A/N: Apologies for the delay - and Happy New Year (in advance) to you all! Anyway, thank you all so much for the response for the last chapter, for the reviews, and just for reading (as always longer thanks are at the end!). Hope you'll enjoy it.
She could still turn and run. It wasn't as if they'd be able to catch her – being a daddy long legs was useful for some things at least - even if they failed you when it mattered most. Maybe if she'd wake up and realise it was all a dream, a horrific nightmare, nothing more. Or if she made it out of the tunnel, the Shack, it wouldn't be real, it wouldn't happen. Or maybe it was all a stupid prank, concocted by the Marauders – it wasn't real, this wasn't happening to her.
The dark pressed against her, clutching at from all sides, narrowing inexorably, the tunnel growing narrower and narrower, she'd never be able to stay in here…a soft whimper interrupted her thoughts, drawing her back to reality - who was making that noise? With sudden clarity she realised that she was and she forced herself to stop, swallowing the pitiful mewing noises.
"I'm fine." She whispered, more to herself, than to any nearby listeners, regretting her pride, wishing someone, anyone, had insisted on walking with her – but McGonagall had pressured Remus into bowing to Dorcas' wishes, and so they walked ahead, not too far, but far enough.
Far enough for the dark to creep up on her, and the tunnel walls to suddenly shrink in the gloom. Far enough for their footsteps to be faint imaginings, when really she was alone, far enough that…
Who was she? She could conquer her fear – she was a Gryffindor, she should start acting like one, a small voice urged her, but it was drowned under her increasing terror, fear of her situation and fear of what was to come merging to bury what little pride and dignity she had left, driving all common sense from her mind.
Her breath was coming in sharp, panicky gasps as she wrestled with her panic about as successfully as a lion tamer facing a hundred of the beasts. Her fists clenched unconsciously, her walk slowing to a crawl – could she run and make it in time?
Soft golden light filtered into the library, the fading sun giving the books – and the readers – a golden cast, but for once the occupants of the window seats weren't feverishly turning pages.Hermione couldn't tear her eyes away from the window and the quickly vanishing sun, couldn't help but wonder what was going on – they'd surely be in the Shack by now. Both Lily and Alice had struggled to continue their research, but had failed miserably, and had joined Hermione in the window, in a united silence.
She'd burnt Enid's letters as directed, before scourgifying the ashes – if someone ever recovered them it would be a miracle. She'd read them through enough times to memorise the contents anyway. They hadn't been particularly indicative of anything much - it seemed she was back to the drawing board.
She twisted her hair round her finger absent-mindedly as the library lights flickered to life. She couldn't get rid of the idea swirling round at the back of her mind, that nagged her now, something she knew would help her, might even solve their troubles. Why couldn't she remember it? It was frustrating, to have the answer nearly within her grasp, but just out of reach. It was in a book – she was sure of that, but it wasn't any book in the library – Merlin knew the four of them had devoured enough books over the past month – so it had to be one she'd read in her old time, published after 1976.
Unfortunately, that gave it plenty of scope, given the number of books she'd read in her third year. The light outside was fading steadily, barely a crack of light spilling over the horizon. It would be any moment now, any moment now. Poor Dorcas – this was all her fault – she bit her lip, silently squirming. Dorcas was never meant to have been a werewolf – she had to find this answer, for Dorcas' and Remus' sake, as much as for that of her conscience.
"Just relax." Remus whispered, giving her an awkward one armed hug. "Don't clench your fists – you'll tear your hands to shreds if you do that."
Dorcas sucked in a deep breath, forcing herself to relax her tense muscles and unclench her fists. It took effort – they'd been clenched for practically the entire afternoon, but she managed it, flexing her hands – she couldn't help the thought crossing her mind that soon they'd be replaced by claws. She nodded, not glancing at Remus, her throat dry and her usual list of quips exhausted – there wasn't anything she could say, was there?
"Sun'll be down -" Peter's sentence petered off at McGonagall's sharp glance. Dorcas batted away a grimace – as if she needed another reminder. She wasn't as bothered by McGonagall's presence as the others might have been, but still, it was embarrassing to appear before your head of house like this.
"How soon?" she ground out, not meeting anyone's eyes.
"Soon." Was the monosyllabic reply she received from Sirius by the window.
"Meadowes?" Potter's voice rang throughout the Shack, footsteps quickly approaching. Dorcas forced herself to meet his eyes – she was no weakling. "Dorcas?" he repeated, sounding softer.
"Meadowes'll do just fine." She snapped tiredly – she didn't want his pity, not now, not ever.
"Dorcas." Potter persisted, wisely staying out of range of her fist – not that Dorcas would be able to punch him in this state. "I-" he faltered, glancing round at the Shack's other occupants. "We'll be here for you." He offered awkwardly.
Dorcas was half-way to giving him a glare, when she hesitated closing her eyes for control, "Thanks Potter."
Beside her, Remus stiffened – Dorcas was unable to prevent herself glancing at him. He swallowed, giving her a gentle smile. "You'll be fine."
Sharp stabbing pains shot through her eyes, making them water, Dorcas ground her eyes with her fists, forgetting Remus' advice. The eerie glow didn't disappear – a trick of the light?
She could only wish. She could hear everything, every sound in the universe, the pain blinding as she drowned in the sound of it all, the heavy breathing, padding footsteps, soft stroking of a wand, all blurring into a head splitting roar, the pain burning her, someone screamed, bloodcurdling in it's pitch – she pawed at her ears, in an effort to shut it out – why wouldn't it end? Her last coherent thought was the realisation that the screaming she could hear was her own.
Peter watched, horrified as Dorcas writhed on the floor, blood curdling screams racking the entire room, penetrating his very being – he'd never seen someone transform before. Remus was more dignified, only the odd whimper escaping him, as Dorcas mewled, claws ripping through delicate flesh, hair pressing its way through her skin.
A horrendous series of cracks filled the shack, as bones reshaped themselves, curving stretching – breaking and reforming in a new way – Peter realised, repulsed and appalled.
"Transform now." McGonagall's cool voice cut across the Shack, but the words made as much sense as Gnomish to him, as he stared, transfixed. Gobbets of blood spattered over the floor, as sharp teeth protruded from their lips, stubs of tails growing rapidly, pushing outwards in rapid growth, yet Peter still stared, unable to manage even a single coherent thought.
A low growl swelled, before bursting free, filling the Shack, as two werewolves emerged. The larger wolf was on its feet almost instanteously, the younger one struggling to follow. A string of drool dangled from the larger's mouth and Peter was paralysed with terror. What should he do? He turned, about to run, as something slammed into him.
Why isn't the little idiot transforming? Sirius swore mentally, keeping half an eye on the wolves, whilst advancing towards Peter.Transform! Transform you bloody idiot!
What's Sirius doing? Fuck – watch what you're doing Potter! James whirled, raising his hooves, flailing to avoid a pair of snapping jaws D'you want to get bitten?
I must be absolutely bloody mad – Peter, if we get out of this alive –
"TRANSFORM PETER!" Sirius roared at Peter, forcing the transformation whilst leaping to his feet, and hauling the quivering boy after him. McGonagall and James were doing an admirable job of distracting the wolves, but that wouldn't last long. "Transform, Wormy!" Sirius shoved Peter behind him cursing his cowardly friend. "Peter, if you don't transform now, Merlin help me I'll – fuck!"
I can't cover them for much longer, James thought, dodging a swipe and neatly striking a wolf with a mental wince. What the hell are they doing? Shit, Potter, stop the bloody wolf – stop it! Stop it NOW!
A glancing blow from the stag stunned the advancing wolf momentarily, giving Sirius enough time to dodge to one side, shaking Peter furiously. "Transform! Transform Peter – do you want to die?"
"No." The reply was a trembling whisper but Sirius heard it, C'mon James – just a little longer –
"Well, bloody well transform then!"
Peter flinched as Sirius snarled in his face, spit flying towards him, but his eyes focussed on something behind Sirius, and his trembling ceased.
It worked – thank Merlin – what the –
Saturday November 29th 1976
Almost two weeks had passed since that first full moon, and Hermione had all but given up on receiving any answers – from Dorcas at least.
She resisted the urge to bang her head against the table in frustration or to hurl book after book against the wall, in open contempt at the lack of answers both in the library and from everyone else – something impulsive that she'd kick herself for doing afterwards. That would be tantamount to sacrilege – although whether to her or to the vulture like librarian, Madam Pince, she wasn't sure. Probably both, she mused, frustrated.
But, Hermione reasoned, she felt like doing something impulsive, something unplanned. She was thoroughly sick and tired of thinking carefully before she spoke, guarding her words and mulling over every answer she gave – she just wanted to talk to someone unguardedly, without having to mentally slap her hand over her mouth every few minutes! But even more so, she was sick of the lack of answers, from everyone around her – from Enid, from the books, from her own mind, but especially, from Dorcas.
Why wouldn't she tell them what had happened? Was it really that bad? Goddamn it! She needed answers – she didn't want to be kept in the dark. She understood how Harry might have felt last summer. Being kept in the dark was completelyinfuriating – and didn't they deserve answers, after all they'd all been through together?
Hermione hastily began to stack books back onto shelves with a possessed urgency. None of the books started shrieking at her or attacking her, so she presumed she'd got them back in the correct place. If Dorcas wouldn't tell her, then one of the others would.
A glance at her watch informed her that it was nearly dinner – if she wanted any food, this would have to be short and sweet, but that was unlikely.
"Have you seen Remus Lupin?" she snagged a passing second year on his way down to dinner – all of the Marauders were certainly adept at avoiding discovery when they wanted to; a hint would certainly be helpful.
The second year looked surprised, "You mean the prefect in sixth year?" his reply was surly – nobody liked being delayed for dinner.
"Yes, that's who I mean," Hermione replied thankful that the second year hadn't given her any cheek and actually knew who he was.
"He was on the sixth floor, last I saw him." The second year took a step away from Hermione, keen to get away.
"Thanks." Hermione told him hurriedly, as the second year began to jog off. "There's a shortcut, you know." She called after him, half-expecting him to carry on regardless – not wanting to admit to herself that she was procrastinating, prolonging the inevitable. She knew Remus would take about as well to her interrogating him as Norbert had to 'teddy'. She was surprised to the second year reappear, reluctantly curious.
"Where is it then?" he asked. Hermione frowned – he was a demanding, disrespectful little beggar – she opened her mouth to inform him that one didn't talk to a prefect like that, reaching out to touch her badge, when her fingers touched cloth – she wasn't a prefect any longer. She flinched before replying,
"Behind the tapestry of Andros the Invincible – it takes you down to the second floor."
"Cheers." He muttered, dashing off, as Hermione muttered about how she'd had respect for elders when she was a second year.
"Ungrateful little sod," half the Marauders appeared before her eyes, shocking her out of her skin – Sirius gave her a cheeky grin before continuing. "Just like us – carrying on time-honoured traditions."
Hermione was caught in consternation – why were James and Sirius bosom buddies once again? Sirius hadn't been this happy since, well, since the night Dorcas was bitten. "It's role models like you lot that inspire the lack of respect!" she told him, smiling slightly – she'd felt very guilty over Sirius' alienation, after all, it was never meant to have happened.
"We're just fulfilling our role in the school," James told her with a laugh at her indignation over the lack of respect. "You need the cheeky but loveable pranksters!"
Hermione rolled her eyes at the twins' role models. "You'll inspire generations of mischief makers to come, I'm sure. Now," she moved on briskly, sure that these two could identify Remus' location better than the second year ever could. "Can you tell me where Remus is?"
Sirius and James cast uneasy glances at each other, which Hermione didn't miss. "What?" she demanded, hands on hips – what weren't they saying?
James bit his lip, exchanging another glance with Sirius, before looking back at Hermione who glared at them. "He's in the astronomy tower," James told her at length. "Now's really not a good time though Granger." He added – gently but there was an edge to his voice.
"Granger," Sirius promised as she turned to leave, a low warning note straining through his speech. "Don't push him – or you'll have us to answer to."
Hermione almost laughed aloud at that – at the irony of Sirius making that statement. She wanted to laugh aloud, to point out the blinding irony of such a sentence – but she didn't get a change – the Marauders took off down the corridor, not caring for whatever parting shot she cared to hurl. Just what had taken place, for Sirius to earn James's forgiveness?
Still, she hurried upstairs, realising with some annoyance that the second year had either lied to her or at least was wrong – she wondered if he'd get his foot caught in the trick stair, like Neville always did. She sighed, knowing that she'd probably have to check later and see whether he was there – just to assuage the guilt she'd feel otherwise, though she knew, logically, that the odds of him actually a) getting stuck in the first place – were slim, and b) someone rescuing him before she returned was also high.
Hermione followed the corridor that curved back onto the main thoroughfare that led from the main staircase to the Astronomy tower – it was easily the fastest route, thinking about the tack she might use on Remus. He wouldn't take well to subterfuge or slyly directed conversation – not that Hermione was particularly adept at that sort of thing anyway.
She sighed, as she reached the door at the base of the stairwell, yanking the iron handle to open the door. Remus wasn't going to take this well no matter what method she employed. Perhaps she'd have been better off asking James or Sirius – but she didn't really know them, no matter how well she felt she might at times, through Harry and the future.
The door at the landing was spelled shut, but it yielded to Hermione's 'Alohamora', but her imaginings of a quiet entrance were ruined. The door squeaked slightly as she opened it, and she flinched, wishing that it hadn't – was the world set against her approaching quietly?
A lone figure stood, leaning against the parapet – the wind was wild up here, teasing her hair out of its bun and tossing it into a mass of knots – how long had he been out here? It was freezing, and the wind battering. Hermione clutched her cloak tightly to her, as she battled against the wind.
"Remus?" she called, having finally surrendered to the knowledge that her approach was going to be anything but stealthy – that was probably just as well, or Remus might have accidentally hexed her over the balcony. Although, Hermione thought wryly, he might just do that anyway.
"Remus!" She shouted at him, having finally reached the parapet, the telescopes that had been abandoned, whirring in place. "Remus Lupin!"
It still felt odd not to refer to him as 'Professor' Lupin – she'd had to swallow down a 'Professor' more than once. She clutched at his arm, determined to arouse him from his stupor, when he finally replied. "Hermione?"
He looked stunned – a mixture of annoyance and surprise crossing his face, but there was also a little hurt lingering in his voice. "Hermione." He repeated, "What do you want?" he raised his voice, to shout over the wind.
"I need to talk to you." Hermione told him, shouting over the wind – she was forced to repeat her request several times before he heard her. He frowned for a second, considering. Hermione narrowed her eyes, signalling to him that if he didn't come with her, she'd drag his unwilling body down every step of the tower and into the nearest empty room.
"About what?" he folded his arms, looking down at her.
"Come with me and I'll talk to you about it." She wasn't about to stand out in this tempest all night and wear out her voice trying to pry answers from him.
He eyed her once again, looking thoughtful. "Fine," he agreed, resigned to his fate.
Fortunately, they didn't have to battle the winds to get back inside - the wind almost flung them inside, through the door. Once they reached the stairwell, Remus stopped where he was, shaking Hermione's hand off his arm – Odd, Hermione thought – she hadn't noticed it had been there.
"You can tell me here." He planted his feet on the stairs, one hand wrapped around the railing stubbornly. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes, with a mental thought of boys.
"Aren't you coming down to dinner?" she asked, with a patient, if slightly patronizing, grin.
"No." Remus's replies were quickly becoming monosyllables.
"Fine," Hermione huffed, sensing that he wasn't going to move – and besides she on the other hand, happened to be hungry and didn't want to waste time dragging Remus hither and thither. "Will you tell me what happened?"
There was no doubt between either of them as to precisely what Hermione was referring to. "I can't."
"Can't," Hermione replied through her teeth, using the customary phrase. "Or won't?"
Remus looked agonized. "I don't want to talk about it!" He snapped, "And it's not for me to tell, anyway."
"So whose is it to tell?" Hermione retorted. "James's? Sirius's? Peter's?"
"Dorcas's." Remus stated flatly. "It's more to do with her than me."
"No it's not." Hermione replied, refraining from adding that Dorcas wouldn't tell her. "It's just as much to do with you."
"Fine," Remus snapped. "Peter forgot to transform."
Hermione drew a deep breath, and a tense silence filled the room as she waited for him to continue. Peter had forgotten to transform? But why? She almost felt contempt for him, before she realised how terrifying an experience being with one werewolf had been, let alone. It was then she remembered who she was thinking of – this was Peter Pettigrew, but her contempt was tempered by pity.
"Sirius – he saved Peter's life. There's no doubt about that." Remus continued sullenly.
"What – what did he do?" Hermione prompted him nervously.
Remus glared at her, but she didn't back down. "He transformed back – distracted us, until Peter had transformed and almost got bloody bitten in the process!"
Hermione felt her jaw drop, a horrified expression creeping over her face. No wonder Dorcas wouldn't speak of it. Who would?
"They're right." She heard Remus mutter angrily. "I'm a bloody monster. A bloody animal!"
The violence of his anger shocked Hermione out of her stupor, and she forced herself to wipe her horror from her face. "You are not a monster." She whispered to him forcefully. "Don't you ever dare describe yourself as a monster Remus Lupin. You are the nicest, most gentle man I've ever met – the monster's someone like Vo-" she hesitated before forcing the words out. "Voldemort! Does he care about the people he's ever hurt? Do his followers? They choose to do so! Consciously, Remus – they murder, and they feel no remorse for what they've done, no pity! And you do, it's obvious you do, look at how much pain it's causing you. You're anything but a monster!" Hermione closed her eyes for a fraction of a second, steeling herself for what she was about to say. "If anyone's the monster here it's me. It's my fault Dorcas is a werewolf Remus, my fault. Not yours. Not Sirius's. It's mine."
Beside her Remus stiffened. "Did you bite her Hermione? Did you turn her into a werewolf?"
Hermione reached out unsteadily, with just two fingers to touch his shoulder. "Remus I-" How could she begin to explain all that had happened? How he shouldn't blame himself? She needed to tell him, felt compelled, the decision weighing on her mind, and on her heart, but…he would hate her for it.
She swallowed heavily – Remus, she owed the truth to, at least. "Remus I haven't been entirely...honest, with you."
In the darkness she couldn't see his face, couldn't gauge his reaction, but she felt a hand clasp hers tentatively. She hurried on swiftly. "I've known from the beginning about what you are."
Remus gasped sharply, "What? How- did someone -"
"No," Hermione cut him off, holding his hand more tightly. "Let me finish, Remus, please. I've known about the Marauders, about the Map, about you being animagi, before any of you met me. I know how you were bitten and I know who you were bitten by. I know you thought you would never come to Hogwarts. I-" she hesitated once again, knowing Dumbledore would be most displeased about everything. "I've attended Hogwarts for six years now," she told him. Was he sharp enough to figure that out?
"That's not possible." He told her sharply – but he didn't drop her hand. Surely that was a good sign?
Hermione sat on the stairwell next to him. "It's perfectly possible – I've attended Hogwarts since I was eleven years old."
"But we would have met you, seen you!" Remus objected, sensing an ominous turn to the conversation.
"You would have," Hermione's voice dropped to a slow, faltering whisper, "If I'd been attending it at the same time as you. I'm from the future Remus."
He dropped her hand like it was a hot coal. "I don't believe you!" He told her furiously. There was a few seconds pause, and then, "How far from the future?" Remus was sharp minded enough to put two and two together.
"1996," she whispered, the story falling out of her now, the floodgates loosened. "I can never go back. I searched everyday for answers – I even resorted to pinching Enid's notes." She added with a wry, deprecating laugh. "Even at the beginning of the year – but, I know now, there's nothing. I'm never going back. It definitely wouldn't be the same place I left anyway. I shouldn't miss it as much as I do!"
Remus sat silently beside her for a moment, as Hermione struggled to keep her composure. "Do you know any of us, in the future," he asked quietly, having noted the 'definitely'.
"I know you," she said, her voice trembling slightly, but she smiled as she said it. "And I know Sirius. I've met Peter." She added, forcing herself to avoid spitting his name as she said it.
"What about James?" Remus asked, "What about Lily, Dorcas and Alice? Do you know them?"
"I know," Hermione began cautiously, "I know James's son. He's my best friend – Harry. I miss him! And it's my fault," she hurried on, "That Dorcas is a werewolf – don't you see? She was never meant to become a werewolf! If I hadn't been here, James wouldn't have been in detention – he would have rescued Snape. If I hadn't gone outside, we never would have seen Snape – we wouldn't have followed him!"
"And you wouldn't have seen him go down," Remus continued, "You wouldn't have seen him ripped to shreds. That's what would have happened Hermione. And from what you're telling me, Sirius still would have sent him down there! At least you've made him redeem himself!"
"And what about Dorcas?" Hermione interrupted. "She's a werewolf now, all because of me!"
"And it's too late to do anything about it now," Remus soothed. "What's done is done. We've just got to cope with it as best we can. You can't exactly reverse it."
"There are things you can do though," Hermione told him, "In the future. I'm just bringing them about more quickly." A sudden gleam of triumph shot through her eyes – remembrance.
"Well, until they get here then." Remus stood with an unexpected smile - which caused Hermione to almost topple over, upon seeing it - Remus caught her by the crook of her elbow, still smiling. "Thanks, for telling me, I mean. And for not holding a grudge about me either."
"Remus," Hermione grabbed his hand again, "I have never thought you were a monster. Ever. I know you aren't. Just – you can't tell anyone. Please. I'll tell people myself." Alright, well she had thought he was a monster for a while in third year – it was a small white lie.
"I promise," Remus said solemnly. "Now," he began with a grin, "About the future-"
Hermione swatted him with a hand and a relieved grin – finally, she had someone to confide in, who knew! "I'm not a soothsayer!"
Although Hermione knew a small proportion of what the Order got up to – certainly more than she'd know when the Order was located at Grimmauld Place – there were certainly aspects that Hermione knew nothing of.
Night-time stakeouts when their spies managed to scavenge some information was just one of them. Enid shuddered, sticking close to the hedge as she and her partner – Benjy – cut through the car park from Angel Street. A couple of local yobs congregated toward the centre of the car park, ranging in age from thirteen year olds hanging off the coat tails of their elders, pulling up their hoods in an effort to look older and gangly seventeen year olds, with the proud cuts from shaving. Although she was confident she and Benjy could take the youths out with spectacular ease, Enid didn't want to have to.
"Nearly there, love." Benjy linked his fingers through hers, in keeping with their charade of a couple in their mid-thirties – for that was who they were polyjuiced to look like, Alec and Lydia Nelson. She even had the 'id' to prove it – forged id, granted, as no Alec and Lydia Nelson really existed, but she had id nonetheless. The gesture, although only intended to keep in character, comforted Enid. Her skin prickled, not entirely from the cold – fear. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, sweat trickled down her back – she was no fighter, no bold Gryffindor.
The CIS building was almost impossible to miss, the mosaic panels still impressively glinting in the street light – tonight's target. Enid hurried past the yobs – if she had to pick a fight tonight, it would be with the Death Eaters, though she wished it were not. Miller Street, Enid read from a heavily graphitised sign, activating her emergency portkey – it was convenient to have contacts in the Department of Magical Transportation.
"Alec?" she murmured – she could never use the endearments as easily as Benjy, simply because they didn't appeal to her, and the only time she'd ever tried, it had sounded so fake that she'd been expressly forbidden from trying it again. "Have you got your phone on?" or rather: have you activated your portkey.
Benjy raised an eyebrow, momentarily confused, before recovering his equilibrium smoothly, masking his previous disorientation. "Already done it dear."
"Good," Enid replied, casting a nervous glance toward the building. "Granddad needs to be able to contact us." Dumbledore had been most amused at the codename they'd chosen for him, but it worked – and it was plausible, the two most important things.
"Any sign-" Enid whispered, as they walked up the street - few cars were passing at this time of night, a decrepit old banger hurtled up the road, loud music with heavy bass thumping.
"None ye-" A red light struck Benjy out cold.
"Oh my God" Enid screamed, absolutely terrified, before coming to her senses as a green light barely missed her. She dropped to her knees grabbing Benjy's wrist - there was a pulse. "Oh thank God!" she slapped his wrist watch activating his emergency portkey, which glowed bright blue, before he disappeared to the Headquarters.
There were at least twenty of them, she noted, but there would be more round the back of the building – and she'd just lost her partner. She undid the glamour on her wand – there wouldn't be any need for it now. There were far too many Death Eaters just to blow up one building – surely. This wasn't an ambush, was it?
"Stupefy!" She screamed at the group, knowing they'd surely seen her, as a few broke off. "Petrificus Totalus!"
She was backing up now, behind the hedge, in the car park – the youths had scattered long ago. How had the Death Eaters known that they'd be here? "Impedimenta!"
She couldn't let the fear overwhelm her, had to stay strong, if she wanted to survive. "Stupefy!" Her shot grazed a Death Eater, but he barely flinched, conjuring a quick shield charm. She was in trouble. "Petrificus Totalus."
A volley of green lights decimated the hedge before her, one missing her by a half an inch. Enid let out a suppressed scream, rolling behind a car. She was running out of options, very quickly. Where were the others? Couldn't they help her? She glanced up at the group again. Probably not.
They were advancing, she'd have to move soon. She had one last option, before she activated her Portkey. "Expecto Patronum!"
A faint shimmer, wisp like smog appeared before, blowing away on the wind. Her happy memory wasn't strong enough, and they were coming so very quickly, she had to be brave, couldn't let the others down. "Expecto Patronum!"
Her dove shimmered from her wand, comforting and Enid reached out with one hand to touch it, before remembering the consequences of doing so - and she didn't have time to conjure another one. "Tell them to come quickly," she told it urgently, "Tell them I'm cornered in the car park by Angel Street. And be quick!"
It was then that everything imploded – as the CIS building went up in flames, Enid fell into darkness.
Armenia 1976
"Avedis?" An old woman peered outwards of her window, looking for her grandson. Doubtless he wouldn't come. "Avedis?"
"I'm here."
"Tell Levon that they will come – those who will have need of his skills. Tell him not to be so damn stubborn this time!"
"His skills, grandmother?"
"Yes, his skills," she snapped. "He's not entirely crazy yet. There's work still for him to do. I'd tell him myself, but," she eyed Avedis, who'd paled from the first mention of the crazy man Levon. "Make sure he gets the message Avedis! And do it now boy!"
A/N: Hopefully, I've pricked your curiosity!! Thanks for reading this far!
LotL101: I included everything (I think!), and I do think that, that was definately needed!! Sorry for the slow update!! Thank you!!
suisei no mitsukai: As always, your review was full of helpful hints, and you let me know what's important to the story line and what's not - so thank you, as it's always helpful to know whether aspects of the story that I've worried over add or detract to the story, so thanks!!
Miss. Silver Star: I agree, it is a little surprising, but I thought that as Remus is the teenager and not the man he will be, he would be a little less forgiving - particuarly when he's in the right - you definately made me have thoughts about how I've portrayed Remus!
Alysandra Martin: I'm glad you like it! ( and a smiley face too!! Yay!) )
WuHaoNi: Thanks for commenting again - the future will definately have a bigger part to play as the story moves on, so you have those to look forward to!!
Yochanan Lie: I do agree that the Quidditch wasn't really necessary for the plot, but I really wanted to include it from a story point of view, it shows how little this has effected the rest of the school (and how well it's all been covered up!) Again, their'll probably be another (more significant) future chapter soon! Thanks for the comments!
Geneviève: The romance is slow, but I just felt that Hermione wouldn't jump into a relationship straight away (as you say!) so I've kept it slow so far! I'm glad you like the future chapters - I guess it would be pretty terrifying, not knowing whether you'll be next! Thank you!!