Chapter Ten: The Ex-Prisoner of Azkaban

The next morning at breakfast, Harry noticed Ron staring at Professor Stanley, and he wasn't the only one.

Stanley looked different—quite pretty, actually. Her usually wild curls had been tamed somewhat and pulled back in a simple, but attractive style, held in place by clips that looked like fairy wings. She was wearing an appealing blue robe instead of the blindingly-bright yellow one she usually wore. It was hard to tell from where he was sitting, but Harry thought she was even wearing a bit of makeup.

"I never noticed before, but Stanley's sort of good-looking," Ron said, a forkful of eggs suspended a few inches from his mouth.

"I noticed," Neville said irritably.

Ron ignored him. "Why don't you do your hair like that, Hermione?"

"Why don't you dry up, Ron, and eat your breakfast," Hermione snapped. "It's not polite to stare. Besides, she didn't do it for your benefit."

"Where is Ol' Slimeball anyway?" Ron asked, noticing that Professor Snape had not yet arrived. Harry knew Ron had never forgiven Snape for washing his hair, thus robbing him of a prime source of insults.

Neville shot Ron a nasty look and mumbled, "I still say he doesn't deserve her."

Hermione glowered at them both with disgust. "I didn't mean to imply that she did it for Snape, I meant that she probably did it to raise her spirits after yesterday. Professor Stanley doesn't strike me as the sort of woman who would dress for a man." She said it in such a way as to indicate that she wasn't that sort of woman either.

Harry waited for Ron to make some snide comment about Hermione dolling herself up for Viktor Krum for the Yule Ball the previous year, but he just rolled his eyes and went back to eating his breakfast.

Harry remained quiet on the subject as he studied the copy of yesterday's Daily Prophet he had found lying in the Gryffindor common room last night. He gazed at the old picture of Professor Balin grinning devilishly.

"Don't let him catch you, Harry," Stanley had said with a look he wouldn't soon forget. "Voldemort might want to kill you, but Balin will make you wish you were dead."

He read the list of crimes that this man—the worst of Voldemort's Death Eaters (according to the Prophet, at least)—had been convicted of before Harry was even born: rape, torture, mutilation, and murder of dozens of Muggles and wizarding folk, including children! Harry glanced at Professor Stanley, feeling both angry and sickened at the thought of what Balin must have done to her to make her so distraught yesterday.

Harry silently prayed to any gods who happened to be listening that he wouldn't be Balin's next victim.

*

Draco Malfoy hoped he could finish eating before his Head of House took his place at the teacher's table. Just the thought of Snape gazing upon his beloved in her transformed state made him want to heave. He snorted. That ugly little witch would need more than a new hairstyle and a cheap robe to make her even marginally attractive.

When was Father going to do something about them? Draco had owled his father about Stanley's breakdown yesterday just as he had any bit of information that he thought could be used against her and Snape. He just knew her collapse had something to do with Professor Balin's escape. He smiled wickedly. Whatever it was that Balin had done to her, Draco approved.

*

Snape had been up early that morning, working on Voldemort's poison so he'd be sure to have it finished before the fortnight deadline. He had been so preoccupied with his task that breakfast was half over before he realized the time. For a second after he entered the Great Hall, he thought a strange woman in blue had taken Veronica's seat.

"Veronica, what have you done to yourself?" Oh, that was bloody brilliant.

She blushed uncomfortably. "I look ridiculous, don't I?"

Severus found himself making plans to steer her into an empty corridor for a quick kiss before their first class as he took his seat. "You look…wonderful."

Her face flushed scarlet, but she seemed pleased. "I owled Rosmerta—you know, from the Three Broomsticks—after you left last night. The poor thing dragged herself out of bed early this morning to help me with all this. It took over an hour, though she swears that with practice I'll have it down to twenty minutes."

Another compliment stuck in his throat as an uncomfortable thought occurred to him. "Veronica, you didn't have to do this for me."

Her expression quickly became self-conscious. "I-I didn't do it for you." She laughed nervously. "I just thought I'd do it for a lark, you know, just to see how I'd turn out." Veronica then took a sudden interest in her orange slices.

Damn! I should have never said anything about her appearance last night. What business did he have giving anyone fashion advice? Again, Severus was at a loss at what to say to smooth things over. Soon, he noticed Veronica's face holding the same anxious look it did yesterday morning. Being supportive and reassuring was not in his nature, so he decided to handle the situation in the only way he knew how. He leaned over slightly and whispered firmly in her ear, "Stop it."

Veronica looked up from her plate and sighed. "Stop what?"

"I'll not have a repeat of yesterday, Veronica." Severus smirked. "You've had your breakdown for the year. I'm afraid you'll have to wait until next January for another." When she broke out into a small smile, he added, "It doesn't matter why you did it. What matters is that you proved him wrong, once and for all."

He was gratified to see the tension leave her face, at least temporarily. A moment later, when the owls bearing the morning post filled the Great Hall, Severus saw Veronica put down her fork and grip the edge of the table. Along with their rolled-up copies of the Daily Prophet was another letter from her parents. This time the owl that delivered it perched itself on the back of her chair and hovered over her, obviously waiting for a response.

Veronica handed the hungry owl a strip of bacon off the platter on the table, but did not open her letter. Instead, she turned to him. Severus had only half unrolled his copy of the paper, unsure as to whether he should read it in her presence or not.

"It's all right," she told him. "We need to know what he's up to."

Severus scanned the front page. "He's been spotted in the French countryside, but he was able to evade the Aurors. At least he's not in England." But the fact that Balin was on the continent did little to relieve her anxiety.

The owl behind her flapped its wings impatiently. Veronica sighed in resignation and opened the letter from her parents. Severus read it over her shoulder…

Dear Vee,

We're out of minds with worry, sweetheart, as you can probably imagine after Professor Dumbledore's visit yesterday morning. Even more so now that we didn't receive a reply to our last letter. What that horrid man did to you was not your fault! You have no reason to be embarrassed or ashamed, especially with your own family.

Dumbledore told us that you have a dear friend who has helped you through this, which we're very grateful for, but you should have the support of your family as well. We need to see you. We need to know that you're all right. Please say you'll come to dinner this Saturday and bring your friend if that would make it easier for you.

This owl is under strict orders not to leave your side until he receives an answer, so send your reply directly. We love you and want to help. Please don't push us away.

Love,

Mum and Dad

PS. Please don't be cross with Professor Dumbledore, he did the right thing by telling us.

It was strange for Severus to read such a heartfelt letter, never having received one himself. What he couldn't fathom was why Veronica would be reluctant to accept the support of two people who obviously loved her very much.

She sat quietly for a few moments, then asked, "So, will you come with me?"

He hesitated. "I don't like the idea of you leaving the castle. Besides, I don't see how my presence will help matters."

"Please come with me, Severus, just for a few hours." Veronica forced a smile. "You'll give them something else to stare at besides me."

Severus snorted. "When you put it that way, how can I refuse?"

*

Yesterday, Severus had been Veronica's main source of comfort and safety. Today, he made her palms sweat. When he guided her away from the throng of students and into an empty corridor for a kiss, she found herself wishing they could go back to being just friends. It wasn't that she didn't care for him or his kisses—it frightened her to think of how much she wanted him. Perhaps that was the reason she wanted to take a step back. Or maybe it was just that the added stress of this new aspect of their relationship was more than she could handle right now. In any event, he'd made it clear he wouldn't tolerate any more histrionics, so she decided to make the best of it. But how long would Severus be satisfied with just kissing?

Veronica had her back to the wall, her heart pounding in her chest. Severus was leaning toward her with his hand placed above her, making her feel a little claustrophobic. She didn't dare let it show on her face.

"I'm afraid I have…extra work to do this week," he told her, lightly fingering her fairy-wing hair clip. "So I won't be able to spend much time with you."

By the tone and inflection of his words, Veronica knew the extra work was for Voldemort. She used the opportunity to let some of the anxiety she felt for their relationship show through, knowing it would be misinterpreted. Then she smiled understandingly. "Severus, I've never expected you to explain to me how you spend your time and I don't expect it now after a few kisses. You'll see me when you can, I know that. In fact, I'll understand if you can't make it Saturday."

"If I can't make it Saturday, you won't be going either," he said sternly. "You're not to leave the castle by yourself."

She waved away his concern. "Now that I've had some time to think about the dream, I think we're both blowing it out of proportion. Balin will make contact with Voldemort soon, if he hasn't already. If he does come to Hogwarts, he'll come for Harry Potter, not me."

The relief she saw on his face was understandable, the resentment she once again felt towards Harry was not. They parted only right before the first bell rang.

Trying to maintain her normally positive outlook was almost impossible given the circumstances, but Veronica tried to at least appear cheerful to the outside world. Her new look certainly helped towards that purpose. From what she could gather from the bits of gossip that reached her ears, people had guessed at least part of the truth—that she had suffered at Balin's hands, but no one was interested in the details. They just expected her to act as if everything was all right now, but it wasn't. This Saturday, she would be forced to put on another show for her parents. Why had she asked Severus along?

At least Balin wasn't in England, but then, he had stolen a wand from one of Azkaban's wizard guards. It was possible that he could be Apparating all over the world with his two dementors just to throw off the Aurors. He could be at Hogwarts main gates in the blink of an eye, but that wasn't very likely, even if he knew she was here. Admit it, you're just not that important. Veronica didn't understand these feelings she had—feelings she could never tell anyone about. A little part of her wanted Balin to come for her. She had been special to him and if there was any truth to the dream she'd had, she still was. She was the only one he had ever burned with the Dark Mark. And he was the only person that Veronica didn't have to pretend with. Balin never demanded that she be cheerful or act like she felt anything other than what she truly felt.

Two days later, Veronica had to face the fifth-year Gryffindors again. She had thought long and hard about what she should say to explain her behavior the other day, but couldn't bring herself to do it. They knew, like everyone at Hogwarts knew. What good would it do to give them more details? So, she did her best to pretend as if nothing had happened at all. Thankfully, the students respected her unspoken wishes.

That is, except for Harry Potter. As the students filed out after class, Harry hung back. The boy wanted answers and who could blame him? Veronica had very likely frightened him half to death with her cryptic warning about Balin.

"Run along now, Harry," she said just as the boy started to speak, hiding the resentment she felt beneath a bright smile. "You don't want Professor Snape giving you detention for tardiness, especially since I know you have Quidditch practice after school today."

Harry frowned in disappointment, then nodded. "Sure Professor, it wasn't important anyway."

*

Even though Severus had told Veronica he would be busy for the remainder of the week doing work for Voldemort, he was oddly concerned by the fact that besides mealtimes, he didn't see her at all. And when he did see her, she seemed a bit too cheerful given the fact that Balin was still on the loose. Unfortunately, his concerns about Veronica would have to wait if he hoped to finish Voldemort's poison before the deadline.

All of his duties suffered. He was even forced to grade his students' homework unread. His Slytherins, particularly the sons and daughters of Death Eaters, received top marks; Gryffindors received bottom marks—all except for Granger. Severus gave that irksome overachiever her usual passing grade just to keep the girl quiet.

When the deadline came and Voldemort didn't call him, Severus began to get a little nervous. Was Voldemort waiting to see what Balin would do? The fugitive had been spotted all over Europe, one step ahead of the Aurors. What worried Snape the most was that he was leaving no dead bodies in his wake. What was Balin waiting for?

*

Late Saturday afternoon, Severus met Veronica in her office before they left for her parents' house. She looked as pretty as he had ever seen her. She had on her flattering blue robe and her hair was done up in an attractive bun, a wisp of curls framing either side of her face. This was the first time they had been alone for days, so naturally he took the opportunity to kiss her. The kiss itself was the most passionate they had ever shared, but her body felt tense in his arms. Perhaps it has to do with my meeting her parents tonight? The thought had occurred to him that a set of Hufflepuff parents might not be too thrilled at the notion of their daughter keeping company with the Head of Slytherin House—especially given their daughter's past history.

"I promise I won't embarrass you tonight," he said with a wry grin.

Veronica smiled, seeming to be her cheerful self. "Oh, dear, I was rather looking forward to a bit of drama. I had visions of my father challenging you to a duel and you turning him into a frog." At his apprehensive look, she laughed. "Severus, they're Hufflepuffs! You will be an honored guest in their home. You'll be lucky if my mother doesn't adopt you before the night's out."

Veronica showed no signs of anxiety as she and Severus left the safety of Hogwarts, but the officious Auror at the gate questioned them at length about where they were going and when they expected to return. Even though as a professor, Severus could come and go as he pleased, it did worry him for the next time Voldemort did call him.

They Disapparated and reappeared a short distance from a tiny cottage at the end of an unpaved lane. Hogwarts snow was replaced by Manchester wind and rain. They both quickly pulled up the hoods of their cloaks, and Severus logically hurried toward the shelter of her parents' home.

Just as Severus heard Veronica call his name in alarm, he felt it—the sensation of dozens of razor-sharp daggers piercing his flesh. The damned wards! He tried to retreat from the invisible daggers, but his feet were frozen in place. His breathing became rapid and shallow as perspiration started beading on his forehead. He tried to yell, 'I'm going to get you for this, woman!', but it came out as a strangled and decidedly unmanly cry.

"Dad! Lower the wards, it's us!" Veronica yelled.

A short, older man in gray robes rushed from the house. "Oh, dear!" With a word and a wave of his wand, Mr. Stanley lowered the protective barrier. Severus found himself suddenly falling forward; Mr. Stanley rushed to his side. He and Veronica caught Snape's arms as his knees started to buckle. Severus was thankful for the fact that he didn't fall face first into the mud, but managed to regain his balance with their help.

They were joined at the door by a woman who looked like an older version of Veronica. She was wearing an apron over her plain brown robes. She joined her daughter and husband in helping Severus into the humbly furnished sitting room and onto the faded but comfortable armchair by the fire.

"I'll get some tea," Mrs. Stanley said, rushing to the kitchen. In the meantime, Severus patted his chest, checking for holes.

"Don't worry," Veronica said, "there's no permanent damage."

"Mighty impressive bit of magic, eh?" Mr. Stanley said as he pointed out the door. Then he put a loving arm around his daughter's shoulder. "My clever little girl came up with that."

Veronica blushed. "Dad, please."

Severus was only now beginning to feel his strength returning. "Very impressive, indeed." He was again reminded that underneath Veronica's small and delicate frame, beat the heart of an extremely powerful witch. "I wonder why Dumbledore doesn't use it around Hogwarts."

Veronica shook her head. "It's only good for small residences, I'm afraid."

Just then, her mother entered with a tea tray and Veronica proceeded with the introductions. She not only told them that Severus was Hogwarts' Potions Master, but that he was also the Head of Slytherin House.

Severus waited for the look of disapproval he thought sure would come, but instead Mr. Stanley took his hand and shook it vigorously.

"So, you're Vee's friend Professor Dumbledore was telling us about," her father said in the friendliest voice Severus had ever heard. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Mrs. Stanley regarded him just as warmly as she handed him a teacup and the largest of the scones off the tray.

Severus mostly listened while Veronica chatted pleasantly with her parents. They were both pleased at the change in her appearance, but they also voiced their concerns for her well-being. Veronica smiled brightly as she assured them that she was "just fine", then quickly changed the subject. She didn't ask about Dumbledore's visit and her parents seemed reluctant to bring it up as well. After a half hour's worth of small talk, Severus noticed Mr. Stanley give his wife a significant look behind his daughter's back.

Mrs. Stanley immediately rose and took Veronica by the hand. "Come help me in the kitchen, sweetheart. It'll give your dad and Professor Snape a chance to get better acquainted."  

For the first time since they had arrived, Veronica glanced at Severus anxiously. He nodded his head slightly to let her know it would be all right as her mother led her out of the room. As soon as the women were out of earshot, Mr. Stanley shook his head with worry. He looked at Severus with such honesty and straightforwardness, he reminded him a little of Dumbledore. "How is she?"

Severus sighed. "A little too damned cheerful, under the circumstances."

"That's our Vee," he replied in frustration. Mr. Stanley paused for several moments as he glanced down at his hands. "This…creature that hurt my little girl—do you think he'll come after her again?"

As much as Severus wanted to assure him that his daughter was perfectly safe, he already had too much respect for Mr. Stanley to lie to him. "I honestly don't know, sir, but I believe it's more likely he'll return to Vol—You-Know-Who, rather than come to Hogwarts."

"It's all right, Professor," Mr. Stanley said with a smile, "You can say—V-voldemort. I can almost say it without tripping over it myself." He paused again. "Did you know him?"

Severus regarded him with shock. What did Dumbledore tell him? "Voldemort?!"

"Goodness, no, Professor!" said Mr. Stanley, almost amused. "The other one." His expression suddenly turned angry. "His name I can't say, I'm afraid."

Severus nodded. "He was my Head of House."

"Why?" Mr. Stanley asked plaintively. "Why would he hurt her, of all people? She's the sweetest girl you're ever likely to meet. Never hurt a soul in her life."

Severus hesitated, but once again decided that this man deserved to know the truth. "I believe that's exactly why he chose her. He enjoyed inflicting pain on innocent people." He looked Mr. Stanley in the eye. "As I said, I don't know if he'll come for her or not, but I will tell you that I'll protect her with my life."

"I'll be honest, Professor, I've never had much use for Slytherins, but Dumbledore spoke so very highly of you. He trusts you and so does Vee. I can see it in the way she looks at you." He held out his hand again to Severus. "That's good enough for me."

The women returned shortly and announced that dinner was ready. Severus helped Mr. Stanley set up the table and chairs, converting the sitting room into a dining room. The fare was simple, but tasty. Mrs. Stanley made certain Severus received the largest portions of everything she served. When he complimented her on her pumpkin cakes, she promised to send him home with a few extras, "Just in case you're feeling peckish later."

"Told you she'd try to adopt you," Veronica said playfully.

After dinner, Veronica showed him the rest of the small house, then took him into her old bedroom. The room was tiny and cramped to him, but was probably still quite comfortable to her judging by the warm expression on her face. The little bed was covered with a patched and faded pink quilt. The dresser and wardrobe were mismatched and somewhat battered. Severus suspected that they had been second-hand when she got them. Veronica had mentioned some time ago that her father was a junk dealer, but Severus was still struck by the humbleness of their circumstances. The Stanleys weren't exactly poor, but they were definitely working class. He felt a twinge of guilt at the instinctive patrician contempt he suddenly felt for their lack of wealth. He made certain it did not show on his face.

Severus picked up an old porcelain doll—no doubt, also second-hand—that was sitting on her dresser. The doll was missing some of her hair as well as one of her arms; her green satin dress was in tatters as were her yellowed petticoats.

"That's Clara," she told him. "Pathetic, isn't she?"

"It appears she's had a nasty accident," he said, indicating her missing limb.

"That was no accident," Veronica replied ominously. "She lost her arm in the Doll Wars."

"The what?"

She grinned. "During holidays, my brothers, Dennis and Tim, would take my dolls and their toy soldiers and have war games. My eldest brother, Gilbert, was the conscientious objector in the family so refused to participate." She took the doll from him and placed Clara lovingly back in her place on the dresser. "Were you an only child?"

Severus nodded. Just one healthy son was needed to carry on the bloodline. After she had fulfilled her obligation to his father, his mother had refused to have another. "I suppose after she saw me, my mother didn't want to risk it a second time. Imagine if I'd had a sister with a nose like mine?"

"I like your nose," she said as she reached up and lightly tapped the tip. "It's the only thing around that's bigger than my hair."

One corner of his mouth curled up. "Nothing is bigger than your hair."

Veronica laughed. Severus took her chin in his hand and leaned in to kiss her. Abruptly—almost violently—she pulled away. She bumped the dresser, causing Clara to crash to the floor. The doll's porcelain head smashed into a dozen pieces.

At the sight of her beloved toy broken on the floor, Veronica rushed from the room in tears. Severus had a feeling that her sudden distress had little to do with her broken doll. He took out his wand and repaired the doll to its previous condition. He left her room and found Mr. and Mrs. Stanley in the corridor looking strangely relieved that their daughter was finally showing some of her true emotions for the first time this evening.

"She's in the garden shed out back," Mrs. Stanley told Severus. "She used to hide in there when she was a little girl."

It was still raining, so Severus hurried through the small back garden, opened the door to the tiny shed and just managed to squeeze himself inside. Veronica was sitting on a crate in the back of the shed. She had taken her hair down and had tried to rub some of the makeup off her face. The rubbing along with her tears had caused her eye makeup to smear, making her look a little like a raccoon. He took a linen handkerchief from his robe pocket and held it out in the rain for a moment to moisten it. Then he knelt down in front of her and gently wiped the makeup from around her eyes. He was grateful she didn't flinch at his platonic touch.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I couldn't wait till next year for another breakdown."

"Is that what this is all about?" he asked, not bothering to hide his irritation. "I never meant for you to think that you had to pretend like nothing was wrong. I thought we were friends. If you didn't want me to kiss you, you should have said so."

"Oh, Severus, it's so much more complicated than that." Veronica took the handkerchief from him and began to twist it fretfully. "Ever since Balin first...raped me," she mouthed the word 'raped', "I've secretly hoped that I would be whole again someday, but I don't think I ever will be. And it isn't just a matter of being uncomfortable with you touching me, because sometimes I'm not. I do want you, but there's something wrong with me—with the way I think."

"What do you mean?"

She hesitated. "Remember when I put the memories of his abuse in the Pensieve and you destroyed them?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Veronica looked away guiltily. "Well, I didn't put them all in. There were times when he was so gentle and he made me feel so good—"

"He did it to manipulate you," Severus said quickly.

"I know. That's what makes it so twisted. Part of me misses him. Part of me still wants him." Veronica looked down at her feet and whispered, "Part of me wants him to hurt me again." She managed to lift her head and meet his gaze. "You deserve someone who can love you properly."

"And you deserve to be hurt, is that it?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes, I think I do. I told you, I'm not…normal."

"And I am?" He rose to his feet angrily. The top of his head brushed the ceiling of the small shack. "I've killed people, Veronica."

"Severus, I know—"

"I'm not just referring to the people I've poisoned, but the ones I've tortured to death. There were times when I even enjoyed it a little. Now, that's hardly normal either. Do you still think my soul is worth saving?"

"You know I do," she replied sincerely.

"That is one of the reasons why I care for you as much as I do." He had to suppress the desire to take her in his arms. If only that were enough to take her pain away. "And if I can be redeemed, then you can be whole again."

He saw a spark of hope in her eyes, quickly replaced by fear. "But how long do you think you can stand me like this? I love you, but you're not a very patient man."

Veronica had no idea how much it meant to him to hear her say she loved him, especially now. "No, but I'm a very stubborn man and I don't like not getting my way."

She smiled slightly. "I've noticed that."

Severus opened the door to the shed and held out his hand. "Now, come along and kiss your parents goodbye, then I'll take you home."

Veronica rose from her crate and took his hand. "They like you, you know."

He broke out in a sardonic grin. "You see, miracles happen all the time."

*

Rupert Balin felt his Mark burn more painfully than it had since his escape from Azkaban. Voldemort was calling him home—urgently. As comforting as that was, it had been twenty long years since he'd had a chance to play. Surely, his old Master would understand if he had a little fun before returning to his service.

"Please stand to the right when using the escalators…" the omnipresent London Underground announcer proclaimed.

Balin studied the strange moving staircase for several minutes, considering how best to proceed. He was dressed like a respectable Muggle gentleman, an Obscuring Charm blurring his features, thus preventing the Muggle passers-by from recognizing him as the most wanted man in Britain. He was pleased no end that his past crimes still served to terrorize both Muggle and wizard, but it was time to show them all that he had not lost his edge.

Several Muggles rushing to the subterranean train they called the 'Tube' turned to hurl insults at Balin for standing in their way. Without knowing why, they invariably swallowed their vitriolic comments and walked around him, giving him a wide berth and pulled their coats tightly closed.

The two dementors flanking Balin were the cause of their discomfort. Though they were invisible to the Muggles, even non-magical folk could feel their icy presence. The rotting creatures towered over their tall human companion, hovering near him expectantly—restless for the souls he'd promised them.

"Please keep your belongings safe. Pickpockets operate at this station…"

Pickpockets will soon be the least of your problems, Balin thought evilly. He felt his pulse race with anticipation as he stepped onto the escalator, followed by his dementors. With a rakish smile, Balin made sure to stay to the right as instructed by the unseen announcer, but noticed that those who had gotten on after him chose to remain where they were instead of passing him. One Muggle actually turned around and struggled up the down escalator. Even with the Obscuring Charm to hide his face, Balin couldn't afford to dally too long.

Balin and his comrades finally reached the bottom of the strange staircase and entered the platform, the hooded creatures gliding alongside of him. The Piccadilly Circus station was filled with well over a hundred Muggles waiting for trains.

Balin breathed in deeply; the stench of human souls was like perfume. He caught the movement of a shapely leg out of the corner of his eye. A pretty blonde woman and her redheaded friend were slowly inching away from him.

Balin pulled out his wand and grinned devilishly. "Appareo!"

Suddenly, the two women screamed. The dementors, no longer invisible, drew back their hoods to reveal their gray, scabbed skulls and immediately fell upon them. Each dementor took one of the women around the neck, their breath rattling, their shapeless gaping mouths opening wide.

Muggles started howling with fear and rushed towards the entrance to escape the dementors. Little did they know that the human with them was more dangerous than a thousand of the rotting creatures. Balin pointed his wand again, this time at the exit. "OBSIDO!"

Muggles falling over themselves to flee slammed into an invisible barrier. Though Balin was never terribly fond of the Killing Curse (it was far too quick and merciful), it did make an impression. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" Blinding green light flashed from the end of his wand, sending the deadly spell straight into the middle of the crowd of Muggles still attempting to claw their way out of the platform.

A second later, two dozen Muggles lay dead. Balin sighed in satisfaction, then turned to his companions. The dementors had sucked the souls out of ten Muggles so far. Their victims lay on the floor of the platform in trembling, mindless heaps.

Over the sounds of screaming, Balin heard a train approaching. It was time to go. He ordered the dementors to stop their feeding; they did so reluctantly. "No need making pigs of yourselves."

They lowered their heads in a sulking posture as they once again took their places on either side of their master.

As the train pulled into the station and the bothersome voice called, "Mind the gap", Balin  pointed his wand above his head and bellowed, "INCENDIO HUMANUS!"

The air all around the trio crackled and hissed, then burst into flame. Balin Disapparated with his dementors just as the exquisite shrieking reached his ears, followed by the smell of burning flesh.

***