Unfurling of a Rose

Chapter 11

"What is the meaning of this?"

Snape answered without looking up. While he had not been expecting her, her presence was certainly not surprising. "That is perhaps the ]most meaningful question in the world, my dear Abigail Mahaffey."

The person who stepped forward made one girl in the back of the classroom gasp.

Indeed, this woman was ponderous.

Though her stature could hardly compare with Hagrid's, she gave the impression of filling the entire room, blocking the light that came through the door and sending her dominating presence to the far corners of the room.

She had a formidable countenance, with dark brown hair tied in a precarious knot at the nape of her neck, and bushy eyebrows curled towards the center of her forehead, making her black eyes menacing. Her nostrils flared and her mouth naturally curved into a sneer. A forceful chin jutted outward. Her head was connected to a thick neck, connected to a thick body, not fat or soft, but muscular. But despite all this, she still managed to look feminine in her purple robes and peaked hat. The woman held a trunk tightly in one fist and a large carpetbag in the other.

At Snape's reply, her frightening face twisted into a less baleful look of resignation and, oddly, relief.

"How did you know it was I?" the woman asked with a touch of a smile.

"I'd recognize your voice anywhere. You screamed it at me enough when we were children," Snape said, scribbling something on the Hufflepuff essay in front of him, then setting down his quill. With an inaudible sigh, he stood, making eye contact with the woman for the first time. "What brings you to Hogwarts?"

"Aunt Abby!" Corielle exclaimed, the initial shock from the woman's entrance diminishing.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Your aunt? This is your aunt?"

"I most certainly am," said Abigail Mahaffey, personally affronted by Snape's tone. "Why?"

Snape shrugged. "No reason. You're just and she's"

"She's my niece, Snape," interjected Abigail fiercely, stepping toward the girl, "and if you ever put your slimy hands near her -"

"Watch what you say," Snape warned, not really sounding worried at all. In fact, it looked as though he was enjoying himself immensely. "I would hate to remove you from my classroom because of your... negative influence on my students."

"They've heard it all before, and worse. If I wish to call you a-"

Snape smirked casually. "Really, your highly-esteemed manners appear to have disintegrated in my presence. How flattering and amusing. And as for Miss Griffin, she's my responsibility, Abigail."

"What do you mean?"

Snape gave a vulpine smile, rather cruel in the dungeon's muted light. "I am deeply sorry if it causes you any grief, but your dear niece is a Slytherin."

Abigail froze where she stood. Then, slowly, she turned toward the pretty creature who was her sister's daughter. When Corielle would not look directly back at her, and when Abigail saw the Slytherin crest on her robes glittering slightly in the torchlight, Abigail deflated.

She muttered, not unkindly, "Well, my dear Corielle, I think we have much to talk about."

"Right now, Abigail, Miss Griffin has a class to complete," Snape said. He swiftly stepped in front of her, blocking her from her niece.

Abigail fixed her dark eyes onto his. "So?"

For a few intense seconds, these two stared unblinking at each other. Finally, Snape looked instead at Corielle.

"You may use my office," he murmured silkily. "How far are you from completing the potion, Miss Griffin?"

"Draco can finish it, I think, can't you, Draco?"

Draco grinned while throwing ingredients into his cauldron in a seemingly haphazard manner.

"A Malfoy," Abigail muttered, not entirely under her breath. "My own Corielle associating with a Malfoy. It's unthinkable."

"Leave it, Abigail," Snape said, turning swiftly and sitting at his desk again in his own characteristic movements. "Talk with the girl. And if you want more scapegoats, meet another one of your old friends in the person of Remus Lupin. He's Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher now." He did not make any move to open the door for them, or even to further acknowledge the presence of Abigail at all.

"I know. Gentlemanly to the last, Severus," Abigail mused aloud. "Come, Corielle." She took her niece's arm and gently led her through the heavy Gothic door into Snape's office.

Abigail swivelled around to face Corielle, but before the her prodigious aunt could speak one syllable, Corielle spoke up - not without some trepidation, as it was one of the first times she had even tried contradicting Abigail Mahaffey.

"Aunt Abby, I know you, Mum, Dad, and everyone else in our family has been in Gryffindor, and I know all too well that Gryffindor doesn't particularly like Slytherin, but-"

Abigail, though surprised at Corielle's unusual boldness, interrupted nonetheless.

"But nothing, Miss Corielle Andromeda Griffin.

"I came here because I received an owl that my sister and brother-in-law were attacked by Death Eaters that included my own brother, and I'm your only guardian. Not only that, but I was never informed of the things that happened to you while I was away by anyone, and the news came to me only recently from an incredibly unexpected source when it should have come from you. And now you're in Slytherin."

Corielle began to protest again, but Abigail raised her hand, signalling Corielle to stay silent.

"I know as well as the next person that most of the dark wizards have graduated under the Slytherin name, You-Know-Who being one of them. But I also know, better than most, that not all dark wizards come from Slytherin and not all good wizards come from other Houses."

She paused, then continued vehemently. "I swear, when I see my brother, I'm going to rip him limb from limb with my bare hands. And that's not even beginning with what I'll do with his remains when I get a wand into these vengeful fingers of mine, after what he's done to you. Come here, Corielle."

Abigail opened her arms in an uncharacteristic gesture of tenderness. After facing such friendly opponents like Draco and Snape, not to mention the well-intended but nevertheless rigorous training under Lupin's direction, Corielle was unaccustomed to this new approach by her usually hard-as-nails aunt.

But it was welcome, and Corielle gratefully melted into Abigail's embrace.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Abby," Corielle said waveringly, tears beginning to trickle from the corners of her eyes. Tears in honor of her parents' deaths, tears that had been stifled, now revealed themselves in both aunt and niece. The two cried together, united by their grief and their closeness, even though they had been apart for so long.

"Oh, my dear Ella, my sweet Ella, why didn't you tell me?" Abigail knelt before Corielle, who had sunk to the floor, stroking her red hair comfortingly. Not many would expect such a large person to be comforting, but as anyone who knew Abigail - or, for that matter, Hagrid - knew that when she wanted to, Abigail could be anything she desired. And Abigail had been nothing but always been a source of comfort to Corielle.

"I couldn't - I - he wouldn't let me tell anyone."

"A letter, a coded owl - "

Corielle shook her head. "He checked my mail, Muggle and owl. I tried sending you something several times, but he always caught me, and he would rip the letters before my eyes and throw them into the fire; he'd make me watch, and then he'd punish me." Corielle pushed her face against Abigail's shoulder to smother the piercing cries that threatened to escape her mouth.

So often had Abigail been there for her, been a pillow for her head or a source of stories, jokes, gifts, everything an aunt ought to be and more. But to tell the absolute truth, Corielle she had thought when she had attempted an SOS that she would not succeed anyway. She had thought Aunt Abby would fail her, that she would not comprehend the hints given to her, that she would be like every other person to whom Corielle had tried to clue her horrid existence.

"How long did it last?" Abigail asked, afraid of the answer.

"Six years."

Abigail wrenched herself away, a grimace of pain on her face. "A month after I left then, the bastard. Maiming is too good for him."

"I'm s-s-sorry."

"No." Abigail took Corielle's head softly in her hand, cradling her cheeks. "You don't have to be sorry. It's all his fault. I'm hating myself for not being there for you and instead chasing vampires in Asia."

This time, it was Corielle comforting Abigail. "It wasn't your fault either, Aunt Abby. No one could have seen it coming. I certainly didn't," she said bitterly. "I thought he hung the moon until he came to me that first night."

"Well, I'm here for you now, Ella," Abigail whispered, pulling Corielle into a hug again. "I'll take care of you. And I'll never leave you alone - never again."

~888~

Corielle left after the red in her eyes and cheeks, the telltale signs that she had been crying, went away, leaving Abigail alone in Snape's office, musing into the fire.

"Am I allowed into my office, Abby?" Snape asked softly.

Abigail nodded. "That's an awfully quiet voice for the fire-tongued Snape I remember," she said with a wry smile.

Snape shrugged one shoulder and sat down at his desk, fingers steepled under his chin. "Well, if it pleases you, I've used it a bit on your niece to make up for time lost with you."

Abigail whirled around, lightning flashing in her eyes.

"There we go, that's more familiar. Now turn off your Glamoury. It does not affect me; I was subjected to it too long when I first left Hogwarts."

"Remind me to thank Cassandra for that," Abigail growled, complying grudgingly. "It's been years since I've seen her, and to know she scored against Severus Snape, with sex no less, brings me great joy."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Do not push me, Abigail. Do you really believe that the score was worth the price? You know what enchantresses are; you know what they do; you know the only thing men are good for according to them; and you know the extent of their desires is just short of infinite. And then to be subjected to the Death Eater's torments, humiliations... Dumbledore informed you of that, I presume. He trusts you beyond all doubt, but if he knew you were harboring such hatred of me that would lead to you wishing it would happen again he gave Black and me enough grief for our own feud."

Abigail settled into the chair opposite Snape and sat back. "Can you deny you deserved it?"

"Whether I deserved it or not isn't the question, and you have no right to judge. Only Dumbledore has that right with me, and he never abuses it. You, however"

"All right," Abigail said, nodding her head. "I apologize."

"That's a first."

"Enough, Severus. I want to know about Corielle. Slytherin! I told her in a few words it was the least of my worries, but-"

Snape snorted. "Typical Gryffindor. You never see anything beyond your own House, do you? There have been 'good girls'" - his tongue stumbled on the unfamiliar phrase - "in Slytherin, in a manner of speaking. Being Sorted into Slytherin doesn't automatically turn ordinary people into snarling, rude, disgusting, sneering, ugly beasts."

"Like you."

Snape chose to ignore the comment.

"What makes you think that Miss Griffin is any different than when she was at home?"

"The way she looked at the Malfoy boy, friendly-like. We both know what the Malfoys are, Snape. It's only because of unusual situations she was Sorted into this House, and I want her out of Slytherin now, before it - "

"What?" Snape shouted suddenly, losing his composure. He had just integrated the girl into his House, and he was not about to permit an old friendly rival to remove her. "Before it corrupts her? You've talked to her, and if she hasn't shown her changes yet, talk to her again! If she's changed at all, she's only become stronger. She's only just put behind her what Willem Griffin did to her..."

"How do you know about that?" Abigail asked, eyes wide with shock.

"Remus, Albus, and I were given a little look at her lifestyle before that Black Dog was convicted. Not that it was our idea, I should emphasize. She was sent a letter from the Death Eaters after they killed Catharine and Nathaneal. The trauma elicited a rather stormy result."

Abigail closed her eyes, pained. She stared into the fire. "I should have known," she whispered. "I should have known that Willem would force her to become a Slytherin. That evil, conniving-"

"Gryffindor," Snape completed for her. "Griffin was a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor Black Dog, now a Gryffindor Death Eater. It is not our Houses that ally us with Voldemort. The Sorting Hat saw fit to Sort Miss Griffin into Slytherin. That doesn't say anything about her character. To think so after knowing her for years is to be dismally myopic. You know that."

"How strange that Griffin would be the one" Abigail muttered. "The only child of our mother and father"

Snape cocked his head, leaning back into his chair. He could never stand comfortable chairs, so the high-back, wooden throne on which he sat suited him.

"Explain yourself," he commanded. "I thought Catharine and you were sisters to Willem."

"We have the same mother," said Abigail sharply. "It is odd that Willem would be the one to join You-Know-Who when he had the normal father."

"Normal father? This is becoming more and more explanatory," Snape sneered, and then motioned for Abigail to continue when she sat and glared at him in silence.

"My mother, Thursday, was a maid. In many respects, she was a lot like Corielle. Their characters and appearances are similar. Thursday was beautiful, the great-granddaughter to an enchantress, but she had a submissive heart. She left school at fifteen to work at her father's command. Her mother had died, and her father was all but evil himself.

"She was hired by a Muggle man named James Smith. He was married to a shrew of a wife and had a son of twelve. The wife, Maggie, was a wretched, ugly, fat woman with beady eyes and an imperious nature. Her son, Charlie, was a wretched, ugly, fat boy with no brains at all, just hands that reached out and clutched at every shiny, expensive product there was. James, however, was tall, large, looking almost like he had the condition Muggles like to call giantism, but he was no giant. He was more than a man, I can tell you that. He was a Hercules, with muscles that rippled against his skin, evident even under all the clothes they wore in those days. James was an ideal man, a god: handsome, with light blue eyes and dark hair and a smile that would make women of the town weak at the knees."

"Please, spare me," Snape muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up. I'm telling a story that is important. If you're going to be Corielle's Head, which means knowing her past, you have to know the whole history. Don't interrupt." Abigail flashed her strongest glamour at him, then continued her tale.

"Mother spoke of him with a hard spark in her eyes because he was also a cruel man, indifferent to the suffering of the world, and he allowed his wife to order Thursday to do all sorts of wild things among all the general household necessities. He allowed his son to sabotage Thursday's cooking and sewing, though Charlie actually liked her and treated her with more respect than he did to anyone else, even his mother. Except his father, of course. No one crossed James Smith without mysteriously disappearing. And I mean 'mysteriously.' Not even a wizard could have found any evidence except for a strange, unidentifiable slime that was left behind at every murder. No one could figure out from what that slime came, and when they tried to find the source in Smith's home, they never found anything. He was too meticulous.

"Smith did not begrudge the Muggle authorities their search. He knew they would never locate his greatest secret.

"James' attitude toward Thursday was odd for his character. He never ordered her about, and he asked only one thing of her when she came to work for him. And that was to go through the secret passage in the basement to his special chamber where the Thing hid."

"The Thing?" Snape inquired. "There was an implied capital there, am I correct?"

"Yes," answered Abigail, staring at the fire in Snape's hearth, eyes focused somewhere in the past. "James would never trust anyone else to his secret except her. Not even Maggie and Charlie knew of his pet. For years, Thursday kept his secret loyally, cleaning the Thing's floors and giving it food. It would permit her to walk among it's quarters without eating or dissolving her. It was a great privilege.

"Thursday did not associate with anyone outside her situation, and she did her work diligently: dressing Charlie, dressing Maggie in her boudoir, sweeping, cooking, sewing, straightening things up, shopping. The only thing that she did with her meager pay was to buy a pair of scissors to cut her hair. She couldn't use magic, remember, and she hadn't graduated from Hogwarts, so to use magic even in the privacy of her room was unauthorized.

"Corielle inherited her hair from my mother, though Corielle's hair is darker, and if you took a portrait of my mother and put it beside Corielle, the only difference would be in her eyes, which she was given by her father. You've probably noticed Corielle's beauty. Few men haven't, unfortunately, though you might be the impotent exception -"

"Watch it, Abigail," Snape growled. "And besides, what does Corielle have to do with this story?"

"I'm giving you a basis for comparison," Abigail returned sharply. "So you understand. Everyone noticed my mother's beauty. Including James. When James had married Maggie, she had been thin, rich, and pretty because rich young ladies seeking a match had to be pretty, but after marriage, she no longer had to ignore fine food, and she became fat on it. Maggie was jealous of Thursday, and kept her poorly dressed and downtrodden, but try as she might, Thursday continued to be what she was, and Maggie never forgave her that.

"But Maggie's stingy, cold-hearted, selfish, shallow ways began to bore James. His son hadn't turned out as he had planned, so he began to observe Thursday's quiet, submissive demeanor and her charms, much more desirable in a woman than debauchery and ugliness.

"One day, he sent his son away to sleep over with his friend, and waited in the parlor for his wife to return. Feigning foreplay, he hit her on the head and locked her in a linen closet. Then he sat in the
entrance hall, his shirt ripped off by Maggie's passion. Even though he was not interested in her, Maggie was definitely still attracted to her husband - who wouldn't be? - which was why she made life so hard for Thursday," Abigail explained, looking at the fire in an attempt to tell her story dispassionately.

Snape, too, was staring into the fire, mind painfully in the present, and all he could see was Corielle - startlingly similar in appearance to Thursday - in her grandmother's position, James substituted with Willem Griffin. He could see where this was going.

"When Thursday came in the front door, James was waiting for her, and she knew what his plan he was doing. She had felt his eyes for weeks on her when she gave him his supper, when she came into his room to adjust his cuffs and collar. But she was afraid, as everyone with the slightest common sense would be, of being as the object of James' lust. He took off her clothing at threat of dismissing her. He whispered menacingly, but truthfully, that she had promised him in her contract to obey his commands, and he ordered her to make love with him, now. So she succumbed, as she always had, and he carried her into his chambers and took her in his bed with the fists of his now-conscious wife hitting the door. Then, after his climax, the door to the bedroom burst open and Maggie came in, furious and intent on blaming Thursday, who was shaking on the bed. It had not been rape, she had been willing, and when I was old enough, my mother told me he had made her feel good, special, for the first time in her life, but she had also known that what he had done to her was strange and forbidden. She never recovered from that guilt. Her eyes were hollow when she related this tale to me.

"If Maggie was furious, James had a god's wrath. He stood, and he became the Thing. A viscous, slime-like creature the color of midnight, opaque. In the magicking world, perhaps it is a relation to the Lethifold, but an earlier cousin, a predecessor before magic. It surrounded Maggie and dissolved the skin from her bones, eating her and digesting her before Thursday's very eyes. She screamed, then the Thing turned to her. She fainted.

"When she awoke, she found herself completely submersed in the Thing. It spoke to her telepathically, explained what it was, connected as it was to her. It had tried to have a child like itself with Maggie, but now it knew that its genes could not be passed along through Charlie, but it was willing to try again. And then James - or rather, it - took her once more, this time in its true form, eliciting still another climax and scarring Thursday for life along her thighs where the Thing lost its control and accidentally began dissolving her before checking itself. That is what conceived myself and my sister, my twin, Catharine. Corielle's mother.

"We look nothing alike, and I am always assumed to be older, much older than Catharine. She takes after my mother, and I take after my father.

"But Willem's father was an ordinary wizard, with ordinary powers, and ordinary characteristics. Our mother met him years later, fell in love with him, and attempted to forget the experiences that had given us to her. Even though she always loved us, I think she feared what we could grow up to be, considering how we had received life. She was always so careful, teaching us only to do good things, to protect, not destroy. Being taught so fervently was actually not a very effective idea, and both of us were rather rebellious, I'm afraid. Willem wanted so much to please Mother, he always listened to what she said. When she died, he was so heartbroken. One would think Catharine or I would be the ones to join Voldemort, with our parentage."

Snape was holding his head and rubbing his temples. When he spoke, it was muffled, "What power did this Thing have? Are you so sure it wasn't magical?"

"Positive. There is no record of it in wizarding archives, but there are some reports in Muggle history, before magic was born." Abigail broke off, looking at Snape with concern. "Severus, are you all right? You're white as a ghost! Don't tell me this story scared you!"

"You assume too much," Snape growled, now in a very bad humor indeed. "I'm sure you wish to visit Remus and Albus, and you still have you niece to protect. Now leave!"

Abigail narrowed her eyes. She gave Snape a once-over. The rivalry between the two of them was hot, but they were never happier with each other than when they fought, and they mutually enjoyed the challenges each set for the other. So when she observed him, it was with masked concern. But she discerned that Snape wanted to be left alone and simply said, "Fine." She stood up and left slowly, watching him warily.

When she had left, Snape completely uncovered his face, one eye twitching with the effort to hold back the flood of dark pleasure that had swept through his body as Abigail had related to him Corielle's family history. He had to wait a few moments before he trusted himself to leave his office and prepare for his next class which was already starting to trickle in.

He wondered how Abigail Mahaffey would react if she knew he was thinking of her chick in that way.

It will fade, he thought forcefully. Just concentrate on something else, and it will fade.

~888~

"Abby," Lupin ventured tentatively.

"Hello, Remus," Abigail said coldly, hand on Corielle's shoulder.

Corielle quickly noticed the tension and said, "Aunt Abby, I think you know Professor Lupin."

Abigail nodded.

"You should be proud of your niece, Abby. She's a wonderful fencer, her Defense Against the Dark Arts grades are improving now that she has been attending most of her classes, and her wand control is something to be admired."

Abigail just stood there, staring at Lupin. More wilful men had quailed under her gaze. Lupin looked plaintively at Corielle.

"Um," Corielle interjected, "I have to go back to class now. I'll just -" She slipped out the door, and Lupin was left alone with Abigail.

"Well, Remus, you have a lot of explaining to do."

He hung his head. "I know. I didn't know who to turn to, and when I saw their will, and you were her guardian, I thought you ought to know."

"Did you know you knew about Griffin before I did? She never told me."

Lupin gave a wry smile. "She never told me either."

"Then how-"

"Her smell. Six years with a werewolf, and rape, left a distinctive odor mingled with her normal skin. I didn't notice it, just realized that something was wrong. Snape, actually, alerted me to the precise incongruency. As I understand it, they had a confrontation in his office and savage words were exchanged, mostly on his part, I'd guess. He was given the chance to observe the scent, and many other mysteries were solved in the making."

"A werewolf and a Potions Master. A wolf's senses and an oversized nose. I should have known."

"Abby, I'm sorry I didn't tell you-"

Abigail glared at him. Unlike Snape, Glamoury worked on Lupin. "I think I had the right to know you were a werewolf. And I heard it from Snape! From Snape, because he knew I would be stunned, and he knew you hadn't told me yourself."

"Abby, I'm sorry! Are you going to hate me forever because I kept quiet my lycanthropy like any intelligent werewolf would?"

Abigail suddenly turned away, placing two large hands on the back of an armchair. Her head was bowed.

"You knew how I felt about the creatures," she said quietly.

"There's a difference between liking werewolves in theory and meeting a true werewolf face-to-face. And you were always aggressive in the matters of dark beasts. Look at you now, a slayer. My point is made."

"I was your friend!" Abigail screamed, shocking Lupin. "If it was enough for James, Sirius, and Peter, why shouldn't friendship have been enough for me?"

Lupin shrugged meekly, knowing the battle was pointless. "I was young. I was worried about how you would look at me if I told you."

"Did you bite Willem?"

Lupin's face twisted in horror. "What?!"

"My brother! Did you bite him?" Abigail faced him again, eyes red.

He shook his head slowly and shut his mouth, trembling with anger. When he finally regained enough composure, he said through clenched teeth, "So you think that because I'm a werewolf, I've created all the werewolves that have made your life miserable. No! I didn't! Griffin's a completely different kind of werewolf. You'd think that even after the Wolfsbane Potion, I'd be the partial cause of Corielle's torture. You know when Griffin became a werewolf. I saw him once, and that was not only when he was a young man, but also a younger werewolf. Wolfsbane had been invented only just after I left Hogwarts. You know that. See! This is why I didn't want to tell you I was a werewolf. Look at how you've reacted -suspicion! This was why I was afraid to see you."

"I'm not angry at you for being a werewolf; I'm angry at you for not telling me sooner." A single tear trickled down Abigail's cheek before she brushed it away. "Look at me, Remus. I wouldn't have shut you out. I would have helped you through it. I would have become an Animagus like your other friends. You weren't as secretive as you thought. I found out the moment they changed. I wondered why you didn't become one yourself if Peter could do it. Feel privileged I didn't go straight to Dumbledore."

Lupin sighed, sitting on the edge of his desk, and ran one hand across his weary head. "It might have been better if you had, but that's past now. You're here now, and Corielle needs you."

"What that girl needs is a therapist. She can't-"

"Severus is enough for her," Lupin interrupted.

Abigail did a double-take. "Excuse me?"

"He's her Head of House. The last thing she needs is a therapist asking her about her time with Willem. What she needs is someone who can order her to do work, to do magic that she hasn't been able to do before. Severus and I have taken it upon ourselves to give her as much work as she'll take. He gives her extra private classes where he teaches her more difficult potions than are taught in regular class. And she does well! Do you know how amazing she is, Abby? She's only had her magic for four and a half months and she's mastered sixth-year work, most of seventh-year, and a number of university levels. If she continues to come to my class, I may consider requesting that she have an Apprenticeship with me. She has a remarkable grasp on Charms, and her control on curses are unequalled by many Aurors. Severus is also considering her Apprenticeship.

"Abby." Lupin put a hand on Abigail's massive shoulder. "She enjoys her work, and who knows how much potential she has for further experiments. And this is mostly due to Severus' insistence that she be tested beyond her estimated limits. We both know Snape's a bastard, but he's a clever bastard, and Albus doesn't disapprove of his methods. He even encourages Severus' harsh words, and I agree with Albus. She's finally fairly content with being in Slytherin, and it would be folly to tear her away from her new home now."

"She was fraternizing with the Malfoy boy," Abigail said, grasping onto anything. She could not deny that Remus always had possessed an uncanny ability of persuasion. Or at least to her.

"Who, Draco? Don't worry about him. He's better than Lucius, and certainly better than he used to be. He's a good companion for her, and she's allied herself with Marcie Fireflow and Victor Shaman, so I wouldn't worry about her welfare." Lupin grinned.

"The Fireflow girl and the Shaman boy?" Abigail asked, a smile beginning to creep onto her face as well. "Are they as mischievous as their parents?"

"Worse."

Abigail chuckled. "Good. Do they give Snape a rough time?"

"Certainly."

"Even better."

Lupin's grin left as a new development occurred to him. "You'll have to take her to her home. You don't have a permanent residence here, so everything needs to be counted and accounted for; the Ministry's
already swept it clean, so you will not find much left from the murder. But the house is yours until Corielle turns eighteen. And Corielle knew Griffin better than anyone, to put it lightly, and she might find more clues to the whereabouts of him and the other Death Eaters."

Abigail was nonplussed. "You're not the executor of the will, how do you know this?"

Lupin smiled gently. "Well, you were too far away for quick owl post, the owl would get a heart attack before he got to you. So the Ministry sent the will to Albus, who in turn gave it to Severus, as he's her Head of House and would therefore know her better. And he gave it to me. He didn't want to talk to you." Lupin leaned forward confidingly. "I think he's a bit afraid of you."

"He'd better be. He's coming along with us to the manor. Will serve him right."

~888~

Snape rubbed his forehead where a distinct pressure began spidering out to his temples and behind his eyes. He debated with himself about whether Corielle Griffin was worth this kind of trouble, a whole night with Abigail Williams.

Still he owed it to Corielle.

With a slight self-mocking sneer, he cursed his pathetic strange sense of honor. He did not mind terrifying an innocent girl in a dark alleyway, but he felt obligated to protect one of his students.

The world's a wondrous place. Where Snow White gets Prince Charming and in a few years one of them is found with their guts spilled out in the fields. Wondrous, indeed.

"Severus?" Abigail called from outside his office. "We're ready if you are."

"I seriously doubt Miss Griffin will ever be ready, but all right," he muttered, rolling his eyes, wincing at the pain shooting through his temples. He wondered whether he ought to take a weak potion to deal with it, but abandoned that idea as Abigail banged a little harder at the door.

"I'm coming!" Snape growled. He straightened his collar and stepped out of his office just as Abigail was just about to knock again. Abigail raised an eyebrow, then tilted her head, gesturing for them to leave.

Corielle looked diminished in some way, and pale and shadowy in her black robes, only slightly different from her school robes. She had put her hair up in a simple knot around her head. Her lips were pressed together tightly, and she did not speak a word, and just looked straight ahead. When Abigail took her arm, Corielle offered no resistance, but followed obediently.

Snape shook his head. This was not helping her at all. He knew it would take weeks to open the chinks he had patiently worked through. Well, maybe not so patiently.

"Snape, are you just going to sit there like a lazy bum and stare at my niece, or are you going to do the honors of getting out of here without Apparating?"

Snape glared sharply at Abigail, then turned away. Corielle had not even reacted to the insinuation, which worried Snape.

Then, not knowing what to say, he gave up and led them out of Hogwarts without speaking another word.