Okay, get drinks and snacks ready, this one's a long chapter. It was longer, so I left you with a little present at the end (*dodges flames about cliffhangers*)
A huge Thank You to everyone who reviewed. Seriously, you made my weekend. I will try very hard to get the next chapter to you, finished, as soon as possible.
Chapter 15: Grim Purpose
Antoinette sat in the hospital gardens, her face gaunt, her eyes vacant. Nurses and doctors chatted about the events of their early morning shifts as they smoked. Patients took advantage of the fine weather to enjoy a view of something other than the sickly people in the beds next to them. She didn't get too many glances - no one dared look at the woman who, in a matter of weeks, had been widowed and forced to bury her newborn child. The hospital had done well to protect her from the insensitivities of the media, who had been dying for a first-hand account of her tragic tale.
"Let's go back to the room," the nurse suggested quietly. She took Antoinette's lack of response as acceptance, and pushed her wheelchair back to the room. She hadn't shed a single tear for her loss, but when they told her, her mother holding her hand, they almost swore they saw a light leave her eyes. She said nothing to the grief councillors, and refused any visitors - even her own family. The only thing she asked for was an expresser, leaving the collected milk which should have strengthened her young son for the nurses to give to those who needed.
She continued to stay in a private room of the maternity ward, and refused to allow them to remove the empty crib. The nurses tried to brighten her room with cheerful flowers, all the while knowing nothing could relieve her pain. Even the flowers seemed to dull as she did. Sometimes at night, the staff would see her standing silently by the window, looking at the sleeping babies.
They did what they could for her, but she responded to nothing, and they let her be, making regular checks and giving her the nutrients she refused to eat via a drip.
Alone again in her room, she silently used the expresser, her eyes tracing the path of the tubes into the vein in her hand.
A nurse knocked on the door gently, holding a tray of food she knew all too well would be left untouched until someone else came with dinner. There was no answer as always, and she let herself in.
Two small bottles of breast milk waited. It took a moment for the nurse to realise something was wrong. A hole had been cut into the top of the drip, and what had been a full saline bag was now dry. The bubble trap, too, had been emptied. Antoinette lay peacefully, her dainty hands resting delicately before her, a small sheet of paper placed underneath.
~~~A wife; and you take my husband from me. A mother; and you take my child. All that remains is all I am. Take me, for I will not suffer my life alone.~~~
-.-.-
The Greenweather sons didn't need to see the sky to know it was getting late. They had spent the better part of the afternoon and coming evening trying to find a reliable track. They grew up playing in the forest, much to the distress of their mother; it was good for game-hunting, and with few predators lurking - until recently, that is - the biggest danger was getting lost.
They received an owl letting them know that the Ministry had arrived and started searching, but they were yet to come across anything other than the odd stag, leading to believe they were somewhat deeper and the Ministry was simply canvasing already-covered ground.
"This is ridiculous," the eldest, Andrew, said irritably. "Who can move that fast through this scrub with a struggling kid?"
Werewolves, apparently," Jonathan replied absently, using his wand to light up a fresh trail. "You're not thinking of turning back, are you?"
"I'm not about to tell Mr. Malfoy we left his kid in these woods because it got dark," his brother laughed. "Should have brought a broom. . .," Andrew said wistfully. He was getting bored, and trying to think of a more effective search.
"That would only be helpful if you knew where you were going, and you could dodge trees. Have a look at these ones." Jonathan crouched down at a fresh-looking set of tracks.
"The forest has been crawling with weres' for days, the tracks are useless. But if I have a broom, I could fly over, and-"
"-get a mouthful of leaves? Enough with the broom already, what colour was Arnica's dress?"
"Red, why?"
"I don't think the werewolves have access to velvet." Jonathan grinned, holding up a torn piece of fabric.
"Finally," Andrew said excitedly. He sent a blue seeker spark back to the manor, lighting up the fastest route, before they picked up the pace and moved deeper into the forest.
-.-.-
The Greenweathers set up a marque at the edge of the forest. Mr. Greenweather kept track of the searched areas on a map with some Ministry officials, and Mrs. Greenweather made a steady supply of hot drinks and biscuits for the returning search parties while keeping Lucius from barreling headfirst into the forest. Reporters from the Daily Prophet had caught wind of the story, providing a good escape for the Minister from Lucius's unforgiving glares.
"Mr. Malfoy, do sit down, everyone is doing what they can," Mrs. Greenweather assured. "The Aurors are on standby, the Minister is taking care of the press-" Everyone's attention was then drawn to the forest, where a brilliantly bright blue ball shot toward them like a rocket.
Mr. Greenweather took charge. "Get everyone back, we need them focusing on this section here." He pointed to an area not yet covered. The Minister came over to see what the hubbub was about.
"Did they find her?" he asked hopefully, not daring to look at Lucius.
"Blue sparks, not green, but that's better than nothing," one of the Minister's men answered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I want them searching the night," Lucius said clearly, in a voice that made no one dare to challenge him.
"I'll. . .um. . .I'll see what I can arrange," Cornelius replied.
-.-.-
Tonks, Troy, and Sirius waited for the last of the students to depart before getting off the train. The only person who remained on the platform was an attractive older woman, looking up and down it for someone.
"Tonks, good to see you again." Madame Rosmerta smiled brightly as they stepped off. "And you must be Troy," she added, holding out a hand to him.
"Madame Rosmerta is the owner of one of the local pubs," Tonks introduced as Troy shook her hand.
"Well, one of the ones worth going to," chuckled Rosmerta, before bending down and cocking her head for a peek at Sirius. "And who's this handsome fella?"
Tonks coughed down a chuckle.
"What handsome fella?" Troy looked around. "Oh, the dog - the dog's name. . .ah. . .Doogie," he answered uncomfortably, saying the first name that came into his head and avoiding looking at the dog. Tonks coughed a small fit, and Sirius whimpered.
"Different. . .Anyway, it's starting to get cold, we'd best be getting a move-on. Now, Dumbledore asked for me to put you up for the night; he said it might take off some of the stress of the move. I'll give you a tour of the village in the morning," she said, leading the three of them into the village and to the Three Broomsticks. "Up the stairs, and second door on the right. If you want to freshen up, the bathroom is just down the hall. I'll see to your dinner now. Just come down when you're ready." She smiled, leaving them at the foot of the stairs.
The moment they were in the privacy of their room, Sirius transformed. "Doogie? Where in Merlin's tower did that come from?" he demanded irritably. "I thought I told you to call me Snuffles?"
"I panicked and I forgot what the name was, I'm sorry." Troy chuckled in apology, but quickly stopped at the look Sirius gave him.
"So Doogie was the best you could come up with?"
"It's not that bad."
"I am not coming if you call out 'Doogie'," Sirius said flatly. "It's just downright offensive. Do I look like a Doogie? Might as well call me Doggie. Here's a tip - when you have kids, let the mum pick their names," he scoffed. "Doogie. . ." he muttered irritably, searching for a book in the trunk.
"You aren't coming down for dinner?"
"I am not about to listen to, 'Doesn't Doogie like his meatloaf'?" Sirius mocked, flopping onto the bed with his book. "No thanks."
-.-.-
Maddie waited in the Entrance Hall with the rest of the First Years, feeling like she was on the set of The Wizard of Oz, in the Munchkin village; a group of them were looking at her as though she were some sort of Franken-teen. She could feel hiccups building up again, and concentrated very hard on keeping them at bay.
"Aren't you a little old for a First Year?" a snooty little girl asked pointedly.
"Aren't you a little small to be picking a fight with someone who could step on you?" Maddie retorted, just before Professor McGonagall returned.
"First Years, follow me, please. Miss Raveien, just wait here a moment." McGonagall led them through the large double doors. They closed behind the last student, leaving Maddie quite alone. Anxiety didn't waste any time setting in.
"It's just a talking hat," she muttered repeatedly to herself, pacing distractedly. She had no reason to be nervous, nothing could possibly go wrong. A small hiccup escaped, along with an orange butterfly. "No. . .," she whimpered.
She could only slightly make out the sounds of the Sorting. Sometimes the applause had long spaces between; sometimes it was almost instant. After what seemed to be the better part of the night, there came the loudest applause yet, which - she hoped - signaled the end.
Maddie got to her feet quickly, smoothing her skirt as the sound of a single set of footsteps approached. McGonagall came out. Dumbledore was saying something in the Great Hall, but she was too nervous to catch any of it.
"They are ready - oh my." McGonagall pointed her wand at Maddie's skirt, taking it down to what she deemed an appropriate length. "I don't know what may be acceptable at Muggle schools, but here at Hogwarts we have standards." She took deep breath and spotted a butterfly fluttering past, which Maddie promptly shoo'ed away. "We are ready for you now," McGonagall said, almost comfortingly.
Maddie nodded mutely, swallowing her heart back into her chest as she was led through the large double doors. Just a few more steps, and it would all be over.
All eyes were on her. She tried to ignore the inaudible muttering. Harry, Ron, and Hermione gave her a quick and reassuring thumbs-up with smiles and waves. She felt so terrible, wondering if some more butterflies would erupt before she was sorted.
Maddie took a seat on the stool, and the hat was placed on her head. Put me in Slytherin, she pleaded silently, her stomach in tight, painful knots as she betrayed her friends. I want to be in Slytherin.
"Are you sure? Your family has a legacy of Slytherins, and you will do well there, there's no question about that. But you would accomplish much in Gryffindor also, and I can see that you want to be there with those you care about-"
I want to be in Slytherin, she repeated painfully. She didn't, really - she wanted nothing more than to be around friends. But she had to do it. She needed to be in Slytherin if there was any chance of helping her sister.
"There's no going back if you change your mind."
-.-.-
The seconds stretched out, and people started to grow restless.
"What's taking so long?" Ron muttered uneasily. "She's a Gryffindor, and she wants to be in Gryffindor, she should have been sorted by now."
"I don't know," Harry muttered, also confused.
They glanced to the staff table. The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher looked as though she clearly had better things to do with her time. Dumbledore seemed deep in thought, but his face betrayed nothing. McGonagall too seemed a little taken aback. The other Heads of House watched with growing interest and intrigue.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Everyone she knew in Gryffindor was stunned for a moment before calling out protests, while the Slytherin table erupted into applause at the latest addition to their family. Hermione retraced everything, looking for a clue as to how this could have happened, whilst Harry tried to get Ron to sit back down. Professor McGonagall looked at Dumbledore in bewilderment, as though asking what she ought to do. Maddie remained seated on the stool, also waiting for instruction as to what would happen next.
"They can't put her there!" Ron yelled. Not that anyone heard, over the commotion the Slytherins were making.
"Why don't you just hand her to You-Know-Who and get it over with?" Fred and George said bitterly.
Hermione glanced at the Slytherin table - Draco was looking straight at them, still applauding and sporting a smug smile as though he knew exactly what they were saying. "I don't like this one bit."
"Of course you don't, the hat made a mistake," Ron snapped.
"I. . .I don't think it was," Hermione said uneasily, earning a vicious glare from Ron as Professor Dumbledore gave the slightest of nods to Professor McGonagall.
"This way, dear," McGonagall said weakly, directing Maddie to the Slytherin table.
"He can't be serious!"
Maddie gave only the barest of glances at the Gryffindor table. It was more than enough to catch defeated looks on her friends' faces. Her stomach twisted in guilt, but she didn't have time to let it show; she fixed a mask of confident inquisitiveness as she approached the Slytherins, ready to make friends with people only as a means to an end.
Draco seized the opportunity to call her over to sit with his friends. It was impossible not to take delight in the look on Weasley's face as he insisted she take a seat next to him, and made deliberate and exaggerated gestures introducing her to everyone. He wondered if Weasley's head would explode, as Ron went redder and redder with every handshake.
He had to admit his own shock at her being sorted into Slytherin. If it wasn't for everyone's reaction, he might have expected a setup. Surely they had spent the summer drilling her to be a Gryffindor? Apparently she had more in common with her father than they thought.
Either way, his father would be pleased with this, especially after his encounter with her brother. Maybe the Dark Lord had made a mistake in choosing Eliza; the little he had seen of her, Maddie seemed a far more agreeable choice, and the Sorting only proved it.
He didn't pay much attention to Umbridge's little speech. Unlike everyone else, he knew exactly what was coming (including the certain exemptions - such as himself), and frankly he couldn't care less how it would affect them if it meant getting rid of Dumbledore and putting Potter and his friends in their place. After the long and dull political waffle, the feast finally presented itself.
"So a whole summer with the Weasleys - how did you survive?" one of the Slytherins asked, as though she had spent a whole summer in a pit full of hungry lions, covered in blood.
"If I had to spend a day with them in that decrepit thing they call a house, I'd hang myself," Pansy laughed. "Is it true they don't even have indoor plumbing?"
She was in the middle of cutting a small steak rather intently. She gave what he suspected was an irate snort and bitter smile before looking up - "Their toilet works fine, and I'm well practiced in the art of bullshit." She smiled at Pansy.
"And what's that?" Pansy asked snidely.
"The art of telling someone to go to Hell in such a way that they almost look forward to the trip," Maddie replied pleasantly, continuing to smile.
A couple of Slytherins coughed down chuckles at her sass, including Draco.
"Heh," Pansy scoffed, failing to think of some witty reply and turning her attention to Draco. "So I was thinking over the Christmas holidays you could spend some time at our estate? Mummy and Daddy are going to Switzerland, and I thought we could enjoy some time alone."
"Yeah, I told you ten minutes ago - things are pretty busy at home," Draco said irritably. "Why bring it up again already?"
Maddie snorted and chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure that one was for my benefit."
-.-.-
"Ron, eat something," Hermione ordered, piling some salad onto his plate.
"I am eating," Ron replied absently, still watching Maddie and trying to catch her eye.
"No, you're not. You're staring, and it's pathetic," Lavender interjected, following his gaze. "Really pathetic."
"Look at her - you'd think she spent the summer with them, laughing and smiling. . .she hasn't even looked at us once she sat down," Ron brooded.
"She was just sorted into Slytherin, I don't think she wants to commit social suicide on the first day," Lavender scoffed at him. "Get a grip on your hormones."
"Back off, Lavender," Hermione cut in.
"Oh, please, listen to yourselves," Lavender retorted tartly. "She's a Slytherin. She is already in Malfoy's group, and she hasn't been sitting there five minutes. A Gryffindor Prefect with his tongue hanging out over a Slytherin is just wrong in so many ways. Clearly she's not the person you thought she was."
Ron looked at Hermione. "You know that silencing charm you're really good at-"
"No, Ron, we're Prefects," Hermione cut him off. "We can't be jinxing other students."
He turned to Harry. "You know that silencing charm you're good at-"
"Ron!"
"Well, he's not a Prefect! And it's a charm, not a jinx," Ron said pointedly. "You of all people should know the difference."
"Good point, Ron. So I can use it on you, and you can use your mouth for chewing instead of complaining," Hermione snapped back.
-.-.-
Everyone had gone up to their dormitories except Maddie; she sat wrapped in a blanket, watching the light of the dying fire and questioning her actions. What had she done? Oh, she'd made an impression on Draco, that much was certain. Now it was just surviving a year of living hell with betrayed friends and a morally repugnant homeroom, all the while trying to suss out any and all information about her sister's captivity. Troy was going to give her such an earful. . .actually, everyone probably was. But things were going as planned. She convinced the hat to put her in Slytherin, and Draco was making it all too easy for her to get close to him.
"What are you still doing up?"
Maddie started, and looked to the intruder. She snorted quietly, recognising Draco. "Waiting for your girlfriend to go to sleep," she laughed, looking back to the fire. "Apparently, I made quite the impression."
Draco laughed. "Despite what she likes to act, we're only childhood friends. She doesn't like anyone, it's nothing personal." He smiled, taking a comfortable seat so they could talk and tucking an envelope out of sight down the side of the couch. "So how long have you known?"
"Known what?"
"About all this - that you're a witch."
"Oh, a few weeks now. . .still getting used to it. . .the paintings still weird me out a bit, don't think I'll ever get used to that," she laughed to herself, shaking her head.
"And now you're here at Hogwarts. I've got to admit, I'm surprised you're in Slytherin. I'm sure you've been told that our house doesn't have the 'best' reputation amongst certain circles; I couldn't help but notice you avoided looking at the Gryffindors after the sort. And with all these rumours about the Dark Lord's return," he continued casually.
"Are you interrogating me?" Maddie flirted.
"Perhaps. Now where was I?"
"Rumours about the Dark Lord's return, and the rumours that your father kidnapped my sister," Maddie answered as though reciting a dull lesson.
"Don't beat around the bush, do you?" He grinned, unperturbed by the accusation. "Definitely a Slytherin. So tell me how this game works."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Maddie smiled.
"Of course you do. I'll save you the trouble, I know nothing."
"You'll understand if I don't take your word for it."
"I'd be disappointed if you did."
Maddie laughed. "So you want me to be suspicious?"
"Evidently, it's more fun that way." Draco smirked. "I love a good beguine."
"So you know mine, what's your agenda? If I were in any other House you wouldn't give two rats about me."
"Not sure yet, might have to make one up," he bluffed.
"You already have one."
"Of course, though by the way Weasley was looking tonight, you've done most of the work for me."
Maddie forced the thoughts away of how hurt Ron must have been, distracting herself with the task at hand. She raised an incredulous brow. "The big bad Draco Malfoy, out for a simple spot of schoolyard revenge? I think not."
"Right again, though I won't deny it's satisfying all the same."
"You could just tell me what you want and be done with it."
"Now where would the fun be in that?" He grinned. "Been flying before?"
Maddie looked amused. "Not as yet, no."
"I like to go flying in the mornings. If you're up, I could give you a lesson or two."
Maddie got to her feet, making her way to the girl's dormitory. "We'll see."
"Just one question before you go. Why didn't you look at your friends? I mean, they are your friends - or at least were until tonight. They were clearly surprised by your sorting, but you weren't; were you planning this right from the get-go behind their backs?"
Maddie paused at the first step and thought for a moment. She glanced back at him, debating on whether or not to answer. "That's two questions," she said, disappearing up the stairs. "Goodnight."
Draco waited until she was out of sight before pulling the envelope back out and making his way to one of the study desks. He scratched a few more notes on the letter before re-sealing it, and he made his way up to the Owlery. This year would definitely be interesting.
-.-.-
Eliza closed her eyes, completely exhausted. Arnica had finally cried herself to sleep on her lap, after hours of crying for her daddy and Draco. And then there had been the howling, apparently some serenade for the coming full moon. She had to admit from a scientific perspective she was impressed at their howling ability; the human larynx wasn't designed to make those sounds. From a present perspective she wished they'd all shut up and go to Hell. The bites still burned, but the sting was gone for the most part. They had left 'food' in reach of her, if one could call an uncooked dead rabbit 'food'. Apparently she and Arnica were the only ones present who didn't - she watched utterly disgusted as the children picked away at a dead stag, which was certainly well past safe for human consumption if the smell was anything to go by. Even if it had been cooked.
She wondered how deep they were in the forest. Surely someone had to hear Arnica's screams - those present certainly couldn't hear anything for some time after she finally stopped, and she put it down to the emotional magic that Draco had tried explaining to her. Surely Lucius was looking for his daughter? She didn't think much of him and knew he couldn't care less about her, but his one constant was his attachment to his family. She slowly drifted off into an uneasy sleep, interrupted by every sound made in the forest.
-.-.-
Not too far away, the Greenweather sons had made a small campfire whilst they took turns keeping watch. They had found more scraps of cloth, leading them to believe they were heading in the right direction, but the possibility of a trap or ambush wasn't lost on them; they would rest a few more hours before proceeding with caution. They knew they had to be getting close, and as there were apparently unaccounted werewolves present, Merlin only knew how many more there could be. Andrew felt himself drifting off to sleep despite the eerie chorus of howls, and nudged his brother.
Jonathan was instantly awake, wand in his hand. "What the. . .!"
"It's been going on about an hour."
"The pack in this forest isn't that big. . ."
"Depends on which pack you're referring to. The real wolves, no. The werewolves. . ." Andrew trailed off with a yawn. "Your turn," he said, doing his best to make himself comfortable against a tree.
-.-.-
Maddie tiptoed out of bed, wincing as her trunk locks snapped open. There was some incoherent muttering, but the Fifth Year Slytherin girls continued to sleep. She didn't want to deal with Pansy and her entourage this early, and from what she had gathered from the majority of students' home life, anything before late morning was viewed about as pleasant as a visit to the dentist. She quickly changed into tracksuit pants and sweater, regretting having brought such bright colours.
Hermione would be up soon, she was sure of that, and they'd spent the entire summer telling her the layout of the school. Finding the Fat Lady who guarded the entrance to the Gryffindor commons shouldn't be too hard - or so she thought. After explaining everything to Hermione, she'd quickly slip back into the Common Room and wait for Draco to make his way down like the rest, and take up his offer on a flying lesson.
Maddie quickly crossed the Common Room, and was nearly at the exit when - "You're in a hurry."
She cursed silently, pulling her hand away from the door, and turned to face Draco, who was dressed in what was apparently flying gear with a broom slung across his shoulders.
She gave a strained smile. "You're up early. . .," she said all too cheerfully. "Unlike everyone else," she added under her breath.
"I said I liked flying in the morning."
"I just figured that you would be up at the same time as everyone else, so I was going to explore a little." Which was at least half true.
Draco laughed. "I have a little sister who is used to getting what she wants. Trust me, I'm used to early mornings," he said. "Shall we?"
-.-.-
"Harry! Harry!" Ron hissed irritably, trying to keep his voice down and failing.
"Oh, what?" Harry groaned, trying to cling to the remnants of what had been an unusually pleasant dream.
"Look!" Ron ordered, pointing out the window.
"What?" Harry asked groggily, finally accepting he wasn't likely to return to his sleep until he had appeased Ron. He fumbled for his glasses, waiting for the world to become a little less fuzzy before joining Ron at the window.
"It's Malfoy!"
"What about him?" Harry asked with growing frustration as he tried to focus on the green spot. "He has his broom with him - he's probably going flying," he muttered, making his way back to bed. Ron grabbed him by the back of his pyjamas.
"Take a closer look!" Ron said, ignoring the grumbling from the other boys who had also been disturbed from their sleep. "See?" he demanded. "Who in Slytherin do you know who would wear a. . .well. . .that?"
"This better be good," Neville muttered, coming over to the window. "Isn't that that Maddie girl?" He observed the red figure jogging loops around Draco, assumedly to get warm.
"Thank you!" Ron exclaimed. "Come on, Harry, get dressed."
"Why?"
"We're going down there."
"Why?"
"Because it's Malfoy!"
"And?"
"We need to get her away from him!"
"She is in his house, Ron! There is no keeping her away from him!" Harry snapped.
"But-"
"Maybe Hermione's right, and she's trying to help her sister. I don't know. But you can't go storming down there without good reason and start problems."
"I'm a Prefect!" Ron said indignantly.
"So is he. Ron, I know you're upset about this, but there is nothing you can do," Harry replied sympathetically, making his way back to bed as did the other boys. Ron was left grinding his teeth, watching from the window while Maddie held Draco tightly around the waist as he took off with her.
-.-.-
"Rise and shine!" someone said, as the back of a hand collided with Eliza's cheek.
"What now?" Eliza hissed through the pain. She reluctantly opened her eyes as Arnica's weight was lifted off of her. "Where are you taking - put me down, you son of a whoring bitch!" she shrieked, as she was slung over the man's shoulder as though she were a sack of potatoes.
Someone else laughed. "Hah, she knows your mum."
"Everyone move out, the wizards aren't far and I'm not about to make this easy for them," Fenrir ordered as people gathered their few meagre belongings.
-.-.-
Most of the school had finally woken up when Draco and Maddie made their way back to the Entrance Hall, laughing and talking animatedly about flying. They stopped short at a tall, dark figure in their path.
"Morning, Professor," Draco said, casting a glance at Maddie.
"Miss Raveien, you have leaves in your hair," Professor Snape observed dryly as Maddie hurried to remove the offending leaf-litter. "Mr. Malfoy, I have some important business to discuss which cannot wait." There was nothing in his expression to give away what it might be about.
Draco nodded. "I'll see you back in the common room." He waved to Maddie as he followed Severus into the dungeons.
-.-.-
Several students gossiped as they came down from the upper floors and made their way into the Great Hall, which was slowly filling. She spotted Harry, Ron, and Hermione talking to a Ravenclaw girl with an absent look on her face. She started toward them, then heard her name being called from the Slytherin table; the trio looked at her, and she turned back to her house table.
"Looked for a moment there like you had forgotten which house you're in," Blaise commented lightly as she took the seat next to him. "Where's Draco? I thought he took you flying this morning?" he asked, a little confused. "Or did you not do it? He owes me a galleon if that's the case."
"No, we did go flying, he had to talk to the greasy professor. Wait, he bet money-?" She jumped as a thick wad of letters dropped on her thankfully empty plate.
"Someone's popular," Pansy muttered, catching her letter easily before it dropped on her eggs.
"Oh, I'll bet I'm really popular at the moment with these. . .," Maddie muttered, recognising handwriting and names as she flicked through. She decided most would be best opened in private.
"Guess we know what Snape's talking to Draco about," a Slytherin girl whose name she couldn't remember said. She turned the front page of the Daily Prophet so everyone could see the headline.
"My poor Draco!" Pansy gasped breathlessly.
-.-.-
Draco followed Severus to his office, where he took a seat opposite.
"I see you've wasted no time with Miss Raveien. Don't underestimate her. You'll need to start practicing those Occlumency lessons I've been giving you if you want to keep your father out of Azkaban."
Draco snorted. "She's known about magic for a month, if even that - I hardly think-"
"And there's your problem - you don't think. She's a Manipulator and the only advantage you have over her is that she doesn't know anything about it. That doesn't change the fact that she's used to getting her own way and knows what generally works, even if she doesn't know why. She will play you like a fiddle if given half the chance."
Draco looked unhappy at the accusation. "You don't think she could be. . .you know. . .useful?"
"She'll be incredibly useful, but if you want to play games with her you'd better be damned well prepared. Potter and Granger will still be tutoring her despite her sorting. However, I have given my recommendation that you assist also."
"What? With them?" Draco asked, positively disgusted.
"Especially with them. Do you want them feeding her ideas? You know as well as I that 'Professor' Umbridge is going to shake this school up very soon, and not for everyone's benefit. Miss Raveien needs her allegiances aligned by that time if she is going to have any possibility of being 'useful'." Severus took a deep breath, his face suddenly a great deal more grim. "But that is not why I called you here. Your father sent me this this morning." He handed the parchment to Draco, whose face paled as he read. "He gave me explicit instruction that you are to remain here at the school."
"But sir-"
"I agree, as does the headmaster," Severus cut him off. "A forest with an unknown number of werewolves, two of which are confirmed to be magically trained, is no place for a student."
"But the full moon is tonight!"
"I am well aware of that, Draco, but it does not change the fact that it isn't safe for adults, let alone you. The Ministry is doing everything they can."
"But Eliza said she would make the Vow to keep Arnica safe!"
"You do not bring her up within these walls - is that understood?" Severus barked. "From what I have been able to glean, that all went according to plan."
"Then what-?"
"Use that thing on your shoulders, Draco - your father can't just walk up to the Ministry and say, 'look what I found in the guest wing, wonder how it got there'. This kidnapping is all over the Daily Prophet; half the school has already read about it, along with the better part of the Wizarding world. If your sister is found, I will take you to see her. Until then, you are to remain here, and nothing else other than her safety is to be on your mind."
"What do you mean 'if'? If this was a set-up, doesn't that mean she's safe?"
"She is still with a pack of werewolves. Unless they find her before the full moon rises tonight, she won't be found."
-.-.-
The Slytherins were busy in the common room, showering Draco with a mixture of genuine and feigned sympathy. This gave Maddie the needed time alone to sort through her letters upstairs. The first was from her brother, pretty much saying that everything would be okay - clearly the hat was faulty, and he would make Dumbledore put her in the correct house. He admitted he wasn't sure as to how, but he promised it would be done all the same.
Next was a letter from Sirius telling her not to worry, that he would keep her brother from doing anything stupid. And whilst it was clear he wasn't impressed with her house, he mentioned that it was her choices that would make her who she was, not her common room. Also included as well a brief complaint about his new name.
After that was a rather official letter from Dumbledore, informing her of her study timetable, as well as a tuition timetable that had been organized with Harry, Hermione, and Draco, and adding in a small note of congratulations on her sorting - completely genuine - but cautioning her all the same to be careful.
Hermione's letter was almost four pages, starting as a stiffly polite study guide, and then becoming more personal, asking why she hadn't trusted them with what she was planning. She understood and wasn't upset, and she would still help her.
She tucked the letters away at the bottom of her trunk, and successfully slipped out of the common room and began her search for Gryffindor Tower. It took about an hour to find the 'Fat Lady' Hermione had described. She was talking animatedly to another woman in her portrait. "Excuse me," Maddie said awkwardly, and both women turned to her.
"What do you want?" The Fat Lady demanded.
"I need to get into the Gryffindor common room."
Both women burst into laughter. "I think not. The Gryffindor common room is, ironically, only for Gryffindor students."
"But it's important," Maddie begged. "Please."
"Gryffindor students only," the Fat Lady said sharply. "Now scram."
"Well, could you at least ask someone to come out so I can talk to them?"
The Fat Lady gave a sharp laugh. "What Gryffindor would want to speak to a Slytherin?"
"Well, I can name at least three," Maddie replied, folding her arms.
"You can look for them elsewhere. Gryffindor students only." The Fat Lady vanished from the frame. Her friend laughed and vanished also.
"I hate these bloody paintings," she hissed venomously at the vacant canvas. She left to try her luck in the library, waiting for Hermione to make her inevitable trip.
-.-.-
"The answer is still no," Professor Dumbledore said calmly to the hysterical man before him.
"Your bloody hat is broken!"
"It most certainly is not!" McGonagall said defiantly. "The sorting hat has never been wrong, and we will not be changing her house. That is final. I understand your distress, but your father was in Slytherin, just as his parents were before him; there was always a chance of this."
"You all said she was certain to be a Gryffindor - and now you've put her in the evil house with the brat whose father kidnapped our sister!"
"The hat must have had good reason for putting her in Slytherin," Dumbledore explained for the umpteenth time. "There is no 'evil house', as you so delicately phrase it, at this school. Slytherins are ambitious, and no one can say that Madeline is anything but. Many great and respected wizards have been in Slytherin - Merlin, for example. I trust your sister also had good reason behind her choice against going into Gryffindor, and I am not convinced that she is going to turn into a menace to society."
"She's a kid, it doesn't matter what she wants! What kind of school are you running where children get what they want?"
"Troy, calm down," Sirius said. "Maddie's a smart girl-"
"Shut up, Sirius. My sister is not staying in that house!"
"Yes, I'm afraid she is," Dumbledore said.
"You said you would protect her! How can you protect her if she's in the same common room as the enemy?"
"They are students, not enemies. I understand your stress, Mr. Raveien. However, as Sirius said, she is a smart girl - I am quite confident she can manage herself. I'm sure everything will work out fine."
"So that's it, then? Hope for the best?" Troy demanded.
"It is all that any of us can ever hope for."
-.-.-
Troy was still irritated as he sat in a carriage with Rosmerta and Sirius. They made their way down the main street of Hogsmeade, Rosmerta pointing out the different shops and landmarks as they passed them so he could get an idea of the village layout.
"This is it," she announced, once they were a little ways of town: a small cottage with a garden completely overgrown with weeds, and ivy snaking around the external walls, seeking a way in. The paint on the door was almost completely gone, and several of the windowsills were weather-beaten and invaded by cobwebs.
Troy stepped out of the carriage, unimpressed. "I thought they said they fixed it up?"
"It has been," Rosmerta said indignantly, opening the low-lying gate and unlocking the front door. "No one has rented this place in decades because of the Shrieking Shack. The furniture is a little out-dated; however, still perfectly comfortable. If you purchase your own, just leave the existing stuff in the shed, no major renovations without notifying me first. . .Dumbledore asked that I leave the garden as is for you to gain some practical herbology experience. The bedrooms are upstairs, there's a potions den in the basement - explosion proof, and so forth. . .I think that covers it all." She took a last glance around. "As Dumbledore would have told you, the rent is around two hundred Galleons a month. You can owl it to me, or just drop it off at the pub, whichever you prefer. If there's anything you need, you know where to find me."
Troy looked around. Admittedly, the inside wasn't half as bad as he had expected, and seemed more welcoming than Grimmauld Place. Sirius had already wandered off to explore the rooms, tail wagging.
"I'll leave you to it, then," Rosmerta said, dropping the keys in Troy's hand.
"Thanks, I'll take care of it."
The moment Rosmerta left, Sirius transformed, picking up Titan's cage and letting her out into an owl nook which had an adjoining hole in the wall which she could come and go through as she needed, yet seemed to block the weather as though there was glass.
"So where's this passage to Hogwarts?" Troy asked, looking around the house.
"Across the road, in the Shrieking Shack," Sirius said, using his wand to levitate the trunks upstairs.
"Didn't Rosmerta say-?"
"You just saw a dozen ghosts at Hogwarts. Trust me, the castle is more haunted than that place. It's a. . .what do Muggles call it. . .a bourbon legend," Sirius said matter-of-factly, coming back down the stairs and making the rounds of the house. "Two hundred galleons a month for this place is cheap, Dumbledore did good. We'll need to replace the doorknobs with handles so I can use them as a dog. . .but other than that, everything seems to be in working order."
Troy wandered around. The bookshelves were already stocked with books about practical magic, as well as some seemingly incidental titles and historical literature. The kitchen had only the basic staples - not that it meant much, as his cooking skill was limited to soggy eggs and burnt toast. The potions den had a larder with a very limited, basic stock. However, there was plenty of room to add the ingredients Hermione had ordered him to buy.
Sirius quickly claimed the room with the least accessible view to the inside, which was fair enough as it would be his retreat. The last thing they needed was for his identity to be discovered by a nosy neighbour.
The backyard was large, but otherwise low-maintenance. There was enough room for some domestic stock if he cared for it, with an empty chicken coop around the side, and a shed stocked with rusted garden tools. A wall of dense trees marked the boundaries, offering enough privacy that Sirius could venture out without fear of being spotted. However, the front was very exposed - only a low-lying fence in need of a paint, for aesthetics rather than privacy.
With every passing minute it felt more homely, catering to his desire for a simple and uncomplicated magical life. Images of children and a family slipped into his mind, but were quickly chased away. One thing a time, he told himself.
-.-.-
The Greenweather brothers came to an open area. The smell of smoke from a smoldering fire filled the air. From the light of their wands, they could make out what appeared to be a pair of glasses randomly cast aside, and even though there was no sign any of the werewolves remained, they stayed out of the clearing.
"You were the one the hat considered for Gryffindor. . .you first," Andrew finally ordered his brother, after keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.
"Yeah, I'm brave, not stupid," Jonathan laughed, using his wand to transfigure a stick into a sizable rock. He threw it into the clearing. Nothing happened - no traps sprung, no magical ambushes. "Well, there you go." He smiled, gesturing at the rock.
"Heart of a lion you got there," Andrew mocked, cautiously making his way to where the rock had landed.
"That's why I got put into Ravenclaw," Jonathan joked, careful to step in his brother's footprints.
"Okay, genius, whose glasses are they?"
"You were the one who took Divination, you tell me."
"I only took it so I could sleep for a period," Andrew scoffed, bending down to take a closer look at them whilst Jonathan continued to explore for tracks. "Whoever owns these, they aren't going to do them much good anymore," he commented on the broken frames and lenses.
"Tracks are going in every direction. . .they can't have left too long ago. . .but there's no way we can follow all these before nightfall," Jonathan muttered, stepping over a half-rotten deer cadaver in disgust as he discovered yet another path leading away from the clearing.
Andrew charmed the glasses into a portkey to their current location. "I'll take this to the camp, and apparate back."
"Apparating into the middle of the forest - are you insane? You don't know this part well enough not to get yourself splinched in a tree."
"It's a big enough clearing to take the risk. Anyway, it would take half a day to get back here by foot, and it's not like we can take them on without backup," Andrew reasoned.
"You're a lunatic, you know that, right? Mum's going to kill you if she finds out about this."
"Mum's too busy making tea and keeping Mr. Malfoy from burning down the forest. I'll be back before you know it, just work on figuring out which of these tracks is the right one."
Most of the search parties were still out; the coordinators sent orders for them to come back. Mr. Malfoy was taking his anger and frustration out on his house elf, whilst Mrs. Greenweather continued to keep a steady supply of tea and sandwiches coming.
"We're running out of time, it's already getting late…"
"So?"
"I have to get my teams out of there by this evening," the search coordinator said. Andrew glanced down at the side of the manor, where out of sight of the press, Lucius was using his house elf for target practice.
"I'm guessing you'll be the one telling him that then," Andrew said cheerfully, watching the coordinator's face pale.
"It would be suicide sending people in there after dark!"
"If that was your kid, would you care?"
-.-.-
Disheartened by several hours of waiting, Maddie finally gave up on the library. Under any other circumstances she would have loved to explore the countless books, but the gut-twisting guilt was eating her up now that she had been left on her own. Regret weighed on her shoulders - the castle was huge; there was little chance of coming across them at random without other Slytherins in the vicinity.
Nonetheless, she decided to at least take advantage of the nice day outside, not wanting to go back to the common room and deal with the general awkwardness there. She hadn't been for a good run since being taken in by witches and wizards, and the grounds of Hogwarts sprawled. Many students who were enjoying what remained of the good weather gave her curious looks as she picked up the pace from a steady jog.
It was exhilarating. For the first time in almost a month, she felt like herself again, felt as though all her worries were behind her, struggling to catch up to her fast pace. She knew they would when she stopped, but for the time present she enjoyed it. The muscles in her legs protested after such a long time since being pushed, but she kept going, turning the pain inward, using it to drive her further. She would find a way to save Eliza, no matter the cost.
Draco said he liked games. Let's just see how much he likes them after playing with me.
She slowed to a jog as she followed the banks of the lake, and finally allowed herself to flop onto the grass, her demons coming back with her breath.
She couldn't fail, wouldn't. She would prove to all of them she was more than a child who needed taking care of.
-.-.-
Time seemed to have a sick sense of humour as the sun began to sink behind the horizon. It seemed like only a few hours had passed, but by the time the brothers found the right tracks, their deadline weighed heavily on their minds. It was sheer luck they had stumbled on a small lookout party, and even luckier they hadn't been spotted. Eventually, the tracks led them to the camp, which even from this distance they could see was swarming with werewolves. It seemed they had intentionally chosen this spot, no doubt so they could greet the full moon in all their glory - the canopy was thin enough to make out the darkening sky.
"Look at them all. . ."
"Looks like a lot of them are kids. . ."
"I don't think that makes their bite any less dangerous," Andrew reminded him quietly. "Over there." He pointed off to the side. There was a woman chained to a tree, clearly in poor condition, holding their prize; Arnica was also chained, clinging onto the woman for dear life. "There's only a few guarding them."
"You've got to be joking…"
Andrew grinned. "We don't have long before the sun is completely gone, and the others are only a mile back - the moment we attack, they're going to hear it and come racing. All we have to do is cripple the weres'; the change will be kill them if they are injured enough. At last half of them are kids, so they won't have any magic. The only ones we need to look out for are the adults. That, or we can sit and discuss it for half an hour and wait for them to turn, if you'd rather?"
Jonathan reluctantly grabbed a rock and quietly transfigured it into an enchanted snitch. "Show them the way," he whispered quietly, before throwing it towards the clearing where a second camp had been set up. "Your idea, so you get to hold them off whilst I free them, deal?"
Andrew's grin turned serious. "Let's hunt."
-.-.-
Eliza winced as Arnica held her tighter, putting pressure on some of the bites which still had a painful burning sensation. Voldemort had said they could only turn her at the full moon, but from what she could see of the bites, she was beginning to question the accuracy of that statement - dark lines had spread from them, and at a glance she would have thought cellulitis, but they were spreading at a frightening rate. Her entire body ached, cramps taking hold of her legs every few minutes.
Something had changed, made the werewolves uneasy. Many raised their noses to sniff the air. A rescue, perhaps? They didn't have much time.
Eliza nudged Arnica to bring her attention to what was going on. "When I say so, you run," she whispered. "Can you do that?"
Arnica rubbed her dirty face free of tears and nodded between sniffles.
The first explosion made them jump, and Eliza curled into a ball over Arnica as a second explosion sounded somewhere above them and chaos immediately ensued. Two men appeared, one busily casting spells at the disoriented werewolves whilst the other dashed toward her and Arnica. The chains around the tree exploded. She pulled Arnica to her feet, not wasting time asking who they were or where they came from.
"That way, we'll cover you - go!" he shouted, and Eliza obeyed, grabbing Arnica's hand and running as fast as she could. Her body screamed in protest, but fear and adrenaline kept her going, lifting Arnica over obstacles as needed. She looked back. The men hadn't followed them, staying at the camp to cover their escape. Arnica's scream brought her back to what was happening ahead. Fenrir stood in their path.
"This way!" Eliza ordered, veering off course, half-dragging Arnica. The girl tripped and fell, and Eliza quickly scooped her up and carried her as best she could whilst running. Her body was running off pure adrenaline now, barely noticing or caring as she scraped herself on sticks and stones.
-.-.-
Lucius led a team of rescuers where the snitch directed them. By the time they reached the clearing, the Greenweather brothers were starting to retreat, looking worse for the wear. The others sprang into action as Lucius grabbed the nearest brother. "Where is she?" he shouted over the noise of the fight.
"We told them to run this way whilst we covered their escape - you. . .you didn't cross paths with them?" Andrew panted.
Lucius's face paled. The sun had set, and the full moon would be out any moment.
-.-.-
Eliza continued to run, not daring to look back to see if she was still being followed, but at the same time not knowing how much more her body could take. Somewhere ahead she heard the sound of a lone wolf's howl, and changed her course again as another and another joined in chorus. The chain around her ankle caught on a branch, causing her to tumble down the bank of a large ditch, Arnica screaming as they slid whilst Eliza tried to slow the speed.
She scrambled to her feet when she hit bottom, and looked up. Arnica stopped crying, also staring in horror. A transformed werewolf stared down at them, a slow growl coming from its throat.
Eliza edged back, softly pleading with Arnica to be quiet as her terrified sob began building to a scream. Eliza's heel hit the side of the bank and she slipped a little. The werewolf pounced on them. Eliza curled over Arnica as they both screamed.
-.-.-
Reinforcements from the Ministry arrived and were driving back the attack, and then a chorus of howls alerted them that time was up. Andrew and Jonathan had gotten separated from the main group as they searched for Arnica, and listened in horror as the werewolves transformed. An ear-spitting scream brought them sharply back to reality.
Andrew was closest, and it didn't take him long to find them. They were at the bottom of a ditch, the woman curled protectively over Arnica as two werewolves charged at some bubble shield of light that she had somehow created around them. Already, he could see weak points forming.
Eliza fought to remain conscious. She didn't know how she did it, or why she hadn't done it earlier, but each time the werewolves hit the shield she felt the full impact on her body, more and more as the shield weakened. Exhaustion and delirium were taking over, her vision blurred and unsteady, her body convulsing violently, her head spinning so bad she wasn't even sure she was upright. She thought she had seen someone, but that was ridiculous - everyone had turned. Oh, how she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep. . .
She felt warm, moist air on her face as the werewolf finally broke through, followed by an eruption of heat. She struggled to keep her eyes open, and saw something red and hot pinning one of the werewolves to the bank just to the side of them, keeping it from reaching her. There was a flash of green light, and the other collapsed dead over her. And then the world went black.
Lucius scrambled down the bank, flinging the dead wolf off of them and going straight of his daughter. "Arnica, it's okay, Daddy's here, you're okay," he said over and over, holding the screaming child close and trying to console her. But she wouldn't let go of Eliza's limp body, forcing Lucius to turn his attention to her.
"Wake up," he said, slapping her face with increased force as she failed to respond. "Wake up! She's not breathing!" Lucius called out, and one of the Ministry men slid down the bank with a vial in his hand.
"Who is she?"
"Get a list of missing witches, and take it to the Minister at St. Mungo's," the man in charge ordered.
"Swallow, damn it!" Lucius shook her in frustration.
Eliza gave a few coughs, and there was a collective sigh of relief.
"We need to get out of here," a member from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures said. "We don't know how many more of them there might be. A lot of them retreated; I don't fancy another battle once they regroup, not in here at least. And she needs to get to a healer fast."
Lucius held Eliza, with Arnica still clinging onto her for dear life, and disapparated to St. Mungo's, where a team of healers were on standby to tend to anyone injured during the rescue.
-.-.-
The constant beeping was driving Janice nuts - who backed up a truck at this time of night? Her eyelids felt heavy, and her body was numb from exhaustion. She opened her eyes, finding herself somewhere completely unfamiliar. It took a few moments to recognise it as a hospital room. Several bouquets of flowers, Get Well Soon balloons, and a number of congratulations filled every space. Congratulations? For what? Everything felt so cloudy. . .the heart monitor continued with the incessant beeping. She pulled out the IV needle and tried to sit up.
A sharp pain hit her on her side, and pulling aside the hospital gown, she saw a fresh dressing. Painfully, she reached for her medical clip.
"I was shot?" she muttered to herself, desperately trying to remember something. Looking at the dates, it seemed that she had lost several days. . .what the hell had happened?
The door opened, and her partner stepped in, talking to a nurse.
"What the hell happened to me?" Janice asked groggily. "I. . .I don't remember."
Lloyd looked confused. "You don't remember any of it?"
"I remember riots, and being called into London for an assignment, but. . .I don't remember any of it. . .I don't even remember the assignment. . ."
"Why can't she remember?" Lloyd asked the nurse, who was busily checking Janice's injuries and reinserting the IV drip.
"It could be post-traumatic stress," the nurse said distractedly. "I'll arrange to have a councillor come in and see her."
"PTS? What the hell was I doing?" Janice demanded.
-.-.-
I know, we don't like cliffhangers, but please do leave a short review letting me know your thoughts on the chapter.
I'll get the next chapter out hopefully within a week.
Thank you all.