AN
Graphic description of a mutilated corpse.
I don't think it's any worse than the one in chapter 19 "Mutilation", just a sweet and short paragraph at the beginning.
January to February 1994, 3rd year
"Right on the first day of the Muggle New Year, how fitting."
Lynea didn't know where the body had come from, only that the Aurors had been pressed to clear up the crime scene quickly and so Naenia had not been able to go and see it for herself. (And take Lynea with her.)
'Body' was not an accurate word to describe what was currently lying on the table in front of them, but they were undoubtedly the remains of a person.
Just like all the other victims, this one had been flayed from head to toe. Their skin was lying in a neat pile on one end of the table, next to various organs and intestines. Then came what remained of their limbs – a pile of splintered bones with bits of raw flesh and muscles still clinging to them. And on the other end of the table … This body, too, had been torn open. Their rips were either broken off or bend outwards to reveal a bloody hole with the white bones of still intact spine and backside shimmering through. The head had been smashed in, the brain turned to a mush with bits of broken skull and what had once been bright blue eyes.
Naenia had already dispelled the lingering magic that had spoiled the body and supressed any smell and so the sickly-sweet odour of rotting flesh permeated the usually sterile air, mixing with the coppery smell of blood and the acidic taste of vinegar. It had been a while since Lynea had been confronted with such a strong sense of death and decay and destruction.
Lynea was not bothered by the sight, nor was Naenia. Phyllida looked a bit green, but she had seen many things since she had started to work for Naenia and this wasn't even the first Mutilatio victim. It was number eighteen.
Harry would have thrown up immediately, but Harry wasn't here.
Harry was up by the house, flying on the Firebolt someone had gifted him for Christmas. Naenia had insisted on checking it for hidden spells and curses and Harry had pouted, but accepted that it was for the best. And now he was finally allowed to try it out and would likely be occupied the whole day.
"You should keep an eye out for another Mutilatio murder near Hogwarts," Naenia said.
"Near Hogwarts?" Lynea said in a strangled voice.
"Yes, near Hogwarts," Naenia said calmly.
"How do you know that?"
"Because some of us can read maps, my dear."
Lynea blinked. "So the murders are forming some kind of shape. To deliver a message? No, they wouldn't have go to such great lengths." Her eyes widened. "It's all part of a greater ritual."
Naenia nodded approvingly.
"When will it stop?" Lynea asked.
Naenia tilted her head to the side. "In a year or so. Now, let's get to work, shall we?"
"But this has been going on for a year and a half already. Why is no one putting an end to this?"
"The Ministry will never find them," Naenia said. "They are going about this in a very clever way."
"Why aren't you doing anything?" Lynea asked.
Naenia arched an eyebrow. "And what, do you think, should I do?"
Lynea stared at her grand-aunt incredulously. She could not believe this. "Turn them in? Surely you know who is behind this."
"I do," Naenia said simply. "But I will not step in. I want to see this unfold until the very end."
Lynea narrowed her eyes. "So you condemn innocent people to their death?"
Her grand-aunt made a dismissive gesture. "Their lives hardly matter in the grand scheme of things. The years haven't made me into a kinder person, Lynea."
"Naenia, this isn't about kindness, about being good. This is about people being murdered."
Naenia gave her a sharp look. "Look into your heart and tell me that you actually care."
Lynea gaped at her grand-aunt. "But – Murder goes against everything we stand for – it is a violation against Death, Himself. How can you stand idly by and let it happen?"
"It has been brought to my attention, although that was some time ago now, that, maybe, murder is just another way for Death to claim what is rightfully His. That it may be the demise He had intended for the victim all along."
"And you actually believe that?"
Naenia sighed. "I do not. But it is futile to try and stop it, regardless. They would just begin anew and anew again until they have either fulfilled their purpose or realize that it will not work."
Lynea had already opened her mouth to press the matter, when the doorbell rang. Phyllida, who had been silently watching the exchange between Lynea and Naenia, sighed in relief and went to open the front door. Lynea washed her hands in the basin and followed.
Uncle Nereus stood in the shadow of the porch, looking displeased, with an impassive Theodore at his side.
"Brother," Phyllida said. "We did not expect you."
"Yes, I gathered as much," he said. "The wards did not want to let me through."
And a good thing that was, or else he would have seen Harry on his new broom. Nereus was not necessarily evil, but he was still a loyal follower of the Dark Lord. And for some reason the Dark Lord wanted Harry dead.
"My wards will let no one through unless I specifically allow it," Naenia said calmly, coming to a halt just behind Lynea.
Nereus narrowed his eyes. "Or unless you give them a permanent pass. Which I, for some reason, do not have."
"And why would you?" Naenia replied calmly. "You do not live here, you do not come over very often, you aren't even a part of the family."
Nereus' eyes narrowed even further.
"Did you want us to take Theodore to King's Cross?" Lynea asked, interrupting the starring contest between her uncle and her grand-aunt.
Naenia had once been very close with Lynea's grandfather, but that fondness had not extended to any of his children, certainly not Nereus. At least she seemed to like Theodore. And she had warmed up to Lynea's mother Phyllida and her brother Thelus after they had been living with her for a while.
Lynea did not get the chance to ask her grand-aunt about the Mutilatio murders again.
o
"Professor Lupin looked rather sick again, didn't he?" Harry said. "I wonder what is ailing him so."
Lynea glanced at him to see whether he actually meant what he said. They were working on their homework in the common room for once, because they couldn't very well practice spells in the library. It was also already late and they couldn't afford to do it another day. But that gave them the ability to talk freely about this.
Theodore huffed and lowered his wand. "The full moon was just a few days ago, that is what is ailing him."
Harry furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"
"Professor Lupin is a werewolf," Lynea said. "Didn't you know? It's rather obvious."
"Oh, so that's why Professor Snape disregarded our curriculum back then," Tracey said. "I thought it was rather unusual, even for him."
Harry gaped at them. "A werewolf?"
By now, all the others had stopped practicing to watch the scene unfold.
Draco scowled. "If that is true, then why are they letting that thing into the school?" He shook his head. "Never mind that, it's not like they ever cared about our safety in the first place."
"Professor Lupin is not a thing," Harry hissed.
"But he is a dangerous beast," Draco replied calmly.
"Only on the full moon," Harry replied.
Lynea nodded. "And I do believe our Head of House is mature enough to set aside his differences to brew some Wolfsbane Potion for Professor Lupin, which should render him pretty harmless."
"My father will hear about this," Draco said indignantly.
"What?" Harry exclaimed. "No!"
"Draco," Lynea warned and Draco immediately shrank back. She turned to the others. "Who did not know about this?"
There were several raised hands. Only Theodore, Blaise and Daphne didn't raise theirs.
"And who has a problem with Professor Lupin being a Werewolf?"
Draco did. Vincent and Gregory looked at him, then at Lynea, possibly wondering whose opinion they should go with. Pansy did. Daphne seemed unsure.
"Professor Snape's lesson was not inaccurate in any way," Lynea said. "So you should all be aware that a Werewolf does not pose any threat just because they are a Werewolf outside of the full moon."
"Then what about Fenrir Greyback?" Draco asked.
"That man is corrupted to his very soul. That he's a Werewolf and fully embracing it only adds to that. Do you think Professor Lupin likes to be that way? Do you think he wishes to endanger others, to rip out their throats and taste their blood and their flesh in his mouth?"
Everyone but Theodore recoiled at her words. And even Theodore, who was somewhat used to this, looked like he was going to be sick any second now.
"I don't," Harry said in a firm voice and the others shook their heads, even Draco and Pansy. "He can't help being a Werewolf, unless he willingly let himself be bitten or something. You shouldn't judge someone based on something they have no influence over."
His words were completely true. And yet. They still looked at Lynea for confirmation. Of course she nodded. What else would she do? Harry was right, after all. Couldn't they just listen to him and accept his words?
"Alright," Draco eventually said. "If you think we should let this rest, then I won't write to my father."
"Good," Lynea said and looked around. "Anything else?" But no one seemed to have any objections left.
Theodore picked up his wand again and pointed it at one of the apples they had snatched from dinner. "Duro."
It only hardened halfway.
Lynea picked up an apple for her own and concentrated. She had not managed the spell with her wand and the incantation yet, no more than Theodore had. But she had realized, during the many times that she had practiced the Old Magics, that sometimes the wandless and nonverbal way actually came easier to her. It felt more natural somehow. She stared at the apple and imagined it hardening, turned it into stone in her mind and then let her magic flow into it.
Blaise whistled lowly, but Lynea ignored him. She had turned the apple to stone. Now, if only she could accomplish the same thing with her wand somehow …
o
Harry, Theodore and Blaise had their first anti-Dementor lesson with Professor Lupin on Thursday evening. They told the others the bare gist of it and then went into more detail on Friday afternoon, when they had all assembled in an empty classroom in the dungeons to practice.
Professor Lupin had indeed begun teaching them how to conjure a Patronus, had even brought a Boggart out of a hunch that Harry's greatest fear might be a Dementor – which it was indeed – and now they were all practicing together. Without the Boggart-Dementor, but practicing the spell on its own was hard enough. Lynea just sat back and watched.
By the end of the first session, Harry was still the only one who could at least conjure up some fine silvery mist, but as the weeks went by one by one the others started to manage as well. Though Harry was still the one showing the most progress.
Because of the Dementors, they couldn't celebrate Imbolc outside, which kind of made the whole thing pointless – they were welcoming spring, after all – but that didn't mean they weren't making do with what little rituals they could perform inside.
Most of Lynea's housemates cheered up when Slytherin won against Ravenclaw and they all gleefully watched Gryffindor loose against the same house. But then Sirius Black had to go and ruin the mood again.
They hadn't been woken and chased out of their dormitories like last time, but the story quickly made its rounds regardless.
"I didn't mean to," Neville wailed during their weekly study session. "Only – Sir Cadogan was changing the password every day and I could never remember them, so I wrote them down and then – and then I lost them and –" He hickuped and then sniffled loudly. "And now everyone is mad at me! Professor McGonagall even banned me from Hogsmeade visits and gave me detention and I can't get into my own common room without someone else letting me in."
"Oh, dear," Lynea muttered.
Hermione, Daphne and Blaise all had the same mix of disbelief and apprehension on their faces, while Luna and Harry were patting Neville's shoulders sympathetically, although Luna didn't look at him with pity in her eyes.
"Neville," Lynea tried gently. "Would you tell us what exactly happened?"
Neville sniffled again and then nodded. He talked slowly and haltingly, but seemed to compose himself the more he said. "Ron woke us up in the middle of the night, yelling that Sirius Black had just been trying to murder him with a knife, woke the whole house up with his shouting, even Professor McGonagall heard him. We didn't believe it at first, but then Sir Cadogan confirmed that he let him in, said that he had had the whole week's passwords written on a piece of paper, my piece of paper."
Tears rolled down his cheeks and he started sniffling once again.
"Ron is the most mad at me," he continued. "First his rat died and now Black nearly killed him."
Hermione flinched and averted her eyes, looking abashed.
"Hermione?" Harry asked. "What's wrong?"
"Crookshanks sneaked into Gryffindor Tower again, just a few days ago." Her voice was remarkably steady, quite contrary to her expression. "Weasley thinks Crookshanks ate his rat, because there was blood on his bedsheet and he can't find it anywhere. But there is no proof. He has no proof that Crookshanks really ate his rat." Hermione raised her voice and Lynea was glad she had cast a privacy charm beforehand. "And what if he did? What if he ate the damn rat? That's what cats do!"
"So Weasley is angry at you again," Lynea said.
Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself and then nodded. "We were never on good terms in the first place, but I didn't think he would ever be so – so hostile. He is perfectly polite to me most of the time – friendly even, when he wants to be."
"Gryffindors," Blaise muttered.
Lynea shot him a sharp look. "Don't talk like that in front of Neville."
Blaise raised his hands. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He looked at Neville. "You're not mad, right, darling?"
"It's fine," Neville sniffled. "I'm not a real Gryffindor anyway."
"Did your housemates say that to you?" Harry asked sharply. "Neville, did they say that to you?"
Neville nodded meekly and wiped his eyes. "They're right, though. I'm a terrible Gryffindor."
Lynea did not have the emotional capacity to deal with this. She could be soft and gentle when she needed to be, but she had never been one for cheering others up – her encouragements were always upfront truths.
Harry looked mildly awkward and also slightly guilty, as if somehow this was all his fault. Lynea couldn't remember ever seeing him comfort someone, either. Come to think of it, it was usually Harry who needed to be comforted. Hermione was a good friend as long as you talked academics with her and had grown into someone who was bothered by nearly nothing over the last year, but she wasn't someone who dealt with other people's emotions very well, either. Daphne and Blaise were usually rather reserved and preferred to be left out of any drama and it wasn't as if they were truly friends with Neville outside of their study group interactions.
So that left –
"Sometimes we need to fall down first, so that we can stand up again," Luna said quietly.
"And standing up again makes us stronger?" Neville asked.
Luna smiled. "A little bit more each time. And one day we will look back and see how much we have grown. We just haven't realized it, yet."
Lynea let Neville have a few more minutes to collect himself, before she finally began with their study session. She decided to only do some revision for the day and then let Neville teach them about Herbology. Knowing the answers and seeing for himself how far he had already come, seemed to make him feel better. But he had needed Luna to get him out of his own head first.
When the Howler from his grandmother arrived two days later, Neville took it mostly in stride.
Meanwhile, the school had tightened its security to a point where Harry wasn't the only one growing restless. Gryffindor Tower even got a bunch of security trolls, which made Draco and Pansy snicker uncontrollably and the Gryffindors constantly complain about the foul smell they had to endure every day when entering or leaving their common room.