Wishes
By: Airelle Vilka
Long and Important Author's Note: I beg forgiveness from you all. As you know, fanfiction.net has not been working for a while, so I could not upload… Also, I have so much homework, plus college applications to do. I did not wish to disappoint you, so I wrote this chapter. Now, this was originally much longer. Instead, in order to not make you wait any more, I decided to split it into two parts, and rewrite the first one--- which is what you see here. So, this is Chapter 27. Please bear with me. In other news, as soon as vacation comes, I shall be renovating my Sleepy Hollow website (see my bio) in order to add a Harry Potter section showcasing the Airelle Vilka Chronicles. :) So be patient, don't murder me, and I promise I'll have the stuff working soon enough. (I despise college deadlines.) I need some Coca-Cola to cheer myself up… But then again, I'm happy, I finally got to finish this! (Thanks to everyone for encouraging me --- threatening to keel haul me is more like it --- to write this chapter. I really do love you guys. ^-^)
By the way, feel free to e-mail me (Alyza_@excite.com) any time you desire, day or night. I'll reply… eventually. LOL… My screws are loose… No, literally, my chair (I have one of those rotating ones) has taken such a beating from my derriere over the years that its screws at the bottom always fly off somewhere. And then I step on them and howl in pain. :)
Chapter 27 ~ Desperate Measures
"Pulling myself up by a rope I better my view
The only thing in sight is what I must do
As I turned, I could see myself falling
Which in return gave me strength for the climb…"
~No Doubt, "The Climb"
Even with the glow of the crescent moon, it was still so dark. So dark. The initial adrenaline that had coursed through Airelle's bloodstream was gone with Noah's death; now, all that remained was tiredness and pain. It hurt – hurt to breathe, hurt to walk, hurt to think… of the coldly still body, and of her best friend. Terrible images drifted relentlessly through her mind, as if on a macabre parade; a never-ending line – tombstones, so many tombstones, hoary with moss and cracked with age, bearing no epitaphs. No words engraved rudely into the stone tablets… but all knew full well who was resting underneath – Granger, Thomas, Longbottom, Weasley, Potter. And Malfoy, one Malfoy who'd realized too late what he had done. Muggle-born and pureblood, all who had opposed Voldemort, together. Some had no graves at all.
And on the edge of the long field, almost all overgrown with tall grass and ivy creepers, stood a small headstone. The only grave that had not been washed with tears of the survivors at one time or another. There was no Niobe to stand eternally, pouring streams from her orbs, over this grave. No; this one was special, for it was washed with blood.
Above it stood a hooded figure, young, but bent and ancient-looking, like a formerly majestic tree that had finally succumbed to a tempest. Desperately, it clawed at its left arm, its own life-giving force streaming down in crimson rivulets and seeping into the black ground, feeding the grass that had sprung there.
"How could you dare, Snape? Why'd you have to die for me? Look at me---I did this for you, do you hear me? I did it for you!!!"
Airelle didn't even know her eyes had been closed. She opened them, blinked, and picked out Harry Potter's anxious face from the dark. They were outside the castle, in the shadows of the Whomping Willow. When had they come through the corridors – the entrance? – had it happened in a blur that Airelle did not recall being a part of?
"Professor?"
She did not reply.
His tone got even more troubled. "Professor!"
"Wha…oh, Harry… what is it?"
The fifth year looked convinced that Airelle had finally flipped her lid, but said, "We have to go under the Whomping Willow to get to Hogsmeade."
She blinked again. "Hogsmeade? Why there? And how—"
"I'll explain later," said Harry, and turned towards the tree. Airelle, however, found enough sense and composure in herself to grab the boy's shoulder and spin him back harshly to face her.
"No," she said, adopting her sternest tone. "You explain now. No more secrets, Mr. Potter— many people's lives are in danger."
Harry wriggled out of her grasp, and she didn't even notice it (her fist was still clutching empty air where the boy's robes used to be). "Yes, I know," he replied quickly, looking at her as if she were an escapee from St. Mungo's Mental Trauma Wing, "but you need our help… and that's why we have to get to Hogsmeade soon, to get Professor Lupin!"
"Lupin?" asked Airelle in shock, lowering her fist. She'd completely forgotten that her former classmate existed. "What does he have to do with this?"
"He… he figured out who was behind the attacks," said Harry, "but we… we thought it was too late, because both you and he had gone out of Hogwarts… and Dumbledore's in London now…and…"
"I see, I see," she answered shortly. "I think Professor Lupin can explain this whole thing to me better. Take me to him, and hurry – it may be too late for the others…"
~*~
Airelle had had no idea that a tunnel entrance to Hogsmeade was planted right underneath the Whomping Willow. In fact, she'd refused to believe it until Harry Potter climbed under the tree's gargantuan branches and pressed something on the trunk. Airelle decided to ask how he knew about the passageway's existence later.
"Are you certain this is the right direction?" she inquired apprehensively as they groped their way along the damp walls. Airelle had always had a certain fear of closed-in spaces, especially underground, and with her weakened emotional state, it was not a happy thing to think of.
"Pardon my frankness, Professor," said Harry out of the darkness, "but this is a one-way tunnel."
"Oh," she said bluntly, and kept on walking.
"It shouldn't be long now," Harry was speaking, and she believed him; for the tunnel had begun to rise higher and higher… finally, it made a sharp twist, and they had to turn with it. Shreds of light greeted them at the end, much to Airelle's relief. There was a small opening up on top, soft glow emanating from it.
"Let me go first, Harry," urged Airelle, and brushed past him. "I am eager to see where we are, and what exactly is going on here." Everything on her mind was getting to Lupin as fast as possible. Airelle poked her head cautiously out of the hole… and immediately wished she hadn't.
Because she was staring right into the face of Sirius Black, the Azkaban fugitive.
"AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH!!!!"
"AAAAAAHHHH!" Both of them recoiled, Black toppling backwards onto the floor and out of sight, Airelle into the hole again – narrowly missing Harry, who had planned to climb up after her. Jumping up from the floor of the tunnel, Airelle backed against the shadowy wall and took up position, wand raised. All worry was gone for now; what remained was automatic, Auror-trained instinct.
"No, wait, Professor—STOP!" A frantic Harry pulled on her sleeve and wouldn't let go as there came a thunderous crash from above them. Airelle, however, was stark enough that not even a bulldozer was likely to move her. The inside of her hand was sweating with the force of her grip on the wand. Her main objective was to incapacitate Black, not kill him; that was up to the Ministry. Although…he did have a Kill on Sight order on him…
Another voice suddenly cut into Black's muffled swearing (apparently, the fall had hurt him). "Sirius, what are you doing down here by yourself?" It took a second for that voice to sink into Airelle's beleaguered, overworked brain.
"Harry?" asked Hermione Granger, peering underground. Her face was partially hidden, and she was as pale as a wraith. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," the boy coughed back, releasing Airelle's sleeve. "Professor Vilka, you can put away your wand… I didn't warn you because I thought you'd meet Sirius later on… he's innocent."
"Innocent?" retorted Airelle skeptically, but lowered her wand all the same. "Harry, the Headmaster may trust him…" Here, she remembered Lupin's conversation with Snape on December 17th. "…However the Headmaster may trust him," she repeated, "I don't think I'll grant that to anyone for a while, not after what I've been through tonight."
"Oh, but I assure you, Airelle," said a new voice, "you do not have to be wary of my good friend here."
"So Snape had been right," she said slowly as Remus Lupin came into view and stood beside Hermione. "You are in cahoots with Black, Lupin."
"You make it sound like a bad thing, Vilka," croaked Sirius, rising up off the floor as Airelle finally allowed herself to be pulled up by the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. His left arm was bandaged and in a sling, and his hollow eyes held a sparkle of animosity. But just a little one; now, it seemed like he was too focused on the pain in his arm, which had caused him to wince repeatedly. Airelle stared at him, forgetting even to look around at where the tunnel had led her. She had never seen someone who looked as sane after Azkaban as this man did, and that was disturbing enough in itself. Dumbledore had been right – only passion could have kept Black going… and the way everyone seemed to be treating him, it looked like that passion had been fueled by the knowledge of his innocence. But if Black did not betray the Potters – then who did?
"I understand you have a lot of questions, Airelle," said Lupin mildly, watching Harry lift himself safely up from the tunnel and onto the wooden floor and then turning back to the Illusions professor, who stood dumbstruck. "You shall not be kept in the dark for long. But in return, you must answer some of our inquiries as well."
It took less than a second for Airelle to reply.
"It's a deal, Lupin. But I'll keep my wand handy, just in case."
~*~
An hour later, the five people were on the top floor of the Shrieking Shack—Black and Hermione sitting on the broken, three-legged chairs, Harry and Airelle leaning against the wall, and Lupin pacing to and fro across the room. No one seemed to want to sit on the dusty four-poster bed in the corner.
"I can't believe it," said Airelle finally into the thick silence. "I just don't believe it. Pettigrew? Peter Pettigrew betrayed your parents, Harry?"
No one answered; she looked up, and saw Black nod repeatedly, vigorously.
"That piece of slime," he said, and his voice was cold. "He's the reason I spent twelve years in that horrible place…the reason my best friend is dead now, and the reason my godson has no mother or father to care for him."
There was more silence, during which nobody wanted to continue the conversation. Airelle was the one to speak again. There were still many unanswered questions.
"It's no wonder I couldn't feel the power of Gryffindor in Peter… he was a liar and fraud all along. And now, according to what you told me, he has even greater power, with that new hand… I can't believe it, can't believe he would do this…"
"Friends betray each other, sometimes," said Lupin sadly, pausing in his stride and looking at Airelle intently. She wanted to sink into the wall from that look.
"And no one wants to believe you, Black," she said. "Snape was knocked out two years ago on this very spot before he knew the whole truth."
"He only knows that Dumbledore trusts me," said Sirius, with another tinge of ice in his voice. "But it would not matter—he'd hate me even if I were canonized as a saint."
Airelle did not reply; she knew Black was right. "Well… now I plead on his behalf," she said instead, looking straight into Black's eyes—forcing herself to look. It was hard to believe that this was the same boy who'd played practical jokes on her years ago…
"He needs your help, and so do Harry's friends," she continued, wringing her hands. "The Ministry will think I've gone mad, and who is left? Remember…Ron, Neville, Alica, and Tracy are still there, not just Snape. I do not want them to die. It is only a matter of time before Voldemort discovers I've killed Noah… and then, he'll unceremoniously murder my friends, and yours."
Harry and Hermione looked jointly horrified. Neither Lupin nor Black said anything.
"Look," exclaimed Airelle, pushing herself off the wall and walking right towards Remus Lupin, "please, help me. Yes, friends do betray each other… and I confess, we were never close, myself and you…and Black as well… but we're all against Voldemort now. And so is Professor Snape."
"But, Professor Vilka…he became a Death Eater," said Harry quietly, and Airelle winced. Ron Weasley hadn't been lying. He knew.
"We all know that," said Black, nursing his arm. "Why do you trust Snape? He betrayed everyone, replaced you with Voldemort once—so what's stopping him from pulling some strings now? Maybe he has orchestrated this whole thing! You don't know for certain what is in his mind… maybe he's been manipulating your—" (he snorted)—"friendship… with him."
Airelle scowled. "You resemble him, you know that, Black?" she sneered brutally, her dark eyes flashing. "You held in the hatred… not even Azkaban could get it out of you. As far as I'm concerned, you both are foolish."
"Now, wait a second!" said Lupin, interrupting Sirius, who was about to snarl back. "That is a fair question, Airelle. Why DO you trust Severus that much?"
Airelle blinked at him. He couldn't possibly read her eyes---could he? She looked away, just in case.
"Professor Snape made some mistakes in his life; no one has the power to deny that," she said. "But everyone commits bad deeds… and he's atoned for his. I have forgiven him, Lupin… because I realized that no matter what he had done, it did not change anything. He will remain my friend, even if he raises his wand and murders me in my own bed. I'll still, always lo—" Here, Airelle paused, realizing she'd been speaking aloud, and had said too much. There was no going back, however.
"Love him," she finished, slowly. "He's my best friend, and I shall respect him until the hour of my death. Just like you did with James, Lupin. You loved him more than yourself. And just like you are doing now, with Sirius Black."
"She's right," said Hermione, who had traces of a tear carved on her cheek. "And oh…Ron…"
There was a long pause. And then, Lupin smiled.
"Very well," he said softly. "We'll help."
"The ever-valiant Marauders," said Airelle, crossing her arms. How strange – now, this odd band – a werewolf, a fugitive, and two students – was her only hope of saving her lover and her students. Not to mention the whole Muggle world.
She really should've stayed in her bed that morning.
"Of course," said Lupin, brushing back his long strands of hair, which was slightly tangled. "Our problem will be great, however… you said Noah broke the others' wands… which means the two of us may come across Death Eaters armed only with our own magic, and having five others to protect—"
"Wait a minute!" interrupted Airelle, glancing towards Black. "What do you mean, the two of us?"
"Hermione will have her own task, and Harry needs to stay with Sirius here in the Shrieking Shack."
"Then what is the POINT of getting help if there is only one more person coming back with me?!??"
"Relax," said Lupin calmly, "you didn't hear the rest of it. Right now, it isn't our main concern. We must find the way back to your captors without being seen…"
Airelle threw her arms up in exasperation. "Lupin, how on earth will we know where to begin? It could be anywhere within Apparating distance…and though I may have some clues, it is nothing compared to the breadth of the places we could visit by those criteria…"
"What I am afraid of," said Hermione suddenly, "is that the place may be Unplottable."
"Hmm…" mused Lupin thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "You may be right… Voldemort could have anticipated Noah's failure and taken precautions… finding this place quickly may be a tricky ordeal."
Airelle froze. If the location was indeed Unplottable, like Hogwarts—not able to be put on a map—they had a real problem on their hands. A real problem, if they wanted to get to Snape and the others tonight…
Put him out of your head, Vilka… think of him as another captive, like Ron and Tracy, Alica…and Neville. It'll be your undoing if you do something stupid because he shares a bed with you.
Easy to say, Airelle told the nagging voice in her head. Not simple to do. I won't lose him to Voldemort a second time. I had sworn to that.
Then perhaps, scolded the voice viciously, Snape was right about you. You'd better not return, or you'll regret it.
Not a chance. There's nothing that'll keep me away… not even the Dark Lord himself. Nothing…except maybe…a lack of a map…
Something hit her out of nowhere, and she looked up sharply at Lupin. "Wait!" Airelle exclaimed, beginning to pace round the room and giving everyone a headache. "If we assume the worst… that Voldemort has made this place Unplottable…then there is no way we can pinpoint its location on a real map…"
"We know that already," said Black. "Your point?"
"My point is, genius," Airelle hissed, "that Voldemort may have omitted a tiny little thing in his plans."
"Get on with it, Airelle," prompted Lupin, crossing his arms.
Airelle looked like Isaac Newton who'd just discovered the fundamentals of gravity. "Yes... yes… I can't believe I never thought of this before… Voldemort hates Muggles, right? Even though he's a Muggle-born himself… still, in his rush… he might have forgotten…"
While Airelle's face dawned, the others looked stumped. "Eh?"
"Yes, of course," repeated Airelle excitedly, "this could work…"
"All right, calm yourself," said Lupin carefully, eyeing her as if she were about to explode and splatter the walls. "What do you have in mind?"
The Illusions professor stopped in her tracks and whirled to survey the crowd gathered before her. After a while, she said, "Right… Remus, Hermione… come with me… Harry, stay with your godfather, he'll need your help. Here…" Reaching into her sleeve, she pulled out a small pouch of powder and handed it to Black, who looked as confused as Harry.
"Your arm," she explained exasperatedly, shoving the pouch into his palm. "You've been burned by a magical fire somewhere—you don't need to explain—I know you needed special treatment from a hospital, obviously, you couldn't just walk in there—and this is part of my self-preservation kit—so, here you go, and save yourself the trouble."
Black stared at her, then at the pouch again.
"Mix this with three parts water and drink it… the burns will leave in three hours and seventeen minutes, precisely."
"But," Harry stammered, "where'd you get this, Professor? I thought hospital special-malady treatments were illegal to possess unless you had a licen—"
"Well, forgive my breaking the law just this once, Harry, and I won't tell anyone you're hiding a fugitive near Hogwarts," she smiled, and headed off to join Lupin and Hermione in front of the dead fireplace. They looked as disturbed as Black and Harry, and only slightly less confused.
Airelle stopped in front of Lupin and adopted the voice of that leader of the Auror Suicide Squad who existed a long time ago. "Does either of you have Floo Powder?" she asked. Hermione shrugged, and Lupin asked, "Why?"
"I really hope this house is connected to the Floo Network," replied Airelle. "The three of us need to take a little trip."
It turned out that Remus Lupin carried a veritable inventory inside his robes (which, oddly enough, hadn't included the remedy that Airelle had given Black), out of where he pulled out a small vial of Floo Powder.
Perfect.
Airelle lit the fireplace and began to give mechanical instructions.
"Right then, boys and girls. Here's where the real fun starts."
Hermione did not look convinced at this. Airelle pointedly ignored it.
"Once I light the fire, step in and say 'Vilka Home,'" she continued, distributing the powder into their palms in small pinches. "You'll be transported to my residence, and there, we'll try and find our friends' location."
"How?" asked Black, standing up.
"You'll see," she replied, taking out her wand. "Well, actually you're not coming, but in any case ---Incendio!"
The fireplace burst into orange flames with a bang that shook the room. Everyone careened backwards, shielding their eyes. Apparently, it had not been lighted in a long time.
"Good," said Airelle, and turned back to Harry and Sirius Black. "Now," she urged, "I ask you not to do anything heroic—"
"You mean stupid," said Black, grinning.
Airelle didn't smile. "Just don't go anywhere while we are gone. No matter what, is that clear?"
"Yes, Professor," said Harry.
"We'll return for you." At that, Airelle eyed the two warily, wondering if they actually believed her.
They did.
So much the better.
To be continued…
