Chapter 25: A Queen At Play

Malfoy and his cronies didn't come back to classes for two days. Their first appearance was in the Great Hall at breakfast, which gave Hermione and the other Gryffindors a chance to see the first stage of Blaise's plans in action.

A silence swept over the Great Hall when the three of them entered: waiting to see what Blaise would do. She ignored the hush and the approach until Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle has all but reached the Slytherin table.

"Oh, there you are," she said, looking up casually; somehow her voice carried throughout the Great Hall. "I'd have thought---" her voice hardened---"you'd have been too ashamed to show your ugly faces after getting sent arse-over-teakettle by a girl--- three-on-one and you still couldn't manage it." Nasty smile. "Guess you've learned better than to cross strega."

Draco looked at her, pale-faced. And said nothing. To the surprise of nearly all his schoolmates. Only Hermione noticed the little glance he sent Snape's way, the approving nod from the professor.

Blaise leaned back in her seat, considered him thoughtfully. "You know, it's really too bad you didn't approach me with the proper respect." Her laugh had a nasty note to it. "You're not bad-looking, after all---" She gave him a blatant once-over. "On the other hand---" She leaned forward suddenly. "You know, my father always says that 'rapist' is another name for 'lousy lover'---" General laughter, from all four houses--- "What, you were afraid you wouldn't measure up to my standards, so you decided not to bother trying?" More laughter, and Blaise shook her head mockingly. "Silly boy--- you'd at least have gotten points for effort, playing nice. As it is---" she snapped her fingers, leaned over the table and called, "Oi! Parkinson!" Pansy looked up, startled. "He's all yours, sweets--- assuming, of course, that you'd want a male who's that much of a boor!" She sat back, picked up her fork, then looked up at Draco. "You still here?" Flick of her free hand. "Go along, then."

Draco stared at her for a moment. Then shrugged and walked on, much to the surprise of the entire hall.

Including Blaise, who looked after him curiously. Then she turned to the Teasdales, going into something of a huddle.

"Well, that's nice," Ginny said approvingly. "Maybe her mother put the fear of strega into his father--- you think?" Harry grinned, but looked a little nervous; it appeared that Ginny's bloodthirsty streak had taken him by surprise--- though it was apparently old news to her brothers, none of whom had been surprised at her reaction to the incident. Hermione herself had been too preoccupied with Blaise to give that dynamic the attention she otherwise would have.

"I don't know...." Hermione wondered what was going on. And not least why Draco was behaving himself.

******

It was Friday, which meant they had Potions last thing. Blaise showed up after the other Slytherins, still flanked by the Teasdale twins--- and Draco finally retaliated, though in a comparatively mild form.

"Still need your bodyguards, Zabini?" he asked coolly. "Wouldn't have thought strega needed protection from a pair of third years."

Blaise returned his icy look with one of her own. "What makes you think they're bodyguards, Malfoy?" she asked coolly. "I just like their company---" mischievous look--- "among other things." She half turned and caught Florian around the neck, pulled him down for a kiss.

To judge by the second's wide-eyed look on his face, Florian hadn't expected that, but he rallied gamely, putting an arm around Blaise and doing a little "dip" before letting her up. Blaise released him, grinning, and turned back to Draco. "See? Strega always makes the first move."

At which point they all noticed Snape standing in the doorway of the Potions classroom. Blaise grinned unrepentantly. "Time for class, then--- see you later, Flor---" this with a kiss on his cheek, before she sauntered into the classroom.

Hermione, coming right behind her, was close enough to hear Snape say very quietly to Blaise, "I want to speak with you after class, Miss Zabini." In no very friendly voice, either.

What in the world?

*****

After class, Blaise stopped by Snape's desk, with a little wave of her hand to reassure her friends to go on without her. Good; she trusted him enough to be alone with him, at least. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes." He got to his feet. "My office?"

Wary look--- to be replaced with a hard-won confidence. "Of course." She sauntered ahead of him through the door and took a seat by the fireplace without being invited. Cheeky.

He sat behind his desk. "I'll come right to the point--- I'm concerned about your treatment of Florian Teasdale." Ordinarily, he'd have tried to put her at her ease--- but given what she'd just been through and what she knew about him, he rather thought that any small talk would have the opposite effect. And the other direction--- sarcasm--- was simply out of the question. It'd be even odds as to whether Blaise would leave enough of him for her mother to finish if he didn't tread lightly. No wizard in his right mind trifled with strega, even if he was her teacher. "Miss Zabini, while I understand that what you have been through has undoubtedly affected you, and while I applaud your handling of Malfoy thus far, I must insist that you not use it as an excuse to abuse a young and potentially vulnerable boy."

Blaise stared at him. "Florian? Sir--- what?"

Snape sighed. "You're strega--- and he was raised by and with strega, namely his mother and oldest sister. Young men from that background have a... different... reaction to women from the norm. Far less of what might be called Oedipal antagonism and far more of a tendency to... cooperate with the opposite sex." Thinking of himself with Ellen. Trying not to shake.

"Mum always says you're natural feminists," Blaise said casually, then did a double-take. "But what does that have to do with Florian?"

"I should think," he said waspishly, "that it would be obvious. That young man is very susceptible to your... whims. I would be most disappointed in you if you used the excuse of... recent events... to push him beyond what he's ready to handle." He leaned closer to her. "Because make no mistake about it, Miss Zabini--- he will do what you wish, even if it hurts him, even if it terrifies him. You have that kind of power--- and with it responsibility." It had taken him years to learn to withstand that kind of pressure. And he could only be grateful that Claudia had never brought the full weight of strega to bear on him, and that Ellen hadn't been strega at all.

Blaise paled. "I wouldn't dream of hurting him, honestly! I didn't even think---"

"That, Miss Zabini, is pr---" he's been about to say, precisely what Malfoy would have said about you, but decided that that would be cruel. "Precisely the problem. Please do think, and please be careful of him. Having your own traumas is no excuse to infect others with them--- particularly when the others look up to you and respect you."

His voice was harsher than he liked, considering what Blaise had been through.... But if only someone had said it to Ellen....

Blaise, meanwhile, looked at him insolently. "Bit rich coming from you, isn't it? Hermione told me what happened in the Malfoys' dungeon."

If it had been anyone else, or any other topic, he'd have snapped a sharp retort--- several sprang to his lips. But it was his cousin, strega, and a topic undoubtedly close to her own heart at the moment. He allowed the weariness and the nagging guilt he still carried from that night to show on his feature. "Blaise," he said softly, "if you never believe me again, believe that if I'd had any other option, I'd have taken it. And believe that I am doing and will do everything in my power to... enable Hermione to realize the full of her power."

Blaise studied him for a long moment, with the gaze of strega, that penetrating hard look that could bore through a man's soul. "I believe that," she said finally. "But are you prepared to do whatever she needs from you--- or even wants?"

Strega's question, a question about power and control. "The first, yes," he said without hesitation. "The second... I do have a responsibility for her, cousin. And if it's a question of her wants or her needs---"

Blaise waved that aside. "I'm not expecting you to be stupid," she said. "I'm talking about not being selfish."

"There's no question of that," he said quietly.

She nodded. "Good." Pause. "Is that it? Because the twins and I are planning to wind up Malfoy a bit more, and I need to get up to the library before supper---"

He had no idea what she'd want in the library, and didn't want to know. But--- "Speaking of Mr. Malfoy--- I had a bit of a talk with him--- as did his father. He's... in enough of a vulnerable state that it might be possible to break some of the brainwashing his father's done on him--- if you tread carefully."

Blaise shot him a suspicious look. "Cousin Severus---" thank Merlin, at least she was on familiar terms with him again--- "are you telling me to be nice to that scum?"

"Never. I'm just suggesting that you might want to choose your brands of nastiness carefully, to your best advantage and that of your family."

Blaise looked thoughtful. "Makes sense." Impish look. "Can I teach him the proper way to approach strega?" Leaving no doubt as to what sense of approach she meant.

Snape rolled his eyes. "As long as you don't use the Imperius Curse to do it, I see no reason why you shouldn't teach him better manners--- that family could use a little consciousness-raising." He waved a hand. "Now, off with you--- on to your next prank."

Blaise grinned. "Thanks, Cousin Severus." And she sauntered out.

He shook his head after her. Strega to the core.

And nothing like Ellen Wilkes, really. He was overreacting, no doubt. But Florian Teasdale didn't need the same kind of experience he'd had.

To say nothing of the fact that Claudia would kill him if anything happened to her sibs while they were in his care. And she already had issues enough with him.

******

Hermione waited outside the Potions classroom even though Blaise had sent them on; it was partly curiosity to find out what Snape had wanted and partly concern--- because she had the sense that her friend wasn't altogether happy with her "Cousin Severus".

Not that--- to be fair--- Hermione was completely so either. This whole business with Malfoy had her shaken up a good bit, and what she'd been letting herself think and feel about Snape... wasn't necessarily what she was feeling. Right now she was having trouble not-feeling the confusing mix of arousal, fear, and shame that had gone through her that night... and what made it worse was that ethics demanded she not blame Snape. Never mind what her guts wanted... even if she could sort out what that was.

She snapped out of the not-wholly-unpleasant reverie as Blaise came out. "What happened?"

"Thought I said not to wait."

"I'm your friend, and I wanted to know."

Blaise gave her an appraising look, then shrugged. "C'mon--- we can talk on the way to the library."

"It's nearly dinner."

"Not to study--- I just need to pick something up."

"All right then---" as they walked--- "So, what did he want?"

"Fussing about how I was treating Florian--- wanted to make sure I wasn't doing harm to a vulnerable young person." Blaise shot her a wry glance. "Told him that was pot calling kettle."

Hermione snorted. "What did he say?"

Blaise lowered her voice. "Let me put it this way--- I think you could probably get anything you wanted out of dear Cousin Severus at the moment--- his conscience has him in a hammerlock and is beating his head against the wall." Blaise grinned. "So the ball, my dear, is in your court."

Hermione digested this. And was only certain of one thing. "I like that. Oh, I like that."

Blaise grinned. "Thought you would--- any notion what you're going to do with him?"

Hermione considered. There was something she wanted from him, of course... but she couldn't bring herself to say. Wasn't sure if she had any business wanting more from him. "I'll think about it. A favor like that shouldn't be squandered."

Her friend's grin got wider. "That's the spirit, love--- we'll make a Slytherin of you yet!" They had reached the library, and Blaise led her straight to the restricted section.

"What are we after?"

Blaise was combing the shelves rapidly. "Ah--- here it is!" She drew out a book.

Hermione stared. "What in the world would you want with that thing? I mean, I'm a Gryffindor, and I wouldn't even---"

Blaise was grinning. "'Course you wouldn't, love--- and neither would I." She assumed an innocent expression. "I was thinking, though, that dear little Draco could use a few lessons--- and you know, it wouldn't do to start with anything too advanced--- too complicated, if you will---"

She stopped, because Hermione had choked up with laughter. "And I assume---" she got out--- "That you're going to, ah, suggest it to him at dinner?"

"Of course," Blaise said nonchalantly. "A little food for thought, don't you think?"

And they left the library, trying to smother their giggles.

*****

The entire school, of course, was keeping an eye on the Slytherin table--- waiting to see what Blaise would do next. And she didn't disappoint them

Blaise sauntered into the Great Hall, with the Teasdales at her back--- and a book in her arms. She came right up to the Slytherin table.

"Oi, Malfoy---" She sauntered up to him. "Thought your technique could use a little help---" And she tossed the book into his lap.

He went bright red--- and turned even darker as several of his housemates looked over his shoulder--- and guffawed. "That bad?" "Merlin's eyeteeth---" "Poor Pansy!"

Blaise surveyed the chaos with evident satisfaction. "Well, if a man has to bring goons along to hold a woman down, you can bet he doesn't figure on being able to keep her there on the, ah, merits of his skill, now can you?" And then, to more laughter, she tweaked Draco's earlobe, and headed on down the table to the place that her Scarlatti cousins (who were now speaking to her regularly) had saved.

Meanwhile, students from the other three Houses were trying to get a look at the book Blaise had given him. The Ravenclaws, in particular, were shooting smug glances at the Gryffindors.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"And why are they looking at us like that?" Ron added, disgruntled.

Hermione snorted into her pumpkin juice. As one, her friends--- and most of the rest of the table--- turned to look at her. "Hermione," Harry asked, "what do you know about this?"

"Er--- I was there when Blaise got the book out the library---"

"So what is it?" Two of the third year girls leaned over keenly.

Hermione, caught between laughter and embarrassment, steeled herself. "It's--- er--- Quidditch in Bed."

The reactions from her housemates, she thought, were rather telling of the levels of, so to speak, experience they had. Nearly everyone under fifth year looked either confused or shocked--- but the entire male portion of the Sixth Form and a good bit of the fifth year blushed, while, to a woman, the older girls smirked.

"I'd say it was a perfect choice," Katie Bell said playfully, while the twins' ears turned red.

"Spot on--- at least, if she's trying to start him off slow," said Angelina Johnson innocently.

Hermione couldn't resist. "That's what she told me--- didn't want to give him anything too complicated to start with---- reckoned he was about at that level---"

"Oh, shove it, Hermione," Ron scowled, while Harry looked down at his plate, studiously avoiding Ginny's eyes.

Ginny, meanwhile, had clearly caught on. "Don't worry, Ron," she said innocently. "I'm sure Catlin will be happy to help you correct any, um, deficiencies, in your education---"

"Oh, shut up," Ron scowled, while Harry blushed even harder. Ginny traded a conspiratorial glance with Hermione, then leaned close to Harry and whispered something. He blushed even harder, but he did cheer up a good bit.

"I say, Hermione," Ginny asked innocently, "d'you think Blaise might be willing to recommend some more--- er--- advanced reading in that... area? For people who are well past the Quidditch in Bed stage, I mean----" Harry was downright purple--- "but just need a little more... inspiration?"

Hermione somehow managed to keep a straight face. "I'd imagine she'd be delighted to help out."

"Good." And Ginny resumed eating, with perfect aplomb, while Harry tried to get his blushes under control, not helped by the encouraging noises from the twins.

Colin Creevey, meanwhile, was studying them in confusion. "I don't get it---"

"Good," said Katie. "Don't." She glanced at Alicia Spinnet. "There ought to be at least one Gryffindor male who doesn't learn bad habits---" Both girls succumbed to the giggles.

Hermione took pity on the poor boy, who was looking hopelessly puzzled. "It's--- well, it's sort of the cornerstone of Gryffindor, um, sexual philosophy---"

"It's a sex manual," Ginny said helpfully. "And a really awful one, at least from a witch's point of view."

"Oh, come on, now, ladies." The Weasley twins had had enough. "It's not that bad," said George.

Hermione gave them her trademark arch look. "Really? Let's see---" She sat back in her chair. "Out of a two-hundred-page book, do you know exactly how many chapters are devoted to female anatomy for its own sake? Two. And they're less then ten pages each. Not even a tenth of the book, for those of you who can't do arithmetic either."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "And then there's the way it's written--- it's like a sports manual, for goodness sake." She made a rude noise. "And the chapter titles--- 'Polishing Your Broomstick,' 'Your Bludgers and How to Beat Them,' 'Getting the Quaffle Through the Hoop,' I mean, really!"

All the other girls were snickering, but some of the younger students, male and female alike, were starting to look upset. Hermione felt it was her duty as a prefect to intervene. "The point is," she said firmly, "that it's written for wizards, by wizards, about wizards--- nothing about witches except as it relates to--- ah--- male enjoyment. It's completely one-sided."

Poor Harry, she noticed, had turned as red as Ron's hair, but the Weasleys still looked rebellious. "And the other houses are any better?"

For a moment, Hermione couldn't think of anything except the feel of Snape's hands on her and his voice in her ear--- couldn't help but wonder if that was more typical of Slytherin males than Malfoy. And with the memory, a flash of dark anger--- just like a Slytherin to use pleasure for control, wasn't it?

Fortunately, Ginny came to her rescue, unaware of the need for it. "It looks like it, doesn't it?" she said, gesturing at the other three tables. "Besides, you two are in Sixth Form--- you can check out the Restricted Section and see if the other houses have anything better to say on the subject."

"We'll be glad to help," Angelina put in avidly, as Alicia nodded enthusiastically. "Anything for you boys---"

"And for yourselves," Fred said dryly, but he didn't look nearly as unhappy as he had a moment ago.

Hermione, meanwhile, couldn't help but glance up at the Head Table. And wonder where Snape had learned what he knew on the subject.

A/N The notorious "Quidditch in Bed" belongs to Sphinx. When I asked her for permission to borrow it for Draco-torture, she said, and I quote:

"Well, it's about the only purpose "Quidditch in Bed" would be fit for, no?"

I think that says it all...! LOL

Sphinx also graciously allowed me to embellish on "Quidditch in Bed"--- a number of the chapter titles are mine. :D :D :D

Also, the way the twins walk around bodyguarding Blaise is a deliberate reference to their namesakes in Cyteen by C.J. Cherryh (referenced and cited several times elsewhere in this fic). The Catlin and Florian in that book are bodyguards for Ari Emory... who is the closest thing to Muggle strega imaginable.

Chapter 26: Queens Together

A/N As I recall, the term "Slyffindor Seven" to describe our team of reprobates was coined by Minerva McTabby, who's written a brilliant parody of PtQ. If I've mis-attributed this, will someone let me know so that I can correct my error and give credit where it's due?

On Monday, Claudia Teasdale arrived.

The Slyffindor Seven first found out about this when they came into the Great Hall to find an extra place at the staff table--- and occupying it, someone Hermione would have known for a Teasdale even if the twins hadn't immediately peeled off from the group to go greet their sister. Claudia Teasdale had the same slender frame as her siblings, though hers managed a bit more in the way of curves than Catlin's; the same green eyes and rich brown hair, the same sharply carved features, too strong for ordinary female beauty. A cane rested next to her on her chair, with a handle carved like a dragon's head. She was chatting animatedly with Professor Figg; Severus, Hermione noted, was nowhere in sight.

Claudia broke off her conversation to hold open her arms to her siblings; their embrace was a little more stylized than Hermione would have expected, but then, they were Slytherins.

The rest of the group exchanged glances. "So that's Claudia Teasdale," Ron said; Hermione recalled that she had been--- or was--- involved with his oldest brother, Bill.

"Yes." Blaise's voice was... strange. Quiet, low, thoughtful, and just the tiniest bit harsh. Looking at her, Hermione saw that her friend's eyes were hooded, and focused entirely on the newcomer. "I'm going to go... pay my respects," she said, and headed off toward the staff table without another word.

Left to the themselves, the Gryffindors exchanged glances. "Wonder what that's about?" Harry asked. "I mean, I know Claudia Teasdale's an Auror--- but I just don't see the Ministry sending one to deal with Malfoy--- especially not with---" he lowered his voice--- "everything else."

Meaning the rumors of Voldemort's increasing power. Hermione nodded. "I'll bet she's here on her own," she said absently, wondering more about Blaise's response than Claudia's presence--- which she'd bet anything was either Florian's doing--- or Snape's.

They watched from the Gryffindor table, but after a while, Blaise and the twins went back to their table, leaving no clue as to what was going on.

******

"So that's Blaise Zabini," Claudia Teasdale said as her sibs and their friend made their way back down.

"Yes." Arabella Figg's lips pursed into a thin line. "May Malfoy rot for what he tried to do to her---"

"One point in favor of your methods, then?" Claudia couldn't resist a dig at the former Head of Slytherin.

Arabella gave her a sharp glance. "Say what you like about me, Claudia--- but he never would have gotten away with that in my house."

Claudia smiled thinly, thinking about things that hadhappened in Slytherin during Arabella Figg's reign. But then, she supposed she couldn't blame Cousin Severus for keeping that to himself....

For other things, however, she could--- and did. Which likely explained why he wasn't here to greet her.

She took a sip of her wine, thinking. She and Blaise Zabini had made arrangements to meet after dinner--- in the South Tower, where Malfoy had attacked Blaise. Claudia had pretended ignorance of this; and Zabini, to her credit, hadn't tried to avoid it.

Tough kid. She had a chance--- better than a chance, in fact. Probability approaching certainty. Claudia wasn't a half-bad Arithmancer; she could still figure the odds.

But all the more reason to settle a few nonlinear variables with Cousin Severus. And she had the whole afternoon.

*****

Snape looked up as the door to his office opened; she didn't bother knocking, and he didn't bother asking. Claudia always had had a tendency to treat his rooms like hers. "Hello, Claudia."

"Hello, Severus." She dropped into one of the chairs by the fire, hooking a leg over it. "Long time and all that." She gave him an insolent glance. "Why weren't you at breakfast?"

"I was under the impression," he said, as gently as possible, "that you wouldn't want to talk to me."

She shrugged slightly. "I've spoken with Blaise Zabini--- we're meeting up in the South Tower tonight."

"Where it happened?" He hadn't thought that Blaise would want to be there.

"Exactly." Claudia took out a hip flask--- relic of her training with Alastor Moody--- and took a swig, offered it to him. "Brandy?"

"No thanks--- it's early in the day."

"Never that early." Awkward silence then, while he cursed himself, as he'd done too many times over the years. Once they'd been friends. And then....

"At the risk of reopening old wounds," Claudia said after a moment, and Severus cringed inwardly. "I never did get a straight answer from you---" She sat up, as much as possible when you were sprawling sideways over the arms of a chair. "How could you do it?"

"I gave you a straight answer ten years ago and more," Snape said quietly, though he couldn't keep his hands from clenching on the desk. "Claudia... you're an Auror--- you have to know what... the alternatives were, for those women."

"Yeah... I just...." She shook her head. "It's not a question of pragmatism--- it's--- how could you do it? After what happened to me---" she locked eyes with him. "After what happened to you?"

Snape steeled himself. He hated arguing with Claudia--- but when it came to debates, he was the better of them. "You've been spending too much time with Gryffindors," he said coldly. "Think like a Slytherin--- it had to be done; it was the only option. I did it. And there are six Aurors walking around today who'd have been dead or worse if I hadn't done what I did."

Claudia snorted, taking another swig from the hip flask. "Lindy Pritchard says she'd still like to jump your bones."

"There?" Snape didn't let the queasy feeling that that comment provoked reach his voice. "Not the worst thing I could've done."

"Not questioning that---"

"Then we're going round in circles." He shook his head.

"I'm not talking about what you did after you became a double agent--- never have. It's how you could...." She shuddered. "How you could have started in the first place. Your so-called 'interrogation techniques.'"

Snape shivered, fighting the urge to bury his head in his hands. He didn't even like to think about it--- and those memories were far too close to the surface at the moment, between Hermione and his cousin. "Claudia... I don't pretend, even for a moment, that what I was doing was right. I know that---"

"Then why did you do it?" Her eyes bored holes in his skull, as only strega's could.

"Because..." he shook his head. "I was fifteen, Claudia. Fifteen and hurting. Because I could lie to myself that it was better than what the others would have done--- better than the violence, better than Cruciatus. Because..." He took a deep breath. "Because I was angry, all right--- angry at my mother, at Ellen--- Merlin's teeth, I think I was even angry at Cousin Claire for not doing something---" He looked at her hauntedly. "angry at you and your family, for having, for being something I couldn't have or even understand...." He let his lips twist cruelly. "Rather like you were when you went into Auror training."

Claudia glared at him. "At least I went after scum, Severus--- at least I didn't take it out on innocents. I never raped an innocent man--- never even played my little Mata-Hari games on anyone who wasn't under Ministry watch. You tortured---"

"I tortured Aurors, professionals. And according to those who did survive, it was... at least marginally better... than what they'd have gotten at, say, Avery's hands---"

Violent shudder. "I suppose I'll grant that one. But not much." She glared at him. "You know how humiliating it would have to be, to know that you've been... seduced into betraying everything you hold dear? At least with violence they could forgive themselves---"

"I know." His voice was harsh; he was skating on very thin ice, emotionally; much more of this and he'd break. "That's why I killed them, after. That, and to keep them out of Avery's hands. I had that much of a conscience, even then--- or at least I was too squeamish."

Claudia stared at him, that ice-cold strega look that scored him to the bone. "Don't defend yourself."

"I'm not. I know... I know it was monstrous. But---" he couldn't help the look of pleading that came up into his eyes. "Can you tell me honestly that I'm at the level of Avery--- or Lucius Malfoy?"

More of that crushing gaze... then slowly, she shook her head. "No--- no you're not. But only because you woke up." She shook her head again, more as if in reflection. "I just don't understand, Severus...." Another look at him. "You talked me out of going crazy, after Black... cornered me. You were the person I counted on, through that--- even Bill--- even Bill didn't understand like you did!" Harsh laugh. "You 'understood'--- understood so well that you could go and abuse other women."

"There's no excuse for what I did," Snape said quietly. "None, except that for the world I was in at the time, what I was doing seemed like mercy."

She looked up at him hoodedly. "But why were you there in the first place?"

She never asked this before; it startled him. "Because they wanted me---"

"I wanted you---"

"I didn't deserve you." She fell silent, staring at him. "Even at fifteen, without the Dark Mark on my arm and soul, I... couldn't deserve you." He choked; even after all this time, the memory could still cause him pain. "Claudia--- d'you remember the Christmas you invited me home with you?"

"As if I'd forget." She glared at him. "You left after two days, as I recall. And I cried for the rest of the vacation."

Snape swallowed hard. "So did I. Because... you... your world... your... life... didn't make any more sense to me than... than the Malfoys make to you. Because... it was something foreign---"

"What was?"

"The way your family... the way you talked, and touched, and laughed. I kept trying to figure out... to figure out what the joke was. I'd never been with people who just laughed." He shook his head. "I didn't understand... anything that was going on. I just knew... I didn't have any business being there."

"And that's when...."

"I didn't join the Death Eaters until the next summer--- I couldn't stand the thought of being trapped in my mother's house for the next two years---"

"I'll grant you that!" Lucretia Andropolous Snape was, depending on your politics, either famous or infamous in pureblood circles.

"And they... they offered me a place to belong, a place that I could understand." His voice, despite his best efforts, broke. "I was... useful."

"Useful torturing female Aurors."

"And developing poisons and hexes--- I was, after all, my mother's son." He gave a hollow laugh. "Claudia, I'm not trying to excuse what I did---"

"Then what?"

"To explain. You did ask--- and that's the best explanation I can offer." He rested his head in his hands, wearily. "All I can say in my defense is that at least I woke up. And I'm trying to... be useful to a worthier cause."

"That's something, I suppose." Claudia sat up. "Speaking of useful--- Blaise Zabini."

"Yes?" They were back on what he hoped was safer ground--- though with Claudia, you couldn't be sure. Even in her student days, she'd been something to reckon with--- and her first three years as an Auror had left their scars. He couldn't blame her for hating him, under the circumstances.

"What's your plan?"

"Whatever she needs--- she is, after all, strega."

"For which favor much thanks."

"Not necessarily." At her inquiring look, he elaborated. "She seems to have felt that strega should not have been... vulnerable to Malfoy and his goons."

Claudia snorted. "We're hardly invulnerable---" her eyes darkened. "Least of all to our own stupidity." She shook her head. "I assume that's what I'm to discuss with her?"

"Tell her whatever you please." He smiled thinly. "I'm not so much a fool as to give orders to strega."

"Good."

He hesitated a moment, the plunged in. "Claudia--- she knows... about what I... what I did." What I am.

"Really." Claudia's voice was dangerously flat. "How did that come about? I wouldn't think it would be the sort of thing you'd share with her under the circumstances."

"It... came out... in the process." Snape sighed. It wasn't his place to tell her about Hermione--- and besides which, he'd allow himself the luxury of being squeamish, there. Slytherin practical cowardice.

"And you're telling me this because?"

"Because it might come up... with Blaise."

"I'll keep that in mind." Playing her cards close to her chest.

"There's something else you should know---" He took a deep breath. No, Claws wasn't going to like this.

"What?"

"Last summer...." He felt his hands knot up in twin lumps. Claudia's eyes bored into his head. "I found out... who it was that betrayed Lily and... and Potter."

Claudia sniffed. "That's old news--- Black did it, and rotted in Azkaban for it, and I only hope the Dementors get their claws on him---"

"No." His voice cut through her rant. "Claudia--- listen--- I have as much reason to loathe Black as you. But... the traitor..." He took a deep breath, feeling the pain shoot through him, echo of the night when he'd realized he'd almost fed Black to the Dementors for a crime he hadn't committed. "The traitor was Peter Pettigrew."

The green eyes on his were like ice. "How?" It was a harsh growl.

"Last summer--- after the TriWizard Tournament--- I... went back. Licked the Dark Lord's boots---" that was literally true--- "and groveled to be let back into the fold." For a moment he thought he saw a flicker of pity in Claudia's eyes, then it was gone. "And I saw Pettigrew with him---"

"So two of Potter's precious friends turned on him---" Claudia's voice was a rasp.

"That's what I wanted to think, too." Another deep breath, trying to calm the queasy feeling that rose up in his stomach whenever he thought about that night. "The Dark Lord... disabused me of the notion."

"And you believed him?" Scorn in her voice.

"What else could I do? Pettigrew was right there with him, fawning over him--- and Black was not only nowhere in sight, but the Dark Lord said we were free to do as we liked with him, should we catch him. Laughed about it--- how for once, we were on the same side as the Ministry." He looked down at his hands. "Laughed at me... that I could finally have the vengeance I'd always wanted--- he was full of... suggestions... as to what I might do."

Claudia didn't even blink. "No more than the piece of filth deserves--- after what he did to both of us---"

Snape shook his head. "No. I don't say I wouldn't like to see him rot in Azkaban... but I've got my limits. Found them the hard way," he added before Claudia could twist the knife.

Claudia stared at him for a long time. "Only fair, isn't it?" she asked. "He didn't have a day's punishment for what he did to either of us--- nice to think he'll suffer for what he didn't do." Thin smile. "Does the Potter boy know?"

"Oh, yes," Snape said thinly. "Black was right there, holding his godson's hand---" well, that was a slight exaggeration, since Black had been in Animagus form for most of the time--- "after the TriWizard Tournament."

"And Potter's friends with Zabini--- and my sibs." The look in Claudia's eyes was lethal. "If he lays a hand on any of them--- Potter included--- he'll have me to deal with."

"And me as well." At her startled look, he nodded. "Oh, yes--- if nothing else, I'd welcome a chance to show the Headmaster what kind of... things... Black's capable of."

"Maybe he'll believe, if it's one of his precious Gryffindors Black sets on." Claudia glared balefully. "Well, if you of all people are willing to vouch that Black's innocent of the Potters' deaths, then I suppose I've got to believe it." She snorted. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

"I don't either." He smiled, thinly, taking the opportunity to score a point. "But, as you'd likely point out, I've got enough innocent blood on my hands."

"Black's hardly innocent." She shrugged. "Still, I'd blasted well like to see him punished for what he did do---prove to the rest of the world that a Slytherin's life--- and more--- are worth the same as a Gryffindor's." He nodded in wordless agreement: she'd summed it up nicely. She started to get to her feet, swinging her legs down from the arm of the chair so that she was sitting like a normal person. "You've probably got classes to teach---"

"It's all right; you're always welcome here---" He hadn't realized how much he'd missed Claudia until she was about to leave. Again.

She gave him a steady look. "You know, I used to adore you, Severus. There was a time when I'd have done anything you wanted--- and I do mean anything." She snapped her fingers, then leaned back in her chair. "My seventh year... I was so glad you were back... and that whole year, that whole time---" she shook her head. "That was after you'd gone and made a monster of yourself." Steady look. "How did you do it? How did you sit there and look me in the eye, that whole year, knowing that you'd... that you were as bad as Sirius Black?"

He sighed. "If you remember, Claudia, I avoided meeting your eyes as much as possible."

She appeared to give that some thought. "Yeah, as a matter of fact I do remember that." Hollow laugh, the twin of his. "You know, at the time, I thought it was because I was strega--- and an adult witch. That you---" her voice dropped to a whisper--- "That you wanted me, and you were being noble."

His laugh wouldn't come, even hollowly. "I suppose I was at that--- you see, I knew what I was." He met her gaze as steadily as he could manage. "And I didn't want what I'd become to touch you--- to soil you."

She considered that for a moment. Then, "Maybe it would have been better if you had--- at least I'd have known what I was getting into at the Ministry... with your old friends." Heavy irony there. She looked at him. "And maybe someday you'll try and pay back your debt."

"I don't owe it to you." This was an issue he wanted desperately to dodge.

"And what about the others?" She was relentless.

He swallowed convulsively. "If they want to ask it of me---"

"Lindy said she'd done."

"Fifteen years ago." He licked his lips. "And believe it or not, I didn't know what she was asking. It never occurred to me...." His throat was dry. "It never occurred to me she'd ever want me near her again."

"What if she asked now? Or one of the others?"

He swallowed hard. "That's between me and them." Because, truth to tell, if one of the women he'd... manipulated... during his double-agent period--- the only ones he'd left alive--- wanted a... rematch... he didn't honestly know what he'd do. Or how he'd live with himself in the morning.

How do you do it now? he mocked himself. You've no more right to the air you breathe now that you would if--- But the thought still made him shake.

Claudia, meanwhile, was smiling thinly: she'd scored a point and she knew it. "It'd be good for you," she said at last. "To know how they felt."

"I did," he said, unable to control himself. Then, with an effort, he managed calm. "You read... Ellen's... file."

Sober look. "I suppose. But---" she shook her head. "'D be nice to get some of our own back, for once." She got to her feet. "Speaking of which, I'd better go scout out the South Tower, think about what I'm going to say to your cousin."

She sauntered over to the door, paused in the doorway to look back at him. "You think about what I've said, too. Payback."

And with that, she was gone, leaving him so shaken he wasn't sure if he could stand, let alone teach his next class.

******

Blaise made her way up the stairs to the South Tower, feeling mildly disoriented. Malfoy's not here, she reminded herself, and this was my place before he ever took it.

She'd gotten her pride back. Maybe it was time she took back her place too.

Claudia Teasdale was sprawled over Blaise's armchair, reading. She looked up as Blaise stepped off the staircase. "Hey."

"Hey." There being only the one chair, Blaise leaned against the wall.

"That's thoughtless---" And with a wave of her wand, Claudia conjured a second chair. "There we are." Blaise sat. "So."

"So." A long pause--- a staring contest. Strega could get stuck in those forever--- or until one of them figured how to break it without losing face. Her mother had warned her about this kind of thing, and practiced it with her. "You're here to... advise me."

Slight smile. "You could say that." Another pause, thoughtful rather than challenging this time. "Not that you seem to need it--- you've got Malfoy cowed."

Blaise felt a warm swelling of pride at the approval from a woman who was, after all, her idol. "I'm strega," she said in what she hoped was a cool tone.

"That you are." Hint of amusement. "Being strega doesn't mean being right all the time."

"I know that---" She hadn't meant to snap; got control of herself. "Found that out the hard way."

The smile this time was warmer. "So did I."

Blaise looked at her in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"Just what it sounds like." She tapped the cane sitting by her chair. "I got this--- the hard way." Blaise was now thoroughly confused; she'd always heard that Claudia Teasdale's right leg had been crippled in a Quidditch accident. "Did my sibs--- or, for that matter, Cousin Severus--- ever tell you about what happened to me, my first year?"

Now they were on familiar ground. "Yes to both--- the twins' first year was the year that Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban."

Thin smile. "Good--- so you know." Claudia Teasdale folded her arms over her chest. "You know that scum backed me into a corner and tried to rape me--- an eleven-year-old--- because he didn't like my friends. Didn't like me corrupting a good little Gryffindor---" She broke off, her hands clenched into fists. After a moment, she looked over at Blaise, with a wry smile. "See? It's okay to never-get-over."

I'm not eleven, Blaise thought, torn between astonishment that her idol could be that, well, freaked out by anything--- and a touch of smug pride, because she was already starting to feel sane about Malfoy. "How does that relate to your leg? I thought that happened in a Quidditch accident."

Claudia smiled reminiscently. "That's the official story." She looked off into the distance. "And listen, what I'm saying here goes no farther--- Cousin Severus knows about it, and Bill Weasley, and my parents, and a select few at the Ministry. No one, and I do mean no one, my sibs included, needs to know otherwise."

Blaise was now thoroughly intrigued. "What happened?"

"Well," Claudia drawled, "you could say I happened." She put her hands behind her head and looked up at the ceiling. "As you can imagine, I was a bit of a mess, after Black came after me." Her bad leg swung stiffly off the edge of the chair. "Honestly, if I hadn't had Bill and Cousin Severus to lean on...." She shook her head, then abruptly, her whole manner changed. "Check this out." She turned sideways in her chair, pushing up her right sleeve.

Blaise leaned over in her chair; it wasn't hard to spot what Claudia meant. "Wow!" Encircling the older woman's arm like a bracelet were a series of colorful snake tattoos, all writhing about in a sinuous dance.

"Yeah, wow." Claudia's laugh was harsh. "You know why I've got them?"

"Why?"

"Black." Claudia let her sleeve fall, dropped back into her sprawl on the chair. "It started about six months after Black came at me--- everyone thought it had blown over." Sharp laugh. "As if it ever would. The first couple of weeks, Black was persona non grata--- Lily Evans slapped him full in the face in the Great Hall one morning, and Bill told him publicly that he was ashamed to be a Gryffindor because of what Black had done to me." She shook her head. "And then, a few weeks later, it was like nothing had ever happened....

"Except for me. Because it had happened. And every time I saw him, walking around like he was king of the school, I just got so mad---" Her fists clenched. "The teachers, they'd been so nice about it at first--- well, most of them; I don't think Minerva McGonagall ever quite believed me---" Shrug. "But after a while... it was just like, well, it's over, what have you got to be mad about? But I still was...."

She traced a finger over her arm. "That's when I started--- cutting myself. There just---" her voice went to a whisper--- "wasn't anywhere else to put the anger. So I took it out on myself. I'd go down to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom--- that's where I'd hidden after the attack---"

Blaise startled, and Claudia looked over at her. "That's where I went too--- after Malfoy and his goons came at me."

Claudia nodded approvingly. "Good place for it---" she laughed harshly. "Must have given Cousin Severus a bit of a turn--- history repeating itself. And you did to Malfoy and his goons what I did to Black--- nice little hex." She shook her head. "You know, it was Cousin Severus who found me, both times--- after Black, and... with the razor.

"And you know what he said to me? 'If you've got to do it, Claws--- do it like a Slytherin. Get yourself a plan, and make it something to be proud of. Something to show that piece of filth what you are.' And he taught me--- taught me how to make the tattoo paint, so that the snake would move, helped me with the design--- I knew it had to be a snake, because I'm a Slytherin--- and when I was ready to do it, he held my arm steady while I put the ink in." She looked away, her eyes abstracted. "And he listened to me, the whole time we were planning--- just let me say whatever I was thinking; didn't judge me for being... angry, still. And, the funny thing was, when I had the tattoo, when I could look down at my arm and see my own mark there--- I felt better."

Blaise didn't have much of a background in psychology beyond what the prefects got, but she rather thought the talking might have helped as much as the tattoo. And was surprised that Claudia didn't recognize it. Maybe it's easier to see that kind of thing from the outside. "What about the others--- the other snakes?"

Claudia laughed thoughtfully. "Yes... the others. The others." She rubbed her arm. "Remember what I said, about strega... not being perfect?"

"Mmmm."

"Well, I certainly wasn't." She looked away. "Everyone thinks I started playing professional Quidditch right after I graduated from Hogwarts... well, they're right as far as that goes... except there was a bit of a detour in-between." She looked over at Blaise.

"You were an Auror the whole time, weren't you?" The little hint was enough.

"Right in one." Claudia leaned back again, arms folded behind her head. "I wanted to go straight into the Ministry--- train under Mad-Eye Moody, the whole deal. Prove once and for all that not all Slytherins were scum." She looked up at the ceiling. "Fudge... had other ideas.

"I was the perfect double agent, according to him--- Slytherin, a brilliant Quidditch player..." She looked over at Blaise. "And drop-dead gorgeous." Blaise felt a knot forming in her stomach. "The perfect Mata Hari--- I'd play pro Quidditch, and ingratiate myself with the suspected Death Eaters who'd wormed their way back into high society."

Something of Blaise's thoughts must have shown on her face, for Claudia laughed. "Yeah, right, kid--- exactly. Wish I'd been as smart." Bitter laugh. "As it was, I thought it was a brilliant idea--- go right into the kind of situation I'd faced with Black, only this time, I'd be the one in control.

"Was I ever wrong."

Claudia stared out at something Blaise couldn't see for a long moment, then--- "I was strega, see--- had been since about my fourth year. Figured I could handle anything they threw at me." Blaise startled, and Claudia looked over at her. "Exactly."

"What happened?" Blaise couldn't make her voice work normally; it came out as a whisper.

"I was wrong," Claudia repeated. "Well--- not completely. They weren't all perverts." Blaise couldn't suppress a shudder. "It was just... acting like I was a cute little plaything... it made me sick, even when the men weren't... being twisted." She tapped her arm. "After the first one... I figured I might as well go back to the old tricks. Gave myself another serpent--- the men didn't mind; they thought it was kinky, or that it showed Slytherin pride--- two good things in their books. And it helped, for a while.

"But not enough. And I was too damn stubborn proud to admit I had no business doing what I was doing, too damn bull-headed to back out---" Wry smile. "I was strega, wasn't I? And strega's supposed to know."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because being strega doesn't mean being right--- it means being certain." This time the laugh was almost amused. "Take a look at Snape's mother if you don't believe me--- the Wicked Witch of the North." Blaise had to concede that point. "But at the time... I thought it did."

"Just like me." Blaise was beginning to understand why Claudia was willing to pay attention to her... and beginning to make sense of... everything.

"Just-like." Claudia leaned back again. "Well, anyway, one of my 'gentleman callers' pushed me too far--- and I snapped. Blasted him just like I'd done Black---" Her smile was one of savage satisfaction. "But not before he got my kneecap--- shattered it.

"Of course, it was a mess at the Ministry--- they had to hush it up, then get me to play my way through one last Quidditch match--- bribed all hell out of both teams to play it the way the Ministry needed...." She shook her head. "And the rest, as they say, is history---" she grinned--- "I'm sure you've noticed I'm leaving out a lot of the political details of my shift from Slytherin Quidditch-head to Auror--- but a little mumbo-jumbo from St. Mungo's goes a long way." She gave Blaise a hooded look. "So."

"So." Just like the beginning of their conversation. Full circle. "Nice to know I'm not the only one."

"Thought it would be." Claudia reached down, drew a hip flask from her boot, had a swig and offered it to Blaise. "Brandy?"

"Please." It was good brandy, too; Blaise took a judicious sip, then handed it back. For a moment, they sat in silence, while Blaise digested their conversation. "I'm not going to do anything stupid, you know."

"Good." Claudia took another sip. "Didn't think you were... I just wanted you to know... you're not the only one."

"Thanks."

"Not even the only strega."

"Yeah."

"And having it happen doesn't make you any less strega. We're still human."

Blaise took a deep breath, decided--- a rare thing for a Slytherin--- on total honesty. "Hard to take, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Kind of shakes your world."

"Wobbles it."

"Better word." Another sip of brandy.

"Can you get over it?"

"I don't know." More brandy. "I haven't."

"Why not?"

Claudia shook her head. "Don't know." She looked over at Blaise. "Maybe because getting better... it'd be too much like letting them win, you know?"

"How?"

"Like... what they did was okay, because I'm okay."

Blaise thought about that for a moment. "Seems like just the opposite to me."

"Bill always says that--- said that, before I stopped talking about it with him." Another look at Blaise. "Never thought I'd heard it from someone who'd been there."

Blaise took a deep breath and the plunge of a lifetime. "I'm winning. Malfoy's losing. Slytherin's behind me and I'll keep it that way. Wouldn't have happened if I hadn't put him in his place--- which wouldn't have happened if he hadn't come at me."

"Point." Claudia looked at her. "Same game--- different rules. You're somewhere you can win. I got stalemated."

"Yeah." Blaise decided not to argue. After all, it was a different situation. At least, what Claudia had done afterward was something entirely different. And come to think of it, Slytherin House internal politics versus inter-House relations made the initial incidents something different too.

And knowing that strega could do a cock-up like anyone else... well, she didn't precisely like it, but at least it made for an easier standard to live up to--- in one sense. It also meant a lot of second-guessing herself, but then, maybe that was what Claudia was trying to help her do, and her mother.

And Cousin Severus. She wondered if Claudia knew about Snape.

As if reading her mind, Claudia took a deep breath. "On something of another subject--- Cousin Severus told me you know... about him."

"Being a Death Eater."

"And what he did as one." Claudia held her eyes.

"Yes." She wasn't sure if Claudia knew about Hermione; it wasn't her place to tell. But--- "How do you... you're his friend---" She had meant to ask how Claudia made sense of what Snape had done. Because clearly she still thought well of him; she was at any rate willing to acknowledge their family ties--- and the Teasdales were much more distant relatives of his than Blaise and her mother.

"I was his friend." Flat tone.

Well, that answered that question. "It's weird... how he can be so supportive of us---"

Harsh laugh. "I had that conversation with him--- for about the thousandth time, mind--- this afternoon." Claudia played with the handle of her cane. "Ten years and more, and I still can't figure him out."

Figure him out? Or forgive him? "Did he--- were you---"

"No--- never. Though I did ask---"

Blaise blinked. "Excuse me?"

"That was kind of a non sequiteur, wasn't it?" The cane was twirling in her fingers. "I didn't find out... what he'd done... until after I was... through with my Mata Hari routine. I came here and... confronted him about it." Claudia's eyes were hooded; Blaise came very close to feeling sorry for Cousin Severus. "We talked...." Another slug of brandy. "And I asked him--- if he'd take me to bed. Do what he did to those women... but for me--- you understand the difference?"

Blaise did. Particularly since lately she'd been thinking that it might be fun to tie Draco Malfoy to a four-poster and see how he liked being helpless. Not that she'd hurt him, of course. Much. Just throw a little scare into him....

Claudia's voice brought her back. "Be just what I needed to forget about... what happened, I figured."

"And did he?"

The hand on the flask clenched. "No--- the bastard. Said he couldn't. Said---" she shook her head. "Said a lot of stuff that I probably shouldn't tell you, mostly to the effect that since he hadn't been the one to do it to me in the first place, he didn't 'feel right' about it---" Rude noise--- "Didn't bloody 'feel right'. Bastard."

On impulse, Blaise put a hand on Claudia's shoulder.

The other woman started to shrug it off--- then stopped. "Thanks."

"Fair's fair." And fair was fair. "You think he'd do it with a woman he had... well...."

"One of the ones he 'interrogated'?" Claudia snorted. "Hesays it's not my business. I think he's... shellshocked. You know--- can't cope with it. Probably lose it if he caught a glimpse of someone's ankle." Snort into the flask. "Ah, never mind, I'm rambling. But I think it'd be good for him to be on the receiving end."

"Really." Blaise was starting to think that Hermione could use a talk with Claudia as well.

A/N: The "world wobbling" sort of comment belongs to Deety Carter in Robert Heinlein's The Number of the Beast--- Deety frequently wishes the world wouldn't wobble. >GRIN<

Chapter 27: Queen to Queen

Claudia Teasdale was still there at breakfast the next morning; she came strutting into the Great Hall swinging her cane as she leaned on it. Hermione noticed that Snape still wasn't at meals, and had to wonder at his continued absence.

They had Arithmancy after breakfast; no sooner were they seated than Blaise leaned over to speak with Hermione. "I think you should talk to Claudia Teasdale."

This was the last thing Hermione had expected from her friend. "Why---"

Blaise opened her mouth, then shook her head. "Look--- it's too long to go into. But I think you should tell her... what you told me."

No need to ask what Blaise meant. "Why?" That was, after all, a rather personal sort of thing.

Blaise shook her head. "She was here to talk to me--- about the same kind of thing. And she made a lot of sense."

"Well, she is your hero---" Hermione began, but Blaise shook her head.

"I don't mean like that. I mean... she's a person, Hermione. I mean she knows things. And I think you could do with hearing some of it." Wry grin. "And for that matter, she could use hearing what you have to say." She lowered her voice. "She knows... what... Cousin Severus was... the kind of things he can do."

Hermione started to ask what in the world her friend meant, but at that moment, Professor Vector walked through the door, and they spent the rest of the lesson immersed in Arithmancy.

*****

That evening, when Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindor contingent came into the library, Claudia Teasdale was sitting with the Slytherins. She greeted them with a carefully silent wave as they made their way across to the corner table.

The twins were fairly bubbling; Blaise, on the other hand, was quietly and soberly... there. Present in a way that Hermione had never seen her be present--- not before Malfoy's attack nor after. She had only a moment to take in her friend's bearing, then Blaise spoke. "You guys, this is Claudia Teasdale---"

"Our famous sister!" Both twins spoke at once, and the sister in question laughed.

"Not that famous---"

But Ron was boggling. "Wow--- you played for the Chudley Cannons---"

"Guilty as charged---" The green eyes were warm and twinkling. "And you'd be Bill's brother Ron---" Mischievous grin--- "seems my sister's following a family tradition, there---"

Ron flushed the color of his hair, but Catlin scowled. "Not as many as I'd like---"

Florian, too, was glowering. 'Too bad Malfoy didn't get kicked out on his arse---"

"Like he deserved."

The mirth disappeared from Claudia's eyes in a flash. "You'll settle accounts with him." It wasn't a question. "All of you."

Harry frowned. "That'd be the day--- if what he did to Blaise wasn't enough to get him tossed out---"

Claudia leaned back in her chair, exaggeratedly casual. "Oh, I don't know--- attempted murder and attempted rape weren't enough to get Sirius Black thrown out--- why should Malfoy get treated any differently?"

Harry boggled for a moment, then spluttered. "He didn't--- he wouldn't---"

Hermione glanced at him, alarmed; other than the Headmaster, the three of them were the only ones who knew that Harry's godfather was innocent.

But Claudia Teasdale only looked at him. "You'd be Harry Potter, then?" Harry snapped his mouth shut, nodded. Claudia leaned forward, looking him in the eye. "There's a reason, lad, why everyone was perfectly willing to believe Black capable of betraying your parents--- by some lights, it was only a matter of time before he did something like that." Thin smile. "And your mother... didn't toe the line he wanted her to. Some of us were surprised it took him that long to get her back for not being the jolly good sport some Gryffindor wizards seem to expect 'their' witches to be."

Harry regarded her rebelliously, but said nothing; Hermione could almost see him making a mental note to have a talk with Sirius about his school days. Claudia nodded, apparently satisfied. "Seriously, lad--- it's Slytherin politics at its most intricate. Lucius Malfoy doesn't want Blaise's family after him--- and rightly not--- so they're letting the kids settle it. Good preparation for real life, actually--- and you'll find that Slytherin, all fun aside, is the most pragmatic of the houses." She settled more comfortably in her chair. "Now that we've settled that---"

The evening degenerated into the usual round of Quidditch-talk--- or more to the point, Claudia regaling the Quidditch-heads with tales of her time as Seeker for the Chudley Cannons. Hermione and Blaise, as usual, sat apart. "I can't honestly see why you'd want me to talk to her---"

"You haven't see her in private." Blaise's tone brooked no argument.

Under the circumstances, Hermione was disinclined to give her friend a hard time--- but Claudia Teasdale seemed just like an older version of her sister--- smart, athletic, funny... and not really someone Hermione would want as a confidante.

But as the group broke up, Blaise held Hermione back, and caught Claudia's eye; the latter nodded just slightly. "Listen, you guys--- it's almost curfew," the eldest Teasdale said casually. "I've got some visits I want to make--- haven't been back to Hogwarts in a while---" she stretched. "But you lot should head on up to your common rooms---" The Teasdale twins and the Weasleys did as they were told, but Harry followed very reluctantly, shooting Hermione an odd sort of glance; she tipped him a nod, and he went on with the rest of them.

Claudia looked back at Blaise. "I'm assuming you had a reason for the cut-off?"

"Yes." Blaise drew Hermione forward. "I'm not the only one who could use a dose of common sense around here."

"I'm sure not, but what does that have to do with me?" Now Hermione could see what had impressed Blaise so much. The other woman's eyes were cool, hard and deliberately casual, almost dismissive.

"Same song, different verse." Blaise looked back at Hermione. "Look, I can't make you--- wouldn't if I could---"

"Blaise, Slytherin byzantine games are all very well," Claudia said wearily. "But---"

Hermione judged it was time to make order out of chaos. "Blaise said you'd... helped her," she said slowly. "She thought you might talk with me... about something that happened to me---"

Claudia came alert at once; though she didn't move it was obvious that she was now Paying Attention. "Malfoy sure gets around, doesn't he?"

"It was his father," Hermione clarified. "And..." She broke off. What she could tell either Blaise or Claudia alone, she somehow couldn't say in front of them both.

Blaise seemed to understand. "I'll let you two have at, then---" And she was out the door before either of them could react.

Claudia shook her head, indicated for Hermione to continue, in a respectful silence that was somehow more reassuring than words would have been.

Hermione took a breath and sat down. "It was at Christmas---- actually, it was before Christmas, I guess...." And she told Claudia. Everything.

Silence when she'd finished. Claudia toyed with the handle of her cane in silence. "Well... that's a hell of a load to be carrying at your age." She looked Hermione in the eye. "You told me what happened... but how do you feel about it?"

No one had asked her that before; she wasn't sure how to respond. "I'd like to kill Malfoy," she said after a second. "No--- not kill him--- scare him as badly as he scared me." She folded her hands.

"What about Snape?" Tense, taut question.

"I... don't know." She looked down at her hands. "I--- he didn't want to hurt me, I know that, and I know he saved me from something a lot worse--- and Circe knows he's been... incredible... to me since that night---"

"He's... kept on with you?" Claudia's green eyes snapped fire.

It took Hermione a moment to process the question. "No--- nothing like that---" Then, feeling somehow compelled to honesty, "The thing is... sometimes I wish he would." She rested her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. "And... for a while, I thought that was all I wanted.... Then... Draco went after Blaise and...." She shook her head slightly. "It's all jumbled up--- seeing Blaise freaked out like that reminded me how scared I was that night... scared of Malfoy... and of Snape. Well, not scared--- but... I don't know. It was all... mixed up. I mean... it's not that I can blame him, because he didn't wantto hurt me--- it's just the way I feel--- you know? Knowing the difference doesn't change the gut reaction. And I don't know what to do about it--- I guess I'm still mixed up."

"Wouldn't expect otherwise," Claudia said gently.

Hermione looked up at her. "You mean--- it's okay?"

"Okay?" Claudia snorted. 'Got some news for you, kid--- there is no 'okay' about it. It's not something with a right answer."

Hermione started; she wasn't used to questions like that.

Claudia grinned at her. "I know--- little academic superstars like us are always looking for the right answer. I was lucky enough to be Slytherin--- you learn that some questions aren't binary, or even linear, real fast." She regarded Hermione earnestly. "I'm only asking because it's easier to decide what to do when you know what you want."

Which was maybe the most sensible thing anyone had said to her. The problem was... she wasn't sure what she wanted--- or what was okay to want. Because a part of her desperately wanted the feelings that Snape had given her... except that every time she thought about it, the fear came along with it, the skin-crawling along with the tingles. "That's just it--- I don't know what to want... what's... healthy... to want."

Claudia leaned her head on her arms. "Kid, I'm going to take a bit of a right-angle turn here, and give you some straight talk--- if that's not too much of a contradiction." She smiled slightly. "Look--- what do most people think is the most wonderful thing in the world? I'm not talking about magical stuff, either, or fantasy--- what's the one experience that just about everyone on the world wants to have?"

It took Hermione a moment; she just wasn't like most people.... "Being in love?" she finally hazarded, taking her dorm-mates as an example of "everymen". Or women.

"Right in one." The older woman smiled at her. "Now, think about it--- being wrapped up in another person, thinking as 'we' instead of as an individual, planning everything together--- I'll show my hand a little and put it to you straight--- putting your potential as a person second to what's going to keep the relationship together. Am I the only one in the room seeing a problem?"

Hermione had to laugh. "No."

"But that's what most people want, kiddo. And I'll tell you what else--- they get something like it. Maybe not the whole Romeo and Juliet thing--- but look at all the married couples out there, planning everything together, focusing on how to make things work together---"

Hermione thought of her parents--- they were incontrovertibly a "couple"; things happened together for them, or they didn't happen at all. They even shared an office, for goodness' sakes. "Yes," she said, more in reaction to that image than to Claudia's words.

"There you go. And you know what that is--- getting someone else to meet your needs, instead of meeting them yourself. And maybe that's because they can't." Thin smile. "But most people would tell you that's the best thing in the world, kid. So don't worry about 'healthy'--- think about what would make you happy right about now, and how it's going to make you feel, having gotten it, ten years down the line, and a hundred. And sod all this 'healthy' crap. You're an individual, and what you need is up to you to find out. Doesn't matter if anyone else thinks it works. Just what suits you."

Hermione looked down at her hands, thinking to herself for a long moment.

And very slowly, her decision crystallized. And she realized that she'd made it a long time ago.

"Thanks," she said, and thought about getting up--- and realized she was being stupid. Because here was the best chance imaginable to learn about Snape. And that, she knew, was very much something she wanted.

"Blaise said you knew... what Snape was," she began.

"Thought I did." Bleak look. "We were schoolfriends, kid. My first year was his last--- and my last year was his first as Head of Slytherin." Sour smile. "Threw me for a bit of a loop when I found out... what he'd been doing for the seven years in between."

"Being a Death Eater?"

"That too." Claudia was playing with the cane again. "More what kind of Death Eater he'd been... that he'd been doing the kind of stuff he did to you... all along. I mean, given what he'd seen before that...." She shook her head. "You know what I told Potter about his sleaze of a godfather? About the rape? That was me, kid--- Black pulled me off in a dark corner like Malfoy did Blaise--- only reason he didn't get anywhere was because I blasted him. Went and hid in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom--- yeah, Blaise told me she did the same." She gazed off into the distance. "He was seventeen. I was eleven. And nobody did anything about it--- oh, the teachers were extra-nice to me for a while--- and as I recall, Lily Evans smacked Black upside the head in the middle of the Great Hall when she found out. But that was it... except for Bill Weasley--- and Cousin Severus. They were the only ones who cared.

"And then I found out that Snape had done... what he did. Abused those women-- those Aurors--- like it was nothing---" She broke off, her hands clenching into fists.

Hermione digested that. "Did you ever think," she said after a moment, "that maybe he did what he did... for the same reason he did it to me... because it was the best alternative available? Because he had seen what happened to you--- and he wanted to keep the damage to a minimum?"

Claudia stared at her. "That's what he says. You're telling me the same thing--- after what he did to you?"

"Between Snape and Lucius Malfoy, I'll take Snape any day." Which was more true than she liked to think about. "And---" it was hard to admit, but she suddenly very much needed to say it. "If I could get... what Snape did with me... without it being... in a situation like that... I'd take it, like---" snapping her fingers--- "that. I wouldn't ever want the kind of thing Lucius Malfoy wanted to do to me. And Snape... Snape wanted me to feel good, because it was the only way to protect me. That's the biggest difference. He didn't want to hurt me, and he didn't like that he was hurting me." And I wonder if he liked making me feel good?

"To protect you?" Claudia's laugh was hollow. "Maybe. But what about those Aurors? You think he was protecting them--- or was it another variant on Malfoy's kind of games?"

Hermione shivered at the thought. "Why don't you ask him?"

"I have--- he doesn't make sense on the subject." Snort. "Maybe if you asked him--- you've got a claim on him that I'll never have."

Hermione wondered if Claudia's problems with Snape had more to do with being jealous that Hermione had gotten that kind of attention from Severus--- and knowing that it was nothing to be jealous of--- than anything else. To want something... knowing all the while that you wouldn't want it if you had it... that would drive anyone nuts. And Claudia did have a point--- taken in the abstract, what Snape had done was a horrible thing. It was just... a lot better than the kind of thing that Malfoy would have done. No matter what the reason.

Not that she didn't want to know what Snape would say if she asked him. It was suddenly very relevant.

Claudia, meanwhile, took a hip flask from her pocket--- which reminded Hermione of another Auror--- "That's like Professor Moody used to do!"

Claudia gave her a wry look. "I know--- he's the one who taught me. I was his protégée, when I became an Auror--- now there's a story---"

And she told Hermione about her... career. Hermione listened, appalled... and vowing to herself that she'd never lose her grip that much.

Claudia noticed her reaction. "That's why I'm telling you, kid. I botched, big time. Don't do the same thing I did. Don't do for revenge anything you wouldn't do otherwise." She laughed, tipping the flask back. "I'm getting maudlin--- which means it's time for bed, before I get really drunk." She stood up, then paused. "You gonna be okay, my leaving now?"

Hermione thought about it. "Yes."

Because it was true.

For one thing, she had finally figured out... not a way to the eighth square... but maybe a way to get on the right track. Finally.

A/N The expectation of Gryffindor wizards that their witches be "jolly good sports" is also from Sphinx's "Why Slytherins Are Sexier"--- excellent story, go, read, enjoy!

Actually, Sphinx is now holding a contest for the best-written version of "Quidditch in Bed"--- for full details, go check out her author page on ff.net!