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FIC: Phoenix Rising, Part 31 of 37
Title: Phoenix Rising, Part 31 of 37
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin
Word count: ~8,940
Warning: AU; my own version of Year 6 (was written pre-HBP).
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thought
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6), Summer Vacation (Part 1, Part 2), For Old Time's Sake (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5), Three's a Crowd (or, Summer Vacation II) (Part 1, Part 2), Return of the Raven (Part 1, Part 2), Phoenix Reborn (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8)
Summary: Snape works to win Serafina's trust, and Lupin tries to persuade a pack of werewolves to ally with the Order.
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, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30
***
Goewin was about five months pregnant, her belly now forming a visible bulge beneath her robes. She finally understood how Dylan and Ariane must have felt, being virtual prisoners on the estate for so many years; she had not left the house since she had found out about her pregnancy, and felt like she was going to go stark raving mad from boredom and staring at the same walls day after day after day. Of course her family tried to support her: Dylan sent her letters every week from school; Ariane was being kinder to her than normal; and Math hovered over her so solicitously, not wanting her to exert herself in the slightest, that she had to remind him that she wasn't made of glass. She occupied herself with reading, decorating the baby's nursery, and, of course, trying to interpret the visions her unborn daughter was sending her.
The morning sickness had ceased, and Goewin was trying to get enough food and rest to keep the baby healthy, but the nightmares she had almost every night made that difficult, and she could not take a sleeping draught, because Severus and Madam Pomfrey said it would be bad for the baby. She dreamed of blood and battles, dreamed of Dylan and his friends fighting on the battlefield. Sometimes she saw Math and Ariane there as well. But recently she had begun to have different dreams...
"You look so pale, my dear," Math said in a concerned voice one morning. "Another nightmare?"
Goewin nodded. "I saw a serpent and a lion entwined together--as if locked in an embrace or in combat, I'm not sure which. Both, maybe."
"Gryffindor and Slytherin?" Ariane guessed. "Or the Dark Lord and Harry Potter, perhaps, locked in a deadly embrace?"
"I don't know," Goewin said wearily. "But I suppose you should pass it along to the Order."
"We will," Math said. "Did you See anything else?"
"No," Goewin lied. Lately she had begun having dreams even more disturbing than the earlier ones: herself, lying bound on an altar in a dark room, or on the ground in the middle of a circle inscribed with the runes and symbols meant for a blood sacrifice. In her dreams she was surrounded by chanting Death Eaters; sometimes she could see her nephews' gray eyes through the slits in their hoods. Sometimes Voldemort killed her and her baby, which was bad enough, but in the very worst ones, he took her baby from her dying body, and her dream-self knew that he was going to raise it as his own, twisting the innocent child to his own evil purposes. Those were the dreams that caused her to jerk awake, soaking in sweat; once she had woke up screaming, but when Math asked her what was wrong, she had said only that she had seen Voldemort winning the war in her dream. What would be the point in telling him the truth, after all? This estate was one of the most well-guarded residences in Britain, and her husband was one of the most powerful mages in the world. There was little more anyone could do to make her safer than she already was, so telling Math about the dreams would only make him worry needlessly. She would mention them only if she saw some way in which they could be prevented. Maybe as the baby grew older, the dreams would become clearer...although Goewin was not sure if she wanted to see them.
***
As the weeks passed, Snape was kept very busy with his duties to the school, to the Order, and to the Dark Lord; it was not easy, sometimes, serving two masters. In addition to his normal lessons, he was still tutoring Potter and Dylan in Occlumency, and the Death Eater offspring in the Dark Arts, although he had reduced their lessons to no more than once every week or two--for fear of arousing suspicions, he told Draco when the boy began chafing at the slow pace of those lessons. He and Dylan had been summoned a couple of times, when the Dark Lord wanted Dylan to harvest more of the rose blossoms for him, and the last time, Voldemort had also wanted to "harvest" Dylan's blood. He nicked the boy's wrist with a knife, and filled a small flask with the blood; enough to make Dylan go a little pale, but not enough to make him faint. The boy had borne it without flinching or otherwise showing any fear, which made Snape proud of him, but he worried about what uses the Dark Lord might put that blood to. Most likely to try and harness the power of the roses himself, but as any experienced mage knew, it was dangerous to allow part of your essence to fall into the hands of an enemy. A simple strand of hair had caused Tonks so much trouble when a Death Eater had used it in a Polyjuice Potion to impersonate her, and blood could be put to even worse uses; there were many Dark Spells that allowed the caster to inflict harm upon someone if he had a little of the victim's blood. But there was nothing Snape could do except to worry, and wait. Sometimes the waiting drove him crazy; he had been waiting for over fifteen years for the war to reach its final conclusion. Yet at the same time, he dreaded the day of the final battle, because no one, not even a Seer such as Miyako or Goewin, knew how it would end.
He was kept very busy brewing potions in his workshop; there was the Mind Restoration Potion to be brewed for the Donner brothers, and Voldemort continued to request a steady supply of Strengthening Solution and Elixir of Vitality. In addition to this, he of course had to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin, and the Headmaster had requested that he begin brewing it in greater amounts. He was trying to win over the non-humans--or at least the werewolves--with a gesture of good faith, it seemed. Snape was beginning to feel stretched thin, so he drafted Dylan's help. Since his uncles' status among the Death Eaters was no longer a secret, it was safe for Snape to explain to Dylan about the Mind Restoration Potion and how it was brewed--although Snape smiled a little at the irony of turning their work for the Death Eaters into a lesson. But the boy might as well learn something while he was working; no knowledge was ever wasted, so the saying went. He also had Dylan help him with the Wolfsbane Potion.
The boy found the work challenging and enjoyable, but as always, he was quick to pick up on details that other students might have overlooked. "Why are we brewing so much of this?" Dylan asked. "Surely Professor Lupin can't drink all this in one month! It looks more like a year's supply!"
Snape sighed, torn between pride and irritation at the boy's quick wit; he really was too clever for his own good sometimes. "It is shortsighted, Rosier," Snape said in his usual cold voice, "to make only enough to last for the current month. What would happen if I fell ill and could not brew next month's supply, or if the current batch was somehow ruined? Unlikely, you might say, but I prefer to be prepared for the unexpected. I want to always have a more than adequate supply on hand; the consequences of Lupin missing his potion could be devastating."
"Yes, Professor," Dylan said meekly, looking properly chastised, and asked no more questions about the Wolfsbane Potion. But Snape had no doubt that behind that meek look, the boy's mind was still puzzling over the matter and drawing its own conclusions--possibly even the correct one.
Snape also tutored Serafina in her anti-healing lessons, as Voldemort had ordered. At their first session, Snape explained how she had been using her Healing Gift in reverse.
"Professor Chizuru also told me that, sir," she said quietly. "She was most distressed. She said a healer must never use their Gift that way, that it's evil."
"Evil is relative, Serafina," Snape said in a dry voice. "I'm not saying that you should use it lightly--and indeed, I shall punish you most severely if I catch you using your Gift to play pranks on your classmates." It wasn't very likely that the girl would abuse her Gift in such a way (although no doubt Draco would if he had it), but the warning came out of his mouth almost automatically. Serafina just nodded obediently. "But," Snape continued, "if your life were in danger, I wouldn't advise you to ponder the morality of using your Gift to inflict harm--at least not until after the danger had passed."
Serafina gave him a thoughtful look and then nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Did Professor Chizuru explain how healing magic works?"
"Yes, sir. Energy flows through the body in a certain pattern; she calls them 'meridians.' When a person is ill or injured, the healer directs the flow of energy to the sick or injured parts of the body, thereby encouraging the body to heal itself faster."
"Very good. And if you should disrupt this flow of energy?"
"Depending on how severely and how long you disrupted the flow of energy, it could cause any reaction between mild discomfort and death," Serafina replied in a toneless voice.
"Demonstrate for me upon this rat," Snape instructed her.
She cast the spell, one similar to the Aperio spell, that enabled her to see the natural energy of a living being. She was still a beginner at healing magic, but she was able to disrupt the energy flow, sending it off in random directions. The rat began to tremble, then make little squeaks of distress. As it began to go into convulsions and a tiny thread of blood began to leak out of its mouth, she asked in an expressionless voice, "How long do you want me to keep this up?"
"You may stop now," Snape said, watching her carefully. Serafina immediately broke off the spell, and the rat lay on its side, gasping for breath. "You didn't like doing that," Snape observed in a conversational tone.
"No," she replied, almost defiantly, and Snape blinked in surprise at that rare hint of emotion. "But I am able to do things I do not like."
Snape smiled, just the slightest upward curving of one corner of his mouth, but Serafina noticed, and it was her turn to stare at him in surprise. "Good," he said.
"Good that I don't like doing it?" Serafina asked, staring at him intently. "Or good that I'm able to do it even though I don't like it?"
"Both," Snape replied, and the girl's eyes grew even wider. This was deadly serious business, but Snape felt pleased that he'd broken through her shell a little. By now he was certain that she had no wish to join the Death Eaters, but she could still put his cover and his life in jeopardy if she let it slip to her parents that Severus Snape did not revel in pain and torture like a good Death Eater should. However, he could not win her over without taking certain risks, and she wasn't really the type to go gossiping carelessly about it; he had never observed the girl at her home, but he was quite sure that she was just as taciturn there as she was at school. "I don't wish for you to enjoy it, but neither do I want you to be so squeamish that you can't perform these spells if it becomes necessary." She remained silent, so he continued, "You did very well, but of course it is much easier to perform these spells on a small creature like a rat than on a human. And you are much more likely to need to protect yourself from a human than a rat."
"And you are teaching me these spells solely for my protection?" Serafina asked, with just a hint of sarcasm. Snape was pleased rather than annoyed, because it was a sign that she'd begun to trust him, or at least he hoped so. She had never let her guard down this much before.
"It is one of the reasons," Snape said softly.
"And the others?" Serafina persisted.
"My reasons are my own," Snape said, quietly but firmly. "As what you do with these spells is up to you."
For just a second, the girl's mask slipped, and he saw shock, hope, fear, and suspicion all mingled on her face. Then her normal blank expression was back on her face. She looked down at the rat and said in her usual toneless voice, "I think it will die unless I heal it," as if it didn't matter to her one way or the other.
"It was destined for the Owlery," Snape said casually, but he was very interested to see what she would do next. "However, you may heal it if you wish."
"No point, if it's just going to be eaten," she said; she seemed to be watching for his reaction just as carefully as he was watching for hers.
Snape shrugged. "Then put it out of its misery. Or...you can keep it, if you like. Losing one rat won't cause the owls to die of starvation."
He had startled her into showing an emotional reaction. "Wh...what would I do with a rat?" she asked, looking a little flustered.
"You don't have a familiar, do you? Every student is allowed to bring a toad, rat, owl, or cat to school."
She stared down at the rat, then lifted her wand and cast the healing spell. It sniffed at her hand, seeming to understand that she had relieved its pain, and she hesitantly stroked it with one finger. Then she suddenly jerked her hand away and said, "No! I can't keep it!"
Snape was startled to hear such a vehement response from her. "Why not?" he asked.
She looked visibly upset for the first time in all the years he had been teaching her. "Because...because...I can't keep a pet! It would make me look soft! If you care about something, people can use it against you as a weapon!"
Snape felt a sudden stab of pain at hearing her words, so similar to the words his father had drilled into his head as a child, that only weak people were ruled by sentiment. He had spent most of his life fighting his feelings for Lupin because he had feared being weak and giving someone else control over him, because Slytherins were taught that emotions were a weapon to be used like any other. He wondered despairingly if every Slytherin child held that belief, that loving someone created a hostage to fortune that an enemy could use against you. No, some of his Slytherins were soft and spoiled, but Draco was probably the only one among the Death Eater offspring who had not yet learned that lesson firsthand.
"We are talking about more than a rat, I think," Snape said in a gentle voice that none of his students other than Dylan had ever heard. Maybe that was what shocked her into opening up to him, or maybe she was simply near her breaking point. Snape knew better than anyone what it cost to always keep your emotions hidden, showing nothing to the outside world, no matter how much you wanted to shout or scream or cry...
"When I was seven," Serafina said, shaking a little, "the neighbor's cat had kittens, and they gave me one. A proper familiar for a young witch. He was all black except for a white spot on his chest, and I named him Grimalkin, Grim for short. He followed me around everywhere, slept on my bed at night. He loved me, and I loved him, and I made the mistake of letting my father see that. One day I was petting Grim while he lay in my lap, and my father came and snatched him up. He said that a familiar wasn't a pet to be babied and coddled, and that I'd never become a Death Eater if I could go so soft, especially over a stupid beast. Then he broke Grim's neck with his bare hands. I wanted to cry, but I didn't, because I was scared he'd kill me, too."
Snape wanted to reach out and lay a hand on her shoulder, as he might have done for Dylan or Theodore, but she was looking spooked and skittish, like a wild animal, and he was afraid such a gesture might scare her off. So he settled for saying softly, "I'm sorry, Serafina." It seemed completely inadequate; all these years, Nott and Avery had been tormenting their children, and Snape had done nothing about it. The fact that there was not much he could have done was of little comfort to him.
Well, he was trying to help them now, however belatedly, and there was one small thing he could do. He picked up the rat, and Serafina looked up in alarm. "Don't worry, Miss Avery, I'm not going to feed it to the owls," he assured her. Then he scowled at the rat; what was he going to do with the creature? It wasn't as if he could be caught having a pet anymore than Serafina could. "I'll give it to the werewolf," he decided. "Lupin is such a soft touch, he'd feel sorry even for a scrap of owl bait."
Her eyes flew open wide for a moment, then narrowed in thought. This was now the third time he had mentioned Lupin in her presence, and this time he had done it deliberately. He was not ready to come out and openly declare that he was not a true Death Eater, but he knew that she was smart enough to figure out that if his relationship with Lupin was not as hostile as it seemed to be, then Snape was probably not quite what he appeared to be on the surface, either. After a long silence, she finally said, "Thank you, Professor."
"You're welcome," Snape replied, and she gave him a very small smile, but considering whom it was coming from, he considered it something of a miracle.
Later, he snuck into Lupin's office to give him the rat. Lupin stared at it dubiously. "I don't know, Severus; whenever I look at a rat, I can't help but think of Peter. Guilt by association, I suppose, and not fair to the poor rat, but still... Why on earth did you feel the need to save this particular rat from the owls or your Dark Arts lessons, anyway?"
Snape explained about the tutoring session with Serafina, and Lupin's blue eyes went wide with shock. "My goodness!" he exclaimed, looking down at the rat with new respect. He took the animal out of the wire cage Snape had carried it in, and gently stroked it. "You're certainly a little miracle worker. Hmm...I think I'll name you 'Kiseki'--'miracle' in Japanese."
Snape grinned. "I knew you were a soft touch, Lupin."
"You owe me one, Severus," Lupin retorted.
"Very well, Lupin," Snape responded readily. "How would you like me to return the favor?"
Lupin put Kiseki back in his cage and warded the room. "Well," he said, grinning back at Snape, "You could start by taking off your robes..."
***
Lupin had begun asking his students to take turns remaining behind after classes to help clean up the room (making sure to teach some spells that created a mess). Draco and some of the other Slytherins complained that this was house-elf work, but Lupin insisted, and they did it, because by now Draco had figured out that Snape wasn't going to oppose Dumbledore and his pet teachers on "trivial" matters. Lupin also made appointments for each of his fifth, sixth, and seventh-year students to see him privately in his office so that he could discuss their progress and make sure they were ready for their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s. It was all an elaborate excuse, of course, for him to be able to spend some time alone with the Slytherin students he and Severus were trying to save. When Draco was not around, Crabbe and Goyle were surprisingly agreeable; as bulky and intimidating as they must appear to be to the younger students they bullied (he had heard them being compared to mountain trolls more than once), to Lupin they seemed like overgrown puppies, eager for a kind word and a bit of praise. Theodore was much more reserved, but Lupin felt the boy was very gradually beginning to warm to him; he even smiled once, when Lupin had complimented him on his progress.
Draco kept up his sneering, arrogant act, but he seemed almost happy to sit in Lupin's office and accept a cup of tea. Lupin didn't say much, just said that he was very pleased with Draco's progress (and indeed, he was doing very well in class), talked about the kinds of questions that might appear on his N.E.W.T. exam, and complimented him on the Slytherin Quidditch team's success. (Buoyed by their win over Gryffindor, the Slytherin team was playing better than ever, and had won their match against Ravenclaw.) Then, as Draco preened with pride, Lupin listened to the boy brag about his prowess on the Quidditch field and in the classroom. It was the sort of thing that would make his Gryffindor classmates roll their eyes, but beneath the bravado, Lupin could hear the insecurity of a child looking for some praise and attention. In fact, Draco was much more loquacious than Lupin had anticipated, and he heard a hint of loneliness in the boy's voice; he suspected that Draco really wanted to be telling all these things to his father, although he knew (and he suspected that Draco did, too) that Lucius would not be particularly interested in the mundane details of his son's activities at school. So Lupin merely smiled and listened attentively. There was one detail about Draco's ramblings that intrigued Lupin; he was taking pride in performing well in Master Karasu's class, which for the most part didn't even involve magic. Lupin found it quite interesting that Draco, who was usually the epitome of the pureblood snob, took pride in his work in a non-magical class, and more than that, clearly took pride in his non-human teacher's compliments. Lupin smiled inwardly; he had never thought that the fierce, blunt-spoken tengu warrior would be able to win over Draco Malfoy, but perhaps Karasu was more subtle than he appeared at first glance. Draco seemed to be surprised at how long he had been sitting in Lupin's office, when he finally noticed that his tea had grown cold, and flushed and muttered something about needing to leave. Lupin smiled and said, "I've enjoyed our little chat, Draco. Please feel free to stop by and have some tea with me again sometime."
Draco scowled, and gave Lupin a sharp look, as if trying to determine whether his teacher was making fun of him or not. He finally seemed to decide that Lupin's offer was genuine, and growled, "Maybe." Then he left, slamming the door behind him. Lupin grinned, feeling almost cheerful; that was progress, after all--certainly better than an outright refusal. And Lupin was both stubborn and patient; it had taken him nearly two decades to win over Severus Snape, but he had done it. By comparison, his progress with Draco was positively speedy.
Serafina sat quietly in his office during her conference, not volunteering any information, and offering only monosyllabic answers to his questions. But Lupin noticed that her eyes kept darting over to Kiseki where he sat in his cage on Lupin's desk. No one among the staff or students seemed to think it strange that he had adopted a pet rat that managed to escape from the Owlery at feeding time (for that was the story he had put out)--proof that Severus was not the only one who considered him softhearted. It was rather amusing, actually, that people who would once have feared him as a monster now thought he was a bit of a soft touch. That was progress of a sort, Lupin supposed.
Lupin took the rat out of its cage and allowed it to climb on his shoulder. He handed it a treat and stroked it affectionately; he had become quite fond of his pet despite its unfortunate resemblance to Peter. Well, actually Ki was much sleeker and less mangy than Scabbers had been, so he didn't really resemble Lupin's traitorous friend that much, after all.
Serafina watched him with an odd look in her eyes that Lupin couldn't quite read. He knew from what Severus had told him that she feared becoming emotionally attached to anyone or anything, yet she had saved the rat. She reminded Lupin of Severus, and it broke his heart to see how some of the pureblood families had raised their children to view love as something to be feared and despised.
"Where did you get your new pet from, Professor?" Serafina asked.
Lupin blinked in surprise at hearing his uncommunicative student actually speak without being prompted. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how much to tell her; he had not told anyone that Severus had given him the rat, but Serafina already knew who it came from, of course; she was probably testing him to see if he would tell her the truth, or maybe she was trying to find out how much Severus had told him. Lupin smiled pleasantly and replied in a casual voice, "Oh, Professor Snape gave him to me. Leftover from one of his experiments or something. He knew I was the only one other than Hagrid softhearted enough to adopt it, I suppose, and Fang would make a mouthful out of poor Ki."
Serafina's eyes narrowed. "I thought you told Draco that you got it from the Owlery."
Lupin continued to smile and said cheerfully, "Well, of course Severus would have a fit if I let anyone think he was softhearted enough to spare the life of a lab rat. He has a certain reputation to live up to, after all, while I have none." To his amusement, Serafina looked positively dumbfounded; he was quite sure that none of the Slytherins had ever heard anyone refer to their Head of House as "softhearted" before, even in jest.
She recovered her composure quickly. "You named it 'Ki'?"
"Yes, short for 'Kiseki'. It means 'miracle' in Japanese."
"Why would you name a rat 'miracle'?" Serafina asked sharply.
Lupin smiled at her calmly. "Why, isn't it obvious? He ought to be owl food or potion ingredients, yet by some miracle he survived to live out a life of leisure as the pet of a softhearted werewolf."
"Why do you care what happens to a rat?" Serafina demanded. "Why do you care what happens to us?"
{My, my,} Lupin thought, {she's quite talkative today.} Aloud, he said, "'Us'?"
"The Slytherins," she replied, with a look that said she knew that he knew perfectly well what she meant.
Lupin petted Ki and said softly, "Perhaps because as a werewolf I know how it feels to be a misfit and an outcast."
"We don't need your pity," Serafina snapped.
"There is a difference between pity and understanding, Serafina," Lupin said, still in that quiet, serious voice. He wasn't sure if it was trust so much as it was stress that was causing her to open up to himself and Severus; the Death Eater offspring were under a great deal of pressure. From all the things Severus had reported to the Order, Lupin had the uneasy feeling that the final confrontation with Voldemort was coming soon, and he suspected that the children sensed it as well. "I would never pity you, Serafina. Rather, I admire your courage."
"Courage?" she asked suspiciously.
Lupin repressed a sigh. The Gryffindor children were so open and trusting, while the Slytherins were so wary; whenever they saw a smiling face, they seemed to look for a dagger hidden behind the back. But it only increased Lupin's desire to love and protect them. "I know things must have been difficult for you," Lupin explained, "with your father being arrested, and the way some of the other students have taunted you. No one could blame you if you responded in kind, but you did not, and kept your temper and your dignity." And he also admired the strength it must have taken to survive her abusive childhood, but of course he could not tell her that, since he was not supposed to know about it. Then he smiled and added, "Except for that incident with the Hufflepuff boy who ran afoul of a wart-hex."
"There was no proof that I did it," Serafina replied calmly.
"No," Lupin admitted, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Just as no one could prove that he was the one who caused your ink bottle to explode."
"Three of my books were ruined!" Serafina said, so indignantly that Lupin had to suppress a laugh. She might be afraid to love people, or even a rat, but she did love her books with a passion. That craving for knowledge also reminded him of Severus.
"You were able to replace them, I hope?" he asked mildly.
"Yes, sir," she replied a bit sullenly. "But it's still a waste of a good book."
"You're right," Lupin agreed. "I couldn't afford to buy many books as a child, so I treasured the ones I had. As a werewolf, I was denied contact with other children until I came to Hogwarts, so I had no friends. But through my books I found escape; I could imagine myself to be a brave knight on a quest, or the servant boy who is actually a prince in disguise..."
"My father doesn't approve of novels," Serafina replied. "He says they're a waste of time that would fill my head with nonsense."
Despite his earlier words to Serafina, Lupin had to fight back a surge of pity. But he did not let it show on his face; instead he grinned and winked at her, saying, "Somehow I doubt you let that stop you." He was rewarded with a very small, nearly imperceptible smile. "For all that they are fiction, there is an inner truth in the old tales that resonates within our hearts, or they would not have survived for so many generations: the stories of the Greek gods and heroes in the Iliad and the Odyssey, the legends of King Arthur, Shakespeare's plays of love and betrayal." He reached out and plucked a book from the shelf behind him. "Here; this is a book of legends dealing with Japanese shapeshifters. It is technically fiction, but you can still learn something about how their magic works from it, so I would consider it quite educational, especially in light of the fact that you are being taught by three shapeshifters. Well, four if you count me."
She hesitated, but he could tell by the longing in her eyes that he had found her one weakness; if Dylan's was his father, then Serafina's was her love for books. {Severus would tell me I'm being as devious as a Slytherin,} Lupin thought in amusement. It was too bad that the Gryffindors couldn't see that Slytherin traits were not always a bad thing.
Serafina gave him a suspicious look, as if wondering if there were some kind of catch attached to this gift, but in the end, she could not resist, and accepted the book. "Thank you, Professor. I'll take good care of it."
"I'm sure you'll guard it fiercely from exploding ink bottles," Lupin replied with another wink, startling her into another smile, a wider one this time. She was really quite pretty when she smiled, especially with those extraordinary violet eyes; it was a pity she didn't do it more often. "Keep it as long as you like."
"Yes, sir," she said. "Thank you. May I be dismissed?"
"Of course. But please feel free to stop by anytime, to talk about class, or just to discuss a good book over a cup of tea."
Serafina nodded and left. Lupin fed Ki another treat and said, "I think you are a good luck charm, my little miracle worker."
***
Between teaching classes and worrying about the Slytherins, Lupin still had certain duties to perform for the Order. One day, accompanied by Arthur Weasley and Karasu (who had reluctantly agreed to trade his Japanese clothing for more conventional wizards' robes in order to avoid attracting attention), Lupin ventured into a seedy section of London located near Knockturn Alley, carrying a large basket. A number of shifty-looking characters eyed them as they passed by, making Arthur very nervous, but a glare from Karasu would cause them to turn away and shrink back into the shadows. Although Lupin was capable of defending himself, he still felt glad that the tengu had insisted on accompanying them as a bodyguard.
Arthur glanced at the scrap of paper in his hand, then looked at the number on a dilapidated apartment building. "This is it," he said. "Our...friends...are in the basement apartment." They descended a rusty staircase, and Arthur knocked on the door, calling out, "It's me, Arthur." A yellowish-green eye peered out through the peephole in the door, then they could hear the sound of locks turning and a chain being pulled back, and the door opened. They entered the room, which was filled with a number of people who looked no less shifty and dangerous than the ones they had encountered on the way here; the man who had opened the door was particularly dangerous-looking, with a lean, wiry build, greasy shoulder-length blond hair, a couple days growth of beard, and feral-looking eyes.
The man nodded curtly at Lupin. "Remus."
Lupin nodded back, in a more polite manner. "Hello, Lukas."
One man looked less dangerous than the others, a young man with dark brown hair, dressed in clean but shabby robes, who seemed a bit afraid of his companions. Lupin recognized him as the patient who had shared Arthur's hospital room, the one who had been bitten by a werewolf.
"Hello, Brian," Arthur said cheerfully. "You remember Remus, don't you?"
Brian smiled bitterly. "Yes, I remember. So that's why you were so nice to me--because you were a werewolf, too. For all I know, it was you who bit me."
"Brian!" Arthur said indignantly.
"It wasn't him," Lukas said, locking the door and leaning casually against the wall. "Don't be an idiot. You told me the wolf who attacked you had black fur; Lupin's hair is brown, and thus his fur would be, too."
"Well, it might just as well have been him--or you, or any of your 'pack'!" Brian retorted.
"Remus is a good little wolf," Lukas said, with a faint hint of contemptuous amusement in his voice. "He always takes his potion, like a good tame dog."
"Yes, I do," Lupin said with a pleasant smile, not allowing the other man to bait him. He had plenty of practice, after all; Lukas was pretty good at insulting people, but nowhere near as good as Severus. He set down the basket on the table that the other werewolves were gathered around. "And I have brought the potion for you and your friends, as promised."
"They're not my friends," Brian muttered.
One young woman with short, spiky black hair snapped, "Then what are you doing here, if you're too good to hang around with the likes of us?"
Brian glared at her. "I have nowhere else to go, and you know it, Kyra!" He turned to Lupin and said, "I had everything--a family, a good job, a beautiful fiancee--and now I have nothing! I lost my job, my fiancee left me, my family wants nothing to do with me...the only people who will associate with me are other outcasts and monsters like me!"
"Oh, stuff it, you little whiner!" Kyra snapped. "At least you have a job!"
"Yes, I suppose I should thank you for that, Arthur," Brian said grudgingly. "It probably wasn't easy finding a person willing to hire a werewolf."
"You're welcome," Arthur said with a smile. He had gotten Brian a job in a used bookstore; the owner was a former classmate who owed him a favor. "How are you getting along?"
Brian shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Mostly I work in back in the stockroom; they don't want the werewolf scaring the customers out front..."
"Whine, whine, whine," muttered Kyra.
"It's not a bad job," Brian admitted. "But I'm a stockboy, for Merlin's sake! I was a young partner in a good firm, eventually set to inherit my father-in-law's business and now--"
"Yes, yes, your dreams for the future went poof, just like the rest of us," Lukas said in a bored voice. "But of course we have Remus as a shining example of how a werewolf can get a respectable job--as long as one has a powerful patron, of course. Have you come to make us more promises you cannot keep, Lupin?"
"I have made you no promises, Lukas," Lupin replied in a level voice. "Dumbledore and the Japanese emissaries have been trying to persuade the Ministry--"
"To grant us equal rights, but they still have not," Lukas finished. "So tell me, why should we fight and die for the people who despise us?"
"Not everyone despises us," Lupin said quietly. "Though I will admit that most of the Ministry officials are ignorant bigots. But there are people like Arthur and Dumbledore who have stood by me as my friends no matter what."
"And Remus's students love him," Arthur added in a hopeful voice. "Even if their parents are prejudiced, the younger generation is learning to look beyond those prejudices."
"Lovely," Lukas said. "Come see me in ten or twenty years, when those children have grown up, and maybe I'll change my mind."
"We don't have ten or twenty years," Lupin said. "Voldemort will strike before then." Arthur, Brian, and most of the other werewolves flinched nervously at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, but Lukas didn't even bat an eye. "If you think life under the Ministry is bad, Lukas, it is nothing compared to what life will be like if the Dark Lord rules the world. There will be nothing but blood and death and terror. He will kill all those who oppose him and enslave the rest. Do not think that you will be spared this fate just because you do not fight on our side; Voldemort despises fence-sitters."
"Then maybe we should join the Dark Lord's side," one of the werewolves said defiantly.
"Go ahead, if you want to become his lapdogs," Lupin retorted.
That finally got a reaction from Lukas, whose head jerked up, an angry look in his eyes. He bared his teeth and snarled at Lupin, "We are no one's lapdogs! Not Dumbledore's and not the Dark Lord's!"
Karasu, who had been watching all this silently, finally spoke. "Go ahead and fight amongst yourselves. This Dark Lord will destroy you all while you do so. If we do not stop him now, we never will. He will conquer your country, then extend his reach outwards until it reaches even my corner of the world. That is what our Seers have seen."
"Seers," Lukas snorted dismissively, but he looked at Karasu with a certain respect in his eyes, one predator recognizing another.
"Do it not for the Ministry," Karasu said, "but for yourselves and for your children, who will die if you are lucky, and live as slaves if you are not."
"Maybe the Dark Lord would treat us better than the Ministry," said the werewolf who had spoken before. Lukas cuffed him sharply, and the werewolf subsided, sullenly rubbing his ear.
"We are no one's slaves!" Lukas snapped.
"The Dark Lord might make you promises," Lupin said in a quiet voice to the werewolf who had suggested joining Voldemort's side, "but he will not keep them. He despises all who are not pureblooded, and we have tainted blood--at least in his eyes, and the eyes of his followers. I may not have been able to offer you much, but remember that at least I have been honest with you and offered no false promises."
"Yes, that is true," Lukas acknowledged, with grudging respect. "I will think upon your words, Remus, but I still do not intend to spill my blood or the blood of my people if I get nothing in return."
"You will get something," Karasu pointed out. "Your lives and your freedom."
"I am not sure that I would call what I have now 'freedom,'" Lukas said. "Perhaps we will run off and live in the woods as wolves, and thus escape both your Ministry and the Dark Lord." He spoke in a light, almost joking tone, but his eyes held no laughter, and were blank and unreadable.
"You would never do that, Lukas," Lupin said gently. "If you were the type to go feral, you would have done it long ago. You value your humanity, or you would not have clung to it for so long, despite the monthly transformations and the self-mutilation. If you were not more man than wolf, you would not have gathered these people to you, to give them a sense of family and belonging."
"Perhaps that is the wolf in me," Lukas retorted. "Perhaps I am merely gathering a pack around me."
"Perhaps," Lupin agreed. "But that is one of the good traits of the wolf--loyalty to the pack. I have my own pack, Lukas, and I would give my life to protect them."
Lukas just grunted, looking annoyed and a little embarrassed. "Well, thanks for the potion, Lupin, but it won't make me change my mind."
Lupin smiled. "I will continue to bring it, no matter what you decide."
"Unless the Dark Lord kills him," Karasu pointed out sardonically. "Think upon that, Pack Leader. If Remus and his friends are killed, who will make your Wolfsbane Potion?"
"We can manage without it if we must," Lukas said, but he seemed a little taken aback.
"Yes, but it's much nicer to pass the full moon without being chained or locked up, isn't it?"
"Enough!" snarled Lukas. He unlocked the door and held open it for them. "Good day, Remus. Perhaps you can leave the crow at home next time."
"Not a very pleasant man," Arthur observed after they left. Lupin started to say something, then decided it was better not to discuss these things in public; one never knew who might be listening.
When they reached the safety of Grimmauld Place, Lupin told Arthur, "You are right; Lukas is not a pleasant man. Years of hardship and prejudice tend to make one bitter. But deep down, I believe he is a good person. He gathered those werewolves together, gave them a home and a place to belong. They all work to support each other, sharing food and shelter with those of the pack who are unemployed. And the companionship they share seems to ease the stress of their transformations slightly."
"He is a strong leader," Karasu observed, "to have gathered all these people together, to have won the trust of people not normally inclined to trust anyone."
"Yes," agreed Lupin. "He is the one we must convince. The Pack Leader, as you so astutely pointed out. The others will follow his lead. He is stubborn, though, and distrustful, not without cause."
"Providing them with the potion was a good start," Karasu said.
Arthur shook his head. "It's criminal that the government won't provide it to anyone who needs it!" The Wolfsbane Potion was available through St. Mungo's or apothecary and potion shops, but only to those who could afford it. And since most werewolves had difficulty finding steady employment, many of them could not afford it, and had to undergo their monthly transformations under restraint, rending their own bodies with teeth and claws.
"Yes," Lupin agreed quietly. "I am very fortunate to have access to the potion myself." Then a thought occurred to him. "Even if the Ministry is balking at granting us equal rights, perhaps they could be persuaded to provide the Wolfsbane Potion to all the werewolves who need it. That, Lukas might find worth fighting for. I'll mention it to Albus."
"I'll support your idea, Remus," Arthur said. "Not that I have much influence, though more than I used to when Lucius Malfoy worked at the Ministry. It's a practical suggestion; werewolves who are taking the potion are unlikely to attack anyone. The problem is, it would cost money to subsidize such a program."
"And the Ministry doesn't like to shell out gold for the likes of a few mangy non-humans," Lupin said bitterly. Even his good nature had its limits, or perhaps Lukas's cynicism was rubbing off on him.
Arthur patted him on the shoulder, saying, "Don't give up, Remus. Perhaps Albus can find some sponsors to help finance the program, or volunteers willing to help brew it, for free or at a reduced cost."
"I'm sure Naoto would be willing to help, too," Karasu said. "We did offer aid such as healing potions to the Order. He can't brew enough for all the werewolves in England by himself, but he and some of the teachers at Mahou Gakkou could at least help brew some potion for your friend Lukas and his pack."
"Severus has several promising young students who are capable of at least assisting with the brewing," Lupin said, cheering up a little. "Perhaps we could start some sort of program at Hogwarts." Then he laughed. "Though I'm sure Lukas would complain about being the guinea pig for some wet-behind-the-ears cub's homework assignment!"
***
Dumbledore badgered the Ministers until he got some grudging and halfhearted cooperation; the Ministry agreed to finance half of the necessary funds for a Wolfsbane Potion distribution program if Dumbledore could find sponsors willing to put up the other half. It took a great deal of time and effort to do so--many businesses made charitable donations to benefit their public image, but helping werewolves was not a very popular cause. Still, with a little persuasion and a little bullying, Dumbledore managed to scrape up--just barely--the necessary funds. A few people did offer their help willingly: Lupin's inventor friend--who had created the magical music boxes and recording spheres--was flush with new wealth, and eager to support Dumbledore's pet project; and Mr. Jigger, the owner of Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, offered to sell them ingredients at cost, with no markup.
Snape was quite impressed when he heard that. "Jigger always drives a hard bargain; never thought he was the charitable type."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind their half-moon glasses as he smiled and said, "People are not always what they appear to be, Severus, as you should well know. Besides, Hogwarts is a good customer of Mr. Jigger's; he probably feels it wouldn't hurt to earn my goodwill. After all, even if he's not making a profit on the ingredients, he isn't losing money on them, either."
"Now that makes more sense," Snape said with a cynical smile.
"You should have more faith in human kindness, my boy," Dumbledore said, and Snape snorted.
But whatever the hidden reasons were behind the sponsors' generosity, they managed to get the distribution program working. Snape put some of his more talented Advanced Potions students to work brewing the potion, "On Dumbledore's orders," he said sourly, complaining loudly about the Headmaster's softheartedness to his classes.
Lukas was mildly impressed, but more with Lupin's and Dumbledore's tenacity than by the Ministry's show of goodwill, which he knew was lukewarm at best. "I know this is more Dumbledore's work than the Ministry's," Lukas said.
"It's a start, Lukas," Lupin told him. "Whatever the reasons, whoever is behind it, at least our people are benefiting from it."
Lukas's eyes softened slightly as he regarded his pack, who looked much healthier and relaxed now that the Wolfsbane Potion was easing their transformations. "A start," he agreed. "But only a start. It's a grudging gift, like a bone tossed to a dog. For that I should send my people out to fight and most likely die? You know, don't you, that going up against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters is tantamount to suicide?"
"There are fates worse than death," Lupin said quietly. "You must do as you think best, Lukas. For myself, I will fight, to protect my loved ones."
Lukas nodded, looking thoughtful. The werewolf leader was still not ready to commit, but Lupin felt they had made some progress with him.
Evidently, the Dark Lord thought so, too. Not long after the potion distribution program went into effect, the Death Eaters sent messages to Lukas and his followers, promising power and glory if they joined the Dark Lord's side, and a painful death if they did not. This did not sit well with Lukas, who did not take kindly to threats, but he gave them the same answer that he gave Lupin, that he would think about it. The Dark Lord was not pleased with that, and his anger caused him to act rashly and make a major mistake.
The body of one of Lukas's pack members was dumped on the doorstep of their apartment building one morning. Ironically, it was the young werewolf who had suggested joining the Dark Lord during Lupin's earlier visit. His wrists and ankles were bound with silver manacles, and his clothes were torn and soaked with blood although the only visible wound on his body was his slit throat. Lukas felt a surge of rage when he saw that, and nearly transformed on the spot, for all that there was no full moon in sight. Lycanthropes healed nonfatal wounds quickly, and he knew that the Death Eaters must have tortured the werewolf before inflicting the fatal blow. The pain would probably have provoked a transformation even though the moon wasn't full, which explained the silver manacles, which they must have used to restrain the wolf. Lukas threw back his head and howled in anger and mourning. From the apartment windows, the other residents of the building looked out in surprise and then fear, and quickly retreated, drawing back the curtains. Lukas didn't care what they thought; this place was no longer safe, and they would have to move, anyway. That same day he sent Lupin a message that said only: "We will fight."
***
The Dark Lord was growing restless and impatient, and a little desperate. The potions Snape was brewing for him were becoming less and less effective, and soon he needed to supplement them with blood in order to maintain his strength. He sent his Death Eaters out to capture victims to be sacrificed--Muggles, at first, because their disappearances were less likely to be noticed in the wizarding world. They took people who were not likely to be missed, even among the Muggles--homeless people, runaways, prostitutes, and drug dealers--people who vanished every day without anyone noticing or caring. But the sacrifice of a normal person did not provide anywhere near as much power as that of a wizard or magical being, so he sent his Death Eaters to the Forbidden Forest to hunt unicorns for their blood, which had sustained him when he was forced to share Quirrell's body. That turned out to be his second mistake.
A centaur patrol happened upon the Lestranges just as they had slain a unicorn. Enraged, the centaurs attacked, but were no match for the Death Eaters, who slew them all except for one young centaur who was little more than a boy; this would be his first and last patrol. Rabastan was about to finish him off when Bellatrix stopped him.
"Let him die slowly, a long and lingering death, with his hope fading to despair even as the blood drains out of his body," she said, and her brother-in-law and husband laughed along with her in sadistic pleasure. "It's a pity we won't be able to stay behind and watch," she added, giving the boy a mocking kiss on the forehead before they gathered the unicorn blood they had come for, and departed.
The young centaur was too weak to summon up enough strength even to spit at Bellatrix as she taunted him, but he clung to life long enough to be found by a second patrol of centaurs, who had gone out when the first did not return on time. When asked who had done this to him, he whispered, "Three wizards in black robes," and died. All this still might have made no difference, except that the boy was the son of Bane, the leader of the centaurs. After several days of heated debate and seeking signs in the stars and in the fire, they finally sent a message to Firenze, who was still living in exile at Hogwarts...
Part 32
***
Afterword: At this point in the story, I went back to the books to look up info on the centaurs and belatedly realized that I'd accidentally given Bane the raven the same name as one of the centaurs. I had wanted to give Professor Blackmore's raven a sinister-sounding name and "Bane" came to mind, partially influenced by the evil god Bane in the Forgotten Realms setting in the Dungeons and Dragons game--I had completely forgotten about Bane the centaur! It was too late to change the raven's name, so I just stuck with it and hoped that it wouldn't matter too much, since centaur-Bane is mentioned only in passing.
And the character of Lukas was heavily influenced by the werewolf character Lucian in the movie "Underworld"--parts of the movie were a bit silly, but I liked it overall and I really loved Lucian. He influenced Lukas's personality and scruffy looks, but I picture Lukas as looking more like Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn in "Lord of the Rings," but with blond hair. Karasu is modeled after Japanese actor Sorimachi Takashi, specifically his portrayal of Oda Nobunaga in the samurai drama "Toshiie to Matsu" (translation: "Toshiie and Matsu"). I'll try to upload some photos of them later to my Scrapbook.
Goewin was about five months pregnant, her belly now forming a visible bulge beneath her robes. She finally understood how Dylan and Ariane must have felt, being virtual prisoners on the estate for so many years; she had not left the house since she had found out about her pregnancy, and felt like she was going to go stark raving mad from boredom and staring at the same walls day after day after day. Of course her family tried to support her: Dylan sent her letters every week from school; Ariane was being kinder to her than normal; and Math hovered over her so solicitously, not wanting her to exert herself in the slightest, that she had to remind him that she wasn't made of glass. She occupied herself with reading, decorating the baby's nursery, and, of course, trying to interpret the visions her unborn daughter was sending her.
The morning sickness had ceased, and Goewin was trying to get enough food and rest to keep the baby healthy, but the nightmares she had almost every night made that difficult, and she could not take a sleeping draught, because Severus and Madam Pomfrey said it would be bad for the baby. She dreamed of blood and battles, dreamed of Dylan and his friends fighting on the battlefield. Sometimes she saw Math and Ariane there as well. But recently she had begun to have different dreams...
"You look so pale, my dear," Math said in a concerned voice one morning. "Another nightmare?"
Goewin nodded. "I saw a serpent and a lion entwined together--as if locked in an embrace or in combat, I'm not sure which. Both, maybe."
"Gryffindor and Slytherin?" Ariane guessed. "Or the Dark Lord and Harry Potter, perhaps, locked in a deadly embrace?"
"I don't know," Goewin said wearily. "But I suppose you should pass it along to the Order."
"We will," Math said. "Did you See anything else?"
"No," Goewin lied. Lately she had begun having dreams even more disturbing than the earlier ones: herself, lying bound on an altar in a dark room, or on the ground in the middle of a circle inscribed with the runes and symbols meant for a blood sacrifice. In her dreams she was surrounded by chanting Death Eaters; sometimes she could see her nephews' gray eyes through the slits in their hoods. Sometimes Voldemort killed her and her baby, which was bad enough, but in the very worst ones, he took her baby from her dying body, and her dream-self knew that he was going to raise it as his own, twisting the innocent child to his own evil purposes. Those were the dreams that caused her to jerk awake, soaking in sweat; once she had woke up screaming, but when Math asked her what was wrong, she had said only that she had seen Voldemort winning the war in her dream. What would be the point in telling him the truth, after all? This estate was one of the most well-guarded residences in Britain, and her husband was one of the most powerful mages in the world. There was little more anyone could do to make her safer than she already was, so telling Math about the dreams would only make him worry needlessly. She would mention them only if she saw some way in which they could be prevented. Maybe as the baby grew older, the dreams would become clearer...although Goewin was not sure if she wanted to see them.
***
As the weeks passed, Snape was kept very busy with his duties to the school, to the Order, and to the Dark Lord; it was not easy, sometimes, serving two masters. In addition to his normal lessons, he was still tutoring Potter and Dylan in Occlumency, and the Death Eater offspring in the Dark Arts, although he had reduced their lessons to no more than once every week or two--for fear of arousing suspicions, he told Draco when the boy began chafing at the slow pace of those lessons. He and Dylan had been summoned a couple of times, when the Dark Lord wanted Dylan to harvest more of the rose blossoms for him, and the last time, Voldemort had also wanted to "harvest" Dylan's blood. He nicked the boy's wrist with a knife, and filled a small flask with the blood; enough to make Dylan go a little pale, but not enough to make him faint. The boy had borne it without flinching or otherwise showing any fear, which made Snape proud of him, but he worried about what uses the Dark Lord might put that blood to. Most likely to try and harness the power of the roses himself, but as any experienced mage knew, it was dangerous to allow part of your essence to fall into the hands of an enemy. A simple strand of hair had caused Tonks so much trouble when a Death Eater had used it in a Polyjuice Potion to impersonate her, and blood could be put to even worse uses; there were many Dark Spells that allowed the caster to inflict harm upon someone if he had a little of the victim's blood. But there was nothing Snape could do except to worry, and wait. Sometimes the waiting drove him crazy; he had been waiting for over fifteen years for the war to reach its final conclusion. Yet at the same time, he dreaded the day of the final battle, because no one, not even a Seer such as Miyako or Goewin, knew how it would end.
He was kept very busy brewing potions in his workshop; there was the Mind Restoration Potion to be brewed for the Donner brothers, and Voldemort continued to request a steady supply of Strengthening Solution and Elixir of Vitality. In addition to this, he of course had to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for Lupin, and the Headmaster had requested that he begin brewing it in greater amounts. He was trying to win over the non-humans--or at least the werewolves--with a gesture of good faith, it seemed. Snape was beginning to feel stretched thin, so he drafted Dylan's help. Since his uncles' status among the Death Eaters was no longer a secret, it was safe for Snape to explain to Dylan about the Mind Restoration Potion and how it was brewed--although Snape smiled a little at the irony of turning their work for the Death Eaters into a lesson. But the boy might as well learn something while he was working; no knowledge was ever wasted, so the saying went. He also had Dylan help him with the Wolfsbane Potion.
The boy found the work challenging and enjoyable, but as always, he was quick to pick up on details that other students might have overlooked. "Why are we brewing so much of this?" Dylan asked. "Surely Professor Lupin can't drink all this in one month! It looks more like a year's supply!"
Snape sighed, torn between pride and irritation at the boy's quick wit; he really was too clever for his own good sometimes. "It is shortsighted, Rosier," Snape said in his usual cold voice, "to make only enough to last for the current month. What would happen if I fell ill and could not brew next month's supply, or if the current batch was somehow ruined? Unlikely, you might say, but I prefer to be prepared for the unexpected. I want to always have a more than adequate supply on hand; the consequences of Lupin missing his potion could be devastating."
"Yes, Professor," Dylan said meekly, looking properly chastised, and asked no more questions about the Wolfsbane Potion. But Snape had no doubt that behind that meek look, the boy's mind was still puzzling over the matter and drawing its own conclusions--possibly even the correct one.
Snape also tutored Serafina in her anti-healing lessons, as Voldemort had ordered. At their first session, Snape explained how she had been using her Healing Gift in reverse.
"Professor Chizuru also told me that, sir," she said quietly. "She was most distressed. She said a healer must never use their Gift that way, that it's evil."
"Evil is relative, Serafina," Snape said in a dry voice. "I'm not saying that you should use it lightly--and indeed, I shall punish you most severely if I catch you using your Gift to play pranks on your classmates." It wasn't very likely that the girl would abuse her Gift in such a way (although no doubt Draco would if he had it), but the warning came out of his mouth almost automatically. Serafina just nodded obediently. "But," Snape continued, "if your life were in danger, I wouldn't advise you to ponder the morality of using your Gift to inflict harm--at least not until after the danger had passed."
Serafina gave him a thoughtful look and then nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Did Professor Chizuru explain how healing magic works?"
"Yes, sir. Energy flows through the body in a certain pattern; she calls them 'meridians.' When a person is ill or injured, the healer directs the flow of energy to the sick or injured parts of the body, thereby encouraging the body to heal itself faster."
"Very good. And if you should disrupt this flow of energy?"
"Depending on how severely and how long you disrupted the flow of energy, it could cause any reaction between mild discomfort and death," Serafina replied in a toneless voice.
"Demonstrate for me upon this rat," Snape instructed her.
She cast the spell, one similar to the Aperio spell, that enabled her to see the natural energy of a living being. She was still a beginner at healing magic, but she was able to disrupt the energy flow, sending it off in random directions. The rat began to tremble, then make little squeaks of distress. As it began to go into convulsions and a tiny thread of blood began to leak out of its mouth, she asked in an expressionless voice, "How long do you want me to keep this up?"
"You may stop now," Snape said, watching her carefully. Serafina immediately broke off the spell, and the rat lay on its side, gasping for breath. "You didn't like doing that," Snape observed in a conversational tone.
"No," she replied, almost defiantly, and Snape blinked in surprise at that rare hint of emotion. "But I am able to do things I do not like."
Snape smiled, just the slightest upward curving of one corner of his mouth, but Serafina noticed, and it was her turn to stare at him in surprise. "Good," he said.
"Good that I don't like doing it?" Serafina asked, staring at him intently. "Or good that I'm able to do it even though I don't like it?"
"Both," Snape replied, and the girl's eyes grew even wider. This was deadly serious business, but Snape felt pleased that he'd broken through her shell a little. By now he was certain that she had no wish to join the Death Eaters, but she could still put his cover and his life in jeopardy if she let it slip to her parents that Severus Snape did not revel in pain and torture like a good Death Eater should. However, he could not win her over without taking certain risks, and she wasn't really the type to go gossiping carelessly about it; he had never observed the girl at her home, but he was quite sure that she was just as taciturn there as she was at school. "I don't wish for you to enjoy it, but neither do I want you to be so squeamish that you can't perform these spells if it becomes necessary." She remained silent, so he continued, "You did very well, but of course it is much easier to perform these spells on a small creature like a rat than on a human. And you are much more likely to need to protect yourself from a human than a rat."
"And you are teaching me these spells solely for my protection?" Serafina asked, with just a hint of sarcasm. Snape was pleased rather than annoyed, because it was a sign that she'd begun to trust him, or at least he hoped so. She had never let her guard down this much before.
"It is one of the reasons," Snape said softly.
"And the others?" Serafina persisted.
"My reasons are my own," Snape said, quietly but firmly. "As what you do with these spells is up to you."
For just a second, the girl's mask slipped, and he saw shock, hope, fear, and suspicion all mingled on her face. Then her normal blank expression was back on her face. She looked down at the rat and said in her usual toneless voice, "I think it will die unless I heal it," as if it didn't matter to her one way or the other.
"It was destined for the Owlery," Snape said casually, but he was very interested to see what she would do next. "However, you may heal it if you wish."
"No point, if it's just going to be eaten," she said; she seemed to be watching for his reaction just as carefully as he was watching for hers.
Snape shrugged. "Then put it out of its misery. Or...you can keep it, if you like. Losing one rat won't cause the owls to die of starvation."
He had startled her into showing an emotional reaction. "Wh...what would I do with a rat?" she asked, looking a little flustered.
"You don't have a familiar, do you? Every student is allowed to bring a toad, rat, owl, or cat to school."
She stared down at the rat, then lifted her wand and cast the healing spell. It sniffed at her hand, seeming to understand that she had relieved its pain, and she hesitantly stroked it with one finger. Then she suddenly jerked her hand away and said, "No! I can't keep it!"
Snape was startled to hear such a vehement response from her. "Why not?" he asked.
She looked visibly upset for the first time in all the years he had been teaching her. "Because...because...I can't keep a pet! It would make me look soft! If you care about something, people can use it against you as a weapon!"
Snape felt a sudden stab of pain at hearing her words, so similar to the words his father had drilled into his head as a child, that only weak people were ruled by sentiment. He had spent most of his life fighting his feelings for Lupin because he had feared being weak and giving someone else control over him, because Slytherins were taught that emotions were a weapon to be used like any other. He wondered despairingly if every Slytherin child held that belief, that loving someone created a hostage to fortune that an enemy could use against you. No, some of his Slytherins were soft and spoiled, but Draco was probably the only one among the Death Eater offspring who had not yet learned that lesson firsthand.
"We are talking about more than a rat, I think," Snape said in a gentle voice that none of his students other than Dylan had ever heard. Maybe that was what shocked her into opening up to him, or maybe she was simply near her breaking point. Snape knew better than anyone what it cost to always keep your emotions hidden, showing nothing to the outside world, no matter how much you wanted to shout or scream or cry...
"When I was seven," Serafina said, shaking a little, "the neighbor's cat had kittens, and they gave me one. A proper familiar for a young witch. He was all black except for a white spot on his chest, and I named him Grimalkin, Grim for short. He followed me around everywhere, slept on my bed at night. He loved me, and I loved him, and I made the mistake of letting my father see that. One day I was petting Grim while he lay in my lap, and my father came and snatched him up. He said that a familiar wasn't a pet to be babied and coddled, and that I'd never become a Death Eater if I could go so soft, especially over a stupid beast. Then he broke Grim's neck with his bare hands. I wanted to cry, but I didn't, because I was scared he'd kill me, too."
Snape wanted to reach out and lay a hand on her shoulder, as he might have done for Dylan or Theodore, but she was looking spooked and skittish, like a wild animal, and he was afraid such a gesture might scare her off. So he settled for saying softly, "I'm sorry, Serafina." It seemed completely inadequate; all these years, Nott and Avery had been tormenting their children, and Snape had done nothing about it. The fact that there was not much he could have done was of little comfort to him.
Well, he was trying to help them now, however belatedly, and there was one small thing he could do. He picked up the rat, and Serafina looked up in alarm. "Don't worry, Miss Avery, I'm not going to feed it to the owls," he assured her. Then he scowled at the rat; what was he going to do with the creature? It wasn't as if he could be caught having a pet anymore than Serafina could. "I'll give it to the werewolf," he decided. "Lupin is such a soft touch, he'd feel sorry even for a scrap of owl bait."
Her eyes flew open wide for a moment, then narrowed in thought. This was now the third time he had mentioned Lupin in her presence, and this time he had done it deliberately. He was not ready to come out and openly declare that he was not a true Death Eater, but he knew that she was smart enough to figure out that if his relationship with Lupin was not as hostile as it seemed to be, then Snape was probably not quite what he appeared to be on the surface, either. After a long silence, she finally said, "Thank you, Professor."
"You're welcome," Snape replied, and she gave him a very small smile, but considering whom it was coming from, he considered it something of a miracle.
Later, he snuck into Lupin's office to give him the rat. Lupin stared at it dubiously. "I don't know, Severus; whenever I look at a rat, I can't help but think of Peter. Guilt by association, I suppose, and not fair to the poor rat, but still... Why on earth did you feel the need to save this particular rat from the owls or your Dark Arts lessons, anyway?"
Snape explained about the tutoring session with Serafina, and Lupin's blue eyes went wide with shock. "My goodness!" he exclaimed, looking down at the rat with new respect. He took the animal out of the wire cage Snape had carried it in, and gently stroked it. "You're certainly a little miracle worker. Hmm...I think I'll name you 'Kiseki'--'miracle' in Japanese."
Snape grinned. "I knew you were a soft touch, Lupin."
"You owe me one, Severus," Lupin retorted.
"Very well, Lupin," Snape responded readily. "How would you like me to return the favor?"
Lupin put Kiseki back in his cage and warded the room. "Well," he said, grinning back at Snape, "You could start by taking off your robes..."
***
Lupin had begun asking his students to take turns remaining behind after classes to help clean up the room (making sure to teach some spells that created a mess). Draco and some of the other Slytherins complained that this was house-elf work, but Lupin insisted, and they did it, because by now Draco had figured out that Snape wasn't going to oppose Dumbledore and his pet teachers on "trivial" matters. Lupin also made appointments for each of his fifth, sixth, and seventh-year students to see him privately in his office so that he could discuss their progress and make sure they were ready for their O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s. It was all an elaborate excuse, of course, for him to be able to spend some time alone with the Slytherin students he and Severus were trying to save. When Draco was not around, Crabbe and Goyle were surprisingly agreeable; as bulky and intimidating as they must appear to be to the younger students they bullied (he had heard them being compared to mountain trolls more than once), to Lupin they seemed like overgrown puppies, eager for a kind word and a bit of praise. Theodore was much more reserved, but Lupin felt the boy was very gradually beginning to warm to him; he even smiled once, when Lupin had complimented him on his progress.
Draco kept up his sneering, arrogant act, but he seemed almost happy to sit in Lupin's office and accept a cup of tea. Lupin didn't say much, just said that he was very pleased with Draco's progress (and indeed, he was doing very well in class), talked about the kinds of questions that might appear on his N.E.W.T. exam, and complimented him on the Slytherin Quidditch team's success. (Buoyed by their win over Gryffindor, the Slytherin team was playing better than ever, and had won their match against Ravenclaw.) Then, as Draco preened with pride, Lupin listened to the boy brag about his prowess on the Quidditch field and in the classroom. It was the sort of thing that would make his Gryffindor classmates roll their eyes, but beneath the bravado, Lupin could hear the insecurity of a child looking for some praise and attention. In fact, Draco was much more loquacious than Lupin had anticipated, and he heard a hint of loneliness in the boy's voice; he suspected that Draco really wanted to be telling all these things to his father, although he knew (and he suspected that Draco did, too) that Lucius would not be particularly interested in the mundane details of his son's activities at school. So Lupin merely smiled and listened attentively. There was one detail about Draco's ramblings that intrigued Lupin; he was taking pride in performing well in Master Karasu's class, which for the most part didn't even involve magic. Lupin found it quite interesting that Draco, who was usually the epitome of the pureblood snob, took pride in his work in a non-magical class, and more than that, clearly took pride in his non-human teacher's compliments. Lupin smiled inwardly; he had never thought that the fierce, blunt-spoken tengu warrior would be able to win over Draco Malfoy, but perhaps Karasu was more subtle than he appeared at first glance. Draco seemed to be surprised at how long he had been sitting in Lupin's office, when he finally noticed that his tea had grown cold, and flushed and muttered something about needing to leave. Lupin smiled and said, "I've enjoyed our little chat, Draco. Please feel free to stop by and have some tea with me again sometime."
Draco scowled, and gave Lupin a sharp look, as if trying to determine whether his teacher was making fun of him or not. He finally seemed to decide that Lupin's offer was genuine, and growled, "Maybe." Then he left, slamming the door behind him. Lupin grinned, feeling almost cheerful; that was progress, after all--certainly better than an outright refusal. And Lupin was both stubborn and patient; it had taken him nearly two decades to win over Severus Snape, but he had done it. By comparison, his progress with Draco was positively speedy.
Serafina sat quietly in his office during her conference, not volunteering any information, and offering only monosyllabic answers to his questions. But Lupin noticed that her eyes kept darting over to Kiseki where he sat in his cage on Lupin's desk. No one among the staff or students seemed to think it strange that he had adopted a pet rat that managed to escape from the Owlery at feeding time (for that was the story he had put out)--proof that Severus was not the only one who considered him softhearted. It was rather amusing, actually, that people who would once have feared him as a monster now thought he was a bit of a soft touch. That was progress of a sort, Lupin supposed.
Lupin took the rat out of its cage and allowed it to climb on his shoulder. He handed it a treat and stroked it affectionately; he had become quite fond of his pet despite its unfortunate resemblance to Peter. Well, actually Ki was much sleeker and less mangy than Scabbers had been, so he didn't really resemble Lupin's traitorous friend that much, after all.
Serafina watched him with an odd look in her eyes that Lupin couldn't quite read. He knew from what Severus had told him that she feared becoming emotionally attached to anyone or anything, yet she had saved the rat. She reminded Lupin of Severus, and it broke his heart to see how some of the pureblood families had raised their children to view love as something to be feared and despised.
"Where did you get your new pet from, Professor?" Serafina asked.
Lupin blinked in surprise at hearing his uncommunicative student actually speak without being prompted. He hesitated for a moment, trying to decide how much to tell her; he had not told anyone that Severus had given him the rat, but Serafina already knew who it came from, of course; she was probably testing him to see if he would tell her the truth, or maybe she was trying to find out how much Severus had told him. Lupin smiled pleasantly and replied in a casual voice, "Oh, Professor Snape gave him to me. Leftover from one of his experiments or something. He knew I was the only one other than Hagrid softhearted enough to adopt it, I suppose, and Fang would make a mouthful out of poor Ki."
Serafina's eyes narrowed. "I thought you told Draco that you got it from the Owlery."
Lupin continued to smile and said cheerfully, "Well, of course Severus would have a fit if I let anyone think he was softhearted enough to spare the life of a lab rat. He has a certain reputation to live up to, after all, while I have none." To his amusement, Serafina looked positively dumbfounded; he was quite sure that none of the Slytherins had ever heard anyone refer to their Head of House as "softhearted" before, even in jest.
She recovered her composure quickly. "You named it 'Ki'?"
"Yes, short for 'Kiseki'. It means 'miracle' in Japanese."
"Why would you name a rat 'miracle'?" Serafina asked sharply.
Lupin smiled at her calmly. "Why, isn't it obvious? He ought to be owl food or potion ingredients, yet by some miracle he survived to live out a life of leisure as the pet of a softhearted werewolf."
"Why do you care what happens to a rat?" Serafina demanded. "Why do you care what happens to us?"
{My, my,} Lupin thought, {she's quite talkative today.} Aloud, he said, "'Us'?"
"The Slytherins," she replied, with a look that said she knew that he knew perfectly well what she meant.
Lupin petted Ki and said softly, "Perhaps because as a werewolf I know how it feels to be a misfit and an outcast."
"We don't need your pity," Serafina snapped.
"There is a difference between pity and understanding, Serafina," Lupin said, still in that quiet, serious voice. He wasn't sure if it was trust so much as it was stress that was causing her to open up to himself and Severus; the Death Eater offspring were under a great deal of pressure. From all the things Severus had reported to the Order, Lupin had the uneasy feeling that the final confrontation with Voldemort was coming soon, and he suspected that the children sensed it as well. "I would never pity you, Serafina. Rather, I admire your courage."
"Courage?" she asked suspiciously.
Lupin repressed a sigh. The Gryffindor children were so open and trusting, while the Slytherins were so wary; whenever they saw a smiling face, they seemed to look for a dagger hidden behind the back. But it only increased Lupin's desire to love and protect them. "I know things must have been difficult for you," Lupin explained, "with your father being arrested, and the way some of the other students have taunted you. No one could blame you if you responded in kind, but you did not, and kept your temper and your dignity." And he also admired the strength it must have taken to survive her abusive childhood, but of course he could not tell her that, since he was not supposed to know about it. Then he smiled and added, "Except for that incident with the Hufflepuff boy who ran afoul of a wart-hex."
"There was no proof that I did it," Serafina replied calmly.
"No," Lupin admitted, but his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Just as no one could prove that he was the one who caused your ink bottle to explode."
"Three of my books were ruined!" Serafina said, so indignantly that Lupin had to suppress a laugh. She might be afraid to love people, or even a rat, but she did love her books with a passion. That craving for knowledge also reminded him of Severus.
"You were able to replace them, I hope?" he asked mildly.
"Yes, sir," she replied a bit sullenly. "But it's still a waste of a good book."
"You're right," Lupin agreed. "I couldn't afford to buy many books as a child, so I treasured the ones I had. As a werewolf, I was denied contact with other children until I came to Hogwarts, so I had no friends. But through my books I found escape; I could imagine myself to be a brave knight on a quest, or the servant boy who is actually a prince in disguise..."
"My father doesn't approve of novels," Serafina replied. "He says they're a waste of time that would fill my head with nonsense."
Despite his earlier words to Serafina, Lupin had to fight back a surge of pity. But he did not let it show on his face; instead he grinned and winked at her, saying, "Somehow I doubt you let that stop you." He was rewarded with a very small, nearly imperceptible smile. "For all that they are fiction, there is an inner truth in the old tales that resonates within our hearts, or they would not have survived for so many generations: the stories of the Greek gods and heroes in the Iliad and the Odyssey, the legends of King Arthur, Shakespeare's plays of love and betrayal." He reached out and plucked a book from the shelf behind him. "Here; this is a book of legends dealing with Japanese shapeshifters. It is technically fiction, but you can still learn something about how their magic works from it, so I would consider it quite educational, especially in light of the fact that you are being taught by three shapeshifters. Well, four if you count me."
She hesitated, but he could tell by the longing in her eyes that he had found her one weakness; if Dylan's was his father, then Serafina's was her love for books. {Severus would tell me I'm being as devious as a Slytherin,} Lupin thought in amusement. It was too bad that the Gryffindors couldn't see that Slytherin traits were not always a bad thing.
Serafina gave him a suspicious look, as if wondering if there were some kind of catch attached to this gift, but in the end, she could not resist, and accepted the book. "Thank you, Professor. I'll take good care of it."
"I'm sure you'll guard it fiercely from exploding ink bottles," Lupin replied with another wink, startling her into another smile, a wider one this time. She was really quite pretty when she smiled, especially with those extraordinary violet eyes; it was a pity she didn't do it more often. "Keep it as long as you like."
"Yes, sir," she said. "Thank you. May I be dismissed?"
"Of course. But please feel free to stop by anytime, to talk about class, or just to discuss a good book over a cup of tea."
Serafina nodded and left. Lupin fed Ki another treat and said, "I think you are a good luck charm, my little miracle worker."
***
Between teaching classes and worrying about the Slytherins, Lupin still had certain duties to perform for the Order. One day, accompanied by Arthur Weasley and Karasu (who had reluctantly agreed to trade his Japanese clothing for more conventional wizards' robes in order to avoid attracting attention), Lupin ventured into a seedy section of London located near Knockturn Alley, carrying a large basket. A number of shifty-looking characters eyed them as they passed by, making Arthur very nervous, but a glare from Karasu would cause them to turn away and shrink back into the shadows. Although Lupin was capable of defending himself, he still felt glad that the tengu had insisted on accompanying them as a bodyguard.
Arthur glanced at the scrap of paper in his hand, then looked at the number on a dilapidated apartment building. "This is it," he said. "Our...friends...are in the basement apartment." They descended a rusty staircase, and Arthur knocked on the door, calling out, "It's me, Arthur." A yellowish-green eye peered out through the peephole in the door, then they could hear the sound of locks turning and a chain being pulled back, and the door opened. They entered the room, which was filled with a number of people who looked no less shifty and dangerous than the ones they had encountered on the way here; the man who had opened the door was particularly dangerous-looking, with a lean, wiry build, greasy shoulder-length blond hair, a couple days growth of beard, and feral-looking eyes.
The man nodded curtly at Lupin. "Remus."
Lupin nodded back, in a more polite manner. "Hello, Lukas."
One man looked less dangerous than the others, a young man with dark brown hair, dressed in clean but shabby robes, who seemed a bit afraid of his companions. Lupin recognized him as the patient who had shared Arthur's hospital room, the one who had been bitten by a werewolf.
"Hello, Brian," Arthur said cheerfully. "You remember Remus, don't you?"
Brian smiled bitterly. "Yes, I remember. So that's why you were so nice to me--because you were a werewolf, too. For all I know, it was you who bit me."
"Brian!" Arthur said indignantly.
"It wasn't him," Lukas said, locking the door and leaning casually against the wall. "Don't be an idiot. You told me the wolf who attacked you had black fur; Lupin's hair is brown, and thus his fur would be, too."
"Well, it might just as well have been him--or you, or any of your 'pack'!" Brian retorted.
"Remus is a good little wolf," Lukas said, with a faint hint of contemptuous amusement in his voice. "He always takes his potion, like a good tame dog."
"Yes, I do," Lupin said with a pleasant smile, not allowing the other man to bait him. He had plenty of practice, after all; Lukas was pretty good at insulting people, but nowhere near as good as Severus. He set down the basket on the table that the other werewolves were gathered around. "And I have brought the potion for you and your friends, as promised."
"They're not my friends," Brian muttered.
One young woman with short, spiky black hair snapped, "Then what are you doing here, if you're too good to hang around with the likes of us?"
Brian glared at her. "I have nowhere else to go, and you know it, Kyra!" He turned to Lupin and said, "I had everything--a family, a good job, a beautiful fiancee--and now I have nothing! I lost my job, my fiancee left me, my family wants nothing to do with me...the only people who will associate with me are other outcasts and monsters like me!"
"Oh, stuff it, you little whiner!" Kyra snapped. "At least you have a job!"
"Yes, I suppose I should thank you for that, Arthur," Brian said grudgingly. "It probably wasn't easy finding a person willing to hire a werewolf."
"You're welcome," Arthur said with a smile. He had gotten Brian a job in a used bookstore; the owner was a former classmate who owed him a favor. "How are you getting along?"
Brian shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Mostly I work in back in the stockroom; they don't want the werewolf scaring the customers out front..."
"Whine, whine, whine," muttered Kyra.
"It's not a bad job," Brian admitted. "But I'm a stockboy, for Merlin's sake! I was a young partner in a good firm, eventually set to inherit my father-in-law's business and now--"
"Yes, yes, your dreams for the future went poof, just like the rest of us," Lukas said in a bored voice. "But of course we have Remus as a shining example of how a werewolf can get a respectable job--as long as one has a powerful patron, of course. Have you come to make us more promises you cannot keep, Lupin?"
"I have made you no promises, Lukas," Lupin replied in a level voice. "Dumbledore and the Japanese emissaries have been trying to persuade the Ministry--"
"To grant us equal rights, but they still have not," Lukas finished. "So tell me, why should we fight and die for the people who despise us?"
"Not everyone despises us," Lupin said quietly. "Though I will admit that most of the Ministry officials are ignorant bigots. But there are people like Arthur and Dumbledore who have stood by me as my friends no matter what."
"And Remus's students love him," Arthur added in a hopeful voice. "Even if their parents are prejudiced, the younger generation is learning to look beyond those prejudices."
"Lovely," Lukas said. "Come see me in ten or twenty years, when those children have grown up, and maybe I'll change my mind."
"We don't have ten or twenty years," Lupin said. "Voldemort will strike before then." Arthur, Brian, and most of the other werewolves flinched nervously at the mention of the Dark Lord's name, but Lukas didn't even bat an eye. "If you think life under the Ministry is bad, Lukas, it is nothing compared to what life will be like if the Dark Lord rules the world. There will be nothing but blood and death and terror. He will kill all those who oppose him and enslave the rest. Do not think that you will be spared this fate just because you do not fight on our side; Voldemort despises fence-sitters."
"Then maybe we should join the Dark Lord's side," one of the werewolves said defiantly.
"Go ahead, if you want to become his lapdogs," Lupin retorted.
That finally got a reaction from Lukas, whose head jerked up, an angry look in his eyes. He bared his teeth and snarled at Lupin, "We are no one's lapdogs! Not Dumbledore's and not the Dark Lord's!"
Karasu, who had been watching all this silently, finally spoke. "Go ahead and fight amongst yourselves. This Dark Lord will destroy you all while you do so. If we do not stop him now, we never will. He will conquer your country, then extend his reach outwards until it reaches even my corner of the world. That is what our Seers have seen."
"Seers," Lukas snorted dismissively, but he looked at Karasu with a certain respect in his eyes, one predator recognizing another.
"Do it not for the Ministry," Karasu said, "but for yourselves and for your children, who will die if you are lucky, and live as slaves if you are not."
"Maybe the Dark Lord would treat us better than the Ministry," said the werewolf who had spoken before. Lukas cuffed him sharply, and the werewolf subsided, sullenly rubbing his ear.
"We are no one's slaves!" Lukas snapped.
"The Dark Lord might make you promises," Lupin said in a quiet voice to the werewolf who had suggested joining Voldemort's side, "but he will not keep them. He despises all who are not pureblooded, and we have tainted blood--at least in his eyes, and the eyes of his followers. I may not have been able to offer you much, but remember that at least I have been honest with you and offered no false promises."
"Yes, that is true," Lukas acknowledged, with grudging respect. "I will think upon your words, Remus, but I still do not intend to spill my blood or the blood of my people if I get nothing in return."
"You will get something," Karasu pointed out. "Your lives and your freedom."
"I am not sure that I would call what I have now 'freedom,'" Lukas said. "Perhaps we will run off and live in the woods as wolves, and thus escape both your Ministry and the Dark Lord." He spoke in a light, almost joking tone, but his eyes held no laughter, and were blank and unreadable.
"You would never do that, Lukas," Lupin said gently. "If you were the type to go feral, you would have done it long ago. You value your humanity, or you would not have clung to it for so long, despite the monthly transformations and the self-mutilation. If you were not more man than wolf, you would not have gathered these people to you, to give them a sense of family and belonging."
"Perhaps that is the wolf in me," Lukas retorted. "Perhaps I am merely gathering a pack around me."
"Perhaps," Lupin agreed. "But that is one of the good traits of the wolf--loyalty to the pack. I have my own pack, Lukas, and I would give my life to protect them."
Lukas just grunted, looking annoyed and a little embarrassed. "Well, thanks for the potion, Lupin, but it won't make me change my mind."
Lupin smiled. "I will continue to bring it, no matter what you decide."
"Unless the Dark Lord kills him," Karasu pointed out sardonically. "Think upon that, Pack Leader. If Remus and his friends are killed, who will make your Wolfsbane Potion?"
"We can manage without it if we must," Lukas said, but he seemed a little taken aback.
"Yes, but it's much nicer to pass the full moon without being chained or locked up, isn't it?"
"Enough!" snarled Lukas. He unlocked the door and held open it for them. "Good day, Remus. Perhaps you can leave the crow at home next time."
"Not a very pleasant man," Arthur observed after they left. Lupin started to say something, then decided it was better not to discuss these things in public; one never knew who might be listening.
When they reached the safety of Grimmauld Place, Lupin told Arthur, "You are right; Lukas is not a pleasant man. Years of hardship and prejudice tend to make one bitter. But deep down, I believe he is a good person. He gathered those werewolves together, gave them a home and a place to belong. They all work to support each other, sharing food and shelter with those of the pack who are unemployed. And the companionship they share seems to ease the stress of their transformations slightly."
"He is a strong leader," Karasu observed, "to have gathered all these people together, to have won the trust of people not normally inclined to trust anyone."
"Yes," agreed Lupin. "He is the one we must convince. The Pack Leader, as you so astutely pointed out. The others will follow his lead. He is stubborn, though, and distrustful, not without cause."
"Providing them with the potion was a good start," Karasu said.
Arthur shook his head. "It's criminal that the government won't provide it to anyone who needs it!" The Wolfsbane Potion was available through St. Mungo's or apothecary and potion shops, but only to those who could afford it. And since most werewolves had difficulty finding steady employment, many of them could not afford it, and had to undergo their monthly transformations under restraint, rending their own bodies with teeth and claws.
"Yes," Lupin agreed quietly. "I am very fortunate to have access to the potion myself." Then a thought occurred to him. "Even if the Ministry is balking at granting us equal rights, perhaps they could be persuaded to provide the Wolfsbane Potion to all the werewolves who need it. That, Lukas might find worth fighting for. I'll mention it to Albus."
"I'll support your idea, Remus," Arthur said. "Not that I have much influence, though more than I used to when Lucius Malfoy worked at the Ministry. It's a practical suggestion; werewolves who are taking the potion are unlikely to attack anyone. The problem is, it would cost money to subsidize such a program."
"And the Ministry doesn't like to shell out gold for the likes of a few mangy non-humans," Lupin said bitterly. Even his good nature had its limits, or perhaps Lukas's cynicism was rubbing off on him.
Arthur patted him on the shoulder, saying, "Don't give up, Remus. Perhaps Albus can find some sponsors to help finance the program, or volunteers willing to help brew it, for free or at a reduced cost."
"I'm sure Naoto would be willing to help, too," Karasu said. "We did offer aid such as healing potions to the Order. He can't brew enough for all the werewolves in England by himself, but he and some of the teachers at Mahou Gakkou could at least help brew some potion for your friend Lukas and his pack."
"Severus has several promising young students who are capable of at least assisting with the brewing," Lupin said, cheering up a little. "Perhaps we could start some sort of program at Hogwarts." Then he laughed. "Though I'm sure Lukas would complain about being the guinea pig for some wet-behind-the-ears cub's homework assignment!"
***
Dumbledore badgered the Ministers until he got some grudging and halfhearted cooperation; the Ministry agreed to finance half of the necessary funds for a Wolfsbane Potion distribution program if Dumbledore could find sponsors willing to put up the other half. It took a great deal of time and effort to do so--many businesses made charitable donations to benefit their public image, but helping werewolves was not a very popular cause. Still, with a little persuasion and a little bullying, Dumbledore managed to scrape up--just barely--the necessary funds. A few people did offer their help willingly: Lupin's inventor friend--who had created the magical music boxes and recording spheres--was flush with new wealth, and eager to support Dumbledore's pet project; and Mr. Jigger, the owner of Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, offered to sell them ingredients at cost, with no markup.
Snape was quite impressed when he heard that. "Jigger always drives a hard bargain; never thought he was the charitable type."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind their half-moon glasses as he smiled and said, "People are not always what they appear to be, Severus, as you should well know. Besides, Hogwarts is a good customer of Mr. Jigger's; he probably feels it wouldn't hurt to earn my goodwill. After all, even if he's not making a profit on the ingredients, he isn't losing money on them, either."
"Now that makes more sense," Snape said with a cynical smile.
"You should have more faith in human kindness, my boy," Dumbledore said, and Snape snorted.
But whatever the hidden reasons were behind the sponsors' generosity, they managed to get the distribution program working. Snape put some of his more talented Advanced Potions students to work brewing the potion, "On Dumbledore's orders," he said sourly, complaining loudly about the Headmaster's softheartedness to his classes.
Lukas was mildly impressed, but more with Lupin's and Dumbledore's tenacity than by the Ministry's show of goodwill, which he knew was lukewarm at best. "I know this is more Dumbledore's work than the Ministry's," Lukas said.
"It's a start, Lukas," Lupin told him. "Whatever the reasons, whoever is behind it, at least our people are benefiting from it."
Lukas's eyes softened slightly as he regarded his pack, who looked much healthier and relaxed now that the Wolfsbane Potion was easing their transformations. "A start," he agreed. "But only a start. It's a grudging gift, like a bone tossed to a dog. For that I should send my people out to fight and most likely die? You know, don't you, that going up against You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters is tantamount to suicide?"
"There are fates worse than death," Lupin said quietly. "You must do as you think best, Lukas. For myself, I will fight, to protect my loved ones."
Lukas nodded, looking thoughtful. The werewolf leader was still not ready to commit, but Lupin felt they had made some progress with him.
Evidently, the Dark Lord thought so, too. Not long after the potion distribution program went into effect, the Death Eaters sent messages to Lukas and his followers, promising power and glory if they joined the Dark Lord's side, and a painful death if they did not. This did not sit well with Lukas, who did not take kindly to threats, but he gave them the same answer that he gave Lupin, that he would think about it. The Dark Lord was not pleased with that, and his anger caused him to act rashly and make a major mistake.
The body of one of Lukas's pack members was dumped on the doorstep of their apartment building one morning. Ironically, it was the young werewolf who had suggested joining the Dark Lord during Lupin's earlier visit. His wrists and ankles were bound with silver manacles, and his clothes were torn and soaked with blood although the only visible wound on his body was his slit throat. Lukas felt a surge of rage when he saw that, and nearly transformed on the spot, for all that there was no full moon in sight. Lycanthropes healed nonfatal wounds quickly, and he knew that the Death Eaters must have tortured the werewolf before inflicting the fatal blow. The pain would probably have provoked a transformation even though the moon wasn't full, which explained the silver manacles, which they must have used to restrain the wolf. Lukas threw back his head and howled in anger and mourning. From the apartment windows, the other residents of the building looked out in surprise and then fear, and quickly retreated, drawing back the curtains. Lukas didn't care what they thought; this place was no longer safe, and they would have to move, anyway. That same day he sent Lupin a message that said only: "We will fight."
***
The Dark Lord was growing restless and impatient, and a little desperate. The potions Snape was brewing for him were becoming less and less effective, and soon he needed to supplement them with blood in order to maintain his strength. He sent his Death Eaters out to capture victims to be sacrificed--Muggles, at first, because their disappearances were less likely to be noticed in the wizarding world. They took people who were not likely to be missed, even among the Muggles--homeless people, runaways, prostitutes, and drug dealers--people who vanished every day without anyone noticing or caring. But the sacrifice of a normal person did not provide anywhere near as much power as that of a wizard or magical being, so he sent his Death Eaters to the Forbidden Forest to hunt unicorns for their blood, which had sustained him when he was forced to share Quirrell's body. That turned out to be his second mistake.
A centaur patrol happened upon the Lestranges just as they had slain a unicorn. Enraged, the centaurs attacked, but were no match for the Death Eaters, who slew them all except for one young centaur who was little more than a boy; this would be his first and last patrol. Rabastan was about to finish him off when Bellatrix stopped him.
"Let him die slowly, a long and lingering death, with his hope fading to despair even as the blood drains out of his body," she said, and her brother-in-law and husband laughed along with her in sadistic pleasure. "It's a pity we won't be able to stay behind and watch," she added, giving the boy a mocking kiss on the forehead before they gathered the unicorn blood they had come for, and departed.
The young centaur was too weak to summon up enough strength even to spit at Bellatrix as she taunted him, but he clung to life long enough to be found by a second patrol of centaurs, who had gone out when the first did not return on time. When asked who had done this to him, he whispered, "Three wizards in black robes," and died. All this still might have made no difference, except that the boy was the son of Bane, the leader of the centaurs. After several days of heated debate and seeking signs in the stars and in the fire, they finally sent a message to Firenze, who was still living in exile at Hogwarts...
Part 32
***
Afterword: At this point in the story, I went back to the books to look up info on the centaurs and belatedly realized that I'd accidentally given Bane the raven the same name as one of the centaurs. I had wanted to give Professor Blackmore's raven a sinister-sounding name and "Bane" came to mind, partially influenced by the evil god Bane in the Forgotten Realms setting in the Dungeons and Dragons game--I had completely forgotten about Bane the centaur! It was too late to change the raven's name, so I just stuck with it and hoped that it wouldn't matter too much, since centaur-Bane is mentioned only in passing.
And the character of Lukas was heavily influenced by the werewolf character Lucian in the movie "Underworld"--parts of the movie were a bit silly, but I liked it overall and I really loved Lucian. He influenced Lukas's personality and scruffy looks, but I picture Lukas as looking more like Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn in "Lord of the Rings," but with blond hair. Karasu is modeled after Japanese actor Sorimachi Takashi, specifically his portrayal of Oda Nobunaga in the samurai drama "Toshiie to Matsu" (translation: "Toshiie and Matsu"). I'll try to upload some photos of them later to my Scrapbook.