Short chapter, I know. Needed to get something out tonight.
* * * *
Dinner came and went without incident, though the tension between Lucius and Snape had grown and it was now noticeable enough that Dumbledore had asked them both up to his office after the meal had ended. Glory took the opportunity to escape the constant glances from Lucius and followed some of the students outside to watch a Quidditch practice in progress. Her heart beat faster as she watched Potter zoom through the air and take a nose dive toward the ground. He pulled out of it at the last moment and Glory had to laugh, clasping her hand over her pounding heart.
It had been ages since she had flown, even longer since she had played a game of Quidditch but the sight of the students flying through the air made her want to get her broom out of the closet and join them.
"Professor Beckwith!" a strong voice called her and Glory turned to see Harry Potter walking toward her. He looked slightly out of breath, but was smiling and clutching his broom tightly.
"Mr. Potter," she said, smiling at him.
"I heard you played Quidditch when you went to school here," he said.
Glory smiled slightly, at least the boy got straight to the point. "Word travels quickly."
"Snape . . . er, Professor Snape mentioned it in class today."
Glory arched an eyebrow. "Did he?"
Harry nodded. "He said you were one of the best Beaters Ravenclaw had ever seen. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. We never have enough professors who want to referee our games, so I thought I might ask you."
Glory's eyes went back to the sky and she heaved a sigh. "I'll think about it, Potter," she said softly. "I'd certainly love to get back on a broom again."
Harry beamed at her and nodded. "Thanks a lot, Professor Beckwith. I'll see you in class on Wednesday."
Glory nodded, her eyes still following the zooming players who were quickly disappearing into the night sky. How free she had felt on a broom, the wind whipping through her hair, the limitless sky before her. They had asked her not to fly anymore when word reached them that Voldemort wanted her. That was when the Ministry had forced her to retire from being an Auror as well. She hated that they could dictate her life, but they were right. Her presence was a risk to everyone.
"Glorificus Beckwith?"
Hearing her name startled her and Glory turned toward the source of the noise, expelling a burst of energy as she did. The man in the shadows groaned slightly, but it didn't seem to hurt him too badly as he limped into the light. He looked haggard and worn, ten years older than he probably was. He was thin, too thin almost and a thick stubble covered his chin and cheeks.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Remus Lupin," he said, holding out his hand and introducing himself.
Glory took his head and shook it gently, feeling the cool skin and the shaking fingers. He looked deathly ill.
"We have to get you to the hospital wing," she said, reaching for his arm.
Lupin shook her off. "I need to see Severus Snape and I'll be fine." He paused and brushed back the long hair that hung in his eyes. "It's you I came to see, actually."
Glory frowned. "Me?"
"Yes, Miss. Beckwith," he said.
"Call me Glory."
Lupin nodded. "As long as you call me Remus."
Glory smiled. "Of course."
"Then Glory, I'm afraid I may have some bad news," Lupin continued, limping toward the school. "Rumours are spreading like wildfire. Voldemort wants you and he's not going to wait much longer."
"How do you know?"
Lupin met her eyes. "I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. It's my job to know."
Glory stared at him a long moment, then said, "You're the werewolf then?"
Lupin nodded. "I'm the werewolf." His gaze slid from hers and he began to self consciously pick at the hem of his jacket. "I understand if that bothers you . . . I'm used to it."
Glory look at him, then shrugged slightly. "Look at my face, Remus. You felt what came out of me just a few minutes ago. You're the werewolf and I'm the freak. We make a good pair."
Lupin's eyes met hers again and he saw the truthfulness in her words there. With a smile, he continued talking and led her toward the school. His light demeanor and words were hiding what he really felt; utter terror for what the Dark Lord might do to the young woman by his side. The rumours had been spreading, that hadn't been a lie, but Lupin hadn't told her what those rumours were. He didn't think she needed to hear what Voldemort would do once he got his hands on her.
He wanted her power and he vowed to tear her inside out to find it.
* * * *
* * * *
Dinner came and went without incident, though the tension between Lucius and Snape had grown and it was now noticeable enough that Dumbledore had asked them both up to his office after the meal had ended. Glory took the opportunity to escape the constant glances from Lucius and followed some of the students outside to watch a Quidditch practice in progress. Her heart beat faster as she watched Potter zoom through the air and take a nose dive toward the ground. He pulled out of it at the last moment and Glory had to laugh, clasping her hand over her pounding heart.
It had been ages since she had flown, even longer since she had played a game of Quidditch but the sight of the students flying through the air made her want to get her broom out of the closet and join them.
"Professor Beckwith!" a strong voice called her and Glory turned to see Harry Potter walking toward her. He looked slightly out of breath, but was smiling and clutching his broom tightly.
"Mr. Potter," she said, smiling at him.
"I heard you played Quidditch when you went to school here," he said.
Glory smiled slightly, at least the boy got straight to the point. "Word travels quickly."
"Snape . . . er, Professor Snape mentioned it in class today."
Glory arched an eyebrow. "Did he?"
Harry nodded. "He said you were one of the best Beaters Ravenclaw had ever seen. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. We never have enough professors who want to referee our games, so I thought I might ask you."
Glory's eyes went back to the sky and she heaved a sigh. "I'll think about it, Potter," she said softly. "I'd certainly love to get back on a broom again."
Harry beamed at her and nodded. "Thanks a lot, Professor Beckwith. I'll see you in class on Wednesday."
Glory nodded, her eyes still following the zooming players who were quickly disappearing into the night sky. How free she had felt on a broom, the wind whipping through her hair, the limitless sky before her. They had asked her not to fly anymore when word reached them that Voldemort wanted her. That was when the Ministry had forced her to retire from being an Auror as well. She hated that they could dictate her life, but they were right. Her presence was a risk to everyone.
"Glorificus Beckwith?"
Hearing her name startled her and Glory turned toward the source of the noise, expelling a burst of energy as she did. The man in the shadows groaned slightly, but it didn't seem to hurt him too badly as he limped into the light. He looked haggard and worn, ten years older than he probably was. He was thin, too thin almost and a thick stubble covered his chin and cheeks.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Remus Lupin," he said, holding out his hand and introducing himself.
Glory took his head and shook it gently, feeling the cool skin and the shaking fingers. He looked deathly ill.
"We have to get you to the hospital wing," she said, reaching for his arm.
Lupin shook her off. "I need to see Severus Snape and I'll be fine." He paused and brushed back the long hair that hung in his eyes. "It's you I came to see, actually."
Glory frowned. "Me?"
"Yes, Miss. Beckwith," he said.
"Call me Glory."
Lupin nodded. "As long as you call me Remus."
Glory smiled. "Of course."
"Then Glory, I'm afraid I may have some bad news," Lupin continued, limping toward the school. "Rumours are spreading like wildfire. Voldemort wants you and he's not going to wait much longer."
"How do you know?"
Lupin met her eyes. "I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts. It's my job to know."
Glory stared at him a long moment, then said, "You're the werewolf then?"
Lupin nodded. "I'm the werewolf." His gaze slid from hers and he began to self consciously pick at the hem of his jacket. "I understand if that bothers you . . . I'm used to it."
Glory look at him, then shrugged slightly. "Look at my face, Remus. You felt what came out of me just a few minutes ago. You're the werewolf and I'm the freak. We make a good pair."
Lupin's eyes met hers again and he saw the truthfulness in her words there. With a smile, he continued talking and led her toward the school. His light demeanor and words were hiding what he really felt; utter terror for what the Dark Lord might do to the young woman by his side. The rumours had been spreading, that hadn't been a lie, but Lupin hadn't told her what those rumours were. He didn't think she needed to hear what Voldemort would do once he got his hands on her.
He wanted her power and he vowed to tear her inside out to find it.
* * * *