Author's Note: This is it! The final two chapters, both posted together as a kind of 'sorry present' to those of you who have been forced to wait for much too long. I'm afraid I rather rudely went gallivanting off around Europe for a few months instead of sitting at home and finishing this story. It's OK – my priorities are back in order and the damn thing is finally finished! *cue cheers and whistles and applause* Anyway, I hope you like it, and I'll see you at the end…
Chapter 32.
The Beginning of the End.
Elena sat at a desk in the deserted Library, a single lamp burning in mid air above her work, enveloping her solitary form in a pool of glowing light. Her right hand still held a quill, lying loose and forgotten in her fingers. Her left hand was propping up her head as she gazed off into the shadowy darkness, her mind drifting freely. On the desk was a curious mixture of books and papers, and scribbled notes. The books bore titles like MediWizard Companion - the latest advances in medicinal potions, and Shifting Shapes: true accounts by Animagi wizards, from 1240 to the present. The papers appeared to be completed exams on the subject of Charming, still at various stages of being marked. The notes were a varied mass, with lots of crossing out and scribbled ideas and theories.
One read Beasts and Baddies of the Wizarding World, pg 887 – 'Werewolves do not attack other animals.' But R attacked me… perhaps to do with being another wolf? Territorial? Must make sure am recognised as one of his pack. How? Will the Wolf know me as me if it sees me again in wolf form?
Another said His Own Best Friend: Biography of a Werewolf, pg 29 – '…transformation painful is in the extreme, inevitably accompanied by violent convulsions and involuntary screams…only exception was an occasion upon which he accidentally fell and was knocked unconscious a few hours before the full moon rose. Still out cold when the time for transformation came upon him, the curse descended with unusual smoothness and a conspicuous absence of sound…' Remember that R. also transformed easily while unconscious, and painfully when awake. Seems to indicate that fighting against the transformation exacerbates the pain. If it were possible to reduce his resistance to changing man-to-wolf and wolf-to-man....
Elsewhere was scrawled Cast out Charm human mind to human mind - no resistance if forewarned of Charm. Change self to wolf. Invite R. to change too, across coercive mind-link. Soothe and calm across link. If I can get him to want to change, or at least not fight so hard, it will be less painful for him? Wolfsbane plus Charm should guarantee complete calm during curse's duration.
Finally, in rough black ink on the back of a page torn from a text book - If the Wolf can be taught to see me in my wolf form as part of his own pack, then it's possible that for the first time, both R and the Wolf will have a common desire in me. Perhaps this will help in some way to ease the battles they wage…?
This was how Elena had spent the interminable weeks since Remus had left Hogwarts – finding out all that she could about werewolves, Wolfsbane, transformations, and how her own talents might be used to ease the worst aspects of his curse. She had shown her work so far to McGonagall and Dumbledore, and accepted their criticisms attentively and their praise impatiently. Until the answers were all before her, she did not want to hear congratulations of any kind. She was so sure the answers could be found, and more sure of it every day. But here was still much still so to be done…. And of course, until Remus returned, she could prove nothing for certain.
Until Remus returned.
She released an inward sigh. He had been gone such a long time, or at least it seemed so. Three weeks and two days. Long enough, surely, for whatever it was he had gone off to do. He had told her he was seeking answers. She had a fair idea what that meant. It meant he was going to look for other werewolves, the werewolves of which Voldemort had spoken of as being so unexpectedly numerous. He was going to find out once and for all what his Curse really entailed.
There had been a time in their relationship when Elena would have despaired at such a separation. There had been a time when she would have believed, probably correctly, that once he tore himself away from Hogwarts Remus would manage to talk himself into accepting responsibility for all the wrongs in the world and never return to her. But such a prospect no longer had the power to torment her days and prolong her nights. Remus would come back. He would always come back to her. She would always come back to him.
They didn't even have a choice anymore - if they ever had. The spell that had protected them from death had quite literally bound their hearts and spirits together, using their united strength and strength of their feelings to repel the Dark Magic. The bond lasted still, and now it always would. All she had to do was wait, and hope. Because if Remus were to discover that his Curse was as hopelessly dangerous as he feared, both their lives would be more or less forfeit. They would be unable to live together, and incapable of living apart.
Shaking her head to be free of these unhelpful reflections, Elena dipped her quill in the red ink pot on her desk and began to mark another Charms paper. After a few moments she put her quill down and began to read the essay before her more closely. Her eyes flicked up to the name in the top corner - 'Hermione Granger'. Elena laughed softly and continued reading, deeply absorbed by the girl's impressive grasp of the craft, and extraordinary verbosity. How on earth had the girl found time to fill up twelve full scrolls with quality essay-writing during a forty-five minute examination? At the bottom of the final page Elena shook her head in pleased disbelief, picked up her quill once more, and inscribed a very careful 'A+' in the margin.
With that, she dropped the quill on the page and stretched her arms high above her head, relishing the click of one or two disused joints. The lamp hovering above her desk was burning low now, and the dark, empty hallways of the school were completely silent. Her isolated little pool of light and consciousness began to seem a little lonely. Or at least, brought to the surface the ever-present ache of loneliness that she had only ever been able to shake when Remus was beside her.
Remus. The thought of him bought a sad little smile to her lips. She missed him so fiercely that it seared her. She shut her eyes a moment to lose herself in thoughts of him. His eyes, his hands, his smile. She fantasised briefly that he was right there with her, coming up behind her, putting his strong arms around her waist, letting her lean back against his broad, warm chest…
When she opened her eyes again, the lamp had burned out, and the library was completely dark. She sighed softly and was about to create a guide light with her wand when she suddenly realised that she was not in the Muggle world any longer. No matter how low that lamp burned, it should not have gone out until someone gave the command. And she had given no command.
In less than a second, her body and mind went from a state of drowsy wistfulness to a state of full alert. She spun around, debating swiftly whether it would give her more of an advantage to relight the lamp and expose herself in a pool of light, or to remain in darkness and put herself and her assailant on even ground.
The shadowy outlines of towering bookshelves stretched away in every direction. There was no sound anywhere, and no hint of movement. Trying to calm her pounding heart, Elena raised her wand before her. "Who's there?" She called into the listening darkness, her voice stronger than she had expected.
For a few moments, silence was her only reply. Suddenly there was soft white glow in the air directly in front of her, and where there had been nothing but empty space only seconds before, a single white rose bloomed gloriously, glimmering and revolving in thin air. As Elena watched in dumb astonishment, its snowy petals flushed fiery orange, then royal purple, then a rich, dark red.
Slowly, scarcely daring to believe, Elena put out her hand. The rose immediately drifted towards her, coming to rest gently across her palm. Its thorns were incongruously long and sharp for such a beautiful flower, but Elena lifted the stem carefully, avoiding the worst of them. She inhaled hesitantly. The scent was strong and pleasing, but curiously bittersweet.
A happy sob in the back of her own throat caught her completely by surprise. She looked up. "Remus?" she called, her voice shaking much more now than it had when she had felt threatened. "Is that you?"
"Is there someone else," came a slow voice from the shadows, deep with undefinable emotion and mild amusement, "Who comes to you at night with roses?" And with that, a dim light materialised above and a tall figure stepped out of the darkness towards her.
"Remus!" Elena could barely speak his name as she dropped the flower and rushed forward, into his waiting embrace. His arms folded around her, solid and warm. He was really here. Here and holding her tightly, as though he would never let her go. She pressed her face into the front of his robes, then against his neck, then raised her face and felt his lips descend swiftly and fiercely to hers.
She couldn't say how long they kissed for. When his mouth was moving against hers and his strong hands were gliding over her waist and back and hair, time simply had no role to play. All she knew for certain was that it was wonderful.
When the kiss finally ended, they were still unwilling to break contact. Elena laid her head against his chest and stood contentedly in his embrace. For a long time neither one spoke a word. It was Elena who finally broke the silence.
"Are you back to stay?" She asked quietly.
It was a bigger question than it seemed. A world of sorrows or a world of joy would be contained in his answer.
For a few moments, Remus said nothing at all. Then he sighed. "You'd better sit down. There's a lot to be said."