DISCLAIMER: Everything belongs to Rowling.
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Will and won't
Prologue…
The hollow Bellatrix' laugh was nearly unbearable. Very nearly. One more inch of it and Severus Snape was sure he would start retching.
"You smarmy git!" Bella chocked on her laugh like there was too much of it to swallow. "So it seems that you have chosen the right side, after all! Of course you yourself made sure that it will be the winning one. Bravo, Snape! Ten points to Slytherin!"
"You know very well, Bella, that I was ALWAYS the Dark Lord's faithful servant. So stop ridiculing yourself" said Snape coldly.
His eyes were hollow and dark like the pit of Hell. He looked calm and composed, his fingers playing with a glass of wine. There was nothing behind his spy's mask indicating even a slightest distress.
No one knew what Severus Snape were thinking. Not in the past, not in the present, not even in the future. That was his Ace. That was his winning side.
He smirked. Lestrange was sucking at her lip, suddenly lost in thoughts.
"Give it away, Bella. I see that something is bothering you."
"Where is Cissy and Draco?" she whispered, looking nervously at the door.
"I have already informed you that I have no idea. Draco Disapparated right after he stepped out of the school magic boundaries. I had no contact with him since then."
"Oh, but you KNOW!"
"Prove it."
She was mad now. Yes, women and their shifting moods.
"You know, I think that I will tell the Dark Lord about your little… deal! I know he will be very interested in this kind of information! His most faithful servants plotting behind his back!"
"Don't forget, that you were a binder, Bella."
"I had no choice…"
"Every one of us had a choice!" He suddenly jumped on his feet and Bellatrix started. "Grow up, Lestrange! The Vow is impossible under the Imperius curse, so we should assume that we made it with our free will! So stop pouting about this, now, and let's start dealing with consequences!"
His face was in a full sneer. Bella's cheeks were red from embarrassment.
"Well, well…" she drawled. "It seems to me that loosing a good job and a safe hole to hide hurts a lot, doesn't it, Sevvy? A sore point we have here. Now you see how it is to be a prey…"
"Shut up or I will kill you."
"Don't worry, my poor bat. Without Dumbledore all of it will fall apart. The Phoenix Order. Resistance. They are already debating about closing the Hogwart's. Ha, the safest place in the world! Now we will kill them all, one by one…"
"Write out a plan of the Dark Revel, will you? It will keep you busy while not murdering."
He threw her a parchment and walked upstairs. Maybe he will be able to catch a few hours of sleep.
He needed it.
&&
The flames soared high. The wail of anguish shook the castle's walls, running up higher than any fire could.
The stands were full of people. And her eyes were full of tears.
Albus…
Unbelievable. Incomprehensible.
"Who is he? Slughorn, have you heard of him?"
"Who?"
"This tall stranger in traditional burial robes. Long black hair tied in a ponytail. Keeps his chin high. Must be a pureblood."
"Really, Filius. Dou you expect me to know everyone in the wizarding world? Blast, I have no idea."
"He sits in the first row. He must be the Albus' relative or a really good friend."
She looked at the first row, amazed. A relative? She haven't heard of any. But she wasn't privy to every Albus' secret so it could be possible…
Through her watered eyes she saw a blurred, dark figure. Her mind whirled, her heart jumped.
"Sirius!"
"Minerva?" asked Flitwick, concerned.
"Is that…" she whispered, not sure of her own voice.
"No, Minerva. I'm sorry. This isn't Black, nor anyone from Black's family."
"No, I'm sorry. I'm delusional" She brushed away tears and looked again. "But he really looks familiar. And… wait! Haven't you noticed that this is not the traditional English outfit?"
"Hm. Now, when you pointed it out I really see…"
"Oh, you two! Stop debating and listen! This is a burial, for Melin's sake!" came the irritated voice from the row behind. Moody growled audibly and send them a warning, semi-artificial glare. "And if you were more interested in life outside and the newspapers, you would know that this mysterious stranger is Sergius Alcar Wolvein, the French magnate."
"And what is his connection with Albus?"
"Merlin, woman, does there need to be one? He is the bloody MAGNATE!"
"Well, maybe a French representative, then" said Fillius and went silent.
Not long after that the white tomb closed, Minerva gulped, feeling waves of something uncanny gnawing at her.
It must be a depression. Because of Dumbledore's absence. Because of Severus' betrayal.
Because the trust have died.
&&
The Ministry's Conference Room was too oppressive and too hot. Minerva, squeezed between Remus and Slughorn, could barely breathe.
"Well, it seems that our mysterious French is still with us" muttered Slughorn.
He was. Still in the first row. Still clad in black.
"Is he in mourning?" whispered Minerva, intrigued.
"It might be his usual style, as well. Like the person who we both were thinking that we knew…" said Slughorn slyly.
"No, it is not" came the calm answer from her right. "And yes, he is. In mourning."
"Who…" started Minerva, but Remus Lupin hushed her. He was smiling softly.
The Minister of Magic stood up and started to read. The silence became even more tight.
"I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, do make, publish, and declare this to be my last Will, hereby expressly revoking all Wills previously made by me…"
Minutes ticked. No one was really shocked that Albus give all his wealth to the Phoenix Order, with annotation that this is to be used on the war and for the post-war reparations. It seemed that Albus had no estates, that or he didn't mention it in his last Will. His private possessions went to different people. Sinistra nearly burst in tears, when she heard that Albus offered her a huge part of his mysterious astronomical gadgets. Hagrid was given The Dragon Permission and he ran out, muttering something about buying a really huge specimen, to burn away every bloody Death Eater.
"Dobby can't! Dobby can't!" wailed the poor House Elf, when he heard that he became the rightful owner of Headmaster's impressive collection of socks. "Dobby will take care of them, Dobby promise!" he said at the end, resigned to his fate.
Everyone got something of Dumbledore's. To not forget him.
Wise move, Headmaster, thought Minerva.
"And the rest of my possessions, which I haven't mentioned above, goes to my godson, Sergius Alcar Wolvein…"
"WHAT?" gasped Minerva. "He has a…"
"Shhhh!"
"… I hope that he will use them wisely. However, with this possessions goes the duty. I require my godson to ward the Hogwart's School of Magic and Wizardry, as the wards I have put myself will disappear right after my death."
The Minister lifted his eyes and gazed expectantly at the dark haired man, sitting in the first row. Sergius Wolvein stood up and nodded lightly.
"I will be obedient." He said, his soft baritone reverberating in the small room.
"He is not happy with it. Why I'm not surprised?" muttered Lupin, supposedly to himself.
"Why?" blurted out Minerva.
"His family was extradited from England soon after the death of Grinewald. Officially because of some connections with the previous Dark Lord. He doesn't like England. I bet he do this only because of his godfather."
"Poor chap" muttered Slughorn.
"Oh, poor he is not." Lupin smiled mysteriously.
"Well, monsieur Wolvein, I suppose that this part of Will is irrelevant, as we are closing Hogwart's" said Minister with an air of superiority. "So you don't need to…"
"But Minister …" Sergius Wolvein broke in. " As I was informed, there was no official statement. I believe the matter is still under discussion."
"Is it?" asked Minister of Magic coldly.
And then Sergius Wolvein made two steps and faced Scrimegour. There was an odd fire in Wolvein's eyes. The Minister step back a little, something akin to fright showing on his face.
"Well, Minister… I'm willing to discuss it."
There was a surprised silence. Minerva didn't understand Wolvein's meaning. Slughorn too, guessing by his shocked look. Only Remus smiled softly, knowingly.
Who, the Hell, is he? And why Dumbledore send him to us?
&&
"DAILY PROPHET SPECIAL: IS ALCAR OUR SAVIOUR? A 32 YEARS OLD FRENCH GUARANTEES THE HOGWART'S SAFETY! THE SCHOOL WILL BE REOPENED IN SEPTEMBER!"
"They let this KID cast the wards? What a farce! Minister obviously lost his head – haven't you seen any vampire slayer nearby? Really, my closet is going to be better warded than Hogwart!"
Snape, who was clutching his copy of the Daily Prophet in white-knuckled grip, groaned and pressed hands to his ears. Regretfully, that didn't block the Bella's flood of accusations.
"I don't understand how could they believe him" muttered Lestrange. "They should know better."
"They believe him, because he doesn't believe anyone" said Snape curtly. "It's that simple."
Bella examined him carefully.
"Something's wrong with you, Snape" she stated. "Do you know this Sergius Alcar guy?"
"Oh, yes."
Bella blinked.
"And?"
"What?" Snape looked at the newspaper with hatred. "What do you want to know? That Wolvein shouldn't be taken lightly? Because he shouldn't. Or maybe that he will hunt me till I meet my very painful death? Because he will. And he have an unique skill – he is superb in finding people. That is what do you want to know?"
"Who is he?"
"Oh, don't think that I know him so well. I have never met him … Well, it's all the matter of trust."
"Snape, you are babbling."
"Do you know why Dumbledore trusted me?"
"Believe me, not."
"Because of him."
There was a moment of silence which was broken by a cackle. More cackles followed, soon transforming into a maniacal laugh.
Bellatrix looked shocked. She was probably the first person to see Snape laugh. There was no joy. This laugh was like the disease which goes through the human body.
A painful one.
&&
The top of the Astronomy Tower. A light breeze played with the shorter hair, which escaped from the ponytail. He breathed in the summer mountain scent.
"Exhilarating. Majestic. Powerful. I envy Albus" he said, smile playing on his lips. "This is the wildness of nature which I miss in the French landscape."
His listener cocked his head questioningly.
"No, I don't like England. Even if I can understand why our country kicked us out. It's perfectly reasonable, isn't it? Albus was crazy to inflict a plague like me upon his beloved wizards. But, seeing that I'm already here, I can't refrain from a little show, don't you think?"
His listener trilled delicately.
"Yes, I agree that you are the only sensible part of him. If I am to once more listen to his portrait's incoherent talk, I swear I will start throwing baguettes at him! Merlin, and his 'suprises'… Thanks very much, I was shocked enough by you. Who will think – Albus' unmentioned possession! I suppose I'm positively stuck with you, aren't I?"
Fawkes nodded enthusiastically and ruffled his feathers. Next moment, a jet of red light shoot from one of the castle's windows.
"See, they are ready. Time for a foreplay. Monsieur Voldemort will break his teeth if he dares to bite us."
The Phoenix trilled a sad melody. Fore one fleeting second there was an odd play of emotion on Sergius' face. The fire in his eyes turned cold.
"No Death Eaters this time. I promise."
He lifted his wand. And the warding began.
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AN: OK. Because my readers wish so, this will be a longer story. First chapter soon. Reviews are appreciated!