Enjoy! Not sure when I'll have the next one up, but they're short, so it might be soon!
Chapter 52: How Could I Ever Forget?
When she awoke Monday morning, Lena felt much better and more well rested than she had the day before. Or the week before that, for that matter. Roger was sitting on the window seat absorbed in an old book.
"Don't tell me you've been up all night reading that."
"No," Roger said, chuckling. He looked relieved to find her, at least for the moment, in a good mood.
Lena got up and went to sit beside him. She looked over at the book, squinting to make out the title.
"The Aurora Consurgens?" Lena asked, looking at the cover. "What's that?"
"The Rising of the Dawn. It's an alchemical manuscript written in the fifteenth century," Roger explained. He would no doubt have gone on at length, had Lena not interrupted.
"You took alchemy?"
"No, there wasn't enough demand." Lena fought to keep a straight face at his sulky expression "But I've always wanted to study it. It took quite a while to find this."
"I bet it did. It's beautiful," she said.
"You should see the pictures." Roger reached over and turned the pages.
The first illustration was that of a woman in a cloak, blue on the outside, green on the inside, which she held protectively over seven figures in robes of varying shades of blue, red, purple and yellow.
"She's the moon, which represents silver. The smaller figures are copper, mercury, gold, lead, tin, iron and silver," Roger said, pointing at each of the small, robed figures.
She went to the next illustration. Two knights were engaged in combat. The figure on the left, clad in blue armour, with a sun for a head, was mounted on a lion. His black shield was emblazoned with three crescent moons. His opponent rode a winged griffin, whose front half was a blue eagle and back half a lion.
Lena frowned.
"You expected them to move, didn't you?" Roger asked, laughing.
"Yes," she said, avoiding his gaze. "But they seem more alive than the Muggle version, I expect."
She turned the page, half-expecting to see an illustration of a badger, a snake, a lion and an eagle. But there wasn't one. She flicked through the pages stopping at an illustration that appeared to be a teacher in blue robes with several students.
"This hasn't got anything to do with the Founders does it?" she asked, looking up.
"No, not at all."
Lena turned back the pages to look at some of the illustrations she had missed and nearly dropped the book when she came upon an illustration of a dead dragon. Hastily she flipped through several more pages. This time a serpent hovered over the bodies of a man and a woman.
"I think that's enough of that," Roger said, eyeing her with trepidation as he took the book from her hands.
"I assume you can read this?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
"No, actually. Hogwarts isn't big on teaching us Latin. They should. Thank goodness for Translation Spells."
Arti slipped up beside Greengrass as everyone went to breakfast.
"Bulstrode talked to me last night."
"I heard," Greengrass said, nodding. "I suppose she was trying to undo the damage Parkinson had done?"
Arti nodded. "And I er, might have convinced her to…" She trailed off, fidgeting with her sleeves.
"Try her luck again with me?" Arti nodded, biting her lip. Greengrass sighed. "It wasn't your fault. She'd do so in any case, especially now."
"And Nott too."
"Of course." She turned to Arti, a gleam in her eye. "Shall we play them at their game then?"
"With pleasure."
Down the hall, Zach began to cry. Lena turned away from the door, wanting to drown out the sound.
"Zach?" asked Roger. She nodded. "I'll go check on him. Unless you want to."
"No, you go," she said, more sharply than she had intended.
Roger gave her a piercing look. "You rest," he said as he headed for the door.
Lena sat in silence for a few moments, trying not to let the images and sounds of that day from coming back. But of course it was no use; try as she might, she couldn't keep them at bay.
Her eyes darted around as she tried to find some distraction. They fell on Roger's alchemy book. She picked it up and began looking through the pages. She took a minute to look over the illustrations again before turning her attention to the text.
"Reddo verto," she said, waving her wand over the book in an intricate pattern that resembled the outline of a boot.
The letters began to change and rearrange themselves on the page. Her first two attempts were nonsense. Finally, on her third try, the spell worked. Or so she assumed since she could understand the text.
She skimmed through several pages, until one particular passage toward the end of the book caught her eye.
Be turned to me with all your heart and do not cast me aside because I am black and shadowed, because the sun hath changed my colour and the waters hath covered my face and the earth hath been polluted and defiled in my works. ..
It was as though someone had written this especially for her and it didn't seem like a coincidence that Roger would be reading it here and now. Her hands shook and she tightened her grip as the book began to slide toward the floor.
The door opened and Roger entered, pulling Lena out of her thoughts. He glanced between Lena and the book and sighed heavily.
She looked up. "Will I never be free of this?"
Like most people, Arti hated Mondays. But this Monday was particularly dreadful. The Slytherins sensed the shift between Arti and Greengrass. Most of the House was disgusted and outraged with both of them – Arti assumed they thought that Greengrass had convinced Arti of the error of her ways – and her chat with Bulstrode had certainly not helped matters. She wanted to protest, to shout her innocence, reasoned that the disgust the others were feeling toward her was a small price to pay for making Parkinson and the others look like fools.
It was like when Nott had convinced the House to shun Dursley; they all ignored her and kept a wide berth at mealtimes. Her apparently closeness to Greengrass wasn't helping matters, though everyone seemed less hostile than they would have been ahd Arti begun to show signs of becoming friendly with the likes of Parkinson or Bulstrode.
Arti had forgotten what it was like to feel so alone. It was as though the last two years of being friendly with the DA had erased her memories of the first four years of being in Slytherin and desperately trying, but never quite managing, to fit in.
How had Lena survived when most of the House – herself included, she thought bitterly – had scorned her for publicly siding with Harry against Voldemort? Not, Arti realised now, that most of them had had cause to do so, since they too, opposed him. How had Adrian managed his first year alone? She had asked him that once, years ago.
"Honestly?" he had said. "Knowing Lena and then you'd come along, or so I assumed. 'Sides, we were eleven years old, we couldn't do much to each other yet. All we were doing was parroting our parents' beliefs. It's more powerful when they start to believe it themselves. Not that it took them too long to start doing that."
He had been right. But she, Lena, Adrian and so many others had worked hard to change that over the last two years. And now in one night, it had all come undone…
Arti was almost glad that only Elayne was left of those who knew her well. She hated the thought of having more friends looking at her as though she was the worst person in the world. Of course, if Graham were still alive, she wouldn't be in this predicament. If Graham hadn't died, Lena wouldn't have done what she had, and Arti wouldn't hate her so much and the House wouldn't hate her for what they thought she was doing and she wouldn't feel so empty and alone.
Everyone was whispering and staring at Greengrass as she sat down at the Slytherin table for breakfast. The news of what had happened on Sunday afternoon had finally circulated around Hogwarts. No one knew what she had said to Lena, so everyone naturally invented the conversation. Some of them even believed that Greengrass had hurt her, badly enough to end up in St. Mungo's.
Arti was rather taken aback at the rumour - apparently started by a group of foolish, romantic Ravenclaw girls - that Greengrass had liked Graham and had hoped to marry him and now blamed Lena for his death. There was, of course, a grain of truth to this, and indeed, some students seemed to have picked up on it and were giving Greengrass dark looks. Others seemed to be in agreement with her – indeed were almost giddy with excitement – though luckily kept this opinion to themselves, at least in the presence of those who would disagree.
There was also rampant speculation regarding the cause of the general rift within Slytherin, for of course as much as they tried to hide it, had inevitably been noticed. Some students were speculating darkly that this would be a repeat of what had happened when Slytherin had departed a thousand years ago and wondering if it would bring about the final destruction of Hogwarts.
Roger took the book from her and set it out of her reach, sitting down beside her on the bed. He started to put his arms around her, but she pulled away.
"I shouldn't have brought it with me. And no, my having it here was entirely a coincidence. It's not about what you think," he said gently.
"What's it about then?"
He hesitated as though trying to find the right words. "It's about redeeming the soul," he said slowly. "The lovers are reunited as the man's soul is cleansed and reunited with the body."
He reached out and turned the page.
Therefore will I arise and go into the city, seeking in the streets and broad ways a pure virgin to espouse, comely in face, more comely in body, most comely in her garments, that she may roll back the stone from the door of my sepulcher…
"See? It's she who saves him."
Lena looked away. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I don't think I qualify. I wasn't pure in any sense when I met you and I've become even less so since then."
"Well I wasn't exactly-"
"Oh, I'm not talking about that," she said rolling her eyes at Roger's grin. "I mean, yes, mostly that's what this"- she jabbed at the book -"is referring to, but I've done things, terrible things." He started to open his mouth but stopped at the look on her face. "You're not the one who needs saving," she said softly. "Maybe you can save me, if it's not too late."
"After Cedric died," Roger said, "I was angry at both of them for a long time. Why did Harry have to offer him the Cup? Why didn't Cedric at least try to go – with or without Harry, though of course Cedric wouldn't have left him behind – and why did it have to be Cedric who died instead of him?"
"At least Cedric's death wasn't your fault!"
"Neither was Graham's! No one blames you–"
"Don't they?" she asked, nodding toward Arti's room.
Roger grimaced. "She doesn't blame you about Graham. She doesn't think that was your fault. She's just angry at you about… you know. And, well, Greengrass is an idiot, don't pay any attention to her."
"She was right though."
He knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. His tone was softer when he spoke again. "The people who matter, Maya and Graham's parents, yours, mine, Elayne, Matt, Blaise, the first Pride, the teachers, they don't blame you. I wish you could believe that."
The former inhabitants of the cave behind the waterfall had scattered when they returned to their home and found it in disarray. Many unknown scents had greeted them, but their alpha and the Death Eaters who had been there when they had left were nowhere to be found. None of them had wanted to stay long enough to find out what had become of them. Presumably they had been captured by the Ministry. No one wanted to be next.
They fled the cave that had been their home, into the woods beyond. Immediately the older werewolves began to fight for control of the pack. The newer, mostly younger werewolves – many of them Muggles – looked on anxiously. It had been a brutal existence under their former alpha, and the one before him. They hoped that their new alpha would be less savage, toward them, at least.
By the end of the night, the bloody battle had finished, leaving one victorious alpha, who, like his predecessors, had a fondness for Muggle children. Giles Carrier looked around at his pack, daring anyone to challenge him. None did.
There was much to do. The next full moon was only days away. They would need to find some permanent shelter to house the Muggles they would be bringing into their pack. Carrier sent out some of the more seasoned ones, along with his trusted "children" though he kept a few here for protection. They might not be fool enough to challenge him outright, but there was still resentment simmering. He comforted himself with the knowledge that it had been those outside the Pack who had ridden them of their last two alphas. But one could never be too cautious.
Roger had disappeared presumably to talk to Adrian and returned as Lena was finishing lunch. To Lena's surprise, Maya followed behind him.
"Look who's here," Roger said cheerfully.
Maya smiled at her. "It's not the same without you at Hogwarts. Things are very quiet. I–"
But Lena wasn't listening. Though she knew the Maya before her was human, all she could see and hear was the Maya from her nightmares, her disfigured face and her accusing screams. She gripped the sides of her tray, trying to breathe deeply, but all it did was increase her anxiety to smell Maya and the faint scent of the werewolf.
Maya broke off, watching Lena in alarm. "I'll–I'll come back later," she said, scrambling out of the room.
Lena didn't realise she was shaking until the dishes on the tray on her lap began to rattle. Tea sloshed out of the cup and the food slid from the plate. The sight made her stomach heave as it reminded her of the werewolf's magled, disintegrating corpse covered in the Universal Solvent. She moaned, clapping her hand to her mouth.
Roger swiftly moved the tray out of the way before picking her up. Carrying her into the bathroom, he set her down gently in front of the toilet. He held her hair out of the way, rubbing her back as she threw up. Her head spun.
Lena rinsed her mouth out with the glass of water Roger handed her, then leaned against the bathtub waiting for the nausea to subside. When it did, she reached up to flush the toilet, her hands shaking.
Roger carried her back to her room and settled her back into bed. Father came hurrying in a minute later as she sat staring at her hands clutched around her wand and her potion piece.
"They say people with dragon heartstring cores are more likely to use Dark magic, that they're turn Dark more easily..."
"You're not turning Dark–"
"How am I not? I used an Unforgivable!"
"Once. I'm sure many on our side have done so. I would have too. Besides, Crouch let Aurors use Unforgivables during the First War. Does that make them evil or Dark?"
Lena ignored him, her eyes still fixed on her hands.
"They teach you about taking lives. They teach you how to do it, albeit in a rather abstract sense, because of course they don't want you to, but they don't teach you about the aftermath. They don't tell you how everyone with treat you or how to deal with yourself. They don't teach you about fighting monsters and they certainly don't teach you about how not to become the monsters you're fighting."
"Lena..." Roger said, both he and Father looked at her, their expressions anguished.
"Don't," she said, her voice high and tight. "Don't. Please. Just leave me alone. Please."
She hated that she sounded like a scared little girl.
They turned and walked away, shoulders slumped, glancing back at her as the door closed behind them.
She lay watching flickering lamplight create eerie shadows on the wall, a line of grotesque figures dancing around the room. They reminded her of the pictures of Death in The Tale of the Three Brothers.
The wind blew through the trees. Murderer, murderer it seemed to whisper. After a few minutes during which her room had begun to feel oppressive, Lena picked up the vial of Dreamless Sleep her mother had left on her bedside table. She gulped down the contents and fell back onto her pillow. The vial fell from her lax hand onto the floor and rolled across the room.
Maya returned to Hogwarts shaken. Lindz was bent over her Astronomy textbook in preparation for her O.W.L the next day, and Dean had his Divination textbook open, but she could tell he was only pretending to read. She sank into the unoccupied chair.
"I take it it didn't go well?" he asked, looking up from his book and eagerly putting it aside.
"No. I don't think I should see her for a while."
"Was it you or, you know…?" Lindz asked.
"I think the latter. I hope. How's your revision going?"
"Badly, but I don't care."
"No, I wouldn't either. And I certainly don't care about my Herbology N.E.W.T., we've got more important things to worry about. Besides, you don't need to pass your N.E.W.T.s to join the Red Shepherds."
Lena blinked awake, trying not to groan when she realised she wasn't alone. She kept her eyes closed for a minute before she felt ready to face Roger. She was irritated that he was back again, though she supposed it was inevitable. She was glad it was just Roger. It was almost too much with him alone, more people would have been unbearable.
"I'm a curse on their family." She roughly dried her eyes with the sleeve of her nightgown.
"Don't say that! Of course you aren't!"
"Why not? Look at what happened to Maya! If she hadn't sacrificed herself for me when–"
"We've been over this." There was a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.
She went on as though he hadn't spoken. "And now Graham is dead because of me. Why does everyone else have to suffer for what I've done?"
"Haven't you suffered enough? This is a war. Some of us are bound to die. And if it wasn't to rescue Zach, it would be something else."
"How can you say that? Graham shouldn't even have been with us! He shouldn't have been involved in any of this! He was too young to be involved in a war!"
"He had no choice after the Death Eaters made that decision for him when they took him last year."
"How can you be so callous?!" She jumped out of bed and stood gaping at him. "A thirteen-year-old boy is dead and we could have prevented it!"
"Fine, you want to know how I can be?" he asked roughly.
"Yes, I do," she said quietly.
"Because I'm glad it was him and not you or Zach!" he cried, his voice ragged. There was a sheen of sweat on his face. "I–" His voice broke and it took him several moments to continue. "I couldn't live without you." He swallowed several times, groping his way toward her and putting his arms around her. "So I'm glad it was someone else," he said, without meeting her eyes. "I'm glad it wasn't Maya either, because that would have destroyed you. And where would that leave me – us?"
He stood gazing at her as tears slid down his cheeks. His words stopped her cold. The silence that followed was almost painful.
She stared at him, numb with disbelief. She almost started crying with relief that he had voiced what she could not. He was right. As much as she hated to admit it, Maya's death would have been much worse.
"You–you're glad it wasn't Maya too?" she whispered. The rush of relief made her lightheaded.
"Yes."
Then she realised what they were saying and horror flooded her and she pushed herself away from him. "Well he shouldn't have died! It should have been me!"
"No–"
"He shouldn't have had to die," she whispered. "And now..."
Roger caught her in his arms as she started to sway.
Greengrass joined Arti at one of the tables in the corner of the common room after breakfast, several books and a partially-filled roll of parchment in hand. Bulstrode was scowling at them, but both ignored her.
"Things are certainly getting interesting around here," Greengrass said as she sat down.
"You can say that again."
"I won't bother asking what Bulstrode wanted, or why," Greengrass said as she flipped through her textbook. "Like most of us, she values prestige and honour."
"She was quite desperate yesterday." Arti tried not to giggle.
Greengrass smiled. "As are most of those who support the Dark Lord."
"She was insinuating that she knew things."
Greengrass turned to look sharply at her. "She was stupid enough to tell you that?"
Arti nodded, not hiding her laughter this time. But then her expression sobered. "I'm not sure if it was true. I hope not. It could be nothing and just her bluffing. But of course I couldn't ask her."
"Would you like me to?"
Arti watched Greengrass closely, trying not to look suspicious. "You would do that? It would put me more in your debt."
"True, but I'd rather not have Bulstrode or Parkinson or whoever else pass on information, especially if it turns out to really be important. Though what they could possibly know that would be useful to the Dark Lord, I don't know. But I don't want to take the risk. So I suppose I'm not doing this just for you. You still owe me."
She sighed. "I know."
"Maybe I'll find out some of the secrets they've been hiding all these years."
"Bulstrode and Parkinson have secrets?" Arti asked, with a sidelong glance. "I mean ones that aren't trivial nonsense?"
A flicker of exasperation crossed Greengrass's face, but when she spoke, her tone was neutral. "Everyone has secrets. You just have to find out what they are. They can't stay buried forever. If we had been friendlier with them, we could have had quite an arsenal by now, I'm sure."
"On the other hand, they'd know things about us that we probably wouldn't want them to. This way, they can't use anything against us. Or so I hope."
Mother and Father came into Lena's room to find her and Roger still entwined in each other's arms. Mother looked haggard and Lena guessed that she hadn't slept much the night before and given how busy she had been at work the last few days, it was no wonder. Lena squirmed guilty. Mother hugged her gently then went to pick up the empty vial on the floor. Lena followed her movements, her eyes landing on her wand on her bedside table. She wondered where her potion piece was and surmised that someone had put it away. She was glad for it, she didn't need any reminders of what she had done. Not that she needed any.
"How can you even look at me?" she asked in tearful disgust. Roger's arms tightened around her, but she pushed him away. "How can any of you look at me, after what I've done?" She gazed wildly around at them. "I killed him! I hurt him."
"But he hurt you too–" Roger began.
"I hurt him right back! Much worse than what he did to me! I enjoyed it just as much as he did. More, since I got to torture him much longer than he did me. Merlin, what is wrong with me?"
"There's nothing–" Mother began.
"Yes there is!" She grabbed fistfuls of her hair.
"No–"
"How can there not be? I could smell how much he enjoyed Cruciating me, how he liked it. It repulsed me to think that he felt that way, but I did the same thing and felt as he had." She wrapped her arms around herself as she stood shaking. "Arti were right, you know, even if I didn't want to admit it to myself yet. I'm a monster."
"Of course you aren't–" Mother and Father chorused.
"Aren't I? I'm just like them."
"No, you're not!"
"How am I not? I did the same thing to him that he did to me!"
"With good reason–" Roger began.
"And I liked it. I loved it even. And I understood how he – they could find pleasure in it. To be able to have that much power over someone… To hurt them so badly that they'd do anything to make you stop." She took several gulps of air. "Maya was disgusted and afraid of me, but that just made me like it all the more. They were weak. Maya..." Her voice broke. "How can Maya be so nice to me after what I did? I wouldn't be able to look at me if I were her. And I certainly wouldn't want to be friends with me either."
Lena slid to the floor and began rocking back and forth, raking her nails across her skin. "I did so much more than that simply kill him outright. I played with him, I had him begging for mercy, for his life. I told him he deserved neither and would get neither. And he didn't." She swallowed. "I made it last as long as I could before I killed him. And Merlin, how proud, how happy, I was that I could make him fear me so. And it was so much better since I could smell it too, his terror, his kept pleading with me not to kill him. But I told him that wasn't an option, he'd hurt so many already. He wasn't going to touch anyone again. Of course, I also gave him an idea of the other things I could have done to him. Maya–Maya told me I'd regret it. But I didn't believe her. I told her I'd never regret bringing the bastard to justice. She kept trying to stop me, but I wouldn't listen. I suppose my one act of mercy that night was to send the children back to Hogwarts so they didn't see what I'd become. And at first, when I told Arti and the others about it, I was proud that I made them so scared of me, and couldn't understand why they were so repulsed. But now..." She straightened slightly. "I don't regret doing it – well, maybe a little – I just regret how much I enjoyed it. Just like he did."
"You're not–" Father began.
"Aren't I? You know what I did. I didn't even hesitate."
"But you did it to save your son. You were angry at him for hurting those you loved. Any parent would do the same."
"I don't believe you. Not like that you wouldn't."
Father knelt in front of her, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. "There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. Any parent, any person really, would want to protect those they love, at any cost." He held up a hand as Lena opened her mouth to protest. "They would want to hurt whoever had hurt their loved ones, kill them even and many have. You're not the first and you certainly won't be the last. It's human nature. None of us do or ever will think any less of you for it."
Lena opened her mouth to object, but Father put up a hand.
"Everyone has dark sides to them. But the important thing is what you choose to act on."
"But I–"
"Yes, you tortured him, but that doesn't make you an irredeemable person." Lena winced. "You're not evil or monstrous. You realised that you didn't like what you did and learned from it. You learned that you don't like hurting or killing people. And you realised that while you might have enjoyed it in the moment, you're repulsed byt it now. But sometimes it can't be helped, because they hurt someone you love. You didn't hurt him because of what he was, you hurt because of what he did. The Death Eaters, on the other hand, don't think that way. They hurt people because who they are, simply because they exist. You would never do that."
"You sound like Roger did the night Maya was bitten," Lena said. It seemed such a long time ago. "He said the same thing."
Father looked approvingly at him. "Smart man. I knew there was a reason I liked him."
Elayne cornered Arti at lunch.
"What is going on?" she demanded, hands on her hips. "First you say awful things to Selena and now you're talking to Bulstrode and Greengrass?"
"None of your business," Arti said as calmly as she could. "At least not yet," she added quietly.
Elayne's eyes narrowed, then a flicker of a smile crossed her face. "You're having fun, aren't you?"
Arti stared at Elayne for a moment, nonplused. She was full of surprises.
"Not yet, but I will soon."
"I still don't forgive you for what you said to Selena."
"That's fine," Arti said, her tone brusque. "But it might bring about some good changes if all goes as planned."
"I wish there'd been some other way to have it happen."
She wasn't quite ready to admit that she wished that too. "I might as well use this to my advantage. The chance might never come again."
Elayne gave her a hard look. "Hector Carrow and Freese have got a lot of them convinced," she said finally.
"Good. It's a start."
