The Fourth Unforgivable
Disclaimer: The characters and places present in this story were created by J.K. Rowling.
A/N: Huge thankyou to Gaia30 (Linz) who beta-ed/omega-ed this.
Harry found that, despite Voldemort's resurrection, lessons continued at their usual pace. In Herbology, the fifth-years studied Petal Poppers, which dispersed its seeds by explosion, making it useful as a replacement for fireworks. They covered the infiltration of the Muggle world by magical creatures in History of Magic, and deflected hexes in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry frequently found himself in front of the entire classroom with Professor Figg aiming hexes at him, armed only with his wand. However, as Ron pointed out after Harry's third duel with her, she was a welcome adversary compared to You-Know-Who.
After a particularly brutal Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson (which Harry walked out of with a limp), Harry, Ron and Hermione decided to visit Hagrid. The moment the three of them had reached Hagrid's cabin, Hagrid swung the door open and Fang came bounding out, barking loudly. The bushy haired figure beamed down at them. "You'll righ' you three?" He asked before shuffling to the side and saying, "Come in, come in." They sat down at a wooden table in front of the fire while Hagrid milled about making tea.
"Have a nice holiday, Hagrid?" asked Ron before taking a sip from one of Hagrid's large cups.
"Yeah. Me an' Olympe, we-" Hagrid stopped abruptly.
"What?" asked Harry.
"Well, I'm not meant ter tell yeh, am I?" Harry, who was suddenly reminded of the job Dumbledore had given Hagrid over the Summer, urged him to tell. But Hagrid remained silent on the subject. "Anyway, I s'pose yeh'll be wonderin' 'bout the play."
"We weren't going to ask, but now that you mention it…" Hermione started.
"Well, it weren't all me own work, but it were a nice change ter be able to write somethin' like tha'," Hagrid said, smiling slightly. "It were a team effort mostly, though the plot an' title were all of me own invention."
"I auditioned for it, and so did Ron," said Hermione happily.
"How 'bout you Harry?" Hagrid asked.
"He had Quidditch practice, but I'm sure there's a job on set he can do," Ron answered for him.
"Yeah, thanks Ron," Harry added. The four of them speculated about what different countries were doing for the festival for a while. Then, Fang rushed inside and Hagrid seemed to snap back to attention.
"Well, best be gettin' up. Yer brothers are comin' round teh help with the gardenin'," said Hagrid, nodding to Ron.
"What, Fred and George? What did they do?" Ron asked, surprised that Fred and George were already in detention.
"Nothin' that I know of. Jus' bin volunteerin' teh do odd jobs and tha' for the staff," Hagrid replied, picking up the empty cups and untouched rock cakes. This baffled even Harry who had no idea what the twins were planning.
About a week later, the results of the Quidditch tryouts were posted on the notice board. The Gryffindor team had had a difficult time choosing between Ginny and Seamus Finnegan. Angelina said that family ties would make for better teamwork, so Ginny was the best choice. The team agreed. George pointed out that he and Fred would be graduating at the end of the year, at which point Angelina told them to shut up. Ginny approached the Gryffindor table for breakfast the morning the announcement went up with a wide grin. Ron however looked distinctly glum under the concrete sky of the enchanted ceiling.
"What's wrong, Ron?" Harry asked while munching on some marmalade toast.
"Ask her," he replied, nodding towards Hermione. Harry raised his eyebrows at Hermione.
"He's just being silly because he was cast into the play," she explained. Then she turned to Ron. "You should be happy you were chosen!" Ron glared at her. "Well, if you didn't want to be cast, you shouldn't have tried out," she said, buttering some toast.
Ron nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. "What?" he sputtered, spraying liquid on Ginny. "'Shouldn't have tried out?' I didn't think they would actually pick me!" Some of the other Gryffindors were turning to watch.
"You might turn out to be a really good actor though," she said in an encouraging tone.
Ron frowned, "I was cast as Villager Number 3! It's hardly some amazing feat of acting!" Dean Thomas and Seamus snickered nearby, as Ginny fought down a smile. Harry, seeing his opportunity to break up the argument, asked, "What part did you get, Hermione?"
"She's a supporting actress," said Ron, with just a hint of bitterness. Hermione gallantly fought down a smug smile.
"Congratulations," Harry said, standing up and brushing the crumbs off his robe. "Come on, we've got Potions next." Ron and Hermione reluctantly stood and followed him down into the dungeons.
***
Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to arrive early at the classroom, and overheard Snape in a heated discussion with someone. Ron, in an imitation of Fred and George's black-mailing technique, peeked through a crack in the door, and strained to hear the conversation. He then told them, sounding disappointed, that Snape was just having trouble obtaining some ingredients from his supplier, whose ugly head floated in the fireplace. It was perhaps this which put Snape in a foul mood that day, taking eighteen house points from Gryffindor and giving thirteen to Slytherin. Neville narrowly avoided destroying his cauldron, trying to make the day's potion. "A spectacular display of what not to do," commented Snape. Harry was reminded fleetingly of the report Percy had been working on at the Ministry last summer. Maybe it was more important to monitor cauldron thickness than he'd thought.
Harry was stirring his Clarity Potion when he noticed the odd look on Hermione's face. She was staring fixedly at the ingredients on Snape's desk with a small smile. "What is it?" he asked, while adding some crushed scarab beetles to his potion. She shook her head and whispered, "I'll tell you later."
After dinner, Harry, Ron and Hermione returned to the common room. Harry waited until Hermione had finished her diligent Arithmancy note taking before reminding her about potions class. She smiled, a small gleam in her eye as she spoke.
"You know the ingredients Snape had on his desk? The ones that he used to demonstrate the potion for us?" Harry and Ron nodded, they had both seen the pile. "Well, they, er, correspond to the ingredients used in most love potions."
There was a heavy silence as Harry and Ron stared wide-eyed at her. "What would Snape need a love potion for?" Harry asked, incredulous.
Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Well, it's not like people are falling over themselves to get near him…" He trailed off at Harry's open-mouthed gape.
"Of course, the ingredients weren't for any specific potion. It could really be anything. It's just that goblin toenails, powdered unicorn horn and water-snake scales are usually used for love potions," Hermione said hurriedly. Her eyes darted back and forth between the boys. But Harry knew she was just nervous. Hermione was one of the smartest girls in their year, if not the whole school. She wouldn't have made an accusation like that unless she thought it was true. Ron furrowed his brow and started to smile a little. "Hermione, how do you know the common ingredients in a love potion?" he asked, eyes set on her face. She went slightly pink. Harry turned towards Hermione, curious.
"Er, some of the books I borrowed from the library mention them and it just stuck. It's not like I was ever going to use them…" Harry nodded, still trying to come up with a rational explanation.
"Maybe he's making it for You-Know-Who," Ron said suddenly.
"Yes, Ron, because the Dark Lord's next master plan is going to involve seducing his enemies," said Hermione sarcastically.
"Who knows what he could use it for? You said it yourself it…" he started.
Hermione sighed. "What do you think, Harry?" she asked. Harry pondered it for a few moments.
"Dumbledore's being more than a Headmaster this year. He's making plans. Maybe this love potion is part them," even if it is a bit random.
"Maybe he walked past Fleur and got a full blast of her charm, I mean, we know what the effects of that can be like," Ron said, remembering with a cringe the Yule Ball of the previous year.
"So, what do we do about it?" asked Hermione.
Harry shrugged. "What can we do?" The question hung in the air for a few moments. He thought about it, as did Ron and Hermione. I wouldn't put it past Snape's ability to make a love potion. Why would he want to though? It could be for Fleur…But if he had been charmed by her he wouldn't be able to think straight, let alone brew a love potion. No, there must be another reason. Maybe he's doing it for money, selling it on the black market or something. Just then an odd thought hit Harry. I'm sitting with my two closest friends, in silence, pondering Snape's love life. It was the kind of thought that made him want to both laugh and cry.
"We can work this out later," said Harry.
"What? You're saying we just sit around and wait for Snape to run about with a love potion?" Ron protested.
Hermione shot him a look. "Harry's not saying that, Ron. He's saying we deal with it later. Maybe a time when we don't have OWLs to worry about."
Ron rolled his eyes. He could tell Hermione was going to play the 'but-we-have-our-OWLs-this-year' card right up to the exams. Abruptly Hermione said, "Ron, we have to practise our lines, remember?"
Ron looked slightly confused. "I don't have any lines." Hermione sighed and dragged a reluctant looking Ron off to the other side of the common room. Harry pulled out a quill and inkpot from his bag. Right, let's get this Potions homework out of the way.
By the time Harry had finished his homework the light had drained from the sky and the common room had started to empty. He scanned the faces of some of the stragglers until his eyes came to rest on Ginny. Never did congratulate her for making the team. He walked to the solo figure. "Homework?" he said, sitting down next to her.
Ginny looked up from her copy of Witch Weekly. "Not quite," she mumbled, stuffing the magazine haphazardly into her bag.
"Oh. So, uh, what's it like being Gryffindor's new keeper?" Harry asked.
"Erm, great," she replied with a blush. She was on the verge of elaborating, when Harry noticed a kind of small sphere floating behind her shoulder. He held up a hand to stop her talking. Ginny turned around curiously. Harry couldn't tell what it was exactly as it hovered in shadow, but when Ginny jumped up and backed away, it followed her and revealed itself to be a horrible mess of red and white. For a moment Harry was lost for words. Then, it blinked. Harry took a jar of scarab beetles from his bag and in one swift movement trapped the eye. Later, Ginny told Harry what Fred and George's excuse was; they were just keeping an eye on her for Mrs Weasley.
***
The first Quidditch match of the season was held on the third Saturday of September. Though it was Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw, Angelina insisted the Gryffindor team attend. "Got to study the enemy's technique," she'd said. Not unusually, Harry found his attention focused on Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker. He reddened slightly, when Ron nudged him a half-hour into the match, sure that he was being obvious.
"I wasn't staring! I was…observing her technique-"
"Not that - look at Snape!" Ron hissed. Harry scanned the stands until he saw Snape quietly leaving the professors' box in the stands.
"Maybe he needs to go to the loo," Harry said with a shrug, quickly dismissing a rather foul mental picture, and glad Ron wasn't paying attention to his gaze at Cho.
"Look at Fleur." Harry again complied, and spotted her making her way down from the stand as well.
"Maybe she's off to the toilet, too. Honestly, Ron, it's probably just a coincidence…" Harry trailed off, leaning forward to try to see through the light drizzle. They were rather far from the ground, but Harry thought Snape looked determined.
"What should we-" began Hermione.
"What can we do?" Harry interrupted, anger slipping into his tone. "Follow them? Create a distraction? Kidnap Snape?" Both Hermione and Ron sat in stunned silence, Harry went back to watching the match. He sat there absently for two minutes, shifting uncomfortably in his seat before he turned round anxiously and announced, "Oh, alright! I give in. Let's go follow them. "
***
Remus sat in the squashy armchair next to the fire, leafing through a dusty book and sneezing regularly.
"And you're sure it's this village he's staying in?" Sirius asked, while turning one yellow page after another.
"Positive, we just have to find out what date…"
The two of them were looking through the complete history of the village of Ludbury, which was surprisingly complete for such a small place. ("Probably didn't have much in the way of entertainment. Passed the time by writing down what happened," remarked Sirius.). Half an hour passed in complete silence.
"Found any mention of Mundungus yet?" Asked an increasingly bored Sirius.
"No, but the blacksmith's discovered a dead rat in his workshop and the vicar's daughter has just got married," replied Remus, giving a summary of eight pages worth of scribbles. Sirius chuckled slightly. "What's so funny?"
"Well, according to this, a Mr. Remus Lupin has just been embraced by the locals as a hero," said Sirius, laughter growing.
Remus looked up from his book. "What?"
"The old bugger's used your name! I suppose it makes sense to use an alias, since he is meant to keep hidden, but I can't in Merlin's name see why he chose yours," Sirius said.
"Why are they calling him a hero?" Remus asked, wondering what Mundungus had got himself into.
"See for yourself," responded Sirius, passing the heavy tome to Remus.
**
Mundungus Fletcher was not an entirely honest man. It was something he accepted, and sometimes used to his advantage. He liked to think that he was at least a good man, and in the end, that was what mattered. So, he felt sick as he watched a child employed in the pub where he sat being beaten. His stomach churned, and he took a large sip of whiskey to keep the rising bile down. He was a time traveller. To act would be to change history, and possibly life as he knew it. When he had arrived, he'd had no idea of the amount of willpower it took to remain passive, ordinary, and generally boring. The temptation to become his own great-great-great-grandfather was overwhelming, but he persevered.
When the child was beaten again the next day, it was all he could do to keep his fist from connecting with the barman's jaw. The day after, the same thing happened. But two days after first witnessing this abuse, something in him snapped. He could not contain his anger any longer, watching the hypnotic and sickening rise and fall of the employer's stick hit bruised flesh. Even as his mind screamed at him that he would be altering the past, even though he knew it would blow his cover, he still could not stop himself from punching the barman (and was slightly surprised to note how strong he still was.)
After chaos subsided, several people started to take interest in Fletcher. Who was he? Where was he from and what was he doing in Ludbury? Mundungus was reluctant to talk about himself, he knew the impact small things could make to the future. At the same time the locals could not contain their curiosity. Never in the history of Ludbury had anything so interesting happened. Mundungus, finally giving in, plucked a name at random to begin his web of lies.
"My name is Remus Lupin."
***
Harry, Ron and Hermione had been pursuing Snape, who in turn had been trailing Fleur along the corridors of Hogwarts, for five minutes when Hermione stopped, causing Ron to walk straight into her.
"What are we doing?" she asked, an odd smile on her lips.
"We're following Snape," replied Ron, gesturing to Snape's disappearing shadow.
"But we don't even know why we're following him! We haven't got a plan, and he could turn around any second and take points for 'loitering' Not to mention that his suspicions would be roused when he sees Harry's not at the Quidditch match!"
"I'm sure we'll think of something, we always do…" Ron muttered while looking down the corridor. He made a small sound of disappointment. "Lost him."
"Maybe it's better this way, gives us time to think," Harry supplied.
Hermione nodded. Then she said, "We did jump to conclusions, maybe we should -"
But Hermione never got to finish her sentence, because at that moment Snape walked around the corner looking utterly vexed. Ron quickly pulled Harry and Hermione backwards, ducking into an empty classroom. Before hastily closing the door, Harry caught sight of Snape's hand. His long, thin fingers were curled around what was unmistakably a lock of Fleur's hair.
"He's got some of Fleur's hair," blurted Harry, as soon as the sound of Snape's footsteps had died down.
Ron shook his head in disbelief. "I don't believe it. I think I actually feel sorry for Snape. First the love potion, now this…" Ron continued to stare at the floor until Hermione prodded him out of his reverie.
"Snape can't be planning to use the love potion on Fleur, can he?" Harry asked, anxious to go back to thinking of Snape as a slimy git.
"Probably not. I think we've been wrong all along," said Hermione, as she stared out of the window.
"How? If anything, it proves he's completely obsessed with her!" Ron said, so loudly that Hermione had to shush him.
"Think about it. I saw him with love potion ingredients. Now he has Veela hair. What do love potions and Veela have in common?" Hermione waited, but there was only silence.
"They both make you feel things…that you're not supposed to feel," Ron said quietly.
"Exactly! They both hold control over feelings. I think Snape's working on a potion that does the same. Fleur's hair probably holds all kinds of magical properties." She gave a satisfied smile.
Ron, however, didn't seem entirely convinced this time. "Fleur isn't even full Veela! Surely whatever potion Snape's making needs proper Veela hair."
"But his suppliers don't have any. Remember him talking to them the other day in the classroom?" said Harry.
"Who do you think the potion is for?" Ron asked.
No one knew what to say. They were reluctant to delve into Snape's loyalties again, after being wrong so many times.
"Let's get out of this classroom, ok? I have a feeling the match is over," Harry said, straining his ears for the sounds of excited students. Hermione nodded and the three were soon making their way up to the common room. Harry and Ron joined the other Gryffindor boys in a rousing recap of the game, and Hermione went over her lines for the play. "Oh, Cuthbert, I love you!" she began. Later, she confessed her undying love to four other suitors. Harry tried not to laugh. In a sense, the "scarlet woman" had returned.
