FIC: Phoenix Rising, Part 11 of 37

[geri_chan]

Title: Phoenix Rising, Part 11 of 37
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~7,620
Warning: AU; my own version of Year 6 (was written pre-HBP).
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always (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), Phoenix Reborn (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)
Summary: Draco vents his frustrations on his housemates, and Lupin tells his class a legend about the origin of werewolves.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

***

"We'll be up all night doing all this homework!" Ron groaned.

Harry and Hermione ignored Ron's complaints, which were so familiar by now that they could almost automatically tune them out. "That's the first time I've ever really noticed Blaise Zabini in class," Harry said. "Snape actually praised him!"

"Yes, and Snape rarely praises anyone, even the Slytherins, except for Malfoy," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Blaise is a pretty good student; he's ranked in the top twenty-five percent of our age group for the last four years--"

"Do you have everyone's rank memorized, Hermione?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, and you aren't in the top quarter, Ron," she retorted. "Anyway, as I was saying, Blaise is a good student, but he's never really been outstanding in Potions before--"

"Dylan has been helping him," Lisa Turpin said quietly, as she came up alongside them. Harry and the others turned to give her a startled look. "Everyone knows that Dylan is Snape's best Potions student even though he's a year younger than us, and Blaise is his friend, so he helped Blaise study and pass his Potions O.W.L. last year."

"Well, you're awfully friendly with the Slytherins," Ron said, sneering a little.

"There's nothing wrong with that!" Lisa snapped, glaring at him. "Didn't you hear what the Sorting Hat said, about the Houses having to get along together? Do you think it would have changed its song if it wasn't important? Besides, Dylan's a nice person, and so is Blaise! Not all of the Slytherins are like Draco Malfoy!"

"That's right!" Padma chimed in as she joined the little group gathered in the hall.

"You're forgetting Dylan is Draco's buddy!" Ron said, giving the two Ravenclaw girls a disgusted look. "You're letting yourself be blinded by his pretty face!"

"Maybe you're just jealous, Ron Weasley," Padma said with a disdainful little sniff, "that Dylan is a hundred times more handsome and charming than you'll ever be!" She glared at him, perhaps recalling how Ron had ignored her at the Yule Ball two years ago. "Dylan is a gentleman who knows how to treat a lady--unlike you!"

Padma and Lisa stalked off in a huff, while Ron spluttered and called after them, "Women! You're so fickle! Whatever happened to that Beauxbatons boy you were so crazy about, Padma? Forgot about him as soon as someone new came along, huh?"

The girls ignored him, and Michael Corner and Terry Boot chuckled. "It does gets a little old, hearing all the time about how wonderful Dylan Rosier is," Michael said good-naturedly, "but he seems okay, for a Slytherin."

"Easy for you to say," Terry laughed, "when you don't have to compete with Dylan for the attention of all the eligible girls in school! You've already got Cho--" He hastily broke off his sentence when he saw Ron glaring at him.

"Listen, Potter," Michael said nervously, "I hope there's no hard feelings--"

"No hard feelings," Harry said firmly, ignoring Ron's look of outrage. "It was already over between Cho and me; I...I hope you guys are happy together." He was surprised to find that he meant it. He held out his hand, and Michael shook it, looking relieved, while Ron gawped at them.

"I'm really proud of you Harry," Hermione said as they continued on their way to their next class.

Harry grinned, feeling surprisingly lighthearted despite all the homework they had received and the misgivings he'd had about Lupin's treatment of the Slytherins. "It's no big deal; I'm totally over Cho."

"Really?" Ron asked.

"Really," Harry replied.

"Then you're an eligible man again!" Ron said, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders. "With plenty of eligible ladies to choose from!" Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, and Harry laughed.

***

There was a knock at Snape's office door. "Come in," he said, looking up from the parchment on which he was scribbling notes for a future lesson.

"Professor?" Draco Malfoy asked. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes, but make it quick." Snape glanced at the hourglass sitting on his desk. "It's almost time for dinner." And as soon as dinner was over, he could meet Lupin in his quarters...

"Yes, sir," Draco replied. "Professor Lupin did something odd today..." He explained how Lupin had defended him against Potter and Weasley, and had even taken points off Gryffindor. "What do you think it means, sir?"

Snape frowned, absent-mindedly tapping his quill against the parchment, dotting it with spots of black ink. What was Lupin up to? Did he really think he could get through to Draco Malfoy? {I thought he was going to leave that up to me,} Snape thought. Well, Lupin was a soft touch; he might feel sorry even for a boy as unpleasant as Malfoy, but still, Snape was surprised that he would take points off not only from his own House, but from his dear friend's son, the golden boy Potter. Besides, Lupin was so soft that Snape thought a student would have to burn down the classroom before the werewolf would take points from them; he usually let the brats off with a warning. But then again, they had both changed during the two years that had passed since Lupin had left Hogwarts...

Snape shrugged and said sarcastically, "It's not as if I can claim to know how a werewolf's mind works, Malfoy," and Draco flushed. "But Lupin has always been a bit of a bleeding heart; his concern was probably genuine."

"I don't need a werewolf feeling sorry for me," Draco said sullenly.

"Of course not," Snape replied coolly. "But remember what I said about keeping up a respectable appearance--it won't hurt to humor the werewolf a bit."

Draco looked indignant. "But--aren't you angry that he's back? Aren't you going to try to get rid of him?"

Snape gave Draco a sour look. "Everyone already knows that he's a werewolf; he doesn't have any other deep, dark secrets that I can expose." {Except that he's sleeping with the Potions Master,} Snape thought to himself with amusement. "Besides, werewolf or not, Lupin is softhearted and relatively harmless, unlike, say, Mad-Eye Moody..."

Draco's face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment as he remembered the bouncing ferret incident from fourth year. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"Run along then, Mr. Malfoy, and try to stay out of trouble."

Draco paused at the door and said, "Sir? Have you...heard anything about when my father--?"

"I told you never to question our Master's judgment," Snape said in a quiet, deadly voice, and Draco turned pale.

"Y-yes sir, I know, but it's been so long..."

Snape rose from his seat behind the desk and glided over to Draco. "The Dark Lord waited over a decade before he rose again," he whispered menacingly, as Draco cringed away from him. "He probably thinks it won't hurt your father to wait a few months." Snape's voice rose to a more normal level. "And don't you ever mention such things again unless I give you permission! What if someone had overheard you?!"

"Y-yes, sir," Draco stammered. "I'm sorry, sir."

"All things happen in their proper time, Draco," Snape said, taking a step back. "Tend to your studies, and let your elders tend to...that other matter we discussed. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Get out of here before you're late for dinner, Malfoy."

***

Draco stomped off to the Great Hall, feeling rather cranky. Nothing had gone right for him since his father had been captured. He had tried to do as Professor Snape had suggested, and step up to be the "man of the family," but although his mother had smiled and thanked him for his efforts with a kiss on the cheek, she still looked pale and tense most of the time. Narcissa Malfoy rarely left the house anymore, because she couldn't stand the knowing looks people gave her on the street, and the way that former "friends" and acquaintances who had always deferred to her before now shunned her. One night during the summer, she had Disapparated, wearing her Death Eater robe, and when she returned, her face was ghostly white and filled with fear. Draco had thought he'd seen a spot of blood on the sleeve of her robe, but she had locked herself in her room and refused to talk about it. Draco, his ear pressed up against the door, had heard her weeping, and felt helpless. He was relieved when he had to depart for school, although he also felt guilty for leaving his mother alone, but he thought perhaps she was relieved as well, to not have to keep up a brave face for him.

But he had returned to Hogwarts to find that some of his housemates were behaving insolently and ignoring his authority; the fools obviously thought that his father's imprisonment was going to be permanent--little did they know! But doubt gnawed at him; it had been more than three months now--when was the Dark Lord going to free his father? His concern was so great that it had caused him to ignore his common sense and go to Professor Snape--which had not done any good, and had earned him nothing but a scolding.

And Blaise Zabini had earned a rare compliment from Snape in Potions class today, which irritated Draco. He comforted himself with the fact that Snape had awarded him twice the points he'd awarded Blaise, but it was cold comfort, because something deep inside of him suspected that Snape only handed out praise and points to him because Lucius Malfoy was his superior in the Death Eaters. Zabini's family were old blood, but had fallen on hard times; they had no money and no influence, nor were they Death Eaters, so Snape's praise must have been genuine, and the Potions Master handed out sincere praise perhaps once in a blue moon. Draco hated being upstaged, particularly by someone like Blaise, who had been a nonentity up until now: he always sat quietly in the back of the classroom, never speaking unless called upon, and while he did well enough in class, he did not do so well as to attract special attention from his teachers, unlike, say, Dylan Rosier...

Thinking about Dylan made Draco grind his teeth in frustration. Although he had befriended the younger boy at his father's behest, and had actually liked him at first, he was growing increasingly jealous of Dylan's popularity. Oh, Dylan knew his place, and was always properly respectful and deferential to Draco, but even that was beginning to become annoying; he longed for an excuse to take Dylan down a peg or two, but Dylan was careful never to give it to him. Draco was getting sick of the way all the girls fawned over the boy; even the Gryffindor girls, who had always turned their noses up at the Slytherins, chased after him shamelessly. And worse, everyone knew that Dylan was Snape's pet; it was Dylan who earned most of those rare words of praise that the Potions Master doled out so sparingly. Fortunately, Dylan was not in Draco's class, so he didn't have to watch it, which was the only thing that made the situation tolerable, but still, it rankled. Draco was the son of Lucius Malfoy, who was first among the Death Eaters, so Draco should likewise be first in all things in Slytherin House.

That was why it was unforgivable that Dylan had been the first among the younger generation to be made a Death Eater. Draco still couldn't understand why Rosier had been singled out over him. Was he not Lucius Malfoy's son? Was he not versed in the Dark Arts? Yes, he still had a lot to learn, but so did Rosier, and Draco was a year older than him! What the hell was so special about Dylan Rosier?!

"Oh, Draco, there you are," Goyle said, as he and Crabbe fell into step beside Draco. "We were wondering were you went."

"Don't think too hard," Draco snarled, "or you'll probably sprain your brain!" Crabbe giggled nervously, while Goyle looked a little hurt. "And you had better not let me catch you sucking up to the werewolf again!" Draco added.

His two henchmen mumbled apologetically, and Draco's anger shifted from Dylan to Lupin, but his anger was tinged with confusion. Why on earth had Lupin helped him? Not that he needed the werewolf's sympathy! But Lupin was supposed to have been a friend of Potter's father, so why would he stand up to Potter and Weasley for Draco's sake? It just didn't make sense. Was Lupin really as softhearted as Snape seemed to think he was, or was he somehow subtly mocking Draco? But Lupin's anger with Potter and Weasley had seemed to be sincere...Draco kept hearing Lupin's quiet voice saying, "But to attack someone by attacking their loved ones is both cruel and cowardly." Draco flushed, feeling a little of ashamed of himself, although he wasn't exactly sure why. He had verbally attacked Weasley's and Potter's families many times; so what? Only softhearted fools felt guilt over things like that! Lupin had been absent from Hogwarts for two years, but he wasn't a complete fool; he must be aware of how Draco normally treated Potter and Weasley, even if he didn't know all the specifics. So, considering all that, why was Lupin still defending him? Was the werewolf soft in the head as well as the heart? {And why on earth am I worrying so much about what the werewolf thinks of me?} Draco asked himself in disgust, and tried to put those bothersome thoughts out of his head.

***

Draco was uncommonly testy at dinner that night. The other Slytherins were already seated at the dinner table when Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle arrived, and even though the trio's usual seats had been left vacant, Draco snapped at Dylan, "Get out of my seat, Rosier!"

Dylan looked up at him in surprise, and Damien said, "But isn't that your seat over there?"

"My seat is wherever I say it is, Pierce!" Draco snarled.

Dylan immediately got up and moved to one of the empty seats, saying humbly, "I'm sorry, Draco," but Draco only looked even more annoyed. Draco was not the only one in a bad mood; Snape looked more sour than usual, and kept making comments to Professor Lupin, who smiled back at him cheerily; the more Lupin smiled, the angrier Snape got. Finally Professor Blackmore snapped at him--they were too far away to hear her exact words, but it was obviously something along the lines of "Give it a rest!" Snape glared at her, but left off his taunting of Lupin and turned his attention back to his meal.

After dinner, Dylan, Damien, Blaise, and Theodore sat together in a corner of the Slytherin common room near the fireplace to work on their homework. A gaggle of giggling girls pretended to study nearby, but kept glancing over at Dylan, trying to catch his eye. He ignored them, but Damien winked at them, and they giggled again and looked away.

Dylan tapped Damien's textbook and said, "Pay attention, Romeo! Mother says Professor Blackmore is a tough teacher, and your grades weren't so hot last year."

"Slave driver," Damien grumbled, but obeyed, and began reading about air elementals while Dylan and Blaise began copying runes out of a library book.

"No, not like that," Dylan said. "There's more of an upward curve at the end--like this, see?"

"Yeah, I get it now," Blaise said. "You're really good at this, Dylan. I'm glad that Incantations is a new class, so we're all at the same level and have the same homework even though we're in different years."

Dylan smiled modestly. "Well, this was my mother's favorite class, so she taught me a lot about how to draw the runes and circles even though she never actually let me summon anything."

"Ssst!" Damien hissed to catch Dylan's attention, and let his eyes slide over to the other side of the fire, where Serafina Avery had settled down with a textbook and was diligently taking notes. "Think she's joined your fan club, Dylan?" he whispered. "She usually doesn't hang around near us."

Dylan watched the girl out of the corner of his eye. She was one of their yearmates, and was the daughter of the Death Eater Avery, who was currently residing in Azkaban with Lucius Malfoy. She was a thin, almost scrawny girl with mousy-brown hair, and there was nothing exceptional about her except for her eyes, which were a startling shade of blue-violet. She didn't fawn on Draco or hang out with the other Death Eater offspring; in fact, she didn't seem to have any friends at all, and if that bothered her, she never gave any sign of it.

Dylan shrugged. "I doubt it. She's never flirted with me; I don't think she's ever even spoken to me. Anyway, she's not really my type."

"So who is your type?" Damien asked with a suggestive grin.

Dylan just laughed. "I told you, I'm too young to settle down! And you won't graduate if you spend more time staring at girls than studying!"

"Yes, Professor Rosier," Damien said, pretending to be chastened.

"Uh oh," Theodore said, looking up from his book nervously. "Malfoy's heading this way, and he's been pissed off all day." Theodore catered to Draco nearly as much as Crabbe and Goyle did, but he seemed to do it more out of self-preservation than any real liking for Malfoy, and preferred to spend his free time with Dylan's crowd.

"You had better not ever try to show me up in Potions class again, understand, Zabini?" Draco snapped.

"Sorry, Draco," Blaise said meekly. "I didn't mean to."

Dylan and Theodore exchanged quick looks; Theo had told his younger friends what had happened in Lupin's and Snape's classes, when they had asked why Draco was in such a bad mood.

Draco noticed that glance and snarled, "And what are you and Zabini doing hanging out with the fifth-years, Nott?"

"Dylan was just helping us with our homework," Theodore started to reply, then immediately realized he had made a mistake when Draco turned on Dylan.

"And you think you're such hot stuff, Rosier!" Draco shouted. "Think you're smart enough to be teaching older students? Maybe you should tell Dumbledore to go ahead and let you replace Snape, you're so good! Or maybe you could take over Defense Against the Dark Arts, then we can get rid of the werewolf!"

"It's not like that, Draco," Dylan protested in a soft voice, trying to look contrite. "It's just that my mother taught me a lot about Summonings spells, because she met my dad in that class--"

"Who's in charge of Slytherin House, Rosier, you or me?" Draco roared, grabbing the front of Dylan's robe.

"Whoa, take it easy, Draco!" Dylan exclaimed, beginning to get a little worried. Was he going to have to hex Draco in self-defense? That would be disastrous, even if it didn't get him expelled. "You are, of course!"

"Actually," a quiet voice said, "that would be Professor Snape."

Draco let go of Dylan, and turned to stare at Serafina Avery. "I wasn't talking to you, Avery!" he said in a dangerous voice.

She didn't look particularly frightened, and just stared back at him with that blank, emotionless look she always wore. "Fine," she said indifferently. "But if I were you, I wouldn't let Professor Snape catch me saying that."

"Well, you're not me!" Draco snapped, leaning down and placing his face close to hers in order to give her a menacing glare. "Don't forget that my father outranks yours!" he hissed.

Her beautiful violet eyes stared at him blankly. "Our fathers are both in prison," she said in a toneless voice. "So it doesn't matter much, does it?" Draco's mouth dropped open, and as the other students stared in astonishment, she calmly picked up her books and headed to the girls' dorm. Draco turned white with rage and stomped off to his own room.

"What the--?" Theodore gasped.

"She must have a thing for you, Dylan," Damien said, his eyes wide, "to stand up to Malfoy for you like that!"

Dylan shook his head in confusion. "She's never even looked twice at me. Theo, your family is friends with hers, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't really know her," Theo replied. "I mean, we saw each other at parties and stuff, but we never talked much. She never talked to anyone, really, would just sit around with her nose stuck in a book until her mother took it away and made her go and 'socialize.' Which meant that she just stood around with the rest of the kids not saying a word."

Dylan sighed wearily. "I'd better go make peace with Draco before things get worse."

"Is that safe?" Blaise asked, looking concerned.

"I'll just have to grovel a little to soothe his pride," Dylan said, making a face. "I don't think he's really mad at me; he's just on edge because his dad..." His voice trailed off, remembering that Theodore's dad was in prison as well. "Sorry, Theo."

Theo shrugged and mumbled, "It's not like I miss him; he can stay there for all I care."

There was an uneasy silence; none of his three friends knew much about his family other than that Mr. Nott was a Death Eater, and that Theo didn't seem to be very close to them. Dylan cleared his throat and said, "Well, I've got to go talk to Draco," and left for the boys' dorm as the other boys picked up their books and began studying again, in a much more subdued manner.

Draco was the only student in Slytherin--probably the whole school--who had a room to himself. Dylan knocked on the door and called, "Draco?"

"Go away, Rosier!" Draco snapped.

Dylan opened the door anyway, hoping that his apology would cancel out his disobedience, and entered the room. "Draco, I just wanted to apologize--" The other boy jumped up from his bed with a start and turned away, running his sleeve across his face. {Is Draco Malfoy...crying?} Dylan wondered disbelievingly.

"I told you to go away, Rosier!" Draco snarled, with his back still turned to Dylan.

Dylan quickly shut the door behind him before anyone walked by and saw them, which Draco would really find unforgivable. "I'm sorry, Draco, for stepping out of line earlier. I didn't mean to do it, honestly, and it won't happen again." Draco just grunted and made a dismissive gesture. "And..." Dylan hesitated, then said in a quieter voice, "I'm really sorry about your dad."

"What would you know about it?" Draco snarled as he spun around to face Dylan; his eyes were red.

"I lost my dad, too," Dylan reminded him in that quiet voice. "Permanently."

"Yeah, that's right," Draco said, suddenly sounding less angry.

"I never even got to meet him," Dylan said. "He was killed before I was born; all I have are my mother's pictures and stories of him. Professor Snape's told me a little about him, too. That's why I try so hard to make Snape like me; not because I want to take your place as leader of Slytherin, but so he'll talk to me about my dad. He only does it when he's in a good mood, and you know how often Snape is in a good mood..."

Draco actually laughed a little. "Well, you are pretty good in Potions," he conceded.

"So are you," Dylan said.

"Yeah, but maybe Snape only gives me good grades because of who my father is," Draco said unhappily.

Dylan tried to hide his surprise; it was unheard of for Draco to admit to a weakness or insecurity. "No, you really are good, Draco," he said firmly. "You've never melted your cauldron like Longbottom, have you? Or made a flagon explode, like Goyle?" Draco snickered, looking somewhat cheered, and Dylan continued, "Besides, you're at the top of all your other classes, and those teachers aren't Slytherins." It was not quite true; Hermione outranked Draco in at least half of those classes, but Draco was right behind her, and a little flattery never hurt.

"That's right," Draco said proudly, holding his head up high. He gave Dylan a companionable slap on the back and said, "You're all right, Rosier." Dylan smiled at him in relief; it seemed like things were back to normal again. "Say...Dylan?" Draco asked in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice.

"Yes?"

"Do you know anything about my dad?" he asked anxiously. "I mean, I know I shouldn't ask, but do you know when they're going to break him out?"

Draco looked oddly young and vulnerable, which made Dylan feel uncomfortable. Their friendship was one of convenience, and he had never really liked Draco, but Dylan found himself feeling sorry for the other boy now. He hated Lucius Malfoy, but he understood what Draco was going through. Dylan had the sudden, very disturbing thought that the families of the Mudbloods and Muggle-borns that Evan Rosier had killed probably didn't think too kindly of him, either. "I really don't know, Draco," Dylan replied softly. "I've only been to that one meeting."

"That's all?" Draco asked incredulously, but he seemed a little happier even though he still looked worried.

{Probably glad that he hasn't missed out on as much "fun" as he thought,} Dylan thought sourly. {I'd gladly trade places with him if I could!} Aloud, he said, "You know I'm not supposed to talk about it, Draco," he warned. "But I can't Apparate, so I can't go to meetings unless someone else takes me."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Draco said, comprehension dawning in his eyes. "So you really don't know?" he asked, disappointed.

"No," Dylan replied. "But I'm sure it will happen soon. Our Master needs his followers, after all. I'm sure he has some sort of plan, but I'm just not important enough to be entrusted with it." Dylan was just talking off the top of his head, but Draco seemed to find it reassuring, and it probably was true that the Dark Lord wouldn't trust him with anything important since Dylan had joined the Death Eaters under coercion.

"Will you tell me if you hear anything?" Draco pleaded.

Dylan hesitated. Snape would kill him if he gave away Death Eater secrets to Malfoy, and more importantly, the Dark Lord might hurt his mother; he had not forgotten Voldemort's threat that Ariane would suffer if Dylan needed to be punished. "If I can," he hedged. "Besides, I'm not likely to be part of the rescue team, so I might not hear about it till you do, anyway."

To Dylan's relief, Draco didn't argue with him. "Okay," he said. "Thanks, Dylan." As Dylan turned to leave, he added, "Oh, and my dad told me some stories about your dad and his friend Wilkes. I...I could tell you about them sometime, if you like."

"Sure, I'd like that," Dylan said, surprised at how agreeable Malfoy was being. "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Rosier."

Dylan returned to the common room thinking that Draco might not be so bad without his father giving him an inflated sense of self-importance all the time. He wondered when the Dark Lord would break out the prisoners, and what would happen after that. Thinking about that made him uneasy, and he began to wish that Voldemort would leave Lucius and the others in Azkaban, even if it meant he would have to put up with Draco's bad moods...

***

Snape went to his quarters after dinner, and a few minutes later, Lupin emerged from his fireplace. Snape, paranoid as only a former Death Eater could be, had set wards around the fireplace allowing only certain people to enter through it; Lupin, of course, was one of those people.

"Hello, Severus," Lupin said with a grin. "I brought you a gift." He held up a box of Honeyduke's fudge.

"Is that supposed to be a bribe, Lupin?" Snape asked, crossing his arms over his chest, pretending to be indignant. "To make me forgive you for the way you kept rubbing your foot against my leg under the table?"

"No, Sev," Lupin replied, still grinning. "I was thinking more of the aphrodisiacal qualities of chocolate; I brought these to put you in the mood."

"I've been in the mood for the last half-hour," Snape growled playfully, wrapping his arms around Lupin and pulling him close. "I don't need any chocolate for that!"

"Perhaps later, then," Lupin laughed. "To put you back in the mood for a second round...maybe even a third...?"

"First things first," Snape said, and sealed Lupin's mouth with a kiss.

Much later, they lay together in bed feeding each other chocolates. "So, Lupin," Snape said, "what are you up to with Draco Malfoy?"

"Up to?" Lupin asked innocently, holding out another piece of chocolate. Snape leaned over and took the piece of candy with his mouth, allowing his lips and tongue to brush against Lupin's fingers. Lupin shivered with pleasure. Snape grinned wickedly and Lupin shivered again.

Snape chewed and swallowed, then replied, "You know what I mean, Lupin. I heard from Malfoy about how you came to his rescue." He frowned slightly. "Are you trying to win over Draco? I thought you said Draco wasn't likely to listen to 'some impoverished Gryffindor werewolf'."

"I wasn't trying to step on your toes, Severus," Lupin said apologetically, but Snape shook his head.

"That's not what I meant, Lupin. If you can get through to Draco, more power to you. I'm just surprised that you took his part against Potter. I hear you even took points from Gryffindor?"

Lupin rolled his eyes impatiently. "Like I told the students, in the classroom I'm a teacher, not a Gryffindor! Just how long after we graduate are we supposed to carry on these silly House rivalries? What kind of teacher would I be if I played favorites?"

"One like me, I suppose," Snape muttered sulkily.

Lupin leaned closer and nuzzled his cheek affectionately. "Yes, but you do it to keep your cover with the Death Eaters."

Snape flushed, looking rather shamefaced. "Don't make me out to be more noble than I am, Remus," he said sharply. "Yes, I cater to Lucius and the others by spoiling their children, but even if I didn't have to, I'd still probably favor my own House." He added in a bitter voice, "Why shouldn't I? No one else cuts the Slytherins any slack, and the other teachers all play favorites as well..."

"Does that make it right?" Lupin asked gently, and Snape's flush grew deeper. "Besides, you're wrong. I know most of the other teachers play favorites, and maybe some of them are biased against the Slytherins, but not Branwen. She never played favorites when we were children, and she tried very hard to save her Slytherin students."

"I know," Snape sighed guiltily. "Not that we appreciated it at the time."

"Harry and Ron were taunting Draco about his father being in prison," Lupin said, looking genuinely distressed.

"It's not like Malfoy hasn't done the same thing to them," Snape pointed out, some perverse little part of him deciding to play devil's advocate.

"That doesn't justify what they did," Lupin insisted. "Responding to cruelty with more cruelty only creates a vicious circle. They're both good kids; I didn't expect this from them."

"As I recall," Snape said sarcastically, "everyone thought Potter senior and Black were 'good kids,' too." Lupin sighed, with that sad "Are you ever going to let go of the past, Severus?" look in his eyes. Feeling guilty and irritated at the same time, he muttered, "Well, at least Potter and Weasley haven't tried to feed Malfoy or Rosier to a werewolf yet."

Lupin laughed. Even if Severus was still having trouble letting go of his childhood grudges, at least he was able to joke about them; Lupin thought that was a good sign. "Well, there is that," he chuckled. "But then again, there are no werewolves that I know of in Gryffindor House at present!" Snape rolled his eyes, but he no longer looked irritated. Lupin laughed again, then said in a more serious voice, "I fear Ron and Harry share what Branwen says is the typical Gryffindor flaw: the tendency to see things only as black or white. I had hoped that Harry, at least, might become a little more open-minded, and not repeat his father's mistakes, especially after what he saw in the Pensieve." Lupin smiled tenderly and laid his hand over Snape's. "And now that they know about us, I had hoped the children could see that it is possible for a Gryffindor and Slytherin to get along."

"I think you're just trying to justify your exhibitionism, Lupin," Snape retorted, but with a smile.

"I'd snog you right at the head table in front of the entire school if I could," Lupin said, grinning unrepentantly as he wrapped his arms around Snape.

"Scandalous," Snape murmured as he kissed Lupin. He could still taste the lingering traces of chocolate on Lupin's lips.

"Quite," Lupin agreed, running his hands through Snape's hair. "Does that excite you, Sev?"

"Yes," Snape replied, kissing him again. Then he pulled back a little to scowl at Lupin. "But I'll kill you if you actually try it, Lupin!"

"I'm sure my pelt would make a lovely rug for your office, Severus!" Lupin laughed, pulling Snape back to him for another kiss. But before he let passion cloud his thoughts again, he let himself briefly dream of a future in which the war had been won and Voldemort defeated, a future in which it would be safe for Lupin to declare his love for Severus to the world...

***

Dylan and Damien arrived at the DADA classroom the next morning to find the place in an uproar. The Gryffindors were shouting angrily, and some of the Slytherins were laughing while others looked nervous or disapproving; the source of the commotion was Brad Doherty. He was drawing a cartoonish picture of a stereotypical wolfman on the blackboard, complete with furry face and a mouthful of sharp teeth.

"You'll be in big trouble when Professor Lupin gets here!" Colin Creevey was shouting furiously. Ginny Weasley was actually having to hold him back to keep him from attacking Brad, although she looked just as angry herself.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Dylan snapped.

"Just having a little fun," Brad grinned.

"Give me that," Dylan said, trying to wrest the piece of chalk from Brad's hand, but the other boy resisted.

"What's wrong with you?" Brad whined, then said with a sneer, "Do you want me to tell Draco that you're defending the werewolf?"

"I'm not defending Lupin, you dolt!" Dylan snapped. "I'm trying to keep you from getting points docked from Slytherin! How many points do you think Lupin will take off when he sees this? How happy do you think Draco will be if you jeopardize our chances of winning the House Cup? Give me that chalk and erase that picture!"

"I don't take orders from you, Rosier!" Brad snarled. "Ever since you came here, you've been acting so big, lording it over the rest of us! But when Draco hears--"

"Ahem," Lupin said, clearing his throat.

The two boys turned around to see their teacher standing behind them. Brad jumped back, leaving Dylan holding the piece of chalk. Lupin's eyes glanced at the blackboard, and then at the chalk in Dylan's hand.

"Um...this isn't what it looks like, Professor," Dylan said weakly.

"Detention for both of you," Lupin said sternly. "Mr. Doherty, you may report to Mr. Filch after classes are over for the day. Mr. Rosier, you will report to my office."

"It wasn't Dylan's fault," Damien protested. "It was Brad who drew the picture!" Brad glared at him.

Lupin glanced at the chalk in in Dylan's hand and raised an eyebrow. The Gryffindors shuffled their feet nervously, hesitant to jump to a Slytherin's defense. Even the girls who had flirted with him last year held back; ever since the return of Voldemort had been publicly announced, people had been looking at him differently. His popularity had dipped only slightly, but he had seen many of the students giving him speculative glances, as if wondering if he would turn out to be a Death Eater like his father. But then Ginny stepped forward and said, "He's right, Professor. Brad drew the picture; Dylan was trying to stop him."

"I don't need your help, Weasley!" Dylan snapped. "Mind your own business!" Ginny looked hurt, and Dylan felt a bit guilty, but he couldn't afford to have Brad report to Draco that he'd not only defended Lupin, but accepted help from a Gryffindor. He could justify the first by claiming that he was trying to save Slytherin from losing points, but the two together would look very bad in Draco's eyes.

"Then I will give you detention not for drawing the picture, but for speaking rudely to a classmate," Lupin said, "especially since she was trying to help you. I will still see you in my office this afternoon, Mr. Rosier."

"Yes, sir," Dylan mumbled sullenly.

"All of you, take your seats!" Lupin snapped.

The students all rushed to obey, and Damien whispered to Dylan, sounding puzzled, "It's not like Lupin to be so strict, and to not even listen to your side of the story."

Dylan shrugged. Well, at least the detention should convince Draco that he wasn't on Lupin's side, but he had never gotten a detention during the entire time he'd been at Hogwarts, and now his perfect record was ruined.

Lupin looked at the drawing on the blackboard, and said, sounding more like his usual good-natured self, "Well, I am impressed by your artistic talent, Brad, but your drawing is more fanciful than realistic. Werewolves transform into wolves, not a half-wolf, half-man combination, no matter what the storybooks say." He tapped the blackboard with his wand, and the picture vanished. "You will write me an essay explaining the process of a werewolf's transformation, and list the differences between a lycanthrope's wolf form and a true wolf. Two feet of parchment, plus illustrations." Lupin grinned widely, his lips pulling back from his teeth, and for the first time Dylan noticed that his canines were unusually sharp and pointed, looking almost like small fangs. "Due to me at the end of the week."

Brad nodded, slouching down in his seat resentfully.

"Now, I'd like to see how you're doing on your Patronus Charms," Lupin began, but Colin Creevey raised his hand. "Yes, Colin?"

"I--I was curious, sir," Colin said hesitantly. "I was wondering why you looked so sick when you were teaching us during second year, but now you look much better. There's...there's no cure for lycanthropy, right?" His classmates stared at him in shock; most of them had been wondering the same thing, but none of them had dared to ask Lupin about it.

"That is correct," Lupin said cheerfully, apparently unoffended. "But the Wolfsbane Potion keeps it in check. The inventor of the potion recently made some improvements to it, so my health has much improved. I no longer suffer from the pain and nausea that usually accompany the transformation. So, hopefully, I will not have to take any sick days this year, and can keep teaching you right up until the full moon."

The Gryffindors looked relieved that it wouldn't be necessary for Snape to substitute for a sick Lupin.

"Now, getting back to our lesson--" Colin raised his hand again. "Yes, Colin?" Lupin asked patiently.

"I was wondering, sir, how werewolves are made..."

"They get bitten, you dolt!" Damien muttered under his breath, and several people snickered.

"Mr. Pierce," Lupin said in a warning tone.

Colin flushed. "I know THAT," he said, giving Damien an annoyed look. "But if a person is made a werewolf after being bitten by one, then where did the first werewolf come from?" The class fell silent and looked at each other thoughtfully.

"A good question, Colin," Lupin said with a smile.

"Maybe it's not really any of our business," Ginny started to say, but Lupin interrupted her.

"No, Ginny, it's all right," he said gently. "I don't mind. Secrecy breeds fear, and has contributed to the many misconceptions people have about werewolves. No one really knows how lycanthropy originated, but there are various legends and theories. One theory is that it was a magical experiment gone wrong. But there is a legend in my parents' homeland in France, that werewolves were once true shapeshifters, like the kitsune or tengu of Japan. They could take wolf shape as they pleased, without losing their human intelligence or sanity." The children listened raptly; they had never heard this story before. "But the wolf people grew arrogant, so the legend says, and used their gift for ill rather than good; used their gift to terrorize the populace and set themselves up as lords of the land. So the gods grew angry, and changed the gift into a curse: they would no longer have control over the change, and because they had not valued their humanity, they would lose it, once every month, at the rise of the full moon. They would become no better than beasts--worse than beasts, because animals only kill for food or in self-defense. They would be driven by mindless fury and bloodlust, driven to pass their curse on to others, and they would become reviled as monsters and shunned by society."

There was a stunned silence. "Is that true, Professor?" Ginny asked timidly.

Lupin smiled at her, a little sadly. "I don't know, Ginny," he replied. "But that is the story that has been passed down in my family for generations, and I think there is at least a grain of truth in it. For you see, I did not get my lycanthropy from a bite, but rather, I inherited it."

"What?!" Damien exclaimed, and several other students made similar outbursts.

Lupin smiled at them, looking a little amused. "Didn't you think it was odd that someone with the name 'Lupin' just happened to be bitten by a werewolf? Doesn't that seem like a rather unlikely coincidence? My family was believed to be descended from the original clan of shapeshifters. That story I just told you was not the only thing that was passed down in my family--the curse was as well."

"Your whole family are werewolves?!" Brad blurted out, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

"No," Lupin said. "The curse often skips a generation or two; no one can predict who will inherit it. My family tried to hide it, of course, but it is a difficult thing to conceal. There were dark rumors whispered about them for hundreds of years, sometimes leading to violence. That is why my parents emigrated to England before I was born, hoping to start a new life where no one knew of their past. Unfortunately--" Lupin's lips twisted in an ironic smile. "--I inherited the curse and ruined those plans."

Colin tentatively stuck his hand in the air again.

Lupin sighed a little and said, "Yes, Colin?"

"Then...you're the only person in your family who is a werewolf, sir?"

"As far as I know, I may be the only person left in my family, period," Lupin said, that ironic smile crossing his lips again. "My parents passed away several years ago, and I have no siblings. Though I suppose it is possible that I may have some very distant cousins still living in France, but I don't really know."

Dylan hesitated a moment, then raised his hand.

"Yes, Dylan?"

"Why haven't we heard of these legends before, sir?" Dylan asked. "The textbooks imply that the disease is passed solely through a werewolf's bite..."

"Probably because some of the prominent wizarding families had a few skeletons in their own closets, and wanted to avoid the same kind of stigma that my family suffered from," Lupin said cynically. "If someone contracted lycanthropy, it could be chalked up to carelessness or bad luck, and need not tarnish their whole family. But if people believed that the disease could be inherited..."

"Then the entire family would be branded as monsters, whether the curse was actually inherited or not," Dylan finished. He noted, with dark amusement, the parallels between Lupin's life and his own: the curse of his father's reputation followed Dylan as relentlessly as Lupin's own curse followed him. In fact, many people (including most of the male members of Gryffindor House) probably thought that being the son of a Death Eater was far worse than being a werewolf. A similar thought had probably occurred to his teacher, because Lupin caught his eye and gave him a sardonic little smile.

"But in any case," Lupin said in a more brisk and professional tone, "inherited lycanthropy is extremely rare; most werewolves have indeed contracted their disease through bites. And thanks to..." Lupin hesitated, seeming to stumble over the words. "...Professor Kamiyama in Japan, the Wolfsbane Potion makes it a manageable disease. A werewolf need no longer be a danger to himself or anyone else. Now, getting back to Patronus Charms..."

Lupin returned to their scheduled lesson, and the entire class, even Brad, was unusually subdued and quiet for the rest of the period.

Part 12

***

Afterword: Lupin's story about werewolves was somewhat inspired by the short story "East of the Dawn" by Jere Dunham, from Marion Zimmer Bradley's "Sword and Sorceress" anthology (volume 8). The heroine is a werewolf who is unable to shapeshift into wolf form. In order to get rid of such a useless pack member, the clan priestess sends her out on a false quest. The quest is fulfilled in a sense; she does not learn to shapeshift, but she is accepted by a clan of amazon-like warrior women who teach her to fight and hunt. She returns to her family to find that the shapeshifters' godess has punished them for the priestess's lie by taking away their ability to change into human form, and they are now bound forever in animal form. Obviously, Lupin's story is a bit different, but I liked the idea of the gods punishing the shapeshifters for their arrogance. And yes, I know that in Prisoner of Azkaban Lupin says he was bitten by a werewolf as a child, but to me, his very name (both "Remus" and "Lupin") implies some sort of family connection with wolves, and I liked the idea of him being descended from a line of werewolves. And I picked France as his country of origin because he shares the same last name as the thief Arsene Lupin (from a series of French novels) and Arsene's "grandson" Lupin III (from the Japanese manga and anime series).