Aspen in the Sunlight - A Year Like None Other

"So, Lupin. One must hope his dangerous masquerade will at least yield something in the way of useful information. And so?"

Serious again, Dumbledore leaned forward. "All indications point to a quiet summer, even on the Continent. In fact, Remus has communicated the most interesting tidbit to me. It seems that Voldemort intends to subject himself to Muggle medicine."

For a moment, Severus merely stared. "Muggle Medicine!" Then the truth dawned on him. "Ah. Bone marrow. Interesting."

The headmaster shrugged. "From what Remus has been able to gather, it doesn't sit well with Voldemort that Harry produced that blast on Samhain. He does realise it was Harry's doing, now, quite likely based on the way Harry ejected him from his mind that once. He must suspect that something's happened to transform Harry's magic."

"And thanks to that horrible uncle of Harry's, he knows all about the extraction." Severus shook his head. "I did think that Voldemort might put two and two together eventually, but given that he knows Harry was without his magic for an extended time . . . I find it hard to imagine him taking a risk like that."

"Yes, well, he's never been known for sane thinking, really," murmured Dumbledore. "By the way, Remus asked me to tell you that his mark shows no sign of diminishing in power or appearance, let alone spilling magic."

Severus thought of the vat he'd drawn it from, all those extra marks he kept growing and slicing off his arm. "Well, if he begins to think it's losing potency, I certainly have more I can part with. And as for spilling magic, once it was merged into his skin--that was a rather tricky bit of magic--" Dumbledore acknowledged the unspoken thanks with a mere smile. "The mark seemed to stabilise well enough." Severus' own smile was grim. "Imagine it. We could arrange for several more false Death Eaters, should we wish. I've quite a few marks stored away by now."

"Ah, but that would be terribly wrong. Not everyone is as strong in the Light as Remus Lupin. The temptations alone . . ."

Severus quietly snorted. "You want me to laud Lupin, now? You're as bad as Harry."

"Severus, he was just a boy when he nearly attacked you, and that wasn't his fault in any case. Not one bit of it. Isn't it time to let that go?" Dumbledore gentled his voice still further. "And he has been an asset to us, all along, doing his part. You know that, now."

Time to stop letting old wounds fester . . . One more, at least. Severus did his best to make his shrug seem unconcerned. "Very well. I suppose that Lucinda will work much better with me if I seem less antagonistic toward her kin."

"Seem?"

At that, Severus glowered. "Don't push it, old man."

Dumbledore laughed. "You always did have a delightful sense of humour, Severus. But actually, I thought that thinking through the ramifications of Remus' present mission might assist you to write the curriculum for your new course. How is that coming along?"

"It isn't," said Severus, his tone blunt. "But I will get to it in the summer. You know my views. It's high time we offered such a course to the seventh-years."

"You just want to have your sons in class twice as often."

Severus' voice was droll. "Yes, and Longbottom as well."

Dumbledore beamed. "Ah. Well, there is that. It's good of you to take it on, in that case. But Severus, don't spend too much of your holiday writing summaries of the Slytherins or preparing your for your new class. Find some time to spend with your boys. I think you'll find . . . they just grow up so fast."

The Potions Master nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, I have plans in that regard. With Voldemort likely to remain relatively inactive while he heals . . . I suppose that all sorts well. I'd have hated to keep the boys hidden away for their entire break. Though, I still think it wise to avoid exposure in any wizarding communities. I do believe that we shall make some excursions into Muggle Plymouth, as that area is virtually devoid of magical interaction."

"Exeter would be even safer, or perhaps one of the smaller towns."

"True, but Harry has commented more than once that he'd appreciate some outings to the seaside. He'd like to learn to swim properly--"

The headmaster scoffed. "The Second Task, Severus. Harry hardly needs swimming lessons."

"Actually, he does. He speculates the Gillyweed helped him avoid drowning on that occasion, Albus. He's never had a swimming lesson in his life." Severus' voice grew scathing. "His relatives were hardly going to part with money to provide such a thing. Not for him."

Albus slowly blinked. "I see. A pity. A terrible pity. I wish I could have done things differently, Severus. I had only the best intentions."

Severus knew that. Nodding, he brusquely continued, "At any rate, Harry has dropped several enthusiastic hints about the attractions in Plymouth. The beaches are likely the least of them. I think we'd all find some enjoyment there, though I'll no doubt have to brew a rather strong sunscreen potion for Draco."

The headmaster smiled, very slightly. "Speaking of enjoyment, I've saved the best for last. We'll finish our tea with a very special treat."

Severus rolled his eyes, but smiled behind his napkin. "Albus, you know I've no taste for your impossibly sweet confections. Most of them are hideous."

Dumbledore cleared the table and materialized the dessert with a flourish. "Ah, but this isn't my confection. Draco and Hermione deserve all the credit. I must say, that those two make quite the team."

Severus absently wondered if that was Albus' own attempt at matchmaking. No doubt, it would do Draco good to find someone who could help him forget the trauma of loving and losing Pansy this year, not to mention the heartbreak of knowing the girl had never really loved him at all. Still, the idea that Miss Granger could be the one . . . that was laughable at best. She was stuck like glue to the Weasley boy. And for all Draco's growth away from strictly pureblood ideals, he was hardly a liberal thinker in that area. Severus frankly couldn't imagine Draco falling in with a Muggleborn witch.

Dismissing that matter, Severus looked down at the small bowl before him. The presentation was clever - a hollowed peel of a lime had been partially transfigured into the form of a gelato dish. When Severus lifted the spoon up, he found that that bottom half of the utensil was fashioned from a smooth, hard piece of a lemon sherbet.

Severus' eyebrows quirked. "How very Slytherin of Draco, incorporating his professor's favourite candy into his . . . Potions project." By the end, Severus' voice had gone just a trifle dark.

Dumbledore appeared not to notice that. "Well, we're all a mix of houses, you know. So it shouldn't shock you too much that the spoon was Miss Granger's idea. And what a lovely idea it was. The gelato is delightfully tart at first bite, but with that spoon to counter it . . ." Smiling in appreciation, the headmaster picked up his own bowl of dessert.

The Potions Master tasted a spoonful and nodded thoughtfully. It was quite good. He thought to himself that it might be amusing to ask Draco to prepare a dessert now and again. "Speaking of Draco, I did want to thank you for awarding him those points at the Leaving Feast. Not just on behalf of Slytherin, either. I do believe that rewarding him thusly will encourage him to continue to follow the new path he's forged this year."

Dumbledore looked a little abashed. But then again, it wasn't every day that words of thanks emerged from Severus' mouth. "I know that I was sceptical at first, Severus, but I've come to expect great things from Draco. He has much to offer and he appears to be fiercely loyal."

Severus couldn't help but sigh softly. He'd hoped the headmaster would come to see both his sons as more than just assets to the war.