AN: I took quite a while to write this chapter because I didn't want to. Chapter updates might be a bit slower than usual because work is shocking at the moment. But please know that I'll be in this fic till the end.
The song for this chapter will never appear on a 'best of the 90's' playlist but it used to be on a surfing game my brother and I had on the PS1. It reminds me of happier times. x
Chapter 60 - " Windows down and music on the stereo."
"Friday 20th July, 1979
Nagini pools at my feet, coiling her body around my legs in her cold embrace as the Dark Lord lays out his plans and schemes.
He speaks to her. I have never seen a parselmouth talk before. Mother tells me that it is a clear mark that he is Slytherin's heir. The true descendant of the original snake-speaker. I heard stories in my child-bed about Salazar Slytherin and his conversing with the beasts from the Garden of Eden… and it sounded not so different from a leaking pipe to my ears. Hot air and hissing.
At first I didn't realise he was speaking to me.
I was alone and skulking in the shadows, the other Death Eaters long departed on their missions: My dear cousin Bellatrix off to cause mayhem and to kill some innocents, all for the attention and adoration of her master. Malfoy bowing and scraping, hoping that He will bestow something important onto him and elevate his position. Yaxley wringing his hands with the glee of torture and maiming… All of them I detest. Baitfish circling a predatory shark. And the Dark Lord spoke to me. The fledgling, the pup, the greenest among them.
He told me of Nagini's beauty. Of her grace and poise and her ancient and noble blood. Even his pets are storied and old… Nagini may be hundreds of years old, he tells me. A product of the breeding pits of Herpo the Foul. The first wizard to breed a Basilisk, the first recorded snake-speaker, from a time even older than that of Salazar Slytherin. She is beautiful, he tells me. She is… a part of him.
Up close, I see his face is sallow and flaking. His eyes are a burning, jaundiced yellow. Like he is being poisoned by his own dark magic. Yes, I think, you are as serpentine as the gargantuan reptile at my feet.
Perhaps it is because I am nothing to him. Perhaps it is because I want nothing in return for being his ear… But the Dark Lord speaks to me as if I am his equal, his son, his confidant. I see a faint flicker of the man he once was before the draw of darkness swallowed him. He speaks of his fears, his troubles, his obstacles. He complains about the swathes of 'yes-men' he has amassed around him and he detests his reliance on them to achieve his ultimate goal. He tells me that in his great cohort of followers, he has not yet found his Saint Peter, the one he can wholly trust and rely upon. The special heir that he could confide all his weaknesses to. He is an island. Not belonging to any of the ancient and noble families of the wizarding world. Shunned from both Riddle and Marvolo. He has no inheritor, no child to find comfort and divulgence in. There is no heir for The Dark Lord to create his Empire for. And as he paws absent-mindedly at his bony white knuckle, he tells me he misses his grandfather's ring...
Out of habit and confusion, I reply quickly that the Dark Lord has no weaknesses and he laughs. He laughs at me with his constricted, wheezy voice. He calls me a fool to believe so.
Everybody has their weaknesses, he tells me. Bellatrix's is her blind loyalty, Malfoy's is his lust for status, and Yaxley's is his sickening lust for pain. He tells me that he is yet to find Severus's and the comment makes me frown. I had not even consciously realised Severus had been at our conclave but I suppose he must have been…"
Circe looked up sharply from Regulus's journal entry, a little shocked at the mention of Severus's name. She knew that the two of them must have had at least some form of interaction, but nevertheless it still came as a surprise to her when she had translated his name from the old runic symbols. She turned a few cautious pages, looking out for Severus's name in few of the future entries, but the word that jumped out to her, again and again, almost as if it was taunting her, was that strange and mysterious non-word that had so far evaded her translation.
Hoh something something Ux. she thought again. The patterns and lines of those runes were burnt into her corneas. The sounds seared into her eardrums. And still she had no clue as to its meaning.
Another Herpo the Foul reference. Circe thought, touching a hand to the passage she had just finished translating. But as of yet, no mention of this Hoh-Ux thing. That must come later. Some time in Regulus's future.
Circe delved in her bag for the copy of '1001 Witches and Wizards of Note from the Past' she'd taken from the Library. The page on Herpo the Foul practically fell open onto her lap. All of the information Regulus had relayed in his journal was true: an Ancient Greek wizard from the island Cyprus, the first breeder of a Basilisk, the earliest recorded parselmouth in history, and from all surviving contemporary accounts, a nasty piece of work… Some of the later pages of his achievements, however, had been torn clear out of the book. Circe had looked in the Librarian's book of records to try and find out who the last person to check the book out was, but she had stopped searching at about 1969. It clearly hadn't been checked out by anyone recently. The vandal had taken the pages from the book many, many years ago… It was yet another mystery to add to the mountainous task laid at her lap.
Circe flipped back to the untranslated later entries of 'Icelandic Rune Magic', again seeing the strange word dotted about the pages of Regulus's journal.
Whatever it is, Regulus obviously realises something, or learns about something, and then can't shut up about it thereafter. It must be very, very important. Maybe it's even the reason he died...
It was just beginning to warm up at Hogwarts. The coolness of spring whipped through Circe's hair as she sat under the boughs of the old oak at the shores of the Black Lake. She was surrounded by a rather beautiful crop of freshly sprouted crocuses, encircling her in a display of deep purples and rich oranges. It was quiet as well. Too quiet for Hogwarts on a weekend. Normally, Circe would be able to hear the carry of voices from over the other side of the lake: students walking, laughing, skimming stones on the water. But on that spring morning she only had the sound of gently lapping waves and Regulus's journal for company, his words sounding in her head like a somber eulogy. Currently, thanks to "Educational Decree number ninety four", students were not permitted to be outside in the grounds of the castle for more than an hour at a time. Umbridge was making Quidditch practise rather hard for Circe to run, but that was the least of her worries…
She'd not bothered to change out of her Quidditch gear yet, but practise had ended quite some time ago. Their measly little hour used up in the blink of an eye. Had somebody passed by Circe, they may have mistook her for a student, dressed as she was, lazing about under the old tree, book in hand. But the lines of worry on her face and the pain nestled deep in her eyes betrayed her age. She could feel herself becoming more and more withdrawn. The weight of all she had been forced to go through over the past few months had steadily caught up with her. The DA now gone, Dumbledore forced into hiding, Dolores now made Headmaster by The Minister… It was enough to make anyone shiver in the bracing breeze that day, and shiver she did. The wound on her arm was beginning to heal, her fingers now able to grab at small items like a pencil or a hair clip with relative ease but the wound inside her felt like it was festering and rotten. Circe gazed across the waters of the Black Lake, thinking of her Dad and her step-family. She wondered what they were doing now. How their lives had changed now she was no longer a part of it. Now she was nothing to them. And she too had no one beyond the walls of this castle.
I wonder if Dad still gets up in the middle of the night to toy with my Jag… I wonder if he sleeps through the night now….
Circe realised, not for the first time since that awful night of obliviates, that she was crying. She touched a hand to her face once the pages of Regulus's journal began to spot with her tears, wondering how she had become so numb to the pain so quickly. It amazed her how her own body had tried to protect her from the gut-wrenching sadness that plagued her every time she thought of her Dad. She realised for the first time just how Severus had survived losing Lily, why he had become so cold and withdrawn. Because he had to. Otherwise the pain would surely have killed him. She understood that now.
A cold wind whipped up around her, scattering her curls all over her head and sticking her hair to her wet face. She picked the strands of hair off her cheeks, trying to pull herself together for her walk back up to the castle. She stood up slowly, trying to fight the nauseous feeling in her stomach as her head spun. Perhaps the sneak-attack crying had taken more out of her than she'd thought.
Perhaps I need a drink… or a nap.
She decided against the drink. The walk down to Hogsmeade was muddy and treacherous. And there was nothing of the special magic that normally permeated a Hogsmeade trip now the students weren't allowed down to the village anymore. Again it was too quiet with none of the kids hovering around Honeydukes or The Three Broomsticks. Circe remembered the days when Remus and her would walk down to the village and see the queue of students leading out of the Post Office's door and snaking around the corner of the building; All of the MMAP had been there to collect CD's for a listening session. Circe smiled at the memory of those happier times. When Hogwarts truly felt like home, when she didn't feel all at sea and utterly lost, when she had her good friends close and her enemies distant. How had she ever dared to be unhappy back then?
Perhaps the nap then… She thought to herself. If I can find the Cantuscope and get it back from the Room of Hidden Things, I could at least pretend to be in a MMAP meeting, listening to the music we loved before I drift off to sleep.
She tucked Regulus's journal away in her bag and walked like a specter up the slopes to the halls of Hogwarts. Her miserable and listless expression could have rivaled the Grey Lady herself. Again, she passed no one. There was no noise in the stone halls, not even Dolores's ghastly announcement system. She didn't need to broadcast her messages anymore; she'd won. Her elation had been plastered all over her face when Circe had walked past the DA that morning, waiting outside the Great Hall for their collective detention. She had avoided their eyes, looking at the floor shamefully as she led her Quidditch team out to the playing grounds, Cho amongst them. The poor girl felt awful for the part she'd played in the DA's discovery and Circe felt equally wicked for having narrowly escaped retribution. Yet she felt slightly better that there had been no great unearthing of her involvement in the organisation since their discovery. They'd all kept their mouths shut about Circe. They'd all covered her back for her. And now she felt an unshakeable, grateful bond between her and them all. Every single one of them. From Harry to little Dennis Creevey. They had all said nothing to Umbridge about her, not even in the face of detentions, letters to parents or punishment. Circe wondered if she'd have been as brave as them when she was as young as them. Back then, Circe would have begun crying if somebody with the slightest hint of authority shouted at her. Now, she felt like an immovable brick. So used to being bruised and used that she'd just adapted into something that couldn't be hurt or chipped away.
And now it feels like I've built up so much armour that there's nothing of the soft me inside it all.
The Great Hall was empty now. It was well into the afternoon and Dolores had exacted from the DA exactly what she'd wanted: a humiliation. A branding. Something that would forever remind the DA that they had been caught. Circe glanced into the Hall and saw the rows upon rows of desks, now empty but still sporting a single black quill on each tabletop. The blood-quill. Umbridge's new favourite "detention" activity. Just seeing the quill, lying so nonchalantly on the desks, turned Circe's stomach. Her memory flashed with that awful red spotting of blood on the floor of the corridor, when Harry had been marked by her pen before. I Must Not Tell Lies. She wondered what Umbridge had made them write this time. A similarly sickeningly ironic phrase? Something else vaguely moralistic that they would be marked with forever? The thought of their young, unblemished hands erupting into red, swirling letters sent Circe's stomach churning again. In fact, her stomach lurched awfully and she found herself running for somewhere… anywhere to be sick.
Unfortunately, the first thing that she lurched for was a suit of armour standing guard at the Great Hall's entrance. She snapped its leg off and promptly spewed into the hollow greave. When Circe was finished retching she looked up dizzily, praying no one was around to see her shame. Luckily, the hallway was still deserted but Circe felt giddy on her feet. She thought of going to see Severus but she knew that he and Harry were currently locked in an Occlumency lesson and she didn't fancy disturbing that.
The acute strain that Severus's father had caused and all of the memories of Lily his deathbed summons had churned up had made Severus restless and struggling for focus and concentration in his Occlumency lessons. Circe could tell his mind was on his childhood, on Lily, on school, on the Marauders. Sometimes she could see their faces and hear their voices in her ongoing lessons with him. She would snatch a fleeting moment of pain and embarrassment before being pushed out of Severus's head. Circe wanted to ask him about it but since their big argument after Circe had told him about the DA, she dared not press her luck. She was still very firmly in the dog house for lying to him but the war did not halt for their lover's-spat. But it seemed as soon as he was finished with Circe's lessons, he would be beginning Harry's. Severus was over-stretching himself. Exhausting his mind by taking them both on as Occlumency pupils. But Severus had told her of Harry's visions. How they were becoming clearer and stronger. How he sensed the Dark Lord's growing rage and frustration as he continued to search in vain for The Prophecy. Harry's visions were becoming more vivid, Severus's patience with him was growing thin, and it made for a dangerous combination of ingredients. One day soon, Circe rationalized, one of them would snap.
Circe held the greave in her hands, unsure of what to do with it next. It was full of her puke and it needed cleaning. However, as she peered down into the hollow metal, she noticed a small purple box now covered in her sick. She looked sheepishly back at the suit of armour she had snapped it off and sighed at his now lopsided legs. But her eyes narrowed as she spied the corner of another bright purple box poking out from the bottom of the suit of armour's thigh. She placed the greave down and wandered over to the purple corner, tugging gently on the box. She jumped back in alarm as a series of purple boxes came cascading out of the suit and onto the floor. Circe squinted in the dark hallway as she read the golden lettering on the box's front: "Weasley Wizard Wheezes Skiving Snackbox".
Oh bloody hell, that's where George and Fred have been hiding their goods… she thought with a small smile. The twin's rooms had been searched multiple times, but to no avail. Their puking pastilles and nosebleed nougat had gone undiscovered by Umbridge thus far. And here they are…
Circe knew that she should hand in the Weasley twins' stash of goodies, if not to Dolores to Mcgonagall at least. But she couldn't help but silently applaud the twins's genius. They were hiding them in plain sight. Right under Umbridge's nose. She had passed right by them when she had ushered the DA into the Great Hall for their detentions and still had no clue. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless and there was something in the pettiness and inconsequentialness of it that gave her joy.
"Oh shit, Freddie. We've been rumbled." a familiar voice said behind her.
Circe turned around briskly to find Fred and George standing side by side, their arms freshly bandaged up, staring at her with smirking faces. Her stomach turned again as her eyes settled on their hands, their new wounds no doubt laying underneath the bandage, but she couldn't help but return their jovial grin. Their laughter and good nature was just that infectious.
"How did you know to look in there?" asked George, pointing at the armour suit, more amused than worried.
"A hunch." Circe lied, subtly waving her wand and making the mess she'd made in the greave vanish in a wink…
"Are you gonna…" Fred began, but his voice trailed off. Not daring to complete the thought out loud.
Am I gonna…?! Circe thought to herself. Am I going to hand them over to Minerva?
"... You know what, boys… No. No I'm not." she said flatly. "In fact, I don't think I saw anything here. And let's just say I returned the favour the DA bestowed upon me."
Fred and George both erupted into a relieved laugh. The two of them rushed forwards and began gathering the Skiving Snackboxes into their arms.
"I don't suppose you'd know of anywhere to hide these would you, Professor?" asked George, staring at Circe with a face that shone with mischief. Fred too held her gaze with the warming, mahogany eyes of Molly Weasley. Circe rolled her eyes and motioned for them to follow her with a tilt of her head.
"As it happens, I just might."
The twins followed compliantly at her back as she led the way, pausing at blind corners, waiting for Circe to give them the all clear as they snuck their way through the castle with their armfuls of contraband. Mercifully, the castle was still very much deserted and they didn't see a single soul on their way to the third floor.
"Um, Professor… You know Umbridge routinely checks the Room of Requirement these days?" George muttered as he recognised where Circe was leading them.
"Yeah, Neville tried to tell it to not let her in but there wasn't time before we were all rumbled." added Fred.
"Mmm, I hear it was quite the showdown." Circe muttered, thinking back to the absolute scene of chaos she had snuck her way through when the DA had been discovered. "Headless chickens", Severus had called them and Circe was inclined to agree but there was no way she could feedback to them about their duelling performances without them knowing that she'd been there on that day. Yet she felt the itch of what she wished to say on her tongue and she had to fight against the urge to tell the twins how they could have correctly dealt with Mrs Norris... "It's a good thing we're not going to the Room of Requirement then." she added enigmatically.
They approached the vacant space in the corridor where the door to the practise room would traditionally appear and she paused. Circe looked around for anybody in the Inquisition Squad snooping around the place, but again, it was deserted.
I suppose they think they've bagged the big prize. They found the Room. They found the DA. Why hover around the corpse when it's already dead. Circe thought morosely.
"Um, Professor… are you alright?" asked Fred again, fumbling as he tried to top the purple boxes cascading out of his arms. "This is where the Room of Requirement is and I said-"
"Shhh!" Circe said impatiently. She closed her eyes as the twins both fell silent, thinking of that Aladdin's Cave of things that Severus had showed her. Circe heard the gasp of the Weasley boys behind her and as she opened her eyes, she saw a new door, an unfamiliar door emerge from the wall. The last time she had passed through it, it had been so quick and so fuelled by blind-panic that she hadn't had time to fully register it. This door was much smaller than the door to the practise room, smaller even than the door to the "shag-palace". It was dark, almost black, and curved into a high arch at its top. It reminded Circe of a door she might see in an old, gothic castle, like it had come straight from a film set of Dracula's abode. For a room so dizzyingly big and so full of items, it was almost laughably tiny.
"Boys… the Room of Hidden Things." Circe said reverently as she swung the door open with a dramatic wave of her arm.
The twins rushed forwards into the gloom, eager to set down their armfuls of boxes and look into the mystery room for themselves. Circe smiled to herself, happy that she'd managed to pique their excitement, and she followed them into the shadows.
"Bloody Hell!" exclaimed George, his eyes almost popping out of his head. "This was here the whole time?! Waiting on our doorstep?!"
"If it makes you feel better, I've been slumming around Hogwarts's halls for coming on twelve years now and I had no clue this place existed until recently." she muttered despondently. "I've still yet to find the hidden swimming pool." Circe added with a sarcastic drawl.
Fred and George in unison dropped their armfuls of purple boxes and sped off into the expansive room, disappearing behind a mountain of textbooks in the blink of an eye. Circe could hear their excited and happy voices echoing through the room as she made her way back over to the particular pile of goods where she had left her Cantuscope. It looked like there had been a small landslide of discarded plates and cutlery and Circe had to rummage through the silverware, throwing forks and cups onto another nearby pile, until she unearthed her beloved musical device.
"Ahh, there you are my love." she breathed with a small smile, picking up the device in her arms to cradle it close.
A loud clatter and a cry of alarm made her glance expectantly out towards the source of the noise. She could hear the faraway voices of Fred and George shouting and laughing in the distance and she tried to hone in on their noise, trying to find them in the huge room.
"Boys?" Circe called out tentatively, rounding a table where there was, indeed, the leftover St Basil's ice sculpture from the Yule Ball. She didn't stop to ponder how it was still unmelted and pressed on to wherever Fred and George were. She hoiked up the Cantuscope in her arms, pressing it close to her chest as she rounded another mountainous corner of furniture and finally saw the two Weasley boys standing in front of a magical item she recognised.
The Mirror of Erised….
"Awhh Freddie, you look so good in a uniform!" George chuckled.
"What colour is yours George?" Fred asked, pulling at his lapels and eyeing himself up and down. "Mine's green."
"Green? Nah, we need to go purple! Keep with the colour scheme."
It's here. It's been here all this time. This is where Dumbledore hid it after the Stone was destroyed. Circe thought, casting her eyes along the gilded frame.
"Fred, George… it's not real." Circe said gently, approaching the mirror cautiously and laying her Cantuscope on the ground.
"Nah we know. It can't be. Does it tell the future though?" asked George eagerly, pressing his hand to the glass.
"It shows you what your heart's greatest desire is." Circe said in a low voice, trying to keep her eyes downcast and away from the shining surface, somewhat frightened to see her own manifestation now. Would it still be her mother? Somehow Circe could sense that her priorities had shifted somewhat since her first year at Hogwarts.
"Look at us, Georgie! Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Set up in our own shop. Making money. Enough so Dad can retire and Mum can refurbish the whole of The Burrow…."
"We could do it, Freddie. We don't have to stick around this place any more. Now the DA are no more… Now there's not much happening around these parts…"
"I hope you two aren't talking about what I think you're talking about…" grumbled Circe, eyeing up the two young men critically. "Your parents would want you to stay and take your NEWTS and get your qualifications before y-"
"Why though? We don't need a bit of parchment to prove we could start our own shop. We've made a killing here, think how much we'd make if we were out in the world!" Fred interrupted Circe, a wild and mischievous look growing in his eye.
"And you think running a business will be the same as selling puking pastilles to First Years who want to avoid Professor Snape's class?" Circe asked indignantly.
"Pfft! Speaking of Professor Snape…" George tittered, elbowing Fred in the arm as his twin started to giggle too.
"Alright, what's the crack?" Circe asked brusquely, her temper flaring. "You two have been getting on my nerves with all the sly glances and little digging comments you've been pointing at me... When did Molly tell you?"
"Wait, what?!" spluttered Fred, taking a folded piece of parchment out of his robe pocket. "Mum knew?"
"Oh fucking hell, is that-" Circe asked, colouring a deep red. She knew that seemingly ordinary bit of parchment. But the last time she'd seen it, it had been safely in the hands of Lupin. "The Marauder's Map."
"We owe them so much." Fred stated reverently, touching his wand to the paper with a knowing grin.
"But…. but that's Remus's!" she blurted out breathlessly, watching as the dark ink spread across the previously blank paper.
"And Lupin gave it back to Harry before he was dismissed from here."
"So… why do you have it?" she asked, her head spinning with a nauseating dizziness again.
"We had the map long before Harry got it in his Third Year. He hardly notices when we "borrow" it from time to time, bless him." Fred said sweetly. "And after Harry's spot of bother last year, George and I have been keeping an eye on him and making sure he doesn't get into any more trouble. Used it quite a bit to co-ordinate the DA meetings too. Just to make sure no one unexpected was snooping around in the quiet corners or in the shadows nearby…"
Had it been possible, Circe's blush would have grown deeper. She felt like she was fire-engine red from head to toe. Her eyes bulged as she realised what Fred and George had been trying to hint to her all this time.
"You…. you've seen me and Severus together, haven't you. On the map."
"Indeed we have, Professor." George replied, his mouth twitching into a wide smirk. "At first we thought that it was a coincidence. They must be marking or discussing classes, perhaps… But then we saw you again, and again… late into the evenings, disappearing off the castle grounds at the same time, and in some rather interesting positions..."
"Y'see, before when we saw Ron's name next to this bloke called "Peter"," Fred jumped in. "we thought it was just a joke of the map or it was broken or something. But the map-"
"The map never lies." Circe completed for him, remembering Lupin's words to her.
"We know that now. Ron told us about Peter Pettigrew, how he was actually Scabbers. Or, y'know, the other way round. How Scabbers was actually Peter Pettigrew. Also explains why he was hanging out in Percy's room before that too…"
"So we knew to trust what it was showing us with regards to you and Anaemic-Keanu-Reeves." chuckled Fred.
The first thing Circe felt was shame. She'd been ready to scream at Molly for telling the Weasley children her and Severus's secret. But she'd not said a word. They'd figured it out themselves…
"Does… does anyone else know?"
"Professor! What do you take us for?! Gossips?" Fred asked, in mock indignation.
"And we didn't know for certain until about a minute ago…" George added quietly.
Circe scowled at him, angry at herself for letting her temper get the better of her. If she'd stayed cool, they'd never have had their suspicions confirmed.
"Well, Gentlemen… I won't mince my words. Plainly put, I ask you this: What do you want? To keep quiet, I mean." Circe said, staring at them both earnestly whilst her stomach churned uncomfortably.
Fred and George exchanged a quick glance and nodded to one another.
"We want your help."
"Help with what?"
"To pull the greatest Weasley Twin prank there ever was. Go out with a bang."
"Boys…" Circe sighed.
But Fred cleared his throat and tapped his wand on to the Marauder's Map with a raised brow.
"Tell you what, Professor. You agree to this and Freddie and I will make an Unbreakable Vow with you, promising never to tell a single soul."
"Oh bloody hell, boys, no! This is immoral of me as it is. Let alone with the ad-in of coercing a couple of underage wizards into a potentially lethal magical deal…." Circe said forcefully, her stomach tying into an uncomfortable knot again. Another witch may have taken up the twins at that offer, but not her. An Unbreakable Vow was not something to be toyed with and if for whatever reason Fred or George were forced to break the promise, she wouldn't have their deaths on her hands.
"So, you will help us?" Ventured Fred.
"I will... if you allow me to have my own form of… protection. Seen as I turned down your offer of an Unbreakable Vow."
"Fine. What "protection" do you want?" Asked George pragmatically. Circe found herself thinking on what confident and shrewd businessmen the Weasley twins would actually be. They were ready to strike a deal. Ready to be ruthless and flexible from moment to moment.
"Give me the Map." Circe stated plainly, extending a hand out to them.
"It's not ours to give, Professor!" Shouted Fred.
"Not to keep. Harry needs it more than me, like you said. I'm just going to… modify it."
George lowered the parchment reluctantly into Circe's hand with a deep frown. The twins both watched carefully as Circe peered at the inky illustrations and letters on its front, changing under her touch already.
"Messers Moony, Padfoot and Prongs would like to remind Professor Smith that her greaseball boyfriend is probably not worth all this hassle…"
"Oh shut up." Growled Circe. She pressed her own wand to the pages and muttered a small curse under her breath. "Lekeia Melani Afiro, Fred and George Weasley."
Once she'd hissed out the words, her frown relaxed back into her normal expression and she handed the map back out towards Fred and George.
"What did you do?" Asked George cautiously.
"Find out."
George sucked in a deep breath and lay a cautious hand on top of the map. Almost instantly, the whole page was engulfed in a rippling puddle of dark, black ink. Everything was blotted out with the ugly deep stain, until the Weasley boy couldn't even see the tiniest detail on the page. He handed it over to Fred, who likewise saw the ink-splodge emerge from his own fingertips and pollute the Marauder's Map beyond use.
"Have you… destroyed it?" George asked breathlessly.
"Not for everyone. But I have cursed it to completely blot out everything if you two touch it." She explained levelly. "That way, if either of you two change your mind about our little deal, you won't be able to pick up the map and show anybody your discovery…"
"So… Harry will still be able to use it?"
"And Hermione, and Ron, and Ginny, and anybody else... but you."
The twins both nodded slowly, seemingly contented with their side of the deal.
"So are you ready to hear what we've got planned?" Fred asked, after they'd folded the Map away again.
"I imagine it's something big and bombastic."
Circe sighed. "Will anyone get hurt? If so, I'm out."
"Nope. Only a wound to their pride."
Circe let out a long breath as she nodded. "Alright. What do you need from me?"
"Fireworks. Enchanted ones. They won't sell them to underage wizards."
"Right…" Circe sighed again, rubbing at the bridge of her nose, already regretting the deal she'd managed to get herself caught up in. "When for?"
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?!"
"No time like the present, Professor." George stated, winking mischievously at her. "Oh and we need the Cantuscope too."
"My Cantuscope? Why?" Circe asked, moving towards it instinctively.
"Can't have a show without music, Professor…" Fred chimed in, his eyes afire with devilry and defiance.
"Fine. I want it back unbroken though! Just… leave it in here when you're finished with it. Okay?"
Again the twins nodded. "Pleasure doing business with you, Professor." They stated in unison, both of them coming forward to shake Circe's hand. She shook back, a little limply, but strong enough to confirm her resignation to this deal with the Kings of Mischief. Fred picked up the Cantuscope in his arms, Circe watching, feeling like she was witnessing somebody pick up her child and carry it off before her.
She stood motionless as she listened for the retreating footsteps and excited chuckles of Fred and George as they left the Room of Hidden Things. When silence fell, Circe looked cautiously up to the Mirror of Erised, just able to see the top of her head at the very bottom of the glass. The strange, strangling sensation in her stomach ate away at her patience and she found herself striding resolutely forwards into the Mirror's reflection, a little irritated at herself.
"Come on then!" She roared into the glass. "You think you know me. Tell me what I want!"
Even though she had asked for it, she still jumped back when the scene of her desires played out before her in the murky glass of the Mirror: It came as no surprise to her that her father bled into the reflection first, standing at her shoulder and smiling with warm recognition. Then her step-mother appeared at her other shoulder with the same look. They knew her. They loved her. They missed her. That would have been enough to get her tears flowing, but then she saw her brothers, Alec and Tom, wrestling on the floor as she had done with them during her last visit. But the person laughing and play-fighting with them wasn't her. It was Severus. His smile, his whole, laughing, jovial smile was beautiful to see and she lost all the breath in her lungs when she saw that perfect, wonderful smile. She had never seen Severus look so unashamedly happy. Not a glimpse of sadness touched his eyes and they sang with a wholly different tune to the one Circe was used to seeing there. A tune of love and contentment and family. He was a natural father...
Circe waited patiently on the very top of Ravenclaw tower, looking down into the clocktower courtyard from many feet above it. Fred and George's fireworks sat neatly at her side, lined up in neat rows, waiting to be set alight and to play their individual parts in the spectacular show the twins were planning.
If I don't get blown off this bloody tower first. Circe though dryly, wrapping her coat tighter around her body as the cold breeze blew through her. God, if I spread my arms out, I'd take off like a kite…!
It was rather chilly waiting up in the sky and she could hear very little above the deafening roar of the wind. But even if the winds were quietened, Circe doubted that there'd be little for her to listen to. It was the first Monday of exam season, and the week was kicking off with the Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL. The castle couldn't have been stiller if Umbridge had placed a silencing charm around it.
*Crrk* Okay, Modfather. Mary-Kate and Ashley are ready to go. Over. *Crrk*
Circe's old walkie-talkie crackled into life in her palm.
*Crrk* "Boys, where are you? I still don't have eyes on you. Over." *Crrk* Circe spoke into the device.
*Crrk* Seven o'clock, Modfather. *Crrk* the voice in the radio replied.
Circe turned around sharply, realising they meant the seven o'clock position to her, not the time of day… And sure enough, hovering in the air and waiting patiently on their brooms was Fred and George. The twin holding the walkie-talkie gave a big wave to Circe.
*Crrk* "Ahh I see you Mary-Kate. Or are you Ashley? Which one of you is which, again?" *Crrk*
*Crrk* "I'm Mary- Kate, obviously…"
*Crrk* "Yeah, okay but which twin are y- Oh, never mind…" *Crrk* Circe sighed exasperatedly. She shifted a little uncomfortably in her shoes, rubbing at her aching stomach. She'd hoped that the steady, gnawing pain in her guts was just a symptom of the mounting sense of dread she felt about her shady fireworks-purchasing task or smuggling the walkie-talkies out of the Potions storage room without Severus noticing. But her stomach continued to ache even after she'd made it back from Diagon Alley with her armfuls of contraband. Circe prayed that the uncomfortable feeling would definitely dwindle after she'd managed to lay her hands on the old set of radios without rousing any suspicions from Severus. But again, no. It was still there. Right at the bottom of her belly like a vice clamp around her pelvic bone. That morning, she'd risen to find a few spots of a brownish blood in her pyjamas and had silently cursed the gods of fate that had given her her period on this day of all days. But even still, she'd not had cramps this bad for years...
Her stomach also lurched with thoughts of Severus. She'd decided to go searching in his classroom at what had turned out to be an opportune moment. The scene she'd walked in on was a veritable mess of smashed glass and upturned cauldrons. Circe had recalled the outburst Severus had when he had discovered her involvement in the DA, when he had thrown just one cauldron across the room. She could only wonder what had happened to make him leave a scene of chaos like that. Yet she had a niggling feeling in her stomach that the slightly shell-shocked look on Harry's face that morning had something to do with it….
I wonder if the "snap" moment finally came. She thought as she'd stepped over the gently fizzing puddles of potions that were scattered across the floor. She had lingeried for a small while for Severus, but when she'd retrieved the old muggle walkie-talkies from their tunnel exploring days, and he had still not returned, she theorised he'd probably left to go stalking the landscape to cool his temper. Like some great, black, pale Heathcliffe stomping through the highland hills.
I'm sorry, my love. But I can't wait here to find out what's happened.
There would always be time later, she theoriesed, to find Severus once his rage had quietened down and she could ask him what had happened without him diverting his anger on to her.
Her stomach stabbed with pain again and she was brought back to the task at hand with a sudden jolt.
*Crrk* "So, what do you want first boys? The fizzing whizbees or the careening catherine wheels? I imagine you want to save the Gandalfian Dragon for the finale…" *Crrk*
*Crrk* You would be right there, Professor. I think we'll start with the whizbees. Yes, Freddie?
Yep, Ashley agrees. Over. *Crrk*
*Crrk* "Well you better come down and get them then, Mary-Kate."*Crrk* replied Circe a little agitatedly.
The two twins flew their brooms through the vast and howling sky to the top of Ravenclaw tower, where Circe stood. Hopping off their brooms, they eagerly took four or five fizzing whizbees from Circe's outstretched hands, stuffing them into pockets and packing them under their jumpers. The twins had taken their bandages off for their little performance and Circe saw the bright red, raw, marks that Umbridge had made them write into their own skin: I must take things seriously. Far from wishing to hide them, Fred and George wore their wounds like a badge of honour. It would be a small little "fuck you" in the grand scheme of their great plans to come...
"You got enough?" Circe asked a tad sarcastically, raising a brow at Fred and George once they'd stashed as many of the fireworks on their person as they could. "I pretty much emptied Thackery's Firework Emporium for you two…"
"I think so." George replied with a wide grin. "Did you run into any bother? Did they ask any questions?"
"A fair few, but nothing that a false name and a simple hair-changing spell couldn't cover up." Circe replied, touching an explorative hand to her curls, checking to see if any of her hair was still bright blue. It had been a hastily put together disguise, but nevertheless one that had worked and she'd left Thackery's Firework Emporium with several crates worth of goods. "Well boys, I'd say "good-luck" but that would imply that I entered into this as your accomplice willingly." she added with an exasperated drawl.
"Ahh don't be like that, Professor." said George, re-mounting his broom. "You'll have the best seat in the house up here for our little show."
"And then it's on to bigger and better things. Mum won't be able to stop us joining The Order once we're eighteen and then all of us: Me, George, you and… Severus will all be colleagues." Fred added with a smug grin. Circe bristled with annoyance and scowled at him. "When we have been expelled, can we call you Circe?"
"You can call me Miss Smith until I've gotten over this little bit of blackmailery you've put me through today…" Circe shot back, pointing accusationally at the boxes of fireworks. She saw the twin's wince a little at her comment and their expressions changed to one of unsureness and embarrassment. Circe sighed to herself, not wishing to make them feel downhearted during their big "send-off". "But give me a discount when you've opened Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and we'll call it even, ehh?" she added swiftly.
Both Fred and George's face bloomed into a bright smile and after giving Circe a curt nod, they took off into the sky for their final display. She heaved the Cantuscope up onto the ramparts, giving it a twist just to make sure that the speakers were positioned just right for the Weasley's own personal choice of accompanying music. And then she waited.
At first Fred and George threw a few tempting whizzbangs at the door of the Great Hall, hoping that Umbridge would be drawn outside by the noise. But after Fred had thrown the fourth or fifth, Circe watched with growing agitation, thinking that perhaps the twins's plan wasn't as well thought out as they'd hoped. But then… the door began to creep open and Fred and George both shot off into the sky to hide behind a nearby tower. Circe held her breath as Dolores poked her wide face out into the courtyard, her head swaying from side to side as she searched for the source of the noise. Circe watched from behind the parapets, hoping she was hidden well enough, looking down nervously from her concealed spot as Umbridge came clicking out into the courtyard to investigate. The only noise bouncing off the ancient Hogwarts stone was the sound of the clacking pink heels. It seemed that even the wind had held its breath just in time for the Weasleys' performance.
Circe watched Dolores's prim little bow fluttering in the breeze as she cast her eyes skyward.
Come on, boys! Where are you? She's right there! Give her the what-for! Circe thought to herself, also desperately searching the skies for any sign of Fred and George. Umbridge turned on her heels and Circe almost shouted aloud, thinking that the twins had missed their prime opportunity. She watched with gritted teeth as the pink blob of a woman took a small step back towards the Great Hall and then a brilliant bright flash of light and an almighty bang rose up from the courtyard. Circe looked away sharply, covering her eyes from the stinging brightness and when she looked back, the pink blob was now a grey, black and singed blob…
"Yes!" Circe hollered out loud, punching the air in triumph as Fred and George Weasley swept into the courtyard with a melodious laugh that warmed her soul. Circe lurched for the Cantuscope. The show had begun…
"Now!" she shouted to the machine.
The Cantuscope blared into life. No pause, no intake for breath. No rattling and ticking. Just instant noise and crunch and chugging guitars. Circe almost jumped back from the machine with the suddenness of the song, but it was perfect for the Weasley twins's moment in the spotlight; unabashed freedom, spirit, noise and energy.
"It's all the same
Same old town with a different name
That's fine by me
There's only one place that I wanna be."
They reigned fizzing whizbangs on Dolores, circling above her like screeching vultures as they made her dance with the loud pop each firework made as it struck the ground by her feet.
"STOP THIS! STOP THIS! I WILL HAVE ORDER!" Umbridge screamed at them, hopping from foot to foot as the twins laughed.
One of the twins broke away from tormenting Umbridge to fly up to Circe at the top of the tower. She instinctively shrank away from the parapets, just in case any of the students, who had begun amassing by the Great Hall's doors, followed the line of sight up to the tower and saw her in her accompanying role.
"The catherine wheels now, Fred?" she asked, unable to keep herself from smiling and laughing breathlessly.
"Absolutely." replied the twin, extending an arm down to Circe as she passed the next round of fireworks up to him on his broom. "Good song pick, Professor!"
"I didn't choose it! The Cantuscope did!" she shouted up to him, beaming from ear to ear.
Fred took off once again to rejoin his brother and tossed a rocket to him. Circe crept to the edge of the parapet again as she watched the twins light the fuses and send the firework shooting off over the heads of those who had already come to watch and into the Great Hall itself. Circe did not have to wait long before another almighty boom of noise and colour spilled out of the open doors. She heard the rippling sound of shattering glass and screaming teenagers and wished she could have seen the chaos the twins had wrought inside.
"Southbound on I5
And windows down and music on the stereo
I'm drivin' and I'm dreamin'
There's no place I'd rather go
Staring at white lines on the side of the road."
Moments later, Draco, Crabbe, Goyle and several others in the Inquisitional Squad came sprinting out of the Great Hall, pursued by angry-sounding, screaming rockets. The crowd parted for them as they ran all over the courtyard trying to outrun or hide from the enchanted fireworks. Circe could see it all from her vantage point on top of the tower: How they cavorted about beneath her, snaking in and out of each other's pathways whilst the rockets remained hot on their tails, like a Loony Tunes cartoon come to life.
"Help me! Help me!" cried out Draco over the rippling laughter of the other Hogwarts students. "Aaaah!" he hollered as the rocket swept his feet from under him, causing him to slip onto his back in a dramatic fall that would have made Charlie Chaplin proud. Circe snorted with laughter, wiping her eyes of tears of mirth. Fred and George had set several off after Filch, each rocket colliding with his bony backside with a satisfying little 'poot!' and eliciting a yelp of discomfort from the caretaker.
"And that's for setting your bloody cat on us!" shouted George as another rocket burst upon Filch's bottom.
"Been on the road a while
I gotta get back to a place with style
Hang out havin' fun
I gotta get back to the beach in the sun"
She saw George approach her and again backed away from the parapets to hide from the eyes of the spectators.
"Finale time now, boys?" she asked eagerly, pointing towards the last remaining rocket that lay propped up against the parapets. That had been the most expensive item on the list Fred and George had given her and the owner of Thackery's Fireworks Emporium had gasped ever so slightly when she'd told him she wanted to purchase the "Gandalfian Dragon Firework". It was a huge, long, red monstrosity and Circe could tell it would make a very big boom indeed…
"Yep. Time for us to go out with a bang, as the saying goes." Chuckled Fred as he hoisted the massive firework over his broom. "Me and George will circle round and throw a few more whizbees for a bit longer if you want to watch the show from down on the ground with everyone else, Circe." The young man added, looking at her with a cheeky grin on his face.
Circe laughed aloud, in too much of a good mood to be annoyed that he'd used her Christian name, and she nodded.
"I'll run." She said, before turning to bolt down the many steps of Ravenclaw tower.
Circe trotted down the many steps of the tower, almost falling over her own impatient feet several times as she descended. Her smile was wide and her eyes were bright and she could still hear the slamming beat of the song the Cantuscope was playing even with several feet of stone now between her and the music. She burst from the Ravenclaw common room, having seen no one on her way down to the courtyard. No doubt all of the Ravenclaw students had also rushed down to the Great Hall when the first whiffs of commotion had begun to spread. She sprinted to the Hall of the Moving Staircases and made for the first set of stairs she could see. But Circe was brought to a sudden and grinding halt as a vicious stab of pain wracked through her stomach. Circe clung on to the banister for dear life as the stairs moved gently through the air, sinking to her knees as the intensity of the pain made her cry out.
Christ, that was a bad cramp. She thought when the stabbing in her guts had subsided back into a dull ache. She picked herself up, her heart still thumping in her chest, partly from her speedy descent and now partly from apprehension. She pressed a hand to her stomach and massaged her belly, a deep frown on her face.
The stairs came to a halt and Circe stepped off the staircase, breaking into a jog again. As she approached the Great Hall, she could hear the elation in the voices of the students watching Fred and George's display of revenge. As she manoeuvred her way through the crowd, she could see Flitwick and Hooch and a collection of other Professors watching the display quietly, choosing not to intervene and Circe felt a little better for having been involved in the prank. Even if they were choosing to passively assist, and she had been very much actively involved in the Weasley's plan, Circe nevertheless took comfort in knowing that her fellow staff were equally entertained to see Umbridge's demise. She lingered at the back of the crowd, and no sooner had she taken her place to watch the spectacle did a brilliant flash of crimson red erupt in the sky.
Circe gasped, again shielding her eyes from the brightness of the blast, but when she looked back up into the sky, expecting to see a firework, she instead saw a great winged dragon circling amongst the clouds. The dragon prickled with fire and light and every time it beat its huge wings, a shower of sparks would trail off its arms. Circe watched in absolute awe as the firework beast rounded on the crowd and made a dive-bomb at Umbridge. Dolores shrieked and began her futile escape from the monster, her heels trotting over the cobbles of the courtyard as the jaws of the dragon grew closer. She let out a final scream of terror as the dragon snapped its sparking jaws around her and had it been real, Umbridge would have been a gonner. The crowd erupted into shouts of joy, many of the students bouncing on their feet with elation. The dragon took off into the sky and with a final, self-destructive burst, it dissolved into a magnificent letter "W". The crimson light cascaded over the upturned, smiling faces of all gathered there and Circe smiled widely as she watched Fred and George high-five each other in the sky.
But Circe was wrenched from her moment of proud admiration when another excruciating, crippling pain seized her stomach. She turned from the crowd as her face drained of colour, staggering into the empty corridor just outside of the Great Hall, and finally sank to the floor as the cramps became unbearably strong. Her breaths became fast and short, her chest tightening into a vice grip as she scrunched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth against the pain. Circe completely doubled over, resting her forehead to her knees as she waited and prayed for the cramps to stop, or for her to pass out , whichever came first. She felt a rush of something between her legs and her eyes grew wide with panic.
"Professor, are you alright?" a gentle voice asked her.
Eventually she lifted her puffy and red-eyed face, catching her breath and uncoiling herself just enough to look around for whoever had called out to her. She saw Luna staring down at her with an expression that was etched with confusion and concern.
"Luna, you need to listen very carefully to me." she whispered through her gritted teeth. Luna crouched down beside her and lay a delicate hand on her shoulder. "You need to find Professor Mcgonagall or Madame Pomfrey… whichever one you find first. And tell them that I need them."
"What shall I tell them is the matter?" the young girl asked, a touch of fright in her voice.
"I don't know...I…. I..." Circe muttered, her voice faltering as she felt another gush of something hot and copious from her sex. She delved a hand into her jeans and when she withdrew her shaking fingers, they were covered in bright red blood.
"Oh dear, well that's not good." Luna stated quietly, rising to her feet and finding her calm in the frightening scenario she had been plunged into. "You'll be alright, Professor."
Circe began to sob rather uncontrollably; the fact that this school child was having to reassure her, her Teacher, because Circe was the frightened one. She nodded wordlessly, and Luna went running off into the crowd of onlookers.
It can't be... Please God, it can't be that. Don't let it be that...