Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire

Chapter Forty-One
It Could Only Get Worse

Fawkes chirped at the three men that interrupted his mid-afternoon kip. Several minutes after the pleasantries and how-are-you-feeling-now-that-you’re-not-deads were done, Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, fingers steepled as he watched one of the others pace from bookshelf to astrolobe. The third sat quietly, a pleasant, patient smile on his face.

“Dumbledore, Jasmine is not going to like this. I tried to tell you in my letter, that she won’t want me around.”

“Sirius, Jasmine may not like it, but she will do as she’s told. At this point, she needs protection and you gentlemen are capable of giving it to her. With the relocation from Grimmauld Place, you both need a home and she has a very large house. We all have mutual needs and ways of fulfilling those needs. Jasmine may be upset, but she will accept it,” said Dumbledore firmly.

Remus Lupin spoke up for the first time in twenty minutes, “Professor, I think Sirius has concerns other than Miss Swan being upset about having bodyguards. The problems may be more,” he paused to find a delicate phrase, “personal.”

Dumbledore gave Remus a slightly amused ‘I’m-aware-of-the-problem’ look, which Sirius missed. The younger man quieted. Sirius flashed a grateful look at Remus, though inwardly was wincing. If he explained why Jasmine might be upset, he would have to reveal that, despite Dumbledore’s request that he stay in dog form while with Jasmine last spring, he hadn’t done so, thus causing all sorts of problems.

“I am aware that Jasmine discovered your true identity, Sirius. She has explained to me that she is displeased and very disappointed that I kept information from her.”

“Did she say anything else?” asked Sirius, clearly uncomfortable.

“She only said that after she had become very attached to her dog, that she was deeply upset to discover that he was not as he appeared. She did not say how she made that discovery, though I can only imagine that it was a shock.”

Missing a step in his pacing, Sirius stammered, “Yes, well… I can tell you that she won’t be happy to see me again. I tried to write to her, but she tore my letters up and threw a frying pan at me – and even that was a long time ago. She won’t want me there.”

“Jasmine no longer has a choice, Sirius,” Dumbledore’s implication was clear – frying pan or no, Sirius didn’t have a choice either and Remus was going to go along for the ride.

“Severus won’t be thrilled that we’re staying there,” mused Lupin.

“Severus isn’t pleased about the entire situation, but he does understand the necessity of having Jasmine and Arielle under twenty- four hour guard. It is not possible for him to do it, as he has rejoined the Death Eaters.”

“But does he know that you’ve asked us to do the guarding?” probed Sirius.

“Not yet, but he will by lunchtime. I am sure he will object, but when faced with fait accompli, he will accept it, in time. I expect you all to act like adults and remember the cause, Jasmine’s sensibilities and Arielle’s presence. I do not have time to deal with squabbling children.” Dumbledore’s tone clearly stated that he was finished discussing dissent. Tossing gray powder into the hearth, Dumbledore called “Mopsy, we are going to my great-granddaughter’s house now. Please meet us there in one hour with the luggage sitting in my office.”

The men left the grounds together though Sirius transformed into the dog before they left the office – he was still wanted by the Ministry who still had no idea that he wasn’t dead or guilty. Dumbledore said that he was working on changing Fudge’s mind and official documents, however a change of Ministers would probably happen faster. While walking through Hogsmeade, Dumbledore inquired after Lupin’s health and informed him that Snape’s associate Kiaya would still be brewing the lycanthropy potion and would, on occasion, be able to deliver it rather than having to owl it as she had in the past. She would also be delving deeper into researching ways to make it more effective.

“Let’s see if she can make it taste better, if possible,” begged Lupin with a pleasant chuckle. It turned into a small grimace as one woman crossed the street when she recognized him. That he was a werewolf was no secret – thanks to Snape.

“You will wish to stay close to the house most of the time. Prejudice has not been eliminated here, even if there is treatment for your condition.” He looked at Remus and said in a slightly regretful tone, “I do think that, despite your potion, it would be a good idea to disallow you entrance to the main house when you are in your more furry form even though you are the most civilized wolf I have ever met, don’t you agree?” When Remus nodded, Dumbledore continued, “Sirius, you and Remus will walk Jasmine and Arielle to and from school, as you were accustomed to doing.” The dog nodded. “I will occasionally ask one or both of you to travel in relation to the business at hand but I must remind you to be discreet about where you are staying.”

Arriving at the gate, Dumbledore politely addressed the twenty foot tall wall of flowering shrubs, “Jasmine, we are here.”

“That’s new,” said Sirius after transforming, though it was a question.

Dumbledore explained, “There is a recharmed foe glass inside. Because Jasmine can’t see over the hawthorns, we needed to devise a method way to let her know who approached.” As Dumbledore spoke, Faust soared over the bushes and settled on his shoulder for a quick, affectionate nuzzle before returning to the house, whistling his approval to the women inside.

The old wizard waved his wand and the plants again disentangled themselves to allow entry. “Only Jasmine’s and my wands will release the hawthorns. Severus’s will allow him to exit the yard, though not enter it. The hedgerow will attack anyone else – do beware. I will ask Professor Sprout to train it to accept yours as well, Remus, and yours, when you choose to get another wand, Sirius.”

As they walked up the path, Remus examined the Hecate’s Hawthorns – it had lovely pink flowers, deep green spiky leaves and nine - inch thorns. He lifted a hand to stroke one of the flowers and the branch reached out to him. Quickly, he tucked his hand back into his pocket.

Dumbledore looked at him, “If a teacher told you boys something, one of you always did have to try it yourselves, just to check, didn’t you?”

Remus grinned and shrugged.

Dumbledore smiled benignly, “Faust will vet everyone trying to enter; he will not allow anyone that he is not familiar with. His alarm cry will set the hawthorns into attack mode and Jasmine, Severus and I will all be alerted. The Five Wall Ward has been strengthened to disallow all animal life with the notable exceptions of Fawkes, Faust and Florentine.”

Sirius murmured, “Say that ten times, fast.”

Dumbledore ignored Remus’s answering grin and only looked over the rim of his glasses at Sirius before continuing, “Professor Flitwick will come down with Professor Sprout in a few days to give you free access through the charms and plants in your wolf and dog forms.”

Remus’s regretful nod was ignored when the front door opened.

Jasmine stepped into the doorway, Kiaya was just behind her, boxes stacked around her feet. The blonde was the only one to hear Jasmine’s almost silent gasp and see her hand clench the door jam.

The three men stopped at the foot of the stairs, looking up.

Kiaya touched Jasmine’s shoulder lightly. “I should go,” she offered.

Barely moving her lips and staring unbelievingly down at Sirius, “I wish you wouldn’t,” begged Jasmine.

“All right. I’ll wait inside,” she murmured. When Jasmine nodded, Kiaya flashed a worried smile at Professor Dumbledore and retreated into the house.

“Good afternoon, Professor Grandpa,” said Jasmine, while blocking the doorway. She blinked, sure her eyes were deceiving her. Several blinks later, he was still there, walking slowly toward her. Knowing her mouth was hanging open at the sight of Sirius Black, in the flesh, she snapped it closed.

He was here, he was back, he was… solid… alive.

“Hello, Jasmine,” said Dumbledore, looking up to her, “I have brought your houseguests. They will be with you until this matter can be adequately settled. You remember Remus Lupin.”

She nodded but did not break her gaze. Remus’s friendly greeting was ignored.

“You also know Sirius Black. He will also be staying here, for your protection,” said Dumbledore.

Sirius’s eyes looked hungry as he gazed at her. Jasmine was consumed with emotions that she couldn’t name – all but one, anger. Looking into his grey eyes, all of the anger that she’d felt, every tear she’d cried welled up. She didn’t know how or why or when, but he was back and she loved him. And she hated him for being a lying son of a bitch who made her feel so good then just… left and then died! She swallowed. He died. She saw his ghost just days ago. She saw… something. No, it was his ghost. Moody said he was dead. The newspapers said he was dead. Dumbledore even said he was dead. She’d seen his ghost. She’d accepted that he was dead. Who was this man who looked exactly like her… truant dog… her delusory lover… her something. She was petrified as thoughts and emotions tumbled and raced.

“No,” she whispered. Yes! It was him. He was alive; he was here. Damn it.

“‘No’, you don’t believe that Sirius is actually alive or ‘no’, you don’t want him here?” asked Dumbledore with deceptive calm.

Jasmine shook her head then looked at Dumbledore. “No, both! Yes, I don’t want him here – no, no! I don’t want either one, but especially not him!”

Dumbledore challenged, “No? Then you will immediately pack your belongings and move into the school. You will have to tutor Arielle, since neither of you will be allowed to leave your rooms for any reason. Don’t bother to pack any of your supplies, though, there simply isn’t enough room for your loom. There could be no magical work done, either, since the space would have to be Quelled so that any magical intrusion would be known. Also, you should be aware that Peeves has a penchant for unwinding yarn balls and stringing webs for the unwary to walk into. He would probably take apart any knitting you have going to do that, as well. Of course your mother and grandmother will need to be informed.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“Yes, Jasmine, I would.”

The headache that had disappeared earlier returned with a dull throb. Hungrily she took in all of the changes in Sirius – the beginnings of a beard, eyes that had darkened and deepened. He looked as though he’d been to hell several times and was determined not to go back again.

He took a step toward her.

She took one back, shaking her head, “No,” she whispered again.

“I told you that I’d be back,” he said quietly. His storm-cloud eyes mirrored the promise.

“Back from the dead?” Her head jerked and she looked at Dumbledore in terror. “It’s an inferius!”

“No, Jasmine,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Never dead. Simply… displaced. Sirius is very much alive and always has been.”

“But…”

“Alive.”

Sirius was alive. Joy battled with panic. Panic won. She jerked her gaze from his to Lupin’s, then to Dumbledore and back again. Jasmine didn’t want him there, she would do anything to keep him away but couldn’t think of anything but the last time he kissed her. Her voice cracked as she attacked, pointing first to Lupin, then to Sirius, “That one’s a werewolf. The other is just a dog.”

“They are staying.” His tone brooked no refusal.

Knowing she was defeated, she snarled, “Fine, they can stay since I clearly have no other choice – but neither one is human. They’re both animals and animals stay in the barn!” She whirled around, slamming the door as she ran inside. The lock shot home by itself.

Kiaya had a cup of tea ready for Jasmine when she bolted through the kitchen archway. She stayed silent, not wanting to upset her newfound friend any further but not exactly sure that she ought to get involved.

The redhead tossed herself into a chair, glaring at Kiaya, “Stay a virgin, darling. Then you won’t have to deal with things like… him!” she spat.

Kiaya sat at the table. She asked quietly, “What happened?”

“That bastard is back and I have to let him stay here because Dumbledore thinks I’m too weak to be able to protect myself! Instead, I get a lying, cheating, murdering, cowardly, should-be-dead, son of a bitch dog in my house! I’ll probably be arrested by the Ministry for harboring a dead fugitive!”

Kiaya was confused but silent, waiting out the storm. Since she hadn’t sent an owl to Hogwarts, she was stuck anyway. She thought she’d just make herself as useful as possible and try to calm Jasmine down. Jasmine was so consumed by her rage that she didn’t see the worry or confusion in the younger woman’s green eyes.

Jasmine glared at the door and felt emotions, buried but never reconciled, batter her. The embarrassment of the mis-sent letter flooded her cheeks with red. The anguish felt at the news of his death made her fingers curl into her palms. At the forefront was the rage of his desertion that horrible summer night after that boy had been killed at Hogwarts. She nursed the mortification and feelings of betrayal after that night… the night he’d taken advantage of her – and she disavowed even the slightest responsibility for her own actions. He was at fault, without him, she’d have been happily puttering about through life – because of him, she’d been turned upside down.

Outside, the three men stared at the door for a moment. Sirius kicked the bottom stair, swearing under his breath.

Remus gave a wry smile. “That was fun,” he joked lamely.

“Hmm. How very interesting,” said Dumbledore, giving Sirius an appraising glance. Slipping his wand from his pocket, the old wizard walked up the stairs. He wordlessly touched the wand to the lock of the door; it swung open with a small creak.

Both women looked up as the men filed in. Jasmine’s bright blue eyes flared. Pride and anger quashed the small flame of joy she felt at seeing Sirius. She stood to confront the men again. “I thought I said…” she started venomously.

“Sirius and Remus are not animals, Jasmine. Mr. Lupin is a werewolf. He is still human, with a disease,” said Dumbledore.

“Fine, he can stay in the house when he’s human. When he’s not, he’ll have to be in a cage.”

“Treatment renders him harmless, Jasmine, though I’m sure Mr. Lupin will consent to sleeping in the barn when he is in his wolf form?” Dumbledore said, while looking at Lupin, who nodded.

Jasmine shuddered in impotent rage. She spoke with a distinct snarl, “Oh, I’m sure that will be just fine.” The emphasis she put on the last two words indicated that she was neither convinced nor satisfied with the arrangement. She convinced herself that the attraction she felt for him was simply an illusion – a leftover from his letters and ruthlessly quashed it. He had to stay away from her, though, just in case. There was no way she’d let him get near her again. Pointing with a sharp jut of her chin to Sirius, she said, “He’s a dog all the time, though. He stays in the barn.”

“Jasmine…” Dumbledore warned, in a tone he reserved only for his children.

“Dumbledore, I’ll stay in the barn. It won’t be the first time,” said Sirius quietly. He looked at Jasmine’s feet and said nothing else.

“You should be in the house.”

She quashed all logic and the desire to run her hands over his shoulders and beg him to kiss her again. She glared and shot back, “There isn’t room for them.”

“I had two children with a bedroom for each in this house. That means that you have one spare room plus the attic bedroom if the gentlemen would care to wrangle Albert into the storage room, as well as the weaver’s workroom with its daybed. The table was made to fit five generations of this family and there are reading nooks both up and downstairs to retreat to, if the workroom and your bedroom are not enough. There is room.”

Desperately, Jasmine pointed an accusing finger at Remus Lupin, “What about him?” she demanded, “he’s a werewolf! He’s dangerous! You really want him here, near Arielle – near me?”

“Mr. Lupin is a werewolf, not a lethifold. There is a treatment for his condition. In fact, young Miss Roundtree here has been making that potion for Remus for quite some time now.”

Kiaya waved lamely, surprised that the discussion was going on at all in front of her, much less that she was being dragged into it. She gulped. Lupin was here – one of the werewolves! She’d never actually met one of her test subjects… er clients, before. She had really hoped to keep it that way. Putting on a brave face, which she was sure looked more like a lame grin, she retreated further into her chair, hoping to escape further notice. Dumbledore’s next words laid waste to her hope, though.

“It is my hope that she will also be able to look further into ways of improving it, when she is not being called upon to teach.”

Kiaya was surprised to hear Dumbledore’s words. Of course she was researching the thing. She didn’t like it, but she was certainly doing it. And now, it appeared she she’d be working even closer with Lupin than ever before. Exactly what she never wanted. Forcing herself to smile as pleasantly as possible and eager to try to make peace in the room, she abandoned her own distaste and the hope that she’d be ignored and approached Lupin with her hand out. “Hello, I’m Kiaya Roundtree. It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Lupin. I suppose we’ll be seeing each other a lot.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’ve wanted to thank you for your help in person for quite some time.”

Kiaya’s smile was brief. When their hands parted and Kiaya sneaked a glance at Jasmine, the other woman’s eyes were glittering and her lips were pressed together. Quickly she added “I look forward to working with your blood when it’s a bit fresher than after it’s gone through the post, Mr. Lupin, I’ve never been able to experiment with a live werewolf before.”

Dumbledore chuckled, Lupin choked but Sirius was so absorbed in Jasmine that he didn’t hear a word. Jasmine was glaring at all of them.

Kiaya’s cheeks flamed when she realized what she’d said and she stammered to explain, “No! I mean, in a jar. I mean, the blood in a jar. To see how the potion affects the cells so I can make it better. After you give it. Willingly. But not much. Just a little in a dish because I have to make them larger. To see. To study. I don’t want lots of werewolf cells being really big on the desk. That would be bad. So just a little. Please?” She looked at Lupin, who was chuckling now and Jasmine who had stopped glaring long enough to have a look of puzzlement at her new friend’s witterings. Kiaya moaned in embarrassment and said quietly, “I’ll just hush now.”

She felt faint when Dumbledore rescued her from her own mortification. He introduced her to Sirius Black.

“The…the...” she stammered, looking to Dumbledore. Was he insane? She recalled a newspaper article from a bit ago – claiming Sirius Black was dead. She blinked in confusion.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Black said, “but I didn’t do it, nor have I ever been dead. I’m perfectly safe.”

Jasmine snorted.

“Well, mostly,” he amended gracelessly. “The Ministry is still after me, so, if you could conveniently forget that I’m here, I would appreciate it.”

Worried, Kiaya glanced again at Dumbledore and asked quietly, “Will you do a Memory Charm, then?”

“No, Kiaya. I trust your discretion. We all must trust each other in this war,” he replied. Fear of Memory Charms was common; Dumbledore didn’t like doing them if it wasn’t necessary.

Biting her lip, Kiaya nodded and escaped behind Jasmine in the guise of picking up her teacup. She was relieved that no one would be poking about in her head, changing things.

Dumbledore smiled and stepped into the breech. “Jasmine, because adding two more people to the household will be a strain on your time, a house-elf will be coming shortly with the bags. If you would like her to, she will stay for the duration.”

“I don’t need…” Jasmine retorted but stopped speaking when she felt a small touch on her shoulder. She looked back to see Kiaya giving her a pointed look that bespoke luxury and more time to do what she’d rather be doing instead of cleaning. “The elf can stay,” she allowed, grudgingly.

Relieved smiles passed over the three men. She wasn’t happy about any of it and there would be many rough patches, but she was allowing them to stay. They would work out the rules later.

Jasmine refused to look at Sirius. She wouldn’t admit that allowing them to stay had anything to do with the knot in her stomach or the tingling in her chest. It had nothing to do with Sirius feeling so right in the house, like he belonged there and she desperately wanted to trust him. Nor would she say that his well-brushed hair and beard made him look almost civilized and the jeans and black tee-shirt that fit him so perfectly put a sexy edge on that civilization. That his gray eyes haunted her dreams and her fingers ached to stroke through his fur, hair, along this smooth skin of his muscled back, had nothing to do with her choice to allow them in her home. That he was alive and she’d not waste another chance with him was completely irrelevant. No, she wouldn’t even acknowledge it to herself. She hid her longing and joy under layers of embarrassment, shame and resentment. Instead, Jasmine told herself that they were there because she refused to give up her home and live in fear of Voldemort. She wouldn’t be swayed by Sirius again – alive or dead. That was all.

A call through the mirror by the door jarred her from her musings. It was Severus saying that he had better things to do than wait any longer for Miss Roundtree’s convenience. Dumbledore excused himself to open the hawthorns and warn him of the houseguests.

Several silent minutes later, Severus strode in, robes billowing behind. Stopping in front of Sirius he snarled, “Life was so much more pleasant when you were dead. This irritating turn of events is most unfortunate.” He leaned in close to Sirius’s face. “Therefore one reason to kill you is all I need, Black. Just one. One more tear on Jasmine’s face, or even a sigh from Arielle indicating that you’re not being a good little doggie is all it will take for me to forget that Dumbledore says that you’re a good guy.”

Sirius flexed his shoulders and replied, “You’re welcome to try it, though I don’t intend to hurt either of them.”

In an instant Kiaya instinctively compared the two men, hoping that nothing terrible would happen between them. They obviously had a history and clearly disliked each other and she wondered about the comments about Black being dead. Black’s voice was as rough as Snape’s was smooth, though they both spoke in pleasant baritones. Snape was aristocratically slender but not as obviously muscled as Black. Black was slightly wider through the shoulders, but Snape was slightly taller. Both had black hair; Snape’s brushed his shoulders, in a more traditional wizard style and Black’s hair was long and probably needed a trim. Black eyes and gray eyes, pale and tanned, expensively tailored wizard clothing or cheap Muggle wear. The Daily Prophet had reported that Black was intelligent, cunning and dangerous. Any description of Snape would also include those words. The two men seemed to be opposite versions of the same thing, and perfectly capable of destroying each other.

Jasmine said quietly, “Severus, please…”

“Quiet, Jasmine,” he commanded.

In a second, Black’s hand was around Snape’s throat. “Never, ever speak to her that way again,” he growled.

Snape’s wand was pressed into Black’s jaw before Kiaya saw him shove it there.

Dumbledore and Remus jumped to separate the two men who were acting like dogs on short leashes. They separated but still growled and threatened. Kiaya was frozen but stirred when Jasmine brushed by her to run into the kitchen, collapsing into one of the huge chairs at the table. Her head was cradled in her hands. Kiaya knelt next to her for several minutes while the males argued and discussed. Snape was still vociferously objecting to Lupin and Black being lodged in the household.

Pointing to Jasmine, who looked ready to shatter, Kiaya interrupted, “Professor Snape, stop it and look what you’re doing! She’s under too much stress and doesn’t need any more. Please… stop.”

“Get to the castle, now, Miss Roundtree,” he ground out

“And if I wish to stay, what then?” The order stiffened her resolve and lit her own temper. This man who had intimidated her for seven years of her childhood and all of last year would not cow her now.

“You don’t want to know, Miss Roundtree, as such I suggest that you get moving.”

His silky response engaged a part of her that spoke before it thought. Impudently, she purred, “What are you going to do? Spank me?” The small voice in the back of her head warned of serious repercussions but she’d well and truly stepped in it now. And since she had an audience, there was no way in hell she’d back down. She glanced at Dumbledore who watched silently, waiting for them to sort themselves out and establish their own rules, and swallowed.

“That idea has merit, and it would give me a great deal of personal pleasure to watch you screech.”

“I’m flattered that you’re thinking about getting your hands on that part of my anatomy. However, if the best you can manage is “screeching” you’ll have to work harder. Let me know when you are able to spank me till I moan and I might take you up on it.” She looked up at him with a single eyebrow raised in what was unmistakably a challenge even though she quailed inside.

Sirius forgot his anger and misery in an instant, his rich laughter filled the room, all but muffling the sounds of Lupin’s snicker and Jasmine’s giggling gasp. Even Dumbledore looked amused though had the courtesy not to openly laugh.

The pair pretended that they were ignoring their audience though both knew full well that they were the center of attention. Green eyes challenged seething black ones with the unmistakable knowledge that there was nothing clever that he could say that would make him look less than a posturing, testosterone-driven idiot. He leaned very close to her face and growled. The sound was low, animalistic and unmistakably threatening. It sucked all but the smallest bit of the bravado from Kiaya. His eyes promised to make the next school term as hellish as he possibly could – from experience, Kiaya could only imagine how bad it could get but knew it would be beyond anything she’d ever felt before. Despite her inner vow not to let Snape intimidate her, a sliver of fear, certainly left over from her childhood, lodged in her brain. She suddenly thought that it was probably not wise to taunt her supervisor for the next hellish year and that discretion was the probably the better part of valor.

“Miss Roundtree, I do have more important things to do than to dawdle here while you pretend to spar with me. If you are quite finished, I would like to leave,” said Snape in an almost whisper.

Changing tactics, she smiled angelically and swished away from him, saying, “I will be ready in just a moment, Professor.” Out of his view, her face took a look of resigned horror, telling everyone else that she knew that her mouth had run off again, and she was regretting it already. Formally, she shook hands with Black. Both men wore expressions of delight in finding someone else to torment Snape.

“It’s nice to have met you, Mr. Black. I didn’t see you, don’t know you, have no idea where you are.”

“Thank you,” he said, grinning. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again, though.”

Kiaya smiled in response and turned to Remus. Instinctively, she tucked her hand into her pocket without shaking his hand. With a weak smile, she said, “Mr. Lupin, I will see you soon, I’m sure. Near the full moon, to get some blood samples. Let’s see if we,” she stopped to look at Snape, then amended, “if I can make you a bit more comfortable.”

He bowed slightly and said, “In a week, then.”

Kiaya turned to hug Jasmine. Kiaya was slightly shorter than the other woman but didn’t have to stretch at all to wrap her arms around the tense woman. As they ritually touched cheeks, Kiaya whispered, “I can’t believe I actually said that. I’m so stupid.”

“I can’t either, but it got them to stop, at least” said Jasmine. Her movements were stiff and angry.

Kiaya was worried that she was upset at her words. Leaning back, she looked into her new friend’s face, seeing the glittering of unshed tears.

Jasmine whispered, “It’s not you, it’s…” she looked in the direction of Sirius Black.

“I understand.” Shrugging helplessly, she said, “I have to go, before Snape drags me by my hair, but I’ll be right up in the school. Just send an owl if you need a chat, alright? I’ll find a floo or come down or something. I expect that I’ll want to escape a lot, too.”

“Severus isn’t so bad. He’s just protective. He’s wonderful, though, once you get to know him,” said Jasmine, allowing herself to be distracted for a moment.

“You married a different man than I know, then.” They heard a rumble come from the doorway. Muttering, “Beast,” she kissed Jasmine on the cheek. “Thank you again.”

“I’m glad he brought you down. I’m going to get to see a lot of you, right? Don’t forget your clothes!” asked Jasmine as they hugged again.

Kiaya nodded quickly then turned to Professor Dumbledore. Looking up at him, she appealed silently for Jasmine. He smiled down at her and shook his head; she sighed.

Quietly, she said, “I’ll see you up at school, Sir. Your Jasmine is lovely. I’m happy to have met her.” When Dumbledore nodded, Kiaya slipped from the room with her packages followed closely by Snape.

They all silently stared at the closed door for a moment, then Lupin broke in with, “That was certainly interesting.”

“Indeed it was, Mr. Lupin. Edward Basilton was correct; she certainly does have spirit and has proven to be a rather good teacher. I do think it might be just what Professor Snape needs right now. Don’t you agree, Jasmine.”

Barely listening, she muttered, “Yes,” though wasn’t sure what it was she agreed to. Nor did she care. Her attention was diverted back to Sirius. Silently she raged at him, blue eyes blaming him for every heartache she felt and every tear she cried over the last year. Every crime that she’d forgiven upon his “death” came rushing back. She promised that he would never get close to her again especially while living in her house; he would not hurt her again. He would never touch her again. If she could help it, he wouldn’t even speak to her. Every nerve in her body thrummed at his proximity; some in pleasure, some in pain. A knot twisted low in her belly.

Just as silently he stood quietly to the side. Shoulders hunched and face carefully blank, he watched her. Though her rage was a tangible slap, he accepted it. He knew that he deserved it and so much more. Self-castigation wasn’t enough, he needed her anger as well. Hopefully, when her rage cooled, he thought, they could talk. Perhaps then, she would forgive him and he could forgive himself. Until then, simply being alive and near Jasmine would be enough.

“Mr. Lupin, your bedroom is upstairs and to the left. A washroom is attached, linens may be found in the closet in the hallway. Dinner is at six, breakfast is at eight, not before – not after. We walk to school at eight forty-five and home at three-thirty. If you aren’t there, I go alone. My workroom is off limits to you both for anything less than fire or blood. I expect you to be polite beyond all else to my daughter but do not encourage her affections. The last time she got attached to someone, he left in the middle of the night.” With that, she whirled on one heel and closed herself in her workroom until it was time to pick up Arielle.