"Has the Wizengamot reached a verdict?"
"We have, Minister."
"Then will the defendant please rise."
Manacled and shaking, Lucius Malfoy rose to his feet.
Griselda Marchbanks stood grimly and read from a piece of paper.
"Of the crimes of Death Eater activity, breaking and entering the Ministry of Magic, attempted murder, and the usage of the Unforgivable Curses, we find the defendant, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, guilty."
There was resounding applause from the crowd assembled. Lucius' body went limp and his face dropped into his chained hands.
Narcissa shook with terror as her blue eyes filled with tears. Next to her, Remus placed his hand on hers.
"Shh. It will be all right," he lied.
Minister Rufus Scrimgeor rose to his feet.
"I hereby sentence the defendant, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, to death by the Dementor's Kiss." He looked down at Lucius grimly, "May God have mercy on your soul."
"No!" Narcissa screamed.
Her howl was almost drowned out by mutters of approval from the crowd.
The doors at one end of the room opened. A single dementor glided in, towards Lucius' wretched figure. At the sight of him, Narcissa jumped to her feet and tried to run to Lucius, but Remus was quicker. He grabbed her around her waist and yanked her back.
"No, Narcissa! There's nothing you can do for him now!"
"Let me go! Lucius!" she screamed.
"Narcissa, stay back!" Lucius ordered shakily, "Don't come any closer!"
"No!" she screamed, beginning to sob.
The dementor was upon Lucius now. Its wasted hands took a hold of Lucius' tattered collar, and lifted him up towards its hood. Remus could not watch. Narcissa had grown oddly still, although he could not see her face; her back was to him. He closed his eyes.
In a burst of strength, Narcissa wrenched herself free and flung herself over the barrier towards her husband. She yanked her wand out of her robes, pointed it at her husband, and screamed, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
A bolt of green light spat from her wand, straight at Lucius. In the split second before it hit him, his face lit up, almost with joy, at the thought of the horrible end he had just escaped. Then the light hit him and he dropped to the floor, eyes wide, completely still.
He was dead.
Several people started shouting. Remus leapt over the barrier and ran towards her, before anyone else could reach her. Narcissa was shaking, crying, as she stood over the body of her beloved husband. She had killed him to help him escape a more horrible death. Remus felt like crying as he ran to her side.
Suddenly, a bolt of hot pink fire engulfed Narcissa's shaking form. She screamed in pain and horror as it burned. Remus cried out, his own shout mingling with those from the assembled crowd. Everyone was still. Nobody knew what to do.
The fire went out. Narcissa fell to the stone floor, beside her husband, completely still.
Remus ran to her and lifted her unconscious form. "Narcissa," he muttered. She did not move.
"The Auralium Curse," Scrimgeor murmured, stunned. Remus looked up at him.
"She was under the Auralium Curse," he said to the assembled Wizengamot. He sounded shocked, "I had never seen its effects before."
He looked at Remus, who was holding Narcissa in his arms tightly, "You knew about this?"
"Just recently learned of it," Remus replied, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Malfoy asked me for a conjugal visit to discuss what would happen to her afterwards."
"Why you?" Scrimgeor asked, "Who are you?"
"Remus Lupin," he told him, "I'm – a friend of hers. We knew each other at school."
"I've heard of you before," Scrimgeor said, his eyebrows knitted, trying to remember.
Remus interrupted, "Lucius asked me to care for her. She has nobody left in the world. She's been out of contact with her family for several years. I'm willing to do it. I need permission to take her to St. Mungo's. She needs medical assistance."
Scrimgeor's eyes narrowed, "Lupin, this woman is a murderer. She just used an Unforgivable Curse on her husband! She prevented justice from being served!"
"None of which she will remember when she wakes!" Remus cut in furiously. "You can't seriously be thinking of trying a woman who will have no memory at all, and will be virtually unable to defend herself!"
The Wizengamot muttered. Scrimgeor turned red.
Not for the first time, Remus wished Dumbledore were there. He would know what to do for Narcissa. He might even know a counter curse, so she would remember everything. But even if he did, Remus realized, Narcissa was so far gone, she might have suffered permanent damage. Her memory had been completely erased twice. She would be like a child again – completely dependant.
Scrimgeor was consulting with several members of the Wizengamot. Finally, he looked at Remus and said:
"You may take Mrs. Malfoy to St. Mungo's, Lupin."
"Thank you," Remus began, but he was cut off.
"However," Scrimgeor thundered, "the Wizengamot needs to consult about whether or not you are – the right guardian, shall we say, to appoint to her."
Remus stared at him. Suddenly, a particular member of the Wizengamot seemed to stand out from the others. She was a squat witch with short, iron gray hair and a smug, ugly face. Dolores Umbridge, hater of all "half-breeds" as she called them. She had obviously reminded Scrimgeor of Remus' "questionable background." Remus' face went hot with anger.
"You will appear for a hearing this evening at 8 'o clock sharp," Scrimgeor announced.
"If it pleases the court," Remus said angrily.
He lifted Narcissa into his arms and carried her from the silent hall, without another word.
The hospital ward was dark. Remus sat motionless next to Narcissa's bed, watching her still form, her long blonde hair spread out over the pillow.
So many emotions were warring within him. He was too old for such nonsense. Too old to be in love. Wasn't that what he had told Tonks?
Poor Tonks. He closed his eyes against the pain, but it came anyway. Even after so many years, he had not yet learned to cast it out.
He had come home to find her packing her things. Her vivid hair had gone mousy brown again, as of late. He didn't know how to love her. He hadn't loved anyone in so long a time.
"Remus – " she had begun awkwardly.
"No," he had stopped her, sighing, "You don't have to tell me anything. I understand."
"I'm sorry," Tonks had said helplessly, standing before a full suitcase, "I just – I can't live like this, Remus. I thought things would be different. You promised to try." Her face was soft, devoid of emotion, but her eyes were dark, accusatory. She blamed him, but she did not have to. He blamed himself so much more than she ever could.
"You're right. I did." Remus had raked his hand through his thinning hair. "But it's a lifetime of loss, Tonks." His voice trailed off.
"You said you would try, for my sake," she insisted, "You promised me."
How could he explain to her that he was too tired to try, too old? That every time he held her in his arms, he could see a woman of seventeen, long corn silk blonde hair swaying in the breeze? How could he make her understand the ache of his heart when he woke in the morning to see wide gray eyes looking at him, as he tried so hard to dispel the dreams he had of staring into sapphire depths? It was so much easier to pretend that nothing had passed between him and the young aunt Tonks never knew. Better to pretend that Narcissa had never existed.
I tried, Remus thought ruefully, coming back to earth. The past doesn't die as quickly as I imagined it would.
At thirty-seven, he had thought that all feelings had been dispelled, that the love he felt for his friends, and for his young former students, was all he would ever feel again. Romantic love was something reserved for the young, and that was where it would flourish. Why try to feel something he couldn't feel? Why try to fall in love when he could never close his eyes without seeing her gentle smile?
Every night for twenty years, he had tried in vain to forget her. He had not seen her, he could easily pretend she no longer existed. But he could not forget the agony he had felt when she had woken on her bed at the Malfoys', and had not recognized him – or had pretended not to, as he had believed at the time.
Let her go, he had told himself. She and Lucius deserve each other.
And now –
Now, to discover that it had all been a lie? That it was not that she did not love him – but that she did not remember loving him?
Narcissa moaned in her sleep, shifted a little. The hairs on Remus' neck stood on end.
In the light of the half-moon shining outside the window, he could make out her delicate features. How had time, the great ravisher of beauty, managed to overlook this woman? She was thirty-six years old, and she had borne a child. But her figure was as lissome as ever, her face as unlined and youthful as it had been twenty years ago. Of course, she did not look seventeen anymore; there was something rather motherly about her features, and if there had been light in the room, he would have noticed a few stray silver hairs among the gold. But her beauty had been preserved. In features only, she was the same girl Remus had left behind twenty years ago.
Inside – well, only time would tell.
Remus' heart ached. Why, after so long, did he still have feelings for her?
She was so heart-wrenchingly lovely. But it wasn't that. In the curve of her face, in the long gold eyelashes that he had brushed snowflakes from on a winter's night so long ago, there was a darkness of tragedy that he himself had put his stamp on.
I cast her out. I let her go. I can blame no one so much as myself that her mind is an empty slate this evening.
But I will make it up to her, Remus thought determinedly. She gave me a second chance, the night she discovered my secret, that I was a werewolf.
I will make sure that nobody else has the chance to hurt her again.
He stroked the pale cheek, resisted the urge to kiss her.
It was getting late. He was due back at the Wizengamot any minute now.
"I'll be back soon," Remus whispered, "I promise – Cissa."