Heart of Darkness

Heart of Darkness

(Continued, Part Three)

By Eline

"Heart of Darkness" is the sequel to "Sacrifice" but it can be read as a stand-alone.

(PG-13 for character torture and some violence.)

There was some argument as to the methods involved for a start.

"Why bother with all this light stuff? Get on with it!" Avery was saying in the dungeon-like torture chamber. He was in a foul mood after beginning lectured for losing his Portkey out in the woods while he was unconscious.

"Yeah, make him squeal." That was from Crabbe.

The four new recruits who had survived the "training exercise" looked at him expectantly. There were supposed to be learning the finer points of wringing information from captives and they had learned to keep their mouths shut in the presence of the other Death Eaters now. Now it looked a scene from the grisly Muggle Inquisition with all of these masked and hooded figures standing around . . .

"You have no subtlety . . ." Snape shook his head. They wouldn't know subtlety even if it ran up and bit them in the trousers. "And remember--the master wants him *alive* for the Imperious curse."

Lupin was indeed alive--stretched out on the rack without a single mark on him. He was sweating though--the result of a strong itching spell that was also making him twitch continually.

"It can drive a man mad . . . Constant irritation serves to wear them down. Would you like to try this?"

By their uneasy looks, they were none too keen on the idea. Snape wanted to shake them all for being fools. He had truth potions, stuff that could make anyone gabble non-stop for *days*--but everyone seemed to have forgotten about his forte. They would rather play with the master's torture chamber than use what was right under their noses. Well, he certainly wasn't going to help them out there . . .

And he had to keep Lupin alive--for his own sake. After that night, when his self-control had reasserted itself, he had been disquieted by the outcome of his own actions. Under Voldemort's eyes, he had to do what was expected--but none of it had given him that sickening yet curiously sweet rush back in the forest. It was as though he had been submerged back into those dreadful days of violence while in that mask . . .

He had not wanted to look or touch his mask afterwards. It was a facade for the darker side of his soul--the side that was decidedly *not* queasy about torturing former enemies . . .

"It's about time you started practising those curses," he said to his so-called apprentices. Avery and Crabbe had to be reassured of his ruthlessness. "You . . . Creighton--start with the Cruciatus Curse . . ."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

There was pain. And there was *pain*.

Remus Lupin did know about pain. His life had been marked by it. Every single full moon. Losing close friends. Betrayal by said close friends. Generally being considered a monster unfit to live in the societies of men. Being alone.

Oh, he knew about pain all right.

There were scars--testimony to what he was and the violent nature of his other shape. The wolf knew pain too. Every single full moon. Nights spent locked away from the rest of the world. Alone and without any kin or pack. Struggling against its duel nature and slowly going mad by degrees.

The wolf knew about pain all right.

It made the torture easier to bear--because he had known pain worst than anything they could dish out.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

In Voldemort's secret lair, screams never travelled very far beyond the thick walls . . .

The others could pop in and out as and when they chose with Portkeys, but he had chosen to stay. Not exactly *chosen*--he had no where else to go. He was supposed to be on leave and here he was, suddenly feeling adrift and homesick . . . for Hogwarts. And there was the matter of keeping an eye on Lupin . . . It had been going on for three days now and Snape was on the edge.

The werewolf was withstanding all their efforts at putting the Imperius Curse on him--a record endurance that was going to wear him down faster than torture could. Voldemort had let the other Death Eaters at him to "soften him up" a little more.

The others--well, they were more *direct* in their approach. Macnair and Goyle were the ones who preferred the human-punching-bag-routine. Pettigrew--*Wormtail*--seemed to be under some sort of pressure from Voldemort to torment his former friend. And he did it too--Snape had been present when Wormtail had dislocated Lupin's fingers one by one. He had been on hand to set the bones so that they could break them with the thumbscrews.

Lupin was bearing up much *too* well for a man without hope of deliverance. No doubt his friends were out searching for him, but they would never be able to find this place for ages. And by then, it might be too late--too late for him to salvage the situation.

It was all Snape could do not to revel in it--time after time, he got the feeling that he himself was putting off the rescue . . .

He could always slip him some of those nightshade and cyanide capsules . . .

How much do you want Lupin dead?

But he had not yielded to the dreadful temptation. Not yet . . . He had not betrayed the trust Dumbledore had given so freely.

But how was he going to do this when he did not even know where he was? The amount of secrecy involved was

No. That was merely an excuse . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Avery.

"Severus? It's nearly the full moon--thought you might to see it."

And there was Macnair's experiment too . . . Snape got up and swept after the other wizard to where the other Death Eaters and a few apprentices were.

They were gathered outside a cell that was fenced with bars on one side, watching the werewolf with a sort of morbid interest. If Macnair's collaring device actually worked . . . well, they would find *some* application for it along the way.

Lupin was slumped in a corner, staring dully at nothing in particular. He was definitely worst for wear after these few days.

"I haven't seen a werewolf transform before," Avery said.

"It gets dead boring after a while," Wormtail said in a neutral tone.

"All right, let's begin." Macnair gestured with his wand and a section of the ceiling slid open to reveal a barred opening that led to a well-like tunnel that was open to the sky. It was a relatively clear night and no clouds obscured the moon.

Silver white moonlight filtered into the cell from the well. The werewolf gave up all pretence at indifference and shrank back against the wall. But it was no use. He started stiffening and the metamorphosis took over.

The screams were still the same after all these years . . .

The werewolf's true face emerged and started howling--the silver collar was hurting it even more in mid-change now. The shaggy humanoid pawed at the collar that was causing it so much pain and then something particular happened.

The change seemed to falter and then it halted completely.

"It's reversing . . ."

Indeed, the fur was receding and the muzzle withdrew back into some semblance of a human face. The werewolf knew a moment of disorientation before it howled again. It was the howl of the wolf. And then he was flinging himself against the bars like a rabid animal.

The Death Eaters drew back as one. The wolf was looking out of those normally mild eyes. The change had only been prevented on the external level. The wolf's mind was trapped in a human body and it was *not* pleased.

"It worked--he didn't change," Macnair began.

"I don't know about that," Avery said doubtfully. "He still looks like a rabid wolf . . ."

"Perhaps we could put it on him when he's a werewolf? That would keep him in that shape even when the moon wanes and the master would be pleased with a new pet."

"Excellent idea," Snape said with all the sarcasm he could muster and he sneered. "So you're volunteering to go in there, take the collar off and wait for it to change into a wolf before putting it back on?"

Macnair looked less sure of himself. "Er . . . Not now--maybe we could--"

"I, for one, am not having anything to do with it until the moon wanes," Snape said. He had to head Macnair off before he could think of the simple expedient of stunning Lupin first. It would be a lot harder to free a wolf than a human--at least it would be for him. The memory of his near brush with a messy death had been branded into his memory. "Besides, the Imperius curse won't work on a werewolf." That had never been proven--mainly because no one had the nerve to try it. "Shut the skylight--the howling's getting on my nerves."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was night in the forest when Snape activated a Portkey to take him out to the place where they had so spectacularly failed. He now knew that they had been in the region known as Transylvania near the Harghita Mountains. After referring a map, of course (geography being another thing that he had not concerned himself with for thirteen years). He might need to relay his message by owl if he could not find what he was looking for . . .

A quick search around the approximate area where the duels had taken place yielded what he needed for his plan to succeed. Now for the others . . .

Fate was being kind to him that night. The ones he was looking for found him instead.

Barely half an hour later, two figures were striding his way in the murky gloom. Snape could guess who they were. They were searching for their friend, no doubt. Black was always predictable--it was a good thing Voldemort was preoccupied with some other affairs, or else the Dark Lord would have been the one to bait a trap with a werewolf.

They suddenly halted--perhaps they had detected him already if Mad-Eye Moody was there with his wizard-detectors and his magic eye.

The sooner he got this over with, the better . . . He walked out of the cover of the trees and was confronted by two pairs of very suspicious eyes.

"You! What have you done with Remus?" Black demanded, raising his wand.

"Kindly remember that I am on your side," Snape said coldly, keeping extremely still. Black on the loose with a wand--just *wonderful*. "I'm here to warn you--they're ready for you even if you can *find* Voldemort's lair bumbling around like this."

"If you really were on our side you'd have told us where it was by now!" Black hissed.

"I don't know where it is," Snape said with poisonous politeness. "I only got out via a Portkey."

"What good is that then?"

"I have another one." He moved slowly and drew out Avery's Portkey from his robes. "Avery dropped it when they dragged him back. It's an active one--but not keyed for individuals."

"And what do we do with it?" Mad-Eye asked shrewdly.

"It will bring you into his lair--you have very little time to get the werewolf out of there and escape. Be careful--the fangs are poisoned!" he said as he passed it over. The desire for Black to scratch himself accidentally on those fangs was seeping through his veneer of self-control.

"Figures . . ." Black looked at the evil-looking item with disgust as he held it with his fingertips.

"And what about Voldemort then?"

"He is there--which is why you would *never* stand a chance if you found his lair. But he's not always there . . ." He had overheard Wormtail and Voldemort speaking--the master would not be in his lair for the next few days. Giving all this information to Black made his stomach clench but it was necessary at this point . . .

"So when'll Voldemort be out?" He could see how eager Black was to confront James Potter's killer--it was all Snape could do to not let the fool have that opportunity.

"Three days from tonight onwards--I suggest you have enough wizards to back you up."

"This had better not be a trap," Black said threateningly.

Snape did not bother with denying anything. It was not likely that Black would trust him or his word. "I will be missed if I don't get back."

And he activated his Portkey to leave before he was tempted to taunt Black with all the poisonous observations he had accumulated over the years.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Severus Snape was gone before Sirius could question him some more.

"Grim sort of chap, wasn't he?" Gerad remarked as he emerged out from behind them. They had thought it prudent to keep one of them hidden while meeting Snape.

Sirius snorted. "I don't trust him . . ."

"Neither do I, but you know Dumbledore does," Mad-Eye said reflectively as he gazed at where Snape had been.

"I wonder why . . ." Sirius turned over the ugly knife carefully. This was the key to Remus' freedom--a Portkey and the word of a Death Eater. A reformed Death Eater if Dumbledore could be believed.

Gerad coughed. "Ahem--Sirius, could I have a word?"

"Spit it out," Sirius said impatiently.

"All right, Sirius--Remus said I could trust you with this," Gerad began, "being an Animagus and all that . . . Well, I'm one too. Naturally-born."

Naturally-born Animagi? That was something new . . . But Sirius knew better than to be surprised. The Ministry had too much on their hands fourteen years back to care about registering all the Animagi across the globe. Two whole generations of Animagi, natural-born or otherwise, had probably slipped past their not-so-vigilant eyes.

It was a bit of an understatement to say that Sirius' own opinion of the Ministry was rather low--he thought even his godson Harry and his friends would probably do a better job in a shorter time.

"I won't be the one to tell," Sirius replied. The Ministry would not get much of his help in that matter. "If it's an advantage in this situation--we'll take it."

"It's not just me," Gerad said with a nervous glance at Moody.

"That's all right, lad," Mad-Eye said, his normal eye on Gerad while the other one swept the surrounding forest. "Got nothing 'gainst Animagi . . . naturally-born or no."

"My sister Caitlin--she's my twin--and a few others--old friends you might say . . . We might be able to help."

Sirius looked at him, frowning. Remus had said that they could trust Gerad on this sort of thing. Trust was hard after so many betrayals--he hardly trusted Snape though he knew just what the man was going through as a double agent. But he had to trust in his friend's trust if he wanted Remus out of the clutches of those filthy Death Eaters.

And perhaps even trust one of the people he loathed the most if it came to that. It was Remus' life on the line here.

"All right, I'm listening . . ."

"My friends can get here in an hour." Gerad looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, I already told them about this--they're waiting in Fagaras."

"You *what*?" Sirius was livid. "I thought this was supposed to be a secret--"

"I *trust* them, Sirius!" Gerad said--it came out a little forced because Sirius had grabbed him by the collar. "And Remus does too--"

"He's not lying, Black," Moody said dispassionately. "But I'll say one thing, Connelly--one more little ploy like this and I'm throwin' you out on yer ear."

Gerad straightened his jacket when Sirius let him go. "Thank you--I'm more used to working with my own team, I'm afraid. Excuse me for a moment." And he took out a Muggle device from his pocket and walked a little ways away from them to contact his friends. Gerad Connelly behaved more like a Muggle than any other wizard Sirius had ever known--including his godson Harry.

"Who does he think he is?" Sirius muttered. He was still steamed at Gerad's indiscretion.

"That one . . . not the bad sort fer all that he's practically a Muggle--'enthusiastic but misguided', the Ministry always said," Moody told him. "But from what I heard, it's better to have him on yer side--so as you can keep an eye on him. Got more crazy plans than anyone, or so I've heard."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Waiting was the worst part. It was like that fiasco in Romania--only this time, it was going to be even more unpredictable.

The master was out and about in the world, perpetuating his dark reign in whatever insidious way he had not shared with the Death Eaters. Voldemort was not as trusting of his subordinates as he had been before--with good reason, Snape supposed.

It was going to get harder to squirrel out any useful scraps of information . . .

The sound of a distant roar punched through his ruminations like an alarm. Snape had a feeling that that was all of the advanced warning he was going to get from Black and whatever forces he was bringing in. He exited the chamber he had made his own and headed for the cells. It seemed that most of the Death Eaters--the senior ones at least--were not about Voldemort's lair at this hour. It would be easier for him to carry out his distasteful task . . .

The werewolf was sprawled in an untidy heap where they had left him after Macnair's experiment.

Up close, the werewolf was hardly threatening when the moon was waning. Dark shadows underlined his eyes on his all too pale face. His fingers were bloodied from trying to scratch the door down while the wolf had been in control yesterday night. If not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he would have looked like one of the dead.

The werewolf twitched and opened his eyes as Snape bent over him.

There was no fear in those eyes, only a kind of resignation as he probably thought they were going to start on him again. A sullen voice wished that this would be so . . . What right did the werewolf have to be free when *he* could not escape the darkness of his past?

Snape unlocked the enchanted collar and took it off roughly. Lupin reached up and touched the ugly red welt on his neck gingerly. Or rather, he tried to--his fingers were stiff and unyielding from Wormtail's ministrations.

"Your friends have come for you," Snape hissed. "Get up!" But the werewolf was not capable of even this--though he did *try* to get up. And failed spectacularly.

It was then that Snape realised that he would have to touch the werewolf to get him upright. Or he could always use a spell . . . But common sense asserted that that was absurd--the werewolf was hardly in any shape to scratch him. Then he had to overcome his revulsion at being this close to the werewolf . . .

Get on with it . . . he thought firmly and grasped the werewolf's bony shoulder.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Gerad's crazy idea, however far-fetched, had worked.

Gerad's old friends had surprises up their sleeves that an ordinary wizard would never have thought of. Then again, they were not ordinary wizards. Rather, they had seemed more like Muggles at first, like Gerad.

"My upbringing--grew up in London like any other kid before Hogwarts," Gerad had told them earlier on. He was from one of those wizarding families that had chosen to lose themselves in large, densely populated Muggle cities to hide from Voldemort's reign of terror. The result was a Muggle wizard who had turned out a tad . . . unconventional. His friends were no different.

To Sirius and Moody's collective surprise, Gerad had called them by telephone--a Muggle device that worked like a fireplace only that it could fit neatly in the pocket of his Muggle-made jacket. Then his friends arrived--three on broomsticks and a short petite woman and a black man on a Muggle vehicle.

It was a flying motorcycle--a real Muggle motorbike bewitched to fly like a broomstick. Sirius thought enviously of his own Harley. It had been his pride and joy, all those years ago. To see one again made him nostalgic . . .

He would have liked to ask them the make of the motorcycle, but by then he was being introduced to Dimitri Kheryvek, Lee Kailing, Edward Greene, Caitlin Connelly and Terence Lucas. Terence was a Muggle while the other four except Edward were Animagi.

"Gerad, what in the wo--"

"It's all right--Terry knows all there is to know about us," Gerad had said, unperturbed as he casually introduced the tall black man.

"Please you meet you anyway," said Terence good-naturedly--he seemed used to this sort of reception from wizards. "We heard Remus was in trouble, so we came right away."

"You do have a plan, right Sirius?"

The plan, simply put, was to get into the lair via the Portkey and get Remus out again. "I know it needs a bit of work . . ." he had said after the silence that had followed this announcement.

"A bit?" Moody muttered darkly. "I thought you were supposed to be *smart*, Black . . ."

Sirius wanted to say that his energy and brainpower had been more directed towards playing pranks in his youth, but that was just plain stupid. He got a rein on his temper and reminded himself that he wasn't sixteen anymore.

"Just a small suggestion, Sirius?" said Caitlin Connelly--she was obviously Gerad's twin from her curly hair to the freckles on her nose. "Even if they are waiting for us when we pop up, we've got to be unpredictable."

"And we can handle unpredictable," Edward Greene said with a slight smile. He was Caitlin's husband and they were holding hands like this was some peaceful walk in the park.

"That is, if we can get a move on before we freeze our bums off here," said Kailing, snapping a wad of gum impatiently. She radiated a kind of impatient energy--rather like the emanations you got from a spell that was about to go off any second.

"Look," Moody began tersely. "Connelly, you're off your rocker for dragging Muggles in with us--"

"Mr. Moody, now is not the time for your prejudices to show," Gerad said quite seriously. "Muggles aren't any less vulnerable than wizards."

"I chose to come, Mr. Moody," Terence said politely. "I owe Remus a favour--we all do."

"He might be useful in a tight spot," Caitlin said reasonably. "Especially when we're in need of any extra set of hands--he's trained in self-defence."

"Not too badly for a nature photographer cum bleeding heart conservationist either," Kailing chipped in.

"Thank you, Kai," Terence said dryly.

"No problem--your ego was getting a little swelled up just now."

"We can't go anywhere without some bickering, can we?" Dimtri asked. He was a dark-haired man with a thin face and ears that stuck out a little. Sirius wondered what Animagi form he had before wrenching his mind firmly back to the matter at hand.

Their bickering, however, looked like a practised act. Gerad's friends did look and act a team, however odd their methods.

Looking over his small army, Sirius realised that it was the best he could do for now. No point calling in the Ministry--they probably wouldn't even *bother* about saving a known werewolf. They were on their own. And he could admire Terence for his spunk--it was something he himself would do for a friend even if he was Muggle, dangerous magic flying all over the place or not. "All right, we're all going in--what's your surprise?" he asked, ignoring Moody's furious look. Respect and precedence be hanged--Remus' life was on the line here.

"Kai," Gerad said, indicating the woman in the leather jacket. "Nobody ever expects Kai."

"I hope you're sure of this, Gerad," Edward said. He did not seem afraid to question this plan. "Kai hasn't done this very often."

"I take whatever chance I get," Kai said. She looked slightly happier at this prospect.

"Kai's got to change out here," Dimitri said as the woman shrugged off her black jacket and handed it to him. "It gets awkward . . ."

"I never saw her change," Terence said. "Not once in ten years."

"Oh you'll see why . . . I'd back up a little, if I were you."

Sirius knew what changing shape entailed. It was not painful like Remus' metamorphosis, but more like the feeling of being as mouldable as clay for an instant as one went in between two shapes, stretching and tucking here and there to fit into the physical specifications of another form.

But in Kailing's case, she kept stretching. Stretching, twisting . . . coiling into something far larger than he had expected.

Sirius was dimly aware that his jaw was hanging open.

Coil after coil of gleaming black scaled torso rolled past them. This shape . . . was something like a Great Wyrm or a sea serpent. But it had short arms and viciously sharp claws like a dragon's. The head was as long as Sirius was tall, with great fan-like membranes protruding out on each side. Each pearly eye was larger than standing mirrors. But then the film of membrane covering them lifted and they saw that her eyes were golden and glowing like banked embers.

"A dragon?" he asked in wonder. But she had no wings . . .

"A sea dragon to be exact--native only to the Eastern Pacific region," Edward said. The dragon was keeping very still--she would have flattened any one of them easily if she misplaced even one of her massive coils.

"Two hundred metres of magical hide too--impervious to any curse," Dimitri said, patting the scaled section beside him. The dragon made a deep, throaty noise as if to say that Dimitri would do well to be a little less familiar if he wanted to keep his current shape.

"Now you know why Kai doesn't do that unless she's outside, near a large body of water for preference," Gerad said to Terence. The Muggle looked just as surprised as Sirius felt. And Moody--he was showing as much astonishment as his disfigured face could manage. But now there was a real chance that they could storm Voldemort's stronghold and get away with it . . .

The dragon rumbled softly--that is, the ground started shaking gently around them--and curled back her lips. It did have teeth--very sharps ones at that.

"That's her way of saying get on with it!" Caitlin said grimly.

"All right--hang on everyone." The Portkey was brought out and everyone held on--or at least held on to someone else's arm/shoulder/claw because the dagger was a tricky thing to get a grip on to even without the poison on the fangs. Sirius prodded it with his wand to activate it--

One stomach-lurching shift in the fabric of reality and the horrid feeling of falling over an endless drop later, they were no longer in the forest. This place was made of stone walls and the ceiling was as high as that of a cathedral. This was fortunate for Kailing--her head was brushing the vaulted roof as she reared up to sniff the musty air.

Several gaping archways lining the sides lead away from this room to parts unknown. There was a stone throne at one end of the drafty chamber--it was carved with a revolting frieze of snakes curling all over it. No one had to guess the owner of that forbidding seat.

"We're in the old snake's den for certain," Moody said darkly. "But he's not at home, that's why we're all still breathin'. Looks like Snape was being honest . . ."

"Don't speak too soon--this place gives me the willies," Sirius said in a loud whisper. "This must be where Voldemort holds his little court. We'll have to move out and search for Remus . . ."

"Kai, you're going to have to change back," Gerad said to the dragon. But in the next moment, a hooded man walked into the chamber.

There was a silent pause as everyone froze, then wands were raised. A silvery arm emerged from the Death Eater's robes with his own wand. The first spell erupted forth half a second later.

"That's torn it," Moody said grimly as the Death Eater fended off their spells and set off an Alarm Charm that could probably be heard from Australia. "Every Death Eater around here'll be comin' in now." No sooner had he spoken when three more Death Eaters streamed in and proceeded to blast away at them. They had no compunction against using the most dangerous curses, worst luck.

"Sirius, Mr. Moody, Terry--we got to make a run for it," Gerad said as they ducked behind Kailing's scaled flanks. Curses and spells splashed harmlessly off the black dragon's scaled skin, but they did seem to be irritating her a little. "Kai can't attack without bringing this place down around our ears and she *can't* breathe fire!"

The dragon roared and her tail lashed out, forcing the Death Eaters to back off. The reason for her attack became clear a moment later--the tail end of her great length now formed a natural barricade that stretched out to the nearest archway. They ran for it even as Caitlin and the others started their own offensive.

"We've got to make it quick--Cait and the rest haven't got enough power to hold them off for long," Gerad panted as they raced down the dark corridor that lead away from Voldemort's audience chamber. "It's something to do with being natural Animagi--some give and take involved in it, a friend told me . . ."

"All right," Sirius said as they came to a place where the corridor branched in three directions, "I'll take one, you take the middle one and Mad-Eye can take the last."

"I'll go with Sirius," Terry said easily when it came to his turn.

"Well, you've got to keep up." And they were off again, racing pell-mell into unknown danger again.

A few twist and turns later, Sirius' grip on his wand was getting sweaty as they hunted about in the gloom for some place that looked promising. They passed several empty, dank chambers--Sirius was sure they were somewhere underground--and a chamber fill with what looked like some medieval enthusiast's collection of torture devices.

Slightly sickened, Sirius and Terence ran on. They reached another fork, but that was not all they found there.

The masked and hooded Death Eater had emerged from one of the two passageway and saw them just as they saw him. Wands flicked out and Sirius was engaged in another duel--he was certainly doing a lot of that these days.

"Terence--stay back!" he yelled as he deflected another spell. He hoped fervently that this Death Eater would be one of those greenhorns who couldn't do the Unforgivable Curses--they were too close now . . . He also hoped that Terence would have the sense to stay away from the magic that was whizzing through the air like Bludgers in a Quidditch match.

But the other man had slipped up almost beside the Death Eater without detection because of the Death Eater's pre-occupation with fielding Sirius' spells. He held out a small black device and there was a blinding flash of light--

When Sirius' vision had cleared enough for him to see properly, Terence had a hold of the Death Eater's wand arm and was twisting it behind his back until the other man let go with a cry. He then flipped the Death Eater over in a smooth fluid motion. The man landed on the ground with a heavy thump.

Sirius was there in the next instant, cords shooting out to bind and gag the Death Eater into silence. No killing, that was the cardinal rule . . . "That was brilliant," he said at last when they had caught their breath.

"Don't mind me saying, but you wizards are very easy to surprise," Terence said as he scooped something off the ground to show to Sirius. "This is just the flash attachment from one of my cameras."

"I'll remember that--next time you do that, tell me to close my eyes first, all right?" Sirius said with a rueful smile. Gerad was right, of course. Muggles did have a lot of things up their sleeves that wizards did not.

"All right--did you see which way he came from?"

"That way . . ." They looked at each other and shrugged before going down that particular passageway.

Before long, Sirius' sharp hearing picked up the faint sound of footsteps and he paused at a sort of T-shaped junction. Terence halted when he did and made a questioning gesture.

Motioning for Terry to be still, he raised his wand and waited for the figures to round the corner . . .

It was Severus Snape and Remus Lupin.

"Moony, you look like something the cat dragged in," Sirius said, relief washing over him in waves. On second examination of his friend, he knew a mounting rage. Not even the aftermath of each night with a full moon had prepared him for this.

"I noticed that . . ." And Remus staggered, more skeletal and pale than he had ever been. There were marks on him that told the whole horrifying tale of his captivity in this dreadful place. Snape practically shoved him over to Terry and Sirius, as though he could not stand touching him any longer. Sirius felt a hot flash of anger--the slimy bastard had probably inflicted some of those marks . . .

"You have to make it look real," Snape said, interrupting his dark musings by shoving Lupin's wand into his hand. He then drew the black mask of the Death Eaters over his face. "Hit me or stun me."

Sirius would have been the first to admit later that his temper had got the better of him after seeing Remus in that state. When he swung, it was *not* with feigned enthusiasm. Connecting with Snape's face, he was ashamed to realise, was one of the most satisfying things that he had experienced in a very long time.

Snape reeled backwards with the force of the blow. Sirius wondered if he had broken that over-large nose . . .

"Sirius . . . just stun him--we have to get out of here," Remus muttered from where Terry was supporting him. Sirius noted his friend's ashy-grey complexion and stunned the other wizard quickly.

"Come on--we don't have much time," Terry muttered.

Half-dragging and half-carrying Remus, they managed to get to the end of the passageway before meeting Gerad Connelly running in. Sirius halted his spell in time to avoid frying Gerad's eyebrows.

"Gerad?" Remus blinked wearily. "Oh . . . what *is* that racket?"

"Kailing . . . but she can't keep it up for long--she's good for a few minutes more before they realise that she's not so mobile on land . . . Even more Death Eaters are apparating in now and we'd all like to miss the chance of meeting Voldemort here!"

That was a thought that Sirius did not share, but there was Remus to think about now. Revenge could come later . . .

"Lead on!"

The quartet made it back to the grotesque audience chamber after nearly colliding with Mad-Eye along the way--the old Auror looking like the confident hunter again. They could not have been away for more than ten minutes, but it looked like the Death Eaters, because of their swelling numbers, were steadily advancing on the beleaguered group behind the sea dragon.

"Gerad! Hurry!" Edward shouted when he spotted them at the archway. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters had also spotted them. When Kailing tried to reach them with her tail again, she was blocked by Repelling Spells. Being non-offensive magic, it was not neutralised by her magic-proof hide.

"Oh hell," Gerad swore as some Death Eaters started to point their wands their way.

"Bugger this!" Moody roared and let fly with Stunning Spell that swept out in a great red arc, felling the closest Death Eaters like grass before a sharp scythe. "I'll show you magic you filthy scum!" And he was racing out with his wand spitting magic so fast it looked like a firework gone berserk.

The other three men looked at each other over Lupin's drooping one and followed in the wake of Mad-Eye's charge, wands at the ready. With Moody in front, Gerad and Sirius on one side and Terence supporting Lupin on the other side of their wedge formation, they ran over the intervening distance in the precious seconds bought by Mad-Eye's ferocious offensive. Seeing the end of this battle in sight, the three wizards behind the dragon redoubled their efforts to give them cover.

When they were only twenty feet away, the dragon flung herself forwards to envelope them in her coils. "We're leaving--*now*!" Sirus bellowed as everyone packed together as closely as they could. He activated the Portkey and the last spells flashed through the place where they had been.

Moments later, they were in the woods again.

"We made it!"

"Don't start celebrating so soon," Mad-Eye warned. "They've got Portkeys that come here too!"

"To Hogwarts--it's safe there," Sirius said at once. "We'll apparate to Hogsmeade first."

"Right--give us a second. Kai's get to change back first unless you want to restart legends of the Loch Ness Monster around those parts," Gerad said, eyeing the shrinking dragon anxiously. The woman got to her feet unsteadily a moment later.

"I itch *all over*," she complained tiredly as Dimitri slung her jacket over her shoulders.

"Yeah, but you're still up for apparating? Good," Gerad said with a firmness that made it plain that he had been the leader of this motley crew before. "I'll apparate with Terry. Sirius, you can handle Remus?"

"Of course. We better move on . . .to Hogsmeade." And the witches and wizards started popping out of sight.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When he finally came to, Snape saw only blackness. The smell of his own sweat told him that he had his mask on. The next thing he knew was the sound of Voldemort in a vile temper--he knew it by the sound of screams echoing around him mingled with a hissing, high-pitched voice.

Did he dare stir? No . . . wait and see . . .

" . . . I leave for a few days and intruders have managed to penetrate my lair--my *stronghold*--and rescue the werewolf! And my Death Eaters, my *faithful* Death Eaters did not get here until moments before they escaped!" Voldemort was ranting somewhere in the vicinity. There was another scream.

"Master! Mercy!" It was not just one voice that was begging. "Please, lord--they came with a great dragon--" Another scream of agony. Snape felt himself sweat. This was not going to be pleasant.

"Excuses, excuses! Worthless scum! A ragtag handful of wizards desecrates my lair and not one of you gives chase?"

"Master--they were too fast! We did follow them to Romania via Portkey, but they had apparated away afterwards!" That was Pettigrew. "Have mercy--"

Growing more and more jittery, Snape was aware of dried blood encrusting his nose. Black had hit him very hard--his nose felt broken. But he could not lie here plotting to get back at Black for that. Time to face the music . . . however unpleasant it was.

Slowly, he shifted and pulled the mask off his face, blinking in the light of the magical torches that lined Voldemort's audience chamber. Someone had dragged him here--they had been none to gentle about it . . . Snape would remember that.

A pair of red, glowing eyes bore into him from somewhere above his head and he did not have to pretend to scramble to abase himself at Voldemort's feet in fear.

"Master, I have failed," he said quickly, wincing as speech stretched the skin on his face and his broken nose as well. "Punish me as you see fit--"

Not that Voldemort needed any motivation to do so. He was ready for the pain though and choked back the scream that was welling up in his throat.

"You were here, Severus?" Voldemort asked as the tremors faded away. "You were present here at that time, were you not?"

"Master . . . I was here. I knew Black would attempt to rescue his friend, so I made for the werewolf's cell as quickly as I could--but they overpowered me . . ." Snape licked his lips nervously. "There were three of them," he added, eyes on the floor. Let this be over quickly . . .

No pain came though.

"Hmmm . . . It appears that you were the only senior Death Eater attempting to use your brain in this crisis," Voldemort said. "Get up, Severus . . ."

Snape did so, keeping his eyes on the floor. Voldemort was as capricious as the weather when it came to dishing out punishments or rewards.

Voldemort studied him a moment more. "Sirius Black . . . You recognised him?"

"Yes, master," Snape said daring to raise his head.

"Ah--Black did that?"

"Yes, lord."

"He is still too soft-hearted to kill . . ." Voldemort waved his wand negligently and Snape knew a moment's agony as his nose realigned itself with a painful wrench. "They did not see your face?"

"No, master . . ." Snape lied and reached for his nose gingerly. It was no longer broken. "Thank you master . . ."

"I will expect more from you in the future . . . Now return and tell Dumbledore that he might have won this battle, but not the war," Voldemort snapped.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was an extremely wearily group of people who entered the safe haven of Hogwarts that morning. They had barely reached the back gate when it flew open to reveal a very relieved looking Professor McGonagall.

"You made it back--the headmaster will be wanting to see you . . ." She trailed off as she took in the strangers in their midst.

"It's all right, ma'am--we'd best be getting along," Gerad said.

"Oh no, you're coming with us," Sirius insisted. "Besides, I think Dumbledore would like to see you very much."

"Lupin's going to need some medical aid," Terry said.

"Lupin? Moony--we're at Hogwarts," Sirius said to his semi-conscious friend. "It's going to be all right . . . we'll get you fixed up in no time."

"Thanks . . ." Lupin muttered and sagged. There were tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes as he surrendered to unconsciousness at last. Tears of relief for surviving this ordeal.

Depositing Lupin in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey, they trudged up to Dumbledore's office. He was waiting for them.

"Ah, you have bearded the lion--or should I say snake--in his own den," the old wizard said. He looked like his normal cheerful self, but he looked slightly worn out. Sirius wondered if the headmaster had been up trying to curb Voldemort's activities elsewhere. It made him face the ugly truth of their current situation. One battle they had won, he realised tiredly, but there would be other battles on other days and other places too.

"And Gerad, you've brought your friends too," Dumbledore continued. "You've got to be careful, Gerad--remember the last time . . ."

"I will, sir. Will you require a report?"

"No, save it for later. You all look like you need some rest. You *should* go rest--unless there's anything pressing you need to tell me. Did anyone suffer any adverse curses?"

"None . . . Unless one of us didn't come back from Voldemort's lair . . ." Moody was suddenly on the alert, his magic eye swinging about vigorously. He had reason to be paranoid . . .

"I do not doubt any of your identities," Dumbledore said calmly and pointed to the mirror that hung over his fireplace. "If you were someone else in disguise, no matter how clever, that bewitched mirror would have revealed you to me long ago. I *did* take precautions after that business with Crouch."

"We would have to get up earlier if we want to put one over you, sir," Gerad said respectfully.

"I would think we shouldn't even sleep," Caitlin said with a grin.

"Speaking of sleep, I see a number of people in serious need of it. Off you go--and don't you dare wake up before lunch time," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.

Sirius hardly remembered falling asleep. But when he woke up, he felt strangely safe in knowing that he was in Hogwarts, surrounded by friends and watched over by the only wizard Voldemort feared. He would have been content to lie like that all day, but he had things to see to. Stretching, he got up and threw on his clothes before going to look up Remus.

"Remus! You're up already?" he exclaimed when he walked in to find his old friend sitting up in the infirmary.

"Hullo Sirius," Lupin said wanly. His hands were bandaged and it looked like he had been made to swallow a lot of potions from the look of the bottles on the bedside tray. "I can't move an inch or else Madam Pomfrey said she was going to finish the job they only got halfway done," he said with a rueful smile.

"They won't get away with that, Moony," Sirius said grimly. "Someday, they'll get theirs . . ."

"Promise me you won't go out hunting them alone," Lupin said seriously.

"All right . . . I promise I'll take someone else along for the ride and tell someone in authority first," Sirius said, still incorrigible as ever. "Are you feeling quite all right? Because if you are, I'm dead curious about how you ever got to know Gerad's bunch."

"Now that *is* a long story," Lupin said. "Have you ever heard of W.E.R.E.S.? There was some fuss over it a few years back . . ."

"Moony, I haven't been exactly well informed for the last thirteen years, you know," Sirius said patiently. There was a whole chunk of his friend's life that he had not been privy to.

"Sorry . . . Gerad started W.E.R.E.S. after the Department for Werewolves/other Sub-human Species shut down. It was all right for a while, but it got closed down by the Ministry for being 'too radical'."

"You were one of them?" Sirius asked.

"Not exactly . . . I was something of a fringe-member if you must know."

"What did they do? Oh wait--I'll guess . . . Something to do with werewolves?"

Lupin nodded. "You know what the Ministry said about them?"

"Er, was that the 'enthusiastic but misguided' bit?"

"Right--Gerad was for the rights of were-creatures--"

"Why?" Sirius wanted to know.

"That's for Gerad to tell, not me," Lupin said firmly. "I can't tell you everything about them, old friend . . . And there are some things that cannot go beyond this room . . ."

"We were always good at keeping secrets, Mr. Moony."

"Mr. Padfoot speaks the truth," Lupin said with a slightly smile. "By now, you should know why Gerad and company have to be watched. You were lucky, if they were on your side . . ."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

This is for Quaxo and anyone who gave feedback for "Sacrifice". (Seriously, I never got *this* much feedback for any fic before, so I'm pathetically grateful any anything, even flames.)

The author decides that fanfics are much more fun than studying nematodes and sorting through tanks of Blattella germanica (L.) by hand: I had to end it there. The next part after this will be "The Reckoning" which should tie up a few things and answer a few questions--as soon as I type it out, that is . . . Even more POVs from other characters as this fic goes on and more of W.E.R.E.S. (The gang from W.E.R.E.S. were from a Lupin-fic I've got cooking on the backburner.) Erm, please write a review/give me some constructive criticism?

Disclaimer: HP characters are © J. K. Rowling and respective publishers except for those created to move the plot along.

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