35: Rock and a Hard Place
The door to Rebekah’s office had been left ajar. Luck, it seemed, was on their side.
“Where did you last see it?” Tonks was the first to cross the threshold, wand extended before her as she silently cast out magical feelers to check for hidden booby traps.
“It was on the desk.” Rebekah’s face was pale and drawn as she entered what was technically her room with eyes lit up by nervousness. “But I doubt it’ll still be anywhere that obvious.”
“We should be so lucky.” Lingering in the doorway, Harry flung his invisibility cloak over his shoulders once more, leaving his head floating bizarrely in the shadowy air. “I’ll keep watch out here.”
“Thank you, Harry.” Remus nodded to his student as he turned and began to rifle his way through the papers on top of Rebekah’s desk. He had not wanted the young man to come “ indeed he had argued against it almost intensely as hurried plans had been thrown together mere minutes before. But Harry had proved stubbornly beyond persuading and Remus and Tonks had not been able to spare the time it would take to argue with him.
Hermione and Ron had at least proved easier to persuade out of joining them “ though, admittedly, that was not much of a statement given Harry’s near belligerence on the subject “ as they had been needed to act as decoys. Both of Harry’s friends, their hair and robes transfigured, had agreed to remain huddled beside the carefully disillusioned hole that had been hurriedly cut in the wall, pretending to be Rebekah and Remus for the benefit of any Death Eaters who might tune in to their magical feed to watch the sport before the retrieval party had time to return. The entrance to the escape tunnel was a mere ten yards down the corridor from the hastily created exit and since they were certain that the staff could be rushed down and out into the tunnel before any watching Death Eaters would have time to act, it seemed logical not to tip their hand too early. And at least with Hermione and Ron in attendance, they would have some manner of magical protection.
As now, thank Merlin, did he.
His fingers squeezed almost possessively around the smooth reassuring wood of his newly regained wand. The relief he had felt as Harry, smiling slightly, had held it out to him was almost indescribable; he had been so caught up in the feeling that he had almost missed the young man’s quiet explanation of how he had retrieved it from Hagrid. The last few hours, as he had felt the wolf rise within him, knowing that imminent teeth and claws were likely to be his only defence against the darkness brewing around him, had been terrible. But now, he had magic again. He had another way, the other way that Albus Dumbledore had worked so hard to offer him all those years before. This was who he was. This was the part of him that mattered.
The magical part. The human part.
And his wand was not his only reminder.
He glanced at Tonks, hair still oddly lank but dark eyes intense as she yanked open a wooden box that was standing on a bookshelf. There was so much between them still unsaid, so much that needed to be said, if only the time could be found. But that time was not now and they knew it, both knew it, mutual agreement spoken in a single glance as they had climbed stealthily up the stairs to Level Five.
We need to talk, her eyes had said. But now is not the time.
He had nodded his agreement once. And then they had moved on.
But somehow, it was enough, knowing they were going to talk, that she was here with him. In his heart, he clung to that humanity.
The wand was not on the desk. And he was wasting precious time.
“I’m going to go.” His voice sounded oddly hollow in the small office. Tonks’ head snapped up instantly but he pointedly avoided her gaze, turning instead towards Rebekah. “This ladder is in the reception, correct?”
Rebekah nodded briskly as she resumed her search of the desk drawers. “Under the chair in the far corner. Tap your wand three times against the knot on the back leg and say Anthony. That’s the password.”
“And it goes straight down to near the tunnel entrance?”
Rebekah’s eyes never left her search. “It’s for mass evacuations, like I said. It’d be a bit silly not to have quick way to get to it from the staff level. The bottom’s wand sealed though so…”
“Don’t wait for me.” Remus’ quiet voice was nonetheless ripe with command. “If you feel so inclined, leave it open, but don’t take any risks.”
“Look who’s talking.” Abandoning her search, Tonks swivelled on her heel. “Well, if we’re going we’d better get…”
“We? ” It was as though an icy hand had closed around his heart. Oh, no, what is she doing, we’ve been through this already…“Tonks, I’ve already said I’m going alone. You’re not coming.”
“Bloody am.” The Auror’s words were brusque and frankly dismissive. “Zelia said it’s a big lab and two hands are better than one.”
Remus fought manfully not to glare at her. “Which is why you need to stay here,” he managed, his tone impressively reasonable considering the well of unreasonableness that was churning against the outer corners of his brain. “Finding the wand is far more important that finding me Wolfsbane.”
“Rebekah can manage.”
Reason was fraying at the edges. “And if she can’t? What becomes of all of those innocent people when the building locks down and…”
“Actually,” Rebekah’s voice cut softly, almost gently into the brewing argument. “I’ve just found it.”
There was a pause. Slowly, Remus turned his head to where his cousin was standing almost diffidently as she hefted a bundle of perhaps twenty wands bound together with string. One twitched between her fingers.
“This one’s mine,” she stated with a slightest hint of a smile. “And here’s everybody elses.”
Remus couldn’t help but feel that the vaguely triumphant expression that flashed over Tonks’ features was highly unfair. “See?” she said with a smile that verged on smirkdom. “No more excuses.”
It was no good. Reason had fled and calmness along with it. “No more excuses?” Tonks’ smile melted instantly as the voice of Remus’ glare burned into her, his low, dangerous tone a vivid accompaniment. “Well, how about this? What if there is no Wolfsbane left in Zelia’s lab?” His voice rose in pitch and volume, swelling with the weight of sudden fear. “And what if the room locks down and we’re trapped in there together as I change? What if I tear you limb from limb, what then?”
Tonks’ eyes flared with a sudden rage of her own although her voice, when it came, was soft and ironclad. “And what if you change in a corridor?” she retorted, her words shaking with suppressed emotion. “What if you get onto the stairs and start tearing Death Eaters limb from limb? I know you, Remus “ any death while transformed, even one of them, would be abhorrent to you. And do you think they would just let you run around loose, taking them out one by one? No. They would kill you or worse, they’d cage you and Kiss you along with everyone else come the morning. And that’s why I’m coming.” Her eyes met his, intense and filled with a powerful mixture of desperate fear and grim determination. “Because you need protecting. And if you have to die to protect who you are, then I’d rather it was me who did it than anyone else in the world.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “And I think that you would too.”
Remus couldn’t speak. There were no words that could adequately express the mixture of fear, horror, gratitude and relief that was coursing through him in that instant.
Finally. Somebody who understands. Someone who will do what is necessary when the moment comes.
Even if I’d rather it was anyone but her.
Tonks’ gaze never left his face. “So let’s go,” she added softly. “Shall we?”
It was a simple nod. But it spoke volumes more than a library full of words.
Wordlessly, the Auror and the Professor turned and side-by-side they moved purposefully towards the door. Remus’ mind was already flashing ahead towards the task in hand, his thoughts whirling, his eyes staring, absent and unseeing at the quiet reception ahead.
We’ve got fifteen minutes, maybe twenty at the most to get to the lab find the Wolfsbane and get out again before the Lockdown. So we just have to…
“Professor Lupin!”
It was only the detachment of his musings that prevented Remus from jumping near out of his skin. Harry’s head, which had appeared out of nowhere mere inches in front of him, was gasping breathlessly as invisible hands shoved both Remus and Tonks unceremoniously back into the office.
“Someone’s coming!” he hissed frantically. “Hide!”
Hide. A good idea, but rather difficult to execute in such confined…
“Remus! Rebekah! Get under the cloak!” Tonks was already moving, shoving the slightly alarmed looking Rebekah into the furthest corner of the office as she all but hurled Harry down on top of her. Remus was not slow to follow, dropping to his knees into the corner beside his cousin as Harry swept his cloak out and dragged it over them both. Tonks, meanwhile, had dived down into the restricted space beneath Rebekah’s desk, tapping her wand against her own head as, like the yolk from a breaking egg, a wave of disillusion surged down and shrouded her from view.
She was only just in time.
Brusque footsteps, two, or perhaps three sets of feet, echoed down the corridor. Remus could hear Rebekah’s harsh breathing as her shoulder pressed uncomfortably against his back, her fingers gripping his shoulder like twisting vices; he could feel the jerk of tension that seized Harry’s body as the young man crouched awkwardly against his teacher’s other side, one hand grasping his wrist for desperate balance. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his blood racing and burning; he could feel the shivers of impending moonrise as they raced throughout his slender form but there was more as well “ he could feel the heat from his companions, feel the blood that surged through their veins as their skin pressed against his and for an instant, he had to suppress a powerful, irrational urge to leap up and flee before he turned around and ripped them both to shreds.
Calm down, Lupin. You never used to be this bad before a no-Wolfsbane moon. You’re not going feral. It’s in your head, it’s in your head….
“It’s almost time.”
Dolph.
I want to kill him. Kill him! The lying, deceitful…
It took all the strength that Remus had to fight down the sudden and primal desire to leap to his feet and rip his fellow werewolf’s throat out. He could almost see it in his mind’s eye, the gush of blood, Dolph’s wide eyes as the life drained from his hated face…
He gulped, swallowing almost painfully as he battled to repel the urge to fight and howl and drive away the hated threat to his hunting, his prey, but when the smooth, slick tone of the werewolf Death Eater rang out again, it almost sent his vicious instincts reeling free once more.
What was the matter with him?
“I trust everything is ready?” The Germanic lilt to the Austrian’s tone gave a slightly sharpened edge to his question, like a knife blade rasping over stone. “I do not want to wake in the morning and find things are not yet in place.”
“It’s all where it should be, Adolphus.” Remus recognised the low voice that replied as that of the Death Eater called Gibbon. “The staff and Lupin are all sealed inside the room you prepared. I’ve left Amycus and Alecto and a couple of others in charge of guarding the werewolf cages overnight and Vole to watch the door to the room where we’re keeping the Dementors…”
“Vole?” Dolph’s interruption was sharp. “You know as well as I do that he’s pathetic in their presence. He’ll be a quivering wreck before midnight.”
Gibbon’s answering chuckle was unpleasant. “Well, then maybe he shouldn’t have been so mouthy earlier. It’s a fine lesson to the others about shutting up and doing as you’re told.” In apparent response to some unseen look from Dolph, Gibbon’s tone became smooth and dismissive. “Don’t worry, old friend. I’ll take his place after moonrise. Your hooded pets don’t bother me much anymore.”
“And the others?”
Gibbon chuckled coldly once more. “I’ve sent everyone else down to that laundry room where I’ve set up the live viewing feed of Lupin and the staff. It should be good sport tonight.”
“Good.” There was a gruff note to Dolph’s voice now as he and his companion came to an apparent halt out in reception; the quiet swearword that passed through Harry’s lips at this development implied he had spent rather too much of the previous year in the company of his godfather. “What about outside? We can’t guarantee the Aurors won’t make an appearance.”
There was a slight edge to Gibbon’s response that Remus could not quite place. “I’ve got teams on broom-back patrolling the perimeter of the anti-apparition wards in case the Aurors show up unexpectedly and two more are on guard at the door until the Lockdown is complete. But I can’t imagine we’ll have company. Not with Bella in custody.”
There was no mistaking the almost palpably deliberate nonchalance in Dolph’s reply. “Now, Valerian, what is that look for?”
“Are you sure you don’t know anything about her capture?” Gibbon’s tone was heavily laden with suspicion. “It’s rather convenient to have the Aurors and the Order so distracted when the time came to bring in Lupin and the two of you have hardly been the best of friends…”
“Do you blame me?” Dolph’s voice was coldly incredulous. “The woman knowingly sent me into a cave with a transforming werewolf last summer! I was lucky I only lost a few chunks of my hand instead of my life!”
“You did attack her sister!”
Dolph’s voice took on a tone of airy unconcern. “That was years ago. And I was only being friendly. Narcissa blew the entire incident out of all proportion. How was I supposed to know she and Malfoy were engaged?”
Gibbon’s tone was darkening by the minute. “You must have known that Bellatrix would be angry. And no one holds a grudge like she does.” His voice was outright menacing now. “Except maybe you.”
Dolph’s exaggerated sigh echoed across the reception. “Oh, for goodness sake. Honestly, Valerian. Do you really think I would be so foolish as to turn Bellatrix over to the Aurors against the Dark Lord’s wishes?”
There was a long silence. And then, grudgingly, Gibbon conceded. “No.”
“Precisely.” Dolph’s voice snapped like a closing trap. “And it’s not as though we can’t retrieve her easily enough. Now that the Dementors are ours, Azkaban is nothing but a glorified dormitory.”
“I suppose so.” Gibbon did not sound entirely convinced but clearly he was in no mood to argue. “Do you still want me to hold onto that bottle?”
Remus’ instincts flared at the slight note of concern that rippled through Dolph’s voice. “You do still have it?”
“Right here.” There was a light chink as something glassy was tapped with what sounded like a knife-blade. “But I still don’t understand…”
“It’s always best to take precautions, Valerian.” Once again, Dolph’s tone set Remus’ teeth quite literally on edge. “You took care of the rest as I asked?”
“Of course I did.” Gibbon sounded vaguely offended. “But how about you, Adolphus? Have you taken your Wolfsbane or do you need…?”
“Of course I have.” Dolph’s tone was dismissive and abrupt. “With all the dark creatures enclosed within this building tonight, I’d be climbing the walls by now if I hadn’t.” He laughed cruelly. “Lupin must be in quite a state by now. I only wish I could watch myself.”
The laugh drove into his veins like poison, tearing at his insides. He longed to rise, to strike, to rip apart his rival until…
Rival?
And then, through the flood of instinct and emotions, Dolph’s words finally hit home.
Climbing the walls…Climbing the walls like me…
Dark Creatures. Oh Merlin.
He was so tense, so tightly wound, so irrationally out of control, in ways he had never been before. But when before had there been other werewolves so close to him at imminent moonrise, rivals to the bite and to the kill?
That had to be it. That had to be why he was finding his instincts so much harder to control than ever in his past. It had been documented by magical creature scholars that the presence of others of their kind close to the rise of the moon often led to irrational outbreaks of anger and unprovoked violence amongst werewolves “ that was why the residents of the Feral Institute were always caged hours in advance of the moon. But aside from that night when Kane had come to Hogwarts “ and I was tense then, too, unnaturally so “ Remus had rarely if ever spent a full moon night anywhere near another werewolf.
Not to mention the cluster of Dementors waiting a few floors below. It was a wonder he had any sanity left.
Now you know what’s wrong. So damned well control it!
Gibbon was speaking again and Remus could almost sense his smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a full account of the festivities. And speaking of which…”
“Go.” Dolph’s voice was equally self-satisfied. “Join the others downstairs. And do enjoy.”
“Oh, I shall.” Gibbon’s tone shifted suddenly, from sickeningly smug to a vaguely patronising sneer. “Are youcoming?”
Remus felt himself frown. Why would he suddenly start talking to Dolph as though he…
“No. No, I don’t think so. It’s not really my sort of thing.”
Remus froze. Against his back, he felt Rebekah go equally rigid.
For even without the apparently affected stutter, there was no mistaking that hesitant, high-pitched voice.
Cymone.
Or at least whoever was wearing her face.
Gibbon’s cold laugh bounced from wall to wall in a slowly swelling crescendo. “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me? Well, suit yourself. See you after moonrise, Adolphus.”
“And you, Valerian.”
Footsteps retreated. A moment later, the lift gave a clank as it lowered away, presumably bearing Gibbon with it. And then…
“I want one thing to be clearly understood.” Dolph’s voice was deceptively casual. “If you ever breath so much as a word to him about my turning Bellatrix in, I’ll hang you by what guts you have from the nearest tree. Is that clear?”
“P…perfectly.” Ah. Perhaps the stutter had not been so affected after all. “But…” The fake Cymone’s voice slipped into a nervous curiousness. “But, I thought you said that You-Know-Who approved Bellatrix’s sacrifice so that the plan could succeed…”
Dolph chuckled slightly. “Oh, he did. She’s been on thin ice ever since the mess she and Malfoy made in the Department of Mysteries, and after she interfered with Kane’s plan at Hogwarts, it had definitely started to crack. She’s just too unstable these days, more a liability than a help. Snape and Alecto have filled her up with a fine lexicon of false information to share with the Ministry though and besides, as I said, it’ll be easy enough for the Dark Lord to get her back if he really wants her.” He snorted. “Although why anyone would…”
“But… you told Gibbon…”
“…That I wouldn’t dream of turning her in against the Dark Lord’s wishes. And I didn’t.” There was a smug note to Dolph’s tone that did little aid Remus’ ongoing battle to prevent himself from wreaking havoc on Dolph’s fragile still human flesh. “I turned her in with his blessing.” A half-sound implied that the fake Cymone had intended another mild protest, but Dolph rapidly forestalled. “Oh, do stop fussing,” he drawled wearily. “Why don’t you go down and join the others to watch Lupin take his chunk of flesh? I would have thought you’d have quite enjoyed watching him mutilate a room full of innocents.”
There was an odd silence, strangely drawn out. When Dolph’s voice finally broke its hold, it was filled with mordant mockery. “Oh, what’s the matter?” he drawled tauntingly. “Don’t you want to see the blood gushing through his teeth? Does the thought of it make you uncomfortable?”
The fake Cymone’s reply was filled with repressed shuddering. “It’s just…just, I’ve been working with the people that he’s going to kill for months now and…”
Oh, don’t tell me you’re pining for the staff!” Dolph gave a loud snort of laughter. “You’ve betrayed closer friends than this in your time! What is it you’ll miss, Zelia’s harmony candles or Aylward’s steely glare? Perhaps you’re pining for Unwin’s grumbling or Croll’s charming sneer…”
“Didn’t Snape ask you to spare Croll?” The fake Cymone ventured uncertainly. “Something about him being a friend of the family?”
“Oh, yes.” Dolph said casually. “But unfortunately, there’s going to be a horrible misunderstanding. I’ll apologise to Severus of course, but…”
The fake Cymone sounded bewildered. “But why? Why risk making another enemy?”
“Because I don’t like Croll,” Dolph words were laced with an almost vindictive menace. “I don’t like any of them. Self-righteous, superior bastards, with their tests and their potions and their cages, patronising me as though one simple bite has changed the fact I’m ten times better than the lot of them. Well, now let’s see how they like being caged, how they like the long slow dread of the impending moon and the pain that it will bring. I wanted their deaths to be poetic, not some brusque Avada Kedavra and that’s exactly what I intend to do. Not to mention that if by chance any of them should survive with mere bites, they’ll make an excellent addition to the rank of our little feral army. The jailors become the slaves.” His voice shimmered with cruel pleasure. “I was going to do it myself. But in the end, it’s all the better that their killer will be that smug bastard Lupin.”
Remus felt Harry jerk against him “ it was all he could do to keep from starting himself.
Well. It doesn’t sound like he’s very fond of me. And I don’t think that’s the moon talking…
“You…don’t like him much, do you?” The fake Cymone almost seemed to speak Remus’ thoughts aloud.
“I hate him.” Dolph’s response was bizarrely offhand. “Profoundly.”
“But why? I mean… what’s he ever done to you?”
“He exists.” Dolph’s voice was almost a snarl; it took the full weight of Remus’ will to keep him from snarling in reply. “Oh, he was never my favourite little minion of Dumbledore during the first war but now…” He cursed loudly. “How dare he? How dare that obnoxious half-blood swan around free and self-righteous whilst I, a pureblood of the finest calibre, am locked away to suffer? We have both had our feral moments, our foolish slips out of control, but yet he teaches in a Merlin-cursed school while I am locked away and left to rot in the middle of nowhere with a pack of filthy werewolves!” For a moment, there was no sound but the harsh rasp of Dolph’s breath as his tirade settled back into icy rage. “But he will pay for his impertinence. When his Hauptgericht Warnung is complete, he will understand his place at last.”
“Hauptgericht Warnung?” Again, the fake Cymone spoke the question that was flashing across Remus’ mind. “What’s that?”
Dolph chuckled nastily. “It’s German,” he said softly, “For main course warning. Let’s see how Dumbledore’s civilised, privileged werewolf enjoys waking up tomorrow morning to find himself full-bellied on the remains of the Institute staff. He’ll beg for the blessed relief of a Dementor’s Kiss when he’s done “ if he still has his own mind to use. Which I doubt.”
There was a vague edge of discomfort to the fake Cymone’s tone. “So it’s just revenge?”
Dolph’s retort was a sneer. “What’s the matter? Having regrets?”
“Of course not.” But Remus was not convinced by the tone and neither, apparently, was Dolph.
“Oh, get a hold of yourself,” he snapped impatiently. “You betrayed the other three without much hesitation. Why should you feel so uncomfortable at completing the set?”
A nasty, frost-like prickle ran across Remus’ spine. He felt Harry tense sharply.
The fake Cymone mumbled something too low for Remus to hear. Dolph gave a cruel laugh.
“Well, it’s a little too late to be feeling sorry for your poor old friend. You got him into this, after all. You didn’t have to push him down that chute.”
There was another dribble of mumbling but this time Dolph cut the indistinct words away mid thread.
“Oh, stop being pathetic,” he retorted in disgust. “I have to get to my chamber before the change. Get downstairs and wait at the door, if you don’t want to watch. There’s still time for the Aurors to interfere and you may be needed.”
“But this is the last cycle?” The fake Cymone spoke more audibly once more. “Once the moon is risen and the building locked down, you won’t need me to be disguised to deflect anyone who comes from the Ministry. Can I just let the Polyjuice wear off now?”
“Be my guest,” Dolph replied indifferently. “Not that it’ll make much improvement.”
“It will to me,” the fake Cymone’s reply was fervent. “I think being a woman for so long has sent me a bit funny.”
Dolph’s laugh was long and disdainful. “What?” he retorted. “Funnier than twelve years as a rat? ”
The frosty prickle became ice. The world froze.
He heard Harry’s gasp but it barely registered for the realisation, the truth that had smacked its way into his brain had set his mind reeling. Pieces dropped into place one by one - the familiarity of Cymone’s twitchy movements, the nervousness displayed whenever Remus was nearby, the grumbling, even the tone of voice “ suddenly, it all fitted together into a sharp and terrible whole that filled Remus with sickened realisation to the very depths of his soul.
Oh God. Peter. It’s Peter.