Welcome to the beginning of the Order of the Phoenix section! (Although this chapter is technically set in the final days of GoF) And thank you to the reviewers of the previous chapter, your words are muchly appreciated :)
Sunday 25 June, 1995:
'London calling to the faraway towns,
Now war is declared and battle come down.
London calling to the underworld,
Come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls...'
"Now, that's what I call eerily well-timed," muttered Remus, as The Clash blared out of the car's speakers. They were just approaching the River Thames.
He glanced at Lena, but she didn't appear to have heard his comment, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. She hadn't said much since they'd left the Swiss house that morning. Just as Remus was about to look away, her right hand moved to scratch her left forearm.
"Lena," he said sharply, and she quickly retracted her hand without looking at him. He repressed a sigh, looking out the window as they entered the Blackwall Tunnel.
When he'd first seen the inscription on her arm that morning, he had thought for a moment that he would throw up. It had been horrifying. The idea that Voldemort had used her own blood to send a message to her – it was so... possessive.
Remus clenched his fists, still trying to get his head around the fact that after nearly fourteen years, Lord Voldemort had returned, as strong as he had been before. His legs had almost buckled beneath him as he had read the letter Dumbledore had sent to him and Lena.
Once again, Voldemort had nearly killed Harry. And he had murdered Cedric Diggory.
Remus had liked Cedric. He'd been a dedicated student, and a kind boy – the embodiment of the ideal Hufflepuff. And now, for the simple matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, his life had been cut short. By the man that the woman sitting next to him once regarded more highly than any other.
'And Peter,' Remus reminded himself. Dumbledore had explained that the former Marauder had been pivotal in Voldemort's restoration.
He closed his eyes. How could he have been so stupid to have not taken his Wolfsbane that night one year ago? If he hadn't had put them all in such immediate danger, they could have turned Pettigrew over to the Aurors. Then Sirius would have been a free man, and Voldemort would most likely still be a cloud of smoke.
'Well, it's too late to fix any of that now,' he told himself, opening his eyes. 'All I can do now is fight against him.'
And that was what Lena was going to do too. At least, that's what Remus had assumed when Lena hadn't taken off by herself that morning after learning her former teacher was back. He hadn't pushed her to tell him what she was thinking. One didn't have to love her as much as he did to know she was in immense pain.
After she had read Dumbledore's letter, she had quietly told Remus to pack his bags so they could depart for England as soon as possible. They had spent all day driving (apart from the ferry trip from Calais to Dover), listening to Lena's cassettes in a silence which was only disrupted on the occasions that Lena subconsciously scratched her arm. The message had almost entirely faded now, but that hadn't stopped it bothering her.
Twenty minutes later, they reached a place near Charing Cross Road where they could leave the car, and made their way to the Leaky Cauldron. There hadn't been any discussion about returning to the Lestrange Estate – clearly, it wouldn't be safe – so they instead were going to spend the night at Valeriya's flat in Knockturn Alley, as she was away in Tangiers.
As they entered the flat, Remus looked around interestedly. He had never been there before and was curious about the place Lena had spent the majority of her holidays while a student. It was quite a small, cramped space.
'Only because you've spent most of the last year between two mansions,' Remus internally berated himself. 'You've become spoilt.'
Mortimer, who had hidden inside Lena's jacket on their journey to the flat, scurried out and began to explore his former home.
"This one was my room," said Lena, pushing open a door. "You can sleep in here tonight."
Remus looked inside. There was a single-bed that would probably be slightly too short for him.
"What about you?" he asked Lena.
Lena raised her eyebrow by a fraction. "You really think I'm getting any sleep tonight?"
Remus cringed inwardly.
Without waiting for his reply, Lena continued, "I'll go out and grab some dinner. Anything you'd like in particular?"
"How about I come with you?" suggested Remus.
Her eyes narrowed imperceptibly. "Why, Remus?" she said, her tone slightly colder. "What do you think is going to happen if I go out alone?"
His stomach clenched. The last thing he wanted Lena to think was that he didn't trust her.
So Remus took a cautious step towards her, and held a hand out to her. Lena hesitated, but warily took it with her own, and allowed him to gently pull her closer. Slowly, and maintaining eye contact with her, he edged his lips closer to hers. After further hesitation, Lena copied him. Neither closed their eyes until their lips finally met.
It wasn't a passionate kiss, or particularly romantic at all. It was about reassurance. Reaffirmation that Remus trusted her to do the right thing. When Remus was sure she understood, he broke the kiss and, his eyes still shut, rested his forehead against hers for a moment. At last, he drew back and looked at her.
"Thai would be wonderful," he told her, "if you're happy with that."
Lena nodded. "Thai it is," she agreed quietly. Before she left, she kissed him on the cheek, her lips lingering slightly longer than usual.
When Remus woke up in Lena's old bed the next morning, the room was completely dark as there was no window and Lena had closed the door at some point during the night. Blindly, Remus' hand scrabbled around the bedside table, searching for his wristwatch and wand. Eventually finding them both, he muttered, "Lumos," and checked the time. It was almost nine a.m..
He quickly sat up, keeping the end of his wand lit. He had slept much later than he'd intended. He hurriedly put on a T-shirt and opened the bedroom door and extinguished his light, having no need of it in the illuminated flat.
Music was coming from the kitchenette. It was quiet, but Remus recognised the sound of Paul McCartney singing 'Eleanor Rigby'. Moving to the entrance of the kitchenette, he found Lena sitting at the small table. Her eyes were closed as she listened to her Beatles mix-tape on the cassette player, and she had drawn one of her feet up onto the chair.
Remus studied her face. Its expression was much calmer than it had been the previous day. In fact, her whole body appeared less tense. He hoped it meant that she had achieved some sort of clarity of mind.
"Wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door."
Remus started; he hadn't realised Lena was aware of his presence.
"Sorry?" he said, confused.
Lena finally opened her eyes. "It's a lyric in the song," she explained with a small smile. "Whenever I hear it, it just sort of sticks in my head for awhile. I don't know why." She paused. "Actually, I do." She looked away from Remus, staring at the wall as she half-mouthed along to McCartney's closing lines of the song.
Remus sat down across from her. As the opening guitar strums of 'Yesterday' began, he said, "You let me sleep in."
She turned her gaze back to him. "I didn't think you'd gotten much the previous night. And you didn't sleep in the car yesterday, so I figured you could use some extra hours." She pointed to the kitchen counter. "I also brought some bread last night, in case you wanted toast for breakfast. And tea bags too." She gestured towards the mug sitting in front of her. "I've already had three cups this morning, but I could go for a fourth. You want one?"
"Thank you."
Lena picked up her wand and waved it, muttering a couple of incantations. At once, breakfast began to prepare itself. Five minutes later, a plate of toast and a cup of tea was sitting in front of both Remus and Lena. They were halfway through breakfast when there came a tapping at the flat's sole window.
"I'll get it," said Lena quickly, and went out of the kitchenette. She came back a minute later, holding an envelope. "From Dumbledore," she told Remus. "Presumably a response to the reply we sent him yesterday morning." Sitting down, she opened it and unfolded the letter inside. "Shall I read it out?"
Remus nodded, and she began.
"Lena and Remus,
Thank you for the promptness of your return to Britain. I have not had a chance to visit the Lestrange Estate yet, but will do so at the earliest opportunity and inspect the defences. I agree that it would be unwise for you to return there any time soon.
The re-establishment of the Order is progressing. However, I fear we will not receive the same co-operation from the Aurors as we did last time, with Alastor no longer head of the department, and Fudge refusing to accept the reality of the new situation. And I suspect, if Voldemort confines himself to the shadows for the meantime, the news of his return will be met with resistance from the wider public – particularly when it comes to the reporting of the Daily Prophet.
In any case, the first meeting of the new Order will not occur until the end of this school year; I shall inform you of the details a little closer to the date. But there is much to be done before then.
Today, at two o'clock in Gibson Square Gardens, Islington, a friend of yours shall be waiting for you.
Regards,
Albus Dumbledore"
Lena looked up from the letter. "A friend?"
"Sirius, I expect," said Remus. "Although Merlin knows what he's doing back in London, so close to the Ministry. How far is it from here to Islington?"
"A fifteen or twenty minute drive, I think," answered Lena. She glanced down at the letter again. "Fudge, you moron," she murmured.
"Not really surprising, though, is it?" Remus pointed out. "Fudge only became the Minister because everyone thought we'd entered a new era of peace, and that we didn't need someone who could lead a war effort." He paused, looking at Lena intently.
It didn't take long for Lena to notice his gaze. "What?" she asked.
He slowly breathed in and out, before saying, "You are intending on joining the Order, then?"
She stared at him for a long moment. Then, pushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear, she calmly said, "I hate blood supremacy, Remus. It's wrong, and it's evil. And I will not let my personal feelings towards Lord Voldemort stand in the way of fighting against it."
At two o'clock, Lena and Remus parked in the street beside Gibson Square Gardens. As Lena got out of the car, she adjusted her sunglasses and grimaced. It was uncommonly hot.
She glanced at Remus as he shut the passenger seat door. The sleeves of his white linen button-up shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and he was wearing sunglasses too, behind which his eyes were nervously scanning the Gardens. But Lena could tell that beneath his worry, there was excitement too – he was, after all, about to see his best friend again.
After locking the car, they wandered into the gardens. There didn't appear to be anyone else about. At last, Lena spotted a large black dog lying in the shade of a tree. She nudged Remus and indicated to it. The dog, at the same time, noticed their presence and quickly sat up. Eagerly, he bounded over to them. Reaching Remus, the dog reared back on his hind legs and placed his front paws on his friend's chest, his tongue lolling out as he grinned.
Remus laughed softly, and scratched the dog's head. "Missed you too, Padfoot," he told his friend.
The dog dropped back on all-fours, and inclined its head at Lena, who nodded back. Then Padfoot turned around and trotted off, closely followed by Remus and Lena to give the appearance that he was theirs.
Padfoot led them out of the Gardens and across the street. They went around the corner, and at the next left turn, they went up the street, past a row of backyards. They turned the corner again into another street called Grimmauld Place. The grimy fronts of the houses were not welcoming; some of them had broken windows, paint was peeling from many of the doors and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps. In the middle of the side of the street opposite to the one they were walking along, there was a square patch of unkempt grass.
They reached Number 11, and Lena noticed that the next one along was 13. Padfoot suddenly changed course and made a beeline for the part where the two houses connected. Suddenly, he disappeared. Lena removed her sunglasses and squinted at the spot where he'd vanished. There was something wrong with it...
She grabbed Remus' arm. "Come on," she muttered, and they walked over to where they'd last seen Padfoot.
A moment later, a whole other house stood before them: Number 12. And leaning against its shabby, black front door was Sirius Black.
"Welcome," he said, waving a hand theatrically, "to the actual Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, now property of the Disowned and Most Disgraced Sirius Orion Black."
"Huh." Lena looked at the house interestedly. It had a silver doorknocker in the shape of a twisted serpent. "So this is what it looks like from the outside. I only ever came here via the Floo Network, so I didn't know."
"Well, it's certainly not as grand as the Lestrange Estate," said Sirius. "Which reminds me," he extended a hand, "I don't think we've actually been properly introduced."
"No," replied Lena, moving up onto the doorstep. "I don't believe we have." She took the proffered hand and shook it. "Lena Lestrange, your first cousin once-removed, and Remus' other half."
"Sirius Black. Our family's greatest disappointment, and Remus' better-looking friend."
Lena grinned. "You don't say. I was just thinking you're surprisingly gorgeous for an on-the-run escapee of Azkaban."
"I'm literally right here," said Remus loudly.
"I'm sorry, dear," she apologised, patting him on the cheek. "You're very pretty too."
"I was genuinely just thinking how fit you looked," added Sirius, eyeing his friend up-and-down. "You're not half as scrawny as you used to be." He squinted at Remus' upper-lip. "Not sure about the moustache, though."
"Look, I'm not entirely sold on it either," Lena admitted to him. "But he seems to like it, so I've told myself there's no harm in letting him keep it."
"Except an ill-considered and misaimed kiss."
"Well, of course."
"Again," said Remus, exasperated, "right here."
"Shall we go inside?" Lena asked Sirius.
"Good idea," he replied, opening the door. "Just be warned, the whole place is in a terrible state. Also–"
He didn't need to finish the sentence. The moment they crossed the threshold, an awful screaming started up.
"Traitor! Stain on the family name, shame of the House of Black–"
Sirius slammed the door shut behind them. "SHUT UP, YOU OLD HAG!" he bellowed, but it did nothing to stop the wailing.
In the darkness, Lena could just make out the shapes of lamps along the wall. She waved her wand to ignite them, and at last they could see the entrance hall – and most importantly, what was making the dreadful noise.
Lena's eyes widened shock when she saw Walburga Black's painted face hanging on the wall at the end of the hallway. It was quite an enormous portrait, bigger than the many other age-blackened portraits hanging along the hallway. And significantly more vocal too.
"–brought dishonour upon all our family–"
"I believe you're both acquainted with my mother," said Sirius grimly, barely audible over the racket she was causing.
The last time Lena had seen her Great Aunt Walburga, she had been five years old. She had loathed the vile woman, and as Bellatrix had been Walburga's favourite niece, the feeling had been mutual.
She vaguely remembered Valeriya notifying her of Mrs Black's death about ten years ago. She couldn't recall what her reaction had been to the news; most likely, she had said "Good" and then not spent another seconding dwelling on the matter.
"Is there any way to shut her up?" shouted Remus over the portrait's screeching.
Sirius spread his hands helplessly. "I've tried Silencing Charms, taking it off the wall, setting it on fire–"
Lena took a deep breath, then yelled, "Aunt Walburga!"
At last, Sirius' mother ceased her noise. The portrait's eyes narrowed as Lena slowly walked down the hallway towards it. Recognising her, it hissed, "You! Ungrateful child–"
"Ungrateful?" repeated Lena, stopping in front of the portrait and glaring back at its subject. "Of what, undeserved punishments?"
"Your poor mother, burdened with a nasty, troublesome wretch like you–"
"My mother," said Lena calmly, "was an evil, sadistic bitch who was even worse than you."
One second of complete silence filled the hallway. Then:
"WICKED CHILD, HOW DARE YOU COME HERE–"
"Come on," said Sirius, taking Lena by the elbow and gesturing for Remus to follow. "Let's go upstairs, I want to check on Buckbeak."
Leaving behind the still-shrieking portrait, he took them to a winding staircase. The smells of damp, dust and rot grew more pungent the further they went into the house.
"Where on Earth are you keeping a Hippogriff in here?" asked Remus.
"My mother's bedroom. Best occupant that room's ever had."
They passed an umbrella stand that appeared to be made of a troll's leg and began their ascent of the stairs.
Remus audibly shuddered as he looked at the walls. "Are those–"
"The heads of the Black family's past house-elves mounted on the walls, yeah," said Sirius. "Unfortunately, the most recent one is yet to join them."
Lena shook her head in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me – Kreacher is still alive?"
Sirius glanced back at her with a humourless smile. "Yep," he confirmed. "Talk about an unwelcome surprise."
"Where is he now?" asked Lena, frowning.
"Hopefully, still in the kitchen," replied Sirius. "I ordered him to stay there until I said otherwise."
"So you're his master now?"
"Apparently, he's part of the wider–" Sirius gestured around him, "–inheritance."
When they reached the third floor, Sirius led them down the corridor to the room at the very end. As he opened the door, there was a loud rustling of feathers and a squawk.
Buckbeak the Hippogriff excitedly greeted his on-the-run partner, before eyeing Lena and Remus suspiciously. Hurriedly, they both bowed. Buckbeak continued to warily watch them for several seconds, then bowed too.
"So, how long are you intending on staying here?" Remus asked Sirius, as he moved closer to pat the Hippogriff's beak.
"For the foreseeable future," answered Sirius, although he didn't sound pleased about it. "But it might not be just my hideout," he added. "Because this place has so many protective enchantments around it, the idea is that we might use it for headquarters."
"Of the new Order?" said Remus, surprised.
Sirius nodded. "That's the main reason I came here – to check if it could be useable. And apart from it being in an absolutely filthy state, I reckon all it needs is a Fidelius Charm, and it'll be perfect." He still sounded quite unenthusiastic.
"And you're okay with staying here?" said Remus hesitantly. "Despite–"
"Despite the fucking awful childhood I spent here?" interrupted Sirius with a wry smile. He shrugged. "I suppose I'll just have to suck it up." He scratched Buckbeak's head. "Won't we, buddy?" he murmured.
The Hippogriff responded with a quiet squawk.
"That reminds me," said Sirius. "I need to get him some more food – I think he's already hunted down most of the rats that have been living here."
"We could pick up some stuff for him in Knockturn Alley," suggested Lena. "And also any supplies you need."
"I'd appreciate that. So, when are you two heading back to the Lestrange Estate? That's where you've been living, right?"
"We had been," replied Lena. "But it's been... compromised. Last night we stayed at my aunt's flat in Knockturn Alley, but that's not going to really work out as a permanent arrangement."
Sirius stared at them, an idea clearly forming in his head. "Then I suppose you're looking for a place to stay..."
Lena and Remus looked at each other. After a couple of seconds, they both smiled and turned back to Sirius.
"What would you think of having two more housemates?" said Remus.
For the first time, Sirius genuinely grinned. "I think that would be bloody great."
Before Lena and Remus left to return to Valeriya's flat and collect Mortimer and the rest of their things, Sirius introduced (or rather, in Lena's case, re-introduced) them to Kreacher the house-elf. He had visibly aged in the fourteen years since Lena had last seen him, his skin even more wrinkled and a large quantity of white hair growing out of his bat-like ears. Time, however, had not caused him to forget 'Bad, Wicked Miss Lena'. But Kreacher was only allowed a few seconds to spew verbal abuse at her before Sirius ordered his silence.
"Not a fan of yours, I take it?" Remus had said drily as they walked upstairs to the entrance hallway.
"No, he adored 'Lovely Miss Bella' far too much for that," Lena had replied.
As well as picking up food and sanitary supplies, Lena also dropped into the draper's shop in Knockturn Alley. She had an idea of how to combat Walburga's portrait.
"Enchanted curtains," she explained to Remus and Sirius when they were back at 12 Grimmauld Place. She pulled the black velvet material out of the wrapping paper. "They should be able to dampen the noise – both ways."
It was a struggle, but after half-an-hour, Lena and Sirius had finally installed the curtains over the screeching portrait, ignoring Kreacher's horrified protestations as they'd worked. Remus, meanwhile, did his best to make one of the bedrooms inhabitable for Lena and himself. Mortimer explored the house thoroughly, and was enormously excited by the amount of Doxy eggs he found.
At eight o'clock in the evening, Lena went out again to buy them dinner. She returned half-an-hour later with three pizzas, which they ate in the kitchen that Remus and Sirius had just finished cleaning.
"Fuck me, that's delicious," said Sirius through a mouthful of food.
"It is good," agreed Lena, "but wait until you try some of Remus' pasta dishes. His fettuccini and carbonara is fantastic."
"Oh, I'm very looking forward to experiencing Remus' newfound culinary abilities," said Sirius. He smirked at Remus. "Do you wear one of those floppy hats when you cook?"
Remus rolled his eyes. "No, I don't."
"I'll buy you one, then."
"You will do no such thing."
Lena smiled as the two old friends continued their back-and-forth. It was nice to see the less-restrained version of Remus she usually only saw when they were alone actually interacting with someone else.
Just as she was thinking this, she was drawn back into the conversation by Sirius.
"So, dear cousin," he began. "Apart from our very brief encounter a year ago, the last time I saw you, you were still a foetus in your awful mother's stomach. How's life been treating you since then?"
Lena waited until she had finished chewing and had swallowed the food in her mouth before responding.
"Well, my parents hated me from the day I was born for a reason I'm yet to discover; I had no friends, and pretty much the only people I knew were Death Eaters. Then Voldemort took a shine to me, and became my teacher. And then eventually he became the only person I loved, because, you know, I'd been pretty fucked up by everything else. Then he got himself blown up, my parents got themselves arrested, and I moved abroad with my grandmother. I met my great aunt, who was basically a criminal but not a blood-purist psychopath, so she was able to teach me a bit about ethics and basic human decency. However, I still had an unhealthy obsession with power, so when I was eleven I messed with an incredibly Dark object called Hecate's Orb, which consequently led me to murdering my grandmother during an argument. Then I moved back to England with my aunt, started attending Hogwarts, attacked and permanently incapacitated a girl who was a fan of my parents; met Harry in my Fifth Year, became friends with him in my Sixth and helped him defeat the teenage version of Voldemort – who had just expressed his desire to shag me, which was disturbing on so many levels. The following year, I became Head Girl, nearly died because of the Orb's magic that was still inside my body, was miraculously saved by the International Healers' Organisation, and fell in love with my Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Left Hogwarts, started a job that involves a significant amount of illegality, and found out I was being stalked by a three-thousand-year-old cult who want me to take back the Orb and become their new goddess. Then yesterday morning I received a personal message from Voldemort which basically meant, 'Hey, still interested in taking over the world with me, like we planned when you were five?'. And so I came back here to join the organisation that's going to fight him and met you." She paused reflectively. "I might have missed a few things, but that's the general gist of it."
Remus, who had just been about to take a bite of pizza before she'd started, was staring at her with a shocked face, still holding his slice in his hand two inches away from his open mouth. Evidently, he hadn't been expecting Lena to be quite so open and honest.
Meanwhile, Sirius, who had leant back in his chair as Lena spoke and listened to her with an indiscernible expression, gazed at her for about five seconds once she had finished, before saying, "I see." There was another beat of silence. Then he inquired, "Have you ever considered taking up drinking?"
Lena threw back her head and, for the first time since she'd woken up the previous morning, truly laughed.
Over the next two days, Lena, Remus and Sirius continued to do their best to make the house more inhabitable. It was a task that would usually be made significantly easier with the assistance of a house-elf, but Kreacher proved to be more of a hindrance than a help. He couldn't directly disobey an order from Sirius, but the old elf exploited any loophole he could.
Lena also undertook the task of making Sirius look a little more... presentable. She cut his long tangled hair, ordered him to neaten his scraggly beard, and bought him some new clothes. It was clear that the toll of twelve years in Azkaban meant he would never be quite as handsome as he once was, but he was certainly once again becoming quite easy on the eyes.
The domesticity, however, was finally disturbed on Wednesday night while they were eating dinner, by the sudden appearance of a Patronus in the shape of a Phoenix. To Lena's shock, the Phoenix opened its beak, and spoke with Dumbledore's voice.
"I will come after midnight. Wait for the surrounding lights to go out."
And with that, the Patronus vanished.
Lena blinked a few times, before asking the others, "Erm, what was that?"
Remus raised his eyebrows. "A Patronus," he said slowly, not understanding her confusion.
"Since when can a Patronus talk?"
"Since Dumbledore figured out a way to use them as a form of communication among the Order during the last war," answered Sirius.
Lena looked at Remus accusingly. "You missed that out during our Patronus lessons."
"Well, you need to produce a corporeal one," said Remus, shrugging. "And you couldn't do that until after I'd left. But I'd be happy to teach you how to do it now."
Sirius, meanwhile, was thoughtfully scratching his chin. "When Dumbledore said 'after midnight', do you think that meant literally just after twelve, or that we can expect him any time after then?"
"I'm not sure," said Lena, "but if what you're really wondering is whether you need to stay up all night or not, I'm happy to keep watch if you want a nap." She smiled sweetly at both of them. "I know senior citizens like yourselves get cranky if they don't get enough rest."
Remus and Sirius shared an affronted look.
"Remus, did your girlfriend just call us 'old'?" Sirius asked his friend.
"Why yes, Sirius, I believe she did."
'How very rude of her."
"Exceedingly."
They both turned back to Lena.
"We," began Remus, "are thirty-five. Men in our prime."
Lena snorted. "If you consider this your 'prime', that's really nothing to boast about."
While Remus looked at her with a wounded expression, Sirius coughed pointedly. "The sounds coming from your room these last few nights would indicate otherwise." He smirked. "I mean, I'm two floors above, and I can hear the two of you loud and clear."
Remus' cheeks instantly turned pink, but Lena simply arched an eyebrow. "Jealous?"
Sirius grinned. "Of course. But of whom more, I'm not sure."
"Can I just reiterate the fact that the two of you are related?" interjected Remus loudly.
Lena waved a dismissive hand. "We're already inbred enough, it wouldn't do much more harm."
"And I haven't had sex in over fourteen years," added Sirius, "so at this point, I'm not really fussy." He glanced at Lena. "Not that I wouldn't consider you shaggable if that wasn't the case."
"Why thank you."
"This is making me uncomfortable in so many ways," grumbled Remus.
"Would a good, hard snog make you feel better?" asked Lena drily.
Remus considered this of a moment. "Infinitely."
At half-past-one in the morning, Lena watched from the grimy drawing room window as all the lights around Grimmauld Place went out, and Albus Dumbledore appeared in the street below.
She quickly woke up Remus and Sirius – who had fallen asleep in the kitchen – and the latter went to the front door to open it for the Headmaster of Hogwarts.
Lena felt a strange rush of affection as, for the first time in a year, she came face-to-face with the great wizard. She had spent so much time with Dumbledore in her final year at Hogwarts, and she hadn't realised how much she missed the mutual understanding they shared.
She, Remus and Sirius quickly showed him around the house, and after an inspection of its magical defences, the head of the Order of the Phoenix approved it as their new headquarters. After a short discussion with all three of them, he asked to speak to Lena alone, and the two of them went down to the kitchen together. Lena shooed Kreacher out of his den and shut the door behind him. Then she joined Dumbledore at the kitchen table, pulling up a chair beside him.
A silence filled the kitchen for a brief moment, as Dumbledore looked at her intently. Then:
"How are you?"
Lena bit her lip. "I–"
A violent shudder ran through her body, and Dumbledore's gnarled hand shot out to take hers. Wordlessly, he held it tightly as Lena raggedly breathed in and out several times, her eyes screwed shut.
After a while, the overwhelming emotion that had so suddenly risen inside of her subsided, and she opened her eyes again, breathing out slowly.
It would not have been apparent to someone who didn't understand Dumbledore as she did, but there was concern and sympathy in his bright blue eyes as he watched her.
"I feel," Lena restarted, letting go of Dumbledore's hand, "like I've spent the last four days with ninety-nine percent of everything inside of me stuffed into a locked trunk." Her breath hitched. "But I don't know how much longer I can keep it in there before the lid bursts open."
Dumbledore nodded slowly. He remained silent a few seconds longer, then said, "You chose to come here, instead of returning to him." His tone was matter-of-fact.
"I chose what is right."
"Then," said Dumbledore, after another short pause, "I think you can open that trunk."
"I don't want to," replied Lena immediately, balling up her fists. "I don't... I can't."
"You will always feel the pain, Lena," said Dumbledore softly. "You will always feel it because you will always love him. And Time will not heal the wound." He leant in closer to her. "But your conviction is stronger than your affection. You did the right thing when he sent you that message, and I believe that you will continue to do the right thing, no matter what."
He gazed into her eyes with an intensity that almost made Lena forget to breathe.
"I trust you, Lena."
So Lena allowed all the fear, hurt, anger, longing, frustration and misery that she had been keeping locked up in a small, deep-down space inside of her to emerge.
The temperature in the kitchen dropped, and the lights began to flicker. The pots, tins, bowls and plates on the benches slowly began to rise in the air, as did all the unoccupied chairs around the table.
Then a single tear escaped the corner of Lena's left eye and rolled down her cheek, and all the objects in the air gently floated back down, and the warmth returned as the lights stopped flickering.
Lena wiped the tear off her jaw, and quietly asked Dumbledore, "How's Harry?"
He tilted his head to the side. "You haven't written to him?"
She smiled sadly. "I've thought about it," she admitted. "But what on Earth would I say?" Swallowing hard, she added, "I don't know if he even wants to hear from me."
Dumbledore stared at her, tapping his fingers against the table. "I don't know if you are aware," he began, "but a month ago, Harry was left alone in my office, waiting to speak to me. Naturally inquisitive boy that he is, he noticed the cabinet door to my Pensieve was open, and decided to investigate. He found himself taking a dive through my memories of several of the Death Eater trials at the conclusion of the last war – including that of your parents."
Lena's eyes widened. "No," she said, her throat suddenly quite dry, "no, I wasn't aware of that."
"I think he found the experience quite unnerving," said Dumbledore. "After all, it can be quite different to see something with your own eyes instead of simply hearing about it. Nevertheless, he told me he couldn't imagine what it must have been like for you as a child."
The corner of Lena's lips turned slightly upwards. "He's an uncommonly kind boy," she murmured.
"Remarkably selfless," agreed Dumbledore. He looked around the kitchen, seemingly interested in the spacious area.
Lena narrowed her eyes. Feigned interest. He was avoiding telling her something else.
She folded her arms. "So why did he initially want to talk to you? From what I understand, you weren't offering the same assistance with the Tournament that Karkaroff and Maxime were giving their Champions."
Dumbledore turned his gaze back to her and sighed. "So little slips past you, does it not? Very well, Harry had come to my office because he wished to tell me of his most recent dream."
Lena raised an eyebrow. "A dream?"
"Yes, but really more of a vision. One of Voldemort."
She gripped the edge of the table tightly, and stared at Dumbledore. "What?"
Straightening in his seat, Dumbledore folded his hands in lap. "A consequence of the fragment of Voldemort's soul that resides inside Harry. For a few moments, Harry was able to see where Voldemort was, and what he was doing." He pursed his lips, before continuing, "It was the second occasion in the past year that he had done so."
"When was the first?" asked Lena, her voice very quiet.
"Last August."
It was like a punch to the gut. Lena had seen Harry almost half-a-dozen times since then, and exchanged even more letters. How could he have kept something like that from her?
'Because he doesn't trust you,' said a small, internal voice. 'He thought if you knew that Voldemort's strength was returning, you'd go running right back into his arms.'
That angered Lena. True, she hadn't known for sure what she'd do until the opportunity had presented itself, but she'd thought Harry had more faith in her.
"Perhaps it is best you don't contact him for the present."
Lena's attention snapped back to Dumbledore. "Why?" she demanded, her voice harsher than she'd intended.
Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the answer had already formed in Lena's mind.
"You're worried that the visions will work both ways," she said. "That even if Voldemort doesn't realise Harry is a Horcrux, he'll figure out they have a connection and find a way to exploit it."
"And I would rather that neither of us were in a position with Harry which would prove a tempting opportunity for him," explained Dumbledore. "Certainly not until we know how aware Voldemort is of the connection."
Lena nodded. "I see."
"And regarding Harry's being a Horcrux," continued Dumbledore, "there is something else you should know. During the ritual to regain a proper body, Voldemort used Harry's blood."
Lena frowned. "Used? As in he now has some of it running through his veins?"
"Correct."
Her mind began to whir. "But Lily Potter's sacrifice – that put a protective enchantment in Harry's blood, one meant to keep Voldemort from harming him. If that's now inside him too–"
"Voldemort can now touch Harry without fear of pain, yes," said Dumbledore. "But–"
"But it also creates another bond between them," muttered Lena, more to herself than him. "Voldemort carries the sacrificial protection inside him, which means as long as he is alive..." She stopped, looking at Dumbledore questioningly. "I'm right, aren't I?"
Dumbledore smoothed back his long white hair. "Truthfully, I don't know. As far as I am aware, there is no precedent for any of this. But if we are speaking of possibilities rather than certainties, then yes, I believe it is."
Lena, on the contrary, found it very nearly unbelievable. There was a chance that even if Harry sacrificed his life to destroy the piece of soul inside of him, he might not die. In a way, Voldemort's resurrection may have saved his greatest enemy's life.
It was almost laughable.
But the talk of Lily Potter had made Lena remember something else.
"So, what's going to happen with Snape?" she asked Dumbledore. "You made the fact he was spying for you during the last war public."
Dumbledore appeared slightly surprised by their conversation's change in direction, but nonetheless answered, "Voldemort believed in the final months of the war that Severus was only pretending to spy for the Order, and feeding us only the information he wanted us to know." He looked down at his hands for a moment, then back at Lena. "I sent Severus to Voldemort within a few hours of the Dark Mark summoning all who are branded with it. Severus told him that he had remained at Hogwarts for the last fourteen years, gathering information on me, in order to divulge it in the event of his return."
Lena crossed her arms. "And Voldemort bought that?" she said sceptically.
"To the best of my knowledge."
She fidgeted with the edge of her shirtsleeves for a little while. Dumbledore, sensing she was trying to make up her mind on whether to say something or not, patiently waited.
"Snape was in love with Harry's mother," said Lena finally, "wasn't he? That's why he became a spy for the Order."
Dumbledore stared at her with an unreadable expression for half-a-dozen seconds. Then, taking off his half-moon spectacles, he let out a low, mirthless laugh.
"Your deductive reasoning skills really are exceptional, Lena," he remarked, wiping the glasses on his robe-sleeve. He put them back on and peered at her through them. "How long have you known?"
"I figured it out sometime last November, I think," replied Lena quietly. "Remus mentioned that he and Lily were friends before they came to Hogwarts, but there was a falling out in their Fifth Year." She twisted a lock of hair around her finger. "When I was at Hogwarts, I always wondered what reason you could possibly have for trusting him." She smiled bitterly. "Of course it was love."
"It is an immensely powerful force," said Dumbledore.
Lena half-snorted, recalling Astris' recount of Hecate and her plan to rewrite Time. "And extremely dangerous."
"Yet you seem to have wholeheartedly embraced it," said Dumbledore mildly.
Lena gave the old wizard a withering look. "Yes," she pointed out, "but then I've never exactly been one to stay away from immensely powerful and extremely dangerous things, have I?"
The black mark directly above her heart would always be a reminder of that.
Fun fact: This story is now officially longer that the actual OotP book. Merlin's beard.
Response to Mika's review of Chapter 39: Yes, I love van Gogh too, and I thought his paintings would really resonate with both Lena and Remus. I was originally going to write a longer scene where Lena told Remus more about van Gogh and his life, but I felt it would be too much of a tangent. That's great to hear your enjoying the Hecate stuff; considering she's the goddess of magic in Greek mythology, I thought a version of her deserved a place in Rowling's Wizarding World. Regarding David Thewlis: I guess the version of Remus I see in my head when I'm writing this story is the one I see when I'm reading the books - someone who looks a bit like Thewlis, but is younger and doesn't sound like him. But I try to leave it up to the reader to decide how they want Remus to look (other than the basics: tall, skinny, brown hair, scarred) and sound. But it's kind of cool that what I wrote for him last chapter invoked a version of Thewlis for you :)
Thoughts on this chapter? I'd love to hear them :)