Hello, to all of you who have been waiting for an update. As I have mentioned in the Guest House, I am not Lola. My name is Amaria and I have taken over her fics. Let me assure you: I WILL FINISH THIS. Maybe not with the same flair that Lola has, but I will do my best. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 23: Order of the Phoenix

Victoria didn't emerge from her room that evening. Not even the lure of guests was enough to draw her out. Severus couldn't say he blamed her. He had knocked several times on her door to no avail. Only once had he gotten any kind of answer and even then it was only Victoria's lady's maid who came out to beg the lord to leave her mistress be for the evening. Grudgingly he had agreed to do just that. It would do no good to beg his wife's forgiveness; she didn't trust him enough to believe that he was sorry. Perhaps it was the regret that weighed on him, but Severus found himself sorely tempted to barricade himself in his study with a decanter of brandy.

Instead, he sought out Harry. The boy was in the kitchen begging food from Cook. Severus had to chuckle as Harry managed to wordlessly wheedle tarts from the very same woman who had sent many a servant running from her domain with a telltale welt across their knuckles. Of course, Severus thought wryly, he would be the one to charm her. Harry had raspberry jam at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes met the lord's as his tongue darted out to lick away the offending bit. A shiver went down Severus' spine, and he fought back the urge to cross the kitchen and take the boy against the wall.

Very good, Harry signed enthusiastically with sticky fingers. He held out a tart for Severus expectantly.

"Thank you," he replied before taking a bite of the pastry. From the corner of his eye he caught Cook staring at their hands curiously.

Harry's eyes followed Severus' gaze. She doesn't understand, he said astutely.

Amazed by the boy's awareness, Severus chuckled. He shook his head. "No lesson today?"

Earlier, Harry answered. He cocked his head to the side and made a face. You teach me.

"I am sorry. I can't teach you signs," Severus told him regretfully.

Harry shook his head and made the sign for "horse."

"You want me to teach you to ride?" Severus asked as the boy's meaning dawned on him.

Harry's eyes brightened, and he nodded enthusiastically.

Severus sighed. To be honest, he didn't have a reason not to teach Harry how to ride aside from his reluctance to be alone with the boy in a stable again. Finally, he nodded his assent, and was nearly hugged to death by the exuberant youth.

Severus ordered his most docile mare saddled, and set out to work. Teaching Harry to ride, he soon found out, was a remarkably easy task. The boy was extremely intent on his task. He watched Severus every move and mimicked it perfectly. On top of that, he had a way with animals. His actions were neither too quick, nor too hesitant. The lord leaned against the fence and watched as Harry circled the paddock. Harry was a natural born horseman. When he was mounted, he looked happier than Severus had ever seen him. Again, he marveled at the simple resilience of the boy.

Before very long, Severus was joined by Hermione. The young woman smiled at her charge, but her smile soon faded as she looked to Severus. "Is your wife going to cause problems?" she asked frankly.

"I don't quite yet know," he replied grimly. "I haven't been on very friendly terms with her for some time."

Hermione nodded. "All of this has to end sometime, you know. The deception and the hiding can't go on forever. It will eventually destroy Harry, one way or another."

Severus looked away. He didn't want to admit that the chit was right, but she was. Lies had a way of ensnaring all they touched. Even an innocent like Harry wouldn't get out unscathed. At the start of all of it, Severus had been determined to see Dursely pay, but at what cost? Was returning Harry to his rightful place going to cause more harm than good? Even at the best of his hopes, he realized that Harry would never be able to hold a place in society, nor manage his own finances. The boy was intelligent, but he had missed so many crucial years of learning. Part of him had been frozen in time at his boyhood. Dursely would exploit every weakness, would twist every truth. There was always the threat that Harry could end up locked away in Bedlam still. Could Severus really justify putting Harry through it all for revenge?

"This journey will end very soon, Miss Granger. I promise you that much," the lord vowed.

"Also, there is another matter that I wanted to bring to your attention," Hermione began. "Wherever did you find Daniel?"

"Daniel?" Severus repeated, perplexed. "Nowhere of consequence. Why should it matter?"

"It may be nothing at all, but I have noticed him watching Harry very closely with the queerest look upon his face. I questioned him about it this morning after breakfast, yet he only laughed and said that it was strange seeing someone who looked so very much like himself up close. There is just something about him that doesn't sit well," the nursemaid said with a deep frown.

"It's most likely nothing to worry about," he murmured thoughtfully. He wouldn't voice his fears to Hermione. If he did, he had little doubt the bookish Valkyrie tear the demimondaine to pieces.

Later that night, Severus observed the pair at dinner. Daniel seated himself at the far end of the table away from Harry, but whenever he thought no one was looking, his eyes would dart to Harry. Though the looks he was sending were not threatening, there was—as Hermione had noted—something unsettling about it. If Severus wasn't mistaken, he would almost say that Daniel was jealous of Harry. But why? And then suddenly, a very bizarre thought struck him. Once the meal was cleared away, Severus asked Daniel to join him in the parlor for a brandy

"Are you sorry you agreed to join in on this little misadventure?" Severus asked as he poured.

"No," Daniel replied sincerely. "I am only sorry that I was needed. Though I must say that being shot by a mad man is certainly not something I enjoyed, but I guess that it only means I played my role well."

"It's quite striking how much you look like him," Severus agreed.

The younger man took a drink of his liquor, and looked away. "Like your beloved Harry?"

"Don't play the jilted lover for my behalf," Severus scoffed. "You and I both know that isn't what this is about. Quite a coincidence, though, the two of you looking so much like Sir James."

Daniel paled visibly. "When did you figure it out?"

"Only just. I had a suspicion earlier this evening, but you confirmed it for me."

"I bear him no ill will. Please, believe that," Daniel whispered. "I've never felt any hatred or resentment for my father, nor for his legitimate heir."

Severus sneer. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I do." Daniel drained his glass and stared at the fire in the grate. "You must understand that my mother loved my father dearly until her death. Though I don't remember him, she told me that he doted on me until he died. Even once their affair ended, he provided handsomely for us—spared no expense—even though my mother had already secured a new protect or when he married Lady Lily. Sir James may not have been a true father to me even had he lived, but why should I bear him hatred when he was so much better to us than many a lord who sires bastards?"

The man sounded earnest, Severus would grant him that, but he was still not convinced. "But what of Harry? Do you deny you're jealous of him?"

"I do not," he agreed ruefully. "But I do not envy his circumstance. Had I been the heir, I would have most likely ended up the same. Besides, how foolish would I be to begrudge him the facts of his birth when I have suffered for the facts of mine? My brother cannot change it anymore than I can."

"Then what it is that you are envious of?" Severus demanded plainly. He was tiring of riddles.

Daniel smiled sadly. "You."

"Surely, you are joking."

"Not at all. How could I not wish for a lover as loyal and true as you are? After all we shared of our bodies, I only wish I could claim a tenth as much of your heart. Never before have I ever felt the slightest stirrings for one of my patrons, but the way you looked at me when you pretended I was him..." His words trailed off, and he shrugged. Severus opened his mouth to speak, but Daniel held up a hand to stop him. "You love my brother enough to burn through all of Hell and Heaven for him. Please don't do him the injustice of lying about it."

Stunned, the lord merely nodded. He was not a handsome man, nor was he a particularly affectionate one. Never had he considered that someone may actually have strong feelings for him. In fact, he was certain that did Harry truly know better, the boy would find him lacking. It boggled the mind that a man who had experienced as many lovers as Daniel had would want him for more than the contents of his bank account. The idea was unnerving. Perhaps it was better not to explore the thought farther.

"Still, why didn't you tell me about your father sooner?" Severus asked instead.

"Would you have trusted me?"

"No. Put so plainly, I cannot deny that I would have questioned your motives. For good or for ill, you are involve now, though. I must wonder how far you are willing to go?" Severus pondered.

Daniel eyed him curiously. "What did you have in mind?"

"Just a vague idea, really. I will let you know as soon as I figure out the details," he answered dismissively.

Though it wasn't an outright lie, Severus did actually have more than a bit of his plan already formed. However, much of that plan hinged on Victoria. The irony that he should have to include her into all of this was not lost on him. It took days to win his wife's forgiveness—as well as many expensive trinkets—but finally he managed to do so nearly a week after arriving at Spinner's End.

Of anyone who had been told Harry's tale, Victoria showed the least amount of true feeling. She merely arched a golden brow. "So he isn't your bastard," she remarked coldly.

"Most certainly not," Severus assured her, keeping his tone carefully bland.

"So what then does this little phoenix mean to you?" Victoria asked. Her eyes lock on him as though she were a hawk and he a hare.

He had expected the question. Of course, she would ask him that. Victoria was far from stupid, and her mercenary nature would not allow her to believe that his interest was simply benevolence. Still, expecting the question did not mean wishing to answer. Severus sighed heavily.

"The phoenix, if that is what you feel the need to call him, happens to be my lover's younger brother," he half-lied. Admitting that he wanted Harry would only make him a target. He would rather place the rings upon someone more able to defend themselves from Victoria's barbs.

Victoria's eyes widened. "Your mistress? That mouse you prefer in your bed?"

Grunting his displeasure, he shook his head. "Daniel."

At first, she merely stood there and blinked at him, but then crystalline laughter filled the air. His wife looked as though she could not have been anymore pleased. "So after all of these years," she mocked, "I find that my husband is a sodomite. To think, I had almost convinced myself that I was to blame."

"You are not," he agreed wearily.

"Of course, I am not," she sniffed with new-found confidence. "Now, given this somewhat shocking and highly scandalous turn of events, I am perhaps even a bit more apt to assist you."

Severus raised a black brow. "And your price?"

Victoria's smile was almost chilling in its ferocity. "Oh, I am sure we can come to an accord."