FIC: Aftermaths, Part 73

[geri_chan]

Title: Aftermaths, Part 73
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: ~8,935
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: Amos and Williamson plot; Blaise and Theodore try to spend some time alone together while Aric unintentionally eavesdrops.

Part 72 (Previous chapters can be found under the aftermaths tag.)

***

"Ouch, that stings!" Lukas complained as Takeshi cleaned his wounds at the clinic.

"Hold still," Takeshi said crossly. "You know, a werewolf is not indestructible. Are you insane, taking on a Graphorn single-handedly?"

"It wasn't single-handedly; Ash was there," Lukas protested. "Besides, was I supposed to just let that kid get trampled?"

"You know," Takeshi said, "at first I thought you would have been a Slytherin if you'd gone to Hogwarts, but now I'm not so sure. You seem to have that Gryffindor noble hero only-I-can-save-the-world complex."

"Ouch! Is healing salve supposed to sting like that? Besides, you don't really need to do that. I'm a werewolf; I'll heal on my own eventually."

"I'm not using healing salve," the mediwizard replied. "I'm using a strong antiseptic to clean out the wounds first. Did you know that Graphorn horns contain a mild toxin? That's part of what makes them so valuable as a potion ingredient. Even a werewolf's wounds won't heal properly if they've been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Lukas asked in dismay.

"Fortunately, werewolves have a high tolerance for poison, and the toxin in the horns isn't really that strong. Most people don't die from it, but then again, most victims of a Graphorn attack usually bleed to death before the poison has a chance to work. So sit still and let me clean out your wounds."

Lukas smiled at hearing the normally gentle and good-natured mediwizard speaking in such a stern and no-nonsense tone of voice. He meekly sat still while Takeshi cleaned his wounds, then heard shouting and pounding from the front of the clinic. "What's going on out there?" he asked.

"I told Ash to lock the door and keep everyone out until I was done treating your wounds," Takeshi replied.

Ash strolled into the examining room, looking bemused. "That reporter wants an interview with us, there are several Ministry officials who want to question us about the incident, and the mother of the child wants to thank us."

"Don't talk to the Ministry without your lawyer present," Takeshi said grimly. "I'll call Ms. De Lacy and ask her to come here."

"We saved that kid!" Ash said indignantly. "You think they'll try to blame the attack on us somehow?"

"I'd rather be safe than sorry," Takeshi replied. "Don't forget who works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

"Dear old Uncle Amos," Lukas said bitterly.

"Well, your friends Tonks and Shacklebolt are two of the Ministry people out there," Ash said. "So hopefully they'll stand up for us. And I'm not sure--it was kind of confusing with everyone shouting at once--but another Ministry official seemed to be the kid's father."

"You saved the life of a Ministry official's daughter?!" Takeshi exclaimed.

"I'm not sure," Ash confessed. "Like I said, it was kind of confusing."

"Did you happen to get her name afterwards?"

"I think the mother introduced herself as Mrs. Peasegood, but I was concentrating more on getting Lukas to the clinic."

"Arnold Peasegood is an Obliviator for the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad!" Takeshi said excitedly. "If you've really saved his daughter, this could be great publicity for you if we put the right spin on it! Your wounds are clean now, Lukas. Ash, could you put some healing salve on them? I've got to go contact Ms. De Lacy!"

The mediwizard ran out of the room, and Lukas raised his eyebrows and asked, "'Put the right spin on it'? Does that sound like the Takeshi we know?"

Ash grinned. "Well, he's been involved with the Wolfsbane Potion Distribution Program since it started. I'm sure he's aware of the politics behind getting it started and keeping it going."

Takeshi returned with Morrigan a few minutes later. "You can let them in now," she told the mediwizard.

Lukas's shirt and robes, which he had taken off so that Takeshi could treat his wounds, were torn and bloodstained, so Ash started to shrug off his own robe to lend to his pack leader. But Morrigan said, "No, let them see that he was wounded in defense of the child." She carefully draped the torn, bloodstained robes across his shoulders, making sure to leave his chest exposed. The gashes had closed and were beginning to scab over, but they still looked raw and red and quite horrific. Morrigan smiled in satisfaction.

"I've never had a woman ogle me in quite that way before," Lukas said sardonically.

"Those wounds could very well win the trial for you," Morrigan told him smugly. "It couldn't have worked out better if I had planned it."

Lukas was about to tell her that he wouldn't have deliberately taken on a Graphorn even to win the trial, but suddenly the room was full of witches and wizards who were all shouting at once. Flashes of light filled the room as Bozo started taking pictures. "Get those reporters out of here!" one of the Ministry officials shouted.

"Do you have something to hide?" Rita demanded.

"Ladies! Gentlemen!" Morrigan shouted, clapping her hands together to get their attention. "If you would all please calm down, I'm sure we can get everything settled. Master Diggory and Mister...er..." She hesitated, glancing at Ash.

"Randolf," Ash said reluctantly. He didn't care to give out his full name to people he didn't know, especially when they were associated with the Ministry, even though it wasn't actually his real name. Or at least, it wasn't the name he had been born with, but it was the name he had been using since becoming part of the pack. He would hate to have to come up with a new alias if his current persona ran afoul of the law. And then he suddenly remembered that he had left the bag of video games out in the street where he had dropped it. He had been too worried about Lukas to think about retrieving it at the time. Video games weren't actually illegal in the wizarding world, but they were frowned upon as being a bad influence on young witches and wizards, and he didn't have a license to sell them--or any of the other Muggle items he dealt in, for that matter.

Morrigan didn't seem notice his uneasiness, and continued smoothly, "...Randolf will give their statements to the Ministry representatives, after which they will be happy to give you an exclusive interview, Ms. Skeeter. Will that be satisfactory?"

Rita nodded, looking mollified, and took a seat in the corner of the room, scribbling in her notebook with an acid-green quill. Lukas and Ash explained their version of events to the Ministry officials; Amos wasn't among them, much to Lukas's relief. There was, however, a representative from the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures department, and he had obviously been influenced by Amos, because he regarded the two werewolves with an air of suspicion and hostility.

"Transforming when it is not the full moon, when you are presumably not taking the Wolfsbane Potion, is rather dangerous, isn't it?" he asked pointedly.

"It wasn't like I did it on purpose!" Lukas snapped. "It's an involuntary defensive reaction when the wolf feels its life is threatened."

"Honestly, Bob!" Tonks said, glaring at her fellow Ministry worker. "He saved Sally's life!"

"That's right!" said another Ministry official vehemently. "Those men are heroes; they saved my daughter! They should be getting a medal, not being treated like criminals!"

Takeshi's guess had been correct; Arnold Peasegood introduced himself and shook the werewolves' hands, thanking them profusely. Both Ash and Lukas found it an almost surreal experience to be thanked by a Ministry official. Even after the werewolves had taken part in the battle against the Death Easters, the Ministry's gratitude had been rather grudging for the most part, except for Tonks, Kingsley, and Arthur. But then Peasegood surprised them even further.

"I supported Dolores Umbridge's anti-werewolf legislation," he said, looking shamefaced. "And I argued against the equal rights bill when Arthur proposed it. And yet you risked your lives to save my little girl."

"I didn't know she was your daughter," Lukas said. "But even if I had, I wouldn't have let a child die just because I didn't like her father."

"I swear to you," Peasegood said fervently, his voice trembling a little, "that from now on, I will support Arthur Weasley's reforms. And I will never again judge someone solely by their blood or their race, without knowing them as individuals. I am in your debt, and if there is ever anything I can do to help you, then you need only ask."

Lukas nodded gravely, mentally filing away that promise for future use. Perhaps Peasegood would actually stand by it, even after the emotional impact of his daughter's rescue wore off. Remus would be delighted when he heard of this; it would confirm his Gryffindor idealism and his belief that the bigoted purebloods could change their ways.

Mrs. Peasegood also tearfully thanked Lukas and Ash, then prompted her daughter to thank them as well. "Thank you for saving me, Mr. Werewolf," she obediently said to Lukas.

"Sally!" Mrs. Peasegood exclaimed, looking mortified, but the two werewolves burst into laughter.

"Never mind," Lukas chuckled. "No offense was intended, and none was taken."

"And we are werewolves, after all," Ash pointed out. "No sense in trying to pretend that we aren't."

Sally seemed a little puzzled as to why her comment should have caused such an uproar, but she smiled at Ash. "And thank you, too, Mr. Werewolf. I ran out into the street after this." She held out her hand, showing him the Remembrall. "I managed to hang onto it, even after the monster came running down the street and you picked me up," she said proudly.

"That's nice," Ash said, ruffling her hair. "But don't run away from your mother like that again. You can always buy another Remembrall, but your mother and father can't buy another Sally from the store." Sally giggled and nodded.

"Well, I think that wraps everything up," Tonks said cheerfully, and the other Ministry officials nodded, although Bob looked a bit sullen.

"Where on earth did that Graphorn come from, anyway?" Lukas asked.

"Some fool of a wizard brought it to sell as potion ingredients to the Apothecary," Kingsley replied. "He thought it was dead, but it was only stunned, and when the stasis spell he cast on it wore off, it woke up and went charging down the street." Kingsley shook his head. "He's the same idiot who once tried to get past the Whomping Willow on a dare when he was at Hogwarts. Apparently, he hasn't gotten any smarter since then. If he's lucky, he'll get off with a hefty fine; if not, he may have some time to contemplate his mistakes in Azkaban."

Tonks and Kingsley lingered behind after the other Ministry officials left. She handed Ash the bag of video games with a wink, saying, "I believe you dropped this, Ash."

Ash grinned, bowed over her hand, and kissed it as Kingsley scowled at him. "Thank you, milady," he said.

Tonks laughed, "I'm no lady--at least, that's what my mother always used to say when she threw up her arms in frustration after I'd just ripped or dirtied a new dress playing outside. She used to call me a tomboy and a little hoyden. But you're welcome, Ash. It's the least I can do for the hero who saved little Sally's life." She winked at him again before she left with Kingsley.

"Too bad the good ones all seem to be taken," Ash whispered to Lukas with a mock-regretful sigh. The werewolf leader just smiled and shook his head, and then Rita was stepping forward, demanding her promised interview. Ash would have slipped off then, but the reporter was insistent on talking to "both heroes," and Bozo also took more pictures of them. As someone who operated on the shady side of the law, it made Ash a little nervous, even though Takeshi and Morrigan seemed to think that the publicity would be good for Lukas.

Rita and Bozo finally left, and to say that they looked pleased with themselves would be an understatement--they were practically salivating, like dogs who had found not just a bone, but a thick, juicy steak. "I just hope she doesn't write a story about a mad werewolf running loose on the streets," Ash said doubtfully.

"In this case, her interests happen to coincide with yours," Morrigan assured him. "She wants the most dramatic story possible, and nothing could be more dramatic than the truth--werewolves risking their lives to rescue a little girl from a rampaging Graphorn. It has everything: drama, danger, excitement, even a bit of sentiment to tug at the heartstrings of the readers. She would be a fool to change it."

"Don't worry, Ash," Lukas told his friend. "Miss Granger and Mr. Potter seem to have worked out some sort of agreement with our intrepid reporter, according to Lupin. Whatever it is, she's been holding up her end of the bargain; all her articles about werewolves since the war ended have been positive, including the coverage of my trial."

"Your students really like you," Ash observed, a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Well, they didn't know me back then, when they first starting blackmailing or bribing or whatever it was they did to Skeeter," Lukas said with a smile. "I think they did it mainly for Lupin's sake. But yes, I think that most of them do like me now. And strangely enough, I find that I like them, too. Some of them are a bit spoiled, but for the most part, they're good kids."

"They've just led a very sheltered life," Morrigan said. "The purebloods, anyway. But they're still young enough to be more flexible than their parents, and you've expanded their view of the world a little."

Morrigan went back to her office, eager to prepare for the next phase of the trial, and Takeshi told Lukas to go home and get some rest. "Well, I guess I'll head back to Hogwarts," Lukas said to Ash. "I ought to tell Dumbledore what happened. Will you tell the pack that I'm all right?"

"Yes, although I'm not looking forward to explaining to a bunch of anxious werewolves that I let you wrestle with a Graphorn," Ash replied in a wry voice.

Lukas grinned, deliberately exposing his teeth in a feral manner. "I'm the pack leader; I do as I please. You didn't 'let' me do anything."

Ash laughed. "I'll be sure to tell them that." As the other werewolf turned to leave, he said, "Hey, Lukas?"

"Yes?"

"I was just thinking that you really are suited to being a teacher, after all."

"What do you mean?" Lukas asked.

"When you were fighting the Graphorn, I remembered reading something about it in one of the books you bought for us cubs," Ash replied with a nostalgic smile. "You taught us mostly practical things--spells, and how to fight, and how to pick pockets or pick a lock. But you also made us read books, and taught us a bit about the history and politics of the wizarding world. Hell, some of the younger ones could barely read or write before you took them in. At first I thought it was strange, you going to work at Hogwarts, but now I see that you were already a teacher long before then."

"I never thought of it that way," Lukas said, looking a little embarrassed. "It was nothing like the kind of education you would have received at Hogwarts. But my parents tutored me since I wasn't allowed to go to school, so I tried to do the same for the young wolves in the pack. Of course, my own education was cut short when my father died, but I was advanced for my age, I guess. There wasn't much to do at home but read. Although my father did teach me swordfighting when I wasn't feeling too ill."

"You were a good teacher," Ash said loyally. "And I always suspected you were highborn." Lukas looked startled, and Ash explained, "You were too well-educated to be a simple street rat like the rest of us. You knew a lot of stuff about history, and the Latin origin of spell incantations, and you knew a lot about the pureblood families. You'd tell us that so-and-so would be an easy mark, while someone from another family dabbled in Dark Magic and we shouldn't mess with them."

Lukas looked chagrined. "Snape saw through me right away, too. I should have been more careful."

Ash smiled. "It's okay. Back then, you told us that everyone had things in their past that they wanted to leave behind. You said that we were all starting over fresh, and all that mattered was that we were a pack now."

"But my past caught up with me," Lukas sighed.

"Never figured you for a high-and-mighty pureblood Lord, though," Ash said with a grin.

"Try not to hold it against me," Lukas laughed. Ash hugged his pack leader gingerly, being careful of his still-healing wounds, and the two werewolves departed to their respective homes.

***

That night at dinner, Lupin was showing off a special evening edition of the Daily Prophet, much to Lukas's embarrassment. "Cut that out, Lupin," he growled.

"But you're a hero, Lukas!" Lupin protested. "You should be proud of yourself!"

"It's not a big deal," Lukas said. "What else was I supposed to do, let the kid get trampled or skewered?"

"It doesn't appear that anyone else lifted a finger to help," Snape observed cynically. "You might as well enjoy your moment of heroism, Diggory. If nothing else, the publicity might sway the trial in your favor."

"Yes, Morrigan and Takeshi said that, too," Lukas admitted. "But I feel a little bad. Jigger helped by binding the Graphorn so Ash could kill it, but the article barely makes any mention of him."

"An elderly Apothecary does not make nearly so interesting a hero as two werewolves," Snape said. "Two very photogenic werewolves, judging by the female students' reactions."

Throughout the Great Hall, students were reading copies of the Daily Prophet; those who didn't have a copy read over the shoulders of those who did. The girls were squealing in both horror (at the pictures of Lukas's bloody robes and wounded chest) and admiration. Lukas's and Lupin's keen ears picked up the whispers of the girls from the nearest table.

"They're so brave!"

"And so handsome! I wish that other werewolf would come teach at Hogwarts, too!"

"His face is scarred."

"I don't mind. In fact, I think it makes him look very bold!"

"Do you think he got it fighting the Graphorn?"

"It looks like an old scar, silly. It couldn't have healed that fast, even if he is a werewolf. Look, Master Diggory's wounds still look bloody."

"Well, I'm sure he got the scar doing something heroic..."

Lupin laughed and Snape smirked in amusement as Lukas groaned, "Idiotic girls!"

"Don't worry about Mr. Jigger," Dumbledore said. "The Ministry gave him the Graphorn corpse as a reward for his services. I assure you, he'd much rather have that than a picture in the Daily Prophet."

"Hmm," Snape said, an acquisitive gleam in his black eyes. "I'll have to put in an order for some Graphorn blood and powdered horn."

"What will happen to the person who let the Graphorn escape?" Lukas demanded.

"He has not been sentenced yet, but my sources tell me that he will likely have to pay a very large fine and serve a few weeks in prison," Dumbledore replied.

"Is that all?" Lukas asked, sounding disgusted. "He endangered the lives of everyone in Diagon Alley; it was sheer good luck that no one was killed!"

"Ah, but you see, Davy Gudgeon cannot pay his fine if he cannot go back to work," Dumbledore explained. "He's currently broke, it seems, and since the Ministry confiscated his Graphorn, he has no current source of income."

"Expediency triumphs over justice at the Ministry once again," Snape said sourly.

"It's not so bad," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "As well as working to pay his fine, he will also be gathering potion ingredients on the Ministry's behalf, for poison antidotes and other beneficial potions."

"Well, that's something, I suppose," Lukas muttered.

"Cheer up, lad," Hagrid told him in a hearty voice. "No one got hurt, thanks ter yeh--"

"Except for Diggory himself," Snape interjected sarcastically.

"--and yeh saved that little girl's life!" Hagrid continued, ignoring him. "Yeh're a hero, Lukas!"

"There's no help for it, my boy," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling mischievously behind his half-moon glasses. He patted Lukas on the shoulder in a comforting manner. "You're a bona fide hero; you'll just have to get used to it."

"How long do you think it will take for all this to wear off?" Lukas asked gloomily.

"People still call Harry 'The Boy Who Lived,'" Lupin pointed out, not very helpfully.

"Yes, but I hardly think that killing a Graphorn is the equivalent of vanquishing the Dark Lord," Snape retorted acerbically.

"I'm sure things will die down after a few weeks, Lukas," Dumbledore said soothingly. "Or possibly a few months."

"Oh, look!" Lupin said. "This article says that you're being nominated for the Order of Merlin!"

Lukas groaned again.

***

Lamont Whitby met with Amos Diggory that night for a private conference. "I'm going to tell you something that you're not going to want to hear, Amos," the lawyer said. "I think you should try to reach an out-of-court settlement with your nephew."

"I will not let that werewolf take over the estate!" Amos shouted.

They were meeting in Amos's study, and Whitby cautioned him, "Lower your voice, Amos; you'll upset your wife." The other wizard subsided, still fuming. "I told you that you weren't going to like it. But it is my duty as your lawyer to advise you that there is a good chance that you will lose this lawsuit, Amos. The odds were in our favor before, but with this..." He threw down a copy of the Daily Prophet on Amos's desk. "The werewolf is now a hero twice over. And worse, he saved the daughter of a high-ranking Ministry official. Peasegood was a staunch opponent of werewolves, but now he's changed his tune. He might persuade others to change theirs, too. After all, how can you call someone a monster when they've just saved a little girl? Even if they had to transform into a beast to do it."

"I promised my parents that I would never let Cynric's brat inherit the title," Amos said adamantly.

"You could lose everything!" Whitby said urgently. "Not just the family estate and fortune, but your own house and savings! The money you earn from your Ministry job has gone into the Diggory family account at Gringotts, not a personal account. If the werewolf wins the trial, he could take it all! I strongly advise you to settle with him, Amos. Grant him the mansion, and offer to divide the money and other properties with him. I think he will agree to it for Gwendolyn's sake, if not for yours."

"No," Amos said stubbornly.

"Damn it, Amos!" Whitby exclaimed in frustration. "You and Helen could wind up on the street with nothing but the clothes on your backs! I know it's galling, but split the estate with the werewolf. What difference does it really make, anyway? It will all come back to Tristan in the end."

"I will not break my vow to my parents!" Amos insisted. "I will never let that beast call himself 'Lord Diggory'! The old Lord Gravenor was right about one thing--we should have drowned that brat when he was still a puppy, before he became a threat to our families!"

Whitby frowned. "Well, that's a bit extreme, but if he had been legally registered as a werewolf when he was a child, that would have given your father grounds to appoint you as heir over Cynric--"

"It doesn't matter what we did or didn't do in the past!" Amos snapped. "What matters now is that I cannot let that werewolf inherit the title! We have to win this lawsuit; there is no other choice!"

"I can't promise you a win, Amos," Whitby said reluctantly. "De Lacy and your nephew have already shot down my strongest argument--that the werewolf was involved in illegal activities when he was still Lukas Bleddri. I can't prove it without witnesses, and now none of the witnesses will testify for fear of incriminating themselves as well. Besides, I doubt that the public really cares now whether he was a thief or a smuggler in the past. Those are minor sins in comparison to someone like, say, Snape, who used to be a Death Eater. His shady past and the fact that he's turned over a new leaf probably make him an even more romantic figure in their eyes." He stared at the newspaper article, grimacing. "At least, that's the picture that Rita Skeeter has painted of him. I was counting on the Wizengamot's prejudice to win the case for you, but if we lose that, we have nothing. I'm not sure how much longer I can string out this trial. If I can't produce new evidence soon, Madam Bones will call for a vote, and at this point, I fear that the vote will go in the werewolf's favor."

"Stall them just a little longer," Amos begged. "Just buy me some time; I'll think of something, try to find some connection between Cyril and something unsavory. He's a Dark Creature and friends with a former Death Eater, for Merlin's sake! There's got to be something!"

"I'll do my best," Whitby sighed. "But think over what I've said, Amos. I know you don't want to break your promise to your parents, but would they really want you thrown out on the street while your nephew becomes Lord of the Manor? At least with a settlement, you'd retain some control over the estate." The lawyer left, and Amos remained alone in the study, brooding, until his worried wife finally called him to bed late in the evening.

***

When Amos reported to work the next morning, he found everyone gossiping about his werewolf nephew, mostly in admiring tones, although they would quickly lower their voices when they noticed him watching them. The newly-converted Peasegood was going around telling everyone that the werewolves were heroes, and he even had the nerve to tell Amos that he should reconsider his position and not let his prejudices blind him. Nymphadora Tonks said nothing to Amos, but she looked quite smug; in fact, she was practically gloating.

By lunchtime, Amos had not only lost his appetite, but was afraid he was beginning to develop an ulcer. He sat alone at a table in the corner of the Ministry cafeteria, far away from everyone else, picking halfheartedly at his food. After a few minutes, Dawlish and Williamson joined him.

"Not feeling peckish, eh, Amos?" Williamson asked sympathetically. "Can't say that I blame you."

"It will blow over soon enough," Dawlish said, trying to sound comforting. "Some new scandal or bit of gossip about some Quidditch player or the Weird Sisters will come along, and everyone will forget about this nonsense. The public is fickle."

"It might not come along in time," Amos said grimly. "My lawyer thinks that we're in danger of losing the trial."

"If there's anything we can do, just let us know," Dawlish said. "Testify as character witnesses, perhaps..."

"Thank you," Amos said, with sincere gratitude, but his smile was a bit strained.

After lunch, Williamson suggested casually, "Why don't we go for a walk, Amos? Some fresh air will do you good. And I could use a smoke."

"That's bad for your health, Ian," Dawlish scolded.

"And who're you, my father?" Williamson retorted, but with a good-natured laugh.

"I just hate to see young people picking up bad habits," Dawlish said, patting him on the shoulder in what did indeed seem like a fatherly manner. He rose from his seat and said, "Go on, Amos, a walk will do you good, and you can keep our young friend out of mischief. I've got to get back to the office and look over some complaints we've received about contraband items being sold at Borgin and Burkes."

Amos and Williamson walked down the street together, and the young Auror led Amos down a deserted alley. He looked around to make sure no one was within earshot, then said in a hushed voice, "You hate the werewolf, and I want to bring down his friend the Death Eater. Maybe we can help each other out."

"What do you mean?" Amos asked, and the Auror explained his plan. Amos felt shocked, frightened, and excited all at once. "You know that we would be in serious trouble if we ever got caught."

"So we won't get caught," Williamson said with a confident grin. "Besides, who will take the word of a werewolf over two respected Ministry officials?"

"Does Richard know about this?" Amos asked.

"Nah, Dawlish is a strictly by-the-book guy," Williamson said. "He wouldn't condone our plan, even if he would like the end results."

"'Our' plan?" Amos asked pointedly.

"Are you in or out?" Williamson retorted impatiently. "If you don't want to go through with it, fine, but do you really want to see that werewolf become Lord of the Manor in your place? Do you really want a pack of wolves having free run of your ancestral home?"

That mental image decided Amos. He had told Whitby that he would find some way to win the trial, and this opportunity had just been dropped in his lap. It wasn't quite what he'd had in mind, and there was a certain amount of risk inherent in it, but he would be a fool to pass it up.

"I'm in," he said.

***

A few days later, dressed in Muggle clothes, Amos and Williamson ventured into the Muggle world and picked up two large dogs from a pound in London. Williamson filled out the paperwork and paid the adoption fees in Muggle cash. He was prepared to cast a Memory Charm if necessary, but the harried clerk gave the paperwork and Williamson's fake ID card only a cursory glance, and just seemed relieved that someone wanted the dogs. "It's hard to find homes for adult dogs, especially ones this large," she said with a smile. "I was afraid that we were going to have to put them down. Most people want cute little puppies."

"We'll take good care of these fellows, never fear," Williamson said with a charming smile, patting the dogs on the head.

He and Amos left the pound, each walking a dog on a leash. Williamson's dog walked obediently by his side, but Amos had trouble controlling his dog as it strained against the leash, obviously wanting to run. "Heel, you stupid mutt!"

Williamson just chuckled. "Just hang onto him until we get them out of sight, then we can use a spell to make him more docile."

"It makes me nervous," Amos grumbled, "walking among Muggles."

"I told you before, it's safer this way," Williamson said impatiently. "It's much less likely that anyone will be able to trace the dogs back to us if anything goes wrong. It's not like we can just stroll into the Magical Menagerie and ask to buy a couple of wolves!"

"They don't even look like wolves," Amos said. "Maybe yours, a little, but mine will never pass, not even in the dark." The dog Williamson was walking was a German Shepherd mix, while the other had wiry fur and floppy ears.

Williamson patted the floppy-eared dog, and it wagged its tail happily. "He looks to be part wolfhound, which is appropriate, as they were bred to hunt wolves, and he will be helping us to snare a werewolf, in a roundabout way. A little magic will take care of any cosmetic differences."

"And where do you plan to hide these beasts when we're not using them?"

"I've rented a place not far from here, under a false name, of course. We'll leave the dogs there with plenty of food and water, and I'll check in on them from time to time. A silence spell will keep the neighbors from hearing any barking, and we'll Apparate in and out to lessen the chances of being seen. You're not getting cold feet, are you, Amos?"

"I don't like it, but I'll do whatever I have to, in order to keep Cyril from taking the estate."

"That's the spirit, Amos! Trust me, we'll have that mangy werewolf sent to Azkaban in no time, and maybe the rest of his pack, too, if we're lucky."

***

Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, things were going smoothly. The students were thrilled to have a hero in their midst, although Lukas was still rather embarrassed about the whole thing. He thought it was ironic that he was getting more acclaim for saving one girl than he and his werewolves had for their part in defeating the Death Eaters.

There were no more pranks and threats, and the older students were busy studying for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, which were fast approaching. And all the students were caught up in the excitement of the resumed Quidditch season. Gryffindor handily beat Ravenclaw that weekend, and most people were convinced that it would be Gryffindor versus Slytherin in the Quidditch Cup finals once again, although Slytherin needed to win their matches against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw to make the finals. (Their match against Ravenclaw was being rescheduled, as the game had been cut short due to the appearance of the false Dark Mark.) Still, the experienced Slytherin team was favored to win over Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, whose teams had several new and inexperienced members.

The Slytherin team was excited about the prospect of finally winning the Cup, and had forgotten their fears, assuming that the increased security and the presence of the Aurors had scared off the prankster. "We won't be scared off by some coward who isn't even man enough to show his face!" Draco declared, and the team cheered. Only later did it occur to him that the Death Eaters had hidden behind masks, and ruled through fear and intimidation. They had operated on a much larger scale, but in essence, had been no better than the mysterious prankster. It was a sobering thought.

Theodore, however, was very happy. Not only were Lupin and Snape getting along, but Snape was getting along with his mother--at least as well as could be expected, given their history. And Lady Selima had accepted his relationship with Blaise. All was well with Theodore's family, and the only slight damper on his happiness was the fact that he couldn't spend much time alone with Blaise. It was a bit frustrating, but they would graduate in a couple of months, and then they would be able to be together. He had spent most of his fifth year and the beginning of his sixth quietly, secretly, and hopelessly loving Blaise without saying anything because he had believed that his love was unrequited. So he could be patient now, content in the knowledge that Blaise loved him.

Blaise, however, had other ideas. One day after practice, as the Slytherin team was leaving the Pitch, he pulled Theodore aside, leading him beneath the stands.

"What are you doing?" Theodore laughed. "Do you know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught?"

"I don't care," Blaise said, kissing him. "I've been going crazy from wanting you; I can't take it anymore!"

"But Blaise," Theodore protested--not very forcefully, he had to admit, "Grandmother told us to be discreet. She'll be upset if we cause another scandal."

"We won't get caught," Blaise said in a coaxing tone. "Besides, how much of a scandal could it really cause? Everyone knows we're a couple."

Theodore felt his resolve waver as Blaise kissed him again--a longer, more demanding kiss this time. "Well..."

"Besides," Blaise whispered in his ear, "I let you talk me into making love in the woods near Lupin's cottage. So you owe me one."

"So it's my fault that you've suddenly turned into an exhibitionist?" Theodore asked with a grin.

"Entirely your fault," Blaise agreed. "Not to mention the fact that you look incredibly sexy in those green robes."

Blaise began undoing the fastenings of the Slytherin team uniform, and Theodore laughed, "Then why are you so eager to get them off?" In response, Blaise pushed him up against a nearby support beam and kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue into Theodore's mouth. Firmly pinned between Blaise's body and the beam, Theodore was unable to squirm away--not that he was trying very hard, mind you. Blaise was rarely this aggressive, and he found that it was an incredible turn-on. "Wow," he gasped breathlessly when Blaise finally broke off the kiss. Blaise just smiled, and feeling slightly dazed, Theodore leaned back against the support beam and allowed Blaise to continue unfastening his robes without further protest. When he was done, Blaise pushed the robes aside and slowly kissed his way down Theodore's exposed neck and chest, teasingly running his tongue across each nipple as Theodore gasped. Then he moaned softly as he felt Blaise's mouth moving across his belly as Blaise sank to his knees and his hands reached up to unfasten the button on Theodore's trousers...

***

Aric's favorite spot to be alone, the Astronomy Tower, had lost some of its appeal after he had been caught drinking there with Draco by Professors Snape, Lupin, and Sinistra. So he decided to go out to the Quidditch Pitch; the Slytherin team should just be finishing up their practice. His timing was perfect; he saw the team and their spectators heading back to the castle as he approached and slipped into the stands unnoticed. He took a seat and stared up at the sky wistfully, remembering how he had played on the Durmstrang team. He wished that he'd held off on antagonizing Theo and Draco long enough to make the team; Quidditch would have proved a welcome distraction and a way to work off some of his frustrations. Now all he could do was sit here and brood about his upcoming marriage. Maybe he should have brought his broomstick; he could at least enjoy the sensation of flying even if he wasn't playing Quidditch...

And then the sound of quiet laughter below him interrupted his thoughts. "Do you know how much trouble we'll be in if we get caught?" he heard his cousin say.

"I don't care," Blaise said. "I've been going crazy from wanting you; I can't take it anymore!"

"But Blaise," Theo protested weakly. "Grandmother told us to be discreet. She'll be upset if we cause another scandal."

"We won't get caught," Blaise said in a coaxing tone. "Besides, how much of a scandal could it really cause? Everyone knows we're a couple."

There was the sound of a kiss, and then Theo said hesitantly, "Well..."

"Besides," Blaise whispered, "I let you talk me into making love in the woods near Lupin's cottage. So you owe me one."

Good Lord, thought Aric with a kind of horrified fascination. Did Snape and Lupin know that Theo and Blaise had been running around having sex in the woods? If they knew, did they care? Did they maybe even encourage it? Like father, like son, after all...and that conjured up an image in his head of Lupin and Snape having sex in the woods. Aric shuddered, vigorously shaking his head in an attempt to wipe that picture out of his mind.

"So it's my fault that you've suddenly turned into an exhibitionist?" Theo asked with laughter in his voice.

"Entirely your fault," Blaise replied. "Not to mention the fact that you look incredibly sexy in those green robes."

There was the sound of rustling cloth, and Theo laughed, "Then why are you so eager to get them off?" There was no verbal reply, but a thump and more kissing noises, then a soft, "Wow," from Theo. More rustling and kissing, then a gasp and a quiet moan. The sound of metal dragging against metal--a fly being unzipped. A slighter louder moan from Theo, and a muffled one from Blaise. The sound of a mouth sliding moistly across flesh...and then Aric realized exactly what they were doing, and to his horror, he felt himself growing hard beneath his robes.

{Damn it!} he told himself fiercely. {I am NOT getting turned on by the thought of my cousin getting a blow job from his boyfriend!} But in his mind, it wasn't Theo or Blaise that he pictured. Aric found himself wondering what Takeshi would look like without his glasses, with his hair unbound. He imagined himself loosening that braid and running his hands through Takeshi's long, coal-black hair. He imagined himself lifting those gold wire-rimmed glasses from the mediwizard's face; they were always sliding down his nose and practically begging to be removed. And then he would plant kisses all over Takeshi's face--forehead, eyelids, cheeks, and finally, his mouth. He imagined his tongue entwining with Takeshi's, his hands exploring beneath those lime-green hospital robes...

Theodore cried out softly, and that sound abruptly snapped Aric back to reality. He found that his hand was creeping towards his crotch as if it had a mind of its own, and he quickly jerked it away and clenched it into a fist. It was bad enough that he was fantasizing about Takeshi; he certainly wasn't going to masturbate in the bloody Quidditch stands with Theo and Blaise right below him! This whole mess was their fault, anyway, he thought disgruntledly, and not quite rationally. He decided to quietly sneak out of the stands and back to the castle, but his distraction made him clumsy, and he tripped and stumbled, falling to his hands and knees with a loud thump.

"Shit!" Theo cursed. "Who's there?!" Before Aric could get back to his feet, his cousin looked up and clearly recognized him through the gaps in the floorboards. "You!" he said furiously, hastily zipping up his trousers as Blaise scrambled to his feet, running the back of his hand across his mouth.

"Were you spying on us?" Blaise demanded, sounding both angry and embarrassed. It was dark beneath the stands, so it was difficult to tell, but Aric was pretty sure that both boys were blushing.

Aric's face was just as red. "I don't get my jollies from watching you two go at it, believe it or not!" he snapped, trying to regain his composure. "I came out to the stands to be alone--the two of you were the ones disturbing MY piece of mind, not the other way around. I was just leaving so that I wouldn't have to listen to you!"

"Right," Theo said skeptically.

"Look, I don't give a damn whether you believe me or not," Aric said. "I'm leaving!"

"Wait!" Theodore cried. "Are...are you going to tell anyone that you saw us here?"

Aric looked down at his cousin's anxious face and realized that he could make Theo squirm if he wanted. Even if Lady Selima was turning a blind eye to Theo's relationship with Blaise, she would be angry if another public incident occurred; Theo had just said so himself. And Snape might be angry with him, too. Or at least a little annoyed.

But then he thought of Takeshi, and his petty spite turned into a wistful longing. And somehow he felt too tired to carry on his vendetta with Theo right now. "Oh, what's the point, Theo?" he asked gruffly. "Our Head of House is your father; at best he'll ignore it, and at worst, he'll punish me instead of you. Besides, everyone already knows you're shagging Zabini. It's not exactly a state secret." Theo stared at him, looking puzzled and suspicious, but Aric didn't bother to try and convince him that he was telling the truth. He left without a backwards glance, heading back to the dorm to take a cold shower.

***

"Do you think he's up to something?" Theodore asked in confusion.

"I don't know," Blaise replied, silently cursing Aric. "But we'd better get out of here in case he does decide to report us to a teacher. If no one finds us here, it's our word against his, and Aric's not exactly Mr. Popularity."

"But you didn't...well...I mean, I didn't get a chance to, uh, return the favor," Theodore said apologetically.

Blaise groaned in frustration, "I know, but I don't fancy being interrupted by McGonagall or Filch or--"

"Okay, okay!" Theodore quickly interrupted, shuddering at the thought; he wasn't sure which prospect he found more daunting. "Let's go. Maybe we can ask Damien and Dylan to make themselves scarce for a little while."

They made their way back to the dorm, Blaise being very grateful that Hogwarts was big on tradition, and required the students to wear the traditional, voluminous wizard's robes as part of their uniform; it would have been impossible to hide his arousal in the Muggle clothing that some of the students favored for casual wear on weekends and holidays.

No teachers confronted them along the way, and Aric was not in sight when they reached the Slytherin common room. The students were gathered in little clusters, gossiping or doing homework or playing games, the same as always; none of the gossip seemed to be about Theodore or Blaise. Serafina and Draco were apparently on speaking terms again, or had at least called a truce, because they were sitting in front of the fireplace together watching Serafina's kitten, Bast, play with a ball of yarn.

"Have you seen Dietrich?" Theodore asked cautiously.

"Yeah, he came stomping in here a few minutes ago, looking mad as hell about something," Draco said with a shrug. "I think he's sulking in his room."

Blaise and Theodore exchanged a puzzled look. If Aric was already here, he must have gone straight back to the dorm without stopping to report them to a teacher first.

Blaise looked around the room, not seeing either of their roommates. "Where are Damien and Dylan?" he asked.

"Pierce went chasing after that Patil girl, where else?" Draco said, sounding bored as he dangled a bit of yarn for Bast to pounce at. "She was watching in the stands today; didn't you notice him trying to impress her with his Quidditch skills? She actually did seem impressed; she was giggling and hanging all over his arm afterwards. And I think Dylan said something about meeting Granger at the library." Draco sighed in annoyance. "I don't understand why they're so obsessed with Gryffindor girls." Theodore and Blaise exchanged another glance, which did not pass unnoticed by Draco. The blond Slytherin boy smirked and added, "But I guess that means you've got your rooms to yourselves today."

They both blushed, but Blaise was too impatient to feel embarrassed for long; he had barely been able to restrain himself from jumping Theo in the halls on the walk back to the dorm. They hurried to Theo's room, and Blaise cast a silence spell on the room, then locked the door and cast a warding spell on it for good measure. The warding spell probably wouldn't hold for long if someone was determined to break it, but it would serve as an obvious "do not disturb" sign if Dylan or Damien should return early and come looking for them.

Once the door was locked and warded, Blaise promptly pushed Theo down on the bed, tugging impatiently at his robes, all but tearing them off.

Theodore laughed, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I like it!" It occurred to him that Blaise was acting an awful lot like Lupin near the full moon, but he tried not to dwell on that thought too closely. As much as he loved his parents, he didn't really want to picture them being intimate with each other.

"Months of frustration!" Blaise exclaimed. "The last time we made love was Christmas night!" He jokingly added, "You know, I'm a little insulted that you don't seem to share my frustration."

"Ah, but you have only yourself to blame," Theodore pointed out with a grin. "You did just...ah...relieve my frustration under the Quidditch stands, after all."

"What did I tell you about Slytherin boys and the Quidditch stands?" Blaise purred into his ear, referring to the time on Valentine's Day when he had been determined to ward off any hypothetical suitors from romancing his little sister beneath the stands.

"You're wicked, love," Theodore said in a husky voice.

"I am a Slytherin, after all," Blaise retorted. He quickly got both of them undressed, then hesitated, panting heavily, filled with an unfamiliar and almost uncontrollable urge to possess and claim his lover completely. He had missed Theo much more than he realized; maybe he just wanted to reassure himself that Theo was still his. "Can I...take you?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice, not sure how Theo would react. He was usually content to let Theo be the dominant partner; that Christmas night was the only time their roles had been reversed.

But Theo just smiled at him sweetly and whispered, "Yes," looking completely relaxed, even eager. There was no anxiety, no fear in his eyes, and none of the distant aloofness that had so often come between them before. For once, his gray-green eyes did not look murky or troubled, but were filled only with love and desire--and most importantly, trust.

Blaise quickly reached into the nightstand drawer for the half-filled vial of lavender oil, which had been lying there gathering dust since Christmas. Theodore moaned as Blaise prepared him with his fingers, feeling passion beginning to stir within him again despite his recent orgasm. The truth was that Blaise's aggressiveness excited him, and it delighted him to know how much Blaise wanted him. With another Slytherin, Theo might have feared that sex was merely another type of power play, but he knew that Blaise only wanted to love him. Along with Snape and Lupin, Blaise was the person that Theodore trusted most in all the world.

"Enough," gasped Theo, and Blaise took him at his word; he had nearly bitten through his lower lip in an attempt to keep himself from simply pouncing on Theo, the way Bast had been pouncing on the ball of yarn. But he pounced now, and thrust hard and fast into Theo, too far gone to be slow or gentle. Theo didn't seem to mind--quite the opposite, in fact; Blaise could feel something hard pressing into his belly as Theo groaned urgently, raising his body to meet Blaise's thrusts. Blaise continued thrusting into Theo at an even more frantic pace as he wrapped his hand around Theo's erection, relishing his lover's loud cries of pleasure. Overwhelmed by pent-up lust and frustration, it wasn't long before he came inside Theo, and kept stroking until Theo came as well.

Afterwards, he snuggled up against Theo, sighing contentedly as he rested his head on his lover's chest. "Happy now?" Theo chuckled, stroking Blaise's hair affectionately. "You're practically purring; you remind me of Bast."

Blaise laughed wickedly. "You have no idea how apt an analogy that is. I was just thinking a little while ago how much I wanted to pounce on you!"

"Purr for me, kitten," Theodore teased.

"Mrrow!" Blaise said, playfully nipping at Theodore's earlobe. They indulged in a bit of leisurely kissing and caressing before Theodore reluctantly pulled away and sat up in bed.

"We'd better get cleaned up and dressed before Dylan walks in on us," he said regretfully.

"The warding spell would warn him off, but I suppose you're right," Blaise sighed.

Theodore kissed him, grinning mischievously. "Cheer up, school will be out in a couple of months. Besides, all those months of frustration were worth it, to see you so...ah..."

"Horny?" Blaise asked with a wry smile.

"I was going to say 'passionate,'" Theodore laughed, kissing him again. "Today was very...intense."

"We'll see how 'intense' things get in June, after we graduate," Blaise grumbled. "Although I'm hoping to steal a little time alone with you before then. Or I might explode."

"It won't kill you," Theodore said cheerfully, and Blaise glared at him. Theodore laughed, then kissed him on the forehead and said tenderly, "Love you, Blaise."

Blaise's frown melted into a smile as he marveled once again at how much Theo had come to love and trust him. It was a miracle, considering Theodore's background--all the abuse he had endured, and all the terrible secrets he had kept to himself for so long. And Blaise had helped bring this miracle about; the thought of it filled him with a sense of joy and awe.

"I love you, too, Theo," he whispered, and suddenly two months didn't seem like such a long time, after all.

Part 74