Professor Lupin's Apprentice

XXI: The Wedding, and Back to School

I'd never got married before, so I have nothing to which I can compare the feeling I had when I walked down the aisle on Professor Dumbledore's arm. All I can say is, without a doubt, that was one of the happiest days of my life. Everyone in the church beamed at me, including Sirius in his Professor Snape disguise, and my face positively ached from grinning before the day was done. Remus had never looked more handsome, and I don't think I've ever looked or felt more beautiful. I cried all over my Victorian gown, of course, as did Hermione. I only thank God for waterproof mascara. The ceremony was just long enough for the female guests to need copious amounts of tissue, but not long enough for the male guests to become bored.

Our guests no doubt thought it odd that the groom was snapping away photos of one among their number in the first row. The several good shots of Harry's reaction to Sirius' disguise, however, were quite worth the other guests' reactions. We'd let Ron in on the joke the night before. Although they do move, wizarding photos make no sound. Nevertheless, one can quite clearly make out Harry mouthing, "What the (expletive removed) is he doing here?!?" Then there are two lovely shots taken shortly thereafter of Ron whispering in Harry's ear and Harry looking much relieved. The last—my personal favourite—is of Sirius as Snape doubled over in laughter.

When the professional photographer had taken his lot pictures after the ceremony, the guests queued up to kiss the bride. Professor Dumbledore, once he'd pecked my cheek and shook Remus' hand, quietly muttered "Interesting choice, Sirius," to the figure of Professor Snape. Afterward, the guests adjourned to the boarding house for the reception. If anyone thought the lack of fine silverware tacky, they didn't show that. I personally didn't care very much if they did. Hermione caught the bouquet, and Harry caught the garter. I'm not sure what that means, if anything, but Remus and I chuckled about that for months afterward. We're still convinced they would make a lovely couple.

The festivities carried on until the wee hours. "Professor Snape" curiously had to visit the loo every hour on the hour for the benefit of the Muggles present, who would undoubtedly remember Sirius Black from news broadcasts on the telly. The Weasleys, after giving Ron an embarrassing amount of affection, politely took their leave before teatime, and the elder Lupins also left not long after that. The headmaster, Professor McGonagall and Hagrid stayed until we took the party upstairs after nine, when Sirius dispensed with the Polyjuice Potion. Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher, being old friends of both Sirius and Remus, stayed until quite late.

Our wedding night might not have been the pinnacle of romance but, as we had been living together for almost a year prior to the ceremony, consummating the marriage was not the highest act on our list of priorities. Remus was much more interested in visiting with his old friends. I would never deny him that particular pleasure, especially since I liked all of his friends a great deal.

Despite the animated conversation taking place around them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all dropped off on the sitting room floor between midnight and two, and I covered them with blankets in my typical motherly way. When Arabella and Mundungus finally left, and Sirius fell asleep on the couch, Remus and I fell into bed, too exhausted to think of anything other than sleep, at around five Sunday morning. After breakfast at noon, Sirius unfortunately had to leave us for an unknown period, but he promised he would keep in touch by owl.

The fall term at Hogwarts started the following Wednesday and, by Halloween, I was fairly certain I was pregnant. I saw Madam Pomfrey first, but she suggested I seek a second opinion, as pregnancy was not something with which she normally dealt among Hogwarts students. After seeing my regular Muggle physician, the good news was confirmed. To say Remus was ecstatic would be a horrid understatement, but I cannot think of any more fitting description. For several days, it seemed he wanted to do nothing other than nuzzle or talk to my belly. He also began to fuss over me with more fervour than I had ever shown at my absolute worst in caring for him.

Life was not all pleasant, however. During my next two terms at Hogwarts, Professor Snape was as good as his word. The drop in my marks alone would never have bothered me. Unfortunately for me, Snape had an acerbically sharp wit, and his gibes cut me deeply. More often than not, Harry, Ron and Hermione found me sulking after Potions.

Whilst the Slytherins were in hysterics, I occasionally caught the faintest hint of regret in Snape's eyes. When I dared meet his gaze, however, he always looked away. But the brief show of remorse, along with remembering the difficulty of his position, allowed me to endure. Only once was I wounded enough to cry, in late spring after the return of our third exam of term, although the remarks started innocuously enough.

"Mrs Lupin appears to be slipping," Snape said with a sneer as he placed the roll of parchment on the desk in front of me. "Finally allowed Jones and Roddington to pull ahead of you, Mrs Lupin ... I told the headmaster I thought it was a bad idea to allow married students to attend Hogwarts."

As Snape continued to pass out exams, I set my jaw and steeled myself, since I suspected he wasn't finished with me yet. After all, the Slytherins were only tittering at this point.

"If you spent more time on your studies, and less time in the boudoir with your husband, I imagine you would be able to keep up."

Slytherin students were openly laughing now but, even though I felt as if steam were coming out my ears, I merely stared at my desk.

"Perhaps you could prop open your book on Mr Lupin's chest," Snape continued, his deep baritone as smooth as silk sliding over satin, "or convince him to read over your shoulder."

I jumped from my chair—as well as I could, being seven months pregnant—glaring at him. Snape stared directly into my eyes, leaning against his desk. He reached behind him and retrieved his copy of our Potions text from off his desk without ever taking his eyes off me.

"Your husband might appreciate the change of scenery." He lifted the Potions text, apparently comparing the hag on the cover to me. "This would indeed be rather a pleasant alternative."

The Slytherins clutched their sides and rolled in the aisles between their desks. All the Gryffindors scowled at our Potions master on my behalf. Snape, however, never removed his searing gaze from me. When he dropped his book on the desk with a loud bang, the torrent of my tears began. This time I saw no guilt in his eyes, although his shoulders slumped somewhat as he began to write on the chalkboard. I turned and ran from the dungeon.

I'm not completely certain the tears that day weren't due to the constant hormonal flux my body was experiencing. But being told I was uglier than a hag by a former friend—especially when my growing belly made me feel less attractive by the hour—proved far too much to deal with. Thankfully, I didn't have to bear it alone. As I emerged from the stairwell down to the dungeon, I ran headlong into Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had a break this hour.

"What's wrong, Wart?" Hermione asked, stunned.

"Professor Snape," was all I could manage to say between sobs.

The three of them led me outside and toward the lake, where, when they had managed to calm me down, I explained all the details of my morning in Potions.

"I would love to kill that—" Ron began.

"Ron!" Hermione interjected sharply, anticipating a colourful but unflattering noun's issuing from Ron's mouth.

"That's sweet of you, Ron, but I'll survive," I said, with a hand on his shoulder. "After all, they were only words ... although I don't understand why he felt it necessary to get so ... personal. Especially in front of the other second years. I mean, they're children, for heaven's sake, and here he is talking about my sex life in class."

"Wart, I think it's rather obvious you have sex with your husband," Harry said, with a smirk and a glance at my tummy.

"Yes, Harry, I know it's obvious," I said, shoving him by his brow until he toppled backward on the grass. "But it still seemed ... unprofessional ... of him. Even though he may be a nasty sort, you cannot deny he's always professional. I wouldn't expect him to ... talk like that ... in front of children."

"Perhaps he's jealous," Hermione suggested. "Has he ever shown any signs of...?"

"He kissed me once," I said offhandedly, shrugging. All three of them shuddered and made disgusted noises. "But that was a long time ago. Remus and I were trying to make him think we'd parted ways. He saw through our ruse, but he was extremely apologetic when he'd learnt we were engaged."

Harry and Ron were pretending to vomit, when Hermione leant in close and whispered, "How was he?"

"Not bad, actually," I whispered in reply.

"Well, he's probably still not over you," she announced with more volume. "And your pregnancy would only make him feel worse, wouldn't it? A physical reminder that Moony has you, and he never will."

"You may be right, Herm," I said, rubbing my stomach as pregnant women are wont to do without thinking about the gesture. "But why would he wait until today? I've been showing for a couple of months now."

All three of them shrugged.

"Well, you're having lunch with us today," Harry said. "Maybe we can sort this out."

I nodded and they helped me to my feet so we could be off to our next class. Two hours later, I stepped into the Great Hall, looking for the three of them. I could feel Professor Snape's black eyes fixed on me from the staff table, but my apprehension cleared as Ron waved from the Gryffindor table. For the last few months, I had been Flooing home for lunch with Remus everyday. Now I was further along in my pregnancy, I had trouble with the benches. I sat with some difficulty and started to eat. We talked for most of lunch about Snape's possible motivation, in the end coming up with nothing more than we'd deduced that morning by the lake.

"It was rude and crass and quite unworthy of him," I said. "I've always tried to give Professor Snape the benefit of the doubt, but after today—" The children's eyes had been growing rounder and rounder as I spoke, and I broke off when I realised why. "He's behind me, isn't he?"

Three heads nodded slowly.

"Mrs Lupin, may I see you in my office?" I remembered that tone. That was his commanding question tone. "After you've finished your ... considerable ... lunch, that is." The warmth near my shoulder told me he was craning his neck to have a better view of my plate.

"Why?" Harry asked impertinently. "Because she still has a shred of dignity left?"

"That will be five points from Gryffindor, Potter," Snape said. "Would you care to make it ten?"

Harry said nothing else, wisely choosing to seethe silently instead.

"We must discuss your detention," Snape continued silkily, "for bolting from the dungeon this morning."

"After the things you said to her?" Hermione retorted.

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Snape replied pleasantly. "Moving Gryffindor further from the House Cup is by far my favourite dessert. Another five points."

"Stop," I whispered, looking pleadingly at each of their faces in turn. "I am fully capable of fighting my own battles."

"But, Wart—?" Ron began.

I silenced him with a motherly look. "I'll be along to the dungeons directly after I've finished, Professor Snape."

"I will expect you no later than a quarter of one," Snape replied. A swish of robes indicated he turned to leave, rather quickly.

"And you used to be friends with him ... why?" Harry asked, shrugging, palms outstretched.

"Once upon a time, I thought he was nice," I said with a sigh.

"Had to be a Confundus Charm," Ron muttered, staring into his soup.

My legs wobbled when I descended the steps to the dungeon a few minutes later. I had recovered the majority of my composure, but I was by no means looking forward to round two. After not seeing Professor Snape in the classroom, I walked toward his office door as bravely as I could. When I knocked on the open door, he looked up from his desk impassively.

"Don't dawdle," he said with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Come in and close the door." The second the latch clicked, he stood. "Oh, Melinda, I'm sorry!" He rushed toward me with one hand extended in my direction and the other on his chest. "I never meant to make you cry. I thought you understood that this was all an act."

"Very convincing performance," I said, burying my face in my hands, sobbing again. So much for my composure. Snape put his arm about my shoulders, leading me to a chair. He offered me a handkerchief once I was seated. "You ... you didn't mean all those awful things?"

"No! Of course not!" He knelt by the chair, his arm still around me, as I wiped my eyes. "I think you're a bright, lovely woman. Nevertheless, I have been under rather a lot of pressure of late, among certain Death Eaters. I thought—if I were to step up my insults—I might finally get them off my back and draw suspicions off you. I even thought for half a heartbeat you were acting as well. Your reaction could not have been more perfect."

"Those tears were completely genuine. But ... but I'm not sure it isn't ... Well, pregnancy does have a tendency to make one overemotional."

His black eyes showed both the warmth of affection and regret. "I heartily apologise."

"Apology accepted, Severus ... What is it the Death Eaters suspect about me?"

"Well, not so much about you ... But they know your husband is an unofficial Auror, and they know in the past I've given you entirely too much help outside of class."

"Are you in danger?"

"I don't believe so. Not after today. Again, I am so sorry."

"What about Remus? Is he in any danger?"

"Not that I know of. He is fairly well hidden, isn't he? To all appearances, a Muggle businessman? Not a bad disguise for a wizard ... or a werewolf. But I shouldn't worry about him. Lupin is fully capable of looking after himself."

"I think that is the nicest thing I've ever heard you say about him, Severus."

He shrugged and I smiled.

"I knew he couldn't be all bad—not if you love him," Snape added. "Brace yourself, because I'm about to sing his praises a little more. We are fortunate to have him on our side. I'd never thought about why before you and I became friends, but Lupin's immune to the Killing Curse."

"Avada Kedavra?" I asked in a whisper.

He nodded. "While that curse will put him out of commission for several weeks, it's not silver, you see, so it won't kill him. Death Eaters who don't know ... his secret ... have been surprised to see him take that curse more than once."

"He's been attacked with it before?"

"At least three times I know of. Potter may be famous as the 'boy who lived,' but I've heard Lupin referred to as 'the wizard who wouldn't die'."

My jaw dropped. "They've never put together why?"

He shook his head. "And thankfully, I never realised that fact when I was serving the Dark Lord in earnest, or I would have said so."

"Remus owes you his life, Severus."

"No, Melinda. Lupin owes his life to the werewolf who attacked him."

"How is that for irony?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Right up there with the Dark Lord being a Mudblood," Snape said, smirking.

"That must be why Dumbledore wanted Remus to guard me."

"I imagine so. Melinda, even though I feel dreadful about making you cry, I am rather glad you stormed out of the dungeon this morning. I've been wanting to talk to you, but I wasn't sure how I could arrange that without arousing any more suspicion."

"Well, what about my detention?" I asked.

"Come back tonight at seven to prepare the potion you've missed today," he answered, standing and patting my arm. "And bring Lupin. I have some information for him. I've informed the headmaster already, but Dumbledore wants me to personally pass this on to him. We'll talk tonight whilst you work."

I stood, nodding, and gave him a quick hug. "This has been far more difficult than I thought it would be."

"Likewise," he said, nodding sadly. "I've so missed our talks ... Now, if you'd care to wash your face before you leave?" He directed me to a washbasin in the corner. "Interesting disguise Black chose for your wedding," he added nonchalantly, as I began to wash my face.

I turned suddenly, stammering. "S-s-s-everus, I—I'm—I'm s-sorry."

"You mistake me, Melinda," he said, smiling. "I'm not angry. I thought it quite clever. I expect Potter was taken aback."

"To say the least. That hasn't caused you any trouble, has it?" I asked, suddenly concerned.

"No," he said, raising a hand and shaking his head. "I didn't hear of it from Death Eaters. The headmaster told me." His brow furrowed. "How did you ... how did you procure the hairs?"

My modesty prevented me from looking him in the eye, so I concentrated on washing my face. "The day my Wolfsbane Potion first worked..."

His eyes grew wide, and he turned orange. "Oh! I'd quite forgotten that. You must have been covered—"

"We found ten hairs we were fairly sure belonged to you."

"Ah," he said, smiling and nodding. "Congratulations, by the way. When are you due?"

"The sixteenth of June."

He cocked an eyebrow. "That's a full moon, if I'm not mistaken."

"Unfortunately," I said with a loud sigh, drying my face. "So the baby is almost guaranteed to be on time."

"Do you think you can manage labour alone?"

"Actually, I won't have to. We imagined Remus wouldn't be able to make the birth, so Harry volunteered to be my Lamaze coach."

"Potter?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Yes," I said, smiling. "He's very mature for seventeen. And he's also going to be the godfather, so it's fitting, don't you think?"

"I suppose so." As Snape opened his office door to usher me out, his manner reverted. "Seven sharp, Mrs Lupin. If you are late, I will deduct fifty points from Gryffindor House without a second thought. Mind you don't flee my class again unless you are headed for the hospital wing."

"Yes, Professor Snape," I said meekly, although I couldn't repress a touch of a smile once I was on my way to my next class.