Title: Raised by Dementors

Card Name: Bonfire

Square #: B

Square #: 5

Link:

Line Y/N?: (Down, Across, Diagonal) Y DIAGONAL

Blackout Y/N? N

Your team: Team Vampire

Prompt: Dementors

Summary:Bellatrix Lestrange doesn't want to be a mother, so she does what a questionable sane witch would do. Get rid of it.

Beta Love: Dragon and the Clingy Kitty, Dutchgirl01 the Parakeet Overlord, Commander Shepard Trapper of Rodents


Raised by Dementors

Life is not what you expect: it is made up of the most unexpected twists and turns.

Ilaiyaraaja


Bellatrix smiled cruelly as took the tiny bundle in her arms and threw it out into the cold, black darkness where her beloved lord kept the Dementors.

She couldn't afford to be distracted by some squalling baby.

Only her great and wondrous lord truly mattered.

The Dementors would quickly erase the little parasite from the face of the world.

She hoped it hurt.

She stormed back out of the silent and disturbingly cold dark chamber to the bright and glorious future her lord would bring to the Wizarding World.


As the baby squirmed hungrily on the cold stone floor, the Dementors gathered round, hovering in their hoarfrost mist, their heads turned to peer down at the unexpected bundle. One of the largest of them floated in closer, their gnarled and taloned hands scooping up the baby as their hooded face pressed closer.

The baby stuck her hand into the space where its "face" would be, giggling.

The Dementor huffed a small bit of soul out of his mouth, and it shot up her nostrils and into her mouth. The baby coughed a little, but then she squealed and giggled. She made hungry smacking noises with her mouth.

The Dementors hissed to each other, unsure.

One by one, the Dementors shared little fragments of soul with the baby, and she took them in, giggling.

But—she was still hungry.

The largest Dementor scratched his hood with one hand.

One of the other large Dementors pulled a wad of velvety "fabric" from his robes and shook it out.

The cloth rippled groggily, obviously alive but unhappy to be so rudely Dementor-handled.

The Dementor pointed a taloned finger at the baby.

The Lethifold froze in place, its entire body a question within a question.

The Dementor gestured the Lethifold closer.

The Lethifold slowly explored the squirming baby, wrapping itself around her, and one "end" of the cloth produced a droplet of concentrated Lethifold milk.

The baby took that end in her mouth and suckled on it contentedly.

The Dementors shrugged, passed the baby around, patting her gently on the back until she burped up tiny fragments of soul and Lethifold milk breath and then fell instantly asleep.


The Dark Lord Voldemort was seriously annoyed.

Everytime he found a proper place to make his new headquarters, used nappies with minty fresh odour would start to appear all around him.

It didn't matter where he was—

The nappies would show up.

His knights, no matter how much he tortured them, swore they knew nothing about it. He eventually had to admit that maybe they really didn't know anything.

How was he supposed to recruit new peons if in the middle of a persuasive conversation a mint-scented nappy would show up?

Sometimes he would hear a baby coo or giggle, and he would angrily torture his knights, certain that one of them was hiding some secret love child, but they all insisted that they knew nothing.

Well, it certainly wasn't the werewolves or the vampires and it sure as hell wasn't the DEMENTORS!

Voldemort decided to torture Wormtail a little while longer just to make himself feel better.


"Well, where is she?"

"She who?"

"The baby!" Narcissa hissed.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Narcissa frowned. "The tapestry doesn't lie, Bella!"

"Yes, it doesn't," chimed two male voices as Rabastan and Rodolphus pushed past Narcissa and entered the room.

Narcissa paled, wringing her hands as she stood against the wall, terror on her face.

"Did you forget about the details of our contract that went into effect upon getting married, dear Bella?" Rodolphus asked through gritted teeth.

"Upon Oath of your magic and purity, a child was to be presented to the family Lestrange, lest we would act upon your previous infidelity as per the Old Ways."

"NO, NO!" Bella shrieked, shaking her head violently. "I am loyal to our LORD!"

Rabastan and Rodolphus shut the door to the room as Bella's horrified screams reached a frenzied pitch as Narcissa wept piteously in the corner, cradling her head in her hands.


Far away, the Dementors peered closely at their young charge after changing her latest nappy and sending it off into the Void of Perpetual Randomness.

The little girl giggled, her brown hair becoming longer and curlier as magic crackled through her little body. As she pulled her Lethifold around her, she began to float, a small pint-sized aura of hoarfrost forming around her body.

The Dementors gathered around proudly and fed her a celebratory soul.

Her little body seemed to rapidly grow and age with the addition of the complete soul, and she floated more steadily as her hoarfrost aura expanded. Her eyes flickered with deep magic as she assimilated the soul and magic together.


Sanguini was having a very, very bad day.

Week.

Probably year.

Getting caught by the "Dark Lord Voldemort" after freeing his people was—not his finest hour.

About the only good thing about being where he was at that moment was that the Dark Lord kept getting distracted from torture by minty nappies falling on his head every time he began to cast a really horrible spell.

It was hard to keep a straight face despite his precarious situation. He managed, but it was definitely challenging.

So, here he was, dangling upside down (which wasn't altogether new, mind you) quite naked from the waist down (or up depending on if he was right side up) for whipping and torture purposes, and feeling pretty off his game.

About the only thing he could say on a positive note was that at least he wasn't the poor wretch in the cell next to him. It sounded like Bellatrix Lestrange, but strangely more insane than ever. That and Voldemort was clearly taking great pains to torture the woman slowly—which didn't sound like something he'd do to his favourite pureblood magical sycophant.

Maybe the woman didn't get the fall of minty nappies like he did. The Dark Lord didn't seem to have any problems using Crucio on her—for whatever reason.

Voldemort didn't seem to be having a good time anymore. What that meant about his plans for world domination, Sanguini had no idea, but he'd have to be free of the enchanted manacles to have a better mental state for contemplating such things.

His cell suddenly became strangely cold—

Odd, considering he normally didn't feel cold the way most mortals did. Though, maybe it was because he hadn't had a good feed in—

Quite some time.

He saw a small figure walking towards him. A child?

A halo of curly hair spread down over her shroud like robes. Her little feet were bare, and they—weren't touching the ground.

Tiny fingers pressed against his face, curiously touching his skin. Her fingers were pale, and they had an aura of cold about them. Her eyes glowed with a blue foxfire—the very epitome of inhuman.

As her small fingers touched his lips, tracing the curve of his fangs with a respectful brush, he felt her rising anger at his imprisonment. With a surge of cold, the manacles that held him abruptly shattered, and he fell to the floor in a boneless slump.

Sanguini rolled over onto his side and pushed himself up with a pained grunt.

The little girl placed her hands on his cursed cuts, and that insidious, powerful cold flowed into them, but his wounds closed almost instantly.

She looked at him, biting her lip.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I am Sanguini. Do you have a name, child?"

The girl tilted her head. She opened her mouth, and there was a soft, almost undetectable hiss of sound.

"That is your name?"

She nodded.

"I'm not sure I can do such a name justice," Sanguini confessed. "May I call you something from one of the great plays?"

The girl nodded.

"How about—" Sanguini thought, rifling through his memories. "Hermione."

Hermione smiled at him.

"Pleased to meet you, Hermione," Sanguini said. "Thank you for freeing me—but I must go. This is not a safe place for me or—anyone, really."

Hermione furrowed her brows and touched his brows with her fingers, tracing them before touching the middle of his forehead.

The cold rose for a moment, and his world seemed to go through warp speed as if he was being pulled through space and time.

Sanguini suddenly found himself standing in the middle of the very familiar Council chambers—empty sans himself.

And Hermione.

And about two dozen Dementors.

The Dementors all cocked their heads at him curiously as Sanguini tried to collect his thoughts, sanity, or some mix in between.

Then Hermione lifted her arms and the largest Dementor scooped her up and floated out of the Council chambers—right through a wall. The other Dementors followed, seemingly going wherever the original was.

Sanguini sat down upon his neglected throne with a whuff of air and the startled Lethifold on his seat zipped out from under him and slammed into the gong hanging from the ceiling.

Sanguini grimaced.

Well, now everyone would know he was back.

Glorious.

He wasn't even wearing a shirt.


"This child is—being raised by Dementors?" Tobias said in frank astonishment as he grabbed a large grapefruit-sized blood fruit, yanked the desiccated fruit off of Sanguini's fangs, and stuck the new one onto them.

"Or she actually is a Dementor," Sanguini speculated. "I can't say that I've ever encountered a young Dementor to know."

"We know very little about the biology of Dementors," Rada said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin with his fingers. "I fear there isn't any sort of reference material with regard to such things."

"Well, she speaks in hisses that are so soft that even I have a hard time hearing them, she floats, has a hoarfrost aura, and seems to have a family group of upwards of two dozen Dementors that stay with her," Sanguini said with a sigh. "If she isn't a Dementor, then she's doing a really good job at being adopted by them. She has powerful magic about her, but it's more about will than wand. Or need. Hard to tell."

"Do you think she will return?" Rada asked, sipping his bloodwine.

"She seems curious. She wants to help—I think so," Sanguini said. "Unless we give her a reason to dislike us."

"So, we what—teach her like Romulus and Remus to be a civilised warmonger?" Tobias asked.

"I hope we have outgrown that, my friend," Sanguini said.

"We can hope," Rada said with a chuckle.

Tobias looked into his drink. "My son?"

"Still enslaved by two masters. One arguably darker than the other," Sanguini said with a sigh.

"All over an infatuation with a red-haired siren," Tobias muttered. "Who enslaved him just as horribly as the wizards did."

Rada placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "This war will end in time. Just like so many others before it."

"But will my son survive it?" Tobias asked no one in particular.

Both Rada and Sanguini grimaced.

The sudden silence merely confirmed what Tobias already knew. His son wasn't likely to survive.


Bellatrix losing her magic and Sanguini's subsequent escape had not settled well amongst Voldemort's seat of power nor was it beneficial to his already questionable mental health.

He took to frequently torturing all of his remaining knights to make himself feel better, hoping it inspired them to find bloody Potter and his son of prophecy.

His favourite was and still was Snape.

It was terribly easy to wrap the man's obsession with the Mudblood witch around his fingers and jerk. Even to him, the mystery of why Snape found such a woman so enthralling was completely unfathomable. Even Wormtail said the fixation was "strange."

He scoffed as Snape fell to the floor in a heap, just taking the torture as he always did. He never attempted to grovel or anything interesting. He just took it. There was no sadistic thrill in torturing someone who seemed to believe they deserved it.

He stormed out, leaving Snape bleeding out on the tavern floor.

"We're leaving," Voldemort snapped, and the rest of his knights left with him in a series of loud cracks.

Snape grunted as his hands clawed at the tavern floor.

Dull human nails.

Weak human magic.

He was a failure in so many things.

Failure at his species.

Failure at love.

Just an all around failure.

He took the torture because he believed he deserved it.

He collapsed, face first into the floor.

He heard footsteps approaching him. "You were always such a sucker for Lils," a familiar voice said. "And what did it get you? Absolutely nothing."

Severus could even feel Pettigrew's cruel smile without actually seeing it.

"And now, you're going to die here and no one is going to miss you. Not our Lord. Not your dead infatuation. Not even Dumbledore."

A cold chill tingled about his skin.

Frost formed on his skin. It melted then reformed again. He blinked furiously, grimacing.

He rolled on his side to see a dark figure float through the far wall, the dark robes of a Dementor fluttered silently in the invisible magic wind.

Pettigrew seemed to sense something, and he turned hastily, his face going pale as milk.

He stumbled backwards over a tavern table, yelling in fright, but he fell at the feet of a larger Dementor—and another, and another.

They soon filled the room. The largest Dementor towered over Pettigrew, and the man shrank back in terror. He chittered inhumanely as his body jerked and twisted and shrank into that of a rat, and he scampered away!

Only a smaller hand caught him.

The smallest of the Dementors wrapped a hand around the rodent and brought it close to their covered head.

The other Dementors hissed, gesturing. It would have been communication, Severus realised, if he had any clue how to translate such sounds.

One Dementor pinched the rat's head between two fingers, and tilted that head back by force, and the smaller Dementor drew out the "rat's" soul like one was savouring a plate of spaghetti in one large slurp.

The smaller Dementor hiccuped, a tiny wisp of soul escaping, and the larger Dementors sucked it in, gently patting the other on the back. The smaller Dementor seemed to grow with the consumption of the soul.

Then, the Dementor that Severus could only guess was "younger" turned and floated toward him.

Gods, was this how he was going to die?

At least he had the satisfaction of seeing Pettigrew go before him—

I'm sorry, Father, he whispered mentally. I've failed you yet again.

The young Dementor pulled back their hood—something he'd never seen one do before. She—they had gender?!

She had a full head of brown curls and chocolate brown eyes rimmed in preternatural blue-green ethereal energy. She placed her hands against his body where the cutting curses had done their best to murder him, and she blew upon them.

His flesh stung with the cold, but that was followed by a pleasant numbness. He saw the wounds on his arm knit together and disappear instantly—

But even more startling, the Dark Mark screeched and seethed, bubbling up from his pores into a thick black paste. And as the paste surfaced, it froze and shattered into what looked like shards of dark glass on the floor. Yet, that wasn't all—

Wisps of some insidious sort of spell gathered on the surface of his skin, no longer able to hide within the Dark Mark's more powerful presence.

The larger Dementors pointed to it, gently tapping the younger one on the shoulder.

The "girl" brightened, and with a focused draw of "breath" drew that magic inside herself. Her small body glowed a bright veridian, and then it seemed to shoot out to share with all the other Dementors.

And those impossibly tall Dementors grew even taller, and the girl seemed to grow too.

Whatever that spell was she had devoured, it had enough power to feed the lot of them and cause a significant growth spurt.

What the hell had it been?

And then—it fell upon him like the weight of the Earth being removed from his shoulders.

That impossibly deep well of guilt.

That driving need for Lily's approval, even from the grave.

The lingering image of her face in every damn memory he ever had—gone.

For the first time in his life, he couldn't remember what Lily even looked like short of her having long red hair and green eyes. His mind knew it, but the image of her frozen in time and so perfect was gone.

The girl's hands touched his arm, and his entire body lurched like it was being pulled through space by his hair—


The Council yawned as the accountant detailed far too many numbers than any of them really wanted to hear. The hellhounds eyed the hellcats with nervous energy, the need to do something like chase their feline companions starting to drive them mad.

Suddenly, there was a blast of cold as the body of Severus Snape fell right on the accountant, and the gathering of newly appeared Dementors hovered about for a few seconds before floating out of the chamber by simply phasing through the walls.

Severus let out a pained grunt as the accountant's clipboard was wedged into his ribs.

The Councils' eyes glowed together.

"Happy Christmas, Tobias," Lord Agvardus said cheerfully.

Tobias rushed up to tend his prodigal son as others attempted to unflatten the poor accountant.


"You'll have to pardon my disbelief, Father," Severus said as Lord Nikolai passed his hands over him and then a wand, and then medical devices unseen in the Muggle or magical world. "But I thought you had sent the Dementors to me."

Tobias sat in the chair next to Severus' medical bed. "No, none of us did."

"Dementors tend to be a mysterious species even to those of us living in the Dark of the magical world," Nikolai said. "They, much like Lethifolds, will often boggle us. The difference being—Lethifolds will at least partner with us when they aren't trying to eat you."

"Technically they try to eat us then decide we're worth keeping around, I think," Sanguini said with a chuckle, closing the book he was reading with a flop before putting it down on the nearby reading table.

"I think it's all a plot to get to the females of our species," Tobias said. "Eileen charmed the Lethifold I brought back to her so thoroughly that it made all my scratches and bites seem like a made up fantasy."

"Well, she did mate you," Rada pointed out, drumming his fingers on the windowsill he was sitting beside. "Hardly a failure."

Tobias snorted. "I suppose. Your mum will be ecstatic to know you survived," he said to Severus.

"I'd like some time to sort out my feelings on what has happened to me before I am subjected to her bear hugs," Severus said, his eyebrows knitting together.

Tobias chuckled. "Do not wait too long, or they will be like the coils of the titanoboa."

Severus grimaced. "Noted."

"So, do we have you disappear now that you are unchained from your servitude to two masters, or do you wish to resume your facade?" Tobias asked.

"I think it would be wise for me to go underground for now," Severus mused. "Lest I murder a manipulative old bastard and end up in Azkaban. I can run an owl post potions business. Perhaps, I will do some research—on Dementors."

"She has whetted your curiosity, hrm?" Rada asked with a smile.

"How could I not be?" Severus asked. "I was saved by a young Dementor that none of you sent to save me."

"She saved me too," Sanguini said languidly. "She goes by Hermione."

Severus' eyes widened. "Oh. Well, that's a start."


Severus touched the photograph of Lily that had been packed up with all of his belongings and sent to the Cokeworth home upon his "death." For once, it provoked no immediate grief or guilt.

A tingle of cold rippled up his skin, and he suddenly realised he had company.

She floated just inside his door but made no attempt to go any further.

Hermione.

"Hello, Hermione," Severus said. "It is Hermione, yes?"

She smiled at him, nodding.

"Thank you, for saving me," he said.

She smiled at him again. Bright and genuine. She looked at the photograph he was holding.

"A childhood friend," Severus said. "Someone I thought incapable of being anything but the best and brightest thing in my life for far too long."

Severus sighed. "In attempting to save her life, I swore myself to Albus Dumbledore's service, but she believed herself safe. With her love and his bullying friends—the very ones that made it their mission in life to torment me every chance they got."

"Pettigrew made sure to gloat at every opportunity of how gullible Lily was. How Potter trusted him completely. How Black thought he was better than any of them—wholly trustworthy."

Severus grimaced. "The house burnt until it was nothing but cinders. A freak accident they said. All that was left was ash. The fire burned so hot that it could have only been Fiendfyre. The Dark Lord is now focused on the other boy born at the right time—Longbottoms."

He pointed to a photograph—a gathering of people in a large room. "These are the Longbottoms. They, like Lily and Potter, were victims of the Dark Lord's homicidal obsession. Last I heard, the Lestranges were told to go and make their lives more—interesting. That never bodes well for anyone."

Hermione floated over to the photograph and peered at it.

"I tried to run interference, but the night you found me, I was the Dark Lord's favourite torture victim. I didn't have an opportunity to send them word. Not that they ever would have believed me. The entire Order of the Phoenix believed that I was their biggest liability. The Lestrange brothers won't even kill them, I can guess. They'll torture them for a long time until their minds simply shatter."

Hermione frowned, her brows pinching together. Her aura of hoarfrost grew colder.

"The saying is you can't save them all," Severus said grimly. "I couldn't even save myself."

Hermione floated closer and took his hands in hers. Her small hands wrapped around his fingers as she smiled.

And then she was gone.

Severus blinked. If he hadn't known better, he'd have thought she was merely a hallucination.


The Vampire Council stared blearily at the accountant as he continued his interrupted report on all of their holdings. Most of them were reading parchments from other meetings, and a visibly bored Sanguini was filing his nails and applying a fine layer of cuticle oil on his skin and polish on his toe claws.

Tobias had a great pile of desiccated blood fruits next to him, and Rada was playing go with himself on a rotating war board.

Suddenly, the temperature dropped about fifty degrees, and a group of hysterical mortals ended up piled on top of the unlucky accountant.

Dementors spread out from the pile, floating off and dumping the dazed, vacant, zombie-like Dark wizards and witches who had obviously lost their souls quite recently—

The Dementors herded the "smaller" Dementor out of the chambers—the one that now resembled a young woman in her late teens. They all floated out together.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!" sobbed a terrified red-headed witch with green eyes and a crying mop-haired baby.

"Lily? I thought you were dead!" a blonde witch cried. Her brown Auror robes were tattered. A solemn-faced wizard took her into his arms, tears streaming down his face. "Frank! Oh gods, you're okay! We're okay! Neville—oh my gods, Neville! You're okay too!"

It was then that the rescued group of witches and wizards saw where they were and the surrounding group of extremely dour-faced, pale people staring at them. Their glowing crimson eyes anything but human.

"The war refugees, I presume," Lord Rada said calmly, sipping from a goblet filled with a crimson liquid that was definitely not juice.

"Fascinating," Sanguini said, putting down his polish and files. "Considering you were all supposedly dead."

"The redhead must be Lily Evans," Tobias said, pointing his thumb claw at her.

"S-Sev? How did you—why am I here?"

Tobias' gaze darkened. "I am not who you think I am, mortal," he said, his lips pressed into a thin line. "But I recommend you start talking at once, lest I get the impression that you purposely turned my son into a guilt-ridden, tortured individual for your own ends. Seeing as you are very much alive."

Lily gawped and said nothing, but the area between her legs became wet with urine.

The baby in her arms babbled on obliviously.

Lord Marcus shook his head. "Ah, old friend, your talent in making any and all before us piss themselves truly knows no bounds."

Tobias scowled with extra heavy eyebrows.

Lady Antonia shifted her weight forward, one hand stroking the hellhound that was sitting beside her throne. "I recommend that you start talking before there are—" She ran one finger across her fangs. "Any further misunderstandings."

The poor battered accountant wheezed beneath the new arrivals while wondering where in his unlife he had gone wrong.


"YOU BLOODY BASTARD!" James Potter screamed as he launched at Severus with extreme prejudice. "You ruined EVERYTHING! We were SAFE!"

Severus, who was walking by with a crate of potions, just stared at him, his brain frozen as he tried to process what he was seeing.

Suddenly, there was a petite mass of black and cold standing right between them, her hoarfrost extending like icy fingers in all directions.

James' face twisted in instinctive fear and anger, and he promptly yelled out,"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Hermione let out a piercing shriek of agony, and Severus immediately lunged forward. He pulled her into his arms, snatching the disoriented Lethifold from the air as he wrapped it around her and then swaddled her in his own robes after that. He placed himself firmly between her and James, his wand out as his face twisted in rage.

"You would pull a wand at me? HERE?" Severus hissed. "Are you bloody mental? Do you know where you are? Time for a reality cheque, Potter! I didn't rescue your sorry arse. I genuinely thought you were DEAD! You and Lily both. And your baby too! That is what Pettigrew told me every damned day as he gloated about what a gullible pair of idiots you were! I told Lily you needed to leave the country at once. I warned her that the Dark Lord was coming for you all, and you just buried your heads in the sand and ignored it! Did it even bother you that somehow he found your little love shack? When no one—not even bloody Dumbledore knew where you planted your heads? Have you spoken to Black, who murdered a dozen Muggles in a blind rage screaming that he was going to kill 'Wormtail' for betraying you?"

At the word 'Wormtail,' James' face went dead white as all the blood rushed away from his brain. "No, no, Peter wouldn't DO that! He's our friend! Sirius wouldn't—No. NO!"

Suddenly, a set of white talons wrapped around James' neck and yanked him up like he weighed absolutely nothing.

Sanguini's face moved not a muscle, his expression frozen in a look of nothing short of absolute murder. "I am not the soft spoken, mild mannered, and meek kicking sack you so loved to make fun of at Slughorn's merry parties anymore. Rejoice, mortal, for I have grown a fine set of balls since last we met, and you have made a grave error in harming someone I care about very much. And you have attempted harm on the son of a lord. I look forward to tearing your mind into tiny, screaming pieces as your new reality crushes you."

He clasped the back of James' neck and shook him violently until James went limp. He shoved James' limp body over to the two sombre-looking vampires that had accompanied him. "Take him to the viewing chair and lash him to it. Have Lord Aku feed him the memories until they either stick or his mind breaks. Whichever comes first. I care not."

"Yes, Lord Sanguini," the two said, swiftly carrying James back down the darkened tunnel.

Sanguini's expression visibly softened as he saw Hermione staring at him with wide eyes. "Are you all right, child?"

Hermione nodded. She smiled at him after a moment.

"You did very well in calling me when you were scared," Sanguini said. He enfolded her gently. He looked at Severus and nodded. "You also did well in not channelling your father's typical response to annoyances."

"While I admit that removing his head at an early age may have made me feel some temporary satisfaction," Severus confessed, "I am fairly certain that I am not as ruthlessly efficient as my father."

"We can't all be Roman warriors," Sanguini observed.

"Or courtesan-assassins," Severus said, an eyebrow raised.

"We all have our lots in life," Sanguini said. "Your former friend was all too eager to inform us that she escaped Godric's Hollow with her husband and son just in time for the farmhouse they had been sharing with a pair of Muggles to be razed to the ground. Apparently—the Potters were pulling an Anne Frank. They went to Dumbledore for aid, and he moved them to his childhood home, where they planned to stay until the war was over. Only, they didn't want to stay in one place. The baby was crying, hungry, demanding. They were going stir crazy—so they left to stock up on supplies from the town and the Death Eaters found them the moment they passed the wards."

Sanguini wrinkled his nose. "At least until our dear Hermione and her family fetched them. I'm sure Mr Potter believes you are the ones that sent the Death Eaters to their door—but Lord Aku will not allow such delusions to settle for long. Your once friend—this Lily Evans—knows the truth of it, now. Soon, so shall he."

"My blind hatred is gone," Severus whispered. "The terrible rage I felt— it had nothing to do with Lily. I wanted to protect—her."

Hermione's eyes widened and she smiled at him, her hoarfrost aura becoming stronger.

"I think, and this is just a guess, but every time Hermione or her brethren consume a soul, they gain their inherent magic through the soul—their knowledge, but it is a matter of learning what it means, and they are learning—through her—to be more than what we believed them to be," Sanguini theorised. "She brought you to us because Tobias was so worried about you. She brought the refugees to us because you had regrets that you couldn't save the Longbottoms."

"So, we are her moral compass?" Severus asked. "I'm sure someone is writhing in their seat at the very thought of it."

"I think her dietary needs will always be a little different," Sanguini said, "but perhaps she chooses who to feed upon much as we do, and with time, be able to do so without making them fit only for Lethifolds."

Hermione's "robes" fluttered as if listening to him, and Sanguini arched an eyebrow.

"But—perhaps," Sanguini said as he muttered a bit in ancient Dacian. "We can teach her as we teach our own—through blood and patience."

He bit his wrist and held it out to her. "If you wish it."

Hermione looked to Severus and then back to Sanguini and floated toward him, and with a gentle touch of her hands, she brought his offering to her mouth and drank.


"Hi Severus," Hermione greeted, floating over to him. She placed a copy of the Daily Prophet down amidst his extensive array of paperwork. The headline read:

Muggles Attacked in London, But Several Soulless Death Eaters Found By Aurors

Along with:

Auror Alastor Moody Scratching Head as Death Eaters Fill Azkaban

"Hermione," Severus greeted as he glanced at the headlines. "Midnight snack, hrm?"

Hermione flushed. "They were hurting people."

Severus raised a brow. "Always a good reason to eat someone."

Hermione flushed. "Walter was hungry too."

Walter rustled as if to say, "So?"

"And I found some odd things that tasted really nice."

Severus looked her in the eyes. "Extra special fermented soul?"

Hermione flushed, exuding hoarfost.

He tapped the desk.

Hermione rustled through Walter and placed a seemingly random assortment of items on the table. A diadem, a locket, a goblet, a ring—

"They were delicious." Hermione winced. "They made me so full I aged again, and I had to give the rest to my family."

Severus' gaze moved over to where "Grandfather" was putting together a rather amazing flower arrangement. Two other Dementors were dusting the shelves and laser lining the stock for the apothecary.

Severus shook his head. "We should tell my father."

"Oh, no!" Hermione said, fretting. "Will he be mad I didn't save any for him?"

Severus huffed. "I don't think he'll be mad that you devoured the soulstuff. He will probably want to know what they were that you ate, though."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Okay!" She thought for a moment. "Erm—"

Severus arched an eyebrow.

"That man you don't like had some kind of invisible cloak. It came in the mail by owl post, and Walter, erm, ate it. They were trying to escape the safe house."

Walter burped softly as both he and Hermione turned invisible for a few seconds.

"He had an—invisibility cloak?"

Hermione nodded.

Severus burst out laughing. "Bloody hell, no wonder I could never see them coming."

"Walter didn't try to eat them, did he?" Severus asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I think my hoarfrost scared them so badly, they smelled a bit rancid."

Severus' face puckered. "Saved by pissing themselves. Father would approve."

"Of bad hygiene?" Hermione asked, frowning.

Severus laughed. "No, that Walter didn't eat them because they were terrified and pissing themselves."

Hermione beamed. "Walter is very smart. He never eats things that are bad for him."

Severus smiled. "Come on, let's take these things to my father before something else happens to Potter and Lily."


"How can you just live like this is perfectly normal?" Lily demanded, her arms crossed over her chest as Neville and Harry played together in the gardens.

"I like being alive," Alice said bluntly. "Neville is doing well. He's doing magic. The Sang have a wonderful education system. By the time he's old enough to go to Hogwarts, if he wants to go, he'll understand Muggle science and magic even before he goes to Hogwarts for the rest. Frank has a wonderful job as an Auror for the Kindred village. I couldn't be happier to have been rescued from the Lestrange brothers. Especially when they told me what they were going to do to you when they found you."

Lily paled. "They wouldn't have ever found us if it hadn't been for that creature."

"If it hadn't been for Hermione," Alice said pointedly, "we'd all be dead."

Lily shook her head in denial.

"Look, Lils," Alice said with a sigh, "if you'd just let yourself see this place as a sanctuary instead of a prison, even—" she huffed a laugh. "It's almost idyllic here. Any crime is petty at the most. No one wants to muck up and end up in front of the Lords. It's far less risky here than anywhere else with the war and all, and I'm really liking working with maintaining the gardens. There are some plants here you just don't get to see unless you're really rich or really lucky. I've always liked Herbology."

"You've been brainwashed by the monsters!" Lily said.

Alice laughed. "No, I think my mind is finally clear," she said soberly. "The Wizarding World tries very hard to protect itself from the outside, but in doing so, it also insulates itself from change. That let people like the Dark Lord to rise to power—through fear and intimidation of losing what they know—grow in power and threaten those that just want to live their life. People who want to go on being oblivious. The people here, they want to live their life, too, but—they also protect their people. People aren't limited to only magical folk. Being magical isn't the only thing you can be here. I like that."

"They are tyrants!" Lily hissed.

There was a sudden cry as one of the children playing in the grove dangled from one of the orchard trees, and they lost their grip, caught a branch, but the weight gave way. The now screaming child went plummeting to the ground.

Suddenly, a dark blur rushed by and scooped up the crying child in the form of an intimidating dark-skinned vampire that had seemingly materialised in the grove. He cradled the wayward little explorer in one arm as the trembling child had a deathgrip around his neck.

"Thank you, Lord Zaidu!" sobbed the child's emotional mum as he carefully handed the child over. "We've warned him so often not to climb so high!

The vampire shook his head. "Children regardless of species will test their emerging skills and then discover their lack of them. It is—normal. Hopefully, however—" The vampire's eyes glowed slightly, their dark brown eyes turning crimson as he gently placed a claw tip to the child's nose. "They have learned to listen more carefully to their parents, hrm?"

The young boy nodded frantically.

Zaidu's expression was tight. "Excellent. I have heard good things about your performance in school, child," he said. "Do not ruin that by breaking your neck. Hrm, William?"

The boy gulped and nodded. "Thank you, Lord Zaidu."

Zaidu's fangs flashed slightly. "You are quite—welcome." He tilted his head to the mother slightly, and then he was gone, having moved so fast that had one not been looking, they would have never known he had been there.

"What have I repeatedly told you, young man?!" William's mum cried, clinging to her son tightly.

"I'm sorry, mum! I just wanted to get you the best apple!"

The mum cradled her son in her arms and carried him out of the orchard.

"See?" Alice said, smiling. "They aren't nearly as bad as you're making them out to be."

But when Alice turned back to face Lily, she was gone.

She frantically turned to Neville, but her son was still happily playing with toys with Harry.

"Lil?" Alice called. "Lily, this isn't funny, where are you?"


"One of the vilest mortal ways to avoid death," Marcus said grimly as he looked at the empty Horcrux vessels. "Unlike the Chinese obsession with cinnabar for immortality, it relies upon the death of others to keep one 'alive' or at least a shadow of life."

Tobias tapped his claws against the table. "I asked Hermione if she knew of any others, but she said they found only these. They had a very specific flavour and scent that the Dementors found—irresistible. Whatever magic the Dark Lord used to shatter himself was just basically sprinkles on the pudding."

"It seems that she has stopped ageing now that she's had her fill of Horcruxes," Lady Layra noted. "So, whatever balance seems to keep our kind from ageing also seems to also work for young Dementors. I am glad, however, that our blood allows her to learn from the souls she devoured and to understand and utilise the information as well. She seems to have grown into a talented young 'woman' if you ignore all the floating and hoarfrost." She frowned. "That being said, I wonder if this aspiring immortal will continue to murder and create more of these Horcruxes. I doubt he didn't notice that pieces of his soul are no longer preserved."

"I am not certain," Lord Maksim admitted. "The mechanics of Dementor soul consumption may have done something off the radar. I don't think he realises he has no protection against his own demise. There have been no attacks that are not reckless and even showy. It's like he's practically daring people to attack him."

"We could inform Amelia Bones in the Department of Mysteries," Lady Camille suggested. "She has a very solid head upon her shoulders. She can whisper in the right ears and perhaps press the attack."

There was a frantic patter of running feet as Severus entered the Council chamber. His eyes were wide, and he clutched a parchment in his hands. "I apologise for interrupting," he panted as he waved the parchment. "I was teaching Hermione word play. Anagrams."

"Slow down, my son," Tobias said, gesturing to him.

Severus put the parchment into his father's hands, and the Council peered at it together, their eyebrows raising as they saw the phrase "I am Lord Voldemort" moved around in various ways until it became "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Tobias smiled proudly and clapped his son on the shoulder.

"Well then," Lord Nikolai said finally. "This changes everything."


Auror Alastor Moody's Squad of Hand-Picked Aurors Crashes
Death Eater Recruitment Event

Believed-To-Be-Dead Lily Evans Potter Discovered Being Tortured For "Entertainment"

Husband James Potter Found Half-Flayed and Barely Alive


Guilt-Ridden Remus Lupin Cries, "I Truly Believed I Was Rescuing Them!" at St Mungos


Hermione floated uneasily beside Severus as he stared silently at the two people lying side by side in the hospital bed.

"I do not feel compelled to help her," Severus said after a while, "but—no person should have to live with that kind of pain."

Grandfather floated nearby, offering support with his presence, but it was obviously not very supportive to those that read the "standard" book on Dementors. The whispering and visibly frightened healers huddled together in the corner proved that five times over.

"You don't have to," Severus told Hermione, "but I think—despite my history of spite—it would be the right thing to do."

Hermione tilted her head in thought. She wrinkled her nose as she considered her options. "I will—try." She placed her hand in Severus' and seemed to shuffle through multiple emotions and layers of knowledge. Chaos seemed to rain around her mind, because her hoarfrost increased, and she started to say random phrases in multiple languages including a rather stunning impersonation of Sanguini and Zaidu.

Straightening her shoulders, she dropped Severus' hand and floated over to where James and Lily Potter were laying next to each other in their hospital beds. They were still due to the spells, but their bodies were twitching and writhing ever so minutely, enough to know that they were still suffering. James' skin was healing poorly, whatever Dark magic that had been used was not allowing him to heal well with magic or naturally. Lily's pain seemed to be more inward, her nerves on fire as a constant torment.

Hermione tilted her head, closing her eyes in concentration, and Severus felt her pulling on the grounding of the elders that had given her their blood to assist her connection to as close to humanity as the Sang ever were. Severus figured there were some Sang far more human than the humans they came from originally. Much like mortals—there were exemplary individuals as well as those who were right menaces to all things living or undead.

Severus mused that if it were a different world where those that had become the Sang Council were powerful, warmongering, megalomaniacs that the society they had built would never have happened. It would be a fearful world where chaos reigned, and everyone listened to those more powerful while trying to get away with what they could. The Sang Council, thankfully, had long ago realised that life was far less dramatic when they didn't have to watch their back every minute.

But they usually stayed well out of mortal business.

The Dark Lord Voldemort had been a mortal issue—until Sanguini was captured while saving some of their people from subjugation.

And then there was him—

Enslaved to his desire to attain Lily's favour, thinking she was the brightest memory in his entire life.

It was a lie.

And Hermione—had cured it.

But until he self-Turned, he would be at risk outside the Undead Nation—and that was turning out to be problematic. It was overdue. Lord Nikolai said he still had a few years before it was truly "strange," but Severus had expected with all the stresses he'd gone though that a self-Turn would have already happened.

Somehow, however, he hadn't.

But all of that would have to wait until the war was well and truly over. Even with Tom Riddle exposed and dealt with—the core of the people he'd riled up remained, and they were angry still.

Very angry.

Without Voldemort to keep them in check, what was left was a nightmare of power mongering idiots with more wand than sense. And if the tortures that had caught Lily and Potter were any indicator, Severus realised the type of people Voldemort had wanted beside him were murderous sociopaths at the very least.

Or werewolves.

The Sang had a very low opinion of werewolves who took no responsibility for themselves on moon nights. They were allowed in the Undead Nation, but they were required to check into safe places on moon nights. No exceptions. With or without potion.

Because the Council knew that it only took one miss of the potion at the wrong time for everything to go pear shaped.

While it didn't affect the Sang, it did affect the Kindred that shared the Nation with them, and the Kindred were treasured folk that lived, worked, and enjoyed the society they had together. They were also most likely to harbour someone that could be a vampire's mate.

Not that Severus had found one—in between being infatuated, guilt-ridden, and utterly ensnared by two masters benches he was even twenty five. For a child of a vampire he was still a baby, but he just felt like an idiot. He had chosen the path of independence. He did not take the memories through the blood, instead choosing to learn everything the hard way, learning everything as a mortal.

It wasn't frowned on by any means, but there were times when he felt like a little left behind. His father had the knowledge built on lifetimes of experience, his mother at least a lifetime, and even Hermione had countless lifetimes of magic and knowledge pooling within her body—even if she was taking time to use it.

He couldn't imagine having all that at his beck and call so quickly. He figured that was why the Council was quite willing to temper the flood with their control to keep her from becoming like a rampaging Erumpent in a bookstore.

In so many ways, Hermione was remarkably bright, brilliant, and brimming over with the kind of compassion that belied her floating hoarfrost. She was a Dementor with a heart of gold, one that could heal bodies as well as devour souls. He couldn't help but think that she made his fixation on Lily pale in comparison.

Still—no one, not even Potter, deserved to suffer a lifetime of torture because of their stupidity. Death was a final, immutable end, and those that tried to cheat it found themselves often paying a price they could not have fathomed until the collector came knocking.

He was able to come to terms with this reality much more easily now that his brain wasn't bogged down with both obsession and jealousy over winning Lily's favour.

Hermione ran her hand over both James and Lily, and Severus recognised the same gesture from Lord Nikolai when scanning for abnormalities in the body. Blue-white fire leaked from her eyes as her hoarfrost extended, and her fingers twitched as she seemed to gather threads of magic and move them from one place to another.

Grandfather floated behind her, gently guiding her arm when he saw something significant to Dementors that may have gotten lost with the varying layers of "human" senses. Hermione relaxed into his guidance, trusting him as she trusted the Council—even those like him.

She had no reason not to. Despite eating the souls of some of the most depraved individuals around, she herself had no memory of betrayal to taint her own personal journey. That she could separate herself from such things truly amazed him. It had been hard for him to not hold on to a few grudges over even some admittedly petty things.

It warmed something inside him to see her work. Her gentle, caring touch stirred something deep within him that he couldn't quite identify. It encouraged him to shake off the echoes of his memories of Lily and—

Move on?

Live?

He wasn't sure.

Having her help him build the new apothecary in between her lessons and share in his life had changed something inside him, hinting toward a life that be his, if only he could pull his head out of his arse.

As Hermione's hoarfrost trickled over their skin, James' flayed skin seemed to release the Dark curse about them, and Grandfather's hand pulled the tendrils of magic toward him as one would wrap spaghetti on a fork. He guided it into a vessel charmed to hold such magic for the healers to analyse later, and Severus realised just how much all of the Dementors were learning about how the world spun around them.

Their bodies were healing.

Without the curse lingering around them like a bad smell.

The healers gathered around, whispering in wonder.

Severus couldn't blame them.

Their world turned on its head with the discovery that Dementors could heal. Regardless of whether it was a talent they had always had, perhaps rarely if ever used, no one had ever claimed that Dementors cared. Ever.

They were the boogeymen of many a Wizarding tale.

Even the Sang tended to treat them with a kind of wary acceptance because there was just so little known about them.

Hermione was changing that.

She shared with the elders just as she shared with the Dementors in her "family." And with that knowledge, their shared power grew—a benefit for not only the Sang but the Dementors as well.

Isn't that what we all want? Severus thought to himself. To be understood?

It was then, however, that Hermione's hand suddenly stopped. Her brows furrowed, her hoarfrost increasing. The Dementors gathered around her more tightly.

Concern?

Or was it hunger?

Their eyes snapped open, and James and Lily both leapt out of bed.

"YOU LITTLE BITCH! YOU'RE RUINING EVERYTHING!"

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Severus' head snapped around in time to see a bright wolf Patronus launching itself at the Dementors, and all of them shrieked in shared agony as the Patronus savagely tore into them.

Hermione, however, was pinned to the floor by James and Lily, both had their hands around her neck, their eyes vacant—controlled.

"You must have the best bloody luck, Snape," Lupin snarled at him. Getting rid of you was my ticket to freedom! A world where werewolves didn't have to cower in the dark! A world where we didn't have to lock ourselves up because we would be FREE. The Dark Lord promised us freedom! Freedom to do what WE wanted instead of what the bloody Ministry demanded of us! Freedom to have any job we wanted instead of begging for scraps like some kicked dog. All I had to do was get rid of the one person the Dark Lord had in my way. YOU!"

Remus' face no longer reflected the cowering, submissive follower of Potter's little gang. His thin face was twisted with the sadistic pleasure of causing pain, and Severus realised with a growing horror that Fenrir had gotten to him, right under everyone's nose.

The submission.

The grovelling.

The depressive woe-is-me behaviour—

All of it was a lie.

And suddenly Severus realised just why the Sang Council demanded absolute obedience to the law in the Nation. All werewolves had to appear to be safely locked up on moon nights. They could live perfectly normal lives the rest of the time, but if they tried even once to not report in, they were banished with all memory of the Sang wiped from their minds.

Because it wasn't about whether the werewolves would attack the Sang. It was about the Kindred, the people that lived there with them. It wasn't that they were lesser. It was that they were human, and humans were only as good as the reflexes they had and the tools they could make and use. None of which were ready for bloodthirsty werewolf with no self control.

Looking at Remus, Severus realised that the madness that tightly gripped Fenrir slowly seeped into those he'd bitten, and that madness grew with every shift.

"It was so easy to get Pads to lure you to the shack," Remus boasted. "Stirring up his hate was easy. He just needed a target. Barely a reason. But James just couldn't let it go. He had to go warn you. YOU! The one he hated more than anyone because you always hung around with HER!"

Remus cracked his neck, and Severus couldn't miss the wild, feral glint in his eyes. The kind of look that in a vampire meant someone was about to become food. The kind of look that caused the heads of Line to pull on the power like a leash and bring chaos to order.

But Lupin was a werewolf—

And there was no head of a Line for werewolves. Just a self-proclaimed alpha that beat the shite out of those who didn't do exactly what they said. But Fenrir didn't keep order. He created chaos.

"But I knew the only way to get you out in the open was to break Lily out of whatever place she was hiding in. She and James were supposed to die that night. Wormtail couldn't even get that part right. At first I thought their supposed deaths would be good enough, but instead of making it easier to get to you, it put you right in the Dark Lord's good graces. You and your stupid bloody guilt. Your infatuation. So, when Lil wrote to me all desperate. Oh Remus! You have to save me! I'm stuck in this horrible place! They say it's safe, but it's a prison! You have to help me!"

Remus' imitation of Lily was not flattering in the least. It was almost too accurate.

"I sent them the cloak he'd left in my safe keeping—" Remus snorted. "They fucked that up. I ended up sending them a Portkey transfigured into a leg band on an owl. Apparently Lily was so excited that she ripped open the package and they both arrived at the little welcoming party we'd arranged for them. Left their little babe all alone—wherever they were. Even through torture she couldn't say where she'd been. Tch. No fun at all."

Remus' expression darkened. "Even after I flayed James right in front of her, she just turned into a sobbing wreck. Whatever protected her was bloody good, I'll give them that, but she just had to be free. She always wanted things her way. It was so easy to rile her up. Stoke her selfish desires. She was just as easy to manipulate as Sirius. And James—pfft—he'd go anywhere she wanted. She had her hands wrapped around his balls. Just a little tickle or a tug, and he'd follow her right into hell."

Remus smiled at him, and it was not a nice one. "She tested her little infatuation spell on you, you know. I taught it to her. It was glorious. She tweaked it until it was perfect, and then she used it as her ticket to greatness. It was so easy. No one ever expected I would do such a thing. Not me. I have a Patronus. A thing of light and purity. I couldn't possibly do such a thing."

"So, I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Snape," Remus said smugly. "I'm going to have these fine bastions of the light murder their team of healers—" he pointed to the group of healers cowering in the corner, bound by magic. "Then, they're going to murder you, then tragically, kill each other. But not before I have them deal with this little bitch that always seems to get in my way."

Remus kept talking, but Severus could no longer hear what he was saying. Instead, all he heard was the roar of blood in his ears. His entire body was on fire. His mouth, bloody. He'd bitten his own tongue as newborn fangs pushed out from where his old canines had been. The old ones clinked to the floor in a pool of blood.

Bright red—living blood.

His hands clenched convulsively, claws dragging against the floor as he began to stand. His eyes filled with black where the whites had once been, and his familiar black irises glowed a dark, smouldering crimson.

He wiped his hand across his mouth, spitting the blood into it, and then he called the innate magic of his newly awakened species into his hand and slammed it down onto the floor as his fingers dragged out of the blood to rapidly write a series of runes.

There was a flash of primordial magic, and the "invitation" nova-ed outward until the entire hospital became a brilliant beacon, and then he launched himself at Remus in a flash of movement so fast that he was but a blur of black robes and pale skin.

Perhaps, Lupin saw what was coming.

Perhaps, it was too fast for even him.

But Lupin managed a gurgle as Severus grabbed his head in one hand, lifted him off the ground, jerked his head to the side, and drained him to the last possible drop.

A cool and soothing touch wrapped around his back, and Severus let Remus' body drop, his body tense as blood dripped from his mouth. He turned, and Hermione looked up at him, her hand gently touching his face as her expression held such love that he could burn within its expanse. Blood streamed from his eyes, as his body jerked, and he swallowed her up into his embrace with a choking cry as all of his emotion swirled around him.

A whorl of dark plasma and mist signalled the arrival of the elder Sang, and Tobias hissed, biting his hand and practically shoving it down Remus' throat as his body still hadn't gotten the memo that he was quite bloodless—just long enough to ensure Tobias' blood made it into his body.

Sanguini snarled, and with an impressive surge of vampiric power, he freed the healers from the spells that had them bound and then used the freed power that Remus had somehow blocked and channelled it back into the dazed and confused, vacant-eyed Lily and James Potter.

As the other Lords and Ladies caged Lupin in a cocoon of magic from various cultures, James' voice rose and he yelled, "You bloody cast a FUCKING SPELL ON ME?!" he roared as Lily babbled and cried.

Lord Maksim touched James on the back of the head with his fingers, and James collapsed in a boneless heap as Lady Camille did the same to Lily, and they curled their lips simultaneously.

"We will deal with them," Lord Nikolai said coldly, his lips puckering as his eyes glowed like banked coals. "You may speak to Amelia Bones if you have—questions."

The Council called their power as one as Tobias pulled Severus and Hermione together against his body, and they all disappeared in a whorl of mist.

The healers that remained all exchanged glances as the remnants of magic righted all the furniture, mended the broken items, and even made the beds.

"What the hell just happened?!"


"On the bright side," Sanguini said as he stuck his fangs into a plump bloodfruit, "your son finally self-Turned. And he found his mate."

Tobias rubbed the space between his eyebrows. "What do we do with these—idiots?"

The Council glowered together, projecting a well-practised aura of malevolence.

The middle of the Council audience chamber stank of fresh urine.

"Now, mortals, you have a choice," Tobias announced. "We have determined that this woman's attempt to ensorcel you was not possible because you were already smitten. The feelings you had were real. However, whatever trust issues this causes is between you and your wife. Until then, mortals, your infant son Harry will remain in protective custody with Alice and Frank Longbottom, whom you saddled with your child's care upon your escape from the Nation."

"The choice before you is quite simple," Lady Isolde said. "You may remain here in the Nation and take care of your child. Separately or together, or you can leave, and those who make that choice will not be permitted to return. We have deemed it unhealthy for your son to leave our Nation as he is with a good, stable family unit, familiar with life here, and is not traumatised in any way. We would not see that ruined by drama."

"He's MY son! You have no right—"

Lord Agvardus snarled. "You gave up your right to 'your' child the moment you LEFT him obliviously playing in the park in the hands of your supposed friends with no warning whatsoever and no plan but to leave our protection. Here, he is safe, cared for, healthy, educated, and stable. What do you offer him?"

"I'm his MUM!"

"A fine one, I'm sure," Lord Rada scoffed, his expression dark.

"I wish to stay here and support my son," James decided suddenly. "And make reparations and sincere apologies to those I have blamed."

Lily shot him a dark look. "Ja—"

"You can either stay here with me and work things out while we prove ourselves worthy of having a son, or you can leave," James said bluntly. "I am very angry with you, but I am angrier with myself. Two of my best friends wanted us dead. The person I thought was the enemy tried to help us, and we ignored him. The only reason we're standing here now and not dead is because he and a Dementor saved our lives. I cannot even trust myself to know what is good or bad anymore, but I want to make things right for those we have wronged, and I want to be a father to my son."

"Very well, James Potter," Lord Gareth said. "You may go. Master Gahna will see to your—case, find you quarters, assign you some appropriate work. The rest we will deal with when we know you can handle breathing."

James grimaced and bowed. "I will do my best to prove my intentions are sincere."

"You do that, James Potter," Lord Aku said, half his mouth twisted to show a glint of fang. "For I guarantee you, there will be no third chance for you after what you've done. That we are willing to tolerate your presence here at all is a gift."

James bowed his head. "I understand."

As James left, two brutish-looking guards came in escorting Remus at the end of halberd points.

"We are here to judge the murderer and conspirator with the criminals Fenrir Greyback and Tom Riddle, one Remus Lupin," Lord Antonia announced. "His list of crimes include but are not limited to the deliberate manipulation of others to induce them to commit murder, the brain enslavement of a mortal in a way that draws unwanted attention to our Nation, the attempted murder of a member of the Undead Nation, providing unauthorised assistance to extricate persons under our protection from protected grounds, the now-known reveal of location of the Longbottoms and their child that resulted in their torture under the wands of the infamous Lestrange brothers, the manipulations of minors into committing torture and attempted murder, the participation in the violating and torture of multiple victims both minor and adult, the—"

Remus snarled and foamed at the mouth, but the manacles secured his hands behind his back, and the guards yanked them before he could. He could barely be considered sane, but there was a lucidity in his eyes that belied his actions.

"Enough," Tobias snapped. He gestured sharply with one hand and the chain behind Lupin tightened and slammed down to the ground, bringing the werewolf up short. "Your feigning of insanity is every bit as false as your pretending to be weak and fatigued. You fool no one here, mortal. Least of all, me."

Remus let out a deep chuckling laugh that seemed as though he was more hyena than man. "You cannot judge me. I am not some banal sucker you can wave your hand and cow. I am not weak. I defy you. Your laws mean less than nothing to me. My only regret is that I didn't get to infect the boy with the gift."

Lily gasped in horror at his words. Perhaps, she had managed to ignore the list of charges in her mind, but Remus was here confessing that he had wanted to bite her baby boy—and she had stupidly walked right out there and almost let him do it.

The only thing that had saved Harry was Lily's own selfish desire to be free. She'd left her own child behind in her desperate eagerness to leave the Undead Nation.

"NO!" Lily cried out. "That's not TRUE! This isn't you, this isn't RIGHT!"

"Lily, Lily, Lily," Remus said mockingly, licking his lips and smirking at the distraught witch. "You were the easiest of all to fool. The easiest to corrupt. It was so, so terribly easy. You were so good at charms. Especially the Dark ones. The enslavement charms. Hah! You were so against slavery, but you were all about testing those 'harmless' suggestions on dear old Snivellus. You were so very contradictory. Shunning the Slytherins like they were the most evil beings in all the world and then enslaving a mere boy—your supposed childhood FRIEND—into kissing your feet. How could you not see such—ah, well, I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it?"

Remus smiled toothily. "You've ruined your life far more thoroughly than I ever could. I just gave you the tools. You're the one who chose to use them."

Lily sobbed hysterically on the Council's chamber floor.

Tobias clapped slowly. "I do hope you enjoyed your little show."

"You haven't seen anything yet," Remus said smugly, suddenly biting down on something, and then he started to foam at the mouth. His jaw jutted forward, his teeth all fell out as new ones filled in the bloody gaps, jerked outward at an unnatural length and even worse unnatural shapes somewhere between beast and man. He jerked and twisted all with a look of pleasured ecstasy. He then threw himself, fangs, fur, claws and all—directly at Tobias.

"You can't fool me, Snivellus!" he snarled. "I'm going to rip to to pieces, and then I'm going to Turn your little fuck toy!"

Tobias reached out to quickly to track, his hand wrapping around the werewolf's transforming neck and squeezing hard. Remus' body twitched and thrashed in impotent rage as a deep, deep cold spread down his hand and throughout his body.

"You think our society so terribly primitive, but the greatest thing we have is love for our cherished ones—and the blood that shares the power that shares the knowledge of the ages—" Tobias' eyes glowed crimson, his claws digging into Remus' throat as his fangs lengthened. "We gave our blood to a Dementor to teach her control. She gave us hers to share her power."

The Council stood as one, surrounding Remus as they each placed a hoarfrost-covered hand upon him, their talons digging deep into his fur to the skin below. His skin began to freeze. His eyes began to bulge in horrified realisation. His legs were suddenly damp as he pissed himself—and then even that froze. They all seemed to darken and float as they neared to him and breathed in—

And Remus' soul seeped out of his mouth and then shattered into wisps that each Council member sucked in and devoured them, their eyes glowing with an added icy blue-white of the Dementor's deep cold.

Tobias let Remus' soulless, half-frozen husk fall to the floor, his body still too frozen to revert into a human form. "Your blood is too foul to take, but your soul will do. We judge you guilty of all charges, and you will be encased in moonstone and cast into the Garden of Suffering, where your screams will feed the Grief Well that eases the suffering of all who drink of it. The stone is enchanted so you will be forever trapped in a state of perpetual transformation, for your body will suffer even without a soul—and contrary to popular belief—your mind will be just aware enough to scream."

"Take him and cast him into the Garden of Suffering," Lord Maksim directed. "Be sure to make it hurt. A lot."

"Yes my Lords and Ladies," the guards said as they hoisted the frozen body of Remus up and carried him away.

The Council's eyes glowed together as their hoarfrost covered feet touched the ground and faded.

"Now, Mrs Potter," Lord Rada said, his lips a tight line of unmistakable scorn. "It is time for you to decide what fate you truly want for yourself."

"Take her," Lord Zaidu ordered. "Give her some time to ruminate on her life choices. We will summon her when we are less likely to devour her purely out of principle."

The guards nodded and dragged Lily's whimpering body out by her armpits, not even bothering to carry her.

"Do Dark souls always taste like fried chicken?" Lady Isolde enquired, running a claw across her bottom lip.

"Could explain why Dementors like to consume souls so much—" Lady Brunhild mused.

"I thought they tasted like frog legs," Lord Agvardus said, licking his lips. "Complete with drawn butter."

The other council members looked at him with concern.

"What?" Lord Agvardus demanded. "It's true! I remember the taste vividly from my youth."

Tobias pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"You even make werewolves piss themselves," Lord Marcus complained. "How do you do that?"

Tobias shrugged.

"He's always been a truly moving sort of individual," Sanguini said dryly.

"I will send the appropriate parchments to Madam Bones as to the details of what happened today," Lord Rada said. "After I brush my teeth."

The entire Council conjured minty toothbrushes and water and brushed their fangs together in solidarity.


"Lord Sanguini!" Hermione cried as she ran up to hug him, and the elder vampire returned the hug with affection.

"How are you, dear child?" Sanguini asked. "Growing into your fangs?"

Hermione made a face. "Souls are easier to eat," she said. "But Severus tastes wonderful."

Severus flushed somewhat blue-purple at the talk of his blood being tasty.

Sanguini laughed. "Your mate should always taste good," he said with a smile. "How is the apothecary coming?"

Walter was floating about arranging the shelves but paused to brush lint off Sanguini's vest.

Hermione giggled. "He likes a clean work space," she explained.

"Some of the young could learn from him," Sanguini mused. "Is your family enjoying having different jobs?"

Hermione nodded. "Grandfather loves gardening, and my uncles think patrolling the boundaries of the Nation is fun. Grandmother loves baking—I think everyone is finding new things to enjoy."

Sanguini smiled. "Now that we can understand each other better, I think more jobs will open up that suit each other's needs."

Hermione beamed. "I'm glad. They were so limited before. They always said I was the most excitement they'd had in centuries."

Sanguini laughed. "You are a true gift. Your gift to us has caused both of our species to evolve. That is well worth a little celebration all on its own. And now, Severus doesn't have to brood so loudly."

Severus shot the other vampire a look, but Sanguini only laughed.

Hermione giggled as Sanguini's Lethifold tickled her, and Walter attempted to defend her.

Sanguini shook his head. "Walter doing better after the Patronus attack?"

Hermione nodded. "He's okay. A little sleepy, but Lord Nikolai says he'll be right as rain soon enough. He says the bond between us will help. Just like the bond between Severus and I helped me heal. But—now that we share together with the Council, Patroni won't affect us like it did."

Sanguini smiled and nodded. "I'm glad. The fact a man so depraved managed a Patronus seems to speak volumes to how delusional he was. It is not—normal for one so unnaturally anchored in vile acts to be able to do such a thing."

"Grandfather says it's because the part of him that existed before he was bitten held on to a shred of his humanity, but it was a tiny, weak voice surrounded in corruption. It was more of a memory. A hold out—but it was no longer him."

Severus sighed. "I think he was so used to playing the part of the person people thought he was, it kept that little memory of being a decent person alive. A hold out just enough for the Patronus to take form. As twisted as a werewolf eventually becomes—usually they can be free of it the rest of the time. But Fenrir—he encourages that insanity. He wants the unstable mind that stokes the monster within. It is not a wolf, truly. It is far worse. A true wolf knows no such brutal dominance alpha male violence. A wolf pack is a family. Each member is important. What Fenrir wanted was a kingship. He was a dictator. That was human. What they were—what they became—were true monsters. Even more so than what most consider the Sang purely out of principle."

"Or Dementors," Hermione said, hugging herself with Walter. "Just the name itself is—demeaning."

The two Lethifolds seemed to come to a compromise at last, both flomped together in a cuddle pile on Hermione's back.

Hermione gave Sanguini a rather desperate look.

Sanguini shrugged. "Lethifolds do what they want regardless of what we think."

Sanguini wrinkled his nose and then itched it with one clawed finger. "Now that this war business is taken care of, I was thinking you could open up a shop in Hogsmeade. You would have a corner market on all things apothecary of a custom nature as J. Pippin's Potions tends to stick with what sells normally for the more common, ahem, ailments of a traditional nature for mortals. I figure you could make quite a name for yourself there. You could also pick up that rather nice contract with Hogwarts brewing their medicinal potions of a more exotic nature without stepping on Pippin's Potions' toes."

Severus' eyes widened.

"Of course, we would expect you to do your best to employ those from our Kindred who are appropriately talented," Sanguini said. "Seeing as we footed the bill on the property."

Sanguini dangled the key from his fingers.

Hermione's eyes brightened and she broke into a vibrant smile as she looked at Severus.

Severus, whose eyes were comically wide, could only silently nod in affirmative. After a minute, he swallowed and said, "Thank you, I think—that would be wonderful."


The doorbell jingled, and Hermione looked about in a panic, her arms full of product crates.

"I'll get it," Severus said, placing a tender kiss upon her temple.

Hermione looked at him gratefully as she continued her organisation, and Severus walked around the door to the storefront, leaving Hermione and the busy Kindred workers to work their organisational magic.

"How may I assist you?"

"I'm here for—I need—"

Severus raised a brow.

"Can I start again?"

Severus puckered his lips.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you," Sirius apologised. "It was—pretty horrible."

Severus took in a deep breath and furrowed his brows. "As I understand it, you were not exactly fully to blame."

"But I was at least partly to blame," Sirius said with a sigh. "And for that stupid bigotry—the reflection of my family I'd thought I was trying not to be—I am—sorry."

Severus sighed. "You were as manipulated as the rest of us, Black. I cannot say it didn't leave scars, but they are scars I will live with rather than be dead. I—accept your—sorry," he said a bit awkwardly, his usual verbal eloquence having stuttered and fallen flat on its face.

Sirius seemed to exhale in relief. "My healer gave me this prescription," he said awkwardly. "He said no one else made it right, and if I tried to buy cheaper from somewhere else, I'd end up regretting it."

Severus took the parchment and read it over carefully. "Ah, the Mind Soothe. It requires powdered Lethifold teeth. Using cheaper substitutions will not end well for you."

"Lethifold—fuck me," Sirius cursed. "Where the hell do you get those?"

"Just have to catch one during allergy season," Severus said, deadpan. "They sneeze their shed teeth everywhere."

Sirius stared at him. "So you just go to the rainforest and find a sneezy carnivorous cloak?"

"It's a lot easier than you might think," Severus said with a straight face as Walter floated by and bit Sirius on the arse in passing.

Sirius whirled, startled, but Walter was already gone.

"I think I'm losing my mind. I could swear something just bit me," Sirius said as he rubbed his sore bum.

"Might as well sit down. This will take about an hour to brew, and we do not make it ahead of time because it requires a freshly plucked hair from the person it's meant for," Severus explained.

Sirius was looking a little woozy. "Okay."

Severus plucked a hair casually. "Excellent. Have a seat."

A comfy chair appeared right under Black, and he fell into it and began to snore rather loudly.

Severus lifted a brow and walked around to the storage area in the back. "Potter, did you just bribe my wife's Lethifold to bite Black on the arse?"

James gave him a slow side-eye while he was shelving stock. "Maybe, boss."

"Hn," Severus muttered as he went down into the door to the brewing laboratory. "Give him an extra ham hock."

James grinned ear-to-ear as he replaced the stock for Long Night Wizards' Tonic. "Yes, sir!"


"Snape okay with you leaving, mate?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, he gave me the night off to catch up," James said as he sipped his cuppa as they waited for their food.

"That—I'm kinda still wrapping my mind around him being a really decent bloke," Sirius said with a sigh. "I know my brain was whammied by that arsehole, but—it's still bloody hard to accept."

"Took me a while too," James admitted. "Harry is like a big brother to Irene. They are like two peas in a pod. Three peas if you count Neville."

"Frank and Alice—okay?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah, mate," James said with a smile. "They're better than okay. They're expecting another child pretty soon. Frank has a good job as a freelance investigator. Alice has a real green thumb for Herbology, so she's happily working in the gardens. They're staying tucked away from most of the Wizarding World. After what happened to them, I can't really blame them."

"I'm still trying to get over you working for Sn—Severus," Sirius said, rubbing the back of his neck.

James chuckled. "Took me a while too," he confessed. "But—we were all totally bamboozled, Pads. We had to relearn what reality was. That mind tonic you take was actually Hermione's idea. Severus' m—wife. They created it for me to help calm my shite down."

"I won't even ask how they managed to think of Lethifold teeth as a key ingredient. Man has some big brass balls trying to wrangle those," Sirius said.

"He's a lot stronger than we ever gave him credit for," James said soberly. "Trust me, he's one to have at your back, not squaring off against you. What we did—we did four to one with him basically crippled by Lily, so in a way it was more like five to one. If we were to do that now, he'd wipe the bloody floor with us all. There is—a lot of his father in him."

"The Muggle?" Sirius asked, clearly sceptical.

"No, his father is anything but Muggle," James said. "Trust me on that, mate."

"I saw something the other day that made me realise that I really needed to fill that prescription."

"Oh?" James said, looking curious. "What?"

The kids from Hogwarts were visiting while I was delivering a shipment of empty kegs to old Aberforth. Like a little row of ducklings. Saw Lily bringing up the back." Sirius shook his head. "Meant to catch up to her, but she zipped into the Hog's Head. Saw her all wrapped up in a great pile of shawls and getting knackered in the back corner. I was so stunned I couldn't even give her a piece of my mind. Probably better for that, though. I might have said some things that would have had her drinking even more than what she was, and she did have to bring the students back to the castle."

"She must be using one of those alteration potions," James mused.

"Pardon?" Sirius asked, confused.

"The cheap ones from that place down the way," James said, pointing his thumb down the street. "They only work if you're drunk the moment you drink them."

Sirius coughed. "What?"

"Seriously, mate, I can't even make this shite up," James said. "I've learned a lot working for Severus. "But she's probably altering her looks, and seeing as how you recognised her, it was likely wearing off, so she had to go get drunk again to take the next dose. That's what you get for using cheap ingredients over quality."

"Let me guess, Snape makes a better one," Sirius said.

"Of course," James said with a laugh. "It works longer, you don't have to be drunk to take it, but you also have to pay for it. Main ingredient is a scale from one of those rare rainbow chameleons from that magical island across the pond. They don't come cheap."

"Blimey," Sirius muttered. "How does he get ahold of it?"

James laughed. "Hermione and her family are really good at finding rare or hidden things."

"I'm glad you're doing alright, Prongs," Sirius said. "I might be messed up, but I feel like you were the worst off of us. You married her."

"Ah—I wouldn't give up Harry for a redo," James admitted. "He's the one great thing that came out of it. He's a great kid. Bit too much like me. Has his mum's eyes, but—I really loved her. They said that spell never took on me because I was truly in love with her. She did it all for nothing, but in the end we found out her true colours and our own."

"Moony had us all eating right out of his paw," Sirius said bitterly. "We all became Animagi to be there for him. Thought we were doing him this great favour. He was just playing us, hoping we'd fuck up and he'd get to bite people. Sheer, dumb luck as old McGonagall would say. We had a lot of it."

The two mates sat in silence for some time until their food arrived.

"Let's not let them steal any more from us, Pads," James invited. "Come over sometime and meet Harry."

Sirius sipped his butterbeer and nodded. "Yeah, I think I will."

Thump.

Severus dropped the wrapped crate of Sirius' potions in front of him and a leather pouch in front of James. "Your potions, Black," he said with a sniff. He turned to James. "Take your son out for some ice cream before he eats my nightshade."

Harry squealed joyfully and pounced James' leg.

James grimaced. "Sorry, boss."

Severus waved his hand. "Consider it payback. You get to watch Irene tonight. Neville came down with a prize case of the Sneezing Doxies. I know you had it as a kid, so you're safe from turning purple and randomly levitating out windows."

James blinked. "Thank the gods for that." He smiled as Irene clung tightly to his other leg. "Thanks for the night off, boss. 'Preciate it."

Severus sniffed. "You did good this week with all the horrid last minute rushes. Enjoy your long weekend. Black." He tilted his head and left in a flutter of black robes.

"Does he practise that?" Sirius asked, frowning slightly. "I swear he billows against gravity."

James snorted. "You should see his father. No, on second thought, no, you don't want to meet him. You'd probably piss your pants too."

"Wait does this mean you—" Sirius trailed off.

"Yes, and you won't speak of it again," James demanded.

Sirius splayed his hands in surrender.


Severus closed his eyes as Hermione floated over to him and slid into bed against him. Her aura of hoarfrost tickled his skin, and he smiled.

"Did you saddle poor James with our spawn?" Hermione murmured into his chest.

"Maybe," Severus said. "I never thought I'd say this, but he's a good worker and a trustworthy babysitter."

Hermione chuckled. "Maybe we're all more than we appear at first glance. Humans, vampires, Dementors, Lethifolds and all."

Severus caressed her cheek. "I think you're right." He pulled her against him and then pulled Walter around them both. "I love you."

Hermione snuggled into him. "I love you too."

"I cannot imagine my life without you in it," Severus said softly, pressing his nose into her curls.

"I can imagine a life without you," Hermione said, her palm touching his cheek. "It would be so lonely. Horrible. Empty. If it hadn't been for the Council, I would never have known how to communicate this feeling. If it wasn't for you, I would have never known what loneliness was and would be living in that loneliness thinking it was perfectly normal."

Severus kissed her forehead. "You need never be alone again. I think you and your unique family—I hope they have all found peace in life."

Hermione smiled. "I know they have," she said.

Severus engaged his mate in a passionate kiss, and he descended upon her with a hungry growl as Hermione surrendered to the all encompassing love of her mate.


Deep within the bowels of Tartarus, Hades walked with his beloved wife at his side. In his footsteps, obsidian and ores grew in each step. Where his wife walked, molten flowers and vines grew in her wake. A shrieking, sobbing scream pierced the air, and Cerberus' ears flattened against his head as he growled in annoyance.

Hades patted the huge hound on his heads.

"What did she do again?" Persephone asked with a frown.

"She sacrificed her newborn daughter to Dementors hoping they would eat her soul and free her of the burden and annoyance of unwanted motherhood," Hades said.

"That lovely child in the scrying mirror?" Persephone asked.

"The same," Hades agreed.

"Well, she never learned the very first rule," Perhsephone said, smiling as she pat Cerberus' multiple affection-seeking heads.

"Oh, and what would that be?" Hades asked his cryptic wife.

"Life finds a way," she said with a smile.

"You're an insufferable romantic," Hades complained.

Persephone placed a kiss on his cheek. "You love me."

Hades dipped his head to kiss his wife and queen. "I do."

The pair continued their walk through Tartarus, as Bellatrix was trapped inside a room where every side was a screen that displayed the peaceful lives of Muggles and magicals living together in peace and harmony under the watchful eyes of the Sang Council. One screen, however, was reserved for the very long and loving life of the daughter she had attempted to sacrifice in the loving arms of her mate as their child grew and flourished.

The scene pulled back to show the goblins bowing as they opened the Lestrange vault to them as her daughter was the last surviving Lestrange—

Snape tilted back his head and laughed as her wretched daughter's eyes grew wide in astonishment. Snape spun her around gleefully as the scene faded to black.

The scene changed to the Snape family donating funds from the goblin sale of a wide array of artefacts from the Lestrange vaults to Hogwarts to improve their Muggle Studies courses, signing over the fund to Minerva McGonagall as the fiduciary of the account designated for the sole purpose of bridging the gap between the Muggle and magical worlds.

Bellatrix tore at her hair, ripping it out at the roots as she screamed in impotent outrage, but her hair only grew back. She tried to gouge out her own eyes, but they resisted any and all attempts to destroy them. She sobbed as every attempt to end the tormenting visions failed and she was forced to watch the happy life she had unintentionally set into motion.


And in mortal years, one Lily Potter, covered head-to-toe in protective shawls and bug-eyed glasses that distorted her face as the odour of sherry tainted her breath, saw the bright, healthy face of a mop-haired young wizard get sorted into Slytherin, taking his place along with his best mates, Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy.

Lily sniffled, wailing inconsolably at the head table, and Minerva tutted, throwing her napkin at her. "Pull yourself together, professor!"

And a year later, when young Irene Snape joined her friends in Slytherin House, Lily fled the Great Hall and locked herself up in the Divination Tower, calling doom and destruction down upon any and all who crossed her path.

"She's so weird!" the students all giggled.

And for the next seven years, Lily would rarely leave her tower.

Not that many noticed or cared.

Time moved on—without Lily Potter.

And her son grew up and became a fine young Auror who never gave a thought to the mum he couldn't remember. Instead, he had happy memories of growing up with the Longbottoms and his father—his father who had found love again, remarried, and now Harry had a little sister, Sarah, who he adored and spoiled rotten every chance he got.

But no place in the Wizarding World welcomed "Lily Potter" and perhaps even less so "Lily Evans—the infamous witch who cast Dark magic on her friends." The Muggle world held no interest for her, for there she had to face her sneering sister, Petunia, and Vernon Dursley, her overbearing brute of a husband.

So as Hermione grew in life and love, leaving a life of loneliness behind, Lily pulled more tightly into herself and descended into a miserable existence of dark abandonment and increasingly questionable sanity.

But the fate of one Lily Potter quickly faded into drunken obscurity as the barmy witch who taught Divination at Hogwarts, never able to leave its protective walls.

She had desperately wished for freedom, but in the end, she chose a living death, but unlike the vampires who lived despite their species' unique condition, hers was a torment self-made.

As Lily stared off into the distance from her tower, she drank her bottle of sherry with a trembling hand, totally unaware of the stealthy litter of mischievous babyfolds pushing her collection of crystal balls down the stairs. When she went to chase after them, she cursed to herself and any who would listen, gathering them up and carrying them back up to her classroom.

When she returned to her sherry, she tilted the bottle back to drink—

Only it was inexplicably frozen solid, an aura of deep hoarfrost emitting from the bottle with a biting cold.

Lily's impotent scream of fury was drowned out by a chorus of hissing babyfold giggles as a Dementor scooped them up in its arms and faded away into a column of mist.


And they lived Dementor-ly ever after…with babyfolds.

(Squeak giggle, rustle rustle)