A/N: Argh! What happened to the time? More importantly, what happened to *leisure* time? I have a 40% exam on Thursday on biochemical genetics (!!) and I really shouldn't be doing this now… but know I've already put it off too long. I hope you'll forgive the technical errors that are doubtless scattered throughout this chapter… but at least it's up, right? : ) Please review and make my hectic life that little bit brighter. ; ) See ya!
Chapter 29.
Remus ran his hands frantically over the smooth surface of an apparently bare wall. There was almost no light here, but his eyes were used to the dark so that scarcely hindered him.
Muffled by brick and mortar, he could hear voices in the next room. A harsh, high-pitched monologue, interspersed with a few soft low words of defiance. Though he could make out no words, he knew without a doubt whom each voice belonged to.
Voldemort… and Elena.
So at least he knew now that she lived, and that she seemed unhurt. So far.
If he could only break through this last ward!
He pulled out his wand and touched its tip to the blank wall. Blue light radiated out, rippling over the wall's surface and filling every tiny crack, searching out any hairline split that might trace the border of a concealed entrance.
On the other side of the wall, the harsh voice swelled in sudden anger. Remus felt an icy hand clutch at his heart. Don't push him, Elena. I'm so close, I'm nearly there! Just a few more minutes and I will be there, I will be with you. Don't you dare slip away from me now, not when I'm so …
A single harshly emphasised word was spoken.
Every joint in Remus's body twisted in sick horror as a hideous scream rent the air.
Elena!
The sheet of blue light that still covered the wall before him flashed red as emotion seared through him, and in an uncontrolled burst of magic the bricks blew apart.
Lumps of rock and plaster flew in all directions, and a cloud of gritty grey dust billowed out, filling the room. Very slowly, it began to drift to earth again, settling on a silent tableau of shock, surprise, and fury.
Voldemort was seated in the enormous armchair that had been turned to face the cleared room, his ravaged face incensed with anger. Skarns stood to his left, his jaw slack with horror and incredulity.
And Elena was lying stomach-down on the floor, her breath coming in soundless gasps. She had lifted her head and was staring at him in dumb disbelief with eyes still glazed by pain. Whether she had fallen in her agony after the application of the Cruciatus curse or been thrown to the ground in the explosion he had inadvertently caused, Remus did not know.
He only knew he had to get to her.
Oblivious to anyone else in the room, Remus started forward.
Stirred into response at last, Skarns stepped into his path. Terrified of the Dark Lord's reaction to such an interruption, he blustered furiously: "I don't know who the hell you are, sir, or how the hell you got in here… but I do know you just made a very big mistake."
Distracted by Elena, Remus almost missed it when the man reached for his wand. Luckily, his instincts still functioned efficiently enough to match the Death Eater's draw.
At such close range, they might easily have Cursed one another into oblivion, but that fate was averted by a single, sharply spoken word from the direction of the fireplace.
"Expelliramus."
Both wands were jerked from their grips, whisked across the room, and caught neatly in Voldemort's long, elegantly fingered hands.
"Gentlemen, please," he drawled in admonition. "There is a lady present. Show a little restraint." His tone sharpened. "I am especially disappointed in you, Skarns. I expected better."
Skarns gulped convulsively. "My apologies, Master."
"We do not even know our visitor's name! His purpose for being here is apparent," (his eyes flickered pointedly over the prostrate Elena) "But the means by which he discovered your lair and broke your wards is not. In this case, I think it is probably worthwhile to ask questions first, and kill later. Dead men can't talk, Skarns, and necromancy would involve a lot of unnecessary effort."
"Yes, Master," Skarns agreed humbly, with nauseating abjectness.
Voldemort turned his attention to Remus. "So," he demanded, "Your name?"
Remus eyed the repulsive creature warily, trying to subdue his racing pulse. "Jack Tibalt," he replied, pulling the name from thin air.
Voldemorts red-tinged eyes narrowed. "You lie," he said flatly. "And that is not wise."
Remus shrugged very slightly. "Remus Lupin, then." Lying again would be futile, he realized, and to goad the Dark Lord with secrecy over such a small matter would be foolish in the extreme.
To his surprise, Voldemort's face registered recognition. "Ah," he said knowingly, "I know that name. Dumbledore's pet werewolf. Interesting. Very interesting."
"Werewolf?" Skarns repeated fearfully, taking a step back.
Remus's path to Elena was left clear, and he immediately stepped forward, giving her his hand and pulling her to her feet. Trying not to be too obvious about it, he kept hold of her hand.
"You've heard of me?" Remus turned back to Voldemory, genuinely astonished. Even so, he could not waste time on such an irrelevant emotion. His kept his expression fixed as one of surprise and wary curiosity, but all the while his gaze was swiftly sweeping over the rubble-strewn room. He was searching for inspiration, something that might give both he and Elena a chance of escaping this nightmarish situation with their lives.
There were the bay windows to their left which he might be able to smash through given the chance… but they were a floor up and there was a considerable drop to the street below. The blasted wall behind them was an option, but the narrow hallway strewn with half-disabled wards would slow them down. And neither option would be possible until they had subdued or distracted their enemies. But Elena was weak and he was without his wand. The only other weapon to hand was a rusty looking sword, hanging on the wall to his right, above the moth-eaten couch.
Meanwhile, the Dark Lord's expression had turned smug and calculating. "Of course I know you," his lips thinned in what might have once been a smile, "I have spent these past months searching out all the Dark Creatures that are roaming without friends or purpose through a world that has cast them out. I have been offering them an alternative – a world in which they are no longer the hated outcasts, but the lords and masters of all those who once spurned them. A world in which they will be both great and powerful. All they need do is swear fealty to me, and serve in my army when the time for battle comes. I have been particularly impressed with the skills and … fervent enthusiasm of your werewolf brothers. In fact, I plan to include a regiment of them in my army. What do you say to that idea, Remus Lupin?"
Remus's forced himself to look at the Dark Lord, and hurriedly reviewed the mad oration he had only half been listening to. One phase suddenly leapt out at him. I plan to include a regiment of them …
"A … regiment?" He repeated warily. "A whole regiment? There are … that many of us?"
Voldemort waved an impatient hand. "Of course there are. You aren't exactly taking over, but werewolves are talented at personal concealment as I'm sure you yourself are well aware. There are more of you than you think. So, Lupin – will you join your brethen in the greatest army the wizarding world has ever seen?"
Shrugging off his bewilderment at the Dark Lord's bombshell, Remus managed to steel his face into an expression of cool blankness. The sword, he was thinking. The sword is going to be our only hope.
"I have met few of my own kind," he confessed aloud, trying to sound wistful and tempted. "I have always been alone. The idea of being part of such a great endeavour side by side with others like me does hold appeal, Lord." But as he spoke, his eyes flickered again to the sword on the wall. Betraying him.
Following the line of Remus's gaze, Voldemort gave a grunt of contempt, and suddenly seemed to lose his temper with the whole situation. "Do you really think to trick me? Do you think you can defeat me? You and the girl are each as foolish as the other!" He leaned back, red fire snapping in his eyes. "What good are you to me?" he hissed, "You are both tainted, tainted beyond recovery with Dumbledore's pitiful notions of watery nobility. You could have had glory. You could have had power. You could have at least have lived to see another day! But thanks to your pathetic ideologies you will have precisely none of these things. Such a waste. I can't even bring myself to look upon you a moment longer. Skarns?"
"Yes Master?"
"Kill them. Kill them both." The man's wand flew swiftly across the room, returning to his trembling grasp.
Skarns hesitated. "Yes Master," he whispered, and turned to face Elena and Remus.
Remus swallowed hard and stole a look at Elena, wondering what he should do next, knowing there was nothing he could do. Wondering if it really was possible that she loved him more than anything. For that was what Dumbledore had said – if the ward was to work, she had to love him more than anything else in the world. There was still a part of him that refused to accept that this could be true. And yet it was their only hope. His only hope. The only hope he would ever have…
"Hold on to me," he whispered to her. "No matter what else happens, don't let me go."
She looked at him, her eyes wide and uncomprehending. She knew nothing of Dumbledore's theory, or of the magical immunity she supposedly possessed for as long as she remained in contact with Remus.
Despite being unsure of his meaning, however, she was certain of her own.
"I will never let you go," she whispered, her voice rough. Her smaller hand was almost lost in his large palm, but her fingers tightened firmly around his.
Remus's breathing hitched strangely, and his gaze instantly sought her face. She met his stare directly, and something in his chest constricted fiercely. Without fear, without recrimination, and without reserve, she let her eyes speak the contents of her soul. Her bravery humbled him, and vulnerability bound him to her with irresistible forces he could not understand or explain. He only knew he needed her. He loved her. And she was his.
Uncaring of their perilous situation, and without a thought of their hostile audience, Remus reached out to her. Taking her head swiftly between his hands, he kissed Elena with all that was in his heart. If they were about to die, then she would die knowing what she meant to him.
The flash of green light in the corner of his vision made him wince, and an instant later he felt a powerful bolt of coldness strike with physical force. Their mouths jolted apart but Remus kept Elena tightly within the circle of his arms, shielding her as best he could with his body.
He felt icy green energy crackling over their embracing form, pervading his skin and sinking through his tissues towards his heart. He could feel its progress, could feel the cold onset of death as his blood vessels filled with the vile green magic.
So, they were going to die. Dumbledore had been mistaken after all. The magic was winning and they were going to die. Despairing but defiant, Remus tightened his embrace protectively around Elena's upper body, and closed his eyes.