Scars, Part 12

by Geri ([email protected])

My homepage: http://www.geocities.com/geri_chans_fics/index.html

Rating: NC-17 overall

Pairings: Snape/Lupin, Ash/Tsubasa; also a little Theodore/Blaise, Dylan/Hermione, and Aric/Takeshi

Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts; [] indicates song lyrics.

Disclaimer: Based on the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling; song lyrics are from "Scars" by Papa Roach. No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.

Warning: AU. This story contains a character from Half-Blood Prince, but does not follow the HBP storyline.

Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn, Phoenix Rising, Aftermaths, The Revenant, Ash's Story, and Summer Vacation III.

Summary: Tsubasa and the werewolves try to cheer up Ash; the Aurors investigate Rosalind's murder; the Quidditch tryouts are held at Hogwarts; and Lupin is invited to a baby shower.
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Lupin informed Tsubasa about Ash's mother's death, but he was unable to leave school early, as he had his own classes to teach, as well as Lukas's to cover. When school was over for the day, he made a quick stop at his quarters, then took the Floo over to the house where Ash lived.

Most of the werewolves in the pack were there, including Aric, and so was Takeshi, both of them still dressed in their St. Mungo's robes. "Smethwyck let us take off early," Takeshi said, smiling at his cousin although his eyes looked worried. "Not that it's done much good, since Ash has been holed up in his room for the past few hours, and refuses to come out, even though Lukas threatened to break down the door. I'm glad you're here; maybe he'll talk to you." Then he frowned as he caught sight of the large gourd jug that Tsubasa was holding. "Although I'm not sure that will help. He's probably already drunk enough Firewhiskey to make a normal human pass out cold."

Tsubasa had been on edge and worried about Ash all day, and the sight of his cousin's disapproving face--less handsome than Tsubasa's but beloved by Ash nonetheless--caused something inside in him to snap. "It's none of your business!" Tsubasa said sharply. "And who appointed you Ash's guardian, anyway?"

Aric growled, a low, threatening rumble, while Takeshi just stared at him wide-eyed, looking startled and a little hurt. "I know that Ash is an adult," Takeshi replied quietly. "I'm just concerned for him as a friend--and a mediwizard. Ash drinks too much when he's upset...well, he drinks too much when's happy, too, actually." Takeshi smiled ruefully. "He drinks too much, period. So far it hasn't really interfered with his work, although I'm sure he's gone to work with a hangover more than once. But it's not healthy to drink that much, even for someone with a werewolf's constitution, so I'm worried about him."

{Great, so on top of everything else, my would-be boyfriend is a borderline alcoholic,} Tsubasa thought to himself sourly. Aloud, he said, a bit guiltily, "I'm sorry, Takeshi. I was in a bad mood, but I shouldn't take it out on you."

"It's all right," Takeshi assured him. "I know you're worried about Ash, too."

"That's no excuse," Aric growled, but he looked placated by Tsubasa's apology.

"I understand your concerns, but believe it or not, I know what I'm doing," Tsubasa told his cousin. "He's going to drink no matter what you say or do, but maybe this--" He held up the jug. "--will at least lure him out of his room."

"I don't think that you really need alcohol to lure him out," Takeshi said with a smile, "but go ahead. Drunk or sober, I don't think he should be alone right now."

Tsubasa went up the stairs and knocked on Ash's door. "Ash? It's me, Tsubasa." He paused, and when there was no response, he continued, "I came to say that I'm very sorry about your mother."

There was another pause, and then he heard the sound of footsteps slowly shuffling towards the door, and then the click of a lock being turned, and the door swung open a crack to give him a glimpse of bloodshot eyes.

"Thanks," Ash said gruffly, and Tsubasa could smell the Firewhiskey on his breath; Takeshi, as usual, was correct--which could be a bit irritating at times. "But that's not necessary. I despised my mother, and I hadn't seen her in years, so I'm fine. It's not like I'm in mourning or anything."

Tsubasa didn't try to argue with him; he just shrugged and said casually, "Well, I guess this will go to waste, then."

He held up the jug and the door opened a little wider. "What is that?" Ash asked with cautious curiosity.

"Tengu-brewed sake," Tsubasa replied. "My friends in Japan gave it to me as a going-away present. I've been saving it for a special occasion, and it's a tengu custom to drink at a wake. Or at a wedding. Or at the birth of a child...and well, just about any time that they can find an excuse to throw a party."

The door opened wider and Ash gave him a faint but sincere smile. "They sound a lot like werewolves."

"In a way, they are," Tsubasa said with a grin. He held the jug up temptingly. "So, would you like to try some? It's supposed to be stronger than Firewhiskey."

"That's hard to imagine," Ash said skeptically.

"You'll never know unless you try," Tsubasa pointed out.

"That's true," Ash said, his smile growing a little wider. He swung the door open all the way and asked, "Would you care to come in and do a taste test?"

Tsubasa felt a sudden burst of heat in his groin as he remembered what had happened the last time he had stepped into the werewolf's bedroom. Repeating the experience would no doubt be pleasurable, but it probably wasn't a very smart idea at the moment.

"Why don't you come downstairs and we'll share it with the pack?" Tsubasa asked lightly. "It's more fun to drink with friends than to drink alone, isn't it?"

"Who sent you up here?" Ash sighed resignedly, leaning against the door frame. "Lukas? Takeshi?"

"No one sent me," Tsubasa said stiffly. "I came on my own, as a friend. Is it really so hard to believe that I would come of my own will to visit a friend whose mother has died?"

"I'm sorry," Ash said, smiling at him apologetically. "All the Firewhiskey has muddled my brain, I suppose. Besides, Takeshi would never send you up here with a bottle of alcohol. He thinks I drink too much."

Tsubasa loved his cousin, but he was really tired of hearing his name--at least when it came out of Ash's mouth. "Don't worry," he said sweetly, holding out his free arm. "I'll protect you from the big bad mediwizard."

All his annoyance vanished when Ash threw back his head and laughed--a real laugh that relaxed his drawn and tense features--and slipped his arm through Tsubasa's. "I'll hold you to that," he chuckled, with a wolfish, sharp-toothed grin.

The contact of Ash's arm against his own, even through the sleeves of their robes, caused Tsubasa's skin to tingle, and he was acutely aware of how close Ash was; he could almost feel the heat radiating off the werewolf's body. There was a little hitch in Ash's breath, and then the sound of his breathing grew louder and hoarser, and he knew that Ash could feel it, too.

{Maybe this wasn't the greatest idea in the world, either, but oh well,} Tsubasa thought to himself, and they made their way arm-in-arm down the staircase. The other werewolves greeted them with sly and speculative grins, and when Takeshi smiled at them, Tsubasa's grip on Ash's arm tightened reflexively, despite his misgivings. Ash looked startled for a moment, then smiled at him almost shyly, an expression that seemed out of place on his scarred and normally cynical face, but was all the more endearing for its incongruity. Maybe there was hope for them, after all...
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Several hours later, the jug of sake was empty, and there were several empty Firewhiskey and beer bottles strewn across the table and floor, not to mention several werewolves passed out on the floor. Takeshi must have taught Aric the turning-wine-into-water spell, because the young werewolf was still conscious, although he clearly hadn't turned all of the alcohol into water. His face was slightly flushed, and he looked a little tipsy as he pulled Takeshi onto his lap and nuzzled his neck.

"Not in public, dear," Takeshi said coyly, but he made no move to fend off Aric's advances.

Meanwhile, Ash was still conscious, but no longer able to stay upright, and he collapsed across the couch, his head conveniently landing on Tsubasa's lap. "Thass good stuff," he mumbled in a slurred voice. "Really is strong as you say."

Tsubasa supposed he ought to push Ash off his lap, but the werewolf looked so content that he didn't have the heart. Besides, there was no danger of things getting out of hand when Ash was so intoxicated that he could barely move. "Indeed it is," Tsubasa murmured, gently stroking Ash's hair, taking a guilty pleasure in the feel of it sliding through his fingers. "My tengu friends would be impressed that you are still conscious."

"Hmm," Aric said, temporarily halting his nuzzling to ponder the question of tengu sake versus Firewhiskey. "I'd say that the sake is a little stronger, but the Firewhiskey burns more going down your throat."

"Fair enough; it is called 'Firewhiskey,' after all," Tsubasa agreed. He'd sampled a little of both, not enough to get drunk, but enough to concur with Aric's assessment--and his cousin's joking statement that the Firewhiskey could be used a substitute for paint thinner.

Lukas rose to his feet unsteadily, saying, "Well, things seem to be under control here." He smiled at Ash and Tsubasa. "And if I don't get home soon, Narcissa's going to kill me."

"You're going to feel the sharp edge of her tongue as it is, coming home smelling of whiskey," Kyra said with a grin. She and her husband Brian were among the few werewolves left that were still conscious and mostly sober.

"That's true," Lukas sighed, then grinned back at her. "Ah well, I'd rather have a woman with a fierce temper than those proper pureblood women who just cringe and nod at whatever their husbands say."

"Lucky for you," Kyra said dryly as Lukas vanished through the fireplace in a puff of green smoke.

"Well, the party seems to be over," Brian yawned, gesturing at the unconscious and half-conscious bodies sprawled across the room. "Maybe we should call it a night and go to bed."

"Yeah, bed sounds great right about now," Aric growled in a low voice, nipping at Takeshi's neck.

"Aric!" he protested, laughing and blushing as he jumped to his feet. "Yes, I guess maybe we should get home before I need to put you on a leash."

"Um...Ash?" Tsubasa said to the occupant of his lap, who didn't look inclined to move.

Kyra got up, grabbed Ash by the shoulder, and gave him a firm shake. "Come on, Sleeping Beauty, upstairs to your own bed. Maybe Arthur gave you the day off, but the Professor here has to work tomorrow."

"But 'm comfy," he protested sleepily.

"Yes, I'm sure you're comfy, pack brother," Kyra said dryly. "But I think Tsubasa would like his lap back. Come on, up!"

She shook him again, and in response, Ash burrowed his face a little deeper into Tsubasa's lap--a little too close to his crotch for comfort, especially since he hadn't drunk enough alcohol to dampen his libido.

Tsubasa let out a little yelp and shouted, "Ash!" as he gave the werewolf a sharp rap on the head with his fist. "Watch where you're putting your face!"

Ash managed, with some effort, to raise himself off Tsubasa's lap. "Sorry," he said, rubbing his head and smiling sheepishly, although there was a glint of laughter in his eyes.

The other werewolves burst into laughter. "Ah, don't worry, Tsubasa," Kyra chuckled. "He's too drunk to get it up right now, anyway." She grinned at him slyly. "Or is that a disappointment?"

"Don' go insulting my manhood," Ash growled good-naturedly, lurching to his feet--and then almost keeling over, but Tsubasa managed to catch him before he fell. "Might need a little help getting to bed," he mumbled.

"You think?" Kyra asked sarcastically.

Ash managed to make his way upstairs by being half supported, half dragged along by Tsubasa. His hearing wasn't quite as good as a werewolf's, but Tsubasa overheard Kyra muttering to herself in surprise, "The pretty bird is stronger than he looks."

Ash collapsed onto the bed, and Tsubasa pulled off his shoes, but didn't try to undress him further. He was still aroused from the lap incident, and he didn't want to be tempted by the sight of a half-naked Ash. The fact that Ash reeked of alcohol and was only half-conscious put something of a damper on his desire, but not nearly as much as it should have.

"Thanks for coming," Ash told him. "I 'preciate it."

"You're welcome," Tsubasa replied.

"And...er...sorry 'bout the lap thing," Ash added, although his mischievous grin didn't look contrite at all.

Tsubasa couldn't help smiling back at him. "Next time," he whispered in a sultry voice, bending down to brush his lips against Ash's, "don't start something you can't finish." He laughed at the stunned look on Ash's face, then said goodnight, and returned to Hogwarts.

"Oh crap," he sighed as he stepped into his quarters. "I need another cold shower. I might as well just have the house-elves shut off the hot water altogether." But still, the memory of Ash resting peacefully in his lap brought a smile to his lips.
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While Dawlish was trying to gather evidence to prove that Ash had murdered his mother, Kingsley, Tonks, and Harry continued their own investigation. It was decided that Kingsley would interview Rosalind Madley's friends and family, since most of them were purebloods, or at least liked to claim that they were, and as such, were unlikely to be forthcoming with a half-blood like Tonks. As for Harry, the potential witnesses were likely to be intimidated by his celebrity as the Savior of the Wizarding World, even if they weren't offended by his Muggle blood, so Kingsley went off alone, somewhat to Harry's disappointment. Helping Tonks go through a stack of school records wasn't exactly exciting work, but on the other hand, interviewing a bunch of snooty purebloods didn't sound like much fun, either, so maybe he and Tonks had the better end of the deal, after all.

"This isn't exactly what I thought Auror work would be like," Harry sighed, as he set aside one folder and reached for another. Snape had sent them Rosalind Parker's school transcripts, as well as a list of students she had gone to school with. It was likely that Rosalind's lover had been a fellow Slytherin, but they couldn't be certain of that, so Snape had included the names of the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor students as well. And since they could not be certain that Rosalind's lover had been in the same year as her, Snape had sent along the records for every student that Rosalind might have conceivably crossed paths with, which covered about six years prior to and six years after her entry into Hogwarts, in addition to her yearmates--which all added up to a huge stack of paperwork. On top of that, Tonks had also gathered a list of people who had done business with Rosalind's father around the time that she had conceived Ash.

"What, Harry, did you expect flashy duels and midnight broomstick chases?" Tonks asked with a grin and a wink. "That does happen occasionally when you catch up to the suspect, but finding him in the first place usually involves a lot of tedious and boring investigating."

"Do you think that Snape sent all this paperwork over on purpose?" Harry asked glumly. "Surely this can't all be relevant! I think he must be getting back at me for every real and imagined slight that I committed against him at Hogwarts." Mostly imagined, Harry thought, but he admitted to himself that there were a few incidents that he really was responsible for--the time he had thrown a firecracker into a cauldron of Swelling Solution during Potions class as a distraction, for example, or the time he had spied in the Pensieve, or the time that he, Ron, and Hermione had knocked out Snape and helped Sirius escape when everyone had still thought that he was a murderer...although really, that shouldn't count since Sirius had been innocent. But the words "fair" and "rational" were rarely used to describe the Potions Master...

Tonks laughed and said, "I think that Severus was just being thorough, Harry. It's up to us to weed down the list of suspects. For starters, you can eliminate all the girls, since none of them could've had made Rosalind pregnant. And you can probably eliminate the boys who were younger than her, since it seems that she had Ash about a year after she left Hogwarts. It's just barely possible that she could have met a school-age lover for an assignation during a Hogsmeade visit or a Quidditch game, but it seems rather unlikely. You should go over their names just to be thorough, but you should concentrate mainly on the boys her age or a little older."

"That helps some," Harry admitted. "But I'm still not exactly sure what I'm looking for."

"Someone from a prominent pureblood family, who would be shamed by a werewolf son," Tonks replied.

"Doesn't that cover nearly everyone in Slytherin?" Harry pointed out.

"Well, right now, we're just drawing up a list of potential suspects, Harry," Tonks replied patiently. "When Kingsley comes back, we can cross-reference with his information and see if any of those names turned up in his interviews."

"Right," Harry said, blushing a little; he should've been able to figure that out for himself.

"Don't worry," Tonks said kindly, patting him on the shoulder. "You're still new at this, but you'll soon get the hang of it."

Harry smiled at her and determinedly began copying names onto a sheet of parchment, making notes here and there when he came across someone who might be a likely suspect, but his eyes were strained and his wrist was sore by the time that Kingsley returned.

"So what did you find out?" Tonks asked.

"Not much," Kingsley sighed. "I hope you two had better luck than I did. I learned from Mrs. Madley's friends that she was a very beautiful and ambitious girl when she was at Hogwarts, but no one seemed to know whom her lover might be."

"Surely such a beautiful girl would have had at least a few boyfriends," Tonks said.

Kingsley smiled wryly. "It seems that she aimed above her station, always setting her sights on the boys of highest rank, but they would have nothing to do with her, because her blood wasn't pure enough. The Parkers claim to be purebloods, but there are a few unexplained gaps on the family tree that make them suspect in the eyes of the 'real' purebloods. The friends gave me a few names of boys she dated, but they were all short-term and not serious, at least according to the friends. We'll investigate further to be sure, but I don't think that any of these men are our suspect. What about you two?"

"Well, I noticed that there were several Death Eaters on the list of students that Snape gave us," Harry replied. "Amycus Carrow was in Slytherin, and the same age as her..."

"Ugh," Tonks said, shuddering in revulsion. "I remember him; a squat, lumpy fellow who looked like a toad, and had the most disgusting leer. I can't imagine that any woman would willingly let him touch her."

"An ambitious woman who cares more about his money and rank than his looks might," Kingsley said dryly. "But Carrow is dead. One of the werewolves snapped his neck during the final battle, and good riddance. I suppose it's possible that a family member could have taken revenge for him, but it seems like a remote possibility at this point. Go on, Harry."

"Another Death Eater, Jugson, was also in her year, and Macnair was a year above her," Harry continued. "And another one, Travers, was six years above her, but since she'd only have known him for one year, when she was a first-year and he was a seventh, it doesn't seem likely that he could be her secret boyfriend." He frowned thoughtfully. "Although I guess that they could have met again after she graduated. Um, and let's see, Avery and Nott were five years below her, but I don't think that she would have been having an affair with anyone that young."

"Good work, Harry," Kingsley said. "A Death Eater would certainly have motive to cover up the fact that he had a child with impure blood. The problem is that they're all dead or in prison, so they couldn't have murdered Rosalind personally."

"But like you said, a family member could have killed on their behalf," Tonks pointed out. "By the way, is someone still keeping an eye on the Macnair twins?"

Kingsley frowned. "No, Dawlish pulled them off surveillance duty, saying it was a waste of time and he needed someone to guard Alden Madley. And they weren't much good, anyway, since the Macnairs seemed to catch on pretty quick that someone was watching them. They've behaved themselves publicly, and there hasn't been any suspicious Floo activity, but who knows where they might be Apparating to when no one's looking? We can't spy inside their mansion. I hear that they visit their father regularly, so he could have given them orders to kill Mrs. Madley, but we'd need some solid proof in order to get an arrest warrant or even just a warrant to search the mansion."

"Snape said that Macnair loved his children and didn't want to put them in danger," Harry said thoughtfully. "Isn't ordering them to kill someone pretty dangerous? They'd be arrested if they were caught, and they could have been attacked by the werewolf that they used as an assassin."

"Good point," Kingsley conceded. "Although if they're loyal children, they might have decided to protect their father's honor on their own, without his knowledge or consent. We'll definitely keep the Macnairs on our suspect list, but I think it's more likely that Ash's father, whomever he is, would have planned the murder by himself. He'd want as few people as possible to know of his disgrace."

"Even his family?" Harry asked.

"In some cases, especially his family," Kingsley replied solemnly. "His own family might well turn against him if he brought dishonor upon them. You saw how quick most of the Death Eaters' families were to distance themselves from their disgraced relatives."

"Speaking of Death Eaters," Tonks said, "I have a Death Eater on my list, too. Rosalind's father was--and still is--an editor at WhizzHard Books."

"Didn't they publish 'Quidditch through the Ages?'" Harry asked.

"Yes, which did impress some of Rosalind's classmates, although not the ones that she really hoped to impress," Kingsley replied. "Mr. Parker never mentioned anything about working with a Death Eater, though."

"Probably doesn't want to admit to guilt by association," Tonks said. "But years ago, around the time that Rosalind would have conceived Ash, WhizzHard did publish a history on wizard genealogy that was actually a thinly-veiled treatise on pureblood superiority. And guess who wrote it? Augustus Rookwood!"

"Rookwood?" Harry asked, startled. "Isn't he...well...old? Old enough to be her father, surely!"

Tonks shrugged. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time that a wealthy older man seduced a girl young enough to be his daughter. That might explain why he never married her, since he was already married to someone else. And I believe that his son is about Rosalind's age."

Harry scanned his list, then began leafing through the school records. "I don't see a Rookwood on the list of students."

"I think his son went to Durmstrang," Kingsley replied. "Well, Rookwood's in prison, too, but I'll check on the son. Rookwood's family has publicly disavowed him and claimed that they had no knowledge of his Death Eater activities, but that might just be for show. I can talk to Mr. Parker again, see if he remembers Rookwood or his son being friendly with Rosalind, but even if he did, I'm not sure that he'd tell me." Kingsley scowled. "Mrs. Madley's friends seemed sad that she was dead, or were at least courteous enough to pretend to be sad, but her family acted like her death was nothing but a huge inconvenience for them. They complained about how she disgraced them, first by bearing a child out of wedlock, and then by marrying a Mudblood, although apparently that was slightly better than being an unwed mother. 'And even in death, she has to draw scandal down upon us,' her father complained. Not one of them shed a single tear that I could see, or voiced any concern about seeing the murderer brought to justice; all they cared about was their reputation. Now, it's true that Rosalind Madley appears to have been a shallow and selfish woman with few redeeming qualities, but still, no matter who you are or what you've done, your own flesh and blood ought to mourn you when you're dead. Even Ash, as much as he hated his mother, showed more reaction to her death than her parents and her brother did."

"That seems sad," Harry said quietly. "Even if she wasn't a nice person, I can't help but feel a little sorry for her."

Kingsley sighed and rubbed the top of his bald head, as he often did when he was distracted. "Well, her daughter must mourn her, at least. By all accounts, she was a good mother to her daughter, if not to her son."

"What about Alden Madley?" Tonks asked. "Did you find out anything about their marriage, if things were bad enough that he might want to kill his wife?"

"Well, Alden Madley has an alibi for the night of the murder," Kingsley replied. "Although if he hired an assassin, he wouldn't have needed to be in England at the time. The people I talked to all said that Alden Madley was completely smitten with his wife when they first wed, but things gradually began to cool off after a couple of years--I suppose he must have realized that she only married him in order to gain a father for her son and make herself respectable again. Their acquaintances say that their relationship was cool and distant, but not particularly rancorous--the way many arranged marriages often turn out. Despite the state of their marriage, there's no evidence that either Mr. or Mrs. Madley was having an affair, and everyone agrees that they were both loving parents to their daughter. Of course, it's possible that the stress of recent events could have caused Madley to snap, and if he abused Ash as a child, he's certainly capable of violence, but still...his outburst in the morgue seemed genuine. If he was faking it, the man's a great actor."

"Well, it still seems a bit suspicious to me," Tonks said skeptically. "The marriage has been on the outs for years, but suddenly he turns into the hysterical, grieving widower when his wife dies?"

"Emotions can remain pent-up for years, but yes, I have a few doubts, too," Kingsley agreed. "Unfortunately, he refused to talk to me once he figured out that I was looking for a suspect other than Ash, and Dawlish backed him up."

"Dawlish!" Tonks said disgustedly. "And after he said he would be more open-minded in the future after being wrong the last time--what a hypocrite!"

"Did he really say that?" Harry asked, finding it hard to believe.

"Hmm...well, no, actually he said something about being careful to investigate his cases more thoroughly in the future, but it amounts to the same thing," Tonks replied. "He isn't doing a proper investigation; he's only focusing on Ash without looking for any other suspects."

"It just doesn't make sense to me," Harry said, shaking his head. "If Ash wanted to kill his parents, why wouldn't he have done it long ago, after he'd first been turned, instead of waiting so many years to get his revenge?"

Kingsley shrugged. "Well, I suppose Dawlish would say that Ash tried to forget about the past, but the newspaper article and his stepfather's visit to the Ministry provoked him and stirred up old feelings of hatred. Personally, while I believe that Ash is capable of killing under the right circumstances, I think that he would go about it in a much smarter fashion. Before he joined the Ministry, he was a smuggler, and a very successful one, which means that he was good at eluding the law. I think he'd try to set up a better alibi for himself, and he certainly wouldn't kill his mother in a way that would make it obvious that a werewolf had done it."

Harry wasn't sure that Kingsley's theoretical picture of Ash as a clever killer was really a vote of confidence, and judging by Tonks's ironic little smile, she felt the same way. "Did you find out if the Madleys had any other enemies who might want to harm them?" he asked, changing the subject.

Kingsley shook his head. "Alden Madley has a few business rivals that he's offended, but none so badly that they would want to kill him or his wife. As for Rosalind, she seems to be a nonentity. No one except her family seems to care enough about her to hate her. I might suspect her parents of wanting to get rid of their problem daughter, except that they wouldn't have done it in such a sensational manner. They would have done it quietly, maybe try to make it look like natural causes."

"So basically, we're back to square one," Tonks sighed.

"Give us the rest of the names, Harry," Kingsley suggested. "Anyone else stand out to you?"

"Not really," Harry said, wishing he had something more to offer. "There are a number of prominent pureblood names on the list, though. Let's see...there was a Bailey Flint in Rosalind's year, and the Flints are a pretty important family, right? Snape made Marcus Flint Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team several years ago, after all."

"Bailey Flint?" Kingsley asked, sounding startled. "No, you can cross him off your list, Harry. He died years ago, during the first war. I don't know all the details, but I believe that he was a victim of the Death Eaters."

Harry nodded and continued reciting names. "Montague...Baddock...Davis...Warrington...Bulstrode..." When he finished with the Slytherin names, he went over the Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw names, just to be sure that he hadn't missed anything.

"Well, nothing rings a bell," Kingsley sighed. "All right, we'll start investigating, starting with the Death Eater families and the most prominent Slytherins. We'll see if any of them have been hanging around Knockturn Alley recently...that's where most people go to find killers for hire. I don't think there would be many rogue werewolves hanging around so close to Lukas's pack, though..."

"Maybe Lukas might have an idea of where the rogues might be found," Tonks said. "Or Takeshi might, if they come to the clinic to get Wolfsbane Potion."

"Good idea," Kingsley said approvingly. "All right, let's get to work." He smiled sympathetically at Harry. "I'm afraid that this is going to involve a lot of tedious legwork, Harry."

Harry repressed a groan and said gamely, "Sure, Kingsley; it's all part of the job, right?" But inwardly, he was wondering why he had ever thought that being an Auror would be an exciting job.
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The investigation wasn't just tedious; it was frustrating. They reviewed hours of Floo logs for suspicious activity, but found none, but it was difficult to know what they were looking for. Certainly no one had traveled by Floo anywhere near the Madleys' residence on the night of the murder. Potential witnesses in Knockturn Alley were all closemouthed and leery of talking to Aurors; "I didn't see nothing" seemed to be the most common response to any question they were asked.

They didn't even bother talking to the potential suspects. "It's a waste of time at this point, until we narrow the list down," Kingsley told Harry. "No one's going to just admit to fathering Ash or killing Rosalind Madley. We need more specific information, so we know what questions to ask."

Harry thought that Ash's friend Takeshi Kimura would be more helpful, but he seemed strangely reluctant. "Patient records are confidential; you know that," the mediwizard told Kingsley when he asked for the names and addresses of any werewolves who frequented the clinic who were not part of the pack belonging to Master Diggory.

"Damn it, Kimura, it's your friend that I'm trying to save from being falsely arrested for murder!" Kingsley snapped.

"I know that!" Takeshi retorted. "Ash is one of my best friends; don't you think that I want to help him? But if the werewolves find out that I sent Aurors after them, they'll never come back to the clinic, which means that they'll stop taking their Wolfsbane Potion, which in turn puts them and everyone else in the wizarding world at risk! You have no idea how hard it's been to win their trust, to convince them that the Distribution Program isn't some kind of trick to capture them or put them on a secret Registry!"

"Look, I know that you've been doing good work here," Kingsley said, fighting to keep his temper under control. "But how much good do you think it will do if Dawlish manages to convict Ash of the murder? Setting aside the issue of your best friend rotting in prison for a crime he didn't commit, the bad publicity will drastically affect every other werewolf in the wizarding world. The Wizengamot might even force Arthur to repeal the equal rights bill and reinstate the Werewolf Registry!"

The mediwizard sighed wearily. "Even if I wanted to, I don't think that I could be of much help to you, Mr. Shacklebolt. There are only a few werewolves who come to this clinic that aren't part of Lukas's pack, and they won't give me their addresses. They're paranoid about their friends and neighbors and colleagues finding out about their lycanthropy, and they don't dare have the potion owled to their homes, or even a post office box. They come and pick it up personally every month, usually just after opening or just before closing, when there aren't many people around, and they're very secretive and furtive. I only know their first names, which might or might not be real."

Kingsley sighed irritably. "Well, did any of them behave strangely this month, seem frightened or act excited or say they'd come into a lot of money?"

"You're thinking that one of them might have been coerced or bribed?" Takeshi asked. He thought it over, then shook his head slowly. "No, there was nothing that seemed out of character. If I hear of anything, I'll let you know."

"Why don't these werewolves want to join Master Diggory's pack?" Harry asked curiously.

"The werewolves in Lukas's pack had nothing to lose," Takeshi explained, smiling sadly. "They had already lost their homes, families, and jobs, so they were grateful to find a place to belong. These other independent werewolves still have families and jobs, which they desperately want to keep, so they don't want anyone to find out about their lycanthropy. Despite the equal rights bill, most people are still biased against werewolves."

"Do you know of somewhere that the suspect might have gone to find a rogue werewolf?" Tonks asked. "Knockturn Alley would normally be the obvious place, but none of the pack werewolves were approached by anyone, and they would probably have spotted an outsider hanging around in their territory."

"Well, most of the rogues are living quietly, trying to pass as human, which makes them hard to track down," Takeshi replied. "They hate and fear the part of them that is wolf, so I don't think that any of them would willingly take wolf form to kill someone, not even for a significant bribe, but I suppose it's possible that one of them might have been coerced. By the Imperius, perhaps, or a loved one taken hostage. But as I said, none of the werewolves that I deal with seemed frightened or upset, as if they were under duress. A few rogues live among the Muggles, because it's easier to hide your lycanthropy from people who don't believe in werewolves. And there are rumors of rogues who have gone feral and live in the wild far away from civilization, but I don't know whether they're true or not." He named a few places where the "feral" werewolves were rumored to live, mainly areas remote enough that a werewolf might go undetected by the nearest village, or places where people feared to venture because they had a Dark reputation, like the Forbidden Forest.

Kingsley dutifully wrote down the information, although he didn't look thrilled at the prospect of tromping through a remote Dark forest to look for a werewolf who might or might not be there. "There's one more possibility," Takeshi added, almost as an afterthought, as the Aurors were about to leave. "Some werewolves were committed to institutions by their families--a convenient way to get rid of an inconvenient relative who might otherwise disgrace the family."

"You mean...like a madhouse?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"They're called 'sanatoriums' or 'private hospitals,' but they're essentially prisons," Takeshi replied, grimacing. "That sort of thing is forbidden now under the equal rights bill, but I'm sure that there were many werewolves who were committed before it went into effect."

"But can't they be freed now that the law has changed?" Harry demanded, aghast at the thought of werewolves still being imprisoned after they were supposedly decreed "equal". He knew that the wizarding world had changed for the better after Voldemort had been defeated, but sometimes it felt like things had hardly changed at all.

"The ones that we could find were freed or at least transferred to a better facility, where they could get proper care," Takeshi said softly, a sad and bitter look in his eyes. "You see, after years of confinement in a small cell, most werewolves go mad or kill themselves--or both. But most of these sanatoriums pride themselves on being 'discreet,' which means that they're very secretive, and try to keep their locations--and in fact, their very existence--hidden from the authorities and the public at large. But the information is quietly passed on, in whispered rumors, among the families of purest blood and highest rank, and of course, wealth--because a place in one of these institutions costs a small fortune. Not so much for the room and board of your inconvenient relative, but for the staff's 'discretion'."

"So the assassin could have come from one of these institutions?" Tonks asked.

"Possibly," Takeshi said with a shrug. "His family wouldn't miss him, because they'd never expect to see him again. The main problem would be in actually finding the place. An institution that would lock someone up for money could just as easily be bribed to free them, although it would cost a huge amount of money, maybe twice the original fee. Or the murderer could have found a way to break the werewolf out of the institution. The staff would hardly be able to report an escape or kidnapping to the authorities, since they're operating illegally, not to mention the fact that all the publicity would scare off their clients."

"Hmm, that sounds like a good lead," Kingsley said, sounding pleased. "Do you know where I can find any of these institutions?"

"If I knew that, I would already have turned them in to the Ministry," Takeshi replied.

"Of course," Kingsley sighed. "It couldn't possibly be that easy."

The mediwizard smiled at him sympathetically. "But you could ask the families of 'purest blood and highest rank'."

"You don't mean Professor Snape, do you?" Harry groaned.

Takeshi chuckled. "There are other old pureblood families besides the Snapes, but I doubt that the others would be inclined to share that sort of information with the Ministry. Well, Sirius would, but he doesn't have the information. His mother's portrait might know, but she would never tell it to her black-sheep son. You could try Narcissa Malfoy--I mean, Diggory--but the best place to start would be with Professor Snape and his mother. The Death Eaters might have found recruits or victims in such places, and well...I've never asked him about the details, but at some point, he would have had to test the Wolfsbane Potion on actual werewolves when he was developing it. He would have had to have found test subjects somewhere." Harry swallowed hard, wondering if those "test subjects" had been willing volunteers. Meanwhile, the mediwizard continued, "And Lady Selima knows almost everything there is to know about the wizarding world, particularly pureblood secrets and scandals."

They met with Snape at Hogwarts, and he gave them the names and locations of a couple of sanatoriums, although he said that Dumbledore had seen to it that the werewolves who had served as his test subjects were quietly set free in exchange for their help. "It's a good idea, though," Snape grudgingly conceded. "I hadn't stopped to consider that the murderer might have recruited his assassin from one of those places. Naturally the werewolf would agree to just about anything to win his or her freedom."

"Her?" Harry asked, startled. It hadn't occurred to him that the killer might be a woman.

Snape smirked at him condescendingly. "There's no reason why a woman can't be just as cruel and vicious as a man, Potter. You of all people should know that--remember Bellatrix Lestrange?"

He was right, but he didn't have to be such a jerk about it, Harry thought disgruntledly. They paid a visit to Snape Manor next, and Lady Selima was much politer than her son, but only moderately helpful.

"I have heard of such places, of course," she said coolly. "But I have never had cause to make use of them, so I do not know of their exact locations. However, I have heard that if someone leaves a message and a fee of one-hundred Galleons at a certain drop box, they will be contacted by a go-between who can put them in touch with one of these facilities."

Selima calmly paused to sip a cup of tea, and Kingsley asked impatiently, "Well, where can we find this drop box, then?"

"You must understand, Mr. Shacklebolt, that the power I have built up as the Lady of the Snape family lies mainly in my ability to gather information," Selima said. "If it becomes common knowledge that I am spilling pureblood secrets to Ministry agents, then no one will share information with me, and I will lose my precious commodity."

"We'll be very discreet, Lady Selima," Tonks promised. "We won't tell anyone where we got the information from."

"It's still a risk," Selima replied. "If I do this for you, what can you offer me in return?"

"You'd be helping one of your son's friends!" Kingsley snapped.

"If I am not mistaken, he is actually Professor Lupin's friend, not my son's," Selima replied, her voice still cool and composed. "He is a stranger to me; why should I go out of my way to help him?" As Tonks frowned and Kingsley fumed, Selima smiled slyly. "Well, I suppose that I could allow one of you..." Her eyes drifted from Kingsley to Tonks to Harry. "...to owe me a favor. Mr. Potter, perhaps?"

Harry wasn't too keen on owing a favor to Snape's mother, but he wanted to help Ash. "Well..." he said hesitantly.

"Yes, we could do you a favor!" Kingsley snapped. "For example, we won't tell your new best friend Mrs. Weasley how uncooperative you're being. This particular werewolf is a personal friend of Arthur Weasley, and I'm sure that the Minister and his wife would be most distressed to learn that you refused to help us."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Shacklebolt?" Selima asked, but she looked amused rather than angry. "Well played, but a good pureblood should phrase his threats more subtly."

"What can I say? I'm a disgrace to my race," Kingsley said sarcastically.

Harry was struck by a sudden burst of inspiration. "But Lady Selima," he said earnestly, "you won't be trading something for nothing. You'd be trading information for information."

"Oh?" Selima asked, sounding intrigued.

"The Professor thinks that Ash's father is a very high-ranking pureblood," Harry replied. "Your information could help us find out his identity. Isn't that a piece of information worth knowing?"

Selima laughed, looking surprised. "Very clever, Mr. Potter! But if this mysterious father is the true murderer, as Severus believes, his identity will soon be known to everyone when you arrest him."

"If we arrest him," Kingsley said, emphasizing the "if". "Which we won't be able to do without any leads. And of course there is the possibility that Ash's natural father has nothing to do with the murder."

"Even if the information is made public, wouldn't it still be worth it to see a rival family humbled?" Tonks cajoled.

"Very well," Selima agreed with a smile. "Since you are all so persuasive, I will help you on the condition that you do not tell anyone that I gave you the information, and that you share the name of Mr. Randolf's father with me, regardless of whether or not he turns out to be the culprit."

"Oh, all right," Kingsley said, giving in with ill grace.

After they left Snape Manor, Kingsley grumbled, "I sure hope this information was worth it."

"It's nothing she couldn't find out on her own anyway," Tonks said with a shrug. "If Ash's father is guilty, it will make front page news in the Daily Prophet, and even if it turns out that he's innocent, she could probably coax the information out of Lupin or Lukas."

"She gave in pretty easily," Harry mused.

"She probably intended to help us all along," Tonks said with a grin. "It just goes against her pureblood principles to do something altruistic; it might ruin her reputation."

"Like mother, like son," Kingsley sighed, rolling his eyes. "All right, let's send a message to this drop box, and see if we can track down these sanatoriums."

"Um...by the way, where are we getting the hundred Galleons from?" Harry asked.

"Oh right," Tonks said. "We'll have to fill out a Request for Special Expenses form, and write a justification for why we need the money, and..."

Kingsley and Harry groaned in chorus.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Snape and Lupin were both worried about the murder of Rosalind Madley, for different reasons. Lupin was concerned about Ash, of course, while Snape was more worried about the effect that the murder would have on public opinion, which could in turn affect the equal rights bill that had given the werewolves their freedom. A repeal of the law would adversely affect Lupin, the one werewolf who mattered most in the world to Snape.

At the moment, there was little that they could do except to hope that the Aurors would find the killer quickly. So the annual Quidditch team tryouts provided a welcome distraction from their worries.

No one in Slytherin was surprised when Snape appointed Dylan as both Captain and Seeker of the Slytherin team. He was Snape's foster son and protege, after all, but there was no grumbling about nepotism, because everyone was aware that Dylan was the best flyer in Slytherin, and possibly the entire school.

Dylan promoted the reserve team Chasers, Malcolm Baddock and Brad Doherty, to regular status. Damien Pierce remained in his original Chaser position, and Dylan picked Brandon Harper to replace Millicent Bulstrode as Keeper, and a couple of younger Slytherin boys, Vaisey and Urquhart, to replace Crabbe and Goyle as Beaters. He also chose a few reserve players, Pansy's little brother Patrick among them.

"Harper is not as skilled a Keeper as Bulstrode was, but he shows potential," Snape observed as he watched from the stands with Lupin. "I believe he'll do well enough once he gains some experience. Urquhart and Vaisey aren't as strong as Crabbe and Goyle, but they're a lot brighter, so I suppose that evens things out. It will take some time to get the new team members properly trained, but the Chasers are all experienced and work well together, and of course Dylan will make a fine Seeker. I'd say we have a pretty strong team and a good chance of taking the Quidditch Cup again this year--especially since Potter has graduated." Snape smirked. "McGonagall and I are wagering our annual bet, of course."

"You shouldn't count your chickens before they're hatched, Severus," Lupin chuckled. "You never know, there might be a budding prodigy on one of the other teams. Perhaps we should scout out the competition?"

"Hmm, that's not a bad idea, Lupin," Snape conceded, so they discreetly observed the other Houses' tryouts from the Astronomy Tower with Professor Sinistra's telescopes. Ravenclaw had a decent team, but Snape was confident that their Seeker was no match for Dylan. Their Keeper was quite skilled, though, so he made a mental note to advise Dylan that he would need to put some extra work into the Chasers' strategies. Hufflepuff's new Seeker was relatively weak, but they might become a threat again next year when Tristan Ames's ban on playing Quidditch would be lifted.

But the team that Snape was most interested in, of course, was his arch-rival Gryffindor, and he was curious to see whom they would choose to replace Potter. It would certainly be a daunting task for whoever was going to replace the Savior of the Wizarding World. He thought that perhaps Ginny Weasley would take over as Seeker, since she had performed respectably in that position a couple of years ago when Umbridge had banned Potter from the team, even if she lacked the golden boy's brilliance in the air. It was the only thing that Potter was truly brilliant at, Snape thought to himself a bit sourly. He had defeated Voldemort, of course, but that had been due more to fate and the connection forged between them by the Dark Lord's rebounded Killing Curse than to any particular skill of Potter's. Then Snape gloated a little, because with Potter gone, he was certain that Slytherin would have no difficulty defeating Gryffindor this year.

But to his surprise, Ginny decided to remain a Chaser, and held tryouts to fill the vacated Seeker position. "It's the most prestigious spot on the team, and I would have thought as the new Captain, she'd elect to take it herself," Snape told Lupin as they watched from the Tower.

Lupin smiled and said, "You're thinking like a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor, my love. Ginny is a practical and sensible girl, and she'll do what is best for the team, not just what is best for her personally. Besides, she mentioned once that she actually preferred being a Chaser."

"'Sensible' isn't really a Gryffindor trait," Snape muttered sarcastically. "It isn't really a Weasley trait, either, come to think of it, although I'll admit that Miss Weasley has more common sense than all her brothers combined. Besides, none of the potential Seekers so far appear to be more capable than Miss Weasley."

A great many Seeker hopefuls had turned out for the tryouts, but most of them were rather lacking in talent. A few were competent, and one girl, Demelza Robins, was quite nimble in the air and showed a particular talent for dodging Bludgers, but her skills were more suited to the position of Chaser than Seeker.

Snape was feeling rather smug until the last hopeful applicant took to the air, and Snape saw a very familiar little dark-haired girl flitting through the air like a hummingbird, determinedly keeping pace with the Snitch despite its sudden and erratic movements. What was even more impressive was that she was riding a rather old Comet broomstick--a decent brand, but nowhere near the quality of a Nimbus or Firebolt.

"Is that...Allegra Zabini?" Snape asked incredulously.

"It certainly looks like her," Lupin replied cheerfully. "She appears to be doing quite well, don't you think?"

"I had no idea she could fly like that!"

"Oh, I heard that she'd done quite well in her first-year flying lessons," Lupin said casually. "Although she doesn't quite have the natural genius of someone like Harry or Tristan. But she is a talented flyer, and it looks like she did a lot of practicing over the summer."

"Practicing?" Snape echoed. He had a vague recollection of Dylan saying something about giving Allegra a few flying lessons during summer vacation, but he had thought nothing of it at the time.

Snape confronted Dylan and Blaise later in the dungeon, and Dylan sheepishly confirmed, "Yes, I did help her out a bit over the summer."

"You're not supposed to be helping the competition, Mr. Rosier!" Snape said testily.

"I'm sorry, sir," Dylan said, still grinning sheepishly. "I knew she wanted to try out for the team, but I never thought she'd make Seeker. She's only a second-year, after all. I thought maybe she'd make the reserve team at best."

"Dylan only gave her a few lessons, sir," Blaise said apologetically. "She really worked hard practicing on her own."

"Well, at least she'll be hard-pressed to keep up with Dylan on that old Comet," Snape muttered to himself.

"Um...well..." Blaise said, smiling nervously. "My dad let her have a used broomstick from the junk shop, but my grandfather promised that he'd buy her a new one if she actually made the team."

"Please, not a Firebolt!" Snape groaned.

"Oh no," Blaise hastily assured him. "Grandfather's new book has made him 'a nice bit of pocket change,' as he says, but nowhere near enough to buy a Firebolt. He was thinking more like a Cleansweep."

"It's too bad that Miss Zabini wasn't Sorted into Slytherin, after all," Snape sighed. "I never thought she'd show such a talent for Quidditch."

"I'm sorry, sir," Blaise apologized.

"You're not responsible for what House your sister was Sorted into, Zabini, unless you urged her to go into Gryffindor," Snape said crossly.

"Sor...I mean, yes, sir," Blaise mumbled.

Lupin chuckled and whispered, "Remember that you're his colleague now, Blaise, not his student."

"I'll always feel like a student around the Professor," Blaise whispered back, smiling ruefully.

"You know, it's only a game, Severus," Lupin said mildly. "I think you're taking this a bit too seriously."

Snape scowled at him. "It's 'only' a game in the sense that a werewolf is 'only' slightly inconvenienced by the full moon. It's a matter of House pride. Besides, I have ten Galleons riding on our first match against Gryffindor."

"Don't worry, Professor," Dylan said with a confident grin. "I won't let you down! Allegra's good, but she's no match for me. She has a lot of potential, but I've got the edge on her in experience." He winked at his foster father. "And I have a few tricks up my sleeve that I didn't teach her. The money is as good as yours, Professor!"

"That's the spirit!" Snape said, clapping him on the shoulder, and Lupin just shook his head and laughed.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, Aileen Pierce was planning a distraction of her own, unbeknownst to Lupin and Snape. "I was thinking that I'd like to have a shower for you, dear, since the baby is due in a couple of months," she said to Narcissa over tea one afternoon. "If you don't mind, I thought perhaps it could be a double shower since Professor Blackmore is pregnant as well."

"Why, that's very sweet of you, dear," Narcissa said. "Of course I wouldn't mind sharing a shower with the Professor. I think it's a lovely idea."

"Of course, it's a bit hard to picture Professor Blackmore as a mother," Aileen giggled.

"Well, I would have thought so, too," Narcissa laughed. "Except that she's been quite motherly towards me since the war ended, and to Draco and Harry, too, of course. She isn't as scary as we always thought she was when we were children...no, that's not quite true. She is still terrifying when she's angry, but I've found that there is a gentler side to her as well."

"Still, as much as I admire the Professor, I don't envy Sirius," Aileen said mischievously. "That must be quite a tempestuous relationship. That's all very well when one is a teenager, but it grows a bit wearisome after awhile."

"Oh, I don't know," Narcissa purred. "Tempestuousness has its place, in small doses."

"Well, I'd say that's obvious," Aileen replied, staring pointedly at Narcissa's rounded stomach. Narcissa blushed slightly, then both women burst into laughter.

"So who do you want to invite to your shower, dear?" Aileen asked in a more serious voice, picking up a quill and dipping it in a bottle of ink. "Your bridal attendants, I assume...let's see, aside from myself and Professor Blackmore, that would be Lady Selima, Delia Avery, and Gwendolyn Ames." She scribbled the names on a piece of parchment, then nibbled thoughtfully on the end of the quill. "Hmm...what about your niece, Nymphadora? I recall that she came to the wedding."

"Yes, that would be fine," Narcissa said. "I can't say that we're close, but we have dinner together from time to time with Sirius and the Professor, and she's been decent to me since the war ended." Narcissa flushed guiltily. "Even though my family had disowned Andromeda for marrying a Mudblood. She's very kind and good-natured, and not at all the type to hold a grudge."

"What about Andromeda, then?" Aileen asked hesitantly. Unlike her daughter, Andromeda was proud and stubborn, like all the Blacks, and not inclined to forgive easily. "Should I invite your sister to the shower?"

"I thought she was in America with her husband," Narcissa replied, surprised by the question. Andromeda's husband, Ted Tonks, had taken a guest teaching position at Salem a couple of years ago, tutoring select students in Metamorphmagery. According to Nymphadora, the move had been prompted by the return of the Dark Lord and Andromeda's fear of being targeted by the Death Eaters as a blood traitor. She had urged her daughter to accompany them, but Nymphadora had been stubbornly determined to remain in England and carry out her duties as an Auror and a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Oh, didn't you hear?" Aileen said. "They've just returned to England. I suppose they feel safe now that the Dark Lord has been defeated and all the Death Eaters have been rounded up, even the last remaining fugitive, Rabastan Lestrange. Although it's ironic that it turned out he was hiding in America after the war ended! Anyway, your sister is back, and I just thought...since you've made peace with Nymphadora, perhaps you would like to make peace with Andromeda, too?"

Narcissa bit her lower lip for a moment, her green eyes filled with anxiety and uncertainty and a touch of vulernability that made her look more like the frightened, homesick young girl Aileen had first met at Hogwarts, rather than the wife and mother she was now. "The question isn't so much whether I wish to make peace with Andromeda...it's whether Andromeda wishes to make peace with me. She was very angry when the family disowned her."

"But that was your parents' doing," Aileen argued. "You were still at Hogwarts when Andromeda ran off with Ted Tonks, after all. It isn't as if you disowned her personally."

"No, but..." Narcissa flushed. "She came to see me shortly after she eloped with Ted, and I said some pretty nasty things to her. She told me that if I wanted to be a good little pureblood daughter without a thought in my head of my own, then fine, she wouldn't ever bother me again. And we've never spoken a word to each other since that day."

"The Blacks can certainly hold a grudge, can't they?" Aileen asked, smiling wryly. "But then again, I never thought that you and Sirius would ever be on speaking terms, either, so let us hope for the best. We'll go ahead and send your sister an invitation, and let her decide whether she will come or not."

"Well...all right," Narcissa agreed, a bit doubtfully. She wasn't sure if that was really a good idea, but as usual, she deferred to Aileen's judgment. It had served her well enough in the past--it was thanks to Aileen that she was married to Lukas now, after all. It had been Aileen who had schemed to bring them together after Narcissa had been too afraid to even tell Lukas that she was pregnant with his child. Maybe she could manage to work a miracle with Andromeda, too.

"Very well, then," Aileen said briskly, adding Andromeda's name to the list. "Is there anyone else that you'd like to invite?"

"My list of friends has shrunk considerably since Lucius died," Narcissa said with an ironic smile. "Everyone that I care to invite is already on the list."

"What about the Professor, then?" Aileen asked. "Does she have any other friends that I should invite?"

"Hmm," Narcissa murmured, thinking it over. "She doesn't have many close friends, either. Perhaps you could invite Goewin Donner. They worked together in the Order of the Phoenix, and Goewin has a young daughter, so she can give the Professor a few pointers on child care." Narcissa grinned. "And perhaps give me a few reminders--it's been a long time since Draco was a baby. But I can't really think of anyone else to invite. I'd say that the Professor's closest friends are Severus and Remus."

"Well, should we invite Professor Lupin, then?" Aileen suggested.

"I don't really mind, but isn't a baby shower usually only for women?" Narcissa replied, looking puzzled.

"Yes, but isn't Lupin sort of like the wife in that couple?" Aileen asked brightly, just as Narcissa was lifting her teacup to her mouth.

Narcissa choked on her tea, coughing and gasping as droplets of tea sprayed from her mouth. "Don't say things like that when I'm drinking!" she complained, dabbing at her mouth and dress with a napkin.

"I'm serious!" Aileen protested innocently. "Lupin is kind and sensitive and good with children, and Severus...is, well...Severus. Surely you don't think that Severus is the wife?"

"Not all women are kind and sensitive and good with children," Narcissa said dryly. "Think of my sister Bellatrix. Besides, I'm not sure that it works that way. I don't think that either of them necessarily has to be 'the wife' or 'the husband'."

"Well, I don't know the proper terminology for same-sex couples, but I'm sure it amounts to the same thing, whatever they call it," Aileen said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "So shall we invite Lupin?"

"Oh, why not?" Narcissa laughed, since Aileen clearly had her mind set on the idea. It would make Professor Blackmore happy, and fortunately, Remus had a much better sense of humor than Severus, so he probably wouldn't take offense.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next day, Snape returned to his quarters after class to find Lupin chuckling to himself as he went through the mail. "Something amusing?" Snape asked.

Lupin held up a gold-embossed card and said with a grin, "I've been invited to a baby shower for Narcissa and Branwen. Aileen Pierce is throwing it."

"Aren't those things usually only for women?" Snape asked. "Aileen is no Death Eater, but she's a pretty traditional Slytherin, so I'm surprised to see her breaking with etiquette. Then again, she did encourage Narcissa to marry a werewolf, so I suppose she isn't all that beholden to tradition." Then he frowned and asked apprehensively, "I don't have to go to this party, do I?"

"Oh, don't worry, you aren't invited, Severus," Lupin replied casually.

Snape's frown deepened slightly as he tried to decide whether he should feel offended or relieved. "Not that I really mind, but why were you invited, then?" he asked.

Lupin chuckled again. "Apparently Aileen thinks that I'm 'the wife' in this couple, so I guess that qualifies me for the baby shower."

"WHAT?!" Snape bellowed.

"Well, it doesn't actually say so in the invitation, of course, but that's what she told Narcissa, and Narcissa told Lukas, and Lukas sort of let it slip to me," Lupin replied, still chuckling.

"She thinks you're 'the wife'?!" Snape asked incredulously.

"As you said, Aileen is rather traditional, so I suppose she can't help but try to categorize us in traditional roles," Lupin said blithely.

"Honestly, Lupin, aren't you the least bit offended by that?" Snape fumed. "The nerve of that woman! I've a good mind to fail that son of hers!"

"But Damien didn't do anything," Lupin protested.

"I know that, Lupin," Snape said peevishly. "But he's here at Hogwarts and Aileen isn't, and you know that Slytherins don't play fair."

"You will not fail Damien just because you're annoyed with his mother," Lupin said sternly.

"If you're the wife, does that make me henpecked?" Snape grumbled.

"So what do you think I should get for Narcissa and Branwen?" Lupin asked cheerfully. "Stuffed animals or baby clothes? Or maybe one of those Quidditch mobiles that Draco was working on?"

"You're not actually going to the shower, are you?!" Snape exclaimed indignantly.

"Why not?" Lupin said with a grin. "I was planning to get them baby gifts anyway, so why shouldn't I join in on the celebration?"

"Because...because...you're not a 'wife'!" Snape spluttered. "If you go along with Aileen's invitation, it's like you're saying that she's right about you being 'the wife'! For Merlin's sake, does she think you prance around wearing a dress and apron when we're at home alone together?!"

Lupin snickered. "Well, that's not really my cup of tea, but if the idea of it turns you on..."

"It's not funny, Lupin!" Snape snapped. "Is your Gryffindor brain too feeble to understand when you're being insulted?"

"Sev, you're taking this whole thing much too seriously," Lupin said dismissively. "It's just a party to celebrate our friends' happiness, and I intend to go and have a good time." As Snape continued to fume, Lupin smiled mischievously and added, "Besides, you do realize that if I'm not the wife, that would make you the wife, my dear? Or at least, if I decline the invitation, Aileen will assume that you must be the wife, since I'm not. She means well, but as you pointed out, she does think in rather narrow terms..." Snape just stared at him, a look of horror slowly spreading across his face. "Of course," Lupin continued sweetly, "if you really want to go to the shower, I don't mind being 'the husband'..."

"Oh, go to the bloody shower, already!" Snape growled, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Just leave me out of it! And keep Aileen Pierce away from me, or I might be tempted to turn her into a toad!"

Lupin laughed and flung his arms around Snape. "I love you, Severus," he said affectionately.

"Henpecked, that's what I am," Snape muttered to himself, then heaved a sigh of resignation and returned the embrace.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, the Macnair twins had not been idle, and were busy planning their own distraction for Snape, this one much less pleasant than a baby shower. Warren Macnair knocked on a door in a shabby apartment building in France, and it opened a crack as a handsome blond man peered out through it cautiously and said, "Yes?"

"Are you Sebastien Delauney, grandson of the former courtesan Philomela Delauney?" Warren asked.

"That depends on who's asking," the blond man replied warily.

Warren smiled and pulled a small velvet pouch out of his pocket. "Someone who has a business proposition to make," he said. "One that could be very profitable for you." He shook the pouch invitingly, and it made a soft jingling sound as the coins in it clinked against each other. "I'll pay you twenty-five Galleons just to hear me out, and the money will be yours to keep whether you agree to my proposition or not."

The blond man hesitated for a second, then smiled and swung the door open wider. "Very well, come in and I'll hear you out."

Chapter 13

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