Disclaimer: Characters and situations are property of JK Rowling. This is an unauthorized fanfiction. I am receiving no money for it.
A/N: Thanks to my reviewers! I love your comments! Now, as this odd little fic draws towards its end, everyone is in trouble, Lupin is the double-wanded man, Ginny is a goddess, Moody receives compensation for being made riddikulus, Draco finds himself in an embarrassing situation, and Voldemort's secret plans may or may not be fulfilled.
MORE THAN ONE LIFE
"We'll have to hunt them down. I'll call the Guild immediately and have them throw together a squad – "
"No! I mean, Mr. Minister, I believe that action is premature."
"Premature? Premature, Mr. Black? An inside agent of the Intelligence Agency runs off with a wanted Deatheater and you call a search party premature?"
"Search party, my...! You mean to send out the hit-wizards."
"I'm afraid I do, Mr. Black, and I have every justification to do so. Mr. Lupin has proven himself a traitor beyond doubt. He must be stopped, now."
"With all due respect, Remus Lupin is no traitor. Despite the circumstances, I am telling you that this isn't what it seems. Remus has a plan of some sort... a plan to save Ginny Weasley... something he thought too risky to tell anyone about."
"I find that highly unlikely. Mr. Lupin has a questionable history, as you well know. What about the Fletcher affair – when was it, a year ago? Lupin spirited a suspected traitor away from the Unspeakables. Now he's done it again, but this isn't just a suspect. We're talking about Draco Malfoy, THE Draco Malfoy here!"
"Allow me to point out that Remus was right about Fletcher. The man was innocent. MIA proved it."
"Are you telling me you think Malfoy is innocent, Mr. Black?"
"No... I mean... of course not, but that doesn't mean Remus is guilty!"
"I'm afraid I don't follow you."
"No? Allow me to simplify the situation for you, Mr. Minister! I think Remus is planning a rescue. Somehow he's using Malfoy to get to Ginny."
"Alone? Without backup? Without even telling anyone?"
"Well, Remus was a Gryffindor, you know..."
"I doubt this is a case of incredible bravery, Mr. Black. In fact, I find it much more likely that Malfoy is using Lupin to get back to his Deatheater chums. A werewolf is a Dark Creature, after all. He is more susceptible to temptation than humans..."
"You're implying that Remus isn't human?! Well, I... I... you listen here! Remus Lupin is more humane than most people I know! If he has a fault it's a soft heart. There isn't a man less likely to be a traitor in the wizarding world!"
"I'm aware of your friendship with Lupin, but this is just ridiculous! That... creature has finally shown himself for what he is – Dark. Countless innocents have died because of Draco Malfoy, and your friend Lupin has just made himself an accomplice to all that. He will be found – they both will be – and punished as they deserve."
"I won't stand here listening to you insult a man far better than you will ever be!"
"Mr. Black, you are out of line!"
"And you're a thick-headed, petty, biased fool!"
"Mr. Black! I will not tolerate this!... Security!"
"Hey, you... you can't! Get your hands off me! I won't be manhandled! Fudge! Don't do this! You're making a mistake!"
"No, Mr. Black, it's you who are mistaken here. So mistaken, in fact, that I don't believe you can continue to function effectively as an agent of the Ministry. I'm stripping you of your office. Agent Moody will take your place and take the appropriate measures to hunt down Malfoy and Lupin. I suggest you take some time off and get your priorities straight."
"Damn you!"
*******
Lupin fell to his knees on the gravely beach, biting back a yelp as the rocks dugs into his knees. He huddled in the greyness, sluggish waves nodding against his feet, as the familiar sights and smells and feelings of Azkaban assaulted him.
It wasn't a pretty place, the island of the Wizards' Prison. Long years of habitation by Dementors had sucked the vitality out of the land, leaving a cold rock that protruded starkly from the icy ocean. Stony beaches sloped out of the waves, rearing up to a crooked black plateau crowned with a fortress lightless as vacuum. It was empty now, but misery and despair clung to the place like a venomous green mist. As Lupin looked up at the former prison, shivers of horror crawled down his spine, stealing away warmth and hope until he felt like an icy, wrung-out rag. Every nerve in his body screamed at him to turn back, turn away, leave now before it was too late and he froze into but another unfeeling stone.
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to his feet, blinking owlishly into the dank mist. He could see like a cat – or a wolf – in the dark, but this fog baffled even him, choking the sharp senses he had come to rely on. The old prison loomed blackly some distance away, a hole in the greyness, but he could make out little else.
But wait... there was something else. Not a shape, more like a glow. A strange, sparkling golden light filtered through the thick fog, dancing down from the foot of the prison. Although he couldn't make out its source, Lupin was quite sure it was residue from the Amores Despiso spell that had drawn Draco here and, indirectly, drawn him as well.
Hardening his will, he glided almost soundlessly through the mist, stepping quickly on the uneven footing. He had to hurry, he knew, or it would all be over before he got there, but he couldn't help sweeping the ground searchingly with his eyes as he walked. If there was even a chance...
There! As if by coincidence, the thing he had been looking for materialized out of the mist. Before his feet lay a large rock, twisted into a shape unpleasantly reminiscent of a Dementor's claw. Feeling oddly dream-like, Lupin crouched down and heaved the stone out of the way. An hourglass lay beneath it, glimmering golden like buried treasure. A Time Turner, about as long as his hand. He picked it up carefully, noting the exquisite workmanship and the tiny dial at the base where one could set it to the appropriate date. It was strange, to think that after so many years the past had reared its head once again, and at the very same time a solution had presented itself. Today, perhaps, he could make good the mistakes he had made. He could go back to the very beginning and change everything...
Thrusting the Time Turner around his neck, he sprang back to his feet and began to run tirelessly through the fog, up towards the glowering fortress and the powdery light.
*******
"You have made a mistake."
The voice, so dreadfully familiar, forced its way into Draco's head. He squeezed his eyes shut even more tightly, refusing to look, refusing to believe that after all the doubts and the running and the fear he had come back here, to grovel at the feet of the Dark Lord and wish he were dead. Although, he admitted blearily to himself, that wish would probably be fulfilled sooner than he would like. Not that dying was the problem – he just didn't want to die like this, sprawled helplessly on the rocky ground, bound like a fish in a net of magic, a net that had caught not only him but that hated, red-haired child for whose sake he had been forced into this situation.
That hated, red-haired child to whom magic had called him, and who was speaking in his head at that very moment.
You're not Harry, she said in his mind, sounding more surprised than afraid.
Congratulations, Weasley, you've found the one bright spot in this whole situation, he hissed back despite himself. He could feel numb shock coming from her, invading his mind, violating his private misery.
What do you have to be miserable about? Ginny asked crossly.
I'm going to die, he snapped back, and so are you. Why shouldn't I be miserable?
You're one of them, she said, they won't kill you.
He laughed silently. They'll kill me. I ran away. I'm not the golden boy Deatheater anymore. We're both dead, Weasley, but at least I might get to watch you die before me.
Shut up, you git, she said stubbornly, I'm not going to die.
He wished he could roll his eyes mentally. Listening to Voldemort was better than this. It was only when Voldemort spoke again that he realized that wasn't true. The Dark Lord, however, wasn't addressing him.
"You have compromised my plans, Narcissa," the hissing voice said somewhere above and behind him.
"I... Lord, I... it was an accident. The strands were so close together... I summoned the wrong one..."
Narcissa. His mother. He had as good as known that she would be here, of course, but that did not stop his stomach from roiling in a brew of mixed emotions. He didn't want to see her. More than anyone else, more even than Voldemort, she filled him with fear and worse, uncertainty. Even now, confronting the Dark Lord's displeasure, her voice was cool and ruthless, sharp as a mid-winter icicle.
Why does she scare you? Ginny asked. Draco ignored her studiously.
"Accident? You lie, as always. Perhaps the temptation was too much for you... the desire to repossess your son. No matter. I have other servants who will not fail me as you have. They can easily take your place."
He could feel Ginny's fear and smiled inwardly with ruthless pleasure. Voldemort's threats, even when directed at someone else, were enough to make anyone tremble.
"No! Lord, you have no servant more loyal than I! I will not fail again... we still have time. The spell is still working. I will bring the Potter boy here! I wished only to please you, Lord! Now you will have both Potter and this traitor!"
Traitor? Ginny murmured wonderingly.
"Of course, you were thinking only of my welfare when you summoned your son. Touching, Narcissa, false as it is."
Draco could not help shuddering at the icy irony in Voldemort's tone. If he opened his eyes, he was sure he would see cracked frozen scales, dripping with slimy beads of poison. He stared, paralysed, at the blackness behind his eyelids, wishing he could close his ears as well.
I'm scared too, Ginny said weakly.
Shut up, he snapped, I'm not scared. He knew she didn't believe him. He couldn't lie to her, not like this.
"I think always of your welfare, Lord. My every action and thought is yours."
"Oh? We will see. After you bring Potter here, I will see to your son. Perhaps I will finish him myself... but I think I will leave that to you. It shouldn't bother you – the Malfoys are hardly famous for affectionate family relations. But I may find it amusing, if you kill him in an... original manner. Pray that I do, Narcissa. You do not wish to displease me, I am sure."
Oh no, Ginny whispered, oh, Harry.
It was somehow bitter, Draco thought, that even when he was threatened with a horrific death, no one at all bothered to mourn him.
You actually care? Ginny asked in surprise. He didn't answer, because at that moment his mother spoke, and he felt his stomach twist in anger and, strangely, a profound betrayal deeper than any he had ever known.
"No, Lord. I will do as you command, of course."
"Then finish the spell! Bring me Potter!"
After that, only silence reigned in Draco's ears, until the screams began.
*******
The wards hadn't detected him. For once, Lupin thanked the stars that he was a Dark Creature. It had finally come in handy, though that probably wouldn't save his life if he failed.
He peered cautiously around the black boulder, surveying the area from an easy crouch. It was a strange, misty tableau playing out before his eyes, a grotesque drama peopled by furtive actors miming blindly under insufficient illumination. The ground sloped up to the craggy prison, a forlorn road wandering up to the gates. Before the decrepit iron doors, a circle of wizards stood, facing grimly towards a lonely figure in its centre.
It was Ginny, he realized with a painful lump in his throat. Tied to a rough wooden chair, she languished in the circle like a sacrifice about to be offered. Black cords wound around her arms and legs like a giant spider's web, digging into white skin bared were her robes had ripped away. Her head lolled drunkenly to the side, red hair cascading limply over her face. Still, he could see her eyes, wide-open, staring raptly at nothing. Her expression was that of a woman who looks up to find a tidal wave crashing down on her. And, strangest of all, golden light surrounded her, radiating out as if she were a human sun, or a golden goddess with myriad arms. Black strands curled among the gold, but the latter colour was prevalent by far. The Deatheaters making up the circle might have been pagan worshippers and she a wild lady of a spirit world – had it not been for the wand each witch or wizard pointed firmly at the ground beneath her feet. Weak streams of light flowed from the wands, pooling in a black and gold spotlight under the chair.
Tearing his eyes away from Ginny, Lupin glanced around the circle. He recognized no one; deep cowls shadowed the Deatheaters' faces. Two figures, however, were unmistakable. They stood inside the circle, at the side closest to him: a slender, graceful woman and a tall, uncomfortably snake-like man wreathed in pure black. The first was doubtlessly Narcissa Malfoy. The second...
Voldemort.
Lupin repressed the fears that gibbered in the back of his mind and pricked his ears as the woman spoke, her voice calm despite the subservient nature of the words.
"No, Lord. I will do as you command, of course."
The tall figure seemed to loom over her even more, an air of tension hanging around it, as if it were a cobra about to strike. Its voice, when it spoke, sounded like dead leaves crackling in the wind, the laughter of thousands of murdered madmen.
"Then finish the spell! Bring me Potter!"
Narcissa bowed her head, and Lupin caught a glimpse of blonde hair within the cowl. Then she turned back to Ginny, rubbing her wand gently against her robe as if to clean it.
It was then that Lupin noticed the final player in the scene. A few feet before Narcissa, a crumpled figure lay slumped on the ground. He didn't need to see the telltale towhead and the pallid arms marred only by the death's head to know that it was Draco. The boy's eyes were closed; he looked like an experienced traveller on the road to death, bloodless, stringy, limp, exhausted. His limbs sprawled unnaturally around him, white shirt and grey pants making him look ashen and washed out on the black ground. And strangest of all, a thin black aura hovered around him, condensing to a narrow thread that led back to Ginny. The spell, connecting the two of them.
Narcissa stepped around her prone son without so much as a glance downward, making gracefully for Ginny, wand in hand. It was, Lupin decided suddenly, time to act.
He drew the extra wand out of his pocket and placed it end to end with his own. Bending his head, he whispered, "Auto pensidium mobilius!"
The wand glowed white briefly, then shot out of his hands, zooming with a vengeance toward the circle of Deatheaters. A burst of light shot out of it, hurtling with dizzying speed to strike one of the cowled figures. The Deatheater shrieked and stumbled out of the circle, dropping his wand. The others jerked out of their formation, following the attacking wand with their own, and total chaos broke out of its cage to rampage the island of Azkaban.
"An ambush!" someone shouted. Suddenly the fog seemed full of movement, as Deatheaters dashed after the flying wand. Only Voldemort and Narcissa remained motionless where they were. Lupin had hoped the distraction would affect them as well; but if not, he would just have to work around it.
Lupin was about to leap from his hiding place and dash to Ginny's side, when one of the random spells cast by the flying wand barrelled into the magic thread connecting the girl to Draco, and everything was blinded by a searing flash of light.
*******
At the first shriek, Draco snapped his eyes open unwillingly. Vague shapes moved in the fog around him, dissolving and reappearing like timid shadows. Before him the black cord stretched out to Ginny. He had a sudden urge to bite it, tear it into pieces, anything to get the girl out of his head.
I'm not exactly happy about this either, Ginny retorted, what's going on?
Before he could make any sort of reply, a flash of indistinct light zoomed across his field of vision. The sight of the flash connecting with the thread between him and Ginny barely registered before the mist turned to a molten golden-black and magic seared through his veins.
He screamed aloud, hardly hearing Ginny's voice echoing his own, and jerked up to a sitting position. The world swam before his eyes as he stared numbly down at his arms. Countless wavering threads curled around him, identical to the one that had connected him to Ginny. But, he realized without knowing quite what it meant, not all of them were black. In fact, the majority was golden.
He glanced blearily at Ginny. She sat stiff as a board on the chair, back arched, eyes huge and wide as she stared back at him. Her hair tumbled in matted tangles around her face, framing an expression as shocked as he knew his own must be. The web of light... the strands of magic that had radiated out from her before now reached for him like a hundred hands, winding around him and pulling at him mercilessly.
As he watched hazily, the magical cords that bound Ginny to the chair dropped away limply, rendered useless by the storm of magic raging around the two of them. The Amores Despiso web seemed to tighten, and suddenly they were both on their feet, rushing helplessly at each other.
Everything else seemed to melt away as they crashed into each other's arms. Draco was only aware of a storm of feelings, alternating hatred and love coming from some source outside of him, washing over him like wave after wave of pitiless sea. He dug his hands into her hair, painfully aware that he could not stop himself no matter how much he wanted to. She pressed herself against him angrily, their arms tangling, bodies trembling, lips meeting and fleeing without an ounce of control.
I hate you, Draco thought miserably, not sure if he was trying to kiss her or bite her, hug her or kill her.
No, you don't, she answered even more miserably, you love me.
Magic, he mumbled mentally, it's all magic. All Voldemort's work.
Doesn't matter, she said dully, it's all the same. I think... I think... I love you...
No, Gin – Weasley! he shouted only half-coherently, Damn you! Only magic! It's not real!
Doesn't matter, she repeated, I love you.
And, helpless, he found himself answering in a broken voice he hardly recognized as his own, I love you, love you, love you, love you...
*******
Lupin stumbled forward as the light began to fade, blinking rapidly. "Ginny!" he called, heedless of discovery. The Deatheaters were still there, he knew, in their broken circle, hidden by the shining mist. But for the moment they couldn't see him, and this moment might be all he would get.
"Ginny!" he called again, then after a moment added, "Draco!"
He stumbled over something. Looking down, he realized it was the chair Ginny had been tied to, empty now. He glanced around quickly. A shape seemed to thicken in the fog before him. He squinted, and when he realized what he was looking at his eyes flew open.
Draco and Ginny stood there, tangled in an embrace, staring at each other like sightless lovers who had been unblinded and now saw each other for the first time.
"Ginny...?" Lupin asked uncertainly, "Draco...?"
Both heads turned to look at him, and two pairs of eyes gazed at him with identically wild expressions. He could see the high flush on Draco's cheekbones, and Ginny's freckles standing out starkly against her pale face. Strands of hair, red and gold, tangled like bloodstained sunshine. It was only then that he realized that the light had faded, the magic had disappeared, and the grey fog was back, leeching the colour out of everything except the two young people frozen before him.
And not only that. Coldness washed over him suddenly, as if he had been doused with freezing water. He was vaguely aware of Ginny's gasp and Draco's sudden, fearful movement. He shivered reflexively, knowing what it meant. They were trapped on that grey, drab rock of misery, and the Dementors had come.
They materialized as if by magic, dark shapes becoming all too distinct. A new circle formed, enclosing him and Draco and Ginny. His sharp eyesight picked out the tattered shrouds, glimpses of slimy grey flesh like that of a long-drowned corpse. All his courage and determination seemed to seep out of him, leaving only hollow emptiness and cowering fear behind. He stood, frozen, his wand forgotten in his hand, and watched the Dementors approach, step by step by step...
"This, Narcissa, is most displeasing," a voice said, sending more chills down Lupin's spine. Behind Draco and Ginny, a too-tall figure loomed blackly out of the mist, a slender shadow at his side. Both stepped forward, becoming all too visible.
"Voldemort," Lupin whispered. The dread writhing in his stomach deepened, until he wondered how he managed to remain on his feet at all.
The Dark Lord's head, hidden by the deep cowl, turned towards him. His knees felt weak; it was like standing in a black spotlight on a summer day.
"Whoever you are," Voldemort said, "You have destroyed a very carefully laid plan. Since you know who I am, I'm sure you know what will happen to you now." The Dark Lord hissed something in a language Lupin didn't understand, and suddenly two Dementors glided forward out of the circle.
Lupin watched numbly as the creatures drew closer to him, dreadfully fascinated by the filthy, frayed material of their robes and deep blackness within their hoods. With each step he could feel a wet blanket of horror tightening around him, sapping away his strength. He felt small and cold. Somehow, it didn't seem worthwhile to fight any longer... nothing mattered, all was misery anyway and he was going to die, they were all going to die. Blackness gathered at the corners of his mind, voices whispering out of the night. Memories slithered out of their dark caves: sharp fangs and dank breath in his face, the moon falling on his writhing skin, a bloody corpse at his side...
Suddenly, a flame seemed to kindle in him, burning with painful life. No, he had come here on a mission. He would not fail; his hands were bloody enough without adding more deaths to the list. Anger flamed up in him, obscuring the fear. Rage sustained him; he clung to it, drawing strength from it. He would not be foiled, not today. He had found Ginny and Draco, and nothing was going to stop him now – not Dementors, not even Voldemort himself.
He dove into the wells of memory, deep, deep where the Dementors had not yet reached, and pulled up an image long left to gather dust. Sunshine penetrated through the fog in his mind, and a well-known face smiled at him. They were all there – James, Sirius, Lily, Chryseis, Mundungus, Arabella, even Peter... all there, smiling at him with perfect confidence.
Gripping the memory, Lupin raised his wand. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A storm of silver light burst out of the wand, hurtling towards the Dementors with a tremendous flapping of wings and bunching of muscles. A graceful griffin, apparently made of pure moonlight, flew like an arrow into the circle, severing the net of horror cast by the Dementors. The creatures shrieked and turned away, stumbled in their haste to escape.
Without so much as another glance at the Dementors, Lupin turned back to Voldemort, all fear forgotten.
"I am Remus Lupin," he said calmly, glaring defiantly at the Dark Lord, "And someday I will make you pay for all this. For the Potters, for Sirius and Mundungus, for the Longbottoms and even the Malfoys – I promise you, you will pay."
And before either Narcissa or Voldemort could so much as blink, he cast the Time Turner's golden chain around Ginny and Draco and flipped the hourglass once. The last thing he saw was the Dark Lord's hand lifting in angry surprise, before the world faded to grey around him.
*******
Some time later – although it was hard to count time when Time Turners were in question – Lupin, Draco, and Ginny sat silently in the forest somewhere in England. It was the same spot where Lupin and Draco had talked at sunrise that day. No one spoke now. Ginny and Draco sat in mute shock, eyes fixed on each other. A few feet away, Lupin examined the Time Turner carefully, oblivious to everything except the little golden hourglass.
He had never really considered it before. What could be done with a Time Turner... he had simply accepted the past, painful as it was. But now, somehow... he was an outlaw anyway, an exile from the wizarding world. Perhaps the Ministry would not hold him a traitor, since he had saved Ginny, but he doubted they would give him his job back. And she had been on his mind lately, since he had told Draco about her...
He could be careful, after all. He wasn't a fool – no one would see him. And she had died anyway, so it would make no difference in the flow of time. The only difference would be for her, and for him.
Lupin's hands closed decisively on the Time Turner and he stood up, glancing down at his two charges briefly.
"Ginny," he said quietly, "I will be back directly to see you home. Will you be alright without me for a moment?"
Ginny didn't answer, but he took her silence as an affirmative answer.
"Draco..." he said. The boy looked up at him, eyes bright and grey, somehow different than they had been. A current of understanding passed between them, and Lupin did not speak again. Instead, he pulled out his wand and, with a murmur, Apparated away.
The Shrieking Shack was much as he remembered it. The doors and windows tightly boarded and charmed... broken, dusty furniture strewn about... the air thick and grey, ancient if no longer haunted as it had been when he had spent his full moons there. Cobwebs crowded every corner, indistinct in the dim light. The air was heavy with silence. It had been long since the screams had sounded here.
Hoping profoundly that enough Wolfsbane remained in his blood to be potent, Lupin dialled the date into the Time Turner and flipped the hourglass before he could change his mind.
Today, he thought as greyness enveloped him, I save more than one life.
A/N: Well, what do you think? For some reason I'm bloody proud of this chapter. Voldemort's lines are kind of iffy and the Draco/Ginny stuff was rather cheesy and hurried, though. I chose a griffin as Lupin's Patronus mostly because griffins are my favourite mythical animal, but also because the half-bird, half-cat nature of a griffin seemed sort of parallel to Lupin's own duality. Somehow I couldn't picture him having a wolf Patronus... since the wolf is something he dreads and endures, not loves. Next (and last) chapter: Draco and Ginny decide what to do about their newfound relationship, Lupin finds his lost love and makes a very surprising discovery. More romance, ack...