19. Innocence Lost

The next morning Alastor was woken by Rremly, who gave his arm the gentlest of shakes to rouse him. Blearily opening his eyes he found that the candle had, of course, burnt itself out. He could see nothing but darkness.

"Lolo's here," said Rremly, helping him to sit up. "It's time to go."

Alastor threw his mind into gear, trying to get himself past the dull groggy haze he seemed to be trapped in. Exhaustion and heaviness coated him like a second skin. His head still throbbed in time with the beats of his heart.

"We're ready now," said Belladonna.

He felt Rremly clasp his hand and then felt Lolo's hand taking his other hand. There was a pull and a rush and then suddenly Alastor was on the floor of Rremly's room. He winced and groaned at the daylight that filled the room. It burned his eyes. He felt Rremly release his hand and seconds later the curtains were drawn. By the time Rremly and Belladonna got him onto the bed, Alastor heard the door burst open.

"Al!"

"Thank Merlin!"

Percy and Stewart hastened to the bed. When Alastor looked at them, he knew for certain that neither had slept a wink. Their eyes were tired and they both looked a bit pale. They took his hands and held them very tight, as if to reassure themselves he was really there. Before any more words could be spoken, a new voice sounded in the room.

"All right you four," said Madam Arden, to Alastor's intense surprise. "Please do excuse us. Do proceed back downstairs to your families."

For a moment it almost seemed as though both Stewart and Percy were going to defy her and stay, but they eventually released his hands, sparing him deeply concerned glances as they made their way to the door. Belladonna gave his shoulder a pat and Rremly gave his arm a light stroke before they, too, left the room.

That was when he noticed that someone else had come up with Madam Arden. Stephen closed the door and came closer. It was odd, but Alastor felt a strange calm stealing over him. He felt the pain- that hadn't gone away, but there was a gentle calm sweeping over him. It was comforting and he felt safe. Alastor was very glad that Stephen was here. Madam Arden and Stephen exchanged glances. She gave a nod and he came up to the bed and sat upon it, letting his hand rest over Alastor's.

"Alastor, can you tell me what was done to you?" Stephen asked gently, his voice quiet and patient.

He gave a little nod and began to tell him everything. It was peculiar, but Alastor found it easy to tell him. He felt so secure that it didn't bother him that Madam Arden was still in the room with them. There was just something compelling about Stephen. It felt right to tell him.

"Has this been done to you before?"

Alastor shook his head, telling him of all the various punishments he'd endured over the years. It felt good to finally say it. Though Stephen remained utterly calm and patient while listening to Alastor, he could see the brief changes in his eyes. He knew Stephan was angry and appalled.

At length Stephen rose to his feet, "Thank you for telling me everything you did," he said, "but right now, I need you to remove your shirt and turn onto your stomach, please. Will you need help with the shirt?"

"No, I can do it."

Though it was still painful, Alastor managed to get it off without too much time going by and carefully shifted onto his stomach.

"Wonderful, thank you. Now, do relax as much as you can."

Closing his eyes against the dull pain in his head and back, Alastor tried as best as he could to be still, to breathe evenly, and to relax as much as he could. After several long moments, he suddenly became aware of Stephen's fingers gently tracing over the gash on his head- felt something cool and moist being applied to the spot. For a few brief moments it felt as if the solution was being absorbed by his skin, seeping into him. Then, as Stephen held his fingers there, he began to feel the spot tingle quite a lot. It stopped after a bit and was followed by warmth which spread all over his head. The warmth was intensely wonderful and relaxing, and he mourned the loss of that warmth when it faded. Then it hit him- his head felt so much better, lighter even, and there was no more pain.

Next was his back. He felt it all over again- the cool solution, the tingling, the warmth, and the absence of pain. Stephen then took a moment to whisper something to Madam Arden, at which point she rose and left the room, closing the door behind her. When they were alone, Stephen asked him if he'd like to be rid of the scars along his bottom. After Alastor nodded, quite emphatically, Stephen set to work. Afterward, Madam Arden returned and his wrists were tended to.

Stephen then placed a mirror in Alastor's hand and held up a large one behind him. Alastor stared in awe. His back was completely unmarked and his skin even looked (and felt) softer and new.

"How did you do that?"

Stephen smiled, "That's a discussion for later." Now he let the smile fade, and he was calm and serious once more. "Right now I need to ask you about your brother. Was he ever treated in a similar fashion?"

"No, not that I know of, but I think he will be when Father finds out that I'm gone and that he helped."

Memories of Rremly's explanation and Aurelius's parting words came to mind, bringing with them the worry and anxiety he'd felt- but then it started to fade when Stephen placed a hand upon his shoulder. He saw Madam Arden rise, quickly leaving the room. He didn't think anything of it. All he thought of was the gentle calm that seemed to emanate from Stephen.

"It'll be all right. Just take your ease here and I'll send your friends up to see you."

"Thank you, Stephen," Alastor had to say before he left. "Really, thank you for everything."

Stephen smiled a little, "You're welcome. I'm very glad I was able to help you." Alastor could hear the slight catch in his voice, and he saw a look in his eyes that he couldn't quite figure out, and before he could, Stephen patted his shoulder and left the room.

Now alone, pain-free, and in a better frame of mind, Alastor took a look around the room. He'd been here a few times before and always found the room warm and comforting. The room was comfortably sized with a sloping ceiling and a window seat. The walls were white and there was white wicker furniture: desk, bookcase, and rocking chair. The bed, dresser, desk chair, and armoire were white-washed wood, and there was no mirror- though Alastor presumed there might be one on the inside of the armoire. To off-set the whiteness of the room the drapes were a lovely yellow and light orange brocade, the bed clothes and linens were sunlit yellow and sunset orange, and so, too, were the rug and the afghan draped over the rocking chair. Rremly's room was warmth- was sunrise and sunset.

Everything was tidy. There was no clutter and not a single thing was out of place. In fact, the only things he could see that were displayed was a framed photograph of Rremly and his family outside in what looked to be their garden. Next to it was another framed photograph featuring the group: Rremly, himself, Stewart, Percy, Belladonna, and Griffith. Alastor vaguely remembered Rremly coaxing him to join them for the picture last year. Then he saw it- Rremly's two-way mirror lay in the space between the two frames.

Suddenly Alastor was enveloped by two pairs of arms. Stewart and Percy had come in and he hadn't heard them. They were crying.

"I'm all right," said Alastor, wanting to comfort them, but not quite sure how to go about it. His words definitely had an effect, though perhaps not quite the effect he wanted.

Stewart drew back, still crying, his eyes red-rimmed, looking hard at Alastor. There was no mirth or light in his eyes. He was serious- frighteningly serious.

"No, you bloody well weren't all right!"

"Stew!" Percy was clearly as shocked as he was. Even Belladonna looked at Stew with some surprise, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Only Rremly looked as though he'd been expecting this, but it didn't stop him looking pained as he reached out to touch Stewart's arm. Stewart shook him off.

"Well, he wasn't! A feather could have knocked him over."

"But I'm fine now. That's all that—"

"You could have died! You should have told us- told me about what was going on! I never would have endangered you like that if I'd known- really known! My parents could have done something! Percy's parents could have done something! Do you have any idea what Percy felt when he found out what was going on? Do you have any idea how his parents felt? How my parents felt? They were so upset and they were so afraid for you!"

Alastor couldn't bear it. His heart was clenching so tight it hurt to breathe. He'd give anything just to see Stewart happy, care-free, and smiling again. It wasn't just seeing Stewart upset and hurt beyond words, it was hearing him speaking through his crying that broke his heart.

"I never thought things could be different!" Alastor managed to get out as he, too, was crying. "I thought my life was normal- that other families operate in the same way! Then I met all of you and your families- it was too good to be true. I begged you not to say anything to your parents because I thought they'd have to tell mine. Parents don't lie to other parents," he broke off, unable to get any other words out.

If anything, Stewart looked even more wounded. "My parents love you! If they knew, they would have done everything to get you out of there! They're smart and compassionate enough to know that sometimes you do have to break a rule in order to keep someone else safe!"

Belladonna moved close and grabbed Stewart's arm, "That's enough!"

"He's right, though." Percy said, his voice thick and halting. "My parents—all our parents—would have felt the same- done the same."

"We almost lost a best friend," murmured Stewart, his voice quietly hoarse.

To see Stewart like that was awful and…humbling. Those blue eyes were never going to be the same again. Oh, they'll dance and twinkle- and he might smile and laugh in the years to come, but his eyes will show how much he'd aged emotionally. His eyes will tell the story of his first experience with life's cruelties. Stewart would now understand that the world, while holding great potential for beauty and wonder, also held equal potential for ugliness and misery.

Without a word, Alastor crossed the room and embraced Stewart. They held each other tightly for several long moments, sharing tears and ragged breathing. Three pairs of arms encircled them. It was the first time Alastor had ever experienced such an embrace.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted the silence. The door opened to reveal Holden. He, too, looked as though he hadn't slept at all.

"Al, you're wanted downstairs in the parlor," Holden told him quietly. Catching sight of the anxious expression on Alastor's face, he went on to reassure him, "It's all right, really."

Still a bit anxious, Alastor nodded slightly and went for the door.

"You four should stay up here for the moment."

Alastor glanced over his shoulder to see that the others had been about to follow. Now he was really anxious, but at Holden's slight gesture, he left the room. He took his time going downstairs. Once he'd reached the bottom, Alastor had a clear view of the parlor where he could see Rremly's, Stewart's, and Percy's parents, Madam Arden, and Professor Morrigan—the Head of Slytherin House—all talking amongst themselves. The sight of all of them did nothing for his anxiety. At that moment, Mrs. Redgrave caught sight of him. She wiped away a tear and then smiled reassuringly, beckoning him over. Everyone fell silent and looked over at him. Alastor knew then that Madam Arden had told them everything.

When he drew closer, Mrs. Pomfrey left her seat and immediately knelt down and embraced him warmly. It took him completely by surprise- but he was floored when Mrs. Redgrave and Mrs. Lockley also hugged him warmly. They were all so glad to see that he was all right- a sentiment which was also shared by Mr. Pomfrey, Mr. Redgrave, and Mr. Lockley. Eventually they'd all satisfied themselves that he was all right and returned to their seats. Mrs. Pomfrey guided him over to sit between herself and Mrs. Lockley.

Professor Morrigan drew closer but remained standing. He was every bit as dapper as he was at Hogwarts with his fine long platinum blond hair—always held back with a black ribbon in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck in a very 18th century sort of way—light green eyes, thin pointed nose, and stately carriage.

"Mr. Moody," he began, his voice patient, "you should know that your brother will be brought here shortly and that Professor Ellerhone has volunteered to be your guardian until you both come of age."

Professor Ellerhone wants to be our guardian?

Ornella Ellerhone was the pale, raven-haired, grey eyed professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts who was more apt to smile wickedly rather than frown. She had long curly black hair that stopped just at the small of her back, typically wore an obsidian bat pendant around her neck, and was always at home in her gothic fashions. She was quite mischievous, clever, and was his favourite professor. She was everyone's favourite professor. He knew she was fond of Stewart and Alfons and he knew that Alfons, Maximilian, Felix, and Belladonna respected her quite highly. She was the sort of woman everyone would love to have as a mother, or an aunt at least- and she'd offered to be his and Aurelius's guardian.

"However, until term begins you and your brother will be stay here with the Redgraves."

Professor Morrigan's voice brought him back to the present. A quick glance towards Mr. and Mrs. Redgrave told him that they were more than happy to have him stay. He was dangerously close to shedding more tears. This was all just too good to be true.

"Naturally there'll be a hearing and you and your brother will have to attend—"

The sudden appearance of Stephen, Professors Dumbledore and Ellerhone, and Aurelius—who was leaning heavily against Professor Ellerhone—rather halted his words. Alastor didn't even have time to notice that Aurelius's arm and leg were broken. All Alastor could see were the tiny trails of blood around Aurelius's eyes and mouth where they'd been sewn shut.