Chapter 95 - "Each feather, it fell from skin."
The old oak tree by the Black Lake shook as the wind passed through its branches. Circe shivered as she felt the encroach of Winter on the breeze and she dreaded the thought of the nights growing longer and the daylight growing shorter. There wasn't enough light in Hogwarts as it was…
Circe could just about see the little island in the center of the Lake, all the way out on the edges of the horizon, where Dumbledore's tomb sat. She'd been forced to flee Hogwarts long before they had interred the old Headmaster there. The stark-white marble tomb was startlingly visible, even from a few hundred feet away like Circe was. It poked through the small collection of trees on the tiny island like a baby's milk-tooth sticking out of the ground. She hoped that Dumbledore was sleeping peacefully on his little island.
Circe often came to sit under the old oak tree and stare out at the view when she needed a small slice of peace. Not that she wanted to be left alone; most people avoided her like she was the walking plague. Loneliness was getting to her. Each time a conversation abruptly halted in her presence, or a terrified face turned and walked the other way when she met them in a corridor, it chipped away at her. Like feathers slowly being plucked out of her body. Small enough that she did not notice it at first, but now she was feeling the rawness and bareness of it. With Severus stuck up in the office for most of the day, sometimes Circe would go from sun up till sun down without another living soul to talk to. She had hardened her heart and built up the ice-walls of The Consort so well, that the real her was trapped inside and slowly suffocating from loneliness.
And under the boughs of the oak tree is where she came for a few minute's respite from being The Consort. Beneath the branches of the old, twisting roots of the tree, she found herself again. It was a different kind of loneliness to be sat alone under the oak, but it was better to be alone and herself than alone and playing the part of someone she hated. In her moments under the tree, Circe would close her eyes and picture a time long ago when a balmy, warm, summer's day had found her and Severus both lounging underneath that very tree. The two of them younger, freer, and slowly falling for each other. It seemed like a lifetime ago…
And if she concentrated very hard on that memory, she could just about block out the frightened, crying sounds of whoever was dangling from the Quidditch hoops that day...
If she kept still and quiet enough, the wildlife around Hogwarts would move about her: rabbits bouncing through the grass, red squirrels chirruping in the boughs of the tree, birds of every colour, shape and size, singing and flitting through the air. The Giant Squid too would poke its long tentacles out of the water every so often. Sometimes to nip a crow straight out of the air, sometimes to throw splatters of mud at the windows of the castle. Even the Giant Squid was rebelling against the rule of the Death Eaters in it's own small way…
I'll have to let Alecto and Amycus know it's not the children doing that. She thought to herself. They could do with one less reason to "interrogate" frightened little kids.
She knew she'd have to pick herself up again soon and make her way back to the castle. Morning "breaks" were a thing of the past as The Carrows liked to keep students and staff busy all hours of the day. They claimed it helped to minimise the chances of "incidents" or "opportunities to conspire". So, there was no such thing as unguided or free time anymore. Not for children or Professors. Even meals were conducted in silence and under the watchful gaze of Alecto and Amycus. Where there once had been Quidditch practise, there were exercise drills. Where there once had been leisurely strolls about the grounds or down to Hogsmeade, there was now a strict adherence to keeping the children inside and locked behind Hogwarts's walls. Where there once had been quiet and calm evenings in dormitories socialising and doing homework, there was now enforced "study groups", reading aloud from 'The Pureblood Directory' and other pro-Voldemort writings, that were monitored by the Professors right up until bedtime. It almost made Circe wish for the days of Umbridge's and the "Educational Decrees"….
But being the partner of the Headmaster had its benefits… Circe could sneak out through the Hogwarts portcullis almost as much as she wanted. Anybody who cast her a wary glance or a questioning frown, she would snarl at and they would shrink back from her as if she was a Basilisk. Today, she'd needed a moment alone, outside of the oppressive walls of Hogwarts. Because their orders from the Ministry had come that morning:
"All Staff at Hogwarts are to present a detailed history of their family lineage, going back at least four generations. Any Professors who are unable to do this, or presented Muggle relatives in this tree were to be instantly dismissed.
Regards,
Dolores Jane Umbridge.
Under Secretary of the Minister for Magic and Head of the Muggle-Born Registration Commission."
Circe had wanted to burn the message as soon as Severus had presented her with it. The only thing that had stopped her from throwing it out of the window of their rooms had been Severus's cautions. It would cause panic if somebody were to pick it up and read it. And the last thing they wanted was even more panic in Hogwarts…
"Dolores Jane Umbridge." Circe had spat at the name on the paper. "That horrible little toad has worked her way out from under a rock again."
"And now that "horrible toad" is after the blood-credentials of all of our Staff." Severus had muttered back.
Circe wriggled uncomfortably as she sat under the oak tree. The note from Umbride almost burnt a hole in her pocket. Thoughts of Dolores Umbridge made her feel restless. Especially if Dolores was soon to be coming back here.
But perhaps if we comply… Circe thought. Perhaps if we do as she asks, we can keep her away.
A loud bang sounded out from the castle behind her.
Oh no, not again…
Circe shot to her feet, her little slice of peace shattering around her. Gathering her senses and preparing herself for battle, Circe went sprinting from the Black Lake, heart pounding and cloak billowing behind her.
Oh fuck sake… what have they done now…?!
Despite The Carrows' best attempts to control every waking moment of the students' lives, in the last week or so they had been experiencing several incidents of "outbursts":
The first had come from Ginny, when she'd stormed out of a late-night study session Alecto Carrow was conducting after Carrow had scoffed at the Weasley family's presence in the list of the Sacred-Twenty Eight. Ginny had charged her way through as many study-sessions as she could find, snatching books off people and tearing the pages to shreds and setting them afire before she was wrestled away to the dungeons.
The second had been when Luna had been caught trying to sneak down into the Forbidden Forest, and when Amycus had discovered her in her nightgown, she'd thrown the scraps of food she'd saved for the Thestrals at him. It had taken a group of Professors hours to find her as Luna had woken up every portrait she'd run past, and set them all howling until the castle halls rang. Luna had been taken to the dungeons too when she was eventually discovered in a small nook that Circe recognised… a bit too uncomfortably close to the Room of Requirement for her to ignore.
And last of all, only yesterday, little Dennis Creevey had managed to sneak all the way out to the Owlery before Severus himself had discovered him, thanks to one of the mirrors in the Scrying Room. But not before the boy had let the entire owl population of Hogwarts loose to shit and flap all over the Great Hall. He'd been hauled down to the dungeons with a smile on his face.
Yet, each time a student was taken out of the dungeons, hauled back into the morning roll-call in the Great Hall, their smile was gone, their faces grey, their eyes blinking away the harsh glare of the sun. The fire and spirit inside them significantly dampened. Something about those dungeons temporarily turned the burning hatred inside them into cold, icy compliance. Students were now starting to call the sensory-deprivation cells "The Cooler".
Circe had only, so far, seen one student who had seemed largely unbothered by his trip to The Cooler: Her own brother, Tom.
She ran through the clocktower courtyard, able to hear the roars of dissent and the howls of Alecto and Amycus already. Circe had to stop for a second, just to let The Consort slip back into place before she charged into the fray. When her back was straight and her eyes cold and harsh, she continued inside. Just in time for a rather familiar looking whizz-bang to come flying out of the door, straight past Circe's face. A stream of orange and purple… She swore quietly under her breath.
Fred and George's leftover stash on top of Ravenclaw Tower… Someone must have found it.
"Get out of the way!" She roared as she grabbed at the shoulders of the students poised at the rear of the spectating crowd.
Circe pushed her way through the first few jostling students, but after a while the crowd parted for her, too afraid to get in her way. Whizz-bangs exploded every few seconds, filling the air with colour and noise, and each time the crowd of students would cheer with amusement when a firework went off. Steadily she forced her way through the atrium and on into the Great Hall, her teeth bared and her look menacing. The crackle of fireworks and the roar of children was deafening, but the noise that Circe's ears honed in on was the sound of boyish laughter….
She shoved away the last of the students gathered around the ensuing incident and paused. Alecto and Amycus were both wrapped up in the Gryffindor House banner that used to adorn the Great Hall's wall…
Arms stuck fast to their sides, faces covered, screams muffled…
At first, Circe thought that the banner may have just fallen off the wall and the Carrow twins had been unfortunate enough to be standing underneath it when it fell.
But the crimson red banner that smothered them both was held in place by some invisible force, and the Carrows helplessly stumbled about blind, unable to free themselves from their clothy constrictions.
Lastly, Alecto and Amycus would give a little yelp of alarm whenever a whiz-bang was chucked near their feet…
...by the three young First Years throwing fireworks at them.
Circe's mouth tightened into a hard line when she saw them: Lars Malmsteen, a dark haired, tall-for-his-age boy from an old German wizarding family. Jeffrey Beck, a wiry little chap who had a long hooked nose, crowned with a pair of thick, rounded glasses, and was as thin as a beanpole. And the last of the trio:
Tom!
It was all Circe could do not to let loose a long and hefty sigh…
Circe had seen the three of them together a lot these last few weeks. Lars and Jeffrey seemed to have taken Tom under their wing, to protect him from being jumped by the Slytherins and getting attacked for being a muggle-born. They moved together in a trio wherever they went. Never one without the other two. They still sometimes emerged at the morning roll-call with all three of them sporting fresh, new bruises, but it had warmed Circe's heart initially to see Tom craft his first firm bonds of friendship at Hogwarts. However, this kind of behaviour was completely new for them...
All of them had an armful of the whizz-bangs. Their faces lit up each time they struck the ground nearby Alecto and Amycus's feet and got a shriek out of them. They had the Carrows "dancing" for them. Each time the blind Death Eaters would stumble one way, the boys would throw their exploding fireworks at their feet and force them to go the other way, until another firework was thrown at them. Until they had The Carrows stumbling about like morons. Lars, Jeffrey and Tom were laughing so hard, revelling in their prank so much, that their armfuls of fireworks shook. Three big, grinning idiots. Three young First Year Gryffindors who were about to be in a hell of a lot of trouble…
Circe withdrew her wand and swept it over the young Gryffindors boys.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
All three of them dropped their armfuls of fireworks as their limbs seized up. The Great Hall instantly fell silent. The young boys all simultaneously crashed to the floor so loudly that Circe could not hide her wince, but there they remained. Still and stiff. As if they were no more than plastic dolls who had been left discarded on the floor.
"Wingardium Leviosa." Circe spoke quietly, lifting the Gryffindor banner from off the heads of Alecto and Amycus. Their enraged faces were almost as red as the cloth.
"Back to your dormitories… NOW!" Circe bellowed at the students behind her. "No dinner for anybody in this castle for two days!"
She hated having to say it. Hated having to stare into the faces of the horrified Hufflepuffs who balked at the idea of no evening meal for two whole days on the trot. But that's what The Consort needed to do. That's what Circe needed to do in order to stop Alecto and Amycus from imposing even worse consequences. It was just another feather to be plucked from her skin. So, Circe buried her self-loathing as the students shuffled away, turning back to The Carrows as they lifted Lars, Jeffrey and Tom back on their feet.
You idiot… You IDIOT, Tom. Circe thought, as she picked up the rigid little body of her step-brother. His eyes were still glinting with the spark of defiance.
"Reparifors…" Circe muttered, and all three of the boys slackened and went limp in their captors hands.
"You ain't gonna see sunlight for weeks." Alecto snarled at Lars.
"It'll be The Cooler for all three of you." Amycus added, tightening his grip on Jeffrey's sleeve.
The other two young Gryffindor boys had the good sense to look scared, but Circe watched Tom's defiant smile spread across his face as she held him by his collar.
"I wonder…" Circe caught herself saying aloud. "…if there's any room in the dungeons for these three boys after the influx of dismal behaviour we've had this week."
"What are you suggesting, Deputy-Headmaster?" Alecto asked, her tone harsh and accusatory. She eyed Circe up suspiciously, a viper poising to strike. "The Headmaster himself made it clear that there must be "sanctions" for little shits like these. We can't let them get away with-"
"I am suggesting, Alecto, that perhaps your "Cooler" will not be as effective a sanctioning tool if you're willing to dish it out for every offence to the Hogwarts establishment you find."
There was a pause for a moment as Alecto puzzled her way through Circe's last statement.
"She means, Alecto,…" Amycus hissed at his twin. "… that if we give The Cooler out as a punishment all the time, eventually they'll stop being scared of it."
"But we ain't letting them get away with it!" Alecto screeched back. "They tied us up in a flag and threw fireworks at us!"
"No, Alecto." Circe purred soothingly. "They shall not have their appalling behaviour excused, but perhaps… we need to keep our ideas fresh. This one's already seen the inside of The Cooler, after all…" she added, giving Tom a cuff around the ear.
"I'm not scared of the dark, and I'm not scared of you." Tom said pointedly, snarling right back at The Carrows.
"You little-" Alecto growled, advancing upon Tom with the top of his wand out.
"Perhaps…" Circe said hurriedly, stepping between Alecto and her brother. "I, as the Deputy-Headmaster, should deal with these young boys myself. Make them aware that this is not what we expect of Hogwarts students. I'm sure I can think of a fair few tasks around here that might get them reconsidering how they choose to speak to Professors. And might get them reconsidering just how scared of us they are..."
There was a pause. Alecto and Amycus flashed their identical dark-grey eyes at one another, some silent and sinister thought passing between them.
"Well… if that don't work, Deputy…" Amycus purred menacingly. "...you know where you can find the dungeons. You musta gone down there often enough when Severus was there..."
Circe blinked at him as Amycus's twin broke into a vicious laugh. Both of the Carrows were cackling by the time Circe had willed the blood to stop rushing to her face.
Alecto and Amycus were walking away before she could even stutter out a reply. She felt the redness in her cheeks turn to burning-hot, indignant anger. Lars, Jeffrey and Tom waited expectantly for Circe's temper to simmer back down. She let out a long sigh, like a dragon breathing out a hot stream of smoke. Circe turned to the three boys with a face of scrunched sourness.
"Right." She muttered at them through clenched teeth. "Do you want your detention to be gathering herbs in the monster-infested Forest, cleaning out the Owlery with your toothbrushes, feeding the eight-foot carnivorous plants in the Greenhouses, or maybe the Giant Squid could do with a-"
"Ahem. Deputy-Headmaster Smith." A prim, Scottish lilt interrupted her.
Lars, Jeffrey and Tom's faces lit up, as if their white knight had just come riding in to save them. Circe closed her eyes with exhaustion. She turned to face the voice and looked upon Mcgonagall with an exasperated expression.
"Yes, Professor Mcgonagall?"
"Am I not still the Head of Gryffindor House?" She asked coolly.
"What point are you trying to make?" Circe asked sharply. After the burn the Carrows had just given her, she didn't have the mental energy for another confrontation with Minerva.
"Well, I did hate to interrupt The Carrows and yourself, arguing over who gets to punish these boys here…." Minerva said, waving a prim hand at Tom and his friends. "But I believe the role and responsibility of the Heads of Houses has always been to manage the behaviour standards of their own students. Not the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professors, or the Headmaster's closest associate."
"Are you saying that I, as Deputy-Headmaster, have no jurisdiction over what happens to these boys?" Circe asked, The Consort fully taking the reins of this conversation now. "Because you will find that you are sorely mistaken, Minerva."
"I do not wish to fight you, Circe." Mcgonagall said softly. Too softly for Circe to ignore…
Minerva's eyes had softened. She had that same imploring look on her face that she'd had on the night she'd caught her helping Neville. She was trying to reach out to her again…
"Then don't." Circe replied stonily, looking down her nose at the old woman.
One more feather plucked from her, but this one seemed to yank from her skin with a deeper sting than all the ones that came prior. Something inside Circe cracked when she saw the very faintest tremor in Mcgonagall's lip. Whatever hope had lingered inside Mcgonagall for Circe seemed to ebb away in that moment. Circe almost broke character, almost reached out to the old woman and blurted out the whole truth to her.
She welded her mouth shut and cast her eyes to the floor. She needed to get out of here, before another shattering look from Minerva had her spilling her secrets all over the flagstones. Circe strode past her, full time the brim with shame and confliction.
"Take them down to Hagrid. They can do a few chores for him." She muttered to Minerva before fleeing from the Great Hall.
Circe had walked all the way down to Hogsmeade and back again to try and clear her head. She wished she hadn't. Some of the locals had been brave enough to spit at her in the streets and the businesses that remained open told her they didn't want her custom. Without the students coming to the village every weekend, most shops had been forced to close up if they hadn't already fled in fear of their lives, being in the shadow of the Death Eaters as Hogsmeade was.
Still, she'd managed to pick up her parcel from the Post Office before the searing gazes of the locals burnt a hole in her head: A vial of Deadly Nightshade. The first of many planned "executions" she had for Herri. If he couldn't die from disease or a strike on the head, poison was worth a go… when she eventually worked up the courage to slip it into his food. The thought of doing that to him made her feel sick, but he'd asked for death, begged her for it even. And soon, she had to step up to the task she'd made for herself. If she was going to help Harry, if she was going to bring an end to this war, she had to kill Herriculus. Just to make herself feel better, she grabbed herself an armful of chocolate frogs from Honeydukes before running out of the village. If Rosmurta or, heaven forbid, Aberforth, saw her, she didn't fancy her chances of coming out of that confrontation unscathed. So, she left the village in disgrace.
Circe was lost in thought as she trudged up the path out of the village. She walked straight past the spot where her and Severus had, once upon a time, had their snowball fight. Where he'd told her that he realised he loved her for the first time. Circe eyed up the large bounder that she'd ducked behind and skidded on the ice, ready to perch on it and rest her weary feet, when suddenly a strange, silvery-haired head poked out from behind it…
She gasped aloud as she saw not one, but two centaurs behind the rock. One, the silver-haired, Moon-touched Firenze at the edge of the tree-line, and the other, the beautiful mare she had seen him meet at the Forest edge many times. The female was more concealed in branches and shadow than Firenze, the details of her face unclear, but the fright in her eyes plain.
"Professor Firenze." Circe said, stopping dead in her tracks.
The female Centaur suddenly spooked at Circe's voice and went galloping off into the forest. Firenze watched her go, letting her hoofbeats fade to nothing before he turned back to Circe.
She could only see the human half of the creature from where she stood, but steadily his horse hind emerged into full sight too, clopping steadily on the ground as Firenze approached her. Circe stiffened slightly at his presence, straightening herself up and letting The Consort slide back into place. She couldn't help but cast her eyes over the burn marks seared into the flanks of the Centaur. His bright, palomino fur was scorched and blackened in places all over his hind legs, and Circe could not hide her wince when she spotted them all. Those marks were courtesy of The Carrows, who had made it their personal mission in life to try and see off the Centaur from Hogwarts. Firenze had endured some of the worst treatment Alecto and Amycus had to offer: calling him "The Nag" on good days, "halfbreed vermin" on bad days, poking him in his powerful legs with their wands and sending sharp bursts of electrifying magic through him whenever they passed him by, refusing to let him eat with the other Professors, making him sleep down in the boathouse, which they now called "the stables"... It was all to try and drive him back to his Centaur colony, and if it had been Circe who had endured that behaviour from The Carrows, she might have just gone…
"Professor…are you hurt?" Firenze asked her suddenly.
"Hurt? No…" Circe replied, frowning deeply at him. That was not what she'd expected him to say…
Firenze turned to the Forest behind him, his unearthly eyes scanning the trees for something Circe couldn't see.
"I saw in the stars that you would be here…" he said enigmatically.
"Yes, well… I do work here, Firenze." she said haughtily.
"With another though." the Centaur continued, ignoring Circe's little dig. "But under different circumstances. Perhaps it is not the right time." Firenze breathed airily.
Circe let out a long sigh. "Firenze, I don't have the energy or time for "stars"..."
"You may not have time for the stars nowadays, Consort, but they have time for you."
Circe stilled for a moment. It had been a long time since she'd had the time and the means by which to go stargazing. The stars had made her feel so calm and small before as she'd looked up at them. Now, she wondered what they saw when they looked down upon her.
What have the stars told Firenze about me? She thought uneasily.
She had been dismissive of Firenze's prophecies and ability to see hidden things before. And she had also been proved wrong. Circe couldn't help but wonder if the Centaur could see straight through her act. If he somehow knew that The Consort was a complete front. Severus too. Did he see right through him too? She felt a pang of anxiety inside her that somebody as ethereal and powerful as Firenze might know her secrets.
"I see you too. When I used to go walking at night." Circe said suddenly, perhaps as a way of trying to get one-up on the Centaur who could read the hidden parts of her like a book. "I saw you going to the edge of the Forest. Meeting another Centaur." she added, pointing to the place inbetween the trees where the female Centaur had been earlier.
Firenze nodded his head sagely at her. "Yes. Although I must admit, my trips down to the Forest have been scarce since the Acromantulas were incentivised against Hogwarts."
Circe blushed red. She remembered that day at the end of the last year, running for dear life through the trees, away from King Magnigog's freshly fed subjects…
"Who is she?" Circe asked. "The female Centaur you meet?"
"My mate. Venezi is her name."
"Your...mate?" Circe asked breathlessly. "I… I didn't realise Centaurs-"
"We do not. Not in the same way humans do. Our mates are bonded to us but we feel no obligation to each other if one goes to a place where the other doesn't wish to follow. I would not have wished for her to have followed me here, anyhow." Firenze finished, rubbing at a scorch mark that marred his rear left leg.
"I… I don't understand."
"When I was invited to take up position at Hogwarts, the Centaurs cast me out. Helping humans is considered a great betrayal in Centaur society. Even Venezi could be beaten and cast out herself if the clan find out she still meets with me."
"What? Why?" Circe asked.
"Centaurs are distrustful of humans. For hundreds of years we battled and fought. They killed us in the thousands. They kill each other in the thousands too." Firenze said mournfully. "And I helped them."
"Why? What good could you possibly see here? With us?" Circe asked, gesturing at herself.
"The stars told me I was needed here. I followed them. I went where they led me."
Circe scoffed and hung her head low. She thought of the beautiful female Centaur she'd seen Firenze meeting with at the edge of the Forest. How he'd given up her, his colony, his life, to help a race of beings who wanted to destroy everything they touched. Her eyes grazed over his singed fur and her chest ached with shame.
And this is how we repay you for your kindness and trust in us.
"Are you sure you are not about to traverse the Forest, human?" Firenze asked her again. "I was quite sure I saw it in your star charts..."
Circe shook her head. She had no intention of setting foot in the Forbidden Forest ever again, if she could help it.
"Perhaps you're losing your touch, Professor." Circe muttered deflatedly. "I wouldn't blame the stars if they abandoned us. I wouldn't blame you either if you took that pretty mare away from here and abandoned us too. Perhaps you should have ignored the stars and stayed in the Forest." Circe muttered, carrying on up the path to Hogwarts.
Firenze watched her leave, saying nothing. She trudged on up the path to Hogwarts until she was alone once more. Her interaction with Firenze left her feeling even more miserable than she had felt before. She delved into her pocket for a chocolate frog and tore open the packaging with stone-faced misery. Eventually, she found a secluded spot at the edges of Hogwarts's grounds, just able to see the old Shrieking Shack over the crest of the hills, where she sank even further into her unhappiness.
On an upturned old log, she sat. Munching on her third chocolate frog and thinking of all the people in the world that she missed. It was hard not to think of Remus as she looked out over the facade of the crumbling Shrieking Shack. Yet it wasn't that night of full moons, raking claws and animal-men that she thought of. The night she'd spent in the Shrieking Shack. No, she thought of that time her and Remus had stared up at the stars in the Quad outside the Staff Room. Drinking, smoking, truth or dare, confessions, kisses, insecurities… What she wouldn't give for a friend like that now.
I hope you're making Tonks a very happy woman. She thought to herself.
Next, she thought of Tonks herself. Somewhere out there with Remus, unimaginably happy in her new married life. Circe was glad that she'd got one final blissful memory of Tonks at her wedding day. It was hard now to imagine her in anything other than that strange yet beautiful white dress she'd worn. Yet, Circe knew that Moody's death at the Battle of the Seven Potters would have affected Tonks greatly. He was her mentor, her teacher, her idol. And if someone like Moody can die in this game, someone with decades of fighting experience, then it made Circe worry for her friend even more so...
Her mind somehow jumped to Odette. Her lost and brave friend, lying in the isolated shallow grave Bruno had shown her out the back of the log cabin. There had been so much she'd wanted to say to Odette, so much lost time to make up for, so much kindness to repay back… and now she could never have another moment with her. Circe felt her guts twinge in anxiety as she thought of Odette's children. She still hadn't received a reply from Hommehoughair and that worried her. But surely Severus would have told her if something had happened in France. If Voldemort's forces had taken over the French Ministry like here... Surely, also, he would have mentioned to her if something had happened to Rabastan, but the Lestrange patriarch had been oddly absent from Britain for many weeks now. He'd not been at a single Conclave, not in a single paper, she'd not seen even a glimpse of him since before the summer...
And finally, her thoughts turned to her father. It had been so long since she'd thought of him that the memories almost stung her. But now with Tom here, she could not help her mind from pulling up Matthew's face.
"I miss you, Dad… I miss you…" she cried gently to herself.
So long. It had been so long since the night she'd had to obliviate him. Removed all memories of her and of magic. And yet, somehow Matthew had found his way back into the wizarding world already. She wondered if the little fantasy she'd imagined in Diagon Alley had indeed happened. Had he taken Tom to get his wand? Had he got his step-son's robes fitted in Madame Malkin's? Had he wandered through that street aside Tom with not the foggiest idea that he had done it all before with his own daughter?
And then, there was the overhanging black cloud of her Mother. There obviously was something Matthew hadn't told her of her death. Something he either didn't understand, or perhaps chose not to. Her Mother's face was much harder to pull up than her Father's. Years and years of separation had dulled her features and blurred her face in Circe's mind's-eye. She tried to force herself to remember, to delve back in her memory for that time before her Mother died and she found it hazy. Intangible. Slippy. Like the mist on top of the Black Lake in the mornings. Circe had been around the age of ten when her mother had died, and she knew she should be able to recall more… She knew it was there, but she just couldn't quite grasp it. Circe remembered that it was sad, that her Mother had been ill, that Matthew had been a mess, and one day, she was gone….
It troubled her deeply that she seemed to be blocking out specifics and details of that time. But she theorised that it was perhaps because of the trauma that followed her Mother's death, or perhaps because her adult mind still found it too painful to remember that she consciously chose to keep those memories hazy. But she'd spoken to Severus about her mother before. Chosen to bring her up in conversation with him.
Circe had been staying with her Aunt when she'd been told her Mother had died. And up until now, she'd always assumed that she'd been sent away in the last few days of her Mother's life to spare her the trauma of witnessing death. But now, a niggling thought began burrowing its way into her mind:
Perhaps I was sent away because something else happened in those last days.
She chewed her lip and puzzled deeply.
Perhaps… Dad reacted so badly to Mum's death because… because it wasn't a normal death.
Circe hung her head low, staring at the grass-shoots by her feet. She felt plucked raw. Defeated by old hurts and wounds that should have been long healed. To think that her father may have hid something from her about her Mother's death was a bitter sting indeed. But what hurt more was the pain of his absence. The fact that she couldn't even speak to him and have it out.
"I miss you, Dad…. I miss you, Dad…" she muttered again, her tears rising.
A twig snapped behind her in the forest.
Circe lurched to her feet and had her wand pointed into the trees in a flash. The Acromantula legions had been pacified for the time being, now an ally of theirs was in charge of Hogwarts, but she still heard the rustle of spider's legs in her nightmares sometimes. She hadn't dared set foot inside the Forbidden Forest since the night Aragog had been killed.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry…!" a small voice said hurriedly, dropping an armful of wood to his feet and holding his arms aloft.
"To-...ahem. I mean, Lukather." Circe said, trying to sound firm, her wand still shaking in his face. "What do you want?!"
"I… I thought you might be… I heard someone crying…" the boy stuttered.
Circe wheeled around and turned her back to him. She hastily wiped the tears from her face as a new, fresh blush crept up her neck. When she turned back around to face him, she noticed a new, fresh cut running down through his right eyebrow. It seemed The Carrows had left Tom in the hands of the Slytherins before they'd dropped him off with Hagrid…. A bubble of anger formed in Circe's stomach.
"You know the Forest's dangerous, don't you?" she said sharply, trying to let out her anger in some way. "I know The Carrows have imposed some interesting punishments, but Hagrid should really think twice about sending you First Years off into the realm of Acromantulas and Centaurs."
"Centaurs?" Tom breathed, wonder in his eyes. "They exist?!"
Circe was silent for a moment. Sometimes she forget that Tom was a muggle-born and didn't have the faintest bit of knowledge about the magical world beyond Hogwarts. He'd slotted into Gryffindor house so quickly that part of her expected him to know everything already.
"Just… for pete's sake, stay out of the Forest." Circe said exasperatedly.
"We were with Hagrid, all three of us." Tom explained, hitching his thumb back into the dense and dark trees. "Professor Mcgonagall dropped us off at his hut after… this morning."
"Hmm." Circe grumbled. "And you decided to wander off from the group to look at a Bluebonnet Belching Mushroom on the forest floor, did you?"
Tom flashed her that sheepish, defiant smile of his. "I turned around and they were gone. We were gathering firewood for the dormitories…"
Circe sighed deeply and shook her head. "Well, at least you didn't run into any trouble on your way out. As much as you students might think to the contrary, neither myself nor the Headmaster want to see you dead."
The Consort slipped for a moment when she said that. Just a moment. Tom looked at her for a beat and then cast his own eyes to the floor. He fiddled uneasily with a loose twig on one of the logs in his hand, but not before Circe had seen the flicker of something recogniseable in her step-brother's eyes. Something other than intense loathing. It made her wonder if there was something deep down inside him that did still know her...
Somebody that still wanted and needed his sister..
Circe cleared her throat. There was no way the obliviation spells had failed. She was just feeling emotional and upset. Swiftly building up her wall of ice again and letting the Consort take the reins once more, she held her chin up haughtily and looked at Tom as if he were an insec.
"Come. I'll take you back up to the castle. You've caused us all enough trouble today without having us launch a search party for you."
Circe turned from the boy and began striding up the path back to Hogwarts. Tom fell in compliantly at her side, doing his best not to drop any of his logs.
A few painful moments of silence passed before Tom said:
"I noticed that you tried to get us all out of The Cooler." he muttered to her, in a tone that was something approaching appreciative. "I don't mind it much, but Lars and Jeffrey would hate it."
"You notice a lot, don't you." Circe responded icily.
She tried not to show her trepidation that Tom was speaking to her now not with fear and wariness, but more understanding and patience. It didn't make sense. Tom had seen all that The Consort had allowed to happen to students in Hogwarts. He should hate her. Pointblank refuse to speak a word to her like every other person in the castle.
"Well, my Dad says it's important to notice when someone's kind. Otherwise all the bad stuff will keep you up at night."
"Dad?"
The word hit Circe like a brick to the head.
"Well, my step-dad, I should say. But I call Matthew "Dad" and he doesn't seem to mind. He never had any kids of his own anyway. And my brother, Alec started doing it too after he and Mum got married last year."
Dad and Jane… got properly married last year… Circe was left speechless. Her throat bobbed as emotion welled up inside her. So much… we're missing so much of each other's lives.
"You... " Circe uttered, trying to summon words from out of her constricting windpipe. "You aren't as bothered by The Cooler as the others. Why?"
"I… I'm a little brother. I'm used to waiting my turn for things."
Circe scoffed. She did, of course, remember the rip-roaring arguments he and Alec used to get into over the Scalextric set, but she sensed his lie. "Alright, don't tell me the truth then. It'll be no matter, The Carrows will find out eventually and find something worse for you."
"Maybe." Tom said with a shrug. "But it'll be worth it".
"Worth it?" Circe asked, her brows knitting together. "What are you talking about? Worth what?"
"Nothing! Nothing… I… I mean, just to stick it to The Carrows…."
Circe was silent, her limbs freezing up. She'd known Tom for most of his life, and she knew when he was trying to cover something up...
There had been too many hands caught in the Jaffa Cakes box or hidden toys in Windmill Way for Circe not to recognise that look. She searched the young boy's face and had her suspicions confirmed when Tom avoided her gaze. He had been so chatty a moment ago, and now was deathly silent. Circe narrowed her eyes at him, her thoughts going into overdrive.
All the "outbursts" that had been happening recently. Ginny, Luna, Dennis, Tom this morning… They all seemed so sudden, so explosive. All of them acting out in ways that Icrce had never seen any of them do before. Pointlessly raging against the machine they found themselves a cog in….
Unless… Circe thought as a chill crept up her spine. Unless they weren't pointless outbursts at all...
"Who… Who did you say you thought I was? When you saw me at the edge of the Forest?" Circe asked him, staring at him with narrow eyes.
"What?" Tom asked, colouring a deep red.
"When you found me, you said "I thought you were…". Who did you think I was?"
"H-Hagrid. I thought you were Hagrid."
"Come on, I know I've put on a bit of weight recently." Circe said sarcastically, patting her taut stomach. "But I don't think that anyone would mistake me for a hairy, half-giant, monster of a man!"
"I dunno." Tom said evasively. "Just… someone."
Circe gritted her jaw. He definitely was hiding something.
"And your outburst this morning. I must admit that Gryffindors are often a moronic bunch, but attacking a Professor by tying them up and lobbing fireworks at them… did you really expect not to get caught?"
Tom didn't answer, staring at the ground as the castle loomed in front of them. Circe stepped in front of him. The boy's armful of logs crashed into her chest but she held firm.
"Unless, of course…" Circe breathed. "You wanted to get caught."
Tom looked up at her with wide and frightened eyes. He was almost trembling. Circe raised a single brow at him, keeping the air between them tense and agonising. His mouth parted slightly, a whisper of breath escaping past his lips.
"TOM!" a duo of voices shouted behind her.
Circe wheeled around to see Lars and Jeffery running towards them, their arms similarly laden with wood, just like her step-brother's. The logs clacked together as the two Gryffindor boys sprinted at them.
"There you are!" Jeffrey said breathlessly. "Hagrid brought us back to his Hut 'cause he thought he had to get his crossbow!"
"He was going to go back into the Forest to look for you." Lars added. His voice was deeper and softer than most boys in First Year. "He thought perhaps he needed to get you back from the Spiders."
Circe looked into the near distance and saw a faint orange light flickering in Hagrid's Hut. When she strained her ears, Circe thought she could hear the sound of pots and pans being moved around. No doubt Hagrid was rifling through his cupboards searching for this "crossbow" Jeffrey had mentioned…
"Ugh. You boys better run and tell Hagrid that there's no need to go charging into the nest of King Magnigog. I'd hate to have another Acromantula attack on the castle…" Circe said wearily.
Tom took the opportunity to escape from under the searing gaze of the Deputy-Headmaster and ran straight in between his two mates, knocking their shoulders as he barged past and sending their logs flying. But even after their shouts of distress and annoyance at him, Tom did not halt or turn back. Circe watched him run from her as if he were running away from King Magnigog himself, suspicion bubbling inside her gut like hot cola.
She remained stony and silent as Lars and Jeffrey ran back to Hagrid's Hut, after Tom. Strange things were afoot amongst the children at Hogwarts. Things that involved Tom. Things that perhaps involved the old members of Dumbledore's Army. She prayed that it was nothing too serious and that she was a paranoid, mistaken, lonely woman. Because if and when she discovered what it was they were up to, The Consort may have to be the one to bring an end to it…