The dim light reflected on a smooth moving surface. Shining metal bars and dark stone came into view… A hiss behind me made me turn… I was trapped between never-ending darkness and the flashing eyes of Nagini. Slowly yet inexorably, my father's snake moved in my direction… It was dark, yet I could see objects shimmering in strange colours around her slithering body… Nagini turned her head… At first glance the corridor was empty… but no… a man was sitting on the floor… Panic rose at once… Nagini put out her tongue as unrelentless coldness overwhelmed me… The man was stirring now. He towered over Nagini, wand in hand… She hissed once more… Nagini reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times… Fangs ripped open his skin. Blood was splattering on to the floor… The man yelled in pain and slumped backwards against the wall… Despite the dim light, I caught a glimpse of his face…
I opened my eyes. Every inch of my body was covered in icy sweat. I was panting heavily when I sat up in bed. My hands were trembling. I had seen Mr. Weasley. I had seen Nagini attacking him. Every fibre of my body told my mind that this had not been a dream. It had felt like the dreams I had had about the graveyard last year.
"Severus," I whispered to myself. Frantically, I climbed out of bed. I needed several attempts to put on my slippers. My hands were trembling and my feet were so cold that I could not even feel them. On shaking legs, I left the dorm and stumbled down the stairs. My heart was hammering against my ribcage.
It was freezing cold in the castle. My drenched shirt and thin pyjama trousers provided no warmth in the cold winter air. In my panic, I almost fell down the stairs. There were so many, they did not seem to end. Again and again I saw how Mr. Weasley was attacked. He was gravely injured. Nagini was lethal, not only because of the snake venom but also because my father had altered her poison with Dark Magic.
I was trembling with fear when I finally reached Severus' office door. A shaking hand grabbed the handle but the door was locked. Panting, I leaned my heavy body against it and banged my numb hand against the wooden door. The sound of it resounded awfully loud in the silence of the night but I could not have cared less. The door was ripped open and my freezing body stumbled into the room. I fell hard on my knees but no pain rushed through my legs. The door shut loudly behind me.
"Arya," Severus asked confused and crouched in front of me. I tried to get back on my feet but Severus gripped my arms firmly. He frowned when he saw my panicked expression. "What happ-"
"Mr. Weasley – I don't know where, but – There's been an attack – Nagini - He needs help or he'll die," I grabbed Severus's forearm, my fingers digging in his sleeve. My voice was shaking with fear. "Please, help him! He can't die, he can't."
"You need to calm down, Arya," Severus urged me, but my mind refused to listen.
"No, he needs help now. Nagini is lethal and she bit him… several times. I saw it. I just saw it," I pleaded him to understand. Severus furrowed his eyebrows and raised one hand to cup my cheek. I panicked even more when Severus' face showed no sign of distress. Instead a stern expression settled on his features.
"Listen to me, Arya. No, listen to me," he said as I attempted to interrupt him once more. "Tell me what happened."
I took a shaking breath but my nerves did not calm so I closed my eyes briefly. Parts of the brutal attack flashed in my mind. Whimpering, I opened my eyes again and cast Severus a pleading look to understand the urgency.
"Mr. Weasley… I had a dream. Nagini attacked him and now he's severely injured… You have to believe me. I don't know where or why but this dream… it was like those I had last year about my father's return," I clasped the front of Severus' frock coat with shaking hands as icy tears ran down my cheeks. "Please, Severus, you must believe me. You refused to believe me last year but I beg you to trust me now. Please!"
Severus cupped my face with his hands and black eyes bore intensely in mine. "I believe you, Arya. I trust you."
"We must help him or he dies, Severus," I whispered frightened and a shiver rushed through my entire body. Severus nodded curtly and pulled me to my feet. Anxiously, I bore my nails deeply in my marked forearm when he pointed his wand at me and cast a non-verbal spell. Instantly, my body turned warmer but my bones still felt like ice.
"Come, we must go to the Headmaster," Severus urged and placed a hand on my back to guide me towards the door.
"I don't know where he is – Mr. Weasley I mean," panic evident in my voice, I turned to Severus who pushed me out of his office. My breaths emitted steams in the chilling air and I forced my numb legs to move faster.
"I do," Severus said grimly and led me all the stairs up to the Headmaster's office. My emotions whirled wildly through my heart. Fear that it could already be too late had settled in my bones and rendered Severus' warming charm useless. And why did Severus know where Mr. Weasley was if he knew nothing about the attack?
I was so overwhelmed by my emotions that I walked into Severus when he came to an abrupt halt. Feeling utterly confused, I blinked when his hand on my shoulder propelled me back to my senses. The serious expression on Severus' face frightened me, but before I could even open my mouth to apologise, he had already turned back to the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
"Fizzing Whizzbee," snapped Severus sharply. The gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside. The wall behind it split in two to reveal a stone staircase. Severus' gaze flickered to me before he climbed the steps and I followed as fast as my frozen legs could carry me. Without hesitation or bothering to rap the knocker, Severus opened the door to the Headmaster's office.
"Severus," said Dumbledore, sounding slightly confused at the unexpected visit in the middle of the night. The Headmaster's lips tightened when his eyes fell on me. I found myself at a loss for words when I saw Harry and Ron sitting at Dumbledore's desk. Why were they here? With wide eyes, I noticed that Harry looked just as dishevelled and shocked as I felt. Was it possible that–
"Headmaster," Severus interrupted my thoughts and swiftly moved closer towards his employee. I hurried to follow him, my eyes flickering from Harry and Ron to Dumbledore and back to my confused friends. "Ms. Jackson witnessed–"
"An attack on Arthur Weasley," interrupted Dumbledore him sharply. Piercing, blue eyes flickered to me and I nodded. Surprise and anxiety turned my body even colder. "Yes, Harry has witnessed it as well. Mr. Weasley has been found and brought to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries."
"How is he," I asked quietly and wrung my trembling hands. Before the Headmaster could reply there was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.
"Ah, it is Fawkes' warning," muttered Dumbledore and turned to Severus with a hard look. "Minerva left to wake the other Weasley children. Professor Umbridge must know they're out of their beds… Severus, go and head off – tell her any story."
"What about Ms. Jackson and Mr. Potter," asked Severus softly. Although he did not look at me, I could see the concern in the way he pressed his lips in a thin line.
"They will leave the castle as well," the Headmaster said calmly and cast Severus a stern look.
Nervously, I glanced up and saw how he clenched his jaw. He clearly did not like the idea of me leaving so spontaneously because of an attack that my father had ordered. I suspected that our last discussion concerning my father was still at the forefront of his mind. My heart ached to step closer to Severus, to wrap my arms around him and to tell him not to worry.
Instead I had to watch how he nodded curtly at the Headmaster and turned around. Our eyes met for a short moment and I saw all the worries and fears in the depths of his gaze. My soul was reaching out to him, but before I could react Severus rushed past me. I closed my eyes briefly as the feint scent of potions washed over me. If I had felt cold before, the temperature in my body dropped even further when the door closed with a click. I felt terribly alone all the sudden – alone and frightened.
I remained quiet as Dumbledore said something to us. My ears perceived his words, but my brain could not process them. Concern settled in my heart when I was waiting for anything to happen. I wrapped my arms around my body as flashes of the dream replayed in my mind. Mr. Weasley could not die. The mere thought froze the blood in my veins. He did not deserve to die. The Weasleys did not deserve to lose their father. He was a kind and good man.
I was lost in thoughts when I extended a hand to touch the Portkey that would bring us to Grimmauld Place. I had not even listened as to why we were going there nor why Harry and I had been allowed to leave Hogwarts if our safety had been so important during summer. The rest of the night dragged itself while we were sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Sirius and Harry were casting each other glances now and then. Ron, Ginny, Fred and George remained quiet and dozed off in their seats. At some point our luggage arrived, allowing us to change. Again, we found ourselves waiting for anything to happen. My mind bombarded me with the sound of fangs ripping Mr. Weasley's skin open, with the splashing of blood and Mr. Weasley's cries of pain…
I became suddenly away of my surroundings when we were finally allowed to go to St. Mungo's Hospital. Mrs. Weasley had sent a message saying that Mr. Weasley was in a critical state despite the Healers' attempts to heal him. The letter had only added to the clawing fear in my body and all I wanted was for Severus to be with me. The thought that I might not see him again until after Christmas left me slightly nauseated.
"You alright there, Arya," Tonks appeared at my side and smiled comfortingly. I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and forced myself to nod. I had not said anything since I had arrived at Grimmauld Place nor had I answered any questions concerning how I had known about the attack.
I followed the group of people in front of me, led by Mrs. Weasley, through a narrow corridor. Alastor Moody was flanking Harry's left side while Remus Lupin followed quietly at my side. Despite my dread, curiosity peaked as my gaze trailed over the many portraits of famous Healers. Witches and Wizards in lime-green robes walked in and out of the doors they passed. A foul-smelling yellow gas wafted into the passageway and I wrinkled my nose. Every now and then I heard a distant wailing.
"Ah, Mrs. Weasley," a wizard wearing lime-green robes greeted her tiredly. Upon stepping closer I noticed his concerned expression and the curiosity about this place quickly vanishing.
"My name is Mr. Smethwyck's. I'm the Healer-in-Charge," the middle-aged man shook Mrs. Weasley's hand. Then he pulled the clipboard from under his arm and his face darkened. Mrs. Weasley wrung her hands nervously. The fear in her eyes was overwhelming enough to make my eyes sting.
"I'm afraid your husband's condition has become worse. Snake poisons are usually something that can be treated, but this poison is laced with Dark Magic which counteracts every potion and spell we use. It's of an unusual kind that keeps his wounds open. We have Magizoologists and Potioneers currently studying the poison, but for the time being there is nothing we can do except reducing Mr. Weasley's pain."
Coldness enwrapped my heart and I could no longer listen to what the Healer was saying. So Mr. Weasley's life was in danger… because of my father. Thoughtfully I watched the Weasley children as they took in the bad news. Mrs. Weasley was holding Ginny tightly at her side, the younger girl's eyes wide as she stared at the Healer. The twins were standing close, their shoulders touching as if seeking comfort in each other's presence. Ron looked sickly pale and I noticed that his hands were trembling slightly. A sigh left my nose and I swallowed. What if Mr. Weasley– No. I could not think about the possibility. I suddenly remembered the boggart Mrs. Weasley had faced at Grimmauld Place this summer. It had taken the form of Mr. Weasley, dead. Surely the Healers could help him somehow. They had to.
"Arya," Mrs. Weasley's voice broke. My head snapped up to see the group of Weasleys and Harry heading in direction of the door to Mr. Weasley's room. Hesitantly, I followed them.
The room was small and rather dingy, as the only window was narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Mr. Weasley was alone in the room although there were two more beds. I swallowed when my gaze fell on the sickly pale figure that was propped up on several pillows. The closer I came, the lower sank my heart. The darkness radiating from his body was palpable.
"Hello Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said, bending down to kiss his cheek and looking anxiously into his face. His eyelids fluttered open and he smiled lovingly at his wife. I could not help but smile at their genuine affection.
"Mollywobbles, it's good to see you," Mr. Weasley sighed relieved. His tired eyes wandered over the people that accompanied her and his smile widened. Despite the pain, his eyes reflected nothing but happiness and sparked a soothing tingle in my stomach. This was how a family was supposed to be – loving and unconditional.
"Thank you, Arya, Harry," I was snapped out of my thoughts. Mrs. Weasley encouraged the two of us to approach him. "Without you, I wouldn't be here."
A trembling hand reached for Harry and he shook it with a relieved smile on his lips. Blue eyes flickered to me and I raised my hands to wrap them around Mr. Weasley's. The moment our skin touched I flinched. Coldness filled my body and enwrapped my racing heart. My mouth felt dry and I swallowed the thick lump in my throat. The unbridled darkness in his body was frightening and left a disgusting taste on my tongue. It took all my willpower not to pull my hands back. I could not smile anymore as the true meaning sank in.
Anxiously, I waited until Mr. Weasley was occupied with his family. I felt Harry's eyes on me as I slowly turned towards the door. My heart was hammering in my cold chest. My hands were trembling. As quietly as possible, I left the room and closed the door behind me. I felt dizzy and closed my eyes. Shaking breaths escaped my mouth.
I jumped and whirled around when a hand suddenly touched my shoulder. Lupin gazed down at me with a concerned expression. I looked at him yet my eyes refused to see him. My mind was pondering about the terrible feeling the touch of Mr. Weasley's hand had sparked – the feeling of pain and death. Arthur Weasley was dying.
"Arya, what happened," Lupin asked softly. Tonks' gaze flickered briefly to the closed door before she stepped closer.
My hands were trembling at my sides. Bile rose in the back of my throat when my mind chose this moment to provide me with a very vivid memory of the sickening feeling of Dark Magic in Mr. Weasley's body.
"I – I," my voice broke and I swallowed. "I need something to drink. Is there – Do you know if there is a tearoom somewhere?"
"Yes, fifth floor," Tonks threw in and unfolded her arms. "Well then, I shall accompany you." She cast me an encouraging smile and I nodded. I could not have cared less whether I was going alone or not. The feeling of dread hindered me from feeling anything else.
"Alastor, would you mind if I…," Lupin asked in direction of the Auror. A growl of approval reached my ears so I followed Tonks with Lupin by my side. I had the vague suspicion that I was the reason why the wizard had insisted on coming with us – and on accompanying us to the Hospital.
"There we go," Tonks exclaimed, trying to sound cheerful although the wavering in her voice betrayed her sadness. It unsettled me to see the usually beaming witch so concerned.
I sat down at the table. When Lupin returned with three cups of tea floating behind him, I had not said a single word. Absentminded, I started stirring the tea, watching hypnotised as the fluid reflected the sunlight. It was too bright for my mood.
Mr. Weasley was dying. His body could not cope with the power of the Dark magic that had mixed itself with his blood. He would die. No matter how many Healers, Potioneers and experts of the Dark Arts worked on analysing the poison, they had not enough time.
The moment I had shaken Mr. Weasley's hand I had known that I could not heal him. It was as my mother had said – this was undoubtedly magic beyond my powers. It would kill me before I could possibly do Mr. Weasley any good. If the Healers' spells did not work, then my untrained Magic would definitely fail. I frowned at my cup, wondering what Severus would say if he were here. He knew more about the Dark Arts than anyone else willing to share these pieces of information. As a devoted Potioneer he would probably stress on the importance of patience and perseverance if one wished to create a new potion or spell. And developing a spell or potion to extract the Dark Magic from Mr. Weasley's system would take more time than he had left–
That was it! The Healers could not extract the poison nor the Dark Magic from Mr. Weasley's body, but I could. Using Healing Magic, forming the magic to counteract the Dark Magic would cost me an impossibly huge amount of energy. But if I merely moved the Dark Magic from one living shell to another…
My gaze fell on my covered forearm. I bit the inside of my lip and rubbed the spot of the Dark Mark. I was cursed, was I not? I would die… A sudden calm washed through my body and left me hyperaware of my senses. I could suddenly hear my heart pumping the blood through my veins. I felt the air entering and leaving my body. The awful taste of Dark Magic settled on my tongue and I swallowed.
There was only one way to save Mr. Weasley now, was there not? If I failed, what difference would it make? If I misjudged the amount of energy needed, I could die. But I would die by the end of the war anyway… Severus would never approve of this, a quiet voice sounded in my mind, and nor would Draco. I did not want to die, but I would never make it out of this war alive. Did it matter how I died?
Yes, it did… I could either sit around and do nothing or use the life I still had to save an innocent. Mr. Weasley was innocent and the Weasley family did not deserve this. No, he most certainly did not, but life was not fair. Nobody deserved to die whether they were innocent or not. A life was a life, was it not? If I saved Mr. Weasley, I would save an honourable, kind-hearted man–
"What do you think," Tonks ripped me out of my thoughts. I looked up and found myself at the receiving end of very concerned looks.
Lupin frowned and leaned slightly forward, resting his arms on the table. "What happened earlier? I mean you seemed… ah… quite distracted when you visited Mr. Weasley. But now you're as pale as a ghost."
His eyes wandered down to my forearm where my right hand was tracing circles on my sleeve. I took a deep breath and chose my course of action. "I will be right back," I excused myself and approached the elder, grim-looking lady hiding behind her counter. I asked her for several rolls of parchment, a quill and ink. With a sceptical expression, she handed me the requested supplies, her gaze flickering to Tonks and Lupin who were watching me with curious and confused expressions from the other side of the room.
A deep sigh escaped my lips when I sat at the table closest to Tonks and Lupin. Trembling hands uncorked the inkpot and dipped the tip of the quill into the black colour. I took a deep breath and focused on the parchment under my hand. Then I lowered the quill and started writing.
My beloved Severus…
More and more words filled the empty parchments as I allowed my heart to form the sentences. I felt it aching as the words of farewell left the quill. The mere thought of never seeing him again, of causing him such pain, frightened me more than the thought of death. If this went wrong, I would leave him alone. I would leave my brother alone…
Tears had formed in my eyes when I finished the last letter. My hands were shaking stronger when I wiped at my eyes. Gently, as if the parchment felt my touch, I folded the letters. I wrote the corresponding names on the folded parchments before placing them in the envelope the elder lady had given me. My heart pounded in my chest when I closed and sealed it with a rather simple incantation. I muttered the words under my breath, careful not to let anyone hear that I was speaking in another language.
"May this envelope be sealed until my death. May it be protected from the elements – no fire, no water, no air or earth shall affect this sealed envelope. My death alone may allow the seal to be broken by the chosen keeper."
I returned the quill and ink before I took my previous seat again. Tonks and Lupin were exchanging concerned looks. Whereas Tonks was mostly watching me with curiosity, Lupin' face masked confusion.
"Arya, don't you think you should tell us what happened," looking a bit helpless he motioned to the envelope in my hand. "What's this?"
I took a calming breath and forced a controlled expression on my features. I could do this – I would. Hesitating I turned the envelope around and placed in on the table for Lupin to read.
"Ah, why did you write me a letter," the wizard looked up and frowned. Tonks leaned forward to read the name on the envelope.
I folded my legs and crossed my fingers in my lap. To my surprise, my voice sounded controlled when I spoke. I glanced shortly at the envelope before watching Lupin with a steady gaze.
"Mr. Weasley is dying. I felt it when I shook his hand." Tonks bit the inside of her cheek and Lupin's frown darkened.
"Are you sure," he asked quietly.
I nodded and looked around for possible unwanted listeners. Then I looked back at Lupin. "I need your help."
Lupin nodded slowly and folded his arms on the table. I pointed at the envelope in front of him. "I need you to keep this envelope safe and out of other people's reach. For now, you cannot open it, but it will open at the right time. There are several letters inside."
Lupin's nod was more reluctant now. Before he could say anything, I continued.
"As I said, Mr. Weasley is dying… I need you to distribute these letters since I won't be capable to do it myself."
"Now you're actually scaring me. What's that supposed to mean," asked Tonks quietly. The expression of Lupin's face showed me that he was wondering the same. But there was also the spark of fear and disbelief in his eyes and I knew what he was trying not to think off.
"I will try to help him with my own magic," I answered softly.
Tonks drew in a sharp breath. Lupin on the other hand stared at me as if I had grown a second head. "You mean to tell me that you don't know if you'll survive this."
"The chances that I survive what I intend to do are slim, to be honest. I have never attempted such an… operation before," I sighed and swallowed the forming lump in my throat. The heavy pressure in my heart had suddenly returned. "My life, my future is not in my hands – it never was. But I can choose what to do with my remaining time."
"But – What – Arya, this is a very… brave decision, but do you truly believe Mr. Weasley would want–," Lupin stuttered.
"What I do with my life is my choice, is it not? I can give my life to whomever I wish and if there is only the slightest chance that I can save him then I want to try. My death is certain, but Mr. Weasley can survive if I help him."
Lupin opened his mouth only to close it again. Tonks leaned closer and cast me an unreadable look. "Well, you truly are brave… and right about the choice you have. No one but yourself should control your life."
For a moment we just looked at each other. When the tea lady passed our table with astounding speed, I averted my gaze to Lupin. "I will need your help with more than just these letters. And I need your word for it."
The expression on his face was more serious than I had seen before. "But have you thought this through, Arya? You made this decision just now. I mean– Have you thought about your friends and… well… Nobody expects you to give up your life."
I smiled sadly. "At Grimmauld Place this summer, I promised Professor Snape not to throw my life away. But that is not what I'm doing here nor am I giving up my life. I know what I'm doing. I want to and will do this for the Weasley family but also for myself. And I need your help. So, will you help me?"
The silence stretched as he stared at me. Various emotions flickered through his eyes until he finally nodded again. I cast him a small, grateful smile. "I cannot say in what state I will be once I finish the procedure. I might still have enough strength left to return to Grimmauld Place or I might not. Anyway, I need you to take me back. Whatever the Healers here might say or want to do, you must bring me back. The only person who might be able to help is Professor Snape. Take me back to Grimmauld Place, do not give me any potions or use any Healing spells and contact Professor Snape as soon as you can."
"He'll be furious," Lupin said softly and cast me an insisting look. "Is he even aware that you're here?"
His words sparked a deep longing in my heart and I lowered my gaze. My fingers played with the elbish ring on my hand. My eyes stung suddenly and I had to bite the inside of my cheek as not to lose control. How much I wanted to see Severus again right now.
"Yes, he knows," I muttered and sighed. I raised my head when my heart sank lower in my chest. I straightened in my seat and cast Lupin a hard look. "Promise me that you will bring me back to Grimmauld Place and contact him the moment we arrive."
Lupin nodded thoughtfully. "You have my word."
For a moment we stared at each other. The quiet urgency in my words was not lost on the man in front of me. Lupin swallowed and nodded again, wordlessly accepting and respecting my decision. Then he took the letter reluctantly and I watched it disappear in one of the inside pockets of his robes.
I took a deep breath to compose myself, reminding myself of what I wanted to do, trying to forget about who I was leaving behind. These thoughts and feelings would merely distract me in my task. I forced the dream about Mr. Weasley's attack to the forefront of my mind. I reminded myself of the feeling of the Cruciatus Curse and all the cruelties my father committed. He would not win today. A small satisfactory smile crept on my lips. No, he would not. Mr. Weasley would live. I would make sure of it.
When my fingers took a hold of the cup they were no longer trembling. I took one last gulp before coming to my feet. I raised my chin and felt how the overwhelming determination calmed my body. My heartbeat slowed, my senses sharpened and focused on the calm waves of magic in my soul. Soon enough the quiet, regular movements would turn to a raging storm. As we made our way back, I could feel the dread and anxiety wave off Tonks' and Lupin's bodies. They remained quiet, however.
"If you don't mind, I'll come with you," Lupin glanced at the closed door. I nodded once, my gaze flickering from a nervous Tonks to a very grim looking Moody. The Auror was observing me with his magical eye and, for a second, I feared that he could read my thoughts, that he knew what I was about to do. Then I followed Lupin back into Mr. Weasley's room.
The Weasley family sat around Mr. Weasley's bed. Mrs. Weasley's head snapped around when she heard the door opening. The flicker of hope in her eyes vanished as quickly as it had come. Obviously she had expected someone else – maybe a healer who would declare that they had found an antidote. Never before had I seen the twins looking so lost. Ginny's eyes were red as if she had been crying. I recognised the eldest child, Bill Weasley, leaning against the wall with a very exhausted looking Harry next to him.
I approached the bed and found my gaze fixed on the pale face of Mr. Weasley. Pearls of sweat had formed on his forehead and the hand that Mrs. Weasley was holding trembled slightly. Mr. Weasley's dull eyes flickered in Lupin's and my direction and despite the pain in his eyes the corners of his lips twitched into a small smile. I glanced up at Lupin to see him already watching me with great concern in his eyes. It was at this moment that I became fully aware of what I intended to do. Instead of fear, however, I felt a peaceful calm filling my heart. I showed Lupin a small smile and after a moment he swallowed and nodded.
"George," I addressed the twin with a small smile, "may I borrow your seat?"
George blinked at me several times before he shrugged his shoulders. His twin watched me with a slightly confused expression but remained quiet. I pulled the chair closer to the bed until my knees touched the mattress. Mr. Weasley's head turned slowly in my direction, dull blue eyes watching me. I smiled warmly at him although my heart clenched painfully in my chest. It was wrong to see the usual twinkling eyes and vivid features so sick and exhausted.
"Mr. Weasley," I spoke gently and carefully took his cold hand in mine. A cold shiver ran down my spine when the feeling of darkness and death grew even stronger with the touch.
"You can feel it too, don't you," Mr. Weasley's voice sounded coarse and strange. I nodded slowly.
"Feel what," Mrs. Weasley's hold on her husband's hand tightened and her frightened eyes flickered to me and back to her husband. I heard the rustling of robes next to me and for a short second my mind imagined it to be Severus.
"Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley, may I speak to you alone?"
Mrs. Weasley frowned but nodded, nonetheless. The creases of worry on her forehead deepened even more when she turned towards her children. Mr. Weasley glanced at his children, his eyelids almost closing with the draining effort.
"What – But mum–," protested Ginny frustrated and looked from her father to me. "What does this mean?"
"Bill," Mr. Weasley spoke quietly. His son pushed himself off the wall and sat on the bed. "Take your siblings and Harry out of here, would you?" A trembling hand reached for his son's hand and a weak smile appeared on his lips.
"No, we want to stay. We want to hear what's so important," exclaimed George from behind his twin. Fred looked just as frightened and upset. "Yeah, we're of age. We want to hear this."
"Listen to your father," Mrs. Weasley raised her voice although it held nothing of its usual energy. She threw her eldest son a sad smile and he nodded in return. More protests arose, but under the stern gaze of their mother, they reluctantly left the room. I felt their eyes on me until Bill gently pulled Ginny out of the room and closed the door. Lupin sat down next to me and folded his hands in his lap.
"What is it that you feel, Arya," Mrs. Weasley's scared eyes settled on me. I looked from her to Mr. Weasley, leaving her question unanswered for the moment. I did not want them to know about the risk I was taking since I knew they would certainly not agree.
"The mixture of the snake's poison with Dark Magic is something that no spell nor potion can counteract. Dark Magic is not an illness therefore there exists no cure for it and it renders every antidote more or less useless. However, I think I know a way how to help you which is why I wanted us to be alone. With your permission, I would like to treat you, Mr. Weasley."
"But – What do you mean," Mrs. Weasley paled even further and stared at me with wide eyes. "You mean Arthur's…"
Mr. Weasley looked from me to his panicking wife and back. "Is this safe? How can you heal something that's incurable?"
"My magic, Ancient Magic, works differently than wand magic. I cannot explain it in detail, but its use is not bound to defined spells which allows me to form it at will… to a certain extent."
Mr. Weasley exchanged a long look with Mrs. Weasley before the witch looked up again. Her lips curled into a tired smile. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Well, Arya… I – We don't doubt you, but are you sure? You don't have to do this. I mean, this is not your fault if you should feel responsible for some reason…"
"I want to help you, Mr. Weasley. I want to do this for you and I know that I can do it," I insisted and gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. At least I hoped I could help him…
Mr. Weasley closed his eyes for a moment before he finally nodded. I smiled wearily and nodded. Lupin placed his hand on my shoulder and I turned to him. Warm eyes filled with nothing but concern watched me intensely. No words were needed as he silently communicated his support. I nodded gratefully before turning to the Weasleys once more.
"Please, release his hand, Mrs. Weasley, and whatever happens, don't touch him," I instructed quietly as I took Mr. Weasley's hand in a more comfortable position. I placed my other hand on his chest and felt the weak beating of his heart against my palm.
Then I closed my eyes and focused. I focused my mind on Mr. Weasley's body. I reached for the calm lake of magic in my soul. I felt the shift as movement came in the quiet force. Waves pushed the energy through my veins, into my heart and into my hands where I was connected with Mr. Weasley. The second the magic reached my palms, I became suddenly hyperaware of his body – and the darkness within. It was spreading like a disease, gradually yet inexorably destroying nerves, vessels and magic. It was the complete opposite of my magic. Where Ancient Magic was pure, light and life, the Dark Magic in Mr. Weasley's body was purely destructive and lethal.
I used my magic to detect the darkness in his body. Suddenly I understood why Dark Magic was so dangerous. It was obviously there, in his body, and yet it was not. It had no form or shape like the snake poison that attacked Mr. Weasley's somatic cells, nerves and muscles. The darkness moved without shape, without logic through his body. It was unfixed, mutating and indestructible. As if one tried to catch smoke with their bare hands.
There were no words to describe what I was doing yet the sentences spoken in Nyanja left my lips without hesitation. I felt the natural resistance of my magic to mingle with the darkness that was within Mr. Weasley's body. Yet I continued and pushed my magic into his body, forced it to flow through every vein, every vessel, nerve and fibre. The hand on Mr. Weasley's heart kept a blending light of magic in the weakly beating organ to keep it pulsating. Where purity collided with relentless darkness, it rose against my magic before vanishing into another part of Mr. Weasley's system. It was strenuous but I guided my magic with a calm, patient perseverance. I knew the most difficult part was yet to come.
Slowly, in a tedious process, I had finally encircled the formless darkness in Mr. Weasley's arm. It could no longer spread, and it was then that I felt its entire power. Dark Magic reared against my incessant magical barrier that forced it closer and closer to where our hands were connected. Dark Magic existed to destroy, not to be destroyed, and a human body was weaker than that of an elb.
My magic shone brighter than ever before as the darkness was rising one last time, its foul energy bombarding my magic with the brutal force of death. I gathered all my strength and threw one last powerful blow against the dark wall. I lost control of my magic when the sheer, unbridled force filled my body. Then I felt a huge shadow falling silently, like a horrible evil spirit, over my soul.
I opened my eyes… and saw only darkness. I felt nothing as if I had somehow lost my body. Then I was falling and flashes of light passed in front of my eyes. My soul was burning. The blood in my veins, every fibre of my being felt foul. My body was not my body anymore. Gasping, I ripped my eyes wide open.
"Arya," somebody called loudly.
Softness and warmth were under my hands. I blinked several times and slowly my eyes focused on the red-haired man. A seething, sharp pain rushed through my veins and paralysed my muscles. I gasped for air, but it brought no relief. On the contrary, I felt as if every intake of fresh air was contaminated by the foul darkness in my lungs. I gagged as the disgusting taste filled my mouth and nose.
"Arya, can you hear me," I identified Lupin's concerned voice.
The touch on my forearm felt as soothing as it made me feel filthy. Dark Magic was residing in my body. It was everywhere. I felt it, tasted it, smelled it, breathed it. The seething pain was unbearable and made me whimper. My magic was rising against the intrusion of Dark Magic – of death. My hands clenched to fists on the mattress as I frantically tried to keep my mind awake.
"Lupin," I groaned.
"I'm here, Arya," I heard him. His voice came from everywhere and nowhere. A hand took a firm grip on my upper arm.
My eyelids threatened to close as I turned my head to him. My body was shuddering, my muscles no longer under my control. I saw a blurred mess of brown hair and a pale face with no eyes. The edges of my vision darkened too fast.
"Tell him I'm sorry."
Suddenly I was surrounded by darkness. The face of an angry Severus ghosted briefly through my mind, then I felt nothing but sweet relief.