Chapter 1 – Misconceptions
The Minister looked gloomily down at the reports in front of him, resisting the urge to sink his head into his hands; it wouldn't do to look weak in front of his staff. Carefully he set down the last of the papers and looked up at the room's other occupants.
"Well we knew it'd happen eventually, I suppose," he said evenly. "Everyone's out?"
"Only the Death Eaters, sir," said Kensington calmly. Jeremy Kensington was one of the most senior Aurors in the Ministry, with over a decades worth of experience and an impressive track record of arrests. He'd saved Scrimgeour's skin in a fight more times than he could count, and even in the face of a mass Azkaban breakout he was as unflappable as ever. "They left the others in there."
"But there is something strange, sir," put in Andrea Redstone, and Scrimgeour heard the note of uneasy confusion in her voice. "They appear to have taken a body."
"A body?" Scrimgeour frowned, leafing back through the reports on his desk. He hadn't seen anything about a body.
"Sixteen years ago one of the inmates died and Julian Dalloway - he'd just been elected interim Minister - gave the order for the cell to be bricked up," explained Kensington. "Only when we went to inspect Azkaban, we found it'd been blown open and there was no sign of a body."
"Was this inmate important?" asked Scrimgeour wearily. He had quite enough on his plate without having to worry about Death Eaters going body snatching.
"Meant to be quite high up by all accounts," answered Kensington, dark eyes watching the Minister intently.
"Well then it's simple, isn't it?" said Scrimgeour, drumming his fingers on the polished mahogany desk. "They took the remains to bury them, right?"
"Only there was nothing in the cell," said Redstone. "Nothing, Minister. Bodies decompose, but we couldn't find a trace of...anything."
"So what are you saying? That no one was in the cell when it was bricked up?" asked Scrimgeour, staring between the two of them in bewilderment. "Don't we have people to check this sort of thing? Who identified the body?"
"Albus Dumbledore and Remus Lupin," said Kensington, not quite meeting Scrimgeour's eyes. The second name sounded familiar, but it took him a few moments to work out why.
"Isn't he that teacher who got fired from Hogwarts a few years back?"
"He resigned, Sir," corrected Redstone reproachfully. "But, yes, it's him."
"But he's bloody werewolf!" shouted Scrimgeour. "You trusted him?"
"The records say that he didn't want to come," said Kensington. "But since he appeared to be the only other close contact who wasn't either in Azkaban or suspected of working for Voldemort, we had no other choice."
"So what you're telling me is that we only have the word of a dead man and werewolf that this prisoner was actually deceased," demanded Scrimgeour, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Kensington and Redstone were silent as Scrimgeour leant back in his chair, tapping his fingers irritably on the desk. At last he said: "Pull in Lupin. Give him Verita Serum and see what he has to say for himself. How dangerous is this guy anyway?"
"Lupin? Seems a quiet sort of man by all accounts."
"Not him - the missing body," snapped Scrimgeour impatiently. A flicker of a smirk crossed Kensington's face as he shook his head.
"I think you must have misunderstood us, Minister. Archer's not a man, she's a woman."
"Alive?" asked Remus blankly. He was sitting in a cold stone room on Level 2 of the Ministry of Magic, and the patriarchal Auror opposite him had just finished filling him in on the events of the past few hours, complete with photographs of the ruined cell. "But that's impossible." In actual fact it sounded like an incredibly Katherine sort of thing to do, but he wasn't going to admit that. "I saw her body. She was stone cold and now you're trying to tell me she's alive?"
"How can you be sure she was dead?" asked Kensington leaning forward and gazing intently at Remus.
"She wasn't bloody breathing!" exclaimed Remus, angry at the attitude of this man and his patronizing tone. "When people are alive they tend to have more of a heartbeat."
"Even so," said Kensington calmly, sliding a small vial and a bowl across the table towards him. "If you would be so kind?"
Remus thought about refusing, but decided against it. They only needed a small excuse, like obstructing investigations, to lock him up - they might even give him his friend's old cell. It was depressing to think that that left them two to choose from.
He drained the vial of Verita Serum and withdrew the memory of that visit more than a decade ago from his mind with the wand Kensington handed to him.
"Thank you, sir. You've been most obliging," smiled Kensington.
"Can I go now?" asked Remus with a sigh.
"Of course. Have a nice day."
Remus didn't see fit to reply to this so instead he stood up and walked out of the room without a backward glance. Why were they dragging this up again?
"Everything ok?" asked a worried voice, accompanied by a small warm hand slipping into his.
"Fine," murmured Remus, smiling slightly at Tonks. Her hair was electric blue today and her dark eyes were bright with worry. "They were just making a few inquiries."
"So nothing's up?"
Remus shook his head. "Just the Ministry being over excitable."
As if she was alive. No one could survive in a bricked up cell for sixteen years without food and water. Not even her.
"I'll see you tonight, then?" asked Tonks, gazing up at him. "At the Burrow?"
Remus nodded. "I'll be there."
Tonks kissed him on the cheek, then hurried off back to work. Remus watched her go for a moment, then headed towards the lifts, thinking about the interview. It had been eighteen years since he'd last spoken to Katherine. They'd had breakfast together and chatted about the weather and plans for the weekend and then that evening she'd been arrested following the attempted murder of James and Lily Potter.
Remus was still not entirely clear on exactly what had happened there. Although both James and Lily had testified to the veracity of the reports, James had been remarkably forgiving about the whole thing and he was usually the first to find fault in the most innocuous of Katherine's actions.
He stuck his hands into his pockets and to his surprise felt a slip of stiff card in one. He pulled it out and saw it was a photograph – one of the photos the Auror had been showing to him. How it had come to be in his pocket, he had no idea. He sighed, gazing at the dank cell surrounded by fallen bricks and mortar.
All those adventures, and you go and die in Azkaban. Never did understand your logic, Kat.
He shook his head and stuffed the photograph back into his robes. Some things just weren't meant to be.
Remus was sitting in a chair by the fire, listening to Fred and George explain about their latest idea for the joke shop, when the door bell chimed for the tenth time that night. He was about to get up and answer it when Fleur came rushing into the room and almost dove for the door handle. She pulled it open, and flung her arms around the new arrival.
Fred and George exchanged curious glances; Fleur had seemed quite happy to let the others greet the visitors before, what was so special about this one? The newcomer was ushered in, Fleur talking animatedly to her in French.
"And this 'es Fred and Georg – Bill's brothers," said Fleur at last as the robed figure removed her cloak, straight blonde hair falling over her shoulders. "And that 'es-"
"Remus Lupin," said the new woman softly. Fleur started in surprise and looked from Remus to the woman in bewilderment.
"You 'ave met?" she asked uncertainly.
"Eighteen years ago," whispered the woman, smiling faintly. "You don't remember me, do you Remus?"
Remus, who had in fact been silent as a result of shock, shook his head. "Of course I do – but whatever are you doing here?"
"She was my Engleesh Professeur at Beauxbaton," asserted Fleur, tossing her silvery blonde hair over one shoulder.
"I thought you went to America?" asked Remus, frowning.
"I did, but then I was asked to come back and teach, and Papa needed looking after," explained the woman, shrugging. The bell rang once more and no sooner had Fleur opened the door, than someone flung themselves into the room, knocking Fleur's Professor off her feet. Remus rushed forward immediately, hauling Moody back with a considerable amount of effort.
"Let go of me, man!" shouted Moody angrily. "She-"
"It's not her, Alastor," cut in Remus, as the woman picked herself up with the help of an outraged Fleur. Moody's striving lessened slightly as his electric blue eye swiveled to face Remus.
"Then who the blazes is she?" he demanded, scowling.
"Her name's Faye Belle," said Remus, gazing at Faye over Moody's head. "And she's her cousin."
Later that night Remus and Faye sat at the kitchen table, listening to the Weasley twins' reenactment of Moody's entry going on in the next room. Remus cringed and apologized for the hundredth time that evening.
"It's fine," assured Faye, smiling wryly. "What I don't understand is why he'd think I was her. I'd like to think I look slightly better than a ten year old corpse."
This thought had occurred to Remus as well, though he hadn't yet had a chance to run his theory past Moody. He shifted awkwardly, then pulled the photograph of Katherine's cell out of his pocket and pushed it across the table towards Faye.
"I was called into the Ministry earlier," he said in a low voice. "Some Aurors went to inspect Azkaban and they found that someone had broken into her cell. There was no sign of a body so now the Ministry have got it into their heads that she's still around. I guess they told Moody – he was lead Auror on her case."
Faye said nothing for a while, only stared at the photo.
"Someone broke in?" she repeated eventually. Remus nodded.
"Sounds stupid, doesn't it. I mean, half of them couldn't stand her to start with."
"Where's the door?" asked Faye, barely acknowledging Remus' comment.
"What? Oh, they bricked the whole thing up. Think Dalloway was worried she wouldn't stay dead if they took her outside the walls to be buried," sighed Remus, frowning slightly at Faye's odd expression. "Why?"
Faye looked up, her green eyes filled with a mixture of worry and fear and, just possibly, a glimmer of hope.
"If someone broke in," she said softly. "Why is all the debris on the outside?"
It was almost midnight when the hooded figure hurried up the deserted street, wandlight flickering before them. It stopped for a moment, the beam of white light illuminating a dirty road sign. Spinner's End.
Less than a minute later, the same figure knocked softly at the door of the last house in the row. There was a short pause, then a small, balding man opened the door an inch. The figure in the shadows raised an eyebrow.
"Wormtail. So this is where you've got to. Is Severus in?"
Wormtail said nothing, only pulled the door wider and allowed the stranger in, before leading him into the main room. Severus looked up from a book and frowned at his visitor.
"Avery?"
Robert Avery shook back his hood and grinned. "Severus."
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" demanded Severus, standing up, wand in hand.
"Now, now, Sev. Is that any way to greet an old friend?" reprimanded Robert, drawing his own wand.
"Emphasis on old," snarled Severus. "How did you find me?"
"Lestrange told me," said Robert absently, looking distastefully around the room. "This is where you live? No wonder you're always in a bad mood."
Severus didn't answer, only glared at the blond man, who grinned again and pulled a photograph out of his pocket.
"Nott came to see me earlier. Kensington has been in touch with him and guess what he found out." Robert tossed the photograph at Severus, who caught it, eyes never flickering from Robert's smirking face.
"Some rubble. How very interesting," remarked Severus dryly.
"Ah, but it's not," smirked Robert, pocketing his wand - somewhat unwisely in Severus' opinion. "You see that room, well it's a cell in actual fact, that cell was bricked up seventeen years ago." He grinned at the flicker of comprehension in Severus' eyes and nodded. "Yeah, you got it."
"Why did they open it?" asked Severus, frowning distrustfully.
"They didn't. They found it like that," said Robert calmly, his brown eyes alert with amusement. "They say someone broke in."
Severus glanced down at the photo once more and realised why Robert was looking so pleased with himself. It had probably never even crossed the Ministry's mind to take a closer look at the facts, since what they were suggesting was quite clearly impossible, but it was obvious once you knew who you were dealing with.
No one had broken into this cell, but someone had broken out.
Dark blue eyes gazed into glassy silver ones. The latter pair belonged to a small statue, roughly two feet high, that stood on a small plinth in the center of the cavernous room.
Long white fingers picked it up, studying it curiously. After a few intense minutes, the figure holding the statue swore profusely and set it roughly back down on the plinth.
"Just my luck," she muttered, running a hand through her long black hair. All this effort and it turned out she'd destroyed the real one over two decades ago.
She frowned, casting an eye over the serene statue which depicting a woman wearing a plumed helmet and a linen shift, holding a spear in one hand. On her shoulder sat a bird, but not an owl, as would have been expected, but an eagle.
She wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. When the original statue had arrived, she'd thought it strange that Athena had an eagle on her shoulder, but had copied it just the same. Now it turned out that Tom had never been after the Statue of Athena and it's legendary wisdom after all - it was Ravenclaw's relic he'd wanted back.
Granted the spells binding the statue had been a little difficult to undo all those years ago, but she'd presumed it was just because they were old magics. She sat down, hugging her knees and thinking hard.
Tom must have made the horcrux years before hand, then sent it off to Spain to keep it safe while he prepared somewhere safe to store it. Then, when everything was ready, he'd made arrangements for it to be returned. Entrusting the delivery to her had been a rather serious error in judgement, all things considered.
She sighed, glancing at her watch absently. 1:00am. Well, she couldn't stay here for the night.
She got to her feet and shut her eyes before taking a calm step forward into the void below her and kept walking. As long as her eyes didn't see that she was stepping onto thin air, she wouldn't fall hundreds of feet to her imminent death. Easy.
She only opened her eyes when she felt cold air on her face and a breeze rippling her hair. The graveyard was deserted, save for a single bird, high up on tree branch. It soared down to greet her, landing easily on her shoulder.
She stroked its soft feathers with one hand and Archimedes blinked at her in acknowledgement, then soared off again, high up into the night sky. Katherine Archer watched him until he was just a speck against the bright moon and then shut her eyes and vanished.