Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Severus stared at the book-shaped package with something between anticipation and dread pooling in his gut.  On one hand, he’d received half a liter of basilisk venom from Alioth for the solstice, a gift that must have easily cost ten to fifteen thousand galleons.  On the other, his seventeen-year-old student had sent him a birthday gift.

After another moment of hesitation, Severus carefully peeled away the paper.  It was a small book wrapped in a soft brown leather cover without script.  The spine was tooled, but also bare of title.  The style was old and the preservation charms a faint tingle against his fingers when he concentrated, so he suspected that it was both old and expensive to warrant such preservation.  Feeling foolish, he held his breath as he carefully opened the cover.  Upon laying eyes on the title page, his fingers spasmed against the book but he managed to arrest the motion before he could risk damaging it – which was undoubtedly overly cautious given the preservation warding.

The Prince.  By Niccolo Machiavelli.  The original Italian, printed in 1532.

Dear Merlin, the boy was insane.

And suspiciously well-informed.

This had been Severus’ favorite book growing up.  He still owned an old, dog-eared copy from his childhood as well as a mint condition, leather-bound late edition that he’d purchased as an adult and cast preservation warding himself to keep it in that condition.  The title, of course, was what had initially drawn him to the book, but he’d become more than slightly enamored with the philosophy over the years.  It was rather cutthroat, yes, but it had seemed to make so much sense compared to the ridiculous, ineffective, and corrupt Ministry.  Especially when he’d lost Lily at the end of his fifth year, he’d turned to the wisdom in this book for comfort.

There had been a time when he’d imagined the Dark Lord embodying Machiavelli’s philosophy, and in some ways perhaps he had.  Once upon a time.  Any lofty goals or high-minded ideals the monster had once supported had long since been lost at this point, buried beneath insanity and a thirst for ever more power and control.

But perhaps that information was now out of date, he realized.  If Alioth was correct in believing the Dark Lord’s sanity regained, then perhaps he would once more become the man Severus had believed in.  And Alioth always did seem to know what he was talking about.

His focus returned to the book in his hands and he turned the pages gently, looking at the familiar lines in the unfamiliar language.  Severus was fluent in only English and Latin, but he did have a superb translation charm that would allow him to read this with ease.  The superior charm gave one the understanding of a native speaker, so it wasn’t merely a case of changing the words to English, but imparting an understanding of the syntax and idioms and such used in the language.  It made it much more precise than reading someone else’s translation, which may misrepresent some of the finer bits.  In all honesty, modifying that spell at the age of sixteen was the reason he’d never bothered learning any more languages.  The charm only worked on the written form of the language, mostly because he had little enough cause to bother with translating spoken languages.  Perhaps he’d modify it if he ever had occasion to travel much.

“Alioth Black,” Severus muttered aloud as he gazed at the book.  Despite his honest attempts to avoid encouraging the boy’s - young man now, admittedly – infatuation with him, it seemed that it persisted.  He’d honestly thought that the boy would have found someone more fitting for his attentions by now.  He’d claimed to spend all of the previous summer traveling, after all, and he was a very attractive young man.  Yet he remained fixated on Severus to the point that Severus was quite certain this second extravagant gift in scarcely more than a fortnight indicated the boy’s intention to properly court him.

Despite himself, Severus felt his face warm.  Salazar curse him for a fool, Severus was actually flattered.  He’d never considered himself worthy of such an elaborate attempt at wooing – particularly not with such expensive and thoughtful gifts.  He’d have been considerably less impressed with gifts of jewels and flowers and fancy dress robes, which were more customary courting gifts.  Of course, those were usually given between couples that hardly knew each other.  For some unfathomable reason, Alioth Black knew more about him than Severus would have thought possible, even with Arcturus’ apparently impressive information network. 

He’d managed to track down Severus’ favorite book, after all.

Part of him thought he was giving too much credit.  Any potions master would have swooned for so much basilisk venom, after all.  And Alioth doubtlessly knew of his mother’s maiden name and Severus’ affection of books was hardly a state secret.  Perhaps it had been only a lucky guess.

The young man seemed to know everything, though.  He knew that Severus had been a Death Eater.  That he’d avoided Azkaban by claiming to be a spy.  He knew of Severus’ friendship with Lily and his enmity with James.  He’d managed to guess with alarming accuracy at Severus’ precise feelings for Potter in the boy’s first year and at the reason for it.  He seemed to know Albus better than Severus did, despite having no real direct contact with the man to Severus’ knowledge. 

Of course, one could not forget the memory of watching Alioth take a Killing Curse without even flinching, much less dying.  Severus knew of only one explanation for that.  Undead creatures were equally unaffected by the spell.  Despite that fact, he was fairly certain that Alioth wasn’t undead.  Or, if he was, he was a kind of undead of which Severus had never heard, which would make them exceptionally rare.  Despite being pale, Alioth definitely wasn’t a vampire.  The amount of glamors it would take to mask all the distinctly vampire characteristics would have left enough of a signature upon Alioth that Severus would have noticed with how much time he’d spent alone with him.  And vampires were the form of undead most easily able to pass as alive and they, like many other forms of undead, could not long survive in daylight without powerful enchantments, charms, or potions, any of which Severus was relatively certain he’d have noticed at some point in the last five and a half years.

There was also the fact that the undead did not physically change, much less age.  If Alioth was undead, it would have to be a recent condition and Severus knew he’d have noticed the difference.

Which left just one likely possibility in Severus’ mind.

Despite Albus’ reservations, the Mark burned into Severus’ arm strongly suggested that Alioth was the Master of Death.  Severus had done a lot of research into it, but no one seemed to have any idea of what the Master of Death actually was.  Those few who did make claims that sounded definite had no evidence to back up their assertions, leaving Severus to wholly doubt them.  Still, with such a title, it was entirely possible to assume that the being possessing it could be a rare or even unique form of undead or a live being with an unexplainable immunity to the Killing Curse.

It seemed absurd and unlikely, but Severus was at a loss as to a more likely explanation.

Severus carefully closed the book and held it, brushing his fingers over the covers and spine with small, reverent strokes while his mind turned over the enigma that was Alioth Black.

The young man was incredibly intelligent and learned, evidenced by his understanding of very advanced warding and spell creation as well as his near perfection in every single class he’d ever attended.  He was brave – perhaps more so than was healthy for him given his intervention with the troll in his fourth year, followed by his confronting the Dark Lord.  A confrontation that had culminated in him bargaining with the Dark Lord for ownership of Severus’ slave bond.  He still wasn’t entirely clear on why Alioth had done that.  Or, more importantly, what he intended to do with that ownership in the future.  In nearly two years, he’d done nothing with it beyond taking away the pain and changing the shape.  He’d never alluded to his control of it in any manner.

Thinking back on all of his interactions with Alioth over the years, Severus began to grow suspicious. 

Alioth’s intelligence and maturity had caught Severus’ attention in the boy’s very first year.  By the end of that year, he’d developed something of a rapport with him.  He’d already begun to treat him somewhat differently to the rest of his students.  He hadn’t really noticed at the time, but even when the boy had been twelve, Severus had already begun seeing him as something more than just another student.  He’d stood head and shoulders above his peers in intellect and in personality and temperament.

Alioth had responded well to that little extra respect Severus’ gave him and they’d grown gradually closer over the next few years.  At least, that’s how Severus had seen it at the time.  He found himself wondering now if he didn’t have it backwards.  Perhaps it would be more accurate to postulate that he had responded well to Alioth’s manner.

At the end of his fourth year, Alioth had pushed him hard and treated him like an equal rather than a professor when he’d confronted him about his bullying of Potter.  As hard as it was for him to admit it even now, that’s what it had been.  Alioth had made him see it.  And then at the beginning of his fifth year, he’d confessed to a “crush”.  It was most interesting, too, the way he’d done it.  He’d shown no embarrassment when confessing it or afterward.  He’d immediately temporized his admission by promising that he wouldn’t try to act on it and that he understood how inappropriate it was.  He’d even demonstrated an understanding of how uncomfortable it would make Severus, which was very true.

After that confession, Alioth had not changed the way he interacted with Severus at all.  He hadn’t seemed surprised or hurt when Severus had taken to avoiding him.  He seemed delighted at every opportunity to speak with Severus, but always allowed Severus to initiate such instances, never pushing for anything.

And then this.  Gifts.  If he followed the traditional courtship pattern, he’d give Severus a gift for each solstice and equinox as well as his birthday and would continue to do so until Severus accepted his suit or he gave it up as a lost cause.

With a mental step back to consider their entire relationship, Severus began to suspect that Alioth had been very slowly and patiently seducing him since his first year.

Though perhaps seduce was not quite the right word.  A drawn-out courtship may be more accurate.  After all, Alioth was clearly playing for keeps here as the courtship gifts indicated a desire to formally bond, not just have sex or even date.

The entire thing would have seemed impossible with most children.  Not many children so young were cunning enough or patient enough to even consider such a strategy, much less stick by it for so long.  Alioth, however, was a different creature entirely.  He was the very epitome of Salazar’s ideal Slytherin.  He was certainly cunning enough and clever enough.  If Alioth had decided in his first year that Severus was what he wanted, Severus could actually see the boy sitting down and drawing up a strategy to get him what he wanted, then sticking to it continuously.

Severus huffed a dry, rusty laugh and ran a hand over his eyes.  He’d worried about manipulating the boy and taking advantage of his infatuation.  It seemed very much like he was the one in danger in this scenario.

Pure amusement suffused him the more he thought on it and he found himself grinning quite helplessly at the book in his lap.  It felt surprisingly good – if foreign – to smile so broadly with genuine humor.

After a few moments, he breathed a cleansing sigh and let his face fall into more natural lines, turning his eyes to the book again.

Severus Snape was being courted by the Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Black.  It certainly wasn’t anything he ever could have imagined.

Despite the fact that Alioth was still his student for another year and a half, he found himself considerably less resistant to the courtship than he might have expected.  Alioth had waited until he was a legal adult to begin sending the gifts, which spoke strongly of both his patience and intelligence.  Severus could not have borne such a thing with someone underage.  He was only dealing with the fact it was his student because Alioth had made no attempts to push anything inappropriate on him.  He kept his distance and made no insinuations.  He didn’t even really flirt with him unless Severus started it.

He recalled the way Alioth had so casually pointed out his utter lack of interest in his fellow students after Burke had been poisoned.  That he received interest from at least a few of his classmates and always responded decisively in the negative.  Severus had been distracted at the time by the crisis at hand, but he had noted the way Alioth’s classmates had responded to that part of the discussion.  He’d gotten the impression that Alioth had understated how clear he made his lack of interest.  Indeed, his own observations supported that entirely.  Alioth had no friends and rarely even conversed with any other student apart from Potter except when it was explicitly necessary for coursework.  Even then he’d never seen any evidence that the conversation entailed any more than the bare minimum.  Alioth had admitted to him that he did not form attachments easily and Severus was coming to understand that he relinquished said attachments with equal or perhaps greater difficulty.  Severus had a similar predilection, and as such could not help but find it appealing in a potential... spouse.

How strange it was to consider such a thing after so long resigned to a short and lonely life culminating in a sudden and painful end.

But he wasn’t Marked by the Dark Lord any longer.  There was no way he could return to his occupation as a spy.  And his new master did not seem likely to do anything to invite his untimely end.  Indeed, the fact that Alioth seemed to be supporting a fiction that Severus was his own man was commendable.  And the courtship...  He seemed intent on winning Severus’ affections despite already owning his person.

Severus knew that he should not find that fact... charming, given his position.  But he rather did.

The first month back after winter break had gone very positively as far as Alioth was concerned.  Severus seemed to have subtly warmed toward him over the break, which Alioth knew would not be a response to the gifts by itself, or an attempt to garner more such favor.  Severus would never sell his affection in such a manner.  If he did not appreciate the sentiment behind a gift, he would return it, no matter how valuable.  The fact that he’d accepted both of Alioth’s gifts and had been treating him marginally more companionably since the holiday told Alioth beyond doubt that Severus had decided to allow the courtship – at least for the moment.

That was very good news.  Good news of such magnitude that Alioth had repeatedly caught himself smiling softly for no good reason each time his mind drifted anywhere in the vicinity of Severus.  Never since Severus’ death had Alioth felt so secure in their having a future together.  That fact had the somewhat alarming ability to make him want to grin and laugh at the slightest incentive and spend far too much time lost in fluffy daydreams that were a combination of the few truly happy times he’d had with Severus despite the war they’d been fighting, that lovely image from the Mirror of Erised, and some of their more positive encounters from this life, as well as his imagination.

It all culminated in making him horribly distractible, less than typically efficient, and drawing a lot of strange looks from classmates and professors who were accustomed to seeing him much more solemn of temperament.  The few times he’d noticed Severus catching him in such a moment, the man had looked both curious and cautiously amused, but Alioth was fine with that.

If was a month after the start of term that Dumbledore once more made a nuisance of himself.  It was a mere two days from Valentine's and thus the Hogsmeade weekend had turned into a sappy romantic dating event, but for once, Alioth barely noticed.  He was in entirely too good a mood to judge harshly all these petty and fleeting teenage “relationships" around him.  He very well remembered his brief infatuation with Cho Chang in his own silly teenage days.  It had been superficial and based entirely on what he’d thought he should want and in wanting some kind of connection.  It truly had next to nothing to do with who she was and was so far removed from the feeling of love that he now understood as to be unfit to grace the same category.

He’d hated Severus once upon a time, which wasn’t entirely unjustified given the man’s treatment of him had practically demanded it.  As he’d grown up, though, and as the war had properly put his priorities in order, he’d come to respect Severus for all that he did.  All that he sacrificed.  All that he was capable of.  After leaving Hogwarts for good after his sixth year, his respect for Severus had grown by leaps and bounds as they’d gotten to know one another on more equal terms with Harry leading the fight against Voldemort and Severus helping as he was able in between maintaining his cover as a loyal Death Eater and, of course, running Hogwarts.  They’d worked together a lot over that year and Harry had come to appreciate his wry sense of humor and his refusal to sugar coat anything for the sake of morale.  He’d come to rely on his advice and his prudence when Ron and Hermione had begun to demonstrate their unwillingness to do what needed to be done.

Somewhere in the course of that, he and Severus had become aware of a growing physical attraction and times of war were not times of taking things slow.  They’d started sleeping together on the basis of attraction and respect.  The genuine affection and love had developed somewhere in the midst of that.

Alioth was thus lost in thought when the first curse was thrown.

The shielding spell that he’d been using religiously since Albus’ first attempt on his life alerted Alioth to the incoming spell in just enough time for him to throw himself into a diving roll.  The powerful disemboweling curse missed him by a breath and he palmed his wand as he rolled back to his feet, wasting half a second to banish his traveling cloak to free up his movement.  His robes – all of them – had been subtly adjusted to allow maximum maneuverability while magically staying out of his way because he was a paranoid bastard.

Not that he didn’t have good reason for said paranoia, as the present situation demonstrated.

He found himself facing a pair of men in black battle robes, their faces masked by the simple expedient of black cloths tied around their heads leaving only their eyes exposed.  Their hoods were then drawn up, shading what remained to be seen of their faces.

Alioth recognized them at once as people he’d probably killed before.  Though he didn’t actually know who the individuals were, the outfit was unique.  They were part of a mercenary company that called themselves the Guild of Assassins.  From what Alioth had gathered in his previous time, the Guild had no relation to the historical group and were just a bunch of mercs with inflated egos.

That said, they were also very good at what they did.  They’d joined Voldemort last time – likely because he’d offered them a very large sum of money from the vaults of one of his pureblood followers – but Alioth didn’t think they’d picked any sides at this point.  He also seriously doubted that this was Voldemort’s doing.

Before he could do more than make that observation, they were attacking again.

Alioth shielded and kept moving as he ran through his options.  They were already beginning to attract a small, wary crowd at a bit of distance, his peripherals informed him.  Students and civilians - no one that was going to try to step into the fight, though he hoped someone was smart enough to inform the bloody aurors.  He didn’t want to give the whole game away, but Albus wasn’t pulling punches this time.  These two would bloody well carve him to pieces if he tried to keep his spells strictly NEWT level and below.  The most he could do is try to limit his Dark magic to the point he wouldn’t be arrested the moment the aurors showed up. As much as he’d love to brutally slaughter the pair and send a strong message to anyone thinking they could attack him, he knew that he couldn’t risk that just yet.  If they died incidentally as he defended himself, that would be okay, but he couldn’t outright attack with intent to kill.

Unfortunately.

With an irritable grimace, Alioth began fighting back, squeezing in offensive spells between defending himself.  The opposition was enough to keep the assassins on their toes and focused on something besides killing him.  He ventured into the more powerful spells generally only learned by aurors or people on the dueling circuit and wasn’t able to prevent showing a considerable amount of his genuine magical potential when the assassins stepped up their game and began coordinating their attacks in an attempt to overwhelm his shields.  Neither assassin was a slouch in the magical strength department and Alioth barely contained a wince when he heard people cry out in alarm as a light-consuming aura began to form in the air around him as his magic began to infect his surroundings.

Bloody hell, Albus was becoming problematic.

Realizing that he wasn’t going to get out of this without showing his true strength, he dropped some of the pretense and started hitting harder, chaining his spells just a little faster.

He sidestepped a severing curse, ducked a blood boiling curse, and spun away from a bone crushing curse only to get nailed by the expelliarmus launched at almost the same moment in what was undoubtedly a planned and coordinated tactic executed by seasoned partners.  As he watched his wand fly through the air he heard someone scream out in agony behind him.  A wave of fury rose in him as he realized that some idiotic bystander had just taken a curse meant for him because they weren’t bloody smart enough to seek cover, Alioth abruptly lost all patience for waiting for the worthless bleeding aurors.

With an enraged growl, Alioth dropped into a roll to avoid the stoneheart curse and mind-melting curse sent simultaneously from different angles, the combination clearly meant to kill him now that he was wandless.  He hadn’t wanted to display so much of his skill so soon, but neither did he want to publicly “die” right now.  Being forced to change his identity at this point would be nearly catastrophic.  And having Arcturus produce another mystery heir would be more than a little suspicious.  Coming out of his roll, he threw up a hand to erect a wandless shield as he regained his feet.  He followed that immediately with a dust cloud spell that obscured their vision and irritated their eyes, using the moment it took them to counter it to wandlessly summon his wand back to him.  It slapped into his palm just in time for him to counter a desiccation spell and duck something he didn’t recognize.  It felt like necromancy, so there was a decent chance it wouldn’t affect him, but he wasn’t about to take a chance with an unknown spell.

When he got hit by his second expelliarmus while trying to regain his stance after his duck, he realized that he couldn’t keep messing around stalling for time and playing average sixth year student.  If the wrong spell hit him next time, he’d be in a lot of trouble.  With a snarl of anger, he slashed his empty hand in a gesture that encompassed both assassins and sent a wave of pure magical force that overwhelmed their shields and instantly dropped them both.  He could have taken them down with spells, but that would have been telling of his skill.  This way, at least, he only revealed his raw power, which was already decently exposed by the aura he was involuntarily projecting.  This was something that could be brushed off as a form of accidental magic borne of his desperation.

Both assassins were down and unmoving.  He honestly had no idea if it had stopped their hearts, liquified their brains, or just concussed them and he didn’t rightly care at the moment. 

He fell to one knee as a wave of lethargy swept through him.  He caught himself and blinked hard to refocus his eyes.  Merlin it had been a long time since he’d discharged that kind of magical energy in a go.  His core was fine, he knew, as he hadn’t even come close to expending it on this fight.  The problem was that his body wasn’t used to that much strain in channeling so much magic.  He felt like one giant bruise despite the fact that he was actually incapable of physically bruising.  Honestly, were he alive, that probably would have been enough strain on his body to put him into a healing coma.  He was undoubtedly seriously injured inside and his magic was trying to heal it, which was making him feel tired.

There was a reason that most people used spells for anything big rather than just shoving their magical strength out of their bodies haphazardly.  And he’d done it without a wand which magnified the effects further.  Still, having taken them down in such a way that people could write it off as accidental magic made it worth it.

A few hours’ rest would probably be enough to set him to rights, but he didn’t have the luxury of indulging in that just then.  For now, he focused his magic into strengthening his damaged body artificially instead of properly healing it.  It would probably only make things worse in the long run, but he wasn’t about to lie down and take a nap here, and he wasn’t going to risk anyone thinking he needed a trip to the infirmary, so he’d have to deal with it.

Naturally, that’s when the aurors showed up.

He lifted his head at the sound of the apparation cracks to find wands pointed both at the fallen assassins and at himself.  He became aware then, that the aura was still hovering around him.  He sighed minutely and concentrated to pull back into him the magic that still wanted to flare in warning at everyone around him.  Gradually, the shadow his magic had been casting around him receded and he was confident that he once again appeared nothing more than a very tired seventeen-year-old school boy.

The aurors must have agreed because their wands lowered and their stances relaxed.  One of the aurors that had been checking on the assassins called out for a medic, which probably meant they were alive, and the other rather loudly announced that they were Assassins, causing gasps to ripple through the audience.

That reminded Alioth of the injured bystander and he turned to see Madam Pomfrey already tending to what looked like a fifth year Hufflepuff that Alioth didn’t recognize.  By the look of her leg, Alioth supposed she’d caught the bone crusher and was lucky enough it hit her leg and not her chest or head, which could both be acutely fatal.

Somehow, he wasn’t surprised that the Hogwarts mediwitch had a better response time than trained aurors who were meant to be sitting around waiting for such calls.

Things progressed pretty quickly from there.  The healers arrived and portkeyed out with their patients and a pair of aurors to guard them.  Madam Pomfrey rushed her patient back to the school.  The remaining aurors set about questioning witnesses while Alioth was portkeyed to a rather well-appointed little conference room at the Ministry once he’d declined to see any healers.

They left him alone in the room with a pot of tea and a tray of biscuits.  Knowing that they’d probably leave him where he was until they’d gathered initial witness statements and everything they could quickly find about him, he made himself comfortable in the chair and closed his eyes to meditate and hasten the recovery of his damaged body.

What felt to him like a short time later, the door opening drew him from his meditation and he opened his eyes to view two unfamiliar aurors entering the room with Amelia Bones.

His brow rose slightly, having not expected the Head of the DMLE to personally question him.  He supposed that they’d identified him as heir to one of the wealthiest families in the country and decided that a personal touch was needed.  Since he trusted Madam Bones as much as anyone at the Ministry and didn’t recognize either of the aurors as Dumbledore's pawns, Alioth decided that he wouldn’t bother insisting that his father be present for the questioning.  He was of age, but any member of a noble house could actually request their Lord be present for any legal proceeding – not that every Lord would bother for every member.  As long as they were content to treat him as the victim, he was rather inclined to act it and fully cooperate.  Not that such was false in this case, but he knew there were some aurors who would happily try to twist this into somehow being his fault just because his surname was Black.

“Heir Black,” Amelia greeted politely as she took a seat across from him while the aurors took up positions behind her flanking the door.  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Alioth inclined his head slightly, “Madam Bones,” he returned in kind.  “I understand these things take time.”

He got a hint of a smile for that comment and then she opened a scroll of parchment in front of her, placing a pair of small, tooled paperweights at the corners to hold it.  “I’m going to start with some routine questions.  You’re perfectly within your rights to have your father or a barrister here with you while I do.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary at this time,” Alioth dismissed.

“Very well, then.  Can you tell me your full name and date of birth for the record?”

“Alioth Arcturus Black.  September 21^st, 1976.”

“Thank you.  Now, can you tell me why you were going to Hogsmeade today?”

“Just looking to get out of the castle, really,” Alioth said with a small shrug.  “I was planning to peruse the bookshop, stop by Honeydukes, maybe grab lunch if I could find a place that wasn’t too crowded...”

She nodded, “Did you tell anyone of your intention to go to Hogsmeade?”

Alioth patiently sat through the tedious process of building the timeline of events, naming additional witnesses, and explaining all that had happened from his point of view.  Eventually, she inquired, “Do you have any idea why you were attacked today, Heir Black?”

“I suspect someone is trying to kill me,” Alioth said with a touch of self-deprecation.  “As heir of the Black family there could be any number of reasons someone might want me dead.  One of my father’s political rivals.  Someone hoping they might gain the heirship if I were out of the way.  Someone convinced I’m evil because I’m a Black.  Could be someone trying to get to Harry Potter through me as it’s fairly well known that he and I are friends.”

Fairly well-known perhaps, but it seemed that Madam Bones hadn’t known because her eyebrows shot up at that.  “I wasn’t aware that you were friends with the Potter heir,” she noted.  “He’s quite a bit younger than you, isn’t he?”

“Three years,” Alioth confirmed.  “He had a bit of trouble in his first year, what with Voldemort possessing the Defense professor and facing a troll and all.  I helped him out when I could and sort of took him under my wing.”

Alioth very carefully did not let on his utter glee when he saw Madam Bones tense in response to his casual mention of Quirrell and the troll.

“Voldemort was possessing a professor?” she asked, her tone hard as she said the name without the slightest stumble, significantly increasing Alioth’s estimation of her.

He nodded innocently and went on to recount every danger Alex and anyone else had faced at Hogwarts in the last three years since “Harry” had started there, from the Cerberus to the troll to Voldemort himself and the dementors on the train and at the Quidditch match.  By the time he was done, Bones was fuming.  He suspected that she was sharp enough to at least suspect that he was using this opportunity to get this information out, he also knew that she would properly investigate everything and find that he hadn’t exaggerated in the slightest.

In the end, Madam Bones advised him that the DMLE would be in contact with regard to his attack and his allegations against the safety of Hogwarts’ students if they had more questions or needed him to testify.  “Until the investigation is complete, I would highly advise that you avoid leaving Hogwarts unless it is to go directly home or with a trained bodyguard of some kind,” she said very seriously as they were getting up to leave.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he offered noncommittally.

Madam Bones just gave a small sigh and looked not at all surprised at him.  “What you did today was extremely impressive, Heir Black,” she admitted, “but overconfidence can as easily be your downfall as ignorance.”

Alioth smiled a bit at her genuine concern, “Thank you, Madam, but that is a point of which I am well aware.”  He hesitated briefly, as though uncertain, then questioned, “Those two assassins... will they live?”

Bones softened a bit, very likely assuming that he was worried for having killed people – something anyone would expect of a seventeen-year-old.  “It was touch and go for a bit,” she admitted, “but the healers believe that they’ll both live.  It’s not entirely certain if they’ll make a full recovery.”

Alioth nodded thoughtfully, wondering how badly he’d scrambled their brains and if they’d spend the rest of their days in the Janus Thickey Ward or just end up a little touched in the head.  Then he dismissed the thoughts because he honestly didn’t care.  It was good that they’d live though.  Word of the duel was going to get around and be bad enough without adding the fact he’d killed two people.

Upon leaving the room, they were immediately confronted with a genially smiling old man in gaudy puce and goldenrod colored robes.  “Amelia,” the old coot greeted Bones with a kindly twinkle in his eyes.

She frowned at him and shook her head a little.  “Headmaster.  I leave Heir Black in your care.”

“Thank you, my dear.  I'm certain you’ve taken very good care of him,” Albus said warmly, completely ignoring the lack of warmth in return.

Amelia said nothing more before leading her two bodyguards away.

Albus immediately turned his eyes on Alioth.  “Mr. Black.  They told me that you were well, but I am heartened to see it with my own eyes.  How are you feeling?”

“Tired, Headmaster,” Alioth replied, firmly resisting the almost overwhelming urge to quip something snide that would at least make the old man wonder if Alioth knew.  No, Alioth had responded today in a manner much safer and ultimately more satisfying.  Madam Bones was about to launch an investigation into Hogwarts and Headmaster Dumbledore with regard to both the safety of the school and their failure to inform the DMLE of important safety concerns and legal issues.  That investigation would hopefully keep Albus occupied enough that he wouldn’t have time to sit around plotting the murder of his students and Alioth knew it would trouble the old man greatly to be publicly accused of wrongdoing. 

So, he ducked his head, played up his very real exhaustion, and followed the old man back to the Atrium.  Dumbledore rattled on about how appalled he was that something like this could happen to one of his students and how he was going to do everything in his power to see the perpetrator was apprehended and how glad he was that Alioth hadn’t been harmed and no one had been seriously hurt.  Alioth made appropriate noises of agreement as necessary and generally let the words wash over him.

In the atrium, Albus gave Alioth the password to his floo – lemon sherbet, which was so generic it made Alioth suspect it was a temporary password that would now immediately be changed – and Alioth preceded the man back to his office.

“Would you like some tea, Mr. Black?” Albus offered when he stepped into his office after Alioth.

“No, thank you, Headmaster,” Alioth declined with a tired smile.  “I’m really very tired.  I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Very well,” the old man said wisely.  “It may not be a bad idea to stop by the hospital wing.  Madam Pomfrey could make sure you’re okay and give you a dreamless sleep draught,” he suggested.

“I’m fine, Professor,” Alioth assured, trying to look touched by the concern rather than suspicious of it.  “I just need some rest and I’ll sleep better in my own bed.”

“Of course, of course,” Albus allowed.  “Rest well, Mr. Black.”

Alioth sighed heavily once he was outside the office and did his best not to slouch all the way back to the dungeons.  He really, truly was very exhausted.

Happily, he didn’t encounter Alex or Severus on the way down, as they were the only two who could have persuaded him to stop for a chat.  As much as he always loved to see Severus, he really was too tired to manage just now.  He wasn’t using his magic to force himself to keep going anymore and the depth of his exhaustion almost shocked him.  Perhaps it was a result of how many years it had been since he’d felt proper exhaustion on a regular basis but he was finding himself quite in need of a bed.

Grateful that the upper year Slytherins had private rooms, Alioth closed himself inside and collapsed on his bed fully clothed.  He had a vague thought to take off his shoes but sleep claimed him before he could actually move to do it.

He woke an unknown amount of time later with a small moan of contentment and immediately turned toward the warmth that his magic had instantly identified as Severus.  With a happy smile, he wrapped an arm around the man’s waist where he was sitting at the edge of the bed and curled into him, burying his nose in the man’s hip and inhaling his unique scent.  “Mmn, Severus,” he purred blissfully a second and a half before awareness caught up with him and pointed out everything wrong with this picture.

Cautiously, he loosened his hold and rolled back enough to blink up at the man that was most definitely Severus sitting on the side of his bed.  There was a hint of pink dusting his cheekbones and he looked incredibly uncomfortable.

Clearing his throat nervously, Alioth drew further away from the man who was still his professor and had not yet given Alioth leave to touch him at all, much less intimately.  “Forgive me, sir,” he said, wiping sleep from his eyes.  His body ached to reach for the man again, but he ruthlessly repressed the urge.  He wouldn’t ruin everything by scaring the man away now when he was so close.

Severus’ Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and Alioth couldn’t help but follow it with his eyes before he looked up again and was certain he’d been caught.  Knowing that he needed to distance himself a bit from too-pleasant old memories, he forced himself to sit up and meet Severus’ eyes evenly.  “Was there something you needed, professor?”

The title seemed to galvanize Severus and he drew himself up a bit before responding.  “I came to see if you were well.  You didn’t respond when I knocked.”

Alioth heaved a heavy sigh.  “I was… rather exhausted,” he admitted.

“Yes, that seems evident by the fact you’ve been sleeping nearly twenty hours,” Severus stated wryly.

Alioth blinked in shock and reflexively cast a tempus with a twitch of his fingers.  It was indeed lunchtime on Monday.  Huh.  With his not needing to properly sleep, Alioth was accustomed to nothing more than dozing since he’d died.  It was satisfying – like having a lie in hours after you were sufficiently rested – but not the sort of thing to make him lose time like that or sleep too deeply to hear a knock.  “I… didn’t realize I was quite so tired.  I’ll just have a shower and head to class, I suppose.”

“You will do nothing of the sort, Mr. Black,” Severus chastised at once, causing Alioth to sink back onto the bed halfway through standing.  “You will have a meal here as soon as you’re ready and spend the rest of the day recovering.  If the rumors are to be believed, you were generating a visible aura yesterday.”  He paused a moment, then continued when Alioth didn’t refute that.  “Channeling that much magic would have most people in bed for days if they were capable of it at all.  You will rest at least until tomorrow and take that as well if you wish.”

Alioth huffed a small laugh and graced his professor with half a smile.  Perhaps it should have rankled to be coddled even so mildly and likely it would have from anyone else.  At the moment, he only felt cared for.  And maybe he’d have done that for any of his students in a similar situation, but Alioth rather doubted the man would be sitting on the bed next to just anyone.  “Thank you, Professor,” he settled on saying.  “I’m quite resilient, so I have no doubt I’ll be ready to return to classes tomorrow.”

Severus gave a terse nod and rose, staring at Alioth a moment more than probably necessary, then swept swiftly from the room.

Alioth watched after him with a by-now familiar ache in his gut that he’d long since come to know as longing.  It had been eighteen years since his Severus had died.  He could wait a couple more, he reminded himself.  Things were definitely going in the proper direction.

The weeks after the attack passed with little to remark them.  Dumbledore made no more attempts on his life.  At least, not that he noticed.  Hamilton Burke, the boy who’d fallen prey to Dumbledore's attempted poisoning was finally out of St. Mungo’s, though gossip circulated by the boy’s friends indicated that he’d be receiving weekly treatments to manage the incurable damage to his nervous system.  Barring a significant medical breakthrough, he’d never return to school or lead a normal life.

And Dumbledore had meant that for him when his crime was only to care about “Harry” and try to make his life better.  The old man was willing to destroy the lives of his students – murder them, even – just so he could cling to his plan to destroy Voldemort via the prophecy.  And given that Dumbledore knew damn well that Alex wasn’t the prophecy child meant that the man didn’t even actually believe in it despite using it to his gain.

Dumbledore truly was a monster, no matter how he chose to justify his actions in his own mind.

The Hufflepuff student injured in the last attack had had her bones vanished and regrown and made a full recovery already, but it could have been much worse.  If that curse had hit her torso or head, she could very easily have died or at least suffered permanent damage.  He’d heard nothing yet about Amelia Bones’ investigation into the headmaster, but he was fairly certain that it existed.  For now, he’d just have to be patient.

Onto more important matters, his little blunder with Severus the morning after his attack hadn’t seemed to set him back too much.  Severus had seemed a little tenser around him, but not cold or stand-offish, so Alioth wasn’t overly concerned.  Severus had no difficulty expressing himself negatively at the smallest inclination, so Alioth was certain he’d know about it if Severus was displeased with him.  If anything, he seemed more uncertain or even nervous, perhaps a bit like he’d been right after learning of Alioth’s ”crush” on him.

The end of March brought the vernal equinox followed by the spring school break.  The fact that they had to attend classes until after the equinox was an excellent example of the degradation of their culture.  What had once been a holiday celebrated throughout the wizarding world was now ignored in favor of the Christian Easter, the exact date of which varied by year.  Alioth wasn’t a particularly religious man, but he had practiced the seasonal rituals in the past and found them to be very pleasant and a boon to his magical core.  It didn’t increase power, but it did support control of it.  In days before wands became common, these rituals had been vital to providing the control necessary to work most spells and the seasonal holidays had provided the impetus for essential magical rituals.  Now, they were largely considered silly superstitions or even Dark magic in some cases. 

Though he hadn’t celebrated the equinox, he had, of course, given Severus the gift he’d purchased over winter break.  Well, the second gift.  The first had obviously been The Prince which he’d sent off before the break had even ended.  This one was a collection of three albums from an American jazz band.  Though Alioth suspected that almost no one knew it, Severus had a particular love of jazz music and a small collection of vinyl albums to play on his gramophone when he wanted to wind down in the evening.  He was relatively sure that Severus didn’t have any albums for this particular band as they were rather new and not widely sold in the U.K.  He was confident the man would like the gift and hoped that he appreciated that it was a thoughtful and personal gift.

But he wasn’t letting himself fret about it over the break.  He needed the time to destress from Dumbledore and Alex and Severus and school in general.  Winter break had worked wonders on him and he meant to make the most of this one as well, even if he only had a couple more months of school to go after the break.

He spent the bulk of the break in New York once again, reveling in his comfortable flat there.  It was comfortably sized, but not the cavernous dimensions he’d grown accustomed to as a Black.  At around 1,000 square meters, it boasted two sizeable bedrooms, a small library, comfortably sized study on the main floor and a smaller one upstairs with the second bedroom suite, eat-in kitchen and a large living room.  There had been a small dining room as well but he’d foreseen no need for it in addition to the table in the kitchen, so he’d put bookshelves into the walls and a squishy sofa and turned it into a reading nook.  He particularly loved that it had a total of four fireplaces, including one in the master bedroom.  Living in the wizarding world had instilled in him a love of fireplaces.  None of them were nearly large enough for a floo, but that suited him fine as he preferred the seclusion offered by not being on the network despite the slight inconvenience.  A broad terrace surrounded the main level on all three sides, providing a stunning view of Central Park and the surrounding city from the twelfth story penthouse.

The interior was rather Mediterranean with a lot of rough stone, hardwood floors that weren’t polished to gleaming, wood beams across the ceilings, and distressed wood cabinets in the kitchen.  The kitchen table was surrounded by a bench on three sides with only one chair at the other.  It was beautiful but not in a way that screamed wealth despite the furnishings and appliances he’d bought new over winter holidays. 

The decorator had been through while he was at school, completing the place with paintings and other wall décor and window dressing and such that he hadn’t wanted to be bothered with collecting.  He was very pleased with the result.  She’d listened to what he’d described as wanting the place to feel like and chosen perfectly to complement what he already had.  She was definitely worth every penny as his flat now felt much more home-like and lived in.  It probably would have taken him years to get the place looking a fraction so nice with the minimal time and effort he’d have been willing to contribute.

With his flat looking so fantastic, he headed to the flat he’d purchased for Alex first thing the next day and found himself equally pleased.  All of the awful furniture had been donated to a list of charitable organizations the decorator had had handy.  The stark white marble floors had been replaced with warm and friendly wood that complemented similar wood tones on the trim around the windows and doors.  He’d left most of the details up to the contractor/decorator team and found himself very happy with the warm, homey feel that had been cultivated despite the towering ceilings and soaring windows.  All the windows in the living room had wide, padded bench seats that Alioth could easily picture Alex enjoying at all times of the day and night to view the city he seemed to cherish so much as his first and proper home.

This flat had only one fireplace – in the main living area – but it was literally surrounded by windows that offered a resplendent view from the ninety-fifth floor.

Alioth didn’t like it nearly as much as his own flat, but that was a good thing or he wouldn’t want to give it away.  He thought Alex would like it and that was the important part.  Rather than leaving it as a six-bedroom flat as it had been originally, Alioth had added an office and a game room.  The former would undoubtedly come in handy as Alex gained more responsibilities and the latter would hopefully amuse him.  That still left three bedroom suites in addition to the master, which had two full bathrooms and dressing rooms attached to it.

Once he’d assured himself of the suitability of the flats, he completed his contracts with the decorator and contractor, then set about enjoying his holiday.

Rather than remaining entirely in New York this time, he took a couple of portkey trips each week to various shopping districts around the world.  He did do some recreational shopping on these trips and enjoyed eating out at all manner of exotic restaurants, but he balanced it with some business.  The pleasant kind of business.  Exploring local fares and learning about tariffs and taxes.  He was upgrading Black properties with increased – in some cases entirely new – farming and ranching capabilities.  When they were fully operational, they should not only cover any maintenance costs of the properties themselves, but provide a nice income.

The Black family was sinfully wealthy, yes, but he wanted to add to that wealth as Lord of the House, not drain on it.  As the family had diminished in recent decades, the income had likewise dwindled.  Since the expenditures had fallen off dramatically as well with fewer members, it hadn’t made a significant dent in the bottom line yet, but Alioth fully intended to see the House flourish once more.

He was also giving serious thought to replacing the family motto of “Always Pure” to something more along the lines of “Family First”.  Blood purity meant nothing to him in general, but when the family had almost gone extinct in its attempt to maintain and further blood purity, he thought it was fitting that they shook off that old dogma.

While he was in New York, Alioth took the time to visit MACUSA and inquire about the process of gaining a dual citizenship.  His initial thought was for Alex, but as he looked into it, he also realized that he might be interested in going through it himself.  Assuming, of course, that Severus had nothing against the States. 

If Severus didn’t feel very strongly about destroying Voldemort, there was a very good chance that he would end up controlling Wizarding Britain within the next decade.  Though Alioth didn’t really think Voldemort would be a terrible ruler, it was likely that any government under him would be fairly totalitarian.  Alioth rather thought he’d prefer to have a second citizenship to fall back on if he decided that he didn’t want to live under his rule.

And, of course, if Severus did want Voldemort destroyed, then there was a very good chance that the current, stagnant and corrupt government would remain in power.  In which case, Alioth wasn’t particularly enamored with the idea of living there under that rule, where Dark magic was maligned and Dark creatures reviled.  MACUSA was much more moderate with regard to magic and downright tolerant of all manner of creatures.  It was quite refreshing.

Just in case, Alioth hired a realtor to put in an offer on the condo below his, authorizing her to more than double market value on the place if necessary.  The owners had shown no interest in selling, but money was a great motivator and the price he was prepared to offer would buy them a much nicer condo should they desire.  If Severus did consent to stay with him here for any length of time, he wanted to be able to offer him the use of a state-of-the-art potions’ laboratory. 

And it wasn’t as though Alioth wouldn’t use it as well.  He didn’t have Severus’ passion for brewing, but he did have the skill the man had eventually drilled into him and an appreciation for its usefulness.  He even dabbled in inventing though he was nowhere near Severus’ skill.  He was better at altering existing potions than creating from scratch.

The downtime he spent in New York, Alioth devoted to working on perfecting his summer solstice gift to Severus.  This one wasn’t costing him anything, but he suspected that it would be the most cherished of them all.  He just hoped the man would take it well.

When it was time to return to school, Alioth could feel his muscles tightening with wariness before he even arrived at King’s Cross.  He was not looking forward to dodging more attempts on his life or the collateral damage that may go along with them.  Albus was proving himself incredibly troublesome.  Unfortunately, he was also annoyingly well-protected.  Alioth had begun subtly looking into ways to get at the old man only to discover that he was more paranoid than Alioth had guessed.  He purchased his lemon drops in person, so poisoning them would be nearly impossible.  His office was protected by Hogwarts’ own slew of wards as well as some of Albus’ addition, and his personal quarters were only accessible through said office.  Even the windows were impenetrable.  He also wore a collection of personal wards at all times that Alioth had observed him, making it unlikely that he could sneak in any spell or poison while the man was in public.

In hindsight, Alioth supposed he shouldn’t be surprised.  With the number of people – powerful people – the old man managed to infuriate, someone would have undoubtedly killed him decades ago if he weren’t so careful.  Luckily, Alioth had taken the Slytherin approach to assassination and explored his options at a careful distance rather than tipping his hand with reckless attempts the way Albus had done, so the old man was none the wiser about Alioth’s intent.

Alioth still had no desire to test himself in a duel with the old man, even if he could find a way to do it that wouldn’t land him in Azkaban if he won.  He was beginning to give serious thought to offering Voldemort an alliance for the sole purpose of completing their like goal in ending Dumbledore’s reign of hypocrisy.

School went well enough for the final months of the year.  There were no more attempts on his life and Alioth had more peace than ever before as there was not a single student in the school – barring Alex himself – who would voluntarily speak with him, much less question him. 

Evidently, there had been enough witnesses when he’d fought the assassins for a decently reliable and accurate account of the fight to have spread throughout the school.  Between the fact that he’d fought two professional assassins and won and that he was projecting a visible aura, Alioth was getting a lot of fearful looks these days – largely from Hufflepuffs.  The Gryffindors, naturally, were forced into false bravado lest anyone think they had a healthy respect for someone that could knock them on their arses in seconds.  Thankfully, that bravado had thus far taken the form of boasting but not actually challenging him.  The Ravenclaws kept a healthy distance from him and treated him politely if they were forced together in class, but other than some watchful looks, they projected indifference toward him.  The Slytherins had already had a healthy respect of him.  That had grown considerably of late with the entire House now either deferring to him or avoiding him entirely.  A few had tried the sycophant approach, doubtlessly hoping to curry favor, but he’d put that idea to bed immediately.  He neither wanted nor needed someone following him around fetching and carrying and stroking his ego.

Perhaps if he’d had political aspirations, he’d have used it to his advantage, but he had no such thing.  His life’s goals amounted to pleasing Severus and doing as he wished without constant consideration for a public image.  Yes, being Lord of House Black had certain responsibilities, but Arcturus didn’t really care for the political arena and Alioth found himself likewise disinclined.  He would build the family wealth and trade alliances, but nothing short of Severus’ devout wish would get him involved in toadying favor from politicians and attending tedious balls and galas.

Alex was the only one who seemed immune to his new, improved reputation.  The boy had expressed concern for his health when he’d first seen him after the incident, but once he was assured that Alioth was well, he went back to treating him exactly as he had before.  Alioth appreciated that favor perhaps more than was healthy, but he’d already known that he was extremely attached to the boy.  The Mark Alex now bore on his chest was testament to that fact.

The degree of his partiality was evinced one day in early June when Alex physically dragged him into an empty room just after breakfast and issued his heartfelt plea that Alioth find a way to save Buckbeak from the execution that was scheduled for that evening.

Which was how he found himself disillusioned, strolling down toward the gamekeeper’s hut while the rest of the school was at dinner.  His absence from the hall wouldn’t be remarked due to the fact that he skipped meals relatively often when he was absorbed in something else.  Given that he had no need to eat, it was often difficult to rouse himself from his work just to entertain his taste buds for half an hour’s time.

Alioth had known that Alex and his friends were working on trying to help Buckbeak, of course, and he was honestly grateful that Alex had come to him for help instead of putting himself at risk by taking the hippogriff through the forbidden forest while it was crawling with dementors on the night of the full moon.  Honestly, when he thought back to some of the stupid shit he’d done as a kid, he was entirely exasperated with himself.  Yes, Buckbeak didn’t deserve to die.  But risking his and his friends’ lives to save a freaking animal was just astonishingly ridiculous.

He’d formed attachments so pathetically easily back then, even latching onto a hippogriff as though it was a precious friend or familiar rather than one of Hagrid’s many pets.

Personally, at this point, Alioth felt very little concern for helping the animal, but he did care about Alex and he remembered how important this had felt when he’d been that age.  So, it was for Alex rather than the animal that Alioth approached the chained animal while Hagrid was at dinner, thus providing his alibi.  Luckily, hippogriffs were much easier to handle than basilisks.  It took him but a moment to stun the beast, remove the chain holding it, and then use the same spell he’d used on the basilisk to put it in stasis and shrink it down so he could slip it into his pocket.  Hippogriffs had no particular magical resistance, so it wasn’t necessary to cover his body in runes as he’d done with Ahsura.

Once the hippogriff was safely in his possession, he returned to the Slytherin common room and made himself visible as everyone returned from dinner.  He waited until after curfew to slip out of the castle and apparate back to Castle Black.  There, he found the portkey for Black Palm Hall and made the trip.  It was the most remote of the Black properties.  The perfect place for a hippogriff to live in peace.  He’d get used to the temperature and no doubt enjoy the fishing opportunities.  And Alex could visit him over the summer if he wished, to assure himself of the animal’s well-being.

As it was only late morning on the island, Alioth couldn’t quite resist going for a quick swim in the warm ocean waters.  And then he took a quick turn through the library to borrow a few books – Hogwarts never had enough advanced content to keep him entertained.  Needless to say, it was quite late before he made it back to Hogwarts.

Or perhaps early would be more accurate.  He slipped back into the castle with the predawn light behind him and took no precautions beyond a quiet step to conceal himself as it was well after patrols and still significantly before it was reasonable to expect anyone to be up.

So, naturally, he nearly bumped into Severus shortly after entering the castle.  Alioth knew that the man suffered occasional insomnia and he’d evidently decided that a walk through the school was just the thing this morning.

Severus’ dark eyes were startled when they met Alioth’s but that quickly melted into exasperation as he made a point of casting a tempus and looking at the time – just shy of four o’clock – then looking at Alioth expectantly.

“Good morning for a stroll, Professor,” Alioth said pleasantly instead of venturing an explanation that would necessarily be a lie.

Severus gave a small, exasperated sigh and shook his head, “Evidently.  Detention with me at seven tonight, Black.”

“I look forward to it,” Alioth replied with a smile.

Severus just gave him a mildly disgruntled look and strode away.

Alioth smiled after him.  Getting to spend an evening with Severus was a treat, even if they didn’t talk and Alioth had to scrub cauldrons or prepare ingredients or even write lines.  Just being in the same room as the other man was a better way to spend an evening than he could manage on his own.

Thus, the next day, after assuring Alex that Buckbeak was fine and enduring a hug of gratitude in return – he was beginning to grow accustomed to Alex’s impulsive hugs – Alioth made his way down to the dungeons for his evening with Severus.  The older man met his greeting smile with a disapproving frown and set him to scrubbing a large and very dirty collection of cauldrons.

Alioth set to it with alacrity and soon found himself humming quietly while he worked, just enjoying the peaceful proximity to the man for whom he’d literally defied time itself.  He’d yearned for the man for so many years that now that he was here…  Now that he’d gotten the man to at least consider his suit…  It was truly euphoric. 

While he scrubbed each cauldron with meticulous care, he let his mind wander to the fantasies he had been building of the future.  Most of them seemed to revolve around the two of them living together at his flat in New York.  Sharing space.  Spending evenings curled up together in the reading nook with separate books or spit balling ideas for potions or spells.  Hours spent in the kitchen preparing the perfect meal so that when Severus returned from a long day of brewing, he would smile and relax and unwind with Alioth over a home-cooked meal.  The sound of the door to the potions lab slamming as Severus locked himself in there for a marathon brewing session after they had a fight.

He wanted these things desperately and he knew without doubt that he and Severus could have them all if his plans came to fruition.  And though he loved the flat in New York, these things could really happen anywhere in the world that Severus desired.  The location wasn’t important.

Alioth was startled out of his thoughts when the Bloody Baron sailed through the wall already speaking, “Professor Snape, one of the Gryffindors has just been attacked by a large black dog on the grounds.”

“Fuck!” Alioth snapped with feeling before Severus could respond, causing both the professor and the ghost to look at him in surprise.  Alioth rarely swore as he considered it unnecessary and often detrimental to the point he wanted to make.  He did, however, still indulge in times of sudden stress or acute pain, and this definitely qualified as the former.

“Something you’d like to share, Black?” Severus asked tersely.

Alioth took a breath and considered his options for just a moment.  He knew that the dog was Sirius and that Alex was more than likely following Ron to the Shrieking Shack at that very moment.  He also knew that Sirius wouldn’t hurt Alex but that hardly meant he was safe with a wanted fugitive in a school surrounded by dementors on the night of the full moon.  And that completely ignored what Pettigrew may be capable of if pressed.  Alioth didn’t doubt for a second that the rat would abduct Alex and drag him back to Voldemort if he thought it would keep him alive.

“Sirius Black is a black dog animagus,” he admitted.

Severus’ eyes widened and he turned to the ghost, “Where were they?” he demanded at once.

“Beneath the Whomping Willow,” the Baron replied and Severus was running out of the room almost before he was finished.

Alioth wasted no time in taking up after the man.

Severus glanced over his shoulder and saw him following.  It prompted a fierce scowl, but he didn’t waste his breath on trying to send him back.  It was nearly curfew and they didn’t pass anyone on the way out of the school.  In the wane twilight, Alioth followed Severus out to the homicidal tree and the professor tossed a silent spell at the knot to immobilize the tree without even breaking stride.

At the base of the tree, they came to the tunnel where the priceless Cloak of Invisibility was lying discarded on the ground.  Alioth scowled angrily at the treatment of the artifact despite the fact he remembered being equally as careless with it at that age.  He’d been such a thoughtless Gryffindor.  Anything could have happened to it.  Even only believing it to be a normal cloak, the fact that it was an heirloom should have been enough for him to treat it with more respect than that.

Deciding that perhaps it was time to reclaim the hallow, Alioth reached out to snatch it, only for it to explode into a shower of sparks the moment it touched his skin.  The sparks flashed in the night before settling on and sinking into his hand.  It wasn’t the first time he’d touched it, so he could only imagine that touching it with the intent to reclaim it had caused such a result.

Severus was staring at him suspiciously when Alioth looked up.  “Return to the school and alert the headmaster,” the man said after just a beat.

Alioth lifted an eyebrow and shook his head, “I’m sorry, Professor, but I will not.”

Severus visibly seethed, “I recall it was you who said that Sirius Black wasn’t dangerous!” he pointed out sharply.

“I said he wasn’t guilty,” Alioth corrected.  “I said he wasn’t a Death Eater.  He’s still spent more than twelve years in Azkaban.  His sanity I cannot vouch for.  And I’ve no doubt Harry is involved.  The boy has come to mean a lot to me, and I cannot stand by while you both are in danger.”

Without wasting any further time arguing, Alioth slipped down into the tunnel, certain that Severus would follow.  He cast a faerie light to hover over his head so that he wand was free for casting, and started down the tunnel, hearing Severus behind him moments later.

“I should stun you and leave you here until I return,” the other man was muttering angrily.

Alioth smiled a bit to himself, certain the physically older man would attempt no such thing.  Not that he wasn’t capable of doing such if he deemed it for Alioth’s own good, but he knew the man wouldn’t have been muttering about it if he was going to do it.  He’d have just cast the spell.  The fact that Alioth was wearing the shield ward still meant that the professor wouldn’t have succeeded in his attempt anyway.  Perhaps he suspected as much.

He allowed the light to fade as they neared the shack so that their eyes could slowly adjust to lower lighting before it winked out completely as Alioth slowly emerged from the tunnel.  The building was covered in thick dust and showed the wear and tear inherent to housing a werewolf for seven years.  Having been inside a number of times in the past, Alioth paid little attention to the state of the place as he followed the tracks in the dust up the stairs.

As he approached the door beyond which voices could be heard, Severus drew distractingly close at his back and placed a restraining hand on his shoulder outside the door.  Alioth hadn’t intended to charge in without assessing the situation, but he was hardly going to complain about the contact.  So, with Severus close enough for Alioth to feel his breath on his neck, they listened to what was happening beyond the slightly open door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Alex’s angry voice snapped, taut with fear that he was trying to conceal.  “You can’t just go around biting people and dragging them away!  What’s wrong with you?”

“Harry…” that was the plaintive voice of Sirius Black.

Alioth mentally smirked.  He didn’t remember exactly what all had been said when this had happened to him, but he knew that he’d been more cautious than confrontational like Alex was being.  The fact that it was succeeding in making Sirius feel guilty was rather humorous, even if Alioth would have to have a talk with the boy about the proper way to deal with your average psychopath because if Sirius really was everything he was believed to be, Alex would probably be writhing under the Cruciatus by now if not simply dead on the floor.

“You don’t understand,” Sirius continued to whine.  “It’s…”  Then his voice took on a more aggressive pitch, “It was him!” he snarled.

“Scabbers?” Ron’s voice, thin with stress and pain, demanded plaintively.  “What’d he do?”

“He was the one who betrayed them, Harry,” Sirius hissed, sounding more than a little insane and not just because he was blaming a rat for the crimes he was believed to have committed.

Alioth wondered at the fact that he’d volunteered to live with this man immediately after this.  Just because the man hadn’t betrayed his parents and wasn’t a Death Eater didn’t mean he was stable.  Then again, when the alternative was the Dursleys…

Alioth felt a small twinge of guilt at the thought of his mother’s sister and her family, who were quite likely not nearly so vile as Dumbledore had made them to be. 

He quickly reminded himself that their deaths could be lain at Dumbledore’s feet and refocused his attention on the room in front of him in time to hear Sirius cast an accio at the rat and Ron shouting and the rat squealing.

Severus, apparently, decided that he’d heard enough with the confirmation that Sirius had a wand.  He carefully but firmly pushed Alioth aside and stepped forward, pushing open the door with his wand held high directed at Sirius.  Before he could make it through a stunning spell, Hermione’s voice piped in with an expelliarmus and Alioth rushed forward just as Sirius was casting a stunner at Severus. 

Hermione, the little know-it-all bint had clearly believed that she’d figured out the mystery and disarmed Severus in order to protect poor misunderstood Sirius Black.  Ron was still clutching a frantic rat.  Alex had his wand out and his eyes wide, clearly having no idea of what to do.  Sirius was glaring murder at Severus as Alioth neatly deflected the stunning spell into the wall, where it left a faint scorch mark.

“Now, now, now, let’s all calm down,” Alioth admonished as he settled halfway in front of Severus with his wand pointing at Sirius.

Alex immediately relaxed and lowered his wand at the sight of Alioth, but Hermione’s brow puckered in indecision and she kept hers up.  Alioth kept part of his attention on it.

“Who are you?” Sirius snarled, likely responding to his Slytherin tie and his obvious defensive stance in front of Severus.

“My name is Alioth,” he answered smoothly, “and I am the Heir of the House you so disdain, cousin.”

Sirius had apparently heard enough because he immediately threw a stunner at Alioth, as though being Heir of House Black was tantamount to admitting he was a Death Eater or something.  The man was clearly mentally imbalanced.

Alex screamed, “NO!” when the spell was cast and hit Sirius was an expelliarmus as Alioth was blocking the rather weak stunner without difficulty. 

Sirius’ wand landed in the corner of the room and there was a protracted moment of silence before Alioth spoke again.  “Well, I think perhaps we should all calm down,” he advised.  “To begin with, Sirius, I think we’d all like to know why you kidnapped Mr. Weasley.”

Sirius looked a bit startled at the accusation of kidnapping, but then his eyes fell on the rat and went rather feral again.  “I wasn’t trying to get him.  I was trying to get that damned rat!” he snarled.

“Why?” Alioth pressed, trying to keep the man focused.

“Because he killed them!” Sirius snarled.  “It wasn’t me!  I was never the Secret Keeper!  It was Pettigrew!  That lying, spineless, traitorous rat!”

Ron immediately began defending “Scabbers” while Sirius tried to physically charge at him.  Alex lifted a kinetic ward, causing him to bounce back and land on his backside.

Alioth flashed Alex a quick, proud smile at his swift use of the spell that Hogwarts didn’t teach, then focused back on Sirius.  “Are you suggesting that the rat is literally Peter Pettigrew?” he probed for the sake of his audience.  “An animagus?”

“I’m not ‘suggesting’ it!” Sirius sneered.  “That’s what he is!”

“Well, there’s a simple enough way to prove that,” Alioth shrugged and tossed a casual animagus reversal spell at the rat, which promptly swelled into Peter Pettigrew right there on Ron’s lap.  That last bit hadn’t been intentional, but was hilarious, nonetheless.

In the following chaos as Ron scrambled away from the filthy, disgusting man now sprawled across him with Hermione and Alex rushing to help and defend him, Severus quickly summoned his wand – wandlessly, which was hot – and Alioth hurried to place his free hand on top of Severus’ wand arm.  It wasn’t restraining, of even urging his arm down – merely requesting patience.

Severus spared him a half-second glance while the rest of the room was otherwise occupied with the former rat still.  His stony expression didn’t change, but neither did he cast anything and Alioth removed his hand before anyone noticed.

The next ten or fifteen minutes consisted of a déjà vu inducing explanation about how Pettigrew was really responsible for the elder Potters’ deaths and Sirius had been innocently incarcerated without a trial.  Interestingly, it was Hermione who first petitioned for Wormtail’s life while Alex just stood by looking conflicted.  Then again, given what he’d told Alioth about his desire to see Albus dead, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising that he’d understand the need for revenge.

When it was decided that they’d head back up to the school, Alioth stunned and bound the vile man, “No point giving him the smallest chance to escape,” he pointed out, for good measure adding a minor curse that prevented animagus transformations for a time.  “He’s proven himself rather capable in that regard.

Severus collected and retained the wand Sirius was using while Hermione levitated Pettigrew.  Severus and Alioth walked at the back of the pack, where they could keep an eye on everyone.  Alioth really hoped that Hermione got at least a month’s worth of detentions for disarming Severus, but he suspected that Albus may brush it under the rug or ensure she received only a token slap on the wrist.  Being that she’s one of his precious Gryffindors and that she was acting with impulsive bravery, it was unlikely the old man would see anything wrong with her actions.

Alioth strongly suspected that the man had been the worst kind of bully in his own Hogwarts days as he seemed to view others who engaged in such activities with such warmth and understanding.  Stupidity – even when others were hurt or nearly so as a result – was not only allowed, but encouraged.  As long as it was his Gryffindors.

Well, it appeared that he was feeling bitter tonight.  A natural result of witnessing any injustice to Severus, he supposed.  A student disarming a teacher under any circumstances, but especially during a dangerous situation should have resulted in at least a consideration of expulsion.  Sadly, he was virtually certain that no such consequence awaited Hermione.

As they emerged onto the school grounds once more, Alioth looked around cautiously, but there was no sign of Remus – or any other werewolf.  He realized that Severus was watching him as he looked away from the full moon as it appeared from behind the clouds.  “Do you know where Professor Lupin is tonight?” he asked quietly, Sirius non-stop rambling at Alex covering the question.

Severus’ brow rose in surprise a moment before he replied, “He took a potion and went to bed before your detention,” he explained.

Alioth nodded in understanding, marveling at the fact that it was apparently his detention that had sent Severus to deliver the potion sooner, resulting in no werewolf in tonight’s proceedings.  Also, no dementors, as they didn’t get anywhere near the borders of the school grounds and the creatures had been banished quite decisively from the grounds since that unfortunately Quidditch match.

Such a small change to make such a magnificent difference.

Alioth still found himself smiling softly to himself as they walked, his mind drifting back to his own third year and Severus putting himself bodily between three stupid Gryffindors and a feral werewolf.  He’d been such a little idiot back then to not see that Severus was a truly good man.  Not always a pleasant man, especially if your name was Potter or Sirius, but very much a good man even so.

They reached the castle without incident – Pettigrew still unconscious and Sirius still babbling at Alex about James and Lily.

Alioth interrupted the flow to address Alex, who turned to look at him with a guilty expression on his face.  He clearly knew Alioth wasn’t happy with him, which was a start.  “You and I will talk tomorrow, Harry.  We need to have a very long chat about the decisions that you made tonight.”

Alex’s shoulders slumped and his head bowed, the very picture of a recalcitrant youth.  “Sorry, Alioth,” he said glumly.

“Don’t you talk to my godson that way!” Sirius snapped suddenly, moving to stand half in front of Alex as if in his defense. 

Alioth sighed, “You’ve not seen your godson in twelve years, Sirius, and your first act as godfather was to put him in a room with a desperate Death Eater.  You are emaciated and exhausted, your magic barely functional.  And you’re going to lecture me for disapproving of his endangering his life instead of seeking assistance?  It baffles me that the Potters were stupid enough to name you godfather of an innocent child.”

The second the world “stupid” was out of his mouth, he knew he’d pushed the man too far.  His eyes lit with a less than totally sane rage and the man threw himself at Alioth bodily seeing as he no longer had access to a wand.

Rather than attempting to curse him in such close quarters, Alioth used some of his moderate skill with hand-to-hand to rather effortlessly sidestep and duck under a flailing arm, adding a small push to Sirius’ own momentum to send him careening hard into the wall.  The combination of the man’s very unfortunate physical health and his blind rage eliminated any challenge he may have otherwise presented as a former auror.

“Enough!” Severus snapped, though he sounded more exasperated than angered.  “Mr. Black, you may return to the common room.  You, Black, can restrain yourself or be stunned and bound as well.”  He was clearly enjoying his ability to boss Sirius around with impunity.

Alioth smiled faintly at Severus and dipped his head respectfully, “Good evening, Professor.”  He then took his leave.  With Peter bound, Sirius wandless, and Remus safely potioned for the night, Alioth didn’t expect they would need any help getting from the entrance hall to the headmaster’s office.  Honestly, Alioth had no desire at all to see Albus tonight, so he’d been planning to excuse himself regardless.

He returned to his dorm, deciding to spend the night reading one of the books he’d borrowed from Black Palm Hall the previous night.  Perhaps it would provide adequate distraction from how badly he wanted to curse Hermione for not only the act of disarming Severus but the fact that she’d put him in danger by doing so.  Damn girl seriously needed to learn that “intelligent” didn’t mean “always right”.

It was a lesson Albus could have done with learning as well.

When Alioth turned in his completed potion sample of his final potions class of the year, Severus quietly instructed him to remain behind.  He cleaned up his station and packed up his supplies at a leisurely pace while the rest of the class began to empty out.  He was at the sink scrubbing his knives when the door clicked shut and he felt the gentle hum of the locking and silencing wards settling into place.

A moment of silence passed while Alioth’s back was to his professor before Severus spoke.  “It is my understanding that Potter will be spending the summer with his... godfather,” he hesitated briefly before saying “godfather” as though it pained him to use a term that wasn’t in any way degrading.  He still managed to sneer it disdainfully enough to make his feelings on the man clear.

Alioth smiled a little to himself, but didn’t comment as Severus continued.

“Black is hardly sane at this point,” he ventured.

Alioth nodded, using a spell to dry the knives before returning to his station to pack them up.  “Professor Lupin will be living with them this summer.  I trust he is balanced enough to keep Sirius in check.”

Severus snorted quietly, “And you don’t believe Lupin to be an even greater liability?”

The physically younger man huffed a small laugh, “He’s a werewolf, not a leper.  His condition is entirely controllable.  So, no.  I don’t believe he’s a liability to Harry.”

Severus’ mouth pinched in a moue of distaste.  He hesitated a moment before changing the subject, “So you will be without your companion this summer.  However will you cope?”

Alioth smiled a little wider at that.  “Well, I do hope to see Harry a bit this summer, but I’ve no doubt I’ll be well occupied with the rest of my time.  My father plans to pass his title and full control of the family estate on to me immediately following my graduation, so this coming summer will be spent preparing for that.”

The professor’s brow rose sharply at that.  “He intends to step down?  That is... rather unusual.”

“Given my age, that's true,” Alioth allowed.  “Given his, however, I don’t think it’s too surprising.  He is ninety-three years old this year.  He’s more than ready to pass the torch, so to speak.”

“I see,” Severus conceded.  “Do you feel you will be ready?”

Alioth nodded with confidence.  “I’ve trained for it extensively.  I started taking on portions of the estate management more than a year ago, though my father has, of course, retained final approval of everything.”  He finished packing his things and moved around to lean against the front of his work station, facing Severus who was standing in front of his desk.  “I’m looking forward to it, actually.  I have a lot of plans for the estate.  My father has grown lazy about it over the last couple of decades and has done little more than maintain it, bringing nothing new to it.”

“May I ask what sort of plans?” Severus ventured, appearing interested.

Alioth worked to moderate his smile, ridiculously thrilled with the fact that Severus seemed genuinely interested in Alioth’s thoughts and plans for his future.  Their future if Alioth had anything to say about it.  “The Black family has a great many sizeable residential properties,” Alioth explained.  “A few generations ago, most of those properties were either residences or frequent retreats of our expansive family.  At present, however, most of them are sitting vacant.  I’ve been restoring and remodeling the properties for a while now.  I’m also converting some of the grounds of many of the properties to include greenhouses, fields, orchards, and pastures.  Once I invest in a couple dozen more house-elves, the properties will become, not only self-sufficient, but they should each generate a tidy income every year.  That’s only one of my plans, of course.  I’m also looking to invest heavily in the international market, both magical and muggle.  I’ve got more ideas percolating, but nothing set in stone just yet.”

“It sounds as though you are ready indeed,” Severus nodded, looking impressed.  There was a moment of silence before he took a deep breath and pushed himself fully to his feet.  “Enjoy your summer, Mr. Black,” he said, his tone warm and fond. 

Alioth smiled widely, warmth flooding his still chest.  “You, too, Professor.”