Chapter 11

"So, then we went for a three hour walk in the moonlight," Fleur gushed. She was sprawled on Isabelle's four-post bed, leafing through a magazine. "Ew. These robes are positively revolting."

"The brown ones?" Isabelle asked, trying to paint her toenails without spilling polish on the floor.

"Yes. They look like burlap sacks. I have to find something new for the holidays," she said, frustrated. "I saw that."

"What?"

"You rolling your eyes. I can't help it. Charlie's just the first guy I've ever met who actually talks to me. Not just at me, but to me. He treats me like I'm a real person, a smart person with ideas and opinions." Fleur buried her head in her hands. "Listen to me. I sound like a lovesick idiot."

"I think someone put a love potion in the water. Everyone I know is in the middle of a steamy love affair."

"Including you?"

"Absolutely not. Among other reasons, there is a definite lack of options around this place." Isabelle heard a knock at her bedroom door. "Come in," she called. Sirius poked his head in the room.

"Oh, hi Fleur. I didn't know you were here. How are you?" he asked.

"Fine, thank you. I didn't know you speak French," she responded, surprised.

"Hidden talent," he said sheepishly. "What time is the Halloween banquet?"

Isabelle looked at her watch. "In about fifteen minutes."

"Thanks." He disappeared back into the hallway.

"Ugh. It's been a rough day, so I think I'm skipping this one. Are you going?"

"I'm supposed to meet Charlie there. Stop that!" she said, throwing a pillow at Isabelle, who was making faces at her.

"You'd better go, then. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting," she teased. Fleur blushed, but did hurry out of the house to arrive at the banquet on time.

Isabelle rummaged around in her wardrobe for her heaviest coat, and headed for the main castle. She snuck in using a back entrance she knew about courtesy of the Marauder's Map, and went to the Astronomy tower to think. Severus had only left two days ago, but she was already crazy with worry over him. She knew that the only reason he told Sirius anything about her marriage was because there was a very good chance that he would never come back.

He has to come back, she told herself firmly over and over. He's the only person in your life who's never deserted you, and never will. You can count on him. She jumped, as a hand touched her elbow.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," said a deep voice. Andrew Patil studied her carefully. "Is something bothering you?"

"Oh, just worried about a friend, that's all."

"So, you're seeking answers in the stars?" he joked.

"No, not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly?"

"Exactly that. I can't tell you. You'd make fun of me."

"No, I wouldn't. Try me."

"Ok, fine," she gave in, laughing. "When I first came to Hogwarts, I missed my family terribly. So, I would sneak out of my dorm room at night and come up here and look at the stars. You see, I assigned a star to each member of my family. When I would get lonely, I would pick a person's star, and pretend that they were there, smiling down at me. That way, they were always with me. Sounds ridiculous, huh?"

"No, it doesn't. So, which star belongs to what person?"

Isabelle pointed out the stars for her parents, Lily, James, Regina, Remus, Harry and Hermione. Thankfully, she remembered not to mention Severus' star. That would be a bit tricky to try to explain. Andrew watched her animated expression. Ever since they were at Hogwarts together, he had fancied her, and jumped at the chance of becoming her confidant now. Suddenly, he frowned. She had forgotten someone.

"Does Sirius Black have a star? Wasn't he your guardian?" he asked her, puzzled.

She smacked her hand on her forehead. "Sorry. Yes, he was my guardian, and that's his star. It's the closest star to earth, the brightest star in my sky."

The brightest star in her sky. What did that mean? It could mean that he's the most important person to her out of everyone she loves. He found himself becoming incredibly jealous of Black. Or, he told himself, he could be reading far too much into her statement. After all, she didn't even mention him at first.

"Thanks for not making me feel like I'm nuts," Isabelle said. "What are you doing up here, anyway?"

He held up a pair of sunglasses. "I accidentally left them here Saturday when I was babysitting the first and second years. Thought I'd come pick them up while I was thinking about them."

"Well, I'm glad you did." She smiled at him.

"Me, too. Do you think we could do this again sometime?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," she replied. Maybe I was hasty in saying I had a lack of options, she thought, as she walked out of the tower with him, chatting.

-----

"Come ye thankful people come, raise the song of harvest home; all is safely gathered in, ere the winter storms begin. God our--"

"What are you singing?" Remus yawned, sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen.

"It's a Thanksgiving hymn," Isabelle replied, spreading strawberry jam on her toast.

"What's Thanksgiving?"

"It's an American holiday that comes on the fourth Thursday in November, which just so happens to be today."

"What do you do on this Thanksgiving?"

"Eat," she laughed. "It celebrates the harvest, so you cook a ton of food and gorge yourself silly. Then, you waddle to the sofa, where you watch football all afternoon and evening. The Dallas Cowboys always play, and today they're playing the Washington Redskins. Big rivalry. I'm probably going to go over to the lab later and check out the game. It doesn't start until the evening because of the time change. I hope we kick some Texan tail. After all, God's a Redskins fan."

"I'll take your word on that one." Remus looked at her as if she had completely lost her mind.

"Want to watch with me?"

"I'll pass."

"There's going to be cheerleaders."

"Really?" Now he was interested.

"Yes. The Cowgirls are legendary." She gave him a playful punch on the arm. "Besides, how can I watch TV without my buddy?"

"What about Patil?"

She made a face. "I can't watch with him. I have a huge crush on the Redskins quarterback. I need to watch with someone who doesn't mind me drooling all over myself."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. What time?"

"Nine o'clock sharp."

"I'll be there. Now, if only I can wake up enough to teach class."

"I hear you. I actually fell asleep in Muggle Studies yesterday when we were watching a movie in the lab."

He stood up, took a huge swig of tea, and picked up his notes. "Well, I'm off."

"See ya tonight," she reminded him.

She crept to the refrigerator, opened the door, and shuffled around the contents of the bottom shelf until she found a secret compartment. "Alohomora," she whispered, carefully removing a decadent chocolate cake and placing it on the counter. Thinking carefully, she removed a piece of paper and a ballpoint pen, and began to write.

Dear Sev,
Happy anniversary of our dinner! Did you think I would forget? Everything is fine here; a little lonely without you, but I'll manage. I can't wait until you return. Until then, all my love, your thornbird.

Satisfied that the letter was anonymous enough to escape identification by either Sergei or Lucius, she stuffed it in an envelope, and tossed it on the counter. Humming, she took out a knife and swiftly cut the cake along pre-made lines.

"What's that, Belle? Chocolate cake?"

Busted. Darn it, she thought, putting down the knife and looking at Sirius. She had so hoped that no one would discover her favorite treat.

"Not just any chocolate cake," she huffed. "It's Death by Chocolate."

"Death by Chocolate? Sounds morbid. Where did you get it from, a Death Eater bakery?"

"Witty, as usual," she said snidely. "No, from the Trellis, in Williamsburg. I had it overnighted to Hogsmeade. It's a Thanksgiving tradition between Severus and I."

"Oh?" Ever since Halloween, he was trying to keep his sarcastic comments about Snape to a minimum.

"Yes. We've had this cake for dessert every year since our first Thanksgiving dinner. When he moved back here, I would overnight him a piece every year, except when I was married. With him gone, I just wanted something, well, comforting." Her delicate face fell. "Anyway, would you like a piece? This cake's too good to eat alone."

She laughed at the look on his face. He was a notorious chocoholic, and practically dived into a piece. "Whoa! Now the name makes sense. What's in this thing – I've died and gone to heaven."

"There's a pound of chocolate in every slice, between the cake itself, the fillings, and the icing."

The cake disappeared in less than three minutes. Sirius looked at his watch. "Crap. I'm late to class."

"Are you going to give yourself detention?" she teased, as he rushed out of the house. She carefully wrapped a piece of cake with her letter. She gathered her things together, hurried to the owlery, and sent the parcel away.

-----

Harry tossed and turned, lost somewhere in between a dream and reality. A room, lit only by about a dozen candles, came into view, illuminating several hooded figures. He was conscious enough to realize that this dream was perhaps a vision, and tried to focus his eyes on what was before him.

A tall, hooded figure rushed into the room, causing everyone else to murmur quietly. He pushed down the hood of his robe, and approached what appeared to be a man sitting in an armchair. Harry stared, baffled. The man looked exactly like Sirius. Maybe this was just a nightmare, after all.

"Ahh, Sergei," the voice hissed quietly. "How nice of you to join us."

The man kneeled. "Forgive me, my Lord. I had to finish some business that took longer than expected."

Harry's scar exploded with pain. He tried to think past the pain, and concentrate.

"I see. I have been waiting to discuss some business with you myself. Do not keep Lord Voldemort waiting again."

"Yes, my Lord."

He stood up, and bowed. Although Harry could see that this man had black eyes, not grey, and was slightly shorter than Sirius, the resemblance between the two men was unmistakable.

A large owl swooped into the room, dropping a parcel into the lap of a figure seated in a corner, feet propped up on a desk.

"What is that, Severus?"

"Give me a minute, my Lord, and we shall see." Professor Snape untied the bundle, and smiled wryly.

"Bring it to me." Voldemort wrapped his fingers around the box, pulling out the short note, reading it through his red, snake-like eyes. "Interesting. And who is this thornbird that holds you in such high regard?"

Harry could see Snape's slight hesitation. "Stacey Ferguson, an old friend from America that I met while searching for your followers after your demise."

Sergei narrowed his dark, cruel eyes. "Wasn't she a graduate student at New York University at the same time as my wife?"

"I do not know your ex-wife," he replied, emphasizing the ex, "other than socially, so I cannot answer the question."

"Speaking of the Evans woman," the Dark Lord cackled, "I wish to speak with you about her loyalties."

"Her loyalties are obviously with the Potter boy," Sergei spat. "Along with the Black child, and her father. Especially the father."

"Just because her loyalties are not with you does not mean that she has turned her back on our cause completely," came another voice.

"Wise, Lucius. I wish for you to go to Hogwarts immediately to find her. Try to find out if she is devoted to our cause."

"With all due respect, my Lord, I feel that I would be the best choice to talk to her. She is my colleague," Snape interjected.

"No, Severus," Voldemort hissed softly. "I will send someone I trust, whose loyalties have never been in question. And, someone who has limited contact with her and her family, so emotions will not get in the way of finding the truth. Lucius is the best choice. Then, we will plan the best way to kill the Potter boy. And his cousin."

"As you wish."

Harry woke up with a start, drenched in sweat. He reached up to touch his scar. It was blisteringly hot. His mind reeled. What was he supposed to do? He grabbed his invisibility cloak, and tossed it on absentmindedly. He snuck out of the main castle, and headed towards the faculty grounds.

He quietly let himself into the house, walked up the stairs, and knocked on Isabelle's door. A minute later, she appeared in a pale blue tank top and shorts, hair pulled up in a messy bun.

"Harry," she yawned. "Why are you here? Is something wrong?"

"Yes. I need to talk to you," he said urgently.

"What's going on?" Sirius asked, leaning against his doorframe.

"I'm not sure. I had this dream, and I'm not sure what it means."

Sirius and Isabelle looked at each other. Even if this was a simple nightmare, it obviously bothered Harry.

"Alright, why don't we go downstairs and talk about it," Isabelle said reassuringly.

They tiptoed downstairs and sat in the living room. Dobby appeared and brought them drinks, and asked them if they needed anything else twice before Sirius convinced him that they were fine for the night.

"Ok, start at the beginning," Sirius said.

Harry launched into the dream, describing the room, and the people in it. When he said that a woman named Stacey sent Professor Snape a package, Isabelle let out an indignant huff.

"Stacey, indeed! Of all the people to...ooh...I knew he still has a thing for her," she muttered under her breath.

"Wait a minute here. Did you send a piece of that cake to Snape?" Isabelle looked down guiltily. "Are you insane? You could've blown his cover. Of all the stupid, thoughtless things to do, you decide to send a package to a man who happens to be in the same room with your ex-husband and--"

"So what! You heard that Sev covered for me. Although why he picked Stacey...have to ask him about that later."

"We have bigger problems than Snape's love life! The way you're going, you're going to get us all killed."

"Shut up, both of you!" They looked at Harry, shocked. "I swear, you fight more than Ron and Hermione, and twice as loud. At least they argue in English. Now, as I was saying," he continued, describing the rest of the dream. When he was finished, Sirius gave Isabelle a look.

"So, Lucius is coming here. To Hogwarts. For me." Her face was pale.

"So, this dream was really a vision?"

"I'm afraid so. Well, Harry, you're welcome to sleep here if you want to."

"No, Aunt Isabelle. I'm not leaving until I get some answers. All my life, people have kept things from me. I'm sick of it." He crossed his arms.

"It's to protect you, Harry. You have to understand."

"I don't understand, Sirius. Protect me from what, Voldemort?" he snorted. "How am I supposed to stay out of danger, when I don't know what in danger from?"

Isabelle closed her eyes, and exhaled softly. He was right, of course. "Fine, Harry. I'll tell you what you want to know, as long as you tell no one."

"I don't think this is a wise idea."

"It's my story to tell, Sirius."

"It's our story, Belle. It starts with me foolishly running off after Peter Pettigrew shortly before James and Lily died. If I hadn't done that, none of the rest would've happened."

Harry was amazed. This was a side of his aunt and uncle that he had never seen before – vulnerability. Never, until now, had either of them showed any of their private pain to the children. It was difficult to watch, yet he was hanging on their every word.

"You don't know that. When Voldemort went to your parents' house, he sent a band of Death Eaters to our home. All of them ran away, except for one. You know this already. What you don't know is that the Death Eater was Professor Snape."

"What?" Harry gasped.

"Yes, he took Hermione to the Grangers, and me to America, where he and I lived until I became a fully qualified witch. He was our secret keeper."

Of course, Harry thought. It all makes perfect sense. Why hadn't he thought of it before? "And who is this Stacey?"

She laughed. "Very long story. The short version is that Sev and I took a road trip across America once. Well, we weren't very familiar with Muggle cars, and we got a flat tire in Abilene, Texas. So, we're trying to figure out what to do when Stacey walks up and offers to help us. We got to talking, and found out that she was beginning her doctoral work in chemistry at New York University the next fall. She and Sev hit it off immediately, the nerds. So, she ended up coming along on our trip, and we dropped her off in New York."

"Did they, um,"

"Have a love affair?" Isabelle rolled her eyes. "They are so on again, off again. It drives me nuts."

Harry couldn't process the idea of Snape having a girlfriend. He looked at Sirius, and could tell that he was thinking the exact same thing.

"Hey, get that look off your face, Potter. You wanted to know," she teased, ruffling his hair. "Anything else running through that brain of yours?"

"Yeah. What's a thornbird?"

"It's an ancient legend. The thornbird searches its entire life for a thorn tree, and when it finds it, it impales itself on it. As it's dying, it sings through its pain. The legend says that all creation stops to listen to the song, even heaven, because it is the sweetest song ever heard. The lesson is that for the thornbird, being the best is bought at the price of great pain. I suppose the person who wrote that note feels that any pleasure in her life comes with great pain and sacrifice. Nothing is without a cost. Anyway, off to bed with you," she said, shooing Harry upstairs. She stood to go back to bed, when Sirius grabbed her arm.

"Is that how you really feel about your life?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said simply, and walked up the stairs.

-----

"Excuse me? Excuse me, everyone," Professor Dumbledore held up his hands for silence. The entire Great Hall quieted, which was quite a feat, considering that the holiday season was just a few short weeks away. "Thank you. Professor Evans wants to make an announcement, which all of you should find very interesting." His eyes twinkled, as Isabelle stood up to speak.

"As you know, Christmas holiday is coming up soon." The Great Hall erupted in cheers, causing Isabelle to shake her head, smiling. "Well, my Muggle Studies classes have just completed our unit on clothing, and are about to begin studying social gatherings. Muggle children, like yourselves, have dances. So, we're going to have a Muggle-style dance here at Hogwarts, on Christmas Eve night. All Muggle Studies students are required to attend, as well as dress like Muggle teenagers would at a formal dance."

"Can other students come?"

"Yes, Lee, they can. Any Hogwarts student third-year and above may come. Students attending the dance that wish to go home for the holidays will leave December 26th on the Hogwarts Express."

The halls buzzed as students left to go to their afternoon classes.

"I wonder why we're having another Christmas ball," Hermione mused.

"Because someone made such a fuss about the O.W.L. tests and needing time to study in the spring," Harry replied.

"Well, they are only six months away."

"Barely any time to prepare," Ron said sarcastically, narrowly avoiding running straight into Draco.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to go to that bitch's stupid Muggle dance," they heard him say.

"Excuse me? What did you say?"

"Hello, Father," Draco said smoothly, repeating his words. When he finished, his father looked at him through extremely angry eyes and crossed arms.

"Never, and I mean never, call Professor Evans 'that bitch' again. She is your professor, and deserves respect. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes sir," Draco said quietly.

"And another thing. It would do you well to learn how Muggles function, at least on a social level. I fully expect you to attend that dance, and if I hear that you caused any trouble for Professor Evans, you will be punished severely. Now, hurry to class." Draco stared in disbelief as his father stormed down the hallway.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at each other, shocked. That was the last thing any of them expected Lucius Malfoy to say.

"Um, did I just hear what I thought I heard?" Ron asked.

"Yeah. Why is Draco's father here?" Hermione wondered.

"And why would he defend Aunt Isabelle like that?" Harry added.

Didn't Voldemort say that Malfoy had limited contact with her? If that was true, what would possess him to stick up for her?

"Who knows." Ron shook his head, as they hurried to Care of Magical Creatures class.

-----

Lucius Malfoy placed his hand on Isabelle's office door, and paused. All the way to Hogwarts, he convinced himself that this visit was just to placate Lord Voldemort, and nothing more. But, when he heard his own son degrade her, he realized just how deep his feelings for her ran. She was like a poison that overran his system, that had no cure. Deciding to get this over with, he knocked on the door.

"Come in," came the reply. She looked up, and didn't seem a bit surprised to see him.

"Good afternoon, Isabelle," he said tiredly, shutting the door behind him.

"What's wrong?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Just here on business."

"Which is?"

"You. Voldemort wishes to know where your loyalties lie."

She snorted. "What a wasted trip this is. As if I could turn against my own flesh and blood."

"Seeing you is never a wasted trip." He gazed at her intently. "So, I hear that you are seeing a professor here?"

"Yes. I'm just trying to move on, Lucius. I'm trying to create some semblance of normalcy out of the mess that is my life."

"And this Patil is the key to the normal life you seek?"

Another knock sounded at the door, and Sirius let himself in without being asked. Harry told him that Malfoy was at Hogwarts already. Although he had tried to prepare himself for this moment, he had to use every bit of discipline he possessed not to pound him into the ground.

"Yes, Sirius?" Isabelle raised an eyebrow. Since when was she a damsel in distress who needed to be rescued?

"Sorry to interrupt you, but I have some urgent business to discuss with you." His voice was as cold as ice. As were his eyes, which focused on Lucius. "Surely you don't mind."

"Not at all. I've gotten what I came here for. Happy holidays, Isabelle." He stood up, and left the room. Her eyes followed his every move.

"And what did he come here for?" Sirius asked.

"Exactly what was in Harry's dream," she said with no feeling.

"Did you love him, Belle?"

"I have only truly loved one man in my life."

"That was not an answer."

"I know."

They smiled at each other, both realizing that neither one of them wanted to know the answer to that question. Sirius didn't want to face the idea that she could love someone like Malfoy, and Isabelle simply refused to dwell on a relationship that could never be.