AUTHOR'S NOTE, 12 September 2017: Dear reader, it's been, it turns out, a long time since I last posted. Two computers have committed hara kiri (one with almost all of my writing on it at the time), and I've moved house three times, losing all but one of my notebooks along the way. Life changes, too, in the meantime (to avoid confusion, I decided not to hyphenate to Ancalimë Erendis-Omega, but I briefly considered it). Through it all, however, this story has stayed with me, both literally and figuratively. It's the one notebook I still have, and one of the few I managed to maintain a memory stick backup for. And moreso even than the "Contented Wi' Little" stories that led to it, "Song of Death" keeps nudging me, reminding me of itself in various ways.

Said notebook has in it several chapters that were written but never survived typing long enough to post (thank you, Windows Vista, you absolute bane that has perished in the obscurity you long deserved). Now that things seem finally to have settled down in the Erendis-Omega household, I mean at last to post those chapters, including with their original A/N's as applicable. What happens after that, I can't promise to know. It's been years since Snarky and I actively collaborated on anything, and while I retain a very clear (one might say haunting) memory of the story's direction, one major character is Snarky's, not mine. Consultation is needful for things to continue into newly written territory.

In any case, here, with apologies for a long delay, is the first installment of what more I now have in "Song of Death".
AE

ooo

Chapter 25: Solus
There was an awkward pause as the others processed the topic-change; Snape was still figuring out Meli's moods, and Zarekael was three decades out of practice. The latter recovered first.

"As charming a house as you keep, Neshdiana, it would probably be best for me not to remain here indefinitely." He narrowed his eyes in an ironic near-smile. "The house elves might start asking questions, you know."

Meli rolled her eyes. "Your concern for my reputation overwhelms." She shook her head. "But even if it was otherwise the best possible arrangement, we can't have you stay in the castle." She flicked her eyes to Snape. "Best for all of us, I think, if Dumbledore doesn't know Zarekael's here."

"Among other factors," Snape agreed, his voice and expression unreadable.

"I would be content to live in the Forest," Zarekael said, addressing Snape more than Meli. "Well away from the school and the town, as well as at a distance from the centaurs."

"Live in the forest." Meli raised her eyebrows. "Where, in a cave?"

He gave her a patient look. "I do know how to build a shelter, Neshdiana. It won't be a stone mansion by any means, but I can make do with a sturdy hut."

She wasn't happy about it, but she had to admit that it was probably the best solution for now. Deep in the Forest, he wouldn't have to worry much about sunlight, and the chances of anyone connected with Dumbledore running across him were slim.

Not to mention the centaurs, who had never liked Zarekael—and who might like him even less now.

"That, of course, will require him to leave the castle," Snape pointed out darkly. "I don't know about either of you, but I'm not very skilled at apparating through wards."

Meli rolled her eyes. First he was criticizing her for allowing a vampire inside in the first place, now he was finding fault with her methods of containment. Make up your mind, Professor; I'm tired of feeling like Potter.

"That will not be a problem," Zarekael said. "I am not averse to creating an unauthorized portkey in an emergency. Once we're outside, Neshdiana can safely revoke her invitation."

Meli stared at him. "Shutting you out of the school entirely? What if something should happen and you need to enter the castle?"

"Neshdiana—"

"It is perhaps expedient to prepare for emergencies," Snape said, his tone cautious and his eyes wary.

Zarekael looked from his sister to his father's counterpart, and Meli had the unwelcome impression that Snape and Zarekael already had a better understanding than she and Snape did, even with all of her lead time and hard work.

"Very well," Zarekael said after a moment. "When the time comes, Professor, will you do the honor of setting the terms?"

"Zarekael!"

"Neshdiana." His sigh was both weary and impatient. "You of all people know the value and importance of trust. Professor Snape has no reason to trust either one of us simply on our word alone—still less when one of us is a vampire. Until I have earned his trust, he deserves to have some reassurance that I will do as I promise." He raised his eyebrows. "You're ready enough to trust me now because you knew me thirty years ago… but how did you act when you knew only that a vampire was coming to visit?"

She swallowed, but as much as she hated it, she had to admit (though only to herself) that he was right.

"Fine," she muttered, crossing her arms. "Please yourself, then."

She was acting like a Gryffindor, and it galled her—especially seeing the disdain in Snape's eyes and the disappointment in Zarekael's—but she couldn't halt the emotional inertia. The snake was hiding, leaving the lion to prance about and make a prat of itself.

Zarekael might forgive her the lapse, but she was losing ever more irreplaceable ground with Snape.

Nothing for it but to brazen through. "Are we ready to do this?" she asked.

Snape narrowed his eyes, but Zarekael's face was impassive. The latter looked to the former and raised his eyebrows. "Is it daylight?"

The potions master smirked. "Neshdiana called me here at ten in the evening; there should be little enough danger, I think."

Meli gritted her teeth but refused to look sheepish. The world might have changed, and Snape himself was markedly different, but one thing was painfully back to normal: Snape and Zarekael had still managed to close ranks across from her again.

Zarekael, meanwhile, looked back to her with, if such a thing was possible, an affectionate smirk. "I'm ready if you are… Epiphany."

"Get bent," she said through her teeth. "Thirty years, and you're still a complete jerk."

He snorted, somehow got hold of a paperweight from the desk several feet away, and pulled a very familiar black wand. "Portus."

ooo

The three of them and Amadeus appeared in the Forest, well away from both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, and probably nowhere near the place Zarekael intended to build his hut. Meli knew from a quick look around that she, at least, would have no trouble finding her way back home, though; he had brought them to a place she visited often enough while gathering potions materials.

"Go ahead, Neshdiana," he said, while she was still getting her bearings.

She looked at him blankly. "Sorry?"

Snape let out an impatient hiss. "Revoke his invitation."

Meli swallowed. "Right. Do I simply have to say it, or must I mean it, too?"

Zarekael sighed. "I can't be issued a broader invitation without your unreasonably limited one being revoked. Does that motivate you to mean what you say?"

Well, when you put it that way… "All right, then." She took a deep breath. "Zarekael, I'm afraid you're out. I'm rescinding my invitation."

Snape looked even more annoyed than usual, which was quite the accomplishment, given how he'd been lately. Zarekael just looked very tired, and the patient look he gave her was clearly forced. He didn't comment at all but instead looked to Snape.

"Will you think me unreasonable for asking to know your terms in advance?"

The potions master shook his head. "I should think you foolish if you did otherwise. The terms are simple enough and can be adjusted at need and as you prove yourself.

"Since it appears that Neshdiana has no objection to your company, I see no reason to forbid access to her rooms. The hospital wing, in case of some medical emergency. My private office, and the most direct paths from the castle entrance to each of those places.

"I will specifically prohibit access to the residence Houses, the classrooms, and all other offices and private quarters.

"You being allowed into the castle at all, and to remain there, is contingent upon you neither intending nor doing harm to anyone, but I will allow you the ability to defend yourself and any of the castle's inhabitants who might otherwise come to harm." He raised his eyebrows. "Will that suffice?"

No, it won't, Meli wanted to say, but she bit her tongue. The terms were so stringent—stricter than what she thought she'd have done even if she hadn't known Zarekael. Still, this was out of her hands, and the only thing she could accomplish by speaking up now was to further irritate Snape.

The fact that she realized this told her that the snake had returned from its hiatus, and that, at least, was comforting.

Zarekael, meanwhile, was carefully considering the terms. He nodded after a moment or so. "Yes, I believe it will." He gave a formal not-quite-bow from the neck. "Thank you."

Snape raised his eyebrows and looked awkward. "Er… you're welcome."

Meli had the clear impression that Snape wasn't used to being sincerely, not to mention formally, thanked, especially not by vampires whose wings—fangs?—he was about to clip. She was amused in spite of herself but chose, under the circumstances, to keep it to herself.

ooo

It didn't take long for Snape to actually issue Zarekael's invitation, and in seemingly no time at all, he and Meli were trekking back to the castle with Zarekael and Amadeus already half a mile behind them.

Meli stopped suddenly, which brought Snape to an immediate halt. "What?" he snapped impatiently.

"I meant to ask him to tea," she replied numbly. She hadn't realized until now that she just might be in shock from everything that had happened over the past several hours, but here was a definite clue. Her brother was back from the dead, as it were, except that he was Undead, with all of the issues that entailed, and here she was worrying about tea?

Snape stared at her, obviously thinking similar thoughts, albeit in a different direction, and when he answered, it was in a placating-the-dummy tone. "There are more important things than that to consider, don't you think?"

"Yes." Her voice seemed to echo oddly, as if it really were someone else talking through a culvert. She tried to think of what those other things might be, knowing that they could anchor her a bit better. Wouldn't Kalimac find her present state funny…

"The coalition!" She came slamming back to herself. "We have to tell them, introduce him—"

"Neshdiana—"

"He's a brilliant tactician, Professor—he'll know what to do about—"

"Neshdiana—"

"—the cup, and I'm sure he'll have other ideas that—"

"Ailsa!"

She stopped short in surprise. Was this the first time he'd said her second name? She couldn't remember—but that was another irrelevant detail, and she couldn't afford to be in shock enough to focus on it. She shook herself free of it.

Snape waited just long enough to be sure he had her attention before stating his case in a tone that brooked no argument. "We can't do anything with reference to Zarekael except to leave him alone for the next several days or weeks!"

"What?" She stared at him stupidly, her sudden exuberance buried in total bewilderment. "I don't understand."

Snape gritted his teeth and looked like he was working on a migraine. "I don't want to know what kind of hapless fools came out of your Defense Against the Dark Arts class," he growled. "By his own account, Zarekael was Turned only a few days ago. The Turning drove him first to a form of madness, then to a form of suicide. Not only did he expect to die, he hoped to die, and he's had perhaps three hours to adjust to the idea of not being dead!

"Any fledgling vampire would need to be left alone to make the adjustment—how much more a fledgling who also must grow accustomed to the idea of remaining…" He hesitated, just short of the word alive. "Well. In existence."

She glared hatefully back at him, but what he said made a harsh sort of sense, especially when she remembered Zarekael's thinning patience and the terms to which he'd happily agreed for his invitation. She had been so glad to have her brother back that she'd missed the crucial clues and what they pointed to.

And now that she did see, she was crushed. It probably showed on her face because Snape let out a growling sigh and looked contemptuously back at her.

The snake, its ire piqued as much as the lion's was, told her to level a subtle but devastating emotional blow that would keep that expression from surfacing ever again; the lion, of course, said to go straight for the throat. Even in her misery, though, she couldn't bring herself to throw Lily Evans in his face, whether subtly or openly. It was true enough that if he had Lily suddenly resurface in his life, his reaction might be just as blind as Meli's had been… but that was his own burden to wrestle with. Pointing an accusing finger to scream tu quoque wouldn't improve anything.

She reached back through two years of ancient history and mustered up her classroom voice—the one that had terrified Draco Malfoy and once made Dudley Dursley cry. "All right, Professor," she said, and she had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes go slightly wide. "We'll do this your way—or his, as the case may be. No tea, and no coalition, until further notice."

He knew, even if he didn't really understand, what saying that cost her, but he had at least the decency not to remark on it. When he turned back toward the castle, she followed without another word.

There was only one word, and she wasn't going to say it to him. Not now, maybe not ever.

Ailsa.

Alone.

ooo

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I promise that Meli is more or less mentally stable, and I likewise promise to keep the melodrama (or the mellow Dramamine?) to a minimum. Plot Bunnies of Doom can take a severe emotional toll, however. Oh, and before I forget, a note that ought to have gone in two chapters ago: Happy unBirthday to Bet, my former roommate and first beta reader. When Snarky and I were plotting out the story arc for what happened after "Contented Wi' Little", Bet was understandably upset to discover that it involved the untimely deaths of Meli, Zarekael, and David (yep, he's been around in our heads for that long). With the coming of this story, though, we can all have our cake and eat it, too—Bet can have the characters alive, and Snarky and I can keep thinking about them in the present tense. So… Felicidades a Bet.

For anyone wondering, tu quoque is a Latin phrase meaning "you, too!", and in formal logic, it's the name of a fallacy (it amounts to saying "You can't argue because you do the very same thing, you hypocrite!", which isn't really a logical answer, even if it's a cathartic one).

For the name of this chapter, I am indebted to The Crüxshadows, whose song "Solus" captures a good bit of Meli's mood by the end.
AE