Eeep! I can't believe that I forgot to put in a disclaimer for this chapter when I first posted it. Ok well, I claim only the things that I invented and if you have questions about whether or not something is mine as opposed to say…the property of JKR, then please feel free to ask me.
Gryffindor-300 Points- DND4Ever gets Ten Points for the shortest essay I have ever been forced to read and give marks on. Not that I am encouraging single syllable reviews mind you…but DND is held to a different standard than the rest of you. ;-) Frogfoot receives Ten Points for a long and detailed essay on symbolism and implication in literature
Slytherin-320 Points- blink-blink I was fairly sure that I had some reviews from my adder-tongued Slytherins (oh the little darlings!) but I can't find them…. if you reviewed and I didn't count you, tell me, or review this chapter and get some points for your House.
Ravenclaw-40 Points- if you reviewed and I didn't count you tell me, or review this chapter and get some points for your House.
Huffelpuff- 10 Points- if you reviewed and I didn't count you tell me, or review this chapter and get some points for your House.
Chapter 51:
Around three a.m. the whole group stood outside the BatCave, on the sidewalk.
The male addressed the female. "Take them back to the school. Get Lupin to bed, he needs to be able to make a good show at the Quidditch match tomorrow." She gave a sharp nod. "Tala," he fixed the She-Were with his eyes. "You will take the message that Fenny is keeping and hand deliver it to the person it is addressed to. You will not speak to them and you will wait only long enough to receive their reply, if there is one. Take Mescaline, he can guide you to the name."
It was obvious that Tala had taken the strange orders without question, but Lupin began to object anyway.
The male grabbed a fistful of the front of Lupin's shirt. "She's mine, Were." He spoke through gritted teeth, black lips pulled back in a snarl. "You want to change that, then you talk with me, but don't you dare challenge me over my claim." He shoved Lupin hard enough that even with his enhanced reflexes and sense of balance he stumbled backward two steps.
A sharp burst of mocking applause sounded from an alley across the street. "Nice show." Lo-Jack smirked as he emerged from the shadows. "I would love to stick around and find out how you resolve this, but I have business elsewhere."
"You're speaking to me, why?" The male eyed him threateningly. Subconsciously he was aware of the female moving to the fore right of the group, and of her efforts to subtly push them closer together in a more readily defensible arrangement.
Lo-Jack held up a key on a ring by way of an answer. The dull grey metal feebly reflected the club's front entrance light. "It's around at Fifth and Bloore, in front of the tattoo place." With a smile and an expert flick of his wrist Lo-Jack tossed the lone key to the male.
He snatched the key from the air just before it hit Lupin in the forehead.
Lo-Jack turned to go back down the alley, then snapped his fingers and looked back over his shoulder. "One question though." He didn't wait for the male to respond. "He's not coming after me for this is he? I really don't need a Half Giant on my tail for breaking into his storage vault."
"No." The male shook his head just enough to provide emphasis. "He's not going to come after you."
Lo-Jack offered one parting comment as he disappeared. "Were, some free advice…try asking him instead."
The male had turned back to his group, but pivoted to face the direction Lo-Jack's voice had come from.
Starch grabbed his shoulder. "Easy," he soothed. "The punk's gone."
The male didn't react.
Following his eyes Starch tried to see what had his friend so transfixed. For the unlife of him though he could see nothing. So far as he could tell, the blue eyes seemed locked on an old stone and brick building across the street currently being used as a series of cheap flats, to the right of the alley Lo-Jack had vanished into. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but the words died when he caught a glimpse of the female out of the corner of his eye. She was standing frozen, but ready to run, and staring apparently at the same piece of masonry.
The behaviour started to connect with one of the Phantom Memories he had from the male. Something to do with the facility— "Lupin! Stop her!" Starch shouted a bare instant before everything went mad.
The female ran for it. Without thinking Lupin responded to his order. Starch dug the fingers of his left had into the shoulder he already held and flung his right out to grab the male across the chest, as a fist slammed into his face. Instantly the world exploded into angry stars and black pain.
As soon as Remus had grabbed the female, with a flying tackle, she had gone limp. They tumbled to the pavement on the other side of the street and she did nothing to either break her fall or to escape once they were down. Remus landed awkwardly, on top of her for the most part, but his head struck the curb's edge.
Tala was half way across the street when Lupin recovered enough breath to gasp out a warning. "Stay back!" It had registered, through the throbbing in his head, that there was a fight going on. It took another moment for the sounds to become clear enough that Lupin could tell that he wasn't actually involved in it.
Starch couldn't tell what was going on except that, so long as the pain continued, it meant he hadn't let go of his friend. Yet. Something else broke, but he couldn't tell what. Everything hurt. Whatever it was it had sounded like a thick bone, judging by how loudly it had snapped. 'Possibly my femur…sometimes being a doctor is not helpful.' Starch thought with professional detachment. 'I must be in shock.'
It was dark. Dark and warm. And heavy. Slowly Starch became aware of a heartbeat, very close by, and a slow moist breath warmed the skin at his neck near his jaw.
He didn't bother opening his eyes. If there was any light in the room at all, it wasn't enough to filter through his eyelids. Gradually the weight resolved itself into a warm body against his side, one arm was across his chest and one leg was thrown over both of his.
'Cooler than Lenore, slower heart rate slower respiration rate. Taller than her too.' Starch lazily cataloged the details without really thinking about it. The person next to him shifted a little. He must have reacted, because the body beside him nuzzled behind his ear for a breath then pulled back again.
"You're awake. I should go."
The words were spoken so softly that they didn't hurt his ears. Turning his head so that his right cheek rested on the pillow, Starch slowly opened his eyes to find himself nose to nose with the male.
"I know it wasn't you," Starch whispered back.
"He will be waking soon, and you don't need any more energy…"
Starch carefully placed the palm of his left hand on the male's upturned cheek. Drawing in another breath, he tested his ribs a little. Everything felt fine, no pain but a little weak. "It was not you. You were supposed to kill me."
The darkly blue eyes became confused. "You believe I would kill you?"
Starch could not find words to frame his thoughts. He really didn't have any coherent enough to speak anyway. But he didn't need words with the male. Lenore's bent was a vague understanding of emotion with a focus on sub vocal communication, which is why he tried so hard to form clear words within his mind when linking with her. The male could receive pure emotion and unscramble his intentions.
The male closed his eyes, lazily, as he worked to interpret what he was being given.
'No, not lazy, he's exhausted.' Starch stroked the cheek below his palm and carefully raised hand again so that he could reach the male's hair. He became aware then of where the directionless light that he had been seeing with was actually coming from.
Dripping from his raised hand like transparent, opalescent flame, was raw Manna. As though it were a sheen of sweat, it coated the male's body and smeared the sheets and his own pale, lifeless skin.
"I guess it's not as easy for you to process as blood would have been." The male continued to speak softly, even as he pushed away and untangled himself from Starch. "I didn't think you would appreciate waking to blood-breath though. So considering the options left, feeding you straight energy was the least objectionable."
Starch watched the Manna collect in swollen drops on his fingertips and then reach some critical mass that caused them to fall. Impulsively he caught a drop on his tongue. It had the thrill of a virgin's blood, with none of the memories.
The male had shed several articles of clothing in order to provide more surface area for Starch to receive the Manna from. Gathering the scattered clothes into a pile he sat on the edge of the bed and sorted through straps and inside out shirts.
A little groggy Starch took more time getting himself upright than he was happy with. The dim light produced by the Manna was enough that he could see the tattoo like mark on the male's back that was actually the small Dragon like Para-morph that the Garom kept. While the male turned a shirt right side out, he traced one finger along the small lizard's arched neck. "She must love all this extra feeding," Starch murmured.
"She doesn't take more than she needs," the male replied. Quickly pulling on his undershirt, the male cut off Starch's view of the rare animal. "I have to go."
Starch managed to gain the edge of the bed before the male was done with the buckles on his boots. "Before you go, I want to know what those dreams were about. You said he was dreaming, dreaming about what?"
The male's hands stopped pushing one strap through its buckle. He dropped his head and took several breaths. "They are nightmares," he corrected. "Fire, wood burning, dark hared children and rooms where death is going to happen. They make no sense, as though something is missing from the sequence. But I am there at the end. Whatever happened it resulted in my emergence."
He watched as the male finished dressing and waited until he was nearly out the door before he spoke again. "What are you going to do?"
The male released a harsh breath. "I have to keep up an increasing percentage of his work load and the usual Advanced Potions Theory. I have Longbottom's private training lessons on the use of Unframed Magic, and the work I do with my division of the Order. I have to find time, somewhere, to take care of my side projects and for the fun of it…today I have to put everything on hold to watch a bleeding Quidditch match. Gryffindor versus Huffelpuff. Whichever one of them wins plays Slytherin next week."
"I need to speak with the Headmaster." Starch's breath stilled as he waited for a response. He knew it could either be interpreted as a convoluted rejection of his friend, or a cold request made with no regard for the male's feelings as to his Master's involvement in anything they did.
"I'll send him as soon as I can. He is waking now and I need to get back to his bed before I loose control."
The door was closed carefully, and a few minutes later Lenore carefully opened it again. "I wanted to make sure you were alright," she whispered. "She, the female, told me not to touch you…"
Starch tried to calm her real concerns first. "I'm fine now. He actually saved me, but I think I'd like some rest before I try to explain that. The Headmaster is coming down; I need to speak with him. Could you wake me when he gets here?" He suppressed the odd feeling of wanting to yawn. It was an entirely non-Vampire thing to do, even when tired.
Lying back on the Manna soaked sheets he struggled against his healing sleep a moment longer. "Lenore." He called her name and she responded by beginning to draw nearer. "No, stay back." He tried to motion her to stop, but his hand made only a wavering flutter in the air. "Trust me, Love, it looks pretty…but raw Manna, it's no good, for Human dominants…Unframed…Magic…" A softer darkness overtook him this time.
As he was pulling a light grey tee shirt over his head an absurdly obvious question occurred to Starch. "Lenore?"
Opening the bedchamber door he found Lenore sitting on a couch snuggled under a warm blanket with her feet pulled up under her. She was absorbed in the book she was reading, and the intensity of her concentration made him smile. "Lenore." He smiled broadly when she responded with a soft grunt.
"Huh."
"I'm left for dead and you start a new novel?" He laughed outright, which finally got her attention.
Eyes sparkling with instant tears of relief, Lenore jumped from the couch and had her arms around her husband's neck in an instant. "Starch. Oh, I knew you two would be trouble together, but I never want to see that again!"
"Easy, easy now," he stroked her hair. "Love, I'm fine. I'm alright, I'm safe." When she began supporting her own weight again he pulled back only enough to look into her eyes. "Lenore, Love, I'm sorry to have to ask, but were are we?"
"He said he wanted to keep you close by, to keep you safe." She laughed, a choked and over tense reaction, not real humour. "We got moved to what he said was the room he used during the summers. You still owe me an explanation of how on this blessed Earth what I saw, was him protecting you. And I know you're going to ask, no the Headmaster hasn't been down yet, but Fenny has and she said that he would be down shortly." She took a steadying breath and added, "Should I call her back, to take care of the sheets?"
He pressed a soft kiss against Lenore's lips and felt her relax further. "No, Manna tends to dissipate and get absorbed into the environment rather quickly, Love. It'll be gone in another hour or so. When Albus comes I would very much like to have you stay, we tend to clash more than a bit, and I need you to keep me reasonable." She sighed but accepted having to wait for her answers.
Starch gently released his wife. At her confused look he smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. "I do believe the Headmaster has just arrived."
Lenore opened the door with a mix of relief at finally being able to get her answers, and concern over the way the meeting would turn. "Headmaster," she smiled and welcomed the old Wizard without giving away any of her own concern. "Please, have a seat. Would you care for any tea? Or perhaps I could interest you in a coffee?"
Albus declined the offer and did not sit in any of the available chairs. "I was under the impression that, Doctor, Ignatius wished to speak with me on an urgent matter."
Starch and Lenore both heard the momentary hesitation in the Wizard's use of his title. "The inherent prejudices of your society no longer cause me the distress they once did." Starch spoke sharply as he stepped from the perimeter of the room. He hadn't been hiding or attempting to conceal himself, but standing very still and making no sound is natural for a Vampire. Walking forward and placing a loving hand on Lenore's arm, he checked her eyes before again addressing Dumbledore. "My wife though has yet to become inured to such crass behaviour from usually respectable persons."
The Headmaster's back had stiffened when Starch had made his initial statement. Even after everyone was seated he did not relax. "What is it you wished to speak with me about?"
Starch bristled at the command in the Headmaster's tone. Lenore's delicate touch was enough to bring him back down from an ego trip. Though a few slow and unnecessary breaths were still needed to calm him enough to answer in a reasonably helpful way. "He did something last night that has me greatly concerned. I was hoping you could tell me if you have noticed the same behaviour at other times."
Wariness coloured the Headmaster's words. "What precisely are you referring to? What sort of behaviour?"
He responded with a coldly detached and wholly Vampiric tone. "He was about to speak when he turned to stare at nothing but a blank wall. A few moments later he attacked me because I was trying to prevent his running somewhere. I believe he was being summoned by someone from the programme, perhaps with a charm or some sort of sub sonic or super sonic tone. Are you aware of any such mechanism being utilized in their training?"
"They both responded?" The Human's heart was beating erratically and his skin paled drastically.
Starch half lidded his eyes. Acknowledging to the Headmaster that he knew of the man's distress. "You know they did."
Albus dropped his head into his hands and scrubbed at his face. "He should have killed you…they are supposed to Glam, or eliminate any and all obstacles when responding to a summons."
"He would have killed some one else." Starch agreed softly. "He did not Glam, and I believe that is the reason Sev did not Glam. She recognized that he was not truly attempting to escape, and so neither did she."
"Sev?" Albus looked up at the use of the nickname.
With a small smile Starch nodded. "He has begun recognizing her as a separate being from Miss Moody." Allowing Dumbledore a brief respite to absorb that indicator of the male's progression Starch silently retrieved one of the pillowcases from his bed. Dropping it at Albus' feet he waited for the man's reaction.
"Raw Manna?" Albus carefully pulled his feet back from the edge of the faintly shimmering linen.
"He produced it to heal me, he wasn't really trying to get away, but he messed me up pretty fiercely nonetheless." Starch tried not to fidget as he stood looking down at the Headmaster. "Unicorns produce Manna in their blood, it crystallizes into the horn their kind are known for. Phoenixes produce a slightly lower grade Manna in the form of tears known for their healing properties. He practically sweated the stuff. I don't know how, but you managed to create something that actually produces Manna. Like other Manna producers I believe he may be immortal. A frightening prospect considering the fact that he will go insane when the graft you created breaks down completely."
"No," it was a broken attempt at denial. "Ignatius, you can't—"
"But I can," Lenore spoke softly. "I know that what he says it true. It's my job, not my field of expertise actually, but I do know a great deal about it." Soothing tones and non threatening movements made her words easier to hear. Lenore was very good at her job. "Like separating conjoined twins, this separation will devastate whoever survives. None of them are used to living independently none of them has acted without someone else being there. They've never even truly been alone in a room."
Lenore's eyes misted as she thought, for the first time, about what it must mean to Starch to watch it all happen. To allow the men who were responsible for the whole mess, to continue to be in charge, instead of taking control of it as he so easily could.
Starch swallowed hard and bit his own tongue to keep from blurting out a continuation of Lenore's speech.
"If," Albus hesitated for another breath. "If they knew, knew about the graft, before it actually broke down…would that be of any value?"
The bright blue eyes were pleading with Lenore and she responded with all the compassion she could. "I don't know. It would possibly give them a little time to grieve, but whether they are able to actually cope." She shrugged, gentling her words. "If their minds were charmed into becoming distracted when thoughts that would lead to knowledge of their situation occurred, but the memories were actually still intact, they should already know the truth. It would be like a sudden shift in awareness, but they would need support beyond what they have from you. The male especially. The female has had a framework of love and support, the male was left to his own devices." She spoke these last words in her most gentle and non-judgmental tone, the one she used when confronting abusers and enablers who were admitting their faults.
"I loved him…" Albus blinked a few times to clear his eyes. "I risked Azkaban for him…"
Lenore took his hand and squeezed it gently, supportively. A very clear thought passed through the Headmaster's mind at his own words. Lenore controlled her voice and physical reactions because it was her job to not become shocked by the things she saw in people's minds while giving them council. "Rather than face your failure to protect the family of your godson, you neglected your own son."
"There is a code, a phrase," Albus was weak with the realization of his failure. "We knew that removing the charms might be necessary at some point. A phrase was chosen for each of them, it would make him aware of his separateness, but nothing can be done to bring back memories of the facility. Those were taken completely and by experts more skilled in charms than I."
Carefully opening his eyes, the male raised his head just enough off the pillow to look around the room. Breakfast had been horrible, and distracting Snape long enough for Starch to have his little chat with the Headmaster had been difficult. Though physically weaker Snape was becoming harder to subtly manipulate with odd thoughts and random ideas. Eventually their mutual exhaustion had won out and Snape had gone back to bed after only a few hours of sculking in the halls waiting to catch unwary Gryffindors. The bedchamber was empty, as he had always found it, but the air felt differently. Moving slowly and thinking about nothing for the first several minutes, he gave Snape no reason to become restless. After so many years he knew how to function with minimal thought and no emotion until Snape was soundly asleep.
The male swept out of the dungeon as though his feet didn't actually need to make contact with the stone stairs. Clad in his usual black Victorian suit, open potion's robe, and the shutters that blocked all light from his sensitive eyes, he waited at the top of the stairs for the rest of his party.
"Black," he called as he fell in step beside the man. "Wouldn't be interested in making a ten Galleon wager on the game, would you?" Innocence was too hard to attempt, so he settled for a vaguely mocking expression. It would be more believable anyway.
"Don't know why you'd want to loose ten Galleons on something like Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, but sure I'll take your yellow." Black shrugged.
With a smirk the male glanced at Black, obviously enough that the man caught it. "That's blind House loyalty talking. What do you really feel?"
They stepped into the bright sunlight and cool breeze of the late autumn day and the male half smirked as Black blinked his eyes waiting for them to adjust.
Black looked at him for a moment, weighing his words. "With Harry and Ron on detention and out of play, even putting aside the fact that I favour them more than any other pair of players, I still don't see how two alternates with minimal playtime can possible hold two key positions and bring Gryffindor to victory."
"It's a bet then," the male flashed a rare half smile.
"Wait, what?!"
He shrugged. "You just said you didn't see how Gryffindor could possibly win, and since we were setting up a wager anyway, I took you up on it. Ten Galleons says Gryffindor will win today."
Lupin was moving toward the Gryffindor stands where Tala was holding places for the two of them and Sirius. Black moved to follow but the male reached out to stop him.
"Black, here give this to Tala," he fished a dull silvery key from a robe pocket and lightly tossed it to the curious man.
"Isn't this that key Lo-Jack gave you. Uh…" Black looked uncomfortably at the thin piece of metal for a moment. "What's it for?"
"Your bike," the male waited.
"My, bike?" Black's face contorted into a nearly humorous mix of thoughtful contemplation and absolute confusion.
"Tell Tala I want her to bring it back here." Black was about to object when the male silenced him with a sharp motion of one hand. "I don't want you leaving the school grounds, never mind why."
"Oh, right!" Black stopped himself. "You traded with Lo-Jack, to get me my bike…alright, I'll trust you. Not like I'm keen to walk to London anyway."
Remus insisted that Sirius sit with him, so they could talk about the game, and to start making up for having ditched him for so long. Tala sat on Black's other side causing him to nearly overload on attention as she kept asking questions about the game, and Remus brought up memories of the games they had played.
The male led the female to one of the more crowded sections of the stands. It didn't take long for him to loose interest in the game, seeing nothing but black shapes with silver outlines meant he could not tell one team from the other. Instead he focused on the female's reaction to being surrounded by so many people who were, for the most part, very excited.
"Relax," he whispered. The players were taking the field and the spectators were madly cheering for friends and favoured Houses. "Listen to me, I figured out how Black stayed sane…" The female was forcing herself to appear relaxed to the point that she was in danger of falling asleep or killing the next person to bump her, but his statement was odd enough to get her attention.
"In Azkaban?" Her voice betrayed a little of the tension she felt. Which was an entirely unacceptable tell.
"He let it go," the male whispered. Taking the pale hand that was actively not clutching the edge of the bench between them, he carefully smoothed his fingers over her palm. "You need to develop the ability to shut out all of this, white noise. You had to pay attention to it in Durmstrang, they were more reserved and kept their distance. I learned to shut out everything but what actual physical contact could convey."
"I can't feel anything coming from you," she murmured.
He watched as she relaxed by slow degrees, for real. "Just focus on the cool nothingness that you sense from me." Unconsciously pitching his voice to a nearly hypnotic purr he gave her a detached voice to focus on as well as the lack of emotion being emitted through his fingers on her palm. "Filter out their chatter and to keep your feelings to your self. This is how I was trained after I was brought here. Just a cool nothing, no emotion coming into you, no one invading your space with their feelings."
The two teams were being announced with each player getting a special side note on their particular strengths. The male broke off his sibilant purr to raise one eyebrow at Black as the substitute Gryffindor Seeker was introduced.
Karren Ashmont was noted as the girl who would have been their seeker and who was still the fastest Snitch catcher around. Harry might be more reliable, but if you wanted a fast catch to end the game before it had started, then Ashmont was the name you called.
The male smirked. As he had expected, the game was won within the first hour. When Black demanded how he knew he shrugged. "Potter's a better flyer, but against Ravenclaw speed is going to do more for you than sharp turns and complicated dives."
Ten measly Galleons richer, and having put Black down again, the male waited for the female to come out of the near trance she had gone into before leaving the stands.
"They're gone," she blinked. Used to being aware of the people around her she was momentarily disoriented by the absence of external emotional assault.
"And we should be too." He rose to his feet and waited for her to precede him to the school. "You did well, toward the end I wasn't receiving more than shadows of your emotions."
She smiled back at him over her shoulder.
When they reached the dungeon they headed for their Sitting Room.
"Severus, Severa," Starch called as they passed him in the dark hall. They stopped. "I have something you will have need of." He turned and headed deeper into the dungeons.
Passing through the Morlock tunnels for only a short distance Starch led them up the interior of a long abandoned well. They emerged in a small midnight-dark clearing in the Forbidden Forrest.
At the edge of the clearing were tethered two black horses. The animals had Adamantite plating on their limbs and angular heads. Jointed, overlapping plates covered their long necks.
The female silently approached one of the horses. It nipped at her and seemed to approve of the fact that she did not flinch back.
"You called us by names." The male made it a question to Starch.
Starch shrugged, "I traded Lo-Jack his freedom for them. And those are your names."
"But, you didn't own him." The male said, charm-distracted from the name issue.
"I did after LaCroix signed him over to me." Starch waved a hand through the air in a careless gesture. "That's past, now you've got to plan your action. That one's Zodiac," he pointed to the animal on the left. "This one is Equinox."
"They're part Theistral," Severa cooed as she rubbed Equinox's sharp muzzle.
"Theistral-Friesian hybrids actually," Starch provided with a smile.
"I was concerned we would not be able to make it far enough into their line to get to the Dark Lord," the male said, half to himself.
"Then you already know there will be a conflict…" Starch watched for every clue he could get, as to how much of this the male could understand through the charm barrers on his mind.
The male approached and held out his hand to be inspected by Zodiac. "We'll need to get them to the school, Sev." He watched as she took a fist full of the feather like mane at her mount's neck and sprang onto its back. To Starch he mused, "I'm not even sure who we will be fighting…but yes there will be a battle. Soon."
"It doesn't feel like a horse," the female commented brightly, while walking Equinox in a neat circle. "The movement is more smooth, not so much shift from one side to the other either." Placing her hands on the animal's shoulders she gathered her feet under herself and stood on the moving creature's back.
Starch couldn't help but notice that she held herself in a fighting stance as though ready to spring from the animal to an opponent at any moment.