Chapter 9 ~ Brethren
"The first casualty of war is innocence."
~ Unknown
ECOTS
Somewhere, far off, somebody groaned.
And it was right about then, when the pain started, that she realized she was not dead.
Despite her pounding head, Tonks had enough energy to be surprised.
Her eyes opened to find a pair of pale gray eyes staring straight down at her, buried beneath a thick lair of soot.
"Were alive..." she groaned quietly, for lack of anything else to say to the boy she had tackled moments earlier.
The kid nodded mutely, an apologetic look on his face as he stared unblinkingly at her, holding up a chunk of her grayish hair.
Merlin I left my hair that color didn't I? she thought fuzzily, scrunching up her nose to let that part of her scalp re-grow.
Perhaps that was the wrong course of action, because a second later she wound up with a bloodied chunk of hair on her face, black roots and all, and the kid was staring at her in mounting horror.
"Magic trick," she grumbled, sitting up gingerly.
She wished she hadn't.
Hell on Earth surrounded her.
She had been in battles before.
She had been injured before.
Never before had she realized what damage a homemade bomb could do to such a small group of people.
"Merlin mercy..." she mumbled, clutching the boy's arm. She didn't know if it was to reassure herself or him.
She rapidly settled on both; definitely both.
For the boy's part he continued to stare straight at the ground, as if fearful to remove his eyes from the spot she had once occupied.
Shock, she realized, bringing up her free hand to wipe the moisture from her brow. She was startled when it came back blackened, flecks of already dried blood clinging to the soot she had wiped away.
Her eyes roamed, for lack of anything to do. She wasn't a total Neanderthal. She knew that if no one was trying to kill her that very second that she needed to sit still and let her bearings come back.
Or, at the very least, let the world stop spinning.
Not literally of course. Just her actual head space. She'd read somewhere that if the world actually stopped spinning around and around on its axis that a host of very bad things would happen, but the Muggle documentaryist person had said that was okay, because even if it did happen none of them would be alive to see it.
The front of Tonks head gave several sharp throbs.
Order members moved eerily through the dissipating smoke, so slow she felt as if she were watching them in slow motion upon a Muggle VCR.
But what truly got to her was the smell. It was indescribable.
"Fireworks..."
The boy had spoken, barely above a whisper. Only his close proximity allowed her to hear him as he spoke to the ground.
"It smells like them," he added, falling silent after the clarification. It puzzled her, for wizarding fireworks smelled not of this.
But he would know better than I, she realized.
She had to move. She had to help them. She didn't know what was going on anymore. What had happened was fuzzy. Tackling the boy was last and first in her memory. But the Order members, every one of them who had been positioned elsewhere in the zoo, were there.
She couldn't just keep sitting here on her rump.
She stood, pulling him up with her. She ached down to her newly forming marrow, and the added pressure of his weight on her unsteady legs was unpleasant.
But the feeling of a warm, live body in her arms was not.
Not once did the boy take his eyes from the spot on the ground, even as she began carrying him towards the outer cropping of buildings.
Only one thought was on her mind: twenty nine Order members had been in the zoo, and despite that…
They had still failed.
ECOTS
"Mummy..." Emily was whimpering now. She hated that she was, but if she didn't cry out how would her mummy hear her?
What if no one heard her?
The thought sent her into a fresh fit of tears.
The mean lady only laughed. "Do you miss your mummy little girl? Would you like to see her?"
Something was taunting about her voice. Like the boys on the playground at school when they pulled her braids, so she knew the lady was not sincere.
She stopped clawing her fingernails into the mean lady's arm long enough to reach up and feel her braids.
The crisscrossing pattern was still there, and she clutched onto that instead.
The mean lady had been dragging her since they had left the restroom, but now she stopped, shoving her in front so roughly that she lost her balance, stumbling to the ground with a terrified squeak.
She did not let go of her braid in time, and her knees hit first, before her cheek hit, skinning that.
She whimpered in pain, too afraid to call out like daddy had taught her if she were ever in trouble.
"Daddy?" she said softly, squeezing her eyes shut. Maybe when she opened her eyes he would be there.
"No not daddy. Mummy! You wanted to see her little brat, so here, LOOK!"
The lady yanked her by her braids, her whole head hurting until she moved, kneeling, but she was scared to open her eyes now. Anything the mean lady wanted was not good. She was never supposed to listen to strangers. She had tried not to go with her either, but she had been too strong.
"Open your eyes you little bitch!" the lady screamed savagely.
Pain shot across her eyelids as the lady scratched them with her long nails, and little Emily's eyes flew open.
Her mum lay less than half a dozen yards from her, looking like a risen ghost on Halloween. But beneath her purpled, raw face, blue eyes lovingly connected with her own. Something was wrong though, for her mum's eyes seemed unfocused and glassy.
The man with the silver hair kicked her face away.
"Mummy!" she screeched, horror struck, lunging to hug her. If she could hug her she could make it okay!
"Ah, ah, ah, ah..." the mean lady cooed. "Little darling your mummy is busy now. Can't you see that?"
Emily kicked out at the lady, missing, painful tears stinging her eyes. The mean lady dug her fingernails into her arm, breaking the skin and blood welled from it, trickling down her arm so fast it frightened her.
"Let go! Let go! MUMMY!" She twisted, screeching, finding her voice. It was higher than she remembered.
Mummy needed up now, she needed air. The mean man was shoving her face into the puddle the rain had left the night before. Her mummy didn't like water.
"MUMMY!"
ECOTS
"I swear in the name of MERLIN if you three don't KNOCK IT OFF I will do more than just BODY BIND YOU! UNDERSTAND?"
Kalliandra couldn't profess to know Hermione well, but she was pretty sure the girl was livid.
A strange tickling sensation flooded her and she found her limbs again. Kally was on her hands and knees quickly, but a wand was already in her face.
"Don't move."
Such was the authority in Hermione's voice that she actually nodded.
Plus, all things considering, Hermione hadn't actually freed Weasley or Potter yet. So if the girl trusted her enough to not act the fool, she would not.
Angry as she was.
Hermione had crossed the room to stand right in front of Potter.
"Harry, so help me if you promise not to accuse, attack, or maim anyone in this room I will unbind you. And since you can't answer me I will assume you agree, because you do not want to know what I will do if you go back on the word I just made for you."
She wasn't sure she exactly followed what Hermione had said, but the girl's wand swished and flicked and jabbed and then Potter was free, moving his limbs testingly on the floor.
Once he established they actually worked, his first order of business was to kick her chunk of hair, the one he'd ripped out, away.
Ron was next.
"I can't believe you. You stunnedme!" Ron grunted, shoving himself up.
"You deserved it Ronald." Hermione said it matter-of-factly, before moving to stand between the three of them, right in front of Dumbledore's desk. Her dark eyes darted from person to person, the witch hissing a frustrated breath that sent a stray curl flying. "Now, if you three are done acting like first years I think we have some things to straighten out."
Ron was still gaping unintelligently. "But you stunned us..."
"And if I hadn't Professor Dumbledore would no longer have a head office," Hermione snapped. "Not to mention Kalliandra wouldn't have a head."
Kally took great offense to that implication, but restrained her thoughts to a mere grunt. Besides, the witch was probably right. Potter and his twit friend had wands. Actual wands, that worked. She sure as hell had nothing to even remotely compare.
Ron made a disgruntled sound, straightening up to his full height, and the glare he shot her had her taking a quick, swift step backwards.
A loud slam jerked her attention back to Potter, who was staring right at her.
"Death Eaters don't deserve a head," he growled, from his spot on the ground.
Shit. She seriously needed to figure out what a Death Eater was.
Hermione shook her head disbelievingly. "Harry don't be ridiculous. Kally can't be a Death Eater. She's a student and she's in Gryffindor for starts."
"Pettigrew was too, Mione."
Hermione's words died in her throat at Weasley's rebuttal.
Maybe Dumbledore could do that obliviation thing to all of them? All three of them would forget this ever happened. Either way though, Kally figured she wasn't going to last long in here if she didn't do something to clear this up.
And clear it up quick.
"Not to be rude, or anything," she muttered, "but if you are going to accuse me of things perhaps you could stop speaking in code so I could, oh I don't know, actually follow the conversation?"
All eyes snapped in her direction.
"Unless you'd prefer to just curse me again," she said, making an exasperated gesture.
"I'd love t-" Weasley stopped short as a deeper, almost amused voice, cut him off.
"While I realize that my office was outdated, I had no idea the four of you were so interested in redecorating. Tell me, have you dabbled in woodwork? I am rather afraid that table of mine may need some refurbishments."
"Headmaster I can explain..." Hermione started.
Kalliandra interrupted her. "Remus?" she asked urgently, forgetting all else.
Dumbledore's mildly amused expression vanished. "I am not sure this is the best time to-"
"Lupin? Remus Lupin?" Potter demanded, his dark eyes shifting to look straight at her. "What happened?" For a second he seemed to hesitate, his fist clenching, and then-
He took an abrupt step forward, towards her, only for Hermione to snag him by the back of the shirt.
Dumbledore's white eyebrows arched so high that they actually disappeared beneath his oversized hat. "I do not believe that is your concern, Harry."
Potter shrugged Hermione off, looking like he wanted to say more, only…
He didn't.
Though the stiffening of his shoulders and the thin line of his mouth revealed the extent of his anger.
"Her concern is as legitimate as is yours, Harry," Dumbledore added with a meaningful look, before crossing the room to place a fatherly hand on Hermione's shoulder.
Her entire body relaxed, her reproachful look vanishing as she crumpled in front of them, turning away for the shelter that only the high back of a chair could provide.
It wasn't until Hermione had disappeared into the chair that it hit her.
Something serious had been going on when she had entered, and perhaps that had something to do with their insanity.
And for the first time since she had met Potter, she felt she actually deserved his punishing glare.
ECOTS
Kenneth Bothan squeezed the softball in confusion, understandably confused about why a group of 'wizards' had just handed him something so odd. He looked up at them, pain etched in his features. "But my daughter is still..."
Remus' heart went out to the President as his port-key was activated, causing him to disappear, mid-sentence.
It was a nasty thing to do to a man whose family was still missing.
"We're looking for them..." Remus whispered, hoping they would find them. A team, led by Spruner, had already been dispatched to search for the President's family, yet Remus had little hope.
It was one thing to stage an attack in Muggle-fashion. It was an entirely different thing to kidnap a Muggle in the old-fashioned way.
If the President's family were still alive, they had probably been taken elsewhere via portkey, and they hadn't the slightest idea of where to begin looking.
But he wasn't about to take that fact for granted, despite what Spruner and the others thought.
Remus intended to search every area of the zoo that wasn't already being combed, but first, he needed to find Tonks, if only to assuage his screaming nerves.
The relief he felt upon spotting her was incalculable. Silently he thanked God, the gods, whomever the maker was for that. Her endless dribble might annoy him to no end, but the thought of not having that annoyance was too much to contemplate.
It was something he did not want to contemplate.
She had to leave though. That was evident from the moment he spotted her, judging by the awkward gait she was taking. Even with her natural clumsiness the child in her arms would not throw off her balance that dangerously. She was hurt. It was obvious. Her injuries from the battle in the Department of Mysteries were still healing, and now this.
"Infernal woman," he muttered, heading towards her.
She was too headstrong for her own good. She'd collapse at this rate, and if there were Death Eaters still here he wasn't going to risk her being harmed. Not again. He had promised Sirius that much.
ECOTS
Bellatrix...
The name came crashing into her consciousness like a brick hurtled from a tenth story window.
She stopped, leaning hard against the side of the building, the boy, Patrick, still held tightly within her arms, as the name attacked her memory.
The blow to her head had driven certain details from her mind, but one had come back.
"You have to get them out of here!" she shouted suddenly, covering Patrick's ears as she screamed across the crowd, hoping the other Order members could hear. "They could still be here!"
Such was the din that only Mundungus and Kingsley heard her. The pace of things was quick as Order members winked in and out of existence, transporting the Muggles to safety, but they needed to move faster.
Only they already were moving as fast as physically safe for the wounded.
But she had to do something. Those left couldn't wait any longer.
She shifted Patrick's heavy burden to one hip and dug in her pocket for her portkey.
"Patrick, I'm going to get you away from here okay?"
The boy didn't respond. She was amazed to have gotten so much as a name from him in their short walk together, but she knew he had heard.
She set him down and withdrew her velvety pouch. She paused, letting it slide silkily through her fingers, appreciating the small reminder that there were pleasant things outside of bloody war zones.
"Patrick, I want you to hold your hand out for me, like this." She took his hand, moving it palm up. "Now close your eyes for me, and I promise you'll be with people you know when you open them." She sincerely hoped it was not a lie. There was no way of knowing if those he knew had survived or not. But if they had, Order Headquarters was where they would be.
Patrick looked up blankly as she undid the string to the small bag.
"Just close your eyes," she said softly, watching his lids flicker shut. She smiled genuinely, tilting the contents of the pouch into his outstretched hand, glad that at least one child would be seen safely away.
As the grains hit his bare palm his eyes opened, barely registering surprise before he vanished.
"Tonks!"
She smiled wearily as Remus ran up to her.
He skidded to a stop, looking worse for the wear, his eyes scanning her disapprovingly. Suddenly she felt like a naughty student caught in a closet doing something disreputable.
Well, he had been a Professor. There were so many lovely ways she could twist that-
Her head gave a very hard, very distinct throb. With a wince she lifted her hand to find the source.
Remus caught her hand halfway there, his expression drawn. "Let me see."
She batted him away. "Remus, I'm fine. I just have a headache is all."
The look he gave her all but confirmed that she looked like shit. Absolute and positive shit.
To add insult to injury her head gave another woozy sort of throb, and Tonks closed her eyes for a second, murmuring, "Merlin, Wolfy, really know how to make a girl feel small doncha?"
Now he just scoffed. "Come on, Tonks, let's get you out of here."
Her brow furrowed reflexively and she winced from the surprising amount of pain it caused. "Leave? Oh hell no." She took a dizzying step back. "Remus, Bellatrix is here."
His brow creased instantly, and for a moment he was silent amidst the cacophony of sounds. People were still shouting, the pops of apparition loud and obvious, but amidst it all Remus did what he did sodding best.
He believed her, without bloody question.
"Bellatrix?" he asked, frowning. "Tonks, you're sure?"
"Well if not then that birthday cake was laced with something better than what the MLE confiscated and has in its evidence lockers." She stopped, spotting his look. "I mean yes I'm sure."
Remus looked like he was developing a headache himself. "I'll have questions about that, later." He glanced around the decimated scene, several pieces of horticulture burning merrily near the twisted bars of the lemur cage. "So you didn't just run off," he said, as if to himself.
She shot him an extra special sort of look. "There was a bomb, Remus," she said. "Of course I took off. I saw her. She was right behind that little Muggle imp-"
Remus frowned. "You mean Emily?"
"-and looked far too happy. She was here! She might still be here!" She looked around, voice rising and urgent. "We need to get the rest of the Muggles out of here in case she's planning something else. I always did hate that aunt. Absolutely no sense of humor and gave the worst presents at Christmas."
"I thought you were disowned?"
"I was. Didn't mean I still didn't get the occasional cursed, shrunken head in the post."
"Explains so much," he muttered, but Remus already had his wand out, a hand dropping firmly onto her upper arm as he scanned the area. "I'll alert the others and we'll search for her. But you need to head back to headquarters so Angelina can check you out."
"Like hell I am!"
He shot her an unamused look of his own. "You were in an explosion, Tonks."
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"You look," he pressed, "like you sustained a gratuitous beating."
She snorted in as unladylike a fashion as possible. "Me? Look at yourself, Wolfy. It's like you recently recovered from a bout of mange." No one, absolutely no one was going to tell her she wasn't recovered. She was, and that was that, because she had to be. Her aunt was here, and she had a bone to pick with her. A great big T-rex sized bone, that she was going to bash her over the head with.
Clearly Remus hadn't heard her, the wizard talking to himself. "Where's your portkey?"
"I sent a kid back with it," she said, guileless.
His jaw dropped. "You what? Why didn't you go with him Tonks!" he groaned, pulling her towards him. "Look, it doesn't matter. You can catch a ride with one of the other groups leaving. You're in no shape to apparate back."
"I'm not going anywhere," she protested, yanking her arm back. Any other day she'd love to be manhandled by him, but not now. Not here. Clearly the man didn't understand the concept of 'righteous vengeance.' She'd explain it to him later. She'd make sure to use small and simple words so she didn't explode his poor, aging brain. "My aunt did this, Remus! Call me bloody old fashioned but I'm pretty sure that means I need to bloody well end it!"
Hazel eyes looked at her like she'd gone barmy. For a second he even seemed to consider it.
Then his jaw set and he shook his head. "No. You can bring her to justice, but it won't be today."
He had that expression, that oh-so-sexy one that promised he was about to do something terribly safe and responsible.
She jumped back, nearly tripping, shaking her head. "Wolfy I'm sorry about this, but I can't waste time arguing with you."
He'd barely opened his mouth to argue when she's spun, the world compressing into a tiny tube that was far too pressurized for her aching, aching head. There was a loud POP, and in a moment she had apparated. At random. Within the zoo's boundaries.
It was a marvel she didn't wind up in the crocodile tank.
She didn't. Instead she re-appeared on wonderfully solid, flat ground, a flurry of flamingos scattering and sending bright pink and white feathers molting into the air. She'd landed just outside their enclosure.
Tonks head throbbed and she gasped for lost breath. She was actually surprised at how hard that had been. Maybe Remus had been right: she was more injured than she had realized.
"Merlin I need a long lie down after this," she muttered quietly.
"That can be arranged dear niece."
ECOTS
"Damn't Tonks!" he swore, the edge of panic gnawing at him as he took off at a run.
She couldn't have gotten far, not with that gash to the head. Tonks had looked bad. She had looked extremely bad, pale and unbalanced. It'd be a small miracle if he didn't find her splinched somewhere.
Knowing her infernal luck, he'd probably find the cheetah gnawing on her leg and the rest of her making friends with a nice, safe hoard of venomous lizards.
"Kingsley!" he bellowed, catching the Head Auror's attention. "She's rogue!"
The bald man's face went dark, the man's forehead vein twitching as he jabbed a large hand South, indicating he'd check in that direction.
Remus shot him a grateful nod and went North.
Tonks had looked even worse close up than he'd originally thought, and it didn't take a genius to figure out how long she'd last in a duel with even a mediocre Death Eater, let alone her aunt. And that thought….
The sense of urgency in him felt like a bottled concoction ready to burst, Remus scanning the area and cursing when he didn't find her.
Tonks didn't have a port key. He severely doubted she'd have the strength to apparate again. She had no way of escape if she actually succeeded in finding her aunt and picking a fight.
He had to find her and find her now.
And then he would strangle her.
"TONKS!"
ECOTS
"That can be arranged dear niece."
Keeping to their family tradition of murder attempts first and 'hi, how-do-ya-do's' later, her aunt flung a bright purple curse at her back.
Tonks barely shouted the shielding charm in time. In truth, it was more like a yelp. The curse slammed into it, reverberating, and to her surprise it sprung off her shield, rebounding violently and striking a metal chair like a ping pong game gone wrong.
That poor, innocent, unsuspecting metal chair shattered into a dozen sharp projectiles. The back of the chair had been wrought iron, curved and bent into the shape of an elephant, and as that artesian's work shattered, those metal shards flung out beneath the restaurant's trellis.
The explosion shook the air and the last of the brave flamingos scattered, the sea lions groaning, and Tonks clamped her hands over her ears and let out an angry growl. "Aunt Bella what the hell!?"
The dark witch smirked a cruel, unaffected smile, her yellow-white teeth glinting in the sun.
But her blood relation held off on hexing again, that her apparent way of saying hello.
But those teeth…
Dear Merlin she hoped that wasn't hereditary.
Tonks rose to her feet – at some point she'd ducked but she didn't remember doing so – and found that her legs were concerningly shaky. She ignored that. She was on-guard. She was paranoid. She was pissed as she drank in the awful, awful sight.
That awful sight was a gaunt, thin mass of dark hair, that looked rather like an obscuris had exploded on someone's head. Either that or someone had forgotten to do the dishes and left them too long, and a whole new and frightening species of fungus had emerged and taken root on her aunt's head.
Bellatrix Lestrange stood there looking rather triumphant, a cruel and vicious smirk on her lips. And in that bitch's grip was a small girl, the little red head weeping bitterly, struggling, blood trickling down her arms and soaking her shirt sleeves where Bellatrix's sharp and pointed nails dug into her skin.
Tonks followed that little girl's desperate gaze, and found the quivering form of a woman collapsed on the ground. The woman's body was still twitching from whatever had been done to her – and knowing her aunt it was nothing good – and the poor auburn haired Muggle let out a sputtering, watery cough as if half-drowned.
Tonks recognized her instantly; she'd seen the woman's photos in their pre-mission briefings.
The Irish President's wife.
Bellatrix smiled gauntly, contorting her wretched face into a vision from the most haunting of nightmares.
Marie Bothan's body spasmed.
The poor woman's auburn hair was sprawled chaotically about her head, blending with the blood and puddled water. She'd stopped coughing, the woman's body twitching spasmodically now, like a fish freshly caught and left on a ship's deck.
Carrion pigeons lingered, approaching the dying woman with cautious hops of their three-pronged feet, their claws clicking upon the ground as they moved to investigate the rich, bloodied scent of death.
Emily let out an unearthly wail, accompanied by a fresh round of kicking.
Marie's head wound, part of the woman's skull sunken in, explained why the woman still seemed alive, yet not.
She was in the death throes of an unfixable head injury.
Tonks shook with fury, her wand snapping up to aim at her aunt. "Let. Her. Go."
Bellatrix smiled even wider. "The corpse of the child, my dear? Or did you filthy Mudblood father never teach you to be specific?"
Tonks teeth set and she practically growled. "Both."
"What do you care for these pathetic," she yanked Emily's head back, evicting a shriek as her braid pulled on her scalp, "Muggles anyway? They're even more freakish than you." The bitch looked at Emily as if she were a horrible insect in need of swatting, before turning her crazed gaze back to her. "But at least, dear niece, your traits could prove useful. Didn't you notice how I haven't tried to actually kill you yet darling?"
Tonks practically shook, staring her down. "Let me guess, ole Voldemort wants a makeover? He's having a midlife crisis and thinking a new hair color might really mix up his style and attract the ladies? What caused it? Receding hairline? Incurable impotency? The Muggle dealer didn't have that shiny red corvette he always coveted?"
Bellatrix laughed, and laughed coldly. "Oh niece, you'll come to regret that."
ECOTS
Remus questioned his preference in friends.
And the moment Tonks started prattling on about 'incurable impotency' he questioned his position on throttling.
Violence had never been his way, but the blight on this earth known as Nymphadora Tonks, who he, at some low point in his life had befriended, seemed bound and determined to send him into an early grave.
Typically he was so much calmer, but he was rapidly realizing that Tonks could drive even a Tibetian monk to homicide.
He had found her. Oh had he found her, and he could hear every word of her and arguably the most dangerous witch of their time's friendly chat.
The better hearing was a fringe benefit of having impure blood. It was perhaps the only benefit of being a werewolf. And until that moment he'd never had much use for it, but given that it had just aided him in 'Tonks hunting', and hopefully in saving her from doing something asininely stupid – as she was prone to – he was suddenly glad for it.
He'd tracked her clear across the zoo.
If he didn't hate the bastard so much, he'd have considered sending Fenrir Greyback a thank you note.
He followed the sound of her voice. Just because he could hear Tonks didn't mean he could see her yet. He slunk around the Lakeside Restaurant. He pressed himself flat against the building, staying hidden from view as his senses adjusted.
And then he followed them. He could hear them, and he could also smell them.
He also smelled something unbelievably foul.
Remus crept around the building until he reached the trash depository. The stench only got worse, and cursing all things metamorphmagus and praying he wouldn't have to literally crawl into it, he squinted as he peered through the gap.
And then he saw her.
Bellatrix.
Bellatrix Lestrange stood there with her arms clenched around a small girl. The witch's once majestic face was sunken, near holes framing her sockets. Dead black eyes were fixed in the direction that Tonks had to be, and at Bellatrix's feet….
Kenneth Bothan's wife lay twitching, dying, her hair curved in at an awkward angle.
Suddenly he knew where the foul, noxious smell was coming from.
As Marie Bothan's higher brain functions slowly gave out, the woman had soiled herself.
He tore his eyes from her. There was nothing that could be done for her now.
Tonks stepped into view, her eyes alight with fury, holding her cousin's corrupted gaze.
"Funny thing about that, Auntie, but I don't tend to regret things. Kingsley's always harping on me about it. Apparently I've got 'inhibition' issues, or something." The metamorphmagus grinned like a jackal. "Can't imagine where I got that from."
There was nothing funny about this situation, yet Tonks stood there cracking jokes.
His eyes scanned the area. A shuffling noise had caught his attention, distracting him from the two women for a moment. His shackles raised and his pupils dilated, looking, searching….
Sparrows took flight, vacating the area in a flurry of wings. Raw magical power thrummed on the air, radiating between the two relatives, and Remus fought to ignore it, searching for what he'd heard.
That was when he saw it. A coy grin had crept across Bellatrix's destroyed face, as if she knew something Tonks didn't.
Remus' head jerked, following her gaze.
Directly behind Tonks a head of silvery hair had emerged from the shrubs, the end of the wizard's wand glowing a foul, acrid green.
The Killing Curse.
Lucius Malfoy caught his eyes, as if he'd known he'd been there all along, and smirked.
And then the Death Eater began to form the words that would rip Tonks from him.
Seeing the wand aimed at Tonks' back, seeing the killing curse being formed, Remus felt like something had been torn out of him.
Magic, raw and primal, burst out of his wand before he had even formed the words for a spell. Red light exploded, blinding the entire area, it slamming in Malfoy's direction.
But the dark wizard and him were separated by no less than twenty meters; that gave his opponent time.
Malfoy used it. He sidestepped his curse as easily as if it were a mere stone, thrown by a toddler.
But it stopped him mid-syllable, and the unforgiveable curse flickered out with a sputter.
For some reason this seemed to make Malfoy smile even more.
Remus didn't. Thrusting his wand between the building's wall and the trash depository he let another spell tear loose, before he transfigured the industrial-sized trash bin into a bowling ball to get it out of the way. He leapt over it, hurtling across the open space, and that was the cue for all hell to break loose.
Bellatrix Lestrange threw the girl to the side and let out a cackle as cold as he'd ever heard, Tonks wand lighting up, and Lucius….
Lucius threw another spell at Tonks' back, Remus barely deflecting in time before he threw another spell in the flaxen haired pureblood's direction.
Disturbingly Lucius did not appear to be fighting back.
No, he was merely deflecting, and deflecting well, backpedaling as he went with a strange and twisted smile.
The man just kept smiling.
And smiling.
And then a flash of light caught on Lucius' teeth, and Remus suddenly knew why the man had kept smiling.
Lucius had already turned and bolted.
With a last glance towards where Tonks and Bellatrix dueled he took off in pursuit, panting as the pursuit led through winding paths, animals screeching in their wake.
Caution had been thrown to the winds as he reached the lake, spotting Lucius on the far side, arms crossed, patiently waiting.
His hackles rose, the hair on the back of his neck standing straight up. Instinctively he smelled it, what awaited on the other side. The scent had drifted to him upon the wind, and it drove his blood cold.
Wolves.
Unlike James and Sirius he had never been one who'd rush into things. He was the one who would halt, reassess, dragging James and Sirius back by their shirt collars if necessary, urging them all to think before rushing in.
If Lucius' intent had been to get his attention it had certainly worked. He'd attacked Tonks and shown him fangs. Fangs in daylight, and they were not the fangs of a vampire.
No.
They were the fangs of a werewolf.
Breathing tensely he stood on the opposing bank and studied Lucius, the Malfoy merely gesturing with a hand in silent invitation.
This...it was a trap.
But it was also a threat.
The zoo was still crawling with Muggles and children, not all had been evacuated yet, and Malfoy had been rather clear that he'd use force, extreme force, if necessary.
And on the other side of the lake, their scent carried to him on the wind, Remus Lupin could smell a pack of wolves.
He could only imagine what they would do if provoked, tearing into a group of Muggles.
So right now...
Right now Remus was out of options.
With a resigned breath he apparated alongside Lucius, his wand levelled at the man's throat.
Lucius didn't bat an eye. "You followed. How utterly predictable."
The dark wizard seemed disinterested in fighting.
Remus scanned the area and spotted nothing.
But he still smelled them.
And he could hear them, rustling in the thick undergrowth. There was the lake to the South, the arctic tundra portion of the zoological park to the West, and then a thick copse of trees and bushes to the North.
The wolves were in the woods.
Lucius turned his back completely to him, as if there was nothing to fear, walking to stand beside the rough iron bars that concealed the arctic tundra area. A pale arm reached out, tracing the metal encasement carelessly. "I was marginally concerned that your weak, half-blooded side would hesitate to come. We're all too familiar with your weaknesses where those wretched Muggles are concerned."
"And here I thought of the two of us you were the wretch," he countered calmly.
"Is that so?" The man's lips curled, and Remus' blood ran cold.
What he'd seen hadn't been a hallucination or a trick of the light. Lucius Malfoy had werewolf fangs, his silver-gray eyes elongating into vertical slits.
Remus moved, side-stepping on uneven ground to keep his wand firmly trained on the man. He moved with purpose, getting his back to the lake to limit where an attack could come from.
Malfoy merely watched, as if bored. "If you think I'm wretched whatever must you think of the Muggles?" He inclined a white eyebrow, drawling, "They would skin you alive if given half a chance, Lupin."
Remus grimaced, saying not a word. He could smell them, all of them.
And he could feel their eyes on him.
Lucius crouched down, his hand beckoning a pair of gleaming eyes forth from the brush beyond the caging. Low snarls informed him that other wolves lay await just beyond his vision. He'd been right.
These were no ordinary wolves.
"So…unimaginative," Lucius drawled, "these Muggles. They're like a blight on the Earth. Using resources, posing dangers, forcing us into hiding. But the Dark Lord…he has power beyond your wildest dreams, Lupin, and he does not hate you anymore than your brethren do." He slid his long fingers beneath the rather agile-looking wolf's chin, stroking gently. "Even if your traitor-status warrants it."
His throat and chest tightened. "Hard to be a traitor when I've never agreed to any of his ideals."
"A traitor to your pack," he said, sounding bored. "You shouldn't have turned your back on Fenrir, Lupin. He would have welcomed you with open arms. He would not have judged you the way they have."
Perhaps Remus had been hanging around Tonks for too long, but he snorted in Lucius Malfoy's face. "Of course. He'd have welcomed me right after doing his best to tear out my kidney."
Lucius' fingers abandoned the wolf's snout. "Bygones. You always were short-sighted Remus, incapable of seeing the bigger picture."
Remus forced a grimace for the sake of civility. "And I suppose you're planning to educate me?"
"It is with deep regret that task falls to me." For the first time a flash of hatred flashed within Lucius Malfoy's eyes, the shadow warning him that this was the last thing his old schoolmate had wanted to do. The wizard's lips curled, his wand running along the cage bars, a flash of hot fire searing them, melting the bars into non-existence.
In the distance roused growling could be heard, and instantly Remus knew what exhibit they were outside of.
The wolves.
The regular, normal wolves.
It wouldn't be long until these wolves found their first tastes of freedom.
But that shadow in his opponent's eyes had told him all he needed to know. "This is a punishment for you, isn't it?" He let his gaze shift over the pale wizard's. "I should have known. Voldemort needed subjects to experiment on, and you never would have consented to dirty your blood. So what'd you do, Lucius? How'd you earn the bite?"
Lucius' fingers went white around his pale wand, even paler eyes flashing with fire. "I have earned my place," he said dangerously, "by his side." He paused, continuing calmly, "To be chosen was an honor."
He had half a mind to scoff 'keep telling yourself that', but kept his mouth shut, letting the wizard talk.
He had to find out what was so important that it'd had Lucius Malfoy luring him of all people in for a chat.
"You're a filthy half-blood and a flood traitor. But you were sired by Fenrir which means you get a chance. You know as well as I do that if you stay where you're at, lapping at that old man's ankles for scraps, the best you'll ever aspire to is wearing ragged robes and feeding on any scraps that Hogwarts can give you."
Remus tensed, pulse quickening.
Lucius noticed. "Hit a nerve have we?" he drawled. "It's true, Lupin. Those pathetic friends of yours have only let the Ministry continue their prejudiced laws and actions against your kind."
"Don't you mean our?" he baited.
Malfoy scowled, growling, "This is a one-time offer, Lupin, so I would advise you to consider it."
"And what's that?"
"Acceptance," Lucius growled with finality. "Join his ranks, join your rightful pack, and the Dark Lord will welcome you as if you had never sided against him." Behind him a gray wolf, fangs glinting in the sunlight, prowled past. It hovered in the newly formed gap in the bars, waiting...
Lucius looked upon the wolf, smiling, as if pleased.
"Or perhaps for one as ashamed of his blood as you have proven, a cure, to your…ailment."
"That doesn't exist."
The wolves were filing out now, one by one.
"So you say. But tell me this werewolf, do your precious mudblood lovers welcome your kind with open arms? Would they reward you for your services as my Lord will? Would they give you a place that is home and purpose? Or will they shun you as they always have? Will they condemn you to poverty and unemployment? Will they fear you and consider you tainted?" He scoffed audibly. "I think you already know which one is truth. Their Ministry…it will never change, but his Ministry…"
The wolves began circling Lucius protectively, hackles raised threateningly towards him.
Remus held his ground, the lake to his back, and he took a deep breath.
Malfoy's cold gray eyes glinted maliciously, approaching him with purposeful strides, his canine convey in tow. His words, as deliberate as his steps, came as he reached a hand down, gently stroking the alpha-male leading the pack.
"Think about it, Remus Lupin. Consider it. We are not…impatient enough to think your mind can be changed overnight. But the next time the moon rises and the pain comes, consider….having the power to change at will, to not be a slave to the night sky, to come and go as you please and not as others dictate?" His eyes glinted like liquid steel. "But think fast. The Dark Lord will not wait forever."
Remus briefly considered telling him to go to hell.
Then he realized that'd do little good.
So he merely tilted his head, asking, "Fine. Will you and your…lot leave in that case? Will you leave the Muggles here alone?"
Malfoy smirked, the sight almost cruel. "On one condition."
"And what's that?"
"That you take a parting gift."
Remus had no time to process what that was, because in an instant there was a loud pop and splash from directly behind him.
He reacted on instinct. He dove to the side, thrusting his body down at the ground faster than gravity strictly allowed. His shoulders smacked into the shallow water, splashing, and the spell aimed at his back seared just above him, crashing and exploding into the underbrush beyond.
Remus rolled upright, sending water splattering as he threw a stunner back at the assailant already in the lake.
Lucius Malfoy let out a bored sounding sigh.
Then he flicked his wand, electric blue exploding out.
It struck him directly in the chest.
Everything went hazy, the impact lifting his body and flinging it out into the water, Remus crashing down with a thunderous splash. His eyes lolled unconsciously, vaguely registering the water rising over his head.
Something bit down on his arm, tugging, swimming, pulling…
And as Remus slipped into unconsciousness he heard Lucius tisking, drawling, "You will get your wish blood traitor. Only your friends first."
The entire world went mercifully black.
ECOTS
Emily's world upended as the mean lady discarded her, thrusting her so violently away that she somersaulted hard on her head.
Her body was shaking so much she barely pushed herself up, tears blinding her. She didn't like being thrown.
"Mummy..." she whispered, spotting her mother some feet away. She began crying harder.
Her mummy was no longer twitching.
The red headed little girl crawled, her skirt catching on something and tearing, and she stumbled onto her elbows, ripping the skin a bit more. Her shirt, her brand new shirt, was already stained by the cuts on her arms.
Suddenly they stung a lot more, and she crawled, unable to stand from fright till she felt her knees reach the puddles her mummy lay in.
She fell on her, hugging her mum tightly with both arms, burying her face in her chest.
She expected her mum to stroke her hair like she always did when her tears fell, only her mum's hand lay in the shallow cold water. She couldn't like that.
Emily lifted her hand and placed it on her stomach. She slept like that; she had seen her. Surely she must be sleeping. Her mum had to be tired. She'd had a bad day too, and Emily wanted her to rest.
But she wanted her to wake up more.
"Please mum..." Emily had her mum's other arm and was shaking it, taking a close look at her mum's face for the first time since she had gotten there, and she did not like the odd tint around her lips. Maybe it was lipstick, but she had never seen her mum wear blue before. It didn't look nice.
Emily hurt everywhere. Her hands stung, her knees stung, and her elbows were yelling at her. She shook her mum so hard that the skin on the back of her own hands got torn off, ripped against the concrete. It hurt. It hurt so bad. She was soaked too, since they were sitting in a puddle. It had to be making her mum cold, and she didn't want her mum to be cold like she was.
Emily stopped hyperventilating, swallowing like her daddy had showed her to do when upset, and marveled at how wet one could get from so little water.
"GO TO HELL!"
Emily jerked away at the noise, wiping her freed hair from her eyes. Her braids were ruined so her hair was in the way. The cruel lady had yanked them and yanked them and yanked them some more, until lots of pieces had come out. Her mummy would be so sad when she woke. She'd spent almost an hour making her braids look just right.
And now the cruel lady's willowy form was towering over the nice one.
"You heard me!" the nice lady on the ground yelled, just before the mean lady's sharp pointed shoe collided with her stomach. Nice lady let out a whoosh of breath and a loud cough, as the shoe came back again.
Emily hated that shoe. It had kicked her mummy too.
"No..." She whimpered, shaking her mum again. "No..." The nice lady was the only one who could help her mummy. Emily couldn't. She didn't have enough band aids to fix the cuts on her mum, but maybe the nice lady did. But if the nice lady got cuts too...
Emily stood and ran, attaching herself to the cruel lady's leg as it reared back.
"Emily no!" the lady on the ground gasped.
Emily just had time to wonder how this stranger knew her name when the mean lady's hand struck her face hard, nearly sending her away again.
She dug her short fingernails deep. This lady had done it to her, now it was her turn.
The lady had her braid and was yanking her up. It hurt. It hurt so bad that she was seeing little black stars. She wanted it to stop.
Emily opened her mouth and bit down on the mean lady's leg, just as the mean lady's body stopped attacking her and went limp.
It was then that Emily realized that she did not like being smushed. Particularly by people who were heavier than she was, or by people in big, pointy black boots.
ECOTS
Lucius Malfoy stood before the others, a proud smirk tainting his normally severe features.
"It is done my Lord," he informed, bowing deeply. "We will see the fruits of our labors shortly." Behind him the wolves growled, displeased at their new captivity. He had taken some, for his Lord could find uses for their particular talents.
Others he had left free to roam. All the better to finish off any stray Muggle children who might have survived.
"Bellatrix has not arrived."
Lucius shuddered at the note of displeasure he heard.
"We're we not to leave those too weak to fend for themselves behind, my Lord?"
A slithering sounded besides him, and he froze, Nagini's fangs gently brushed against his leg before pulling away.
"I will see to it that she is taken care of Lucius. You may go."
Lucius rose, bowing once more before his Lord's presence, then swept swiftly from the room.
ECOTS
Tonks gaped in shock, stars swimming before her vision.
Could it really be that easy?
Emily's whimpering yanked her back to the harsh reality of their situation, and she scrambled to unearth the girl from beneath Bellatrix's limp form.
She'd hit her aunt with the killing curse.
Tonks had never used it before. Yet somehow she had expected it to feel more...
More something. What that something was she didn't know. Problem was she didn't feel much of anything, only a distinct and total emptiness that was a little unnerving.
She yanked her aunt's leg off the little girl, in the interest of not letting little Emily Bothan be permanently smushed.
Emily's arms flailed, fighting off an invisible foe as Tonks pulled her free.
"Shh, it's okay now. It's okay..."
This little girl had saved both their lives, she realized, cradling the child's bruised face in her shoulder. Emily's arms seemed so thin, so fragile, and her tiny hands squeezed her around the neck tightly.
Tonks was pretty sure her own body sucked, because it had started shaking. It had started to traitorously shake, as if it were scared and coming down off an adrenaline high.
The small child now appeared to be trying to strangle her with her arms, and with a choked gasp Tonks hugged the child back just as tightly.
Then she fumbled for her wand, sending warning sparks into the sky to attract help. They were going to need it.
She must have collapsed after that, because the next thing she remembered was Emily's frightened pleas for her to wake as Kingsley revived her, and her boss' very large forehead vein.
Once again it appeared to be twitching.
ECOTS
"Headmaster the..." Snape marched through Dumbledore's door, smacking Crusantheus on the way in, only to stop short as the destroyed shelving nearly tripped him.
He was quick to recover, throwing a stern look towards where she and Potter remained seated on the floor. "Headmaster I suggest we speak outside."
Dumbledore barely batted an eye. He had been showing Hermione some Muggle game called cat's cradle for the past few minutes, and for her part, she had seemed interested.
"That will be unnecessary Severus. Anything to be said on the matter can be said in front of these students. I trust them implicitly."
Kally heard a distinct snort from Potter's direction. She ignored it. For a change her attention was riveted on Professor Snape. Dumbledore had flat out refused to answer any of their questions, choosing to remain perched atop his desk, preaching patience.
She really wasn't a fan of patience.
Snape stiffened. "Very well. The rest have arrived at London Headquarters and Spruner has dispatched a faction to dissuade the Muggle Press."
Dumbledore nodded. "Then that is where we must go."
"Is Remus there?" She sounded only a little desperate, her eyes darting from Snape to Dumbledore pleadingly.
Snape looked down his nose and glowered. "You impudent little-"
"That will be enough, Severus."
Snape stopped mid-stride, clenching his fist upon closed air. She could see his disappointment. He had been hoping to close it around her head.
"Harry, Kalliandra, perhaps the two of you should accompany us to Grimmauld? I suspect a certain former Professor may be somewhat eager to see you both."
"What about us?" Weasley demanded, abruptly standing.
Dumbledore paused, considering the red head's request with a long stare down his bended nose. "I would perhaps feel better Ronald if someone were to stay here with Hermione."
Weasley's mouth opened to emit further protest, but it was too much rebellion in one day for Snape.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley. If you argue with the Headmaster again it will be detention."
Weasley's jaw snapped shut like a viper.
"Well now that that is settled," Dumbledore said, giving Hermione's shoulder a squeeze, "we must make haste."
As if sensing this, a small compartment rose forth from the surface of his desk. Dumbledore waggled his wand and its contents, a small velvety bag, levitated into his hand where he began kneading it's contents curiously.
"Ms. Granger," He said, continuing his odd inspection. "You may stay here as long as you wish. Today my office is yours. You are also exempt from classes for the day."
Hermione nodded miserably as Dumbledore stalked between them, beckoning them to rise.
Kally scrambled to her feet as quickly as the books surrounding her would allow.
"Professor Snape I trust that you will see they are unbothered."
Snape grunted unhappily.
Dumbledore choose to ignore it. "Now, hold out your hands," he said, as Potter came to stand before her.
She extended hers besides his own outstretched one, careful to not touch his skin as a pale violet dust poured out, moving as within an hourglass. She watched it flow down, ignoring Potter's dangerously green eyes, which dared hers to look back.
The grainy substance felt cool against her hand, and some spilled over from Potter's into her own as he shifted in place. Asides from that, he was unnaturally steady.
"Now shut your eyes..."
A slow tickling graced the nape of her neck, a growing tug behind her navel reminiscent of a port key, only this was far gentler…
As easily as she had slipped into it she slipped out, her eyes snapping open in a cavernous foyer. She blinked hesitantly, noting Potter's lack of surprise at the dark paneling surrounding them.
"Interesting port key," he said, tilting his hand to discard the sandy material.
"A safer medium was necessary," Dumbledore said. "Rather than just touching something, we have been trying to find more creative ways to activate port keys. It makes it harder for those we do not trust to decipher their true usage." He offered a grandfatherly smile. "It would be somewhat awkward if a student were to find themselves in the midst of an Order meeting, after all."
Potter's eyes shot to hers, something dark and conflicted as he looked at her. It was like being caught in a predator's gaze, one that wasn't friendly.
Her hand absently reached for her collarbone, Sean's ring usually loosely hanging, strung from a shoestring necklace, but it wasn't there. Nothing to touch, to fiddle with. The loss was like a sharp knife to her stomach, it surprisingly difficult to talk.
So she didn't.
Potter's gaze followed her fingers path, his brow creasing down as if conflicted.
There was a clatter.
Kally jumped slightly, but Potter didn't so much as flinch. He just released a less than happy breath, his gaze sharpening past straight her and to the far end of the foyer.
"MUDBLOODS! BLOOD TRAITORS!"
The thunderous voice crashed through the hall, followed by a screech so high it physically hurt to hear. It was like hearing a psychopath screaming in a raw, undiluted rage. The sound rose and rose and rose, Kally's eardrums feeling ready to burst. She slammed her hands over them, and spun to see what it was, nearly knocking into Potter.
Her heel caught on an uneven floorboard, and then she actually did knock into him.
Two hands caught her shoulders and the fingers dug in, like an electric shock to her flesh. She hissed a breath and so did he, but the hard, firm grip didn't let her go. It held her there, steadying her as she physically shrank back away from the noise, forgetting for a half second that this was Potter.
The voice came from a portrait the size of the wall. The frame shook and rattled, dust crumbling down from the drywall as a horrid looking face contorted every wrinkled line, fixing its gaze right onto her.
"THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS! IT SHALL CRUMBLE UPON ITS FOUNDATIONS BEFORE IT ALLOWS MORE OF THOSE FILTHY MUGGLES ENTRANCE..."
The wizard's hands stiffened around her shoulders, Kally shuddering, her skin practically burning beneath his hands, and for a half second she didn't hate him quite so much.
With a breath she shrugged cautiously away, catching a glimpse of his expression. Potter wasn't looking at her, but his jaw was set, every line of his face contorting into something so full of hate that she physically shivered in response.
The portrait pulled at the edges of its canvas with such veracity that the curtains framing it blew as if caught in a mighty breeze. It pulled and shook and screamed madly, and Kally swore Potter's eyes darkened, flashing with more than anger.
Something about it evoked a memory better left buried, and perhaps that was why she spun around, screaming at that…that thing.
"Shut up will you!?"
The portrait lost its mad mind. "MUDBLOOD! OUT! OUT, OUT, OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
"Now Walburga," Dumbledore said in a voice so calm and relaxed it was clear he was well used to this. "We've discussed this behavior."
Kally looked from him to the portrait, then against her better judgement glanced back at Potter. He still stood there, one hand remaining suspended in the air where he'd held onto her shoulder, those fingers now curled into a hard fist.
It was as if he hadn't even noticed.
Dumbledore was speaking, but the portrait screeched over him. "GET THAT THING OUT OF MY HOUSE! NO INHUMAN, MUDBLOOD TAINT SHALL DARE SET FOOT IN THE HOUSE OF BLACK! THAT THING AND ITS FILTHY MUGGLE PARENTS CAN ROT! IT SHOULD BE DESTROYED! THAT THING NEEDS EXTERMINATED-"
Her internal organs all seemed to riot at once, twisting into a painful knot.
It was like everything slowed down. She heard the word 'inhuman'. She understood it was talking about her. She realized that it, like the rest of the wizarding world, thought she should be destroyed. She understood that it somehow knew her parents were dead.
She also understood that she'd snatched up a paperweight from the nearby entrance table. She didn't remember doing it. She just remembered that the cool weight of the glass felt good in her hand.
And then she felt something deep inside her painfully snap.
She threw it across the room before she'd realized she'd even done it.
The glass shattered, lodging within the canvas. The vile witch recoiled, clawing at her painted face, screeching something about beauty and Mudbloods and killing the foul filth.
It hurt. It hurt. A dozen images flashed through her mind – darkness and bloodied water and mud – and it was all she could do to stay standing because it hurt. Kally stood there on unsteady legs, feeling them ready to buckle, barely able to breathe. Her skin was tingling. This woman…this witch in the portrait, she was like those people in masks.
She was like the ones that had come for her and like the ones on the train. She was like the ones that hunted people for sport. They gassed entire trains and took who they wanted. They tore people out of their beds, tossing them onto their front lawns before hexing them down again and again and again, tracing twisted, searing patterns into their skin with the red hot end of their wands, before shoving them face down in the mud to drown.
She felt sick, nauseous. That familiar tingling, that awful and horrible tingling was trailing over her skin, Kally feeling her eyes practically burn.
Had she cared to look, had she known about it, she would have noticed the flickering behind her irises, subtle magic there for anyone who cared enough to look.
That horrible portrait snarled at her, but then it stopped. It blinked, its screams silenced for the briefest of seconds as it glowered at her.
And then something akin to comprehension shone upon its face.
That painted, horrible witch disappeared behind her rusted frame so fast it shook on the wall, and silence finally fell.
Kally stared for perhaps a second too long, before clenching her eyes firmly shut. Then she stood there, simply stood there. Behind her she could hear Potter's ragged breathing, the wizard sounding angry even when he wasn't talking, and for the longest time none of them spoke.
Eventually the tingling on her skin subsided, Kally's breaths coming long and deep, a hand eventually falling calmly onto her shoulder.
"Let it be," Dumbledore said quietly, calmly.
She nodded and her heart skipped, painful. Then she quietly lifted the back of her hand to rub at her face, wiping away something wet.
Potter saw.
She didn't notice.
They were led into the kitchen after that, Potter's jaw clenched, oddly tense as he shot conflicted looks first at the portrait, and then at her.
ECOTS
The kitchen and surrounding rooms had been set up as an impromptu field hospital, which was how Remus Lupin found himself propped up against a wall, his chest searing painfully.
The blast Lucius gave had left a blackish welt across his sternum. Angelina Johnson, in her first year of healing training, had been quick to strip his shirt from him, applying a so-called soothing balm to the burn.
As far as he could tell she'd applied acid to his chest.
So there he lay, feeling slightly exposed, wondering when the 'soothing' part of the balm would kick in. The pain in his chest kept getting worse, spreading through him like a marrow-deep toxin, his bones resonating with a dull ache.
He didn't care about the 'bone issue' right now. He cared only about the pink haired witch sprawled out on the makeshift bed in the corner. The gash to her head had proven second only to her exhaustion, which had thankfully been the worse of the two injuries, and with the aid of a forcefully administered sleeping draught that was being taken care of.
At least that was what Angelina thought. She had also muttered something about keeping them both in for observation, but he wasn't too keen on leaving Tonks out of his sight. Godric forbid he give her five unsupervised minutes; she'd probably find a way to burn down central London.
When she had grabbed Emily's backpack and thrown it, when that bomb had went off…
He tried not to think about what could have happened to her, had his shielding charm not worked.
She could have been in the third triage room.
The black tags were put there.
The black tags for those who were dead or dying, far behind help they could give.
But she hadn't been put there. He seized onto that reassurance. No. Instead she'd been placed with the most inexperienced healer. That was a testament to her condition. Her injuries weren't severe. Not severe enough to make him worry as much as he was.
He tried not to think about why, because if Nymphadora proved right he'd never hear the end of it.
Hazel eyes studied her with brazen concern. She had not moved, and remained sprawled out on the cot at what looked like an awkward angle. One arm was thrown above her head, a leg hanging off the side. She lay very still, a hole in the knee of her jeans, and Remus frowned, his eyes traveling down Nympadora's leg in search of injury.
The shape of her calf was just-
The door to the kitchen flew open with a loud BANG.
Remus jerked his head up, never more grateful for a distraction in his life as it flew open with all the exuberance of a flashbang on New Years.
That door nearly took out Angelina in the process. Kalliandra just managed to lunge forward to catch it, right before it had a chance to smack where the healer in training stood, massaging orange paste into the burnt scalp of a child.
Angelina didn't even look up. Her dark eyes stayed firm on the kid's wound, her movements swift and confident. Even he had to admit he was mildly impressed.
"Don't mind us," she said calmly, "it's not like there are people in here, or anything."
Remus chuckled, but it died in his throat at the expression on Kalliandra's face. She had stopped, framed in that dark doorway, the girl looking at Angelina's back, emotion flicking across her face.
It lasted a heartbeat. It was upset and conflicted and everything heartbreaking.
Then her eyes snapped to his, something like relief filling them, before that familiar mask re-emerged so seamlessly that he marveled if it had ever fallen at all.
Remus couldn't fault her. She'd seen more than some of the most seasoned of Aurors had, and that…
It was the most heartbreaking thing he'd seen that day.
ECOTS
Kally stared at Remus and felt like she suddenly had air. He was alright. He was sitting there, on the kitchen floor, a bit disheveled but no worse for the wear.
The man cracked a smile from beneath his gray-tinged hair, rubbing at his chest with a slight mild wince.
Her eyes shot down to his chest with a frown.
"You okay Professor Lupin?" Potter's voice was unnaturally flat.
He shifted, grunting. "That depends," he groaned mildly, "on whether your housemate over there decides to hurt me or not."
Potter's shoulders re-stiffened.
Right. Right. He was okay. Remus was okay, even if he was being an idiot. Steeling herself she shot him a small glare. "Well, at least you have an excuse for ignoring me this morning," she said, ignoring the strange look she got from Potter. "For a second there I thought you were trying to get rid of me."
He chuckled. "Hardly seems wise. Knowing you, you'd find a necromancy book and find a way to torment me still."
"Well if I didn't," she countered, "I'm pretty sure your fan club might." She glanced towards where the colorful haired witch from the train platform lay, then back to him. "She alright?"
Any trace of a smile on Remus' face disappeared in an instant. "Yes," he said, "Tonks is fine."
Fine.
She'd heard the word fine a lot. Like when asked how she was doing, she would tell him she was fine.
Kally crouched down beside him, while the healer said hi to Potter.
Dumbledore walked over. "Good to see you Remus. I deduced that it would be pointless to try and keep these two away, but perhaps we should ask your care-taker for the moment if visitors are allowed shall we?"
"Visitors, no," the girl called Angelina countered. "Helpers, yes. Come to think of it, you three, move him to another room. I constantly feel like I'm going to step on him."
"She'll be a regular Madam Pomfrey in no time," Remus muttered beneath his breath, pushing himself up and once again, grimacing.
It sent something concerned stirring in her mind: Remus was a werewolf, and werewolves…
They didn't tend to flinch at small things; not when they were used to all of their bones breaking and flesh tearing only to reform and do it all again come morning at least and reforming once a month.
"How are you really feeling?" Kally asked. Remus was sweating. He was sweating a lot.
"Truthfully?" he sounded strained as he struggled to get his feet underneath him. "Like my bones are being eaten from the inside out."
Kally scrambled back to give him room, only to bump into Potter. The wizard dropped a hand on her arm to avoid knocking her over, before shifting past her.
A second later he'd crouched down and heaved an arm under Remus' shoulder. "Hey Moony."
"Harry, you look…taller."
Kally frowned, instantly, and so did Potter. He actually looked up at her, frowning, then shook his head with a forced smirk. "Yeah well, heard growth happens."
"Ah."
The next look Potter shot was once again directed at her, and catching on she hurried over to get under Remus' other arm.
They hoisted him up, together, Remus groaning the whole time.
"You groan like a girl," she muttered.
Remus grunted in reply, and Potter shot her a look behind his head. It was fleeting, lasting only a second, but she grasped his meaning.
Remus didn't look so good.
"You three go ahead, perhaps to his old room on the second floor?" Dumbledore proposed. "I will be along in a moment. I need to check on things here."
Potter and her grunted under Remus' surprising weight, and after much effort managed to get him up the stairs, depositing him within the confines of a frighteningly cheery room and its plush, flowered armchair.
It looked like something straight from an old woman's nightmare.
Potter barely seemed to notice it. His brow just scrunched up. "You know Lupin," he croaked between breaths, "you look like hell."
ECOTS
"Absolute hell," Harry added, letting Kaylens slide away onto the floor exhaustedly.
Professor Lupin chuckled slightly. "You know, that's an uncanny impersonation of Prongs, Harry." The wizard slumped into the armchair and it seemed to envelope him, faded fabric and all. "He used to say the same thing," he said, sounding more and more tired, "every month after the full moon. The change, back then, before Wolfsbane, it was…exhausting."
Harry stiffened and threw a sidelong glance at Kaylens, who seemed remarkably unsurprised.
"I know he's a werewolf if that's what you're wondering," she said quietly, eyes narrowed critically onto Lupin. Her tone then softened, substantially. "And Potter's right. You do look like hell."
Lupin sniffed. "It's the room. The pink cheer has this effect on me."
Harry was startled. Lupin sounded like he had just run a marathon after drinking a few pints.
This couldn't be good. "You know Moony," he said, hiding his wariness as he willed Dumbledore to hurry the hell upstairs, "pink never struck me as your color, but seeing you in it…"
Lupin chortled. "This," he waved a hand around to indicate the walls, "was all Sirius. His idea of a joke, really, when I stayed here." He dropped his hand to exhaustedly pat the chair's fabric and dust plumed up. Kaylens sneezed and Lupin smiled. "Haven't been able to get rid of these cursed flowers since."
And then the man, the last remaining link he had to his father, closed his eyes and grew two shades paler.
Harry tried to fight down the rising, sudden panic.
Moony was pausing, as if seriously in need of catching his breath. Kaylens had clambered to her feet besides him, and for a moment Harry was able to ignore her. His attention was focused entirely on Remus.
Kaylens snatched up a throw blanket and tossed it over him, the thing billowing out like a parachute before falling to cover the man. Her entire face was scrunched up in an expression of concern. Harry was startled by it. He'd half wondered if she was even capable of concern.
"Well," she said, her tone oddly mischievous, "that gives me a few re-decorating ideas now doesn't it?" She crouched down alongside Moony, gnawing on her lower lip.
Inexplicably the way she spoke, as if everything were normal, calmed him.
He forced down a hard swallow. "Redecorating?" Harry asked, somewhat against his will.
"Gods no..." Remus muttered.
"And just think Remus," Kaylens continued, a quiet and uncharacteristic playfulness in her tone, "if you're still ill who will be at your house to stop me?"
Lupin turned a horror filled face to him. "Don't let her near my place Harry."
Harry felt utterly baffled. "You've been to his house?"
Kaylens gave a small, short nod. "Yes," she murmured, still looking at Lupin with that enigmatic expression. And then beneath her breath, Harry certain that she would never have said a thing if she'd not been distracted, she murmured, "He's been tutoring me. Sort of."
He felt a stab of something green and jealous. Kaylens had been to Moony's home. He never had.
Lupin seemed to notice, waving his hand to change the subject. "In a bit I think I'll sleep. Then would you mind checking on Tonks for me? I'm a bit worried. Never know what she'll get herself into."
Harry blinked. "What's wrong with Tonks?"
Lupin sobered. "There were attacks this morning. She got banged up, like always."
For the thousandth time, he felt chilled. How many attacks had there been? "Are you talking about the ones on Hogwart's families?"
Kaylens shot him a curious look.
Lupin shook his head. "No, a different one. We're keeping it quiet and off Fudge's radar, so the Muggles are being treated here by our healers."
Harry wanted to question him further on details, but resisted the impulse.
Kaylens, however, didn't. "Wouldn't St. Mungo's be better?" She paused, glancing between them. "Isn't that what that place is supposed to be for?"
Lupin nodded. "Normally. But the extent of the injuries..." He clutched his ribs, his face cringing till the wave of pain passed. Harry stared at Lupin's chest where the blanket had slid down. The wizard's shirt was unbuttoned and that dark spot seemed bigger.
"The injuries are either minor, or untreatable," Moony said, breath oddly ragged, "even by…by wizarding standards."
Right. That spot was definitely bigger. "Lupin, I think we need to get you looked at again," he said.
"I'm fine, really," he waved him off almost drunkenly. "Just bruised up. Probably why I look like hell, eh?"
Kaylens frowned skeptically. "Remus what gave you that bruise?"
"A spell. Really, you two are worse than ole' Pomfrey."
"What sort of spell?" Harry interjected. He trusted Angelina, but he had seen how many people she had been caring for. She could have missed something.
"No clue. Never seen it. It only made me fly and knocked me out." He made an airplane gesture with his hand, before making it splat.
Crap.
"Professor Lupin," Harry heard himself demanding, "try to remember, what was the incantation? Who said it?"
Lupin groaned. "Don't remember and Lucius Malfoy."
Harry felt chilled. Lucius Malfoy was never harmless.
"Who is that?" Kaylens asked, her eyes turned to him questioningly.
"Just the worst of the Death Eaters," he supplied. Until now he had been able to ignore her. Mostly. "Surprised you don't know him. Too low on the totem pole still?"
Kaylens' mouth parted, shame and surprise in her gaze.
Surprise like that was hard to fake.
It hit him like an icicle to the gut; she'd had no idea what a Death Eater was.
Harry's mouth went dry. Inexplicably, horribly dry.
Kaylens head had whipped towards Lupin, naked worry etched on every centimeter of her smooth face. Harry stared, because it changed literally everything about her.
Her features were open, honest. He'd never seen that before.
"Fucking hell," he muttered, staring. "You didn't know."
Now Kaylens head whipped towards him, and for a fraction of a second he met her eyes. They were gold, so fucking gold he hadn't really noticed because he'd never taken the time to actually look.
But what caught his attention was how scared they looked, and that told him everything he needed to know.
"Harry!"
Both their heads darted back towards Lupin. He'd started waving his hands around. "Now Harry, that's no way to talk to a lady. You're supposed to be a lady's man. What would Sirius say? Or your father?" Remus closed his eyes and let out an animalistic groan. "You don't talk to women like tha-"
That near-drunken sentence was cut off with an inhuman moan.
He gaped. "Lupin you're acting off."
Kaylens looked equally confused. "Remus what are you…" she trailed off, scrambling to her feet.
Lupin suddenly relaxed, his muscles losing all form as he slumped in the chair.
"Lupin?" he asked, voice damn urgent.
Kayelns seemed equally upset, her delicate hand already on Lupin's sweaty brow. "Potter I think we should get Dumbledore." She frowned, looking back at him, that fear back and dancing in her eyes. "I don't know what's-"
Lupin's body went rigid.
And then it jerked, violently.
He and Kaylens exchanged a look.
She looked panicked.
"Remus..." she whispered.
The werewolf's arm jerked up, nearly striking her across the face. Kaylens caught it, holding on more for her own protection than Moony's. The former professor thrashed suddenly. His eyes closed and opened as rapidly as his mouth, a wheezing breath expelled that sounded like dementors and death.
Kaylens was talking to him, shouting his name to get him to wake up.
"Kaylens…" Harry had a sinking feeling.
And then Lupin's body threw itself to the side, the man's back arched in the seat, curving out like a bow and cracking just as violent. The bruise widened, spreading across his chest, darkening his skin.
Harry had begun to pace during their conversation, and found himself far enough away to be out of reach, yet close enough to see it.
Lupin's pupils had narrowed into vertical slits.
And then they gleamed yellow.
"Kaylens get away from him!" he shouted, lunging, tackling her around the waist as Remus' leg shot out. They clattered to the floor together, and Lupin's leg caught him hard across the stomach, driving the wind from him with a short grunt.
He gasped, his body entangled with Kaylens' long legs, and he found himself unable to move.
A menacing snarl resounded from the chair, and Lupin's hands curled around the armrests, veins bulging grossly. Fingernails began to lengthening, shredding into the fabric with a resounding tear.
Harry found himself transfixed, frozen as Lupin's shoes tore, toenails extending straight through and scratching the floor.
He snapped out of it.
"Move!" he wheezed, grasping her by the shoulder. He staggered to his feet, yanking Kaylens with him. They barely made it to the door before Lupin had sprang from the chair, his ribs cracking in their violent outward expansion, his snout turned upwards in a silent howl.
They ran, bending floorboards beneath their pounding feet, the first howl echoing threateningly throughout the corridor. Wall-mounted candles whipped past, the scent of wax and oil and dust heavy as they ran, and a howl tore through the second floor.
"Potter! Potter wait!" Kaylens ripped from his grasp, nearly tripping them both.
He grabbed her roughly, the staircase in sight. "What the hell is the matter with you!? In about five seconds a werewolf, NOT REMUSis going to be on you! Got that?"
She stared, ashen faced. The dim candlelight played across her features, casting their fiery reflection within her frightened eyes.
"He'll follow us."
Tick.
Tick.
"Bloody hell," he realized. She was right. There was a makeshift hospital on the first floor, filled to the brim with injured Muggles and kids.
They'd lead him right to them.
Click.
Kaylens tensed under his hold.
Click. Click.
He held her about the wrist and pulled her closer, protectively, listening to the sound of claw on wood, racking his mind for an idea.
Around the curve, less than a dozen paces from them, a snout emerged.
His breath caught in his throat, watching Lupin's nose work. It's wide black nostrils twitched in the air, searching for their scent. The wolf was cautious, sniffing around the corner first before following.
It had not seen them yet.
The glinting fangs caught the candlelight before he recognized that the pain in his arm was from Kaylen's tight grip. It tingled and hurt and burned all at once. He caught her eye and she nodded in understanding, and they began moving with cautious backward steps.
His foot reached the top stair first, just as Lupin's entire head appeared.
The werewolf's lips peeled back, unleashing a low, soul-shattering snarl.
Kaylens nails dug into him.
It reared back on its haunches and sprung.
"Run!" Harry yelled, flinging her about the waist down the stairs, placing himself between her and Lupin.
He heard her hit the stairs, thunkering down to the first landing with a short yelp of pain, just before the entire weight of a two hundred pound beast came crashing onto his chest.
ECOTS
Kally caught the hand rail, clinging to it long enough to bend her fingers back and slow her descent. Her wrist and arm twisted and her shoulder screamed, the pain and gravity prying her fingers loose and sending her tumbling forward, slamming onto the hard landing with a thick thud.
She coughed painfully, disturbed dust rising several inches into the air, when a tangle of arms and fur plunged past, centimeters in front of her face.
Her heart shot straight up her throat. "Potter!"
She rolled on her stomach to see Remus' curved back smash against the stairs. They were sharp and blood shot out, the two skidding down the flight, Potter on top and letting out a howl of pain as a claw lashed out, latching into his shoulder like a grappling hook. The werewolf's hind legs dug into the stairwell and the sudden change in momentum sent Potter pitching free, the wizard rolling and tumbling haphazardly down, thumping to a halt at end of the flight.
Kally felt sick. A smear of the blood, pooling from Potter's shoulder, was already staining the base.
Pain shot through her, but a cold ice bathed her.
He hadn't moved. Potter hadn't moved.
But Remus did.
The werewolf rose on all fours, shaking its head out like it'd been struck upside the head. It let loose a low, rumbling growl that drove fear down to her marrow, but its powerful body began cracking joints and bones back into place.
It was injured, but unbothered.
Kally felt frozen, laying flat on the landing, scared to move. The wolf hovered on the flight between them, only a few short stairs separating them from it. A brawny forepaw lashed out at the banister, shredding it to slivers, shards flying at her till she ducked under her own hands, protecting her face from the splintery debris.
And then a sick, frothing sound met her ears. Remus was salivating from the mouth, his drool puddling beneath him, soaking the wood and moistening it as he looked between them, choosing his target.
He turned towards Potter's defenseless body.
ECOTS
"Hey!"
The edge to her voice shook him awake like no clock ever could.
Harry was dazed but he had to move. His skull rang and the lower half of his body seemed curiously numb, but he had to fucking move.
He gritted his teeth and shoved his hands down to shove himself up. It didn't work. His right shoulder gave out instantly, searing pain shooting from his shoulder and chest. The muscles had to be shredded, something thick and warm slickening his flesh.
Blearily he realized it was blood.
Flat on the floor, legs beginning to tingle, he rolled his head to look up. Up the stairwell, up at what he'd just been thrown the hell down.
Lupin was still there, the wolf rising, shaking itself off.
Harry's legs tingled again, his literal ass throbbing. Tail bone injury, he figured. Then again, knowing his luck he might have just paralyzed himself. Fuck.
Something growled, low and menacing, and tasting his own blood Harry clambered to his knees with considerable effort.
Just in time to catch sight of the werewolf sauntering towards him.
Before instinctual alarms even had time to go off, something smacked against the creature's curved back, bouncing off and into the wall.
"Hey! Hey werewolf!" Kaylens hollered, hurtling her other shoe, striking it directly on the snout.
It threw its head back, snarling at her, baring its teeth.
It was like an ice pick straight to the chest.
"Kaylens no!"
She was already sprinting up the stairs, the werewolf bounding after her.
He drew his wand and somehow moved, screaming for help, throwing every curse he knew at Lupins' back, missing as it disappeared after Kaylens' swift figure.
He fought his way up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing, conscious of the sounds now calling to him from elsewhere in the house. But it was the air, the air that had his attention. It was growing thick, a heady pressure increasing in his ears, his hair standing on end as he slipped in his own blood, stumbling.
He fought through, reaching the top corridor.
"Kaylens!" he choked, the stifling air growing worse, pressing harder against him.
He fumbled, tripping onto the ground where he crawled weakly. Footsteps could be heard pounding up the stairwell-
They stopped, stalling behind him.
Harry screamed to her. He tried, but all that came out was a dry rasp. His nerves all screamed together, his eardrums about to burst-
It stopped.
As suddenly as it had begun, the pressure lifted.
Harry lay there, on the ground and gasped on the air. He squinted down the hall, glasses gone. He couldn't see her!
He clambered to his feet, rounding the corner.
The very air seemed to reverberate here, gold flecks of light dancing within it like impish fireflies. He was so taken off guard he nearly tripped.
He stared down at what he'd kicked, a slow horror sliding through him.
Kaylens lay beneath him, drained of color, her chest far too still.
Feet away lay the werewolf, unconscious and panting.
