Chapter 4: Vengeance
The next morning, Crescent headed down to breakfast, and yelped as something shot out in front of her, tripping her. She went tumbling head over heels down the staircase, yelping the entire way.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!" she yelled as she finally landed at the foot of the staircase. Her head was spinning, and she felt as though she was going to throw up. "Ohh, my head...Damn, that hurt." Suddenly, she heard low laughter coming from nearby, and she tried to sit up. "All right, when I catch the jackasses responsible for tripping me, I'll..."
Before she could say another word, she passed out from the pain in her head.
A few feet away in the shadows, Pansy Parkinson's eyes grew wide, and beside her, Bartholomew Garrison snickered. He had convinced her to take revenge on Crescent because of the way that she'd humiliated Draco the day before, and she'd agreed to.
But she hadn't thought that Crescent would get hurt. She'd just thought that Crescent would trip and slide down the stairs on her butt.
"You never said that she might get hurt!" Pansy hissed at Bartholomew furiously. He was still snickering. "We could get in big trouble! We could get *expelled*!"
"Aw, don't be such a baby, Pansy," Bartholomew replied. "Who cares if she dies? She's just a mudblood. It's not like she was important or anything."
Pansy's mouth fell open. She may not have liked muggle-borns very much, but she liked someone who had such a blatant disregard for a person's life even less.
"It doesn't matter if she's a mudblood," she said angrily. "She's still a person, and we could still get in trouble!"
Suddenly, they both heard footsteps coming upstairs, and they quickly darted back to the Slytherin common room.
A moment later, Pansy flinched as she heard Hermione Granger, one of Crescent's friends, scream, "Someone get Madam Pomfrey!"
* * *
Harry, Ron, and Hermione paced in front of a room in the hospital wing, anxiously awaiting word from Madam Pomfrey about Crescent. She had been found by Hermione when she had gone to see if Crescent was coming down for breakfast. She had been bleeding from a cut on her head, and was unconscious.
Suddenly, the doors to the hospital wing burst open, and a strange man and woman ran into the room. The man was about six feet tall, with thick black hair, blue-grey eyes and a five'o'clock shadow, and the woman only came up to his chin, with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. They were both obviously muggles. Suddenly, Harry recognized them. They were Crescent's parents.
"Where's Crescent?" asked Mrs. Greyson worriedly.
"She's in there, Mrs. Greyson," replied Harry, pointing towards Crescent's door. "She still hasn't regained consciousness yet. Madam Pomfrey told us that she would let us know when she did." He, Ron, and Hermione gave each other worried glances, and then they turned back to look at Crescent's parents.
* * *
Virginia swallowed. Her little girl had been hurt. When she and Wolf had received the message, they had immediately gone through the traveling mirror to get to Hogwarts. When they'd gotten there, they had met Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school, and he had pointed them in the direction of the hospital wing.
Suddenly, Wolf let out a growl, and ran at the door. He hit it with his shoulder as hard as he could, and the door burst inwards. Both Wolf and Virginia ran into the room, but when they got in there, they froze.
Crescent was lying down on a bed, and a woman wearing an old-fashioned nurse's uniform was leaning over her, examining her head. Crescent wore a pair of pajamas. The nurse looked up at Wolf and Virginia, and scowled.
"This young woman does not need visitors barging into her room!" she exclaimed, standing upright.
"But she's our daughter!" replied Virginia, preventing Wolf from replying. He was bristling slightly at the nurse's attitude. "We had to make sure she was all right. Professor Dumbledore contacted us and told us that she'd been hurt, and so we came here as quickly as we could."
"Well, all right," said Madam Pomfrey reluctantly. "You can visit her. But don't expect a big reaction; she's still unconscious."
* * *
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all walked into the room, staring at Crescent with wide eyes. Her skin was extremely pale, and her long black hair made her seem even paler.
Hermione choked back a sob. Harry and Ron both gave her sympathetic looks. They knew exactly what she was thinking about. After all, she'd been the one to find Crescent.
Suddenly, Crescent's eyes opened. She stared up at them, and Harry got the strangest feeling. Like she was seeing something other than them.
"Crescent?" asked Mrs. Greyson softly. "Sweetie, can you hear us?"
"For seven men she gave her life," Crescent whispered. Harry blinked and looked over at Ron and Hermione. They both gave him blank looks. Harry turned back to Crescent. "For one good man, she was his wife," she continued. "Beneath the ice at Snow White Falls, there lies the fairest of them all." Then her eyes closed again.
Harry blinked again, and looked up at Crescent's parents.
"Who was she talking about?" he asked, confused. Her parents both glanced at each other, worried looks on their faces.
"I think we should leave," said Mr. Greyson finally. He and his wife started to walk away, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed where they were.
"Who was she talking about?" Harry persisted. Mr. and Mrs. Greyson turned to face the three of them.
"We can't tell you right now," replied Mrs. Greyson hesitantly. "We know who she was talking about---"
"But it's probably better if Crescent tells you herself," finished Mr. Greyson. He looked unhappy. "Now, I assume that the school nurse would appreciate it if we left Crescent alone so that she could rest."
"Yes, I would appreciate it," snapped Madam Pomfrey as she came back into the hospital room. "This young lady has quite a bump on her head, and she needs rest! Out of here, all of you! Shoo!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione gave Crescent's unconscious form one last look of confusion, and then they followed Mr. and Mrs. Greyson out of the room. Madam Pomfrey stood over Crescent for a few moments, and then she also left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.
A few moments later, a figure appeared out of the shadows. She was an older woman, with shoulder-length black hair and hazel eyes, and she wore a dress with a black laced-up bosom, a long white skirt, and billowing white sleeves. She was beautiful, and there was a gentle smile on her face.
"Crescent, I know why you've called me," she murmured softly. "Don't be afraid. I'm here."
Snow White, fairest of them all, placed her hand on her goddaughter's forehead, and Crescent let out the faintest of sighs before she fell asleep. The injury on her head disappeared completely, and Snow White stepped away from Crescent.
A moment later, Crescent was alone in the room once again. But she now had a smile on her face.
* * *
The next morning at breakfast, the entire Great Hall was buzzing about what had happened to Crescent. Apparently, nobody wanted Crescent to die, except for most of the Slytherins. One or two Slytherins came up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione to tell them that they hoped Crescent wouldn't die.
Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table. Bartholomew Garrison, one of the transfer students, was laughing about what had happened to Crescent.
"The stupid mudblood got what she deserved," he said.
Harry felt as though his blood was going to boil over. How could anyone be so heartless? But before he could do or say anything, everyone in the Great Hall gasped, and he, Ron, and Hermione turned to see what had happened.
To their amazement, the person who had just walked into the Great Hall was none other than Crescent herself, looking bright-eyed and cheery, as though nothing had happened.
"Crescent!" yelled Ron, jumping to his feet. "You're all right!"
"Of course I'm all right; I've got a really thick skull," Crescent joked. "Madam Pomfrey didn't want me to leave the hospital wing so soon, but she finally admitted that I was completely healed. But even so, she still didn't let me out of there until I'd eaten some chocolate." Crescent ran her fingers through her thick black hair, a perplexed look on her face. "Why would she want me to eat some chocolate?"
"Because chocolate can be a medicine sometimes," said a young man who had just appeared next to her. He had red hair like Ron, but he was a bit stockier. Crescent saw that his cloak had the Gryffindor symbol on one side. "You're Crescent, right?" he asked, and held out his hand. "I don't believe I've properly introduced myself."
"Aw, Fred, now how could you forget to properly introduce yourself?" said another young man, who looked nearly identical to Fred. Crescent looked from one to the other, her eyes wide. "Of course, I'm not exactly one to talk; I haven't introduced myself, either. Fred and George Weasley, at your service. We're twins, in case you haven't noticed."
Crescent grinned.
"I noticed," she said dryly. "Are you two Ron's older brothers?"
"Two of 'em, anyway," Ron replied dryly. "I've got five older brothers: the twins, Percy, Bill, and Charlie. And I have one sister. Her name's Ginny. She's a fourth-year. She's down there." He pointed to a younger student who was sitting a few feet away. She had shoulder-length red hair and brown eyes, like her brothers.
Crescent's eyes grew wide.
"Are Percy, Bill, and Charlie here, too?" she asked curiously. Ron shook his head.
"Nah," he replied. "They've graduated, and this is Fred and George's last year."
"But we shall be remembered for everything that we've done here at school," said Fred, sounding as though he was giving a speech.
Harry snorted.
"Like the time that you, George, and Lee Jordan decided to see what would happen if you fed a Filibuster Firework to a salamander?" he asked, grinning. Crescent stared at him.
"Question: what exactly *does* happen if you feed a Filibuster Firework to a salamander?" she asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be.
"It zooms around the room, shooting sparks out of both ends," George informed her.
The look on Crescent's face sent Fred into a fit of laughter, and George had to whack his twin on the back repeatedly to make him cough up the piece of toast that he was choking on.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were barely able to keep the grins off their faces.
Crescent sighed. Then she pulled out her schedule and consulted it.
"Okay, what's today's lesson?" she muttered. She did a double-take at what was listed as her next class. "Defense Against the Dark Arts? What the hell's that?"
"A class where we learn about various monsters and how to defend ourselves against them," replied Ron. Crescent grinned, and started to say something, but Ron wasn't finished yet. "Some of the students think that the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts is jinxed, 'cause none of the teachers last for more'n a year. At least, it's been that way for the past four years."
"So, who's the teacher this year?" asked Crescent curiously. Ron shrugged.
"Dunno. Haven't seen him at the staff table."
A few minutes later, everyone gathered up their books, and headed towards the classroom.
* * *
Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked through the doorway of the classroom where Defense Against the Dark Arts was being taught, and stopped dead in their tracks. There was a young man in his early to mid-thirties sitting behind the desk. He had light brown hair with flecks of grey, and brown eyes.
As one, Harry, Ron, and Hermione yelled, "Professor Lupin! You're back!"
Remus Lupin glanced up at the three students, and gave them a huge grin.
"That's right," he replied. "And I'm going to be here for more than a year this time."
At that moment, Crescent walked into the classroom and froze, staring at Lupin.
"Crescent, are you all right?" asked Hermione, sounding concerned.
"He's like me," Crescent said. "Part wolf. I can smell it."
"No, he's not," replied Harry, confused.
"Harry, my nose doesn't lie."
"He's not like you. He's a werewolf." Crescent turned to stare at Harry, her jaw dropping.
"Oh, my god. He's a werewolf?" Harry nodded warily, and Crescent grinned hugely. "That is so cool!"
"Well, I'm glad that I've got your seal of approval," said Lupin. He sniffed the air. "You have wolf blood."
"That's because I'm part wolf," replied Crescent. "Three-quarters human on my mom's side of the family, and one-fourth wolf on my dad's side of the family. He's half-human, half-wolf."
Lupin smiled.
"You must be one of the exchange students," he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "And since you're a Gryffindor, you can only be Crescent Greyson. I'm Remus Lupin. Professor Dumbledore told me why you were chosen as an exchange student."
The smile left Crescent's face, and she instantly looked wary.
"He did?" she asked cautiously.
"Yes, he did. I'm the only teacher here that he's told, however. He didn't even tell Professor McGonagall."
"He probably thought that you would be the most understanding," said Crescent, relaxing slightly. "That makes it all right, then."
A moment later, the rest of the class filed in, and Crescent's hackles rose when she saw that half the class was made up of Slytherins. She fought back the urge to growl, and sat down next to Harry.
As soon as everyone was seated, Professor Lupin stood up, and Crescent's nose was almost immediately assaulted by the stench of hatred radiating from most of the Slytherins.
"Good morning, everyone," said Professor Lupin pleasantly. "I understand that everyone learned about the Unforgivable Curses last year: the Imperious Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse. Performing any one of those three curses on someone can land you in Azkaban." He smiled grimly. "But those aren't the only illegal Dark curses that can land you in Azkaban. Can anyone name an illegal curse aside from those three that I just mentioned?"
Hermione's hand immediately shot up, and, to Crescent's immense distaste, so did Bartholomew Garrison's on the other side of the room.
"Yes, Mr. Garrison?" asked Professor Lupin.
"The Drowning Curse," said Bartholomew, sounding smug about his answer.
"Ah, yes," Professor Lupin replied, a grim look on his face, and Bartholomew put his hand down. "The Drowning Curse is particularly dangerous because it's used as an alternative to the Cruciatus Curse when a Dark witch or wizard tortures someone. When the Drowning Curse is placed on someone, it slowly fills their lungs with water, until they either drown, or the curse is lifted. What's another one?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air again, and Professor Lupin motioned for her to give her answer.
"The Freezing Curse," she replied promptly, and Professor Lupin nodded.
"When the Freezing Curse is placed upon a person, it can turn them into blocks of ice," he said. "Can anyone name another curse?"
Draco Malfoy's hand shot into the air this time, and Professor Lupin called on him.
"The Breathless Curse," he said.
"When placed upon someone, the Breathless Curse cuts off their oxygen, which causes them to choke to death while attempting to breathe." As one, the entire class flinched. "There's one other curse, but it's not one that is mentioned in a book," said Professor Lupin. "Twenty points to the House of whoever can name this particular curse."
The students all glanced at each other, confused. Even Hermione looked baffled.
"Hermione, I don't suppose you know what the curse is, do you?" Harry whispered. Hermione shook her head.
"I haven't the faintest clue," she whispered back. Ron looked stunned.
"Blimey," he muttered. "Even Hermione doesn't know the answer. It must be a really rare curse if it's not in a book."
Crescent ignored them. She was trying to remember something that her dad had told her about what had happened to one of his childhood friends.
**flashback**
"Daddy, who was your best friend when you were a cub?" ten year old Crescent asked as her father tucked her into bed.
Wolf smiled down at his daughter.
"My best friend was named Senna," he replied. "She was two years younger than me, and was half-human, half-wolf, just like me." Wolf's face clouded over. "But when I was ten, and she was eight, she got into an argument with a little boy whose family had just moved into a house in the town near where we lived. She won the argument, but the boy's family came and dragged her out of her house. They claimed that she had attacked their son, and then they burned her alive, from the inside out." Wolf stroked his chin for a few seconds. "I've never been able to figure out how they were able to do it just by pointing a stick at her."
**flashback**
Crescent closed her eyes for a moment. Suddenly, the answer appeared in her mind, and her eyes flew open.
Her hand shot into the air, and Professor Lupin glanced over at her in surprise.
"Do you know the name of the curse, Ms. Greyson?" he asked. Crescent swallowed hard.
"The Burning Curse," she whispered. The rest of the class all turned to stare at each other, whispering amongst themselves.
"And do you know what happens when the Burning Curse is placed upon someone?" Professor Lupin asked.
"It burns the person on the inside until they spontaneously combust," Crescent said, and the entire class flinched again.
"The Burning Curse is considered to be nearly equal to the Killing Curse," Professor Lupin said. Suddenly, the bell rang. "Class dismissed."
* * *
That evening in the Gryffindor common room, Crescent sat curled up in a chair, reading a book of fairy tales. Suddenly, Fred and George came up to her, and she saw that they were grinning. Crescent narrowed her eyes slightly, suddenly suspicious.
"All right, what prank did you two just pull?" she demanded. Fred pouted at her.
"Aw, how'd you guess that we just pulled a prank?" he asked.
"Because you both look like the proverbial cat that ate the canary," Crescent replied. She arched an eyebrow at the two of them. "I repeat: what prank did you two just pull?"
"We just paid a visit to the dungeons," said George, grinning.
"And?"
"We redecorated the Potions classroom," Fred said.
"After all, dark, gloomy colors are *so* passe," continued George, imitating a snooty interior decorator. "Patterns of red and gold is *much* more stylish."
Crescent snorted.
"I can't wait to see the look on Snape's face when he gets an eyeful of the Potions classroom," she said, laughing. Then she got up and left the common room, heading for the girls' bathroom down the hallway.
A few minutes later, Crescent left the bathroom, and began to head back to the Gryffindor common room. But before she got very far, she stopped in her tracks, and inhaled deeply through her nose. Someone was following her.
Crescent spun around, but didn't see anyone there. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Whoever was following her was still there; they were just hiding until she turned back around.
"All right, whoever's following me, I know that you're back there," she called. "You might as well come out of hiding and show yourself."
A moment later, Bartholomew Garrison stepped out of the shadows, a scowl on his face.
"How did you know I was there, mudblood?" he demanded. Crescent bristled slightly at being called a mudblood, and resisted the urge to attack him.
"I have excellant hearing," she informed him icily. "Why are you following me?"
"Because I know that you're sneaking around the castle," Bartholomew replied.
Crescent rolled her eyes.
"You're an idiot," she said disgustedly. "I had to go to the bathroom, and I am now heading back to the Gryffindor common room. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to the book that I'm reading right now, which awaits me in the Gryffindor common room. Good night."
With that, she walked up the staircase towards the Gryffindor common room.
"Password?" asked the Fat Lady.
"Spidersilk," replied Crescent, and the portrait frame swung open. She walked into the Gryffindor common room, and curled up in the same chair as before.
* * *
The 3rd Kingdom...
Burly glared at his younger brother and sister.
"Have you found where the witch is yet?" he demanded. Blabberwort and Bluebell shook their heads.
"Naw, we haven't found her yet," Blabberwort replied. "But we're still looking. She and that wolf couldn't have gone very far."
"What if they're in the 4th kingdom right now?" asked Bluebell. He looked upset. "If the witch and the wolf---"
"Not to mention their halfbreed daughter," interrupted Burly.
"---Are in the 4th kingdom, then they'll be under guard. Not to mention there'll be a bunch of wolves flocking around that one wolf."
"Yeah," said Blabberwort. "Last I checked, he was still being hero- worshipped."
"Well, if they are in the 4th kingdom, then we should try to capture them," Burly said firmly. "After all, we still have to avenge Dad's death."
Suddenly, a troll ran into the throne room, and bowed low before the Troll King's children.
"Your majesties, I have information about the witch's daughter," he said.
"Well, spit it out already!" snapped Burly.
"She isn't living with her parents right now."
"That's it?" asked Blabberwort. She looked disgusted. "That's not useful information!"
"She's living at a school of witchcraft and wizardry, and is training to be a witch," the troll added.
Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell stared at each other in horror.
"If she becomes a witch, she could do to us what her mother did to Dad!" said Blabberwort fearfully.
"We have to stop her from becoming a witch," Bluebell said angrily. "An ordinary witch is bad enough, but a witch who's part wolf is worse!"
"We'll go to the school where she's training to be a witch, and destroy her!" said Burly firmly, pulling out his ax and holding it high in the air. "For Dad!"
Blabberwort and Bluebell pulled out their weapons, and did the same.
"For Dad!" they yelled at the same time.
to be continued...
* * *
A/N: Wow! This is the longest chapter yet! As always, please R&R, but no flames. Flamers will be pelted with dungbombs, and then they'll get their sorry arses kicked from here to the Bog of Eternal Stench.
The next morning, Crescent headed down to breakfast, and yelped as something shot out in front of her, tripping her. She went tumbling head over heels down the staircase, yelping the entire way.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!" she yelled as she finally landed at the foot of the staircase. Her head was spinning, and she felt as though she was going to throw up. "Ohh, my head...Damn, that hurt." Suddenly, she heard low laughter coming from nearby, and she tried to sit up. "All right, when I catch the jackasses responsible for tripping me, I'll..."
Before she could say another word, she passed out from the pain in her head.
A few feet away in the shadows, Pansy Parkinson's eyes grew wide, and beside her, Bartholomew Garrison snickered. He had convinced her to take revenge on Crescent because of the way that she'd humiliated Draco the day before, and she'd agreed to.
But she hadn't thought that Crescent would get hurt. She'd just thought that Crescent would trip and slide down the stairs on her butt.
"You never said that she might get hurt!" Pansy hissed at Bartholomew furiously. He was still snickering. "We could get in big trouble! We could get *expelled*!"
"Aw, don't be such a baby, Pansy," Bartholomew replied. "Who cares if she dies? She's just a mudblood. It's not like she was important or anything."
Pansy's mouth fell open. She may not have liked muggle-borns very much, but she liked someone who had such a blatant disregard for a person's life even less.
"It doesn't matter if she's a mudblood," she said angrily. "She's still a person, and we could still get in trouble!"
Suddenly, they both heard footsteps coming upstairs, and they quickly darted back to the Slytherin common room.
A moment later, Pansy flinched as she heard Hermione Granger, one of Crescent's friends, scream, "Someone get Madam Pomfrey!"
* * *
Harry, Ron, and Hermione paced in front of a room in the hospital wing, anxiously awaiting word from Madam Pomfrey about Crescent. She had been found by Hermione when she had gone to see if Crescent was coming down for breakfast. She had been bleeding from a cut on her head, and was unconscious.
Suddenly, the doors to the hospital wing burst open, and a strange man and woman ran into the room. The man was about six feet tall, with thick black hair, blue-grey eyes and a five'o'clock shadow, and the woman only came up to his chin, with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. They were both obviously muggles. Suddenly, Harry recognized them. They were Crescent's parents.
"Where's Crescent?" asked Mrs. Greyson worriedly.
"She's in there, Mrs. Greyson," replied Harry, pointing towards Crescent's door. "She still hasn't regained consciousness yet. Madam Pomfrey told us that she would let us know when she did." He, Ron, and Hermione gave each other worried glances, and then they turned back to look at Crescent's parents.
* * *
Virginia swallowed. Her little girl had been hurt. When she and Wolf had received the message, they had immediately gone through the traveling mirror to get to Hogwarts. When they'd gotten there, they had met Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of the school, and he had pointed them in the direction of the hospital wing.
Suddenly, Wolf let out a growl, and ran at the door. He hit it with his shoulder as hard as he could, and the door burst inwards. Both Wolf and Virginia ran into the room, but when they got in there, they froze.
Crescent was lying down on a bed, and a woman wearing an old-fashioned nurse's uniform was leaning over her, examining her head. Crescent wore a pair of pajamas. The nurse looked up at Wolf and Virginia, and scowled.
"This young woman does not need visitors barging into her room!" she exclaimed, standing upright.
"But she's our daughter!" replied Virginia, preventing Wolf from replying. He was bristling slightly at the nurse's attitude. "We had to make sure she was all right. Professor Dumbledore contacted us and told us that she'd been hurt, and so we came here as quickly as we could."
"Well, all right," said Madam Pomfrey reluctantly. "You can visit her. But don't expect a big reaction; she's still unconscious."
* * *
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all walked into the room, staring at Crescent with wide eyes. Her skin was extremely pale, and her long black hair made her seem even paler.
Hermione choked back a sob. Harry and Ron both gave her sympathetic looks. They knew exactly what she was thinking about. After all, she'd been the one to find Crescent.
Suddenly, Crescent's eyes opened. She stared up at them, and Harry got the strangest feeling. Like she was seeing something other than them.
"Crescent?" asked Mrs. Greyson softly. "Sweetie, can you hear us?"
"For seven men she gave her life," Crescent whispered. Harry blinked and looked over at Ron and Hermione. They both gave him blank looks. Harry turned back to Crescent. "For one good man, she was his wife," she continued. "Beneath the ice at Snow White Falls, there lies the fairest of them all." Then her eyes closed again.
Harry blinked again, and looked up at Crescent's parents.
"Who was she talking about?" he asked, confused. Her parents both glanced at each other, worried looks on their faces.
"I think we should leave," said Mr. Greyson finally. He and his wife started to walk away, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed where they were.
"Who was she talking about?" Harry persisted. Mr. and Mrs. Greyson turned to face the three of them.
"We can't tell you right now," replied Mrs. Greyson hesitantly. "We know who she was talking about---"
"But it's probably better if Crescent tells you herself," finished Mr. Greyson. He looked unhappy. "Now, I assume that the school nurse would appreciate it if we left Crescent alone so that she could rest."
"Yes, I would appreciate it," snapped Madam Pomfrey as she came back into the hospital room. "This young lady has quite a bump on her head, and she needs rest! Out of here, all of you! Shoo!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione gave Crescent's unconscious form one last look of confusion, and then they followed Mr. and Mrs. Greyson out of the room. Madam Pomfrey stood over Crescent for a few moments, and then she also left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.
A few moments later, a figure appeared out of the shadows. She was an older woman, with shoulder-length black hair and hazel eyes, and she wore a dress with a black laced-up bosom, a long white skirt, and billowing white sleeves. She was beautiful, and there was a gentle smile on her face.
"Crescent, I know why you've called me," she murmured softly. "Don't be afraid. I'm here."
Snow White, fairest of them all, placed her hand on her goddaughter's forehead, and Crescent let out the faintest of sighs before she fell asleep. The injury on her head disappeared completely, and Snow White stepped away from Crescent.
A moment later, Crescent was alone in the room once again. But she now had a smile on her face.
* * *
The next morning at breakfast, the entire Great Hall was buzzing about what had happened to Crescent. Apparently, nobody wanted Crescent to die, except for most of the Slytherins. One or two Slytherins came up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione to tell them that they hoped Crescent wouldn't die.
Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table. Bartholomew Garrison, one of the transfer students, was laughing about what had happened to Crescent.
"The stupid mudblood got what she deserved," he said.
Harry felt as though his blood was going to boil over. How could anyone be so heartless? But before he could do or say anything, everyone in the Great Hall gasped, and he, Ron, and Hermione turned to see what had happened.
To their amazement, the person who had just walked into the Great Hall was none other than Crescent herself, looking bright-eyed and cheery, as though nothing had happened.
"Crescent!" yelled Ron, jumping to his feet. "You're all right!"
"Of course I'm all right; I've got a really thick skull," Crescent joked. "Madam Pomfrey didn't want me to leave the hospital wing so soon, but she finally admitted that I was completely healed. But even so, she still didn't let me out of there until I'd eaten some chocolate." Crescent ran her fingers through her thick black hair, a perplexed look on her face. "Why would she want me to eat some chocolate?"
"Because chocolate can be a medicine sometimes," said a young man who had just appeared next to her. He had red hair like Ron, but he was a bit stockier. Crescent saw that his cloak had the Gryffindor symbol on one side. "You're Crescent, right?" he asked, and held out his hand. "I don't believe I've properly introduced myself."
"Aw, Fred, now how could you forget to properly introduce yourself?" said another young man, who looked nearly identical to Fred. Crescent looked from one to the other, her eyes wide. "Of course, I'm not exactly one to talk; I haven't introduced myself, either. Fred and George Weasley, at your service. We're twins, in case you haven't noticed."
Crescent grinned.
"I noticed," she said dryly. "Are you two Ron's older brothers?"
"Two of 'em, anyway," Ron replied dryly. "I've got five older brothers: the twins, Percy, Bill, and Charlie. And I have one sister. Her name's Ginny. She's a fourth-year. She's down there." He pointed to a younger student who was sitting a few feet away. She had shoulder-length red hair and brown eyes, like her brothers.
Crescent's eyes grew wide.
"Are Percy, Bill, and Charlie here, too?" she asked curiously. Ron shook his head.
"Nah," he replied. "They've graduated, and this is Fred and George's last year."
"But we shall be remembered for everything that we've done here at school," said Fred, sounding as though he was giving a speech.
Harry snorted.
"Like the time that you, George, and Lee Jordan decided to see what would happen if you fed a Filibuster Firework to a salamander?" he asked, grinning. Crescent stared at him.
"Question: what exactly *does* happen if you feed a Filibuster Firework to a salamander?" she asked, almost afraid of what the answer would be.
"It zooms around the room, shooting sparks out of both ends," George informed her.
The look on Crescent's face sent Fred into a fit of laughter, and George had to whack his twin on the back repeatedly to make him cough up the piece of toast that he was choking on.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were barely able to keep the grins off their faces.
Crescent sighed. Then she pulled out her schedule and consulted it.
"Okay, what's today's lesson?" she muttered. She did a double-take at what was listed as her next class. "Defense Against the Dark Arts? What the hell's that?"
"A class where we learn about various monsters and how to defend ourselves against them," replied Ron. Crescent grinned, and started to say something, but Ron wasn't finished yet. "Some of the students think that the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts is jinxed, 'cause none of the teachers last for more'n a year. At least, it's been that way for the past four years."
"So, who's the teacher this year?" asked Crescent curiously. Ron shrugged.
"Dunno. Haven't seen him at the staff table."
A few minutes later, everyone gathered up their books, and headed towards the classroom.
* * *
Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked through the doorway of the classroom where Defense Against the Dark Arts was being taught, and stopped dead in their tracks. There was a young man in his early to mid-thirties sitting behind the desk. He had light brown hair with flecks of grey, and brown eyes.
As one, Harry, Ron, and Hermione yelled, "Professor Lupin! You're back!"
Remus Lupin glanced up at the three students, and gave them a huge grin.
"That's right," he replied. "And I'm going to be here for more than a year this time."
At that moment, Crescent walked into the classroom and froze, staring at Lupin.
"Crescent, are you all right?" asked Hermione, sounding concerned.
"He's like me," Crescent said. "Part wolf. I can smell it."
"No, he's not," replied Harry, confused.
"Harry, my nose doesn't lie."
"He's not like you. He's a werewolf." Crescent turned to stare at Harry, her jaw dropping.
"Oh, my god. He's a werewolf?" Harry nodded warily, and Crescent grinned hugely. "That is so cool!"
"Well, I'm glad that I've got your seal of approval," said Lupin. He sniffed the air. "You have wolf blood."
"That's because I'm part wolf," replied Crescent. "Three-quarters human on my mom's side of the family, and one-fourth wolf on my dad's side of the family. He's half-human, half-wolf."
Lupin smiled.
"You must be one of the exchange students," he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "And since you're a Gryffindor, you can only be Crescent Greyson. I'm Remus Lupin. Professor Dumbledore told me why you were chosen as an exchange student."
The smile left Crescent's face, and she instantly looked wary.
"He did?" she asked cautiously.
"Yes, he did. I'm the only teacher here that he's told, however. He didn't even tell Professor McGonagall."
"He probably thought that you would be the most understanding," said Crescent, relaxing slightly. "That makes it all right, then."
A moment later, the rest of the class filed in, and Crescent's hackles rose when she saw that half the class was made up of Slytherins. She fought back the urge to growl, and sat down next to Harry.
As soon as everyone was seated, Professor Lupin stood up, and Crescent's nose was almost immediately assaulted by the stench of hatred radiating from most of the Slytherins.
"Good morning, everyone," said Professor Lupin pleasantly. "I understand that everyone learned about the Unforgivable Curses last year: the Imperious Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse. Performing any one of those three curses on someone can land you in Azkaban." He smiled grimly. "But those aren't the only illegal Dark curses that can land you in Azkaban. Can anyone name an illegal curse aside from those three that I just mentioned?"
Hermione's hand immediately shot up, and, to Crescent's immense distaste, so did Bartholomew Garrison's on the other side of the room.
"Yes, Mr. Garrison?" asked Professor Lupin.
"The Drowning Curse," said Bartholomew, sounding smug about his answer.
"Ah, yes," Professor Lupin replied, a grim look on his face, and Bartholomew put his hand down. "The Drowning Curse is particularly dangerous because it's used as an alternative to the Cruciatus Curse when a Dark witch or wizard tortures someone. When the Drowning Curse is placed on someone, it slowly fills their lungs with water, until they either drown, or the curse is lifted. What's another one?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air again, and Professor Lupin motioned for her to give her answer.
"The Freezing Curse," she replied promptly, and Professor Lupin nodded.
"When the Freezing Curse is placed upon a person, it can turn them into blocks of ice," he said. "Can anyone name another curse?"
Draco Malfoy's hand shot into the air this time, and Professor Lupin called on him.
"The Breathless Curse," he said.
"When placed upon someone, the Breathless Curse cuts off their oxygen, which causes them to choke to death while attempting to breathe." As one, the entire class flinched. "There's one other curse, but it's not one that is mentioned in a book," said Professor Lupin. "Twenty points to the House of whoever can name this particular curse."
The students all glanced at each other, confused. Even Hermione looked baffled.
"Hermione, I don't suppose you know what the curse is, do you?" Harry whispered. Hermione shook her head.
"I haven't the faintest clue," she whispered back. Ron looked stunned.
"Blimey," he muttered. "Even Hermione doesn't know the answer. It must be a really rare curse if it's not in a book."
Crescent ignored them. She was trying to remember something that her dad had told her about what had happened to one of his childhood friends.
**flashback**
"Daddy, who was your best friend when you were a cub?" ten year old Crescent asked as her father tucked her into bed.
Wolf smiled down at his daughter.
"My best friend was named Senna," he replied. "She was two years younger than me, and was half-human, half-wolf, just like me." Wolf's face clouded over. "But when I was ten, and she was eight, she got into an argument with a little boy whose family had just moved into a house in the town near where we lived. She won the argument, but the boy's family came and dragged her out of her house. They claimed that she had attacked their son, and then they burned her alive, from the inside out." Wolf stroked his chin for a few seconds. "I've never been able to figure out how they were able to do it just by pointing a stick at her."
**flashback**
Crescent closed her eyes for a moment. Suddenly, the answer appeared in her mind, and her eyes flew open.
Her hand shot into the air, and Professor Lupin glanced over at her in surprise.
"Do you know the name of the curse, Ms. Greyson?" he asked. Crescent swallowed hard.
"The Burning Curse," she whispered. The rest of the class all turned to stare at each other, whispering amongst themselves.
"And do you know what happens when the Burning Curse is placed upon someone?" Professor Lupin asked.
"It burns the person on the inside until they spontaneously combust," Crescent said, and the entire class flinched again.
"The Burning Curse is considered to be nearly equal to the Killing Curse," Professor Lupin said. Suddenly, the bell rang. "Class dismissed."
* * *
That evening in the Gryffindor common room, Crescent sat curled up in a chair, reading a book of fairy tales. Suddenly, Fred and George came up to her, and she saw that they were grinning. Crescent narrowed her eyes slightly, suddenly suspicious.
"All right, what prank did you two just pull?" she demanded. Fred pouted at her.
"Aw, how'd you guess that we just pulled a prank?" he asked.
"Because you both look like the proverbial cat that ate the canary," Crescent replied. She arched an eyebrow at the two of them. "I repeat: what prank did you two just pull?"
"We just paid a visit to the dungeons," said George, grinning.
"And?"
"We redecorated the Potions classroom," Fred said.
"After all, dark, gloomy colors are *so* passe," continued George, imitating a snooty interior decorator. "Patterns of red and gold is *much* more stylish."
Crescent snorted.
"I can't wait to see the look on Snape's face when he gets an eyeful of the Potions classroom," she said, laughing. Then she got up and left the common room, heading for the girls' bathroom down the hallway.
A few minutes later, Crescent left the bathroom, and began to head back to the Gryffindor common room. But before she got very far, she stopped in her tracks, and inhaled deeply through her nose. Someone was following her.
Crescent spun around, but didn't see anyone there. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Whoever was following her was still there; they were just hiding until she turned back around.
"All right, whoever's following me, I know that you're back there," she called. "You might as well come out of hiding and show yourself."
A moment later, Bartholomew Garrison stepped out of the shadows, a scowl on his face.
"How did you know I was there, mudblood?" he demanded. Crescent bristled slightly at being called a mudblood, and resisted the urge to attack him.
"I have excellant hearing," she informed him icily. "Why are you following me?"
"Because I know that you're sneaking around the castle," Bartholomew replied.
Crescent rolled her eyes.
"You're an idiot," she said disgustedly. "I had to go to the bathroom, and I am now heading back to the Gryffindor common room. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back to the book that I'm reading right now, which awaits me in the Gryffindor common room. Good night."
With that, she walked up the staircase towards the Gryffindor common room.
"Password?" asked the Fat Lady.
"Spidersilk," replied Crescent, and the portrait frame swung open. She walked into the Gryffindor common room, and curled up in the same chair as before.
* * *
The 3rd Kingdom...
Burly glared at his younger brother and sister.
"Have you found where the witch is yet?" he demanded. Blabberwort and Bluebell shook their heads.
"Naw, we haven't found her yet," Blabberwort replied. "But we're still looking. She and that wolf couldn't have gone very far."
"What if they're in the 4th kingdom right now?" asked Bluebell. He looked upset. "If the witch and the wolf---"
"Not to mention their halfbreed daughter," interrupted Burly.
"---Are in the 4th kingdom, then they'll be under guard. Not to mention there'll be a bunch of wolves flocking around that one wolf."
"Yeah," said Blabberwort. "Last I checked, he was still being hero- worshipped."
"Well, if they are in the 4th kingdom, then we should try to capture them," Burly said firmly. "After all, we still have to avenge Dad's death."
Suddenly, a troll ran into the throne room, and bowed low before the Troll King's children.
"Your majesties, I have information about the witch's daughter," he said.
"Well, spit it out already!" snapped Burly.
"She isn't living with her parents right now."
"That's it?" asked Blabberwort. She looked disgusted. "That's not useful information!"
"She's living at a school of witchcraft and wizardry, and is training to be a witch," the troll added.
Burly, Blabberwort, and Bluebell stared at each other in horror.
"If she becomes a witch, she could do to us what her mother did to Dad!" said Blabberwort fearfully.
"We have to stop her from becoming a witch," Bluebell said angrily. "An ordinary witch is bad enough, but a witch who's part wolf is worse!"
"We'll go to the school where she's training to be a witch, and destroy her!" said Burly firmly, pulling out his ax and holding it high in the air. "For Dad!"
Blabberwort and Bluebell pulled out their weapons, and did the same.
"For Dad!" they yelled at the same time.
to be continued...
* * *
A/N: Wow! This is the longest chapter yet! As always, please R&R, but no flames. Flamers will be pelted with dungbombs, and then they'll get their sorry arses kicked from here to the Bog of Eternal Stench.