ANZAC day.
Lest we forget.
A/N: Again, can't believe I'm doing this the day before an exam. Anyway, thanks for your reviews everyone (and I do mean everyone). Let me know what you think of this instalment… I would very much like to know. *enigmatic smile* Right. As exciting as my author's note invariably is, it's time to drag yourself away and read on… : )
Chapter 30.
Elena clenched her hands in Remus's shirt, pressing her face tightly against his chest. With each shallow, fearful breath she inhaled the scent of him, and in the midst of all the horror felt a small spurt of fierce, desperate joy that he was here, that she was in his embrace at last.
The cold green energy felt corrupt on her skin, and as it pervaded her lifeblood she grimaced, pressing close to Remus with more fervency than ever. Visions of her family's murder flooded her mind, and she was helpless to block them.
This is it, she thought, a little hysterically. This is what they felt, just before they died... I never wanted it to be like this. Even the times I wanted to die… Remus, I love you… it was never meant to be like this…
Just as the cold seemed poised to invade her heart, Elena felt a blast of heat flare to life in the very core of her being. The intensity of the sensation made her gasp. And then, miracle of miracles, she felt the ice receding, driven back by the stunning warmth.
She opened her eyes just in time to see the green energy condensing and rebounding, striking a horrified Skarns directly in the stomach. With a low grunt of surprise and pain, he doubled over, clutching his abdomen.
The entire sequence of events had taken mere seconds.
Elena could feel herself trembling slightly, and pressed tightly against Remus, she could feel that he was being affected in the same way. She felt him relax his hold on her a little, and she raised her head to stare into his face.
"Are you all right?" He asked softly, his voice emerging as a harsh whisper.
"No," she answered hoarsely, "I thought we were dead… Why didn't we die? What just happened?"
"A good question, Miss Greenstone," Voldemort's voice, tight with anger and edged with infuriated confusion, interrupted them. "A very good question. Skarns!"
At the sound of his name, Skarns managed to straighten up. "Yes… Master?" he groaned. The reflected spell had not killed him, but it clearly had not done him any good, either.
Voldemort raised his hand, palm vertical, to the wall on his left. The sword mounted there rattled ominously, then wrenched away from its mount, scabbard and all. Instead of gliding towards Voldemort, however, it swept across the room and struck Skarns hard across the chest and stomach. He grunted and grasped it automatically.
Voldemort's eyes were slits of cold fire. "Kill them," he said flatly. "I don't know what magic protects them, but we shall see how well it deflects a steel blade through the heart."
In a sharp movement that made him wince visibly, Skarns wrenched the old sword from its scabbard. It scraped free, rusty and blunted. He stared at it for a moment as though he was having trouble reasoning what to do next.
From where he was sitting, Voldemort gave a snort of disgust and muttered a few words. The sword in Skarn's hand flashed briefly. "Finish it, you contemptible fool!"
The blade now shone like polished silver, and even in the dim light its sharpened edge seemed to glint with malice.
Looking up, Skarn's dazed gaze fixed on Elena. He took an unsteady step forward.
Remus stepped determinedly in front of Elena, who had no time to protest before Voldemort's voice rang out, high with malicious pleasure.
"The werewolf first, Skarns." He grinned at Elena, his thin lips stretching over uneven yellow teeth. "Let Dumbledore's Heir see what happens to those who attempt to defy me. Let her see what her pitiful devotion to empty ideals has resulted in."
"No!" Elena began to struggle fiercely, trying to get in front of Remus.
"Elena…" Remus half-turned, battling to keep her twisting form as far from the advancing Death Eater as he could.
Skarns needed only a moment of distraction to close the gap between himself and the werewolf.
Bringing his sword arm low, he plunged the gleaming blade deeply into Remus Lupin's back. Remus froze, his sharp intake of breath hissing in his throat, and his spine arched inward. Before Skarns could pull back, however, a strange thing happened.
A small surge of green energy, a remnant of the dark magic still draining from Remus's system, sprang up from nowhere and rippled wickedly over his skin. It reached the sword embedded in his flesh, and travelled along it like a bolt of electricity. A bright green spark erupted at the point where Skarn's hand gripped the hilt, and with a low grunt of shock and pain, he crumpled to the ground.
He did not move again.
For a moment Elena stared in dull horror, unable to comprehend what had just taken place. Then Remus began to topple forwards, falling heavily against her.
Elena's eyes went wide with horrified understanding.
She supported him as best she could, lowering him awkwardly but gently to the ground.
He lay on his side, a shiny grey pallor overtaking his features. Shock alone held off the unspeakable anguish that was building somewhere inside. Crouching beside him, Elena reached out to grasp the sword's hilt, wanting to wrench the evil thing from his body.
But his hand fastened in her wrist with surprising strength, halting her. "No," he whispered. "It won't help."
For a moment, Elena could only stare at him.
In his direct grey gaze she read pain, and apology… and defeat. She realised he had given up. Realised that in a few moments, his eyes were going to close and never open again. And she would loose him.
She would loose him.
"No…" She wanted to scream the word, but her chest was too constricted to produce more than a choked whisper. "Remus, no…" Frantic and helpless, her hands wandered over his face and hair and shoulders, trying to coax him into a response, trying to hold him with her…
His chest expanded suddenly in a deep inhalation. He raised his hand slowly towards her face…
Then the breath was released and his hand dropped without quite brushing her skin.
His eyes closed.
Elena knelt beside him in silence. An eternity passed by. She could not move. She could not see. She could not feel.
Her eyes remained dry. She stared directly ahead, and did not blink.
Very, very slowly, moving like a brittle-boned old woman, Elena climbed to her feet. She turned. She faced the strange, shrivelled man in the disproportionately large armchair. She began to walk towards him.
Voldemort ginned cruelly as she approached. He knew the girl was unarmed. He toyed with the idea of letting her live, just to prolong her separation from her lover. Looking at her face, he suspected that death would be the kinder option for her now.
Elena came to a stop within an arm's length of Voldemort's armchair. Her expression didn't change as she raised one empty hand in front her, palm out.
Voldemort's face twisted mockingly, and he mimicked her action, only he held a wand lightly between his fingers.
Remus's wand.
Elena's anger erupted inside her, shattering the numbness and flooding her with red hot hate.
Externally, however, her expression did not changed and her hand did not tremble.
"He loved me," she said, her tone completely impassive, "He loved me. And he was killed saving my life. You know what that means, don't you?"
And Voldemort, terror of nations and Lord of Darkness, paled sharply beneath the yellowed parchment of his skin as her meaning struck home.
Striking out like a snake, Elena clenched her hand on his dry, scaly wrist.
Voldemort's slit-like red eyes bulged violently and he began to struggle as his skin ignited with white-hot light beneath Elena's grip. But she was merciless in her tenacity, and made no concession to the creature's obvious agony.
Even as she watched, his yellowish skin seemed to get grayer and duller, while hers grew brighter and began to glow.
Then, in a flash of green light, Voldemort was gone.
The armchair was empty.
And Elena was alone in the room.