Thanks for the review, Filtercoffee (nice name, btw). Cheers!
Hello everyone, here is chapter twenty-four. Readers, please review. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All (well, most, anyway) characters are from J K Rowling's brilliant best-selling series.
Chapter Twenty-Five
"The only one who can fight the darkness within you – is you."
"Come on, hurry up!" Lily said excitedly to Liz as they walked towards the DADA classroom. "Professor Walcott hinted that she may start a new topic today, which means we're done with Dark Creatures – and I can't wait to find out what it is!"
"Will you calm down!" said Liz with exasperation. "It's just a class – not like Grant Anderson is coming," she added, panting slightly to keep up with her. Lily looked at her blankly, and Liz rolled her eyes. "He's the Captain of the England Quidditch team – never mind," she said quickly. "Blimey – I haven't seen you this excited about a class since – well, since about an hour ago, when we had Transfiguration," she quipped instead.
"Yeah, and we know how that went," replied Lily gloomily. Liz made a face; Lily was referring to lecture that she had received from Professor McGonagall after their Transfiguration class. Apparently, it hadn't yet leaked out to the rest of her classmates that she had received a warning from the Ministry for using magic outside of school, but Professor McGonagall knew; she spent fifteen minutes with Lily, telling her that she hadn't expected this from her, of all people, and that she hadn't been admitted into Hogwarts to break one of the most important rules of the magical world. Lily had felt worse than she had when Petunia had smashed her present against the wall. She still wasn't speaking to her sister, but she was almost back to normal with her parents.
"Ahh, come on – who cares?" said Liz dismissively. "Don't take it so much to heart, Lil – it's OK, it wasn't deliberate." Lily's mood lifted slightly at that, and she said, "I guess not." Liz punched her lightly on the arm and said, "Look at it this way – if it had been James or Black who had used magic instead of you, they'd be focusing on more important things – such as the rat that ran up your sister's neck, for instance." That brought a smile to Lily's face, and she laughed just as they reached the classroom. The Professor was already present, and two benches at the front were free, so Lily led a faintly protesting Liz to occupy those.
"Welcome back, class – I hope you all had a good Christmas," said Professor Walcott brightly, and Lily gave a tiny little snort as she remembered her own Christmas. "But now – it's time to get back into study and learn mode – after all, this is a school, and contrary to popular opinion, students actually do learn something here." The class laughed, and Professor Walcott smiled indulgently. "Right," she said, "We have two more Dark Creatures to cover – I know, I know, I'd told you all that we'd be moving on the Hexes and Curses after Christmas," she added, as most of the class let out wistful sighs, "But there remain a couple of Dark Creatures that we simply must cover – considering the environment of war outside, the Other Side may align themselves with these creatures in order to gain an advantage, and we must be prepared for all possibilities."
Lily looked at Liz sombrely; this wasn't how she'd envisioned starting off a new DADA class right after Christmas break. She wasn't the only one; the rest of the class seemed to be wearing solemn looks as well. Perhaps Professor Walcott seemed to realize the effect she'd created, because she said lightly, "No need to worry about that now – the best way to be prepared is to take action. Now – give me a show of hands – how many of you know what Dementors are?"
Lily raised her hand slowly – Severus had once explained to her what they were, but she couldn't remember much – except for the fact that they guarded the Wizard prison, Azkaban. She frowned as she tried to recall what they could do – didn't they suck out people's souls? She shuddered slightly at the thought.
"Good – it looks like about fifteen of you know what they are," said Professor Walcott. "Now – what about werewolves?" At that, nearly everyone raised their hands. "All right – it appears that Dementors are less well-known," said Professor Walcott briskly. "So we're going to start with Dementors today – then we'll do werewolves – and that'll be all! That's the end of Dark Creatures – we'll be moving on to Hexes and Curses after that." A murmur of excitement ran throughout the class.
"Right, let's get started," said Professor Walcott, a slight smile on her face. "Turn to page one-hundred-and-fifty-seven of your textbooks." Lily did as was instructed and came across a picture of a Dementor – a tall, hooded creature, with rotting arms and covered completely by a black cloak. Just looking at it made her feel a sense of foreboding.
"Right – so, Dementors," began Professor Walcott. "They're among the Darkest creatures in the world. Physically – a Dementor is twelve feet tall, and covered in a dark cloak. It's hooded, too – it remains hooded most of the time. Its body – its body is greyed and looks decayed – rather like a rotting corpse." She smiled sardonically. "It can fly – well, glide," she said. "It has no eyes – it's blind, see? But don't let that make you think you can escape it because it cannot see you. That's right – it has other ways to detect you. Nothing tangible, like smells, or movements, or your voice – but something abstract."
Her voice dropped to a whisper, and Lily leaned forward to catch her every word. "It can sense your presence by your emotions. Yes, that's right – your emotions. A Dementor doesn't need food to survive. It feeds on human happiness, joy, jubilation – just about anything positive, even good memories. And that's not all – it also feeds on light. Happiness, light and warmth – that is its food."
Wow, it sounds horrible, Lily thought, wincing slightly. The professor asked, "Now – based on what I have said so far – who can tell me what will happen when you get too close to a Dementor?" There was a pause, and Lily looked around; two hands were up in the air, Potter's and Remus's. "Yes, Mr Lupin – what do you think will happen?" asked Professor Walcott.
"Well – I think that happiness and all positive memories will be sucked out of you, leaving you in a state of despair and depression," said Remus, a little tentatively. Professor Walcott smiled and said, "That's right – ten points to Gryffindor. Well done, Mr Lupin – a good start. Any more effects anyone else can think of? How about you, Miss Evans?" said the Professor, suddenly turning to her.
She hazarded a guess. "Er – you said it feeds on light and warmth – so won't it get dark and cold?"
Professor Walcott smiled brightly. "Well done, Miss Evans – your mind works the right way," she said, and Lily glowed. "Ten points to Gryffindor – good girl," the Professor added, and Lily smiled widely; beside her, Liz rolled her eyes.
"As Miss Evans and Mr Lupin have kindly summarized – when you get too close to a Dementor, everything positive – be it a feeling or a memory – will be sucked out of you. It'll get cold, very cold indeed – and dark, too. The Dementor can't see you, but it can sense you – and that will be enough for it to attack you," she added grimly. She looked at her watch and said, "Now – we have about twenty-seven minutes, so I want you all to read the first three pages of the chapter on Dementors. Once everyone is done, I'll take questions – and then I'll demonstrate."
Lily exchanged a confused look with Liz; what did the professor mean when she said demonstrate? Was she going to bring a real Dementor to class? Liz shrugged slightly, and bent down to her textbook; Lily followed suit and began to read.
A few minutes later, when everyone had finished reading, Professor Walcott asked, "Well – any questions?" No one raised their hand, and the professor grinned. "Well – you lot seem to be a bright bunch," she said dryly, and everyone laughed. "Now – I'm going to demonstrate what happens when there's a Dementor attack – by a number of spells." Lily gave an audible sigh of relief, and the professor turned to her. "Oh, I'm not going to bring a real live Dementor to class, dear," she said, smiling, and Lily smiled back. "Don't worry – as long as Professor Dumbledore is Headmaster, no Dementor will enter this castle."
She raised her wand and said, "First, no lights. Umbrunda!" A jet of blackness shot out of her wand and spread over the classroom; within seconds, Lily couldn't even see her textbook in front of her. The darkness was all-consuming, and Lily groped to her right until she found Liz's hand; Liz seemed to be doing the same, and she squeezed her friend's hand reassuringly as she found it. "This is a useful little spell, everyone," came Professor Walcott's voice, "It sends out a wave of darkness – handy if you want to make a quick getaway."
This is rather like the Black Smoke Spell that Liz uses, thought Lily, as the professor said, "Next – cold. Frigidus Ventus!" An intense wave of cold swept over Lily, and she hugged her free hand closer to her chest. She was beginning to shiver. Wow – this is mad, she thought. Dementors are this bad?
"And finally – a Happiness-Draining Spell," said Professor Walcott. "This is a difficult spell to learn, and it's only temporary – doesn't last more than a minute, I believe – but it's going to be a long minute, so brace yourselves. Demissius!" And suddenly, without warning, Lily's head filled with terrible thoughts.
She was ten, and Petunia was telling tales on her and Severus to their parents – she was eleven, they were at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, and Petunia called her a freak and walked away – it was Christmas, and Liz was telling her about Mary being attacked – she was quarrelling with Petunia again – the Marauders were attacking Severus, and she was feeling bad that she'd thought Potter was actually a decent bloke, feeling bad at how he had almost managed to trick her as he'd supposedly pleaded with her to believe him – then it was Christmas again, and Petunia was throwing her present on the wall –
She could feel her eyes fill up with tears. The last part brought back more painful emotions – her inability to mend her relationship with her sister – how hard she'd tried, but how Petunia kept rejecting her efforts – how Petunia behaved with her, her sister's jealousy and hatred, and the fact that they would probably never bury the hatchet and remain forever separated –
Suddenly, the cold winds stopped. The torches were lit once again, and the room filled with warmth and light, as it had been before Professor Walcott's demonstration. She looked around the classroom, dimly aware of the fact that tears were running down her cheeks freely. Everyone looked discomfited: the faces in the classroom held a variety of emotions – people were looking sad and angry and uneasy, all at the same time… And yet, she saw Marlene, Mary and even Potter looking at her with concern.
Next to her, Liz was looking at her with mingled pity and comfort; her friend squeezed her hand reassuringly, and Lily knew at once that Liz understood why she was crying – Liz was the only one who knew what had transpired between her and Petunia in the recent past. But why was everyone else looking at her like that? She threw an inquiring sort of look at Liz, who seemed to read her mind, for she answered delicately, "You let out a sob, Lil – was it Petunia?"
She nodded slowly, turning to the front, and her eyes met Professor Walcott's brown-eyed gaze. The teacher had an extremely tender expression on her face, and her eyes never left Lily's own as she announced, "All right, everyone – that's all we have for today. Read up on Dementors – we'll be going into more detail next time. Class dismissed."
Quickly wiping her cheeks, Lily began to busily pack up her things. She didn't want any more people to realize that she'd been crying. She hadn't seen anyone else cry, though: not even Mary, who was the most sensitive of them all. So why had she been unable to control herself? Why had she gone to pieces like that? She felt bitterly ashamed of herself, and she avoided everyone's eyes as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
"One moment, Miss Evans – will you stay, please?"
Oh dear, she thought. I guess the professor wants me to tell her why I was crying…
"Do you have any more classes today, Miss Evans?" the professor asked her gently. She shook her head no, and the teacher said, "Good – come on, then…" She turned and began to limp slowly towards her office, beckoning to Lily to follow her. The rest of the class had already left, but Liz had lingered; Lily gestured to her best friend to go on ahead and Liz obeyed, albeit rather reluctantly. Sighing, Lily entered Professor Walcott's office.
"Sit down, Lily," the professor said kindly, and Lily sat, looking around. The office was bright, rather like Professor Walcott's personality, she thought. There was a trunk in the corner, and a little stove stood next to it. On top of a table on the other side of the trunk was a top-like object and a long probe. A mirror was mounted on the wall behind the trunk. Her gaze travelled from the cabinet, which contained potions bottles and ingredients, to the wall behind the professor, on which several pictures of a Quidditch team hung.
There was one picture on the table in front of her that caught her eye in particular. It was a picture of a remarkably handsome man standing right next to a radiant-looking Professor Walcott, who held a tiny, sleeping baby in her arms. That had to mean that the man in the picture could only be her husband, thought Lily, unable to take her gaze away from the smiling faces of Professor Walcott and the handsome man.
"So – what was it that made you so upset?" Professor Walcott asked Lily, as she placed a kettle on the little stove. Lily debated whether to tell the teacher or not, but Professor Walcott's kind face made the decision for her. She narrated in detail what had happened over Christmas, and she was in tears once again by the end of it. Wordlessly, Professor Walcott limped over to her and hugged her close; Lily let her tears flow freely as she clung to the teacher, feeling ashamed at making such a fool of herself, but unable to stop crying at the same time. Once she'd calmed down a bit, Professor Walcott pushed a cup of tea in her hand.
"There, there, dear – it's not your fault –" she said comfortingly. "It seems like your sister is being nasty to you on purpose, because she's jealous of your abilities – the best course of action would be to ignore her. There's no need to even try to be nice to a person who doesn't deserve it."
"But she's my sister!" Lily exclaimed. The professor smiled sadly once again.
"Sweetheart, blood may be thicker than water – but the relationship of being a sister needs to be earned; it shouldn't be in place by default. Your sister clearly has some problems with you, but no good will come out of you trying so hard to make things right if she doesn't want to. You've done enough. The Quaffle is in her side of the pitch now – so if she wants to mend fences, let her try. Let her be the one to take the first step. You don't have to go to her and get your self-respect blown to pieces."
There was a pause as Lily drunk all of this in. The teacher was right, she realized… She didn't have to feel bad about what happened – if anyone should feel bad, it was Petunia. My conscience is clear, Lily thought strongly to herself as she sipped her tea. She realized that she'd been more upset that she'd let on – and the Happiness-Draining Spell had brought all that emotion to the surface once again. And yet – she felt lighter than before, after talking to Professor Walcott. She smiled a genuine smile, and the Professor grinned back at her. "Feeling better?" she asked.
"Yes, loads better, Professor," she said cheerfully. "Thank you," she added sincerely.
"No problem," said Professor Walcott warmly. "Happy to help..."
Lily's eyes travelled to the photo of the teacher's family. They all look so happy, she thought. So happy...
"Yeah, that's my family," said Professor Walcott, evidently following Lily's gaze, and Lily turned to her quickly. The teacher was looking at her steadily, and Lily couldn't quite understand the expression in her doe-soft eyes, which were surprisingly hard. "But one must never go by pictures – quite often, photos and pictures lie." Her voice was uncharacteristically harsh, and Lily wondered why it was so. Something wasn't right – indeed, the teacher's beautiful face was no longer sunny, but instead, filled with intense emotion...
"Er – if you don't mind me asking, Professor – why is it that you have to walk with a limp?" Lily asked softly and curiously. Professor Walcott's features darkened, and Lily immediately regretted asking her that question; but the teacher replied, suddenly sounding tired, "They – the people who captured me last year – they wanted information. They wanted to know what we knew – how we were tracing their movements, how we were tracking them down – who was in charge what operations – all of that. I refused to talk, and they tortured me – they used Dementors, and when that didn't break me, they resorted to a number of Spells, one of which involved a Rotting Curse on my ankle." Lily winced, and the professor continued, "That spell causes your muscles to rot painfully… It was hell, but I somehow got through it… When I was rescued, the Curse was contained – but the damage to my ankle was permanent, and the best the Healers at St Mungo's could do was to fix it enough to let me walk – but it deprives me from making any quick movements. I'm still hopeful of going back to being an Auror, though," she added, sighing.
Lily nodded solemnly. She could see how difficult it would be, to limp around all the time... But there was something else bothering her. "Er – Professor?" she asked tentatively. "Er – what did you mean when you said that photos – er, lie?" Professor Walcott's features hardened, and Lily wondered fretfully if she would be told off for her impertinence... But there was a moment's pause, and the teacher burst into speech.
"That's my husband – David," she said heavily, pointing to the handsome man in the photograph, "Or Dave, as I called him – when we both went to Hogwarts. And that's my son, Nicholas – Nick for short. I loved them both so much..."
Lily drew in a sharp breath. Not daring to hear the answer, she whispered, "I don't understand, professor."
Professor Walcott sighed. "What I mean, sweetie – is that we all seem so happy in that photo. But the truth is a lot different – you see, Dave – Dave was with me that night, at that raid – when I was captured," she said, her voice soft – yet still, steady. "And he – he didn't make it."
"I'm sorry," Lily whispered, her voice tight. Professor Walcott smiled sadly. "I'm sorry too – I still wish I could have saved him, but I couldn't. I couldn't..." Lily felt nothing but sympathy. Petunia and her nastiness seemed to be miles away... She wondered if she should say something, but the teacher continued, "And that wasn't even the worst of it... You see, with Dave gone, I was filled with anger and determination – I couldn't let them break me, see? I remained strong, I resisted them – but my stubbornness, that was probably a big mistake. They took Nick, Lily," she whispered, her expression taut. "They took him, they tortured him in order to break me. And then – when I still wouldn't give them what they wanted – they killed him. My baby – my only son..."
Lily could feel hot tears in her eyes again. Professor Walcott is so nice, she thought... She didn't deserve this... She wondered how difficult it must be for her – one moment, to be so happy, with a husband and a son – only to have it all snatched away from you. It is a wonder how she still has the will to live, she thought with admiration as she looked directly at the teacher, whose eyes were full of tears, too. It seemed that she had let Lily take a glimpse behind the happy facade that was visible to everyone else, hiding the pain underneath... Aloud, she said, "I'm so sorry, Professor – I'm so sorry…"
"That is what I feel and hear every time a Dementor gets close to me – it is what I heard for most of last year, when I was taken," Professor Walcott said softly, and Lily drew in a sharp breath. "I'm sorry," she said again, "I didn't mean to bring up all the terrible stuff that happened, Professor..." But the teacher waved off her apology. "Look, sweetheart," she continued, "Loss doesn't go away. I don't think it ever will. But taking action helps with the pain. And so long as I teach you all – I am happy. Dave and Nick wouldn't want me to hide away – they'd have wanted me to move on, to get on with my own life – and that, that gives me the strength to continue, to live – to take each day as it comes, and to be happy."
There was a pause as Lily sat there, listening. Professor Walcott's beautiful face was sad, but her eyes were doe-soft once again. I don't think she's much talked about this, thought Lily. That is why she said a lot… The professor was speaking again. "That's why this job interests me," she said, somewhat strongly, "It allows me to interact with children, with teenagers, and help them with their problems..."
"But my problems are nothing compared to what you have to hear when you're next to a Dementor, Professor," said Lily piteously. The Professor smiled grimly. "Well – to each their own, I guess." There was another pause, and Lily debated whether to ask the Professor anything more. She decided that she wouldn't; this much was enough for one day.
As if to bring the conversation to where it had been before, the professor said sombrely, "Dementors are amongst the foulest creatures in the world, Lily. Wherever they go, they bring despair and darkness, so you'd best steer clear of them…" Lily looked up. "Aren't there any ways to defend against them, then?" she asked fretfully.
The Professor grinned slightly and said, "Of course there are… But think of it like this. All the effects of Dementors – the darkness, the depression, the despair that is within you, that they bring to the surface – the only one who can fight those, is you. No one else can fight your pain, but you – you can. And that is why, to defeat these vile creatures, you need to be strong. Strength of mind, strength of emotion – these things drive Dememtors away."
Lily took all of this in solemnly. "But Professor," she said earnestly, "Aren't there any – er, tangible ways to fight Dementors?" Professor Walcott smiled at that and said, "Very good, dear – of course there are tangible ways, no doubt – but that's the next lesson."
Lily understood the dismissal and stood up. "Thank you for the tea and advice, Professor," she said, and Professor Walcott smiled too. "You're welcome, sweetie," she said kindly. "I don't want one of my best students to get upset over something so trivial – so don't give your sister any more attention she deserves, OK? I can understand, and I can relate – I know what exposure to Dementors feels like," she added, her eyes narrowing slightly.
Lily nodded solemnly and exited the office, her thoughts still on the teacher's tale. She couldn't wait to find Liz and tell her this – it was a harrowing tale, and her respect for the professor increased exponentially. She seemed to be a most brave person…
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Nothing of note happened in the next few days, unless one counted Lily keeping her distance from Severus. They communicated via letters, just like they had during the holidays; Lily felt bad for Severus, who was still being cold-shouldered by Mulciber, although Avery and Rosier were still friendly with him. She didn't think much of Mulciber, though; just looking at him made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was something creepy about him.
The girls had also forced Marlene to stand down, when she'd voiced her inclination towards confronting Remus. She was growing more and more obsessed with Remus being the culprit, or at the very least, knowing something. Nothing the other girls said would make any difference to her, until they finally agreed to follow him in order to actually see where he went the next time he was going home.
"I don't think all of us should follow him," said Liz practically. It was fifty-six days since the last attack back in November. "According to the pattern, there should be an attack today – so we need to be alert. We cannot let him out of our sight," said Marlene, with feeling. "It's not Remus, Marlene – and today we'll understand it once and for all!" said Lily, feeling a little exasperated. Marlene could be curiously stubborn and one-track-minded at times.
"Yes – we will," said Marlene firmly. They were all seated in the common room, to wait for Remus in order to follow him. "He looked so odd in class today – when we were discussing werewolves, in DADA – it's like he knows that someone's going to get attacked tonight. He may even be doing it himself –"
"What rubbish!" Lily exclaimed.
"How did he get all scratched up, then?" countered Marlene.
"It was the dog!"
"Or so he says..."
"I believe him – he's my friend."
"He could be lying –"
"All right – enough," said Liz firmly, and Lily and Marlene stopped talking at once. "We'll find out tonight – once and for all. Now, who is going to follow him? Only one of us should – he's not so blind as to not notice everyone following him –"
"I'll do it," volunteered Lily. "I'd love a chance to vindicate him."
Mary, who had been sitting silently all this while, spoke up. "No, Lil – if someone's going to get attacked tonight, you'll be an easy target!"
"I appreciate your concern, Mary," said Lily bullishly, "But I can take care of myself."
"Mary has a point," conceded Liz.
"Fine!" said Lily, irritated. "Toss a coin, then – one who wins most tosses gets to go!"
"Fair enough," said Marlene, and produced a Galleon from her pocket. "Serial number versus blank – call it!" She tossed the coin. "Number!" shouted Lily, and to her relief, the coin landed with the number facing upwards. "Ha!" said Lily triumphantly, and Marlene made a face. "Fine – I'm out. Now let's toss between Liz and Mary. Call it!" She tossed the coin in the air once again.
"Number!" called Mary, but this time the coin landed with its blank side up. "It's between you two now," said Marlene. "Call it!" She tossed the coin for a third time, just as Liz called, "Blank!" But once again, the coin landed with the numbered side facing upwards. Grinning, Lily said dryly, "Well, at least the coin believes that I can take care of myself."
Rolling her eyes, Liz said, "But still – be careful."
"Don't worry – I will," said Lily reassuringly, just as Remus came down the stairs, a bag slung over his shoulders. He waved half-heartedly at them, and they waved back; he exited the common room, walking slowly. Lily noted that he looked ill and tired himself.
"Give him a half-minute head start," suggested Marlene, and Lily nodded. About half a minute later, she waved at her friends, and climbed out of the portrait hole. She started off in the general direction of Dumbledore's office; after all, that was the place Remus said he went to in order to travel home quickly.
Pretty soon, she spied him walking just as slowly as before. She wondered why he was shuffling like that – he was an energetic person, and this sort of walk didn't suit him. It's odd, she thought as she stealthily followed him. It was only about four o'clock in the afternoon, but the sky had started to darken steadily; pretty soon, it would be pitch-black. There were no clouds, though – that means it probably won't snow tonight, thought Lily.
Ahead of her, Remus turned a corner. She followed him, and was surprised to see that he was walking in the direction of the Hospital Wing, and not Dumbledore's office. That's odd, she thought... Where is he going? Her confusion increased as he reached the Hospital Wing and entered; why was he going there? Did he mean to use that fireplace? But why?
Lily didn't enter the Hospital Wing corridor; she stayed around the corner. She debated to herself whether or not she should enter the Hospital Wing; she decided against it. Maybe I'll wait here for about ten minutes – then I'll enter to see where he is, if he doesn't come out, she thought.
But she didn't have to wait that long, for Remus came out in five minutes. What was more astonishing was the fact that Madam Whitney was with him. Lily fled as they approached, and turned another corner in order to hide, but to her relief, they didn't come her way. Her confusion mounting, she followed them stealthily once again, hoping that they wouldn't hear her. The castle was deserted, and she supposed that everyone was staying inside their common rooms, near the warmth of the fire. She was starting to wish that she were there, too… But she ploughed on behind her quarry.
She initially thought that they were headed for Dumbledore's office, but they walked in the opposite direction... She followed them, still confused, as they made for the Entrance Hall gates. Madam Whitney opened the gates, and walked out, with Remus trailing weakly after her. Lily decided against following them; she simply climbed a floor and found a window that offered her a view of the grounds. She spied two figures walking away from the castle, towards the Whomping Willow; they were unmistakeably Madam Whitney and Remus.
Questions exploded in Lily's head like fire-crackers. Where were they going? Why were they being secretive? And how would they get so close to the Whomping Willow? Shouldn't it hit anyone that goes close to it? Just as she thought that, the Whomping Willow seemed to freeze, as if by magic (which it probably is, thought Lily dryly). Remus and Madam Whitney seemed to be descending into the tree, for they vanished from view… She sat herself down on the window-sill and waited.
Lily was puzzled. What in the world was going on here? She took a deep breath and began to organize her thoughts. What did she know so far? One, Remus supposedly went home once every month, but based on that day's events, she wasn't so sure anymore. Apparently he'd been in school the whole time, under the – the Whomping Willow, of all things… Well, that seemed to explain why he was lying in the Hospital Wing where Liz had seen him, when he was supposed to be home…
Lily frowned as she thought. Two, he himself looked ill every time he has to go home. Could that possibly mean that Remus – Remus had the illness he'd told her his mother suffered from? She shuddered. That is so sad, she thought… But then, it couldn't be – he seemed to be so fit overall, save those two-three days every month – Nah, that can't be it, she thought. He must be suffering from something else…
She looked outside the window. The sky was pitch-black now, and the moon had just risen in the west. It was a full moon night; due to the snowfall that had been taking place recently, Lily realized that she was probably seeing the moon itself for the first time in about a fortnight. It looks familiar, she thought… It looks like something I've seen in the DADA classroom –
All of a sudden, she felt an adrenaline rush. She understood what the full moon looked like – it looks like Remus's boggart, she thought excitedly. But why would he be scared of the moon? It was so harmless – and so far away – so why?
Unless, she thought – unless the moon affects him in an adverse way! She remembered that day's lesson on werewolves. What had Professor Walcott said? Werewolves need the moon to transform – moonlight from the full moon causes them to change from their human form to their wolf form, and become dangerous – so that had to mean –
Lily's breath caught in her chest. No, that couldn't possibly be it. Remus – a werewolf? Preposterous. She didn't know much about them, but she'd paid attention in that day's class… A werewolf is a danger only to people, she recalled Professor Walcott saying. So how in the world would Dumbledore have allowed Remus to attend Hogwarts? That's proof enough – Remus isn't a – a werewolf, of all things – he was her friend – her friend who she set out to exonerate today –
But a niggling doubt came to her. She had pieced the pattern of the attacks to every twenty-eight or twenty-nine days. She frowned, thinking to herself, looking at the full moon outside… How long does a lunar cycle last? About twenty-eight or twenty-nine days, isn't it? Oh God – this means that Remus is –
Her heart hammering, she stood up. She was confused, excited, and a little scared at the same time… Remus's boggart is the moon, she thought. He claims to go home every month, or more precisely, every twenty-eight or twenty-nine days… And based on today's full moon, it's obvious that he goes to the Whomping Willow, to whatever place that lies beneath it every month – to transform?
Her thoughts went to the Whomping Willow. It had been a small tree when she'd arrived at Hogwarts, but it was now colossal; had it been planted to keep people from running into Remus – when he was dangerous? That explains his scratched-up hands, she realized suddenly. Yeah, he must have done that to himself…
She still couldn't believe it – but it all fit, and her reasoning was sound. There was no getting around it – one of her friends was a werewolf. She sat back down and held her head in her hands. Poor boy, she thought… Existence in such a form, constantly living in fear that someone would discover your secret, and thereby shun you from themselves… Her heart ached with sympathy and sadness. She understood him better now… That's probably why a decent boy like him hangs around with idiots and pranksters such as the Marauders, she thought… He just wants to be included, and try to experience what a normal life can be…
A sudden thought came to her. Did the other Marauders know? She remembered their last Hogsmeade weekend, when Potter and the rest had exchanged odd looks when she'd mentioned that Remus wasn't with them. Had they figured it out then itself? They must know, she thought firmly. They would have figured it out, too… And yet, they hadn't shunned him. They still treated him the same, as far as she could see…
She stood up. She couldn't tell anyone what she had deduced… It wasn't her secret to tell, it was Remus's… He would tell people when he felt like it. Perhaps she could tell him that she knew, and then he would really open up to her. She understood why he hadn't told anyone – he was afraid of the treatment he would get once people knew. She found it odd that he thought this way. Why would anyone who knew what kind of person he was, shun him if they found out about his – his problem? But then again, she could see that not everyone would be as considerate and accommodating as herself – indeed, most Wizarding children were probably prejudiced against werewolves… She felt new respect for Potter, Black and Peter. They were still friends with Remus. They hadn't done what most other people would've done without batting an eyelid… Well, I guess they are decent blokes after all, she conceded grudgingly.
A sudden movement in the grounds below caught her eye. She could see Madam Whitney hurrying back to the Entrance Hall gates. Lily sprinted towards the stairs; if Madam Whitney went to Dumbledore's office to inform him that Remus was safely under the Whomping Willow, that would certainly confirm her theory… She descended the steps slowly, and caught sight of Madam Whitney just as she began to ascend another flight of steps. Stealthily, Lily followed her… But something was off. This wasn't the path to Dumbledore's office…
It seems to be a day of strange goings-on, thought Lily. Remus under the Whomping Willow – and now Madam Whitney sneaking off somewhere – what is going on here? Based on the flight of steps she'd ascended, she ought to be on the fifth floor by now… She struggled to stay silent, but Madam Whitney hurried on, apparently oblivious to the fact that she was being followed. She turned a corner to another fifth floor corridor.
Lily waited for half a minute before turning around the corner herself – and stopped dead in her tracks. There was no one in the corridor ahead of her. It looked like a dead end, too – so where had Madam Whitney gone? Oh no, this is like Malfoy all over again, she thought, frustrated – until it hit her –
Wait, what if it is exactly like Malfoy? What if there is a secret passage here, too? Fabian did hint that there were multiple passages out of school – so is this one of them? She began to examine the portraits. "Bowman Wright," she read softly. "Uric the Oddball… Elladora Ketteridge… Gregory the Smarmy… Roderick Plumpton…"
She sighed. Was the passage behind one of these portraits? She remembered the incantation Potter had used, nearly two years ago, for opening the passage… Offengang, wasn't it? Yes, that was it… She raised her wand, tapped the portrait of Bowman Wright, and whispered, "Offengang!"
Nothing happened; no secret passage opened up behind the portrait. She shrugged and decided to try the next portrait. Just as she was about to tap it, however, she heard a set of footsteps.
Quickly, she turned around at the place she had entered the corridor from, but no one was there. She waited fretfully, her wand hand steady, but no one came… She was starting to regret her carelessness. Why hadn't she just returned to the common room? No one knew where she was…
She heard footsteps behind her, and swirled around. To her horror, she didn't see anyone, but the dead end that she'd originally thought a wall was not a wall anymore… Nay, it looked like a passage, a dark tunnel, rather like a gaping mouth. Had that been where Madam Whitney had gone? And who was making the noise from the footsteps?
And then, before her very eyes, a figure materialized. It was clad head to foot in a black robe, and it had a hood, too… For one wild moment Lily thought that it was a Dementor, but the torches were still ablaze (albeit dimly) and there was no change in temperature… And besides, to her horror, the figure drew a wand and pointed it directly at her.
"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked the figure bravely, her wand pointed at it, too. The other person did not reply; she couldn't even see its eyes. With a terrible blast of realization, she understood: this person was probably the one attacking Muggleborns, and she was a sitting duck.
Well, if I'm going to be attacked anyway, I must attack too – and it best be sooner rather than later, or else they'll get me, she thought bravely. She raised her wand and shouted, "Impedi –"
But there was a blinding flash of purple before she could get the words out, and something hit her on her thigh. She went down to her knees, clutching her leg and letting out a scream of pain – she struggled to stay conscious but it was too difficult… The world swirled around her, and she never saw the hooded figure make its getaway as everything went black.
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