Linuxia

Sirius wandered around the school, as Snuffles, and pondered what had just happened. He had apologized, then bollixed things up even more than they had been. He wanted to let Sammy know how sorry he was, but he had almost no experience in the art of apology. He knew that flowers and chocolates usually help with a paramour, but Sammy was no lover of his. He would not have minded that, but it seemed as though Sammy had other intentions, as she came back to her room smelling randy, and like a certain boy in Gryffindor, whose scent Snuffles had caught on Harry once or twice. Still, he supposed the candy-and-posies approach would not hurt.
Sammy lay on her bed when she heard a familiar whimper behind her. “Go away.” There was a slight weight laid at her back, then another whimper. She turned. “I said go-” There sat Snuffles, with a bouquet of wild roses and a box of Honeyduke’s finest chocolate in his mouth. He laid these down as if to say, ‘I’m sorry.’ “Oh, Snuf, they’re lovely.” She placed the flowers on her bedpost, blooms down, to dry. She then opened the box of chocolates. “You didn’t steal these, did you?” There was a pop, and Sirius Black closed the curtains facing the door.
“I couldn’t bloody well walk up to the window and get them, could I?” He smiled. “I bought them the same way I buy anything: I write a note, and enclose money in a little pouch. I carry the pouch into the store as Snuffles, then I have the proprietor read the note and I get what I need. The people in Hogsmeade are getting rather used to seeing me.” Sammy laughed as she had a chocolate cream truffle.
“You’re so clever.” She smiled at him. “But that still doesn’t mean I’m not angry at you for lying to me.”
“I didn’t want to, honest!” He nicked a chocolate, then spit it out. “Coconut. I hate coconut.”
“Serves you right.”
“Anyway, I didn’t. I had to. That doesn’t mean I liked a minute of it.” He eyed her appraisingly. “So, who’s the boy you smell like?”
“Seamus Finnigan, not that it’s your business.”
“Going after ol’ Irish eyes, are ya, lass?” Sirius chuckled teasingly. Sammy pitched a hazelnut cream at him.
“Who I go after is my own business.” She ate another chocolate. “I don’t particularly see why it should matter to you, anyway.”

Sirius wasn’t sure how much it mattered to him, either, but they curled up together that night, and Sirius popped banto nto dog form soon after Sammy fell asleep. He couldn’t be too careful, after all. There was a bit of a ruckus as someone came into the room. he peeked his nose out, and saw a blonde boy snogging a redhead that looked like a thistle. Tastes come in all flavors, as mum used to say. The two of them tussled romantically for a bit, before the girl whimpered, and the boy let up. “What is it?”
“I just . . . needed . . . air, Ron . . .an.” The girl panted. “Like I need you now.” She smiled. Sirius knew what she was talking about, and wondered if the boy did.
“I need you, too.” No. He didn’t. Sirius buried his head in his paws. The girl, Blaize, he thought her name was . . . shook her head.
“I need you here.” She snatched one of his hands and put it on one of her breasts. The boy gulped. She had called him Ronan. “Don’t you understand?” Her hand snaked down, toying with his belt.
“I . . . yes.” He gulped again. “But oughtn’t we wait un-” Blaize yanked him on top of her, onto the bed, kissing him like a hedonist on an aphrodisiac.
“Oh, Blaize . . .” Sirius buried his head under a pillow. he didn’t need to hear the one activity he missed after the last thirteen years, especially lying next to a semi-nubile young woman.

Samara didn’t come to bed, a few months later, until very late. She smelled like Seamus, and Sirius could smell the boy’s saliva on her. She also was trying to hide a small afterglow. He’d rubbed her off. Sirius could tell that glow. He’d seen it enough. As Sammy sat down, he jumped off the bed, and curled up on the floor by the heater. He was jealous, and all these teenagers were making him randy. Were they trying to torture him?? “Snuffles, what’s wrong?” Sam patted her hip. Sirius did his best to glare at her. “Snuffles, what-” Sammy stopped mid thought. “He’s my boyfriend. Deal with it.”
Sirius looked around. And popped into his human form.
“Get over what?” He flipped his hair back. “You thought I was sleeping in your bed cuz I liked you? Cuz I wanted to make love to you?” Sirius sneered. “You’re a quick source of warmth to me, GIRL. What you let guys do to your snatch isn’t my prerogative. You’re not as popular and sought-after as you think.” He leaned over her quickly. “Got that, sweetheart?” Sirius laughed harshly. “You don’t give a shit about me or what goes on, just so long as you have a cute little puppy to play with.” Sammy looked very pale. “Well, I don’t need you.” Sirius turned his back to her. “Or your little bath times.” With that, he walked out.

There was a scratching on the portrait of the Fat Lady. Harry was in the Common Room late as it was, having gotten tired of hearing Seamus brag about how great Sammy was. He went over to the portrait and opened it. There was his godfather, fully dog, sitting cutely. “What are you doing here? Harry yanked him in. Sirius transformed, and yelped.
“That hurts, you know!”
“You idiot! Anyone could have seen you!” Harry snapped, letting go of Sirius’ collar.
“You and Snape both underestimate me.” Sirius rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn. this place never changes.” He looked round the Common Room. “Harry, can I sleep with you?” Harry blushed a bit, then nodded.
“Was it that obvious?” Sirius’ back tensed.
“I didn’t mean it THAT way!!” Sirius turned. “Snuffles needs a home. He got kicked out of the Slytherin’s seventh year girls’ dormitory.”
“Neither did I!” Harry’s blush deepened. “God, you thought I . . .that’s EUUUUW . . .”He and Sirius both looked at each other and shivered. “You are SO not my type.” He smiled. “Come on, Snuffles.” He lead Sirius up to the Gryffindor Seventh Years Dorm.

There were a few girls in the Dorm with Harry and Ron, but most of them were girls Sirius had already met. There was one, however, he didn’t know. Harry introduced Sirius around. “Everyone, this is my Godfather, Sirius Black.” Damn him and his honesty. “Sirius, this is Seamus Finnigan,” a sandy-blonde boy with a shamrock around his neck; “Ron you know,” The tall redhead waved from a bed, on which with him was “Hermione ,” Who also waved. “Who you also know, Dean Thomas,” a tall black boy with a pleasant smile; “Neville Longbottom,” Sirius knew the last name was coming. Neville favored his mum. “And the girls are Parvati Patil,” A dark-haired girl with tanned skin, impudently pretty. She was cuddling with Dean. “and I saved the best for last.” He smiled at a redhead on his bed. “This,” he indicated to Sirius. “Is Virginia Elizabeth Weasley. Ginny.” He walked over to her and rubbed his nose against hers. “My girlfriend.” Sirius nodded.
“OOH . . . he’s the strong, silent type.” Parvati breathed. Dean looked at her.
“He’s also old enough to be your dad!”
“So? I can admire a good piece of work. Can’t I?” Sirius blanched.
“Um . . .” He looked at Harry.
“Parvati!” ‘Mione chided her. “Cool your jets!”
“Anyway, Sir. You can stay here for the time being.” Harry nuzzled into Ginny’s hair.
“Hermione’s not a girl, Harry?” Sirius chuckled slightly. Harry looked perplexed, then realized he’d introduced Hermione separately from the collective ‘girls’.
“She’s a girl, I just never think of her like . . . you know . . . a girl.” Harry was digging himself deeper every second. “Like a dateable, er- not that you’re not pretty, Mione,- you . . . just . . . you know?” He finally shut up, very flustered.
“To sum up,” Ginny chuckled impudently, “He thinks of Hermione as a girl except when he thinks of her as a friend, which is pretty much every waking moment.” She paused. “He could never group her in with someone he would actually date, because he doesn’t love her that way.”
“Precisely, Firefly.” Harry squeezed her into him, loving how soft she was.

Great. If it wasn’t Latin-boy and Twiggy getting it on, it was Ron and Mione swapping spit. Favoloso. Sirius curled up on Harry’s bed, as Snuffles, and wondered where Harry was at this very moment. Mione had said something about a special Quidditch Practice, and it had been nearly six hours. Ron and Mione were about to start on the next generation of Weasleys when Harry walked through the door. “Enough, you two. Or take it somewhere else.” Harry’s tone was surprisingly clipped. He stripped off his outer robes and sat on his bed. Mione wormed herself out from under Ron.
“What’s up, mate?” She pushed Ron’s hand off of her chest. “Quit it, will you?” She chided him. Harry looked at Ron, and said.
“‘Just a few dates, mate?’ ‘See how it goes, mate?’ ‘She’s over the moon, mate.’ The little tramp is no more faithful than she is a virgin.” Harry snapped at Ron.
“Ginny?” Ron looked scared.
“No, the Archbishop of Canterbury. YES, Ginny.” Mione decided she had better intercede, or Ron and Harry might never talk again.
“Look, you two, let’s discuss this calmly.”
“I’m calm. I’m so calm it scares me.” Harry pointed out. It was true. He wasn’t flushed or anything. It was Ron who was about to blow a gasket. It WAS his little sister’s honor.
“What are you implying?” Ron whispered.
“I? I’m implying absolutely nothing.” Harry breathed. “Your sister is just a little slut, is all.”
“And what, pray, do you base that statement on?” Ron’s eyes flashed, and Sirius could smell his anger.
“She’s preggers, Ron.”

If things had been tense before those three words, that was nothing to what they were after. It was good that both Sirius and Hermione had killer reflexes. Sirius was able to dodge Harry, who in turn was dodging Ron, who was soon tackled by Hermione. “You little shit! How dare you touch her!” Ron was foaming at the mouth trying to get at Harry.
“You talk like it’s mine!” Harry panted, wand out.
“Why the hell would she tell you if it wasn’t?” Ron started digging for his wand.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Mione screeched. “HARRY! Put the wand down.” Harry, stunned, obeyed. “Ron.” Ron didn’t need told, even. He put his wand back in his robes. “Now then, if the baby is not your issue, whose is it?”
“Malfoy’s. I overheard her telling him. I chanced upon them on the way here from Quidditch Practice about three hours ago. They were snogging, and I wanted to throttle him til the Second Coming, but he was kissing her . . . like . . . like . . . Like I kiss her. And I had to go off and. . . well, I cried. I couldn’t stop myself, and I didn’t want to cry in front of Malfoy, but I did. Before I knew it, Ginny was just looking at me, and it was like the past three years were just . . . show. She never loved me. That’s what that look said. Ever since she saw, sh, she wanted to be his, and damn it if his father hasn’t even written yours. Lucius Malfoy actually wrote your dad over the summer. He wanted to negotiate a contract, he said. I don’t know what your dad’s response was, but apparently they are intended. Now by more than just love. I wish the best for her. I really do. But when was she going to let me know? When I was on my knees at End of Term?”

Ron couldn’t believe what his best friend was telling him, but there was a seriousness in Harry’s tone that could not be ignored. “Gin’s . . .” Ron managed.
“Pregnant.” Harry filled in. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. . .” He muttered something, and two golden plugs appeared in his ears. He lay on his bed, an proceeded to cry some more. Mione bent her head near his.
“Eleanor Rigby. Apropos.” Hermione whispered to herself. Ron sat numbly, and she went over to him. “It’s okay, Ron.”
“My little sister is pregnant.” He inhaled slowly. “Do you have any idea how much trouble I’m in?”
“They can’t possibly-” Ron cut her off with an upraised hand.
“My parents may be tolerant, Mione, but they are also traditional. Ginny’s virtue is mine to protect, being her closest brother. And I’ve failed. How do you think Mum’s going to act when she finds out I let her Ginny-Pinny-” Hermione chuckled. “don’t ask- get knocked up?”
“That’s rather a crude way of putting it.” Hermione hugged him. “You’ll still have me.”
“Thanks, Mione.”

Sirius woke up the next morning sick to his stomach. Harry was gone, and Sirius heard a retching noise from the toilet and knew where to. Harry had gone to be sick. There was a soft pop, and Sirius walked over to the toilet, and held Harry’s head. “Thanks.” Harry muttered.
“Thinking of Ginny?” Sirius asked. Harry retched, and added to the mess in the toilet bowl.
“No. I just woke up sick. Really suddenly, like someone hit me in the stomach.” Sirius nodded.
“Morning sickness. Your dad got it, as well as your mum.” Sirius smiled.
“Ginny’s not my girl anymore, though.” Harry sat on his heels.
“Do you honestly think that means anything? You’re still sympathetic to her. Just so long as you don’t pop out a kid, I won’t worry too much.” Sirius clapped him on the back.

Talk soon spread about Ginny and Malfoy. Nothing accurate, though. Mostly that they were dating each other to get back at Harry for some unknown sin. Harry laughed every time he heard a new rumor, and soon was sitting next to Ginny, comparing stories they had heard. Harry started liking her more, but never quite forgave her for double-teaming him. Harry looked across the hall, and saw Samara Snape. Everyone knew that she and Seamus were bound to be engaged soon, but Harry couldn’t help remembering the dreams that had haunted him over the summer. That girl knew him. And what’s more, he wanted to know her. There was, however, the minor problem of her father hating Harry with a passion.

Sammy walked up to the staff table soon after Harry had looked at her. “Daddy, we need to talk.” Severus Snape looked at his daughter.
“Can’t it wait, peach?”
“NOW.” Snape looked at his daughter.
“You have lessons in half and hour.” Where did she get that demanding tone from?
“It’s important.” Sammy tapped her foot.
“So is your education. This isn’t a state school, you know.” Snape ate a few bites.
“Thanks for your advice, you old sod!” She stormed off. Snape weighed the options. He thought he had been reasonable. His daughter had just called him a sod, so he must have messed up somewhere . . . maybe she really did need some fatherly input. But he could not take the hit to his dignity that chasing after her would give it. He decided that it most likely would be better to wait until after class. She DID have his class today. He would chase after her ONLY if she decided to skive off, which he had to do anyway, as her Head of House.

Sammy sat in the Astronomy Tower, crying furiously as she watched the sun drift lazily through the cloudy sky. Seamus had tried to pressure her into having sex with him. After all she had been through, he tried to get her to do that. All men were idiots. Blaize had abandoned her, and Malfoy was the father of Weasley’s unborn child. Life was fucking great. She whispered, “I hate love.” There was a sudden flaring of rage in her, as though she were being possessed by something. She stood, and walked towards Slytherin House, looking for Malfoy, a diabolic smile on her face. She ran into her father, who was not happy.
“Samara Manuela Snape.” He had used that tone only with Potter. “You have some explaining to do, young lady.”
“As do you, Severus.” She hissed. Snape recoiled slightly. That voice . . . “She is lovely. Her mother was not one of ours, but there you have it. and I cannot fail to notice . . . of whose line you bred with.” Severus Snape grabbed his daughter and pressed their heads together. He searched, and found what he was looking for.

Samara lay curled up at the feet of a black-crowned figure, clad in midnight green. “Let her go.” Severus commanded. The monkeyish face looked at him.
“She is perfect. I wish to claim her as mine. surely you, as a relative, cannot object to such a good pairing.”
“She is not the one you seek.” Samara wailed as Severus said this, her body arching in pain.
“She carries her. Her soul is bound to Eve’s, and I have come to claim my mate!” Eve. Severus did not miss the significance of that name. The mate. The mate that had fled the garden with Adam, the first.
“What makes you so sure?” Severus asked.
“Quit your stalling. If you want her, you must come take her, though I am not sure she will live through it.” Samara noticed her father.
“Daddy . . . let him take me . . .” Let this thousand-year-old sod have his precious girl? Bugger. That.

Sam felt like her head was splitting open as her focus came back. Her father was holding her, panting as they both stood in the corridor. “Daddy . . .” she whimpered.
“It’s okay, sweet one.” He held her.
“No it’s not.” She sniffled. “I need a drink.” Severus chuckled, and took Samara back to his office.

“I know that you and I haven’t bonded in a while,” She sipped her brandy, and felt her head lapse into fuzz. “but I needed to tell you something this morning. It was- IS- really important.” Severus looked at his daughter. She had been possessed. Yet she looked as though nothing had happened to her. It scared him. “Seamus and I have been dating for a while, as you no doubt have noticed.” Severus nodded. “I was very up-front with him about my experience at Malfoy Manor, and still he-” she sobbed. “He tried to . . .” Snape felt his grip on the chair arm tighten. “He wants to . . .” God, couldn’t he take the conversation away, as he usually did?
“He wants to have sex.” Snape growled. “That’s grounds for expulsion, if you are caught in the act.” He looked at her, his glare softening. “What did you say?”
“I told him I wasn’t ready.” She sipped her brandy again. “He just looked at me weird. Like he didn’t believe it.”
“I won’t ask details on your experiences with him, but I think he may be confused because of what you two have done so far.” Sammy sniffled in response. “But I won’t linger on this.” He sighed. “Why is it you didn’t start school before now?”
“I didn’t think of it. Young Master- erm . . . Draco started school, and I never thought thes ofs of it. I asked Master . . . er, Lucius, about it, and he merely said that we would see. Dobby taught me how to read, and to write, and then Mistress caught me in the library.” She shivered, remembering the ensuing beating. She had bled until only a clear goo could seep from her body, and then Mistress had beaten her into unconsciousness. It was one of the worst.
“He most likely burnt your letter.” Sammy shook her head at her father’s supposition.
“Mistress always did those things. Lucius was almost kind, sometimes. He gave me small things, things only a girl would admire.” she sighed. “A magpie feather, a pretty stone.” Mistress had found these, too, and the gifts had stopped.
“Why is it Lucius never told me?” Severus muttered.
“Would you? I think I’d like to keep my manhood, if I were he.” She shot her father a pointed look.
“He could have written.” Severus snapped.
“YOU could have visited!” Severus met his daughter’s accusing gaze, then dropped his head.

“My parents were very traditional. Much akin to the Malfoys. They were ashamed that I had chosen a girl that was not of Salazar Slytherin’s bloodlines.”
“Like the Merovingians.” Samara nodded.
“Kind of. They did not approve of your mother, who could trace her line to Merlin. They didn’t like who was between she and Merlin.”
“Whom?”
“They did not like that I had married one of Gryffindor’s line. Not a direct descendant. She was the result of a bastard child. Gryffindor’s sister, a twin actually, had a child whose father she would not name. She named the boy Ethan. He grew up into every promise a wizard should have. Good looks, sharp wit, everything. There was only one flaw in the boy, as far as Gryffindor was concerned. He was sorted into Slytherin.” Samara nodded. “My parents said that they would kill any child I had with her, and would kill her besides. They threw a gala party when she died, just after Voldemort met his demise. They lived to see Voldemort return to power, and then died, leaving me the Manors and the money. They took my ‘celibacy’ after death as a sign of penance, rather than a mark of my grief.” He put his head into his hands. “Do you understand now why I could not write you, let alone see you?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Samara looked deep in thought. “Are we, by any chance, related to the Potters?”
“A very distant relation. They are actually Ravenclaw’s descendants. There is a mutual cousin about four hundred years ago. We, since you are so interested, are of Slytherin’s line. Again, not directly, but of a closer relation than Lucius cares to admit.” He smiled. “That little Johnny-Come-Lately GIT.”
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Next Chapter: Time Warp!

Also, I threw in a little smut for all you patient ppls!