FIC: Aftermaths, Part 79

[geri_chan]

Title: Aftermaths, Part 79
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: ~10,205
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: Takeshi gets a visit from his brother; Lukas tries to blackmail Amos.

Part 78 (Previous chapters can be found under the aftermaths tag.)

***

Glossary of Japanese terms:

Oniisan (or shortened form Niisan)=Older brother

Okaasan=Mother

Otoosan=Father

-kun=Suffix added to a name; used by a superior when addressing a subordinate, or by close friends and family members. Usually used only when addressing a boy in the second case.

-chan=Similar to "kun" but usually refers only to girls or young children.

-hime=Princess (In this case, it refers to Professor Chizuru from "Phoenix Rising," who is the daughter of the ruler of the crane clan).

***

Takeshi stifled a yawn as he bottled up a batch of healing salve at St. Mungo's. He was exhausted, but fortunately, it had been a slow day with few patients to tend. He had finally stopped dreaming about the black wolf, but he wasn't sleeping any easier, because he had still dreamt of Aric nearly every night since his drunken visit to the clinic. Only instead of dreaming of Aric turning into a wolf (or rather, the wolf turning into Aric), he dreamt that he had not stopped Aric and sent him home that night. In his dreams, he gave in to desire and let Aric take him right on top of the desk. Or bent over the desk. And once, even under the desk. Which would probably be rather unpractical and uncomfortable, if not downright impossible in real life, but practical details didn't really matter in a dream. Another time he dreamt that they made love on the examining table, which they had never even gone near during Aric's visit. But it seemed that Takeshi's subconscious had no problem coming up with a seemingly endless variety of places and positions in which to have sex.

The dreams were starting to scare him, because the sex was so good, his climaxes so intense, that he feared no real lover would ever be able to compare. Certainly none of his past encounters could match the intensity of his dreams--not his first love from Japan; not his last serious boyfriend, a former Ravenclaw classmate; and not even his werewolf friends Kian and Ash. He yearned for the dreams, because they were the only way he could be with Aric, and he hated them at the same time, because they were only an illusion. There were several illegal types of narcotic potions that would give the users blissful dreams, and he didn't want to end up like the addicts he'd seen treated at St. Mungo's--pathetic, pitiable creatures who preferred false dreams to bleak reality, and who lived only for their next fix. Takeshi feared he was becoming addicted to the dreams, but unlike the potion addicts, he couldn't make the dreams cease simply by not taking a potion. And the dreams always made him feel worse than ever when he awoke to find himself alone, his loneliness and despair magnified by the joy he'd felt in his dreams--rather like drinking a sweet potion that left a bitter aftertaste in your mouth.

Working himself into a state of exhaustion no longer seemed to stave off the dreams, so he found himself sleeping as little as possible. But he couldn't stay awake forever, of course, so eventually he would fall asleep and the dreams would come. And then he would awaken feeling so lonely and frustrated and angry that what little sleep he got was not restful at all.

"I'll finish up," a voice said, startling Takeshi and nearly causing him to drop the jar of healing salve he was holding. "Why don't you go home early, Mr. Kimura?"

"Healer Smethwyck!" Takeshi exclaimed, looking up to see his supervisor smiling at him in a concerned manner. "But I still have another hour left on my shift."

"It's a slow day; I'm sure we can manage without you." Smethwyck gave him a stern look. "And I want you to go straight home. No stopping by the clinic."

"But I--"

"I've sent Mr. Pye to keep an eye on things for a couple of hours. It's more than a week till the full moon, and there's a good supply of Wolfsbane Potion on hand, so everything should be fine."

"But--"

"If an emergency does come up involving the werewolves, I promise I'll call you," Smethwyck said. "Now go home and get some rest. You won't be doing your patients any good if you're so tired that you put the wrong ingredients into a potion or fall asleep in the middle of treating a patient."

Takeshi had been careful so far not to let his fatigue affect his work, but he knew that Smethwyck was right. "Yes, sir," he said meekly.

So he signed out and took the Floo home. But when he stepped through the fireplace into his living room, he caught sight of someone sitting on the couch--which should be empty, since he lived alone and wasn't expecting company. He automatically started to chant an incantation as he reached for his wand until he recognized his uninvited guest.

The man sitting on the couch was tall and handsome, with glossy, shoulder-length black hair pulled back in a ponytail, and he was wearing a long kimono of indigo silk dyed with a pattern of stylized white feathers. Ichiro Kimura grinned and said in Japanese, "Is that any way to greet your elder brother?"

"Oniisan!" Takeshi shouted, and ran forward to hug his brother. And as his brother's arms folded around him, Takeshi suddenly felt tears well in his eyes, although he didn't know why. Maybe it was just that his brother's embrace felt so familiar and comforting after everything he'd been through in the past few weeks.

Ichiro must have sensed his mood, because he held Takeshi a little longer and a little more tightly than he normally would have. But then Ichiro released him, and Takeshi blinked back his tears and attempted to smile in a cheerful manner. "What are you doing here, Oniisan? You should have told me you were coming; I nearly hit you with a stunning spell just now! Things are a little tense right now in London, with the anti-werewolf faction up in arms. I thought for a moment that a vigilante had somehow broken into my apartment."

"I'm sorry," Ichiro said. "I didn't mean to startle you. I thought I would pay you a surprise visit, but I should have realized you would be nervous, since you wrote to me about people throwing rocks and eggs at the clinic in your last letter. But you did a good job on your protective wards; they're all still intact. I was only able to enter because you had enspelled them to allow family members to pass through the wards."

"So why are you here, Niisan?" Takeshi asked, although he could probably guess at the answer. "Isn't everyone busy getting ready for Chizuru-hime's wedding? Okaasan said that your family has been commissioned to make the robes for the bride and groom and their attendants." Ichiro was married to the daughter of the Head Weaver of the crane clan. A skilled weaver himself, he had met his future bride while working as an apprentice under her mother.

"I can spare an hour or two to visit my dear little brother," Ichiro said with a smile. "Portkey travel is instantaneous, after all. As for why I'm here--our parents are worried about you, Takeshi-kun. They say that you haven't stopped by the restaurant for over two weeks, and Otoosan says you looked very tired when he helped you set the wards on your werewolf friend's bookstore. Even your supervisor at St. Mungo's seemed concerned about you, when I contacted him and asked if he could send you home early today."

"Ah, so that's why he sent me home early," Takeshi murmured, feeling a little chagrined. Even his boss was conspiring with his family against him--for his own good, of course.

"I can see why they're worried," Ichiro said. "You look terrible; you have dark circles under your eyes, and you look like you haven't slept in days."

"I'm fine," Takeshi said, not very convincingly.

"Won't you tell me what's wrong, Take-chan?" Ichiro asked gently, using his old childish nickname for Takeshi, which he had not used in many years.

And that was all it took for Takeshi to break down and spill out the whole story of Aric and the betrothal and Roderick Dietrich's stroke, and even the dreams, as embarrassing as it was to discuss such a thing with his brother. He wasn't sure how much of this Ichiro actually understood, as he kept switching back and forth from Japanese to English, and was sobbing between words by the end. But Ichiro listened patiently, saying nothing, but nodding occasionally, and when Takeshi finally finished speaking, he wrapped his arms around his younger brother and held him close, allowing him to weep on his shoulder.

By the time the tears finally stopped flowing, Takeshi was exhausted and his eyes and throat were sore, but strangely enough, he did feel a little better. He lifted his head from his brother's shoulder, and took off his glasses and wiped them on his robe. He then started to wipe his face on his sleeve, but Ichiro conjured up a handkerchief and handed it to him.

"Why didn't you tell us what was wrong earlier?" Ichiro gently chided.

"I'm sorry," Takeshi said, wiping his face. "I didn't want to worry you. And I didn't really want to talk about it. It hurts so much to talk about Aric, or even just to think about him. Only I can't stop thinking about him. And I should have known that Okaasan and Otoosan would be worried about me. I'm sorry."

"You have been searching for your true love for most of your life," Ichiro said in a musing tone. Takeshi flushed; his family often called him a romantic and gently teased him for his fondness for fairy tales. "But as it often happens, it seems that love found you when you were not looking for it."

"This isn't how it was supposed to be!" Takeshi wailed. "I never thought that when I found my true love, he'd be engaged to someone else!"

"Not all fairy tales end happily, Take-chan," Ichiro said quietly. "But this boy, he does love you?"

"Yes," Takeshi said miserably. "For all the good that does. It would be easier to let go of him if he didn't."

"And you believe that his family has deceived him?" Ichiro asked.

"I think so," Takeshi replied. "I couldn't question the staff too closely without making them curious as to why I was asking, so I can't be absolutely certain. But I believe that Aric arrived at the hospital after the Healers had already stabilized his grandfather."

"Then perhaps you should tell him this?" Ichiro suggested.

"I couldn't!" Takeshi protested. "I don't want to tear him apart, between his family and me! And won't it seem like I'm bad-mouthing his family in a desperate attempt to win him over?"

"If he truly loves you, he will not think so ill of you," Ichiro said.

Takeshi wasn't so sure. He loved Aric, but he was also aware of his beloved's shortcomings: his prejudices and his short temper. The first reaction of a typical pureblood when something went wrong was to look for someone else to blame, as the Dietrich family had blamed Theodore for Rafe's death. And Aric loved his family, and was a little scared of his feelings for Takeshi. He might well react instinctively and lash out against the bearer of bad news.

"He is scared," Takeshi said. "The pureblood elite generally do not react very well to change, and I have unintentionally turned his world upside-down. But it isn't just that. He will be hurt if I tell him that his family has deceived him, and I don't want to cause him any more pain than I already have."

"And you don't think that it will hurt him to be trapped in a loveless marriage for the rest of his life?" Ichiro asked pointedly. "What are you really afraid of, Takeshi?"

"I'm afraid that he'll still choose his family over me," Takeshi whispered. "I'm afraid that I will lose him a second time. I don't know how many more times I can stand to have my heart broken."

"He is already lost to you now," Ichiro said bluntly. "What do you have left to lose?" When Takeshi remained silent, Ichiro added, "Sometimes you can't just wait for love to come to you, Takeshi-kun. Sometimes you have to fight for it."

"It's asking a lot of him, to give up his family for me," Takeshi sighed. "I don't know that I would be able to do the same thing for him."

"It will still be his choice," Ichiro said. "I can't promise that he will choose you."

"Aren't you supposed to be cheering me up?" Takeshi asked wryly.

"But he should make his decision based on the truth and not a lie," Ichiro continued. "If someone that you loved deceived you, wouldn't you want to know the truth even if it hurt?"

"Yes," Takeshi admitted reluctantly.

"By trying to protect him, you are taking the choice out of his hands," Ichiro said. "Tell Aric the truth and let him make his own decision."

"Yes, Niisan," Takeshi said meekly. "But he's in the middle of taking his exams right now. I'll talk to him after the N.E.W.T.s are over. I don't want him failing his N.E.W.T.s because he was too upset to concentrate."

"Fine, but don't wait too long," Ichiro cautioned. "Or you'll end up watching him walk down the aisle with that girl Miranda."

Takeshi felt a sudden stab of fear and pain at the thought. "Yes, Niisan."

Ichiro hugged him and said in a kinder voice, "I know this is hard for you, Take-chan. The blood of our ancestors flows strong in you. That can be a curse as well as a gift."

Which reminded Takeshi that he had not been entirely forthcoming with Aric about certain other things as well. "Do you think he would still love me if he knew?" Takeshi asked in a small voice.

"If he doesn't, then he is not worthy of you," Ichiro said firmly. He hugged his brother once more and said, "I have to go now. You were right; we are busy preparing for the wedding. But write to me, or take the Portkey to see me, if you need someone to talk to. And go show your face at the Sakura so that Okaasan will stop worrying."

"I will, Oniisan."

Ichiro smiled at his brother tenderly. "And when all this is over, come visit me in Japan. Hopefully with your young man by your side. But if not, at least let the people who love you share the burden of your sorrow."

"Thank you, Oniisan," Takeshi said, giving his brother one last hug. "I promise I will come visit you no matter what happens. But I cannot leave until I am sure that my werewolf friends will be safe."

"If worse comes to worst, then bring them with you," Ichiro said with a grin.

"A pack of wolves running loose among the cranes?" Takeshi laughed. "That will cause some feathers to fly!"

Ichiro laughed as well, then departed through the Floo, to go back to the Sakura and take the Portkey home to Japan. And Takeshi found that while the thought of losing Aric still hurt, he didn't feel quite as alone as he had before. Although he had been trying to conceal his pain from his family, he was glad now that his brother had come.

***

Takeshi decided to attend the Quidditch Cup finals at Hogwarts; the N.E.W.T.s would be over by then, and it would be a good excuse to stop by the school and talk to Aric. What he had to say needed to be said in person, not through a letter. It was not unusual for alumni to attend school games and chat with old friends and teachers, and since he was friends with Remus and Lukas, his visit should not arouse any undue suspicions. Perhaps Remus could even arrange for him to discreetly meet Aric in private; he knew that the werewolf would like nothing better than to play matchmaker for them. Remus was an optimist; deep in his heart, he believed that love would triumph over all. But Takeshi was not nearly so optimistic, and he was dreading the thought of facing Aric. Because right now he could cling to a fragile thread of hope that Aric might change his mind when he learned that his family had tricked him into agreeing to the betrothal. But once he spoke to Aric, it would all be over, for good or for ill. If Aric decided to remain with his family and marry Miranda, then this time his decision would be final, and although it was cowardly of him, Takeshi would rather live with this agonizing uncertainty than lose hope altogether.

And Aric might be angry, if he didn't want to believe that his family had lied to him; he might choose to blame Takeshi rather than admit to himself that his family had betrayed him. And while Takeshi had never lied to Aric, he had deceived by omission, by failing to tell Aric certain things about himself and his background. A casual friend or a one night stand did not need to know these things, but a lifemate did. Aric deserved to know the whole truth before he made his decision, even if it turned him against Takeshi in the end. But if they had to part, he did not want his last vision of his beloved's face to be one filled with anger and contempt. And then he flushed with shame as he remembered that their last meeting had ended in angry words, at least on his part. Those words had not been entirely unjustified, but still...perhaps, if nothing else, he could at least say goodbye properly to Aric this time.

"Takeshi!" a voice shouted, breaking his train of thought. "Hey, Takeshi!"

Takeshi blinked and saw that Augustus Pye was standing in front of him. "Yes, Augustus?" he asked politely.

"I called your name about five times!" Pye exclaimed. "I thought for a minute that maybe you had been stunned or petrified!" Then the young Trainee Healer grinned. "Or that you'd fallen asleep standing up. You've been looking awfully tired lately."

"No, I was just lost in thought," Takeshi said with a smile. "What can I do for you, Augustus?"

"I know it's short notice, but can you please switch days off with me?" Pye asked. He clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. "Please? You would be a real lifesaver! I really need next Friday off."

"Friday?" Takeshi asked. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I was planning to attend the Hogwarts Quidditch finals."

"Please?" Pye begged. "It's really important, and no one else is able to switch with me! I promise I'll make it up to you!"

"What's so special about Friday?" Takeshi asked.

Pye blushed. "You see...there's this girl I'm dating, and it's her mother's birthday. They're having a party for her that day, and it will look bad if I don't show up. My girlfriend's family is very well-to-do, and I get the impression that they think she could do a little better than a Trainee Healer. Skipping the party won't make me look any better in their eyes."

"Well..." Takeshi said hesitantly. He had been mentally preparing himself to face Aric at the match, and he didn't really want to change his plans, but he could certainly feel a bit of sympathy for someone who was also having problems in his lovelife.

"Come on, Takeshi," Pye wheedled, sensing a weakening in the mediwizard's resolve. "Ravenclaw isn't even playing in the finals this year."

Takeshi couldn't tell him the real reason that he wanted to go to the match, of course. "No, but it will be Harry Potter's final game at Hogwarts. That's certainly worth seeing. And I wanted to visit Remus and Lukas, and say hello to Professor Flitwick."

"You can go see the Professors anytime; it doesn't have to be at the match," Pye said. "I know it's rotten of me to ask you to miss the match, but I have a cousin who goes to Hogwarts, and I promise I'll have him record it for you. And I'll volunteer at the clinic to make it up to you--I'll go in on my days off for an entire month! Please, please, please, Takeshi--I really need to make a good impression on her parents!"

Takeshi sighed. "Is it serious between you and this girl, then?"

A silly, lovestruck grin spread across Pye's face. "I think she's the future Mrs. Pye," he said.

Well, Takeshi supposed that he didn't really have to talk to Aric at the match. He could stop by Hogwarts later that night after he got off work. Or maybe the next day. Part of him was relieved to have an excuse to postpone what was likely to be his final confrontation with Aric. And it would be good to have a substitute to fill in at the clinic, especially since he'd promised his parents that he'd stop pulling so many double shifts. Pye was a decent sort who didn't object to treating werewolves, and he did volunteer at the clinic for a few hours here and there, although not as regularly as Takeshi did. The only problem was that his lack of a proper bedside manner tended to put his patients off. The young Healer was so enthusiastic about his work that he tended to view his patients as interesting case subjects, and the werewolves in particular did not like being viewed as lab experiments. Pye didn't mean any harm by it, and his enthusiasm was motivated by a desire to help his patients, but he sometimes forgot that his patients were often frightened and traumatized (since he worked in Creature-Induced Injuries), and that they might need some gentle reassurance from their Healer just as much as they needed his healing skills. But Smethwyck was confident that Pye would mature with time, and learn to temper his enthusiasm with compassion.

"Well," Takeshi said, with a great show of reluctance, "I usually visit my relatives in Japan during the summer, and I do need someone to look after the clinic while I'm gone..."

"I'll do it!" Pye said eagerly. "You can count on me!"

"...but I'll probably be gone for two months, not one."

"No problem!" Pye promised recklessly.

Takeshi had to smile, in spite of his worries. "You shouldn't be so quick to agree to everything I say, Augustus. If I were a Slytherin, I would be taking shameless advantage of you."

Pye grinned and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm in a bind, and you know it. Besides, I don't mind helping out at the clinic."

"All right," Takeshi said. "I'll work your shift next Friday if you'll help out at the clinic this summer. I hope this girl is worth it."

"Oh, she definitely is!" Pye said dreamily. "Thanks, Takeshi!"

"I'm probably getting the better end of the deal, but you're welcome," Takeshi replied. The Healer walked off, whistling cheerfully, and Takeshi stared after him with a wistful smile, wishing that his own problems could be solved so easily.

***

But soon Takeshi had bigger problems to worry about. The day before the Quidditch match, Kyra and Brian showed up to see him at the hospital, looking distraught, angry, and tearful. After he heard what they had to say, he sent them back home and warned them to stay put and to tell the other werewolves not to leave the house, either. Then he contacted Morrigan De Lacy and Tonks. And finally, grateful that Pye owed him a favor, he asked the Trainee Healer to cover for him, got permission from Smethwyck to leave, and took the Floo to Hogwarts.

***

Lukas received a message that afternoon to report to the Headmaster's office, and found Takeshi waiting there, looking pale, frightened, guilty, and close to tears. Dumbledore, Lupin, and Snape were there as well, looking very concerned.

"Oh no," Lukas groaned. "What have the Aurors done this time? Has there been another werewolf attack?"

"I'm so sorry, Lukas!" Takeshi cried, bowing deeply in a gesture of contrition, so low that the end of his braid brushed against the floor. "It's all my fault!"

It alarmed Lukas to see the normally calm and composed mediwizard in a state of near-hysteria, and he grabbed Takeshi by the arm and pulled him up--a bit more roughly than he'd intended--and growled, "Stop that and just tell me what happened!"

"It's Ash," Takeshi said, his eyes filled with tears. "He's been arrested for selling contraband goods!"

"WHAT?!" roared Lukas

Takeshi flinched a little, but remained where he was standing, which might have impressed Lukas if he had not been consumed with anger and fear. Even his werewolves would back away cringing in fear when he was that angry.

"I'm so sorry, Lukas!" Takeshi repeated.

Snape stepped forward and said in a cool voice, "This is cause for concern, of course, but I fail to see why Mr. Kimura should be held accountable for Mr. Randolf being arrested."

Lukas wasn't really angry at Takeshi, but he could see that Snape thought he was, and was prepared to defend his former student if Lukas should attack him. So the werewolf leader released Takeshi's arm and backed off a few paces, and beneath his rage and fear, he felt a spark of amusement, that the Potions Master, whom the students lived in fear of, should be so protective of those very same students. Poor Snape; he would be mortified if he knew what Lukas was thinking, so the werewolf kept this observation to himself.

"It is my fault, Professor," Takeshi said in a low voice, looking guilty and miserable. "I gave Ash the video games he was selling. My brother sends them from Japan, and I pass them on to Ash."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You're involved in Muggle merchandise smuggling, Mr. Kimura? And you were always such a model student. I'm positively shocked." But although his voice was stern, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he were trying not to smile.

"I don't understand," Lupin said in a puzzled voice. "Video games might be frowned upon by the more traditional wizards, but they're not illegal."

"Ash was selling them without a license," Takeshi said. "But that's not the main problem; normally such an offense would only merit a fine. But one of the games Ash sold was...er...I believe that the Muggle term is a 'first person shooter' game." The other wizards all stared at him blankly, and he explained, "Basically you take on the role of the lead character and shoot your enemies with a gun."

"How crude," Snape said disdainfully.

"The game has a plastic gun as a controller, that you point at the TV screen to aim and shoot," Takeshi continued. "And that's the problem. Ash has been arrested for selling illegal Muggle weaponry."

"That's ridiculous!" Lukas shouted. "For selling a toy gun?"

"The game is a somewhat realistic simulation game, where you start off shooting at targets and graduate to shooting at people," Takeshi said, grimacing slightly. "In poor taste, perhaps, but not illegal. But the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office is taking the position that the game is a learning device that teaches people how to shoot, and therefore falls under the ban on Muggle weaponry."

"Dawlish and Williamson are behind this," Lukas growled.

"I believe so," Takeshi said. "Although the Aurors are only supposed to deal with Dark Magic, not illegal Muggle devices. I can't prove it, of course, but I'm sure that they're the ones who tipped off the people at Muggle Artifacts about Ash, and convinced them to arrest him."

"Why was that idiot out selling video games in the first place?" Lukas demanded. "I told the pack to lie low until this mess was over!"

"Kyra says that Ash got a message from one of his customers, who wanted that game and a few others, and was willing to pay double the normal price for them," Takeshi said. "It was someone that Ash had done business with on a regular basis, so he wasn't suspicious. Even then, he wouldn't have disobeyed your orders, but with so many of the pack out of work, he thought they needed the extra money..."

"That idiot!" Lukas shouted, slamming his fist down on Dumbledore's desk. The force of that blow knocked over a picture frame and a candy dish that were sitting on the desk, sending several lemon drops rolling across the desk and onto the floor. Dumbledore's pet phoenix, Fawkes, who had been dozing quietly in the corner, woke with a start and shot up from his perch with an indignant squawk. He flapped around the room in agitated manner, before allowing Dumbledore to coax him back down and soothe him with a piece of candy.

"Kyra and the others tried to stop him, but you know how stubborn Ash is," Takeshi said apologetically.

"Yes, I know," Lukas sighed. "Almost as stubborn as his pack leader."

"I'm very sorry. If I hadn't given him the games--" Takeshi started to say.

"It's not your fault," Lukas interrupted. "He was working in the black market long before he met you. He would not have been arrested if he had stayed put at home like he was supposed to."

"I called Ms. De Lacy and Tonks," Takeshi said. "They're both still at the Ministry, trying to get him freed." He started to look guilty again. "Tonks says that he's refused to tell them where he got the games from."

"If the games are labeled in Japanese, I doubt that it would take a genius to figure it out," Snape said dryly. "And since no one has come to arrest you yet, they probably don't care. They don't want you, Mr. Kimura. They want a werewolf, someone close to Diggory, that they can use against him. Although I would keep a low profile if I were you. They might start coming after the werewolves' allies next."

"I'm not afraid," Takeshi said. "Healer Smethwyck will stand up for me, and the Japanese council of wizards won't simply stand by and let me be thrown in Azkaban. Both my parents come from families of old lineage and high rank back home. Perhaps it would be better if I took responsibility for the games instead of Ash; I don't think the Ministry would risk causing an international incident over it."

Lupin gave the mediwizard a startled and curious look, and Lukas was suddenly very curious himself. The Kimuras never talked much about their family back home, and he'd had no idea that they were wizards of high rank. Although the Sakura was a popular and profitable restaurant, shopkeepers and merchants were usually regarded as "middle class" at best by the pureblood elite, no matter how prosperous they were.

Snape did not look particularly surprised, though, and come to think of it, he had once mentioned something vague about Haruko belonging to an old and noble clan. "That would not be wise, Mr. Kimura," Snape said sternly. "Even if you took all the blame, I don't think that they would release Mr. Randolf. Even if you provided him with the games, he was still the one who was caught selling them. And now that the Dark Lord is defeated, the Ministry no longer needs its Japanese allies. I don't think that they would imprison you if the council protested, but they would likely deport you, and Mr. Randolf would still be in prison."

"Then what should we do, Professor?" Takeshi asked humbly. Before Snape could reply, green flames flared up in the fireplace and Morrigan entered the room.

"What happened?" Lukas asked anxiously. "Were you able to get Ash released?"

"No, I am sorry, I was not," Morrigan said wearily. "A hearing will be held next week, after the full moon has passed, and I will be allowed to argue for bail or a dismissal then. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement does not want a rogue werewolf running around during the full moon."

"Ash isn't a rogue!" Lukas protested hotly.

"I know that, and you know that!" Morrigan snapped; it seemed that her patience had been tested by the incident as well. "But the Ministry does not. Dawlish and Williamson have been playing on their colleagues' prejudice and paranoia, and the idea of a werewolf is scary enough on its own, let alone a werewolf wielding Muggle firearms." As Lukas opened his mouth to protest again, Morrigan quickly added, "And you don't have to tell me that it was only a toy gun! It's a ridiculous charge, and against anyone else, it would have been immediately dismissed. But Mr. Randolf is not anyone else. He is a werewolf, and right now werewolves are objects of fear and suspicion, however unfair that may be."

"That meeting was a setup, wasn't it?" Takeshi asked.

Morrigan nodded. "Mr. Randolf's client was caught in possession of illegal Muggle artifacts, and he agreed to help lure Mr. Randolf into a trap in order to avoid being prosecuted."

"Can you convince the Ministry to drop the charges when the hearing takes place, Morrigan?" Lupin asked, looking concerned. "And will Ash be safe until then?"

"There are no more Dementors in Azkaban," Morrigan replied. "And I think that Dawlish and Williamson will want to keep him alive for now, if only as a hostage to use against Lukas. I believe he will be safe enough, at least until the hearing. But I don't know if I can get him released."

"And Arthur is unable to help?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Morrigan nodded. "Most of the Ministry already believes that he has been giving the werewolves special treatment, thereby putting humanity at risk. Miss Tonks says that a petition has been circulating around the Ministry, calling for Arthur Weasley to be removed as Minister. I think it's very likely that a conclave of the Wizengamot will be called for within a few weeks to remove Arthur and select a new Minister."

"We can't let that happen!" Lupin cried.

"You can't stop it," Morrigan said. "Not unless you expose the truth behind the so-called werewolf attacks."

The time had come for Lukas to make his choice, and it seemed that he would have to choose practicality. He felt a pang of regret that he would not be able to kill Amos after all. But Cynric and Anya were dead, and nothing could bring them back, while Ash was still alive, and it was his duty to protect his pack.

"I might be able to help," Lukas said, with a bitter little smile. "I think I can get Amos to back off, at least. And depending on how much influence he has over Dawlish and Williamson, perhaps he can bring them to heel as well."

Everyone stared at him in bewilderment. "What are you talking about, Diggory?" Snape asked, sounding both confused and annoyed. "If you have something on your uncle, why haven't you used it before this?"

"It's some information that only came to light recently," Lukas said.

"Does this have something to do with that en--?" Morrigan started to ask.

"Shh," Lukas said, laying a finger across his lips. "Lawyer/client confidentiality, Morrigan."

Lupin, Snape, Dumbledore, and Takeshi turned to stare at Morrigan, who fell silent, looking unhappy and worried. "What are the two of you talking about?" Lupin asked.

Lukas knew he ought to tell them, but he needed to keep this to himself for awhile longer. He knew that Amos wouldn't talk in front of witnesses, and he wanted to know what had really happened to Cynric. He thought that there was a chance that Amos would actually tell him the truth if they were alone and Lukas confronted him with the papers.

"This is between me and Amos," Lukas said. "If it works out, I'll tell you about it afterwards."

"Lukas, this really isn't wise," Morrigan said, still looking worried. "If you have some sort of hold over Amos, fine, but let me handle the negotiations."

"No," Lukas said firmly. "I need to handle this on my own. Remember my instructions to you."

"Lukas!" Dumbledore called after him as he turned away. The old wizard gave him a stern look, as if addressing a recalcitrant student rather than a teacher. "We are your friends, Lukas, and we wish to help you and your pack. We will be more effective working together than alone."

Everyone in Hogwarts, students and teachers alike, deferred to Dumbledore, even Snape, however much he sometimes grumbled about it. But Lukas was the leader of a wolf pack, and he bowed to no man, not even the most powerful mage in the wizarding world. "This is between me and Amos," he said adamantly, then turned and walked out of the room before anyone could argue with him further.

***

"Morrigan?" Lupin asked. "What's going on? What sort of information does Lukas have? It sounds like he intends to blackmail Amos!"

"I have to respect my client's confidentiality, Remus," Morrigan said unhappily. "And to be honest, I don't really know much more than you do. But keep a close eye on him; I'm afraid that he might do something foolish." Then she exited through the Floo before Lupin could question her further.

"Lukas is very stubborn," Takeshi sighed. "All the werewolves are, actually, but Lukas is the worst of the lot. I suppose that's partly why he became the pack leader. Some of the werewolves resisted his efforts to build a pack in the early years, but none of them could hold out against his determination."

"He is a great deal like his father," Dumbledore said, shaking his head and smiling sadly. "Although he is more serious and less mischievous than Cynric was, but I suppose that's not surprising, considering the life he has led. Well, we will have to do as Ms. De Lacy said, and try to watch over Lukas until we can figure out what is going on."

"Great," Snape grumbled. "Now I get to baby-sit two werewolves instead of one."

***

A short time later, an owl arrived at the Diggory home and dropped off a letter for Amos. His face turned pale when he opened and read it:

Dear Uncle,

Have you looked at the family histories recently? If you have, then perhaps you might have noticed that there are a couple of pages missing from Lord Cyrus Diggory's diary. I've enclosed a copy of one of the pages to jog your memory. If you don't want this information published in the Daily Prophet, call off your attack dogs. I want the Aurors to release Ash Randolf, and I want them to stop harassing me and my pack. You will also give up your claim to the estate and cede the title to me. Meet me by the lake after the Quidditch match tomorrow to give me your answer, and make sure you come alone. And just to warn you--I've arranged for this information to be made public in the event of my untimely demise. I think that Rita Skeeter would find it fascinating, don't you?

Your loving nephew,
Cyril

***

Amos stared at the piece of paper enclosed with the letter, which showed a hand-drawn diagram of the Diggory family tree from several hundred years ago. There was a name on it that been removed from the official family tree tapestry hanging up in Amos's study.

"Dear?" Helen Diggory asked anxiously. "Is something wrong?"

"Er...nothing, dear," Amos replied, hastily folding up the pages and shoving them into his pocket. "Something's come up at the Ministry, and I need to consult with Williamson."

"Again?" Helen asked disapprovingly. "You've been putting in a lot of overtime lately."

"This won't take long, dear," Amos assured her, kissing her on the cheek.

"Well, try not to be too late for dinner," Helen sighed.

Amos took the Floo to Williamson's flat, and the Auror asked, "What's the matter, Amos? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"We have a problem," Amos said in a tense voice.

"Well, what is it?" Williamson asked, beginning to look worried.

"Ian...we're friends, right?" Amos asked nervously, loathe to reveal information that his family had kept secret for hundreds of years. "If I tell you something in confidence, you'll keep it a secret, won't you? On your honor as a Gryffindor and an Auror?"

"Of course," Williamson said, looking hurt. "Haven't I trusted you? Haven't I put myself at risk to help you? If you told anyone what I've been doing, I would be sent to Azkaban."

And so would Amos, since he was Williamson's co-conspirator, but it did make him feel better. They were both in this together. They were both equally guilty, at least in the eyes of the law. He pulled out the letter and showed it to Williamson.

"What is this?" the Auror asked in a puzzled voice as he looked at the page that showed the family tree. "Obviously it has some significance to you."

"Do you see this name?" Amos asked, pointing at one of the branches of the tree.

"Cynthia Diggory," Williamson said. "Daughter of Cecil, sister of Cyrus. Never married and died young, when she was only twenty years old."

"That name is not on the official family tapestry," Amos said. "Lord Cecil had it removed after she died. All traces of her existence were wiped out to hide the family's shame, except for a couple of pages in her brother's diary."

Williamson's eyes widened; the Auror was quick at putting two and two together. "She was a werewolf, wasn't she? The lycanthropy comes from the Diggory side of the family, after all. Have you known all along?"

"We didn't know at first," Amos replied. "The information was so well-concealed that later generations knew nothing about it. But Cynric went digging through the old family histories, and he finally found a reference to Cynthia in Lord Cyrus's personal diary, which had been stored away from the rest of the histories in a trunk in the attic. There is another page after this one, that details Cynthia's story. Her family kept her locked up in the attic to hide her away from the rest of the world."

"To protect the family's reputation," Williamson said.

"Yes, but also for her own protection," Amos said. "Back in those days, werewolves were automatically put to death, even if they had never attacked anyone. She eventually went mad from the isolation and the pain of the transformations, and she committed suicide on her twentieth birthday. She jumped out of the attic window, broke her neck, and died instantly. But Cyrus mourned his sister, and he couldn't bear for her to be completely forgotten. So he secretly recorded her name and her pitiful tale in his diary, but it was forgotten, at least until Cynric went digging up the past. Damn him, why couldn't he have left well enough alone?"

"He blackmailed your parents," Williamson said. "This is why they didn't disown him."

Amos nodded. "And now his son is trying to blackmail me!"

"Like father, like son," Williamson said, then smiled slyly. "But still, this could work to our advantage, Amos. You have a chance to rid yourself of your nephew once and for all."

"What do you mean?" Amos asked.

"You will go meet him by the lake as he requested," Williamson said. "But I will have hidden myself there beforehand. And I can testify later as to what happened: Cyril lured you out to the lake, saying he wanted to discuss a settlement of the lawsuit. But it was a trap; knowing that he would likely lose the trial, he attacked you and tried to kill you with Dark Magic. But fortunately, you did not trust Cyril, and asked me to secretly observe the meeting. I battled with Cyril, and he perished in the fight, but fortunately, I was able to save your life." The Auror grinned. "At least, that will be the official version of events."

Amos hesitated, faced with a life-altering decision. Despite what Cyril thought, Amos had not murdered Cynric. He might have lied, he might have faked Cyril's death and given him over to the Gravenors to be hidden away, but he had never killed anyone before. And if he did this, he would be crossing over a line, unseen but still inexorably drawn, from which there could be no turning back. He would have blood on his hands--the blood of his brother's son.

But if he did not, then he would have to either turn over the estate to Cyril or let the family's shame be made public. And then he would have broken his vow to his parents that he would protect the family name, and everything that he and his parents had suffered, all the secrets he had kept for so many years, would be for naught. After struggling with himself for a few minutes, Amos made his decision.

"Very well," Amos said. "I will help you. But what about Cyril's threat, that the information will be made public if he dies?"

"Don't worry," Williamson said reassuringly. "He probably left it with his lawyer. I can break into her office and steal the papers before she has a chance to send them to Skeeter. Maybe I can even get a warrant to raid her office, if I say that she was Cyril's accomplice. We could say that he implicated her--and Snape, too--with his last dying breath."

"Will people really buy that?" Amos asked dubiously. "Weasley--"

"Arthur Weasley's days are numbered," Williamson said confidently. "In fact, this will likely be the straw that breaks the camel's back and gets him removed from office. Trust me, Amos. I'll get those papers back for you."

***

In truth, it didn't really matter to Williamson whether Amos's secret was exposed or not. As far as he was concerned, it was sort of like locking the barn door after the horse was stolen--everyone already knew that Cyril Diggory was a werewolf, and that there was a fifty percent chance that he had inherited it from his father's side of the family. He doubted that it would come as a big surprise to anyone in the wizarding world to have that guess confirmed. What really concerned Williamson was using Cyril Diggory to get to Snape. Since the Snape family had been backing Cyril's claim to the title, they would look guilty by association when the werewolf was caught trying to murder Amos. And perhaps Williamson could plant some false evidence on his body that might further implicate Snape, perhaps a vial of the Werewolf Potion. If Williamson could manage to break into Morrigan De Lacy's office, he could plant some false evidence there, too, as well as steal back Amos's papers, but he would have to be careful; the office was likely to be heavily warded, and it would look very bad if he should be caught breaking into it. He would get the papers back if he could, but he didn't intend to ruin his all his hard work and carefully laid out plans just to soothe Amos's pride.

But Amos seemed to believe his reassurances, which was good because Amos was a crucial part of his plan. If Williamson simply killed the werewolf, it might arouse suspicions, even if he claimed that it was in self-defense. But if Amos testified that Cyril had attacked first, most people would believe him--especially if he had visible wounds as proof of the attack.

Williamson had not yet informed Amos of that part of his plan, and did not intend to until after they confronted Cyril by the lake, since he suspected that Amos would object; the man was definitely not Auror material. Williamson intended to inflict some showy but nonfatal wounds on Amos, and possibly on himself as well, to make their story more believable. It was absolutely imperative that no one suspect that they had simply murdered Cyril. (Although in Williamson's mind, it was nothing more than putting down a Dark Creature, as one might put down a rabid dog.)

Well, Snape and his friends would probably suspect the truth, but no one was likely to believe them. Not with Amos posing as the tragic hero, who had first lost his son to the Death Eaters, and then was nearly killed by his werewolf nephew. Maybe Cyril's death would even be enough to provoke Snape and Lupin into seeking revenge, which would then allow Williamson to arrest them. Which reminded him, he would have to make sure that the Aurors watched Cyril's pack closely. They were likely to go mad with grief and anger, and if they went on a rampage, that would certainly be a good excuse to arrest them, but he didn't want them actually killing anyone, either.

So Williamson sent an anxious Amos back home, reassuring him that everything would be fine, and continued plotting and preparing for his confrontation with Cyril Diggory tomorrow...

***

Stewart Ackerley had been watching Master Diggory and reporting on his actions to Williamson as the Auror had requested. He was a little confused, because he hadn't thought that the werewolf leader was associated with the Death Eaters, but if Williamson said he was, then it must be so. Williamson had pointed out that Diggory was friendly with Snape...except that Stewart got the impression that it was more that he was friendly with Lupin, and tolerated Snape because he was Lupin's lover. Or maybe he had befriended Lupin as an excuse to associate with Snape. Because although Stewart disliked Lupin--or more accurately, disliked his choice of lovers--he could not by any stretch of the imagination picture Lupin as a Death Eater. He did, however, think that Lupin was gullible and softhearted, and blind to what Snape and the Slytherins really were.

At least Snape was currently under house arrest, and Williamson promised that soon he would be locked up for good. That made Stewart gloat, but at the same time he felt a little uneasy. He had looked at the books he had stolen from the library before sending them to the Auror, and from the description of the incriminating evidence found in the Shrieking Shack that was reported in the Daily Prophet, Stewart was able to figure out that Williamson had used the books to frame Snape. That wasn't quite what Stewart had had in mind; he had wanted to expose Snape's real crimes, not invent new ones. Framing someone didn't seem like the sort of thing an Auror should be doing...

Except that Stewart himself had framed Theodore Snape for the Porvora attack on Aric Dietrich shortly before Christmas vacation. He had not felt any remorse at the time, but now he squirmed in his seat as a faint stirring of guilt pricked at his conscience. Although he still hated Theodore, there had been nothing noble behind that attack, which had been more about getting petty revenge on Dietrich than trying to expose Theodore as a Death Eater.

But the Snapes, both Theodore and the Professor, deserved it, didn't they? Did it really matter that Snape was being punished for a crime he didn't commit when he had probably committed plenty of other crimes that he had never been punished for? The Death Eaters and the Slytherins didn't play by the rules, after all, as Isabelle had once pointed out. So why shouldn't the Aurors and the R.A. resort to unorthodox methods in order to expose them?

But then...if Snape had not made the Werewolf Potion, then who was behind the recent werewolf attacks? Had Master Diggory or his pack committed them, or had Williamson taken advantage of the actions of a couple of rogue werewolves? But no, a normal werewolf could not be responsible for the attacks, since the the victims had not been turned. Could Williamson have staged those attacks in addition to planting the false evidence in the Shrieking Shack? But Williamson was an Auror; surely he would not hurt innocent people, not even to arrest Snape...would he?

While Stewart was wrestling with his conscience, an owl arrived with a letter from Williamson. The Auror wouldn't go into details but he promised that "something big" was going to happen tomorrow. He said that he suspected Master Diggory was going to "make a move" after the game, and he didn't want anyone else interfering and possibly ruining his chance to arrest the werewolf. He told Stewart to make sure that nobody--particularly Lupin, who had been sticking close to Diggory since he had been accused of being involved in the werewolf attacks--followed Diggory after the game, and that he should provide a distraction if necessary. He said he believed that this would be the first step in taking down Snape and the other Death Eaters, and that soon he would have them all in custody. He also praised Stewart's efforts on his behalf and said that he had the makings of a fine Auror, and promised to recommend him for a position when he graduated from Hogwarts.

His excitement at receiving the letter caused Stewart to forget about his doubts, at least for the moment. Williamson was an experienced Auror; of course he knew much better than Stewart what must be done. Things probably just seemed confusing because Stewart wasn't seeing the whole picture; there was a lot of information that Williamson had to keep secret so as not to give away his plans to the Death Eaters, or perhaps because he was afraid of endangering Stewart, who was only a student and not a full-fledged Auror, after all. Not that Stewart was afraid of risking himself to expose and capture the Death Eaters, but as an Auror, Williamson would never put an underage student in danger. Stewart felt a little better as he reminded himself that Williamson had been a close friend of his father; of course he could trust him! Everything would probably make perfect sense once the Death Eaters were all safely locked up and Williamson was able to explain the whole story.

The letter had arrived the night before the Quidditch match, and Stewart did not have a chance to talk to Isabelle about it that evening, but he pulled her aside after breakfast the next morning. They went to the R.A. meeting room to talk in private, and Stewart showed her the letter; he had not told any of the other R.A. members about it since his role in helping Williamson was supposed to be a secret.

"Isn't this great?" Stewart said excitedly. "Soon all the Death Eaters will be locked up and the wizarding world will be safe again!"

To his surprise, Isabelle frowned, looking worried and unhappy. "But surely it can't be that easy," she said. "Surely there are some Death Eaters deep undercover who appear respectable on the surface. It could take a lifetime to root them all out."

It wasn't like Isabelle to be so pessimistic, and Stewart gave her a puzzled look. "Williamson sounded very confident," he said. "Snape is probably the ringleader; he's the highest-ranking Death Eater left now that Lucius Malfoy is dead. Once they arrest him, they can question him with Truth Potion and get him to give up the names of his fellow Death Eaters."

"I'm just saying that we should not become complacent," Isabelle said. "We must always keep our guard up. Isn't it true that some of the Death Eaters kept their identities secret even from each other?"

"That's true," Stewart reluctantly agreed. "According to my father, it seemed like even the other Death Eaters hadn't known that Peter Pettigrew was one of them, not until he was forced to drop his disguise as Weasley's pet rat."

"I just wish that we could do something dramatic at this match," Isabelle said wistfully. "Something like the hexed ribbons, or another Morsmordre spell."

"We'd better not," Stewart cautioned. "It might mess up Williamson's plans."

"I know, but I just--"

Suddenly the door swung open and an outraged Susan Bones burst into the room. "So the two of you are behind those hexes--and those threatening notes to Harry, too, right?" she said accusingly. "I had a bad feeling about it, but I didn't want to believe that my friends could do such a thing!"

"Now, calm down, Susan," Stewart said, trying to sound soothing. "We can explain--"

"Explain what?" Susan shouted. "That two of my best friends betrayed me? Especially you, Isabelle--Hufflepuffs are supposed to be loyal to each other!"

"I am being loyal," Isabelle said quietly. "I was working to expose the Death Eaters who murdered your relatives as well as mine, and I didn't tell you about it because I didn't want you to get in trouble if we got caught. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" Susan asked incredulously. "I think you were trying to protect yourself, because you knew I'd turn you in if I had known what you were doing! Dylan and Theodore were nearly killed by your stupid hexes!"

"So what?" Stewart retorted. "They're Death Eaters! How many people did their fathers kill?"

"We don't know that they're Death Eaters!" Susan shouted. "We were only supposed to be trying to find out the truth about the Slytherins, not kill them or frame them!"

"Sometimes when your enemy does not play by the rules, you have to bend the rules a little as well, in order to win," Isabelle said calmly.

Susan stared at her two friends with a look of disgust on her face. "Sneaking around, lying, manipulating people--isn't that how the Slytherins are supposed to act? If you have to become like your enemy in order to win, then maybe winning isn't worth it! And now I'm not so convinced that the Slytherins are our enemies, after all. I think maybe we were wrong about them--I was certainly wrong about you!" Then she turned and ran out of the room.

"Shouldn't we follow her?" Stewart asked anxiously. "What if she tells someone? It'll ruin everything!"

"Oh, don't worry," Isabelle said with a cool smile. "She won't be able to say anything. Don't you remember the contract that all of us signed, that said we would not talk about the R.A. with outsiders?"

"You put a curse on the contract?" Stewart asked, still feeling worried. "Like the one the D.A. used?"

"No, not like the one the D.A. used," Isabelle replied smugly. "I used something much more powerful and much more effective than a jinx spelling out 'sneak' on someone's forehead. Come on, we'd better get going or we'll be late to the match."

Stewart obediently followed her, but he nervously wondered exactly what kind of curse Isabelle had used in the contract. He had come very close to telling Williamson about the R.A., but he had not, because it wouldn't be right, at least not without getting the other members' permission first. And as an Auror, Williamson would have technically been obligated to turn them in, no matter how sympathetic he was to their plans. Stewart didn't really believe that the Auror would have turned them in, but he hadn't wanted to put Williamson in the position of having to break the rules. Not that the Auror seemed overly concerned about such things. But now Stewart was very glad that he had not broken the contract.

"Er...the curse...it won't hurt Susan, will it?" he asked.

"No permanent damage," Isabelle said reassuringly, except that Stewart did not find it all that reassuring. "Although she may be missing a few memories afterwards."

Then a group of students walked by, and Stewart was unable to question her further. They headed to the Pitch with the other students, while Stewart nervously hoped that Isabelle was right about Susan not being able to reveal their secrets.

"Hey, have you seen Susan?" Dean Thomas asked. He looked puzzled rather than suspicious, so apparently Susan had not confided in him about her concerns. But then, Susan was a typical loyal Hufflepuff, and she wouldn't want to speak out against a housemate without proof, not even to her boyfriend. She had probably intended to confront Isabelle first before speaking to anyone else, and that had been her mistake--fortunately for Isabelle and Stewart.

"We saw her a little while ago, but then she hurried off," Isabelle said innocently.

"Maybe she's already on her way to the Pitch?" Stewart suggested.

"But we were going to walk down together," Dean said, looking a little hurt.

"It's been a bit hectic with all the excitement surrounding the match," Isabelle said. "Perhaps she missed you in the crowd and decided to go on ahead."

"Maybe," Dean said. "I'll go take a look outside; maybe she's waiting for me in the courtyard. If you see Susan, tell her I was looking for her, okay?"

"Okay," Isabelle said with a sweet smile.

Part 80