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CHAPTER 100 GUYS!

Emma took great care to cast a perfect Disillusionment Charm on her way back to the cave complex, despite the cloudy nighttime sky. A werewolf's superior sense of smell was well-known. Instead, she cast a Cushioning Charm on a patch of ground free of nettles and mushrooms, and settled down to wait.

Luckily for her, as she was not a patient person, her efforts bore fruit within the next few hours. Remus Lupin emerged, looking even more frazzled than usual as he passed a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes before looking up with a deep sigh. Carefully, so as to not frighten him, Emma rose to her feet and lightly touched his shoulder. He spun around immediately, scanning the caves. She knew the moment he spotted her when his eyes narrowed and traced the outline of the disillusionment.

'What do you want?' he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, glancing back towards the cave mouth.

Instead of responding, Emma pushed him towards a cluster of trees; she didn't trust Fenrir not to be keeping an eye on Remus without the latter's knowledge. Thankfully, he followed her lead. After checking that they were well out of sight, and that the large amount of honeysuckle would mask their scent, she released her cloaking charm. She looked up, only to find a wand pointed squarely at her forehead.

'Remus…' she started, holding out her hands in a placating gesture.

'No,' he cut her off. 'Whatever it was that you were going to say, save it. I can't believe… Moody said that Sirius was right. James had me convinced… I stuck up for you! What are you doing, working for him? I thought…' he trailed off, his eyes going slightly glassy.

'You thought?' Emma asked curiously, her plans momentarily forgotten.

'Back in Hogwarts,' he said, hesitantly, 'when we were doing patrols. You said you wanted to help against prejudice, that you… And Regulus, I suppose he's working for him too,' he said, cutting his sentence off midway as the corners of his mouth took an unhappy downturn. 'And here I was, thinking that I had found some decent Slytherins.'

'Remus,' Emma said, cutting his musings short. And then the words stopped, stuck on the tip of her tongue.

The whole of her plan hinged on trusting Remus enough not to reveal her secret, trusting him to have had enough experience keeping a secret of his own. But could she? It was a huge risk, a gamble Regulus would never have taken with someone he barely knew. But this wasn't someone he barely knew, was it? Regulus and Remus had been friends, of a sort, once.

To her surprise, Remus was waiting patiently, his wand still at the ready, though one eyebrow frowned quizzically, his head cocked to the side. Well, I suppose I'll just have to trust him, she thought. And if he doesn't believe me, I can always Obliviate him. The thought of erasing the memory of one of James's closest friends filled her with revulsion, but she knew it could be done. After all, she had had practice, a lifetime ago.

'I remember that conversation,' she said eventually, and dropped her hands to her side, ostensibly leaving herself at his mercy. Just in case, though, she twisted her wrist to let her wand slip into her hand. He would be able to fire off a curse before her, and she could only hope it wasn't incapacitating. 'I'll confess, at the time, I had been thinking of someone else. I thought he'd have a better chance than Dumbledore.'

'And now you're encouraging werewolves to segregate from society, deliberately antagonising us so we'll attack innocent citizens,' Remus replied sarcastically, his jaw set.

'Yes,' she said simply. 'I had to, if I wanted to survive. But,' she raised her voice as he looked about to interject, 'I have a plan. And if it works out… it'll make life easier for the both of us, as well as the werewolves in the long term.'

'I sincerely doubt that it will suit the both of us. Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn you into the Ministry right now.' He brandished his wand a little, as if to prove that he was willing to use it. Privately, Emma was feeling a little more confident now that she remembered Remus was the most calm and reasonable of all of the Marauders. If anyone was going to listen, it would be him.

'Because I'm not working with the Dark Lord anymore,' she said quietly, glancing behind her shoulder again. 'And I would appreciate being able to cast Muffling charms before I take that any further.'

Without a word, Remus flicked his wand in a broken circular shape, and Emma felt the slight buzzing sensation that accompanied Muffliato settle over her ears. She took a small step forwards to stay in range.

'What does Snape think of his tormentors using his own creations?' she blurted out before she could stop herself. Idiot, she thought. Why antagonise him when he's the only one who can solve your problem?

To her surprise, Remus coloured a little.

'I was never the one to bully him,' he said quietly.

No, Emma thought. You just let it happen.

But then again, so did she. In fact, she had encouraged it, at the start. She was in no place to adopt a superior attitude when it came to schooltime morals. Instead, she moved the topic to the one at hand.

'I'm going to speak plainly,' she said, her heart pumping. For once, a snide voice said in her head. 'For a while now, I've been working against the Dark Lord's plans. But I'm only as useful as he thinks I am. The moment I no longer have his trust is the moment I cease to do any good. I was sent to help Fenrir unite the werewolves, and that is what I plan to do. Only,' and here she smiled, 'they won't be united in his favour.'

Remus rolled his eyes, but lowered his wand a little.

'And how do you propose to do that in a day, when I've been living amongst them for months?' he asked, a sardonic twist to his voice.

'Well, firstly, I've been in contact with quite a few people, so it's not my first bat at the Bludger,' Emma told him. 'And secondly, it's most likely a lot more violent than anything you would do.'

'I'm not killing anyone,' Remus immediately objected.

'And you won't have to. I'm going to get my bag out, so no sudden spells, all right?' When he nodded, she took her bag out and held it open. 'Do you know what this is?'

Remus looked over and inhaled deeply, recognition flitting across his features.

'Wolfsbane,' he breathed. 'But that's a myth, isn't it? That silver and wolfsbane work on werewolves?'

'Yes,' Emma replied. 'But no matter what type of being you are: werewolf, human, vampire, house-elf, wolfsbane will poison you if it gets caught in any open wounds. In fact, if you brush up against this plant after exercising, just sweating can help the poison infiltrate your system.'

'And this has something to do with tomorrow?' Remus asked.

Emma took a breath and exhaled slowly. If she phrased this in a way that seemed as though innocents would be hurt, Remus would never agree to this plan.

'The more… aggressive… werewolves have a tendency to spar, don't they?' she asked, although the response was obvious - they had both seen what went on in the caves. Without waiting for a response, she continued. 'When the werewolves go hunting tomorrow, it would stand to reason that they would be high on adrenaline, wouldn't it? And if the sparring oil were to be contaminated before they used it, then it's possible it would seep into their skin, isn't it? And given my promise to get the Ministry involved… well, it would stand to reason that lesions would occur with the most aggressive wolves, wouldn't it? Which leaves…'

'Which leaves those who aren't aggressive as the strongest in the pack,' Remus breathed. His amber eyes lit up with excitement, before dulling down again. 'But what if it has the opposite effect? The Ministry will be blamed for attacking werewolves, and there will be even more hatred between the two sides than before.'

'Ah, yes,' Emma replied awkwardly. 'Well, that's where you'll have to come in. Can you use the memory charm?'

'Obliviate?' Remus asked. He pursed his lips. 'I've never had reason to. But I know a few who do,' he added cagily.

'Can you get them here tomorrow night? If some of the werewolves who tended towards aggressiveness instead thought that... I don't know, that maybe wizarding children can make themselves toxic to werewolves? That the Ministry is developing a vaccine and testing it on the village, and while it doesn't immunise people, it infects the werewolves? Just something that makes it seem more dangerous to follow Greyback's lead on this.'

Remus still looked unsure, worrying his lip between his teeth as he sat down to think. That's something at least, Emma thought. He trusts me enough not to point a wand at me.

'Please, Remus,' she said, appealing to his compassionate side. 'I can't do this alone, and I'm running fast out of options. I know this seems cruel, but think of the long run. I can't imagine Akela trusting Fenrir again, even if she doesn't decide to help Dumbledore. This might actually take the werewolves out of the war, if we're lucky, even if it doesn't do much to help them.'

'Let me think about it,' he said, breathing deeply as he rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger. 'Just… let me figure it out.'

'Okay,' she replied, checking her watch. It was three in the morning, eighteen hours before the attack was supposed to start. 'But we don't have much time.'

Regulus knew that the Gaunt family had been near destitute at the time of Morfin's imprisonment, but the sight before him left him without words. He had climbed down into the valley and then back up again, circling the hill a few times before he finally spotted the dilapidated building.

Ivy clung to the stonework, choking the mortar from the bricks as it burrowed into the interior of the house, if one could call it that. Trees grew clumped and gnarled, a few branches creeping in and out of the broken windows and slats in the roof, searching for sunlight where none was to be found. He had originally mistaken the building itself for a large animal mound, so widespread was the moss that grew over the grey stones. The front door seemed intact at first glance, but as he approached, Regulus noticed that it was infested with woodworm, splintering off into chunks that lay across the entryway rather than protecting it.

'Diffindo,' he whispered, aiming at the nettles infesting the pathway. He didn't want to disturb the area, but the nettles reached his waist in places, their green leaves so tightly clumped that the surrounding bees had trouble getting to the sweet nectar lying in the flowers beneath.

As he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment, before levitating the whole thing and gently placing it to the side. He feared that if he touched it, it would crumble. A large object settled back with a thunk against the wood, and he stopped for a moment to inspect it. What he had taken for a particularly odd strain of woodworm was in fact the shrivelled form of a long-dead snake, nailed to the door.

Lovely.

He cast another few charms to detect magic, and was rewarded with a faint glow coming from the floor directly behind the entrance. Taking great care to avoid the area, he stepped into the space just beyond, only to feel a sharp pain in his foot.

Regulus bit back a hiss of pain. Raising his foot, he examined it with a weak Lumos. There was a slight dark patch on his shoe just below his toes, along with a small hole. Easy enough to repair; he could look at his foot later. Casting the light to the floor, he saw the offending object with ease. A broken cauldron, the rusted metal gleaming and jagged in areas.

Idiot, he thought, casting a Scouring charm. He'd rather leave his magic all over the hut than his blood. At least he could ask Emma about cleaning up magical signatures. Still, he had only used very weak and simple spells, so it shouldn't be too precise.

A sound to his left made him dart up, his heart pounding. According to the charms he cast, there should be no human presence. He scanned the entrance to the kitchen, but saw nothing. With all of his senses on high alert, Regulus moved slowly towards the noise, testing out the floor before stepping this time. He upped the power on his Lumos a notch, his lip curling in disgust when he saw several inches of dust covering the floor. The smooth, hard material beneath his shoes told him there was some sort of man-made flooring, at least, and not just grass and dirt.

There, he thought, and his heart leapt to his throat as adrenaline spiked in his stomach.

A sibilant hissing sounded, louder and louder, as movement caught his eye. A snake rose to flick its tongue at him, and he recognised it immediately as a black adder, despite the lack of a V-marking on its neck. Its half-lidded eyes stared at him as it swayed, deciding whether or not he was an enemy.

Wait, this snake is too big to be an adder! he thought, his mind going back to his studies on the common garden snakes. Immediately afterwards, he realised that the adder had been magically enlarged. As one part of him rejoiced at the discovery that he was in the right place, another, more urgent part, told him to move. Years of Quidditch-honed reflexes saved him. He dove to the side just as the snake lunged to bite, hissing angrily.

Regulus frowned. Adders weren't aggressive. That was one of the reasons he was able to converse with one during his History of Magic practical. Which meant that its size wasn't the only thing that was magically altered.

The snake lunged again, and he was forced into a rolling dive, knocking into the legs of one of the few remaining upright chairs. Right, he thought. Time for academics later. He could just picture Rabastan mocking him for studying the snake rather than neutralising the threat. Still, he didn't dare cast any complicated spells, for fear that he would send out a warning. Hurriedly, he brought the dregs of his Parselmouth to mind, biting the insides of his cheeks before uttering the harsh syllables.

'Friend,' he said awkwardly, holding a hand out as if to halt the snake. 'No hurt. I… friend.'

The snake paused just as it reared its head back to strike.

'Friend,' it hissed, its tone almost… subdued. 'Master is coming back?'

'No,' Regulus replied. Morfin was in Azkaban for life, and had been for a while already. Twenty years with the Dementors was enough to drive anyone mad, if Morfin had any sanity to begin with. He cast around for the words, running his pitiful lexicon through his mind 'I… I no like enemy. Enemy fight master?'

The adder twisted its head quizzically and hissed something Regulus couldn't understand. He sighed inwardly. If only he had brought his notes with him.

'I come back,' he said, making a circular motion. 'You tell me Master enemy?'

There was a short pause. Then the adder nodded, its body undulating with the unnatural movement.

'Human bring food.'

It wasn't a question.

Regulus nodded in return. If the snake hadn't been properly fed since Morfin Gaunt had left, then it was probably very hungry indeed. He wondered if some sort of warding had kept it alive all these years, or if it fed off the rats that were likely to be scurrying around. Come to that, what is it still doing here after all this time anyway?

He supposed it was just another question he could add to his list.

Nodding again, he backed away slowly, making sure to leap over the trap in the entryway. He had a lot of homework to catch up on.

By the time Emma returned to Grimmauld Place, she was exhausted.

Remus had finally, reluctantly, agreed to her plan, and they had spent the next hour extracting the oil from the wolfsbane plant. He had asked her to wait while he placed the trap and contacted the order, but she had been too fidgety. Besides, if she hadn't been the one to alert certain Ministry members, then the Dark Lord would know that something wasn't quite right.

As a result, she had carefully spent the better part of the day baiting and laying clues for Walden MacNair, a Ministry official known to have a gruesome reputation and a liking for blood. She couldn't imagine Remus having a problem with the man being put in danger, especially after he'd made several comments about werewolves needing to be "put down"; equally, he was not to her knowledge part of the Dark Lord's camp.

In the end, MacNair decided that he would deal with the matter alone, with only a couple of friends for company, though he had begrudgingly informed his superior of the attack, providing an alibi for both Emma and Remus in one fell swoop.

Satisfied that her job - or at least the part that she could influence - was complete, Emma went back to Grimmauld Place, eager for a warm bath and a soft bed. Kreacher greeted her at the door, explaining that Walburga had gone to visit her cousins Druella and Cygnus.

'Very important news!' Kreacher exclaimed, probably not for the first time that night, though Emma could barely focus on his words.

She murmured a soft acknowledgement, wondering whether food and a bath were worth the effort, or whether she should just fall straight into bed despite it only being six o'clock. In the end, she decided to drag herself into the shower, having just enough sense left in her to realise she should wash off the excess wolfsbane that could have affected her.

After having dropped the bar of soap twice and nearly fallen over, Emma pulled on some shorts and a T-shirt, thankful that Regulus's room was just down the hall. Regulus himself hadn't returned yet, Kreacher had said, and Emma assumed that the interview was going well.

That's something, at least, she thought, physically crossing her fingers for Remus's success in the next few hours as she fell onto the soft duvet and shutting her eyes against the dying rays of the sun's light.

Something crinkled under her weight, and she groaned, rolling over and between the sheets. Patting the bed beside her, her fingers felt the cool crispness of parchment. Blearily, she opened her eyes. Regulus's name was written on the front in spikey cursive letters, and the back was sealed with the ornate curve of the Ministry's stamp. Below the red wax was another stamp, this time in blue ink, of an eye containing an hourglass.

Emma blinked purposefully, trying to think clearly as she puzzled out the meaning of the symbol. However, her eyelashes glued shut, refusing to open again, and instead she sank into sleep's embrace.