A/N: Okay, something of a long chapter, but I got an idea so I included it before I forgot. Perhaps considered a little OOC, but certain substances can affect people in different ways.

Bit of language/innuendo in this one perhaps. Must change the rating. Just a forewarning.

Chapter Five: Innocence

As the Sun rose on Spinner's End, one lonely, rather flustered, woman sat at her kitchen table, bills strewn everywhere.

There was no telling how much money she owed. The figure seemed to increase considerably with every passing year and there was no real doubt in her mind that her father was purchasing all his 'necessities' (necessities for him were luxuries for the poor) in his daughter's name and she was footing the bill for it. How she was supposed to feed herself and her son for the month of August she didn't know.

Setting down the pile of letters currently in her hand, she focused her attention to her left appendage and the purple rock on her third finger which shone in the candlelight. Over the last decade she had, on numerous occasions, considered selling it.

It was the only thing she had of any real value, except her son and she couldn't very well sell him. Oh, she'd thought about it once or twice when he'd been causing mischief at Hogwarts with the Weasley twins, but it would be unfair to the customer. They'd bring him back in half an hour demanding a full refund; he'd drive them crazy. He was a good lad but he could drive people to distraction.

Still, that engagement ring, however tempting it was to sell to put food on the table, held too many memories for Dinah to ever part with.

Sighing, her head rested on her right hand, her elbow on the table, as she looked into the faceted amethyst, as though it could provide her with all the answers.

"Oh, Sirius… Would it be like this if you were here?" She paused. "Would Vega still be here? Would the Littl'un still be here?"

Tears met her eyes as she thought of the two children she had lost. Sweet little Vega with the bouncing curls who drowned in the river; baby Sirius who died mere hours after birth. Sirius could have saved them. He'd have been diving in that river for his little princess and saved her life. He'd never have let his newborn son die.

"Would Harry have been happy with you, Sirius?" she wept. She could never consider herself in the picture with Harry and Sirius. Dinah was not Harry's legal guardian, but Sirius was. She had no real place in Harry's life. James was even reluctant to have her in the house at all, but she was Lily's best friend and if he was allowed to spend all the time in the world with his friends, she should have that same privilege. Oh, they'd had an argument about that, but Dinah left before she could add further fuel to the flame.

"I have no doubt he would be loved."

Instead, unfortunately for Harry, he was stuck living with Lily's sister. There was no love in that house; Dinah knew that, but Dumbledore was unwilling to see the problem.

Sighing, she resigned herself to the fact that there was no use in pondering 'what ifs?' All that could do was drown her in the misery of what might have been; far from reality.

Her thoughts returned to her other children. She hadn't been to their shared gravestone in four years; not since Vega's funeral. She blamed herself, of course. If she hadn't let Rigel take his sister out to play that day Vega would have still been with them. She'd have been starting at Hogwarts this year, had she survived, and that hurt Dinah far more than she ever thought possible. Harry was starting Hogwarts and the little girl he played with a decade earlier never would.

One thing James Potter could never have done was separate his son from the children of his own best friend (no matter who the mother was) so Rigel and Vega, at least, were welcome in the Potters' home, even if 'Snape' (he could never bring himself to call her by her first name) wasn't.

Little Sirius wasn't on the scene at the time, but he hadn't fared a great deal better than Vega had.

He had been conceived in the Summer of '81. That was an interesting weekend for the proud parents.

Smiling at the memory, her first genuine smile in a long time, Dinah recalled the "Blackpool Fiasco," as it had been named not too long after the event by her significant other.

She could never be truly angry at Sirius for his indiscretion because he did make her laugh, though he did spend Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday making excuses for his behaviour. Oh, she was more than irritable at the time but when she thought back now she recalled the memory with fondness. Perhaps it was because Sirius was no longer by her side; incarcerated in Azkaban. Too often people fail to recognise what's right under their nose and Dinah honestly spent more time being angry at him than she did laughing with him.

Still, she remembered the Rose Hotel and the undeclared programme of events she was to share with Sirius. There was nothing disclosed in the advert about drunken, naked men obnoxiously skipping down the halls singing muggle ballads loudly and off-key and causing their angry partners to throw the door open, pull them inside and verbally chew their ears off (or maybe that was just Sirius and herself.)

She hated alcohol. She'd been around it long enough with her father and now her partner had taken a shine to it. He hadn't known, of course, at least not up until that point. Once she realised what he'd been getting up to, of course, he knew where he stood on the fermented fruit front.

She'd all but thrown the poor man into the bath and blasted him with cold water from the shower. His cries of "Dinah! I'm freezing my balls off!" were meaningless, as she drew the shower curtain around him, abandoned the bathroom, slammed the door and then did the same to the main door of the bedroom.

"Did ya ever 'ear such a racket?" one guest said.

"Must be honeymooners," another replied in a state of amusement, when Dinah arrived outside the door, in a state of tremendous irritation.

It appeared as though all other guests in that part of the hotel had left their rooms in response to the commotion from Room 12B. All eyes were on Dinah; some wide-eyed, some in disbelief, and several of them with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

"I dunno what you're all starin' at," the black-haired woman seethed. "There's nothin' to see." With that, she turned to re-enter the room.

Of course, in her agitation, she'd forgotten the key and was now locked out.

"Oh, flamin' Norah!" she growled, her accent becoming significantly-more pronounced with her anger. Banging on the door, she called to the current source of her grouchiness. "Lemme in!"

From the other side of the door, and over the sounds of running water, an inebriated cry was heard. "Le' me out!"

A round of sniggers sounded throughout the hallway, and Dinah turned with rage-filled eyes. "Don't you all have places to be?" Her voice was soft and slow, considerably different from the tone they'd previously heard.

One by one, the guests had returned to their rooms, still laughing.

She had eventually got back into the room after a rather soggy, still-naked Sirius opened the door for her. Admittedly it took twenty minutes, but she did get back in.

Of course, after all the alcohol Sirius had had that night there was no way he was sleeping in the bed; Dinah made sure of that. It was true enough that she had given him his two wafer-thin hotel pillows, plus the cushions the hotel apparently had in abundance, and three towels and two blankets out of the wardrobe to make a bed for him on the floor, but that didn't mean he was sleeping there.

About an hour after finally getting to sleep, Dinah had been woken by a pitiful moaning. With two children, any little thing could have woken her up at any given moment. Unlike Sirius, she was a light sleeper.

Her eyes fell on the carriage clock on the bedside table. Twenty-to-four. Rolling onto her right side she then realised something. She wasn't holding his hand anymore. They usually held hands in bed and, even though she was annoyed at him that night (and he had been sleeping on the floor as a result) it hadn't stopped her.

"Sirius…?" she called, groggily.

Leaning over the side of the bed she noticed he wasn't there and, like a curse from a wand, she shot out of bed, having fought with the bedsheets and stubbed her toe on the table along the back wall as she went to frantically search for him. Precisely where he was now, she didn't know, although she did trip over something soft and went ploughing head-first into the door.

"Ohhhhh…" There was the moaning again.

Turning to look to the source, ignoring her throbbing head, Dinah's eyes fell on the drunk fool she involved herself with who was kneeling in front of the open wardrobe.

"Sirius…?" she asked quizzically. Why could he possibly be on his knees in front of the wardrobe? Righting herself, she crawled to his side. "What is it, honey?" she asked, stroking his cheek. "Are you hurt?"

It wasn't so strange that Dinah Snape had her tender side. She could be as sweet as pie if you caught her on a good day.

"I…. need…" He was almost breathless.

"What? What d'you need? Say it; I'll get it," she promised.

He seemed to spend ages getting his last word out but Dinah was surprisingly patient when the time called for it. "… food."

Dinah instantly released her supporting hold on the man before her and leaned back. "So that's it? All these theatrics for a bloody biscuit?"

She stumbled over to the table (the very source which had her currently nursing a throbbing toe) and blindly examined the contents of the complimentary tray. Well, rather, the empty kettle, tiny plastic pots of milk, individual paper sachets of sugar and… one plain biscuit. Snatching up the solitary plastic-wrap-encased cookie (not even a particularly nice flavour, as she recalled) she virtually threw it at her intended. "One biscuit," she spat, before hobbling back into bed. "And for Merlin's sake, put some pants on. Good-night." So irate as she was, she threw herself back on the bed. Trying to get any sort of sleep that night, of course, was impossible however. No witch should ever go to bed angry.

In the half an hour that had passed, sleep continued to evade her. It was only once she heard Sirius wrenching and throwing up that she felt truly satisfied. That was his penance for drinking. Admittedly, she had seen the still-pantless Sirius throwing up in the wardrobe, but he was doing so in his own shoes. Dinah certainly wasn't gonna stop him; it'd teach him a lesson.

By the time morning came round, Dinah might have even skipped to the dining room; she was so satisfied. It was payback time for some of the misery he'd put her through at school.

By the time he squelched into the hotel restaurant, other residents holding napkins over their noses, Dinah was sat at the table, waiting patiently for the aftermath. She could smell the contents of his shoes, of course, but didn't allow it to bother her.

"Morning!" she teased, entirely-too-chipper for Dinah Snape. She wasn't usually so energetic, but Sirius would just have to humour her this time.

He held his head in his hands, and groaned, much the same as he had in the night.

"Oh dear," she announced, deliberately, "it looks like someone had too much to drink last night. Are you hungry, sweetheart?"

He spoke between groans. "Don't patronise me, Dinah. Why does this restaurant smell like vomit?"

Dinah smirked. "I'm surprised you haven't noticed, darlin', but you've never been very observant, have you?"

"What happened last night?" he groaned.

She had a bit of fun with that question. "Wet dreams," she smiled.

At this, he had lifted his head to look at her. "Are you smiling or smirking?"

"Oh, I can be doing whatever you want me to be doing. Smiling, smirking, bringing biscuits, ordering kippers…"

"Kippers?" Sirius shot up in nauseated rage at the mere mention of kippers, but had to slowly return to his seat and hold his head once more. "Why?" he moaned in pain.

Dinah shook her head. "Don't do that, Sirius; you sound like a troll having an orgasm."

Wide-eyed, Sirius gaped at the pint-sized partner he had chosen for himself. Did she really just say that?

"Close your mouth; the Knight Bus is coming," she added, flatly. With that, Sirius snapped his mouth shut.

"Why did you order kippers, you stupid woman? I hate kippers!" the curly-haired wizard sounded like a petulant child.

"I know," was his future spouse's reply, with a smile plastered right across her face. "What happened to your clothes, by the way?" she asked, changing the subject.

"My clothes? Hey, what happened to the kipper argument? You never answered my question."

Now, the couple were really beginning to attract the attention of other residents.

Dinah shrugged innocently. "Who said we were arguing? I didn't say we were arguing."

"Answer my question then, you dosy bint." His hangover wasn't affecting his ability to insult her; that was certain.

"Heard of a little thing called revenge, Sirius?" she replied.

"Sirius?" a chorus of perplexed residents chanted. "What kind of a name is Sirius?"

"It's the kind of name you'd give to flea-ridden mongrel who appears to be under the misapprehension that the Sun shines out of his backside," was Dinah's response. She would have said something about eavesdropping, but was feeling rather generous that morning.

At that, the aforementioned 'flea-ridden mongrel' slammed his hand on the table, prompting his other to attach to his head once more in pain. "I'm not gonna sit here while you insult me, Snape." With that, he rose from his seat, and traipsed through the restaurant, squelching on the way.

"Where are you gonna sit then? The comfy chair in the lobby? Good luck with that one; you'll have to fork out the upholstery bill." With one look at the floor, she hastened to add. "Mind the carpet."

With that, the waiter arrived with a plate of cold fish and placed it at Sirius' recently-vacated space, sniffing the air as he went; trying to find the source of the nauseating stench. He at one point resorted to checking his own shoes.

"Oh, Sirius, your kippers?" Dinah called.

Sirius turned just enough to shout back "You're bonkers!" while attempting to force down the bile that had risen to his throat.

Sirius had been for a walk on the beach that day to try and clear his head… and perhaps his shoes. He didn't know what had happened the night before or why there was sick in his shoes, but he had to get rid of them. Where a quick 'scourgify' may have done the trick, as practical Dinah would have done, he was in the presence of muggles now and he couldn't very well have done magic without incurring penalties from the Ministry of Magic. It was easier to just throw them in the bin. His soppy socks had gone in there too, and he'd gone down to the beach from there.

He didn't know, however, that Blackpool Pleasure Beach wasn't the most pleasurable of beaches. There was no sand; just pebbles, glass, bin liners and other cast-offs. Needless to say, he waddled liked a goblin into the hotel later that day on his knees.

"Oh, Sirius, how sensitive of you," Dinah said, taking into account the shuffling wizard. "We're finally the same height."

"Shut up, you," the Gryffindor spat.

"I did warn you. I told you Thursday not to go to the beach in bare feet."

"Well, you didn't tell me it was full of rocks and rubbish, did you?"

"I thought that was implied," Dinah smirked, and made her way up to the room.

It was a while before Sirius could join her, of course, but she had the door open waiting for him.

"Get on the bed," Dinah said.

"Oh, Mrs. Robinson, are you trying to seduce me?" Sirius teased, before he was even over the threshold. He'd seen a few muggle films in his time. They'd watched some of them together; others he'd watched with James.

Of course it had been only to tend to his feet… and perhaps his knees, which were red raw from friction. More than likely carpet burns.

After she had cleaned and healed him, naturally with magic, she took to massaging his feet.

Sirius groaned in pleasure. "Oh, Di, have you considered changing jobs? That feels so good."

Dinah sighed and rolled her eyes. "Must you turn a simple pain relief into something sexual, Sirius? Really!" With that, she slapped his foot in annoyance.

"And what about you? 'You sound like a troll having an orgasm.' How are you any different?" He retorted, in a rather poor rendition of his would-be spouse's accent.

Dinah said nothing.

Ignoring the pains in his feet, and indeed his knees, the Lion leaned into the Serpent. "Dinah," he teased, in a sing-song voice. She turned to look at him, deep into his eyes. "I know you can be a pain sometimes, but I do love ya," he grinned.

She knew that already. It wasn't something she needed to be told. She'd always been a nuisance to people and Sirius was no different; he just tolerated her more than the average Joe.

She turned away from him. She couldn't let him know how much those words actually hurt and it would be written in her eyes. He didn't really know what sort of childhood she had, and she certainly wasn't about to tell him.

Leaning in closer, he gently pulled her hair away from her face. "Dinah," he whispered playfully, kissing her on the cheek.

Apprehensively, she looked back at him, only for him to kiss her again. She did eventually return it and he slowly pulled her down to lie on the bed…

Suffice to say, that was the time Sirius Junior was conceived, and, while it turned out to be a better day than perhaps the couple expected, it wasn't to last.

On Hallowe'en of 1981, Lily and James were murdered, leaving little Harry an orphan.

Several days later, Frank and Alice Longbottom were tortured to insanity for refusing to betray the Potters.

Sirius was sent to Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit. Dinah knew he didn't kill all those muggles. She knew he would never betray his friends. He was innocent and she could do nothing about it.

In March of 1982, Dinah had a rather undignified labour with her premature son. The fact that her waters had broken while teaching a class of first-year students didn't leave much to the imagination for twenty eleven-year-olds. They certainly didn't need to be taught about the birds and bees.

One sensible Hufflepuff was level-headed enough to fetch Madam Pomfrey and Dinah certainly respected her for that.

The Mediwitch had considered moving Dinah to a better place for the birth of her child, but it would be rather difficult, considering the trouble she had had with previous births Poppy herself had supervised.

"Oh, what am I going to do with you, Dinah?" she chided gently. This would be the third child of Dinah's she would have brought into the world.

She hadn't supervised the birth of little Vega, but she had brought Rigel, and, indeed, her very first child into the world. She was only a child herself when she had him.

Nobody knew who would do something so terrible to one so young. She was only fourteen and bringing a baby into the world. It was true the baby was unwanted, for all the misery pregnancy had brought her. She couldn't bond with him. She wouldn't feed him, change him or hold him when he cried. No, the Mediwitch did all that.

But, thinking about it, Poppy wondered if her colleague had known at the time what was to happen; that she wouldn't be able to keep him. That, in itself, was reason enough for the teen not to bond with him; to save herself the emotional pain if he was taken from her. And he was.

She couldn't bond with him, but that didn't mean that she felt nothing when he was taken from her. Taken by Ministry Officials, who wrenched the baby boy out of her grasp. It was the only time she held him; to hand him over to Merlin-Knows-Who.

The Matron had to hold the girl back to keep from running after them when they left and the teen wasn't the only one sobbing that day.

But that wintery day in March wasn't much different. That baby had lived only a few hours and the two females ended up in the same state they both had almost eight years previously.

Dinah didn't like talking about her other children. It was too painful for her and Rigel, bless him, didn't know anything about his older half-brother, for which she was glad.

He didn't really know about his younger brother really, either. He was only four when Little Sirius was born and he noticed his Mummy had a big belly one day and the next she didn't… and she didn't have a baby with her. How she could speak of him at all, Dinah had no idea, let alone to her other baby boy who could never comprehend death at such a young age.

It was true she hadn't been affectionate to Rigel for a long time. Since Vega's death, it seemed. It was almost as if she was too scared to touch him now; that if she did she would cause him pain and lose him forever.

Neither could she allow him to really see how she felt. She'd never been able to truly express her feelings; it had been ingrained into her long ago.

Her hands were cold and wet, she realised. Merlin forbid he should see her in a state of weakness, as she moved to the sink and removed all evidence of her emotional pain.

Of course, they were going to Diagon Alley later that morning; she couldn't let herself go like that.

Tidying herself up, she refocused her attention to the mass of white paper on the table. She'd almost forgotten.

Rapidly organising them into piles by date, she found a place for them in one of the cupboards. Rigel would never see her debts. He was a teenage boy; why would he possibly go into a kitchen cupboard?

With a flick of her wand, she quickly tidied the remainder of the kitchen and ventured into the living room to read. She had to clear her head before leaving the house.