THE rain intensified, falling heavier than usual as it turned the grass and Weasleys' vegetable patch into a muddy mess. Seeking shelter, Norah sought refuge on the front porch of the Burrow, where the roof provided some protection from the thunderous downpour.
Peering through the rain and the swaying reeds in the wind, she strained to spot Ollie.
The sky only heightened her anxiety, realizing that finding Ollie in the darkness would be nearly impossible, even if he illuminated his wand. As the heavens turned pitch black, Norah knew she couldn't wait outside any longer.
Reluctantly, she accepted the fact that she would have to give up and head indoors. Her worry grew as she wondered, "Where are you, Ollie?" Norah whispered to herself, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her to fend off the chilly autumn wind that made her shiver. Time dragged on, and her concern for Ollie's well-being deepened.
As Norah gazed out at the vast countryside before her, a mix of worry and an unexplainable sense of peace engulfed her soul. Her thoughts drifted to the Obscurial and the love she had yearned for all her life but had missed until now.
The memories of last night brought a blush to her cheeks as she briefly relived the tender moments shared with Ollie in the Weasley's guest bedroom. Contrary to what his comrades believed, Ollie Black was not the monster they painted him to be. He had shown Norah such gentleness and love, igniting a fire in her heart with his sweet smile and shining blue eyes. In his eyes, she felt cherished and respected, and this newfound emotion made her feel whole. The memory of their intimate encounter warmed her, momentarily erasing the cold around her.
Her fingers traced her neck as she closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of his lips kissing her below the ear. She recalled his calloused hands carefully exploring every scarred inch of her body, making her feel truly loved.
The memory made her blush with both delight and a hint of shame, but she quickly dismissed any regret.
Despite the relatively early stage of their relationship, given Ollie's circumstances, she felt no shame in letting him have her in the way he wanted. The connection they shared was too profound to be bound by societal expectations, and Norah embraced the love they had found in each other, regardless of the timing.
Norah ran her hands through her hair in confusion, wondering what could be keeping him. He had mentioned he'd be back no later than eleven at the latest, and now it was going on eleven fifteen, she realized with a jolt, as she stared out into the vast dark emptiness before her. A voice from behind shook her from her thoughts.
"My dear, why not come inside for a spot of hot tea, and perhaps Ollie will have returned by the time we finish?" Mrs. Weasley suggested, smiling warmly at Norah.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Norah felt relieved for the older witch's company. She looked at Mrs. Weasley thoughtfully and hesitated, not wanting to leave the porch, but then a familiar scent of the forest and Firewhisky caught her attention. Confused, she glanced out into the reeds, sensing a presence watching her, waiting for her.
Turning back to Mrs. Weasley, Norah struggled with her emotions, not used to receiving such kindness from others. Mrs. Weasley's maternal and generous nature touched Norah deeply, making her feel both grateful and uncertain.
She politely declined the offer of hot tea, folding her arms across her chest, shivering slightly from the cold, but appreciating Mrs. Weasley's concern.
Molly nodded in understanding, not pressing the matter, for which Norah strangely felt relieved.
"I'm truly delighted to witness the joy between the two of you, my dear. I've always held the belief that the strongest bonds of love often form in the most extraordinary of circumstances, just as they have for the two of you, and even for Arthur and me. It's quite evident that Ollie holds deep affection for you. Perhaps he's not fully aware of it yet, but I dare say he is falling in love with you," Mrs. Weasley continued with a warm smile, her gaze fixed on Norah. Yet, in response to her words, a slow transformation seemed to sweep over the werewolf.
A pallor crept across her features, a greyish hue overtaking her complexion as she lost herself in processing the older woman's kind remarks. A sudden jolt of emotion surged through her, sending tremors through her body.
Could it be? Was it possible that he… truly loved her? And did she dare hope for such a possibility?
The idea gripped Norah's thoughts, casting a wave of uncertainty and hope within her. Mrs. Weasley's words reverberated, causing her heart to race in tandem with her racing thoughts. The possibility that Ollie's feelings ran deeper than she had perceived stirred a mixture of emotions within her – a blend of elation and apprehension.
As Norah stood there, contemplating the potential reality of Ollie's hidden affections, memories of their shared moments flickered through her mind like a montage. The way he looked at her during their late-night conversations, the touch of his hand that lingered just a moment longer than necessary, the genuine concern he showed for her well-being – how he had kissed her with such need and longing and the experience last night that had seemed more than just lustful passions satiated...these fragments took on new meaning in the wake of Mrs. Weasley's revelation.
A rush of conflicting emotions swelled within her – the longing for Ollie's love to be real, and the fear of allowing herself to believe in it. The possibility of heartbreak loomed like a shadow, reminding her of the delicate balance between risking vulnerability and guarding her heart.
Yet, Mrs. Weasley's words offered a glimmer of encouragement. The elder witch had witnessed love in its many forms, weathering challenges, and triumphs, and her insight carried a weight that couldn't be ignored.
With her heart racing and her mind awash with contemplation, Norah took a deep breath, silently resolving to confront Ollie and the truths that lay hidden between them.
Whatever the outcome, she knew she couldn't ignore the stirring in her heart any longer. She quickly recalled she owed Mrs. Weasley an answer and her cheeks flushed as she turned to face the older witch.
"U-um...Thank you for your kind words and your offer of tea, Molly, your kindness to us both means the world, more than we could ever pay you back for. You're sweet to offer me something to drink, but if you don't mind, I'd like to stay out here and wait for Ollie. It's nothing personal, Mrs. Weasley, it's just...um...well, I... I'm used to handling things...on my own, with no help," Norah said, trying to explain her reluctance without sounding too distant.
Mrs. Weasley understood, and her warm smile remained, showing empathy for Norah's guardedness.
"Of course, dear. Take your time. We're here if you need anything," she said gently, leaving Norah to her thoughts.
Standing alone on the porch, Norah felt a mix of gratitude and sadness. Mrs. Weasley's genuine concern had touched her heart, but the scars of her past made it difficult for her to fully embrace it. As she waited for Ollie's return, she wondered if, with time and trust, she could truly open her heart to the compassion that surrounded her.
As she found herself alone, thin brows furrowed into a frown. The scent was returning, this time even stronger, enveloping her senses. Slowly, she turned back towards the tall swaying reeds, captivated by the mysterious allure.
She inhaled deeply, confirming its reality. Confusion washed over her as she wondered why the scent was so potent. Her heightened senses of smell and taste usually didn't kick in until the week leading up to the monthly full moon.
Despite the uncertainty, her legs seemed to act on their own accord, propelling her down the steps of the Burrow and towards the field, her chest hardly pumping, her heart pounding in her throat. In a clearing of the field among the swaying reeds, Norah's heart raced with an inexplicable mix of fear and curiosity.
As she stepped further into the eerie silence, a figure emerged from the shadows, sending shivers down her spine.
Antonin Dolohov's dark eyes locked onto hers, and a wicked grin spread across the handsome bastard's sharp and angular features. Norah's senses were overwhelmed by the intensity of the Death Eater's presence, and she could feel his unwavering gaze fixated upon her.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, to raise her wand against him in an attempt to flee from this dangerous man, but something of the way he was staring at her now kept her rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away from the man.
"I had hoped to find you out here, my little wolf," Antonin purred, his voice heavily accentuated and thick, sending chills down Norah's spine as she tasted the bile rising from her stomach. "So fragile, yet so intriguing, in your way. You are wasted on the Obscurial, Wydman. Surely, you know this. My offer to you still stands," he spoke.
Her heart pounded as she struggled to process Antonin Dolohov's words, fear and anger mixing within her.
She wanted to demand that the bastard stay away, that he leaves both her and Ollie alone, but the words caught in her throat as she tried to summon enough strength to speak.
Norah felt a strange, inexplicable pull towards Antonin, even as her mind screamed at her to resist.
Briefly, for one horrifying moment, she had the terrifying thought that Dolohov had put her under the influence of the Imperius Curse, but her gaze nervously flicked to his belt, and his wand was securely tucked behind it.
"I have no interest in you," she managed to say, her voice trembling, barely above a whisper. Her words, however, seemed to amuse the Death Eater, as his grin widened, a predatory gleam in his dark Russian eyes, and his wizard's smile had a certain charm that Norah immediately disliked.
"You will have, in time, pet, for I am very interested in you, Norah. There is something about you that captivates me, little wolf, something I cannot explain," he responded, causing her skin to crawl.
She instinctively took a step back, trying to create some distance between them. But he mirrored her movement, closing the gap once more. His hand extended towards her, and she flinched, expecting harm, but instead, Antonin Dolohov gently traced a finger along the length of her jawline, sending shivers of fear and revulsion through her.
"You are a puzzle I am eager to solve, Norah Wydman," he whispered, his voice filled with cold dread.
Norah's mind raced, torn between the unwanted attraction she felt towards this dangerous wizard and the instinct to run away as far as possible. She knew she couldn't trust him, couldn't let herself be ensnared in the Death Eater's dark obsession for her. Sensing her inner turmoil, Antonin's sinister smile grew even wider.
"In truth, dear Norah, I came with the news, though finding you here alone is a mere highlight," he continued, his voice deliberate and low, further increasing her fear.
Her heart skipped a beat, her eyebrows rising in anxiety.
"Tell me what? Wh-what news?" she managed to stammer.
Antonin's grip on Norah's arm tightened ever so slightly as he delivered the news that made her heart plummet to the pit of her stomach.
"Your father, Norah, is dead... The Dark Lord, he... he ordered the wandmaker to be killed. I do not know his reasons. Better that you hear it from me than from tomorrow's headline of The Daily Prophet," Antonin murmured darkly.
Her legs wobbled beneath her, and she felt as if the ground beneath her feet was slipping away. Were it not for Antonin Dolohov's almost painful vice grip on her arm, she felt sure she would have already fainted. Her chest felt tight, her ears were ringing, and she began to see spots as her vision blurred. She fought to stay conscious, but the world around her seemed to spin out of control. Violently shaking her head, she tried to send his words away.
"N-no... no, that's... that's not true, y-you're lying!" she whispered harshly, her voice trembling, and she could feel her bottom lip beginning to quiver. "That's all you've ever done, Dolohov, is lie! I wish you could see your eyes!" she shouted as tears gathered in her eyes as she continued to shake her head in denial of Antonin Dolohov's eyes.
Antonin's sinister grin persisted, feeding off her distress.
"Oh, my dear, I do not lie, I would never lie. Not to you," he answered softly. "The Dark Lord's orders are absolute."
Norah's heart bore the weight of grief and anger. As she struggled to come to terms with the jolting revelation, the sound of Antonin Dolohov reached her ears, amidst the dreadful ringing that nearly drowned out all other noises.
It was at that moment that she snapped back to reality and looked up at him, taken aback and alarmed.
Her eyes narrowed, and her hands clenched into fists as she pushed against Antonin Dolohov's imposing chest, but her efforts were futile. He remained unmoved, and if anything, his grip tightened, leaving Norah unable to control the storm of emotions raging inside her.
The shock of Antonin Dolohov's sudden appearance and the news he had delivered intensified the turmoil she was already grappling with. Why did he have to show up now, at her most vulnerable moment?
Norah took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself, but tears continued to stream down her cheeks, and her shoulders shook with silent sobs. The grief and anger threatened to overwhelm her, but she couldn't let Antonin see her weakness, not after what he had done.
His smug smile only fueled her anger, and she sensed that he reveled in her pain.
Despite the chaos within, Norah mustered her courage and addressed the Death Eater through gritted teeth.
"Did you kill my father, Antonin? Was it you?" she spat her words spitefully. "Did the Dark Lord send you? Did you enjoy it?" Her voice trembled with a mix of anger and sorrow. She felt him tense in response to her accusations.
"I only do what My Lord tells me, Norah. Most of the time, willingly," Antonin replied, his tone almost cruel as he tightened his grip on her arms. "But killing your father, that was the only command I was unhappiest doing. No, Norah," he growled, locking his eyes with hers, a contrasting mix of cold and scalding, "I did not enjoy killing him."
His admission did little to quell her anger or ease her pain. Norah's heart ached with the knowledge that her father's death was orchestrated by the very person standing before her. Frustration simmered within Antonin as he failed to elicit the desired response from the young witch. With an exhale of annoyance, he took it upon himself to try again.
"My offer still stands," he repeated, making sure the wandmaker's daughter hadn't forgotten. He noticed that her grief over her missing father hadn't rendered her speechless, which pleased him. Norah's blue eyes, though glistening with tears, widened as she looked up at him.
Seemingly determined to convince her of his intentions, Antonin pressed on.
"I can protect you, provide for you, and find a cure for your curse. You are a pureblood, Norah, and you have always deserved the highest form of respect. On behalf of the bastard Obscurial who has failed to provide it for you, I apologize, and I am willing to compensate you. You will want for nothing if you only... come with me."
Tears streamed down Norah's cheeks, her emotions a turbulent storm raging inside her. She couldn't believe the audacity of Antonin, how he could be so heartless and demand her allegiance after robbing her of the only family she had left, her father, who had been a pillar of support since her mother's passing. She couldn't bear the thought of leaving Ollie, behind, wondering what would become of him if she disappeared. Pushing against Antonin, her attempts to distance herself from him were futile, but she refused to let him see her vulnerability.
Through quivering lips, she managed to speak, her voice laced with anger and anguish, "You think I would just go with you willingly? After everything you've done?" Her hands tightened into fists, a reflection of the turmoil in her heart.
"My father trusted you, respected you," she continued, her voice breaking as she recalled the loving memories of her father. "And in return, you betray him with deceit and death, and now you want me to be yours?" The pain in her words was raw and heartfelt, her tears now flowing freely.
Antonin's demeanor remained cold and unyielding, unmoved by Norah's grief and frustration. He attempted to justify his actions, claiming there were greater forces at play beyond her understanding. His words only stoked her anger further.
"You talk about the greater good, but you've only served your twisted version of it!" she retorted, her voice quivering with rage. "You've torn apart our family, and you think you can manipulate me into submission?"
The wizard's expression turned darker, his anger matching Norah's.
"I did what was necessary to protect everyone, including you," he snarled, his voice dripping with hostility.
"The greater good? Have you gone off your wits, Antonin? I wish you could listen to yourself, Dolohov, what you're saying is downright insane," Norah choked out, her voice trembling with bitterness and tears streaming down her cheeks. "Is that supposed to justify everything? You murdered an innocent man, my father, and you expect me to just follow you? To trust you, to love you?" Her words were laced with pain and anger as she confronted Antonin.
Her heart was torn apart by conflicting emotions, memories of her father's love and trust now clashing with the betrayal she felt from Antonin, once considered a friend by her father.
"You killed my father for your selfish agenda, even if your master ordered you to do it!" Norah shouted, her resolve strengthening as she refused to back down in the face of his arrogance. "You don't have the right to dictate what's best for me or anyone else. Get out of here before Ollie returns. Don't forget, he nearly killed you the last time you laid a hand on me. What do you think he'd do to you now?"
Her words were sharp and her features transformed with a hint of the wolf within her, her eyes momentarily flashing yellow before returning to their usual sky-blue hue, and when they did, she saw Antonin Dolohov tense and frown.
Antonin's teeth gnashed together as Norah swore she heard the Russian growl, the Death Eater's anger simmering beneath the surface as Norah's accusations struck home. The air around them seemed to crackle with tension, the air heavy with the weight of their emotions and the truth they both knew but Antonin especially was struggling to accept the revolt Norah was nursing against him for her father's murder.
"You think you understand everything, little wolf? You, Norah, with your innocent ideals and naïve perception of the world? Your father did you a disservice by keeping you locked away and sheltered from the outside world," Antonin retorted, his voice a low growl. "I did not take Willas's life lightly, dear thing. It was a necessary sacrifice for the greater plan, pet, for the future we're building, can you not see?"
Norah's tears didn't abate, but her expression hardened as her eyes briefly flicked yellow before reverting as the wolf within came out as she faced the man she thought she once knew and had always been cordial towards, if only for the sake of her father, who had liked him. Visions of her father's likely distraught face as he realized it was Antonin who had come for him flashed in front of her mind and she felt her bottom lip quiver.
"There is no justifying the murders you've committed, the lives you've destroyed, Dolohov, including mine, and you dare stand here and speak of sacrifice?" she shouted, nearly bringing the heel of her boot down on his foot.
As Antonin's hot dark eyes locked onto Norah's, for a brief moment, a flicker of doubt crossed the Russian wizard's sharp and angular features, but then his resolve seemed to solidify again as if shoring up his defenses against the doubts trying to breach his mind.
"You were always so strong-willed, so headstrong," Antonin mused, his hoarse voice softening slightly which sent a chill down Norah's spine as she realized his voice was almost intimate as though he were speaking to a lover and not to her. "I thought you would understand, that you could see the bigger picture. But it seems I have overestimated you, wolf," he purred.
Norah's anger and temper flared anew at his condescension. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists.
"Don't you dare patronize me, Antonin? I've seen the horrors that men like you have unleashed. The suffering you've caused. You speak to me of a 'greater plan,' but all I see is a path paved with blood and misery. I won't be a part of it, and you must be insane to think that I would ever willingly go with you!" she shouted hoarsely.
Antonin took a step closer, his eyes narrowing as he regarded her angrily, his shoulders slumped, his anger deflating into something resembling akin to resignation.
"The bastard has you good, doesn't he, Wydman? Is it love?" Antonin snarled.
Norah's lips parted, ready to speak, but as Antonin's anger smoldered, his eyes bore into her with a mix of frustration and bitterness.
The softness in Norah's blue eyes held a hint of confirmation as visions of Ollie Black's face seemed to flicker through her irises – a confirmation the Death Eater grasped without words.
The Death Eater's words made Norah's chest dent.
"If you cannot see beyond your convictions if you cannot come to your senses and join me," he growled, a touch of sadness in his voice, "then you leave me no choice, my pet."
In a swift motion, he brandished a wand Norah recognized – her father's own, likely taken after he was killed – and a gleaming blade materialized in his palm. With a flick, the blade soared toward her.
Norah's eyes widened, and she instinctively raised her wand to deflect it, but it was too late. While she managed to prevent a direct hit to her heart, the blade struck her leg, sending searing pain through her knee. Her scream was cut short by the overwhelming agony that dropped her to her knees.
The wizard lunged, attempting to drive the blade deeper, but the sudden sound of figures Apparating nearby startled him. Norah managed a smug smile through tears as she gripped the blade sticking out of her kneecap. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Norah gritted her teeth, ripped the dagger out, and rolled onto her side.
Another cracking sound filled the air as Antonin Disapparated, leaving her wounded and shocked. Pain radiated from her leg, yet Norah's focus shifted to a swirling black mass in the distance – the Obscurial within Ollie.
"No," she whispered hoarsely, her eyes widening as her tears continued to trail down her cheeks.
Fear and adrenaline pushed her forward despite her injuries.
Limping and bleeding, she moved toward the Obscurial, determined to reach Ollie before disaster struck.
Amid the agony, thoughts of Ollie consumed her, and any shouts from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were now lost to her.
A surge of icy cold enveloped her, causing her legs to falter beneath her weight. Pain shot through her limbs as she sank to her knees once more. A piercing scream escaped her lips as her injured knee met the earthen ground, blood seeping through her pants and staining them. Norah's gaze lifted, but her fear was so intense that her voice failed her. Though her mouth opened, no words emerged. The man she had believed she could love stood before her, tall and menacing, embodying the very monster he had described himself as. His eyes had transformed into the deepest black, his skin seemed to crack around the edges, and he tilted his head, fixing his dark gaze upon her.
Gradually, his lips parted, and a single word emerged. Her name.
"Norah."
His voice rumbled low, hoarse, scratchy, and distant. An odd sound escaped her, part sob and part laugh. There it was – a glimpse of him, not entirely consumed by the entity within himself.
There he was.
"I'm... I'm here, Ollie, I'm right here, I'm right here where I'm...where I'm sitting, I-I'm not anywhere else," she gasped, her hand coated in blood reaching out toward him. "Come back...fight it...come back..." she whispered as her chest tightened and her breaths heaved.
Slowly, her heart surged with hope as his hand extended, reaching for hers. Yet, just as her fingertips brushed against his, a cacophony of shouts erupted from behind them.
The air was filled with the resonance of at least a dozen Stunning Spells being cast.
"No!" she screamed, her plea drowned out by the relentless barrage of jinxes aimed squarely at Ollie in his monstrous, almost demonic, form. Her desperation pleaded with the Aurors who had arrived, begging them to cease their assault. But her words fell on deaf ears – they couldn't see the man she saw within the monster.
To them, he was only an Obscurial, a massive threat that needed to be neutralized. Dizziness overcame her, her ears buzzed, and spots danced before her eyes. Unnoticed, she collapsed, her body spiraling alongside Ollie's.
The final sound that registered in her ears was the sharp impact of her skull against the unforgiving ground.