Chapter 18
Five lumps were scattered about the room lying prone over plump pillows and under scarlet blankets and quilts. All save one was oblivious to the magical mayhem and mischief seeping into every stone, crack and fiber of the castle known as Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Neville Longbottom had been asleep, very soundly in fact. But some inner sense had dragged him away from his cozy rest and plunged him into cold wakefulness in an instant. He put on his wool robes over his nightclothes. He had only taken a few steps when he turned back and retrieved a new wool robe from his trunk. Quietly, he left the Gryffindor boys' dormitory with Trevor tucked in his pocket.
As he closed the door, he took a look back at the four lumps he was leaving behind envying them their night's sleep. The bludger-into-box tactical exercises had been exhausting. Ron had been merciless in repeating drill after drill. But, in truth, Neville had found it much more draining having to deliberately make mistakes like misaiming his spells or delaying a spell just enough to look like a missed hit. Hermione had been of no help whatsoever. Of course, she had had her hands full diverting Harry's increasing inquisitiveness. He had to agree with Professor Snape's assessment: Being yourself was hard but pretending to be someone pretending to be someone else was not conducive to good health or a sound psyche. Of course, the trick was learning to balance things while developing eyes in the back of your head and nerves of granite. In the common room, he saw Hermione Granger waiting for him. She was pacing back and forth in front of the cold hearth a thin satin robe thrown on over her nightclothes. Her hair, if possible, was bushier than usual. Her eyes mirrored his tired, bloodshot ones.
"About time, let's go." Hermione tossed her head and led the way out. Before slipping out the door, Neville wordlessly handed her his new robe. Hermione slipped it on with a grateful grin. "You're starting to read minds, too."
"Nothing magical about it. It's called anticipation." Neville whispered to her as they stepped through the portrait hole. "Thanks for waiting."
Hermione's next words came out in a mumbled rush. "I didn't have a choice. I forgot the password." At Neville's disbelieving look. "Well, you know I've had a lot on my mind lately. And all that stuff I had to say to Harry tonight to put him off and -"
"You didn't lie to him, Hermione." Neville interrupted.
"I didn't tell him the truth either. And even if I was free to tell Harry anything, how could I when I myself don't know what the truth is. Answer me that one. YOU have all the answers lately!" Lack of sleep and general crankiness allowed sarcasm to wend its way through her words. "I'm honored beyond anything, truly, but I wish I'd known more about it beforehand. Have I heard a peep from him about . about this situation all day? No! I thought he would at least have some consideration. I've been patiently waiting ALL day. I've heard from everyone else -YOUR grandmother. HIS own mother but from HIM!? Not a WORD. Obviously, I don't even rate a short, 2 sentence OWL POST! He goes and blithely does these mysterious things and no one ever questions him."
Neville wisely kept silent during Hermione's tirade. He was after all the only age mate she could discuss the Club or the Tradition with. If she wanted to talk about it, he had to let her. He stifled a yawn as they turned a corner. Fortunately, Hermione had the presence of mind to keep her voice low as they made their way to the Eyrie. "Now, look at this. Awoken from a sound sleep by . by a summons!"
"It's not like it's the Professor calling us, Hermione. He is not the cause of all our problems." Neville would have said more in defense of his absent mentor but Argus Filch came running past just then tailcoats flying with Mrs. Norris scampering after him.
The two Gryffindors looked at each other and broke out into a dead run. As they ran, Hermione continued. "Did you feel the same way, Neville? Like a fist had grabbed your heart and squeezed and . and you had to wake up no matter what."
They turned down the same corridor Filch had just come from. "Something is definitely not right. I feel like my whole body has turned into an icicle." Neville answered rubbing his hands together.
"Oooh! Where did this headache come from?" Hermione rubbed her temples in mid run.
Once around the corner and into the next corridor, they stopped in their tracks. In front of them, Professors Flitwick and Sprout were issuing rapid-fire orders to various ghosts, house elves and moving pictures all the while walking quickly and purposely down the hall. Now and again, a house elf or a house ghost would appear gesticulating to one or both of them. Ghosts appeared and reappeared.. Though Sprout and Flitwick were still in their nightclothes and slippers an aura of command and power radiated from both of them.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked as the two professors approached with their ghostly retinue in attendance.
"Something about Demos. On our way to the dungeons now." Flitwick absentmindedly said while he turned to give further instructions to a waiting house elf. "Inform the Headmaster that so far Hooch has not reported any perimeter activity. And after that find Pince. Tell her to meet me at the gates."
"Albus has issued out an alert to all house heads. The demarcation wards seem to be turning on and off on their own." Sprout added. She turned to the Friar and said. "Find Hagrid. Tell him we're assembling by the gates."
By now, Flitwick was giving instructions to Sir Nicholas. "Tell Hooch to continue her patrol on the perimeter but don't take any chances." The Gryffindor ghost didn't bother with the usual niceties and just disappeared to carry out his instruction.
Professor Sprout asked "Where are you two off?"
"The Eyrie, professor. The Eyrie wards, ah, um, gives off their own warning summonses." Neville explained clumsily.
"Are we under attack, Professor?" asked Hermione worriedly.
"If it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named I doubt he would miss any opportunity to let us know it was him doing all this. No, this is something completely different." Flitwick was abrupt and to the point. Despite his attire, the charms professor seemed alive and alert. His eyes were hard and shrewd. Hermione noticed that Flitwick had a bandoleer strapped around him. There were several short, stubby wands latched on to the bandoleer. His own wand was strapped to his forearm. "I hope it's not the Blessing. We're not ready for that to fail just yet."
The Friar reappeared and hovered by Professor Sprout. "Professor, Hagrid is unconscious."
"What!? Was he in the forest?" said an incredulous Sprout.
"No, no. He was one of the sitters tonight." The Friar wailed in answer wringing his hands as he did so. "I found them all unconscious down there - Hagrid, Professor Trelawney and Madam Pince. The Tree, oh, oh, it looks like it's shrinking!"
At hearing the Friar's horrible words, Professor Sprout ran off alternately cursing and praying. Her companion left her heading for the Sitters Room in a blur. She shouted "Filius, game change! Stall and delay!" Professor Flitwick's companion came out his body. He wrapped both his hands tightly around it. The tiny professor was lifted off his feet as he said. "You two go where you'll be of use! Go, go!"
Needing no further prompting, Neville and Hermione raced down the corridor. Flitwick zoomed off in the other direction as fast as his companion could go. The walls blurred by but he kept shouting non-stop instructions to the ghosts trailing him. "Friar, tell Albus, I'm joining Hooch on the outer perimeter then we'll regroup at the gates. Find Flavius! Tell him . make himself ready. I might need him! Grey Lady, tell Vector to take care of the eastern and southern wards! Hooch and I will take care of the north and west. Then go back to Sinistra. Tell her to go help Vector."
- * -
They made a strange sight positioned as they were around Severus Snape's large bed. The bed had been dragged hurriedly and without ceremony from its customary position by the wall to the center of the room. Other pieces of furniture had been moved to the side to accommodate this new arrangement. At the north point, Albus Dumbledore stood with one arm gripping the headboard. In his other hand, he held his wand high casting a blazing torch spell that bathed the dungeon quarters in near-blinding, incandescent glare. Professor McGonagall stood on the southern end her wand raised maintaining a levitation spell. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she fought fatigue to keep the heavy object within her spell balanced and unmoving. It was not an easy task. The object swayed sometimes slightly, sometimes violently to and fro, left and right, up and down. To her right, Nicholas Flamel scraped and tapped collecting various samples on parchment pieces or in glass vials. To her left, Mr. Ollivander helped Madam Pomfrey remove the soaking sheets and replace them with new blankets charmed to repel water. From the perambulating object above them fell boiling droplets of water that beaded and hissed upon meeting cloth or flesh. Occasionally, a house elf or ghost would pop in to deliver messages and receive instructions.
"What do you make of it, Nicholas?" asked Dumbledore. He nodded to Minerva as he added his own levitation spell to Minerva's. He handled the cumbersome weight while Minerva controlled the now violent pitching. Their two companions hovered around the object giving it an occasional nudge in the right direction. Whenever a companion touched the object electrical sparks ignited on contact. "Flavius, Poppy, hurry, please. Demos seems to be getting more agitated the longer he's levitated."
"Motion sickness belike. Severus didn't like being suspended either." Poppy commented dryly patting the last blanket into place. Pools of water formed here and there. Flamel and Poppy had both agreed that getting the object dry and secure was a top priority. "When will he get here?"
Nicholas Flamel carried a scrap of parchment to the bed stand. He set it down gently. On the scrap was a small pile of dry, brownish, uneven slivers. Using his smallest finger he sorted through the pile and separated the larger pieces into another pile. He took some smaller flakes between his fingers and ground them until they were dust. As he did so the flakes crackled and snapped like kindling wood. He inhaled slowly and carefully. A faint, earthy muskiness clung to his nostrils. The dust had the texture of soil yet its odor had the tang of iron and copper. He had tried a flame test earlier. He found the substance resistant to flame and burning in general.
"Patience, I pray for patience. I cannot make something of nothing, Albus, at least, not yet." Flamel stirred some flakes into a clear solution shaking the vial in a clockwise motion. The mixture turned red then settled into a viscous dark brown semi liquid with a tint of red. "It's growth and spread pattern I find analogous to fungal growth or lichen but with the density and hardness of metal. This combination is unsettling and disconcerting at best. What it is I could not begin to guess."
In the doorway standing by a bedraggled Argus Filch was Severus Snape breathing heavily from the frantic run from his own hospital bed. He clutched his robes more tightly around him but the chill had already seeped into his bones. His blood pressure was fantastically high. Every vein in his forehead and neck throbbed painfully. As he stood there leaning on the doorframe for support, he knew the Eyrie wards were being breached. His duty lay, must lie, in the Library. But once he had emerged from the shielded walls of the Counsel Room at Filch's heels, he had become aware of Demos once again. He would not ignore Demos' stark terror and pleas for help, duty or not. Snape summoned a house elf and left instructions for Neville.
- * -
As they had got closer and closer to the North Tower, Hermione and Neville's discomforting headaches and chills became more debilitating. More than once they had to pause and brace themselves before continuing on. As they entered the Eyrie shivering and rubbing their foreheads, they saw Professor Vector standing by the windows, hands raised and launching spell after spell. Energy crackled and lanced in sharp arcs around his form. He saw them come in and yelled at Neville. "It's all I can do to keep the outer ward perimeters up! You have to take care of the library, Neville! Snape's left instruction with that elf there!"
The elf delivered its message. Neville told the elf to return and tell the professor "Instructions received. Hermione's with me." Neville strode to his desk and took out a gnarled wand from one of the drawers. Hermione ran to the library. She cast a quick ward reveal spell and saw that the normally white and blue ward was pulsing an angry red. Red meant it was fighting against something - something that was trying to get through.
"Neville, what's strong enough to get - ?!" Hermione began.
"Doesn't matter! We're going to move it. Have to move it." Neville thumbed quickly through his dog-eared booklet.
"Move it?! Where? Can you even - ?"
"Together we have the power. We're going to take it back to the last place where it was safe." Neville rummaged around his desk reading through several parchments. "Here's the incantation. Start memorizing. We start in five minutes."
Hermione grabbed the parchment and blanched. She had good reason. Reproduced on the parchment was a complex series of incantations and spells in old High Latin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Neville open one of the armoires and take out a long, dark staff with muted silvery engravings in the middle. Professor Sinistra ran in and stood by Vector. She started joining her spells to his. Hermione forced her attention back to the parchment. They had five minutes.
At a final nod from Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore and McGonagall slowly lowered Demos' encrusted form back on to the bed. All their eyes followed the pod's downward progress. Demos' form was sealed inside a hard, egg shaped shell or husk covered tip to tip by brown scales with a vein-like pattern of leaves. Snape walked closer as the pod settled on to the bed. The bed frame creaked at the weight. Water cascaded over the sides splashing down to the stone floor. The pod rocked left and right as if something was rolling inside. Professor Sprout came in and motioned to the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. Sprout kept glancing at the pod and shaking her head. After a few minutes of hushed conversation, Professor McGonagall opened her partner bond completely and sent Ollivander a message - volunteer to partner. Ollivander stopped talking with the Friar immediately and turned to make eye contact with Professor McGonagall. The headmaster and the headmistress departed after the extremely agitated Professor Sprout. Mr. Ollivander pulled Flamel off to the side.
Snape ran a hand lightly over the rough surface. Though damp, Demos' cocoon was not slimy to the touch. The scaly exterior was tough and rubbery. "Demos, Demos, can you hear me?!" Snape asked. "Demos, answer me! Stop moving and listen. I'm right here. Everything will be all right. Let me help you."
The cocoon stopped moving. Snape continued. "If you can hear me, move." The husk rocked sideways and then stopped. Snape let out his breath in relief. "All right, good. If you are in pain, move." The cocoon remained still. "Is your movement limited." The cocoon moved once. "Can you phase your body?" There was no movement. The questions and the answers went on for a while. Demos remembered feeling very tired and achy the other night. He had fallen asleep. The next thing he was aware of was waking up inside the "cocoon" unable to see nor hear anything nor utter a syllable. He soon discovered that he had very limited movement inside. He was laid out flat on his back. His back and legs felt attached to something. He had sharp pains in his stomach and head now and again. He had tried to wait patiently in the darkness but began to panic when he heard no one or anything. Then he had heard Poppy tapping on the outside calling his name. Soon he heard the others but he could not speak to them. He had rocked and rocked the pod with all his strength to make sure that they knew he was still inside. He wanted to get out and soon. He didn't like being inside. When would Severus get him out?
"Demos, listen to me. I will get you out even if I have to cut through this . this shell with my bare hands." Snape said his voice whisper soft and rough with emotion. Snape sat on the bed one hand on the cocoon. Snape still had some fledgling sense of what Demos was feeling. The sense of the other was not as strong as it had once been between them but there were still vestiges of sensation. At the moment, the uppermost emotions Snape could sense were Demos' anxiety and fear. Snape tried to project soothing calm in his thoughts while mastering his own fears and doubts. He schooled his voice to his best potions master's tone hoping that the sharp tone would replace Demos' fears with calm and confidence. "You will get out, Demos. Have no doubts on that. We must study this and find the best way to get you out without harming you. For now, I want you to rest. You must rest now."
Demos began to rock hard. Snape added less stern but still firm. "You won't be forgotten or alone. I promise you." The cocoon rocked again. "I'll be here. If I'm not here then there will be others." The man-sized pod began to rock so violently that one end began to slide off the bed. Snape, Ollivander and Filch held on keeping the pod in the middle of the bed. "Demos, I cannot stay here for very long. I must return to the Counsel room's isolation ward." The rocking grew more insistent. Snape's attempts at reason had failed and he knew it. He and Filch pushed and rolled the pod until it was in the center of the bed again.
As Mr. Ollivander left the room, Poppy saw the helpless distress on Snape's stricken countenance. As she herself laid a hand on the pod her thoughts turned to recent memories. Some time ago, she had watched as Demos had come into existence during Severus' first disastrous summoning. For a moment, thinking Severus' life endangered, she had had a chance to destroy him. But fate had stayed her hand from that mistake. Of that, she was more than glad. This child, for he was very like a child in his winsome heart and earnest soul, had gifted them with far more than they had returned or expected. Now, this child needed them. She implored softly letting her voice express her affection for this most unexpected of creatures. "Demos, please, please stop. We will not let you stay here by yourself. We know you're scared. One of us will always be here. You will never be alone asleep or awake. Please, please stop before you hurt yourself." Her warmth and affection won out. Demos stopped rocking. "Do you want to choose the ones you want to be with you?" The pod rocked once. "All right after every name I mention rock once for yes." Pomfrey listed out all the names of everyone in the Club. After Demos had made his choices, Snape indicated that he would go first and stay until dawn and then Madam Pomfrey would relieve him. The others would take their turns later.
The Bloody Baron appeared with an urgent summons from Dumbledore for Pomfrey and Flamel to join him in the Sitters Room. Snape moved to join them but Poppy stopped him with an adamant wave. "No, stay here. You can barely stand as it is."
Nicholas ran a trained eye on the gaunt potions master. His inner sight told him all he needed to know. Snape was under a great deal of physical pain. In his mind's eye, Snape's aura was vibrantly blood red especially around the head and chest. "She's right, Severus. We'll call you if we need you. Stay here. Try to rest." Snape was forced to acquiesce to the note of rigid, unequivocal authority in old alchemist's gently worded command.
Back in the Eyrie, Hermione stood ready. She grasped one end of the wand staff while Neville held the other. They were the only ones standing in the room. Both professors were on their knees as they strove to augment the faltering Hogwarts wards. They continued to send spells out drawing on all the energy their companions could provide. The maelstrom of energy around them grew so blindingly intense that only their outlines were discernible as dark shapes against a backdrop of shifting colors. . No matter how much they re-energized the wards, the energy would begin to dissipate again after a few minutes forcing them to add more and more magical energy. Neville and Hermione shut out whatever else was happening around them and began to chant in unison.
As the last syllable was uttered, the two Gryffindors gripped the staff hard with both hands. Around them the sound of whistling air grew louder. The wand staff began to vibrate and hum. The air became a physical manifestation blowing so harshly against them that they were lifted off their feet. Tears streamed down their faces as they kept eye contact throughout not bothering to blink or look away for a moment. The wand staff began to turn clockwise. As the rotation grew faster and faster, Hermione and Neville found themselves suspended in the air parallel to the wand. Wherever they were going, they were going to get there fast.
Professor McGonagall split off from Dumbledore midway to the Tree of Blessing's dungeon rooms. Professor Sprout had been quite detailed in her analysis of the problem with the Tree of Blessings. Sprout and Dumbledore were making some adjustments and their solution would be implemented sometime in the next two hours. She had left Sprout and Dumbledore in the Sitters Room to coordinate the others. Sir Nicholas hovered by her side taking her multiple missives. "Where are Flitwick and Hooch now? Mark and time?"
"At the gates. They did not look well." Said Sir Nicholas. "Mark is 3 hours and 10 minutes since first action. Time is 3am exactly."
"Tell them to hold on. Flavius and I are on the way there to relieve them." The headmistress walked briskly into the Main Hall. "Has the Ministry gotten notice yet? Vector and Sinistra?"
"No, professor. We have been able to maintain the ward levels above the point where the Ministry is automatically notified. They should not have any indications that there is anything amiss here. East and south wards are at less than normal levels but holding steady."
"Good. We must keep it that way." McGonagall muttered. "We don't need any more Ministry inquiries. Where are Neville and Hermione?"
A picture of a young lady in Renaissance garb answered. "Last report they were both safe in the North Tower, professor."
"Sir Nicholas, tell Vector and Sinistra to hold on for another hour or so." Sir Nicholas disappeared. McGonagall continued to get her update. "House students?"
"In their dormitories and all accounted for." Answered the same portrait.
"At least some things are going correctly." Professor McGonagall. "Has Poppy managed to awaken the others?"
"Madam Pomfrey reports that Madam Pince and Professor Trelawney are groggy but awake. Hagrid is still unconscious."
"Tell Pince and Trelawney to come to the gates in one hour to take over for me and Flavius. Young as they are one hour should be enough recovery time." McGonagall said as she walked out of the main doors. Mr. Ollivander was waiting for her. Together they headed for the front gates.
Hermione debated the merits of opening her eyes or keeping them closed. She decided to wait. It wasn't a hard decision to make. Her body ached everywhere. Worst, her head felt like an anvil was using it for a trampoline. Waves of pain spiked and ebbed inside her head. Opening her eyelids was bound to be painful. She heard Neville, at least she hoped it was Neville, moving about close by.
"Hermione?" Neville's voice seemed to come from very, very far away. "Are you awake?"
She mumbled something and concentrated on opening her eyes. She saw the last person she was expecting. She'd only met one like him and his appearance was unmistakable. "Professor Moody?"
"Yes, Ms. Granger." Alastor Moody's disfigured face swam in her line of vision. She could make out Neville's worried face off to the side. "Don't try to move much. You're concussed."
"You knocked your head on something when we appeared here, Hermione." Said Neville holding up a goblet of something. "I thought Professor McGonagall was going to skin me alive when I told her. I have to go and tell her you're awake now. I promised. Do you want a drink or something?"
"No, just tired. Are we at your house then, Professor." Hermione sat up and regretted it. The world spun around her.
Moody chuckled. "No, no, Ms. Granger. My home is far from safe these days. I am merely a visitor like yourself."
A masculine voice eerily familiar in its bass timbre touched her ears accompanied by a soft metallic gliding. She followed the voice to see a spare, gray-haired man with a lined face and a thin beard maneuvering his wheelchair closer. "My wife and I are honored to be playing host to one as brave as yourself, Ms. Granger. You are in the home of one Serjanus Snape. My wife and I were planning a visit to Hogwarts to meet you. It seems our introduction has come early."
"A p-p-pleasure to meet you, sir." Hermione extended her hand and was surprised to feel a hard grip despite Serjanus' skeletal frame.
"Unfortunately, your stay has to be brief. Here, drink this. It will ease the effects of the concussion." Serjanus Snape signaled Neville to give her the goblet. "Poppy would be very unforgiving of me if you left my enclave unattended to."
"In a few minutes, I'll be taking you and Neville back. We cannot have you being missed, especially you, young lady." Said Moody.
Hermione downed the goblet and then asked "How's the Library? Is it all right?"
Serjanus Snape smiled crookedly. "The Library is safe. As Severus and I discussed, it will remain here until, ah, some things have matured once more at Hogwarts."
"Matured?" Hermione asked.
"A long fascinating story that is yet unfinished." A tall, older woman with a slim build, dark hair and classical features glided in and stood besides Serjanus. "I'm Calliandra Snape, Ms. Granger, wife to one and mother to the other."
Hermione shook her hand and stared into obsidian eyes twins to those belonging to her son. "I got your . your owl post, Mrs. Snape, but I haven't had time to respond yet. I'm so sorry. I will once I get back. I promise you."
Calliandra laughed softly. "You are forgiven, young lady. And it's Calliandra, now. I suppose you do have a lot on your mind these days."
"You understand!" Hermione exclaimed instantly warming to this open, gracious woman so unlike her remote, standoffish son. The potion was doing its work quickly. "I try to make time for everything but there just isn't enough to go around. I finish one thing and three other things come up. I'm starting to lose track."
"Neville tells us that you have many, many questions." Serjanus asked while he could get in a word edgewise.
"Lots. About the Tradition and all that but I really want to know why I was chosen?" Hermione looked at the Snapes expectantly.
Serjanus Snape started slowly choosing his words with great care. "Please understand that Severus needs no one's permission to act in his capacity as Keeper. He did consult me about your case as he does about all muggle- borns at Hogwarts. In your instance, the reasons to not choose you were many and obvious. However, the reasons in your favor outnumber those against. I cannot speak for my son. However, I advise that you erase any doubts in your heart about your suitability. The Tradition accepts you as you are, Ms. Granger. What you bring to us is far more that what we could give back."
"But I don't have anything to give, sir. What is expected of me?" Hermione's frustration was evident.
"What is expected of you? That's easy." Calliandra smiled at her. "We expect that you will always want to be more than what you are."
"And what should I be? What can I be?" Hermione asked.
"Now, as to that only Severus knows the answer." Serjanus replied.
"Story of my life so far. He hasn't seen fit to talk to me." Hermione said.
"I see. When next you see him, tell him that I, his mother, require him to speak with you for more than .. than.." Calliandra trailed off and looked at her husband.
"At least thirty minutes." Serjanus said.
"Tell my very busy son that I require him to speak with you for no less than thirty minutes before the sun sets on this day." Calliandra looked sternly at Neville. "Neville, you are witness to this."
"Yes, ma'am." Neville agreed meekly.
An hour and a half hour later in the Sitters Room, Dumbledore and McGonagall were making last minute arrangements of some school matters while Snape and Sprout consulted on the Tree of Blessings. The Tree of Blessings looked more like the Sapling of Blessings now. It had lost nearly half of its previous size. Filch was temporarily keeping Demos company. Flamel and Ollivander eyed the cots dubiously.
"Well, Nicholas, you'll have a new story to tell Pernelle." Ollivander began to undo his cravat.
"Yes, her husband, a main course on a botanical buffet." Flamel laid his suit at the end of the cot. It had been a long night and even his patience and understanding had thinned considerably.
"Perhaps plant fodder would be more appropriate," Flitwick came in and chose a cot next to Flavius. He unstrapped his bandoleer.
Dumbledore laid down in a cot positioned next to Flamel. He sighed dramatically. "These cots are definitely not comfortable."
"Cots and blots!. Old age and old bones, Albus." Flitwick murmured pulling the blanket over him.
"You woke up on the wrong side of bed, Filius." Flavius settled into his cot enjoying Minerva's undivided attention as she tucked him in. Unknown to the others, Flavius was taking full advantage of his partner bond to thank Minerva for her kind attentions. He thought to her "So, this is what I have to do to get your attention? Save a plant! The reward had best be sweet." She thought back. "I'll think of something. Sweet dreams."
"The next time you rouse yourself to fly around in your nightclothes in the winter chill do tell me how you feel afterwards, Flavius." Flitwick replied crossly. Next to him Professor Sprout was settling down into her own cot. There would five sitters for the whole of today. "Merlin's beard! I thought the Blessing was completely out and we weren't ready. I can't remember the last time I was so scared."
"This was a fortuitous opportunity for a dry run, Filius. When the Blessing's dissolution finally occurs, we will all know what to do. Everyone has performed superbly tonight." Dumbledore put his hat on the small table by his cot and hiked up the blanket to his neck.
Professor McGonagall shushed all conversation and addressed the sitters. "I will now cast the Sitters Spell. It will take a few minutes before it takes effect." She cast the spell on each one of them starting with Sprout and ending with Dumbledore.
"You'll be awakened as soon as the Tree of Blessings has returned to its former level of growth." Snape informed them all. "Professor Sprout and I estimate that the tree will require about 14 hours of full uninterrupted exposure."
"And Demos?" Flamel asked. "How long will Demos be nurtured in that pod?"
"That we don't know." Sprout admitted. "I still find it hard to believe that the Tree put him into that pod in the first place. But all the evidence points to some link. The pod has much the same properties and materials as the last fruit we harvested from the tree. There is a connection."
"To me, the notion of a sentient plant is far more unlikely. Were I not looking straight at it, I would not believe it." Flamel commented. "A sentient plant that needed food and went hunting for it, as it were."
"Yes, it seemed to have underestimated its energy expenditure from forming that cocoon around Demos as he slept. Once the cocoon was complete, it was famished." Said Sprout.
"Someone make sure that thing doesn't go hungry for a midnight snack again." Said Flitwick still irritated.
"You would have done the same thing, Filius. Its motivation is its own survival, first and foremost." Sprout fired back.
"And it couldn't control its voracious appetite?! Hooch is passed out in the infirmary. Vector and Sinistra are hanging on by a thread. Granger and Longbottom are thankfully recovering. While Hagrid imagines giant- eating plants are after him and so has locked himself in his cabin." Flitwich gave full vent to his inner curmudgeon. "I ask you could it not have found a more civil way to ask for more food?! When one is at table, one does not just take and take."
"Plants do not practice manners and deportment. Never have and never will." Sprout was controlling her temper but just barely. To her mind the Tree of Blessing was absolutely correct in its actions. It needed food and lots of it. Hogwarts was full of energy sources biological and otherwise. It was faced with a veritable feast and naturally it was not going to refuse. "Or, Filius, perhaps you are a trifle miffed at being caught completely unprepared."
"I am prepared for attack from without not from within, Cera!" Flitwick squeaked out. "Perhaps, a bit of forewarning on your part could have made this whole experience less . less necessary and exhausting."
Ollivander raised his voice deliberately interrupting the brewing battle of words between Defense and Arms. "I still want to know why it put Demos in the pod in the first place?"
"Demos said that he had felt unwell after the cleansing ritual. Perhaps, it has something to do with our connection being severed by that ritual. The answer resides somewhere. I just have to find it." Snape said in all seriousness. "Since Demos is the only one who can directly talk with the Tree we can only guess what its true purpose was or is. We will have to wait until he is released from that pod."
Later that morning, Voldemort watched the moving men remove a final item from the back of their truck. The last item was an antique candle-lit torchiere made of ebony and marble. He had discovered it on his shopping expedition in a shop adjacent to the furniture shop. Peter Pettigrew came into his lord's private study sweaty, red faced and out of breath. He had finished rearranging the office furniture on the first floor and partly completed the second floor living areas. The dining room was host to a seven course dinner courtesy of the four star restaurant a few blocks away.
"Master, your dinner is ready." Wormtail gasped trying to get as much air into his burning lungs. A small lift would be installed at the earliest opportunity. Tomorrow, if he had his way.
"Don't forget, Wormtail, to make arrangements for some pipes and ducts to facilitate Nagini's movements about the building."
"Yes, my lord, that as well as the secure vault for your work room. Wouldn't dungeons in the basement or sub-basement be simpler and serve the same purpose?"
"You are assuming that I will be using the vault for my usual purposes, Wormtail. I have warned you before about making assumptions or questioning me."
"I was only trying to be helpful, my lord. Nothing more was implied."
"Very well. I suppose I cannot be too harsh with you. You have found just the building I had in mind. You've done well but I expect better next time, understood?"
"Your humble servant obeys, my lord."
"One more thing, remind me in a month's time to invite that gracious realtor for dinner, will you?"
"Yes, my lord."
- * -
Author's Notes
This chapter is a bit of a call to action all around. S and H have to have the talk pretty soon, don't they? As always comments, reviews, questions even flames are welcome. They can only help make the story better.
Enjoy!
mavidian
Five lumps were scattered about the room lying prone over plump pillows and under scarlet blankets and quilts. All save one was oblivious to the magical mayhem and mischief seeping into every stone, crack and fiber of the castle known as Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Neville Longbottom had been asleep, very soundly in fact. But some inner sense had dragged him away from his cozy rest and plunged him into cold wakefulness in an instant. He put on his wool robes over his nightclothes. He had only taken a few steps when he turned back and retrieved a new wool robe from his trunk. Quietly, he left the Gryffindor boys' dormitory with Trevor tucked in his pocket.
As he closed the door, he took a look back at the four lumps he was leaving behind envying them their night's sleep. The bludger-into-box tactical exercises had been exhausting. Ron had been merciless in repeating drill after drill. But, in truth, Neville had found it much more draining having to deliberately make mistakes like misaiming his spells or delaying a spell just enough to look like a missed hit. Hermione had been of no help whatsoever. Of course, she had had her hands full diverting Harry's increasing inquisitiveness. He had to agree with Professor Snape's assessment: Being yourself was hard but pretending to be someone pretending to be someone else was not conducive to good health or a sound psyche. Of course, the trick was learning to balance things while developing eyes in the back of your head and nerves of granite. In the common room, he saw Hermione Granger waiting for him. She was pacing back and forth in front of the cold hearth a thin satin robe thrown on over her nightclothes. Her hair, if possible, was bushier than usual. Her eyes mirrored his tired, bloodshot ones.
"About time, let's go." Hermione tossed her head and led the way out. Before slipping out the door, Neville wordlessly handed her his new robe. Hermione slipped it on with a grateful grin. "You're starting to read minds, too."
"Nothing magical about it. It's called anticipation." Neville whispered to her as they stepped through the portrait hole. "Thanks for waiting."
Hermione's next words came out in a mumbled rush. "I didn't have a choice. I forgot the password." At Neville's disbelieving look. "Well, you know I've had a lot on my mind lately. And all that stuff I had to say to Harry tonight to put him off and -"
"You didn't lie to him, Hermione." Neville interrupted.
"I didn't tell him the truth either. And even if I was free to tell Harry anything, how could I when I myself don't know what the truth is. Answer me that one. YOU have all the answers lately!" Lack of sleep and general crankiness allowed sarcasm to wend its way through her words. "I'm honored beyond anything, truly, but I wish I'd known more about it beforehand. Have I heard a peep from him about . about this situation all day? No! I thought he would at least have some consideration. I've been patiently waiting ALL day. I've heard from everyone else -YOUR grandmother. HIS own mother but from HIM!? Not a WORD. Obviously, I don't even rate a short, 2 sentence OWL POST! He goes and blithely does these mysterious things and no one ever questions him."
Neville wisely kept silent during Hermione's tirade. He was after all the only age mate she could discuss the Club or the Tradition with. If she wanted to talk about it, he had to let her. He stifled a yawn as they turned a corner. Fortunately, Hermione had the presence of mind to keep her voice low as they made their way to the Eyrie. "Now, look at this. Awoken from a sound sleep by . by a summons!"
"It's not like it's the Professor calling us, Hermione. He is not the cause of all our problems." Neville would have said more in defense of his absent mentor but Argus Filch came running past just then tailcoats flying with Mrs. Norris scampering after him.
The two Gryffindors looked at each other and broke out into a dead run. As they ran, Hermione continued. "Did you feel the same way, Neville? Like a fist had grabbed your heart and squeezed and . and you had to wake up no matter what."
They turned down the same corridor Filch had just come from. "Something is definitely not right. I feel like my whole body has turned into an icicle." Neville answered rubbing his hands together.
"Oooh! Where did this headache come from?" Hermione rubbed her temples in mid run.
Once around the corner and into the next corridor, they stopped in their tracks. In front of them, Professors Flitwick and Sprout were issuing rapid-fire orders to various ghosts, house elves and moving pictures all the while walking quickly and purposely down the hall. Now and again, a house elf or a house ghost would appear gesticulating to one or both of them. Ghosts appeared and reappeared.. Though Sprout and Flitwick were still in their nightclothes and slippers an aura of command and power radiated from both of them.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked as the two professors approached with their ghostly retinue in attendance.
"Something about Demos. On our way to the dungeons now." Flitwick absentmindedly said while he turned to give further instructions to a waiting house elf. "Inform the Headmaster that so far Hooch has not reported any perimeter activity. And after that find Pince. Tell her to meet me at the gates."
"Albus has issued out an alert to all house heads. The demarcation wards seem to be turning on and off on their own." Sprout added. She turned to the Friar and said. "Find Hagrid. Tell him we're assembling by the gates."
By now, Flitwick was giving instructions to Sir Nicholas. "Tell Hooch to continue her patrol on the perimeter but don't take any chances." The Gryffindor ghost didn't bother with the usual niceties and just disappeared to carry out his instruction.
Professor Sprout asked "Where are you two off?"
"The Eyrie, professor. The Eyrie wards, ah, um, gives off their own warning summonses." Neville explained clumsily.
"Are we under attack, Professor?" asked Hermione worriedly.
"If it was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named I doubt he would miss any opportunity to let us know it was him doing all this. No, this is something completely different." Flitwick was abrupt and to the point. Despite his attire, the charms professor seemed alive and alert. His eyes were hard and shrewd. Hermione noticed that Flitwick had a bandoleer strapped around him. There were several short, stubby wands latched on to the bandoleer. His own wand was strapped to his forearm. "I hope it's not the Blessing. We're not ready for that to fail just yet."
The Friar reappeared and hovered by Professor Sprout. "Professor, Hagrid is unconscious."
"What!? Was he in the forest?" said an incredulous Sprout.
"No, no. He was one of the sitters tonight." The Friar wailed in answer wringing his hands as he did so. "I found them all unconscious down there - Hagrid, Professor Trelawney and Madam Pince. The Tree, oh, oh, it looks like it's shrinking!"
At hearing the Friar's horrible words, Professor Sprout ran off alternately cursing and praying. Her companion left her heading for the Sitters Room in a blur. She shouted "Filius, game change! Stall and delay!" Professor Flitwick's companion came out his body. He wrapped both his hands tightly around it. The tiny professor was lifted off his feet as he said. "You two go where you'll be of use! Go, go!"
Needing no further prompting, Neville and Hermione raced down the corridor. Flitwick zoomed off in the other direction as fast as his companion could go. The walls blurred by but he kept shouting non-stop instructions to the ghosts trailing him. "Friar, tell Albus, I'm joining Hooch on the outer perimeter then we'll regroup at the gates. Find Flavius! Tell him . make himself ready. I might need him! Grey Lady, tell Vector to take care of the eastern and southern wards! Hooch and I will take care of the north and west. Then go back to Sinistra. Tell her to go help Vector."
- * -
They made a strange sight positioned as they were around Severus Snape's large bed. The bed had been dragged hurriedly and without ceremony from its customary position by the wall to the center of the room. Other pieces of furniture had been moved to the side to accommodate this new arrangement. At the north point, Albus Dumbledore stood with one arm gripping the headboard. In his other hand, he held his wand high casting a blazing torch spell that bathed the dungeon quarters in near-blinding, incandescent glare. Professor McGonagall stood on the southern end her wand raised maintaining a levitation spell. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she fought fatigue to keep the heavy object within her spell balanced and unmoving. It was not an easy task. The object swayed sometimes slightly, sometimes violently to and fro, left and right, up and down. To her right, Nicholas Flamel scraped and tapped collecting various samples on parchment pieces or in glass vials. To her left, Mr. Ollivander helped Madam Pomfrey remove the soaking sheets and replace them with new blankets charmed to repel water. From the perambulating object above them fell boiling droplets of water that beaded and hissed upon meeting cloth or flesh. Occasionally, a house elf or ghost would pop in to deliver messages and receive instructions.
"What do you make of it, Nicholas?" asked Dumbledore. He nodded to Minerva as he added his own levitation spell to Minerva's. He handled the cumbersome weight while Minerva controlled the now violent pitching. Their two companions hovered around the object giving it an occasional nudge in the right direction. Whenever a companion touched the object electrical sparks ignited on contact. "Flavius, Poppy, hurry, please. Demos seems to be getting more agitated the longer he's levitated."
"Motion sickness belike. Severus didn't like being suspended either." Poppy commented dryly patting the last blanket into place. Pools of water formed here and there. Flamel and Poppy had both agreed that getting the object dry and secure was a top priority. "When will he get here?"
Nicholas Flamel carried a scrap of parchment to the bed stand. He set it down gently. On the scrap was a small pile of dry, brownish, uneven slivers. Using his smallest finger he sorted through the pile and separated the larger pieces into another pile. He took some smaller flakes between his fingers and ground them until they were dust. As he did so the flakes crackled and snapped like kindling wood. He inhaled slowly and carefully. A faint, earthy muskiness clung to his nostrils. The dust had the texture of soil yet its odor had the tang of iron and copper. He had tried a flame test earlier. He found the substance resistant to flame and burning in general.
"Patience, I pray for patience. I cannot make something of nothing, Albus, at least, not yet." Flamel stirred some flakes into a clear solution shaking the vial in a clockwise motion. The mixture turned red then settled into a viscous dark brown semi liquid with a tint of red. "It's growth and spread pattern I find analogous to fungal growth or lichen but with the density and hardness of metal. This combination is unsettling and disconcerting at best. What it is I could not begin to guess."
In the doorway standing by a bedraggled Argus Filch was Severus Snape breathing heavily from the frantic run from his own hospital bed. He clutched his robes more tightly around him but the chill had already seeped into his bones. His blood pressure was fantastically high. Every vein in his forehead and neck throbbed painfully. As he stood there leaning on the doorframe for support, he knew the Eyrie wards were being breached. His duty lay, must lie, in the Library. But once he had emerged from the shielded walls of the Counsel Room at Filch's heels, he had become aware of Demos once again. He would not ignore Demos' stark terror and pleas for help, duty or not. Snape summoned a house elf and left instructions for Neville.
- * -
As they had got closer and closer to the North Tower, Hermione and Neville's discomforting headaches and chills became more debilitating. More than once they had to pause and brace themselves before continuing on. As they entered the Eyrie shivering and rubbing their foreheads, they saw Professor Vector standing by the windows, hands raised and launching spell after spell. Energy crackled and lanced in sharp arcs around his form. He saw them come in and yelled at Neville. "It's all I can do to keep the outer ward perimeters up! You have to take care of the library, Neville! Snape's left instruction with that elf there!"
The elf delivered its message. Neville told the elf to return and tell the professor "Instructions received. Hermione's with me." Neville strode to his desk and took out a gnarled wand from one of the drawers. Hermione ran to the library. She cast a quick ward reveal spell and saw that the normally white and blue ward was pulsing an angry red. Red meant it was fighting against something - something that was trying to get through.
"Neville, what's strong enough to get - ?!" Hermione began.
"Doesn't matter! We're going to move it. Have to move it." Neville thumbed quickly through his dog-eared booklet.
"Move it?! Where? Can you even - ?"
"Together we have the power. We're going to take it back to the last place where it was safe." Neville rummaged around his desk reading through several parchments. "Here's the incantation. Start memorizing. We start in five minutes."
Hermione grabbed the parchment and blanched. She had good reason. Reproduced on the parchment was a complex series of incantations and spells in old High Latin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Neville open one of the armoires and take out a long, dark staff with muted silvery engravings in the middle. Professor Sinistra ran in and stood by Vector. She started joining her spells to his. Hermione forced her attention back to the parchment. They had five minutes.
At a final nod from Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore and McGonagall slowly lowered Demos' encrusted form back on to the bed. All their eyes followed the pod's downward progress. Demos' form was sealed inside a hard, egg shaped shell or husk covered tip to tip by brown scales with a vein-like pattern of leaves. Snape walked closer as the pod settled on to the bed. The bed frame creaked at the weight. Water cascaded over the sides splashing down to the stone floor. The pod rocked left and right as if something was rolling inside. Professor Sprout came in and motioned to the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. Sprout kept glancing at the pod and shaking her head. After a few minutes of hushed conversation, Professor McGonagall opened her partner bond completely and sent Ollivander a message - volunteer to partner. Ollivander stopped talking with the Friar immediately and turned to make eye contact with Professor McGonagall. The headmaster and the headmistress departed after the extremely agitated Professor Sprout. Mr. Ollivander pulled Flamel off to the side.
Snape ran a hand lightly over the rough surface. Though damp, Demos' cocoon was not slimy to the touch. The scaly exterior was tough and rubbery. "Demos, Demos, can you hear me?!" Snape asked. "Demos, answer me! Stop moving and listen. I'm right here. Everything will be all right. Let me help you."
The cocoon stopped moving. Snape continued. "If you can hear me, move." The husk rocked sideways and then stopped. Snape let out his breath in relief. "All right, good. If you are in pain, move." The cocoon remained still. "Is your movement limited." The cocoon moved once. "Can you phase your body?" There was no movement. The questions and the answers went on for a while. Demos remembered feeling very tired and achy the other night. He had fallen asleep. The next thing he was aware of was waking up inside the "cocoon" unable to see nor hear anything nor utter a syllable. He soon discovered that he had very limited movement inside. He was laid out flat on his back. His back and legs felt attached to something. He had sharp pains in his stomach and head now and again. He had tried to wait patiently in the darkness but began to panic when he heard no one or anything. Then he had heard Poppy tapping on the outside calling his name. Soon he heard the others but he could not speak to them. He had rocked and rocked the pod with all his strength to make sure that they knew he was still inside. He wanted to get out and soon. He didn't like being inside. When would Severus get him out?
"Demos, listen to me. I will get you out even if I have to cut through this . this shell with my bare hands." Snape said his voice whisper soft and rough with emotion. Snape sat on the bed one hand on the cocoon. Snape still had some fledgling sense of what Demos was feeling. The sense of the other was not as strong as it had once been between them but there were still vestiges of sensation. At the moment, the uppermost emotions Snape could sense were Demos' anxiety and fear. Snape tried to project soothing calm in his thoughts while mastering his own fears and doubts. He schooled his voice to his best potions master's tone hoping that the sharp tone would replace Demos' fears with calm and confidence. "You will get out, Demos. Have no doubts on that. We must study this and find the best way to get you out without harming you. For now, I want you to rest. You must rest now."
Demos began to rock hard. Snape added less stern but still firm. "You won't be forgotten or alone. I promise you." The cocoon rocked again. "I'll be here. If I'm not here then there will be others." The man-sized pod began to rock so violently that one end began to slide off the bed. Snape, Ollivander and Filch held on keeping the pod in the middle of the bed. "Demos, I cannot stay here for very long. I must return to the Counsel room's isolation ward." The rocking grew more insistent. Snape's attempts at reason had failed and he knew it. He and Filch pushed and rolled the pod until it was in the center of the bed again.
As Mr. Ollivander left the room, Poppy saw the helpless distress on Snape's stricken countenance. As she herself laid a hand on the pod her thoughts turned to recent memories. Some time ago, she had watched as Demos had come into existence during Severus' first disastrous summoning. For a moment, thinking Severus' life endangered, she had had a chance to destroy him. But fate had stayed her hand from that mistake. Of that, she was more than glad. This child, for he was very like a child in his winsome heart and earnest soul, had gifted them with far more than they had returned or expected. Now, this child needed them. She implored softly letting her voice express her affection for this most unexpected of creatures. "Demos, please, please stop. We will not let you stay here by yourself. We know you're scared. One of us will always be here. You will never be alone asleep or awake. Please, please stop before you hurt yourself." Her warmth and affection won out. Demos stopped rocking. "Do you want to choose the ones you want to be with you?" The pod rocked once. "All right after every name I mention rock once for yes." Pomfrey listed out all the names of everyone in the Club. After Demos had made his choices, Snape indicated that he would go first and stay until dawn and then Madam Pomfrey would relieve him. The others would take their turns later.
The Bloody Baron appeared with an urgent summons from Dumbledore for Pomfrey and Flamel to join him in the Sitters Room. Snape moved to join them but Poppy stopped him with an adamant wave. "No, stay here. You can barely stand as it is."
Nicholas ran a trained eye on the gaunt potions master. His inner sight told him all he needed to know. Snape was under a great deal of physical pain. In his mind's eye, Snape's aura was vibrantly blood red especially around the head and chest. "She's right, Severus. We'll call you if we need you. Stay here. Try to rest." Snape was forced to acquiesce to the note of rigid, unequivocal authority in old alchemist's gently worded command.
Back in the Eyrie, Hermione stood ready. She grasped one end of the wand staff while Neville held the other. They were the only ones standing in the room. Both professors were on their knees as they strove to augment the faltering Hogwarts wards. They continued to send spells out drawing on all the energy their companions could provide. The maelstrom of energy around them grew so blindingly intense that only their outlines were discernible as dark shapes against a backdrop of shifting colors. . No matter how much they re-energized the wards, the energy would begin to dissipate again after a few minutes forcing them to add more and more magical energy. Neville and Hermione shut out whatever else was happening around them and began to chant in unison.
As the last syllable was uttered, the two Gryffindors gripped the staff hard with both hands. Around them the sound of whistling air grew louder. The wand staff began to vibrate and hum. The air became a physical manifestation blowing so harshly against them that they were lifted off their feet. Tears streamed down their faces as they kept eye contact throughout not bothering to blink or look away for a moment. The wand staff began to turn clockwise. As the rotation grew faster and faster, Hermione and Neville found themselves suspended in the air parallel to the wand. Wherever they were going, they were going to get there fast.
Professor McGonagall split off from Dumbledore midway to the Tree of Blessing's dungeon rooms. Professor Sprout had been quite detailed in her analysis of the problem with the Tree of Blessings. Sprout and Dumbledore were making some adjustments and their solution would be implemented sometime in the next two hours. She had left Sprout and Dumbledore in the Sitters Room to coordinate the others. Sir Nicholas hovered by her side taking her multiple missives. "Where are Flitwick and Hooch now? Mark and time?"
"At the gates. They did not look well." Said Sir Nicholas. "Mark is 3 hours and 10 minutes since first action. Time is 3am exactly."
"Tell them to hold on. Flavius and I are on the way there to relieve them." The headmistress walked briskly into the Main Hall. "Has the Ministry gotten notice yet? Vector and Sinistra?"
"No, professor. We have been able to maintain the ward levels above the point where the Ministry is automatically notified. They should not have any indications that there is anything amiss here. East and south wards are at less than normal levels but holding steady."
"Good. We must keep it that way." McGonagall muttered. "We don't need any more Ministry inquiries. Where are Neville and Hermione?"
A picture of a young lady in Renaissance garb answered. "Last report they were both safe in the North Tower, professor."
"Sir Nicholas, tell Vector and Sinistra to hold on for another hour or so." Sir Nicholas disappeared. McGonagall continued to get her update. "House students?"
"In their dormitories and all accounted for." Answered the same portrait.
"At least some things are going correctly." Professor McGonagall. "Has Poppy managed to awaken the others?"
"Madam Pomfrey reports that Madam Pince and Professor Trelawney are groggy but awake. Hagrid is still unconscious."
"Tell Pince and Trelawney to come to the gates in one hour to take over for me and Flavius. Young as they are one hour should be enough recovery time." McGonagall said as she walked out of the main doors. Mr. Ollivander was waiting for her. Together they headed for the front gates.
Hermione debated the merits of opening her eyes or keeping them closed. She decided to wait. It wasn't a hard decision to make. Her body ached everywhere. Worst, her head felt like an anvil was using it for a trampoline. Waves of pain spiked and ebbed inside her head. Opening her eyelids was bound to be painful. She heard Neville, at least she hoped it was Neville, moving about close by.
"Hermione?" Neville's voice seemed to come from very, very far away. "Are you awake?"
She mumbled something and concentrated on opening her eyes. She saw the last person she was expecting. She'd only met one like him and his appearance was unmistakable. "Professor Moody?"
"Yes, Ms. Granger." Alastor Moody's disfigured face swam in her line of vision. She could make out Neville's worried face off to the side. "Don't try to move much. You're concussed."
"You knocked your head on something when we appeared here, Hermione." Said Neville holding up a goblet of something. "I thought Professor McGonagall was going to skin me alive when I told her. I have to go and tell her you're awake now. I promised. Do you want a drink or something?"
"No, just tired. Are we at your house then, Professor." Hermione sat up and regretted it. The world spun around her.
Moody chuckled. "No, no, Ms. Granger. My home is far from safe these days. I am merely a visitor like yourself."
A masculine voice eerily familiar in its bass timbre touched her ears accompanied by a soft metallic gliding. She followed the voice to see a spare, gray-haired man with a lined face and a thin beard maneuvering his wheelchair closer. "My wife and I are honored to be playing host to one as brave as yourself, Ms. Granger. You are in the home of one Serjanus Snape. My wife and I were planning a visit to Hogwarts to meet you. It seems our introduction has come early."
"A p-p-pleasure to meet you, sir." Hermione extended her hand and was surprised to feel a hard grip despite Serjanus' skeletal frame.
"Unfortunately, your stay has to be brief. Here, drink this. It will ease the effects of the concussion." Serjanus Snape signaled Neville to give her the goblet. "Poppy would be very unforgiving of me if you left my enclave unattended to."
"In a few minutes, I'll be taking you and Neville back. We cannot have you being missed, especially you, young lady." Said Moody.
Hermione downed the goblet and then asked "How's the Library? Is it all right?"
Serjanus Snape smiled crookedly. "The Library is safe. As Severus and I discussed, it will remain here until, ah, some things have matured once more at Hogwarts."
"Matured?" Hermione asked.
"A long fascinating story that is yet unfinished." A tall, older woman with a slim build, dark hair and classical features glided in and stood besides Serjanus. "I'm Calliandra Snape, Ms. Granger, wife to one and mother to the other."
Hermione shook her hand and stared into obsidian eyes twins to those belonging to her son. "I got your . your owl post, Mrs. Snape, but I haven't had time to respond yet. I'm so sorry. I will once I get back. I promise you."
Calliandra laughed softly. "You are forgiven, young lady. And it's Calliandra, now. I suppose you do have a lot on your mind these days."
"You understand!" Hermione exclaimed instantly warming to this open, gracious woman so unlike her remote, standoffish son. The potion was doing its work quickly. "I try to make time for everything but there just isn't enough to go around. I finish one thing and three other things come up. I'm starting to lose track."
"Neville tells us that you have many, many questions." Serjanus asked while he could get in a word edgewise.
"Lots. About the Tradition and all that but I really want to know why I was chosen?" Hermione looked at the Snapes expectantly.
Serjanus Snape started slowly choosing his words with great care. "Please understand that Severus needs no one's permission to act in his capacity as Keeper. He did consult me about your case as he does about all muggle- borns at Hogwarts. In your instance, the reasons to not choose you were many and obvious. However, the reasons in your favor outnumber those against. I cannot speak for my son. However, I advise that you erase any doubts in your heart about your suitability. The Tradition accepts you as you are, Ms. Granger. What you bring to us is far more that what we could give back."
"But I don't have anything to give, sir. What is expected of me?" Hermione's frustration was evident.
"What is expected of you? That's easy." Calliandra smiled at her. "We expect that you will always want to be more than what you are."
"And what should I be? What can I be?" Hermione asked.
"Now, as to that only Severus knows the answer." Serjanus replied.
"Story of my life so far. He hasn't seen fit to talk to me." Hermione said.
"I see. When next you see him, tell him that I, his mother, require him to speak with you for more than .. than.." Calliandra trailed off and looked at her husband.
"At least thirty minutes." Serjanus said.
"Tell my very busy son that I require him to speak with you for no less than thirty minutes before the sun sets on this day." Calliandra looked sternly at Neville. "Neville, you are witness to this."
"Yes, ma'am." Neville agreed meekly.
An hour and a half hour later in the Sitters Room, Dumbledore and McGonagall were making last minute arrangements of some school matters while Snape and Sprout consulted on the Tree of Blessings. The Tree of Blessings looked more like the Sapling of Blessings now. It had lost nearly half of its previous size. Filch was temporarily keeping Demos company. Flamel and Ollivander eyed the cots dubiously.
"Well, Nicholas, you'll have a new story to tell Pernelle." Ollivander began to undo his cravat.
"Yes, her husband, a main course on a botanical buffet." Flamel laid his suit at the end of the cot. It had been a long night and even his patience and understanding had thinned considerably.
"Perhaps plant fodder would be more appropriate," Flitwick came in and chose a cot next to Flavius. He unstrapped his bandoleer.
Dumbledore laid down in a cot positioned next to Flamel. He sighed dramatically. "These cots are definitely not comfortable."
"Cots and blots!. Old age and old bones, Albus." Flitwick murmured pulling the blanket over him.
"You woke up on the wrong side of bed, Filius." Flavius settled into his cot enjoying Minerva's undivided attention as she tucked him in. Unknown to the others, Flavius was taking full advantage of his partner bond to thank Minerva for her kind attentions. He thought to her "So, this is what I have to do to get your attention? Save a plant! The reward had best be sweet." She thought back. "I'll think of something. Sweet dreams."
"The next time you rouse yourself to fly around in your nightclothes in the winter chill do tell me how you feel afterwards, Flavius." Flitwick replied crossly. Next to him Professor Sprout was settling down into her own cot. There would five sitters for the whole of today. "Merlin's beard! I thought the Blessing was completely out and we weren't ready. I can't remember the last time I was so scared."
"This was a fortuitous opportunity for a dry run, Filius. When the Blessing's dissolution finally occurs, we will all know what to do. Everyone has performed superbly tonight." Dumbledore put his hat on the small table by his cot and hiked up the blanket to his neck.
Professor McGonagall shushed all conversation and addressed the sitters. "I will now cast the Sitters Spell. It will take a few minutes before it takes effect." She cast the spell on each one of them starting with Sprout and ending with Dumbledore.
"You'll be awakened as soon as the Tree of Blessings has returned to its former level of growth." Snape informed them all. "Professor Sprout and I estimate that the tree will require about 14 hours of full uninterrupted exposure."
"And Demos?" Flamel asked. "How long will Demos be nurtured in that pod?"
"That we don't know." Sprout admitted. "I still find it hard to believe that the Tree put him into that pod in the first place. But all the evidence points to some link. The pod has much the same properties and materials as the last fruit we harvested from the tree. There is a connection."
"To me, the notion of a sentient plant is far more unlikely. Were I not looking straight at it, I would not believe it." Flamel commented. "A sentient plant that needed food and went hunting for it, as it were."
"Yes, it seemed to have underestimated its energy expenditure from forming that cocoon around Demos as he slept. Once the cocoon was complete, it was famished." Said Sprout.
"Someone make sure that thing doesn't go hungry for a midnight snack again." Said Flitwick still irritated.
"You would have done the same thing, Filius. Its motivation is its own survival, first and foremost." Sprout fired back.
"And it couldn't control its voracious appetite?! Hooch is passed out in the infirmary. Vector and Sinistra are hanging on by a thread. Granger and Longbottom are thankfully recovering. While Hagrid imagines giant- eating plants are after him and so has locked himself in his cabin." Flitwich gave full vent to his inner curmudgeon. "I ask you could it not have found a more civil way to ask for more food?! When one is at table, one does not just take and take."
"Plants do not practice manners and deportment. Never have and never will." Sprout was controlling her temper but just barely. To her mind the Tree of Blessing was absolutely correct in its actions. It needed food and lots of it. Hogwarts was full of energy sources biological and otherwise. It was faced with a veritable feast and naturally it was not going to refuse. "Or, Filius, perhaps you are a trifle miffed at being caught completely unprepared."
"I am prepared for attack from without not from within, Cera!" Flitwick squeaked out. "Perhaps, a bit of forewarning on your part could have made this whole experience less . less necessary and exhausting."
Ollivander raised his voice deliberately interrupting the brewing battle of words between Defense and Arms. "I still want to know why it put Demos in the pod in the first place?"
"Demos said that he had felt unwell after the cleansing ritual. Perhaps, it has something to do with our connection being severed by that ritual. The answer resides somewhere. I just have to find it." Snape said in all seriousness. "Since Demos is the only one who can directly talk with the Tree we can only guess what its true purpose was or is. We will have to wait until he is released from that pod."
Later that morning, Voldemort watched the moving men remove a final item from the back of their truck. The last item was an antique candle-lit torchiere made of ebony and marble. He had discovered it on his shopping expedition in a shop adjacent to the furniture shop. Peter Pettigrew came into his lord's private study sweaty, red faced and out of breath. He had finished rearranging the office furniture on the first floor and partly completed the second floor living areas. The dining room was host to a seven course dinner courtesy of the four star restaurant a few blocks away.
"Master, your dinner is ready." Wormtail gasped trying to get as much air into his burning lungs. A small lift would be installed at the earliest opportunity. Tomorrow, if he had his way.
"Don't forget, Wormtail, to make arrangements for some pipes and ducts to facilitate Nagini's movements about the building."
"Yes, my lord, that as well as the secure vault for your work room. Wouldn't dungeons in the basement or sub-basement be simpler and serve the same purpose?"
"You are assuming that I will be using the vault for my usual purposes, Wormtail. I have warned you before about making assumptions or questioning me."
"I was only trying to be helpful, my lord. Nothing more was implied."
"Very well. I suppose I cannot be too harsh with you. You have found just the building I had in mind. You've done well but I expect better next time, understood?"
"Your humble servant obeys, my lord."
"One more thing, remind me in a month's time to invite that gracious realtor for dinner, will you?"
"Yes, my lord."
- * -
Author's Notes
This chapter is a bit of a call to action all around. S and H have to have the talk pretty soon, don't they? As always comments, reviews, questions even flames are welcome. They can only help make the story better.
Enjoy!
mavidian