Aftermaths, Part 98

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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Lukas Bleddri was also having a bad week. The trial had originally been scheduled for the previous week, but Morrigan had asked the Ministry to postpone it. A continuance had been granted, but they were both sure that it had not been an accident that the opening date of the trial had been slated for the exact day of the full moon. Lukas knew that he had enemies at the Ministry--some of them probably just hated werewolves in general, and others might be personal friends of Amos. On one hand, asking that the opening date be moved was probably giving his opponent ammunition to use against him by drawing attention to the fact that he was incapacitated once every month. But Lukas had decided that it would be even worse to go to court feeling tired, sore, and short-tempered. The Wolfsbane Potion mitigated the first two somewhat, but did nothing for the last; the emotions of a werewolf always ran high near the full moon. Amos and his lawyer were bound to say something stupid and inflammatory, and it probably wouldn't help Lukas's case any if he bit one of them--or even just snarled at them a little.

So Lukas showed up at court the week after the full moon, still feeling grumpy but much more in control of his emotions. He wore, as Selima had suggested, the green and gold robes she had given him, along with his father's torc. The courtroom did nothing to inspire confidence in him; it reminded him of the dungeon at Hogwarts, rough stone walls lit by torches--only even more gloomy and less welcoming. There were no windows in the room, and the wolf inside him didn't like being enclosed underground in a place that seemed more like a prison than a courtroom.

"They're just trying to intimidate you," Morrigan whispered. "Don't let it bother it you--or at least, don't let them see that it does."

Lukas nodded curtly. It would take more than a dark room to intimidate the pack leader of the werewolves; he had faced down the Death Eaters, after all, while most of these pampered pureblood wizards had cowered in fear in the safety of their homes. He held his head up high, and strode into the courtroom as if he owned it; Morrigan smiled in approval. He heard startled gasps and whispers as he entered the room and moved into the light.

"Good Lord!"

"It's like seeing a ghost!"

"He looks just like Cynric!"

A witch with short gray hair and a monocle pounded a gavel on the desk in front of her. "Order in the court!" she shouted in a crisp, stern voice. She sat in the center of the first row of benches in the balcony at the front of the room, next to the Minister of the Magic. All of the court members wore plum-colored robes with an elaborate silver "W" embroidered across the left side of the chest. There seemed to be about fifty of them, so Morrigan must have been right about the full Wizengamot being called to oversee the case.

"That's Amelia Bones," Morrigan whispered to Lukas.

The proceedings were open to the public, and besides the benches for the Wizengamot in the balcony, there were also benches along the sides of the room that were filled with curiosity seekers and reporters. Lukas recognized Rita Skeeter with her jeweled spectacles, furiously scribbling notes with an acid-green quill. He didn't really like the woman, but her articles had been responsible for the public's sudden change of attitude towards the werewolves, so he supposed he should be grateful to her. He just hoped that she didn't suddenly decide to switch sides.

Two sets of tables and chairs had been set out in the middle of the room for himself and Morrigan, and for Amos and his lawyer, Lamont Whitby. Whitby was a Hufflepuff alumni and the uncle of the current Hufflepuff Chaser, Kevin Whitby--which created a certain degree of tension in Lukas's classes at times. His students mostly liked him, but they also felt the need to be loyal to their House and to their families. And if Kevin looked a little uncomfortable at times, Tristan was downright miserable.

In front of the tables was a chair whose arms were covered with chains. Lukas raised his eyebrows slightly and Morrigan quietly explained, "In a criminal case, the defendant is bound to the chair. But this is a civil case, so the chains won't be used."

"How reassuring," Lukas said sarcastically.

Morrigan was about to say something else, but the crowd subsided, and Madam Bones called court into session. She was presiding over the case, as Morrigan had predicted. Percy Weasley was serving as court scribe, looking very earnest and determined. A number of Ministry officials and wizards from old and powerful families (and a few who had power in their own right) made up the rest of the Wizengamot. Dumbledore was not among them, but in one of the upper rows, Lukas spotted a wizard with a long gray beard. Mathias Donner smiled and inclined his head slightly, and Lukas felt a little better, knowing that he had at least one supporter--along with Arthur Weasley--in the group.

Reading from a sheet of parchment in front of her, Madam Bones said, "Plaintiff Cyril Diggory challenges Amos Diggory for ownership and control of the Diggory estate--"

"Objection!" Whitby cried. "We have not yet established that the plaintiff is indeed Cyril Diggory. That is what he claims, but he has been going by the name Lukas Bleddri, and that is the name under which he was hired to teach at Hogwarts."

"Then the first order of business should be to establish Master Bleddri's identity," Bones said calmly. "Or Master Diggory, as the case might be."

"If it please the court, I have a number of witnesses who are prepared to identify the plaintiff as Cyril Diggory," Morrigan said.

"Then call them forth," Bones ordered.

The first witness was Gwendolyn Ames-Diggory, who took a seat in the chain-covered chair. She gave the chains a nervous look, but spoke in a clear and steady voice when Morrigan questioned her, firmly declaring that Lukas was her nephew.

"But you haven't seen your nephew for twenty-five years," Whitby said skeptically. "How can you be sure this is really him?"

"I would know my own flesh and blood anywhere!" Gwendolyn insisted. "He is my nephew Cyril. And besides, he knew details about our lives that a stranger would not--that my childhood nickname was Gwennie, and that I used to make him call me 'aunt' even though he was a year older than me."

"But those are hardly state secrets," Whitby said. "Surely a few other people were aware of those details."

"Just my family," Gwendolyn said.

"And perhaps a few friends?" Whitby suggested. "Are you sure that you never discussed such things with some of your playmates?"

"Well...just a few," Gwendolyn admitted.

"Who might in turn have spoken of it to a few friends of their own--in which case, it would hardly be a secret," Whitby said. Gwendolyn glared at him, and Madam Bones dismissed her. She passed by her brother, neither of them looking at each other, and took a seat in the audience.

The second witness was Selima Snape. "Lady Snape," Morrigan said, "did you immediately recognize the plaintiff as Cyril Diggory when you first saw him in person?"

"I did," Selima replied firmly. "He is the spitting image of his father, who was a good friend of mine."

Morrigan stepped back and let Lamont Whitby cross-examine Selima. "Lady Snape," he said in a condescending tone, "when was the last time you saw Cyril Diggory? Prior to his miraculous resurrection, I mean."

Without batting an eye, Selima replied, "The last time I saw him was when he was ten years old, when I went to visit his parents at their residence."

"And yet you can recognize him, more than a quarter of a century later?" Whitby asked sarcastically.

"Indeed I can," Selima replied coldly. "You see, Cyril resembles his father very strongly, except for his eyes. Cynric's were brown, while Cyril's were an odd shade of yellowish-green--the exact same shade as Master Bleddri's eyes. Quite a coincidence, don't you think?"

"I will ask the questions, Lady Snape!" Whitby snapped. "It could indeed be a coincidence, or Master Bleddri could have altered his appearance with magic."

"He could have," Selima replied calmly, "but there is the matter of the torc."

"The torc?" Whitby asked, startled.

"If I might see it?" Selima asked.

"I don't see the point of this," Whitby complained.

"The torc was a gift from Anya Diggory to her husband," Selima said.

"Let her examine the torc," Bones declared.

Lukas reluctantly slipped the torc off his neck and handed it to Whitby, who gave it to Selima. "Yes, I recognize this," she said. "Anya designed it herself and had it commissioned as a wedding gift for her new husband. The double-headed snake design is quite distinctive; it was meant to symbolize a union between two Slytherins."

"You saw and handled the torc personally, Lady Snape?" Bones asked.

"Yes," Selima replied. "Anya showed it to me when it was done, before she gave it to Cynric. I also saw Cynric wear it on numerous occasions."

"And you are certain that this is the same torc?" Bones asked.

"Absolutely certain," Selima said.

Bones nodded, looking satisfied. "Have you any further questions for Lady Snape, Mr. Whitby?" she asked.

"Just one," he said, giving Selima a spiteful look. "Master Bleddri is a friend of your son's werewolf lover." The audience gasped. Everyone knew it was true, of course, but such things were rarely discussed openly in public. "Perhaps you are supporting Master Bleddri's claim as a favor to your son."

Selima gave him a look that could have frozen water, if any had been present in the room. "I am well aware that my son's personal life has become a scandal in the wizarding world, and it would hardly be in my family's best interest to draw more attention to it. I am supporting Master DIGGORY'S claim because he is the rightful Lord of the Diggory family--nothing more, nothing less."

Looking very annoyed, Whitby dismissed Selima, who returned the torc to Lukas on her way out. Morrigan smiled, looking very pleased. "I knew I wouldn't have to question her too closely, that Whitby would do my work for me," she whispered to Lukas.

"Give him enough rope to hang himself with?" Lukas asked with an amused smile.

The next witness was Albus Dumbledore. "You met the plaintiff when he was calling himself Lukas Bleddri, is that correct?" Morrigan asked.

"That is the name he was calling himself by, yes," Dumbledore agreed pleasantly.

"But you did not think that was his real name?"

"No, I did not," Dumbledore replied. "Lukas--or Cyril, if you prefer--bears a most uncanny resemblance to his father."

"And you knew Cynric Diggory well?"

"I taught him Transfiguration at Hogwarts for seven years."

"But you did not tell the plaintiff that you recognized him--at least, not right away."

"He clearly did not want to be known as a Diggory," Dumbledore explained. "And as I did not know him very well at the time, I did not think that he would care to discuss his personal life with a stranger. But I knew that a Diggory would be attending Hogwarts this school year, and I knew that if Lukas taught there, he would eventually come into contact with his family again. I hoped that he might make peace with them, or at least come to some sort of resolution about whatever had caused him to become estranged from them."

"So you hired the plaintiff precisely because he was Cynric Diggory's son!" Morrigan said triumphantly.

"Well that, and the fact that I believed he would make a good teacher," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile.

"You assumed Master Bleddri was Cynric Diggory's son simply because he looks like him," Whitby said, when it was his turn to question the witness, immediately going on the offensive. "But he could have disguised himself with a spell or a Polyjuice Potion! After all--you've been fooled before, haven't you, Professor Dumbledore? You thought for nearly a year that Barty Crouch, Junior was Alastor Moody!"

"That is correct," Dumbledore said, not looking perturbed in the slightest. "But there is an easy way of finding out whether or not Master Bleddri is disguising himself with magic. This chair detects any sort of magic or enchantment on anyone who sits in it."

Lukas gave Morrigan a startled look. "Sorry," she apologized. "I tried to tell you, but I didn't get a chance."

"Then let the plaintiff come forth and be questioned," Bones said. "Please remove any wands or other magical devices from your person beforehand."

Lukas gave Morrigan his wand and started forward, then suddenly remembered that he had another magical item on him, and paused to remove one of his earrings. "We haven't got all day!" Whitby said impatiently. Lukas repressed the urge to growl at him, and settled for giving him an icy look, trying to imitate Lady Selima's cold stare. It must have worked, because the lawyer fell silent and nervously backed off a few paces. Lukas gingerly took a seat in the chair, and the chains rustled slightly, making a soft clinking noise, but did not reach up to bind him.

Madam Bones uttered a curt command word, but nothing happened. Even the chains lay quiescent. "It seems that the plaintiff is not using any sort of magic to disguise himself," she said. "Master Bleddri, are you indeed Cyril Diggory, son of Cynric Diggory?"

"I am," he replied.

"May I ask why you chose to call yourself by a different name for so many years?" Bones asked.

"I believed that my life was in danger," Lukas replied.

Whitby started to object, but Bones motioned for him to be silent. "You will have an opportunity to question the plaintiff on that point later, Mr. Whitby. For now, all I am interested in is hearing his explanation for his alias."

"I believed that my life was in danger," Lukas repeated, "so I changed my name, to make it harder for my relatives to find me. 'Lukas' is my middle name--I wanted to keep part of the name that my parents gave me. And I chose 'Bleddri' for my surname because it means 'leader of outlaws' or 'king of wolves' in Welsh." He smiled bitterly. "Just a touch of private humor. I didn't think that most people would know what it meant."

"Anya Diggory was Welsh," Bones said in a musing tone.

"Yes, she was," Lukas quickly agreed. "I don't speak it fluently, but she taught me some of the language. I had little to do but study, since I was confined to the house as a child. And I did live in Wales for three years--after my alleged death."

"I think we have enough evidence to decide on the plaintiff's identity," Bones said. "All those in favor of acknowledging Lukas Bleddri as Cyril Diggory?" Arthur Weasley immediately raised his hand, as did Mathias Donner and Madam Bones herself. Others began raising their hands, a little more slowly and hesitantly, but eventually a little more than half of the Wizengamot members raised their hands. "All those against?" Bones asked, but it was a mere formality. "Very well," Bones said. "The plaintiff shall henceforth be known as Cyril Lukas Gravenor Diggory, son of Cynric and Anya Diggory."

Lukas felt a sudden sense of joy and satisfaction. The trial was far from over, but if nothing else, he had the name his father and mother had given him back. He was Cynric Diggory's son, and the wizarding world had just acknowledged it.

"Then court shall adjourn, and we shall reconvene...when, Mr. Weasley?" Bones turned and looked expectantly at Percy Weasley.

Percy shuffled through some papers and announced, "Next Wednesday at 10 am."

"Next Wednesday at 10 am," Bones repeated and rapped her gavel on the desk again. The Wizengamot and audience members began filing out of the courtroom.

Lukas rose from his seat and walked over to join Morrigan. "That's it?" he asked. "All that happened today was that they agreed I was who I say I am. If we only meet once a week, it could take months to resolve this!"

"I'm afraid that's the general idea," Morrigan told him dryly.

Lamont Whitby overheard them and sneered at Lukas. "Clearly you have no idea how things work in the wizarding world," he said scornfully. "The court has other cases to tend to besides yours, Bleddri."

"That's 'Master Diggory' to you, Lamont," Morrigan retorted. She gave Lukas his wand and earring back, and whispered, "Come, I'll explain it to you on the way out."

"Do you have a statement, Master Diggory?" Rita Skeeter asked as they passed by her.

Lukas opened his mouth to say "no," but Morrigan said smoothly, "Of course we are very pleased that the Wizengamot has acknowledged my client's true identity as the son of Cynric Diggory, the late Diggory heir. We are confident that the court will eventually restore his rightful inheritance to him."

"Very confident," Lukas said, following her lead. Then he blinked as a flashbulb went off in his face, as a photographer from the Daily Prophet took his picture. Morrigan took him by the arm and quickly steered him out of the courtroom.

"I hate reporters," Lukas growled softly.

"Yes, but it doesn't do any good to antagonize the media," Morrigan said practically. "Besides, Skeeter wrote favorable articles about you and the other werewolves. How did you manage to get her to do that?"

"I had nothing to do with it," Lukas replied. "Harry Potter and his friends seem to have some influence over her."

"How intriguing," Morrigan laughed.

"About the case..."

"Oh yes," Morrigan said. "If this were a more urgent case, for example, the trial of an alleged Death Eater, court would convene every day until a verdict was reached. But this is merely a civil case, a contested inheritance, so they don't feel the urge to move as quickly. Amos Diggory's allies are deliberately dragging things out, I think. I did tell the powers that be that we would like to resolve this as soon as possible, but Lamont was spouting some sort of rubbish about how it would adversely affect Amos's duties at the Ministry, not to mention disrupt your classes if you both had to miss work every day for what could be weeks."

Lukas snorted. "Amos and his lawyer don't give a damn about whether I'm inconvenienced or not."

"That's why I said it's rubbish," Morrigan said. "But I think it's a good sign; it means that they're scared of us, and that means we have a good chance of winning. So cheer up, Lukas--or should I say Cyril? It really was a major victory for us today, you know. By acknowledging that you are Cyril Diggory, they are also acknowledging that you are Cynric Diggory's son and heir. The oldest son has legal precedence as heir, so technically, the law is on our side, and Lamont and Amos will have to prove that you are unfit to take the title."

"It might not be that difficult," Lukas said, "considering that I am a werewolf."

"I am up for the challenge if you are," Morrigan said with a confident smile.

"Well, you've already proven that you can outsmart my uncle's lawyer," Lukas laughed, "so I will put my trust in you."

"Well, I'm heading back to the office," Morrigan said. "Are you going back to the school?"

"Dumbledore gave me the day off," Lukas said. "I think I'll take a walk and collect my thoughts before I go back."

"Good day, then, Master Diggory."

"Good day, Ms. De Lacy."
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Narcissa Malfoy had gone shopping in Diagon Alley. She didn't like the way people stared at her and whispered behind her back when she went out in public, but she was tired of sitting around the house all day. She could have gone to visit Aileen Pierce, but it wasn't fair to impose on her friend every day. Besides, she told herself, she wanted to buy a new dress to wear to Draco's Quidditch match next week. It was pure coincidence that she happened to stroll near Ministry Headquarters after she was done shopping on the day of Lukas Bleddri's trial. At least, that was what she told herself.

She lingered near the Ministry, wearing a black cloak with the hood pulled over her head to disguise herself, because she didn't want people staring and pointing at the woman who had killed her Death Eater husband. And also because she didn't want Lukas Bleddri to think that she had come to see him--because she hadn't. In fact, she was just about to move on when people started trickling out of the Ministry building in twos and threes--court must have just let out. So she lingered a little longer, and saw Bleddri come out and walk down the street, talking and laughing with a very pretty, elegant woman with reddish-blonde hair. She felt a sudden, sharp stab of jealousy, then saw the woman's face and realized that she was Bleddri's lawyer, Morrigan De Lacy. Then Narcissa got quite angry with herself; what did it matter to her if the werewolf had a girlfriend or not? She quickly turned and walked away, her face turning red beneath the hood of her cloak.

She was not paying attention to where she was going, and accidentally bumped into a man who snapped, "Watch where you're going!" Keeping her head down, Narcissa muttered an apology and hurried away. She paused in front of a bakery about a block later, pretending to peruse the pastries in the window while she tried to regain her composure.

"Narcissa?" a startled voice said, and Lukas Bleddri's reflection suddenly appeared in the shop window. She turned around to find the werewolf standing behind her. "What are you doing here?"

"Shopping," Narcissa said coolly, holding up a bag from Madam Malkin's, as if offering proof that her words were true. "And you?"

"I just came from court," Bleddri said with a wry smile, as if he knew that she knew perfectly well what he was doing here.

"Ah yes," Narcissa said. "And how is the trial going?"

Bleddri shrugged. "Well enough."

And with that, they ran out of polite things to say to each other, and stood there in awkward silence. It was early afternoon, when many people had just finished lunch and were hurrying back to work, and one pedestrian who seemed to be in an especial hurry jostled Bleddri. He automatically moved forward, which brought him closer to Narcissa, mere inches away from her. Even though he wasn't touching her, she could feel his presence, an almost tangible aura that made her breath quicken and her face flush--actually, her entire body felt warm. She seemed to be having the same effect on Bleddri, judging by his ragged breathing and the feral, hungry look in his yellow-green eyes. It made him look more like a wolf than ever, which was frightening, and yet strangely exciting at the same time.

Conflicting emotions flickered across his face, as he seemed to be going through some sort of internal struggle, then abruptly, he seemed to reach a decision and leaned even closer to Narcissa. She shrank back a little as he whispered in her ear, "Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron in fifteen minutes."

A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine, but Narcissa hissed, "We can't be seen in public together!" She hastily pulled her hood down over her face a little more securely. "And certainly not going into a room at an inn together!"

"We won't go in together," Bleddri growled. "I'll go first, and rent a room upstairs; you follow a little later. Even if someone sees us, no one needs to know that it's you." He tugged gently on the hood of her cloak. "Keep your face covered, or use a glamor to disguise yourself--you are a witch, after all."

"This is insane!" Narcissa protested.

"Of course it is," Bleddri said calmly. "Meet me there, or not--it's your decision." Then he turned and walked down the street without another word.

{What an arrogant, insufferable man!} Narcissa fumed to herself. Of course she wouldn't go; it would be madness to indulge in a fling with a werewolf!

Yet, somehow she found herself entering the Leaky Cauldron fifteen minutes later, quietly slipping through the dining room and up the stairs, her face covered with the hood and a small glamor cast to disguise her features for good measure. Just as she was wondering how she was supposed to know which room he was in, one of the doors opened and Bleddri leaned out and beckoned to her.

As the door closed behind her, Narcissa dispelled the glamor and asked, "How could you be sure it was me?"

The werewolf rolled his eyes in a most annoying fashion. "I didn't think there would be that many women in black cloaks roaming the hall at our appointed meeting time. Besides, the perfume you wear is very distinctive."

Of course; a werewolf would have a keen nose. Narcissa pushed her hood back and looked around. In one corner of the room there was a bed; she quickly blushed and looked away, spotting a table laid out with food and wine.

Bleddri followed her gaze and shrugged. "I didn't want to say I was meeting a woman, so I told them I wanted to have a meal in a private room." He smiled sardonically. "A Lord shouldn't eat with the riffraff in the common room, right? Besides, I figured that if you stood me up, I could at least have lunch." He moved closer to Narcissa, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. "Are you hungry?"

"Not for food," she heard herself say, and the werewolf pulled her into his arms and sealed his mouth over hers, and neither of them said anything--at least, not anything coherent--for quite some time.

It was the best sex she had ever had in her life, and her late husband had been no slouch in that department, either. Lucius was arrogant and self-centered, like most pureblood Lords, but he was a proud man, and he prided himself on having a reputation as a good lover, so he had always made sure to give her pleasure in bed. She had certainly never had any reason to complain about his performance, but the difference between the two men was like night and day. Bleddri might have lacked some of Lucius's finesse, but there was a raw passion, an urgency to his lovemaking that was unlike Lucius's more polished but methodical and almost calculated technique.

"Lovemaking" was probably the wrong term for what they were doing; it was simply sex, the two of them driven by some primal need, coupling like two animals in heat. Bleddri's hands weren't smooth and soft like Lucius's, but rough and slightly calloused (from physical labor, presumably), like the pads of a dog's--or wolf's--paws. It should have disgusted her, but it excited her instead. Her skin suddenly felt incredibly sensitive, and the sensation of his roughened hands running along it evoked an exquisite sensation that was like pleasure bordering on pain.

She locked her legs around his waist as he thrust into her, hard and fast, with no gentleness, but she didn't want any. He growled softly into her ear--like a wolf, like an animal. She raked her nails down his back, and he thrust into her even harder as she frantically raised her hips to meet each thrust, and then she screamed his name out loud as waves of pleasure washed over her body. He threw back his head and howled--dear God, like a wolf!--as he came, and a small part of her was horrified, but the rest of her was too caught up in her own pleasure to care.

The rolled apart and lay next to each other, panting and gasping for breath. Bleddri flung one arm out carelessly across her body, as if by accident. After a few minutes, Narcissa caught her breath and returned to her senses, and pushed Bleddri's arm away.

"This is insane!" she said.

"Yes," Bleddri agreed, but he didn't sound very upset about it; he looked lazy and sated, like an animal that had just devoured a large meal.

That mental analogy made Narcissa blush, and his reaction irritated her. "Why aren't you more upset about it, then?" she demanded. "You hate me and I hate you, so what in Merlin's name are we doing?"

"I have no idea," Bleddri said, stretching languidly and unselfconsciously, looking more like a cat at the moment than a wolf, the image enhanced by his golden mane of hair, which was falling loose across his face and shoulders. Narcissa could not help but notice that his body was lean but strong, the muscles rippling beneath the skin as he moved, and that there were no scars on his skin, just the scratches she had made on his back. She had clawed him hard enough to draw blood, but the weals were already fading to thin, pink lines--the werewolf's healing powers in action. Bleddri caught her watching him and smiled, looking amused and just a little smug. Narcissa flushed angrily, then climbed out of bed and began to get dressed.

Bleddri remained stretched out on the bed, watching her. She turned her back to him to avoid that amused gaze. "I am used to following my instincts, even when they don't make sense at the time," Bleddri said, and it took Narcissa a moment to realize that he was answering the question she had just asked.

"Like a beast," Narcissa said curtly.

"Like a wolf," Bleddri agreed. "But you are not a beast, so what is your excuse, Narcissa?"

Narcissa's face turned red again. "I plead temporary insanity," she snapped. "You can be sure that it won't happen again!"

"Of course not," Bleddri agreed pleasantly. Narcissa finished dressing, grabbed her shopping bag, and threw on her cloak, pulling the hood down over her face. As she turned to leave, the werewolf called out, "I'll be in court again next Wednesday. I'll reserve this same room."

Narcissa turned back to glare at him. "I hope you're capable of entertaining yourself, werewolf, because I won't be here."

"Well, just in case you happen to be in the neighborhood," Lukas said casually.

Narcissa stalked out of the room, and as she slammed the door behind her, she thought she heard the werewolf laughing.
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"This really is insane," Lukas told himself, but his inner wolf didn't seem to care. It was the wolf who had wanted Narcissa, who had insisted that it must have her NOW, overriding the man's common sense. It was the wolf who had been certain that Narcissa would come to meet him, despite her protestations. And now that the wolf had gotten what it wanted, it was feeling very sated and happy.

Lukas had to admit that the sex had been better than any he'd had since...well, a long time. The scratches on his back still stung a little, and he grinned; who would've expected a cold, proper pureblood lady like Narcissa Malfoy to be such a little spitfire in bed? He wondered if she'd ever clawed Lucius Malfoy's back, but rather doubted it; people like Malfoy were usually better at giving pain than receiving it. Maybe the thrill of the forbidden, of bedding a werewolf, had brought out the beast in Narcissa.

"She's just slumming," he told himself scornfully. He wondered what was wrong with himself, that he would want to bed a jaded pureblood woman who despised him. Maybe the forbidden appealed to him, too. "It's just sex," he tried to reassure himself. "A purely physical attraction." No doubt the thrill would eventually wear off, along with the novelty. In the meantime, he supposed he might as well enjoy it. And he did enjoy annoying Narcissa, almost as much as he did the sex; she was so easy to bait.

Still, it was a complication that he didn't really need right now. The wolf had become an intrinsic part of him, and he had grown accustomed to following its instincts without question. There were times, though, when the wolf's instincts were inconvenient, to say the least. "I hope you're happy," Lukas muttered sourly, but the wolf just growled contentedly in response.
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"Hello, Lukas," Lupin said cheerfully when Lukas returned to school. "Albus said that the trial seems to be going well."

"I suppose so," Lukas said, a little doubtfully. "It took the Wizengamot half the day to decide that I really am Cyril Diggory."

"That's a major step," Snape informed him. "For them to admit that you are Cynric Diggory's son is halfway to admitting that you are the rightful head of the Diggory family."

"That's what Morrigan said," Lukas conceded. "I suppose I should thank you, Severus. Your mother was very helpful today--she made Amos's lawyer look like a fool."

Snape looked uncomfortable--not simply annoyed at his mother, as he often was, but almost guilty. "No need to thank me," he mumbled. "My mother did it on her own; she is the one you should thank."

Lupin smiled at Snape, looking affectionate, but a little concerned at the same time. There must be something complicated going on within the Snape family, but Lukas decided that he didn't really want to know about it--he had enough problems of his own, after all, including one named Narcissa Malfoy.

"You'll call on us when you need us to testify?" Lupin asked.

Lukas nodded. "Yes, I'll have to talk to Morrigan about what she has planned. I'll try to let you know in advance so you can reschedule your classes, but it won't be for at least another week. It seems that they're trying to drag out this trial as long as possible."

"Interesting," Snape mused. "Amos must be afraid of losing, which is rather surprising, since most of the purebloods would tend to side with him against a werewolf."

"But the law says that werewolves have equal rights under the law--a law recently passed by the new Minister of Magic," Lupin argued. "If they want to rule that Lukas is unfit to inherit the title, then they'll have to find another excuse besides his lycanthropy to do it."

"So perhaps they're using the time to try and dig up some dirt on me," Lukas said with a bitter smile.

"Yes, but it's a double-edged sword," Snape pointed out. "It also gives you time to build up support in the wizarding world. You do have powerful friends and allies--the Minister of Magic and Dumbledore--and it wouldn't hurt to remind people of that."

"Not to mention the Snape family," Lupin said with a smile. Snape just grunted, looking a little embarrassed. "And Sirius and Branwen support your claim as well."

Lukas nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I suppose you're right. I suspect that I'll also be getting a good deal of publicity, although I'm not sure whether it will be helpful or not. Rita Skeeter was at the trial today; I hope she hasn't changed her attitude towards werewolves."

"Oh, I don't think so," Lupin said cheerfully. "She hasn't written anything truly slanderous for over a year, so Hermione must still be blackmailing her."

"I still wonder what she has over Skeeter," Snape muttered to himself.

Lukas shrugged. "Whatever it is, I'm grateful for it. She could sell just as many, if not more, papers writing articles about how the public needs to be protected from bloodthirsty werewolves. Well, I'll see the two of you at dinner, then. I should get caught up on my lesson plans for tomorrow."

"By the way, Lukas," Lupin said casually, "Albus came back two hours ago; I thought you'd be back soon after that. Were you consulting with Morrigan?"

"Dumbledore said I could have the entire day off," Lukas said defensively.

"Oh, of course," Lupin said in a placating voice. "I was just curious. I know you were concerned about missing classes while the trial was taking place, even though Albus said to take as much time off as you need."

Lukas flushed a little. "I had lunch and took some time to calm down. It's bad enough being grilled by a lawyer in front of the Wizengamot, not to mention the general public, but they make you sit in this chair that has chains on it, like you're a criminal--"

Snape looked up, startled. "Chains? They used Courtroom Ten? That's the same place the original Death Eater trials were held! Unusual, for a civil case..."

"I didn't know that," Lukas said, "but I'm not surprised. Morrigan said it was an intimidation tactic. Anyway, I do need to work on those lesson plans. See you later."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Hmm," Lupin said, watching curiously as the other werewolf hastily departed. "Lukas seemed a bit flustered."

"He's going through a nasty trial where his own uncle is trying to portray him as a beast that's unfit to run the family estate," Snape said. "It might be more surprising if he wasn't flustered."

"Maybe," Lupin said, not sounding convinced. "But I think there's more to it than that. He usually gets angry when he talks about Amos, not flustered."

"Weren't you the one who told me not to meddle in Bleddri's life, Lupin?" Snape asked sarcastically.

Lupin grinned sheepishly. "I guess you're right, Severus."

"Besides," Snape continued, "I would have thought that you'd more than have your hands full meddling in my life, and the boys', and my mother's..."

"You're right, Sev," Lupin chuckled good-naturedly. Then he leaned over and whispered in a throaty voice, "And I can think of something else I would like to have my hands full of right now..."

"The full moon's over, Lupin," Snape said, flushing, but he quickly followed the werewolf back to their quarters without further objection.
 

Chapter 99