Dear Readers;
Thanks as always for your feedback and crit. It really makes my day to know that you are enjoying the tale.
Now get on, sit down, and strap in. This is where a wild ride begins.
In the last bit – Mayhem.
In this bit – Confusion.
Beware. Beware.
Please let me know what you think!
Sincerely,
Chaos
~
Like Cats and Dogs
Chapter 13
"ROWWWLMWROWWWWWW!" The cat shot out from under the wreckage of the table to find the dog airborne and all manner of stuff raining down all around him.
"WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF!" The dog, sensing his quarry in reach, cornered in a room with only one exit, dove after the cat.
The cat, by now flying on instincts and adrenalin alone, headed for the plants that conservatory offered as shelter. Rebecca Sprout, normally the very picture of Hufflepuff equanimity, swore so badly that the Governor standing next to her dropped his biscuit into his tea.
Buddleia. Diascia. Heliotrope. Lantana.
Crash. Bang. Smash. Thud.
Flowers, leaves and dirt everywhere.
Governors and ladies either diving to intercept the insane beasts or fleeing in comic fear.
Staff paralyzed, wands drawn, unable to get a fix on the four-footed fracas.
Minerva McGonagall and Narcissa Malfoy, trying to restore order, levitating people and plants out of their way.
Emily Mayborne and Remus Lupin, clinging to each other's forearms, blushing so hard that it was actually painful. With their eyes squinched shut, they resembled little children trying to pretend that the boggle wasn't under their bed.
Emily's lips moving, saying silently, repeatedly, "This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not…"
Remus Lupin so horribly, completely mortified that he can almost feel his wolf-self clamping a tail over his genitalia.
Three things happen all at once:
Minerva body-checks the dog, sending both of them into a gooey puddle of spilt chocolate ganache.
With the reflexes that kept her on the Slytherin Quidditch team as Keeper for four years, Narcissa dives into the path of the speeding cat, catching him like a Quaffle. In the process, landing both of them on the remains of an enormous three-tiered chocolate-buttercream frosted cake.
One of the Governors, standing on a chair and trying to make head or tail of what the hell is going on here, draws his wand and calls out, "Deluvium!" Which sends a wall of water racing through the room, sweeping upset people, upset tea service and upset plants before it.
All this occurs as Filch kneels in the doorway, unable to look – as if averting his gaze from the face of a god.
Immediately behind Argus Filch, arrived just in time to see all of this is Lucius Malfoy - impeccably clad in black morning coat, pinstriped trousers, and as wide-eyed as a first-year.
Immediately behind Lucius, with blue eyes twinkling through an attempt to look suitably stern comes Albus Dumbledore, who – due to age – was somewhat slower than Lucius in making his dash up the hallway to see just what in the hell was going on.
Both men stand in the doorway, silent and staring, searching for something – anything to say. The scene of utter bedlam before them blunts even Lucius' well-honed gift for the cutting phrase.
Narcissa - chic suit ruined, her every-hair-in-place coiffure a wreck - gets to her feet with a black cat held firmly by the scruff of its neck and grins, "Lucius, my darling, you've missed the party!"
~
In grim silence Severus was carried from the room, wrapped in a length of linen so that Emily's clothing did not get stained as well as sopping, wringing wet. The woman had been so heartily humiliated that she fled before Albus had offered a drying charm, unable to look at anyone in the room.
The bollocking that she and Lupin had endured from Minerva had been legendary, utterly undeserved, and solely the fault of both himself and Black. Minerva knew it, but had no other choice than to publicly rip Emily and Lupin up one side and down the other for not keeping their familiars under control.
Now as Emily stormed into the dungeons, her wet robes and clothing making dull flapping sounds, Severus began to worry. Just as he had never seen her humiliated to the verge of tears, he had also never seen her this angry. His sense of smell was improving, or at least his use of it was. All the biochemical signals imperceptible to him in his human form were beginning to make sense to him now.
Rage, for instance, smelled the way that a punch in the nose felt. Humiliation was a hot metal scent like a cauldron allowed to boil dry. Wrath was a thunderstorm gathering on the horizon.
The only thing that Severus could take comfort in was the look on The Dog's face when Lupin snapped a leash on him and all but dragged him from the room. Whatever awaited Severus, it could not be worse than what Lupin had in mind for The Dog.
Once the door shut behind them, Severus expected the equivalent of a human Howler.
Silence. Complete, ringing silence.
Emily left him hanging in midair as she tore off her sodden robe and threw it at the wall.
Still not a word.
She undid the buttons on the sleeves and the front closures of her tunic, stripped it off and hurled it with even more force to plop atop her discarded robe.
All of this occurred in silence broken only by the sound of her breathing.
Severus would have appreciated the sight of Emily's chest rising and falling, her breasts constrained by the lacy fabric of her brassiere at any other time. However, he was coming to think that it might be the last sight he would have in this life.
Sandals and pants followed, striking the wall and falling limply to the floor.
Severus closed his eyes.
She was going to kill him. Naked.
Renowned Potions Master Meets A Painful and Untimely Demise at the Hands of a Wet, Naked, and Seriously Brassed-Off Witch.
At least it was a unique obituary. He'd wager that none of his guild had ever done that one.
"Accio Bloody Fucking Idiot."
Summoning his dignity, Severus opened his eyes and used every bit of will to keep them on Emily's face.
Failed miserably.
She was fucking magnificent. Wet, mostly naked, her hair a mess, her skin still radiant with the remainder of her epic blush, and absolutely bloody furious with his humble self – it was the most arousing sight Severus had ever seen. If he had been on two legs, he'd…
What the hell was she doing?
Floating behind Emily, he followed her into the bath where she flipped her wand at the tub, turning the taps on to full blast.
"Since chocolate contains an alkaloid that your feline body cannot process, sir, I will happily assist you in removing every last bit of it."
From where had she learned that tone of silky menace? Severus wriggled wildly in his wrappings, searching vainly for a clawhold.
"Torpeo."
His body went as limp as Emily's wet robe, but Severus had a fine view of her knicker-clad arse as she bent to dip her wrist in the bathwater. Padding the floor with a towel and flipping another over her shoulder, she came to pluck him out of the air and unwrap him.
"Now, let's just see who marks whom around here, hmm?"
"Meeeeeeooooowt!" No! Put me down this instant!
"Oh, no. You don't get a say, my dear professor. If I could do it, Slytherin's house points would be so deep in negative numbers that your grandchildren would do well to see five points by their seventh year." Emily flipped the taps off and lowered him into the blood-warm water. "You've been stamping around here like I'm your property, marking my things, spraying your temperamental testosterone all over the bloody school." Reaching out of his field of vision, her brought her hand back in with a bottle of pale pink stuff and flipped the cap up. "Now, it's my turn."
"Nooooooooooooowwwwrrr!" The stuff dripped down his spine in a rush of fruity, floral girly goo and she began to lather him up.
Bitch. You vengeful little wench. This is really beneath you, Miss Mayborne. I thought better of you than this. I am very disap… whatwhatwhat! Leave my tail alone! Do NOT wash…! Really! Have you no shame at all? What are you smirking at? The expression does not become you in the least and… MISS MAYBORNE! That is hardly a proper observation to make to a senior staff member as well as… HEY! THAT TICKLES! STOP THAT! No! Nononono! Oh, please! Please stop! Heeeeelp!… Bitch! You think that this is funny, do you? I'll… I'll… oh just you wait, Emmy Mayborne!
With a final dousing of warm water, Emily lifted him and wrapped him in a towel. Severus' nose cringed at the extravagantly feminine scent that was now all over him. She toweled him dry in an utterly humiliating way that was made all the more so by the wicked smile on her face.
Oh, I will get even, you just bet your pretty pink panties on that! If I were on two legs, you would not dare to treat me this way! You disrespectful, insolent, spoiled little brat! I should have taken your wand away and spanked you with it! I should have kissed you stupid and shagged you senseless! I should have given you detention every day!
"Recreo."
The lassitude drained from his body and he struggled from the towel. Pulling the tatters of his dignity about him, Severus went to hide under the bed.
~
Remus started to open his mouth several times, but nothing came out.
Once he simply stopped and put his head in his hands for a few minutes.
Sirius' tail was clamped tight between his legs and his head bowed so that he had the tendency to walk into things if Remus did not tug the leash.
Remus was mad enough to let him.
The worst part of all of this had been to watch Remus and Emily take the scalding dressing-down that should have rightfully been visited upon himself and Whisp. There had actually been tears of terminal embarrassment in Mayborne's eyes as she snatched Snape and fled before Albus could cast a charm to set her clothing back to rights.
Sirius just hoped that he could face Remus' wrath. He could not remember the last time he'd seen Moony this upset. Maybe Sirius was going to literally be in a doghouse, as they were heading to a courtyard near their rooms.
Remus removed his belt, outer robe and the dishdasha, folding and laying them on a stone bench, then sat to remove his boots, his socks and roll the cuffs of the white sirwal above his knees.
Sirius was mystified. This was punishment? He could look at half-naked Remus all day.
Taking up his wand, Remus gave a stern flick and a washtub popped into being. "Aqualgidus." Water splashed into the basin as Moony summoned soap, brushes and towels.
Sirius shivered and gave Moony a pathetic, pleading look. Remus' brows drew together and for a moment the angry wolf-smell of him was overwhelming.
With the air of a man going to his own hanging, Sirius walked up to the tub and dipped in a paw and shivered again. But as his lover/friend had taken a brutal scolding, Sirius swallowed his objections – not that barked objections would get him far – and got into the tub before Remus put him there instead.
Oooh, Moony!
If Sirius' dog-jaw had been constructed for it, his teeth would have been chattering!
Remus silently washed away all of the stuff that was mashed into Sirius' coat, deliberately hitting every ticklish spot as he went. Sirius' left leg paddled wildly, splashing water everywhere, and by the time Moony rinsed him down with another arctic deluge, Sirius was more sorry than he had ever been in his life.
The metal comb reiterated all the ticklish spots and by when it was all over, Sirius was whining his deep and earnest repentance.
"Fine. Sorry works, but dammit S-Toffee! You should know better! I – oh never bloody mind. It's all been said before and I really don't care to say it again." With a flip of his wand, Remus banished the tub and accoutrements of torture. "I've got to have meals and meetings with those people, so does Emily, and as if being a mercenary and a dark-spawned beast aren't enough, we now have uncontrollable familiars! Maybe Albus should just find someone else to take up for Umbridge – I'm doing more harm than good."
The tone of Moony's voice was so bitter, his scent so flat and defeated, that Sirius was stunned. How the hell should he respond to this? Remus was the optimist, Sirius the cynic – but how could Remus believe something so completely cockeyed?
"Professors Lupin and Mayborne, report to the Governor's boardroom in fifteen minutes." A man's voice spoke in carefully neutral tones over the address system.
Remus sighed, picking up his sandals and draping his robes over one arm. "And it appears that a good few someones agree with me. Let's go, I need to change."
~
Emily looked up from putting on her graphorn hide boots to see that Professor Snape had come out from under the bed.
"Now I see the advantages of having house elves. If you did that in our apartment you'd be covered with dust-bunnies." Missy was going to be pissed; she'd done all that packing for nothing. Emily stood and reached for her coat, pulling on in a swirl of black. "I figure if I'm going down, it's going to be in flames. They can give me the sack, but I'm damned if I'll be intimidated. I'm an Acquisistor - proud as sin and twice as mean."
She was well aware of the intimidation factor in an Acquisitor's clothing and was going to use it to the hilt; otherwise she was just little Ravenclaw Emily with the glasses and brown hair. The coat and boots were black, as was the black knit cotton pullover. The khaki trousers showed a well-toned thigh under the cloth and her wand was prominently displayed, hanging from her belt loop.
Snape simply eyed her and then looked at the floor.
"You don't have to say it. You damned near drowned in your own testosterone and had to piss off the dog – so to speak." Emily smirked and Snape flattened his ears. "I wish I knew the whole story between the two of you. I asked Remus, but he said it was your tale to tell."
"Mrrr."
"Be that as it may, you'll no doubt have your rooms back after this little meeting." She picked up her hat and settled it over her carefully braided hair. "I hope you'll continue to write to me. I've… found much to value in our correspondence." There was a great deal more that Emily wanted to say, but ultimately felt that he would not want to hear it. If Professor Snape needed to be proper with her, she would return the courtesy. "Don't want to be late to my own execution. Good-bye, sir."
It took all her will not to look back as she left the rooms and shut the door behind her. At least out of all of this, Emily felt that she'd had one wish fulfilled - albeit in a half-assed way.
She had gotten to put her hands all over Severus Snape.
~
If the Governors and staff were expecting two chastened people to appear before them – they were getting far from what they expected. When Minerva opened the boardroom doors to admit Remus Lupin and Emily Mayborne, there were not two penitent and contrite professors worried for their jobs waiting humbly in the hall. There was an Acquisitor in full field dress from hat to boots and a werewolf in a set of dark blue robes that made him look rather sinister, but very elegant. Emily wore pureblood hauteur like a second skin and Remus's golden eyes looked molten.
With a gentlemanly courtesy, Remus offered his arm to Emily and swept them both into the room, Minerva's look of warning unheeded. Pointedly declining the chairs set for them in the break of the U-shaped table, they stood as if they had nothing better to do.
Lucius Malfoy stood and favored them with a slight bow. Whatever he was up to, the Silver Serpent was working an agenda of his own. Ostrow had resigned and all but run from the school and Narcissa Malfoy – suit and coiffure repaired - now sat in his place, but Narcissa often ran her own agenda right under that of her husband's.
Emily and Remus returned the bow millimeter for millimeter.
Lucius' smile was icy as he spoke, "I find myself in a very odd position, Professors. The Governors of Hogwarts are almost evenly split on firing you both. Several of your colleagues have spoken of you in only the most vituperative terms and demanded that you be removed immediately from your positions in this school and from the demesnes as well. I will make the minutes of our discussion available to you, or to your solicitors, should you feel it appropriate."
Several of the governors and the usual suspects among the staff paled and shifted. Minerva thought it would serve them right to be exposed for what they were. For all they sang a song of tolerance in public, they were some of the nastiest bigots when behind closed doors.
Taking his seat and leaning back with all of the considerable arrogance a Malfoy could muster, Lucius continued, "I also find myself agreeing with Professor Dumbledore's assessment of you both as competent professionals and have expressed my distress at the prejudicial attitudes of my fellows concerning the affliction of lupinism. After all, it's not as if anyone goes looking for a werewolf to bite them, yet they seem to be deeply concerned that this 'taint' is somehow a danger." Looking from Emily to Remus and back again, he asked. "I am under the impression that Wolfsbane potion permits a degree of relief from the more… bloody aspects of the illness?"
Lucius Malfoy doing his best philanthropic-pillar-of-the-community bit. Minerva tried not to gag – she felt she might bring up a hairball in the middle of the table if she did.
"To a degree, yes," Emily replied. "While the potion, developed by Master Piero Dorato di Sabatini of the University del Calderone does not prevent the physical change, it depresses the wolf-mind to a degree that human faculties can operate."
"And you know this how?" one Governor replied testily.
"I have worked extensively with Master Sabatini. My confidentiality clause prohibits any other disclosures." Emily paused and tilted her head at the fool. "You may, however, feel free to contact the good Master. I am very certain that he will assure you at length and in depth as to my qualifications."
Albus chuckled and Minerva bit back a smile at the ripple of unease that swept the room. To say that Piero di Sabatini did not suffer fools gladly was an understatement. One of the greatest minds in the potions field, he was a master not only of potions but of herbology and alchemy. Minerva thought that the Italian master was what Severus wanted to be when he grew up. Severus could not be said to revere much of anyone or anything, but Minerva thought that his pantheon might well be composed of Albus Dumbledore and Piero Sabatini.
The Serpent smiled again. "I have no doubts, Madam, as to your ability. However, I am given to understand that brewing this potion is often considered a Masterwork. I would not have you overextend yourself."
There was a subtle sparring tone under the words. Half the wizarding world knew that Lucius and his daughter's mate did not get along. Lucius was a bully and always had been - if he could not get his way with charm and wile, he had no compunctions about using other methods. Emily hated bullies, and according to gossip, the first and last time the pair had been at crossed wands – whether by luck or skill on Emily's part, or Lucius' underestimating his opponent - Lucius had taken a thrashing.
If Lucius Malfoy did not harbor spite toward young Emily – for that and several other things – Minerva would eat her hat.
"I am quite capable of brewing whatever potions may be required during my employment here." Emily's tone was flat, but the words were an outright challenge.
Mouth twisting in that hateful not-sneer that masqueraded as a wry smile, Lucius began to reply, but subsided at a look from Narcissa.
"We are only concerned that such a complicated and demanding potion would tax you to a dangerous extent," Narcissa's voice was compelling, trained mezzo-soprano. "Severus Snape is a Master of over a decade's standing and this is a major undertaking even for him. You are very well-trained, but even if all you lack is a formal credential, this is still out of your experience." Narcissa turned her gaze to Dumbledore. "I do not dispute Professor Mayborne's skill in Potions, but I have concerns as to her experience. If you would permit her to contact Master Sabatini and ask his guidance in this matter, then I will offer no objections."
There was a game afoot, and from Lucius' expression – or lack thereof – it was not the one that he expected.
Albus nodded, "Indeed. I am certain that Severus would say the same thing, were he here."
Narcissa nodded in return, taking up the reins of the Board as if she had spent her life in the saddle. Lucius watched his wife with a bemused smile as she summoned a small pair of green wire-rimmed spectacles and a sheaf of parchments. "Now, Professor Lupin. This potion enables you keep your reason against the pathogen in it's contagion stage, is that correct?"
"Yes, Madam," Remus replied.
"Forgive me, but I must ask; should the Wolfsbane be unavailable, how will you safeguard the occupants of this school and of Hogsmeade? I am given to understand that werewolf form is stronger by some magnitude than that of the equivalent man."
Remus smile was grim, "Indeed , Madam. In lupine form, I am significantly stronger, but not so strong as to be able to punch through three feet of solid rock. The oldest dungeons held all manner of dangerous beings, they can serve to do so again."
"Should it come to that, Remus, I have a timed release sleeping potion that can keep you out for as long as thirty-six hours." The young woman rested a hand on the Remus' arm. "I will not have you protect everyone else only to harm yourself."
"I have enough Wolfsbane from my last Transformation to get me past the next full moon. I can give you that much."
"All settled? Let's have the vote, then." Narcissa looked around the table, "Come, come! I expect that at least some of you will vote the strength of your convictions? There's nothing in the bylaws that says they cannot stay. Now, all in favor of the removal as Emily Mayborne as substitute for Severus Snape stand and call your vote…"
In the end, both Emily and Remus retained their jobs by a significant measure. Some of those who had inveighed against them in private caved with the two standing right in front of them. Lucius and Narcissa voted in favor, but Lucius got his dig in about keeping a firm hand with their familiars.
If Lucius knew the real story of what was going on - Minerva pinched her lips to stifle the wicked smile she felt coming - he'd just have a cat.
~
It was a lovely evening.
Lucius sat in his study, with all the windows open to catch the evening breeze. Slouched in his favorite chair – the one Narcissa refused to allow in any other room of the house – he contemplated his lady wife with some amusement and a little annoyance. Narcissa lounged on the black leather couch, looking as hoyden in private as she was proper in public.
Lucius once again thanked the spirit of his long-dead sire for having some forethought as to what his son might desire in a wife when he had arranged the match.
"Que tracez-vous, ma jolie fleur?" Lucius drawled, "Et vous pourriez m'avoir dit à ce sujet à l'avance."
Almost a thousand years since what was known in the family histories as 'the Crossing,' the 'white French' families of Malfoy, Rosier, LeStrange, Poitier, Aglion, Hainault, Vautour, and Guignard still spoke French in private.
"Ah, mais mon seigneur et mari, j'ai eu besoin de vous pour sembler étonnant." Narcissa stretched, catlike, and smiled at him.
Lucius returned the smile, letting his eyes delight on her silk-clad legs. Muggles called the silk tubes 'stalkings' and the shoes were 'high-heels.'
"It would seem I succeeded against all expectations, Ma Dame Qui Doit être Obéie."
She threw a pillow at him. "Mordez-moi!"
"Comme ma dame souhaite, ainsi j'obéissez." Lucius came out of his chair in a rush. Fighting his way to the sofa against a barrage of pillows, he pounced the temptress and began to do his best to comply with her earlier command.
Narcissa squealed.
And bit back.
Before she tore his waistcoat and shirt open in a hail of buttons.
Before he undid the buttons on her skirt and blouse with his teeth.
Before they were shedding the remainder of their clothing, kissing and touching each other as feverishly as newlyweds.
She straddled him, steadying herself with one slender hand on his chest as she took him.
Even after almost twenty-five years, perhaps because of them, Lucius loved his wife. He might take a pretty boy or girl to toy with now and then, but oh good lord none could ever match his Narcissa for the total package of looks and intelligence.
He loved the color her skin flooded with when she rode him like this, and he loved to watch her take her pleasure. With a roll of his hips, he met her, encouraging her with his fingers, pulling her down by her hair for kisses that left both their mouths swollen.
Narcissa's eyes closed, her mouth falling open in a cry of delight that made Lucius groan in sympathy, bucking into her so hard that her knees left the floor. He struggled to keep is eyes open, to watch her even though his own orgasm was winding tight in his spine, pulling everything into that skin-too-tight demonic need to thrust and she yes yes like that she needed it like that the tight little ripples of her pleasure merging, clenching, oh beautiful and…
"Now… now oh Lucius I… Oh! Oh! Please!" The last word was a wail as she chased after that last little push and he gave it to her, lost in the heat that was making him buck, his hands around her slender waist and so damn… fucking… good! He was a heartbeat behind her, holding her tight as his need took over and he was lost in the rushing, thrusting release.
There were definite advantages to having the children out of the house. Lying naked, sweaty and smiling on the floor of the study after screaming, loud, brain-melting sex was one of them. Narcissa lay sprawled on him, her head tucked under his chin, eyes closed and contented. Lucius could not have moved if someone had come in, pointed a wand at him and threatened him with an Unforgivable.
Trailing a hand down one arm, Lucius took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Le plus doux des fleurs, ma dame de tout le plaisir, je t'aime."
In turn, Narcissa drew his hand to her lips, feathering small kisses across the knuckles. "Mon tigre blanc charmant, vous êtes le plus cher à mon coeur. Je t'aime, mon mari."
He did not realize until much later that she had not, in fact, answered his question.
~
Severus had been in the middle of his bed, trying to commit to memory as much of Emily's scent as he could - well, as much as he could over the girly-goo scent that she had inflicted on him – when she came bursting through the door and made a running leap onto his bed.
She wasn't fired and neither was Remus and bloody Lucius needed an arse-kicking for even suggesting that she couldn't handle the job but Narcissa stepped in and made the whole board and those stupid bastards who somehow stole professors' robes shut up and march and she could so brew Wolfsbane she'd write to Piero anyway and she wasn't sacked and she didn't know whether or not to be happy about that but you should have seen their faces and I have to write to Missy do you want something to eat?
Damn it! What was Lucius doing back on the Board? What was Narcissa doing on the Board? Wait a second! Wolfsbane? Emily was planning to brew Wolfsbane? Well of course she is, you idiot, where else is Lupin going to get it? And Piero? As in Master Piero di Sabatini? Just a moment. Piero? Since when was a journeywoman on a first name basis a senior master? What the hell was going on around here? Piero?!
"Mierow?"
~
To: Artemisia Veronique-Jolie LeStrange-Malfoy
The Rose Building on Vertic Alley at LeFay
Maisonette 6; Fourth Floor
London
From: Emily Rowan Mayborne
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Hogsmeade
Dear Missy,
Hello, my love. I miss you terribly! Are you well? Do you miss me?
You were right about needing the extra bedding, not only against the dampness but… well, I can't really explain it to you; you'll have to see it. Honestly, it makes the Bed of Ware look modest! Nine feet wide, Seven and a half feet long. Enough green velvet in the bed curtains to swath an opera house. The damned thing weighs a ton or I should hope to kiss a troll. Every inch of it has carving or marquetry or inlay and the canopy is big enough for a castle gate! I think it's Florentine work and possibly early Renaissance. It reminds me of the bed we had at the University. I swear, love, it's big enough for a Quidditch pitch! Either our buttoned-up Professor Snape has a great deal of company or an edifice complex. It is sinfully comfortable, though. I look forward to your thoughts on the matter.
It has been an eventful time for me, let me tell you. If you harbored any thoughts that being a teacher was as non-political as you could get, guess again…
Curled up on the sofa, Artemisia read the three-page letter with fascination and trepidation. Her father in the same square mile as her Emmy, that was enough to make her very nervous. With her mother in proximity, though, it would moderate his behavior – but only to an extent. Lucius Malfoy hated to be balked in anything, and Artemisia and Emmy had done it with regularity since they were fifteen.
The conduct of the Board was no surprise, but she was taken aback at the conduct of certain professors.
She was also unaware that Snape had a familiar – she knew about Polaris the owl, but not about Pamiu the tomcat.
It also appeared that Emily was making a friend. Missy was rather proud of that, it was not easy for her mate to do so - Emily was terminally shy in certain areas. Remus was a very nice man, a professor and a… werewolf.
Missy burst out laughing. If it wasn't for Emmy's odd taste in companions they'd never have been together, but sometimes her taste in men was a little strange.
Still, Missy promised herself a good look at this nice fellow. If Emily was going to be at Hogwarts for a significant period of time, she'd need a safe bed-friend for when Artemisia couldn't be there. Perhaps it was time to issue another 'hunting license' – Emily would never ask, but Missy knew.
The last one had been, what, over a year ago? Egypt? Artemisia clucked her tongue; Emmy was slacking.
Sweeting;
I miss you madly and can't wait for next weekend! Will you meet me in Hogsmeade? I can just Floo up to the Three Broomsticks.
As for the Bed, I do look forward to putting it to good use. I can't imagine Snape – ahem! – hosting home games. Speaking of Snape, any word on where he is or when he'll get back? Any word at all for that matter? If it's a family dispute, it could run for weeks! I don't know how familiar you are with his family, but they make us Malfoys look placid and sweet-natured!
If it's a dust-up with his g'grandmother Eleanora, we might get him back in one piece. Whether or not that piece would be breathing is open to question.
Now, tell me all about this Remus Lupin. Is he handsome? Kisses well? You didn't say.
If you could manage to talk to Drake, I'd appreciate it. I know that he's angry with me – or us – but I've not had a response to any of my owls since he started school. Just tell him…
You know what to tell him.
I love you, my darling. Write and tell me about your first week on the firing line.
Hugs and kisses,
(and a few more naughty things)
Your loving Missy
~
Just for equality's sake, Emily knocked on Remus' door.
"Modern witch, aren't we?" he grinned and let her in. "How are you doing? You left so fast…"
Toffee looked at her and slunk out of the room, tail between legs.
"I was… Remus, I have never known that blushing could hurt. I wanted to just fall through the floor." Even now her face heated. Just when you thought that you could not be more embarrassed, something came along and just flattened you.
"Don't do that. You'll ruin your… is that Arab dress?" Remus shook his head, still smiling. "You're going to give Minerva McGonagall fits. Most of the faculty has very definite ideas about the solemn dignity and propriety of professorial demeanor."
"Well, then they better get a professor in my place. I'm not going to pretend that I'm something I'm not." Like hell she'd parade around in Masters robes when she hadn't earned the wearing. "But yes, it is Arab dress. Missy and I spent some time on an assignment in the Rub al-Khali, mostly in Ubar." The gold embroidered spice-brown silk dress was a gift from Farah Al-Sabah – who had felt that it was heartlessly plain.
"I'll go change into my bisht, give me a moment."
As she waited, Emily looked around Remus' den. The furniture was old a mix of stuff from the school attics, the portraits on the wall generic enough to know that they were not his. The only things that seemed to be his was a bookcase as tall as she was and the width of her spread arms and a homey-looking braided rug on the floor. The books in the case were diverse, covering subjects from ancient Babylonian spells and charms to… 'Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance?'
There was a cough behind her and Emily turned, blushing. "Sorry. Some people snoop bathroom cabinets. I snoop bookshelves."
Remus chuckled, a nice warm sound to Emily's ear. "Well, you are a Ravenclaw after all!"
He did look quite exotic in his Arab robes, the gold in the embroidery on the bisht setting of the gold in his eyes. The faintly lupine cast of his features made him quite striking, with even his hair seeming to echo a wolf's coloration.
Remus' nose twitched, and for a moment he looked… hungry. "We'd best be getting to the Hall." He offered his arm, a gentlemanly wolf, and smiled at her.
My, what big teeth you have, ProfessorLupin.
Emily slapped the stray thought away as she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.
~
I can't be alone with her. Not if she's going to smell like that. To hell with perfume, she doesn't need it.
They strolled toward the Great Hall, chatting idly, Remus using the time to clear his head. "Tell me about your mate, Emmy."
Safe subject. She has a mate. If she talks about her, I'll remember that. And Malfoys do not like to share!
"Missy?" Emily smiled and her scent turned… melty, like caramel over a cinnamon bun. "She's… everything to me. We've been together for so long. We had a trine for a time, but Susan felt that she needed something else. It was amicable, we're all friends, but Susan's so busy going back and forth between London and Bangkok that we hardly see each other."
A… trine? Three…? Oh… my.
"Lucius doesn't care for what we do, or what we've done with our lives. My family had fits when they found out, but I think it was more about being an Acquisitor than anything else." A frown ghosted across her forehead, "Or maybe it's because Missy looks so much like her father that it's scary. They see they face and hear the name, and they can't see anything but Lucius."
Now that would be a burden. Looks aside, Lucius was an evil, scheming bastard. Oddly enough, Remus had little trouble with Draco, though the boy was far too advanced in the Dark Arts for Remus to be comfortable. Now with Lucius playing noblesse oblige, Remus was wary. Werefolk were classed as beings, but treated as beasts. It would be easy for the charismatic and powerful Lucius to unite those often damaged souls behind him.
"How did you become Acquisitors? It seems odd that – forgive me – a pair of pureblood princesses would even consider it." It did seem odd. The Maybornes had given trouble to the Romans, whereas the Malfoys had been in the pay of Rome – or anyone else with money and power. The family had an uncanny ability to pick a winning side. "Was the training very difficult?"
"Yes. Oh, yes. All Acquisitors spend the first year – all year - in classes designed to really hone our talents. We live in student housing, and are only allowed to use our student stipends for spending money. We learn Muggle skills, in the field we often have to pass for Muggle, so we learn to drive automobiles, negotiate Muggle bureaucracy and travel methods." Emily suddenly giggled, "We even learn to cook! Oh, what Missy did to the Christmas goose our first year!"
Remus listened to the trials and travails of a pair of purebloods navigating Muggle life and had to laugh. The account of Missy and Emmy on an 'arrow plane' was hilarious, especially the part about Artemisia calling the in-flight bar service 'the anesthesia cart' and asking for the 'vodka flavored one, please.'
They took their seats still laughing, ignoring the stares of their colleagues. Albus was twinkling at them, as he always did, but Minerva looked about ready to ask for the anesthesia cart herself.
"I envy you Emily. All the places you've been, everything that you've seen." He felt wistful, even though he had know since earliest childhood that travel outside of Britain was prohibited for werewolves. Even inside Britain, the Ministry required notification for every overnight trip, whatever the phase of the moon. To break those rules was to risk confinement in an institution for the rest of one's life.
Emily laid a hand on his, curling her fingers tight. "If you wish it, if you really want to travel, find me in London after Umbridge comes back. I can think of three places where you would be welcome in a heartbeat. Oh, look! Here they come!"
The older students came filing in and filled in their tables. He saw Harry's grin clear across the room and waved in return – when had he gotten to looking so grown up? Hermione was wearing a prefect's badge and looked a little harassed, her hair seeming to frizz with ire. Ron gave him a nervous smile, but Fred and George grinned when they caught his eye and applauded. Others stared with animosity, but they were blessedly few. After Remus left Hogwarts the last time, he'd been caught in a blizzard of owls from a number of his former students, begging him to come back or asking to drop by.
He heard a soft group howling from the Slytherin table – and glanced over to see a good many smiles and thumbs up. Riding herd on that lot would give any Dark Arts teacher grey hairs – their overriding moral was 'Don't get caught,' while ethics were limited to 'Do unto others, but only if it can't be traced back to you.' Come to think of it, quite a few of them were in his Combative Magics class this year – add more grey hairs.
Young Draco had sprouted over the summer as well, and like Hermione, wore a prefect's badge next to his House crest. The boy was staring wide-eyed at himself and Emily, Remus waved and got a nod in return. The boy's attention was riveted on Emily.
The gaze was cut short by the arrival of the first years, the wide-eyed little ones gazing about in awe as they were escorted into the Hall by Aurors in their black robes, and two half-giants who had to duck in order to fit thought the doors.
Remus was as excited as a first year himself, the memory of that day was one of the best of his life – though he did not belive that he could possibly have been so very young!
Minerva brought out the stool and the Sorting Hat, the Muggle-borns in the crowd of children catching the excitement from the Wizarding-born and then gaping in astonishment as the Hat began to sing.
A thousand years have passed
Since first I first sang my song
Many are the witches and wizards
Who have before you gone
An old hat, a shabby hat
You will surely say
But I am Hogwarts' Sorting Hat
And this is your Sorting Day
So some sit down and try me on
Have no fear of me
Though there are things inside your heads
That only I can see
Perhaps in Gryffindor you shall grow
With the true and brave and strong
Or in wise and learned Ravenclaw
With the quick-witted you'll belong
Maybe in stolid, loyal Hufflepuff
Will you take your rest
Perchance in cunning Slytherin
Will you fit the best
So come along
And put me on
You may give your trust, you see
For of all the hats in all the land
There's no smarter hat than me!
Emily clapped in pure delight, too enchanted to be jaded.
Minerva began to call the roll, "Catherine Holland!"
The little brunette girl with her hair in pigtails came shyly up the stairs and too a seat on the stool. The hat came past her eyes, and moved. "Hmmm. Ah, yes, very good mind here. Not a shirker, no! Modest, caring. Good bit of backbone, too."
Emily whispered, "Hufflepuff."
"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Catherine went off to her table, blushing at the applause and welcomes of her new House.
"Donald MacLachalan!"
And so it went. Remus and Emily tried to guess the House before the Hat called it out. Remus managed to pick all the Gryffindors and most of the Hufflepuffs, but only got half of the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. Emily had a keen eye for Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but only managed to predict half of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.
If the celebration following was more subdued than in years past, there was good reason. Dumbledore gave the usual warnings about the third floor and the Dark Forest, Filch made his dour appearance, and then the feast began.
The students attacked the food as if they were werewolves themselves.
Remus could see three heads of hair pressed together over at the Gryffindor table – black, red and brown. Occasional looks were darted at the high table, and Remus would bet his last knut that they were speculating on Severus' absence.
The meal ended with the prefects leading their new charges back to the dormitories. The staff took their leave, getting ready for the start of classes in the morning. Remus walked Emily back to her rooms, and was surprised to find Draco Malfoy waiting in the hallway.
"Emmy? Is that… I mean, how?" the boy laughed, enfolding Emily in a tentative hug. The boy had put on a growth spurt, though still whippet-thin, he was close to being as tall as Emily. "Where's Professor Snape? Is Missy with you? Is she angry with me? I've sent owls, but she never writes back. Are you still together? Are you teaching really Potions? Are you still an Akkie?"
"Drake! I thought that was you! Look at you!" Emily pushed the boy back and ran her fingers through his hair. "You've gotten so tall! And so handsome!" The boy turned a brilliant, glowing pink and wriggled like a pup. "Yes, I'm still an Acquisitor, still with Missy, teaching Potions until Snape can… return. What do you mean you sent owls? We never got them. Didn't you get ours?"
"No. Never. Not one." Draco's face was suddenly bitter, but it passed so fast that Remus almost doubted he'd seen it. Only the scent of the boy's heart-hurt convinced him otherwise. "Look, I have the Talk with the newbies. Can I find you later?"
"The morning's going to be a nightmare. I have an orientation as acting Head of Slytherin, and then I have classes all day. Make it tomorrow after classes, either in Sn… my office or my rooms." An expression of pure mischief crossed her face, "That is, if you're still speaking to me by then."
"I've just found you again, you madwoman. Why would I not speak to you?" With a rib-creaking hug and a kiss on Emily's cheek, Draco took his leave. "I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, Em – Professor Mayborne, Professor Lupin."
When the boy was gone and the halls were quiet but for Peeves – freshly awake and boisterous with adolescent energy - Remus was unable to restrain himself.
"All right, Miss Mayborne. What mischief are you about? Be quick about it, girl, or I'll have ten points from Ravenclaw."
Emily's rude raspberry rivaled Peeves' best. "For me to know and everyone else to live with, Master Big Bad Wolf!"
He stopped them on the landing above her rooms. "Master Big Bad Wolf, is it? You cheeky thing!" he almost growled, slipping an arm around her waist before he could think about it. "That must make you Little Red Riding Hood, then."
Oh, good. His hand fit just right around her waist, resting where her hips began their gentle curve.
Oh, bad. She moved closer, looking up into his eyes, her scent warm, welcoming and unafraid.
"A bit of advice. Master Big Bad Wolf – don't bite off more than you can chew." With that, Emmy went quickly on tiptoes to press a kiss right on his silly, gaping mouth. Then she whisked off down the stairs, leaving him staring and utterly speechless.
It was shaping up to be an interesting year.
~
