The Paths We Tread
Chapter 17: Staunch to the End
The Fortress
Hirta Island, St. Kilna
Outer Hebrides, Scotland
October 23, 1996
"And that's everything," Ron murmured, his eyes narrowed as he gazed around the entranceway. Beside him, Harry stood silently, Hermione a few feet away still running diagnostic spells.
"Truthfully," the Gryffindor witch said quietly, biting her lip, "I don't really know what else we could possibly add."
Harry let out a tired sigh and scrubbed his hand over his face. Idly, he fiddled with the dragon tooth necklace at his throat as he stared down one of the passageways. He shook his head, scowling, and stepped forward, moving quickly towards the Dorms Hall. Ron and Hermione fell in behind him, following along as he passed by open door after open door. All of the rooms were furnished, barely, of course, but furnished all the same. He stared at the small twin beds and plain dressers, the barren stone walls, and shook his head, continuing on down the hall.
As he walked, torches flickered to life along the walls before them. A long trek brought him down to their Command Center, and he came to a halt beside the huge, circular table that now stood in the center of the room. Spread across the surface was a glowing parchment, and Harry gazed down at the map. As he watched, the tiny footprints labeled 'Neville Longbottom' paced the front dias in the room of Requirement at Hogwarts. At his side stood Ginny and Luna, with a small gathering of students appearing in the hallway, dots multiplying by the second. He turned his gaze to another section of map and watched as the dot labeled "Hermione Granger" moved towards his own.
"This is really something, Hermione," he said softly, and he heard Ron snort at the understatement.
The Map on the table put the Marauder's Map to shame. The product of weeks of hard work, it had taken the efforts of Hermione, Ron, Lupin, Bill, Shacklebolt, Dean and, surprisingly, Theo Nott, to bring the Map to life. A sudden glow erupted on the parchment and Harry stiffened, then relaxed when he saw the dot of Alexandria Abernathy appeared at the front door. At her shoulder was Louis St. James and Deacon Rothschild – with Bill's absence glaring.
Behind the map, a Foe Glass on the wall appeared, shadows moving within it. The faces didn't sharpen.
Hermione smiled slightly. "There's more to activate," she replied, "but I'm still trying to figure out the best method of delivery."
Harry grunted. His mood gone sour, he stepped back from the table and stared around the room.
"Eight days," Hermione whispered, and Ron scoffed beside her.
"At best," Ron said with a scowl. Harry set his jaw as he felt their gazes land on him, and he clenched his teeth together, squeezing the crystal in his pocket.
"This is gonna work, mate," Ron said softly, and Harry glanced over at him, his mind racing. With a frown, the Potter teen grunted and turned on his heel, leaving the room in a hurried pace. He heard Hermione sigh behind him and the other two followed again, shadows casting along the walls.
In the entrance he stopped, standing framed in the doorway and gazing up at the night sky. The wards were sparking, shooting off bolts of static every so often as he watched. Letting go of the crystal in his pocket, he let out another tired sigh. The wards vanished from his view, and the glowing moths lining the pathway became the only light.
"It's going to have to," he replied finally, and without another word, he spun on his heel and vanished back to Hogwarts.
Hospital Wing
Hogwarts
"It can't feel that, you know," a soft voice echoed through the wing, and Daphne jerked back, whipping her head around to glare at the doorway. Behind her, the moon hung in the sky, framed by dark, threatening clouds.
Hannah Abbott smiled at her lightly, uncrossing her arms and straightening from where she had been leaning against the doorway. "The moon," she explained, though Daphne hadn't bloody asked. "It doesn't know you're glaring at it."
Daphne scoffed, raising an eyebrow as she gazed imperiously at the Hufflepuff girl. The the other teen just smiled again.
"It can't hurt you," she whispered, and Daphne closed her eyes.
"It's going to hurt me plenty in a couple days," she replied, tears prickling the corners of her eyes. A surge of anger rose up in her – who did this girl think she was?
Abbott flinched slightly, and Daphne felt a surge of victory. Good. The little brat should feel uncomfortable. It was only fair. But the victorious smirk died as the other girl walked into the room and sat gingerly on the edge of her bed. Daphne just stared, dumbstruck.
"That's true, I suppose," Abbott said softly, her face somber. "But you have the best people in the world to help you. Professor Lupin can get you through this." Without waiting for permission, the girl scooted around on the bed and leaned against the headboard beside Daphne, stretching her legs out with a long sigh.
"And," she continued with an amused grin, "you've just been unofficially adopted into the strangest extended family ever."
Daphne flinched, closing her eyes, as her sister's scornful face rose up in her mind. Beside her, Abbott shifted slightly, and Daphne felt an arm go around her. She stiffened, jerking forward, and the other girl just sighed.
"They won't speak to you?" Abbott asked softly, and Daphne scoffed.
"To whom?" she replied scathingly. "I died. They don't care about this thing."
"You aren't dead, Daphne," the Hufflepuff replied in a hard voice.
"Good as," Daphne muttered, and she sighed, opening her eyes and falling back against the pillows. Clearly, the annoying chit wasn't going to leave any time soon, and why should she be uncomfortable? "She's just doing what she's told," Daphne murmured, eyes prickling with tears. "She has to stay on Malfoy's good side, because Father wants to marry her into the family. It was supposed to be me, but… well." She shrugged lightly and turned her gaze towards the window on her right, turning away from Abbott.
"Lucky you," the Hufflepuff muttered, and Daphne spun around, staring at her.
"Are you insinuating," she asked shrilly, glaring at the rosy-cheeked Hufflepuff, "that you would rather be a werewolf than married to Draco Malfoy?"
"Well…. Yeah," Abbott – Hannah – replied, seeming genuinely confused by the question, and Daphne choked, bursting into hysterical laughter on her next breath. Tears clouded her vision but she caught sight of Abbott's alarmed face as she doubled over, pulling her knees up to her chest and letting her long hair curtain her face. Beside her, the Hufflepuff girl shifted back slightly, rubbing a hand up and down her back as everything surged up – the insanity of her life, past and present, the strange new bedfellows, the people she'd thought she could count on forever who were just gone…
"Hannah, what the bloody hell are you – " Susan Bones' voice echoed from the corridor, and Daphne glanced up to see the redhead standing in the doorway, glaring at Hannah. Abbott. Whoever. "You broke her," the other Hufflepuff said flatly, eyes fixed on Daphne's face, and Hannah stiffened indignantly, her hand stilling on Daphne's back.
"She's just emotional right now," Hannah defended herself, and Daphne forced back another bout of laughter, burying her face back in her knees. "I'm keeping her," the other girl continued.
"She isn't a pet, Hannah, you can't just go around collecting living beings!" Bones cried with exasperation, and Hannah just scoffed. "Remember what happened with the Niffler?"
Oh, bloody hell. Daphne slowly raised her head, her eyes boring holes into Bones as she glared through red-rimmed eyes. "You did not," she said icily, "just compare me to a Niffler."
"I – " Bones started, but a smooth voice cut through the wing, and Daphne turned to see salvation standing in the doorway.
"Daphne," Blaise said with a grin, "you didn't tell me you were having a party." The dark-skinned Italian eyed Hannah with a sparkle in his eyes, winking at the blonde girl. "Is it clothing optional?"
"Pig," Daphne muttered, biting back a grin as Hannah choked. "What are you doing here?"
The other Slytherin straightened and moved into the room, sitting casually on the hospital bed next to hers. "Checking on my favorite girl, of course," he replied smoothly. He grinned rakishly at her then sombered, leaning forward. "How are you feeling, tesoro?"
"I'll be fine," Daphne replied shortly, mindful of the two Hufflepuffs still in the room. Beside her, Hannah removed her hand from Daphne's back, exchanging a look with the girl in the doorway.
"It's been a long week," Blaise murmured, and the Slytherin girl scoffed at him.
"You don't say," she said snidely, scowling at him, and beside her, Hannah sighed. She shoved one hand into her long hair, closing her eyes as she pulled at the roots, and bowed her head with a frown. "Astoria?"
A heavy silence fell over the room, and she glanced up, letting her hand fall from her hair. A curtain of blonde strands fell over her face as she met Blaise's eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I tried."
As the silence stretched on, Daphne sighed, shaking her head. "She's just doing what she's told," she muttered again. In her mind's eye, her sister's face flashed – wide eyed and smiling as she found a swarm of butterflies in a pasture, pale and frightened as she slipped into Daphne's bed during a particularly loud thunderstorm – and she swallowed as a lump formed in her throat.
"She's just not strong like you, Daph," Blaise said softly, and Daphne let out a startled huff.
"Am I?" she asked with a scowl.
"Yes," Hannah and Blaise said, almost in unison, and Daphne fell silent, leaning back against the headboard again and staring straight ahead.
"I have an idea," Hannah said suddenly, and Daphne glanced at the girl as Bones bit back an annoyed groan. "Desserts!" the blonde Hufflepuff said with a wide smile. As Daphne stared, she pressed on. "Ron showed me the kitchens and I made friends with a wonderfully sweet house elf named Dobby. He'll make us whatever we would like. What's your favorite?" The other girl frowned suddenly. "Although… nothing chocolate."
Daphne raised an eyebrow. What, was the girl trying to dictate her food choices now?
"Chocolate is toxic to werewolves in high enough doses," Hannah explained softly, and Daphne felt the blood drain from her face.
But…
"You're joking," Blaise spluttered, and the two Hufflepuffs turned to look at him, Hannah expectantly, Bones with a glare on her face. "Professor Lupin is practically a chocolate addict."
The two girls continued to stare at him, and his face fell, the boy shooting an apologetic glance Daphne's way. "Oh," he muttered.
Suicide by chocolate, she thought with slight hysteria. My old professor, the one who is supposed to helpme through this, has been trying to commit suicide by chocolate for years.
Maybe he didn't know, she thought with a frown, then snorted. Right. The man was a bonafide genius.
"Chocolate isn't my favorite, anyway," she said simply, and she breathed a sigh of relief when the others relaxed. Next to her, Hannah beamed, turning on the bed and practically bouncing towards her.
"What is, then? Dobby makes a fantastic berry tart! Or, ooh, his crème brûlée is amazing and…"
Sue chuckled under her breath as she slipped through the Hospital Wing doors. Poor Greengrass, she thought idly. Once Hannah decided she was going to be your friend… there wasn't anything that could deter her.
And, Sue could warn the Slytherin girl from experience, it would take weeks before she would stop trying to mother her.
She sighed, shaking her head with a rueful grin. She supposed she would just have to add Daphne Greengrass to the 'List of People Hannah Wants to Save.'
It was in a drawer by her bed, at Hannah's insistence. And it was getting rather long.
"Wait!" a voice cut through her musings, and Sue skidded to a halt and spun on her heel, glaring down the corridor. Behind her, Blaise Zabini stood there, looking slightly winded and not a little annoyed.
"Merlin, you're six inches shorter than me at least," the Slytherin boy griped. "How are you so fast?"
The sound of stomping feet echoed through the corridor and Sue glanced over her shoulder to see Seamus heading towards her, his eyes narrowed on the Slytherin. Behind him, Dean and Theo followed at a more relaxed pace, the other Slytherin's brow furrowed. As she watched, Dean turned his head and muttered something to Theo, and the wiry Slytherin shook his head and frowned.
She turned back slowly, fixing Zabini with a disinterested gaze. "What," she said flatly, and she felt Seamus step up beside her, standing shoulder to shoulder. The Irishman was tense, his face twisted in a scowl, and she bit back a grin.
Oh, Seamus, she thought fondly. So predictable.
"You're going to a meeting, right?" Zabini replied calmly.
"What?"
"A D.A. meeting," he continued. "I want to go."
Sue scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "I hardly think you've had a change of heart," she said sharply, her eyes narrowed. The dark-skinned Italian grinned, his white teeth flashing in his pretty face.
"Merlin, no," he chuckled, shaking his head with a grin. "I loathe all of you. I wouldn't give a bloody damn if the lot of you dropped dead."
Sue heard Theo wince and bit back her own grin. Yeah, mate, she thought to herself, your friend is really selling himself here.
"Then why the fuck do you want to go?" Seamus demanded, and Zabini's eyes flickered toward the Irishman for a split second before he focused back on her.
"They want her dead," Zabini said softly, his arrogant grin fading. "Something awful happened to her, and it isn't her fault."
Sue stared at the Slytherin boy with narrowed eyes as Seamus shifted at her shoulder.
"That girl in there, she's my best friend," Zabini continued. "'cept for you, of course, Theo," he nodded towards his fellow Slytherin. "They want her dead, and they want Theo dead, so…"
The boy's face hardened and his eyes glinted dangerously. "So I want every last one of them dead." He grinned again. "It's only fair."
Sue huffed out a startled laugh as she met his eyes, shaking her head. Beside her, Seamus and Dean were stiff and silent, and Theo stood to her right, looking back and forth between her and Zabini.
"You understand that right now, that includes your good buddy Malfoy," Sue said simply.
Zabini met her gaze evenly. "I'm aware."
"Your mother?"
His mouth quirked in a half-grin. "Neutral."
"Where is she?" she demanded, and Zabini outright laughed.
"Fuck if I know," the Slytherin replied. "She dropped me off at the Express and I haven't heard from her since. I think she has a new plaything - she's probably halfway around the globe by now."
Sue nodded slowly, feeling Seamus fidgeting anxiously behind her. "Theo," she asked flatly, and the other Slytherin winced again.
Theo shot his friend a look, then looked back at her, biting his lip. "He's a prick sometimes," Theo said, and Blaise grinned wider, "but he keeps his word."
He hasn't given his word, Sue thought darkly. "Fine," she replied shortly. "Theo, youget to convince Ron and Hermione." She spun on her heel, Seamus and Dean falling into step with her, and they set off down the hallway. "And if you turn on us, Zabini, I'll put you in the ground myself!" she shouted back over her shoulder.
"Please, fragolina, like you could actually kill someone!" Zabini shouted back, and Seamus growled under his breath.
Sue just smiled. Would you like to find out for yourself? she thought snidely.
Room of Requirement
Hogwarts
"Alright everyone, that's all for today," Neville said with a slight smile. "Thanks for coming and don't forget, if you can manage extra patrols, see Sue or Seamus to find out what shifts are available. Have a good night!"
A chorus of 'goodnight' and 'see you's echoed through the room, and Neville stood perfectly still on the platform until the door swung shut behind the last student. The minute the door closed, he spun around, the fixed smile disappearing. "Zabini?" he said incredulously, and Ginny laughed and shrugged, her brown eyes sparkling.
"Well, he is kinda hot," she replied, smirking, and Neville stared at her. "What? He is!"
"Sue wouldn't bring someone here because she thinks he's good looking," Neville responded flatly, and Ginny laughed again.
"No," she agreed, shaking her head. "But Daphne Greengrass is his best friend, so that could have something to do with it."
Neville frowned. Raising an eyebrow, he turned his head towards the little blonde sitting on the edge of the platform, tracing designs into the air with her wand. "Do you trust him?" he asked Luna.
"He knows who he is," she replied vaguely, and Neville's frown deepened.
"What does that mean?" Ginny scowled, and Luna just smiled.
"You'll see," she giggled. "Although, he is rather good looking."
"Right. So we're going with no," Neville muttered, "we don't trust him. But he is apparently very pretty. Got it."
"As long as you know," Gin smirked, and Neville shot her a baleful glare. "What? It's not our fault you've only even noticed one girl for over five years now. Not all of us are like you."
Neville flushed, a hand immediately going to his pocket. "I notice you two," he protested weakly, and Ginny grinned.
"Yeah, sure." She rolled her eyes. "You should tell her, Nev," she said more gently.
"Not right now," Luna singsonged, and the pair turned to stare at the girl.
"No?" Neville asked. Although. He couldn't claim to be surprised. He already knew that she didn't…
Luna looked up, meeting his gaze with intense focus. "She isn't ready to hear you yet," she said softly.
"Yet," Ginny repeated emphatically, and Neville sighed.
"I need to go meet McGonagall," he murmured. "Where are you two off to?"
Ginny stretched her arms above her head and linked her hands, wincing when her shoulder popped. "Checking in with Viktor," she replied. "He wants to run some more blood tests."
Neville frowned again. "They haven't found anything, Gin. Don't you think – "
"I know something is there," Ginny cut him off, scowling, and Neville looked helplessly at his other friend. Luna frowned, her normally vacant expression sharp and somber, and he swallowed.
"It's going to be – "
"All sunshine, rainbows, and Pygmy puffs, I know," Ginny said waspishly, and she shot him an apologetic grin and tossed her hair back over her shoulder. Patting him on the arm, she vaulted down from the platform and headed for the door.
"Ginny," Luna called after her, and Ginny paused, glancing back over her shoulder.
"Yes?" she asked simply, and Luna blinked at her.
"Pygmy puffs are mean," the Ravenclaw told her seriously. Neville stared at the back of her head as Ginny barked out a laugh.
"I'll keep that in mind," the Weasley girl grinned, and the door swung shut behind her. Neville scrubbed a hand over his face, his shoulders falling as he closed his eyes.
"Do I need to worry about her, too?" Neville asked hoarsely, dropping his hands, and Luna hummed under her breath.
"We need to worry about everyone, Neville," she said gently. Clambering to her feet, she crossed the platform and kissed his cheek. "But speaking of Hermione, I told her I would help with some research tonight. And they should be back by now."
"Be careful," Neville said somberly, and she smiled.
"Always."
The door closed again and he fell back against the wall, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. His hands were shaking as he balled them into fists at his sides and he took slow, steady breaths as he stood there, listening intently to the silence.
Merlin, he was so bloody tired. And so tired of being cooped up inside stone walls. Opening his eyes, he pressed one hand to the wall behind him and focused. The Room shifted, the stones sliding beneath his feet, and a small trapdoor appeared beside him.
Neville smiled tiredly. He bloody loved the Room of Requirement. With a wave of his wand, he sealed their meeting space against any but the 'Inner Circle,' and then turned and slipped through the trapdoor, his hands still shaking on the ropes as he climbed down. The rope ladder stopped a good meter above the ground and he jumped down the rest of the way, dust flying up from beneath his boots as he landed in a crouch.
The dusty alcove was nearly pitch black, no light save one small torch on the wall opposite, and he lifted the torch and scowled as the flames cast jerky shadows along the walls. Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath and willed himself to calm. His hands stilled, and his eyes opened.
Three steps took him to an archway, and he passed through and opened a large wooden door, smiling as he felt the cool night air brush across his face. A steady breeze was bowing the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest, a hoot or chirp echoing every so often from the branches. With a soft sigh, he settled himself on the edge of the hill and threaded his fingers into the grass, closing his eyes as he felt the energy thrumming through the blades.
Better, he thought simply, and he leaned back on his elbows, feeling the cold dampness of the ground seep into his robes.
Then the sound of footsteps cut through the night, and he opened his eyes to see Professor McGonagall looking down at him sternly.
"Do you have all night, Mr. Longbottom?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "I assure you, I do not."
Neville grinned, sitting up quickly. Some things never changed.
Remains of Malfoy Manor
The outskirts of Malmesbury
Wiltshire, England
"Explain it anyway," Dumbledore said gently, "no matter how simplistic you think your explanation."
Rosmerta scowled. "Think of it like a massive Legilimency field," she replied, glaring at the grounds. The rubble had been cleared slightly, but mounds of rock and debris were still scattered everywhere. And blue and white bolts of lightning still shot up from the ground, hissing and crackling as they passed through some invisible barrier. "Although it takes action on what it finds."
Albus smiled softly at the thought of his dear friend. Minerva has been completely correct, that Hagrid retained enough innocence and purity of heart to be able to walk the grounds unscathed.
"But as you said weeks ago, it was simply too generic," he responded. "Had it been limited or defined in any way…"
"Albus, what are you suggesting?" Rosie asked shrilly, and Dumbledore turned his head, meeting her eyes with a gentle smile. The barkeeper was watching him with a worried frown, her eyes dark and troubled.
"It was very brave of you, Rosmerta, to keep Tom distracted until I arrived," he said instead. "I hope you realize as much."
The woman scoffed. "'Brave' didn't help Robbie, did it?"
Albus frowned. Gawain had been a kind soul. He deserved a far better end than what he had received.
"It bought him time," Albus said softly, and Rosmerta sniffed, looking away.
"I stand by my statement," she muttered, shooting him a glare. "If you're suggesting what I think you are – Albus, the energy required to cover just this place nearly killed Bill. And now, nobody can even stand there without being injured. Or worse."
Albus nodded thoughtfully. The increasingly violent-minded cursebreaker has suggested a test to the spell on the property the week before, and before Albus had gotten wind of it, his request had been carried out by the twins and three members of his team. How George Weasley had gotten his hands on Amycus Carrow, he didn't understand. He had learned over the years never to underestimate the ingenuity of a Weasley, of course, but still.
And that young William had called sending Amycus onto the property against his will an 'experiment,' and not murder… that was troubling in its own right.
"It would take some alterations, to be sure," he agreed absently, his eyes fixed on the mound of ash nearest the start of the dead grass.
"Alterations? Albus, for heaven's sake – "
"You know I'm right," he said simply, and Rosmerta fell silent.
An uneasy quiet fell over them and he stepped forward, his eyes narrowed on the deadened property. As he crossed the barrier, he felt the bee sting sensation spring up on his skin. Ariana's voice echoed in his mind, tears in her shrill voice. Albus, help me, Albus!
He shook his head and stepped back, Rosie's eyes lingering on him.
"If you insist on doing this," she said finally, "we can talk to Brand and – "
Albus shook his head, smiling, and the woman's voice trailed off. "Rosmerta, my dear," he said simply, "I have no need of Klaus Brand."
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small, silver dreidel-shaped object, and he bent over with a wince and a creak, setting one pointed end down in the dirt. With a shriveled hand, he tapped the other end with his wand, and the dreidel spun wildly, symbols and runes appearing in the air before them. He rose slowly to stand beside the woman and his smile widened.
"I only need you," he finished, as Rosmerta stared at the runes.
Defense Professor's Quarters
Hogwarts
October 29, 1996
"Anyone else?" Arthur asked wearily, rubbing a hand across his forehead. He squinted at the list with a worried frown, his free hand clenching around a glass of scotch.
Christ, he was tired. He was getting too damn old for these days-long treks across South America and Africa alone.
"No," Shacklebolt responded with a frown of his own, tossing back his glass. He leaned back in his big leather armchair, stretching his legs out to rest on the coffee table. "Jordan hasn't had any luck connecting with the last three members of the Romanian team. They all went dark one week apart."
"But Pritchard reported movement?" Arthur asked, his brow furrowed. He set down the glass and rummaged through the papers at the desk before him, sliding a small map free from the pile. He gazed down at the map of Sighisoara, watching as the lines of ink danced on the parchment.
"Not quite."
Arthur looked up sharply, his eyes narrowed as he looked at the somber man. Kingsley met his gaze with a steely glint. "The whole Citadel."
"Survivors?" Arthur practically barked, and Shack shook his head.
"They razed it to the ground."
His fingers tightened on the map, knuckles turning white. "Christ," Arthur muttered.
Shack nodded, his mouth set in a thin line. "Even took down Butcher's Tower," he tumbled. "Overkill, if you ask me, it was already half-destroyed."
"Nothing is sacred to these monsters," Arthur breathed, closing his eyes. For a long moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire.
"If Pritchard hasn't reported in yet, we have to assume – " Shacklebolt began slowly, and Arthur shook his head, opening his eyes.
"How long?" he asked simply, and Shacklebolt hesitated.
"Jordan has not heard from him in three days," he replied, scowling, and Arthur sighed heavily.
"And the Citadel was razed when?"
"Four days ago. The others died in the massacre."
"The Clan is on the move, then," Arthur murmured. He tossed the map back on the desk and dropped his head into his hands, digging his fingers into his temples. "He did it. The bloody psychopath did it."
"Looks that way," Shacklebolt agreed. The burly Auror hesitated a moment before asking, "Orders?"
Arthur let out a slow breath, unclenching his hands. "Is Rufus back yet?"
"Last night," Shack agreed. "He and Amy went to get a rest, but hell, it's three o'clock in the morning," he snorted. "They should be up and about by now."
He nodded thoughtfully, raising his head and turning to gaze absently at the fire. Voynich had a marvelous Tuica, he thought inanely. It was a shame. "Have him pick a team. Go check out the Citadel. See what they find."
"I could – "
"You're needed here, and you know it," Arthur cut the bigger man off sternly, and Shack sighed. The burly Auror got to his feet, pacing back and forth in front of the fire, and Arthur just watched him quietly.
"We have to assume they've brought some powerful artifacts with them," Shack warned, scowling. "What we gained of Nott's collection from Malfoy Manor, that can't even be half of what the Clan had hidden underground in that city."
"Probably," Arthur agreed wearily.
"If they have the Cup – "
"They don't."
The younger man stilled, his entire frame tensing. As Arthur watched, the other man turned slowly, his face set.
"I thought you trusted me," Kingsley said softly, and Arthur smiled.
"I wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't," the Weasley patriarch replied.
"And yet, almost twenty years of working for you, and you've never kept a secret from me."
Arthur snorted, his grin widening. "Son, I keep secrets from everybody. Most of you just never get the chance to find out."
"Yeah?" Shack shot back, glaring at him. "How many of them did you have chasing something when you knew exactly where it was? For years?"
"Well…" Arthur began, his voice trailing off when Shack huffed.
"How long have you had it?" he demanded. The man held up a hand and scowled, shaking his head. "No, wait, I don't want to know. I don't know what's worse," he muttered to himself, turning and practically throwing himself back down in his chair.
"Come again?" Arthur asked, his brow furrowed.
"This? Or all that time I spent leading the hunt for Sirius Black… only to go back to Sirius Black's house every other day for secret club meetings." The burly Auror scowled again, grabbing his scotch bottle and refilling it to the rim as Arthur struggled not to laugh. "A man only has time for so many side jobs, Arthur."
Arthur nodded emphatically, fixing a sympathetic look on his face. "I'm sorry for the ruse, my friend," he said simply, and Kingsley sighed.
"I get it," he murmured. "Smart. Best way to keep something safe is to make it look like you don't have it. Who knows?"
"Rufus."
"Does he know what it is?" Shack asked, and Arthur shook his head. The image of a boulder, a lake, a crown of flowers rose up in his mind, and he rubbed his hands on his temples again.
"I fear I've made the wrong call," he said softly, and Shack scoffed.
"All this time, I've only seen you be wrong once," the Auror said. He pointed at Arthur with the hand holding the bottle, nodding to himself. "I'm betting on you."
"Twice," Arthur muttered, and Shack shook his head.
"You weren't wrong about Brand, Arthur," he said urgently. "People change. And not always for the better."
"Exactly," he replied, and Shack stared at him. "Kingsley, I need you to promise me something."
"What, boss?"
"If you ever – " Arthur stopped, swallowed against the sudden dryness of his throat, and tried again. "If you ever see me behaving in a manner that threatens my family or our team, I need you to neutralize me."
Silence echoed in the room, and he looked up to see Shacklebolt staring at him, his face a stony mask.
"Arthur, you are the only man I've never worried about turning," Shacklebolt said slowly, and Arthur smiled.
"Thank you, son, but I'm serious. There are…" He sighed, frowning as he stared blankly at the fire. "There are some risks I've taken recently, and I believe they were the right thing to do, but… nonetheless." Turning back to his friend, he smiled sadly. "We've seen what a slippery slope this can be. I need to know that if I fall, you won't let me hurt anyone."
Shacklebolt stared back at him, his face blank. The younger man's eyes searched his face, and after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. "I cannot think of any circumstance that would cause me to ever raise a hand or wand to you," he said in a low voice. "But I won't let you falter, either."
"Thank you, my friend," Arthur said hoarsely, sagging in the chair.
The Auror nodded. "Are you going to tell me what you've done to yourself, now?" he asked with a scowl and Arthur huffed out a startled laugh.
"No," they both said in unison, and Shack shook his head, grinning at his boss. Standing gracefully, he clapped Arthur on the shoulder and set down his glass. "I'll call Scrimgeour," he called over his shoulder as he headed for the door. "You stay as long as you like, Arthur."
Arthur smiled absently at the younger man's back, his eyes shadowed. Slowly, his gaze drifted back to the fire, and he sat there at the desk and gazed into the flames. The cut on his arm burned and another memory floated to the surface of his mind – this time, it was baby Charlie, lurching to his feet to take his first steps. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and he tilted his head back, closing his eyes, and willed his mind to quiet.
Then with a nod and a grimace, he set down his empty glass and pushed to his feet.
There was work to be done yet.
The Fortress
Hirta Island, St. Kilna
Outer Hebrides, Scotland
"Go over it again?" Bill asked, his eyes narrowed on the small object. He reached out a hand and carefully traced the carving of pentagram, the iron bitingly cold against his fingers.
"What's to go over?" Lou scowled. "They said it works." Bill raised his eyes to stare blankly at his teammate, and the Frenchman scowled. "The monks said that it can summon, trap, and control demons. That they have tested it."
Bill scoffed, his eyes going back down to the ring that lay on the table. "Would you call Voldemort a demon?" he asked mildly, and Alex snorted.
"If that foul creature isn't, what is?"
"Fair point," Bill murmured. He lifted the ring gently from the table and turned it over in his hand. "How did the Seal end up in a Nepalese temple?"
"Monks," Lou grumbled, shaking his head. "They like to meddle."
Bill rolled his eyes, closing his fist around the ring. He let out a slow, steady breath and closed his eyes, feeling the strange energy coming from the piece start to seep into his skin.
It felt almost like a star trying to burrow into him. Bloody fucking hell, did it sting.
You're opening another door you can't close, Weasley, he thought to himself tiredly. Keep putting all this crazy energy into yourself and you'll fucking explode.
The chilling voice laughed in his mind. He opened his eyes, looking away as he caught sight of Alex's worried gaze.
"Did they tell you anything about how it works?"
Lou shook his head.
A shadow fell across the door and as Bill watched, Neville stepped into the room, his usually friendly face stony. "It chooses," he said simply, and Bill raised an eyebrow at the teen. "My gran," he explained with a frown. "She was obsessed with the legends of Solomon. I learned about these before I even went to Hogwarts."
"What do you mean, chooses?" Bill asked. The image of blue light, floating dust, a melted face rose up in his mind, and he pushed the memory away. "Chooses how?"
"It chooses those it deems worthy," the boy replied, his eyes still fixed on Bill's closed fist. "Wisdom, soul, righteousness."
"Well, I'm fucked, then," Bill muttered, quirking a slight grin, and Lou laughed.
"I was about to say that," his friend retorted, clapping him on the shoulder.
"You can feel it, though," Neville said, and Bill looked at him sharply.
"Does that mean something?"
"Yes," the only surviving Longbottom said softly. "Yes, it does."
Forbidden Forest
Hogwarts
"I just don't see any other way to keep them safe, Hagrid," Luna said softly, patting his giant hand with her tiny one as they walked down the winding pathway.
"It isn't that I don't agree," the half-giant replied, giving her a gentle smile. "It's just that the centaurs – well, they don't think like you and me, Luner. They see the world… differently, is all."
"But they are in danger," Luna pointed out simply, and Hagrid nodded.
"I just don't think they're going to listen to us."
"I have to try," the blonde Ravenclaw replied stubbornly, and Hagrid sighed.
"I understand, little Raven," he said, ruffling her hair gently – for him, at least. Luna beamed up at him even as she sank slightly into the soft ground under the weight of his hand. "And I'll be with yeh, every step of the way."
"You've stepped quite far enough," an imperious voice echoed, and Luna and Hagrid turned to see a black-haired centaur galloping through the trees.
"Hullo, Bane," Hagrid said nervously, forcing a smile, and Luna slipped her hand into his, squeezing it gently.
"Hagrid," the centaur returned, his face set in a scowl. "We've told you that you are no longer welcome on this ground."
"Now, see here," Hagrid began. "We came to warn you – " Behind Bane, the undergrowth rustled, and the sound of hoof beats echoed through the Forest as the rest of the centaurs gathered.
"Warn us?" Bane demanded, his face twisting in a sneer. "We, who follow the stars themselves? What could you possibly warn us of that the stars have not already told?"
Over his shoulder, a golden bodied centaur appeared, and Luna smiled at Firenze as the centaur moved to stand close to her and Hagrid.
"Well, we, er – "
"Hagrid," Firenze cut him off gently. "Mars is blinding, my friend. Whatever warning you have is too late."
"But I – "
A sudden, sickening feeling swept through Luna, a ravenous hunger and hate. She felt her skin go cold, her eyes bright, and she shivered against the cool night air. Standing to her right, Firenze tensed, and she saw Bane's gaze sharpen on her face. The red-haired centaur at his side stared off into the trees to their left.
Hagrid let go of her hand and pulled his bow, his eyes fixed on the red-haired centaur.
"What is it, Ronan?" Hagrid asked, his voice shaking.
"Hagrid," Ronan replied, not turning his head. "Get the foal out of here."
Luna stared at him, her brow furrowed, even as the terrible thirst crept closer. "Excuse me, Mr. Centaur. I'm a girl, not a foal."
"You're a child," Bane snarled at her. "You have no business in war, and your foolish – "
"Bane!" Ronan cut the other centaur off, glaring at the black-haired being. "Hagrid, please. Get the foal, and go. We cannot protect you here."
"But – " Hagrid blustered, and suddenly, Luna felt a snarl tearing through the clearing.
"Hagrid!" she screamed, and the half-giant spun wildly, grabbing Luna's entire body in one hand and pulling her behind him. With a roar, he flung his right forearm up and the creature bounced off his arm, flung backwards into a tree. Luna stared wide-eyed as another snarling being appeared in the darkness, eyes flashing and blood dripping from its teeth.
"No!" Ronan roared, and the centaur wrapped a hand around Luna's wrist, pulling her back. Behind her, the others were galloping about, arrows flying through the air as they took down as many assailants as they could. The centaur dragged her towards a copse of trees and shoved her behind an outcropping of rock, and she stared at the small centaur foals that blinked up at her.
"Stay. Here," Ronan hissed at them, and the tiny centaurs blinked and nodded. Turning to Luna, he fixed a stern gaze on her face, and she frowned back at him.
"Hagrid," she said simply.
Ronan set his face and nodded. "We will see you out of the Forest," he promised, and then he turned and canted away. Luna leaned against the rocks, peering through the cracks as the tiny foals gathered around her, huddled together and shaking in fear.
She couldn't see anything. With a sigh, she reached up into her hair and tapped Celeste to wake her. The small moth stirred, buzzing quietly, then obediently flitted up into the sky.
There was Hagrid, just a few feet away, fighting back to back with the angry black centaur – Bane, how appropriate, she thought. Firenze - he'd been such a good teacher – he was opposite them, cutting a path with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other. As she watched, several of the creatures turned to smouldering piles of ash.
And then she felt it again. The ravenous hunger. And she looked up.
"Hello, precious," a voice hissed, and Luna felt a chill go down her spine. The man was leering down at them, his amber eyes flashing, saliva and blood dripping from his sharp teeth. Hanging from his neck was a chain of torn, bloodied ears, and in the center of the obscene necklace, a still bloodied eyeball hung.
The foals began to sob wildly, and Luna reached a hand behind herself, urging them back.
"We can't keep the Ministry locked out of here forever," Arthur said reasonably, scowling at the fireplace. "Unfortunately, corrupt though they are, they still have rights."
"Not on my grounds," Albus replied simply, smiling. "I'll simply pretend I've forgotten how to unlock the gates."
Arthur laughed, shaking his head. "How they still buy that doddering old man trick, I'll never understand," he breathed.
"Oh," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes, "about the same way they buy that you're a weak, incompetent fool." He grinned widely when Arthur raised an eyebrow, then laughed himself. "Honestly, Arthur, I was here when you and Tiberius had your first – disagreement. Others may have forgotten, but I haven't."
Arthur shrugged lightly, closing his eyes. "Simpler days."
"Simpler indeed," Dumbledore agreed, setting down his glass. "May I ask?"
"Ask what," the Weasley patriarch replied, leaning his head back in the chair. His eyes were still closed – Merlin, it was only just nearly 7 am, and he was already exhausted.
Although, perhaps the overcast sky had something to do with that. Where the sunrise should be, there was only grey on the horizon. What he wouldn't give for some light. Two weeks without was plenty long enough.
"William."
Slowly, Arthur opened his eyes. "I have no wish to continue arguing with you about my son, Albus," he said tiredly, staring up at the ceiling, and Dumbledore sighed.
"Is he in danger?"
Turning his head, Arthur studied his ex-Professor. The elderly man looked genuinely concerned, his normally cheerful eyes dark and somber. "I don't know," Arthur lied.
The Headmaster gazed back at him, winding the end of his beard absently around one finger. "Is he a danger?"
"Albus," Arthur said flatly, and Dumbledore frowned.
"It's a legitimate question," the Headmaster argued.
Those same, now constant images flashed through his mind and suddenly, he could see Bill – reading Charlie a bedtime story when the toddler sulked because Molly was busy with the twins and Percy. Coaxing Ron to eat when the baby wouldn't switch to solid food. Helping Ginny sneak off to the orchard to practice flying.
Disintegrating a deadly ward around the kids in his living room with his bare hands. Refusing to turn and look at him when he reset the protections on his house. Bleeding when Brand held a knife to Harry's throat.
Verbally eviscerating him in the orchard. Holding cold compresses to his forehead in the spare room at Shell Cottage as he lay there, broken.
"I know my son," he said softly, and Dumbledore smiled at him sadly.
"I knew Gellert," the Headmaster replied simply, and Arthur closed his eyes.
"Albus, I am more likely to – "
A sudden shrieking sound cut them off and Albus jumped in his seat, spinning around wildly to stare at his shelf full of random knickknacks. Nearest the window, a small brass teapot sat on a purple cushion, and smoke was billowing out of the spout. Albus went pale, shooting Arthur a wide-eyed, startled look, and the pair shot to their feet to stare out of the window.
Just in time to see Remus Lupin vault out of the front doors and race towards the still pitch-black Forest.
"Blast," Arthur muttered angrily, and he spun on his heel and made for the doors.
Lupin rolled his shoulders and sighed as he moved across the second floor of Hogwarts. He'd spent hours in the library, pouring over every tome he could find that so much as mentioned the Nail, and – nothing.
Weeks, weeks he had had the thing in his possession, and he'd been able to find little more than the common knowledge, unsubstantiated rumors that surrounded the artifact. It was beginning to become rather bothersome.
He scowled to himself as he reached the top of the Great Staircase, shaking his head. Maybe he should try to sleep for a while. Dora would kill him when she realized how many days he had –
An owl fluttered to a stop before him, and he frowned at the small creature, reaching out a careful hand. The tiny owl hooted feebily and thrust out its leg, shoving a small roll of parchment under his nose, close enough that the paper brushed his face. Remus chuckled lightly at the creature's odd behavior and carefully removed the small scroll.
We're here. Forest. Child. NOW.
His heart thundered in his ears, and Remus ran.
Her eyes stung as she stared back at the crazed monster. She'd heard of Greyback, of course, but nothing could have prepared her for the pure hate she felt coursing through him. The thing – because there wasn't much man in him anymore, not really – was almost gleeful in his fury, gaining true delight in the terror he inspired.
It was, Luna thought to herself, rather distracting.
"Hello," she said in her simple sing-song. "We would really just like to go home now."
The beast laughed, and Luna smiled gently at him. At her side, the largest foal was trembling, and Luna felt the little boy centaur straighten his back and move closer to her, the others still crying behind them.
"Sweet, sweet girl," another voice sounded, and Luna looked to the right to see a black-haired woman moving around the outcropping, her amber eyes shining in the darkness. The woman dragged her right hand along the rocks, her long nails scraping the surface. "There's only one place you're going."
And reaching out with her left hand, the woman swiped her arm in an arc. In a flash, four foals collapsed, their throats sliced open, and the were woman smiled, raising her hand to her lips and lazily licking the blood from her nails.
"Not. LUNER!" a voice roared, and Luna jumped as the ground shook beneath her feet. Hagrid grabbed a fallen tree trunk and swung, his face contorted with rage, and Luna felt a flash of fear run through the werewolf woman. Greyback simply scowled, diving aside, and landed in a rolling crouch as Hagrid turned and swung again. The five foals still standing backed away, the boy next to Luna grabbing her sleeve and tugging her back, and she stumbled backwards, her eyes fixed on Hagrid.
"You get away from 'er," Hagri growled at Greyback, and the creature grinned wildly.
"Oh, I could feast on you for months," Greyback breathed, licking his lips, and Hagrid snorted.
"Good luck, Mutt," he spat, and the gameskeeper took a step forward, raising the tree trunk above his head –
Then froze, his eyes wide, and his mouth hung slack as he gasped for breath. Behind him, a pale, slender being stood, its pure white eyes flashing. The creature's lips twisted in a smile and it locked its eerie eyes on Luna, then yanked its arm back. The smile disappearing, the vampire turned and gazed down at its hand, then held up its fist.
The heart he held was still thumping, frantically trying to pump to nowhere, and Luna screamed. In front of them, Hagrid fell to his knees, his eyes wide and sightless. He gurgled once then fell silent, pitching forward towards them. As Luna stared, stricken, the boy foal grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the way. With a thud, and a billowing cloud of dust, Hagrid landed face down in the dirt.
The sound around her muffled in her ears as Luna stared down at her friend. Tears streaming down her face, she moved to go to him, but the boy yanked on her arm, shouting something she couldn't understand. What did it matter? Why should she care?
Oh, Harry, I'm sorry, she thought desperately, gasping for air. A guttural laugh cut through the haze in her mind, and she turned her head slowly, fixing Greyback with a steely glare.
"So this is what it feels like to hate," she whispered, and the were laughed harder. She narrowed her gaze on him, peripherally taking stock of their surroundings. The centaurs were all scattered, fighting with other vampires too far away to hear, to notice, and behind Greyback and the creature clothed in black silks. At least a dozen other vampires were creeping up on them, moving to form a semi-circle around Greyback and their leader, with countless others moving up the path. The female werewolf had moved back, her eyes darting between Hagrid and Greyback.
"Oh, little lamb," Greyback chortled. "You haven't seen anything yet." Licking his lips, he took a step forward –
But from the side, something was coming. Luna stared as the sea of vampires parted, rushing back and scrambling over each other in their haste to get away from the path. She heard a sound like rushing wind then suddenly, a blurry figure slammed into Greyback, sending him flying across the woods. He tumbled, the form above him pushing him down into the dirt, and roared as he shoved the figure off of him.
With his own snarl spilling from his throat, Remus Lupin stood, glaring down his childhood attacker.
"Think your pet vampires will help you now?" Lupin hissed. "Voldemort may have ordered you not to bite them," he smiled viciously, his teeth barred, "but he doesn't command me." With another low growl, he drew his wand and jabbed it at the sky, and Luna stared as the clouds began to part. Behind her, the two littlest foals whimpered as the vampires began to screech. Smoke started to billow off of the vampires, their skin sizzling, and as Luna watched, they turned their heads as one towards their leader.
The creature shook its head, and they all turned back, smoke still rising off their flesh.
A chill ran down her spine and Luna wrapped her arms around herself, starting when a shadow fell over her. She spun wildly, sagging with relief as she looked up into the somber blue eyes of Ronan. The centaur leaned over her and the foals, his eyes fixed on her Professor and Greyback. His arms were still outstretched, his bow held taut, and the arrow pointed straight at Greyback's heart.
"You must go now," Ronan whispered. "Take the foals. Get to Hogwarts. I will cover your escape."
Luna gazed up at the centaur, tears still flowing freely down her face. Her head was pounding, her skin crawling from all the rage and violence that surrounded her, all the glee in causing pain. "I – I can't leave them, I," she began, and Ronan's brows drew together, his lips pursing. As he moved, the wind pulled on his side, revealing an entire strip torn out of his flank.
"You must go now," he hissed, and Luna swallowed, looking back over her shoulder.
"Careful, cub, you'll go feral like me," Greyback was taunting as the clouds thinned. Behind them, vampires were easing back, their eyes fixed on the sky as light began to break through the clouds.
"Luna!" Ronan whispered frantically, and Luna turned back, biting her lip. Her eyes burned and she nodded jerkily, letting out a shaky breath then turning towards her new companion. The brave little centaur boy held out his hand, and she laced her fingers through his and then reached out for the two baby foals. The smallest one, a girl, wept frantically as she struggled back to her feet from where she had curled into a ball. Spinning on her heel, Luna ducked under Ronan's outstretched arms and ran further into the woods, the three little hooved creatures following in her footsteps.
Lupin snarled, rage flooding through him as he glanced down and saw Hagrid's lifeless form on the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of blonde hair and Ronan nodded at him, face set. Luna had escaped with the foals. He nodded back and Ronan spun on his heel, following after Luna.
"What will your precious wizards think?" Greyback was whispering, the werewolf finishing up the same old taunt, eyes dancing with glee.
Lupin didn't bother to respond. A slash of his wand brought a tree branch hurtling down towards Greyback's head, and the werewolf cursed wildly, his face contorting with fury. "Your cheap parlor tricks again!" the monster growled. "Can't beat me in a real fight, can ya, boy?"
Lupin smiled as the sun finally broke through the trees, and the vampires nearest him screamed as they went up in flames. Then just as suddenly, a shadow fell over the Forest, and Lupin felt a shiver of dread run through him.
Greyback laughed wildly and Lupin turned his head to gaze at the Cult leader. The figure stood motionless beside the rock outcropping, his hands raised, his head tilted back and gazing at the sky. As he stood, a sudden wind whipped up around him, leaves and debris swirling like a miniature whirlwind around his frame. The clouds raced backwards across the sky, shrouding them in darkness again, and Lupin swore under his breath.
"Time's up, cub," Greyback snarled. His amber eyes were fixed on Lupin's face, a wild hunger in his gaze. "I've spared you twice already."
"I think you have that backwards," Lupin said simply. With an elegant shrug, he sheathed his wand and smiled at the monster, quirking one eyebrow in a silent challenge. Asena had backed into the trees, he saw, the other vampires retreating with her, and Lupin's smile grew.
Maybe it was good for something after all, he mused, feeling the solid weight in his pocket.
Then Greyback slammed into him, and he cursed himself, shaking his head as he fell into a nearby tree, spinning with the fall to keep his footing. Sirius would have had my hide for that, he thought angrily, shaking his head to clear it as his ears rang.
The other werewolf charged at him, claws out, and dug one fist into Lupin's side, his sharp talons tearing open flesh. Lupin grunted as the pain seared through him, breathing slowly and rolling his shoulder, then lunges forward, knocking them both to the ground again. He reared back and leaned over the older creature, ramming his fist into Greyback's face, then pulled back again and swung once more. A rustling sounded behind him and he shot to his feet, spinning in time to catch the vampire flying at his back. He picked the creature up by its elbows and flung it towards a tree, feeling a rush of satisfaction when it was impaled on a branch. The bloodsucker hung limply from the branch, it's mouth slack and white eyes wide. He ducked as a pair swung at him, throwing himself on the ground and rolling, and came up in a crouch behind them. A quick summoning spell sent two twigs flying at the creatures' backs, and he stood slowly as they fell.
Greyback was standing opposite him, his eyes narrowed hatefully as he panted, blood gleaming on his teeth. The predator stepped forward, his mouth opening in a snarl, and Lupin grimaced. Echoing through the Forest, he could hear a skittering sound, as though hundreds of spiders were racing through the trees –
"I don't have time for this," he said wearily, and as Greyback laughed, he reached into his robes and drew out the Nail. The older werewolf froze, the blood draining from his face, and Lupin lunged. With a sudden burst of strength, he grabbed Greyback by the throat and threw him against a nearby tree. Pressing his elbow into the other were's throat, he drove the Nail through Greyback's collarbone, smiling grimly as he heard the bone snap. The skin around the Nail turned an instant, ashen grey, then began to peel and crumble away.
"No," Greyback gasped, his eyes wide, and Lupin heard Asena's sharp draw of breath. "No!"
Lupin just smiled, his eyes meeting Greyback's, and he looked steadily back at the monster that had killed him, so many years before. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped his hand around the end of the Nail and slowly, painstakingly, pulled it back out, then rammed it into the other side of Greyback's neck. The wolf howled in pain, his breath coming in ragged gasps, and Lupin's blood went cold. Pulling the Nail loose once more, he took a step back, watching as Greyback fell to the ground.
He looked up, his face set, and his eyes moved over the semi-circle of vampires that surrounded him, all of them standing perfectly still, their gazes fixed on him. His entire frame was trembling with exhaustion, but he gritted his teeth, stepping forward as they began to shift in place –
Suddenly, Firenze broke through the trees, his hair wild, face frantic, and he spun, back to the vampires as he stared at the centaur. "We must go, Lupin, now!" Firenze barked, and Lupin didn't waste time, sprinting after the centaur as he dove into the bushes.
"What, then?" Bill asked angrily. "What does it mean?"
Neville smiled strangely. "Congratulations," he said softly, eyes fixed on the ring, and Bill felt a frisson of fear shoot through him. "Now you just need the Key."
"What?"
"The Key of Solomon," Lou said quietly, his face pale. "It is said to be Solomon's own spellbook."
Turning his head, Bill glared at his friend. "I thought you just said the monks didn't know how to – "
"It was entrusted to a student of theirs, many decades ago," Louis scowled. "They don't know what she did with it."
"What student?" Alex asked, frowning. Her purple hair fell over her faced as she spun slightly in her chair.
"Cassandra Vablatsky."
Bill stiffened, a flash of disbelief running through him. He looked up, meeting Neville's shocked gaze, and in the back of his mind, he could hear Percy scoffing. What would you have me do? Leave her to the Dementors?
"We have to find Audrey Munroe," Neville said softly.
"Before Voldemort does," Bill finished.
And before he could draw a breath, the ground shook, the torches flickered out, and the Map began to shriek.
She stumbled through the Forest, her skirt catching on roots and branches as she ran, tearing cloth and skin here and there. Beside and behind her, the small hoof beat patterns continued, and she gasped for breath as they raced on. Coming to a hill, she slipped, landing on her hands and knees, and Elias held out his small hands, pulling her to her feet. She grasped his hands in one of hers and squeezed, then lurched to her feet and turned, eyes fixed on the trees behind them.
"Keep moving!" Ronan roared, galloping behind them, and he overtook them quickly, scooping up the small, struggling foal girl in one arm. He swung her around and she landed sideways on his back, her hands disappearing into his hair to wrap her arms around his neck as she sobbed wildly. With a scowl, the centaur raised his bow, letting loose a flurry of arrows as the creatures came racing out of the woods.
"I can't leave Remus!" Luna screamed, skidding to a halt, and she stared at the trees, willing her mentor to appear.
"We have to go, now," the centaur growled, and Luna shook her head. Taking a step forward, the centaur glared harshly at her, and –
Two small figures appeared at the edges of the trees, and Luna let out a cry of relief as Lupin came into view. The centaur stepped up beside her, his face set as dozens of other figures followed on their heels.
"Time's up," he said gently, resting a hand on her arm. Luna felt tears welling up in her eyes again as she looked down at Lupin and Firenze. The vampires behind them were too close. They weren't going to make it.
So she tilted back her head towards the sky, put her fingers in her mouth, and whistled.
Help us, she thought frantically.
Sound faded again and she could see Lupin shouting something, could feel Elias tugging at her – then suddenly she heard it. The eerie, ethereal cry, the sound of air rushing through torn wings. She smiled grimly as the thestrals appeared overhead, soaring over the trees towards the vampires. With angry, haunting cries, the undead horses dove at the vampires, hooves kicking and teeth snapping, and Luna felt a surge of relief. One of the thestrals landed beside her – Chester, the one she had ridden just months before – and she pulled an apple from her pocket and offered it, jumping up on his back. Down below, Lupin had jumped onto another thestral, and Firenze was taking advantage of the chaos to gallop towards Ronan and the foals.
As the vampires and thestrals screeched, Luna held on for dear life, bending over Chester's back and burying her face in his neck.
He could feel it before he saw it – a horrible surge of energy, coming from the Forest. Swallowing harshly, Harry wrapped a hand around his Communication Pendant and focused. Neville answered immediately. He was at the fortress with Bill, Lou, and Alex, working on defenses. Ginny didn't just answer, she came racing up from the dungeons with Krum. Ron had stopped on the second floor, staring out a window over the grounds.
With his heart thudding in his ears, Harry moved to the window, staring out at the grounds. A huge, blood-red translucent dome had appeared in the sky, hovering over the entire school. As he stared, Shacklebolt joined him, his face set and his jaw clenched.
"Please tell me you did that," the ex-Auror rumbled quietly, and Harry shook his head. Turning, he drew his wand and headed down the stairs, stopping in his tracks as the huge wooden door creaked open, a blonde missile shooting through the opening.
"Harry," Luna sobbed, and he let out an "oof" as she hurtled into him, flinging herself into his arms. The slight blonde wept into his shoulder, digging her nails into his arms as she stood there, shaking. Over her shoulder, he met Hermione's bewildered gaze, glancing over at Greengrass for a moment before frowning. The blonde Slytherin girl was staring at the front doors, her blue eyes rimmed with amber. The clattering of hooves echoed off the stone steps, and as Harry stared, Ronan and Firenze galloped into the hall, their chests bloody and torn. Between them were three small foals, their flanks marred with blood and dirt. A pair of thestrals brought up the rear, smoke bursting from their nostrils, their tails and wings singed.
"Shack!" a hoarse voice echoed, and Remus Lupin appeared on the front steps, his already tattered robes torn to shreds. Harry gaped at the man, his heart thudding in his ears. A huge gash ran down the side of Lupin's face, he had a puncture in his neck, and part of his shoulder was missing. "Get the headmaster." The lycanthrope scaled the steps three at a time then crossed into the entrance hall, slamming the heavy wooden doors shut behind himself. Harry jumped in spite of himself, glancing back over his shoulder to meet the gaze of a stricken Kingsley Shacklebolt, frozen on the staircase. The ex-Auror was staring down at Lupin, his mouth hanging open in shock at the other man's appearance.
Turning to face Harry, Lupin smiled sadly. "Time's up," the ex-Professor murmured, his eyes flashing amber.
A/N: oh, I'm sorry, did I say the story was halfway done? I meant book 1 is almost over. My bad.
Apologies for the delay in posting. I'm a just a genius… I decided to move 2,000 miles across the country and start a new, very demanding job right after Thanksgiving.
Also, Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Chaunakah, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Festivus, National Cookie Exchange Day… whatever you celebrate…. Here! Have a horrendous loss and a cliffhanger! (Does it helps that I cried writing it?)
For my FFN readers, I know I don't reply to every review, but I want you to know I DO appreciate them. I love to hear your thoughts, opinions, and guesses. Knowing that this crazy little tale that has somewhat warped my mind is interesting to more than just me? That is a true gift. So thank all of you.
There's just a little longer to go in installment 1. Take a deep breath, y'all. And maybe grab the tissues.
~*~ALIBI