Be All My Secrets Remembered

La Reine Noire

Story Summary:
'Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.' Spanning from spring of 1976 through the fateful Halloween night of 1981, the adventures and misadventures of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, and their contemporaries, particularly those belonging to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, Toujours Dysfunctional. Warnings: contains dark thematic material, violence, innuendo, as many literary references as can be managed, and very mild slash.

Chapter 24 - A Thousand Words

Chapter Summary:
Wherein Snape gets an unexpected lesson in public relations and learns some interesting information about Agrippa. The Order of the Phoenix meets for the first time, and is there documented. Remus surprises himself, much to Peter’s amusement. Sirius and Dorcas capture a fleeting moment.
Posted:
07/14/2005
Hits:
1,837
Author's Note:
Apologies for the delay. RL intervened. Thanks to everyone for your patience, and to my lovely betas for bearing with me.


Chapter Twenty-Four: A Thousand Words

November 1978

Severus Snape was quite certain that Professor Johann Faust would have been a Slytherin, had he attended Hogwarts. Within two days of his arrival in Wittenberg, he had managed to extract most of Severus' opinions on everything from boomslang skin to James Potter, all without Severus even noticing until several hours later. When he voiced his suspicions, Professor Faust merely shrugged his transparent shoulders.

"Perhaps it is easier to speak with a ghost,” he suggested. "People do tend to forget we're here. You should know this. After all, you did tell me about...what was his name? Your History of Magic professor?"

"Binns," Snape supplied. "Although he's utterly boring, and you're certainly not. All he ever did was drone on for hours. He never even noticed when his students fell asleep."

"I am flattered that you think better of me, Severus, although one might say all I ever do is drone on for hours, as I can no longer brew potions on my own. Of course, I always preferred theory." He pointed across the room to a dust-draped set of jars. "Third one on the left."

Severus obeyed quickly, stifling a sneeze as the jostled dust snaked into his nose. He could not have judged how accurate any of Faust's more esoteric theories were, but the man certainly knew how to hold a room's attention. And if there were, in fact, werewolves in India and Tibet who had meditated their way into controlling their own lycanthropy, rather than resorting to potion-selling quacks, so be it. Severus had to admit to some degree of curiosity regarding that particular tale, given Agrippa's interests of late. He made his way back across the room, the jar held as gingerly as possible, given that it contained what appeared to be scarab beetles.

"Freshly caught, they told me," Professor Faust declared, as if having read his mind. "Barely sixty years old." Severus raised his eyebrows, but refrained from remarking that sixty years was rather a long time. "You received a letter today," the Professor spoke up, as he peered into the jar. "A very large seal on the front."

"Thank you, Professor." It was from Malfoy, naturally. He and Agrippa were the only correspondents Severus had, in truth. Rosier occasionally penned a note, if there had been any particularly interesting Death Eater raids, but more often than not, he simply forgot. And his father never saw a need to write to him these days, although Severus suspected rather cynically that he might well have done, had Severus chosen a more lucrative profession.

"It is my opinion that anyone who insists upon a seal that large is compensating rather greatly for something."

Severus smiled unexpectedly. "You'd not say so if you'd seen his wife."

"It would not matter. I have seen the most beautiful woman in the world, and I assure you that unless something very odd is going on, your friend's wife is not that woman." He pointed at a beetle whose markings were brighter than the rest. "This one."

Severus opened the jar and pulled out the beetle, slamming the lid down before any others could escape. He dropped the struggling creature into the cauldron and golden smoke belched upward. "I suppose it depends on the point of view," he allowed.

"There is no question of point of view in this particular case," Faust refuted calmly. "Helen of Troy was the most beautiful woman in the world, no?"

In all of his new colleagues' warnings about Professor Faust's rather infamous rants, nobody had offered any suggestions as to how to deal with them when they did crop up. Severus, at a loss, concentrated his full attention on the potion.

"You do not believe me."

"Helen of Troy never existed," Severus pointed out.

"And, according to Muggles, wizards and magic do not exist. Point of view, Severus! Point of view!" he pronounced, wagging one spectral finger. "You were the one citing it before, and now you forget it. You must think!"

"I am thinking," he refuted, baffled.

"According to Muggles, I do not exist. I am but a character, be he in a play or a treatise or a novel." The fact that Faust's eyes were meeting his would have been considerably less disturbing if he hadn't been floating in front of the flames in the nearby stained-glass window. "Would you agree?"

"I'm not a Muggle."

"But don't you see, Severus, everything they wrote about me was true!" He paused. "Well, except for the bit where I was dragged down to Hell, but the two months I spent living with my grandmother after that incident were certainly close..."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Sir, with all due respect..."

"What? Severus, you are a bright boy. Why do you not see what is directly in front of you?"

"What? A dead beetle?" He began to stir the concoction, wincing as his fingers accidentally brushed the edge of the cauldron.

"No, Severus, that one's image is what one makes of it. Why do you think they don't hound me for my secrets they way they did poor Paracelsus? Because I frighten them. Why do you think they leave Agrippa alone? He and Paracelsus were taught by the same man, after all. Why?" he reiterated. Severus just stared. "Because Agrippa has made his reputation on telling nobody anything. Lord knows how much time I spent trying to ferret out whatever it was he and Flamel worked on in Antwerp all those years ago, but no, he wouldn't tell me a thing."

"Flamel?" That caught Severus' attention. "From Reims?"

"Now there's another man with a reputation for being close-mouthed. Your former Headmaster was his last proper associate. He and Agrippa still talk, I'm sure, but they've not worked together for some time. Since Agrippa started teaching properly. Nicolas never cared much for teaching," he observed. "Always research with him. Nowadays, of course, with things being the way they are..."

"What do you mean, sir?" Severus asked cautiously.

"That mad wizard of yours, Vol-au-vent or whatever his name is. Rumour has it he spent years searching for the recipe for immortality." He snorted. "Surely he could have been more original than that. Everyone's searched for immortality at one point or another. Even I did, when it amused me to do so. But you see where that kind of thing takes you."

"But don't the legends claim you were made immortal too?" challenged Severus. "And didn't you say they had everything right."

"Of course not! They never claimed I was immortal. How on earth was Satan to claim my soul if I never died? Use your head, boy!" Snape bit back the desire to protest, thankful when Faust continued. "No, immortality was Flamel's dream, not mine. I wanted power and knowledge of all kinds, and Agrippa wanted to understand the roots of magic. Potion-making is the least ‘magical', as it were, of the arts in our world. Not a waving wand in sight, and yet, they can do so much."

Severus realised belatedly that he was staring, and that any sharp retort he might have wanted to make had since vanished. His N.E.W.T. marks had arrived at Malfoy Manor a few days before his departure for Wittenberg, and alongside the unsurprising O in Potions, he had received one in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes, much to his satisfaction. In spite of his propensity for nasty hexes, he had always preferred subjects that hadn't required wands or incantations.

"I fear for Henrich," Professor Faust was saying, and Severus snapped to attention, feeling the heat rise in his neck at having been caught daydreaming.

That was when the words caught up with him. "Why? What's wrong?"

Faust shook his head. "He knows too much, Severus. He always did. Everyone has chased him at some point. The Pope, the Elector, the Chancellor, several kings...then he went to Hogwarts and most people forgot. But this Vol-au-vent...if what Professor Dumbledore tells me is true, even he was a student once. And Heinrich did always love teaching, sometimes to his detriment. There are things that one ought not teach the very young."

"Like what?" Severus prompted. "I assume you mean the Dark Arts?"

"Point of view again, Severus," warned Faust. "The potion you are now brewing, that might arguably be considered Dark. And yet you still brew it under my supervision. And what of the one Heinrich told me about, that you brewed in your sixth year? Discordia Venere, I believe it was?"

Severus averted his eyes, squinting against the smoke from the cauldron. "What of it?"

"Binding, Severus. That has always been classified as Dark, regardless of intent. But would you call it evil, what you did?"

"Others did."

"Others do not concern me, Severus. What did you think?"

"It was for the best," he replied shortly, unwilling to say any more.

"There you have it, then. If all things that could theoretically be used for ill were classified Dark Magic, there would be no magic at all." Faust shrugged. "That is why the Muggles hunted witches for so many years. They fear what they do not understand."

"Then you think the---You-Know-Who isn't to be feared?" Severus cursed inwardly for the near-slip. He had grown so used to the other title, between Rosier and Malfoy. "Most people would argue with you."

"I'm dead, Severus. What on earth have I to fear from anyone? You, on the other hand..."

Severus averted his eyes, concentrating on stirring counter-clockwise.

"Heinrich worries about you."

"He needn't," Severus replied, as coolly as he could. "I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"I doubt that it is stupidity that worries him, Severus."

In spite of Severus' enquiring look, he said nothing more on the subject.

***

James had been the first to receive a letter, which surprised nobody at all. Dumbledore's swooping script named a time and place, and requested that the recipient destroy all traces once he had committed them to memory. Or so he explained to Remus when he arrived at the house on a surprisingly sunny morning in November.

"I take it this is that mysterious organisation he told you about?" Remus asked.

"Precisely that," James confirmed. "The Order of the Phoenix, or so it's called."

"Nice name."

"I thought so." That was when Lily entered the room, her cheeks pink and her hair hanging damply over her shoulders. "Lil, I was wondering when you'd leave the shower."

Remus' brows arched slightly as he glanced between them, and Lily's blush deepened. "James Potter, you simply don't understand, do you?"

"No, I don't. Nothing happened."

"What do you mean, nothing happened? I woke up this morning to find your mother staring at the two of us as though she'd seen a ghost! You told me they were in Brighton!"

"They were in Brighton!" James protested. "How was I to know they'd reappear this morning?"

"Oh my goodness, does this mean Prongs' reputation as the innocent son has been ruined?" That was Sirius' voice, rife with laughter, from the doorway. "Don't worry, Lil. Prongs' mum didn't give me anything more than a few short remarks about being careful."

"You're not her son," Lily told him. "I shudder to think what she thinks of me now. She probably thinks I'm a hussy."

"She thinks nothing of the sort," James assured her. "For one thing, I won't let her. You're not a hussy, and it would take an idiot to even consider that."

"You are, however, the irresistible temptress who has deflowered her darling Jamie---Ow!" He threw Lily a pained look. "You didn't need to hit me that hard."

"Oh yes, I did."

"And if you call me that one more time, I will lace your drink with Shrinking Solution," growled James. "Meadowes will leave you for someone better equipped."

"I truly didn't need to hear that," Remus announced to the room at large. "Is she coming?"

Sirius nodded. "She just insisted on picking up something dessert-ish from a rather nice Muggle bakery on the way. She'll be here any minute."

"On the way from where?" Lily asked, frowning.

"Cambridge." He took several steps backward before adding, "Where we weren't caught by her parents."

Lily grabbed the rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet lying on a nearby table and began to chase him around the room.

"Ah, maturity," Dorcas' voice announced from the doorway, "thy name is Sirius Black."

"You wouldn't like me nearly as much if I were mature, and you know it," he retorted, having managed to snatch the newspaper and hold it just high enough above Lily's head that she couldn't reach it.

Dorcas laughed. "If it's any consolation, love, my mother and I have no secrets from one another."

Mollified by Sirius' look of horror, Lily stepped back. Remus, whose stomach was growling rather pitifully, did his level best to keep from eyeing the smartly wrapped box in Dorcas' hands, the one that presumably contained ‘something dessert-ish'. It was barely a day or two after the full moon, which always left him perpetually ravenous.

"Should I have Mopsy bring you something to eat, Moony?" He looked up to find James grinning at him. "If looks could eat, you'd have got through that by now."

"That'd be great, Prongs. Cheers." He actually felt marginally better as James murmured something to Mopsy, and the house-elf hurried off. "So, what time are we meant to be there?"

"He's got a point," Dorcas put in. "I'll want to put this someplace cooler if it's to be more than a half-hour or so."

"Whenever Wormtail arrives," James said. "He said he had to drop something at the office, and he'd be directly over once he'd finished there. He should be showing up sooner or later."

She shrugged. "So be it, then. And Remus, dear, you can have some when we get there."

"I can smell it," he said, a trifle plaintively. Thankfully, Mopsy returned with a plate of Cauldron Cakes and a cup of tea, all of which Remus devoured within about a minute. He glanced up to find everyone studying him, Sirius and James with obvious amusement, and Lily and Dorcas with airs of slight bafflement.

Peter arrived a few minutes later, and James announced--in what Sirius referred to as his Insufferable Head Boy voice--that they were Flooing to a pub in a small village not too far from Inverness. From there, they would walk to the McKinnons' house, situated on the edge of the village.

"All that ceremony for this," muttered Sirius to Remus, with less annoyance than amusement. "Although now we know where Professor McKinnon lives, whatever that means."

Remus merely shrugged, and followed James and Lily into the fireplace.

***

The McKinnon house was, in fact, far larger than Remus had expected, given the professions of its owners. Of course, it was entirely possible they had inherited the place. From what he presumed was the back garden, he could hear high-pitched laughter and shrieks.

"They've brought children?" he asked aloud. Sirius, who had just wandered up beside him, shrugged expansively. "This doesn't seem particularly child-friendly if you ask me."

"Professor McKinnon has three children, at least that's what I recall. Maybe someone else brought their own to keep his occupied," Sirius suggested.

A blonde woman of medium height opened the door with a gracious smile. "My, but there's a crowd of you, isn't there?"

James returned the smile, albeit sheepishly. "Yeah, we like to travel in packs. Mrs McKinnon?"

"Call me Marlene," she told him airily. "Well, I think you're the last ones, so..." Pointing her wand over their heads, she murmured an incantation, most likely some kind of Repelling Charm. "Do go on into the garden. Everyone's waiting, and we're hoping someone will help us finish all that food."

Remus perked instantly, causing his friends to snicker. "You'll wish you hadn't said that," Peter remarked. "I'm Peter Pettigrew, by the way."

They introduced themselves in turn, and Mrs McKinnon--Remus simply couldn't think of his former professor's wife as ‘Marlene'--shooed them into the back garden, although not before remarking that she recognised all their names from her husband's numerous accounts of his Defence Against the Dark Arts classes.

There were, in fact, no less than five children present, three of whom were taking rides on Hagrid's back. Remus noted with some trepidation that the half-giant came dangerously close to trampling one of the other two in the midst of playing an overly exuberant game of ‘horsie'. Thankfully, Professor McKinnon noticed as well, reaching down to lift the little girl and seat her on a nearby wall.

No sooner did Remus catch sight of Dumbledore on the opposite side of the garden, than his former Headmaster clapped his hands and called for attention.

The speech was a short one, as Dumbledore's tended to be, introducing their hosts and some of the more illustrious members of the so-called Order of the Phoenix. Even Remus was impressed, noting the presence of no less than Chief Auror Alastor Moody, and Edgar Bones, a rising star in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, alongside Professor McKinnon and his wife. In fact, the gathering seemed peppered with Aurors or Aurors-in-training. He recognised Frank Longbottom, who had left Hogwarts at the end of their fourth year to join the Auror training programme, along with his now-fiancée, Alice Prewett, elder sister of the twins.

So caught up was he in trying to identify various people that he missed the end of the speech, returning to reality at the sound of applause all around him. Nobody seemed to have noticed his little foray into daydream, thankfully. If James or Sirius had, he'd never have heard the end of it.

"...if you would all be so kind as to turn around and face the house, Miss Lydia McKinnon has requested a photograph."

Jolted once again to attention, Remus turned with the rest of the crowd. From one of the upstairs windows, the elder of the McKinnon girls, aged about ten, Remus suspected, held up a camera. "Everybody smile!" she commanded.

A blinding flash and a puff of purple smoke emerged from the camera, and Remus blinked to clear his vision. He could hear Alastor Moody's gruff voice requesting a copy of the photograph from Professor McKinnon, and frowned in some surprise. He'd not expected something like that from the legendarily intimidating Chief Auror.

The party progressed in a relatively uneventful fashion, more an introductory meeting than anything else. He supposed he should have suspected as much. Things like this simply didn't materialise out of nowhere. And, he had to admit, there was some small amount of relief. He hadn't relished the idea of his first introduction to the Order of the Phoenix being some sort of operation against the Death Eaters. "Not quite ready for that," he muttered to himself.

"What did you say, Moony?" It was Peter, who had settled on a nearby lawn chair with a glass of punch in one hand and a plate of food in the other. "You're disappointing. I thought you'd planned to eat the McKinnons out of house and home."

"I'm being sneaky," Remus informed him, straight-faced. "I'm waiting until they least expect it, and look! Stubby Boardman!"

"Where?"

When Peter glanced over his shoulder, Remus snatched away the plate.

"You bastard," muttered the blond man.

"Oh come now, did you honestly expect me to ignore an opportunity like that?"

"Good point." Peter shrugged, reaching out and picking up a pasty from the plate. "I wasn't all that hungry anyway."

"You alright, mate?"

Peter hesitated visibly, taking a rather large gulp of his drink. "Sure."

"Even Prongs can tell better lies than that," Remus remarked. "What's wrong?"

"I just..." Peter glanced round, his eyes lingering on the two children who were still playing with Hagrid; the others having vanished to various parts unknown, "Nothing. Really. I just wonder if people are taking this as seriously as they ought to. I mean...they've got children here. You can't send children to fight You-Know-Who."

"Don't be daft," Remus laughed. "I prefer this sort of introduction. He could have dropped us directly into a Death Eater attack, and then where would we be?" At the draining of colour from Peter's face, Remus felt a slight twinge of guilt. "Sorry. I probably shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's alright," Peter murmured. "But surely...aren't you scared? A little, that is."

Remus thought for a moment. "Of course I am. But that's no reason to stop, now, is it?"

It seemed for a second or two that there was a queer sort of accusation in Peter's eyes, but he merely nodded. "Sure. That makes sense."

It occurred to Remus that perhaps he ought to ask further, but Peter made some quick excuses and hurried off to greet people, leaving Remus to finish the plate of food. Which he did, with gusto. At about that point, Dorcas appeared beside him, with a plate carrying a single piece of an absolutely decadent-looking chocolate cake, topped with what appeared to be candied violets.

"I promised, and hereby deliver," she pronounced, handing it to him. "What's the matter?"

"It's Wormtail," he said, almost without thinking. "I'm not sure what's wrong, but something seems to be."

She followed his gaze to where Peter had wandered back over toward the house. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing. That's the queer bit. He's usually talkative."

She nodded. "Right."

"I'm not being helpful, am I?" he queried, looking up at her with a rueful smile.

"Well, you're not precisely Doctor Watson, nor am I Sherlock Holmes, so I think we're both forgiven for not solving the Case of Peter Pettigrew's Odd Behaviour," she quipped. "I'm sure he's perfectly alright. Trouble at the office, perhaps?"

"That's not a bad guess, actually. Misuse of Muggle Artefacts isn't the most exciting place to work, after all. They tell you about the Ministry as a career choice, and you truly believe you might wander in and change the world." He shook his head. "He was complaining to me yesterday that the most interesting thing to happen recently was when a flock of inter-departmental memos simultaneously smashed into Cornelius Fudge in the lift."

Dorcas snickered. "Who's that?"

"I have no idea. Junior Minister of something-or-other." Remus waved his hand dismissively. "I'm a bit out of touch with the Ministry these days. As, I imagine, are you."

She nodded. "Auror Training isn't the best thing for one's social life, I've found. But sacrifices must be made for the greater good, and if I must be the one to make said sacrifice, I shall do so."

"Modest as ever."

"I wouldn't be me if I was," she retorted. "And don't worry about Peter. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Remus nodded. "Yeah. I suppose we're all a bit...high-strung at the moment. Things being what they are. Not everyone relishes the idea of charging into battle against a powerful Dark Wizard."

"No!" exclaimed Dorcas in mock dismay. "I thought we were the bloody Light Brigade. Or at least the English at Agincourt. We few, we happy few?"

"Make any mention of that to Padfoot, and I will hunt you down," Remus warned. "That's the last thing any of us needs."

"What? You wouldn't find it hopelessly stirring?" she teased.

"No. Because that sort of posturing invariably leads to disaster where he's concerned."

"If one listened to you, everything leads to disaster where Sirius is concerned," Dorcas observed. "I've not come to any harm, and nor have you."

Remus bit back the first retort that cited an incident last March, settling on, "I think you might be biased."

"And I think you might be protesting too much."

Remus stared for a second, realising belatedly that his mouth was hanging slightly open. "Protesting against what?" he demanded. "I've only known him since school began. And you never told me--"

"There you are," Lily's voice cut over the two of them. "I thought I ought to let you know that your cake has completely vanished."

"That doesn't surprise me," Dorcas said, grinning. "Sometimes you simply cannot defeat old-fashioned Muggle bakeries. Eat up, Remus. You've got the last piece, and if you don't, I shall steal it back from you, promise or not."

"Wicked woman," he said without much rancour, helping himself to the cake. Dorcas and Lily proceeded to wander off toward their respective significant others, both of whom were deep in conversation with Professor McKinnon.

"Remus!" Swallowing the last of the cake, he spun around to find himself facing Emmeline Vance. "It's been quite some time since I've seen you."

"And surprisingly, given that you're living with Lily and Dorcas," Remus pointed out. "What have you been doing with yourself? Auror training as well? I think Prongs mentioned something."

"Oh, goodness, no!" She shook her head emphatically. "That sort of thing is best left to people who aren't me. I'm with the Muggle Liaison office in Swansea, and when my uncle needs an extra hand, I work behind the bar at his pub, The Dancing Rat."

Unconsciously, Remus' eyes found Peter, chatting with the Prewett twins on the opposite side of the room, and blocked out the only image he had of his friend dancing. Peter was not known for his sense of rhythm. He had the suspicion that his Animagus form would be no better. "I don't suppose there are any dancing rats? In the pub, that is."

"I hope not," she laughed. "Although it might make for interesting publicity if there were. And what about you?"

"I've..." He hesitated. "I've been working odd jobs here and there. Would it be horribly bad form if I asked if your uncle was looking for extra people?"

"For the Rat?" Emmeline frowned. "I certainly wouldn't think it bad form. I'll ask him. Although," she added with a grin, "I might request something in return."

"Nothing too bad, I hope," he joked, fairly sure that his puzzlement showed on his face. "I'm afraid I can't use my employee discount at Flourish and Blotts anymore."

She waved one hand dismissively. "Nothing of that sort. One of the lovely things about working for the Muggle Liaison office is that cinemas and restaurants and such occasionally send us free tickets and vouchers. Someone--Lily, I think--mentioned that you like horror films."

"I'm not sure if like is the right word," Remus ventured. The first holiday after James, Sirius, and Peter had discovered Remus' condition, Peter had sat them all down in front of his mother's television to watch I Was a Teenage Werewolf, if only to point out everything that was wrong with it, and James and Sirius had enjoyed themselves to such an extent that ridiculing bad horror films had become something of a tradition. "Tolerate. I prefer films with an actual plot, all things considered."

"Well, you're in luck, then. The annual festival of bad horror films is over," Emmeline said, without much remorse. "My younger brother actually paid to see The Stump." At his visible confusion, she elaborated, "It's about an evil, man-eating tree stump."

Remus choked on his laughter. "Sounds a bit like the Whomping Willow."

"That's what I told him. The first letter he sent me back from Hogwarts this year was about how the Whomping Willow doesn't actually eat people. Apparently he was disappointed." She tilted her head to one side, studying him. "What do you think?"

"About?"

"Seeing a film sometime? Perhaps with dinner? I know a lovely curry place."

The realisation of precisely what was going on fell into Remus' head with all the subtlety of an anvil. "I..."

"You don't have to," she said quickly.

"No, no, it's not that. I just..." he scrambled for the words, "Alright. Yes. That sounds like fun."

"Are you sure?" She sounded cautious. "I really did mean it when I said you didn't have to."

"I know. And it does sound like fun."

They settled on the next Friday, and Emmeline excused herself to catch Marlene McKinnon before she left, for one reason or another. Remus let out all the breath he hadn't realised he was holding, only to realise that Peter was standing in front of him, laughing uncontrollably.

"Did Emmeline Vance just ask you on a date, Moony?"

Remus hesitated, then gave up. "Yes, she did. What business is it if yours?"

"Just that you look like you're going to the scaffold, or something," he pointed out. "It was more likely than the other reason why you'd look like you were going to the scaffold."

"What other---oh, of course."

"That, and I'd seen her looking at you in class every now and then," Peter added, grinning mischievously.

"You didn't tell me this why?" Remus demanded.

Peter shrugged. "Would you have believed me?"

"Probably not."

"I rest my case then."

"What on earth am I supposed to do now?" Remus stared after Emmeline's departing figure, shaking his head.

"Moony, haven't you ever---no," Peter corrected himself before Remus could, "I know you've had dates before. You went on a date with...whatever on earth her name was? The Greek girl."

"It's been a long time," Remus protested weakly. "I don't date people, Wormtail. You know that."

"It's a single date, Moony. It's not an engagement. Who can it hurt?"

"Now you sound like Padfoot," Remus said. "But you're right. I don't suppose it could hurt anyone. I've got three weeks before that's a problem," he added darkly.

As if sensing the bitter turn of his friend's thoughts, Peter quickly changed the subject.

***

The air was crisp and cool, and the wind teased at the scant leaves remaining above their heads. Dorcas stopped in her tracks, turned, and snapped a photograph of the straight line of Lovers' Walk stretching out behind them.

"Aren't we romantic?" teased Sirius.

"The lighting was perfect, you philistine," she retorted. "It had nothing to do with romance. If it's romance you want, I suggest you observe Romeo and Juliet over there."

James and Lily, apparently unaware that their companions had stopped walking, had reached the fountain at the end of the path.

"The world truly does disappear where those two are concerned," Sirius murmured, with what might have been wistfulness. It was difficult to tell with him. Between Lily and James, and Frank Longbottom and Alice Prewett at the Order meeting two days before, it did seem sometimes as though the entire world was pairing off. Not that it mattered.

Dorcas shrugged, keeping her eyes carefully averted. "Love does that to people. Or so I've been told."

"Naturally, O All-Knowing One." He slipped his arms around her waist from behind, trying to peer through the viewfinder from over her shoulder. "That's perfect lighting for you. Is this a Muggle camera?"

Dorcas shook her head. He murmured something she could not quite catch, but when she glanced back at him, he merely shrugged. A second or two later, the music started, from where, she could not have said. Lushly low-pitched strings on a slow melody, haunting and sweet.

"Did you...?" She could not finish the question, as he shushed her, gesturing with his head toward James and Lily.

Lily had taken him by the hands, and they began to dance. Awkward at first, but faster as James gained confidence and the music quickened slightly. Dorcas raised the camera and held it as steady as she could, Sirius' hands keeping hers still. She pressed the shutter, just as a particularly strong breeze sent the fallen leaves whirling round the pair.

Her expression safely unseen, Dorcas blinked away stray tears. Of course, she reasoned, beauty was as good a reason to cry as anything else.


Author notes: Discordia Venere translates to Discord of Venus, at least as per my limited Latin skills. Paracelsus was another alchemist from around the same time as Agrippa, and they were, in fact, taught by the same person, Abbot Trithermius.

Call me a hopeless sentimentalist, but I adored the photograph from Prisoner of Azkaban of James and Lily dancing next to a fountain, and simply needed to have it in, even though films are not canon. It seemed harmless enough. The song, for those interested, is ‘Valse Triste’ by Jean Sibelius.

Also, on a more general note, despite my attempts, I sincerely doubt my ability to finish this story before Book Six comes out, and suspect that quite a bit of what I’ve put in here will be refuted by canon. If I can work in the new canon, I will, but more likely than not, this story will be finished as one compliant with Order of the Phoenix.