These Deep Solitudes

Chapter Ten - Strange Currencies

Half our standards come from our first masters, and the other half from our first loves.

- George Santayana

On his way home, Remus stopped briefly in Abergavenny to catch up with one of Dumbledore's information sources--a woman who, incidentally, was another of Sirius' ex-girlfriends. Sally was kind enough to feed and shelter him for a night, and midway through dinner, Bill Weasley arrived.

He grinned at the look on Remus' face and said, "You said you were going to be in Wales. I sent a message to Hogwarts, and discovered that you wouldn't be able to resist a stopover with Sally." He grinned as she cuffed him lightly on the shoulder, then offered him a cup of coffee. "Thanks," he said, and drained it at one go. "What a week!" he said with relish. "This secret agent life agrees with me."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. "Arabella wanted me to tell you to keep an eye on that Draco Malfoy. She said he's the most complicated boy she's ever met, and she expects him to fly apart any day now."

Remus frowned. "How does Arabella know Draco?"

Bill's grin widened. "Well, that would be the two days he spent with her and Harry in Godric's Hollow. Not that he remembers it...exactly." He winked at Sally, who raised an eyebrow and handed him his refilled coffee cup.

"Arabella abducted Draco Malfoy?" Remus said, wondering if he was having auditory hallucinations. He blinked.

"Er, not exactly," Bill said, and his expression sobered. "Look, I can't go into it all right now, Remus. Understand this is a sensitive situation. But she said it was important for you to get that message. I gather Rain is supposed to be working on him?"

"Yes. Much as she did Severus."

"Hm. Do you trust him?"

"Draco?"

Bill rolled his eyes. "No, not Draco! Severus."

Remus sighed, experiencing an extreme feeling of deja vu. "Yes. Dumbledore trusts him, and I've no reason to doubt Dumbledore's judgment. Besides, he and Rain have renewed their friendship, and she trusts him whole-heartedly."

"You've no reason to doubt Dumbledore's judgment," Bill said pensively. He glanced at Sally, then said, "Remus, Dumbledore allowed a Death Eater access to the Hogwarts students all year last year. The year before, he nearly got Harry kissed by Dementors. The year before that--"

"I didn't say he was infallible," Remus protested. "But certainly on the matter of Severus Snape, I have no doubt that he is truly with us."

Bill nodded. "All right, you've worked with the man. I'll take your word on it. But in the meantime, keep an eye on Malfoy. Oh, and--" He pulled a sheaf of parchment out of an inside pocket. "Take these to Sirius."

"Sirius?"

Bill nodded. "They'll interest him more than anyone. And he can share the pertinent information with the other Phoenicians." He drained his coffee cup again and stood up. "Well, I'll be off, then. Got to get back to Godric's Hollow before Mundungus buys illegal dragon's blood on the black market or something. Thanks, Sally." With a soft pop, he Disapparated.

Remus and Sally looked at each other for a long minute, before Sally finally grinned and shook her head. "Well, that's Bill for you. Want another fillup, Remus?"

"Thank you," he said, relinquishing his cup. As she poured, he reflected that Sirius' ex-girlfriends should, by rights, hate him and everything to do with him. As it was, however, most of them were extension members of the Order--willing to do whatever they could to aid Dumbledore. Sally was no exception.

An almighty crash from upstairs made him jump. It was followed quickly by a small voice shrieking, "Grimalkin's after my hamster!" Sally never wavered; she sighed and put the coffee pot back on the warmer.

"Excuse me, Remus. I'd best stop Grim," she said. Then she paused and looked at him wryly. "If Sirius is ever passing this way..."

"I'll tell him to stop by," he said.

Remus was hungry and dirty and hadn't slept for nearly twenty-four hours when he returned to Hogwarts from Wales. His meeting with Dumbledore lasted until well past midnight. When he finally reached his rooms, he was surprised to find Harry sitting on the hallway floor, leaning against the wall. "Harry? Is something wrong?"

The boy lifted his head from his arms. His hair was more rumpled than usual, and he blinked sleepily at him. "Oh, Professor Lupin. Hermione said she'd seen you. Hedwig had a message for you." He pulled out a folded parchment from his pocket and held it out.

"Thank you, Harry." He took the letter and offered him a hand, but the boy struggled to his feet unaided. As he turned to go, Remus called after him. "Harry? Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"

Harry turned back, surprise and pleasure mixing on his face. "Thanks, Professor."

Remus led the way into his office and began fixing tea. "How have things been going here while I was away?"

"The same," Harry said. "Ron got hurt in our match against Hufflepuff, but he saved the game." He grinned as Remus handed him a cup. "He got an earful from Hermione about it, though."

Remus hid a grin. "I see. And how did Ron take that?"

"With a small amount of patience and a lot of eye-rolling and blushing."

Remus chuckled. "And what about you? No injuries?"

Harry shook his head. "I almost lost the game for us. Got distracted. It's a good thing Ron was there."

"You two having any trouble learning to work together on the pitch?"

Harry shook his head again, smiling widely. "He's a really confident player. I think he makes all of us better."

Remus smiled. Harry and Ron's relationship reminded him of the friendship between James and Sirius. In both cases, either friend would gladly give his life for the other. In both cases, the friendship was more than the sum of the parts. And in both cases, bringing a woman into that relationship--Lily or Hermione--had only changed the dynamic for the better.

"You should tell him that," Remus advised, sipping at his tea.

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I should. Thanks, Professor." He stood up. "I'd better get to bed."

"You're out past curfew," Remus observed. "Shall I walk with you to Gryffindor Tower, so you don't get in trouble?"

Harry's grin was full of mischief and delight--James' grin. "No thanks," he said, and from the pocket of his robe withdrew a slithery silvery garment. "Only you've probably seen this before."

Remus grinned conspiratorially. "The number of times I hid under it. Be careful then, Harry. Good night."

The letter was from Bill Weasley. "Church-- The couple in question did in fact receive their loan. Gringotts apparently has faith they can make good. Since faith is your business, I thought you should know. Horus."

So Arabella and Mundungus had succeeded in performing their appointed task. Remus smiled. What would Lucius Malfoy think if he knew so much effort was being expended on his son? Doubtless he would assume the Phoenicians wished to use Draco to hurt him. Malfoy's biggest weakness was his consistent failure to understand Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore would never choose to hurt a child. Quickly Remus took up his quill and scrawled out a reply.

"Horus-- That's good news. I am sure Flame will send his congratulations, but I will say it on behalf of us both: very well done indeed. I hope that during the winter holiday I will be able to call on them. Church."

As he was sealing the letter, he heard something scratching at his door. Drawing his wand, he crept to the door and listened to something breathing. After a moment he heard a soft whine. He laughed and opened the door. "So it's you, Snuffles." He grinned. "Come on in, boy."

The dog slunk in and Remus closed the door firmly, locking it and putting up a ward against listening. When he turned around, Sirius was standing there, looking dishevelled and unshaven. He put his hands in his pocket and frowned at Remus.

"It's about time you got back. When Snape told us about the raid, we all thought you were dead--or worse."

Remus stared at him. "I hadn't thought of what you all would think," he said slowly. "Is Rain--"

"Horrible," Sirius said, his voice sharp. Then he sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. Halfway through, he stopped and began to scratch vigourously. "She's locked herself in her rooms, ever since Tuesday night. It's bloody perplexing, Moony." He began to pace, six--eight--six--eight. "We got the news Monday, when Snape came back. After we left the meeting, Rain locked me in her office and took off. A couple of hours later, Snape showed up, looking for her. Well, she'd said she was going with him, so that set off alarms." He stopped pacing and sent Remus an anguished look. Remus nodded for him to go on.

"A few hours later, when I hadn't heard from him again, I broke the rules and went out looking for her--as Padfoot, of course! Don't look at me that way, Moony. I was worried. I finally found her, in Snape's room. She was--well, she was rat arsed, is what she was. Puking into one of his cauldrons. And Severus--" He cleared his throat. "Snape was holding her. Keeping her hair out of her face, you know, taking care of her. I--well, it was weird."

Sirius dropped into a chair with an air of exhaustion. "She came back Tuesday, noonish, and she locked me out of her bedroom. I heard her crying in there, Moony." He hesitated. "I transformed back to pound on the door and ask her what was wrong, and she just yelled. She made me promise not to transform again--I haven't had a bath in three days, Remus," he said plaintively.

Remus stared at him. Wondering what exactly had happened in his absence. Obviously, if Rain had broken her own rules and got drunk, it was something bad. "How is she now?"

"Still quite waspish," Sirius replied. "She hasn't cried but that once, but she's been in a high temper ever since. I've taken to slinking behind furniture when she comes in. But--" He hesitated again, so long this time that Remus said, "Go on."

"Well, Snape's been taking off more points from the Ravenclaws than he has the Gryffindors. The Ravenclaws are grumbling that at this rate they'll be negative before Christmas."

Remus frowned. Rain and Severus had argued? That was somewhat--unusual. Well, not unusual for them to argue, but unusual for them to hold a grudge against each other. "That's strange," he mused.

Sirius nodded emphatically. "Not that I'd miss the bloody git, but he did seem to make her smile more than I did, while you were gone. Plus he's a damn sight better at Wizard's Chess than either you or I. He can beat her more often than she beats him."

"Perhaps," Remus said reluctantly, "I should speak with Severus."

Sirius was shaking his head. "I don't know, Moony. I--" He frowned. "Whatever else the man is guilty of, he loves her. I--I didn't think it was possible. Wouldn't have believed Snape had a heart to lose. But when she was sick--I saw his face, Remus! The only times I've ever seen a man look at a woman like that was with James and Lily. It's something I always wanted, and never knew how to have." He looked at the rug, some shadow creeping back across his face. He opened his mouth, but said nothing.

Remus' heart was thudding in his chest. He had known Severus loved her, but had imagined it as a hard, selfish sort of love. Instead Sirius--Sirius, of all people, who hated Snape!--Sirius was describing the sort of love that valued the other's life above the self's, that would rather die than cause the beloved pain. He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. Finally he shook his head. "There's something you're not telling me, Padfoot," he said hoarsely.

Sirius' eyes were tortured when he finally looked up. "I can't, Moony," he whispered.

~ * ~

With a growl of frustration, Rain closed her book and hurled it across the room. She'd spent the past three days searching Dumbledore's personal chronicles of Voldemort's first rise to power, trying to find evidence of attacks on purebloods. Dumbledore had given the chronicles to her during the first week of class so she would have more primary source material for her lessons. She'd skimmed through them, but the beginning of the term had been so overwhelming that she'd sort of forgotten she had them.

Tuesday evening, disgusted with herself for giving in to her addiction, and furious with Snape, she had seized on the chronicles as a means of distracting herself from her personal life and trying to do something for the Order at the same time. She'd read them thoroughly, poring over the bits that dealt with Dumbledore's interactions with Lucius Malfoy, and wondering why there was no mention of Severus in the chronicles until the last volume, when Dumbledore recorded that Severus had been helping the Order for several months.

Rain had moved on to The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and You-Know-Who but Do You Know Why? (which thin volume had proved to be little more than a story worthy of the cover of The Quibbler). There had been virtually nothing in either book regarding attacks on purebloods, and the second book had been so inaccurate it claimed Voldemort was a pureblood himself. With another growl, Rain slumped back against the wall and scowled out at the sleet that was beating at the windowpane.

"Well, I've never seen you this overset before, not even when Lily hexed your eyebrows off for kissing James under the mistletoe."

Rain jerked bolt upright on the windowseat and glared reproach at her cousin. "How did you get in? I told the door to let no one in without a password. And it wasn't me that kissed him," she added as an afterthought.

"You said nothing about cats," Minerva replied calmly. "And you know I've always been able to work out your passwords. And I distinctly remember that you took the blame for Eilonwy Finch's bad behaviour with James." She folded her arms across her chest and looked severe. "Now, what on Earth is this about? I was elected to come in to talk to you because everyone else was too cowardly to do so. Dumbledore, fortunately enough for him, was busy meeting with Hagrid and the giant envoys."

"He is?" Rain asked, intrigued.

"Yes. Oddly enough, the world does not revolve around Katraina McGonagall." As Rain was about to say something rude, Minerva added, "Although from Severus' recent behaviour, one wouldn't know it."

Rain hated it that those words lightened her heart. "Go away."

Minerva slapped her hand on Rain's bedside table. "I will not go away! You are no longer a child, Katraina! You are a clan head and a Hogwarts professor! And yet here I am, having to chastise you for behaving like a child. Locking yourself in your room, walking about in a temper for days! The other teachers had to fill in for you for a day and a half. What in heaven's name are you thinking?"

Rain blanched. The last time Min had yelled at her like this, she'd been caught with a Restricted Section book the Marauders had used in a prank against the Slytherins. She hung her head. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"And I really don't care what you want, Katraina," Min said acidly. "You will explain yourself this instant."

Instinctively Rain slid down from the windowseat and put her hands behind her back. She felt as if she were eleven again. "I was stupid. I got worried about Remus after the meeting with the Phoenicians. I went by myself down to the Three Broomsticks."

"Rain, you didn't!" Min looked horrified.

"I did. I wasn't thinking straight." Rain felt her stomach drop. When she thought of the trouble Min had taken, to get her sober again--and so Rain had let Min down just as she had Severus and Sirius. "I just, that is...I thought, if something should happen--" Min was looking very severe indeed. Rain hung her head. "And then Severus came looking for me. He was dreadfully angry, Min. I let him down, I disobeyed his instructions, and I ignored his warnings, and then I didn't even go to him for assurance, when he was the only one who could have given it." She shook her head violently. "I'm such an idiot sometimes! Why do I always cock things up?"

Minerva was implacable. "Perhaps because you don't always think things through properly. I don't think your publishers would agree that you are an idiot. Nor would the scholars and the public who enjoy your books. And I notice Heatherhall hasn't fallen in yet. The clan has a great deal of confidence in you. Consider that half of them are Slytherins, and in fourteen years not one of them has tried to depose you."

Rain hiccoughed. "Only because no one else wants it."

Minerva threw her hands in the air. "Please tell me you have not been feeling sorry for yourself for a week!"

Rain looked away, her heart thumping, her mouth suddenly dry. She couldn't tell Min about Severus, could she? She opened her mouth, hesitated, and closed it again.

Minerva's expression softened. "Well, I can see you haven't. But Rain, you'd do better to tell me." After a moment of silence, she added, "Sirius has already told me some of it."

Rain stared at her. "Sirius? He doesn't have anything to--" She cut off her words, feeling betrayed.

"I know that," Min said, her voice gentler. "But he was worried for you Monday night, and went out looking for you. He heard you--ask Severus to--to tell you that he loved you." Min looked compassionately at her. "Poor dearling, have you gone and fallen in love with them both?"

Rain looked down, feeling decidedly miserable. "Oh, Min, it's worse than that. I made a total ass of myself, and--and--Severus doesn't want me!" She bit her lip hard, willing herself to be calm, and it actually worked.

Min stared at her. "Doesn't want--why, that's poppycock, Rain. Severus simply worships you, and anyone who knows him out to know that. Even I can see it, and I've always been exceedingly disappointed in him."

"For going over to Voldemort?" Rain asked, confused.

"For going to Voldemort, for throwing away his potential, for giving up on you."

"Giving up on me?" Rain stared at her, a new suspicion forming. "You knew? You knew we were betrothed?"

Minerva chuckled weakly. "I've given too much away tonight. Esme would have my head. As would Severus." She sighed. "Yes, Rain, I knew of your family's plan for you--because Esme knew how much I...care for you, girl. She thought I should know, after Mairie. I confess, when Albus asked me to bring you here, I was torn between hope and anxiety. I--I felt it was only right for me to apprise Albus of the situation."

"How many people knew of this before I did?" Rain said bitterly. Oh, it had been wise on Esme's part to tell Min--but did the entire wizarding world know? Perhaps they'd posted the banns when she wasn't looking.

"Well, anyway," she said, "he made it clear enough on Tuesday that he wanted nothing to do with me. And I suppose I'm overset for two reasons--that's one, of course; the other is that I love Remus, and I shouldn't care that Severus doesn't want me."

She looked up at her cousin and saw that the Gryffindor's face was sweet and tender. "Oh, Min," she whispered, and Minerva enveloped her in a hug. "God help me, I do care. I do."

~ * ~

Her father had died. That was what had taken from Severus the courage to speak. He had lived the past two years in the knowledge that when he did speak, it would be supported both by his father and hers. It had been arranged, before he had even thought to ask for such an arrangement for himself. The thought had pleased him. No other person had ever made him feel as alive. No other person had ever made him question himself, the way Katraina had. It was a natural progression of their relationship that she had begun by challenging him, and that she continued by challenging him. Severus liked who he was when he was under her influence. He liked being more thoughtful, less corrosive. It had got so that Severus looked forward to leaving Hogwarts, because then he could speak. He could speak and have it in the open, and have things ready. And then her father had died.

When Severus was in his seventh year, and Rain in her sixth, her father had died suddenly and without warning. Fergus McGonagall, Lord Heatherhall, The McGonagall of Clan McGonagall, had been hurt in a hunting accident and had died before anyone had found him. The news had come as a considerable shock to Katraina, but Esme had come back to the school especially for the purpose of informing her sister. Esme had come to Severus first, entreated him to go with her, and told Katraina in the Headmaster's Office. Esme had been the one who held her when she began crying, the one who wiped her tears away and smoothed her hair, while Severus performed the menial tasks such as getting tea for everyone. And Esme's gratitude, and even the gratitude he knew Rain would express, were she coherent, were little comfort to Severus when he realized he was not the person to whom she had turned for comfort.

Fergus McGonagall had died, and with him had died Severus' hopes of the easy agreement that had been drawn up between the two families. He had wanted desperately to speak to Katraina that day, to tell her of the agreement, to promise her he would always take care of her. Yet he held his tongue, hoping in the future he might have more to offer her.

Fergus McGonagall had died in a hunting accident; and it was only three years later, when Severus had achieved a certain measure of status among the Death Eaters, that he had learned that while someone had been hunting Fergus, his death had certainly been no accident.

He thought of a conversation he'd had once with Esme, during the winter holidays his sixth year. Their families always spent Christmas together--and that had been awful, the year Remus Lupin had gone home with Rain--and usually Severus ended up watching Rain across the room, unable to make himself speak to her in front of the gathered adults. Esme had sidled up next to him, staring out the window at the lackluster snowflakes spitting down on them.

"You should talk to her, Severus. She doesn't understand why you won't."

He sat silent for a long time, half hoping she would go away. She didn't. Finally he opened his mouth, unsure of what he wanted to say, and surprised himself with the truth. "Love. Have you ever been in love?"

"You might say that."

"Horrible, isn't it?"

"In what way?"

"It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore."

To which Esme had, after all, had no response.

For once Severus scowled at the Slytherins and Gryffindors with an equal measure of displeasure. Not only had Potter and Weasley managed to correctly brew a Perception Potion--amazingly, due to Potter's own skill for once--but Zabini and Bulstrode had cocked theirs up so badly that their cauldron had erupted, spewing the sparkly red potion over everyone on that side of the room. Several students had begun breaking out in rashes; Malfoy and Zabini had been directly in the line of fire.

As Zabini whimpered and rubbed at her eyes, Malfoy shouted at her. Boils were erupting on her face, and already her eyes were hidden in the swollen flesh. Malfoy had been badly doused with it, though it hadn't hit his eyes. Severus took a firmer grasp on his temper and said, "Very nice, Miss Bulstrode. Perhaps for an encore you will melt the table next to you? That is quite enough, Draco. The two of you might as well go to the hospital wing. Potter, Weasley, help them."

As the two Gryffindors stared at him in horror, Severus walked to Bulstrode and barked out a charm to reverse the rash. When he saw the two boys weren't moving, Severus snapped, "Now! Five points from Gryffindor, for failing to obey a teacher." They ran. Severus turned back and smiled unpleasantly. "And as for you, Miss Bulstrode...sixty points from Slytherin."

The Gryffindors and Slytherins alike gave one collective gasp as he turned and strode to the next students who needed the countercharm to remove the rash.

~*~

Rain stride briskly towards her classroom, eager to prepare for her first lesson. She had come out of seclusion that morning, explaining to the head table, over breakfast, that she'd had a dazzling headache, and expressing her thanks to those who had covered her classes. She was ready to begin teaching World War II and Grindelwald's Nazi involvement, and was looking forward to sharing Winston Churchill with her students.

As she turned a corner, Rain saw a group of students ahead of her, approaching a redheaded girl--Ginny Weasley, of course. The identities of the others surprised her: Blaise Zabini, looking as if she'd had a bad encounter with a Blast-Ended Skrewt, and Draco Malfoy, who was cradling one arm against his chest; they were accompanied by Harry and Ron. It didn't take much to deduce that there'd been an accident, though whether it had been Potions, Charms, or Care of Magical Creatures, Rain had no idea.

"Oh, this is ill news brewing," she murmured. They didn't appear to have seen her, so she ducked behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, and waited.

As Ginny drew abreast of the group, Draco's foot shot out and hooked around her ankle. She fell headlong, books, quills, parchment, and ink flying in all directions. The ink bottle smashed against the stone and left a smear of purple ink. Ginny hit the floor heavily with a small cry. Draco laughed.

"Why you--" To Rain's surprise, Harry reacted faster than Ron. He gripped Draco's collar and slammed him into the wall. The blond boy winced. Blaise crumpled, staggering into Ron and distracting him.

Rain left her hiding spot and reached the group as Harry pulled his fist back to punch Draco. "I think that will be enough, Potter," she said calmly.

Everyone jumped except Draco, whose eyes widened as he saw her. Blaise quickly slumped against Ron again, and Rain bit the inside of her mouth. It was obviously a sham; the girl had spoken once before of Slytherin solidarity, after all.

Harry hadn't released Draco, and as he turned to stare at Rain with flashing eyes, she saw the slighter boy wince under the pressure. "Professor!" Harry exclaimed. "You don't know what Malfoy--"

"I saw everything, Potter," Rain said, unsmiling. "Why don't you let go of Draco and see if Ginny's hurt." It was not a suggestion.

"Yes, cease manhandling me, Potter," Draco drawled. "Think of the waste of house-elf time, getting the wrinkles out of my robes."

"And as for you," Rain said, her voice and eyes chilly as she turned to him. "I expected better from a prefect. Twenty points from Slytherin. And I expect you to apologize to Miss Weasley."

His mouth dropped open. "Apologize! To that mousey little piece of Muggle-loving dirt? I most certainly will not!"

"You most certainly will, Mr Malfoy," she said grimly. "And that will cost you another ten points. And a detention."

Blaise sat up. "Detention?"

Rain softened her expression slightly. "Not for you, Miss Zabini. That was a lovely faint, by the way. Have you ever thought of taking up acting?" The poor girl's face was too disfigured for her to show a blush. Rain looked at Draco once more.

"You, Mr Malfoy, will spend the next fortnight carrying Miss Weasley's books for her."

Ron and Harry looked at her with identical expressions of horror. "Malfoy carrying books for my sister!" Ron exclaimed. "Professor, it sounds like you're punishing Ginny!"

If Draco had been considering defying her, that did it. He straightened, dusted his robes, and looked at Rain with steely eyes. "Very well," he said coldly, ignoring Ron and Harry. "I'm afraid Professor Snape won't like it."

That stung a bit, but she didn't let it show. "I think you'll find that Severus will support my decision," she said quietly. "Being Sorted into Slytherin House does not exempt you from living with honour, Mr Malfoy. A fortnight. And if I find your behaviour anything but exemplary, the period will be extended."

Draco stared into her eyes for a moment longer, and she was awed by the rawness of that gaze. Tormented by ambition and doubt, rage and loneliness, confusion and darkness--Draco was so much like Severus had been that it nearly took her breath. But she gave him a calm stare, and he backed down.

Walking to where Harry and Ron were kneeling by Ginny, he stopped in front of her, his back straight as a wand, and bowed formally. "Virginia, you have my apologies," he said, his tone unreadable. "Did I hurt you?"

Ginny looked at Rain, confusion in her brown eyes, and Rain thanked God for uncomplicated Gryffindors. She nodded slightly and Ginny looked back at Draco. "My ankle," she said in a voice less timid than anyone had expected.

Draco gave her a long considering look. "Well," he said after a moment, "I was going to the hospital wing. Perhaps you should accompany me."

Harry and Ron were gaping at him, but fortunately they kept still as Ginny allowed Draco to pull her upright and support her weight. After a moment, Ron helped Blaise stand up, and she murmured her thanks and flashed him an almost shy look. His ears went red.

"I'll go with them to Madam Pomfrey," Harry volunteered, looking hard at Draco.

"Right then," Rain agreed, privately amused. "Why don't you come with me to my classroom and tell me what happened, Ron?"

As they walked, Ron explained to her about a botched potion and having to take Blaise and Draco to the hospital wing. He only showed any emotion when he reached Draco's attack on Ginny. "And that slimy git actually dared to do it right in front of us!" he finished, his ears glowing with indignation.

"It was actually rather brave of him, wasn't it?" Rain said dryly. "Beastly, but brave."

"For Cowardly Malfoy, sure," Ron said.

"Rest assured, Professor Snape will hear of it."

Ron's ears went redder still. "Not that Snape will do anything about it. Professor, no one understands why you'd be friends with that bastard!"

"Ronald!" Rain said, not having to feign her shock.

"Sorry, Professor," he began, then looked up at her with a mulish expression that tugged at her memory. "But he is, and no one understands!"

Rain let out her breath slowly. "Ron, have you ever wished that you and Draco Malfoy could be friends?"

Ron stared at her, but he considered the question before answering. "Friends? Well, I dunno. I reckon so," he said slowly, "if he weren't such a git." He stopped, as if remembering something. "He tried to be friends with Harry, our first year. Huh. Glad Harry had the sense not to accept it. I mean, no one likes Malfoy except his own house, and from what I hear, not even all of them do. They're just afraid of his goons, or his daddy's money."

Rain nodded. "That's not the case with you, is it?"

"What d'you mean?"

"You have friends, don't you?" Rain asked, smiling.

"Well, everyone likes Weasleys. I'm just another Weasley." He sounded glum.

"Oh, come now! Not to Harry; he isn't best friends with Fred or George, is he? And you can't tell me Hermione thinks that one Weasley is as good as the next."

Ron's entire face turned scarlet, never mind the ears.

"Ron, people like you for who you are, not who your father can buy. You have parents who love you, loads of great siblings, and two friends who would do anything for you out of love, not fear. Not to mention you're the best chess player in the school and you get to hang out with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Don't you think maybe Draco Malfoy envies you?"

She had stunned him. He stared blankly down the hallway, his brown eyes wide, his mouth slightly slack. At last he said, "I never, ever thought of that, Professor. I mean...he's always been such a nasty git..." He shook his head. "So Snape envied Harry's dad, then?"

Rain lifted one shoulder and tilted her head, smiling. She remembered painful encounters and names like Snivellus and Mudblack being thrown about. "Or perhaps he envied Sirius. But I'll tell you, Ron--Professor Snape has a brilliant mind, and he is on Dumbledore's side. No matter how unorthodox his methods."

Ron nodded slowly. "Right. Well. Doesn't mean I like him, though."

Rain laughed. "And I suppose it doesn't mean he likes all of the headmaster's people, either. Well, here we are, Ron. Thank you for your time. You run on back to the Potions dungeon, now. Tell Severus I excused you."

Ron nodded doubtfully and went. Rain sat down at her desk and shuffled her papers into a neat pile, got essays ready to hand back, and made sure her bookmark in Their Finest Hour was at the correct passage. Then she waited for her sixth years.

The sixth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins always made for an interesting lesson. For one thing Cho Chang was top student in her year, and while she was still easily upset over Diggory, she was young enough to be resilient. Her summer of grief had forged a passionate determination to do everything to oppose Voldemort. On the other hand, this form also included Adrian Pucey, a clever Slytherin who was ruthless about the fate of all Muggleborns like Chang. An interesting lesson indeed.

When the students were all seated--Ravenclaws with quills in hand, Slytherins slouching in their seats--Rain smiled around at them and said, "Right. We've been talking about Grindelwald and his influence on both Wizarding and Muggle life in the 30s and 40s. Who can tell me about the British Prime Minister?"

Adrian raised his hand. "It was Laurence Malfoy, wasn't it?"

Rain blinked. "Close, Mr Pucey. But I meant the Muggle Prime Minister, not our Minister of Magic."

Chang raised her hand. "Sir Winston Churchill."

Rain smiled. "Very good. Five points to Ravenclaw. Can anyone tell me anything about Churchill?"

"He looked like bulldog," drawled another Slytherin. The entire house snickered. Rain ignored this.

Mr Pucey raised his hand again. "He said to never give up." To Rain's surprise, he managed a passable imitation of Churchill's inflection.

Rain nodded. "Good. Five points to Slytherin. Do you know what he was talking about when he said it?"

Silence. Rain smiled.

"Churchill was nearing the end of his career. He had been invited to speak at Harrow, his old school. When the day of his speech finally arrived, he got up before the school and said, simply, 'Young men, never give up. Never give up! Never give up! Never, never, never--never--never!'"

"I think that is some of the best advice anyone has ever given. And it is advice that you should all take to heart." She surveyed them for a moment.

"Right, then. We've already established that Grindelwald was working with Hitler. But does anyone know if there was any cooperation between the Wizarding world and the Allied Forces?"

More silence. She waited, and finally another Ravenclaw girl's hand crept up. "Well, there had to have been some interaction, right? I--I think I've heard that Dumbledore helped defeat Grindelwald."

"Oh, very good," said one of the Slytherins. "Someone's been reading their chocolate frog cards." Rain looked at him, and he subsided, but she was actually amused. After all, he had known what Dumbledore's card said. That spoke of curiosity, if nothing more.

"Well, here is what Churchill had to say about the matter." Opening Their Finest Hour, Rain read aloud: "During the human struggle between the British and German Air Forces, between pilot and pilot, between anti-aircraft batteries and aircraft, between ruthless bombing and the fortitude of the British people, another conflict was going on step by step, month by month. This was a secret war, whose battles were lost or won unknown to the public, and only with difficulty comprehended, even now, by those outside the small high wizarding circles concerned. No such warfare had ever been waged by mortal men. The terms in which it could be recorded or talked about were unintelligible to ordinary folk. Yet if we had not mastered its profound meaning and used its mysteries even while we saw them only in the glimpse, all the efforts, all the prowess of the fighting airmen, all the bravery and sacrifices of the people, would have been in vain. Unless British wizardry had proved superior to German, and unless its strange sinister resources had been effectively brought to bear on the struggle for survival, we might well have been defeated, and, being defeated, destroyed."

She stopped and looked around at them. "Their Finest Hour, chapter four, 'The Wizard War'. So. Winston Churchill--Muggle? Or more? What do you think? Adrian?"

"Well, Professor, you called him the Defiant Muggle. And Muggle Prime Ministers are apprised of the Wizarding World's existence. I would posit that Churchill was a Muggle; but that he took great strides to coordinate efforts between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds."

"Very nice, Mr Pucey. And did Minister Malfoy succeed in assisting Churchill? Miss Chang?"

"The Malfoy family is against Muggles, ma'am. Like Marietta said, it was Headmaster Dumbledore--then a teacher of Transfiguration--who actually brought Grindelwald down."

Rain nodded. "Thank you. Yes, it was the first time (though obviously not the last) when Dumbledore found himself at odds with the Ministry." She smiled slightly. All of them, even the Slytherins, were leaning forward in their seats. "And now, please turn in your books to Chapter Eight. Who would like to tell us something about Helga's Legacy..."

~*~

Draco held back his scowl as he picked up his copy of Hogwarts: A History and tried to balance it on top of Virginia Weasley's stack of four books. He would not allow anyone to think he did this out of anything but his own free will. He had been prepared to threaten Blaise with hexes or gossip; to his surprise, the thin, pale girl had only gazed solemnly at him with her glittering violet eyes.

"Don't worry, Draco," she had said, surprising him with the use of his first name. "I believe in Slytherin solidarity."

"Ah," he had replied, understanding. "How much is it to be, then?"

"How much?"

"I presume that you propose to blackmail me. How much do you want?"

"Nothing," she said simply. "I will keep my silence for the sake of Slytherin house."

She was mental, but Draco chose to ignore that and accept the good fortune as his due as a Malfoy. He would definitely keep a close watch on her, though. Blaise was a mystery, and that made her dangerous. And she had a brother in Ravenclaw.

"Am I interrupting a private moment, Draco?" asked a too-sweet female voice. Weasley. He scowled out of habit, then quickly schooled his features back to impassivity.

"Of course not, Virginia. You're a part of it. How could you be interrupting?"

She frowned at him. "Don't call me that. Only my grandmother calls me that."

"A bit American, isn't it?"

"So what?" she asked, and he was pleased at the defensive tone of her voice.

"Oh, it just seems so modern. You know--Muggle."

She flushed. "Don't start that Pureblood rubbish with me, Draco Malfoy. I don't care how pure anyone's blood is. What matters, like Professor Rain said, is if you live with honour."

"Honour!" he scoffed. But her words, instead of angering him, unsettled him. First Rain McGonagall, then Virginia Weasley. "What would a Weasley know about honour?" he asked, stalking towards the greenhouses.

Ginny kept up with him easily; she was nearly as tall as Ron. Draco, who wasn't as tall as Ron, stood level with her. He increased his pace, but she matched him stride for stride.

"Plenty," she replied, lifting her chin and glancing sidelong at him. "Honour doesn't cost money, Malfoy. It costs in character. And character is born out of adversity."

He snorted. "Then I'm sure you Weasleys have it in spades. In which case, why would I want it?" He pushed through the door of Greenhouse Three and deposited Ginny's books on a potting table. She snickered. He felt his face heat, though he didn't know why. "What's your problem?" he snarled, and blushed even hotter when she laughed aloud.

"Spades," she explained, and pointed at one leaning against the greenhouse wall.

He wasn't amused. It was too much like she was laughing at him. "Why don't you shut your ugly mouth, Muggle-lover," he snapped, and was gratified when she stopped laughing and stared at him with wide brown eyes. "You'd better not leave here until I come back for you. Bint McGonagall would get angry, and then I'd make sure you were sorry."

She stared solemnly at him, and he turned and left, trying to sweep out the way Professor Snape would. His efforts were hampered by the stupid chattering fourth years, who didn't get out of his way as quickly as they ought. As he left, she shouted after him, words that would haunt him.

"Don't you have any friends?"

Friends. Of course he had friends! He scowled at Rain's back as she wrote Monday's assignment on the board. Who did that red-headed little brat think she was, anyway? Did she have any friends? He couldn't remember; he'd never paid that much attention to her, anyway. Everyone knew she fancied Potter, of course. The only reasons Draco had ever bothered with her were to twit Weasley about her and to twit Potter about her. It was convenient, but it didn't require Draco to pay attention to her.

It surprised him, in a mild degree, that he and Virginia had even spoken to one another as they walked. Granted, she had sassed him at Flourish and Blotts back in second year, but she'd been defending Potter then, hadn't she? Draco would have expected, if he'd bothered to think of it at all, that Ginny would squeak and blush if spoken to.

Of course he had friends! Look at Crabbe and Goyle. He glanced over at them; Crabbe had his finger digging in his ear and Goyle was playing crosses and noughts with himself. Er...well, don't look at Crabbe and Goyle. But Parkinson and Zabini could be considered...well, social equals, he supposed. Prospects, if he were totally honest. Bulstrode. She was shaping up to be a decent Beater, if only because of her bulk. She was a bit too brutish to talk to, though. A female Goyle...yech.

He ran his mind over the list of Slytherins. Terence Higgs--surprising easy (and therefore boring) to bully. Theresa Nott--a wild card, but pretty enough. Avery--a fair hand at Wizard's chess. Draco nodded once in satisfaction. Yes, Avery would do for a friend.

"Mr Malfoy, did you have a question?" Rain McGonagall's voice broke into his ruminations and abruptly he came back to himself. The classroom was empty except for the two of them. Rain was looking at him expectantly.

"No, I--that is--well, yes, actually." He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin as an idea occurred to him. "I thought I should warn you that my father is a very powerful man. He says--"

"I don't give a tinker's damn what your father says, Mr Malfoy," she interrupted. White rage flashed through him, but she continued without pausing. "I am not here to educate your father; that task is apparently impossible. I am here to educate you. And you show considerably more promise than Lucius ever did."

Draco couldn't suppress the rush of pleasure those words brought him; this only made him angrier. "If he finds out--" Draco began, and to his fury she cut him off again, deliberately (he thought) misunderstanding him.

"Oh, he won't find out, Mr Malfoy. As long as I don't catch you out being beastly again. No one outside of Hogwarts teachers will find out from me, so long as you behave."

Her words were laden with threat--or promise?--though her tone was light. She almost managed to sound as if she weren't blackmailing him. Draco relaxed; he understood this sort of language.

"Don't worry," he muttered.

"Good!" She smiled at him. "Now, I believe Miss Weasley will be waiting for you?"

As he left the History of Magic classroom, Draco smirked. He had told her not to worry. He had never promised to behave.

~*~

Rain walked slowly towards the Great Hall. Lunchtime chatter poured out of the hall and spilled down the corridors, but she was caught in a moment of melancholy. If she were being truthful, she would be forced to admit that she had been avoiding Severus, but had also been just as reluctant to see Remus.

She had asked him into her office last night and explained to him, in tones stiff with embarrassment, the events that had transpired after he left for Wales. She included her asinine drinking spree, as well as Severus' gentle treatment of her. She did not include her foolish invitation of Severus' love, nor the argument they had the next day. She pleaded a dazzling headache, which was true enough.

"Why didn't you ask Snape for a potion to help with the pain?" Remus had asked.

"Severus is...still unhappy with me," she replied, certain it was true.

"Pomfrey, then?"

"Oh, for pity's sake, I deserved to suffer a bit, Remus! D'you remember how Dumbledore always refused to magic off any bruises from Sirius' and James' frolicking with the Slytherins? Magic is an amazing gift, which brings with it responsibility. But there are actions for which we must accept the consequences. I happen to feel that drinking is one of them."

He had nodded, apparently conceding the point, and had then pulled her over to the window seat, where he held her and told her about his mission, punctuating the sentences with kisses dropped on the nape of her neck.

It had made her feel horribly guilty. How could she love Remus for seventeen years, because he was quiet, kind, and funny, if she could also somehow find it in her to thrill at the sensation of being lifted in Severus' arms? Even dead drunk she had been cognizant of the fact that he smelled gingerly, and that--at the moment, at least--her hair was as greasy as his. When she had gone clubbing, much earlier in her career as an anonymous alcoholic, she had every night undergone a transfiguration that even the most Mundane Muggle girl would understand: her carefully styled curls would frizz and become staticky. Her face paled, except her nose, which reddened, and her lipstick wore off. Being lifted in Severus Snape's arms made her feel as though she looked ten times worse than the worst Club Night Transfiguration. And yet she also felt, somehow, that it didn't bother him in the least.

She paused in the middle of the hall as a movement caught her eye. On the wall hung a painting of a woman clutching the hand of a knight. The woman knelt before him, and her dress was patterned like a snake's skin. On the ground near her feet wound a snake's tail. Rain knew this painting, and shuddered slightly: Lamia by Waterhouse. As she watched, the woman lifted her hand to the man's face, brought his face down to hers, and then the knight pulled away again.

Rain sighed. Neither of them cared about that, of course. Remus had reacted badly to the secret, that was all. Severus had merely promised to help her. She wondered briefly if he would continue to brew the Sangrapura Potion, but of course she knew he would. Not only was it his duty and an oath he had taken, but she couldn't entirely believe his complete reversal of feelings. His profession of falseness had come only after he had carried her, nursed her, and raged at her. And left her a rose.

Besides, if he had wanted only the Death Eaters to believe he loved her, he would have told her sooner. She would have willingly gone along with it, and he knew her well enough to realize that. He had been so different this term, to how he'd been during their school days. Yes, there was an even darker side to him, but he seemed more vitally aware of what he stood to lose.

The only explanation could be that he had acted as he did to protect her. She hadn't been able to see that, right after That Horrible Night, but it was plain enough now. She was torn between being amusedly angry at his presumption, and thinking his protectiveness was sweet. She still hadn't decided entirely how to react.

A whine behind her made her turn. "Snuffles! What are you doing here? I thought I'd shut you in my office!"

The dog glanced up and down the abandoned hallway in a decidedly human fashion, then became Sirius, who dragged her into a small side closet. He put a hand over her mouth to keep her still. Robbed of her words, Rain glared furiously at him.

"Shh!" he breathed. "I know I'm not meant to be here, but an urgent owl came from Muggleplug. I have to talk to Church, but he's in the Great Hall and I can't exactly go in and get him."

Rain noted with a mixture of amusement and alarm the way the codenames spilled from his mouth. She nodded and he removed his hand. "I'll get him," she said. "You go back to my rooms. He knows the password."

Sirius kept hold of her wrist. "Rainstorm, you won't--I mean, you--" He paused. "He'll need you, you know."

Rain blinked at him. Did Sirius see something in the future that she had missed? "I know that," she said gently, and pulled free of his grip. "Go on, now. And be careful!" She waited until her black dog had run back the way he had come. Then she made her way to the head table of the Great Hall.

The head table was full. A woman who was simply too big to be allowed was sitting beside Hagrid; Rain assumed she was Olympe Maxime. Next to her was a lovely blonde girl who seemed to be a strange mixture of ice and flowers. That would probably be their envoy to the veela. To her surprise, she also saw Arthur Weasley seated next to Dumbledore, a red-haired boy--well, young man, actually--with glasses on his other side. But why would Arthur send an owl if he were here? And which of his other sons was this--Charlie or Percy?

With horror Rain realized Remus and Severus were seated next to one another, carefully not brushing elbows or looking at each other. She stood between them and touched Remus' shoulder. Both men looked up, but Severus looked away again very quickly.

"You've had an owl," she told Remus quietly. "Snuffles found it; I was afraid he'd eat the ickle thing."

Remus grinned. "If it's that one who delivered my first letter, I shouldn't blame him. I was tempted to eat it myself."

Rain thought she heard an unpleasant snicker out of Severus, but she didn't turn. She caught Remus' eye. "My room," she mouthed, and he nodded. Finishing off his lunch, he stood up.

"Why don't you take my seat, Rain? I'm finished here. I'll go check on my 'ickle' owl."

Severus began to stand up, but Rain put a hand on his shoulder and pushed. "Excellent," she said, smiling brilliantly at Remus. "I need to have a few words with Severus, anyway."

"Oh, joy," Snape muttered, and Remus arched an eyebrow and left.

"Don't you dare," Rain hissed back at Severus. "You will listen to me, Severus."

He gave her a sour look and settled back into his chair expectantly.

"I know what you were doing the other day. I may be a fool, but I know you, Severus. That was very noble of you, but also extremely misguided. I am capable of making my own decisions, regardless of how many mistakes I may make along the way." She spoke softly to avoid attracting listeners. "You have always had the sense to know when to lie and when to own up to something--I still remember the time you slipped love-in-a-mist into James' pumpkin juice and he tried to hand his homework to Lily and kiss Minerva. You were lucky Min found it amusing."

He blinked at her. "You are being excessively foolish, Katraina."

"Am I?" She smiled at him--a hard smile--and tilted her head to one side. "No, Severus, you're the one making a complete ass of himself. You cannot treat me in one manner all term, and then suddenly change your tune as if you'd been switched to a different wireless station. It simply doesn't work that way."

"What do you want me to say, Katraina? You want me to whisper sweet nothings, to pledge undying affection? Swear I will be loyal only to you? You should know me better. I have no room in my life for nonsense and frippery; my loyalty is all used up by Albus Dumbledore." He, too, kept his voice low, but the savage bitterness in it surprised her. His fists were clenched, and he leaned towards her, scowling.

She changed tacks. "Did you know the Clan tried twice to marry me off? Both times I had to be polite until the poor fellow actually declared his intentions."

"And then?" he asked, returning to his usual sardonic tone. He glanced at his hands, as if surprised by the fists, and folded his arms across his chest.

"I told him to clear off. Of course, I wouldn't have had to go through it all if you'd only spoken up."

"Would've married a Death Eater, then, would you? And here I thought you'd been saving yourself for the werewolf." His tone now indicated only irritated boredom.

She sidestepped it. "Damn it, Severus! Why don't you act like you've more wit than Draco Malfoy?"

Oh, dear, perhaps she'd said that too loudly. Sinistra and Vector broke off and turned to stare at them. Severus' mouth tightened slightly, but there was an odd glitter in his eyes. He ignored their watching colleagues as he leaned forward.

"Katraina, I give you full marks for pairing him with the Weasley girl, but don't presume too much. Poor fellow. God help him if she deals with him as you have with me. I never--" He broke off, glaring at her, then stood up and swept out of the hall.

Sinistra and Vector applauded, looking impressed. "Good on you, Rain," Vector said. "I've never won a single argument with the man!"

Rain gave her a sickly smile and looked down at the table. She wasn't entirely certain she'd won that argument.

~*~

Arthur Weasley was pacing when Remus arrived in the Muggle Studies classroom. "Thank you for seeing me, Remus," the older man said, relief plain on his honest face. "Horus said you'd seen him recently."

"Yes," Remus said, wondering if Bill were hidden even from his father. He sat at one of the desks and looked at Arthur expectantly.

"Ah, I see he didn't tell you of this." Arthur took a seat across from him. "Percy, of course, doesn't know Bill is alive--the Ministry was a part of the reason he vanished, after all, and Percy is a Ministry man to the core." He sighed, his brow furrowing. "Ah, well, I still have hope for him. That's beside the point, of course. Bill is hidden from anyone who lives at the Burrow. Our son Charlie is his Secret Keeper--"

"You're using the Fidelius Charm?" Remus interrupted, feeling slightly ill.

"Why, yes. You're familiar with it?" Then a look of comprehension and pity washed across Arthur's face. "Oh, of course. I'm terribly sorry, Mr Lupin."

"Remus," he corrected, forcing a smile. "Go on, Arthur."

"Yes, well, Charlie's in Romania and not too easy to find himself--one of the reasons he was the best candidate, you know. So Bill said if I needed to contact him, I could do so through you."

"Oh, of course. Bill set up a Correspondio Charm for my handwriting."

Arthur nodded and handed Remus a small scroll. "He needs to know certain things. If you would make certain he receives this..."

Remus nodded and changed the subject. "How are the Azkaban wards holding up?"

"Oh, tolerably. Fudge won't listen to any of us who are agitating for permanent Obliviation, though. It would be kinder than the Kiss, for lifers, and hopefully combined with Stupefaction, it would eliminate the need for the Dementors."

"That was a good idea," Remus said.

"Ron's," Arthur replied, beaming. "He told me something Hermione Granger said gave him it. What was it he wanted us to call it? Wizards for Azkaban's Decency? Or Compassion for Azkaban Wizards?" He sighed. "Smart lad, Ron. He's made us very proud."

Remus smiled, thinking back on a similar conversation with Harry. "You should tell him that."

"You're right, you're right. Never know when...these days are so uncertain." Arthur's eyes were very bright suddenly.

At that moment the door opened and a group of Ravenclaws came filing in. They looked confused at the sight of the two men. Remus stood up. "Professor Howell will be along in a moment. In the meantime, this is Arthur Weasley, author of the Muggle Protection Act."

He grinned and slipped out of the room as hands shot into the air. Ravenclaws were insatiably--and predictably--curious. When he returned to his office, he was surprised to find Percy Weasley waiting for him. The young man had taken off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. He turned as Remus approached.

"Hello, Percy," Remus said, smiling at him. The boy was a bit pompous, perhaps, and mistaken about Voldemort, but he was a promising lad, provided he didn't go the way of Bartemius Crouch.

"Professor." Percy put his glasses back on. "Could we talk privately, sir?"

"Of course." Remus preceded Percy into his office. "Tea?"

"No, thank you, sir. I'm here in--ah--an unofficial capacity, please understand. But I wanted to ask you a few questions."

Remus gave him a bland smile and raised his eyebrows.

"Sir, I know you were friends with Sirius Black. My younger brother Ron had mentioned it."

That was blunt. "Yes, he was in my year."

"Sir, can you think of any place he might hide out from the Ministry?"

"I'm afraid I can't help you there, Percy. We lost touch when the Ministry sentenced him to Azkaban."

"You haven't seen him since his trial, then?"

Remus blinked. "There was no trial, Percy."

"Nonsense! There's always a trial!" Percy's ears, Remus noticed, were rather pink.

"Not in Sirius' case, I'm afraid. Which led to other mistakes, of course."

Percy stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed. Then he sniffed. "I'm sure proper procedure was followed. The Ministry has its reasons."

"Undoubtedly," Remus said dryly. "But in this case they punished the wrong man. Peter Pettigrew was to blame for the death's of Harry's parents."

"Pettigrew! Rubbish! He's dead. Black murdered him, too."

"What proof is there of that?" Remus asked reasonably. "Percy, I saw Pettigrew with my own eyes a year and a half ago. Harry saw him again this past summer."

Percy's ears were scarlet. At these words he got a furious expression on his face. "Oh, honestly, Professor, you can't tell me you believe all these ridiculous claims Harry is making! I really thought, with your experience, you would know better!"

Remus forced himself to relax. Percy was young, inexperienced--rash. The young so rarely thought about the consequences of their words. He took a deep breath and managed a mild tone. "That was a bit out of line, Percy. I believe that, as a Hogwarts Professor, I do still deserve at least a pretense of respect."

Percy flinched slightly and looked down. "My apologies, Professor," he said stiffly. Then he looked up again. "But, sir, are you certain you don't know where Black might be hiding?"

He stifled a sigh. "As I said before, I can't tell you anything about Sirius' whereabouts."

Percy sniffed. "Very well. I knew it was a longshot, but I thought I might as well ask. I suppose it was too much to hope. Good day, Professor Lupin." He turned.

"Percy," Remus said quietly.

The boy turned back, but said nothing. He appeared to be hyperventilating.

"I was sorry to hear about Bill. I knew him, when we were at school."

To Remus' relief, Percy seemed to deflate. The insufferable expression melted from his face and he looked down at the floor, blinking rapidly. He took a deep breath. "Thank you, Professor." His voice was quiet. He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes quickly. He looked up at Remus and then quickly away again. "Bill teased, but he was the only one who understood."

Abruptly he frowned and strode from the room. Remus let him go, satisfied. The boy loved his family, and it obviously hurt him to be at odds with them. If there were a way to reach him, it would be through them.

When his last class ended, Remus stayed in the classroom, staring absently out the window at the heavy rain. He realized with a shock that November was rapidly wearing away. December was fast approaching, and the winter holidays would be upon them before they knew it. He wondered what the Order of the Phoenix would be doing for Christmas. Would Dumbledore have tasks for them, or would they be free to make their own plans? And if they were, what would his be? He sighed, and was surprised by a giggle. He looked up. Rain was standing in the door, grinning affectionately at him.

"Long day, Moony?" she asked, coming in to sit on the edge of his desk. He noticed she'd left the door ajar.

"Long and perplexing," he agreed, and related his conversations with the Weasleys. As he spoke, she scooted nearer and nearer until his hand, resting on the desktop, was just grazing her robe-clad thigh. Remus felt himself blushing, but he gazed up at her appreciatively.

"Sounds like your day was more productive than mine, then. I only managed to argue with Severus again."

He laughed. "Who won?"

"Vector and Sinistra seemed to think I had."

"Well, he didn't seem pleased to see you at lunch. What happened between the two of you while I was gone?"

It was innocently asked, and he'd meant it for a jest. He was taken aback, therefore, by her reaction. He would swear she started and coloured faintly. She shifted and sighed. "Oh, Remus, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. I don't half understand it myself, and I've been pondering it for almost a week now."

"I know something was wrong," he said slowly, wondering why there was no accompanying rush of jealousy. "It's funny, I never realized before what a--well, a stabilizer he is to you. But you've seemed so off-balance this week."

She shook her head and sighed. "We'll get it sorted," she said, sounding discouraged. Then she brightened. "Remus, have I given you a proper welcome home? I can't seem to remember having done."

He leaned forward and kissed her in response. She laughed against his mouth and tightened her arms about him.

Several minutes later someone knocked on the office door. Remus tried to stand up and dumped Rain out of his lap. She grabbed at the desk and managed to prop herself against it casually as he went to answer the door.

Wait. Why was it now closed?

Hermione and Ginny stood at the door, biting their lips and exchanging glances. He felt anything but calm as he invited them in.

"Oh, Professor Rain, you're here, too!" Hermione exclaimed. "Well, that makes it easier." She smiled nervously at them. "Erm, Ginny and I were wondering about something, and we were hoping to ask you--"

"What Hermione means," Ginny interrupted, "is that she was wondering, and I begged her to take me along because I was desperate to be away from Malfoy. Thanks loads, Professor Rain."

Remus chuckled and Rain grinned, not looking in the least ashamed. "You remind me of me, Ginny," she said. "I thought you'd be good for Draco. He needs to learn what real people are like."

Those lovely Weasley ears. For the third time that day. Remus watched a pair of them turn pink. He bit back a snigger and pasted a carefully vague expression on his face.

"Anyway," Hermione said pointedly. "We were wondering something about when Voldemort was in power, and we thought maybe you'd help us."

Remus raised his eyebrows. Harry's friends were asking for help? Then again, it was Hermione. "Go on," he prompted.

"Well, sir," Hermione said. "I know the Unforgivable Curses were in common use in those days, and that Mr Crouch authorized their use against the Death Eaters. But, sir, at the Quidditch World Cup last year, we saw that it isn't just those curses that are used by the Death Eaters."

Remus nodded slowly.

"But I couldn't find many records of things relating to what spells were used. So I was curious about that. And then I started wondering about other forms of torture. You know, Muggle sorts. And--well, sir, I just wondered if there were other trends, besides unexplained disappearances, that could be used to plot a pattern and prove Voldemort is really back." She looked at him in nervous expectation.

"Well done, Hermione," he said, pleased. "Yes, there were a lot of horrors besides the Unforgivables."

"Dumbledore's accounts of the war with Voldemort do mention some of them," Rain put in.

Remus nodded. "Really, though, Rain and I aren't the ones to help you the most. Sirius was an Auror, before."

"Not you, sir?"

Ginny gave Hermione a withering look. "Really, Mione, he's a werewolf. You ought to know the Ministry has that stupid policy about non-Beings."

Hermione blushed scarlet. "Oh. Oh, I'm--I'm so sorry, Professor! I didn't think."

Ginny snickered. "Anybody have a Quick Quotes Quill? That's the only time you'll ever hear Hermione say that."

Remus fought a smile. Ginny Weasley was a great deal more like Ron and the twins than she was Percy. Sirius was right; Harry couldn't make a better match.

"Tell you what," said Rain, smiling. "Let's go up to my office for tea. Ginny, have you seen my dog yet?"

Ginny shook her head, a puzzled expression on her face, but Hermione clapped her hands delightedly. "Of course! What an excellent idea! Let's go!"

~*~

He couldn't, if asked, have explained why he was skulking about the teacher's wing in an against-regulations invisibility cloak on a Friday afternoon. There would be drinking and gambling back in the Slytherin dungeon, and Pansy had promised a bit more fun than that, if he wanted. (And of course he wanted, why wouldn't he? She might be a stupid tart, but she was curvy and he was fifteen.)

But instead he had carried that Weasley brat's books to the library, where he'd plunked them down in front of Granger and the Weasel, who glared at him until he left.

"Good night, Virginia," he'd said over his shoulder, in a drawl he imagined to be suggestive.

She'd gone red and said, "Goodbye, Malfoy," at which he'd sniggered and gone. But he ducked behind a statue of somebody the perpetually irritated and pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag. Then he'd hung about outside until they left, the Weasel for the Great Hall and the girls for Professor Lupin's classroom. And he'd followed.

He hadn't been able to hear anything of their conversation with the werewolf. He hadn't wanted to get close enough for Lupin to hear him outside. When they left Lupin's office, however, with Rain and Lupin, they were discussing a dog named Snuffles, Professor Rain's dog, apparently. Draco smirked. He hadn't known Rain was in Lupin's office, but based on some things his father had said, he could guess what had been going on in there.

Since he was curious about the dog anyway--he'd seen it grab Professor Snape's robes the other day--Draco followed them to Rain's office, down the corridor. When she opened the door, the dog came bounding out, which gave Draco plenty of time to edge around the crowd of idiot Gryffindors and into the office. Gleefully he perched on a windowseat and watched as they chased the animal back into the room, came in, and closed the door.

Lupin murmured a spell which Draco recognized; it warded against eavesdroppers. Rain looked at the Weasley girl.

"Ginny, have you heard Harry talk about his godfather?"

Draco wanted to laugh. Potter? Tell the girl anything? Everyone knew she was wasting her time on him. Ginny shook her head.

A low growl caught his attention, and he looked at the dog. It was staring straight at him, a menacing snarl on its face. He swallowed. Of course. Invisibility cloaks didn't mask scent. Damn it.

No one else seemed to notice the dog's behaviour. "Well, Harry's godfather was convicted of a crime he didn't commit. We're working to prove his innocence now, but it's a rough job. You can't reveal to anyone what you're about to learn."

Ginny nodded. The dog came closer to Draco, walking stiff-legged.

"Snuffles, you can transform now."

The dog didn't look away from Draco.

"Snuffles!" The Ravenclaw bint sounded exasperated. "Sirius!"

The dog's head swung to look at her. It heaved a sigh--and in its place stood a dodgy-looking man with longish black hair and a gaunt face. Draco gasped, then clapped his hands over his mouth.

Fortunately, Ginny Weasley's gasp masked his. "Sirius Black!" she cried in a low voice.

He nodded and extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Weasley."

She gulped, smiled, and shook his hand. "And you, sir."

His teeth flashed in a grin. "Call me Sirius."

~*~

Draco knew he should be writing a letter to his father. He knew Lucius wanted to get his hands on Sirius Black almost as much as the Ministry did. But his father never answered Draco's letters to say, "Well done, son." Instead his letters said things like, "Don't embarrass me or you'll regret it," or "Tell Parkinson her father is being watched."

After Ginny and Hermione had left Rain's office, saying they were going back to the library, Potty and the Weasel had shown up. Watching how Black was with Potter, how the criminal's eyes followed the boy's every move with a hungry pride, how he beamed at the Weasel, how Potter looked to Black for approval and received it--this had waked a hard, cold resentment in Draco, but it had also stirred something unexpected in him--yearning. Virginia's words came back to him--"Don't you have any friends?"

No. A Malfoy needs no friends, he had told Dumbledore. But somehow he hadn't been able to lie to the girl. He had no friends, but he wanted one desperately.

So half ten found him lurking outside Professor Snape's door, debating whether or not to knock. The light was on, and occasionally he could hear the sound of a turning page. He had been out there for ten minutes when Snape's voice surprised him.

"Whoever you are, why don't you knock and have done?" He sounded his usual peevish self. Draco knocked, then wished he had run instead.

The door swung slowly open and he went in. Snape looked up from his desk. Seeing Draco, he smiled.

"Well, if it isn't young Master Malfoy," he said, in as pleasant a tone as anyone ever heard from him. "To what do I owe this honour, Draco?"

Snape was teasing him, but Draco hadn't the nerves to appreciate it. "Sir," he blurted, already feeling the glow of his house head's forthcoming praise. "You'll never imagine whom I saw today!"

"I despise guessing games, Draco," Snape said, but gently (at least, for Snape).

Draco didn't care; he hadn't planned to allow him the time to guess. "Sirius Black is at Hogwarts! Here! He's Professor Rain's dog!"

Whatever reaction he had expected, it wasn't this. Snape's features didn't change expression, but he paled. He stared at Draco for a long time, gripping the edge of his desk with white-knuckled hands. Draco began to wish he could squirm uncomfortably in his chair. After a moment, he realized he wasn't with Lucius, and he could squirm. He did so, and then wished he had not.

"Who knows this?" Snape said finally, his voice very low.

Draco blinked. "No one. Well, practically. Only Potty and that Mudblood Granger, and the Weasel and his sister."

Snape relaxed fractionally, dismissing the "practically no one" with a smirk. "None of the Slytherins," he pressed.

Draco shook his head. "I only just saw him myself. You know how Professor Rain made me carry that little Mugglelover's books around?" At Snape's slight nod, he continued. "Well, I'd just left her in the library when she and Granger came stampeding out of there like the low-class hicks they are. I was bored, so I followed."

"They didn't notice you?" Snape seemed amused, but his face was grim.

Draco gulped. His father had said no one was to know about the invisibility cloak. "I--I was careful."

"Hmm."

"Anyway, they went to see the werewolf, and Rain was there, too." Draco started to smirk, then remembered what his father had hinted about Rain and Snape, and quickly wiped his face. "A minute later, they all came out of Lupin's office and went up to Rain's rooms. And that black dog changed into Sirius Black."

Snape was nodding slowly. He appeared to be deep in thought. He was still pale, but didn't seem particularly upset. Draco frowned.

"Sir? Don't you hate Sirius Black?"

The head of Slytherin House gave him a speculative look. "Oh, I do indeed, Draco. And--" He broke off and leaned forward to stare intently at him. "I am going to trust you with most important secrets." He leaned back and folded his hands in front of him. Draco felt a thrill of anticipation run through him. Lucius had said things which made Draco wonder why his father seemed to dislike Snape. Would Draco finally learn why?

"Sir?"

"You must understand, Draco, what I am about to entrust to you can never leave this room. I am placing the ultimate faith in you." He paused. "I know you are worthy."

A tendril of fear snaked into the anticipation. What was Snape going to tell him? What could he tell him that was this important? "You know you can trust me, Professor."

Snape smiled as if to say he had never doubted him, and folded his arms across his chest. "I knew Black was here." Draco opened his mouth, but Snape held up a hand, forestalling questions. "I am allowed to stay here only because I pretend to be Dumbledore's pawn," he continued. "Dumbledore, Lupin, even the Ministry, believe I am a tame snake." His mouth twisted as if those words were bitter. "Fools. None of them have ever grasped the real essence of Slytherin House."

Draco felt as though he should say something to that, but his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. He watched Snape in silence.

"I go to their meetings, I listen to their plans, and then when my master calls, I go and tell him everything. Voldemort wants Black dead, and he has promised me that kill. I am content to wait for the Dark Lord's timing. But Lucius--well." He smiled at Draco--a private smile, a warm smile. "You know as well as I do that Lucius can be...a trifle heavy-handed at times. It's why he was never as good at Potions as you are. I don't want Lucius to move too quickly and scare Black off before I get the opportunity I need."

Draco nodded and smirked as if he understood and appreciated everything Snape had said. In truth, his thoughts were awhirl. So Snape was acting the double agent? No wonder Lucius had told Draco to watch him! But...it sounded as though Snape had truly chosen one side.

Yet if that were the case, he would have been better off if he'd simply told Lucius he was on their side. Then again, perhaps Snape was simply becoming too important to Voldemort, someone who posed a threat to the Malfoy position at Voldemort's right hand. But Snape was still speaking.

"It's a dangerous position to be in, of course. The ones I betray will try to kill me in the end. Perhaps they will even succeed." Privately, Draco agreed; his Head of House was likely a marked man. Snape's gaze sharpened, became measuring. "You're a clever young man, Draco. Ambitious, tricky, quick-witted--all the things Voldemort admires. I know you probably can't wait until you leave school and join the fight."

Well, yes, he could wait, actually, but Draco didn't see any point in mentioning it.

"I could use a protégé. Someone who would learn my secrets, meet my connections and gain their trust. Someone who could step into my place if I were...removed. Someone who would be equally indispensable to whichever side he chose to aid."

Draco felt his pulse quicken. "Are you--do you mean--"

"Who else?" Snape smiled. "You're the best student I have. You're a prefect and a likely candidate for Head Boy. Who better to take over for me if I am gone?"

Draco tried to contain his smile, to keep the corners of his mouth straight, but even the years of his father's training couldn't restrain his pleasure at being so highly complimented by his Head of House.

"Thank you, sir! I'm sure I won't fail you!"

Snape nodded and held out a hand, and they shook. As easily as that, they had reached an agreement. As the professor released his hand, Draco felt the bargain seal; this was a wizard's agreement, and it would be kept. An icicle of fear slid down his spine, but he didn't shiver. It was too late now.

Snape stood. "The first thing to do is introduce you to Black. You'll have to make him trust you. Lupin will be of use to you there; the fool is always willing to believe the best of someone. We'll get him on your side." He smirked. "Come along, Draco. And remember, whatever happens, you can always trust me."

Draco stood up, too. He could trust Professor Snape, he knew. There were so many things Snape had covered over from Draco's father. He had allowed Draco to do extra work to keep his high marks in Potions; he had had a word with Flitwick that time Draco was injured in Third Year; he had said nothing of Draco's flirtations with girls of other houses.

While they waited for Professor Rain to open the door, Draco stood completely still, slouching in what he hoped looked like easy confidence. Snape tapped quietly, yet there seemed to be no hesitation in his manner. He was completely self-possessed, no matter what happened around him. He always had been. Draco had always envied this.

When Rain did open the door, she looked surprised. "Severus? It's a bit late for social calls."

"Spare me the sarcasm, Katraina. You know Mister Malfoy."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Oh, yes. Come in, Draco, Severus." She stood aside to let them enter.

The black dog was curled on the hearth. When they entered, it glanced at Severus, then put its head down again. A moment later it lifted its head again and stared straight at Draco, its head cocked to one side.

Shit! The dog recognized Draco's scent. He tried to ignore it and focus on Snape. It was important to dupe Dumbledore's followers into believing them.

"--and Draco has expressed a desire to aid our efforts."

"Really," Rain said, her voice noncommittal. "And he has sworn to secrecy?" The look in her eyes was a challenge. She seemed intrigued, skeptical, amused.

The amusement stung. Did she think he couldn't be trusted? Honour, she had said before. Well, he'd show her honour. "I swear by my name and my ancestors that I won't betray you, or may my wand be broken and my name struck from the book." Oops. That was a stronger oath than he had meant to use. And there was absolutely no wiggle room in an oath like that.

Rain and Snape were both staring at him, Rain with astonishment--or horror?--Snape with an unreadable expression. But the dog, to Draco's surprise, put his nose against Draco's hand, then looked up at Rain.

She sighed. "Very well, Sirius."

An instant later the black dog was gone and Sirius Black was looking down at him. "So this is Malfoy's get," he said, his voice a growl.

"This is Draco Malfoy," Rain replied, her expression stern. "He is Severus' best student, and one of our fifth-year Prefects."

Black was inspecting Draco with piercing eyes. He held out a hand. "Name's Black. Sirius Black." His voice was still a growl, and Draco wondered if he just always sounded so much like a dog.

"I know who you are," Draco replied. "My father--" But he stopped, because his father wasn't here, was he? Draco had moved beyond Lucius, had taken this step on his own. Besides, Rain didn't give a damn what his father thought. He grasped Black's hand firmly in his own. "I've read about you in the papers." He saw Snape give him an odd look.

"I've seen you play Quidditch," Black said, surprising him. "You've got a lot of talent, Malfoy."

Draco stared at him. What did he want? "Thanks," he said, knowing he sounded insolent.

"I've heard a lot about you, from Harry, and Rain here, and Arabella."

"Who?" Draco asked, surprised.

"Oh, perhaps it wasn't Arabella. She seemed to think one of her cats had taken to you, though."

"I don't know what you're on about," Draco said carelessly, though a nagging in the back of his head suggested that might not be entirely true.

"Ah. My mistake." Black looked at Snape. "So. We have a Malfoy on our side, then. That helps us, but it puts you in a bit of a fix, doesn't it? Then again, I daresay you're used to that."

Snape grimaced. "Mind your own concerns, Black. Fudge isn't going to set a Dementor on me if he sees me."

Black grimaced in his turn. "You were upset about Barty Crouch. It's sad to think you relish the idea of a Dementor kissing me. After all, I'm your ally."

Snape looked at him coolly for a moment, then said, "Ally?"

Black snorted and turned away, but Rain stayed him with a hand on his arm. She turned and touched Severus, too; Draco thought the Potions Master flinched.

"Please," Rain said. "Please. You are both capable of civility. Can't we put our differences aside?"

Draco stared at her, but both men nodded obediently. Satisfied, she turned to smile at him. "I'm so glad you've joined us, Draco. We can use your help."

"I won't betray my father, if that's what you think!" he burst out. Then he bit his lips shut, face burning.

Her smile didn't waver. "I would never ask that, Draco. Never."

~*~