A/N: Thanks, HannahKathleen. Fixed!
A/N: Summer vacation may be a time for rest for normal people, but for the life of me, I haven't had much of it. Been in a bit of a writing rut due to "all the things." Sorry, folks!
My beta is currently on vacation (and she deserves it!), so all the mistakes found within are my own. I am posting it now so all of those of you who have been waiting do not have to wait anymore. I will post the revised and shinier version after my poor beta recovers from her vacation.
School has started up again for me, so posting schedule will be, yet again, few and far between. I will post as I can, my dear readers, but I have no intention of abandoning the story. Sometimes, inspiration strikes when I have a hundred more things I should be doing. I'm sure you all know how that goes.
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Chapter 29: In For a Penny, Out For a Pound
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Tampered Foods Discovered in Durmstrang and Beauxbatons
Hogwarts was not the only school for wizards and witches that has been plagued with strange cases of tampered food. In the case of L'académie de Magie de Beauxbatons in France, witches' cosmetics have been laced with some sort of odd potion that brings out the worst personality traits in all who are exposed to it.
The current medical staff at the French school has confirmed the base of Malevolent Mixture that has been customised in a manner to be far more insidious than previous incarnations of the concoction. Even more troubling seems to be the timing of the outbreak, which occurred days before a Muggle festival was to be held just outside the magical school's boundaries. The festival, which has been a draw for both Wizarding and Muggles alike, has never been a time for violence of bigotry, yet, after being dosed with the mixture, quite a few normally well mannered students began to engage is very uncharacteristic violence and plots against their Muggle neighbours. The Headmistress and staff, which have enjoyed countless years of tight relationships of trust with the students, noticed the changes almost instantly and had the students taken to the hospital for diagnostics. Thanks to quick work, the antidote was quickly spread to the infected before any damage could be done, and word was sent out to their fellow magical schools to warn them of the possible problems.
Durmstrang Institute, which had very suddenly had outbreaks of student violence, had their students taken to see healers, and the school has confirmed that their warming cloaks had been laced with Malevolent Mixture powder.
Durmstrang's High Master has locked down the school from any and all imports until the source of the tampering was identified and stopped. This has, unfortunately, put a stop to a very lucrative commodity trade between Durmstrang and its fellow magical schools until the danger is found and eradicated.
Both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons has attempted to parlay with Headmaster Dumbledore at our very own Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and demand why, if he knew about the mixture's effects on students, why they had not been informed, even as a courtesy gesture, as to the possible danger.
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has placated the masses of those entrusting their children to Hogwarts, stating that, "We had no reason to believe that the tampering was anything but a misguided school prank that got out of hand. Once we dealt with it, there were no further incidents, and I felt there was no reason to be an alarmist to our dear allies and friends of our neighbouring magical schools."
Rumours are on the rise that the Headmaster is holding back information on the dangers rising against our children in their very own school, but while there are those who seem to be waving warning flags, there are still quite a few, such as Albus Dumbledore, that believe the danger was never anything that required raising the alarm to its sister and brother schools.
An anonymous source has told us that Headmaster Dumbledore has arranged to meet with the fellow heads of the magical schools to discuss the lack of communication. Our attempts to confirm this with the Headmaster have been met with silence.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Severus panted heavily as he flopped down by the shore of the babbling stream. Romping was the sort of thing they did not get to do very often during full moons. While Minerva had made sure they had better accommodations in the Shack and had even enchanted the ceilings and walls to mirror the forest, there wasn't as much room to romp like a full blown chase through the fields and woods.
After tearing out from under the Whomping Willow, Tuft had been in full form, alternating between being chased and chasing either Hermione or Severus through the forest, and a few times they had even run into a few centaur on their nightly patrols. The centaur, both far too massive to fear werewolves and too intelligent to panic when seeing one, had identified the trio and went about their business. Tuft had always seemed to consider them part of the group package of his territory, much like sharing his territory with birds or some other species, and did not show any aggression to them.
Severus was fairly certain that Tuft's bond to "his Pack" was far more significant in his behaviour and stability than they had originally guessed. Tuft was, without the potion, able to make sound decisions, remain peaceful, and differentiate between friend and foe with little difficulty. They had even run, quite by accident, into a young witch walking with her mother outside Hogsmeade. The trio had run through at full tilt, chasing each other so intently that they had not even realised where they were. By the time Severus had realised where they had been and that they had just passed two very human and vulnerable "targets" it had been too late. Tuft, however, hadn't seemed to care. Humans, as long as they weren't threatening his den and pack-mates, might as well have been centaur or a visiting swan.
Severus realised that despite the fact he found himself in a pack with a werewolf at an early age, he knew very little about how werewolves were "supposed to be." Severus had already read many of the non-restricted books on werewolves in the library in an effort to get to know his friend. The books, however, seemed terribly misguided when it came to describing the mentality of a werewolf. Short of the physical description, anyway, all the books pointed to a mindless slavering beast that couldn't reason.
Tuft, even in the first days, had been reasonable in his own way. The growing werewolf had always been extremely playful in regards to his friends, and only recently had Severus seen the more developed drive to protect in combination with the more typical playful banter. Even so, Severus wasn't sure if it was there to begin with and just didn't have the right stimuli, or if it was something developing in the brain of a maturing werewolf. Tuft was, undoubtedly, growing into his body, and perhaps Hermione and Severus were too, much like their human forms. Growing or not, Tuft was a huge and magnificent specimen of a wolf, and if his wolf form grew with Remus, he was only going to become larger and more intimidating. He radiated health, his eyes were bright with intelligence, and if drool was an indicator of werewolf homoeostasis, well, Tuft was the picture of perfection.
After several hours of nonstop gallivanting across the moors, they had paused at last at a spring to quench their thirst, and the three wolves lapped eagerly at the chilled water, taking great relief in the pleasure of the cooling liquid across their heated tongues. While flying was still the song in his heart, Severus admitted that for at least the three nights a month when their Animagus forms shifted to join Tuft in wolfishness, he was content as long as Hermione and Remus were there to share it with him. There was something almost tangibly comforting about the bond between them, and with every night they shared, it seemed to only grow stronger.
There were times when, even with the full moon was far away, that emotions and feelings would move between them. He would see Tuft's consciousness rise in Remus through the change in eye colour, but each time it happened, there was a warm feeling that was much like a physical touch. It was companionship and warmth, and while there was never a sense of English about it, there were bursts of emotion, need, question, scents, or comfort through the growing awareness. Sometimes there would be pictures in the mind accompanied by sounds and scents. Each time it happened, the three of them would look at each other in startled surprise and then grin as though chuckling over an inside joke. What was even more amazing was that sometimes they would get a sense of Professor McGonagall curled up somewhere in a sunbeam or trotting down the hallway on her rounds as well as Master Barberry singing away on a tree branch just before beating the everliving daylights out of a robin interloper that dared to "invade his garden." Whatever it was that had formed between them, it was strongest between Remus, Hermione, and Severus, but it also included their Masters, almost as if the bond recognised how important the two Masters were in their lives.
Whatever strange magic that was weaving itself around them, it seemed like a living thing. It was both dynamic and strong, yielding and flexible, and above all, vibrant and filled with the song of Life that flowed above and below the surface of the Earth. Thinking about it kept Severus' mind busy, and he found that is was a good kind of busy. There was a time, not so long ago, that when his mind was busy, it thought of the darker things: hatred for his father, desire for escape from the brand of his father's name, the need for retribution, the delicate formation of words to create curses, and contemplation of magic that would serve to free him from the chains of his family's failure at so many things.
All of those thoughts, however, seemed so distant, and it was not, as he had first presumed, because of Lily. Somehow, his first and whom he had thought would be the only one that could look upon him with a shred of kindness was not the focus of his life anymore. And, instead of feeling bitter or denied something intrinsic to his life, he felt that they were drifting apart in the pursuit of different interests. Lily was devoted to her cohorts in all things for the modern witch, and he—he and whom could arguable be considered his best friends, were apprenticed together under the same Masters.
Despite Professor McGonagall's being blatantly Gryffindor (and a handful of those such as Avery and Mulciber thinking that made her defective in some way from the start despite the general high regard for her even amongst the Slytherin,) she had shown her apprentices nothing but the highest quality of care. She asked of them only reasonable things, such as informing her before they left to keep Remus company during his change, to tell her when they were going out to fly together or out to see the Centaurs. She asked for obedience to her wishes when she did give an order or an assignment, and the smoothness in which she both cared and demanded strict attendance kept them even more loyal. Yet, she never failed to look out for them, both tending to their school and apprenticeship needs as well as moral support when needed.
Severus admired her, though part of him knew it was very un-Slytherin to admit such things to her face. Instead, he made up for it by giving her the utmost respect of her station. He did his best to treat her like the parent he wished he could have had. He noticed that Remus, too, seemed to find something in Professor McGonagall as well as Master Barberry that he did not have at home: acceptance.
Perhaps that acceptance was the magic that had opened so many doors for both himself and Remus. He knew it wasn't just his new Masters that made it so. One bushy black-haired witch had brought them all together, and through her Severus had gained his wings (or four legs and a tail, respectively,) and Remus had gained peace with his wolf in a manner that set him apart from so many of his werewolf brethren.
Hermione yawned toothily into his face, tongue lolling, and she slurped Severus across the muzzle before flopping against him, using him as a wolfy couch. Tuft seemed to think she was onto something and proceeded to flop against her.
Severus wondered if age had anything to do with Tuft's playful and highly malleable personality. All the published researched all pointed to vicious killing machines that lived to bite, infect, or kill others. It was clear that Tuft had other ideas, so that threw most of the research to the side. Still, some of it had to be true, if only he could figure out what it was. Then again, he thought as Tuft slobbered on his ears, sometimes it was better to make real life observations rather than rely on the research of some other random wizard. He did wish that it wasn't so… slobbery.
When Master Barberry materialised out on the hilltop with Minerva in close attendance, Severus knew something had happened that was serious. They were both in their human forms, and Tuft was still in control. The werewolf's amber eyes watched them approach, but his tail was beating against the ground in recognition. The werewolf approached like a young pup, belly to the ground, tail tucked, and tongue lapping at whatever skin he could lick.
Their Masters were, apparently in the werewolf's brain, the boss of him. They were the parental figures of his pack, and respect was given regardless of form. Being able to approach a werewolf in a human form, by all accounts in the books, would have been suicidal, but Tuft had set his "mark" upon his Pack, and once done, he recognised them regardless of what shape they wore. Severus was pretty sure it was a significant sort of revelation, but he was thankful that he wasn't trying to write a paper on it.
Master Barberry was examining Tuft in between being slurped under the chin, and Professor McGonagall was examining Hermione, who was passed out, lying on her side after the night's romp. Severus, knowing he was stuck in wolf form while Tuft was in residence, wagged his tail at the Transfiguration professor.
Hermione opened one eye as McGonagall patted her down, checking for any wounds, and the phoenix in wolf's clothing yawned with a soft whine, showing all of her teeth in a lazy fit of exhaustion. Minerva switched over to pat Severus down, and he snuffled under her chin with his wet nose and lupine whiskers with a complacent woof.
Both Masters seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and Tuft bowled over Master Barberry and lay on top of his chest, panting contentedly, showing his teeth in mock threat every time Barberry stopped rubbing his ears. After Barberry indulged him for a time, he had enough of being on his back, and cupped his hand over Tuft's muzzle and sat up. Tuft rolled over with a whine, tail tucked, and rolled over and pounced on Severus. The two tumbled, growled, gnawed on each other, and generally made hay until some unseen signal seemed to happen. Both of them flopped in a heap shortly after and panted together, tongue lolling and saliva dripping. Tuft won the drooling contest, as usual.
The tension in the two Masters ebbed, and they seemed content to wait around for Remus to make his comeback. Tuft was licking Hermione's nose, and she sneezed in Tuft's face. Tuft sat down, looking confused as Hermione's tail wagged against the ground in amusement. Tuft yawned, shook his head, and then whined softly. His eyes shifted back into Remus' normal emerald and his muzzle lengthened into a wolf's normal size. Remus shook himself from nose to tail-tip with a yawning whine as Hermione and Severus reverted into their more compact bird-forms.
"I am glad you are okay, children," Master Barberry said softly, relief in both his tone and posture. "I fear we have a very important series of lessons we need to teach you starting as soon as we are all fed and washed up, and we will be leaving for my manor directly."
Remus, Severus, and Hermione popped back into human form and bowed their heads in acknowledgement.
"Shall we get our things from the dormitories?" Severus asked.
Master Barberry shook his head. "No," he replied. "I will explain more once we are under my roof, and we must make the trek out of the Anti-Apparate Jinx."
The trio nodded, spurred on by their Masters' contagious concern.
"Master," Hermione interjected. "If it will help, I can carry Remus and Professor McGonagall. If time is a concern, that is. Since both Severus and you can fly."
Barberry shook his head again. "No, children. We cannot risk being seen in the air." He looked towards Hogwarts and saw a phoenix circling one of the parapets. "Come, we must go. Quickly now."
They travelled together in unison and in silence.
Hermione, unable to take it anymore, asked, "Master, can we not use our port-key you made us?"
"Normally, I would say yes, child, but not this time," Master Barberry explained.
The trio exchanged worried glances at the enforced subterfuge.
Accepting that their Masters knew best, they concentrating on where their feet were going as they hurried through the woods.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"He was attacked by a what?" Sirius yelled.
"An escaped circus bear," James said.
"Bullshit," Sirius exclaimed.
James shook his hands out in front of him. "That's what Madam Pomfrey said. She said it with a completely straight face, mate."
"He survives being attacked by giant wolf and gets mauled… by a bear?" Sirius sputtered. "Only Peter could get that unlucky."
James pinched his nose and then slapped himself in the face as he attempted to remember something. "He's always had this crazy ideas, ya know? Adventure! Exploration! Then this happens."
Sirius frowned. "Something wasn't right last night, mate."
James looked up. "How so?"
"We almost always sneak out under the invisibility cloak," Sirius said. "Last night, he told us we didn't have time. Time for what? To be attacked by a bear?"
"You can't possibly think he meant to lead us to a mysterious house that had a dangerous trained animal in it?" James grunted.
"I'm saying it's awful convenient, James," Sirius said, "and if anything being raised as a Black has taught me, convenience is only an opportunity someone else snatched up before you."
James raised a brow. "That's an awful way of looking at something that could be random."
Sirius make a short whistle between his teeth. "I'm a Black. I was raised as the head doomsayer of my family. Usually, I was the cause of doom for my family," he admitted somewhat grimly.
"You're awfully cheerful for a doomsayer.
Sirius gave him a lopsided grin. Suddenly, however, his cheer changed into something far more serious. "My sis has been trying to tell me something was wrong for months, James. I just didn't want to think that either you or Peter could be capable of… anything like that."
"Wait, she thought I?" James butted in.
Sirius gave him a glare. "You buried my sister in sand. She has a very long memory. Slytherins carry long memories. Blacks carry even longer memories."
James, seemingly realising exactly the extent of the hole he had dug himself into without his conscious awareness, sighed. "Do you think a letter from my parents to your parents explaining I was drugged will convince her to give me chance to prove myself… less of a—"
"Arse-faced git?" Sirius recommended.
James grunted. "Yeah."
"This is my sister, James," Sirius said with a shake of his head. "Actions speak louder than words. The only time writing appeals to her more is when she's reading the newest annals of Arithmancy and the Journal of Transfiguration. I'm in the doghouse as it is, and I'm her brother."
"Well she does call you Canis, Mr Dogstar," James replied.
"Shut it," Sirius glowered. "It's bad enough that the last time I pissed her off, she transfigured my bedroom into a giant dog house with my name plaque above the entrance shaped like a bone."
James busted out laughing hysterically.
"I hate you," Sirius said, his eyebrow twitching.
"Aw, I can get you some flea dip, mate," James jested.
Sirius looked prone to murder.
James waved his hands. "Okay, okay. It's just… I can't imagine you sleeping in a room shaped like a doghouse."
"Whatever spell she used was so strong, I think she tied it into the ley lines that went through the house. Only she could remove it, and for some reason, my father and my mother seemed to think it was perfectly bloody proper. I woke up in the morning and Hermione's friends, you know, Severus and Remus were staring at me from the hallway looking like I had committed some crime worse than kissing some girl without being in a courtship. Then, my stupid menace of a younger brother clicked a camera, and the photograph is now framed over my father's favourite fireplace mantle next to the photo of Denebola, our Kneazle."
James blinked. "I can't believe I… do you think she'll hate me forever?"
Sirius gave James a cruel smile that was worthy of a Slytherin and a Black. "She doesn't hate, mate. She mets out justice. Trust me. You will get exactly what you deserve. It may not be today, tomorrow, or next week, but it will happen, and you will know it when it does."
James swallowed hard.
"See this mark here?" Sirius said, pulling up his sleeve.
James looked closer. "Your dog tattoo? What about it? I thought you got that to piss off your parents."
"Every time I've lied to her since I was four, the tattoo gets more and more detailed and more elaborate. It started out as just a paw print. They started to spread around my arm like a ring, and the last time I did it, the detailed dog head showed up along with another paw print. She knows exactly when I lied to her. She just checks my arm for more detail. Hell, my entire family does. They ask a question then pull up my sleeve and count paw prints."
James looked at Sirius with rediscovered fear.
"She did it with accidental magic when she was four when I lied to her about eating the last cookie Kreacher left for her," Sirius said grimly. "Imagine what she can do when she means it."
"You saying she didn't mean to do that then? James asked.
Sirius' lips curved up in a smirk. "Oh, she meant it. At least the dog's tail and ears she gave me wore off after a month."
"I'm starting to be glad I was born an only child," James said with a hard swallow. "Sisters are scary."
"I wouldn't trade her for the universe," Sirius said with a sombre expression. "She's taken the brunt of the responsibility of the family for my sake. Ever wonder why I can get away with being such a improper Pure-blooded git and not get blasted off my family tree? It's because of her. She protects me. She protects Regulus, and I… I have failed to believe her when she needed me to the most." Sirius wore a pained expression. "I'm a horrible git of a brother."
James shook his head. "Let's make it up to her together, Sirius." He looked at Sirius with an uncharacteristically sombre expression. "It's time we both got to the bottom why Peter always seems find trouble for us to go investigate and then gets us in trouble."
Sirius nodded and then his eyes lit up with a strange fire James had never seen before.
"What? You have that look, Sirius," James said.
Sirius' corner of his mouth quirked upward sharply. "What if we made a map that could track him wherever he went in Hogwarts?"
James stared at him. "Brilliant! I'm in!"
Sirius smiled. "Excellent."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
The apprenticed trio had become young heroes to the local werewolf population, and never had it become more clear as when a number of piles of correspondence scrolls and thank you gifts lay between them. They sat in the middle of Master Barberry's large sitting room looking over the writings and parcels. Some of them were filled with candies like chocolates, which Remus snatched with zealous enthusiasm, and some were filled with homemade baked goods with stasis charms put on them the moment they left the oven.
Minerva used the moment as a teaching opportunity, and taught her charges how to cast spells over the parcels to make sure nothing bad was in the parcels before they opened them. Every package was examined in triplicate with Minerva and Gilford looking them over after just to be sure. Out of hundreds of grateful packages, only three had angry protests that their potion was stealing what made the werewolf superior to humans. The trio frowned at the negative protests, but Barberry consoled them, stating that it was perfectly natural to have nay sayers in every good thing in the world.
Master Barberry had a visitor while the children were sorting through their mail, and it wasn't long after the newcomer had arrived that Gilford introduced them.
"Ah, Damocles, you know Master McGonagall, yes?" Barberry introduced. "These are our Apprentices, Hermione Black, Remus Lupin, and Severus Snape."
"You are the ones that made that lovely potion," the flighty wizard said with bobs of his head. "Wonderful, just wonderful. I have managed to come up with my own version of it, but while it allows the drinker to retain their mind, its use it hampered by timing."
"Ah the Cognisant Wolfsbane Potion," Barberry confirmed, passing the new guest tea. "How does it work when properly administered?"
"It takes a week of drinking the potion every night before the first full moon to work, and, unfortunately, you cannot add anything to make it more palatable to the tongue," Damocles said as he sipped his tea. "Unfortunately, the change is still agonising, the person feels trapped inside the wolf's body with dulled but persistent instincts of the wolf surging through them, and when they change back, they are far from content."
"I'm sorry, Damocles," Barberry comforted. "I know you've been working on that potion for a while now."
"Ach," Damocles tsked. "I did not have the benefit of extra minds, by my own failings. I refused your help in my quest to do it alone. Perhaps, if I had, I would have developed something better much sooner, or perhaps not."
"You're a fine potioneer, Damocles," Barberry said. "You always have been."
The younger wizard waved his hand. "Ah, no need to restore my wounded ego, Master Barberry. My formulae for a few new minor potions and salves have more than soothed my damaged pride," he said with a laugh. "I am more than happy to meet your new apprentices."
"You're Damocles?" Severus asked. "Professor Slughorn mentioned you. He said you were a gifted potioneer."
Damocles shook his hand and smiled. "Horace would have you believe I brew potions in my sleep and dream up new formulae."
"You don't?" Remus asked with a grin.
The younger wizard laughed, brushing back his hair that somehow managed to be both red and gold at the same time. He had a kind smile and an amused warmth to his eyes. "Aye, and I bottle my flatulance because it smells like rain on a spring day, if you would believe Horace."
The children giggled and took turns shaking his hand.
Damocles handed them all a vial of pale blue liquid. There were particles suspended within, giving it the look of glitter. "These are for you until your lessons are complete. It is not as foolproof as being able to hide your thoughts and memories yourself, but it will keep your mind protected by filling it random mental fluff and facts that will make it exceedingly horrific for an Legilimens to read you casually or nonchalantly. As I understand, the lot of you have much to protect from our… mutual acquaintance, and I spent many of my hours after graduation developing this potion specifically because of Legilimens such as our Hogwarts Headmaster."
Barberry and Minerva nodded to the children and they took the vials with a nod of thanks.
"One drop under the tongue," Damocles instructed. "It will last all day. Take it each morning when you wake up. When the vial is almost empty, mix it with pure water and set it under the moon for a night. By morning it will have recreated itself in the vial. The vials are special. My own invention."
The three children looked at him with amazement and excitement.
"Thank you for bringing this," Barberry thanked Damocles. "I wish I could have called upon you for something far less important."
"Nay, Master Barberry," Damocles said. "I spent seven years of my life being read by that man with the twinkling eyes as he pretended to be benign and caring of my well-being. He always 'somehow' knew all my secrets. He always knew where to show up and what time to catch me working extra time in Horace's laboratory. Anything I can do to keep others from falling victim to the man's insidious 'helpfulness' is payment enough."
"I thank you all the same," Barberry said with a smile.
"Remember," Damocles warned, "that you should never look the man in the eyes, for that allows him to get into your head much faster. This potion will not protect you against a direct assault for long. My only hope is that if he or anyone else were to do such a thing, it would give you time to put up proper defences."
The trio nodded to him, clutching their vials with gratitude.
"The Occlumency lessons shall begin in earnest, regardless, after lunch," Barberry said with a smile. "Are you sure there isn't something we can offer to assist you, Damocles? You have given us quite the gift today."
Damocles lowered himself onto the floor with the trio and bit his lip slightly. "I would ask of you one thing, my young potioneers," he said with a worried smile. "My uncle… he was bitten by a werewolf while he walked home from a revel in the woods during a solstice gathering. It was he that inspired my work on the potion to begin with, and it was he that has helped me test my potion on him. He is too proud to stand in line with other werewolves and admit he has a problem, but he is suffering. I would ask of you, for permission to brew the potion for my uncle, not to usurp any deals you may have made with other potioneers that give you your rightful proceeds, but to ease his torment. I learned to be an Animagus under Master Barberry specifically for the purpose to keep him company three nights of the month, and I know his agony haunts him and his wife, who worries for him. I beg you. This is all I would ask of you."
Hermione and Remus nudged Severus in the ribs, causing him to startle. Severus looked up, eyes wide, having forgotten that officially, the last word was his when it came to the potion they had created together.
"Thank you, Damocles," Severus said with a bow of his head. "You have honoured us with your help, and I would give you permission to brew the Wolfsbane Potion for your uncle. I feel that I can speak for all of us safely in the opinion that no one should suffer in their lycanthropy now that they do not have to."
"Blessings upon you, children," Damocles answered, the start of tears forming in his eyes. "You three are very talented, but your hearts are equally well endowed, and I thank you for that."
"Would you like us to show you how we brew them?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Tell you what," Damocles said. "If Master Barberry approves, I will teach you all how to brew the mind shielding potion and how to enchant the potion vials to refill their contents, and then you can teach me how to brew your wonderful potion. Is it a deal?"
The trio stared at their Masters with hopeful eyes.
Barberry and McGonagall nodded in affirmative.
"Excellent," Damocles said, clasping his hands together. "Let's get started!"
-o-o-o-o-o-
Knowledge, Severus was starting to find out, was the currency of the learned. Barter in formulae and bits of worldly wisdom went a long way to procure friends and allies amongst the educated Masters, and while Masters Barberry and McGonagall had them keep their secrets close when speaking with other apprentices when it came to highly coveted knowledge, they were highly encouraged to broker deals of knowledge exchange such as they did with Damocles.
Damocles, while not a Potion Master, was a highly respected potioneer in the field, and judging by Master Barberry's interactions with him, the trio knew it was completely acceptable to exchange the currency of learning with him whenever they wished.
Formulae were often exchanged between Masters, but, they were also kept secret and used only for personal use by default. They hadn't realised it at the time, but their bargain with Damocles was considered a test of their good will and willingness to forward the field of potions and the reputation of their combined masters. They had passed with flying colours.
"Why is it that Professor Dumbledore is not one of the Masters on the Board?" Remus had asked as they had dinner with a small group of Masters and Apprentices on Master Barberry's green.
Master Highweather snorted in response in a very unfeminine manner. "Albus Dumbledore was or is, depending on how you see it, a very talented student of magic, but," she explained in between bites of her evening meal, "he is not one who shares knowledge as you have come to see. The sharing and preservation of knowledge and wisdom is much of what we do."
Master Willowbark nodded as he stirred his coffee. "He has always been a man who preferred to hold his secrets close to him and share only what needed to be shared at the very last moment. He would, quite often, ask for an exchange of information to learn from any of our fellow Masters, but after learning our secrets, the information he would share in exchange would be conjecture or vague theory rather than confirmed useful knowledge. He would feign innocence in this, and eventually many of the Masters began to refuse to parley with him. "
"Yes," Master Teaworth added, "and he strangely pulled out of residency and moved on to teach at Hogwarts shortly after, abandoning his pursuit of Mastery for teaching academia, or so he would have you believe."
"I think," Master Greenpetal said with a sniff, "that it was due to that charming young lady that came in to visit him. Ariana, I believe was the young lady's name."
"It was his younger sister, I believe, Marcus," Teaworth said thoughtfully. "She had slipped away from his brother, Aberforth. Poor girl was attacked by Muggles as a girl. She lost control of her magic. It was the death of her mother, a tragic accident, but it was the one thing that Albus believed kept him from being able to seek his true destiny with that young wizard from Durmstrang—Gellert Grindelwald."
"Master, didn't Dumbledore defeat Gellert in a duel?" the young wizard that was sitting beside Teaworth questioned.
"Aye, lad, he did," Teaworth said. "Like all relationships, some become stronger and some fade away. Whatever had bound the two of them together when they were young and foolhardy was not enough. They parted in the most violent of ways, with Gellert being imprisoned in his once fortress of Nurmengard. This was many years after Ariana visited the Master's residencies looking for Albus, however."
"Gellert was ultimately blamed for Ariana's death many years later," Greenpetal noted. "It was all over the Prophet. His descent into the Dark Arts had consumed him, or so they said, so much so that Albus could no longer deny its affect on his friend. It was said that at one time, the pair of them were striving to change the world to where the International Statute of Secrecy would no longer be necessary, but the true reason for their partnership can only be guessed at. Their true desires were apparently not shared between them. Each had their own reason to want the secrecy changed. Ariana, however, seemed to be Dumbledore's and he retreated into teaching after her death, shunning all our attempts to reach out to him after her tragic death."
The rest of the dinner hours were spent discussing more academic subjects, and the trio made some fast friends with the other apprenticed young witches and wizards from the other Masters. Despite the open sharing nature of the dinners, none of them were ignorant that what was discussed at the table was not to be shared outside of those who were there to the initial sharing. The trio used it as an exercise in filing away knowledge in appropriate places, flagging each conversation with the appropriate markers of who, what, when, and where.
Teaworth's apprentice taught the trio how to make a compound that could be used to fill in the cracks in magical items and not interrupt the flow of magic, saying that with all the experiments they would probably be doing as an apprentice, being able to fix the things they broke accidentally was just as important as admitting when things went wrong.
Hermione, in exchange, taught their fellow apprentice how to make the Black Family's calming tea, which she said every member of her family knew how to make by the age of five due to a hereditary proclivity to overreact to anything and everything when the conditions were right. Unlike the calming draught, it was not addictive, save for the appealing taste, and did not knock out the drinker when combined with other potions. It was also perfectly acceptable to drink before taking exams and blended with other drinks, and Hermione had confessed that she had dosed her younger brother, Regulus, with it on a number of nights when he was bouncing off the walls in enthusiasm for some random something by slipping it into his lemonade.
By the time night was falling and it was time for the trio to romp with Tuft, all of the non Animagi had moved to the upper balcony to have tea and conversation and all the other apprentices had been sent home. The trio chased each other through the hedges and flowers. Minerva, getting a mischievous glint in her eyes, chased the trio around the garden, and the three, so ingrained to submit to the elder Animagus, rolled on their backs and exposed their bellies to her. Minerva flopped on top of them like a conquering hero, giving off a smug feline yawn of superiority.
"Never would have believed it if I didn't see it, Gilford," Greenpetal said with a tilt of his head. "I read the documentation, heard the testimonies, and was even there distributing the first of the potions to the public the morning it went out—"
"Not that I'd ever tell anyone and break confidence," Teaworth agreed, "but it's amazing that the boy is so happy now. I only wish I could tell his father and convince him that this is a far better fate for his son than locking him away in a cage in the basement."
"Lyall was always a fanatic about the dangers of werewolves, Sasha," Barberry said. "Trying to convince him that anything other than a complete cure being the right way to go is something we will have to do slowly.
"You say that the other two are not even infected?" Highweather asked, watching Minerva get drooled on.
"Most strange thing," Barberry replied. "The entire lot are Animagi, but for three days of the month, Apprentices Black and Snape both shift into wolves with him. Every other day they are birds."
"Animagi before their third year in school," Teaworth chuckled. "No wonder you pounced on them. I can see now why Minerva is so protective of them. I've never seen her so happy since—"
"The death of her last husband, aye," Greenpetal said with a shake his head. It is good to see her happy again. Inspired."
"I'm glad you and Minerva felt you could trust us with this," Willowbark commented with a soft smile.
"If something odd happens to us," Barberry trailed off.
"We will take care of them, Gilford," Willowbark said, as the other masters nodded their heads in assent.
"But, we will do our best to help ensure that nothing does," Teaworth said. "I'm sure I'm not alone in saying that I would be glad to assist in helping with whatever lessons you think they need to protect their minds and their secrets.
Barberry let out a sigh of relief. "I am glad to hear it, my old friends."
There was a splash and all the masters looked out over the terrace and lifted their eyebrows in unison. The three lupine garden rompers had dove into the large garden fountain to cool off and were paddling about in the moonlight.
"I feel like I should have taken you up on those Animagus lessons, Gilford. I'm missing out on something spectacular," Willowbark grunted.
"Never too late, Danon," Barberry laughed at Willowbark.
"Psh," Willowbark muttered, but his smile was warm as he sipped his tea and watched Minerva perched on top of one of the black wolves' heads and used it to bat at the water-logged werewolf.
"Animagi get to have all the fun," Teaworth laughed.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Sunday, September 24th, 1972, Waning Gibbous 98%
Minerva yawned as the early morning sun peaked over the garden. A gentle touch on her shoulder rubbed her muscles, and she let out a soft purr despite herself.
"Good morning, Minerva," Barberry chuckled. "Have a nice evening with the our four-legged apprentices?"
"You should try it, Gilford," McGonagall chuckled.
"Hrm," Barberry answered. "The last time I tried that, there was a very drool-covered robin being carried around in the mouth of a werewolf-who-thinks-he's-a-labrador-retriever."
Minerva grinned. "Tuft likes you."
"I'm fairly certain he likes everyone," Barberry snorted.
"Not everyone," Minerva said solemnly, thinking back to a certain Peter Pettigrew.
"That reminds me, Minerva," Barberry said. "I preserved those memories you gave me, and gave copies to the other masters. If he somehow breaks through your barriers and through the potion or you forget conversations we've had together, we will be able to restore them to you."
Minerva nodded. "Thank you," she said with a grim nod. "Something caused Tuft to attack Peter Pettigrew while he was transformed into a rat, Gilford. Tuft is hardly a violent sort, and we have always been good about feeding Remus well before the shift and leaving food for Tuft so he is not driven by hunger. Something provoked him, and it has something to do with Peter, who is an unregistered Animagus."
"You did the checking in the records then?" Barberry asked.
Minerva gave a curt nod. "There is only one Peter on the list and it is Master Peter Angler, who had the form of a swordfish."
"That must have been amusing at parties," Gilford quipped.
Minerva shoved Barberry on the shoulder with a huff. "I looked for rodents, and the only ones I saw were Master Tian Shan, who had the form of a Ili pika, Samantha Camphor, who took the form of nutria, and Erebor Grainhest, who was a chinchilla. There were a number of bat and squirrel Animagi, but still, no rats."
Barberry raised his brows in surprise. "I'm oddly surprised there were no smaller rodents such as mice.
"Well there was a kangaroo rat," Minerva said with a sigh.
"Hardly the same thing," Barberry chuckled.
A call came out from across the garden, and Barberry waved the visitor in. Three groggy apprentices hurriedly shuffled in from the garden ahead of the guest, having realised they slept through the morning in a lupine and avian pileup, and their masters had let them!
"Come in, come in, Mr Schattenjäger," Barberry called as he waved the wizard in.
"Master Barberry," Schattenjäger greeted. "Call me Klaus, Master Barberry. We've known each other far too long for you to call me by my surname."
"And I have told you to call me Gilford, Klaus," Barberry chuckled. "Come, sit. You remember Master McGonagall?"
"Minerva, please," McGonagall said, extending her hand.
Klaus took her hand, and brought it to his lips in a formal greeting. "You are as beautiful as ever, Minerva," Klaus said with a smile. "Pray, tell me that you have finally accepted my proposal for courtship, that I might make you my queen." He allowed his voice to take on the German accent that he had skillfully hidden earlier.
Minerva flushed and thrust tea into his hands. "Sit, you old charmer, before I hex you."
Klaus laughed. "It has not worked for over three decades, but I still hold out in the hope that you will take me up on it."
Barberry chuckled. "It won't work, old friend. She is determined to refuse us both." Barberry made a gesture of pain, clutching his chest as though to comfort his heart.
"Both of you!" Minerva huffed. "Drink your tea." She blushed furiously, trying to hide her attraction to the two highly skilled and glib of tongue wizards who fancied her.
"Yes, ma'am," the two chimed together with a wink, causing Minerva to roll her eyes.
"I see you received my owl quickly," Barberry said to Schattenjäger.
"Aye, Gilford," Klaus replied. "They sent me because I, too, am an Animagus as well as an Auror and the Registry will take my word on what I find. It is a formality, however, as your word as well as Minerva's is already highly respected."
"We would both prefer an official Auror to look it over," Minerva said. "The situation is… delicate."
Klaus tilted his head. "I gathered from your owl that there is some thought of conspiracy within Hogwarts?"
"I cannot say conspiracy as much as hidden agendas, Klaus," Minerva said. "I worry foremost for our students, and with Poppy conveniently forgetting our conversation only hours before, I am not sure who is involved. I can say, for sure, that Gilford and the other Masters on the Board are not. But, from within Hogwarts, I cannot say, and I cannot risk revealing that I suspect let it get back to the one that is. I cannot risk that something happens to myself or Gilford and leave our apprentices without—"
Klaus touched her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. "Apprentices are like our children, Minerva. I understand. They are, almost, more than just our children. On them, all our hopes and dreams rest with the intimacy of family born of choice."
Minerva smiled at him, patting his hand gently with hers.
Klaus smiled at her and pulled back. "Well, show me the bitten appendages, and we can start there." He pulled out a small crystal from his pocket. He tapped it with his wand and it hovered in mid air. "On this day, Sunday, the 24th of September, One thousand and seventy two, I start this recording of the examination of—" he paused as Minerva put down the bundle with the snapped off rat foot suspended in stasis. "One severed rodent hind foot, apparently large rodent, probably rat as it is far too large for a mouse, and it is not the right shape to be ground or tree squirrel."
Klaus waved his wand over the foot. "Confirmation by diagnostic identifies hind foot as brown rat. Fur is brown until it approaches the foot, where the change is a light blond and white covering pink skin. Claws are encrusted with dirt and plant material, somewhat atypical of a healthy, well-groomed wood-rat. I am now releasing the stasis on the hind foot in order to examine it more closely."
Klaus waved his wand and released the stasis spell over the suspended foot. As he reached to manipulate it, the foot spasmed and convulsed, and in a matter of seconds, had transformed into a human foot.
The Auror stared at it blankly, seemingly gathering his thoughts. "Hind foot of brown rat has, on release of the stasis charm, reverted into a human foot. Confirmed transfiguration. Whether by choice or duress is unknown." He waved his wand. "Confirmed trace points to Animagus. Forced transfiguration would have a different signature.
"The foot is from a human male with no evidence of hybrid features. Age is approximately twelve to fourteen and under the influence of some sort of potion of undetermined origin. Potion is nothing standard known by Aurors. Master Barberry, could you lend your assistance in analysis?"
Barberry nodded. "Of course. I could run quite a few spell scans, but, with your permission, could I obtain a sample of the blood?"
Schattenjäger nodded. "Please do."
Barberry took a small collection rod from a pouch in his robe and swabbed the foot of the blood. He blinked as he looked closer. "Something is caught in between the toes, Klaus. It was covered in the dirt and blood."
Klaus frowned and looked closer, summoning a light to look closer at the disembodied foot. He eyed the skin with clinical detachment. "A ring?" he stated. "It looks like a… this ring is attached, Gilford. It's a toe ring." The Auror stared, frowning. He stared at the blood-soaked band. He waved his wand over it, saying a chain or words in German.
"A ring is around the fourth toe of the foot," Klaus stated. "It appears to be crafted of horn or perhaps tightly bound hair. Highly infused with magical purpose. The magic appears to be tuned to a specific person or animal. It seems to be a protective shield of some sort. Possibly, no confirmed to be a mental ward."
Barberry and McGonagall frowned in unison. Klaus looked up at them with a concerned look on his face.
"Es knistert im Gebälk," Klaus muttered. "This is troubling, my friends. The nature of this ring is to shield the mind from whose hair went into the making. It is a very deliberate charm. Blood magic was used to bind it to this body." He pointed to the disembodied foot. "Since it is no longer attached, however, it allowed the ring to be removed. It would not have come loose otherwise."
Minerva peered at the formed ring with concern. "Is there a way to figure out who it meant to protect against?"
"Ja," the Auror replied grimly. "It will take some time to layer the spells correctly…"
"We will leave you to it, old friend," Barberry said with a nod. "In the meantime, I will analyse this blood sample as you requested."
"Danke," Klaus said with a nod, taking a swig of the tea near him.
Minerva and Gilford nodded simultaneously and exited the room, leaving the Auror to his work.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"It's ingenious," Klaus said with an oddly respectful tone. "I've never seen such a complex use of charms mixed with Dark magic."
"Are you sure it's specifically against… Albus?" Minerva asked, wringing her hands reflexively.
"Ja, old friend," Klaus said grimly. "It is his hair that went into the ring's making. It was, however, someone else's blood that combined with it."
"Blood magic?" Minerva flinched.
"Very dark Magic," Klaus said. "It was concealed when it bonded to the skin of the toe. Very clever. Subtle. These are like relics of the Old Wars. The wars when wizards fought wizards out on the streets like dogs and raped each other's minds with no other reason than gaining the upper advantage. Back then, it was considered worth it to kill an innocent to protect yourself against someone else. Those were very dark times."
"How is it that I do not recall more of such things, Klaus?" Minerva asked.
"Rumour said," Klaus replied, "that the English Ministry back then could do only one thing to bring peace back to the people."
"Make it disappear," Gilford said with a scowl.
"Exactly." Schattenjäger drew his fingers across his dark beard. "It was methodical. Once the main powers in play were destroyed, history was changed. Magic was 'rewritten.' It was why the Aurors were created. Back then, Aurors were specially trained hunting hounds. We were justicars, zealots, and assassins of kings. Today, Oblivators are very specialised and are not always Aurors. Back then, they were one the same."
"The reason why the Dark magic of today does not include as much blood magic is that the elder Aurors used to Obliviate all knowledge of such things out of the minds of Dark wizards," Schattenjäger continued. "Few escaped. The wizards back then were all solitary, trusting or confiding in no one. Knowledge was not written down or shared. Apprentices were rarely taken. Hunting them down and eliminating it was… easier. Peace prospered, Aurors were no longer needed for the purposes they were, and we became what we are today."
"Yet, some of this magical knowledge must have been written down or passed on?" Minerva commented. "How else would we see this now?"
"Rumours once said the great hidden library of Salazar Slytherin once held the vast knowledge of his time," Gilford said, rubbing his ear with his fingers. "Riots from the Muggles burned his library to the ground, but it is said he escaped with a few precious tomes and squirrelled them away in some secret place known only to him."
"The Chamber of Secrets," Minerva whispered.
"Aye, that is the rumour, Minerva," Gilford replied.
"Your Chamber may be a rumour at Hogwarts," Klaus said thoughtfully, "but it may have been far more real than you think. The magic used to create this ring was from the time of the Founders."
"The Dark Ages," Gilford sighed.
The German Auror sniffed. "Indeed, and whoever found the way to craft this ring, my friends, probably knows even darker magic of blood and souls. What, however, I cannot say for certain."
Minerva and Gilford exchanged glances.
"Tell me, Gilford," Klaus said. "What did your blood sample tell you?"
"The blood was laced in an age affecting potion," Gilford said. "It's bound to the blood. It would gradually wear off after a few months as the blood naturally replenishes. It was an old recipe that Master Elderthorn created at the turn of the century to add one drop to his cosmetics line for witches to 'retain their youthful appearance'. It was discontinued when they found out mixing it with other potions such as a blood replenisher potion affected the mind and made you revert to the mind of child randomly. They had hundreds of witches who had been treated at Mungos start acting like babbling children. Some of them had reverted mentally to the age of five and were crying for their parents. They remembered nothing of their adult lives for hours or days, sometimes months at a time."
Minerva and Klaus stared at Gilford with some horror.
"One of those unforeseen side-effects," Gilford said with a shrug.
Minerva seemed to think of something. "Wait, Gilford," she whispered. "If the person whose foot this is was truly Peter Pettigrew, then the blood replenishers Poppy gave him may have—"
"He may never be right in the head again, Minerva," Barberry said grimly.
Klaus looked concerned. "Do we have any data on how it would affect an Animagus?"
Gilford's eyes widened in thought. "I don't imagine it would go well, but I could not even begin to speculate. The balance of the human mind over the animal instinct could dissolve."
"Either way, dear Minerva," Klaus commented. "You will know for certain if this Peter Pettigrew was truly your Animagus in question."
Minerva's face looked grim. "And then we are left with a hundred new questions in the wake."
"Like why your Headmaster Oblivated the memory of Peter Pettigrew's injuries from your mind during your meeting," Gilford said. "You were wise to send your memories to me before the meeting. When you had no memory of the incident when I contacted you in the morning, I knew you had been right to do so."
"I trusted Albus," Minerva said, her fingers clenched. "I have always trusted Albus until… I cannot believe he would Oblivate me! Well, I can now. The others warned me that there was something off about him, an agenda, or hidden goal, but I stood up for him. He's the one who suggested I train under you, Gilford!"
"We have other worries we need to concern ourself with, regardless," Barberry said with a grimace. "We must protect our own. Now more than ever. We must start hording our memories in secret in the case they are wiped, but we must also do our best to see that we are not wiped to begin with."
"If I may, old friend," Klaus interrupted, tapping his finger to his temple. "My family has always been good at preventative paranoia. It is why I became an Auror. I shall help you, if you wish it."
"I will not turn down an ally and friend, Klaus," Barberry said with a smile. "You know that."
Schattenjäger grinned. "I was hoping you would say that. We shall make them the most paranoid and well prepared apprentices this side of the ocean."
Minerva snorted. "I will speak with Lord Black and give him a courtesy conference. Severus' mother has already signed the paperwork giving us the right of proxy. The Lupin's have done the same for Remus. Lord and Lady Black have expressed trust in us, but I would prefer they were in the know. It would not behove us to leave the Black family in the dark."
"No it would not," Barberry agreed. "And it will be a cold day in the inferno the day any Black denies their child the opportunity to learn more ways in which to protect themselves."
Minerva laughed. "True."
"Well then," Barberry said. "I'll leave it to you, Minerva. Let's bring in the children after to meet Klaus. I am sure they are bustling with curiosity now that we've banished them to do all of their homework for Hogwarts before the 'real' work can be done."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Peter Pettigrew woke in the bed he was lying in in a cold sweat, giving a yell of terror.
"Hey, it's okay!" a female voice soothed beside him.
Peter looked around frantically.
A curly-haired witch with flaming red locks looked at him cheerfully. "You've had a rough night, Peter."
"Wuh… Where am I?"
"Hospital wing," the girl answered. "Madam Pomfrey took good care of you. I'm sorry about the bear, Peter. I had no idea there were bears out in the Forbidden Forest."
"In my dream it was the wolf," Peter said fearfully. "In my dream, I made it angry on purpose."
"Why would you do that, Peter? The girl frowned.
"I don't remember," Peter said, clutching his head. "I don't remember… You're Lily right?"
Lily nodded with concern.
"I remember you, but, I can't remember—eugh," he moaned. "My leg."
Lily looked even more concerned. "I'm afraid there wasn't much they could do. Madam Pomfrey had some connections over at St Mungos come over and fit a prosthetic. It's much better than the ones you see in the Muggle world. It's not at all a peg leg like you see in pirate stories."
Peter looked down at his leg, and his face changed into a look of despair. "It was real. It was… the wolf. It took my foot."
"It was a bear, Peter," Lily said. "Frankly, I'm not sure why they don't fence off the forest like the Muggles do if it's so dangerous. Headmaster Dumbledore said it was escaped circus bear according to the reports, so it was kind of a freak accident. Still, you really shouldn't have been back there. James and Sirius told me that you guys were exploring after curfew. The professors told us never to go out there!"
"I was—" Peter trailed off. "I wasn't in a forest? I was in a room or a room that looked like a forest."
Lily gave him an odd look.
Peter looked confused. "I… the mission? James is safe?"
Lily looked at him strangely. "The arrogant git is fine, Peter. He's like he always is."
Peter looked relieved and confused at the same time. "Good, can't have him friend the wolf. The wolf must be alone. Suffer alone." The boy winced in pain and passed out again.
"Poor thing," Lily patted his arm as she sat her vigil over him. "That must be one really confusing nightmare."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Dear Regulus,
I am happy you are settling into your routine at Hogwarts, my son. It brings me great joy to know you are making us proud at the school.
I wouldn't worry too much about your sister, my son. She is quite busy with her apprenticeship, and from what I have learnt from both of her Masters, she will have a very busy time ahead of her, indeed. It is work befitting a Black, and perhaps, if you can make her life somewhat easier in her busy work, she may teach you a thing or two. Do not be disappointed if she refuses you, my son. There are some things that must remain between the Master and the Apprentice, and that is a covenant that cannot be betrayed, lest all of what we stand for as Blacks be lost. Do not pressure her or guilt her if she refuses you. Trust that what she will be willing to teach you, you will be ready for and that she able to do so without betraying her Masters.
That being said, beware of those all too eager to teach you seemingly rare or coveted knowledge, for what they are enticing you with may seem grand, but the price may come at a time much later when guilt will pressure you to do things you do not wish to do.
This Avery and Mulciber you speak of seem to offer things with honeyed tongues and no strings, but I can almost guarantee you the strings are there. Be wary. You have been wise to seek my counsel in this, and you have been wise as well to pay attention to those friends which your sister has introduced to you personally. This is far safer than putting your trust in those who seem… too good to be true. You say they offer you power and influence, but I will tell you now, my son, that power and influence come from hard work on your part. Anyone who offers it like an entitlement is lying to you. Any who can seemingly conjure it from thin air, has their hands in the cookie jar and have already stolen the sweetest morsels for themselves.
All the influence that our family has came from hard work and many discussions, deals, covenants, treaties, and agreements over equally many years. The alliances we have mean so much more because of these long histories of cooperation. Beware those willing to betray such histories too quickly for newer and shinier relationships. Those types, much like those who newly come into money, are far too wrapped up in the swell of the newness and the rush of newfound power to appreciate the past or the future of our children. This is important, my son, for when you are grown and have a family of your own to protect and provide for, both the future and the past must unite to keep them safe. It is what I and your mother strive to do in providing for you, your brother, and your sister.
We are, unfortunately, coming upon a time when the old ways are being seen as outdated and less shiny, but you should not allow the new ways to taint your respect for the way things have been. Keep your mind open, as always, to the ebb and flow of what is going on around you, but do not make haste to decide on what is truly better until you know all that there is to know. To do otherwise, my son, is unwise.
Congratulations on finding the lost kitten in the rose bushes, Regulus. It seems that we, as male heirs of the Black family, are doomed to find wayward cats. While it seems that she has not taking a shine to you, specifically, perhaps she is meant for someone else at Hogwarts. You should keep your eyes open, my son, in case you find someone in the future. Do not take this as a reason to shirk responsibility in taking care of her until this comes to pass. We must take our duties seriously, no matter how small we may think them. I will owl you a parcel with Denebola's favourite food to keep her healthy. I assure you, while she loves the bacon you are feeding her, it is probably not a staple food fitting a growing kitten.
Your mother sends her love, as do I.
Your loving father,
Orion (his seal, the Belt of Orion) (seal of the House of Black)
p.s. The best way to lure your sister, the phoenix, to your side is much like the bird of her namesake. I have sent a bundle of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and mangoes to assist you in this task ahead. Do not give in to the temptation to devour them yourself, or I will send word to Madam Pomfrey to let you lay in bed, clutching your stomach as your personal greed eats you from within.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
My Lord Father,
I am not sure what sort of test you gave my darling younger brother most recently, but I am afraid whatever it was, he failed it. He has been in the infirmary, clutching his stomach, moaning that he should have listened and that Madam Pomfrey will not ease his pain at your behest.
I, Severus, and Remus have taken up custody of the kitten while Regulus is… occupied. You were quite accurate. She is very cute and obnoxiously fluffy. She has even charmed the young Lord Malfoy, and I have caught him slipping her pieces of fish from his dinner plate during evening meals.
There is a new staff member that seems to sulk about, but I have never once seen him at the Head Table. It seems that while he is considered staff, as I have seen the other faculty and staff speak with him, he does not sit with the faculty during meals. This leads me to believe his position is not that of a professor, yet, I have seen the Headmaster direct him to do things around the grounds. Perhaps, he is the new caretaker. Master McGonagall had mentioned that they were looking for someone for the position, but things have been so busy, I have been completely unable to remember asking her about it.
He seems to avert his eyes whenever I or anyone else looks his direction, and I have heard others in the halls call him a squib in a very rude manner. I cannot imagine being born without magic, my father. The very thought scares me to the bones. I can only imagine what it would be like trying to make a life in a magical world when you, yourself, cannot embrace its splendor.
This is an odd thing, father, but it seems like he is quite lonely and isolated. His quarters is far from the travelled places in the school. It's almost as if the Headmaster wants him to be apart from us… or us from him. I am not sure which.
Do you think we should befriend him? Would that be proper? I am not sure what would be proper in this case. I am not even sure what title to call him by. I do not wish to insult the man as the first thing I do.
You loving daughter,
Hermione (her seal, the phoenix)
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Dearest, my daughter,
Your father sends his regrets that he cannot write you himself, but he is currently, quite literally, knee deep in Kneazles. One of his old friends came to visit, and they were doing some custom spell crafting. Somehow, while they were attempting to duplicate a tea service, Denebola jumped in at just the wrong moment.
We now have a rampaging horde of orange Kneazles pinning both your father and his friend, Xavier, to the floor of his study. I refuse to go in there, lest the Kneazles take a shine to me and I end up flat on the floor, pinned by Kneazles. I am refraining from bringing up how it could have been avoided if he'd never let the orange menace into our house to begin with, but I do so wish to. Alas, Denebola is a member of our family at this point. His clones, however, I am unsure what we will do with.
Xavier seems to believe they will disappear in a day or two, as the spell they had crafted had a time limiter on it, but we are currently on day two and have yet to see any sign of disappearance.
My recommendation, my daughter, is that you and your friends do your best to befriend this new staff member. From how you describe it, it seems that he is being isolated for some purpose, but that tends to do only one thing, in my experience: make them more susceptible to the "kindness" of some future rescuer. It is my opinion, and your father would agree if he were not busy, that the more allies you and your friends have at Hogwarts, the better. He may be, as you say, a squib, but that may make him all the more loyal to you in the future if he finds a friend in you now.
I would greet him with the highest formality you would treat one of the staff of Hogwarts, since you do not know a title. A formal curtsy is probably unnecessary, but a respectful half-curtsy or bow of the head would suffice as a first introduction until station can be worked out. Even so, no matter what you find out, he is a staff member of Hogwarts, and that alone requires a bit of deference.
As much as I loathe to inflict a cat upon another innocent soul, perhaps you should take the kitten with you. A person forced to live alone surrounded in both students and faculty, would undoubtedly hunger for some sort of social interaction. Perhaps, you could use the kitten as an icebreaker to this unknown fellow.
Regardless of how you tend to it, I wish you luck. I am sure, however, that you will do well.
I have sent an owl parcel of cookies and fruit for you and your friends to share. You are not allowed to share any of it with Regulus after the stunt he pulled!
Your loving mother,
Walburga (seal of the House of Black)
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Dear Severus,
My son, I have decided to take up Lord Black's generous help in finding myself a safe haven away from your father's incessant drinking and abuse. He was quite right in being concerned.
Last week, in his drunken haze, he knocked me down the stairs of the house and passed out. Fortunately, only the railing was broken and not myself, but I have come to realise that there is nothing my staying with him will do to help him. He is, in fact, getting worse.
Lord and Lady Black have been very helpful in finding me a small Wizarding community in Cornwall. There is a small fishing village nearby, a beautiful lighthouse, and clean sea air that I haven't been able to enjoy since my childhood. It reminds me so much of the home I grew up in.
Lord Black has been, on my behalf, speaking with my estranged family that thought me dead when I eloped to be with your father. He is the most accomplished diplomat, and I do not know what I would have done without his help. He is convinced that once the reason for my leaving him is finalised, the marriage annulment will allow me to return to the fold of the Prince family and their combined protection. There was no sealing of magic when I and Tobias married, and the Prince family will see that as marriage that never happened. My only concern, which I have spoken to both Lord and Lady Black about, is you. I do not wish you to thought of as less because your father's line. I do not wish to be forbidden to acknowledge you for the sake of a family name. Regardless of what is to happen, I will write when I know what it will be.
I love you, Severus. Please, do not forget this. Pray, forgive me for not having fled with you sooner and spared you the childhood I know was not kind to you.
Love,
Your Mother (no seal)
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Dear Mother,
Do not worry about me, mother. I am fine. My education goes well, and I do not think ill of you for getting out from under my father's heavy hand. Do what you need to do to stay safe and alive. That is all I could ask of you.
My Masters have both sworn I will be taken care of, and Lord and Lady Black have opened their home to me for the summer months and holidays when we are not specifically staying at our Masters' residences.
If you have a chance to reconcile with your birth family, I think you should embrace it. I know you love me, mother. I will hold that in my heart until the day I am no more, but do not worry if your family wishes to distance themselves from me for my father's sake. I cannot blame them. My father is a horrible man.
One day, perhaps, when I am grown and have made a name for myself, I will be able to stand on the name of Snape and prove myself not a product of my father's genes buy my own worth. Then, the Prince family will have nothing to be ashamed of, save perhaps, judging me without knowing me first.
There is always the hope, mother, that your family may surprise you, for if anything sharing a home with Lord and Lady Black and studying under two Masters has taught me, is that value is in the deed, not hearsay. Or, perhaps, as you once said to me, "Proof is in the pudding."
Regardless of what happens, I will always be your son.
Love,
Severus, (his seal, the eagle and the serpent)
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Dear Apprentice Severus Snape,
I, Lady Irene Prince of the House of Prince, send greetings.
It has come to my attention that not only has my daughter been found alive, to which I have never lost hope, but that we have been blessed with a grandson. It was with great joy that not only has the dream that I would not die before reuniting with my beloved daughter come to pass, but also, that I may get to meet the grandson I was never allowed to meet as a younger child.
It is my hope, Severus, that you would agree to meet with me, perhaps, under the supervision of your combined Masters in order to make you feel less uncomfortable. I have read much about you in the papers, long before I realised you were my kin. You have done very well for yourself, and all of it has been done without the assistance of money or influence. That proves to me that you are a person worthy to get to know, and I would be greatly interested in meeting you face to face. There is much I would wish to ask you about your life and your interests, as I'm sure there is much you would ask of me as well.
Sincerely,
Lady Irene Prince (seal of the House of Prince)
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Dear Mum,
You were right, mum. The first few months have been lonely and cold, but I have made friends, and they are not who I expected them to be.
Headmaster Dumbledore had been the only one to visit me until a few weeks ago, but lately, if I dare believe it, I have found friends.
Four students from Hogwarts have taken it upon themselves to know me, and despite my residence being far from their dormitories, they visit almost every night, even if only for a few minutes at a time.
If you would believe it, three of them are the Apprentices that won the Potion's Contest this last season. They were responsible for the Wolfsbane Potion that has helped the people afflicted with lycanthropy. They didn't know it, but they had actually helped my school friend, Langford, reconcile with his family for the first time since he was bitten by Fenrir Greyback back when we were children. It was because of Langford that I was saved from becoming a werewolf on top of being a squib, and it was because of these young students that my friend sent me the first owl I have received from him since he ran away to Bulgaria seeking the underground to save him from persecution here in England. I know you didn't approve of me keeping on contact with him after the accident, mum, but he was always kind to me, even when everyone else… well it's all water under the bridge now.
These four have used my room as a testing ground for their Transfiguration, and they have turned my humble and overly dusty chambers into a grand room fit for royalty or Merlin himself! My bed, no longer pieced together with old beds from the dormitories, is a grand thing with carved lions and serpents for posts. The sheets are as soft as silk.
They helped me take out the old window that was busted so badly that it couldn't open. It took hours, but they helped me reconstruct the glass in a new frame and set it in the window. They even called their Master, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, when they couldn't quite figure out the older makings of the window setting. She seemed like a wonderful elder witch. I'm not sure why I was so scared to approach her before. She seemed appalled by my being so isolated. She had presumed I would be given the chambers of the old Caretaker. I told her I wouldn't trade my new place for the world, though. They had worked so hard on making me feel at home. I don't have the heart to move. She assured me that, if it came to a move, that all I had to do is let her know, and she and her apprentices would be glad to assist me in the move. At first I thought she was going to force them to help, but when I saw them smiling and nodding, I couldn't help but think they truly wished to help.
The stained glass has wondrous moving dragons and fleeing knights that remind me of the stories you once told me as a child.
For the first time in my life, I have the envy of Aunt Maybelle's Persian rugs, and I have shelves full of so many small trinkets I had found broken and cast away in the rooms of Hogwarts. They have helped me repair them with magic.
You would never believe it, but they aren't like the others. They don't make fun of me for being a squib. The young witch, her name is Hermione Black, asked if I wished to repair them the Muggle way, or if I minded if they fix it with magic. She actually asked my opinion! I didn't know what to say. I stammered and babbled, but they didn't make fun of me. For the first time, I feel like I may have friends. Real friends.
The youngest amongst them, his name is Regulus, is Hermione's brother. He gifted me a fuzzball kitten I have named Mrs Norris after the older lady that used to babysit me as a child. Her hair looked exactly the same as the kitten's and I couldn't help but name her! She follows me everywhere, demanding to go with me—even to the bathroom!
Regulus crafted an elaborate cat "castle" in my chambers. It has ramps and ramparts and cubby holes for her to crawl in and sleep. Sometimes when you walk by, you can't tell she's there until she attacks your ankles as you go by. She's a lot like Mrs Norris, actually. Please don't tell her I said that!
Save Regulus, the other three are formal Apprentices, and they all call me formally "Mr Filch" in public, but when they come to visit my chambers, I have given them permission to call my by my first name, and they agreed only if I called them by theirs. Technically, they outrank me, but you'd never know it by how they treat me. They treat me as one would a professor, and it always takes me off guard. I've never had anyone treat me well once they found out I was… well you know. Defective.
I'm finally starting to enjoy my job here, and I'm glad you told me to hold out and be patient. I was really losing hope that I'd ever fit in. I'm not a professor, and I had really thought my being a squib would make it impossible to make friends, as it had so many times before.
I really am happy here. Please tell father I am doing better. I know he was worried.
The owl I'm using to send this letter is named Sagacity. He's Hermione's owl. His favourite treat are the owl nuts from Eeylops Owl Emporium. Hermione says it's because he spent so much time waiting for her there, so it's like a comfort food.
Hermione, Regulus, Severus, and Remus are teaching me how to call the Hogwarts' owls without magic in case I need to write you and they aren't around. Between the four of them, they found me a full set of stationary, an inkwell, a nice writing quill, and some sealing wax. I should be able to write you more often now. No one ever bothered to tell me how to call the owls to me without magic. Maybe it is because they don't even think about the owls seeming to know when you need them when you are magical.
I am enclosing a picture of Mrs Norris and me together. If the real Mrs Norris comes by for tea, be sure to call the cat Pest. That is what Severus calls her because she takes over your lap.
Thank you for not giving up on me, mum. You always told me never to give up, and I will admit, until now, I had my doubts.
Love,
Argus (messy kitten print smashed into red sealing wax and what appears to be the mark of a cat tongue sliding across the signature)
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the slightly long chapter. I always thought that Argus was a character, much like Severus, that could have been so much more if he'd been given a chance when he was younger and more malleable. If there was anything looked down on more than being Muggle-born, it was being born a squib in a family of magic-users. I can only imagine how lonely that would be, and how the man would cling to the only one that wouldn't judge him (Mrs Norris) and then want to do well by Albus (because he had given him a chance.)
