It had seemed like a better idea when they were at the castle, discussing hunting werewolves for revenge. Now that they’d arrived at Black Manor, Lucius was having second thoughts. It was obscenely dark, the stiff wind made it difficult to hear anything except the wind whistling through the trees, and dammit, they were searching for werewolves! Normal, intelligent people avoided werewolves like the plague. In fact, Bellatrix seemed to be the only one who wasn’t having second thoughts. Then again, few would accuse Bella of being normal. She hadn’t even gone in to see the family yet; they’d Apparated far enough away that anyone watching for them wouldn’t see. So, here they were, trotting blithely around through the woods, wands at ready, hoping to kill the beasts before being mauled into cat food themselves.

The forest blocked most of the light of the moon, effectively obstructing their vision, impeding their ability to detect the lanky creatures stalking them on each side, matching their steps. The largest of them, a ferocious character with gray fur, led the pack of six. Known to his followers as Greyback, he raced ahead, sure-footedly dodging fallen branches as he maneuvered into position; he barked a guttural yip that the others appeared to understand. They closed in, surrounding the group of wizards.

As one, the werewolves attacked, teeth bared, eyes glowing. A Shield Charm thrown up by Bellatrix repelled them momentarily, long enough for the rest to comprehend that they had been ambushed by their prey. Back to back in a loose circle, the wizards and witch began hurling curses.

Werewolf 6 fell under Lucius’ Stupefy, an automatic response in a duel, before he remembered that a Stun here meant very little. The creature leapt up so quickly he hardly saw it before it had him by the throat, flinging him high over its shoulder. He struck a tree limb spine-first, crying out as he felt the bones crunch, and dropped to the ground.

Bella cast a Platare at Greyback that missed and hit number 2, who collapsed. Greyback ducked with amazing fleetness to charge at her repeatedly, kept at bay only by her own startling speed of throwing hexes. The two seemed engaged in an odd, deadly dance.

Number 5 took the opportunity to assail Rabastan, who clipped it with the spell Voldemort had taught them. The resulting wound apparently injured it greatly, yet it managed to lunge forward regardless, landing on top of him. A sharp ‘snap’ rang through the air.

Distracted and disturbed by the frightening alacrity of the beasts, Rodolphus fired wildly at everything in sight, hitting werewolf 3 with a Killing Curse, then cursing himself for forgetting it wouldn’t work. Werewolves 3 and 4 pounced on him and began to drag him off.

Lucius staggered to his knees as number 6 came at him, fangs ready to bite. He screamed the Silver Spell; the jet slammed the creature in the chest and it crumpled to the earth, unmoving. Panting in pain and suppressed fear, he crawled toward Rodolphus, who was thrashing violently and kicking at number 4, who had him by the leg. Number 3 bent over his throat.

A Platare finally landed Greyback, who fell a short distance away. An eerie shriek from Rabastan made Bella spin to see number 5 straddling his chest, going for the kill. Her werewolf-killing curse wounded the already injured animal, knocking it off of Rabastan.

Shooting spells as fast as he could, Lucius Stunned number 3. It let go of Rodolphus and fell to the side, leaving the latter a clean shot at number 4, which died the instant the Silver Spell came crashing into its heart. Number 3, sensing personal danger, uttered a horrific growl and dashed off into the woods.

“It broke my wand!” Rabastan wailed, rising and backing from dazed creature number 5, feeling utterly helpless.

Bellatrix cast another Silver Spell, this one hitting the intended target, and number 5 flew backward, struck the ground, and moved no more. She whirled to find Greyback approaching with number 2. Even for one as skilled in dueling as she, fighting two incredibly swift werewolves was a test of wills as well as skill. Her curses flew so fast one might debate whether there’d been a break between them, yet few connected due to the agility of the hideous foes.

With Rabastan come to the aid of his brother, Lucius looked over at Bellatrix. He tried to get up and could not. “Rabastan, take his wand and go help Bella!”

Rabastan did as he was ordered, racing back to hurl curses at Greyback and number 2, the only remaining werewolves. One Silver Spell grazed Greyback across the cheek and he howled in rage as he fell again, though the hit had been too slight to cause real damage. He turned and bounded into the woods, leaving number 2 to Bella’s wrath. A well aimed hex knocked it to the ground; she strode over, aimed for the heart, and hissed the werewolf-killing curse.

Aside from muffled moans from Rodolphus and Lucius, the only other sound was the wind in the trees. Bella and Rabastan joined them, took hold, and Apparated back to Black Manor, where they utilized levitation to haul the two into the house. They were met at the door by Narcissa, Abraxas, and Druella, all of whom stared at them in dismay.

“Lucius?” Narcissa knelt beside him, clutching him around the back to support him. He let out a sharp, involuntary cry.

Abraxas got down beside the wounded men, noting Rodolphus’ bleeding throat and legs, as well as his son’s discomfort. “You went hunting werewolves, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Lucius croaked. “I think one broke my back.”

“Lie down. Narcissa, help him.” Abraxas turned to Rodolphus, afraid to ask. “Did they…they didn’t bite you, did they?” Everyone understood what an answer of ‘yes’ meant: a swift death at the hand of one of those present.

“No,” Rodolphus groaned. “I don’t think so. They clawed me up.”

Druella had already performed a spell to stop the bleeding. She gaped at the extent of damage around one ankle, so severe it almost seemed his foot would fall right off. Bellatrix Scourgified the areas to examine for herself whether the animals had indeed bitten him or not. She unceremoniously ripped off his pantlegs to the knee, carefully studied his legs, then moved on to his neck.

Satisfied that she wouldn’t have to kill her husband, she pronounced, “He’s only gored—no bite marks.”

Abraxas nodded. That was definitely good news. “Lucius, what happened to you?”

“It threw me; I hit a tree,” he said, biting his lip against the throbbing pain.

His father manipulated Lucius’ back with his fingers, eliciting sharp gasps, then he waved his wand over the area while muttering incantations. Finally he said, “If you ever pull a stunt like this again, I’ll break your back myself! You only have a couple of chipped vertebrae. When we get home I’ll use some potions to fix it up, but for now this will do.”

“Thank you, Father.” He closed his eyes and lay back, feeling Narcissa’s hands on his chest and forehead, the agony reduced to a mere tingle. “We killed four of them, honey. They won’t be murdering anybody else.”

“Good,” she said quietly, as if in a dream. How close had they come to murdering her husband? Her sister? “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

By now Abraxas had turned his attention to Rodolphus, aghast that no one had seen fit to mention he was poised to lose a foot. He healed the deep gashes in the neck and near the throat, then sighed as he pondered what do to. This was going to be another long night.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

“I gotta go now, Reg. I’ll see you.” Evan Rosier got up from the outside café table he’d been sharing with Regulus in Vertik Alley.

“Tell the family I said hello,” responded Regulus, tipping up his glass to empty it; as he looked past the newest Death Eater, the drink soured in his throat and he came up choking and spitting.

“You okay?” laughed the other.

Regulus nodded and waved him off. The other young man gave a curt wave and Disapparated, leaving Black with a clear view of a table two restaurants over, where his brother sat like a king, feet propped on a chair beside him, chatting with James Potter.

For the life of him he couldn’t explain how he felt at that moment. He’d not seen Sirius since the attack on the Potter home last Halloween. It was drawing near to the end of June, making it eight months ago, and it hadn’t exactly been an auspicious meeting for either of them. Before that had been another five months, although at that time they’d parted on acceptable terms. While loath to admit it, he missed his brother.

Without allowing his brain to direct his steps, he got up and wandered down to the crowded restaurant. Only a fanatical Death Eater like Bellatrix might dare attack the hated Potter under such conditions, and truth be told Regulus had no interest in doing so. Only if the Master ordered it would he attack anyone to kill, and only out of self preservation.

Sirius saw him approach and nudged his friend, whispered something, and laughed. Now Regulus remembered why he rarely made an attempt to initiate peace. He glanced around for anyone he recognized who might see him talking to the blood traitor.

The older brother fixed the younger with a condescending glare. “Oh, high and mighty Black heir, you deign to come to me?” He broke down and laughed at his grim humor.

“Stuff it, Sirius.” The penetrating look he shot Sirius was understood in an instant, to be answered with a casual shake of the head. Potter didn’t know; Sirius hadn’t told him that Regulus was one of the assailants that night!

“Potter, I’m surprised to see you here. I thought Death Eaters killed you,” said Regulus dryly.

“No such luck, although I did have to sell my house and move to avoid the maniacs, but thanks for inquiring.” James flashed a fake smile.

Regulus addressed his brother. “I saw you here and thought I’d try once more to convince you to drop this bad influence and come back to the family.” He jerked his head at James at the words ‘bad influence’.

“Sorry to disappoint you again, chum,” James answered. “Sirius is my best man at my wedding next month.”

“Ah, yes, the Mudblood,” drawled Regulus. “Wouldn’t want to ruin such a sacred union.” He rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Reg, knock it off!” commanded Sirius.

“And you couldn’t even be bothered to go to Uncle Cygnus’ funeral!” Regulus snapped at him. “You used to like him!”

Toning down his own typical sarcasm, Sirius said quietly, “I was hardly welcome, now was I? And I found it much harder to like him when he started referring to me as ‘the blood traitor bastard’.”

“He still cared about you, just like he cared about Andromeda,” Regulus replied, dropping his own attitude.

“Like Mum and Dad care?” asked Sirius, raising his eyebrows defiantly.

“They do.”

It was Sirius’ turn to snort. “That last beating that drove me out of the house didn’t seem very loving, little brother.”

“You hurt them! You disgraced the family! What were they supposed to do?”

“Regulus, quit. I don’t want to talk about it. Go do your pureblood supremacy crap and leave me out of it.” He gestured to James and they rose at the same time and filed past Regulus, only to Disapparate a few paces away.

Regulus kicked the chair Sirius’ feet had been propped on, then stalked off himself. He needed to walk, to think… to forget.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

“I wanna play with her,” said Julius, jostling against Tina.

“No, I want to!” Justina answered, shoving her twin away from the expensive, ornately carved crib in the corner of the living room, one of the gifts from the Malfoy family. Julius tumbled backward, tripped, and sprawled on his rear while she reached down to pick up the baby, who cooed and smiled a toothless grin at her.

Julius glowered, not daring to tussle with her while she held Jacinta. “She likes me better,” he sulked.

Justina cradled the infant to her chest, turned around, and stuck her tongue out at her brother, then slowly made her way to the couch where their mother sat watching with an eagle eye, wand at ready just in case. With relief she took Jacinta from her daughter.

“You can both play with her, but no shouting. And stop your fighting or I won’t let either of you near her again,” stated Eileen. The baby half-sat on her lap, propped up against her belly; she took the miniature hands to clap them together as the twins took turns trying to gain the child’s attention by waving and rattling toys or making faces that sent the girl into bubbly giggles.

A short time later the door opened, and Severus came in carrying a shopping bag with formula for his daughter. “Oh, she’s awake.” Although perhaps it shouldn’t have, it surprised him how much the baby slept. Looking back, he’d swear the twins had almost never slept, and had cried endlessly. Jacinta was definitely a good baby. “Hello, little girl.”

When Jacinta heard his familiar voice, her ears perked up and her head swiveled about looking for the man, ignoring the twins. Catching sight of him, she wiggled impatiently, thrashing her tiny limbs. Severus came over and she thrust her arms out to him, grunting a demand to be held. Suppressing a smug smile, he obliged her. It felt incredibly wonderful to be so wanted, to know the infant desired his comfort. He lifted her up to eye level.

“Were you a good girl for Grandma?” he asked in a deep, soothing tone.

Jacinta responded by bracing her hands on his face, leaning in, and biting his nose. He yelped and pulled her away, cradling her in one arm and rubbing his offended appendage. Who knew a toothless bite could smart so much? His brother and sister collapsed into hysterical laughter.

“It’s not funny, dunderheads,” he growled, unable to be truly angry. It was funny, even if he wouldn’t admit it. The child was only eight weeks old and already asserting her dominance over him! Or, just possibly, she found his protruding proboscis to be an enjoyable plaything.

“Is so!” Julius retorted, grinning.

Severus motioned toward the formula he’d set on the table. “Tina, go fix a bottle. She’ll be hungry soon.” He carried the baby over to sit next to his mother.

“You look tired, son. Are you alright?”

Nodding, he tried to pry a fistful of his hair out of Jacinta’s hand. “I’ve just been thinking. I’ve only been to see the Malfoys once since Mr. Black was murdered. It’s been a month. After all they’ve done for me and given us—the crib, clothes, everything—they probably think I’m an ungrateful bastard.”

“Severus, don’t talk that way around your daughter,” admonished Eileen. “And I doubt they think that.”

He grimaced, his eyes popping, as the little girl snatched another handful of hair and yanked for all she was worth, giggling at the sport. “Mum, you want to hold her?” he asked, simultaneously depositing the child on Eileen’s lap, several long strands of black hair clutched in her fist.

“What a sweet baby you are,” cooed Eileen as she deftly plucked the hairs back out of the infant’s mouth where they’d somehow ended up.

“I’d like to take Jacinta to meet them,” Severus started. “Only I’m afraid Narcissa…and Lucius, too…might feel bad, might take it that I’m flaunting my child in their faces.”

“I don’t believe they would think any such thing, Severus. As you pointed out, look at all they’ve given you. That’s not something you do for someone you resent.”

“Maybe,” he agreed softly. “I don’t understand why the potion I gave Narcissa hasn’t worked yet, unless the damage to her organs was even worse than I thought,” he sighed. “I want so much for them to be happy.”

Eileen patted his leg while bouncing the baby on her lap. “You told me you were sure the potion would work. I trust you, and so do they.”

“What if I was wrong?”

“Severus, I’ve never known anyone to be as careful and precise in brewing or in research as you are. Stop second-guessing yourself.”

“So you think I should take Jacinta to see them?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Why don’t you send an owl and ask?”

“I can’t take her today, I’m due back at Glenna’s.” It was a pitiful excuse, he knew. They weren’t due back for over two hours, plenty of time for a short visit. He cringed at the way his mother rolled her eyes. “But I’ll send an owl later to see if they’d like to meet her next time.”

It wasn’t the visiting he dreaded, but the refusal. What if they didn’t want to see the baby, what if it was too painful for them, especially after Narcissa’s recent loss of her father? He was so proud of his beautiful, intelligent progeny that he wanted the world to know her and recognize her. But they wouldn’t, he thought bitterly. Mulciber was her daddy; Severus was… He paused; he didn’t even know what to call himself. No one outside a select few recognized him as her father. What or who was he, then? When she got old enough to speak, what would she call him?

“Son, what is it?”

He looked over at her glumly. “Mum, what is Jacinta to call me? According to the terms we worked out, I can’t tell her I’m her father. It seems odd to call me by my name, and dangerous besides if we’re in public and I’m in disguise.”

“Hmm.” His mother pursed her lips in thought. Jacinta, observing her, puckered up her own lips. “Your siblings are Uncle Julius and Aunt Tina. How about Uncle Zeb?”

“Zeb?” he repeated in horror at the nickname for his hated middle name of Zebedee.

“I realize you don’t like it, but listen. She hears you called ‘Severus’ all the time. You just said that can be hazardous. Sev and Zeb aren’t that different in pronunciation, so if she messes up, it might not be noticed.”

Severus blew out a disgusted breath. She was right; that didn’t mean he had to like it. “I guess it’ll do.” For now.

“Can I feed her, Severus?” asked Tina, walking in with the bottle. Upon spying her food source, Jacinta lurched at the bottle with a demanding cry, nearly falling off Eileen’s lap in her pursuit.

“Go ahead,” he said, watching the baby attack the formula. He smirked. When she wanted something, she went after it. She had inherited not only her mother’s lips and chin, but her temperament as well.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

Severus came through the Floo to Glenna’s house as he did every time he took the baby, his cloak draped around her and up over her head to shield her from the dust. It kept the squalling to a minimum and prevented her clothing from becoming soiled, though he didn’t need to worry about ashes in her hair, for all of her birth hair had already fallen out. What had begun to grow in its place was a fine, light brown fuzz.

He’d expected Glenna to be waiting, she always was, but he hadn’t expected Jack to come bounding in. They had an unspoken agreement that when Severus was with Jacinta, it was his ‘father time’. It wasn’t to be intruded upon by ‘Daddy’. Yet here he came! Severus’ brows dipped, his lip curled in preparation for a nasty insult.

“My dad’s coming!” he hissed at Severus, then whirled around and lounged against the door frame as if to block entrance to the room.

Although Jack was in no wise scrawny, Mulciber, Sr. shoved him aside with a swipe of his meaty hand. “Get out of my way, boy. Where’s my granddaughter?” He headed over to the fireplace where Glenna was holding the child.

Jack righted himself and spun, panicked at the thought of his father seeing Severus, questioning why he’d be here. One glimpse of the young man made him do a doubletake, then his heart began to calm and he smiled. Severus now sported short, dirty-blond hair, hazel eyes, and a rather small nose! He was virtually unrecognizable.

“So this is your cousin, Glenna?” asked Mulciber, hoisting the baby into his arms.

“Yes, Mr. Mulciber. His name is—”

“Zeb,” Severus finished for her, extending a hand. May as well toss the name out now instead of gaining another detestable name. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mulciber.” He tried not to sound too much like himself, for his voice couldn’t be altered as easily as appearance.

The man stared hard at Severus, to the point of making him uncomfortable, then gave a snort. “Looks like Jacinta got all her looks from Glenna’s side of the family.” He smacked Jack a light backhand to the chest. “The only thing she got from you was eye color. Let’s hope she didn’t get her brains from you.” He walked off chortling to himself.

Gritting his teeth to keep from declaring how much he hated the man, Jack followed them to the door, then stopped and turned back. “Nice job, Zeb,” he said, cracking a grin.

In a voice unmistakably Snape’s, Severus drawled, “I’m glad I could amuse you.” After Jack left, Severus crossed his arms and glared expectantly at Glenna. “I’m your cousin?”

“He wanted to know where Jacinta was,” Glenna explained sheepishly. “I said my cousin had come from up north to live in the area and you’d—he’d—taken her for a walk. At least I didn’t say you were a she!”

Conceding her point, Severus shrugged. “And at least you didn’t give me yet another God-awful name. My mother and I were discussing how Jacinta will address me, and she thought of ‘Uncle Zeb’. While I’d prefer ‘Dad’, I suppose it’s the best I can hope for.”

“From your middle name,” Glenna mused knowingly. “Uncle Zeb it is. I’m sorry it can’t be…what you want. I really should go.” She jerked a thumb in the direction of her family. “Bye, Sev—Zeb.”

“I’ll see you in a few days,” he answered. He watched the gentle sway of her hips as she walked out, then stepped into the fireplace for home.