FS18
A/N: Sorry for the prolonged update…unfortunately real life got in the way, and I had to postpone this update…but without further ado, here it is…enjoy!
Chapter XVIII:
He knew it, he knew it very well. The damn book was cursed. Cursed! How had he not foreseen it, and let the two closest people to him become affected! Harry paced back and forth around the living room in high agitation, internally berating himself about his stupidity. They could die, and it'll be my fault! How bloody stupid could I be! Those thoughts raced through his mind, and any attempt on part of the others to reason with him was fruitless; as was typical for an angry Harry, he had closed himself off to the world.
Madam Pomfrey had no arrived in no less excitement. Without greeting the company, she asked to be taken to the ailing patients, and dashed off at once after Remus. Since then, two pregnant hours had passed, with no word from above - the Healer had explicitly forbidden to be disturbed while she worked, and only Mrs. Weasley had been permitted to assist her.
"What is happening up there?" Harry kept muttering to himself as he paced, looking with concentration at the floor.
"Harry, sit down," Remus told him, ashen faced, "You're not the only one who's nervous here."
The black-haired wizard only glared indignantly at Remus, and then looked away just as quickly. "I'll do as I please, Remus," he offered curtly.
Gazing sadly at his dead friend's godson, the werewolf sighed deeply, and resigned himself to morbid silence. Outside, the clouds had grown darker, and a distant rumble of thunder sounded. Raindrops started to fall, hard and fast, against the windows. Soon, the wind began to gather intensity, and a few fallen leaves were suddenly carried in the air. By all accounts, a storm was brewing, but it only succeeded in dampening the spirits inside Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, even more…
Suddenly, the floor above creaked, as the immediately recognizable quick steps of Madam Pomfrey sounded. Eyes looked up at the ancient ceiling, following the sound, and Harry was the first to dash to the bottom of the staircase, in the instance when the medical witch was already coming down.
He stared up at her expectantly, impatience written on his face. "Well?"
"Calm yourself, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey rejoined in her dignified tones. "They will live."
"What's wrong with them?" Harry's alarm had not subsided, and coming up behind him, Remus put a hand on his shoulder.
Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath, and looked down at the floor, trying to gather her thoughts. Her aged face creased as she concentrated.
"Harry, see," her voice softened, but she didn't pull her eyes up, "you don't realize how close to dying Ron and Hermione were."
"I know it was the damned book - "Harry spoke rashly, but Madam Pomfrey raised a hand stop him.
She studied him intently for several long seconds. "What do you know about the book?" she asked him quietly.
"It's cursed, that's what," Harry seethed. "This Order of Merlin business…"
"Mr. Potter," Poppy reverted to her stern tone, "the curse placed on that book is incredibly rare, and more powerful than the Cruciatus curse in its ability to impose suffering."
"What?" Harry was flabbergasted by the explanation; he had not seen Hermione and Ron visibly subjected to pain.
"Exhaustion," Madam Pomfrey went on, as if it was supposed to be obvious. "Reading that book drains the reader of their life and magical abilities, and it is charmed to be a captivating read, which merely translates into certain death."
"Then how- " the latter attempted to argue, without fruition.
"I have a hypothesis for that, but nothing more," Madam Pomfrey replied.
"You don't know what I was going to ask," Harry told her pointedly.
"Mr. Potter, you will eventually learn that experience is the best teacher," the mediwitch chastised him. "Now, the reason I believe neither one was killed, is because Mr. Weasley must have been too distant to focus sufficiently on the book, and as for Hermione, she somehow fainted, which allowed her to retain enough of a life force within her to be saved."
Regardless of her stern air, Harry could see that Madam Pomfrey was as relieved as he was for the fortunate turn of events.
"Thank you," he declared, elated, and without a second thought, embraced Madam Pomfrey tightly.
"Oh!" she was startled by his action, but quickly regained her composure. "Anything for you, Harry," she whispered so only he could hear.
Voldemort's vanquisher released her, and the smile did not fall from his face.
"Now," she instructed, glancing at Harry and addressing the room in general. "Hermione and Ron need plenty of rest, because they have been largely sapped of their strength. Warm meals, close supervision, and should any problems arise, contact me immediately."
"Will do," Remus ascertained quickly. "Thank you again, Poppy."
"It was my duty, Remus," she answered him solemnly, as he escorted her to the front door.
"Well, yes," the latter replied in an undertone, and then he purposefully looked around to assure privacy, once they reached the front door. "Are there any news from Hogwarts, Poppy?" he asked insistently.
Madam Pomfrey bit her lip and looked up at Remus with frustration. "You know how it is, Remus. Hogwarts is very sensitive to what is happening around it, and these attacks have not escaped unnoticed. There's certainly more caution, and the Hogesmeade visits were reduced from three, to just one this year."
"That's definitely not good," Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, Poppy, take care and we'll see you later. Be safe."
"Certainly," the latter gave him a pointed look, and stepped out in the now gentle rain. "Goodbye for now."
Remus closed the door after her with a click, and sighed deeply. If not for Madam Pomfrey's timely intervention, two of the most important members of the Order could have died. Death was a constant companion, and this was another reminder about how dangerous the task they had set for themselves was.
And further, the resurrection spell that their evil opponent was after was in itself not ideal, for applying it repeatedly also carried dangerous implications, which were unpredictable in the case of Harry, Hermione and Ron; they were the three most important people that needed to be protected from dying prematurely.
**
The recovery of the patients took several days, and even then, it was not easy. Hermione was the more severely afflicted of the two, and her progress towards better health was slower. For two days, she did not wake up, and Madam Pomfrey visited her during the nights to ensure she was recuperating properly. Ron, on the other hand, had awoken by the second day, and despite being slightly disoriented and confused, was otherwise stable and conscious.
Finally, by the third day, the redhead was up and around, rapidly regaining his strength. Hermione had raised herself from the depths of sleep for an hour or so, and had quickly returned to her slumber. Madam Pomfrey had ensured Harry she would recover in time, but that lessened his worries little, and was quite anxious to see her well soon.
"Mate, you seem to have not slept in days," Ron said that morning, observing Harry keenly. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Harry snapped dismissively, waving a hand irritatingly. "Leave me be, will you?"
His best friend quirked an eyebrow, "Sorry, Harry, I won't leave you be until you tell me what's wrong with you."
Harry snapped a fierce gaze in Ron's direction, and sighed, before letting his eyes fall. "It's Hermione," he replied quietly. "She's been out cold for too long now."
"You heard Madam Pomfrey," Ron attempted to reason with him. "She said Hermione would improve, and I'm sure of it. She even woke up today."
"I know, I know," Harry rejoined impatiently, "but that doesn't stop me from worrying."
Ron understood what Harry had meant as an undercurrent. "Look, Harry," he said tensely. "There is no guarantee one, some, or even all of us won't perish by the end of this, but it would help to be a little optimistic."
"Ron, listen to yourself," Harry laughed coldly, "what part of this seems optimistic to you?"
"I'm up, am I not?" he answered, "I thought you would be happy," he added ironically.
"Believe me, I am," Harry smiled, genuinely this time, "but I'm just too worried…this was too close a call for comfort, and I just don't know when another misfortune befalls us, that it won't be fatal."
"You worry too much, mate," Ron observed. "Have a cup of tea…it'll calm your nerves."
Ron waved his wand and a porcelain mug shot from the cupboard, flew to the kettle, and within a few seconds, it was sitting, full of the warm tea, in front of Harry.
"Thanks," the latter muttered appreciatively, and glancing quickly at Ron, took a sip. Indeed, the warmth of the tea did producing a calming effect…
"She'll be fine, Harry," Ron said for the umpteenth time. "It's taking a little while, is all, and I have no doubt we'll finish this whole affair in one piece."
Harry only grunted an indistinguishable response, and focused his eyes on the table, burying himself in deep thought.
**
"You fools!" Bellatrix raged on, as two masked Death Eaters cowered at her feet. "You were supposed to recover the book, not let it be taken away from you so easily! Insufferable idiots, that's all you are!"
"Mistress - " one tried to reason by defending himself, but his attempt was futile, as a second later, he lay dead on the floor.
"You only speak when I request you to," Bella cold, quiet voice came through clenched teeth. "Is that clear?"
"Certainly, most definitely," the remaining Death Eater stuttered his assent quickly, not even daring to raise his head.
"Good," she replied, slightly more easily, and went on, conversationally even. "Yet, I cannot seem to rid myself of the incompetence that surrounds me. Every assignment I hand out, it turns out botched, by idiots such as yourself. I pray, what would be the cost of having Death Eaters who can actually perform one task completely, without failing!"
The pitch in her voice had risen again, and her eyes glinted with unbridled maliciousness. "You realize," she rejoined after a minute's thought, "that I already have an idea of how to excite better results. Would you support my idea?"
"Yes, Mistress," the Death Eater whispered, his tone quavering and raspy.
"Excellent then," Bella smiled sadistically, and raising her wand, she pointed it at the misfortunate Death Eater. "Avada Kedavra!"
Immediately, he keeled over on his back, and the mask fell away from his face. Two empty brown eyes stared up at the ceiling, while Bellatrix Lestrange's maniacal grin only widened.
Slowly, she made her way to the doors of her vast chamber, and opened them. The hinges cried painfully, but she did not seem to mind.
"Avery, Nott," she directed the two Death Eaters that were standing there, awaiting orders. "Take these bodies, and fasten them to the wall of the meeting room. From now on, failure is punishable by death."
"Yes, Mistress," Avery agreed right away, and set on to the assigned task, with Nott following closely behind him.
They dragged the bodies behind them, and once they were out of earshot, looked at one another with incredulity.
"She's mad, I tell you," Avery whispered passionately. "Voldemort, at least, he was more sensible when it came to punishment."
"Yes," Nott agreed. "If you remember, he did not kill for failure. Makes you think we have a scatter-brained leader…she might be losing her marbles, no?"
"I don't want to imagine," Avery answered, shivering visibly. "She is a monster, Nott, I tell you."
"Come on now, and Voldemort was not?" Nott countered him. "The mistress is bent on ridding the world of Mudbloods, and you know that. Only, she is supposed to have something Voldemort didn't, which will ensure her immortality…"
"Is why I'm worried," Avery replied quietly. "We've been involved a long time, but we could be dead tomorrow for all we know…you know, join the buggers we're dragging right now…"
The two of them reached the meeting room, and stepped inside. Dark and devoid of life, it was a welcome respite from the tension they had been subjected during the day, simply for the reason that it was empty, and Bellatrix was not close around. So, they set about their grim and disturbing task without a word.
Avery placed preservation charms on the carcasses, and charmed two hammers and a box of nails from thin air. "This is so wrong," he muttered, as he surveyed where on the wall they should fulfill Bella's wishes.
"How about we forget about this, and make a break for it," Nott asked apprehensively and quietly, "I was willing to work under Voldemort, but she's damn right out of her mind…maybe we could escape to the continent?"
"Mate, you're out of your mind," Avery chastised him, as he placed a permanent sticking charm on his assigned body, and placed it spear-eagled against the wall. "You know very well that we'll be dead even before we reach the Channel."
"Then what is there to do?" Nott asked him, as he imitated Avery's treatment with his corpse.
"Absolutely nothing," came the resigned reply, as the angry sounds of the hammer driving a nail carried a moment later.
Without saying a word, Nott joined in the grisly activity they were currently engaged in, and hurried to finish quickly.
"What are yer idiots doing in the dark?" a gruff voice suddenly asked from the hallway; it was one of the well-known greasy lieutenants of Bella's, responsible for overseeing the intelligence missions, and reportedly being involved with her on a more than professional basis…
"That's none of your business, Rockwood," Nott snapped, without turning around. "Why don't you go - "
Avery had kicked him in the shins. "Don't push it," he warned in an undertone.
"Go and do what?" Rockwood mocked him cruelly, "You'll watch your tongue, or you'll join those bastards on the wall. I trust you don't want that, eh, Nott?"
"No, sir," the object of the lieutenant's ire spat the last word through clenched teeth. "Certainly not"
"Good then," Rockwood replied, and stood there, intimidating, for a few awkward seconds, before shuffling out of sight.
"Bastard," Nott muttered under his breath.
"Keep your hat on," Avery tried to placate him, "that he is a rat, there's no doubt, but there is no need to provoke him."
"Speak for yourself," the latter snapped once again. "I want the seniority we had under Voldemort."
"Hey, times have changed, and there is no returning to the old days," Avery rejoined, "Though I would be happy to see them again. Now, if we are smart and careful, we can turn this in our favour."
"What are you on about?" Nott inquired skeptically.
"Will you bloody listen?" Avery was on tenterhooks himself. "Don't interrupt me."
"Fine," the other answered quickly. "Make haste, won't you?"
"Yes, yes," Avery said, looking behind his back. "We'll do just as Severus Snape did once. You remember him, don't you?"
"Of course…strange chap, he was…" Nott muttered reminiscently.
"Well, that's our ticket to freedom." Avery continued convincingly. "We play the double agent game, but ultimately for the purpose of defeating Lestrange."
"Are you mad!" Nott was incredulous. "That is the equivalent of a death sentence."
"Keep calm, damn it," the former whispered urgently, "it is, if we are uncovered, but if we succeed, we can claim working against her, and that way avoid persecution. Think about it, which way is better, do you think?"
Nott was about to say something, but thought better of it, and closed his mouth. "You are right," he conceded, after another minute's pondering. "I, too, have no desire to die, serving the interests of a madwoman."
"It's settled then," Avery finalized the mission. "We keep up and appearances, and join the side of the Light."
"I don't believe we are doing this," Nott shook his head, "but I am willing. Here's to a pact of complete secrecy."
"Complete secrecy," Avery echoed him, nodding, "and we start as soon as possible. Tonight, with the surveillance mission we are supposed to be on."
"Alright," Nott agreed, "what have you planned."
"That we tell Harry Potter it is Bellatrix Lestrange who is trying to kill him. We are supposed to watch east London tonight, and if we see him, we have to let him know, discreetly."
"Directly, you mean?"
"No, no," Avery said quickly, "any direct contact will cost us our lives. We do that indirectly."
"A relative, perhaps…"
"Quiet," Avery hushed him quickly, and straightened up. "Someone's coming."
They recognized the anxious walk of Bellatrix out in the hallway, and she was quite possibly coming forth to check on the request she had placed on her two Death Eaters.
"Mistress!" Avery declared, sinking to his knees when she appeared in the doorway, and the chamber was flooded in light. "Your wishes have been carried out!"
Nott had also kneeled, and looked down towards the floor with burning eyes. "All carried out, Mistress," he repeated faintly.
"Excellent, excellent," Bella said grandiosely, her eyes glinting at the unsettling sight of the two lifeless, limp bodies, nailed against the wall.
She seemed lost in a trance for a full minute, staring straight ahead, fulfilling her hunger for death. "Now," she turned back to her kneeling servants surprisingly, "you two have an important mission tonight."
"Yes, mistress," Avery assured her, nodding vigorously.
"You are to seek out any sign of Harry Potter, or anyone he may be associating with, understood?" she went on passionately.
"Yes, yes, definitely," Nott was quick to respond this time.
"Off you go, and do not return without a good result," Bella instructed them shortly, and without a further glance at them, swept down the hall hurriedly.
"Come on," Nott motioned to Avery, as they rose to their feet, and prepared to apparate.
It was a cool night and rather calm too. Not a lot of activity was going on, as it was a late hour already, and the two spies, anxious about their recent conversion, feverishly thought about a way to reach Harry. Aside from that, it was highly doubtful they would find any trace of the Order of the Phoenix tonight…
"What of that werewolf," Nott observed in the silence, "you remember him?"
"Oi, yeah," Avery replied wonderingly, "Lupin, I think he was called…"
"Wasn't he in our year at Hogwarts?" Nott asked with more conviction, as long-forgotten memories re-surfaced.
"I - I think so," Avery rejoined convincingly, "You know -"
Nott, however, was already ahead of him. "Send him an anonymous letter, to tell him," he said, "He is close to Potter, so he's bound to tell him."
"Aye, good, my thought exactly," Avery affirmed feverishly. "We write a letter to Remus Lupin."
A/N: Will they be caught? Yes, no, maybe? Stick around to find out…I'll try to make the updates more regular from now on…
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