***Nursie Note*** Well, I'd like to thank everyone for the kind reviews, and also I would like to give an extra thank you to my newest beta person Sarmi who is also a fellow Portkeyer. You would not believe the help and suggestions she gave me on this part alone. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Interlude 4 as well as Part 10 should be done very soon. Interlude 4 will be sent to Beta sometime tomorrow. So who knows, there may be an update sooner than a week. You just never know. *lol*
~Nursie
Interlude 3: The Room of Requirement-
She had been here before, she knew that… but it didn't help her to figure out where she was going. Tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision, and she couldn't even begin to think straight.
Willow drew her wand once again, muttering Alohomora, then heard the faithful sound of the doorknob unlocking. She pushed it open with difficulty, looking around trying to see.
"LUMOS." She called out, hearing her voice bounce back to her from the empty room. She fought the urge to let her mind drift back to a similar feeling she once had not so long ago. She shook her head, defeated, raising her wand so she could see the contents of the room she found herself in.
She had gone through several maze like corridors, and each passing room was more massive that the last. It was if the house kept building onto itself, and she shuddered to think just how large Number 12 Grimmauld Place really was. She breathed out, noticing the way her breath frosted in the sudden coldness of the room. She shivered, hugging her arms to herself, trying to warm her upper arms by rubbing briskly. She stepped around what felt like the edge of a desk and inhaled again sharply, only to let it out, feeling the ice crystals forming as she exhaled.
Willow walked into the room further and blocked out the sound of her blood pumping in her ears. She tried to make sure she was imagining the sound of hammers beating nails into the woodwork.
She sighed nervously when the room went silent, but jumped out of her skin when she felt the hand on her shoulder. She froze accordingly, terrified to turn around.
"Why did you run off like that?" Remus Lupin demanded, turning her around to face him when he realized she wasn't going to do so herself.
"Don't… don't you hear that?" she stammered, her eyes wide.
Remus shook his head. "You do know you're in a house that was occupied with dark wizards for centuries… right?" He grabbed her arm and proceeded to pull her away from the room.
When they were securely through the doorway, Remus shut the door hard and reestablished the locking charm that had kept the door closed.
"What kind of room is it?" She shuddered.
"You will face your darkest fear in that room. You shouldn't have run off." Remus replied, guiding her back towards the heart of the house.
"What do you mean?" Willow eyed Lupin as they descended back towards the lighted hallways.
"I suppose the room found you. It could sense your vulnerability. Sirius found that room once, but that was ages ago, during holiday from school. He never did mention what happened in there. He had also described it as being somewhere on the third floor. We are still at ground level." Lupin sighed. "I had hoped Sirius was just playing tricks, but now, I'm not so certain." His voice turned somewhat unsure and he threw a quick look back at the doorway. " It knew you were running from something and…"
"Wait... Back up," Willow said after she recovered from how openly Lupin mentioned Harry's godfather. Every time she heard his name her thoughts drifted to her brother. "You said the room 'found' me? How is that possible?" she finally asked, trying to clear her thoughts and keep them away from her brother.
Lupin smiled reassuringly. "Like you, this house has many secrets. Where do you think all those muggle books and movies about haunted houses and ghosts come from? The Ministry gets many royalties for allowing these things to coexist within the muggle world. It is a form of entertainment if you will." Lupin thought for a second, trying to figure out a way to lighten the conversation. "You did know of the muggle horror author Stephen King, right?"
Willow nodded her head and looked confused.
"He's a squib. He gives the Ministry a healthy chunk of his commissions to be able to write about our world and make it look like fantasy."
"Ah.. Yes… Muggles do have a weird sense of entertaining themselves. Don't they know that these things are real? And could hurt them." Willow ran her hand over her face. "Don't these people know that these things could hurt them?" She added moderately concerned.
"It is highly regulated. A lot of unexplained things have happened to the Muggles. We have to do what we can to survive though. "
"You mean there are actual hauntings like those?" Willow inquired after a moment.
"Don't act as if you aren't aware of these things. If there is one thing you should know already is that Magic is unpredictable…"
"Are there evil spirits here?" She asked quietly.
"I don't know." Lupin remarked honestly. "There have been an awful lot of dark wizards and witches who have lived in this house." He looked around, and Willow could see he was relieved to be away from that door.
"But that doesn't mean they are controlling the house."
"No… not really… for them it is just like any dwelling. A place to inhabit until they are ready to move on. This house has many secrets, Professor. But not as many as you do, I assume."
Willow gasped as he caught her eye. "What are you saying Moony? I've told you quite a few things."
Lupin pondered her words for a full minute. "This is true, but there is more to it than that. I wasn't the only one that witnessed you running off when Miss Lovegood and Ginny were speaking. I am, however, the only one that recognized the look upon your face."
"You have secrets of your own… don't you, Uncle Moony?" she said softly.
"This isn't about me," he said firmly, but did not catch her eye. "It's about Harry."
"I know what I have to do now." She stepped away from him and turned her back.
"And what might that be?"
"I need to keep my parents apart. They cannot be allowed to be alone together. If my mother does not conceive me… then there will be no Sirius as well."
Lupin grabbed Willow's shoulders turned her around. "You are going to sacrifice yourself so that you're brother is never born?"
"He's the one that attacked Ginny. He killed Miss Brown and he's somehow getting inside Harry's head like I can. I have to stop him. Maybe, if I'm not conceived, I'll have time to tell Harry how he died and he can plan his actions accordingly. Before I… Before I disappear." She looked at Lupin with a mix of duty and emotion. " You don't understand, I know." She paused.
Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is giving me a headache. I think I could use a nice pain relief potion."
Willow sighed loudly, looking around for somewhere they could talk. She quickly recognized a room she had stayed in once before, pushed open the door and gently pulled Lupin inside.
"If I tell you everything, will you help me?" Willow eyed Lupin intensely.
Lupin looked around the room, walked towards the stuffed chair in the corner and motioned for Willow to follow him.
"I will do what I can. You know that," he assured her. She walked up to the window and peeked out at the midmorning sun. She noticed two children outside playing in the park across the road, and she felt a lump form in her chest and start to rise to her throat.
One was a girl of probably seven and the other a boy a year or so older than her. The girl with dark hair and the boy with hair a few shades lighter. She could barely see their faces and had no idea who they were.
However, she could tell they were close. They were playing around their front lawn, building, from what Willow could make out, a snowman. She chuckled nervously, then turned to Lupin.
"You know, it's ironic. Even though we grew up being raised together, it's amazing how much my brother and I are opposite. From day one, he had a chip on his shoulder. He was always arrogant and hateful. He never did try to understand the sacrifices that our father and mother made for us. Not to mention the sacrifice my grandparents made just to keep my father alive for as long as they did."
Willow suddenly stopped talking when she saw the look on Lupin's face. He seemed to have been listening up until she had mentioned her grandparents, and then an unfamiliar look crossed his features. Willow was hesitant to go on. She had never seen her godfather make that face before and it frightened her.
"What is it?" she asked him softy, noticing the silent tears sliding down his cheeks. He turned away. "It's… it's nothing," he stammered. "I get a little emotional sometimes when others mention... Lily... and... James." Lupin finally finished what he was saying after taking an unusual amount of time to say her grandmother's name. When he spoke of her grandfather, his voice was but a whisper.
"You miss them, don't you?" Willow placed a hand on Lupin's shoulder. "I never met them, but I've been told I have my grandmother's eyes."
Lupin looked up at her, straight into her eyes, and his own eyes glazed over again.
"You're right. You do… have Lily's eyes. Harry got them from his mother." Lupin looked away towards the window, took a deep cleansing breath, then forced a smile. "Well, they are gone now. But I am sure James would have cared deeply about you."
Willow tried to hide the blush and smiled at him. "Thank you. Coming from you that means a lot. Somehow, I feel you would know what my granddad would think. Call it a sixth sense."
"I knew your grandfather as well as I know myself," he replied gently, his eyes desperately avoiding hers. "And Lily, well, I'll miss her till the day I die." Lupin caught himself realizing what he had said. "I'll miss them both, as well as Sirius," he added as he finally convinced himself to look at Willow's face. He cleared his throat. " They were the only people that brought myself meaning until I saw Harry again."
"Again? You had met him before you taught at Hogwarts?" Willow tilted her head asking him a seemingly harmless question.
But Lupin's eyes grew wide with horror as if he had spoken the dark lord's name. He recovered his thoughts quickly and looked to Willow like a man very much trying to figure out a way to take back what he had just said.
"Well, did you?" She asked again.
"Willow, I couldn't possibly answer that the way you need me to. I'm sorry." He shook his head, cleared his throat and glanced outside once more. "Shall I listen while you finish what you have to say? I think, perhaps we should focus on helping Harry the best that we can. After all, that is what you came here to do." He said in a far off voice not looking at her at all through his words.
Willow stared at him, debating on whether to continue her current conversation with him. With one look at his expression, she quickly came to the conclusion that it wouldn't be a great idea. Whatever it was that Lupin held back buried in his thoughts, he wanted it to remain buried.
"All right then." She sat down on a rug and crossed her legs. Leaning back on her arms she chuckled softly. "It's funny how when you least expect things to occur, they have a nasty way of showing up. Especially when you have written something off to be unimportant."
"I am not lost," Willow cried into the empty corridor. "A prefect doesn't get lost!" She scratched her head, stopping in the middle of the hallway, searching for any idea of how to get back to Gryffindor tower.
"Damn it!" She cursed as one of the staircases abruptly decided to switch itself around just as she was about to step onto the first stair. She grabbed the banister for support so that she wouldn't fall into the seemingly bottomless pit below. She looked down, noting how dark and frightening it looked from the level she was on. She quickly turned around, seeking an alternative way down.
She decided after looking in both directions to grab her wand to help shed some light on where she was.
"Lumos," she whispered, praying she wouldn't run into Filch… or maybe she wanted to run into him. Perhaps he could navigate her out of the maze she was in.
It was funny now that she thought about it. The silly old hat's ramblings had sent her through the castle on many a night through out her Hogwarts career. She found nothing, not even a clue as to what she was looking for. Tonight had been no different.
What was she looking for anyway. A silly old room. No… not just a silly old room but a room with a trunk… her mother's trunk. Or least that was what the weird old hat had told her. She felt very stupid suddenly just wanting to find her way back to her room. After all, she had searched for this mysterious room for seven long years and still hadn't found it. She sighed wearily, feeling sorrowful and disappointment and then she turned a corner deciding it was time to find her way back.
Following the wand light down several more twists and turns, she stopped after she realized she was going in circles. She had passed the same door four times. Curiosity, among other traits she had inherited from her father, got the best of her, and she grabbed the knob on the door and jerked it open. Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
The door opened with a wicked sounding creak that continued until Willow stepped into the room.
She looked around, not quite knowing what she was looking for. The room looked oddly familiar. It seemed to replicate the Gryffindor girl's dorms. It confused her more that it looked almost exactly like the room she was assigned to when she had become a seventh year prefect.
It was late in her last year at Hogwarts and even though she knew the school front and back, she couldn't help but feel like she was in some kind of time warp.
The room looked like it hadn't seen the light of day in almost twenty years. There was dust covering furnishings and several items that looked a lot like they were from an entirely different decade. Maybe even a different century.
She ran a finger across a writing desk, and dusted off the blackness that had collected on her finger with her robes. There were books everywhere, embers in the fireplace and even a litter box with food and water bowls sitting in the corner.
Suddenly, the fire blazed from the embers in the fire and Willow swore she heard the angry meow of a cat. The door to the room slammed shut, and she jumped nearly high enough into the air to be considered flying.
She grabbed at her chest just above her heart, feeling it pound into her ribcage. She gasped, trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her when the door slammed.
She took several more steps, her eyes darting around the room in fear. She neared the four poster bed as the flames started to die down, making the fire look less intimidating.
It was almost as if the room sensed she was afraid. She trembled vigorously, holding her wand in her grip as her fingernails pierced her skin of her palm. She didn't release her grip.
She took several more breaths before her heart rate slowed and she was able to breathe somewhat normally.
"Is anyone there?" she called out, immediately feeling stupid. When nothing answered her, she sighed and sat down on the dusty comforter that covered the bed.
A cloud of dust flew into her face as she sat down, and she coughed and sneezed for a full five minutes. She rubbed her watering eyes, hearing something creak next to her at the foot of the bed.
She stared in amazement as she saw a trunk at the foot of the bed slowly open it's lid. She leaned over to look at it, rubbing her eyes again so that she could see the initials of the person it belonged to.
HP. She read silently. Her father's initials! Her eyes grew wide and she bolted off the bed. She kneeled in front of the trunk as it opened the rest of the way, bearing it's contents for her to see.
She ran a gentle hand over the Gryffindor emblem, making sure the lid was securely opened and wasn't going to snap shut once she had ventured her hand inside to explore its treasures.
Her heart filled with sadness and happiness at the same time. It was an odd feeling, but a welcome one anyway. The first thing she pulled out was something made of material that felt like satin but flowed through her fingers like water. Standing, she quickly wrapped the cloak around her. Looking down at the floor, she almost screamed when she saw that her feet were no longer there.
~An invisibility cloak.~
She shed it from her shoulders and examined the inside.
~These have been outlawed since… since… since your father died.~
Her mind was speaking to her. She shook off her ramblings. It was too much to hope for that this would be her father's cloak. At that exact moment though, Willow caught a glimpse of a piece of spell-o-tape. Marked inside in tiny handwriting she didn't recognize was her grandfather's name. She let out a small whimper, then hugged the cloak to her chest, feeling the tears welling in her eyes.
Something golden seemed to be moving inside the trunk. Willow, not wanting to put down the heirloom she held, tightly wrapped it once more around her shoulders, and sank to her knees.
She reached a hand in to pick up the object, freeing it from whatever was holding it in place.
~A snitch.~
She marveled as it fluttered from her grip to take a spin around the room.
Her mind was in overdrive as she hastily started digging into the trunk, searching for something, anything, that would remind her of her parents, tell her of her father.
Harry James Potter was a mystery to her. Sure, she had heard the stories, whispered when whoever was speaking thought nobody was listening.
He had been a powerful wizard for his age… and had died just shortly before he turned eighteen. Not much older than she herself was. In fact, she was less than a month away from it… they both were.
To look at her brother was like looking at an old portrait, to be seeing a ghost of a person she never knew. She had always felt a longing for him, especially now. She couldn't explain it, and didn't have any real friends to discuss it with.
Sure, there was Dumbledore, but he was old and senile. Or at least that was how he was perceived to be. Again, lately she was having random thoughts about him, wondering if he was as far gone as he made himself look.
~That Dumbledore is a wise wizard… perhaps as wise as Merlin himself if not more so.~
He seemed to be biding his time about something and her thoughts briefly dwelled on that notion as an option. It would definitely be a reason to allow herself to hope. The wizarding world was in pure chaos, and Willow could not remember a time when she was actually unafraid of what the next second would bring.
Yes, that would definitely be something to hope for. To have the wizarding world peaceful again, living day to day not afraid of whether you would live or die.
Dumbledore was a sly old man.
Her heart bubbled with her treacherous thoughts and Willow allowed her mind to wander.
She saw her mother's death echo through her mind like a nightmare. She saw her brother sorted into Slytherin, where he had become so cold and calculating, even more so than before, but the house he was sorted into really solidified his intentions.
Sirius hated their parents. He made no bones about that. Willow's weakness however, was that she loved him.
He was her brother after all… That alone wasn't the problem. With each passing year, Sirius had grown to look more and more like Harry. Willow had recognized it the most, but clearly knew that it was only in appearance.
Sirius had sided with Voldemort early on. In fact, Willow had figured it out a long time ago how he had become involved in killing their mother. If not for his fondness of Draco Malfoy… Hermione, her mother might still be alive.
Her heart sank as she remembered her childhood. Her godfather, Remus Lupin, had always made sure both of them were cared for, but his efforts were lost on Sirius. But Willow loved her godfather for trying.
And he had tried desperately… until it was evident that it was a vain effort. At least, since they had figured out that Sirius was the leak in the Order, the few members that remained had survived.
But they had realized these things far too late. There was very little resistance against the Dark Lord these days, and what little of it there was had gone into hiding, much the same as her grandparents had.
Her brain skimmed over memories of lost friends and family, detailing the roughness in her life until the day she set foot in Hogwarts.
The Sorting Hat…
She gasped as the thought crossed her conscious mind, and she closed her eyes to get a clearer vision inside her head.
The dirty, smelly old hat's song, along with the sudden glint in the headmaster's eye, made Willow shudder as she contemplated the meaning behind them.
She opened her eyes slowly as she fathomed the riddle the hat had recited to her.
It wasn't really a riddle… not at all. Willow bit her lower lip in concentration, now rummaging heatedly through the insides of the trunk which seemed to hold far more than she could imagine.
After nearly emptying the trunk, Willow sat on the floor, still wrapped inside the invisibility cloak. She mused about how strange she must look if anyone were to peer in and see her. She would be just a head floating in mid air.
She laughed at the simple thought. Thinking about how she herself would react to such a sight.
With rejuvenated resolve, she delved her hand back into the trunk, determined to go through each and every last item that it held.
What she found when she got to the bottom made her heart skip a beat, and she had to remind herself to breathe.
There was no doubt, from the moment that she held it in her hand, that this had been her father's wand. An overwhelming feeling that this moment was somehow bigger than she was washed over her as she lifted it from the trunk, holding it delicately in her hand, as if she was afraid it would disappear if she held it too tightly.
Her initial thought as she picked it up was, now that she had this wand, she would never use her old wand again. Then, she instantly felt guilty for having the thought, as if she somehow didn't believe she was worthy to weild the wand that had once belonged to the great Harry Potter.
She could not resist... she could not hold that wand and not at least try it out. "Lumos," she said, her voice cracking slightly. The light that shimmered forth from the wand seemed to her somehow more pure and beautiful than any she'd ever seen before, almost as if the wand itself was as excited to be used again as she was to have found it.
Sitting there, wearing the invisibility cloak that her father had worn, and holding the wand that had once belonged to him, Willow felt closer to the father she had never known than she ever thought possible. She didn't know whether she wanted to laugh or to cry... but in that moment, she could feel his love all around her.
She sat there for some time, marveling at the wand, and letting the incredible, mythic feeling of this moment in time fill every fiber of her being.
Then, after many minutes had gone by, she started to close the trunk, satisfied that she'd gone through everything. And yet, something stopped her. Not quite sure why, she reached into the trunk once more, and ran her hand slowly over the bottom of the trunk.
Her hand brushed against the velvet lining and her nail caught on something odd. She leaned over to see what she had snagged. Quickly she ripped a bit of the lining, then knocked her knuckle against the wooden bottom.
~Hollow?~
She was confused, until her nail yet again found another interesting secret.
She pried at the hollow bottom with her fingernail for what felt like ages.
Underneath the hidden panel at the floor of the trunk, Willow found a single envelope.
It was much like her Hogwarts letters.
Miss. Willow Potter
The Room of Requirement
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Scotland
To Be Continued...
Interlude 4: The Letter-