Return of the Shadow

Author's Notes: It's been 15 minutes since I posted the end of The Sacrifice. Anyone miss me yet? :P Just kidding. Now, I do feel the need to make a few notes before we start. Yes, this is Harry/Hermione. It's also Remus/Tonks and another ship I won't tell you about. Many characters from The Sacrifice show up here, so if you didn't read that you may not quite understand what's going on.

Oh yes. This is not a love story. There are romantic and passionate moments, yes, but this was not written with the love theme in mind, so don't expect too much of an appearance with that genre.

I'll shut up now. As always, feedback is welcomed and desperately desired.

Enjoy. --me

Disclaimer: Once again, I do not actually own any of the marvelous character created by the amazing J.K Rowling; otherwise I'd be able to fix my car (stupid transmission, grrrr. . . *grumble*grumble*)!! Anything that is recognizably part of the Harry Potter universe, of course, belongs to her. *bows* However, certain creatures are mine, as is the inimitable Calista Serene and any other OCs.

Summary: This is the sequel to The Sacrifice. These events occur 20 years after the Marauders graduation, right after Sirius dies. (See, I've spoiled already!) The canon trio is here, but this is the continuation of the Remus Lupin story I started in “The Sacrifice”, but the other Marauder's are here too. [We all believe in ghosts, right? ;)] And that is all of a summary you will get from me, my friends. If you really want to know, read.

Return of the Shadow

(The sequel to The Sacrifice)

Remus saw Bellatrix's Stunner hit Sirius in the chest and send him reeling backward towards the veil. Remus jumped onto the dais as Sirius' body vanished behind the black curtain, but one hand had yet to vanish and so Remus grabbed it and pulled with all of his might. Something behind the veil was pulling Sirius back, but Remus was not about to lose any more friends. Sirius was everything he had left in the world, and so Remus used all of his strength. Sirius came flying out of the curtain and together they tumbled off of the dais and onto the stone floor.

Remus was laughing with relief. What would I do if I lost him again? But he hadn't, thank goodness and he had a battle to fight, so Remus lifted his head to look at Sirius. All he saw was a rotting corpse, the gray flesh peeling away from the skull to reveal bones black with decay. Sirius' skeletal hand clamped down on Remus' wrist and the eyeless head suddenly opened its mouth in a grin, fat white worms slithering in and out between broken teeth.

Remus screamed and sat up in his bed. It was the same dream he'd been having for months, and it was still as horrifying as it was the first time. He swung his legs over the bed and looked around his room in Grimmauld Place. God, he hadn't wanted to come back here, but he had no where else to go. Thanks to Dolores Umbridge, he had no job, no income, which meant he'd lost the lease on his house and had been evicted. Dumbledore had insisted he come here and live, which worked out well enough since the Order was still using the place for headquarters and someone had to keep an eye on Kreacher.

Kreacher. The thought of the Black's traitorous house elf made Remus give serious consideration to letting the wolf take over and tearing off the foul beings head. He didn't have to tell anyone about it, and he didn't think Harry would mind if Kreacher were to disappear. Poor, miserable Harry, whose letters had been short but continuous all summer. They had held nothing but the barest of sentences: “I'm fine. -are treating me as usual. No need to come. Harry.”

It had been two days since Harry's last letter, and sparsely written as they were, Remus looked forward to them. Letters couldn't give him the sympathizing looks and hushed whispers Molly Weasely was full off. Remus had finally told her, exasperatedly, that he didn't need her at headquarters all the time and she should go tend to her own household. He knew he had hurt her feelings, but he really didn't care.

A/N: Yes, I know, world's shortest intro ever! I had to hook y'all somehow! Trust me, this is the only “filler” I have. Please do not strangle me until we hit Chapter 3 (because I garauntee you will hate me Comforting thought, isn't it?)

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A/N: Dude. I have absolutely no excuse for leaving this as long as I have. (Well, I actually DO but you're not going to care.) If I leave this again, feel free to poke me. With red hot pokers. Yes. As always, I, the review whore, welcome your comments, your critiques and (yes) even your flames (as long as you give a valid excuse for flaming me!). Happy reading. And if you remember me, or this story at all, then I love you and you get cookies. The chocolate chunk kind.

Chapter One: Arrival

Harry stared at the door to Number 12, Grimmauld Place with a feeling of doom. He really did not want to go in there. Sirius was everywhere in that place; he wouldn't be able to breathe without seeing his godfather wherever he went.
He'd been putting this off for over a year, ignoring Lupin's gentle pleas to come and visit. Dumbledore and the Order still used the house as headquarters, and Lupin lived there now as an unofficial caretaker in addition to performing his other mysterious duties. Harry didn't know how they could stand being in this house, with reminders of Sirius everywhere. But then, he thought, not everyone cared about Sirius like I did.
“C'mon, mate, are you going to just stand here staring all day or are you going in?” Ron pushed his way past Harry, heaving his trunk up the stairs and over the threshold. There was a soft chuckle and Harry turned to face Hermione.
“Despite his insensitivity, he does have a point,” she said gently.
“Don't make me,” Harry pleaded. Hermione just looked at him with that patient smile of hers, waiting. Harry sighed and muttered a silent prayer. It was either go in, or go back to the Dursley's and explain why he was home early.
Nuts. He grasped his trunk in one hand, Hedwig's cage in the other, and marched in, Hermione in his wake. The familiar gloom and doom enveloped him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. The door's many magical locks clinked and clanked into place behind him.
“So pleasant, isn't it?” Lupin's wry voice came out of the shadows as he walked out from the drawing room to join them. “I tried to make it more cheerful, but every time I tried. . . ” He shrugged toward the wall, where Harry knew the horrible portrait of Sirius' mother hung, quiet now behind moth-eaten curtains.
“Better to be a bit gloomy than invoke the wrath of the Black Banshee,” Hermione said.
“Right you are, Hermione,” Lupin smiled. “How've you been?” He moved forward to shake her hand.
“Not bad, considering,” she said, glancing sideways at Harry. “Where did Ron run off to?”
“The twins are experimenting in the kitchen, and you just missed an explosion,” Lupin said wryly.
“Ahha. Enough said.” Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned.
“Hello, Harry,” Lupin said softly.
“Hello.” Harry stared at the floor, shuffling his feet. He was suddenly embarrassed; he didn't want to explain why he'd been away for so long.
“I'm very glad you came.” That soft voice was invading his thoughts, making his stomach churn. Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was spared of trying to think of what by another explosion from the kitchens. The walls themselves shook with the force of it; and nobody was very surprised when the moldy curtains flew open to reveal the shrieking monster that was Mrs. Black.
“SCUM! FILTH! WRETCHED FOUL BEINGS!”
“Go! Go! I'll take care of it!” Lupin cried over the din. Harry and Hermione grabbed their things and fled upstairs to their rooms. Harry collapsed on the bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to the dim rants of Mrs. Black and Lupin's fruitless attempts to silence her far below.
Home sweet home, his mind whispered sadly.

Chapter Two: Drunken Nightmares


Remus twirled his fourth glass of gin and cranberry juice, watching the candlelight flicker in the red liquid.
“Bloody wonderful,” he muttered.
“Wow.” Remus jerked quickly and saw Harry standing in the doorway. “That drink must be one good talker.”
With his mind the swirling mush it was, it took Remus a moment to realize Harry was making a joke . . . his first in over a year. From the boy who hadn't truly smiled since Sirius fell, it was an enormous step.
“You have your mother's humor,” he said without thinking. Damnit. Harry's eyes widened behind his spectacles and Remus winced internally.
“Why are you up, anyway,” he asked quickly.
“I couldn't sleep,” Harry said.
“Well, come sit with me.” Remus gestured to one of the several empty chairs around the table. Harry picked the one directly across from him and sat down, looking at his hands. The silence was thick and uncomfortable, since neither really knew what to say. What the heck. Dive in head first.
“I know it's hard for you to be here again,” Remus said softly, “but I meant what I said before. I'm very glad you decided to come.”
“Dumbledore decided for me,” Harry said bitterly.
“Oh,” Remus said sadly. He hadn't known that, and the knowledge that even after one year Harry hadn't chosen to come of his own accord struck deep. Part of him wasn't surprised, though. And to think, I'd been foolish enough to believe Harry wanted to see me. Why would he? I'm not Sirius. I'm just his old teacher. “Well--” he said slowly. Some of his hurt must have crept into his voice, for Harry's face dropped.
“I'm sorry,” he said quickly.
“Don't be. I wouldn't want to be here either.”
“Its not you,” Harry started to say. Remus didn't think he could bear that conversation just yet.
“I know Harry. It's this place. It's haunted by things more powerful than ghosts and mad portraits.”
There was silence for a bit as both man and boy considered the depth of that statement. Remus saw Harry's eyes glance around at anything and everything but him. He sighed and went back to swishing his drink around.
“What is that?” Harry asked. Remus looked to where Harry was pointing. Wads of parchment littered the far end of the table; the remnants of an earlier meeting of the Order he had not bothered to clean up. Harry was pointing at a large drawing of a creature, a grayish-white form with long bulky limbs and great bulging eyes. Remus felt himself go cold.
“You're not--” he started, but then he paused and eyed the boy sitting across from him. Bloody hell. He's the one who will end up doing most of the fighting in the end, if what Dumbledore says is true. He may as well know what he's up against.
“They're called Mizeria,” he began quietly. “They first appeared in Greece about fourty years ago, and the name comes from them. It means `misery'. It's fitting, because that's what these creatures bring wherever they go: misery.” Just like some people. -- Don't go there Moony. -- Why not? We're already in Hell. -- Leave it alone.
“They're Dark creatures of the worst sort. They have similar traits to Dementors, mainly because they live in the shadows, especially in cold places. Some are even rumored to lurk at Azkaban prison, but there isn't really any proof of that, and the Ministry would never confirm it even if there was.” He let his voice get bitter again at the mention of Azkaban and the Ministry. Harry's face showed understanding. Remus figured his should do the same.
“So, what do these Dark creatures have to do with the Order? D'you think Voldemort might try to get them to join his side?”
Remus still marveled at the fact that Harry said the name without the slightest twinge. It gave merit to the boy's inner strength. He was strong, like his parents had been. Remus decided to see just how strong he truly was, and dropped the bombshell on Harry.
“Voldemort created them.” He waited as Harry's eyes grew wide and his face went pale. The reaction most people got when they heard that, but Harry didn't gasp or shudder like so many did. He was silent, his attention riveted on Remus.
“He bred them, using various Dark creatures, experimenting until he had his desired results. A bit like Frankenstein, really. These things, these being, they live only to serve him. They know no emotion, no feeling. Their sole desire is to bring pain, suffering, misery, to anyone and everyone they can. We think there is something controlling them, something that stand between Voldemort and the monsters themselves, but we have no proof of anything. Just rumors. If you become their target, your life is essentially over. They never stop coming. You can kill as many as you like, they just keep coming and coming until their mission is fulfilled.”
“An army of creatures whom all fear,” Harry whispered. “This is what he meant. These things, he plans on unleashing them on us, doesn't he?”
“We think so.”
“Why now? Why hasn't he done it before?” Harry wondered.
“We don't know,” Remus sighed. “Its part of the mystery. Not even Dumbledore knows.”
“Dumbledore without a shrewd idea? I'm stunned,” Harry said. He almost smiled when he said it.
“Tell me about it,” Remus said lightly. They fell into silence yet again, but it wasn't so uncomfortable now. Each thought about the monsters Remus had described, and the effect they could have on the war.
“What're you two doing?”
Remus and Harry both jumped a mile; Remus' drink slipped from his hand and shattered, glass and drink covering the floor at his feet. He heard the boys talking, but they sounded miles away. Remus couldn't take his eyes off the glass, like glistening diamonds in the congealing red liquid. He remembered glass sparkling like this, but it had been in someone's hair then. He had thrown things at her, screamed at her. There had been glass on her arm, too. Her arm had been covered in blood because she refused to answer the call of her Master.
“LUPIN!” Harry was shaking his arm roughly, bringing him back to earth.
“Yes?” he said shakily.
“Are you alright?” Harry's eyes bore into his, demanding nothing but the truth. Dear Merlin, he really does have his mother's eyes. It had been impossible to lie to Lily when she looked at you like that.
He didn't trust his voice, but he nodded. Harry appeared satisfied and went to join Ron, who had been the one to scare them both.
“Come on, mate,” Ron yawned.
“I'm coming, I'm coming,” Harry said. “G'night,” he said over his shoulder to Remus. Ron yawned again and flapped his hand in Remus' general direction. Remus nodded to them both and watched as the door swung shut behind them. The door didn't block their voices, however. He heard Ron first.
“Who's Calista?” No. He must have spoken out loud during his little flashback.
“No clue,” he heard Harry say. “Lets just go to sleep.”
“Great plan. I'm exhausted.”
Remus listened to their voices grow faint as they went upstairs until he couldn't hear anymore. He would have to be more careful; he could not afford to let himself slip again. His eyes drifted back to the congealing red liquid on the floor and he felt his knees go weak.
His head sank into his hands as he fell back into his chair.
“Cal.” It was the cry of an eighteen-year-old boy still dying inside. “Oh, Cal.”
He wept.

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Chapter 3: Mizeria

It watched, not in a way any normal person could see, but It watched, letting itself travel hundreds of miles from where It stood, to the gloomy place in London where the werewolf and the silly boy talked. And what an interesting conversation It was observing. The man-beast knew about It's creatures, the ones the Master had given It. That did not bode well for their side. They would have to be taken care of.

It sighed and turned away from them for now. Behind It was one of It's precious creatures, already waiting for commands not yet given. It ran a bone-white hand through the creature's thick fur. The hair was so soft, not what you would expect on so dark a creature.

It looked at Its hand, tangled in the gray hair. It was almost as white as the Master was now, and It wasn't sure how it felt about that. It remembered before, what it was like to feel, really feel something, besides the black hate festering in Its belly. So long ago. . .

“Lupin and Potter need to be taken care of. And anyone else who resides in that house or travels in their company.” The voice that came back to Its ears was flat, dull, neither male nor female in its timbre.

The Mizeria would not let It down. The Master did not deal with them himself; he was rather content to let It do that work. It did not mind. After the wizards were conquered, and the Boy Who Lived became the One Who Was Dead, It would be raised to a plane of worship second only to the Master himself. . . . and It was very greedy.

* * * * *

~ 2 Weeks later ~

Remus didn't know how it had come to this, him standing with his wand alight and pointed towards the giant hulking creature with its hand around Hermione's throat, Harry in the arms of another one, screaming and clutching his now-crippled hand, Ron on the floor, still and unmoving, his already glassy eyes staring at nothing. The great beasts were all over the house, their great shadows rippling along the walls. Those horrible eyes were staring at him from every direction. He was surrounded, trapped by the Mizeria.

They had just been talking, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and himself, sitting in the drawing room. Harry actually seemed cheerful. They were just relaxing, the only ones in the house. Tonks and Snape were due to come by at any moment, but for now the four of them were just enjoying each other. They had all laughed at a silly joke of Ron's and when the laughter died he noticed the stillness. It seemed like the very air had been somehow holding its breath, waiting. . .

He didn't know how they found Grimmauld Place, or how they found their way in. All Remus knew was that when the doors burst open and the front windows blew in, curtains flapping and tearing away, they were in big trouble. He had ducked.

Ron had been sitting underneath the front windows, so when the first of the creatures climbed in, he didn't stand a chance. It came in and swung its arm into his head, knocking him to the floor. His head was facing backwards and Remus heard Hermione and Harry screaming Ron's name over the heavy breathing sounds from the monsters invading the room.

In a fury, Harry launched himself at the creature, but was caught in midair from behind by another one. Remus had been too far away, and he nearly screamed along with Harry when the creature jabbed a needle through Harry's hand. Hermione's screams had been choked off by a third one wrapping its hairy arms about her throat. Remus has his wand out in his trembling hand, sending a stunning spell towards the one that had taken Ron's life). The red light struck the creature on its chest, where it stayed, glowing for a moment, before it sank into the thing's flesh and was completely absorbed. Remus saw its face spread into a wicked grin, a spittle of drool dangling from the corner of its mouth before the room plunged into sudden darkness.

Now they were hulking shadows in the light of Remus' wand, the faceless monsters of a child's nightmares come to life. The wolf inside him was awake and very eager for a fight, even if he knew he could not win. His eyes darted around the room, counting. . .

There were more than a dozen of the Mizeria, and it sounded like more were roaming upstairs. Dumbledore's going to be so pissed. The thought sprang into his head, as strange thoughts often do at these times, and Remus found he could almost laugh. Ron was dead, the other children were hostages, and Remus wanted to laugh.

He saw one of the shadows crouch back on bulky legs and knew it was about to spring at him. He braced himself, ready for the worst, when he heard the creak of the front door opening.
The hallway began to glow with a pure, white light. The Mizeria were screaming, holding their arms up in front of their eyes and backing away. The light grew until it shined over everything. It was blinding in its brightness, but Remus kept his eyes open. The light was comforting; it filled him with a kind of warmth as it washed over him.

“Remus!” It was Tonks. The source of the light was coming from her wand, holding back the Mizeria as she rushed into the room. Tonks grabbed his arm, making sure to keep her wand out.

“Are you all right?” She cried over the screaming.

“I'm fine,” He yelled. “Get the kids!”

They turned around; Harry and Hermione had been dropped to the floor as their attackers backed away from Tonks' light, and now Hermione was bent over Harry, who was holding his hand and screaming.

“Merlin help us,” Tonks said in Remus' ear. They rushed forward and haled the kids off of the floor, Remus practically carrying Harry.

“We have to hurry,” Tonks yelled. “Snape is holding them back from the door, but more are coming. We have to go!”

“What about Ron?” Hermione cried out. She pointed, and Remus watched Tonks' face as she saw Ron's lifeless body. She looked back to Remus. Her face echoed his thoughts and he knew she couldn't say it.

“We can't help Ron anymore. We have to leave him,” Remus forced out.

“No!” Harry started screaming and struggling in Remus' arms, trying to force his way to Ron. Remus had quite the time holding onto him; Quidditch had made Harry stronger than he looked.

“We have to go, now!” Tonks helped Remus keep a hold on Harry, and together they moved into the hallway. Snape stood framed in the doorway, his own wand sending out the same light as Tonks'. Mizeria were everywhere, snarling at the little group from their places in the dark.

“We need a Portkey.” Even yelling, Snape managed to keep the distaste in his voice as he looked at Remus. Remus ignored it and nodded, grabbing a rusted silver candelabra from the hall table and forcing Harry out the door. As they passed by Snape, the Potions master leaned over and muttered into Remus' ear.

“Don't look behind you.”

Remus didn't need to. He could hear them just fine. As the light faded, the Mizeria crept closer and closer to them, and it was something he did not want to see. They were finally outside; he could hear the noises inside as Hermione and Tonks made their way out behind them.
He threw the candelabra on the ground, and, still holding onto Harry with one arm, pointed his wand and muttered the spell under his breath. The familiar blue light, the trembling, and the Portkey was ready to go.

“Come on!' he yelled at the others.

“No! Ron! Ron!” Harry was still screaming, and Remus had a severe moment of déjà vu. He wrapped both arms around Harry and held the struggling boy to him, determined that this time, he would not let go. Hermione picked up the candelabra and took her place next to Remus, tears streaming down her silent face. Tonks was next, the wandlight casting its rays along the street.

“Severus! Hurry!”

Snape slammed the door shut against the Mizeria and magically locked it from the outside. There were loud thuds as the creatures hammered against the door. Snape hurried down the steps to join them, casting anxious looks over his shoulder.

“That will not hold them for long. We have to go now,” he said urgently. He was right; already the door was denting outward with the force of their blows. He reached out one hand and touched to Portkey with his finger. Everyone followed suit, Remus forcing Harry's hand out in his own. Tonks put her arm around Hermione, the Mizeria broke through the door and sprang towards them, and then all was lost in the swirling darkness as the Portkey took them away.

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