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FIC: Three's a Crowd (or, Summer Vacation II), Part 2 of 2
Title: Three's a Crowd (or, Summer Vacation II), Part 2 of 2
Rating: R
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~6,400
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Warning: AU
Author's note: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Sequel to: Always (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6), Summer Vacation (Part 1, Part 2), For Old Time's Sake (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5)
Summary: Snape, Lupin, and Sirius reflect on the past and reminisce about their old teacher, Professor Blackmore.
Part 1
***
Breakfast the next morning was a subdued affair. Both Snape and Sirius were very quiet and too embarrassed to look each other in the eye. It was a little awkward, but Lupin preferred the silence to their usual sniping and arguing. But finally, he broke the silence to tell Snape that Dumbledore had contacted them while he was gone, with the news that the Order of the Phoenix was being re-formed.
"Well, that makes sense," Snape said, sounding unsurprised.
"You know about the Order?" asked Sirius, who did sound surprised, at Snape's comment, if not Lupin's news.
"Of course I know about the Order, you imbecile," Snape replied in the haughty tone he usually used with Black. "Who do you think fed them all their secret information?"
"But you were never a member--"
"I was working undercover," Snape replied in that same superior tone of voice. "Let me see if I can explain it in simpler terms for you, Black: that means no one but Dumbledore and Blackmore knew what I was doing. Because otherwise, word might have gotten back to the Dark Lord, and he would have killed me--which I know would have hardly broken your heart--but then there would have been no one left to spy for your precious Order."
"Why you snotty little--"
"Sirius! Severus! Knock it off!" Lupin shouted impatiently. "We're all on the same side, remember? And this time around, we are all members of the Order, Severus included!" The two of them subsided, but glared at each other. Lupin sighed, dreading the next bit of news he had to break to Severus. "We have recruited several members, but the Order needs to remain secret, particularly with the stance the Ministry has taken against Dumbledore. A secret headquarters was needed, one that cannot be found or entered except by members of the Order, and Sirius has graciously offered the use of his family house--"
"WHAT?!" bellowed Snape.
Sirius smirked and said, "Better be nice to me Snape, if you want me to let you into the house--"
Lupin shot Sirius a glare and said pointedly, "ALL members of the Order will be able to come and go at will, but no one else will be able to enter, or even find the house without being given permission by the Headmaster. The Black house is ideal, because it's Unplottable--"
"My late, unlamented dad was rather paranoid," Sirius murmured.
"--And Albus has added his protections to it. He will be Secret-Keeper for the Order; no one will be able to find it unless he personally tells them where it is."
"Of course," Sirius interjected in a casual tone, "the house is in a state of disrepair. Needs a bit of cleaning up. We'll be heading over tomorrow to start getting it ready--"
"'We'?" Snape asked softly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Me and Moony," Sirius said, still in that oh-so-casual tone. "We were just waiting for you to get back before we started packing. Remus didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, of course--"
"WHAT?!"
"Severus--" Lupin began.
"All the members will be free to come and go, as Moony said," Sirius interrupted, a smug smile on his face. "Most of them have homes and jobs they need to attend to. But Remy and I will be living there--"
"WHAT?!" Snape's furious gaze swiveled back and forth between Sirius and Lupin.
"It's only practical,"Sirius said, enjoying himself thoroughly. "Someone needs to run the headquarters and--" "It's your house," snarled Snape. "Shouldn't that be your job, not Lupin's?"
"Don't be such a selfish git!" Sirius retorted. "With you running off doing your secret spy thing, Remus will be alone when you're not here. Things will start getting dangerous once we start moving against old Voldie, and he'll be safer at my house than alone in this cottage out in the middle of nowhere."
Snape opened his mouth to protest, then his eyes went wide and his face went pale as Black's words sunk in. The thought of Lupin being here alone, unprotected...
Lupin seemed to be reading his thoughts. "I am hardly defenseless," he said dryly to both his friend and his lover. "My specialty is Defense Against the Dark Arts, after all. But Sirius is right that it will be safer there, and it will be easier to operate out of a central base, not to mention communicate with the other members of the Order."
Snape closed his mouth and scowled. He didn't like it, but he couldn't argue with that. Black smirked again and Snape felt a strong urge to punch him in the face.
"Of course," Lupin added in a placating tone, "that doesn't mean that we can't sneak off alone somewhere together when we have some spare time. And of course, you can stay at headquarters, too."
Sirius was now the one scowling, but he did not--quite--contradict Lupin. "Of course you don't want to be running back and forth too much, Sevie--"
"Sirius!" snapped Lupin.
"Don't call me 'Sevie'!" snarled Snape.
"--in case your Death Eater friends are keeping tabs on you. Even if they can't enter the house, you don't want them to know you're associating with us. Wouldn't want to blow your cover, after all."
"I know how to avoid being followed, Black," Snape growled.
"Oh, and the Weasley family will be moving in later, at least for the summer, to help me get the place in order. You know, Molly and Arthur and the kids..." Sirius felt quite smug as he watched the expression on Snape's face keep changing, as if he could not decide whether to be angry or horrified. He knew Snape would not want to make kissy-face with Lupin in front of witnesses, particularly ones who were also his students.
Lupin was glaring at Sirius. "Molly and Arthur won't care about our personal relationship, Severus--"
"But it's nobody's business but ours!" protested Snape. "And the brats will gossip--"
"We can be discreet, Severus," Lupin said, in the tone of someone whose patience was being sorely tested. "The children don't have to know; no one but the three of us has to know, if you insist."
"I do insist!" said Snape, a little edge of hysteria creeping into his voice.
"Fine," sighed Lupin. "We'll begin moving in tomorrow. You can help us if you're not busy."
Snape sulked, Sirius smirked, and Lupin sighed again and began finishing his now-cold breakfast. Then something Snape had said belatedly registered in Sirius's mind. "Wait a minute--Blackmore knew you were a spy?" he asked.
"Yes," said Snape, still sulking. "Dumbledore didn't want too many people to know, but he said Blackmore could be trusted to keep her own counsel, and he seemed to think that if she believed I really were a Death Eater it would cause her emotional distress." He snorted at the thought of cold, terrifying Professor Blackmore showing such sentiment. "More likely he was afraid she'd kill me if she didn't know the truth."
Another silence fell over the breakfast table as the thoughts of all three men turned back towards their old professor...
***
Lupin's mind drifted back to his fifth year, a couple of weeks after the Shrieking Shack incident...
He tried to approach Severus as Incantations class ended, in another futile attempt to apologize to him. But Severus just sneered and pushed him aside as he headed for the door. Lupin stumbled and fell against a desk, dropping his books onto the floor.
"Mr. Snape!" Blackmore called out in her usual imperious tone.
"It's my fault, Professor," Lupin said hastily. "I wasn't watching where I was going, and I bumped into Severus."
Blackmore's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, and Snape quickly hurried out of the classroom before she could change her mind, but he shot Lupin a startled and resentful look. Lupin sighed, fighting back tears, as he bent down to pick up his books. Sirius left without looking back; he was still mad at Lupin for chasing after Snape. James and Peter started to help him, but Blackmore sent them on their way with an impatient gesture of her hand. When the room was empty except for the two of them, she knelt down beside him and helped him gather up his things, then said gently, "Don't give up on him, Mr. Lupin. Give things some time to heal."
Lupin looked up at her startled. He had never heard her use that kindly tone of voice before, and her green eyes were filled with sympathy and sadness. He wondered what she knew, if Dumbledore had told her what happened in the Shrieking Shack that night. He had thought it was supposed to be a secret. "Y-yes, Professor," Lupin stammered. She said nothing more, and Lupin hurried on to his next class.
{But I did give up,} the adult Lupin thought guiltily. Time did not seem to heal Snape's wounds, and after several weeks, Lupin eventually gave up trying to talk to him. He went through the rest of the school year, and the next two that followed, feeling hollow and numb inside. He made up--sort of--with Sirius, and took some comfort in his friendship with the other three Marauders, but he was never again the same mischievous, playful boy he had been before. He was no longer interested in their old adventures, exploring the school and running through the forest. James seemed to mature after that experience as well, becoming less arrogant and more thoughtful, but Snape never forgave him. And truthfully, despite the fact that he had saved Snape, James never stopped hating him either. In fact, he probably hated him more, for hurting Lupin's feelings. Severus, of course, had gone on to join Malfoy's in-crowd, and had eventually become a Death Eater.
{If I hadn't given up so easily,} Lupin wondered, {could I have stopped him? Could I have saved him?} Severus had eventually found his way back to the light, but Lupin might have been able to spare him years of torment and the permanent scars Voldemort had left on his soul...
***
Snape, too, recalled Blackmore talking to him shortly after the Shrieking Shack incident...
Snape and his Slytherin classmates burst out laughing as a black geyser shot up out of Sirius Black's ink bottle and into his face. Black spluttered and reached for his wand. "I know that was you, Snape!"
"Prove it, Black!"
"Why you--"
"Enough!" snapped Blackmore. "Black, go get cleaned up."
"But--"
"Now!"
There was no arguing with that tone of voice; Black gave Snape one last glare as he picked up his books and left the room.
"Class dismissed. Read chapter seven of your text, and be prepared to be tested on it tomorrow." The class groaned as they filed out of the room. "Mr. Snape, I'll see you in my office!"
"Uh oh," muttered Wilkes, giving Snape a look of sympathy.
The other Slytherins just looked relieved that Blackmore had singled out only Snape. "Better you than us, mate!" said Rosier, clapping Snape on the shoulder.
Snape just gave Rosier a cold stare. "Don't call me 'mate,' and get your hand off my shoulder or I'll remove it for you." From the look on his face, by "remove," he meant "sever at the wrist." Rosier hastily removed his hand as Snape followed their teacher out of the room.
"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," muttered Lestrange.
Snape sat in front of Blackmore's desk, bracing himself for whatever punishment she was about to dole out. But she didn't yell at him or assign him detention; she didn't even look angry. But she gave him a long, penetrating stare, as if she were trying to see right into his soul, which made him extremely uncomfortable. He sat rigidly still, forcing himself not to squirm. Finally, she said, in an almost mild tone, "You should choose your friends with more care, Mr. Snape."
He blinked. That was not what he had been expecting. "I have, Professor," he said coolly. "My friends come from all the oldest, most prominent wizarding families--"
But the Professor was shaking her head. "That means nothing, Mr. Snape." She picked up a shiny gold rock that had been serving as a paperweight, holding down a stack of essays on her desk. "Do you know what this is, Mr. Snape?"
He peered at it closely. "Pyrite?"
"Very good, Mr. Snape. Pyrite, otherwise known as Fool's Gold. Shiny and pretty on the surface, but worthless dross inside."
"I'm sure the Malfoys and the Rosiers would be fascinated to learn that you think of their sons as 'worthless dross'." {Oh my God, did I just talk back to Blackmore?!}
Bane gave him a baleful look from his perch behind the desk, but Blackmore went on as if she hadn't heard him. "I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Snape."
"Excuse me?" Snape played dumb, but he had a sinking feeling about where this conversation was heading...
"You and Mr. Lupin worked so well together--"
"We completed our project; now it's over," said Snape curtly. "There's no reason for us to continue to associate with each other."
Blackmore gave him a look of impatience and disappointment, as if her star student had suddenly become as dim as Goyle or Crabbe. It made him feel both ashamed and resentful. "A true friend is a rare treasure that should not be discarded like a piece of dross," she said coldly. "Or--discarded in exchange for a piece of dross."
Snape's face turned red; she had no right to talk to him like this, Professor or no! "Lupin is not my friend! And it's none of your business!"
"You seemed quite friendly over the Christmas holidays."
"Well, you are mistaken!"
"I never thought you were a coward, Severus," she said quietly.
"Excuse me?!"
"To run at the first sign of trouble," she continued in that quiet voice.
"I'm not running!"
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Aren't you?" As Snape sat there, flustered, torn between shame and anger, Blackmore continued in a more gentle voice, "Nothing worth having is easy, Severus. In any relationship, there will be problems, misunderstandings, arguments, that must be worked out."
"Lupin and I don't HAVE a relationship!"
"You will never have a true friend, Mr. Snape, if you flee every time the other person lets you down--"
"I have plenty of friends!"
"You have allies," Blackmore corrected. "Allies who will be your 'friends' as long as you have something they want, and who will discard you when you are no longer useful."
"Fine. I have allies. They are using me, but I am using them as well. You see," he said sarcastically, "it's a mutually beneficial relationship." He added defiantly, "I don't need friends!"
"We all need friends, Mr. Snape," the Professor said. She looked sad, which frightened Snape a little; he much preferred the cold, terrifying Professor to this compassionate woman. "Mr. Lupin did not betray you," she added quietly. "And if you would be honest with yourself, you would realize that is the truth."
Only his deeply-ingrained fear of her kept Snape from running out of the room right then and there. "I'll be late for my next class, Professor," he said, fighting to keep his voice emotionless. "May I be dismissed?"
She sighed wearily. "Yes, you may go." He fled the room, but took one glance back at the door, and saw her staring at the paperweight on her desk. She did not look up at him, but said in a voice so soft that he could barely hear it, "I only hope you realize what you have thrown away before it is too late."
Wilkes was waiting for him down the hall, which comforted Snape a little. "Hey," said Wilkes with relief. "You made it out in one piece! Did she give you detention?"
"No, she never even mentioned the ink bottle incident."
"Then what did she want?"
"A little heart-to-heart chat," Snape said scornfully. "If I didn't know better, I would think she was actually Dumbledore in disguise!"
Wilkes gave him a curious look. "What did she say?"
"Oh, some nonsense about choosing my friends more carefully."
Wilkes laughed. "She gave me the same lecture the other day, too! Something about how I shouldn't be a sheep. Baa baa!" He continued his sheep imitation as they hurried to their next class, ignoring the other students who looked at him in askance. Snape laughed and tried to put Blackmore's lecture out of his mind.
{But she was right,} Snape thought grimly. {We behaved like sheep, and it cost Wilkes his life. And I traded someone who loved me for a piece of worthless dross...}
***
Sirius remembered when he and Blackmore had both been members of the Order; he had been an Auror-in-training under her supervision. She had made it clear that she thought he was too impulsive and reckless to be an Auror, but their ranks had grown thin, thanks to the Death Eaters, and the Ministry was desperate. Accepting the inevitable, she took him under her wing, to "minimize the damage," she claimed. Sirius was a little resentful of her attitude, but he respected her--in fact, was still a little afraid of her, despite the fact that he was now an adult--and was determined to win her respect in return.
One day, she and Sirius, along with Alastor Moody and another trainee named Miles Dempsey, were sent to apprehend two Death Eaters--former classmates of Sirius's named Evan Rosier and Lyall Wilkes. They caught the two in the act of ransacking the house of a Muggle-born wizard, who managed to escape in the confusion as a fierce battle ensued. Spells were hurled back and forth, reducing the house to ruins, but finally it became clear that the two Death Eaters were losing: despite the power Voldemort had given them, they were outnumbered, and Blackmore and Moody alone were more powerful than they.
"It's over!" Moody shouted. "Come along quietly and we'll spare your lives!"
"What for?" snarled Rosier. "So we can rot in Azkaban? No thanks, I'd rather die!" A red beam of light shot out from his wand; Moody jumped out of the way just in time, and the wall behind him exploded into splinters.
"ARIANE IS PREGNANT, YOU IDIOT!" shouted Blackmore, and Rosier froze, a stunned look on his face. Blackmore lifted her hand, motioning for her comrades to hold their fire.
"Y-you're lying!" he stammered. "She never said--and how would you know, anyway?!"
"She probably didn't want to worry you," Blackmore said. "She's been throwing up a lot recently, hasn't she?" By the look on Rosier's face, she must have been right. "You thought it was a touch of the flu, but those healing potions haven't helped her...because no one's found a cure for morning sickness yet."
"You're gonna be a DAD?" exclaimed Wilkes excitedly, apparently forgetting for a moment that they were in the middle of a heated battle.
"Don't throw away your life, Evan," Blackmore said in a soft, yet urgent voice. "Ariane needs you, the baby needs you--"
"I can't...I can't betray my Lord," said Rosier, but he looked shaken. "And...what good will I do them in prison? I'd rather die, than have the Dementors steal my soul!"
"Voldemort has already stolen your soul," growled Moody, but Blackmore shushed him.
"Evan, Lyall," she said in that same soft voice, "if you show repentance, the courts will show mercy." They looked dubious. "I will help you, I swear, I will speak on your behalf! I remember the boys you were in school...I do not believe those boys were evil. Misguided, perhaps, but not evil. I remember the boy who had the gall to ask me for a dance at the Yule Ball, Evan. And I remember, Lyall, your loyalty to your friends, and how you would serve detention alone, scrubbing bedpans in the infirmary, rather than give up Evan's name when you were caught pulling a prank. All my wealth, power, and influence I will use on your behalf, if you will truly renounce your allegiance to Voldemort!"
Blackmore's wealth and influence were considerable, and Sirius and Miles stared at her in shock, and Moody in disgust; why would she go so far out on a limb for two Death Eaters, who had tortured and probably killed countless Muggles and Muggle-born?
Wilkes looked frightened and uncertain; he turned to Rosier for support. Rosier spoke defiantly, but he looked a little unsure of himself as well. "You want me to betray my Master?"
"He has already betrayed you, Evan; he cares nothing for you, he is only using you--"
"That's not true!" protested Wilkes. "He's trying to save the wizard race--"
Blackmore ignored him, focusing on Rosier. "Evan, please, surrender for the baby's sake! Don't let your child grow up without a father! Don't bequeath your son a legacy of blood and hatred!"
"A son?" he whispered. "It's a boy?" Blackmore nodded. Sirius had no idea how she knew this, but Rosier seemed to believe her, and for a moment it seemed that she had persuaded him. Then his face hardened, and he said, "My son will not have a coward or a traitor for a father!" He lifted his wand, but pointed it in Moody's direction, not Blackmore's. "Avada--"
"Fulmen!" shouted Moody, and a lightning bolt leaped out of his wand, heading straight towards the two Death Eaters. They dove out of the way; Rosier was unable to complete his spell, and Wilkes was wounded, crying out in pain as the bolt grazed him. He fell to the ground, dropping his wand and clutching at his right arm--the sleeve of his robe had burned away, leaving seared flesh beneath it.
Blackmore had begun muttering an incantation, and before the two could recover from the attack, shadowy black tentacles exploded up through the floor, reaching up to bind the Death Eaters. Rosier struggled for a few minutes, then suddenly lowered his wand and said, "All right, I give up!"
"You should have accepted Branwen's offer of mercy," sneered Dempsey, as he approached Rosier. He was clearly thrilled that they would be bringing in two captives; Sirius knew that he was eager to advance himself and become a full Auror.
"NO!" screamed Blackmore. "It's a trick!" Sirius was startled, but silently cursed himself; he should have realized Rosier would never give up so easily. He raised his wand and started forward, but Blackmore grabbed him--with a strength that was surprising for a slim woman considerably shorter and lighter than he was--and dragged him behind her. She raised her wand, shouted a charm, and a shield of red light appeared in front of them, just as Dempsey reached Rosier.
Rosier's dark eyes had a wild, malicious gleam to them. He smiled and whispered, "Mors Incurso," and snapped his wand in two. Death Strike. It was a very ancient spell, almost never used, because it cost the caster his life. But when death was inevitable, it could be used to take an enemy down with you...
A huge explosion rocked what remained of the house. Despite the shield, Blackmore and Sirius were knocked to the ground, but were otherwise unharmed. The others were not so lucky. Dempsey was dead, reduced to a charred corpse. Moody, who had been trying to reach Dempsey, had not had time to fully shield himself, and his face and chest were a bloody, mangled mess. There seemed to be a large chunk missing from his nose. Of Rosier, there was nothing left but ashes. Wilkes lay wounded, charred, and bleeding on the floor, but was still alive. He raised his wand in a trembling hand.
"No, Lyall," Blackmore whispered.
"I can't betray Evan," he whispered back. "I'm sorry." But although Blackmore was closer to him, Wilkes, like Rosier, pointed his wand at Moody. "Avada--"
"Expelliarmus!" Blackmore and Sirius shouted simultaneously, and Moody, it seemed, was still well enough to battle, because a ray of green light sprang from his wand and hit Wilkes in the chest, knocking him backwards. Wilkes's wand flew out of his hands, and he was hurled back several feet, slamming into the wall with a loud crash.
Blackmore ran towards him; he was alive, just barely. She dropped her wand and sank to the floor beside him, and Sirius was horrified, although Wilkes was clearly no longer a threat. He blinked and looked up at her, looking hurt, frightened, and confused, like a child who has just experienced pain for the first time. She gently eased his head onto her lap and stroked his hair. "Pro...professor," he gasped, then coughed, drops of blood flying from his mouth.
"Shhh, Lyall, don't speak," she said, still stroking his hair.
"I...I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes still filled with fear and confusion. "Fo...forgive me..."
"I forgive you, child," Blackmore said, in a soft and tender voice Sirius had never heard her use before. She bent down and gently kissed his forehead. Lyall's eyes closed, and he sighed; whether Blackmore had used some kind of healing charm, or whether he simply found comfort in that gesture of affection, it seemed to ease his pain. Then he exhaled one last, rattling breath and died, and Blackmore began to weep. Sirius was stunned to see and hear Professor Blackmore, whom all the students had feared, weeping like a heartbroken girl. {No,} Sirius decided on second thought. {Weeping like a mother who has lost her child.} Although he was not a religious man, a phrase from the Bible suddenly came to mind, one Dumbledore had used in a lecture, when discussing prejudice and genocide in both Muggle and wizard history: "A voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping; it was Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they were no more."
Moody staggered over. "Don't waste your tears on this scum, Branwen," he said, gruffly but not unkindly. "He's not worth it."
"They were only boys," Blackmore wept.
"They were grown men, the same age as me," Sirius protested. "If I'm old enough to know better, so were they."
"They were all my children," Blackmore said, still bent over Lyall's body, her tears falling down onto his face. "I should have tried harder to save them. I should have tried harder to reach them. No one but me really cared for them, my Slytherin children; no one else tried to save them. I was all they had; I should have tried harder..."
Sirius hovered over her helplessly. He reached out with one hand, whether to give her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder or to pull her away from Lyall's corpse, he wasn't sure. But Moody stopped him, and led him away to tend to Dempsey's body. "Leave her be, lad," Moody said in that gruff tone. "It's a womanly thing, I suppose, though I never figured Branwen to be the sentimental type, especially over scum like these two."
Later, after taking Moody to St. Mungo's for healing, and delivering Wilkes's and Dempsey's bodies to the Ministry and filing their reports, Blackmore and Sirius had a quiet drink together at The Leaky Cauldron.
"I never knew you were that close to Rosier and Wilkes, Professor," Sirius said.
She gave him a wan smile. "I told you, Sirius, since we are colleagues now, you might as well go ahead and call me Branwen. I'm no longer a Professor, anyway." Sirius had not forgotten, but he still found it difficult to call her by her first name. "But to answer your question, I cared for all my students--" Her smile grew a little wider at the shocked look on Sirius's face. "Well, I didn't want you all to think I was soft, so of course I was strict with you!" Then her smile faded. "But perhaps I should have let you students see how much I cared. Perhaps that would have made a difference. I thought I was doing the right thing, Sirius, pushing all of you so hard, because I knew someday it might make the difference between life and death. And I was careful not to play favorites, because so many of the other teachers did. But secretly, in my heart, I had a soft spot for the Slytherins."
"Why?" Sirius asked, startled. "You were a Ravenclaw, weren't you?"
"My father, and at least half of my ancestors, including the founder of my clan, Lady Regan Blackmore, were all Slytherins!" Blackmore said sharply.
"But Slytherins are--" Sirius began automatically, then quickly thought better of it.
"Evil, you meant to say?" Blackmore said, an edge to her voice. "That is the common belief, after all. It is true that Slytherins tend by definition to be ambitious, and many of them have...flexible...morals, but not all of them are evil. Many of your own family members are Slytherins, are they not?"
"Why do you think I think all Slytherins are evil?" Sirius asked dryly.
Blackmore shook her head and gave him a sad smile. "My father, it is true, was interested in the Dark Arts, but he was a kind and loving man. I remember him singing me to sleep at night when I was a little girl. Actually, he had remarkably little ambition for a Slytherin; he was more of a scholar, and simply wished to be left alone to pursue his books and his research. He loved to collect old tales and ballads, and would sing and play guitar for me and my mother beside the fireplace in the evenings, a glass of fine wine on the table by his side. I had my own glass of apple cider, but he would let me taste a sip from his glass when my mother wasn't looking." Her green eyes had a wistful, faraway look in them, and Bane cawed softly from his perch on her shoulder, and rubbed his face against her cheek. She patted him absent-mindedly and continued, "Because I had friends and relatives among the Slytherins, I do not see them as one collective House; I see them as individuals, with both good and bad among them."
Sirius said hesitantly, "Earlier today, you said you were the only one who cared about the Slytherins, the only one who tried to save them. But what about Dumbledore, and the Head of Slytherin House?"
Blackmore sighed. "Well, perhaps I exaggerated a little, but not by much. I don't think that the Head of Slytherin, Professor De Lacy, is a Dark Wizard, but he fears Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and is too cowed to take a stance against them. Albus does care about them, it is true, and he has tried to reach out to some of them, but he isn't able to spend one-on-one time with all of them. And I have long complained to him that he has underestimated the effect of House rivalry on the school morale. The Slytherins in particular are despised by the other Houses, and they have developed an 'us against the world' mentality, which is only reinforced by Salazar Slytherin's teachings. The Slytherins are more at risk than any other House, more susceptible to leaders such as Voldemort, who will play on their ambitions and grudges, and twist their souls till they become as dark and foul as his. The Slytherin children needed extra care and compassion; I tried to give it to them, but I fear I have failed miserably." Her face filled with the same guilt and sorrow she had shown on the battlefield earlier that day. "Lyall was not a bad boy, just very gullible and easily misled. He had the very bad habit of doing whatever Evan told him to, without question. Other boys would have resented being in Evan's shadow; he was always more popular with the girls, more outstanding on the Quidditch field, but Lyall never seemed to mind. He worshipped Evan. And Evan, while he was one of those with 'flexible morals,' was not evil, at least not at first. Mischievous and spoiled and quite full of himself, but not evil. I hoped for awhile, that Ariane's love would save him, but instead it proved to be his downfall."
"You can't blame yourself, Prof--Branwen," Sirius protested. "They made their own choices. Maybe your father was a good guy, maybe other Slytherins are okay--" Sirius didn't really believe it, but he conceded the point for the sake of argument. "--But that lot were just plain bad. Just like their pals Malfoy and Snape--"
Instead of being comforted, Blackmore looked angry. "You bear some responsibility for the path Mr. Snape has taken in life, Mr. Black."
"What?! What did I--"
"Mr. Lupin's friendship might have helped him resist the lure of Malfoy and Voldemort--"
{How the hell does she know about that?!} wondered Sirius. "I don't believe that!" he shouted. "And anyway, it doesn't matter! He's an adult, he's responsible for his own choices, and he chose to serve Voldemort!"
"Yes," Blackmore said coldly, "he must take responsibility for his actions. But so must you, for yours, Sirius. You may not have a loving family, but you have always been popular, and you have three very close friends who are like brothers to you. Severus has always been alone; he had no one but Remus. You have no idea how hard it is to resist temptation when you have to stand alone, and you took from him his sole support." Sirius spluttered in outrage as she continued, "Oh, Albus tried to help him, but his faith in the Headmaster was destroyed when Albus could not give you the punishment you so richly deserved for fear of destroying Mr. Lupin's life. I tried to reach out to him, but it was too late; he had seen the people he cared most for betray him, and he was not about to trust anyone else."
"That's not fair!" snapped Sirius, his face turning red with anger. "Snape was just born bad--"
"No one is 'born bad,' Mr. Black," his former Professor said, just as angrily. "They are MADE bad, by upbringing, environment, and circumstance. The Slytherins have their faults, it is true, but so do the Gryffindors. And the worst fault of the Gryffindors is this: that they tend to see things only in black and white. Mr. Snape is, shall we say, a shade of gray, but you and your friends--save for Lupin--could not see gray, so you saw him only as black. If you do not change, that will be your downfall one day. If you remain intolerant and unyielding, one day you will become tyrants no better than the Dark Lord."
"How--how dare you!" spluttered Sirius.
"I see you are not ready to hear this now," Blackmore said coolly. "But one day you will be, if you become the man I think you can be. Then again, I thought I could save Rosier and Wilkes, too..." She tossed a handful of coins down on the table to pay for their drinks, then left without another word.
Sirius never saw her again after that. A week later, her house was attacked. No sign of her remained save for a copious amount of blood and the bodies of three Death Eaters, and she was pronounced, "missing, presumed dead."
***
"Sirius, are you all right?" Lupin was saying.
Sirius slowly looked up, returning to the present. "I was just thinking about Professor Blackmore..."
"You too?" Lupin and Snape chorused, then looked at each other, startled.
"I was with her and Moody when we took down Rosier and Wilkes," Sirius said. Something flickered in Snape's eyes, then an expressionless mask fell over his face. "You were wrong, you know," Sirius said to Snape. "About her not being sentimental. She tried to get Rosier and Wilkes to surrender. When they didn't, and Moody had to kill them, she wept."
"She did WHAT?!" exclaimed Snape.
"I'm not lying," insisted Sirius. "She really did cry. Like a mother weeping for her babies. She seemed to feel responsible for the Slytherins, for some reason. Kept saying she should have tried harder to save you lot. She even seemed worried about you, you slimy git. I suppose that was why Dumbledore told her about you being a spy, so she wouldn't worry."
Snape was too stunned to take offense at Black's insult. As much as he had feared Blackmore, she had been his favorite teacher, but he had never had any idea that she had cared for him and the other Slytherins so much. {One more thing to feel guilty about...} he thought.
***
Everyone remained quiet and subdued for the rest of the day. That night, Snape sullenly helped Lupin pack his things, preparing for his move to Black's house. It was a dark, moonless night, and pouring rain. Snape thought to himself with a certain sour satisfaction that at least the weather matched his mood. But the sound of a knock at the door snapped Snape out of his sulk.
"Were you expecting anyone?" he asked Lupin.
"N-no," stammered Lupin. "Sirius?" But Sirius shook his head as well. "No one but Albus is supposed to know we're here," Lupin said uneasily.
"Mr. Lupin? Mr. Snape? Sirius?" a woman's voice called out in an imperious tone. "I know you're in there! Open up; I'm soaking wet!" A raven cawed out in equally demanding tones.
Sirius dropped the mug of tea he had been holding, and it shattered into pieces on the floor, but none of the three men took the slightest notice of it. They just stared at each other, identical expressions of disbelief on their faces.
"It...it can't be," Sirius said.
Then the door flew open, despite the numerous wards of protection Lupin and Snape had placed upon the house to prevent intruders from breaking in. A woman walked through the doorway, her long black hair and green robes sopping wet, and an equally bedraggled-looking raven was perched on her shoulders. "Hello, Sirius, Remus, Severus," Branwen Blackmore said, looking no older than she had the last time they had seen her, about fourteen years ago. "It's been awhile."
-End-
Next story in the series: Return of the Raven (Prologue to Phoenix Reborn) (Part 1, Part 2).
***
Afterword: You won't find Moody's lightning spell and Rosier's Death Strike spell in any of the books; I made them up. I just translated the English words into Latin with a dictionary. As one reader astutely noticed awhile back, my invented spells, and particularly Professor Blackmore's summoning spells were influenced by the style of magic in the Dungeons and Dragons game, which I used to play quite avidly in high school and college. It's been a long time, so I'm not sure I remember correctly, but I seem to have a recollection that breaking a wizard's wand in D&D had a much more dramatic and dangerous effect than in the HP universe, and that inspired the Death Strike spell.
Also, the passage from the Bible is Matthew 2:17, where Herod has had all children of a certain age killed after the three wise men tell him that the King of the Jews has been born. I first read that passage in, of all places, a Peanuts comic when I was a kid, and for some reason it immediately came to mind when I pictured Blackmore weeping for her fallen students. That scene was also inspired by the Neon Genesis Evangelion anime--for those of you who know it, it is the episode where Shinji is trapped in the Eva robot (I don't remember exactly, but I think he's traumatized and doesn't want to come out), but he emerges on his own when he hears Misato, his guardian, weeping and thinks the sound is that of his (dead) mother crying.
Sorry, I realize that makes no sense if you're not familiar with the anime. But that image of Misato weeping for a child who is not hers by blood, but whom she has come to love as if he were her own, inspired the image of Blackmore weeping for Rosier and Wilkes. Just thought I'd share the sources of my inspiration.
Breakfast the next morning was a subdued affair. Both Snape and Sirius were very quiet and too embarrassed to look each other in the eye. It was a little awkward, but Lupin preferred the silence to their usual sniping and arguing. But finally, he broke the silence to tell Snape that Dumbledore had contacted them while he was gone, with the news that the Order of the Phoenix was being re-formed.
"Well, that makes sense," Snape said, sounding unsurprised.
"You know about the Order?" asked Sirius, who did sound surprised, at Snape's comment, if not Lupin's news.
"Of course I know about the Order, you imbecile," Snape replied in the haughty tone he usually used with Black. "Who do you think fed them all their secret information?"
"But you were never a member--"
"I was working undercover," Snape replied in that same superior tone of voice. "Let me see if I can explain it in simpler terms for you, Black: that means no one but Dumbledore and Blackmore knew what I was doing. Because otherwise, word might have gotten back to the Dark Lord, and he would have killed me--which I know would have hardly broken your heart--but then there would have been no one left to spy for your precious Order."
"Why you snotty little--"
"Sirius! Severus! Knock it off!" Lupin shouted impatiently. "We're all on the same side, remember? And this time around, we are all members of the Order, Severus included!" The two of them subsided, but glared at each other. Lupin sighed, dreading the next bit of news he had to break to Severus. "We have recruited several members, but the Order needs to remain secret, particularly with the stance the Ministry has taken against Dumbledore. A secret headquarters was needed, one that cannot be found or entered except by members of the Order, and Sirius has graciously offered the use of his family house--"
"WHAT?!" bellowed Snape.
Sirius smirked and said, "Better be nice to me Snape, if you want me to let you into the house--"
Lupin shot Sirius a glare and said pointedly, "ALL members of the Order will be able to come and go at will, but no one else will be able to enter, or even find the house without being given permission by the Headmaster. The Black house is ideal, because it's Unplottable--"
"My late, unlamented dad was rather paranoid," Sirius murmured.
"--And Albus has added his protections to it. He will be Secret-Keeper for the Order; no one will be able to find it unless he personally tells them where it is."
"Of course," Sirius interjected in a casual tone, "the house is in a state of disrepair. Needs a bit of cleaning up. We'll be heading over tomorrow to start getting it ready--"
"'We'?" Snape asked softly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Me and Moony," Sirius said, still in that oh-so-casual tone. "We were just waiting for you to get back before we started packing. Remus didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, of course--"
"WHAT?!"
"Severus--" Lupin began.
"All the members will be free to come and go, as Moony said," Sirius interrupted, a smug smile on his face. "Most of them have homes and jobs they need to attend to. But Remy and I will be living there--"
"WHAT?!" Snape's furious gaze swiveled back and forth between Sirius and Lupin.
"It's only practical,"Sirius said, enjoying himself thoroughly. "Someone needs to run the headquarters and--" "It's your house," snarled Snape. "Shouldn't that be your job, not Lupin's?"
"Don't be such a selfish git!" Sirius retorted. "With you running off doing your secret spy thing, Remus will be alone when you're not here. Things will start getting dangerous once we start moving against old Voldie, and he'll be safer at my house than alone in this cottage out in the middle of nowhere."
Snape opened his mouth to protest, then his eyes went wide and his face went pale as Black's words sunk in. The thought of Lupin being here alone, unprotected...
Lupin seemed to be reading his thoughts. "I am hardly defenseless," he said dryly to both his friend and his lover. "My specialty is Defense Against the Dark Arts, after all. But Sirius is right that it will be safer there, and it will be easier to operate out of a central base, not to mention communicate with the other members of the Order."
Snape closed his mouth and scowled. He didn't like it, but he couldn't argue with that. Black smirked again and Snape felt a strong urge to punch him in the face.
"Of course," Lupin added in a placating tone, "that doesn't mean that we can't sneak off alone somewhere together when we have some spare time. And of course, you can stay at headquarters, too."
Sirius was now the one scowling, but he did not--quite--contradict Lupin. "Of course you don't want to be running back and forth too much, Sevie--"
"Sirius!" snapped Lupin.
"Don't call me 'Sevie'!" snarled Snape.
"--in case your Death Eater friends are keeping tabs on you. Even if they can't enter the house, you don't want them to know you're associating with us. Wouldn't want to blow your cover, after all."
"I know how to avoid being followed, Black," Snape growled.
"Oh, and the Weasley family will be moving in later, at least for the summer, to help me get the place in order. You know, Molly and Arthur and the kids..." Sirius felt quite smug as he watched the expression on Snape's face keep changing, as if he could not decide whether to be angry or horrified. He knew Snape would not want to make kissy-face with Lupin in front of witnesses, particularly ones who were also his students.
Lupin was glaring at Sirius. "Molly and Arthur won't care about our personal relationship, Severus--"
"But it's nobody's business but ours!" protested Snape. "And the brats will gossip--"
"We can be discreet, Severus," Lupin said, in the tone of someone whose patience was being sorely tested. "The children don't have to know; no one but the three of us has to know, if you insist."
"I do insist!" said Snape, a little edge of hysteria creeping into his voice.
"Fine," sighed Lupin. "We'll begin moving in tomorrow. You can help us if you're not busy."
Snape sulked, Sirius smirked, and Lupin sighed again and began finishing his now-cold breakfast. Then something Snape had said belatedly registered in Sirius's mind. "Wait a minute--Blackmore knew you were a spy?" he asked.
"Yes," said Snape, still sulking. "Dumbledore didn't want too many people to know, but he said Blackmore could be trusted to keep her own counsel, and he seemed to think that if she believed I really were a Death Eater it would cause her emotional distress." He snorted at the thought of cold, terrifying Professor Blackmore showing such sentiment. "More likely he was afraid she'd kill me if she didn't know the truth."
Another silence fell over the breakfast table as the thoughts of all three men turned back towards their old professor...
***
Lupin's mind drifted back to his fifth year, a couple of weeks after the Shrieking Shack incident...
He tried to approach Severus as Incantations class ended, in another futile attempt to apologize to him. But Severus just sneered and pushed him aside as he headed for the door. Lupin stumbled and fell against a desk, dropping his books onto the floor.
"Mr. Snape!" Blackmore called out in her usual imperious tone.
"It's my fault, Professor," Lupin said hastily. "I wasn't watching where I was going, and I bumped into Severus."
Blackmore's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, and Snape quickly hurried out of the classroom before she could change her mind, but he shot Lupin a startled and resentful look. Lupin sighed, fighting back tears, as he bent down to pick up his books. Sirius left without looking back; he was still mad at Lupin for chasing after Snape. James and Peter started to help him, but Blackmore sent them on their way with an impatient gesture of her hand. When the room was empty except for the two of them, she knelt down beside him and helped him gather up his things, then said gently, "Don't give up on him, Mr. Lupin. Give things some time to heal."
Lupin looked up at her startled. He had never heard her use that kindly tone of voice before, and her green eyes were filled with sympathy and sadness. He wondered what she knew, if Dumbledore had told her what happened in the Shrieking Shack that night. He had thought it was supposed to be a secret. "Y-yes, Professor," Lupin stammered. She said nothing more, and Lupin hurried on to his next class.
{But I did give up,} the adult Lupin thought guiltily. Time did not seem to heal Snape's wounds, and after several weeks, Lupin eventually gave up trying to talk to him. He went through the rest of the school year, and the next two that followed, feeling hollow and numb inside. He made up--sort of--with Sirius, and took some comfort in his friendship with the other three Marauders, but he was never again the same mischievous, playful boy he had been before. He was no longer interested in their old adventures, exploring the school and running through the forest. James seemed to mature after that experience as well, becoming less arrogant and more thoughtful, but Snape never forgave him. And truthfully, despite the fact that he had saved Snape, James never stopped hating him either. In fact, he probably hated him more, for hurting Lupin's feelings. Severus, of course, had gone on to join Malfoy's in-crowd, and had eventually become a Death Eater.
{If I hadn't given up so easily,} Lupin wondered, {could I have stopped him? Could I have saved him?} Severus had eventually found his way back to the light, but Lupin might have been able to spare him years of torment and the permanent scars Voldemort had left on his soul...
***
Snape, too, recalled Blackmore talking to him shortly after the Shrieking Shack incident...
Snape and his Slytherin classmates burst out laughing as a black geyser shot up out of Sirius Black's ink bottle and into his face. Black spluttered and reached for his wand. "I know that was you, Snape!"
"Prove it, Black!"
"Why you--"
"Enough!" snapped Blackmore. "Black, go get cleaned up."
"But--"
"Now!"
There was no arguing with that tone of voice; Black gave Snape one last glare as he picked up his books and left the room.
"Class dismissed. Read chapter seven of your text, and be prepared to be tested on it tomorrow." The class groaned as they filed out of the room. "Mr. Snape, I'll see you in my office!"
"Uh oh," muttered Wilkes, giving Snape a look of sympathy.
The other Slytherins just looked relieved that Blackmore had singled out only Snape. "Better you than us, mate!" said Rosier, clapping Snape on the shoulder.
Snape just gave Rosier a cold stare. "Don't call me 'mate,' and get your hand off my shoulder or I'll remove it for you." From the look on his face, by "remove," he meant "sever at the wrist." Rosier hastily removed his hand as Snape followed their teacher out of the room.
"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," muttered Lestrange.
Snape sat in front of Blackmore's desk, bracing himself for whatever punishment she was about to dole out. But she didn't yell at him or assign him detention; she didn't even look angry. But she gave him a long, penetrating stare, as if she were trying to see right into his soul, which made him extremely uncomfortable. He sat rigidly still, forcing himself not to squirm. Finally, she said, in an almost mild tone, "You should choose your friends with more care, Mr. Snape."
He blinked. That was not what he had been expecting. "I have, Professor," he said coolly. "My friends come from all the oldest, most prominent wizarding families--"
But the Professor was shaking her head. "That means nothing, Mr. Snape." She picked up a shiny gold rock that had been serving as a paperweight, holding down a stack of essays on her desk. "Do you know what this is, Mr. Snape?"
He peered at it closely. "Pyrite?"
"Very good, Mr. Snape. Pyrite, otherwise known as Fool's Gold. Shiny and pretty on the surface, but worthless dross inside."
"I'm sure the Malfoys and the Rosiers would be fascinated to learn that you think of their sons as 'worthless dross'." {Oh my God, did I just talk back to Blackmore?!}
Bane gave him a baleful look from his perch behind the desk, but Blackmore went on as if she hadn't heard him. "I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Snape."
"Excuse me?" Snape played dumb, but he had a sinking feeling about where this conversation was heading...
"You and Mr. Lupin worked so well together--"
"We completed our project; now it's over," said Snape curtly. "There's no reason for us to continue to associate with each other."
Blackmore gave him a look of impatience and disappointment, as if her star student had suddenly become as dim as Goyle or Crabbe. It made him feel both ashamed and resentful. "A true friend is a rare treasure that should not be discarded like a piece of dross," she said coldly. "Or--discarded in exchange for a piece of dross."
Snape's face turned red; she had no right to talk to him like this, Professor or no! "Lupin is not my friend! And it's none of your business!"
"You seemed quite friendly over the Christmas holidays."
"Well, you are mistaken!"
"I never thought you were a coward, Severus," she said quietly.
"Excuse me?!"
"To run at the first sign of trouble," she continued in that quiet voice.
"I'm not running!"
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Aren't you?" As Snape sat there, flustered, torn between shame and anger, Blackmore continued in a more gentle voice, "Nothing worth having is easy, Severus. In any relationship, there will be problems, misunderstandings, arguments, that must be worked out."
"Lupin and I don't HAVE a relationship!"
"You will never have a true friend, Mr. Snape, if you flee every time the other person lets you down--"
"I have plenty of friends!"
"You have allies," Blackmore corrected. "Allies who will be your 'friends' as long as you have something they want, and who will discard you when you are no longer useful."
"Fine. I have allies. They are using me, but I am using them as well. You see," he said sarcastically, "it's a mutually beneficial relationship." He added defiantly, "I don't need friends!"
"We all need friends, Mr. Snape," the Professor said. She looked sad, which frightened Snape a little; he much preferred the cold, terrifying Professor to this compassionate woman. "Mr. Lupin did not betray you," she added quietly. "And if you would be honest with yourself, you would realize that is the truth."
Only his deeply-ingrained fear of her kept Snape from running out of the room right then and there. "I'll be late for my next class, Professor," he said, fighting to keep his voice emotionless. "May I be dismissed?"
She sighed wearily. "Yes, you may go." He fled the room, but took one glance back at the door, and saw her staring at the paperweight on her desk. She did not look up at him, but said in a voice so soft that he could barely hear it, "I only hope you realize what you have thrown away before it is too late."
Wilkes was waiting for him down the hall, which comforted Snape a little. "Hey," said Wilkes with relief. "You made it out in one piece! Did she give you detention?"
"No, she never even mentioned the ink bottle incident."
"Then what did she want?"
"A little heart-to-heart chat," Snape said scornfully. "If I didn't know better, I would think she was actually Dumbledore in disguise!"
Wilkes gave him a curious look. "What did she say?"
"Oh, some nonsense about choosing my friends more carefully."
Wilkes laughed. "She gave me the same lecture the other day, too! Something about how I shouldn't be a sheep. Baa baa!" He continued his sheep imitation as they hurried to their next class, ignoring the other students who looked at him in askance. Snape laughed and tried to put Blackmore's lecture out of his mind.
{But she was right,} Snape thought grimly. {We behaved like sheep, and it cost Wilkes his life. And I traded someone who loved me for a piece of worthless dross...}
***
Sirius remembered when he and Blackmore had both been members of the Order; he had been an Auror-in-training under her supervision. She had made it clear that she thought he was too impulsive and reckless to be an Auror, but their ranks had grown thin, thanks to the Death Eaters, and the Ministry was desperate. Accepting the inevitable, she took him under her wing, to "minimize the damage," she claimed. Sirius was a little resentful of her attitude, but he respected her--in fact, was still a little afraid of her, despite the fact that he was now an adult--and was determined to win her respect in return.
One day, she and Sirius, along with Alastor Moody and another trainee named Miles Dempsey, were sent to apprehend two Death Eaters--former classmates of Sirius's named Evan Rosier and Lyall Wilkes. They caught the two in the act of ransacking the house of a Muggle-born wizard, who managed to escape in the confusion as a fierce battle ensued. Spells were hurled back and forth, reducing the house to ruins, but finally it became clear that the two Death Eaters were losing: despite the power Voldemort had given them, they were outnumbered, and Blackmore and Moody alone were more powerful than they.
"It's over!" Moody shouted. "Come along quietly and we'll spare your lives!"
"What for?" snarled Rosier. "So we can rot in Azkaban? No thanks, I'd rather die!" A red beam of light shot out from his wand; Moody jumped out of the way just in time, and the wall behind him exploded into splinters.
"ARIANE IS PREGNANT, YOU IDIOT!" shouted Blackmore, and Rosier froze, a stunned look on his face. Blackmore lifted her hand, motioning for her comrades to hold their fire.
"Y-you're lying!" he stammered. "She never said--and how would you know, anyway?!"
"She probably didn't want to worry you," Blackmore said. "She's been throwing up a lot recently, hasn't she?" By the look on Rosier's face, she must have been right. "You thought it was a touch of the flu, but those healing potions haven't helped her...because no one's found a cure for morning sickness yet."
"You're gonna be a DAD?" exclaimed Wilkes excitedly, apparently forgetting for a moment that they were in the middle of a heated battle.
"Don't throw away your life, Evan," Blackmore said in a soft, yet urgent voice. "Ariane needs you, the baby needs you--"
"I can't...I can't betray my Lord," said Rosier, but he looked shaken. "And...what good will I do them in prison? I'd rather die, than have the Dementors steal my soul!"
"Voldemort has already stolen your soul," growled Moody, but Blackmore shushed him.
"Evan, Lyall," she said in that same soft voice, "if you show repentance, the courts will show mercy." They looked dubious. "I will help you, I swear, I will speak on your behalf! I remember the boys you were in school...I do not believe those boys were evil. Misguided, perhaps, but not evil. I remember the boy who had the gall to ask me for a dance at the Yule Ball, Evan. And I remember, Lyall, your loyalty to your friends, and how you would serve detention alone, scrubbing bedpans in the infirmary, rather than give up Evan's name when you were caught pulling a prank. All my wealth, power, and influence I will use on your behalf, if you will truly renounce your allegiance to Voldemort!"
Blackmore's wealth and influence were considerable, and Sirius and Miles stared at her in shock, and Moody in disgust; why would she go so far out on a limb for two Death Eaters, who had tortured and probably killed countless Muggles and Muggle-born?
Wilkes looked frightened and uncertain; he turned to Rosier for support. Rosier spoke defiantly, but he looked a little unsure of himself as well. "You want me to betray my Master?"
"He has already betrayed you, Evan; he cares nothing for you, he is only using you--"
"That's not true!" protested Wilkes. "He's trying to save the wizard race--"
Blackmore ignored him, focusing on Rosier. "Evan, please, surrender for the baby's sake! Don't let your child grow up without a father! Don't bequeath your son a legacy of blood and hatred!"
"A son?" he whispered. "It's a boy?" Blackmore nodded. Sirius had no idea how she knew this, but Rosier seemed to believe her, and for a moment it seemed that she had persuaded him. Then his face hardened, and he said, "My son will not have a coward or a traitor for a father!" He lifted his wand, but pointed it in Moody's direction, not Blackmore's. "Avada--"
"Fulmen!" shouted Moody, and a lightning bolt leaped out of his wand, heading straight towards the two Death Eaters. They dove out of the way; Rosier was unable to complete his spell, and Wilkes was wounded, crying out in pain as the bolt grazed him. He fell to the ground, dropping his wand and clutching at his right arm--the sleeve of his robe had burned away, leaving seared flesh beneath it.
Blackmore had begun muttering an incantation, and before the two could recover from the attack, shadowy black tentacles exploded up through the floor, reaching up to bind the Death Eaters. Rosier struggled for a few minutes, then suddenly lowered his wand and said, "All right, I give up!"
"You should have accepted Branwen's offer of mercy," sneered Dempsey, as he approached Rosier. He was clearly thrilled that they would be bringing in two captives; Sirius knew that he was eager to advance himself and become a full Auror.
"NO!" screamed Blackmore. "It's a trick!" Sirius was startled, but silently cursed himself; he should have realized Rosier would never give up so easily. He raised his wand and started forward, but Blackmore grabbed him--with a strength that was surprising for a slim woman considerably shorter and lighter than he was--and dragged him behind her. She raised her wand, shouted a charm, and a shield of red light appeared in front of them, just as Dempsey reached Rosier.
Rosier's dark eyes had a wild, malicious gleam to them. He smiled and whispered, "Mors Incurso," and snapped his wand in two. Death Strike. It was a very ancient spell, almost never used, because it cost the caster his life. But when death was inevitable, it could be used to take an enemy down with you...
A huge explosion rocked what remained of the house. Despite the shield, Blackmore and Sirius were knocked to the ground, but were otherwise unharmed. The others were not so lucky. Dempsey was dead, reduced to a charred corpse. Moody, who had been trying to reach Dempsey, had not had time to fully shield himself, and his face and chest were a bloody, mangled mess. There seemed to be a large chunk missing from his nose. Of Rosier, there was nothing left but ashes. Wilkes lay wounded, charred, and bleeding on the floor, but was still alive. He raised his wand in a trembling hand.
"No, Lyall," Blackmore whispered.
"I can't betray Evan," he whispered back. "I'm sorry." But although Blackmore was closer to him, Wilkes, like Rosier, pointed his wand at Moody. "Avada--"
"Expelliarmus!" Blackmore and Sirius shouted simultaneously, and Moody, it seemed, was still well enough to battle, because a ray of green light sprang from his wand and hit Wilkes in the chest, knocking him backwards. Wilkes's wand flew out of his hands, and he was hurled back several feet, slamming into the wall with a loud crash.
Blackmore ran towards him; he was alive, just barely. She dropped her wand and sank to the floor beside him, and Sirius was horrified, although Wilkes was clearly no longer a threat. He blinked and looked up at her, looking hurt, frightened, and confused, like a child who has just experienced pain for the first time. She gently eased his head onto her lap and stroked his hair. "Pro...professor," he gasped, then coughed, drops of blood flying from his mouth.
"Shhh, Lyall, don't speak," she said, still stroking his hair.
"I...I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes still filled with fear and confusion. "Fo...forgive me..."
"I forgive you, child," Blackmore said, in a soft and tender voice Sirius had never heard her use before. She bent down and gently kissed his forehead. Lyall's eyes closed, and he sighed; whether Blackmore had used some kind of healing charm, or whether he simply found comfort in that gesture of affection, it seemed to ease his pain. Then he exhaled one last, rattling breath and died, and Blackmore began to weep. Sirius was stunned to see and hear Professor Blackmore, whom all the students had feared, weeping like a heartbroken girl. {No,} Sirius decided on second thought. {Weeping like a mother who has lost her child.} Although he was not a religious man, a phrase from the Bible suddenly came to mind, one Dumbledore had used in a lecture, when discussing prejudice and genocide in both Muggle and wizard history: "A voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping; it was Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be comforted, because they were no more."
Moody staggered over. "Don't waste your tears on this scum, Branwen," he said, gruffly but not unkindly. "He's not worth it."
"They were only boys," Blackmore wept.
"They were grown men, the same age as me," Sirius protested. "If I'm old enough to know better, so were they."
"They were all my children," Blackmore said, still bent over Lyall's body, her tears falling down onto his face. "I should have tried harder to save them. I should have tried harder to reach them. No one but me really cared for them, my Slytherin children; no one else tried to save them. I was all they had; I should have tried harder..."
Sirius hovered over her helplessly. He reached out with one hand, whether to give her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder or to pull her away from Lyall's corpse, he wasn't sure. But Moody stopped him, and led him away to tend to Dempsey's body. "Leave her be, lad," Moody said in that gruff tone. "It's a womanly thing, I suppose, though I never figured Branwen to be the sentimental type, especially over scum like these two."
Later, after taking Moody to St. Mungo's for healing, and delivering Wilkes's and Dempsey's bodies to the Ministry and filing their reports, Blackmore and Sirius had a quiet drink together at The Leaky Cauldron.
"I never knew you were that close to Rosier and Wilkes, Professor," Sirius said.
She gave him a wan smile. "I told you, Sirius, since we are colleagues now, you might as well go ahead and call me Branwen. I'm no longer a Professor, anyway." Sirius had not forgotten, but he still found it difficult to call her by her first name. "But to answer your question, I cared for all my students--" Her smile grew a little wider at the shocked look on Sirius's face. "Well, I didn't want you all to think I was soft, so of course I was strict with you!" Then her smile faded. "But perhaps I should have let you students see how much I cared. Perhaps that would have made a difference. I thought I was doing the right thing, Sirius, pushing all of you so hard, because I knew someday it might make the difference between life and death. And I was careful not to play favorites, because so many of the other teachers did. But secretly, in my heart, I had a soft spot for the Slytherins."
"Why?" Sirius asked, startled. "You were a Ravenclaw, weren't you?"
"My father, and at least half of my ancestors, including the founder of my clan, Lady Regan Blackmore, were all Slytherins!" Blackmore said sharply.
"But Slytherins are--" Sirius began automatically, then quickly thought better of it.
"Evil, you meant to say?" Blackmore said, an edge to her voice. "That is the common belief, after all. It is true that Slytherins tend by definition to be ambitious, and many of them have...flexible...morals, but not all of them are evil. Many of your own family members are Slytherins, are they not?"
"Why do you think I think all Slytherins are evil?" Sirius asked dryly.
Blackmore shook her head and gave him a sad smile. "My father, it is true, was interested in the Dark Arts, but he was a kind and loving man. I remember him singing me to sleep at night when I was a little girl. Actually, he had remarkably little ambition for a Slytherin; he was more of a scholar, and simply wished to be left alone to pursue his books and his research. He loved to collect old tales and ballads, and would sing and play guitar for me and my mother beside the fireplace in the evenings, a glass of fine wine on the table by his side. I had my own glass of apple cider, but he would let me taste a sip from his glass when my mother wasn't looking." Her green eyes had a wistful, faraway look in them, and Bane cawed softly from his perch on her shoulder, and rubbed his face against her cheek. She patted him absent-mindedly and continued, "Because I had friends and relatives among the Slytherins, I do not see them as one collective House; I see them as individuals, with both good and bad among them."
Sirius said hesitantly, "Earlier today, you said you were the only one who cared about the Slytherins, the only one who tried to save them. But what about Dumbledore, and the Head of Slytherin House?"
Blackmore sighed. "Well, perhaps I exaggerated a little, but not by much. I don't think that the Head of Slytherin, Professor De Lacy, is a Dark Wizard, but he fears Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and is too cowed to take a stance against them. Albus does care about them, it is true, and he has tried to reach out to some of them, but he isn't able to spend one-on-one time with all of them. And I have long complained to him that he has underestimated the effect of House rivalry on the school morale. The Slytherins in particular are despised by the other Houses, and they have developed an 'us against the world' mentality, which is only reinforced by Salazar Slytherin's teachings. The Slytherins are more at risk than any other House, more susceptible to leaders such as Voldemort, who will play on their ambitions and grudges, and twist their souls till they become as dark and foul as his. The Slytherin children needed extra care and compassion; I tried to give it to them, but I fear I have failed miserably." Her face filled with the same guilt and sorrow she had shown on the battlefield earlier that day. "Lyall was not a bad boy, just very gullible and easily misled. He had the very bad habit of doing whatever Evan told him to, without question. Other boys would have resented being in Evan's shadow; he was always more popular with the girls, more outstanding on the Quidditch field, but Lyall never seemed to mind. He worshipped Evan. And Evan, while he was one of those with 'flexible morals,' was not evil, at least not at first. Mischievous and spoiled and quite full of himself, but not evil. I hoped for awhile, that Ariane's love would save him, but instead it proved to be his downfall."
"You can't blame yourself, Prof--Branwen," Sirius protested. "They made their own choices. Maybe your father was a good guy, maybe other Slytherins are okay--" Sirius didn't really believe it, but he conceded the point for the sake of argument. "--But that lot were just plain bad. Just like their pals Malfoy and Snape--"
Instead of being comforted, Blackmore looked angry. "You bear some responsibility for the path Mr. Snape has taken in life, Mr. Black."
"What?! What did I--"
"Mr. Lupin's friendship might have helped him resist the lure of Malfoy and Voldemort--"
{How the hell does she know about that?!} wondered Sirius. "I don't believe that!" he shouted. "And anyway, it doesn't matter! He's an adult, he's responsible for his own choices, and he chose to serve Voldemort!"
"Yes," Blackmore said coldly, "he must take responsibility for his actions. But so must you, for yours, Sirius. You may not have a loving family, but you have always been popular, and you have three very close friends who are like brothers to you. Severus has always been alone; he had no one but Remus. You have no idea how hard it is to resist temptation when you have to stand alone, and you took from him his sole support." Sirius spluttered in outrage as she continued, "Oh, Albus tried to help him, but his faith in the Headmaster was destroyed when Albus could not give you the punishment you so richly deserved for fear of destroying Mr. Lupin's life. I tried to reach out to him, but it was too late; he had seen the people he cared most for betray him, and he was not about to trust anyone else."
"That's not fair!" snapped Sirius, his face turning red with anger. "Snape was just born bad--"
"No one is 'born bad,' Mr. Black," his former Professor said, just as angrily. "They are MADE bad, by upbringing, environment, and circumstance. The Slytherins have their faults, it is true, but so do the Gryffindors. And the worst fault of the Gryffindors is this: that they tend to see things only in black and white. Mr. Snape is, shall we say, a shade of gray, but you and your friends--save for Lupin--could not see gray, so you saw him only as black. If you do not change, that will be your downfall one day. If you remain intolerant and unyielding, one day you will become tyrants no better than the Dark Lord."
"How--how dare you!" spluttered Sirius.
"I see you are not ready to hear this now," Blackmore said coolly. "But one day you will be, if you become the man I think you can be. Then again, I thought I could save Rosier and Wilkes, too..." She tossed a handful of coins down on the table to pay for their drinks, then left without another word.
Sirius never saw her again after that. A week later, her house was attacked. No sign of her remained save for a copious amount of blood and the bodies of three Death Eaters, and she was pronounced, "missing, presumed dead."
***
"Sirius, are you all right?" Lupin was saying.
Sirius slowly looked up, returning to the present. "I was just thinking about Professor Blackmore..."
"You too?" Lupin and Snape chorused, then looked at each other, startled.
"I was with her and Moody when we took down Rosier and Wilkes," Sirius said. Something flickered in Snape's eyes, then an expressionless mask fell over his face. "You were wrong, you know," Sirius said to Snape. "About her not being sentimental. She tried to get Rosier and Wilkes to surrender. When they didn't, and Moody had to kill them, she wept."
"She did WHAT?!" exclaimed Snape.
"I'm not lying," insisted Sirius. "She really did cry. Like a mother weeping for her babies. She seemed to feel responsible for the Slytherins, for some reason. Kept saying she should have tried harder to save you lot. She even seemed worried about you, you slimy git. I suppose that was why Dumbledore told her about you being a spy, so she wouldn't worry."
Snape was too stunned to take offense at Black's insult. As much as he had feared Blackmore, she had been his favorite teacher, but he had never had any idea that she had cared for him and the other Slytherins so much. {One more thing to feel guilty about...} he thought.
***
Everyone remained quiet and subdued for the rest of the day. That night, Snape sullenly helped Lupin pack his things, preparing for his move to Black's house. It was a dark, moonless night, and pouring rain. Snape thought to himself with a certain sour satisfaction that at least the weather matched his mood. But the sound of a knock at the door snapped Snape out of his sulk.
"Were you expecting anyone?" he asked Lupin.
"N-no," stammered Lupin. "Sirius?" But Sirius shook his head as well. "No one but Albus is supposed to know we're here," Lupin said uneasily.
"Mr. Lupin? Mr. Snape? Sirius?" a woman's voice called out in an imperious tone. "I know you're in there! Open up; I'm soaking wet!" A raven cawed out in equally demanding tones.
Sirius dropped the mug of tea he had been holding, and it shattered into pieces on the floor, but none of the three men took the slightest notice of it. They just stared at each other, identical expressions of disbelief on their faces.
"It...it can't be," Sirius said.
Then the door flew open, despite the numerous wards of protection Lupin and Snape had placed upon the house to prevent intruders from breaking in. A woman walked through the doorway, her long black hair and green robes sopping wet, and an equally bedraggled-looking raven was perched on her shoulders. "Hello, Sirius, Remus, Severus," Branwen Blackmore said, looking no older than she had the last time they had seen her, about fourteen years ago. "It's been awhile."
-End-
Next story in the series: Return of the Raven (Prologue to Phoenix Reborn) (Part 1, Part 2).
***
Afterword: You won't find Moody's lightning spell and Rosier's Death Strike spell in any of the books; I made them up. I just translated the English words into Latin with a dictionary. As one reader astutely noticed awhile back, my invented spells, and particularly Professor Blackmore's summoning spells were influenced by the style of magic in the Dungeons and Dragons game, which I used to play quite avidly in high school and college. It's been a long time, so I'm not sure I remember correctly, but I seem to have a recollection that breaking a wizard's wand in D&D had a much more dramatic and dangerous effect than in the HP universe, and that inspired the Death Strike spell.
Also, the passage from the Bible is Matthew 2:17, where Herod has had all children of a certain age killed after the three wise men tell him that the King of the Jews has been born. I first read that passage in, of all places, a Peanuts comic when I was a kid, and for some reason it immediately came to mind when I pictured Blackmore weeping for her fallen students. That scene was also inspired by the Neon Genesis Evangelion anime--for those of you who know it, it is the episode where Shinji is trapped in the Eva robot (I don't remember exactly, but I think he's traumatized and doesn't want to come out), but he emerges on his own when he hears Misato, his guardian, weeping and thinks the sound is that of his (dead) mother crying.
Sorry, I realize that makes no sense if you're not familiar with the anime. But that image of Misato weeping for a child who is not hers by blood, but whom she has come to love as if he were her own, inspired the image of Blackmore weeping for Rosier and Wilkes. Just thought I'd share the sources of my inspiration.