A Surreal Tale: Chapter 1
Title: A Surreal Tale - Chapter 1
Rating: R to NC-17 overall.
Warnings: Cursing, descriptions of adult activity, torture
Story Summary: The year is 1981, and it is rapidly becoming a bad one for Bellatrix Lestrange. A shocking revelation is followed by shocking betrayal, and soon Bellatrix is out of her depth - stranded from all she holds dear. She fends for herself, somehow - no Black could do less, and, years later, re-enters the public arena once more, with her erstwhile son and companion, Antares Black.
But wait - what on earth does this have to do with Harry Potter, ostensibly dead at the hands of Voldemort in the year of his defeat?
Pairing: Several are mentioned in passing, but only one gets any significant screen time. And it really should be a spoiler. So, therefore: Severus/Bellatrix.
Wordcount: ~170,000 overall. About 5,000 for this chapter.
Chapter Rating: R, for swearing and violence.
Chapter Summary: Ten years on, things are different for Bella. For one thing, she has a son.
A/N: The impatient and/or curious may boggle at the older version of this chapter at FF.net, which isn’t very different from this one. Note from the future: talk about eating your words- this chapter is a lot different from its old version. In a good way.
Chapter 1: An Odd Afternoon
“Help! Help me-”
Antares winced, freezing in the act of slipping into the shadows near Borgin and Burkes. Sometimes, he thought disgustedly, my luck is really horrible-
“Hel-urk!”
Antares reluctantly took his eyes off the dusty little book Burke had just conveniently placed in an easily reached corner of the nearest display window. He peered up the street, hoping that whatever struggle was going on might resolve itself and let him get on. Only the people close to the action were paying much attention to it, unfortunately. Burke was actually peering out of his shop window in the opposite direction of the commotion- right in Antares’ direction.
Fuck, Antares thought, but his body was already acting for him, carrying him boldly out of the shadows and into the street, as if Burke and his annoyingly spot-on paranoia didn’t exist. Yes, he’d been seen- Burke’s eyes felt like needles in Antares’ side. Antares forced himself on, knowing that his desire to turn and give the old idiot a piece of his mind would do him no good. Explaining that he was just bored and itching for something new to look at would do even less good- boredom on Knockturn as a kid meant you stole or you beat someone up, or chased someone until they cried.
Which was why Antares had avoided the beggars on instinct when he’d slunk into Knockturn today. Not that he had to now- one of them was wrestling with some hapless kid right now, a richly robed, skinny, tearful kid. Tastier bait than Antares had ever been for a bored, mean beggar.
Scratch that, Antares thought, getting closer to the struggle. Big bastard’s got boots on, he’s no beggar. Antares ducked round a pair of arguing hags, now mildly interested in watching the fight; he’d never seen that man before. He was an unlucky size- for the boy he had by the throat, anyway- and had the sort of angry, scowling face you’d make yourself remember, and-
“Help!” The rich boy had fought his way out of the man’s grip, and was trying to make a run for it. No such luck; he ran into other beggars, and they held onto him while the man swaggered back up.
“Steal from me, will you?” the man growled, leaning in. Antares rolled his eyes- as if some rich drip could be that daft and that fast. Daft was easy, the steady stream of soft little kids that thought they’d be cool and go down the alley on their own showed that. Fast? Antares often marvelled at how fast the softies shot out of Knockturn when they tangled with the wrong hag or were shook down for pocket money. But daft and fast…
“Skin ‘is face, Ming!” one of the beggars urged, and Ming did just that. The rich boy groaned as he was hit in the face, and barely avoided a second swing of Ming’s fist. The beggars cheered anyway, and Antares suddenly realised that this could be the Ming, the one they all talked of, insulted, deferred to. Ming and the rich boy dropped out of sight then, prompting cursing and fearfully excited encouragement from the beggars, and Antares found himself pressing closer and trying to get a better view.
He soon had all the view he liked. The fight was heading sharply towards one of the empty little shops near Borgin’s, and the beggars headed after it, ignoring Antares when he carefully pushed through. Ming had just shoved the boy into the dingy glass of the shop; grinning, he dragged him up and shoved him into it again, laughing as he sank down.
“Like a house elf, he is,” Ming said. “Squealing for help.” The beggars hooted as he caught the boy up by the neck of his robes and hit him again. “Merlin’s balls, the feel of this stuff,” Ming said, flicking at the boy’s robes. “Like breeches!” He yanked the boy away from the wall and kicked him as he went down. “Like that, breech boy?”
Breech boy was coughing, scrabbling on the dank stone. Antares eyed the boy as he rolled over, still coughing. There was blood on his face, and he was stupidly putting his filthy hand to it-
Ming kicked him again, and Antares heard himself call out, despite himself, “That’s enough, isn’t it?” But the beggars were drowning him out, surging forward to see the blood now spattering the boy’s robes. Antares jabbed his way through, trying to make himself heard, and suddenly he was through, spat out by the crush, right between Ming and the other boy. “That’s enough, isn’t it?” Ming was already surging forward, trying to shove him aside. Antares resisted. “Take his robes; they’re worth more than whatever he did-”
Ming elbowed him in the side, and batted at him when he refused to take the hint. Antares wasn’t quick enough, and the world was still wobbling oddly around him when he tripped Ming, dodging his grasping hands as he went down. Breech boy was moving weakly nearby, and responded wildly to being dragged up again by the neck of his robes, hitting Antares in the face. By now, the beggars were cheering him, and Ming was halfway up. The look on his face had Antares bullying the other boy after him as soon as he got to his feet, dragging him along when he wouldn’t budge.
Easier said than done, though; the boy’s soft robes kept slipping out of Antares’ grip, and he was still sobbing in great gasps, still fighting even though no one was stopping them. Antares looked back instinctively and blanched- no one was stopping Ming either- and therefore slapped the boy harder than he meant to, to try and calm him down. It froze him for a moment, enabling Antares to hustle them both into Borgin’s somehow and slam the door behind them.
Ming shouted something through the door, banging at it as Antares deftly jammed the threadbare welcome mat into the space under the door, hissing a feeble stay-put charm as he did so. The door rattled and bulged, but held, and since Breech boy was staring at him now, grateful and confused, Antares turned and searched out the book he’d wanted, and was ogling it in his hands a moment later.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing in my shop?”
Breech boy started and shrunk towards the door, but not very much; as menacing as Burke could be, he looked a far safer bet than Ming. He was trying to be menacing, coming up behind them like that, but it didn’t make any difference to the boy, who stretched an unsteady hand towards him. “Please don’t throw us out-”
But Burke wasn’t paying any attention to him. His sharp little gaze already occupied with peeling Antares and everything around him instead. Antares tried not to shrink back, all too aware of how bad it would look to do that and then produce the book from the pocket he’d instinctively stuck it into. And Burke wasn’t going away, or even paying any attention to the hammering on his oddly blocked front door- no, his eyes were scanning the shelves nearest to them, checking the shop window-
Antares dove for the welcome mat, cursing himself. Burke’s cry of outrage was soon drowned out by Ming’s roar of triumph as he lurched into the shop, narrowly missing Antares and Breech boy, who dodged out of the shop on Antares’ heels without any extra prompting.
The beggars cheered them all the way out to where Knockturn met Diagon, and in spite of everything, Antares’ heart rose. Breech boy was gasping and coughing again by the time they burst out in front of Gringotts, and even Antares had begun to slow down. Ming wasn’t after them now- probably held up by whatever damage he’d caused in Borgin and Burkes, crashing in like that. And out in the light of Diagon, Breech boy didn’t look half as bad as Antares had thought. Bloody, yes, and dazed, but he’d stopped looking so wild, and was only sniffing a bit, and staring at Antares.
“You took something,” the boy got out, looking impressed. “Didn’t you? I almost didn’t see it-”
“I didn’t take a thing,” Antares said, giving him a hard look. “And you’re fucking welcome.”
“Er,” Breech boy said, disbelief on his face, of all things. “I took something too, it’s not like-”
“What?” Antares grabbed hold of the boy’s sleeve, yanking him close. “Give it, stupid! I’ll already catch fuck from them for standing up for a rich twat like you-”
“Perseus Antares Black!” Antares, startled, nearly let the boy go. Then a firm, familiar hand had seized him by the shoulder and was prising them apart, and he was looking up into Bella’s angry face. “Ten minutes I take my eye off you, and look what you do.” She turned him to and fro with one hand, eyeing him up and down, and to Antares’ dismay, soon spotted the bulge in his pocket. “How many times must I tell you? Where,” she said, digging out the book from his pocket, “is this from?”
“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Breech boy said bravely. He wasn’t shaking in Bella’s grip, but didn’t look very happy to be caught up by the shoulder by her. No one ever wanted to be this close to Antares’ mother when she was angry. And, now really looking at the other boy, she was angry, and though Antares knew Breech boy’s bloody face wasn’t his fault, he shrank anyway when Bella’s gaze turned on him.
“Tell me you didn’t do this,” she said, tone low.
“I didn’t, mum, I swear-”
“It was some beggar,” Breech boy was saying shakily. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone in-”
“I see,” Bella said, her tone hard. Breech boy shook his head uselessly, not seeming to realise she wasn’t talking to him. Her anger had gone now, replaced by a wry, oddly relieved look that Bella was giving Antares despite the obviously stolen book she had in hand. She let him go then, handing the book back to him after a pause. “You’ll take it back this instant, you hear me?”
“But Mum-”
“Now, Antares,” Bella said, “unless you’d like me to go with you.” Antares, defeated, turned and started off, only to run into someone tall and expensive-smelling. It was a panicked-looking wizard that pushed him roughly aside, making for Bella. Antares saw her quickly reach for her wand, and just as quickly halt the gesture as Breech boy was gathered into what looked to be the arms of his very worried, very angry father.
“Where have you been, Blaise?” the man cried. “You said you’d meet me at Eeylops, you little- is that blood?” Breech boy- or, rather, Blaise, was now being checked over with a spell that looked to be much the same one Bella might have used, and making faces at the treatment.
“He was in Knockturn Alley,” Bella said coolly, finally drawing Blaise’s father’s attention. He paled, and glared down at Blaise, but the look on his face was nothing to the hard one Bella was giving Antares now. “My son brought him out just a moment ago. Didn’t you, Antares?”
Antares fumed inwardly as Blaise’s rich father looked him over and said something about being grateful that the narrow look on his face did not support. Antares tried not to bristle- he knew he looked the part of a bully, if an unusually short, skinny one, but that was no reason for Blaise not to say a thing about the fact that he wasn’t. “He took something from the beggars, sir,” he said out of spite, remembering what Blaise had said. If the little idiot had been lying then, he’d be sorry for it now. “They’d have left him alone if he hadn’t.”
It did the trick; Blaise’s father was looking down at him in disgust as he sullenly produced a grubby bag Antares immediately recognised. “What is this, Blaise?” the man asked, weighing it in his hand. When Blaise shook his head, his father rolled his eyes, turning back towards Antares. “You say he took this from a beggar?”
Bella gave Antares a pointed look. “I know the one,” he said hastily. “I’ll take that back, if you please. Sir.” Blaise’s father waved it over to him, his attention already back on his son, and Antares, impatient, tugged the slow-moving bag into his hand. Thankfully, Bella didn’t notice, or there would have been another glare for him- she was holding forth, now, on how very awful it could have gone for Blaise if Antares hadn’t been there.
“Protection charms,” or, as Antares knew them, amulets, “are very important to people there.” The way Bella was speaking now was strange- sort of drawn out and deliberate, matching the way she held herself before Blaise’s father, proud as ever. “Daily life on Knockturn is uneasy and unsafe at best.” Which was why even the beggars, who needed every knut that rolled their way, made sure to spend on a well-made amulet much like the one Antares now had in his other pocket.
“So, Blaise,” his father said, glaring down at him, “what did you say your reason for this stupidity was again?”
Blaise’s hands dug deep in the pockets of his robes, and there was a scowl on his face. None of it did anything to disguise the shake in his low tone. “There weren’t any beggars on Diagon Alley.” He fidgeted for a moment, avoiding his father’s eyes. “It was- it was sort of a dare, finding one.”
“Ah,” his father said, angrily. “So there was a dare.” He laughed sourly. “Draco strikes again.”
Blaise looked down. “He said it wouldn’t be that hard to take something from one.”
Antares stared at him. “Bit of advice,” he found himself saying. “Next time some snotface tells you to take something from a beggar, say no.”
Far from taking offence, Blaise’s father nodded sharply. “Exactly,” he said, giving his son a hard look. “Now, miss…”
“Black,” Bella said, leaning closer. The man gave her a swift, startled look, then shook his head slightly, beginning to pat himself for something. Antares hid a smile, hoping he did not look too much like he was hanging around on purpose. He couldn’t help but linger by Blaise’s father as he fished out his well-sealed, handsome purse, if only out of habit. It annoyed him sometimes now, the way he found himself slowing as he passed someone rooting around in their pockets; as Bella kept telling him, they didn’t need to steal now. She certainly no longer looked like someone that needed to steal, not in her tidy, drab working robes.
And, as Blaise’s father already seemed to have realised, she certainly didn’t look like someone who might take offence at being offered money. Some sort of Black, Antares could almost hear him thinking, but not one of the Blacks. “Yes, yes,” he now said, whisking a small money bag out of the air. “I simply must show my gratitude for your help-”
Take it, Antares prayed, knowing how much his mother’s unseen heritage still lingered in her. But he didn’t need to- Bella’s hand was out, and her posture appropriate, and what looked and sounded like twenty-five- no, thirty, thirty Galleons was being spilled into that little bag. Perhaps it was that the man had so obviously not seen through his mother’s well-worn glamour, so well made of real and exaggerated want. Perhaps it was because she could see Antares pretending not to hang around.
Antares, watching his mother close the bag, snorted to himself. He could perhaps all he liked; there were just some days Bella would take charity, and some days she wouldn’t. Today, thankfully, was one of the days an improbably grateful smile graced her face, half-dropping off only when Blaise and his father were well away, replaced completely by relief when she put the bag very carefully away.
“I’m not going to follow you in, Antares,” Bella said, startling him a little. “Go on, for god’s sake, and be out quickly.” She looked wistfully over at Gringotts, then to the right of it, at Madam Malkin’s. “Meet me outside Malkin’s.”
Antares tried not to grin. “Wage day, isn’t it?”
Bella didn’t quite smile, and said nothing as she turned, heading for Malkin’s. The wry look on her face said what he already knew- that it didn’t matter, not today. This wage day, Malkin could flitter and flutter and forget if she liked. The rent would be fine for the rest of the month, and maybe a little more.
Antares, finally heading back into Knockturn, felt six feet tall.
Antares wasn’t walking quite so tall when he emerged before Gringotts again. His jaw hurt, but he refused to clutch at it like that Blaise boy had been doing by the end. He wondered why on earth he’d felt so confident that it wouldn’t be hard to return the stolen book- he’d never see it now, not after the way Burke had been shouting- or the amulet. Ming had got him square in the face when he’d gone to give it back. Not hard, because he’d likely had a think on how much he needed the stupid thing back, but hard enough.
Mum’ll show him, Antares thought, blinking away at the sting in his eye. Next time, he’d bloody well make her come with him- no one would dare hit him in the face and call him names then.
The sun was now out in full force, as were the people. There was the usual crowd near the mouth of Knockturn, where sticky-fingered people sucking on Fortescue’s Famous Fire ices mingled with impatient-looking folk trying to push through to Gringotts and beyond. Antares paused outside Fortescue’s despite himself, sighing at some of the smells already around him, then plunged back into the thickening crowd, now determinedly making his way to Malkin’s.
It didn’t go well- in minutes, he’d been dripped on, stepped on, and soon- “Watch it!”- almost knocked down. Antares cursed and kicked out, hoping to catch the idiot who’d done it. Someone yelped and dropped more things on him, packages that rolled down Antares and got underfoot. Antares, now truly annoyed, caught at the person’s robe, hoping to find a pocket to strip.
He didn’t expect to be caught in return, or whirled around, forcibly bumping into more people. “You little rat!” The crowd around them gave way, and soon began to move past them, giving Antares and the wizard that had caught him a wide berth. Antares, half-frozen in shock, hadn’t a chance at avoiding the blow that followed. Struggling for breath, he fought the grip the wizard had on him- the slight buzz of magic he could feel around them meant nothing good, and Bella would be furious if she didn’t find him outside Malkin’s waiting for her on time-
And suddenly, he’d been dropped to the ground. Antares was on his feet in seconds, but the wizard got hold of him again, and was easily avoiding the frantic flailing of Antares’ arms as the mostly ruined packages began to assemble into a rough pile. The glimpses Antares caught of the man holding him only made him more desperate to get away- dark, lanky hair, hooked nose, sallow skin and hard black eyes, the very picture of what he’d always imagined a Death Eater might look like. Antares, now beginning to shake, tried to remember the one he and Bella had come across in a pub, years ago.
Is this him? Antares thought wildly. What a fucking day, please let it not be him-
The packages began to put themselves in a sack that had appeared at the command of the wizard, whose fingers were now digging into his shoulder so hard that Antares couldn’t keep still, and suddenly there was only the stained cobblestones beneath their feet to signify that anything had happened. And, of course, the persistent space in the crowd around them, and the searching stare of the wizard, burning into Antares’ forehead. He dared not look up.
“What’s your name?” the man now asked, waving a long bit of string into existence around the neck of the sack. When Antares, still panting from his struggle, said nothing, the man sighed in disgust. “Boy,” he said, putting the disconcertingly cool end of his wand at Antares’ neck, “speak.”
“Take your hands off my son,” a very welcome voice said, from behind Antares. And Bella was there, knocking away the wand from his neck, picking discouragingly at the man’s smelly hand on Antares’ shoulder, giving him a long, venomous look-
Freezing.
The annoyance on the man’s face was rapidly disappearing, its place taken by what looked something like shock. Antares couldn’t breathe- the man was a Death Eater, had to be, with the way Bella had gone pale-
“Bella,” the man said, his tone curiously empty. “What- what a surprise.”
Bella’s body suddenly blocked Antares’ view of the man. “Let him go.”
“He can’t be your son,” Antares heard the man say, in a tone that sounded more confused than threatening. “I can- he’s a wizard, I can feel it-”
“Did I betray you, Severus?” Bella’s voice was low and desperate, almost a whisper. “Did I?”
“No-”
“Then let him go!”
Severus did, causing Antares to gasp in relief. But Bella hadn’t moved, and when Antares edged round her, anxious to see why, his heart sank to his stomach. Severus’ hand had closed about his mother’s wrist in a grip that looked so light Antares thought a sudden move on either of their parts could break it, but they both stood so still, and the way they stared at each other-
Severus nodded, almost- almost encouragingly, and let go. Bella stepped back and took firm hold of Antares, pulling him close to her, but she certainly wasn’t backing away any further, not the way Antares thought they should be. He didn’t care how carefully this Severus was looking at them now, or how deliberately he was lightening his bag of supplies, as if he thought a sudden movement would make them apparate away. Antares glared up at his mother, confused and frightened. Why weren’t they apparating away?
And he would have asked, not caring if Severus could hear, if Bella hadn’t given him a warning look, drawn him even closer, and done just that.
They landed hard, in no place Antares had ever seen before. Or, he thought, staring at the empty, wretched room around them, no place he wanted to see again. “Mum-”
“I’m fine,” Bella said, bending and hugging him so swiftly Antares’ knees buckled. “We’re fine.”
“Shouldn’t we be gone already?” Antares asked feebly, despite the churning in his stomach that told him he’d be sick if they did. “I mean, he could track us-”
“Yes,” Bella said, easing back from him, a worried look on her face. “That’s- he’ll be here in any moment, now-”
“Then let’s go!”
“No,” Bella said, straightening.
Antares stared at her, aghast. “Mum!”
“We can trust him,” she said, slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. “He saved my life.”
“What?” Antares stared at her. “But- but Maggie-”
“She did too,” Bella said, now looking around the room. “But that was after him.” The emptiness, the awful smell of the room- it didn’t seem to bother her.
“I don’t understand!” Antares squeezed the hand that still held his, hard, hoping he could bring his mother back to her senses. “Why can’t we just go?”
“I owe the man a life debt, or very close,” Bella said, slowly. “All he wants to do is speak to me.”
“And how the fuck do you know that?” Antares demanded. “He never said a thing! All he did was throw me around and stare at us!” There was a creak behind him, one that Antares tried to ignore, hoping to get through to his mother. “Mum, please-”
Someone cleared their throat sharply behind Antares, making him nearly jump out of his skin. Dread dragged at him as he spun round; he didn’t feel surprised to see Severus standing there, closing a door Antares hadn’t noticed when they’d got there, his sallow face trying and failing to look apologetic. Antares backed away from him, breathing hard, and didn’t stop until he felt Bella’s hand on his shoulder, and could hear her oddly calm breathing.
“I apologise,” Severus said, after an awkward moment. “I thought you were trying to rob me.” Antares shifted uncomfortably under the man’s cool, assessing stare, only half believing Severus was really talking to him. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”
Bella cleared her throat as well, shifting behind Antares. “You probably weren’t too far from the truth.” When Antares glared up at her, she gave him a weak smile- or, rather, gave Severus a weak smile. “You said you wanted to speak to me.”
“Yes,” Severus said, but nothing else followed it. If Antares looked hard at him- which he didn’t particularly want to- he’d have sworn that the man was at a loss for words.
Bella sighed. “If that’s it-”
“It isn’t,” Severus insisted. “I-” he looked around, and Antares could say with uncomfortable certainty that that look probably meant distaste. “This isn’t a good place for a child.”
“Which is why I thought you would be quick,” Bella said, her tone becoming impatient. “Not like we have much to say to each other, is it?”
Severus gave her a long look. “You think so?” His voice, now very quiet, still seemed to fill the room. “I shouldn’t have left you there, just like that.”
Bella snorted. “Well, I was fine. Excellent, even.” She tugged gently at the hair at Antares’ neck, a move that usually meant she would kiss his forehead and be embarrassing, but this time, all she did was sigh. “Look, we’d better-”
“You wouldn’t be living in Knockturn,” Severus said, not seeming to hear her. “Not with him.”
Bella stiffened a little at that, then relaxed slowly. Forcibly. “Severus, you needn’t feel obligated-”
“Where, then?” Severus’ gaze was mocking, now. It made Antares bristle- not that the man noticed. “I have a house, you know.”
“Good for you,” was Bella’s sarcastic answer. “Now if you’ll excuse us-”
“I’ll share it with you both, for now,” Severus said decisively. “Albus should be able to sort something out after about a week-”
“Albus…?”
Severus gave her a look that Antares could only describe as challenging. “Dumbledore.”
Bella looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “You landed on your feet, I see.”
Severus nodded, adding nothing. He just stood there, waiting patiently for Bella’s reply as if he had all the time in the world.
Antares, now feeling thoroughly shut out of the conversation, was therefore surprised to feel Bella’s hand on his head, to feel her turning slightly behind him. His eyes met hers after a moment of confusion. “Um,” Antares said, acutely conscious of Severus’ eyes on him now. “Where do you know him from?” he tried, as quietly as he could, but Severus obviously picked it up. His short, bitter laugh was followed by a rather ghastly smile- one that Bella returned, making Antares’ heart sink some more within him.
“Forget I said that,” he mumbled. “Forget I said anything.”
But Bella’s hand was stroking his neck, familiar as always. “It was a good question,” she said, quietly. “I’m-” she sighed. “I’m simply the wrong sort of person to ask.”
Antares shivered and looked down, trying to keep his fear from being too obvious. He knew, now, where she’d likely met this man. This- this Death Eater, or former Death Eater, or whatever he was- “Fine,” Antares said, in a strangled tone. “I’ll come.”
He looked up then, more to see Bella’s reaction. He wished he hadn’t, because Severus had come closer without him realising, and there was a sort of smile on his face again. It fit. It shouldn’t have, not on that face. Not with those dark, menacing robes, or those strong hands, or whatever ugly past the man shared with Antares’ mother.
Antares closed his eyes as he saw Severus come closer still, trying hard to shut out the odd smell that came with him. Thankfully, only Bella’s hands were on him- apparation at the hands of this Severus would definitely make him sick.
“Tell your son to calm down,” Severus said, dryly. “Else, he’ll be sick.”
Antares screwed his eyes up harder, trying to squeeze down the panic inside his heart. This was what happened when you were silly and afraid, he told himself. You started thinking everyone knew what you thought, or could see it on your face, and look where that left you.
“Antares?” Bella shifted closer to him, her familiar scent blocking out Severus’ own entirely. “Everything will be fine.”
Antares fought the urge to roll his eyes, since it meant he’d probably open them. She always said things like that when he was upset, even when they both knew things would not be fine.
But sometimes, Antares let himself think Bella was right. After all, despite everything that had happened today up to and including Severus’ horribly inconvenient appearance in their lives, they were still alive. Still together.
Maybe, Antares couldn’t help thinking, as he felt the beginning of the wrench of apparation, maybe we will be fine.
A/N: Trivia I wish to throw in your direction: Antares means rival of Mars, and is the first star in the constellation of Scorpius. And Perseus means saviour of Andromeda. So now you know where I got my rather silly names from. :). PS: Will start crosslinking chapters once I can get some damned sleep.