Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, nor do I own Harry Potter. No copyright infringement is intended. Also, the title of the first chapter is taken from a Sylvia Plath poem. And this chapter's title is from one of Shel Silverstein's. Who is pretty awesome. That is all. :D
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She wanted to kill him.
If Max told her to smile one more time…
"Kate, do I need to go get a dictionary and read to you the definition of smile? Because what you're currently doing is an insult to the term," the magician snapped, still speaking in his pseudo-intellectual tone of voice as though there was an actual audience to perform for in the rows of tattered theater seats.
There wasn't. Because everyone remotely sane was at home and in bed at this hour.
The glower she sent the thin man in reply was most decidedly not a smile. Max straightened to his full height (which wasn't much), as though daring her to challenge him. If this was any other time, Kate might have laughed at the sight of him in his bright and ridiculously garish costume, staring her down like he was Emperor of the world. But this wasn't any other time. Kate barely had enough energy to stand, let alone laugh.
"Max, this is ridiculous," she said, lifting a hand to her neck to rub at the sore muscles, grimacing. "We've gone over this routine twenty times already tonight."
"It's Maximus," he corrected sharply, his eyes turning to irritated slashes. "Staying in character is key, Kate. It's called being professional." His eyes trailed over her form, lip curling scornfully in an action that briefly revealed his blindingly white teeth. "But then I suppose I shouldn't be very surprised at your lack of concern over that. Especially given what occurred at your last place of employment."
The words struck Kate like a wrecking ball to the chest.
Surely something had struck her. It would explain the way there was no longer air in her lungs.
"You don't want to lose yet another job, do you?" she heard him ask bitingly, unaware or perhaps uncaring of her frozen state. Even if she'd been able to speak, she couldn't have. If she spoke now, she would cry. She couldn't cry. She couldn't.
And so, rather than tears, flashes of memory obscured her vision. Mutely, she stared off at nothing and shook her head in a gesture that was so faint it almost wasn't there at all.
"Then I expect a better performance next time. See that it happens, would you?" he said dryly, not bothering to wait for an answer before turning and exiting the stage with quick, steady steps, removing his jacket and muttering under his breath as the darkness swallowed him.
Only with his absence could Kate breathe properly again. And with the newly reinstated air, she made a low, angry sound directed at no one but herself. Honestly, why had she just stood there? Why didn't she say anything back to that ingrate of a man?
Coward.
Disgusted, Kate made her way backstage to her dressing room, heels echoing loudly in the empty corridors. Her movements were quick and angry when she finally slumped into her chair and began the involved process of taking off the heavy makeup she suddenly hated even more now if that were even remotely possible.
"Professional," she muttered, pulling back her hair with a scowl as she recalled Max's sneering little face and fondly fantasizing about ramming her fist into it. "Professional arse is what you are."
She held on to her anger fiercely. Like a lifeline. Anger was good. Anger kept her from feeling other things. It kept her from thinking other things. Like how Max might have had a point. How she'd been a complete, utter, unprofessional fool for ever falling for her boss, of all people. Just look where that had gotten her.
Here.
"You still here, Kate?"
The voice was unexpected, but her body relaxed when she glanced up from her dressing table to see Marvin Dawes, a short, bespectacled old man with graying hair and kind eyes. It was his job to clean up backstage each night and make sure things were ready for the show the next day. Kate cleared her throat, doing her best to rid her expression of all moroseness before smiling faintly at the old stagehand. She'd grown rather fond of him since coming here. He was probably the only genuine thing about this job.
"Yeah, I was just cleaning up. Organizing my things," she replied. "I'll be out of here in a minute."
"It's late. You walking home again?" Marvin asked, a touch of concern in his voice. "You want me to walk with you?"
Kate smiled softly at him. "No, that's all right. Really, Marv, I'll be fine," she said, trying to erase his slightly worried expression. "I've been walking home this late nearly every night. Don't worry about me."
"Well…alright," he said, still looking unsure. "You just be careful then, yeah? Not safe for a girl to be out by herself at this hour."
"I will. Thanks Marvin. I'll see you tomorrow then, okay?"
"Alright. Night Kate," he said, smiling.
"Night." She watched him shuffle off and sighed softly as she turned back to her dressing table. Another night over and done with. This was by far her favorite time of the day, when the makeup and costume came off and she transformed back into her true self. A much plainer self, yes…but a true one.
Her chocolate brown eyes met their mirror counterparts, and she studied herself in the rather dingy looking glass. Plain features. Long, chestnut brown hair. Average frame. She wondered, and not for the first time, if it was her appearance that had pushed him away. Made him lose interest. Or perhaps there hadn't been any interest to begin with…
Quickly, she blinked back the tears that threatened to form at the thought. And once again she became angry with herself, only this time it was for acting like a heartbroken, weepy teenager. She wasn't a girl anymore. This was life and this was how things were. Period. There was no use in crying about it.
Which, really, was easier said than done.
With one last glance around, she grabbed her bag and coat and weaved her way through the corridors behind the stage until she came to the back entrance. There was a distinct chill in the night air, and a light breeze swept over the empty parking lot as she crossed it, pulling her coat a bit tighter around her. Her flat wasn't too far from the theater, but the trek always seemed longer this time of night. The sidewalks were deserted and dark clouds passed slowly over a sickle moon, leaving very little light to lead her way. She glanced up at them and made a face.
Great, she thought bitterly. More rain. Just what we need.
The streets were still wet from the downpour the night before. Sometimes she wondered whether London was the best place for her to live. Always gloomy. Always dismal. Didn't exactly do wonders for her mood.
Hugging her arms tighter around herself, Kate let her mind start to wander again as she walked at a brisk pace. She was just passing by one of the many alleys that littered the way back to her flat when a loud crash rang through the night air before something small and fast sped right over her feet, effectively startling her to a complete stop. Instinctively, she jumped back with a small shriek and prepared to defend herself when an old tin trashcan rolled out from the alley. It was only then her eyes took in the culprit of the sudden commotion.
An orange cat was streaking across the street, disappearing quickly into yet another alleyway with impressive speed. A whoosh, and the air escaped from her lungs, turning into a shaky laugh as she willed her speeding heart to slow.
"Bloody cats," she murmured. She resumed walking, though now her pace was a bit quicker than it had been before. All she wanted to do was get home, take a nice bath, and fall asleep.
All was silent for a while. The only sound to be heard was her heels clicking softly against the cracked concrete. A glance at her surroundings told her there was only about a block or so left to go.
And then Kate heard a noise that made her freeze and tense up in fear.
Footsteps behind her. And they were running.
Fast.
She whirled around, eyes widening when she saw two rather huge men coming at her with alarming speed. So sudden was the change in the atmosphere, she stood utterly frozen in place for the second time that evening, only this time it was fear that held her there, not pain. The men noticed her, their furious strides slowing noticeably as though they, too, were surprised by her presence blocking their path down the otherwise deserted sidewalk. Confusion was beginning to seep in with the fear. Why did these two, much larger men seem apprehensive all of a sudden?
"They've cut us off!" she heard one hiss to the other.
The confusion grew. Who was they?
"Confringo!" another voice far behind the two men cried, cutting her thoughts short and thrusting the scene into action once more. Kate didn't have time to wonder about the strange sounding word, because it was accompanied by a bright red flash of light that briefly illuminated the street in its glow. She gasped, finally startled out of her frozen state, watching wide-eyed as one of the burly men just barely dodged the red streak.
"We've got to leave, they outnumber us!" the other one said sharply, clearly in a small state of panic. "Do it now! As many as you can."
"Inveniorum!" his companion shouted in compliance, aiming something towards the unseen pursuers. Another flash lit up the night, followed by a muffled curse.
Until now, Kate had watched, slack jawed and frozen, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. But when the men turned once more towards her, sense was the very last thing she was worried about. One of them quickly raised something small and thin in the air, something that looked very much like a smooth, straight, wooden stick. The sight of it did not frighten her on its own. How could it? It was more befuddling than anything else and had she any time to think about the situation more thoroughly, she would have guessed that these people had all just recently escaped from a mental institution.
No, the stick on its own was not frightening. But paired with the look of pure malice on the man's face who now pointed it at her…
Yeah, it was pretty damn alarming.
"Inveniorum!"
The strange word was shouted once again, only this time it was directed at Kate. A bright, blinding blue light surged and crackled from the stick, streaking from it with horrific speed and accuracy. Whoosh, it went, hitting her directly in the chest with enough power to hurl her backwards, having her gasping in surprise at the sudden burning pressure inside her like a dull fire tracing a path through each and every vein. The sudden step she'd been forced to take was unfortunately placed, her heel catching on one of the many cracks in the sidewalk and effectively pitching her backwards towards the wall of the building that lined the street.
Her head made contact first, a swift crack against the brick. A sharp, bright pain as she slumped to the floor. Her body was motionless on the damp sidewalk, and yet somehow she still felt as though she were falling, even as her eyes continued to gaze upward at the blurry moon that hung in the night sky above her. She blinked once, slowly. Two faint pops sounded from somewhere around her, but the buzzing in her ears was quick to overwhelm anything else she might hear that would explain the strange noises. Her lids, heavy, moved to close again against the pain.
And closed they remained.
Just ahead, two cloaked figures were slowing their pounding steps to a stop.
"Damn it," Remus Lupin cursed, breathing heavily as he stared at the place where the two men they'd been pursuing had just disappeared from. He had yet to notice the girl, still much too overcome with adrenaline and disappointment over the sudden loss of their hunt. Beside him, a pink-haired witch was bent over at the knees and clutching at a stitch in her side with panting breaths.
"Fuck's sake, I'm not cut out for this foot chase stuff," she breathed, wincing. "Why couldn't it have been on brooms…"
"Quit your whinging, Tonks," a third wizard said thinly, catching up to the other two. He was also holding his side, but for a different reason entirely. "You're not the one who got bloody hit—"
"Remus! Look!" Tonks cried suddenly, cutting off the remark as her wide eyes finally caught sight of a slumped form just ahead. Remus turned quickly, gripping his wand tighter as though preparing for another attack. But it only took a moment for him to process what he was now seeing. Instantly, his features paled.
"Oh no…"
Three long strides and he was at the girl's side, crouching and immediately sweeping his eyes over her form, checking for injuries. His hand reached behind her head, encountering something sticky. When he pulled back, his fingers glistened a dark red in the moonlight.
"Was she hit?" Tonks asked, alarmed and at his side immediately.
"You saw the bloody light, didn't you?" the other wizard asked, irritated but joining Remus and Tonks in their study of the unidentified woman. "What, do you think he cast it at the wall? Course she was hit."
"A bit tetchy tonight, aren't we Lionel?" Tonks replied, shooting the man the very briefest of glares. Her eyes were drawn back to the woman, her study becoming more thorough; catching tiny details she'd missed before. And then…an alarming realization.
"Good lord, she's a Muggle!"
Lionel peered with keener interest at this outburst, eyes flitting to Remus. "Is she…?"
"Knocked out," was Lupin's quiet reply. "Must have hit her head on the way down." He sighed, raising a hand to rub at the back of his scarred neck, fingers digging into the skin harder than necessary. As though trying to help loosen the blood flow to his brain to make sense of the situation more quickly. His motions paused when a question came to his lips.
"You were hit too weren't you?" he asked, looking to Lionel. The other man nodded as his hand went to his stomach almost involuntarily, feeling a phantom ache.
"Wasn't very effective, whatever it was. Felt strange though," Lionel replied with a bit of a frown.
"What was it?" Tonks asked, keeping her eyes glued to Remus, knowing if anyone could recognize the strange spell it'd be him.
"Inveniorum is a tracking spell." The words were said simply, though there was no mistaking the hard look that overtook Lupin's features. He was worried.
"Do you know how to break it?" She crouched beside him, the words coming from her quietly as though fearing the answer.
"No," he admitted, confirming those fears in a quiet of his own. Lupin's eyes shut briefly, immersing him deeper into thoughts that worked at light speed to come up with some sort of solution. When they opened again, his blue depths were the color of a troubled sea. "It's intricate. Complicated. It could take days…weeks."
A low curse hissed from Lionel. "Why the bloody hell would they do that?" he asked, clearly incensed by this information and the realization that Dark wizards now held information about him at their disposal. "They could have fired something that would have caused a bit more damage, don't you think?"
"I think what they've done is more damaging than you realize," Remus replied, deep in thought again and not bothering to spare the other man a glance.
"Grimmauld Place is protected. Even if they followed me there, they wouldn't be able to get in," Lionel countered stubbornly.
"No," Remus agreed, this time meeting the other man's gaze, "but they'll be able to see you coming, won't they."
It wasn't a question.
"They've rendered you useless to us. The minute you step outside protected boundaries you'll turn into a beacon. They'll see you from miles away. Where you go, who you talk to, when you get too close." Remus sighed, tired and heavy. "Or maybe they're trying to pick us off one by one."
"What do we do with her, Remus?" Tonks asked, quietly interrupting the two men's conversation as her eyes returned to the woman.
"Obliviate her," Lionel cut in, as if it were obvious. His features were still contorted into an expression of the utmost aggravation.
"We can't," Remus responded, shooting him a look. "They've obviously mistaken her for one of us. If we leave her, they could come back and kill her."
"And what, then, do you suggest we do about it?" Lionel inquired dryly. "Might I remind you she's a Muggle."
Remus bit back a sigh of frustration. "She's hurt. We can't just leave her. We'll have to…bring her back and figure it out there." Even he sounded unsure. Reluctant.
"Remus…" Tonks began, her words fading meaningfully.
"I know," he said, avoiding her gaze. "But we don't have a choice."
And as though unwilling to waste any more time out in the open, especially with two people under a potentially dangerous tracking spell, Remus lifted the woman in his arms and Apparated with a loud pop cutting through the thick, dark night; Tonks and Lionel quick to follow.
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The door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place burst open violently as Remus came striding through it with the unconscious girl in his arms. Almost immediately, Mrs. Black began screeching from her portrait, shouting obscenities that carried through the entire house. A quick nod from Remus moved Tonks and Lionel forward ahead of him to do their best at quieting the cantankerous woman. But Sirius had quickly appeared from the hallway leading into the kitchen already, looking distinctly annoyed at all the racket.
"Bloody hell, what's going—"
His words stopped short as his eyes took in Remus, widening when they saw the girl in his arms.
"What is that?" he asked sharply, looking quite alarmed.
"It's a woman, Sirius," Remus replied dryly, shifting the girl in his arms and starting to move past his friend to go upstairs. Sirius' alarm turned to aggravation at this.
"I know it's a bloody woman, what I meant was what is she doing here?" he bit out, catching Remus by the arm just as he'd placed a foot on the first step. He looked down at the woman's appearance, taking in her clothes and suddenly becoming quite alarmed again.
"Good god, is she a Muggle?" he sputtered.
"Yes," Remus said calmly.
He shrugged off Sirius' hand and once more attempted to climb the stairs. He only got halfway before Sirius' initial shock at hearing this information wore off.
"Remus, stop right now and tell me what the hell is going on!" Sirius said, voice harsh and angry. Remus paused on the stairwell and bit back an impatient sigh.
"Sirius, she's hurt. I need to get her to a bed, so I'm taking her into one of the guest rooms," he replied, his voice becoming slightly hard as well. Sirius response to this was to look even more irate than before.
"You are not!" he cried. "This is MY house and I'm not going to let some…Muggle in here."
Remus raised his eyebrows a bit and spoke wryly. "I never pegged you as being so high-minded, Padfoot," he said. "New development is it?"
Sirius glared dangerously. "Do you realize where you are? How do you know what her ties are? She could be working for the other side. Have you lost your bloody mind?" he said, voice rising with each word in indignation.
Remus growled under his breath and once again resumed his trek upstairs, ignoring Sirius' disbelieving look. "I can't deal with this right now. I'll tell you everything when I have a chance after I've settled her in. Do me a favor, make yourself useful and get some water for her. Dora…find Molly. Tell her to come right away."
"Got it, Remus," Tonks replied, exiting out the front door quickly. A faint pop was the only indication of her departure.
"Settled her…?" Sirius' words trailed off in disbelief as he watched Remus disappear upstairs.
"Daft as a loon, that one," Lionel offered with a nod towards the place Remus had been only seconds before. He turned away to amble off toward the drawing room to get a drink, shaking his head. "Honestly, bringing a Muggle in here…"
He left Sirius behind, whose dark form still stood at the foot of the stairs, numbly agape. Above him, Remus' muffled footsteps as he tended to the Muggle stranger signaled the beginning of a shift in the house's atmosphere, as though it was adjusting to the sudden change that had occurred in the last few tense and harried moments.
And he hated it already.
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When you have as many children as Molly Weasley (and most of them boys, at that), you learn a thing or two about handling head injuries.
When she finally arrived at Grimmauld Place, it took her less than a minute to take charge of the situation, shoving Remus aside so she could see what the damage was and tend to the unconscious Muggle woman. Sirius had decided to sulk silently in the kitchen away from all of the commotion, his already dark mood turning perceptibly darker. His patience was wearing thin. No one had bothered explaining the situation to him yet, or why the woman was even here in the first place.
"Of course not. Why would they? It's only my bloody house and all that…" he muttered under his breath as he paced the room.
"You've really got to get this talking to yourself thing under control, Padfoot."
Sirius stopped mid-stride when Remus' voice interrupted his thoughts, watching with a frown as his friend entered the room and tiredly moved to a seat at the table. He hadn't even taken his coat off yet, and in typical Lupin fashion it was faded and torn in places, a reflection of the sandy-haired man who wore it.
"And who do you suggest I talk to instead?" Sirius came back with dry irritation. "Unless I'm mistaken, and I'm not, no one's bothered to tell me a damned thing."
"Forgive me for being a bit preoccupied until now," Remus' voice held an edge that was uncharacteristic of him. It was very telling of the stress he was currently under, and it was also what caused Sirius to lift a dark brow at his friend. Remus saw it and sighed.
"It's been a long night, Sirius," he went on, his tone adopting its usual calm tenor now. "A long, disastrous night."
"What happened?" Sirius asked quietly, though his body remained tense.
"We came upon two of them. Caught them by surprise, I think. They panicked and ran for it, so naturally we chased them."
"And the woman?" Sirius asked. "How'd she get involved in all this?"
"She was alone. On her way home, I presume," Remus responded, still calm, though he was looking more and more exhausted. "They must have mistaken her for one of us in the panic and fired a spell at her. She hit her head on the way down."
Sirius clenched his jaw and turned his head away, trying not to let his temper grip him again. It should have worried him how easily he was able to slip into a state of anger these days. But he'd long since stopped caring about runaway emotions.
"Well that's a crying shame and all that, Remus, really, but why in God's name did you bring her here of all places? You could have easily dropped her off at some Muggle hospital or something…"
Remus bit back another sigh and lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming along. It didn't help that the next full moon was steadily approaching. "She was hit with a tracking spell," he finally said as he dropped his hand and met Sirius' gaze with a steady one of his own. "An inconveniently difficult and complicated tracking spell. If I'd left her there or taken her to a hospital, they would have found her. This was the only place that was protected enough to prevent that from happening."
"Tracking spell?" Sirius asked, astonished and momentarily forgetting his previous anger. "But…why?"
"Lionel was hit too." Remus stared off at nothing, clearly deep in thought as he mused, brows furrowed. "It was like they'd planned beforehand on casting it if they were ever in a tight situation. We outnumbered them. They wouldn't have gotten away if they'd stayed to fight. And we weren't exactly giving them time to be concentrated enough to Apparate, so they did the next best thing, really. Took out two of us with a spell that would effectively weaken our forces. Or what they thought was two of us, anyway," he added with a frown.
Sirius looked aghast. "Well can you break it?"
"I don't know," Remus replied, looking grim. "I'll have to do some further research, obviously, but even without that I know it'll take weeks. Tracking spells are almost impossible to break when someone other than the one who cast it is doing the breaking."
"Weeks?" Sirius nearly spluttered. "Are you telling me that she has to stay here until you can break it?"
"They can't find her here, Sirius," was Remus' tired reply. "You know as well as I do that any Dark wizard isn't going to ask questions about who they're killing. If they believe she's one of us, which they do, then they'll have the element of surprise thanks to this spell. Of course they'd take advantage of that."
"Remus," Sirius began, placing his hands on the table opposite him and leaning forward, his grey eyes storming, "you don't even know this woman. And she's a Muggle on top of everything else! How do you suppose she'll react when she wakes up and discovers she's in a house full of people who call themselves wizards and oh! By the way, love, you can't leave," he flashed his teeth in an insincere smile that vanished almost as instantly as it had appeared. "Do you have any idea how big of a problem this is?"
Remus had kept his stare sober as Sirius had went on his tirade, but now there was something hard and distant in his gaze. "I'm well aware of the enormity of the problem, Sirius," he replied quietly. "But it's our fault this happened to her in the first place, no matter how inadvertent. The fact that she's a Muggle changes nothing. Have you really forgotten what it is we've been fighting for all these years? When exactly was it you'd lost your heart completely, friend?"
The last statement brought with it a heavy silence in the room. Remus could almost see the walls come crashing down around Sirius, barricading him off from everything around him. The dark-haired man straightened, his gaze turning cold and hard. He knew exactly when he'd lost his heart. He could even have told Remus the very moment the loss had occurred. He'd all but handed it away right along with the piece of advice he'd given his very dearest of friends that day. The advice that would ultimately lead to their deaths.
"I'm sorry," Remus cut in with another sigh, regret lining his tone. He looked at Sirius in a way that hinted he knew what was going through his friend's mind right now. "I didn't mean that."
"I may not have a heart. But at least I still have some common sense," Sirius said, his expression still dark as he ignored the apology. "Something all of you seem to be losing more and more of these days. This situation will turn into a bigger problem than it's bloody worth, mark my words."
And with that, he abandoned the kitchen with a quiet scoff of disgust, desperately needing to be alone right now. Remus' frustrated stare went completely ignored.
Deep down, Sirius knew he didn't truly mean what was implied behind his last statement. Deep down, he knew the woman was an innocent in all this and couldn't sensibly be held accountable for the events that had placed her here. Deep down, Sirius Black really did have a heart.
But deep was a long way down.
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AN: The spell and Lionel are of my own creation, just fyi. And whee! Chapter two! Hope you enjoyed. :) Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Comments are deeply appreciated! Have a great day guys.