A/N: Harry Potter and all characters are property of J. K. Rowling, Arthur
Levine, Scholastic Publishing, AOL Time Warner, and any of their subsidiary
companies. However the name Valord,
Danny Jacobson, Mordred, are mine, but if you do chose to use them in any of
your works, just give me some credit. Okay. Thank you. This is my first attempt at a Potter fanfic,
so please tell me what you think.
E.J.
Snakes and Lions.
Prologue: The Meeting
The Green Witch was an old sea faring inn on the coast of Scotland. The thatched, and patched, roof leaked, even in the smallest of rainstorms, and the floors never seemed to cease creaking. The walls looked as if they were last painted in the early 1790s and the grounds had only been taken care of once every fifty years. If not for the dim glow of light from the dirty windows people would pass right on by thinking it deserted, and most did anyway. The few that did stop at the inn could rightly see that most of those in the dinning hall were locals, wearing the oddest of clothing, robes of many colors, all in different stages of raggedness. The bartender had only one good eye, and a leg made to look like the talon of a vulture. Was it any wonder that those that stopped in quickly ate and left in a hurry when seeing the crowd that frequented the Green Witch? The locals kept mainly to themselves and tried not to bother with those that came in. They wanted no part of the travelers and those that traveled wanted nothing to do with them.
So it was a slight surprise to the locals, one stormy evening, that a woman dressed in fine robes, made of purple and black velvet, would dare to enter this den of vice and hostility. Her ice blue eyes swept the room in a quick deliberate manner, and most of the men that had been staring at her quickly ducked behind their ancient hats, or became very interested in the stew that was sitting on the table before them. The woman paid these men no mind, but marched right up to the bar, and placed her carrying case besides her. The barkeep looked up, eyeing the woman carefully, for, although she was dressed elegantly, she was sopping wet, and her black hair was a disheveled mess.
"Whot can I do for yeh miss?" the bartender asked wiping off the dark wooden top.
The woman's eyes combed over his face twice before she spoke, in a clipped, precise way, "Do you have any private parlors?"
The bartender rolled his one good eye, and leaned forward on the bar. "Miss, now, does this look like the sor' ta place that has a parlor room? Only one dinning room, ma'me, and a few rooms upstairs ta rent. Are yeh plannin' on stayin' long then?"
"No, only for dinner," the woman said curtly, and scanned the room once more. "There, that table, near the fireplace, away from the windows. I'll take that seat."
The barkeeper shrugged, "If'n that's what you want. 'Course, Henry McGillin won't be happy 'bout it. That's his seat, and he's a sore sort 'o man."
"Then Mr. McGillin will just have to find a new seat to claim as his own." The woman said as she picked up the case, and moved swiftly to the table in the back near the fire. Then placing her case on the table, and laying her cloak over the grate before the fire, she sat and pulled out a black wand from inside her left sleeve. Shaking the water off, she waved it over her head, muttered a word and sat back as her hair swiftly twisted itself into a tight plait. Silently the woman turned her chair towards the fire and warmed her hands. The winds were picking up, and the storm was growing worse. She noticed that the windows rattled and shook, and some of the locals were quick to move away from them.
No doubt, she thought, looking at the worn woodwork, they were as worried as she was that the windows would blow in at them. The Bartender, cursing softly as he got out from behind his bar, pulled an extremely worn wand from his dirty smock and muttered a quick spell at the window. The windows instantly stopped shaking, and locked in place by invisible hands. At that the Bartender walked back to his bar and picked up his copy of 'The Daily Prophet'.
At first a small, plump looking witch, surely the owner's wife, had come over and told the woman what they had for dinner that evening. But the woman just waved the small witch away saying she'd wait till her guest came to eat. The witch shrugged her shoulders and walked back to the bar to get more drinks for the rest of the crowd. The woman watched the locals for several minutes, seeing if any were interested in her presence there. If they were, these locals, certainly didn't act like they were, which suited the woman just fine. Hunger was starting to catch up with her, and since her trip was so long, she wished that she had eaten something earlier. Fighting back the pains she turned her attention to the flames and admired how they danced about as music piped in the background over an outdated radio tuned to WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network). For a moment or so the woman allowed herself to relax and just soak in the atmosphere. However a sharp wind from the cracks in the wall caught her off guard, and she shivered. This action brought about some looks from the locals, who seemed to think that a little cold never hurt anyone. She frowned back at them, and that brought back her foul temper.
To calm her mind she pulled out a letter that she had received only two or three days before from inside her robes. The writer had scrawled the letter in a hasty way, as if he too had been unsure about what to say.
'F –Hope this gets to you. We must meet… too many things to explain here. Green Witch Inn…should be safe. Keep your eyes and ears open. –R'
The woman read the letter over and over; she scoured the piece of parchment looking for anything that she might have missed. A droplet of ink, a change in the way the paper felt, something that might give away why the writer had insisted upon meeting her here. Or even where he'd written it from.
As the evening wore on, the locals were leaving and the storm worsening. The woman began to wonder if her guest was going to come, and was pondering the idea of leaving, when a group of men gave a wide birth to a man and a black dog who'd just stepped in though the door that they had just pulled open. The men gave this new traveler a sour looks, and then took their leave muttering about how rude people were becoming in this day and age. The man and dog were sopping wet, and the man looked worse then his pet, as his hat was drooping, and water dripped off his cloak onto the floor making large puddles. His robes were shabby, and looked well worn in. His face was wrapped in a scarf, but it was clear that he had been ill. His skin was pale, and he had shadows under his eyes. The dog, while strong and well built, looked just as bad as the owner. He was a big black thing, with a pair of deep-set black eyes, and a strong jaw; however his coat was a dull color, and he looked just as exhausted as the man that walked besides him. The Bartender took one look at the man, cast a wary glance at the dog, and growled, "We don' serve free meals, mate. So you an' tha' mongrel can just…"
"Ah, I see my guests have arrived," said the woman in the fine robes as she hurried over to the bar. She petted the dog on the head, linked her arm with the man and led him away to the table calling over her shoulder. "Sir, if you could, three dishes of your best stew, two drinks of butter beer, and a bowl of broth for the dog, if you would."
The Bartender looked annoyed, but nodded and shuffled around to the kitchen. Once he was out of sight, the trio of travelers sat back down and the woman said pointedly, "So what's the word? Is it true, is Voldemort back?"
The man let out a heavy sigh, "From what Sirius has told me…yes, and he's been restored."
The man un-wrapped his face, and took off his hat, placing both by the fireside. He had a young face, but his brown hair was flecked with gray, and the woman thought it gave him a bit of a distinguished nature. The man gave the woman a quick glance as the small witch bustled over wheeling a tray with three bowls of stew, a small bowl of broth, and some rolls. She put the bowls for the dog down first, who eagerly ate the stew with much vigor, splashing some broth onto the hem of the woman's cloak. She raised a fine eyebrow, and sniffed at the dog.
"Thank you very much," the man said as he was served, at once the witch gave him a smile; the woman, however, curtly nodded her head, and the witch scowled at her shaking her head and casting the man a sad look. Once she had gone back into the kitchen the man chuckled, "I do believe she doesn't like you, my dear."
"Please, Remus," the woman said taking a spoonful of her stew. "If I cared what everyone thought of me, I would never be able to do my job." She looked down at the dog, "And you, I see you still haven't mastered the idea of table manners, Sirius Black. But I suppose being on the run hasn't allowed you that grace period to learn, has it. "
"Then you know…" Remus said inquisitively to the woman, who simply nodded as she ate.
"My dear Professor Lupin, I know only bits and pieces. I know that you were working at Hogwarts for a spell, and that Sirius broke out by using one of his many…talents." She gave the dog a slight smile and he whined at her, wagging his tail, then looked back at Remus. "And I heard some bits on what happened last year at Hogwarts. Sadly my…informer…has been very unwilling to give me all I need to know. She's been very hesitant, and I suppose she naturally is so due to my connections and all. So, first things first, this is all that I know."
She became silent when the small witch returned carrying the butter beers, fully foaming, to the table, and once more shot the woman a harsh look before departing back into the kitchen. The woman smirked, pleased that she could still make people dislike her, and lowered her voice as she continued, watching those around to see if the locals were listening to her.
"I know that four years ago a Professor Quirrel tried to steal the Philosophers Stone. Apparently Voldemort possessed him, and used him to retrieve it. I also know that the year after the Chamber was opened by a student, and once more for whatever reason, this attack was linked to Voldemort. The year you came to school Sirius escaped," and at this she looked to the dog saying softly, "And you will forgive me for my stupidity in even daring to think you were at all a spy for Voldemort," then continued with a quick breath. "He was tracked to the school, and by what Dumbledore has informed me of, it was discovered by the two of you that Peter Petigrew was behind the murders. He escaped your custody, and hasn't been seen in nearly two years. Then, just last year, Bertha Jorkins goes missing, followed by Barty Crouch. There is a Triwizard tournament, and Cedric Diggory was killed. And each of these situations have arisen around Harry, and appear to be attacks that were meant to kill him, or use him in some way to further Voldemort. Have I got it so far?"
Lupin nodded, washed down the last of his stew, and then said, "So far, yes."
"Good," the woman said. "Now, tell me," and her face for the first time showed anxiety, "is he okay? He's safe right now, right?"
"Oh, yes," Remus assured the woman and tried to give her a smile to calm her. "He's back with his Aunt and Uncle. Dumbledore made certain of that."
However the look on the woman's face barely changed, and he realized she wanted to know what he knew of the matter. Clearing his throat he quickly explained to her what he understood of the situation. He told her all that Sirius had related to him about Harry Potter, and the events that occurred during the Triwizard Tournament. That Harry had made it to the end of the third task, a maze that held many dangers including a giant Blast ended Skewrt, a Boggart ("Which Harry dealt with magnificently using a Patronus."), and several other creatures. Then when he and Diggory had touched the Cup, it turned out to be a port key that sucked them to a graveyard. That, here, Diggory was killed by Voldemort, and that Wormtail had pierced Harry in the arm and used his blood, and Wormtail's own hand, to regenerate Voldemort. How Voldemort had forced the boy to duel, and how, when their wands met, a 'Priori Incantatem' (Reverse spells) occurred, forcing all of the curses the wand had made to come out in reverse order. That Lily and James Potter, along with Bertha Jorkins, and a Muggle known as Frank Bryce, and Cedric, had come out of the wand. And somehow, in spite of attacks by Death Eaters and being very badly hurt, Harry managed to get to the portkey and bring back Cedric's body, and himself, back to Hogwarts.
When Remus had finished, he sat back and the woman was staring down at the table. When she looked up, he saw she was forcing back tears, but there was a dangerous power that glowed in her eyes.
"And so it begins," she said softly. Remus pulled a letter from his robes and passed it to her.
"I received this with a letter from Dumbledore. It was addressed to you, I haven't read it."
The woman glanced at the letter in his outstretched hand, for a moment she hesitated in taking it, then gently lifted it, and opened it. Her eyes moved quickly over the parchment, and after a few moments, she looked up and stuffed the letter into her own robes.
"So, I guess this is where we part ways, old friend. It would have been nicer to see you in better circumstances. I take it Sirius has been making the Wolfsbane potion for you then?"
"Yes," Remus said starting to get up and put on his hat. "But I have to say he can't seem to make it taste any good. Never was much of a cook."
The woman laughed for the first time since she entered the Green Witch Inn. Remus smiled at her and asked if she would be staying the night.
"No, no, I don't think I will be." Said the woman as she pulled the letter out once more, "Mordred will be upset if I'm not back, and I don't think I would be welcome here anyway." She stood up and embraced him quickly then said in a loud voice, "I'll be seeing you, dear brother. Take care of you're self, and watch out for those Marauders. They're nothing but trouble."
Remus laughed at this comment, and said, "But of course, dear sister. I'll be very careful not to run afoul of them."
The woman said a sweet good-bye to Sirius as well, giving him a hug and rubbing behind his ears. Then, with one last embrace, Remus and Sirius departed though the door of the Green Witch Inn and out into the storm where, after passing by a few trees, Sirius Black retook his human form, both men disapperated. The woman waited a few more minutes before making her own departure with her case in tow, and wandered out into the storm for several miles. Five miles from the Inn she unpacked a Silver Arrow broom she carried in the case, assembled it with record speed, mounted and took to the sky. She rode for several hours above the clouds, not wanting to have any suspicion cast on her incase anyone doubted that she was a traveler, until she was certain that she had not been followed. Then, positive that she was safe, she landed in a marsh, disassembled her broom, and packed it back into the case. Once she was satisfied with that she pulled a small black box from the same case, lifted its lid, and touched a diamond cufflink.
Instantly she felt herself pulled from the marsh, felt a rush of wind, and landed softly before a regal looking mansion. Trees surrounded the mansion, but one could hear the sound of waves pounding against a nearby cliff. The woman walked quickly to the giant house, pulled her wand out, said "Alohomora" and watched as the two oak doors parted silently to let her in. The doors closed once she passed the threshold, and a beautiful black raven flew down landing on her arm. She smiled stroking his head.
"There's a good boy, Mordred. Miss me? I'll be you did." She cooed to the bird as she ascended the lush marble staircase. "You know what boy? We have a job again, and guess where were going? Were getting to go back home Mordred, back to where it all began. Back to Hogwarts, and you're going to meet a very special boy, my dear pet. A very special boy by the name of Harry Potter."