Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story (more's the pity--they could help pay my student loans) except for Eve Berger. Nor did I come up with the plot of PoA, and the scenes and dialogue included in that fab book, which I humbly reproduce at certain points herein. All that belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., Bloomsbury, Raincoast, Scholastic...the list goes on!

A/N: Almost done! There's just one chapter after this, which I'll post immediately.

I made a horrible oversight last chapter--I forgot to thank my newest beta, Taryn. Thanks to both Taryn and Jo, betas extraordinaire, and very enthusiastic ones at that. And no, Taryn, that's obviously not you later on in this chapter. Be patient. :-)

Anyway, on with the fic!

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Chapter 18: First Farewells

Snape wasn't sure who had the worse night; Dumbledore or himself. He was the one who had been attacked by three students, had been treated like a lunatic, who had seen all his dreams of justice dashed. Though he had to admit, Dumbledore was the one who had to keep waking him up, and had to deal with the sarcasm that inevitably followed. Snape couldn't feel too sorry for the headmaster, though. As far as he was concerned, Dumbledore how more than earned it, helping Black escape, helping bloody Potter and his bloody friends...

As such, it was a very grumpy Severus Snape that went down to breakfast the next morning. He would much rather have stayed in bed, but then there was little chance that Dumbledore would leave him alone. Better to suffer through a noisy breakfast (one which would undoubtedly make his head throb even more painfully than it already was) and have the rest of the day to hide in his dungeons than to beg off and have Dumbledore disturbing his peace.

Fifteen minutes into breakfast, however, Snape was questioning his logic. The students were all in deplorably high spirits with the end of exams and another Hogsmeade visit in the offing. The noise was incredible, each eardrum-bursting wave of sound feeling like someone was taking an iron cauldron to his head. It took all the self control he could muster not to let it show on his face, though doubtless it meant he was looking more stern than ever. Not that that was a bad thing.

To top it off as possibly the worst morning in his life, one of the Slytherin prefects approached the head table partway through breakfast, looking rather grim himself. It was Julius Maxwell, the oldest of the prefects and rather militant in his enforcement of the rules. Snape was dead certain Maxwell had a future in magical law enforcement; he had the humour for it, or rather, lack thereof.

"Professor, I found Macaulay and Biddle outside the Slytherin dorms last night. I was going to bring them to you immediately, but you weren't in," Maxwell explained, mouth set in a hard line. Snape was certain that he would have saluted, if such a thing was called for.

This was certainly the last straw. The very last thing Snape needed at the moment was a pair of his students breaking the rules; and more importantly, breaking a curfew which was implemented for the students' own protection.

Snape quickly pushed back his chair and marched toward the two offending fourth-years, who were now staring determinedly at their plates. They were obviously too scared to watch their head of house approach, which was exactly what Snape wanted.

Snape grabbed them both by the collar and hauled them out of their seats, two pairs of frightened eyes now looking at him. Normally he would have dragged them down to his office and berated them there. It made the offenders sweat and the other children speculate about what punishment he might be dishing out. However, today he simply wasn't in the mood to drag it out. Besides, he was in the middle of breakfast, and didn't want it to get cold in his absence.

"Do you two have any idea how dangerous it was to be roaming around the halls last night? You would have been well served if Sirius Black had caught you, or Professor Lupin for that matter. If he'd bitten you--" Snape stopped. The words had slipped out without him meaning to say them, a product of his pounding head and short temper. He hadn't meant to mention Lupin, but it was what he'd been thinking, and hadn't had the presence of mind to censor what he was thinking before he spoke.

"P-p-professor Lupin? Bitten?" Biddle stammered, quaking like one of the house-elves' jellied puddings.

This time, his words were not an accident. Why the hell should he cover for the werewolf now? Why on earth should he listen to Dumbledore, keep his mouth shut yet again? Deep inside, he wanted revenge, and this was the only way he could exact it. He knew very well that the other Slytherins could hear everything he said, that the whispers would sweep through the Great Hall before the end of the meal, and most of all, he didn't give a damn if they did.

"Yes, bitten. Professor Lupin is a werewolf, and you're damned lucky you didn't come across him last night. At best he could have infected you. At worst..." he left the rest hanging, letting their imaginations fill in the blanks. It would be more terrifying than anything he could have said. "You two will be staying home from the Hogsmeade trip this afternoon, and will be cleaning the Potions classroom with toothbrushes--and that's just for starters. I expect to see you two in my office, ready to begin fifteen minutes after breakfast is over. Do I make myself clear?"

The boys nodded their assent, and Snape dumped them in their seats. Turning on his heel, he stalked back up to the head table, not looking at the whispers he knew were flying behind his back. However instead of sitting down once again, he headed directly to the door behind the head table, only just resisting the urge to slam it behind him. He wasn't about to join the professors again; his head was pounding so fiercely that he doubted even his ability to hide it, and he assumed that once Dumbledore knew that he had let slip Lupin's secret, the headmaster would have some choice words for him. He wasn't about to sit there and wait for them. Instead, he walked down to the dungeons to prepare for the little miscreants by casting spells to prevent the use of magic in the classroom. If those two were going to break the rules, he was damned sure he wasn't going to make their punishments easy.

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Eve sweated through her History of Magic exam that afternoon, and not just because of the test questions. It was a scorching hot day, so much so that she hadn't slept very well, and had risen early to study. She'd skipped breakfast and lunch then hurried to her exam, her clothes already damp with perspiration. It didn't help that the room was stifling. Binns, being a ghost, couldn't feel the heat and so didn't seem to realize that the live inhabitant of the room would have much appreciated a few open windows. Eve had poked the window next to her desk open a little, but the room faced the wrong direction to capture the breeze outside and very little air blew in.

Scribbling madly, Eve didn't look to check the time. She knew she was nearing the end of the allotted two hours and her mind and hands were on auto-pilot, her quill scratching across the parchment in the silence of the room as she scribbled wildly.

Five minutes later, she punctuated her last sentence with enough force to send a few tiny inkblots spattering on the page, then set down her quill. She had just made it; as she laid down her quill, Binns looked over at her saying in his peculiar drone, "Your two hours are up, Miss Berger. Please bring your parchment here, then you are free to go."

Eve scooped her ink and quill into her rucksack, hurried up the aisle to Binns' desk and then strode quickly out of the room, resisting the urge to let out a whoop of joy and relief. She nearly skipped back up to Gryffindor Tower, despite the heat. She was finished exams, finally!

Back at her room she dumped her belongings on her bed, then grabbed a book and towel before hurrying to draw herself a cool bath. The chill of the water felt wonderful against her fevered skin, and she was delighted to finally have time for a long soak with a book that had nothing to do with any of her coursework. Even better was the fact that the tower was peacefully silent. No one would be banging on the door asking when she'd be done, no feet clattering up and down the stairs. Everyone else was either in Hogsmeade or spending the afternoon out-of-doors, the gorgeous weather making it impossible to stay inside.

She could hardly believe she was already finished. The year had seemed like an age, possibly because she was used to summer holidays starting in April in university. But the past two months had breezed by quickly; too quickly it had seemed, particularly when she had been neck-deep in assignments. And finally here she was, lazing about in a bath with a book and without that annoying little voice in the back of her mind telling her that she should be doing coursework instead. It was absolutely glorious.

Eve waited until she was good and wrinkled before getting out and towelling off, changing into some more casual, comfortable Muggle clothes. Reading by the lake seemed a good way to spend the afternoon.

She walked into dinner with a decided spring in her step that evening, feeling better than she had in months. Even if she had a feeling that she'd failed a couple second-year exams, she was feeling a little more positively philosophical at that moment than she had been. What was done, was done and there was no way to change it. The only thing to do was to finally relax now that the stress of exams was over.

She was in such a good mood and so far off in her own little world that it took a few minutes for her housemates' conversation to penetrate her shell. As such, she ended up tuning in in the middle of the conversation.

"Not surprised he snuck away while everyone was gone," one of her housemates said around a mouthful of food.

Something about the student's disdainful tone struck her as very odd, and so she couldn't help but ask, "Who did?"

A few heads swivelled her way, looking at her in confusion. She was getting used to triggering that response in her fellow Gryffindors.

"Why, Professor Lupin, of course," another said, in a tone that clearly said they thought she was rather dim-witted.

"Lupin? But...why?"

"Well he could hardly stay. I don't know about your parents, but mine certainly wouldn't want me to have a werewolf as a teacher."

Eve was convinced she hadn't heard them right. "A werewolf? Lupin?"

"You mean you didn't know? But the entire school knows--Professor Snape said so to one of the Slytherins this morning."

Eve thought to herself that Snape was hardly the sort of person she'd completely trust to be telling the truth about such a thing, but didn't voice it. Besides, Dumbledore obviously put a great deal of trust in him, so was her doubt of Snape because of the man or because of her dislike of him?

The others had gone back to their conversation, and Eve was quiet for the little that remained of dinner, too busy thinking to concentrate on what they were saying.

Lupin, a werewolf? She had read a little about them, enough to know that they were real, and dangerous. She could hardly believe it; kind, patient Lupin a werewolf! It seemed somehow preposterous, but then... He had been ill so many times and though she couldn't remember exactly when in most cases, he had been ill at Christmas, and there had been a full moon on Christmas Eve.

How on earth could Dumbledore have hired a werewolf to work in a school? That was so--so dangerous! He never should have done such a thing.

Then should Davina never have been allowed at Oxbridge? a voice in her mind said, and the thought made her pause. She was heading back up to Gryffindor Tower with the rest of the students after dinner when it came to her and she quickened her step, wanting to reach her room where she could think about it.

Flopping down on the bed, she considered the two situations. Davina had been one of her best mates at university; still was, in fact. Eve had kept up a steady correspondence during her year at Hogwarts, though she hadn't told Dee about where she was and what she was doing, as she hadn't with most of her friends.

Dee was a Canadian transfer student, and had lived down the hall from her in residence at Strickland College, in one of the few single apartments. Eve had spent a lot of time there, studying with Dee, procrastinating or just getting together with her for no other reason than a good, long chat. They were great friends, though for the first year, Eve had thought Dee was slightly odd. For one thing, when anyone in their classes, or on their floor, or even Eve herself was sick, Dee avoided them as though they had the plague. She'd wash her hands twenty times a day, and kept a kit in her bag with sticking plasters and antiseptic cream, which she'd pull out whenever she had so much as a paper cut. Eve had thought that Dee might be a hypochondriac, at least until an incident in their second year.

The two girls were having dinner in Dee's apartment, when Dee had accidentally cut herself with a knife while slicing an onion. Eve had started to walk over to help out when suddenly Dee had barked at her to go into the next room and stay there. Eve had been too stunned by the controlled fear and panic in Dee's voice to do anything but obey, and so she had walked into the next room, sitting there in shocked silence until Dee had come in and finally told her why she'd reacted that way.

Dee explained that she had been injured in a car accident when she was a teenager, and had had to have a blood transfusion. It hadn't been until eight months before she started university that she and her family had found out that the donor blood had been tainted with HIV. Apparently it hadn't been tested for, as the disease was still rather new, and there were still many that thought that it only gay people contracted it. Even many of those who knew better thought that only drug users or those who had unprotected sex could get it. They were wrong, of course, and hundreds, maybe thousands of people had been infected through no fault of their own, possibly infecting others without their knowledge. It was only very recently that the media had grabbed hold of the story, and there was talk of an enquiry.

Dee said she had come to terms with it, though as she'd spoken Eve could hear some of the anger in her voice. Anger that she likely wouldn't live to see her thirtieth birthday, all because of someone else's mistake.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Dee had said then, "I know, I should have, it's just...I just never could find a good time or the courage to say it and part of me held back because I didn't want to be treated like a leper here too. So I just made sure I was extra careful, watched myself everyday and took precautions to make sure no one else would be in danger."

Eve had replied that she wasn't angry, and it was true. Inside she knew that if Dee had told her earlier, she would likely have never become such good friends with her. She was painfully aware at that moment that she shared the same prejudices that most people did. She hadn't deserved to know, had been better off not knowing, as otherwise she would have missed out on getting to know someone who had become a best friend.

Lying on her bed, listening to Erik scratch around at the floor underneath, she had to admit that it was the same with Lupin. She of all people she have known better, but instead as soon as she'd found out about Lupin's condition she'd thought the very things she shouldn't have, the things that were motivated by irrational fear and prejudice. Lupin was only dangerous once a month, and hadn't he disappeared during the full moon? He hadn't even come out for Christmas, and she well remembered how awful he'd looked every time he did return. It seemed that Lupin, like Dee, had had to take others safety into his own hands because he couldn't tell anyone that they should protect themselves. What an awful burden that must be; always having to be on your guard, having to watch yourself and worry about what could happen to someone else if you made one small mistake, without being able to tell anyone for fear of being shunned. No wonder he and Dumbledore had kept it quiet. That was, at least until Snape had opened his mouth. For a moment she felt a surge of anger at the man, though she had to admit that perhaps he was only doing as he thought was right. Certainly she knew that not everyone would be pleased with Lupin and Dumbledore hiding his condition, or even understand the reasons for it.

She only wished she'd heard about Lupin leaving sooner. She would have liked to say goodbye. Lupin had always been kind to her, in fact he had always seemed to understand what it was like for her to be different, and she now knew why. She would have liked to thank him for it. Perhaps she could send a note--owls could find people even without an address, couldn't they?

With another stab of guilt, she remembered her notes to Dee; always written on ordinary Muggle paper and with a Muggle pen, then posted via her parents so as not to seem suspicious. She had never told Dee the truth about where she was, what she was studying. In fact she'd never even thought of it. She'd grouped Dee in with the rest of her friends, none of whom she'd told about her ability. But Dee had trusted Eve with her secret, shouldn't Eve at least do the same? Dee deserved that trust.

Eve rolled off her bed and walked over to her desk, pulling out her quill and parchment. Dipping her quill in the ink bottle, she began to write a letter to Dee, to repay that old confidence.

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The week of holidays breezed by, quickened by the fact that each day was spent blissfully doing nothing of importance. Marks came out on the second last day of term, and Eve was sorry to see that she had failed the second-year exams in Astronomy and Potions, though the results didn't really surprise her. But at least she had a few months in which to study some more and try to catch up; even better, months without Snape breathing down her neck as she did so.

Professor Dumbledore had called her into his office one last time before the end of term, to talk to her regarding regulations for the summer.

"As you are the age of majority, you cannot be bound by the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry," Dumbledore began, "and you will have to study over the summer in preparation for the next fall. However, I would like to suggest that you use caution in your studies, particularly when it comes to new charms and potions. I would rather that you perfect those you already know and limit your practice of brand-new ones at this point. It is simply much safer for you to learn them here, where someone is nearby to correct any accidents or dangerous mistakes. I expect you to know your own limitations, but beyond that, it is up to your discretion. I trust the Magical Reversal squads will not have to pay you a visit this summer." He had smiled for that last sentence, softening the order but diminishing none of its meaning.

Eve had caught his meaning perfectly and fully agreed--she wasn't about to go trying new spells, having seen firsthand what could happen when she was just learning. However, it would be rather nice to be able to use magic at home. There were a few charms she'd learned that would come in rather handy.

Finally it was the last day and she was heading to Hogsmeade station with the rest of the students. Looking back at Hogwarts, she took in the last sight she would have of the castle for three months. She would miss it in a way. She liked her room and some of her fellow students and her professors. She had found something of a place for herself there, after all. Plus, after ten months of being surrounded by magic, she was going back to living with her parents and while she'd missed them greatly, it would still be rather odd to live in the Muggle world again. She wouldn't be completely cut off though. She could go into London often enough and head into Diagon Alley, check out wizarding books and clothes and things. And she had arranged to get a subscription to the Daily Prophet so she wouldn't feel isolated from the other world she belonged to. She would be working all summer, then return to Hogwarts for another year. Hogwarts felt like home now, so she could look forward to going back, while at the moment she could also look forward to going home to her parents.

After bustling onto the Hogwarts Express, Eve snagged a window-seat facing backwards in a nearly-empty compartment. She watched until Hogwarts faded from view, then turned to a book, Erik curling up on her lap, and looking forward to her arrival back at home.