FIC: Aftermaths, Part 42

[geri_chan]

Title: Aftermaths, Part 42
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: ~9,740
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: Lukas meets with the Ames family; Lupin's Career Fair takes place.

Part 41 (Previous chapters can be found under the aftermaths tag.)

***

"We should be going, too, if we plan to go shopping today," Lupin said. "We don't want to be late for supper."

"Why don't you take the boys and go on ahead, Lupin?" Snape told him. "I'll meet you at Quality Quidditch Supplies in a few minutes."

The boys looked puzzled, and Lupin gave him a startled look, then smiled. "Of course, Severus. We can get started looking at broomsticks while we're waiting. Good day, Lady Selima. Thank you for the tea." The boys added their thanks, still looking puzzled, then followed Lupin out through the fireplace.

"Did you have something you wanted to discuss with me in private, Severus?" Selima asked coolly.

Snape frowned at her. "You do realize that when word gets out that you're helping Bleddri, the Slytherin elite will regard you as a traitor."

Selima calmly took a sip of tea. "I didn't think that the opinions of the Slytherin elite mattered to you, Severus."

"They don't matter to me," Snape said sharply, "but up until a couple of weeks ago, they seemed to matter very much to you! You were so concerned about the Snape family's reputation--aren't you worried that you'll ruin your grandson's chances to rise in society?"

"We have our wealth," Selima replied, her face still cool and impassive, "and we have our standing. I'm not worried about that. Despite your scandalous relationship with the werewolf, you are a hero of the war, and you have a number of powerful friends: Dumbledore, the Minister of Magic, the Donners, Lady Blackmore, not to mention the Boy Who Lived..."

"Potter is not my friend!" Snape snapped. "But that's beside the point! I want to know what's so special about Bleddri, that you'd go so far out on a limb for him!"

His mother looked up and met his eyes, but she was as good as he was at disguising her emotions, and he could read nothing in her face. "Cyril's mother was my closest friend," she said quietly. "We were friends ever since we started Hogwarts together."

"How touching," Snape sneered. "Father would be appalled, Mother, to hear such an admission of sentimentality!"

"Yes, well, your father isn't around anymore, now is he?" Selima retorted. Some emotion that Snape could not read flickered in her black eyes. "Why don't you say what you really mean, Severus?"

"You castigated me for taking Lupin as my lover," Snape said, fighting to keep his voice even. "You told me in no uncertain terms that I was disgracing the family name by publicly associating with a beast. And yet--" His voice sharpened in spite of himself. "--you are spending the Snape wealth, risking the reputation of the family name, to make another beast head of the Diggory family!"

"I thought he was your friend, Severus," Selima said.

"He's more Lupin's friend, but that's not the point!"

"Then what is the point, Severus?"

"Why are you helping a werewolf who is a complete stranger to you, when you didn't lift a finger to help your own son sixteen years ago?!" Snape shouted, finally losing control enough to say what was really bothering him. He had been almost amused at first, by his mother's efforts to meddle with the Diggory family, but a niggling, barely perceptible feeling of discontent had been gradually festering into full-blown resentment. He could hear the jealousy in his voice, and immediately fell silent, breathing heavily as he tried to regain control of himself.

Something flickered in his mother's eyes again--guilt? It was hard to tell; Snape was chagrined to admit that his mother's control was better than his own. "It was not my decision to disown you, Severus," Selima said quietly. "It was your father's."

"You could have stopped him," Snape hissed.

Selima shook her head. "I tried, Severus, but you should know better than anyone how stubborn your father could be. I told him not to be so hasty, to at least wait until after the trial; I told him that we should bribe the necessary Ministry officials to prevent there from being a trial in the first place, but he refused to listen. He was so angry, Severus, not just because you were a Death Eater and had tarnished the family name, but because you had defied him."

Snape knew that she was right, but he was not in the mood to be reasonable at the moment. "So you just went along with it," he said bitterly.

"I had no choice, Severus. He was my Lord and husband."

"What if it had gone to trial?" Snape demanded. "Would you have let them send me to Azkaban? Even Ariane's family stood by her when she was arrested. They did so only grudgingly, to be sure, and they made her and Dylan's lives miserable afterwards, but at least they did not let her be sent to prison." Selima averted her gaze, which was answer enough for Snape; his father would have let the Ministry throw him in Azkaban, and his mother would have stood by obediently like a good little pureblood wife. Snape had known this all along, and he wasn't sure why it should hurt so much now, so many years after the fact. It wasn't as if he hadn't known that his parents were heartless bastards. And hadn't he told Lupin that he had been relieved when his father had disowned him, that he had welcomed the chance to escape his family?

"But you were not sent to Azkaban," Selima finally said, looking up to meet his gaze again. "And believe it or not, I did try to help you, Severus. After you were not convicted, I persuaded your father to accept you back into the family, although of course he was too proud to openly reverse his decision. But I got him to agree to reinstate you as heir if you would come home and ask his forgiveness. But you, of course, were too proud to do so." She gave Snape a defiant glare. "Your father is not the only stubborn one in the family."

Snape glared right back at her. "You still haven't answered my question, Mother. Why go so far to help Bleddri, who is not even your own flesh and blood?" He bit his lip and flushed a little at the slight hint of a whine that had crept into his voice without his intending it.

"Love and guilt, Severus," Selima said wearily. "I loved Anya--"

The shock Snape felt must have shown on his face, because Selima almost--though not quite--smiled. Then he wondered just what exactly she meant by the word "love"; as he had once told Lupin, sexual preference had little bearing on a pureblood marriage, but that was not something that he really wanted to contemplate, at least regarding his mother...

"Not THAT kind of love," Selima said dryly, apparently guessing the direction his thoughts were taking. "But Anya was a true friend who didn't care about pureblood politics, who wasn't just being nice to me because my family might be able to do her a favor in the future. And..." She hesitated, then lowered her voice and averted her gaze; their conversation seemed to be making her uncomfortable, and in fact, it was making him a little uncomfortable as well. They had never before discussed anything so personal, and Snape was surprised to find that she seemed to be answering him honestly despite her discomfort. "And knowing now what befell Anya and her son," Selima continued softly, "I feel guilty that I did not do more to help them. Cynric's death was a little suspicious, but I did not investigate further because your father did not want to make waves. He was involved in some delicate political maneuvering at the time, and offending a prominent family such as the Diggorys were then--though they are less so now--might have ruined his plans. And there was no evidence that Cynric's death was anything but an accident. Oh, people gossiped, as they always do, but no one really believed that a mild-mannered Hufflepuff family could have committed cold-blooded murder." Selima sighed. "But I should have tried harder to stay in touch with Anya. She had a nervous breakdown after Cynric died, and it did not seem strange that she should go into seclusion. I wrote to her, but she said she wished to be left alone. I let her be, thinking that she would heal with time, and I was busy with my own life--Severin's career and your education--and before I knew it, three years had passed, and Anya was dead." She looked up, and Snape could see that her black eyes were filled with guilt. "But perhaps things would have turned out differently if I had gone to the Gravenor estate and demanded to see her."

Snape was very familiar with that kind of guilt, of course. Despite his resentment, he felt a twinge of sympathy for his mother. "And perhaps not," he said. "The Gravenors probably would have turned you away, saying that she was too ill to see anyone. And perhaps they would have arranged an accident to befall Anya and Lukas soon afterwards."

"Perhaps," Selima said, "but that does not change the fact that I made no effort to help my dearest friend. That is why I am trying so hard to help Cyril now--not so much for his sake, but for hers."

Loyalty to a friend was an admirable motive, but it still hurt that his mother had gone to such lengths to help someone else's son and not her own. This was ridiculous; he was an adult, a jaded former Death Eater, no longer a child. He had told Lupin many times that he did not care what his parents thought of him, but Lupin had known all along that he was lying, even if he had not realized it himself up until now. Snape felt rather relieved that Lupin was not here to say, "I told you so"--in the gentlest, kindest way possible, of course. It was un-Gryffindorish to gloat.

Again, his mother seemed to guess at least some of what he was thinking; Snape wondered sourly if Lady Selima might be a Legilimens herself. She met his eyes unflinchingly; her gaze was steady and solemn. "I know that I was not a very good mother to you, Severus," she said in a quiet but even voice. "At least, I was not the kind of mother that Anya was to Cyril." She hesitated, looking a little uncertain of herself, but she did not look away. "I did not know how to be," she finally said.

"Because Anya loved her husband and son," Snape said, a little bitterly, leaving unspoken the words that Selima had not. But he could not help but wonder what kind of parent he would have been to Dylan and Theodore without Lupin's example to follow.

"I did not love your father," Selima said. "But I swore to honor and obey him, and I have never broken those vows. I did my best to be a good wife and mother; the two were, perhaps, not always compatible." Snape did not know how to reply to that, and remained silent. "But I did my best by you, Severus, even if you feel it was not enough. I educated you as befit a pureblood heir. I taught you what I thought you needed to know in order to survive and advance in society. I tried to keep the peace between you and your father, though obviously I failed miserably at that."

"Yes, Mother," Snape said, his voice still bitter, "you were always most attentive to your duty."

"Yes, Severus," Selima retorted, a spark of anger flaring in her eyes, "I was. I did my duty to my family and my husband regardless of whether or not it conflicted with my own desires, and not once did anyone ever ask me what I wanted!"

Snape was a little taken aback by her response. "Do you regret it, then, Mother?" he asked, in a less hostile voice, genuinely curious to know the answer. "If you could do it over again, would you marry instead one of those young and handsome suitors you once mentioned?"

Selima's anger died down as quickly as it had erupted, and she leaned back in her chair, sighing wearily. "I don't know, Severus. What point is there in wondering 'what if' when the past cannot be changed? Most of those handsome young men never amounted to much, anyway, and they are no longer so young and handsome." She gave him a smile that held a great deal of irony and not much humor. "And besides, if I had not married your father, you would not exist."

Snape laughed harshly. "Then should I be grateful to you, Mother?"

"Why start now?" Selima said, still with that ironic twist to her lips. "Regardless of what your idealistic Gryffindor werewolf might wish for, I do not expect any maudlin declarations of gratitude or forgiveness, save in a bad novel, of which I suspect Lupin has read too many." Snape laughed again, a little more sincerely. In a more serious voice, Selima said, "You may hate me if you wish, Severus. So long as the Snape line continues, I will not complain."

{Do I hate her?} Snape wondered, and the answer was both yes and no. He still resented her coldness to him as a child, and the way she had failed to protect him from his father, but on the other hand, he knew that Lupin was probably right when he said that Selima had only been behaving as her own family had taught her to. All the Bashirs, save for Ali, were a cold and unpleasant lot--not the type to spoil or indulge their children. A loving mother like Anya Diggory was probably more the exception than the rule in the Slytherin elite, at least among Selima's generation. And, as long as he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that Selima's marriage to Severin had probably not exactly been a picnic, either. He could feel a grudging admiration for Selima's loyalty to a husband she had not wanted to marry and had not loved. Still, Snape could not quite bring himself to forgive her.

Selima tilted her head to one side, giving him a thoughtful look. "You know, Severus, you are the Snape Lord now. You could forbid me to use the Snape funds to help Cyril. You could even cast me out of the manor if you wished." Her voice was not hostile, but cool, almost conversational, with just a hint of curiosity, as if she were trying to figure out why he hadn't already.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Mother, there's no need to be so melodramatic!" Snape snapped indignantly. As much as he hated his mother, the thought of using his new position as Lord against her had never crossed his mind. "Besides," he added gruffly, "do you honestly think that the werewolf would just let me throw you out on the street?"

The corners of Selima's mouth slowly curved upwards, as if against her will, into a genuine smile. "No, I don't," she agreed. "Professor Lupin suffers from the Gryffindor flaw of softheartedness."

"I don't understand, Mother," Snape said, feeling perplexed, amused, and irritated all at the same time, "why you and Lupin seem to be getting along so well these days. Have you developed a sudden inexplicable fondness for werewolves?"

"Hardly, Severus," Selima replied in a dry voice. "But you have, and so has my new grandson. I'm not a fool, Severus; I know that quarreling with Lupin will only turn Theodore against me, and I don't wish to lose another heir."

"And you aren't worried about antagonizing me?" Snape asked sardonically.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think, Severus?" Selima replied in the same tone of voice. Snape could not help but laugh, a sharp, hoarse sound that sounded almost like Bane's cawing. "If I can put up with Priscilla Parkinson's constant catty remarks, I can certainly put up with the werewolf."

Snape laughed again. "Lupin is certainly much less annoying than Priscilla."

Selima pursed her lips sourly for a moment, looking as if she agreed with him but didn't want to admit it. "I don't like it, but I am willing to cooperate with Professor Lupin in order to ensure the Snape succession. As for Cyril--well, it was a bit shocking to find out that my friend's son was a werewolf, but I still wish to help him for her sake. And besides, I confess that I wouldn't mind seeing Amos suffer the humiliation not only of having the secret he worked so hard to conceal be revealed, but of having his position usurped by a werewolf."

If Amos Diggory were less obnoxious, Snape might have felt sorry for him. Selima Snape was a dangerous enemy to make; Snape had always hated his mother's endless lessons in etiquette as a child, but he had to admit that she was a master of the art of social manipulation. In the world of the pureblood elite, a single malicious rumor whispered into the right ear could prove more damaging than an Unforgivable Curse, and shatter one's reputation and career, which was why the Slytherins always worked so hard to ingratiate themselves with the right people. "You have my authorization," Snape said, "if you feel you need it, to spend as much as you please on your campaign to regain Bleddri's inheritance. It will please Lupin, since Bleddri is his friend, and I wouldn't mind seeing Amos get what's coming to him." Snape smirked; it was a nice little twist of irony: after Lupin's lycanthropy had been revealed (which, admittedly was Snape's fault), Amos had been one of the parents who had sent letters to the Headmaster demanding that the werewolf be fired. So it was only appropriate that he was in danger of losing the family estate and title to another werewolf.

Selima smiled back at him and said, "Thank you, Severus." She hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do we have a truce, then?"

Snape hesitated himself, unsure of what he wanted. He was still not ready to forgive her, and more than three decades of hatred and resentment could not be erased in one afternoon. But the thought of continuing to carry on their long-standing feud was no longer appealing, either. And although bitter words had been exchanged, today was the first time Snape and his mother had ever had a real conversation as adults and equals, instead of Lady Snape merely lecturing or berating the recalcitrant Snape heir. It had been a novel experience, though awkward at times, and maybe...just maybe...he wouldn't mind repeating it in the future.

"What happened in the past cannot be undone, Mother," he finally said. "I'm not like the werewolf; I can't just forgive and forget."

"I understand, Severus," Selima said, sounding resigned and--was is it just his imagination?--possibly a little disappointed as well.

"I'm not finished," Snape said irritably; getting the words out wasn't easy, which was making him grumpy. "You are, as you pointed out, not the kind of mother Anya Diggory was, and quite frankly, I'm a little too old to want a mother fussing over me the way Narcissa does Draco, anyway. We can't change the past, but..." He took a deep breath. "Perhaps, for the future, we can start over with a clean slate." His mother looked stunned, and he added in a gruff voice, "As Lupin is constantly reminding me, we need to get along for Theodore's sake. I'm still not sure that it was a wise decision to bring him into this family, but what's done is done; he is the Snape heir. So...a truce, for my son's sake."

"For Theodore's sake," Selima echoed softly, still looking stunned.

"But this is a conditional truce," Snape warned, his voice turning steely. "Theodore has already endured one set of abusive and neglectful parents. I will not allow anyone to harm him again--not physically, magically, or even verbally. Not for the sake of pureblood pride and propriety, or even for the sake of his inheritance."

"Agreed," Selima said without hesitation, inclining her head slightly. It was unusual for his mother to give in to a demand so readily, but perhaps her merchant's instincts told her that there was no room for negotiation here. "On my word as a Snape."

That made Snape feel a little better. His mother might be a scheming, conniving social climber, in typical Slytherin fashion, but she also had a sense of honor--although a Gryffindor would probably find it confusing and convoluted--and always kept her word. Which was probably why she didn't give it very often. After an awkward silence, Snape cleared his throat and rose to his feet, saying, "Well, I'd better go meet Lupin and the boys before they wonder what happened to me."

"You can charge Dylan's broom to the Snape account," Selima said, then smiled wryly. "Well, I suppose you don't need my permission for that--Lord Snape."

"No, I don't," Snape said, but without any sting to his words. "But I'm sure that Dylan and Lupin will appreciate the thought."

"Oh, don't tell the werewolf that!" Selima protested, looking horrified. "It will only encourage his ridiculously idealistic and sappy notion that everyone has some good in them. Only a Gryffindor could be so trite."

"I'm not sure that it's really a Gryffindor notion," Snape mused, smiling a little. "Most Gryffindors believe in Good and Evil, with capital letters, usually casting the Slytherins in the latter role and themselves in the former. I think it might just be Lupin."

"An idealistic werewolf," Selima muttered, shaking her head. "What is the world coming to?" Then in a brisk voice, she said, "Well, you had best go on, Severus, before he comes looking for you."

Snape walked over to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, but paused before going through. "By the way..."

"Yes, Severus?"

Without turning around, his back still facing towards his mother, Snape said, "What you said about not being like Anya Diggory...maybe that's not an entirely bad thing. She was too caught up in her own grief to protect her son. Bleddri said that she died of pneumonia, but in essence it was suicide, wasn't it? She gave up and left her son to fend for himself."

"Don't judge her so harshly, Severus," Selima said, sounding both pleased and offended at the same time. "What would you do if something happened to Professor Lupin?"

Snape whirled around to face her, the very thought awakening a sense of panic and despair in him. His heart was pounding rapidly, and he had to take a few deep breaths to steady himself, reminding himself that Lupin was fine, and the question was merely hypothetical. "I would want to kill myself," he said harshly. "But I wouldn't, so long as Theodore and Dylan still needed me. They were both orphaned once; I wouldn't leave them alone again."

There was something that looked very much like respect in his mother's black eyes. "Yes," Selima said softly, "you would not have survived living as a spy among the Death Eaters for so many years if you were weak. Strength and stubbornness are Snape traits. Over the years people have called us cold-hearted, ruthless, even evil--but never weak."

Snape grudgingly admitted to himself that his mother shared those traits, too, even if she was only a Snape by marriage, not blood. For the first time, he realized that it must have taken strength to go into a marriage with a stranger twice her age without, as Lupin put it, having her spirit broken. Many other pureblood women in unhappy marriages frittered their time away with gossip and alcohol and clandestine affairs, but Selima had managed to win her new husband's respect, and in a very short time, make herself an influential person in pureblood society in her own right. When the Snape family's fortunes fell, it must have taken strength--and a good deal of stubbornness--not to give up, as even Severin had. She had endured the sneering faces and malicious whispers of her peers, and continued working to restore her family's place in society. Even after sixteen years, even after the news that her son had taken up with a werewolf, she still had not given up, and finally succeeded in dragging the reluctant heir back home. Being the reluctant heir, Snape was not entirely happy about this, but he still had to admire her perseverance. And if his mother had not forced him to come home, Theodore would not be his son now, and would probably still be secretly envying Dylan and feeling second-best. He supposed he should be grateful to his mother, if only for that.

"Yes," Snape agreed, "all the Snapes are strong--and stubborn," stressing the word "all" slightly. He turned back to the fireplace and raised his hand.

"Oh, and Severus?"

Snape sighed. "Yes, Mother?"

Selima hesitated, then said, "Never mind. Go on, Professor Lupin and the boys must be getting worried about you."

Snape snorted. "The boys, maybe. Lupin's probably overjoyed; he's no doubt envisioning some sort of heartwarming reconciliation scene."

"Then go, and disabuse him of that notion," Selima said, and Snape laughed. "Bring the boys back for tea again soon."

"Yes, Mother."

"And Christmas is coming up next month--you'll spend the holidays here, won't you?" Snape hesitated, and Selima added impatiently, "All four of you, of course."

"I'll have to talk it over with Lupin," Snape hedged. He supposed they would have to spend Christmas Day at Snape Manor, but he wasn't sure he wanted to spend the entire two weeks of vacation here. "Theodore will be busy studying for his N.E.W.T.s, and Dylan might want to spend some time with the Donners."

His mother wasn't going to let him off that easy. "Theodore can study here as well as anywhere else," Selima pointed out. "He can bring his books with him, and we have an excellent library." Snape began fidgeting nervously, and Selima said, "We can discuss it further the next time you come."

It was only a temporary reprieve, but Snape seized it nonetheless. Before his mother could change her mind, he threw the Floo Powder into the fireplace and said, "Diagon Alley, Quality Quidditch Supplies!"

***

Selima set aside her now-cold cup of tea, and motioned for Vorcher to clear away the dishes. She had intended to say that there were things she might do over differently, given the chance, but Severus was right; the past could not be undone, so there was no point in saying "I would do this-or-that differently" when it was impossible. Talk was cheap, as the saying went, especially when it could not be backed up by action, and there was no point in taking the chance of antagonizing her son and jeopardizing their fragile truce.

Severus was right when he said that Anya had failed to protect her son, although Selima could not bring herself to scorn her old friend for that, particularly when she herself had done the same thing, in a manner of speaking, without having the excuse of being devastated by a loved one's death. Had she been wrong to stand by when Severin had punished Severus with a Cruciatus Curse? She had not thought so at the time, but maybe she had been wrong. She had told herself that she could not disobey her husband, but perhaps if she had tried, she could have persuaded him, without making it seem like she was defying his will, that a less severe form of punishment would be more effective. It had not seemed so bad at the time; her own parents had punished serious offenses with hexes, although they had never gone so far as to use an Unforgivable Curse.

But now, the thought of someone using such a curse on Theodore filled her with a strange sense of anger, and she knew that even without the promise she had made to Severus, she would never let anyone--not even Severin, if he were still alive--hurt her grandson that way. She did not know exactly when she had stopped regarding Theodore as "the substitute heir" and started thinking of him as her real grandson. Perhaps it had started on the day he had shown interest in the Snape histories and finances, as Severus never had. It had strengthened during Severin's funeral, when Theodore had kept his composure throughout the very long and trying day, being properly polite to the guests while skillfully deflecting any insults. She remembered the way he had smiled at her almost shyly when she complimented him on it. She could not change the past, but she wanted to protect Theodore now, as she had failed to protect her son. She even, to a lesser extent, wanted to protect Dylan, recalling the sudden surge of fear she had felt when she saw him fall off his broomstick at the Quidditch match.

These unfamiliar emotions scared her a little; it had been such a long time since she had let herself truly feel anything. It was all the werewolf's fault...no, that was not really fair. It was not just Lupin, but a combination of things, including Severin's death and Cyril's return, which had awakened old memories she had long ago buried in the past.

She pressed a hand to her forehead, and Vorcher asked in a concerned voice, "Is the Mistress all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Selima said, rising to her feet. "It's nothing...merely a headache. I think I will go lie down for a little while."

"Yes, Mistress," Vorcher said, still looking worried.

"Oh, and Vorcher..."

"Yes, Mistress?"

"When you're done clearing up, go up to the attic and go through the Christmas decorations."

"Mistress?" a puzzled Vorcher said.

"We haven't used them for many years. See what is still in good condition and what needs to be replaced. And you should work on preparing a menu and making up a list of the groceries that will need to be ordered to feed three, possibly four guests for two weeks over the Christmas holidays. It's not really all that far away."

"Yes, Mistress," Vorcher replied, looking excited for a moment, and then a little doubtful. "Er...did Master Severus agree to come for Christmas?"

Selima smiled confidently. "No, but he will."

"Er...yes, Mistress."

Selima went upstairs, looking more cheerful, and Vorcher shrugged and returned to work. It was not his place to worry about how the Mistress was going to force Master Severus to return home for Christmas. If she said it was so, then it was. Vorcher missed the days when the house was full of life, with many parties, and people coming and going. The house had been quiet and gloomy for many years, with only the Master and Mistress in it, and they had not bothered to put up a tree or decorations for Christmas since the Master had retired from the Ministry. Maybe now that Master Severus had returned to the family, there would be parties at Snape Manor once again, with all the important people in the wizarding world coming, as they had for the Master's funeral.

Vorcher hurriedly washed the dishes, then ran upstairs to the attic, making a list in his mind: a tree, which would have to bought fresh next month; ornaments--the Snapes had a collection of very old and expensive hand-blown glass ornaments; tinsel; candles...likely they would need to buy new tinsel and candles. And for Christmas dinner: a turkey, or perhaps roast beef? Definitely a plum pudding... Vorcher began humming Christmas carols under his breath as he bounded up the stairs.

***

Lukas met with the Ames family for tea one afternoon the following week, after classes were over. Gwendolyn looked delighted to see him, although her husband looked worried. "I had a very long talk with Selima Snape last weekend," Lukas said. "It seems that she is willing to support my claim to the Diggory estate--or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that she is adamant about it. She has offered to hire Morrigan De Lacy to represent me in court."

"Then it seems you have made up your mind," Robert Ames said, frowning. "You intend to challenge Amos for the title."

Lukas shook his head. "I have made up my mind not to hide my identity or deny my heritage any longer. That is not necessarily the same thing. I promised Tristan that I would discuss the matter with you and Gwendolyn first before making my decision, and I am keeping my promise."

"Then you want our permission?" Robert asked, a little belligerently.

His wife glared at him. "You know how I feel about this, Cyr--I mean, Lukas," Gwendolyn said. "You are the rightful heir; if you want our blessing, you have it."

"I have your blessing," Lukas said with a wry smile, "but not your husband's." As Gwendolyn opened her mouth to protest, he added, "I can't really blame him; he doesn't wish to see his son's inheritance taken away from him, but perhaps I can set his mind at ease about that." He told them about the compromise Morrigan had suggested, that he make Tristan his heir.

Robert sat there, eyes wide, too stunned to react, and Tristan smiled at him shyly. "That's very generous of you, Lukas," Gwendolyn said.

"No, it's not," Lukas said. "It's practical. My lycanthropy is inherited, and I have no wish to inflict my curse on a child. Since I will never have children, it therefore follows that I need an heir, and Tristan is next in line to inherit."

Robert looked less hostile, but still concerned. "But what about Amos and Helen?" he asked. "What will happen to them if you become Lord? Will you turn them out of their home?"

"Why should I care what happens to Amos?" Lukas asked bitterly.

"You may not care about him," Robert replied, "and perhaps deservedly so, since he has wronged you. But he has been good to me and Gwen and Tristan all these years. Whatever he has done, he is still family to us."

"That is true," Gwendolyn said softly. "He is still my brother, and I cannot help but love him no matter how angry I am at him. And his wife is a good person, Lukas. They were not yet married when Cynric died, and she knew nothing about how Amos had helped to fake your death. You have every right to be angry with Amos, but for Helen's sake, couldn't we work out something out?"

"Are they living in the mansion?" Lukas asked.

"No," Gwendolyn said. "Amos closed it up after Mother and Father died; he said the upkeep was too expensive. They've been living in a modest home in Ottery St. Catchpole, near the Weasleys."

"And my father's house in London?"

Gwendolyn winced. "Father tore down the house and sold the land after Cynric died. I was very upset, but he said it held too many painful memories for him. I think there's an antique shop there now."

"More likely he wanted to get rid of any evidence of my lycanthropy," Lukas said bitterly. "Such as claw marks on the walls of the room where I was confined during the full moon. They tried to erase every trace of my existence." He saw Gwendolyn's face, tearful and guilty, although she herself had done nothing wrong, and he sighed a little. "Very well," he said, his anger diffusing, "if Amos will cede me the title and the main estate, he can keep the home in Ottery St. Catchpole."

"Then you're going to do it!" Gwendolyn said, her expression brightening. "You're going to fight for the title!"

"You seem awfully happy for someone about to get caught in the middle of a family feud," Lukas said dryly. "What happened to your concern about your dear brother?"

"I love Amos," Gwendolyn said quietly, "but I loved you and Cynric and Anya as well. You have no idea how overjoyed, how grateful I am to know that you are still alive, when I had thought you were dead for over twenty years. Amos will be upset, yes, but he is in the wrong, and he knows it. I think secretly he is ashamed, or he wouldn't have hid the truth from me all these years. Cynric was the eldest son and heir, and the title rightfully belongs to you. I will support your claim, no matter how angry Amos gets."

"Even if it goes to court?" Lukas asked.

"Even so," Gwendolyn said. "But hopefully it won't come to that. I'll talk to Amos, try to reason with him. It's a fair and generous offer you've made, to name Tristan your heir and cede him the house."

"I doubt Amos will see it that way," Robert muttered under his breath, and Lukas knew he was probably right.

"Are the two of you all right with this?" Lukas asked Robert and Tristan.

Robert shrugged. "Well, Gwen is determined to support you no matter what I think," he said in a resigned tone, sounding an awful lot like Snape when Lupin was badgering him into doing something he didn't want to do, and Lukas had to repress a smile. "And I suppose she's right. I'm no lawyer, but it seems to me that the title should legally be yours."

"I guess I'm okay with it," Tristan said. "Though I don't like to see you and Uncle Amos fighting with each other."

Lukas heaved a sigh. He hated his uncle, and still wasn't completely convinced that Amos was innocent of involvement in Cynric's death. But Gwendolyn and Tristan cared for Amos, and Lukas didn't want to cause them any more pain than he already had. He wrestled with his anger and guilt, then finally made a very difficult decision: to leave the past in the past, and not to probe further into his father's death. "I will call a truce with Amos, if he will call a truce with me."

Gwendolyn's grateful smile, and the tears shining in her eyes, made that decision a little less painful. "Thank you, Cyril," she whispered, reaching out to lay her hand against his cheek.

She had slipped and used his real name, but this once, Lukas found that he didn't mind. He laid his hand over hers for a moment, then said, "Don't thank me yet. Amos hasn't agreed to the truce."

Gwendolyn laughed and wiped the tears from her eyes. "He will. I'll force him to, somehow."

"Then I'll speak to Ms. De Lacy, and have her draw up the legal documents."

Gwendolyn nodded. "Fine, but let me talk to Amos first. He'll take it better coming from me than from your lawyer."

"All right," Lukas said. "Amos probably won't believe me, but I don't really care about the title or the money. I just want..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "I want my father's name back. I want the inheritance he fought for, not so much because I want it for myself, but because he wanted it for me."

"I understand," Gwendolyn said quietly, reaching out to clasp his hand. "I understand, Cyril, even if Amos doesn't. I'm sorry, I mean, Lukas."

"It's all right, Gwen." Lukas hesitated again; hadn't he said that he was going to stop denying his name and heritage? "You can call me 'Cyril' if you wish."

"Really?" she asked, her face lighting up.

"Really," Lukas said, then suddenly laughed. "Why not? Lady Selima refuses to call me anything else!" Gwendolyn jumped up and flung her arms around him, and still laughing, he protested, "Gwennie!" His inner wolf growled contentedly; it had decided that she was pack. Lukas the man was having a little more trouble coming to terms with it, but he followed the wolf's instincts, and very gingerly returned the embrace.

***

The Career Fair was a big success. Classes were canceled for the day of the fair, which delighted the students, and prospective employers gathered in the Great Hall to hand out brochures and talk to interested students. The Gringotts representatives, Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour, garnered a large and--not surprisingly--mostly male audience who hung on Fleur's every word. The boys also enjoyed hearing about Bill's adventures as a curse-breaker in Egypt, though, and a few girls eyed Bill appreciatively, much to Fleur's displeasure. Her expression softened slightly when she looked at Gabrielle, who was delighted to see her again. Gabby spent most of the day sitting with Fleur and gazing at her older sister adoringly.

Sirius showed up on behalf of the Ministry, although not a great many students seemed interested in joining the Werewolf Support Services department. Much to his surprise, his three most enthusiastic potential recruits were all Slytherins: Crabbe, Goyle, and Brad Doherty. Sirius had known Crabbe and Goyle senior in school, and remembered them as being stupid and obnoxious, but their sons clearly idolized Lupin, as did the Doherty boy. Sirius couldn't help but smile in amusement at the irony of it all. Moony certainly had a way of charming Slytherins--not just Snape, but his students as well! A couple of Gryffindors, Dennis Creevey and Martin Parry, also expressed interest in working for Werewolf Support when they graduated.

A dreamy-eyed girl in a Ravenclaw uniform came up to the table and said, sounding disappointed, "Oh, so you're not Stubby Boardman, after all."

"Huh?" a puzzled Sirius said.

"Oh, it's just one of Loony Lovegood's crazy ideas," Crabbe said, but in a friendly manner. "When you were a fugitive, her dad's paper said that Sirius Black was really the lead singer of the Hobgoblins in disguise."

"It was a valid theory," Luna said gravely.

"Er...never heard of the Hobgoblins," Sirius said, still puzzled. "Then again, it was hard to keep up with popular music in Azkaban. Would you like a brochure, Miss Lovegood?"

"Certainly," she said with a smile, accepting the proffered brochure. "I haven't decided on a career choice yet, but working with werewolves sounds like fun. Then again, I might go to work with my dad on the Quibbler, or I would like to work with Thestrals. They're not used widely outside of Hogwarts, but I think they make an excellent form of transportation. Maybe I could start my own Thestral carriage service."

"Um...right," Sirius said. The girl didn't seem to be altogether there; her eyes had a very dreamy and faraway look, as if she was looking at something that no one else could see. Sirius suddenly noticed that her eyes were an odd silvery-grade shade not unlike Math's and Dylan's, and he wondered if there might be some Donner blood in her family tree. A touch of the Sight might explain her oddness, and that air of looking into another world.

"What a great idea!" Crabbe said to Luna. "But where would we get the Thestrals from?"

"'We'?" Goyle asked.

"We could tame some wild ones," Luna said earnestly, ignoring Goyle, "or perhaps Hogwarts would sell us some, since the herd is continuing to breed and grow larger."

"What about Werewolf Support?" Goyle asked.

"Oh yeah," Crabbe said, looking torn.

Sirius chuckled. "There are many ways people can contribute to Werewolf Support, both directly and indirectly. Your hypothetical Thestral carriage business could become a sponsor of the Wolfsbane Potion Distribution Program, for example, or you might consider hiring werewolves if your business grows large enough to need additional employees." Goyle, Crabbe, and Luna beamed at each other.

"Well, I want to work in the Werewolf Support office," Brad declared firmly. "What qualifications do I need?"

"Mostly an abundance of patience," Sirius sighed, "to keep from hexing the bigots you'll run into, not to mention the werewolves themselves, who are mostly stubborn and proud, and don't like accepting what they see as charity. And there's a lot of red tape and paperwork involved."

Brad grinned. "Living in Slytherin House all these years has taught me a lot about patience. When you're not one of the cream of the pureblood elite, you have to learn how not to offend those who are, like the Malfoys. And my dad's an accountant, so paperwork's not a big deal to me."

"I'd like to hire an assistant or two," Sirius said, "but the job won't pay much."

"We don't care!" the students chorused, and Sirius smiled. He expected such things from the Gryffindors, but it was unheard of for a Slytherin to want a job that had low pay and little status. He could certainly use a secretary to help him deal with all the paperwork, not to mention someone to help him balance his budget and submit all the receipts that those nitpicking idiots at the Ministry required; it was a pity that Doherty was only a sixth-year.

"Perhaps you might consider applying for a part-time summer job," Sirius suggested, "even though you can't work for me full-time until you graduate."

"What about us?" Dennis asked eagerly, and Martin, Crabbe, and Goyle echoed him.

"Well, I'm not sure how many assistants I can afford to hire," Sirius said. "I'll have to talk it over with Arthur."

"The pay's not important, sir," Dennis assured him. "And it would be good work experience."

"It will look good on our resumes," Brad said, with Slytherin practicality, "to be able to say that we worked at the Ministry, even if it's only as a volunteer or an intern."

"Well then, I'm sure I could pay at least a token salary," Sirius said, "and perhaps arrange some sort of work-study program with the Headmaster, so that at least you'll get extra credit for your work. I'll send some applications to your Heads of House."

Meanwhile, also representing the Ministry were Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt, on behalf of the Aurors. They attracted a larger crowd than Sirius, but many of the students were dismayed when they learned about the stringent requirements of the job.

"A minimum of five N.E.W.T.s!" groaned Kevin Whitby, the Hufflepuff Chaser.

"And you have to take Potions through seventh year!" Kenneth Sloper said in horror.

Tonks grinned and winked at him. "Oh, Professor Snape's not so bad," she said cheerfully. "You might say that his bark is worse than his bite." The students did not look convinced, and she added, "I was his student several years ago, and I managed to survive! Well, with a few scars..."

"Tonks!" Kingsley said. "We're supposed to be recruiting candidates, not driving them away!"

Tonks laughed. "Just kidding!"

"I will become an Auror," Stewart Ackerley said determinedly, "no matter how hard it is. Even if it means seven years of Potions class."

"Ah, Stewart," Kingsley said, a little awkwardly. "Planning to carry on in your father's footsteps? I'm sure he'd be very proud of you."

"Thank you, sir," Stewart said, a little stiffly.

"What about you, Harry?" Tonks asked. "Still thinking of joining our ranks? We'd certainly love to have you. And you too, Ron."

Harry smiled at her. "I'm still thinking it over. I'm not really sure what I want to do when I graduate, and besides, I'll have to see if I can pass those N.E.W.T.s first."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, Harry," Kingsley said in a hearty voice. "You're a real natural at Defense magic, and it would be a shame to waste your talent."

"But no one could blame Harry if he'd had his fill of combat," a gentle voice said, and the crowd turned to see Lupin approaching. Lupin smiled and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Although I'm sure you'll do fine on your N.E.W.T.s."

"Well, keep us in mind, Harry," Kingsley said.

Stewart frowned, looking a little resentful, though no one seemed to notice but Lupin. "So you want to be an Auror?" Lupin said with a friendly smile. "No wonder you work so hard during my class." It was true; although the Ravenclaw boy was a bit standoffish, and one of the few students who didn't seem to like Lupin, he did work very hard at his assignments. "It's a bit early to worry about your N.E.W.T.s, but you have your O.W.L.s coming up next year. I'll be happy to help you prepare for them when the time comes. I have some sample test sheets you can look at if you're interested."

"Thank you, Professor," Stewart said coolly, "but I think I can manage on my own."

Some of the other students frowned, but Lupin just said cheerily, in the same tone that always drove Snape up the wall, "It's nice to see a student who's so confident of his abilities!" He patted Stewart on the shoulder, then walked away, leaving the boy staring after him suspiciously, not sure whether Lupin was making fun of him or not.

Lupin joined Takeshi at the St. Mungo's table, where the young mediwizard was talking to Aric, who scowled at the werewolf. "You told him I wanted to become a mediwizard, didn't you?" he asked Takeshi accusingly.

"I didn't know it was a secret," Takeshi said mildly. "If you had asked me to keep it confidential, I would of course have respected your wishes." He pushed his gold wire-rimmed glasses, which were perpetually sliding down his nose, back up. "Although it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of. Quite the contrary, in fact."

Lupin grinned. "The Slytherins like to maintain their cynical reputation, and the Healing profession is a little too altruistic for their taste. Severus was mortified when the Daily Prophet made him out to be a hero after the war!"

"It's just kind of personal, that's all," Aric said grumpily.

"I'm sorry, Aric," Takeshi said in a more serious voice. "I didn't realize that you hadn't told Remus and Lukas about your plans, otherwise I never would have mentioned it to them."

"It's not your fault," Aric said, looking a little guilty. "Like you said, I never told you it was a secret. I guess it's not a big deal; I'm going to graduate soon, and then everyone will know what my plans are, anyway. It's just...I kind of wanted to think things through and decide if that's really what I want to do before I talked about it with anyone else."

Takeshi smiled. "Well, if you have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them now--or later in private, if you wish." Before Aric could reply, they were joined by a number of other students, including Lavender, Neville, Serafina, Blaise, and Theodore. Lupin introduced his students to Takeshi, although he recognized most of them already, since Takeshi used to be a student at Hogwarts himself.

"It's a little strange being back at Hogwarts," Takeshi confessed. "I half expect Professor Snape to give me detention!"

The students laughed. "I don't remember you ever getting detention," Theodore said.

"No, I was a typical Ravenclaw, quiet and studious," Takeshi agreed. "And much too scared of Professor Snape to risk crossing him!" The students laughed again.

"No, I'm afraid that usually the Gryffindors are the only ones that brave and foolish," Lupin said with a rueful smile.

"Hey!" Lavender protested indignantly.

"Although I was slightly less scared of the Professor than most of my classmates," Takeshi continued, "since I saw him at my parents' restaurant frequently, and they seemed to think very highly of him. And he was, well...not nice, exactly, but polite to me there, when we weren't in public. I didn't know it then, of course, but Professor Snape was using the Portkey at the Sakura to travel to Japan to work with Professor Kamiyama on the Wolfsbane Potion."

"For Professor Lupin's sake," Lavender sighed. "That's so romantic!"

"Don't let the Professor hear you say that," Theodore said dryly, but fortunately for Lavender, Snape was across the room talking to Mr. Jigger.

"So are you interested in a medical career, Theodore?" Takeshi asked pleasantly.

"Uh, no, not really," Theodore replied, then motioned to Blaise. "But my friend is."

"Well, actually my mother is the one who's really interested," Blaise said with a little sigh. "She's been wanting me to become a mediwizard ever since Professor Chizuru told her that I had a Healing Gift--a very minor one, mind you."

Takeshi smiled at him sympathetically. "Ah yes, parental expectations. I think my father was a little disappointed that I didn't want to take over the restaurant, although he supported my decision to become a mediwizard. I enjoy cooking for myself and my friends, but I wouldn't care to do it for a living." Lupin leaned over and whispered something into his ear. "Remus says you're more the scholarly type; there are related fields of work you could go into that don't involve actual Healing. You might, for example, brew and develop medicinal potions, or do research on medical spells."

"M-maybe I could do something like that," Neville stammered. "I'm not much good with people, but I'm good with plants. I kind of want to be an Herbologist, and I could specialize in medicinal herbs. And brew healing potions--if I can get through Snape's class and pass my Potions N.E.W.T."

"We always need a good supply of healing herbs and potions at St. Mungo's," Takeshi said. "And what about you, Serafina? Do you wish to become a Healer? I wouldn't want to pressure you, of course, but to have such a full and strong Healing Gift is very rare; it would be a shame to waste it..."

Serafina looked startled. "How did you know about that?"

"Professor Chizuru is a friend of my parents," Takeshi replied. "She visited the Sakura often while she was here, and she mentioned a very talented and promising young student she had."

Serafina smiled shyly at him--a very rare sight for the normally emotionless Slytherin girl. "I enjoyed Professor Chizuru's classes very much, and yes, I would like to become a Healer."

Takeshi handed her a brochure. "Well then, you'll need to take N.E.W.T.s in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts." He gave her a conspiratorial grin. "I'm sure all the departments at St. Mungo's will be competing to recruit you, but I hope you'll give mine special consideration--I work in Creature-Induced Injuries, in the 'Dangerous' Dai Lleywellyn Ward. We specialize in Serious Bites."

"Takeshi is one of the few Healers and mediwizards who isn't afraid to work with werewolves," Lupin said. "He also volunteers at the clinic in Diagon Alley."

"Then I think I would like to work in that department," Serafina said solemnly.

"Then I think I can guarantee you a job," Takeshi said with a grin, "so long as you do well on your N.E.W.T.s."

"It won't be a problem," Lupin said firmly. "Serafina is one of my brightest students."

Takeshi turned to Lavender. "And I remember seeing you and your friend at St. Mungo's this summer. You were working as volunteers?"

"Yes, sir," she said firmly. "I want to become a mediwizard."

"Oh, please don't call me 'sir'!" Takeshi laughed. "It makes me feel old!"

Lavender giggled, and Lupin slapped him on the arm good-naturedly. "Hey, you don't get to say you're old until you have some gray in your hair, like me!"

"Excuse me, sir...um, I mean, Takeshi," Neville said hesitantly. "What's the difference between a Healer and a mediwizard?"

"Well, a Healer usually handles the more serious illnesses and injuries that require the kind of spells that only someone with a full Healing Gift can cast. A mediwizard like me assists the Healers, handles less serious cases, and travels outside of the hospital to deal with emergencies. Usually we stabilize the patient, and if necessary, transport them to St. Mungo's for further healing."

"Like a paramedic in the Muggle world?" Emma Creevey asked.

"Yes, that's a very good analogy," Takeshi said. "Also, most mediwizards--again, like me--have a minor Healing Gift, but not a full one."

"Does that mean I can't become a mediwizard if I don't have a Healing Gift?" Aric asked, looking worried.

"Not all mediwizards actually have the Gift," Takeshi assured him, "although it's certainly helpful if you do."

"Since when do you want to become a mediwizard?" Theodore asked.

"None of your business!" Aric snapped, but subsided when Takeshi gave him a disapproving frown.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did turn out to have the Gift," Takeshi said pleasantly, "since your uncle also had one." Both boys turned a little pale and looked uncomfortable. Takeshi pretended not to notice, and told Aric, "You could ask Madam Pomfrey to test you for it, or I could have one of the Healers at St. Mungo's do it, if you prefer. I'm afraid that my own Gift isn't strong enough to allow me test you myself."

"You knew my uncle?" Theodore asked.

"No, but many of my coworkers at St. Mungo's did. He was very well-liked and respected. He used to work for my supervisor, Hippocrates Smethwyck, who was training him to be a full Healer."

Theodore blinked back tears, and abruptly rose to his feet. "Come on, Blaise. Didn't you want to talk to those people from the Museum of Wizarding History? Fath--I mean, the Professor said he'd recommend you for a position there if you wanted."

He and Blaise hurried off, and Aric stood as well. "I wanted to go talk to the Quidditch recruiters. But I'll come see you later, Takeshi."

"Oh dear," Takeshi said, looking distressed. "I didn't mean to upset them."

"It's a sensitive topic with them," Lupin said gently, "but it's not your fault. Why don't you continue talking with the others, and I'll check up on them."

Part 43

Afterword: With 40-plus chapters, it's getting a bit unwieldy to list all the previous chapters in the header, so from now on I'll just link to the last previous chapter and include a link to the aftermaths tag so that people can easily find earlier chapters if they need to.