Dear Hermione,
I had a great time Friday. If you're interested, I'd like to see you again. I have tickets to the Appleby Arrows/Wigtown Wanderers game this Saturday afternoon. I could treat you to lunch beforehand, and we could see the game together. Please let me know if you want to come.
Seph
What a nice way to start the afternoon. Hermione jotted a response that she'd love to come—Anissa would be dropped off well before then—and turned to the rest of her mail. There was a scroll addressed in sloppy, backwards-slanting writing—a teenaged boy's, and a left-handed one, unless she missed her guess. It unrolled into a letter from Vincent Trimble agreeing to meet with her over Christmas break.
That made another interview, at least. Still, she found herself thinking. Roma said that Fenrir was different with the Death Eaters. Hermione gingerly ran her fingers over the scars on her neck. How different? How quickly had it advanced? Had one of them been able to tell when he changed?
Ooh, these were dangerous questions. The next thing you'd know, she'd want to interview a Death Eater.
Was that such a bad idea? A minor one, of course, someone well away from the Inner Coven, someone in Azkaban, where they couldn't harm her. Assuming they were still coherent. She pulled out Fenrir's case file and flipped to a list of known accomplices. One jumped out at her: Elijah Scabior. That must have been the Scabior that was with Fenrir when he captured her, Harry, and Ron. Death Eater or not, he hadn't seemed very intimidating. Not that many people could seem intimidating while standing next to a blood-thirsty Fenrir Greyback. Still, the summary sheet said that he was in the minimum security level of Azkaban, so the Ministry must not consider him very dangerous. It wouldn't hurt to ask if she could speak to him, would it? Hermione pulled out a sheet of parchment and wrote to Harry.
The day passed quickly. Ares Silversmith had asked to meet at 5:30, so she kept working as the other researchers locked up their offices and bid her good evening. When the time came, she apparated to his address. She arrived in a field of flowers, although this time of year only pansies were blooming. She walked to the Stuart-style house and rang the doorbell, and a middle-aged woman answered the door.
"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger. Is Ares in?"
"He's running a little late, I'm afraid, but why don't you come in? I'm his mother, June Stroede."
"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said, following her inside.
June took her coat and led her into the living room. "Can I get you anything? Some tea?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you." Several photographs hung on the walls. Most of them were of two boys, growing throughout the years. The latest for the younger boy looked brand new, and in it he was wearing a Hogwarts uniform and beaming with pride as he tried not to fidget. There were no house colors shown, so it was probably taken before he left for his first year. The older boy had several more, including a collective frame on the wall with seven slots for the school years, each filled with progressively older pictures and the last dated 1995. Less frequently were pictures of a little girl, and later a young woman, with none in between. "Are these your children?"
"Yes. My youngest, Steve, just went to Hogwarts earlier this year. The older two are from my first marriage. That's my middle child, Ares, with his girlfriend last Christmas." She pointed to a portrait of a young man teasing a woman his age, who laughed as though he was the most hilarious thing in the world. Then June's finger moved to a wedding portrait of the young woman, positively beaming in her white gown as she stood next to a man in a formal robe. Hermione recognized both of them as werewolves from their shaded hair and the fangs clearly visible every time they smiled at each other. Beside them stood Roma in a bridesmaid dress and a young man Hermione felt she should recognize but didn't. "And this is my daughter Athena, my oldest. She and her husband live in Transylvania. They just had my first grandchild in October."
"Congratulations!"
"Thank you. I understand you're here to talk to Ares about her foster father."
Hermione jumped. "I'm surprised to hear you call him that."
"It seems like the most accurate way to describe him."
"Didn't Greyback kidnap her?"
"Yes, but honestly, we probably deserved it. Stratios…" June trailed off and shook her head. "I don't like to talk about Stratios, my first husband, after the way he treated Athena. You see, he was a weaponsmith. The Silversmith family has been for generations. I married Stratios shortly after school, and I suppose I was young and foolish and maybe a little starry-eyed. I thought weaponsmiths must be the bravest people in the world. Turns out they're the most cowardly.
"Stratios was terrified of Dark Creatures, and after Athena's bite, he was terrified of her. He tried everything to cure her, put her through every 'experimental' procedure, tried every quack that walks up to a werewolves' parents and offers to make things better. I should have put a stop to it. I should have protected her, but… Well, I didn't. I failed her. My little girl needed my help, and I didn't give it to her. Somehow I got it in my head that no matter how much Stratios wanted her cured, that he would never put Athena in danger to make it happen. That wasn't a good assumption.
June opened the bedroom door as softly as she could, but the little girl inside still looked up in the darkness and asked, "Are we going to the Ministry soon?"
"It's all right, Athena. Go back to sleep."
"I can sleep at the Ministry." Athena clutched the blankets around her, curling up under them. "I can wear the pajamas with the feet. It won't be too cold."
"Don't worry. We're taking care of everything." June closed the door again and rested her hand against it. Athena knew they weren't going to the Ministry. This close to morning, she had to.
With a sigh, June made her way downstairs to the living room, where her husband was talking with the newest Healer.
"Now, of course, you understand there is always a risk of complications," Healer Mordarski said as June walked in.
"What sort of complications?" she asked.
Before he could answer, Stratios said, "My biggest concern is the short window you have. There's not much time between moonrise and sunrise tonight."
"I'll have to work fast," Mordarski said, "but it's completely viable. Don't worry, Mr. Silversmith. So, how is my patient?"
"Scared," June said. "She knows something must be going on, if we haven't gone to the Ministry yet."
"It'll all be worth it, you'll see," Stratios said.
"What do you say we get things set up?" Mordarski clapped his hands on his knees, pushed himself to his feet, and gathered his bag from the coffee table.
"Right this way." Stratios led him up the stairs June had just descended, her following shortly behind. June tried to catch his arm, but Stratios was moving too quickly. They reached Athena's room before she had the chance. Stratios merely glanced back at her at the touch, then opened the bedroom door.
Athena looked up and sat up in bed as Stratios waved his hand over the glass butterfly set into the wall beside the door, making the walls and ceiling give off a warm glow. "Are we going to the Ministry now?" she asked, drawing her knees up and pulling the blankets up under her chin.
"We're not going to the Ministry tonight, sweetie," Stratios said, pulling Mordarski forward. "This is Healer Mordarski. He's going to help you."
"Please don't make me."
"Don't you want to be better?" Mordarski asked. Athena drew back towards the corner of her bed and the wall, her lips drawing into a tight little line. Her head gave tiny jerks back and forth, so slight that only June noticed them.
"It's all right, honey," June said. "Don't be scared. He won't hurt you."
"Will you stay?" Athena asked.
"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea." Mordarski took a seat in the chair beside her bed, the one June sat in while reading her stories. Athena squeezed herself into the corner as tightly as she could. "In fact, I'm afraid we're running a little short on time. Why don't you two step out, and Athena and I will get ready."
"Please don't leave!" Athena begged. Stratios took June's arm, pulling her out of the room. "Daddy, please! Mum! Please don't leave me!"
"She'll be all right," Stratios assured his wife, pulling her toward the staircase and down the stairs as Athena's shouts for them filled the hall. "Better than all right. In an hour, she'll be just like she was before."
"How do you know this one will work?" June asked.
"It has before. I've seen the proof."
"You said that for all the others, too."
"I know this one's going to work."
"No, you don't, Stratios! You've said that about every one of them. You don't really know. What if it doesn't? What if none of them do? Stratios, what if she can't be cured?"
"Don't you want her to be healthy?"
"I don't think she's that sick!"
"How can you say that? You've seen how she's changed."
"No, I've seen how you've changed her." June turned away from him, and her eyes fell upon the family portraits hung on the wall, one every Christmas since Athena was born. "Look at these, Stratios."
June pointed to two of the portraits, the first taken when Athena was four, and the second a year later, after she had been bitten. In the first, Athena happily bounced on Stratios' lap, laughing hilariously at some joke he whispered in her ear as he hugged her. In the second, Ares was there instead, reaching for his mother, as Athena tried to move closer to Stratios. Every few seconds, the portrait Stratios subtlely, but unmistakably, nudged her back towards June. "When's the last time you so much as hugged her?"
"You can't spoil a werewolf, June. You'll turn them into a monster. Don't you think…" He trailed off as the house went silent, Athena's cries for her parents cut off in mid-word. Almost a minute ticked by in uncomfortable silence, and then it was replaced by a brutal animal snarl punctuated by sharp barks. "She's transformed. I'm glad we sent Ares to his grandparents tonight." Stratios shook his head slightly, looking up at the ceiling towards the growls. "I wish there was somewhere else we could do this. I hate having her in the house like that."
"You hate having her in the house, period."
"June, that's not fair."
"Isn't it? You—" A blood-curdling scream ripped through the house, part human, part animal, completely agonized. June covered her ears against it, and even Stratios jumped. Worse than the scream, though, was the silence that rushed in to take its place. Even the growling and barking were gone.
June turned on her heels and ran up the stairs. She rushed to Athena's bedroom and threw open the door. Inside, Mordarski jumped. On a conjured surgical table laid Athena in wolf form, tied down at all four paws and with a muzzle strapped over her snout. She wasn't moving except for the soft, shallow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Down her right foreleg ran a long line of blood, staining the pale blonde fur of her coat a dark reddish brown.
"Mrs. Silversmith, I must ask you to leave," Mordarski said with forced calm. The scalpel in his hand gleamed in the light of the room and the moonlight flowing in the window, almost white in the light: silver.
June pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. "Get away from my daughter."
"Mrs. Silversmith, there's not much time for me to finish this."
"You are finished. Now get away from her or… I don't know what I'll do, but we'll both regret it."
Mordarski circled the room, skirting away from her and Athena until he reached the door.
"June, what are you doing?" Stratios asked from the doorway. "You've got to let him finish!"
"Get out," she growled, pointing the wand at both of them. Mordarski backed into the hall. With a flick of her wand, June slammed the door in their faces. The click of the lock echoed in the room and then faded to silence, punctuated only by the shallow in-and-out breath of the werewolf behind her.
What could he have done to render a werewolf unconscious? Even stunners took more than one hit. And that horrible scream still echoed in June's ears. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to concentrate on what was in front of her. Her daughter needed her help now.
She pointed her wand at Athena and said, "Episky." Nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, she tried a different first aid spell. Athena's leg twitched, but she didn't wake up and there was no change to the wound. June vanished the blood away from the cut. Its edges were black and ragged, as though burnt, and blood oozed out of it again. She had to stop that bleeding until Athena transformed back. She conjured bandages and wrapped them around Athena's leg as tightly as she dared, layering them until red no longer oozed through. Still Athena did not awaken.
June pulled the chair over and sat down, clasping her hands in front of her mouth. Please wake up. Maybe that was crazy, wanting to be in a room alone with a transformed werewolf, but somehow the snarling and straining would seem reassuring compared to the odd silence, punctuated only by the shallow breaths.
The window outside lightened, and after an eternity, Athena's body moved. June perked up, but Athena wasn't awakening; she was transforming. Her limbs thickened, returning to their normal proportions, and the bandages strained around her foreleg as it returned to the shape of a human arm. June vanished them, the restraints, and the muzzle. The bandages had stopped the bleeding temporarily, but as Athena's arm grew back to human size from the smaller wolf's foreleg, the wound pulled open, the sides gaping away from each other and blood welling up within it again.
When the shifting stopped, and Athena was again her usual self, June eased the girl onto her lap. The surgical table, no longer needed, vanished.
"Athena, sweetheart?"
The girl's head lolled limply against her mother's shoulder. The wound was bleeding worse now than it had as a wolf. June tried the first aid spells again, in the hopes they would work on her human form, but still there was no response. She gathered the girl in her arms and carried her down the stairs.
"It's too late now, isn't it?" Stratios was saying.
"I'm afraid so, Mr. Silversmith; it can only be done when the werewolf is transformed," Healer Mordarski said. "A pity. Your daughter was an excellent candidate. I think the procedure would have succeeded if I'd been allowed to continue."
Stratios looked up and jumped to his feet as June carried Athena into the room and went to the Floo powder on the mantle. "June, do you know what you've done?"
He'd never looked so small, so weak. "Do you, Stratios?"
"Mrs. Silversmith?"
June started awake and turned towards her daughter's hospital bed. "Athena?"
"I'm sorry," said the Junior Healer who had woken her. "She still hasn't regained consciousness."
"Why not?" She stroked Athena's hair, to no response.
"We still don't know. She's been given blood replenishers, her arm is healing, albeit slowly, the salves should have numbed the pain…"
"You're sure it's not the potions Mordarski gave her?" She couldn't bring herself to call that man a Healer after what he'd done to her daughter.
"A revelaspell on her blood showed nothing, and there's very little that could survive transformation both into and out of wolf form. We gave her Wiggenweld in case it was Draught of the Living Death, but that didn't have any effect." The Healer drew up a chair and sat down. "Healer Razvan and I were just discussing this case. We'd like to bring in a Legilimens, if you'll consent."
"A Legilimens? I don't understand."
"We don't see any physical reason why your daughter is still unconscious, but maybe there's a psychological one. This may be a magical sleep that her latent abilities created to protect her. If that's true, and we can work out why she still feels threatened, maybe we can make her feel safe enough to break the spell."
"I'm willing to try it."
"All right, we'll get hold of him and see if he can come first thing in the morning. Now you should go home and rest in your own bed."
"No, I don't want to leave her."
"Mrs. Silversmith, you've been by her side for five days. You have to take care of yourself, too."
She opened her mouth to argue, and his words echoed in her mind. Why she still feels threatened. "You think she's still asleep because of me."
"I didn't—"
"Don't start lying to me now."
The Healer sighed. "Mrs. Silversmith, children don't always understand that their parents have their best interests at heart."
Did Stratios really have Athena's best interests at heart? Could June honestly say she had when she'd deferred to Stratios without asking too many questions about the 'treatments'?
"I'll try anything," June forced herself to say. Tears came to her eyes, and she blinked them back. Athena needed to be strong now. "But you'll let me know right away if she wakes up?"
"We'll send our fastest owl."
"If she doesn't, can I bring her brother to see her? She adores Ares; if she'll wake up for anyone, it'll be for him."
"Certainly."
"Give me just a minute." The Healer stepped out of the room, and she stroked Athena's hair again, then leaned in close to her. "I won't let anyone hurt you again, Sweetheart. Not any more Healers, not your father, not anybody. I promise I'll keep you safe from now on, if you'll just come back to us." She kissed Athena's forehead, then made her way to the lobby, through the Floo and to home.
The house was quiet and dark. It was a little late for Stratios to be at his forge, but it wouldn't have been the first time he hid there when things were tough. That meant Ares was probably still with his grandparents. Merlin forbid Stratios step up and take up some slack, especially when it was only Athena's health on the line. June didn't bother trying to hold back the disgusted sound that escaped her throat as she went to the kitchen and made herself dinner. She would get Ares afterwards so he could sleep in his own bed that night, but a family meal just seemed like one thing too many. She sat down with her plate and flipped through the mail that had accumulated on the corner of the table. Three Daily Prophets were included. She unfolded the latest one and froze with her fork halfway to her mouth as she saw the lead story.
"Mordarski Murder Mystery!
"The controversial lycanthropologist Igor Mordarski was found dead last night…"
The meal forgotten, she unfolded the paper and read the article. They suspected a werewolf, both because of his profession and because the killing had been "painful, but bloodless". The Werewolf Capture Unit was involved and there were several suspects, but both the WCU and the Aurors had proposed one name: Fenrir Greyback.
Fenrir Greyback. In an instant, June remembered every time Stratios had threatened Athena into behaving. "Be good, or Fenrir Greyback will come and take you away." And Greyback had taken away at least a dozen, hadn't he?
June jumped up and ran back to the Floo. She practically flew down the halls of St. Mungo's and almost ran into the Junior Healer, who caught her elbows and stopped her from going into the Ulrica Farkas ward.
"Mrs. Silversmith, I thought you were going home."
"Where's my daughter?"
"She's in her room still. I'm sorry."
Something didn't feel right. June jerked away from the young Healer and ran to Athena's room, throwing open the door. The blanket was thrown back, and Athena was gone.
"See, I told you," the Healer said, coming up behind her. "She hasn't actually moved, I'm afraid. I just changed the sheets."
June turned and looked at him in disbelief, then pushed past him to the office at the end of the hall. "Healer Razvan!"
Razvan opened his office door. "What's going on?"
"My daughter's missing, and your Junior Healer's been Confunded."
"I tried to tell her not to get excited," the Junior Healer said. "Athena hasn't moved. I just changed the sheets and took the laundry out not long ago."
Razvan looked into Athena's room, then strode out to the hall and grabbed a Junior Healer from another ward. "I'm missing a patient. We need to sweep this hospital; I have to know if she's still here or not." He paused, then with a sigh, added, "and we might as well call the Ministry now, because I don't think we're going to find her."
"I didn't see Athena again for nearly 13 years, and then one day she showed up with some friends and a 'Missing Child' poster I'd put up. Said she'd heard I was looking for her." June wiped her eyes. "We speak and exchange letters since she moved to Transylvania, but Athena is very distrustful of healthy wizards. I can't blame her after what we did to her. You know, I offered to come to Transylvania and help her with the baby, and she said that she was fine, her friends had it covered, and she'd send me pictures for Christmas. For a long time, she and Ares couldn't even stand to be in the same room. They're getting better, and Ares is trying as hard as he can, but it still makes him nervous to be around a werewolf, and she's had a hard time forgiving him for that spell he invented."
"Which spell was that?" Hermione asked.
"Fragmina Argentea. The silver sharding spell the Werewolf Hunters use."
"Oh, that's the favor he did for them, isn't it?"
June nodded. "He says it isn't used how he intended it, but I don't know how else he thought a spell like that would be used. I'm glad he's moving away from that sort of thing. He's still a weaponsmith, unfortunately, but he's at least working on non-lethal tools instead. He's actually been making some tracking tags for dragons as a favor to Athena. She works at the Dragon Preserve in Transylvania."
"Oh, is she a dracologist?" Hermione asked. Maybe Charlie knew her.
"Not exactly. She's a Potions Master; she brews medicines for them. She was in the newspaper a few years ago for one she developed. I don't really understand it all—I was never very good at Potions—but I'm very proud of her." June sighed, rubbing the back of her hand unconsciously. "Whatever else he did, I have to give Greyback credit. He raised my daughter well. She's a very intelligent and capable young woman."
But distrustful of healthy wizards, Hermione thought.
The Floo flared up, and a young man a few years older than Hermione stepped into the room. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I got held up."
"Don't believe him. He's always getting held up," June said, pushing herself to her feet.
"Mum!"
"It's true. Would either of you like something to drink?" They both turned her down. "I'll leave you two to your interview, then."
"I am sorry I'm late," Ares said, holding out his hand to Hermione as his mother left. Hermione froze just before clasping it; running down the back of his hand were four lines of raw skin, the same shade of sore pink as her scars. "Just don't squeeze too hard," he said, grinning at the delay as he looked at the similar wounds on her neck. "It's almost full moon, but I'm sure you know that, too."
"Greyback did that?"
Ares nodded, taking a seat in an armchair opposite her. "At Azkaban, when they told you not to cross that red line around his cell, they meant it. You?"
"Mine happened during the war. He and another Death Eater captured me and my friends."
"I'm surprised you're still here to tell about it."
"To be honest, some days I am, too."
"Why do you want to study that guy after that?"
"I'm not just studying him," Hermione said. "I'm studying werewolf sociology—how werewolves interact with society and with each other. Unfortunately, crime is a part of that, and Fenrir Greyback is perhaps the prototypical werewolf criminal."
"Can't argue there. When I went to Azkaban to see him, Athena said there was something wrong with him, that he was sick and should have been in hospital instead of prison."
"You don't agree with her."
"Oh, I'll agree he was sick. I'm not sure in what sense of the word, but he was definitely sick. But he murdered my father, and no one knows how many other people, and the funeral had to be closed casket after what he did to Dad. Hell yes he deserved to be in jail."
"I understand you had to make special arrangements to visit him there. Why did you go?"
Ares stroked his chin. "You know, I'm not really sure anymore. When I was 20, I said it was because I wanted to know why he killed my father and kidnapped my sister, and I certainly meant that. And I can't deny that part of it may have been that I wanted to piss Athena off. She was trying so hard to get permission to visit him, and they wouldn't let her. All I had to do was walk into the Ministry and cash in a few favors. But I think part of it was… Well, I was only six when he took Athena away. Everyone tells me we were like two peas in a pod, but I barely remember anything of her back then. I think on some level, I wanted to understand why she loved him and hated us when he was responsible for everything that happened to her."
He chuckled. "You know, he actually laughed at me while I was there talking to him because of that. He thought it was hilarious that it was easier for me to talk to him than it was to talk to my own sister. But maybe I should start at the beginning."