FIC: Aftermaths, Part 35

[geri_chan]

Title: Aftermaths, Part 35
Rating: NC-17 overall, but most chapters are closer to PG-13
Pairing: Snape/Lupin, Theodore/Blaise, and a few other minor pairings
Word count: ~9,510
Warning: AU; written pre-HBP
Author's notes: {} Indicates character's unspoken thoughts
Disclaimer: No money is being made off this story; consider it a little wish fulfillment on my part.
Sequel to: Always, Summer Vacation, For Old Time's Sake, Three's a Crowd, Return of the Raven, Phoenix Reborn, Phoenix Rising
Summary: Selima recalls how she gave up her first love to marry Severin.

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, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34

***

An owl delivered a note to Selima's dorm room; all it said was, "Meet me by the lake," with no signature, but she recognized the writing and knew who it was from. Fortunately, her roommate was out studying at the library, so she didn't have to make any excuses about where she was going. Her heart racing with a mixture of fear and hope and anger, she hurried off to the lake, taking care not to be seen by anyone.

She found him by the lake, skipping stones across the water's surface. He looked as handsome as ever, but his normal charming grin had been replaced by an anxious frown. "What are you doing here, Prospero?" she asked sharply. "You're not supposed to be here without permission, and I doubt that you registered at the office as a guest."

"Come now, my dear," Prospero said with an attempt at his old grin, but it fell flat. "I am an alumni, after all. I stopped by to visit one of my old teachers so that I'd have an excuse to be on campus."

Selima crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "What do you want, Prospero? Be quick about it; I'll get in trouble if I'm caught sneaking off to meet a boy."

"Yes, Selima," Prospero said bitterly. "You must be very careful about guarding your reputation; I've heard that your parents are negotiating a marriage for you with Severin Snape. Damn it, Selima, did you think I wouldn't hear about it? Did you think I would just stay away when I did?"

"Do you think I have any choice in the matter?" Selima retorted. "This all your fault, anyway, Prospero! You've had two years since graduation to make something of yourself, to become someone my father would consider worthy, and what have you done? Nothing! You had a position at the Ministry--"

"As a low-level clerk!" Prospero interrupted.

"--which could have been a stepping stone to something higher," Selima continued, "but you managed to get yourself fired!"

"Because I wouldn't kiss Lucien Malfoy's lily-white arse!" Prospero snapped.

"For Merlin's sake, Prospero, grow up! That's how people get ahead in the wizarding world, by currying favor with the right people! If you really loved me, you would have done whatever it took to get ahead and win my father's favor, even if meant kissing Lucien Malfoy's lily-white arse, as you put it!"

"Selima, I'm sorry," Prospero said, his expression suddenly changing from angry to guilty. "I'm no good at all the lying and flattering and brownnosing, but just give me a chance--please, don't let them formalize the betrothal! If you can put them off for another few months--"

"And what?" Selima cried. "You'll inherit a fortune? Pray for a miracle? It's too late for that, Prospero! My father might have been willing to betroth me to a young rising star in the Ministry up until a few months ago, but now the Snape Lord is seeking my hand in marriage! You'd have to become Minister of Magic for him to turn such an offer down!"

"You're not seriously considering marrying him, Selima! He's twice your age!"

"He has an important position at the Ministry, and he belongs to one of the oldest and wealthiest families in the wizarding world!"

"And is wealth and position so important to you?" Prospero asked, looking hurt. "More important than us?"

"Don't be an idiot, Prospero!" Selima shouted, then gave him an anguished look. "I don't give a damn about Lord Snape's name or money; I'd marry if you if I could, but--"

Prospero clasped her hands in his. "Then do it! Let's run off and get married, and to hell with Lord Snape!"

Selima angrily jerked her hands away. "I don't want to marry him, Prospero, but I have a duty to my family! They would be disgraced if I did that, and they'd make a powerful enemy in Lord Snape!"

"What duty do you have to a family that would sell their daughter to the highest bidder?" Prospero shouted. "That would marry her off to a stranger twice her age just to make an advantageous alliance?" Selima slapped him hard across the face. He didn't even wince, just stood there with her handprint on his cheek and tears in his eyes. "You won't even inherit anything from them, Selima," he said softly. "You're the eldest child, but your younger brother will inherit the family business and title solely because he is male. If you marry Severin Snape, your family will regard you as a Snape, not a Bashir, and you will have sacrificed your happiness and your future for a family you will no longer be a part of."

"It's my duty," Selima said helplessly, unable to word it in a way that he would understand. "You're a pureblood, Prospero; you ought to understand that."

He shook his head sadly. "I will never understand pureblood politics."

"That much is clear," Selima said tartly. "Else your family fortune would not be in such a state of decline."

"That hurts, Selima."

"The truth hurts, Prospero."

"I love you, Selima," Prospero whispered.

Selima wanted nothing more than to run away with him. She wouldn't even mind living in a hovel, barely scraping together a living if she would be the only one affected--but she would not be; her entire clan would be affected by her actions. "I love you, Prospero," she said in a cold, empty voice. "But love is not enough. I have a duty to my family. You may be willing to shirk yours, but I will not shirk mine."

"You will not change your mind," Prospero said with a sad smile.

It was not quite a question, but Selima answered it anyway. "No."

Prospero turned and walked away without another word. Two weeks later, he let his parents arrange a betrothal to a girl of good family, if not much wealth. {So much for love,} Selima thought bitterly when she heard; how easily he had given up and replaced her with another. She told herself that it was just as well, that she did not want him scandalizing the wizarding world and disgracing her family name by showing up at her wedding to declare his love and attempt to sweep her away like a white knight from some silly fairy tale, but she found no comfort in it. She would not have run off with him, of course, but still, it hurt that he didn't even try.

After careful negotiations, her betrothal to Severin was finalized, and they were wed six months later. During that period of time, she saw her future husband only briefly, in a handful of chaperoned visits that were all quite formal and awkward. There was a suitably grand wedding and reception, attended by all the most important of the pureblood families, and if the bride's smile was more cool and polite than radiantly happy, no one commented upon it.

The servants helped her change out of her bridal finery into a silk nightgown, and left her in the Lord's bedroom, and for the first time, she was alone with her new husband.

Oddly enough, Severin looked a little awkward and ill at ease himself. "You are...ah...very young, Selima, and I'm not sure if...ah..." He coughed, his face turning red. "If your mother has properly...er...prepared you for what to expect on your wedding night..."

Selima felt her own face turn red, but she almost laughed. She had not expected Lord Severin to be so...quaint. Did he really think that any Slytherin, however well-bred, did not know the facts of life? She lifted her head and said coolly, "I am a virgin, of course--" No one would ever offer a Lord of Severin's rank used goods as a bride.

"Of course," Severin said, looking a little amused himself.

"But I assure you that the women of my family have..." She cast her eyes downward in a modest fashion. "...instructed me in my wifely duties." She lifted her gaze again. "I will do my best to please my Lord and bear him an heir." And she profoundly hoped that Lord Severin's tastes were not as debauched as some of the other pureblood men she had heard gossip of.

Severin gave her a cool but approving smile. "No girlish tears or hysterics...you are a sensible girl--no, woman, Selima. I see that I chose well for my bride." He held out his hand, and she took it, and he led her to the bed.

He was not gentle, precisely--for that implied a degree of tenderness that Lord Severin seemed to lack--but he was patient and took care not to cause her pain, or at least, as little pain as possible.

As it turned out, she need not have worried about Lord Severin being debauched. He came to her bed about once a week, but it seemed to be more for the sake of making an heir than for pleasure. He kept up his air of formal distance even in bed, and performed in an efficient, almost mechanical manner. Whenever they went out in public, everyone commented on how lucky he was to have such a beautiful young bride, and he would smile, looking pleased, but in the sort of way one would look pleased if someone had complimented him on a fine piece of art he had just purchased. As far as Selima could tell, he had no mistresses, or male lovers, for that matter, nor did he visit any houses of pleasure--not that she would have minded, so long as he was discreet. It seemed that what passion he possessed was channeled solely into his magical studies and career ambitions.

At first, performing such an intimate act with someone who was essentially a stranger was rather embarrassing, but Selima did her duty to her husband without complaint, and did her best to hide her embarrassment. And after awhile, she did not have to feign her composure; in a way, it helped that her husband was so distant. Sex became simply a necessary physical act to be performed. After the first time, it was never again painful, but nor did Severin arouse any great passion in her, and he never said he loved her, but neither did she want him to. She'd had love before with Prospero, and the result had been ultimately unsatisfying: a short time of sweet and heady infatuation ending in heartache and frustration. No, she told herself, she'd had her fill of love. She and Severin lived in harmony, if not passion, and that was much more satisfying. Or so she told herself.

That harmony was not always easy to achieve; Severin was a blunt man, not given to flattery and compliments, and he was more prone to give orders than requests. He was also extremely stubborn and would never admit he was wrong, even when he knew he was. Still, he had one thing in his favor, and that was the fact that he treated her with respect. He didn't want a simpering, helpless plaything, as he made clear on their wedding night; he wanted someone sensible. He expected her to defer to him in public, but in private, he did appreciate and make use of her talents. Not long after they married, she humbly inquired if she might go over the Snape financial accounts and the new business acquisitions that had been part of her dowry. Severin consented, and soon she took over the bookkeeping and oversaw all the Snape business dealings. Severin supervised her carefully at first, double-checking her records and calculations, but once he saw that she was reliable and knew what she was doing, he left all such matters in her hands from then on, and even deferred to her advice on business matters.

Meanwhile, months passed by, still with no sign of an heir. Severin did not complain, but Selima could tell that he was disappointed. Adding insult to injury was the fact that Prospero's wife seemed to conceive the moment after they were married, giving birth to a son almost exactly nine months later.

"Perhaps," Selima ventured hesitantly, "I could speak to a Healer about certain herbs or potions to help me conceive..."

Severin thought it over, then shook his head. "No, not yet. I want a strong and healthy heir, and well...there is no proof, but I am worried that producing a child by artificial means could result in some hidden flaw. We have not been married long, Selima, and these things take time. My own mother did not get pregnant until she had been married to my father for almost five years. I suppose we must be patient and let nature take its course."

Selima was somewhat reassured by his words, but she still worried that his patience might eventually run out; wives had been put aside in the past for failing to bear children. There was nothing she could do to rush conception, but she did work hard to make herself indispensable to her husband in other areas, such as her handling of the finances and her skill as a hostess. In the world of pureblood politics, a dinner party was not simply an occasion to enjoy good food and company, but a carefully planned event where alliances could be made or broken. Severin knew how to play politics well enough to have obtained a job at the Ministry, but he was too blunt and stubborn to be a master of it the way his friend Lucien Malfoy was. But Selima, who was raised in a merchant clan where one's livelihood depended on one's ability to flatter and negotiate, could orchestrate a party with as much skill and finesse as a master composer might a symphony. She knew exactly whom to invite, and whom not to invite, carefully keeping track of who was feuding with whom, and of who was in favor with the reigning elite and who was not. She always remembered the names of her guests' spouses and children and dogs, and always remembered to inquire politely about them. She knew how to charm and flatter the high-ranking Ministry officials without being obsequious, and more importantly, without offending their wives. She knew when to whisper a compliment or a veiled threat into the right ear at just the right moment; she knew when a bribe was needed to smooth the way, and how to handle it delicately enough so that it didn't seem like a bribe. She also maneuvered behind the scenes with the other pureblood wives, trading gossip and information and favors, and many an important contract or promotion was set into motion by a casual comment by a wife at the dinner table or in the bedroom, at a moment when she knew her husband would be most receptive.

There were many gala affairs at Snape Manor, and before long, an invitation to one of Selima's parties became highly coveted among the pureblood elite. Severin didn't particularly enjoy these parties, but he understood their necessity, and responded with his cool but approving smile when people complimented him on what a lovely and gracious hostess his wife was. Severin's stock rose rapidly thanks to Selima's social maneuvering, and he was well aware of it.

"Your wife is a real treasure, Severin," the Minister of Magic said one night as the latest party at Snape Manor came to a close. "You are a lucky man."

"Indeed I am, Minister."

The Minister took Selima's hand and kissed her fingertips, and she modestly lowered her lashes and averted her gaze. "You are too kind, Minister."

"No, I am being perfectly honest, Lady Selima. Thank you for a wonderful dinner."

"Thank you for coming, Minister."

"Let me see you out, Minister," Severin said.

Selima was supervising the cleanup in the dining room when Severin returned with a wide grin on his face, his eyes shining triumphantly. "I've been promoted to Department Head! The Minister just told me on the way out!"

"Oh, Severin, that's wonderful!"

"And it's all thanks to you!" Severin laughed. "The way you've flattered the Minister and his cronies, and stroked their egos, all the dinners spent gradually gaining their trust and favor over the months. He flat out told me that I had my lovely wife to thank for my promotion!"

Some men might have resented that remark, but Severin did not, and it was one of his few redeeming qualities. He might not be charming, he might be brusque and even cold at times, but he acknowledged her talents, and gave respect where it was due.

"This is only the beginning, Selima," Severin said, placing his hands on her shoulders, his eyes still shining. "A stepping stone to an even higher position. Who knows, maybe one day you'll even be the wife of the Minister of Magic!"

"Lord Minister," she laughed.

"Lady Minister," he said with a grin. "I knew I chose well when I married you!" Then, to her utter shock and amazement, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly.

It was not one of their scheduled nights to attempt making an heir (as Selima had come to think of it), but Severin told her to leave the cleanup to Vorcher, and they took a bottle of champagne upstairs to celebrate. Their lovemaking was unusually ardent that night (for the first and last time), as for once, Severin's passion for ambition carried over into the bedroom. And ironically enough, it was then, when they weren't even trying, that they conceived an heir a few months into their second year of marriage.

Selima was relieved to have finally become pregnant, and even more relieved when the Healer told her that the child would be a boy. "Well done," Severin told her, in the same approving but slightly impersonal tone he used when praising one of her successful parties. He was busy with his new job and wasn't home much, but he hired extra servants to look after her and the house, and, gently prodded by Vanessa Malfoy, bought her a set of black pearl jewelry as a gift.

"It looks lovely, dear," Vanessa said, admiring Selima's new jewelry over tea one afternoon. "It really suits your coloring, and matches your hair and eyes."

"I know that I have you to thank," Selima said with an ironic smile. "Severin would never have been able to pick these out on his own. He usually just gives me some money and tells me to buy something nice for myself."

Vanessa laughed. "Men are hopeless at these things, dear! Some more than others. But Severin is a good husband and a good provider."

"Yes, he is," Selima said, and it was true, but she wondered why she didn't feel happier about it. Maybe it was because her closest friend Anya Gravenor had made a love-match with Cynric Diggory, and she had to watch the two of them being blissfully happy together. Still, she couldn't hate Anya, who was the one person she could truly trust and confide in. Anya was suprisingly sweet and kind for a Slytherin, and had no interest in playing politics, and had been lucky enough to fall in love with a man of wealth and good breeding who loved her too.

"Are you happy, Selima?" Anya asked anxiously one day.

"I am content," Selima replied.

"But you and Prospero--"

Selima shook her head. "No. That is over and done with. He is married now, and so am I. It was nothing more than youthful infatuation. He is handsome and charming, but such things fade over time. What would be left for us when our youthful beauty faded and our passion for each other burned out? I would have come to resent him for ruining my reputation and that of my family's, and he would have come to hate me for resenting him."

"Passion doesn't always fade," Anya said softly.

"We cannot all be as lucky as you and Cynric," Selima snapped, then gently laid her hand over Anya's when her friend looked hurt. "I thank you for your concern, Anya, but there is no point in dwelling on the past. Severin is a good man; he respects me, and he treats me as if I have a brain in my head, which is more than most pureblood wives can say."

Anya giggled. "Like Elaine?"

Selima laughed. "Well, in her case, her husband's attitude might be justified, because she is completely witless!"

After months of morning sickness and feeling bloated and ungainly as a whale, Selima finally gave birth to her son after several hours of painful labor. The midwife laid the squalling, red-faced baby in her arms, but she felt no motherly tenderness, only relief that the labor was finally over; perhaps it was simply the pain and exhaustion.

But even after she recovered, she didn't seem to feel the same way Anya did; her friend gave birth to a son of her own a few months after Severus was born, and she positively doted on little Cyril. Selima dutifully nursed her baby and picked him up when he cried, but she didn't feel the urge to hold and cuddle him for the sheer pleasure of it, the way Anya did her son. Maybe it was because he looked so much like his father, with that beak of a nose, and reminded her of the bargain she had made, trading a chance for a life like Anya's for a cool, proper, loveless marriage so that her family might make an alliance and give a bigger inheritance to her brother, an inheritance she would see nothing of, though she was just as skilled a merchant as any of the men in her family.

"It is to my advantage, too," she whispered to herself one day in the nursery. "I am the wife of a great Lord, and the mother of the Snape heir. My blood will flow through this child and his descendants to come. One day my husband might become Minister, or perhaps my son, and that is surely higher a position than being head of the Bashir clan."

If she could not be a loving mother, she resolved to be a dutiful one, and did her best to raise and educate her son, and prepare him for his role as the future Snape Lord. Severin came to her bed only rarely after Severus was born, as if it were no longer necessary now that he had his heir, and quite frankly, that was fine with Selima. He also took little interest in his son until Severus was old enough to hold an intelligent conversation, and left his early upbringing almost entirely to Selima.

Severus was a clever and for the most part obedient, if somewhat sullen, child. He learned quickly, and rarely made the same mistake twice--perhaps due to the fact that Severin punished his son's mistakes with a Cruciatus or other pain-giving curse. That was, perhaps, a harsher punishment than Selima would have chosen, but Severin was the Lord of the household and she deferred to his judgment. Maybe she would have fought him on it if she had felt the same affection for her son that Anya felt for Cyril, instead of merely a vague sense of guilt and duty.

Still, it did not seem to hurt him overmuch; Severus was quiet and respectful, and did as he was told. He was an extremely adept mage who quickly learned what his parents taught him, and progressed even further studying on his own; he was able to cast spells far beyond the level of most children his age. Selima was a little disappointed to discover that her son would never possess her skill at socializing, but she was able to teach him enough to get by in pureblood society. When he grew older, she would help smooth the way for him, as she had for his father, and someday she would find him a wife who would do the same.

He did inherit his father's temper and stubbornness, however, which manifested itself occasionally but at inopportune times, such as when he hexed a neighbor's child the year before he was due to enter Hogwarts. The child's parents raised a huge fuss, which led to a visit from the Headmaster himself. Oddly enough, Dumbledore took a liking to Severus, and stopped by often to see him. Selima and Severin were relieved that Severus would not be barred from Hogwarts, but were worried as well as flattered by the Headmaster's interest in their son; he was an extremely influential wizard, but he was also what Severin called a "bleeding heart liberal," and they didn't want their son being influenced by Dumbledore's Gryffindor ideals.

Their fears would later prove to be justified, but at first, they saw nothing to worry about. Severus made friends with the proper children in Slytherin, including Lucien and Vanessa's son, Lucius, and continued to do well in his studies. Sometimes he got into trouble for hexing the Gryffindor boys, but it seemed to be nothing more than the usual boyish mischief, and although Severin was outwardly annoyed, inwardly he was a little pleased, as it seemed proof that Severus had not been corrupted by Dumbledore's idealism.

In the meantime, Selima saw less of her friend Anya, as Cyril had developed some sort of serious illness that kept him homebound and bedridden most of the time. Then Cynric and Cyril were killed in an accident when their carriage crashed in a thunderstorm, and Anya was overwhelmed by grief and seemed to lose her will to live. When Selima saw her at the funeral, her face was ghostly white, and her eyes empty and haunted. She was taken back to her parents' estate to rest and recover, and Selima never saw her again. Anya never came to London or Snape Manor to visit, and sent only a few sporadic letters; within three years she was dead, joining her husband and son in the grave.

Selima and Severin gradually began to grow worried about their son's friendship with Lucius Malfoy and his cronies. Lucien Malfoy was a supporter of Lord Voldemort at first, but Severin refused to have anything to do with Voldemort or the Death Eaters, even at the urging of his friend and ally. While Severin would have liked to have seen the purebloods restored to their former glory, the outcome of the war was by no means certain, and he was not fool enough to risk imprisonment or execution for treason if things did not turn out as planned. Besides, although Voldemort said that "we purebloods" would rule, Severin suspected that there would be only one ruler, and he was not eager to trade the bureaucracy of the Ministry, inept as it was, for the tyranny of a dictator. However, mindful of the possibility that Voldemort might win in the end, neither did Severin openly support Dumbledore.

But Severus, in a rare act of rebellion, joined the Death Eaters against Severin's advice, and Selima's well-ordered life began to fall apart. Severus moved out of Snape Manor after graduation, and was drawn ever deeper into Lucius Malfoy's plots. Meanwhile, Lucien began to have second thoughts as the war escalated and grew more bloody, and privately conceded that Severin might have been right, after all. Not long after that, a mysterious plague swept through Wiltshire, where the Malfoys lived, killing many people, including Lucien and Vanessa. Lucius and his new wife were conveniently away from home at the time on their honeymoon.

Finally, Voldemort fell, and Severin disowned his son, partly to protect the Snape name, and partly out of anger that Severus had defied him. Selima urged him to wait; Severus had not been officially charged as a Death Eater, and perhaps there was still some way that they might be able to salvage the situation. Lucius Malfoy certainly smooth-talked and bribed his way out of trouble easily enough. But although he would listen to her advice on most things, in this Severin refused to be swayed, and Severus remained disinherited.

But to everyone's surprise, Severus was never charged, and Dumbledore hired him to teach at Hogwarts, in what seemed to be a demonstration of trust and faith, even giving him a position of responsibility as both Potions Master and Head of Slytherin. Severin began to regret his hasty decision, but was too proud to revoke it. Selima quietly let word spread that Severin would accept his son back into the family if Severus would come home and ask his forgiveness, but the son proved as stubborn as the father, both of them refusing to bend.

Severin and Selima tried halfheartedly to conceive a new heir, but nothing came of those efforts, and they soon gave it up. In Severin's mind, there seemed to be no point, as he had lost his influence and Ministry position, thanks to Lucius Malfoy's spite, and he refused to swallow his pride and curry favor with "that treacherous, backstabbing piece of slime." He retreated to Snape Manor, dismissing all the human servants, keeping only Vorcher, and settled into a life of seclusion, burying himself in his magical studies. It hurt to see the sly, gloating glances, and hear the whispers behind her back, but Selima refused to withdraw from pureblood society as her husband had. She kept up her "friendships" and her contacts, continued to have tea and socialize, holding her head high and pretending not to hear the gossip about how far the Snapes had fallen. She was laying out the foundation for a return to power, not wanting to completely burn her bridges behind her. They still had an heir, after all, even though he was disowned, and there was always a chance that he might return home...

***

Lady Selima pushed back her veil, then raised her glass to her lips with a trembling hand, and took a long drink of wine, knowing that she had already drunk too much, and at the same time, not enough. She had not loved Severin, and she did not exactly mourn him, but she felt hollow and empty inside. All her life, her identity had been defined by her relationship to someone else: daughter of the Bashir clan, wife of the Snape Lord...she had never been just "Selima" to anyone but Prospero and Anya, and they were both lost to her, in different ways. If she was no longer Severin's wife, she didn't really know who she was anymore. Now that Severus was Lord Snape, Selima was technically no longer Lady Snape; that title would have gone to his wife if he'd had one, so perhaps she should be grateful that he'd chosen the werewolf as his lover. No doubt Severus would let her retain the title and keep running the estate, but only because he didn't want it, and he had the power to throw her out of the manor at any time. Of course, that would be considered dishonorable and disgraceful by his pureblood peers, but Severus had made it clear that he didn't give a damn what people thought of him. She didn't for a moment think he would really do that, but suddenly she set her glass down, buried her face in her hands, and began to cry, not knowing why she was weeping.

The door opened, and Lupin stepped into the room. "Lady Selima?" he asked softly. "Are you all right?"

She looked up, aghast, and snapped, "Don't you know how to knock, Professor?!"

Lupin closed the door behind him, smiled gently, and offered her a handkerchief. "I was going to knock, but I was afraid that you'd tell me to go away."

Selima snatched the handkerchief from him and wiped the tears from her face. "Well, you would be right!" she snapped. Oddly enough, being angry at the werewolf was making her feel a little better, or at least was helping her keep the tears at bay.

Lupin's face was filled with that same look of gentle concern he often regarded Severus and Theodore with. "Would you like me to get someone to keep you company?" he asked. "Severus is--"

"Merlin, no!" she exclaimed. Her son was the last person she wanted to find her weeping!

"Well, perhaps someone else from your family, then, your mother or brother...?"

Selima laughed harshly. "You've seen my family, Professor Lupin; can you really picture them offering comfort to anyone?"

"Er...well..." Lupin said, obviously too polite to state the truth, which was that her family looked like a cold-blooded bunch (because they were). "Your cousin Ali seems like a decent sort..."

"Ali can be charming when he wishes to be, but I don't care to cry upon his shoulder," Selima said with a small, twisted smile. "And be careful about buying anything from him; he could steal the clothes off your back and sell them to you at twice what they're worth before you realized what had happened."

Lupin laughed. "Well, I'll be more impressed with his negotiation skills if he can actually get Arthur to lift the ban on flying carpets! Though he already has a number of eager potential clients if that happens, including my own foster sons. Theo and Dylan were quite taken with the carpet in the library." Selima smiled a little, and Lupin added, "Are you sure there isn't anyone I can get? A friend, maybe..."

"I don't have any friends, Professor," Selima said bitterly. "The only real friends I ever had are dead, and the others are merely acquaintances, political allies who flatter you when you have something they want, and laugh at you behind your back when you suffer misfortune. I came here to get away from them."

"I'm sorry, Lady Selima."

The werewolf's gentle, kindly voice somehow triggered the flow of tears again. Lifting the handkerchief to her eyes, she said, "Please just go away and leave me alone, Professor."

Lupin did not leave, but instead pulled up a chair and sat next to her. Selima noticed that for all his polite words, he always ended up doing whatever he wanted, and was just as infuriatingly stubborn as Severus was--he was just a little more subtle about it. "There's no shame in crying, Lady Selima," he said quietly. "You have just laid your husband to rest today; surely you're entitled to a few tears." When Selima did not respond, he cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "You must miss him."

Selima threw back her head and laughed, bitterly and a little hysterically. "This was an arranged marriage, Professor, not one of your little Gryffindor love-matches!"

"That doesn't mean you can't miss him," Lupin said in a reasonable tone of voice. "He was a part of your life for forty years."

Selima blinked and stared at him in confusion. "I don't know if I miss him, exactly..."

"Did you love him?" Lupin asked in a conversational tone, and strangely, Selima was not offended.

"No," she instantly replied. "There were times when I didn't even like him. But..." Lupin waited patiently while she tried to sort her thoughts out. "I respected him," she finally said. "And for all his faults, he respected me. He treated me like a person instead of just some pretty trophy to show off to his friends, or a brood mare to bear his children. I'm not sure if you realize how rare that is among the pureblood elite."

"Oh, I have an idea," Lupin said softly, his eyes looking grave and thoughtful. "I saw how Narcissa always deferred to Lucius without question, and I saw how Andreas and Thaddeus treated their wives like property instead of people. And I see the way most of the Slytherin girls talk of nothing but their looks and cute boys and who their parents might marry them off to."

Selima nodded. "I had more power than most pureblood women, save for those families like the Donners and the Blackmores who pass the title down matrilineally. Severin respected my abilities and listened to my advice." She grimaced a little, thinking of how he had disowned Severus. "Well, most of the time, anyway."

"There's a saying, isn't there," Lupin said lightly, "that behind every great man is a woman?"

"Well, I'm not sure that you could call Severin a great man," Selima said with a wry smile. "Though he certainly aspired to become one--he had dreams of becoming Minister of Magic one day. I'm not sure that he ever would have achieved that goal; he wasn't as tactless as Severus is, but he wasn't very good at flattering people, and he didn't suffer fools gladly. But that was my job as his wife, you see--to flatter the proper people, to throw parties and make connections and alliances..."

"I'm sure you were very good at it," Lupin said.

Selima gave him a suspicious look, wondering if he was either patronizing or mocking her, but his face looked earnest and sympathetic. "I was," she said firmly, then sighed and threw up her hands in frustration. "But it all went to hell when Voldemort came along. Even though Voldemort fell, Lucius came to power and cast down my husband for failing to support him. He took from us our son and Severin's career."

Lupin gave her an odd look that she couldn't quite read, but there seemed to be a hint of both guilt and accusation in it. "Lucius is partly to blame for Severus joining the Death Eaters, but there were other contributing factors..."

"I suppose you probably think that one of those factors was Severin," Selima said wearily. "I know you think that Severin was a monster for cursing Severus as a child, and probably that I'm one as well for not stopping him, but...Severin was not a bad man. A hard man, but not a bad one. He was an honorable man, in his own way, perhaps not in a way that a Gryffindor would understand, but there were lines that he would not cross, things that he would not do for any amount of power or money. If he gave his word on something, he would never break it. Maybe that doesn't mean much to you, Professor, but not many of his peers can say the same."

"I believe you," Lupin said quietly. "I don't condone what he did, but I believe you. Albus said much the same thing earlier today, didn't he? That he respected Lord Severin even if he didn't always agree with him, because he held fast to his own code of honor."

"Yes," Selima whispered, and the tears began to spill out of her eyes again. Lupin reached out, then abruptly stopped, his hand hovering in the air over her shoulder, an almost helpless expression on his face as he correctly realized that Selima would not want a comforting touch or embrace from him. Lupin let his hand fall back to his side, and Selima swiped at her eyes impatiently with the handkerchief.

"I'm not weeping for Severin," she said crossly. "I'm feeling sorry for myself, because a pureblood woman's power lies in her husband, and now I have no husband, and hence, no true power of my own. I have nothing." She couldn't seem to stop crying, and she shouted at Lupin, "Will you go away, Professor, and leave me alone?!"

Predictably, Lupin ignored her. "It's not true that you have nothing, Lady Selima," he said gently. "You have Severus and Theodore."

She shook her head, laughing mirthlessly as the tears continued to stream down her face. "I am a stranger to Theodore; he cares nothing for me. And Severus hates me. I suppose I can't really blame him."

"Severus's feelings are a little more complicated than simple hate," Lupin said solemnly. "We hate most those whom we love best, when we believe that they have betrayed us."

"I suppose your simple Gryffindor mind can't quite grasp the concept," Selima said waspishly, "but Severus doesn't love me. People don't necessarily love each other just because they are kin, you know."

"Do you love Severus?" Lupin asked quietly, and Selima just stared at him in shock. "Did you ever, when he was a child?" he persisted, gently but determinedly, staring directly into her eyes, not accusingly, but intently, as if he very much wanted to know the answer.

Instead of telling him to mind his own business, she found herself whispering, "I...I don't know. Love is not a common commodity among the Slytherin elite. I...gave up on love when I married Severin. I had to, in order to do my duty. I tried to feel...nothing." Lupin's expression softened a little, and his face filled with compassion, and like a dam breaking, all the pain she had repressed for the past four decades came pouring out along with her tears. "Maybe that is why...I had nothing left for Severus," she gasped between sobs. "I couldn't be a loving mother to him...but I tried...I tried to be a good mother. I taught him all I could, of magic and politics and etiquette. I taught him what I thought he needed to know in order to survive and advance in pureblood society. Maybe it wasn't enough...but I did the best that I could. I did my best..." Her voice trailed off, and she sat there sobbing hysterically and not really knowing who she was weeping for--Severin, Severus, or herself...the widow who had lost her husband and her identity, or the young girl who had given up her dreams to do her duty. All of them, perhaps.

"I believe you," Lupin said, then hesitantly reached out and laid his hand over hers, and she let him. That was all he did; he didn't try to embrace her, or even clasp her hand, but that light touch seemed to serve as an anchor that kept her from being swept away. After several minutes, she finally stopped weeping, and Lupin pulled his hand away as she wiped her face with the handkerchief, which was by now getting a little soggy.

Lupin pushed the wineglass towards her, but she shook her head. "Something a little stronger, I think," she said. "Severin keeps some cognac in that cupboard over there."

Lupin retrieved the expensive bottle of cognac, and poured out two glasses. Selima knew that Severin would have had a fit if he could see the werewolf drinking his good liquor, but at this moment, she didn't particularly care. She lifted her glass in an ironic toast, and Lupin clinked his glass against hers. Lupin took a sip and raised his eyebrows. "My, Lord Severin certainly had very discriminating tastes, at least in liquor."

"Indeed," Selima said. By the time they both finished their second glass, Selima was feeling almost mellow, but it was difficult to tell if the werewolf had been affected by the alcohol, as he wore that same gentle, serene smile on his face that he always did. "By the way, Professor," Selima said in a conversational tone, "if you ever repeat what I told you here today, I'll kill you."

"You'll have to get in line behind Severus," Lupin told her, still smiling. "He's promised to turn me into a wolfskin rug I don't know how many times. Lukas occasionally wants a piece of my hide, too."

"Lukas?" Selima asked.

Lupin looked chagrined; that had obviously slipped out without his meaning to say it--perhaps the cognac had affected him, after all. "Ah, Lukas Bleddri, a fellow werewolf and teacher at Hogwarts."

"Oh yes," Selima said in a bored tone, and Lupin looked relieved. "I think I read something about him in the Daily Prophet."

Lupin changed the subject. "It's not my place to repeat what you told me," he said, his face serious now. "Because I think you need to say those things to Severus yourself."

Selima shook her head. "What for? It's at least twenty or thirty years too late for any apologies or explanations. Severus hates me; I can't change that. I'm just satisfied that he's returned home to assume the Lordship and do his duty, in a manner of speaking."

"Damn it, Selima!" Lupin snapped, slamming his hands down on the desk, and Selima stared at him in surprise. It was the first time he had ever raised his voice to her, and the first time he had ever dropped the polite preface "Lady" before her name. "It's too late for Severin to mend things with his son because he's dead, but it's not too late for you! Severus has returned home, however reluctantly, and you have a second chance--do you have any idea how rare an opportunity that is?"

"It's been too long," Selima protested, still feeling stunned. "Too much time has passed, too many grudges and years of animosity. And I don't know how to be a loving mother, Professor. I'm not sure I could change even if I wanted to, and I'm not sure that I want to."

"Damn it," Lupin repeated, looking frustrated. "It's too late to forge the kind of close relationship the Weasleys have with their children," he said bluntly. "That needs to be built up over a lifetime. But you have a chance to at least build something more than what you have now, something more than bare tolerance and grudging adherence to duty. And while you may be a stranger to Theodore, at least that means you have the chance to start off with a clean slate." Lupin's lips formed a bitter smile that was better suited to Severus's face. "And Theo's biological family was so horrible that you and Severin look almost good by comparison--a somewhat dubious honor, but you might as well take advantage of it. He respects you, a little--let that grow into something more. He is your grandson, Selima, by your own choice. Be a grandmother to him in truth as well as name."

"Well, you Gryffindors are certainly given to self-righteous speeches," Selima replied, trying for an indignant tone, but it came out a little shaky.

Lupin leaned in close and said to her softly, "You and Severus are the same. You've built up walls around yourselves to keep everyone at bay and keep from being hurt. The only problem is, it starts to get a bit lonely in there after awhile, doesn't it?"

"You have no right to speak to me this way," Selima whispered.

"Tearing down those walls is the hardest thing Severus has ever done," Lupin persisted. "It's not easy, and the work still isn't complete, and maybe it never will be, but at least he's trying. I built a few walls of my own, and I know how scary it can be to risk letting someone else inside--"

"I am not afraid!" Selima snapped.

Lupin smiled, looking almost smug. "Then prove it," he said. "Match your son's bravery."

Selima realized that Lupin was using her pureblood pride to trap her, and she was furious, yet at the same time felt a bit of grudging respect for him. It was an almost Slytherin bit of manipulation. "I need prove nothing to you! I owe you nothing, werewolf!"

"No, you don't," Lupin agreed. "You owe it to Severus."

"I am not capable of loving anyone!" Selima protested, feeling almost panicky; damn the werewolf for making her feel this way! "Whatever capacity I had for love was burned out decades ago!"

"I don't believe that's true, Selima," Lupin said quietly.

"I didn't give you permission to use my name!"

"I didn't ask," Lupin said calmly.

Selima stared at him for a moment, then began to laugh, a little hysterically. "I can't believe that time and again, I have been outmaneuvered by a werewolf! You would have made a good merchant, Lupin!"

"I'm very stubborn," Lupin said with a smile, "and quite annoying, or so I am often told."

"I don't know how," Selima said helplessly. "I don't know where to start."

"Well, you can't do it all at once," Lupin said practically. "I think we're both agreed that Severus might have a stroke if you suddenly tried to smother him with hugs and kisses." Selima snorted, in a very unladylike manner, and Lupin smiled. "You need to start off slowly, I think, with small gestures." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, you've both made a good start." Selima gave him a puzzled look, and he explained, "You agreed, however grudgingly, to accept me and Theodore and Dylan as part of Severus's life; you agreed to accept Theodore as the Snape heir even though he is not of your blood. For Severus's part, he returned home when you asked him to. I'm not sure you understand how hard it was for him, not just to come back, but to spend the weekend here and sleep under this roof once again. This house holds many painful memories for him." He said it matter-of-factly, not accusingly, but Selima still found herself flushing. Then Lupin smiled and said softly, "But it holds a few good memories for him now, too, because he is now a father, and the boys are here with him. Continue as you have been doing, Lady Selima, and try to build on that gradually. You could invite us to tea again, for example, and discuss the Snape histories with Theodore; he seems to enjoy them. You could take Theo to see some of the businesses the Snape family owns, as you suggested during an earlier visit. It would probably gain you some points with Severus if you invited Dylan, too. You could come see Theo and Dylan play Quidditch in their upcoming match next month."

"I'll...try," Selima said hesitantly. In the end, it was not so much duty or guilt or some hidden streak of Gryffindorish sentimentality that made her give in, but simply the fear of being alone, left in this huge mansion with no company but an elderly house-elf. Selima, who had always believed herself to be independent and self-reliant, was chagrined to discover this unexpected weakness, but could no longer deny that it was there.

There was a knock at the door. "Mother?" Severus called. "Are you in here?"

"Severus?" Selima said, startled, and her son took that as permission to enter.

He stared at her, looking shocked and even a little concerned. "Are you all right, Mother?" he asked, sounding alarmed.

Selima suddenly realized that she must be quite a sight--red eyes, tear-stained face, and smudged make-up. "I'm fine, Severus," she said in a cool voice.

He stared at her suspiciously. "Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, I can ask Madam Pomfrey to take a look at you--"

"I'm fine, Severus," she repeated firmly, feeling strangely touched and a little hopeful that he sounded so concerned. She wondered if she'd been spending too much time with the werewolf; perhaps Gryffindor sentimentality was contagious.

"And what are you doing here, Lupin?" Severus asked his lover, still looking suspicious.

Lupin shrugged. "I'm not used to formal gatherings like these; I just wanted to get away from the crowd for a little bit, and so did Lady Selima. We were just talking and--" He smiled and held up his empty glass. "--sharing some of Lord Severin's cognac."

Lupin's response didn't do anything to ease Severus's suspicions. "Well," he said, looking back and forth from Lupin to Selima, "you've both been gone for awhile, and the guests are starting to ask where you are, Mother."

"I had a headache," Selima said. "I just needed to rest for a bit."

"Surely a new widow is entitled to a little privacy if she wants," Lupin interjected.

"It was Mother who reminded me many times today," Severus said sarcastically, "that we have a duty to our guests." Lupin glared at him, and he added, "But if you're really not feeling well, Mother, I'll make your excuses. I can't say that I would be sorry to see this party come to an end."

"No," Selima said quickly, rising to her feet. "I'm fine now. Let me go freshen up, and I'll be out in a few minutes."

"All right," Severus said, still looking rather confused. "I'd better get back; I've left Theodore in the ballroom as the sole Snape representative. Are you coming, Lupin?"

"Yes," Lupin said cheerfully. "Come, let's go rescue poor Theodore."

Selima went to the bathroom, and when she looked into the mirror, she saw that she did indeed look a fright--no wonder Severus had been worried! She washed her face, but didn't bother reapplying any makeup, pulling the veil down over her face to disguise her still-red eyes and lack of cosmetics. If people thought she looked a little pale, well, she was a grieving widow, after all.

She returned to the reception, assuring her guests that she was fine, and had only needed to rest for a few minutes. Despite Severus's concerns, Theodore seemed to be holding his own, but then, he had been trained as a pureblood heir even before he became a part of the Snape family. Priscilla Parkinson was sending some thinly-veiled barbs Theodore's way as her granddaughter Pansy shot her annoyed looks in return.

"It's a pity that you had to give up the Nott estate, Theodore, but I suppose it's just as well. Becoming a Snape is a step up, and it's best not to be tainted by association with the Death Eaters..."

"Grandmother!" Pansy snapped.

"What, dear?" Priscilla asked innocently. "I am only stating a fact..."

Theodore's face remained calm and bland as he replied, "No, it's fine, Pansy. It is a pity that Thaddeus and Marta Nott--" Selima noticed that he carefully avoided calling them his parents, which would have been a social blunder, as it would imply that he still considered himself a Nott instead of a Snape. "--were misled by false promises into making unwise choices, but so were many others." He paused to take a sip from his glass--water, not wine--while Priscilla's face turned a little red at that subtle reminder that her family had also fallen prey to Lucius Malfoy's blandishments, even though they had not joined the Death Eaters. "But I am sure that Terrence will be a good caretaker of the Nott estate," Theodore finished, smiling at Priscilla politely.

Lupin was standing nearby talking with one of the Hogwarts teachers, but Selima could see that he was keeping an eye on Theodore, and was probably ready to intervene if things got heated. Clearly that wasn't going to be necessary, though, and Lupin had an amused smile on his face. From across the room, Severus was scowling and casting suspicious glances in the Parkinsons' direction as he tried to extricate himself from a conversation with the Baddocks.

As Priscilla pouted (which looked ridiculous in a woman her age), obviously annoyed that Theodore hadn't risen to her baiting, Selima glided over and said, "You were just a little girl when I saw you last, Pansy--what a lovely young woman you have grown into. Don't you think so, Theodore?"

"Yes, Grandmother," he replied politely.

"Thank you, Lady Selima," Pansy said. "Are you feeling better? Grandmother said you weren't feeling well."

"I am very well, thank you. I just needed to rest for a little while." Selima laid a hand on her grandson's arm. "Your father is looking cranky, Theodore," she said lightly. "Come, let us rescue the Baddocks from him before he loses his temper. Please excuse us, Priscilla, Pansy." As she led Theodore away from the Parkinsons, she whispered, "Well done."

Theodore smiled; it made him look younger and more vulnerable than he normally appeared. "Thank you, Grandmother. Are you really all right? The Prof--I mean, Father was worried about you."

"I'm fine," Selima assured him. They joined Severus, who looked relieved to be rescued from more meaningless polite chitchat, and the Baddock children looked relieved to rescued from their irate Potions Master, although their father was a little reluctant to end the conversation, as he was trying to get Severus to see that Malcolm got some playing time in Slytherin's upcoming Quidditch match.

"Dad, please!" a nervous and embarrassed Malcolm protested.

"You'll have to talk to Draco about it," Severus said impatiently. "He's the team captain."

"Please excuse us," Selima said sweetly. "I need to borrow my son for a moment."

"What do you need, Mother?" Severus asked as they walked away.

"For you not to kill Mr. Baddock," Selima said dryly, and Severus actually laughed, a curt and harsh, but genuinely amused sound.

"I need a drink," he sighed, and signaled to one of the house-elves.

Part 36