FIC: Phoenix Reborn, Part 1 of 8

[geri_chan]

Continuing with the reposting of my old Snupin fics. We're getting into the longer stories now, so I'll be posting them in segments so as to avoid spamming the F-list all at once. The complete series can still be found on the Moonshadow archive.

Title: Phoenix Reborn, Part 1 of 8
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~10,070
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Warning: AU; no character death at the end of the story.
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), Three's a Crowd (or, Summer Vacation II) (Part 1, Part 2), Return of the Raven (Part 1, Part 2).
Summary: My AU version of Order of the Phoenix--Snape and Lupin find their relationship is strained and tested by their duties to the Order and the fact that Lupin is living in Sirius Black's house.

***

Snape helped Lupin and Blackmore move their things into Sirius Black's house--although they didn't really have much to move. Lupin, being poor, had a limited amount of possessions, and Blackmore didn't bring back much with her from the Demon Realm other than some clothing and jewelry her grandfather had given her, although she did Apparate to the ruins of Blackmore Manor to fetch a few books and other personal belongings that had not been destroyed during the battle with the Death Eaters. Snape shook his head; he was still having trouble believing that his former Professor's many-times-over great-grandfather was a Demon Prince.

He looked distastefully around at the house; since Black was the last living member of the family, the house had been empty for years and had fallen into a state of disrepair. It was filthy, filled with nasty little vermin like boggarts and doxies, and the portrait of Black's harridan of a mother harangued them every time they made too much noise or accidentally pulled the curtains back from the portrait. It was hard to believe, but Sirius Black actually seemed to be the least offensive member of the clan, judging by the portraits. If he hadn't hated Black so much, Snape might almost have felt sorry for him; the Blacks seemed to be even worse than his own family, if that were possible. And that half-mad house-elf that crept around insulting everyone didn't do anything to make the atmosphere more pleasant. On the other hand, who could blame him for going mad with that stupid portrait yapping at him all the time? Snape's relatives might be evil, cold-hearted, and cruel, but at least they had been quiet!

"Couldn't we have used your house as our headquarters instead, Professor?" Snape asked Blackmore sourly. "Even if it was wrecked during the battle, it can hardly be worse than this."

"Unfortunately, my house is not Unplottable, and the Black house is," Blackmore replied. "And I hate to admit it, but the protections on the Black house are even stronger than the ones laid on Blackmore Manor. Of course, the fact that we had the ability to summon demons may have made my family a bit complacent..."

"Believe me, Snape," Sirius said in a caustic voice, "I don't want to be here any more than you do! I don't exactly have a lot of fond memories of this place."

"It'll be all right," Lupin said in a tone of forced cheer, "once we clean up the place a bit."

"Nasty wolf-blood creature," muttered Kreacher. "What would my poor Mistress say if she knew Master had brought beasts and traitors into her house?"

Snape snarled and reached for his wand, but Lupin laid a restraining hand on his arm and shook his head. "Leave him be, Severus," Lupin said quietly.

"Don't forget demons," Blackmore cheerfully reminded Kreacher. The house-elf stared at her for a moment, then beat a hasty retreat out of the room. Her raven familiar Bane cawed mockingly after him from his perch on Blackmore's shoulder.

Sirius chuckled. "So, you strike fear into the hearts of house-elves as well as students, Branwen! Good, I'll call on you whenever Kreacher starts to get out of line."

They got settled in, each choosing bedrooms upstairs. Lupin claimed two adjoining rooms for his and Snape's use. "This is quite ideal," Lupin said happily. From the outside, the rooms appeared to be completely separate, but there was a door in the wall between them linking the two rooms together. It would allow the two lovers to enjoy each other's company while satisfying Snape's insistence that none of the other Order members learn of their relationship. Snape seemed pleased, and Lupin decided not to point out that people might still think it odd that two supposed-enemies had chosen rooms right next to each other.

Sirius scowled, but under Blackmore's watchful eye, said nothing, and stomped sullenly off to his own room. Blackmore smiled and left as well, quietly closing the door behind her. Lupin and Snape set about cleaning their rooms, chasing vermin out of the closets and dressers, and began unpacking their things.

Lupin cautiously sat on his bed; when nothing emerged from under the covers or the bed itself but a small puff of dust, he cast a cleaning spell with a quick flick of his wand, and threw his full weight back on the bed, bouncing slightly. "Hmm," he said. "Springy. Quite comfortable, really." He smiled enticingly at Snape. "Why don't you help me try it out?"

Snape immediately dropped the robes he had been hanging up in the closet onto the floor. It was nowhere near the full moon, but if Lupin's inner wolf was feeling...frisky...who was Snape to argue? Snape began feeling rather frisky himself; although he normally abhorred using magic for frivolous reasons, he Apparated himself across the room, directly on top of the bed and, not incidentally, Lupin.

"Oof!" exclaimed Lupin, when Snape landed on him a little more heavily than he had intended. But when Snape tried to roll off of him, Lupin reached up, entwined his hands in Snape's sleek, black hair, and firmly pulled his face down to be kissed. Snape found the idea of making love to Lupin beneath Black's roof to be rather titillating, in a slightly perverse sort of way, and enthusiastically returned the kiss. Kissing led to caressing, which led to undressing, and things were proceeding quite nicely when suddenly a voice screamed:

"FILTH! PERVERTS! LOVERS-OF-MEN! HOW DARE YOU PERFORM UNNATURAL ACTS BENEATH THE ROOF OF THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK--"

"Damn this house!" snarled Snape, reaching for his wand. He had overlooked the painting on the wall, since it had appeared to be merely a still life of a bowl of fruit sitting on a table. But now there was a sour-faced old man in it who bore a strong resemblance to the painting of Black's mother downstairs; apparently the occupant of the portrait had been visiting one of his equally nasty relatives and had just returned home to his own painting. Snape pointed his wand at the painting and a ray of red light shot out of it; the old man yelped and vanished, and the portrait exploded into a shower of frame fragments and bits of canvas. Snape set his wand back down, a look of smug satisfaction on his face. He turned back to Lupin, saying, "I'll clean up that mess later, but for now why don't we get back to performing some of those unnatural acts our uninvited guest mentioned...?"

Lupin laughed, batted his eyelashes at Snape, and said in tones of admiration, "My, you handled that portrait so masterfully, Severus! Maybe you should help Sirius keep Mrs. Black under control downstairs."

Snape knew Lupin was just teasing him, but he preened a little nonetheless. "Let Black deal with his own mother," Snape said in a haughty voice. "I've got better things to do right now, don't you think?"

His hands began sliding over his lover's body, and Lupin gasped, "Yes, definitely!"

"But if you really think I need to go deal with the portrait right now..."

"Don't you dare stop, Severus!" Lupin growled, and it was Snape's turn to laugh. Lupin wrapped his arms around Snape tightly and growled softly into his ear, "It's not wise to arouse a werewolf and leave the job unfinished..."

That little growl, and the way Lupin was baring his teeth at him, half-threateningly, half-playfully, sent shivers of excitement up and down Snape's spine. "I see I have unleashed the beast in you, Lupin," he purred.

"Yes," agreed Lupin, with a hungry, feral look in his blue eyes that only increased Snape's desire. "It's all your fault. So it's up to you to pacify the beast."

Snape thought that was a bit unfair, since Lupin had started all this, not him. But he certainly didn't want to do anything that would discourage Lupin from initiating sex in the future, so he just grinned and said, "Never let it be said that I don't do my duty by the Order!" His hands continued to caress Lupin, and he murmured into his lover's ear, "You know, what we're doing is doubly unnatural, since you're not only male, but a werewolf..."

"Does that excite you, Severus?" Lupin asked.

"Well, yes, actually it does," Snape replied cheerfully. "Doesn't it excite you?"

"Well...yes," Lupin admitted, blushing a little. But the wolf was too much in control right now for him to be embarrassed about it for long, and the two lovers gleefully set about performing acts that would have utterly scandalized the scions of the noble house of Black, had any of them been present to watch.

***

Later, the four wizards sat down to dinner together. Blackmore and Sirius had prepared the meal, since no one trusted Kreacher not to poison them, either on purpose or by accident.

"How nice of you to grace us with your presence," Sirius said sarcastically to Snape and Lupin, who had finally emerged from their rooms after he and Blackmore had spent the past few hours cleaning up the kitchen and cooking.

Lupin took a seat at the kitchen table without replying; Sirius wasn't even sure if his friend had heard him. Lupin's face was slightly flushed, and there was a dreamy look in his blue eyes and a wide, silly-looking grin on his face--the same grin Sirius had first noticed on Lupin's face when he had received a love letter from Snape last summer. Sirius scowled.

For once, Snape did not respond in kind to Sirius's insult. Instead, he smiled in a smugly satisfied way. "I'll have you know we were quite busy cleaning your house, Black."

"Quite busy," Lupin said dreamily.

Sirius gave them a skeptical look. "Oh, I'm sure you were 'quite busy'--but not cleaning!"

"Well, there is one less portrait in the house now," Snape said in that same smug manner.

"Severus lost his temper," Lupin said with a grin.

"He was insulting us," Snape said in a tone of offended dignity.

"He called us perverts," Lupin added helpfully.

"I don't really want to know the details," Sirius said hastily, glaring at his friend. "Er...by the way, who was it?"

"How should I know, Black?" Snape snapped. "All your relatives look alike."

"There was a bowl of fruit in the picture," Lupin said.

"Oh, that's probably Uncle Perseus, then. No loss." Sirius paused, then looked at Snape again, with real interest this time. "You were really able to destroy the portrait?"

"Yes, but I think your uncle may have jumped out of it before I destroyed it," Snape replied, sounding disappointed.

"Hmm," Sirius said with a thoughtful look on his face. "I don't suppose you can do anything about my mother's portrait?"

Snape smirked. "I wouldn't want to interfere in a mother-son relationship, Black. Your mother is your problem."

Sirius scowled, but Blackmore set a pot of stew on the table and announced, "Dinner's ready," the stern look on her face forestalling any further arguments. The discussion turned towards their efforts to re-form the Order of the Phoenix. Most of the surviving old members, such as Mad-Eye Moody and the Weasleys, were eager to re-join, but recruiting new members was proving difficult, thanks to Cornelius Fudge.

"What about your grandfather?" Sirius asked Blackmore. "Can he help us?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Sirius," Lupin said, looking a little alarmed.

"Why not?" Sirius asked. "He seems pretty powerful. He took out three Death Eaters just like that!" Sirius snapped his fingers.

Snape glared at him. "Am I hearing correctly, Black? You call me evil because of my knowledge of the Dark Arts, but you're willing to unleash a Greater Demon upon the world?"

"Well, but he IS Branwen's grandfather," Sirius said defensively.

"Severus is correct," Blackmore said. She added with a wry smile, "Not very tactful--but correct. You must not make the mistake of assuming that Araqiel is benevolent to all mankind just because he is my ancestor. All demons thrive on chaos and strife, and Araqiel has no particular love for the human race, aside from Lady Regan and her descendants. He is fascinated by humanity, yes, but do you not recall how I told you that he would watch human war and conflict for entertainment? He is moved on occasion by love and nobility, but like all demons, he also delights in watching bloodshed. I love my grandfather and he loves me, but it would be very, very unwise to summon him without any putting any restrictions on him, and I do not think that any mage living now is strong enough to bind him. Possibly Dumbledore, but I wouldn't want to risk it. Why do you think I summoned Araqiel only as a last resort, when I was dying? Fortunately, he loved me enough to take me back immediately to his own realm for healing, without pausing to make mischief on the earth. But if we summon him to fight in our war without binding him to a contract, he might not simply go home when the war was over. He might want to stay and found an earthly kingdom to match the one he has in the Demon Realm."

"Even if you didn't want him to?" Sirius asked, looking a little stunned by what she had just told them.

"He loves me, Sirius," Blackmore said patiently, "and would never harm me, but that doesn't mean that he will obey me: look at how he forbade me to go home for fourteen years. He regards me as a child, and compared to him, I am; he is over a thousand years old, with powers I can only dream of. And even if he did agree to tamely go home after Voldemort was defeated, you might not like the way demons wage war. I imagine that Albus would like to keep the bloodshed to a minimum, and so would I, but demons gain power from blood sacrifice. If you summon a demon to fight for you, most likely he will slaughter every enemy he can find, and possibly a few members from your own side if they happen to get in his way. And finally, we do not want to disrupt the balance of power. I am sure Voldemort knows how to summon a demon, but even he is not foolish enough to do so. But if we summon a demon of our own, Voldemort might feel forced to do the same, and if you think one demon can wreak havoc on the world, imagine two or more..."

"All right, all right, I get the picture!" said Sirius. "Forget I asked!"

Blackmore patted him on the hand sympathetically. "I must admit, I did entertain such thoughts myself, but only briefly; in the end, I believe it would do more harm than good." Then she paused and said, sounding a little annoyed, and much like the teacher she used to be, "You must learn to think before you act, Mr. Black. I would have thought that by now you would have learned to curb your impulsiveness at least a little..."

Snape snickered, and Blackmore gave him a sharp look and said pointedly, "I had hoped you BOTH would have gained some maturity over the years, but I see my hopes were in vain."

Both Snape and Sirius subsided into a sulky silence, while Lupin tried very hard not to laugh.

***

Ariane Donner was delighted to have her son back home for the summer, but she was disturbed by what he had told her. As soon as they were alone together, Dylan poured out his heart to her, his words tumbling over each other so quickly that she couldn't understand him and had to get him to calm down and speak more slowly. But that was only natural--Dylan by necessity was forced to constantly be on his guard with everyone else; he could only truly relax and talk freely with his mother. He told her all about Professor Snape, how he had told Dylan stories about Evan, and how he had cautioned Dylan to be careful around Draco Malfoy--which was a little odd; it was good advice, but nearly everyone in the wizarding world thought Snape was Lucius Malfoy's lapdog. She was pleased that Dylan was perceptive enough to notice that little incongruent detail, but she was less pleased that Dylan seemed to have taken a liking to Snape. He didn't come right out and say so, but it was clear that he admired and respected the Potions Master. Severus had helped them both, and he was an honorable man--or at least as honorable as any former Death Eater was capable of being--but she didn't trust him to look after Dylan's safety if doing so conflicted with his own interests. Snape, like most Slytherins, was mainly concerned in looking after number one--in other words, himself. Guilt and honor would only motivate him up to a certain point before his self-preservation instincts kicked in, and she didn't want Dylan relying too heavily on him. She reminded Dylan of this, and he said, "Yes, Mother," but in an impatient tone, and she wasn't sure if he was really taking her seriously.

She was also concerned about his crush on the Muggle-born girl, Hermione. He was clearly conflicted, torn between his feelings for the girl and the ideals his father had died for. He raved about how smart and pretty and fiercely independent she was. "She's so talented," Dylan was saying. "She's the best wizard in her class, pureblood or not; maybe she's the exception that proves the rule?"

Ariane was thinking that although she didn't particularly want to kill Muggles and Mudbloods as Voldemort had, neither did she want one for a daughter-in-law. Then she told herself she was being silly; Dylan was only thirteen--there would be many more girls after this one. She smiled indulgently and patted her son's hand. "You're young still, Dylan. You will break a great many hearts before you graduate, but I suppose there's no harm in pursuing a friendship with this girl for now--so long as it doesn't affect your status in Slytherin House."

"But the Dark Lord--" he protested.

"Has not yet risen," Ariane said.

"But Draco says he has!"

"What?!" exclaimed Ariane.

"Didn't you hear about Cedric Diggory's death?"

"The Daily Prophet said there was some kind of accident during the Tournament--"

"Draco says the Dark Lord killed him! And Dumbledore said so too!" Excitedly, Dylan told her everything Draco had said, about Voldemort's return, that the Malfoys were in his service, how Draco had said they would be inducted into the ranks of the Death Eaters in the future although they were too young for that now, and that Draco had invited him over for the summer.

Ariane's face went white. "Absolutely not!" she said. "Lucius Malfoy cannot be trusted!"

"I know, Mother," Dylan said. "So I told Draco I couldn't go, but I blamed it on Grandmother."

"Good boy," she said, but she was still inwardly shaking with fear. Joining the ranks of the Death Eaters would be the only way Ariane and Dylan would ever get revenge for Evan's death, the only way the two of them could escape a life of obscurity and exile. But the Dark Lord had promised them power the first time around, and Evan had died and Voldemort had fallen. It was only thanks to Evan's protectiveness and her own pragmatism that she had not ended up in Azkaban: Evan had taught her all of the spells Voldemort taught his Death Eaters, but she had never formally joined their ranks. He had wanted her to have "plausible deniability" in case anything happened to him, and she had agreed, although she had not really believed that Evan would die. She had not really wanted to become a Death Eater anyway, or at least she had no taste for torturing and killing Muggles and Mudbloods, but she had craved the power Voldemort offered his followers, had dreamed of she and Evan being among the ruling elite of the wizarding world; she had wanted to humble her mother and brothers for disowning her and scorning her lover. But it had all gone to hell, with the Dark Lord's followers disgraced, in prison, or in hiding.

She had prepared Dylan for the second coming of the Dark Lord, but she now realized that deep inside, she had not really expected it to happen. And she was no longer sure that the mere chance of power and revenge was worth risking her son's life for. The Dark Lord had failed her before; she would not blindly hand her son over to him now. It might be that Voldemort would prevail and they would have no choice but to join him, but she wanted some guarantee of success before she did so. But timing would be critical: throw in their lot with Voldemort too soon, and they risked death and punishment if the Dark Lord fell again, but if they waited too long and the Dark Lord did prevail, they would not be of the elite, but merely part of the rabble.

"Do nothing for now," Ariane said in a slightly shaky voice. "Try to keep on Draco's good side, but commit to nothing, and never, ever let him take you to any secret meetings without my permission, do you understand me, Dylan?"

"Yes, Mother," Dylan whispered. He too, seemed to be frightened and conflicted. "I thought this was what I wanted, Mother, but now I'm not so sure." Looking a little shamefaced, he said, "I'm afraid. I saw Diggory's dead body on the field. I--I didn't think it would happen this way."

"I know," Ariane said softly, reaching out to caress his cheek.

"And I don't want Hermione to die. And I don't want to fight Uncle Math if he decides to fight against the Dark Lord again!" Dylan looked up with a more determined expression on his face. "But I want to avenge Father's death. And I want to make Grandmother and my uncles sorry for the way they've treated you; I want to make you head of the Donner family, as you should be!"

"Oh my dear son," Ariane whispered. "That doesn't matter to me--not more than your life. I would rather spend the rest of my life in exile than lose you like I lost your father."

"But--" Dylan said in confusion.

Ariane laid a gentle finger across his lips. "Shh. We must wait and bide our time, wait and see where the chips will fall. I will not make the same mistake I did last time, of choosing the losing side. It may be that the Dark Lord is our path to power...but we will wait and see."

"Yes, Mother," Dylan said unhappily.

Ariane knew he wanted clear black-and-white, yes-or-no answers; he had expected her to tell him which path he should follow, but Ariane had no answers for him right now. Once again, he was learning a harsh lesson at an early age. She bitterly mourned the fact that he had never been able to enjoy a true childhood.

"Mother?" Dylan asked. "Do you think Professor Snape is still a Death Eater? Sometimes it seems like he's trying to steer me away from the Death Eaters, but I don't know if he really means it, if he's just being cautious because he's afraid I might tell other people that he's a Death Eater, or if he's just testing me somehow."

"I don't know," Ariane said slowly. "Perhaps he thinks you're too young to make such a choice right now. Or perhaps he doesn't really know either; he might be waiting, like us, to see if the Dark Lord will prevail or not." She stared at her son, wondering if the path Snape chose might influence Dylan's own decision; the thought was somewhat disturbing.

***

A few days later, the entire Donner family sat down to dinner together. Ariane's mother and brothers had decided to grace the table with their presence; no doubt Deirdre Donner wanted to check up on her grandson after his return from Hogwarts, probably checking for signs that he was on the path to becoming a Death Eater.

"Dylan has done well at school," Mathias was saying to his sister in a pleasant, casual tone of voice, as if they had not bitterly argued over whether or not Dylan should be allowed to attend Hogwarts. "He received the highest marks of all the students of his year."

Deirdre just stared at Dylan, a cold look on her face. She was still a handsome woman, with silver-blonde hair like her daughter, although it was now much more silver than blonde. But there was no kindness, no mercy, no compassion in her face; it might as well have been carved from a block of white marble--beautiful, perfect, and utterly lacking any human warmth. "It's not his intelligence I'm worried about," she said in a voice as cold as the expression on her face, "but rather, his character."

"His Head of House, Professor Snape, says that his behavior has been impeccable," Ariane said to her mother in an equally cold voice. "His letter says that Dylan has been a model student. He even commended Dylan for volunteering for extra work during his free time, helping to brew healing potions for the Triwizard Tournament."

Deirdre sniffed disdainfully. "As if I would trust the word of a former Death Eater!"

"Professor Snape never stood trial!" Dylan said, jumping to his teacher's defense. "He's a respected member of the staff, and the Headmaster trusts him, so you have no right to talk about him that way!"

"Watch your tone, boy!" Gwydion Donner, Ariane's older brother snapped. He was a handsome man, with shoulder-length blond hair and an elegant goatee. He could be quite charming when he wanted to be, but right now he was staring at Dylan with a look of arrogance and contempt. "You exist on charity; the house you live in, the clothes you wear, every bite you eat comes to you because of Lady Deirdre, and don't you forget it! She could cast you out on the street at any time, you worthless whelp of a Death Eater!"

Ariane's eyes blazed with rage, but before either she or Dylan could reply, Mathias's wife Goewin said coolly, "Actually, Gwydion, that is not true. The house and the land it stands on belong to Mathias, or rather to me, since he signed it over to me in our marriage contract."

Gwydion's mouth dropped open. It was an open secret among the family that he and his brother had "dishonored" Goewin when she was a girl, and Mathias had made up for their crime by marrying her and bestowing upon her all his lands and wealth. Goewin had never made an issue of it before, and Mathias had continued to run the estate as he had in the past, but technically, it all belonged to his wife. Gwydion's twin Gilbert squirmed nervously in his seat; their uncle had punished them by literally turning them into beasts and forcing them to live as animals in the woods for three years. Gwydion had recovered his sanity upon resuming human form, but Gilbert had never been quite right in the head since. He had become simple-minded; he often giggled at things that weren't there, and like a small child was easily distracted from what he was saying or doing by the smallest things--a sunbeam falling through the window, or a butterfly flitting in the garden. And he was always very, very nervous around Mathias and Goewin.

"In fact," Goewin added with a smile, clearly enjoying herself, "since Math and I have no children, nor are likely to, I have decided to make Dylan my heir."

"WHAT?!" screeched Gwydion, and Deirdre's face went even more cold and rigid, which meant that she was furious. Gilbert looked nervously at his brother and mother, and began to whimper softly.

Ariane was just as shocked as her brother. She knew that Goewin was fond of Dylan and had always treated him kindly, for which she was grateful, but she had never in her wildest dreams imagined that her young "aunt" would do such a thing.

Deirdre's face remained cold, but inwardly she was raging. The Donner title and lands were passed down matrilineally, unlike most of the wizarding families, except perhaps the Blackmores. There had been a few Blackmore Lords, but mostly they had borne girls, who always kept the Blackmore name even after they married. But the Blackmores were all dead now, and good riddance; they were Dark Wizards all of them, whether they were Slytherins or not. She had been furious when her childhood friend Fiona Byrne had married Meredith Blackmore; Fiona had claimed he was a good and kind man despite his name and his House (Slytherin, of course), but he must have been entangled in something nasty because he and his wife had been killed under mysterious circumstances. And their daughter Branwen had been an arrogant bitch; she remembered how the young teacher had argued with her over her decision to disown Ariane, how she had looked at Deirdre with cold, disapproving eyes--how dare the impertinent little wench judge her? Deirdre had not been sorry when she heard Branwen had died, under even stranger and darker circumstances than her father.

But Deirdre was getting caught up in the past...she forcibly wrenched her mind back to the present. Ariane had been her heir, as the only daughter, but after Deirdre disowned her, Gwydion became her heir. She was content with that; secretly he had always been her favorite anyway, and as long as he someday had a daughter, the Donner title would pass back into the female line. For now, Deirdre controlled most of the Donner lands and wealth, but her brother Mathias had his own estate, given to him by their indulgent mother. Math had been a confirmed bachelor, and even after he married Goewin, no children resulted from that marriage. He was probably too old to sire any by now--if he shared Goewin's bed at all; Deirdre wasn't convinced that they were husband and wife in anything more than name. And since Math had no children, she had assumed that Gwydion would eventually inherit his lands. It came as a bitter shock to her--and to Gwydion as well, judging by his reaction--that he would not.

"The boy isn't even a Donner!" Deirdre said in an icy voice. It had been another bone of contention between her daughter and herself, that Ariane had insisted that her son bear his father's surname. Perhaps in time she could have accepted Dylan into the family if he had been given the Donner name and been raised as a Donner, if he could have been raised to forget his father's heritage...

Goewin said defiantly, "Even if he bears his father's name, your blood still flows through his veins, Deirdre. He is family; he is blood of your blood, flesh of your flesh."

"Tainted blood!" spat Deirdre. "And Ariane is no daughter of mine, so her son is no kin to me, either!"

"Tainted blood!" Gilbert giggled maliciously.

Dylan looked hurt and furious, and when she saw his face, Goewin grew even more angry. "Well, he is kin to me and Math! I love Dylan like a son, and I have declared that he will be my heir! There is nothing you can do about it--the papers have already been drawn up and signed! Accio!" She pulled out her wand and a roll of parchment flew into her hand. She handed it to Deirdre, who unrolled it and read it, her cold expression finally giving way to open rage. She looked as if she wanted to rip it in half, but Goewin just laughed.

"Go ahead and rip it up, Deirdre," she taunted. "I have already filed a copy with the Ministry, and it is now an official court document!"

"How can you permit this, Math?!" Deirdre shouted, waving the parchment at him.

"I'm quite in favor of it, Sister," he said quietly. "Goewin has the right to do whatever she likes, of course, since the lands belong to her, but she did ask for and receive my blessing. It is long past time you let go of your grudge, Deirdre; Dylan is not to blame for his father's crimes. But since I fear you cannot, or will not, let go your grudge, we wanted to be sure that Ariane and Dylan will be provided for should anything happen to us."

"You did this on purpose!" Gwydion shouted furiously. "You did this to get back at me!"

Goewin gave him a smile of bitter satisfaction. "You have no one but yourself to blame, 'nephew,'" she sneered. "If you had not helped your brother to rape me, then Math would never have married me, and the estate would not be mine to give away."

"We agreed never to speak of this again!" screamed Deirdre, and Gilbert began whimpering again, hugging himself and rocking back and forth in his chair. Dylan's eyes went wide with shock, then he glared at his two uncles with a look of pure hatred.

"And please note, that in the will, I have stated that even if Math and I should have children, Dylan will still be an equal co-heir along with them. Though you had better hope that we do not, Gwydion--for if I bear a girl, then she will be heir to the entire Donner estate, not you." Gwydion and Deirdre stared at Goewin in shock and horror, and she smiled sweetly at them.

"You plotted this from the beginning!" Gwydion accused. "You wanted our wealth, so you led Gilbert on, you sl--"

"SILENCE!" roared Math, rising to his feet and leveling his wand at Gwydion. "You will speak to my wife with respect when you sit at our table," he said coldly. "And do not blame an innocent girl for the crimes you and your brother committed; it is only through her compassion that the two of you did not go to prison for them."

"It wasn't compassion that motivated her," Gwydion hissed. "Her precious maidenly honor would have been besmirched if word got out."

"Mostly I took pity on Math," Goewin said quietly. "Because he loved you, I agreed to let him punish you privately so your lives would not be ruined. But yes, I was also afraid of what people might say. But I am no longer a naive teenage girl, Gwydion, and I am not ashamed, for I know I did nothing wrong. And I no longer care about my reputation--so you will make no trouble for Dylan; you will not oppose my choice of heir, or I will tell the entire wizarding world what you have done, tell them what brute animals you and your brother are!" Gwydion sat there, turning red and seething. "I think you are even worse than Gilbert," Goewin continued. "Even though you were not the one who actually raped me. Because you put the idea into his head, and you planned it, though you were always the wiser of the two and should have known better. You are an intelligent and gifted wizard, Gwydion, but you have no conscience and no compassion."

"Since I cannot insult your wife at your table," Gwydion said through clenched teeth, "I will leave that table, Uncle." He pushed back his chair, stood up, and Apparated out of the house without another word.

Deirdre also stood up, taking Gilbert by the arm and pulling him from his seat as well. "I will not forget this, Brother," she said coldly. "That you chose tainted blood over your true kin." Then she and Gilbert vanished as well.

Dylan sat at the table, trembling slightly, and Goewin smiled at him sadly. "I'm sorry, Dylan," she said softly. "I meant for it to be a happy occasion when I told you. But I let Gwydion get to me, and I lost my temper and threw it in his face. I'm sorry."

"You really mean it?" he asked softly. "You've made me your heir? Even if you have children of your own?"

"Yes, Dylan," Goewin said, leaning across the table to kiss him tenderly on the forehead. "You are my nephew. I love you, and I want to see that you and your mother are provided for. So never again let anyone speak to you of charity, and never again feel that you are in exile here, Dylan, for now this estate is truly your home."

Dylan began to weep, and Ariane pulled him close and held him as if he were a little boy again. "Thank you, Goewin," she said softly. She and Goewin had never liked each other much when they were younger. Goewin had thought Ariane was stuck-up and arrogant, and Ariane had thought Goewin was a prissy little goody-two-shoes. And then, when she had accused Ariane's brothers of rape, Ariane had not wanted to believe it, and had blamed Goewin. But deep down, she knew Uncle Math would never have punished them if it had not been true. And after Evan had died, and she had been sent into exile on Math's country estate, Goewin had not taunted or gloated at her, but had treated her with kindness. And both she and Math had loved Dylan and been kind to him as well, and for that alone Ariane would have been grateful. Somehow, over the years, they had reached an understanding of sorts, but she was truly touched now by Goewin's generosity. And greatly relieved, for now, even if Dylan didn't join Voldemort, he would have an inheritance, a position and place of his own. It might not be as grand, but perhaps it would be safer...

"You and Dylan are family, Ariane," Goewin said quietly. "We love you both."

Math smiled and walked around to the other side of the table, kissing both his niece and his great-nephew on the tops of their heads. "Enough tears now," he said gently. "Let's finish dinner."

Dylan wiped his eyes on his sleeve but did not pick up his fork. He was staring at his beautiful young great-aunt. "Did my uncles...did they really...?" He couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"Yes," Goewin answered quietly. "I had intended to spare you the details since I thought it was all in the past, but I suppose you have a right to know the truth now. I left Hogwarts at an early age to study with your Uncle Math because I have--or rather, had--a very rare form of Divination magic. I was what is called an Oracle; I had the power to see into the future, but this power is linked to, well, virginity. My Sight would last only so long as I remained chaste. It was not a great burden for me, for I was a scholarly sort, and not the type who giggled about boys and worried about my looks. And anyway, there was more at stake than my physical desires--Voldemort was on the rise, and Math hoped my powers might help them defeat the Dark Lord. But Gilbert became infatuated with me, tried to lure me into his bed, and when I refused, he even proposed marriage to me. But I told him the work I was doing with Math was too important; I'm afraid I was a bit abrupt with him--I told him it was selfish of him to put his personal feelings ahead of our duties as wizards. Gilbert was hurt and despondent, and Gwydion, who was always overprotective of his siblings, was furious. He told Gilbert that he would see to it that his desires were satisfied whether I willed it or not. He arranged to lure Math away from the house on a pretext, then disarmed and bound me magically--he was a stronger mage than I, at least in the combative magics. He stood guard outside my room while Gilbert raped me; all the house-elves and human servants were too afraid of him to interfere." Goewin smiled bitterly. "Gilbert did not find the experience as satisfying as he thought it would be; I screamed and fought the entire time even though I knew it was futile. But I would never let it be said that I willingly gave up my power and my virtue to him; I screamed loud enough for the entire house to hear. Gwydion told me if I knew what was good for me, I would keep my mouth shut and tell no one what had happened, that I would be useless to Math without my Sight, and no man of rank would marry a despoiled maiden. 'Don't you think Math will notice that I can no longer See?' I asked him. He just laughed and said, 'Surely you can make up a few visions; fortune-tellers do it all the time.' I was so angry; not just because of the rape, but because he would have had me feed false information to those fighting the war against Voldemort, risking their lives and possibly the outcome of the war itself.

"So when Math came home, I told him what they had done, and the servants testified on my behalf. Deirdre, who always spoiled her children, begged me to not bring charges against them, offered me money and property to keep quiet. Math insisted they must be punished for their crimes, but he was worried that my reputation would be sullied; Gwydion was probably right when he said people would see me as defiled, unfair though that might be. So Math punished his nephews privately. He told them that since they had behaved no better than brute animals, that was how they would live for the next three years. He transfigured them into beasts--deer for the first year, wild pigs for the second, and wolves for the third. And he married me, and signed over all his lands and wealth to me, although I told him that was not necessary."

Math sighed wearily. "I hoped they would learn humility and compassion once they knew what it was like to be helpless, to be at the mercy of predators and the elements. I hoped they would learn to think and to value their humanity, once they had been subject to mindless, overpowering instincts of beasts. But Gilbert's mind was damaged by the experience, and it seems Gwydion has learned nothing."

Dylan was furious; he adored Goewin, who was one of the few people who had shown him any kindness and affection while he was growing up. He clenched his fists and shouted, "Three years as beasts is not enough! I'll kill them for what they did to you!"

"No!" shouted Goewin, before Math or Ariane had time to react. "They are not worth it, Dylan! I would not have you stain your hands with blood and become a murderer for their sake; they are small-minded, petty men, and they are not worth it." She reached across the table to cradle his face in her hands. "You are the one who is important; you are the one who matters to me. Do not throw your life away for them."

"Goewin is right, my son," Ariane murmured.

"But--" Dylan protested.

Goewin smiled. "I am not afraid of them any longer, Dylan. Rather, I would say they are afraid of me! And I am happy, Dylan. I know the servants gossip and pity the young woman tied to an elderly husband, but I love your Uncle Math. I always have, since I first became his apprentice, though I viewed him more as a father figure than a potential husband. But I regret nothing; I value Math's wisdom and kindness far more than any callow youth, however handsome he might be. Your uncles taught me that a pretty face means nothing; true beauty comes from within. And Math has a truly beautiful soul."

The old wizard chuckled. "You make me blush, wife!" he said, and he and Goewin laughed, gazing fondly at each other, and Dylan began to relax a little. "Do not worry about Gwydion and Gilbert," Math said to his great-nephew in a more serious tone. "They know I will not be so merciful a second time if they try to harm Goewin, or you and your mother." His expression suddenly turned fierce and implacable, and Dylan could well believe that he had fought in the war against Voldemort. Then Math sighed, looking more weary than angry. "I will ban them from the estate from now on; you will no longer have to listen to their insults, Dylan. I know they have treated you badly, and I should not have let it go on for so long, but I had still hoped for a reconciliation; I hoped with time they might relent and accept you and your mother back into the family."

"That will never happen," Ariane said.

"I fear that is true, my dear, though it breaks my heart," Math said sadly.

"I don't care," Dylan said. "You and Mother and Aunt Goewin are all the family I need!" It was true; he felt even happier now than the day he had been admitted to Hogwarts. He was truly part of a family now, and not just a charity case to be pitied.

The three adults smiled at him, and dinner resumed, with talk turning towards lighter subjects, and for a time, Ariane and Dylan were able to forget about the Dark Lord and the choices they would have to make.

***

Harry heard noises, and quietly picked up his wand and headed downstairs, expecting to confront burglars, but instead found his house full of witches and wizards. "Professor Moody?" he asked uncertainly, recognizing one figure. But having spent nearly an entire school year being taught by an impostor Moody, he wasn't sure what to believe.

"I don't know so much about 'Professor,'" Moody growled. "Never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly."

"It's all right, Harry," said another familiar voice. "We've come to take you away."

Harry's heart leapt. "P-Professor Lupin? Is that you?"

"Why are we standing in the dark?" asked a woman's voice. "Lumos."

Light filled the room, and Harry could see that it was indeed Lupin. He looked tired, and his robes were shabbier than ever, but he didn't look as ill and gaunt as he often had during the year he had taught at Hogwarts. He smiled broadly at Harry, who tried to smile back through his shock.

"Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would," said the witch who was holding her lit wand aloft; she was young and pretty, and had short, spiky violet hair. "Wotcher Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus!" said a bald black wizard who wore a gold hoop in one ear. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," wheezed a silver-haired wizard. "Lily's eyes."

"Oh, shut up!" said a woman in a cold, commanding tone of voice. She was very beautiful, with waist-length black hair, ivory skin, and piercing green eyes. She wore green robes, and a huge raven was perched on her shoulder. She looked to be fairly young, somewhere in her late twenties or very early thirties, but there was an intimidating air about her, and the other witches and wizards fell silent as she looked around the room with a steely gaze in her eyes. That gaze was remarkably similar to the one Professor Snape used to quell unruly students.

"It's rude to talk about Mr. Potter as if he weren't even here," she said sternly, and her comrades looked a little ashamed, except for Moody, who looked impatient, and Lupin, who looked amused. "He is a person, not a story in the Daily Prophet!" Her expression softened as she turned to Harry and gave him a kindly smile. "Hello, Mr. Potter. I am Branwen Blackmore, and this is my familiar, Bane." The raven cawed in greeting. She would have continued introducing the other wizards, but Moody interrupted her, demanding proof that Harry was really himself, and not some Death Eater in disguise.

"Harry, what form does your Patronus take?" Lupin asked.

"A stag," Harry said nervously.

"That's him, Mad-Eye," said Lupin, and Moody seemed satisfied with that. Lupin finished introducing Harry to the other witches and wizards, and explained that they were taking him to a safe place--he couldn't say where, because Moody claimed it "wasn't safe" to discuss it here. But Harry figured anywhere had to be better than Privet Drive.

They took Harry to an old, derelict mansion that looked as if it belonged to the Darkest of wizards. Mrs. Weasley was there to greet him, but neither she nor any of the other adults bothered to explain anything to him; they were apparently in a big rush to get to some important meeting. He was overjoyed to see his friends Ron and Hermione, but furious with them at the same time for not writing to him and telling him what was going on. They tried to explain that Dumbledore had forbade them to contact him, but all Harry's pent up resentment and frustration came pouring out, and he found himself screaming angrily at his two best friends until Hermione was close to tears. He knew he wasn't really being fair to them, but he just couldn't seem to help himself. Finally he calmed down long enough for them to explain about the Order of the Phoenix. Despite his anger, Harry was intrigued--especially when he found out that Snape was a member of the Order, and was in fact here right now giving a "top secret" report.

Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley children peered out over the bannister from the second-story landing, and saw the hallway below packed with witches and wizards whispering excitedly together. In the center of the group was Harry's least favorite teacher, greasy-haired Professor Snape. Fred and George started to lower an Extendable Ear, hoping to catch some of the conversation, but the crowd seemed to be dispersing. Bane looked up at them from his perch on Blackmore's shoulder and cawed. Fred hastily reeled up the Ear as the witch turned her steely green gaze in their direction. Her eyes lingered on the children for a moment, her expression unreadable, and then she looked away.

"Will you stay for dinner, Severus?" Lupin was asking Professor Snape, to Harry's horror. Harry wondered why Lupin sounded so hopeful, as if he wanted Snape to say "yes"; after all, Snape was the one who had forced Lupin to resign his position at Hogwarts.

Snape hesitated, then his eyes flickered towards the children, who hastily backed out of sight. "No," he said curtly. "I'm afraid I have business to attend to." The children cautiously emerged and peered back down from the bannister again.

Lupin looked oddly disappointed, and Blackmore looked both amused and annoyed at the same time. "Don't be a stranger, Severus," she said. "I look forward to catching up with my old students."

Snape shot her a look that was resentful and and slightly cowed at the same time. Strange; Harry had never seen Snape intimidated by anyone, except perhaps Moody (though of course that hadn't been the real Moody, but an impostor). "Another time, Professor," he said, a little stiffly.

Blackmore smiled and said, "It's no longer Professor, Severus, but Branwen."

Snape looked extremely uncomfortable, and said, "Another time, then, Branwen," and turned and walked down the hallway, out of Harry's sight. He heard the front door open and then close.

Ron sighed in relief. "Snape hardly ever eats here. Thank God! C'mon."

"What's going on?" Harry asked. "Who's this Branwen Blackmore and why'd Snape call her 'Professor'? She's way too young to have been his teacher--"

"It's sort of confusing," Hermione said. "I'm not sure I understand it myself. But we've got to go to dinner now; maybe Professor Lupin can explain it to you later..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Make sure you keep your voice down in the hall."

Harry was about to protest that he didn't want to wait till later for an explanation, but was interrupted by a loud CRASH--Tonks had tripped over an umbrella stand. Moth-eaten velvet curtains on the wall flew apart, revealing a portrait of an old woman in a black cap, who started screaming, causing all the other portraits in the hall to scream as well.

"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers--"

"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" roared a man with long black hair, hauling on the curtain and trying to draw it closed.

It was Sirius Black. Harry's mouth dropped open.

Sirius and Lupin managed to force the curtains closed while Sirius and the woman in the portrait continued to scream insults at each other the entire time. Once the curtains closed, the screams died down into silence.

"Hello, Harry," said Sirius grimly. "I see you've met my mother."

***

Harry learned that the house they were staying in, the house the Order was using as their Headquarters, belonged to Sirius. He was happy to see his godfather again, although Sirius seemed restless and unhappy about being cooped up in the house; as a fugitive, he could not leave without risking being caught by the Ministry. After dinner, Mrs. Weasley and Sirius started arguing over whether Harry should be told about the Order or not. Lupin watched Sirius with a strange look in his eyes, then finally intervened, saying Harry should be told the facts--or at least some of them. Mrs. Weasley was not happy, but gave in, and the adults began explaining about the Order, and the need to keep it secret because of Cornelius Fudge's attempts to discredit Dumbledore. Although most people refused to believe that Voldemort had returned, the Order had managed to recruit some members, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, the black wizard with the earring, and Tonks, the young witch with the spiky hair.

"And of course, Branwen," Sirius added. "Well, she was actually a member the first time around..."

Harry stared at the beautiful young witch, who had remained quiet during dinner and the argument between Sirius and Mrs. Weasley. She was feeding scraps left over from dinner to her raven as her eyes flickered back and forth between Sirius and Harry. Her green eyes were expressionless as glass, though, and Harry had no idea what she was thinking.

"Er...excuse me...Miss...um...Ms. Blackmore," Harry said hesitantly.

Blackmore smiled at him slightly and said, "You may call me Branwen, Harry." Then seeing the doubtful look on his face--he was having trouble imagining himself calling that intimidating woman by her first name, she added, "Or if you are not comfortable with that, you may call me Professor Blackmore, although technically I am no longer a teacher. But Severus, Remus, and Sirius still tend to address me by my old title, so you may as well, too."

That seemed like a perfect opening. "You were a teacher?" Harry asked. "At Hogwarts?"

"Yes," she said calmly, feeding Bane another tidbit. "I taught Sirius and the others. Your father, too, actually."

"B-b-but," Harry stammered, "you're too young to have taught Sirius!"

Mrs. Weasley was glaring at Blackmore. "I think this falls under the category of things Harry doesn't need to know, Branwen!"

"Eventually he's going to hear talk about the old days, Molly," Blackmore said patiently. "And he's going to hear that Branwen Blackmore was supposedly killed by Death Eaters fourteen years ago."

"I don't understand," Harry said helplessly.

Blackmore turned to look at him, her expression grave. "I taught at Hogwarts for several years, until your father's class graduated, Harry. Then I gave up my position and became an Auror, because the Ministry desperately needed people to fight against Voldemort. I captured many Death Eaters, and had to kill a few, and the Dark Lord came to see me as a threat. He sent three Death Eaters to my house to kill me, and they nearly succeeded. But I was able to summon help." She slightly stressed the word "summon."

"I don't understand," Harry said again.

"That's right," Blackmore said. "I almost forgot. Hogwarts no longer teaches Incantations and Summonings. My specialty of magic is Summonings, Harry. I can summon certain creatures and spirits, such as elementals, to aid me and do my bidding."

"Branwen!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, looking very upset.

Blackmore and Lupin exchanged significant looks. She turned back to Harry and said, "I summoned an ally to help me, who killed the Death Eaters and took me back to his realm to heal. But time passes differently in the...er...spirit realm than it does in our world, so when I returned, fourteen years had passed in this world, but I had not aged."

"Spirit realm?" Harry said in a puzzled tone. "I still don't understand. And how come Hogwarts doesn't teach Summonings anymore?"

Lupin and Blackmore exchanged another look. "A Summonings spell can be used to summon creatures of the Dark as well as of the Light," Lupin said quietly. "After Prof--I mean, Branwen--disappeared, the school governors removed it from the curriculum because they believed it was a form of the Dark Arts, or could be used as such."

"The spells themselves are neither good nor evil," Blackmore told Harry and the other children, who were staring at her wide-eyed. "They are merely a tool that can be used for good or for ill. Like a knife, for instance--a scalpel can be used by a surgeon to save a life, while the same instrument in the wrong hands could be used as a weapon to take a life."

"Can you teach us Summonings spells?" George asked eagerly.

"NO!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. George and Fred looked crestfallen.

"In any case," Blackmore said, "I am back, and now a member of the Order. But Dumbledore doesn't want Voldemort to know that I'm alive, so I'm laying low and staying undercover."

"So how come YOU get to leave the house?" Sirius muttered under his breath.

"I don't often leave the house," Blackmore explained to Harry, pointedly ignoring Sirius. "But occasionally I do go out on errands for the Headmaster. Since I have been presumed dead for fourteen years, no one is actively looking for me, as they would, for say, a wanted criminal with a price on his head. A slight glamor to disguise my features is all that's required. Even if someone saw me undisguised, they would probably think I just bore a startling resemblance to Branwen Blackmore, but they wouldn't think it was me. I am dead, after all," she said in a dry voice. "And if I were alive, I should be in my forties, so I am clearly too young to be myself."

Sirius didn't care to challenge that, and the conversation turned back to what Voldemort was doing.

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asked.

Sirius and Lupin exchanged a fleeting look. "Stuff he can only get by stealth," Sirius said. "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

"When he was powerful before?"

"Yes."

"Like what kind of weapon? Something worse than the Avada Kedavra--?"

"That's enough," said Mrs. Weasley, looking furious. Harry and Fred began to protest, but she remained adamant.

"I think Molly's right, Sirius," Lupin said quietly. "We've said enough." Blackmore nodded in agreement, and Sirius shrugged but did not argue. Recognizing defeat, Harry and the other children rose from their seats and headed off to bed.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

***

Afterword: As I mentioned in the afterword of Part 1 of "For Old Time's Sake," the Donner family was based on the tale of Math ap Mathonwy in the Mabinogion. In the original tale, Math did indeed punish his nephews by turning them into beasts as punishment for Goewin's rape: they spent one year each in the form of deer, pigs, and wolves. However, the original story had a much more interesting and slightly kinky twist: Math turned one brother into a male animal and the other into a female, and each year they apparently mated and returned home with a baby deer, pig, and wolf! Math transformed their offspring into human form, and accepted the boys into the family (they were all sons, if I recall correctly). However, keeping this part of the story would have complicated my fic too much, when I wanted to keep the focus on Dylan, so I didn't include it in my version. But I did find it amusing that mpreg (of a sort) existed centuries before Harry Potter fandom ever existed! ^_^