As promised, Lady Aztecatl walked with them to the apparition point. The corridor out of the Ministry wound, long and unbranching, toward the discreet exit for Wizengamot members, which they took on her recommendation. Dumbledore must feel that Severus could be in danger as well to agree so readily. Yolotli could tell Severus quietly agreed, given current public sentiment about anyone even accused of being a Death Eater at that moment in time. He might be heckled and harassed, even outright followed and attacked. She knew he understood the need for discretion, though clearly he did not understand why Lady Aztecatl concerned herself with it.

Despite the tense moment when she dropped her knowledge of his family situation, she could feel the questions and confusion swirling inside of him behind his veneer of calm. Clearly he wanted to ask her, turning to do so when he caught sight of the serpent whose cheek pressed against hers. "I would not have guessed you're a Parselmouth," he said casually.

She felt her eyebrows twitch upward. She had expected him to pursue information about his family, but she now knew that she had multiple valuable pieces of information at hand. He would want to know, and could find out only by asking her. The more he wanted to ask, the more she would have plausible reasons to be in his presence. "Really now?" She heard the amusement in her own voice as she carefully put away those thoughts for later. "Why might that be?"

His obsidian eyes raked over her intensely from head to toe, his thin lips pressed together. Paired with his large beaky nose, he looked a bit like a bird of prey ready to swoop in for the kill. The scrutiny would make many people flinch back in fear of an attack, but she knew he merely wanted answers. "Because many associate it with Dark witches and wizards, and you do not appear to be one."

Yolotli grinned at him. "And what would one look like, Lord Prince? Yourself?" she teased.

Severus scowled, though whether at the mention of his mother's family name or the teasing she had no way to tell. "I suppose there is no one look," he sniffed. "In fact many hide in plain sight, yet given my past experiences you hardly seem the type." He allowed his curiosity to show more plainly. "Why do you carry this creature with you if others might jump to the same conclusions I did? It could tarnish your reputation."

"She is not a creature. She is my companion. We are bonded, magically. We enjoy each other's company and conversation."

"Do you now?" Narrowed, calculating eyes. She knew when he understood, saw recognition light his gaze, though he appeared no happier for it.

"She is your familiar." Severus said it with certainty.

"Yes," Yolotli confirmed. "You know I am what you would call a Parselmouth. I speak Parseltongue. It makes things easier. Not many can speak to their companions. Watch." And she hissed to Coaxoch to explain what she was about to do as she observed them both quietly. She knew how funny British magical humans could be about those who possessed the ability to speak to snakes. So strange considering how those in other countries viewed it as a gift, others as a sacred blessing. In yet others it occurred far more commonly and so escaped the notoriety it did here. She wondered how Severus would handle it, and if he would turn on her. She felt like he might. He knew her even less than Albus did, and it had taken Albus a while to trust her, Albus, who very recently spent multiple sessions of the Wizengamot with her due to Arthur's lack of concern over his seat. They didn't speak often, but on some issues, such as werewolf rights, they agreed strongly. She knew it would be the lasting animosity—no, the outright loathing, fear, and disgust— towards werewolves that served as a barrier to their liberation. It put her a bit in mind of the Civil Rights Movement to end Segregation, or the American Indian Movement. She worried that even with the fear, awe, and neutral respect her name carried for others it might be difficult to push through reform. The first time someone brought it up at a session—had it been Lady Longbottom?—which she happened to sit in on there had been as much outraged uproar as approval, and only her glance and Dumbledore's words, empowered by a powerful Sonorous charm, had quelled the immediate requests to make regulations stricter and harsher: fining or imprisoning unregistered werewolves, exiling ones who didn't take Wolfbane (despite the fact that many lived in crushing poverty, and could therefore not afford it), barring them from schools by law, sterilizing them. At the moment, only social stigma limited employment, reproduction, housing, and education of known werewolves, but Yolotli—and apparently Lady Longbottom and Lord Dumbledore, if not others—wanted protection written into law.

Albus glanced at Severus, reading something in his demeanor that Yolotli did not. "Ah, my dear Lady, forgive the, ah, apprehension, shall we say? The last Parseltongue experience Severus had did nothing to endear him to those who speak it. Lord Voldemort is a Parselmouth who often used serpents as little more than assassins or spies to further his aims of overtaking our world."

"I see," Yolotli said simply. "But surely you know not all those who speak it happen to be evil?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Of course not."

She pushed her plum Wizengamot robe off almost as an afterthought and draped it over her right arm.

"Try not to frighten Severus, Coaxoch," she warned, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I will do my level best," her friend murmured. "You know how finicky some of these British magic-folk can be."

Yolotli agreed as she gestured for Severus to walk directly at her side, something others might kill to do. She understood his reluctance if his only Parseltongue exposure had been Voldemort, but she had plans to rectify that.

When he did not move closer, she slowed her walk and introduced him to Coaxoch, allowing her serpent friend to gather his scent, and encouraging Severus to stroke Coaxoch's dazzling body. "This is Coaxoch, Severus. She is a Quetzalcoatl, a plumed serpent from my homeland. You probably guessed I was not born or raised here. Their species name is the same as that of the god they resemble. They are magical serpents considered His sacred children."

Severus balked at first at the prospect of petting her familiar, but gradually acknowledged, then released, his wariness. He might not be able to trust any other Parselmouths, but he could likely trust her not to kill him. She knew that speaking on his behalf in court would lead him to logically conclude that if she wanted to hurt him she had every chance to do so without lifting a finger. She beamed when he tentatively stroked Coaxoch, who hissed in pleasure. "With time you'll get used to her," Yolotli said confidently, speaking about something she had been thinking as soon as their eyes locked and she discovered that they resonated. She wanted to spend more time around him and get to know him but she would need to think of legitimate reasons to be in close constant contact with him. She needed something enticing, something to offer him. She would go home and think it over first so she could get what she wanted the first time. If he truly held suspicions of her she must dispel them with something that garnered trust.

Severus looked at her sharply. "What time would that be, Lady?"

Yolotli didn't falter. "Many more times, if you wish. I shall go home to hammer out all the details, but I will have propositions outlined for you."

"Will you now?"

The suspicion lay thickly on him. He didn't quite trust her, then, eh? She resolved to earn it. "Yes. And you are free to accept or decline anything I propose to you if you find it distasteful. I think meeting at Hogwarts would be best. Neutral ground, if you would, rather than inviting you to our Manor or going to your place of residence."

The location apparently relieved him. He relaxed his stance minutely. "That might be acceptable."

The entire time Dumbledore patiently watched their exchange without interrupting, but at that moment did. "I believe the others are starting to leave the chamber. We should hasten and be on our way if it is still your desire to avoid them."

Severus and Yolotli got the message. They all began moving with more speed.

"I'll send an owl with the date and time," Yolotli said, glancing at Severus. She could only hope he would say yes. "Albus is right about the others. You'll have to Apparate quickly despite the extra privacy if you don't want to have other, far more uncomfortable, conversations."

Severus jerked his head in a nod of acceptance, though his features showed his unease.

"Farewell Albus, Severus," she said once they got to the Apparition point. She would think about how she wanted to do this, then she would write to them about the meeting to discuss it. If he responded in the negative then so be it.

XXX

Severus stumbled tiredly through his front door despite Albus' wishes that he remain at Hogwarts. As quickly as possible he checked the integrity of the wards in case someone tried to break in while he had been away at the trial. Once he reassured himself of their integrity he immediately fixed himself tea with a splash of Firewhiskey, then for a long while sat in the dark in his gloomy living room contemplating his freedom.

He had many thoughts about Lady Aztecatl, and for once appreciated the odd hierarchies and tendencies of deference that pureblood society held. If they did not hold some form of reverence for her kind it might have taken even Dumbledore far longer and far more effort to be heard and to present his case. He knew with Dumbledore representing that he would be cleared of all charges and that there was in no danger of being shipped off to Azkaban, but she had significantly lowered the complications. He wondered, and worried, what she wanted with him and why, what she saw in him, and how Dumbledore would handle it.

Before they parted ways, Lady Aztecatl promised to keep in touch with them. Severus didn't anticipate that it would be so soon after the trial. By the end of the day, and by the end of the bottle of Ogden's Finest, an owl arrived with a short note from her in which she informed Severus that she had a few propositions to run by both him and Albus. Presumably Albus received a similar owl. She suggested a time and date: The Sunday after the trial, some time between eleven-thirty and noon. Eventually he went to bed, after searching his personal library for information about the Undying. He lay under his sheets, once more running over the day's events and things he had read before sleeping fitfully. Severus's thoughts turned from the Lady when he awoke atrociously early to Lucius' insistent owl.

Unsurprisingly to Severus, Lucius had already emerged victorious and unscathed several days prior, although in his case he claimed to have been under the Imperius Curse at the time and therefore avoided a hearing altogether. Completely coincidentally, around the time of the inquiry into him he bequeathed a generous donation of galleons to the Ministry of Magic to enforce the belief that he had been cursed rather than serving the Dark Lord of his own free will. His obnoxious owl arrived at what Lily used to affectionately call "the arse crack of dawn", an appropriate name if Severus ever heard one. The bloody thing almost killed itself trying to get him to wake up and open his window. Once he had, the feathered fiend actually pecked at him until he took the small slip of parchment it carried. He opened it warily, not relishing the debriefing Lucius would undoubtedly want regardless of if Lady Aztecatl had been so instrumental in getting his case heard. Lucius' letter, penned on outrageously ostentatious parchment that contrasted dramatically with the proper but modest parchment used by the Lady, read simply:

Firewhiskey by the hearth?

-L

Severus rolled his eyes. Ever the one for gossip, rumor, and gruesome fact, off course Lucius would be eager to hear all of the details of Severus' trial as soon as Severus could be convinced to show up at Malfoy Manor to be questioned by him. Resigning himself to doing so at the risk of being hounded relentlessly by his old friend if he refused, Severus sent him a hasty, one word confirmation. He decided to Floo immediately to Malfoy Manor, partially out of spite for being woken up at such an unsightly hour and partially to placate his friend. Lucius hardly had room to complain about the hour when he was obviously already awake himself and had quite rudely awakened Severus. Severus changed quickly, grabbed the powder off of the mantel, and threw it into the flames. "Malfoy Manor," he said clearly, stepping into the fireplace. Eventually he found himself spat out into the receiving room. He stepped from the fireplace, vanishing the soot that dared cling to his outer robes. Lucius had clearly been expecting him, and simply handed him a glass of Firewhiskey straightaway. The man before him had dressed as immaculately as ever, his many rings, both gold and silver, glinting in the firelight.

Lucius peered at Severus interestedly over the glass he nursed for himself. Interestingly, it was half-full, as if Lucius had started drinking without him. "Have you had a chance to glance at the paper this morning?"

Severus glared at Lucius. "I am afraid not, Lucius. Your blasted bird woke me up at this ungodly hour."

Lucius looked as if he wanted to retort then shook his head in annoyance. "No, of course you haven't. You don't receive advanced copies of the paper. Look." Lucius shoved a copy into his hands. Severus unrolled it with some apprehension and read the headline of the day's paper.

Severus Snape, Suspected Death Eater, Cleared of All Charges; Dumbledore, An Undying One Involved

By Caitlin Davies

"One of the Old Ones? Interested in you?" Severus scowled under the sweep of Lucius's appraisal that he could feel despite not being able to see him at the moment, as he started scanning Davies' article.

His old friend sounded curious rather than critical but Severus still felt defensive. Severus glanced up with a sneer. "Disappointed?"

Lucius studied his glass of Ogden's Finest a long moment before replying. "Hardly," he smirked. "It's about time you seized a little political power for yourself. Now finish reading."

Severus frowned, then returned to this perusal of the article. Short and to the point, it laid out events without going into much detail. What surprised him was how neutrally it had been written, although the author explained that phenomenon well-enough. The Davies were a neutral family and didn't turn any story into a gossip-rag farce the way Skeeter tended to do. (He noticed, however, that Skeeter had written an article a few pages in speculating darkly about immortal monarchies.)

Sources tell us that late yesterday afternoon suspected Death Eater Severus Snape, a former student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and current Hogwarts Potions Master, achieved an acquittal over the course of his trial thanks to the efforts of one Lord Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and of one Lady Yolotli Aztecatl, one of the mysterious Undying Ones. Aztecatl, sitting in for Lord Arthur Kirkland, the Undying One who actually holds the seat on the Wizengamot, took control of the floor yesterday and cleared the way for the presentation of Dumbledore's testimony. Dumbledore himself represented Snape at his trial, providing his own memories as evidence. While Dumbledore barred the public from being privy to the content of those memories, a trusted source from inside the Wizengamot confirms that they indeed seem to prove Snape's innocence. (While all Wizengamot swear oaths of confidentiality that cannot be broken, they can still discuss the nature of a private testimony.) Aztecatl came down in favor of the Chief Warlock's requests for privacy, and many of the court, including the Minister for Magic hopeful Ser Cornelius Fudge, seemed reluctant to openly oppose her. On multiple occasions she scolded Fudge when he committed what were clearly several crucial political blunders by rushing through the trial with total disregard for evidence—a concern that could be applied to other hastily executed trials of suspected Death Eaters and sympathizers—and not exhibiting enough deference to the Old One. One would think such a wet-behind-the-ears potential politician would wish to curry favor with an Undying One where at all possible. On another note, Aztecatl expressed interest in Snape at the trial opening, the nature of which is undetermined. Can we, perhaps, expect great things from the man? Only time will tell.

"This article seems to be more intent on embarrassing Fudge than reporting gory details about my trial or mocking me as an individual," Severus noted once he reached the end and looked up at Lucius, who leaned against the mantel waiting for him to finish. His silver eyes glinted in the light of the fire.

"But of course," Lucius replied smoothly. "Without more knowledge on how Aztecatl is interested in you they dare not drag you through the mud just yet. No one wants to raise her ire. And you were, of course, innocent." He sneered the last word, injecting it with as much sarcasm as possible.

Severus chose to ignore it. Lucius, of course, had no idea Severus had switched sides. He might think Severus to be more out for himself than a loyal Death Eater, but likely had no idea of his defection. "And, naturally, if they see Fudge as a political opponent of hers or sense any weakness or stupidity from him they'll be out for blood—his. He probably wanted to appear 'tough on crime'—forgive me, Muggle phrase that means he intends to act harshly towards anyone considered or suspected as criminal—but came off as a reckless tyrant in the shadow of her voice of reason."

"Yes, voice of reason indeed." Lucius drained his glass. "Three weeks and he's almost committed political suicide," he nodded, derision in his voice. "How the man hopes to one day be Minister for Magic I've no idea."

"It might come back to haunt him that so many went to Azkaban without a fair trial," Severus said quietly, staring at a carved crup design on the mantle and tracing it with a finger. "Especially under Barty Crouch Senior. I was lucky enough to receive one, and a fair one at that, but imagine the people who really weren't Death Eaters going to prison." That would be the only time he ever felt pity for Black, though most of him felt the arsehole deserved it.

They both shuddered involuntarily.

"I know she's my wife's sister and our former comrade, but thank all fuck Bellatrix is in there," Lucius sighed as he poured himself more Firewhiskey. "Crazy insufferable bitch. The only witch or wizard completely safe from her wand was the Dark Lord."

Severus stared into the bottom of his glass, swishing around the amber liquid. "Yes," he agreed feelingly. "I have a feeling she would curse anyone for her own amusement, even Narcissa or Draco. She's completely unhinged. It's unfortunate that she's powerful and intelligent. It doesn't do to mix those traits with madness."

They stood together in silence, refilling their glasses when they emptied and contemplating the new world order.

"By the way, Lucius, a curiosity," Severus said suddenly, much later. Judging by the light now peaking around the heavy drapes the sun had finally risen. He waited until he had Lucius' full attention before continuing. "Did you know that Lady Aztecatl was a Parselmouth?"

Lucius' pale eyebrows, light and ashy blonde like a Targaryen, rose in surprise. That was the only emotion displayed on his face. Whatever else he might feel he clearly hid it from Severus, who rarely found others unreadable. "I had no idea. Let us hope she is slightly less insane than the last Parselmouth who took an interest in you."

Severus winced to himself, glad he could hide even from a close 'friend'—if Lucius could indeed be called a friend—like Lucius. "One can only hope," he muttered.

XXX

"Hey loser," Bláithín ó Murchadha, better known as Rose Murphy, said to Yolotli as she walked into her own kitchen. Her friend sat at the table reading a newspaper and drinking coffee from a mug with tiny sprinting Dalmatians all over it. Rose was a shortish, curvy witch as pale as a frosted windowpane, with chin-length brown hair and intelligent blue eyes. She often dropped by to spend days or evenings with Yolotli. The two were close, and Rose especially liked dropping by when her brothers acted particularly like annoying pricks. This morning she wore an oversized tie-dye t-shirt and leggings with flip-flops—far from what stuffy pureblood witches and wizards expected someone of her stature to be caught dead in whether in public or at home.

Yolotli, still in a long violet nightgown, lavender dressing gown, and bunny slippers, made a beeline for the cabinets. If her long hair had not been in braids she would have an atrocious bedhead at the moment. She went through the motions of setting up tea for herself without a second thought. "Hello yourself," she muttered, not feeling particularly clever. She'd spent hours trying to decide what to do about her propositions, and other hours thinking about Severus Snape's coal black eyes, his night black hair, his calloused hands and stained fingernails (no doubt acquired from years of potions-making). His hands especially had kept her up for some time as she imagined them touching her, but his eyes and hair took just as long, if not longer. She had urges—to draw her fingers through his hair, to hold the side of his face against her palm, to find out what he smelled of when she leaned into his throat and collarbone. She had felt an instant attraction to him, though she knew nothing about the man except that she gathered he was exceedingly unhappy, not terribly popular, and possibly a tad abrasive—and of course that they had resonated. She knew that offered no guarantee she would like him as a person once she got to know him, but she'd like to at least try. Though even if she found that she did enjoy his company, would he reciprocate and enjoy hers?

"Not at your best before tea, eh? You're more related to Arthur than I am."

Yolotli's nose wrinkled. "Don't say that."

Rose cackled. "Still don't like my brother?"

Yolotli shrugged. "He can be very…"

"Annoying? Irritating? Hard to stand?" Rose grinned, looking feral.

"Well, yes," Yolotli admitted, shrugging as she hunted for the macadamia nuts and dried fruit. "He's not my brother. I don't have to tolerate him, let alone like him."

"See that's where you're wrong. You do have to tolerate him, you don't have to like him. We are stuck with each other unless one of us happens to die some time in the next century."

"Whatever," Yolotli shrugged again, sensing that she would not win this disagreement. She could practically feel Rose gloating. She knew her friend would gloat even more if she knew about Francis currently laying asleep in her bed, completely naked and drooling on her extra pillow. He really wasn't as bad as some of the other Undying said he was, though she would never admit that to Rose. Really she didn't have to, because Rose knew, but Yolotli tried to keep her friend's teasing to a minimum. She didn't want to give her friend the satisfaction that came with each reminder that she hadn't quite severed all ties with him. Rose had always sensed that their relationship ran deeper than the political arrangement that pushed them into marrying each other. If Rose knew how she really felt she'd never hear the end of it. Not because Rose disagreed with them being together, but because she found it amusing. She found it even more amusing if they acted awkward about it.

"So," Rose hummed, changing the subject while rustling the paper as she set it down. "What's this I hear about Cornelius Fudge stepping up to you? Should I start sitting in on sessions, maybe teach him a lesson?"

Yolotli sat down with her nuts, fruit, and tea. She'd make oatmeal a little later, after her morning swim, when Rose went out to the garden to play on her flute. "I don't think he's anything much to worry about. Not much sense in his head, and I don't mean because he challenged me. Surely he must know that everyone deserves a fair trial, if only to avoid any scandals later that come about because he put someone innocent in jail trying to rush the Council. Like with that Sirius Black bloke. A friend of his wrote me, and I'm having someone look into it. Something about that arrest doesn't sit right with me. I think he could be innocent."

"Black, innocent?" Rose thought about it, then nodded. "I can see that. But how can you prove it without interviewing the man yourself? And how could you keep that type of political move quiet? If Fudge hated you showing up in court, what will he do when you upstage the Ministry like that? Especially if he's gunning for the position of Minister for Magic!"

Yolotli laugh outright. "And you think that that fool poses any real threat to me? Please, he's a child." She popped a dried date into her mouth. "I'll go unofficially, do some investigating of my own. I'm no detective, but a braindead monkey could have done better work on Black's case. I mean the bar is low...really low. Feliciano without Risk could do it."

Rose almost choked on the coffee she now sipped from, her lips spasming between her own laughter and a frown. "Don't make fun of Cecelia's brother that way."

"Oh, infatuated are we?" She smirked triumphantly as her friend blushed a pleasing shade of maroon. Amidst her friend's fervent pleas that she was not, in fact, infatuated with Cecelia, 'who wouldn't care if we poked a little fun at Feliciano anyway', Yolotli considered her next moves: her arranged meeting with Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, and her covert meeting with Sirius Black. Yolotli bit into a dried plum and ate a few cherries, then attacked the nuts.

After her sit in at Severus Snape's trial she had gotten nearly half a dozen petitions and requests over the next few days from families of those sent to Azkaban without a trial. What the Ministry had done left the door wide open for one legal nightmare after another and quite frankly a lot of political embarrassment. Notorious Death Eaters like Bellatrix Lestrange surely would have ended up in Azkaban regardless of trial, but other cases such as the case of Sirius Black stood on much shakier ground. They only had the words of a dead man, Peter Pettigrew, who had accused Black in front of a street of Muggles and who could not be questioned. Black had had no trial, nor an interrogation, nor had his wand been checked for the latest spells cast. That might perhaps be the most damning, that no one had bothered casting a Priori Incantatem to see if at least Black's wand, if not the man himself, had done the deed. He had had no chance to go under Veritaserum or place memories in a Pensieve, no living witnesses called for or against his defense. The man had not even been checked over for the Dark Mark, merely hauled off to prison after the street explosion, and something about the situation didn't sit right with Yolotli. Going off of the prompting and pleading contained in a letter from Remus Lupin, in which the man outright begged her to look into the case of Sirius Black, she had used a mutual contact they both shared, the man's cousin Selene Lupin, although she first decided to use a little Blood Magic flavored divination to help her come to a conclusion on whether she should deny or pursue his desire for her to become involved in his friend's affairs.

Her blood scrying told her that something in it had gone deeply awry and that there was deceit and concealment involved, but she had no idea what that meant. She would have to visit Black and draw her own conclusions before she made any decision on whether she would defend him or not. His case was far from her only concern given just how many people had fallen under suspicion, and it had been a struggle to get the War Crimes and Reconciliation Division of the Council of Magical Law up and running to begin with when everyone just wanted to throw any and every one into prison no matter how tenuous the connection to a Death Eater or how improbable their own guilt. She needed to organize a campaign towards consistently implementing proper interrogation and trial procedures for people whose guilt appeared at least ambiguous if not downright questionable or unlikely. One witch, Athena Ross, a distance relative from a different branch of the family of her dear friend, Eleonor Prince and a first cousin of one Minerva McGonagall, had nearly been thrown in prison for her romantic involvement with Evan Rosier. It was a nightmare. And unfortunately out of most people involved, Yolotli was the one who had the most time to work on straightening out the utter mess of the courts in the wake of Voldemort's downfall.