Abbeylara
They flew high and fast as the falling night chilled the air around them. Ron flew abreast of Maeve and, finding he didn’t have anything to say to her, faced into the darkness. Mercifully the sky was clear and although that meant it would be colder it also meant there would be no rain lashing at them or clouds to confuse their way. He sat comfortably on his broom, all the recent Quidditch training coming in useful for something other than saving Quaffles. His companion didn’t look too comfortable though. Ron had been amazed to see she rode her broom sideways instead of sitting astride, something that was so old-fashioned he didn’t think anyone knew how to do it any longer.
He still had no idea what had prompted him to offer to accompany her. In normal circumstances he would have taken the option that ensured an easy life and a full stomach. Perhaps it was Bill’s death and the ensuing funeral that had made him experience a subtle shift in attitude towards life. The glowing eulogies and effusive praise for his dead brother had made Ron very aware of his own inadequacies. On the other hand, it could have been Harry and Hermione’s growing secrecy that prompted him to risk his own life in the pursuit of saving another. Whatever it was, Ron felt surprisingly good about himself, despite the multitude of reservations he had regarding the task he had undertaken. As he gripped his broom firmly he felt for the first time that he had the ability to achieve something significant without Harry snapping at his heels, and he was determined to make the most of it.
Once or twice Maeve glanced in his direction but she didn’t speak so Ron happily relaxed and enjoyed the exhilaration as the wind rushed past them. The feeling of freedom and of being very much alive was intense as the black hills rolled beneath them. It wasn’t until he had his first glimpse of the glittering, dark sea that Ron had his first real feelings of misgiving. He had no idea how long it would take them to cross this vast expanse of water that separated Scotland from Ireland. To make matters worse he had no idea where his next meal was coming from. He had a few Chocolate Frogs in his pockets, but he had already resolved to use them as emergency rations only.
He could taste the salty tang of the seawater as they cleared the shoreline. They soared above the velvet cliffs that formed the seam between the sea and the land. Maeve dropped slightly so that she skimmed the mirrored surface of the water and Ron followed suit. Had he been making this trip with Harry they would have laughed and joked their way across the Irish Sea but as he looked at Maeve’s tense face he wasn’t sure she was in the mood for silly jokes.
“How long will it take?” he ventured to ask, once they were clear of the land completely.
“Not long,” she replied. Her voice was warm and comforting against the icy, unwelcome feel of the night. “We should sight land within the hour.”
“Really?” Ron asked, brightening up considerably. He had expected it to take much longer than that. “And how long before we reach Abbeylara?”
“Another hour, maybe more depending on what we meet on the way.” She looked at him with interest. Ron had never been anything other than Harry’s friend and chief sidekick. He didn’t seem to posses the naked ambition of his brother Percy, the easy confidence of Charlie or the cheeky ingenuity of the twins, Fred and George. He had been so long in Harry’s shadow that she felt perhaps his personality had been somewhat eclipsed.
“You do know the risks we are taking,” she said gently, competing with the soft swell of the water to make herself heard. The wind was circling them and the chill rising from the sea began to make itself felt through their robes.
“Yes,” Ron said. “Being friends with Harry has brought a bit of trouble my way, it hasn’t always been easy.”
“But you are still firm friends,” she observed. “That’s quite something given what you have both been through.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll always be mates. Dunno why.” He shrugged and his broom wobbled slightly.
“That’s good, Ron,” she said. “Friends are important, friends who are prepared to stick with you no matter what happens are more important still.”
“Do you have friends?” he asked and if he had not been flying he would have kicked himself. Of course she had friends and one of them was in the clutches of You-Know-Who.
“Yes, I have friends. Probably not as many as you, but I have friends.” She smiled as she allowed herself to think briefly of the friends she had, both old and new. “I’d like to think that you and Harry count amongst my friends.”
“‘Course we do,” Ron said. He had always liked her but had never felt the closeness Harry felt with her or the admiration Hermione had for her skills as a witch. He wondered if this escapade would change that.
They passed a few boats and ferries on their journey and they rose swiftly to hide, beneath a cloak of darkness, from the Muggle vessels. The last thing they needed were reports of strange sightings getting back to the Muggle newspapers. There were enough strange happenings in the Muggle world at the moment without their actions adding to the problems.
Maeve had been slightly out with her prediction of an hour. She hadn’t taken into account her sloppy riding skills and the fact she was a little bit unfit. It took a lot of strength and balance to ride a broomstick for long periods of time and she had neither in any great measure. It was two hours since they had left the safety of Hogwarts and they finally caught a glimpse of the brooding cliffs of the Antrim coast just before midnight. Maeve knew that the easy part of the trip was over and she must now keep her wits about her in order to get to Abbeylara without being seen be either Muggles or Death-Eaters.
They skirted the coast a little way until Maeve finally decided they needed a brief rest. She waited until the familiar sight of Fair Head came into view. Jutting six hundred feet above sea level, the sharp cliff was instantly recognisable to anyone familiar with this coast and it provided an excellent vantage point from which to survey the surrounding landscape. They dropped gently onto its grassy top and Ron quickly jumped off his broomstick, rubbing his backside to try and restore some feeling.
“Why do you think I ride sideways?” Maeve said with a small laugh. “It’s a lot less painful for the poor posterior, even with a Cushioning Charm.”
Ron managed a grin before looking out across the sea. Had it been daylight he would have been able to see the distant Scottish mainland, but in the darkness all he could see was the hand in front of his face and the grass at his feet. Moonlight gave an outline to their surroundings but Ron knew he wasn’t going to stray too far from the spot he was standing on; somewhere out there was a sheer drop into the sea and he didn’t feel like accidentally finding it.
“We’ll take a ten minute break and then crack on,” she said. “Abbeylara is a little further up the coast but it shouldn’t take us too long now.”
“Have you thought about what we will do when we get there?” Ron asked.
“Not really,” she admitted. Her plan had always been to just get there in one piece and then see how things worked out. She could just imagine Severus’ disapproving face at this careless course of action and she dreaded to think what he would do in the morning when he found out what she had done. “I think I know where Remus is though, so at least that’s a start.”
“How are we going to get him away without bumping into You-Know-Who?” Ron said fearfully. “It can’t be that big a place.”
“It’s fairly large, or at least the grounds are. You'd need to be Finn McCool to cover it all. If I’m right and Remus is in the woods then it is quite possible we will just be able to get in and out without anyone knowing we have been there.” She tried to look convincing for Ron’s sake but she knew it wouldn’t be that simple, nothing ever was.
“And what? We just fly in and fly out again with Remus,” Ron asked.
“That’s the general idea.”
They stood in silence for a few minutes and Ron had to fight the temptation to dig out one of his Chocolate Frogs. His stomach rumbled slightly and he wished he had taken second helpings at dinner. Maeve stiffened as she sensed something in the wind; it was a feeling rather than something physical, something was disturbing the air around them. It was the same effect she had experienced in her room earlier and once again light formed before her eyes and began to take shape.
Remus was lying on the ground now, curled up in a foetal position as if warding off the cold. The most important thing for Maeve was that he was still in the same place; the cold grey stones of the dolmen were behind him and the bare trees surrounded him. Her heart swooped and fell as the image disappeared again. Ron was transfixed by her sudden stillness and although he couldn’t see what she had seen he could feel the electricity in the air and was aware something had changed.
“We have to go,” she said with determination. “It’s getting cold and if he is in the woods at night he’s not safe. It isn’t just Death-Eaters that patrol those grounds after dark. An injured wizard would make a good meal for something prowling in the night.”
“Okay,” Ron said with a disgusted look on his face at the image she had just conjured up for him. He didn’t ask her what she had seen; it was enough for him to know that it was imperative they move on. Once again though she tensed and this time it was because she had seen something rather more earthly than her recent vision.
“Get down,” she said, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him down flat on the cold and prickly grass.
“Ow!” he yelled as he caught his arm on a gorse bush and Maeve had to hush him. “What are we doing?” he hissed at her under his breath.
“There is someone flying in our direction,” she whispered. “Keep quiet and we might be lucky. They may not have seen us.”
But the stranger had seen them and was flying directly at Fairhead with the obvious intention of landing. Maeve’s hand travelled to her wand and she was about to pull it out of her robes when she recognised the dull colour of the swirling robes that surrounded the new arrival. She couldn’t believe it at first but as the figure drew closer and she could make out some of his features she stood up, certain that this was not an enemy.
“What are you doing?” Ron squeaked. “Have you gone mad?”
“It’s all right,” she said, holding out a hand to help him to his feet. “I know who that is.”
“Well, Roderick,” she said as she strode across the uneven ground to meet the Auror. “You caught me.”
He landed with a gentle thud and quickly stepped off his broomstick, laying it next to hers on the ground. He gave her a look that suggested he could have throttled her and when he spoke it was with frustration.
“I told you not to do anything silly,” he said crossly. “One of the last things I said to you was don’t do anything silly, so perhaps you could explain why you are standing on top of a cliff on the Irish coast with…who is that anyway?” he asked, craning his neck to get a better view of Ron who was still trying to make himself invisible. “Oh for Merlin’s sake!”
If Roderick had looked irritated before now he just looked angry.
“That’s a student, isn’t it?” he asked incredulously.
“Ron Weasley,” said Ron, feeling a little emboldened now he had recognised the man from school.
“I can’t believe you could be so thoughtless as to bring a student along with you on this madcap mission,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You sound just like Severus,” she replied defiantly. “Ron wanted to come… he and Harry left me no choice.”
“Please tell me you haven’t got Harry Potter with you as well.” Roderick looked panicked for a moment as he glanced round, half expecting Harry’s tousled head to appear out of the darkness.
“No, of course not. Do you think I am that stupid?” she snapped. “That’s why Ron is here.”
“I don’t want to know,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have had to fly like the wind to catch up with you and I am exhausted. Now, what we do is turn around and fly home because there is no way I can allow you to go on with this jolly jaunt.”
“You can’t make me turn around, Roderick,” she said. “I’m not going back now. It will take me an hour to get to Abbeylara and I know exactly where Remus is.”
“Oh, tell me you haven’t been having visions again…Maeve, you have no idea if they are real or not.”
“Visions?” Ron said, looking at Maeve with renewed interest. “Proper visions.”
“I do know they are real,” she insisted. “We know that Remus was taken from outside that pub by a female Death-Eater and that’s exactly what I saw.”
“Wow,” Ron said, impressed.
Roderick, however, was not impressed. “You saw Remus being captured. Perhaps it was some vague sixth sense. It still doesn’t mean we should be standing on a cliff top in the dead of a February night chasing after wild geese.”
She watched his firm face and for the first time saw him as something other than a mildly amusing, upper class party animal. When they had had the conversation over lunch the other day and he had intimated he would not like active duty she had thought he was doing the job of an Auror for the glory. But now, as he stared down at her full of concern and common sense she couldn’t help think she had misjudged him slightly. Not that her change of opinion would sway her from her current course.
“Take Ron back,” she said, as if by offering up Ron she would clear the way for herself.
“No,” he insisted. “We will all be going back.”
“No, we won’t.” She was adamant that she would be continuing towards her former home and the back and forth bickering could have gone on for some time had not fate intervened in the form of a Harpy.
The filthy creature rose up from beneath the cliff and beat furious wings in the black air as she dived towards the trio. Ron seemed to attract her attention first, perhaps because it sensed his immaturity and therefore would be the easiest to pick off. His eyes grew wide with fear as the powerful claws reached for him and he flung himself to one side as Roderick withdrew his wand and ran towards their reeking attacker.
“NO!” Maeve yelled as she drew her own wand. “It’s a Harpy. Anything you use will rebound.”
Roderick paused mid-spell as the creature turned beady, sunken eyes on to him, its earlier prey forgotten as it caught sight of the wand. It cackled, clawing at the air around Roderick, causing him to duck beneath the onslaught of the metal talons that were attached to the end of its withered and shrunken legs.
“What can I use?” he asked, gasping with pain as one of the claws connected with the back of his head.
“We need an instrument,” Maeve shouted back and the Harpy turned to look at her, perhaps sensing an opponent worthy of its attention. “A brass one,” she added quickly.
“Any particular one?” Roderick asked, tumbling to the ground and almost hitting Ron in the process.
“No…anything…can you play one?” Maeve asked as she moved behind a gorse bush to try and deflect the sudden, unwelcome attention of the dark, airborne mass.
“Of course not!” Roderick shouted back, as if the suggestion he could play any musical instrument was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
“Neither can I,” she shouted back desperately and with glaring understatement added, “This is starting to look bad.”
The Harpy shrieked and whirled above the three of them. It understood now that they were defenceless and so it could afford to enjoy choosing which one it would take back with it to the land of the dead.
“I can,” Ron said quietly into Roderick’s ear. “I learned to play the trumpet at home. I wasn’t very good but I can play a tune.”
Roderick looked at the boy with newfound respect and with a flick of his wrist he produced a shining, yellow trumpet from the ether. Ron grabbed it hurriedly, but not before the Harpy had seen the glint of the brass. It only had one option now or it would go back to its dark home empty handed. It streaked towards Ron who stood up and attempted to place the instrument to his lips. It extended its wings fully and began to back Ron rapidly towards the cliff edge.
“Play it, Ron!” Maeve shouted, rushing towards him with her wand still in her hand. “Anything…just make a note.”
He raised it to his lips and his courage faltered as the face of the Harpy came within a foot of his own. The smell was truly wretched and he felt bile rise in his throat as the bitter scent of death and decay filtered through his nasal membranes. He fought valiantly against the urge to be sick and, pressing dry lips to the mouthpiece, he drew breath and stepped back into nothingness. He paused for a moment in shock as he realised he was standing on thin air rather than solid ground. The Harpy gave a shrill laugh of triumph and prepared to grasp her victim when, from behind it, Maeve pointed her wand at Ron.
“Wingardium Leviosa,” she called and Ron’s descent was stopped before it had properly begun. It took a great deal of strength to keep him floating and even more to bring back towards her and the safety of the land. The Harpy still stood in the way and showed no signs of moving.
“Play the trumpet,” Roderick urged from his position on the ground, and this time Ron licked his lips and found his second wind.
The sweet, unsteady sound of “Rule Britannia” floated out across the night and the Harpy ceased to beat its wings in anger and began to scream loudly. The sound made Roderick cover his ears but Maeve continued to hold Ron aloft while he played on and as the Harpy rose into the air with a sickening wail it brushed Ron’s robes. For a moment the sound ceased as a chill ran through the young man’s body and the effect was broken briefly. The Harpy regrouped and Roderick urged Ron to continue with the song. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the Harpy rose into the blackness and with one final screech of horror vanished into the night in search of easier prey.
Ron fell limply to the ground and the trumpet rolled away onto the grass where it rested for a moment before vanishing into the air, as the Harpy had done before it. Maeve dropped to her knees, exhausted from keeping the spell going for so long and it was Roderick who walked across to her to check she was all right.
“I’m fine,” she said, gulping the air greedily now that the Harpy was no longer poisoning it with her stench. “Make sure Ron is okay.”
Ron was already struggling to his feet with a look of disgust on his face.
“I stink!” he moaned and as he moved there could be no mistaking the smell of the Harpy lingering on his clothes.
“She touched you,” Maeve said. “You’ll smell for days, I’m afraid. Whatever they touch they turn foul.”
“Oh, well, that’s just bloody brilliant,” Ron said indignantly. “I save you both from a hideous monster and all I get for my pains is the smell from hell.”
Roderick helped Maeve to her feet as she looked at Ron with gratitude.
“That’s exactly what it is,” she said. “The Harpies live in the Land of the Dead… Hell… Hades or whatever you want to call it. They are filled with the despair and the destitution of the unwilling dead and they come to collect more victims, victims who are not ready to die. They carry them away into shadow and what torments they inflict upon them can only be guessed at.”
She glanced out at the night sky as if seeing countless other demons out there.
“We have to move. It is too exposed here and we need to get inland.”
“We need to go home,” Roderick said, but she shook her head.
“Ron and I are going inland and we are going to find Remus. You can do what you want.”
“Maeve, please listen to reason. Professor Dumbledore sent me to bring you back and I must obey his wishes.”
“Dumbledore knows?” Maeve asked in a quiet voice.
“Of course Dumbledore knows. And by now half the Ministry probably knows. Which makes your trip all the more dangerous because of the work of spies.” He put on his best persuasive face but Maeve merely picked up her broomstick and mounted it.
“Ron, go back with Roderick. It is too dangerous for you now but I have to go on.” She floated into the air and turned her broom towards the land that sat huddled behind them.
“Fat chance!” Ron said, grabbing his broom quickly and rising to join her. “This could get interesting.”
Roderick watched them for a few moments before cursing himself, Maeve, and the gods who had conspired to put him in this situation.
“I am in no way condoning what you are about to do but I feel duty bound to accompany you. If only for your own safety and to protect you from yourselves,” he said in a pompous manner that was more reminiscent of Percy Weasley than the Auror she thought she knew.
“Excellent,” Maeve said, as he joined them in the air. With a flick of her broom’s tail she rose high into the sky and the others followed her lead.
They flew unhindered for a good hour and passed over slumbering mountains, deep-set valleys, mysterious glens and beaches carved up by inlets of water. Ron half wished the circumstances were different and he could enjoy this magnificent ride in daylight, with the sun on his back and a good meal waiting for him at some comfortable destination. As it was he found himself torn between shivering in the cold and suppressing the urge to vomit because of the smell from his robes. He had suggested getting rid of them but Maeve had immediately stopped him taking them off, telling him sternly that being sick was far preferable to suffering from hypothermia.
As they crossed the mouth of a huge river she slowed down slightly and addressed Roderick.
“Abbeylara is just over that swathe of trees,” she said, pointing to a large, dark belt of forest in the distance. “There is a road that cuts between the forest and on the far side is the beginning of the estate. We will need to land before we reach the road or we may be spotted from the house. Once on the ground there will be little chance of discovery unless they have extensive ground patrols.”
“Which they may well have,” Roderick said darkly.
“I know the land well. It is not difficult to evade detection,” she insisted.
“I wish I shared your conviction,” Roderick replied. He glanced at the shivering Ron and was beginning to suspect the boy had caught a cold, which would be inconvenient to say the least.
They dropped down through the quiet landscape and finally landed on the roadside with nervous glances around them to ensure any Muggles, out on late night wanderings, wouldn’t see them. Maeve insisted that this was a rare event and they had little to fear from prying Muggle eyes but Roderick’s Auror training was uppermost in his mind and if they were seen by a Muggle it would be a failing on his part. Crossing the empty carriageway they made it safely into the woods on the other side. It was warmer beneath the empty branches of the towering trees and Ron’s shivering gradually subsided as they moved silently along the perimeter of the forest.
Maeve was beginning to feel frightened of what she might discover in the clearing they were heading for. It was not fear for herself, but a fear for the fate of the man who she would always look upon as a brother. She had closed her mind to doubts up until this moment but now they picked their way through the cracks in her consciousness and began to worry her. Roderick was moving quietly at her side and Ron brought up the rear, unaware of her sudden crisis of confidence. The undergrowth crackled beneath their feet no matter how softly they tried to place their feet down and although Maeve knew they were a good distance from the house Roderick did not and he grimaced each time a twig snapped. Only the faintest glimmer of moonlight penetrated through the dense branches above them and they were walking blind towards their destination. Roderick and Ron both had serious doubts that they were heading the right way and they trudged along beside Maeve with doubt clouding their already impaired vision.
“How far is it?” Ron asked in an undertone. His feet were already beginning to throb from walking on such rough terrain and he could feel a stone working its way down the back of his left shoe.
“A few minutes,” she breathed back. She didn’t speak again and her heart began to ache once more as she saw the first signs that the trees were beginning to thin out. Roderick drew his wand and Ron bravely did the same but Maeve was not even thinking about having to defend herself. All she was thinking about was the scene which could be waiting for her and throughout this trip she had refused to accept that Remus might be dead but now she was about to face the truth she wavered.
Ron bumped into her as she stopped dead and he cursed mildly as the stone in his shoe finally ground into his flesh.
“What is it?” Roderick asked, his sense instantly alert for any danger she may have perceived.
“I don’t think I can face it,” she said softly, as bats swooped through the air, criss-crossing in front of them on paper-thin wings with sharp ears alert for prey.
“Now is not the time to have doubts,” Roderick said evenly. “You have brought us here and if you turn around now I may possibly have to kill you.”
She knew he was joking but all the same she couldn’t help wondering if death would be preferable to what she was about to find out. She glanced at Ron’s shadowy face and he grinned his encouragement. For all his apparent gormlessness she was beginning to see him in a new light after the incident with the Harpy.
“We have to find out,” he said quietly. “It’s what we came for and I can’t go back and tell Harry we failed.”
The mention of Harry restored her resolve; he wouldn’t have hesitated because knowing would have been far preferable to not knowing. She turned into the clearing and the huge grey dolmen rose up in front of her like a hibernating monster waiting to be woken from its sleep. Moving past the cold stone she held her breath as she beheld the crumpled figure on the floor at its base. Swooping down she touched the icy skin of Remus Lupin and her fingers urgently probed at his neck to try and find a sign of life.
The sob escaped before she had the chance to check it and Roderick immediately fell to her side, placing a comforting hand around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Maeve,” he said quietly as Ron looked away, unable to bear more scenes of grieving.
“No,” she said, looking at Roderick with shining eyes. “He’s not dead, there’s a pulse.”
Roderick immediately reached down and moved her fingers, holding his own in their place and counting the slow but steady beats of the sleeping wizard.
“Well I never,” he said, allowing his breath to escape in a long, low whistle. “We need to get him out of here now. If we go back the way we came we should make it.” Hope galvanised them into action.
“I need to bring him round. He’s freezing,” Maeve said, her overriding wish now was to hear Remus’ soft voice telling her everything was going to be fine.
“No, let him be. That way he won’t be groaning all over the place. He’s clearly injured and sick.” Roderick looked at the tear in Remus’s robes, which crossed his heart like a ragged scar. “I can carry him free of the forest and then he can ride on my broom… somehow.”
He hauled Remus up and Ron immediately went to support one side of his former teacher while Roderick supported the other as they began to move away from the clearing. They did their best to clear their tracks and Maeve pulled some branches across the flattened grass where Remus had been lying. She took the lead again, carrying their brooms and trying to walk slowly so they could keep up with her. She kept glancing back at the trio behind her and the lolling of Remus’ head seemed to her one of the saddest sights she had ever seen.
As they began their difficult journey back to the edge of the forest something moved in the clearing behind them and a flare of light could be seen in the gloom. They froze as voices could be heard coming clearly from the area they had just vacated.
“Get into the trees,” Roderick said to her in a whisper, handing Remus’ slumped figure entirely to Ron, who buckled slightly under the weight before regaining his momentum. “Lie low for a bit until you feel it is safe and then wake him up, get on your brooms and fly out of here. Don’t try to do it undercover, just go.”
“But…what are you…” she began, but he put his finger to his lips.
“Just trust me. I will deal with this, but if you don’t do exactly as I say you will not get out of here alive.”
He didn’t give her the opportunity to answer as he made his way hurriedly back the way they had come, cursing loudly in a cheerful voice.
“Damn, bloody branches!” she heard him exclaim as he reached the source of the light. “The things a fellow has to do to get into these places… Bella, my darling, how nice to see you here. What have I done to deserve such a reception committee?”
She didn’t hear any more as she helped Ron to get Remus hidden as quietly as they could. The ground was freezing as they crouched low and she felt her heart would burst through her chest with anxiety. Ron was pale-faced in the darkness. He knew exactly who Bella was and he had no wish to meet her again. As the forest froze around them the light from the clearing dimmed and the mumble of voices grew fainter. Ron’s terrified eyes locked with hers above Remus’ still body and he clearly expected her to do something.
“What…” he started to say but she shook her head vigorously and gestured for him to be quiet.
Throughout all this she had thought she could manage alone and had brought the other two with her only under duress. How utterly, utterly stupid she had been. Mentally cursing herself over and over she tried to take stock of their situation and she knew she had to make a move soon. She was too fazed to really think about the implications of Roderick knowing the woman in the clearing or of his blithely walking away towards the house and its inhabitants. What was of foremost importance now was getting Remus and Ron to safety and after her earlier performances she wasn’t sure it could be managed.
They sat in silence for a further ten minutes until Maeve was reasonably sure that they were no more Death-Eaters lurking in the bushes.
“I need to wake Remus but he may be groggy so we will need to help him to his feet,” she said to Ron who stood up immediately. “We need to get out as quickly as possible so be ready to fly.”
“How are we going to get clear of the trees?” he asked as he peered doubtfully up towards the web of branches between them and the sky.
“We’ll have to go back to the clearing,” she said after thinking about it for a moment. Anything else would have risked the use of too much magic and she didn’t want to draw attention to them until they were airborne and flying away from the place.
“But what if there is someone still there?” Ron asked fearfully.
“There won’t be or Roderick would have come back.”
“Do you trust him?”
“I have no choice,” she said as she withdrew her wand and pointed it at the unconscious Remus.
“Salvolatile,” she whispered to him and watched as, slowly, the reviving charm began to work.
His eyelids fluttered slightly and a low groan escaped his mouth as he returned to consciousness. In the darkness Maeve couldn’t make out his expression but she could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke.
“What’s happening?” he asked groggily.
“It’s Maeve,” she said, bending close to him so she could keep her voice as low as possible. “We are in the forest at Abbeylara and we have to leave now. We are in great danger, Remus.”
“What happened?” he said, his voice hoarse from lack of use. “What are you doing here?” he began to struggle to sit up and Maeve helped him as best she could.
“It’s a long story and we don’t have time for it now. Ron’s here too,” she said, moving slightly so he could see the worried face loitering in the background.
“Ron Weasley?” he asked, and the shock of discovering a student in such a peculiar place seemed to rally him even further.
“Don’t ask,” Ron said in the most cheerful voice he could manage. “But it’s been an unusual night.”
Remus clutched at his head, sudden spasms of pain crossing his temples.
“Can you manage a broom?” Maeve asked, resisting the urge to take him in her arms and cry.
“I think so,” he said as the pain faded. “I’m a bit cold though. It’s bloody freezing.”
“I know,” she said, an almost hysterical laugh bubbling in her throat. Slipping her cloak from her shoulders she hurriedly wrapped it around him and although he protested she insisted he keep it on. She helped him to his feet and explained the need for silence and their mode of escape. Maeve hoped he was taking it in because he still seemed a little vacant, but he grabbed Roderick’s broom and followed her towards the clearing with only a slight stagger in his gait.
The area was now empty and there was no sign that anyone had ever been there. They assembled in the middle and prepared to leave. Ron, in an attempt to be the first in the air, staggered against the stones and dropped his broom. Maeve shushed him and told him to be more careful so Ron carefully bent down to pick up the broom. As he did so his hand closed around something small and square and without thinking he slipped the unknown object into his pocket for later examination. Once they were ready, with Remus firmly placed in the middle where he could be kept an eye on him, they gritted their teeth and rose rapidly into the sky. Maeve didn’t even look behind her as she headed away from the estate. If there was something snapping at their heels they would deal with it when, and if, it caught them.
After ten minutes of rapid flying Ron finally dared look around and he was relieved to see an empty night sky with nothing but the occasional owl fluttering into view.
“There’s nothing there,” he said, his voice dripping with relief.
Maeve looked back then and allowed herself a grim smile as she too saw a clear sky. She wouldn’t dare to believe it until they were well clear of Abbeylara and she couldn’t relax until they were safe within the walls of Hogwarts again. She glanced at Remus and had to admit she was worried. He was doggedly gripping the unfamiliar broom but his flying was erratic and he dipped occasionally. She started to face up to the fact they might not make it back across the sea tonight and if this were the case she had to find them shelter while Remus regained a little of his strength.
“Can you hold on a bit longer?” she asked him, flying so close to his broom that they were almost touching.
“Yes,” he said and the sudden break in concentration caused him to rock dangerously. She let go of her broom with one hand to steady him and he raised a small smile for her. His eyes looked dead and his skin looked awful in the unkind moonlight. Her robes clung to his thin shoulders and she prayed he would make it just a little bit further.
The miles passed more slowly than any of them would have liked and it was only when they reached the mountains near the coast that she slowed their pace down and began to survey the hills for a likely shelter. She finally found it on the upper slopes of one of the larger mountains that dotted this part of the country. They swept down the mountainside and landed a little way from the grey cottage, Maeve made them hide in the bushes as she cautiously approached the building. A quick look around confirmed her suspicions that this was a holiday home and was, for the moment, uninhabited. A small wooden sign on the gate announced this as Carrowdore Cottage, and had circumstances been different Maeve might have stopped to admire it. As it was, she quickly performed a Muggle repelling charm on the exterior and went to fetch Ron and Remus.
Unlocking the front door using the Alomohora charm, she pushed it open and they stepped gratefully into the shelter of the hallway. Ron closed the door behind him and immediately went to forage around in the kitchen for any food that might be lying around. Remus dropped the broom by the door and staggered into the lounge, collapsing on the sofa with Maeve’s robes clutched to him in an attempt to get warm. She pointed her wand at the fire and in moments flames were flickering up as the turf caught fire. She wondered if this fire could be connected to the Floo network, it would certainly mean getting to safety would be made a lot easier. Although on second thoughts she wasn’t so sure. The Irish Floo network was notoriously unreliable and haphazard with poorly maintained grates and numerous misdirections. Perhaps getting home under their own steam would be the best option after all.
Ron came back in clutching a few tins of beans and a tin opener.
“Can we eat now?” he asked eagerly.
“No, we need to sleep. We can eat those in the morning when we will need their energy the most,” she said. “Isn’t there anything else?”
Ron shook his head and reached into his pocket for a Chocolate Frog, as he pulled it out the small object he had picked up in the clearing fell to the ground and Maeve spotted it immediately.
“Where did you get that?” she asked as he picked it up.
“It’s Drooble’s Best,” Ron said in a pleased voice. “You don’t see that much… I found it in the forest just before we left, it was on the floor.”
“Why is this gum following me around?” she asked, taking it from him and putting it in the pocket of her robes.
“What?” Ron asked.
“It doesn’t matter. Why don’t you run upstairs and grab some blankets and we can all sleep in this room,” she suggested and Ron sprinted off to get the items, chewing on a Chocolate Frog as he went.
Ron took the sole armchair and, snuggling down beneath a thick quilt, he was asleep in no time. Maeve chose to sit on the floor by the sofa, close to Remus’ head. She wrapped herself in one of the blankets after tucking several more blankets round Remus’ body. He seemed to be warming up as the heat from the fire penetrated his coverings.
As the flames danced before her she tried to resist the sleep that would surely come, she wanted to stay awake and keep watch. But within the half hour she had nodded off, her head resting on the sofa by Remus’ hand. She needn’t have worried about discovery, nestled as they were in the remote cottage, because no one would have thought to look for them there. As it was, thanks to the quick thinking and family connections of Roderick Rampton, no one this side of the Irish Sea even knew they were in the country.
And so they slept well, unaware of their distressed friends and loved ones back home and unworried about the final leg of their journey in the morning.