Here we are: the start of the Half-Blood Prince section of To Be Human. It might not be what people were expecting, but I hope you enjoy anyway :)
Saturday 20 April, 1996:
The clouds were pink, orange and gold as the sun set in the north Switzerland sky. The dying light cast a glow over everything in the garden, including Lena as she sat on the grass, leaning back against the great oak tree, engrossed in her book.
Standing at the back door, Remus watched her, well aware of the puppy-like expression on his face. He was supposed to be calling her in for dinner, but the sight of her was so absolutely sublime that it had knocked the breath out of him. Despite the coolness of the air, she was barefoot, wearing a navy, knee-length dress and a lightweight grey jumper. Her hair, worn half-up, half-down, rippled ever-so-slightly in the gentle evening breeze, and she was exuding a rare sense of tranquillity.
It was four days since she had taken the new version of Moramortis, and with the lingering pain she was experiencing from the injection, Dumbledore had insisted that Remus join her at the house in Switzerland for a few days while she recuperated. But today she had felt back to normal, and so they would be leaving for England the next morning.
He knew they had to return, but watching her now, Remus couldn't help but dream of a life where there was no war, no Voldemort, no Orb, and Lena could always look this peaceful.
"Have I got something on my face?"
He started as Lena's voice rang out across the garden. Her eyes hadn't shifted from the page she was reading, but they didn't need to – she was exceptionally good at perceiving what was happening around her without looking.
"Sorry," he said, his hands in his pockets as he walked over to her, "I just... got lost in your beauty."
This time, she looked up, her expression almost reproachful. "You're a terrible flirt, Remus Lupin," she told him, her voice light. "And I do mean that in the sense you are very bad at flirting."
He stopped in front of her, looking down with a faint smile. "Oh, you think so?"
"Yes. You're incredibly lucky you have me, because you wouldn't have a chance of picking up other women with cliché lines like that."
Temporarily forgetting about the dinner waiting for them inside, Remus joined her on the grass. "So, how do you suggest I improve?" he inquired with faux-sincerity.
She snorted, her gaze returning to her book. "Oh no," she replied, "you're not getting any help from me. I like the fact that I don't have to worry about other women throwing themselves at you." She paused, before adding carelessly, "Even Tonks' crush seems to have frittered away, now she realises how utterly mad you must be if you're in love with me."
Remus didn't argue. Until a few months ago, he'd sensed that Lena's cousin was, at least in some small way, attracted to him. But after witnessing part of Lena's breakdown over her parents' escape from Azkaban, Tonks had appeared to have gone off him. As flattering as the crush had been, he was certainly relieved it was no longer an issue.
"What are you reading?" he asked instead. The book's cover was obscured by her lap.
Lena glanced back up at him. "A collection of poetry by a Muggle, Pablo Neruda," she answered. "An English translation, of course – my Spanish is pretty dire."
He lay down on his side, absentmindedly tracing a tendon in her foot with his finger. "Any that are particularly good?"
She smiled at him. "Well, there's a bit in Sonnet 17 that I quite liked." She cleared her throat, and recited:
"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way..."
When she finished the excerpt, Remus let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "That's..." he searched for the right word, but they all seemed inadequate.
But Lena knew what to say. "An absolute truth," she murmured.
"Yes," whispered Remus. His stomach fluttered, and he thought, 'Merlin, I'm positively full of clichés today.'
The garden was silent for a little while, with the exception of a far off bird's trill.
"It was good to see you feeling so much better today," said Remus eventually. "Even if it does mean our little holiday here is at an end."
Lena nodded slowly. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, and he could tell at once she was internally debating whether or not to say something.
He sat back up, concerned. "What is it?"
"Oh, it's nothing," Lena assured him, patting his hand. "I was just remembering something Healer Ghali and I spoke about." She hesitated, then continued, "There's all these side effects to the new Moramortis, but the one thing it doesn't do is what the old one did."
Remus stared at her, confused. Then his eyes widened as it hit him. She was talking about the infertility.
He tensed. "Are you saying–"
"No," she said quickly. "I still won't be able to get pregnant. After two years of those injections, my ovaries are, you know..." she snapped her fingers, "kaput." A shadow passed over her face. "But it made me think about what you said to me when I told you that was my situation." She smiled sadly. "Remus, you would make such a wonderful father."
"But I have no interest in being one," he replied, a little too zealously. "I told you, I don't want children."
Lena shook her head, almost pityingly. "What you don't want," she said gently, "is to be a werewolf. Please don't insult my intelligence, Remus. We both know very well that your lycanthropy is the only reason you don't want to be a father." She paused, then amended, "Well, that, and my own inability to become pregnant."
"Lena–" began Remus, ready to outline all the ways in which a werewolf being a parent would be terrible, but she stopped him by putting a finger to his lips.
"I'm not looking for an argument," she said. "Especially over something that could only ever be hypothetical." She moved her finger from his lips to cup his cheek. "I just wish I could make you see the kind, brilliant man I do when I look at you."
Remus was nearly completely overwhelmed. His heart swelled, but at the same time, felt as though it was on fire. He reached up, enclosing her hand with his, and gently removing it from his cheek. But he kept a hold of it, bringing it to his lips and softly kissing the back of it. Gazing into her eyes, he whispered, "How do you do it, my love? How do you steal our hearts and lock them away so that we can never get them back, no matter what we do?"
He didn't need to explain who the rest of the 'we' was. She knew perfectly well.
"You make me sound so cruel," said Lena, a hint of sadness in her voice.
Remus frowned. "No, not cruel." He gestured to the horizon. "You see that sunset? It doesn't try to captivate us, to make us feel, but still it does – because that is simply its nature."
She tilted her head to the side, the corners of her mouth turning upwards. "Are you saying I'm like a sunset?" she said teasingly.
He grinned. "Is that a better attempt at flirting than before?" he responded slyly.
Lena laughed, a sound of warmth and delight, as one of the last rays of light shone across her eyes, making them sparkle, and Remus could not imagine a more perfect moment.
Tuesday 16 July, 1996:
A tapping on his neck broke Remus' reverie that had begun when he'd looked up at the bleak, grey dawn sky. He glanced down at his shoulder, where Mortimer perched, looking at him anxiously.
"Sorry," Remus muttered to the Bowtruckle, and resumed walking down the steps that led up to the Hogwarts' entrance hall. The Order had been using the school as a temporary base since the summer holidays had begun. They'd moved everything out of 12 Grimmauld Place the morning after the battle at the Department of Mysteries, the future of the house uncertain now that Sirius was dead. Of course, that included all of his and Lena's things. He'd been unsure of where to go, until Kingsley had kindly offered Remus his sofa as a place to sleep. The arrangement worked out well – the Auror was rarely home, especially now with his position as bodyguard to the Muggle Prime Minister, so they didn't get under each other's feet. It was where he was heading now; once he was outside of the Hogwarts' gates, he would Apparate back to Kingsley's flat in Hammersmith.
A strong wind blew as Remus continued down the winding path to the gates. It was a dark and cold summer, but he welcomed the unusual gloom of the season. If it had been sunny and warm, he would have felt as though the elements were mocking him. As it was, the weather complimented his misery, matching the grim, desolate expression Remus had worn on his unshaven face for a whole month now.
That was how long it had been since Voldemort had taken Lena, and they were no closer to finding her now than they'd been back then. There had been a few times when someone in the Order claimed to have found a lead to her whereabouts, but they had all only led to dead ends.
His sleep had been broken and infrequent, but it was enough time for nightmares to take hold, showing him all the terrible possibilities of what Voldemort might be doing to Lena. Harry had told him, when he and some of the other Order members had greeted him at King's Cross station, that Lena had made it very clear to her former mentor that she had no intention of joining him in any sense. Remus didn't want to believe that Voldemort would hurt her, but surely such a declaration would have enraged him, and people who made Voldemort angry didn't usually get off lightly – or even alive.
He felt useless. He knew he was a reasonably skilled wizard of above average intelligence, but he was by no stretch of the imagination a genius, like Lena or Voldemort, or Dumbledore. That was not something he needed reminding of – although Valeriya had been more than happy to point it out when she'd visited a couple of days after Lena's abduction. She'd been alerted to what had happened by Dumbledore, and after paying the headmaster a visit, she had arrived on the doorstep of Kingsley's flat, much to the shock of its tenant.
Staring at the bowl of cereal he didn't really feel like eating, Remus heard a loud, impatient knock on the door.
"I'll get it!" Kingsley called out, racing to the door with his shirt only half-buttoned.
The knocking didn't stop until Kingsley opened the door. Remus heard the voice loud and clear from the small kitchen.
"Where is Lupin?" demanded Valeriya, pushing past a surprised Kingsley, who drew his wand.
"Who are you–"
"It's fine, Kingsley," said Remus, standing up and going into the living room where they were. "This is Lena's aunt, Valeriya Dolohov."
Kingsley's eyebrows shot up. "Dolohov?" Evidently, he'd been unaware of Lena's connection to that particular Death Eater.
"Yes," snapped Valeriya. "Now," she spared a brief glance at his still-drawn wand, "put that away before you get yourself hurt." Not waiting for him to respond, she turned her attention fully upon Remus. "Well, I hope you're proud of yourself."
Remus glared at her. "Excuse me?"
She pointed a finger at him threateningly. "This would not have happened if you hadn't dragged Lena into Dumbledore's band of merry morons."
"I did not drag Lena into anything!" said Remus angrily. "It was her choice to join the Order!"
"And she chose it because you would have joined it no matter what! Instead of doing the sensible thing, and leaving for the other side of the world."
Remus took a deep breath, struggling to control his temper. "If you want to blame me for what happened," he said, his voice strained, "then fine – go ahead. But at least help us try to find her."
"Find her?" repeated Valeriya incredulously. "Are you an idiot? This isn't some run-of-the-mill kidnapper we're dealing with, this is Lord Voldemort. Unless werewolves have some wondrous, limitless tracking ability you've been keeping secret, you're never going to break through whatever protective enchantments he's put around wherever she is."
"Dumbledore is doing–"
"What he's doing," interrupted Valeriya, "is giving you false hope to stop you going off on any suicide missions." Her tone became slightly less acerbic. "Look, the only way Lena is getting out of wherever she is being held is by herself." She grimaced. "We've just got to hope that's before the last Moramortis injection runs out, because it's possible she might be just stubborn enough to refuse to tell Voldemort why all her organs are shutting down if it happens. Or alternatively, she gives in and tells him about the Orb, which would create a whole other and much worse problem."
Kingsley was looking between Remus and Valeriya with a blank expression, but he had the sense not to interrupt and ask what they were talking about.
"Well, that's all the more reason we should keep looking for her!" argued Remus.
"Wizarding Britain is in an open state of war now," said Valeriya bluntly. "If I were you, I would just focus on staying alive, because that's the only way you can really be of use to her at the moment."
She turned around to go, but Remus hadn't finished. There was one other terrible possibility weighing on his mind.
"What if she doesn't want to escape?" The words made his mouth dry, but he pressed on. "What if Voldemort finds a way of making her, well– " he almost retched, but managed to spit out, "his?"
Valeriya looked back at him. "Voldemort abandoned her when she felt like she had no one else," she said quietly. "Lena is not a forgiving person."
"I know, but..." Remus swallowed. "Isn't there a possibility he'll find some way to do it by force? I know she could withstand an Imperius Curse, but he's got to have other ways of controlling people. So what happens if he can do that to Lena, and make her join him?"
For a few seconds, Valeriya continued to stare at him. Finally, she shrugged.
"Then I suppose we're all fucked."
Another gust of cold wind made Remus pull his overcoat around him tighter, and he winced. The gesture had made him brush against the not yet fully-healed wound on his chest from the full moon a couple of weeks ago.
It had been his worst transformation since the first full moon after Voldemort killed James and Lily, and Sirius and Peter's confrontation. Somehow, Moony knew that Lena had been taken from him, and the wolf was furious that Remus had allowed it to happen.
He looked over at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, remembering the morning he'd woken up in there, covered by Lena's robe as she sat on a log, watching over him. She'd chased after him, unafraid of being attacked by a werewolf, but terrified that something else would hurt the beast.
'You mad woman,' he thought. 'You wonderful, ferocious, positively insane woman.'
He missed her desperately. It was like someone had cut off one of his limbs.
"Remus?"
He blinked, looking away from the Forest, searching for the source of the voice.
It was Maggie, walking up the path to the castle, carrying a box of what he suspected were magical plant clippings for the Order to use as potions ingredients.
"Hi, Maggie," he greeted her as they stopped in front of each other. He was unable to keep the glumness out of his voice.
She inclined her head. "Did you have surveillance duty last night?" she asked.
Remus nodded. "Yeah, but it was all quiet."
Maggie smiled bitterly. "Wish I could say that was reassuring, but–"
"But it probably means they're planning something big soon," he finished for her, and they exchanged a dark look.
When Maggie had found out what had happened to Lena, she had promptly demanded to be allowed to join the Order. At first, Remus had firmly refused, but she had quickly provided enough arguments – the least of which was that as a Muggle-born, she had more right than anyone else to fight against Voldemort – for him to relent. He'd set up a meeting between her and Dumbledore, and then she'd been there the next time the Order had congregated.
After all, it wasn't like they were really in a position to reject help – with Sirius dead and Lena gone, their firepower was severely depleted.
'And Emmeline,' Remus had to remind himself. The witch had been murdered in London, not far from 10 Downing Street, the previous week.
Sturgis Podmore, at least, had been released from Azkaban following the battle at the Ministry, and the Weasley twins, having officially left Hogwarts, had finally been allowed to join up. Even Fleur Delacour, to whom Bill had recently become engaged, was helping the Order, particularly through her European connections.
But no one would argue that if back-up was needed in a fight, Lena would have been the preferred reinforcement.
"Well," said Maggie, breaking the brief silence between them, "I should let you get back home, you look exhausted."
"Thanks," mumbled Remus.
Maggie glanced at Mortimer, who was still clinging to Remus' shoulder. "Bye, Mortimer," she said to him with a tiny wave.
The Bowtruckle gave her a mournful squeak in response.
She went to walk past Remus, but paused to wordlessly give him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. Then she adjusted the way she was carrying the box, and continued on her way to the castle, while Remus set off for the gates again.
Finally reaching his destination, he nodded at Hestia, who was on duty there. She gave him a half-hearted smile and opened the gate for him. He slipped out, and free at last of the anti-Apparition wards of Hogwarts, Disapparated away.
Wednesday 31 July, 1996:
It was grisly tidings Remus brought to Harry's sixteenth birthday celebrations at the Burrow.
"There have been another couple of Dementor attacks," he announced, as Molly passed him a large slice of birthday cake. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it – well, frankly I'm surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius' brother, Regulus, only managed a few days as far as I can remember."
He looked down at the birthday cake, and his stomach clenched. He knew he hadn't been eating enough since Lena's disappearance, but sometimes food – particularly something as sweet as this – just felt so hard to swallow. However, he didn't want to cause Molly any offence, so he picked up the slice and had a nibble.
But it was his words, not his reluctance to eat cake, which were met with disapproval from the Weasley matriarch.
"Yes, well," she said, frowning, "perhaps we should talk about something diff–"
"Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?" asked Bill, who was being plied with wine by Fleur. "The man who ran–"
"– the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?" Harry interrupted, looking thoroughly unnerved. "He used to give me free ice-creams. What happened to him?"
"Dragged off, by the look of his place."
As the gloomy birthday tea continued, Remus closely observed Harry. He hadn't since him since King's Cross station three-and-a-half weeks ago, and was wondering how the boy had been coping. So instead of leaving straight after the meal was finished, he tapped Harry on the shoulder and quietly asked if he wanted to talk outside, as inside was crowded by the many inhabitants of the Burrow.
"It seems pointless to ask," he said to Harry as they stepped outside into the almost-darkness, "but how are you doing?"
Harry half-smiled, but it was a humourless expression. "Bloody awful. And you?"
Remus snorted, leaning against the wall of the ramshackle house. "Much the same."
"Dumbledore told me there haven't been any real leads to finding her."
"No," agreed Remus morosely. "She might as well have vanished into thin air." He hesitated, before venturing, "You haven't been having any visions–"
"Of Voldemort in the present?" Harry shook his head. "No. Dumbledore doesn't think Voldemort wants to go back inside my mind anytime soon, after his last experience there. And he must be using Occlumency, because I haven't felt so much as a prickle all summer."
Remus nodded slowly. He'd thought as much, but he'd just wanted to make sure it wasn't like the previous summer when Harry had been hiding such a thing from them. He'd have to let Sirius know–
"Oh, fuck," he muttered under his breath, closing his eyes. He'd done it again.
"What's wrong?" came Harry's nervous voice.
"It's nothing," said Remus quickly, opening his eyes again. "I just..." He sighed. If anyone would understand, it was Harry. "I just forgot for a moment that I can't speak to Sirius."
Harry's expression immediately became understanding. "I keep doing that too," he admitted. "I'd hear one of the Dursleys say something stupid, and I'd think, 'I'll have to tell Sirius that, it'll make him laugh', and then I'd remember..." He swallowed, staring down at the ground. "I can't. Because he's gone." He glanced back up at Remus. "And when I got my OWL results, the first person I wanted to tell was Lena."
That hurt like hell. Remus' eyes almost watered up, and it was all he could do to stop his voice from cracking when he said, "I heard you did very well."
"Passed everything – except Divination, but that doesn't really count."
"And an Outstanding in Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Remus – Dumbledore had told him the news. "Of course, as a former teacher of yours in the subject, I can't say I was surprised to hear it." He added quietly, "James and Lily would be so proud of you, Harry. And Sirius too."
Harry smiled briefly, but it slipped from his face. "Sometimes, when Ron complains about his parents, or Hermione decides she doesn't want to spend the holidays with hers, I want to yell at them," he confessed. "Make them understand how lucky they are."
Remus looked at him sympathetically. "You know," he said, "I was very close with my mother. We argued much less than I think most parents and children do. But her death is still the one I feel the most guilt about."
"Why?" asked Harry, looking confused. "What happened?"
"She died very suddenly when I was twenty," he explained. "A blood clot. And I was on a mission for the Order at the time."
"I'm sorry. But why would you feel guilty about it, if it was from a natural cause?"
"Because I wasn't there when it happened," answered Remus, his throat constricting slightly as he remembered the day he learned of her death. "And it doesn't matter how many things you did right while they were alive – if you don't have the chance to say goodbye to someone you love before they die, if you weren't with them until the end, there will always be a small hole in your heart. You won't fix it. You just have to learn to live with it." He gave Harry a tiny smile. "I'm telling you this because you never had a chance to learn, like Ron or Hermione or I did, that a parent doesn't expect their child to do every single little thing they tell them, or to spend every minute they possibly can with them, or to be perfect. All they want to know is that at the end of the day, their child will be all right. So that's what saying goodbye is all about – letting them know you're going to be okay. Even if you don't really believe it."
Harry took a moment to let this sink in. Then, he hesitantly said, "But not every parent."
Remus drew his lips into a thin line, as the image of Bellatrix flashed in his mind. "No, unfortunately there are some people who have children who don't fulfil their duty as a parent," he said tightly. "And sometimes, that neglect doesn't work out so well for them."
"It definitely didn't work out for Rodolphus," muttered Harry.
Well, Remus couldn't disagree with that. The body of Lena's father had been discovered in one of the chambers in the Department of Mysteries after he'd left the Ministry that night. It hadn't been clear whether he died in the heat of battle or if it was more of an execution, but Remus did know it was Lena who had killed him; according to Harry, she had claimed responsibility while they were in the Atrium.
He assumed Voldemort was delighted by the fact Lena had killed her father, even if it meant he had one less Death Eater. It was exactly the kind of thing the little girl of whom he'd been so fond would do.
Remus just hoped to whatever gods may be that wherever Lena was, she hadn't reverted to any other childhood quirks – like a blind devotion to the man who wanted nothing more than to see the boy standing in front of him dead.
It must have been written across his face that he was thinking of Lena, because Harry reached out and touched his elbow.
"We're going to get her back, Remus," he said, sounding like he was trying just as hard to convince himself. "I don't know how, but we will."
Yet summer turned into autumn, and Lena was still gone. Every few weeks or so, someone from the Order would announced they'd got a lead from a source, and despite Remus' head telling him not to be naive, a tiny flame of hope would be ignited in his heart – only to be coldly extinguished when the lead inevitably turned out to lead to nowhere.
Remus began to dread full moons more than ever before. Time was not lessening Moony's anger, and Remus could barely move for an entire day after a transformation because of the self-inflicted wounds. These injuries, combined with the physical effects of the stress of losing Lena, made him look more ill, tired and old than he ever had in his life. His hair was liberally streaked with grey, including the scraggly beard that was a consequence of rarely shaving. He was pallid, with large purple shadows under his eyes from nights of broken – if any at all – sleep, and was skinnier than usual, his protruding ribs visible even underneath a jumper. He looked so awful that the other members of the Order were starting to flinch whenever they saw him. His dark, grim mood didn't do anything to remedy this.
Reports that the werewolf Fenrir Greyback was starting to attack more regularly only made everything worse. Remus had not come face-to-face with the monster since the night he was bitten over thirty years ago, but he'd heard much of Greyback, particularly from the very few werewolves he knew, and there was no one in the world who he despised more, except Voldemort – and maybe Bellatrix too.
Under different circumstances, Remus probably would have been spying on other werewolves, who were allying themselves with Voldemort, to gather intelligence for the Order. But he got the sense that Dumbledore didn't think he was of the soundest mind to do undercover work, and so he continued with more general surveillance of suspected Death Eaters.
It was towards the end of September when Remus had an unexpected encounter. He'd just finished picking up supplies in Diagon Alley and had entered the Leaky Cauldron to Apparate from there back to Kingsley's flat, when someone called out his name.
"Good afternoon, Mr Lupin."
Remus stopped, looking around the almost deserted pub for the source of the voice. He found her sitting at a table in the corner, a pleasant smile on her face, and a half-empty goblet of wine in front of her. Remus frowned; she looked familiar, but he couldn't remember from where.
Seeing his confusion, the woman said, "But of course, we have never officially met." She didn't stand up, but extended her hand: "Theodora Konstantinidis."
From the Orkístike. Remus narrowed his eyes. He approached her table so that the couple of other occupants of the Leaky Cauldron wouldn't overhear him, but he didn't accept the proffered hand. "What are you doing here?" he asked abruptly.
If she was offended by his brusque tone, she didn't show it. "Meeting up with an acquaintance who resides here in London," she replied smoothly. "And I'm staying in this lovely establishment–" she gestured around vaguely, "–for a few days." She cocked her head, inspecting him. "Forgive me for my bluntness, but you're looking a little off colour – I suspect it's related to the mysterious absence of our mutual friend?"
He glared at her, and bent over so he was a little closer to her face. "Lena is not your friend," he hissed. "She has made it very clear that you are to stay out of her life."
Theodora, who was raising her goblet to take a sip, murmured, "Something that Lord Voldemort has made much easier now."
Remus barely managed to resist the urge to hex her. He was about to turn away and leave when she spoke again.
"We've been looking for her too, you know."
"Why?" said Remus scathingly. "Think if you find her, she'll be a little more inclined to join your cult?"
"No," she answered calmly, "because like you, we have no desire to see Lena under the thumb of Voldemort once more." She made a face. "Annoyingly, he's got her well-hidden."
"Tell me something I don't know," muttered Remus, rubbing his face tiredly.
"I could tell you where Valeriya sent the Orb."
Remus froze, staring at her. "And why," he said slowly, after long pause, "would I want to know that?"
Theodora shrugged. "In case Lena needs it."
"That thing," said Remus quietly, but with every bit of disgust he could summon, "almost destroyed her. Why the fuck do you think I would let it near her again?"
Her expression became much more serious. "Because there may come a day when it will be the only thing that will save her." She smiled, but there was no humour behind it. "And surely, if you love her, you will do anything to keep her alive."
A muscle twitched in Remus' jaw. It was the exact same dilemma they had faced before the Moramortis, when Lena was dying from the Nekrosía's poison. He had begged her to consider the possibility of taking back the Orb, but she had been adamant that she would rather die than do so. And after reading Astris' account of what had happened to Hecate, Remus had started to understand why – it was the sort of power that drove a person mad. Lena already struggled enough with that without the Orb.
'But it wouldn't have been as easy to abduct someone who possessed the Orb, would it?' he thought bitterly. 'She could probably deal with Voldemort with a snap of her fingers.'
And that proved the point – it was too much power. It was god-like, and he could still clearly remember the fear in her eyes from that day they spoke in her study.
'Because when I'm told that I'm the rightful successor to a woman who was worshipped as a goddess, there is a part of me that believes it.'
True, Lena was something of a narcissist. But Remus had seen enough of her in action to know that it wasn't a completely unfounded belief – Lena was extraordinary, in an almost inhuman way. And that made it impossible to entirely discard the idea that maybe, just maybe, she could master the Orb and not completely lose herself.
Remus took a deep breath, and sat down in the chair opposite to Theodora, putting his bag of supplies down next to him. "Tell me," he said, looking at her intently, "what do you think Lena would do if she reclaimed the Orb? What would she become?"
"The first true master of the Orb," said Theodora simply.
"But what does that mean?" he insisted, leaning forward. "Is she supposed to finish what Hecate couldn't do, and rewrite time?"
She looked at him blankly. "Do what?"
Remus stared back at her, equally uncomprehendingly. Then he understood.
"Sweet mother of Merlin," he breathed, leaning back in his chair. "You don't actually know. None of you do." He shook his head, and nearly laughed. "You don't even know what the Orb truly is."
"What are you talking about?" she asked sharply. "It was Hecate's invention, the heart of her power–"
He snorted. "You'd be so close if you were a bit more literal-minded," he remarked.
Her expression became annoyed. "Are you seriously pretending to know more about Hecate's Orb than a member of the Orkístike?"
Remus shrugged. "Well, yes. Because unlike you, I've actually read the account of Astris."
Theodora's eyes went very wide. "You can't have," she whispered. "No one has–"
He held up two fingers. "Two people," he corrected her. "Lena, and myself. She was given the documents by a friend, and translated them." He smiled sourly. "They make very interesting reading."
At once, she looked enthralled. "What does it say?" she questioned urgently, leaning in. "Does it speak of Hecate's accomplishments, the extent of her power–"
"It tells the tale of her destruction," answered Remus shortly.
"How–"
Remus cut her off. "Could the Orb be used to find Lena?"
Theodora appeared slightly miffed at his interruption; nevertheless, she told him, "Nobody can use the Orb unless they can survive picking it up." She gave him a dubious look. "I doubt you would want to try that."
No, he would absolutely rather not do that. "But it must emit some kind of magical signature, right?" he persisted. "And because of the connection, Lena's would be similar. So, what if there was some way to track her–"
"How do you think we usually find her?" said Theodora pointedly. "Yes, because of the Nekrosía, the Orkístike can identify Lena's magical signature, and track her down. But Voldemort has somehow managed to mask it." Seeing Remus' expression become worried, she hurriedly added, "Not because he's aware of the Orb, I imagine. It's quite possible that whatever he's done, it's simply to temporarily nullify all her magic, so she can't escape."
If Voldemort had somehow taken away her magic, Remus could only imagine how furious Lena would be with him – and that brought him a small amount of relief. But it quickly disappeared when he remembered that Valeriya had said the only way they would get back Lena was if she escaped herself.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath.
From Theodora's grave expression, it was obvious she shared the sentiment. "How long until Lena's next injection is due?"
Remus didn't bother asking how she knew so much about the Moramortis. Clearly, the Orkístike had sources everywhere.
'Except among Voldemort's camp,' he thought resentfully. Aloud, he said, "Three weeks, at the very most. After that..." he trailed off, the idea of Lena not getting her treatment too awful to bear.
"That's not a lot of time left," said Theodora anxiously.
"I'm aware," snapped Remus. He rubbed his face again, weighing up his options. "All right," he said finally, placing his hands on the table and leaning in slightly closer, "say if Lena still hasn't been found by then – if there was someone who could survive picking up the Orb, would they be able to use it to immediately locate her?"
"Possibly," replied Theodora uncertainly. "But it raises a whole lot of other questions: what happens to the Nekrosía inside of Lena if someone else bonds with the Orb? And even if someone could wield it, you have no idea what effect all that new power might have on them. We could end up with an even bigger problem on our hands."
"What if that someone was already incredibly powerful without the Orb, but was a good person?" asked Remus, an idea forming in his mind. "Someone firmly on the side of the light–"
"If the person you're thinking of is Albus Dumbledore," interrupted Theodora, her face darkening, "then you're an idiot. He would never go near the Orb, not for anything."
"You don't know how close he and Lena are," argued Remus. "If he knew it was the only way he could save her–"
"You might have read the account of Astris, Lupin," said Theodora, "but how much do you know of those prior to Lena who tried to master the Orb?"
"Very little," he admitted reluctantly.
She nodded. "I thought so. But I, on the other hand, have read everything that is available. If Dumbledore has read at least half of that – which I'm sure he has – he would not risk it, not even to save Lena's life. And trust me, we should be grateful for that." She sighed. "You have to understand, I was born into the Orkístike. The whole purpose of my entire life is to find someone who can inherit Hecate's legacy, and use that power to make this world a better place. There have been hundreds and hundreds of people before me with that purpose, and who have died without it being fulfilled. And much as we pride ourselves on the Orkístike being built upon knowledge, the truth is that for the longest time, it has been about faith. To us, Lena is proof that faith is justified. She may look upon us with nothing but disdain; nonetheless, we believe in her. And we will do whatever we must to free her from the clutches of Lord Voldemort – but I know for certain that it cannot be Albus Dumbledore who does it."
"Then who?" asked Remus desperately.
Without taking her eyes off him, she finished the last of her wine, then put the goblet back on the table. Instead of answering his question, she said, "After the incident with Lena's grandmother, Valeriya sent the Orb to Svartlager, and it remains there to this day. Do you know of it?"
He nodded. Lena had told him about it a couple of years ago, when he first started to learn about the Dark artefacts trade. Svartlager had once been a Wizarding fortress in the Norwegian archipelago of Svalbard, but for the last century had acted as a privately-ran warehouse that held many of the most dangerous magical objects in the world. It contained the sort of stuff that even the witches and wizards most deeply entrenched in the Dark Arts were reluctant to go near.
"Do with that information what you will," said Theodora simply, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to meet a friend for dinner."
Remus stood too, picking up the bag of supplies as he did. Theodora started to walk away, but Remus, not entirely sure of what had possessed him, softly called out to her, "It was love."
Theodora paused, looking at him oddly. "What was?"
He swallowed. "You asked what destroyed Hecate," he said quietly. "It was love."
She continued to regard him with a strange look for a few more seconds, then murmured, "Thank you for telling me." She inclined her head, and continued on her way.
Remus watched her go, as a resolve began to harden inside him.
'Three more weeks,' he told himself. 'If she's still missing after that, I go to Svalbard.'
Friday 11 October, 1996:
The stillness of the night was broken as a light rain began to fall around Hogwarts. Light at first, but it gradually began to pour.
Tonks pulled her robe around her tightly as she patrolled the outside of the school's boundary. Under different circumstances, she would have used her wand to create an umbrella, but she needed it ready to go in case of any attack.
Not that there had been any such occurrence yet. Neither she nor any of her fellow Aurors on patrol duty had encountered any Death Eaters trying to get into Hogwarts, although she suspected that was less due to their presence, and more to do with their fear of the Headmaster.
The ground was starting to turn into mud, and her feet made a squelching noise as she trudged along, which made her wince inwardly. She already had enough trouble being stealthy without that extra bother.
Of course, it was at that point, she had to slip over. "Bugger!" she yelped, falling backwards. Her bottom hit the ground with both a thud and a splosh. Hastily, she got back to her feet, getting more mud all over her in the process.
"Lumos," she muttered, once she was upright, using the glow from her wand to inspect herself.
It wasn't pretty.
She was just about to try a 'Scourgify' to get the mud off when a loud crack rang through the air like a gunshot.
Tonks tensed, forgetting all about her current predicament. Nobody's shift of guard duty was supposed to end for at least another hour, so who the hell had either come or gone? The noise had originated from somewhere ahead of her, in the direction of the main gates, and she took off at once.
As the gates came into view, so did a lone figure standing in front of them – although 'standing' was a tad generous. The person was swaying like they might keel over at any second.
"Halt!" shouted Tonks, pointing her wand at the figure as she approached, but whoever it was didn't react to her voice.
As she drew nearer, Tonks noticed the stranger was not holding a wand in their hand. Supposing that meant they didn't hold any immediate threat, she once again cast 'Lumos' in order to get a better look at them.
The sudden light proved more effective than her voice, as the figure stumbled to turn around to find its source, allowing Tonks to identify them. When she did, her jaw dropped open.
"Lena?!"
Her cousin was barefoot, wearing a plain black dress that stopped just past her knees. The long hair was plastered down from the rain, and her skin was even more eerily pale than usual. For a second, Lena stared at Tonks blankly, before a hint of recognition sparked in her eyes. Then she glanced down at her hands, which were clutching her stomach. Tonks followed her gaze.
Her hands were covered in blood and misshapen, as if all the bones had been broken. They were limp, but she seemed to be attempting to use them to feel her stomach. Then her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed.
"Shit!" Tonks ran over and knelt down beside the young woman sprawled on the muddy ground, unconscious. Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw why Lena had been holding her stomach. It was as though a huge chunk had been gouged out by something. Blood was flowing out, seeping into the mud and turning it red.
Instinctively, Tonks covered her mouth, worried she was going to throw up. Yes, as an Auror, she had seen a lot of unpleasant things, but never a wound this bad. What the hell could have done this? And to Lena, of all people?
'Get a grip,' she told herself. 'She's going to die unless you get help.'
Tonks had already lost one family member to the war this year. Even if she wasn't as close with Lena as she had been to Sirius, she'd be damned if she let it happen again on her watch.
It had been less than ten minutes since Dumbledore had sent him a Patronus message, but Remus was already hurrying through the corridors of Hogwarts, following Minerva as she led him to the hospital wing.
He had almost finished packing for Svalbard, intending to leave the next morning, when the Phoenix Patronus had appeared in Kingsley's flat, telling him that Lena had just turned up at the Hogwarts' gates, unconscious and seriously injured. Remus had only stopped to grab Mortimer and the small box containing Lena's next dose of Moramortis before Apparating to Hogwarts, where Minerva had met him at the gate.
Now, as they neared the hospital wing, the deputy headmistress said quietly, "It does look bad, Remus. Poppy is doing her best, but this is the sort of injury we would usually send straight to St. Mungo's–"
"No," said Remus fiercely. "Any place outside of Hogwarts isn't safe for her."
Minerva sighed. "Yes, that's exactly what Albus said. All right–" they had reached the entrance of the hospital wing, "–try to stay calm when you see her."
Remus clenched his jaw. Calm was the last thing he felt right now.
All the beds in the wing were empty, except for the one in the back right corner, which Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey, and Snape were crowded around. At the sound of them entering, Snape looked over his shoulder at them. His sallow face was unusually pale.
Remus' heart, which was already racing, felt like it would beat itself right out of his chest. Mortimer, who was in his coat pocket, peered out, his tiny eyes wide as he looked for Lena.
Then Snape moved, giving Remus a clear view of the bed, and he froze.
An unconscious Lena was lying on blood-soaked sheets. A distressed Madam Pomfrey was attempting to staunch her stomach with bandages, but she was simply bleeding through them. Dumbledore was leaning over Lena, moving his wand in complicated patterns, but if they were having any effect, Remus couldn't see it.
He jumped as he felt a hand tentatively placed on his shoulder. It was Minerva, her expression sombre.
"Why don't you take a seat, Remus?" she suggested gently, gesturing to the bed next to Lena's. At the sound of her voice, both Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore glanced around at him for a moment, before refocusing their attention on Lena.
Numbly, Remus did as Minerva said, not taking his eyes off Lena as he sat on the edge of the bed. His head hurt with the conflict of two emotions: the relief that she was finally back, and the fear that if she didn't stop bleeding, it wouldn't be for long.
Silently, he asked himself, 'Oh, Lena, what happened to you?'
What did happen to Lena? Well, you'll find out in the next chapter! Don't worry, you're still going to see those Lena & Voldemort scenes some of you were hoping for - I just found that doing it this way (the same period of time from two different perspectives, Remus' first and Lena's second) worked best.
Thank you to all the reviewers of the last chapter (10 house-points to both laraceleste and RyuuFuyuScarlet for finishing the Shakespeare quote!). Here are a couple of responses:
Qarz: I'm sorry you didn't like the scene in the Atrium. I was never intending to change much of the Voldemort/Dumbledore duel because it's one of the few demonstrations of their respective powers and skills in the series. I just couldn't figure out a way to condense it well and and still end the scene the way I wanted to. I thought there was enough original stuff happening in the rest of the chapter that would make up for inserting that Canon stuff.
Saberius Prime: Way back when I started writing this story, I did wonder if I had to kill Sirius... and quickly decided, yeah, I did. It's such an integral moment for Harry - not just because he loses someone he loves, but because it's partly the consequence of him acting too impulsively, and it also creates a discussion that allows Harry to understand Dumbledore better.
As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter too - especially because, as I said earlier, I know there were people looking forward to some more Lena and Voldemort stuff. I just really hope people didn't find it dull, or just filler. I think this is the first chapter I've done that has no PoV from Lena, so I'm really curious to know if that worked for you.