Snape's Son

by befoulmetalroosa

Summary:

Severus gets some unexpected news that changes everything

Chapter 1

"H…he's my son," Severus murmured, the letter in his hand falling to the floor. "I would never have known if the letter hadn't have been sent to me anonymously. I will need to thank her for her help." Bending, Lucius picked up the missive, eyebrows permanently in his hairline as he read:

Snape, you unmitigated bastard;

I know that this will come as a shock to you; it certainly was to me. Harry is your son. He was conceived the night you raped me in front of your precious Dark Lord. When I was finally released, I went home and made love to my husband to erase the feel of you from my skin and body. I grit my teeth the entire time and wouldn't let James touch me again. That, too is your fault. Nine months later Harry was born and he looked so much like James and I that I was relieved. After all I had been through, to know that my son wouldn't be blemished by your filthy blood was a blessing.

Unfortunately the routine blood tests at his first well-baby appointment told the bitter truth. He is your son. When we went into hiding, I wanted desperately to let someone else bear the responsibility for protecting the 'prophecy child'. I didn't want the spawn of my rapist anywhere near me. But then Sirius volunteered to switch places with Pettigrew as secret keeper and I saw my way out of it. Yes, I knew Pettigrew was one of his. I happened to see his Dark Mark by accident one day and began to plot from that moment on.

So I will ensure that we are home when your Dark Lord comes calling, and I will make sure to step out of the way when he's set to kill the abomination. If I can save my life and be free of both you and James, I will be a happy woman. I hope you can live with the thought that because of your actions, you've condemned that thing to death. You've condemned a good man to death. And you've condemned me to a life of suffering and pain. May you rot in hell and may your demon spawn burn for eternity for the misery he's caused me.

"I don't understand, Severus," Lucius finally said, confused. "I was led to believe that Potter survived the killing curse because of his mother's love. Here it emphatically states that her love did nothing for him; that she was willing to sacrifice him to save herself. That she hated the very air he breathed. So if that's the case, how did he survive?"

"I do not know, Lucius," the Potions Master answered sadly. He mourned for the treatment his son had received from birth and vowed to take him in and protect him from here on out. "I can only speculate, and until I do research that is all I have. I assume that the Dark magic that ties us to the Dark Lord was somehow passed to my son through blood. We Dark practitioners know how powerful blood magic is and I can only assume that the magic that binds us to him also protects us from death by his wand. To that end, when my seed impregnated her it carried some of that Dark magic and protected my son as well."

"That's entirely possible Severus. What will you do now that you know?"

"I will approach the Dark Lord for permission to bring him here and raise him to our ways. He's already suffered at the hands of that bitch's harridan of a sister, and I do not wish him to suffer any longer."

"How do you know where he's at?" Lucius asked, confused.

"Though the letter was sent anonymously, I recognize the handwriting of Mrs. Arabella Figg on the envelope. She's one of Dumbledore's pigeons and was put in my son's neighborhood to watch over him. Potter's bitch must've given the letter to her to give to me when the time was right. Probably after the child was murdered and she was safely out of my reach. Something horrible must be happening to my son for Figg to send the letter."

"Very well," Lucius replied, nodding. "You go get your permission and I will take you to get your son afterward. We will go to the Wizengamot and have his care turned over to you. We will summon a Malfoy family Healer to do the required blood tests and take the tests and this letter to the Wizengamot as proof."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The insistent pounding on the door startled the occupants. "Boy!" Petunia screeched as she stomped back to the cupboard under the stairs. She flung it open, pointing a rigid finger at the front door. "See who's there and send them away!" She stormed into the kitchen, leaving the six-year-old to crawl out of his cupboard and walk to the door. Standing on his toes, he reached the doorknob and turned it with both hands, tugging and huffing until the heavy door swung open. His eyes widened slightly at the tall dark man and tall blond man standing on the stoop before he bowed his head.

"Please go 'way," the boy murmured softly. "We not 'specting vis'tors." The dark head snapped up as movement from the corner of his eye startled him and emerald eyes widened, watching with shock as the man in front knelt down before him.

"I'm not a visitor, Harry. I am your father."

"Really and for true?" the boy gasped, tears shimmering in the corners of his eyes.

"Yes. Really and for true. I've come to take you home with me."

"Good riddance," a hugely fat man said from the doorway leading to what looked like a living room. "Never wanted the freak in the first place." Dark eyes narrowed at the slur to his son and Severus whipped out his wand as he stood, glaring at the fat whale of a muggle.

"If you do not wish to lose your tongue, I would suggest holding it muggle. Now Harry," he turned back to the little boy, his wand never wavering from Vernon's face, "go get your things and we can leave."

"I don't got nothin'," the boy said sadly, head hanging. Ebon eyes grew frosty at this statement and Severus turned his attention back to Vernon. Petunia came down the hall at that moment, scowling fiercely.

"Honestly, boy, can't you do anything right?" She raised her arm, hand flat to slap the child but Vernon dived forward, grabbing her wrist before her hand could connect.

"D…don't, Pet," the fat man said beseechingly, terrified eyes on the Potions Master. "This nice freak was just about to take the boy away for good." Twin growls were ignored as Petunia's eyes turned to Severus, then widened comically.

"You," she spat venomously. "I remember seeing you skulking about our neighborhood. Never thought you were one of them, though. Go on. Take the little beast. Good riddance, I say." She unknowingly mirrored her husband's words but was oblivious to the rage her slurs had invoked.

"Perussi magis," Severus hissed, pointing his wand at Petunia. Before the spell light had faded from around her form, he pointed it at Vernon, hissing, "Perussi minor." The woman hissed at Severus, and he swiveled his wand back to her.

"Do not make me curse you worse, Petunia," he snarled. "Do not make me curse your spawn, though I would love nothing more than to do it. You would deserve nothing less for your abysmal treatment of MY SON!"

"He most certainly is not your son," she sniffed, rethinking her words. "He is the spawn of my disgusting sister and her good for nothing husband. Animals, the lot of you."

"He is my son and I have the blood tests to prove it." Severus brandished the medical report, faked to look like it was done by a muggle laboratory that Severus had found in a phone book and Petunia's eyes widened again.

"So my sainted sister wasn't as pristine as she'd led everyone else to believe. This is just priceless. Take that thing and get out of my sight. Never darken my doorstep again." She turned back down the hallway, returning to the kitchen and the lunch preparation that had been interrupted.

"Audite recubo ex verum, sentio poena quod dedecus, patior incohare poena," Severus hissed as several beams of light flew from his wand. She never saw the spells cast at her. Vernon saw them however, and closed his eyes. Can't say she didn't have it coming, he thought, relieved that the freak had stopped pointing its stick at him. Never did know when to keep that acid tongue in check. Ah, well. Nothing for it, I suppose. Still, I don't think their freakishness can affect us all that much. After all, we're not like them. Disgusting beasts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They quickly arrived at the Ministry by portkey. Harry had touched the plastic bottle along with Lucius and Severus and was now nearly strangling the Potions Master in his fear and discomfort. Severus quickly calmed the child, rubbing soothing circles into his back as they entered the phone booth. Lucius dialed M-A-G-I-C on the keypad and a friendly voice erupted from the phone.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Who is visiting and what is your purpose here?"

"Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and…" Turning to Severus a blond brow quirked. "What is his name, Sev?"

"I was always partial to the name Crispin. Crispin Severus Snape." Nodding, the blond turned back to the phone.

"Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, and Crispin Snape. Here to see the Wizengamot."

"Thank you and enjoy your visit." Three name tags popped out of the phone and Lucius took them, handing two to the Snapes as he pinned the third to his cloak. The booth jerked as it lowered into the sidewalk, dropping down into the Atrium where it opened to allow the three occupants out. Striding quickly, Severus and Lucius stopped at the wand check desk, handing over their wands to be identified. Crispin had buried his face in his father's neck, the long dark hair hiding him from view, and had stayed there.

Patting the boy gently on the back, Severus tightened his hold around his son as they retrieved their wands and strode to the first empty lift. They descended to level two where the Wizengamot administrative offices were located. Striding down the hall, the men stopped before the door, tapping on it gently before opening it. The receptionist looked up curiously, eyes widening slightly on Malfoy before smiling. "May I help you gentlemen?"

"We are here to speak to a Wizengamot representative about the transfer of care of a child," Lucius explained with a small smile.

"That would be Berrie Navient. She is in office number four."

"Thank you, Miss Dellzole." The men walked to office number four, tapping on the closed door gently.

"Come in," an elderly voice called and the men walked into the office, closing the door quietly behind them. Turning, they were barely able to hang on to their Slytherin masks. Behind the desk sat quite possibly the oldest witch either man had ever seen. She looked to be at least a hundred sixty, with wispy white hair and faded brown eyes. Her smile looked like just another wrinkle in a face creased with them. "What can I do for you gentlemen today?" she asked kindly, her teeth flashing blindingly in the light. Severus stepped forward and sat in the indicated chair. Lucius sat on a sofa along the wall and closer to the door to give Severus and the agent a semblance of privacy.

"I'm here to transfer the care of this child from Petunia and Vernon Dursley to myself." Ms. Navient quickly dug out the proper forms and a dictaquill, setting it to the form.

"Why are you requesting the transfer of care?" she asked, sounding very professional and impartial.

"I've recently discovered that he is my son." Severus leaned forward and placed Lily Potter's letter on the woman's desk. She read quickly through it, then gasped and read it again more slowly. At the venom expressed for the child, she scowled and her face nearly disappeared in the wrinkles.

"Who placed him with the…the…Dimleys?" A quiet snort from the vicinity of the door had the woman blushing in embarrassment.

"No," Severus gently corrected, voice quivering with laughter. "The Dursleys. And that would be Albus Dumbledore."

"By what authority did he have to place an orphaned child with anyone?" she asked sharply.

"I know not," Severus replied. "All I was told was that he would be placed with his mother's muggle relatives; that he would be safe and protected there under blood wards erected based on his mother's love sacrifice."

"It says here that she was willing to stand aside and let the Dark Lord kill her son. There was no love sacrifice evident. So the child was vulnerable from the moment he was placed there."

"That is correct," Lucius concurred from his perch. "Had the protections taken hold, it would only have kept anyone from the outside from doing him harm. It did nothing to protect him from his relatives."

"What do you mean?" Ms. Navient asked sharply. Crispin flinched at the sound of the angry voice and started trembling. Severus murmured and soothed his son, shooting a telling look to the woman behind the desk. She nodded and softened her tone. "May I speak with him?" At Severus' nod, she smiled, waiting for the Potions Master to turn the child around so she could see his face. "Oh, my," she whispered softly. "He's a beautiful child."

"Thank you, Ms. Navient."

"Well, I'd like to ask you a few questions if I may, Harry?"

"Before we continue, may I make a request?" Severus interrupted gently. She nodded her permission and he continued. "Harry is the name given to him by his mother and the man she married. Had I been aware that he was my son, I would've named him Crispin Severus. If it is permissible, I would like all records to reflect that name, including his birth record, expunging all traces of Potter."

"I will see that it's done immediately," she replied, smiling fondly at the Potions Master. She looked back at his son and her smile widened. "You are a lovely boy and so well mannered. Now, just a few questions and we'll get this mess straightened out. How old are you?"

Crispin hesitated for a moment, not sure how to answer. At whispered encouragement from his father, he finally said, "I'm six." He held up five fingers and Severus chuckled lightly, pushing up his other hand and curling all fingers but one into a fist.

"That's six." Crispin grinned at his dad, emerald eyes sparkling happily at the gentleness.

"I'm six," the boy continued, looking at the woman.

"Very good. Could you please stand for me? I need to get some basic measurements for our files." The child stood on the floor and the woman frowned at his stature. "Small for his age, isn't he?" she murmured softly. She quickly scanned him with her wand, frowning when she read the slip of paper that spat out of the end of it. Scowling, she picked up another quill and jotted down the information onto a separate piece of parchment then looked back at up at the child. "How often were you fed, Crispin?" she asked gently. Severus scowled darkly at the question, eyes sharp on the woman. She nodded imperceptibly as she looked at the boy.

"I was only 'llowed to eat what was left when they was done," he said.

"Did they have a lot of leftovers?"

"No. They only left what they din't like."

"I see." She jotted some more information onto the parchment. "Did they ever punish you?"

"All the time," the child whispered, tears forming in his eyes.

"How did they punish you?"

"Unka Vernon hit me with his belt. Sometimes with his hand all balled up. Once, when I burnt the bacon, Aunt 'tunia hit me with the hot pan. They locked me in the cubbyhole under the stairs when they din't want to see me."

"Did you ever go see a Healer?"

"What's that?" the boy asked curiously.

"Oh, you probably know them as doctors. Did you ever go see a doctor?"

"No. Unka Vernon said it was a waste of money to take a freak like me to the doctor."

"You've never been vaccinated?"

"No."

"Did you attend school?"

"Only when I din't show booboos from my punishments."

"I think I have more than enough information, Mr. Snape." She was beyond furious and the men could feel her magic pulsing with her rage. "By the end of business today custody will be given over to you, and his name change will be recorded as well. We are unable to bring the muggles up on charges of child abuse, as the treaties between their government and ours prohibits it, but I would love nothing more than to…" She glanced at Crispin and saw the shock in the boy's eyes. She quickly got her temper under control. "We will need to revisit this in six months' time to see how the child is faring. Congratulations, Mr. Snape. It's a boy."

Notes:

Translations:

perussi magis- to eat more; overeat

perussi minor- to eat less

audite recubo ex verum- hear ye the lie from the truth; she will always hear the truth as lie

sentio poena quod dedecus- I feel pain and shame

patior incohare poena- experience enduring punishment; she will feel everything Harry felt while he was there

Chapter 2

Gringotts was the next stop; both men were anxious to get the child home before anyone could see or recognize him. Glamours would not cover the scar; however, since Crispin was terrified of this new strange world, he kept his face buried in his father's neck the entire time.

"We need to see the manager," Severus murmured to the goblin behind the counter. The being scowled darkly at the wizards for interrupting him before replying.

"Name?" he barked harshly, making the boy in Snape's arms flinch.

"Severus Snape," the Potions Master replied, glaring at the goblin for scaring his son. The being behind the counter was unimpressed.

"Lucius Malfoy," the blond next to him said, one eyebrow arched menacingly. At Malfoy's words, the teller quickly changed his attitude, calling over Griphook, who led the men and child to a large, well appointed office with the name Ragnok on the door.

"Please sit, gentlemen," the large being said, eyes on the paperwork on his desk. After a few seconds, he looked at the wizards, face carefully blank. "I've received the paperwork from the Ministry granting custody of one Crispin Severus Snape to Severus Tobias Snape."

"That is correct," the Potions Master replied with a nod.

"I assume you are here to see about the inheritances?"

"I am," Severus agreed. "I would like to know if the vaults and properties will still be my son's, since it was verified that he is not James Potter's progeny."

"He will still have the blood of his mother and, as she was a Potter at the time of her death, all properties will go to her son."

"Say Lily Potter isn't dead," Lucius asked, playing devil's advocate for a moment. The goblin scowled, finger stroking his chin in thought. "Say she fled, abandoning her son to his fate."

"The inheritances that would have been left to him by his mother will remain untouched until she comes to claim them for herself or she is declared dead. James Potter's will, however, will still be enacted. Though the child is not James Potter's son by blood, the man accepted him as such and the magic recognized him as such."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucius stepped out of the floo first, followed closely by Severus. Crispin was once again nearly strangling his father in panic, and the child started coughing and choking as soon as they stepped from the fireplace. Severus quickly started patting his son's back, trying to clear the boy's airway of lingering soot. "I'm sorry, Crispin," the man said softly as he tried to soothe the child's fright. "I know that everything you've seen and experienced so far has been frightening and confusing. We'll have some lunch and talk about everything in a bit. Will that be okay?" The child nodded against the Potions Master's shoulder, not wanting to lift his face from his father's neck.

"Bas," Lucius called out quietly. The loud pop startled Crispin, who clung to his dad tighter, trembling.

"Yes, Master Lucius?" the elderly elf asked. He was the head house elf and was very many decades older than most of the elves under his control. He had been with the Malfoys for several generations and had been taught to speak in a more civilized manner. Bas had taken it upon himself to train the other elves to speak the same way so that they could reflect the pride and glory of the Malfoy family more fully. Bas loved his family and the rest of the house elves felt the same.

"Have lunch ready in the small dining room, and inform my wife and son that they are needed immediately."

"Yes, Master Lucius." The elf popped away under the watchful, cautious gaze of the youngest Snape. Lucius turned to the pair, smiling kindly at the boy.

"That was a house elf, Crispin," the blond explained softly. "They are servants of a sort for the wizarding world."

"Where did he come from? How did he disappear like that?" the boy asked curiously.

"He lives in the manor with the rest of my house elves, and he used his magic to come and go."

"Magic?" the boy asked doubtfully, hope flaring in his emerald eyes.

"Yes, son," his father took up the explanation. "Magic. You are a wizard the same as we, and you are now in the magical world."

"Magic is real?"

"Yes, child," a feminine voice came from the staircase. "Magic is real." Crispin turned toward the voice, eyes widening on the very beautiful blonde woman coming toward them. "Hello. My name is Narcissa Malfoy, and you must be Harry Snape. I'm very pleased to meet you." She held out her hand to the boy and he carefully took it, shaking it gently before letting go and burying his face in his father's neck shyly. "He's very lovely, Severus. I can see the Prince line in the shape of his face."

"Thank you, Narcissa," the dour man answered with a small smile. "His name is actually Crispin Severus Snape."

"Mother, who is that?" a young boy asked. Crispin raised his head and looked at the small blond boy, shocked that he hadn't notice him sooner.

"That is your godfather's son."

"Really?" the blond asked incredulously. "Where did he come from? Why wasn't I introduced to him earlier? Will he be my friend? Can he stay here with me?"

"Easy, Dragon," Severus said to his godson. "All will be explained after lunch. And yes, you will be his friend." Severus knelt down and set Crispin on his feet, arm firmly wrapped around his son's waist. "Crispin Severus Snape, meet Draco Lucius Malfoy. Draco Lucius Malfoy, meet Crispin Severus Snape." Both boys solemnly shook hands, then Draco grinned widely, happiness glowing in his eyes.

"May we go to my rooms until lunch, Mother?" the little blond asked. At the matriarch's nod, Draco took the little Snape's hand and guided him up the stairs and through the hallways.

They entered the lavishly appointed Heir suite, Crispin staring around with wide, astonished eyes. "This is your bedroom?" the brunet asked, stunned.

"It is," the blond answered, smiling. "I'm sure your bedroom is much bigger and grander than this, since Uncle Sev is your dad and all." Crispin flushed with shame, emerald eyes on the floor.

"Not…not really," the boy replied softly. "My…my bedroom was…was a cup-cupboard un-under the s-stairs." Crispin refused to look at the little Malfoy, afraid of the disgust he'd see in the other boy's eyes, thinking that what was done to him by his relatives was normal treatment for a freak like him.

"Really?" Draco gasped in disbelief. "Uncle Sev kept you in a cupboard?"

"N-no. I only just found out today that he's my dad. I lived with my aunt and uncle. They're not ma-magical."

"Muggles!" the six year old blond spat venomously. "That's disgusting! How did you ever survive that? Why were you even there?"

"I don't know," the raven answered quietly. "I guess we'll find out after lunch."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus and Lucius went to the study; they still had a couple of hours before the Dark Lord was to arrive and wanted to talk about the day's events. The men had gone to the Potter vaults after visiting with Ragnok, to explore and perhaps bring back some keepsakes for Crispin. While they were looking around, Lucius came upon a diary with a variety of spells on it to prevent anyone else from being able to read it. He tucked it into a pocket after letting the Potions Master know that he had it. They would look at it as soon as they returned to the Manor.

Severus had found a few photographs of Lily, his dark eyes sad as he looked upon her face. He remembered the one time she had come to him, shortly after she had married Potter. She was feeling a little afraid, and after a few glasses of firewhiskey, he had found himself in bed with her. His memory of that night was a bit fuzzy, but apparently he and Lily had made love, as evidenced by Crispin's existence.

"Here," Lucius told the man as he handed the small book to his friend. "It has some rather impressive warding charms on it. Perhaps you can figure out how to open it."

"I am glad that Miss Navient is one of ours," Severus said as he took the diary. "That letter Lily wrote would have had me in Azkaban without trial, had it been seen by anyone else."

"Yes," Lucius concurred softly, eyes on the book as the Potions Master waved his wand over it. "I have no doubt that Miss Navient destroyed it as soon as we left the office. The official paperwork she filled out was all that would be needed to transfer custody to you after all."

It took a few moments, but Severus was able to undo the charms and opened the book to the last page as he and Lucius took the seats in front of the fireplace, wanting to know what was on the woman's mind to have her write him such a venomous letter.

October 4,1981

Harry has had another well-baby check today. They took blood to ensure that he had none of the blood borne wizarding diseases. He's healthy and I have the report on his blood tests. It's as I had feared. Harry is Severus' son. I don't know what to do. I've been with James forever, it seems. We married too young. I know that now. I also know that my heart truly belongs to Severus. I no longer wish to be married to James; he's too headstrong and foolhardy. He has all of the properties he'd inherited from Fleamont and Euphemia, but he refuses to go to any of them for our safety. Says he wants to be 'in the thick of things'.

If Severus hadn't have joined the Death Eaters, I would have gladly run away with him. Even now, looking upon the results of our one night of lovemaking, I feel such loss. Harry should have been raised by his real father. Nothing to do for it now, I suppose. I'll have to let Severus know of the fact that he's Harry's father, but I don't want to reveal my adultery. So I will pen him a note explaining without explaining everything. I just hope he can forgive me for what I am about to do.

I will put a polyjuiced homeless girl in my place when his Dark Lord comes calling. I've been listening to Pettigrew when he's been in the floo, talking to some of the other Death Eaters, and I know that the attack will occur on the Samhain solstice. I understand the symbolic meaning of this; Samhain will have a great deal of power, as it lifts the veil between the living and the dead. It is a night full of magic and suitable for human sacrifice. I just hope James and Harry don't suffer too greatly.

I know I'm being cowardly, but I don't want to be trapped in this marriage anymore. I don't want to be trapped with a child anymore. I'm too young to sacrifice my life for anyone. I haven't really lived yet. Selfish I know, but I can't help who I am. I just hope that, in time Severus will forgive me my selfishness. I hope, some day, that I will be able to meet with him and we may start a life together. Someday...

Severus handed the diary over to his friend silently, dark eyes unreadable. As Lucius read the entry, eyebrows permanently in his hairline, the Potions Master brooded over the shocking information he'd just received. She loved me, he thought morosely, staring into the fire but not really seeing it. All this time, and now I find out that she loved me. For whatever that's worth since she wished to throw away my son, all for her selfish needs. Perhaps James Potter's interference was a blessing in disguise. Should she ever come near me in the future, she better pray that I'm in a good mood. Heaven help her if I'm not.

Chapter 3

"My Lord," Severus and Lucius murmured as they entered the office, going down on one knee and bowing their heads. Riddle snorted at them in amusement.

"Rise, gentlemen," he said gently. "You know better than to do that while we're alone." Both men stood and took seats in front of Tom's desk. They were still in Malfoy Manor; Lucius had Bas turn one of the unused dens into an office for his Lord, and Tom was exceedingly grateful for the hospitality. "Have you retrieved your son, Severus?"

"We have," the dour man said with a small smile. "He's beautiful, and the spitting image of my grandfather, Temnein Prince. He's upstairs now, getting to know Draco."

"Excellent. We must talk about that dreadful Halloween night when I was very nearly destroyed. First, I wish to apologize to you Severus. Had I known he was your son, I would never have gone after him. I realize now that it was folly to believe that a prophecy could have any sort of effect on my life. I have no excuse but to say that I was not in my right mind at that moment."

"Understood, my Lord," the Potions Master replied with a small nod. "I've recently found out that Lily Potter isn't dead." When dark brows hit Tom's hairline in anger, Severus hastily continued. "Lucius found her diary in the Potter vaults and I've just finished reading the last entry. Seems she regretted being married to Potter and wished to be with me."

"I've destroyed your one chance for happiness," Riddle said as surprise colored his red eyes. "I am so sorry, Severus. I know that there is no way for me to make it up to you, but I will do everything in my power..."

"There is nothing to apologize for, Tom," the Potions Master interrupted gently. "She had left a polyjuiced homeless girl in her place, and that is who you defeated. She wanted out of the loveless marriage she'd trapped herself within, and she wanted to get away from the proof of her infidelity. I have lost whatever good feelings I had for her when I read first the note, then the diary entry. I never realized how selfish she was until then."

"I haven't read the note you took to the Ministry, so I am unaware of what you speak."

"She penned that note to cover her adultery, so she wrote that I had raped her in front of you."

"I would've never had anyone do something so vile, so disgusting," Voldemort snarled in revulsion. "She sounds like a right piece of work. More selfish and monstrous than even I can be, and that's saying something." Twin snorts from his friends had him smiling sheepishly.

"She was led to believe you to be something inhuman," Lucius finally contributed to the conversation. "You know the headmaster has been spreading lies about you to the wizarding world. However, you are right. She is a very selfish bitch."

"Albus was using this as a way to isolate you so that you would not be able to gain any respectable allies from the Light," the Potions Master added softly.

"You could be right about that, Severus," Riddle murmured. "Anyway, how are you planning on integrating your son into your life?"

"I plan on teaching him everything we stand for, Tom," Severus answered quietly. "He will be the perfect Snape heir."

"Where will you send him for his schooling?"

"I…don't really know, my Lord. I had thought, if I were ever lucky enough to have my own children, that I would send them to Hogwarts. Now however, I am undecided."

"Your son was the one prophesied to 'vanquish' me, was he not?" Riddle asked, eyebrow quirked and amusement glimmering in ruby eyes. At Severus' nod, the man continued. "What if we send him to Hogwarts to 'do his duty' and 'vanquish' the Dark Lord?"

"You want him to kill you?" Lucius gasped incredulously. Riddle laughed loudly at that, and his friends waited patiently for him to finish.

"No," Tom sputtered, trying to control his laughter. "I want him to go to Hogwarts and destroy the old man's reputation by convincing his classmates of the truth of our goals and desires for the wizarding world. I want him to 'vanquish' the lies that Dumbledore has perpetuated about me, starting with the fact that I was not, in fact, 'destroyed' that unfortunate Hallowe'en night. I want him to bring about the rise of the Dark to its rightful place in wizarding society."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Master Draco, lunch is ready," Dobby said respectfully before popping away. Crispin stared at the spot the elf had been in, still shocked at the free use of what had been, until he'd been rescued by his father, a fairy tale for which to be punished. Draco saw the amazement and understood at a basic level that Crispin was a little wary of the free use of magic. Smiling, the blond took the raven's hand and led him to the small dining room, grinning at his uncle Tom as they took their seats at the table.

"Ah, welcome children," the Dark Lord said as he watched the boys sit across from him. Lucius sat at the head of the table, while Narcissa sat at the other end. Severus was seated beside Riddle, right across from his son. There were other people situated around the table, eyeing Crispin, which made him very nervous.

"Hi, uncle Tom," Draco said happily, a sunny smile on his face. Crispin nodded shyly to the man, dropping his eyes to the table nervously, trying to avoid the gazes from everyone else.

"Crispin?" Severus said quietly to gain the child's attention. When he raised his head to look at his father, Snape continued. "This man," gesturing to the seat to his right, "is Tom Riddle. He is known in the wizarding world as the Dark Lord Voldemort, but here in the privacy of Lucius' home, he is simply Tom."

"Pl-pleased to m-meet you," the raven stuttered nervously, eyes dropped back to the table.

"The pleasure is all mine, Crispin Snape," Tom intoned gently, trying to put the skittish child at ease. "I would like to welcome you home and ask that you try and learn all that we teach you about your world and your place in it."

"I...I'll try," the child replied softly, looking shyly at the other man through his bangs. "Do...do I get to call you Uncle, too?"

"Of course you may," Tom replied with a wide smile. "I would be honored for you to see me as such. There will be a lot for you to learn, and a lot for you to endure in the coming years, but know that I will always be there for you, no matter the need."

"Thank you," Crispin whispered, tears shimmering at the edges of his lashes. "I've never had anyone want to take care of me or look out for me before." All around the table felt the child's yearning in those quietly spoken words, and hearts melted around the table.

"You have all of us, young Master Snape," Bella told the child. "I am Bellatrix Lestrange and I am your aunt. This is my husband," gesturing to the man on her right, "and his name is Rodolphus Lestrange. The other man to my left is his brother, Rabastan. We will be here for you whenever you need us, darling."

"I am Teodred Nott," another man down the table said with a small smile. "I have a son your age and I will bring him here next time. His name is Theo, and I'm sure he'd be glad to meet you."

"I am Arthur Crabbe, and this is Buster Goyle," a rather brutish man said, gesturing to the other blocky individual to his left. "Our sons are Vincent and Gregory, and we'll bring them with us the next time as well."

"My name is Ehno Zabini, and my son is Blaise," a dark-skinned man said to the child with a smile.

"I am Raphael Parkinson, and my daughter, Pansy, would be delighted to make your acquaintance."

"My name is Aubrey Greengrass, and Daphne would be pleased to meet you, young Master Snape."

"My name is Horatio Bullstrode, and my daughter Millicent will be here tomorrow to meet you."

"I am Justin Davis," the final man said with a grin, "and I think Tracey would adore you." The raven's head was swimming with all the introductions and he frowned, not sure that he'd remember any of them.

"Don't worry," Draco whispered to him. "They're all my friends, and I'll re-introduce you to them when they come over tomorrow."

"I am sorry, Crispin," Severus murmured to his beleaguered son. "I did not think the others would bombard you with so much information so soon. They are all my friends and associates, and they're willing to provide you with as much family as you wish. Just know that none of them will hurt you, and all will be there for you no matter what."

"Thanks, Dad," Crispin murmured with a shy smile to his father. "I'm so happy that you found me."

"As am I, my son," the Potions Master murmured with a grin. "As am I."

Chapter 4

Ten year old Crispin barreled through Malfoy Manor, Draco hot on his heels. In the intervening years since the boy had been rescued, he had blossomed into a proud, self-assured heir of the Prince dynasty. His father had taken him to Gringotts a few days earlier to outline all of the inheritances that the Prince family had passed down. He'd also collected the Prince family ring for the boy, and Crispin was now wearing it. It came equipped with resizing charms that would ensure that the circulation in his finger would never be cut off.

The stone in the thick platinum band was a large oval snowflake obsidian with the crest of the House of Prince carved into the surface. The emblem was a black shield shape with a white lion rearing back in the center. Above the shield was what looked like the neck and shoulder pieces of a suit of armor, with a ribbed collar around the neck in alternating colors of black and gold. To either side were filigrees going in different directions and alternating in colors of black and white. Omnia Libidine ac Puritatis was engraved around the inside of the band, while the exterior had runes of protection and love.

As Crispin and Draco grew, they were introduced slowly into the politics and plans of the Dark faction. The youngest Snape had no problem adapting to the pureblood beliefs taught to him. He had no love for muggles, having been treated as poorly as he was by, not only his relatives but the neighborhood as well. Because of the Dursleys' interference while he was there, the children of the neighborhood pushed him around and bullied him, encouraged by Dudley and spurred on by their own parents. The rest of the adults turned a blind eye to the boy's suffering, thinking he deserved whatever treatment he got simply because the elder Dursleys told their neighbors that his deceased parents were criminals, and that Harry would be attending St. Brutus' Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. His opinions on muggleborns, though colored to some degree by his teachings, were reserved. He'd never met any muggleborns, so he wasn't sure what they would be like or what their ideals were.

"Father," Crispin gasped out as he reached Severus. Ebon brows flew into the older man's hairline in concern for a moment. "Save me," the child continued with a mischievous smirk on his face. "Draco is trying to murder me." He darted around his father, hiding behind him as the blond barged into the room, sliding to a halt in front of his godfather and looking at the man sheepishly.

"What, pray tell, are you two menaces up to now?" he asked with a long suffering sigh. The blond scowled up at his godfather, vexed.

"He stole my wand," the child barked, pointing a rigid finger at the brunet behind his father. "Make him give it back." Severus turned and looked at his son, eyebrow arched in question.

"I didn't steal it," he muttered petulantly. "I merely hid it. I left him clues to find it; it's not my fault he's ignorant."

Before Draco could take the other boy to task, Severus beat him to it. "That was completely uncalled for, Crispin, as you well know," the Potions Master barked out incredulously. "You do not insult anyone, and especially not Draco. Now, you are to return his wand to him and I want you to apologize for what you've said."

Heaving a sigh, and knowing that his dad was right, Crispin slowly walked up to his very best friend and wrapped his arms around the other boy. "I'm sorry you're so ignorant," he said with laughter in his voice. Draco hissed in fury, pushing away from the other boy angrily. Seeing the amusement in emerald eyes, the blond huffed out his irritation and scowled at his best friend. "Truly," the brunet continued seriously, "I'm sorry for insulting you. You're probably the smartest person I know, next to Dad. It was unfair of me to hide your wand and then give you trick clues so you couldn't find it." He reached into his robe pocket and pulled out the hawthorn and unicorn tail hair wand, handing it to his friend contritely.

Tom had invited Ollivander into the manor to give the children their wands on their tenth birthdays so that they could practice the necessary spell work before school started the next year. At first the old wand maker didn't want to; he was afraid of the heavy sanctions that would have been placed on him by the Ministry. However, since the manor was surrounded by ancient impenetrable wards, the old man had no reason to worry. So he brought a substantial number of the wands he had in stock, and the children were able to get theirs early.

"You brat," Draco huffed playfully, tucking the wand back into the holster strapped to his forearm. "I love playing hide and seek with you; just don't cheat next time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus Snape, under a heavy disillusionment charm, entered the Dursleys' house to see what his spell work had wrought. Vernon was in his recliner, a mere shell of the man that had met Severus four years earlier. His skin hung from his frame in loose folds and there was a deep sadness in his eyes. Scanning the muggle's thoughts, ebon eyes widened in glee at what he'd found.

Petunia had not believed anything that her husband had told her, hearing every word that came from his mouth as a lie. When he told her that he had to be away for business, she heard that he was going out of town to meet some woman. When he told her that he had to stay late for a meeting, she heard that he was gambling with his buddies at the local pub. This resulted in many, many arguments between them which went unresolved, since she wouldn't believe anything he said.

He was also worried for her. The spells to make her eat more had worked but not in the way that Severus had planned. It seemed that her thyroid was very overactive which resulted in her scrawny appearance. When he cast the spells over her, they activated dormant cells in the gland which resulted in the woman developing thyroid cancer. Everything she ate went to feeding the growth of the disease and she continued to waste away.

The internists thought that they'd be able to stop the spread in time by removing the gland and her lymph nodes; however, with the additional spells of pain and suffering, the cancer was only exacerbated, resulting in a quick spread to her liver and stomach. The diagnosis had come too late to save her and she was in hospice, gasping in her last breaths. Marge Dursley had taken in her nephew; the breakdown of her brother's marriage as well as the looming death of Petunia had the woman seeking legal help to gain custody of their son. She was happy to do it; she saw great potential in the boy and wanted to teach him the ropes of professional dog breeding.

Severus left the house, head down thoughtfully. He felt a small kernel of guilt; he hadn't intended for this much suffering to occur to the pair because of his anger. However, an even larger part of him rejoiced, for karma was truly a bitch, and she'd served his vengeance beautifully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Skulking in the shadows between the stationery shop and Flourish and Blott's, the redhead watched with sad eyes as Crispin made his way to Eeylops Owl Emporium with his father. Her heart quickened as she saw the fine man Severus had become, and she once again lamented her folly in abandoning their son to his fate, if only because she could have used him to bring Severus to her. Fortunately her baby boy survived the attack that night and he was the spitting image of Severus, with the beauty of the Prince line evident in his face. She was sure that Harry would want to be with her, since she was his mother; she was also sure that Severus would eagerly follow his son anywhere.

The child turned his face up to his father to say something, and she gasped softly at the emerald eyes sparkling with happiness. Tears formed as she watched her son, glad that some small part of herself was present in his features. Constantly seeing her lambent green orbs reflected in his son would keep her at the forefront of his mind. Her eyes narrowed when a little blond boy ran up to the pair just before they entered the shop. She saw the distinct Malfoy genes in the child and frowned as she watched her son enthusiastically greet the other boy. Moments later, her eyes widened in fear as she saw Lucius Malfoy stalk up to the group.

"Harry," she whispered fearfully as she watched the raven wrap his arms around the elder Malfoy's waist and smile happily up at him. "What are you doing with them? What are you thinking, Severus? You can't be seen with them. It'll ruin everything." The group entered the shop and she crept from the shadows, her glamour firmly in place. Lily made her way to Fortescue's to get an ice cream soda and watch the goings-on in the Alley. She wanted to wait for a suitable time to get Severus alone so that she could talk to him. She wanted to explain why she had done what she did, and also to warn him of the dangers of associating with the Malfoys.

Forty five minutes later, the group exited the owl shop, Crispin proudly holding a brass cage containing a magnificent snowy owl. The little Malfoy brat had an impressive black eagle owl, and both children looked ecstatically at their purchases. As the foursome passed the ice cream shop, Lily smiled, happy to be able to see Severus up close. She gave a passing glance to the boy and could see that he looked healthy and alive and seemed to be very happy. However, she wasn't sure that she should allow either of them to continue to be a part of the Malfoys' lives and stood from her table.

She intercepted the group before they got much further, staring Severus down as they halted in front of her. "May I help you, madam?" he asked softly, hands automatically going to his son's shoulders protectively.

"I want to talk to you and your son, alone," she said quietly. Snape's eyes widened as he recognized that voice and he silently incanted the spell that dispelled her glamour. Before him stood Lily Potter and he hissed angrily, his voice a snarl as he replied.

"My son and I have nothing to say to you," he barked loudly, attracting unwanted attention. Lucius put up a privacy shield and notice-me-not charms to keep anyone from recognizing the woman before them and calling the Aurors. "You abandoned my son to die. With no thought or care for him, you left him there to be murdered. You placed an innocent homeless girl in your stead to die. You left me an ugly, poisonous letter, confessing your crimes in a selfish effort to mitigate your responsibility in his death.

"I found your personal diaries in his heritage vault," Severus continued harshly. "I read what you had actually felt about my son. Your selfishness has exceeded even Lord Voldemort's. There is nothing you can say or do that will ever earn my forgiveness or approbation. Let me warn you now; should you ever try to approach or engage with my son, I will bury you."

"But Severus," Lily tried again, looking with longing at the older man. She had barely glanced at Crispin and the child had noticed.

"Leave my father alone," he growled, trying to take a step forward; however, his dad's hands were still gripping his shoulders. "He doesn't want anything to do with you. He told me all about you and I hate you for abandoning me and condemning me to death. I didn't choose to be born, but if I had, I certainly wouldn't have chosen to be your son." The redhead flinched at the hatred she heard in his voice, emerald eyes locking with matching emerald eyes and pleading for understanding.

"Mrs. Potter," Lucius finally said, having reached the limit of his patience with the woman, "I suggest you leave the British Isles and find somewhere else to haunt. If you persist in harassing Severus or his son, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are a pariah. I will ensure that you are made an outcast in this country and, if it's possible, have you up on legal charges that would see you in Azkaban for a very long time. We frown very heavily on child abandonment, and the attempted murder of Crispin Severus Snape will not go unpunished if you do not leave and never return."

Notes:

The translation is: Passion and purity above all.

Chapter 5

"Hello, Albus," a soft feminine voice said from the vicinity of the fireplace in the headmaster's office. Dumbledore's head snapped up, eyes widening in stunned surprise as he stared at the redheaded woman slowly approaching his desk. His mouth hung open as he watched her sit in one of the gaudily patterned chairs before his desk, and it was many long minutes before he was able to call his brain back from the void.

"L-Lily?" he said querulously. At her nod, he scowled, fury replacing the shock. "How?" he barked harshly, making the woman flinch. "You died that night. I saw your body. We buried you. We mourned you."

"I...I found out what the Dark Lord had planned for that Hallowe'en night and I took steps to ensure that I would survive, but that James and Harry would not." She saw the headmaster's face morph into a monstrous scowl, and quickly continued. "I didn't want to be a wife and mother anymore, Albus," she said beseechingly. "I was far too young to take up such heavy responsibilities. Unfortunately my regret came too late for me to do anything about it, and I had resigned myself to spending the rest of my life in an untenable situation.

"When I overheard Pettigrew talking to some of the other Death Eaters, I realized that this could be my way out. So, I befriended a young homeless girl who had been living in the cemetery and I took her in. I fed her and clothed her and made sure that she would be strong enough to withstand the polyjuice potion when the time was right. On the thirty-first, as I listened to the Dark Lord hammering at the wards, I fed her the polyjuice and left her in the nursery under the imperius so that I could flee. I made sure to implant the orders to fight with the Dark Lord so that it would look like I had sacrificed my life for my son.

"I didn't expect Harry to survive the confrontation, let alone be taken away and raised elsewhere. I didn't want the evidence of my infidelity to follow me all my life, so I left a letter with Mrs. Figg, to be given to Severus when the time was right; preferably when Harry was dead. I guess she saw Harry being mistreated and felt it was her duty to let Severus know that his son was in danger so he could rescue his child."

"S-son?" Albus finally stammered, reeling from the information that had been thrown at him all at once. "Harry is Severus' son?"

"He is," Lily whispered, head down. "I slept with Severus only once, but once was all it took. I had hoped that Harry was James', but a blood test quickly ended that hope. I thought that if I could get rid of James and Harry, then perhaps some day Severus would forgive me enough to take me back. He's very angry with me right now, as he should be, but I hope that if I'm around him enough, he'll forgive me and allow me to become his once again."

"Let me get this straight," Albus ground out, furious that this selfish woman had disrupted all of his carefully laid plans. "Harry is Severus' son and not James'." Lily nodded, for once wisely keeping her mouth shut. "You left a letter for him, telling him that Harry is his son." Another nod, this time smaller and meeker. "You allowed Severus to collect his son and take him somewhere out of my reach." Lily slumped in the chair, not even bothering to acknowledge the headmaster's statements as he continued. "Harry has now been raised in the wizarding world, knows his heritage and history and is completely beyond my control."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears falling down her face. "I didn't want to interfere with anything, but I just couldn't stay there anymore. I only wish to be near Severus so that I can try and convince him to come back to me."

Albus sat back into his chair, staring impassively at the redhead across from him, hand idly stroking his beard as he thought. The silence stretched on, only the sounds of the crackling fire marring an otherwise oppressive stillness. The hush was finally broken by a sudden flurry of activity as the headmaster leapt into action. "You will be the new History of Magic professor," he barked, making Lily flinch and sink back into her chair. "I'll have the Unspeakables banish Binns' ghost to the afterlife and will notify the Ministry of your position here."

"B-but what about my reported death?" she asked reasonably. "Won't the Ministry come here and try to arrest me?"

"I will tell them that you were highly recommended to me by Madame Maxime, from Beauxbaton's. I had lamented to her about the unsuitability of Binns continuing to teach and was looking for someone to replace him. She helpfully suggested you and I thought you eminently suitable for the position."

"I look like myself, Albus," the Potter widow said acerbically. "How are you going to explain away my appearance?"

"Simple," he said as he removed a ring from his pinky. It was made of heavy gold with a glowing white stone in the center. He handed the gaudy piece of jewelry to her after tapping it with his wand and muttering a few words in a language she couldn't understand.

"I can't wear that," she complained with a moue of disgust. "It looks hideous." Grumbling, Albus waved his wand over the ring, changing it into a delicate gold band with a gleaming opal as its stone.

"Is that better?" he snapped as he thrust the ring at her again. Nodding meekly, she took it and slid it onto her right ring finger. It resized automatically but other than that, nothing else happened.

"So?" she asked softly, looking into his angry blue eyes. He conjured a full length mirror with a flourish and forcibly grabbed her shoulder, yanking her none too gently out of the chair and spinning her to face the glass. She gaped unbecomingly as she stared at her reflection. Looking back at her was a mousy, nondescript woman of average height. She had dark brown eyes and long, lank brown hair. Her form was a little bulkier than usual, and she had ink stains permanently tattooed into the tips of her fingers. "H-How…?" was all she was able to manage.

"That piece of jewelry I so graciously allow you to wear has a great many spells on it," Dumbledore told the woman grandly. "I created it one afternoon when I grew bored with the incessant paperwork that comes with this job. I thought that I could perhaps create a ring that will carry a permanent disguise, almost like a long-lasting polyjuice potion. I tinkered with layering a few spells on it, tweaked it a bit, and you now reap the benefits of my vast intelligence."

"Thank you, Albus," Lily breathed as she stared at her reflection. "Now I can get close to Severus again and perhaps change his mind about me."

"You mustn't reveal your true identity," the headmaster warned. "If anyone were to discover who you really are, you would be in Azkaban before the end of the day. Need I remind you of your crimes of kidnapping, murder, attempted murder, bearing false witness, line theft..?" Lily quickly shook her head, emerald eyes wide and terrified. "Good," the old man continued with a kindly smile. "You may try and woo Severus around to your way of thinking using the charms you now have, but until I say, you must never reveal your true identity."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Everyone's all packed for Hogwarts," Severus said as he surveyed the room. Lucius and Narcissa were on a two-seated sofa and the boys were on the floor playing exploding snap. The house was surprisingly quiet on the night before leaving for the Hogwarts Express; Tom had returned to his own manor and the minions were out and about, gathering information and allies to the cause.

"I've received a rather unusual missive from the headmaster," Lucius told the Potions Master as he sat in an armchair near the boys. "It seems that Dumbledore has retained the services of a new History of Magic professor. A," he consulted the letter in his hand for a moment, "Miss Covidia Carrion. Apparently he had the Unspeakables out to the school to exorcise Binns, and has informed the Ministry that he has hired this young woman. The Ministry, as is required by the school charter, has informed the School Board of Governors about the change in staff."

"That is odd," Severus murmured, fingers wrapped around his chin and index finger tapping his lips in contemplation. "He was always such good friends with Cuthbert whilst the man was alive. I would have thought that he would have hung on to Binns until a new headmaster took over."

"I can see the benefit in obtaining a new professor for that class," Narcissa murmured, smiling as she watched the boys play. "The OWL and NEWT scores for History of Magic have been rather abysmal since Binns died. It stands to reason that Dumbledore would want to maintain the best education for his students."

"Ah, but that goes against everything I know of the man, Cissa," Severus argued. "He wouldn't wish to invite strangers into his domain; especially if they would somehow go above their stations and contest how he runs the school. He's up to something; there's another reason he has for hiring a new teacher at this time."

"Do you think he knows about you obtaining custody of your son?" Lucius asked curiously.

"If he does, it wasn't by legitimate means that he came by the information," the Potions Master replied softly. "Perhaps a spy? Someone keeping tabs on my movements for him?"

"You don't think he'd hire Lily Potter to teach, do you?" Narcissa asked suddenly, grey eyes wide.

"He would have to know that she's still alive," Lucius said into the shocked silence. "I doubt most sincerely that she would approach him in any way, knowing how much that man loved her husband."

"You're predicating your judgments on the fact that Albus Dumbledore cares about anything other than his plans for the wizarding world," Severus offered into the quiet. "He's as manipulative as they come, as you well know, Lucius. It would not surprise me that he would find some use for her, should she stupidly approach him for help. I'll need to be extra careful around the new professor; if she is indeed Lily Potter, I've no doubt that she'll be there, doing Albus' bidding whilst still trying to get into my good graces."

Chapter 6

The boys entered the Hogwarts Express excitedly, followed closely by Severus. There was no way that he would allow his boys to travel to Hogwarts unprotected. Lily Potter was still out there somewhere and he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t try and somehow attach herself to Crispin in an effort to win her way around Severus’ caution. In her efforts to curry favor with him, he was sure that she would callously use Crispin’s feelings, with no thought to the damage she would do to the boy’s self-esteem. She’d already shown a remarkable selfishness, that the Potions Master was fully unaware of until he'd retrieved his son five years ago, in an effort to escape an untenable situation instead of working around the circumstances. She should have died that night, Snape thought angrily. At least then she could be a hero for the boy instead of the bitter disappointment she’s become.

They found their way to the Slytherin car where everyone from second year on up shouted out greetings to their Head of House. Severus nodded to each one and graced them with a gentle smile, letting them know that this year, as it was every year, he would have their backs. The kids relaxed back into their conversations and games, glad for the silent, strong support of the normally reticent man. Eyes followed the little raven haired child curiously; they’d recognized the blond as the Malfoy heir, but didn’t know who the other child was.

It was as the boy was enthusiastically talking to Severus as they made their way to a booth at the back of the car that his hair shifted a bit, revealing the signature lightning bolt scar of the Savior of the wizarding world. Voices hissed in whispers as the news traveled throughout the car. What was the Savior doing here? Why was he with our Head of House? Why was Malfoy with them? Does Dumbledore know that he’s here in the snake’s den? How would this affect the sorting? How would it affect our House if he’s sorted there? Is this going to cause us more trouble? What of the Dark Lord? Will we have to betray one of our own to save ourselves and our parents?

Blissfully unaware of the curiosity surrounding his presence, Crispin sat across from his dad and next to Draco, chattering happily as he settled in for the long train ride to the school. More than once, someone would poke their head in the door of the cabin, look around with disgust on his or her face, and quickly back out, closing the door behind them. After about twenty five minutes of this odd behavior, Crispin looked at his dad curiously. “What are they doing?” he asked incredulously, laughter in his voice as he watched yet another first year poke a red head in, look around and pull out.

This time, however, the silence was thick enough that you could hear a pin drop. The redheaded boy’s voice carried all through the car as he muttered, “Bloody snakes. All Death Eaters in training. Evil, the lot of them,” before he closed the door. Several snorts of amazement followed him out, and more than one eye rolled dramatically at the thick-headed boy as they watched him make his way to another compartment.

“They’re trying to find room on the train,” Severus replied softly, anger in his voice. “I understand that they’re new to the train, but they should have been told by their elder siblings, or someone else on the train, that the last car always contained the Slytherin students. The fact that they haven’t received notification of this tells me that some of the prefects patrolling the train are lax in their duties. I will need to have a chat with them to ensure that the Slytherins’ ride to school is a peaceful one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first years stood in the anteroom, waiting with nervous energy until they were to be sorted. They’d heard all manner of stories, from hard magic tests to feats of daring to decide which House they belonged in, so they were suitably scared. As they waited, Crispin and Draco circulated amongst their friends, chatting and catching up, since they didn’t get together on the train. Into the conversation butted the obnoxious redhead from the Express. “Hi,” he said to Crispin, treating the other kids there as if they didn’t exist. “My name is Ron Weasley. I saw the scar. That means you’re Harry Potter. I’m going to be your best friend, so you might as well come over here where the good people are.”

“My name is Crispin Severus Snape. I am not, nor have I ever been, Harry Potter. I am with my friends, which you are not. Go away. I already know that I won’t like you.” He turned back to Draco to continue their interrupted conversation when he felt his shoulder grabbed. Weasley pulled Crispin around and glared at him, face fire-engine red with fury.

“You are going to be my best friend,” he snarled into the startled raven’s face. His grip on the other boy’s shoulder had become painful, but Crispin bore with it stoically, not wanting to rock the boat this early into an unknown situation. “Headmaster Dumbledore came to my house, and told me that you are going to be my friend. He told me that I needed to protect you from all of the bad people in the school, starting with this lot.” Tightening his grip on the Snape heir’s shoulder, Weasley began to drag the other boy over to a group of people that he’d made friends with on the train. He took three steps before he started to howl like a banshee, his hand hanging at an awkward angle and a bone protruding from his wrist.

He looked at the other boy fearfully, trembling at the wrath in those vibrant emerald eyes directed at him. Crispin had just tucked away his wand in his holster, and he took two menacing steps forward, hissing into the terrified redhead’s face. “You ever touch me like that again and it’ll be more than your wrist broken. Consider this your only warning and bugger off.” The raven turned back to his friends and rejoined them. They surrounded him protectively and glared murder at the youngest Weasley, making him scurry back to the protections of his friends. McGonagall, who had witnessed the confrontation, hustled forward and quickly incanted a healing spell, repairing the break cleanly.

Crispin looked up when a shadow loomed over him. He met the cool blue eyes of the deputy headmistress and transfiguration professor indifferently. “May I help you, professor?” he asked politely, one eyebrow arched curiously.

“Mr. Potter,” she began, before she was cut off.

“My name is Crispin Severus Snape,” the child informed her blandly. “Kindly remember it, please.”

“Your name is Harry Potter. It says so on my student list,” the old tabby snapped.

“I suggest you check it again,” Crispin helpfully suggested. “My name is legally Crispin Severus Snape, son of Severus Tobias Snape and Lily Rose Potter, nee Evans. A blood test proved my father’s claim to me and he came to get me. Please address me as Mr. Snape in future.”

Stymied, Minerva looked at the list in her hand, and sure enough the name ‘Crispin Severus Snape’ was on it. The name ‘Harry James Potter’ was conspicuously absent, lending truth to the child’s words. She gathered herself and began again. “Mr. Snape, we do not permit magic to be used outside the classes. The rules will be told to you after the sorting. Since you’ve disobeyed it, you will have detention with Filch for a month for the assault of another student.”

“Begging your pardon, madam,” another voice spoke up. All eyes turned to Blaise Zabini in surprise. He was a quiet, reserved boy, and rarely spoke up unless it was absolutely necessary. Apparently, he felt it was necessary. “We haven’t been sorted yet, and the rules haven’t been explained to us. Furthermore, Mr. Weasley started the altercation and placed his hand on Crispin aggressively first. Crispin only responded to the threat to his person, and in a reasonable manner under the circumstances. Should you try and push the detention, I will be forced to discuss your blatant disregard for Weasley's behavior toward heir Snape, and your confrontational attitude, with his father, who will then contact their attorneys, who will cite you for not interceding on Crispin’s behalf when he was assaulted.”

Blaise stepped up to his friend and pulled the neck of his t-shirt away, showing the developing deep purple bruise where Weasley’s hand had gripped his shoulder. “As you can see, there is visible evidence of the other boy’s assault on my friend. You have no standing in this matter, and I suggest you go back to the front of the room and continue ‘monitoring’ us until we are sorted.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sorting had gone relatively well. Some of the placements were expected; others were a complete shock, considering the history of the family from whom the child came. Draco Malfoy, as well as Crispin Snape, were sorted into Ravenclaw. The rest of their friends went into Slytherin; even Blaise had gone there. Everyone was expecting him to be placed in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, since the majority of his family went to those two houses. However, the influence of his mother, lovingly referred to as the Black Widow, had altered the boy’s perceptions of himself, and had given him more cunning and a thirst for recognition than anything else could.

“Father will be so pleased that I’m here,” Draco told his best friend quietly. “He’s wanted to change the image of the family for a long time, but Grandad Abraxas was a vicious taskmaster and had beaten a standard of living into Father from a young age. As far as Grandad was concerned, any House other than Slytherin was grounds for disownment. I’m really glad that Father doesn’t believe that, although I’m sure he’d have chucked a wobbly if I had ended up in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.”

“I can see Dad grinning from here,” Crispin said happily as he waved enthusiastically at his father. The dour man, who hadn’t looked so dour since his son came into his life, smiled wider and waved back. Everyone quieted as the headmaster stood from his chair and tapped his glass.

“Before we partake of the wonderful food about to be served, I must make an introduction. Professor Binns has been sent to the Great Beyond, and I have the singular pleasure in introducing your new History of Magic professor, Miss Covidia Carrion. I do ask that you give her a chance to settle into her role as your professor, so no shenanigans.” He turned baleful blue eyes to the Gryffindor table, where a pair of redheaded twins ducked their heads sheepishly. “Let the feast begin!”

The tables automatically became laden with so many types of food that it was a difficult task to not choose everything. The first years went instantly for the cakes, puddings and cookies, but the prefects had things well in hand as they used their wands to move the tempting confections out of reach of the children. At the loud protests, it was explained to them that Hogwarts and its professors take the health of their students very seriously. There was to be a lot of energy expended to master the varieties of spells and incantations that they must learn, and they needed to eat full, healthy meals so that their magical cores could strengthen with both the good food and the magical exercise.

Mollified for the moment, the kids picked the foods they liked best, as their choices reminded them of home-cooked meals and lively conversations around the dinner table. Family time was very important to most magicals, and the children realized that they would be pretty much on their own from here on out. It was a daunting feeling, and a fair few were feeling suddenly overwhelmed with homesickness. Since this phenomenon occurred every year, the Heads of House patrolled the Great Hall, offering comfort and solace, and sometimes a shoulder on which to cry. These first attempts to establish bonds of mentorship would ensure that the kids stayed the course throughout their lives in the school, and would almost guarantee strong witches and wizards who would graduate with honors.

Chapter 7

It was the first day for the new History of Magic professor to teach the first years, and this class was the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs. Unlike the classes with Gryffindor and Slytherin together, the houses mixed it up, sitting wherever they wanted; usually next to friends they’d made on the train. Professor Carrion stood at the front of the class, looking over the shining faces fondly. She hesitated only briefly on Crispin’s face before moving on, but no one noticed the slight pause. “Good morning, class,” she finally said, her voice low and raspy. Dumbledore had needed to make a slight modification to the ring before he could release Lily to get settled. Her voice had a distinct musical quality that would be recognized by many professors there, so he added a modulating charm that had changed the tone and timbre of her voice.

“I am, as you know, professor Carrion, and I am to be your History of Magic professor. The first thing I’d like to do is take roll. When I call your name, raise your hand.” A hand shot up before she could begin, and she raised her eyebrow at the child, nodding for her to continue.

“Why are you calling roll?” Lisa Turpin asked softly. “None of the other professors do that.”

“I call roll so that I may know who has shown up for class. As I understand it, this particular class has been notorious for students skiving off. I realize that being taught goblin wars incessantly by a ghost who doesn’t even know your name can be a bit dull, not to mention that it provides the opportunity to skip class, since the professor doesn’t even know you’re here. I need to ensure that everyone attends, and those who don’t will be docked house points. Now, let us begin.” She went through all the names, from Hannah Abbott to Lisa Turpin, ensuring that everyone was present and accounted for.

Turning to the chalkboard, she flicked her wand at it, revealing the assignment for their first class. “Today I want you to start with the chapters on the Statute of Secrecy. I want you to read them, and then compose a three foot essay discussing when the Statute went into effect and why. I want as much information as you can gather, put into the paper. If you wish to do research outside class, I welcome the additional information. Just be sure that your sources are above board. You may gather into groups to read and discuss the chapters, but I want individual essays from each and every one of you. If I see any that appear to have been copied from someone else, or seem to have sections taken directly from published sources, you will receive a failing grade for the assignment. You may begin.”

There was a great deal of rustling and mumbling as the children gathered into individual groups. Most had their friends with them, while some got together because they were ‘leftovers’. In doing the assignment in this manner, Lily unknowingly created groups that would be friends for the rest of their time at Hogwarts. With Crispin and Draco were Tracey Davis, Gregory Goyle, Wayne Hopkins and Ernie Macmillan.

“I’ve got to know, Greg,” Draco murmured as soon as the friends gathered together, “how did you end up in Hufflepuff? I would have thought you’d be sorted to Slytherin, like your father.”

“Well,” the hulking boy replied quietly, “the hat told me that I could go to Slytherin or Hufflepuff, but that Hufflepuff would be where I would gain the most loyal friends. It told me that my blood status would cause me problems in Slytherin, so I selected the house of the badgers. I want a relatively quiet school life, and I don’t think I’d get that in the snakepit.”

“Fair point,” the blond said after a moment’s thought. “I didn’t want to be pigeonholed into a role based on my ancestry, either. I was so happy to be sorted into Ravenclaw, and Father is over the moon with pride at the change in my circumstances. Besides, I don’t think I want to be away from my best friend, and I doubt he’d be in Slytherin, either.”

“I could have been,” Crispin finally chimed in. “The hat gave me the same choice; either Ravenclaw or Slytherin. Since I don’t feel the need to prove myself to anyone, I took the house that would help me exercise my intellect more. Honestly, I’d like to see if the hat did the same for other kids, as well. I would think that the magic in the headgear would at least take into account personality traits as well as intelligence when making its decision, and I would hope that it would allow for the students to choose where they want to go, when there seems to be more than one house that would suit.”

It was nearing the end of the class, and the students had made great strides in their homework essays. “I want those essays written neatly,” professor Carrion said as the kids gathered up their things in preparation to leave to their next class. “I don’t want to have to pull out a foreign language dictionary to decipher your chicken scratch. Have a good day. Mr. Snape, if I might have a word.” The raven looked at the woman a little worriedly; he was sure he hadn’t done anything wrong. Draco offered to stay, but his friend shook him off and sent him on his way. Severus was lurking outside the classroom, knowing that if Lily was going to make a move, this would be the time.

Draco passed him as he left, blond brows in his hairline in surprise at seeing his godfather lurking outside the classroom. He hesitated for a moment, looking into the Potions Master’s eyes in concern. Later was mouthed to the child and he nodded briskly before heading off to his next class.

“How are you finding Hogwarts?” the professor asked softly. She took in everything about her son as he stood tall and proud before her, looking so much like Severus that an ache started up in her chest.  Her heart beat triple time with nerves and excitement as she prepared to violate the one rule that Albus had given her.

“Classes are going well,” the raven responded cautiously. “Was there something about which you had need to speak with me?”

“Yes...I...um...I wanted to tell you that I’m y-” She never got to finish her sentence. Severus burst through the door and interrupted the conversation, glaring daggers at the woman as he walked up to his son and put a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder.

“You need to get to your next class, Crispin,” his father told him firmly, giving the boy a little push to get him moving.

“But Father, she needed to speak with me for some reason,” Crispin told the man in protest.

“Now,” Severus barked in a no-nonsense voice. Crispin understood that should he press the point there would be hell to pay.

“Yes sir,” he said as he walked out the door. Once the child was out of earshot, Severus rounded on the woman, stalking up to her menacingly. Lily flinched at the unmitigated rage in the man’s eyes, paling even further at the venom spewed at her.

“If you dare try and speak with him again in any other capacity than teacher, I will flay you alive. You abandoned him to die, with no thought for his safety or well-being. You hid yourself away from him and reveled in his death, as it meant your freedom from the shackles of an unwanted marriage. The only reason you returned was to try and use my son as the means to get closer to me. You care nothing for him, and your attempts to curry favor with him will land you in Azkaban.

“I do not know what you and the headmaster are playing at, but mark my words; should you or he step one toe out of line towards my son, I will bury you both. He is mine, and no one will take him from me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, uncle Sev, are you going to fill me in on what that was all about?” Draco asked as he sat next to his godfather on the sofa in front of the fireplace. They were in Snape’s private quarters, with Crispin in the library, trying to find more information for their History of Magic essay. Draco had told his friend that he wanted to talk to his godfather about after hours potions tutoring. The raven absently nodded his friend away, eyes intent on the book in front of him.

“Professor Carrion is Lily Potter in disguise,” Severus said baldly, startling the blond. “Apparently she had approached the headmaster to help her get ‘closer’ to her son, and use him to get closer to me. His idea was to put her in place as the HOM professor, under a glamour that I can’t remove. It must be anchored to something she’s wearing, but I am unable to figure out what that is. I knew she would try something in her class to get closer to Crispin, and I waited outside to see what she would do.

“She was about to tell him that she was his mother, but I interrupted the conversation and sent him on his way. I then told her, in no uncertain terms, that should she continue to play this dangerous game, both she and Albus would face the wrong end of my wand.  I've since added alert wards to the Prince ring he wears, to let me know if Lily's magical signature is near him when it's not supposed to be.  I will not have her damaging him any more than she already has.”

“Is she daft?” Draco barked incredulously. “Doesn’t she understand that neither Crispin nor you are interested in any sort of reconciliation? Never mind that, she must be monumentally stupid to think that she has anything either of you want.”

“She’s desperate and lonely,” Severus told the blond with a moue of disgust on his face. “She threw away a chance at happiness when she chose James Potter over me, and then she buried that chance under a heaping pile of dragon dung when she decided to kill my son. In her mind, since Crispin survived that night, we can now be a happy family together. Never mind that she’s displayed a remarkable lack of love for the child to whom she’d given birth. Never mind that her selfish, self-centered ramblings about my being her ‘one true love’ turn my stomach. She’s deluded herself into thinking that what she did was acceptable, and that I would understand her desperation and her love.

“She’s got absolutely nothing to offer me. Any love I had for her wilted when I found out that she was willing to sacrifice Crispin for her own selfish needs. I will never choose anyone over my child, and the sooner she realizes that, the better things will be in the long run. I don’t want you to tell Crispin about Lily’s presence in the school,” Severus cautioned the blond. “He doesn’t need to know that she’s trying to win me back, and he doesn’t need to know that he doesn’t factor anywhere in his mother’s plans to secure her own happiness.”

“Okay, uncle Sev,” Draco told his godfather with a sad smile. “I swear I won’t tell Crispin any of what’s going on. However, that promise goes out the door if I see her hurt him in any way, even if it’s vicariously through someone else’s actions. She hurts him, I’ll hurt her.”

Chapter 8

“Hi,” a voice said as Crispin was once again in the school library. This time it was a potions essay given by his father; with him were Draco, Blaise, Theo and Dean Thomas. Crispin’s thoughts on muggleborns had not changed much; he was still rather indifferent to them, since he didn’t know any. Thomas quickly ‘educated’ the raven by introducing himself to the other boy and striking up a lively conversation about sports. Though the Snape heir didn’t have a real working knowledge of muggle sports, that didn’t stop Dean from providing the other boy with magazines and articles about the various athletic endeavors that the muggle world had on display. Draco had joined the pair an hour later, to find them engrossed in talk of rugby. The blond sat down and listened with fascination as Dean explained the rules of the sport and how it was generally played. With this first introduction to a different culture of wizard, Crispin began to question uncle Lucius’ rabid hatred of muggleborns.

The voice belonged to a bushy haired girl who had a slight overbite and oozed smug superiority from every pore. Emerald eyes looked indifferently at the girl, an eyebrow raised in mild irritation at the interruption. Apparently, along with the smugness was an obliviousness that bordered on stupidity as she barreled on as if someone had responded, pulling out a chair and sitting down without invitation. “My name is Hermione Granger, and you’re Harry Potter, the Savior of the wizarding world. I know everything about you.”

“Do you?” Draco drawled sarcastically, looking at the girl as if she had two heads. “Then you would know that his name is Crispin Severus Snape, and he is not this Savior that everyone rabbits on about.”

“Oh, but he is,” Hermione insisted eagerly. “I’ve read everything about him, and how his mum died protecting him. He is prophesied to vanquish He Who Must Not Be Named, and the scar on his forehead is proof that he’s our Chosen One. I even know about the kind, loving muggle relatives with whom he was sent to live. He’s a beacon of hope for the entire wizarding world.”

“I’m right here,” Crispin growled, already having had enough of the rude, obnoxious girl. “Please stop talking about me as if I’m not sitting here, listening to the codswallop you’re spouting. My name is Crispin Severus Snape. My father is Severus Tobias Snape; he was proven to be my father by a simple blood test. Everything you’ve read is a lie, perpetrated by that annoying pest reporter Rita Skeeter. I’ve no doubt that the headmaster spoon fed her every bit of supposed ‘knowledge’ about me.”

“You can’t talk about the great Albus Dumbledore like that,” the bushy haired beaver replied, scandalized. “He’s a powerful, brilliant wizard who vanquished the Dark Lord Grindelwald and saved the wizarding world. He deserves your respect and high regard.”

“He deserves a swift boot up the arse,” Blaise chimed in, with everyone else at the table nodding enthusiastic agreement. “He had no legal right to abandon a magical child in the muggle world. There were plenty of willing families to take him in. Besides, he wasn’t orphaned at all. His father, had he known about his son, would have gladly taken him in, had he been notified by Crispin’s mother.” The scorn was rich in the dark-skinned Italian’s voice and it made the girl flinch harshly.

“You dare,” she hissed, deeply offended at the slight. “Lily Potter is the bravest witch ever. She sacrificed her life to protect her son. That deserves to be honored and revered, and she deserves to be celebrated as a heroine.” Theo, knowing the truth as all of the raven-haired child's friends did, was opening his mouth to correct the muggleborn, but a shake of the raven’s head stopped him.

“She doesn’t rate any sort of honesty,” the brunet told everyone, dismissing Granger without saying a single word to her. “Let her have her delusions; we have classwork to finish.” With hums of agreement all around, the boys bent their heads to their parchments and began to write again, obviously dismissing and snubbing the arrogant girl. She sputtered for a few moments more before finally leaving the table with a loud huff.

“Now I understand uncle Lucius’ disdain of muggleborns, if most of them are like that,” the Prince heir muttered quietly.

“It’s not that bad,” Dean felt he needed to speak up, to dispel the misconception before it could take root. “Most of us come here not knowing anything, and with no one to teach us, we’re left floundering in unfamiliar waters. We want to fit in; to be a part of a world that is truly ours. It’s hard, though, when everyone else treats us like we’re inconsequential; like we don’t even matter. So, we don’t put in much effort to try and learn about the magical world, because it doesn’t offer anything worthwhile for us to want to stay.”

“I can understand that,” Crispin said softly, sympathetic eyes on Dean. “It’s hard to fit in somewhere when you know you’re not welcome. Believe me, I have had some experience with the feelings being left out generates. I’ll have a talk with uncle Lucius, and see if we can’t offer something like wizarding culture, customs and traditions here for those who come from outside our borders.”

“It would be a great start,” Dean said happily. “Maybe after a few years of the class being offered to the first years, we’ll be able to reinstate some of the traditions and rituals again. I’ve been doing some independent study since I got here, and I find the rites fascinating. The celebrations for the equinoxes and solstices can only help solidify our unity as one world. If we can get rid of the ignorance that creates the rift between muggleborns and the rest of the wizarding populace, we’ll stand a better chance of coming together in a crisis and surviving relatively intact.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Dad?” Crispin said as he sailed into his father’s private rooms that weekend. Draco was already there waiting for him, as were Lucius and Narcissa.

“Yes, son?” Severus replied with a grin.

“I wanted to do an extra credit report for History of Magic, but you told me to stay away from professor Carrion.”

“Well,” Snape said thoughtfully, “why don’t you tell me about your project, and I’ll see if I can speak with her about it.”

“All right,” the raven said doubtfully as he sat on the sofa next to Draco. “I mean, I’d like to talk to her myself, but if you feel it wouldn’t be right, I’ll abide by your decision.”

“I cannot tell you right now why I’ve made the decision I did,” the Potions Master said to his son, voice pleading for understanding. “Please just trust me that I know what’s best.”

“Okay,” Crispin chirped after a few moments’ contemplation of his father's words, “I thought I’d do a report on the Sorting Hat.”

“Come again?” Lucius asked incredulously.

“Well,” the child replied with a laugh, “I was given a choice of Houses when I was sorted. I could either go to Ravenclaw or Slytherin. I chose Ravenclaw. Greg Goyle had the choice of Hufflepuff or Slytherin, and he chose Hufflepuff. I want to find out if all the students are given a choice, or if only a few are, and why they’re given that choice. I want to know what factors go into a sorting; is it just personality or does family history have an influence? What about magical affinity? Is intelligence considered for all Houses or is it just Ravenclaw? I want to get information on the magic used to make the decisions, and from where the magic came. I want to know if the Hat has its own magic, or if it’s connected to Hogwarts somehow, and the spirit of the school helps in the decisions.”

“You’ve...been thinking about this for some time, haven’t you, darling?” Narcissa asked with a proud smile.

“I have,” the preteen replied with a blush. “All aspects of magic fascinate me, and I want to learn it all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Prince heir had sent a very long letter to his uncle, explaining all he had discovered when talking to, not only Dean Thomas, but Justin Finch-Fletchley, Kevin Entwhistle and Terry Boot as well. He had gleaned quite a bit of information from them outlining what they thought of the wizarding world, and what their expectations were before they had entered it. A lot of what they’d been taught came from muggle fairy tales, religious texts and legends, which had described magicals as the spawn of Satan, or as criminals intent on stealing the life force from their children.

Magic, in and of itself, was seen as a fantasy; other than the performers who did sleight of hand parlor tricks for the muggles’ entertainment, there was no real magic to be found anywhere. Even love, which at one time was thought to be the greatest magic, had lost much of its power in the hustle and bustle of busy muggle life. So when the muggleborns learned that they were magical, and were set to attend Hogwarts, many of them were afraid of what they would see; of what they would learn. Without any sort of introduction or references from which to gain information, they were left in the dark about this strange new power that was considered an abomination by much of the muggle world.

Many muggleborns turned their backs on their birthright and refused to attend a school of magic. This left the wizarding world vulnerable to exposure and discovery, since those who remained untrained would have no control over how or when an unexpected, accidental magical display would occur. Ignorant of the fact that their magic reacted to their emotions, they put themselves in high-stress situations, where anger and irritation would result in displays unexpectedly falling over, or computer monitors suddenly shorting out. Poltergeist activity in homes where a muggleborn lived was blamed for the accidental magic reacting to the muggleborn’s anger, fury or sadness.

Exorcisms in particularly religious areas of the country were performed on those muggleborn infants and toddlers who had exhibited accidental magic, which resulted in an escalation of deaths of those children as a result of the stress of the religious ritual. When Crispin had suggested that Lucius get in touch with muggle newspapers to get copies of the obituaries of children, the blond had found an appallingly large number of children dying by ‘accident’. The infants’ deaths were blamed on SIDS; a syndrome that didn’t affect magical children because their magic kept them alive.

So, taking matters into his own hands, he contacted the funeral homes and mortuaries in an effort to get the autopsy reports for those deaths. He used his charms and an obscene amount of cash to get the records, so that he could see first-hand how magicals in the muggle world were treated. For every parent proud of their child for being magical, there were ten who had turned to their parish priests or their own fists to try and drive the evil out of their children. It was then that the blond knew that something had to be done; that he had to somehow save as many magicals as he could from death.

He approached the Unspeakables, and asked them to create some form of testing, to see if the muggleborns came from magic, instead of their power just appearing. He wanted to know if there was something that gave them magic, whether it be the goddess or genetics. He knew that the research would take a long time, and was willing to set aside his prejudices for the time being, just so that he could prevent the loss of further magical talent, no matter the package. With that thought in mind, he began to entreat the Wizarding Child Welfare Office to set up a squad to monitor the well-being of every muggleborn from birth. If the child seemed to be in distress caused by his or her parents, he or she was to be taken immediately from the situation and relocated with wizarding families willing to foster.

When the muggleborns that were in good families were ready to come to Hogwarts, they would automatically be enrolled in the new Wizarding Culture and Traditions class, where they would learn all that they needed to navigate the shark-infested waters of the wizarding world. The class would start in Crispin’s second year, which meant that those first years attending Hogwarts now would not be able to attend the class. However, the professor was willing to tutor any muggleborns that had missed out on the opportunity, as long as it didn’t interfere with their regular class schedules or homework.

The Prince heir was thrilled that his uncle had listened to him; not only had Lucius listened, but he acted, giving the raven hope that their world would start progressing to a brighter future. His muggleborn friends were also excited for the changes, glad that a pureblood was taking their plight very seriously for a change. That it was Malfoy only made it better.

Chapter 9

“Hello, Mr. Snape,” said a husky feminine voice. Crispin looked up, surprised to see professor Carrion standing on the other side of the table at which he sat. He was in the library again, starting his research for the extra credit assignment that the professor had given him permission to write. Draco had disappeared into the stacks, looking for information for his transfiguration essay, and Dean and Theo were running a little late, leaving the Snape heir alone with the instructor.

“Good afternoon, professor,” the child replied respectfully. “May I help you?”

“I just wanted to touch base with you for a moment,” she replied as she sat across from him. “I am quite impressed with your marks so far, and was very surprised and pleased when professor Snape asked for permission to do an extra credit project on your behalf. I was disappointed that you didn’t ask me personally, but I understand that your father placed restrictions on your movements for your safety.”

“Since you know that I’m not permitted to approach you in any way, what are you doing here?” Crispin asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously on the woman seated across from him.

“As I said, I wanted to touch base. You see…” Before she could finish, she screeched in shocked pain, jumping from her seat and spinning around to face an enraged Draco Malfoy, whose wand was out and aiming unerringly at her.

“Your movements in regards to Crispin Snape have been restricted, as per the directions of his father,” the blond snarled, slowly approaching the older woman menacingly. Carrion backed away from the angry boy step for step as he approached her, trembling slightly in genuine fear. “Be grateful it was only a stinging hex that got your backside. If I see you anywhere near him outside of class, I will terminate you, and they’ll never find the body.” With the blond preteen’s threat ringing in her ears, Lily fled the library with as much grace as she could, maintaining her speed until she reached her private quarters. Once inside, she collapsed against the closed door, panting harshly while fighting to get her stampeding heart under control.

Finally calm, she went to the sofa in front of her fireplace and dropped gracelessly into it, disguised emerald eyes staring morosely at the flames. I must talk with my son , she thought angrily, fist pounding on the sofa cushion beside her. I need to make him understand that Severus and I belong together. That Severus and I are a family. I need to convince him to speak with Severus, and have him talk his father round to allowing me back into his life. I’ll just die if I can’t have Severus all to myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Umm, not that I’m complaining, Draco, but what was that all about?” Crispin asked his best friend. “She only wanted to talk to me. It isn’t like she was some sort of threat to me.”

“Your father doesn’t want that woman anywhere near you for good reason, Crispin,” the blond replied fiercely. “She’s a danger to your home and family, and I’ll do anything to protect you from her.”

“All right,” the brunet said, emerald eyes narrowed on his friend, “what do you know?”

“I...I can’t say,” Draco replied sheepishly. “I promised your father that I’d keep an eye on you, but not to say why. Please trust that we only have your best interests at heart.”

“She’s a new professor,” Crispin murmured to himself thoughtfully. “Both you and Dad are highly suspicious of her. She seems inordinately interested in me…” Eyes widened in pained surprise as all of the pieces fell into place. “It’s Lily Potter, isn’t it?” the raven whispered, shocked. Draco nodded dejectedly, grimacing at the pain that flared in the other boy’s eyes. “She’s here to try and get close to Dad, and sees me as a way to do that.” Another nod had Crispin fuming. “Dumbledore knows, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” the blond replied softly, his own voice reflecting his pain at Crispin’s anguish-laden voice. “Father thinks that he allowed that woman to become part of the staff so that he could use her to get closer to you, since you’ve refused to become his puppet.”

“Puppet for what, I wonder?” the Prince heir asked softly, pain forgotten in the quest for more information. When Draco could only shrug, the raven’s eyes hardened. “Well, I suppose we’ll need to take this to the source. We’ll have a talk with Dad, uncle Lucius and uncle Tom this weekend at the manor. I’ll have my answers, one way or another.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Severus, I wish to speak with you,” Covidia Carrion said as she sailed into the potions classroom the following day. Ebon eyes widened in surprise at the woman’s cheek, before narrowing angrily.

“We have nothing about which to speak,” he snarled, glaring at her with a banked fire in his fathomless dark eyes. “You made your choice when you abandoned my son and left him to die. How do you not understand that your selfishness has in no way earned any of my approbation?”

“But Severus, I did it for us,” she wheedled, hands out in a gesture of pleading. “I thought that if I could get rid of James, then you and I could finally have a life together.”

“And my son?” Snape barked harshly, making the woman flinch back in momentary fear. “What of him?”

“He...he would have been collateral damage. A victim of the war,” she shrugged with no guilt or remorse whatsoever in her tone or demeanor.

“Get out,” Severus hissed, arm rigid and finger pointing at the door. “Do not ever come near me again. Go near my son, and you will wish for death.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Uncle Sev, can I talk to you?” Draco asked softly later that same day. Severus had been in a mood since his confrontation with Lily, and the Gryffindors paid dearly for their idiocy. Even a few Slytherins were on the wrong end of the Potions Master’s tongue. During the whole of the first years Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff class, ebon eyes rarely left Crispin, making the child squirm and wonder what he’d done to earn his father’s wrath.

“What is it, Draco?” the man queried tiredly. “I’m in the middle of an interesting article in Potions Monthly.”

“What did he do?” the Malfoy heir asked abruptly. When ebon eyes met silver in confusion, Draco elaborated. “What did Crispin do to earn your ire?”

“Crispin?” Severus asked incredulously. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You spent our whole class period staring holes through Crispin, to the point that his hands were shaking. What did he do to piss you off so badly?”

Snape heaved a heavy, resigned sigh, grimacing at himself for his stupidity. “My son did absolutely nothing to earn my anger,” he replied, smirking slightly at the relieved sigh the blond had released. “Lily came into my classroom before the start of the first lesson and tried to convince me that we belong together. When I pointed out her selfishness in leaving Crispin to die, she claimed that she had done it for us, so that we could have a life together after James was gone. When I asked, once again, about my son’s life, she shrugged it off; said that he was collateral damage and a ‘victim of the war’. She showed absolutely no remorse or regret for what she had done, and it infuriated me. I told her to get out and to never come near me or my son again.”

“Ah,” Draco said understandingly, then winced, alerting the very observant Potions Master that there was something amiss.

“Draco?” Severus murmured dangerously. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”

“Erm, I told Crispin to let you know what happened, but he didn’t want to worry you.” As ebon brows rose inquiringly, the blond continued. “Yesterday Potter confronted Crispin in the library as professor Carrion. Of course, at the time he didn’t know who it was and didn’t really feel threatened. I was in the stacks, trying to find a book to finish my transfiguration essay and I didn’t know she was there. When I came back out, I saw her sitting at our table, and it looked like she was about to say something unfortunate, so I shot a stinging hex at her backside.

“I was able to interrupt the conversation, and when she turned to me, I told her in no uncertain terms that if she tried to confront Crispin again, I would terminate her, and they’d never find the body. Of course she fled, and I sat back down at our table. Crispin asked me why I did that, and I told him what you wanted me to say. When he pressed it, I reiterated that there was good reason that you and I were cautious around her, but I didn’t elaborate. I just asked him to trust that we knew what we were doing.

“Unfortunately, he started putting puzzle pieces together and came up with the right answer. I had no choice but to confirm everything he’d supposed, and now we’re to have a ‘conversation’ with you, Father, and uncle Tom this weekend at the manor. Crispin wants to know why Potter isn’t in Azkaban, and what the headmaster has up his garishly colored sleeve.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“All right,” Tom said as everyone gathered in the solarium at Malfoy Manor. “I’m told that there are some questions that need to be answered. Crispin, if you will?”

“I want to know why the headmaster wants Lily Potter in school with Dad and I. I want to know why he seeks to establish some sort of control over me, and I want to know why that bitch isn’t in Azkaban right now,” the child barked in one breath. Everyone in the room could feel the boy’s angry magic churning around him, and Narcissa approached the child slowly, a gentle smile on her face.

“Calm, loveling,” she said as she engulfed him in her arms. He relaxed against her, snuggling into her arms and letting go of his ire. “We will answer all you ask, but we may not know the whole of it. I ask that you be patient as we try to find the answers you seek.”

Once he was calm and sitting between his dad and Draco, Tom took up the explanation. “There is a prophecy that states that a child born as the seventh month dies will be able to vanquish the Dark Lord. That the child will be marked as my equal, and that you will have power I know not. One of us has to die so the other might live. Severus brought me the prophecy in full, and I foolishly acted on it, thereby setting it into motion. Had I been aware that you were Severus’ son, I never would have tried to kill you. I would have brought you straight to him, instead of leaving you there to be squirreled away in the muggle world."

Riddle looked sadly at the raven-haired preteen, face wreathed in misery and guilt. “I’m sorry for my role in your misery, Crispin. I was afraid that you would somehow stop me from achieving the goals Magick herself had set for me, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.”

“I don’t blame you, uncle Tom. It was war, and you were doing what you felt was right,” the child told the Dark Lord with a smile, easing some of the guilt the man still felt.

“Albus wants to control you so that he can mold you into the puppet martyr he needs to ‘save the wizarding world'," Riddle continued. "He intends to set you up to sacrifice yourself for the ‘Greater Good’, and he will reap the benefits of your efforts. As for Mrs. Potter, I know that Dumbledore has created a way for her to ‘hide in plain sight’, because Severus had told me that she has a glamour that is impenetrable by any revealing magic. I’m positive that the old man created a nearly perfect paper trail to cover their tracks. We need to figure out how the glamour is anchored, destroy the anchor, and expose both she and Dumbledore for the manipulative frauds they are.”

“I think we need to create a plan to draw her in,” Crispin said with a malicious smile. “Convince her that Dad is willing to forgive and forget, tricking her into believing she has a chance to reconnect with him. As obsessed with him as she is, it’ll be far too easy to con her into believing that Dad and she will have a happy future together, without me. We can stage a couple of arguments within view of her, where Dad expresses his disappointment in me as the rightful Prince heir. From there, it’ll be like taking candy from a baby...literally.”

Chapter 10

“Absolutely not,” the Potions Master barked for the umpteenth time. Tom and Lucius had spent the last hour trying to convince Severus that letting Lily close was a good idea in order for them to glean more information on Dumbledore’s plans. The dour man wasn’t having any of it. “I will not let that bitch anywhere near me,” he snarled, ebon eyes snapping angrily. “I understand that we need to get Albus’ schemes out into the open, but I refuse to allow myself to be bait to lure her in. I cannot stomach the sight of her; she would be exceedingly suspicious if I were to change my attitude now.”

“Not necessarily, Severus,” Lucius tried to calm the man enough to get him to think. “She is so thoroughly obsessed with you that she would take any sort of attention as tacit permission to woo you. All you need do is smile at her, and she will do the rest.”

“Don’t you understand? I cannot do that. I’m not that good of an actor,” Snape responded pleadingly.

“Nonsense, Severus,” Tom said, waving his hand dismissively. “After all, you have the great Albus Dumbledore completely hoodwinked as to your true allegiances. It would be nothing for you to deceive Lady Potter.”

“You don’t get it,” Severus finally snapped harshly, making everyone flinch at the raw anger in his voice. “She left my son to die. She has absolutely no care or concern for him. She only wants to use him to get to me. How would I be able to put aside the deep, abiding hatred I have for her enough to let her close, when every time I think of what she did to my son I want to rip her throat out? Never mind that I have absolutely no intention of letting her near Crispin. How am I to walk that delicate balance of catering to her whims and setting aside my own son’s well-being, just for the minimal chance that she has any information?”

“He has a valid point, dearest,” Narcissa finally chimed in. She had listened to all sides of the circular argument, and though she agreed that they needed information, she also understood the deep need Severus had to protect his only child from the bitch who, with a well-chosen word or action, could completely destroy the boy. “Crispin’s well-being should always take precedence over any scant, possibly erroneous information we may gain from manipulating Lily’s feelings for Severus. I do not think I could split myself in half like that; to ask Severus to do it is unconscionable.”

“We’ll just have to find the information another way,” Crispin said into the heavy silence. He strode over to his father and wrapped his arms around the man, hugging his dad tightly in gratitude for protecting him. He pulled back and smiled up into the Potions Master’s face, relieved to see the rage fade from his father’s dark, fathomless eyes. “Who gave the original prophecy?” the child asked, leaning into his father’s chest happily. Severus’ own arms were wrapped firmly around his child, and he walked backwards until his knees hit the edge of a chair. He sat down, pulling his son onto his lap so that he could cuddle him more comfortably.

“Dumbledore said that Trelawney was the one to give the original,” Snape replied, burying his nose in his son’s hair and letting his boy’s scent soothe his frazzled nerves. “That’s the only reason she has a job at Hogwarts; to protect her from Tom. Albus thinks that the Dark Lord will try and obtain Trelawney, to gain the prophecy straight from the source. He has no idea that you had already retrieved it from the Department of Mysteries after that debacle in Godric’s Hollow, Tom.”

“That is to our advantage,” the Dark Lord murmured softly, eyes distant as he created and discarded ideas. "This way I could listen to the prophecy again straight from the horse's mouth. Not that I didn't trust you, Severus; it's just better to be safe than sorry." Finally, his ruby eyes lit up with malicious glee and he looked at Crispin thoughtfully.

“I’m not quite sure I like the way you’re looking at me, Tom,” the child said hesitantly.

“How would you like to try your hand at Divination?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So I’m required to take Divination in third year,” Crispin lamented to his friends that following Monday. They were in a secluded part of the library, away from prying eyes and ears, with a strong privacy spell around their table. With Crispin and Draco were Theo, Blaise, Pansy, Dean and Seamus. The weekend had been packed with planning at Snape Manor, so Crispin had no opportunity to talk to Draco about the torture he was encouraged to endure.

“Why?” Draco asked incredulously, a moue of disgust on his face. “I mean, after listening to Towler and Akagi drone on and on about the professor’s supposed prowess, I’d think you’d avoid the class like the plague.”

“Uncle Tom thinks I should take the class so that I can try and gain more information on the headmaster’s plans for me,” the raven replied with a sigh. “At first, we thought Dad could convince Potter that he was willing to give her another chance. After Father refused, however, and explained why he couldn’t do it, everyone decided to change tack and go at our information gathering from another direction. Personally, I don’t think I’ll glean anything useful from the daft woman, but it’s better than putting my dad through the stress and anguish of trying to ‘flirt’ with Potter.”

“That’s...an incredibly unfair way to treat your dad,” Pansy said, censure in her voice. “To try and use him like that is rather disgusting.”

“We understand that, Parkinson,” Crispin snapped angrily, making the girl flinch. “The headmaster has plans for me, and from the looks of it, they aren’t in any way beneficial to me. Father wants to protect me from the old man’s schemes, and uncle Tom, uncle Lucius and I thought that manipulating Potter would be the way to go about it. None of us understood how harmful that would be to Dad; had we realized, I never would have suggested it in the first place.

“We need that information,” the preteen continued, a hint of desperation in his voice. “I don’t want his nefarious plots to bite me in the arse when I least expect it; nor do I want him to hurt any of my friends in his quest to have things his way. I just don’t know how we’re going to learn anything, short of allowing him to ‘influence’ me in some way. I’m not this ‘Savior’ that he wants. I have no intention of going against my family, but if I put myself in his hands, that’s what I’ll likely have to do, even if it is pretend. I don't think I can hurt my family or myself like that, and I don't want to.”

“It is quite a sticky mess you’re in,” said a voice from behind the child, startling the hell out of him. Turning in his seat, his emerald eyes were wide on a pair of redheaded twins, whilst wands were pointed at the duo as the rest of the table leapt to Crispin’s defense.

“How did you get past the privacy ward?” Draco barked belligerently. Both teens threw up their hands in surrender, blue eyes wide on the fierce faces of the group.

“We’ve been following you lot around for the last couple of weeks,” the twin on the left said, their hands still in the air. Slowly wands were lowered and placed on the table within easy reach, and the redheads dropped their hands with a sigh of relief.

“We were curious why you kept meeting,” the twin on the right continued, “since some of you are Gryffindors.”

“We thought we’d join you, since it looks like you're up to something sneaky,” the first twin chimed in.

“And sneaky is what we do best,” the second twin finished.

After deciphering the twin-speak, Crispin smiled hesitantly at the pair. “Who are you, and how did you find us?” he asked quietly, waving them over to join the rest of the first years at their table. The teens quickly sat down and reinforced the privacy ward before answering.

“My name is Fred Weasley,” said the redhead to the right of Crispin.

“My name is George Weasley,” said the twin to the left of Crispin. “We found you using a map we discovered last year in Filch’s office,” George continued, while Fred pulled an old, weathered piece of parchment from an inner pocket of his robes. He lay it flat on the table, and all eyes were on it curiously.

“It’s just a blank piece of parchment,” Draco scoffed after a few moments, when nothing happened. “How does that show you anything?”

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” Fred murmured as he touched the parchment with his wand. Seconds later, dark lines began to run all over the paper, curving and squiggling, until a complete map of the interior and exterior of Hogwarts was visible. Gasps flew around the table as all eyes watched the footprints of hundreds of students, whether they were walking to destinations or sitting in classrooms. Each set was labeled with a name, and often names were stacked on top of each other in a jumble of indecipherable alphabet. The professors’ names were by the footprints at the head of classes, walking toward the staff room or Great Hall, or pacing within quarters. The kids could see the names of ghosts floating through the jumbles with no prints visible to them. All in all it was a dead useful piece of parchment.

“We use this to scout out the castle and sneak around without getting caught,” George said gleefully as he stared at the map. “We’ve been able to duck prefects, the head boy and girl, and a variety of professors using this.”

“Who made this?” Crispin asked with an awe-filled voice.

“Someone who called themselves Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail,” Fred replied, brow puckered into a frown. “We haven’t been able to figure out who they are yet, but I have a feeling that we’re really close to an answer.”

“I remember seeing something with those names in the heritage vault I received from James Potter,” Crispin said thoughtfully. “It was some sort of journal, and the nicknames were next to the real names. Prongs was James, Padfoot was someone named Sirius Black, Moony was someone named Remus Lupin, and Wormtail was someone named Peter Pettigrew.” Draco’s eyes met Crispin’s in recognition of the last name.

"Your father was a Marauder?" George squealed, sounding disturbingly like a fangirl.

"He wasn't my father, and I guess so," the raven replied with a laugh.

“So, if this was made by James Potter, by rights it belongs to you, since you are the named Potter heir,” Fred said as he slid the map in front of Crispin. The preteen immediately shook his head and slid it back to Fred.

“No, it doesn’t,” the child demurred with a smile. “I only inherited James Potter's estate because he named me his heir in his will. He didn’t know that Severus sired me. If he did, I’m sure that he would have put his estate in trust until another Potter heir could be born or found. This map belongs to you, since you found it and claimed it.”

“Are you sure?” George asked, eyebrows hitting his hairline in surprise.

“I’m positive,” Crispin replied with a grin. “I’ve no doubt that you two will get far more use out of it than I ever could.”

“Speaking of,” Pansy interrupted, “since you obviously heard at least part of our conversation, tell us why you’ve decided to crash the meeting.”

“We don’t like Albus Dumbledore,” George replied with a frown.

“Our family, however, is completely devoted to the mad old crackpot,” Fred added, his own face morphed into a scowl.

“If you’re planning something that will get him sacked, we’re all for it,” they said in unison.

“We know that he has something planned for Crispin,” Blaise told the twins seriously. “We don’t know what it is, but it involves an undesirable spy in the castle and we’re trying to work out how to get the information without involving us manipulating the spy.”

“You mean Lily Potter disguised as professor Carrion?” Fred asked as he looked at the History of Magic classroom on the map. In front of a room full of students, the footprints of Lily Potter paced back and forth, with everyone assuming that she was lecturing the class.

“Huh,” Dean said thoughtfully as he watched the map for a moment. “That thing holds no secrets whatsoever, does it?”

“Not a one,” George replied with a grin. “We knew who she was from the moment we walked into her class. Now, would you like to explain to us how a dead woman is teaching at Hogwarts?”

Chapter 11

She stands outside the little cottage in Godric’s Hollow under the strongest disillusionment charm that she knows, watching as Lord Voldemort hammers at the wards. The polyjuiced homeless girl is in place, ready to play her imperiused part to rid Lily of the burden of caring for an unwanted child. That night she spent with Severus wasn’t supposed to produce issue; she was sure that contraceptive charms were used. For whatever reason they didn’t work and now she is watching as her well-crafted plan unfolds. The explosion as the Dark Lord attacks her stand-in and Harry is monumental and destroys part of the nursery. Smiling grimly, Lily stays and watches, hoping that the house catches fire and erases all evidence of what she has done.

Her eyes widen as she sees Voldemort escape the house wholly intact but for a gash above his eye. Listening closely, she can hear a baby’s wail and she scowls, infuriated that her plan hasn’t worked. She lifts her wand, to apparate away or finish the job, she isn't sure, hesitating for a moment as rustling sounds reach her ears. Her eyes widen as she spies her beloved Severus staggering through the underbrush at the back of the cottage. He rounds the building and stares up at the collapsed portion of the roof for a moment before rushing inside. She can hear his footsteps thundering up the stairs, the hollow echoes reverberating in her ears. A pained wail reaches her and she stares up at the destroyed nursery, tears springing to her eyes as she listens to Snape scream his anguish.

A pop directly in front of the cottage startles her out of her heartbreak and her eyes widen as she watches Albus Dumbledore enter the house. A quieter pop from the nursery alerts her to the fact that Severus has left just moments before she hears Albus’ own sadness at her death and the destruction of the Potter family. She cannot hear anything else from the nursery and once again prepares to leave, but the roar of an engine halts her and she turns to see a flying motorbike land on the front lawn. Hagrid immediately goes to his master and there is murmured conversation that she cannot hear. Soon enough Hagrid exits from the hole in the side of the house, jumping down and placing the wrapped up bundle that is her son in the sidecar before starting the engine and taking off. Albus stands in the opening, watching as the motorbike disappears into the distant sky. He cuts a dashing heroic figure as he poses there, a breeze lifting his hair back and playing with his long beard before he turns away to exit the house.

Lily suspects she knows where Albus has sent Harry, and she apparates to the park in Little Whinging that is a few houses down from number four. Though Petunia and she didn’t keep in touch, she does know where her sister lives, having sent the woman some gifts upon the birth of Dudley. They were never acknowledged or returned, so she put her sister out of her mind. Now however, she is there to see her son dropped off before she leaves Great Britain for good. She knows that she mustn’t show her face in wizarding England again, and the only thought she has is for Severus Snape. Her son barely merits a flicker of acknowledgment and that is the hope that Petunia doesn’t hurt him too badly.

Lily jerked awake as the dream faded, her memories playing with her in the night. This was the fifth consecutive week that she’d had the dream and a small part of her conscience, the one that had remained intact through her single-minded selfishness, twinged at her complete lack of care for her son. It was quickly buried under the morass of half-formed plans to get Severus back using Crispin as the bait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Remy?”

“Yeah, Siri?”

“Do you know where Harry is?”

“Nope. Just like you I fled England when the Dark Lord fell.”

“Don’t you think we should go find him?”

“Nope. Albus said he’d take care of Harry should anything happen to Lily and James. I’d rather leave it up to him.”

“But he’s my godson. I should be the one taking care of him.”

“You can barely take care of yourself, Padfoot. Leave everything to Albus. I’m positive that Harry’s being well cared for. We don’t need to worry about unnecessary things.”

“He’s not unnecessary,” Sirius mumbled as he walked away from Remus. “He’s my godson and I was entrusted with his care. Not Albus.” He walked out of the manor they were in and to the forest that abutted the property. Changing into his animagus form, the black dog ran through the woods, scaring up small woodland creatures with which he could play and chase. Eventually he’d worked out enough of his restless energy that he transformed back into his human form. He stood by the crystal clear lake in the center of the woods, his thoughts on Harry and what he could do to get into contact with the last of his family. James had been so much like a brother to him that they had performed a blood brother bonding ritual to bind them much closer to each other. In all essences of blood and magic, they were family in every way possible. Harry was his nephew; James had entrusted him with a sacred duty and he couldn’t shirk it, no matter how cowardly Remus Lupin was acting now. Decision firmly made, Sirius returned to the manor and entered the den, sitting at the desk meant for the current Lord Black. Pulling a piece of parchment and a quill to him, he began.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The owl sailed into the Great Hall with a letter clutched in its talon, heading directly for Crispin at the Ravenclaw table. Severus sat up and watched closely as it landed in front of his son. The creature was unfamiliar to the Potions Master, but the tensing of the headmaster clued the younger man in to the fact that the missive was unwelcome. Narrowed ebon eyes watched as Draco cast a plethora of detection charms on the letter to ensure that it wasn’t cursed in any way before his son took it, trading it for a few slices of bacon from his plate. He watched as Crispin cracked the seal on the envelope and drew the parchment out. When the Snape heir looked at his father, emerald eyes burning with rage, ebon brows flew into his hairline in shock.

Severus watched as Crispin rose and approached the head table, heading straight for him. “We need to talk,” he barked quietly. Nodding, Snape rose and followed his son to the dungeons where they entered the potions professor’s private quarters. Draco was right behind them, his own mercury colored eyes swirling with unidentifiable emotions. “What seems to be the trouble, son?” Severus asked as the boys sat on the sofa in front of the fire. Wordlessly Crispin handed the letter to his father, eyes shuttered.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Drumnadrochit

Inverness IV63 6JS, UK

 

Dear Harry,

I don’t know if you know this, but I’m your godfather. My name is Sirius Black and your father James made me godfather. James was my best friend and brother and it broke my heart when he died. I...I left the country with my other friend Remus Lupin when He Who Must Not Be Named was vanquished. There was a lot of upheaval at that time, and Remy and I thought we’d be better off elsewhere.

I wanted to get in touch with you to see if you’re doing all right. I know that Albus put you with a loving family, but I think it’s time I come back and claim my rights as godfather to take care of you. I can tell you all about your parents, James and Lily, and how much they adored you. I want to get to know you and take care of you like I was supposed to from the beginning. My first duty should have been to you. I want to make up for that now, if you’ll let me.

I love you, pup, and want to be there for you no matter what. You have a long hard road ahead and I want to be there to bolster you when you need it. Just tell me when and where we can meet and I’ll come get you. I have a great big house with a room set aside just for you.

Till then,

Sirius

“Black is not your godfather,” Severus told his son once he’d finished the letter. “That naming privilege is mine, and I already designated a godfather for you. He is operating under the misunderstanding that James was your father. That is the only reason he has contacted you. Why he waited this long is anyone’s guess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Estate

Rainstown

Duckett's Grove R93 RF80

County Carlow, IE

 

Mr. Black,

My name is Crispin Severus Snape. I was never Harry Potter. Lily had a one night stand with Severus and I am the result. You have absolutely no claim on me whatsoever. My father has designated a godfather for me and it isn’t you. He’s told me about the treatment to which you and James had subjected him, and I must say that I am disgusted. To think that the heir of a most noble and ancient house would act like a common hooligan, a thug and a bully just boggles my mind.

Do not contact me again. You have absolutely no claim on me and I’ll thank you to ignore my existence. After all, it’s what you’re best at if your complete abandonment of your supposed responsibilities is anything to go by. I don’t want to hear any excuses about why you had to leave and why you didn’t bother to wonder how I was until now. I couldn’t care less.

Heir-Lord Crispin Severus Snape

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Unbelieveable!” came a shout from the library. Remus speed walked to the second floor room, entering to see Sirius stomping about, waving his arms frantically as he cursed up a storm.

“Sirius?” the werewolf queried, startling the Black Lord out of his bitch session. Turning, his grey eyes narrowed on the lycan for a moment before he advanced, waving a piece of parchment around angrily.

“This came in this morning,” he barked as he thrust it at Remus. Amber eyes scanned the parchment, eyebrows fleeing into his hairline in shock at the coldness of the words on the page.

“Why did this arrive?” he asked softly, looking at Sirius accusingly.

“I...I may have written Harry,” Sirius replied sheepishly. “I wanted a chance to get to know him, so I asked him if we could meet. This is what he sent back.”

“He says he’s not Harry Potter,” Remus murmured as he read through the letter again. “Maybe it went to the wrong person.”

“If it did, then there are two children who know exactly who Lily and James are and not the legends that they've been made out to be,” Sirius said, frowning. “Since I doubt that anyone else would lay claim to being thought of as Harry Potter, I have to believe that this is real.”

“But...but James and Lily loved each other. She wouldn’t cheat on him, would she?”

“I don’t know,” the animagus growled quietly. “She came to Hogwarts hanging all over Snivellus, and it wasn’t until fifth year that she even paid any sort of attention to James. I thought she’d finally realized what a waste of space and air Snape really was, but maybe it was the connections he was making that turned her away. She’s not here to answer any of our questions, so we may never know how it happened. Besides, there are ways to find out whether or not a child belongs to a specific person, and I’m sure that Snivellus had done just that. So, along with losing our best friends, we’ve also lost Harry.”

“We’ve never had Harry,” Remus felt the need to remind Sirius. “The Potter heir never existed. Who we fell in love with was Severus’ son. James died October thirty-first, nineteen eighty one and with him died the entire Potter dynasty. Now more than ever, there is no reason for us to return to Great Britain. That part of our lives is over.”

“No,” Sirius disagreed with a firm shake of his head, “it’s not. I need to know what happened. I need to know why Lily felt the need to cheat on James. Something doesn’t feel right here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

Chapter 12

The floo in the headmaster’s office flared green flames for a moment before a face breached the fire. “Hello, Albus,” said a familiar voice. Blue eyes widened on the werewolf’s image before Dumbledore stalked over to the fireplace, anger swirling around the man in visible waves.

“Remus,” he growled lowly, summoning a chair to sit down. “I was not best pleased to see a letter from Sirius come to the castle. What are you doing contacting Harry?”

“First of all, we received a response telling us that the boy is not Harry Potter. I’m contacting you because we want to know what happened. How did Lily become involved enough with Snape to result in a child?”

“The boy is the spitting image of James,” Dumbledore said soothingly. “He was playing a practical joke on Sirius when he sent that letter. Harry may be a little miffed that his godfather seemingly abandoned him, but I am sure that things will smooth out in time. Just give me a few months to speak with him. I’ll get him to see reason by the end of the year.”

“Good,” Remus replied. “It’s nice to see the next generation of Marauders living up to the name. He had Sirius going for quite a long time. Once I explain things to Padfoot he should be all right. Now, the second reason I’m calling is we’d like to return to Great Britain now that all the furor has died down, and I’d like to obtain the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts, if you’re still having trouble keeping it staffed.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, my boy, and quite timely, as well. I had Quirinus Quirrell take the post after his sojourn in Albania over this past summer, thinking that his research may have given him a better understanding of Dark Arts. Alas, he came back with such a drastic change of personality that the students are complaining. It seems that he’d had a rather unpleasant run-in with a coven of vampires and has since become a shell of the man he once was. He startles easily at everything and stutters so badly that the students can barely understand him, let alone learn anything. You would definitely be a welcome addition to the staff here, and I am pleased to tell you that your lycanthropy will not be a problem. Those anti-werewolf laws have been repealed and your safety amongst our society is assured.”

“I’m...surprised and pleased to hear that, Albus,” Remus told the man, eyes wide. “Who’s been behind the changes? It can’t be that incompetent, Fudge.”

“Lucius Malfoy, if you can believe it, has been at the forefront of gaining more equal rights for magical creatures. He’s had systems put into place for both werewolves and vampires to see them safely integrated with wizarding society. Wolfsbane is offered at a bargain through a Ministry-sanctioned apothecary and there are blood banks and a volunteer donor registry for the vampires. I never thought I’d see the day where pure blood was no longer the only thing that mattered.

“In fact,” Albus crowed disbelievingly, “Lord Malfoy has secured Ministry funds to build primary schools for the muggleborns. His feeling, and I agree wholeheartedly, is that if they are educated earlier they’ll be able to fit into our society more fully. Additionally, the schools will serve to help get those muggleborns abused by their caretakers into safer homes. There’s already a long list of magical families willing to foster them. We’re also instituting a wizarding culture class here at Hogwarts next term, so that those in loving muggle families can be educated to our ways. I never thought someone who was so pedantic about his heritage and breeding would be instrumental in protecting the muggleborns.”

“Malfoy,” Remus murmured, shocked. “I’m quite impressed. Sure he doesn’t have an agenda?”

“None that I can see,” Albus responded, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “I am keeping a close eye on things, just to make sure. Anyway, make sure that you inform the Ministry that you’ll take the post next term. Until then, my boy.” The floo shut down but Dumbledore remained seated, his jocular façade fading as his blue eyes narrowed angrily. Blast and damn, he thought churlishly. I was hoping that Black and Lupin would stay gone. I do not need them interfering with my attempts to mold my weapon. Perhaps I can get them to work with me to maintain control over Harry. That child...he actually responded to Black’s letter and told him the truth. Fortunately Remus is so deeply indebted to me that he’ll believe anything I say. Now, how to use Sirius...

Perhaps I can get him to use the Black seats to overturn some of the legislation. I’d also like to see those schools closed down and the new class stopped before it can get a foothold and undo everything I’ve accomplished in keeping the masses uneducated. The weaker they are, the more powerful I can become as the strongest wizard alive. Muggleborns need to be kept ignorant of their heritage; as long as they are unaware of their rights and responsibilities as wizards and witches I can more fully control how our world works. Utilizing the muggleborns as scapegoats to keep the purebloods in line was a stroke of genius. If those schools and this culture class succeed, it'll ruin my chances to keep tight control of the wizarding world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m going to be the DADA professor next term,” Remus told his mate later that day.

“Really?” Sirius asked disbelievingly. “Are you sure that you’ll be able to? I know that the laws governing werewolves are quite restrictive. I’m just surprised that Albus would allow it.”

“Funnily enough, Lucius Malfoy has had the laws restricting magical creatures changed to be more fair,” Lupin told his spouse softly. “Albus sounded a little agitated at the ideas put forth and enacted by Malfoy. That supposed pureblood supremacist even put programs into place to help the muggleborns.”

“Lucius ‘purebloods rule’ Malfoy?!” Padfoot gasped incredulously.

“Yep,” the lycanthrope responded with a chuckle. His demeanor grew serious as he imparted the rest of the conversation. “Albus still insists that it’s Harry Potter at school, in spite of the letter we’d received to the contrary. Something’s not right here, but I won’t know what it is until I get to the school.”

“We’ll move to Grimmauld Place, then,” Black said with a frown. “We’ll take the rest of the time we have to fix up the place so at least it’s habitable. I’ve found a spell that will take Mother’s portrait off of the wall so we don’t have to hear her caterwauling at all hours. I also need to work out something for Kreacher. I don’t like the elf, but maybe I can find somewhere more suitable for him. Who knows? Maybe Malfoy can take him off our hands in trade for one of his elves.”

“Once we’ve settled in, I think we need to invite the Snapes over for dinner,” Moony told his mate, eyeing the man to make sure he wouldn’t lose his cool.

“Agreed,” Sirius nodded with a frown. “I’d like to get to the bottom of this whole mess. Something just isn’t sitting right with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A fiery bird burst into the Potions Master’s private quarters and dropped a battered felt hat in Crispin's lap. Before anyone could say anything, the bird flamed away, leaving behind minor chaos. “What the bloody hell was that ?” Draco barked aggressively.

“That was Dumbledore’s phoenix, Fawkes,” Severus replied with a frown. “I did not expect him to be a sort of carrier pigeon, but I am grateful that we do not need to approach the old man for permission to talk to the hat.” Crispin leaned forward and placed the Sorting Hat on the coffee table in front of the sofa on which he and Draco sat.

“Hello, good children,” the hat said softly, looking at the pair with amusement. “I was informed by the spirit of Hogwarts that you wish to do a report on the process of sorting you into houses. I am willing to answer whatever questions you may have.”

“Excellent,” the Snape heir purred happily as he dug out a self-inking quill and a pile of parchment from his rucksack. “Who started the process of sorting, and why?”

“Godric Gryffindor had an idea,” the hat said fondly. “He thought that, because the four Founders all had different personalities and goals, the students who attended this fine institution should be separated into different houses to meet their differing needs and requirements. Naturally they would name each house after a Founder. The sorting was intended to place like-minded individuals with similar personalities together so that they could develop a stronger friendship. Since this form of magical education was relatively new and predated modern technologies by centuries, the sortings were more equitable.”

“You’re still sorting into different houses today, despite the changing times and advancing technologies. Why continue it, and are you using the same criteria?” was Crispin’s next question.

“Sorting the children became a tried and true tradition in the school,” the hat responded with a sigh. “Parents who send their children here expect them to be sorted, and many of them are sorted into the houses that their families lived in during their time at Hogwarts. The parameters I used at the beginning and that I use now have not changed much. I still sort based on similar personalities to the founders as well as goals and potential achievements. The magic imbued in me allows for little else.”

“Have you often been confronted with a child that would be comfortable in more than one house?” Draco asked softly.

“As families grew and changed, and as history impacted the world, I’ve had more and more children sit beneath me who could have succeeded in multiple houses. In those instances I was able to allow the child to choose which house they would prefer. Most of the time they chose the house that their parents lived in; it was only very rarely that the child chose an alternative.”

“So is it intellect, personality or a combination of both that has you debating a choice?” Crispin queried.

“It is usually a combination of intellect and personality that make a hard and fast choice more difficult,” the hat answered softly, “especially with those children raised outside the wizarding world. So much of the muggle technologies and experiences colors a student in such a way that nearly any house would suit them. If they know of the houses and what they represent, then they can make an informed choice. So often, however, they have no earthly idea what’s going on, so I put them in the house for which they would show the most aptitude. A student’s success here depends on a great deal, and the small part I play is intended to encourage that success.” The room went quiet as the children contemplated this information, searching their minds for anything else they might wish to know.

“Can the headmaster influence the sorting?” Draco asked suddenly, silver eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“No, he cannot,” the hat said definitively. “The spell that was cast on me is nearly as old as magic. Godric had meditated on it and had received the spell from the goddess herself. It does not recognize any magic outside itself, so it prevents any sort of interference. Not to say that he hasn’t tried, though, but he’s been unsuccessful so far. He did not wish to see his weapon go to any house other than Gryffindor. I am very glad that you completely derailed his plans, and some time down the road you and I need to have a long talk, young man.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” was Crispin’s simple reply.  Fawkes returned to Snape's private quarters and took the hat back to the headmaster's office.  "Now I need to do a bit of research on the magical theory behind the spell and the semi-sentience of the hat.  I need to find out if the spell is unique or if there are others that can mirror its effects.  Hopefully I can find some information on the Founders, and see if they may have contributed a bit of their own magic to the spell to allow the hat to sort students so efficiently."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you, Mr. Snape, for this well written essay,” professor Carrion said the following week. It took everything in Crispin not to curse the bitch, and every time she spoke to him he had to suppress a shudder of revulsion. “For those of you who don’t know,” she told the rest of the class, “Mr. Snape had requested to do an extra credit report on the sorting hat. He handed it in two days ago and I’ve just now finished grading it.” She turned back to her son and smiled fondly. “I’ve taken the liberty of making copies of it and giving them to professor Flitwick, professor Quirrell and professor McGonagall. The information you’ve provided may be explored in those other classes, and maybe it'll encourage budding magical theorists to look beyond the expected.”

Chapter 13

The same eagle owl flew into the Great Hall once again a few weeks later, just before Yule, startling Albus as it landed in front of Severus Snape. Knowing from whom the missive was sent, the Potions Master took it and tucked it away in his robe pocket. He handed the bird a bit of roast beef, saying, “No reply at the moment.” The owl ate its fill before lifting into the air and flying back out of the Great Hall. Crispin’s eyes were narrowed on his father, eyebrow arched in question. With a barely perceptible shake of the professor’s head, his son subsided, satisfied that they would learn soon enough what the Marauders wanted from them. “Wasn’t that Black’s owl?” Draco whispered to his friend softly.

“Yeah,” Crispin replied equally quietly. “Dad will share it with us after dinner.” Albus, meanwhile, was frowning fiercely at his pet Potions Master, eyes telegraphing his need to know what Sirius had to say to someone he’d professed to hate since he was eleven. Severus ignored the headmaster with impunity, well used to being glared at by better men than he. Soon enough dinner was over and everyone rose from the tables in dribs and drabs, whispering conversations amongst the students, discussing the owl, the letter, and most importantly, the headmaster’s reaction. Once Crispin and Draco had made it to his dad’s private rooms, and with master level privacy and locking charms in place, Severus pulled the letter from his pocket and sat between his son and godson, cracking the wax seal on the envelope and pulling the sheet of parchment free.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Drumnadrochit

Inverness IV63 6JS, UK

 

Snape,

Remus had a chat with Albus, and between that and the letter I received back from Crispin, both he and I have a few questions. Something doesn’t feel right here, and we’d like to get to the bottom of the mystery. To that end, we’d like to invite you and yours to Grimmauld Place for Yule. Hopefully you’ll indulge our curiosity about this whole situation and put our minds at ease.

I didn’t like you much growing up; I can only say that my wretched family made me hate anything Dark and I took that hatred out on you. You just looked evil, so I judged you before even attempting to get to know you. I’d like to remedy that now, especially as it seems that our little Prongslet doesn’t actually exist. The fact that Albus wants to spin this into something it’s not has me wary for Crispin’s safety. Even though he’s not really the son of James Potter, those fifteen months we got to share with him were some of the happiest I’d ever had and I’d like to request that Remus and I be allowed to get to know your son, and perhaps find that love again.

I made massive mistakes, both in the way I treated you in school and the way I shirked my responsibilities to Crispin on the say-so of Albus Dumbledore. It may take a lot of time, but I would like to make amends for those mistakes, if you’ll let me. If something’s coming, I’d like to help protect your son from whatever it is. Let me know as soon as possible.

Sirius Black

“Well, that’s interesting,” Crispin murmured softly. “If they were as close to the Potters as they say, maybe they have information that we need to help figure out what the old man has in store for me.”

“I must say, I’m rather astonished that the letter was so civil,” Snape told his son quietly. “Perhaps they’d been played by the headmaster as much as the rest of us have. Black seems to be quite remorseful at his abandonment of you, Crispin, so I daresay that it wasn’t strictly voluntary on his part. So, are you up for possibly including some more members into the ‘get rid of Dumbledore yesterday’ club?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first one through the floo at Grimmauld Place was Lucius Malfoy, followed by his wife and son. Sirius scowled a little at the blond, but Remus was in front of the Malfoy Lord instantly, shaking the man’s hand and thanking him profusely for all the wonderful work he’d done in the Ministry on behalf of magical creatures. “You are quite welcome, Lupin,” the blond drawled with a slight smirk on his face. “ Our side of the political aisle understands that, in order to have the Light, there must be the Dark. We’ve worked tirelessly to legitimize Dark creatures and Dark wizards and witches while at the same time ensuring that the batshite insane ones are locked up or given the Kiss. We’ve always believed that it isn’t the magic that’s evil; it’s the intention of the witch or wizard who uses it. After all, there are a plethora of Light spells that could do grievous bodily harm, and no one has banned them.”

By the time Lucius had finished his little speech, Sirius’ face had smoothed out and he thought about what the other man had said. As he pondered his notions and ideals, Severus, Crispin and Tom had exited the floo and were standing behind Lucius and Narcissa, watching the last Black Lord cautiously. “What was it that changed your mind on blood purity, Malfoy?” Black asked curiously.

“Crispin,” Lucius answered promptly. “He’d made friends with quite a few muggleborns and had learned that the only reason that they don’t really fit in is because they don’t know anything. There aren’t any classes to teach them the value of our traditions and rituals, nor is there instruction on why their Judaeo-Christian teachings do not fit in with the magical world. As well, they come into Hogwarts severely hamstrung, simply because they do not have any early instruction in basic spell casting. We do not contact them until there is a bout of accidental magic that registers with the alert spells we put on the homes of every muggleborn that we can reach. It’s this unexpected exposure to magic that creates a lot of the dire circumstances in which the muggleborns find themselves.

“Because our magic is seen as evil and demonic by the muggles’ religions, the parents of muggleborns do not understand the power their children have, and so punish them for their ‘unnaturalness’. Be it through mistreatment, abuse or exorcisms, the muggleborns’ lives are in imminent peril as soon as the first accidental magic manifests. They do not understand that our magic reacts to our emotions, and the training we do helps us to focus those emotions in more constructive ways. So our efforts have gone toward finding the muggleborns and monitoring their home lives. We’ve put them in primary schools where they get the basic training in their magic as well as our customs and traditions. This way, we can help them navigate the wizarding world better, and at the same time we’ll be able to see which of them are in less than healthy situations so that we may remove them from their abusive homes and place them with wizarding couples willing to foster them.”

Sirius nodded along with Lucius’ explanation, agreeing with everything the blond had said, and didn’t notice the extra adult until the other man was nearly finished speaking. Dark brows snapped down over grey eyes and a sneer of epic proportions twisted Black’s face as he spotted Tom Riddle amongst the guests. “Who’s that?” he barked loudly, gesturing with his wand at the Dark Lord.

“Permit me to introduce myself,” the brunet man said smoothly. “I am Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am a very good friend of Lucius and Severus, and godfather to little Crispin.”

Remus and Sirius looked at each other contemplatively. “Why does that name sound familiar?” the lycan murmured, brow furrowed in concentration.

“You might know him as the Dark Lord Voldemort,” Crispin chimed in helpfully, a mischievous grin on his face.

“H-he Who Must Not Be Named?” Sirius shrieked. “H-here?”

“Indeed,” Severus added his two knuts. “Imagine...the Dark Lord in your home and nary a curse has been fired. Will wonders never cease?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were all sitting around the dinner table enjoying good food and good conversation. Once Sirius and Remus had gotten over their shock at having Voldemort in their home, they relaxed, finally realizing that everything Dumbledore had told them didn’t quite mesh up with the reality of the situation. Political talk had circled the table for several hours as they ate and communed, and both Marauders finally came to an understanding about the way things really were. After dessert, and with glasses of brandy or pumpkin juice, the talk finally turned to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. “So, Mr. Black,” Crispin said into the silence, “care to tell me why the headmaster is so interested in me?”

“I give you permission to call me Sirius, or Padfoot if you prefer,” the Black Lord told everyone before answering the child’s question. “There was a prophecy put into play that stated that you would be the only one to ‘vanquish’ the Dark Lord. Albus was positive it would be you, the son of James and Lily Potter. None of us knew that Lily had fooled around on James, and we were over the moon at the prospect of a little Prongslet.

“Everything seemed fine until Lils came home one day after a well baby appointment. She looked devastated and we all thought there was something seriously wrong with you, pup. When we asked her, she seemed to shake herself out of it, and didn’t say anything about the doctor’s visit or anything else. Then we noticed that she was always being furtive; like she was planning something big. We thought it might have been some sort of surprise for James, but then the attack happened and your parents died.”

“So I’m the supposed prophecy child,” Crispin murmured, eyes narrowed. “Then it stands to reason that Dumbledore wants to control me; to make me his ‘weapon’ to vanquish the big bad. I’m sure that his street cred will go up tremendously when it’s known that he was responsible for the mentoring and training of the prophecy child.” There were mountains of scorn in the brunet’s voice, and everyone flinched at the harsh sound.

“That explains Lily, then,” Severus murmured. "Albus has her teaching in the school, hoping that you'll get close enough to your mother to let her guide you.  Of course, it will all remain hush-hush so that I cannot interfere with his plans for you." Black’s and Lupin’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh yes,” Snape confirmed, “you heard right. Lily didn’t die that night. She arranged for a polyjuiced homeless girl to stand in her place as a sacrificial lamb just to ensure that both James and Crispin died in the confrontation. Lily had come to me shortly before Halloween the year before Crispin’s birth. She was lonely, she said. Unhappy and unfulfilled. We talked for a while and shared some good brandy. I had no intentions of sleeping with her, though she made her desires plain to me. I did not and do not espouse adultery in any form. However, she was my best friend and I was glad to offer her a shoulder upon which to cry.

“She kept plying me with alcohol and I barely remember our coupling,” Severus’ face twisted into a disgusted moue before he continued. “When I awoke the next day, hung over, Lily was gone and I convinced myself that it was just a dream brought on by her nearness. I still loved her, you see, and I thought my mind provided a rather intense false memory for me to cherish. After the attack, and with Crispin in the muggle world somewhere, I didn’t give that night a second thought. It didn’t occur to me that our assignation was real, so I never even considered that her child could be mine.

“Arabella Figg, who had been placed in the Dursleys’ neighborhood to keep an eye on Crispin, sent me the letter Lily had left with her, telling me that the boy was mine. It was a nasty little missive, accusing me of impregnating her when I ‘raped her in front of the Dark Lord’. That, of course, never happened, but the memory of that night came flooding back, and I realized that she had abandoned my son to die. I went immediately to retrieve him and get an accounting of his inheritances. James had named him the Potter heir, and the magic recognized him as such, so the vaults belong to Crispin. In one of them Lucius found a locked and magically sealed diary in which Lily had written her plan for the murder of James Potter and Crispin Snape. It was planned so that she could be free of an unwanted marriage and child. She never cared for either James or my son, and now she’s teaching in Hogwarts.”

Chapter 14

“It’s all there,” Remus said softly as he stared at the diary as if it would jump up and bite him. “She never loved James at all.”

“Why did she marry him, then?” Sirius barked angrily. “She could have run off with Severus at any time. She didn’t need to drag our best mate into this nightmare.”

“None of us knew the prophecy,” the werewolf said reasonably. “It was given to Albus nearly a year before Crispin was born. We didn’t find out that it existed until after the baby had arrived. None of us could have predicted what happened afterward. I can’t really blame her for staying with James; after all, Severus was tied to Voldemort at that time.”

“That’s true,” Sirius grudgingly admitted. “She didn’t need to plan his murder, though. Nor did she need to pull an innocent girl into the nightmare. We told her our secrets. Merlin, if she decides to use them against us, we’ll be toast.”

“She doesn’t love him,” the lycan said softly, still staring at the diary. When the animagus quirked a questioning eyebrow, Remus continued. “Crispin. She doesn’t love him. For her, he’s just bait to trap Severus. That’s all.”

“Which means you’ll need to be on your guard whilst in the school, Moony,” Padfoot replied with a frown. “We can’t let her get close enough to our honorary Prongslet to hurt him.”

“So you’re willing to include Severus’ son in our little family?” the werewolf queried with a small smile.

“I am,” Black said with a firm nod. “I remember cuddling him when he was a baby. I remember his smell and I remember the overwhelming love I felt for him. That child still smells the same; he’s still my little Prongslet...my pup.”

“I know,” the lycanthrope agreed softly. “He smells so much like pack that it has the wolf within purring contentedly. He’s my cub, and I’ll not let anything hurt him.”

“Albus is going to be a problem, too,” Sirius said after a few moments’ thought. “He knows who she is and has helped her hide in plain sight. I’m not quite sure what his agenda is, but if it’s to use Crispin to ‘vanquish’ the Dark Lord, that ship has sailed far into the horizon. How were we so wrong about Tom?”

“That’s all down to Dumbledore,” Remus told his friend with a grimace. “After all, at the time that Voldemort was supposedly ‘vanquished’, Albus spread it around that who we thought was Harry had destroyed his body. Obviously that hasn’t happened if Tom has been with Crispin since he was six. Everything the wizarding world knew about the Dark Lord was created by Dumbledore and a few select sycophants. Come to think of it, we don’t even know who gave the prophecy.”

“If there is a prophecy,” Sirius growled. “Let’s write to Severus and see if he knows anything about this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Drumnadrochit

Inverness IV63 6JS, UK

 

Severus,

Thank you once again for the twenty year old Ogden’s Finest Firewhiskey. It goes down smooth and hot, and is a great way to end a rough day. Now, we have a few questions, and they all relate to Albus in some way. Was there a real prophecy? Do you know who gave it? What it said? We’re asking because Tom wasn’t ‘vanquished’ when he went to kill James and Crispin. He’d somehow managed to avoid the backlash from the magic Evans used on the homeless girl when she was murdered. If Crispin wasn’t the ‘Savior’, then who was? I know Neville was born the day before, but he’d never had any sort of dealings with Voldemort, nor did his parents die that night. We want to know how deeply down the rabbit hole this all goes.

Welcome to the family!

Sirius

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black Townhouse

Number 12 Grimmauld Place

Claremont Square, Islington

London N1 9LX, UK

 

Sirius,

Thank you for the warm welcome, and I must also express my gratitude for the rare potions tome that you’d generously given me from the Black family library. This particular potions journal had been thought to be lost to the ages after Merlin Ambrosius was killed. That you would gift me with such a rare find...

Anyway, yes there was a prophecy. Tom had already heard it before he went to the cottage. He’s quite remorseful for killing your best friend; he can only say that he was tricked into his actions by the foretelling. It was given by Sybill Trelawney to Albus Dumbledore during a job interview at the Hog’s Head tavern in Hogsmeade. It was fake. How the headmaster managed to put a false prophecy orb in the Department of Mysteries is, itself, a mystery. I’m not quite sure what the old man’s up to, but I can definitely say that it somehow involves my son. Tom has a mission, set down by Magick herself, to balance out the power in our world. Right now the Light has too much power and it’s causing an imbalance in the natural order. Tom’s purpose is to bring the Dark out of the shadows so that a more even balance is maintained. Too much one way or the other will create major disruptions in the flow of both natural and wizarding magic.

I am not trying to make excuses for Tom; he was rather focused on what he needed to do in order to even things out and your friend got in the way. I...was sorry to hear about James’ death. Though he and I didn’t really like each other, we both had our love for Lily in common. It’s a tragedy that both yours and my memories of her have been permanently soiled because of her selfish behavior. The only good thing to come out of knowing her is my son, and I’ll not let anything harm him.

As to what the prophecy said, here it is verbatim: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live while the other survives...The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...*

Our family will face whatever the other side throws at us in the fight that is coming, and it won’t be from the practitioners of the Dark that the first blow will occur. Stand strong and protect yourselves. We are only a floo call away.

Semper Fidelis

Severus Snape

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So how was everyone’s holidays?” Crispin asked as he sat at the Slytherin table. The table filled with chatter as everyone shared their family traditions and what they’d received for Yule.

“Thank you so much for the beautiful jewelry, Crispin,” several of the girls chimed in unison. “How did you know what we would like?” Pansy asked for the group.

“I asked Dad when your birthdays were, and I observed what you all favored,” the preteen replied with a shy smile. “It wasn’t hard to find quite a few lovely pieces of heirloom jewelry that matched your tastes in James’ vault.”

“Y...you gave us your mother’s jewelry?” Daphne asked incredulously.

“No,” the brunet answered, scowling. “I had the goblins put everything that James had bought that bitch in her vault. The pieces I chose were from James’ ancestors. I knew I wouldn’t get any use out of them, and they were too beautiful and too special to be hidden away. Who better to show off such priceless heirlooms than my friends and housemates?”

“So am I to assume that the presents we received came from the same source?” Blaise asked archly.

“Well, yeah,” the raven haired youth said with a shrug. “I don’t intend to have any Potter children to pass these things to, and I knew that you all would be able to appreciate the history behind the presents. If you don’t like them, you can always give them back and I’ll find something else to give you.”

“We love them,” Theo hastily said, nudging Blaise none too gently in the ribs and eliciting a yelp from the dark skinned boy. “I know that I’m honored that you took the time to get to know me well enough to center the gift around my particular tastes. It’s just a little surprising that you would give up a legacy that you’d inherited, no matter from where it came.”

“That’s just it, Theo,” Crispin said heatedly. “It’s not my birthright. It is the endowment from a man that bullied my father. Why would I keep anything that could remind him of that pain?”

“Fair enough,” Greg said. Many Slytherins down the table nodded their agreement. “What about the money?”

“I gave all that to Father as soon as I could,” the Prince heir replied with a grin. “There were also a few properties within that legacy, and we explored all of them when I was ten. Most of them were sold, but we hung on to a couple of them. One was a fully decked out potions lab and lodgings in the deepest part of Sherwood Forest. It has all the requisite repelling and protective wards, which stretch out four acres beyond the lab in all directions. James’ father Fleamont Potter was a potioneer of some renown and he created the perfect ingredient farm that surrounds the lab.”

“I’ll bet your dad was quite chuffed to receive that,” Vince said with a wide grin.

“He was,” the raven haired boy agreed. “The other property is located on Lazzaretto Nuovo, an island located in the lagoon that surrounds Italy. The island is uninhabited, but they have a cultural museum which has guided tours. The house is, of course, behind a great many wards and is situated within a wooded area. Draco and I thought to make it our own personal getaway, when we want to do things that the adults don’t need to know about. A party house, if you will.”

“I’m in,” said a voice from behind the brunet. The Prince heir smirked, turning to look up at the twin terrors standing behind him. Draco had jumped and yelped loudly, flushing in embarrassed anger at being caught unawares.

“Me, too,” said the other twin. “Sounds like it’ll be a blast.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Snape,” said a voice from behind Crispin, “I’m glad you could meet with me.” The preteen turned, scowl firmly on his face as he saw the woman who had sent him the message. The boy thought it was from one of his friends, asking for some help with defense. So he arrived at the abandoned classroom to wait for whomever it was who summoned him. He never expected that it would be his bitch mother behind the request, and he glared emerald fire at the woman.

Severus was in the middle of his potions class; they were brewing the Draught of the Living Death, and he was circulating amongst the desks, checking their progress. He was just about to tell sixth year Gryffindor prefect Gil Egan that he was doing a very good job when the alerts surrounding the heir ring that Crispin wore went off in his head. “Mr. Egan, as you are at the stage where it is safe to place your potion in stasis, I ask that you take over the class for the moment. Something urgent has come up and I must leave immediately.” Not waiting for an answer, Snape bolted out the door, following the thrum of protective magic to the classroom in which Lily had his son cornered.

“Please,” he heard her say as he came up behind her, “you must listen to me. I am your mo…”

“Stupefy,” the Potions Master hissed, watching in satisfaction as she went down, cracking her skull open on a dusty desk in the process. “Are you all right?” he asked as he approached his child. The boy launched himself into his father’s arms, shuddering violently at the very close call he’d just experienced.

“I am now,” he mumbled into his dad’s chest, relaxing by degrees as the older man carded his fingers through his boy’s inky locks soothingly. “We need to figure out a better way to make her stay away from me.”

Notes:

*From Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix , written by J. K. Rowling; published 21 June, 2003, by Bloomsbury in the UK, Scholastic in the US, and Raincoast in Canada.

Chapter 15

“Uunhh,” the woman moaned as she slowly regained consciousness. Blinking bleary eyes, she looked around at the white walls and starched ivory curtains that separated her bed from the rest of the infirmary. The antiseptic smell reminded her of those times when she was sick at home, and she rolled her eyes, wincing at the sudden spike of pain that the gesture engendered in her brain. She moaned again, her palm pressing against her forehead, and jumped in fright when madam Pomfrey approached her.

“I see you’re finally awake,” the mediwitch said rather acerbically. The older woman pulled her wand and started casting diagnostic spells whilst she continued to speak. “You came in with a rather nasty gash to the side of your head, as well as a mild concussion. It was very fortunate that Severus had happened upon you in that abandoned classroom. Had you not been found in time, there may have been permanent brain damage from the knock you took to the head.”

“Ah, Miss Carrion,” Albus’ voice boomed jovially as he entered the infirmary, causing the other three patients in the hospital to squeak in fear as they flinched at the sudden sound of the headmaster’s words. Poppy hissed at the old man in vexation for disturbing her patients as she went to her potions cupboard to fetch a pain draught. “I am glad to see that you are awake and well. Can you tell me what happened?”

“I...I was meeting with a student to discuss a rather urgent matter and...I don’t know. I just passed out, I guess,” Lily replied, emerald eyes reflecting her confusion at how she had ended up in the hospital.

“You could not meet this student in your office?” Dumbledore asked rather archly. “I am sure that it would have provided a bit more privacy than an empty classroom.” Blue eyes narrowed on the woman, the headmaster’s expression showing that he knew exactly what she had been doing.

“I...I...” she stammered, unable to come up with a suitable enough lie to cover the fact that she had been disobeying the ground rules that Dumbledore had set out for her before she took the job as History of Magic professor.

“I have warned you about approaching either Harry or Severus,” the old man hissed threateningly. “If I hear of you being where you shouldn’t be, or doing what you shouldn’t be doing, I will have no choice but to inform the Ministry that you are alive and that you present a danger to one of my students. They would not hesitate to arrest you for your involvement in the murders of James Potter and a homeless girl. You are here under my good grace; step one more toe out of line and you will wish you had died with James.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Blast and damn,” Lily mumbled as she sat hunched over on the sofa in her private quarters. “Every time I try to tell Crispin who I am, someone or something interferes. I must speak with him. I need to convince him to allow me to be his mother again so that I can have Severus all to myself. As soon as I can gain the boy’s trust, I can work to get rid of him and make the way clear for Severus and I to have a life together, free from unwanted burdens or influence.” She continued to ruminate on her plans to pull Snape to her without the cumbersome burden of the child to whom she’d given birth. She believed that if she just proved to the Potions Master how much she truly loved him, he would gladly abandon the boy and they could finally have the happily-ever-after she’d dreamt of since she was a child.

In another part of the castle, Crispin shuddered dramatically, feeling as if a goose had walked over his grave. Draco noticed the full-body shiver and his eyebrows snapped down in a frown. “Are you all right, Crispin?” the blond asked softly so as not to call attention to their group.

“I don’t know,” the raven haired child said, quivering a little harder. “I just got an overwhelming feeling of dread, like someone’s plotting my death.”

“Since it looks like Potter isn’t going to leave you alone, I think your instincts are trying to tell you of the danger she represents,” Theo said from the brunet’s other side. They were in the Slytherin common room, trying to get their homework done. “We need to utilize that map that the twins have to try and keep you safe.”

“I’ll write Sirius and Remus and see if they’d be willing to see us this weekend,” Crispin said after a few moments’ thought. “Since the twins are fanboys of the Marauders, I think they’d appreciate being introduced to the last surviving members. Maybe, between the four of them, they could come up with a way to replicate the map and put some sort of alert on it so that I can always know where that bitch is at.”

“Why don’t you just take it back?” Blaise asked reasonably. “After all, it is yours by rights as the heir of the Potter legacy.”

“Like I told the twins, it doesn’t really belong to me,” the Snape heir replied softly. “Since there are no real Potters left, the map should be with those who found it. The twins are far more Slytherin than most of the students in your house, which means that they’d make better use of the Marauder’s map than practically anyone else in the castle. Besides, I’d hate to take away the physical proof of their idols, especially since they plan on using the map to spy on Potter for us.”

“Fair enough,” Pansy said with a small smile. “Who would have ever thought that we’d voluntarily consort with Weasleys of all people.”

“We’ve got the best ones, though,” Greg said with a grin. “Snakes in the lion’s den, ready to strike and poison as many people as possible against Dumbledore. The Weasleys are very well respected in our neck of the wizarding world; at least, by the Light minded fools, and it will take no small amount of time and patience to turn much of the populace away from the ‘greatest wizard alive’; at least, that’s what the old man’s press releases say.

“Many witches and wizards are weak willed and easily led. It’s how Dumbledore became such a greatly revered figurehead in the first place. As long as he continues to rabbit on about evil and the Greater Good, they’ll follow him like lambs to the slaughter. It’s gonna take some effort, but with the right words in the right ears, we can change the tide of support from the headmaster to the Dark Lord. Once that happens, the war will be over before it’s really begun.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Fred? George?” Crispin said that Friday as he caught up with them on the way to the Great Hall for lunch. He had spied them as they left charms and the raven haired preteen had wanted to make arrangements for the weekend.

“Yeah, Crispin?” Fred replied with a smile.

“We’re going to Grimmauld Place this weekend, and we wanted to know if you wanted to join us?” the Snape heir asked softly.

“Why?” George queried curiously.

“Well,” the brunet replied mysteriously, “there’s someone to whom I’d like to introduce you, and there are also some things I’d like to give the two of you.”

“Presents?” George chirped excitedly.

“You could say that,” the boy answered with a grin. “Just know that it’s something that you could use down the road, and leave it at that for now.”

“When are we leaving?” Fred questioned with a gentle smile.

“After our last classes for the day,” the preteen said. “It’ll be myself, Draco, my dad and my godfather, as well as uncle Lucius. We’ve got some things to talk over with the people we’re meeting, and I thought you might enjoy the little field trip.”

“We’re meeting in your dad’s personal rooms?” George clarified, dancing in place with anticipation and curiosity.

“Of course,” Crispin told the twins with a grin. “Dad’s floo is connected to Grimmauld Place, and it’s warded so that the headmaster doesn’t know we’re leaving. The old man won’t know anything of what we do until it’s far too late.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome to Grimmauld Place,” a pale man with black, shoulder length hair and soft grey eyes said, his arms wide. “My name is Sirius Black, and this distinguished gentleman,” he indicated the slightly shorter man to his left, “is Remus Lupin.”

“This is Fred and George Weasley, Padfoot,” Crispin said with a mischievous smile. “I asked them to come along because I thought they would enjoy meeting you and Moony.” At the mention of the name ‘Padfoot’, both ginger-haired heads whipped around, staring at the preteen with shock. When their short friend mentioned ‘Moony’, they turned their gazes slowly back onto the others and stared at the two men across the floor from them, their blue eyes filled with worshipful awe.

“P-Padfoot? M-Moony?” Fred whispered reverently.

“Th-the Marauders?” George squeaked breathlessly.

“In the flesh, so to speak,” Sirius replied with a wide, childlike grin of excitement. “How do you know those names?”

“W-we have your map,” Fred answered as he pulled the battered piece of parchment from a robe pocket. He quickly activated it and handed it over to Remus with admiration in his eyes. The werewolf took the parchment with great ceremony and stared at it with fondness.

“How did you find this?” the lycan inquired, eyes never leaving the only tangible piece of the Marauders’ legacy left.

“We had detention with Filch in our first year,” George said with a self-deprecating smile. “We saw a corner of it sticking up out of a filing cabinet drawer labeled ‘dangerous magical artifacts’. Being far too curious for our own good, we nicked it and took it back to our dorm room. It took us quite a while to figure out how to activate it, and the map helped with clues and hints when we got close. When we finally lucked out on the proper phrase to open it up, we were amazed. There, in our sweaty little hands, was a way for us to sneak around the castle and not get caught.”

“We spied on a few clandestine meetings and committed some rather skillful pranks,” Fred continued, “but when Crispin came to school and we noticed a name on the map that didn’t belong there, we decided to talk to him about it. We tried to give it to him, but he refused it, saying that it didn’t really belong to him.”

“Why do you think that, pup?” Sirius asked curiously, a fond smile on his face for the next generation of Marauders standing before him.

“I’m not really a Potter, am I?” the child replied with a diffident shrug. “I only have access to the Potter vaults because James made me his heir. My ‘inheritance’ went to Father in recompense for the bullying that he’d had to endure at the hands of you lot. I couldn’t release him from the life debt as heir, so Father and I did some research and found a way to terminate the debt using James’ magical signature in a ritual. As for the map, the twins found it fair and square and it belongs to them. I have no use for it, and I don’t think it could be in better hands. Do you?”

“Good points, all of them,” Remus told the child with a proud smile. “Now, when Crispin went to Gringotts to get an accounting of the inheritances, as well as to decide what to do with them, he brought back some special journals that he’d like to gift to the twins.” Sirius pulled out a bundle of small books, all bound together, and handed them to Fred. “Those are the notebooks in which we wrote all of our pranks, both the successful ones and the ones we needed to tweak or finish,” the lycan continued with a grin. “Crispin told us that you want to open your own joke shop, and Sirius and I would like to be silent partners and consultants in this venture, if you’re willing.”

“R-really?” George squeaked, swaying on his feet for a moment in a near swoon.

“Yes, really,” Sirius replied with a bark of laughter. “Crispin gave a good bunch of galleons to Remus from what James had left, and he’s willing to turn that gold into even more gold, if what he and I have heard about your efforts so far is true.”

“We would be honored to include you in our plans for our shop,” Fred breathed, blue eyes wide and excited. “With the Marauders backing us, the sky’s the limit!”

"Now that you've finished drooling over the mutt and his wolf, could you please move out of the way so that the rest of us can come in?" came a snarky, sarcastic voice from behind the trio, startling an embarrassed blush from the two teens and preteen as they smiled sheepishly and stepped aside, allowing Severus, Lucius, Draco and Tom to step away from the fireplace and dust themselves off.

"Finally," Draco huffed, rubbing at his backside gingerly.  "That fire was getting rather toasty."

Chapter 16

“We’ve actually come to see if you could duplicate the map,” Crispin said once everyone had found a seat. The twins were bracketing Sirius and Remus on the sofa, bouncing in place in excitement at meeting their idols. The rest of the visitors had found their own seats, Severus smirking at the two men and their predicament.

“Why do you want to duplicate it?” Remus asked softly, flinching slightly as Fred’s arm wound around the lycan’s shoulders. The elder twin frowned at Moony’s reaction, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“We would like to provide Crispin with better protection in the school,” Tom said, also watching Remus’ reactions to close contact. “If we can provide copies of the map to his friends and some of the other teachers, we’ll have a better way to track Potter in the school and be able to find Crispin before the bitch gets to him.”

“To what other teachers would you provide the map?” Sirius asked, grinning at George happily. “Since Albus has provided that woman with a disguise, and most of the professors answer to him as headmaster, it would be difficult to find instructors that would be willing to go against him.”

“I think Flitwick would be willing to watch out for Crispin,” Severus said thoughtfully. “He was particularly shaken when Lily ‘died’, so he might be amenable to being included in our little circle. After all, he had sung her praises when it came to his class; to find out that he’d been fooled by her like the rest of us would definitely be a bitter pill to swallow.”

“McGonagall would probably side with us,” Remus continued quietly. He’d adjusted to the affection that Fred was showing him and was able to control his flinches when someone touched him. The twins’ eyes met over the lycan’s head, the silent conversation confirming their protection of the Alpha werewolf, as well as encouraging him to accept his status. “She was ecstatic when James showed as much skill in transfiguration that he had. She took his loss very hard, and mourned his death for a lot of years. I still don’t think she’s quite over it, and when she finds out that Lily Potter was responsible for his death...”

“If we get other teachers involved, we’ll have to caution them not to let on that they’re aware of her presence in the school,” Tom interjected. “We want to be able to gather as much evidence against both her and the headmaster as possible. If the other teachers talk about Lily Potter out in the open, that could tip others off that something odd is going on.”

“About that,” Draco chimed in, brow furrowed. “How are we going to convince the teachers that Dumbledore has something up his sleeve concerning Crispin? I mean, ninety percent of the British wizarding world hangs on the old man’s every word, almost as if he’s Merlin reincarnated. How are we going to convince anyone that the headmaster isn’t the shining beacon of the Light that he portrays?”

“That’s a good question, Draco,” Tom murmured with a nod to the blond. “I know that Dumbledore still has that vigilante group assembled and waiting in the wings for him to call them to duty, and I’m pretty sure McGonagall is part of it. At least I remember seeing her during the first wizarding war. She even turned a blind eye to Crispin’s abandonment in the muggle world. Perhaps she shouldn’t be trusted with such a monumental task as watching Lily Potter in the school.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Sirius mumbled, shame-faced. “I completely forgot about the Order of the Phoenix and her involvement with it. I remember her deferring to Albus in all things when I was in school. I can’t imagine that she’s changed overly much since then.”

“Minerva’s head is deeply buried in the old man’s arse,” Severus said with a scowl. “She looked the other way when it came to the tormenting of Slytherins whilst I was in school. I can’t imagine that she’ll see anything wrong with what Dumbledore is doing now.”

“So, Flitwick, then?” Crispin asked as he looked at the others in the room.

“We might be able to pull Irma Pince into this,” Severus said thoughtfully. “She’s gone to the old man many times over the years to rail about the lack of suitable texts for the students to use. Every time Albus removed library books because of their content, she nearly had a heart attack. She has no love for the old man.”

“Sprout seems like a no-nonsense teacher,” Draco said after a few moments. “She seems like she would listen to all sides of an argument and make a logical assumption based on the information provided. She might be worth approaching.”

“Okay,” Lupin said with a smile. “We have Severus, Filius Flitwick, Irma Pince and Pomona Sprout looking out for our cub. What about some of the students?”

“Well,” George said from beside Sirius, “we’ll be keeping an eye on things.”

“We’ve got a lot of friends in Slytherin,” Crispin added with a smile. “I think Blaise, Theo and Vince should have one, too.”

“There’s also Ernie, Kevin, Terry and Seamus, as well,” Draco contributed with a grin. “We have enough friends in all of the houses that we’ll be able to ensure that Potter won’t be able to corner Crispin again.”

“Remus will also have one when he starts teaching next term,” Sirius chimed in happily. “With all of those eyes on the bitch, our honorary Prongslet should be safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I need to work on ways to keep Remus and Sirius under my control,” Albus murmured softly. He was unaware, as usual, of the headmaster and headmistress portraits that lined the wall behind him. The one he should have been more careful around was Phineas Nigellus Black, who was the great-great grandfather to Sirius. The man in the painting watched the old man with narrowed eyes, listening carefully to every word so that he could tell his heir when he entered the identical portrait at Grimmauld Place. Though Black and Lupin had completely gutted and remodeled the townhouse, they kept some of the canvases and portraiture, and Phineas had a place of honor above the fireplace in the salon. Sirius wasn’t happy about the man’s politics, but he understood that his grandfather had as little choice in how he was raised as Sirius did.

“I’ll have a talk with both young men in a few weeks. I’ll carefully and quietly remind Sirius that he’s an illegally unregistered animagus, and Remus will be reminded that he’s an illegally unregistered werewolf. I will also remind them of the tasks I had them perform whilst they were in the Order. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were the first of several assassinations that were pinned on the Death Eaters at that time. The Prewett twins had an unfortunate addiction to some experimental potions and they were becoming a liability to me. They needed to be removed, and Sirius and Remus completed the task admirably. They were also responsible for the deaths of Caradoc Dearborn and Dorcas Meadowes. Caradoc was a child abuser and Meadowes was a serial killer. They were close to being discovered by the DMLE and their actions would have ruined the reputation of the Order of the Phoenix.

“I never paid much attention to what my members did; after all, as long as they kept it in the family, it was none of my concern. However, Dearborn’s actions had become a bit more public, and since he was dangerously close to tarnishing my reputation, he had to go. Dorcas was a huge surprise. I didn’t think she had that sort of sickness in her. She only went after pureblood society women; I am unsure as to why, though. It’s not like she was left penniless. Black and Lupin did their jobs well, making the murders look like they were done by Tom’s followers. I’ll need to remind them of their sins, though, so that they’ll understand that I hold their leashes. Can’t have them going off and jeopardizing my plans, now can I?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why do you think Remus is so jumpy when someone touches him?” Fred asked softly. George's eyes narrowed on his brother; he had wondered about that as well. They were in Severus’ private quarters with the Potions Master, as well as Crispin, Draco, Lucius and Tom.

“Unfortunately, when we were in school, Mulciber tried to sexually assault Lupin,” the elder blond replied quietly. “Remus was twelve and Mulciber was sixteen. The older Slytherin cornered the younger Gryffindor near the dungeons and had pressed the twelve year old against the back wall of an alcove. I was passing on my way to the Slytherin common room when I heard someone whimpering in fear. The hissed whispers were too faint for me to understand, but I suddenly had the urge to find out what was going on.

“I entered the alcove and saw Mulciber leaning against Lupin, and the sixth year had his hand down the front of the second year’s pants. Remus looked petrified and he didn’t fight back. He looked as if he was resigned to being treated so shabbily, and I saw red. I cast a stupefy at the idiot Slytherin and helped Remus straighten out his clothes. When I asked him why he didn’t fight back, he told me that because of some personal problems he didn’t expect anything but abuse, since that’s what he got from his parents before they abandoned him. I told the Gryffindor that if he ever needed anything, to come to me and I would help him as much as I could.”

“So you saved Lupin from an attempted rape?” Crispin asked for verification. When Lucius nodded, the raven haired child launched himself from the couch and tackled the blond to the floor, hugging him tightly. “Why weren’t you friends, and did you ever find out he was a werewolf?” the emerald eyed child asked as soon as he helped his honorary uncle off the floor.

“At that time, Slytherin house had a rather nasty reputation,” the elder Malfoy replied as he carded his fingers through the boy’s hair. “There was a bitter rivalry between our house and Gryffindor, spurred on by your father and Sirius and exacerbated by Dumbledore’s failure to rein in the Marauders. It wasn’t safe for Slytherins and Gryffindors to be friends. I kept an eye on Lupin as much as I could, and stepped in when necessary, but we kept our distance otherwise.

"As for his lycanthropy, I didn't find out until after I'd graduated.  Severus was in his fifth year, and he came to the manor pale and shaking. It took some time, but I finally got the story out of him.  I will tell you right now, Crispin, I came within a hair's breadth of murdering Sirius Black. To think that he'd use his best friend as a murder weapon boggled my mind. Severus asked me not to say anything to anyone. Potter was powerful, and Sev feared that if anything were to happen to Lupin, he'd be the one blamed."

“What happened to Mulciber, Father?” Draco asked, a knowing glint in his eye.

“Lupin wasn’t the first child to be attacked by that diseased bastard. He’d been working his way through the first and second years since the beginning of term. When I found out about his ‘extracurricular activities’, I cast the darkest impotence curse I could, followed up by a severing charm that is used to perform magical vasectomies. I made quite sure that, not only wouldn’t that piece of shite be able to ever get it up, but if by chance the vasectomy was reversed, he wouldn’t be able to procreate. It’s my opinion that those particular purebloods need to become extinct.”

“Did you tell Remus that?” George asked, a malevolent grin on his face.

“I may have intimated that he needn’t worry about that particular child molester again,” the elder blond said with a vicious smile. “Things in the Dark Lord’s forces were a little difficult because of St. Dumbledore, but I wasn’t about to let someone like that damage all the good work we were doing.”

“So are you picking up where you left off, Tom?” George asked with a grin. “Wiping out muggles and muggleborns?”

“You know very well that my goals were nothing of the sort,” Riddle scoffed, nose in the air. He grinned a few moments later and launched into his plans. “Lucius began everything with the magical primary schools and the people willing to foster abused muggleborns and halfbloods raised outside our borders. Between he and I, we were able to repeal most of those restrictive magical being laws, and we’ve also put into place measures by which the house elves can be protected from their ‘masters’. We will have a committee go door to door and inspect each house elf; they’ll be checking for signs of abuse and neglect. They’ll also check out the living spaces that the elves are given, as well as the types of work they’re required to do. If we find any that have been abused, neglected, or overused, we’ll remove them and prohibit the ‘owners’ from obtaining any more elves.

“Our neck of the wizarding world needs to wake up and realize that the way we treat sentient beings who can think, feel, and love is atrocious. We have no idea how many different species of magical beings are in the world, and if we’re not careful, they could rise up and wipe us out without a second thought. Why, the goblins alone have populations ten times what the entirety of the wizarding world has. If they all band together, we don’t stand a chance. It’s better to welcome them into our world and provide safe, secure living spaces, than to ignore the danger they represent.”

Chapter 17

Notes:

Misty123 pointed out a glaring error that I've fixed, and also gave me the inspiration for the post that Sirius will fill. Thanks!

“Hey, Remus?” Crispin asked softly. They were at Grimmauld for the weekend, touching base on a few minor things. It was mid-March, and the howling winds were buffeting the protected manor rather viciously. Sirius had decided to place his family home under a fidelius, with Tom Riddle as secret-keeper. To say that the Dark Lord was honored was an understatement. Ever since Yule things had changed even more for the driven man, and he was proud to include even more stalwart supporters into his ever-growing family. Misunderstandings between Sirius, Narcissa and Bellatrix had been ironed out, and they celebrated coming together once again as a family every chance they could. The current Black Lord even welcomed Andromeda back into the clan, and the reunion between the three sisters was quite emotional, making all the men present a bit uncomfortable at the display.

“Yeah, cub?” the lycan asked, amber eyes gleaming with a quiet happiness. Reuniting with, and getting to know one of his long-lost pack mates had soothed the wolf within as nothing else could. When Crispin was born, Lupin’s animalistic side had instantly seen the baby as the most important member of his pack and a future Alpha to the werewolf nation. It was Remus’ intention to teach and train the Prince heir in all things wolf so that he would be ready to take the reins for Fenrir. That reunion would be a story for another time.

“Lucius told us what happened to you in school when you were twelve,” the child said, concern in his emerald eyes. “We all understand that, between your lycanthropy and the attempted sexual assault, you would be skittish. I think you need to talk to someone about that time in your life so that you can move past it and become a stronger role model for us.”

Remus flinched a little when that ugly time was broached, then sighed heavily, amber eyes dimming at the memory. “I know, cub,” he replied, looking at his hands and hunching over defensively. He twitched when he felt an arm slide across his shoulders, then trembled when the child snuggled into his side. Reflexively, his own arm wound around the boy’s waist and pulled him in tighter, the smell of his heir soothing his frazzled nerves. He sniffled a little, fighting against the tide of anguish that he felt swamping him; he’d never given in to the terror of the day that Mulciber had attempted to rape him, tamping those emotions down until they were nearly buried. His arm tugged the boy onto his lap, where he wrapped himself around his cub and finally released all of the pent up rage and heartbreak he had ignored for all those years.

Crispin cuddled impossibly close into Remus’ arms, pulling the older man’s head down on his shoulder whilst he carded his fingers tenderly through the greying locks of hair next to his cheek. “It’s all right, Remus,” he murmured softly, eyes closed as he shared the misery with the lycan. “We’re here and we’ll never let you be alone again.” In the doorway of the living room, Sirius and Severus stood, eyes shimmering with unshed tears and gratitude in their hearts as the child helped the older man let go of all the pain that he’d kept locked away. Turning to the Potions Master, the animagus gave the other man a wobbly smile.

“I could never get him to talk about that day,” he said quietly. “He bottled it up so tightly that not even the strongest unlocking spell could get him to let go of it. That experience colored our interactions every single day, and I walked on eggshells just to keep from sparking those horrific memories. In spite of his mother’s narcissistic selfishness, your son has grown to be a fine young man. There must be something unique about Crispin that has the werewolf within Remus responding so easily to the child.”

“We will talk to the both of them about it later,” Severus replied, nodding toward the pair on the couch. “Right now we need to allow them peace and privacy so that Lupin can deal with those memories and finally put them behind him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Grandson, I have to talk to you,” Phineas said a few days later. Once Lupin had unburdened himself of those memories and the shame and self-disgust they had engendered, he became a new man. He walked with a spring in his step and his golden eyes glowed with an inner power and peace. Crispin had talked the lycan into seeking the assistance of a qualified Mind Healer who would overlook his lycanthropy and be willing to treat him for the PTSD. Tom went one better and contacted a good friend of his who had experience with this particular topic. The therapy sessions had worked like magic, and Lupin was looking younger and healthier than ever before. The mated pair’s sex life had improved by leaps and bounds, and it was almost as if the animagus and the werewolf were pups again.

“What’s up, Gramps,” Black said with a cocky grin. Scowling at the appellation, the elder Black nevertheless continued.

“Albus Dumbledore has some rather hostile plans for you and your mate,” he said sternly. “He intends to use Remus’ lycanthropy against him as blackmail to keep him in line with the old man’s plans.”

“How does he intend to do that?” Sirius queried with a frown.

“By using the fact that Lupin is an unregistered werewolf and has therefore violated the law,” Phineas answered with a scowl. “He intends to threaten your mate that if he doesn’t cooperate with the headmaster’s designs on young Crispin, he’ll turn Remus in as an unregistered werewolf and Dark creature, and insist that he be executed.”

“That’s really not going to work,” the animagus said with a laugh. At his great grandfather’s incredulous look, the Black Lord continued. “Lucius Malfoy has abolished all of those restrictive laws against Dark creatures. He’s made it so that Remy can hold a job and walk freely down the sidewalk without being attacked. He’s created blood banks and voluntary donor registries for vampires. He’s made it so that any magical being, creature or human, is welcome in the British wizarding world.”

“I...I did not know that,” the painting said slowly. “How did I not know that?”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in the frame in the headmaster’s office,” Sirius told his great grandsire softly. “You're instrumental in getting Albus’ plans and schemes so that we can work to counter them. My pack and I are very grateful for all the work you’re doing to protect us, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m proud of you, grandfather.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, child,” said a voice from behind Crispin. The boy was in an abandoned classroom working on some spells with which he'd been having difficulty. Badly startled, he spun with his wand out and a devastating curse on his lips. His brows furrowed when all he saw was a battered felt hat perched on a dusty desk, and then his eyes widened in recognition. So engrossed in his spell work was he that he never even noticed Fawkes flaming in with the Sorting Hat.

“You do realize that I could have vaporized you,” the preteen grumbled as he fought to get his rampaging heartbeat back under control.

“I do,” the Sorting Hat said with a chuckle. “I am here to have that much-needed conversation with you, if I may.”

“Can I have my dad and Draco here?” the child asked quietly.

“Of course,” the hat said, then closed its eyes for a few moments. “Fawkes is on his way to bring them here. We can wait for their arrival.” The first flash of the phoenix dropped Severus off, and then moments later the blond was in the room. Fawkes perched himself on the back of a chair, waiting for business to be concluded so that he could return the headpiece to the headmaster’s office before Dumbledore returned from the Ministry.

“What is the meaning of this?” Snape barked loudly, startling the phoenix for a moment. The firebird fluttered his wings in agitation and chirped angrily at the potions professor, who ignored the creature with impunity.

“I am here to continue my conversation with your son, and he requested that you and his friend be present for it,” the hat replied. “Before I begin, please call me Ewan. Sorting Hat is a bit clumsy for the relationship we shall establish this day.”

“Thank you, Ewan,” Draco said with a bow of his head. “You may call me Draco.” The other two humans added their own introductions and the group then got down to business.

“It’s been over a millennium that I have been sorting students into their houses in this fine institution, and I’ve run across exceptional magicals only a handful of times,” Ewan began softly. “For a very long time, we’ve allowed all magical beings access to Hogwarts for their education. Light creature; Dark creature; witch or wizard, it did not matter. All were magical, and all had a right to an education. The majority of the extraordinary beings I’ve sorted were of creature blood, until Albus became headmaster and, using his pull in the Ministry, forbid creatures the right to attend school. There have only been three remarkable humans that I’ve sorted; Nicholas Flamel, William de Soule and Aleister Crowley. And then there’s you, Crispin.”

“M-me?!?” the child barked incredulously. “How am I special?”

“Your survival when Riddle came to kill you had nothing to do with the Mark your father wears on his left arm,” the hat said, shocking the living daylights out of the Potions Master. “That trumped up prognostication called the Fates into play, and they were the ones to protect you because you have a destiny that was not set down by any mere ‘prophecy’. Through you, others will achieve what the goddess had been working toward since the beginning of time; complete unity of all magical species all over the world.

“You, child, as the new Alpha of all werewolf packs in the magical world; you, child, as defender and spokesman for all disenfranchised magicals, will help bring together all magical people, creatures and beings into one protected society. Your godfather had the right of it to want to keep us away from the muggles. He just went about it in the wrong way. What needs to happen is that you need to get together with dignitaries from all the different magical communities around the world and figure out how to obtain a land mass large enough to contain the magical populations without causing too much damage to the muggle world.”

“What about Dumbledore?” Crispin asked curiously. He wasn’t about to discuss the hornet’s nest that had just been dropped into his lap until he could straighten it out in his mind. Then he would get together with all of the adults important in his life and figure things out from there. “He’s dead set on seeing that the ‘prophecy’ be fulfilled by me. How am I going to avoid his machinations, especially since he got the incubator involved?”

“Incubator?” Draco asked, confused.

“An incubator is a muggle medical device that is used to help premature babies grow strong enough to leave the hospital,” Severus answered the blond. “It maintains a constant temperature and monitors the vital signs of the infant. It also provides a germ-free environment so that the baby doesn’t become sick until it’s strong enough to fight off infections and viruses.”

“Sooo, the incubator in this instance is Potter?” Malfoy queried, a slight smirk on his face.

“Indeed,” the Potions Master replied with a small smile. “A rather effective way to distance himself from that bitch.”

Crispin turned and glared at his father and friend, making them subside as the brunet waited for the hat to reply.

“Lupin will be here to interfere as necessary,” Ewan told the child reassuringly. “I will convince Dumbledore to institute a wizarding culture class, to which Black would be eminently suitable to teach. With two people who were part of his precious Order of the Phoenix in the school, and your closeness to them, he’ll believe that he has you right where he wants you. I would suggest that you have the Marauders and the demons of Gryffindor get together to keep the headmaster discombobulated enough for you to achieve the tasks that the Fates have set out for you.”

“And Lily?” Severus queried harshly. “What of her?”

“Use Phineas Nigellus Black to communicate with Bones and Shacklebolt,” the hat told them, and you could almost see a cruel smirk on the headgear’s ‘face’. “When the time is right, use him to hint at the presence of a dead woman in the school. You will know when things are ready for you to use him.”

Chapter 18

“What do I do with all of this, Draco?” Crispin asked almost desperately. They were in the Slytherin common room, talking about what Ewan had told them earlier in the week.

“Do with all of what?” Blaise queried curiously. The raven haired boy jumped at the sudden voice, and the dark-skinned Italian frowned at his twitchy friend, concerned. “What’s going on, Crispin?” he questioned softly.

“Do you remember when Crispin did that extra credit report about the Sorting Hat?” Draco asked Blaise. When the other boy nodded, the blond continued. “Well, after the interview, the hat told us that it had more information to give our friend, and we had that chat earlier this week.”

“Oh, yeah?” Theo chimed in excitedly. “What did it want to tell you?”

“First of all, it’s a ‘he’,” the brunet said with a small grin, “and his name is Ewan. He told me that the prophecy made about me is fake, which I already knew, and that the reason I survived the night my surrogate dad was killed was because the Fates have something more in store for me. Apparently I’m to be the Alpha of the entire race of werewolves.”

“Really?” Pansy squealed excitedly.

“Yeah,” Draco told everyone, “but that’s not all. It’s going to be up to our little group to convince the leaders of the other magical nations to come together to find somewhere that we can call our own. We’re supposed to find land large enough to house, not only the humans, but all of the rest of the magical creatures and beings, to protect them from the muggles.”

“Muggles can’t hurt us,” Greg scoffed, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “We have magic which makes us stronger than them.”

“All right,” Crispin said as he stared at his friend, “I can see that some education is going to be needed. We’ll meet in Father's private quarters Saturday morning and uncle Tom will explain just how dangerous muggles can be.”

“How would the Dark Lord know anything about the muggle world?” Vince asked incredulously.

“I think it’s best that you wait until this weekend so that he can tell you himself,” the Prince heir said softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did you explain everything to them, Dad?” Crispin asked that Friday evening. In the Potions Master’s quarters with Severus were Lucius, Tom, Remus and Sirius.

“I did, son,” his father answered, grinning slightly. “The news was a bit shocking, and they’re having just a bit of trouble dealing with it.”

“No more trouble than I’m having with it,” the child grumbled with a scowl. “Now, the reason I asked you here is because we’ll need to get as many people involved in this as possible, whilst having them sign a secrecy contract so that they won’t let anything slip at the wrong time. Some of my friends don’t understand what kind of threat the muggles could be, so I thought that they could meet with you, uncle Tom, so that you can give them your perspective of the dangers we face if we’re discovered.”

“That’s actually a good idea, Crispin,” his godfather said softly. “We'll meet them here first thing tomorrow morning, and we’ll all floo to Grimmauld Place so that anything we discuss won’t get back to the old man. Right now, all the portraits in these rooms have been deafened and frozen, but we can’t keep them like that all weekend. I’m sure that Sirius and Remus could set up rooms for the children to bunk in, and we’ll include a day trip into muggle London on Sunday.”

“Thanks, Tom,” the child said with a wide smile. “Now, while we are there, we can also look into land masses large enough to contain our populations that don’t have anyone living on them. I’m sure that we could use spells and rituals to make the area livable and comfortable for all of us. As for the goblins, we’ll have to take a meeting with them some time next week to discuss what we’re doing, and how we can protect them while still providing them with suitable living spaces.”

“Depending on where we relocate, we could always include another vacant bit of land just for the magical creatures,” Severus suggested. “After all, I don’t think that anything we find for the people would be big enough, or provide enough private area for things like the centaurs, unicorns and dragons.”

“Good point,” Lucius said with a smile. “I think we also should start looking into finding unbound house elves and offering them space as well. The ones that serve families and work in the government aren’t all of them; there are many who have never been bonded to wizards and are free roaming. They might be a bit feral at the moment, but I’m sure that we could talk them round to coming with us for their own protection. It will also provide us with beings whose magic can do so much more than ours can.”

“All right,” Sirius barked, “it sounds like a plan. We’ll save the bulk of the conversations for Grimmauld.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Welcome to Grimmauld Place, one and all,” Remus said to the rather large group of children. With Crispin and Draco were Blaise, Theo, Greg, Vince, Pansy, Tracey, Millie, Daphne, Wayne, Ernie, Dean, Justin, Kevin, Terry, Seamus and the twins. “There are quite a few of you here, so I’ll have Kreacher show you all to the rooms. Some of you will probably have to share.”

“Draco and I don’t mind sharing,” Crispin said with a smile.

“Theo and I can share,” Blaise told Sirius, looking at his best friend for confirmation.

“Pansy and I can share,” Daphne chimed in with a grin.

“Millie and I don’t mind sharing,” Tracey added quietly.

“Greg and I can share,” Vince agreed with a smile.

“Wayne and I can share,” Ernie said eagerly.

“Dean and I can share,” Seamus agreed gruffly.

“Justin, Kevin and I can share,” Terry told everyone.

“We’ll obviously share,” the twins said simultaneously, mischievous grins on their faces.

“I’ll have Kreacher make up the attic for Severus, Tom and Lucius,” Sirius said. “Now that everyone has chosen their roommates, follow the elf up and he’ll show you to your rooms.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“All right,” Tom said, calling everyone’s attention. “Crispin has informed me that many of you don’t understand how dangerous the muggles can be. Let me tell you a little about my childhood, and maybe you’ll understand better. I was born in an orphanage just before the start of World War II. My mother died giving birth to me, and I was left there to be raised in squalid conditions with very little food and casual neglect. The children there had learned that only the strongest could get what they needed, so the bullying and abuse was rampant.

“I grew up in an environment fraught with peril. If it wasn’t the muggle planes bombing London during the Blitz, it was muggle diseases that are now, for the most part, eradicated. Death shadowed my every step there, mostly from the falling bombs and the flying shrapnel. The orphanage was stuck in the middle of London, and we had neither the money nor the means to leave the city for the countryside, over which planes rarely flew. The purpose of the bombings was to get the muggle military of Great Britain to back out of the war between Germany and several other countries. If the Germans, Japanese and Italians could drive away the allied forces, they could continue to conquer and dominate countries as they continued to push across the European continent.

“It was during this time that some American scientists and military men, concerned that the Germans, who had developed a way to split the atom and create nuclear fission, would use the technologies against them, decided to utilize these technologies as a weapon against the German war machine if needed. They created the first atomic bombs, but didn’t wish to use them unless absolutely necessary. The war dragged on, and Japan bombed an American military port in Hawaii called Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. They sank many ships and killed hundreds of Americans, civilians and soldiers alike, which incited the American president to declare war on Japan.

“Up until that moment, the United States had stayed out of the conflict, only offering assistance to its allies as needed. It was the attack that spurred the Americans to take up arms and fight the encroaching enemies. The war dragged on for another four years, yielding thousands of casualties all across the globe until August 6, 1945. The war had ceased for the English in April of that year, but the battles between the Japanese and Americans continued on without an end in sight. On that fateful day, the United States military forces dropped a bomb onto the Japanese prefecture of Hiroshima, obliterating the city in a cloud of fire and nuclear dust. The initial blast leveled buildings within a five square mile radius and killed eighty thousand people instantly.

“The second bomb dropped on Nagasaki when the Japanese refused to surrender, and it killed an additional forty thousand people. Seeing that the United States was willing to cause such devastation, the Japanese surrendered, thus ending the war. However, people in Hiroshima and Nagasaki are still suffering to this day. Because the uranium and plutonium cores in the bombs have half-lives of seven hundred million years and twenty four thousand one hundred ten years respectively, it will take, at the minimum, just over forty eight centuries before all of the radioisotopes are gone from the air, soil and plant life in Nagasaki alone. Hiroshima is looking forward to one point four billion years before that island is once again livable.  This means that people still living in these prefectures will suffer side effects of radiation poisoning for at least one thousand seven hundred twenty two generations before the air, soil, water and food will be radiation free for Nagasaki. Unfortunately, any generations in Hiroshima will most likely become extinct as the lands there are completely inhospitable to human habitation.

“This is what we need to protect ourselves against,” Tom finished with a frown. “Not only do they have weapons that can obliterate entire societies in one go, but they have automatic and semi-automatic weapons and hand guns that shoot projectiles on average from twelve hundred meters per second to seventeen hundred meters per second. What this means is that, before you could get even one syllable of your spell out of your mouth, you would have a hole in your chest the size of a sickle that would exit your back the size of a galleon, and you would be dead almost instantly. No amount of magic would stop a bullet; no shield in existence can prevent it from hitting you. If you’re skilled enough, you could conjure a solid block of wood or stone, but even then, the speed of the projectile would hit you before you could complete your spell work.”

“If muggles are able to do all that, how are they still alive?” Millie asked, face pale.

“Because they reproduce like mad,” Severus said into the tense atmosphere. “Where we only have one or two children, the Weasleys being the exception, muggles have anywhere from one to a dozen or more children and twins aren’t as rare in the muggle world as they are here. To our, maybe, million and a half magicals, there are nearly five and a half billion muggles worldwide. But enough of the doom and gloom. Tomorrow, we’ll go out and explore muggle London so that you can see all of the marvelous things they’ve created to make their lives better and easier. Perhaps a few of you might explore ways in which we can adapt some of their more interesting inventions for use around magic.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It’s terrifying, isn’t it, Pansy?” Daphne asked that night in their shared bedroom. The rest of the day was spent playing games and getting to know the adults better, but there was an air of tense watchfulness that prevented most of the kids from being able to relax as what they had been told ran through their minds almost constantly.

“The fact that, at any time, the muggles could destroy the world and we couldn’t stop it?” the other girl asked archly. “Hell, yes, it’s damned terrifying! I think we should explore ways to save ourselves if the unthinkable should ever happen. We’ll need to have people in place around the world to watch the muggles and let us know if it ever gets close to Armageddon.”

“Good idea, Pans,” the blonde concurred with a small smile. “Since Crispin was chosen by the Fates to protect us, I think we should have a chat with him about watching the muggle world for signs of the end, so that we can be prepared when it happens.”

Chapter 19

Notes:

I know that some of the movies listed probably didn't come out in the first couple of months of 1992, but I don't care. Out of all of the films I looked at, these were the most amusing, interesting or eye-catching for the year.

The whole gang, including all of the adults, were in muggle London the following day, looking around with wide eyes at all the people rushing to and fro as they went about their business. “Oh, hey, Crispin?” Pansy asked quietly.

“Yeah?” the raven haired boy replied.

“Daphne and I were talking last night about what we’d learned from Tom, and we have a suggestion,” she told her friend.

“Okay,” the preteen boy said with a nod. The group was coming up on an indoor multiplex and the muggleborns were clamoring to go inside.

“Well, we were a bit worried at how the muggles could possibly wipe us all out in one go, and we thought we should have key people circulating in all areas of the muggle world to keep an eye on the goings-on. They don’t know about us yet, so they don’t have a need to destroy us, but they seem to have a deep-seated drive to kill off each other. We’re just afraid that some whack job will get into power in a country that has nuclear capabilities, and then start a global thermonuclear war. If things seem to be spiraling that way some time in the future, a little warning might actually save our existence.”

“That’s a very good point, Pansy,” Crispin said with a worried frown. “We’ll bring it up and discuss options when we get back to Grimmauld Place.”

“Um, does anyone have any muggle money?” Ernie asked excitedly, jarring the pair out of their serious conversation. Sighing heavily and expecting something of this sort, Tom pulled out a wad of pound notes from his trouser pocket. They walked up to the ticket window and examined all the movies on display. There was Batman Returns on screen one, Death Becomes Her on screen two, Wayne’s World on screen three, Buffy the Vampire Slayer on screen four, Toys on screen five, Pet Sematary II on screen six, Beauty and the Beast on screen seven, Hook on screen eight and The Addams Family on screen nine.

“We can’t see Batman Returns or Pet Sematary II because most of you haven’t seen the first films yet,” Wayne said logically. “Wayne’s World won’t make sense unless you’ve seen Saturday Night Live on the telly, and even I wasn’t allowed to watch that show. Death Becomes Her, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and The Addams Family are supposed to be comedies with a macabre or supernatural twist. Hook and Toys are fantasies, and both star Robin Williams, who is just about the funniest man alive, and Beauty and the Beast is an animated film based on a fairy tale written by some woman.”

“Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve,” Pansy said a little snottily. When both Wayne and Ernie spun around to stare at her incredulously, she continued with a blush on her face. “My mum liked to go out into the muggle world and find stories that centered around witchcraft and magic. Beauty and the Beast was one of them.”

“I’m not really in the mood for a kiddie show,” Blaise told everyone with a frown. “The Addams Family sounds like it would be interesting.” Everyone else agreed, and Tom bought twenty three tickets, which cost £73.83. Sirius whistled lowly at the price tag, wincing slightly at how much money they’d just spent for movie tickets.

Smirking, Tom looked over at the animagus and said, “Just wait until we get to the concession stand.” Everyone piled into the theater lobby, each child handing their ticket to the ticket-taker, who tore off the stub to hand back to the boy or girl who gave it to him. Once everyone was inside, Riddle said, “You must make your choices quickly. We only have twenty minutes until the movie starts.” Chattering excitedly, Wayne and Ernie explained all the snack choices on hand, as well as the different sodas, punches and beverages available. The total for that was £123 even. Black nearly had a heart attack at the amount of money spent as they made their way to the correct screening, the wizard-raised children chattering excitedly at the thought of enjoying something new and different.

“This all cost just shy of forty galleons,” the Dark Lord whispered to Sirius as the lights went down. “Hardly a drop in the bucket considering how much money we have between us.”

“Yeah, all right,” the animagus agreed begrudgingly. “At least the kids will have a good time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That was awesome,” Crispin crowed delightedly. After The Addams Family, the kids were able to talk the adults into taking them to see Death Becomes Her. No more snacks were purchased; Remus wanted the children to save enough room for dinner. It wasn’t too difficult to convince Voldemort to part with more money; it had been too many years since he, himself, had gone to the cinema, and things had changed quite a bit from that long gone time.

“It was,” Theo enthused happily. “I wouldn’t mind making this a regular thing.”

“Me, neither,” chimed in several other voices. They had stopped at a local pizza shop and picked up several large pies with a variety of toppings, six large orders of barbecued ribs, six large orders of potato wedges and more sodas. The men bought some bottles of Fuller’s London Porter for themselves to top off the night in style. Once back at number twelve, the kids settled in around the much larger kitchen table, waiting to dig into, for quite a few of them, a most unique dining experience. Everyone grabbed a plate and picked which slice they’d like to try, along with three ribs and a handful of wedges. Armed with bottles of their new favorite sodas, they chattered away as they ate, leaving Remus, Tom, Sirius and Severus to watch the group a bit bemusedly.

“Several of the kids here are from rigid blood purist families,” Severus murmured as he and the others sat at the breakfast bar. “They changed their views about muggles quite easily after your history lesson yesterday, Tom.”

“Indeed,” Remus concurred, smiling in amusement as the children argued over which muggle invention was the best. “Today’s outing showed them the best of muggle ingenuity, so they’re developing a healthy respect for all that the mundanes can do. I would not be surprised if, after we find a new place to live that will ensure our own survival, some of these very children start working on ways to integrate some of the best inventions into our world.”

“That would require exploring the proper runic series to ensure that the electronics are powered by magic, but not destroyed by magic,” Tom said ruminatively. “I’ll talk it over with some Masters I know and see what kind of ideas we all can have.” The children finished their meal well after the adults and everyone trooped into the living room, the kids groaning from overly full bellies.

“That was some of the best food I’ve ever had,” Blaise enthused with a grin. “I wonder if it would be too difficult for the house elves to master.”

“You could always get them muggle recipe books,” Sirius offered with a grin. “Of course, in order for the food to taste its best, it can’t be made with magic.”

“That’s true,” Remus added softly. “There are some processes that muggle foods go through that can’t be done or augmented by magic, so you’ll have to encourage your parents to outfit their kitchens with muggle appliances, once we figure out how to get them to work around the magic.”

“We have that already in the works,” Tom interjected, as he saw several of the youngsters open their mouths to clamor for things other than kitchenware.

“That’s excellent, uncle Tom,” Crispin said with a grin. The preteen grew serious as he looked at his mentors and parental figures, and the grownups’ eyes narrowed in concern. “Pansy brought up something that she and Daphne had discussed before they went to sleep last night. They’re afraid that the mundanes will use nuclear weapons to destroy each other, and we won’t be warned in enough time to take shelter. As well, we haven’t even considered building or creating something that would protect us from nuclear fallout in the long term. She suggested, and I think it’s a brilliant idea, to get some of our people out into the muggle world to keep an eye on things. We all know that the mundanes are violent to each other, and it’s not too far out of the realm of possibility that someone in a country armed with nuclear weapons would push that button if they thought they would benefit from the results.

“I’ve also been thinking about Dumbledore and his influence over the wizarding world. We know that he’s bloody pedantic about merging our world with the mundane one, thinking that we’ll all get along together and sing Kumbaya around a campfire whilst we roast marshmallows and make s’mores. There are those magicals we won’t be able to transplant, no matter how convincing we may be, just because St. Dumbledore said it was a bad idea.”

“First off, very good points, Pansy and Daphne,” Tom said, smirking as the girls blushed in pleasure at the praise. “We do, indeed, need to have eyes and ears in the muggle world for the time that their Armageddon comes. As for finding a way to survive the bombings, I think we only have need to look to the goblins for our salvation. If we can reassure them that they will always be treated fairly by us, we can get them to create underground cities for us to move to when the shite hits the fan. There have been several close calls in recent history; the cold war being one of them; and I’ve no doubt there’ll be close calls in the future. After all, the United States tends to stick their noses in where they don’t belong, and they have yet to elect the one despot that will categorically see the nuclear option as the best solution to conflict.

“We won’t have time if we wait until the buttons are pushed. So I think that they should keep watch for key events during their sojourns into the muggle world that would indicate the direction a particular nation is willing to move. If the signs are there, we’ll need to bug out as quickly as possible to ensure that we don’t get caught in the aftermath. We’ll put some muggleborn military minds into our Ministry that will know the signs, and the spies, for lack of a better term, will send them weekly reports, including muggle newspapers if necessary.

“I would like Wayne, Ernie, Dean, Seamus, Justin and Kevin get in touch with your halfblood and muggleborn relatives to see if they know of some magical military personnel that would like to help us. We’re not just focusing on the muggleborns; we’d like to include as much of their extended families as possible, since they carry the DNA for magic in their blood and cells. We’ll also need to put a call out to any squibs that would like to return to our magical world, as long as we can include the muggle conveniences with which they grew up. If we start the planning and building now, we won’t be caught with our pants down later.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Potions Master Snape?” said a painting of Medusa above his fireplace mantel. They had found the portrait buried amongst the unwanted paintings in Grimmauld Place, and Severus thought it would be the perfect thing to spy on Lily. She had a painting of twining serpents above her own fireplace of which she barely took notice. Unlike a great many muggles, she had never found snakes to be repulsive or frightening, and didn’t give the canvas a second thought. Because of the subject matter within the frame, Medusa was able to stealthily slink into the painting, the snakes on her head blending in with the serpents already present. She always kept her back to the room so that her face would be hidden from those sharp green eyes.

“Yes, my lady?” the potions professor responded, making Medusa blush. He’d always treated her with respect, and she was willing to do anything to help him protect his son.

“Potter is talking about ‘accidentally’ stumbling into your son and pressing a portkey on him, keyed to the cottage in which she’d been hiding all these years. She already went there over the weekend and put up a bunch of wards to keep him prisoner once he arrives. She even closed down the floo with a password. She said something about using him as a way to coerce you into agreeing to a relationship.”

“That would do it,” Severus growled angrily, “if it meant that I’d be keeping my son safe.”

“She has no house elves and hasn’t stocked the larder since she came to the school, so the child would probably starve to death before anyone could find him,” the painting said softly, knowing that her news would upset the man greatly.

“I’ll just have to include tracking charms on his heir ring, and see if I can somehow legilimize her so that I can get the location of the cottage,” Snape murmured softly, eyes far away as he pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “Meanwhile, I’ll keep him close, and make sure that his friends are watching, too. If she thinks she can harm my child, she has another think coming.”

Chapter 20

“All right,” Severus barked, calling the impromptu meeting to order. He was in Grimmauld Place with his son, Draco, Lucius and Tom, as well as the current occupants of the townhouse. They had flooed there as soon as classes for the day were finished; Snape was too agitated to wait until the weekend, and he hadn’t said anything to the other participants as to why he was gathering everyone together. “We have a problem that I’d like to take care of tonight.”

“Are we finally going to get rid of Potter?” Draco asked, an anticipatory gleam in his eye.

“Sadly, no,” Snape replied with a snort of laughter. “I have that portrait of Medusa in my private rooms, and she can enter the serpent painting above Potter’s mantle without being seen. She came to me this afternoon and told me that the bitch is planning on using a portkey to spirit Crispin away to a hidden cabin where she lived when she fled, and she intends to use him to pull me to her. Obviously this would work wonders, since I’d do just about anything to protect my son. The problem is that she has no food, no house elves and that little hovel is warded to the nines, which means that she isn’t intending on turning my son over to me once I agree to her terms. She intends on letting him starve to death, thinking that once he’s out of my life I’ll have no trouble letting her back into my life.”

“We need to get with Filius and the others as soon as possible and explain things,” Sirius said, eyes wide with panic. “Give them the maps and get them to watch out for our pup.”

“Agreed,” Tom chimed in, scowling. “However, that won’t protect Crispin should she actually be able to touch him with a portkey, and once he’s out of the castle, that’s it.”

“I want to put a bunch of spells on his heir ring,” Severus offered, silencing everyone quite effectively. “However, I’m not quite as magically strong as you are, Tom, so I’d like you to place the enchantments.”

“I...I don’t know what to say,” Riddle stammered, ruby eyes soft on his best friend. “I’m overwhelmed at the faith you have in me.”

“I have to agree with Severus,” Lupin contributed with a soft smile. “There’s not another wizard in creation as powerful as you, nor is there anyone alive with the knowledge of magic that you have.”

“All right,” Tom said huskily, then cleared his throat, swallowing down the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. “What kind of spells would you like on the ring?”

“Can you ward it against portkeys?” Draco asked. To him, that was the only important spell needed.

“I can, little one,” Tom told the blond fondly. “I can also put tracking charms on it, as well as spells to shield Crispin against any destructive spells, except for the Unforgivables. If you want,” the man added, looking at Severus closely, “I could make the ring a timed portkey itself. I can set it to go off automatically if he’s taken away from you at any time, with a hesitation that will allow you to get the coordinates of the place or area to which he’d been portkeyed. That way you’ll have the evidence necessary to prosecute whomever for kidnapping.”

“This is why we all think that you should be the one in charge when we make our mass exodus,” Sirius said with a relieved sigh and a smile. “We couldn’t possibly be in better hands than yours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Filius? Might I have a word with you?” Severus asked the little man. It was a week before the Ostara holiday and the Potions Master was anxious to get everything in place before the next year.

“Of course, Severus,” the part-goblin replied as he followed the taller man to an abandoned classroom down a darkened corridor on the third floor. The little man’s eyes widened when he saw Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Irma Pince and Pomona Sprout in the room, waiting for them. “If I might ask, what is going on?” the charms professor asked as Severus closed the door and heavily warded the room.

“We have some information to impart, but before we do, we ask that you sign this secrecy contract,” Lupin told everyone as he pulled a rolled up piece of parchment from a pocket in his robes. Sirius had transfigured a broken student desk into a platform that would magically adjust height to accommodate everyone in the room, on which the werewolf set the contract and a blood quill.

“A blood quill?” Pomona asked, slightly scandalized.

“With the care and caution you gentlemen are taking, may I assume that the information is extremely sensitive?” Irma queried, her normally dour expression morphing into one of wary concern.

“It is,” Severus admitted with a grimace. “Certain people must not know that others are being made aware of a situation that has arisen within the school.”

“Am I to take it, from that rather cryptic statement, that the headmaster either isn’t privy to the information you wish to share, or that he is, and that if he found out that others knew, things might get dangerous?” Filius cut through the oblique conversation like a scythe.

“I cannot say anything more until you sign the contract,” Severus told everyone. “Certain people’s safety could be dangerously compromised otherwise.” Flitwick looked at the Potions Master carefully and noticed the slight look of panic in the other man’s dark eyes and, nodding to himself, stepped up to the plinth, which helpfully lowered, so that he could read the pact over carefully. His eyebrows skated into his hairline in surprise at the stringent parameters of the arrangement, but he picked up the quill and signed anyway, sure that the explanation would justify the pledge. After a moment’s hesitation, both Sprout and Pince signed the form, flinching slightly as it glowed brightly before disappearing.

Sirius and Remus had transfigured some of the broken desks and chairs into comfortable furniture and everyone sat down, the expectant air heightening as Severus shifted slightly, preparing to let others in on the secret he’d carried since before the beginning of school. “Lily Potter did not die that night,” was not what the other three professors expected to hear, and they sat back in their seats, looks of horror, shock and outrage on their faces.

Sirius pulled a copy of the Marauder’s map out of an inside pocket of his robes and touched his wand to it. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he intoned loudly, making sure everyone in the room heard the passphrase. Once it had filled in completely, he handed it to Filius, who looked at with excited curiosity.

“Oh, my,” he murmured softly as he saw the entirety of Hogwarts, including the Chamber of Secrets. He watched in fascinated bemusement as the students trundled through the hallways and shifted about in classes, their footprints leading to and fro as they went through their day. He looked at the third floor and his eyes widened as he saw the footprints of himself, Pomona, Irma, Sirius, Remus and Severus in the very classroom in which they sat. “This is a masterful piece of charms work,” he said distractedly. He noticed the History of Magic classroom held a name that should not be there, and he scowled, a little of his goblin heritage showing through as he growled lowly.

“What is it, Filius?” Sprout asked, leaning closer to the little man. Silently he handed the map to the herbology professor, his hoary finger pointing at Lily Potter’s name as it paced back and forth in front of the students. Pomona gasped loudly, hand flying to her mouth in shock as her eyes told her that someone they had thought dead for nearly ten years wasn’t. She quickly leaned over to the librarian and showed her the map.

“How did she survive that when James didn’t?” Irma wanted to know, her anger well controlled.

“She imperioed a homeless girl and, using polyjuice, had the young lady take her place when the Dark Lord came calling that night,” Severus growled angrily. “Her intentions were to allow both James and our son die that night. She...she came to me one night after they went into hiding, lamenting her marriage and her fear of the Dark Lord. Of course, since she was my best friend, I offered her a shoulder upon which to cry. She plied me with alcohol, and in a drunken haze we had sex, which resulted in her pregnancy. She told me that night that she’d made a mistake when she chose James; that she loved me and always would. It broke my heart at the time, but I was never one to encourage adultery, and she had made her choice.

“I wasn’t aware that the child was mine until the spy Albus had put in Crispin’s neighborhood, to watch over him, sent me the letter that Lily had left me, in which she told me that Crispin was mine. I immediately went to that muggle hovel and rescued him from those beastly people, and it was the best decision I’ve ever made. Later on, I found a diary in the vault James had left for my child that told me everything I didn’t want to know about the mother of my son. It was full of obsessive rantings about me, and it also outlined her plans to murder my son and her husband, so that she could be free to pursue me.

“She confronted us whilst we were out picking up Crispin’s school supplies, and I told her, point blank, that she had no hope of ever gaining my good regard after she left my son to die. Obviously, since she’s here, she hasn’t taken the hint. Now she’s trying everything she can to get on the good side of my son in hopes that Crispin will encourage me to accept her advances. We’ve been doing what we can to interfere, but we can’t be everywhere, so we decided to get some of the professors involved in watching out for my son. She’s also been plotting to portkey Crispin to her hideaway and leave him there to starve to death. After talking about it with some friends, we decided that you three would be the most trustworthy, considering how you felt about the woman when she was in school. Also, none of you are as far up Albus’ arse as Minerva is, which means that we can keep Crispin out of the old man’s hands, as well.”

"There are anti-portkey wards on the castle, Severus," Irma Pince explained gently.  "She won't be able to do anything to him in that direction."

"I'm sure that she could talk Albus into giving her an exception in the wards," Snape explained worriedly. "She's evidently become quite the talented little liar since before her 'death', if she's had us all fooled; I don't want to take a chance on 'maybe' with her."

"Fair enough," Pomona soothed the younger man quietly. "We obviously don't really know the woman as well as we thought we did."

“What does Albus want with your son?” Filius asked curiously. Remus had pulled two more maps out of his pocket when he saw that the three teachers seemed to accept everything, and he handed one to Sprout and one to Pince, who distractedly nodded their thanks as they listened to the Potions Master.

“He’s trying to make Crispin into the Boy Who Lived,” Snape snarled angrily. “He wants a boy warrior to fight against a non-existent evil.”

“But we all know that He Who Must Not Be Named was the one to kill James Potter, that homeless girl, and attempt to kill your son,” Irma pointed out logically. “Of course he’s the evil against whom we must fight.”

“I might be offended by that description, if it weren’t for the fact that Albus had manipulated things to his favor that night,” Tom said as he dropped the disillusionment charm under which he had stood for the entire meeting. He strode forward and sat in the lone empty chair and smiled charmingly at the three stunned professors.

“Is this why you had us sign that secrecy contract?” Filius squeaked angrily as he rounded on the potions professor. "How was it that his name didn't show up on the map?  Are you trying to trick us?"

“We are not trying to trick you, Filius,” Severus intoned, wincing at the part-goblin's fury.  "Tom's vast well of magic, as well as his knowledge of long-forgotten spells and rituals, enabled him to mask himself from the map until he needed to appear. We're not trying to hoodwink you in any way; Lord Riddle's appearance here is a show of trust. It's to prove to you that we're willing to share all we know with you, in hopes that you'll return that faith to us by protecting Crispin and coming with us when we create our own space, where we can live without worrying about exposing magic to the muggles. The only thing that Tom is concentrating on is providing our world with a way to live our lives safely and without fear.

“Through certain allies in the Ministry, Tom has been able to have so many of the restrictive laws against magical creatures and human-creature hybrids changed so that those magicals are more accepted in wizarding society. As far as Lord Riddle is concerned, magic is magic, no matter the package in which it comes. He’s not the evil megalomaniac that you’ve been led to believe he is. A big part of Albus’ goal is to become more relevant to wizarding society once again. His popularity and the reverence of most of magical society has waned, since his defeat of Grindelwald was so long ago. He’s looking to get that loyalty and admiration back, and he figured that vilifying Tom and creating an infant wizard warrior to whom he can become a mentor is the way to go. Hence the fairy tale of the Boy Who Lived.”

Chapter 21

“Harry, my boy. Do you mind if we have a little chat?” Albus said. He’d found the child in the library, sitting alone at a rather large table. The sudden voice startled the Snape heir, and he jumped a little, scowling at the old man as he took a seat across from the boy. His friends were running a little late; the Weasley twins were working on a prank that would torture Lily Potter for some time to come, distracting her enough to ignore Crispin for a while. They intended to use it on her during the next term, and with the addition of Dobby to their crew, getting the powder into her tea would be easy as pie.

“My name is Crispin Severus Snape, as you well know,” the eleven year old growled. End of term was fast approaching, and the preteen wanted to study as much as he could so that he could pass the exams in two weeks. “And no, we may not have a little chat. I’ve nothing to say to you, and I’ll thank you to leave me alone.” In a dungeon potions classroom, Severus was walking in and out of the desks, peering into cauldrons and guiding the students when necessary. The open parchment on his desk glowed red for a moment, alerting the Potions Master that someone was near his son that shouldn’t be.

“Mr. Weasley,” the dour man remarked as he strode up to his desk and checked it out before closing it, folding it up and putting it in an interior pocket. Percy looked at the professor attentively, frown line creasing the space between his eyebrows. “Keep an eye on the class. I have an urgent matter that needs my attention.” Without another word the older man stalked out the door and up the corridor, whilst the redhead took his place, casting a stasis charm on his cauldron before pacing up and down the aisles between the desks and monitoring his classmates’ progress; assisting wherever he could to make sure that no one caused a catastrophic potions accident.

Severus entered the library in enough time to hear the headmaster say, “Now, Harry, don’t be like that. Your parents and I were very good friends, and I know that they would want you to show the proper respect due me because of my maturity and status in the wizarding world.”

“Considering your advanced age and the years you’ve lived in the magical world, it surprises me that you don’t offer the same amount of respect to others that you demand for yourself,” the Snape heir remarked scathingly. “That you continue to condescend to me by calling me the name that never belonged to me indicates a rather overblown sense of self-importance and a complete lack of awareness for the social niceties.

“Now, my name is Crispin Severus Snape, and I would appreciate it if you called me heir Snape from now on. After all, we must adhere to pureblood protocols and since your position in this school is beneath me as an heir to a well-established house, and since I’ve never given you leave to call me by my given name, no matter that it’s the wrong one, I respectfully request that you cease being overly familiar with me. We are not friends, nor are we mentor and protégé, so we must keep the proper, respectful distance between us, given our statuses in the wizarding world.”

“Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore growled angrily, his magic slipping its leash and causing a disruptive breeze to circulate around the library. Madam Pince started forward as soon as she felt the old man’s temper, but Severus held up his hand, waiting for whatever the old man had to say. “I am your headmaster; many decades your elder and far wiser than you. I demand that you grant me the respect I deserve as the leader of the Light. You have a sacred duty to the wizarding world that has been set down by prophecy, and I have been chosen by Magick herself to guide and train you. I will not allow you to shirk you duties to the people of the magical world because you have some sort of delusion that Severus Snape is your father. I expect you in my office every night after dinner, when we will begin your training.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Severus finally said as he strode forward, startling a cry from the old man. “You see, headmaster, my son is not Harry Potter, no matter how much you insist that he is. I’ve provided ample evidence to Gringotts and the Ministry’s Child Welfare office that proves that Crispin is my son. Therefore, since he is not, in fact, Harry Potter, he has no part in this alleged prophecy. Furthermore, he may only engage in extracurricular school activities with my permission. You have no authority over him in any capacity but headmaster, and the only topics you may discuss with him must be school-related. Any outside or extracurricular activities must go through me first.

“As to this ‘extra’ training you wish to give him, as his father I deny your request. You may not attempt to involve my son in your manipulations and if I hear of you taking him to your office for any reason without notifying me, I will have you up before the School Board of Governors on charges of dereliction of your duties to the school and violating the Hogwarts Charter, which clearly states that you may schedule activities for students, outside the normal school day, only with the permission of the parents, in writing. Now, my son’s friends are waiting for him in my personal quarters so, Crispin, if you would?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why didn’t you guys meet me in the library?” was the first thing Crispin said as he entered his dad’s private rooms. “I was waiting for you, and Dumbledore sat down and tried to assert his dominance over me.”

“Sorry about that, Crispin,” Draco murmured, a little shamefaced. “We were just about to leave here and meet with you when uncle Sev came in and told us to stay here. He didn’t say why; he just took off.”

“My map glowed red and alerted me that someone who wasn’t permitted was with you, son,” his father told the preteen quietly. “I left as soon as I closed and put away the map. I stopped here to tell the others to stay put before I made my quick way to the library. I got there in enough time to hear you put the old man in his place, and when he tried to bully you into obeying him, that’s when I stepped in. Irma was standing in front of her desk; she was getting ready to confront the headmaster for allowing his magic to disrupt the library, but I waved her off.”

“So what did that wrinkled old nut sack want?” Dean asked curiously. “I actually think that this is the first time he’s confronted you since you started here.”

“He wanted to tell me of my duty to the wizarding world in eradicating Tom,” the brunet replied with a scowl. “He knows that there’s some sort of prophecy about me and my uncle, and he wanted me to meet with him in his office after dinner every day so that he could teach me. I'm pretty damn sure that he doesn't know the actual prognostication; just the one that Trelawney fed him.”

“It...it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take the lessons,” Blaise chimed in hesitantly. “After all, we’ve been looking for ways to get more information on Dumbledore’s purpose for you, and his reasoning behind having Potter teaching here, so agreeing to the chats might net us what we want.”

“I...I don’t want to be in that office alone with him,” Crispin protested. “He gives me the creeps with the way he’s always staring at me during meals. He might try something whilst I’m there.”

“The solution is simple,” Draco contributed with a grin. “Dobby is over the moon about you, Crispin. He loves you even more than any of the Malfoys. I can talk to Father and have the elf bound to you. That way he’ll be able to accompany you to the meetings without being seen, and he’ll be there to protect you should that old man try something.”

“I like it, Draco,” Severus agreed happily. “House elf magic is so much stronger than human magic, since their beginnings were directly from Magick herself. They, and a lot of the other magical creatures, are pure magic. There’s nothing that the old man could do to you from which Dobby won’t be able to safeguard you or to counteract. He’ll just be an extra layer of protection on top of your heir ring. I also think he’d be a good assistant/spokesperson for you with the werewolf clans. Fenrir might be able to guide you, but it takes a delicate touch to control so many different types of personalities. I think Dobby would be an excellent stopgap between you and the wolven clans.”

“All right,” the emerald eyed boy finally agreed resignedly. “If you lot think it’s a good idea for me to meet with that old fossil, I’ll do it. Just make sure that I have Dobby on my side before I let Dumbledore know I’m willing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Sirius?” Remus asked quietly. They were in their bedroom, getting ready to meet with Dumbledore so that the animagus and the lycan could sign their employment contracts.

“Yeah, Moony?” Padfoot replied distractedly. He was fussing with the collar of his formal robes, scowling at the idea of dressing up for a flipping job interview.

“Have you seen James’ invisibility cloak?” the lycan queried, puzzled.

“Not...not lately,” the animagus replied with a frown. “I know he had it before they went into hiding, but it wasn’t at the cottage when I went back a few weeks after they were killed, and I know it wasn’t in the vaults or else Crispin would probably have given it to one of us.”

“Didn’t Dumbledore have it at one point?” Lupin asked. “I distinctly remember hearing him ask James for it just before they went into hiding.”

“You think he might still have the cloak?” Sirius questioned, looking at his mate worriedly.

“Only one way to find out,” was the reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you doing here?” Albus asked a little angrily. It was three days before the summer holiday and the headmaster was still a little put out at his puppet’s staunch refusal to cooperate with him. Remus smiled slightly at the irritated old man, while Sirius openly laughed at him. The werewolf elbowed his mate harshly in the ribs as he watched watery blue eyes narrow angrily.

“I’ve come to talk to you about the class I’m to teach next term,” Black said after he’d gotten himself under control. “I figured I might as well sign the contract and get the logistics of the class before the beginning of the next term. That way I’ll be able to order the right books for the students.”

“Of course, my boy,” Dumbledore said jovially, his eyes twinkling madly and his fit of pique forgotten. “Have a seat and we’ll get started.” Once Sirius and Remus perched in the squashy chairs in front of the antique oak desk, Albus rifled through one of the drawers before pulling forth the standard Hogwarts professor’s contract. He quickly filled in the class name, which was Wizarding Culture and Traditions before sliding it over to the animagus. He then pushed the contract for Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to Lupin. Both men scrawled their names across the bottom with a blood quill before returning the forms to Albus, who put his signature at the bottom of each form, also with the blood quill, and then filing them away.

“Now, do I need to remind you that you need to keep knowledge of your ‘furry little problem’ under wraps whilst you are here?” the old man asked rather prohibitively.

“Did you forget, Albus, that Lucius Malfoy repealed and overturned all of those anti-creature laws on the books?” Remus reminded the other man archly.

“I...ah...I guess I did,” Dumbledore mumbled, flushing with embarrassment. “So many things have happened this year that it completely slipped my mind. I am sorry if I’ve insulted you, my boy.”

“No harm,” the werewolf replied, a sly smile on his face. “I have something else about which I’d like to talk to you.” At the eager nod from the old man, the lycan continued. “I overheard you ask James if you could borrow his invisibility cloak. It wasn’t in the burned out cottage, and it wasn’t in Crispin’s heritage vault. Do you still have it, and why haven’t you returned it to its rightful owner?”

Chapter 22

“We have a surprise for you, pup,” Sirius trumpeted as the kids tumbled off of the Hogwarts Express. Instantly the Snape heir was in his uncle's arms, being snuggled and cuddled quite enthusiastically as Lucius and Narcissa watched, amusement glimmering in their eyes.

“When we get home,” Severus intoned restrictively. At the sheepish nod of the animagus, everyone grabbed onto the children and apparated away. With Crispin went Draco, Blaise, Theo, Vince and the twins. They landed in the entryway of Malfoy Manor and instantly loped up the stairs and to their rooms, where they dropped off their trunks and things. The elder Malfoys had been contacted by Severus a week before the end of school to inform them that there would be a few more kids joining them at the end of the year. They prepared an entire wing for the group, putting all of the kids in one area so that they could meet and hang out without worrying about adult interference. Of course, Theo, Draco and Crispin retained their original bedrooms, since they lived there full-time.

Everyone met up in the dining room for dinner; riding for several hours on a train without any sort of real sustenance worked up an appetite. Once everyone was settled, Remus pulled a shimmery bit of cloth from a robe pocket and held it up. “What’s that?” Crispin asked quietly, eyes wide.

“It’s James’ heirloom invisibility cloak,” the werewolf replied with a smile. “Since Jamie recognized you as his son, it now belongs to you.”

“I can’t take that,” the child demurred gently. “As with the map and the inheritance, I’m not the true son of James Potter, even though he recognized me as such. I mean, it’s nice and all, and if things had worked out differently, I would probably feel differently about it. I was supremely lucky in that my father came and rescued me before I had to spend too much time with those wretched people, and I am proud to be a Snape. The cloak is the last real legacy of your best friend, and I think you and Padfoot should keep it. After all, Sirius, you’ve told me often enough that James was like a brother to you, and that his parents took you in when you had nowhere else to go. James’ grandmother was Dorea Black, which made him a closer relation to you, so by rights it should belong to you.”

“Thank you, pup,” the animagus husked, tears shimmering in his lashes. “I’d like to think that, had James raised you, you’d be this kind, considerate and humble, but then I remember what an arrogant little shite James was in school and I find myself rethinking that idea.” He turned to the Potions Master with a grin. “I daresay that I don’t think our pup could possibly be in better hands.”

“Thank you, Sirius,” Severus replied, blushing slightly at the unexpected praise.

“Remus?” Crispin cut in before his uncle Paddy could say anything unwelcome. When the werewolf looked at the child, he continued. “You and I need to have a little discussion after dinner, if that’s all right with you.”

“Of course, cub,” the lycan answered with a nod. “I’ve got a good idea what it’s about, and I agree.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ever since the hat dropped that massive amount of unexpected information on me, I’ve been meditating on it,” Crispin started as soon as they sat down in front of the fireplace. “I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re to be my Beta.”

“W-what?” Remus sputtered, shocked. “Bu-but I’m Sirius’ mate. I don’t think of you that way. Besides, you’re far too young for a relationship like that.”

“Not like that, you goofy werewolf,” the raven haired child protested, face fire engine red in embarrassment. “You’re to be my second-in-command. Since I’m Alpha, that makes you Beta.”

“Yes...all right. I guess I can see what you’re saying,” the lycan told the child with no small amount of relief. “I still think you might be making a mistake, though.”

“How so?” the emerald eyed boy queried, raven black brow winging up on his forehead, interested in the other man’s reasoning.

“I’m...I’m weak,” Remus whispered, embarrassed. “I’ve never really been bold or brave. I mean, look at how I abdicated my responsibilities as prefect in fifth year, which almost cost Severus and myself our lives and Sirius his freedom. Had it not been for James, you would be in a far different world right now.”

“You have lived with your condition from the age of six,” Crispin insisted heatedly. “Most people would have killed themselves long before reaching adulthood, but you didn’t. You learned to manage your affliction and still successfully complete your magical education. Even after graduation, and in spite of the attempted sexual assault when you were twelve, you continued to work toward your survival. You’re one of the strongest and bravest men I know. Besides, who else but another werewolf would be able to understand the way that others of your kind had to endure; what they had to go through day in and day out just to exist.

“Now, what we need to do over the next couple of years is scout out as many isolated manor houses and mansions as we can and convert them to living spaces for the werewolf populations. Until we pull up stakes and move to our own land, they’ll need some place where they can be assured of food, shelter, and a place to run during the full moon. Preferably these homes will be on islands, or in the middle of dense forests where the human population rarely ever goes. We can take a look at deserted islands around the world and see if we can find suitable environments for them. We might have to build some homes, but I don’t see any problem with that.”

“Those are all good ideas, and I agree,” Remus told the youth with a small proud smile. Crispin flushed under the approval, grinning at his uncle happily. “The only fly in the ointment that occurs to me is Fenrir Greyback. He was the werewolf who turned me, and I’m not too sure of his mental stability. I believe he was rogue then, so he might not accept you as Alpha to the werewolf nation.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” the child replied pragmatically. “Right now, I think we should discuss how we’re going to get things in motion. We obviously can’t advertise for werewolves; the Ministry would try to interfere with our desires to gather together as many of the lycanthropes as possible. I know uncle Lucius has done a lot to make things easier for you, but if a bunch of lycans started gathering in one place, I think they’ll panic.”

“You’re not wrong,” Remus muttered under his breath. “Right now, we can start by word of mouth,” he said louder, valiantly ignoring the smirk on his cub’s face. “I have been in contact with a few wolves who would like to be put to work. We could recruit some to do the research and legwork for us, scouting out locations and pulling together lists of resources and possible residents. Others would be willing to build the homes, if the islands we choose don’t already have one. This way, they won’t feel like they’re receiving any sort of charity. They’ll feel like they’ve contributed to their own survival.”

“I like that,” the Snape heir agreed cheerfully. “I think we’ll need to take a census first, to figure out how many werewolves there are worldwide. From there we can figure out how many homes we need, what their locations should be, and any research into the native animals; their populations and whether they’re endangered. After all, we can't expect them to stay inside on the full moon nights and ignore their instincts to hunt. That would be unconscionably cruel.”

“If we’re going to do this for the werewolves, then maybe we can do it for the vampires, as well,” Remus suggested softly. “They’re always in danger of being exterminated, and their own shelters change frequently so that they don’t risk their flocks being discovered and extinguished. For them, we’d also need to set up a ready food supply so that they won’t have to hunt, thereby risking themselves, their victims and the progress Lucius has made with the creature laws.”

“I can go along with that,” the boy concurred thoughtfully. “We are, after all, trying to figure out how to move magicals to their own land and protect them against the muggle Armageddon when it happens, so we might as well provide safe havens for other endangered magical creatures and beings.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’ve found some keepsakes that I think you might like to have,” Sirius told Crispin a few days later. Remus had contacted some of his lycan friends and had gotten the word out that there was going to be an Alpha supreme to guide and protect all werewolves. Ecstatic, those friends took the tasks with which they were assigned and ran with them; bringing in information by the boatload and assembling it under the appropriate headings, so that the Alpha could look over the intelligence in a more cohesive way. Sirius pulled out a small box from the credenza in the study at Grimmauld Place. He and Remus had gone through boxes of things that they had collected over the years, and had assembled a bunch of photographs into an album for the child. He pulled the book from the box and handed it to Crispin, who sat down in a chair to look through it. While the boy did that, the animagus placed a watch, whose face had four hands with minuscule names on them; one for 'Harry', one for Lily, one for Remus and one for Sirius on the coffee table in front of the child.  Instead of numbers were words, like home, at work, mortal peril and death; the watch had stopped with the hand for the child at 'mortal peril', and the one for Lily stuck in between 'at home' and 'death'.  Beside that was set James' wedding ring and his wand.

Most of the pictures were of Remus, Sirius and James in Hogwarts; horsing around and being obnoxious teenagers. Every once in a while Crispin could see Severus standing behind the three, looking longingly at them as if he were wishing for a bond of friendship as deep and meaningful as they had. “Why don’t I see any pictures of Lily?” the child asked as he flipped through the pages.

“Your dad knew a spell that would prevent her from invading the photos,” Sirius growled lowly. Any time his cub’s mother’s name was mentioned, the animagus wanted to rend her flesh from her bones for the way she had treated her own flesh and blood. “I didn’t want her poisoning the pictures for you.”

“Did you notice Dad hanging around in the background of a lot of these pictures?” his Prongslet asked curiously, emerald eyes on his uncle.

“I did,” Sirius said with a heavy sigh as he sat down next to the child on the sofa. He looped an arm around his nephew’s shoulders and briefly hugged him. “I...I didn’t know that Severus was treated worse than I was,” he confessed guiltily. “Nor did I understand until recently how desperately lonely he was in school. His house shunned him because of his muggle father and we abused him because he was a Slytherin and best friends with the woman with whom James had fallen in love. If I’d known then what I know now, I would have brought him into the gang and talked James out of getting together with that bitch.

“The downside to all of that is that you never would have been born, which means that we never would have had you in our lives. I miss James very much, but his sacrifice, and the sacrifice of that poor, misused homeless muggle girl gave us you. Not the Boy Who Lived; not the Chosen One; not the Savior of the wizarding world. You. I could wish that you were with your real father from the beginning; I could wish that the incubator could have loved you. I could wish for many things, but none of them would have brought us you.

“You’ve helped us realize what’s truly important in life. You’ve shown us that blind loyalty is its own form of prison, and you helped us break free of that. You’ve welcomed the both of us with open arms, in spite of the fact that Remus and I had fled the country before your father’s body was even cold. You’ve given us the chance to raise our honorary Prongslet; to make our little family whole again.”

"When...when did you get these things of James'?" the child asked as he picked up the watch and fingered it. 

"The pictures had been collected during our time at Hogwarts," Sirius explained as he stared at the watch hand with James' name.  "The others I found in the cottage when I went back to actually take a look around at the destruction.  His watch and ring were on the bedside table in their room, and his wand had rolled under an end table in the living room."

Chapter 23

Notes:

Sakura Lisel wanted to know what Crispin and Lily spoke about before Severus interrupted, so that's here.
PriestessRayven suggested alerting Sirius and Remus about the 'lessons', so that's here too. Thank you for the ideas. Also, I've made some adjustments to the timeline. I have the kids debarking the Express for summer break in the previous chapter and I don't want the holiday to be a tiny blip this time around.

“Hey, Crispin?” Draco said quietly. He and the others were in the sitting room, working on their summer homework when a thought suddenly occurred to the blond. The brunet’s head rose, emerald eyes locking with grey as a raven brow quirked. “What did Potter say before Severus got there?” At the frown on his friend’s face, Malfoy hurriedly continued. “It took a few moments for him to get to that abandoned room, so I was wondering what she said to you before he got there.”

“I would like to know that myself,” Crispin’s dad chimed in, drawing everyone else’s attention. Sighing in resignation, the twelve year old answered.

“She asked me how my classes were going; how I was adjusting to Hogwarts,” Crispin replied, eyes closed as he recalled the meeting. “She then asked me why I wasn’t friendlier with the Weasleys or Granger; as if I was required to be an associate of theirs. She said something along the lines of ‘Headmaster Dumbledore would like you to see the Weasley family as your family. Molly would love nothing more than to provide a strong maternal influence for you’. I couldn’t help it; I sneered at her words and nearly gave away that I knew who she was, but she bulled on as if my opinion or thoughts on the matter didn’t count. ‘Those Slytherins you hang out with are nothing but bad news’, she continued, making me even angrier. What right did she have telling me who my friends should be?

“I glared something awful at her and told her ‘My friends are my business. Dumbledore is just the headmaster of my school, and holds absolutely no authority over me. Unlike some people, I don’t think he farts rainbows and shites sunshine’. She started moving closer, her hand out and some sort of object in it. She said ‘I’m so worried about your attitude and I think I need to get you away from those bad influences. I am asserting my rights as your…’ I kept backing away from her, and I was starting to get scared. ‘You are nothing to me’, I screamed at her. ‘You’re just the history professor’. She wouldn’t stop, and she said ‘Please, you must listen to me. I am your mo’ and that’s when Dad knocked her out. I’ll tell you, I’ve never been so relieved to see another adult as I was when Father barreled into the classroom and flung that stupefy at her.”

“Not as happy as I am that you didn’t let her get near you,” Severus told his son as he wrapped a comforting arm around the boy’s shoulders. Crispin leaned into his father’s side, still shivering from the incredibly close call he’d had.

“Love you, Dad,” the twelve year old whispered quietly.

“Love you, too, son.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think I’ve finally figured out why Crispin survived that night,” Tom said quietly. All of Crispin's friends were sleeping at Grimmauld as they did during the school year; Severus had taken the children out for the weekend on their routine field trip. The wizard-raised kids excitedly spent time with the older men and were learning more and more about the muggle world with every visit; they’d been taken to history museums, artifact museums, art museums and many different landmarks and historical places around the United Kingdom. Along with the educational tours were regular visits to the local cinema, where the children enjoyed so many different movies; from horror to westerns to action and adventure to fantasy. Afterward, they were able to sample a cornucopia of culinary delights; from French to Italian to Mediterranean to Asian, no cultural dining experience was ignored. Their absolute favorites, however, were the fast food restaurants, full of fat-laden fried and baked goods over which they expressed their enthusiastic enjoyment. The parents were at first skeptical, but when their kids returned from the weekend stay-overs, full of exciting discoveries and talk of the future of their world, they began to relax, accepting that this extra education should be a vital part of every magical's life.

“Lucius and I had thought it was because of your Mark,” Severus remarked thoughtfully. “We thought that the magic of my Mark transferred itself to Crispin and protected him from your attack.”

“I only wish that the Dark Mark worked that way,” Riddle said sheepishly. “No, I think Magick saw the callous sacrifice of an innocent by one of her children, and chose to protect another innocent with it. I’ve no doubt that the Mother is highly pissed off at Potter, and is watching her closely as the woman racks up her sins against the goddess. We may not have to do anything to the woman; just sit back and watch when her payment comes due.”

“That’s something to which I look forward,” Lucius remarked with a grin.

“Us, too,” Sirius agreed as he pointed at Remus and himself with a thumb. “Though I’d really like her to feel what it’s like when a werewolf exacts revenge for sins committed against pack, I don’t want Remus to end up interred in those wretched werewolf camps or Kissed.”

“You and me, both, Padfoot,” the lycan chimed in. “Potter isn’t worth the effort it would take for me to attack her. Besides, if I do that, then we’d have a huge problem trying to arrange for the other werewolves to be able to live safely and comfortably.”

“Yes,” Tom concurred with a scowl. “Revenge sounds satisfying, but not if it interferes with our ultimate goals in carving out our own space and providing sanctuary for the disenfranchised magical creatures. Now, I’ve been researching the muggles and a variety of different inventions they’ve created over the years, and I think I found something that would help us, should we have to go underground.”

“Really, uncle?” came a voice from the doorway, and the adults jumped at the sound. Turning, they spied Crispin and Draco standing there, rubbing their eyes tiredly.

“What are you two doing up and out of bed?” Severus queried worriedly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” the brunet child mumbled as he made his way over to his father, who was sitting in a very large, squashy chair. Crispin snuggled into it beside his dad and leaned against the older man, seeking comfort. Draco did the same for his papa, stretching out on the sofa on which Lucius was perched and putting his head in his father’s lap. A pale hand instantly dropped to the boy’s head and began carding through platinum locks as Draco yawned widely. “Can’t seem to get Potter’s attempted kidnapping out of my head.”

“You can stay here whilst we talk,” Severus told the boys quietly. “You might find the conversation boring enough to go to sleep.” He looked down at his son and saw the twelve year old’s eyes closed, a soft snore erupting from the child. Snorting quietly, Severus turned his attention to Riddle again, who had an affectionately fond look on his own face.

“I’ve discovered that they’ve invented what they call HEPA filters, used to cleanse the air in hospitals, doctor’s offices and other places where a lot of people gather. The machines pull the air in and push it through a carbon-fiber filter where the particulates are removed, and the clean air is recirculated through the room. I’ve decided to invest some of my fortune into a company by the name of Sylvane, who offers a wide variety of these filters for many different uses. They’ve created machines that will filter out 99.97 to 99.99% of radioactive particulates as small as 0.1 microns and smaller. It is called the Aeris Aair Med Pro, and I think that we could use these in the cave ceilings to provide a continuous stream of fresh air from the outside.

“We’ll need to create holes to the surface of the planet that will let air in, and position a couple of these machines in each opening. We’ll need to come up with a sustainable power source for each appliance, and make sure that we have a ready supply of replacement filters, which needs to be done every six to twelve months. Hazmat suits, created to wear when around radiation, will be used when our maintenance workers change out the filters. I don’t foresee anyone needing to go to the surface to make the replacements; I think that they could work from the cave side of the holes, but the suits will provide protection just in case.”

“We could create access tunnels to the filters, so that we don’t have to worry about exposing ourselves to nuclear fallout by going outside the caverns,” Lucius suggested. “We should also stagger the replacement times so that one is always operating whilst the other one is receiving maintenance. Also, because we won’t really have access to people who know how to fix these things, or the supplies necessary to effect the repairs, we should have a ready supply of the apparatus. Conversely, we could always make sure that there are a few muggleborns who take electronics and repair courses, so that they can keep any of the machines that become part of our environment running.”

“All very good ideas, and something for which we can plan as we work out the bugs,” Severus remarked, still looking at his son fondly. “Our most immediate goal is blocking Potter from isolating Crispin or any of his friends. We might have to get Dumbledore involved if it continues.”

“We’ll worry about notifying the old man if her attempts become more dangerous,” Tom told the men cautiously. “I don’t want him involved with Crispin in any way, so we’ll take care of her as we need to.”

“There’s something else I need to talk about before we call it a night,” Severus remarked, staring at the animagus and werewolf with concerned eyes. “Now that the pair of you are going to be a part of Hogwarts staff, you need to know that Albus has offered some ‘lessons’ for Crispin so that he can vanquish the big bad. As much as you can, try not to interfere while still protecting my son. We need to find out what’s behind Albus’ desire to maintain control of my boy, and hopefully these meetings will give us some answers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the hell?” Lily said as she stared at her face in the mirror. Her nose has shrunk until it was no larger than one you would see on a Barbie doll. She reached up to touch it and noticed that her hands were twice their normal size. “I’m not allergic to anything, so it can’t be that,” she mumbled as she stared at herself. Before her eyes, she watched her nose return to normal size whilst her forehead became a ten-head. She shrieked, startling Medusa as she was drowsing in her portrait. The Gorgon opened her eyes and glared angrily at Potter, but then her eyes widened comically as she took in the sight of the woman’s body changing size and shape. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, holding in the laughter she desperately wanted to release as the human’s waist expanded to the size of a hula hoop while her legs became literal toothpicks in dimension. Blinking rapidly and not believing what she was seeing, Medusa quickly and quietly fled her portrait, appearing in the one above Severus’ mantle in his personal rooms at Grimmauld.  Sirius found a jungle-themed painting in the attic, and Tom was able to link it to the portrait of Medusa that Severus had at school.

Hysterical, feminine laughter rang through the room, and Severus sprinted into his sitting room, wand out and dark eyes scanning everywhere suspiciously. He noticed that the Gorgon was in her new painting and doubled over with laughter, and he huffed in irritation. “Merlin, woman,” he barked angrily. “Don’t do that. For a moment I thought Potter had found a way into Grimmauld. I've no doubt she's trying to come up with a way to convince Sirius and Remus to be on her side.”

“I am sorry, Severus,” she managed to say between the giggles, “but I’ve just left her apartment; I couldn’t stay there much longer.”

“Why? What happened?” the Potions Master barked out, concerned.

“I don’t know who did it,” Medusa told the man as she stifled her laughter, “but someone has played a masterful prank on the woman. Her body is somehow rebelling against her. Parts are growing or shrinking indiscriminately. There’s no rhyme or reason to the expanding and contracting, and she’s in a right panic because of it.”

“I’ll have to reward a pair of redheaded demon twins tomorrow,” Snape murmured with a malicious grin. “Do you think it’ll keep her busy for a while?”

“As vain as that woman is, I don’t think she’ll show her face until she can fix it,” the snake-haired woman told Severus gleefully. “I’m going to go watch some more, and I’ll provide you with quite a show when you return to the school.”

Chapter 24

Notes:

dxinsider suggested an idea for this chapter, and I've run with it. I hope it satisfies.

I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday and blessings for the coming year. Stay safe and strong, everyone!

It was the day after Medusa’s report, and the Potions Master was out with Crispin, Draco, their core Slytherin friends and the twins. Fred and George Weasley had taken up residence with Sirius and Remus, against the demands of their overbearing mother, and were happier than they’d been for a very long time. She'd never really encouraged their creativity in any way; in fact, she used any means necessary to disparage their brilliance, and they'd had about all they could stand of the harridan's constant belittlement and criticism. Because Grimmauld was under the strictest Black family wards, no one could get into the townhouse without the permission of the current Black lord, and he wasn’t letting the banshee known as Molly Weasley invade his and his mate’s private sanctuary.

Snape was determined to reward the redheaded pair for their masterfully creative punishment for Potter, so they were exploring some muggle joke shops, to see what kinds of inspirations could be had. From places like the International Magic Shop at Farringdon and Marvin’s Magic on Regent Street to the Alakazam Magic Shop in Ashford and the Joke Shop in Farnborough, they investigated every business they could find, picking up items here and there for experimentation and possible adaptations with magic. They’d decided to go out on Thursday, to make sure that all the shops were open; some of them had odd hours on the weekend, or were closed, thus limiting the times they could visit. Severus had decided to make it a day trip, calling it a belated birthday celebration for the twins, since their birthdays, ironically on April 1, fell during the school year.

So it was that the kids were looking at a few different games in the Orc’s Nest, with Snape hanging back a bit to give them room, when he turned to look at some reproductions of vintage games that he’d played as a kid, bumping into a woman who had been passing at that moment. “Oh,” he gasped as he grabbed her elbow to steady her, “I’m terribly sorry for knocking into you like that.” He was looking down at the floor to make sure that her feet were steady under her before glancing at her face. His breath stopped for a few seconds as he stared into eyes the color of malachite in a heart shaped face of the purest peach, topped by hair as black as midnight. Her lips were full and lush, drawn up into a faint smile and it took a few moments for Severus to pick his jaw up from the floor. “I’m...I’m...” he stammered like a lovesick teenager, but was shocked when she finished his sentence for him.

“Severus Snape, youngest Potions Master to achieve the distinction,” she informed him with a saucy wink, her voice deep and husky. “I’m Selena Kyle and I am honored to finally meet you.”

“The honor is mine,” the man replied, surprise coloring his voice. “To meet the youngest recognized alchemist since Nicholas Flamel is truly a treat, and so beautiful, too.” Selena blushed, suddenly shy as her eyes dropped to her toes.

“Thank you, Lord Prince,” she murmured, shifting from foot to foot nervously. At his look of surprise, she grinned widely. “Your mother, Eileen Prince, was very well known, even though she wasn't able to get her mastery before her untimely death. I am very sorry for the way that you lost her, but I am glad that her gifts were passed on to such a distinguished, handsome man. I was wondering if I might prevail upon you for dinner tonight. I’m an admirer of yours, and I’ve always wanted to meet you, and perhaps pick your brain a little.”

“Who’s this, Dad?” came a young voice from behind the tall man, startling him out of his conversation. He turned with a smile and pulled the boy forward, turning to the woman, an expression of pride on his face.

“This is my son, Crispin Severus Snape,” he told her, voice full of love. “This is Selena Kyle, youngest alchemy master to achieve the distinction in over six hundred years,” he introduced her to his son. “She was just inviting us out to dinner.” Emerald eyes met aquamarine and they sized each other up for several long, silent seconds before Crispin’s face brightened happily.

“I don’t mind, Dad,” he replied cheerfully. “I think she’d be perfect for you.” With that bombshell dropped, Crispin went back to his friends and put his dad’s date out of his mind. Snape flushed with embarrassment, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Out of the mouths of babes,” Selena murmured with a wry grin. “Anyway, how about we get takeout from Café Murano. I know they serve excellent Italian cuisine, and they have a kid’s menu. We can get enough for your gang, and afterward, when everyone else is in bed, we can take a walk along the river and get to know one another better.”

“Thank you for including my son and his friends on our date,” Snape agreed with a grin. “Crispin’s godfathers will be there too, so it won’t be like we’d be the only adults in the room. I’m curious; why would you be willing to throw yourself in the midst of a gaggle of children this quickly?”

“Well, I’ve followed your career for a number of years, and have been quite impressed with the innovations you’ve made on many of our standard potions,” she replied with a small smile, causing the Potions Master’s heart to beat triple time. “I think it’s kismet that we met in this place, at this time, and I’m not one to turn my back on Fate’s gifts. I’ll need to get to know your son, and he will want the same of me, so we might as well kill two birds with one stone. Besides, I happen to love children, and can’t think of anything more enjoyable than listening to the fascinating conversations kids have.”

“Fair enough,” Snape responded happily. “Would you like to join us on our venture? The redheaded twins have done something that deserves a reward, so we’ve been shopping for things with which to amuse them. If it wouldn’t be too much of a hardship, I’d like it if you could spend the rest of the day with us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was much laughter and camaraderie at the table that night as Severus, Sirius, Remus and Tom entertained Snape's potential paramour. The afternoon went very successfully; every now and then Draco or Crispin would grill Selena, to get her thoughts on a variety of topics. Astonishingly enough, her beliefs closely mirrored those of everyone involved with the Dark Lord and his plans, and at one point, whilst the young woman was discussing pranks with Fred and George, Crispin had pulled his father down and whispered, “She’s perfect. Don’t let her go.” Once they got home, Sirius and Remus went to the restaurant and picked up everything they needed for dinner; Crispin and Draco went along to pick out the food from the kid’s menu. Once the meals were prepared and paid for, the quartet returned to Grimmauld, holding the carryout bags aloft and calling everyone down to supper.

“She’s a keeper, Severus,” Sirius murmured in the Potions Master’s ear at one point; Remus had distracted her with questions about alchemy and how the right formula might affect lycanthropy, which gave the animagus the opportunity to talk to his pup’s father. “She and Crispin seem to get on really well, and she doesn’t appear to care about the fact that Voldemort is in the same room as the rest of us. All of us are hoping that she’ll be able to erase the stain that James’ bitch left behind.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Voldemort doesn’t seem to be the maddened psychopath that the wizarding world was led to believe he was,” she commented idly. They were walking along the Thames, the moonlight reflecting on the water and the distant buildings looking like a child’s model landscape. “I believe that you are going in the right direction, and I have quite a few associates that would be more than willing to help things along.”

“Albus Dumbledore is responsible for the lies that have been bandied about concerning Tom and his goals,” Snape snarled angrily, startling the woman with his vehement defense of the Dark Lord. “The old man wanted a war to start, so that he could have someone against whom to fight and build up his waning popularity and importance. It’s because of that interfering old bastard that our neck of the wizarding world is so backward.”

“You don’t sound like you care too much for the headmaster,” Selena posited quietly. “Why do you still work at the school? After all, with your skills and intelligence, you’d be welcome no matter where you went.”

“Thank you,” Severus replied with a blush and a smile. “As you know, I am a Death Eater.” At Kyle’s nod, he continued. “An alleged prophecy proclaiming the end of the Dark by a single child was leaked out. I was meant to overhear it and I told the Dark Lord, who was encouraged to believe it meant James Potter’s son. After the attack on Godric’s Hollow, I went to Albus and pledged to take care of the only survivor. He used my love for the child’s mother to coerce me into giving a vow of protection for the boy. He also threatened to take away his ‘guardianship’ if I didn’t do as I was told. He’d spoken up for me at the trials, you see, and I was able to avoid Azkaban. So, I got locked into a contract to teach, so that he could keep an eye on his pet Death Eater.”

“Ah,” the raven haired beauty sighed understandingly. “I am sorry that he was able to trap you so cleanly.” At Severus’ nod of acceptance, she continued. “Where is Crispin’s mother, by the way?”

“That’s...a more difficult tale to tell,” the Potions Master answered with a wince. “Whilst I was in school, I had a massive crush on Lily Evans, who eventually became Lily Potter. I’d met her before we went to Hogwarts, and she was the only person to treat me with anything more than abuse or disdain, so I latched onto her rather desperately. Once in school, James Potter and his psychotic buddies proceeded to abuse me relentlessly, simply because Lily preferred my company over Potter’s. Eventually she and I parted ways, although I still loved her rather desperately.

“They married, and when that sham of a prophecy was spoken, Dumbledore hid them away in his cottage in the Hollow. She came to me one night, desperate for company other than Potter’s and we sat and drank and commiserated with each other. She’d attempted to make advances toward me, which I spurned. I never have, nor will I ever espouse adultery, even though I still loved her very much. Well, she got me drunk and we...fornicated, for lack of a better term. She disappeared and left me to sober up on my own. Unfortunately, I didn’t remember the night’s activities, and put her visit out of my mind, as it was too painful to remember her nearness like that.

“She had her child and the attack happened, naming her son as the Boy Who Lived. Six years after the boy’s birth, I received a letter from Lily, that was forwarded by the squib that was put in the Potter child’s neighborhood to keep an eye on him. In it, Lily accused me of raping her in front of the Dark Lord, which resulted in the pregnancy. That, of course, never happened; Tom might be many things, but a sadistic voyeur with rape fantasies isn't one of them. She found out the child wasn’t James’ at a well-baby visit. That was how I discovered I had a son. Lucius and I immediately went to retrieve him and I had custody turned over to me.”

“I am sorry, Severus,” Selena whispered, arm looping around the man’s waist and giving him a hug. “I had no idea that the child’s mother had died.”

“That’s the really fucked up part of this,” the man snarled angrily. “She’s not dead. She polyjuiced a homeless girl to look like her and imperioed the poor waif to take the bitch’s place, so it was James Potter and some unknown girl who died that night. Then, she just stood by as my son was abandoned on the doorstep of her wretched, abusive sister. She decided to return just before Crispin was to attend Hogwarts, to try and weasel her way back into my life. After everything I’d learned about her from her own personal diary, I was repulsed by the idea that she still wanted me.

“She’s in the school now, acting as a teacher so that she could try and convince my son to allow her to get close to me again. Since Crispin knows who she is, and has been stubbornly resistant to her efforts to get close to me through him, she’s been plotting to take him out of the way, thinking that I’d have anything to do with her if my son was no longer in the picture.”

“Merlin, Severus,” Selena gasped, a look of intense revulsion on her face, “how could any mother do that to her own child?”

“Unfortunately, it happens far too often in the muggle world,” the Potions Master replied tiredly. “Parents frequently peddle their children to hang onto their spouses. It happens more with women than it does with men, but it’s a sad fact of life. I’m sure that there are some in the wizarding world that do the same, and call it a time-honored family tradition.”

Chapter 25

“Lily, I wanted to run something by you for this coming school term,” Albus said as he stepped into her personal rooms. Because of his enormous ego and blatant narcissistic tendencies, privacy and personal space were nonexistent for the old man, and it wasn’t odd for him to barge into any room in the castle he wanted, with the exception of the house common rooms and dorm rooms. Several times through the centuries, rather foul headmasters and headmistresses, as well as more than a few professors, invaded the students’ rooms to do whatever they felt like to their charges, which led to the castle putting up permanent wards to protect the innocents within her walls. The spirit of Hogwarts was deeply offended at the behavior of some of her adult employees, so she worked hard to absorb as much of the ambient magic as she could, as quickly as possible, in order to shield her little ones from those with nefarious intentions. It was only through connecting with the individual professors' magic that they were permitted by the magical soul of the school to enter the children’s domain unaccompanied and unimpeded.

Dumbledore stopped dead at the sight of his history of magic professor. Her feet were the size of canoes and sat at the end of legs shaped like tree branches without the bark. Her arms had become stick-like, with paddle shaped hands at the ends of them. Her body was an exaggerated hourglass and her head, the size and shape of a watermelon, sat atop a neck that looked as wide around as a barrel. “What in Merlin’s name is going on with you?” he barked out, stunned stupid at the sight.

“I don’t know,” she whined, voice high-pitched and reedy. “My body has been morphing like this since the end of the school year, and I don’t know how to stop it.”

“Ah,” the old geezer replied as he fought not to laugh at the woman. “I believe a pair of redheaded Gryffindor menaces may be responsible for this. I’ll have a chat with Molly in a bit. Right now, I want to talk over an idea I have to get Harry to be more amenable to us. I’m going to start mixing the houses together in the classes more fully. I’ll assign certain students from every house in the same class so that I can have Ron and Hermione get closer to Harry. You need to encourage it by assigning them team projects that they would have to complete together. Of course, I’ll make sure that the Malfoy brat will be in an entirely different class, and that none of the Slytherins Harry’s friendly with have the same class, either. I might be able to convince the other professors to have Harry pair up with Weasley and Granger; however, I don’t think it’ll work with Severus. I’ll need to take a different approach with him.”

“If you can get this magic off of me, I’ll do whatever you need,” she agreed quickly, hoping that her torture would soon end.

“Excellent,” the headmaster sighed happily. “I’ll floo Molly as soon as I return to my office. You should be back to normal in no time at all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He tossed the floo powder into the fireplace and stuck his head in the firebox as soon as the flames had turned green. “Molly Weasley, the Burrow,” he barked out, waiting rather impatiently for the woman to answer.

“Albus,” Mrs. Weasley yelped in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting your call. What may I do for you?”

“Hello, Molly,” the old man replied fondly, a kind, grandfatherly smile on his face and eyes a-twinkling. “Regrettably, I need you to corral the twins and have them come to the school as soon as possible.”

“Oh, dear,” she murmured fretfully, hands twisting up in a dishtowel she was holding. “What have they done now?”

“I’m afraid that they pulled a rather tricky end of year prank on our new History of Magic professor, and it hasn’t yet dissipated. I’ll need you to send them along quickly and undo the magic they’d cast so that she doesn’t suffer any long-term after effects from the spells.”

“I’ll send them to you right away,” the redhead agreed. Before Albus could close off the floo, her banshee shriek of, “FREDERICK GIDEON WEASLEY! GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY! GET YOUR ARSES DOWN HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE!” echoed up the chimney, bouncing off of the flapper and vibrating painfully through the headmaster’s already aching skull. Dumbledore quickly shut the floo as the echoes of the woman’s voice bounced off the walls in his office.

“Merlin,” he muttered as he shook his head to stop the ringing in his ears, “that woman has a set of lungs on her. At least the problem with Lily will be sorted out quickly. With her working to keep Harry close to Ronald and Hermione, I can have them pull him away from the Slytherins and Severus. If I can get the boy’s custody arrangements vacated, I can return him to the Dursleys, where he’ll receive the proper training to be obedient and eager to please.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Fenrir will be here shortly,” Tom said as he and the kids settled in the large salon at Malfoy Manor. Crispin’s friends were as close as family to the child, and with their involvement in the magicals’ future move to their own land, they had the potential to become the next level of leaders to take over when Tom and his Inner Circle were ready to hand over the reins. “I asked him to come today to talk to you about the duties you’ll need to assume once you’re recognized as the Alpha of the werewolf nation.”

“All right, Tom,” the raven haired preteen replied with a nod and a smile. “It’ll also give me a chance to talk to him about some of his activities.” Before the eleven year old could say anything else, a house elf popped in to notify them that a visitor had arrived.

“Bring him here, Bas,” Lucius requested quietly. Nodding, the head house elf popped away, and it was a few moments before Greyback was led into the room. He bowed deeply to Riddle and took the seat indicated. “You are here because there are some things that need to be discussed,” the blond continued, grey eyes on the werewolf thoughtfully. Sirius and Remus were conspicuously absent; Remus was still not comfortable meeting the man who had turned him as a child, and he was waiting to see what Crispin had to say about it before passing final judgment.

“This is Crispin Severus Snape,” the elder Malfoy continued, gesturing to the emerald eyed boy briefly. “We won’t get into particulars right now; suffice it to say that he’d been given some information that says that he’s to be the Alpha of the entire werewolf population. Now, before you get all bent out of shape, release the hold you have on your wolfish instincts and feel for yourself.” Fenrir, who had opened his mouth to, no doubt, assert his dominance, snapped his teeth shut with a loud click, narrowed his eyes and stared at the child challengingly. Crispin could feel the feral magic pressing against him and he sat up taller, meeting the older man’s eyes without fear. His father, Lucius and Tom were there to make sure that nothing happened to him, and he had absolute trust in their protectiveness of him.

“Well, I’ll be,” the lycan murmured, amber eyes wide with shock. “You’re the prophesied one; the one sent to free all magical creatures. The centaurs had set down, centuries ago, a prognostication foretelling of a wizard that would be born who would unite all magicals; human, creature and hybrid, and give us a safe place to live and thrive without fear of the muggles discovering us. I am most honored to serve you, Alpha.”

“Thank you, Fenrir,” the child replied softly as he sagged with relief, a small smile on his face. “I’ve already named Remus Lupin as my Beta and my right-hand man, but I sense that you have a more...aggressive role in the pack hierarchy. I name you Zeta; our war general and leader of the armies that will be necessary for us to obtain and hold the lands for our people. You are in charge of keeping the packs in line and answer only to me or my Beta. You will even have charge over the human warriors, as well as the other creatures and hybrids that go to battle on behalf of our nation.

“Those gathered here today are the permanent council for our civilization,” he continued, looking at everyone with a grin. “These people in this room are the ones that will be in charge of various segments of our government and society.” Greyback looked with great skepticism at the other children in the group, and Crispin frowned severely at the werewolf. He flinched back at the disapproval radiating from his Alpha and ducked his head, baring his throat in submission. Nodding, the child continued. “Don’t discount them because of their age. We all have been meeting for a year, hashing out everything we need to succeed as an independent nation. My friends have contributed many different ideas that will see us succeed, once we’ve made our final move.

“Now, having said all that, I have a few questions for you, Fenrir.” The werewolf nodded eagerly, wanting to please his Alpha in any way he could. “Why did you turn Remus Lupin so young, and why do you turn children at all? Do you get some sort of thrill out of it?”

“Is that what Albus Dumbledore has been telling everyone?” Greyback asked incredulously.

“Pretty much,” Draco remarked cautiously. “He’s been spreading around that you turn children because you’re more animal than man, and you think infecting children and destroying families is great fun.”

“That sick, mentally diseased, lying sack of hippogriff shite,” the werewolf murmured angrily. “When I get my hands on him… To answer your question, no, I don’t get some sort of psychotic thrill out of changing children. Many of the kids I infect, including Lupin, are diagnosed with a terminal disease. Be it cancer, leukemia, cystic fibrosis, sickle cell disease or Huntington’s disease, the parents spend thousands of dollars on treatment with a very low chance of a cure. Even though we have magic, and can cure a great many things with our potions and restoratives, we can’t fix these genetic illnesses, because we don’t know enough about them to experiment adequately. One of the hidden benefits to lycanthropy is that it heals the body, getting rid of the diseases that create the infirmity.

“Yes, being a werewolf has many drawbacks, not the least of which is being shunned from society. But if what you’re planning is real, and things really will be better for creatures and human/creature hybrids, then a lot of the negatives about being a werewolf will be mitigated, and those children who’d suffered from, and will suffer from some sort of genetic disorder that could shorten their life or make surviving unbearable won’t be as bad as they are now.”

“So, what you’ve been doing is saving these children’s lives?” Pansy clarified softly. At the lycan’s nod, she said, “As long as it’s done with the parents’ permission, and they understand some of the risks involved with the turning, I don’t see a problem with continuing the ‘treatment’ until we’re able to come up with something that will cure the illnesses without causing such drastic changes in the person’s physical and psychological makeup.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on kids that are being abused, also,” Fenrir told them sadly. “I’ll watch a child and his family for a couple of weeks and gather evidence. When I have enough, I give it to the local constabulary, anonymously of course, and make sure that something is done to save the child from a brutal, ugly future. It doesn’t always work and sometimes the child’s left with the abusers, but I do what I can to protect as many as I can. My interference has resulted in a rare death of a child, and it eats me up inside with guilt that my meddling has caused that, but I can’t predict how the parents and caretakers would respond, and if I can save at least one child from that, I’ve done my job.”

“You’ll keep doing that,” Crispin told the werewolf gently. “The magical children are to be taken from their homes and brought to the magical world, where we can find suitable homes for them.” He turned to the elder Malfoy, determination on his face. “Make sure that there’s a department in the Ministry that can handle this. We need to make those kids disappear completely from the muggle world, using whatever means necessary.”

“It will be done.”

Chapter 26

“FRED! GEORGE!” she bellowed again, tapping her foot impatiently. “Where the hell could those ruddy boys be?”

“Molly? Is there a problem?” came a voice from behind her and she jumped into the air, shrieking as she spun and stared at her husband. Arthur fought to contain the laughter he wanted to let loose, enjoying his wife’s fright a little too much. It was nearly impossible to catch the woman unawares, and every one of the Weasleys relished the feeling when they were able to surprise her. Huffing for a few moments and hand pressed to her frantically beating heart, it took several minutes for her to gather her scattered wits.

“I’m trying to call the twins, but they’re not responding,” she finally barked, scowling at the amusement she could still see in her husband’s eyes.

“Erm, about that,” their patriarch mumbled as he ran his hands through his hair a few times. “They’ve...they’ve moved in with Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black.”

“WHAT?!” she shrieked, making her spouse wince in pain as his ears started to ring. “When I get my hands on those two…”

“I told them that they could move in with the pair,” Arthur announced firmly as he finally decided enough was enough. At her look of betrayal, he continued, spilling a few harsh truths to get the woman to understand. “You’ve done nothing but belittle and deride their every effort to make a name and a place for themselves in this world. Our boys are brilliant at what they do, and they’ll bring much needed laughter and enjoyment to the wizarding world. The Fates had them born on April Fool’s day for a reason, and I’ll not let anyone else stand in their way.

“You, as their mother, should be proud of what they have accomplished, and just so you know, they already have a dozen investors lined up to back their joke shop. They’ve also been approached by the DMLE, who have commissioned them to make weapons and protections for the Auror department. They’re set to take the whole wizarding world by storm, and you could be a part of that success, if only you’d lighten up and see that what they’re doing is a valuable and necessary contribution to our world. Severus Snape is ensuring that they achieve their OWLs and NEWTs. He’s very proud of what they can do, and has been teaching them how to experiment more safely. For Merlin’s sake, they have the youngest Potions Master ever in their corner! It can’t get any better than that!”

“I...I didn’t realize that I was stifling them so much,” Molly replied, voice shaking slightly. “I’ve only ever wanted them to be successful, and if this is the way that they can achieve that, I won’t stand in their way.”

“Good,” the Weasley patriarch agreed with a fond smile. “Just think, between their success after they graduate, Charlie and his work with the dragons and Bill working at Gringotts, we’ll be well cared for in our golden years. Speaking of, I’m surprised that you haven’t wondered how we’ve kept afloat these last several years. I’ll let you in on a little secret; Bill and Charlie had opened up a vault for us that they deposit one hundred fifty galleons into each week.

“They started it when they first became employed, and Bill has one of his supervisors investing the income. I stay away from it as much as I can, and last I heard, we have upwards of two hundred thousand galleons in it.” Molly’s brown eyes lit up with glee, thinking of all the things she’d wanted to buy over the years, but knew they couldn’t afford. Arthur dashed her fantasies with a figurative bucket of ice cold water. “No, Molly. I’m the only one who has access to it, and I want it to grow a little while longer before we start dipping into it. We’ll sit down this weekend and outline a couple of lists. One will be necessities; things we absolutely must take care of right away. The other will be a wish list of sorts, where you can jot down the things that, while not completely crucial, would make our lives a little easier.

“We’re not spending willy-nilly, either,” he continued sternly, and Molly found herself flushing at the stern, take-charge attitude her husband was showing, becoming aroused at this stronger, tougher Arthur Weasley. The man noticed the slight blush to her cheeks and had to fight not to grin in triumph as he continued. “We’ll make repairs, replacements and purchases slowly over the next few years so that we don’t end up depleting the funds in the vault before I decide to retire from the Ministry. As long as Mulgarath Stonecrusher, our accounts goblin, continues to invest wisely, we’ll not have any need for the boys to take care of us in our golden years. In fact, at the first of next year, I’m going to ask Charlie and Bill to stop adding to the vault, since we won’t need their contributions to make the money grow anymore. Now, why were you screaming for the twins?”

“Oh, yes,” she called her brain back from planet lust and focused on her husband again, “Albus fire called to inform me that Fred and George had played some sort of prank on the history of magic professor, and he’d like them to come by the school and end it.”

“Why don’t you give Sirius a call and explain the situation,” Arthur suggested with a grin as he stood and made his way to the stairs. “When you’re finished, I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom.” He sauntered up the stairs, whistling a jaunty tune and with a smug smile curling his lips, which made him look like a scoundrel. Fanning herself quickly, she made her way to the floo and tossed powder into it. Waiting impatiently for the flames to turn green and dancing from foot to foot, she stuck her head into the firebox and barked out, “Sirius Black, Grimmauld Place.” It was a few seconds longer before the animagus entered the drawing room, brows fleeing into his hairline in surprise at who was calling him.

“Molly!” he yelped loudly, cluing the other residents in to who was in the floo, “what has you calling?”

“I need you to tell Fred and George that they’re to go to Hogwarts and release the prank from professor Carrion,” she reported matter-of-factly. “There’s a good boy,” she said absently as she shut the floo, leaving a stunned animagus to stare at the merrily burning flames, flummoxed.

“What was that all about?” Remus asked as he came into the room, followed by the kids, Severus and Tom.

“She wanted me to tell her sons to take the prank off of Lily,” the werewolf’s mate murmured rather absently. “She seemed rather distracted; dancing from foot to foot like she had ants in her pants.”

“Well, you heard her, boys,” Lupin-Black said as he turned to the twin menaces. “You’ll need to take that spell off of Potter before we return for the boys’ second year.”

“We’ll get right on it,” Fred agreed with a sly smile.

“I think August thirty-first should be soon enough,” George agreed with a malicious twinkle in his blue eyes. They departed the room to the laughter of everyone else. Calming, Severus’ brow furrowed for a moment as he pondered the request.

“I wonder who contacted her with the demand,” he murmured softly, mind on who might have been in the castle and had seen her. Medusa informed Snape that Lily never left her rooms; too embarrassed to show her face to the remaining teachers, ghosts, portraits and house elves. “The only professors who stayed are Minerva, Filius and Albus. I know that Minerva won’t talk to the woman; she seems to have some sort of dislike for her. Filius knows who she is and would most likely curse her as talk to her.”

“Albus has something up his garishly colored sleeve,” Tom remarked with a growl. “He would be the only one to contact Molly Weasley since no one else wants to listen to her caterwauling.”

“We’ll have to let the others know when school is back in session, so that they can keep an eye on our cub,” Remus added, his own eyes bleeding amber for a moment. “We’ll also need to keep her from joining Crispin during his ‘lessons’ with the headmaster.”

“We’ll take care of that,” the twins called simultaneously from the stairs. “Leave it to us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius Black

Number 12, Grimmauld Place

Claremont Square, Islington

London N1 9LX, UK

 

My dear boy,

I am looking forward to seeing both you and your friend, Remus Lupin, once again wandering the halls of Hogwarts. I do believe the old girl has missed the both of you. Enclosed, you will find the syllabi that I believe would be suitable to teach the students without guiding them toward the Dark forces that threaten our way of life. Voldemort hides in the shadows, pulling the strings of those Dark witches and wizards who sit on the Wizengamot and decide our fates every day; passing laws that would see us crumble under the weight of their evil.

Harry Potter is vital to the sanctity of the wizarding world. He is the shining beacon of Light behind whom all should follow to secure our safety and our way of life. You must do all you can to ensure that he not stray from his path of righteous salvation for the wizarding world. It is our magic-sworn destiny to accept, and be accepted by the muggles that live outside our insular world. We have lived apart from them for far too long; it’s time that we drop the wards that surround us and welcome them with open arms. Once they see our might and power, they will look upon us as the gods we were meant to be.

I must insist, dear boy, that you allow me to mentor Harry Potter; to guide him toward his exalted destiny as Savior of the wizarding world. I have so much to teach him, and I look to you to run interference between that child and Severus Snape. Somehow, that Death Eater has convinced the boy that he is not James Potter’s son, and I need you to correct his thinking by any means necessary. I know that you have access to a great many books on questionable rituals that we might use to convince Harry to fulfill his destiny as Magic had set down for him. Remember, I am quite aware of the Darker curses and spells both you and Lupin used during the last war. I also know that you and James had performed a Dark, illegal bit of blood magic when you swore to be blood brothers after your break with your family.

I have collected some evidence from Godric’s Hollow that will paint you in a bad light, should it be revealed. It would be enough to prevent you from ever seeing Harry again. Keep that in mind, should you try to work against me in securing the unwavering loyalty of Harry Potter and the eradication of the Dark. Your friend Lupin’s ‘furry little problem’ has also, until now, been kept secret. Malfoy might have gotten rid of the restrictions against creatures, but he hasn’t gotten rid of the fear. One word in the right ear, and Remus may find himself collared and restricted to a werewolf pen somewhere far, far away from here.

Sincerely,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Chief Warlock, Wizengamot

Supreme Mugwump, ICW

Grand Sorcerer

“Un-fucking-believable!” the animagus bellowed, startling every occupant of the townhouse. They all came running from various rooms and down the stairs, wands out and scanning for whatever had upset the man.

“Padfoot?” Crispin murmured warily as he slowly approached the seething man. “Is everything all right?”

Sucking in a deep breath to calm himself, he thrust the letter at Severus and Tom, grey eyes darkened in his anger. “Dumbledore just threatened Moony and I,” he said angrily. “He intends to use our actions during the war and Remus’ lycanthropy to get us to allow him to ‘mentor’ Crispin. He still calls our pup ‘Harry’ and refuses to acknowledge the truth, in spite of Potter’s presence in the school.” Snape and Riddle had finished perusing the letter, and it took all the Potions Master had in him not to storm the castle and slowly and painfully dismember the old man. Tom had to be physically restrained by all the kids as they wrapped him in a ball of hugs, trying to get him to calm down.

“He cannot do anything to either one of you,” Lucius said as he dusted himself off. Draco had floo called his father to come over and discuss the situation before someone actually earned a protracted stay in Azkaban. “There were exceptions put into the laws regarding the Unforgivables because it was during a war, and Dumbledore, himself, refused to report that ghastly attempted murder in your fifth year. If he tries to do anything to you, Remus, because of that one single act, he’ll be facing charges of accessory to attempted murder, interfering with a DMLE investigation, and any other crime I can pin on him for it.

“As for the alleged blood brother ritual, James Potter isn’t here to testify to it, nor did he put anything in writing. Albus only has hearsay evidence of the supposed crime, and if he tries to press it, he’ll be laughed out of court. If we outlaw things like using blood to welcome others into our families as a Friend of the Line, then we’d have to outlaw blood adoptions as well, and deny orphans the opportunity for a family of their own. I’m sure that Dumbledore doesn’t want to destroy his reputation as a leader of the Light, and attacking some of our favored blood rituals will do just that.”

Chapter 27

“Hey, uncle Tom?” Crispin said quietly as he stepped into the man’s office. They were at Malfoy Manor; it was mid-July and everyone was getting things ready for Crispin’s birthday party on the thirty-first. The party was to celebrate both Crispin’s day and Draco’s, which was on the fifth of June. Being in school, and with other things occupying them during their weekend visits, everyone simply forgot about the blond’s special day. The Malfoy heir didn’t mind, though; he was just as happy to celebrate it with his best friend as the Snape heir was to celebrate with Draco.

“What’s up, kid?” his godfather replied with a grin.

“I just remembered that Draco and I collected something for you,” the boy answered with a sheepish grin. “We’d been so busy planning our exodus and getting to know Dad’s new girlfriend that we completely forgot about it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a reddish stone, setting it in the middle of the desktop. Ruby eyes widened in stunned surprise as Riddle stared at the unexpected boon.

“Is that…?” he said, voice trailing off.

“It is,” the raven haired eleven year old told his godfather with a grin. “Weasley and his cohorts were talking about the item hidden in the bowels of the school that the headmaster was trying to protect, and the few snippets of real information that they’d dropped had my friends and I doing research. We found out that the old man had apprenticed with Nicholas Flamel, the alchemist, and that Flamel was able to create the Philosopher’s stone. Back issues of the Prophet revealed the blurb about the attempted robbery in Gringotts near the beginning of August last year, and we put two and two together, along with their chatter about conversations with that half-giant, and figured out what was hidden beneath the trap door in that third floor room.

“We knew that the professors, who had set up the obstacle course, didn’t need to go through the trap door to do it, so we spent some time exploring the alcoves, closets and cubbies until we found the hidden door that led down to the course. We came out at the end, in the room where the stone was hidden, and after dancing around a really big magical mirror for a bit, we were finally able to retrieve the stone.”

“Why didn’t you ask your dad, since he was responsible for one of the tasks?” Riddle queried with a frown. “It would have made things easier for you.”

“You know what?” Crispin answered with a self-deprecating grin, “That didn’t even occur to us. We were so focused on finding the stone that asking Dad for help completely escaped our consideration. I’m sure that he would have been rather reluctant to let us explore on our own, so I’m kind of glad that I didn’t think of asking him.”

Tom reached forward with a conceding nod, picked it up and took a closer look at it. There was something a little off about the magic surrounding the stone, and he pulled his wand and cast a few detection spells. Smirking, he moved his wand in a figure eight pattern with a swirl at the end of the last oval, incanting, “Verum forma ejus revelare.” It shimmered for a moment before turning into a rather lovely piece of quartz.

“What the hell?” Crispin barked incredulously. “How did you know it was a fake?”

“I only felt one magical signature surrounding the rock, and it wasn’t Flamel’s,” his godfather replied with a wry grin. “I spent some time with the Flamels when I first started on my whirlwind tour of the wider magical world, and the feel of Nicholas’ magic was like bathing in an icy mountain stream. It felt pure and clean, and Dumbledore’s has always felt a little greasy to me. That’s the feeling I was getting around the fake stone, so I figured to take off the transfiguration and see what we had.”

“Is it even magical?” his godson asked curiously.

“Not in the least,” the older man told the boy with a snort of amusement. “It’s pretty enough with which to create some jewelry, however.” He handed it to the preteen, who grinned and darted from the office. Severus stepped from behind the curtains framing the large floor to ceiling windows behind the desk, watching as his son moved down the hallway, no doubt to grab Draco and discuss what they’d gone through and their ‘reward’ at the end of the task. He rounded the desk and sat in the leather chair situated before it, looking at Tom with a quirked brow and a small smile.

“What do you suppose happened to the original stone?” Snape queried with a small frown.

“I’ve no doubt that Albus has it squirreled away in some secret alcove in his office or his quarters,” the Dark Lord replied with a shrug. “We can arrange for Sirius and Remus to provide a distraction, and I can use my animagus form to search the headmaster’s tower and see if I can find it. If we’re lucky, I can bring it home and notify Nicholas and Perenelle that I’ve retrieved it, and we can save my memories of the recovery for later.”

“We are going to use this to tarnish that old man’s image,” the Potions Master intoned with amusement.

“Of course,” Riddle told his friend with a snort of laughter. “The more we have that can show that old fossil’s mental infirmity, the quicker we can get him out of Hogwarts.”

“He’s got something planned for Crispin this coming school term,” Severus said after a few moments of thought. “Phineas said that he’s plotting to give the Weasley girl a cursed diary so that she’ll write in it. He’s going to have someone polyjuiced as Lucius start a dust-up in Flourish and Blotts, and when the impostor knocks the girl’s books out of her hands, he’ll slip the diary into her possession. You told me that Dumbledore knows where the Chamber of Secrets is because of the accidental death of Myrtle Warren. I think he wants to somehow encourage my son to ‘rescue’ girl Weasley after the enchantments on the book take hold of her.”

“Only a parselmouth can get into the Chamber,” Tom reassured the potions professor. “Unless Albus has somehow recorded me talking to the basilisk or Slytherin’s portrait, he has no way to open the chamber and get the girl down there. Besides, even if he has somehow copied the Founder and I speaking to each other, he has no idea what the hissing means without someone there to translate for him. I know Salazar won’t give the old man the time of day, and since I’m ‘vanquished’ right now, he can’t get to me, either. It’s a good thing that the scar that was on your son’s forehead has faded with treatment, or Dumbledore would be using that to push the savior narrative.”

“He still tries, but whenever someone asks Crispin about the scar, he lifts his bangs and shows off an unblemished forehead,” Snape told his friend with a grin. “The nosy busybodies move on, looking very confused. Some of them have been informing their friends and gossip buddies that there is no savior; that Dumbledore seems to want this war he’s been rabbiting on about.”

“That’s good to know,” Riddle stated, slightly relieved. “Now all we need to do is encourage that train of thought enough that people will start to question the Chief Warlock’s motives in trying to disturb the peace we’ve enjoyed these last eleven years. With continuous gentle nudges, we can get them to see the dangers of remaining amongst the muggle population, and perhaps we’ll have more people than expected moving to our own lands with us.”

“I think putting out feelers right now and getting some much needed researchers in place should be our first step,” the dour man remarked with an agreeable nod. “Start the ball rolling so that, along with the squibs and muggleborns in the muggle world, they can keep a look out for suitable territory as well as start infiltrating those governmental agencies in which we need eyes and ears.”

“I’ll have some of my people get right on that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We have a problem,” Sirius said as soon as Tom, Lucius and Severus stepped out of the floo. It was the usual weekend get-together at Grimmauld, with the raven haired boy’s birthday just a week away. The party would be held at his uncle Sirius’ house, so Draco and Crispin were first out and hied off to hang out with their friends whilst the adults talked. “I know that you worked on the blood brother problem, Lucius, but there’s more that we haven’t told anyone.” The men made their way to the library, where everyone sat around a small conference table. The kids knew that they weren’t allowed in that room until they were older and had become stronger in their magic, so the adults felt they were safe to talk about whatever had the animagus and werewolf worried.

“In the first war, James, Remus and I were part of Albus’ Order of the Phoenix. We joined at the tail end of things, before your confrontation with the Potters at Godric’s Hollow, Tom. There were some...issues with some of the members and Albus wanted Remus and I to ‘take care of the problems’ before they destroyed the Order’s reputation. We more or less became assassins for him, to make sure that his sycophants were lily white and pure of spirit.

“The first assignment was the Prewett twins,” the animagus continued shamefully. “Albus found out that they were addicted to some rather Dark experimental potions. Where they got them, none of us ever knew, but those elixirs are still out there, harming the wizarding populace. Anyway, due to the addictions, Fabian and Gideon became reckless and dangerous. They would go out in the middle of the night and attack the residents of Knockturn Alley. They wore magical disguises when they did it, but sometimes a flash of red hair or a freckled arm would be exposed and people would start to complain to the Ministry about the assailants. They’d point fingers, but of course the DMLE didn’t listen to the complainants. Dumbledore made sure that no one would believe that the Weasleys were anything but Light. Albus told us that it would only be a matter of time before the wrong person caught sight of them, so he asked us to kill the Prewett twins.”

“Our next target was Caradoc Dearborn,” Remus picked up the narrative, giving Sirius time to deal with the guilt. They never told Molly what really happened or why; Albus just blamed Voldemort’s forces and everyone fell into line with the story. “Though Albus is soft on child abuse when it comes to the muggleborns in school, he was rather vocal when it came to the members of the Order. Dearborn had been caught more than once beating the shite out of his four year old son and six year old daughter. Lainie Dearborn was no longer in the picture; his temper had gotten the best of him one night and he’d beaten her to death. Albus covered it up, of course, by saying that she’d been tortured by the Lestranges before she died.

“Knowing what Rodolphus and Rabastan were like at the time, it was easy for everyone to believe that she’d run afoul of those vicious Death Eaters. That her ‘torture’ was a way to encourage Dearborn to withdraw from the Order, and convince others to do the same. Dumbledore has always had a particular talent with spinning believable tales. After all, he did it quite skillfully when I almost killed Severus in our fifth year. Knowing that Dearborn had some allies in the Wizengamot, Albus thought the best way to handle the problem before it became public was for us to kill him and, once again, pin it on the Death Eaters. Our last assignment was Dorcas Meadowes.”

“She was a real piece of work,” Sirius said, taking over the story once again. “None of us knew that she was a psychopath. She was remarkably personable and easy to talk to, and nothing ever seemed to phase her. Any crisis that came up, she handled with great aplomb. People would rage at her, and she would smile this Mona Lisa smile and pat them on the shoulder before walking away. She appeared to show a great deal of love and fondness for us in the Order, but we never really knew anything about her personal life. Did she have a lover? Husband? Mate? We never knew.”

“She was a little off, though,” Remus reminded his partner softly. “Sometimes, when she was sitting in the background and away from the others, she would have this mean little smile as she watched us; almost as if she were plotting our demises and was enjoying it. There would be an off-color remark that would shock us, or a suggestion to use violence with that same smile on her face. No one else seemed to notice how unemotional she was, except when it came to something that really set her off. Then you would see a level of fury that didn’t match the situation that we were discussing. Frankly, she was terrifying, and when the old man approached us for her assassination, I knew that I didn’t want to go anywhere near her.

“Albus caught her torturing a homeless man just down the way from the Order headquarters in Grimsby and enjoying it. Shocked by what he saw, he watched from a safe hiding place as she tormented him until he died, then she rolled him into the waters of the river Freshney. Our headquarters at that time sat on the bank of the river; it was out of the way enough of typical muggle traffic that we wouldn’t be spotted popping in and out of the area, yet provided enough seclusion that tramps and hobos would frequently shelter next to the house. Dumbledore figured that it wasn’t the first time she’d indulged in a bit of homicide, and he was afraid that she’d make a mistake in front of Aurors or muggles, which would completely destroy all of our efforts in the war. So we stalked her for a couple of weeks, to get her pattern of habits, and murdered her with the killing curse when the opportunity presented itself.”

“I’ll want memories of all of these conversations you had with the old man,” Lucius remarked, rubbing his hands together greedily. “Just make sure that you only pull the ones that feature Albus Dumbledore and no one else. I would prefer that you have ones where neither of you are speaking, but if we can’t get that, then we’ll work on masking your voices somehow. We’ll use them as more evidence against the headmaster by pointing out the lengths to which he would go to incite panic amongst our people by creating phantom enemies against whom to fight.”

Notes:

Translation: to reveal its true form.

Chapter 28

The birthday party was in full swing. As well as Crispin celebrating his twelfth birthday, Draco was over the moon to be having his own special day celebrated along with his very best friend. Neville Longbottom had been born the day before Crispin, who was approached about the shy, awkward boy by Dean and Seamus during one of their school meetings. The pair were worried that Longbottom wouldn’t be able to reach his potential being stuck with Granger and Weasley always in his ear about his poor performance in his lessons. The only class the chubby preteen was adept at was herbology. After watching things for a bit, Crispin came to the conclusion that Neville’s wand wasn’t working right for him; that it fought him every step of the way.

So, he asked Severus to speak with professor Sprout about the problem; she, in turn, took Augusta out to tea one weekend and chatted about how wonderfully her grandson was doing in Sprout’s class, then delicately broached the topic of the child’s wand giving him difficulties in his other subjects. She explained that, through the observations of his other teachers, they came to the conclusion that Longbottom’s wand was the issue with his inability to control his magic better. The boy’s grandmother sheepishly admitted that he was using his father’s wand; that she thought he would be more like her son, Frank, if he used the elder Longbottom’s wand. Sprout gave the woman a stern talking-to about stunting the eleven year old’s magic, and that very next weekend, he had a wand that actually worked for him, which improved his class performance tremendously.

With his parents permanent residents of the Janus Thickey ward, and his grandmother being such a harsh, demanding guardian, the chubby preteen had nearly no friends at school. So, Dean and Seamus had talked things over with the Snape heir, who agreed wholeheartedly to sharing his day with the Longbottom heir. Augusta was a little reluctant at first; after all, no one had shown her grandson any attention before now, but once she found out that there were several responsible adults overseeing the festivities, and with the wide variety of students from different houses, including Amelia Bones’ niece, she finally agreed to allow Neville to attend.

Crispin had encouraged some of his friends to invite others of like mind along on some of their muggle outings, and that was how Susan Bones had become a part of their growing group. Whilst the kids were playing party games in another part of Grimmauld Place, the adults were sitting in the library once again, chatting about a wide variety of plans for their future. “Hey, Tom?” Sirius said out of the blue. The many decades older man looked at the animagus curiously, brow furrowed slightly at the odd tone to the younger man’s voice. “What happened to my brother Regulus?” was not a question the Dark Lord was expecting, and he was silent for several moments as he tried to remember anything about the first war.

“I...I don’t know,” he finally answered with a shrug. The scowl he received for the reply had him instantly on the defensive.

“According to my mother, he had joined your cause and disappeared,” Black snapped angrily. “She said that he died upholding the Black family values, whilst in service to you.”

“Sirius, I never Marked Regulus,” Riddle insisted vehemently. “I was expecting him to turn up at a rally my followers and I were holding, but he never showed. I figured he backed out, and didn’t give him a second thought.”

“But my mother said…” the animagus started to insist, but his words were cut off by Severus.

“Are you sure she was telling you the truth, Sirius?” the Potions Master asked reasonably, trying to head off the brewing argument.

“Why would she lie?” Black asked, then grimaced as he realized the stupidity of his question.

“You could always ask her,” Lucius suggested with a slight smirk. “Depending on how she reacts to the question, you’ll have your answer one way or another.”

“We...ah...we can’t,” Remus contributed a little sheepishly. “When we remodeled the house, we were intent on getting her repulsive portrait off the wall, but she’d had it attached with a permanent sticking charm, so we took out the whole wall. We burned the portrait in the backyard, and her screams were immensely satisfying as she was reduced to ashes.”

“Well, is there someone else you could ask?” the blond queried, eyebrow arched over his eye in challenge.

“Kreacher,” Sirius called quietly, remembering that the old elf had a particular fondness for his younger brother. Kreacher popped into the library and bowed to everyone, eyeing his master curiously. “Do you know what happened to Regulus?” Almost as if he was a puppet whose strings were cut, the elf collapsed to the floor, sobbing piteously. A sickly glow surrounded the little being for a few moments, and an audible snap, as if of magic being released, sounded through the room.

“Kreacher is being sorry, master, but Kreacher is being prevented from being telling master that master Regulus is alive,” the elf told the stunned men. “Mistress is being casting a spell on Kreacher when mistress is still being alive, which is being preventing Kreacher from talking about master Regulus unless Kreacher is being asked about master Regulus.”

“Why would she do that? What happened to him?” the animagus asked anxiously.

“Mistress is being locking master Regulus in the home on Monuriki Island,” the elf told everyone, feeling lighter since the spell preventing him from helping his young master had been broken. “He is being tended to by two house elves, and is being hidden from the mugglies with wards. Kreacher is being trying to visit master Regulus, but the wards is being keeping Kreacher away. Mistress was being wanting to punish master Regulus and master Sirius for being betraying the Dark.”

“Do you know how to get into the house, Siri?” Remus queried. He’d liked the younger Black sibling; the teen hadn’t batted an eyelash when he found out about Lupin’s lycanthropy, which earned the werewolf’s undying loyalty and respect.

“I barely remember that home,” the animagus replied thoughtfully, “but from what I do recall, it has restricted floo access, which has probably been changed since Reggie was locked away there. I can find the exact coordinates in the list of properties, and we can apparate there and see what we can do to bring my brother back home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Reg. Good to see you again,” Sirius husked out as he hugged his baby brother to him. “I have missed you so much. Mother told me that you’d gone and joined Voldemort’s forces, and that you were killed in service to him. We’ll get you home, and maybe you can explain how you got trapped here.” The portkey that Tom had given the animagus went off as soon as his little brother touched it, taking them directly to the library in Grimmauld, where Lucius, Severus, Remus and Tom Riddle were waiting. Before he could move, the younger Black was engulfed in a many-armed hug as everyone leapt up and embraced him.

“I’m so glad to be out of there,” Regulus murmured as tears shimmered in his dark eyes. The pop of a house elf signaled Kreacher’s arrival, and the Black heir suddenly wobbled as spindly arms wrapped themselves around his knees, his trousers dampening as the elf buried his face in his master’s legs and sobbed for all he was worth.

“Kreacher is being so sorry, master Regulus,” the elderly being wailed, his frame shuddering with the strength of his grief and shame. “Kreacher wasn’t being able to being telling anyone about master Regulus’ imprisonment by the mistress. Kreacher is being hoping that master Sirius is being able to being bringing master Regulus home. Kreacher is being very happy that master Regulus is being home.” Pulling himself from everyone else’s arms, Reggie knelt down and wrapped his favorite house elf in a hug, letting the little being get it all out of his system.

“It’s all right, Kreacher,” the younger Black sibling murmured as he patted his favorite elf on the back gently. “It’s not your fault that Mother locked me away for rejecting hers and Father’s twisted ideals. You took exemplary care of me when Sirius went to stay with James Potter, and I couldn’t ask for a better champion. I’m glad to be home, and I hope you’ll continue to take good care of me.”

After a bit, the elf finally got himself back under control, and with a nod of his head, he popped away to prepare Regulus’ old room for him. Back in the library, a very uncomfortable conversation was beginning. “How could Mum lie to me about your disappearance?” Sirius questioned his brother as everyone found a seat. “She knew how much I adored you. It nearly killed me when she told me you were dead; that you had died because of Voldemort.”

“You know that Mum and Dad were always about the Dark Arts,” Regulus explained with a grimace. “The Darker, the better was always their attitudes. You do know that what they did to us was abuse, don’t you, Siri?” At the animagus’ reluctant nod, the younger man continued. “After you ran away, they focused all of that anger and attention on me, torturing me until I finally gave in and agreed to sell myself to the Dark Lord. Of course, I had no intention of following through with it, and as soon as they backed off, I decided to figure out a way to infiltrate his forces and see if there was a way to take him down from inside the organization. Unfortunately, Mum heard me talking about my plans to Kreacher, and she sent me to Monuriki as punishment. She thought that if I was isolated long enough, I would become desperate enough to agree to whatever she wanted. She also told me that she’d hoped that my disappearance would bring you back home. That you would ‘turn your back on that disgusting blood traitor Potter’.”

“Mum died shortly after you ‘disappeared’,” Sirius told his brother. “However, before she left, she enchanted one of her last painted portraits to absorb her soul when she passed on, and put it on the wall in the main entrance hallway with a permanent sticking charm. Any noise would wake it up, and she would give her banshee shriek that echoed all throughout the house. When Remus and I came back to Grimmauld and refurbished the old place, we couldn’t figure out how to get rid of that monstrosity, so we took the whole wall out, reinforcing the ceiling with some nice wooden posts. We took the wall out into the backyard and burned the portrait while she wailed and whinged about how ungrateful her son was.

“She would tell me that you had ‘upheld the honor of the Black family’ by getting yourself killed in service to the Dark Lord. Then, when I finally met and got to know my godson, Severus and the Malfoys, I began to realize that our parents were at the extreme end of the Dark Arts, and that, when used responsibly, certain Dark Arts are beneficial to wizardkind. They introduced me to Tom Riddle, whom I found out later actually used to be Voldemort, and my whole world changed. Lucius is Minister, and he’s put so many different policies in place that benefit magical creatures and muggleborns, and we’re all planning on ways to carve out our own space so that we’re away from the muggles, and the risk of exposure to them.”

“I don’t want to be the one to tell you this, because I know it’ll hurt you, but Lily Potter convinced Mother to leave me on that island indefinitely,” Regulus told his brother softly. “She thought that your grief over my ‘death’ would drive you away from England, and that you would take James with you. She’d told me several times that she wanted out of the marriage; that she didn’t love Potter as much as she loved Severus. She once told me that she was using contraceptive charms to keep from getting pregnant to him, just before Mum sent me away. After that, I didn’t know what was going on here until you came to get me.”

“Well, a couple of major things have happened since you ‘died’,” Severus chimed in, an angry glint in his eye. “We found out that a drunken encounter I had with Lily led to my son, Crispin. She was hoping that Tom’s visit to the cottage would result in the deaths of James and the boy. She, of course, had other plans and set up a decoy to die in her place the night of the attack. She still lives, and is teaching at Hogwarts, under the benevolent kindness of headmaster Albus Dumbledore.”

Chapter 29

Notes:

I'm likely to offend a few people with this chapter, but what I've said is the truth. Being an American citizen for sixty one years, I've seen a lot; especially in the last seven years, and it saddens me that a single man, by the name of Donald J. Trump, has undone all the progress we've made in regards to human rights, reproductive rights, and the ability for self-direction. His insane sycophants have been working tirelessly to destroy this country, and it started with the racial tensions that cropped up once he was elected.
Also, Vampirelord43 pointed out a goof in continuity between this chapter and chapter 34, and I've fixed it in this chapter.

The kids were with Sirius, Remus, Severus and Tom in Diagon Alley, shopping for their school things. It was August fifteenth, two days after the full moon, and they waited as long as they could, hoping that the crowds wouldn’t be too heavy, since the lycan was still recovering. Their letters came in the last few days of June, giving them plenty of time to make plans for their trip to the Alley. Fortunately, they came at a time that was nearly perfectly positioned between the arrivals of their letters and the mad dash a few days before the start of school, which meant that they had the shopping center all to themselves. They hit every store, but when they got to Flourish and Blott’s, all the kids and adults wrinkled their noses at the strong, overly-flowery stench of cologne that permeated the premises. Crispin was the only one brave enough to enter the establishment and ask the owner what that awful smell was.

“Oh, that’s Gilderoy Lockhart’s perfume,” the older man said with a sneer. “He was in here around the first of August, peddling his latest work of fiction.”

“I take it you don’t care for the man,” Severus intoned, fighting hard not to sneeze as the odor tickled his nostrils.

“No, I don’t,” Richard Flourisham barked, scowling. “Every time he comes out with a new book, there’s a run on the store and I have to spend weeks cleaning up the mess. My partner, Joseph Blottstein, is out at the moment, trying to locate our latest supply of defense texts. They seem to be lost in transit somehow.”

“Why do you stock his books if you don’t care for the man?” Tom queried curiously. “Obviously, just judging by the foul stench that’s lingering, he isn’t pleasant to be around.”

“He’s very popular with the ladies,” Richard explained with a tired sigh. “Every time he comes here, it’s a near riot as the females overrun the store. We have to hire security just to make sure that the man survives the visit.”

“Isn’t he the one that brags about all of these hair raising ‘adventures’?” Remus asked, using air quotes around the last word. “How he saved hundreds of muggle and wizarding lives with his ‘heroics’?” The gesture was made again, and Flourisham’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you doing that finger thing?” he asked curiously, his ire at their obnoxiously vain celebrity forgotten for the moment.

“Ah,” the lycan answered with a slight blush, “I’ve had to find work in the muggle world a time or two and some of my coworkers always used what they call air quotes around a word that they wanted to emphasize in their conversations. It lets the listener know that the speakers are being sarcastic, in case the tone doesn’t come through in their voices. I thought it was an interesting way to add flair to a conversation, and I adopted it.”

“Interesting,” the owner remarked with a slight grin. Remus didn’t know it, but the partnership of Flourish and Blott’s would adopt the gesture, using it to such an extent that, by the time school started again, nearly half of the students; pureblood, halfblood and muggleborn; would be using it in their everyday conversations. Observers, which included many of the professors, would also add the hand gesture to their repertoire of silent conversation skills, which would drive Albus Dumbledore mad.

“Anyway, I’ve spoken to some of the people in these ‘villages’ that Lockhart supposedly saved, and I found out that he was going from magical community to magical community, under the guise of interviewing the residents to get interesting stories for a series of books he wanted to write. The actual people who had performed those heroic deeds would tell him about them, and then he would promptly obliviate them and claim the tale for himself. Of course, without proof, there’s no way to get the fraud arrested for illegal use of mind magics, amongst other things.”

“Why would you talk to villagers about these tales?” Tom queried gently.

“The way he talked about his ‘adventures’ whilst he was doing his book signings seemed too pat; too glib, and they sounded over exaggerated. You know how it is; a fishing buddy will come back empty handed, and brag about the monstrous sized fish that got away. These tales felt the same way, so I figured to do a little investigating. While the actual heroes couldn’t tell me anything, there were plenty of witnesses who shared the real stories. However, Gilly threatened them with lawsuits if they even dared to try and besmirch his ‘pristine’ character. With his popularity and celebrity status, no one would believe that he hadn’t done those things.”

“That’s quite the pickle you have there,” Crispin remarked wryly. “Too bad that no one bothered to get any sort of...oh, I don’t know...photographic evidence of the confrontations. I’m sure that if we took a look at things, we might be able to secure enough proof to, at the very least, see his arse in prison for a few years, and his reputation shredded.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the group made their way to the apparition point, there was a bit of a scuffle as Tom, who was out in front of the party and not paying any attention to where he was going, bumped into a woman, nearly knocking her to the cobblestones. Lightning quick, his hand shot out and grabbed her elbow, steadying her before she could complete her fall. “Merlin, I’m sorry,” he murmured as he helped her get her feet back underneath her. “I was so engrossed in conversation with my family that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“That’s quite all right,” she replied a little breathlessly as she wavered for a moment, still slightly off-balance. Once she’d finally steadied herself, she looked up, blue eyes widening in shocked surprise as her gaze met the ruby eyes of Riddle. For his part, as soon as their eyes locked, he was totally smitten. She was slightly shorter than his six foot four height, and along with sparkling blue eyes, she had long honey blonde hair and a peaches and cream complexion. She was svelte and sexy in dark blue figure-hugging robes, and the only jewelry she wore was a gold rope necklace studded with round cut diamonds and square cut sapphires, with a pair of earrings to match. The gems framed her face beautifully, and the Dark Lord couldn’t take his eyes off of her. “I’m...I’m June Moone,” she continued huskily, holding her hand out. He took it in both of his own, bowing his head to brush his lips over her knuckles.

“I’m Tom Riddle,” he whispered, completely enchanted by the beautiful woman in front of him. They stared at each other for several long moments, until a soft throat clearing jarred him out of his fugue. Turning with a blush and a sheepish smile, he gestured to the motley crew behind him. “These are my family. That’s Severus Snape, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. The kids are Crispin Snape, Draco Malfoy, Fred and George Weasley…” Before he could continue, she gently interrupted him.

“No need to introduce all of the children,” she told everyone. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing some of them on Hogsmeade weekends, and for the others, I’ve no doubt we’ll meet again. I was just wandering the Alley, looking at all of the businesses to see if I’d have any competition.”

“What do you mean, competition?” Sirius asked softly, brow furrowed.

“I’m a spellcrafter, and I’ve opened a shop in Hogsmeade called The Enchantress’ Lair. I came here because I was told it was a town, and I thought I’d open up shop here. But now that I’ve seen it, Diagon Alley is nothing more than a strip mall, with the less reputable shops down Knockturn.”

“Strip mall?” Sirius queried, confused. “I don’t think there’s any go-go pubs here.”

Laughing, June tried to explain. “A strip mall is a long, connected row of storefronts, bars and shops. They sell everything, from tobacco products to sex toys. It’s a convenient way for the muggles to find everything they need without traveling all over the city to find the stores. Big cities in the States have dozens of strip malls dotted all over their landscape.”

“You’re from across the pond?” Draco queried excitedly. At her nod, he grinned widely. “What’s the magical world like over there? Are the muggles different there than here? Do they have nuclear weapons, too? Are the wizards there hiding out from the muggles like we are?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Moone said helplessly as she held up her hands in surrender. “One question at a time. Now…”

“Why don’t you join us,” Tom interrupted with a charming smile, which had the young woman blushing madly. “We’re about to head home so the kids can put their school supplies away, and we’ve missed lunch. If you’d like, you can stay for dinner so that the kids can grill you for information.”

“I would love to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, you and your family are planning to transplant all of the magicals in the world to our own space?” June clarified softly. The conversations went on all afternoon, and it was nearly dark. The kids were in their rooms, talking over all the information that they’d heard from their guest that afternoon. They were very surprised to learn that thirteen countries had nuclear weapons stockpiled, with Russia in the lead at thirty seven thousand and the United States a close second with ten thousand nine hundred and four. They were even shocked to learn that the UK also had nuclear bombs-a whopping four hundred twenty two of them. All told, there were approximately fifty three thousand and five ticking time bombs in the world, capable of wiping out all life on earth in a matter of minutes.

“That is our goal,” Lucius told the young woman softly. She was happy to meet more of Tom’s family, but nearly fainted when she learned that Lucius Malfoy was part of the impetus behind the eventual exodus of the magicals, and that, considering his past political leanings, he was more than willing to add non-purebloods to the mix. “With the escalating violence in the muggle world, along with the potential for nuclear war, we’re working doubly hard to procure some uninhabited islands that we’ll protect so that we can finally live without the worry of exposing ourselves to the muggles and the likely violent reactions when it happens.”

“It’s not a terrible idea, and many of the magicals in the US would be happy to have a place that they could call their own,” Moone replied after some thought. “There are countries in the world where differences are more accepted, but the United States definitely isn’t one of them. Much of that can be attributed to the dozens and dozens of different cultures that make up the United States of America. We’ve become the country to where people flee who are oppressed. Unfortunately, our nation was founded by privileged white men who thought nothing of pushing aside the First Nations people who lived there before them.

“If you look at it, the United States’ history is full of white people enslaving natives, and it all started with Christopher Columbus. He’d stopped at the Caribbean islands and South America on his journey around the world and violently yanked the indigenous peoples from their homes to use as mules and workhorses for his own gain. He pulled the same malarkey all through the Americas. He brutalized them, murdering the women and children to prevent the men from revolting against he and his crew men. He sent indigenous peoples back to Italy to work as slaves, and a lot of them died on the way.

“I’m not saying that all Caucasians in the US act this way, but there are more than are comfortable to be around. These bigots express their disapproval of other cultures with guns and bats and brutality. We, as magicals, are damn near terrified every single day that a group of those ‘good ol’ boys’ will find our communities and slaughter us. Or, worse still, they’ll use us as a rallying point to encourage the country to treat all people of differing cultures and skin colors as outsiders. The political climate there balances on a razor’s edge, and it wouldn’t take but a single push by the right individual to send everyone over that edge and into mutual mass genocide.”

“So, effectively, you’re telling us that we need to move on this sooner, rather than later,” Tom deadpanned. Severus, Sirius, Remus and Lucius were looking at the woman with horror, terrified of the powder keg that was the USA.

“Yes,” she said flatly. “It only takes one to light the match that will end the world.”

Notes:

https://a.1stdibscdn.com/archivesE/upload/1121189/j_202822421693997458547/20282242_datamatics.jpg?disable=upscale&auto=webp&quality=60&width=700

Chapter 30

The Slytherin car at the back of the train was full to bursting with, not only the returning Slytherins, but all the different friends of Crispin’s from all the other houses. Supervising the motley gang were Severus, Tom, Sirius and Remus; both the werewolf and the animagus were excited for the new adventures in which they’d be involving themselves, and they also carried a ‘get out of jail free’ card in the form of documentation asserting that they had been absolved of the ‘crimes’ that had been committed during the first war. Amelia Bones herself had drafted the ironclad contracts, after watching numerous memories of Albus Dumbledore instructing the pair on their assassination assignments, as well as evidence of other crimes that the headmaster had committed during his tenure as leader of the Order of the Phoenix.

Because martial law had been proclaimed by Bartemius Crouch, Sr., the activities of the Order were given a pass by the former Head of the DMLE, since his own Aurors were in the thick of it with illegal curses and hexes, themselves. Amelia intended to save the evidence for the time that she could go ahead and prosecute the headmaster on the other sins committed against the British wizarding world.  Once Severus and Tom found out what the headmaster was angling to get out of Lily Potter's presence in the school, they would present all that information to the DMLE head, so that she could pursue charges against the redhead, of which the younger woman was racking up many.

Tom had finally revealed his animagus form, and intended to act as Draco’s familiar whilst in the school. Ironically enough, because of his parseltongue abilities as well as his vicious defense of those he considered family, Riddle’s form was that of an African hairy bush viper, or his scientific name, Atheris hispida. He was 91.44 cm long, which made him the largest representation of the species in the known world. Most of his size was attributed to the fact that he was a human being with magic. What made Tom’s animagus form especially dangerous was his venom, as it was not only neurotoxic, but cytotoxic and fasciculotoxic, which meant that it affected nerves, cells and muscles, all at once. As soon as he made his first transformation in front of the kids, Crispin was on his knees and cuddling the serpent. “You’re so adorable,” the Snape heir cooed with a wide smile.

“You’re lucky I love you so much, brat,” Tom had hissed, aggrieved. “This is unseemly behavior for the future ruler of the wizarding world. For the record, I am not cute; I am a deadly venomous viper who will not hesitate to wreak justified vengeance if necessary. Please remember that.”

“Have you decided on what you wanted to call your serpent?” Severus asked the blond. Tom was curled around the boy’s neck, tickling the child’s ear and making him giggle. Snape stared at the sight with an incredulous expression that was mirrored to some extent on Sirius’ and Remus’ countenances. A quiet snort from the animagus and his werewolf spouse was all the reaction that Riddle needed as he preened, happy that he had such a strong support system surrounding him.

“I was thinking of Harry for two reasons,” Malfoy murmured as he stroked the keeled scales gently, eliciting a surprising hiss of pleasure. “One, because he looks like a hairy snake, and the other because that was what Crispin’s name used to be, and though he’s not the savior that everyone expected, he is becoming the kind of savior that we all need. Besides, I think it’ll be funny to tweak the headmaster and Potter a little.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone was at their house tables, and Crispin and Draco were watching the sorting from their vantage point with the Ravenclaws, wondering which new students would be joining them. Most of the kids looked excited, though a few muggleborns seemed to be terrified. It was unfortunate that they couldn’t take advantage of the magical primary schools, it being a bit too late for them, but any who were sorted to Ravenclaw would be welcomed by both the Snape and the Malfoy heirs with open arms and friendly faces.

As the sorting was winding down, the pair was watching another redhead with freckles who looked remarkably like the loudmouthed Weasley in Gryffindor, who seemed to be searching the lion’s house for someone. “Merlin,” Crispin murmured to his best mate softly. “That must be the sister Fred and George warned us about.”

“I don’t know why she would be searching Gryffindor for you,” the blond remarked with a frown.

“James Potter went to that house,” the brunet reminded his buddy quietly. “The Potter bitch went there, too, and even though Severus is my real dad, everyone still believes that I was born to James Potter. Since the incubator married Potter, it seems to be a logical assumption that I would go to the same house as they did.”

“Ah, but we’re proof that those expectations are a bit nonsensical,” Malfoy argued, eyes narrowing as the girl started searching the rest of the tables for the Savior of the wizarding world. She skimmed right past Slytherin, and her eyes widened comically as she finally spied him sitting amongst the ‘Claws. Her brown eyes lit up and a wide smile creased her face as she started toward them.

“Ginevra Weasley,” McGonagall announced, blue eyes narrowed in censure at the girl for disrespecting the ceremony. The youngest Weasley was not cowed, lending truth to the claim that Molly Weasley was infinitely more terrifying than the deputy headmistress. She walked up to the stool with her head high, flinching only slightly as the hat was dropped on her noggin. Instantly the girl scowled, as if she didn’t like or appreciate what was being told to her. It took an incredibly long time and Weasley’s face grew redder and redder as she continued to argue with the headgear. Finally the anticipatory silence was broken when the hat said, “I don’t care what your mother said. I don’t sort based on romantic pairings, and you, child, are not wise enough to be sorted to Ravenclaw. That stubborn bullheadedness is fit for only one house. Better be GRYFFINDOR!”

The girl yanked the hat from her head and threw it to the floor with a snarl and then, ignoring the directions Minerva was trying to give the girl, stormed over to the Ravenclaw table and started yelling at a very startled Crispin Severus Snape. “I don’t care who you think you are, although Ron’s told me plenty about your actions and your Darker leanings. You are going to be my husband, and nothing you do or say will change that! I was meant to be Harry Potter’s wife, and if you don’t agree immediately, my mum will come here herself and make you agree!”

“Twenty points from Gryffindor for causing a ruckus in the Great Hall,” Severus intoned angrily as he stalked up to the girl. She jumped and squeaked, spinning around to stare at the older man in momentary fear that fled seconds later.

“You have no business interrupting this very important conversation about my future with my husband,” she snapped. Many students from all the tables, including Gryffindor, gasped at the girl’s blatant disrespect. “You are not his father, no matter what Death Eater tricks you try to pull to claim yourself that. He is mine, and nothing and no one is going to stop me from bonding with him.”

“Miss Weasley,” Albus finally interjected when he saw all the hostile eyes aimed his way. “Please accompany me to my office. Ronald, Fred, George and Percy, join us as soon as you can.” He stalked up to the girl and grabbed her arm, dragging her away over her screaming protests. The four boys rose from the table and left moments later, the youngest Weasley male glaring for all he was worth at Crispin, as if being taken away from his food was the other boy’s fault. Hermione watched the redhead leave then turned brown eyes to the ‘Claws, where they clashed with irate green. The staring contest lasted only a few seconds; Granger wasn’t brave enough to maintain eye contact with those infuriated orbs.

“Well,” Draco murmured after everything returned to normal, “I can see how this year is shaping up already.” An angry hiss from his ‘familiar’ had Crispin snorting softly.

“Tom agrees,” he murmured with a grin, “and he’s ready to envenom them when he has the chance.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Molly Weasley, the Burrow,” Dumbledore barked as soon as all the children were in his office. Fred and George winced, not looking forward to the banshee shrieks she’d likely unleash in defense of her precious little baby girl. The fire flickered as her head breached the emerald flames, and her eyes narrowed instantly at seeing all of her children in the headmaster’s office.

“School hasn’t even started yet and already you lot are in trouble?” she asked incredulously.

“Molly, we have a situation,” Albus interjected before the woman could blast everyone with her air raid siren voice. She looked at the old man for a moment, before her eyes scanned right to see both Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall in the office as well. “Your daughter defiled the sanctity of the sorting ritual, first by not paying attention to the other students who were receiving the honor, and second by creating a spectacle in arguing with the hat, to the point that he had to loudly proclaim her unsuitability for Ravenclaw and why she was destined for Gryffindor. Then, when she didn’t get what she wanted, she stormed over to Harry Potter…”

Severus cleared his throat and glared meaningfully at the headmaster, who nodded churlishly and continued. “As I was saying, she stomped over to Crispin Snape and began to berate him, demanding that he acknowledge the fact that she was his future spouse, and that he accept the future bonding.” Albus was sweating profusely; he had talked to Molly at length about binding the Savior of the Wizarding world to the Lightest family he knew, who were staunch supporters of his, but he didn’t want the redheaded woman to reveal those private conversations to the father of the boy he’d promised to the Weasley clan. She opened her mouth, perhaps to spill their schemes, but Fate interjected in the form of the Sorting Hat, who demanded to be heard. Heaving a silent sigh, Dumbledore summoned the battered piece of felt and laid it gently on his desk.

“Miss Weasley,” the hat intoned, “Destiny has a stronger claim on Crispin Severus Snape than you do.” Before he could continue, Molly interrupted.

“Who the hell is Crispin Severus Snape?” she barked out, astonished. “I didn’t think anyone would touch you, Severus, let alone bed you.” Crispin’s father opened his mouth, perhaps to shred whatever dignity the woman had, but was prevented from venting his spleen by the hat.

“Molly Elisabeth Weasley, you were always an arrogant, contentious child, and I see that you haven’t grown out of that. You are pressing for a bonding between your daughter and Severus’ son, and you think the best way to win that is by insulting him? You, like your daughter, were tough to sort, since your ambitions and intellect didn’t suit any of the houses. Unfortunately, I’m not permitted to turn students away, so I put you in the house that would hopefully teach you loyalty, bravery and honor. Obviously, that hasn’t happened.

“Now, as I was saying, Destiny has a stronger hold on Crispin Snape than your puny efforts to bag a prince charming for your daughter. The fact that you and the headmaster, in concert, are trying to circumvent that destiny is an affront to the gods and goddesses who granted us the gift of magic. Albus, I will tell you what you refuse to believe from anyone else; Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort, is gone. He’s never coming back, and your efforts to try and keep the fear of him alive will come round to bite you in the arse if you’re not careful. I am only going to tell you this once; leave off interfering with that child’s life and education. If you continue to butt your long, crooked nose in where it doesn’t belong, many more of your sins than have already been revealed will come to light, and you won’t even be left with a pot to piss in if you don’t heed my warning.

“This goes for you, too, Molly Elisabeth Weasley. Something great is coming, and you can either join in and help move it along, or get the hell out of the way.”

Chapter 31

Mr. Snape,

I would like to meet with you tonight after dinner for our first lesson. I must remind you that anything you learn in our lessons must be kept between you and I. I believe we should be able to have enough time before curfew to learn a few things.

I am particularly fond of Peeps.

Albus Dumbledore

“Well, it’s started,” Crispin grumbled as he passed the note to Draco. “Joy.”

“You know,” the blond murmured absently as his eyes scanned the missive for the fourth time, “you sound just like your dad.”

“Thanks,” the brunet chirped with a grin. “Anyway, we’re having Dobby shadow me to these lessons, just in case something happens. I know that Potter will somehow get herself involved in this ridiculousness, and I’d like Dad there, but I don’t know how well that would go over.”

“If you’re really worried, you could always take Tom with you,” the blond suggested reasonably. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to join you in seeing exactly what kinds of lessons Dumbledore is set to teach you.” Hissing came from beneath Draco’s collar and Crispin grinned, snorting quietly as the snake finished speaking.

“He says that wild horses wouldn’t keep him from attending with me, and that if anyone tries anything, he’ll launch himself across the office if necessary and nail that wrinkled old nut-sack on his long, crooked nose.”  Movement out of the corner of his eye had the raven haired boy turning to the head table, eyes narrowed suspiciously.  "What do you want bet that this is going to be something that neither one of us is going to like."

“I have an announcement to make,” the headmaster said as he stood. Minerva was hissing at him in a last-ditch effort to try and get him to rethink what he was about to do, but the old man ignored her with impunity. “I have decided, in order to encourage inter-house unity, to blend the houses together in classes. Therefore, you will see your head of house for a list of students with whom you are to attend every class. This is non-negotiable, and I don’t want to hear any whinging about not being able to be with your friends. You need to learn to get along with wizards and witches from all walks of life, and this is the best way to accomplish that. Now, let’s eat!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, professor Black,” said an unwelcome voice from the doorway. Sirius looked up with a scowl as he restlessly straightened the books and papers on his desk. “I’m professor Covidia Carrion, and I’m the History of Magic teacher,” she continued as she stepped into his classroom. Lupin-Black’s hand dropped to his side and he wiggled his arm, letting his wand slide into his fist as he waited for whatever she came to tell him. “I noticed at breakfast that you and professor Lupin were rather friendly with Severus Snape, and I was hoping to get your help with something.”

Breathing deeply to get his fury under control, it was a few moments before he could answer with some semblance of normalcy. “I can’t promise anything until you tell me what you want.” The animagus silently congratulated himself that only a slight bit of anger bled into his voice. Lily never even noticed the attitude; too intent on finally having someone to help her get what she wanted.

“Professor Snape doesn’t seem to be too friendly toward me, and I don’t have any clue as to why.” Maybe it’s because you set his son up to be murdered, the Wizarding Culture and Traditions professor thought churlishly. “I would appreciate it if you could speak to him for me,” Potter continued, oblivious to the other man’s slight distraction, “and let him know that I would surely love a chance to get to know him, and for him to get to know me. I’m positive that, once we’ve spoken for a bit, he’ll warm up to me.”

“Professor Snape and I were introduced a couple of weeks before the beginning of term,” Lupin-Black informed the woman before him. “We attended Hogwarts together, but weren’t friendly, so I’m not sure how well I’ll do in trying to convince him to give you a chance.”

“Just try,” Covidia beseeched him quietly, brown eyes eager. “That’s all I ask.” Obviously, something’s changed between the two of you, if Severus is able to talk to you without hexes and curses, she speculated as she left the room to return to her class. With that horrible prank you pulled at the end of fifth year, I would have thought Sev would’ve killed you where you stood. Lucky for me that I now have an ‘in’ to convince Severus that we never should have parted; that we should have remained together, no matter what.

“What was that all about?” Remus asked as he came out of Sirius’ and his quarters, which were located behind the door at the back of the classroom.

“Lily’s trying to get me to help her trap Severus,” the animagus spat angrily, still glaring at the empty doorway that led out into the hall. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she approached you sometime today to ask the same thing.”

“She can ask, but I’m not going to be quite so agreeable,” the werewolf snarled, eyes glowing an eerie amber for a few minutes. “In fact, I might just let the cat out of the bag about Sev’s new lady love.”

“I wouldn’t do that until you talk to Severus about it,” Sirius cautioned quietly. “He might not wish to reveal that to anyone at the moment. They’re still trying to get to know each other.”

“Speaking of, wasn’t the new alchemy teacher supposed to be here already?” Remus queried, gratefully moving away from the conversation about Lily.

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed absently as he shuffled some papers around on his desk. “I think Albus mentioned something about her being late because she had to get her affairs in order…” Lupin-Black’s voice trailed off as his grey eyes widened in realization. “You don’t think…” he whispered, spinning to stare at his mate with a wide, maniacal grin. Black-Lupin’s own grin grew to match his husband’s as they looked at each other for several moments. Out in the hall, several students jumped in startlement as the loud, barking laughter rolled out of the classroom, and they stared at each other a little fearfully at the edge of madness in the sound.

“Merlin,” Justin Finch-Fletchley muttered to his fellow classmates, “I hope that whatever he’s happy about doesn’t mean trouble for us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

History of Magic was where Crispin made his stand, and his temper was very close to boiling over. He discovered that he had his lessons with Blaise, Theo, Vince and Pansy from Slytherin, Wayne, Ernie, Hannah and Susan from Hufflepuff, Kevin, Terry and Padma from Ravenclaw and Dean, Seamus, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger from Gryffindor. No matter where he sat, or with whom, Granger and Weasley would always be nearby, whispering to the beleaguered preteen whenever the professor wasn’t looking, or they were doing an assignment. However, it was in History of Magic where the last of Crispin’s tenuous hold on his fury snapped.

“Good morning, class,” the professor said as everyone finally settled down. “For the next several weeks, we are going to be doing a term project, and you will all need to break up into assigned groups of four. First will be Blaise, Wayne, Terry and Dean. Second will be Crispin, Ron, Hermione and Theo. Third will be Vince, Kevin, Ernie and Hannah, and fourth will be Susan, Pansy, Padma and Seamus. Now, I want you to get into your groups, and you are to spend the next several weeks doing research.

“I want you to compare the muggle world wars to the magical wizarding wars. How were they similar? How were they different? What were the goals of each war? Who were the leaders? The participants? What were the death tolls of these conflicts? What were the political ideals at the time? How did they factor into the goals for the conflicts? What were the economic incentives? How were the participating societies affected by the hostilities on either side? Anything you may think is relevant to the history of each armed aggression should be included in your papers. I’ve provided a few different books about the conflicts, from a variety of viewpoints. Come pick a tome and get started.”  Shuffling and scraping was heard as desks were pushed into their groups and someone from each foursome went to the front of the class to grab a book.

Theo volunteered to get the reference materials; he didn’t trust that Potter wouldn’t try and talk to his friend, so he wanted to prevent any discomfort. At the table, Hermione had already started in. “I know a lot more about this than any of you, so I’ll be the one to assign research topics for the rest of you. Make sure you let me read and correct any notes or papers you write so that we’ll all be on the same page. Now, Harry, since your mother was a muggleborn, she might have put some of her own history books in your vaults. I want you to look for anything that might be relevant to the topic.”

“Crispin,” Theo said as he set the book on his desk. He had returned in time to hear her use the wrong name and wished to correct her. At the confused look the bushy haired girl shot him, he reiterated. “His name is Crispin Snape. Kindly use it.”

“His name is Harry James Potter,” Granger retorted vehemently. “I don’t know what professor Snape is playing at, calling Harry by the wrong name and convincing him that the professor is his dad, but I intend to put a stop to it.” She turned to the emerald eyed boy, flinching slightly at the wrath glowing in his eyes. “You’ve been hanging around those awful Slytherins for far too long, and you’ve let them convince you that you’re not the Boy Who Lived. The sooner you accept your fate-given destiny, the better off you’ll be.”

“That’s it!” Crispin snapped. He slammed his palms on the top of his desk and stood up, looming over Granger and Weasley. The redhead flinched back at the fury he felt boiling off of the other boy, but Hermione’s chin jutted out in stubborn obstinacy as Snape continued. “I have had about all I can stand of yours and that moron’s,” he flicked his chin in Weasley’s direction, “interference in my concentration and my classwork. My father and aunt Narcissa have been working with Draco and I since we were able to read, so I don’t need you holding my hand whilst I do my work.

“I’m going to speak to uncle Lucius, who is on the School Board of Governors, and see if I can’t get this stupidity stopped.” With that announcement, he stormed from the classroom, leaving behind stunned silence. Moments later, everyone who was a part of Crispin’s crew exited the classroom, jogging to catch up to the enraged brunet. Albus Dumbledore was just descending the last of the stairs from his lofty tower, and he frowned fiercely as he saw his puppet out of class.

“Mr. P-,” was all he got out as the enraged preteen spun on his heel and stormed up to the old man, making him backpedal several steps in momentary fright.

“If you call me by the wrong name one more time, I’ll contact madam Bones and file harassment charges on you, as well as slander for refusing to acknowledge my proper name, which is CRISPIN SEVERUS SNAPE!” The shout echoed through the empty halls, and doorways started to fill as startled students and teachers came to see what the shouting was all about. No one was surprised to see the Snape heir cornering the headmaster, and it was only a few moments before Severus was seen cresting the staircase that led to the dungeons.

“I see you’ve put your foot in it again, Albus,” the Potions Master remarked wryly as he put his hands on his son’s shoulders to ease the boy’s anger. He looked at his child with concerned eyes as he said, “I take it things didn’t go well for you in your other classes.”

“Granger and the Weasel have been up my arse since that stupid announcement this morning at breakfast,” the Prince heir snapped, enraged. “If I have to hear that loudmouthed know-it-all tell me how to do my school work one more time…

“And then this idiot was just about to call me by the wrong name, AGAIN, and it was just the last straw piled on top of the camel’s trembling back. I was just about to speak to uncle Lucius about getting a School Board meeting together to discuss this sudden change in the class schedule and makeup. I’m pretty sure that the headmaster,” spat with a fair bit of scorn in the child’s voice, “never cleared this little venture with them.”

“I am merely trying to give everyone the best education possible, and I thought intermingling with the other houses would provide a more stimulating atmosphere,” Albus justified weakly.

“Are you implying that we can’t hold the attentions of our students without your interference?” came an unwelcome voice as McGonagall descended the stairs. Angry magic had infused Crispin’s voice when he screamed at the old man, and everyone in the entire castle had heard the shout.

“Not at all, my dear,” Albus replied, managing to sound insultingly condescending. “I merely thought that the students might benefit from attending classes with the other houses so that they may challenge each other to do better.”

“Well you failed,” Draco remarked snidely as he came up to stand beside his best friend, “spectacularly.”

Chapter 32

There was a hesitant knock on the headmaster’s door, and he smiled somewhat malevolently as he called out, “Come in, Lily.” The woman entered the office and sat in the chair in front of his desk, hoping that this plan that Albus had would work, and finally clear the way for the woman to get what she wanted. She’d tried several times to convince Sirius or Remus to help her get rid of the little bastard who stood in the way of her eternal happiness, but every time she approached one or the other of them, they would sneer at her and hex her, almost as if they knew who she was and hated her. Deeply subsumed in the mental illness she had, called obsessive love disorder, which was one of a cluster of narcissistic personality disorders, she quickly denied those suspicions, sure that her brilliant acting would never give her away.

She’d been officially diagnosed during one of her summer breaks when she was fifteen, when she was required to see a Mind Healer after one of her many, many attempts at a job went balls up because she had been stalking the boss, begging him to love her, and taking disturbing, violent stabs at ridding the man of his wife and three children. All the earmarks for the infirmity were there; the overwhelming attraction to a specific target, in this case Severus, the possessive thoughts about him that plagued her almost constantly which resulted in uncomfortable, borderline dangerous actions in pursuit of those desires, an intense preoccupation with Snape, to the point that her lessons suffered to a degree, and the extreme jealousy, as evidenced by her hatred of the child to whom she gave birth and who was a part of the man she professed to love so much. Though she had exhibited these characteristics with other men in the past, Severus had become the measure by which every other man she’d stalked had been taken and found wanting. Unknown to everyone in her life now, she’d left behind several bodies in her search for that perfect mate.

“Harry will be here in about ten minutes,” the old man told her with an eager gleam in his eye. “Here’s the portkey. I’ll put you under my special disillusionment charm and you’ll stand behind whichever chair he chooses to use, and at the planned signal from me, you’ll touch the portkey to the boy and he’ll be taken to that cabin you’ve got set up. I’ll let him stew there for a few days, to see if he’ll change his tune once he’s not had food for a while, and then when I bring him some sustenance that’s doctored with a few potions, the boy will be back under my control, where he belongs. I’ll be able to get my power back, and get rid of all the roadblocks standing in my way to becoming the next Merlin.” The old man glanced at the mirror attached to Fawkes’ perch when he felt the wards surrounding his guardian trigger, and the malevolent smile grew.

“He’s at the gargoyle right now, so we need to get you out of sight.” Standing, Potter stepped to a back corner of the office as Dumbledore flicked his wand at the woman, smirking in satisfaction as she faded from view. The tap on his office door came seconds later, and with a benevolent smile he chirped, “Come in, Harry.” The raven haired preteen entered the office with a scowl, his emerald eyes reflecting his growing hatred at the blatant lack of respect the headmaster continually showed him.

“Once again, my name is Crispin Severus Snape,” the child barked as he took the first chair. Lily crept up behind him, getting close enough to touch him as she waited for her cue, which would be Albus inviting the brunet to enter the pensieve with him. The disillusioned redhead smirked a little as she watched Dumbledore’s temper go from zero to sixty in two point five seconds, glad to see that he wasn’t as perfect as he believed himself to be. That honor went to Severus Tobias Snape alone.

“I am getting sick and tired of having this same argument with you, boy,” the old man barked angrily, having had enough of the lack of reverence Crispin should be showing him because of his age, wisdom, experience, and status in the wizarding world.

“Then stop calling me by the wrong bloody name,” the preteen snapped back. “It’s simple enough that a toddler could understand, yet you seem to lack the common sense and understanding that even a toddler has.”

“Now see here!” Albus roared as he stood and loomed over the twelve year old, who looked completely unfazed by the sudden movement. Unbeknownst to Dumbledore and Potter, Dobby was standing on the seat of the chair next to Crispin, hands out and eyes narrowed as he watched both beings under his house elf invisibility spell. House elf magic was so strong that not even Albus’ special glasses could see through the masking charm. “I am your headmaster and the ultimate authority in this school, and I demand that you grant me the respect I deserve!”

“I gave you every consideration since I started here,” the youth responded flatly, temper barely held in check. “I gave you the courtesy you deserved for your position, age and experiences. However, you’ve done absolutely nothing to earn the respect you’re demanding, since you can’t be bothered to return that to others. The good, decent professors here have worked hard to earn the respect you deny them; condescending to them as if they’re recalcitrant children. Here’s a thought for you to ponder; you get what you give, and if you can’t even bother to get my ruddy name right, then you don’t deserve even the barest deference that others seem to hand you without justification. Now, are we going to do this lesson you’ve planned?”

Glaring impotently at the stubborn boy, Dumbledore retook his seat and breathed deeply for a few moments to get his rampaging anger back under control. Once he’d finally returned to a more even keel, he pulled his pensieve to him and said, “We’ll be viewing a few memories of Tom Riddle’s childhood. It is my hope that you will see and understand the kind of man from whom you’re to protect the wizarding world.” Lily’s hand came out, portkey in it, but was instantly frozen, as was Dumbledore. Dobby faded into view, glaring for all he was worth at the old man and the vacant space behind his boy.

“Crispin is being threatened,” the elf growled lowly, hands glowing with more spells. “Crispin’s incubator is being behind him and is being holding a portkey. Dobby is being getting Crispin’s mate and mate’s daddy, as well as Crispin’s daddy, so they is being able to being punishing old man and incubator.” His paladin popped away to complete his self-assigned task as the boy stood carefully from the chair, avoiding the woman’s outstretched hand as he dodged around her vague outline and went to stand by the fireplace. He didn't find out until recently that disillusionment charms, no matter who cast them, didn't work as far as he was concerned; he could always see the outline of the person, no matter how still they stayed.

In due time, not only had Draco, Lucius and the brunet’s father arrived at the headmaster’s office, but so did Sirius, Remus and Tom, in his animagus form. He was hissing invective as he promised to poison both the Potter bitch and the old fossil behind the desk. It took all Draco had to calm the serpent down, though his own temper was quickly reaching nuclear levels. Dumbledore and Lily remained frozen, but Dobby had dispelled the masking charm, revealing the woman to everyone’s eyes. “What are we going to do about this?” Severus asked almost desperately. The elf had assured everyone that neither Albus nor Carrion could hear them as they talked.

“I say we invite Amelia and Rita to the party, and let them deal with this attempted kidnapping,” Lucius intoned quietly. His grey eyes were darkened in his anger; the only evidence that he’d felt anything at all. Crispin was huddled in his dad’s arms, staring at just how close Potter had gotten to him with that portkey. “We can give the both of them the evidence that Lily Potter hadn’t died that horrible night, and that Albus has been hiding her here at Hogwarts for the last year.”

“We can’t have it publicized that Lily is still alive yet,” Severus interjected, arms wrapped tightly around his son. “What we can do, however, is give the wizarding public just enough information to start speculating, and imply that something is off with the new History of Magic teacher. Draw inferences about the sudden appearance of a total stranger who’s never been seen out and about until now, and let Albus and that bitch scramble to try and lie their way out of things.

“We all know that Dumbledore’s reputation is nearly spotless because of his defeat of Grindelwald, but until and unless we have something more substantial to start chipping away at his status in our world, we’ll need to be careful. I don’t want Albus’ anger to become such that he starts hurting the children just to get to Crispin and myself.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Crispin? Did you ever do anything about those ridiculous books that have been written about you?” Theo asked the brunet one afternoon. They were scouting the school, looking for a big enough abandoned classroom in which to start holding meetings with some of the interested students. Their core group of friends had been chatting with their house mates and sharing all the exciting things they did over the weekends and during the breaks, and more than one pureblood looked quite interested in these ‘explorations’. At the encouragement of other muggleborns, they had approached their housemates, Wayne and Ernie in Hufflepuff and Parvati and Seamus in Gryffindor, to see if they might be able to join in on these field trips.

Theo was the unofficial leader of Slytherin, and his enthusiastic approval of the ‘adventures’ in the muggle world encouraged many of the children of Death Eaters to approach he and his friends and talk about the fun they were having during their forays into the outside world. Hesitant to hope at first, they eventually relaxed enough to believe that they’d be welcome to these ‘parties’ as well, and the tide toward the eradication of muggles and muggleborns began to shift; especially when Greg and Vince, whose fathers were diehard Voldemort fans, pointed out the massive numbers of muggles to magicals and the variety of world-destroying, as well as magic-destroying weapons they had on hand.

Ravenclaw, the house of the thinkers, was the easiest to convert as a whole, and the muggleborns shared history books, magazines, newspapers, and all sorts of other types of muggle media with them, sparking lively debates about what they would like to see the magical world adopt and adapt, and how they would make the changes necessary to pull the British wizarding world into the twentieth century. So Crispin, Draco, Blaise, Theo, Pansy, Daphne and Luna were wandering around the castle, trying to find something that would be big enough to hold everyone who wanted to meet with them and talk over things. Tom was slung around Draco’s neck; the blond had grown quite fond of having the serpent as his constant companion, aside from Crispin, and would miss him once the world was ready for the former Dark Lord to reveal himself. Unbeknownst to the Malfoy heir, Riddle had plans to get the child the magical species of hairy bush viper to become a true familiar to the child.

"Not yet, but uncle Lucius has plans in the works to file injunctions against the publishers and writers of those codswallop-filled fairy tales," the Snape heir snapped angrily.  "He's also working on ways to get as much money as he can out of them for using my image without my express permission.  The first person to feel the pinch is going to be the headmaster, since he allowed all of this with his bogus claim as my 'magical guardian'."

"Good," Draco barked out, scowling.  "That old fossil needs to be punished in as many ways as possible for his stupidity in allowing that whore into the school to hurt my friend."

Hisses erupted from the serpent as the kids’ faces fell at yet another classroom that was too small for their needs, and Crispin watched his uncle with sparkling emerald eyes, a wide smile on his face at the suggestion. “How about the Chamber of Secrets?” he finally said, startling everyone with the suggestion.

“But that a myth…” Theo started, but then trailed off as he realized that Tom had been the one to suggest the idea. He peered at Riddle, who had a smug look, which was rather disturbing on a snake’s face, and then asked, “Would it be safe? I mean, I’d heard my father talking about Slytherin’s ‘monster’ and using it to get rid of the muggleborns many, many times when he was drunk with the other Death Eaters. If there’s something down there that could harm us, it probably won’t be such a good idea.”

“Tom wouldn’t have suggested it if he thought it would be unsafe,” Draco responded with a frown. “Frankly, I’m a little insulted on his behalf that you would think he’d hurt us.”

“I meant no offense,” the dark haired preteen was quick to say, eyes on the snake a little fearfully. Everyone had been exposed to Riddle fairly regularly for the last few years, but he was still the Dark Lord, and disrespect like Theo had shown was always punished, before Crispin was reunited with his dad.

Hissing from the viper had Crispin smiling as he turned to his friend and said, “Tom understands your caution, and he assures me that the ‘monster’ is relatively harmless, unless it’s been ordered to do something. Don’t worry so much, Theo. Anything uncle Tom has to offer is guaranteed to be safe.”

“How is it you understand parseltongue, but can’t speak it?” Blaise asked curiously. It had always bothered him that his friend could do this even though he wasn’t really a direct heir of the Peverells.

“Dad said that the bitch took some of James’ blood and had it infused with mine, to make sure that he’d never find out that I wasn’t his son,” the emerald eyed preteen snapped angrily. “Don’t know why it mattered, since she was planning on killing us anyway. But then, uncle Tom told me that some of his magic somehow attached to my core when he attacked us, so it could be either way.”

Chapter 33

Notes:

Added a little extra information to the discussion on moving underground. RAEN_MAKER had made several salient points a few chapters back, and I've run with them in this chapter. Thanks a bunch for the nudge in the right direction!

September 4, 1992

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Drumnadrochit

Inverness IV63 6JS, UK

 

Headmaster Dumbledore,

Please be advised that we have received numerous complaints from the parents of your students, concerning your sudden change of policy in regards to how classes are scheduled. For hundreds of years, we have sorted the students into houses, and have scheduled the classes so that two houses must attend the same classes at the same time, and it’s always been Gryffindor/Slytherin and Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff, depending on the subject. A few of the classes needed the Ravenclaws to keep the Gryffindors in check, and the Slytherins to bring out the best in the Hufflepuffs. We had decided against blending all the houses together in the classes, simply because some students learn faster and pick up more in the lessons than others, and we didn’t feel it necessary for the quicker students to be held back, as it were, whilst the professors concentrated on those students who needed more time to grasp the concepts.

You do not have the authority to change the class schedule in any way, shape or form. Your purview is the supervising of the professors and the ensuring of the safety of the children. The School Board of Governors has complete control over what classes are scheduled, how they’re scheduled and how the student population is to be combined for each class. You have obviously overstepped your bounds in your efforts to try and force a single student to associate with your pets. That ends now. As of nine o’clock this morning, you are hereby on probation; should you attempt to interfere in the way that the school is run again, you will be summarily dismissed without cause. We have grown very tired of your refusal to see the students as anything but what you deem them to be, based on your very narrow world view, as well as interactions with the exceptions, rather than the rule.

As of Monday, September 7, 1992, the class makeup will be returned to normal. You will no longer interfere with how your professors teach or run their classes, nor will you continue to restrict what the students might learn. To that end, we have begun the process of returning some of the classes you had eliminated in your efforts to keep the masses ignorant and dependent on you for their limited independence. I will warn you now, Albus. Do not continue to interfere with Crispin Snape’s personal or scholastic life. You won’t like the consequences should you hurt that child in any way whatsoever.

Sincerely,

Lucius Malfoy

Head, School Board of Governors

“Well that’s all shot to shite,” the old man muttered as he glared impotently at the letter sitting on his desk. “I’ll just have to figure out another way to get Harry away from all of those bad influences. Black and Lupin don’t seem to be putting in much effort to help me, which must mean that they’ve gone over to the other side, too. I still have that information about what they did during the first war, that I can use to get them to obey me. After all, they don’t want to spend time in Azkaban for the murders they committed, and I made sure that my hands were squeaky clean in all of that. I should call them up to my office after dinner tonight and see if they can be coerced into doing my bidding. It worked before; it shouldn’t take anything to regain my control over them again. As it’s Saturday, they shouldn’t have anything too pressing to keep them from meeting with me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” Theo said over the weekend. Draco had received a letter from his father, stating that the classes would be back to normal on Monday, so the kids were just lazing about in the Chamber with Tom and Severus. Sirius and Remus were up in the castle, keeping an eye on the old man and Potter.

“Only one thing?” the blond asked cheekily, grinning at his friend.

“Ha ha,” the brunet snarked back, his own lips curling in a small smile. “How can a bit of blood make you a parseltongue, Crispin? If that were possible, then all blood adoptions would add family magics to the kids, and we’d see more muggleborns with other talents.”

“It’s a fair question, uncle Tom,” the emerald eyed boy replied, looking at the Dark Lord curiously. “I wouldn’t think that adoption rituals would change anyone that much.”

“I agree that it would be incredibly difficult to pass on a genetic gift through the exchange of blood,” Riddle said softly. He looked at Severus for a moment, surprised at the calculating gleam in the other man’s ebon eyes. “You have something, Sev?”

“I do,” the younger man intoned with a sly grin. “I went back to the goblins after that talk on the train, and they were very forthcoming with information about the bitch. Turns out that her ancestry includes Herpo the Foul and the Sayres. Now, we definitely know that Herpo was a parselmouth, and there had been rumors for years that the Sayres also had the talent, although no one ever came forward to claim the honor. Salazar’s reputation being what it is, and the way that our corner of the magical world treats those with ‘Dark’ talents, I can understand their reluctance to exhibit a family trait. So Crispin’s understanding of parseltongue comes from her side of the family, and it’s reasonable to assume that, because of the excessive breeding with muggles and squibs, the talent only crops up very rarely. It’s just unfortunate that you can’t speak the serpent tongue, but I’ll not turn my nose up at any special skills you may have.”

“Well, that makes much more sense,” Nott agreed with a grin. “It also might explain why she’s the way she is, since Herpo was such an unpleasant person to be around. Mental instability is inherited, after all, and there’s no telling how many of her ancestors had gone ‘round the twist over the years.”

“Also explains her harridan of a sister,” Snape agreed with a moue of disgust. “That much effort put into looking ‘normal’ has to have some sort of history attached to it.”

“While I’m not too happy with the idea that I’d actually inherited more than my eye color from the incubator, I’m glad it’s a skill that I can really use. Maybe, someday, with a lot of work, I might learn to speak parseltongue as well, since I can understand it. It’s just a matter of being able to use my tongue to emulate the hissing and glottal sounds.

“Oh, before I forget, I was doing some investigations into our moving underground eventually, and I came up with some other things we can use in order to survive away from the outside world.” The raven haired preteen reached into his robes and pulled out a sheaf of parchment, handing it to Tom with a grin. Tapping the papers, he said, “In there is information on hydroponic gardens and grow lights and sunlamps. If we work to create a space that has access to the underground power lines, we can tap into those to power the lights and other things we’ll need to make sure we can grow our own food.

“We can research selective breeding programs so that we can develop livestock that won’t have a problem living in the artificial light, as long as we provide all the vitamins and nutrients necessary for their survival, that they would normally get from the sun. I also found something called an Akvoatomospheric water generator that can create at least 330,068 liters of water a year on average, in atmospheres with ninety-five percent humidity and at twenty five degrees Celsius. If we work to create separate communities and shopping districts, we could have a bunch of these littered about the caverns, making sure we have fresh water on hand at all times. As well, we'll need to make sure that the vent holes for the air purifiers remain clear of falling debris, so we'll need to work out shielding spells to repel leaves, sticks, dirt and any other detritus that might cover them up.

“Of course, we’ll just be stockpiling the resources for the moment, until the time when the shite metaphorically and physically hits the fan. I’m sure that, with the goblins’ cooperation, we’ll be able to live quite comfortably below ground, and will be able to last as long as possible before we might be able to go above ground once again. When the end comes, we won’t be able to use the electric cables anymore, so we’ll need to stockpile hundreds of batteries, and keep them in a temperature-controlled dark place. Fifteen degrees Celsius is the optimum temperature at which to store them, so we’ll have to create a temperature-controlled locker of sorts in which to keep them. In fact, I think we should move below ground as soon as our new home is ready; that way, we’ll be able to get settled and into a regular routine so when the end comes, we won’t be panicking because we’ve been thrown into a situation about which we know nothing.”

“Um, thanks, I guess,” Riddle replied, eyes blown wide in shock at the overload of information he’d just been handed. Severus snorted softly, vastly amused that the ‘Darkest’ Dark Lord in a very long time was caught completely flat-footed. “We’ll...ah...we’ll add it to the rest of the tasks we’ve set for ourselves.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, Sirius and Remus,” the headmaster boomed out cheerfully. “Welcome, my boys, welcome. Please have a seat. Lemon drop?”

“No, thanks, Albus,” the animagus declined with a wrinkled nose. “About what did you wish to speak to us?”

“Come now, Sirius,” the old man chided condescendingly. “Surely you can observe the niceties of taking tea with me?”

“We aren’t here voluntarily, headmaster,” Remus felt the need to break in, as it looked like Lupin-Black was about to blast Dumbledore into next week with his words. “We would like to enjoy the rest of our weekend with our family, if you don’t mind, so if you could please get on with it.”

“I’m not sure I appreciate the attitude I’ve been receiving from the two of you, ever since you became friends with Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy,” Albus snapped angrily. “There are things afoot of which you know very little, and I’ve been very patient up until now, waiting for you to get Harry Potter in line to do his Fate-sworn duty to the magical world. Now, the two of you need to bring him to heel so that I may prepare him for his destiny as the defeater of Voldemort. Only he is capable of ridding our world of that threat, and he needs to understand that his only purpose in this life is to save us.”

“Are you off your nut, old man?” Sirius asked incredulously, staring at the headmaster as if he’d grown three extra heads. “CRISPIN is a child, and is entitled to stay that way until he grows up. He’s not responsible for saving anyone, much less the entire wizarding world.”

“You will do as I require, or I will be speaking to Amelia Bones about the extracurricular activities both you and Lupin engaged in during the first war,” Dumbledore threatened through gritted teeth. “Now, I expect that child to be in my office every night, to take the lessons I will give him on Voldemort. He is to show up promptly at seven every evening, and he is to obey me implicitly. I also expect you to pull him away from those unsavory influences he’d been wallowing in since he was a toddler. He will no longer be allowed to consort with the Slytherins, and especially the Malfoys. Is that understood?”

Instead of cowing the two young men before him, as he had expected, Sirius doubled up with laughter, whilst Remus tried unsuccessfully to contain his own hilarity. It took Dumbledore drawing his wand and pointing it at the animagus for them to sober up rather quickly at the threat. Sirius carefully pulled a copy of the release Amelia had given him for his part in assassinating the elder Prewett twins, Caradoc Dearborn and Dorcas Meadowes. Remus held up his own copy of the same writ, and the old man stared at both pieces of paper, eyes bulging slightly in fear. “We’ve already had a chat with the Head of the DMLE about that very thing, headmaster,” Black growled lowly, a banked fire in his grey eyes. “We’ve provided enough evidence of your involvement in those deaths, that she’s very anxious to talk to you about them. I’m sure that Skeeter will be present for the interview, once I’ve told her that you threatened us. Now, if that’s all?”

Chapter 34

Notes:

Vampirelord43 pointed out a continuity error in this chapter that I've fixed. Many thanks, amigo.

September 15, 1992

Whizz Hard Books

129B Diagon Alley

London WC2H 0HG, UK

 

Gentlemen;

Enclosed, please find a writ from the Wizengamot, demanding that you cease and desist publishing any and all books, texts and manuscripts written by Judith Perky and containing any and all references to the entity Harry Potter, his alleged life and adventures, and any other fables or tales revolving around the life of the entity Harry Potter, until and unless the entity Harry Potter has given his explicit, written permission for the stories to be published. Be aware that, on behalf of the person who was formerly known as Harry Potter, I, as his attorney of record, have filed a lawsuit against your publishing company for a percentage of any and all funds, profits and sales of said books, earned by your publishing firm, to be forfeited to the Prince vaults, located in Gringotts UK, Number 100 Metallurgik Alley, London WC2H 0HG, no later than October 31, 1992, by the close of business. The amount will be determined at a meeting scheduled for Thursday, September 30^th 1992, at four fifteen in the offices of Malfoy, Gruber and Fisk, Attorneys at Law.

Additionally, you are prohibited from accepting any books, manuscripts or texts from anyone else wishing to publish stories about the entity Harry Potter. That you nor your clients have ever approached the entity Harry Potter for his permission violates several laws concerning profiting off of children, since the entity Harry Potter had been a fifteen month old infant at the time of his parents’ deaths. You are also to forfeit a percentage of any monies earned by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore when you do those of Judith Perky, as per the Wizengamot declaration. He had illegally assumed magical guardian status for the young man, bypassing the magical godfather contract that was in place and enacted by his assumed father, James Potter. Since it has been proven that the young man had, in fact, a living parent to whom custody should have gone, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had no rights at all to encouraging the publication of the tales, and is, himself, a party to a separate lawsuit concerning this issue, as is the author of record, Judith Perky.

Investigators will be sent from this office to conduct a check through your personnel and publishing records, to ensure that no other author has used the entity Harry Potter for their own profit. Any other authors or employees who have engaged in this theft from a minor will be added to the lawsuit against your firm, and will be responsible for compensating the entity Harry Potter. I would suggest that you warn your clients of the legal trouble they may be facing if they are, indeed, engaging in profiting off of a child, and encourage them to find other avenues from which to earn a living.

Sincerely,

Harvey Specter, Litigator

Gruber and Fisk, Attorneys at Law

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

September 15, 1992

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Drumnadrochit

Inverness IV63 6JS, UK

 

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore,

On behalf of the entity Harry Potter, and as his legal attorney, I have filed a lawsuit with the Wizengamot, demanding all funds of record that you had earned from sales of the fabricated books written about his life. Miss Perky had absolutely no access to the entity Harry Potter during his childhood, and as his illegally claimed magical guardian, you would have been required to give the woman permission for her fairy tales to be published and sold. Investigations by this office revealed many contracts with your signature, permitting her to write whatever struck her fancy about the entity Harry Potter, with a guarantee of a percentage of the profits going into your vaults. As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, you are fully aware of the laws against profiting off of minors, yet you violated them with impunity. That ends now.

Gringotts UK has also received a demand of forfeiture for those illegally obtained monies in your vaults, and will be transferring whatever was earned when you encouraged Miss Judith Perky to write those fabrications about the entity Harry Potter. Your actions have violated several laws prohibiting you from profiting off of a minor in any way, shape or form, and my law firm, Malfoy, Gruber and Fisk, has given them until the close of regular business on October 31, 1992 to address the issue.

If they fail to transfer the ill-gotten gains as instructed, the Wizengamot will proceed with the lawsuit, and we will be more than happy to fight this out in court to get just recompense for the entity Harry Potter, including compensatory and punitive damages for the harm you caused to the reputation and safety of the entity Harry Potter. Your desire to create a child hero behind whom the general wizarding populace would hide is reprehensible, and has caused untold stress to the child in question. This law office has taken a look at the ‘fan mail’ that the entity Harry Potter has received, and much of it borders on dangerously obsessive. To think that, because of the stories you’d bandied about regarding the entity Harry Potter’s survival and ‘defeat’ of the Dark Lord at fifteen months old, the entity Harry Potter has received no less that two thousand marriage proposals, four hundred fifty pledges of undying love, fifty-three offers to carry his child, and four thousand three hundred ninety two threats to his personal safety and his life. Many were from followers of the Dark Lord Voldemort, and still others were the sick, twisted desires of adults with a predilection toward children.

Amongst all those rather disturbing missives were letters from children, along with stuffed toys and other childhood items, telling a fifteen month old child that he was their hero. That they all wanted to meet him and ride the dragons with him. That they wanted to hide in his arms and let him protect them. Many of these letters were heartbreaking, and we will be investigating those families for potential abuse and neglect. All of these messages, letters, notes and other miscellanea are in a separate vault, sent there by an illegal redirect you had put on the entity Harry Potter’s mail. You have until the end of business on October 31, 1992 to respond appropriately. Failure to abide by the Wizengamot’s writ will result in punitive and compensatory damages to be added onto the tally which you owe the entity Harry Potter.

We understand that you were just looking out for his safety, as you saw it. However, to allow the child to languish in the muggle world, without the young man ever knowing his history or heritage, is appalling, and to subject him to the abuse he’d suffered for the five years he was trapped with those awful relatives is monstrous. You had no right whatsoever to place the entity Harry Potter with his mother’s MUGGLE relatives, when there were plenty of magical relatives who would have been more suitable to raise him, and would have been honored to be chosen for his care.

Heed this warning well, Albus Dumbledore, if you don’t wish to be bankrupted.

Sincerely,

Harvey Specter, Litigator

Gruber and Fisk, Attorneys at Law

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

September 15, 1992

Miss Judith Perky

58 Pont Street, Knightsbridge

London SW1X 0AE, UK

 

Greetings Miss Perky,

As the legal representative of the entity Harry Potter, and on behalf of said entity, we have filed a lawsuit in the Wizengamot, demanding a percentage of all profits you’d made from the sale of the fabrications you’d written about the entity Harry Potter, to be determined in a meeting scheduled for Thursday, September 30^th 1992, at four fifteen in the offices of Malfoy, Gruber and Fisk, Attorneys at Law. Your publisher, Whizz Hard Books, will be present at this meeting, as will a representative of Gringotts and an arbitrator from the Ministry Law offices. You have until the close of business on October 31, 1992 to comply. We know that you’d marked the books as ‘fiction’, but because they were about an actual person, and were used to bolster your flagging career at the expense of a little boy’s safety and comfort, and because you never approached the child or his representatives for permission to write these stories, the entity Harry Potter has decided to request his fair due for using his name, likeness and any other representations of him, to profit from the wizarding public at large.

As well, an injunction has been filed against you, prohibiting you from continuing to profit from the entity Harry Potter without his express written permission. What this means is that you will need to meet with the entity Harry Potter any time you wish to publish another book about his ‘adventures’ and he will have final approval of whatever the stories contain. As well, we will work out a contract ensuring that he receives a percentage of the sales of each book, the amount to be decided at the September 30^th meeting.

You thought that, because he lived in the muggle world, you wouldn’t have to get his permission, or the permission of his minders to write these outlandish tales, and normally, you would be right. However, because of your stories, the entity Harry Potter has received an abundance of disturbing ‘fan mail’ from all sorts of unhinged individuals. Those stories have put his safety and, quite possibly his life, in danger, and you are wholly responsible for this. We will be asking for punitive damages for your thoughtless unconcern for the safety of a child, since your fables have made him seem and sound larger than life. Perhaps, in future, you’ll endeavor to get permission from some of your victims before you glorify their lives in print for all to consume.

Sincerely,

Harvey Specter, Litigator

Gruber and Fisk, Attorneys at Law

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was chaos in three different locations around London and Inverness as those letters reached their recipients. In the headmaster’s office, many whirling, smoking, chiming gadgets all fell silent as they were shattered in a flurry of furious venting. The old man was screaming incoherently as he razed his office, destroying the devices that he’d set up to monitor his puppet, who had somehow slipped its strings before the age of eleven. “GOD’S DAMN IT!” he bellowed loudly, startling the everloving hell out of Fawkes, who flamed away to hide in Severus’ personal rooms. Crispin and his friends cried out as the bird suddenly appeared, having been engaged in debating the information they were studying for their potions essay. Heaving a gusty sigh of relief, the emerald eyed brunet stood and walked over to the agitated bird, stroking his breast to calm him down. The firebird’s head went underneath the boy’s chin and snuggled in, crooning softly in relief as his nerves were finally soothed.

“I wonder what that’s about?” Draco murmured to Theo, who could only shrug as he and his school mates watched the interaction. Bird and boy communed for a few moments more before, with a malicious grin, the raven haired preteen turned and looked at his compatriots, an evil glint in his viridian orbs.

“Apparently, uncle Lucius has finally succeeded in getting legal documentation to stop that stupid woman writing those ridiculous books about me, and Dumbledore was caught in the crossfire.”

“Dum…?” Draco started, then he sagged as he realized what that meant. “He’s Chief Warlock, and he violated the laws against profiting from minors. Figures that his rottenness had more far-reaching consequences.”

In an office at 129B Diagon Alley, a ponderous man was reaming his editorial staff, waving a thick sheaf of parchment in the air to emphasize his point. “What the bloody hell were you lot thinking?” Charles Foster Kane, owner and publisher of Whizz Hard Books, bellowed loudly. Everyone flinched away from his ire as he continued, nearly breathing fire in his rage. “Didn’t any of you do your due diligence and ensure that this stupid bitch and our publishing house had permission from the boy’s legal guardians to print all those ridiculous fairy tales?”

“She...she had a copy of the paperwork granting Albus Dumbledore magical guardianship over Harry Potter,” Bernard Humbert, editor-in-chief stammered fearfully. “We made sure to make several copies for our records, ensuring that we weren’t doing anything illegal.” At the supremely skeptical look from his boss, he continued, chin up and a look of righteous indignation in his eyes. “It’s Albus Dumbledore! Who would question the defeater of the Dark Lord Grindelwald, for Merlin’s sake?!”

“Apparently, the boy everyone knew as Harry Potter would,” someone from the crowd said. Everyone snickered, but that humor dried up faster than a puddle in the desert at the grim look from their boss.

“We’ll be lucky to escape with only monetary damages assessed against us,” he growled lowly. “We could lose the company and our jobs because of this. I want you lot to scour every file we have to make sure that we aren’t supporting other idiots who decided that fairy tales about the Boy Who Lived would be a good thing to write.”

In a rather lavish home in the affluent Knightsbridge neighborhood in London, a woman was bawling her eyes out as she stared at the letter from Crispin’s lawyer. “Albus Dumbledore told me it was perfectly fine for me to write those stories about Harry Potter,” she wailed to her husband, who was looking at his wife as if he didn’t really know her, his trunk sitting by his feet. “He was the boy’s magical guardian, for Merlin’s sake! Who else would have been able to grant me permission for those books?”

“That boy was never Harry Potter,” her spouse snarled angrily as he continued to pack away all the things he’d brought with him to the marriage. “Albus fucking Dumbledore is a big, fat liar and conman, and the fact that you and everyone else falls all over themselves to bow and scrape to him is disgusting. I’m going to visit Malfoy’s law firm and file for a dissolution of this bonding, and I expect to receive at least half of your earnings, since they were gained during our marriage. Oh, and good luck against Lord Malfoy. I hear he’s a piranha in court.”

Chapter 35

Notes:

Thank you to RandomEnglishMajor for the idea near the end of the chapter. I really appreciate all the love, support, and inspiration you all provide me.

“Cornelius,” Albus Dumbledore trumpeted as he sailed into the Minister for Magic’s office, bypassing the deeply offended office assistant as if she didn’t even exist. Fudge was in a meeting with his Senior Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge at the moment, and she looked at the elderly man with narrowed, angry eyes.

“Hem hem,” she cleared her throat importantly, trying to stare down the centenarian. Blue eyes turned and looked at her as if she were a squashed bug on an automobile windscreen, and she puffed up like the bullfrog she resembled, mouth open and angry invective spewing from it. “How dare you interrupt a very important meeting between the Minister and myself,” she nearly shrieked. “You are merely the headmaster of our magic school, and a person of no importance whatsoever. Whatever it is with which you have need to speak to Minister Fudge cannot possibly be more important than our conversation, and I’ll thank you to leave at once!”

“Now see here, woman,” the old man nearly bellowed, equally furious and affronted at the dressing down of a mere Ministry peon. “I am Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and the recipient of an Order of Merlin, First Class. I am definitely more important in the grand scheme of things than a mere toady. Now be off with you, before I file charges for libel.” Before the confrontation could devolve into violence, as Umbridge’s temper soared through the roof, the Minister stepped in, halting the hostilities rather effectively.

“Dumbledore, she is my Senior Undersecretary and an important member of my cabinet. She is not a mere peon. And Dolores, this man has been instrumental in getting some of those restrictive creature laws passed. I want you both to keep a civil tongue in your heads for the moment; Albus wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. As for you, Dumbledore, normally I’d make you schedule an appointment, but as I’ve said, it must be important for you to abandon your ivory tower for the moment. What do you want?”

“Thank you, Cornelius,” the headmaster said with a smug smirk shot at Umbridge, who sat fuming in her chair. “The Boy Who Lived is, at this very moment, being subverted away from his destiny by Severus Snape and the Slytherins. I need you to use your authority as Minister to overturn that sham of a custody agreement so that I may wrest our Savior from those evil clutches and return him to the loving bosom of his true family.”

“So, you want me to engage in custodial interference and help you kidnap Severus Snape’s son?” the Minister queried incredulously. “Is that what I’m hearing?”

“No,” Dumbledore snapped, aggrieved. “I want you to sever those illegal ties that my potions professor had forced on an innocent child. That boy is Harry James Potter. I was there for his birth, and Lily often brought him to the Order meetings. All I’m asking is for you to vacate the custody agreement and return him to his mother’s sister’s house in the muggle world, where he belongs.”

“Hem hem,” Dolores interjected, a smarmy smile on her face and avarice in her eyes. “You know very well that it is illegal to place a magical orphan with muggles, whether or not they’re related. What you’re asking Cornelius to do is against Ministry law. However, if we place him with someone magical who is devoted to the Ministry, well…”

“That’s...actually a good idea, Dolores,” Cornelius cheered happily, clapping his hands. “To raise the Chosen One within the bosom of the Ministry would surely show the people that they have no need to worry about anything; that the Ministry has nothing but their best interests at heart.”

“And with whom would you place Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore questioned archly, his temper reaching critical mass rather quickly at the roadblock his puppet Minister was quickly throwing in the way.

“Why, our most accomplished citizen, and a pureblood to boot,” Umbridge chirped with a girlish giggle. “None other than Lucius Malfoy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I have got to get those two out of office,” Albus growled to himself as he paced around his domain. “The only question is, how?” After hours of fruitless argument between himself and the Minister for Magic, Dumbledore finally withdrew his request and stormed out of the building, his angry magic knocking into passersby as he fled as gracefully as he could. Many eyes followed his egress, with one pair narrowed suspiciously. Turning, Amelia Bones made her way to the Minister’s office, where she barged in without so much as a by-your-leave. The secretary didn’t say a single word to the woman, knowing that look on the DMLE head’s face and the hell it would bring down upon someone’s head. She was just glad it wasn’t hers.

He was wearing a circular path in his carpet when the floo flared, and the face of the Auror department head came into view. “Albus Dumbledore!” she yowled loudly, scaring several years of life out of the old man as he jumped a foot in the air with an unmanly squeal.

Spinning in place, he stared at Bones’ infuriated countenance and sighed heavily. What fresh hell is about to be visited upon me now? he thought resignedly as he knelt in front of the fireplace. “Amelia!” he said with forced cheer. “How nice to see you, my dear. What may I do for you this afternoon?”

“You can start by telling me why you felt the need to interfere with Crispin Snape’s placement with his father?” was snapped out, making the old man flinch back slightly at the hostility she was showing.

“The boy’s name is Harry Potter,” Dumbledore said tiredly. “I was there when he was born, and I was able to hold the little fellow when Lily and James brought him to Order meetings. I do not know what sort of fables Severus has been telling the lad, but he is not Snape’s son.”

“When Severus Snape took Crispin to Berrie Navient for the change of custody, he showed proof of his claims that the boy is his child,” Bones snarled, huffing so hard that the flames fluttered. “She also insisted on a blood test for verification, which Gringotts was happy to provide, since blood had to be given at the bank to put Crispin on Severus’ accounts. That boy is Crispin Severus Snape, and you need to stop interfering in his life. I’m warning you, old man; if Severus brings charges of custodial interference against you, I’ll not stand in his way. In fact, I’ll gleefully help him along on his quest to excise your interference from his life and the life of his son. Back off, Albus, if you know what’s good for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mr. Snape, I need to talk to you,” said a very unwelcome voice from behind the raven haired twelve year old. Sighing heavily, he turned and looked at the Carrion-disguised Lily Potter with something akin to revulsion. Mud-brown eyes narrowed at the look of disgust, and she strode forward a few steps, stopping right in front of the boy. “I’ve had about all I can stand of that disrespect, young man,” she snapped angrily. Tom was around Crispin’s shoulders at the moment; Draco had a funny feeling about his friend going through the halls alone, and since no one else was able to accompany him at the moment, he loaned his ‘familiar’ to the beleaguered boy. Crispin had given Dobby the day off; the little elf had done so much for the boy that he felt his paladin deserved some time to himself.

Hissing in his ear comforted the Prince heir as he stood glaring at the incubator, but that feeling fled when the woman reached out and grabbed the boy’s shoulder in a claw-like grip, shaking him as she continued to scream in his face. Enraged at the sudden attack, Riddle launched himself at the woman, sinking his fangs into her arm and pumping his venom into her. Since he was a magical human ‘dressed’ as a snake, he was able to control the type of venom and its lethality, so to keep Crispin from receiving the backlash for her ‘accidental’ death, he only injected the neurotoxin, and a very small amount of it.

She shrieked, bringing other professors on the run, who had been teaching classes at the time, and several of their students also rushed out at the commotion. Covidia was frozen on the floor, paralyzed by the toxin. There was a small trace of foam around her lips, which were turning a pale shade of purple as she struggled to breathe. Severus, who had also heard the scream and was carrying antivenin especially for the African hairy bush viper, injected her with the anti-toxin before instructing a couple of the professors to take her to Pomfrey. Minerva refused, as did Flitwick, since the both of them knew who she was, so it was left up to Sinistra and Burbage to get the woman to the hospital wing.

“What happened here?” McGonagall asked as she stepped up to the trembling child, Flitwick mere steps behind her. He had put up a localized silencing charm after shooing the children back to class.

“She told me that she needed to talk to me, and when I turned around, I couldn’t help the look of hatred I gave her. She was not pleased and grabbed my arm and started to shake me while she yelled at me. Harry took offense to her assault and bit her, injecting her with a little bit of his venom.” Though Filius and the deputy headmistress were introduced to Tom the previous school year, Crispin was reluctant to reveal the Dark Lord’s animagus form to anyone he didn’t fully trust.

“Are you all right, son?” the Potions Master asked as he dropped to his knees in front of the boy, pulling him into a squeezing hug. The older man could feel the trembling of the preteen, and his thirst for revenge ratcheted up another notch.

“Yeah,” the Prince heir whispered, then said, “Yeah,” more strongly as he wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck. It was a few moments before Crispin got his equilibrium back, and he stepped away from his father, smiling shakily at the older man. Standing, Snape spun and glared at Minerva, who stepped back in momentary startlement at the banked rage in those dark eyes. “We need to get her out of here,” he hissed menacingly, “before I end up in Azkaban for a justifiable homicide.” Pronouncement made, he stormed away, leaving minor chaos in his wake.

“He’s right, you know,” Crispin added before he went about his own business. “The longer she’s here, the more endangered I am. And it’s not just me; she’s endangering my friends and those idiot Gryffindors who keep trying to interfere with my friendships. Make no mistake; we’re all ready to deal with the Gryffs in our own way if something’s not done to curtail their obnoxious behavior.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys and their friends were sitting at the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall during the study hall portion of their day, working on the homework for both potions and transfiguration. They would chat with each other and share observations on whatever they were writing, and it was a calm, peaceful session that was quickly interrupted by a very loud, “Harry, you really should let me proofread your essays. Come on over to the Gryffindor table so that we can work on them together.” The raven haired boy’s head lifted as emerald eyes glared death at the interloper, who was standing right behind Theo and Greg, who had opted to sit with their compatriots during study hall. Dumbledore had tried to get them to sit at their own tables, but McGonagall came by and chivvied the headmaster out of the hall, admonishing him on his continued efforts to interfere in Crispin’s life.

“I don’t need your help, Granger,” the Prince heir growled lowly, eyes flicking to the redheaded girl standing next to her. “I certainly don’t need to abandon my friends for you lot. Now push off, before I call a proctor and have them kick you out of study hall.”

“That’s it, mister,” the bushy haired girl snapped, enraged, stomping her foot and with hands fisted on her waist. “I am so much smarter than anyone else here, and the headmaster has asked me to make sure that you’re getting through your classes. He told me that you needed help, since you grew up around such Dark influences. My job is to make sure that you’re educated properly in the Light, and I’ll not have you ruin my scholastic career by indulging in these temper tantrums.”

“Miss Granger,” came a dark, smooth voice from behind the girls, and both jumped and squealed in fright. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for disrupting the scheduled study session, and a week’s detention with your head of house. As for you, Miss Weasley, if I should see you over here again, bothering my son, I’ll file a restraining order against you, which will prevent you from entering any classroom in which my son is sitting, as well as keep you from eating in the Great Hall. Now, return to your seats, and don’t give me a reason to fulfill my promise.”