“And so you can see the difficulty one would have in successfully removing one’s hand from its mouth. Hermione, what is the matter?” Maeve stood at the front of the class with her hand firmly clamped between the teeth of a Snapping Sugar Sprite. Hermione immediately stopped surreptitiously waving her quill at Harry in an attempt to attract his attention, and faced forward.
“Nothing, Professor,” she said guiltily.
“You haven’t been paying attention since you came back from your holidays. Are you quite sure there is nothing bothering you?”
“She probably went on a date with Weasley,” Draco Malfoy said in a snide voice. “That would be enough to make anyone lose their marbles.”
“Yes, thank you, Mr Malfoy,” Maeve said crossly as Ron went a funny shade of puce and immediately buried his head in his textbook. “When I want a childish, immature remark from you, I will ask for it. Until that unheard of event happens, kindly keep your mouth closed.”
Neville Longbottom’s hand shot into the air and Maeve turned her relieved attention to him.
“Yes, Neville?”
“Could you tickle it, Miss,” he suggested. There were sniggers from the rest of the class, and Neville sagged a little in his seat.
“Now, that’s not a bad idea, Neville, and with some creatures it would work, but unfortunately the Snapping Sugar Sprite is a little trickier than that. Does anyone else have any suggestions?”
And now she knew there was something wrong with Hermione, because normally the girl’s hand would have been reaching for the ceiling. Instead, she was busy scribbling something on a piece of parchment.
“No-one got any suggestions? Come on, you are supposed to have researched these creatures for your homework. I know we are just back from a break, but even so, a little effort would be nice.”
Seamus Finnigan eagerly put his hand in the air.
“Yes, Seamus?” she asked hopefully.
“Can I go to the toilet, Professor?”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake! Yes, go on with you.”
She began to look slightly uncomfortable as the teeth of the Sprite sank into her hand, but this had become a battle of wills between her and her intractable class. She was going to wring the answer out of them, even if it meant losing the use of her left hand.
“It’s a Sugar Sprite,” she prompted through gritted teeth. “It likes sugar and anything sweet.”
There were blank looks all around, except for Hermione, who had finished scribbling and looked up. She seemed to finally understand a question was being asked, but having missed it, she didn’t know how to answer. She couldn’t ask for it to be repeated because that would be tantamount to admitting she hadn’t been paying attention in the first place.
“It is repelled by anything that would in any way eradicate sugar,” Maeve said desperately as the creature began to suck at her skin.
Finally, Hermione cottoned on to what was being asked of the class and her hand shot up with its customary authority.
“Yes, Hermione?” Maeve breathed gratefully.
“You need a toothbrush. They hate them. It’s even better if you can get one with toothpaste on it. In a really tight spot, you could always throw a bit of mouthwash at it.”
With amazing swiftness, Maeve produced a ready-pasted toothbrush from her desk drawer and waved it threateningly at the Sprite, who immediately let go of her hand with a high-pitched squeal. With the aid of a bag of Honeydukes finest, she managed to entice the creature back into its cage, and with a sigh of relief, slammed the door shut. Hermione had taken advantage of the professor’s inattention to slip the parchment to Harry, who was reading it when Maeve turned her attention back to the class.
“Not exactly dangerous is it,” Malfoy said.
“If you couldn’t produce a toothbrush, and it stayed on your hand, or whatever part of the anatomy it had hold of” “ her eyes clearly suggested she knew exactly which part of Malfoy’s anatomy she would like the Sprite to clamp onto “ “then it would suck out every drop of fluid in your body in its search for sugar. A particularly nasty way to die, unless you happen to enjoy shrivelling up like a prune.”
A few of the girls made disgusted sounds as this, but Malfoy looked unconcerned and hadn’t given up the opportunity to score points against his teacher.
“Why can’t you just blast it with your wand,” he sneered.
“It will repel the magic. Sugar Sprites are made up of eighty-five percent sugar, and this high concentration of glucose seems to just shrug off any traditional magic.”
“Can we move on to something interesting now?” he asked.
“Yes, you can move on to the rubbish bin if you like.” She reached into her robes for her wand. Immediately, Malfoy shuffled uncomfortably in his chair and muttered something under his breath. Seamus chose that moment to re-enter the room, diverting attention from Malfoy with the news that he’d seen someone from the Ministry lurking in the corridors. Maeve told him to sit down and stop spreading rumours, before wrapping up the class.
“Right, that’s just about it for today. I want to see all your parchments on my desk before you leave. If today is anything to go by, I shall not expect too much in the way of quality or quantity. I suppose I hardly need remind you that you will be sitting your N.E.W.T.s next year. Perhaps the time has come for you to apply a little concentrated effort to this class.”
She watched as they clattered, grumbling, to their feet and made their way to the front with their homework. Some of it was in fairly good condition, but quite a few of the parchments displayed the ill-effects of having spent a week in their homes, at the mercy of younger siblings and animals. She was sure there was tomato ketchup on the back of Dean’s, and she didn’t even want to guess at what the faint brown stain was on Seamus Finnigan’s. As they stampeded from the room, she thought Harry was going to stop back, but he hesitated and followed Ron out of the door with Hermione bringing up the rear.
“Thank you, Harry,” Hermione whispered in his ear as she caught up with him. Harry shrugged his shoulders at her and gave her a very neutral look as Ron turned around to look at them.
“What are you two whispering about?” he asked.
“We weren’t,” Hermione said, with a fairly convincing display of righteous indignation. “Honestly, Ron, you can be so funny sometimes.”
“You bloody well were, I heard you. Your mouth is bigger than you think,” he replied. “You said thank you to Harry,”
“Harry helped me with some homework.” Hermione tried to cover up with a quick lie, but Ron could see straight through it.
“What would Harry be doing helping you with homework when for the past five years it has been the other way around,” he argued. “Fine, if you two have your little secrets then don’t worry about me. I can always find someone else to be friends with.” He gave them both a doleful look before stalking off down the corridor in disgust.
“He is so touchy at the moment, and I don’t think it’s his dad,” Hermione said, watching Ron disappear.
“I think Ron is feeling a little protective of you,” Harry said. “He’s been that way since your friend Viktor appeared on the scene.”
“What?” she looked confused. “What’s Viktor got to do with anything? We’re just friends.”
“I know that and you know that, but Ron is blissfully unaware of the fact. You might try paying him a bit more attention once in awhile.”
“I do pay him attention. Lots of it.” Hermione was looking very confused by now.
“But not the kind of attention I think Ron is looking for,” Harry said before hoisting his bag onto his shoulders and walking away from her.
“I meant the thank you, Harry,” she said, and he stopped. “If you had given her Remus’ robes, she would have found out what we did, and we don’t know if it’s worked yet.”
“I don’t think she would. She would just have assumed it was something that happened while he was working for the Order.” He played with the straps of his bag in a nervous way; the more they had both thought about it, the more fretful they had become about the whole thing. “Anyway, you were so worked up in there I thought I’d better not give it to her or you would have blown the whole thing out of the water.”
“Well, you said you would give it to her straight after the lesson. What else could I do?”
“Let it drop, Hermione. We will wait until after the full moon and then I’ll give it to her,” Harry said, hoping to bring an end to the conversation.
“You were the one that persuaded me to make the potion, so don’t get snappy with me now,” she hissed. “Really, the ingratitude of some people.”
With a toss of her head, she turned her back on Harry and walked off in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” he shouted. “I thought we were going for some lunch.”
“I’ve changed my mind!” she yelled back, disappearing round a corner. Harry shrugged and wandered off to see if he could cheer Ron up, but without a compliant Hermione he doubted it could be achieved.
Maeve was relieved the class was over. It had been a difficult two days, trying to motivate the students after their week in the real world. It was even worse at the moment with their exposure to the war, which was slowly intensifying as the Death Eaters became more daring. Only yesterday there had been an attack right outside the Ministry, and a worker in the Department of Magical Transportation had been killed in a seemingly random attack by three Death Eaters. She felt rather mollycoddled at Hogwarts. Dumbledore’s certainty that the place was impregnable gave her a complacent feeling that could prove dangerous. As she tidied up her desk she heard a soft knock on the door, and as she raised her head, it opened slowly.
“Afternoon!” It was Roderick Rampton, who had recently become a little less invisible.
“Is it?” she asked, looking quickly at her watch. “Yes I suppose it is, just.”
“Would you like to grab a bite to eat?” he asked, oozing charm.
“Erm, I really do have a lot to do,” she said, trying to look busy. She liked Roderick, in small doses he could be fairly amusing, but she didn’t think she could cope with him over her lunch hour.
“Oh, go on,” he said persuasively. “It can’t hurt, can it?”
His wide smile grew even wider and she could feel herself caving in under the force of such allure.
“Well… ” She hesitated and was lost as he flounced into the room and slipped his arm through hers.
“Atta girl!” He grinned as he gently pulled her away from her desk and out of the classroom.
“Aren’t you supposed to be seeing and yet unseen?” she asked with a mischievous smile. His arm was firmly linked with hers, and it made her feel both uneasy and delighted “ a situation she didn’t entirely like.
“Well, yes, I suppose so. But being as we’ve already met, I think we can gloss over that little technicality, don’t you think,” he said.
“Why do I get the feeling you have the potential to be serious trouble,” she said with a laugh.
“Trouble! Moi!” he exclaimed, feigning a wounded expression.
“Yes, you,” she insisted as they approached the Great Hall. The sound of students could be heard chattering away, and cutlery scraped against plates. They entered from the teacher’s doorway and quietly sat down at the head table before both asking their plates for sandwiches and orange juice.
“How long will you be here for?” she asked between mouthfuls of bread and ham.
“I don’t know. It’s a bit of an easy job this; nothing but wandering around and keeping a close eye on you. It’s hardly taxing, is it? Especially when you are so easy on the eye.” His flattery was almost constant and she blushed under the weight of it.
“Surely they will move you around though? I haven’t even seen the other Auror. I was told there were two of you.”
“That would be Titus Snow. He does the night shift. Old chap keeps himself to himself, really. He’s a good bit older than I am so we don’t really have much in common. We just exchange a hello and a goodbye when we swap shifts.” He popped a rather large tomato into his mouth. “To be honest, I think he’s a bit fed up of being stuck here. He wants to be out there duelling with Death Eaters, I think.”
“And you don’t?” she asked curiously.
“Well, yes and no. It’s a glorious battle and all that rot, but then there is the small matter of losing one’s life, which is not my idea of fun.”
“But surely that’s why you signed up to become an Auror? Fighting the enemy and destroying evil”
“Yes it is, I suppose,” he said, but Maeve wasn’t convinced by his answer. In fact she got the distinct impression he would have been more than happy if he never had to face a Death Eater in his lifetime.
They finished their lunch and the conversation moved to lighter matters, including his imminent birthday party, to which she was invited. For a moment she contemplated inviting Severus as her guest, but somehow she couldn’t see the two of them hitting it off. Although, she thought with a smile, it would have made quite an amusing spectacle. As they stood up to leave, Professor Sprout called Maeve over so Roderick made his excuses and left.
“I’ve got those samples ready for you,” the Herbology Professor said as Maeve sat down next to her. “You can collect them when you are ready.”
“That’s very kind of you, Professor, I can come and collect them later. No doubt it will keep the second-years occupied for an hour or two.” Maeve stood up again. “Come to think of it it might keep my sixth-years occupied too; they are so distracted at the moment.”
“It’s difficult for them,” Professor Sprout said sympathetically. “They don’t know what’s going to happen next.”
“I know,” she agreed as she stepped back and pushed the chair in, pausing as her foot stood on something soft. She moved her heel and found what had once been a blue square, but was now a flat mess. She picked it up and immediately frowned; this was the second time she had found a piece of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum and now she was beginning to think it wasn’t a coincidence. She had no idea what it meant, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was somehow significant. She pocketed the tiny packet, left the Hall, and headed for the entrance. The afternoon was free from lessons, and now that they had discovered the potential cause of the Sleepers she had little left to do in the way of research, so time was more plentiful. Perhaps a quick ride around the grounds on Saoirse would lift her spirits.
The afternoon sparkled with cold. A fresh fall of snow had covered the grass, and she could see that the lake had frozen. Maeve gave a chuckle to herself as she thought of the Kraken and the Squid, shivering together beneath the frozen surface. Served the bloody thing right for not coming out when it had the chance. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen as she approached the makeshift stable, so she let herself into his hut to get Saoirse’s tack. She was in and out as quickly as possible; Hagrid’s hut scared even her, with its abundance of nasty surprises that could often be found in the gloom. The horse was happy to see her, and as she flung herself up onto its back, it high stepped out of the shadow of the buildings and into the brightness of the early afternoon. She rode away from the lake and across the fields beyond the school, Saoirse picking her way across the snow covered ground. Both horse and rider emitted huge gasps of white breath as they moved through the air, and Maeve was very glad she had picked up her outdoor cloak as she had left the school. After an hour, she turned for home and a shadow crossed the pale sun. Looking up she could see the swooping scarlet of Roderick as he flew above, keeping his watch. She gave him a jaunty wave as she sent the horse into a slow canter, careful not to go too fast on the loose, snowy ground. The school grounds were very quiet at this time of day; most of the children were still trapped in their lessons, and the teachers who had free time would be safely ensconced in the staff room, drinking tea. She decided that one last quick ride around the edge of the frozen, gunmetal-grey lake would round off her jaunt nicely. As she reached the path that wound alongside the water, she could see a shadow moving on the ice. Saoirse immediately became uneasy as she felt Maeve’s body tense. The horse could sense something strange rising from the frozen water. Maeve watched as what appeared to be a brown-cloaked figure flailed about, pointing a wand at nothing but thin air.
“Who is it?” Maeve asked out loud to the air. The figure turned and she recognised the flecked hair and the haggard face, despite the fact he was quite a way out and moving ever further away from her. She felt fear course through her body and she knew whatever was happening was no ordinary magic.
“Remus!” she called, her voice echoing across the frozen expanse. He didn’t appear to hear her as he continued fighting against his ghostly opponent and she began to panic. She couldn’t fight something she couldn’t see and she didn’t have time to call for her broom. There was only one thing for it, and she didn’t stop to think as she kicked the horse’s sides. Saoirse would normally have obeyed any command Maeve gave her, but this didn’t make sense. For a non-magical being she was fairly intelligent, and she couldn’t fathom why her mistress wanted her to gallop across this thin veneer that covered a deep stretch of water. She dug her hooves into the shingle and her haunches tightened as she fought the impulse to do as she was told.
“I don’t have time for this, Saoirse,” Maeve yelled at her, kicking her again and with some force. Unused to such rough riding, the horse shot forward onto the ice, her hooves clattering against the fragile surface as they fought to gain a footing. Maeve leaned across the animal’s shoulders, and by sheer force of will managed to get her galloping. Chips of ice flew up, glinting in the light, and the temporary surface shuddered beneath them. Remus was getting closer, and now she could see someone else, someone who hadn’t been there before. A black-cloaked figure with a woman’s slender body floated down on a broomstick with evil intent clear on its hard face. Maeve just had time to register that this was a woman who had suffered and caused suffering in her time before she realised that this was the creature Remus had been fighting. She was almost on them now and she was still calling Remus’ name, but he wasn’t acknowledging her and she couldn’t understand why. And where was Roderick? She glanced up quickly and saw him skimming the surface of the lake towards her, his bright cloak splayed out behind him in the wind.
“What are you doing?” he yelled. “You’ll get yourself killed!”
She was so close now that she could see the determination on Remus’ face, and then she realised he wasn’t wearing his robes, her robes. Realisation hit her as she understood the significance of her vanishing fingers the previous day; the robe and its embroidery were damaged. The powerful magic that had flowed into the stitches from her fingers had been dissolved and so too, for a flickering moment, had the fingers that wrought it. He was desperately vulnerable without that powerful protection and she could feel her lungs filling up for the warning scream when the black witch pulled out her wand. In a bitter, refined voice she called out ‘Crucio’ at the same time as she pointed her wand at him. Maeve quickly transferred the reins into one hand and reached for her own wand. As the curse hit Remus, Maeve called out ‘Expelliarmus’ and aimed her wand at the other witch. Nothing happened. No magic came from Maeve’s wand, and Remus did not react to the Cruciatus Curse. Both witches faltered as they realised that they were without their main weapon, but the stranger was the first to recover and she now flung several binding spells at Remus. He was trying to catch her with hexes of his own, but she was lightning-fast and dodged them expertly, twisting and turning on her broom with incredible skill. Finally, the black witch managed to hit him with two binding spells at once and the ropes that had shot our of the end of her wand, instead of flailing uselessly on the ice, slithered round their intended victim, rendering Remus helpless. Maeve tried again with her wand and still nothing happened, so she did the only thing she could to try and break Remus free from the binding spells; she rode at him.
At the same time, the other woman swooped, and with a surprising amount of strength, lifted the stricken wizard on to her broom before quickly rising into the sky. Just as Maeve reached the spot where they had been duelling, they vanished into nothingness, and the air around her crackled with energy. For a shimmering moment she thought she saw the grey frontage of Abbeylara, but the sight was so unexpected and incongruous that she shook the image from her eyes. She tugged at the reins to bring the horse to a slippery, skidding halt and felt her heart was about to implode with loss and fear. Roderick caught up with her, hovering in astonishment in front of her.
“What happened? What are you doing on the ice?” he asked incredulously.
“Remus has been captured,” she said, with panic fluttering in her chest. “Didn’t you see the woman? Didn’t you see the fight?”
“I didn’t see anything because there wasn’t anything. What are you talking about?” He looked down at the surface of the lake with alarm. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get you off the ice before anything happens. Give me your arm.”
She looked at him as if he had gone mad.
“I’ll ride to shore, I can’t leave Saoirse.”
“You can’t ride!” he cried. “The ice will break. Give me your hand.”
“No!” She gripped the reins tighter, as if holding on would somehow rub out the vision she had just seen. “It was his shade,” she said, her eyes fluid with tears. “I’ve seen something like that before. It’s a portent of death.”
Roderick was panicking now, and because he couldn’t understand her ramblings, he ignored them. He could see a few distant figures appear on the edge of the lake. No one would be able to re-freeze the lake if it went, there was too much water, and he wasn’t strong enough to levitate both her and the horse to the side.
“Well if you are going to ride, ride NOW!” he shouted, flying low behind the horse and reaching out a hand to slap its hindquarters. Saoirse couldn’t believe the amount of rough handling she had been subjected to and she kicked out her back leg in protest. They all heard the sudden, ominous crack as the ice shifted beneath her. This galvanised Maeve into action. She turned the animal’s head for the shore and they were off, slipping again on the glassy surface. Blinded by tears and the stinging cold, Maeve had no idea how rapidly the ice was giving way, and she could do nothing more than hold on as her horse fought to make it to the safety of the shore. Vague shouts reached her ears, but she couldn’t make any sense of them. As she grew closer, she could see the blurred outline of Severus and someone who might, or might not be, Dumbledore. It wasn’t far now and Saoirse gave a whinny of alarm as her back legs failed to find solid ground. She plunged backwards into the icy water. The movement was so sudden and so violent that Maeve lost her grip on the horse, and as they tumbled down through the icy depths, she felt the animal move away from her.
This was a strange world, and as she instinctively closed her mouth against the onslaught of the water, she found her eyes opening to take in her surroundings. It was surprisingly clear and the light that filtered in from the breaking ice was fragmented, giving a glowing, blue-green taint to the water. She began to try to swim upwards, but her limbs had become leaden with the cold and she couldn’t move them. As the deadly chill found its insidious way into her head, she began to feel pleasantly numb. This was painless and made her feel sleepy. Her right arm caught on a tangle of weeds, and her aimless floating came to a halt as she settled by the plant that had ensnared her. In the distance she could see the indistinct forms of two creatures drifting towards her, and she recognised the curious faces as two of the merpeople who lived in the lake. They were welcoming her to their home. Helping her never crossed their minds because she had come to them and it was their business to drag her further into their murky world. And she was happy to go; bewitched by the cold and the inability to help herself, she forgot Remus, she forgot her own life, and she didn’t give Hogwarts a second thought as she felt arms slip beneath her shoulders.
And then she was pulled violently upwards and water churned around her face. It felt like being in the centre of a maelstrom as wet, black cloth enfolded her and she could feel herself begin to drown anew. As she broke the surface of the lake, the clear daylight made her wince. The air hit her lungs, making her retch with pain. Strong arms were pulling her to the shore and she was dragged along the shingle before being dropped gently. Coughing the last of the water out of her chest, she lay there as several faces peered at her with concern. The enchantment of the lake was wearing off her as quickly as it had captured her, and her senses returned. Besides Maeve, kneeling on the ground as water dripped from his robes, was Severus, and beside him were several astounded students, who were unable to believe what their eyes had just seen. Their normally controlled and uncaring Potions master had just risked his life to bring Professor O’Malley up from the lake; to say they were speechless was an understatement.
“Professor McGonagall, please take the students back to the castle,” Professor Dumbledore said quietly. “And fetch Madam Pomfrey.”
“No!” Maeve exclaimed as she tried to stand up. The chill was leaving her legs and in its wake came a painful return of feeling. Dumbledore lent her his arm after she ignored his instructions to stay on the ground until Poppy arrived. “I don’t need to go to the hospital wing. I’m fine. Remus has been captured.”
Whatever Dumbledore had been expecting her to say it obviously wasn’t that because he gripped her arm more tightly and asked her to explain.
“I saw a… a vision, an apparition. I don’t know what it was…” She looked back out across the lake as if the explanation could be found there, but the water was now still. The only movement came from the shivering horse, which was being lead away by Hagrid after having found its own way to safety. “I saw Remus being captured by a woman, but it was strange….”
“Are you sure you didn’t…” Dumbledore began, but she broke in angrily.
“No! I did not imagine it. It was happening, it just wasn’t happening here.” A violent shiver tore through her. Dumbledore waved his wand over her and replaced her wet clothes with dry ones and, after doing the same for Severus, led her back up to the castle.
The fire blazed high in Professor Dumbledore’s study and two chairs had been drawn up close to it, their occupants shivering only slightly now as the warming draught, prepared by Madam Pomfrey, worked its magic.
“I shouldn’t be here. I should be helping Remus,” Maeve protested. Severus flinched at the mention of Remus.
“And how do you propose to do that?” he asked. “You have no idea if the,” he hesitated over the word, and when it did come he said it with icy disbelief, “vision was real or just a projection of something that didn’t happen.”
“It was real. I half-recognised the woman. She was haggard and wicked looking, clearly a Death Eater.”
“Old? Young?”
“Oldish, probably a bit older than we are. She had dark hair with grey streaks and really deep-set eyes.”
Severus gave a sharp intake of breath as he recognised the description, and he didn’t fancy Remus Lupin’s chances much if he was in the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. He didn’t tell Maeve this though; he had some sympathy for her. Despite his own feelings about Lupin she was attached to him for some strange reason, and he didn’t want to make this situation any worse. Maeve either didn’t notice his reaction or she chose to ignore it. She was edgy and eager to do something constructive to help find Remus, but she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be allowed to leave. Perhaps she would have to be prepared to leave Hogwarts against Albus’ wishes.
“I hope you’re not thinking of doing anything stupid,” Severus drawled, pushing his chair back from the fire as the heat became oppressive.
“No, of course not.” she said in a very unconvincing tone of voice. “But we have to do something.”
“We?” he snorted. “I hope you don’t think I’m going to risk my neck for a werewolf.”
The door opened and Professor Dumbledore walked slowly in, his head hung low, and he carried with him the air of defeat.
“Your vision was true.” He said the words without looking at either of them as he sank heavily into his familiar chair. “I have just heard from a very distraught Tonks, and it would appear Remus was captured two hours ago in a cowardly attack as he left a pub in Shoreditch. The attack was carried out by an unidentified female Death Eater. There was nothing anyone could have done.”
Maeve bit her lip in agitation and waited for him to continue.
“I have also spoken to Roderick Rampton, the young man who followed you out onto the ice. He has confirmed that there was no one else apart from you out on the lake this afternoon, and he also informed me that he was unable to use magic while you were out there. This is something we already knew because our charms to bring you back safely rebounded on us”
“I have never experienced anything like that before, Professor,” she said. “I have always thought visions were for charlatans and travelling fairs.”
“That’s a little unfair, my dear. Whilst they are uncommon, they are not unheard of. When a sufficient mental and magical connection exists between two people it is sometimes possible for such a projection to be made. Remus must have felt he needed to get in touch with you very badly for this to have happened.”
“Well it didn’t do him much good did it?” Severus said bitterly. “She couldn’t aid a vision.”
Professor Dumbledore found himself wishing once again that his Potions master had the sense to keep quiet sometimes. He possessed a harsh tongue that was merciless in its choice of victims, and he never failed to use it.
“No, Severus, that is true enough. There must have been something in that vision which he felt was significant,” he said turning again to Maeve. “Was there?”
She stretched out her legs in front of the increasing heat and enjoyed the almost painful sensation as the flames flicked their intensity over her bared legs. “I can’t remember anything,” she admitted. “It all happened so quickly that I really didn’t have the chance to register anything unusual. He wasn’t wearing the robes I gave him at Christmas though; I think that was why he was vulnerable.”
“Robes?” Severus raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “You gave him robes?”
“Embroidered with protection,” she continued. “Yesterday I had a small problem with my fingers and I didn’t recognise then what it was, but it was a sign that my magic had been damaged.”
“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” Dumbledore said as Severus gave one of his infamous snorts. “I wonder how they came to be damaged, and why Remus didn’t contact you about it immediately. He knew about the protection?”
“Yes he did. Perhaps he sent a message and it didn’t get through.” Maeve pulled her reddened legs away from the fire and followed Severus in moving her chair away from the heat. Neither of them seemed to be suffering any ill-effects from their unexpected dip in the lake, and Maeve was only too aware she still hadn’t thanked Severus for his unselfish act in diving in to pull her out.
“Possibly,” Dumbledore toyed with a small magical device on his desk, pushing the golden cogs around the glass dome they lived in. “I have to say this, Maeve, because I know you have a very strong connection with Remus. You must not leave Hogwarts to try and find him. There will be Aurors searching for him as we speak and they will do everything they can to bring him back.” He stopped short of saying alive, but, nevertheless, the unspoken word hung in the air between the three of them. “It would be foolish of you to try anything alone, and I cannot extend my protection beyond the bounds of the school.”
Maeve tried to assess just how determined the headmaster was to keep her at the school, and the steely glint in his eyes gave her the impression he was deadly serious indeed. It would be very difficult for her to leave with the Aurors and Severus watching her anyway. The feeling of uselessness was eating away at her as she thought of the possible fate Remus had waiting for him. As they sat there in the safe, comfortable study, watching the fire glow and sipping hot coffee, he was in the hands of the enemy, and who knew what they were doing to him. She gripped the arm of the chair as a fresh wave of despair lapped at her skin as she pictured him with his captors.
“You need to rest,” Dumbledore said to them both. “What you did today, Severus, was very brave and I thank you for it. I am sure Maeve feels the same.
She nodded, and the look she gave Severus contained all the thanks he needed. He would have drowned if it would have saved her life, and he hated himself for it. They both got to their feet, Dumbledore eliciting one last promise from Maeve that she would not do anything stupid before allowing them to leave his office.
They parted and both went to rest in their respective offices, Maeve felt the shadow behind her again, but she saw no flash of red and assumed that Roderick had already changed shifts with Titus Snow. This troubled her a little; she had become very used to the fluttering presence of Roderick and it made her uncomfortable knowing he was not there.
Bella was ecstatic as she dropped down onto the lawn at Abbeylara with the rigid figure of Remus Lupin firmly clamped to her broomstick. It had been an arduous ride across the wild Irish Sea, but the prize she carried was worth the inconvenience caused by the mode of transport. She had used a Silencing Charm on him as they rose above London; the last thing she needed to hear was his whining voice as she concentrated on the long journey. Abbeylara was quiet and she knew that the other Death Eaters would be out on deadlier missions than her own. It had been a waiting game, but when he had finally stepped out of the pub without those dark robes she hadn’t been able to believe her luck. Bella was no fool, and it hadn’t taken her long to recognise the enchanted robes for what they were. It certainly explained their difficulty in bringing them him in. Without them, it had been relatively easy to pick him up. Of course, he had put up a spirited fight, but he had been no match for her on her broomstick. She had had only one moment of anxiety, and that was when she had tried to use the Cruciatus Curse; nothing had happened and this puzzled her. Binding spells were childish magic to a witch with her capacity for cruelty, but in this case they had worked and enabled her to bring him in without too much fuss. The only other thing that had worried her was the vision of a woman as they had swept through the main gates. For just a second she was sure she had seen a red horse galloping towards her with a green-cloaked woman in the saddle. The image had been the briefest flash and she had attributed it to her tiredness after the long ride across the sea.
She dropped her broom and pulled Remus to a standing position before forcing him towards the house. He hobbled along in his bindings, and it made the walk a long one as he kept falling over. Bella merely laughed, kicking at him with a sharp-toed, black shoe to get him to his feet again. She didn’t loosen the ropes, nor did she help him to his feet. It was worth the long walk just to watch him suffer. Once in the house, she directed him towards the library where she knew her Dark Lord was waiting for her, unaware of the gift she was bringing.
“Master,” she said softly as she pushed open the doors and thrust her prisoner in ahead of her. As Remus fell once more to the floor, Voldemort’s back emerged from the large chair by the desk and he turned to see what it was Bella had brought. When he saw the bundle on the floor his red eyes blazed with triumph.
“Excellent!” he called and Bella simpered beneath his exultant gaze. “I knew you would not fail me, Bella. I knew that I could depend on your skill to bring me what I desired.”
He walked across to her, carefully bypassing the bundle on the floor, and for one breathless moment Bella thought he was going to make physical contact. Her body quivered in anticipation. But instead he reached around her and slammed the doors shut before instructing her to close the curtains. He allowed Remus to lie there for a few moments before using his wand to remove the ropes that bound him. Remus was no fool and knew that to make any quick attempts at escape would ensure his death, so he stayed on the floor and waited to see why he hadn’t been killed instantly.
“So, werewolf,” Voldemort began, “I have you in my power at last. How delightful for me and unfortunate for you.”
“What do you want? “Remus mouthed and Voldemort gave him a twisted smile.
“My Bella is such a torment isn’t she,” he hissed as he removed the Silencing Charm. “You were saying?”
“What do you want?” His voice was hoarse, and cracked when he spoke.
“I want it all,” Voldemort said with relish. “I want what is mine, and I will have it, with your help.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Remus said bravely. “You must know I will not help you in any way.”
“But you already are helping me, just by being here.” Voldemort ran long fingers across the top of the chair nearest to him and the action made Remus shudder with revulsion. “Because when the woman knows I have you. she will be unable to resist the urge to come and get you, and then I will have her. If you are very lucky, I will let you watch each other die.”
“What woman?” Remus asked
“What woman? Why, the woman who used to live in this very house. Your erstwhile sister.” Voldemort grimaced as he forced himself to say her name. “Maeve O’Malley, the one that stands between myself and the boy.”
Remus blinked very quickly. He hoped Maeve would have the sense not to come after him, and for once he found himself wishing that Severus Snape would exercise some influence over her. There was no way that Severus would allow her to come chasing after him, no way at all.
“She won’t come because she will not be allowed to leave Hogwarts,” Remus said quietly.
“Oh, she will come,” Bella said suddenly from her position by the windows. “She is a woman and she loves you. She will come.”
Voldemort gave Bella a sharp look and snarled at her to keep quiet, which made Bella shiver with pleasure.
“And how will she know where I am?” Remus asked, although he had the strangest feeling that, as they had come through the gates of this gaunt, grey house, he had seen her face. A face contorted with terror, riding a powerful horse that seemed to be floating above a lake.
“Because we are going to send her your wand and a little note,” Voldemort said calmly. “Perhaps we might also send her a small piece of your flesh, just to convince her we mean business.”
“This is a little melodramatic isn’t it,” Remus said. He had no fear of Voldemort now he was face to face with him. Remus had long since resigned himself to his death, and this was just one more step on that ever-shortening road. “I would have though the great Voldemort could come up with something a little more spectacular then getting a woman to run after a man. This is the stuff of pulp fiction.”
“Crucio!” Voldemort had his wand out before Remus could blink. The curse hit him square in the chest, but Remus remained standing and Bella coughed from her position by the window.
“CRUCIO!” Voldemort screamed angrily as Bella crossed the room and was about to touch him on the shoulder. He spun round quickly and his eyes made her draw back in delicious fear. “WHAT!” he spat.
“The curse will not work on him,” she said. “I tried it and it dispersed into the air.”
“How can it not work?” he turned back to Remus. “Why is it not working, half-breed?”
Remus shrugged as if he didn’t know or care but he couldn’t understand it any more than Voldemort could.
“CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO!” The Dark wizard shouted, each curse louder than the one before it. And still nothing happened.
At least nothing happened outwardly, but Remus could feel something happening deep within him, and he knew it was completely unrelated to the curse that Voldemort was trying to cast on him. More than anything else that had happened today, this was puzzling him, because he could feel the onset of the madness that would turn him from his usual mild-mannered form into a raving, demonic creature, and he would lose control in front of Voldemort. He said nothing to Voldemort of this and watched in a detached manner as Voldemort went from pale snakelike creature to a boiling tower of rage.
“This cannot be!” he shrieked at Bella. “What did you do?”
“I did nothing, Master. Please believe me.” There was a desperate tone to her voice as she grovelled backwards, away from the anger.
“You must have.”
“No, Master. I swear he was like that when I brought him in.” She tripped against a chair and fell backwards into the curtain, dragging it with her as she went down, and the light of the newly-risen full moon fell into the room.
They faced each other angrily and did not see the onset of the transformation, but they heard the first roar of agony. Both turned to watch as thick fur replaced pale skin and limbs began to shorten and take on a new form.
“I thought he was cured of this?” Voldemort asked Bella, who had now staggered to her feet.
“Wolfsbane; he is supposed to take Wolfsbane. This should not be happening.”
“Well it is happening,” Voldemort said tetchily. “And what is more, I am going to have to kill him now.” There was a petulant tone to the Dark wizard’s voice as he busily calculated how this situation could be resolved. “Do you have his wand?”
“Yes.” Bella looked nervously towards the screaming Remus, who was now almost fully transformed. His snout lengthened and the cries were replaced by a spirit-crushing howl.
“Very well then, we will just have to pretend he is still alive. It is enough that they know we have him.”
The werewolf seemed to notice he had company for the first time and with a low growl he sprang straight for Voldemort, who calmly pulled out his wand and pointed it straight at the flying werewolf.
“Avada Kedavra!” he cried, and the werewolf dropped lifelessly to the floor as the green flash hit it.
“He would have died anyway,” Voldemort said almost ruefully, walking across and kicking the dead werewolf with his toe. “Find someone to get rid of the body. Throw it into the woods and let the worms have it.”