Fanfiction

If We Could Only See-- 16a

Title: If We Could Only See--Chapter 16a

Author: Rockygirl

Rating: PG

Summary: Sirius and Snape to the rescue! But not together. Draco begins to realize the depths of his own feelings while trying to deal with everything that's happened so far. It's enough to make a young and very rich boy nutters! meanwhile the Trio and Snape find a clue, and the Trio discover that their hatred of Snape will always sink to new lows, unfortunately. Pansy Parkinson gets a blurb, and Blaise really hates her.

Author's Note: This is the first half of chapter 16. I was going to wait to finish all of it, but it's getting pretty long so I figured I'd post it in small increments. The next half should be done soon. Also, as it's late, I will respace the paragraphs later tonight. My eyes are burning pretty bad right now!

Pansy Parkinson walked across Slytherin Commons in as dignified a manner as possible. Her usual crowd, Millicent Bulstrode, Blaise Zabini, and Tracy Davis, followed a little behind her. The Common Room was deserted, but Pansy was restless. She decided a walk might clear her head. Those stupid Slytherin Prefects wouldn't dare take points from her, as they were too close in the running for the House Cup to risk it.
The corridor was quiet, and Pansy spent a few moments walking aimlessly and allowing the relative peace to soak into her. Or trying to, anyway. But the truth was that Pansy's agitation and discomfort were rooted inside of her, where she couldn't reach.
You got what you wanted.
Pansy blinked and shook her head slightly. She hadn't wanted that.
Her mind flashed back to that evening, right before supper. As Pansy had descended the stairs to the commons, a boy had run in, fresh from Hogsmeade.
"Did you hear? Malfoy and Anderson have disappeared! That Gryffindor bird has too, she was with them!"
Pansy had been surprised, but not worried. There was probably a mistake. Hearing that he was with a Gryffindor was definitely a mistake. She'd grabbed the boy, a second year by the name of Miles McKinnely, and demanded everything he knew. But he hadn't known much. Professor McGonagall had stayed behind in Hogsmeade with three Gryffindors, one of them being Harry Potter, to look for the three missing students.
Pansy frowned. If Potter was among those who stayed, then the other two students could only be Granger and Weasley. Why would they have stayed? What interest would they have in Draco or Anderson?
"Er…Pansy?" Tracy interrupted her train of thought, causing Pansy to whirl on her furiously.
"What is it? I'm trying to think!"
Tracy and Millicent reared back from her wrath, but Blaise stood firm, a line forming between her brows, her lips pursing.
"You've been thinking all night, Pansy," Blaise said, her voice a touch icy, "Would you like to share your insights? Or should we follow you around the whole of Hogwarts?"
Pansy glared. Blaise had never really shown her the proper respect, and Pansy had had to threaten her with social ostracism many times over their seven year tenure at Hogwarts in order to push her back in line. The way Pansy was feeling right now, however, Blaise might find herself more than ostracized before the night was over.
"Would you rather hang around with Flanders' group? I'm sure they'd welcome you into their midst. It would be a step up for them to associate with you!" Pansy growled through clenched teeth.
It was Blaise's turn to glare, but she said nothing. Satisfied, Pansy turned and resumed her trek to…she looked around. Her feet were taking her to the stairs that led to the Great Hall. She might find trouble there, as the other Prefects would hardly show her leniency. Worse if a professor caught them all. Snape would be unable to prevent it.
He would be unable to prevent it because he, too, was gone. No one had seen him all day, and Pansy was almost certain he was no where in the castle. He might be with Draco.
You can drop dead for all I care.
Pansy halted at the foot of the stone steps, weighing the consequences of being caught against the consequences of possibly obtaining fresh information. She heard the girls shifting uneasily behind her, but dismissed it as unimportant. If she told them to walk all the way to Hogsmeade they'd do it, stupid sheep that they were. Well, Blaise might refuse at first, but a few well chosen comments and she'd willingly jog the distance, possibly cursing Pansy under her breath the whole way, but what did that matter? Obedience was what mattered, and one did whatever it took to attain it.
Pansy smirked slightly, pleased with those thoughts. But a moment later her mood darkened again as she thought of Draco. He was missing, possibly in grave danger. He'd been attacked a scandalous number of times, which made no sense as Pansy could think of no one who would be stupid enough to actually risk the wrath of Lucius Malfoy. Now he'd gone to Hogsmeade, where he wasn't supposed to have gone, and had disappeared. He could be hurt, or perhaps held hostage. He was worth a fortune in Galleons, and Pansy knew that such things sometimes befell the children of wealthy families.
Sometimes, even if a ransom was paid, the ends could still be tragic.
You've never used your brain for anything useful.
Pansy pulled her robes about her and began marching up the stairs. She was halfway up before she heard the steps of her friends following. Under normal circumstances, Pansy would make them pay for that. Then again, under normal circumstances, that wouldn't have happened. They would have been a step behind her at all times, or they would get slapped, berated, and/or ostracized. Ostracism from Slytherin society at Hogwarts might seem shallow, but it was their social life until they left for the summer, or for good. Sometimes Pansy did it just to give them a taste of what it would be like to be ignored. But not merely ignored; there was also active harassment, revilement, and other abuse provided by their housemates. Abuse and harassment dished out as only Slytherins could. Their special brand of torture was reserved for those who failed to show solidarity, or dared to defy the House standard. What could a Gryffindor do that compared to that? Disloyalty of any kind, however inadvertent, was always punished with the utmost severity. Pansy found it quite a useful tool in keeping her friends loyal.
Pansy reached the Great Hall and walked towards the doors leading to the front entrance. She heard voices speaking softly there, and slowed down a tad to hear what was being said.
"…get on it right away, Headmaster," a voice said. It was Terry Boot, Head Boy of Hogwarts. Pansy frowned slightly, slowing her steps more and darting to the corner so she could peek around. Dumbledore stood there gravely surrounded by several of the House Prefects, including Laura Pritchard, one of the Slytherin Prefects.
"Shouldn't the Head Girl be here as well?" Ernie McMillan, one of Hufflepuff's Prefects, asked.
"Miss Granger is indisposed at this time," Dumbledore replied, making Pansy sneer, "Now I want you all to remain alert. This is a delicate time, and though I have confidence in our security wards it is important that we make certain Hogwarts isn't compromised in any way. Constant Vigilance!"
The Prefects nodded and dispersed, and Pansy saw Professor McGonagall suddenly appear beside the Headmaster and whisper something to him.
"I see," the Headmaster said softly, and they quickly walked away. Pansy clenched her fists, longing to follow but not quite daring to. She had no fear of Dumbledore's wrath, as the doddering old fool was known for his leniency. But Pansy was still rather in awe of him, and McGonagall certainly wouldn't hesitate to deduct points from Slytherin.
A hand on her shoulder nearly made her jump, and Pansy whirled around to see Blaise frowning at her.
"What are we doing here?" the dark haired Slytherin whispered, "Who do you intend to ask for information?"
Pansy had no idea where to turn to now, but being reminded of that made her temper flare.
"If you're so eager for your bed then go back to the Commons!" she hissed.
Blaise's frown deepened, "I was just asking-"
"And I'm in no mood for stupidity," Pansy snapped, "just go back to the damn dungeon!"
Blaise hesitated as Tracy and Millicent stared at her uncertainly. Suddenly, Pansy really wanted them gone.
"Go!" she jerked around and faced them fully, snarling as her face turned three shades of crimson. Tracy and Millicent bolted, but Blaise backed away slowly, frowning at Pansy the entire time. Pansy returned her stare for only a moment before dismissing her by turning and heading for the stairs to the first floor.
The corridors were, of course, deserted. It was late; after three in the morning. And although some students might be awake none of them would be foolish enough to be out wandering the grounds.
Except maybe Potter's gang. They liked pushing the boundaries, and usually got away with it. No one else got the same degree of leniency as Potter and his cronies. Pansy vividly remembered when Draco had been caught skulking around the Astronomy Tower, waiting to catch Potter at his rule breaking. Instead he'd landed detention for himself. She conveniently forgot that Harry and his friends had also been caught that night, and had lost one hundred fifty points for Gryffindor.
Pansy stared down the deep shadows of the corridor once she reached the first floor. She had to speak with the Headmaster, and damn the House points. Draco was in trouble, and she had to know what was going on. Choosing a direction at random, Pansy walked determinedly into the shadows, taking care to walk slowly so her footsteps wouldn't echo.
"…wasn't your fault," a deep voice hissed, "Don't blame yourself for what happened! We don't have much in the way of details, but I'm willing to bet we wouldn't have made much difference."
"Seamus, if I hadn't left with you, she never would have gone to Hogsmeade with that Slytherin!" a female voice sobbed. Pansy peeked carefully around the corner and saw a slender young blonde standing near a tall, well built Gryffindor. Seamus Finnigan, unless she was very much mistaken. Which meant the girl was Susan Dresch, his Ravenclaw girlfriend.
"I'm sorry about that, Susan," Finnigan replied, sounding hurt, "I just wanted to spend a little time with you."
"I'm not blaming you, Seamus," Dresch wept, "it's my fault, I-"
"It's getting you no where," Finnigan interrupted, "She went, something happened, please stop acting as if you're responsible!"
Pansy stared at them, eyes narrowing as she considered the implications of their words. If Dresch hadn't gone with Finnigan somewhere, then someone else wouldn't have gone to Hogsmeade…Weasley! Draco had taken Ginny Weasley to Hogsmeade? But that made no sense. Weasley was a Gryffindor, the enemy. Why would he risk being seen with her, and leave the grounds when he'd been forbidden to do so by his father and Snape?
"How am I supposed to feel, Seamus?" Dresch asked in a calmer, though no less tearful, voice. "Anderson likely used his charm and she agreed to go. She wouldn't have gone anywhere if I'd stayed with her because we were talking about…important things."
Anderson? Pansy frowned, shifting her thoughts to compensate for the mistake. The Slytherin Comedian had taken Weasley to Hogsmeade. How had Draco become involved?

I really can't stand you.

Pansy's hands clenched, the relative silence of the corridor making the words echo with a particular sharpness. A sudden image of his pale, snarling face reared in her memory and Pansy reeled for a moment, dropping her gaze from the couple. No, she thought numbly. We're destined to be together, our parents want it that way. I want it that way!
"She told you to come with me, Susan," Finnigan was speaking again, and Pansy felt the hot numbness in her chest spread. "Whatever it was, she was all right with your going. Please stop berating yourself."
Dresch was sobbing quietly again, and Pansy felt her numbness turn to anger. She turned back towards the two of them and glared daggers. Finnigan stood tall, a bit taller than Draco, and hovered protectively close to Dresch. For her part, Dresch was leaning into Finnigan's chest, her head was bowed and her short blonde hair gleamed in the soft torch light. Her shoulders were slumped and shook slightly with her quiet sobs. She looked so defeated, and Pansy felt her anger grow. Why should she cry? Was Dresch so certain of danger? Did she have so little faith in her friend's strength?
Was she not leaning on her man, while Pansy stood alone and in fear for the one person she cared about?

I hate you, I always have.

"What are you doing?" Pansy stepped from the shadows, glaring hatefully at the young couple. Susan and Seamus whirled around, startled.
"Wh-what do you want?" Susan asked faintly, her eyes wide as she frowned.
"Crying, and for what? Think the world has ended because your friend has gone missing?" Pansy snarled spitefully, stalking over to them, moving with an almost serpentine grace, "How unlike a Ravenclaw, charging into self blame and standing useless instead of using your brain!"
"Get out of here," Seamus growled, his green eyes burning with anger. Pansy laughed.
"Now that's more like it," she sneered, placing her hands on her hips as her gaze swept imperiously over Seamus, "Gryffindor fire. Very useful in pushing away anyone who talks sense. Can't have that interfering with our imbecilic bravery, can we?"
Seamus took a threatening step forward, but Susan grabbed his arm. Her eyes were narrow as she regarded Pansy silently.
"Why are you here, Parkinson," she asked after a moment.
Pansy rolled her eyes, "I always wander the corridors after hours looking for morons at play."
Seamus growled, and Susan's shoulders rose as she returned Pansy's glare.
"What do you know about it? If you had a drop of warmth in your blood you'd know why I'm frightened! Ginny's missing, maybe all alone—"

"Oh that's it, immediately assume the worst, and don't give a thought to who might be with her since they're missing too!" Pansy roared, her whole demeanor stiffening with rage, no longer caring if they were caught, "Two of my House mates are gone as well. They might not mean anything to you, but they're just as important to me as your Weasel is to you! If there's danger, then they're all in danger! Not just your Gryffindor Princess!"
The young couple reared back from Pansy's outburst, Seamus's eyes darting fearfully around.

"Will you lower your voice," he hissed, a fine sheen of sweat suddenly appearing on his brow, "if we're caught—"

"What do I care?" Pansy screamed, "Why should I be concerned about you when all you think about is yourselves? You don't even care that Draco—"

"That's enough," Susan shouted, stepping forward. But Pansy's reason seemed to have flown as her eyes snapped to Susan, furious that the stupid girl would dare interrupt her.

"Don't you talk to me that way!" Pansy was shrieking now, "How dare you? Selfish, rotten, narrow minded…" Pansy sputtered as she tried to think of a word nasty enough to convey how much she hated them at this moment. Here they stood, a pair of Hogwarts' darlings, standing in self righteous grief over their stupid friend, not a thought or word spared to Pansy's own house mates.
Standing together. Standing united, and comforting each other tenderly. If there were more Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, or even Hufflepuffs about, they would be comforting them as well.
Pansy stood alone. No one had asked or worried about Draco and Caleb, not that she knew of. No one had come forward to ask what the Slytherins knew, or to offer them comfort. Never mind that they wouldn't have accepted it, no one had even tried! Pansy's mind rattled as she thought of the anxiety she'd experienced since supper, when it was apparent that the three students were definitely missing. She'd been unable to talk to her friends, or to anyone in Slytherin about how she felt. She'd had no clue as to who she could reach out to, no one to whom she could whisper her dreadful fears. She stood alone, hearing Draco's last spoken words to her echoing endlessly in her mind.

Stay as far away from me as possible.

"You small minded little bigots!" she finally spat, tears of rage flooding her eyes and her head roaring with the sound of her own blood. She didn't even know that she'd raised her fists, and barely felt herself move forward. She only knew that she wanted to crush Susan Dresch, smash her into the flagstones until her face was a bloody pulp and her spirit a broken toy.

SMACK! Pansy reeled backwards, her hands flying to her face as Susan's sharp slap penetrated the fog of emotion trying to swallow her. She was saved from falling on her backside when Susan grabbed the front of her robes tightly, jerking her forward.
"Calm down," Susan growled unsteadily, her pixie-like face contorted with fury, "we are not your enemies, and we have not dismissed anything! Stop screaming at us as if you know our every thought, you don't!"
Seamus stared at his girlfriend in shock, obviously afraid to move. Susan released Pansy roughly, but continued to glare at her, "There isn't a student or teacher here who isn't shocked and afraid for them, all of them. Do you think everyone waits in the wings for one of you to drop over dead? Do you honestly think us so callous? Then you're judging us by your own example, because I have no doubt that's exactly what you do."

Susan's eyes filled with tears again, her own anger gaining strength, "The biggest fear I've ever had before now was failing an exam, or losing points for my House. Oh, I've feared You-Know-Who's return, and all the things that have happened at school since I started, like the Chamber of Secrets being opened and Sirius Black on the loose. But it was never close, or real! I've even had terrible thoughts about you Slytherins, but they were never serious. The most harm I've ever wished is for one of you to fall into a vat of Freezing Fusion, but if it ever actually happened I'd lose my mind! But you? You lot stare at everyone as though they should drop dead at your whim. You were thrilled to hear about You-Know-Who's return, and if ten of you shed tears or felt anything at Cedric Diggory's death, you hid it wonderfully!"

"That's right, we hid it," said a new voice emanating from the shadows where Pansy had been. They all turned quickly, Seamus looking almost white with fear but moving forward regardless as the figure emerged.
It was Blaise Zabini.
The dark haired Slytherin approached warily, her face caught between a frown and a sneer. Pansy stared blankly at her friend until Blaise was right next to her.
Blaise regarded Pansy neutrally for a moment, then turned to Susan.
"Did you really expect anything else from a House with a…less than solid reputation?"
Susan stared at the new arrival warily, "I don't know. I have no idea what I expected. You lot keep to yourselves and never let anyone in."
"Not terribly good PR, I know," Blaise's sneer grew for a moment before her face settled back into a neutral expression, "but it serves us, and it helps keep everyone guessing."
"Bully for you, then," Seamus growled sarcastically.
Pansy's gaze snapped to the tall young man, her eyes blazing with anger still, but Blaise placed a restraining hand on her arm, "I think we'll go now."
"Please do," Susan muttered. As Blaise tried to tug Pansy back towards the shadows, however, the blonde girl suddenly came to life again. She jerked Blaise to a halt and glared at Susan.
"Stop crying and do something useful. Your tears serve no purpose."
Susan glared back resentfully, "I know they serve no real purpose, but what else can I do? I can't banish my fears with a wave of my wand, can you?"
Seamus shook his head, scowling, and began to lead Susan back to the Ravenclaw Commons.
"Pansy," Blaise began leading her away again, and this time Pansy didn't resist, just stared at Susan until she and Seamus disappeared from sight, then turned away. She and Blaise walked in silence for several minutes; Pansy with her head down, and Blaise holding her friend's arm and keeping a sharp eye out for Prefects or Professors. As they neared the stairs, Pansy put a hand to her face, feeling the skin burn where the Ravenclaw bint slapped her. Tart! Little blind maggot! What did she know? She and that stupid Gryffindor were blind, partial, and…and…
"Idiots," Pansy murmured, "all of them! No one cares, no one!"
I hate you…stay as far away from me as possible.
No! Draco, you don't mean that, I know you don't! Pansy felt her whole body tense, her face stiffening and her heart beginning to hammer. He couldn't break up with her, they were destined to be together. She loved him, and he felt…similar. Well, she hadn't been sure if she loved him until that day he'd broken it off, but now she was sure. Wasn't she?
Pansy gripped her head, her fingers tangling with her fine, blonde hair. The pounding in her head had increased, and she was sure she had a migraine. Luckily she had some pain potions from home in her trunk. She was prone to migraines, as was her mother, and Pansy hadn't seen the harm in sneaking a few of them into school. She needed them to get through sometimes.
Like now, when her whole world was shattering around her, and had been for weeks.
Draco was gone, missing, quite possibly kidnapped and in danger. Their petty arguments meant nothing right now, she would accept his decisions and she would accept his contempt if it meant that he'd return to Hogwarts alive and whole.

Why are you feeling that? another voice asked. If he dies, then no one takes your place. No one else becomes Mrs. Malfoy.
That was true, but Pansy's heart rebelled violently against the thought of his coming to any harm, to the point where she physically shuddered.
"Pansy," Blaise hissed, "are you all right?"
The blonde girl looked up at her friend, then at her surroundings. They were descending the stairs to the dungeons. Pansy blinked, surprised that they'd come so far in so short a time.
"I…" Pansy's tongue felt thick, and it seemed too much an effort to talk, to explain. How do you explain loving someone? How do you explain being so frightened for them that you'd risk your position in their life, your reputation as one who got everything they wanted, if it meant they would be safe?
They walked further, and Pansy saw that they had entered the dungeon corridors. She suddenly wanted her bed, and the blessed forgetfulness of sleep. If it would come.

She felt Blaise's hand grip her arm again and stop their forward progress. Pansy turned to Blaise in confusion, wondering at the expression on her friend's face. It wasn't one she recognized, as it was part contempt and part…sympathy? Did Blaise feel sorry for her?

The thought alone was a shocking and confusing one. Pansy had a fleeting moment of anger as well, but was too drained to hold on to it.

"Pansy," the dark eyed girl whispered awkwardly, "it will…be all right."

Pansy blinked at her, comprehension eluding her for a moment. Blaise tried again;

"He'll be all right. Draco will come back soon, and he'll be fine."

A long moment of silence passed, and she could only stare at Blaise. After what seemed an eternity, Pansy found her voice;
"Are you certain?" Her whisper barely reached Blaise's ears, but the tears that once again began to seep from her eyes spoke volumes. "He might…die."
That was when the dam burst and Pansy could no longer hold back the heartbroken sobs that had burned in her bosom since the day he'd broken up with her. She had not cried in the company of her friends, or by herself about it. She'd ranted and plotted to get him back, filling her mind with scheme upon scheme. Not once had she acknowledged the pain he'd caused her.

Not once, before now, had she bothered to see clearly the pain she'd caused him.

Now it didn't matter, none of it. She just wanted him back in her life, even if it was to ignore her existence forever, even if it was to watch him choose someone else, like Blaise, or even Tracey, as a wife.

"I just want him back," she sobbed, "I don't care if he hates me, I just want him back!"
The delicate girl collapsed, and would have fallen to the stone floor had Blaise not caught her. Her expression caught between irritation and pity, Blaise sank to the ground and cradled Pansy in her arms, gently rocking her and murmuring whatever encouragement she could think of. It was all Blaise could do, and she truly hoped everything would turn out all right.
Somehow, she didn't fancy winning over her leader and rival this way.

*************

Draco pulled a piece of bread from the brown paper bag he was holding and stuffed it hungrily into his mouth. The delicious sensation of eating food, of filling one's empty belly, was one he had never appreciated before, and at this moment it was divine despite the burning his stomach was suffering. His ulcer, thankfully, didn't seem to have gotten any worse, but it had been painful. Fortunately, he'd been in too much mental chaos to take much notice. His mouth was dry enough that most of the bread stuck to his teeth or the roof of his mouth, but he was unmindful of this as he pulled out a slice of cheese and began to eat it greedily. A moment later the bag was snatched from his hands by Caleb, who had just finished draining half the skin of water Sirius had provided.

"Watsch it," Draco snapped with his mouth full, snatching the water and drinking deeply before he'd swallowed properly. He didn't care. He was so hungry that manners were, at this moment anyway, superfluous and unnecessary.

Once he'd drunk his fill, he looked around and saw that Ginny had grabbed the paper bag, and was now munching almost simultaneously on an apple and a chunk of bread. Her complexion had a bit more color now and she'd gathered up her long, tangled hair into a messy bun on top of her head. He felt himself color slightly as he watched her stuff the last of the bread in her mouth, her pink lips dusted with tiny bread crumbs, then immediately continue gnawing the apple. Munch, munch, munch.

When her tongue darted out to lick the crumbs off of her lips, Draco felt his teeth chomp down extra hard on his cheese, making them clack painfully. A snort to his left told him that Caleb had observed this.

Prat, he thought irritably.

Behind Ginny, Sirius was looking out into the trees and holding more water as Morgan stood guard. Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Potter's godfather move towards them. He was indebted to this man, and that grated slightly. After he'd transformed from his dog shape, he'd set about healing Draco's leg and feeding them. Draco felt irritation blossom as he remembered;

"Sirius!" Ginny had screamed, running to the shabbily clothed man and throwing herself into his arms. Caleb's jaw had dropped, and his eyes had widened almost fearfully. Draco had also felt shocked and somewhat fearful. Sirius Black! Although he knew from his father that Black hadn't actually done the crime he'd been accused of, he was still regarded as dangerous. In his weakened and wandless state, Draco felt that their danger had just increased tenfold.
Why was Morgan wagging her tail? Why didn't the stupid wench do something? Draco had been unable to believe what he was seeing. He and Caleb exchanged confused looks, wondering how a dangerous criminal from Azkaban had found them and wondering if they were about to go from the frying pan into the fire.
But then why was Weasley hugging him? Why was he smiling so gently at her? Draco's eyes had narrowed, his thoughts whirling.

Don't tell me they think he's innocent! Draco had thought incredulously. The next moment a spasm of pain had caused him to gasp loudly, momentarily making him forget his anger. That's when the dog-man had approached, staring in concern at Draco's leg as Ginny breathlessly filled him in on what was happening.
"I know about the attacks on Mr. Malfoy," Sirius had replied, frowning, "that's actually why I'm here."
Ginny had frowned as well, but remained silent. It was Caleb who'd asked the question; "How did you know where to find us?"
Sirius had glanced at Caleb for a moment, then returned his attention to Draco's injury.
"I have my sources," he'd replied shortly, pulling out his recently acquired holly and Unicorn hair wand. Draco saw Caleb glance at Morgan, his blue eyes narrowing suddenly.
"I'd be very interested in knowing what and who they are," Draco had frowned.
Sirius had smiled slightly, glancing at Draco, "I'm sure you would."
Draco didn't like that. He'd looked over at Morgan, sitting next to Sirius and watching them all with her strange, brown-green eyes. She'd saved him once, then betrayed them all. Trust was ever so thin a commodity, and Draco had precious little of it even in the best of times. Cryptic answers tended to exacerbate his already short temper.
And he was Potter's Godfather. The thought made Draco's face tighten slightly as he regarded the older man.
"I think I have a right to know," he insisted.
"How did it happen?" Sirius asked absently, ignoring the question and continuing to examine Draco's injury.
"I threw myself on a large rock in the hope a dangerous and smelly criminal would come and rescue me," Draco replied acidly, "luckily you were around."
"Draco," Ginny had said warningly, her gaze darting anxiously to Black.
Sirius had regarded Draco for a moment, his deep eyes glittering. Then Black had moved closer to Draco, sniffing deeply.
"I wouldn't make remarks about being smelly if I were you, Mr. Malfoy," Black had smirked. Draco had glared daggers for a moment, but then another wave of pain had washed over him, causing him to fall flat on his back.
"I have experience as a field Medi-Wizard, young sir," Black had said then, the undertone of amusement in his voice unmistakable, "I must say, you've got the childish act down, don't you?"
Black chuckled as he said this, but cleared his throat at Ginny's soft protest, "Will you please allow me to mend your bones?"
Draco's anger combined with the excruciating pain made him snarl his assent, and Sirius had quickly cast the Bone Mending Spell. Draco felt a sudden, deep cold pervade his injured leg, and could actually feel the bones move. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes tightly, and in a few moments the cold left his limb completely.
"That should do it," Sirius's voice cut through the silence. Draco slowly opened his eyes and looked around. Caleb was grinning at him, while Ginny was standing silently next to Black, staring at the ground. Black was examining his leg, and Draco sat up to look for himself. The skin was now whole and unbroken, and he could move without pain. His leg was still a little stiff, but he reckoned a bit of walking would sort that out. He got carefully to his feet.
"Thank you, Sirius," Ginny had said quietly, frowning at the ground and hugging Harry's godfather.
"Thank you," he'd said curtly to Black, who'd nodded gravely at him. Then Black had produced the food.
"You finished with that?" Caleb asked, bringing Draco's thoughts sharply back to the present.
"What?" he frowned.
"The water," Caleb said with exaggerated patience, "Are-you-finished-with-it?"
Draco pursed his lips and tossed the bottle, aiming for Anderson's head. Fortunately Anderson was well coordinated enough to snatch the almost empty skin mid flight. He grinned cheekily at Draco and walked over to Sirius for the full skin. Draco's expression turned sour once more, and he wondered if he really was acting like a child. He looked to his left. Somewhere in the shadows over there the body of a dead boy lay and perhaps only Draco knew of him, besides his killers, of course. Draco'd been kidnapped and dragged miles from Hogwarts and his parents, endured multiple attacks on his person, found out that this had all been contracted by a mysterious someone for reasons Draco could only guess at, and had fallen hard for the Spotted Menace.
Draco remembered calling her that at the end of last term. Ginny had turned her huge, hurt eyes on him and run. He hadn't felt the satisfaction he'd expected to feel at the time, but then, he never did anymore. Putting others down, though a great way to boost one's flagging spirits, had begun to lose its element of fun right about the end of his fourth year, and Draco knew it was no coincidence. The Dark Lord had returned, pressure from his father to do well, and to live up to his expectations, had increased. Abusing others had become more of an outlet than ever before, and that had caused the pleasure to die.
He suddenly wondered if she remembered, and if she was still angry about it.
Why don't you remind her of it, a cold voice mocked, then you'll know for sure. The thought made Draco scowl as he moved about restlessly. He didn't want to make her angry, he wanted to see her smile. He wanted to see if her face was as luminous in every day life as it had been when he'd kissed her. He wanted to kiss her again, and this time he wanted his hands free to touch her. He wanted her intoxicating smell to flood his nostrils and paralyze his brain again; that smell of dirt, sweat, a cheap perfume, and beneath all the warm smell of her skin. Draco turned roughly, almost snarling, and began to pace, his eyes focused on the ground.
He wanted a cold shower. He really, really wanted a cold shower. Maybe there was a pond nearby?
As he walked first one way, then another, he discreetly glanced at Ginny. She was talking rapidly to Black, her hands gesturing emphatically, her expression intense. For his part, Black's expression was equal parts anger and concern. He crossed his arms and bowed his head as he listened to his Godson's friend, no doubt processing all the information he was receiving and formulating some new plan. Draco's eyes slid back to Ginny. Somehow, with her tangled and messy hair, torn robes, and dirt streaked appearance, she was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
It was the way her spirit glowed with life, something Draco had never really known before.
He'd never thought it could happen, never thought to look beyond the boundaries of his father's circle, or his housemates in Slytherin, for someone to fall in love with. Or at least to form an attachment to. Who else was worthy enough for him to bestow his attention on? Coming from a rich and pedigreed background was not the only requirement either; Draco had learned to mark a woman's ambition, her intelligence and how it could be used to gain advantage (whether the lady in question was smart enough to catch on to his evaluation or not), her connections in Wizarding Society and how advantageous they might be, and other seemingly important traits. Why had he never been taught to look for courage? What about strength to overcome unbelievable odds? What about determination that was willful and defiant in the face of fear and horror, leaving the spirit unbroken and the heart all the stronger for it? He'd never noticed these things before in anyone. He'd never had to.
Draco stopped pacing, his eyes focusing on the shadows ahead of him. Bravery. What was it except another word for idiocy? Draco had been taught all his life that bravery was an emotion that erased your common sense and made you do incredibly stupid things like fight dragons or defy the powerful. Bravery would kill you faster than the Death Curse.
But tonight he'd seen a young woman display a kind of bravery that only made him respect her. Bravery had pushed her to continue flailing in her bonds, not stopping just because she'd lost some skin. Skin healed, and blood was replenished by the body. She'd fought until she'd won, and Draco didn't see how her common sense had abandoned her. Not only had she fought for herself, but she'd attempted to fight for her companions. Despite his earlier bluster, Draco truly hadn't meant to downgrade her actions. He was grateful she'd tried to free them, of course. But her accusation had infuriated and hurt him, especially after he'd tried so hard to bring them a practical means of escape, and had found a dead body on top of everything else. He'd just wanted her to understand that he wasn't like her, but his Slytherin pride demanded that he meet her verbal assault with a stronger one of his own.
He knew he'd succeeded, damn it all, and he wondered if she'd ever forgive him for it. She hadn't met his eyes since.
As he stood there staring out into the darkness, Ginny looked over at him. He didn't know that her breath caught in her throat at the sight of his still figure, or that her heart pounded with her love for him as she took in his pale, troubled face, nor did he see the troubled expression cross her own face. If he had, he might have felt the weight on his heart become a bit lighter. Instead, Draco was forced to find cheer where he could.
"Draco?" a voice beside him made him jump.
"Damn it," he growled, "why are you always pestering me, Anderson?"
"Excuse me," Caleb replied dryly, handing him some sliced cheese, "but I find I can't go ten minutes without trying to twist your brain into pretzelian shapes."
"Pretzelian?" Draco frowned, stuffing the cheese into his mouth.
"Think pretzel, Malfoy," Caleb grinned, "But don't strain yourself."
"Ha ha," Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm so glad you're around to spread your particular brand of joy. Makes me long to stab myself through the eye with a blunt quill!"
"Don't let me stop you," Caleb replied cheerfully.
Draco took the remaining slice of cheese and smacked it onto Caleb's forehead, where it stuck rather nicely.

****************

Harry felt the tears freeze against his temples as he sped through the cold wind alongside Professor Snape. Their heading had been almost due south, and Harry knew they weren't far from Edinburgh. They had made amazing time considering they were following a land bound creature, and Harry had been taken aback several times as Snape had whistled to the ground, signaling their four legged guide to slow down.
Snape. Harry shuddered as he regarded the Potions Master out of the corner of his eye. Snape's eyes were still glowing that eerie blood red, and it was too creepily accurate as far as Harry was concerned. He remembered how the younger students liked to say that Snape was a vampire. Harry wasn't so sure about that, but if he was, he'd make a damn good one. No one could top Snape in the dark and creepy department!
Harry then glanced slightly behind and almost grinned as he saw Ron grimacing in pain at Hermione's tight hold. She was no longer hiding her face, but her head had not left Ron's shoulder as her eyes darted about in terrified fascination. Every time the broom jostled in the slightest her grip would tighten further, causing Ron to protest. A hasty "Sorry," from her only made Ron grumble, which made Hermione snap back defensively. And the bickering would begin until Ron's distraction, or a sudden gust of turbulence, caused the broom to jostle again. Then it was hide and squeeze for Hermione. Harry considered telling her that distracting Ron would only make things worse, but he was having too much fun watching them argue to really do anything about it.
Lord knows I need a laugh, he thought, suddenly sobering. He turned away, focusing his eyes on the ground and was able to dimly make out Lupin's wolf form running tirelessly among the trees. He quickly lost sight of the werewolf amongst the many shadows, but a glance at Snape told him they were still on course. The Potions Master stared down and ahead with rigid determination, and Harry had no doubt he could see everything around him with perfect clarity.
I'll bet he can see all the way down into hell, Harry thought, feeling chills race up his spine.
His musings were cut off when Snape suddenly straightened, holding up his hand and signaling a halt.
"What is it?" Ron asked, frowning worriedly at Snape.
"Silence," the Professor snapped. Peering down intently, Snape's eyes narrowed as he studied the werewolf below. Harry also peered anxiously down, finally spotting Remus after a few moments. There was a divide in the road here as it forked off in two directions, one east and the other west. The werewolf was sniffing the ground intently, moving in circles, then moving off to the east fork. Snape drifted to the ground as Lupin began to emit high pitched whines, as if calling them down to him.
Snape dismounted quickly, almost scowling. Harry hovered near by, ready to take off in an instant while Ron dismounted and allowed Hermione some precious minutes on solid ground. Lupin was pawing and nuzzling at the ground, and Harry thought he saw something glitter next to the wolf's huge snout.
"What is it?" Snape asked shortly, kneeling down and frowning at the spot Lupin was pawing at. Then the Potions Master stilled, cocking his head to one side and slowly reaching down to lift the object Lupin had found.
It was a necklace, with a gold rose pendant attached.
"That's Elizabeth's," Hermione burst out, "I've seen her wear it before, I know it's hers!"
"Obviously, Miss Granger, as I doubt Lupin would have stopped us for a treasure hunt," Snape growled, causing Hermione to blush.
"What's it doing here, I wonder," Ron asked to cover the awkward moment. Snape glared at the necklace, then turned to Lupin.
"I'm sure I don't know, but perhaps the werewolf could tell us if he weren't conveniently unable to speak." The Potions Master snapped.
Lupin growled deep in his throat, and Harry scowled angrily.
"I'm sure he doesn't know either, Professor. Maybe it's a sign?"
"Of what," the professor sneered, "her eternal devotion? I was unaware that tossing heartfelt gifts by the wayside indicated deep attachment."
"Who says it's a gift?" Harry asked. Snape didn't reply.
"Maybe," Ron said thoughtfully, "she knew someone would follow along."
Snape turned a contemptuous glare on the young Gryffindor, "So now she isn't in league with the enemy, Mr. Weasley?"
Ron scowled defensively, and Hermione spoke up hesitantly as a new thought struck her.
"Perhaps," she said slowly, "Elizabeth is spying on the inside, as you once did with the Death Eaters?"
At these words, Snape's glare turned absolutely poisonous.
"And what do you know about that, Miss Granger?" he asked in a chillingly smooth voice. Hermione's eyes widened as Harry and Ron gulped.
"It was a deduction, sir," she replied quietly, "Dumbledore confirmed it. But I'm sure we three are the only ones who know."
Snape's lip curled as he regarded them each in turn, "Aahh, the Gryffindor Trio. Always in the thick of things, aren't you? Can't leave well enough alone."
Harry spoke then, a vision of The Chamber of Secrets rising in his memory, "Sometimes it's necessary, especially when no one else seems to know what to do."
"So speaks Perfect Potter, the Tri-Wizard Champion," Snape's contempt hit them all with the force of a slap. Harry's teeth gritted and his heart began to pound hard as he struggled to supress his anger at this crass reminder of Cedric.
"It's better than being a failed Death Eater who can't do anything except hide behind Dumbledore because he's wanted dead by the Dark Lord!" Ron cried furiously, his neck, ears, and face visibly red even in the pale moonlight.
"Ron!" Hermione gripped his arms though she, too, was red with fury. Lupin growled loudly at Snape, baring his teeth and rising onto his hind legs. Snape glared at him.
"Enough of this," the Professor snapped, "the trail grows colder by the minute."
The Potions Master walked right in front of Lupin, as if daring him to do anything, then mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground. Harry glared hatefully at him as he rose, then turned to his friends.
"It'd be great if we could just hex him and leave him here," he growled, his lip curling in a fair imitation of the Professor's.
"We need him," Hermione said firmly, though Harry and Ron both fancied they heard a bit of reluctance in her voice. Lupin whuffed at Harry, then trotted off a short distance, pausing to turn back and regard them.
"If you aren't in the air in five seconds, Mr. Weasley, it will be twenty points from Gryffindor," Snape's voice floated down to them. The Trio made noises of protest, but quickly obeyed. Luckily, Hermione was still too angry to be afraid of mounting the broom. Her grip on Ron was firm but not painful, for once. Until they started to rise, that is. Then she gasped and squeezed his middle tightly.
"Ouch! Herm!" he protested irritably.
"Sorry," she snapped.
"You're always sorry," Ron groaned, "can you not be sorry for once and stop trying to suffocate me?"
"I'm not trying to suffocate you, Ron, so stop saying I am!"
Harry smiled slightly as the bickering began anew.

************

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These Deep Solitudes-8

Title: These Deep Solitudes (08)
Author name: Carfiniel
Author email: carfiniel@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13

Summary: Chapter Eight: In which Severus and Sirius have an unusual encounter, Remus bids Rain farewell, and Lucius calls Severus evil names.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended

Chapter Eight - High Stakes

"Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me opens wide
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven."

-- Milton, Paradise Lost

It was with deep chagrin that Severus answered the Headmaster's summons on Friday afternoon. He was still unsure what to do about Pettigrew, and had hoped he could consider the situation a little longer before reporting it to Dumbledore. He had brewed the protection potions, and had sent them via owl to Pettigrew, with a terse note outlining the main effects of the potions, and promising more if Pettigrew didn't annoy him too much. Perhaps threatening Voldemort's right-hand rat hadn't been particularly prudent, but Severus had a feeling Pettigrew wouldn't be reporting it to the Dark Lord anytime soon.

Severus muttered the password ("Sugarquill") and let the moving staircase carry him towards Dumbledore's office. When he reached the door, he knocked and strode in without waiting for an answer. To his astonishment and fury, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were already there with the headmaster. Severus stopped dead, glaring daggers at Black. For his part, the fugitive had clenched his fists and fairly trembled with hatred.

"So the murderer has returned," Severus said, biting off each word.

"Ah, and the slimy traitorous git is still teaching," Black returned, his cheeks flushing with anger.

"Padfoot," Lupin murmured, putting a hand on Black's elbow. The other man shook it off impatiently.

"That is enough," Dumbledore said quietly, rising. His expression was mild, but his eyes flashed stern command. Severus bit his tongue until he tasted blood, but he subsided.

Dumbledore waved his wand to summon chairs for his guests, then sat down behind his desk once more. "I do not understand why we must go over this repeatedly. Severus, Sirius, you were both very young, and ruled by youthful passions. That is no excuse now. The past twenty years have wrought changes in all of us; one suppose it may be too much to hope it has brought either of you wisdom, but maturity, at least, is expected."

Severus glanced at Lupin, who sighed. It was almost a sound of regret. Black's eyes still smouldered rebelliously, but as he gazed at the headmaster, he slowly lowered his head and nodded. Severus looked back at Dumbledore, who raised his eyebrows. Clenching his teeth--Think of Rain; do this for Rain--he stood and walked across to Black, extending his hand. Black stared at it for a moment, then stared up at him, and http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~scain/TDS08TRUCE.JPG gripped his hand. When Severus sat down, he found the headmaster's speculative gaze upon him. Severus grimaced at him, and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for a moment.
"Remus," the headmaster said, "please tell us what you've done this week."
Lupin nodded. "I set up wards around Rain's office, and reinforced the personal defenses I gave her--before."

Black shifted. "How is she?" he asked gruffly.

"Cautiously optimistic," Lupin replied. "She has promised to be careful. She's returned to her teaching, which has been going well, I believe."

"She is already causing confusion among the students of my house," Severus volunteered. "Thanks to her strange teaching methods, 'Prince' Draco has been sulking since Tuesday. He has become positively churlish." He surprised himself by snickering.

Black stared at him. "Coming fro--" he began, and cut himself off when Lupin kicked him.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. "And you, Severus? What have you learned?"

He drew in a deep breath. "It was Pettigrew who sent the curse. As I suspected. He asked me to protect him from his old friends." He sneered at the Marauders out of habit. Black swore and half-stood. Lupin stared at the fire, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Severus would have enjoyed their reactions more if he didn't feel essentially the same. That the rat could have dared attack someone so silvery, so luminous, as Katraina--he closed his eyes briefly and let the anger pass.

"I have already had a small measure of revenge against him," he said, smirking. "The Ironskin Potion does indeed grant temporary physical invulnerability, but it becomes a painful experience, and must be renewed daily. Each successive dose is less effective than the last. He won't enjoy that potion." He fancied Black and Lupin were more cheered by this news than Dumbledore. "Of course, Pettigrew always was abysmal at Potions--worse, I hazard, than even Longbottom.

"The information has been harder to trace. I am still not certain who told Pettigrew about Katraina's...weakness." He was not going to name it in front of Black. Snape fancied he had seen Rain's feelings for Lupin before she had even realized her interest in Black was waning; if Rain hadn't told Lupin, Black certainly wouldn't know.

"As if we would ever believe you had nothing to do with it," Black snarled, angry again, and for a moment Severus actually thought the man would break their uneasy truce and hit him.

"Be quiet, you stupid man," Severus snapped, glaring at him. "Of course I have had to divulge information about her, about all of you. It is my only way of protecting he--this school." He clenched his teeth and cursed himself silently for the slip.

Black was fairly dancing in his seat, his face red. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder, his knuckles white with the strength of his grip. Neither of them seemed to have heard the mistake. Dumbledore had. His face was grave; but a twinkle in behinds the spectacles betrayed his amusement. Severus drew in a deep breath through his nose, trying to calm himself. He hated being laughed at, even privately.

"Are you mad?" Black said, his voice tense. "To go back in there time after time? One of these days they're going to recognize you for the treacherous snake that you are, and then that'll be it for you. Oh, wait--" He laughed shortly. "I forgot, they're all treacherous snakes, aren't they? Everyone knows Slytherin can be pronounced Death Eater."

"Contrary to your uninformed opinions," Severus said through gritted teeth, "there are just as many Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors, among the Death Eaters. Oh yes, Gryffindors--I would have thought you'd have personal knowledge of that, Black." He curled his lip. "After all, it does take a certain amount of courage to face the Dark Lord's tests of loyalty."

"You are mad!" Black growled.

Severus had had enough. "I am not mad!" he snarled, coming to his feet and clenching his fists. "I would to heaven I were! For then 'tis like I should forget myself!"

The three men stared at him, and he flushed, realizing he had said too much. Black looked taken aback, and there was a new light of understanding in Lupin's eyes that made Severus cringe. He snarled and turned back to his seat.

"Sirius," the headmaster said gently, "I knew when I sent Severus back into that Devil's Snare of Death Eaters, that his safety could only be assured if I allowed him to pass along information. He walks a very thin blade's edge, spying for us while pretending to spy for them." He took a deep breath. "It weighs very heavily on my conscience. If you wish to blame someone for Rain's injury, blame me."

Sirius shook his head, but Dumbledore said firmly, "Do not blame Severus. He is not happy about betraying his friend. He does what he must to protect us, Rain, and himself."

Sulkily, Black looked down at his clenched fists. "Have you heard from Arthur Weasley?"

"I expect word from him this week. His son Bill has been in touch with Remus."

Severus looked at Lupin in surprise. So he was doing more than simply moon over Rain? Lupin saw the surprise in his glance and nodded wryly at him.

"Bill and I are meeting tomorrow evening to discuss some information he has. He is in a secure location, but is coming out briefly to help us."

Dumbledore rose. "Be careful, all of you. Let me know at once if anything untoward occurs. Sirius, if you'll wait a moment--"

Severus found himself going down the staircase with Lupin, who was blessedly silent. When they reached the bottom, Severus turned to go back to his dungeons, but Lupin put out a hand.

"She doesn't blame you," he said quietly. "I thought--well, if she doesn't blame you, I don't reckon I have the right to blame you, either."

Normally it would have made Severus angry. If questioned, he wouldn't be able to say why today it was different. He stared at the werewolf, unable to tell what expression he showed. After a moment he closed his mouth, nodded curtly, and left.

~*~

Remus sighed and sat back on his heels, surveying his work. He'd finished strengthening the wards about Rain's window seat; now only Arcanus and owls whom Rain invited in would be able to enter. He didn't think Peter would be brave enough to try again, and Rain would certainly be more cautious of packages in the future...but better safe than sorry.

He was lingering there, hoping she would stop in here before going to dinner. Dumbledore had summoned him, and with the wording of the note, Remus knew what it was about. He was being sent to Wales. At their meeting the night before, Bill Weasley had told him of a prominent werewolf there, Huw Pritchard, who had been agitating for werewolf rights. Dumbledore wanted Remus to approach him and win him to the Order before Voldemort could steal him. Remus wanted to say goodbye to Rain before he went.

Her footsteps, when his ears picked out their approach, were accompanied by another person, who walked too lightly to be an adult. He let himself out into the office just as the door opened. Colin Creevey followed Rain into the room, a smile on his face. When he saw Remus, he faltered slightly. Rain, however, simply smiled at him.

"Remus, have you finished the wards?"

He smiled vaguely in return. "I was just waiting for you to inspect them."

"Excuse us for just a moment, Colin," she said, following Remus back into her room. She closed the door behind her and put her arms around his neck. 'This child is driving me ma-a-ad," she whispered, kissing him quickly.

He snickered. "He has a tendency to do that," he said. "Look, we haven't but a minute. I need to say goodbye for a few days. The headmaster has an errand for me. Be careful, Rain. Don't leave the castle unless you're with Dumbledore or Minerva. Or Severus," he added after a moment, because he could be mature, dammit.

She smiled wryly at him, as if she knew what he was thinking. "I promise," she said, and kissed him again, more slowly.

"If you keep that up, I won't be able to make myself leave," he said when they parted. He shook his head and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Oh, I don't want to leave you at all, Rainy Day," he whispered. "Please be careful."

She gave a tiny laugh. "You're the one who needs to be careful." She pulled away and tilted her head. "I love you, Remus. You had better come back to me."

He caught her hand in his and held it to her heart. "You know I will. I've loved you as long as I've known you."

She coloured prettily and he grinned at her. Opening the door, he raised his voice. "Well, if the wards are satisfactory, Rain, I'll leave you to it. Be well."

She followed him back out, to where Colin was sitting in a chair kicking his feet idly. "Quite satisfactory, thank you, Remus. I'll see you later."

He let himself out as she turned her attention back to Colin. It tore at his heart to leave her at all; he had wasted too much time already for him to be comfortable spending more time away from her. But he had told Dumbledore he would serve in an capacity, and he could not refuse the old man. With dragging feet, he made his way to the headmaster's office.

Sirius was waiting there, which was a welcome surprise. He was pacing, unaware that he was watched. Remus winced as Sirius took six paces, turned, took eight paces, turned again, and took six more paces. He had never said, but Remus suspected they were the dimensions of his cell in Azkaban. When Sirius turned again, he saw Remus. The shadows on his face vanished and he came towards him, smiling.

"Moony, I heard the most interesting thing from Harry this afternoon. You'll never guess."

Remus smiled in resignation. "What is it?"

Sirius shrugged playfully. "Oh, not much of anything, really. Never mind."

"No you don't," Remus said, grinning. "Out with it, Padfoot, before I hit you with a Nepabractarus Curse! Hard to keep a secret when you're scrambling to get the imaginary scorpions out of your trousers!"

Sirius shook his head. "Nah, it's not actually that interesting. Forget it."

Remus pushed up his sleeves and advanced, scowling theatrically. Sirius held up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, all right! Harry just asked me if you and Rain had ever been, you know, more than friends." He smirked. "When I said I couldn't tell him, he asked if she and I had ever..." He waggled an eyebrow.

Remus wasn't altogether surprised, though he suspected the more perceptive Hermione had put the idea in Harry's head. "And...?"

Sirius was still leering. "You know me. Can't resist a good boast."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Padfoot, she's a teacher!"

Sirius chuckled. "Don't be such a prat, Moony. I didn't tell him anything. Said I'd kissed her a couple of times, and so had you, and P--well, a couple of other friends." His face darkened momentarily, but then he laughed. "I also seized the opportunity to tell him he shouldn't lose any more time with that feisty Weasley girl." He buffed his nails on his robe. "I may have let on that I was a bit more regretful over Rain than I am, mind you. Gather ye rosebuds and all that."
Remus shook his head, laughing. "You are incorrigible."

"I just hope he takes my advice to heart. Ginny Weasley worships him--well, all those Weasleys do, really--and he couldn't do much better."

"Do you regret Rain?" Remus asked impulsively. Then he flinched, not sure he wanted the answer.

Sirius didn't answer for a long moment. He gazed thoughtfully at Fawkes, watching a tiny flame lick its way down a wing. Finally he said, "Well, sure, yeah, a little. I mean, any man she'd loved would have to be daft not to. I mean, even that barmy git's lost to her--was he really meant to marry her? Harry said he'd heard it somewhere. Bloody odd, that--so, regret? I suppose I do, rather. Fine thing that is, eh?" He flickered a grin at Remus, who tried a weak laugh.

"Then, do you want me to--to step aside?" he asked, feeling sick. He didn't think he'd be able to, even for Sirius--the man he'd willingly die for. "She loved you first."

Sirius looked at him in amusement. "You dolt," he said fondly. "You've always been so angry at me for ignoring Rain--lord, that time you punched me over the Leaver's Ball!" He laughed. "Dear, silly ass. Did you never realize that I couldn't do anything about her, because I knew you were in love with her?"
Remus blinked. "You knew--"

"Hopeless. Absolutely dizzy," Sirius said implacably. He shrugged. "Who didn't know, that's the real question. Lily did. James--well, perhaps James didn't notice. Peter knew. She was so kind to him--bloody bastard!" He clenched his fists for a moment, then forced himself to relax. "What killed me was how she always chummed about with Snape. She was so bloody smart, couldn't she see what a git he was? Him and all that Pureblood horseshit he spouted."

"Rain's a Pureblood," Remus said mildly. "And you're no mongrel, either."

Sirius' gaze turned fierce. "That's right, and look at us, Moony. You're the best of all of us, faithful and brilliant. And you're the one with a Muggle granddad."

Remus smiled. Sirius could be a stubborn prat sometimes, but he was fiercely loyal; he always had been. Remus still found it unbelievable that he could ever have thought Sirius a traitor. "I had a good role model," he said. "Albus taught me everything I know of faithfulness and brilliance."

"What embarrassing timing," said a quiet, amused voice from the doorway. Remus and Sirius turned to watch the headmaster stride into the center of the room. He moved with a speed and agility that belied his age; yet Remus saw lines of care on the old man's face.

"I apologize for keeping you," Dumbledore said. "I had some unfinished business which took longer than I had expected." He conjured three chairs into a triangle, and took one of them himself. "Gentlemen, I will attempt to be brief. Remus, you know about Huw Pritchard; some of this information comes from Severus, and some of it from my liaison with the Pendragons. Dem fine woman, tall thing with lots of red hair; makes a very fine Japanese tea ceremony, too."

Remus coughed quietly and Dumbledore beamed at him. "Quite right, Remus. I'm getting off-topic. Well, Pritchard is a key figure in Wizarding Wales, or the whole United Kingdom for that matter. He's been agitating for Being status, and Severus says Voldemort's eye is finally turning towards him. You must not allow him to join the enemy."

"Is Sirius coming with me?" Remus asked. "Only werewolves can be quite territorial, with those who aren't--erm, pack." He felt a small throb begin at his temples. He had never liked talking about his kind, and now he was doubly uncomfortable; he felt as if he were somehow selling out his own. But his side was Dumbledore's, and if he wanted to two parts of him--wizard and wolf--to ever be at peace, he knew he had to try to draw the two sides together.

"No, no," Albus said, beaming. "No, my boy, Sirius is here because of a very good idea--mine, in fact. I know you will be uncomfortable, leaving Rain here alone--as am I--so I arranged for Sirius to come and keep an eye on her. I believe the creature was pining for its mistress." He chuckled and glanced at Sirius, who whined and made not-quite-literal puppy dog eyes at Remus.

"Harry and his friends--" Remus began.

"Already knew about the plan," Sirius said. "That ba--erm, Potions Master, knows me, too, though."

"I did not forget," Dumbledore said, looking reprovingly at Sirius. "He had some choice words on the matter, but he agreed to go along with it. Though he wished me to convey the message that he will not follow a black dog anywhere." There was a tiny sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

Remus nodded. "I'd better get going if I'm to catch the night train. Padfoot, tell Rain she may take you out for walks."

Sirius growled at him, making him laugh, then surprised him by pulling him into a rough embrace. "Be careful, Moony," he said in a slightly suspect voice. "It's getting dark out there.

Remus knew he didn't mean the sunset.

~*~

Severus fought the urge to sneer the first time he saw Rain with Black trailing at her heels. Oh, what he wouldn't have given to have seen that years ago, when Black had belittled Rain's love--belittled it, a thing so precious as that, when Severus would have given the world for it! But Rain had taught Severus not to be entirely selfish, and even though he hated Black, if that prat's love would have made Rain happy, Severus would have accepted it.

He didn't fight the urge too violently. "What a lovely mutt you have there, Katraina," he sneered.

She frowned slightly at him. "But he--oh, of course." Her brow cleared. "Come now, Severus," she said lightly, falling in beside him and slipping a hand onto his arm. "Be kind. Even strays need a home."

He grimaced but did not pull away. He allowed few people the familiarity of touching him, but his heart trembled when her fingers rested on the sleeve of his robe. Damn you, he thought, it is far easier to hate everyone.

"I thought you might join me for dinner," she suggested, her voice blithe. "And then, perhaps, would you play chess with me? I very much miss it, when Remus is away."

She sought his company. He knew he should refuse, knew he couldn't let her get any closer to him. Yet...she and Remus had not been together all this time, as he had always supposed. She obviously had no feelings for Black, whom she led around like a real hound. She had asked Severus to join her.

The black dog growled warningly and before Severus could stop himself, he heard his voice say, "It would be my very great pleasure."

She smiled dazzlingly at him, and he thought his heart paused for a moment. At that exact moment the Dark Mark, in its place under her fingers, began to burn. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from wincing. Taking a deep breath, he said slowly, "I am afraid I will only have time for one game, however. I have--business this night."

Instantly she looked concerned--concerned for him, damn her!--and said, "Oh, Severus, I'm sorry! Would it be better if--"

He waved his free hand in a graceful gesture of denial. "One game," he repeated. "Are you on your way to dinner now?"

"Yes. I was going to sneak some scraps to Snuffles under the table."

Snuffles. He stared in total astonishment at the dog. For a moment Black hung his head, tail drooping. Then his brown eyes met Severus' and the dog lifted his head, growling again.

"I...see," Severus said finally. They walked towards the Great Hall in silence. Through the burning of the Dark Mark, Severus was conscious that he felt almost at ease. When they reached the door, however, he tensed. Now Rain would drop his arm, pretend they were not walking in together--but for once he had underestimated her. If anything, the presence of her hand became more commanding. He swept into the room and she floated in on his arm, regal and self-possessed.

He was aware of a certain sense of awe in him, reverence for the great lady she had become, worship for the companionship and grace she offered to him, respect for her teaching skills and deft handling of his Slytherins. She should have been one of us, he thought.

They were not immediately noticed, so they had the grace to reach the head table before murmurs from the students reached a louder pitch. Severus felt himself blushing--lord, blushing! At his age!--and scowled at the Slytherin table. They, at least, were quelled by him. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were another matter. Potter met his gaze with hostility and challenge that was so reminiscent of James that Severus caught his breath. "Little prig," he muttered.
Rain shot him an amused glance as he pulled out her chair for her. She settled serenely into it, calmly ignoring the student reaction. As Severus moved to sit next to her, he felt a tug at his hem. The black dog was gripping his robe firmly in its teeth. Severus said quietly, "If you don't call off your dog, I'll slip a Thawing Potion into his food."

She actually laughed. "Heel, Snuffles," she said. "And don't rip his robes. The cut is too dashing." She glanced at Severus with a smirk. "Well, I'm glad to see you remember something from Muggle Studies. Only it's antifreeze, Severus; I doubt a Thawing Potion would do much to him."

He grimaced at her, and she smiled pleasantly back. He sat down to eat his supper, ignoring the pain in his arm.

It only took him thirty minutes to checkmate her king, but her playing had been sloppy and he knew it. He fought the impulse to say something cutting. Instead, when she tipped her king with a sigh, he frowned. "You shouldn't worry so much about him. He's going among his own kind, after all. You're distracting yourself."

She flushed and looked down. "I'm that transparent, am I?"

"To me," he said before thinking. Then it was his turn to look away. He stood up and swept his robes around him. "I must go. If I am back by tomorrow night, I am at your service, should you care to play a better game than tonight's." He turned.

"Severus." He stopped but didn't look back. When her hand touched his arm, just over the Mark, he twitched. "It's Him, isn't it?" she said in a low voice. When he didn't respond she came to stand in front of him. Staring up into his eyes, she touched his cheek gently. "Be careful."

Not trusting himself to reply, he nodded once, curtly, then brushed past her to the door. He heard the black dog bark once before the door closed behind him.

~*~

Sirius bounded to his feet as soon as Severus was gone. "What the bloody hell was that for?" he demanded.

Rain sighed and put her hands to her temples. "Please, Sirius, hasn't this day been hard enough?"

He ignored this. "I have tried to accept that there's something inside that slimy git that you like, even though I can't for the life of me see what. But this is going too far, Rainstorm, too far!"

"Too far?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Sirius had apparently forgotten the warning signs of her temper--then again, he wasn't accustomed to having it directed at him. He paced eight steps and then six, then spun to face her. "I mean, Godric's beard, Rain, you're practically engaged to Remus!"

Practically engaged? She settled a cool gaze on him. "That will be enough, Sirius." He stared at her in chagrin. She continued. "I do not know--I have never known--what you and James had against Severus. I don't know, nor do I care, what poison you spread against him with others. What I do know is that Severus is as brilliant as any of you, in his own way, and that he is now your ally. Everyone must stand together and work together, Sirius, or we will fall together." Sirius hung his head, looking like nothing so much as a scolded dog, but Rain wasn't finished.

"If you can't do it for yourself, do it for your godson. Harry has enough he has to deal with, especially after what happened last year. Severus does tend to punish him for his father, but you don't have to continue to goad Severus. It only makes it harder on Harry." She sighed. "You know I love you, Sirius, but Severus is my friend, too, and I cannot continually be punished for it. Severus, at least, does not take me to task for my choice of friends."

She rubbed at her eyes. "Oh, I am so tired, Sirius," she said, annoyed by the plaintive note in her voice. "And I am worried for him." To her horror, she felt tears well up in her eyes.

Wordlessly Sirius bowed to her, without a trace of irony. When he straightened, he saw her tears and pulled her close in a hug. "I'm sorry, Rainstorm. I'm being a git myself, aren't I? All right, I'll quit nagging you about him. And don't worry about Remus; he'll be fine." He hesitated, then said slowly, "Do you want Padfoot tonight, Rain? Remus said I'm to keep an eye on you; I could sleep by your hearth."

Gratitude flooded her and she nodded against his chest. She felt so much safer now than she had a mere four months ago, even if someone was trying to hurt her. At Heatherhall she had a staff. Here she had a family. She relaxed into Sirius' embrace and he held her more tightly. His arms were muscular but too thin, and she thought again that he needed someone to watch over him.

"Sirius, what happened to you and Jules?" she said. An instant too late she remembered--he'd been thrown into Azkaban.

Sirius stiffened and moved away. "What brought that up?" he asked, an edge to his voice.

It was too late to change the subject. "I just worry about you, that's all. You're not eating enough."

"Just like a woman," he said, relaxing fractionally. "Thinks every man needs someone to take care of him."

"God knows you haven't the sense to do it yourselves," she teased.

He shrugged and moved restlessly about the room. "I got sent to Azkaban, Jules got married, end of story. I quite like that Stanton chap; he's a good enough fellow." He ran one hand down his face and sighed. "Ah, I wouldn't have married Jules, anyway; we were both having a bit of fun, that's all. She knew it and I knew it. But I'll tell you who I still wonder about," he said, turning suddenly and looking at her with confidence. "It's Silverthorne I still wonder about."

Ah. There was a sticky subject. Esme's old friend, Slytherin Prefect Silverthorne. Rain nodded. "Mmm."

"Whatever became of Cress, do you know?"

Rain turned and began straightening papers on her desk. "Mm-hmm."

"What?" He came closer to peer at her. "Well, Rainy Day? Where is she?" At her hesitation he said, "She's not--"

"Dead? No," she replied reluctantly. She sighed. "All right, Sirius, she cursed your name and threw her inheritance to her brother and moved to America. I don't hear much from her these days."

"Ah." He turned away, sticking his hands in his pocket and blinking at a painting on her wall, of Heatherhall Manor. As the silence stretched uncomfortably, he put his head to one side and began to hum. After a few minutes he turned and smiled at her. It seemed a sharp smile, to cut himself on. "Well, Cress was never the forgive and forget type, was she? I know I'm not as good as Remus, but d'you fancy a game of chess with me before bed?"

He didn't fool her. But she knew he'd not say another thing about it. She really ought to be grading those essays on the important events in early Hogwarts history. But she knew a game of chess, whether he won or lost, would cheer him. So she agreed.

Later, when she was in bed, listening to the black dog's whuffling snores from the banked hearth, she thought of the emptiness life must present in Azkaban, the horrible price those thirteen years must have exacted from his soul. And she resolved to write a letter to Cressida Silverthorne very soon.

~*~

Thank whatever mercy God saved for him, he didn't have to go to Voldemort right away this time. When he could finally walk down past Hogsmeade and Apparate to the Riddle house, the Dark Lord was closeted with Nagini and a mysterious visitor. Pettigrew gestured patronizingly with his silver hand and spared Severus a smile.

"The Dark Lord is occupied at the moment, Severus. But Lucius, Angus, and I have been playing a quick game of poker while we wait. Perhaps you'll join us. If the stakes aren't too high for you," he added slyly.
Severus grimaced at him. "Pleased to," he said shortly. "I've dealt in higher stakes than you'll ever see, Pettigrew."

The rat's face grew thoughtful for a moment, the smile slipping. "No, I don't think you have, Severus," he said softly. As Severus blinked, he switched back to jovial. "Don't worry. It's knut-ante tonight. This way." He ushered him into the small drawing room, where the others were already seated about a table.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Ah, Severus deigns to join us, for a change."

Severus nodded archly at him. "I would have thought you of all people would understand my situation, Lucius. It can't be easy to drop everything at the Ministry and Disapparate. Surely someone even in that group of blind fools would have to see the connection, sooner or later." He swept his robes out of the way and sat down across from Lucius. MacNair dealt him in with barely a flickered glance at him.

A pair of jacks. Not terrible. They made faces at him as he watched Peter ante up and take his cards. The rat grimaced slightly, surprising Severus; he'd always been a better poker player than chess. There were times Peter had even managed to outbluff him.

Lucius took two cards, and Severus was forced to revise his assumptions as MacNair took two as well. Usually when one played poker with Lucius Malfoy, it was five-card stud. Why had he switched to draw? Severus took three cards, keeping only the jacks. When he looked at the cards, a queen winked bawdily at him from behind a ten and a three. Ah, so these were MacNair's cards. He clenched his teeth for no reason and met Lucius' gaze.

"What news from Hogwarts, Severus?" Lucius asked, his voice casual. "I understand Peter's curse on that History of Magic professor wasn't quite as effective as could have been hoped."

Peter sucked in a breath, and without looking at him, Severus said, "Was it Peter? I wondered. I'll see your bet and raise you a knut."

Lucius raised another three knuts without bothering to glance at his cards. "You mean you didn't know ahead of time? Dear me, Severus, did you displease the Master?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Severus said dryly.

MacNair folded. Severus called. Lucius met Severus' eyes without changing his expression, but when Peter showed them a full house, Lucius gritted his teeth and glared. Severus allowed himself to chuckle, earning another glare from Lucius and a startled expression from Peter.

"It's refreshing to see someone get the better of you, Lucius," Severus remarked, leaning back in his chair. "Particularly someone like Peter." Peter collected his winning and anted up, then gathered the cards and began to shuffle them expertly. "One thing you should remember," Severus added as Lucius continued to glower at him, "Peter's always had an excellent poker face; he needed one, with his situation." He tipped an imaginary hat in Peter's direction, and the little rat's mouth dropped open.

Lucius was eyeing him speculatively. "You never did answer my question, Snape," he said. His voice was deceptively light, belying the hawk's piercing gaze he fixed on Severus.

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Nothing of real importance has happened at Hogwarts recently, Lucius. I was forced to sit through a meeting with Black and the werewolf, but the old fool won't tell me where Black hides when he's not strutting around the headmaster's office." Mentally he apologized to Dumbledore for the 'old fool'.

"Mm. And Lady McGonagall wasn't involved?"

"You don't know? She wasn't. I thought you would have Draco watching her." Severus took two cards and bit his tongue as the Jack mooned him. Definitely MacNair's deck.

"Draco is...strangely silent on the topic of the new professor. Though he has plenty to say about the werewolf." Lucius flashed a smile that was too full of teeth for Severus' comfort. "I understand Lupin is rather taken with the silly chit. And that you have been seen talking with both of them."

"I think if you ask, you'll find I've been seen talking with Vector and Sprout, too," Severus said, skating a thin line between sarcasm and contempt. "I am a professor, as are they." He raised the bet.

"Let us hope you have not suddenly begun having qualms about your allegiances," Lucius said, and raised.

"On that you need have no fear," Severus said, raising again. Peter and MacNair folded.

"You know how the Dark Lord would hate to lose such a valuable resource within Hogwarts," Lucius said, adding a sickle to the pot.

"Indeed." Severus raised again.

With a look of faint disgust, Lucius called and turned over two pair, queens high.

"Bluffing, Lucius?" Severus said archly as he laid down his straight flush.

The look Lucius gave him was pure unadulterated hatred. He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment Voldemort's high cold voice summoned them to his side. Peter and MacNair jumped to obey, but Lucius and Severus both had images to uphold. They stood more slowly and walked towards Voldemort's study. As they reached the door, Lucius gripped Severus' elbow tightly enough to cut off the blood flow.

"Don't think I can't see through you, Severus," he hissed, and his eyes were icy. "You were seen in Hogsmeade with Katraina McGonagall, and you didn't look like you were trying to get information from her. Hogsmeade visit or no, it isn't wise to be seen getting so cozy with Dumbledore's cadre." His grip tightened. "Love hath made thee a tame snake."

Severus jerked his arm out of Lucius' grip and matched him stare for stare for a long moment. Then he strode in to attend their master.

Notes:
"I am not mad! I would to heaven I were! For then 'tis like I should forget myself!" is from King John by, of course, Shakespeare.
"Love hath made thee a tame snake," is also Shakespeare--As You Like It.
The Nepabractarus Curse is from Essayel's hysterical "Principia Paper" on Riddikulus. Go read it! Since I can't write humour, I admire all the more, those who can.
The art for this chapter, of Severus and Sirius shaking hands, is also by Essayel (she is one of my favourite people, as if you didn't already know that!)

These Deep Solitudes--6-7

Title: These Deep Solitudes--Chapters 6-7
Author name: Carfiniel
Author email: carfiniel@yahoo.com
Rating: PG-13

Summary: Rain's teaching, and words, are having an effect on Draco Malfoy, and he doesn't like it one bit! He finds himself doing things like warning Hermione Granger. Or is he threatening her? Remus learns the hard way that acceptance is something that should be reciprocated, not simply recieved. And Snape makes contact with the slimy rat behind the small attacks.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author notes: I stole some words from C.S. Lewis. Also Frank Herbert and Sean Bean. See if you recognize them.

Chapter Six - Heart's Desire

"Evil is uncertain in the same degree as good, and for the reason that we ought not to hope too securely, we ought not to fear with too much dejection."

-- Samuel Johnson

Remus was grateful for the strong coffee served with his breakfast the next morning. It did make him feel more human, he thought wryly. Thank God he had the first lesson of the day free. That triggered a pang of guilt; he should apologize to Rain. He had spent much of the previous night reading all he could about the lamia; he had extinguished the candles only an hour before dawn, and this morning he had felt it would be easier to drag a Hungarian Horntail out of bed than it had himself.

Fighting back yawns, he stumbled off towards a lesson on kelpies. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were waiting for him. Orla Quirke and Dennis Creavey were sitting eagerly in the front row, chattering excitedly.

"I thought he was going to pop his cork when I dropped my newt's eye in before the slug scales," Dennis was saying as Remus took their graded quizzes out of his briefcase.

"He was crankier than usual," Orla agreed. "He looked like he didn't sleep last night or something. But, Dennis, if you'd paid attention in the lecture instead of drawing pictures of Padma Patil, you would have known--"

"All right, all right," Dennis said amiably. "So I messed it up. There was no need for thirty points off Gryffindor, was there?"

Remus bit back a grin as he called the class to order, but he made a mental note to find out why Snape was crankier than usual. He hated having anything to do with Snape, especially since the Slytherin's little slip of the tongue that had let Remus' secret out two years ago. Still, Snape had agreed to brew the Wolfsbane Potion again this year, so perhaps he was resigned to working together.

At the lunch break, Remus let the sixth year Hufflepuffs go without assigning homework and headed down to Snape's dungeon office. No one answered his knock, and there was no light visible under the door. After making sure the Potions classroom was empty, he headed back up to the Great Hall. Snape was probably at lunch.

But the Head Table was noticeably empty of both Snape and Rain. He sighed. Well, Snape apparently didn't want to be found, and since Remus was none too eager to find him in the first place, he was more than happy to leave off looking. Rain, however, was probably still captive in the hospital wing. It was time for that apology.

As he passed by the Gryffindor table he heard Ron say Rain's name. He slowed down to listen. "She even likes the Cannons!" the redhead finished, enthusiastically.

"I'm surprised you like someone who seems to get on so well with Snape," his sister replied. Remus wondered if she had recovered from her fear of exposure. He knew Rain had spoken with her.

"Ugh!" Ron said. "Well, I reckon even he has to be right sometimes."

Remus chuckled as he passed out of hearing. Rain had definitely made an impression on the youngest Weasley boy. Of course she was popular with the Ravenclaws. He wondered what the Slytherins thought of her.

Madam Pomfrey was rather stiff with him when she told him Rain had gone out for a while. "I didn't think it was a good idea, but most of the burns had healed. Her eyes worry him, of course, but he wanted to see how she reacted to sunlight."

"The headmaster came to get her, then?" Remus asked.

Pomfrey blinked, then lifted an eyebrow. "The headmaster? Oh, no, Professor. I spoke of Severus."

After a moment he closed his mouth. He felt rather like he had the night Padfoot and Moony had thought it would be fun to tease a hedgehog, and ended up with both prickles and flea bites. "Oh," he said after a long time. "I--Oh." He turned to go, then looked over his shoulder. "Er, thank you, Poppy."

She softened slightly. "You're welcome, dear. I believe they were going to the courtyard. You might look for them there."

True, he had been looking for them both, but not in a million years had he wanted to find them together. His feet took him to the courtyard without asking his permission. When he stepped out the door, however, they abruptly stopped moving. He felt a small body collide with his back, then a first year Hufflepuff went past him, squeaking, "'Scuse me, professor, sir!" He ignored the student and stared at the potions master and his patient.

Rain was sitting on a bench, her face tilted up towards the sky. Seated next to her, his shoulders almost touching hers, was Snape. He was looking up, too, his eyes apparently fixed on the astronomy tower. He was smiling.

Ouch. Remus backed up. He had never seen Snape smile--at least, never unless that smile meant bad news for some hapless Gryffindor. Certainly he had never seen anything approaching happiness on the sour Slytherin's face. Yet in an unguarded moment with Rain, Snape was smiling.

Remus deserved this. He knew he deserved it. But he had to swallow hard to dislodge the lump in his throat as he shuffled back towards his office. She still loved him, didn't she? Surely she did.

~*~

Severus did not make Rain feel comfortable, ever, but he certainly did make her very conscious of being alive. He had surprised her by showing up just as Madam Pomfrey was taking her lunch tray, and demanding Pomfrey let her out for a walk.

"A walk, Severus?" Rain had asked dryly.

He didn't hesitate. "The treatments worked admirably on most of the burns. Before administering the cure, I'd like to see how your skin responds to sunlight."

"Will it make a difference in how you brew the cure?" she asked curiously.

Silence. Then, "Perhaps."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Professor Snape," Pomfrey said, her voice sharp. "People with lamia ancestry--"

"Are sensitive to sunlight, yes," he hissed. "Katraina, however, has chosen mortality, and has been taking the Sangrapura Potion for several weeks now. The traces of lamia blood in her veins have been...resting."

"Ah, so that would be why Solarus Tormente didn't kill her," Pomfrey said.

"Among other reasons," Rain put in archly. "Thank you for the reminder." She put aside the bedclothes, hoping she was fully covered, and stood up. Severus's arm manifested itself under her outstretched hand, and she accepted his graceful lead down the ward and out the door.

"That was deft," she said, appreciating the escape.

"It was not entirely for my own pleasure," Severus said, and his voice seemed less tense than it had in the infirmary. Rain noted the 'entirely' but chose to say nothing, though she allowed herself a tiny smile.

He had led her past the Great Hall, where most of Hogwarts's residents were employed at lunch, and out into the courtyard. Guiding her to a bench, he helped her get settled before sitting down next to her. She wondered if it were her imagination that he sat down very near; with a tiny shrug of her shoulders, she ascertained that it was not. For the past fifteen minutes he had been giving her a snide running commentary of the comings and goings of the students and faculty through the courtyard. This had proven particularly amusing and appalling when a small group of Slytherins--led by Pansy Parkinson--had encountered Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the Weasley Twins.

"Ah, young Miss Parkinson seems to have forgotten how to sneer. No, wait, there it is again. Potter's got his fists clenched; reminds me of that pretentious git of a father he had. Odd, isn't it, how he didn't know old Prongs but still turned out so much like him. Such a shame. Oh, now Weasley's ears are as red as his hair. Dear, dear, look at Miss Weasley--she's so pale her freckles are jumping. Ah, Master Crabbe is cracking his knuckles while Miss Bulstrode flexes her biceps. I believe Miss Granger is going to jump on Miss Parkinson. Potter!" His voice cracked sharply through the air. "Save it for the Quidditch Pitch. The Gryffindors unfairly outnumber the Slytherins. Five points from Gryffindor."

He chuckled nastily. "Hadn't noticed me here. Foolish children."

"Severus!" she protested, trying not to laugh. "You're impossible!"

"Thank you," he said smoothly.

Snickering, Rain turned her face up to the sun. She loved being outside, loved the pressure and heat of sunlight on her skin, but her face tingled, and she could feel her skin pinking as they sat there. She didn't want to admit it, since Severus had seemed so relaxed since they sat down. Still... He had forbidden her to take another dose of the Sangrapura Potion before coming out, saying it might interact badly with the potion for her eyes--or vice versa. After the strict warnings he had given her about the potency of the Sangrapura, she wasn't at all eager to try mixing it with anything. No alcohol, he had said when he gave her the first dose. God alone knows what it would do to you, but I think it's safe to say it would probably involve a great deal of writhing in agony. Not to mention nausea and possibly death. Please don't drink while you're taking this, Katraina.

It had been the please that caught her attention; after all, Severus had never been known to say please to anyone. She had swallowed against a sudden fear, and forced herself to smile tightly at him. "I don't drink anymore, Severus. I say I'm an alcoholic because the rule is, 'Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic'. But I'm recovering. Dry. For twelve years now." He hadn't looked at all abashed; he had merely levelled an unblinking black stare at her. She had matched him, and they probably would still be standing there, glowering at one another, had Minerva not come into the room and scorned them for behaving immaturely.

Next to her, Severus suddenly tensed; she could feel the change in his demeanor, so close were they sitting. "What is it?" she asked.

He was silent. Her mind flashed through several scenarios, from a glumbumble on her shoulder all the way to hordes of Death Eaters marching up from Hogsmeade.

"Severus?"

He sighed next to her and she relaxed slightly. "The wer--Lupin was there. He left."

She bit her lip against a twinge of regret, then shook her head. "He can jolly well apologize to me in front of you, if he's sorry," she said aloud.

Severus shifted. "Apologize for what?"

"I hadn't told him about my--condition. He figured it out, of course, once he knew it was Solarus Tormente. He--ah, shouted."

"You...hadn't told him?" Severus repeated, astonishment evident in his acerbic voice.

"Well, it isn't as if I had had the time. I only saw him again the day I came back."

"Back from where?"

"Not from anywhere, Severus--to. Back to Hogwarts."

"You found out about the lamia years ago," he said slowly. "You said you'd been looking for a cure for years."

"Yes, and I wish I'd thought to ask you for help years ago. I knew you were potions master. I should have--"

"But Lupin--"

She twigged suddenly to what he was getting at. "Severus, before I came back to Hogwarts this August, Remus and I hadn't spoken for fourteen years. After Lily and James--he left. And I started drinking."

The silence next to her was so profound she could feel all the way through her. Well, it was nice to know she still had the knack for astonishing Severus. She swung her feet gently and enjoyed the pressure of the sun on her face. Oh, she was going to have such a sunburn if they didn't go back inside soon!

"Fourteen years," Severus said faintly.

Inside the school a bell sounded. He jumped and then swore. "I have fifth years. Come, I'll escort you back to the infirmary. I must get to the dungeon before Master MacMillan and Miss Abbott blow it up."

Good, he'd got his sarcasm back. Still, she wondered at the depth of his reaction to her statement. Dumbledore had hinted... But no, surely he wouldn't... She was given even more to think about when Severus deposited her at Madam Pomfrey's door, placing a light kiss on her hand.

~*~

When Remus had dismissed his final lesson, a school owl fluttered into his classroom. The note was terse, written in a spiky Edwardian script. The restoration potion will be ready just before sundown. Dumbledore thought you should know. I, the note did not say, could not have cared less--though the handwriting plainly stated it. Remus grimaced and dropped the note into his briefcase, then dusted his hand against his robes. He wouldn't put it past Snape to coat the paper with silver dust. He finished gathering his things and was about to leave when a tiny owl came zipping in, hooting excitedly. It zoomed energetically about his head until he absently cast a Petrificus at it.

Dear Church. You probably won't remember me, but we met once this summer, at the top of the moving staircase behind the gargoyle. I work for Gringotts, and have been recently working on an account for a couple living in Godric's Hollow. I'm sorry for being so circumspect, but one is never sure, these days, if an owl will arrive precisely where he is meant to. This one is a loan; your reply, if you have one, must be sent by another owl, who is friendly with this one. I have news for Flame. Please meet me for a full report. Horus.

Remus frowned thoughtfully at the parchment. It had obviously been penned by a Phoenician--Flame was one of Dumbledore's codenames, and Remus had been jokingly dubbed Church by Frank Clearwater, whose Muggle wife had an obsession with the Muggle Prime Minister Churchill; he needed to remember to loan a copy of The Defiant Muggle to Mrs Clearwater. But who was Horus?

He folded the parchment several times and thrust it into his pocket, then headed for his rooms to mull it over. Godric's Hollow was where Lily and James had lived--and died--of course, but he wasn't aware of another important couple living there. Or perhaps Horus meant it involved Lily and James's work, somehow. He--or she--worked for Gringotts. He cast his mind over several Phoenicians, coming up blank. Many of them were Aurors or ex-Aurors, with a solitary Unspeakable, but there were just as many who had more mundane lines of work. Though working for Gringotts didn't necessarily mean mundane...of course! That curse-breaker who wore a devil-may-care grin and that horrid dragonskin fedora. He grinned. Bill Weasley.

Arthur had said Bill was going under cover; Remus had nearly forgotten, what with the excitement of the start of term. He wondered what information Bill Weasley could have for Dumbledore, and why he would be sending it to Remus. Oh, bugger. He spun on his heel and hurried back to his office. That crazy ickle owl was still lying on his desk.

"Finite Incantatem!" Remus said, and the creature zoomed happily up to collide with his nose. Resisting the urge to eat the small creature--damn that waxing gibbous moon anyway--he plucked it out of the air and held it firmly as he headed towards the Great Hall. The exhausting little bird would belong to one of the Weasleys, which meant either another Weasley owl or Harry's would be the redelivery.

The buzz from the Slytherin table seemed more unruly than usual. Remus blinked several times and scanned the Great Hall. Ah, that would be why. Draco Malfoy was speaking earnestly with Hermione Granger. Oddly, although she looked distrustful, she did not seem angry. But no wonder the Slytherins were upset--and Snape wasn't around to be a quelling presence.

As Remus looked on, Hermione's expression went from distrust to concern to open horror. Finally she settled on fury. Remus had just started towards her when she cried, "You slimy git! You're worse than your father!"

"Just thought you ought to know, Mudblood," Malfoy drawled, his voice loud in the hush that had followed her outburst. "Your kind will be first. No need to insult my family, as it's purer than you could ever hope to be." He chuckled nastily. "Ooh, but maybe the Weasel will defend you."

Hermione and Remus apparently noticed Ron at the same time. Red-faced, he was storming over from the Gryffindor table. Hermione shot a last, furious glance at Malfoy, then turned her back on him and grabbed Ron's arm. "Ron, no!" she exclaimed. He looked down at her and she said a few words Remus couldn't hear. Ron nodded shortly and--reluctantly, Remus thought--followed her back to the Gryffindor table.

The students gradually settled back into silence, and Remus took his seat at the head table, near Professor Vector. She looked up to smile briefly at him, then cast a longing look back at her book.

"Don't let me interrupt," he said, and her smile gained some warmth. She returned to her reading. Left to entertain himself, Remus found himself thinking back on the Great Hall years ago, and a similar confrontation he had witnessed.

"Is this slimy git bothering you, Rainstorm?" Sirius's voice was loud and angry, and Remus turned from where he'd been about to check Peter's king.

The frozen tableau in front of him made him wish Sirius could learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes. Rain, her face three shades of scarlet, was staring at Sirius. At her side, Severus Snape had shrunk back from Sirius but still grasped Rain's upper arm in his skinny fingers. His eyes glittered and his mouth was twisted in a mocking smirk. Sirius's fists were clenched at his side, a muscle working in his jaw.

"Oh, don't do anything, Sirius," Remus breathed.

"It isn't as if he really cares," said Peter in a tone that was at once fond and knowing. "He won't look twice at her, but if Snape looks like he wants her, the fat lady has sung." Remus glanced at him, surprised by the echo of his own less-than-charitable thoughts. "I can see, Moony," Peter said. He looked rather sorry, too.

Remus nodded, but his reply was cut off by Rain's angry retort. "Why don't you mind your own bloody business, Black!" she said, scowling at him.

Remus snickered. Sirius wasn't used to hearing sass from Rain. Snape looked surprised, as well.

"He's a dodgy git, Rainstorm, and he doesn't have the class to talk to you. Ugh, can't you smell him?"

"Fine words, from someone who reeks of canines, Black," Snape hissed. "Someone ought to warn those pathetic fools who pass for your friends--if they spend too much time with you, people might think they're as stupid as you are." He sneered. "They already smell like shit."

Rain turned her furious glance on him and he subsided. Then she looked at Sirius for the finishing blow. "You want to keep a civil tongue, Black. You're obstreperous. Five points from Gryffindor. Now sod off and let me finish my conversation with Snape in peace.

"Perfessor Lupin?" He shook himself out of the past. Hagrid was holding out a dish. He took it, nodding his thanks. "Have yeh heard abou' Snape? He's been in a right bad mood today, but Harry and Ron said they saw 'im sitting in the courtyard wi' Rain!"

Remus lost his appetite. He wondered if there were any way to politely tell Hagrid to shove off, but instead he looked up and up to meet Hagrid's scrutiny with a bland expression. "Don't you remember, Hagrid? Rain and Severus were friends back in school."

Hagrid chuckled. "Yeh, never woulda believed it, but she always managed to bring out the best in ever'body. Just like her sister, that one. Even made old Snape act human sometimes."

"I suppose it's because Severus doesn't gladly suffer a fool, and Rain is probably the least foolish person he knows."

"I'd put it mostly to 'er persistence," Hagrid said. He seemed to be attempting to send Remus a psychic message. Resorting to the vague smile that had become his best defense, Remus said, "Well, Hagrid, I'm afraid I should be going. I have an appointment with the headmaster."

"Oh, go on, go on! Wouldn' want to keep the headmaster waiting! Great man, Dumbledore..."

Remus slipped off to the hospital wing before Hagrid could tell him again the story of Buckbeak's escape.

~*~

Draco Malfoy was feeling discontented. He sank lower in his tall wooden chair and put his elbows on the arms. The chair resembled a throne, which he felt was appropriate for the self-appointed Prince of Slytherin. None of the others challenged his ownership of that chair, not anymore. After a few well-placed surprise curses, he had in his third year eliminated all other claims to that throne. Even the sixth and seventh years kept clear of his wrath. Now, as a prefect, his claim could not be challenged.

Tonight this gave him no pleasure. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and glared broodingly through them at the flickering fire. He did not understand the source of this...restlessness.

Anger he recognized. Hatred, greed, cruelty, condescension--all these he knew and welcomed. But this--this uncertainty that burned his mind--this he did not know, and it frightened him.

Oh, yes, 'frightened'. He knew it, though he would rather have cut off his own hand than admit it. It was the first time he had ever admitted fear, even to himself. Fear was the mind-killer.

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

Fear was the mind-killer; it paralyzed your cunning and weakened resolve.

Until fifth year, his ambition, his resolve, had been bent on one thing: to be a Prince among Slytherins, a Malfoy's Malfoy, and in so doing to make his father proud. Now she seemed to think there were other ways. That he had a choice.
Snarling at no one, he stood up and swept his robes about him, an conscious imitation of the other hero in his life. Glowering at all and sundry, he swept--well, attempted to sweep--out of the Slytherin Dungeon and off down the dark halls. He had spoken to the Mudblood at supper. Voluntarily touched her--yech, his hand still felt it--and looked into the dirty brown eyes. "They'll act this year, Mudblood," he'd told her. He told himself he was threatening, not warning, her. Part of him believed it. "Don't ever relax. 'Constant vigilance' as our favourite Death Eater used to say. He did us all a favour." There, that sounded better.

And she had had the audacity to call him a slimy git.

He didn't fear any Weasley, didn't fear Potter, though he knew the stupid Gryffindor would like to think so. He stood his ground when the redheaded pillock approached. He could take care of himself. Crabbe and Goyle were mostly for show; it was nice never to have to get your hands dirty.

But the Mudblood had told the Weasel it wasn't worth the trouble. That he, Draco, was to be pitied. Pitied by a Mudblood! He swallowed his suddenly fury and blinked slowly at her. Never let your emotion control you, that was what his father had taught him. He who angers you conquers you, Lucius had said a hundred times.

Draco stumbled and then cursed at himself. Pay attention, you fool! Quit thinking about Mudbloods! They're not worthy of your notice! He looked around him. His feet had carried him, while his mind was occupied, to a well-lit corridor lined with suits of armour. As he set off down the hall, each suit raised its sword in a swift salute. Strange, he thought, why don't I remember seeing this place before?

And that horrible prat Potter! Might as well call him the Boy Who Slummed. Hanging out with Mudbloods and Weasleys. Part of Draco's deep-seated hatred of Potter was because the Hero of Gryffindor thought he could best the Prince of Slytherin. And a part of his hatred went back to a day four years ago, when Draco had offered an alliance and that alliance had been spurned.

Draco's memory twinged as though there were something he should remember. He dismissed it with a sniff. No one refused a Malfoy! In the wizarding world, to set yourself against a Malfoy was to commit political and social suicide. Oh, yes, Potter was going the way of his parents.

Draco climbed the narrow steps in front of him automatically, slinking around the inner column as they spiralled upwards. Spending forty-eight hours with Harry Potter was Draco's idea of the Ninth Level of Hell--and yet, somehow, it had happened. He scowled. He wished he could remember what had happened. There had been a woman there--Angelica? Andromeda?--and cats. He liked cats. There had been a small, slinky Siamese that took to him, sitting just out of arm's reach, staring up at him, tip of its tail twitching. And he--

The black wall slammed down again. That was all. That was the most he could remember. The stairway ended abruptly, and he looked around. He was on a small landing, with a wooden door directly facing him. Gingerly he lifted the latch on the door. It didn't open. Pulling out his wand, he whispered, "Alohamora!" and it swung gently inward.

Before him was an empty room--empty, save shadows, and a large mirror at the opposite end. He walked slowly towards it. There were carvings around the edge, words, but none he knew: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. He studied it for a few moments, then shrugged and looked in the mirror, expecting to see a tall, lithe blond teenager, with brooding silver eyes.

In a way, he did. He was standing there, but he wasn't smirking, and behind him, smiling down at him, were Professors Snape, Dumbledore, and Rain.

He leaped back, turning--but no one was there. He spun again and looked, and there they were. Snape was very, very pale, but he also looked very, very proud...of Draco? His eyes went back to the carvings, and by chance they fell on the last word first. "No," he muttered as their meaning sank in. "No."

I show not your face but your heart's desire.

~*~

In the infirmary, Dumbledore looked suddenly distant. "Well, well," he said softly, smiling into his beard. To Severus it seemed a very satisfied smile. "Will wonders never cease."

Severus and Remus exchanged identical looks of puzzlement as the headmaster straightened. "Ladies, gentlemen, you will please excuse me." And with that he crossed the room in three long strides and was gone, leaving Pomfrey, Lupin, and Severus to stare after him.

"Headmaster?" Rain said. "Severus, what happened?"

"He left," Severus replied, glancing at Lupin. What a strange sensation, to be the one to whom Rain turned for answers, even with the werewolf present. Snape bit his tongue. She hated that; she had chided him on more than one occasion, for using that word. Lupin's gold eyes seemed more sad than hostile as he gazed back at him. Could it be that he believed he had lost her?

Snape turned away, back towards the now-empty cauldron and the potion cooling in vials on the table. No. Even if she wanted to choose him, he could not allow it. He would drive her away before he let that happen. It was true that he hated Remus bitterly for loving her, but even the werewolf would do her less harm than Snape the turncoat.

"Should we wait for him to come back?" Lupin was asking.

Snape sneered at him, relieved to have a reason. "Brilliant idea, Lupin! Why don't you hold up the sunset, as the potion has to be administered in the light of the sun, when neither sun nor stars are in the sky?"

Lupin actually flinched from Snape's caustic reply. Severus bit back a triumphant smirk and waited for an angry retort.

"Very well, Severus," Lupin said mildly, spoiling the argument. "I had forgotten about that."

"Yet another reason why I am the potions master, and you are not!" Severus hissed. The sun was visible on the cusp of the horizon. He went to Rain and touched her hand. "Katraina," he said, in another tone entirely, "it is nearly time. Come to the window." She gripped his hand in strong fingers which, he noted, were trembling. "Don't be afraid," he whispered as she slid off the bed and he guided her to the window seat. "I took special care with this potion."
She smiled at him and he sighed. God, how he hated her for making him love her! "I know," she said. "You were here supervising it every free moment you had."

Severus glanced at Lupin. Yes, that was definitely jealousy that had flickered across the other man's face. Sending him a sarcastic smile, Severus unstoppered the bottle. "This will feel very cold," he cautioned Rain. "Take off the bandage."

As soon as she obeyed, he dashed the contents of the bottle in her face. When it hit her, she shivered and cried out, but he could see a blue glow as the potion spread across her skin, pooled in her eyes, and ran like tears down her cheeks. Her reddened skin softened and faded back to porcelain, pus-filled blistered dried up, and her eyes cleared.

He could see the moment she began to see again: a soft light came into her green eyes, and they fixed on his face. She smiled again, and lifted a hand to his cheek and held it there a long time.

"Severus," she said finally. "You are so different when you smile."

He wished instantly that she hadn't said it. The anger and resentment inspired by her tenderness flared up again. But he masked it, and boldly took her into his arms and pulled her to him. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his chest.

"Thank you," she said, her voice muffled. "Thank you so much."

He did not look up, even when a soft snick from the door told him Lupin and Pomfrey had gone.

~*~

"Does the Mirror of Erised displease you, Mr Malfoy? I have never seen it do so to any living man."

The soft voice made him turn again, and he stared as the headmaster slowly appeared next to him. "You can't Apparate or Disapparate in Hogwarts," he said automatically, and Dumbledore chuckled.

"There are many ways of being invisible, Mr Malfoy, and you did not answer my question."

"Because it's none of your business what my heart's deepest desire is!" he snapped. Doddering old fool, who did he think he was?

To his surprise, Dumbledore grinned delightedly. "Ah, you worked that out, did you? Very well done, Draco. Harry needed a hint."

He couldn't suppress the flash of satisfaction that those words inspired. To hide it he sneered at the headmaster. "Yes, well, that's no surprise, is it? He probably would have been expelled his first year if it weren't for his Mudblood girlfriend."

Dumbledore's expression did not change, but Draco immediately regretted having called her that. "None of us can do without friends, Draco," Dumbledore said quietly. "Do you remember that, when twilight falls around you, morning's son. Choose your friends carefully." He smiled then, his eyes twinkling in the dim light.

"A Malfoy has no friends," Draco snarled. "A Malfoy needs no friends."

"Ah," said the headmaster, and he turned as if to go.

"Snape!" Draco blurted suddenly, and stared at Dumbledore in astonishment, since he could not stare so at himself. "Snape and Rain and you!" Then he found himself abruptly terrified, and before Dumbledore could speak, he had bolted for the door.

He clattered down several turnings of the stairs, then chose at random an exit from them. This hall was lined with portraits of men and women dressed in robes of silvery grey and deep whispery green. These portraits did not move, but nonetheless their gaze weighed heavily on him so that he slowed to a walk. At first the faces looked kind and wise, but then they became solemn faces. When he had gone a little further, he found faces that seemed more familiar: the faces here looked very strong and proud and happy, but they looked cruel. A little further on they looked crueler. Further on again, they were still cruel but they were no longer happy. They were even despairing faces: as if the people they belonged to had done dreadful things and also suffered dreadful things.

The last figure of all was the most interesting--a woman even more richly dressed than the others, very tall, with a look of such fierceness and pride that it took his breath away. Draco paused, his heart thumping wildly, to stare at her. Suddenly her eyes moved and she stared straight into his eyes. He jumped backwards and then dashed the few remaining steps to the far end of the hall. Scrabbling at the door handle, he burst through it and found himself in the familiar safety of the library. He gave a small sob of relief and ignored the seventh year Ravenclaw who glared and shushed him. After a moment he straightened, dusted off his robes, and headed for the dungeon.

But even when he was ensconced once more in his Slytherin throne, the words haunted him.

Your heart's desire.

A quick note on quotes:

"He who angers you conquers you," is attributed to Elizabeth Kenny.

"Fear is the mind-killer....Only I will remain...." is a Bene Gesserit litany against fear, from Frank Herbert's Dune.

"A Malfoy has no friends. A Malfoy needs no friends." My own little tribute to the beautiful lines spoken by Sean Bean (*sigh!*) in Fellowship.

The hall lined with portraits of proud, cruel, despairing people is taken from The Magician's Nephew by C.S. Lewis.

Chapter Seven - Vide Vocaro

"Now entertain conjecture of a time
When creeping murmur and the poring dark
Fills the wide vessel of the universe."

-- Henry V 4.0.1-3

Remus was out of favour. Between teaching Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, he kept kicking himself for his romantic ineptitude. He had spent the day drafting apologies to Rain, dismissing each in turn as too pompous, too craven, too loquacious, or too supercilious. He had seen Harry and Hermione giving him strange looks as he lectured halfheartedly on primitive deflective spells. Somehow he had dragged himself through each lesson, skipping lunch and avoiding the Great Hall at dinner.

Ensconced in his office, he busied himself with meaningless tasks that occupied his hands but, unfortunately, left his mind free to roam. He felt powerless as he watched his cherished hopes of a future with Rain spiral down the drain with the water from his grindylow tank. He had been foolish, had lashed out at her when she was vulnerable, and he had thrown away his chance. She had turned to Snape. Snape! He gave the tank an extra-hard polish, scowling ferociously. If it had been Sirius, he could have understood, could even have forgiven her. If it had been Sirius, he could have snarled "Back off, dog boy," and known he would get away with it. But Snape!

Growling, Remus tossed his rag into the dustbin and stalked across his office. He was such a stupid prat! He conveniently ignored the memory, persistent as a hungry cat, of the moonlit walk in Hunter's Combe, the tears in Rain's eyes as she told him she'd loved him for twenty years. No, perhaps she had loved him, or thought she loved him until he made an ass of himself over her secret. And Snape had known already, and accepted her--loved her.

Oh yes, Remus could see it, even if Rain couldn't. No one had ever imagined Snape could love anything, but Rain had always given him more credit than that, and Remus could see now the effects of the years of her belief in the Potions Master. Snape would hurt her. Might even have to betray her in order to bring Voldemort down. And he would, if he had to. Slytherins used any means to achieve their ends, and Severus Snape was all Slytherin.

Then again, Rain had lived with Slytherins half her life. She could handle Snape--probably the only person in the world who could, besides Albus Dumbledore. He wondered what Dumbledore thought of the whole affair. He would have seen the potential there; he knew more about what went on in this school than anyone, and he knew Snape better than anyone. Remus clenched his teeth. He had promised to help Dumbledore protect her, and he would. He still loved her, no matter how angry she was with him. No matter if she was finished with him.

Remus was a tidy man by nature, but his fevered search for references on lamia had left his volumes on dark creatures scattered across every horizontal surface in his office. He began collecting the books and stacking them haphazardly in preparation for replacing them in order on the shelves. Before he had finished, however, he was startled by a knock on the door. "Come in," he called, and placed the last armful of books on his desk. He picked up Hogwarts: A History and turned to greet his caller. When he saw who it was, he dropped the book.

"You owe me an apology," she said in a low voice.

He clenched his teeth, took a deep breath, and nodded. "You're right," he said. "Again. I shouldn't have been angry with you for not telling me. I--Dumbledore made me see that--" He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and started again. "I was going to tell you that I'm a werewolf, you know. Before I left school, I mean. At least, I planned to. I--I know how hard it is to divulge a secret like that to--to someone you care about." He gulped and took his hands out of his pockets again. "To someone you love."

To his surprise, she crossed the room and took his hands in hers. "I'm sorry, too," she said. "Sorry that I hadn't figured out how to tell you yet. Sorry that I said what I did...about leaving."

"You were right," he protested, but she shook her head.

"It doesn't matter if I was right. I said it, knowing it would hurt you. I--You know what a horrid temper I have. It's no excuse, but--well, you know what you're getting yourself into."

He was startled into a laugh. "Why did you come to me?" he said. "I would have made me suffer for a bit yet."

She lifted one shoulder in a tiny shrug. "Funny, isn't it? I thought love meant never having to say you're sorry."

"No," he said, smiling. "Love means always having to say you're sorry. And I am most sorry, Rainy Day."

"Then love must also mean always being forgiven."

He bent his head and kissed her hesitantly, amazed at his own daring, and was gratified when Rain put her arms around him and pulled him closer. She kissed him with a vehemence that surprised him, until she pulled back and said, "Don't give up on me, Remus. Don't ever give up on me, and I won't give up on you."

"How do you read my mind like this?" he whispered, and she leaned back further, smiling impishly. "I use my powerful Ravenclaw intuition," she replied. "Or maybe it's just a woman's particular magic."

He answered her with another kiss, and for several minutes they abandoned words for a conversation of a different sort. But finally she pulled away with a regretful sigh. "I'll need your help, Remus," she said, and her eyes were troubled again. She sounded strangely uncertain. "I have to find out who did this. They know what I am. Maybe--maybe they knew Esme was lamia, too. And my mother. Maybe they're the ones who had her killed."

That thought hadn't occurred to him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed the top of her head. "That job, I'm afraid, like the one that restored your sight, has gone to Severus."

She looked up at him in surprise, and he smiled crookedly at her. "The headmaster seems to think the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor should concentrate on defending you."

She smiled. "My white knight."

He felt a little sad. "Grey, I'm afraid, Rain. Grey, and a little weary and ragged about the edges. But yours, most assuredly. Always yours."

~*~

For once Severus was glad to see Peter Pettigrew. Usually the sight of the ratty little man made Severus's fingers curl with the urge to throttle him--a rare desire in itself, since he much preferred poison over physical violence. Usually Pettigrew turned his stomach with the hypocrisy of his obsequious fawning to Voldemort and the attempts he made at high-handed superiority over the other Death Eaters. Usually.

This time, Pettigrew had met Severus alone, at the Three Broomsticks, in disguise, and he was obviously afraid. Why shouldn't he be? With one well-timed shout in the crowded pub, Severus could undo the illusion of his death. Severus's mouth twisted bitterly; Pettigrew ought to know that as long as his disguise left Sirius Black a fugitive, Severus would help him maintain it.

"Why am I here, Wormtail?" he hissed, interrupting Pettigrew's inane nattering.

"P-please, S-Se-Severus," the plump man whined. "I'm trying to te--"

"You're a fool," Severus said suddenly, leaning over the table. "A fool to ever abandon Potter and his crowd. They used you, but at least they pitied you, as well. Voldemort knows no pity. He'll use you up, and then dispose of you as he did so many others. So many of his more faithful followers." He leaned back in his chair, pleased to see he had rattled the other--man? Hardly a man. A rat.

The rat was, at this moment, extremely pale. He reached under the hood of his cloak to wipe his forehead. He was breathing very rapidly. "S-Severus, you have to help me!" he bleated.

"Help you do what?"

"Protect me...protect me from Remus. He'll find out, and he'll hate me."

"News flash," Severus sneered. "He already hates you, Peter. For such a small, impotent little rat, you certainly managed to ruin more than your share of lives."

"But you don't know Remus," Pettigrew replied, his stutter easing. "He'll take any t-treatment he's given; he thinks he deserves it, by being a werewolf. B-but if you hurt his f-friends--"

Snape folded his arms across his chest. "Perhaps you should explain to me what you've done," he suggested in a friendly tone.

"It was only a little curse." Pettig