9 – Between Two Worlds

Albus sat in the large, fan-backed armchair by the unlit fireplace, his elbows resting on the cushioned arms, his fingers steepled under his chin. The merry glint that usually shone in his bright blue eyes was gone, and he was lost in thought. A scrap of cream coloured parchment lay on the low table in front of him, and he eyed it suspiciously. The owl had arrived nearly an hour ago, surprising Albus as this was a safe house, unplottable. How did the owl find its way here? The note was short but provided enough information to unnerve the aging wizard.

Albus and I met at this house when we needed to speak face-to-face. It was the house that I had been transported to from my funeral pyre several years ago, the one where Severus had nursed me back to health, and the one that Severus and I had used, on occasion, to meet secretly when I was in England. It was filled with bittersweet memories, but it was also the safest location to meet.

I returned to the small library with a tray of tea and biscuits and placed it on the side table between the twin armchairs.

"Do you think you could do it?" Albus asked quietly, still deep in thought. He looked so much older when he was worried.

"Honestly, it would not be wise," I replied settling myself in the vacant chair beside him and pouring the tea. "The culture is very different from the western world. Women are seen as supremely inferior and are kept covered and hidden. They have no say in how their lives are run and are certainly not asked for their opinions. It would not be advisable for me to go. A man would be more effective."

He sighed and lowered his hands to his lap, toying with the brocade edge of this robe. I handed him a cup of tea, and he nodded his thanks.

"Can you trust this report?" I asked, trying to be as tactful as possible while being straightforward. I figured that if the owl had made it to Albus at a safe house that meant one of two things, either our security had been breached or the owl was from a highly trusted informant and very urgent.

"I would like to think I can trust this individual, but in reality, there are few people that I trust completely," he replied gazing in to the empty fireplace.

I nodded in understanding. Even though we worked with a variety of individuals, any one of them could turn or be used against us. Already many had been discovered as being under the Imperious Curse during the war. We had to be careful.

"Severus may be the logical choice to send. Are you in contact with him at all?" he inquired through sips of tea.

"No," I sighed. "The last time we spoke was Yule last year, and it wasn't pleasant. He's blocked me out. But, apparently he was at my graduation. He sent me a rose and a very brief note."

Albus' eyebrows rose almost to his receding hairline, and a flicker of a smile played across his lips.

"Really? And, yet he refuses to speak with you?"

"Yes. It hurts, but I've realized that I have to let go. If not, I won't be able to focus properly."

Albus nodded sadly in agreement. "Do you still love him?"

"Yes, I think I always will, but life goes on. It's no use pining for someone who doesn't want anything to do with you." I paused at that thought. "How is he doing at the school?"

"He plays his part well. He's Head of Slytherin. Only the three of us know that Voldemort is not truly gone, and he must maintain the image of one still loyal to the Dark side. That charm of his is very effective. The image that he has built will be useful in the future. I'm not surprised that he's blocked you out. You were the most positive influence in his life. He was a different person when he was with you."

I sighed and leaned back in my chair remembering some of the times that Severus and I spent together. I smiled to myself, and Albus noticed.

"A good memory?" he inquired with hope in his voice.

I nodded. "He had borrowed a friend's motorbike and drove it around the village. I swear he pouted when he had to give it back."

Albus chuckled lightly at the thought.

"How is the work with Remus and Mr. Belby?" He changed the subject noticing my eyes begin to glaze over.

"It's progressing well," I replied, snapping out of a growing depressing mood. "I think we may have located the section of Remus' brain where the chemical change occurs for lycanthrope. We need to do some further testing before we can create any potions."

"Ever the cautious one." Albus' fingers steepled at his lips as a slight smile spread across his face, and the twinkle began to return.

I smiled back. "It's kept me alive this far."

Darkness fell, and dinner had passed. This was the longest that Albus and I had spent together in years. It was nice and comfortable. Granted, most of the talk was about work and plans and what if's, but it was becoming more natural. I guess, maybe, I'd just accepted that this is how our relationship was. We had one focus, and that was the fight against those that still supported the Dark side.

I was the first to leave from the fenced-in backyard of the small stone house. We were far enough in the country that there were no immediate neighbours. Albus was still puttering around the kitchen as I departed. He had agreed to speak with Severus regarding the information that had arrived earlier. That would mean a trip to the Near East before the students returned to class. I would provide as much information as I could, forwarding the names of my contacts. Albus still thought that I was the best person to track Voldemort but conceded that in this case, a wizard would have the best luck at obtaining the required information.

Professor Kurtz sat behind a small, steel desk in an office that was no bigger than a large broom closet. The room was cluttered with books and folders that were piled on every available surface, from the desk and file cabinets to the floor. It looked as if a paper-recycling factory had exploded. The door was ajar by a couple of inches, and I was able to see him leaning forward in his seat, frantically scratching out notes on the loose leaf in front of him. I hesitated, trying to determine the best moment to knock. He paused and leaned back, bringing the pen to rest between his teeth, tapping his left index finger on the desk in front of him. His pock-marked face was in its permanent scowl as he re-read what he had written.

I knocked, and the door pushed open slightly.

"What?" he hollered sharply, showing a slight startle.

I pushed the door open further and stepped into the entranceway.

"Oh, it's you," he said curling his lip as if smelling something distasteful.

"We have an appointment," I ventured, not wanting to infringe, without invitation, on this man's already cramped space.

He glanced at his watch, and his upper lip curled again. "Shit!" I guess he'd lost track of time.

"If you wish, we could re-schedule, and you can finish what you were working on. I understand what it's like to be on a roll and then be interrupted."

He humphed as he pushed the papers into a neutral-coloured folder.

"I'm already interrupted," he snapped, tossing the folder onto the nearest pile.

I pulled my research out of my rucksack and sat in the chair opposite his desk.

"I've found a subject who is willing to participate in my study. We've spoken on many occasions, and while you were on holiday, I took the initiative to do some initial tests. I've brought them for you to look over."

I handed him a folder of research, with slightly abridged information, that I had been doing on Remus. He took it and gave it a quick once over, while sitting casually back in his chair.

"Interesting," he replied. "What do you think your next move should be?" He actually sounded interested.

"The hospital that he's dealing with will not release any of his medical records, understandably." Understandably, I thought, you would never understand the information from St. Mungo's about this man's condition. "I would like to run an MRI to determine which part of the brain seems to be affected the most from his illness. I predict that this test will pinpoint the appropriate spot to focus on. I have considered several possibilities as to where the glitch, for lack of a better word, may lie. However, I need confirmation of my theory, and thus, authorization for the use of the machine." I looked hopefully in Kurtz's direction.

He pursed his thin, pale lips, and raised his eyes without raising his head. There was a moment of silence, and I could hear his rough breathing.

"I did a little research myself this summer," he began ominously. "I found out certain things that…surprised me." He jutted out his chin and brought his right hand to rest under it, his elbow on the arm of the chair. His glare was piercing. "I found out that a certain Masters student never did an undergraduate degree. This student had "apprenticed" somewhere and was given special admittance because of the work that they had done. No further details were given." He paused, watching for a reaction, but I sat very still, impassively glaring back. "Care to elaborate?" he coaxed menacingly.

"Exactly what do you want to know?" I asked seriously, not letting him bully me. I could tell him some things; enough to satisfy his curiosity, and maybe even get him to lighten up a bit and view me as a competent researcher.

"Tell me some of your past," he instructed.

My eyebrows rose, and a quirky smile played on my lips. Mischief was rising, and I couldn't stop it. "I could begin with, "and so I was born" but my story began even before that…" I smiled impishly at him. He was not impressed.

"Oh, alright," I rapidly thought of the quickest way to say what he needed to know in order to avoid any further questions. Taking a deep breath, I began, "My parents were killed when I was fifteen. A benefactor took me in, and I was privately tutored, managing to pass all required general education courses about a year before the required date. One of my tutors saw a propensity for sciences and encouraged that path. He was a …chemist. By the time I was twenty-one, I had completed an apprentice position in chemistry and pharmacology and was offered a job in a medical research facility in Rome. I worked in a lab for nearly two years dealing with upgrading existing medicines used in the local hospital. I had a desire to continue my formal education in medical research, and the organization that I worked for encouraged my studies. I was able to obtain a special admittance based on my education, apprenticeship and experience but did not want that information to taint or sway anyone's opinion or view, so I kept it quiet." I finished and looked him straight in the eyes. I could sense a mixture of awe and respect that he refused to show. I could also see him doing a quick mental math.

"You're only twenty-five?" he questioned in restrained surprise.

"Yes, this July just past," I answered.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

With another quick review of my research, the authorization was granted, although this time I had to make an appointment with the appropriate department at the hospital. No more sneaking in, and even though Professor Kurtz practically threw the authorization papers at me and sneered as he handed back my file, I left his office with the distinct impression that we were now on a different level with each other.