Compared to their usual camps, this was heaven.
True, there were only two walls left of the old building, but they gave a surprisingly good protection against the ever-howling wind, and at least some sense of security, which was even more important to Jonathan. During the five weeks they've spent on the run, he could get used to the cold and the rain, even to the noises that filled the forest in the night, but never having anything solid behind his back was driving him crazy.
He wondered if they could risk spending not one, but two nights at the same place, just this once.
Burying his chin deeper into his scarf, he glanced sideways to Finn, but of course he was already out, nothing but the top of his curly hair visible above the hem of his coat. They were both tired to the bone, but Jonathan was still surprised to see how his friend could put down his head and fall asleep, just like that. Maybe it was yet another useful trick of the Aurors, to be able to rest whenever you had five minutes for it and wake as if your eyes have never been closed.
Not that he had anything to say against those tricks. The last time he went anywhere near a defensive spell was back in their seventh year with Gilderoy Lockhart, so it was only Finn's training that was keeping them alive, even if he tried to deny it to be a good friend.
"One day I'll be more than happy to have a Healer at hand," he would say. "But I hope it won't be any time soon."
To keep himself from falling completely into this awful mood, Jonathan cast another Illuminating Spell on his glasses and flipped the book sitting in his lap open with a deep sigh. When he bought it during the last time they dared to set foot in a service station. he thought it would be about treasure hunters in early modern Egypt, and only learned after a hundred pages that the protagonist, Miss Victoria de Vere was after completely different adventures along the Nile. But still, it was a book, and the time wasn't right for being picky. It wasn't that badly written, anyway.
He had not, however, read more than a few paragraphs, when he felt his wand shake in alarm as their protective enchantments were broken. He gave Finn a nudge on the shoulder, before leaping to his feet.
"Stop there!" he yelled, as he heard someone moving behind the bushes.
"I mean you no harm!" replied a woman. "Please, I'm just looking for my friends," she added in a scared voice.
"Come out slowly," cried Finn.
"And no tricks," added Jonathan, conjuring a small light to get a good look at the witch emerging from the bushes. She held her wand up in the air, gripping it by the tip, but she kept her other hand down, clutching her side.
"I want you to drop your wand on the ground, and tell us what you are doing here," he said in his best voice of authority. It was easy to see that she hesitated for a moment, but finally she let her hand down and dropped her wand too, putting a foot on it cautiously.
"Don't worry," said Finn, giving her a half-smile. "We don't want to hurt you either. You already said you were looking for your friends, so go on."
"We were attacked two days ago, and I got separated from them," she said, keeping a foot on her wand, but letting some of the tension in her shoulders go.
"Attacked by who?" asked Jonathan, lowering his wand a bit to stop blinding her with its light.
"Snatchers," she said, almost hissing, and Jonathan could not suppress tightening his jaw. "They must have tracked us, we had already settled down for the night when they came. They took one of us, but I saw two of the guys running away, and this is the road we would have taken, so I thought you were them. But you are not," she finished with a sad shrug.
"Are you hurt?" frowned Jonathan, as she kept her hand on her side still.
"I'll live," she shook her head with a painful smile.
"I can have a look at it," he offered, taking a step closer to her. "I'm a Healer."
"No thanks," she let her hand down, giving him another reassuring smile. "I'm fine."
"Do you think they could have followed you?" asked Finn, scanning the forest behind her.
"No. Not really," she said, shaking her head. "I spent last night hiding in a tree, and nothing happened."
"All right then," said Finn, giving Jonathan a glance. "I'll go and check the enchantments," he adjusted his coat, stepping closer to the witch. "Finn," he smiled, extending a hand.
"Tamora," said she, taking it and returning the smile, before bending down to scoop up her wand as he walked past.
"And I'm Jonathan," he said, motioning towards the walls. "Sorry for the unfriendly welcome."
"No problem," said Tamora, following him to sit down. "I guess it was a bit stupid of me, marching in without taking a proper look at you."
"Yeah, a bit," nodded Jonathan, knitting his brows slightly as they sat down next to each other. "Were you by any chance a Ravenclaw?" he asked.
"Yes," said Tamora with a politely confused smile. "Do we know each other?"
"I think I know you," said Jonathan. "My big sister was in Ravenclaw too, the same year as you, I think. Evelyn Miller. But you used to be blonde back then, right?"
"Yes, I... Yes, " said Tamora, but after that she went a bit speechless, clearly surprised by the fact that he recognised her with the jet black bob all Ravenclaw girls had to try at least once in their lives.
"Everything all right?" asked Jonathan, as Finn rejoined them by the wall.
"Perfectly," he said, sitting down beside them and stretching his legs.
"Guess what," smiled Jonathan. "Tamora here knows Evelyn. Small world!"
"Yes, small world," she nodded. "So Evelyn! How is she?"
There was a mere second of silence before Jonathan gave her a sad smile. "I don't know," he said. "You see, she and Mum, they left when V–"
"Don't!" cried Tamora, almost hitting him in the face as she covered his mouth. "Don't say the Name! It's been Tabooed by the Ministry."
"Really? When?" asked Finn, frowning slightly.
"You think that's how he...?" whispered Jonathan, a bit shaken by the fact that he had almost got them into grave danger.
"Probably," nodded Finn, keeping his eyes and ears on the forest around them.
"How he what?" asked Tamora, slowly pulling her legs back up against her chest.
"We've been attacked too," said Finn, with eyebrows still knit. "About three weeks back. And we never learned how he could have found us, we were covering our tracks with great care."
"He?" echoed Tamora.
"You should have seen him," replied Jonathan, his face lighting up with pride. "He was all alone, but this huge monster of a man, with beard and hair everywhere, and this belt with broken wands hanging from it, like some Indian showing off his scalps."
"Nice," said Tamora with a wry smile.
"Have you heard that they pay extra for our wands?" asked Jonathan. "So this sick bastard was not in it for the money at all! Or why would he keep the wands and not give it to the Ministry as well?"
"I think she gets the idea," smiled Finn.
"But the best part is," said Jonathan, opening his bag, "My shiny new spare wand! I think it's mahogany, or ebony, or something like that, but I'm quite sure its core is dragon heartstring," he beamed, presenting the wand as if it was Excalibur itself.
It could have been an act, but Tamora stared at it for a moment too long, as any thrilled audience would. "May I?" she asked, giving him a smile.
"Of course," nodded Jonathan, handing over the wand.
"Yes, I think you're right, it does feel like dragon heartstring," she said, rolling it between her fingers, before looking up at Jonathan, biting her lip. "I know it's an awful lot to ask, but I was wondering if there was any way for me to–" she started, choosing her words carefully.
"Have it?" frowned Jonathan with surprise.
"No, of course not!" said Tamora quickly. "But if it's all right with you, I'd like to use it, because mine's been hit by a curse, and I'd like to see if I could mend it somehow."
"You know how to mend a wand?" asked Finn with a frown.
"I think the core got a bit loose inside, so I'd try to fix that," she nodded.
"You shouldn't toy with it like that," said Jonathan firmly, shoving the wand into her hand. "Here, give it a try, and if it works for you, you can have it."
"No way!" gasped Tamora. "No, I can't –"
"Yes, you can, and you will," nodded Jonathan. "Take it."
"Thank you," she said, taking Jonathan's hand in hers, and he was sure he saw tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you!"
"I'm not using it anyway," he said, waving his hand generously.
"Here, try heating these," said Finn, taking a couple of tin cups out of his bag and pouring some water in them. Tamora waved the Snatcher's wand in the air experimentally before touching it to the side of one cup to duplicate it, then making the water bubble in all three.
"I think it likes you," nodded Jonathan, dropping a bag of tea in each of them.
"Mine's dragon heartstring too," smiled Tamora, caressing the new wand, before stretching out a leg to hide the old one in her boot.
"On your luck of meeting us then," said Finn, raising his cup, but Tamora held up her hand before he could take more than a sip of it.
"Just a second," she said, rummaging in her pockets, then presenting a paper sachet, like the ones they give in cafés, containing a single serving of sugar and pouring a third of it of each of their cups.
"Sweet carbohydrates," sighed Jonathan, bringing the cup to his lips with a smile. "It's Muggle for happiness," he added, when Tamora gave him a puzzled look.
"Oh, I was rubbish at Muggle Studies," she chuckled apologetically. "It was way-way beyond me."
"So you're not here because of your Blood Status," nodded Finn, taking a sip from his tea.
"No," said Tamora, shaking her head with a smile.
"Then let me guess," frowned Jonathan, turning towards her to get a better look. "You said you were with friends, so at least one of you must be in trouble."
"Order of the Phoenix," stated Finn, without a hint of doubt in his voice.
"Order of the... No," laughed Tamora. "What on earth makes you think that?"
"You're not an Auror, but you have experience," smiled Finn. "You've been attacked by Snatchers, but got away," he said, and started counting his arguments on his fingers. "You held up your wand, but you gripped it tight, so that we couldn't Disarm you. And when I asked you to drop it, you put a foot on it too. You know about the Taboo on the Dark Lord's name. And you're heading north, when everyone in their right mind is trying to get to the south," he finished, holding up all five fingers in an almost smug way.
"Good reasoning," grinned Tamora, bowing her head slightly. "But you're wrong. I'm no more Order of the Phoenix than you are, boys, sorry."
"Then why are you running?" asked Jonathan. "Come on, we could use a good story."
"I'm here because of a man," said Tamora, scratching her wrist just above her watch. "My man," she added, rolling her eyes with a defeated smile as Jonathan put his chin in his palm, getting ready for a nice, long tale. "He's the one in trouble, and he's the one who has to get to Helmsdale."
"Helmsdale?" gasped Jonathan, before looking at Finn with a laugh.
"What? Are you heading that way too?" asked Tamora.
"Yes," nodded Finn. "We're looking for my father; we heard that he is at the safe house there. So you're welcome to join us," he smiled. "We could be there by the end of the week."
"Thanks," said Tamora, cradling her cup in her hands. "But the end of the week? I thought we were much further down south."
"Guys!" whispered Jonathan, grabbing Tamora's arm as, for the second time that night, someone breached their protective enchantments. Not that they needed any warning, as one by one six or seven wands lit up with an eerie blue light around them.
"Please, don't run," cried a Snatcher, clearly the one in charge, stepping closer to them with an unpleasantly smug grin on his face. "You'll only 'urt yourselves."
He was probably right about that but, without a moment of hesitation, Finn whispered "Eyes!" to Jonathan, before turning to Tamora to cover hers as best as he could with one hand and conjuring a painfully bright light around their camp, blinding the Snatchers to give themselves a chance. The light didn't even really begin to fade when the first curses started to fly their way, but Finn let go of Tamora and Stunned the Snatcher standing the closest to them, while Jonathan took care of a second one.
"Go," cried Finn, as he turned towards the next Snatcher; a huge man with wolfish features and almost as much hair as the one whose wand Jonathan took, but when he missed he decided to run too.
It was too late to think about how much easier it could have been to go in the other direction, so Jonathan pressed his lips together and started scurrying from one tree to the next downhill, concentrating very hard not to fall. He could hear Tamora do the same not far from him, and Finn too, somewhat behind them, but still well ahead of the Snatchers.
They had almost reached the bottom when a Blasting Curse hit the tree between him and Tamora. He could steady himself, but Tamora tripped with a yelp and rolled on towards the valley until she crushed into a trunk. Yet, before Jonathan could get to her, she was back on her feet, screaming a first, a second then a third curse uphill.
"Oi!" cried the leader, taking shelter behind a Shield Charm. "Stop that, love, or you'll be very sorry for it later!"
As Jonathan grabbed her arm to lead her on, Tamora wiped some blood from the nasty cut above her eyebrow irritably and started backing off, but Finn took the chance and sent a few more curses towards the Snatchers. He couldn't hit any of them, as they were already in defence against Tamora's attack, but he managed to buy some time for the others to finally reach the valley and cover him while he descended after them.
None of them saw the wolfish Snatcher coming. At some point he must have left his company to take a different way down the hill, for he attacked from the side just as Finn left the last of the trees. He didn't even care to use magic, just tackled Finn to the ground, holding him down firmly with fingers that seemed to end in claws.
"Go! Just go!" shouted Finn, trying to free himself from the Snatcher's grip without any success, while both Jonathan and Tamora stood there, frozen.
"Take one more step and your friend'll pay the price," yelled the leader, as finally they got to their senses and started backing away. "'Ave you ever seen a man bein' mauled by a werewolf?" he added, walking down the rest of the hill with his men. "Ain't pretty, I 'ave to tell you."
"Don't listen to him, just go," cried Finn, still struggling, even though he was no match to the strenght of the werewolf. But he was all the distraction the Snatchers needed. With a loud crack, three of them Apparated behind Jonathan and Tamora, two pulling him down to the floor and one grabbing her by the arms.
"Tie 'em up to that tree. We'll make camp 'ere tonight," ordered the leader, Summoning their wands and pocketing them. "'Im too, Greyback" he nodded towards the werewolf, who hauled Finn up from the ground with an indignant grunt and dragged him to be put with the others.
They took their time with the ropes, leaving no hope of escape for the prisoners, but the ones pulling the knots too tight weren't the worst by far. The werewolf, Greyback, was sitting on a fallen tree, never taking his hungry eyes off them, and a young man with a freshly scorched face stood nearby, watching Tamora with open hostility.
"All right, that's enough. You're not wrappin' 'em for Christmas," said the leader, as he finished his cigarette. The tall one, standing on Jonathan's side, gave the ropes a hard final tug, before stepping back and pulling a small black book from his pocket.
"Let's start with you, Godric," smiled the leader, walking closer to Finn. "What's your name?"
"Godric," answered Finn with a straight face.
The leader gave a sharp bark of a laugh, before slightly bending down with hands on his thighs to Finn. "'Ere's the sad truth," he said with a sigh. "Keepin' your name from us won't do you any good. But see that little book, my good friend, Bart's clingin' to? If you're in it, with a price on your 'ead, we'll make sure you live to see the mornin'."
Jonathan could feel Finn tensing against their ropes, and for a moment he was absolutely sure his friend would kick the Snatcher, tied feet or not. He tried really hard not to think about what would happen to him after that.
But the kick never came. "Finn Holland," he said instead.
There was a heavy silence, while Bart shuffled the pages. "There, Finn Holland," he cried, tapping a finger on it triumphantly. "Half-blood. Auror in training. Wanted for liberating a Mudblood from the custody of the Ministry of Magic," he read on. "Twenty-two galleons and seven sickles, alive."
One of the Snatchers cheered, hearing the sum, and the leader nodded with a grin too. "Congratulations, Finn, you'll definitely live to see the mornin'," he said, patting him on the shoulder, then moving on towards Jonathan and Tamora. "So, which one of you is the Mudblood?" he asked, looking at them curiously.
"It's me," said Jonathan, raising his chin slightly.
"Good," nodded the leader, not taking the effort to get their eyes on level. "Name?"
"Jonathan Miller."
"I've got him," said Bart, finding him right on the next page. "Jonathan Miller. Mudblood. Five galleons and a knut, alive."
"What?" cried one of the Snatchers, hurrying closer to Bart to get a look at his book. "No extra? He's a runaway!"
Jonathan couldn't help fidgeting, as even the leader turned his back on them and went to check it. "What 'ave I told you about true names and prices on your 'ead?" he asked with a frown, returning to them with the list in his hand.
"I'm not lying!" Jonathan tried to back away as much as the ropes and the tree behind him let it.
"And if I ask your lady-friend?" smiled the leader menacingly, moving towards Tamora.
"He is who he says he is," said Tamora in a voice just a little shaky. "Your book must be wrong," she added, as the Snatchers all looked at her.
"I'm sure it must be," said the leader after a moment of thinking, mockingly bowing his head and taking a step towards her. "And you are...?" he asked, and put a knee down on the ground close to her.
It took her a second to get back her air of bravery. "Tamora Malory."
The leader started turning the pages, slowly tracing the line of names on them, and Jonathan could feel Tamora breathing faster as he was getting closer to the last. "Sorry, love. You're not in 'ere," he said, looking up at her with raised eyebrows, as he reached the end of the book.
Only Greyback went on picking his teeth as if nothing happened. Some of the Snatchers started shifting from one leg to the other, one or two smiled, and the one with the scorched face tightened his grip on his wand.
"Check again," whispered Tamora, panic slowly seeping into her voice.
"I can check again and again until dawn breaks, but you're not in 'ere," smiled the leader, snapping the book closed and putting it into his pocket.
"Then you should check it with your bosses," snapped Finn, trying to lean forward to make eye-contact. "Your list could be missing more than one update."
"Look who's got 'er own knight in shining armour!" laughed the leader, and some of his men snickered too, before he turned back to Tamora. "But Godric's right. On the list or not, you could still be precious," he smiled, licking a thumb and wiping away some dried blood from her face with it.
She didn't move her head, and didn't even flinch, but as the leader stood up and turned his back on them, Jonathan could feel her shudder with a sigh; could feel an angry lump forming in his throat. They should have made sure that at least she got away.
"Is that all?" gasped the Snatcher with the scorch, stepping closer to the leader as if he was ready to fight him.
"Yes," he nodded. "You 'ave a problem with that?" he asked not even gripping his wand any tighter.
At least two of the company risked an expectant glance towards their rebelling friend, and Bart scratched his face too, looking at Tamora, who pulled her knees up to her chest with fear still glistening in her eyes.
"No," said the young man, taking a step back and dropping his gaze.
"Good. Let's settle for the night then," smiled the leader, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Bart, you take the first watch," he jerked his head towards the prisoners before walking on.
One by one all the Snatchers left to make camp, until only Bart stayed with them. Before taking a seat, he walked up to them and gave the ropes a final check.
"Let me go," breathed Tamora, as he got close enough.
"I can't," he said, shaking his head. "Stay put. He can't wait for you to try something funny."
It must have been a trick of the shadows, as one of the Snatchers started the fire at the middle of the clearing, but for a moment Jonathan could have sworn he saw some compassion crossing his face, before he turned his back on them to walk and take the seat on the fallen tree.
For an hour or so, nothing happened. They tried to loosen their ropes, but it was impossible to do anything about them without Bart noticing, so they gave up on it.
"They will have to move us," whispered Finn, as there was an ungodly roar of laughter coming from the camp and Bart turned to see what it was all about. "We'll try something then."
It wasn't much, but coming up with a perfect plan sounded like a good enough distraction from the Snatchers and especially their fire. It's been too long since the last time Jonathan has felt comfortably warm, so he closed his eyes, shut out the smell of wood smoke and cooking food, and started to think. His hands were bound in front of him, giving him a chance to get a wand. If he acted as soon as the Snatchers loosened the rope tying him to the tree, and could get one from them–
It was Finn's deep intake of breath that woke him from his thoughts, and it took him a few seconds to realise why he could feel Tamora tense beside him.
Finishing their supper, the Snatchers started to abandon their fire, some setting up tents and some spreading out sleeping bags, but one of them walked away from the group, heading towards the prisoners. Even with the fire behind his back, it was easy to guess who it was.
As soon as he saw him coming, Bart got up from his seat too, tentatively stepping between him and the prisoners.
"Relax, he knows," said Scarface, stopping by him. "He sent me to take it from here."
Jonathan had to stretch his neck to get a glimpse of the leader busying himself with his tent, holding it upright with his wand while driving its pegs into the ground with the heel of his boot.
"Take my word for it, or run and ask him, I don't care," sighed Scarface, as Bart turned and looked at the prisoners, then back at the camp, clearly not trusting him any more than they did.
Watching Bart give them a final look and strut away was bad enough, but then he reached the camp and the leader. They couldn't hear a word from it, but the conversation was dishearteningly short, and ended in Bart leaving the leader and his half-made tent behind with a frown and sitting by the fire to have his supper.
"See?" yelled Scarface, lifting his arms, before walking to the fallen tree and sitting on it, taking his wand from his pocket. He must have seen what Jonathan could feel, that Tamora went rigid with fear, but he gave no sign of enjoying it. And yet they all felt it, as he just sat there, keeping his cold basilisk eyes on them.
Just as Jonathan started to feel like he could no longer sit and wait for something terrible to happen, Tamora drew a deeper breath beside him. He tried to be very stealthy about it, but as soon as he started looking for the source of her excitement Scarface lifted his head too, first studying them with squinting eyes, then turning towards the camp on alert to see who's coming.
"Everythin' all right up 'ere?" asked the leader as he stopped halfway between the prisoners and the fallen tree.
"Yeah," nodded Scarface, looking up at him. It was hard to tell what angered him more, that he kept him from taking his revenge on Tamora, or the fact that after doing so, he dared to turn his back on him, even when he had a wand in hand he did not.
"You look cold, love," said the leader, kneeling beside Tamora like he did before, touching her face with the back of his hand, and Jonathan could feel his stomach turn when he caught the term "lesser of two evils" running through his mind.
"Leave her alone!" he snarled, louder than he meant to.
The leader looked at him with a chuckle, and turned back to her with raised eyebrows. "Is that what you want? To be left alone?" he asked, taking his hand from her face and putting it on her knee.
She said no, but it was easier to hear the ropes around her as she shook her head with it.
A threat and a curse were both on the tip of Jonathan's tongue, but before he could spit either out, he felt a sharp nudge in his side, coming from Finn's elbow, that made him snap his head towards him. But this of course made both Scarface and the leader notice them too.
"Somethin' you've got to say, Godric?" he asked, turning from Tamora and eyeing them with a puzzled smile.
Finn pressed his lips together hard, looking at him, then at Scarface, and finally at Jonathan and Tamora. "Her decision," he said, clearing his throat "And we've known her for only an hour," he added.
It was the foulest thing Jonathan has ever heard him speak, and for a moment he felt like he could easily tear his ropes with the rage rising in his chest. But then he saw the leader's hand wandering down Tamora's leg and suddenly realised what Finn was playing at.
"Is that so?" mused the leader, and Jonathan had to force himself to tear his gaze away from his hand and look at her face instead. He desperately wanted to say something to her, to tell her to be brave and use the wand hidden in her boot well, but of course he did not dare to speak a word.
"I'm sorry," said Finn, and the way Tamora nodded towards him made Jonathan's heart skip a beat. He could still feel how tense she was, but there was no longer panic in her eyes, and he refused to believe it wasn't because she was thinking along the same lines as Finn.
"There's nothin' to be sorry for," grinned the leader. "I'll make sure she likes it," he said, lifting his hand to caress her face, before he drew his wand to free her from the main rope tying her to the tree and grabbing her arm to help her to her feet.
Even with the plan and their chance of escape in mind, it was hard to watch them walk away, and Jonathan could feel a shiver running through him that had nothing to do with the cold of the night.
"She'll be all right," whispered Finn, not taking his eyes off her either, not even when she and the leader finally reached the camp and disappeared into his tent.
Hearing that, Scarface looked at them with his basilisk eyes and laughed in a way that made their skin crawl. But he didn't know about the wand. And he didn't know her.
oOo
It wasn't a long walk or a tricky terrain, but Tamora felt like the hand on her arm was the only thing that kept her up and going. She only wished they could stop waltzing through the camp and get into the tent before the last of her strength left her, because she feared her knees might give way any second.
She saw it coming and in the back of her mind she even tried to get ready for it, but when the flap of the tent closed behind them and he turned her around to kiss her hard, she crashed into him with a yelp like a rag doll.
"Fuck," she breathed, as he finally let go of her lips. "I thought you'd let him get me!" she whispered in an unnaturally high voice, with eyes still closed. She tried to look for some support, but with her hands still tied before her, she had to settle for the front of his coat and cling to it for dear life.
"You know I would ne'er do that," chuckled Scabior. He was clearly very pleased with himself and his sick game, but when he got no answer from her, he took her face in her hand and lifted it to make her look at him. "But make sure it ends here," he said, caressing her cheek.
She could only nod and grab his coat tighter. He was right, Octavian hated her from day one, but she never thought he'd dare to act on it too, and now that he had, it scared the hell out of her.
"Take care of him, before he turns the Garrets against me as well," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and she knew it was an order.
"I will," she smiled weakly. "But how about you take care of me first?" she turned to kiss the base of his thumb seductively.
They had so much to discuss, like the prisoners heading towards Helmsdale, the mahogany wand that Henning Turner would surely buy back from them at any price they had the cheek to set, and of course she had to come up with a plan to get rid of Octavian too, but she didn't feel like scheming while she was still shaking inside. Anyway, she had worked so hard all night, and deserved some time and fun before she had to get clever again.
Thank you for reading. Please, leave a note if you liked it.
I would also like to thank my friends, Gitta, Anna, Sam and DolbyDigital for all their help and support with this story.
Also, there's a lot more Scabior in the following chapters. :)