FIC: Phoenix Rising, Part 23 of 37

[geri_chan]

Title: Phoenix Rising, Part 23 of 37
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~10,100
Warning: AU; my own version of Year 6 (was written pre-HBP). Also, non-graphic description of a rape in a flashback.
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn
Summary: Snape argues with his fellow Order members about his efforts to protect his Slytherins; Gilbert reflects on past mistakes; Professor Blackmore's pet raven falls victim to a rather undignified curse.

Thanks to: Orphen Eritus, who originally came up with the idea of a bunny hex.

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, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22


***

Tensions between the Slytherins and the other students escalated as the Death Eaters continued to elude capture; Neville Longbottom was not the only student who had lost family members in the first war. Although the children were too young to really remember their murdered relatives, their parents had impressed on them their fear and hatred of the Death Eaters. Quarrels broke out, and a few hexes were thrown on both sides, which were quickly punished by the teachers. But the hostilities did not cease; they only grew more subtle. Someone put a hex on Serafina's bottle of ink, causing it to explode and splatter ink all over the Slytherin girl and her books in Ancient Runes class; Serafina didn't seem perturbed about the ink that got on her face and robes, but she was quite upset about her ruined books. The culprit was never identified, but a Hufflepuff boy in her class (whose Muggle-born uncle had been killed during the war) went to the hospital wing the next day to get treated for a bad case of warts. And someone tripped Theodore between classes, nearly causing him to tumble down a flight of stairs. Goyle, whose brawn for once came in useful, managed to catch him and save him from possible serious injury. It was the usual mad rush between classes, and no one noticed (or at least, no one would admit to noticing) who had tripped Theodore, but a crowd of Gryffindors had been passing by when it happened. "Serves you right, weasel!" a seventh-year Gryffindor boy sneered, and several of the other students laughed. Apparently word of Theodore's Patronus had spread outside of Lupin's sixth-year class.

Snape was particularly furious about the last incident, and he and the other teachers took to patrolling the halls between classes; Snape made a point of lurking near his Slytherins in a particularly obvious and sinister manner, but he didn't have time to shepherd all his students to their classes, and the other teachers couldn't be everywhere at once, either. The prefects of each House were ordered to be on the alert, but Snape wasn't convinced that all the prefects were entirely innocent. He knew that Miss Granger would turn in one of her own housemates if she caught them up to mischief, but he suspected many of the others would turn a blind eye if that mischief were being carried out against a Slytherin. Branwen began sending Bane out to patrol the halls, and the raven made a very effective hall monitor: he could screech loud enough to wake the dead, and nearly gave the culprit a heart attack when he caught a student about to fling a handful of dungbombs into a crowd of Slytherins. (Snape took great pleasure in sentencing the student, a fourth-year Gryffindor boy, to a week's detention as well as taking twenty points from Gryffindor.) The incidents began to taper off, but the atmosphere remained tense.

All this trouble did, however, give Snape a good excuse to write to the parents of his students and suggest that the children would be safer remaining at school during the holidays where he could keep an eye on them. Of course, this meant that he would have to remain behind as well, but since Lupin was now teaching at Hogwarts, they could still be together, and hopefully it would give Snape an excuse to avoid having to spend another Christmas at Black's house.

Not long after that, Snape received a summons; to his surprise, Dylan apparently had not been summoned along with him, because he spent several anxious minutes in his quarters waiting with Lupin, and the boy did not appear. Feeling relieved that at least he would not have to put Dylan in danger this time, he left the school grounds and Disapparated.

He found himself in the usual place, but this time it was a small gathering, not the full conclave of Death Eaters. It was intimate and casual enough that his comrades had thrown back their hoods, so Snape did likewise. The Averys, Notts, and Malfoys were there, along with Crabbe and Goyle senior, as well as the ever-present Wormtail.

Voldemort smiled at him pleasantly, which immediately filled Snape with trepidation. "Your comrades tell me that you are concerned about the well-being of their children, Severus."

"Yes, my Lord," Snape said respectfully. "There is growing hostility, both among the students and the public at large."

Lucius Malfoy held up the letter Snape had sent to Narcissa. "And you think it would be best if the children remain at Hogwarts during the holidays?"

"Yes, and it might be wise to curtail their Hogsmeade trips as well," Snape replied. "Just to be on the safe side."

"I'll so miss my Draco if he can't come home for Christmas," Narcissa said mournfully. "But if you really think he'd be in danger, Severus--"

"Do you think I can't protect my own son in my own house, Severus?" Lucius asked coolly.

"With all due respect, Lucius," Snape replied, "it is not safe for you to return to your house while the Aurors are looking for you. And if you are not there, you cannot protect him. Of course, the Malfoy manor is well-warded, but there have been incidents...or so I have heard."

Narcissa bit her lip; she had been snubbed and taunted on the rare occasions when she ventured out in public. Suspected sympathizers of the Death Eaters had been harassed and even roughed up; only a few such incidents so far, but they were likely to grow. Vandals had thrown eggs and dungbombs at the residences of suspected and known Death Eaters, and written graffiti ("Murderer," "Death Eater," etc.) on some of the apartments and houses, though of course the estates of the more powerful families like the Malfoys had protection spells strong enough to prevent intruders from venturing onto the grounds.

"Draco wrote that someone tried to push Nott's son down the stairs at Hogwarts," Lucius said pointedly. "Are you sure that Hogwarts is such a safe place?"

"We have cracked down on these so-called pranksters and the number of incidents has drastically decreased," Snape said calmly. "Besides, they're still safer at the school where I can keep an eye on them and things are not likely to progress beyond a few childish hexes. It's only a matter of time before a vigilante murders someone or the Aurors are given free reign to kill again."

"There's no need to mollycoddle my boy, Snape," Thaddeus Nott said coldly, giving the Potions Master a hard, suspicious stare. "He's almost a man; he's old enough to take care of himself, or would be if people would stop being so soft with him." He sneered at his wife, Marta, who looked unhappy, but said nothing and kept her eyes downcast. She was a dark-haired woman who might have been pretty, if not for the lines of strain and worry on her face and a cowed, defeated look in her eyes.

"I assure you, Thaddeus," Snape said dryly, "that no one has ever accused me of being soft on my students." Lucius Malfoy chuckled a little at that.

Nott shot him a quick, sullen glare, but apparently did not want to openly antagonize Malfoy. He turned back to Snape and said, "If you keep the boys at school, they can't carry messages if we need them to."

Snape shrugged, affecting an air of indifference. "Well, you are their parents; the decision is yours. But you did charge me with the task of looking after their safety and best interests, so I am only trying to do as you asked."

"Yes, you have been most diligent in your efforts to look after your students, especially the Rosier boy," Voldemort said smoothly, but there was a dangerous glint to his red eyes. "Surely you are not getting sentimental on us, are you, Severus?"

"Sentiment is for the weak," Snape said coolly, echoing his father's favorite words, for once grateful that they had been drilled into his head as a child so often that it had become almost an automatic response. "I am merely doing my duty, looking after the offspring of my comrades, and more importantly, guarding your possessions, my Lord. For they belong to you, do they not? They are destined to enter your service, so of course I most diligently look after their safety and see to their education, that they might grow up to be proper servants to you."

Narcissa looked a bit offended and disturbed at her son being called a "possession," but her eyes flickered towards the Dark Lord, and she remained silent. Voldemort just laughed, and seemed pacified--for the moment. "Indeed, Severus," he said. "And how are our future Death Eaters shaping up?"

"They show great promise, my Lord," Snape said. "Young Draco, of course, is a talented Potions student, and already adept at the Dark Arts." He nodded in Lucius's direction, and a cold but pleased smile crossed Malfoy's lips. "And Serafina seems to have quite a talent for hexes." Andreas Avery scowled furiously, and his wife Delia, a pale woman with limp, stringy hair somewhere between blonde and brown, cringed. "Theodore seems most promising as well." He couldn't really think of anything positive to say about Crabbe and Goyle, but fortunately, no one, not even their fathers, seemed to expect him to. A thought occurred to him, a potentially dangerous plan, but one that would give him a good excuse to keep the children at Hogwarts and away from their parents. "Of course, if they remain behind during the holidays, they need not be idle," he said in a silky voice. "I could give them private lessons, and..." He paused, as if to consider his words. "...ah, teach them things to prepare them for the duties that await them."

"I have tutored Draco extensively at home, Severus," Lucius said, a slight edge to his voice.

"Of course I am sure that there is not much more I can teach Draco that you have not," Snape said in a mollifying tone, and Lucius looked placated. "But perhaps some of the others could benefit from a little tutoring."

Voldemort had a thoughtful look on his face. "Yes," he said, "perhaps that is wise. Soon they will take their places among us, and they must be ready. See to it, Severus." Voldemort grinned at him, not a very pleasant sight with his white, almost skeletal face and glowing crimson eyes. "You always were one of my most talented disciples, and also very good at teaching your fellow Death Eaters, as I recall." He laughed, "Perhaps you have found your calling as a teacher, after all!"

The Death Eaters laughed along with him nervously, and Snape bowed low and said, "I live to serve you, Master."

Voldemort looked at him closely for a moment, and Snape wondered if he had laid it on a little too thick, although the Dark Lord usually enjoyed, and even expected, extravagant obeisance and flattery. "Yes, you do, Severus--all of you," Voldemort said in a much more quiet and serious voice. "Live to serve me, that is. Never forget that."

"Never, Master!" the Death Eaters all said fervently, kneeling before him.

"Very well, Severus," Voldemort said. "See to the children's education. And you are working on that new batch of Mind Restoration Potion for the Donners?"

"Yes, my Lord, as you ordered."

"Then you are dismissed."

Thaddeus was not pleased, but the Dark Lord had spoken, and there was no contradicting his will. He scowled at Snape and Disapparated. Marta gave him a quick, entreating look, then vanished as well. He was not quite sure what she was asking; to keep Theodore safe, probably--but from whom? The irate public, or the Death Eaters themselves? Crabbe, Goyle, and the Averys left without a word, but Narcissa said, "Please look after Draco, Severus."

"Of course, Narcissa. I always do."

"Come along, dear," Lucius said, a little impatiently. "Severus will watch over Draco as he always has." Narcissa nodded obediently, but flashed Snape a grateful look before Disapparating with her husband, and Snape Disapparated and returned home to Hogwarts.

***

Not long after that, Dumbledore called another Order meeting. Sirius reported on his mission to Japan, and Dumbledore informed them that he was arranging an audience with the Ministry for the Japanese emissaries, as well as more private meetings with select groups of non-humans.

"What if they stir up a rebellion amongst the non-humans?" Dedalus Diggle asked nervously.

"What do you do think Voldemort is doing?" Branwen pointed out impatiently. "If they don't join us, they will likely join his side."

"Yes, but it might be counterproductive if this Karasu gets the non-humans so riled up that the Ministry views them as a threat," Arthur Weasley said thoughtfully.

"I will speak with the emissaries and impress upon them the need for...ah, diplomacy and caution," Dumbledore said. "It is a good idea Professor Kamiyama had, to send non-human wizards and show the Ministry that they can be just as capable and respected as their human counterparts."

"Actually, Satoshi claims that most of the Japanese wizards derive their powers from non-human ancestors," Sirius said. "Naoto himself is a kitsune, of course, and he seems to be a prominent member of their wizards' council. It makes one wonder, whether some us might have had...unusual...ancestors as well." He caught Branwen's eye, and she smiled; her many-times great-grandfather and co-founder of her clan had been a demon.

"I wouldn't be surprised," she said.

Several of the other Order members looked outraged at that, and Shacklebolt said, "I don't think that theory would go over well with the Ministry, and you had best keep it to yourself, Black. There's nothing to be gained in openly antagonizing Fudge and his cronies."

"I'm not stupid, Kingsley," Sirius said, sounding a little offended.

"Could have fooled me," Snape muttered under his breath, then subsided and looked a bit guilty after Lupin kicked him under the table. Dumbledore pretended not to notice, and called on Snape to give his report.

Most of his fellow members were not pleased when they heard what he had to say. "Teaching the Dark Arts is prohibited at Hogwarts!" McGonagall said. "You know that, Severus!"

"Oh please," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "Do you really think that they haven't already been tutored in the Dark Arts by their parents at home?"

"That doesn't mean that you need to encourage them further!" McGonagall snapped.

"Are you sure you remember which side you're on, Snape?" Moody asked suspiciously. "Those 'children' are likely to end up using the spells you teach them against us someday!"

"I'm trying to prevent them from becoming Death Eaters," Snape said coldly.

"Funny way you have of going about it," retorted Moody.

"Potter learned how to cast a Cruciatus Curse from you," Snape shot back. "Oh, excuse me, that was your double."

"Enough!" Dumbledore said, as Moody began turning red with anger. "Save your energy for fighting the enemy, not each other! Now Severus, I understand that you want to protect your students, but I also have some serious reservations about you teaching them Dark Magic."

"Moody has a point," Shacklebolt said in an even voice. "What if your students end up using those spells against us, or against their fellow students, someday?"

"Believe it or not," Snape said angrily, "I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea myself. I know better than anyone the risks involved. But the Dark Lord and my fellow Death Eaters were becoming suspicious of my concern for my students, and this was the only excuse I could think of to allay those suspicions and keep the children away from their parents."

"I trust Severus," Lupin said quietly, "and I think this is the lesser of two evils. Theodore Nott in particular could be in danger from his own family. And Severus says that Serafina Avery's father is abusive as well."

"There is more at stake here than the lives of two children," Moody said. McGonagall and some of the others looked outraged, but several more nodded in agreement.

"Would you be so quick to sacrifice those children if they weren't Slytherins?" Snape asked sharply.

To his surprise, Tonks spoke up in his defense. "It's not right to sacrifice a child, any child, to our cause. That would make us no better than the Death Eaters."

"This is a war," Moody said. "You have to be realistic. It may sound cold-hearted, but are you really willing to risk the outcome of the war for two children? No one's life, not yours, not mine, is worth that."

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Branwen beat him to it. "I don't think that Severus teaching the Slytherins a few Dark spells is going to have a major impact on the outcome of the war, Alastor," she said sharply.

"You never know, Branwen," Moody replied. "What if those children join the Death Eaters and use those spells at a critical moment on the battlefield? What if they use them to attack Potter at school?"

"You're being a bit paranoid, Mad-Eye," Tonks said.

"Paranoia has kept me alive all these years," Moody retorted. "If you'd been a little more paranoid, maybe you wouldn't be wearing that collar around your neck!"

"Now, see here!" Shacklebolt said indignantly, and Sirius looked ready to leap to his cousin's defense as well.

Lupin interrupted before another argument could get started. "I think the possible benefits of Severus's plan outweigh the risks," he said firmly. "Severus will have to teach them some Dark Magic, but they would learn it eventually anyway, from either their parents or Voldemort. And they will be kept at school, away from their parents' influence, and Severus will be able to spend a great deal of time with them, alone and unsupervised. It will give him a chance to steer them away from the Death Eaters and prevent them from making the same mistakes their parents did. Serafina and Theodore would be grateful, I think, to be spared the fate of their parents." Moody and some of the other Order members looked dubious, but Lupin ignored them and continued, "And we were even starting to make some progress with Draco Malfoy, but unfortunately, the Death Eaters' escape and his father's visit in Hogsmeade undid most of our efforts." Lupin sighed. "But still, he has the capacity to change and become a better person than his father, and I think we can get through to him if we try hard enough."

"Lucius Malfoy's child is a lost cause," Moody said contemptuously.

"No child is a lost cause, Alastor!" Branwen snapped, glaring at him.

Moody was one of the few people who could bear her steely gaze without flinching. "You're too sentimental, Branwen," he said. "It nearly got you killed during the first war."

"Funny," Snape said in a cool voice. "The Dark Lord accused me of being too sentimental towards the children as well. Perhaps you and he have more in common than you know."

Moody looked furious, but Dumbledore spoke before he could respond. "Very well, Severus," he said reluctantly. "I'll trust your judgment, but keep me apprised of what you are teaching them and how they are progressing."

"I'll try to stall and hold them back as long as I can," Snape said, "but I will eventually have to teach them something useful, or their parents will become suspicious again."

"Look," said Sirius, "I'm not saying we should sacrifice these kids, but Harry has had to sacrifice a lot, too, being brought up by those nasty relatives of his and being put in danger all the time..."

"I would spare Harry if I could, Sirius," Dumbledore said sadly.

"There is a difference between Potter and my Slytherins," Snape said coolly, but without the scorn his voice usually held when he spoke to Sirius; in fact, Sirius almost thought he detected a hint of sympathy, but it was so faint that he wasn't sure if he was imagining it or not. "The Dark Lord views the Death Eater offspring merely as his possessions; they might become useful to him in the future, but they hold only a passing interest for him at present. Potter, on the other hand, he is most definitely interested in. He was unable to get hold of the prophecy sphere, but he knows enough; he knows that Potter is the only one who has the power to defeat him, so Potter is involved whether we consent to it or not. The Dark Lord does not suffer from any pangs of 'sentiment,' I assure you, and he won't show Potter any mercy because he's a child."

"Maybe Moody's right," Shacklebolt said thoughtfully. "What if You-Know-Who tries to use the Slytherin children to harm Harry?"

Unfortunately, Snape had to admit to himself that it wasn't as remote a possibility as he would like to think. He exchanged looks with the other Hogwarts teachers. "I'll keep a close eye on my Slytherins," he said, "and we should all keep a close eye on Mr. Potter." He turned to Dumbledore and said, "Perhaps you can impress on him the importance of being careful and not wandering off alone." He added in his more normal, waspish voice, "And especially of not sneaking around the campus after-hours?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I'll warn Harry to be careful."

"It would help if we could divert the Dark Lord's suspicions to someone else for a change," Snape said. "I recall that Tonks suggested we try and make it seem as if Gwydion was betraying the Death Eaters. Nothing came of it, because the Dark Lord didn't alert me to the prison break, but it's still a good idea. The Dark Lord was already annoyed that his 'source at the Ministry' didn't let him know that the Aurors were keeping watch on the Rosier estate, so it wouldn't take much more to arouse his suspicions."

Shacklebolt smiled grimly as he stared at the collar on Tonks's neck. "Yes, I agree it's time that we unsettled Gwydion a bit; I think we can arrange that. We can start subtly, by having myself and other Aurors who openly support Dumbledore be seen being quite chummy with our friend Gwydion. Word will probably leak back to You-Know-Who eventually."

"If not, I can make sure that it happens," Snape said with an evil smile.

Shacklebolt grinned back at him conspiratorially. He didn't much like Snape, but for once, they were in complete agreement. "And then perhaps the Aurors can begin showing interest in the Rosier and Donner estates, perhaps hint that we know Karkaroff's dead. I don't suppose you know what he did with the body afterwards?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Pity," said Shacklebolt. "Would've been nice if we could have found it thanks to an 'anonymous tip'..."

"Be careful," warned Dumbledore sternly. "We don't want to jeopardize Severus's safety."

"We'll be careful, Albus," Shacklebolt promised. "We'll move slowly."

The meeting broke up soon after that. Goewin, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the meeting, paused to speak to Snape. "Do you want Dylan to remain at Hogwarts for Christmas, Severus? We all miss him, but if you think it's necessary..."

"It's true there is some danger, but he should be safe enough if he doesn't leave the house. I only wanted to keep the children at school to protect them from their parents, not the public at large. As far as the Death Eaters know, Ariane wouldn't be aware of the Dark Lord's dictate for the children to be 'tutored,' so I can't stop her from taking Dylan home if she insists. It would probably be better if he remained here, but..." Some impulse made Snape reconsider; war could break out at anytime, and there was no guarantee that any of them would survive it. Who knew when Dylan might have another chance to spend time with his family? "Let him go home; I'll deal with the consequences, if there are any."

Lupin suggested, "Perhaps a compromise? Let him spend Christmas at home with his family, but return to school early?"

"I'll talk it over with Math and Ariane," Goewin said. "And Severus--I don't want you tutoring Dylan in the Dark Arts. He's been exposed to enough of that already."

"I doubt I really need to," Snape replied. "Ariane seems to have given him quite an education already. Not many students, even among the Slytherins, know what a Death Strike or a Blood Healing spell is." Goewin looked quite cross at that reminder, and Snape added, "Don't be so hard on Ariane. She made mistakes, but she was not the only one to be fooled by the Dark Lord's promises. At least she finally realized the danger and put Dylan's safety ahead of her own need for power and revenge. She has more sense than Narcissa, who doesn't seem to be aware of the danger her son is in, and more courage than Delia and Marta, who probably are aware, but are afraid to do anything about it, even to save their own children."

Goewin sighed. "I am more angry at myself than Ariane, for not seeing through her act--and Dylan's--before. I should have realized that Ariane would never have so tamely accepted her exile unless she had some plan in mind. And Dylan--he was such a sweet, charming boy from the day he was born. I loved him so much that I never stopped to think that he was too patient, too well-behaved, too good-natured, especially considering the verbal abuse he was subjected to by Deirdre and her sons. A normal child would have lost his temper, shown more open resentment. I was proud that he showed more maturity than his uncles did, but I should have realized that it wasn't natural."

"It wasn't all an act," Lupin said gently. "He loves you and Mathias, and some of the values you tried to teach him stuck with him, despite the secret education Ariane gave him--I know that he didn't learn his tolerance for the Muggle-born from her. During his first year at Hogwarts, he made friends with a Muggle-born girl named Hermione, one of Harry's friends. I think that might have given him second thoughts about his desire to join the Death Eaters."

Goewin smiled. "Ah, that friendship is real, then? I was pleased about it at the time, but after I found out the truth, I thought perhaps it was another act designed to lull our suspicions."

"It's quite real," Snape said, then muttered under his breath, "unfortunately."

"You and Mathias taught him love and compassion," Lupin continued. "Even Ariane, as misguided as her choices were, made them for love, unlike most of the other Death Eaters. Without the three of you, the hatred of his uncles and grandmother might have warped him beyond redemption. Voldemort made a serious mistake when he forced Dylan to join the Death Eaters by threatening his mother, because Dylan made that decision for love, not power or glory or self-interest. He is Marked by the Dark Lord, but his soul is still his own."

Goewin smiled sadly, blinking back tears. "Please watch over him, you two," she whispered.

"We will," Lupin promised, and Snape nodded. Goewin left, and most of the other Order members were already gone. Only Lupin, Snape, Dumbledore, Sirius, Tonks, and Branwen remained in the room.

"I don't like it that the Dark Lord told me that the children will take their places among the Death Eaters 'soon,'" Snape said grimly. "Of course, 'soon' is a relative term for someone who waited for over a decade to regain his body. It could mean next month, it could mean next year." He turned to Lupin. "But it might be wise for you to step up the pace of your Defense class, especially for the fifth and sixth-years."

Lupin nodded solemnly. "I'll do my best, Severus."

"We all will," Dumbledore said gravely.

"I'm proud of you, Severus," Branwen said quietly, taking his hand for a moment. "You've tried so hard to reach your students." She smiled at him, a slightly twisted smile, but it was more sad than bitter. "And you seem to have had more success than I did, twenty years ago."

"That's because they've seen the true face of the Dark Lord," Snape replied just as quietly. "Dylan firsthand, and Serafina and Theodore through their fathers. They don't harbor the same illusions we did back then. And...I couldn't have done it without your example, Branwen."

"I'm not sure that's true, dear," Branwen said, with a more sincere smile this time. "But I'm glad my lectures were not wasted on you."

Sirius felt an odd little twinge of resentment as she kissed Snape on the cheek. He was not jealous, he firmly told himself, only annoyed by her usual pro-Slytherin bias. Yes, that was all it was...

Sirius flushed a little as Branwen gave him a motherly peck on the cheek before departing, and Tonks grinned. "You should stop by for dinner again sometime, Branwen," she called out cheerfully. "On the weekend, perhaps, when you're not busy with classes." Sirius scowled at her ferociously, but but it was too late.

"Thank you, dear," Branwen replied. "I will." She smiled sympathetically, mistaking the intent behind Tonks's invitation, and added, "You must be quite bored and lonely, being cooped up in the house all the time with no company but Sirius and Hob. Perhaps we can make a gathering of it, coax Molly into cooking dinner for us, invite Arthur and the boys as well, of course, and Remus and Severus--"

"Severus is much too busy with school to attend dinner parties," Snape said hastily. "I have to work on the Mind Restoration Potion, not to mention Potter's and Rosier's Occlumency lessons--"

"You can spare a couple of hours for dinner, Severus," Lupin said firmly, linking his arm through Snape's. "Just let us know when, Tonks."

"But Lupin," Snape whined plaintively as his lover dragged him out of the room. Dumbledore and Branwen chuckled to themselves as they departed, and Sirius snickered as Tonks looked quite put out at having her matchmaking attempt subverted.

***

Gilbert Donner sat morosely in his bedroom, staring at the book lying open on his lap, but he had read the same page at least ten times without the slightest recollection of what it said. He sighed and gave up, closing the book and putting it aside. While his brother was at work, Gilbert had little to do but read or spend time with his mother. There was only so much reading he could do in one day, and lately he had been limiting the time he spent around his mother, because keeping up the dull-witted act in front of her was becoming a strain. Now that he had his wits back, he could have gotten a job himself, but there was no safe explanation he could give for his miraculous recovery. Despairingly, he wondered why they had sacrificed so much to regain his intelligence, when they had to keep it a secret from everyone.

But at the time, he had been desperate to retain his sanity, after that first sip of the potion in the Leaky Cauldron, when he had been able to think clearly for the first time in years. Back then, after that first taste of sanity, he would have done anything, up to and including selling his soul, not to sink back into the half-aware stupor he had endured for over a decade. And now Gilbert was terribly afraid that he really had sold his soul...he had been afraid to take up Lucius Malfoy's bargain and become a Death Eater, but he had not put up much of a protest when Gwydion insisted on it. Gwydion was always so sly and clever, surely he would be able to find a way to get them out of it. But Gwydion had outsmarted himself, as he had once before, over twenty years ago...

If only he had never touched Goewin, all this never would have happened, and they would not be in such a mess right now. But Gilbert, having recently graduated from Hogwarts and not yet having found gainful employment, had been at loose ends on his uncle's estate. His mother did not want him to remain idle, so he took over some of the day-to-day responsibilities of running the estate to free up his uncle's time for his work in the Order of the Phoenix. And thus, he had come into contact with Math's young apprentice, Goewin.

Goewin had a rare gift, a type of Sight not seen in generations, but several Donner women had possessed that same gift in the distant past, so she was sent to study under Math, a scholar and historian who had made a study of such things, who had extensive knowledge of the gifts of his ancestors, and who retained most of the Donner histories, diaries, and spellbooks in the library on his estate.

Gilbert had been immediately smitten with the serious, dark-haired girl. Gwydion said dismissively that she was too bookish and priggish for his taste. But Gilbert thought she was more shy than priggish, and he liked the way she always thought before she spoke. When he asked her even a simple question, she seemed to pause and weigh it over in her mind, as if what he was saying was of the utmost importance, and that was something new for Gilbert. He dearly loved his twin, but at times felt overshadowed by him: Gwydion was handsome, dashing, and clever. He was a talented mage, and everyone said he was destined for great things, while Gilbert's powers were mediocre in comparison. Gwydion was quick-witted and smooth with the women, who seemed to fling themselves at him in droves; Gilbert found himself tongue-tied around the girls that he liked, who never seemed to notice him when Gwydion was around, anyway. But Goewin was always kind to him, and always seemed to be interested in what he had to say, and best of all, she never looked at him with disappointment as his mother often did, as if he would never live up to his brother's example. In fact, Goewin didn't seem to much like Gwydion, and preferred Gilbert's company to that of his brother's. "He's a little full of himself," she had once said apologetically. Gilbert had loyally denied it, but felt a bit of guilty pleasure at her words.

They were the only two young people on the estate, so it was only natural for them to strike up a friendship and spend time together when they weren't busy with their respective duties. They would talk or just read quietly together in the library, or go for walks in the garden. And soon, at least on Gilbert's part, friendship developed into something more. He tried to fight his feelings, because he knew that her gift as an Oracle required her to remain chaste, but the more he fought them, and the more he avoided her, the stronger those feelings became.

One day they were walking through the garden together, and although she was speaking to him, he had no idea what she was saying, because he was so captivated by the way the sunlight was falling across her face, and by how soft and full her lips looked. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

For a moment, she kissed him back, then pulled away and said in horror, "Gilbert! We can't do this!"

"I love you, Goewin," he said, pulling her close and kissing her again. "I'm sorry, I've tried to fight it, but I can't! I love you, I want you, I need you--"

"Let me go!" she cried. When he didn't, she kicked him hard in the shin, and he yelped in pain and released her. "Gilbert, are you out of your mind?!" she shouted. Her expression softened slightly at the hurt look on his face, and she said more kindly, "You know we can't do this. We cannot be more than friends, because my gift requires me to remain chaste. I cannot throw that away for a moment's pleasure."

"I'm not talking about a moment's pleasure!" Gilbert said indignantly. "Do you think me such a cad? I'd never dishonor you that way; marry me and be my wife!"

Goewin's look of sympathy turned into one of anger. "Didn't you hear what I said? Marriage or one-night stand, it makes no difference! If I lose my virginity, I will lose my Sight!"

"I don't care about that!" Gilbert cried.

"Well, I do!" Goewin retorted. "How can you be so selfish, Gilbert? Why do you think Math has spent so much time and effort on training me? My Sight could make a difference in the war! I might be able to save lives, maybe even find a way to defeat Voldemort! And you would throw that all away, sacrifice all those lives just to satisfy your own personal desires? Grow up, Gilbert, and do your duty as a wizard!" He just stood there, stricken, and she added in a kinder voice, "I won't tell Math about this, and we will never speak of this again, understand?" He nodded dumbly, and she turned and walked back to the house. In the days that followed, she was still polite and friendly to him, but they no longer went for walks in the garden, and she took care never to be alone with him, always contriving some excuse to have Math or one of the servants around whenever he came by to see her.

The next time Gwydion came to visit, a despondent Gilbert had poured out his heart to his brother. "That bitch!" Gwydion said viciously. "She couldn't even turn you down kindly!" And Gilbert had let Gwydion's rage fuel his own anger, turning sorrow into bitter resentment. He had confessed his love to her, after all, and offered her honorable marriage into one of the most respected and powerful pureblood families in Britain, one that ranked considerably above her own. Who was she to turn him down?! And even if she was so duty-bound, she could have turned down his proposal more nicely; she didn't have to call him selfish! And somehow, he had let himself be talked into taking part in Gwydion's plan to "make Goewin yours, whether she wills it or not. I'll see to it that your desires are satisfied, and then if you still want to marry her--though I don't know why you'd want such a harpy for a wife--she'll have no choice. She will never find another husband; no man of rank will marry a despoiled maiden."

Some small part of Gilbert's conscience knew that what he was doing was wrong, but he followed his brother's lead as he had all his life. Gwydion sent his uncle an anonymous tip about a planned Death Eater attack, and Math immediately set off to gather some of his fellow Order members and deal with it. By the time he figured out the tip was false, it would be too late. Gwydion chased away the servants, both human and house-elf, and broke into Goewin's room. Startled, she reached for her wand, but not fast enough. He disarmed her with with an Expelliarmus spell, then immobilized her with an Impediment Curse. Then he grinned and said, "Have fun, brother," and left the room, closing the door behind him. He stood guard outside the room, and none of the servants dared challenge such a powerful mage.

But Gilbert had found little satisfaction in the act. Goewin managed to partially shake off the curse--not enough to free herself, but just enough to enable her to scream and struggle and make the whole experience thoroughly unpleasant for Gilbert. He finished quickly, and felt sick and ashamed afterwards, as he looked down at Goewin's tear-streaked face, her eyes full of shame and anger and betrayal. "I loved you," he said helplessly. "I would have married you." She spat in his face.

As she struggled to sit up and pull the torn remains of her robes around her, Gwydion walked in and said coldly, "If you are wise, you will keep your mouth shut, girl. You are useless to my uncle without your Sight, and no man of rank will marry you if they know you are damaged goods."

"Don't you think Math will notice that I can no longer See?" Goewin retorted, her eyes filled with hatred.

"Surely you can make up a few visions; fortune-tellers do it all the time," Gwydion said carelessly.

"Don't you care about the men and women who might die in the war if I feed the Order false information?" Goewin shouted.

"They can win the war without your visions," Gwydion sneered. "Divination is an all but useless gift, anyway, vague prophecies and mumbo-jumbo that never become clear until after the fact. You should be more concerned about your own fate, Goewin--an Oracle without Sight is useless as a mage, and you are useless to your family if you cannot make a good marriage."

Gwydion left the estate, taking Gilbert with him. "Just in case she's stupid enough to open her mouth, we had better make ourselves scarce till Uncle Math cools down. Now might be a good time to take a trip to Europe."

Despite Gwydion's threats, Goewin told Math about the rape, and he invoked a Geas spell to bring them back to Wales. It was almost impossible for a mage to invoke Geas without actually touching the subject of the spell, but Math was a powerful mage, and there were ties of blood between himself and his nephews, and he could have searched their rooms for personal belongings or strands of their hair to magnify the connection between them. Whatever he did, it worked. The two men stood unwillingly before their uncle, Gilbert shamefaced and Gwydion defiant. Goewin was there as well, gazing at them coldly, and Deirdre, who looked angry and tearful at the same time.

"You should both be sent to Azkaban for your crimes," Math said, his normally kindly gray eyes grim and merciless. "But I cannot let Goewin's reputation be destroyed because of your wrongdoing. I will marry her, to restore her honor, and give to her all my lands and wealth in compensation for your crime." Deirdre looked furious at that, but made no protest, so this agreement must have been arranged in advance between them. Gilbert had little time to be outraged at the thought of his uncle marrying his former beloved, because Math took out his wand and said, "You behaved no better than brute animals, so animals you will be for three years: one year as deer, one year as pigs, and the final year as wolves. I pray you will have learned to value your humanity at the end of that time, for it seems to me you value it little at present." Then Math raised his wand and shouted out an incantation.

Gilbert and Gwydion were transfigured into deer--not just their bodies, but their minds as well. As Gilbert stood there, balancing awkwardly on four legs, feeling his human intelligence slowly draining away, he heard the sound of a hound barking, one of the hunting dogs that lived on the estate. The sound filled him with terror as his animal instincts took over, and he bounded away for the shelter of the forest, followed closely by Gwydion.

For three years, he lived as an animal, with the deer's constant need to be on alert, never relaxing, always ready to run at the first sign of danger. His boar form was less timid, but he was still driven by animal hunger, rooting on the ground for food, and by the boar's quick temper, rushing to attack and defend his territory against intruders. Some small part of him remained human enough to tolerate Gwydion's presence by his side, though. And as a wolf he knew the need to hunt, the hunger of an empty belly when his prey eluded him, and the fierce joy when he took a down a deer, snapping his jaws around its throat, and the sweet taste of blood in his mouth. Some small part of him, which remembered the year he had spent as a deer, recoiled in horror, but that didn't stop the wolf from tearing into the animal's corpse and gulping down the sweet, still-hot flesh.

And there was another animal instinct...but Gilbert tried not to think about it. He might have rutted as an animal; he wasn't sure, but he thought he recalled a different kind of hunger being aroused in the boar as a wild sow crossed his path... Gilbert shuddered and shook his head, praying that there were no deer, pigs, or wolves running through the forest with Donner blood in their veins.

Gilbert's mind returned to the present. What good was his restored intelligence, he wondered bitterly, when it seemed that all it was good for was recalling memories that he would rather forget, and allowing him to brood over the Mark on his arm, a permanent reminder of one of the many foolish choices he had made over the years. The return of his sanity had brought him no happiness, only misery, and part of him longed to return to his former state of oblivion, which now seemed like more of a gift than a curse. He had briefly entertained thoughts of killing himself, but his brother would still be bound to the Death Eaters, and all Gwydion had sacrificed for him would be for naught. Besides, Gilbert suspected he was too much of a coward to actually carry out the act. A stronger man would have been able to resist the temptation of a beautiful girl, and a more honorable man would never have raped her. He was not sure now if he had really loved Goewin or if he had merely been infatuated. Either way, he had ruined both their lives, as well as Gwydion's, for nothing. Over the years, he had been filled with a sense of fear and hatred whenever he saw her, but now that he could think clearly once again, Gilbert realized that it was not Goewin, but himself, that he hated...

***

Tensions between Slytherin and the other Houses, particularly Gryffindor, continued to run high. The Slytherins tended to consider the dungeon their domain, so when Brad Doherty reported one day that he'd seen a bunch of Gryffindors--including Harry Potter--heading down to one of the lower dungeon levels one evening, Draco rounded up a group to investigate. Crabbe and Goyle were at his side as usual, but Theodore had gone to the library with Blaise, so Draco ordered Dylan and Damien to come with him. After a moment's hesitation, he allowed an eager Brad to tag along as well.

They found Potter, Hermione, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom in one of the workrooms adjacent to the Incantations and Summonings classroom.

"Just what do you think you're doing here, Potter?" sneered Draco.

"We have permission from Professor Blackmore to be here," snapped Potter.

"We're practicing drawing protective circles," Hermione added in a more polite tone.

"So why don't you buzz off, Malfoy?" Ron Weasley said curtly as his sister and Hermione gave him disapproving looks.

"Why don't you make me, Weasley?" Draco said with a nasty smile, slipping his hand into his pocket to grasp his wand.

"Don't tempt me, Malfoy!" Weasley snarled, reaching for his own wand. Potter did likewise, as his Gryffindor friends watched nervously.

"Stop it, Ron!" Hermione said sharply. "Do you want to lose more points for Gryffindor? Do you want to get detention so close to your next Quidditch match?" She said to Draco in a slightly conciliatory tone, "Look, we don't want any trouble. All we want to do is practice for Professor Blackmore's class. Haven't both Slytherin and Gryffindor gotten into enough trouble fighting as it is?"

But her reasonable tone only served to make Draco angrier. "I don't take orders from a Mudblood!"

"You take that back!" Weasley snapped, raising his wand.

"Ron!" protested Hermione.

"You're a fine one to talk," Potter said, jumping into the fray. "You've got no right to be throwing insults around, when your dad's a common criminal!"

Draco's pale face turned red, and his gray eyes took on a dangerous gleam. "Don't you dare talk about my father that way, you...you...half-blood!"

"The high and mighty Lucius Malfoy, a fugitive on the run," Weasley taunted. "I can't wait till the Aurors catch him!"

"I'll make you eat those words, Weasley," Draco snarled, pointing his wand at Weasley. "They'll never catch him! He and the Death Eaters will kill all you lot of Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers!" He sneered at Potter. "Just like they killed your parents!" Potter's face turned red with anger.

Crabbe and Goyle grasped hold of their wands but did not draw them. They were not usually so reluctant to follow Draco's lead in fighting with the Gryffindors, but they showed rare good sense in being very scared of Professor Blackmore, and this room was dangerously close to her office. Brad watched the confrontation eagerly, and Damien anxiously, but neither boy seemed eager to draw their wands either.

"Please stop, Draco," Dylan said nervously. "You're going to get in trouble; if Professor Blackmore catches us--"

"Since when did you turn into such a little priss, Rosier?" Draco sneered, giving him a contemptuous look, as if asking how a Death Eater could be so concerned about a little detention.

"Even Snape is afraid of Blackmore," Dylan retorted. "Doesn't that tell you something?!"

Meanwhile, Hermione was pleading with her friends, with just as little success. "Ron, you're a prefect! You have to set an example! Harry, just ignore him--who cares what he thinks? He's just trying to get you into trouble!"

The boys pointed their wands at each other, just as Dylan heard the sound of a raven cawing. "NO--STOP!!" he shouted, not sure whether he was talking to the three boys or to the raven, but either way, it was too late. Bane flew into the room, scolding them in his hoarse, croaking voice, and inadvertently flew straight into the line of fire and was simultaneously hit with three curses.

There was a loud squawk, and Bane's form was obscured by a sudden puff of smoke. Startled, the boys jerked their wands back. They heard a soft "thump!"--like the sound of a small body hitting the ground. The smoke cleared, revealing a large bunny rabbit, its fur as sleek and black as a raven's feathers. It was plump and cuddly-looking, except for its eyes, which were beady and black like Bane's, and glaring furiously at everyone in the room.

There was a long, horrified silence, which was finally broken by Goyle. Slow-witted though he was, it was obvious even to him that they were all in big trouble. "Uh-oh," he said in a small voice.

Just then, Professor Blackmore strode into the room, saying in her usual imperious voice, "All right, what's going on here?" The Slytherins hastily distanced themselves from their leader, retreating to the far corner of the room to cower in fear. Dylan, Damien, and Brad tried to hide themselves behind Crabbe's and Goyle's bulky forms, while at the same time, Draco's two henchmen tried to hide behind their younger classmates. Finally, the boys settled on huddling together side-by-side in the corner, like one quivering mass of flesh. The Gryffindors were likewise putting as much space as possible between themselves and Potter and Weasley; even Hermione took a step back. Blackmore saw the bunny sitting in the middle of the room and gave it a puzzled look. "Where did this rabbit come from?" she asked.

The rabbit let out a shrill, earsplitting screech, and all the children hastily clapped their hands over their ears. Blackmore's eyes flew wide open and she bent down to look more closely at the rabbit. "B-Bane?" she stammered.

The bunny screeched again, and began jumping up and down in an agitated manner. The phrase "hopping mad" suddenly popped into Dylan's head, and he had to quickly clamp his hands over his mouth to stifle a surge of hysterical laughter. He definitely did not want to attract Blackmore's attention right now; he was quite certain that she would not find the situation one bit amusing.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY FAMILIAR?!" Blackmore shrieked, and that instantly banished Dylan's desire to laugh. Crabbe and Goyle flung their arms around each other, clinging together as they whimpered in terror, and Damien and Dylan huddled a little closer together as well. Despite all the terrible things he had seen since being forced to join the Death Eaters, Dylan found himself trembling, and he could feel his friend trembling as well. Brad, who had never been particularly friendly with either Dylan or Damien, suddenly pressed close to them, whimpering like a puppy wanting to be comforted, and Dylan didn't have the heart to push him away.

"Oh man, we are so dead!" Damien moaned softly.

Weasley had turned white and was babbling incoherently, and Draco and Potter pointed at each other and said, "He started it!"

That was a mistake, because Blackmore turned her gaze on them, and both boys scuttled backwards several steps. Her face was white, her green eyes were filled with rage, and there was a palpable aura of power around her, just barely held in check, like a volcano about to explode. She spoke in a quiet, deadly voice, biting off her words in clipped phrases. "I. Want. To know. What. Happened. Here."

"It was an accident--" Potter began, while Draco protested, "It's all Potter's fault!"

"Shut up!" Blackmore snapped, and they instantly fell silent. She pointed first at the crowd of Gryffindors, then at the Slytherins and said, "Granger. Rosier." Dylan and Hermione very reluctantly stepped forward. She nodded at Hermione to begin.

"W-well, Draco was m-making some nasty comments about Mudbloods," Hermione stuttered nervously. "And he said the Death Eaters would kill all the Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers."

Blackmore turned to look at Dylan. Under her steely gaze, he didn't bother to try and contradict Hermione's statement, despite the pleading look Draco was giving him. He just picked up where Hermione had left off, saying, "Then Potter and Weasley started taunting Draco about his dad being a criminal."

"Then Draco raised his wand--"

"So did Potter and Weasley--"

"And...well...Bane flew into the room and got hit by the curses," Hermione finished.

"And what were the rest of you doing while this was going on?" Blackmore coldly asked the cowering groups of Gryffindor and Slytherin students.

"Hermione tried to stop us," Potter said, in a slightly quavering voice, and Dylan had to grudgingly admire his bravery, because if he had been in Potter's shoes, he would be trying to attract as little attention to himself as possible.

"Dylan tried to stop it, too," Hermione added loyally, and Dylan shot her a grateful look.

Blackmore walked over to the fireplace, grabbed a fistful of powder from a jar that sat on the mantle, and flung it onto the cold, unlit hearth. Green flames flared up for a moment, and she shouted, "Professor McGonagall! Severus Snape! I want to talk to you RIGHT NOW!"

Snape emerged from the fireplace a moment later, brushing ashes off his robe, followed by McGonagall. "Professor Blackmore?" he asked, eyeing her warily, looking almost as nervous as his own students.

McGonagall looked less intimidated, and just said in a puzzled tone, "What's wrong, Branwen?" Then she saw Draco, Potter, and Weasley standing in the middle of the room with their wands out. "I might have known," she sighed.

Blackmore scooped up the black bunny rabbit and cradled him in her arms protectively. "Look what your students have done to my familiar!" she shouted.

"That's Bane?" McGonagall asked incredulously. "Oh my goodness!" Then her face took on a thoughtful look, and she said musingly, more to herself than to Blackmore, "I had no idea Potter and Weasley were capable of performing such an advanced transfiguration."

Bane squealed in outrage, and Blackmore stamped her foot on the ground in a petulant manner. "You can hand out points to Gryffindor later! I want satisfaction for what they've done!"

Snape's black eyes widened as he bent down to examine Bane more closely, hesitantly running a finger along the transformed familiar's sleek black fur. "Oh...my," he said, and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he were trying not to smile.

Blackmore noticed, of course. "I fail to see the humor in the situation, Severus," she said in an icy voice.

"A pity it isn't closer to Easter," Snape said, his lips still twitching, and Dylan's jaw dropped open. Had Snape just made a joke?! If so, neither Blackmore nor Bane found it very funny. Bane hissed and opened his mouth wide, exposing long, white incisors. Snape hastily pulled his hand back, warning, "If you bite me, Bane, I swear you'll never get another treat from me, ever!" The rabbit closed his mouth, and grunted irritably.

"I want them punished!" Blackmore screeched, and Dylan watched in amazement. Of course he had not known her very long, but he had never seen her completely lose her composure like this before, and judging by the expressions on their faces, neither had McGonagall or Snape.

"Yes, yes," Snape said soothingly. "I'll give Malfoy detention, of course..."

"Not good enough!" Blackmore snapped, glaring at both Snape and McGonagall. "I want them turned over to me personally, Slytherin and Gryffindors alike!"

All three boys turned sheet-white, and McGonagall smiled, looking extremely amused, and said, "Done!"

Malfoy gave Snape a beseeching look; Snape just gazed back at him coolly, then turned to Blackmore and said, "Very well, but please don't do any permanent damage to him. I promised his mother I'd look after him, you see..." Malfoy stared at him, a look of wounded betrayal in his eyes; Snape ignored him. "But before you start handing out punishments, perhaps we should restore Bane to normal?"

Bane made a huffy little noise, and gave Snape a look that clearly said, "Well, it's about time!" Snape's lips twitched in that almost-smile again, and he took out his wand, tapped Bane lightly with it, and said, "Finite Incantatum." Nothing happened; Bane still rested in Blackmore's arms, a fuzzy black bunny.

"Uh-oh," Goyle said again.

Snape began to look alarmed. "Finite Incantatum!" he repeated, with the same result. "Minerva?" he asked. "You're the expert in Transfigurations, perhaps if you try..."

All three Professors tried repeatedly to restore Bane to his original form, with no success. Bane let out a loud, anguished squeal. Blackmore looked absolutely livid. She handed Bane to Snape and took out her wand.

"That's it, we're dead," Weasley whimpered.

"Branwen!" McGonagall cried. "You can't attack a student!"

"Just watch me," she said grimly.

Snape looked a little ill at ease, holding the bunny awkwardly; he clearly had little experience in handling cuddly creatures. Dylan might have laughed if the situation hadn't been so tense. "If you kill them now, Branwen," Snape pointed out, "we might never be able to change Bane back. We need to find out what they did to him before we can break the enchantment."

Bane squealed at her urgently, and Blackmore reluctantly pocketed her wand. "I suppose you're right," she sighed. Turning to Draco, Potter, and Weasley, she said, "My office. Now!" She turned on her heel and walked out the door, followed reluctantly by the three boys, who looked as though they were heading to their executions. McGonagall and Snape--who was still carrying Bane-the-bunny--brought up the rear.

"Why am I still holding the rabbit?" Snape complained, and Bane hissed at him.

Part 24