Phoenix Rising 2 Conclusion

Lupin did not find a piece of jewelry for Miyako, but he did find a very nice little porcelain figurine of a fox that had a very lifelike, mischievous gleam in its dark eyes. So Sirius dutifully packed up Miyako's gift, along with a big box of candy for Professor Kamiyama, as well as the books and CDs Lupin had loaned him. He hugged Tonks and promised to bring back souvenirs for her and Hob, and she promised to keep up his agreement with the little household spirit, and leave Hob's gift beside the fire every night.

He Apparated to the restaurant, and the hostess, Haruko, led him to the Portkey. As he followed her, he noted how pretty she was and how gracefully she moved, and idly thought to himself that maybe he should stop by to have a meal sometime. He shuddered a little, thinking of how Tonks had proposed pairing him up with Branwen, and wondered where she had gotten such a ridiculous idea from. It was absolutely ludicrous; he did not think of Branwen that way, and besides, she would probably laugh in his face if he ever tried to ask her out on a date.

"Here is the Portkey," Haruko said, and Sirius sternly reminded himself to keep his mind on business. As he had told Tonks, this was war, and there was no time for romance.

He touched the painting that was the Portkey, and found himself in Japan a moment later. As he trudged up the long, winding path that led to the temple, he found himself panting and sweating a little, and had to cast a spell on his bags to make them lighter. {I'm a little out of shape,} he thought to himself, chagrined. Well, that was what came of being confined to the house for a year, but he resolved to get back in shape; he had once been a star athlete, after all.

Professor Kamiyama greeted him at the top of the hill; the old man looked quite fit despite his gray hair and wrinkles--and no wonder, if he regularly hiked up and down the mountain paths. "You must be Mr. Black," Kamiyama said cheerfully. "I'm very pleased to meet you." Sirius bowed and haltingly rattled off the polite greeting Snape had taught him. The old priest looked pleased and surprised. "I was told you did not speak Japanese."

"I don't," Sirius replied. "But Remus and Snape--er, Professor Snape--taught me a few polite phrases."

"Yes, Remus is quite adept with languages," Kamiyama said as he led Sirius to the house. "I was sorry to lose his services as a translator, but I'm glad that he got his old job back. I know how much he enjoys teaching." His dark eyes twinkled mischievously. "And of course, he and Severus must be happy to be back together again. I'm sure it was difficult for them to live apart for so long." He chuckled a little as Sirius's jaw dropped open.

So Kamiyama knew that the pair were lovers; Remus had failed to mention that little detail. What's more, the old man clearly approved. Sirius thought to himself darkly that sometimes it seemed like the entire world was rooting for those two: old Dumbledore playing matchmaker by bringing Moony back to the school three years ago, no doubt hoping that he and Snape would patch up their differences; Branwen looking infuriatingly smug and pleased with herself every time she caught sight of the pair getting all lovey-dovey with each other; Hermione and Ginny, who seemed to find it all very romantic, acting silly and giggling together about it; and now it appeared that Professor Kamiyama had joined the Snape-Lupin fan club as well.

Sirius followed Kamiyama into the house, remembering to leave his shoes at the door without being asked. Kamiyama's daughter and granddaughter greeted him politely and served him tea. Tsuneko was a handsome woman with fox-red hair, and Miyako was a solemn-faced girl about Harry's age. Seeing her reminded Sirius about the gifts he had brought, and presented the box of candy to his host with the this-is-just-a-small-token-of-my-appreciation speech Snape had made him memorize.

"Thank you very much!" Kamiyama said, beaming at him happily. "How kind of you!" He opened the box and added, "Ah, I see you included my favorite, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."

Tsuneko sighed and said, "Please don't spoil your appetite, Father. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Don't lecture your aged father, cub," Kamiyama said good-naturedly and popped a bean in his mouth. "Hmm," he said, chewing thoughtfully, "I've never tasted this one before. Liver, perhaps?"

Miyako shuddered a little, and Sirius had to repress a laugh. "And this is for you," he said, handing her the small box Lupin had given him. "A gift from Professors Lupin and Snape, to thank you for warning them about your vision of the roses."

"Thank you," she said. "I hope that it was helpful." She opened the box and took out the porcelain fox. "Oh, it's beautiful!"

Sirius smiled. "Remus will be pleased that you like it."

"I do like it, very much! I will have to write Lupin-sensei and Snape-sensei a thank-you letter."

They spoke only of inconsequential matters at dinner that night; Kamiyama said he wanted to give Sirius a chance to rest and get settled in before discussing business. Sirius would have preferred to get right down to business, but followed his host's lead and held his impatience in check. He knew that Snape, and even Remus, doubted his ability to pull off this mission, and there was no way he was going to go home in disgrace and let Snape say, "I told you so!"

They made small talk about the school where Tsuneko worked and where Kamiyama, though officially retired from teaching, still taught a few classes every now and then. And the Kamiyamas inquired as to how Lupin and Snape were doing; to Sirius's surprise, the family seemed quite fond of both of the men.

"Remus is doing very well," he replied. "He's teaching his students defensive magic, including the Patronus Charm. A bit advanced for their level, but they're doing surprisingly well. My godson tells me that Remus is quite popular with the students, despite the fact that his lycanthropy was made public." {Thanks to Snape,} he added bitterly, but only to himself.

"A most encouraging sign," Kamiyama said with a smile. "Perhaps the younger generation, being more flexible, will be able to overcome their parents' prejudices."

"And how is Snape-sensei?" Miyako asked.

"Um, the same as always, I suppose," Sirius said a little awkwardly. "Still teaching Potions." {And terrorizing his students,} he added silently.

"We're so grateful to Professor Snape," Tsuneko said, "for helping my father with the Wolfsbane Potion."

"I would never have been able to develop it without his help," Kamiyama said, and he and his daughter both gazed fondly at Miyako.

Of course; no wonder they were so grateful to Snape. Sirius had almost forgotten that Miyako was a werewolf herself--or half-werewolf, at least. It was a little odd to be around people who knew only the good side of Snape and regarded him as a hero. He took a bite of his dinner, or tried to--he was having trouble with the chopsticks, and kept dropping his food back into the bowl.

Miyako smiled at him kindly and said, "Here, try holding them like this, Black-san. You keep the bottom chopstick steady between your thumb and middle finger, and move only the top chopstick--like so."

"Ah, thanks, that helps," Sirius said gratefully. "And please call me Sirius; no one calls me 'Mr. Black' at home. Er--if that's not a breach of custom or anything."

"In a formal meeting with the council, it might be," Kamiyama said, "but here, you are among friends. So we will call you Sirius, but you must call us by our names as well."

"Ah, thank you, Naoto," Sirius said, a little surprised by the declaration of friendship from a man he had just met.

The priest seemed to read his mind. "Any friend of Remus's and Severus's is a friend of ours," he said cheerfully.

Sirius flushed and turned his attention back to his dinner. Snape was not his friend, but he couldn't think of a way to contradict that statement without being rude or making himself look bad.

Since Sirius was staring down at his food, he didn't notice the three kitsune exchange amused and mischievous glances.
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They finally got around to discussing business the following morning. "You know that my people are reluctant to get involved in a war, Sirius," Kamiyama said gravely, "but our diviners and seers--including my own granddaughter--have read the signs, and they tell us that your Lord Voldemort is a threat to us all."

"He's not 'our' Lord Voldemort," Sirius said, a little pointedly. "While his attention is focused on Britain for the moment, he will not be content until the entire world is under his sway--"

"I know that, Sirius," Kamiyama interrupted, but he did not look offended. "But it is difficult for us; our country was decimated during World War II--it affected all of us, not just the ippanjin, what you call Muggles. The Japanese constitution allows the military to act only in self-defense. We wizards are not necessarily bound by ippanjin rules, but still, we cannot enter into a war lightly."

"I understand that," Sirius said, fighting to keep his voice calm and patient. "We aren't asking you to do this lightly."

"I know," Kamiyama replied. "As I said, my people now believe in the threat. The problem is, I'm not sure what kind of help we can offer. Our numbers are limited, and not many of us specialize in combative magics. Another problem is that for some us, particularly those of us descended from non-human ancestors, our power is tied to the land. For example, a witch descended from a river spirit will have considerably weakened powers away from her home village and the river of her ancestors. We kitsune are more mobile, of course, but as a priest, part of my powers are granted to me by my god, Inari, and my power is strongest here, in my homeland and near my temple."

"But surely there must be something you can do," Sirius said in frustration. "Believe me, you don't want Voldemort setting foot in your homeland, no matter how strong your powers might be here! And if he conquers Britain and Europe, he will be all the more powerful when he finally reaches Asia!"

"I know that," Kamiyama said gravely. "Here are the strengths of my people: Divination, protective magics, healing magics, and illusion. We kitsune have long used illusion and trickery to beguile and mislead our enemies. But where is the enemy? Voldemort and the Death Eaters, as I understand it, are in hiding. The tengu are the warriors of we magical folk, and some of them have indicated that they are willing to fight--but you have no battlefield to send them to. So you see, Sirius, it is not so simple as fighting or not fighting."

Sirius slowly nodded. "I see what you mean. You have clearly given this a lot of thought, Naoto. What do you suggest?"

"There are things we can do," Kamiyama replied. "We can brew healing potions and salves, for no doubt you will need them when the war begins to escalate. And we can also send you healers when that happens. If I may lay aside modesty for the moment, I would say that my people are unparalleled in the field of protective magics." He held up one of the little omamori good-luck charms the temple sold: a prayer inscribed on a slip of paper, tucked into a decorative brocade bag. "These are simply for the tourists; they have no real magic, save the faith of the people who buy them--which can work an odd sort of magic all its own, but that is beside the point. I and my fellow priests and mages can make real, far more powerful charms of protection for your people, and I can send mages to help put wards of protection on places that you feel are vulnerable. I will have our seers continue to perform their rituals, and keep you informed of what they See. And--I will send those of my people willing to fight when the time comes, but you must go to Dumbledore and the Order and ask them to consider the best and most efficient way they can put our resources to work."

"I will do that," Sirius said, all his anger and impatience gone. "Thank you. I'm sorry if I seemed a bit curt earlier. You're right; even if you sent us an army, we wouldn't know what to do with it. The Death Eaters strike in stealth, and then flee. And not even Snape can find their headquarters unless Voldemort summons him." Sirius sighed. "It's hard, fighting an enemy that doesn't fight fair. They framed my cousin for the prison break that freed the Death Eaters, you know."

"Yes, I know," Kamiyama said. "The Headmaster wrote and told me about it. I'm very sorry, Sirius. I hope her name will be cleared soon."

"Me too," sighed Sirius.

"I don't blame you for feeling frustrated, Sirius," Kamiyama continued. "I know how much harm Voldemort and the Death Eaters did to your country, and to you and your friends personally. Let us work together to stop them." He held out his hand, and Sirius clasped it.

"Thank you," said Sirius. "I will take your message back to Dumbledore."

"Don't rush off just yet, Sirius," Kamiyama said with a smile. "I have some friends who want to meet you, and besides, surely you can take a little time to relax and pick up some omiyage, some souvenirs, to take back home to your friends."

Sirius wanted to retort that he didn't have time to sight-see, but he didn't want to offend his new ally, and Snape had told him to humor the old priest, who was a bit eccentric. And eccentric or not, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Snape all seemed to trust and respect him, and apparently the Japanese wizards did as well, if they had given him the authority to be their spokesperson and negotiate the type of aid they would provide to the Order. "As you wish," he said a little stiffly. He remembered Snape scoffing at the idea of him being entrusted with a diplomatic mission, and tried for a more pleasant tone, saying, "Of course I would be delighted to meet your friends."

Kamiyama looked amused, so he probably wasn't fooled, but at least he wasn't offended, either. "Miyako would like to speak to you as well." As if on cue, the girl entered the room, carrying a tray of tea and cookies. Sirius accepted a cup of tea and looked at her curiously.

"I have been having dreams," she said. "At first, just dreams of snakes and skulls, a general warning about the Dark Lord. And then, the dreams about the bloody roses."

"Yes," Sirius said grimly, "we've discovered what those dreams meant. The roses are a magical weapon of sorts. Unfortunately, we weren't able to stop Voldemort from getting his hands on it."

"I'm sorry," Miyako said. "The Sight is not often clear."

"Divination rarely is," Sirius said. "But it's not your fault." He had a rather low opinion of Divination in general, but Lupin seemed to think that the girl's gift was real, and she already had a better track record than Professor Trelawney.

"But I've recently had another dream," Miyako said. "A dream of a child, not yet born, who could turn the tide of the war."

"What?" Sirius asked, shocked. "But--that would be Harry, except that's he certainly been born already, and he's almost a man now, not a baby--"

"I don't know what it means," Miyako said helplessly, then in a firmer voice, "but I know the child is not Harry Potter."

Sirius started to protest, feeling a little affronted, though he wasn't sure why; Harry certainly didn't care about being a hero, and being their main hope against Voldemort put him in constant danger. But after all his godson had suffered, being brought up in exile by hateful relatives, being attacked by Voldemort and his minions--had it all been for nothing? After all that, some other child was going to defeat Voldemort and win the war? "But Harry--"

"I know the stories about how Harry Potter survived Voldemort's attack as a baby," Miyako said quietly. "I'm not saying that he won't be the one to defeat the Dark Lord. But this child I dreamed of is somehow important to the war, though I don't know why. She will be in great danger--"

"She?" Sirius asked, startled. "It's a girl?"

"Yes," Miyako said firmly, though she looked a little startled herself, as if this was a new revelation to her. "A girl; I'm sure of it. You must guard her and her mother well. If the Dark Lord learns of their existence, he will slay them."

"I don't suppose you can tell me who the mother is?" Sirius asked, without much hope.

"No," Miyako replied apologetically. "I'm sorry, but that's all I know. I'll meditate and cast for signs, but I am young, and the Sight is difficult to control."

"Even experienced seers cannot make the visions come at their bidding," her grandfather said gently. "That is not how the Sight works. It is a gift, granted by the gods, and the gods rarely make things easy for us, for we would learn nothing if they did."

"Well, I wish they would make things just a little bit clearer," Sirius grumbled, then remembered he was supposed to be behaving diplomatically. "But I'm grateful for the warning. I'll pass it on to Dumbledore, and I guess we'll have to be on the lookout for newborn girl wizards." He grinned ruefully and said, "At least we know it's a girl; that cuts down our search by half!"

Miyako smiled at him, and that seemed to conclude their conference. He spent the rest of the day "relaxing" as Kamiyama suggested. Miyako took him to visit the nearby village, giving him some Japanese yen in exchange for his Galleons, and he tried the local cuisine and bought a few souvenirs for his friends. The locals eyed the oddly dressed stranger curiously, but seemed to take it in stride when they found out he was a guest of the Kamiyamas; apparently they were used to the priest having odd visitors. Everyone was friendly to him, and some of the children tried out the English they were learning in school on him. He returned the favor by trying out his meager knowledge of Japanese on them, and they giggled, but good-naturedly, at his no doubt atrocious accent.

He did feel a little better when he returned to the temple grounds; it had been nice to spend some time with people who didn't know him as a notorious (though falsely-accused) criminal, who didn't look at him with fear in their eyes. Miyako gave him a tour of the temple and the grounds, and Sirius threw a coin in the offering box and offered up a quick prayer. He wasn't a religious man, but he figured he could use all the help he could get. He tried to buy one of the omamori charms (for success in exams) for Harry, but Kamiyama refused to accept his money, and gave it to him as a gift. Miyako smiled--looking surprisingly mischievous for such a quiet, serious girl--and handed him another charm.

"This one is very popular, too," she said.

"What is it?" he asked curiously.

"Safe childbirth," she replied, grinning at his startled expression. "Not for you, of course! For the mother of the child-to-be, when you find her."

"Ah, of course," he said, returning her grin. "I'll hold on to it, till we find her, then." Of course, Kamiyama had already told him that those charms had no real magic, but it cheered him up nonetheless, as if having the charm made it more likely that he would find the mother for whom it was intended.
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Sirius got a big surprise when Kamiyama's friends showed up for dinner; his host did not warn him about his guests' unusual nature, probably on purpose--Lupin had told him that kitsune in general, and Kamiyama in particular, had a mischievous streak. At first they appeared to be more-or-less normal people. Kamiyama introduced them by first names only: Karasu, a fierce-looking young man with a long, beak-like nose and black hair tied in a topknot; Chizuru, a tall, beautiful young woman with fair skin and glossy black hair that fell like a waterfall straight down to her ankles; and Satoshi, a plump, cheerful looking man of indeterminate age. Karasu and Chizuru seemed to be dressed in traditional Japanese garb; Karasu in a short blue kimono, and Chizuru in a long, white silk kimono with black trim on the sleeves and hem. Satoshi, on the other hand, was dressed in western-style Muggle garb, like most of the people Sirius had met in the village.

"Show him your true forms," Kamiyama said, and suddenly before him stood a man with a crow's head and wings; an elegant white crane that had red and black markings on its head, and black-tipped feathers on its wings; and a plump raccoon-like animal. Sirius's jaw dropped, and he gaped at them dumbly as they transformed back into their human forms. Kamiyama smiled at him. "Karasu is a tengu, one of the bird-men, whom the ippanjin call mountain demons. His name, appropriately means 'crow'. Chizuru's name means 'thousand cranes' and obviously, she is a crane maiden. Satoshi is a cousin of sorts, a fellow trickster like the kitsune. He is a tanuki, a raccoon dog and shapeshifter." Satoshi grinned and bowed.

"And your name means 'raccoon'?" Sirius guessed.

"No, it means 'clever,'" Satoshi laughed.

"Tanuki always think they are smarter than everyone else," Karasu muttered.

"Well, we are!" Satoshi said happily. "We live among the humans and they don't even notice!"

"Tanuki are clever," Kamiyama said, looking amused. "They are tricksters like the kitsune, although sometimes they are too clever for their own good, and their tricks backfire on them. Of course, the same can be said of the kitsune, I must admit."

"I see," said Sirius, still feeling a little dazed. "And you wish to help us fight Voldemort?"

"Karasu is the only warrior among us," Chizuru said, "though of course we will do what we can. But Naoto has another purpose in mind for us."

Sirius still looked confused, and Karasu said bluntly, "He wants us to knock some sense into that Ministry of yours. They have a problem with non-humans, I hear."

"He wants us to talk to the Ministry about how the human and non-human wizards live in harmony here in Japan," Satoshi said cheerfully. "Show them what good and productive citizens we are and all that. Hell, half the wizards in Japan are descended from non-humans, anyway! Where else do you think they got their magic powers from?"

That was a slightly disturbing thought; did that mean that the ancestors of the British wizards had been non-humans also? That would surely outrage the stuffed shirts at the Ministry! "You might not want to mention that to them," Sirius suggested.

Satoshi just grinned gleefully, and Karasu complained, "If they're such snobs, why are we bothering to help them?"

"Because there are innocent lives at stake, Karasu," Kamiyama replied sternly.

"Not everyone thinks the way the Ministry does," Sirius hastened to assure the tengu. "The problem is, they're the ones that hold the power in my country."

"Politicians," Karasu said in a disgusted tone of voice.

"They exist everywhere, unfortunately," Tsuneko said dryly. "But it is not just the lives of the British wizards that are at stake, Karasu. Voldemort will become a threat to our people too, if we do not stop him now."

"Fine," Karasu sighed. "We'll go and try to convince these 'politicians'--" He said it as if it were a dirty word. "--to give your non-humans equal rights so they'll help fight in the war. And--" He grinned fiercely. "--we'll talk to your non-humans, show them that they don't have to settle for being second-class citizens, teach them to stand up for their rights."

Sirius repressed a sigh, hoping that Karasu didn't start a mutiny among the non-humans--a war within a war, that was all they needed! And he was a little worried that Satoshi might decide to start playing tricks on Cornelius Fudge. {And Snape thinks I'M a bad diplomat!} he thought with amusement. {Something's wrong, when I'm the most responsible one in the room!} Well, that was not quite true; Chizuru, at least, seemed sensible. She certainly had the dignified air a diplomat should have.

"Very well," Sirius said. "I'll talk to Dumbledore and make the arrangements."

"Good," Kamiyama said. "When you're ready, send me a message."

"How exciting," said Satoshi, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "I've never been to England before. I'm looking forward to seeing your famous Hogwarts School."

"Hogwarts?" Sirius asked, puzzled.

"Oh, didn't I mention?" Kamiyama said with a twinkle in his eye. "Our three emissaries have also volunteered to teach their specialties to your students and those members of the Order who desire it. Chizuru is a healer, and Satoshi, of course, is an illusionist. As for Karasu, the tengu are famous in folklore for having taught martial arts and strategy to some of the greatest warriors in Japan."

"I'm not sure how well that will go over with the school governors," Sirius said dubiously. "And meaning no disrespect, I'm not sure that martial arts will be much help against the Death Eaters."

"Of course I am a mage as well as a warrior, but you might be surprised at how well a physical attack can work when the victim isn't expecting it," Karasu replied with a bloodthirsty grin. "It's pretty hard to cast a spell with your head cracked open or a sword run through your gut. Of course, it is a bit risky getting close enough to the wizard to attack him..."

Sirius shuddered a little, but this was war, after all. The Death Eaters certainly wouldn't show any mercy to them. "I'll present your offer to the Headmaster," he said, wondering what Dumbledore would make of their surprising proposal.

Sirius spent the rest of the evening answering questions about England and Hogwarts and the Ministry, and the three emissaries in turn told him a little about their lives. It seemed that the tengu and the crane people kept to themselves in the mountains, and did not like to mingle much with normal humans, while the tanuki had adapted and blended into modern-day society. Satoshi had been living in Tokyo disguised as a human, and had even worked at a string of Muggle jobs, but he quickly got bored and rarely stayed in one place for long.

"That means," Karasu said sardonically, "that he gets caught swindling the customers or flirting with the boss's wife, and has to run off to save his little tanuki hide." Satoshi just chuckled.

Chizuru just smiled patiently at her two more boisterous companions and explained in a quiet voice that she was an instructor at the Japanese school of magic, Mahou Gakkou, but that Kamiyama had asked her to take a leave of absence to serve on this special mission. Sirius noticed that both the tengu and the tanuki left off their bantering to pay attention when she spoke, and looked at her with admiration. She certainly was lovely, and she performed even the smallest, simplest gesture, such as lifting her tea cup to her lips, with an air of deliberate grace. After dinner was over, and the three guests prepared to leave, Satoshi offered to see her home as Karasu scowled.

"Thank you, but that will not be necessary," she said with a gentle smile. She stepped out the door onto the front porch, transformed into her crane form, and flew off towards the mountains. Sirius stared after her in awe; she was remarkably beautiful and graceful in both her forms.

"She's out of your league, boy," Karasu said in a gruff voice, but clapped him on the shoulder in a good-natured way.

"Oh, but I'm not," Sirius hastily demurred, "uh, I mean, I don't--"

"Out of your league, too, crow-boy," Satoshi said cheerfully.

"Out of all our leagues," Karasu agreed ruefully. Then he and the tanuki departed as well.

Sirius just shook his head and went back in the house. It was late, so Kamiyama suggested that he stay and get a good night's rest before returning to London in the morning.
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Meanwhile, unaware that his godfather was out of the country, Harry was finding school to be challenging and sometimes frustrating. He was doing well in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but struggling to keep up in Potions and Incantations. Harry had found his fifth-year Potions class difficult enough, but Snape drove his advanced students even harder, and of course Snape was quick to point out any mistakes that Harry made. However, Harry tried not to let Snape unnerve him; ironically, the control he had been learning in his Occlumency lessons helped him to keep his temper in check, and he was a little less intimidated by his teacher after spending the summer with him in Sirius's house. Whenever he felt himself becoming nervous and angry as Snape loomed over him, he tried to picture the scene he remembered from the night of the full moon--an indignant Snape lying flat on his back fending off the "attack" of an overly-affectionate werewolf covering his face with enthusiastic swipes of his tongue--and suddenly, the black-clad Potions Master would no longer seem quite so menacing. (Harry was careful not to meet Snape's eyes at those times, though; he doubted that Snape would be amused by that image.) So Harry was making less mistakes in Potions than he used to, but he was still overwhelmed by the amount of homework Snape assigned. However, he was slightly cheered by the fact that so far, Snape had not yet found an excuse to give him or Ron detention.

Professor Blackmore drove her students just as hard as Snape did, though of course she treated them much more fairly. As she had warned them on the first day of class, she expected to have their undivided attention at all times; she would not stop to explain something twice because a student happened to be daydreaming or whispering to a friend in the middle of her lecture. In fact, if she caught them at it, which she usually did, it earned the miscreant an immediate detention. The incantations and runes she taught them were very complicated, and she burdened them with even more homework than Snape. It was just barely manageable, if you started on your homework right away; if you left it till the last minute, you'd never get it done. Harry and Ron were forced to become organized in order to keep up, much to their disgruntlement and Hermione's pleasure.

Too much homework and an unfair Snape were nothing new, but on top of that came the news that the Death Eaters had broken out of prison. Most of the students were tense and nervous, except for Draco's crowd, of course, who were insufferably smug, and were openly gloating about it. Well, almost openly. Draco didn't actually say he was glad that his father was free, but he made a great show of reading the Daily Prophet at breakfast every morning, making sure that the prominent headlines about the Death Eaters' escape were visible to everyone in the room. Draco was a little cowed by the newly-stern Professor Lupin and more than a little cowed by Professor Blackmore, so he didn't taunt Harry in class, but he did silently mouth, "I told you so," in DADA class one day when Lupin's back was turned. Harry seethed furiously, but didn't dare respond with a hex or even a verbal insult, because Lupin would probably give him detention or take points from him, and he and Ron had already lost Gryffindor too many points as it was. He still felt a little hurt that Lupin was so quick to punish the Gryffindors and defend the Slytherins, and wondered if Lupin's romance with Snape could have affected his judgment. He and Ron commiserated privately, taking care to say nothing to Hermione, who always took Lupin's side and would just tell them that they were the ones behaving unfairly.

Shortly after Halloween, Harry went to Snape's office for his Occlumency lesson as usual. Instead of his normal hostility, Snape eyed him with a very odd, brooding look on his face. He said nothing, but just stared at Harry for a long time, until Harry finally said, "Sir?"

Snape blinked, cleared his throat, and said gruffly, "Well, then, let's see if you've been practicing, Potter."

Between homework and Quidditch practice, Harry had not had much time to practice his mental exercises, unless fighting not to lose his temper in Potions class counted. "Yes, sir," he said, trying to avoid Snape's eyes.

Snape raised his wand and said the words that Harry knew by heart: "One--two--three--Legilimens!"

Maybe keeping control of his temper in Potions class had helped, after all; his mental walls held up against Snape's initial attack. Snape eased up, and Harry made the mistake of relaxing for a moment; Snape immediately attacked with a sharp, sudden strike. Harry rushed to reinforce his defenses as memories slipped out, like water through a crack in a dam: a gloating Draco reading the Daily Prophet...the battle with the Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic...an angry Lupin taking points from Harry and Ron for insulting Draco's father...Hob's cupboard under the stairs in Sirius's house, which melted into an image of the cupboard Harry had been forced to live in at the Dursleys'... Harry flushed with anger and humiliation at the thought of Snape seeing that memory, and finally managed to repair the gap in his "wall" and stop the flow of memories.

Fighting to keep the anger from overwhelming him, Harry stopped trying to merely defend and began actively pushing back Snape's attack, and then suddenly it was Snape's defenses that broke, and images flowed into Harry's mind: an eleven or twelve year old Snape, staring at the posted class rankings, with his name listed as number 2, right below James Potter's...James Potter, the center of attention as a crowd of admiring students, including Lupin, gathered around him, while Snape stood alone and apart from the crowd, watching...young James--no, it was Harry himself, sitting in the Great Hall the day he had first arrived at Hogwarts, because an adult Snape was watching him from his vantage point at the staff table, with first shock and then loathing...Harry again, older this time, sitting in Potions class as Snape looked down and saw the words "I must not tell lies" etched into the back of Harry's hand...

The memories abruptly ceased as Snape broke off the spell. Harry looked up at his teacher with trepidation as Snape stared down at him, managing to look angry, troubled, and confused all at the same time. This time Harry was afraid to break the silence, and they stared at each other until Snape finally said, "Enough for tonight." Then he grudgingly added, "You seem to be making progress, Potter. But don't let your guard slip like that again; it's a foolish beginner's mistake. Always keep your defenses up, particularly when you're facing an enemy."

Some impulse overrode Harry's common sense, and he spoke without thinking. "Are you my enemy, sir?"

Snape just stared at Harry for a moment, looking more troubled than ever, then said sharply, "Don't be impertinent, Potter! For the purpose of this lesson, obviously I am."

"And outside of this lesson, sir?" Harry asked quietly. He was still confused by Snape's dual nature, and viewing himself through Snape's eyes had been extremely disturbing. From that image of himself as a first-year, Snape did indeed have trouble distinguishing Harry from his father in his mind.

"Obviously we have to work together to serve the Order, like it or not," Snape said through gritted teeth, with a flash of resentment in his black eyes. "Otherwise I would not be giving up my free time to tutor you. I assure you that I have other things I would much rather be doing. Now get out of here, Potter, and you had better have your Potions homework ready to turn in tomorrow, because you won't get any slack from me, extra lessons or not!"

"Slack" was the very last thing that Harry would expect from Snape. "Yes, sir," he said, and left the room, feeling a bit smug because he had already finished his Potions homework before dinner. He wondered why Snape had looked so troubled, and why, despite that last remark, Snape had been less hostile than usual; he had even given Harry a grudging compliment on his progress. Harry rubbed the back of his hand, feeling a phantom pain as he remembered how Umbridge's detention lines had cut into his hand last year; he had not realized that Snape had known about that. {He probably gloated about it,} Harry thought bitterly, but as he recalled the memory, he wasn't sure that was really true. The memories were brief and hazy, and flashed by so quickly that it was difficult to be sure, but he thought that he had detected a sense of horror and outrage on Snape's part. Maybe he was just imagining it. Yes, it was probably all his imagination. But suddenly he recalled Lupin telling him that Snape cared about his students even if he didn't show it, and he remembered how Dobby had stolen a jar of healing salve for him from Snape's office. For the first time, Harry wondered how Dobby had known that Snape kept the healing salve in his office; it would have been far more logical to look for it in the hospital wing. Maybe...no, surely Snape couldn't have given it to the house-elf! No, that was absolutely ridiculous! The house-elves cleaned the entire school, including Snape's office, and Dobby had probably seen the salve during the course of his duties; he'd had no trouble finding the gillyweed for Harry, after all. But then that thought began nagging at him too, because Dobby had only gone after the gillyweed after the fake Moody had put the thought into his head. Harry had been heading back to his dorm, but he turned around and headed for the kitchen instead.

The house-elves greeted him happily, clustering around him and offering him trays of sweets. "No, thank you, I was just here looking for Dobby, have you seen him? No, thanks--well, maybe just one."

Harry accepted a berry tart and took a bite out of it just as a voice exclaimed happily, "Harry Potter!"

"Hi Dobby," Harry said. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" Dobby shooed off the other house-elves, and they retreated to a corner of the kitchen to talk. "Listen, Dobby, do you remember the time you got the jar of healing salve for me from Snape's office?"

"Did Harry Potter get in trouble for that?" Dobby asked anxiously, preparing to start pounding his head against the wall.

"No, no!" Harry replied hastily. "Not at all! I was just wondering, um, how did you know Snape kept it in his office?"

Dobby paused to think. "Professor Snape said so."

"He told you it was there?!"

"No, Dobby was delivering mail to Professor Snape's office, and Professor Snape was holding the jar, and he said--" Dobby did a bad imitation of Snape's sinister cackle. "--'I'll bet Harry Potter could really use this healing salve for his hand! Too bad I'll never give it to him!'"

"And you snuck back into Snape's office after he left?" Harry asked. Something about Dobby's story struck him as odd; did Snape make a habit of talking to himself? Had he been gloating in front of Dobby because he knew that Dobby was a friend of Harry's?

"No," Dobby replied. "Professor Snape told Dobby to clean his office, and then Professor Snape left. So Dobby cleaned the office and took the jar." Dobby stared at the shocked expression on Harry's face and asked in a worried voice, "Did Dobby do something bad?"

"No, you did fine, Dobby," Harry said, but his head was spinning. "Um...do you normally clean Snape's office?"

"No," Dobby said. "Dobby likes to clean Gryffindor Tower because Harry Potter lives there!" He beamed happily at Harry.

"And don't the house-elves usually clean the school at night, after everyone is asleep?" Harry continued. Dobby nodded. "Was Snape's office especially dirty? Did he maybe spill something?"

Dobby thought about it, then said, "No, it didn't need much cleaning. Professor Snape keeps his office very neat."

The house-elf was looking worried again, so Harry forced a smile on his face and said, "Okay, Dobby, thanks. That's all I wanted to know."

"Dobby is always happy to help Harry Potter, sir," the house-elf said happily.

Harry left the kitchen and slowly headed back to Gryffindor Tower. He was in no rush, because he wanted to be alone while he thought things over. Snape was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them; he would never proclaim out loud that he had something that could help Harry and then leave Dobby alone in his office with it--unless he wanted Dobby to take it. It sounded crazy, but there was no other explanation. If he had known about it at the time, he would have suspected Snape of setting up a trap for him, but more than a year had passed with no punishment from Snape--at least, not for that particular offense. Could it be that Snape had been trying to help him? But why go to the trouble of staging that little charade for Dobby? He could have just given it to Harry, or told Madam Pomfrey to do so if he was afraid of ruining his Death Eater image. Harry sighed and shook his head, wondering if he would ever understand Snape. He wished he could talk about it with someone, but Ron would probably be just as bewildered as Harry, and ever since she had learned of his romance with Lupin, Hermione had become firmly entrenched in Snape's corner, and he didn't really want to hear once again about how she had known all along that Snape was "all right".
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Branwen's words about Potter and his father were still vivid in Snape's mind when the boy arrived for his Occlumency lesson. He knew that she was right about him treating the boy unfairly, but it was one thing to accept it intellectually while conversing with Branwen in her office, and quite another to try and do something about it when Harry was standing right in front of him looking so much like James. His feelings towards the boy were hopelessly entangled with his feelings towards the boy's father, and separating the two was proving extremely difficult, like trying to untangle a snarled knot of string.

Potter was actually making good progress in his lessons, but he was still too careless; he let a false lull in Snape's attack trick him into letting his guard down, and Snape was quick to strike and show the boy his mistake. The images of Draco and Lupin were not too disturbing, but the image of Potter living in a cupboard barely large enough to house a hob was...unsettling. It was a pointed reminder that Harry was not James, who had never suffered a moment's hardship as a child, who'd had everything handed to him on a silver platter--at least, it had seemed that way to an envious young Snape. He didn't want to feel sorry for Harry; he wanted to hate him...except, as Branwen had reminded him, that it was really James he hated.

Maybe it was his preoccupation with the past that distracted him and allowed Potter to get through his defenses, because suddenly Snape was the one on the defensive, and not surprisingly, the memories that escaped were all of James and Harry. When he saw himself looking down at the sentence carved into Harry's hand, he quickly broke off the spell. Having the boy in his head was bad enough, but he most certainly did not want Potter to find out that Snape had arranged for Dobby to "steal" the jar of healing salve. He thought he would die of embarrassment if the boy found out Snape had taken pity on him; the humiliation of the Pensieve incident had been bad enough.

And Snape was badly shaken by the memory of his first sight of Potter on the first day of school. He had known that James Potter's son was entering Hogwarts, of course, and had not been pleased about it, but he had not expected the boy to look so much like his father; it had been like seeing a ghost. Perhaps he could have tolerated the boy's presence better if he had resembled Lily instead, but having to see a near-duplicate of James in class every day awoke long-repressed emotions and opened old wounds. He could not look at Harry without being reminded of James, which could not help but remind him of Lupin, which in turn brought back all the old feelings of love and betrayal and hatred. Snape had blamed James for taking Lupin away from him, both because of the "prank" and just for being the golden boy whose friendship Lupin had chosen over Snape's. The very sight of the boy filled Snape with an irrational surge of hatred, and though he knew he was being unfair, Snape didn't try very hard to fight it. Hate was so much easier to deal with than loneliness and guilt...and even after he and Lupin resumed their romance, Snape had not been able to let go of his resentment towards Harry, because he was jealous of Lupin's affection for the boy. It was ridiculous to be jealous of a child, but Snape had feared being second in Lupin's heart to a Potter once again...in truth, he hated sharing Lupin with anyone, but especially with someone who bore the face and name of his old childhood enemy...

Snape stared down at the boy, who stared back at him with James's face and Lily's eyes. Funny, how he had never noticed that before--that the boy had his mother's eyes, although Lupin and several of the other Order members had remarked upon it. Did he have Lily's compassion as well as James's arrogance? Lupin and Branwen seemed to think so. Anger warred with confusion and guilt; Potter was disobedient, insolent, and always up to mischief, but so were the Weasley boys, as Branwen had pointed out, and so was Draco Malfoy, Snape had to reluctantly admit to himself. He was not entirely sure how many of Potter's flaws were real and how many had become magnified in his eyes because of his hatred for James. How much of Potter's attitude was really insolence and arrogance, and how much merely the mischievousness and self-centeredness of any normal child? Of course, "normal" was a relative term...how many children had lived in cupboard for eleven years? For that matter, how many parents punished their children with a Cruciatus curse?

Finally he noticed that Potter was looking at him curiously, and shook himself out of his reverie. "Enough for tonight," Snape said. "You seem to be making progress, Potter," he reluctantly acknowledged. But he could not resist chiding, "But don't let your guard slip like that again; it's a foolish beginner's mistake. Always keep your defenses up, particularly when you're facing an enemy."

"Are you my enemy, sir?" Potter asked.

Snape should've been angry, but he felt more shaken. For a moment, he wasn't sure if it was Potter or his own conscience talking. Snape's head knew that Potter was not the enemy, but he was having trouble convincing his heart of that. "Don't be impertinent, Potter!" Snape snapped. "For the purpose of this lesson, obviously I am."

"And outside of this lesson, sir?" Potter asked quietly.

"Obviously we have to work together to serve the Order, like it or not," Snape snarled through gritted teeth, easily falling back into the old, familiar role of the embittered Potions Master in order to hide his inner turmoil. "Otherwise I would not be giving up my free time to tutor you. I assure you that I have other things I would much rather be doing. Now get out of here, Potter, and you had better have your Potions homework ready to turn in tomorrow, because you won't get any slack from me, extra lessons or not!"

The boy left without further argument, and Snape returned to his quarters. It was a great relief and comfort to find Lupin already there, looking up from some papers he was grading to give Snape a welcoming smile.

"Hello, Severus," Lupin said cheerfully. "I hope you don't mind that I let myself in. How did Harry's lesson go?"

"Of course I don't mind, and all right, I suppose," Snape replied. He tried to keep his voice nonchalant, but Lupin was always good at picking up on his moods.

Lupin looked at Snape more closely and said in a concerned voice, "Are you all right, Severus? Did Harry stir up some disturbing memories?"

"Sort of," Snape sighed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lupin asked gently.

Snape looked into his lover's eyes, seeing no censure, only love and concern, but he was reminded once again of Branwen's words, of how it hurt Lupin to see Snape at odds with Black and Potter. There were a great many things he wanted to say to Lupin, chief among them, "I'm sorry": sorry for rejecting Lupin after the Shrieking Shack incident, sorry for all the hurtful things he had said back then, sorry for exposing Lupin's lycanthropy, sorry for causing Lupin pain by constantly arguing with his best friend and his deceased best friend's son. And also, "Thank you": "Thank you for still loving me after all the horrible things I've done to you." But all that would take a long time to say, and right now he wanted more than anything to feel Lupin's arms around him, so he settled for saying, "I love you, Remus."

That seemed to be enough. "I love you too, Severus," Lupin said, smiling at him warmly. He rose from his seat and held his arms open, and Snape stepped forward into his lover's embrace.

They made love that night, slowly and tenderly, without the usual hunger and urgency fueled by the wolf's instincts or Snape's insecurities. It was more comforting than passionate, but no less pleasurable for that. He basked in Lupin's presence afterwards, filled with a warm glow of contentment, his troubling thoughts temporarily banished. "I love you, Remus," he said again as he reached out to brush Lupin's hair back from his face, then let his fingers slowly trail across Lupin's cheek and down his neck, coming to rest on his chest, over his heart. He stared at Lupin with a sense of awe, marveling at how beautiful his lover was, and what a miracle it was that some as beautiful and kind and brave and...well, wonderful...as Lupin actually loved him.

"I love you too, Severus," Lupin said softly. "I love the way you look at me, like I'm the most precious thing in the world to you."

"You are," Snape whispered, and gently kissed Lupin on the lips.

"As you are to me," Lupin whispered back, smiling at him joyfully, although there were tears glistening in his eyes.

Tears of happiness, not sorrow, but Snape was reminded of the things he had wanted to say to Lupin earlier. "I'm sorry, Remus," he said quietly.

"For what?" Lupin asked in confusion.

"For everything," Snape replied. "For not trusting you, for not loving you enough back in fifth year--"

"Shh," Lupin said, laying a finger across Snape's lips. "It's all right. You don't have to apologize anymore."

Snape kissed Lupin's finger, but continued, "And for getting you fired--"

"I didn't get fired; I resigned," Lupin said lightly.

"And..." Snape hesitated. "I'm sorry for always fighting with Black and Potter."

"Well, it's not entirely your fault, at least with Sirius," Lupin said with a rueful smile. "I know he starts at least half of those quarrels."

"But it hurts you, to see the people you love at odds with each other."

"I told you, Severus, you don't have to forgive Sirius for my sake--"

"But it would make you happy if I did," Snape persisted, staring directly into Lupin's blue eyes.

Lupin looked torn, as if he didn't know whether to answer "yes" or "no". "Well, yes," he admitted, almost reluctantly. "But it's not something you can force. You have to let it happen naturally, Severus."

"I don't know if I can let go of the hate," Snape said in a low voice.

"Severus--"

"But I'll try," he continued. "For your sake."

Lupin looked both happy and worried at the same time. "Did Branwen give you a lecture the other day when she spoke to you in private? I know she means well, but you don't have to let her bully you into--"

Snape had to laugh a little in spite of himself. Now that Snape had decided to make peace with Black and Potter--or at least attempt to--and after all the trouble Branwen had gone through to make him reach that decision, it seemed that Lupin was going to stubbornly resist their efforts. {Perverse little werewolf,} he thought affectionately. "Don't you want me to make peace with Black, Lupin? How many times have you thrown up your arms in frustration when we fought?"

"Of course I do!" Lupin said. "But...I know how hard it is for you. I'm afraid it will make things worse, I suppose, if you try to make yourself feel something you can't."

"I'm not saying I want to become best friends with him, Lupin," Snape said in a testy voice, and Lupin giggled. "I don't know if I can ever bring myself to actually like him, but I'll try to stop hating him for your sake. I'll try to get along with him." He thought sourly to himself that Black probably wouldn't make it easy for him. "Branwen says I should at least give him a chance to prove that he's really changed."

"Thank you, Severus," Lupin said with a smile as clasped one of Snape's hands between his own. "I know how difficult this is for you."

Lupin's smile made the unpleasant task ahead of him seem slightly more palatable. "It is difficult," he said, "but I want you to be happy." He flushed guiltily. "I've treated you so badly, and yet you've always forgiven me--"

"I'm not keeping score, Severus," Lupin said, gently but firmly. "And neither should you."

"And it's not as if you ask for much," Snape finished.

"Just a few public displays of affection," Lupin grinned.

"Exhibitionist," Snape teased.

"You like it," Lupin retorted.

Snape grinned, then said in a more serious voice, "I love you, Remus. When the war is over, I will gladly tell the world that you are my lover."

Lupin stared at him in shock for a moment, then smiled, blinking back tears. "I'll hold you to that, Severus."

"I'm sure you will," Snape said in a dry voice, recalling Lupin's threat to kiss him at the head table in the Great Hall, and Lupin laughed. He moved closer and snuggled contentedly against Snape's chest and they held each other in silence for a moment.

"Sev?"

"Hmm?"

"Was it just Branwen's lecture, or did something happen during Harry's lesson to bring all this on?"

"Both," Snape said. "Mostly the lecture." He sighed. "When I look at him, I can't help but see James. The first time I saw him, the day he entered Hogwarts, it was like seeing a ghost."

"I know," Lupin said softly. "It brought back painful memories."

"I was so jealous of him," Snape said helplessly. "It seemed like he had everything I didn't: real friends, loving parents...you."

"You have me now, Severus," Lupin said gently. "I have loved you since fifth year, and I have never stopped loving you."

"I know," Snape said holding him tightly. "I know that now, even if I was too stupid to realize it back then. And I know I shouldn't hate the boy so much...Black at least gave me reason to hate him, but the boy hasn't really done anything except be born the son of someone I hate." He paused, and a little of the old resentment stirred. "And break every school rule and get away with it. And give me that same insolent look his father--"

"Severus!" Lupin scolded.

"Sorry," Snape said, flushing. "Old habits are hard to break."

Lupin smiled at him forgivingly, which made him feel even more ashamed of himself. "It will take time," Lupin said gently. "Your feelings won't change overnight. But you've made a start; that's the main thing. I'm very proud of you, love." He kissed Snape on the cheek.

"Maybe what I hated most was that you love him and loved his father," Snape admitted reluctantly. "I was jealous. I still am, a little. Well, more than a little."

"Oh, Severus," Lupin started to say sadly.

"But it doesn't seem so bad," Snape continued, "when I'm lying here with you like this."

Lupin's sad expression melted back into a smile. "Then we must do this more often," he declared.

"It might be a little difficult to do this more often than we do," Snape said with dry humor. "Considering that you spend just about every night in my quarters."

"We could always have a quickie between classes," Lupin suggested with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Didn't you have some fantasy involving, ah, how did you put it--throwing me across my desk in my office and having your way with me?"

"LUPIN!" Snape bellowed indignantly. He tried very hard to scowl ferociously at his lover, but when Lupin laughed, he couldn't help but laugh with him. "You are incorrigible, werewolf!" he said fondly.

"And you're not as tough as you like to pretend, Professor Snape," Lupin said, kissing the tip of his nose. "You're very diligent about protecting Harry, someone you claim to hate. And I know you like Hermione."

"I do not LIKE that annoying, know-it-all little Gryffindor wench!" Snape huffed, his face turning bright red.

"Uh-huh," Lupin said, with an amused, you-don't-fool-me look on his face. "I seem to recall you having a rather cozy little chat about Potions with her in the drawing room over the summer..."

"She kept pestering me about some potion she'd read about--in that book you bought her for Christmas and put my name on when I specifically told you not to, I might add! So it's all your fault! I finally had to explain it to her to make her leave me alone!"

"Uh-huh," Lupin repeated, in a voice that said he didn't buy that for one second.

"It's true!" Snape insisted. "Of course, I couldn't finish my explanation because a certain oversexed werewolf happened to pounce on me in the middle of it--"

"Grrr," Lupin growled playfully. "And that was your fault, Severus, for looking so handsome." He pushed Snape's hair back so he could gently press his lips against the nape of Snape's neck; Snape shivered with pleasure. "I don't know why exactly, but seeing the nape of your neck exposed really turns me on." He grinned at Snape. "Like you seem to have a thing for my throat."

Lupin tilted his head back, and Snape obligingly kissed and nipped at the hollow of his throat. "Would you like me to cut my hair, then?" Snape asked.

"No!" Lupin said instantly, sounding appalled. "I love running my hands through your hair!" And he did just that, to prove his point, letting his finger's slide through Snape's thick, black, collar-length hair. He kissed Snape lightly and said, "Besides I don't want you sharing that lovely neck of yours with the entire world!"

"That's a privilege reserved only for you, I suppose?" Snape laughed.

"Exactly," Lupin said, with a very possessive and self-satisfied smile. "Besides, if you walk around all day with your neck exposed, how am I supposed to control the wolf? I thought you didn't want me jumping on you at the head table..."

"No, I will keep my hair as it is," Snape said hastily, and Lupin chuckled.

"Good," Lupin said, nuzzling his hair. "And speaking of the wolf, it is feeling quite hungry right now, and it is your duty to keep it pacified."

"Never let it be said that I don't do my duty by Hogwarts and the Order," Snape said, feigning a martyred air as he pulled Lupin into his arms.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Snape was still in a good mood the next day, although of course he tried to conceal it from his students. He was sitting in his office between classes, when suddenly he heard Lupin call out to him through the fireplace, "Severus! I need to see you right away!"

The urgent tone in Lupin's voice alarmed him, and he pulled out his wand before grabbing a handful of floo powder and stepping into the fireplace. Hogwarts was well-warded, but in these times, it was better to be safe than sorry.

He emerged to find Lupin standing alone in his office with a mischievous expression on his face. "All right, what's going on, Lupin?" Snape asked suspiciously, feeling annoyed and relieved at the same time.

Lupin did not reply, but took out his own wand and began casting spells, setting a silence spell on the room and placing wards around the door, fireplace, and windows. Then Lupin began undoing the fastenings on the long, blue robe he was wearing--one Snape had given him for Christmas--starting at the throat and slowly working his way down. The robe fell open, revealing that he was wearing nothing beneath it.

Snape's jaw dropped, and his wand fell out of his hand to the floor with a clatter, but he didn't even notice. "Lupin!" he said; it was meant to be a cry of outrage, but came out as more of a squeak. He stared at his lover in shock for a moment; he had once had a dream remarkably similar to this scenario, but he had never told Lupin about it. Could he have guessed somehow? Then a rather disturbing thought occurred to him. "Please tell me that you didn't teach your classes like that all morning!"

Lupin just grinned at him wickedly. "Mm, but doesn't that thought turn you on just a little, Severus? The thought of me being naked beneath my robes all day...?" He laughed at the look of mingled lust and horror on his lover's face, and taking pity on him, pointed at a neatly-folded stack of clothing on the chair beside his desk. "Of course I didn't, silly! I came to my office after class and got undressed. Just for you, my sly Slytherin. You were saying last night that we should do this more often. And I did propose a quickie between classes..."

"I thought you were joking!" Snape said.

"I was," Lupin admitted, "but then the idea started to become very appealing."

"This is reckless behavior, Lupin," Snape said sternly, but his authority was somewhat diminished by the fact that he was licking his lips. "If anyone should walk in on us--"

"Thus, the wards, Severus," Lupin said calmly. "No one can enter through the door or even the fireplace until I remove them; there is a silence spell on the room so that no one passing by can hear us, and I have even warded and cast a spell of obscurement on the windows, although a person would have to be flying by on a broom in order to spy on us through them. It's perfectly safe, Severus."

"We'll be late for class," Snape protested.

"I don't think they'll start without you, Severus," Lupin said impishly. He shrugged his shoulders slightly and let the robe fall to the floor in a puddle at his feet.

That did the trick; Snape's halfhearted objections immediately ceased, and he crossed the room in three long strides, took Lupin in his arms, and kissed him hungrily.


Snape's sixth-year Advanced Potions students were sitting in their classroom, gossiping amongst themselves, wondering what was keeping their teacher, who usually arrived on time like clockwork. About ten minutes after class should have started, the door slammed open and Snape stalked in, looking rather flushed. "What are you doing?!" he snarled, and his students all jumped. "Do you think you can slack off just because I'm late? Class started ten minutes ago; if I'm not here you should be reading your textbooks or continuing to work on your potions, not sitting around gossiping!"

There were mumbles of "Yes, sir," and "Sorry, sir." Ron muttered under his breath, "If class started ten minutes ago, then where were you?"

"I heard that, Mr. Weasley! Ten points from Gryffindor for your insolence! And not that's it's any of your business, but I was late because I was having a conference with Professor Lupin!" He slammed his books down on his desk, causing the students to jump again, and he glowered at them, looking extremely vexed and just dying for a chance to punish the next student who stepped out of line. The Slytherins gulped and turned pale, trying frantically to think of something they might have done that would have caused Lupin to call a conference with Snape.

{Oh Merlin, I hope it wasn't me!} Theodore prayed fervently. {Did he report Draco's Serpensortia stunt to Snape? No, he gave Draco detention for that, so Snape already knew about it. Maybe Lupin noticed Blaise was acting oddly on Halloween...?}

Meanwhile, Draco was thinking to himself, {No wonder he's so ticked off; he hates having to spend time around the werewolf. Merlin, I hope Lupin wasn't complaining to him about me! But I haven't done anything since I cast the Serpensortia spell on Nott...}

Blaise just slid down a little lower in his seat, doing his best to become invisible; most of the other students followed his example.

"Stop slouching and sit up straight!" Snape shouted, and the children all sat bolt upright. "Your potions have been steeping since yesterday; take them out and get back to work on them!"

The students rushed to obey, working in a very industrious manner all period. Thus, they were all too busy to see Snape turn away as, for just a moment, a small but very amused smile crossed his lips.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sirius returned to England, loaded with souvenirs he had bought and gifts the Kamiyamas had pressed upon him, mainly an ungodly amount of Japanese sweets, including a freshly made batch of mochi, sticky-sweet rice cakes. "Be sure to give some to Snape-sensei," they said cheerfully. Miyako also gave Sirius one of the wooden fox statuettes she carved for the temple, and gave him some comic books and video game cartridges for Lupin.

He stopped by the school to present Kamiyama's proposal to Dumbledore, who summoned Snape and Lupin to the office so they could hear it as well. "Intriguing," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. "Very well, I will talk to the Ministry and the school governors."

"Do you really think they'll let Karasu teach the children physical combat?" Sirius asked dubiously.

"I'll take care of it," Dumbledore said, sounding unconcerned. "Perhaps if we present it as a cultural exchange, more as a sport or recreational activity..."

Lupin grinned. "Slyness is not solely a Slytherin trait, it seems." Snape just snorted and rolled his eyes.

"And he's talking about stirring up the non-humans," Sirius complained. "Is that wise?"

"Better that they be stirred up by one of our allies than by Voldemort," Dumbledore pointed out.

"I suppose so," Sirius conceded.

"You've done very well, Sirius. I'd like you to be the liaison to our guests when they arrive."

"Well, Remus laid all the groundwork; I'm just the messenger boy," Sirius said modestly, but felt quite pleased with the Headmaster's praise. "But sure, I'd be happy to."

Snape looked as if he wanted to say something sarcastic, but seemed to be trying very hard to restrain himself. When he spoke, all he said was, "I'm worried about this child Miyako has Seen."

"Divination is rarely very specific, unfortunately," Dumbledore sighed.

"At least with her dream of the roses," Snape continued, "we knew it had something to do with Dylan. How are we supposed to find this child? Camp out in the maternity ward of St. Mungo's and examine every newborn girl?"

"It will probably become clear when the time is right," Lupin said. "That seems to be how these things work."

"The way these things work," Snape grumbled, "is that it usually doesn't become clear until it's too late."

"I'll inform the other Order members of Miyako's message," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps something will occur to one of them."

Sirius doubted it, but there was little else they could do. He handed out the souvenirs he'd brought with him, tabi socks--socks with a split in them for the big toe, to be worn with sandals--for Dumbledore. "You always said one can never have too many socks," Sirius said, and Dumbledore chuckled, appearing to be quite tickled by his gift. He then handed Lupin the gifts from Miyako, and Sirius's own gift, a bottle of sake. "And I should give you back the books and things you loaned me--"

"Keep them," Lupin said. "You should probably keep studying them if you're to be the liaison to the Japanese emissaries."

"Thanks, Moony. And um, these are for you, Snape," Sirius said awkwardly, handing Snape the packages of sweets. Lupin grinned and Snape raised his eyebrows, and Sirius hastily added, "They're from the Kamiyamas."

"Ah, I see," Snape said, accepting the packages. Lupin cleared his throat loudly. "Well, er, thank you," he muttered in a rather grudging tone.

Lupin cleared his throat again, looking at Sirius this time. "Uh, yeah, no problem," Sirius muttered rather grudgingly himself. "Um, is Branwen around? I brought back something for her, too, and for Harry."

"No, I believe she had some errands to run in Hogsmeade," Dumbledore replied. "But I'll send for Harry so you can see him."

"Oh," Sirius said, feeling a little disappointed. "Thanks. Here, Moony, maybe you can give this to Branwen for me? Just a little souvenir from my trip." It was a folding paper fan, painted with a design of a pair of cranes in flight. Ironically, the cranes looked a lot like Chizuru, although Sirius had bought it in the village before he met her, simply because it was pretty and reminded him of the painting at the Sakura which served as a Portkey.

"Of course," Lupin said, taking the fan. "I'm sure she'll be sorry she missed you." He and Snape left, and a little while later Harry arrived.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed happily, and ran forward to give his godfather a hug.

"It's good to see you, Harry," Sirius said, feeling much better. He hugged Harry back and said, "I had to stop by to see the Headmaster so I thought I'd say hello. Here, this is for you; a souvenir from a trip I just took to Japan." He handed Harry the omamori charm.

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry said, staring at the little brocade bag curiously. "What is it?"

"A good luck charm," Sirius replied with a grin, "called an omamori. This one is for success in exams."

"Well, I can sure use it!" Harry laughed, a little ruefully.

"Snape's not giving you a hard time in class, is he?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"Sirius," Dumbledore said in a warning tone.

"No, actually I'm doing okay," Harry said quickly. "It's tough keeping up in class, but I'm doing a lot better in Potions than I did last year. Honestly. And he says I'm making progress with my Occlumency lessons." Harry hesitated, then added, "I'm not sure, but I think he tried to help me last year, when Umbridge gave me detention."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.

Harry explained about the lines he wrote for Umbridge that cut into his hand, and Sirius scowled furiously at Dumbledore. Before Sirius could start giving the Headmaster a piece of his mind, Harry hastily continued with his story about Dobby, and how Snape had apparently left the jar of healing salve out for the house-elf to "steal".

"I just don't get it," Harry said in confusion. "I thought he hated me. Why would he want to help me?"

"He doesn't hate you, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "I told you that before. It's your father he hates. Unfortunately, you remind him of James."

"Okay, I get that," Harry said, looking uncomfortable. "And I get that he protects me because he feels like he owes my dad for saving his life, and because of the Order. But the lines weren't exactly life-threatening, and he's given me plenty of detention himself--"

"Unpleasant detention tasks, I'm sure," Dumbledore said, still in that gentle voice. "But nothing like Professor Umbridge's punishment."

"Well, no," Harry admitted.

Harry looked at Sirius with troubled eyes, obviously asking for guidance. Sirius wanted to say something wise and godfatherly, but he was just as clueless as Harry. "I don't know, Harry," Sirius said slowly, keenly aware of Dumbledore's eyes gazing intently at him, although the old wizard was smiling in his usual good-natured fashion. "Maybe he helped you because of the debt he owes James." Then he reluctantly added, "I suppose if Remus were here, he would say that Snape cares about all his students, even if he doesn't show it." Harry still looked dubious, and Sirius couldn't blame him, because he shared those same misgivings; despite Lupin's words, it seemed to Sirius that Snape's concern was focused mostly on his Slytherin students.

"There is more to Professor Snape than meets the eye, Harry," Dumbledore said, kindly but firmly. "You know that."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, although he didn't look completely convinced. Then he turned back to Sirius and said, looking more cheerful, "You'll come to our Quidditch match this month, won't you, Sirius?"

"Of course!" Sirius said, smiling. "I wouldn't miss it for the world! I can't wait to see Gryffindor wipe the floor with Slytherin!"

"Ahem," Dumbledore said, clearing his throat and giving Sirius a stern look.

"Ah, all in good fun," Sirius hastily added, "and in a sportsmanlike manner, of course."

"Of course," Harry said, grinning.

"I should get going," Sirius said regretfully. "But I'll definitely be here for the game, Harry."

"I'll see you then," Harry said, turning to leave. Then he paused and asked, "By the way, what were you doing in Japan?"

Dumbledore and Sirius exchanged a look. "Sirius was running an errand for me," the Headmaster said. "It will become public soon enough, but for now I must request that you keep that information private."

"You were on a secret mission?" Harry asked, sounding excited and impressed.

"Just carrying some messages," Sirius said modestly, but smiled proudly.

"Can't you tell me what it was?" Harry asked eagerly. "You know I'll keep quiet about it!"

Dumbledore smiled. "I can't go into the details, but Sirius was meeting with some allies of the Order. As I said, you'll hear about it soon enough."

Harry looked a little disappointed, but he didn't argue. "It was good to see you, Sirius," he said, giving his godfather a quick hug before he left.

"You too, Harry," Sirius said, and he left as well.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sirius returned home, and was welcomed back by Tonks and Hob. He had brought gifts for them, too: a violet-colored kimono with a white flower design for Tonks ("To match your hair," he said with a grin) and some sweets for Hob. It was nice to have someone to come home to; Sirius found that he no longer minded living at the Black family house so much now that Tonks and Hob were living with him. Hob's little cosmetic touches, like the new curtains and wallpaper, had helped, but it was mostly their mere presence that brightened the formerly gloomy atmosphere.

He retired to his room to rest before dinner, and when he came down to the dining room, was surprised to find Tonks dressed in her new kimono, placing a vase filled with fresh flowers in the center of the table.

"My, don't you look nice," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "Did you get all dressed up just for me, or are we having company?" There were three place settings on the table, but the shy little hob usually preferred to eat alone in the kitchen or his cupboard now that Sirius was no longer living by himself.

"We're having company," she said in a slightly too-casual tone, and Sirius frowned suspiciously. Just then, he heard the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut. "Ah, there's our company now!"

Sirius was not kept in suspense for long; a minute later, Branwen walked into the dining room, with Bane perched on her shoulder as usual. "Thank you for inviting us, Tonks," she said, handing the young Auror a cardboard pastry box. "I stopped by Hogsmeade to pick up some dessert."

"You didn't have to do that, Branwen," Tonks protested, then laughed. "But Hob will be happy."

"Branwen?" Sirius asked, feeling a little stunned. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at Hogwarts?"

"Well, it's nice to see you, too, dear," Branwen replied mildly. "Tonks invited me--" Bane cawed loudly. "--and Bane, of course, over for dinner."

"But what about your classes?" Sirius demanded.

"We don't teach at night, Sirius," Branwen said gently, as if speaking to a very simple-minded child. "Except for Severus, who has to give Harry and Dylan private Occlumency lessons. Besides, it's Saturday."

"Don't be so rude, Sirius," Tonks chided. "Branwen will think you're not happy to see her."

Sirius shot her a quick glare and silently vowed, {I'll get you for this!}

Hob, who was probably in on Tonks's little scheme, had prepared a delicious meal and brought up a bottle of the finest vintage the Black wine cellar had to offer. Sirius sighed and resigned himself to an evening of matchmaking. He took a sip of wine, comforting himself with the fact that his mother would be rolling over in her grave if she knew that he was sharing her best wine with his half-blood cousin and a part-demon woman who, though from a distinguished line of wizards with Dark leanings, had thrown in her lot with "that bleeding heart Dumbledore" (as Mrs. Black used to refer to the Headmaster). Branwen clearly had no clue what Tonks was up to, so Sirius relaxed a little, and simply enjoyed her company as they conversed about Hogwarts and Sirius's trip to Japan; he tried to ignore Tonks's look of smug satisfaction.

As they lingered over dessert (chocolate marble cheesecake), Branwen said to Tonks, "You look quite fetching, dear. That robe suits you."

"Thanks," Tonks said with a grin. "Sirius got it for me in Japan."

"That reminds me," Branwen said, "thank you for the fan, Sirius; it's lovely."

"It's nothing," Sirius mumbled, as Tonks asked, "What did he get you? Can I see it?"

"Tonks!" Sirius said indignantly.

"Of course you can see it," Branwen said, giving him a puzzled look. She reached into a pocket on her robe and pulled out the fan, spreading it open so that Tonks could see the crane design.

"Ooh, that is nice!" Tonks said.

Bane cawed in a disgruntled tone. Branwen laughed, "Bane thinks you should have gotten a fan with ravens on it instead!"

"Sorry, Bane," Sirius said sardonically, "but they didn't have any. Maybe that tengu crow-man, Karasu, would know where to find one."

"The cranes are lovely, dear," Branwen said, smiling. "Remus says that they're a symbol of good luck in Japan."

"Really?" Sirius said. "I didn't know that; I just thought it looked pretty."

"Yes, apparently they're a symbol of longevity, peace, and fidelity."

"Fidelity?" Tonks asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes, because the Japanese cranes mate for life. Rather like wolves, I suppose."

Sirius, unfortunately, had just taken a bite of cheesecake, and choked on his food when he heard Branwen's words. She patted him on the back as he coughed and choked, saying in a concerned voice, "Are you all right, Sirius? My goodness, you have to be more careful when you eat, dear."

"I'm okay," Sirius gasped, finally managing to get the lump of cheesecake down his throat. He drained his glass of wine in one gulp, and glared at Tonks.

She smiled back at him innocently and asked, "That's quite fascinating, don't you think, Sirius? About the cranes, I mean?"

"Fascinating," he said sourly.

"It wouldn't hurt you to take a little interest in Japanese culture," Branwen said in what Sirius privately thought of as her "teacher's voice". "Since Albus has asked you to be the liaison to the representatives from Japan."

"Remus has already loaned me some books," Sirius said, a little sullenly.

"Good," Branwen said. "Make sure you study them." Sirius grunted an affirmative, and Branwen turned to Tonks. "How are you holding up, Tonks?"

"Okay," she said. "Though I can understand why Sirius was going a little stir-crazy last year." She gave her cousin a sympathetic look, but Sirius was not in the mood to forgive her just yet for her meddling. "It's incredibly frustrating just sitting here doing nothing."

"I know," Branwen sighed. "I don't think they really believe you're guilty, but since they have no other suspects, they're loathe to let you go for fear of looking incompetent."

Sirius snorted derisively. "I think you can find Cornelius Fudge's picture in the dictionary under the definition of 'incompetent'!"

"I thought about offering to swear under Truth Serum that I had nothing to do with the break-in, but the Headmaster told me that wasn't a good idea," Tonks said.

"No, it's not!" Branwen said, looking alarmed. "It would be all right if we could make sure that the Ministry confined themselves to asking solely about the break-in, but we can't take the chance that they might intentionally or unintentionally get you to spill information about the Order. It's possible that Voldemort might have other plants besides Gwydion, and there are always those like Umbridge who are not Death Eaters, but who have become his unwitting pawns."

"I know," Tonks said glumly. "I wouldn't want to endanger anyone, especially Severus and Dylan."

"We'll have to do it the hard way, but we will clear your name eventually," Branwen promised, patting her shoulder comfortingly. Tonks thanked her, and she left soon after that, saying it was late and she should get back to school. She lifted her familiar from the table, where he was sitting in a near-stupor after consuming a huge slice of cheesecake. "I think Severus is right," she told him disapprovingly. "You're getting fat." The raven was too contentedly full and sleepy to respond with his usual indignant croak. Branwen bid Tonks and Sirius goodnight, kissing Sirius on the cheek in a motherly fashion before she left.

As soon as Branwen was gone, Sirius said to his cousin, "You're dead meat, Tonks!"

"What?" she asked, feigning bewilderment. "All I did was invite a friend over for dinner. I thought you'd be glad of a little company; I know I am."

"Do not meddle in my love life, Tonks!" Sirius said sternly. "I mean it!"

"But Sirius--"

Sirius decided to turn the tables on her. "What about you?" he demanded. "You're single, too, aren't you? Shouldn't you be devoting your energies to finding someone for yourself first?"

"I don't have time for that--" Tonks began to protest.

"You've got nothing but time on your hands," Sirius pointed out, and grinned at the look of consternation on her face. "It's fine with me if you want to invite a guy over, though of course you'll have to run him by Dumbledore first, since this is the Order headquarters." Tonks blushed a little. "Do you have a certain guy in mind?"

"I don't have a boyfriend!" she said, still blushing.

"But there's someone you like?" Sirius hazarded a guess as his cousin's face turned pink, which clashed rather badly with her violet hair and kimono. "Who is it?" he cajoled. "Come on, you can tell me, your favorite cousin!"

"Gee, look at the time," Tonks said hastily. "I didn't realize it was so late! I'm heading up to bed; 'night, Sirius!"

"Goodnight, little cousin," he called out cheerfully. He took the dishes to the sink, and left a plate of cheesecake beside the fire for Hob. He was pleased that he'd managed to divert her attention away from him and Branwen for the moment, but frowned a little as he wondered who her crush was; not just any guy would do for his favorite cousin. He resolved to keep his eyes and ears open; sooner or later she would let down her guard and let a hint slip out.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tensions between the Slytherins and the other students escalated as the Death Eaters continued to elude capture; Neville Longbottom was not the only student who had lost family members in the first war. Although the children were too young to really remember their murdered relatives, their parents had impressed on them their fear and hatred of the Death Eaters. Quarrels broke out, and a few hexes were thrown on both sides, which were quickly punished by the teachers. But the hostilities did not cease; they only grew more subtle. Someone put a hex on Serafina's bottle of ink, causing it to explode and splatter ink all over the Slytherin girl and her books in Ancient Runes class; Serafina didn't seem perturbed about the ink that got on her face and robes, but she was quite upset about her ruined books. The culprit was never identified, but a Hufflepuff boy in her class (whose Muggle-born uncle had been killed during the war) went to the hospital wing the next day to get treated for a bad case of warts. And someone tripped Theodore between classes, nearly causing him to tumble down a flight of stairs. Goyle, whose brawn for once came in useful, managed to catch him and save him from possible serious injury. It was the usual mad rush between classes, and no one noticed (or at least, no one would admit to noticing) who had tripped Theodore, but a crowd of Gryffindors had been passing by when it happened. "Serves you right, weasel!" a seventh-year Gryffindor boy sneered, and several of the other students laughed. Apparently word of Theodore's Patronus had spread outside of Lupin's sixth-year class.

Snape was particularly furious about the last incident, and he and the other teachers took to patrolling the halls between classes; Snape made a point of lurking near his Slytherins in a particularly obvious and sinister manner, but he didn't have time to shepherd all his students to their classes, and the other teachers couldn't be everywhere at once, either. The prefects of each House were ordered to be on the alert, but Snape wasn't convinced that all the prefects were entirely innocent. He knew that Miss Granger would turn in one of her own housemates if she caught them up to mischief, but he suspected many of the others would turn a blind eye if that mischief were being carried out against a Slytherin. Branwen began sending Bane out to patrol the halls, and the raven made a very effective hall monitor: he could screech loud enough to wake the dead, and nearly gave the culprit a heart attack when he caught a student about to fling a handful of dungbombs into a crowd of Slytherins. (Snape took great pleasure in sentencing the student, a fourth-year Gryffindor boy, to a week's detention as well as taking twenty points from Gryffindor.) The incidents began to taper off, but the atmosphere remained tense.

All this trouble did, however, give Snape a good excuse to write to the parents of his students and suggest that the children would be safer remaining at school during the holidays where he could keep an eye on them. Of course, this meant that he would have to remain behind as well, but since Lupin was now teaching at Hogwarts, they could still be together, and hopefully it would give Snape an excuse to avoid having to spend another Christmas at Black's house.

Not long after that, Snape received a summons; to his surprise, Dylan apparently had not been summoned along with him, because he spent several anxious minutes in his quarters waiting with Lupin, and the boy did not appear. Feeling relieved that at least he would not have to put Dylan in danger this time, he left the school grounds and Disapparated.

He found himself in the usual place, but this time it was a small gathering, not the full conclave of Death Eaters. It was intimate and casual enough that his comrades had thrown back their hoods, so Snape did likewise. The Averys, Notts, and Malfoys were there, along with Crabbe and Goyle senior, as well as the ever-present Wormtail.

Voldemort smiled at him pleasantly, which immediately filled Snape with trepidation. "Your comrades tell me that you are concerned about the well-being of their children, Severus."

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said respectfully. "There is growing hostility, both among the students and the public at large."

Lucius Malfoy held up the letter Snape had sent to Narcissa. "And you think it would be best if the children remain at Hogwarts during the holidays?"

"Yes, and it might be wise to curtail their Hogsmeade trips as well," Snape replied. "Just to be on the safe side."

"I'll so miss my Draco if he can't come home for Christmas," Narcissa said mournfully. "But if you really think he'd be in danger, Severus--"

"Do you think I can't protect my own son in my own house, Severus?" Lucius asked coolly.

"With all due respect, Lucius," Snape replied, "it is not safe for you to return to your house while the Aurors are looking for you. And if you are not there, you cannot protect him. Of course, the Malfoy manor is well-warded, but there have been incidents...or so I have heard."

Narcissa bit her lip; she had been snubbed and taunted on the rare occasions when she ventured out in public. Suspected sympathizers of the Death Eaters had been harassed and even roughed up; only a few such incidents so far, but they were likely to grow. Vandals had thrown eggs and dungbombs at the residences of suspected and known Death Eaters, and written graffiti ("Murderer," "Death Eater," etc.) on some of the apartments and houses, though of course the estates of the more powerful families like the Malfoys had protection spells strong enough to prevent intruders from venturing onto the grounds.

"Draco wrote that someone tried to push Nott's son down the stairs at Hogwarts," Lucius said pointedly. "Are you sure that Hogwarts is such a safe place?"

"We have cracked down on these so-called pranksters and the number of incidents has drastically decreased," Snape said calmly. "Besides, they're still safer at the school where I can keep an eye on them and things are not likely to progress beyond a few childish hexes. It's only a matter of time before a vigilante murders someone or the Aurors are given free reign to kill again."

"There's no need to mollycoddle my boy, Snape," Thaddeus Nott said coldly, giving the Potions Master a hard, suspicious stare. "He's almost a man; he's old enough to take care of himself, or would be if people would stop being so soft with him." He sneered at his wife, Marta, who looked unhappy, but said nothing and kept her eyes downcast. She was a dark-haired woman who might have been pretty, if not for the lines of strain and worry on her face and a cowed, defeated look in her eyes.

"I assure you, Thaddeus," Snape said dryly, "that no one has ever accused me of being soft on my students." Lucius Malfoy chuckled a little at that.

Nott shot him a quick, sullen glare, but apparently did not want to openly antagonize Malfoy. He turned back to Snape and said, "If you keep the boys at school, they can't carry messages if we need them to."

Snape shrugged, affecting an air of indifference. "Well, you are their parents; the decision is yours. But you did charge me with the task of looking after their safety and best interests, so I am only trying to do as you asked."

"Yes, you have been most diligent in your efforts to look after your students, especially the Rosier boy," Voldemort said smoothly, but there was a dangerous glint to his red eyes. "Surely you are not getting sentimental on us, are you, Severus?"

"Sentiment is for the weak," Snape said coolly, echoing his father's favorite words, for once grateful that they had been drilled into his head as a child so often that it had become almost an automatic response. "I am merely doing my duty, looking after the offspring of my comrades, and more importantly, guarding your possessions, my Lord. For they belong to you, do they not? They are destined to enter your service, so of course I most diligently look after their safety and see to their education, that they might grow up to be proper servants to you."

Narcissa looked a bit offended and disturbed at her son being called a "possession," but her eyes flickered towards the Dark Lord, and she remained silent. Voldemort just laughed, and seemed pacified--for the moment. "Indeed, Severus," he said. "And how are our future Death Eaters shaping up?"

"They show great promise, my Lord," Snape said. "Young Draco, of course, is a talented Potions student, and already adept at the Dark Arts." He nodded in Lucius's direction, and a cold but pleased smile crossed Malfoy's lips. "And Serafina seems to have quite a talent for hexes." Andreas Avery scowled furiously, and his wife Delia, a pale woman with limp, stringy hair somewhere between blonde and brown, cringed. "Theodore seems most promising as well." He couldn't really think of anything positive to say about Crabbe and Goyle, but fortunately, no one, not even their fathers, seemed to expect him to. A thought occurred to him, a potentially dangerous plan, but one that would give him a good excuse to keep the children at Hogwarts and away from their parents. "Of course, if they remain behind during the holidays, they need not be idle," he said in a silky voice. "I could give them private lessons, and..." He paused, as if to consider his words. "...ah, teach them things to prepare them for the duties that await them."

"I have tutored Draco extensively at home, Severus," Lucius said, a slight edge to his voice.

"Of course I am sure that there is not much more I can teach Draco that you have not," Snape said in a mollifying tone, and Lucius looked placated. "But perhaps some of the others could benefit from a little tutoring."

Voldemort had a thoughtful look on his face. "Yes," he said, "perhaps that is wise. Soon they will take their places among us, and they must be ready. See to it, Severus." Voldemort grinned at him, not a very pleasant sight with his white, almost skeletal face and glowing crimson eyes. "You always were one of my most talented disciples, and also very good at teaching your fellow Death Eaters, as I recall." He laughed, "Perhaps you have found your calling as a teacher, after all!"

The Death Eaters laughed along with him nervously, and Snape bowed low and said, "I live to serve you, Master."

Voldemort looked at him closely for a moment, and Snape wondered if he had laid it on a little too thick, although the Dark Lord usually enjoyed, and even expected, extravagant obeisance and flattery. "Yes, you do, Severus--all of you," Voldemort said in a much more quiet and serious voice. "Live to serve me, that is. Never forget that."

"Never, Master!" the Death Eaters all said fervently, kneeling before him.

"Very well, Severus," Voldemort said. "See to the children's education. And you are working on that new batch of Mind Restoration Potion for the Donners?"

"Yes, my Lord, as you ordered."

"Then you are dismissed."

Thaddeus was not pleased, but the Dark Lord had spoken, and there was no contradicting his will. He scowled at Snape and Disapparated. Marta gave him a quick, entreating look, then vanished as well. He was not quite sure what she was asking; to keep Theodore safe, probably--but from whom? The irate public, or the Death Eaters themselves? Crabbe, Goyle, and the Averys left without a word, but Narcissa said, "Please look after Draco, Severus."

"Of course, Narcissa. I always do."

"Come along, dear," Lucius said, a little impatiently. "Severus will watch over Draco as he always has." Narcissa nodded obediently, but flashed Snape a grateful look before Disapparating with her husband, and Snape Disapparated and returned home to Hogwarts.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Not long after that, Dumbledore called another Order meeting. Sirius reported on his mission to Japan, and Dumbledore informed them that he was arranging an audience with the Ministry for the Japanese emissaries, as well as more private meetings with select groups of non-humans.

"What if they stir up a rebellion amongst the non-humans?" Dedalus Diggle asked nervously.

"What do you do think Voldemort is doing?" Branwen pointed out impatiently. "If they don't join us, they will likely join his side."

"Yes, but it might be counterproductive if this Karasu gets the non-humans so riled up that the Ministry views them as a threat," Arthur Weasley said thoughtfully.

"I will speak with the emissaries and impress upon them the need for...ah, diplomacy and caution," Dumbledore said. "It is a good idea Professor Kamiyama had, to send non-human wizards and show the Ministry that they can be just as capable and respected as their human counterparts."

"Actually, Satoshi claims that most of the Japanese wizards derive their powers from non-human ancestors," Sirius said. "Naoto himself is a kitsune, of course, and he seems to be a prominent member of their wizards' council. It makes one wonder, whether some us might have had...unusual...ancestors as well." He caught Branwen's eye, and she smiled; her many-times great-grandfather and co-founder of her clan had been a demon.

"I wouldn't be surprised," she said.

Several of the other Order members looked outraged at that, and Shacklebolt said, "I don't think that theory would go over well with the Ministry, and you had best keep it to yourself, Black. There's nothing to be gained in openly antagonizing Fudge and his cronies."

"I'm not stupid, Kingsley," Sirius said, sounding a little offended.

"Could have fooled me," Snape muttered under his breath, then subsided and looked a bit guilty after Lupin kicked him under the table. Dumbledore pretended not to notice, and called on Snape to give his report.

Most of his fellow members were not pleased when they heard what he had to say. "Teaching the Dark Arts is prohibited at Hogwarts!" McGonagall said. "You know that, Severus!"

"Oh please," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "Do you really think that they haven't already been tutored in the Dark Arts by their parents at home?"

"That doesn't mean that you need to encourage them further!" McGonagall snapped.

"Are you sure you remember which side you're on, Snape?" Moody asked suspiciously. "Those 'children' are likely to end up using the spells you teach them against us someday!"

"I'm trying to prevent them from becoming Death Eaters," Snape said coldly.

"Funny way you have of going about it," retorted Moody.

"Potter learned how to cast a Cruciatus Curse from you," Snape shot back. "Oh, excuse me, that was your double."

"Enough!" Dumbledore said, as Moody began turning red with anger. "Save your energy for fighting the enemy, not each other! Now Severus, I understand that you want to protect your students, but I also have some serious reservations about you teaching them Dark Magic."

"Moody has a point," Shacklebolt said in an even voice. "What if your students end up using those spells against us, or against their fellow students, someday?"

"Believe it or not," Snape said angrily, "I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea myself. I know better than anyone the risks involved. But the Dark Lord and my fellow Death Eaters were becoming suspicious of my concern for my students, and this was the only excuse I could think of to allay those suspicions and keep the children away from their parents."

"I trust Severus," Lupin said quietly, "and I think this is the lesser of two evils. Theodore Nott in particular could be in danger from his own family. And Severus says that Serafina Avery's father is abusive as well."

"There is more at stake here than the lives of two children," Moody said. McGonagall and some of the others looked outraged, but several more nodded in agreement.

"Would you be so quick to sacrifice those children if they weren't Slytherins?" Snape asked sharply.

To his surprise, Tonks spoke up in his defense. "It's not right to sacrifice a child, any child, to our cause. That would make us no better than the Death Eaters."

"This is a war," Moody said. "You have to be realistic. It may sound cold-hearted, but are you really willing to risk the outcome of the war for two children? No one's life, not yours, not mine, is worth that."

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Branwen beat him to it. "I don't think that Severus teaching the Slytherins a few Dark spells is going to have a major impact on the outcome of the war, Alastor," she said sharply.

"You never know, Branwen," Moody replied. "What if those children join the Death Eaters and use those spells at a critical moment on the battlefield? What if they use them to attack Potter at school?"

"You're being a bit paranoid, Mad-Eye," Tonks said.

"Paranoia has kept me alive all these years," Moody retorted. "If you'd been a little more paranoid, maybe you wouldn't be wearing that collar around your neck!"

"Now, see here!" Shacklebolt said indignantly, and Sirius looked ready to leap to his cousin's defense as well.

Lupin interrupted before another argument could get started. "I think the possible benefits of Severus's plan outweigh the risks," he said firmly. "Severus will have to teach them some Dark Magic, but they would learn it eventually anyway, from either their parents or Voldemort. And they will be kept at school, away from their parents' influence, and Severus will be able to spend a great deal of time with them, alone and unsupervised. It will give him a chance to steer them away from the Death Eaters and prevent them from making the same mistakes their parents did. Serafina and Theodore would be grateful, I think, to be spared the fate of their parents." Moody and some of the other Order members looked dubious, but Lupin ignored them and continued, "And we were even starting to make some progress with Draco Malfoy, but unfortunately, the Death Eaters' escape and his father's visit in Hogsmeade undid most of our efforts." Lupin sighed. "But still, he has the capacity to change and become a better person than his father, and I think we can get through to him if we try hard enough."

"Lucius Malfoy's child is a lost cause," Moody said contemptuously.

"No child is a lost cause, Alastor!" Branwen snapped, glaring at him.

Moody was one of the few people who could bear her steely gaze without flinching. "You're too sentimental, Branwen," he said. "It nearly got you killed during the first war."

"Funny," Snape said in a cool voice. "The Dark Lord accused me of being too sentimental towards the children as well. Perhaps you and he have more in common than you know."

Moody looked furious, but Dumbledore spoke before he could respond. "Very well, Severus," he said reluctantly. "I'll trust your judgment, but keep me apprised of what you are teaching them and how they are progressing."

"I'll try to stall and hold them back as long as I can," Snape said, "but I will eventually have to teach them something useful, or their parents will become suspicious again."

"Look," said Sirius, "I'm not saying we should sacrifice these kids, but Harry has had to sacrifice a lot, too, being brought up by those nasty relatives of his and being put in danger all the time..."

"I would spare Harry if I could, Sirius," Dumbledore said sadly.

"There is a difference between Potter and my Slytherins," Snape said coolly, but without the scorn his voice usually held when he spoke to Sirius; in fact, Sirius almost thought he detected a hint of sympathy, but it was so faint that he wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not. "The Dark Lord views the Death Eater offspring merely as his possessions; they might become useful to him in the future, but they hold only a passing interest for him at present. Potter, on the other hand, he is most definitely interested in. He was unable to get hold of the prophecy sphere, but he knows enough; he knows that Potter is the only one who has the power to defeat him, so Potter is involved whether we consent to it or not. The Dark Lord does not suffer from any pangs of 'sentiment,' I assure you, and he won't show Potter any mercy because he's a child."

"Maybe Moody's right," Shacklebolt said thoughtfully. "What if You-Know-Who tries to use the Slytherin children to harm Harry?"

Unfortunately, Snape had to admit to himself that it wasn't as remote a possibility as he would like to think. He exchanged looks with the other Hogwarts teachers. "I'll keep a close eye on my Slytherins," he said, "and we should all keep a close eye on Mr. Potter." He turned to Dumbledore and said, "Perhaps you can impress on him the importance of being careful and not wandering off alone." He added in his more normal, waspish voice, "And especially of not sneaking around the campus after-hours?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I'll warn Harry to be careful."

"It would help if we could divert the Dark Lord's suspicions to someone else for a change," Snape said. "I recall that Tonks suggested we try and make it seem as if Gwydion was betraying the Death Eaters. Nothing came of it, because the Dark Lord didn't alert me to the prison break, but it's still a good idea. The Dark Lord was already annoyed that his 'source at the Ministry' didn't let him know that the Aurors were keeping watch on the Rosier estate, so it wouldn't take much more to arouse his suspicions."

Shacklebolt smiled grimly as he stared at the collar on Tonks's neck. "Yes, I agree it's time that we unsettled Gwydion a bit; I think we can arrange that. We can start subtly, by having myself and other Aurors who openly support Dumbledore be seen being quite chummy with our friend Gwydion. Word will probably leak back to You-Know-Who eventually."

"If not, I can make sure that it happens," Snape said with an evil smile.

Shacklebolt grinned back at him conspiratorially. He didn't much like Snape, but for once, they were in complete agreement. "And then perhaps the Aurors can begin showing interest in the Rosier and Donner estates, perhaps hint that we know Karkaroff's dead. I don't suppose you know what he did with the body afterwards?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Pity," said Shacklebolt. "Would've been nice if we could have found it thanks to an 'anonymous tip'..."

"Be careful," warned Dumbledore sternly. "We don't want to jeopardize Severus's safety."

"We'll be careful, Albus," Shacklebolt promised. "We'll move slowly."

The meeting broke up soon after that. Goewin, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the meeting, paused to speak to Snape. "Do you want Dylan to remain at Hogwarts for Christmas, Severus? We all miss him, but if you think it's necessary..."

"It's true there is some danger, but he should be safe enough if he doesn't leave the house. I only wanted to keep the children at school to protect them from their parents, not the public at large. As far as the Death Eaters know, Ariane wouldn't be aware of the Dark Lord's dictate for the children to be 'tutored,' so I can't stop her from taking Dylan home if she insists. It would probably be better if he remained here, but..." Some impulse made Snape reconsider; war could break out at anytime, and there was no guarantee that any of them would survive it. Who knew when Dylan might have another chance to spend time with his family? "Let him go home; I'll deal with the consequences, if there are any."

Lupin suggested, "Perhaps a compromise? Let him spend Christmas at home with his family, but return to school early?"

"I'll talk it over with Math and Ariane," Goewin said. "And Severus--I don't want you tutoring Dylan in the Dark Arts. He's been exposed to enough of that already."

"I doubt I really need to," Snape replied. "Ariane seems to have given him quite an education already. Not many students, even among the Slytherins, know what a Death Strike or a Blood Healing spell is." Goewin looked quite cross at that reminder, and Snape added, "Don't be so hard on Ariane. She made mistakes, but she was not the only one to be fooled by the Dark Lord's promises. At least she finally realized the danger and put Dylan's safety ahead of her own need for power and revenge. She has more sense than Narcissa, who doesn't seem to be aware of the danger her son is in, and more courage than Delia and Marta, who probably are aware, but are afraid to do anything about it, even to save their own children."

Goewin sighed. "I am more angry at myself than Ariane, for not seeing through her act--and Dylan's--before. I should have realized that Ariane would never have so tamely accepted her exile unless she had some plan in mind. And Dylan--he was such a sweet, charming boy from the day he was born. I loved him so much that I never stopped to think that he was too patient, too well-behaved, too good-natured, especially considering the verbal abuse he was subjected to by Deirdre and her sons. A normal child would have lost his temper, shown more open resentment. I was proud that he showed more maturity than his uncles did, but I should have realized that it wasn't natural."

"It wasn't all an act," Lupin said gently. "He loves you and Mathias, and some of the values you tried to teach him stuck with him, despite the secret education Ariane gave him--I know that he didn't learn his tolerance for the Muggle-born from her. During his first year at Hogwarts, he made friends with a Muggle-born girl named Hermione, one of Harry's friends. I think that might have given him second thoughts about his desire to join the Death Eaters."

Goewin smiled. "Ah, that friendship is real, then? I was pleased about it at the time, but after I found out the truth, I thought perhaps it was another act designed to lull our suspicions."

"It's quite real," Snape said, then muttered under his breath, "unfortunately."

"You and Mathias taught him love and compassion," Lupin continued. "Even Ariane, as misguided as her choices were, made them for love, unlike most of the other Death Eaters. Without the three of you, the hatred of his uncles and grandmother might have warped him beyond redemption. Voldemort made a serious mistake when he forced Dylan to join the Death Eaters by threatening his mother, because Dylan made that decision for love, not power or glory or self-interest. He is Marked by the Dark Lord, but his soul is still his own."

Goewin smiled sadly, blinking back tears. "Please watch over him, you two," she whispered.

"We will," Lupin promised, and Snape nodded. Goewin left, and most of the other Order members were already gone. Only Lupin, Snape, Dumbledore, Sirius, Tonks, and Branwen remained in the room.

"I don't like it that the Dark Lord told me that the children will take their places among the Death Eaters 'soon,'" Snape said grimly. "Of course, 'soon' is a relative term for someone who waited for over a decade to regain his body. It could mean next month, it could mean next year." He turned to Lupin. "But it might be wise for you to step up the pace of your Defense class, especially for the fifth and sixth-years."

Lupin nodded solemnly. "I'll do my best, Severus."

"We all will," Dumbledore said gravely.

"I'm proud of you, Severus," Branwen said quietly, taking his hand for a moment. "You've tried so hard to reach your students." She smiled at him, a slightly twisted smile, but it was more sad than bitter. "And you seem to have had more success than I did, twenty years ago."

"That's because they've seen the true face of the Dark Lord," Snape replied just as quietly. "Dylan firsthand, and Serafina and Theodore through their fathers. They don't harbor the same illusions we did back then. And...I couldn't have done it without your example, Branwen."

"I'm not sure that's true, dear," Branwen said, with a more sincere smile this time. "But I'm glad my lectures were not wasted on you."

Sirius felt an odd little twinge of resentment as she kissed Snape on the cheek. He was not jealous, he firmly told himself, only annoyed by her usual pro-Slytherin bias. Yes, that was all it was...

Sirius flushed a little as Branwen gave him a motherly peck on the cheek before departing, and Tonks grinned. "You should stop by for dinner again sometime, Branwen," she called out cheerfully. "On the weekend, perhaps, when you're not busy with classes." Sirius scowled at her ferociously, but but it was too late.

"Thank you, dear," Branwen replied. "I will." She smiled sympathetically, mistaking the intent behind Tonks's invitation, and added, "You must be quite bored and lonely, being cooped up in the house all the time with no company but Sirius and Hob. Perhaps we can make a gathering of it, coax Molly into cooking dinner for us, invite Arthur and the boys as well, of course, and Remus and Severus--"

"Severus is much too busy with school to attend dinner parties," Snape said hastily. "I have to work on the Mind Restoration Potion, not to mention Potter's and Rosier's Occlumency lessons--"

"You can spare a couple of hours for dinner, Severus," Lupin said firmly, linking his arm through Snape's. "Just let us know when, Tonks."

"But Lupin," Snape whined plaintively as his lover dragged him out of the room. Dumbledore and Branwen chuckled to themselves as they departed, and Sirius snickered as Tonks looked quite put out at having her matchmaking attempt subverted.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Gilbert Donner sat morosely in his bedroom, staring at the book lying open on his lap, but he had read the same page at least ten times without the slightest recollection of what it said. He sighed and gave up, closing the book and putting it aside. While his brother was at work, Gilbert had little to do but read or spend time with his mother. There was only so much reading he could do in one day, and lately he had been limiting the time he spent around his mother, because keeping up the dull-witted act in front of her was becoming a strain. Now that he had his wits back, he could have gotten a job himself, but there was no safe explanation he could give for his miraculous recovery. Despairingly, he wondered why they had sacrificed so much to regain his intelligence, when they had to keep it a secret from everyone.

But at the time, he had been desperate to retain his sanity, after that first sip of the potion in the Leaky Cauldron, when he had been able to think clearly for the first time in years. Back then, after that first taste of sanity, he would have done anything, up to and including selling his soul, not to sink back into the half-aware stupor he had endured for over a decade. And now Gilbert was terribly afraid that he really had sold his soul...he had been afraid to take up Lucius Malfoy's bargain and become a Death Eater, but he had not put up much of a protest when Gwydion insisted on it. Gwydion was always so sly and clever, surely he would be able to find a way to get them out of it. But Gwydion had outsmarted himself, as he had once before, over twenty years ago...

If only he had never touched Goewin, all this never would have happened, and they would not be in such a mess right now. But Gilbert, having recently graduated from Hogwarts and not yet having found gainful employment, had been at loose ends on his uncle's estate. His mother did not want him to remain idle, so he took over some of the day-to-day responsibilities of running the estate to free up his uncle's time for his work in the Order of the Phoenix. And thus, he had come into contact with Math's young apprentice, Goewin.

Goewin had a rare gift, a type of Sight not seen in generations, but several Donner women had possessed that same gift in the distant past, so she was sent to study under Math, a scholar and historian who had made a study of such things, who had extensive knowledge of the gifts of his ancestors, and who retained most of the Donner histories, diaries, and spellbooks in the library on his estate.

Gilbert had been immediately smitten with the serious, dark-haired girl. Gwydion said dismissively that she was too bookish and priggish for his taste. But Gilbert thought she was more shy than priggish, and he liked the way she always thought before she spoke. When he asked her even a simple question, she seemed to pause and weigh it over in her mind, as if what he was saying was of the utmost importance, and that was something new for Gilbert. He dearly loved his twin, but at times felt overshadowed by him: Gwydion was handsome, dashing, and clever. He was a talented mage, and everyone said he was destined for great things, while Gilbert's powers were mediocre in comparison. Gwydion was quick-witted and smooth with the women, who seemed to fling themselves at him in droves; Gilbert found himself tongue-tied around the girls that he liked, who never seemed to notice him when Gwydion was around, anyway. But Goewin was always kind to him, and always seemed to be interested in what he had to say, and best of all, she never looked at him with disappointment as his mother often did, as if he would never live up to his brother's example. In fact, Goewin didn't seem to much like Gwydion, and preferred Gilbert's company to that of his brother's. "He's a little full of himself," she had once said apologetically. Gilbert had loyally denied it, but felt a bit of guilty pleasure at her words.

They were the only two young people on the estate, so it was only natural for them to strike up a friendship and spend time together when they weren't busy with their respective duties. They would talk or just read quietly together in the library, or go for walks in the garden. And soon, at least on Gilbert's part, friendship developed into something more. He tried to fight his feelings, because he knew that her gift as an Oracle required her to remain chaste, but the more he fought them, and the more he avoided her, the stronger those feelings became.

One day they were walking through the garden together, and although she was speaking to him, he had no idea what she was saying, because he was so captivated by the way the sunlight was falling across her face, and by how soft and full her lips looked. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

For a moment, she kissed him back, then pulled away and said in horror, "Gilbert! We can't do this!"

"I love you, Goewin," he said, pulling her close and kissing her again. "I'm sorry, I've tried to fight it, but I can't! I love you, I want you, I need you--"

"Let me go!" she cried. When he didn't, she kicked him hard in the shin, and he yelped in pain and released her. "Gilbert, are you out of your mind?!" she shouted. Her expression softened slightly at the hurt look on his face, and she said more kindly, "You know we can't do this. We cannot be more than friends, because my gift requires me to remain chaste. I cannot throw that away for a moment's pleasure."

"I'm not talking about a moment's pleasure!" Gilbert said indignantly. "Do you think me such a cad? I'd never dishonor you that way; marry me and be my wife!"

Goewin's look of sympathy turned into one of anger. "Didn't you hear what I said? Marriage or one-night stand, it makes no difference! If I lose my virginity, I will lose my Sight!"

"I don't care about that!" Gilbert cried.

"Well, I do!" Goewin retorted. "How can you be so selfish, Gilbert? Why do you think Math has spent so much time and effort on training me? My Sight could make a difference in the war! I might be able to save lives, maybe even find a way to defeat Voldemort! And you would throw that all away, sacrifice all those lives just to satisfy your own personal desires? Grow up, Gilbert, and do your duty as a wizard!" He just stood there, stricken, and she added in a kinder voice, "I won't tell Math about this, and we will never speak of this again, understand?" He nodded dumbly, and she turned and walked back to the house. In the days that followed, she was still polite and friendly to him, but they no longer went for walks in the garden, and she took care never to be alone with him, always contriving some excuse to have Math or one of the servants around whenever he came by to see her.

The next time Gwydion came to visit, a despondent Gilbert had poured out his heart to his brother. "That bitch!" Gwydion said viciously. "She couldn't even turn you down kindly!" And Gilbert had let Gwydion's rage fuel his own anger, turning sorrow into bitter resentment. He had confessed his love to her, after all, and offered her honorable marriage into one of the most respected and powerful pureblood families in Britain, one that ranked considerably above her own. Who was she to turn him down?! And even if she was so duty-bound, she could have turned down his proposal more nicely; she didn't have to call him selfish! And somehow, he had let himself be talked into taking part in Gwydion's plan to "make Goewin yours, whether she wills it or not. I'll see to it that your desires are satisfied, and then if you still want to marry her--though I don't know why you'd want such a harpy for a wife--she'll have no choice. She will never find another husband; no man of rank will marry a despoiled maiden."

Some small part of Gilbert's conscience knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he followed his brother's lead as he had all his life. Gwydion sent his uncle an anonymous tip about a planned Death Eater attack, and Math immediately set off to gather some of his fellow Order members and deal with it. By the time he figured out the tip was false, it would be too late. Gwydion chased away the servants, both human and house-elf, and broke into Goewin's room. Startled, she reached for her wand, but not fast enough. He disarmed her with with an Expelliarmus spell, then immobilized her with an Impediment Curse. Then he grinned and said, "Have fun, brother," and left the room, closing the door behind him. He stood guard outside the room, and none of the servants dared challenge such a powerful mage.

But Gilbert had found little satisfaction in the act. Goewin managed to partially shake off the curse--not enough to free herself, but just enough to enable her to scream and struggle and make the whole experience thoroughly unpleasant for Gilbert. He finished quickly, and felt sick and ashamed afterwards, as he looked down at Goewin's tear-streaked face, her eyes full of shame and anger and betrayal. "I loved you," he said helplessly. "I would have married you." She spat in his face.

As she struggled to sit up and pull the torn remains of her robes around her, Gwydion walked in and said coldly, "If you are wise, you will keep your mouth shut, girl. You are useless to my uncle without your Sight, and no man of rank will marry you if they know you are damaged goods."

"Don't you think Math will notice that I can no longer See?" Goewin retorted, her eyes filled with hatred.

"Surely you can make up a few visions; fortune-tellers do it all the time," Gwydion said carelessly.

"Don't you care about the men and women who might die in the war if I feed the Order false information?" Goewin shouted.

"They can win the war without your visions," Gwydion sneered. "Divination is an all but useless gift, anyway, vague prophecies and mumbo-jumbo that never become clear until after the fact. You should be more concerned about your own fate, Goewin--an Oracle without Sight is useless as a mage, and you are useless to your family if you cannot make a good marriage."

Gwydion left the estate, taking Gilbert with him. "Just in case she's stupid enough to open her mouth, we had better make ourselves scarce till Uncle Math cools down. Now might be a good time to take a trip to Europe."

Despite Gwydion's threats, Goewin told Math about the rape, and he invoked a Geas spell to bring them back to Wales. It was almost impossible for a mage to invoke Geas without actually touching the subject of the spell, but Math was a powerful mage, and there were ties of blood between himself and his nephews, and he could have searched their rooms for personal belongings or strands of their hair to magnify the connection between them. Whatever he did, it worked. The two men stood unwillingly before their uncle, Gilbert shamefaced and Gwydion defiant. Goewin was there as well, gazing at them coldly, and Deirdre, who looked angry and tearful at the same time.

"You should both be sent to Azkaban for your crimes," Math said, his normally kindly gray eyes grim and merciless. "But I cannot let Goewin's reputation be destroyed because of your wrongdoing. I will marry her, to restore her honor, and give to her all my lands and wealth in compensation for your crime." Deirdre looked furious at that, but made no protest, so this agreement must have been arranged in advance between them. Gilbert had little time to be outraged at the thought of his uncle marrying his former beloved, because Math took out his wand and said, "You behaved no better than brute animals, so animals you will be for three years: one year as deer, one year as pigs, and the final year as wolves. I pray you will have learned to value your humanity at the end of that time, for it seems to me you value it little at present." Then Math raised his wand and shouted out an incantation.

Gilbert and Gwydion were transfigured into deer--not just their bodies, but their minds as well. As Gilbert stood there, balancing awkwardly on four legs, feeling his human intelligence slowly draining away, he heard the sound of a hound barking, one of the hunting dogs that lived on the estate. The sound filled him with terror as his animal instincts took over, and he bounded away for the shelter of the forest, followed closely by Gwydion.

For three years, he lived as an animal, with the deer's constant need to be on alert, never relaxing, always ready to run at the first sign of danger. His boar form was less timid, but he was still driven by animal hunger, rooting on the ground for food, and by the boar's quick temper, rushing to attack and defend his territory against intruders. Some small part of him remained human enough to tolerate Gwydion's presence by his side, though. And as a wolf he knew the need to hunt, the hunger of an empty belly when his prey eluded him, and the fierce joy when he took a down a deer, snapping his jaws around its throat, and the sweet taste of blood in his mouth. Some small part of him, which remembered the year he had spent as a deer, recoiled in horror, but that didn't stop the wolf from tearing into the animal's corpse and gulping down the sweet, still-hot flesh.

And there was another animal instinct...but Gilbert tried not to think about it. He might have rutted as an animal; he wasn't sure, but he thought he recalled a different kind of hunger being aroused in the boar as a wild sow crossed his path... Gilbert shuddered and shook his head, praying that there were no deer, pigs, or wolves running through the forest with Donner blood in their veins.

Gilbert's mind returned to the present. What good was his restored intelligence, he wondered bitterly, when it seemed that all it was good for was recalling memories that he would rather forget, and allowing him to brood over the Mark on his arm, a permanent reminder of one of the many foolish choices he had made over the years. The return of his sanity had brought him no happiness, only misery, and part of him longed to return to his former state of oblivion, which now seemed like more of a gift than a curse. He had briefly entertained thoughts of killing himself, but his brother would still be bound to the Death Eaters, and all Gwydion had sacrificed for him would be for naught. Besides, Gilbert suspected he was too much of a coward to actually carry out the act. A stronger man would have been able to resist the temptation of a beautiful girl, and a more honorable man would never have raped her. He was not sure now if he had really loved Goewin or if he had merely been infatuated. Either way, he had ruined both their lives, as well as Gwydion's, for nothing. Over the years, he had been filled with a sense of fear and hatred whenever he saw her, but now that he could think clearly once again, Gilbert realized that it was not Goewin, but himself, that he hated...

(To be continued in Part 3...)

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