Aftermaths, Part 93

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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The remainder of Christmas vacation was uneventful, much to Snape's relief. When Dylan went to visit the Donners for a few days, the house was a little more quiet than usual, at least until Prospero Zabini stopped by as promised to interview Lupin for his "research". He brought more roses and a box of pastries, which Selima accepted with polite but cool thanks. She served the pastries with tea in the sunroom, watching with her usual blank expression as Lupin and Prospero engaged in an animated conversation. Snape listened in bemusement as Lupin described the transformation process and what it felt like to live with his wolfish side in much more detail than he normally did with strangers or even his curious students. He just hoped that Lupin wouldn't regret it when Prospero's book came out, and silently vowed that he would make Prospero very, very sorry if he did anything to hurt or embarrass Lupin, Blaise's grandfather or not.

Prospero also chatted with Theodore in an easy, friendly manner, which eased Snape's hostility and raised his opinion of the man slightly. He honestly didn't seem to mind that the boys were a couple; perhaps it helped that Theodore and Dylan were apparently fans of Ariel Zoltaire as well. Snape smiled wryly to himself as he sipped his tea; Prospero wasn't as vain as Gilderoy Lockhart, but he clearly enjoyed hearing Lupin's and Theodore's praises of his books.

Then again, Prospero Zabini was a Slytherin, and one could not overlook the possibility of ulterior motives. Prospero made a few attempts to initiate small talk with Selima, and seemed to give up and turn his attention back to Lupin and Theodore when his efforts were rebuffed with cool, curt responses. But Snape noticed how he kept watching Selima out of the corner of his eye, even when he was talking to someone else. It was very subtle, but not unnoticeable to Snape, who had spent years obsessively watching Lupin from a distance. Maybe Prospero welcomed the boys' romance because it gave him a chance to get reacquainted with his old flame. Snape wasn't really sure how he felt about that; even if he'd had little love for his father, it was disconcerting to watch his mother being courted by another man.

"Don't you think your mother deserves a little happiness?" Lupin had asked, and Snape had avoided answering the question. Did he want to deny her a second chance at happiness with her old love as revenge for his miserable childhood? No, not really, he finally decided after thinking it over for a long time. If he had not entirely forgiven his mother, neither did he want to actively hurt her. She had become a part of his family when he had returned home and accepted the heirship, however reluctantly, and Theodore and Lupin had grown attached to her. Trying to pursue a vendetta against his mother would upset the delicate balance they had achieved, might harm not just Selima, but also his lover and son. But...it was difficult to picture Selima being happy--truly happy, and not just pleased with some political triumph she had achieved. It was even more difficult to picture her as a young girl in love with a very unsuitable and impractical young man. And yet she must have loved him, if she had planned to marry him, if she had gone to the trouble of devising a scheme to win her family's approval for their marriage. For the first time, Snape realized just how much her marriage to his father must have changed her, and how much she must have given up to become a proper and loyal wife to him. And for the first time, he began to feel a little sympathy for her--which immediately awoke conflicting feelings of resentment, because he didn't want to feel sorry for her. Snape sighed to himself; things had been much easier when he had simply hated his mother.

"Well, thank you for your time, Remus," Prospero finally said, when the tea had gone cold and there was nothing left of the pastries but a few crumbs.

"Oh, it was my pleasure!" Lupin said warmly, and Snape scowled a little. Perhaps the comparison to Gilderoy Lockhart was a little too apt; he disliked seeing Lupin looking almost as starry-eyed as the female students had over Lockhart. Prospero autographed Lupin's books before he left, as he had promised, and also a couple books of Theodore's that the boy had brought out, giving Snape a sheepish and apologetic smile. Then he thanked Selima for the tea, bowing over her hand and kissing her fingertips. Selima gave him a disdainful look, but Snape noticed that she did not pull her hand away.

Snape rose to his feet and said in a silky voice, "Allow me to see you out, Lord Zabini," which caused Theodore and Lupin to give him puzzled looks, and Selima a suspicious one.

"Why, thank you, Professor Snape," Prospero said pleasantly and followed him out of the room. "Although I do wish you would simply call me 'Prospero'."

"Because, as you told your son, we might have been family under different circumstances?" Snape asked, a little sarcastically.

"That, and the fact that I'm not much for formalities," Prospero said with a smile, showing no sign of being offended.

"Don't get me wrong, Prospero," Snape said. "I'm grateful that you've been so understanding about Theodore and Blaise, and that you helped smooth things over with your son. But I want to make it clear I won't allow any harm, however insignificant, to come to my family. I would take it most amiss if, say, a parody of a certain werewolf appeared in your novels, or if unsavory rumors began circulating about my mother taking lovers before the official mourning period is over."

"I did not think that you were one to be concerned with guarding your reputation, Severus," Prospero said with a gentle smile.

"I don't give a damn about MY reputation," Snape said flatly. "I'm well aware that I've already ruined it several times over. But my mother cares very much about hers, and no one can cast any doubt upon Lady Selima's honor--as yet. And I know how many of her so-called friends would love to see her knocked off her pedestal." Snape was suddenly acutely aware that Selima had little more than her reputation or honor left to her now that her husband was dead and her son had assumed the title. She had once said that Snape could cast her out of the Manor if he wished now that he was Lord, and technically she was right. She did not really have anything else of her own; all her wealth and power had come to her through her husband, and she kept it only on sufferance, because her son chose not to take it from her. No wonder she had always guarded her reputation so fiercely.

"It is well, Severus, to see that you are so protective of your family," Prospero said softly, still with that gentle smile, and Snape's face turned red. "I was worried about Selima when I heard the news of Severin's illness and then his death, so I am glad that she has someone looking out for her well-being. I'm glad that she isn't alone." Caught off guard by this unexpected response, Snape was too flustered to come up with an immediate reply. In a more serious voice, Prospero said, "I swear on my family's honor that I intend no harm to your mother, that I will do nothing to jeopardize her reputation or stain her honor. I have hurt Selima once before with my careless stupidity and youthful pride; I swear that I will never do such a thing again. A second chance at love is a great miracle, Severus--one that I never expected. I have waited forty years for this chance; I will not risk ruining things by being impatient and moving too quickly. I know that not only must I observe the social proprieties of courting a widow, but that it will take time to gain Selima's trust again."

"Even so, you seem very confident that you can win my mother over eventually," Snape observed in a sour voice.

Prospero gave him a charming, mischievous smile that would have looked more at home on Lupin's face than on one that looked so much like Blaise's. Blaise was unusually quiet and meek for a Slytherin, while Snape highly doubted that anyone had ever used the word "meek" to describe Prospero. "But I am a hopeless romantic, Severus," Prospero said lightly. "Which you would know if you had read any of my books."

"Why did you decide to grant your approval to the boys?" Snape asked. Normally he would not have bothered asking such a question of a Slytherin, but Prospero was eccentric enough that he just might answer honestly. "Was it just so that you would have an excuse to see my mother again?"

"I want my grandson to be happy," Prospero replied. "After what happened to Selima and myself, I vowed that I would never let any of my children or grandchildren be forced into arranged marriages. Even if Blaise had been in love with Draco Malfoy instead of Theodore, Merlin forbid, I would still have done the same thing, so long as I was sure that the boy really loved Blaise and wasn't just using him. Actually, Blaise tells me that he considers Draco a friend now, which is certainly something I had never pictured happening, but I trust my grandson's judgment--in both his friends and his lovers."

"So your motivation was purely selfless," Snape said skeptically.

Prospero smiled. "Well, I won't deny that I welcomed the chance to see Selima again when I learned who Blaise's secret lover was. I see no reason why we can't all be happy." Snape let out a little snort, half in derision, half in amusement. "But I must admit that your mother surprised me--I thought I would have to persuade her as well as my son to let the boys remain together."

"Yes, she surprised us all," Snape admitted. And he had a sneaking suspicion that Selima would not have given in so easily if Blaise had not been a Zabini.

"So perhaps there is hope for me after all," Prospero laughed.

"Maybe," Snape conceded grudgingly. "But I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

"No, that would be most unwise," Prospero agreed, still smiling cheerfully. "As I said, I know I must take things slowly. So for now I will simply be grateful that she just barely tolerates my presence in her company. And so as not to overstay my welcome, I will bid you good day, Lord Severus." He bowed with a flourish, and Snape almost smiled in spite of himself.

He scowled fiercely to cover it up. "I prefer 'Professor' to 'Lord,'" he said coolly. "This 'Lord' business is my mother's idea. Although I suppose you can continue to call me by name, since we suddenly seem to be on a first-name basis."

"I beg your pardon if I have given offense, Professor," Prospero said, bowing again.

The apology was politely worded, but Snape thought he could still detect a hint of laughter in Prospero's voice. Honestly, the man should have been a Gryffindor; no wonder he and Lupin got along so well! "You'd hardly be the first," Snape said irritably, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Then I bid you good day, Severus," Prospero said, and departed through the Floo.

Snape returned to the sunroom to find Lupin trying to press one of Prospero's books upon Lady Selima. "I have no interest in reading that sort of trash," Selima was protesting.

"Just try it," Lupin urged. "It's not really fair to judge a book if you haven't read it."

"Whatever gave you the impression that I was fair, Professor?" Selima retorted.

"His books really are good, Grandmother," Theodore chimed in.

"It might give you some insight into Prospero," Lupin cajoled.

"I don't need any insight into him," Selima said coolly. "I knew him quite well when we were younger, and he doesn't seem to have changed much over the years."

"Please, Lady Selima," Lupin wheedled in the tone that always grated on Snape's nerves. "Just try reading one of them. If you don't like it, I promise I'll never bother you about it again."

Selima sighed irritably and held out her hand. "Very well, if only to silence you."

Lupin hesitated, looking over the stack of books he was holding, as if trying to decide which book to give her. He finally settled on "The Beggar Prince," which Snape recalled seemed to be a reworking of the story of Aladdin, from the plot Dylan had described when they were discussing Ariel Zoltaire's books on Christmas morning.

Selima glanced at the cover and the summary on the dust jacket. "He seems to have lifted the plot from 'The Thousand and One Nights,'" she observed, a little disdainfully.

"Was he fond of those tales?" Lupin asked casually.

"He was always fond of fanciful tales," Selima replied distractedly, still reading the book jacket, "and I once gave him a copy of--" She abruptly cut off the sentence, flushed, and glared at Lupin, who was smiling at her innocently. She stalked out of the room, taking the book with her.

"I'd like to borrow some of those other books if you don't mind, Lupin," Snape said, taking amusement in the look of shock his lover gave him. It wasn't often that he could catch the werewolf off-guard rather than the other way around.

"Of course, Severus," Lupin replied when he recovered. "But may I ask what brought about this change of heart?"

"Maybe my mother doesn't need any insight into Prospero Zabini," Snape said, "but I do. If he's going to be meddling in the affairs of this family, then I need to get an idea of what he's like, what motivates him. If these books will help me do that, then I'll wade through the tripe that's in them, as distasteful as that will be."

Lupin smiled and handed him a stack of books. "You might be surprised, Sev; you might actually like them."

"Yes, and the Ministry of Magic might decide to grant the house-elves equal rights, but it isn't very likely," Snape said sarcastically.

But when he skimmed through the books, he discovered that they seemed to be well-plotted, with the action moving along at a quick pace, and the characters were vividly depicted. He had not read much fiction since he was a student, although there were times when he would have welcomed a brief distraction from his misery after losing Lupin and then becoming a Death Eater and a spy. But he had preferred to let his bitterness and hatred fester rather than seek escapism through fairy tales and fantasies that would never come true.

Still, Snape had to admit that the stories were entertaining, if a little melodramatic. Dylan's observation that Prospero's books were all "impossible love stories" turned out to be an astute one. Nearly all the books involved some sort of romance thwarted by social imbalance: a poor young man falling in love with a wealthy highborn girl or vice versa; a demon king falling in love with a mortal woman; a young wizard falling in love with a princess of the Sidhe. One story was about a star-crossed romance between lovers from feuding families, reminiscent of "Romeo and Juliet," except that it had a happy ending; all of Prospero's stories did. They were either a form of wish fulfillment, or the man had a romantic streak in him worthy of a Gryffindor--maybe both. Prospero certainly had a silver tongue, as Selima had claimed, and his charm and wit could have promoted him through the ranks of the Ministry if he'd been willing to flatter the right people--which apparently he hadn't. Snape wasn't able to glean anything else useful from the books, but he kept reading them anyway--just to be thorough, of course.

"Sev?" Lupin called. "It's time for dinner."

Snape looked up from the book he was reading with a start. "Oh, I didn't realize it was that late."

"Yes, you seemed to be quite absorbed in that book," Lupin said with a smile.

"It's research, Lupin," Snape told him in a haughty voice.

"Yes, of course it is," Lupin said with a grin.

"Sarcasm does not become you, Lupin," Snape said, glaring at him.

"I'm just agreeing with you," Lupin protested, giving him a wounded look. "I don't see how you can take offense at that."

"Right," Snape snorted.

"Now who's being sarcastic?" Lupin laughed.
***

The next day, Selima took Theodore to visit the art gallery that was part of the Snape holdings. Snape wasn't overly interested in art, so he remained behind, intending to do more "research" on Prospero's books. However, as he was reading, the book suddenly flew out of his hands, and he looked up to see Lupin standing in the doorway, the book in one hand and his wand in the other.

"I thought you were going to tag along with Theodore and my mother," a startled Snape said.

Lupin shook his head, pocketing his wand and setting the book aside on the desk. "No, I thought it might be better to let Selima and Theo spend some time alone together." Lupin slipped his arms around Snape and bent down to kiss his neck. "Besides, I thought it might be nice for us to have a little time alone, too." Lupin straightened up and started to pull away. "But if you're too busy with your research..."

"No," Snape said hastily, grabbing hold of Lupin, "I think it's time I took a break, anyway. There's only so much of that maudlin tripe I can read in one sitting."

They spent a pleasant afternoon making love, and were dressed and having tea in the drawing room when Selima and Theodore returned. It seemed that the outing had gone well, because Theodore was smiling and Selima looked calm and relaxed, even a little amused.

"I bought you a present, Remus," Theodore said.

"And here it's past Christmas!" Lupin laughed.

"It's just something small," Theodore said, reaching into his pocket. He handed Lupin a small leather pouch that contained a wolf figurine similar to the one Ali had given him for Christmas, except that this one was made of polished wood instead of turquoise.

"How lovely," Lupin said. "Thank you."

"Mr. Bashir sold a bunch of these carvings to the gallery," Theodore explained, "some made from wood, like this one, and others made from ivory or gemstones. The manager said they're very popular, especially with the younger witches and wizards."

"It has to do with the werewolves' newfound popularity and their role as heroes in the war," Selima said, a look of sardonic amusement on her face. "They aren't actually enchanted, but the young people treat them as good-luck charms."

"Good-luck charms?" a puzzled Lupin asked.

"Charms to give one the strength and courage of a wolf," Theodore said with a grin.

"I don't know how all this got started," Selima said, rolling her eyes, although she still seemed amused. "Young people get the most ridiculous ideas sometimes."

"Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Ali started the rumor himself," Snape mused.

Lupin laughed, "Well, perhaps we should get one of those for Lukas! He could use a good-luck charm with his trial coming up."

"That reminds me," Selima said, "I should invite him over for tea. His trial will be coming up soon, and I want to be sure he's prepared for it."

"Poor Bleddri," Snape muttered under his breath.
***

Lukas showed up the next day dressed in the green-and-gold robes and the torc he had worn to the Yule Ball. He still looked stunning, even though the effect was slightly marred by the sullen scowl he wore, and Selima gasped when she saw him.

"What's the matter?" Lukas growled. "Robes not on straight? Or is just that it looks ridiculous for a werewolf to be dressing up as a pureblood Lord?"

"It's just...in those robes...with that torc...you look like Cynric come back to life again," Selima stammered. To the shock of the others in the room, there seemed to be tears glimmering in her eyes.

"Are you all right, Mother?" Snape asked.

Selima turned away for a moment and hastily composed herself. When she turned back to them, her face looked calm and controlled once more. "Yes, I am fine," she replied. "It was just the shock of seeing Cyril. He has always resembled his father, of course, but dressed in proper clothes, he looks more like Cynric than ever. Green and gold were his favorite colors, and he always loved the torc that Anya gave him on their wedding day. I think that you should wear that exact outfit to court, Cyril. Most of the members of the Wizengamot are old enough to remember your father, and if you stand before them as you are now, none of them will be able to deny that you are Cynric Diggory's son."

"Very well," Lukas said, reaching up to fiddle nervously with the torc.

"And don't fidget!" she snapped. "It makes you look like a child waiting to be punished for some misdeed. A Lord should be calm and composed; you must project an air of arrogance, as if there is no doubt in your mind that you are in the right."

"Yes, Lady Selima," Lukas replied in a resigned tone, and Snape gave him a sympathetic look while Lupin tried not to laugh. Theodore just sat there looking bemused at the sight of his grandmother scolding and lecturing the werewolf teacher that all the students at Hogwarts were a little afraid of.

They talked and drank tea for about an hour, as Selima drilled Lukas in pureblood etiquette, correcting his speech and mannerisms, and lecturing him in the proper way to address the court and his pureblood peers. "And they are your peers," she reminded him. "Your blood is as good as theirs; you are descended from two old and noble pureblood lines--never forget that, and don't let them forget it, either."

"Yes, Lady Selima," Lukas said. Actually, since he had grown up in a pureblood Slytherin family, he was already familiar with pureblood etiquette, although his manners were rusty from disuse, and he simply needed a few reminders and a little practice, rather than needing to be taught from scratch. He had idolized his father as a child, and found himself recalling the way that Cynric could convey either respect or contempt with a slight nod of his head, or couch a subtle insult within polite and flowery words. When Selima commanded him to act like a "proper" Lord, Lukas automatically found himself reacting in the way that he thought his father would.

"Very good," Selima finally said approvingly. "If you can keep from growling and baring your teeth, you'll be fine."

Lukas bit back a growl and glared at Lupin, who was trying to choke back his laughter. Actually, that was the hardest part--controlling his temper. Falling back into pureblood mannerisms and patterns of speech was easier than he had thought it would be, but he had allowed his wolfish instincts to dominate him for so long that it was difficult to overcome them. They had saved his life more than once, during his years on the street and in the final battle with the Death Eaters, allowing him to react instantly to defend himself against danger without having to stop and think about it, but it was a hindrance in the precise, formal, ritualized world of the pureblood elite.

Snape, surprisingly, was more sympathetic than his lover, perhaps because he'd also endured Lady Selima's lectures for most of his life. "You're doing fine, Bleddri," he said in a placating tone. "You've managed to refrain from killing Lupin, my mother, and your students, which certainly shows a great deal of self-control, as far as I'm concerned." Selima gave him a cold look, and Lupin kept laughing. "Besides, it's only temporary," Snape said, ignoring the other two. "You only have to behave yourself long enough for the court to rule in your favor."

"That's true only up to a point," Selima corrected her son. "If you behave in an irrational manner, that might give cause for Amos or someone else to challenge your right to head the Diggory family."

"But the court doesn't like to reverse its decisions," Snape argued. "It makes them look foolish. So while you may have to behave with a little more decorum in public from now on, I don't think you need to worry unless you start biting people or howling at the moon."

Selima shot another glare at her son, then began describing the members of the court, and who was likely to be friendly or hostile towards him. "They might convene the full Wizengamot for this," she said. "Normally they wouldn't bother for a simple matter of inheritance, but appointing a werewolf head of a pureblood family would be setting an unheard-of precedent, so I think it's quite likely that a great deal of importance will be attached to your case."

"Lovely," Lukas muttered.

"The majority of the Wizengamot were allies of Lucius Malfoy up until recently," Selima lectured. "But some of them simply feared him and are glad to be rid of them, while the others will tread carefully to avoid having people suspect them of being Death Eater sympathizers." She paused, then continued in a matter-of-fact voice, "Fortunately, Dolores Umbridge, who was responsible for much of the anti-werewolf legislation, has still not recovered from her nervous breakdown, and is currently knitting doilies and muttering incoherently to herself in a ward at St. Mungo's, so I hear. And Cornelius Fudge, who placed a great deal of importance on blood purity and would likely have opposed your claim, is dead, making way for a much more liberal Minister of Magic in Arthur Weasley."

"Yes, that's very fortunate," Lukas said dryly, then leaned over and whispered to Snape, "Remind me not to ever get on your mother's bad side." Snape smiled sardonically, and Lupin chuckled.

"It is always dangerous to make an enemy of a Snape," Selima said coolly; apparently her hearing was almost as good as a werewolf's. "Now, if you are quite done, may I continue?" She waited until she had their full attention, then continued, "Since Dumbledore is openly supporting you, Cyril, I suspect that he will not be allowed to head the Wizengamot due to personal bias, in which case Amelia Bones will likely preside. She comes from a Hufflepuff family, and was on friendly terms with your father's parents, though not overly close to them," Selima said. "But it could be worse; she is known for being scrupulously fair, and I believe she'll judge the case on its own merits. Also, she backed Arthur Weasley's candidacy for Minister, and supported him on the equal rights bill."

"Yes, Morrigan said much the same thing," Lukas agreed. "And she said she might need to call upon you--all of you--as character witnesses."

"Of course," Selima replied. "We will help in any way we can."

"You have our full support," Lupin assured his friend warmly, and Snape just nodded curtly.

"Good luck, Master Bleddri," Theodore said with a shy smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Snape," Lukas sighed. "I suspect I'll need all the luck I can get."
***

By coincidence--or perhaps not, since the purebloods always seemed to know what each other were up to--Lukas received a visitor at Hogwarts the very next day, a man with dark hair and white streaks at his temples, who looked vaguely familiar.

"I am Prospero Zabini," the man said, bowing slightly to him.

"Blaise's father?" Lukas asked, then realized that the name as well as the face was familiar to him. "No--his grandfather. You went to school with my parents, didn't you? I recall hearing them talk about you from time to time."

"Lamenting my feckless and irresponsible ways, no doubt," Prospero chuckled good-naturedly. "I met you a few times, but I suppose you don't remember, since you were just a young lad at the time."

"No, I do remember," Lukas said, although he hadn't right until this moment. "You gave me a book of fairy tales for my birthday when I was five years old, and my mother got very upset when she realized it contained several stories about villainous wolves--you know, Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Little Pigs, The Wolf and the Seven Kids. She was afraid you might have guessed my secret, and my father had to calm her down and remind her that those are common stories found in most fairy tale collections and that it wasn't in your nature to do something that cruel--or that subtle."

"Yes, 'subtle' wasn't really my strong point--a major flaw in a Slytherin," Prospero admitted with a smile. "Poor Anya; I didn't mean to distress her. I never suspected, but of course I would have kept your secret if I had known. It doesn't surprise me, though, that Cynric confided in no one, not even his best friends. He was always a much better Slytherin than I." Prospero stated that calmly, not sounding hurt or offended.

"He promised his parents that he wouldn't tell anyone about my lycanthropy," Lukas explained. "Otherwise they would have disowned him. Although I can't say whether or not he would have confided in you if he wasn't bound to his promise." Lukas thought it was a little strange that old friends of his parents kept popping out of the woodwork; first Selima Snape, and now Prospero Zabini. He cleared his throat and changed the subject, asking, "Well, what can I do for you, sir? Blaise is a good student; he hasn't been having any problems in my class, or any of his other classes as far as I know. Er...if this is about what happened at the Yule Ball, perhaps you should be speaking to Professor Snape--"

"Oh no, no," Prospero said with a cheerful smile. "All that's been settled. A childish prank involving some spiked punch was to blame, so I hear. A bit embarrassing for the boys, I suppose, but things will blow over eventually." He smiled disingenuously, and Lukas gave him a puzzled look, wondering what was going on. He had expected Lady Selima and the Zabini family to raise a great fuss over the incident, but Selima had acted as if everything was normal at tea the other day, and neither she nor Prospero seemed the least bit concerned or angry. Of course, they might just be putting on a good face in public, but Lukas supposed that it wasn't really his business either way. He had felt a bit sorry for the boys, knowing the opposition they were likely to face from their families, but he knew that Lupin and Snape would be fierce in defending their son's happiness, so he wasn't too worried.

"Then why are you here?" Lukas asked.

"I heard about your upcoming trial," Prospero replied, "and I wanted to offer you my support, for whatever that's worth." He smiled ruefully at Lukas. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid that's not worth much among my pureblood peers. I don't have the wealth or influence that, for example, the Snapes do. But your father was one of my best friends, and I can offer you my friendship, as I would have done for him."

"Meaning no offense..." Lukas hesitated, not sure how to address the man, then settled on the formal and polite title warranted by his blood if not his wealth, or rather, his lack of wealth. "...Lord Zabini, but I cannot call a man 'friend' when I do not know him, though I do appreciate your offer of support."

"Fair enough," Prospero said. "And please call me 'Prospero'. I think we both know that 'Lord' is a rather empty title in my case. I do not blame you for being wary; perhaps you are wondering where all your father's friends were twenty-five years ago. I swear that if I had known you were alive, I would have done everything I could to help you, though I know that is cold comfort to you now."

Lukas hesitated for a moment, then said, "There was no way for you to know I was alive. But did you never suspect foul play in my father's death?"

"There were whispered rumors," Prospero said frowning, "but there are always ugly whispered rumors at every funeral--or wedding, or just about any formal pureblood gathering, actually. I don't think that anyone truly believed them, including myself. I might have suspected it of, say, the Blacks or the Malfoys, but the Diggorys always seemed harmless. They didn't get along with Cynric, but no one could picture a Hufflepuff being that ruthless. Of course, the fact that they lied about your death sheds a different light on things..." His voice trailed off, and he had a sad, thoughtful look on his face, his eyes distant, as if he was not really looking at the man standing in front of him, but inward, at his memories of the past. Then he shook his head and his gaze focused on Lukas once more. "I am sorry I was not there for you in the past, Cyril. I know that nothing I can do will make up for that, and I know that you have no reason to trust me. But if you cannot accept my friendship, at least let me make this offer: if ever you are in need, you may call on me, and I swear I will do anything in my power to help you."

"That's a rather bold offer," Lukas said suspiciously. "Slytherins normally hedge such promises in with specific conditions. If your offer is sincere, why would you go so far to help a man who is essentially a stranger to you? You have not seen me since I was a child, and you have no idea who I am now. I am not even really a man--I am a werewolf, a Dark Creature..."

"Cynric and Anya were both honorable and loyal people," Prospero said quietly. "I cannot believe that any son of theirs could be less so. And your father once did me a favor, which I foolishly squandered through no fault of his. I never had the chance to repay that debt, so the least I can do is to offer my help to his son. Besides, Lady Selima has openly given you her support, and you must truly be a remarkable man to have pulled off such a miracle. And also, my grandson thinks highly of you."

"You know Lady Selima?" Lukas asked in surprise.

Prospero smiled. "We were all housemates at Slytherin," he replied casually, "your mother and father and Selima and I, although we were all in different years, except for Selima and Anya."

Lukas hesitated. Prospero Zabini was a stranger to him, and he had no real reason to trust him. On the other hand, his parents had regarded Prospero as a friend, so Lukas had no particular reason to distrust him, either. He had few enough allies among the pureblood families, so he supposed that Prospero's support couldn't hurt, even though the Zabinis were not very influential. But Lukas could not help but wonder what ulterior motives the Zabini Lord might have; was he really only acting out of loyalty to an old friend, or was he perhaps hoping to gain new allies to benefit his family? "Thank you for coming to see me, Prospero," Lukas said cautiously. He did not want to reject Prospero's offer of help out of hand, but neither did he think it wise to commit himself to it without knowing what the other man might expect in return. "I am sure my parents would be touched by your concern and loyalty."

Prospero smiled, looking amused, apparently having seen through Lukas's polite evasion, although he did not seem offended. "You remind me very much of your father, Cyril. Or...do you prefer 'Master Bleddri'? I do not wish to be presumptuous."

"I suppose I should get used to being called by my old name," Lukas sighed. "I will have to take it up again if I do win my lawsuit, after all."

Prospero bowed. "Then I bid you good day, Cyril. I meant what I said; do not hesitate to call on me if there is anything I can do for you." He smiled shrewdly. "I expect nothing in return." Lukas flushed a little, and Prospero added good-naturedly, "It is reward enough to see you alive and well. And thank you for looking after my grandson. I hope he never needs your lessons, but it is good to know that he will be able to defend himself if the need arises."

"Ah...you're welcome," Lukas said, caught off-guard, and Prospero bowed again and departed. Lukas shook his head, thinking to himself that the purebloods were turning out to be a bit more eccentric than he had expected. He had expected them to be arrogant, narrow-minded snobs, and for the most part they were, but a few of them had surprised him, like Selima and Severus Snape, his Slytherin students, even his lawyer Morrigan, who seemed to take great pleasure in stirring up her fellow purebloods. Unbidden, one more name and face popped into his head: Narcissa Malfoy. He felt his blood heat, felt the wolf suddenly rouse within him, growling hungrily. Horrified, he shook his head quickly, trying to banish those thoughts from his mind. Narcissa was a typical pureblood snob, exactly the kind of person he had always despised. He absolutely, positively did not desire her--at least, that was Lukas tried to tell himself. The wolf, however, kept remembering the sweet scent of perfume and the sensation of smooth, soft skin beneath his hands and mouth...

He snarled and kicked a chair halfway across the room; the one small part of his mind that was not preoccupied with lust or anger felt grateful that Lady Selima was not here to scold him for losing control of his temper. "It's been too damn long since I last got laid," he growled, because surely that was all it was. Animal instinct had simply overridden common sense for a brief moment, but he was sane now. He could have left Hogwarts and spent some time with his pack, finding solace in their company. There were even a few female werewolves among them who would not have minded a casual dalliance, and he could have indulged in a little mutual pleasure with one of them, easing the wolf's hunger with no need for commitments or fear of hurt feelings on either side. Instead, Lukas stomped off to the bathroom to take a cold shower, slamming the door behind him.
***

Meanwhile, some of the students had been having a difficult time as well. Ron and Daphne had not spoken to each other since the Ball; both of them turned bright red and looked away whenever they happened to glance at each other. Hermione told Ron that he was being silly and that he should just talk to Daphne, but Ron couldn't seem to work up the nerve to do so.

Harry probably would have been having a similar problem if he hadn't gone back to Grimmauld Place after the Ball. He felt both disappointed and relieved at the same time that he wouldn't have to face Ginny for another week. And as much as he loved Sirius, his godfather was not being particularly sympathetic or helpful.

"Well, aren't you relieved, Harry?" Sirius said with a huge grin the next morning, giving Harry a hearty slap on the back. "It seems that your young lady does fancy you, after all!"

"But what if it was just the potion that made her do it?" Harry protested. "We all acted weird...I felt like I was drunk or something." Professor Blackmore raised her eyebrows at that. "At least, that's what I imagine being drunk feels like," Harry hastily added. "I've never actually been drunk before."

Sirius shrugged, seeming puzzled that Harry didn't look happier. "Snape said it was a Truth Potion, right? It might have loosened her tongue a bit, but her feelings were real."

"It was a Potion of Liberation," Blackmore corrected, "but close enough. Although I believe Severus might let people think that it was something a bit more...er...mind altering, to help Theodore and Blaise save face."

"I had no idea that those two were gay," Harry muttered, temporarily distracted from his own troubles.

"That's because they were discreet, as most Slytherins are about such things," Blackmore said calmly.

"You knew?" Harry asked in surprise.

"No," Blackmore replied. "But in hindsight, it doesn't really surprise me. I hope they're able to work things out with their families. Selima Snape in particular isn't going to be happy about this."

"But what should I do about Ginny?" Harry fretted.

"You like her; she likes you--I don't see what the problem is," Sirius said.

"I still feel like the potion made us say those things," Harry tried to explain. "It's just not the same as if we said it on our own, somehow."

Blackmore seemed to understand even if Sirius didn't. She smiled at him gently and said, "A confession of love should be freely given, not forced."

"Uh, yeah, I guess that's it," Harry said, his face turning red. He'd been thinking more along the lines of "like" rather than "love". He still hadn't had a proper date with a girl (his excursion to Madam Puddifoot's with Cho had gone badly, and last night's Yule Ball had been cut short by the spiked punch incident), and it amazed him that other people his own age, like Millicent Bulstrode, were already thinking of marriage. {Maybe I'm just a slow learner,} Harry thought gloomily, then comforted himself with the fact that Ron hadn't exactly had a lot of success in the romance department, either. He wondered what would happen between his friend and Daphne, and wondered if Ron felt just as confused and mortified as he did.

"Well then," Sirius said cheerfully, "what you should do is ask Ginny out on a proper date when you go back to school, with no Truth Potion involved."

"We won't have a Hogsmeade day till February," Harry complained.

"Then take her for a stroll by the lake, or up to the Astronomy Tower to gaze at the stars," Sirius said, a little impatiently. "There are lots of opportunities for romance at Hogwarts, Harry."

"You should know," Blackmore told him dryly, "seeing as how you've tried them all. Although somehow I don't think that Miss Weasley would find the Quidditch supplies storeroom or the space under the Quidditch stands very romantic."

Sirius laughed, blushing a little. "No, I don't think Ginny is that type of girl," he agreed. He patted Harry on the shoulder. "Cheer up, Harry, things will work out."

"Just be honest with Ginny," Blackmore advised him.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said obediently, although privately he was thinking that was easier said than done.

Part 94