Remus yelled some incomprehensible gibberish. What the hell was going on?
Francesca ignored him. “Scream away,” she said. Remus flinched as her breath tickled his ear. It wasn’t a very nice feeling.
“They can’t hear you,” she continued smugly, “and they won’t- not until I decide to let you cross back.”
This only made Remus panic more. He was normally sensible and preferred talking to fighting, but this was absolutely ridiculous. Talking didn’t seem to be the way to connect with this girl. So, instead of reasoning, he resorted to the more animalistic method of yelling at twisting his arms, trying to loosen Francesca’s grip.
She didn’t budge. This girl was strong.
More than ever, Remus wished that he was an Animagus, like his friends. What he wouldn’t give to turn into a werewolf right now and take a swipe at the insolent girl’s throat. What he wouldn’t give to tear the flesh off of her neck with those wickedly curved claws . . .
He stopped himself. What was he thinking? He was being downright sadistic. There had to be another way.
“Stop struggling,” Francesca said in a bored, yet somehow menacing, voice. Her knife, cold from the winter air, was back across his Adam’s apple.
Why him? Sirius would have loved to get kidnapped. Why couldn’t Sirius be in his place right now?
“They will not find you here,” Francesca snarled, “because we are no longer on their side. When they have left, we will cross back into the winter-” her voice lowered threateningly, “-and you will take me to Dumbledore.”
Remus fell limp as he pondered the girl’s words. We are no longer on their side? We will cross back into the winter? What on earth was she talking about?
He looked up at the sunlight that was spilling from the clear blue sky. One thing was for certain- where they were standing, it wasn’t winter any more.
“Look, I don’t like this either,” Francesca was saying. “Just take me to Dumbledore and I’ll let you go. This should be so easy.”
When he did not respond, she swore rather colorfully. “What is it with you?” she snapped. “Are you united in the cause to slow me down or what?”
“What do you mean?” Remus asked coldly, eyeing the knife uneasily.
“Idiot,” she snapped, as if to clear things up.
They both stiffened. The Marauders had converged barely three feet away from them. Remus breathed hard. He could kick out and break through the . . . the . . . the whatever-it-was that they were standing in. If his friends saw him, they could help him. They would run this insolent girl through, hex her into oblivion.
Francesca seemed to know what he was thinking. “Go ahead,” she said, amused.
Remus huffed impatiently. She would not be laughing in a minute, when she would be reduced to a quivering, grotesque mass lying in the dirty snow lining the street.
Francesca took the knife away from his throat. “Go on,” she said snottily. “Lash out. Alert your friends. Bring their wrath down on me. You’ll see that they can do nothing.”
She gripped one of his wrists very tightly and shoved him hard. Stumbling over his feet, he half-fell through the border between summer and winter. He instinctively flung out his hand to catch himself. Instead, however, it vibrated uncomfortably as it broke through and flailed wildly for his friends.
Sirius reacted swiftly, reaching for his outstretched hand.
Francesca, however, was either faster or had some sort of warning. She yanked him back, pulling him into a very painful headlock. He retracted his free hand and clawed at the arm wrapped around his throat. He couldn’t breathe. . .
His eyes rolled sideways to glare at Francesca’s weirdly warped face. Just his luck that he would be kidnapped by someone shorter than him. She didn’t even look strong enough to hold him back. . .
His eyes rolled back to face forward and grew very alarmed. His friends had formed a small triangle and were racing towards them rather quickly.
Unable to move out of the way, he moaned and braced himself for a very painful collision.
It didn’t come.
His friends had run right through them, not even creating a breeze. It was as if they had fallen into nothing.
Fallen into nothing. Remus paled and shook his head. That couldn’t happen. He had studied enough Muggle science to know that. And he knew enough about magic to know that a Muggle wasn’t capable of casting a simple Levitation Charm. There was a logical explanation for this. He was sure of it.
“If you have any theories, let me know.” Francesca laughed mockingly at his expression. “I need something that sounds arcane and yet plausible. You know, for all the times when people are asking what’s going on.”
Remus shook his head again, stubbornly refusing to believe his own “and patently ridiculous- theory. It made no sense whatsoever.
“That was my attitude for a while,” Francesca commented, “but I adjusted after a while. Sure, it’s weird, but when you’re not fighting for your life it’s kind of cool.”
Fallen into nothing. Erased. Gone.
That wasn’t possible. No, it couldn’t be… except that it was.<
Was it possible?
Dumb question, his oxygen-starved brain said scornfully. It’s happening, for Merlin’s sake. By this point, it’s hardly worth debating whether it’s possible or not.
Remus struggled for a breath in the girl’s ever-tightening headlock and looked back at her. Her mouth was curling into a very self-satisfied, if ugly, sneer.
“Now,” she smirked. “Since you won’t take me to Dumbledore...” her knife clattered to the ground and short, powerful fingers wrapped around his throat. “I’ll just let you go, then.”
Remus saw the corners of his vision darken. No, he thought desperately. That can’t happen. If I black out, there’s no way that I can defend myself- not that I’m doing such a great job as it is, of course-
His brain, for some reason, wasn’t listening to his mental pleas. It simply let go, and he spiraled down into complete darkness.