A/N: This is a very long chapter, but it didn't feel right to break it into two chapters. It's sad… This entire story is just sad…
Revised and edited as of 8/6/14
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Chapter 18: Of Timeless Devotion
Rowan sat by Damocles Belby's bed as soon as she was permitted to. He'd undergone extensive operations as soon as he'd arrived at St. Mungo's, and though the Healers had worked hours on him, they informed her that the damage done to his respiratory system and nervous system had been too severe – he probably wouldn't survive through the week.
Kingsley had sent her word that the Death Eater they'd arrested was named Igor Karkaroff, a foreign wizard from Bulgaria. While being questioned, he'd admitted that he had come with an accomplice, who had escaped in the mayhem but was responsible for the fire. Although he seemed to be talking, Karkaroff wouldn't release any names yet without being offered a deal, and Rowan was relieved that Kingsley and Moody weren't taking it. The pure anger and hatred that Rowan felt shook her body, and she had never been filled with such a desire to hurt someone. She suddenly understood the darkness that she had seen in Remus with great bitterness.
But she stayed by Belby's side, wavering between staring listlessly at his broken form and half-sleep – she didn't know how long she'd been there. Had it been hours or days? His entire body was covered in bandages with red, raw flesh peeking out from beneath the gauzy white strips. Her eyes stung with hot tears as she scanned over where large parts of the left side of his face were suddenly missing. If she hadn't known it was him, would she have recognized his face?
She held his good hand throughout the night and slept next to him with her head rested on the mattress, praying silently that maybe her energy might seep into him. She dreamt of green fire and melted snow.
When she woke the next morning, her hands still clung to his. But there was also a tightness in his grip. She sat up and looked at his face, then jerked when she saw that his good eye was cracked open slightly.
"Master Belby!" she cried. She wanted to crow with joy, but it was dampened at the slowness of his gaze. His focus shifted slowly, painfully, and she could tell that it took him great effort to even move his eye towards her. Her throat felt tight.
"Master Belby," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't save you," she apologized. The tears began to fall again.
"All of your work!" she sobbed. "Fabian could only save one box. After everything we did… After all that you've done, how could this…" she trailed off, unable to continue. She gripped his hand tightly.
When he squeezed her hand back, she looked back up at him and saw a shining glimmer at the corner of his eye. He squeezed her hand again, and she stared at him disbelievingly. Damocles Belby was crying. She felt her tears fall freely, horrified and ashamed. How had things turned out this way?
He breathed hard, as if trying to speak but was unable and squeezed her hand tighter. A sob threatened to tear from her lungs. The tear finally broke from the crease of his eye and began to roll down his face. It shimmered and seemed to catch the light. But no - it was emitting the light. Rowan was suddenly filled with understanding.
She tore her hands from his and groped around her coat pocket, pulling out an empty glass vial. She stood and held the lip to his cheek, and the tear pooled into it. Another few tears streaked down his face like liquid silver, and she carefully pulled the vial away and corked it.
She gazed at the vial in her hands, which glowed brightly, and then looked back to Belby, who had closed his eyes again. He breathed deeply, wheezing, and she was overcome with bittersweet affection for the man. She reached down to squeeze his hand again, and he squeezed back lightly. Within a few minutes, his breath evened out again. He had fallen back asleep.
When she knew that he was resting soundly, she slipped her hand from his and pulled her coat on, but just as she reached the door, it swung open. Remus stood there wide-eyed and startled.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I need a Pensieve!" she declared fiercely.
His mouth took on a taut line. "We have to see Dumbledore," he said quietly before taking her hand in his and leading her out of the room.
Rowan gazed up at Hogwarts with a deep longing ache. She hadn't returned to the castle since they'd graduated, and all of her memories there came rushing back at just the sight of its tall towers against the bleak gray sky. Remus had Apparated them to Hogsmeade and then sent a Patronus ahead of them to inform the Headmaster that they were coming. As they walked up the path to the castle, he gripped her hand tightly. She wasn't sure how to feel about it.
When they reached the castle, Professor McGonagall was at the entrance waiting for them. Her mouth was a firm line, but her eyes were full of grief.
"Delacroix, I'm so sorry to hear what happened," she said emphatically.
Rowan nodded in acknowledgement and thanked her old Head of House for her kind words. McGonagall then led them up to Professor Dumbledore's office.
When they reached the gargoyle in the Headmaster's Tower, she muttered, "Sassafras," and the statue leapt to the side, revealing a spiral staircase.
When they reached the top, Rowan marveled at the wondrous circular room. In all the years that she'd been at Hogwarts, the Headmaster's office still remained the most fantastic to her, and she regretted slightly that she hadn't gotten into enough trouble to be sent there more often. As she gazed around the room, she saw a stone basin with intricate runes carved into it set in a cabinet against the wall, already open. She recognized it as the Pensieve that Remus had mentioned.
Professor Dumbledore sat at his desk, which was covered in intricate, whirring shiny instruments, and she felt great relief at just the sight of the old wizard. There was something so safe, so reassuring about this man. She couldn't believe that anyone would ever gaze at him without something along the lines of adoration and security.
"Rowan, Remus, so good to see you," he said softly. "I'm so terribly sorry to hear what has happened to Damocles. I am planning on going to see him later this evening," he said sadly.
Rowan smiled sadly. "Thank you, Professor. I'm sure he'll appreciate it," she said. Remus squeezed her hand.
Dumbledore nodded. "So Remus says you need to use my Pensieve," he said. He gestured to the instrument and stood calmly from his desk. "You are most welcome to it. I will show you how it works, and then I'll leave you to your privacy," he said, walking over to the basin.
Rowan and Remus followed him over. She handed him the vial of Belby's memories, which he poured into the basin. They swirled slowly in a silvery haze, and she thought she might be hypnotized by it.
"All you need to do is lean into the memory, and the Pensieve will do the rest!" he said lightly. "And now, I will leave you to it." He looked to Remus, who squeezed Rowan's hand once more and gave her a burning look but then left with the Headmaster. When she heard the door at the bottom of the spiral staircase shut, she turned back to the basin.
The memories swirled slowly, soothingly. She stuck her finger in experimentally. She'd expected it to be wet, but it was cool and gaseous and had no further effect on her.
Lean into it.
She leaned forward over the basin, lower, lower, until her face hovered above the silver gas. With a deep breath, she lowered her nose into the silvery swirl and felt herself being sucked forward, turning, twisting, falling into Damocles Belby's past.
Rowan found herself in the laboratory. Besides the area that had been made her workspace, the room looked exactly the same. She saw Belby sitting at his desk, scribbling into a notebook. His back was hunched in its usual way, his shoulders up by his ears in concentration. Rowan moved closer with chest tight - she wanted to see his whole face - and nearly gasped at his appearance. His hair was darker, thicker than she'd ever seen. His eyes, though still with glasses, were brighter, clearer. There weren't any tired lines set into his face, and the scowl that she had grown accustomed to wasn't there either. He looked so much younger, so much kinder. He looked to be about thirty, possibly even younger.
She heard the chiming of the front door, but Alexander's voice was missing. The air felt empty without it.
"Hello?" a voice called out. It was female.
"Down here!" he called up. His voice was still rough but held none of the harshness to it that she'd always heard from him. It sounded warm, comforting almost. She wanted to hear it again.
A soft step was heard from the stairs, followed by another hesitant tap of shoe on wood. Slowly, a young woman made her way down, each step a carefully considered movement, tight with nerves. As she approached, Rowan saw dark rings beneath her eyes. Her cheeks looked sunken. Her clothes, though well-kept, were old and worn out. She had a long red scar running down her neck, and Rowan suddenly understood.
"Please, have a seat," Belby gestured towards an empty chair at the end of his desk. She moved forward, still nervous, and sat down quietly, feet drawn beneath the seat and hands fidgeting at her lap.
She looked harder at the woman's face as she sat. She was blonde and petite, though the lines in her features made her look tired and older than she probably was. She had a heart-shaped face with a small mouth and round eyes that looked much too large for her thin face. Her hair was pulled back modestly and had a few streaks of silvery white in it. She was very pretty. Rowan felt a dull sense of deja vu.
"Ms. Acina, right?" Belby asked, assessing her briefly before turning back to his notes.
"Marie is fine, sir," she said quietly.
Belby nodded vaguely. "Please, just call me Damocles," he said calmly. His voice wasn't very expressive, but it was warm. She marveled at how different he was.
"So why is it that you're willing to take on this position? It's not exactly safe, particularly for such a young woman," he said, eyeing her cautiously.
Marie seemed to be turning her thoughts through her head. "Well, to be honest, I need the money, sir – uh, Damocles," she said weakly.
He frowned. "It's not a great deal of money though," he said. He then looked harder at her. "A potions tester is quite a risky job, and it's not exactly a full-time position. Don't you think it'd be more appropriate to find work elsewhere? A young woman like you could easily find a job that poses less of a threat to your health," he said seriously.
She grimaced and seemed to be lost in thought again. Her hands wrung in her lap tightly. Rowan examined her thin fingers and saw a series of small, pearly nicks running up and down them. Her mouth trembled slightly.
"I can't find another job," she finally admitted softly, shame written across her features. She almost looked physically pained by her admission. "I'm… I'm a werewolf, you see. No one will hire me," she said tinily, looking down at her hands with her voice trembling.
Belby's eyes widened with understanding. He looked her over carefully with some fear in his eyes. He leaned back slightly as if afraid that he might catch this terrible disease from her, and she shrunk back with embarrassment.
"A werewolf?" he breathed. Rowan noted the horror in his voice with great surprise. She stood next to Marie almost defensively before remembering that neither of them could see her.
Marie's head bowed with shame. Rowan's hands clenched with softly flaring anger. She thought of Remus' shame, his self-loathing. She was suddenly grateful for men like Dumbledore and Fabian Prewett, who were open-minded enough to see Remus for what he was and not for the condition that had been forced upon him. She was grateful that Remus hadn't gone through such a demoralizing ordeal.
But then Belby's gaze softened slightly. He leaned back forward slowly, eyes scanning over this frail woman's tiny frame. Her gaze remained downward, limbs pulled in tightly. Rowan watched as Belby's own posture loosened and unfolded.
"How old are you?" he finally asked softly.
Marie's head jerked up with surprise. Her mouth gaped slightly. She looked at him like he was a ghost. He smiled gently at her. Her lip quivered.
"I'm twenty-one, sir," she said weakly.
He nodded. "Twenty-one," he echoed softly. He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, mouth twisting with thought. Rowan recognized the gesture as her master's with a surge of warmth. "I'm assuming you weren't able to attend Hogwarts. Do you know any magic?" he asked stiffly. "Have a wand?"
She nodded eagerly, head bobbing jerkily. "My mum's," she said in a rush. Rowan saw a slight spark in her eyes at the topic of magic. "My parents taught me as much as they could, and I've been studying some potion-making on my own lately. It's all fascinating, especially Golpalott. I'm reading a biography about him right now actually," she said quickly. Rowan felt her chest swell with affection for this young woman. Her enthusiasm nearly mirrored her own.
Belby smiled fondly. The expression seemed so foreign. Rowan had never even considered what he might look like smiling so gently, but it fit his face somehow, just right. "Yes, Golpalott is quite the fascinating figure - an amazing thinker," he agreed softly. Marie smiled sheepishly and smiled, a pretty blush rising to her pale cheeks. The smile on Belby's face deepened slightly in response. He sighed defeatedly.
"Alright, you can have the job," he conceded. Marie's entire body seemed to jerk in response. Her chest shot forward, back straight as a board.
"Really?" she breathed disbelievingly. Her eyes were as wide and round and the moon. Belby nodded, smiling crookedly.
"You can also manage my shop part time," he said softly. "It's a simple job, and I won't be able to pay you much, but it's something. I have plenty of books you can look over too while tending to the shop. I'm sure you can find something in there to keep you busy."
Marie's entire body trembled. Her large eyes filled with tears, and she wiped furiously at them. She looked back up at him with fire in her gaze, and Rowan was struck suddenly by how young she looked. She wondered if she'd ever looked at Belby like that.
"Thank you so much, sir!" Marie exclaimed. Her mouth had already stretched into the most disbelieving, elated smile. Her hands trembled and awkwardly flailed slightly, elbows still pulled in tightly. "I promise you won't regret it. I swear I won't burden you. Thank you so much!" she rambled, flooding with gratitude.
Belby laughed lightly. "I'm sure you will. And again, Damocles is fine," he said, standing.
She stood with him, shaking his hand furiously with raw gratitude, and he guided her back to the stairs. They walked back up to the shop together, and as Rowan heard him opening the door for Marie, the memory faded away into another.
She was suddenly standing in the shop. Rowan looked about her and saw that, like the laboratory, not much had changed over the years. The same shelves lined the walls in a very similar organizational system. Rowan nearly smiled - Belby was a creature of habit through and through, it seemed. It was somewhat comforting.
Marie was perched in a seat at the counter, but what surprised Rowan was that Belby was also seated there, talking softly with her. There was a potions book open in front of them, and he was gesturing to a diagram in it, explaining it to her. She looked enthralled by it, excitement dancing in her eyes. She looked back and forth between the book and Belby with an expression of wonder and awe on her features.
Belby, in turn, spoke fervently about the book's contents. He gesticulated animatedly, his voice undulating more than Rowan had thought was possible for the usually monotonous man. He smiled warmly at the blonde woman beside him. Between them, there was a large bar of chocolate lying out on its unfolded metal wrapper, a few pieces missing.
Marie's hair was pulled back loosely from her face, and Rowan noted that there was a new, thin scar that ran right above her left eyebrow. But she looked happy, and her skin seemed to glow with it. Rowan noticed the light blush that would dust her cheeks whenever Belby would look at her intensely. She obviously adored him.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and the bell rang. Marie looked up brightly and smiled at the large man who appeared in the doorway.
"Welcome!" she said. Her voice sounded much brighter and stronger than it had in the previous memory. "Can I help you with anything today?"
The man beamed at the young woman. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a heavy brow and a rosy, squared face.
"I was wondering if you carried any garden gnome repellant. I've got a terrible infestation, and the missus said she'd tear me head off if I didn't do something about it soon," he said jovially. Marie smiled broadly and stood, moving around the counter and leading the man to a far-off shelf.
Rowan looked back at Belby and was shocked at the expression on his face. He was gazing at Marie with the gentlest look she'd ever seen on him. It was yearning, hungry almost. She recognized it as the same look Remus used to aim at her with a dull ache of sadness.
Belby was in love with this girl.
Suddenly, she heard a yelp and looked back at Marie and the large man. She nearly jumped as she saw that he had grabbed her roughly by the upper arm, eyes scanning furiously over her face. Rowan instinctively moved towards them and shouted at him angrily but realized dumbly that she was in a memory. He reached up and grabbed Marie's jaw, twisting her face to the side, and Rowan saw his eyes widen angrily at the scar that ran up her neck.
"A werewolf!" he shouted, pushing Marie back so that she stumbled into the shelf behind her. She crumpled to the ground and gasped with panic, twisting around quickly to steady the shelf as the bottles clinked dangerously against each other.
"You've hired a werewolf!" the man shouted at Belby. "What is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill all of us?" he accused angrily.
Belby had jumped to his feet the moment the large man had grabbed Marie and was already in the man's face with his wand.
"She's not dangerous!" he shouted at the larger man. "Just look at her! She's just a girl! Apologize to her now!"
The large man roared with anger and shoved Belby away from him violently. Belby slammed hard into another cabinet of potions, which crashed to the ground, the glass display windows shattering, scattering glass around them in a deafening wave. Marie screamed with fright.
But just as his attacker had pulled his wand out, Belby shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and the large man was thrown backward, onto the ground. His wand was tossed to the side and skidded towards the door.
Belby scrambled to his feet and ran at the man, jabbing his wand in his face. The large man raised his hands up in defeat. Belby was panting, his hair and robes disheveled. His glasses were slightly skewed on his nose.
"Get out," he spat. "You're no longer welcome in my shop." The man on the ground seemed to be frozen, staring blankly up at him. "GET OUT!" he shouted.
The man scrambled to his feet and grabbed his wand on the way out. He ran out the door and didn't look back. The doorbell's small chime filled the now silent space emptily.
Belby seethed and stared after his lost customer then remembered Marie. He turned quickly and saw the girl, still crumpled on the ground, staring up at him with tears in her eyes. He moved towards her with worry etched across his face.
"Damocles," she whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never should've let you hire me. Look what I've done to your shop!" she sobbed. Tears were falling from her eyes.
"No," he said firmly, grabbing her hands. "You didn't do anything. You were doing your job. That man did this, not you. None of this is your fault," he said fiercely. His eyes burned into her, and she looked as if she might break.
Her lip trembled. "But it was because of me!" she cried. "You're too kind, too good! I can't stay here, or you'll start losing all of your customers! I have to-" she started but then she looked around her wildly, hysterically. She pulled her hands from his as if he'd shocked her and frantically started picking up pieces of the broken glass.
"Marie, leave it," he said firmly, but she continued, seemingly deaf to his voice. Her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she fumbled for the glass pieces. They tinkered and clacked against each other in her tiny palm.
"Marie!" he said, beginning to sound angry. His tone suddenly reminded her of the Belby she knew.
Finally, he grabbed her by the wrist, making her drop the glass shards in her hands and pulled her to him. She gasped, but it was silenced quickly as he covered her mouth with his.
Her eyes remained wide and scared as he moved his lips against her slowly, but as he reached a hand up to her hair, her eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed him back, hands trembling and knotted at the front of his robes. Rowan's stomach twisted painfully. She felt dirty for watching them. She shifted awkwardly, as if someone might walk in on them.
When he pulled away, Belby reached up and cradled her face in his hands. He gazed at her ardently before speaking. "I'm going to find a cure for your disease, and you will never have to go through this again," he whispered. "I promise you. Stay with me."
Marie's chin trembled, and she burst into tears again. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed, great and heaving. He held her to him tightly and rocked her gently. As Rowan watched them seated together in the middle of the sea of broken glass, her chest ached sharply, and she thought of Remus. She was sucked out the memory again.
When the memory solidified, Rowan didn't know where she was. She stood in a house she didn't recognize, in a room that reminded her of her own home's drawing room with old leather chairs and a large fireplace. Belby stood in front of an older man, who was seated in a large chair. She saw the resemblance between the two and guessed that the older man was his father. Both were bristling with rage, and as the volume suddenly came into focus, her ears were filled with deafening shouts.
"Stop talking nonsense!" the older man shouted at Damocles. "Seriously, a werewolf? What the hell is the matter with you, boy?" he boomed.
"It doesn't matter that she's a werewolf!" Belby argued back. "If you'd just meet her - if you would just talk to her, just once - you'd see that she's a good girl, that's she's sweet and kind and-"
"Can you hear yourself?" bellowed elder Belby. A vein throbbed at his temple with fury. "Do you hear the rubbish spewing from your mouth? You will ruin us with your stupidity! Just have your way with the Halfbreed whore and move on!"
Belby's eyes flared with anger. "You can't speak about her that way! I love her, and I'm going to marry her whether you like it or not!" he shouted. His face was red, and she saw the vein throb in his forehead.
The older man's face reddened as well, and he stood menacingly, facing off with his son. "If you marry that monster, I will disown you!" he threatened. "I have no need for an ungrateful bastard like you bearing my name, after all that I've done for you! After all the money I've poured into that damned apothecary of yours! This is how you repay me?"
"Disown me then!" Belby shouted at his father. "I don't want anything to do with a family that's so ignorant, so evil, that you can't see past all the prejudice to see the woman I'm in love with!"
His father roared with anger. "Get out of this house! GET OUT!" he screamed, throwing a glass into the fireplace. It shattered loudly, and Rowan flinched as she saw a few pieces of broken glass fly.
Belby turned angrily and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The older man continued to scream with rage, throwing the entire bottle of liquor into the fire with thrashing arms. Rowan raced after Belby quickly to get away from this frightening man, moving through the walls to keep up. As they reached the foyer, Marie was standing there alone, looking pale and frightened.
"Damocles," she started weakly, but he rushed forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards the door.
"We're leaving," he spat angrily. "This entire family can burn in hell!"
She trembled and stumbled after him as he threw the door open. As they stepped out onto the front porch, he stopped and looked down at her. Her eyes were wide with fear and searching his face desperately. His expression softened.
"I love you, Marie," he whispered. Her lips trembled. "And if you'll have me then I promise to make you happy. I want you to be my wife," he said fervently.
Her chin trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. But she blinked them away and smiled brightly at him. She nodded jerkily and a small laugh bubbled from her chest. It rang clear and broke through the night. He beamed and held her to him tightly, and as he buried his face in her golden hair, they Disapparated on the spot.
When Rowan regained her footing, she was no longer in the shop or in a house or seemingly even in London. She looked about her and realized that she was in a strange single-room hut. She looked outside the small, solitary window and saw that they were in a forest that she didn't recognize. It was dense, though she could see through the tops of the trees that it was nearly dark. The walls were covered in ancient runes and protective spells that she'd never seen before. She turned back to the couple before her and saw that Marie was completely naked and on the verge of tears. There were crumpled white flowers scattered at their feet.
"Damocles, this is a terrible idea," she said desperately. "You need to leave right now!" she said beseechingly.
But Belby remained in front of her, his hands gripping her shoulders with excitement.
"No, this is going to work! All of the trials before now have been perfect. This is going to work! You have to believe me!" he whispered heatedly to her, but Marie lowered her head and shook it violently. Rowan saw a few tears fall to the floor.
"Damocles, please," she begged. "You have to leave now! Please!" She was sobbing now, and a terrible sense of dread filled Rowan's stomach.
But as Belby was about to answer her, Marie's entire body seemed to seize. Rowan spun around to the window, eyes widening with horror. The moon was high in the sky, so bright and yellow and full.
Rowan spun back around to see Belby staring at Marie cautiously. He took one step back slowly. Rowan watched with horror as Marie's eyes dilated.
Her entire body suddenly snapped forward, doubling over at the waist. Her back hunched and twisted. Her arms wrapped around herself tightly, as if in pain. Her nails began to tear at her own skin, clawing at it wildly, voice scratching and grunting with pain. Then there was a pop, then another, and another, as each vertebrae and rib seemed to pop out of place and elongate and stretch. Little dark speckles spread across her skin until Rowan worked up the courage to move closer - it was hair. She cringed as it pierced through the blonde woman's skin.
Marie continued to thrash and cry out in pain and anger as each bone and stretch of skin seemed to pull and twist agonizingly. But then, finally, she stilled. Rowan thought for a moment that the memory had stopped, but then she saw Belby move.
"Marie," he whispered. "Marie, it's working!" he breathed. His eyes were wide with elation.
But then the grotesque twisting continued. Her limbs stretched and cracked, and then she looked up, revealing the blackest, deepest eyes Rowan had ever imagined. Her face, too, had contorted into a long snout with long, sharp teeth bared, glinting in the moonlight. She was a full lycanthrope.
Panic seized Rowan. She turned frantically to Belby, who seemed to be frozen to the spot.
"Run!" she shouted at him but realized again that she was in a memory. Belby moved slowly towards the door, eyes never leaving Marie, who had also kept her focus on the thin wizard. She didn't move, however, and Rowan thought he might just be able to escape unscathed when Marie roared and leapt at him.
Belby screamed and flung the door open, hitting Marie in the face before running out and slamming it behind him. He held it shut, pushing his body up against the surface. The charms on the house seemed to hold Marie in, for she threw herself at the walls and window to no avail – she was trapped.
But just as Belby had taken a moment to breathe with relief, there was a crash of glass, and the blood drained from his face. Marie was clawing her way out of the hut, glass shards scratching her face and tangling in her fur. Belby took off sprinting into the woods.
Panting hard, he sprinted as fast as he could and looked around frantically for a place to hide, a place to climb. Rowan watched the young version of her Potions Master with horrified disbelief – how could this foolish man really be Master Belby? How had been so arrogant to think that his first experiment with a human subject would be successful? Had he not even considered a backup plan?
But as he spun around, Marie burst from the trees and rushed at him. He dodged, but one of her claws caught him in the side. He cried out in pain and held his wand out towards her. They circled each other, Marie growling lowly. But then she leapt at him again, and he threw a shot of red light at her.
"Stupefy!" he shouted. Marie whimpered at the hit and Belby took the opportunity to run.
He ran and ran, gasping for breath, until he saw a clearing – a field of white flowers. They were white and pristine and seemed to go on forever. Just as he was about to make it out of the woods, however, Marie came charging up behind him.
He ducked as she soared over his head, landing somewhat ungracefully a good distance beyond him, roaring. They circled each other again, and Rowan couldn't breathe as she watched them.
"Marie, please!" Belby called out desperately, but the werewolf's face showed no recognition. She growled, and Rowan could see the hysteria in Belby.
Marie then charged at him again, and Rowan could see by his labored movements that he wouldn't be able to dodge her this time. She squeezed her eyes shut with terror.
"STUPEFY!"
She heard a blast followed by a sharp yelp of pain and a horrifying crunch. Rowan opened her eyes slowly and saw Belby, wide-eyed and pale but unharmed. She turned, and the sight sent a wave of nausea through her.
The werewolf was impaled on a short branch from a tree at the edge of the field, red blood dripping down the end of the branch. She whimpered pathetically and wriggled weakly against the trunk but was unable to get herself free.
Belby moved towards the tree, staggering drunkenly as if his knees had locked. He stood next to the werewolf as she struggled, watching with open-mouthed horror. As she lost strength, the field began to glow faintly, a haunting light emitted from the white flowers. Rowan saw her features begin to distort again. Slowly, the hair fell away, and the bones shrank beneath the skin, popping sickeningly back into place. In a few moments, the werewolf was gone, and Marie – blonde, frail, and naked – stood in its place. Her entire body trembled against the trunk, and all of the color had left her face. Blood stained her stomach and hands darkly, smearing across her pale skin.
Belby fell forward, panicking.
"Darling, just hold still. Hold still. Hold still!" he rambled. "I'll get you out. I promise! I'll get you out!"
Marie gasped shakily for breath, and Rowan could hear the wheezing – there was blood in her lungs.
Belby was still rambling madly, moving around the branch of the tree, searching desperately for a way to remove her from it. "Darling, I'm so sorry. We'll get you out, and then we'll go home. We're going to go home, so just hold still. We're going to go home!" His hands were trembling like mad, and his legs seemed to be ready to collapse at any moment.
Marie laid a calm hand on Belby's face. He jerked up to look at her, and she smiled gently. She coughed slightly, and a thin line of blood sprayed from her mouth and down her chin.
"It's okay," she whispered. "It's all okay." She looked up at the moon, and her round eyes glowed like two smaller reflections of the celestial body. The lines in her young face seemed to melt away. "I finally… I finally got to see the full moon," she whispered.
Belby's entire body was shaking. Tears spilled from his eyes, mixing with the blood that had stained his cheeks from her hand, His breath came in short gasps.
Marie looked back down at him, still smiling serenely but eyes drooping. "I love you, Damocles. I love you so very much," she whispered. Her head began to loll.
He grasped her hands, groping for her fingers. "I love you, Marie. I love you. I love you! Don't leave me. Don't leave me," he rambled with panic. His hands held her face desperately, pushing her hair back.
She smiled weakly at him, but her head rolled forward, and her arms sagged. "Thank you," she breathed, "I…"
Rowan saw the last breath leave Marie's lips. Belby took Marie's face with trembling hands and cradled her against him. His tears flowed freely, and his breath came in heaving gasps. His entire body shook as he held her, and the wailing sob that left him seemed to hold all the tears in thew world.
As Rowan felt herself being sucked out of the memory, the white field of flowers glowed ethereally. Rowan noted them with numbed awe – Bakony Lunar Flowers.
Finally, Rowan found herself in an ornate room filled with red cedar furniture and noted with shock that it was her father's old Ministry office. She gazed around it and took in the familiarity of it all. She looked to the desk and saw her father – hair slightly darker, but still impeccably dressed and handsome – and Belby seated across from him, looking tired and broken.
"I'm sorry, Belby, but this might be out of my hands," Richard said seriously. "Transporting a werewolf body across international borders is serious business. I'm amazed you were able to get her there to begin with," he said gravely.
Belby stared at his hands but said nothing. Richard assessed the man across from him, and she could see the thoughts racing through his head.
"Please," Belby whispered. It frightened her – she had never heard her master plead for anything, not like this. "I'll do anything. Just let me bring her home," he begged quietly.
Richard sighed and assessed the man across from him, twirling a pen in his hands. Rowan saw his eyebrows furrow in thought.
"What do you plan on doing with her body if you bring her back?" he asked.
Belby looked up at him then averted his gaze again and shifted. "She said she wanted to be cremated and then have her ashes released into the wind... in the north where she was born," he responded softly. "I just..." He bowed his head. "I just want to bring her home."
Richard nodded but continued to look at Belby in the same concentrated way. Belby kept his gaze averted. They sat in silence for a good amount of time, and Rowan wondered vaguely if the memory would end like this.
"Fine," Richard said. Belby's head shot up with wide eyes, daring not to believe it. "I can't make any guarantees, but I have a few Hungarian connections I can call. I'll see what I can do," he said gruffly.
Belby shot to his feet and grabbed Richard's hand, shaking it jerkily. "Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Delacroix! I am eternally in your debt! Thank you," he said, his voice trembling. Rowan saw his eyes were bright with tears.
Richard shifted uncomfortably at the other man's display of emotion and pulled his hand awkwardly from the handshake. Rowan watched her father with gratitude and adoration as she was pulled from the memory and felt herself spinning and flying.
She once again found herself in Dumbledore's office and was about to run to the staircase to find the Headmaster and Remus when she realized the older wizard was already sitting at his desk.
"Professor," she called. "I'm done with the Pensieve. I…" she trailed off. Dumbledore hadn't looked at her once and was reading over a letter in his hands.
"Professor!" she called again, but he didn't respond. Just as she was about to open her mouth again, there was a slamming of a door and the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned, expecting to see Remus, but gaped disbelievingly. Instead of Remus, she saw Belby quickly approaching the desk. She was still in a memory.
He wore the same dark wine-colored robes that he'd been in the evening they'd met in November of her Seventh Year. After seeing him so young in his previous memories, he suddenly looked very tired, very angry. His face wore the heavy scowl that she'd equated with his presence for so long, but now it seemed very foreign and odd.
"Well, I'm here, Dumbledore," he growled at the Headmaster. He assessed the older man coolly. The harshness of his voice made her flinch. "Though I'm not quite sure why. Do you really expect me to like this girl?" He glowered, still standing in front of Dumbledore's desk.
The bearded wizard placed the letter down on his desk and smiled up at Belby. "Rowan, you mean?" he corrected kindly. Belby made no sign of recognition but continued to glare. "She's an interesting girl, don't you think? Are you really not going to meet her when she specifically sought you out?" he asked slowly.
Belby snorted. "She's a fool!" he declared defiantly. "That stupid girl is going to get herself hurt and risk her entire livelihood for this? Is she mad?" he ranted.
Dumbledore nodded his head and took in his friend's words. "Do you think her reasons are really so far from yours?" he asked quietly. "I think you're afraid because you might see too much of yourself in her," he suggested wisely.
"Of course I am!" Belby exclaimed. Fear flashed across his face for a brief moment. "How can I let someone like her… She's so young! I can't… What if something were to happen to her under my care? I can't have her well-being on my conscience! I will not take responsibility for her!" he shouted. His eyes were looking frantically all over the room, as if searching for some answers.
"She's not Marie, Damocles," Dumbledore said.
Belby looked at him with wide-eyes. They were full of fear.
"She's not Marie," Dumbledore repeated firmly. "Rowan knows what she is getting herself into, and if there is anyone who can assist you in your work, it is she," he said confidently but softly. Damocles looked lost, grieving. Dumbledore gazed at him in thought before continuing.
Rowan's heart was filled with shame. Had she known what she was getting herself into, truly? She'd thought she could handle it. Remus had warned her. Belby had warned her. He was terrified for her from the moment Dumbledore spoke her name to the man, and yet in the end, he'd been the one to pay the price for their research. Had the Death Eaters been looking for her there at the apothecary? She wanted to fall to this Belby's feet and beg for his forgiveness, to tell him that she wasn't worth it.
"How about this – give her the rest of the year to prove herself. Set a high bar. Make her continue to research for you and set a standard for her N.E.W.T.s. I'm almost certain that she will rise to the challenge, and it will help give you some peace of mind regarding her abilities and conviction if she passes your test," he suggested.
Damocles considered the older man's words with a dark grimace. The lines in his face seemed much heavier.
"Fine," he finally breathed. "Fine, I will meet with her, but I'll make absolutely no promises. Just watch – after talking to me once, she'll rethink even potion making," he said definitively, bitterly.
Dumbledore smiled, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. That little spark seemed to grab Rowan. Her limbs froze, and then they were gone. Belby and Dumbledore were very still, unmoving and gray. Suddenly, Rowan felt herself flying backward, soaring. The scene in front of her seemed to pull away in an instant. She lost her footing and couldn't find the ground. She was going back.
"Rowan! Rowan!"
Firm hands shook her awake, and she looked up to see Remus and Albus Dumbledore staring down at her. Remus' face was full of panic. She wanted to reach up and touch him. She looked around her blearily and realized she'd collapsed against the Pensieve, now sitting on the floor and propped up against the basin's cabinet.
"How long have I been asleep?" she asked, still in a daze.
Remus frowned. "We left you here about half an hour ago. When we came back, you'd collapsed," he said.
She frowned. Thirty minutes? It felt like she'd been gone for days. She reached up to her face and felt wetness there. Had she been crying?
Dumbledore smiled, and responded as if reading her mind. "One's sense of time within a memory is much different from the pace of time outside of it. I'm sure what felt to us like a matter of minutes was probably a great amount of time to you," he said knowingly.
Rowan felt her lips twitch at the Headmaster's words, and she stood slowly, using Remus' arm for support.
"Did you get the answers you needed?" the old wizard asked.
Rowan thought for a moment. "Yeah," she said softly, and it suddenly occurred to her that she had received more answers than she'd even been searching for. "Yeah, I did," she said firmly.
He smiled softly at her, and as they left the castle, Rowan looked back up towards the Headmaster's Tower and wondered how one person could know so much.
When they Apparated back to St. Mungo's the sun had begun to set. As they entered the hospital, they returned immediately to Belby's room. However, he wasn't there, and Rowan suddenly found herself facing a flustered Gideon Prewett instead, who had been pacing the room anxiously and alone. Dread filled her.
"Rowan," he breathed. His face was pale, and his chin trembled. She knew already what he was going to say.
"He's gone, isn't he?" she whispered.
Gideon's mouth twisted, and he nodded sadly. "I'm so sorry," he said sadly.
Rowan just nodded slowly. She felt Remus squeeze her hand, and she squeezed back. She looked up at him in a daze and saw him gazing down at her, fire in his eyes. She suddenly felt so tired, so exhausted. She moved towards him and leaned into his chest. His arms rose instinctively to hold her. She thought of Damocles Belby and the way he'd held Marie Acina against him in the mountainous forests of Hungary. She remembered how the delicate woman had looked up at the full moon with wonder. Her eyes had looked so much like the glowing field of flowers.