and the boys grinned. Snape silently
cursed himself for walking right into that one.
"My mother is more sensible than I am," Snape growled.
"True," Lupin agreed calmly, "but I believe there's still hope for her." He
smiled lovingly at Theodore and reached up to stroke his cheek. "It wasn't
Slytherin practicality and ambition that made her decide to stand by Theodore
and Blaise; I think it was love. Love for her new grandson, and fear of losing
him. And perhaps love for Prospero as well. It wasn't until she got a good look
at Blaise that she finally gave in, after all. Did you see the way she looked at
him, almost wistfully?"
"I suppose it's useless to ask you not to interfere," Snape said wearily.
"A complete waste of time," Lupin agreed cheerfully, and Snape smiled a little
in spite of himself.
"I don't understand why I'm not the one with gray hair, considering everything
you put me through," Snape grumbled as Lupin grinned. He held out his arm and
Lupin took it, and they headed upstairs to their bedroom together. The boys
laughed softly and followed.