A/N: Ah yes, only warning, I made up two spells here. They stink, `cause technically I didn't really make them up. One's an actual word. Anyway, enjoy.
Disclaimer: Are you kidding me? This isn't my stuff, or I'd be sitting in my nice house in Edinburgh surfing the net to see how my fans are faring waiting for the book to come out.
*****
Chapter Fifteen
Monday morning the Daily Prophet broke the news first: "The Man-Who-Triumphed Triumphs Again! Harry Potter Crushes "Lady Voldemort's War"!" Speculation filling the pages within ranged from whether "Lady Voldemort" was Bellatrix Lestrange or someone else, to why Harry Potter was not yet the head of the Auror Department. Witch Weekly yet again mentioned him in their Sexiest poll and The Quibbler made the claim first that the long-running Rotfang Conspiracy was involved with Lady Voldemort (Celestina Warbeck).
Apparently she had embedded messages in her music that were communiqués to her followers as well as a form or hypnosis to her listeners. Mrs Weasley Senior was barely on speaking terms with Aunt Luna for this.
I only cared for my father's letter that night, brought by an also excited Ophelia, which read cheerfully, "I've got him!" Only then could I smile in relief.
Tuesday, Rigel's birthday, I awoke to find that he'd finally delivered my gift: a t-shirt and collection of records from the new punk rock band AnGeVin! Their lead singer was a French-born half-Veela, whose name just happened to be Angevin, and they'd been sweeping the music charts of the Wizarding world for nearly two years now, almost for that alone. I couldn't help smiling; he knew that I loved their music and loathed their lead singer. I suspected he was having a similar reaction to the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes hamper and one month gift certificate I'd given him disguised in a long box on which `someone' had stamped "Quasar Mach I".
Uncles Fred and George had produced a special line of products just for him to use around Malfoy Manor when he got bored. If he liked it, they would introduce it for public sale with his name stamped on each product. The git would probably think it the best gift in the world based on that alone.
Wednesday was dull save for the painful start to the morning, which this time I quickly ended by making sure to take my Pain-Relieving Potion before I left the dormitory. Then that night Connor and I shared a rather enthusiastic, if not adventurous, snogging session in the library that ended only when we overheard Madam Pince scolding someone about her books three shelves over. After that we had a futile discussion over my lessons with the OGB, in which I outright asked him about his personal lessons with him and he refused to answer. I don't know why I let him get away with something that I usually tormented Rigel for, but I did. If Rigel ever found out he would really never speak to me again.
We'd barely settled down to breakfast Thursday morning when the owl post arrived by the literal thousands, and almost every owl that came in bore a copy of Úlfhéðnar: "The White Wolf". I made sure to wait until they arrived though, before going down to the Great Hall with the one Connor had given me. There was a moment of wild panic where I imagined that they'd changed the cover and we'd be discovered, but when I sat down I found that it was the same and smiled a little conspiratorial smile at Connor. He blushed, stifled a laugh and playfully put a finger to his lips, then put something on the table that howled, transformed itself into a man, walked over to me, turned back into a wolf and howled again. When I gasped, surprised, he whispered, "It's the first of the new merchandising line, the action figures. Uncle Dean sent over some samples this morning. It's yours, keep it."
I hesitated, "You can't keep giving me stuff for free."
He shrugged, "I want you to have it."
Reluctant still, I took up the little wolf and watched it turn itself into a man, who looked a bit like Connor, and back again in my palm. He looked at me worryingly a moment, and then I smiled and slipped it into my bag. The relieved smile on his face then was a bit much, but I did not comment, instead asking, "How's your Dad?"
His happy expression fell away, and he replied grimly, "He's fine, I think. He's all healed up and been taking the Wolfsbane potion for years, so they don't expect any real trouble. Plus, Professor Snape delivered his latest batch of the potion just this weekend, he said, and he's going to spend tonight locked in the basement."
"What about your Mum?" I asked, not liking the grim smile. Despite his upbeat words he was clearly worried.
At the mention of his mother though, his expression brightened once more, "She had another false alarm over the weekend, and she's going to spend all of today and some of tomorrow in St Mungo's. They told her to come in so they could monitor her in case the stress of Dad's condition gets to be too much."
"Well that's good, you might be able to hold your baby brother soon," I replied, smiling mischievously.
He scowled, "I'm sure it's a girl, absolutely sure of it."
"Whatever," I smirked. "You know, I hear there are boys named Zoe."
Friday a controversy made headlines. "The White Wolf = Harry Potter? As a Girl?" (The Daily Prophet) "Could Romulus Kveld-Ulf be a Hogwarts Student?" (The Evening Prophet) "Romulus Kveld-Ulf, Fenrir Greyback's Illegitimate Son!" (The Quibbler) "The White Wolf is Magnolia Potter! The Proof's in the Pages, say Fans!" (Witch Weekly) The WWN ran reports that summarised the rumours as thus: Upon reading the issue known as "The White Wolf" fans noticed some strange similarities between the first meeting of the white wolf and Faolán and the details of my first attack. Apparently Faolán had rescued Thora from being drowned by a rival actual wolf-pack like Camilla had rescued me from the two girls under the Imperius Curse. Add in Uncle Dean's slip about the title, and the description of the wolf, and an official statement by the Ministry within hours of the comic book's delivery that they wished to investigate how the author got information they hadn't released to press, and people began to wonder if the author was a Hogwarts student or staff member.
As soon as school let out at lunch, I found and dragged Connor out of the castle to talk. We went to the old bridge, for there weren't that many people there and I was no longer under Ministry watch since my father's arrest of Konstandin Rugova. Once the map assured us that we were alone, I said, "Do you think they'll find out it was you?"
He gave me a shrug, and looked away to the mountains. There was a white fog coming down again, Kimberly told me that while I was away there had been a particularly nasty two days where no one could leave the castle nor get their post because it was so bad. Down here the winds blew piercingly cold, and each blast, despite heating charms, felt as a knife-slash across our faces. Whatever was coming, it was going to be bad.
I asked, "Why'd you put me in it? I know you were going to introduce another character anyway, but I could ruin your career and-"
He cut me off when he reached out and took my hand. Though we were both wearing gloves I felt my hand tingling at his touch. I looked at him expectantly, he squeezed my fingers and replied, "Don't be melodramatic; you cannot single-handedly ruin my career. And besides, if someone finds out the truth I'm not particularly worried. Yes, it will destroy some of the `mystique' about me, but everyone says I've got a good story, and not very many fans, according to Uncle Dean, seem to care. They've already sent him hundreds of owls assuring him that they won't abandon me if they knew the truth."
"Are you sure you want to depend on that?" I asked. "That you can?"
He smiled, "I know I can. I've had these people for over three years now, they won't care. And anyway I expect this rumour to die down in a few days, or maybe even by tomorrow. I hear they've been interviewing some of the people associated with your Dad's recent mission. The new thing is Lady Voldemort, who might she be? Why did she have followers in Eastern Europe? Is Lord Voldemort really dead?"
My heart had seized the moment the words "Lady Voldemort" had left his lips and all the while he joked after I'd struggled to get my heartbeat back under control. When he stopped laughing to himself, I replied as lightly as I could manage, "Oh, what do they think? My Dad spared him and he left town to become the Fat Lady in a travelling circus?"
Connor laughed a little harder, and said, "I'm kind of curious as to who she might be too. Who is she, his wife? His secret illegitimate child? His sister?"
I laughed awkwardly; clearly I needed to work on my ability to keep secrets. I replied bravely still, "Yeah, probably. I mean, if you thought the brother was bad, wait till you see the sister! Sounds of fake screaming and people running away in terror...."
He stopped my laughter then by leaning over and kissing me lightly. I pulled away and said in mock-exasperation, "You can't keep doing that. It's starting to get on my nose-nerves! I said nerves!"
He laughed again, "Look at you all flustered, I like you flustered. Magnolia Potter, potentially very powerful and already rather intelligent witch, famously the daughter of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, undone by a kiss."
"Well," I admitted unblushingly, "if you're the one kissing me... I can't think straight sometimes...."
With a broad smile he kissed me again.
Saturday the Daily Prophet published their interview, effectively silencing the "White Wolf" controversy, but opening up a new one that set me sending furtive, worrying looks Camilla's way every time I was in range of her. If Connor noticed I was distracted he did not mention it, it gave him free time to do his homework and catch up on his sketching. He was almost finished with the new issue but would not tell me anything.
I did my best to ignore the feeling of irrational annoyance that he really did believe that I could ruin his career.
That night with the OGB we reviewed werewolves and he gave me an introduction to the Dark Arts that began, "All magic can be used to harm, the term the "Dark Arts" refers to magic though, that is used specifically for that purpose. All Spells, Potions, Creatures and Objects that exist solely for the physical and mental injury or death of others are classified as such. However there is a problem with this definition. One can use the Tickling Charm like the Cruciatus Curse if one has the will and creative imagination. Hogwarts does not teach the Dark Arts of course, but provides an introduction to aspects of it and then teaches you to defend yourself. I will never admit to it, and you will not say it outside of this room, but Remus Lupin had generally had the right idea when it came to teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. In order to protect oneself effectively one should have more than a general knowledge of what one is up against. One might say those with an intimate knowledge of what they're going to face are best prepared, like your Charlie Weasley lives among dragons to handle them."
This made me nervous. I asked, "We're not going to actually meet a werewolf, vampire or Red Cap are we?"
He actually smiled.
Sunday morning I spent with Rigel, Aisling and Hortense, though not by choice. As Connor and I had walked down to breakfast that morning, Uncle Neville had come running over to us with a message: Aunt Tonks had finally gone into labour overnight and demanded that Connor come to the hospital that morning. He was so excited he nearly forgot to tell me goodbye as he hurriedly left with Uncle Neville.
I had continued on my way to the Great Hall then, I was hungry really, but Aisling got to me first and I soon found myself being hurried away to the library where Rigel and Hortense were awaiting us, looking anxious. And as soon as I was seated with them, Rigel asked, "Did Connor just get the news?"
I lifted an eyebrow, "Is it untrue?"
"No, it's true, but they haven't told us anything. We were hoping that you'd known," replied Rigel.
I narrowed my eyes at him, "What happened? Grandmother away at the moment?"
As blithely as usual, "They found the leak, shame. Anyway, didn't they tell him what she had?"
I shook my head. "Uncle Neville just told him that she'd gone into labour and that she wants him to come over."
"Oh... I've got ten Galleons on a boy, as do Hortense and Aisling at two Galleons each, what do you think?" asked Rigel, pulling out a sheet of parchment that revealed, on inspection, that much of the family had made bets. Big spenders that they were, most had bet on "Boy", but my father had twenty Galleons on "Girl".
I grinned and replied, "Girl, five Galleons."
When Connor returned around mid-afternoon, the others actually went all the way to Gryffindor Tower to shove me out to meet him first. The broad grin on his face said it all. He came running up the stairs, tripping over himself, to tell me, "It's a girl! Her name's Zoe Faye Lupin, she weighs half a stone, and she's got black hair and Mum's eyes. She's beautiful!"
Rigel, Hortense and Aisling's collective groan of protest behind me almost registered a sonic boom. Startled, Connor looked round me to them and asked, his eyes smirking, "I'm guessing they all lost the bet."
I nodded, grinning brightly, before we both dissolved into laughter.
Monday was a dull day of school as usual. I went to classes, did homework, chatted with Kimberly and Aisling about nothing, bantered with Rigel over his birthday gift, went to duelling practice with Camilla and then spent an hour before bedtime with Connor.
Tuesday morning in Care of Magical Creatures, the happy illusion came to a dramatic end.
The fog was drawing closer, and on its heels a furious storm was brewing. We'd be trapped in school for days from the looks of things, and here we were with a Quidditch match coming up soon. The first match was going to be Slytherin versus Hufflepuff and I was going to risk being ostracised by my Housemates to cheer Rigel, as usual. Or at least, once those three Galleons he'd given me did not turn out to be Leprechaun gold.
He'd done that once, and though the hex I'd used had him wearing a balaclava and some of Hortense's face powder for a week, he was nothing if not persistent.
Aisling and I walked down to Professor Hagrid's hut watching our breath mist white before us and listening to Eoin and classmates discussing the "White Wolf", my Dad's mission and Lady Voldemort, and not necessarily separately. Eoin had been keeping his distance from me since the school year began. Whether to protect himself or for fear that I would humiliate him for the way he'd treated me before, I couldn't care less. Whatever he was thinking he thought best to keep to himself anyway.
Professor Hagrid wasn't beside his hut when we got down to it though. As a matter of fact, unusual for him, he was nowhere to be seen with the front door to the hut wide open. No one else seemed to be bothered by this though, so I joined in the ranks of those wondering if he'd popped out to track down some injured creature in the forest and was in such a hurry that he'd forgotten the door. Then Aisling took the initiative to walk over and shut it, also taking care to look around for him in case he'd actually fallen asleep with the door open, or maybe Fang had left it so, and finding no one, closed the door heavily. When she came back down to me she asked, "Do you think I should give in to the false hope that he forgot about us altogether."
I shook my head. "Hagrid, forget us? Are you kidding? How could he ever forget his favourite pastime: giving us reason not to date giants in future?"
She laughed and then stopped, looking past me in confusion. I turned at once, following her gaze, just as Professor Hagrid appeared at the edge of the forest with a curiously-shaped creature. It looked like someone had gotten mixed up while they were assigning body parts and placed the upper torso of a hawk or eagle unto the lower torso of a horse or donkey. Then, to complete the mutation, they'd had the audacity to add wings. The result was undeniably ugly, and not very many could conceal their shock and slight revulsion.
Professor Hagrid though, as usual, was beaming. He greeted us brightly, "Lillie should know this one. This, lads and lasses, is a hippogriff, which is what we're going to be studying today."
Well, I knew it was a hippogriff, but it sure wasn't pretty to look at up close.
He continued, "Now be careful about hippogriffs, strong as an ox and easily offended. You mustn't approach one if yer don't know how... take yer head clean off, they would."
We all took a collective step backwards.
"But the approach is easy to remember. You just walk on over, maintain a safe distance and bow. If he doesn't go lunging for your head, it's safe to go closer," he finished, still beaming.
I took one long look at the hippogriff and decided against volunteering myself. And to ensure that I wasn't volunteered, made sure to take an extra backwards that would set me firmly at the back of the group and lost among the others. Professor Hagrid though, volunteered someone else, Eoin, to be the first sacrificial victim.
"Mr Finnegan, why don't you show the others how it's done?" he called, after a moment of searching our anxious (frightened) faces.
Eoin looked on the verge of collapse, but his friends, in the name of self-preservation, shoved him ahead. Aisling laughed out loud, and I with her, but when he turned to glare at me he surprisingly adopted a goofy half-smile for her. My jaw dropped immediately and then I had to cough to stifle my laughter. I could not believe it, Eoin liked Aisling. Since when? I'd clearly missed a lot over the winter break.
No thanks to Konstandin Rugova the berk, of course.
Ignoring the dark thoughts this usually broached, I looked again to find Eoin now giving a nervous, awkward bow to the hippogriff. I allowed myself to picture the hippogriff suddenly running forward and snapping him in half, but all it did was bow back. Anti-climatic that was.
Professor Hagrid began to speak, "Well then, you can feed her now."
Though we couldn't see his face from his stance it was clear that Eoin had no such intention. As a matter of fact it seemed that he would prefer to rejoin us looking on. I nudged Aisling, when she looked back at me I arched an eyebrow at her and nodded in his direction. She looked confused for a moment, then smiled and called, "Yeah Eoin, let's see you feed it!"
As if her call had startled him, he gave a funny sort of jerk and then began walking stiltedly towards Professor Hagrid and the hippogriff. Aisling and I could barely contain our laughter, it was cruel, but oh-so-funny, too funny, considering the way he'd treated me, and her, before.
But Eoin, lucky for him, would not get to feed the hippogriff. Nor would we get to finish our class. For at that moment, the world came to a standstill when someone screamed.
We all looked to the direction it had come from, and very nearly screamed as well. Something, about the size of a child, its skin scaly yellow-green, its back a tortoise-shell, and its face monkey-like with what looked like a bowl of water on it's head, was walking determinedly out of the lake and towards the girl who'd screamed, a small Ravenclaw First Year. Professor Hagrid identified it as he yelled for us to get away, "Run! Everybody get back into the castle, that's a Kappa!"
"There are Kappas in the Black Lake?" shrieked Eoin, terrified, starting to take off at once. I could assure him that lost him Aisling's attention, if he'd managed to seize it in the first place.
"Don't be silly, there are no Kappas in the Black Lake!" called someone else.
"Then where did that come from?" Eoin demanded, swinging round to the person.
Without hesitation, all eyes flicked to me. I looked at them all, shaking my head, protesting, "Dad caught the person responsible! It was that-that that Rugova person, this isn't my fault! I'm sure of it, Dad caught the person!"
Professor Hagrid, who was already on his way down to the girl, running with more speed than we thought it was possible for him to have, called back, "That don't matter now, get back into the castle! Get Professor Bones and the Headmistress! Go, now! GO!"
We didn't need to be told again. We all turned and ran pell-mell back up the castle. Some began screaming before they reached the bottom step, startling classes of Fourth and Seventh Years in the greenhouses and causing Argus Filch, who had apparently been in the area, to peer out the castle doors. Then Aisling caught a stitch and slowed down. I couldn't leave her, I stopped as well and went back to help her, just catching sight of Professor Hagrid running with the girl on his shoulder back to the castle. But the Kappa was well out of the lake and hot on their heels and there was no one to help them anymore. The Aurors were really all gone, and given the way the OGB had spoken of Professor Bones, I was struck with the horrifying thought that she might not be much use.
Then Aisling stopped us altogether, tapping me urgently on the shoulder and gasping, "No, no! Stop stop-stop! I can't run anymore, my side hurts too much!"
"This isn't the time!" I nearly yelled at her.
"I can't move!" she yelled back.
I watched some of the Seventh Years, Hufflepuffs, race down from the greenhouses and set up a line to repel the Kappa, shooting off multiple brilliantly-coloured Stunners, Reducto and Impedimenta, with barely a break between the time the spell left their wand tips and the commands left their lips again. But nothing worked, this was a Dark Creature and therefore there was a specific method to getting rid of it. I wracked my brain, trying to remember what was written about them in my Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them textbook. Since the OGB was insistent that we study werewolves first, we hadn't gotten round to them yet, and though we'd gone over them with Professor Bones in class I'd been rather sleepy that day and....
I stopped and called as loudly as I could, "You have to spill the water! You have to make it spill the water on its head!"
No one heard me. The electric-bolt sound of their spells hitting and rebounding off of the Kappa's unbelievably tough skin too loud for them to know that I was there. I had to tell them though; I had to warn them, if the Kappa got hold of any one of them they'd be drowned for sure.
Without thinking that I was just playing into the hands of my deranged killer, I side-stepped Aisling and raced down to the Seventh Years, calling as loudly as I could, "You have to spill the water! You have to spill the water!"
Before I was with them someone grabbed me by the waist. I screamed, and then turned to find Rigel behind me, the Fourth Years were Slytherins. I struggled against him, calling still, "We have to warn them, they have to spill the water from its head! If they don't get it to spill the water on its head it'll just keep coming!"
He released my waist to grasp my shoulders firmly, "They know that, that's what they're trying to do Magnolia! They're trying to do that!"
I turned away from him back to the Seventh Years still fighting the Kappa. "It's not working; whatever they're doing it isn't working!"
But just then Professor Bones and the OGB came, racing out of the castle, with at least five others, heading down to the lake edge where the Seventh Years stood losing the battle against the Kappa. It was just within range of the smallest of the lot, a boy with strawberry-blonde hair who stood as tall as he could before it anyway. I wanted to run down and wrench him away from its reach, but the OGB got there first, calling out forcefully, "Repellere! Aridisi!"
The Kappa was knocked off its webbed feet, but as it made to rise again, the second spell hit it and the water on its head evaporated. It didn't wait to be hit by Professor Bones' Stunner, it immediately bolted back to the lake. She got it just before it got to the water's edge, breaking through the ice like it'd done to come up in the first place, but its Stunned body fell through anyway. Then within moments we saw it emerge far down the lake, in a weaker section of the ice, and take a spectacular dive whilst the merpeople darted out of its way, sending a frantic flurry of bubbles to the surface.
The attack was over though, and so we could all take a few minutes in absolute silence to register what was happening. One thing being perfectly clear: Konstandin Rugova might have been captured, but he was not responsible for the attacks on me. This was not over. And once it sunk in, the OGB turned, spied me with Rigel, marched over to us and roughly pulled me from his grasp.
Rigel and I both protested, "Hey!"
Ignoring us, he said, leading me away, "The Headmistress is out, you're not leaving the castle again until we speak with her."
From our first shout of protest all eyes had fallen on us, and now I could almost literally feel them as I was dragged, struggling feebly, to the castle steps. I couldn't go quietly though, and rather lamely I protested, "But I have Herbology classes!"
He stopped and swung me before him, then bent slightly and said in a low, threatening voice, "There is someone trying to kill you! Wake up! There is no Herbology, no Care of Magical Creatures, no Quidditch, no Hogsmeade weekends, and no romantic strolls on the grounds for you until we catch that person! If you're dead you can't have those either, can you?"
"No sir, but-" I insisted, not entirely sure why I was doing it but unable to stop myself.
"But what? What part of that don't you understand you silly little girl?" demanded the OGB, glowering at me. "What don't you get?"
"But sir, I-" I protested still, trying to come up with an answer while doing my best to ignore the burning round my eyes and the tightening of my throat. I was not going to break down and cry in front of more than half the school and the OGB. I was not.
He shook me forcefully, violently, until I cried out and Professor Sprout called, alarmed, "Severus!"
He ignored her, "Do you want to die, Miss Potter? Is that what you want to do? Face reality and grow up! You're not a little girl anymore; your father can't protect you from everything. He himself told you that! There is someone trying to kill you!"
At this point I couldn't control the tears. His face before me blurred as they pooled in my eyes and raced down my cheeks, burning my wind-bruised face, and a sob escaped my lips. Yet still he yelled.
"Is death what you want Miss Potter? Death? There is no coming back from that, none! Your breath stops, your heart stops, your body goes cold and your soul vanishes to nothingness! Is that so desirable to you? There is nothing that you can do when you're dead Lily! Nothing!"
He stopped suddenly and released me as if burned. I stopped crying too, and hurriedly wiped my eyes to stare at him open-mouthed, shocked. No one else would have noticed it from the distance, but I, up close, had heard the slight inflection that changed my name. He had never called me "Lillie" before, never, and now that he'd said it I had a feeling I knew why. He wasn't speaking to me.
Offering neither apology nor explanation though, he stood then, grasped my arm, gentler this time, and marched me into the castle with him through the silent, wide-eyed stares of the others. I looked determinedly at my shoes, until we were at the door and someone came running over and seized me into their arms. By his scent alone, of paper, pencil shavings and curiously, of the intermingled smells that arose in the steam of the Potions classroom, I recognised Connor and wrapped my arms around him and allowed myself to cry again. The OGB made no attempt to separate us, but kept us walking to the stairs, presumably on the path to the Headmistress' office anyway. I didn't care where we were going, there was nowhere safe here that I could hide.
Rigel's words echoed in my head then: "Listen, they might say that Hogwarts is the safest place to be but your father was attacked in this school numerous times, his Headmaster was murdered here, do you really want to throw caution to the wind because they say you're safe?"
Not anymore.
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