It was literally months before anything happened that Severus could use to justify a general program of combat training. Oddly enough, when it finally did – the Lestranges attacked Catherine Clare at Hogsmeade – he had to use the wolf to get her to agree to participate. Severus couldn't quite figure out how Lupin managed to get her to do what he wanted, but it was a skill Severus was perfectly willing to take advantage of to keep a little more blood off his hands.
"It's about time!" Severus griped at the Headmaster when he saw him alone afterwards.
"I said I would let you start a general program of training when something happened to justify it, and I have," Dumbledore pointed out equably. "I really have no desire to see anything happen to Catherine – or to any of the other members of the Order. It was quite a good suggestion, as long as it could be implemented without compromising the timeline."
"I'm very pleased that Remus has offered to lead a group as well," the Headmaster continued. "Some of the others, like Molly, will benefit from his coaching." Dumbledore sighed, and Severus could hear the criticism in the silence.
If the other members of the Order want to risk their necks spending time with the wolf, that's one thing, he thought rebelliously. Putting him in the school – and in the DADA position when he's a dark creature himself – is quite another! He wasn't sorry he'd let Lupin's real nature slip – well, maybe a little sorry that Dumbledore wasn't more supportive, but then he should never have put him in that position in the first place. And even if Pettigrew were the real traitor rather than Black, well, the wolf had been friends with both of them.
"The knowledge he holds of the events of last fall is growing more dangerous every day," Severus pointed out coolly instead. "If you're really concerned about protecting the timeline, the sensible thing to do is to eliminate his memories of her visit entirely." The Headmaster frowned.
"I don't like to Obliviate people unnecessarily."
"For Merlin's sake, Lupin's feelings for her couldn't be more obvious if he were wearing a sign around his neck!" Severus expostulated.
"Apparently not everyone is as perceptive as you are." Dumbledore had a faint twinkle in his eyes that was a welcome change from his obvious regret at losing Lupin as an instructor.
"I can't believe Molly is actually trying to set him up with Tonks," Severus said, rolling his eyes. "Any fool could see he isn't even slightly interested in her, and Molly is totally oblivious to the fact that all Lupin does think about is riding off into the sunset with Catherine Clare. Probably headed for a rose-covered cottage with a white-washed fence around the garden where they can raise a pack of squalling brats together!" He glared at Dumbledore, "And you expect him to kindly keep his mouth shut and stand by and say nothing while she heads off to get killed. Even I'm not happy about it, and I'm not in love with her!"
"I told you that I've taken care of things with Remus, and we don't know that Catherine will be killed," Dumbledore repeated with an air of patient finality. "My American contacts have given her a very good report, and you've had an opportunity to observe her combat skills yourself."
"I already admitted that she wasn't bad," he replied grudgingly. Okay, he conceded silently, she was one of the best fighters in the Order, in a class with himself and Moody, much as it pained him to admit it – even to himself. "Although she doesn't take direction very well."
Her willingness to disregard his orders was really irritating.
"Yes, I noticed that she has a certain amount of confidence in her own skill and judgment," the Headmaster said with deceptive blandness. "Most professionals do in their areas of expertise."
"And speaking of areas of expertise," Dumbledore continued adroitly, "how is Molly coming along?"
"Not badly," Severus conceded. "Better than I expected actually. However much talent she may have had to begin with, I didn't expect much knowing she's spent years doing nothing other than a little housework. But she wasn't as rusty as I thought she would be, and at least she takes instruction. She's been doing fairly well with the healing potions, which I would be relieved not to have to brew myself all the time."
"I expect she may have had more practice over the years than you assumed, Severus." The Headmaster chuckled, and added, "Remember that all that time she's been living with Fred and George!"
----------------
Maggie had agreed to the baby-sitting proposal so eagerly that Adrienne's concern that she might be taking advantage of her disappeared immediately. I guess it's been so long since I had a husband to spend time with that I forgot how important it was. Wilcox's sentencing earlier in the summer had brought some finality to the part of her life that had Bobby as its primary focus. When she returned to her potions research, it was with a renewed sense of purpose.
Adrienne was surprised to discover – or perhaps remember – how much she enjoyed her work. Her particular specialty, inhalation potions, was so esoteric that she really had an opportunity to do something noteworthy.
Admittedly, there was a bit of ego involved there.
It was very satisfying to be the person who made a discovery, or created a new potion or process, to be able to point to something and say I did that. Perhaps that was part of the reason it had been so hard to make the kind of progress she wanted to since she lost Bobby – the children had needed her much more than usual, and she simply couldn't set their needs aside to shut herself up in a laboratory.
Now enough time had passed to allow all of them to adjust to a new "normal" – a life without him – if not entirely, at least enough so that Adrienne didn't need to feel guilty about spending some part of the school day in her laboratory. Grace was perfectly happy at the Clares, and got along well with Annabel. Maggie had confided once that it was almost easier to have Grace there than not, as the girls played with each other and made it easier for Maggie to tend to the baby. The boys were not affected by the different arrangements during the school week; the only change was that occasionally Annabel and the baby joined them for a while over the weekend, which didn't seem to bother them.
And Adrienne was starting to feel like a person again, rather than just a "widow with three children."
When she went to pick up Grace that afternoon, she did so with the satisfaction of knowing that now there was at least a decent chance she would be able to submit an abstract in time for the potions conference in December after all.
"Mommy!" Grace greeted her enthusiastically as she stepped out of the fireplace into Maggie's spacious kitchen. "I waited and waited for you to come!"
Obedient to the upstretched arms, Adrienne reached down and hoisted her daughter up. She's really getting heavy. I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to carry her around, she acknowledged with a pang.
"Well, now I'm here, and I'm very happy to see you. Did you have a good day?" Behind her, Adrienne could see Maggie look at her in a combination of apology and warning. It was instantly recognizable to another mother as Sorry, I didn't mean to do this to you, but tread carefully.
"He's wonderful, Mommy," Grace informed her, squirming with pleasure and eagerness to get down again. "You haf to come and meet him."
"And whom do I 'haf' to come and meet," Adrienne teased, setting her down and accepting the hand that reached up to tug her in the right direction.
"He doesn't have a name yet," Grace told her importantly. "Annabel says she's waiting for him to tell her what it is."
Adrienne turned back to question Maggie with a glance as Grace paused to open the door to the back yard, and Maggie mouthed Puppy to her silently out of Grace's sight. Oh, well, it could be worse, Adrienne decided philosophically.
Adrienne admired the puppy – an all-white offspring of Lempkin – and agreed that he was indeed wonderful while diplomatically avoiding a final decision on Grace's request to get one just like him. Fortunately, she didn't seem to need to push the issue very hard.
"And it wouldn't be much fun for him to be home alone while you're over here playing with this puppy," Adrienne concluded.
Grace considered this.
"He could play with you while I'm gone," she suggested.
"If he played in the laboratory, he might get hurt, and you wouldn't want that." Grace frowned at this, but the puppy nipped playfully at her fingers, which distracted her and caused her to giggle. "You can play with the puppy a little longer while I run inside and have a word with Mrs. Clare," Adrienne told her daughter, "then we have to leave and pick up the boys."
Adrienne returned to Maggie's capacious kitchen, closed the door to the back yard behind her, and grinned at her. "So, you've suddenly acquired a puppy?" she observed.
Maggie cast another very expressive look at her before cracking open the oven to quickly assess the progress of whatever she was making for supper. "Not my idea, but Michael thought the puppy was a better risk than the alternative." Adrienne quirked a brow at her in inquiry. "Annabel decided to pop into the fireplace and just head over to Catherine's to ask for one."
Adrienne felt that sympathetic maternal panic that one mother always felt hearing news like that. Tristan knew how to use the Floo – actually, he had since he was younger than Grace was now – but that was only because Bobby had insisted on it as a security measure for specific emergencies. Adrienne hadn't taught the younger children after his death. With Bobby's job no longer a factor, she thought that the risks to them were greater if they thought it was something they could do.
"Where did she end up?" she asked weakly. "I take it she was all right?"
"Stone House," Maggie said gruffly, not quite concealing her pride as she named a location on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.
"Good god!"
Maggie nodded. "So, Annabel got a fairly mild lecture on not leaving the house without permission, and the puppy she asked for. Michael thought it was better not to make too big a deal about it," she explained, "but we did add some child-proofing to the fireplace. It won't allow anyone out unless at least one of the travelers holds an Apparition License or we've de-activated the ward."
"That seems like a good idea." She was more relieved than ever that Garrett and Grace didn't think they knew how to Floo.
----------------
Severus stepped out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place looking forward to spending some time relaxing with Emmeline after a rather difficult meeting with The Dark Lord.
Death Eaters had attacked Stone House, Catherine Clare's home which was also the present location of Harry Potter. Severus had been part of the team fighting against the Death Eaters, which was really not the sort of thing they appreciated. Although The Dark Lord supported his work with the Order – Severus had managed to convince him that Severus' true allegiance was exactly where it was not – he could hardly be pleased with events that had resulted in the arrest of three of his followers.
Still, with any luck, Severus may have managed to turn this to his advantage. He hadn't known about the prospective attack – which rather worried him – but he had pointed out that because he hadn't known about it, he had not been sure that it was a move sanctioned by The Dark Lord himself, or that it was worth risking his "cover" over. Whereas, if he had known about it, he would not only have absented himself to lower the defensive strength but might also have been able to assist in some way – very discreetly, of course. It was a fairly subtle way to encourage The Dark Lord to ensure that Severus was kept better informed, although Rookwood, who was most responsible for the debacle among those who had at least returned, was not going to be feeling very friendly toward Severus at the moment.
Also, the reasons for the attack still bothered him. Although taking over a defensible base closer to Hogwarts and Harry Potter had been mentioned, there had been that troubling bit about Catherine Clare that he wasn't meant to overhear, on top of the looks exchanged between Rodolphus Lestrange and Rookwood.
I really need to talk to Avery again –
"Severus," Emmeline greeted him, tripping lightly down the stairs to meet him in the hall. As usual, she managed to look lovely, despite her long confinement in this rather depressing house. "How are you?" Her eyes swept him quickly to see if he'd brought her anything – which he hadn't – and he felt rather guilty for the omission even though she didn't say anything.
I could at least have brought her another one of those stupid novels.
Unwilling to be caught purchasing them again, Severus had ordered the rest of the lot shipped to the school all at once. He had toyed with the idea of buying them from somewhere else where he was less well known than Magnus' shop in Hogsmeade, but he rather owed the man for helping him avoid Sybill and at least he could rely on him to be discreet. He usually just took another one from the box safely hidden in his quarters when he was coming to visit Emmeline, but he hadn't stopped by the school en route.
"I'm sorry I didn't think to bring you anything new to read," he apologized. "I'm afraid I didn't get the chance to pick something up."
"That's all right. I can just keep re-reading what I have," she told him in a way that made him feel guiltier than ever. She was stuck all alone in this huge house with nothing to do, and he couldn't be bothered to take a few extra minutes to stop by his chambers on her behalf! He'd been too preoccupied with his own desire to spend time with her to even consider her feelings.
"I really am sorry," he repeated. "I'll bring you two next time, I promise." Emmeline rewarded him with a dazzling smile. She really has the most amazing eyes!
"Would you like to play a game with me instead?" she suggested brightly.
"Of course," he agreed immediately. "Whatever you like."
"How about a few hands of Exploding Snap?" she suggested, and he nodded amiably, skillfully keeping his real feelings from becoming apparent.
The truth was that he found that game – which for some inexplicable reason seemed to be the only one Emmeline really enjoyed – indescribably boring. If they had to play a game, he would much have preferred something a little more challenging, like chess or Tournament, although he really wasn't much in the mood for either at the moment. What he actually wanted was to relax a bit, maybe with some interesting conversation and perhaps a good cognac.
But Emmeline didn't like cognac – she seemed to prefer the sweeter white wines – and she enjoyed herself so much playing Exploding Snap that it would have been rude to try to force her to attend to a conversation of any substance.
So when she tucked her hand under his arm and smiled up at him again, he reminded himself that he was really very lucky. He didn't have that much experience with serious relationships, which surely required a little compromise. Mature adults certainly didn't expect to get their own way all the time, and he didn't want to be selfish. Obviously, the important thing was that Emmeline would be happy.
After all, Severus knew he was madly in love with her.
And she was very beautiful.
--------------
Adrienne was actually in the laboratory when she received the owl addressed to her and the kids, each of their names listed in order below hers in graceful script. At the time, she felt only mild curiosity about the contents. She opened the parchment and read, "The honour of your presence is requested at the marriage of Miss Catherine Miranda Clare to Mr. Remus John Lupin on Saturday, the –" before her brain absorbed what she had read and shuddered to a halt.
Catherine was getting married? On Saturday? And who was Remus Lupin?
After a frozen moment, she strode over to the fireplace and summoned Maggie with a handful of Floo powder. Catherine's dark-haired sister-in-law appeared in the flames a few moments later.
"Adrienne, I thought I'd be hearing from you," she greeted her. "You got it?"
"An invitation to Catherine's wedding?" Maggie nodded. "Is it really this Saturday? And who on earth is –" she blanked on the name for a moment and had to check the parchment again – "Remus John Lupin?"
"It really is this Saturday," Maggie confirmed, "and don't overlook the part at the bottom about portkeys because you won't be able to Floo in. As for her fiancé, I haven't even met him yet." Adrienne's eyes widened.
"Is everything all right?"
"Well, Michael thinks so, and he's met him."
"Why the rush to the altar then?" Now that she thought about it, she remembered that Catherine was a fairly wealthy woman. As Catherine had lived on her salary, she tended to forget that there was family money somewhere in the background. Adrienne had always considered the younger woman an excellent judge of character, but even the shrewdest people could lose their heads at times.
Maggie made an expressive face. "You know how Catherine is about stuff like that. If she's made up her mind to marry him, she'll do it quickly, and with a minimum of fuss, and never mind how it looks to anyone else. I suppose I should be thankful that she's willing to have anyone at the ceremony other than the witnesses, but honestly!"
"You're right about that," Adrienne agreed, getting over some of the shock and turning the idea over in her mind. "Has she known him long?" Maggie shrugged, looking rather exasperated.
"Michael didn't say. I don't think he even asked," she complained. "You'd think he'd ask a few more questions considering that the man's marrying his only sister in a few days, but he doesn't seem to know anything. All he says is that he likes him and thinks it's a good match. Michael was over there a lot when Catherine was missing and said the poor man was a wreck."
"Catherine was missing?"
"Yes, but there's no point in asking where she was or why she was missing because no one will say," Maggie sighed. "Anyway, they must have gotten engaged right away, because Michael tells me that she's back safely, and then suddenly we're getting a wedding invitation. For this week! Michael seems to think that's perfectly normal, as if it were normal for anyone other than a Clare."
"They do go their own way, don't they?" Adrienne agreed, her mind busy processing what Maggie had told her. "Well, I suppose we'll see what he's like on Saturday. Any ideas for a wedding present?" Maggie groaned again in response. "Well, thanks anyway," she finished, and Maggie rolled her eyes before disappearing in the flames.
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Adrienne finished dressing on Saturday morning and surveyed her image. Not bad for someone less than a year away from forty, she decided. She didn't get out to the shops much, that was true, but she had never forgotten the lessons of her practical French mother who taught her the difference between mere fashion and true style. Accordingly, she had invested in quality pieces that looked good on her. The one she had on was of fine wool in a rich claret color that showed just the right amount of décolletage. She started to slick on the matching lipstick when she was summoned.
"Mo - om!"
"Yes, Garrett?"
"What do I wear if I can't wear my blue shirt?"
"Why can't you wear your blue shirt?"
Silence.
"Garrett?"
"Yes?"
"Why can't you wear your blue shirt?"
"We - ell, something might have got spilled on it."
"What?"
"Dunno."
Oh, lord, not now. Adrienne marched into the boys' room and found what she expected. Tristan was already neatly dressed, with his bed made and his half of the room straight. Garrett, who was wearing only yesterday's underwear, was surrounded by most of the contents of both the bureau and his toy chest while trying to look innocent in a way that would only have fooled someone younger than he was.
"Garrett," Adrienne warned.
"I really don't know," he said quickly. "It was some green stuff in a cauldron and it sort of got knocked over - "
"How?"
More silence.
"Garrett!"
"My toy broom kinda got away from me a little," he admitted very slowly.
"What is the rule about riding your broomstick?"
"Only outside in the back yard and only when you say it's okay," Garrett recited automatically.
"And what is the rule about Mommy's laboratory?"
"Never go in there when you're not there and don't touch anything. But, Mom, I had to get my broom," he protested.
"So your excuse for breaking one rule was that you broke another? That's not going to cut it. What happened to your blue shirt?"
"It sort of went 'pouf' and there was a purple cloud that was really cool and - "
"I get the picture." Adrienne started expertly sorting through the debris on Garrett's half of the room.
"Am I in trouble?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"We'll talk about that later." She handed him a stack containing clean underwear and another outfit. "Right now you need to get washed up and dressed or we'll miss Aunt Catherine's wedding. Scoot!" Satisfied with the momentary reprieve, Garrett scurried away to the bathroom and Adrienne stared at the disaster left in his wake. To clean or not to clean? That is the question, she mused humorously.
"I can help straighten up," Tristan offered.
"No, Tristan, this is Garrett's job. Since you're already dressed, you can just relax and enjoy yourself for a bit if you like. I'll call you in plenty of time." The somber dark eyes of her oldest son regarded her with politely concealed skepticism for a moment before he calmly picked up his book again.
She never said so, but the truth was that she worried more about Tristan than Garrett. Tristan was probably every parent's dream - neat, obedient, and quiet - but Adrienne thought he was a little too quiet. He hadn't been so withdrawn when Bobby was alive, but then he was really the only one of the children who had been old enough to really remember their father. Garrett remembered him a little, but those memories seemed to be fading, Adrienne acknowledged with an inward pang.
"Mommee!" It was Grace this time. Adrienne made a mental note to remember her lipstick if she got another free moment before their portkey.
"Coming!"