FIC: Aftermaths, Part 44

[geri_chan]

Title: Aftermaths, Part 44
Rating: NC-17 overall, but most chapters are closer to PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin, Theodore/Blaise, and a few other minor pairings
Word count: ~8,220
Warning: AU; written pre-HBP
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn, Phoenix Rising
Summary: Selima receives an unexpected visit from her mother, and Harry is surprised to be invited to a dinner party at Snape Manor.

Part 43 (Previous chapters can be found under the aftermaths tag.)

***

"M-Mistress," Vorcher stammered nervously. "There is a guest waiting for you in the drawing room."

Selima looked up from the financial reports she was going over, a distracted frown on her face. "Who is it, Vorcher? I wasn't expecting anyone today." She glanced up at the clock and said, "Severus should still be at school..."

"No, Mistress," Vorcher said, "it isn't Master Severus. It is Mistress Bashir."

"What?!" Selima exclaimed, dropping the reports. "My mother?"

"Yes, Mistress," Vorcher replied, still looking nervous.

From the look on Vorcher's face, Selima guessed that her mother was not in a very good mood, and she had a pretty good idea why: Amos had turned down Cyril's offer of an out-of-court settlement, and Morrigan De Lacy had just officially filed a lawsuit at the Ministry on Cyril's behalf. Gossip always spread quickly in the wizarding world. Selima sighed and took a moment to compose herself, then headed downstairs to face the music.

"Good day, Mother; what a pleasure it is to see you," Selima said in the cool, impersonal tone she used with most people, her family included. "If you had told me you were coming, I would have had Vorcher prepare some tea. Vorcher--"

Sabra Bashir interrupted Selima before she could send the house-elf down to the kitchen to make some tea. "That will not be necessary, Daughter," she said in a cold voice. "I did not come here for tea." There were still remnants of great beauty visible in her face, spoiled not so much by her gray hair and wrinkles, but by the cold look in her eyes, and the sharpness of her features. While some people grew plump with age, Sabra had grown thinner; her face and body seemed to have been pared down to sharp planes and angles, which were matched by the knife-sharp edge to her voice.

"Then what did you come here for, Mother?" Selima asked, her face still blankly polite.

"Don't play games with me, girl!" Sabra snapped. "You know quite well why I have come. It is bad enough that your son is playing house with a werewolf, without you throwing fuel on the fire by acquiring a pet werewolf of your own!"

"If you are referring to Cyril Diggory, Mother," Selima replied coolly, "I am only helping the son of an old friend win back his rightful inheritance."

"Have you gone mad?" Sabra cried. "He is a werewolf! A beast cannot head a pureblood family! What's next, are you going to let Lupin take over the Snape family?"

Selima privately thought, with a touch of ironic amusement, that Lupin had--for all practical purposes--already taken over the Snape family, with the influence he held over both Severus and Theodore. But all she said was, "Of course not; Lupin has no Snape blood. But Cyril is a pureblood, the son of the eldest son of the Diggory clan--"

"He is a werewolf--by definition, his blood cannot be pure!"

Selima shrugged. "I suppose it depends on how you look at it, Mother. Cyril's parents were both purebloods, of old and respectable lineage."

"Not quite that pure, apparently, if the curse was hidden somewhere in his bloodline!" Sabra said spitefully.

"It is a matter for the courts to decide, Mother," Selima said, her voice still cool and calm. "I cannot see how it affects you."

"Cannot see how it affects me?" Sabra asked incredulously. "You bring disgrace upon your family by associating with this beast, by backing his claim to the title!"

"Severus is the head of my family now," Selima said, with just the faintest hint of bitter satisfaction in her voice. "And Lord Snape does not seem to feel that I am bringing disgrace upon the family."

"I was talking about the Bashirs!" Sabra shouted.

"I did my duty to the Bashir clan when I married Severin," Selima said, her voice now turning steely as well as cold--the tone of voice that always caused even her son the former Death Eater to turn pale, although Sabra's expression did not change. "I owe nothing more to them now. I am a Snape now, not a Bashir."

"Owe nothing?" Sabra cried furiously. "To the clan that gave you life? You sully our name with your actions, and I will not stand for it, even if Severus doesn't care!"

"No one can say that I have not done my duty to the clan of my birth," Selima said, still in that dangerous voice. Vorcher prudently retreated to the doorway, still close enough to respond promptly should his Mistress summon him, but--hopefully--out of spell range should the worst happen. The Mistress rarely did anything but give the object of her wrath a tongue-lashing (although, personally Vorcher would have preferred a real whipping to Lady Snape's verbal one), but she was terrible to behold on the rare occasions when she truly lost control of her temper. She had blasted a vase, a priceless (though admittedly ugly) five hundred year old Snape heirloom, into smithereens when she had read in the Daily Prophet that Master Severus and the werewolf were lovers. She had also, many years ago, temporarily turned her young nephew into a toad when he had not only insulted the portrait of a Snape ancestor, but defaced it by touching it with his grubby, chocolate-smeared hands. She had left him in that form for two hours, hidden beneath an overturned vase, while his family searched the house and grounds for him. She had finally relented and changed the boy back, if only because it was clear that Master Bashir wasn't going to leave without his son, and the Mistress didn't seem to enjoy her brother's company very much. Mistress had told the boy that she would turn him back into a toad permanently if he ever told his parents or anyone else what she had done, and as far as Vorcher could tell, the terrified boy had believed her threat and kept his promise to remain silent, even when his father scolded him for running off and hiding. Vorcher, the only other witness to the incident, had also kept silent, of course.

"The Bashirs benefitted greatly from the marriage I made to the Snape Lord," Selima continued. "Enough so that they retained their influence and their position as the wealthiest merchants in Britain even after Severin fell from grace and retired from the Ministry. The family wealth and holdings have increased at least tenfold since I sealed our alliance with the Snapes. You yourself told me on my wedding day that I belonged now to the Snape family, not the Bashirs, and bade me serve my husband well and give unto him all due loyalty and respect. Well, I have done so. The Bashir clan sold me in marriage to a man twice my age that I barely knew--a homely, arrogant, and ill-tempered man, I might add--"

"We married you to a great Lord of the pureblood elite!" Sabra retorted. "You should be grateful to us!"

"But I did my duty without a single word of complaint," Selima continued, ignoring the interruption. "I made the best of my marriage, and learned to respect my husband and see his good points. I obeyed him even when I did not agree with him. I invested Snape funds into Bashir businesses, to the benefit of both clans. I worked to repair the damage that both Severin and Severus did to the influence and reputation of the Snape family. I secured an heir and ensured that the Snape line would not die out when my ungrateful son refused to marry and sire a child as he should. All my life, I have done my duty, to my parents, and then to my husband, without complaint. Just this once, I will do something for me. For Anya's sake, I will see her son be made head of the Diggory family."

"For what?" Sabra spat. "Some girlish childhood friendship? Have you gone mad?"

It is not madness, Mother," Selima said coolly. "And although I am doing this for friendship's sake, it is not entirely without advantage to the Snape family. If my venture is successful, then the head of an old and wealthy pureblood family will owe the Snape family a great debt."

"And you will be regarded as a fool and a traitor if you fail!" Sabra said. "And the Diggorys are not so wealthy as they once were!"

Selima shrugged. "Not as wealthy as they once were, true, but Cyril still stands to gain a respectably-sized inheritance. And I am sure he will be able to increase his fortune with the business advice I intend to give him."

Sabra gave her daughter a hateful look. "The courts will never appoint a werewolf head of a pureblood family!"

"What you do not seem to understand, Mother," Selima said with a small, cool smile, "what most of the purebloods do not yet seem to understand, is that for better or worse, the balance of power has been altered since the war ended. I think Cyril will win his case in court, because he has powerful allies: the new Minister of Magic and Albus Dumbledore both count him as a friend. The Daily Prophet hailed him and his werewolves as heroes; some of the young people are beginning to regard them as glamorous and exciting."

"You seem to be growing infatuated with werewolves yourself!" Sabra snapped.

"Not at all," Selima replied. "I do not approve of my son's choice of lovers; I would much rather he settled down and married a nice pureblood girl. But since he will not, I will make the best of the inevitable. Remus Lupin, too, has powerful connections, the famous Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, among them. Potter and Dumbledore and Weasley are the new order, Mother, and those who fail to see that will find themselves falling by the wayside."

"I think you are only trying to justify your outrageous actions," Sabra retorted. "Severin would never have let you do this if he were still alive!"

"But he is not alive," Selima replied in an even voice. "And Severus, who is now Lord Snape, is the only person who has the right to criticize my actions." She silently added, {Though I would like to see him try!} Aloud, she said, "But by all means, feel free to take the matter up with him if you wish."

"I see now it is no surprise that Severus turned out the way he has, with a mother like you," Sabra said scornfully. "And look what has come of it--you don't even have a grandson of your own blood!"

"Blood of my blood or not, Theodore is still a better heir than your grandson!" Selima retorted in a waspish voice. "That spoiled brat can't even hold down a job given him by his own kinsman, and Ali is hardly the world's sternest taskmaster!"

"I will not stay here and be insulted any longer!" Sabra declared and left in a huff, pausing only long enough to say, "And don't come crying to me when your pureblood friends all turn their backs on you!"

"Not likely," Selima said to the empty room, then laughed, feeling almost giddy. It was strangely satisfying to finally tell her mother off, after being a dutiful daughter for so many years, although she supposed it was a bit petty of her, especially at her age. Maybe Severus was a bad influence, after all. That thought suddenly sobered her, as she wondered if Severus despised her as much as she despised her own mother. Was the way Selima's own parents had arranged her marriage to Severin, not asking for her permission or even her opinion, really any different from what she had planned for Severus? Her conscience stirred uneasily, a most unfamiliar feeling for a proper and practical Slytherin like Selima. She tried to assuage her guilt by telling herself that it was not the same thing; she had done her duty to her family, after all, as unpleasant as it had seemed at the time, and Severus had not. And she would have permitted Severus a little more leeway than her family had given her. If he had indicated a preference for a certain girl, she would have taken his wishes into consideration, so long as the girl was a pureblood of good family; she certainly would not have married him off to a woman twice his age, even for the sake of an alliance! In fact, after the whole scandal with the werewolf, Selima would have agreed to nearly anyone human and female!

Selima sighed. But in the end, Severus had not married, remaining stubbornly loyal to his werewolf lover. Perhaps her mother was right, and it was all her fault; perhaps she had been too soft on him when he was a child, or not soft enough. But what was done was done; it was too late to change things now, and although Selima would never admit it to anyone but herself, she secretly preferred the werewolf's company to that of her mother--or any of her other Bashir relatives, for that matter, with the possible exception of Ali. That spoke more of her dislike for her family, Selima told herself, than any fondness for the werewolf, who was one of the most irritating people she had ever met. Still, Lupin was her ally, and while Sabra was half-right about Selima using the "new order" of things as an excuse to justify her support of Cyril, everything she had said was true. Things had changed after the war, and would never be the same again. The pureblood nobility had become set in their ways, and were in danger of losing their power if they did not learn to adapt. And one thing Selima was good at was adapting to the situation at hand, however much she hated the need for it.

If her mother had come expressing her outrage, Selima knew that her own peers would not be far behind. She sighed again, mentally bracing herself for more catty gossip sessions over tea with Priscilla Parkinson and her ilk. Perhaps it was time for the Snape family to show off some of those important connections Selima had boasted of to Sabra. If the Minister of Magic had dinner with the Snapes, that would still some of the wagging tongues. And it would be even better if the Boy Who Lived showed up as well--after all, Harry Potter had publicly acknowledged Severus's role as his protector in the Daily Prophet. Perhaps she would make a party of it, and invite the Minister's and Potter's families; it could not do any harm to secure the allegiance of Potter's godparents, the heads of the Black and Blackmore clans, two of the oldest and wealthiest pureblood families in the wizarding world. Yes, Selima decided, it was time to go on the offensive. She marched off to the study to write two letters: one to Severus, telling him of her plan, and a second to Lupin, to make sure that Severus went along with it. Since Lupin claimed that he was her ally, she might as well make him earn his keep.

***

After a busy day of classes, Snape and Lupin found two letters waiting for them when they arrived at their dungeon quarters. Snape groaned when he saw the Snape seal on the envelopes.

"Does my mother think I have nothing better to do than dance attendance on her?!" Snape shouted in frustration as he read Lady Selima's latest missive. "The term is nearly over; I have lessons to prepare and grade, and the boys have tests to study for and projects to complete! We don't have time to go to a dinner party! Couldn't she at least wait until school lets out?"

Lupin patiently let his lover rant and rave until he ran out of steam. When Snape finally fell silent, Lupin looked up from his own letter and said, "This isn't one of her usual tea parties to check up on Theodore's progress, Severus. She made a bold move when she chose to support Lukas's claim to the Diggory title, and you were right when you said that her peers would regard her as a traitor for it. Having the support of the Minister of Magic and Harry Potter will go a long way towards helping her save face and keep the respect of her peers."

"You're right," Snape said, calming down. Then he smiled slightly, raising an eyebrow as he asked, "Which one of us is supposed to be a pureblood Lord?"

Lupin grinned at him. "I may not be one of the pureblood elite, but I've spent enough time observing them to understand how they think. Particularly since my lover is a pureblood Lord." He dropped the letter and wrapped his arms around Snape's neck.

"Well, I suppose we can spare a couple of hours for dinner one evening," Snape grudgingly conceded, wrapping his arms around Lupin's waist and pulling him closer. "But it's your job to convince the Weasleys and Potter to go along with it."

"I can be very persuasive, Severus," Lupin whispered, his lips just a fraction of an inch away from Snape's.

"I know, Lupin," Snape said, and closed that gap, pressing his lips against Lupin's. Then he pulled away and scowled. "But I don't wish you to be that 'persuasive' with anyone but me!"

"I don't think I'm Arthur's type, anyway," Lupin laughed, as they headed to the bedroom together.

***

Sirius and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley met up with Snape, Lupin, Blackmore, Theodore, Dylan, Harry, Ron, and Ginny at Hogwarts on the night of the dinner party. Molly fussed over her children, straightening Ron's tie and smoothing down a stray lock of Ginny's hair.

"Mum, stop fussing!" Ron complained.

"You want to make a good impression, don't you?" Mrs. Weasley scolded fretfully.

"They look fine, Molly," Professor Blackmore told her.

Mrs. Weasley laughed, looking a little sheepish. "I know, I guess I'm a bit nervous. It's just that when I was a girl, everyone coveted an invitation to one of Lady Selima's parties. I suppose it's foolish, but it all seemed very glamorous to me back then--to dress up and mingle with all the most important people in the wizarding world. And now, after all these years, I've finally been invited to Snape Manor!"

"Believe me, you weren't missing anything," Snape muttered sourly.

"I attended a couple of those parties with my parents when I was a kid, before they disowned me," Sirius said, tugging at the collar of his dress robe. "I found them deadly boring."

"For once, Black, you and I agree on something," Snape said.

"Stop fussing, Sirius," Blackmore scolded.

"This thing chokes me," Sirius grumbled, but stopped fiddling with his collar.

"I don't understand," Harry said. "If the purpose of this party is to show support for Master Bleddri, why isn't he coming, too?"

Mr. Weasley looked uncomfortable, and Blackmore explained, "It wouldn't be proper for the Minister of Magic to show such blatant favoritism towards one of the plaintiffs in an upcoming lawsuit. However, it is acceptable for him to show his support in more subtle ways, such as attending a dinner party given by one of Master Bleddri's allies. And the Minister isn't just supporting Master Bleddri; he's also supporting Lady Selima and the Snape family, who stand to lose prestige and influence by going against pureblood mores by backing a werewolf's claim to the Diggory title."

Professor Blackmore's explanation only made Harry more confused. He understood why Snape, whose lover was a werewolf, might offer his support to Master Bleddri, but he didn't really understand why Snape's mother would do so, even if Bleddri's mother had been her friend, since Draco claimed that Selima Snape was a typical pureblood snob (although he had not phrased it in precisely those words). However, Harry certainly didn't feel like asking Professor Snape about it, particularly when he was looking so grumpy.

Theodore noticed the look of confusion on Harry's face and told him, "Don't worry about it, Potter. You don't need to understand how pureblood politics work in this instance; all you have to do is show up."

"Uh...okay," Harry said, a little reluctantly. Dining with Snape's family was not really his idea of a good time, but when Lupin had asked for this favor, Harry had felt like he couldn't turn him down. Besides, Professor Blackmore had informed both Harry and Sirius in no uncertain terms that they would attend this dinner, despite some grumbling on Padfoot's part. And Ron had glumly told Harry, "If I have to go, you'd better come too and keep me company!"

They went through the Floo to Snape Manor, where an elderly house-elf led them to the dining room. Lady Selima greeted her guests politely, shaking Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's hands and saying how nice it was to see them again, under happier circumstances this time. And she complimented Mrs. Weasley on her robe, which made Mrs. Weasley smile and flush with pleasure, which in turn made Mr. Weasley smile.

"Mum bought it special for this party," Ginny whispered into Harry's ear.

"I had no idea Mum had such a hankering to attend a party at Snape Manor," Ron muttered.

Selima greeted Sirius and Professor Blackmore politely, although she frowned a little at Bane, who was perched on the Professor's shoulder. Apparently she had not intended for Bane to be included in the invitation, but Blackmore almost never went anywhere without her familiar. Then Selima turned to Harry, Ron, and Ginny, and said, "Thank you for coming, Mr. Potter, young Mr. and Miss Weasley. It's a pleasure to meet some of Severus's students." She smiled in a charming way, that looked distinctly odd on a face that so closely resembled Snape's. "I hope my son isn't being too hard on you."

"Uh, no, ma'am," Harry replied, casting a nervous glance Snape's way, and wondered if she had just made a joke. He wondered how Lady Selima could look so much like her son and yet so different at the same time. Her features had been obscured by her veil at the funeral, but now he could see them clearly. She was indeed the same woman Harry had once glimpsed in Snape's memories during his Occlumency lessons--although of course many years older now. If she was Snape's mother, she must be at least in her late fifties, but she looked much younger, and was still very beautiful despite a few strands of gray scattered through her hair (still less than Lupin's), and faint lines around her eyes and mouth. She had the same black eyes as Snape's, cold and piercing, and she also had black hair like her son, but hers looked sleek and shiny while Snape's hair always seemed to look a little lank and greasy. Snape had a hint of his mother's coloring, but while her skin was a warm honey-gold, Snape's was paler, and the touch of gold only made him look sallow and jaundiced. She carried herself with much the same air of arrogance that Snape did, but she somehow managed to look graceful and dignified at the same time, while Snape only looked menacing and ill-tempered.

Speaking of which, Snape was looking rather ill-tempered at this particular moment. "Can we get on with this, Mother?" he asked impatiently. "It's near the end of term, and I have a lot of work to do, not to mention that the boys--that all the students need to study for their end-of-term tests and projects." He gave Harry and Ron a pointed look. "Some more than others."

"Mind your manners, Severus," Selima scolded, in much the same way that Mrs. Weasley scolded her brood when they misbehaved. Ron snickered, then gulped and turned pale when Snape shot a murderous look his way.

They took their seats, and Vorcher served dinner; it was a good thing that Hermione wasn't here to talk about house-elf rights. There was an uncomfortable silence at the dinner table at first, punctuated by awkward bursts of small talk; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked a little out of their element; Harry, Ron, and Ginny were intimidated by the presence of their Potions teacher; Theodore seemed a little uncomfortable about dining with the Gryffindors, although Dylan outwardly seemed at ease; and Sirius kept fussing with his collar, finally undoing the top few buttons of his robe to loosen it a little. But Lady Selima was as socially adept as her son was not, and managed to draw people out and keep the conversation running smoothly. She chatted with Mr. Weasley about his work at the Ministry, then engaged Mrs. Weasley on two of her favorite subjects: cooking and her children. Selima listened with all evident interest as Mrs. Weasley shared a recipe for Raspberry-Rum Trifle that she had found in Witch Weekly, although Harry couldn't picture the elegant Lady Snape cooking in the kitchen--or reading Witch Weekly, for that matter. Selima also inquired politely about the older Weasley boys, and listened attentively as Molly Weasley talked about how worrisome it was to have Charlie working so far away in Romania with dangerous beasts like dragons, and how nice it was that Percy had settled down with a nice girl, and that she hoped Bill would pop the question to that sweet girl Fleur soon, too.

Selima also talked with Professor Blackmore about her work at Hogwarts, and chatted pleasantly with Sirius about his work in Werewolf Support, despite the fact that Dylan had told Hermione that Lady Selima did not approve of her son's werewolf lover. Theodore and Dylan told her about the Career Fair and the apprenticeships they had been offered. Ron perked up a little and said, "So Dad, what's the deal with flying carpets? I mean, why are they illegal? I don't see what's so bad about a flying carpet when people go around riding brooms all the time. Mister Bashir says it's a conspiracy--"

Mr. Weasley groaned, "So he's gotten to you, too!"

Lady Selima laughed gently and said, "I must apologize to you, Minister, for my cousin's persistence. This issue of the flying carpets has become something of a fixation with him, I'm afraid."

Mr. Weasley sighed. "It's not your fault, Lady Selima. And off the record, I don't really have a particularly strong objection to flying carpets. But that law has in been in place for many years, and getting the Ministry to change its mind about something is rather like pulling teeth."

"I understand, Minister," Selima assured him. "You must pick and choose your battles. It would be unwise to contend with the Ministry over such a trivial matter when you want their cooperation on more important issues--such as, for example, equal rights for nonhumans."

"Exactly!" Mr. Weasley said, looking gratified. Sirius regarded Lady Selima with a bemused look on his face, while Snape merely looked sour and Lupin looked amused.

"And what are your plans for the future, Mr. Potter?" Selima asked Harry with a pleasant smile. "Surely every employer in the wizarding world must be competing for your services."

Harry flushed and said, "Well...uh...I haven't really decided yet, ma'am. I've gotten offers from some Quidditch teams, or I thought maybe I might become an Auror..."

"Yes, it is only natural that you would want to follow in your father's footsteps," Selima said, taking a sip of wine.

"Dad was an Auror?" Harry asked, startled. "Or...do you mean Sirius?"

Sirius smiled warmly at Harry, looking surprised but pleased at the thought of being referred to as Harry's "father." "James wasn't actually an Auror, Harry," he replied. "But he essentially did the work of one, fighting the Death Eaters as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He and Lily both fought bravely." Sirius blinked, looking a little teary-eyed.

"That is what I meant," Selima clarified. "I apologize if I misspoke."

Harry gave Selima a puzzled look; Snape hated James Potter, but apparently his mother didn't share the same sentiment. Or was Selima only flattering him because she thought of him as someone important, the Savior of the Wizarding World, as Snape often sarcastically referred to him? "I...I had wanted to become an Auror and fight the Death Eaters," Harry said hesitantly. "Only, there are no more Death Eaters now, so it doesn't seem so urgent..."

"There have always been Dark Wizards in this world, for as long as our kind have been in existence," Selima replied calmly. "Although one hopes, by Merlin, that we shall never again see one so strong as Voldemort. But I have no doubt that there will be a continued need for Aurors in the future, even if that need is, as you put it, not quite so urgent as it was before."

"I think I would like to become an Auror," Ginny declared.

"You're certainly on the right track," Lupin said cheerfully. "Your grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts are excellent, and so are your grades in Potions, if I'm not mistaken."

He glanced at Snape, who grudgingly said, "Miss Weasley's grades are adequate."

Lupin grinned and winked at Ginny, saying, "That's high praise coming from Severus," and Snape scowled at him.

"And what about you, Mr. Weasley?" Selima asked Ron politely.

"Well, I dunno," Ron replied with his mouth full, then paused to chew and swallow as his mother glared at him. "If Harry's going to become an Auror, maybe I'll apply, too--if I can pass my N.E.W.T.s, that is."

"And is your ability to pass them in question?" Mrs. Weasley asked sternly.

"No, of course not, Mum!" Ron said hastily. "Or I'd like to try out for a professional Quidditch team, or Charlie said he could get me a job in Romania..."

Mrs. Weasley heaved a long-suffering sigh, and Selima smiled sympathetically. "It's such a trial having just one son," she said as Snape glared at her. "I can't imagine what it must be like to have six to worry about."

"Tell me about it," Mrs. Weasley sighed, then proceeded to describe in detail what a trial her sons were, especially Fred and George. Ron looked so mortified that Harry couldn't help but laugh. Actually, it was a relief that Mrs. Weasley was keeping Lady Selima occupied, because it meant that Harry wasn't required to make small talk. By the time Mrs. Weasley had run out of things to say about her sons, dessert had been served, and soon afterwards, they were thanking Lady Selima for her hospitality and getting ready to leave.

"Oh, and by the way, Severus," Selima called out at the last minute.

"Yes, Mother?" Snape asked warily.

"You will come to stay for the holidays, won't you?" Selima asked casually. "You and Professor Lupin and the boys?"

Snape looked about as thrilled at the prospect as Harry would be to spend Christmas with the Dursleys. "I'm not sure, Mother. I believe the Headmaster is planning to hold a Yule Ball this year--"

"Another one?" Selima asked. "I thought it was normally held in conjunction with the Triwizard Tournament."

"There is no Tournament this year," Snape replied, "but the Headmaster feels it would be appropriate to celebrate, as the war is finally over."

"Perfectly appropriate," Selima said. "But you can stay at Snape Manor and take the Floo back to Hogwarts to attend the Ball."

"That sounds like a good plan," Lupin said cheerfully.

Snape glanced back and forth from his mother to his lover, a trapped look in his eyes. "But the Headmaster may require the services of the teachers to...er...help prepare for the Ball--"

"My, I had no idea that Dumbledore was such a slave driver," Selima said sarcastically.

"I don't believe your services are required, Severus," Lupin informed him helpfully, "except as a chaperone, the night of the Ball. Unless you'd care to join Professors Flitwick and Sprout on the decorating committee."

Snape glared at Lupin. "And perhaps Dylan has other plans," he continued. "Did the Donners want you to visit over the holidays?"

"Of course Dylan can stay with his great-uncle and aunt if he wishes," Selima interrupted. "I don't see how that would prevent the rest of you from coming to Snape Manor."

"Actually, I wanted to spend Christmas with you and Remus and Theodore, since it will be our first Christmas together as a family," Dylan said, and Snape's expression softened a little. "So I would be happy to stay at Snape Manor with you, since Lady Selima has so kindly invited us. But Aunt Goewin and Uncle Math want me to come spend a few days with them after Christmas."

"Very well," Snape sighed in a tone of resignation.

"We'll see you in a couple of weeks then," Lupin said to Selima chirpily as Snape glared at him again, and Harry bit his lip and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, exiting through the fireplace before Snape could catch him laughing.

Back at Hogwarts, Sirius said, "Well, that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," echoing Harry's own thoughts.

"Your mother is a very charming woman, Severus," Mrs. Weasley told Snape.

"Yes," Snape said sourly, "she's very charming when she wants to be--which is generally when she's trying to impress someone among the pureblood elite. But woe betide anyone who has the misfortune to incur her wrath."

"Does that mean we're among the elite now, Dad?" Ron asked excitedly.

Snape looked even more sour than before, and snapped, "That should be obvious, Mr. Weasley! There is no higher position in the wizarding world than Minister of Magic!" He turned his gaze on Harry and added sarcastically, "Except perhaps Savior of the Wizarding World."

"Temper, temper, Severus," Lupin chided gently.

"Yes, people think your father is an important man now," Mrs. Weasley told Ron. "But don't you be letting it go to your head!"

"I have a headache," Snape said sulkily, and stomped off to the dungeon without another word. Lupin grinned and followed him after saying goodnight to Sirius, Blackmore, Harry, and the Weasleys. The Slytherin boys also said goodnight--Theodore politely if without much enthusiasm, and Dylan with his usual smooth charm--and hurried after their guardians.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley returned home, and Ginny and Ron went back to the Gryffindor dorm, but Harry went up to Blackmore's quarters with his godparents to spend a little time with Sirius before he left. Harry looked around and noted that the rooms had the same basic layout as Snape's, a small parlor with adjoining bedroom, although since Blackmore's quarters were located in one of the upper levels of the castle, there was also a window overlooking the school grounds, which Snape's dungeon quarters lacked.

"So what are your plans for the holidays, Harry?" Sirius asked heartily.

"Well, I thought I'd come stay with you at Grimmauld Place, if that's all right," Harry replied, feeling a little confused. Didn't Sirius want him to come home for Christmas?

"Oh, of course!" Sirius said. "What I meant was, what lucky young lady will you be taking to the Yule Ball?" He grinned mischievously and winked at Harry, suddenly looking like a young Marauder once again.

Harry found himself blushing. "Um, well...I took Ginny last year."

"So is there something going on between you and Ginny?" Sirius asked. "She's certainly a very pretty girl; she has spunk, too--much like Lily. Of course, she does seem to have a liking for Snape, but I suppose there's no accounting for taste..."

"Sirius," Blackmore said in a warning tone of voice.

"Well, the thing is," Harry said, still blushing, "we just went to the Ball as friends. I mean, she had just broken up with Dean back then, and I had broken up with Cho and neither of us was seeing anyone, so..." His voice trailed off.

"Well, there wasn't much time for romance, with everything that was going on last year," Blackmore said sympathetically.

Harry nodded gratefully. "Yeah, I was too busy worrying about getting killed by Voldemort to think about girls--" Sirius raised his eyebrows and gave Harry a skeptical look. "Well, mostly," Harry laughed. "I guess maybe I did think about them a little bit."

"Well, now there's plenty of time for romance!" Sirius declared. "So are you going to invite Miss Weasley to the Ball again this year, or has another young lady caught your fancy?" Harry blushed again, but remained silent. "Hmm," said Sirius thoughtfully, "your father was a one-woman kind of man, and I think you take after him, Harry."

"I want to ask Ginny to the Ball," Harry said, his face still feeling hot, and he knew it must be beet-red. "But I think she'll think I'm just asking her as a friend again."

"And you would like to be more than friends?" Sirius asked, and Harry nodded. "Do you think Ginny could think of you as more than a friend?"

"I don't know," Harry replied helplessly. "She used to have a crush on me when she first started Hogwarts, but that was just because I was famous. Now she just treats me almost like I'm one of her brothers--which includes telling me off when she thinks I'm doing something stupid!" He smiled ruefully, thinking of how the younger Ginny used to regard him with awe, but he supposed he preferred her the way she was now.

Sirius chuckled. "Well, your mum used to tell off your dad often enough when they were kids!"

Harry suddenly remembered that Blackmore had mentioned that Sirius had been quite a ladies' man in his younger days. "Hey...Sirius?" he asked hesitantly. "How can you tell if a girl really likes you or not?"

Sirius leaned back against the couch and grinned. "Kiss her," he suggested. "If she kisses you back, it means she likes you; if she slaps you, it means she doesn't."

"Oh, that's very helpful!" Blackmore said sarcastically, as Harry protested, "I can't do that! Come on, Padfoot, be serious!"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know, Harry. I had a lot of girlfriends in school, but I wasn't serious about any of them."

Blackmore sighed. "I'm afraid that your godfather can't give you very good advice, Harry, because he never really had to pursue the young women at Hogwarts. For the most part, they pursued him."

Sirius smiled tenderly at his wife. "Branwen is the first, and only, woman I've ever really loved."

"Well, how did you tell Professor Blackmore that you liked her?" Harry asked desperately. "I mean, I know you got together after the final battle, but you never said exactly how it happened."

"I kissed her," Sirius said, grinning from ear to ear, "and she didn't slap me!"

"You're a big help!" Harry groaned.

"You're incorrigible," Blackmore told her husband, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. She smiled at Harry and said, "You should just be honest, Harry, and tell Ginny how you feel about her."

"But what if she doesn't feel the same way?" Harry asked. "Won't that make things weird between us?"

"It might, for a little while," Blackmore replied. "But if you care about each other enough, even just as friends, you'll work through it eventually. Your friends Ron and Hermione worked things out, didn't they?"

"You know about that?" Harry asked, startled.

"Well, the entire school was gossiping about it, thanks to the Slytherins who witnessed their argument at Madam Puddifoot's," Blackmore said, looking amused. "But yes, even before that, I could see that Mr. Weasley had feelings for Miss Granger, who in turn had feelings for Mr. Rosier. It took courage for Ron to tell Hermione how he felt, and he shouldn't regret that he did so, even if she did not feel quite the same way about him. Things were awkward between them for awhile, I'm sure, but in the end, they worked it out and their friendship is probably the stronger for it."

"Well, yeah, but--"

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Mr. Potter," Blackmore said in a sterner voice. "Look at Remus and Severus, who spent almost twenty years apart because each assumed that the other one did not love him. They nearly destroyed their lives and their chance for happiness together because they were too afraid to tell each other how they felt. Live without regret, Mr. Potter. Don't look back twenty years from now and say, 'what if...?'"

"It's only a date to the Yule Ball," Harry protested weakly, although he knew it was really more than that.

Blackmore smiled and said in a lighter tone, "Come now, Harry, surely facing Miss Weasley can't be as hard as facing the Death Eaters?"

"No," he said glumly, "it's harder."

Both of his godparents laughed, although not unkindly. "Yes, Ginny Weasley certainly is terrifying!" Sirius teased, and Harry had to smile a little. "Well, Harry, if you don't want to come right out and pledge your undying love to her, I think you can let her know in more subtle ways."

"Such as?" Harry asked.

"Oh, you know," Sirius said, gesturing vaguely. "Tell her how pretty she looks, steal a flower from the greenhouse for her, suggest you go for a stroll together along the lake. If she feels the same way about you, I can almost guarantee that you'll know it pretty soon. But if it seems to make her uncomfortable and she starts making up excuses not to be alone with you, then it probably means that she just wants to be friends, and you can back off with no harm done to your pride."

"I think you should skip the 'stealing a flower from the greenhouse' part, though," Blackmore said dryly. "Unless you want Professor Sprout to give you detention. And I still think the direct approach is best."

"Well, thanks for the advice," Harry said, a bit evasively, not saying whose advice he intended to follow. Blackmore was probably right, but Harry didn't think he had enough courage to try the direct approach, and Sirius had a lot of experience with women, so he probably knew what he was talking about. Harry suddenly recalled the many times that Snape, Lupin, and Blackmore had accused Sirius of being immature, and tried to push those thoughts out of his mind. "Um...it's getting late, so I should probably head back to the dorm."

"Goodnight, dear," Blackmore said, and kissed him on the cheek. Bane croaked, looking a little jealous, the way he usually did when his mistress showed affection to anyone but him.

"Goodnight, Harry," Sirius said, giving his godson a hug. Then he winked and whispered, "Let me know how things go with Ginny, okay?"

Harry flushed again, feeling like his cheeks must be permanently stained red by now. "Okay," he said, and fled in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

Sirius closed the door, chuckling and shaking his head. "Maybe he doesn't take after his dad, after all. I can't remember Prongs ever being that shy and awkward around girls."

"No, he was just loud and obnoxious," Branwen replied with a wry smile. "Personally, I prefer Harry's naivete. He hasn't had much of a childhood, Sirius. In some ways, he's had to take on the responsibilities of an adult at a very young age, and in others, he's still a child, socially behind his peers."

"I know," Sirius sighed, his smile fading, and he wrapped his arms around his wife and pulled her close. "He's never really had a chance to just be a kid, the way James and I did. We can't return those lost years to him, but maybe we can make it up to him, a little. We can help him enjoy his last year at Hogwarts, and...maybe we shouldn't rush him into choosing a career. I mean, he should take his N.E.W.T.s, of course, but he doesn't have to look for a job right after graduation. He could take a year off to just enjoy himself. He could hop on Buckbeak and take a trip around the world, maybe visit Charlie in Romania." He knew that Branwen didn't really approve of students being idle and goofing off, so he added coaxingly, "It would broaden his horizons, be a learning experience for him..."

"You don't have to convince me, Siri," Branwen said with a smile, much to her husband's surprise. "Harry seems a bit unsure of his future plans. Perhaps he should take some time to get settled and decide what he really wants, rather than just taking the first opportunity that comes along, or doing what everyone expects him to--like following in his father's footsteps." Sirius kissed her soundly, and Branwen laughed, a wicked gleam glinting in her green eyes. "Of course, that doesn't mean that he needs to remain idle. He can continue his studies informally--Blackmore Manor has a library nearly the equal of the one at Hogwarts. He could try his hand at different things, perhaps volunteer at the clinic. Or perhaps we could arrange for him to study in Japan for a few months with Severus's friends--"

Sirius cut her off with another kiss. "Or perhaps," he suggested gently, "we could just let Harry decide what he wants to do, and if necessary, make his own mistakes and learn from them--as you and I did."

Branwen blinked, looking startled. "Why...that's actually very wise of you, my dear. It seems you have grown up, after all."

"I'm not a little boy anymore, Professor," Sirius laughed, then gave her a lascivious grin and waggled his eyebrows in a way that was much more comical than lewd. "Want me to prove to you just how much I've grown up?"

Bane croaked sullenly as the laughing couple retreated into the bedroom and closed the door behind them.

***

The unrest between Gryffindor and Slytherin did not explode into outright conflict as the R.A. had hoped it would, but dwindled down into a general feeling of uneasiness, with suspicious glances cast at each other by both sides, and a few muttered insults. It caused some internal conflict within Gryffindor, as when Jack Sloper told Parvati that she was a traitor for dating a Slytherin, and she told him that he was a narrow-minded bigot and should mind his own business. And one day, a group of Gryffindor students consisting of the Slopers and their friends fell silent when Allegra walked into the common room, and Kenneth said in a loud stage whisper that they didn't want "the spy" carrying tales back to Slytherin.

"As if you know anything worth telling!" Allegra sniffed disdainfully. "Like the Slytherins care which girls you think are pretty, or what grades you got on your homework!" Then she flounced off, with her three loyal friends--Chloe, Emma, and Portia--by her side.

"Uppity little Slytherin," Jack muttered.

The Slytherins, for their part, became more wary around the Gryffindors. Blaise cautioned his sister to be careful around her housemates and to try to stay near Hermione, Harry, or the Weasleys in the Gryffindor dorm. "I don't think the troublemakers will try anything if they're around."

"I'm not afraid of them," Allegra said, tossing her hair back defiantly.

"You should be!" Blaise told her sternly. "One of them might have cast that hex on Dylan--that wasn't just a little prank, like the one they played on Portia! Dylan could have been killed!"

Allegra began to look scared then, which Blaise regretted, but it was better for her to be on her guard. He and Theodore and Dylan quietly taught her a few curses she could use to defend herself in a last resort, "just in case."

"But get away as soon as you can," Dylan advised. "And scream for help." He grinned at her. "I know you can scream really loud; I could hear you cheering for me in the Quidditch stands during the game." She giggled, although she still looked more sober than usual. "But it's better to avoid trouble if you can. Don't go wandering around any empty, out-of-the way corridors alone."

"Yes, Dylan," Allegra said obediently. And since they didn't want her going anywhere alone, Dylan walked her back from the dungeon to Gryffindor Tower, as he was going to meet with Hermione, anyway.

"Was that really necessary?" Theodore asked Blaise.

"I hope not," Blaise replied. "But I'm not taking any chances with my sister's safety. I just wish we could move her from Gryffindor into Slytherin."

"Granger will look after her," Theodore said, trying to sound comforting. "And Allegra knows a lot of hexes; she's advanced beyond most of the older Gryffindors. They're hampered by their holier-than-thou refusal to learn any Dark Magic."

"But those were a couple of pretty potent hexes on Dylan's rosettes," Blaise said, frowning. "Not the sort of thing most Gryffindors mess with." And Theodore had no comforting reply for that.

Part 45