Aster blinked, confused. She felt wonderful, her head in the clouds, just like every time she bit Hermione. The power of blood and magic mixing in her always left her feeling high.
The situation was escaping her somehow. Hermione was peony red, eyes wide, staring at Tonks, Hannah and Susan. How... With a shaky hand, she wiped the trickle of blood from her chin. This situation was not supposed to happen. The array she had recently carved under the bed was supposed to give them perfect privacy. She wasn't ready. She planned to have more time to get the history club members used to accepting other species. She knew she was appreciated by the other Hufflepuffs, and even more so by the club members. The affection shown to her by most of them, especially in the great hall, was proof enough.
However, she was certain that they were not ready to accept her as a vampire. She intended to tell the members of the club about her nature sometime in the future, when she was sure she wouldn't be betrayed, that her... acquaintances wouldn't go running to the Daily Prophet and cause a scandal that would undoubtedly destroy all her plans. Her hand tightened around the small vial hanging around her neck, the small blue flame residing in it letting out the gentle warmth of hope allowing her to move forward. Second by second, she felt herself sobering up. The next few minutes would be decisive.
Tonks stood rigidly upright, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, her question still hanging in the air. Susan looked shocked, unable to look away from the spectacle, and Hannah tried unsuccessfully to remove her friend's hand that was still blocking her view. She glanced at Hermione, but she looked even more confused than she was.
For the first time in a long while, Aster couldn't find words. How to make them understand that she couldn't tell them so easily. How to make them understand her fears, the idea of being betrayed and rejected that she couldn't separate from the idea of admitting her nature to the other students who were closest to her in the school. She began to tremble, her mouth opening and closing, unable to find the words.
She gasped as she felt the mattress buckle. Two hands came to rest on her waist, and she found herself on Tonks' lap, in her arms, pressed against her chest. Even in the face of a black mage she hadn't been frozen like that, why was she unable to act? Why hadn't Tonks even pulled out her wand? Why was she holding her in a hug?
"Aster. We knew. I mean... when you pay attention to the way you act... the fact that you're a vampire is the logical conclusion... well... me, Neville, Susan, Hannah, Leane and Sophia have noticed. The others I don't know."
"How?" Aster asked in a small voice. She was lost, some of the club members knew it, and no one had noticed? Why hadn't anyone run away after coming to that conclusion?
"Well..." Susan began, having finally released Hannah, deeming the scene safe enough that she didn't feel the need to protect her friend's innocence. "Once you notice the details... making the connection isn't hard. The way you never go out in the sun uncovered, your pallor, the fact that you can't seem to grow up, your relationship with Hermione..." she finished with Hannah nodding vigorously at her side.
"And you didn't... you didn't... leave? I'm a vampire, the immortal blood-drinking monster..." Aster said in a weak voice.
"That's right, we could have run to warn our parents about a dangerous, ugly vampire in Hogwarts, who happens to be 'the girl who lived'." Tonks said thoughtfully, Aster stiffening in her arms at the words. "But Aster... you're the antithesis of threatening. I don't know how you became a vampire, and it's none of my business, but you're our friend, you didn't do anything wrong. Besides, we have nothing to worry about with Hermione here to take care of your... needs." She said, nodding her head in the direction of Hermione who had sat cross-legged and looked away, blushing.
"We were waiting for you to tell us." Hannah stated. "All of us in the club talked about it. We wanted to wait until you felt confident enough with us to share this."
"It doesn't bother you that Aster is a vampire?" Hermione asked, the latter finally coming to her senses, surprise clear in her voice.
"She's our Aster, the cutest vampire ever." Tonks said in a tone as declarative as it was amused. "It would be hypocritical of us to reject her after she's opened our eyes to so much. The history club is one of the best things that happened to us this year."
Aster nodded and let herself relax in Tonks' arms. It was... comfortable to melt against her chest. Hermione had been right. The Honey Badger plan had been far more effective than she had thought. She shouldn't have underestimated Hufflepuff loyalty.
Susan and Hannah joined them on the bed, determined to stay. "So?" Susan asked with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "What's your relationship with Hermione? We know you drink her blood but..."
"Hermione is my best and oldest friend. We're blood mates so to speak." Aster said in a small voice, not noticing the brief pain on Hermione's face.
Tonks sighed, "And to think I was ready to give you the bees and flowers speech when I heard what was going on behind the curtain."
"Doesn't that hurt?" Hannah asked, turning to Hermione.
"No... It feels nice... really nice." she replied as she brought her hand to the two small fang marks at the junction between her shoulder and neck.
Hannah blushed and shyly nodded.
"So... what's the real story? Susan said, "I mean... at the beginning of the year, on the boat, you told us that you were adopted in a foreign country under Dumbledore's orders to make you pass for dead and protect you from the Death Eaters... but that doesn't explain how you became a vampire at all."
Aster turned her head towards Hermione, could she share that? They seemed to have known for a while that she was a vampire... but the fact that she had been turned by Anna Karrasinqi... one of the most feared dark lords on the continent... Surprisingly, Hermione nodded. Her friend was right, lying or hiding the truth from them now would only create a time bomb that would explode if revealed. It was better to tell the truth now than to let it linger. Besides, Dumbledore already knew the non-incriminating part of the story. She could at least tell them the same.
She took a deep breath. Hermione's hand squeezed hers, giving her the strength she needed. She felt Tonks' embrace tighten slightly. It was as if the shapeshifter suspected that what Aster was about to tell them would be difficult. Aster sighed, the only other people she had told what she was about to say were Hermione, her mum, Kav-deb and Sonya. It all seemed so far away now. She hadn't really thought about the Dursleys in ages. She didn't even really know what happened to them... The ( years?) she had spent in the beyond with Sonya only added to that distance. Remembering her early years made her feel like the little girl in the cupboard was a different person, long dead.
"After the Potters died, Albus Dumbledore saw fit to place me in the custody of my Aunt Petunia and her family. They were hateful, the worst kind of muggles. They would have rather never had anything to do with my kind. One day I had an accidental fit of magic that hurt my cousin. So my uncle decided to get rid of me. He grabbed a gun, took me deep into the woods, and tried to kill me. I managed to get away, but only just. That was the day I met my mother. Anna Karrasinqi."
Yelps of surprise and fear echoed in the enclosed space of the bed at this name. Aster ignored them, preferring to continue, not knowing if she could resume if she stopped now. "I was badly injured, the only way to save myself was to turn into a vampire. She took pity on me and did it. From that day on, I barely grew up. I was happy with her, strangely enough, a former vampire dark lord was infinitely sweeter than the muggle family Albus Dumbledore had entrusted me to. You know the rest. The onslaught on Mum's and my home was more than well publicised. I was taken in by Nailla, a nymph living in Ulthar. I met Hermione there, and have lived there ever since when I'm not at Hogwarts."
The silence that greeted the end of her story was deafening. Susan opened and closed her mouth without making a sound, Hannah looked on the verge of tears. From her position, Aster could not see Tonks' face, but she had tightened her grip even more, as if Aster was in danger of evaporating. Hermione had also tightened her hand around hers. Aster could see pride and a strange, undefinable feeling in her old friend's eyes.
It was Tonks who broke the silence after a long moment spent as if suspended in time. "I'm going to kill Dumbledore..." she said in a cold voice.
Aster smiled. It was as sweet as it was strange, to realise that it was only now that she was beginning to consider the three girls her friends.
oOOOo
He was wary. His goddaughter's behaviour was strange. Despite the seriousness of what they were going to do today in the ancient cobbled streets lined with tall grey-beige stone houses of this magical little district of Aberdeen, she was far too cheerful. He walked quickly, his long robes billowing behind him. At his side, Aster was almost skipping along, occasionally waving to a passer-by. Severus couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when he caught a middle-aged wizard bowing far too deeply and reverently to an oblivious Aster, who waved back happily.
More than just Aster, this magical enclave within the muggle city was strange. He wasn't used to seeing so many creatures walking the streets in such a relaxed manner. It had only been a few minutes since their duo had entered the enclave, and he'd already seen three nymphs chatting quietly on a bench, a lycan inspecting the wares of an herbalist's stall, as well as what looked like a large, casually dressed vampire smoking elvish weed. This kind of scene would have been unthinkable in Diagon alley. Moreover, many of the open stalls offered services that were strictly forbidden by the ministry. He never thought he would see a shop openly providing the services of a voodoo practitioner in Britain. Even in the depths of Knockturn Alley, such practices were not done openly.
"Is it wise to show yourself like this?" he asked, glancing at a faun and a witch playing a game of Znowluul on a café terrace. "If anyone were to report your presence in such a place to Dumbledore, I fear the repercussions would be most unpleasant."
"No one is likely to tell anyone anything disturbing about me." She said in a lilting voice.
"How can you be so sure? The girl who lived, symbol of the light, in the magical part of Britain with the most illegal activity I've ever seen would cause a tremendous uproar in the press." He said in a harsh whisper, his eyes fixed on a group of two wizards and a nymph, dressed in midnight blue battle robes, advancing in tight formation down the street. He could have compared them to Aurors in their posture and attitude, if not for the fact that their attire reminded him of the Grand Alliance troops at the siege of Nurmengard. An emphasis on protection and practicality above all, to the detriment of aesthetics. He could almost see magic crackling around the fabric, no doubt due to protective runes embroidered into it. They must surely be soldiers of a noble private militia. Of which he could not say, but of a family powerful enough to equip its men with such a high quality material.
If this magical enclave was under the direct control of a noble family with particularly obscure practices, this justified both the choice of the Asphodel to have its headquarters there, and the great diversity of creatures and esoteric magic. The Asphodel and this noble family must have formed an alliance of some kind. It made sense. His impression was only reinforced when the trio of militiamen respectfully saluted Aster before resuming what he assumed was their round.
In any case, he would remember the place. Several times already, he had seen rare potion ingredients sold at affordable prices in the stalls. Who would have thought that he would ever see matagon grass at only three Galleons a kilo in Britain?
"Don't worry about it Severus, you'll understand everything when I introduce you to the inner circle. They will be happy to have a Potions Master among them." Aster replied with a smirking expression that did not bode well.
A few minutes later, they arrived at a small cobbled esplanade bustling with activity. It must have been a market day, for countless stalls were displaying their wares to shoppers. Necessities stood alongside rarer magical items and an infinite variety of trinkets of varying usefulness. The smells of market produce, spices and street food wafted through the air, accompanying the buzz of discussions. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the sight of a stall manned by a tall, thin, blond man with stormy grey eyes, offering a variety of thestral cheese, dirigible plums as well as other kinds of magical fruit and vegetables and strange, brightly coloured mushrooms whose properties even he, an acknowledged potions master, could only speculate about their use. He would surely have stopped to chat with the man, had he not been in a hurry to make the dreaded appointment with his goddaughter's little 'gang'.
However, there was nothing to stop him from coming back here another day. Despite years of living on the magical side of Britain, he had never heard of such a place, and he would be foolish not to explore it further when he would have the chance. "Is the market held regularly?" he asked in a detached tone as he observed the Ditany and Mandrake honeys on the stall by an old witch with a weathered face, a hag, if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.
"Every Friday and Tuesday," Aster said in a sing-song voice, still in her inexplicably good mood.
Severus nodded stiffly. He had no desire to join his goddaughter's gang. He had enough on his hands with Dumbledore's nonsense, and his second job as a spy among the still active Death Eaters. However, Sarah's words were still fresh in his mind. He had to give Aster time, to let her observe him, to get closer to her until she told him her secrets and he could finally act in an informed way and help her effectively. As a godfather, that was the least he could do, especially after tearing up the earth to find her.
"By Merlin's beard, if the Ministry ever hears about what's going on here..." he grumbled as they exited the market and Aster led him towards a large, plain, two-story stone building.
"No risk," Aster replied confidently. "Not even the best diviners in the ministry would know about this place. The wards are reinforced against any attempt at scrying," she assured as she placed her hand on the large double oak door. It lit up briefly, revealing an array of strange and complex inscriptions. The heavy door swung open, revealing a wide entrance hall leading to doors and corridors, but above all an imposing staircase which they began to climb.
Severus found Aster's assurance naive. Either the Ministry already knew about this place and the noble family in possession of it was powerful enough to prevent any action from being taken, or it was only a matter of time before a swarm of Aurors descended upon the place. He chose to hold his tongue, he had to investigate, to find out more, only then could he start debating with Aster and maybe even make her realise that becoming a gang leader was not the best idea in the world. Especially in a nation with a regime as authoritarian as magical Britain. If the girl who lived, in addition to being a vampire, was the head of a gang that advocated the darker aspects of magic, she'd get a one-way ticket to Kingsguard prison. Or worse, Azkaban. Her status as a national hero would only make her 'betrayal' of the principles of the light even more loathsome.
"What time is it, Severus?" Aster asked, stopping in front of the first door on their right at the top of the grand staircase.
He took his gusset watch out of his pocket and opened it. "Five minutes past ten." He said.
"Tch... we're late," she sighed, grimacing. "Well... I'm sure you'll enjoy Ethan and Basileus' company very much... Mimosa is really great... Arnold can be quite rude and harsh but that's expected from the head of the Lycans... Asmodeus can be problematic but... well... we're already late..." she rambled to his amusement.
"I don't think we should keep your... acolytes waiting any longer." He said, raising an eyebrow.
"You're right..." she sighed as she opened the door.
They entered a large room lit by three large windows overlooking a garden and furnished only with a large round table around which sat a miscellaneous assembly.
"Hello, and I apologise for the delay!" Aster said as she sat down on a chair that was far too big for her, with the top of the backrest a good three feet higher than her head.
An exchange of greetings followed. Polite from what he recognized as a very distinguished vampire and a young witch, strangely close to total devotion from a vampire dressed in an outfit that reminded him a lot of the militiamen he had met earlier. The old man with his head buried in his parchments expertly manipulating an abacus did not even seem to notice Aster's arrival, and the huge mass of muscle he assumed to be a lycan simply bowed low.
"This is Severus Snape, Potions Master and Professor at Hogwart. I hope you will welcome him. Severus, I present to you the members of the inner circle of the Order of the Asphodel. Mimosa and Ethan, my advisors and heads of human and vampire relations, Asmodeus, head of security and the armed wing of the organisation. Arnold Alpha of the Lycan packs of the order and finally Basileus, our accounting and finance specialist. Please take a seat." She said with seriousness and authority.
Aster's sudden change in personality caught him off guard for a split second before he regained his composure and took his seat at the table. He stared at each of the other members, receiving looks in return. He couldn't help but feel more and more uncomfortable that this wasn't just a small gang... They all looked very suspicious of him but didn't seem to want to oppose his presence head-on. Aster must have explained to them why he had come well in advance.
As Aster began to call the order of the day, Severus cleared his throat. "Yes?" she asked with obvious curiosity.
"Aster, you have never explained to me the extent of the Order of the Asphodel and the activities you carry out in detail. I doubt that I can follow this meeting with only the knowledge of your ideology." He said. Aster had insisted that he would find out everything on the spot, and had seemingly forgotten that he was largely ignorant of the extent of what was going on.
"That's right. Hmm well... you see, I created the order shortly after I arrived in Britain. It was just a mutual aid network of vampires and wizards. The laws for vampires were ridiculous to me and so I did this. The project has grown a little bit though. Now, the Order of the Asphodel can almost be described as a secret society of all those who are dissatisfied with the way the Ministry runs the country. The Asphodel owns and runs seven enclaves like the one we went through today in all the British Isles, and most of the illegal businesses and other illegal groups have either fallen under our control or joined us voluntarily. Basileus? How many members are there again?"
"Sixteen thousand three hundred and fifty people have signed the contract of secrecy my lady." Basileus said without looking up from his scrolls.
"Thank you Basileus. The order is currently partnered with the Hanseatic League of Svorak, allied with Ulthar and Hymgaabal is in the process of forming diplomatic ties with us." Aster concluded sheepishly.
Severus clutched the bridge of his nose. He was stunned. This was far worse than he'd thought. This wasn't just a gang he could easily extricate Aster from! His damn goddaughter had seen fit to create a nation within a nation! Over sixteen thousand people!? What percentage did that make up of the total magical population of Britain? Four percent? Five percent? He struggled to realise the enormity of the thing.
It wasn't just a massive Auror raid on an illegal magical community that was about to take place! Aster had unwittingly, or so he hoped, built the perfect breeding ground for a civil war worse than the one led by Voldemort! The former dark lord had an army, servants, but no allies. His reign was held together only by the terror he inspired. The ultimate proof of this was the way the war ended. Once Voldemort was gone, his entire movement had collapsed, many death-eaters had just surrendered, even more unmarked servants and soldiers had just fled the country. In just a few days without the dark lord, the ministry and the militias of the other noble families had won a crushing victory.
However, what little he had seen of Aster's organisation terrified him. These were not people following a leader for his power or out of fear. These were people who had tasted a better life, a freedom, a comfort that they would never have had access to otherwise. A hag with the ability to sell its products openly in a market place was unthinkable in the current state of the ministry. If things ever got out of hand, if this parallel society was discovered, the ministry as usual would undoubtedly react with violence, without realising the extent of the problem. He could perhaps hope that Amelia Bones would keep a cool head, but the decision on what to do about an organisation of this magnitude would not rest with her alone.
When the civil war would take place, he could only imagine the people he'd seen out there fighting for the freedom they'd tasted to the bitter end. Even if Aster were to disappear, the ideal that the strangely named Order of the Asphodel had shown them would not die out.
He watched Aster, still in an inexplicably good mood, following the agenda of the day. She had obviously interpreted his silence as approving. Did she realise what a monster she had created? Of the enormous time bomb that with the best of intentions she had planted in the heart of magical Britain? Severus' mind was racing. There was no turning back, his goddaughter's organisation was already far too big. He felt reassured that Aster's heart was in the right place despite her years under the thumb of a dark lady, the ideals that Asphodel represented seemed right. But no ideals could justify the catastrophe of a civil war and all the suffering that would come with it. Moreover, he could see very clearly the objectives of the partners Aster had spoken of. All of them had in common that their interest was that Great Britain should open up, that the regime of the old nobility and the ministry should fall. For decades the Hanseatic League of Svorak had been trying to get the Sylbe to become one of the accepted currencies in Britain without success. Hymgaabal had an ancient and terrible revenge to exact after the massacres that led to the disappearance of the Veela from the British Isles. Ulthar's interest was equally clear. The collapse of a government as opposed to the equality of magical species as Britain could only be to its advantage.
The only way this whole affair would not end as disastrously as he could see it was if the Order of the Asphodel were not discovered until it was powerful enough that the Ministry would be forced to consider negotiations first instead of believing itself capable of crushing it by force.
While he was deep in thought, doing his best to keep a straight face, the meeting continued. He wasn't really following as well as he should, but the shock of his sudden realisation and the implications of what he had just discovered just seemed far more important than the ongoing discussion about building new housing for the various magical species within the Asphodel enclaves and how best to keep their trade with their secret allies following an incident where a convoy from Ulthar containing highly illegal goods in Britain had almost been discovered by a team of aurors. At least the fact that the inner circle of his goddaughter's organisation seemed to take things very seriously was reassuring for the future of the country.
He even found himself getting really involved in the discussion when the subject of regulating the licensing of the concoction and sale of dangerous or addictive potions came up. He felt a deep sense of relief when it was unanimously decided to punish the use of amortentia or any other potion used to take away an individual's free will, by disbarring the culprit before erasing his memory.
The meeting concluded with Ethan reporting on the success of 'operation blood mate', which he understood to be a list of measures promulgating the idea, and offering benefits to those willing to be bitten or become a vampire's blood mate. There had apparently been some problems after its introduction in the early days of the Order of the Asphodel, but according to Ethan's report, the measure was now generally accepted. If, by chance, the whole thing did not end in bloody civil war, his goddaughter's organisation might well become the engine of progress that magical Britain so desperately needed. His natural pessimism prevented him from seeing things completely that way, but he was damned if he didn't try, if only for Aster's sake.
So it was with a headache and plenty to discuss with his goddaughter that Severus left the room, Aster still in good spirits, the morning's meeting having obviously not brought enough bad news to tarnish her day. As they walked down the corridor towards the exit and Severus was about to share his fears with Aster, they both turned sharply as they heard running noises behind them.
"Lady Karrasinqi!" Exclaimed the young muggle born named Mimosa. Severus couldn't help but flinch. The fact that all these people were addressing his goddaughter by the name of one of Europe's most terrible dark lords was unpleasant, to say the least.
"Mimosa? What is it?" Aster asked, raising an eyebrow, obviously surprised by her subordinate's behaviour.
"I'm glad I was able to join you after the meeting," she said, breathlessly.
Aster sighed, "Something you couldn't say to me in front of the others I suppose?"
"Well... yes, the subject is a bit delicate." Mimosa replied, casting worried glances in his direction. He was about to suggest that he take some distance and let them talk in private, but Aster spoke up before he could.
"Don't worry, whatever it is, you can talk about it in Severus' presence." The latter widened his eyes imperceptibly. He felt a strange warmth in his chest at this show of trust from his goddaughter.
Mimosa nodded unconvincingly. "At least a barrier of silence?" she asked.
"Very well, if you insist." said Aster, looking up at the sky and digging into her pocket to pull out a strange little circle of metallic wires with a structure vaguely reminding her of a dreamcatcher, except that the pattern was unknown to him and seemed to keep shifting around. Mimosa appeared to be satisfied as she pulled a rather thin file from her pouch and began to speak. "Lady Karrasinqi, I wanted to share with you some alarming facts. Since the events of the great ceremony, there have been rumours within the order. Some speculate as to the identity of the power you conjured, others respect you more, as expected, but some, more radical..." Mimosa seemed to hesitate for a few moments on the right words to use. "... are forming a kind of cult in your name."
A ball of fear formed in his stomach, the situation was complex enough as it was, what the hell had his goddaughter been doing to end up in this situation?
Aster remained silent for a moment before saying in an icy tone. "Are there any names in the document you just gave me?
Mimosa looked increasingly uncomfortable, and Severus himself shivered. The temperature had just dropped at least several degrees. "Some, but none of them stand out as leaders of this movement."
"Mimosa, I entrust you with the mission to continue investigating this, I want a report as soon as possible."
"Yes, Lady Karrasinqi. Good day to you, and to you too, Mr. Snape." Mimosa finished before trotting out of the silent zone and disappearing around the corner of a hallway.
"Aster, what's all this about a cult?" he asked, growing increasingly desperate about his goddaughter's situation.
Aster remained silent for a moment, seeming to deliberate with herself before turning to him and looking him straight in the eye. Her right eye shone with an unhealthy, spectral green glow that sent a chill down her spine. Even the red of her former master's eyes seemed preferable at that moment. "I used Lagaelis' influence to silence any opposition or dissension within the order and prevent it from breaking apart. I should have known how some would perceive this... demonstration."
He did his best to remain impassive, to maintain the image of invulnerability he had perfected during his years in the service of the Dark Lord, while his only desire was to lock himself in his room, preferably with several bottles of strong alcohol. He feared more and more that Lily's daughter would drive him to alcoholism. If his former friend saw what had happened to her baby, she would burn the world down in pursuit of revenge. "Aster." He said after a moment of silence. "I don't know what happened during those years you spent with Karrasinqi, and without knowing that, I can hardly help you. You are playing a dangerous game. I hope you realise that your Order of the Asphodel is in danger of plunging Great Britain into civil war, and I don't think I need to elaborate on the dangers of having a cult in your name that you don't control. I know this is still very new to you, but I am your godfather, and as such and as an individual, I care about you. I'd like to help you more, but I can only advise you with difficulty without knowing your motives and your background."
He stared at her, hoping that his speech had reached her. She glared at him for a long moment, then said in a shaky voice, the good mood of that morning seemingly gone, "Severus, I... I need some time, I'll think about it. I need a moment alone," she finished, giving him a smile that did not reach her eyes. Severus watched her walk away, a strange sense of loss in his heart. As if he had broken something, as if he had crossed some invisible line. He really hoped those few words hadn't broken months of effort on his part.
oOOOo
It was raining around the belvedere, the drops softly pounding the roof in a continuous and relaxing sound. The downpour was so thick that it was impossible to see more than a dozen metres outside. The air was filled with the fresh smell of petrichor and the place seemed out of time, separated from the world by the curtains of mist and rain. It would have been freezing in this winter month, if the belvedere had not been surrounded by a protective magic from the cold and humidity.
The new issue of The Thestral he had been trying to read was lying open in his lap, but his eyes and mind were far away, lost in the mist and rain. Next to him, on a high stool, sat Sarah, concentrating on a pile of administrative paperwork which she seemed to be finally seeing through.
Not since Lily's death had he had such a close friend, or anyone to share the weight of some of his secrets with. Sometimes he even found himself hoping to represent something similar for Sarah. After all, as far as he knew, people with enough control over their emotions to resist the allure of a veela were rare, and his mastery of occlumency allowed him to do so. In any case, it was good to have that complicity that had been denied him for so long. In a little over a year, Sarah had become one of the people who mattered most to him. It was frightening, how he, who thought he had an impenetrable shell around his heart, had found himself helpless in front of the right person.
Today, as usual, the discussion had been easy, concentrating on their common interests in the art of potions, and the latest political news, before silence settled in again, and he was content to enjoy Sarah's company, reading, or letting his mind wander, an activity he was all too deprived of, when immersed in the bustle of Hogwarts.
He was so absorbed in watching the drops burst into thousands of slivers as they hit the ground that he was startled when Sarah's voice was heard over the soft pounding of the rain. "When are you finally planning to leave Hogwarts?"
Severus raised an eyebrow, he hadn't expected this kind of question, a ridiculously small number of people gave a damn about his individuality and what he wanted to do with his life. In fact, he was pretty sure they could be counted on the fingers of one hand. "Why do you ask?" he asked in bewilderment. His discussions with Sarah were always about their common interests, politics, the antics of his goddaughter and what Sarah might reveal about her flock's affairs, never really about them, or their aspirations.
"Severus, you don't want to teach, you barely stand your students, I've heard you complain enough to know that, I can't even begin to understand why you're in this job in the first place. Besides, your goddaughter won't stay at Hogwarts forever, you must have a project, something you want to do with yourself, for yourself?" She said in a soft, calm voice.
Sarah's words hit him like a punch in the gut, they were harsh and far too right not to touch him deeply. What he wouldn't give to live as a researcher, to have his own potion shop, to be able to go to all the seminars, to lead a few lectures... He interrupted this line of thought. If he let himself dream of an impossible future, he would only inflict new wounds on himself.
"I would like to, but it's impossible. We have good reason to believe that the Dark Lord, Voldemort, may soon reappear and Albus Dumbledore intends to use me against him." He replied bitterly.
Sarah grimaced. "So the rumours about the monstrous shadow roaming the Albanian forests being Voldemort could be true..."
"Indeed, Dumbledore has been there several times in recent years to try and get rid of the thing, but to no avail. There are also rumours of several cults in its name in Europe that are resurfacing."
"It's all very worrying Severus, I grant you, but there's nothing to stop you from withdrawing from Hogwarts and seeking to do something that suits you better while remaining allied with Dumbledore if you really must."
"You don't understand." He said in a harsher tone than he would have liked. He had no desire to talk to Sara about this, not after he had bonded with her so strongly despite himself. He hardened his expression, preparing himself for a scathing reply. But to his surprise Sarah did not even raise her voice.
"So help me understand." She said calmly, in contrast to the seething emotions he was struggling to contain behind his occlumency.
But how could he admit to one of the few people who had managed to find a place in his heart that he had been part of a terrorist cult that had caused a bloody civil war and that his redemption was far from sufficient? For the first time in years, his hands could not hold still. He had thought he had overcome this nervous reflex long ago.
Just as he was about to change the subject, to flee from this discussion, Sarah leaned forward and placed a hand on his, squeezing them and giving him an encouraging smile. Severus felt himself relax, so much so that he thought for a moment that Sarah was using her allure on him. A notion that was immediately disproved when he found that his occlumency was as flawless as ever. He clasped Sarah's hand in his, before speaking, doing his best not to let his voice betray his doubts and fears about revealing this dark part of his past to his friend.
"I was a Death Eater in the cult of Voldemort." He said bluntly. As he watched Sarah's reaction, ready to see disgust, fear, or rejection in her eyes, but it was not to be. Her face was neutral as she waited for his story to continue. "I realised my mistake quickly, but it was too late, I was marked. So I continued this war as a double spy and potions master for the Dark Lord. I tried to help Dumbledore and his associates as much as possible during the war while trying not to be found out by Voldemort. At the end of the war, Dumbledore allowed me to remain free by vouching for me and sharing my role as a spy with the Wizengamot. I cannot directly oppose Dumbledore's will, he has the power to send me to rot in Azkaban in the event that I do not do what he wants me to. And he wants me at Hogwarts, close at hand."
"That was extremely brave of you, daring to turn against him. I don't hate you for what you did, Severus. Everyone makes mistakes, and I can see that you've paid for it in spades. You too deserve a second chance, especially after you've earned it so much."
Before this moment, he had no idea how much he had needed to hear those words. It was as if a titanic weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Thank you, Sarah." He said after a moment of uncertain silence, just to make sure his friend wasn't going to say the "but" he feared.
"Don't thank me for this. You know, your war isn't going to last forever. It's better to start thinking about a future now, if only to have a good reason to fight." She squeezed his hand one last time before releasing it. Severus found himself missing the contact, for a man who tended to shun physical proximity, this was most unusual.
Perhaps Sarah was right, and hoping and thinking of a future beyond Hogwarts and its boundaries would do him a world of good.
oOOOo
The small group climbed up step after step of the huge staircase. Hermione watched the reactions of the other club members out of the corner of her eye with a slight smile. She remembered all too well the first time Aster had taken her to the Great Library of Alexandria, and her reaction had been much like the ones she was witnessing now. Neville's eyes were the size of tureens and his mouth ajar, trying to take in the magnificence of the ancient building, Hannah was speaking too quickly for Susan to understand, explaining the long and complex history of the library to the latter. Leane was taking photographs and Sophia was swamping poor Severus Snape with questions, the latter already seeming to regret having agreed to accompany them, much to the amusement of Tonks, who was watching the scene and visibly holding back a laugh.
As for Aster, she was happily climbing the stairs towards the huge door surrounded by elaborate columns. The thought of returning to the Library of Alexandria made Hermione shudder with anticipation. This place was fascinating, she could even describe it as heavenly. It would take her several lifetimes to read all the books in this fabulous place. As on her first visit to the library, Hermione couldn't help but think of a way to achieve immortality, if only to be able to read all the books contained in this treasure trove of history and architecture. Aster had disguised this visit as one of the history club's excursions and had thus obtained Dumbledore's approval on the condition that a teacher accompany them, but their objective was quite different... well, Aster's.
Her friend hoped to find an explanation among the books in the normally forbidden levels of the library as to why she seemed to be slowly feeling her magic change and her connection to Lagaelis grow stronger and stronger. Hermione really hoped that Aster would find an answer to her questions, as the alternative was to contact the Fahri Yujul and hope to gain access to the archives of the Great Caravan, and she was extremely suspicious of the Yujul in general. These creatures gave her the creeps. As their group climbed the last few steps, Hermione let her gaze wander among the countless columns and hieroglyphic frescoes covering the library's magnificent façade.
As the last step was climbed, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and massaged her thighs, before turning to look at the magnificent view of the Alexandria harbour, its buildings, its ramparts, its iconic beacon, the sea and the desert from the front of the library.
Once everyone was up, the small group moved towards the great door, Aster first, walking with confident steps towards the two tall, imposing guards in golden armour, armed with traditional warlock staffs, a sword at their belt, and whose heads were hidden behind a mask representing an impassive face. Before they could block their way, Aster took out of one of her many pockets the letter of recommendation and the passes that the Matagot prince had graciously given them when Aster had told him about the project a couple of weeks ago.
The two guards nodded and waved them through before returning the letter to Aster. Once in the huge column-lined room, Aster turned and gave the group a big smile. "Welcome to the great library of Alexandria. One of the oldest and most important libraries in the world. In comparison, Hogwarts is nothing! I'll give you a pass, take care of it, the guards are likely to ask you for it at any time!" She exclaimed before taking out from the envelope of the letter squares of parchment and handing them to everyone.
Professor Snape cleared his throat. "I remind you of the rules, here, silence must be respected, you can whisper, but no more. Always put the books back where you found them and take the utmost care of them, finally, we have an appointment here at twenty-one o'clock, our portkey back to Hogwarts will go off at twenty-two. If you are ever lost, ask the guards, there are translation wards throughout the library that will allow you to speak with them without any problems." He said in such a stern voice that Neville, who was already terrified of even going on a club trip with Professor Snape, seemed to be on the verge of fainting. Fortunately, Tonks had taken matters into her hands and was whispering something in the boy's ear. "On that note, happy exploring to all." Professor Snape concluded sternly before heading off towards one of the large doors lining the huge entrance hall.
Hermione barely had time to see Hannah, Susan, Leane and Sophia leave together towards another door and Tonks pulling Neville towards a guard standing stoically near the entrance before she felt Aster's hand slip into hers, and the latter pulling her towards the back of the great hall hiding the staircase leading to the lower levels. Hermione couldn't help but blush as her fingers and Aster's intertwined. She and Aster, alone in the depths of one of the world's largest and oldest libraries, she couldn't imagine anything more romantic. If only she could muster up the courage to ask Aster the reason behind the quick peck they had exchanged in their Ulthar home...
...
As Hermione had expected, literature about black magic was scarce even in the library of Alexandria. They had gone down ten floors, and Aster had had to play the name of her mentor Kav-deb to a terrifying, shape-shifting, sallow guard to get into the small alcove they were currently occupying. Most of the texts were in Mesopotamian, in a strange cuneiform script, which had stopped them dead in their tracks as neither she nor Aster understood any of it. Fortunately, many of the ancient papyrus scrolls and engraved earthen slabs, as well as the strange and very thin greyish stelae, were in classical Yujul. The ancient form of this language was quite different from the Fahri Yujul more suited to diplomacy and inter-species trade, as well as the subtle and graphic Khrè Yujul, but Aster's lessons in these languages allowed her to decipher these writings without risking too great a headache.
She sat cross-legged in a corner of the dusty ancient room, a long scroll of parchment in her lap. At first she had wanted to try to help Aster with her research into what might be happening to her magic and her connection to Lagaelis, but had quickly found herself absorbed in unrelated reading. The scroll she was reading was in an ancient form of Fahri Yujul and was about an exploratory expedition to a world described as ash-covered and containing ancient ruins and gigantic creatures whose titanic pseudopods were the only things visible from the ground, the rest of their bodies hidden in the thick clouds and mist that characterised the atmosphere of that world. Aster was grumbling, having visible difficulty in deciphering the text written on a strange grey paper.
Curious, Hermione raised her head and looked at Aster. "Did you find anything?" she asked.
"So far, nothing that has any relevance to my problem." Aster grumbled.
"We've been here for hours," Hermione said after glancing at the mechanical watch she'd recently purchased. "We have to meet Professor Snape in just half an hour."
Aster rubbed her eyes with her palms before putting the documents back in the strange metal case she had pulled them from. "I didn't think I'd find much to do with my particular situation here after all," she sighed.
"I hope we'll come back soon anyway," Hermione said, looking at the books dreamily.
"You'd move here if you could." Aster chuckled with a smirk.
They both stood up and walked towards the exit. As they walked down the corridor, Hermione couldn't help but watch Aster, she had barely grown, if at all, since the beginning of the school year, if only Aster could have a growth spurt, she thought to herself as her gaze fell to her lips and she felt herself blushing. With a sudden burst of courage, she put Aster's back to the wall of the hallway and placed a hand against the wall on either side of her, locking her in. She looked Aster in the eye, it was time she got an answer.
"Hermione?" Aster asked, surprised.
She knew she was completely red, why was it so hard to get those few words out? "Aster, do you like me?"
Aster looked forbidden for a moment. "Of course I do. Isn't it obvious? We're blood mates."
"I mean...to the point of kissing me on the mouth?"
"Yes, did that bother you?" Aster asked, tilting her head slightly.
"No, not at all, it was just, unexpected... So we are..."
"Friend and blood mates? Obviously." Said Aster before placing a quick kiss on her lips before escaping and continuing on towards the stairs, humming. Hermione was as red as a ripe tomato, and very confused. She shook her head to regain her composure before following in Aster's footsteps. What did this mean? Did Aster even know the implication of a kiss? She had a sudden urge to bury her face in a pillow and scream loudly. Of course she didn't, knowing her, she must have been completely oblivious to the effect she was having on her... and she had made such a fuss about it...
She climbed the stairs, confused as could be, her lips still tingling from the quick kiss.
oOOOo
Aster watched with pride as the two puppets chatted and left the abandoned classroom they had commandeered to hide their walking alibis. After playing their part in the Acromentulae assault, puppet Hermione and puppet Aster had returned to their hiding place and were deactivated until their next mission. The two golems would live out their lives until she and Hermione had finished their mischief or they ran out of magic.
"They still scare me." Hermione said, a shiver shaking her shoulders.
"They do? It's my masterpiece of golem creation. Anna would be proud." She replied, fiddling with the small vial attached to her neck.
"Maybe, but imagine what terrible things you could do with it! You could kidnap someone and then create a puppet of them to make them do anything you want! Imagine if you had a puppet Ministry of Magic? Imagine if you gradually replaced all the students in the school with puppets, no one would notice until it was too late! You can even get them to commit crimes and falsely accuse someone!" Hermione fulminated.
"I know what you think of them," sighed Aster. "But you should know that already, very few people have access to the knowledge to create such things, and that even if it were more common, it's extremely difficult to create. These two things took me months. And I assure you, you can't make a golem of someone without the cooperation of that person. At least not of this quality, soul magic can be tricky like that..."
"I don't find them any less disturbing. How can they be so realistic? What separates them from real human beings in terms of mind? There are ethical questions in there that bother me."
"That's one of the reasons why soul magic is so frowned upon... and I can't really answer your questions, it's more about philosophy than magic. All I know is that these simulacra of existence don't have a soul, a bit like paintings..."
"Like muggles?" Hermione argued with a frown.
"'Erm... yes, like muggles... okay, okay, I get it, I don't do that sort of thing lightly you know? We really need it right now. If we get caught in the core of Hogwarts wards with a Voldemort-possessed teacher, we're screwed."
"Like the time with the spiders, or the time I had to endure the agonising presence of one of those things for three days because you had an urgent matter to attend to at the Asphodel. I still blame you for that one, by the way."
"I get it, I get it, please, let's change the subject, aren't you excited to see the core of the wards?"
"Of course I am! But the idea of going with a dark lord in a teacher's head really bothers me, are you sure he won't kill us when we get down there?"
"You know it's that, or having Voldemort free to do anything in the castle, at least by temporarily allying with him we can keep an eye on him and avoid the whole plan falling apart because of an unexpected confrontation."
"It doesn't solve the problem of risking getting killed once we're alone with him," Hermione groaned.
"He'll keep his word, he has no interest in making an enemy of us and starting a fight he doesn't know he can win right under Dumbledore's nose."
Hermione visibly deflated and sighed, dropping the discussion. "Let's go then, what are we waiting for to find our good genocidal dark lord friend..."
Aster nodded, unable to hold back a smile at her friend's sarcasm. "I'm sure he's cuddly. Do you have your invisibility array?"
"Always." replied Hermione as she disappeared.
Aster nodded, held out her hand in Hermione's supposed direction for her to grab, before activating the invisibility array on her staff and disappearing once she was sure she had the young witch. "I hope Professor Snape didn't tell you any rubbish..." she heard Hermione whisper.
"Don't worry, I've already checked the plan he gave us." She said as she left the room and headed towards the dungeons. They passed only a few students and a busy Professor Mcgonagall on the way, before they came to the bottom of a staircase with a smooth wall, where she could see the tainted magic of Quirrell and Voldemort waiting for them. She struck three quick, two spaced and four quick blows on the wall, as Severus had indicated.
The wall seemed to break apart, the stones disappearing, sliding into each other, opening up a long corridor dimly lit by bioluminescent mosses covering the walls. Aster saw the disillusioned form of Quirrell enter the corridor, and she did the same, squeezing Hermione's hand slightly. No sooner had she passed, than the passageway closed behind them, cutting them off from the rest of the castle. There was no sound except for Hermione's breathing and the sound of drops falling from the ceiling and echoing in the corridor.
Aster deactivated her array and reappeared, staring at the place where Quirrell and Voldemort's intertwined magic stood. A few seconds passed before the disillusionment spell was lifted and Quirrell appeared, followed quickly by Hermione deactivating her array as well.
"Hello Wraith." Aster said.
"Thing." Quirrell simply replied, choosing to ignore Hermione entirely.
"According to our information, the corridor should lead us directly to the core of the wards, do you have the potion I told you about?"
"Obviously, what do you take me for?."
"Well, let's not dawdle." Said Aster, staring into the sun, focusing her Lagaelis eye on the knot of intense magic and Leyline still far below their feet. Her excitement at the thought of seeing wards as huge and ancient as Hogwarts and how they could have lasted so long in time was tremendous.
The trio walked down the ancient, damp corridor in tense silence, only the sound of their footsteps echoing against the floor. Quirrell gave them occasional indecipherable glances, but at least he seemed completely indifferent to Hermione's presence. Perhaps he imagined that a mudblood was no threat, or that Aster was keeping Hermione with her simply to use her as a pantry... Aster hated the idea of cooperating with the wraith as much as she did, but it was the best way to avoid being spotted by Dumbledore and getting in each other's way. Better to keep an eye on a known evil after all.
After a good hundred metres of gentle slope, the stone walls of the corridor gave way to a tunnel dug directly into the rock. The mosses and strange lichen illuminated their steps with a diaphanous light. The humidity in the air was heavy, strangely, it was getting hotter. She had not expected this. She glanced discreetly at Hermione, she had her hands in her pockets, probably clutching her void shield array, and her gaze fixed on Quirrell, no wonder.
Aster stopped dead in her tracks, in front of her was a stone wall laced with intense and ancient magic, a closed passage. She grunted, obviously the core of the wards would be more protected than by a simple code. Her lock-picking array wouldn't be enough, she had to come up with a more advanced version, otherwise Dumbledore would realise something and come down on them. After a good three hours of work, a silent Hermione and a strangely worried Voldemort, she finally opened the passage, to her relief and the astonishment of her companions.
Two closed walls later and a good eight hours later, they faced a spiral staircase carved into the rock plunging into the depths. Aster nodded, and began to descend the steps, her foot on the ground, her eye alert, her hand clutching her battle staff.
As the long descent progressed, it became hotter and hotter, the mosses giving off a reddish light. Aster had to be extra careful not to slip on the damp ground. Almost imperceptibly, an extremely slow and muffled beat was spreading through the humid air. So faint at first that she thought she was imagining it, but it became louder and louder as she descended. Every thirty seconds she could hear the strange sound echoing in a perfect rhythm. Finally, after a good five minutes of descending, they reached the bottom of the stairs. The corridor was much wider, the walls more reminiscent of a natural cave than a man-made tunnel. A bend in the wall a few feet away let in a strong reddish light. Her Lagaelis eye allowed her to see that less than five hundred feet away, behind the wall, was something gigantic, an ancient and unspeakable power of magic. Beside her, Hermione looked increasingly uncomfortable. The pounding was powerful now, as if someone was banging on a huge kettledrum.
As she was about to move forward, the appearance of the wall caught her attention, and as she approached it, what she had thought was moss did not really have the texture of it. She touched the wall with the tip of her finger, and withdrew her hand immediately before taking several steps back. "It's not moss," she muttered, looking at the strange shape of something she could only compare to flesh clinging to the wall.
"What is it? Thing." Quirrell, or rather Voldemort, asked as he emerged from the spiral staircase.
"Be wary. Something's not right here." She said as she turned her head towards the power knot lying a few dozen metres away.
She took the lead, watching strange reddish, spongy roots run along the walls, growing larger and more numerous as the gallery widened. She turned the corner resolutely, even though their plan did not rely on this action, she longed for the answers to the countless questions that swirled in her mind.
No sooner had she rounded the bend than she stopped dead in her tracks, a deep and indescribable terror and unease washing over her. The tunnel opened into a large cave with walls covered with thousands of its reddish roots and runes intertwined in an immense mystical network. In the centre of the great cavity was a heart, enormous, easily twice the size of the half-giant living in the hut near the castle. Its steady, unruffled beat shook the hot, humid, stifling air. The magic of the thing was so intense, that
Aster could hardly look at it. She felt as if the heart contained a soul, or at least something resembling one.
"So this is the origin of the power of the Hogwarts wards." Said Voldemort, Quirrell's mind seemingly far away at the moment. "How could the founders create such a thing?"
"They didn't," whispered Aster.
"What do you mean?" He asked curtly.
"This thing goes back to before the castle was built. It's much older."
Voldemort turned back to the thing, watching it warily. Hermione was pale, obviously ill. The muffled throbbing of the thing echoed in the damp air, Aster never thought she'd ever see a Dark Lord so troubled.
"We shouldn't linger." She said, a shiver running down her spine. She would have been amused by the fact that Voldemort and Hermione nodded simultaneously if the place wasn't so eerie and disturbing.
Frankly, the titanic network of ancient runes surrounding the heart was completely incomprehensible to her, but thankfully she didn't need to understand it to get to their goal. "Time to use the potion." She said, turning to Voldemort. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small vial before handing it to her.
"If this doesn't work, I'll have yours and your servant's skins, thing." He said coldly, his eyes glowing like embers for a brief moment.
Aster grabbed the potion and nodded. She longed to make Voldemort bite the fist of her golemic arm and watch his skull explode in a beautiful spray of reddish brains for daring to call Hermione a servant, but she just gritted her teeth. The fact that the dark lord completely underestimated Hermione was after all to their advantage.
As for her, Hermione didn't seem to have heard. Her gaze was fixed on the huge beating heart, fascination mixed with deep disgust etched on her face. Aster had no idea what this... thing was, and had no intention of finding out. In her travels with Sonya and her lessons with Kav-deb, she had learned that curiosity often did much worse than killing the cat. She would have to talk to her young friend before she touched anything too big for her... Like the foul wonder that had been slowly beating for perhaps eons a few feet from her.
Aster shook her head to clear her head, she had to concentrate, the effect of the potion combined with the magecraft array she had prepared for the occasion on the runes of the wards should allow her to easily point at a source of energy as large as a rift stone. She took the scroll out of one of her dedicated pockets and spread it on the ground before pouring the potion over it and letting her black magic connect it to the ambient magic of the cavern. At first, nothing happened but the illumination of the magecraft array, and Voldemort curiously approached to look over her shoulder. Then a cloud of mist formed over the scroll. At first it was diffuse, but slowly it took shape, becoming clearer and clearer. Soon she could make out the shape of Hogwarts, the castle with its countless towers, underground passages and labyrinthine corridors. She could see hundreds of tiny lights in the halls that reminded her of stars, probably one for each inhabitant of the castle. However, her attention was quickly drawn to a star that was more powerful than any of the others.
She looked closer, trying to discern the details of where such an intense source of magic could be. Hope had returned, Dumbledore had placed the stone somewhere in the castle. As she looked closer, a realisation dawned on her. At first she couldn't believe it, but when the evidence became unmistakable, she burst into a nervous laugh.
"What is it, thing?" Voldemort asked, watching the magic at work with fascination.
"Dumbledore, the fool, the reckless, the madman. He hid the stone under his bloody pillow!"
oOOOo
He staggered forward, trying for the third time that day to reach the end of the corridor without collapsing miserably to the ground. It had been years since he'd taken such a beating. He had never been in a coma for so long. Fucking dark mage, on that cursed night with Adamar, they hadn't been up against a vampire lord and his adopted daughter! They'd been up against fucking monsters!
Alastor leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, his wooden leg anchored to the ground, his other leg still weak from months of immobility. The healers' magic had managed to keep his body in fair condition, but he knew that at his age and after all the injuries and curses he had suffered, he would never regain his full abilities.
After a few minutes of rest, he managed to walk again. He headed back towards his room, his enchanted eye scanning his surroundings for a potential trap that a spy among the healers might have set. Unlikely, but not impossible, and even in his condition his constant vigilance motto continued to apply. He continued to stagger, leaning against the wall regularly to catch his breath. How many times had he had to tell the healers that he didn't need their help to stand. He was humiliated enough as it was after being put out of action by a kid, he didn't need any more reminders of his current weakness. If someone dared to offer him help to walk again, he would shove his wooden leg where the sun never shines.
The door to his room was only a few yards away, what he wouldn't have given for a good bottle of fire whisky. If only the bloody healers hadn't forbidden him all forms of alcohol on the grounds that it would interact with his potion regime. He saw before he heard someone familiar coming down the corridor behind him. His eye was already fixed on the man, it was about time, it had been a week since he had come out of his coma. What had prevented his old friend from coming to see him earlier. "Albus," he growled without turning around.
"Alastor." The man replied cheerfully. "Need help getting to your room?"
Oh for fuck's sake, he had it coming. With a speed and agility that Alastor didn't think he was capable of anymore, he turned around and slammed his wooden leg right into the old bastard's nuts before landing another blow to his shoulder, knocking Albus to the ground. "GODDAMNIT! I! DON'T! NEED! HELP! TO! FUCKING ! WALK!" He screamed so loudly that the glass of the hospital corridor shook. He turned and walked back to his room, grumbling, leaving the groaning form of the great Albus Dumbledore prostrated on the floor behind him. That had been the last straw. Did he blame himself for taking out his frustration on Albus? Not for a second.
A good fifteen minutes later, he was sitting on the edge of his hospital bed with a cup of tea in his hand, the most stimulating beverage those healer bastards would let him drink, when the door to his room opened, revealing Albus. "Hello Alastor." He said as he sat down with a grimace in the visitor's chair, which had so far remained empty except for one or two of his former Auror students who had come to see him off to wish him well. "That was pretty... cruel, greeting an old friend like that."
"You deserve it for letting me rot in here for a week without even showing me the tip of your old nose." he grumbled to his friend and lover.
"And I beg your pardon for that, Alastor. I've had a particularly busy week. Between our Wizengamot friends' nonsense and my activities at the ICW, as well as dealing with the fallout from the Acromentulae attack on Hogwarts, I'm a little overworked."
Alastor spat out some of his tea. "An Acromentulae attack on Hogwarts? You're joking, Albus!"
"Unfortunately not..." He said before launching into a tall tale about a colony of Acromentulae that had settled in the depths of the forest and attacked due to a lack of game in their territory. "And you, how do you feel?" Albus asked when he had finished his story.
"Like someone who's just spent over a year in a coma." He quipped.
"I guess so." Albus said, unmoved by his sarcasm.
A silence stretched between them for a moment and Alastor sighed, "You're not just here to see me, are you Albus?
"Indeed." He replied, a certain guilt in his eyes.
"So get on with it, ask your questions," Alaster growled in annoyance.
"What happened the night of the assault on Karrasinqi's home is a mystery, you know?"
"What do you mean?" Alastor asked. "There must have been a report of the events, right?"
"Well, the few survivors who witnessed the battle are either still in a coma or, like poor Adamar, had their memories erased so they wouldn't go completely mad. All we know is that the battle was Dantean."
"Seriously?" Alastor growled in dismay.
"I'm afraid so, I'd like you to please tell me what you remember.
"It was a massacre. They were ready."
"They?" Dumbledore asked, strangely a little paler than normal.
"Yes." Alastor said with a frown. "They were waiting for us. Karrasinqi and who I think is her adopted daughter were next to each other, Karrasinqi in armour, the other in battle robes and a mask. They were accompanied by battle golems. Adamar went directly to confront Karrasinqi one on one, the rest of us were confronted with golems and the monstrous girl. The golems slaughtered some of the squad members, but the real threat was the kid. She killed several of us, and I think, made a mess of others. A real monster, she got me. A real bastard, her lightning magic for keeping me in a coma for so... Albus?" he asked, looking at his old friend and lover. The latter was pale as a sheet, his complexion waxy, as if he was on the verge of vomiting, or in the grip of intense stress.
"Albus, what are you doing?" He asked, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him. "ALBUS? HEY!" he shouted, worried to see him so still. Suddenly the old wizard stood up.
"I have to go, I'm sorry Alastor, I have to check on some things... I'm afraid it's urgent. He said before disappearing into the corridor, without even closing the door. Alastor sat motionless on his bed, stunned by what had just happened. What could have bitten him?
oOOOo
The cold and salt gnawed at his skin, the small skylight barely let the grey light of the pale winter sun into the cell. Worse than the cold, the hunger, the loneliness, the icy shadows sliding down the long dark corridors, was the death of the spirit that lay in wait for him. Only two things kept him from becoming an empty shell like the other living carcasses lying in this hell. A rat and a flower.