Updated: Tuesday 5th September 2006
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine...
Chapter Twenty-four: A Final Betrayal
Severus Snape glanced up from his marking and frowned. He had received word from Dumbledore less than half and hour earlier; Potter had received a vision from the Dark Lord and he and his merry band of followers had taken off on a whim to see if it were true. Unfortunately, the brash boy's latest escapade included his niece, and while he did not dislike the concept of his brother-in-law being used as any sort of bait, it grated at him that Estella had permitted her judgement to be swayed by her emotional investment; he thought he'd taught her better than that.
Casting aside any residual feelings of guilt he felt for ceasing to teach the boy the Occlumency skills that could have prevented the false vision – and thus Estella's folly - Severus returned his attention to the third year's essays. In light of all the perils Estella had landed herself in, Severus had taken measures to ensure that he would be able to detect the dangers as they crossed her path. He'd felt nothing an hour earlier, when Estella and Potter were thought to have left the school, and much like the fleeting false alarm he'd felt the night before his birthday, he could not quite put his finger on the girl's current state. Could she possibly be blocking him?
"Estella," he spoke to the empty room quietly, his eyes falling to a framed photograph on his desk that he largely kept disillusioned from visitors to his office. Inside the frame, a nine-year-old incarnation of his niece waved at him excitedly, proudly presiding over her cauldron as she'd posed for the photo she'd insisted he take. Seemingly of its own volition, a long, slender finger reached out to trace the outline of the frame. Whilst he did not have any concrete cause for concern, he could not shake the uneasy feeling. "What manner of mischief have you gotten yourself into, this time?"
Sighing audibly, the uncharacteristically weary wizard cast aside his marking and allowed his mind to focus whole heartedly on his niece. The relationship between himself and Estella had evolved into something he had never envisioned. He could not blame the child for endearing herself to two other men – a father and godfather, no less - who uninhibitedly wore their hearts on their sleeves; nor could he deny his own accountability for purposefully driving the girl away in times of late. But where Severus fell short in his reasoning, where he simply could not come to terms with the consequences, it was in the realisation that he had pushed the girl so far away that she did not think to come to him when she needed help.
Yes, it had been necessary to remain ambiguous as to his allegiances; the war was at a stage where not even Estella could be trusted to handle the truth. Of course, he knew that the child would never willingly betray him, but he did not want to risk the chances of her being used against him. Lucius may have been blinded by the girl's bloodlines and what a union between Estella and her son could secure for his family name, but there were other Death Eaters, equally ambitious, with an eye for sabotage. If it were to be known that his niece, a firm ally of her father and all he stood for, still had an amicable relationship with him, then it would have pulled his reputation into disrepute. More importantly, in light of the task he had been enlisted to carry out, he had purposefully unravelled himself from his niece's life; imposing self-sufficiency upon the teenager in the vain hope that it would enable her to react more favourably in the fall out.
"Be careful what you wish for," he mused aloud, summoning a bottle of Fire Whiskey. The odd feeling that had swept over him had stopped almost as soon as it had began, and while it made him uneasy, he was wont to dismiss it, lest he over react. That is, of course, until his Dark Mark began to burn.
"Sirius, Sirius!" Albus Dumbledore appealed for calm. After an eventful confrontation with Voldemort in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, the Order leader had created a Portkey, sending both child and godfather to the sanctuary of his Hogwarts office. He had followed them a few minutes later, after ensuring that the threat to the Ministry had diminished and the Death Eaters, secure, to find his office in disarray. Worn out from his possession by Voldemort, Harry sat dejectedly on a settee, staring sightlessly into the fireplace; he was seemingly oblivious to the destruction Sirius' rage was unleashing upon the room. Ducking a spinning top as it sailed over his head and slammed into the unforgiving stone wall – missing a disgruntled portrait by mere inches – the old man sighed and drew his wand, ensuring the man's compliance by magical means.
"What the hell…" Sirius swore, brooding seethingly as his body was coaxed into an armchair not far from his godson.
"Sirius, you need to calm down," said Dumbledore quietly. "By all means you can continue destroying my possessions at a later date – I daresay I have too many – but for now we have much to discuss. There isn't much time…"
"Isn't much time?" Sirius muttered, repeating the phrase over and over, his voice getting louder and more obtuse with each re-telling. "ISN'T MUCH TIME? WE HAVE ALL THE TIME IN THE WORLD -" he shook off the Compulsion Charm and stood, knocking over the small tea table in front of the chair "- GIVE ME ONE REASON! ONE! WHY I CAN'T JUST GET A TIME-TURNER AND-"
"You know the law, limiting the circumstances by which Time Turners can be deployed," said Dumbledore. "I daresay we have skirted the law enough in the past… but I am afraid, my friend, that there can be no undoing what cannot be undone…"
Sirius swore.
"I DON'T GIVE A HIPPOGRIFF'S ARSE WHAT THE LAW SAYS!" snapped the fraught Animagus, who had now taken to loudly pacing the room and pulling at his hair. "And… and… AND DON'T CALL ME FRIEND! NOT WHEN YOU'RE TRYING TO TELL ME THAT IT CANNOT BE UNDONE!"
"Even if we had a Time Turner, Sirius – which need I remind you, we do not – there are simply too many variables," said Dumbledore gravely. "What if changing things meant that someone else fell through the veil… had Estella not been standing there and repelled you, it would very likely have been you…"
"THEN SO BE IT! I'D RATHER IT WERE ME!" yelled Sirius, his voice cracking with emotion as he allowed his weary body to concede defeat and collapse in an armchair; shaky hands cradling his head.
At his godfather's affirmation, Harry's head shot up, an unreadable expression on his face. Noticing this, Dumbledore sighed.
"Would you really wish this upon your daughter?" he asked. "She and Harry would have been separated in their time of grief, as there would have been no choice but for Harry to return to his relatives…" his voice trailed off, and he trailed a finger along his jaw in thought. "I am sorry, Sirius – and you, Harry – but Estella made her choice."
"Made her choice?" said Harry, suddenly, the overwhelmed teenager simmering with his own issues of guilt and grief. "It wasn't her choice that I didn't clear my mind before going to sleep! It wasn't Estella's decision to take off blindly for the Ministry! It was my idea to keep going, even when we began to suspect it was a trap – it's all my fault!"
Sirius looked torn between needling his godson for more information and rebuking the words of his former headmaster.
"My daughter would not have chosen death," he said finally, looking up at the man.
"No," Dumbledore conceded. "But she chose to save you from the same fate."
Just then, the door burst open, permitting entrance to two familiar faces.
"I came as soon as I realised you were back," said Remus apologetically, helping Tonks onto the settee, besides Harry. "I couldn't keep her in the Infirmary."
"My leg's fine," snapped Tonks, slapping his hands away. "It's crazy down there… I want to know what's going on just as much as you. Headmaster, there's got to be a way of getting someone out from the veil, right?"
Dumbledore looked pensive. Suddenly, four sets of eyes were studying him intently. Whilst Harry had been wallowing in his own self-incriminations and Sirius had been fixated on finding a Time Turner, no one had broached the question of just what the veil was, or if it could ever give back that which it took. Given its placement in the Department of Mysteries, and taking into account the dark nature of its inception, the chances were not in their favour; but when it came to the occupants in the room before him, and especially the girl whose absence was on all of their minds, Albus Dumbledore knew to expect the unexpected.
"Well?" Sirius ground out impatiently, mirroring his cousin's hope.
"I think it is time we inform Severus of his niece's misfortune," said Dumbledore quietly, conscious of events that had yet to come into play. "Her housemaster too; I imagine her friends are anxious for news…"
At the Headmaster's words, Harry swore softly and stood; driven by a sudden urge to be alone he bolted to the fireplace and conjured the flame that would permit him entrance to Ravenclaw's Keep. As one of only two people who could gain access to the hidden room in that manner, none of the startled adults could follow; their alarmed voices calling after him still echoing in his ears as he tumbled into the unique blue flames.
The first thing Harry saw as he fell out of the uniquely blue flames of the Keep's fireplace was the fallen piano stool, lying on its side just where Estella had left it last. His eyes flying to the instrument that had once brought the girl such solace, he was instantly filled with rage as he detected the faint smatterings of blood and hair where the back of Estella's head had impacted with the sharp corner on the underside of the keyboard. It had occurred to him with increasing clarity that had she not woken in such a way… had she not hit her head before all of this even began, she might had retained the presence of mind to see through Voldemort's ploy and talk sense into him, much like she usually did. Instead, her head had been fogged with pain and disorientation, her mind lost to her worry and panic: symptoms that had only been amplified by her fatigue, and helped along by his own foolish compulsiveness.
Not even bothering with his wand, Harry flung himself into destroying everything within his reach. Much like Sirius had done to Dumbledore's office, Harry threw whatever he could grab, snapped what could be snapped, and physically exerted his grief in upending the heavier furniture. When he came to the old, sturdy upright piano, however, he had cause to pause. Shoving aside the stool that already lay on its side, he knelt in its place and ran a hand over the smooth ivory keys, a choking sob making its way out from his throat as he contemplated life without the girl who helped show him the meaning of family.
Harry didn't know how long he'd knelt like that, succumbing to his tears; by the time he next came to his senses his knees were aching, the cold of the stone beneath the thin layer of robes seeping to his very soul. Rocking back onto his heels, Harry shifted his weight and slumped closer to the floor. A hand landing close to the place Estella had fallen from her stool, his eyes flew open in recognition when his fingers came across something soft. Gingerly plucking the distinctive red feather from where it lay sandwiched between the flagstones and his hand, he came to a realisation.
"Fawkes…" he muttered.
The unreadable face of Severus Snape had just vanished from the office fire, the man pressed for time as he prepared to answer the summons of his other master, when Harry tumbled back out onto the hearth, breathless. Taking in the boy's dishevelled appearance and, particularly, his bruised hands, Sirius was immediately alert.
"Harry… what… what happened? Where did you go?" he asked. While he had been informed of Estella's frequent, secret meetings with Benson Ollerton in the castle as they worked together closely in devising the customised broomstick for the Order, he had not given much thought as to where his daughter was able to work in such privacy. He'd heard casual reference of 'the Keep' between the two teenagers, of course, but it wasn't until Harry disappeared into the flames, unable to be followed, that Sirius had sought a complete explanation.
Harry shook off his godfather's concern, batting away the man's hands as he tried to inspect the injuries he'd unwittingly acquired in his grief-induced rage. Making a beeline for the headmaster's desk, he stood before the wizard who sat at its helm and slammed down the Phoenix feather for all to see.
"Estella is not gone," he said firmly, green eyes ablaze with determined conviction as he gestured to the feather meaningfully. "Fawkes would not have chosen her if this was her fate!"
Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding once, imperturbably. His eyes moving from the feather Harry had found, to the gathering group of adults who had since stood and clustered around behind the boy, he fixated on one man in particular.
"I believe, dear boy, that you may have a point," he said blithely, his eyes not leaving those of Remus Lupin. "In all the excitement, I must confess that I had overlooked that little fact… thank you, Harry."
"What are you talking about?" asked Tonks, looking between all the men in the room and frowning at the various levels of comprehension she'd found there. Of those present, only Harry and Dumbledore were attune with precisely what the relationship between Estella and Fawkes meant. Remus and Sirius were vaguely aware that the Phoenix had 'chosen' Estella at the meeting that day, but they hadn't pushed for details, the pair content in knowing that the bird would look out for the girl they loved. Harry, meanwhile, had witnessed more interaction between girl and bird than what the others had seen; subsequently indulging his patented Gryffindor curiosity by asking her the pressing questions. As Dumbledore, then, endeavoured to explain the nature of the bird's decision – leaving out the imminence of his own demise – they all reached the same conclusion as Harry.
"Alas," said Dumbledore, disliking his role as bearer of bad news, but pushing on nonetheless. "Whilst it can be determined that Estella is alive beyond the veil, I am afraid that very little can be done to get her back."
Sirius buried his head in his hands and sighed. Confronted with the idea of his daughter spending eternity in an unknown realm, forced to be alone and endure goodness knows what, he didn't know what fate was worse.
"I never thought I'd say it," he said haltingly, "but I think I'd have preferred death."
A look in his friend's direction showed that Remus had considered a similar thought, the quiet werewolf looking contemplative as he turned and stood in front of the fireplace, losing himself in watching the flickering of the flames there. Also watching the man in question very carefully, Albus Dumbledore made a decision. He cleared his throat.
"I do, however, have a theory…" he said carefully, willing the sandy-haired wizard to turn and face him; once the wizard had felt eyes on him and turned questioningly, he continued. "Remus, may I ask what your instincts were calling upon you to do in the moments after… after… Estella fell?"
Remus blinked. Wrapping his mind around the headmaster's surprising question, and struggling to word his reaction in a way that could both be understood and delivered impassively, he paused.
"I don't know," he said slowly, still at odds with the strange yearning that had filled him since the moment his niece had disappeared. "By all means I ought to have been as enraged as Sirius… and Harry. Merlin knows I could very well have killed Peter that night…" his voice trailed off, and he ran a hand over his face; this was not coming out like he had imagined.
Seeing that the others were patiently waiting for him to continue, he took a deep breath. "I wanted to follow," he said in a stage whisper, head bowing slightly. Raising his head suddenly, he locked eyes with the headmaster and frowned. "I still do."
"Remus!" said Tonks, aghast at the implication that the man she had feelings for would be so inclined to throw his life away in his grief.
Remus snapped his neck around to consider the woman's stricken expression. He rushed to explain.
"It's not like that," he said, shaking his head. "I don't understand what it is… I can't explain it…" he looked back at Dumbledore, imploringly. "It calls to me now, even now… much like how…" he paused, frowning at the realisation; "…much like how I can feel the moon calling to me in the days leading up to the full moon…"
Apparently, Remus had said precisely what the Headmaster had wanted to hear. The man nodded once, curtly, and sighed as the others looked to him in question.
"It is as I suspected," he said cryptically, beckoning for Remus to take a seat. "I apologise to you Remus… to you all, in a respect. This is something I ought to have shared with you when it first occurred to me… but understand that it was at Estella's insistence that I said nothing-"
"If something was kept from me at Estella's insistence, perhaps you ought to still honour that," said Remus automatically, making to stand again.
Dumbledore gestured for him to retain his seat.
"I assure you, Remus, that I am not disrespecting Estella's reasons," he said. "Though I daresay she would understand under these circumstances… specifically that its explanation would best account for what you are feeling right now, Remus, and provide us with an avenue that I venture would otherwise be impossible."
"What are you saying, Headmaster?" said Sirius impatiently, standing behind his friend's chair and resting a hand on the man's shoulder in silent support.
"There is hope for Estella yet," he replied, his eyes landing on Remus once more.
Severus Snape stared blankly at the fire, the news that had just been imparted to him via Fire Call still struggling for a hold in his mind.
Estella. Gone.
A row of antique glass vials on the mantle shattered with the power of uncontrollable magic, the normally contained wizard struggling to control his emotions. Instantly, his distaste for the likes of Sirius Black and Harry Potter returned to outright hatred, an amnesty he had begrudgingly cooperated with out of respect for his niece disappearing with the part they indirectly played in the girl's demise. Black, he concluded, would have been better off staying in Azkaban, and had Potter continued to believe that Estella's father had betrayed his parents, his niece would never have followed him so blindly. Yes, had Estella remained solely under his care and influence he'd have likely have had to enforce a union between his niece and Lucius Malfoy's son both in order to retain favour and ensure their safety; yet whilst he did not want a loveless marriage for his niece, it was more favourable than an early – and empty - grave.
Feeling his Dark Mark continue to burn, Severus cleared his mind and squared his shoulders. His niece's words echoing in his head, he transfigured his standard teaching attire into restrictive Death Eater robes and summoned the horrific white mask.
'Yes' he said to himself, in answer to his niece's words. He did have a job to do, and loath as he were to admit it, his niece's untimely departure had taken with it all of his misgivings.
It was time to get the job done.
"The Time Turner didn't really work?" said Sirius in a faint voice, eyes wide as he looked at his friend in a slightly different light.
Albus Dumbledore had just explained to them the complexities of time management, specifically how some things just could not be undone in their entirety. As Estella had duly suspected, Remus had taken the revelation of their unique bond spectacularly hard, the nature of the closeness he had cherished with his goddaughter now under his self-deprecating scrutiny. It was Harry who noticed the man's inner-turmoil first.
"Moony," he said firmly, the tone of his voice drawing Sirius out of his own thoughts, the pair of them now looking at Remus in concern.
Remus Lupin stared down at his hands in guilt.
"I – I – I…" he stammered, blinking away tears. "None of it was real… was it?"
"Of course it was real!" snapped Harry.
"I couldn't have wished a better godfather for my daughter," said Sirius determinedly, squeezing the man's shoulder firmly. "And I've a feeling this is exactly why Estella didn't want you to know – she didn't want you to second guess what she wouldn't have any other way."
"Two questions, Headmaster," said Harry shrewdly, looking up from Remus to stare at the older wizard in question. "How did Estella find out herself, and why are you telling us now?"
Dumbledore frowned slightly, knowing that now – nor any other time – was not an appropriate setting for uncovering the encounter the missing girl had had with Fenrir Greyback.
"How Estella reached her rather astute conclusion is not of importance at this time, and I wish to uphold her confidence in this matter," he said, noting sadly that he had done enough in revealing that Estella had kept secrets from them at all. "As for why I am telling you now, I believe that the unprecedented bond between the two are key in finding her beyond the veil…"
"And getting her out?" said Sirius, eyes narrowing.
His finger trailing his bottom lip in consideration, Dumbledore paused.
"That, my friends, is where I find myself unable to answer," he turned to Remus, his expression grave. "I am afraid, dear Remus, that I must ask you to make an unthinkable sacrifice."
"If it's to help Estella, I wouldn't consider it a sacrifice," said Remus stoically; he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor for his looks. "What do I have to do?"
"I need for you to go beyond the veil."
"It's been hours!" Even though Madam Pomfrey had done her best amidst a ward full of patients, Reg's voice still held a distinct nasal quality to it. Assessed to be of able mind and body, he had been discharged to the Ravenclaw Common Room, where he was now in the care of his friends. Tilting his head back against the back of the sofa and re-applying the Ever-Cool Compress over his still-tender nose, his voice came out muffled. "Where is she?"
John, who had been pacing furiously in front of the fire, his eyes never too far away from the narrow bookshelf that served as entrance to the room, wrung his hands out for the millionth time.
"Something's wrong… I just know something's wrong," he muttered, more to himself than to his friends. Turning to Reg, he shook his head in exasperation. "Why did Harry and Estella not come back with the rest of us? There were enough Aurors to go around…"
Once Aurors had arrived on the scene to find that Dumbledore had already secured all of those Death Eaters, a contingent of officers had been charged with the duty of Side-Apparating the misplaced students to Hogsmeade, and accompanying them to the school. Those amongst the number who were injured, however, had travelled directly to the hospital wing via 'more secure means', but having just returned from the chaotic ward, they knew that Harry and Estella were not amongst the injured.
"I can't believe you even took off to the damn place anyway!" snapped Elsie, who was curled up on the far end of the sofa with Estella's Kneazle, Skunk, balled up on her lap. The girl was still seething about being left behind, though she maintained that it was an entirely ludicrous idea and she wouldn't have wanted to go anyway. "Now if only you had told a teacher about Harry's dream, we wouldn't be in this mess!"
"We're not in any mess!" snapped Reg, wrenching the compress away from his face to twist his neck and glare at the girl beside him. "We're perfectly fine! It's Estella and Harry who are buried in Merlin knows what…"
Reg's voice trailed off as John broke his rhythm and took off abruptly in the direction of the exit.
"John, where are you going?" he called after his friend, resting his cold compress on the arm of the couch and rising to his feet hastily. "We were told to wait here-"
"I don't care, I can't handle this!" said John, calling over his shoulder as he drew his wand and approached the bookshelf that covered the exit to the Ravenclaw tower, the indignant fourth year oblivious to the curious stares he got from the clusters of students whose study he'd disturbed as he breezed past their tables.
Elsie gently extricated the clingy Kneazle from her lap and stood alongside Reg. Exchanging a look, the pair stumbled over their feet – and each other – as they rushed to follow.
The trio were red-faced and breathless by the time they reached the entrance to the Headmaster's tower on the seventh floor, the large stone gargoyle having just closed behind two of the people they most wanted to see.
"Mr Black! Professor Lupin!" the teenagers called after the two men, halting in their tracks when they saw the men's forlorn expressions. Their former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher looked weary and preoccupied, the peculiar hard set to his face reminiscent of the sad, resigned look he wore when he had realised that one of his classes were not about to grasp the concept of his lesson. Beside him, Estella's father looked even worse; new lines appeared to have been drawn on his face since they'd last seen the man properly, and his eyes were dazed and bright with unshed tears. Meeting the pair's eyes, they were instantly regretting having sought their attention. Things did not look good, at all.
"There you are!" a small, squeaky voice called out to them, the quick rush of distinctive footsteps heralding the arrival of their head of house. Three heads turned to look down upon the vertically challenged man as he brandished an admonishing finger at them. "I have been looking for you! You were not to leave the common room… now come along, let's not bother Mr Black and Professor Lupin at this time."
The children dared not to look back at the two men whose faces said so much, instead bowing their heads and walking off in the direction of Flitwick's office, the man stepping aside and pointing them along as he apologised profusely to the parental figures in Estella and Harry's lives.
"I'm terribly sorry, gentlemen," said Flitwick awkwardly, the dwarfed man at least having a physical reason for not looking the two men in the eyes as he spoke. Bustling along behind his three fourth years, he took off after them at a light trot, his smaller legs struggling to keep up. "Come along children… to my office… I will endeavour to explain…"
"Moony, this is crazy," said Sirius pleadingly, their return to the dark, empty amphitheatre sending chills down his spine. "There's no telling that you'll be able to find her, and we've no way of getting either of you back-"
"I have to do this, Padfoot," said Remus brokenly. Gesturing towards the veil in spite, he shook his head. "Its call is stronger now."
"No offence, Remus, but if Estella didn't want me following her into the veil as we were both flung back by Bella's spell, what makes you think she'll be happy to see you resigning yourself to that fate?" said Sirius reasonably. "I know it hurts, Moony… Merlin, I know. But we've already lost enough… I've already lost enough-"
"This isn't about you, Sirius," said Remus lowly, rolling his shoulders as he physically braced himself for the unknown.
Sirius opened his mouth as to say something, but then stopped.
"You're right," he said in defeat. Quietly, he added; "it should be me, though… don't you see? What if… what if she thinks… what if she thinks I wouldn't? That I didn't want to?"
"Harry needs you," Remus reminded him. The boy himself was not with them to do so; at the same time the two marauders had left for the Ministry, Dumbledore had departed with Harry, bound for the location of a suspected Horcrux, the elder wizard intent on fulfilling a promise. He clapped a hand on the man's shoulder and looked at him levelly. "Estella knows… Sirius, she knows. I'm the only one with a chance of finding her beyond that thing, and you know it. I can't leave her there to be alone anymore than you can…"
"I know you think more of her than this, but she is only your goddaughter – you have a good thing going with Tonks, and need I remind you that Estella had tried to set you two up just as much as the rest of us. Are you really willing to give that up for something we don't even know will work?"
"Estella comes first. Tonks has always been aware of that," said Remus, too tired to enter into the argument of just how close he and the young Auror really were. "Let me go, Sirius. I can't explain how I know, but I just have a feeling that it's for the best…"
Sirius embraced his friend for what could very well be the last time. Holding back a sob, he placed his hands on either side of the man's face and stared directly into his eyes.
"I really meant it, you know," he said. "I really couldn't have wished a better godfather for my daughter."
"Thank you," whispered Remus. He doubted that Sirius would never really realise just how much it meant to him to hear those words.
"No, thank you," said Sirius, sadly. The man was positively riddled with all manner of guilt. Here was a man he had the audacity to doubt when James and Lily Potter had been under threat, and yet all along he was the best friend anyone could have wished for. There wasn't time, however, for Sirius to put his appreciation into words; the guards who had taken to guarding the many rooms within the Department of Mysteries would soon return from their 'distraction', and there would be no way they could fulfil their purpose if they were to return.
Remus Lupin backed away towards the veil and smiled at his friend in reassurance.
"Remind Harry to keep his wand level, and mind clear," he said casually, as though he were still a professor issuing homework advice. Stepping towards the archway that called to him inexplicably, he looked back one last time. "Don't worry, my friend. I will find her..."
'Or spend eternity looking…' he added to himself before he took a deep breath and answered the veil's call.
Estella snapped her eyes open in surprise. Once she'd established that neither her wand, nor her Portkey would work, she'd lost all sense of time. The noise back in the 'real world' had long since petered into an inaudible hum of pacing footsteps and the odd idle whistle. She had heard the order to place guards in the Department of Mysteries and had become accustomed to their coming and going. Upon hearing the familiar voices of her father and godfather, however, she arched her ears to listen.
"No way," she whispered fervently to herself when she caught on to what her godfather was about to do. Whilst it heartened her to think that the people she loved had wanted to take lengths to ensure that she would not, at least, be left alone, her father was right; she wanted more for her godfather. Calling out for them to stop only served to embolden her godfather's resolve. She guessed then, that he probably couldn't hear her words, rather just sense her presence, so she held her breath.
It was no help.
The moment Remus Lupin stepped through the archway, Estella knew it. She didn't know how – for she could still see nothing because of the dark – but she knew. When he began calling her name, and his voice was not muted into an inaudible whisper, Estella realised that there was, perhaps, something to the man's actions.
"Moony?" she said hesitantly, her eyes wide when the man responded at an even closer range.
"Hello, cub," said Remus Lupin, eyes shining with tears as he inexplicably found himself with his goddaughter in his arms.
Relishing the sensation of feeling something solid once more, and paying no mind to just how it had been possible for them to find each other in this strange place they found themselves in, Estella burrowed her face into her godfather's robes, savouring everything about him.
"He told you, didn't he?" she asked suddenly, looking up at him, but unable to see his face.
Remus held onto his goddaughter tightly and nodded into her hair. It was disturbing how they could be so close and yet so unable to lay eyes on one another. He had been so determined a while earlier, to do whatever it took to be with his goddaughter, but now he had her in his arms and was unable to see her, he didn't know how he would cope.
Confused by the man's silence, Estella frowned and pushed away from her godfather slightly.
"Why did you come?" she asked suddenly, a slight growl to her voice. "I heard you and Dad out there - you have no way of getting us back – how could you just throw everything away like that?"
"I'm surprised you even have to ask," said Remus quietly, pulling her to him tightly once more and muttering into her hair, deeply inhaling her scent. His next words were hoarse with raw emotion. "Oh Estella, do you not realise how much this, right now, means to me? When you went through that veil, I never thought I'd get to hold you in my arms again. I couldn't let you go… I didn't have a choice…"
"Yeah, well now you get what you want for all eternity," growled Estella, growing restless. "What about Tonks? Huh? How could you just leave her like that?"
"Tonks has her family… your father… not to mention Harry," said Remus beseechingly. "You were here all alone…"
"Oh, well, you know me," said Estella wryly. "Between my music and my imagination, I am quite capable of keeping myself occupied for hours on end. Besides, the conversation from the other side is rather interesting, especially when the people involved don't realise we can hear them. Do you know they've stationed round the clock guards out there? I couldn't be more protected…"
Remus detected the dry sarcasm in his goddaughter's voice and felt his anxiety leave him at her levity.
"Hang on," he said suddenly. "Do you mean to say you can hear what's going on out there?"
"Well I could if someone wasn't in here with me, chewing my ear off," said Estella pointedly. A moment of silence followed as they both paused to listen. "Dad's pacing… as Padfoot…"
"You can hear that?" said Remus in a surprised tone. His werewolf senses allowed for certain liberties, but the soft padding of the anxious Animagus was almost indiscernible to his own ears.
"They say that when you lose touch with your other senses, those that do remain move to compensate," said Estella nonchalantly; she'd had longer than him to grow accustomed to the lack of sight and, until recently, scent and feel. Closing his eyes in memory, Remus could almost see the girl shrug. "Say, how long have I been in here?"
"Almost a full day, I think," said Remus distractedly, his mind drifting to the friend he'd left on the other side, the man's pacing beating on him like a drum. What if Sirius got impulsive and decided to follow?
Resting her forehead against his chest – the pair reluctant to relinquish physical contact entirely, lest they lose one another in the void – Estella came to the same conclusion.
"How long is he going to stay out there, pacing?" she said in a small voice.
"I don't know, cub," said Remus softly, pulling his arms around the girl again, to reassure them both.
"We have to get out of here," said Estella decisively, her voice quiet and muffled from where she had burrowed into his robes, but determined all the same.
"He was definitely hiding something," said Elsie in a huff. The trio of Ravenclaws were now crowded in the fourth-year girls dormitory, their head of house having given the boys special permission to be in there. Elsie sat on the edge of Estella's unmade bed, distracting herself with her friend's pet Kneazle lest she succumb to the compulsive urge to straighten up the absent girl's bed.
John and Reg looked up from where they sat cross-legged on either side of Estella's trunk, their wands lowering as they ceased summoning Estella's things from around the room and levitating them into one pile. Flitwick had been decidedly cagey in his explanation, vaguely telling them that Estella would not be returning to the school and charging them with the duty of packing her things. With only a few weeks left of school, the idea that Estella and Harry might not see out the remainder of the term was not entirely implausible, but it was what the nervy Charms teacher had said – or didn't say – when asked about the following Fall term that had them worried.
"What could have happened anyway, that she couldn't even come back and pack her own things?" mused Reg, a sickly pallor to his face as he began categorically sorting through Estella's unfinished homework. "She wouldn't just leave without saying goodbye…"
"Perhaps she is unavoidably detained at the Ministry," suggested Luna, looking across the room at them from where she was lying across her own bed, on her stomach, flicking through a Charms text. Beside her, sat her Gryffindor mascot hat, it's animated lion's head periodically opening its mouth to roar silently – her roommates having long since politely convinced the girl to keep the hat silenced between Quidditch matches. She was currently trying to find a Charm that would enable the lion to talk, like the Sorting Hat.
Three sets of eyes narrowed at Luna in surprise; when their strange, yet inquisitive housemate got involved in her research, she very rarely was aware of things going on around them – or so they thought. Exchanging questioning looks amongst themselves, none of them could specifically recall mentioning their escapade to the Ministry, only that Estella had disappeared.
"What do you know about the Ministry?" said John pointedly.
Luna looked up from her book, nonplussed, and gave John a sceptical look.
"The walls have ears," she said in all manner of seriousness, peering at them through her big round eyes as though surprised that they were not previously aware of that fact. "The walls at the Ministry have ears too."
"Right!" John mouthed slowly, turning his face towards his friends so that Luna would not see him rolling his eyes.
It had been all over the school that morning that a group of students had left the school in the middle of the night and had been brought back by a contingent of Aurors. Whilst the continued absence of two of those students had not escaped attention, many were inclined to believe that they were either in a secluded section of the Hospital Wing, or being duly punished for their misdeeds in another part of the castle. The Slytherins, in particular, had delighted in letting their twisted minds run wild, devising a great number of torturous scenarios that best accounted for the absence of not only Harry Potter and Estella Black, but their head of house as well. The news of Severus Snape previously tearing through Gryffindor Tower in search of his niece had already entrenched itself in Hogwarts folklore, and so the rumours about the nature of the pair's relationship were already abound, readily bought by all who did not know either teenager best. Asides, then, from the rather lewd assertions of the Slytherin students, the student body were otherwise too preoccupied with other things to really pay the situation much mind; so it was surprising to hear the Ministry being mentioned.
"What have you heard?" asked Elsie. Having only heard of the adventure second-hand herself, she was curious to know what her roommate had heard, and how she had heard it.
"I haven't heard anything, I just know what my father wrote me in his letter," explained Luna, closing her book and sitting up on the mattress to reach for a piece of parchment in a drawer by her bed. "He was at the Ministry when the Aurors were called; he had been visiting out of hours to try and find a live Dust Bunny in action…"
"A what?" spluttered Reg.
"A Dust Bunny," said Luna matter-of-factly, adjusting her position so she was seated cross-legged on the edge of the bed closest to them. She casually gesticulated with her hand. "Well, they have a more complicated scientific name, but no one can ever pronounce it – I'll write it down for you if you like, then you may recognise it…"
Three heads shook their heads, no. Luna continued.
"Well I tried to tell my Daddy that I have one under my bed – it really seems to like my Potions homework – but he wouldn't listen. He said to me that at the rate the Ministry loses track of all its paperwork, there ought to be an entire colony of Dust Bunnies in the Ministry's archives," she ignored the incredulous looks on her housemate's faces and clasped her hands in her lap. "They eat paper, you know. Distant cousin to the Plot Bunnies that crawl in people's ears and possess them to write fiction. That reporter from the Daily Prophet, is suspected to have the longest-running infection. Anyway, the Ministry archives are not too far from the Department of Mysteries. Same level, I believe… on the odd days of every third month at least…"
The three shared another look, each unable to confirm if they had in fact passed any sort of filing room on the floor in question. But there had been many doors that they had left unchecked. John spoke up.
"So your father was actually there?" he said in a voice barely above a whisper. Whilst none of them truly believed that there was ever such thing as a paper-eating Dust Bunny – or in fact most of the creatures Luna invariably wove into any given conversation – they could not readily dispute that her father had been present at the Ministry; the girl seemed to know too much.
"Did I not say that?" said Luna, a genuinely bewildered expression on her face.
"Is he okay?"
"Of course he's okay, the Dust Bunnies only attack paper, after all," said Luna, reassuringly. "Alas, all the disturbance down the hall kept him from capturing any specimens…"
By the time Luna was done imparting the information that her father had supplied her with in his letter, the teenagers were at a loss as to whether or not they should believe what the man had written. Reg and John both remembered the veil from the eerie amphitheatre they had come across during their exploration of the Ministry; the boys exchanging a look as they realised it had been where their friend was last seen heading.
"It's just a ratty curtain covering an archway," said Reg, his voice booming with false bravado. "In one side, out the other… right John?"
John, however, looked pensive. Elsie had given up trying to hold a now restless Skunk on her lap, and had pulled her friend's scruffy old stuffed toy close.
Luna continued.
"My mother knew about the veil," she said in a conspiring tone. "It called to her, too… she was not of this realm, you see." She ducked her head and peered around the room suspiciously. In a low voice that prompted the others to lean towards her, she nodded with an air of confidence. "They say that once behind the veil, you can't get back – but I know Estella will. Professor Lupin will find her and bring her back."
"Are you suggesting that Professor Lupin's going to go behind that thing, voluntarily, to look for her?" said John, slack-jawed. "Even if you knew for sure that's what was going to happen, what makes you think it would work?"
"Because he's a werewolf, remember?" said Luna simply. "If anyone can find her, he can. They've bonded, you know…"
"Uh, right," said Reg, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. No one even knew for sure if a werewolf could find someone they cared about in their human form, let alone if their former professor was even contemplating such an expedition. He looked to his friend for back up.
"Well okay, then," said John, picking up where his friend left off. "Say Professor Lupin considered doing something like that, how would he get Estella back once he found her?"
"-That's assuming she's even behind this doorway, or veil, or whatever it is," added Elsie sceptically, her hands compulsively stroking through the matted fur on the small black dog's torso as though it were a real animal.
Luna ignored their disbelief and shook her head slowly, the unassuming Ravenclaw coming to turns with her own measure of disbelief.
"Estella will call Fawkes, of course," she said airily. "Phoenixes are not of this realm, either."
One by one, the three teenagers opened their mouth to dispute Luna's conclusion. The whole idea that Estella had fallen beyond a veil whose purpose was unknown, even to the Ministry, and could be extracted by the lupine senses of her godfather and rescued by a bird sounded like something people were accustomed to associating with The Quibbler's by-line. In a word, unsubstantiated myth and legend. Yet as they watched the quirky, loner Ravenclaw put away her father's letter and excuse herself, muttering something about asking Peeves for her Butterbeer corks back, they could not entirely dismiss the idea.
Severus transfigured his robes back into their original form and stared up at the school gates with an unreadable expression. After nearly three decades of either being a student or teacher within its walls, it seemed almost surreal to be looking upon its entrance for what could well be the last time.
Once inside the sanctity of his private rooms, he pulled his mask from a pocket in his robes and cast it aside, crossing the room in purposeful strides and collapsing into his chair to wait. The subject of the meeting was of no surprise to Severus; Draco Malfoy had succeeded in his task of securing an unexplored access to the school, and the Dark Lord was not about to dally. A contingent of lower-level minions was set to be dispatched to the school before the night was through, with a number of higher ranking supporters laying in wait around the boundaries of the school's wards. It was anticipated that the ineptitude of the less-experienced Death Eaters would make it seem as though the attack on the school was a fluke; a raid planned and executed without the full force of Voldemort's wrath. Severus' role, therefore, was to remain in his quarters until called upon to help defend the school; upon which time it was his duty to exploit his authority as a professor by staging a mass evacuation of the school, sending them directly into the path of the second force.
Flicking his wand towards the fireplace irritably, Severus slammed closed the grate and sat in the dark, relishing the silence whilst it lasted. Had he his niece to consider, his first instinct was to warn Dumbledore; but as he magically lit the lamps around him, lighting the room gradually so as to not affect his eyes, he noted the convenience of the man's absence. Should the man have still been on school grounds, a part of him would have been inclined to confide in the man purely out of habit – there were, after all, the lives of all the students to consider, and he was a man, not a monster. But Dumbledore was absent, and Estella was gone; what reason did he have to be compassionate? What could he possibly have to gain by saving someone else's child when the only child he'd ever truly cared about had been taken from him so unforgivingly? So accustomed to shielding his emotion from everyone around him, he was no longer sure of how to identify what he was feeling… perhaps if other people could feel his pain for themselves, they would understand. She would understand.
If she were here.
"Hush… shhhh… that's it, let it all go…" said Remus soothingly, rocking the sobbing child in his arms, his own face lined with emotion.
A big sniffle, and a pause Remus had long since come to associate with his goddaughter's wry grin.
"Y'know…" another sniff. "You just…" a hiccup. "You just contradicted yourself!"
"I aim to please," said Remus congenially. At this point he would normally smile warmly at his goddaughter to reassure her, but given their current lack of light and their inability to see each other, even at close range, he couldn't help but frown.
"Stop frowning," said Estella suddenly, dissolving into sobs again. "D-d-don't even try to tell me that it'll be all right…"
Knowing that he could not re-assure the girl in his arms without first lying to himself, Remus was close to succumbing to his own feelings of helplessness, but held strongly to his resolve; it would do Estella no help if he broke down. Not trusting his voice, he held the girl closer and started to hum tunelessly into her hair.
"Uncle Moony…" said Estella in a small voice, calling Remus by an endearment she'd not used in a long time. "It's okay… I'm old enough to know that adults have feelings too. You don't have to pretend to be strong for my benefit."
Remus chuckled mirthlessly, a few tears escaping uncontrollably. Feeling the dam within him about to burst, he sighed in relief at the girl's consent.
"Yes," he said, trying to keep up morale despite the heavy weight of despair clouding his mind. "We all know your uncle is the master of that domain…"
It was not the right thing to say. Faced with what her uncle would likely be going through in her absence, the intuitive girl broke into a fresh round of hysterics. Unable to think of anything that would placate the devastated girl, Remus released the floodgates and joined his goddaughter in her grief.
Emboldened by her godfather's unencumbered display of emotion – the man's own fears giving weight to her own – Estella began to perk up.
"Y'know," she said, sightlessly blowing into the handkerchief Remus spirited from a pocket in his robes when he had anticipated her next bout of sniffling. "If we actually had solid ground beneath our feet, we'd be drowning in our tears by now…"
"Now look who's contradicting themselves…" quipped Remus, his slow smile broken by his gasp of surprise when his feet hit something solid.
"Do… do you think we've hit the bottom?" whispered Estella, tightening her hold on his robes.
Remus tensed, his entire body on alert. Neither of them had noticed when the peripheral noise from within the veil and beyond had given way to silence.
"Something's happening," he whispered back, returning the hold as a slight wind picked up around them, bringing with it the sound of a Phoenix's song.
END CHAPTER.
A/N: This time, next week... only two chapters left now :-(
