A/N: Sorry for the unreliable updating! I'm going to try and stick to a more solid schedule, but I can't make any promises. Thanks for the reviews! And the follows/favorites! Glad you guys are still interested ;)
CHAPTER XXIII
The Cave
[Hogwarts | February 1944]
It's been easier and easier for Tom to guess where to find Victoria. Recently, the options have narrowed to two: either the kitchens or the potions classroom. And since her raids on the kitchens are usually reserved for after midnight, he's presently headed straight for the dungeons. He supposes it is a bit odd that she prefers to be locked away underground, and that the only other person she has any extended contact with is Slughorn, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't prefer it that way. The door to the potions room is locked, but a quick Alohamora does the trick. After pushing the door open, his eyes immediately fall on a cloaked figure suspended from the ceiling, a noose looped round her neck, body limp and seemingly lifeless. The rope creaks as the body sways slightly. Tom's eyes widen instinctively, his breath catching in his chest for just a second before calmly striding over to her. He cranes his neck, cocking his head to one side, to peer into her pale face. When her eyes snap open, he staggers back a little.
"Just hanging out, I see." He says, poking her in the ribs, setting the pendulum in motion.
"I'm making progress." She chokes out, "But I got...stuck..." Tom drags over a chair and sets it underneath her dangling feet, and, grasping her around her middle, lifts her gently out of the noose and down to solid ground. There's a raw red ring around her neck where the rope dug into her skin, and a deep purple bruise beginning to blossom around it—her skin the canvas for a grotesque watercolor painting. Tom traces the mark with one of his long fingers. She doesn't wince.
"You're demented." He says, kissing her on the forehead. She smiles up at him. "So is it ready yet?"
"I said I'm making progress." She says, bustling over to the bubbling cauldron and scratching some illegible markings on the piece of parchment beside it. "Getting there, though. Slowly but surely..."
"How much longer?" Tom whines, taking a tendril of her hair and wrapping it around his index finger.
"I don't know." She says with a wrinkling of her nose, shoving him out of the way. "The trouble is, it's working quite well on me, but I don't know how it'll work on others..."
"But see, that's why we need to test it." Tom says, placing his hand in the way of her quill.
"You know how risky that would be. Unless you're eager to volunteer..."
"Really, Victoria? I can't believe you're suggesting..." A look of disgust contorts his handsome face.
"Alright alright...what do you want me to do then, hmmm?" She sighs, setting down her quill, turning her big black eyes on him now, shining despite the dim light.
"Bottle this up and bring it tonight." He says.
"Oooo is that an invitation? To one of your little meetings?" She teases.
"Yes." He says seriously. "But you must be on your best behavior." She winks, smiling impishly.
Lestrange is lounging with his feet on a desk, his shoes caked in mud, whistling something unrecognizable, but irritating just the same. Avery is at the chalkboard, doodling figures engaging in violent, disgusting, and in the case of his most recent addition, obscene interactions. These two are supposed to be supervising the group of first years clustered in the corner, but, naturally, they're not too concerned about responsibilities. At least, not until the door to the classroom creaks open. The two scramble to their feet, trying to look like they were doing whatever it was they were instructed to do. They immediately relax, however, when they see that Tom has brought along V.
"You already know these two." Tom sighs dismissively, striding past Lestrange and Avery. "But these, my dear, are your test subjects." He gestures to the group of first years, now looking up at V expectantly.
"Where's the cake?" One of them, a blonde girl with pigtails, chirps. "He said there'd be cake."
"There's gonna be cake?" V's eyes light up, and she turns to Tom, who gives her a hard look. "Oh." She says under her breath, deflated.
"Um. There will be cake. But that's the...reward. First you need to help me with something." She says, squatting down to the cold flagstone. After rummaging for a moment inside her pocket, she draws out an ornate glass bottle and unstoppers it. She takes a swig and then offers it to the girl with the pigtails. "Your turn." V smiles kindly. The girl takes a sip, not thinking twice about the advice her parents have given her to be wary of just these sorts of situations. When she goes to hand the bottle back to V, instead V gestures for her to give it to the boy standing just behind her—a scruffy Gryffindor with mousy brown hair. He shrugs his shoulders and takes a sip, immediately sticking his tongue afterwards.
"Ewwww what was that?" He grimaces.
"It's a potion that I need to test..." V says, "I invented it."
"What's it do?" The last first year, another Gryffindor, sniffs it skeptically.
"It makes you stronger." Tom interjects, towering over the three kids.
"Cool!" The last boy says, and takes a big gulp. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and gives the bottle back to V, who quickly stoppers it and slips it back inside her robes.
"Excellent." She says, rising from her crouch and straightening up. "Now we just have to wait."
"Wait for what?" The kids ask.
"Cake, of course." V says. The first years acquiesce and return to the game of gobstones they had been playing before Tom and V arrived.
"Well done." Tom whispers in V's ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck perk up.
"Who are they?"
"Dunno. Those two found them." Tom shrugs, jerking his thumb in the direction of Avery and Lestrange.
"What are you whispering about?" Avery questions snidely, sidling up to them.
"Your artwork, Avery. It's quite...captivating..." Tom says. Avery goes red, having forgotten the rude drawings he'd left on the chalkboard.
"Haha yeah..." He backs awkwardly over to the offending images and begins to erase them with his sleeve.
"So this is it then? These are your...?" V searches for the name, coming up blank.
"Knights of Walpurgis." Lestrange says gallantly, throwing his shoulders back.
"So far, yes. Also, Malfoy's thinking of joining, and we're working on getting some others..." Tom trails off, scanning down his mental list of potential recruits.
"Surprised you didn't rope Penelope into this." V says to Lestrange, who's started whistling that awful tune again. "Or is this boys only—no girls allowed?"
"Penelope's not really cut out for this sort of thing..." Lestrange says. "Now that you mention it, she's only good for one thing, really..." He snickers. Avery elbows him in the ribs, dirty boy.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." V checks her watch; its almost time. Just a bit longer until the potion takes full effect. She's already noticing the three first years start to get drowsy, which is one of the side effects.
"Where are we taking them?" V turns to Tom, lowering her voice. "We're not going to test it here are we?"
"No, no of course not. I thought the forest, maybe? There's this cave..."
"A cave? In the Forbidden Forest?" V laughs a little. "Couldn't find any place creepier?"
"The Hogsmeade cemetery was booked." He winks.
"Again with the whispering." It's Lestrange this time. "Flirt with your boyfriend on your own time, this is a serious meeting." V spins around, takes out the bottle, and waves it in front of him.
"Did I just hear you volunteer? Excellent." There's a nice loud pop as she unstoppers it.
"No! No!" Lestrange throws his hands up in front of him. His sudden display of concern makes V chuckle.
"It's not poison, stupid." She takes another sip. "But it does taste like pickling vinegar, with a hint of slug..." She ate a slug once on a dare, so she knows.
They set off down the sloping lawns towards the dark forest. It's nearing midnight, and it's the night of the new moon, so the sky's still and lightless as a pool of ink. There's an odd silence about the evening as well, as if a muffling charm's been placed over the grounds, making their footfalls noiseless as a ghost's. Convenient, to be sure. They've just reached the edge of the forest, and Avery sneaks up beside V, who's bringing up the rear, making sure none of the first-years wander off.
"What are you going to do to them?" He says, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"Haven't decided yet." V shrugs. That's partially true. She's got a vague idea.
"Can't believe he found someone as fucked up—err, I mean similar..." He muses.
"I don't think you meant to say that out loud." V says flatly, looking straight ahead.
"Did I say something?" Avery says, suddenly nervous.
"We're not supposed to be in here." The girl chirps, voice as bouncy as her pigtails, looking up at V with her big blue eyes. Her Ravenclaw scarf is bundled up around her neck, so her speech is a bit muffled.
"You can go wherever you want, and don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise." V says with a wink. They've come to the mouth of a cave, which is partially hidden by brush. Tom clears the entrance and ushers everyone inside. V pauses outside. Tom pulls out of his pocket a small box, which, upon enlarging, reveals a sloppy chocolate cake. He takes it inside, lays out a picnic blanket, and gives each first-year a slice. They gobble it down eagerly, hands and faces sticky with icing, and beg for more. Baked inside the cake is a powerful sedative, and after three pieces each the first years don't even know where they are anymore. This explains why they aren't even fazed by the sudden appearance of a large black snake...
"Looks like the venom isn't affecting them..." V says, kneeling by the Gryffindor boy with the mousey brown hair. He's bleeding from his head, right arm, and right shoulder, from where his body collided with the top of the cave after being thrown several feet in the air by a large black snake. The bleedings the worst from the snake bite on his arm, where the infernal thing sunk it's fangs deep enough into his flesh to certainly cause a fatal wound. But he's healing up good now under V's expert care and experimental potion. Thank god they were all practically unconscious during the attack—it would've been that much worse to hear them scream. She's already healed the other two kids, who are now slumped up against a rock next to Lestrange and Avery, who also partook in the cake. Idiots.
"I'm cold." Lestrange murmurs. "Someone fetch me a blanket."
"You're not sleeping out here." Tom walks over and kicks him. "Get up. Both of you. We've got to get these kids back to the castle."
"Wait, you've got to wipe their memories." V reminds Tom, who then promptly sets to work with the first Gryffindor boy, bending over him like a bird of prey, wand perched delicately between his long fingers, muttering the incantation. Then the second Gryffindor boy... then...
"AAAARGGH!" Lestrange leaks a strangled scream, pointing a quivering arm at something above V's head. "IT'S...IT'S..." She looks up to see a pair of fangs, then a whole set of gleaming sharp teeth, then a pair of yellow eyes...
"WEREWOLF!" Avery shrieks, jumping up. V quickly transforms into the snake, prompting the werewolf to retreat a few paces in shock. She hisses menacingly at the creature, who growls back just as aggressively. She swings her head quickly inTom's direction, ordering him to take the kids and his stupid friends and get the hell out of there.
"Let's go then! Move along." He pushes Lestrange and Avery towards the mouth of the cave, and casts a hover charm on the three first years. V blocks the werewolf's path as they make a run for it.
"You're just gonna leave her there?" Lestrange gasps, once they've put significant distance between themselves and the cave.
"Absolutely not." Tom says matter-of-factly, letting the kids fall with a thud to the forest floor. "Watch them." And with that he walks back into the forest, wand drawn, leaving Lestrange and Avery shivering a clearing with three unconscious children.
"Merlin's beard—what happened to you?" Headmaster Dippet exclaims as V trudges through the door of his office. Her body falls with a leaden thump in the plush chair across from his desk.
"Got in a..." She begins, but then switches abruptly to "I dunno..." She shrugs. "Sleepwalking?"
"Are you familiar with Daphne Fontaine?"
"Who?"
Dippet waves over his shoulder and the young girl emerges from a shadowy corner of the office, escorted by Professor Albus Dumbledore. It's the Ravenclaw girl with the pigtails.
"Daphne, is this the woman who gave you the strange potion?" Dippet asks. The girl nods. V arches an eyebrow. She shouldn't remember any of that...Unless...
"I've never seen that kid in my life." She says dismissively.
"Yes you have! You took me and Ruggles and Weatherford down to...the forest...gave us cake..." She struggles to recall the details—everything after the cake is a blur. "Something awful happened to them, I know that. But I don't remember what..."
"Neither do they." Dumbledore says. "But it's obvious something happened to them, judging by the scars..." The poor girl stands beside Dumbledore, trembling, her skin patched with bandages.
"I don't even know who Ruggles and Weatherford are. Why would I give you cake? This is such a waste of time."
"But your friends were there too, and..." Daphne Fontaine stammers.
"And who?" Dippet asks.
"I don't know his name...but I think he's the Head Boy..."
"Tom?" Dippet laughs. "Now really, Miss Fontaine. This is starting to sound like a tall tale." Dumbledore narrows his eyes—connecting the dots, possibly?
"It's not! It's true! And there was a werewolf, and a giant snake, and they fought...and...and..." Daphne stammers, growing red in the face. There's a rapping on the headmaster's door, and Professor Dumbledore crosses the room briskly to answer it. A petit, scraggly man with ruffled hair and a quill tucked behind his ear barges into the room. As soon as V notices his Auror's uniform, she sinks as far down into her chair as possible.
"I'd like to request a meeting with one of your students." The Auror says, approaching Headmaster Dippet and whipping out a letter of approval stamped by the Ministry of Magic.
"And what's this about?" Headmaster Dippet inquires, scrutinizing the letter.
"I'm investigating the case of Lucinda Spektor's murder, and her sister, Victoria Spektor is a suspect. In order to proceed, I'll need to formally interrogate her."
"Hmm." Dippet says, looking from the letter, down to V, and back to the Auror. "You have excellent timing. She's right here." The Auror looks down at the wasted figure of V Spektor, and holds out his hand in greeting.
"Abernathy Hardscrabble." He says forcefully. V takes his hand and gives it a firm shake.
"Victoria Spektor." She grunts.
"Ministry regulations state I must secure us a private venue for this conversation. Please accompany me." And without waiting for a response, he binds her hands together with a flick of his wand. "I'll have her back before the day is out." As an aside to Dippet.
"Wait a second—where are you taking me?" V chokes out.
"To the Ministry, where else?" Hardscrabble takes her arm, pulls her to her feet, and escorts her out of the office. She casts a fleeting glance back at Dippet, who has already engaged Professor Dumbledore in conversation, and is giving Daphne Fontaine a consoling pat on her small blonde head.
