Out of the Clear Blue Sky
Chapter Twelve - Secrets Uncovered
A/N: At last, we learn what the exact relationship between Severus and Xiomara is.
Griffith groaned when something tapped on his window. Pulling his head out from under the pillow, he looked over at said window. The same owl that had visited him last night waited patiently for him. Growling under his breath, he stalked over to the window and opened it. The owl swooped in and dropped a letter into his hand. He opened it without ceremony.
_Griffith Hooch,
No one else was going to write it. Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Sylvia would all say it's none of their business and Xiomara would be too proud to write it. I realize it's not my business, but I like to think of your sister as my friend and I don't want to see her hurting like this. I spent *years* longing for a brother or sister. I would dearly love to have a brother such as you, but I don't. I know more about Snape than you might think. Unfortunately for you, it looks like she's *very* happy. You might as well get used to it.
Stewart didn't die. I can't explain it all now, but he *is* alive. And I'm not playing games. I don't see the point in doing so.
Cordially, Tracey Cooper._
Griffith snorted, crumpling the letter up into a ball. Without thinking about it, he addressed the owl. "More than I might think, eh? Does she know he was a Death Eater? That he once served the wizard now threatening our world?"
The owl merely hooted, gazing calmly at the wizard.
* * *
"Stew?" He woke to someone shaking him. "C'mon, Stew, wake up."
"Alright, alright, I'm awake," he muttered, opening his eyes. "Oh, good morning, Ro."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her beautiful yellow eyes. "Sev just told me about Hogsmeade. Is it true?"
Stewart nodded. "Yes, unfortunately. Dumbledore even interrupted Poppy and Alastor on their honeymoon."
Xiomara sighed. "Have you had a chance to talk with Poppy yet?"
He shook his head. "No. She and Alastor got back very early this morning and I imagine they're both tired at this point."
"You're probably right," she agreed with a smile. "I'm sure she'll think of me and how your return affects me."
"Of course," he affirmed. "This is Poppy we're talking about."
"True, true," she concurred. "Anyway, if she brings me up, go ahead and tell her about Sev and I."
Stewart stared at her. "Are you certain?"
She nodded soberly. "I'm going to tell Min and Sylvia, but you and Alastor can tell Poppy."
Stewart slowly nodded. "Alright. It's your decision of course. I take it Severus agrees?"
She nodded. "Yes, he does."
With a swish of her dark blue robes, she was gone. Stewart sighed and laid back against his pillows.
* * *
Xiomara was crossing the entrance hall to go to breakfast in the Great Hall when the front doors swung open. She stared at the figure revealed by them. "Griffith?"
He looked angry as the doors shut behind him. "Where is Miss Cooper?"
"At breakfast, I imagine," Xiomara replied, unsure what to make of her brother's unexpected return. "Did you wish to speak with her?" He nodded stiffly. "Won't you eat first?" He shook his head fiercely. Xiomara sighed. "Alright, fine, but we need to talk. Don't you _dare_ leave before we do."
"Alright." He watched as Xiomara slipped into the Great Hall. She trotted up to the Staff Table, where Tracey and Minerva sat on either side of Albus. The Deputy Headmistress was eating steadily, but Albus' daughter was doing little more than playing with her food.
Xiomara leaned over to murmur in Tracey's ear. "My brother is here and wishes to speak with you."
Tracey's head snapped around and her bright blue eyes met Xiomara's yellow ones. "Are you serious, 'Mara?"
The older witch nodded. "He's waiting in the entrance hall."
Tracey nodded and, abandoning her untouched meal, left the Great Hall. Xiomara moved along the table to her seat beside Severus. He leaned over to murmur a question in her ear. She nodded an affirmative as he began serving her.
* * *
Tracey left the Great Hall to find herself almost face to face with a very angry Griffith Hooch. His blue-gray eyes glittered dangerously beneath his sandy brown bangs. "Hello, Mr. Hooch."
"Don't 'hello' me, Miss Cooper," he practically hissed. "What right do you have to poke your nose into other people's business?"
Without a word, she grabbed his hand and dragged him across the entrance hall to the small room in which the first years waited before they were Sorted. Once the door closed behind them, she spun to face him. "As I said in the letter, no one else was going to try to get through to you. 'Mara is too proud to do such a thing. Professor McGonagall and Sylvia would say it's none of their business, as would Poppy. Fa-- Professor Dumbledore would say it is up to you and 'Mara to settle your differences."
His eyes narrowed. "What was it you almost called Dumbledore?"
"That's none of your business," she snapped, bright blue eyes flashing angrily.
He snorted, but let the matter drop for the moment. "So why did you choose to write?"
"Because your refusal to accept Snape as a proper match for your sister hurt 'Mara deeply," Tracey explained, relieved that Griffith hadn't pushed the issue. "And I don't want to see her hurt."
"How can you be sure Snape won't hurt her?" Griffith demanded. "Do you know that he was a Death Eater once? That he once served the Dark Lord?"
"Yes," Tracey retorted angrily. "I do know, but I've also seen how he treats her. He treats her as if she is more precious than gold or jewels. He treats her the way Alastor treats Poppy."
Griffith stared down at the woman before him. As they'd shot the angry words back and forth, they'd moved closer together, until barely inches separated them. Never a tall man, Griffith was a little disconcerted to have to look down at Tracey to meet her gaze, but she seemed unperturbed to have to glare _up_ at him. "What are you saying, Miss Cooper?"
"That you should give this relationship, or understanding, or whatever's between those two a chance," she answered quietly, calmly. "If you don't, you'll hurt Xiomara very much."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he suddenly found Tracey's mouth to be very kissable. "Alright. I won't interfere with whatever her relationship with Snape is, but I don't make any guarantees."
She smiled up at him. "Thank you, Mr. Hooch."
"Call me Griffith," he replied. "It's a little silly to stick to formality when we've been yelling at each other."
She grinned. "Very well, so long as you call me Tracey."
He nodded and, seized by a sudden impulse, leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Tell Ro I'm ready to talk with her."
Tracey nodded and hastily left the room. She told Xiomara that Griffith was waiting to talk with her and the flight instructor nodded. As she left the Great Hall, she stopped by Minerva and Sylvia's chairs. The two women looked startled, but got up and followed their friend from the Great Hall. They stopped in their tracks when they saw Griffith, but Xiomara crossed the room to face him. "Well?"
"I've decided to give him a chance, Ro," Griffith told her without preamble. Minerva and Sylvia exchanged looks.
"Thank you, Griffith." Xiomara hugged him warmly. He hugged her back. She pulled away and beckoned Minerva and Sylvia over. "There's something about Sev and I that no one except Dumbledore and Alastor know about..."
* * *
"Are you alright, Tracey?" Albus asked his daughter when she resumed her seat.
She nodded. "Yes, Professor. Griffith is making amends with 'Mara."
"Ah." Albus glanced towards the doors. "Because of the letter you wrote to him?"
A red flush suffused her cheeks. "Well, both of them."
"Two?" Albus asked, surprised. Tracey nodded. "Hmm."
She glanced sharply up at her father. "What does that mean?"
"What does what mean?" he asked blandly.
"The 'hmm,'" she explained.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he evaded.
She rolled her eyes. "Never mind."
* * *
"You can't be serious!"
"Do I look like I'm not?" Xiomara demanded. "You can ask Alastor and Dumbledore. They were there."
"Married to the man?" Griffith shot back. "And how long were you lovers before then?"
"A couple years," Xiomara admitted, "but we didn't get married because I ended up pregnant."
"Then why?" Griffith insisted. "Give me one good reason."
"Simple," Xiomara replied with a shrug, "we love each other."
Griffith gaped at her. Minerva took the opportunity to hug her friend. "Congratulations, 'Mara."
"Thanks, Min." Xiomara returned the taller witch's hug.
"Congratulations," Sylvia added, hugging Xiomara as well.
"Thanks, Sylvia." Xiomara returned Sylvia's hug.
They quietly left the room. Griffith was still gaping at his sister. Finally, he spoke. "This is going to take some getting used to."
"I'm sorry to spring it on you this way, but I would have told you on Saturday if you'd been willing to listen." Xiomara was watching him a little nervously.
He sighed and shoved his hand through his hair. "I just need time."
"We don't have much of that," Xiomara told him. "There was an attack on Hogsmeade last night. Sev had to be there, but the worst he did was Stun people. I told Dumbledore as soon as I knew, but the Death Eaters still managed to do a lot of damage. Poppy and Alastor cut their honeymoon short to be there and are probably still asleep."
"What's this about Stew not being dead?" Griffith asked abruptly.
"Where did you hear about him?" Xiomara replied, startled.
"Tracey mentioned he was actually alive," Griffith explained.
Xiomara sighed. "Stew didn't die all those years ago. He was kidnapped and tortured. To prevent his captors from gathering information from him, he buried his memories so deep that even _he_ can't access them. When the people holding him captive were arrested, Stew escaped and made his way to the Forbidden Forest. He lived there for several years before he kidnapped Tracey on Saturday. He only intended to use her to lure us out to the Forbidden Forest so he could talk with us, but she convinced him to actually go to Dumbledore."
A thoughtful look appeared on Griffith's face. "So she can control her temper as well as unleash it."
"I beg your pardon?" Xiomara asked, confused.
He shook his head. "Never mind. Where's Stew now?"
"In the hospital wing," Xiomara told him.
* * *
Minerva's golden spoon rang against her crystal goblet. "Your attention, please?"
All eyes turned to the High Table. Albus stood up. "As many of you have doubtless heard, there was an attack on Hogsmeade last night. Although the Minister insists that the attackers were acting independently, I have reason to believe that they were, indeed, Death Eaters, acting on the orders of Voldemort." A shudder washed over the hall as a whole. "Consequently, Hogsmeade trips have been cancelled for the time being." Students began grumbling amongst themselves. Albus held up his hands for silence. "To make up for that, a Masquerade Ball will be held Hallowe'en night. It is open to students in their fourth year and above. Anyone who attends will be required to wear a costume and mask. Students will not be allowed to have dates to the Ball. At the stroke of midnight, all masks will be removed. I strongly encourage you to participate."
Albus sat down and the students began talking amongst themselves. Minerva leaned in from her seat to speak to Albus. Tracey leaned in to hear Minerva's question. "Albus, does this include staff members?"
He nodded. "Yes, Minerva, it does. In fact, staff members are required to attend." He looked past Minerva and Sarai, to Severus. "No exceptions."
The potions master sighed and nodded to acknowledge Albus' words. Smiling to herself, Tracey returned to her breakfast, contemplating ideas for a costume. In moments, she had hit upon the perfect costume idea.
* * *
When Poppy awoke, she was very glad to be held in Alastor's arms. She'd seen battlefields before, but Alastor's presence had made it easier to handle the blood and gore. Perhaps it was because he was able to replace the nasty images that remained with something beautiful and lovely. With that in mind, she moved closer and kissed him softly. After only a few moments, his arms tightened around her and he deepened the kiss. She moaned into his mouth, her arms circling his neck, slender fingers combing through his grizzled gray mane of hair. It had been a rich mahogany brown before it had turned gray, but he'd always worn it long. Even when wizard fashion dictated otherwise. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her even closer. When his mouth left hers, she made a sound of protest that turned into a moan of pleasure as he began pressing kisses to her throat. She gave herself over to the pleasure being with her husband brought to her and it was a long time before coherent thought returned. "Good morning, Alastor."
He chuckled, his chest shaking beneath her. "Good morning to you, too, Poppy."
She rested her chin on her folded hands. "I could definitely get used to waking up in your arms, Alastor."
"Good," his calloused hands stroked her spine languidly, "because I intend to wake up with you in my arms for many years to come."
She smiled, and then sighed. "I suppose we should get up."
"I suppose you're right." He reluctantly let her get up, admiring her slender figure as she dressed for the day.
She turned her back to him. "Zip me up?"
He reached out and tugged the zipper of her robes up. "I'd rather unzip you, Beloved."
She turned to him with a smile. "As would I, but I really can't stay away too long."
He nodded. "I understand, Poppy." He got up and dressed himself, needing only minimal assistance from his wife. They ate breakfast together before heading down to the hospital wing.
Stewart looked up at the sound of their entrance. "Good morning, Poppy, Alastor."
"You _are_ alive," Poppy commented, a bright smile lighting her face. "I didn't dream it last night."
Stewart smiled as his sister crossed to him and hugged him tightly. "No, you weren't dreaming." He looked at Alastor. "Congratulations on your marriage. I'm surprised it took you two this long."
Alastor smiled slightly and kissed the top of his wife's head while she favored her brother with an annoyed look. "Thank you, Stewart."
"Thank you," Poppy echoed, sitting down in the chair beside his bed. "Now, tell us everything."
A wave of Alastor's wand elongated the chair so he could sit beside Poppy. "Yes, tell us how you managed to escape death."
Stewart spoke quietly, explaining what had happened to him. By the time he'd finished, Poppy was gaping at him and Alastor was looking impressed. "Oh, Stewart, how awful for you."
He shrugged uncomfortably. "It wasn't too bad. I know more about surviving in the forest now."
Poppy raised an eyebrow. "You're practically skin and bones as it is, Stewart. I insist you stay here at Hogwarts until you're in better shape."
He smiled. "Ever the mediwitch, aren't you, Poppy?"
"No," Poppy contradicted, "I'm a sister concerned for her brother's health."
"I've missed you, Poppy," Stewart's voice was choked. "At least, what I remember of you."
Poppy shifted to the bed and hugged her brother once more. "I'll help you get it back, Stewart, I promise."
* * *
"A masquerade ball?" For once, his partner was pleased. "This is a golden opportunity."
"Indeed it iss," he hissed.
"You will do nothing," his partner told him firmly.
They glared at each other for a long moment before he reluctantly dropped his. "Very well."
A/N2: I still need ideas for costumes, although I have most of them figured out. I'd also like ideas for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.
Chapter Twelve - Secrets Uncovered
A/N: At last, we learn what the exact relationship between Severus and Xiomara is.
Griffith groaned when something tapped on his window. Pulling his head out from under the pillow, he looked over at said window. The same owl that had visited him last night waited patiently for him. Growling under his breath, he stalked over to the window and opened it. The owl swooped in and dropped a letter into his hand. He opened it without ceremony.
_Griffith Hooch,
No one else was going to write it. Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Sylvia would all say it's none of their business and Xiomara would be too proud to write it. I realize it's not my business, but I like to think of your sister as my friend and I don't want to see her hurting like this. I spent *years* longing for a brother or sister. I would dearly love to have a brother such as you, but I don't. I know more about Snape than you might think. Unfortunately for you, it looks like she's *very* happy. You might as well get used to it.
Stewart didn't die. I can't explain it all now, but he *is* alive. And I'm not playing games. I don't see the point in doing so.
Cordially, Tracey Cooper._
Griffith snorted, crumpling the letter up into a ball. Without thinking about it, he addressed the owl. "More than I might think, eh? Does she know he was a Death Eater? That he once served the wizard now threatening our world?"
The owl merely hooted, gazing calmly at the wizard.
* * *
"Stew?" He woke to someone shaking him. "C'mon, Stew, wake up."
"Alright, alright, I'm awake," he muttered, opening his eyes. "Oh, good morning, Ro."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her beautiful yellow eyes. "Sev just told me about Hogsmeade. Is it true?"
Stewart nodded. "Yes, unfortunately. Dumbledore even interrupted Poppy and Alastor on their honeymoon."
Xiomara sighed. "Have you had a chance to talk with Poppy yet?"
He shook his head. "No. She and Alastor got back very early this morning and I imagine they're both tired at this point."
"You're probably right," she agreed with a smile. "I'm sure she'll think of me and how your return affects me."
"Of course," he affirmed. "This is Poppy we're talking about."
"True, true," she concurred. "Anyway, if she brings me up, go ahead and tell her about Sev and I."
Stewart stared at her. "Are you certain?"
She nodded soberly. "I'm going to tell Min and Sylvia, but you and Alastor can tell Poppy."
Stewart slowly nodded. "Alright. It's your decision of course. I take it Severus agrees?"
She nodded. "Yes, he does."
With a swish of her dark blue robes, she was gone. Stewart sighed and laid back against his pillows.
* * *
Xiomara was crossing the entrance hall to go to breakfast in the Great Hall when the front doors swung open. She stared at the figure revealed by them. "Griffith?"
He looked angry as the doors shut behind him. "Where is Miss Cooper?"
"At breakfast, I imagine," Xiomara replied, unsure what to make of her brother's unexpected return. "Did you wish to speak with her?" He nodded stiffly. "Won't you eat first?" He shook his head fiercely. Xiomara sighed. "Alright, fine, but we need to talk. Don't you _dare_ leave before we do."
"Alright." He watched as Xiomara slipped into the Great Hall. She trotted up to the Staff Table, where Tracey and Minerva sat on either side of Albus. The Deputy Headmistress was eating steadily, but Albus' daughter was doing little more than playing with her food.
Xiomara leaned over to murmur in Tracey's ear. "My brother is here and wishes to speak with you."
Tracey's head snapped around and her bright blue eyes met Xiomara's yellow ones. "Are you serious, 'Mara?"
The older witch nodded. "He's waiting in the entrance hall."
Tracey nodded and, abandoning her untouched meal, left the Great Hall. Xiomara moved along the table to her seat beside Severus. He leaned over to murmur a question in her ear. She nodded an affirmative as he began serving her.
* * *
Tracey left the Great Hall to find herself almost face to face with a very angry Griffith Hooch. His blue-gray eyes glittered dangerously beneath his sandy brown bangs. "Hello, Mr. Hooch."
"Don't 'hello' me, Miss Cooper," he practically hissed. "What right do you have to poke your nose into other people's business?"
Without a word, she grabbed his hand and dragged him across the entrance hall to the small room in which the first years waited before they were Sorted. Once the door closed behind them, she spun to face him. "As I said in the letter, no one else was going to try to get through to you. 'Mara is too proud to do such a thing. Professor McGonagall and Sylvia would say it's none of their business, as would Poppy. Fa-- Professor Dumbledore would say it is up to you and 'Mara to settle your differences."
His eyes narrowed. "What was it you almost called Dumbledore?"
"That's none of your business," she snapped, bright blue eyes flashing angrily.
He snorted, but let the matter drop for the moment. "So why did you choose to write?"
"Because your refusal to accept Snape as a proper match for your sister hurt 'Mara deeply," Tracey explained, relieved that Griffith hadn't pushed the issue. "And I don't want to see her hurt."
"How can you be sure Snape won't hurt her?" Griffith demanded. "Do you know that he was a Death Eater once? That he once served the Dark Lord?"
"Yes," Tracey retorted angrily. "I do know, but I've also seen how he treats her. He treats her as if she is more precious than gold or jewels. He treats her the way Alastor treats Poppy."
Griffith stared down at the woman before him. As they'd shot the angry words back and forth, they'd moved closer together, until barely inches separated them. Never a tall man, Griffith was a little disconcerted to have to look down at Tracey to meet her gaze, but she seemed unperturbed to have to glare _up_ at him. "What are you saying, Miss Cooper?"
"That you should give this relationship, or understanding, or whatever's between those two a chance," she answered quietly, calmly. "If you don't, you'll hurt Xiomara very much."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he suddenly found Tracey's mouth to be very kissable. "Alright. I won't interfere with whatever her relationship with Snape is, but I don't make any guarantees."
She smiled up at him. "Thank you, Mr. Hooch."
"Call me Griffith," he replied. "It's a little silly to stick to formality when we've been yelling at each other."
She grinned. "Very well, so long as you call me Tracey."
He nodded and, seized by a sudden impulse, leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Tell Ro I'm ready to talk with her."
Tracey nodded and hastily left the room. She told Xiomara that Griffith was waiting to talk with her and the flight instructor nodded. As she left the Great Hall, she stopped by Minerva and Sylvia's chairs. The two women looked startled, but got up and followed their friend from the Great Hall. They stopped in their tracks when they saw Griffith, but Xiomara crossed the room to face him. "Well?"
"I've decided to give him a chance, Ro," Griffith told her without preamble. Minerva and Sylvia exchanged looks.
"Thank you, Griffith." Xiomara hugged him warmly. He hugged her back. She pulled away and beckoned Minerva and Sylvia over. "There's something about Sev and I that no one except Dumbledore and Alastor know about..."
* * *
"Are you alright, Tracey?" Albus asked his daughter when she resumed her seat.
She nodded. "Yes, Professor. Griffith is making amends with 'Mara."
"Ah." Albus glanced towards the doors. "Because of the letter you wrote to him?"
A red flush suffused her cheeks. "Well, both of them."
"Two?" Albus asked, surprised. Tracey nodded. "Hmm."
She glanced sharply up at her father. "What does that mean?"
"What does what mean?" he asked blandly.
"The 'hmm,'" she explained.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he evaded.
She rolled her eyes. "Never mind."
* * *
"You can't be serious!"
"Do I look like I'm not?" Xiomara demanded. "You can ask Alastor and Dumbledore. They were there."
"Married to the man?" Griffith shot back. "And how long were you lovers before then?"
"A couple years," Xiomara admitted, "but we didn't get married because I ended up pregnant."
"Then why?" Griffith insisted. "Give me one good reason."
"Simple," Xiomara replied with a shrug, "we love each other."
Griffith gaped at her. Minerva took the opportunity to hug her friend. "Congratulations, 'Mara."
"Thanks, Min." Xiomara returned the taller witch's hug.
"Congratulations," Sylvia added, hugging Xiomara as well.
"Thanks, Sylvia." Xiomara returned Sylvia's hug.
They quietly left the room. Griffith was still gaping at his sister. Finally, he spoke. "This is going to take some getting used to."
"I'm sorry to spring it on you this way, but I would have told you on Saturday if you'd been willing to listen." Xiomara was watching him a little nervously.
He sighed and shoved his hand through his hair. "I just need time."
"We don't have much of that," Xiomara told him. "There was an attack on Hogsmeade last night. Sev had to be there, but the worst he did was Stun people. I told Dumbledore as soon as I knew, but the Death Eaters still managed to do a lot of damage. Poppy and Alastor cut their honeymoon short to be there and are probably still asleep."
"What's this about Stew not being dead?" Griffith asked abruptly.
"Where did you hear about him?" Xiomara replied, startled.
"Tracey mentioned he was actually alive," Griffith explained.
Xiomara sighed. "Stew didn't die all those years ago. He was kidnapped and tortured. To prevent his captors from gathering information from him, he buried his memories so deep that even _he_ can't access them. When the people holding him captive were arrested, Stew escaped and made his way to the Forbidden Forest. He lived there for several years before he kidnapped Tracey on Saturday. He only intended to use her to lure us out to the Forbidden Forest so he could talk with us, but she convinced him to actually go to Dumbledore."
A thoughtful look appeared on Griffith's face. "So she can control her temper as well as unleash it."
"I beg your pardon?" Xiomara asked, confused.
He shook his head. "Never mind. Where's Stew now?"
"In the hospital wing," Xiomara told him.
* * *
Minerva's golden spoon rang against her crystal goblet. "Your attention, please?"
All eyes turned to the High Table. Albus stood up. "As many of you have doubtless heard, there was an attack on Hogsmeade last night. Although the Minister insists that the attackers were acting independently, I have reason to believe that they were, indeed, Death Eaters, acting on the orders of Voldemort." A shudder washed over the hall as a whole. "Consequently, Hogsmeade trips have been cancelled for the time being." Students began grumbling amongst themselves. Albus held up his hands for silence. "To make up for that, a Masquerade Ball will be held Hallowe'en night. It is open to students in their fourth year and above. Anyone who attends will be required to wear a costume and mask. Students will not be allowed to have dates to the Ball. At the stroke of midnight, all masks will be removed. I strongly encourage you to participate."
Albus sat down and the students began talking amongst themselves. Minerva leaned in from her seat to speak to Albus. Tracey leaned in to hear Minerva's question. "Albus, does this include staff members?"
He nodded. "Yes, Minerva, it does. In fact, staff members are required to attend." He looked past Minerva and Sarai, to Severus. "No exceptions."
The potions master sighed and nodded to acknowledge Albus' words. Smiling to herself, Tracey returned to her breakfast, contemplating ideas for a costume. In moments, she had hit upon the perfect costume idea.
* * *
When Poppy awoke, she was very glad to be held in Alastor's arms. She'd seen battlefields before, but Alastor's presence had made it easier to handle the blood and gore. Perhaps it was because he was able to replace the nasty images that remained with something beautiful and lovely. With that in mind, she moved closer and kissed him softly. After only a few moments, his arms tightened around her and he deepened the kiss. She moaned into his mouth, her arms circling his neck, slender fingers combing through his grizzled gray mane of hair. It had been a rich mahogany brown before it had turned gray, but he'd always worn it long. Even when wizard fashion dictated otherwise. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her even closer. When his mouth left hers, she made a sound of protest that turned into a moan of pleasure as he began pressing kisses to her throat. She gave herself over to the pleasure being with her husband brought to her and it was a long time before coherent thought returned. "Good morning, Alastor."
He chuckled, his chest shaking beneath her. "Good morning to you, too, Poppy."
She rested her chin on her folded hands. "I could definitely get used to waking up in your arms, Alastor."
"Good," his calloused hands stroked her spine languidly, "because I intend to wake up with you in my arms for many years to come."
She smiled, and then sighed. "I suppose we should get up."
"I suppose you're right." He reluctantly let her get up, admiring her slender figure as she dressed for the day.
She turned her back to him. "Zip me up?"
He reached out and tugged the zipper of her robes up. "I'd rather unzip you, Beloved."
She turned to him with a smile. "As would I, but I really can't stay away too long."
He nodded. "I understand, Poppy." He got up and dressed himself, needing only minimal assistance from his wife. They ate breakfast together before heading down to the hospital wing.
Stewart looked up at the sound of their entrance. "Good morning, Poppy, Alastor."
"You _are_ alive," Poppy commented, a bright smile lighting her face. "I didn't dream it last night."
Stewart smiled as his sister crossed to him and hugged him tightly. "No, you weren't dreaming." He looked at Alastor. "Congratulations on your marriage. I'm surprised it took you two this long."
Alastor smiled slightly and kissed the top of his wife's head while she favored her brother with an annoyed look. "Thank you, Stewart."
"Thank you," Poppy echoed, sitting down in the chair beside his bed. "Now, tell us everything."
A wave of Alastor's wand elongated the chair so he could sit beside Poppy. "Yes, tell us how you managed to escape death."
Stewart spoke quietly, explaining what had happened to him. By the time he'd finished, Poppy was gaping at him and Alastor was looking impressed. "Oh, Stewart, how awful for you."
He shrugged uncomfortably. "It wasn't too bad. I know more about surviving in the forest now."
Poppy raised an eyebrow. "You're practically skin and bones as it is, Stewart. I insist you stay here at Hogwarts until you're in better shape."
He smiled. "Ever the mediwitch, aren't you, Poppy?"
"No," Poppy contradicted, "I'm a sister concerned for her brother's health."
"I've missed you, Poppy," Stewart's voice was choked. "At least, what I remember of you."
Poppy shifted to the bed and hugged her brother once more. "I'll help you get it back, Stewart, I promise."
* * *
"A masquerade ball?" For once, his partner was pleased. "This is a golden opportunity."
"Indeed it iss," he hissed.
"You will do nothing," his partner told him firmly.
They glared at each other for a long moment before he reluctantly dropped his. "Very well."
A/N2: I still need ideas for costumes, although I have most of them figured out. I'd also like ideas for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.