Trojan Horse - Part II: Cat's Eye
~
A tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes wound in between the tall man's legs, and he stroked her head absent-mindedly. The cat purred, and as the man sat down on a hard-backed carven chair, she leapt daringly into his lap. He continued to stroke her, talking to the tense man standing before him.
'No, no, that is not acceptable,' he was saying, in a tone that seemed as gentle as his hand stroking the cat, but for the undercurrent of steel. 'I will not have any such breaches of security. You have failed me.'
'Please, my lord, I will not fail again, I'll do anything,' gasped the other man, falling to his knees.
The sitting man raised his hand languidly, and the fur on the cat's back stood on end. He murmured something, and a jet of green flame shot across the room to the pleading man. He crumpled up. The cat hissed and her claws dug into the man's knee almost of their own accord. His refined features did not change, but he swatted the cat from his lap. She yelped, landing on her feet.
'Bad-tempered beast. Where did you come from, anyway?' He rang a bell that stood on the long stone table. Almost before it had stopped ringing, a small, plump man was in the room. He bowed.
'My lord?'
'Take this away.' He waved an absent hand at the body on the floor. 'And send O'Neil in.'
'Yes, my lord, at once.' The plump servant bustled about, dragging the body away with a curl of his lip and straightening the carpet where he had fallen.
The room was sumptuously furnished and if it hadn't been for windowless walls, it could have been in any stately home in the country. The cat sat under the table and curled her tail around herself, watching the men with a supercilious expression. This had been easier than she had anticipated, even down to finding her quarry. Given a bit of luck, she could return to Hogwarts soon.
In a few moments, a balding man who walked with a stick came in. 'Yes, my lord?'
'O'Neil. I would like you to replace Carter.'
O'Neil did not allow his face to show any fear that he might share the same fate. 'Certainly, my lord.'
'Carter was foolish. I hope you will serve me more faithfully.'
'Of course. You have but to command.'
The man's grim face moved into the semblance of a smile. 'Well said. Sit down, and I will explain.'
A little awkwardly, O'Neil pulled out a chair and sat at the man's right hand. Under the table, the cat was very still. It looked as if she had gone to sleep, but one green eye flickered open and shut regularly.
'Now, this is what I will have you do. You know, of course, that the most troublesome part of the defences against our attacks centre around Hogwarts. Dumbledore –' he gave the same intonation to the name that most people set on 'Voldemort' '- Dumbledore has structured some very strong defences. In order to take over the country, we will have to smash Hogwarts. As luck would have it, de Laurent has told me that we may have a trump card in our hand.' The cat under the table flicked her tail, but he changed the subject. 'The snow will soon subdue the rest of the country, so that we will be in a strong position when Hogwarts falls. The watchers report that London is in chaos, and likewise all the major towns. The first thing I would like you to do is take over the maintenance of that spell that's sending the winds. I need a powerful cold snap for maximum impact. The Muggles will be begging at our feet by the end of it. These are the details…'
Half an hour later, O'Neil stood up from the table. 'I will try my best, my lord.'
The man frowned, and the steel re-entered his voice. 'You will succeed.'
'Yes, my lord, thank you.' O'Neil bowed and left the room. The cat rose and began to stalk stiff-legged after him. The man's eyes narrowed. He snapped his fingers, and the door swung shut, missing the cat's whiskers by inches. She swivelled her head around to look at him.
'I think you'd better stay here with me, cat,' he said. The cat looked back at the door.
'No, you'll stay in here.' He reached out and picked up a thin piece of wood, and pointed it at the cat. She was whisked into the air and deposited on the stone table before him. There, he prodded her carefully with cold fingers. He looked at the markings on the cat's face, and nodded to himself. The cat flinched as he met her green gaze with cold eyes.
Again, he rang the bell. As the plump man came in, he said, 'I have a job for you. Take this cat and give her to Mr Thomas to practise on.' A smile played across his hawk-like face, but quickly faded. 'She overheard my discussion with O'Neil.'
'As you wish, my lord.' The servant showed no surprise. He picked up the cat, which hissed and scratched at him. The servant squealed like a rat, and the man raised his wand again.
'Be still,' he commanded. The cat struggled a moment longer, and then lay motionless in the plump man's grasp.
'Tell him to be slow with her. I expect something interesting will happen at some point. When it does, come and tell me.' A reflective look crossed his face. 'I suppose I could force her, but this would be more … amusing. But tell Mr Thomas that whatever he does, he must not kill her.'
'Of course, my lord,' said the servant, trying not to let his face show the pain from the cat's needle-like claws. He gave her a sharp pinch in revenge, and she yelped.
'Off you go, then.' He smiled again. It was not a pleasant expression.
When he was out of the room, the cat began to struggle again, more wildly. The servant struck her violently, and she gave an ear-splitting yowl. O'Neil, who was limping along the corridor, glared at him but said nothing. His master's most trusted servant was not someone to offend lightly.
Finally, the cat broke free and sprang away. The servant swore loudly, and dove after her. He caught hold of her tail, and for a second there was a strange struggle between them. Then, spurred on by the thought of what his master would do if he failed, he grabbed the cat around the middle and brought the heel of his hand down upon her head. She was stunned for long enough for him to rush through the corridor and down a steep staircase to a heavy barred door. He hesitated outside for a moment. Normally, he avoided going down to Mr Thomas' dungeon, as did everyone in the citadel deep under Stonehenge.
Now that the cat was quiescent, he took the opportunity to look a little more closely at her. Why on earth did his master want her tortured? Perhaps he was growing more paranoid. There was something familiar about the markings on her face, though. He thought, and dredged up an old memory in his mind. Then he laughed, and opened the door.
Mr Thomas was a short, thin man. He looked at the servant and at the cat he bore with uninterested fish-eyes. 'What's that you've got there, Peter?'
'His lordship says you can practise on the cat, but you're not to kill it – her.' He smiled slightly.
'A cat? What on earth is he thinking of?'
'Oh, this isn't an ordinary cat,' replied Peter smugly. 'You'll see, as soon as you start. His lordship says that you should let him know as soon as something happens. If she's got any sense, it'll be quick.' He laughed. 'But she probably hasn't.'
Mr Thomas still looked puzzled. 'Well, if his lordship wants…. I haven't tried much on animals. This might be interesting.' A thoughtful smile crossed his face.
In Peter's arms, the cat began to revive. He had relaxed his guard, and she managed to leap from his loosened grip. Mr Thomas and Peter both sprang after her, but she was too quick. However, there was no exit from the room save the closed door. She jumped from one piece of furniture to another, her eyes desperate as she sprang over pointed and serrated torture implements. Finally they cornered her.
'Hmm … I see what you mean. Certainly no ordinary beast,' said Mr Thomas consideringly as he seized the cat in a vice-like grip. She bit him with shining white teeth, and he swore. 'You'll pay for that, whoever you are!'
Holding her down, his hand beginning to bleed where she had bitten him, he adjusted the straps on a small table. A look of reflective concentration came onto his face as he bound her down with great care. Peter plugged his ears as the screeches grew more piercing.
~
The howls and resonating cries of the tormented cat echoed through the room, and through the walls of the underground fortress. Still sitting at his table, the tall man smiled to himself.
'Not long now, I shouldn't think,' he said aloud. He picked up the slender wand on the table and fiddled with it pensively. The cat's shrieks were starting to irritate him. Suddenly they came to a stop.
'Ah. She must have come back.' A few moments later, Peter came in red-faced.
'Please, my lord, the cat has – ' he began.
'Good,' interrupted the man. 'I shall descend and speak with her.' He stood up, and Peter backed away a fraction. The man smiled.
He walked with measured strides through the halls. People leapt to attention as he passed, their faces full of loyal diligence, and he nodded to them distantly. He flung open the door to the dungeon where Mr Thomas kept his torture tools. Pinned to a table, her face ashen and her hair tangled and damp with sweat, lay Minerva McGonagall.
'Good afternoon, Professor,' he said politely. She turned her head weakly to look at him. He smoothed his black hair and smiled at her with bared teeth. 'So nice to see you again.' Minerva flinched from his gaze.
'I wonder what brought you to our little outpost. Clever of you to find it. Perhaps you've already told Mr Thomas why you're here?'
Mr Thomas shook his head. 'She's a real spitfire, this one. She transformed back after a bit, but she wouldn't say a word. I reckon I'd have to half kill her to get anything useful out.'
Minerva took a shuddering breath, controlling the pain that was lancing through her. She did not speak, but as the tall man came closer, she summoned the strength to spit into his face. For a moment, a look of rage filled him, and she quailed a little. Then he wiped his cheek with the handkerchief that Peter hastily offered, and looked down at her.
'I daresay you will regret that in time, Professor.' His voice was slow and deliberate, and he nodded to Mr Thomas. He turned a knob on the side of the table, and Minerva screamed. A shudder ran through her, and she went limp for a moment. 'That'll do, Mr Thomas,' said the man sharply. 'I want to be able to talk to her.'
He stroked Minerva's cheek with the back of his hand softly, and she turned her head away with a shiver of revulsion.
'You can't win, you know, my dear. Not here. It will be much less uncomfortable for you if you simply accept that instead of struggling vainly.'
Minerva thought it better not to talk to him. If she began to speak, and the man started again, she did not trust herself to hold her tongue against the pain. She knew she had little hope of escaping, but did not despair yet.
'There is no need to ask why you are here. It is very clear. Dumbledore will have sent you to spy upon me. I hear he's decided my friend Peter is a criminal as well.' Peter Pettigrew smiled darkly, pleased. 'What interests me is what further discoveries he has made, and how he has found out these things. Gently, Mr Thomas.'
~
The door to Professor Dumbledore's office swung open, and Severus Snape came in.
'Why isn't McGonagall back yet?' he demanded at once. 'I can't keep covering her lessons indefinitely. She should have been back three hours ago, and there's a lot of important work I have to get done.'
Dumbledore reached into his pocket and withdrew a silver watch on a chain. He examined it for a moment. 'I hadn't noticed the time,' he said gently. 'I appreciate the way you're taking on the extra work.'
'Well, where is she?' Snape glared at him as though he were personally responsible.
'I don't know. She must still be there.' He frowned. 'That's not good. I'll just check up on that.' He sifted through the pile of papers until he found a map, which he proceeded to enchant carefully. Snape watched impatiently as Dumbledore peered at the curving lines of the chart.
'She's still in the Stonehenge citadel,' he said at last.
'Well, when she gets back, tell her I've got all the prep she set in my office for her to mark. She'd better get a move on.' Despite his angry words, Snape's face was slightly more concerned. 'It's not going to be light for much longer.' He turned in a swirl of black cloak and went away.
Once Snape had left, Dumbledore looked back at the map. Even though it was only a simulacrum, he could sense the presence of the Dark Lord and his servants, and in amongst them Minerva. Something was badly wrong. She had left early in the morning, this was far too long.
He spoke to the gargoyle on the door. 'Tell Sirius, Remus and – yes, and Helen to come here straight away.'
~
Mr Thomas looked ruefully at the still form of Minerva McGonagall.
'She's not going to tell us anything like that, is she now?' demanded the tall man angrily. 'I thought I'd made it clear that I wanted to talk with her. You'd better leave it there for today. Take her to the Red Chamber and leave her there. Give her water, but no food. We'll try again later, and I'll expect better from you then.' He swept from the torture chamber, Peter Pettigrew bowing before him.
Mr Thomas had worn an obsequious expression throughout the two hours whilst his master stood over him stabbing the woman with questions; now he scowled darkly. He spat on the floor and prodded the semi-conscious woman.
'Wake up!' he snapped. Knowing from experience exactly how long it would take for her to come back to consciousness, he began to wash his tools. When he looked back at her, she was groaning and looking up with unfocussed eyes. He unbound her limbs and Minerva felt a rush of tingling pain as the blood returned to them. She made an effort to pull herself together. If she had any hope of getting away from here, she must not yield.
'Get up!' Mr Thomas tugged on her robes and hauled her to her feet. Minerva could not suppress a cry, and she fell to the floor again. Mr Thomas swore, and kicked out at her.
'Soft,' he said scornfully. 'Stand up, you piece of scum.' He dragged her upright again, and she forced her legs to support her. Although her body would scarcely move, her mind was racing as they processed through the corridors. She was memorising every turn, every step of the underground fortress, storing away the details in the hope that they would be of some help to her.
Mr Thomas pulled open a door. Minerva was startled. Instead of the dungeon she had expected, they were in an elegant suite. As Mr Thomas pushed her away, she fell onto the soft carpet. He sneered, and conjured a jug of water and a glass. She heard the door lock behind him.
~
'No, I'll go. She saved my life once.'
'When was that?' asked Sirius at once. 'I don't remember anything…'
A shadow of remembered pain crossed Remus' face. 'It was two years ago, while you were in – in Azkaban. Just before you escaped.'
Dumbledore broke in. He had explained the situation in a few words, and they had both volunteered to go at once.
'You can sort that out between you. I only want one person to go into the citadel, so perhaps you'd better toss a coin.' He fumbled in his pockets for a Knut, and finding one he tossed it.
'Heads,' said Sirius at once.
They both watched the coin as it spun around and around in the air. Finally landing, it came up tails.
'Well, Remus, I think you've won,' said Dumbledore with a smile.
Sirius nodded with resignation. 'But if you think I'm not going to help Remus, you'd better think again,' he added.
With a smile, Dumbledore said, 'That's up to Remus. But you aren't to go into Stonehenge.'
'Fine.'
The fourth person present spoke now. 'Is there anything I can do?'
'Well, not specifically,' said Dumbledore. 'You're just going to learn the ropes from these two, and they'll explain all about the League as they go.' This was Helen Irwin's first placement with the League, and she was looking understandably worried. 'I think that's it. Remus, don't take any unnecessary risks. I have every faith in you.'
Remus looked disbelievingly at the headmaster, but nodded. 'I'll get started straight away.'
'Never fear, we'll get Minerva back,' added Sirius with dancing eyes. 'We're an unbeatable team.' He clapped Remus on the shoulder.
'Don't forget Helen,' Remus said, glancing at her. Sirius nodded without speaking.
'Well, come to me if you have any difficulties. But time is the most important thing at the moment.' For an unguarded moment, Remus saw that he was far more concerned than he let on.
They left the office together.
'So, how are we going to do this?' asked Helen practically.
'The old way,' said Remus. 'One person goes in – that's me, and I go and find Minerva. You and Sirius wait at different points as back-up.'
'But they'll see you … you can't think you'll just sneak in like that,' she protested.
Sirius and Remus exchanged glances. 'Harry still has it, doesn't he?' asked Remus quickly, incomprehensibly to Helen.
'Oh, yes, don't you remember?'
Remus did remember then. 'Sirius and I have that sorted out,' he answered Helen. 'Actually, Sirius, if you go now and get it, then we can get off straight away. It's getting dark.'
'Right, then.' Sirius went off towards the Gryffindor dormitories, leaving Helen and Remus walking together to the entrance hall.
'I still don't understand how you could imagine you'll get in just like that,' said Helen.
Remus smiled. 'You'll see in a few minutes. Now, you'd better go put some outdoor clothes on, and high boots, because it's not at all nice out there. I'll meet you down by the door in ten minutes.'
~
On the snow-covered plain, three darker shapes could have been seen by anyone flying overhead. Not far away was the massive, elemental circle of stone arches. The sky was just turning dark, though there had been very little light all day, and it was snowing lightly.
'Well, here we are.' Remus gave his broomstick to Sirius. It hadn't been easy, flying through the snow, but Dumbledore had warned them against Apparating in the area, because it would be easy for the wizards in the underground fortress to sense their approach. Minerva had flown over, and transformed when she landed. Now Remus reached a gloved hand into the bag he carried and pulled out a shimmering piece of fabric. Helen's eyes widened.
'My God! That – that's an Invisibility Cloak! No wonder you weren't worried.'
Remus nodded. 'It belongs to Harry Potter, but he's lending it to me for this.'
'Well,' said Helen with respect. 'This should be much easier.' She looked nervously at the stone circle. 'How will you find her?'
'I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. First of all I have to get in. Where did you say you saw Pettigrew going in when you were here in the summer?' he asked, turning to Sirius.
'You see there – in the middle?' Sirius pointed with the broomstick, nearly striking Helen. 'One of the stones has fallen. I think Pettigrew moved it somehow, and went underneath.'
'Yes, I see. Oh, that central one? The Muggles call it the Altar Stone.' He smiled. 'Well, I'll try my best. You two, watch from different places. Helen, over there among those trees, I think would be a good place. And Sirius, I think you'd better wait in the circle itself, around the edge. There's enough shelter in those two places.' He nodded. 'Is that all right?'
Helen was looking at the clump of trees with a strange expression.
'That's fine by me,' said Sirius.
'Helen?'
'Oh – yes, yes.' She took her broomstick. 'And I can talk to you both through this?' She plucked at the small white pebble that hung on a chain around her neck. Similar ones were tucked under both Sirius' and Remus' cloaks.
'Yes, that's right.' It was an Auditus, an enchanted stone that would allow them to keep in contact with each other, and with Dumbledore if necessary.
'But I'd prefer it if you didn't speak to me unless it's an emergency. It would be very strange if I suddenly began to make noise when I'm supposed to be invisible.'
'Of course.'
'Well, let's go.' Sirius swung himself across one of the broomsticks, and Remus mounted the second. They flew towards the circle together. Helen flew straight and low towards the clump of trees.
Right by the fallen central stone, Remus landed. He passed the broomstick to Sirius. 'No sense in you hanging around here. Go find yourself somewhere sheltered,' he said.
'Okay. Good luck, Moony.'
'I'll be all right,' he answered more confidently than he felt. Sirius pushed off into the air and flew to the edge of the circle. Remus looked consideringly at the stone. He took out his wand and tried a simple opening spell. He was not surprised when nothing happened. He tried some other things, without any further success. His teeth were beginning to chatter, for there was no shelter in the centre of the circle. All around him the stones rose to the height of small houses, and he felt as if he was being watched. Not without irritation, he pushed at the rock with his gloved hands.
As if on wheels it glided aside. Remus' eyes widened. All that time he'd been fooling around with opening spells, and all it took was a push. He looked at the ladder down into the darkness. Well, now or never. Brushing as much snow away as he could, he pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head and began to climb down. As he went in, the stone swung back of its own accord, and fell silently into place. He shivered.
At the bottom he found himself in a dimly lit tunnel. He looked around. There were three gloomy passages around him, leading in different directions. Well, he thought, as I've no idea where to go, one is as good as the other. He went down the passage on his right.
Someone was coming. Remus flattened himself against the wall and held his breath. A man leaning on a stick came by. He walked straight past Remus in the Cloak and vanished down a side passage. This was a maze, Remus thought worriedly. How would he get out?
'She hasn't said anything?'
As he passed a half-open door, he heard voices speaking.
'No, more's the pity. His lordship doesn't seem worried, though. He says he has an alternative plan.' Remus could not mistake that voice. Only with difficulty did he restrain himself from bursting in.
'Just as well. She's a tough one. You'd have thought any normal person would crack after a session with Thomas and his lordship, but she hasn't told him anything useful.'
Remus' heart was pounding. This was wonderful news. Minerva was alive and still holding strong. The next words made his spirits leap even higher.
'Where is she?'
'In the Red Chamber,' replied Pettigrew.
'Oh, getting the posh treatment, eh? Though I don't envy her.' Remus wondered who the other person was. 'Shut the door, would you? There's a draught.' Remus got himself out of the way just before the door slammed closed. Now he had to find the Red Chamber.
Ten minutes and about six different passages later, he realised he was lost. How he would find the Red Chamber, whatever that was, was beyond him. He looked around. There was a crowd of people approaching. He looked about wildly, and put his ear to a door. It sounded as if the room was empty. Well, he had to get out of the way. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door a slit and slipped in, shutting it behind him.
He was in an office, deserted at the moment. After glancing around, he went over to a desk covered with papers. With invisible hands, he rummaged through them until he came to one which said 'Location of Snow Spell.' It was a map, labelled in Cyrillic characters. He tucked it into his robes, wondering as he did so whether Dumbledore knew any Russian. Somebody was bound to, surely.
The door began to creak open again. Remus froze. The man he had seen before, who walked with a stick, came in and closed the door behind him. He went to a desk and sat down. As Remus watched, the man took out a huge sheaf of papers and began to work. Remus still stood by the desk, not daring to move. He couldn't get out, for the man would be bound to notice the door opening. So he would have to wait.
~
In the clump of trees, Helen waited a few minutes. She could just see the stone circle in the fading light, and she watched Sirius go off towards one of the arches on the far side. She waited until Remus vanished, and the central stone moved back into place. Just another few minutes, she told herself, wishing to postpone it. Just a bit more time.
Finally, looking at her watch, she knew she could wait no longer. With a heavy heart, she went through the trees until she came to a thick holly bush. She pushed through it, wincing and trying to dodge the prickles. In the very centre was a hole, covered by a lid that looked as if it were part of the ground. Helen knew exactly where to push to open it. She climbed down a ladder not unlike the one Remus had entered by. At the bottom she turned left and walked confidently along the passage.
~
Sirius stamped his feet and pulled the cloak around his shoulders a bit more tightly. Even with the special enchantment Dumbledore had put on it to keep the heat in, he wasn't exactly warm. It had been dark for hours, and among these lonely and strange stones, Sirius was uneasy. He would never have admitted it to anyone; if there had been anyone there he would have felt fine in any case, but he was alone. Remus had been gone a long time. He wished he could speak to Helen. Anything would be better than this loneliness.
He was jerked alert by the sight of a dark shape moving around the central stone. It was too dark to make out any more than a silhouette, but he could see something that could only be a broomstick, and the shape lifted into the snowy sky. Sirius wondered where he was going. For a moment he contemplated getting onto his own broomstick and following him, but the thought of Remus made him stay.
It really was an awfully long time since he'd gone in. Sirius reached under his robe and pulled out the Auditus stone he wore.
'Remus?' he said in a whisper. 'Remus? Are you all right?'
Silence. He looked down at the stone. It should have been glowing faintly, but it was not. Sirius muttered an oath and tapped it with his wand.
'Remus?' he said again in a louder voice. 'Can you hear me?'
After several more tries, with no more success, Sirius put the stone away again. Either there was something around here that prevented them from working, some spell Voldemort had worked, or something had happened to Remus.
I should never have let him go in there on his own, whatever Dumbledore said, he thought angrily. He looked consideringly at the stone that would let him into Voldemort's citadel. No, I'd better speak to Helen first, he thought. He mounted the broomstick and flew low and swift to the clump of trees about half a mile away.
There he stood on the edge, and shouldering his broomstick, he went in under the branches.
'Helen?'
Again he was left unanswered. Sirius' sense that there was something wrong increased. He began to wander around the grove, looking for her. If she had gone to sleep, in this cold…
But the grove was deserted. He found her broomstick tucked under the lower boughs of a tree. This was absurd. How could she have vanished? It was too dark under the trees for him to look for her footprints in the snow. He had another try with the Auditus stone, but it still didn't work. Finally, desperately, he called for Dumbledore through the stone. Again there was no answer. It must be something Voldemort had done, he thought with a mixture of irritation and relief. At least that meant there was no reason to suppose that anything was wrong with Remus.
But what on earth was keeping him? He waited in the grove for a while in case Helen should appear, and then flew back to his post. This was the last of these silly splitting-up operations he was doing, he resolved. Next time – and he hoped there wouldn't be a next time – he wouldn't let his friend go into danger alone. And as for Helen, he had no idea. A shiver ran down his spine.
TO BE CONTINUED
Nothing to say, just please review.
Blaise
13th March 2000