Title: Entre Chien et Loup (At Dusk)
Part: 1.5: Chercher midi à quatorze heures
Author: Ryuu-ACey
Archive: Azkaban's Lair, wherever (if you ask, I'll probably say yes)
Summary: Albus Dumbledore revives the Triwizard Tournament in the time of Voldemort's first rising, and sparks fly when werewolf Remus Lupin finds himself snout-to-snout with illegal Animagus Sirius Black, his best friend, and the Tournament itself.
Spoilers: Er...Through GoF, I think, although there might be bits of OotP.
Rating: R (language)
Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine. Technically, one of the girls isn't mine. About the only thing in here that's mine are one-and-a-half characters, and the plot. The characters and world belong to JK and Scholastic and...Warner Brothers? I really don't know, but hope they'll be cool about me taking the kids out to play.
Originally posted: Fanfiction dot net.
Notes: This started simpler than even the prologue turned out to be. I was thinking about how I've seen fics where Remus is portrayed as French, for some unfathomable reason, and I thought--so what if he went to Beauxbatons? The next thing I know, I've got Sirius making friends with a shy, trying-to-be-uncaring but really adorable 11-year-old Severus Snape, Remus becoming and Animagus, and, for a reason I still don't quite understand, elves (it's not exactly a glaring thing, I hope; they just snuck in there, because, frankly, elves rock. Even Pratchett's elves, which are freaky). So this is an AU. This is a twist-the-world-on-its-edge AU. I hope. And I hope you enjoy.
About the Title: It's a terrible French pun, because, of course, it literally means "between dog and wolf", but it's an idiom, and I found it irresistible.
Warnings: Er...language. Definitely. Also, brazen talk about sex.
Dedications: samvimes, because Stealing Harry made me love the fandom again, and made me want to do something big again.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Severus Snape was not the type to worry. Or, at least, to not let others see him worry. He could count on one hand the number of people who had ever seen him nervous about anything, and there was only one person in the world who had ever seen Severus cry.
That said person was now disowned and living with a friend that was not Severus was the reason Severus was worrying. The shaky, rain-soaked note explained a bit of it, and the later Floo conversation with Mr. Potter explained a little more, but the fact remained Sirius' mother had thrown him out of the house, and Sirius hadn't immediately come to him. He was seriously considering going to the Potters' so he could properly shout at his friend.
"Severus? Are you all right?" Severus started, realizing that staring into the fireplace was not the healthiest of behaviors, and probably indicative of something worrying. He turned around, pushing himself to his feet, to meet his mother's gaze. It had been said that Severus was very nearly a duplicate of his mother, and much of it was true. Her hair had begun to grey decades ago, and she had taken on a bit of weight over the past few months, but there was the overlong nose, the stringy black hair, and hovering-on-the-edge-of-disdainful expression that made them easily recognizable as mother and son.
Severus began to nod, but halfway through, froze, and shook his head, a trifle uncertainly. Black eyes unused to expressing concern softened, and Eileen Snape pulled her son into a tight embrace. Life had been difficult for them the past year; her husband, consumed by one of the few Muggle illnesses wizards could not cure, had begun wasting away, to finally fail at the end of the school year, bringing Severus home early for the preparations, the funeral, and the realization that they would not quite land on their feet. He had spent most of the summer working in a small potions shop in Binhaggle Alley, while his mother had turned to her own specialty, harvesting the plants in her garden for use in magical supply shops. They would probably get through this, but it had been rough on both of them.
And so, he'd promised not to make trouble for his mother, and while she wasn't a Legilimens, she had a touch of the Sight, and tended to catch people's emotions as scents. A person who was lying, she'd told him once, smelt like burning hair, and so Severus tried his hardest not to lie to her.
Of course, he tried not to mention the fact that the Snape line would probably die out with him, and as he hadn't exactly found any blokes willing to take up with him other than Igor Karkaroff (though Sirius had offered once or twice, 'just to help a friend out'), he was able to usually get away by saying he simply hadn't found himself a girlfriend, which was true.
But he couldn't lie to her about being upset, because he was, and she'd probably smelt it anyway, like the air after a dreary rain, mildewy and somewhat stuffy.
"It's Sirius. His mum's kicked him out of the house."
Being empathetic had given Mrs. Snape a talent in keeping her feelings inside, but Severus recognized the imperceptible slump in her shoulders; she was going to offer to take Severus' friend in, even though they were barely making it themselves.
"It's all right, mother. Roman Potter was one of the Aurors she called to make sure he stayed out, and he brought Sirius back to their home. It's just..." He trailed off, uncertain how to say it. Severus had built a careful wall between himself and most of the rest of the world. He wouldn't care, and the rest of the world would ignore him. But Sirius Black snuck inside that wall, and it was embarrassing to admit, even to his mother, that he gave a damn about what anyone thought, even if that person was his best friend. "He should have come to me, first. When Dad got sick, I talked it out with Sirius. When I realized I--I tell him everything, and if he's my best friend, he should have asked me for help, first."
His mother was giving him a teary look, blinking rapidly, but smiling at the same time. "What?" he demanded, irritated at this display. She was supposed to comfort him, take his side, and help him figure this out! Not...sit there tearing up like that.
She grabbed him in a bone-crunching embrace, the tears flowing freely. "I'm proud of you, Severus. I never thought you'd dare admit caring about other people, or that you'd ever let anybody help you. I'm just...happy that you've the sense to have someone like Sirius in your life." She pushed him to arm's length, and gave him a sloppy smile. "And I think Sirius is a better friend than you think. I think he didn't want to burden us, kitten. I think he knew you'd take him in without a second thought, and knew it wouldn't be good for you." She released her son, and, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, started for the kitchen. "You should thank whoever you were in your past life, Severus, for earning you someone like that." Then she paused, and turned about to face her son one last time. "And kitten, don't let anything ruin this for you. Good friends are hard to come by."
Severus dreamt. He had never taken much stock in Divinations. He left that sort of thing to Peter Pettigrew, who was quite good at divining simple things like where he'd left his socks, and Sibyll Trelawney, who was prone to predicting people's horrible, violent deaths. She'd been insisting for the past year and a half that the Grim stalked Severus.
Of course, this was technically true, as Padfoot had an aggravating habit of spending most of their nights in the Forbidden Forest trying to catch Nightcat by surprise.
But he had been 13, and sneaking about the Library after dark (unlike Black, who took delight in breaking all rules, Severus came to the Library at night because it was the only time he could get reading done in quiet), when he'd heard a strange noise in the Restricted Section. He'd learned how to bypass the locks on the door in his second year (finding most of the Potions materials in the main library too juvenile to be of any use), so in the interests of making sure he wasn't being watched by some holier-than-thou Gryffindor, he'd slipped past the locked gates to the odd little nook that contained the most powerful and dangerous books on Divination. There, seated on a large squashy chair of the ugliest color Severus had ever seen, was a man.
He did not look like a wizard, and Severus strongly suspected he would object to being called such. The man was dressed in a brown robe, with a hood that draped over his eyes. The man didn't seem to mind, however, because his attention was focused solely on the tome he held in his lap.
It was not like any other book Severus had seen. He knew it was not a Muggle book, but the way it twisted the light around it, he also knew its magic was not that of Wizard books, either.
He wondered, briefly, if this man was a Sorcerer. Their magic, born of the blood and stone, was rare, incomprehensible, and usually heralded times of great upheaval.
But, while the man carried an air of always being on the verge of turning a corner, he did not fit the typical description of a sorcerer.
Except for the fact that he obviously was not, the man seemed to be very mundane.
So Severus dreamed of this memory, of the man in the Library, and his book, which held more fascination than even the deepest secrets locked away in the grimoires of wizards. This man had taught him how to speak to the books, how to navigate and appease them, and other secrets of the ways of knowledge. Sometimes, Severus thought it had all been a dream...but first, what was the difference, when you walked in silence among tomes of magic? And second, Severus had found the Library spoke to him, giving him what he needed, rather than what he wanted, guiding his footsteps amongst the shelves, and sending him even to the most secret tomes it protected.
The man looked up. "Hello, Severus Snape."
"Hello, sir." Severus found it practical to be polite to someone who was an unknown factor, and this man had never volunteered any information. The man tilted his head, as if examining Severus.
"I find it difficult, to read who you are, Severus Snape. Are you the boy, or the man? Have you yet fallen from grace, and lost all you held dear? Or been redeemed? Or have you yet dared the forbidden, that against which I warned you? I cannot tell, for at this moment, you are all of these men, and none of them. Tell me who you are, Severus."
Severus gulped. "My father has died, and my best friend disowned by his family. I have not yet begun my last year at Hogwarts." The man chuckled.
"Yes, I remember. The scars of this year never fully faded..." He lowered his head, returning to his book. "Tell me, Severus, do you think that love is forever?"
"W-what?"
"There is no word to describe what you feel for Sirius Black. Brother, perhaps, comes close, or aibou. But do you believe these bonds are eternal, unbreakable? Or are they transitory things, like cobwebs in summer? Or is it all an illusion, to blind us to the intolerable cruelty of the world?"
Severus fell to his knees, shuddering and shivering with his whole body. "Why are you talking like this? Sirius is--"
"A man, nothing more. Perhaps the only love you will ever have in your life. Someday, I believe he may be your direst enemy. But what of this love? What is it?"
"Stop it," Severus whimpered, trying to block out the man's words. "Stop it..."
The man leaned close, his voice low and whispering, sounding like rustling paper. "I will share a secret with you, Severus Snape. Love is nothing more than a random firing of certain neuro-chemicals in our brains, putting the mind in an altered state; it is no different than a drug-induced haze, through which one may see the world. And this dream is no more than a random collection of subconscious fears and obsessions coming to the surface while your conscious mind is weakened. And somehow, knowing that will not make you feel any better."
While the rest of the Beauxbatons students were leaving on the regular train, the seventh-year students stood around, waiting for the Three PM train to Hogwarts. It was meant to give them an opportunity to get used to the idea of Hogwarts without being directly exposed to the students of the British institution.
Madam Maxime had very definite ideas of what to expect from a British school, and she wanted her students to be prepared. There were pamphlets for the girls, which were supposed to warn them against the immoralities of British boys, which had only, Remus suspected, given them ideas, if Yvonne and Solange were any sample from which to base an assumption.
"It says here that if a boy asks us to meet him in the Library or behind the greenhouses, it means he wants to snog, and if he asks us to the Astronomy Tower, it means he's hoping we'll put out." Solange pursed her lips, concentrating on the paper she held. "It doesn't say anything about what a girl's supposed to do if she wants a boy to put out."
Yvonne peered over Solange's shoulder, scanning the page. "We're probably not supposed to do that sort of thing; I bet the boys expect us to be naive girls who have no idea that 'show you something in the Library' means 'let me put my hand down your skirt'. Does she say what you're supposed to do if you can't enter a room without causing every male present to experience a burning desire to father your children? I somehow feel that might be more helpful to you, Solange."
"No, but there's something here about a burning sensation when you--"
"Will you two please stop?" Remus pleaded. His ears and cheeks were a deep scarlet, and his hair, unbound, hung across his eyes. If only no one looked over here, he could maintain his dignity. He hadn't been this embarrassed since the 'birds and the bees' discussion they'd had with him fourth year, when they had taken brief detours to give a very detailed explanation of the birds' portion, and a long, wistful portion on the bees and the bees. It was slightly worrying to know that if a bloke was to take it into his head to pursue Remus, he at least had enough theoretical bases to not embarrass himself completely.
He'd tried to enforce a 'no sex talk around Moony' rule, but he didn't have the heart to actually fight them on the point, and suspected it went against some natural order for a boy to actually get his two best female friends to listen to him.
Besides, with Solange in the room, it was nearly impossible for other people to think about much else than sex. Remus was given to understand most of the male faculty at Beauxbatons had been given a counter-pheromone by the Potions Master, but despite her best efforts, Solange radiated a low-level aura of lust at all times. Remus was used to it, and once he'd gotten past the beginning of puberty and had some embarrassingly frank talks with his father, had learned to deal with it. It wasn't as if he'd really like to snog her; she just, as Moony had noticed upon meeting her, smelled heavenly.
"Would you rather us talk about what you're going to get up to while we're there?" Yvonne asked, all innocent curiosity and wearing a somber, passionless expression. "You know, my cousin went to Hogwarts. He said you live in one room with the same boys for seven years." Her eyes glittered dangerously. Remus could see the edges of her mouth twitch up, and he wondered what he'd done to deserve this.
"I'm not going to help you satisfy your curiosity about homosexuality," Remus said darkly.
Solange placed a hand over her heart, eyes widening to take a scandalized expression. "Remus! Really! To even suggest we would think a thing like that! I am sure Yvonne was only commenting upon how crowded Hogwarts must be."
"It must be impossible to find a moment of privacy," the dark-haired girl commented, no trace of double meanings in her voice or face.
"They must be terribly wound up," Solange said dreamily. "Desperate for satisfaction..." Her face suddenly split in a terrific grin. "I can't wait. Except, apparently their social events are rather sparse. We're going to have to fix that. How're your decorating charms, Moony?"
"After all the practice you two gave me last year?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in a deliberately provocative manner. "I'm not entirely certain I've gotten the hang of it. Pea-green and salmon would be an excellent color scheme, don't you think?"
"You...you boy!" Solange snapped, slapping the back of Remus' head. He felt a slight tingle in the back of his mind as the wolf awoke and made a mental note to cuff Redtail, Solange's vulpine counterpart, the next time they snuck from the castle to explore, play, and generally make nuisances of themselves. Moony, after all, was the alpha of the pack, and female or not, Redtail did not get away with treating him like she could bat him around. "You're just afraid to admit you know what seafoam green looks like. That's the trouble with boys, Yvonne; they'd do anything to keep from looking like nancys."
Yvonne rolled her eyes. "As long as doesn't ruin any event I try to run, I don't care if he insists on snogging Madam Maxime on top of a dinner table." There was a long pause as the three teenagers tried to picture this, and failing miserably to actually imagine Remus kissing the headmistress of Beauxbatons--not that she wasn't, in her own way, attractive, but merely that Remus couldn't reach that high.
"Come on now, my darlings, the train's leaving in a few minutes!" The call from the woman in question startled them back to reality, and Remus, leading the trio in as much an effort to get away from Madam Maxime (whom he doubted he could ever look at the same way again) as to get to Hogwarts sooner, hurried to the back cars, tugging his belongings after him on squeaking wheels.
The three had barely gotten themselves settled into an unoccupied compartment at the very rear car before the train shifted, letting out a sharp whistle as it began to move.
Remus was nearly vibrating in his seat. Even since he'd gotten the letter from Madam Maxime, he'd been terribly excited. It wasn't so much about the Triwizard Tournament--he could do without it. Something inside him resonated at the thought of going to Hogwarts. Of course, he loved Beauxbatons, loved the grand, unbreakable crystal staircase, and his bedroom, with its bed large enough to sleep three and window overlooking the forest. But Hogwarts was something else. Hogwarts was the first of them all, the place where the greats had been taught. There were secret passages, and dozens of ghosts (Beauxbatons had only five, and four of them preferred to spend the day sleeping than haunting anything), and countless stories of magical artifacts and priceless knowledge secreted away within its halls. Remus knew Albus Dumbledore was one of three headmasters who would have welcomed him to his school, knowing Remus was a werewolf, and that made him inclined to like the idea of the school, even if his mother thought to this day that Dumbledore was no better than the rest of the world, seeing her son as a freak and a danger to be tolerated.
He could feel it in his blood that going to Hogwarts would change his life.
So as the train barreled on, Remus smiled, feeling that he was being brought closer to a significant piece of his own destiny.
"Come on, Peter, let's see it." Peter rolled his eyes, and flipped the first card. He rapidly filled in the rest of the pattern, setting what was, to James, an incomprehensible mash of people doing foolish and meaningless things. James squinted at them, but they refused to give up their meaning to him. Peter, however, was staring at the Tarot cards, eyes half-focused, as if he wasn't really looking at the cards, but something beyond them.
"Well? Am I going to be the Triwizard Champion?" James demanded.
Peter let out a long sigh; then he shook his head. "Nope. Doesn't say anything about you facing great trials."
"What about me breezing through simple trials? Have you considered that I may be so good, the trials will be easy?"
Peter continued to shake his head, laughing. "No, James. You're not going to be the Hogwarts Champion. However, the cards do say you'll finally get laid this year."
There was a long, silent pause, and then James grabbed the other boy by the front of his robes. "Are you joking? You're kidding, right? I don't see that anywhere!" Peter rolled his eyes; of course The Lovers wasn't present.
"I may have exaggerated a bit, James. You're right; The Lovers would tend to indicate a sexual encounter. But this pair here--The World and the Queen of Wands--indicates accomplishment with regards to a red-haired woman..." Peter trailed off, giving James a wide grin. Then he plunged back into one of the few things he did better than James Potter. "Plus, this--the Knight of Cups--is obviously you. It represents hazel eyes, and...Well, we'll just say he's you."
"YES!" James clapped Peter on the back. "I knew your hobby would come in handy someday, Pete! Ha! I can just imagine it: Lily is seated at the table, and I walk up to her, and say, 'Miss Evans, I have it on good authority that you and I are destined to be together.' Let's hear her argue with that!"
"Given that she thinks Divination is a waste of time, energy, and tea, I'm thinking that argument won't go over so well. If you will recall, Mr. Potter, March 13, 1974." Sirius Black stepped into the compartment, stepping over Peter's Tarot. "A young, inexperienced James Potter had just learned of the applications of astronomy to Divinations, and thus, asked of Ms. Lily Evans, a single question, that will remain a part of Hogwarts history forever. And I quote: 'Hey, darling, what's your sign?'"
The two other boys winced, James reddening at the memory. "'S not like I knew it was a Muggle pick-up line. She didn't have to do what she did."
Lily Evans had made it abundantly clear what sign she was when she had turned a glance to James Potter, and turned him bright red, Transfiguring his hands into claws for good measure. It had been a brilliant piece of spellwork, and McGonagall had taken five points from Gryffindor for the disruption, only to give Lily ten for advanced Transfiguration.
"So you see, my friend, it will not be as easy as taking Ms. Evans' hand and declaring your undying love. Certainly, the cards expect you to do most of the work."
Peter nodded, and James growled, "Bastards," throwing himself unceremoniously into his seat.
Severus had paused at the edge of the door when Sirius had stuck his head into James and Peter's conversation, and had almost stepped in after him. But then he'd realized that the boys were laughing and chatting without him, and they were perfectly happy without him, so he'd slipped away, returning to the compartment in which his and Sirius' things were. He sat himself down and found his copy of Le Morte D'Arthur and began reading.
Of course it had begun now, when Sirius was beginning to realize they were growing up. He understood, of course, that Sirius was not going to devote every moment of his life to Severus, and had admitted to himself occasionally that Sirius would have other friends in his life. And he got along well enough with James Potter. They were not, by any means, good friends, but he felt comfortable asking James for favors, and was willing to help James or Peter, if they needed it.
But he had always felt a little feeling that if it weren't for Severus, Sirius would be best friends with James, and now that they were living under the same roof, it was like Destiny telling him quite clearly that the sort of happiness afforded to a person who had people who loved him was not the fate meant for Severus Snape.
Because Sirius and James could pull pranks, and laugh together, and Severus was quiet and dour and would rather read than play Quidditch, Severus had always assumed it would only be a matter of time before Sirius Black realized there were better friends than Severus Snape.
As usual when it came to Sirius Black, however, Severus Snape couldn't be more wrong.
He'd barely gotten through Nicolas Flamel's Preface when Sirius appeared at the door, looking peeved, worried, and apologetic at the same time. "Why'd you vanish like that? Are you all right? You could have told me if you wanted to wander off, you know. I'd've come with you."
"It's all right; you were having fun with James." Severus didn't tend to make sharp remarks like that at Sirius, and it must have said something about his state of mind that the acid in his voice was plain.
Sirius' eyes sort of went watery at that statement, and he sat down next to Severus. "Severus, I'd like to tell you something. When I first got on the Hogwarts train, I was terrified. I was going to by a Slytherin; my mum and dad and Bellatrix and Grandpa and everyone said I was. And I knew Slytherins were horrible people without an ounce of common decency, and that it meant I'd be miserable at Hogwarts because I liked people. Except my family, of course. But then I found a kid who wanted to be a Slytherin and seemed like a decent bloke. I figured if we didn't stick together, neither of us would get out of this place without giving up something important."
He took a deep breath. "And Severus, you've been the best friend I ever could have asked for. You're not good with feelings, and I know you don't like talking, but that's all right because I talk enough for two anyway."
"You talk enough for all of Slytherin combined," Severus muttered, eliciting a laugh from Sirius.
"And you see? You're funny, or at least I think you're funny because you don't mean half of the stuff you say. And...I knew you would have taken me in, Severus. But I couldn't--I know it would have been a burden, and don't tell me it wouldn't have been. So...I didn't really have anywhere else to go. I guess I'm lucky Mr. Potter thought to go look for me. But just because his dad's let me stay with him doesn't mean Potter's my best friend. For Merlin's sake, he's a Gryffindor! You, Severus, are my best friend. And I'm serious."
Severus thought about that for a second, and then shot his friend a dark glare.
"Sorry," Sirius said, not looking the least remorseful for the pun. "But it's going to take more than Mrs. Potter's cooking to come between you and me." He slung a friendly arm over Severus' shoulder, leaning against the other boy. "I almost wish..." Severus strained to hear, and then was certain he was mistaken. Sirius couldn't mean it. But he let Sirius sit with him for a while, before he pushed away, carefully folding his book and putting it back in his satchel, in which Severus carried nearly everything he thought he could need during the course of a day.
"Besides," Sirius added, "Who'd protect your honor if I weren't around?"
Severus sputtered, dropping his bag. "Honor?"
"Yeah." Sirius sprawled over his half of the seat, looking inordinately smug. "There's going to be a whole load of new kids at school this year, and, well, those French kids can be terrible sluts. I wouldn't want you getting hurt."
Severus laughed. "You're such a girl, Sirius." Sirius flushed, glaring at his friend. "But I appreciate the thought. However, Sirius Black, I can take care of myself."
"Fine. But remember: if you ever need some ungrateful bloke throttled, I'll be ready and waiting." The flash in Sirius' eyes was both frightening and comforting; Severus had not seen that dangerous glint before, and yet, it was warming to know the other boy would beat someone up for him. Of course, he'd beaten up James Potter once or twice for Severus, but that was different somehow. This was...Sirius caring about what happened to Severus.
'But...is this for real? Or just a passing illusion?'
The train carried them to Hogsmeade, and then the carriages brought them to the castle. Sirius saw signs of unusual activity around the castle, unfamiliar wizards, probably from the Ministry, walking around making notes. He saw Professor Cizana standing by a familiar patch of ground, where a distinctly unfamiliar tree stood. Its branches waved gently in the breeze, occasionally flicking out to strike at Professor Cizana, who dodged nimbly out of the way.
"That's a Whomping Willow," Peter whispered in awe. "They're very rare..."
"Wait a minute--isn't that planted over the passage to Hogsmeade?" James demanded.
"Bloody hell!" Sirius snapped. "Do they find some perverse pleasure in denying us access to town?"
"I would assume this is a tactic to keep students from going to Hogsmeade unaccompanied, yes," Severus said in a neutral tone of voice. "Look, we'll just find another way, if you're so upset by it."
James nodded, a little sullenly, and Severus realized he was upset that the secret passage he had found was now useless. Lily Evans was right; James was a bit of a prat. He hoped James figured that out before she decided she found someone she liked better, only because James would be insufferable if Lily found someone better than him.
The rest of the carriage ride was uneventful, and silent, so when they arrived at the Great Hall and split up to their respective tables, Sirius was bristling for conversation.
"When do you think the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will get here?"
"I'm sure I don't know," Severus replied smoothly. "Certainly by the end of the first week." But Sirius would not be deterred by Severus' attempt to limit conversation.
"You think they'll be all right? 'Cause I know Durmstrang is famous for teaching Dark Arts, and my m--I know some people think Beauxbatons makes kids stuck up. But they're our age; they can't be too bad."
Severus rolled his eyes. "The women will be swept off their feet by your charm, and there won't be a man among them who wouldn't want to throw back a Butterbeer with you in Hogsmeade."
Sirius didn't speak for a moment, and then said, accusingly, "You're making fun of me."
"Wouldn't dream of making fun of a Black, Sirius."
"You are. You're sitting next to me, nice as you please, making fun of me. I'm hurt, Severus. Truly hurt."
"Shut up, you two," Evan Rosier snapped from across the table. "It's bad enough you consort with Gryffindors without flirting over there."
Severus flushed, and Sirius glared, reaching for his wand. But then Dumbledore, at the Head Table, stood, raising his hands for silence. "Welcome, welcome everyone to Hogwarts. I know we're all excited for another year within these halls, but let us first welcome our new students." The doors opened, admitting the new students, led of course by Professor McGonagall.
Sirius watched with only half-interest, noting that there seemed to be little hope for the Slytherin first-years. Sycophants and pure-blood sheep, the lot of them. He wondered if there was such a thing as real ambition anymore.
After the Sorting, Dumbledore again commanded silence, and looked down upon his charges.
"Now, I know you are all eager to begin the lovely meal the House-Elves have prepared for us, but first, there are several announcements I must make. The first is that this year, as those students old enough to participate have been made aware, Hogwarts is pleased to host for the first time in many years, the Triwizard Tournament. As a result, students from Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang will be attending classes at Hogwarts as their eldest students come to participate. I must implore that each of you endeavor to treat our guests with respect, and to remember that the rivalry of the schools is that of friendly competition, so you should not feel compelled to dislike them."
"Finally, I must ask that students avoid the Whomping Willow so recently planted on the school grounds; it reacts on instinct, and will not hesitate to flatten the unwary. Now, one final thing. While the representatives from Durmstrang will be arriving tomorrow, the students from Beauxbatons have already arrived. So please allow me to introduce to you Madam Maxime and her pupils."
A large woman, nearly the size of Hagrid, entered through the doors of the Main Hall, followed by approximately a dozen students dressed in blue and silver silk robes. They were talking amongst themselves, but slowly trailed off at the sight of the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling and the assembled students of Hogwarts.
Sirius' breath caught when his gaze fell on one of the students. She was taller than average, though shorter than the boy and girl walking with her, and while was not well-endowed, carried an indefinable aura of attractiveness about her. Her lips, a pale, almost luminescent pink, were curved up in a smile, and green eyes sparkled with amusement. A waist-length braid hung across her left shoulder, and her delicate, feminine features were passive. Next to Sirius, Severus' mouth had dropped open. Sirius grinned, and nudged his friend in the ribs.
"Ha; so even you can appreciate real beauty in a woman, eh, Snape?"
"What?" Severus asked, dazed. "I wasn't looking at her," he said, scornfully. "Look next to her." Sirius glanced at the girl's companions. One, a very tall, pale-skinned, black-haired woman with sharp blue eyes and hair woven behind her, placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, and leaned in to whisper to her. The other one--
Well, it made more sense. The teen was nearly taller than the black-haired woman, but was slenderer. He had warm golden eyes, and a gold-brown head of hair that draped to his shoulderblades. Sirius gave Severus a smirk.
"What did I say about those French boys, Severus? Heartbreakers, every one." Severus didn't respond to Sirius' jab, entranced by the boy standing at the front of the Hall.
Author's Notes: This story keeps doing things I didn't expect. To be honest, I sort of wanted Severus to have encountered a Librarian, but chickened out and put in a generic sort of Destiny. I also didn't mean to be so cruel to him, except that it's hard to write something in which Severus has a normal, well-adjusted childhood.
I really didn't expect the yelling at Ara Black (whose name means 'The Altar', another constellation fitting of the Black name) or the Tapestry.
To the reviewers:
Bhangra Santa-Thanks; I'm following the timelines given at The Harry Potter Lexicon, so 1977-1978 will be their seventh year at school.
embersandenvelopes-'Smiles sweetly'; I'm not telling. But you can probably guess at least part of what's going on from this part.
Tsuki no Lomelinde-Thanks for the compliment.
satin insanity-Again, I'm not telling. But stick around, please, and find out.
Boredom is my middle name-Sorry there's less Remus in this chapter, but I'll try to fit in more next time. I'm beginning to think I need a third 'main character' option, because of how Severus is sneaking in to steal parts of the show. But next chapter, we'll definitely
dancing in daydreams-Glad to see you like it. I'm a little embarrassed to realize how much I've been putting in chapters, and hope this was a little better.