O
ELPIS
Hope
"I knew it," Harry spat. "I knew it was too good to be true."
His current company, barricaded in the privacy of the main meeting room on the ground floor of St Mungo's, offered no reply. Kinglsey Shacklebolt had deep lines furrowed into his forehead, while Terrance Higgs, chief of the MoSS, glowered down at his hands. Claire Twyer, Head of St Mungos, was the only other person in the room. This new revelation had quelled her normal habit of speaking at a million miles an hour.
"Is this not a bluff?" she enquired, after a laboured silence. "A way to stop us undoing what must be a decade of work on his part? Of course The Crow doesn't want us to roll out a cure. Of course he's trying to terrify the world out of accepting it. I imagine he was sick to the stomach to hear we had a means of fighting back, so soon after his release of the curse, and has spent the last two months finding a way to prevent us from using it."
Strong and logical though this statement was, the three men in front of her were unconvinced.
"In two days the cure is due to be tested on hundreds of witches and wizards across the world," Kinglsey said. "We can't take that risk if there's even a minuscule chance this cure came from The Crow."
"Can you think of anything?" Harry asked Twyer. "Any reason this cure would be dangerous to wizards and witches in a way hasn't shown up on the tests carried out since May?"
"If I could I would already have told you," she said. "This curse, as you know, affects any individuals with a non-magical MDI - less than eighty. The lower it is, the iller they get and the more they are affected - we'd estimate an MDI of thirty or lower and chances of survival are slim to none. Wizards are protected by an elevated MDI - and we've already tested the cure to ensure it does not cause MDI to fluctuate. In addition, medical experts across the world have worked together to collate the list of necessary verification spells, and not one of them has flagged a problem. I am certain it is a bluff."
"Certain enough to risk your own workers' health?" Higgs demanded, and despite her bold words Twyer's determined front faltered for the briefest of seconds. This was enough to cement the doubts in the others' minds.
"Can we get a second opinion?" Higgs asked.
"From who?" Twyer retorted. "If I cannot answer your questions to the standard you want, then which of my overworked staff members do you suggest I place this burden on?"
Higgs offered no suggestion but Kingsley spoke up at once, two seconds ahead of Harry, who had the same name on the tip of his tongue.
"Hestia Jones."
O
With luck, Hestia was available to respond to the summons immediately. Calm and unflappable as Kingsley had predicted, she considered the problem before her for a long while, before concurring with Twyer's conclusion.
"Claire is right," she said. "She has perfectly explained the correlation between MDI and the symptoms. Nothing across the world has come up with a reason why this cure would be dangerous. Given that it hasn't yet been tested on a witch or wizard, I suppose containing an untraceable poison that affects only humans is a possibility..."
"But then it would not discriminate between the magical and non-magical," Twyer said, and Hestia's nod confirmed that she had already known this.
"So," Twyer said, a number of her tight, wiry curls standing in end as she squared back up to Higgs, "Hestia's words surely echo what I have been saying. Unless you can tell me of an ingredient that is not only untraceable but also activated by magic itself, The Crow's threat is not medically possible, and therefore that message is a hoax intended to halt our progress against him."
Harry and Higgs lapsed into intense discussion about how on earth they were supposed to proceed even if this was a bluff, given the ethical obligation to inform test subjects about The Crow's message, and the widespread reluctance that would ensue when they did. Kingsley remained mute, watching Hestia. Ever since Twyer's last words, his old friend had been deep in thought, running a short, filed down nail against her bottom lip, dark eyes darting back and forth as the cogs in her mind worked away.
"You've had a thought?" he said, when Harry and Higg's conversation hit a lull.
"What?" Higgs pounced, abandoning the discussion with Harry. It was going round in circles.
"I suppose there is ... an ingredient that might fit the criteria." Hestia met his piercing stare. "Zar serum. It is a substance that can only be activated by magical blood. Once in the blood stream, it impacts the immune system - specifically the part that recognises when it is time to stop fighting infection. Documented uses over the years have been for clandestine euthanasia - administered to already sick patients in an attempt to make the death look accidental. Combine Zar serum with the healing properties of this cure and I imagine the results could be catastrophic."
Twyer's eyes had narrowed. "I know about Zar serum," she said. "But only because an apprentice of mine five years ago mentioned it in their thesis, and it was one of the few times I've had to look up a term encountered in a student's writing. I've worked in this hospital for sixty years and never seen a case of it affecting a patient. It's rare."
"Incredibly rare," Hestia agreed. "But not impossible to procure. Undetectable unless a test is done with impeccable timing when the substance is in the blood. And, if I remember correctly, there is a link that would explain how The Crow came across its existence and potential usages."
She was on her feet now, her wand already pointing at the giant encyclopaedia sitting in the corner. The tome was a live update of all advances in medicine, all procedures, all ingredients no matter how obscure. Hestia located the Zs and flipped to the page she needed. The others waited with bated breath.
"The effects are as I described," she said, after reading the entry twice. "In the right conditions, it is possible to cultivate the plants from which it the serum is extracted. It was discovered in 1922, by - and this is the clincher, I'm afraid - Ambrose Golpalott."
"Golpalott? You mean..."
"Marmon Golpalott's grandfather."
The breath that each individual had been holding was let out in one. There was no need for Hestia to explain the significance of the revelation. At this crucial stage in developments, a familial link between the theorist behind the Narcoviral curse and a lethal ingredient that may be present in the cure was too strong a liaison to ignore.
Kinglsey sprung into action. "Order all staff to stop contact with the cure immediately," he said to Twyer, who was already on her feet. "I need to inform the confederation. Other agencies around the world will have received the message too and may be reaching the same conclusions. The rest of you, keep this contained for now please."
Harry thumped a fist on the table as each person in the room went about their separate duties.
Back to square one.
o
o
As with the Easter Holidays, students from wizarding families were to be sent home by floo rather than by train. Muggleborns would be tested first, and if negative would be returned to their houses by portkey. When Hope had asked her parents and Harry why muggles couldn't be connected up to the floo network as well, Harry had rather gleefully recounted an amusing tale of Grandad Weasley doing that very thing with his aunt and uncle's fireplace, only to be impeded by an electric fire, which had resulted in him having to blast it apart and smash up the whole living room.
"Basically, more trouble than it's worth," Harry had finished, grinning.
Nevertheless, it seemed to be causing quite enough trouble as it was. The setting up and careful staggering of hundreds of authorised portkeys to muggle homes was an immense organisational effort, and the main reason that Percy was currently swamped at work.
An anxious mood settled over the school in the final week of term. The weather was hot, the air sticky and humid, but the sun remained stuck behind thick, grey clouds, leaving a heavy feeling of oppression both in the castle and out in the grounds. Unlike most years, there was very little end of term laughter or merriment, with half the castle worrying about whether they would be able to return home at all. Those requiring a test were given a date and time to go to the nurse and receive official diagnosis. Small groups of students could be seen every hour traipsing down to the hospital wing and every few minutes someone would emerge, carrying a scrap of parchment and looking either delighted or ashen.
"Are you alright?" Hope said to Marion, finding herself alone with her in the dormitory and noticing her pale face and wan expression.
Marion bit her lip. "My curse test is after lunch," she said. "I can go back today if I'm clear. But I'm so sure I'll have it."
Hope wasn't sure what to say to this, and was acutely aware of her own privileged position. How awful not to be able to see your own family for fear of giving them a deadly disease, especially when the girls you shared a room with didn't have to worry about it at all.
"My brother said underage wizards are less susceptible to the curse," she said, trying to be reassuring while her words sounded empty and hollow. "I didn't really understand the logic, but it does seem to be that way – loads more students have tested negative than positive, and have gone home already. Hopefully that means you aren't infected. And if you are," she added, a thought occurring to her. "You can come to our house for the holidays, rather than staying here. It'll be busy, because we're having some of my younger cousins to stay, but you're welcome to. If you want. There's space in my bedroom for an extra bed."
Marion appeared both shocked and grateful at this suggestion. That afternoon, however, she sought Hope out in the common room, her face split with a smile.
"I'm clear," she said. "Getting a portkey back in half an hour."
"That's great news!" Hope exclaimed.
"Thanks for offering to have me to stay," Marion said. "I really appreciate it. Natalie and Elodie weren't very-" She didn't finish her sentence, two pink spots appearing on her cheeks. Hope was not in the slightest bit surprised that Natalie and Elodie hadn't offered Marion any help or sympathy. What did surprise her was the twinge of disappointment she felt at the news. As relieved as she was on her roommate's behalf, it would have been nice to get to know Marion properly by sharing her room over the summer holidays.
o
o
Kinglsey Shacklebolt was used to meetings, accustomed to difficult conversations and requests he could not grant. He had accepted long ago that being Minister for Magic meant you could never please everyone. When the request was coming from a friend of forty years and the person who had helped the world avoid international medical disaster, the situation became that little bit more complicated. Hestia paced the floor in front of him, agitated.
"We need to use The Crow's cure as a starting point, Kinglsey. It's the only way. We've been going round in circles for months. You've been in our department, you've seen the morale at an absolute low. Finally, at last, we are dealt a hand that might allow us to make progress and it gets taken away. If we can separate the Zar serum from The Crow's cure then we make it safe - it could be that simple."
It did not help the situation that he agreed with her. The international confederation of wizards thought differently and unfortunately it was his job to abide by their agreement.
"The confederation confirmed less than twelve hours ago that it was to be sealed away under the highest protection possible. That's the ruling and it's final. I see your point, Hestia, but there is no official consensus on what the tainted cure actually does. Zar poisoning is a logical suggestion but other theories have been floated around by specialists. We don't know there are not multiple factors at play."
"We could find out," Hestia retorted. "There are plenty of ways I can work with this cure without even touching it. How are we supposed to understand its dangers if we can't study the damn thing?"
He could tell by the glow to her cheeks and the narrowing of her eyebrows that she was close full blown fury - a rare emotion for Hestia. And while he could not blame her for her frustrations, collective ranting was never a productive solution.
"We are dealing with a highly intelligent individual in The Crow," he reminded her. "One who has second - even third- guessed various moves. The confederation are concerned that to use the cure as a jumping off point would be in line with his plans to cause yet more death and destruction. That we'd be playing into his hands."
"His plan could also be to scare us from ever touching it and never finding a cure. If so, we've played into his hands already." Hestia ground her teeth. "He's made mistakes, you know. He's not infallible."
"What mistakes?"
She offered no response, throwing herself down on the chair opposite. Kinglsey leant forwards on his elbows across the desk, concern intensifying.
"What mistakes? There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?"
If she hadn't been in such a flighty mood, she may well have brushed him off with a vague story. But she was not willing to give up on her argument until she had exhausted all possible means of persuasion. As briefly as she could, she told him how Jessye Laurier had come to her many weeks previously, shown her the link between the second variant of the curse and her own personal blood magene. Unlike other documented links with St Mungo's, this could not be explained by published articles or freedom of information requests. To have accessed it, The Crow must have had physical access to a file within the hospital. Kinglsey's black eyes were wide with renewed understanding as her explanation came to an end.
"You're telling me that you think there is a spy in St Mungo's?" And when her expression confirmed this, his voice acquired more heat: "Then why on earth haven't you spoken up about this before?"
"Because the matching test is the only piece of evidence we have," she said. "You know that won't be enough for the likes of Higgs. He'll write it off as a mistake or a careless slip. I know Jessye and I trust her. If she says the magene is a match then it is. If she says that file has been stored in her room for four years, then it has. We need more than this. If we - Jessye and myself - can have a sample of The Crow's cure, we'll be able to work out if there are any other links between the curse and St Mungo's research. And we can aim for finding a safe cure at the same time."
He surveyed her in silence.
"We'll be careful," Hestia said. "I am adamant that as long as the cure is not ingested or imbibed in the blood then we are not in danger. We can take extra precautions, work at my house - I can set up a secure area in the back room. We'll do it in addition to our working hours. No one else need know."
For a split second she was sure she'd convinced him. Then his head shook yet again.
"I still can't take the risk."
"The risk for who?" she enquired, an icy bite in her tone now. "Because Jessye and I have assessed the risk for ourselves and concluded that the benefits outweigh them twenty to one. The risk to the general population is almost non-existent if we are not even touching the stuff and making sure it's kept away from the hospital. So do you mean the risk to yourself and your position? Or another risk I haven't considered?"
Admiration battled frustration in his mind, but he had to hand it to her. He doubted even his wife, who had been by his side for thirty years now, would have forced him to face these stark truths with such a cool demeanour. He thought briefly of what Dumbledore had reported saying to Cornelius Fudge upon the rise of Voldemort.
You are blinded by the love of the office you hold.
Kinglsey Shacklebolt had enough self respect to know that he would never fall to such poor, self entitled levels of leadership as Fudge. Yet the notion that he may have come close was enough to shale his previously firm resolve.
"Very well." The half smile playing on his lips told his friend that he was grateful, not resentful, of her blunt words. "Give me today to think about how it will be done. The vials will be sealed away tomorrow and I need to witness it - I will find a way to extract a portion for your personal study. Yours and Miss Laurier's. No one else will be told."
oOo
July
As Hope had predicted, once back at home, she heard little about the hunt for The Crow. The rest of her family, at Percy's request, were doing their best to keep potentially upsetting information from Molly and Lucy, and in any case, there wasn't much to tell. The Crow was still lying low. Transmission of the curse was still reducing around the world. Yet no one was letting down their guard for the moment. It seemed authorities were anticipating The Crow making another move, without any concrete idea of what that move would be.
Hope spent most of her days down at the beach with Dom and Roxanne. The three of them had recently discovered a tiny cave hollowed out in the rocks along the shoreline. Warm but secluded, it had become their private hide out, and even though there was little of novel interest to talk about, Hope still looked forward to meeting them every day, to gossip about the latest snippets of news from their school mates, or else to discuss their wild theories on what The Crow might be doing now and how the wizarding world would eventually catch him.
Hope returned home much later than usual one evening, and was not surprised to be met by her mother as she hung up her jacket.
"I know I'm late," she started. "I- I lost track of time."
Her mother was not bothered about her tardiness after all.
"We need to have a chat, Hope, while Molly and Lucy are in bed. Can you come through for a bit?"
Apprehensive, Hope followed her into the living room, where her father was seated as well. Tonks cast a look towards the ceiling and then muttered a couple of charms to ensure their privacy. Hope had a fleeting image of prim little Lucy sitting up there with an extendable ear trailing to the crack in the door and had to bite back a grin.
"What's going on?" she asked, sinking down into a chair.
"There's something we need to talk to you about. Warn you about, I suppose." Remus shot a look at his wife. "You know our rules. We tell you what matters, and this could be a case of life and death."
"You might be told this at school in the new term," Tonks continued. "But we are unsure how much Professor Vector will say and there are certain facts we feel you need to know."
"It's nothing to be frightened about," her father added, his tone gentle and reassuring, as Hope twisted her hands together nervously. "Just something you need to understand, and be aware of."
Hope remembered Professor Izatt delivering a similar speech in their first ever Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson and thought, for the thousandth time in her life, how much better a teacher Professor Lupin would have been over Professor Edgecombe. Then she cleared her head of this thought in the wake of her parents' serious faces.
"A cure for the Narcoviral Curse now exists," her mother said, to the point as always. "One that will get rid of any trace of the curse from Muggles and prevent them from getting it in the future. It was discovered back in May."
"In Siberia?" Hope blurted out, without thinking. Her mother's eyes widened.
"Yes," she said. "How on earth did you know that?"
Idiot, Hope cursed herself. She was hardly going to admit to her parents that she had overheard this information while out of bounds in Hogsmeade buying a pregnancy test for Roxanne.
"Just a rumour that went round when I was at school," she said, trying to keep her voice casual. "And - and that's good, isn't it?" she added hastily, as her mother continued to look suspicious. She fixed an innocent expression on her face and addressed her father. "Didn't you say that's what was required, something that could work as both prevention and cure?"
Tonks, after another moment's hesitation, dropped the matter of her daughter's unexpected knowledge, much to Hope's relief. She would have to be more careful with her words from now on.
"Yes," Remus replied. "That is what was required. Unfortunately, there is now a problem - to put it mildly. Which is that if someone with high levels of magic in their blood receives this particular cure, then it will be fatal."
Hope's heartrate accelerated.
"The opposite to the curse itself?" Her mind went into overdrive as her mother confirmed this with a sigh, and the impact of these words sank in.
"Why have they produced a cure that does that in the first place?" she asked, bewildered. "Shouldn't the substance have been tested?"
"It was tested," Tonks said. "Weeks worth of testing took place in hospitals worldwide. But no one had factored in The Crow being able to have a hand in this as well."
"I don't understand."
"A few weeks ago, a magical laboratory in Siberia discovered that one of methods they were trialling had begun to produce an effective means of fighting the curse," her mother explained. "This was a little surprising to the workers, as the progress was sudden, but they didn't question it. It was a rudimentary laboratory, no doubt why it was targeted, but the limited testing they had available to them showed that their new discovery would be highly effective in ridding symptoms from muggles as well as boosting their resistance to the illness. Several countries, ours included, sent teams of Aurors and health professionals to confirm the authenticity of it, which they did."
Hope remembered the conversation she had overheard in Hogsmeade. "It's got to be a hoax, surely," Bentley had said.
This sounded far worse than a hoax.
"Once confirmed as a workable cure, samples were distributed to magi-medical sites across the world so that they could be tested extensively and replicated in more advanced environments," Tonks continued. "Some leaders told the muggle authorities that a cure was forthcoming, although Kingsley himself held off from doing that. Then, two weeks ago, The Crow sent a second holographic message to magical leaders, informing them of its deadly effect to our own kind."
"So The Crow made this cure himself? And then planted it?"
"Yes. Strike One, to create further tension and discord between magical and non-magical communities. And it is a clever move on his part. Non-magical leaders are now demanding to know why the cure they were promised is not materialising, and our leaders, even Kingsley, are floundering in what to tell them."
"I'm sure you see the dilemma," Remus broke in, reading her expression. "Effective though the cure is, they can't release it into the muggle world right now because it would be impossible to ensure that only non-magical people received it. Some would say - and it is justifiable for those who don't understand the full extent of the problem - that wizards created this nightmare, and muggles are the ones suffering, so why shouldn't wizards suffer in return? What does it matter if a few wizards die if all the muggles can be saved?"
Hope contemplated this, even as her father continued to speak. "It's not that simple, as I'm sure you know. Muggle-born children rarely have any idea about their powers until age ten, and some never get told about their invite to wizarding school at all, if their parents feel it is not appropriate. There are plenty of adults who didn't quite have enough magic in them at birth to be recognised as a witch or wizard, but who may now have a higher MDI, and that would trigger the lethal effect of the cure. Risking so many innocent lives simply can't be an option, especially as the cure would only have to kill a handful of people for muggles to lose their trust in it completely. Not just in that vaccine but in all that came after it. If no one was willing to be inoculated, the curse would run rampant again."
"Now leaders are having to be economical with the truth," Tonks continued. "As your dad says, they can't release it now, endanger thousands more innocent lives and risk turning muggles against all potential vaccines for good. But to muggle governmetns, how would it look if we told them the whole story, that it would save their kind and kill our own? It is difficult, in the face of such a statement, to refute the claim that we are choosing magical people over non-magical, even though there can be no other way to proceed."
"But they'll find a counter curse or a cure eventually, won't they? A safe one that The Crow has nothing to do with?"
"We hope so," her father said. "But an approved cure that's safe for both magical and non-magical people could be months away. All the while muggle leaders grow angrier and more impatient. They put measures of control in place too late, they relaxed those measures when they heard a cure would soon be made available, and now they are are bearing the brunt of a problem that was not their fault to begin with."
"They were warned," Hope said, indignation bubbling up inside her. She turned to her mother. "You said Kingsley and other leaders warned them right at the start! They could have stopped this from being an issue."
"Hope, you know it's not that straightforward," Remus admonished, and she subsided. "Yes, they were warned, but we can't fully blame them. They never understood the true extent of the problem, and in general muggles struggle to comprehend that magic creates as many problems as it solves. They don't understand why we wizards can't make the curse go away. In America, MACUSA has lost all control because the president has refused to meet with them for months now. He believes it is a hoax, to scare the muggles into submission."
Hope's shoulders slumped dispiritedly. How could the state of the world be this depressing?
"At times like this," she said. "Wouldn't it make so much sense to tell the muggles? Come clean about the magical world. I know the statute of secrecy is important but if people are dying... Surely if we could tell them what was going on it could save lives? People could be tested for magical blood before they got this - this vaxine thing. If their MDI was high they wouldn't need it at all, and everyone else could receive it without having to worry."
"That subject is discussed and debated every time a crisis like this occurs," Remus said. "But the risks are always there and always too numerous, and this is no exception. The American president is not alone in his suspicious attitude towards the curse. A lot of muggles think the illness itself is a hoax, even though the evidence of it is backed ten fold by muggle scientists and doctors. How do you imagine people like that would react to being told of a secret, magical society that has existed for centuries but that no one knows about? It would cause panic and confusion at best; at worst, open warfare. The Crow's plans could succeed quicker than even he anticipated if the unveiling of such information were to backfire. And once the statute of secrecy is fully broken, there is no going back."
"I suppose," Hope muttered. It seemed like the obvious solution to her, but she was hardly an expert in such matters. Then something else occurred to her.
"Can't they work off that cure? The planted one? Surely it must have some elements that can be used to produce a safe cure for all of us?"
"It was suggested by some, including Kingsley," Tonks sighed. "But the International and the European Wizarding Confederations decided it was too dangerous at this point for anyone to be in close contact with it, or to have it floating around in laboratories and hospitals. They ruled that it should be kept sealed away, under the tightest possible protection, at least for the time being. And that," she looked at her daughter, her eyes grave, "brings us to what we needed to warn you about."
Hope, having assumed that she had already heard the worst, felt a sense of disquiet.
"As I said, St Mungo's received an initial sample of the so-called cure, enough for a thousand or so doses," Tonks said. "When they discovered the lethal effect it could have on wizards, it was locked away, under the highest magical security possible within the hospital. Kingsley had to take charge of it himself. Now a rumour is gaining traction that in the time between St Mungo's receiving it and locking it away, a small amount was taken. Some believe that the stock currently in the sealed vaults at St Mungo's is not the full amount they received originally."
This sounded farfetched to Hope, especially if Kingsley had been in charge of the procedure. Kingsley was one of the most powerful wizards in the country, everyone knew that.
"It's true?" she said, doubt in her voice.
"We don't know," Tonks replied. "Kingsley has not commented and, as is the policy we often adopt as Aurors, with no evidence to the contrary we must assume that it is true."
"So that means..." Hope said, her mind racing. "It means..."
"It would mean that someone, somewhere, may hold a vial containing life and death," Tonks said softly. "In the wrong hands this cure could be used for blackmail. It could be used as a weapon. It could be duplicated in uncontrolled settings and sold to wizards on the black market, under the pretence of helping, only to create more death and more panic."
"So this is our warning," Remus cut in, leaning forwards in his chair and resting his chin on his fingertips. "Wizards may not have as much to lose as muggles, Hope, but they're still afraid. A lot of wizards carry the curse in their blood now, and as I told you at Easter, it doesn't burn itself out like it does for muggles. Your mum and Harry definitely have it already."
"You do?" Hope stared at her mother, taken aback. She caught sight of the indignant glare that her mother shot her father, and understood this to be information she would have preferred to keep secret. When she spoke, her tone was as calm as ever.
"All the Aurors were tested at St Mungo's last month to find out who needed to be kept well away from muggle communities," she said, and, as Hope appeared no less panicked by this information: "It's nothing for you to worry about, my love. I'm fine and I feel no different than I did before. But you see why wizards are justified in being frightened? Some, I am sure, would take any cure going, to try and protect their muggle friends and relatives. Which is why we are telling you. Professor Vector will deliver a general warning but it's unlikely she will go into details. We want you to understand how serious the situation could be, and react accordingly."
Hope took a deep breath and swallowed the nervous lump in the back of her throat. "OK."
"You understand what we mean by that?" Remus added. "If you see or hear anything suspicious you are to report it, tell a teacher you trust. You are not under any circumstances to take something that claims to be an antidote or a cure. Do you understand me? Promise us you will be sensible."
Hope met his eye fiercely, her head held high. "I promise."
O
Hope's mind was still reeling an hour later as she made her way up to her bedroom. For all her bold acceptance of the news, it was becoming too much to take in. First muggles were at risk. Now everyone was at risk. Her mother was infected with the curse. The rest of her family might be too. Someone, somewhere could be carrying around a vial of liquid that the health of half the world depended on, yet that might as well be poison to the other half.
About to push open her door, a movement in the corner of her eye made her turn.
Little Molly Weasley was peering out of the spare bedroom. Hope forced a cheerful expression on her face at once. It would not do to pass on any anxieties to her younger friends.
"Hey Molly, you OK?"
Molly nodded.
"Do you need anything?"
The younger girl shook her head.
"Sure?"
Molly shrugged.
"Come on, let's get you back into bed," Hope said kindly. She followed her into the spare bedroom. The light was on and Lucy was also sitting up in bed, almost doll like, her pyjamas pristine and her dark hair neatly brushed and tucked behind her ears. But her eyes were wide.
"We can't sleep," Molly said, sitting back down on her own bed.
"Hope?" Lucy was looking anxiously at her. "Are - are we all going to die?"
Taken aback, Hope blinked at her.
"Why do you say that?"
"It feels like we are," Lucy mumbled, her little hands smoothing the duvet over her lap. "It feels like only bad things are happening."
Hope had not fully appreciated until that moment how terrifying this situation must be for the two of them. Too young to be told the full story in case it scared them senseless, yet too old to be oblivious to the panic and tension surrounding them, which must be equally disturbing. Hope could be as reassuring as she liked, but there was no denying it. Signs of death and destruction were all around them.
She now realised how hard it must have been for Teddy all those years ago, when she had looked him in the eye and asked him bluntly if their father was going to die. How were you supposed to reply to that question, being honest, sensible and tactful all at once?
She would have to try. Her older friends were always there for her, and it was her job now to be the mentor and the guide for once. She sat down on the side of Molly's bed.
"Sometimes," she said, feeling that Teddy would do a much better job of this. "It does feel like everything in the world is going wrong. But often that is because you only hear about the negatives. People talk far more about the bad things than they do about the good things."
"What good things are there right now?" Lucy said, her tone doleful.
"Well," Hope said, thinking hard. "Witches and wizards all over the world are dedicating their lives to finding a cure for the curse. Muggles everywhere are staying safe with their families to make sure that they don't pass it on to other people. They're being kind to each other, too, helping each other so that the most vulnerable still receive support and friendship. Nurses and doctors – that's what healers are called in the muggle world – are working every day to save lives. A lot of our healers are working undercover in muggle hospitals, to give patients the best possible chance of recovering."
"Sometimes they don't, though," Molly said, her lip wobbling.
Hope took Molly's hand in one of her own and Lucy's in the other.
"Yes, people are dying," she said. "And it's so sad. But thousands more are surviving, getting better. Every time someone does get better, our kind get more information. Information that will one day help us make the curse go away for good. Try and remember that when you feel scared. That it isn't all bad. We can never be sure of what will happen, but we can always be hopeful. Because nothing lasts forever, not even bad or frightening things."
Lucy managed a smile. There was still a worried wrinkle in her forehead, but the tension had eased from her shoulders.
"There is much more good in the world than bad," Hope said. "We just have to try and see it."
Oompa shuffled down her arm and onto Lucy's, then hopped onto her shoulder and put her little tongue on Lucy's cheek. Lucy giggled.
"Oompa can stay here with you tonight," Hope added. "She's good at cheering people up."
"I wish we could have one of those," Molly said, gazing longingly at the tiny ball of orange fluff. "Mum and Dad won't let us."
"Why not?"
"Because they say having a pet is too much trouble. We are only allowed the family owl, and he's really boring."
"Pygmy puffs are the easiest pets ever to look after," Hope said at once. "They look after themselves. All you have to do is cuddle them and sometimes give them sweets."
Lucy sighed.
"Dad doesn't think that."
"I tell you what," Hope suggested. "Check with your dad first, but if he says yes, then next time you can take Oompa home with you for the weekend, and you can show him how easy she is."
Lucy and Molly were delighted at this.
O
"I still don't really get what's going on," Hope confessed to Teddy a few days later. "I'm trying to get my head round it, but it's so confusing. One minute the curse is a threat to muggles, now suddenly there's a cure that helps muggles but would kill wizards. How does that even work, anyway? Is it all to do with MDI again?"
Teddy ran a finger thoughtfully over the bridge of his nose.
"Think of it like quidditch," he said, after a pause.
"Quidditch?" Hope gazed back at him blankly. She understood quidditch better than anything, but she couldn't see how that was going to help her comprehension here.
"Yes. Imagine that you take a group of people who've never even heard of quidditch, hand them each a broom and set them to play against an established team without telling them how the game works. What happens?"
"They lose?" Hope suggested, wondering if Teddy was expecting some profound, intelligent response.
But Teddy was nodding.
"Exactly. The final score would depend a bit on their natural physique and ability. Some might not get off the ground at all. Others might pick up a few techniques, may even be able to get some goals in and keep the score fairly even. But without knowing all the rules, they would lose, not least because they would be missing a vital piece of information - that capturing the snitch ends and in most cases wins them the game."
"OK."
"Now let's say someone gets given a chance to rescue the game. They are allowed to send on a substitute team to play instead of the first team and they can send in whoever they want. So they would produce the best team they could possibly think of, right?"
"Right." Hope said obediently, still wondering where this was going.
"It's a first class team, hand picked from the best international players in the world. They know exactly what they're doing, each and every one of them."
"Sure..."
"The beaters remove any imminent threats right from the off," Teddy went on. "Make it easier for the rest of the team to do their jobs. The chasers start scoring points to make up any deficit in the score and take the team into a comfortable lead. The keeper ensures that the other team can't score more points and damage that lead. Then, once they have a big enough advantage, the seeker catches the snitch. Game over. The winning team then has a debrief with the original, struggling team, teaches them the rules and trains them up to ensure that, should they find themselves in such a position again, they will at least be able to hold their own. With me so far?"
"I mean, yes," Hope said, unable to help grinning back at him. "Because all you've done is explain the rules of quidditch to me. I do know how to play quidditch, if nothing else. Better than you, as it happens."
Teddy's mouth twitched in amusement, but he did not retaliate.
"Fair point. But now think of the resistance to the illness as that disastrous game of quidditch. However much of an effort the seven new players put in, the game is always going to end on the terms of the other team if they don't have a clear idea of the rules. The opposing team is the equivalent of the Narcoviral curse. It doesn't necessarily kill, but in that situation, there is never going to be a good outcome."
"OK," Hope said. "And are you saying that the really talented team is the cure?"
"Exactly! It does several things at once. It eliminates any short term threats, if there are any. It repairs damage to the body, if damage has already been done, and doesn't give the curse much chance to fight back. That's not to say there wouldn't be any repercussions, of course. A bit of retaliation and some dirty tactics. No medicine is ever completely devoid of side effects. But eventually, in most cases, the new team would triumph. If there was no imminent fight to be had, it would at least put defensive strategies in place for the future. That's what this cure does and that's how muggle vaccines work anyway. They prepare the body to recognise and fight disease before it can take hold and have negative effects."
"Right," Hope said again. "But that's in muggles? What's happening with wizards? Are we playing quidditch too?"
"If they are infected with the curse, yes, but in wizards the game is much more even. They already have the knowledge of the rules and the skills to match the other team, so no one's winning or losing by any great amount. All the positions are equally proficient, let's say, so the points difference is negligible and no damage is being done to either team because the beaters are equally good at firing and avoiding bludgers. The seekers are evenly matched as well, so neither of them allows the other an opportunity to end the game. That's how the curse is working in wizards. It's completely balanced, not doing them any harm, but not going anywhere, either."
"So what would happen to magical people if they were given the cure?"
"The cure we are aiming to produce would have much the same effect as it does on muggles," Teddy said. "It would ramp up the fight, and there may still be unpleasant side effects - worse ones, even, because the magic would exacerbate them. Ultimately though, the fight would still be won by the stronger team ninety-nine percent of the time. The curse would be eliminated and that would be the end of it."
"What does The Crow's cure do that's different?"
Teddy chewed his lip for a few seconds before replying.
"It would be as if there was no snitch," he said.
"Huh?"
"There's no snitch in a game of quidditch. What happens?"
Hope rolled her eyes.
"There always a snitch in quidditch."
"Imagine there isn't. Imagine that as the rescue team comes barrelling in to save the match, the snitch escapes. Or someone steals it. Or burns it. Whatever. But in the excitement of the new entrance no one notices. Everyone assumes the snitch is still there to be caught. What happens?"
"The game would never end," Hope supplied at once. "You'd need to keep subbing players on and off and you'd just go round and round in circles until someone realised how stupid it was and called it a tie or awarded it to the team currently in the lead."
"There are no subs. And no one with the common sense to call it off. What happens then?"
Hope stared at him impatiently. "You don't seriously need me to tell you what would happen in an endless quidditch match where the players are doomed to play until the end of the game, which is when the snitch is caught… except there is no snitch... so the game can't end."
"Humour me," Teddy insisted. "Tell me what would happen."
"They'd keep going until they passed out from exhaustion, or dehydration, or fell asleep on their brooms. So they'd all eventually fall off or crash. Or maybe the beaters would go round hitting everyone over the head just to be able to stop playing."
"There you go." Teddy seemed very pleased with his analogy, but Hope was none the wiser.
"Teddy, I'm even more confused now."
Teddy leant forwards, looking animated, willing her to understand.
"In wizards, this cure would still fight the curse, and upset the balance so that it no longer ticks along harmlessly inside the body, but it would also use the individual's magic against them. It would force their magic to destroy a very small but very crucial element to the entire remedial process."
"So it would burn the snitch?" Hope offered uncertainly.
"Yes," Teddy said, his eyes glowing. Hope could never fail to be impressed with the enthusiasm and passion that Teddy always displayed when discussing complicated medical topics. "The Crow's cure destroys a minuscule part of the wizard's immune system. Something that you wouldn't even know was there until it had gone. That tiny, almost always invisible element that is so, so essential. Because in that quidditch match, even when the deficit in points has long been remedied, even if it is completely obvious that the new team has won, the game can't end without the snitch. That's what would happen. The curse would fight the cure and continue to do so, to the bitter end. And the body wouldn't be able to handle it. It would go haywire, react increasingly unpredictably, and eventually shut down all together."
Hope felt nauseated, although she did her best not to show it. She cast around for a practical question.
"Even in wizards who don't have the curse to start with?"
"That is a bit of a grey area," Teddy admitted. "We suspect that if the person wasn't already infected with the curse then the visible consequences wouldn't be instant. But the cure would still do similar damage, and then if the individual did become infected the fatal effects would kick in."
"That makes it all the more terrifying, I suppose," Hope mused. "Never knowing when illness could strike."
She twirled a strand of red hair through her fingers absent-mindedly. Then, feeling a renewed wave of agitation, burst out:
"How? How does someone come up with all this? Something so horrible, so awful, so calculated, and - and out of nowhere. I mean, no one's ever heard of this man before, and now he's brought the world to a stand still."
"Dark wizards don't really spring out of nowhere," Teddy said gently. "It often seems that way, but they tend to be the result of years of secret plotting and planning. Voldemort lay low for a very long time between his school days and his first reign, so much so that a lot of people couldn't work out where he had come from at all. Few ever recognised him from his teenage self."
"You mean The Crow could be a dark wizard other people have known for years, under a disguise?"
This thought did not make Hope any more cheerful.
"It's possible," Teddy acknowledged. "Although there are no leads as to who it might be. Even the MoSS have no idea, and normally they'd have suspects in a situation like this; individuals with a criminal record, for example. It could be a perfectly ordinary member of society who has been scheming away in the background all these years."
Hope was thoroughly unnerved again. She couldn't help it. The thought of this deadly, psychopathic criminal masquerading as a harmless man who she may have passed in the streets was downright terrifying. She tried to keep her face impassive, which she found so easy to do with most people. It was harder with Teddy. Teddy could always see through her mask to the maelstrom of emotions underneath.
"Hope." Teddy leaned over and gripped her wrist. "I know it's frightening. But it's not as bleak as it sounds, I promise. This will pass. They will catch him, whoever he is, and we'll find a way to beat this curse as well. Good will overcome evil in the end."
Hope tried to smile. She had said almost the exact same thing to Molly and Lucy, after all.
"How do you stay so calm all the time?" she laughed.
She had meant it as a rhetorical question but Teddy, as usual, pondered it intently before replying.
"I suppose mainly because of the people I spend time with," he said. "Mum and Dad are always so rational. I'm working every day with Hestia and Jessye, and they are the calmest, most collected people I've ever met. They get presented with the facts and work with what they have, nothing more or less. Most of all I have Vic, of course. I know Dom thinks she's a drama queen." He grinned ruefully and Hope chuckled. "But she isn't really. Not at work. She's a healer. It's her job to be methodical and unflappable and clear headed. She's amazing... And all those influences keep me calm too. You know what I mean?"
Hope smiled properly, a warm glow blossoming in her chest, the negative feelings subsiding. She did, in fact, know exactly what her brother was talking about. That calming, soothing effect was the influence that her parents, her two best friends - and indeed Teddy herself - had always had on her.
oOo
August
As it turned out, there was no need for Molly and Lucy to borrow Oompa at all. When Percy dropped his daughters back off at the Lupin residence a week later, Hope was greeted with a mini explosion of excitement.
"Hope! Look, Hope! Look!"
Lucy was clutching a ball of red fluff and Molly was bouncing up and down next to her. Two tiny pygmy puff eyes sparkled at them from the red tufts in Lucy's tiny hands.
"I hear I have you to thank for the repeated insistence that pygmy puffs are no trouble at all?" Percy enquired, raising his eyebrows at Hope, as Molly and Lucy, impeccably behaved as always, both went upstairs to put their bags in the spare bedroom.
"Ah-" she wondered if he was actually annoyed. It was always hard to tell with Percy. A glance up told her his eyes were kind.
"I don't know exactly what you said to them," he said, lowering his voice. "They were so much less worried about the curse after their last visit. They haven't stopped going on about you, Hope, and they said they loved talking to you. So what ever you talked to them about, thank you. I'm very grateful. Both for that and for encouraging them to insist on a pet. That has done wonders as well."
"Oh. You're welcome," Hope said, a tad confused, but happy that she had at least been of use to someone.
"What did you say to them?" Remus enquired, as Percy hurried off to work.
Hope tried to remember. "They were so worried about the curse and people dying. I told them there are still lots of positives, ways we can be hopeful, and that there is more good in the world than bad, but that sometimes you couldn't see it. I felt it wasn't very helpful at all to be honest- they sort of took me by surprise and I rambled a bit."
Her father squeezed her shoulder. "Sometimes simple words help more than you think."
Molly and Lucy came back down the stairs a few minutes later, Lucy still carrying their new pet and Molly with Oompa on her shoulder.
"She and Oompa are friends now," Lucy announced.
"Of course they are," Hope said. "Oompa loves making new friends. What's her name?" She gestured to the red pygmy puff.
"Hope!" Molly looked at her as though this was the most obvious thing in the world, and Hope burst out laughing.
"It's something, I suppose," she said to her family later that evening, as she lay on the rug in the living room flicking through a magazine. Very unusually, all four of them were there at the same time. "If I amount to nothing, at least I have a pygmy puff named after me!"
"Why on earth would you amount to nothing?" her mother enquired, a slight crease in her forehead. Teddy was also staring over at her in mild concern.
For the most fleeting of seconds, Hope hesitated. It was an ever growing worry in the back of her mind, now. That she was a failure. That she could not possibly live up to everything that was expected of her, with her famous family, her clever father and her Auror mother, both of them war heroes, and her talented and successful older brother. Sometimes a profound fear that she was already set on the road to disappointing her friends and family seized her, and she was never sure how to release its strong grip.
What she was an expert in was how to hide all traces of her anxieties. The moment passed, her hesitation imperceptible as she brushed off her previous comment.
"Joking," she said easily, grinning and forcing an added sparkle into her eyes. "Obviously!"
The other three appeared convinced. Hope sighed internally. If only it were so easy to convince herself.
OOO