A/N: This is dedicated to everyone. In appreciation of your patience.
*apologetic (but slightly evil) grin*
Chapter 25.
With a hand that trembled only slightly, Elena signed her name at the end of the completed letter. Scattered around her lay several crumpled pieces of parchment, testament to several false starts. Explaining her situation to Dumbledore had not been easy, but not until it was sealed and delivered would she allow herself the luxury of tears.
Getting hurriedly to her feet, she folded the parchment twice and sealed it with wax. She had intended to place the letter in her great-uncle's hand herself, but as she descended the stairs of the teacher's wing she beheld the chaos that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry between classes. Students criss-crossed the halls like hundreds of frantic ants in a burrow, talking and laughing and shouting to be heard over the cacophony.
Suddenly Elena felt desperately unequal to the task she had set herself. Surrendering to her cowardice, she reached out and tapped the shoulder of the student passing closest to her.
A lean, narrow-faced blonde boy of about fifteen whirled to face her.
"Excuse me, er - " she knew the boy had been in one of her classes, and she wracked her brain trying to think of his name. It did not surface.
The boy looked bored, almost contemptuous. "It's Mal - " He paused, looked at her pale face and the letter clenched in her hand, and seemed to reconsider. "Draco. My name's Draco. Are you all right, Miss Greenstone?"
Though she noticed his inexplicably abrupt transformation from insolent snot to concerned little gentleman, Elena cared little. "I'm quite all right, thank you. But this letter needs to be delivered to Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible." She held it out. "Would you take it? It's very important."
The boy's eyes brightened and he took the parchment eagerly. "Of course, Miss Greenstone," he agreed smoothly. "That's no trouble at all."
"Thank you." With that, Elena turned and climbed the stairs once more. The boy turned in the direction of Dumbledore's office. All that remained for her to do was wait for his reply. Despite her haste to be gone from Hogwarts, and all the pain she now associated with it, she knew she could not leave without seeing the man who had shown her kindness, and come to mean so much to her.
An hour passed, and then another. Elena paced, wept a little, and repacked her small trunk three times. The endless minutes dragged on.
Finally, an owl came sailing in through her open window, giving her a something of a fright as it swooped over her on silent wings. It dropped a letter in her lap, then circled away and left again without waiting for a reply.
As she unfolded the parchment, she discovered less of a letter and more of a note.
Dear Miss Greenstone, she read.
There are evidently some matters of considerable importance I believe we must discuss. If you find it convenient, please meet me at the gates of Hogwarts two o'clock this afternoon.
Warm regards, A.D.
The gates? How odd. But there were some pretty rose gardens flanking the driveway, she recalled. Perhaps he wanted to conduct this inevitably painful conversation in those gentle surroundings.
Elena checked the time. It was twenty minutes until two. The owl had delivered the letter just in time. Throwing a shawl around her shoulders, she snatched a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Frowning, she pinched at her pale cheeks to bring some colour into them. She wanted to appear as confident and firm as she could manage in this confrontation – there was no way she wanted Dumbledore to be witness to her pain.
Again, she left her room and began to descend the stairs, skipping down them two at a time in her haste. But a tall, lean figure in her path brought her up short.
With a short, strangled gasp, Elena gripped the banister and fell silent.
For a moment, neither of them could find anything to say. Then Remus spoke, his voice holding steady only with effort.
"Where are you going?"
It seemed such an ordinary, irrelevant thing to say when there was so much he ought to tell her, but no other words would come.
"I'm … going to meet Dumbledore," Elena replied coolly. It was surreal, this conversation. She couldn't believe her bad luck running into him like this, but nor could she believe they had stopped to hold this silly, bland conversation. The instinct to end it now and walk on without another word warred with the fierce desire to stand and stare for as long as she could, to drink in a last few precious moments of his company.
But the choice was, in the end, not hers to make.
Minerva McGonagal, stern-faced and distracted, chose that moment to begin her ascent of the stairs. Glancing up, she noticed Remus and Elena, apparently engaged in conversation. She smiled as she approached them, and greeted them cordially. Remus nodded in mute acknowledgment and Elena gave her a forced, wan smile.
Minerva paused in her step, suddenly sensing the tension between them.
"Oh, I am sorry," she said, a little stiffly, "I did not mean to interrupt you." She made to climb on past up the stairway.
"No, Professor McGonagal, you weren't interrupting anything," Elena assured her, placing her hand gently on Minerva's sleeve to stop her from moving on. "In fact, Professor Lupin and I were just concluding our conversation. I hope you will excuse me, but I must go, or I'll be late. Goodbye."
There it was, that word again. Goodbye. How often would he have to hear it? How many times would he be forced to fight the battle it cost him to let her go?
With a conscious effort, Remus controlled his desire to follow her departure with his gaze. He kept his eyes on the banister as he listened to her make her way down to the bottom of the stairs. Her footsteps faded away.
He glanced at Minerva, who was looking stern as usual, but also faintly bemused by what had just taken place.
"Professor Lupin…" she began, then seemed to change her mind. "Remus," she amended carefully, "I hope you don't mind me inquiring, but is there something the matter with Miss Greenstone? You both seemed rather … tense, a moment ago."
Remus held Minerva's gaze and decided there was nothing to be gained by telling half truths. In any case, the woman had once been his own house mistress, and he still harboured the superstitious suspicion that she would be able to tell if he was holding something back.
"Elena is leaving," he said shortly.
Minerva looked extremely taken aback. "What, now?" She asked incredulously.
Remus half shrugged, his casualness giving no indication of the true strength of his feelings. "Not right now. But very soon, I believe."
Minerva still seemed unable to comprehend what she was hearing. "But – but term's not over yet!"
Remus couldn't help a small smile at his colleague's clear demonstration of her priorities. "True," he agreed soberly, "But I suppose that doesn't matter much, on the scale of things."
Minerva's expression spoke eloquently of her doubt that there could be anything more important than completing a school term. "But who will take her classes? Who will set her exams? Where will… where is she going?"
"I don't know."
"I don't mean in the future, I mean now. Look." Minerva gestured to a high window down in the hall below, through which Elena could be clearly seen - a small figure in the distance, walking purposefully down the drive that led out to the Hogwarts main gates.
Remus frowned slightly. "That's odd," he said, sounding confused, "She told me she was going to see Dumbledore…"
"In the gardens? What an odd place for a staff meeting. I declare, the man gets more eccentric by the day."
She looked to Remus, and he smiled wanly. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, however, a kernel of unease took seed.
"You're quite right, Professor. He is an odd man indeed… Excuse me, please."
Without waiting for a response, Remus turned and began to make his way toward Dumbledore's office. He was not quite sure what he was doing. Dumbledore's office would be empty, of course. He had arranged to meet Elena, so he would be long gone. But just in case… Just to make sure…
Tersely, he gave the password. The door opened at once. Was that a bad sign? The uneasiness that had been growing within him expanded sharply. He hurried into the office, praying fervently that he would find it empty…
Dumbledore's silver-white head lifted in surprise as Remus strode in. He had barely shaped his lips to form a greeting when Remus demanded abruptly, "Where's Elena?"
The bemused smile that had briefly graced the older man's vanished abruptly. "What?"
"You've not arranged to meet her?" Remus's tone was urgent. Desperate.
Dumbledore was already getting to his feet. "Not recently, do I have reason to?"
Remus swore passionately under his breath, and turned on his heel.
Dumbledore had skirted his desk and was crossing the room with the speed of a much younger man, but Remus's long strides had already taken him halfway out the door.
"I think she's in trouble, Professor," he called over his shoulder, his voice tightened with both anger and fear, "She was heading for the gates. You'll have to catch me up. I have to go, now!"
He broke into a jog, and then a run.
How much time did he have? It had to be enough. Because if it wasn't…
No.
It had to be enough…
Chapter 25.
With a hand that trembled only slightly, Elena signed her name at the end of the completed letter. Scattered around her lay several crumpled pieces of parchment, testament to several false starts. Explaining her situation to Dumbledore had not been easy, but not until it was sealed and delivered would she allow herself the luxury of tears.
Getting hurriedly to her feet, she folded the parchment twice and sealed it with wax. She had intended to place the letter in her great-uncle's hand herself, but as she descended the stairs of the teacher's wing she beheld the chaos that was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry between classes. Students criss-crossed the halls like hundreds of frantic ants in a burrow, talking and laughing and shouting to be heard over the cacophony.
Suddenly Elena felt desperately unequal to the task she had set herself. Surrendering to her cowardice, she reached out and tapped the shoulder of the student passing closest to her.
A lean, narrow-faced blonde boy of about fifteen whirled to face her.
"Excuse me, er - " she knew the boy had been in one of her classes, and she wracked her brain trying to think of his name. It did not surface.
The boy looked bored, almost contemptuous. "It's Mal - " He paused, looked at her pale face and the letter clenched in her hand, and seemed to reconsider. "Draco. My name's Draco. Are you all right, Miss Greenstone?"
Though she noticed his inexplicably abrupt transformation from insolent snot to concerned little gentleman, Elena cared little. "I'm quite all right, thank you. But this letter needs to be delivered to Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible." She held it out. "Would you take it? It's very important."
The boy's eyes brightened and he took the parchment eagerly. "Of course, Miss Greenstone," he agreed smoothly. "That's no trouble at all."
"Thank you." With that, Elena turned and climbed the stairs once more. The boy turned in the direction of Dumbledore's office. All that remained for her to do was wait for his reply. Despite her haste to be gone from Hogwarts, and all the pain she now associated with it, she knew she could not leave without seeing the man who had shown her kindness, and come to mean so much to her.
An hour passed, and then another. Elena paced, wept a little, and repacked her small trunk three times. The endless minutes dragged on.
Finally, an owl came sailing in through her open window, giving her a something of a fright as it swooped over her on silent wings. It dropped a letter in her lap, then circled away and left again without waiting for a reply.
As she unfolded the parchment, she discovered less of a letter and more of a note.
Dear Miss Greenstone, she read.
There are evidently some matters of considerable importance I believe we must discuss. If you find it convenient, please meet me at the gates of Hogwarts two o'clock this afternoon.
Warm regards, A.D.
The gates? How odd. But there were some pretty rose gardens flanking the driveway, she recalled. Perhaps he wanted to conduct this inevitably painful conversation in those gentle surroundings.
Elena checked the time. It was twenty minutes until two. The owl had delivered the letter just in time. Throwing a shawl around her shoulders, she snatched a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Frowning, she pinched at her pale cheeks to bring some colour into them. She wanted to appear as confident and firm as she could manage in this confrontation – there was no way she wanted Dumbledore to be witness to her pain.
Again, she left her room and began to descend the stairs, skipping down them two at a time in her haste. But a tall, lean figure in her path brought her up short.
With a short, strangled gasp, Elena gripped the banister and fell silent.
For a moment, neither of them could find anything to say. Then Remus spoke, his voice holding steady only with effort.
"Where are you going?"
It seemed such an ordinary, irrelevant thing to say when there was so much he ought to tell her, but no other words would come.
"I'm … going to meet Dumbledore," Elena replied coolly. It was surreal, this conversation. She couldn't believe her bad luck running into him like this, but nor could she believe they had stopped to hold this silly, bland conversation. The instinct to end it now and walk on without another word warred with the fierce desire to stand and stare for as long as she could, to drink in a last few precious moments of his company.
But the choice was, in the end, not hers to make.
Minerva McGonagal, stern-faced and distracted, chose that moment to begin her ascent of the stairs. Glancing up, she noticed Remus and Elena, apparently engaged in conversation. She smiled as she approached them, and greeted them cordially. Remus nodded in mute acknowledgment and Elena gave her a forced, wan smile.
Minerva paused in her step, suddenly sensing the tension between them.
"Oh, I am sorry," she said, a little stiffly, "I did not mean to interrupt you." She made to climb on past up the stairway.
"No, Professor McGonagal, you weren't interrupting anything," Elena assured her, placing her hand gently on Minerva's sleeve to stop her from moving on. "In fact, Professor Lupin and I were just concluding our conversation. I hope you will excuse me, but I must go, or I'll be late. Goodbye."
There it was, that word again. Goodbye. How often would he have to hear it? How many times would he be forced to fight the battle it cost him to let her go?
With a conscious effort, Remus controlled his desire to follow her departure with his gaze. He kept his eyes on the banister as he listened to her make her way down to the bottom of the stairs. Her footsteps faded away.
He glanced at Minerva, who was looking stern as usual, but also faintly bemused by what had just taken place.
"Professor Lupin…" she began, then seemed to change her mind. "Remus," she amended carefully, "I hope you don't mind me inquiring, but is there something the matter with Miss Greenstone? You both seemed rather … tense, a moment ago."
Remus held Minerva's gaze and decided there was nothing to be gained by telling half truths. In any case, the woman had once been his own house mistress, and he still harboured the superstitious suspicion that she would be able to tell if he was holding something back.
"Elena is leaving," he said shortly.
Minerva looked extremely taken aback. "What, now?" She asked incredulously.
Remus half shrugged, his casualness giving no indication of the true strength of his feelings. "Not right now. But very soon, I believe."
Minerva still seemed unable to comprehend what she was hearing. "But – but term's not over yet!"
Remus couldn't help a small smile at his colleague's clear demonstration of her priorities. "True," he agreed soberly, "But I suppose that doesn't matter much, on the scale of things."
Minerva's expression spoke eloquently of her doubt that there could be anything more important than completing a school term. "But who will take her classes? Who will set her exams? Where will… where is she going?"
"I don't know."
"I don't mean in the future, I mean now. Look." Minerva gestured to a high window down in the hall below, through which Elena could be clearly seen - a small figure in the distance, walking purposefully down the drive that led out to the Hogwarts main gates.
Remus frowned slightly. "That's odd," he said, sounding confused, "She told me she was going to see Dumbledore…"
"In the gardens? What an odd place for a staff meeting. I declare, the man gets more eccentric by the day."
She looked to Remus, and he smiled wanly. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, however, a kernel of unease took seed.
"You're quite right, Professor. He is an odd man indeed… Excuse me, please."
Without waiting for a response, Remus turned and began to make his way toward Dumbledore's office. He was not quite sure what he was doing. Dumbledore's office would be empty, of course. He had arranged to meet Elena, so he would be long gone. But just in case… Just to make sure…
Tersely, he gave the password. The door opened at once. Was that a bad sign? The uneasiness that had been growing within him expanded sharply. He hurried into the office, praying fervently that he would find it empty…
Dumbledore's silver-white head lifted in surprise as Remus strode in. He had barely shaped his lips to form a greeting when Remus demanded abruptly, "Where's Elena?"
The bemused smile that had briefly graced the older man's vanished abruptly. "What?"
"You've not arranged to meet her?" Remus's tone was urgent. Desperate.
Dumbledore was already getting to his feet. "Not recently, do I have reason to?"
Remus swore passionately under his breath, and turned on his heel.
Dumbledore had skirted his desk and was crossing the room with the speed of a much younger man, but Remus's long strides had already taken him halfway out the door.
"I think she's in trouble, Professor," he called over his shoulder, his voice tightened with both anger and fear, "She was heading for the gates. You'll have to catch me up. I have to go, now!"
He broke into a jog, and then a run.
How much time did he have? It had to be enough. Because if it wasn't…
No.
It had to be enough…