FIC: Phoenix Rising, Part 20 of 37

[geri_chan]

Title: Phoenix Rising, Part 20 of 37
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~8,840
Warning: AU; my own version of Year 6 (was written pre-HBP).
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K. Rowling, except Hob, who belongs to William Mayne; 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: A Death Eater summons reveals the fate of Karkaroff.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19

***

As Snape left the Great Hall, he passed by the Slytherin table and said, "I want a word with you, Rosier." Dylan got up and followed him. His Slytherin housemates were oddly subdued, not responding with the usual sympathetic or joking comments they made when one of their own seemed to be in trouble with Snape. But then, except for Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, they had been unusually subdued ever since the news of the prison break at Azkaban had been made public.

To Dylan's surprise, Snape headed not for his office, but for his quarters, where he fetched their Death Eater robes.

"Are we being summoned?" Dylan asked, his heart sinking. "I didn't feel the Mark burn."

"I received a message telling us we would be summoned tonight," Snape replied curtly, his face already schooled into the emotionless mask he always wore around the Dark Lord. "Come along, it will take some time to get far enough off the school grounds to Apparate, and the Dark Lord does not like to be kept waiting."

With almost perfect timing, their Marks began to burn as they left the school behind. Snape pulled Dylan close, and a moment later they re-emerged in Voldemort's underground chambers. Other black-robed figures were arriving, and soon the full complement of Death Eaters were present. They all took their places in the circle and bowed to their Master, who was dressed in his usual black robes, but this time he also wore a belt around his waist that held a sheathed dagger, one with an orate gold hilt wrought in the shape of a serpent.

"Welcome!" Voldemort said, sounding pleased and triumphant. "I have summoned you here to celebrate on this All Hallows Eve, the return of your imprisoned brethren!"

The Death Eaters bowed to him again, and Lucius Malfoy said, "Thank you, Master, for freeing us from our imprisonment."

"You should not have let yourselves be taken in the first place," Voldemort said coldly, but without his usual menace. "Do not fail me again."

"No, Master," Lucius said, hastily dropping to his knees and bowing low. "Never again, Master."

"Very good, Lucius," Voldemort said almost indulgently, and Dylan began to grow nervous, wondering if it was a good or a bad sign that the Dark Lord was in such a good mood; it was not like him to be merciful. "Dylan," Voldemort said, causing him to jump a little.

"Yes, my Lord?" Dylan asked respectfully, making sure his mental walls were firmly in place.

"Fetch me your roses from the corner."

"Yes, my Lord."

"DYLAN?!" shouted a surprised but very familiar voice.

"Uncle Gwydion?!" Dylan exclaimed in disbelief, as two of the Death Eaters pushed back their hoods. "Uncle Gilbert?!"

Gwydion looked furious while Gilbert just looked shocked and horrified. Gwydion turned on Lucius Malfoy and shouted, "You told me Ariane was keeping him away from the Death Eaters! You told me you'd keep Dylan from inheriting the Donner estates!"

"What?!" shouted Dylan, throwing back his own hood. He knew better than to expect loyalty from the Death Eaters, but this little revelation sent his blood boiling until Snape leaned over and whispered, "Control yourself, Mr. Rosier." Then he took a deep breath and regained control of his emotions, the knowledge that losing control could get them both killed acting like a sudden splash of cold water in the face, bringing him back to his senses.

"It is true that Ariane was reluctant to let him join us," Lucius said in a silky voice. "But Dylan came to us on his own."

Dylan did not contradict that blatant lie, but had to fight very hard to keep his defenses up and remain in control.

"I knew you would turn out like your father, you foul little demon's spawn!" Gwydion snarled at Dylan.

"Who are you to talk, you hypocrite?" Dylan snapped. "All these years, you've insulted my father's memory and treated your own sister like dirt, but you're no better than them! You're a beast and a rapist, and now it seems a Death Eater as well!" Then suddenly something dawned on him; he remembered his great-uncle mentioning something about Gwydion getting a job at the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "It was you who helped free the prisoners at Azkaban! You were the inside help!"

"Dylan!" Snape said sharply, and Dylan bit his lip and fell silent, belatedly remembering Snape's admonition not to be too clever for his own good.

But Voldemort just chuckled and looked approving. "Clever child."

"Did you want Uncle Math's little country estate so badly, Uncle?" Dylan asked in a much quieter and calmer voice. "You already took the inheritance that belonged to my mother; was that not enough for you?"

"I didn't do it for the lands, you little brat!" Gwydion snarled. "I did it to help Gilbert!"

Dylan turned to look at his other uncle, suddenly noticing that his gray eyes were no longer dull and unfocused; indeed, he seemed sharply aware of his surroundings. He looked frightened and miserable, and when Dylan's eyes met his, suddenly guilty and ashamed rather than hostile.

Voldemort smiled, looking as if he were savoring the twins' anger and guilt. "Gwydion agreed to serve me in exchange for a potion that would restore his brother's sanity."

"Temporarily," Gwydion snarled.

"Potion?" Dylan asked, giving Snape an accusing look; his teacher's black eyes remained blank and unreadable.

"Temporarily, of course," Voldemort agreed. "There is no permanent cure for Gilbert's condition, but even if there were, I would never have given it to you. How else could I ensure your loyalty if you did not have to come back for a regular dose of the Mind Restoration Potion to keep your brother sane?"

Gwydion's face turned red with anger, and Gilbert looked even more miserable and ashamed of himself. "You lied to me!" Gwydion said. "You double-crossed me!"

Lucius Malfoy gave him a malicious smile. "I thought you said you joined us out of brotherly love, Gwydion. Are you saying that you would have let your brother remain a half-wit if you knew that Dylan would become a Death Eater after all?" Gwydion said nothing, but spluttered with rage. "Perhaps it was ambition that motivated you, not love. You seemed quite concerned when I mentioned the possibility of you losing the Donner title if you failed to sire a daughter."

"That's not true!" Gilbert protested loyally, but he gave his brother an uncertain, almost hurt look.

Gwydion didn't seem to notice. "If I had known I would have to serve alongside my sister's brat--"

"Enough!" shouted Voldemort, and everyone fell silent. "Our little reunion is not quite complete." His voice had lost all its indulgence and amusement, turning cold and hard. "Dylan, bring the roses, now!"

Dylan rushed to obey, picking up the potted plant, which though it had grown, did not seem to be as heavy as it looked, though it was a bit awkward to carry, especially since he was trying to hold it as far away from his body as possible to avoid being pricked by the thorns. One of the blossoms swayed forward on the end of its vine to brush lightly against Dylan's cheek in what seemed like an affectionate caress, and he nearly dropped the plant, but somehow managed to hang onto it.

Dylan and the other Death Eaters followed the Dark Lord down a dark passageway into another room; Dylan recognized it--recognized the stone altar on which his mother had been laid the night he had been forced into taking the Dark Mark. But this time, instead of Ariane, a thin, haggard-looking man lay gagged and bound on it. The other Death Eaters gasped, and someone exclaimed, "Karkaroff!" And then Dylan realized it was Professor Karkaroff, the Headmaster of Durmstrang Institute; he had not recognized the man at first. Karkaroff, already thin to begin with, had lost weight and looked almost skeletal, and his once elegantly-groomed white hair and goatee had grown out into an unkempt, tangled mess.

Voldemort's red eyes were glowing with triumph as he said, "See, now all our members have returned to the flock! No one leaves the Death Eaters! No one betrays me without being punished!" He reached down and pulled the gag off the man's mouth. "You were a fool to think you could escape my grasp, Igor! Any last words?"

"Please, Master!" Karkaroff begged. "Please, give me another chance! Mercy--"

"I have no mercy for traitors!" Voldemort snapped. "You had your chance during the Triwizard Tournament; if you wanted a second chance, you should have asked for it then! Perhaps if you had groveled sufficiently, I might have given it to you. Now it's too late."

"Mercy!" Karkaroff wailed. He frantically turned to the other Death Eaters. "Lucius, Severus, please help me! Antonin...?" But his fellow Death Eaters ignored his pleas, stepping back and turning away from him.

"Now you will all witness the fate of a traitor!" Voldemort shouted. "Dylan, bring the roses and set them down here!"

Dylan knew what was coming next, but he had no choice except to obey. He did not dare look at Snape for reassurance, but immediately stepped forward and placed the flowerpot on the altar beside Karkaroff as the Dark Lord bid him. Voldemort drew his dagger, and Karkaroff cried out in pain as the Dark Lord slashed him across the chest with it. Blood welled up through the wound, soaking his robes, and Dylan hastily retreated as the roses began to stir eagerly.

The vines lashed out like whips, wrapping themselves around the immobile wizard, and Karkaroff began to scream. Dylan trembled as the former Durmstrang Professor screamed and struggled; he knew he should control himself better, but he couldn't seem to stop. However, he saw that many of the other Death Eaters, including Gilbert, were also shaking with terror. Snape, however, remained outwardly calm and impassive, and Bellatrix Lestrange watched with an avid, eager look in her dark eyes. The thorns bit deeply into Karkaroff's flesh, drinking hungrily, and a number of new, blood-red roses blossomed on the vines. Karkaroff's screams gradually grew fainter, and his struggles weaker, until finally he lay still upon the stone slab, his eyes fixed open in a look of horror, and the vines unwrapped themselves from around his bloodless corpse and retreated back into their pot.

"This is the fate of all who defy me!" Voldemort declared, and the Death Eaters instantly sank to their knees in obeisance. "All traitors will be hunted down and slain, no matter how far they may flee!" He smiled down at the Donner brothers. "Have you any more complaints, Gwydion?"

"No, Master!" a pale and shaken Gwydion said hastily. "None!"

"Good," Voldemort said, patting him on the shoulder almost affectionately, and Gwydion visibly shuddered. "We are all family now, Gwydion; all the Death Eaters are your brethren, and you must set aside your former grudges. But fear not, as Lucius told you, I shall reward those who serve me well. You will both--" Voldemort's gaze shifted to Dylan for a moment. "--be far more than the rulers of a simple family estate." His arms opened wide, as if to include all the Death Eaters. "Together we will be the rulers of the wizarding world!"

"Master," the Death Eaters said in a hushed tone of combined fear and reverence, and they bowed down low, touching their foreheads nearly to the ground; Dylan quickly followed suit, imitating the others, and he saw that his uncles did so as well.

"Dylan," the Dark Lord said, beckoning to him, and Dylan quickly rose to his feet and approached the altar. "Cut me more of the blossoms; they may prove useful in some magical research I am conducting."

"Yes, Master," Dylan said obediently, trying not to shudder as he accepted the still-bloody dagger Voldemort held out to him. He managed to keep his hand steady as he trimmed off several blossoms. The vines quivered a bit, but made no move to attack.

"Wormtail," Voldemort said, beckoning again; the silver-handed Death Eater scurried forward, holding open a sack, which Dylan dropped the flowers into. Dylan handed the dagger back to Voldemort, who casually wiped it off on Karkaroff's robes before sheathing it. "You are dismissed," he said to his Death Eaters, who began to disperse, then said to Gwydion, almost as an afterthought, "Oh, that's right, you need more of the potion, don't you?"

"Yes, my Lord," Gwydion said, eyeing him nervously.

Wormtail ran to the corner of the room to pick up a small chest, and handed it to his Master. Voldemort opened the chest, revealing several potion bottles. He pulled out one, started to hand it to Gwydion, than opened his hand and let it fall to the floor, where it shattered and spilled its contents. From the corner of his eye, Dylan saw Snape wince slightly, no doubt at the sight of seeing all his hard work wasted. Because of course it must be Snape who had brewed the potion; in fact, this was probably the mysterious potion they had been working on last term, the one that had to be so carefully prepared.

Gilbert winced as well, and Gwydion's face turned red with anger, but he was clearly too cowed by the Dark Lord to object. "Never forget, Gwydion," Voldemort said softly, "that your brother's sanity depends on me. In fact, his very life--both your lives--depend on me."

"I will not forget, Master," Gwydion said, bowing to his Lord, and Voldemort handed him the remainder of the potion bottles. Gwydion paused to give Dylan one last, hateful look before he and his brother Disapparated.

"Return the roses to their usual spot, and you may go, Dylan," Voldemort said.

"Yes, my Lord," Dylan said, bowing low, and picked up the flowerpot, trying not to look at Karkaroff's corpse as he did so. He took the roses back to their corner in the main room, and Snape Apparated them out of there.

***

Lupin, Branwen, Sirius, and Tonks sat in the drawing room playing cards; Hob sat by the fire smoking his pipe. A jack-o-lantern carved by Hob sat on the mantle, grinning down at them toothily. Hob had prepared mugs of hot cider, and there was a big bowl of candy sitting on the table, but no one other than Bane was particularly hungry.

"Do you have any threes?" Lupin asked Tonks.

"You already asked me that last turn," she reminded him. "Go fish."

"Oh, right," Lupin said, a distracted look in his blue eyes. "Sorry."

Sirius sighed and threw his cards down on the table. "Let's give it up; nobody really feels like playing anyway."

Suddenly, they heard footsteps on the stairs, and the four wizards jumped to their feet. The door opened, revealing Snape and Dylan. They both looked unhurt, but Snape looked very weary, and Dylan's face was white, and there was a look of horror in his silver-gray eyes.

"Are you all right, Severus?" Lupin asked.

"Yes, we're fine," Snape replied. "But Dylan is a bit shaken, so I thought we could take some time to compose ourselves here before returning to the school."

"What happened?" asked Sirius.

Before Snape could reply, Dylan groaned, "I think I'm going to be sick."

Hob vanished, then reappeared holding a basin--just in time, as Dylan bent over and retched. Lupin and Snape hovered over the boy anxiously, and Tonks's eyes widened in surprise as Snape gently pulled the boy's long hair--which was starting to come loose from its ponytail--back from his face.

After emptying his stomach of its contents, Dylan straightened up, still looking pale. "Sorry," he mumbled. "If I'd known we were going to be summoned, I wouldn't have eaten anything at dinner."

"It's all right," Snape said gently, stroking the boy's hair. "I did the same thing, the night I saw my first execution."

"Really?" Dylan asked.

"Really," Snape replied. "And I'm pleased that you had the presence of mind to wait until after we left the Dark Lord's presence to do so." Dylan gave him a tentative smile, looking very young and vulnerable, with none of his usual cool composure.

Hob vanished with the basin, and Branwen offered the boy a mug of cider. "Here," she said kindly. "This will help wash the taste out of your mouth. Why don't you come have a seat here by the fire?"

Dylan gratefully sipped the cider and took a seat on the couch; Snape sat down beside him. Despite the warmth of the drink and the fire, Dylan began to shiver. Snape looked at him helplessly for a moment, then said, "Ouch!" as Lupin elbowed him in the side. Snape hesitantly and a bit awkwardly, put his arm around the boy. Dylan leaned against his teacher, not caring that he might be behaving childishly or embarrassing himself in front of two of his other teachers and two strangers--well, one stranger and one near-stranger.

Branwen gave Snape a smile of mingled tenderness and amusement; Tonks's eyes grew even wider. Snape gave both of them a sour look, but kept his arm around Dylan. Sirius stared at them, looking both thoughtful and a little uncomfortable, and Lupin leaned over and kissed his lover on the cheek.

"Damn it, Lupin!" Snape growled, and Dylan giggled. "Glad to see you're feeling better, Mr. Rosier," Snape said sourly, but there was an underlying tone of brusque affection in his voice, and Dylan smiled.

"Thank you, sir," he said shyly, straightening up a little. "I'm all right now."

"What you saw tonight was enough to unnerve anyone," Snape said gruffly. "You probably handled it better than Wormtail did."

"What did happen tonight, Snape?" Sirius asked, without his usual hostility.

"The Death Eaters had a little reunion tonight," Snape said, grinning mirthlessly. "The escaped prisoners...and another old friend: Karkaroff."

"Karkaroff!" Lupin exclaimed.

Snape nodded. "The Dark Lord wanted to use him as an example to the other Death Eaters, I think, of what would become of anyone who betrayed him."

"What did he do?" Tonks asked, as Dylan looked at her curiously. "Oh, sorry," she said. "I should have introduced myself. I'm Nymphadora Tonks, but please just call me Tonks. And I know that you must be Dylan."

Dylan nodded at her politely, but that name sounded familiar... "Tonks! I read that name in the Daily Prophet--it said you're being held as a 'material witness'--"

"Translation: 'suspect,'" Sirius muttered.

Tonks sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. I was framed for the break-in, so now I have to wear this." She tapped the silver collar around her neck. "Your Uncle Gwydion's Squib Collar."

Dylan had no idea what a Squib Collar was--though from the name, he could make an educated guess--but the name "Gwydion" reminded him of something. "You knew!" he said accusingly to Snape. "You knew that my uncles had become Death Eaters and you didn't tell me! You even had me help you make the potion for Gilbert, didn't you?"

"The Dark Lord clearly did not want you to know, so I did not tell you," Snape said coolly, but his eyes looked concerned and a little hurt.

"Don't be angry with Severus, Dylan; he was only trying to protect you," Lupin said gently. "It would have been dangerous for you both if Voldemort discovered Severus was sharing secrets with you, and you have only recently become proficient in Occlumency."

"I'm sorry," Snape said quietly. "I wanted to tell you, but I did what I thought was best."

"No, I'm sorry, Professor," Dylan said apologetically. "I know you did it to protect me. It was just such a shock to see them there! All my life, they've talked about how much they hated the Death Eaters; how can they be such hypocrites?"

"What do you expect from two men who would rape a teenage girl, their own uncle's apprentice, no less?" Snape said scornfully.

"Gwydion Donner is an arrogant, immoral man," Lupin said quietly, "but he joined the Death Eaters for love of his brother. Though there are some sacrifices which cannot and should not be made, not even for the sake of a loved one."

"Don't make him into a saint, Lupin," Snape said with a scowl. "While brotherly love might have played a part, Gwydion is as ambitious as any other Death Eater. He let it slip at the meeting that Lucius had promised him the entire Donner estate, including Dylan's portion, if he joined. Apparently Lucius played on his fears of losing his inheritance if he should fail to produce a female heir." Snape frowned thoughtfully. "I never thought of that before. The Donner title is supposed to pass through the female line; it goes to a male only if there are no female heirs available. If Gwydion fails to have children, Ariane or Mathias could legally challenge him for the title. Possibly even Dylan, especially if he should someday have a daughter..." A look of sudden comprehension filled Snape's black eyes. "Ah, so that's it! He would rather sell his soul than let Evan Rosier's son or grandchildren inherit the Donner estate!"

"That's foolish, though," Branwen objected. "He's still young, and there's plenty of time for him to produce an heir."

"For such a smart man," Snape pointed out, "Gwydion is surprisingly foolish. He was a fool to arrange Goewin's rape in the first place, and an even bigger fool to think he could get away with it."

Sirius scowled; the present conversation was reminding him too much of his childhood and his mother's endless lectures about pureblood politics. "While all this talk of inheritance and politics is quite fascinating," Sirius said sarcastically, "could we get back to the subject at hand? What happened to Karkaroff?"

"He's dead, of course," Snape said curtly.

"The Dark Lord used my roses to kill Professor Karkaroff," Dylan said softly. He began to tremble again, and Snape looked at him with concern. "I never saw anyone die before. I never killed anyone before."

"You didn't kill anyone, Dylan," Snape said firmly, putting his arm around the boy again.

"I put the roses on the altar," Dylan whispered.

"The Dark Lord would have killed you if you didn't," Snape reminded him. "And it was the Dark Lord who drew Karkaroff's blood." He thought about saying that Karkaroff was no loss, but decided it wouldn't make Dylan feel any better, and would probably irritate Lupin. Besides, it was not really true; even though he had despised Karkaroff, who had been a coward with no real loyalty to either side, even though he had warned Karkaroff not to flee, Snape's conscience was bothered by his own tacit role in the man's death. He was just better at hiding his emotions than Dylan was. And after years of witnessing horrors, one gradually became somewhat--if not completely--numbed to them.

Branwen reached out and took Dylan's hands; he looked up at her, startled. "The fact that you can feel remorse," she said gently, "proves you are not like the other Death Eaters. There will be times when that guilt gnaws away at you and keeps you up at night, but never wish to be rid of it, Dylan, because that guilt and those sleepless nights are proof of your humanity."

Dylan saw shadows in his Professor's green eyes, and wondered what guilty secrets she harbored. "What keeps you up at night, Professor?" he asked softly.

She smiled at him sadly. "The fact that I could not save my students from Voldemort. I lie awake at night sometimes, wondering if there is something more I could have said or done to have kept them from falling under his sway, to have made them see what he truly was. I regret Nigel Riggs, a vain, foolish young man who so badly wanted status and respect in the eyes of the pureblood families that he sold his soul and never realized the cost until it was too late. I regret Lorcan Foley, whose father's abuse had already twisted his mind and made him a prime target for Voldemort." Her gaze drifted to Sirius for a moment. "I regret Regulus Black, who was a kind, if somewhat shallow young man, who blindly believed in the values his parents professed, without ever stopping to question them. I even regret Lucius Malfoy, who grew up without love in a house of cold propriety, and thus regarded any gesture of compassion as a weakness to be despised or exploited." She paused, her green eyes filling with tears and added softly, "But most of all, I regret not being able to save Lyall Wilkes and Evan Rosier."

"Professor," Dylan said, staring at her in shock.

"I'm sorry, Dylan," she said, as a tear slid down her face and Bane cawed at her, looking concerned. He gave up rummaging through the candy bowl and flew over to perch on her shoulder, rubbing his face against her cheek. "I'm sorry I couldn't save your father," Branwen continued, as she reached up to pet Bane.

"Why did you want so badly to save them?" Dylan asked, recalling Lupin's tale of how she had tried to convince his father and Wilkes to surrender. "Why do you regret their deaths the most?"

"I had no family of my own," Branwen replied, "so I came to regard my students as my family. I loved them as if they were my own children." Dylan's eyes grew wide. "The Slytherins especially, because I came from a family that practiced Dark Magic, and I knew the risks and temptations that they faced. And Evan and Lyall were so charming and so full of joy and life, before Voldemort corrupted them. I remember the little boys who stole a tank of live frogs from the Potions Master's office and set them loose in the Slytherin girls' dorm during their first year, and I remember the bold young man who asked me for a dance at the Yule Ball." She smiled nostalgically even as the tears continued to fall from her eyes. "They had their faults, yes: Lyall followed first Evan's, and then Voldemort's lead blindly, never once stopping to consider whether what he was doing was wrong, and Evan never cared about right or wrong, so long as he got what he wanted. And..." She hesitated a moment, then continued, "He was brought up to regard Muggles as less than human, so he felt no remorse about killing or torturing them; in fact, he learned to enjoy it." Dylan shuddered, and Snape gave her an accusing look, which she ignored. "But...there was goodness in them, too. They were fiercely loyal to each other; neither ever betrayed the other, no matter what punishments they were threatened with, which in school was just detention, but at the very end was death. And Evan loved Lyall, and he loved your mother, so much that he was willing to defy Lucius Malfoy over it, and he had always been one Lucius's most loyal followers. When Moody and the other Aurors looked at them, they saw only the hardened Death Eaters, the men who had killed innocent people, but when I looked at them, I saw the young boys I had grown to love, and I am sorry, so sorry, that I could not save them..."

She was outright sobbing now, cold, imperious Professor Blackmore, her face buried in her hands as Bane made agitated croaking noises. "Professor!" Dylan said in alarm.

"Branwen," Snape said, sounding concerned. Lupin and Tonks looked equally worried, but it was Sirius who came over and put his arm around her.

"It's all right, Branwen," he said gently. "You did your very best; there was nothing else you could have done. And you didn't lose of all of your students; there's me and Remus and Snape...you even managed to knock some sense into my thick head, and no one short of a miracle worker could have done that!" She laughed a little through her tears as she continued to weep on Sirius's shoulder.

"If you're feeling better, Mr. Rosier," Snape said, looking uncomfortable, "perhaps we should get back to school."

"Yes, sir," Dylan said hastily, rising to his feet, and Lupin did so as well.

"I assume that nothing else of consequence happened at the meeting?" Tonks asked quietly.

Snape nodded. "He just wanted to make an example of Karkaroff, that's all. You can tell them that, er...later," he said, nodding in Sirius's and Branwen's direction. Then he, Dylan, and Lupin left the room.

***

Tonks left the drawing room as well, and headed to her bedroom, leaving her cousin and Branwen alone. After a few minutes, Branwen stopped weeping and wiped at her eyes. Sirius made the showy gestures of a stage magician, rolling up his sleeves and holding out his empty palms, then with a flourish, produced a handkerchief from his clenched fist. "For you, milady," he said, bowing and offering her the handkerchief.

She laughed and accepted it, wiping the tears from her face. "Thank you, dear. I'm sorry about that."

"You did once offer me a shoulder to cry on, if I remember correctly," Sirius said lightly. "I'm just returning the favor."

"I remember," Branwen said. She hesitated for a moment, then said, "It's none of my business, of course, so you don't have to answer, but--"

"Why was I crying back then?" Sirius asked, his tone serious now, and no longer playful. He looked uncomfortable, then replied, "I guess you have the right to know. I...was having regrets about the past."

"What sort of regrets?"

"Snape. Remus. Regulus." Sirius sighed, and Branwen said nothing, but merely waited patiently. Finally, he continued. "I saw how worried Snape was about Dylan, and I realized he really cared about the boy. And if he was capable of caring about Dylan, then maybe he really did love Remus all along." His former teacher said nothing, but sighed in a slightly exasperated manner. "Yeah, okay, I know I'm a slow learner," Sirius grumbled. "I finally realized what a terrible thing I'd done by breaking him and Remy up, and I realized I had wanted to punish Remy as much as I did Snape. That was why I sent Snape to the Shrieking Shack instead of just hexing him or something." Sirius flushed with shame, but Branwen looked oddly sympathetic, considering that he was confessing how he had nearly gotten her favorite student killed. "I was jealous," he whispered. "I thought we'd lose Remy to Snape."

"Oh, Sirius," Branwen said softly.

"I know, I know, Remy doesn't think that way; he loves everyone without taking sides, even though Snape and I have pushed and pulled him back and forth between us all these years. I was so damn stubborn, so damn sure that I thought I knew what was right." He laughed bitterly. "Didn't you say something to me once, about how Gryffindors only see things as black or white? I hated Evan Rosier because he was a Slytherin and a Death Eater, but so was my own brother. I did love Reg, you know, but I turned my back on him when I left home. I was jealous of him, because he could do no wrong in my parents' eyes, while I could do nothing right. But if I'd stayed in touch with him, maybe I could have saved him."

"And maybe not," Branwen said gently.

"But I'll never know now, will I?" Sirius asked bitterly. "And now I have to live with it."

"We all have to live with our regrets, Sirius." Branwen sighed, then blushed a little, which made her look surprisingly young and girlish--as long as one didn't look too closely at her eyes, which were still haunted and filled with shadows. "I only meant to reassure Dylan; I didn't mean to break down in front of him like that..."

Sirius smiled at her and said gently, "Guilt and remorse are proof of your humanity, Branwen."

She laughed a little. "And now the student throws the teacher's words back in her face!" Then she smiled at him affectionately and said, "I knew one day you would grow up, Sirius," then leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead; he blushed like a schoolboy. "You should try and make peace with Severus, you know."

"I know," Sirius said, scowling, his face still a little red. "I did try apologizing to him, but--"

"You did?!" Branwen exclaimed.

Sirius felt a little annoyed that she sounded so shocked. "Yeah, but he didn't want to hear it. Says he'll never forgive me."

"Give it some time, Sirius. His wounds run deep; they won't heal overnight." But she was grinning from ear-to-ear, looking surprisingly happy for someone who had been sobbing her heart out a minute ago. "I'm so proud of you, Siri!" she said, hugging him so suddenly and tightly that the breath was knocked out of him, and Bane squawked indignantly as he was nearly thrown from his perch on her shoulder.

Then she released him, and while he was still catching his breath, she rose to her feet, saying, "I know the two of you can work things out eventually; don't give up on him, Sirius." He nodded weakly, and she patted him on the cheek in a motherly fashion. "Good night, dear." Then she left the room, humming to herself cheerfully as Bane croaked out an off-key accompaniment.

"Siri?" Sirius muttered in confusion to himself, scratching his head. No one had called him that since Regulus had been a toddler unable to pronounce Sirius's full name. Branwen certainly never called Lupin or Snape by nicknames. And how had she shifted from heartbroken to cheerful so quickly? "Women," he muttered darkly. "Mood swings. Or maybe it's a demon thing." He shuddered a little. "Demons with mood swings, now that's a scary thought!"

Before heading to bed, he stopped by Tonks's room. "Did Snape have anything else to report about the meeting?" he asked.

"No, apparently Karkaroff was the main attraction," she replied. "You-Know-Who just wanted to set an example for his Death Eaters. Is Branwen okay?"

"She seems just fine now," Sirius said, still feeling a little baffled by her reaction, and explained what had happened, although he felt a little awkward and ashamed to have to tell Tonks how stupidly he had behaved in the past.

"I see," Tonks murmured. "So that's why Snape hates you so much." Sirius flushed. "Well, you made some mistakes in the past, Sirius, but at least you're trying to set things right now. Branwen's right; you can't give up just because Snape isn't ready to forgive you yet. You owe it to him and to Remus--and to yourself--to keep trying. Er...and maybe we should stop referring to him as 'Snape' all the time. I do try to call him by his first name at the meetings. It might be hard to build a relationship with someone when you only call them by their last name."

Sirius scowled. "I don't want a 'relationship' with Snape! All I want is..." What did he want, anyway? "All I want is a truce between us!"

"A good working relationship as fellow members of the Order, you mean?" Tonks suggested with a grin as her cousin glared at her. "Come on, Sirius, he's your best friend's lover! You don't have to become bosom buddies, but I think you need to develop some kind of relationship beyond being just barely able to tolerate each other!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Sirius grumbled. "One step at a time. Let's get Snape--"

"Severus," Tonks corrected.

"I'll call him 'Severus' when he starts calling me something other than 'Black' or 'you moron,'" Sirius muttered.

"Sirius!" Tonks said sharply, sounding much more like Branwen than his mischievous little cousin.

"Let's just get Snape to stop hating my guts before we go about building a relationship, okay? That's going to be a hard enough task as it is!"

Tonks sighed. "I suppose you're right; we'll have to do this step-by-step."

"'We'?" Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows. "Don't I have enough people meddling in my life as it is? Remy, Branwen, even Hob, trying to get me married off..."

Tonks laughed. "What else have I got to do but meddle in your life, right now, Sirius?"

"We'll get your name cleared, Tonks," Sirius promised.

"I know, Sirius."

After a brief silence, Sirius said, "I don't get why Branwen was so overjoyed about me apologizing to Snape. I mean, I know she always scolds us for fighting and stuff, but she did a complete mood swing from weeping over Evan Rosier to hugging me so hard she nearly cracked my ribs." He rubbed his sides and muttered, "Actually, they're still a little sore..."

"You silly git," Tonks said affectionately. "Don't you know that you three--you, Remus, and Severus--are the people she loves most in the world? Of course she's happy that you're finally setting aside your feud with Snape and trying to get along with him!"

Sirius's jaw dropped open. "Branwen loves me?" he asked incredulously.

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Of course she loves you! Didn't you hear what she just said about her students being her family and loving them like they were her children?"

Suddenly he recalled their conversation at the beginning of the summer, when he had asked Branwen why she had let her favorite student, Snape, risk his life for Sirius's sake, and she had responded, "I love all three of you." "I know she does, I guess," Sirius mumbled. "It's just, Snape's always been her favorite." He flushed again; he hadn't meant for that to sound so whiny. "And she's always nagging at me, about how I need to be more responsible and less selfish and--"

Tonks grinned. She had talked a little with Branwen and Mad-Eye Moody over the summer, and she'd heard a few things about Sirius's training period with them. "I heard she was hard on you when you were training with her because she thought you had a lot of potential. She's tough on you because she cares about you, Sirius. If she didn't care, she wouldn't bother. Dedalus Diggle acts like an idiot at times, but she doesn't bother with lecturing him, because she doesn't care about him. She cares about you."

Sirius just stared at her, looking stunned and a little chastened. "When did you get so mature and grown-up, little cousin?"

Tonks laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "When you weren't looking, cousin dear." Sirius laughed and rumpled her spiky hair like he used to when she was a little girl. As he got up to leave, she added thoughtfully, "You know, Sirius..."

"Yes?"

"Branwen is a very attractive woman."

"Yes," he said in a tone that implied "and what's your point?"

"And, for all practical purposes, she's about the same age as you now, maybe even a little younger. Have you ever thought...?"

"No!" Sirius shouted in horror, as he realized what she was getting at. "Absolutely not! She was my teacher, for Merlin's sake!"

"But you're both adults and equals now--"

"I'm not dating a woman who gave me detention when I was a kid!" Sirius shouted. "The idea's ludicrous!" Then he scowled and added in an almost sulky voice, "Besides, she doesn't think of me as an equal. She still thinks of me as a kid."

"Then you'll have to convince her that you're an adult."

Sirius's face was turning red again, with both anger and embarrassment. "I'll convince her that I'm an adult, because I want her to think of me as her equal as a colleague and a friend! But that's all! I'm not interested in her that way! How could I date Professor Blackmore, for God's sake?!"

"If you want her to think of you as an equal," Tonks pointed out in a reasonable voice, "shouldn't you also think of her as an equal and stop thinking of her as your Professor?"

"Don't meddle in my love life, Tonks!"

"But you asked me to," she said innocently.

"What are you talking about?!"

"Remember when you came to see me at the Ministry, and you were talking about how Hob wanted you to find a 'Missus' and you said I should find you some likely candidates--"

"I was joking!" Sirius shouted. "And I don't consider Branwen a 'likely candidate'!"

"Why not?" Tonks asked. "She's beautiful, intelligent, brave--"

"And scary as all hell!"

"And she does love you--"

"Like a son!"

"Well, yes, that's true," Tonks agreed, "so we have to get her to look at you as--"

"'We' are not doing anything! In fact, we're not having this conversation!"

"Sirius--"

"I don't need your help to find a girlfriend! In fact, I don't need a girlfriend right now, period! We're in the middle of a war! Who has time for romance?"

"Severus and Remus, apparently," Tonks replied helpfully.

"No meddling!" Sirius admonished his cousin sternly, then stalked out of her room, slamming the door behind him. A moment later, the door opened and Sirius poked his head back in the room just long enough to say, "And don't you dare mention this crazy idea to Branwen, do you understand?" before leaving and slamming the door again without waiting for a reply.

Tonks just grinned and said to herself, "My, that's an awfully strong reaction for a man who claims to have no romantic feelings for his Professor." She heard a soft chuckle; she couldn't see anyone else in the room with her, but she knew it must be the hob. She rummaged through her desk until she found a box of licorice wands that Fred and George had sent to cheer her up (along with a box of Canary Creams, but she didn't think that Hob would appreciate being turned into a giant canary), and laid one of the wands down beside the fireplace. She turned away, and a moment later, the candy was gone; Tonks smiled.

Hob headed back to his cupboard under the stairs, contentedly munching on the licorice stick. Perhaps the house would not be empty much longer. Sirius was moody because he was lonely (though less so now that his cousin was living with him, but that was only temporary, and besides, a cousin was not the same thing as a wife), and Hob sensed that Lady Blackmore, despite all her power and her outward air of aloofness, was lonely too. They would be perfect for each other, if only they could be made to realize it; Lady Blackmore wouldn't let Sirius get away with sulking and feeling sorry for himself, and Sirius knew how to draw out the normally reserved Lady Blackmore and make her laugh--that is, when he wasn't infuriating her. But they were both very stubborn...Hob sighed; matchmaking wasn't one of Hob's normal duties and he had no idea how to go about it. He chewed thoughtfully, staring at the remainder of the licorice wand. But maybe Miss Tonks would...

***

Blaise Zabini was fine after a night's rest, although of course he remembered nothing of his encounter with the Death Eaters, and his memory of the entire day was a bit fuzzy, but that was just as well. The official story they gave the boy and his housemates was that he'd been ill due to a combination of too many sweets and a touch of fever. Blaise looked a little bewildered, but didn't question that explanation. Snape didn't worry about it too much; even if the boy had suspicions, Blaise was the not the type to voice them publicly, and in any case, Nott would keep him from doing anything foolish. Still, Snape resolved to keep a close eye on Zabini, as he had promised Theodore.

Madam Pomfrey was not pleased with the lie, or with Snape's refusal to tell her who had cast the spell on Blaise; she didn't buy the story about a "juvenile prank," especially since no one had received detention, and Snape was unlikely to let a slight to his House pass unpunished. However, Dumbledore insisted that they keep silent "for the sake of the boy's safety," so she reluctantly acquiesced. She was not a member of the Order, but she knew that these were dangerous times, and she trusted the Headmaster.

Later that day, Snape and Lupin were summoned to the Headmaster's office, and were surprised to find Sirius and Branwen there.

"Sirius!" Lupin said, sounding startled. "Did something happen? Is Tonks all right?"

"Nothing has happened," Dumbledore replied. "I asked Sirius to come here today. Professor Kamiyama has requested a meeting with a representative of the Order."

"Oh," Lupin said, frowning a little, "I hate to leave my classes when they've been progressing so well, but I suppose it can't be helped."

"I can take over for you," Snape volunteered. "How long do you estimate he'll be gone, Headmaster?"

"No, no," Dumbledore said gently. "You misunderstand; I'm sending Sirius."

"You're sending Black on a diplomatic mission?" Snape asked incredulously, and Sirius scowled at him.

"Is that wise, Albus?" Lupin asked dubiously. Then, catching his friend's wounded look, hastily added, "I mean, er, Tonks will be left alone, unable to use her magic," in an attempt to soften his words.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. "I'm sure she'll be fine. The house is well protected, and he'll likely only be gone for a few days."

"Black doesn't even speak Japanese," Snape pointed out.

"And I suppose you do?" Sirius retorted.

"Actually, Black, I do," Snape replied in a cool voice. Sirius's eyes widened with surprise.

"Severus learned while he was working with Naoto on developing the Wolfsbane Potion," Lupin explained, smiling tenderly at Snape, who flushed.

"Oh," Sirius said, giving Snape a startled and thoughtful look. "But Albus tells me that Professor Kamiyama speaks fluent English."

"Some concepts are difficult to translate into another language," Snape said in a slightly haughty tone. "Besides, it's a sign of respect to communicate with someone in their own language."

Sirius looked even more startled at hearing Snape use the word "respect." Lupin repressed a sigh as he wavered between irritation and amusement. "Severus does have a point, Albus," he said. "If we're trying to persuade the Japanese wizards to join our cause, they will be more receptive to someone who is able to converse in their language. It might look disrespectful, even arrogant, if we send someone who can't."

"This is a private meeting with Professor Kamiyama, not with the entire council of wizards," Dumbledore replied, "and he assures me that he will not be offended. He knows that you and Severus are busy with your obligations to your students, so he is agreeable to meeting with Sirius."

"I still think it's a bad idea," Snape muttered, but fell silent after Lupin nudged him in the side with his elbow.

"I'm sure Sirius will do fine, Severus," Dumbledore said, still smiling. "I admit, I might have been a little hesitant to send him on such a mission last year, but I believe that Sirius has gained some maturity since then."

Snape still looked doubtful, but sighed and said, "Well, Kamiyama is a priest, after all, so I suppose he can handle it, though personally I think it would take a saint to put up with--ouch!" He broke off his sentence as Lupin elbowed him in the side again, a little harder this time.

"I've arranged for Sirius to use the Portkey at the Sakura," Dumbledore said, referring to the London-based Japanese restaurant that acted as a secret portal between the two countries. "But before he goes, I thought perhaps you could familiarize Sirius with the local customs, teach him a few polite greetings, that sort of thing."

Snape looked rather put out, but all he said was, "Yes, Headmaster. When is he leaving?"

"In a few days."

"I have some simple phrase and guidebooks you can borrow," Lupin volunteered helpfully. "And I'll loan you my CD player and language CDs!"

"I'm not gonna have time to learn the language in three days," Sirius protested, but Lupin, caught up in his enthusiasm, was already out the door and heading to his quarters.

Snape had to smile at his lover's retreating form in spite of his irritation. "You can concentrate on memorizing the phrases I'll teach you," he told Sirius. "Please, thank you, I'm honored to meet you--that sort of thing. Kamiyama's not really big on formalities, but still, it's best to be polite, and it will probably please the Japanese wizards to see you making an attempt to learn the language, even if you can't speak it well." Sirius nodded, looking about as pleased to be tutored by Snape as Snape was to have to tutor him, but he attentively listened as Snape taught him some formal pleasantries and explained about certain customs, such as removing one's shoes before entering the house, or rinsing one's hands and mouth before entering the temple. Dumbledore and Branwen smiled at the pair like indulgent parents watching their two usually-squabbling children play nicely.

Snape and Sirius shot their former teachers irritated looks in a rare instance of unity. "Get used to sitting and sleeping on the floor," Snape continued as he glared at Branwen, who just smiled back at him sweetly.

"I spent twelve years in a cell at Azkaban," Sirius reminded him. "It'll be heavenly compared to that."

"And it would be polite to bring your host a gift," Snape added.

"All right," Sirius said, carefully keeping his voice civil, although it was a bit of a strain. He was tempted to start an argument just to wipe the smug look off Dumbledore's face, but he supposed that would be childish. Besides, he was finally being given something useful to do after over a year of sitting on his duff, and he wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize that. "What should I get him?"

"Knowing Kamiyama," Snape said dryly, "the largest box of assorted sweets you can find at Honeydukes. Be sure to get him some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."

Sirius gave Snape a suspicious look, wondering if Snape was pulling his leg, but the Potions Master looked perfectly serious. "Okay."

Snape frowned, but more in thought than irritation. "And perhaps I should send a gift to his granddaughter, Miyako. She did send us a warning about her vision of the roses, after all." Though like most visions, it had only become clear in hindsight, but still, she had been trying to help, and however vague, the vision had been accurate. The only problem was, Snape had no idea what sort of gift to get a teenage girl.

Just then, Lupin returned to the office with an armload of books and his CD player and CDs.

"Moony, there's no way I can finish all that before I go!" Sirius objected.

"Then you can take them with you to read and listen to in your spare time," Lupin replied serenely.

"I'd like to send a gift to Miyako--" Snape began.

"You old softie," Lupin said fondly, kissing him on the cheek.

"LUPIN!" Snape snapped, turning red. Branwen and Dumbledore, of course, looked pleased as punch; Black shot Lupin a must-you-do-that-in-public look. "An obligatory gift," Snape huffed, "for sending us that letter of warning during the summer."

"Of course," Lupin said soothingly, his eyes dancing with laughter. "Purely obligatory."

"Exactly," Snape said, giving him a sour look. "But I'm not sure what would be appropriate."

"Hmm," Lupin said thoughtfully. "She's not your average teenage girl."

"You can say that again," Snape muttered. Your "average teenage girl" was not a kitsune-werewolf hybrid, nor a Shinto priestess-in-training.

"I'll take a quick trip to Hogsmeade before Sirius leaves," Lupin said. "If we could find a piece of jewelry shaped like a fox or wolf--like that wolf's head brooch you gave me for Christmas the other year--that would be nice. Or perhaps I can give her one of my carvings."

Snape nodded, and Sirius rose to his feet, carrying Lupin's books and CDs. "I'll be on my way, then," he said. "Just owl the gift or bring it to me before I go." Then he left through the fireplace, almost dropping the stack of books when he had to shift them to one hand to grab a handful of floo powder.

As Lupin and Snape were about to leave the office, Branwen said, "Could I talk to you in private for a moment, Severus?"

"I'll go on ahead, then," Lupin said with a smile. "I'll see you at dinner, Severus."

Part 21