Wednesday 16 April, 1997:
"There is every chance that it could kill you."
"I'm well aware of that," replied Lena calmly, looking Dumbledore squarely in the eye. "But what alternative do we have?"
They were in the living room of the Swiss house, lit by lamplight as it would be at least another hour until the sun rose. Dumbledore had arrived not quite two hours ago, the earliest he'd been able to get away from Hogwarts after receiving the message from Lena about what was happening on Nordaustlandet. He had paced around the room as Lena – also standing – told him everything, while Remus sat on the sofa, offering little to say but watching the other two intently.
On Monday, when Remus told Lena that Valeriya had sent Hecate's Orb to Svartlager, she had seen in his eyes that he was afraid she would be angry with him for keeping it a secret for six months. But she hadn't been mad. She understood why he hadn't said anything – how many times had she told him she wanted nothing to do with the Orb? She wasn't even upset when he explained that if she had not escaped from Voldemort when she did, he would have gone to Svartlager to get the Orb and use it to find her. She would have gone to any lengths to find him if he was the one missing; it only made sense he would do the same for her.
But that didn't stop the dread from growing inside her as he spoke. Of course the Orb was the root of the plague spreading across Nordaustlandet, it had been stupid of her to not consider it – or perhaps just wilfully blind. Theodora had told her the first time they met that just because the Orb was not in Lena's immediate vicinity, it didn't mean that the connection was broken. But she had just been so desperate to believe that part of her life was over, especially once she'd started using Moramortis...
"You did not think that the IHO would find a treatment for your illness three years ago," said Dumbledore quietly. "Why not give them more time to find a way to stop this one?"
"If it had taken just one more week to create Moramortis, I'd be dead," Lena responded bluntly. "I was willing to rely on a fool's hope then because it was just one life at stake – mine. I will not leave six billion lives in the hands of desperate faith. Not without at least trying to fix my mistake first."
"We don't even know for certain that whatever has happened to the Orb is related to your bond with it–"
Lena scoffed. "Oh, please. You've pursued plenty of theories on the basis of evidence that was far more circumstantial. You know as well as I do that this has everything to do with my connection to it."
Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression unusually frustrated. "That does not guarantee that you will be safe from this disease it has created."
There was a short pause before Lena told him, her tone more gentle, "I'm not asking for your permission, Albus. I'm going to Svartlager to try to use the Orb to stop this. Maybe I will fail. But I can't sit by and do nothing."
He stared at her for a few seconds, then looked at Remus. "And you support this decision?" he asked, his voice strained.
Remus' gaze shifted to Lena for a moment. "Yes," he said finally, looking back to Dumbledore. "I hate it, of course, but I support it. If Lena thinks this is our best chance to stop this plague wiping out all life on Earth, then it's what we do. I trust her judgement."
Lena's stomach fluttered as she gave her husband a soft smile. I trust her judgement. It was just about the most romantic thing he could say.
With a sigh, Dumbledore sat down in one of the armchairs. He took off his half-moon spectacles and held his face in his hands for a little while. Lena eyed the blackened and shrivelled hand. It was hard to resist the urge to outright call him a hypocrite for his reluctance to accept her choice to put her life at serious risk, when the old wizard had essentially signed his own death sentence in the name of defeating Voldemort.
At last, he lifted his face and put the glasses back on, focusing his gaze on Lena. "What is your plan?" he asked her resignedly.
She swallowed. "Sunday is the earliest I'll be recovered from the side-effects of this last Moramortis injection. We can't afford to wait any longer than that. The IHO has put wards around Nordaustlandet to stop anyone from Apparating in, or using a Portkey, so flying is the only option. I'm not willing to put a Thestral's life at risk, so we'll use broomsticks."
"We?" interrupted Dumbledore, looking sharply at Remus. "You will go as well?"
"Remus will stay on the outskirts of the island, outside the perimeter of the infected area," explained Lena, "while I go further in to locate the Orb."
"But you do not know the actual location of Svartlager, do you?"
Lena shrugged. "I don't need to. Once I'm on Nordaustlandet, I'll be able to find the Orb because of our connection. When I do, I'll use it to recall the disease."
"And what if you don't want to give up the Orb after that?" inquired Dumbledore shrewdly.
Remus spoke up. "That's why I'm going. When the area is no longer infected, I'll join Lena, and–"
"I won't lose myself," Lena finished for him. "As long as he's with me, I'll be all right."
She and Remus smiled at each other for a moment. Just three years ago, she would never have believed there was a possibility that she could use the Orb again, but not be the monster it had made her ten years ago. Love had changed that. It had changed her.
When Lena turned back to Dumbledore, she saw, for just a split-second, an immense pain in his eyes. It was loneliness, she realised. A miserable solitude. Albus Dumbledore, unquestionably the greatest wizard of the twentieth century, who had spent nearly a hundred years teaching and helping others, knew he would die without experiencing real love – the kind that she and Remus shared. The kind of love that saved people.
The emotion disappeared as quickly as it had formed. "This is all dependent on the theory that you won't die once you set foot in the infected area," Dumbledore reminded her. "You could be dead long before you reach the Orb."
"Yes," admitted Lena, "but I don't think I will. I have... a feeling." There was no other way to explain it. She just had an innate sense that the Orb's disease wouldn't hurt her. Perhaps it was the Nekrosía inside her giving her an immunity. Or maybe it was because her heart, with its black mark, was telling her that Hecate's Orb still needed her.
Dumbledore looked like he still wanted to argue. Despite the hypocrisy, Lena felt a rush of affection for the old man. He did truly care about her, as more than just a placeholder for his long-dead sister.
But in the end, all he said was, "So be it."
Sunday 20 April, 1997:
Lena hated broomsticks. Valeriya never used them, so the first time Lena mounted one was at Hogwarts, in the flying lessons that were compulsory for First Years, and it was the first time she had not excelled in a class. She'd been competent, yes. But it had been clear to her, looking around at the other children from Wizarding families, that she was out of her element. So after flying lessons finished, she stayed away from broomsticks altogether.
Remus looked far more at ease as they began their descent to the southern edge of Nordaustlandet. She'd never actually seen him fly before, although she knew he had done so for several Order missions. She wondered if he'd taken to brooms naturally, or if James had helped him when they were at school.
She stumbled when they landed, but managed to stay on her feet. As she and Remus dismounted, they took in their surroundings. It was after ten p.m., but the sun still shone brightly in the sky because they were so far north. There would only be one hour of darkness that night. After that, there would be only light until the end of August.
It was also cold. Even with the heating spell on her thick black overcoat, Lena could still feel the chill, like a light breath on her skin. There was no ice on the rocky ground where they'd landed, but not far ahead, everything turned white.
'And further on, the white will have turned to black,' she thought. She closed her eyes, and tried to block out the sound of the wind, so she could hear...
Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.
Her eyes flew open. She turned to Remus, who was watching her closely.
"I can hear it," she told him. "The heartbeat." She pointed ahead. "It's coming from that direction."
Remus nodded. "Do you know how far the infection has spread?"
Lena reached her hand out, trying to feel the magical energy in the air. Her fingers twitched. Nekrosía. It felt different to the remnants in her body. Nevertheless, she recognised it.
"The perimeter has extended to about a mile away from here," she said. "Give it twelve more hours, and it'll reach here." She took a deep breath. "I need to get moving.
Remus dropped his broom and stepped closer to her, placing his gloved hands on her cold cheeks. "When you find the Orb," he said, "don't pick it up immediately. Take your time to think."
Lena half-smiled. "What shall I think about?"
"About why you're doing this," he replied. He was looking at her as if nothing else existed. "Because you want to help. Because you are so full of love, and compassion. Because you are not a god, but human. And I–" He broke off, biting his lip.
Lena put her hands over his. "Don't you dare say goodbye to me."
He let out a tiny chuckle. "Never." Leaning in, he kissed her lips softly, and for a moment, the cold seemed to disappear. Then he drew back and said, "Good luck." He let his hands fall to his sides, and Lena immediately missed the feel of them on her face.
She considered throwing herself into his arms and kissing him again with all her passion. But she was worried that if she held him, she wouldn't let go. So instead, she nodded, and said, "I'll see you in a little bit."
She mounted her broomstick again and took off, letting the heartbeat of the Orb be her guide. Within a minute, she was approaching the perimeter of the infected area. Lena slowed down to see what the twisted Nekrosía had done to the land.
There was no ice. Just black dirt. And the smell of death hung thickly in the air. All life, even the tiniest microorganism, had been drained.
It was time to find out if she was the one exception to the rule.
As soon as Lena crossed the threshold, she felt it. Not death. Not even excruciating pain. Just a strange tingling as the Orb's mutated magic enveloped her, trying to figure out why she was different. The heartbeat in her head became louder. Lena focused on it, ignoring the small uncomfortable twinges in her body as the Moramortis started to fight to keep the Nekrosía inside her dormant, and continued her search for Svartlager and what it contained. She flew low so she could clearly see the ground, which was littered with the corpses of dead birds.
The absolute absence of other life made her long for company. She wondered how Mortimer was doing. She had made Tizzy take the bowtruckle back to the house in Notting Hill with her the previous day. Mortimer hadn't been pleased about it, sensing that Lena was preparing to do something dangerous – well, more dangerous than usual.
She also thought about Rolf. A letter from him had arrived a few days ago, excitedly telling her that he would be back in Britain at the end of June, on vacation from his work in Brazil. He wanted to investigate the Weasley twins' joke shop, visit the Muggle cinemas, go out drinking until three o'clock in the morning. He wanted to do the things that ordinary twenty-one year olds did.
'An ordinary twenty-one year old in an ordinary world,' thought Lena. 'What would that be like? What would I be like?'
A world without the threat of Lord Voldemort, where her parents hadn't been Death Eaters. Would they have loved her? If they had, maybe she would have turned out like Draco. Or if they still hadn't, perhaps she would have been more similar to Sirius. After all, it was really because of Voldemort she'd wanted to be in Slytherin. With Bellatrix and Rodolphus around, maybe she would have wanted to be sorted into Gryffindor as an act of rebellion. She might have been closer to Oliver than Maggie at Hogwarts.
And what would Remus be like in a world without Voldemort? He would still have Sirius, James and Lily – even Pettigrew could have remained their friend. Maybe people like Dumbledore, not having to worry about a war, would have worked to improve the situation of werewolves. In such a life, perhaps Remus would have met another girl and settled down long before Lena had come of age. He could have been a father.
Harry would have his parents. There wouldn't be someone trying to kill him every year at Hogwarts, and he wouldn't be a Horcux, but free to live his life as he wished. At sixteen, exams, Quidditch and girls would be his biggest concerns.
Dumbledore would not have picked up that damned ring, his life extended for at least another decade or two, maybe more. Snape... well, he certainly would have been better off. Cedric Diggory undoubtedly would have a promising future ahead of him.
And most importantly, Lena wouldn't have touched Hecate's Orb. She probably wouldn't have even heard of it at the age of eleven. Consequentially, all life on Earth wouldn't have been facing annihilation.
It was after nearly an hour of flying that Lena found Svartlager. The Concealment spell around it, which masked the fortress as a snow-covered mountain, would no doubt have been effective, if not for the fact that the large, white mass was now surrounded by blackened land. As she allowed the broom to slowly sink back to the ground, the heartbeat in her head thudded even louder.
She dismounted the broom directly in front of the foot of the 'mountain' and walked forward with her hand outstretched. She pushed through the snowy illusion, and found herself before a black stone wall. Running her hand along it, she felt for the door. Instead, she came across a large hole. The rock, it appeared, had been disintegrated.
Leaving her broom propped up against the wall, Lena walked through the unintended entrance, igniting a ball of blue flames in her hand for light. She could tell that inside had once been a labyrinth to navigate, but this was no longer the case. Like the hole at the front, many of the walls had eroded away, leaving the space mostly open. This gave her a clear view of the other artefacts that Svartlager had held – or rather, the remains of them. The mutated Nekrosía had destroyed nearly everything. Statues had melted, cursed necklaces were barely recognisable, mirrors had shattered. In one chamber lay the corpse of some beast Lena couldn't identify. It was covered in a black substance, as though the poisonous magic had hardened into a shell.
And then she found it. The source of all the destruction.
Hecate's Orb sat upon the ground in the centre of what must have been a small vault, not much bigger than six feet square. She guessed it must have been kept in a case, until it had disintegrated that too.
By this point, the heartbeat felt like a hammering in her head, and that it would burst through her skull at any moment. There was the temptation to reach down and pick up the Orb straight away, if only it would stop the beating.
But Lena remembered what Remus had told her. Take your time to think. It wasn't easy with her head hurting so much. Nonetheless, she closed her eyes and retreated into her memory palace. The heartbeat wasn't as loud there, but it still made the imagined floor beneath her tremble, as though there was a small earthquake.
She remembered the power she had once wielded with the Orb. She had made dead flowers bloom again. She had made the ground move, shaping it as she desired. She had stopped time.
And she had killed Irina, draining the life from her body as the Nekrosía had been doing to the entire island. The Orb hadn't made her a monster – it had stripped away everything she'd hidden her true nature behind.
'That's not who you are now,' she told herself. 'You are not the same lonely little girl. You don't need to use power as an armour to shield yourself from the rest of the world. You can be sad, hurt, afraid.' Her lips formed a small smile, as she remembered the way Remus had looked at her. 'You can be human.'
She opened her eyes again, and threw the blue flames into the air, casting light over the wall-less vault. Then she reached down and picked up the Orb.
Remus was pacing along the shoreline when an invisible force hit him, almost knocking him off his feet. Regaining his footing, he looked in the direction that Lena had left.
He could feel the change immediately. He hadn't been able to sense the Nekrosía's presence as acutely as Lena, but he'd still felt something wrong in the atmosphere. Now, that feeling was gone.
'She's done it,' he thought.
Relief flooded him, washing away the terror that had gripped him since Lena had told him of the disease that was destroying all life on Nordaustlandet. He hadn't tried to stop Lena when she told him of her intention to come here and use the Orb, offering her only his faith and support, because he knew she needed it. But he had still been afraid that the last time he would ever see her alive was on this rocky beach.
He needn't have been so worried. Of course Lena had done it. She could do anything.
'Now she just needs to let it go,' he reminded himself
Picking up his broom from where he'd dropped it earlier, he mounted it and took to the sky. Although the Orb's magic had rescinded, the ground beneath him was still dead, as was all the wildlife who had stumbled onto the poisonous land. But as darkness finally began to fall, a snow-covered mountain came into view.
'That must be it. Svartlager.'
He flew down and landed in front of it. Walking forward, he passed through the illusion and the black fortress was revealed to him. Finding a hole that was large enough to walk through, he left his broom next to Lena's and entered, drawing his wand and igniting the tip to illuminate his surroundings.
Inside was a wreckage. The Nekrosía had spared nothing.
It took a few minutes of searching for Remus to spot Lena's silhouette, visible in a dim blue light, ahead of him. Not wanting to startle her, he approached carefully. As he drew closer, he saw that she was facing the opposite direction, standing quite still.
'Nox,' he silently incanted, and the light from his wand went out. Putting it in his coat pocket, Remus cleared his throat, and called out to her softly. "Lena, I'm here."
She didn't turned around, but after a moment, replied, "Yes."
He moved closer until he was only a few feet away. Lena's hands were in front of her, and he knew she was still holding the Orb. "You've done it, darling," he told her, using a tone in which one might speak to a frightened animal. "You stopped the disease." He smiled. "You saved the world, although most people will never know it. But I am so proud of you." He started to reach his hand out to touch her shoulder. "All you have to do now is put down the Orb."
His fingers were only inches away from her when they hit an invisible barrier. He frowned, his heart starting to beat faster as Lena spoke again.
"That's the problem, Remus. I can't."
A heart is only functional when it is part of a body. Consequentially, when Hecate's Orb was not connected to a witch or wizard, the power inside lay dormant. But ten years ago, when Lena first bonded with the Orb, its power – the Nekrosía – was activated. And although she had been physically separated from it five months after the bond had formed, some Nekrosía had remained inside her, meaning the connection was not broken. Hence, the Orb's power had still been active for the last ten years.
Lena was not an expert on nuclear physics; indeed, her knowledge of the subject was almost entirely limited to a vague awareness that such a thing existed. However, if her understanding had been a little greater, she perhaps would have explained the situation with the Orb using the following comparison.
Nuclear reaction is a process where two nuclei collide, producing one or more nuclides that are different from those that began the process. Nuclear chain reaction occurs when one single nuclear reaction causes an average of one or more subsequent nuclear reactions, thus leading to the possibility of a self-propagating series of these reactions.
Nuclear power plants operate by precisely controlling the rate at which nuclear reactions occur. Control rods are inserted into the core of a nuclear reactor and adjusted in order to control the rate of the nuclear chain reaction and, thereby, the power output of the station. When all control rods are fully inserted, they keep reactivity barely above zero, which quickly slows a running reactor to a stop and keeps it stopped. If all control rods are fully removed, the reactor quickly runs hotter and hotter, until some other factor slows the reaction rate.
Nuclear weapons, on the other hand, are specifically engineered to produce a reaction that is so fast and intense it cannot be controlled after it has started.
When Valeriya separated Lena from the Orb, it lost its controlling element. For ten years, the Nekrosía was active, but unused. Gradually it became too much for the Orb's black shell to contain, and the Nekrosía began to leak outside. First, it was in infinitesimal quantities – just enough to drain the life from the small microorganisms nearby. But the energy it collected caused the Orb's power to grow, meaning more Nekrosía would seep out, accumulate more energy by destroying whatever life it came across, and the Orb would absorb more power.
A self-propagating series of reactions.
The Orb, however, did not stop at simply draining life energy. At Svartlager, it was surrounded by other Dark magic, contained in the contents of the many vaults. And now, its power was great enough to take that Dark magic and add it to its own. The Nekrosía mutated. And it made everything around the Orb its own.
As soon as Lena picked up the Orb, she understood this. And she also understood what would happen if she now let the Orb go.
So when Remus asked her why she couldn't put it down, she turned around to face him and explain.
"If I let go," she said quietly, "all the Nekrosía I just recalled will flood back out. It will take your life and mine, and it will spread even faster than before. There will be nothing to stop it. And everything will die." She stared down at the black sphere in her hands. "Right now, I'm the only thing between this and complete annihilation."
A weapon of mass destruction.
Remus didn't speak for about ten seconds. "There has to be some way to destroy it," he finally said.
Lena looked back up at him. "There isn't."
He stared at her with an expression of utter helplessness. He opened and closed his mouth several times, clearly struggling with what to say, until he asked, "Are you in pain?"
"It hurt when I picked it up." That was something of an understatement. The pain had been excruciating. "But since I finished calling the Nekrosía back..." She shrugged. "I just feel numb."
Remus ran a hand through his hair. She could tell he was trying to get his head around the situation.
"We can work with this," he muttered, more to himself than her. "You can keep hold of the Orb, and still be yourself. It's going to be fine."
A lump formed in Lena's throat. She didn't want to tell him what had to happen now, because she didn't want to see the agony on his face. But she couldn't allow him this false hope.
She took a deep breath. "Remus, the reason I'm feeling numb is because it's already started. As every second passes, the Orb consumes more of my life. It's killing me, like everyone else before me who tried to Master it. I don't have much time left–"
"No," Remus interrupted her violently.
Lena continued as if he hadn't said anything. "I just wanted to see you before I–"
"No," repeated Remus, his fists clenched . "I won't let you die, I won't–"
She raised her voice. "Will you just shut up and let me finish? I'm not going to die, because if I do, then this will all have been for nothing! That's why I have to–" She broke off, feeling something wet on her face.
It was a tear, rolling down her cheek. Another soon followed on the other side.
"Have to what, Lena?" Remus' voice had dropped to a whisper, and his hands were pressed against the magical barrier she had put up to stop him from doing anything stupid, like trying to take the Orb out of her hands.
Lena closed her eyes for a few seconds, trying to organise her thoughts. "The Orb," she began, opening her eyes again, "is a heart. The reason why every other wizard and witch who attempted to Master it died is because a body is only supposed to have one heart. So this one," she raised the Orb slightly, "tries to destroy the original one in order to create stability. But this kills the Master, which severs the connection. Before now, that meant the Orb was forced back into its dormant state, until someone else came along to give it a body to serve. The thing is, I don't know if that would happen with me. The Orb has spent ten years amassing power by itself. Perhaps it no longer needs a Master to keep it active. But I do know it needs one to control it. And there's only one way to do that."
She moved the Orb so it was tucked into her side with one arm around it. Then she placed the other hand over her chest.
Remus' eyes widened. "What are you doing?" he croaked, his face paling.
Lena's breathing began to quicken. She tried to steady it as she said, "The Orb will give me enough power to make the change."
He looked at her as though she was insane. "Are you telling me," he said in a strained voice, like he might explode at any minute, "that you're planning to take out your own heart, and replace it with that?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do."
It took Remus a while to find his voice again. "You– but how... what the fuck will that do to you?" he demanded.
The tears began to fall faster from Lena's eyes. "I don't know," she said honestly. "I should still keep all my memories, but other than that, I don't–" A sob forced its way out of her throat, wracking her body. "I don't know!" she cried. "I don't know what's going to happen, Remus, and I'm so, I'm so scared."
Remus watched, aghast, as his wife wept. "Lena," he begged, his own eyes becoming wet, "Lena, please–"
"I don't know who I'm going to be," Lena choked out through her sobbing. "I don't know what this is going to do to my soul. I don't know anything except this is the only way I can keep you and everyone else safe."
He pushed against the barrier, but it was immovable. "Lena," he said helplessly.
Lena wiped her cheek, drawing ragged breaths. "I just need you to promise me something," she implored him. "You have to promise."
"What?" asked Remus hoarsely. She could tell he still hadn't fully accepted what was about to happen.
She waved her hand, and a pile of dust on the floor next to Remus' feet reconstructed itself into the case that had once held the Orb.
"After I take it out, I am going to give you my heart," she said, her lips trembling. "You have to put it in that case and close it. Once you do, you will be the only person who can open it. And if I..." her breath hitched, "... if what I become ever asks you to open it, you mustn't do it. No matter what I say."
Remus' expression was uncomprehending. "Why not?"
Lena swallowed. "Because it could be the only thing that ties me to who I am right now, and I might try to destroy it."
"Lena–"
"Promise me!"
"I promise," said Remus quickly. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, then refocused his desperate gaze on her. "This is the only way?" His voice cracked on the last word.
She nodded, and his shoulders slumped. He was finally accepting it. Which meant Lena could too.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Remus, I–"
"Don't you dare say goodbye to me."
His echo of her own words almost made her start crying again. But her body was growing weaker every second she delayed the inevitable. She was scared. More afraid than she'd ever been in her life. So she had to be brave. Braver than ever before.
"I wish we had more time," she said softly. "But it has to be now."
She could almost hear Remus' heart breaking. "I love you," he breathed.
Lena gave him one last smile. "I know."
Then with one hand, she pushed through her chest and ripped out her own heart. And with the other, she replaced it with the blackened heart of Hecate.
As her body started to seize up, she thrust her heart – around which a dark red shell had formed, making it the same size and shape as the Orb – into Remus' shaking hands. He instinctively did as she had asked, putting it inside the case and slamming the lid shut. As soon as he had, he looked back up at Lena.
Because her clothing covered her from neck to toe, he didn't see the black veins spreading across her body until they reached her face. Their eyes met, and Remus watched, frozen, as the pale blue-grey turned to black.
It was the last thing he saw before a cloud of black burst out of Lena, enveloping her.
A few seconds later, the cloud disappeared.
And so did Lena.
It felt so weird to write this chapter, because the ending has been in my head literally since I started writing To Be Human three years ago (if you go back and re-read the story, you'll probably find some pretty unsubtle foreshadowing). Of course, it doesn't live up to my expectations, but there was some kind of relief to finally putting it down in words.
Once again, a huge thank you to everyone who has followed/favourited To Be Human and anyone else reading, especially if you've been there since the beginning three years ago. It really means the world to me that you're interested in what I write :)