A/N: Hello again! This is my third fanfiction, and it is a sequel to my second, The Half-Blood Changeling . I fell in love with the character Sean, and I felt like she needed some completion and closure to her story that I just couldn't do with 'Half-Blood Changeling'. The story picks up five years after the Epilogue of 'HBC', and while it is a continuation of the first story - it does have it's differences. I plan to have this fanfic parallel 'HBC' in some ways, but it is a great departure in others. Ugh, I wish I could explain - but that would give it away... To those of you who read 'HBC', thank you so much for your support, and I really hope you enjoy 'The Changeling in Hiding' (I'll explain what the title means... eventually...) As always, questions, comments, and reviews are gladly welcomed - so please let me know what you think! Thanks again!
Gryff.
POST DEATHLY HALLOWS! (also, reading 'HBC' will help a lot with comprehension, but it is not required...)
One: Departure
Platform 9 ¾ was bustling with people running all about as families said goodbye and friends reunited. Several people were staring directly at her as she heard a few mentions of ‘Prime Minister’ whispered on the air around her by muggle-borns, but she was used to the awkward attention and ignored it as her boyfriend brushed her short, blonde curls out of her face and kissed her again. This time, a few of the older students hooted and hollered at them. She laughed as the five year old standing by her side tugged at her arm, “Seems you’re quite popular, professor.”
“I’m not so sure it’s me their whistling at…” He winked and wrapped his arms around her with a sigh, “I’m sorry about this, but it was my turn to supervise the train ride to school --”
“Stop apologizing - it’s a good thing they have this rule! Besides, I had McGonagall as my Head of House; I can’t imagine her as Headmistress… I would’ve never left her office…” She grinned slyly, reminiscent of her delinquent teenage years.
He grinned back at her, “Yeah, I know… she was telling me some pretty interesting stories after she find out we were dating…”
She screwed up her face to look offended and smacked him lightly on the arm, “Well, don’t believe everything you hear…”
“What am I going to do without you until Christmas?” He sighed heavily as the five-minute whistle blew.
She shrugged, “Professor Sprout could always use some company…” she said with a wink.
He scoffed, but smiled nonetheless. “You’re still coming to visit to help my NEWT students, right?”
“Of course.”
“And you have all the Hogsmeade days written down somewhere?” he inquired nervously.
She rolled her eyes, “Yes, dear.” The whistle blew three times and he bit his bottom lip as he gazed up at the Hogwarts Express with a fleeting pang of regret. She shook her head, “Stop it, you know you want to go.”
He pouted at her for a moment, “What would I do without you?” he whispered quietly as he touched her forehead with his own.
“Wither and die, now get on that train.” She pointed her face up to kiss him a final time as his students whistled at them again.
“I love you.” He grinned, then turned and jogged towards the train.
She turned and waved goodbye as he leapt off the platform and onto the train steps. “I love you, too – I’ll see you in a few weeks!” His students whooped and hollered again, calling out ‘I love you, Professor!’ in mocking, high-pitched voices as the train started to pull away. She knelt down beside the five year old still tugging at her arm, “Wave goodbye, Teddy,” she asked, and he turned towards the train and waved half-heartedly.
“Sean?” He asked in a careful voice, his small frame exuding sadness and confusion.
She picked him up with a heave and began to walk off the platform, her worn shoe soles groaning under the strain of the extra weight she was now carrying. “Yes, Teddy?”
“When will he be back?” he asked with a pout as they disappeared into the large barrier and suddenly reappeared on the muggle platform nine.
She laughed and bent down to let him stand on his own, but remained on his level as she held his hand, “You know that he wants to stay here with us, but it’s his job to go and teach at Hogwarts. One day, you’ll be getting on that train, too, and I’ll be waving goodbye to you.”
“No!” He yelped, and he threw his arms around her.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, that’s not for many years.” She said with a smile as he loosened his grip. “Come on, let’s go home and get ready for Hermione’s party tonight, okay?” He nodded sadly, still slightly confused about her boyfriend’s expected absence, and she took his hand and stood as they began to wind their way through the crowd again. She watched him as they continued towards the parking lot, his eyes on his own feet, and she sighed, “Tell you what, you can choose whatever hair color you like for the party tonight.”
His confusion died away to be immediately replaced with happiness, “Really?” he half-squealed.
She smiled at his soft brown hair and gentle brown eyes that made him look so much like his father, “Really.”
* * * * * *
A head of violently pink hair zoomed past her knees, giggling wildly while Ron chased after the little boy on his toy broomstick. “Did you… have to… bring his… broomstick?!” Ron asked through pants as he stopped and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
Sean leaned against the marble kitchen island and fought a laugh while she shrugged, “I told him he could bring one toy, this was the one he chose.”
Hermione grinned as she leaned against the counter opposite Sean, “Would you rather he brought one of the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes toys he’s got?”
Ron rolled his eyes and called out Teddy’s name as he continued to chase him before any decorations were destroyed. “You realize that you’re going to have kids with that man?” Sean asked with a grin as she pulled on the strapless bodice of her pale yellow dress.
Hermione rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink, “This is my engagement party, isn’t it?”
Sean put her palms up to mean ‘no offense’, “I was just making sure you knew the rules, that’s all.”
There was a loud crash from the next room, followed by a swear from Ron and a pink-haired Teddy running into the kitchen, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it…” He repeated until he ran into her knees.
She bent down to be on eye-level with him and sighed, despite her first urge to laugh, “Broom.” Sean held out her hand in which Teddy deposited his broom. “Now, go help Ron clean up – and no magic.”
Teddy pouted at first, whining “But, Mum!” Sean winced slightly at the name he called her as a pang of guilt shot through her body, but she maintained her authoritative look and he rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he sighed heavily before turning away from them to go back into the parlor.
Hermione, however, was fidgeting sadly as she stood up. “Does he call you that a lot?” she asked quietly.
Sean sighed, “That’s the first time he’s said it in a while. I think he gets confused because all the kids at his preschool have at least one mum or one dad, and he has a ‘Sean’.”
“How is his preschool going?” Hermione asked with a knowing look and tone.
“Well, besides the fact that it’s full of pretentious, affluent families that have their nannies pick up their kids - it’s the best preschool in London.” Sean ran a hand through her chin-length curls. “He knows that he can do magic and transfigure and the other kids can’t… I mean, he understands…” she shook her head sadly, “I don’t know, maybe I should find a more… diverse preschool for him.”
Hermione sighed, concern coursing through her body and edging its way into Sean. “He doesn’t have to go to preschool at all… what if he accidentally uses magic?”
Sean pushed herself up to sit on the marble island top and tugged on the bottom of her dress as she crossed her legs. “I want him to go to preschool, Hermione – he needs the interaction with kids his own age. Besides, I let him do things at home so he continues to use his abilities without giving anything away… the other parents, well, nannies just think I’m a hippie-mom who lets her kid dye his hair.”
“But you’re not his mum, Sean.” Hermione said sadly, trying to be sympathetic.
“No, I’m not his mother – there’s a difference.” She sighed heavily, “I still don’t want him calling me ‘mum’, though…”
“Talking about me again?” a deep voice asked from the doorway of the kitchen, and she turned her head up to see the tall figure of George Weasley leaning on the doorframe.
She smiled brightly and slid off the island to give him a tight hug. “You are completely twisted, and I feel sorry for your wife.” Sean stated flatly.
George laughed heartily and moved to give Hermione a hug and congratulate her. “So,” he began, turning back to Sean, “How’s Teddy doing?”
Sean smiled, “He’s doing pretty well… still adjusting, but that’s to be expected.”
“Oh, did you ever get him a muggle birth certificate for the adoption?” Hermione inquired.
Sean nodded, “Yeah, I gave my father and call and he took care of it, so Teddy’s now legally my child in the magical and muggle worlds.”
George congratulated her as Teddy dashed into the kitchen, “UNCLE GEORGE! UNCLE GEORGE! UNCLE GEORGE!” he repeated until he ran into his knees.
George smiled and bent down to pick up the excited five year old. “Hey, Teddy. What’s with the pink hair?” He furrowed his eyebrows and smiled as he passed a glance to Sean, as if he was wondering how she could have let him choose such a color.
Teddy squinted his face up as if in sudden pain, and his hair changed from pink to a honey blonde, matching Sean’s color. “Better?”
“Much.” George laughed, “Hey, Tori is coming tonight, little man.”
Teddy groaned. “Eyw! Victoire is icky – she always chases me!” he complained.
“Please play nicely with her when she gets here, Teddy.” Sean commented as he turned to watch her.
“Do I have to?” He whined as Hermione began to turn red while trying not to laugh.
Sean bit her bottom lip so she wouldn’t laugh herself, and Teddy turned around back to George who answered for him, “Yes, you do.”
“Aw, man!” Teddy sighed as George let him slide back down to the ground, and he skulked out of the kitchen.
Hermione finally calmed down and put a hand over her stomach as she tried to breathe normally. “Okay, I’m going to go help Ron welcome the guests.” She rolled her eyes as if it was the last thing she wanted to do, but Sean gave her a wink as she Felt Hermione’s excitement swirl inside her as she passed.
George sighed and ran a lazy hand through his hair, “I can’t believe my little brother is getting married…”
“And you’re having a baby…” Sean grinned at him.
“And I’m having a baby… It seems like everyone is we know getting married or having babies... speaking of getting married, how’s that boyfriend of yours?” He asked with a slight frown of concern.
“He’s fine, thank you; he’s already at Hogwarts.” She crossed her arms and smiled at his unfailing protectiveness over her after so many years.
“Does that mean he’s not Apparating in?” a young brown-haired woman asked as she entered the kitchen.
“Gemma!” Sean exclaimed as she embraced George’s obviously pregnant wife. “How are you? How’s the baby?”
Gemma waved her hand in the air and rolled her eyes, letting Sean know she was not exactly thrilled with her current situation, “Morning-noon-and-night sickness isn’t exactly all butterflies and sunshine, but only three more months and we get to meet the little one.” She sighed and smiled as George put one arm around her shoulders and the other on her belly, “So the boyfriend isn’t coming tonight? I thought Hogwarts staff could visit Hogsmeade and, you know, Apparate elsewhere?”
“They can, but he really wants to get settled first. Besides, he’s a new Head of House and it’s McGonagall’s last year before Sprout steps up… he just wants to make sure he gives a good impression.” Sean pushed her curls out of her face.
“That makes sense.” Gemma conceded, and she sighed with a quick glance to her husband then back to Sean, “Well, ready to go meet and greet the rest of the guests?”
Sean laughed as George groaned, “Yeah, let me just go find Teddy first…” she leaned in and put the back of her hand to her mouth as if telling Gemma a secret, “I think he’s trying to find a hiding space before Bill and Fleur get here with Tori.”
Gemma laughed before putting her arm around George and leading him out of the kitchen and into the parlor to meet the arrived guests, while Sean turned in the opposite direction in search of her blonde-haired boy.
I hope you enjoyed chapter one... HBC readers, I know you have some concerns! Please review!
Full Version: The Changeling In Hiding
thank you to everyone who submitted reviews! i'm so glad you're enjoying it! this chapter will explain some... discrepancies... but please don't be angry with me! i have a plan...
Two: Reunions and Remembrance
Laughter floated onto the terrace from the parlor as the wind made her curls dance across her face. She leaned forward onto the wrought iron railing overlooking Ron and Hermione’s picturesque garden, barely visible in the waning sunset, and sighed contentedly. She had become overwhelmed in the thick of the party, as usually happened whenever she was among a crowd of people… it was part of the downside of being an Empath – always having to Feel everyone else’s emotions as well as her own. Now, the only thing she could feel was the cool, September wind... and the fatigue approaching from behind. “Hey, Ron…” she smiled, but didn’t turn to face him as he sighed and leaned onto the railing beside her.
“Shouldn’t you be inside? You know, enjoying yourself at the party you helped plan?”
Sean brushed her hair out of her face and turned her head towards him, her chin on her shoulder, “I am enjoying myself, just not at the party.” They exchanged smirks, “Shouldn’t you be inside, enjoying yourself at the party for you?” Sean asked with a raised, questioning eyebrow.
Ron rolled his eyes, “Please, that party’s not for me…”
“Oh, come on… at least half of it’s for you…” Sean sighed in exasperation. Ron didn’t respond, but just smiled quietly to himself. “So, how’s work? Hermione said you’ve been really busy lately?”
“Ugh…” Ron groaned as he rolled his eyes, and Sean could Feel his relaxed (yet exhausted) emotions morph into disgust. “You have no idea. We’ve been tracking some kind of Dark cult of wizards throughout eastern Europe… I thought I had seen just about everything until these blokes came along, they’re a sick bunch of freaks…”
He was pulsing with revulsion and anger at the Dark wizards he was now focusing on, and Sean had to stop herself before getting lost in his emotions and accidentally Seeing. “Do you have any idea where they are?” she asked after shaking herself slightly.
Ron struggled with himself for a moment, finally sighing heavily, “I shouldn’t be talking about work… I’m just frustrated, sorry.”
She wondered if the frustration she could Feel from him was directed anywhere in particular… she sighed heavily and let her head hang, “I’m really sorry that I can’t help you guys out, but I would never leave the Auror Office if I was constantly trying to See every bad guy out there…” she began sadly and slightly ashamedly.
“I know - and you’re right, Sean,” Ron cut her off and he held out his hands submissively, “Besides, if you were always helping us out, I’d be out of a job.” He grinned as his harsh emotions subsided.
“SEAN!” a small voice shouted as a bundle of blonde excitement ran onto the terrace. She turned around and smiled as she bent down to pick up Teddy, “Harry’s here! He said he came just to see me!”
“Ouch.” Ron maintained a hurt look and a grin simultaneously beside her, both of them leaning backwards against the railing.
She bit her bottom lip in anticipation of the awkward conversations that would inevitably worm their way into the rest of the evening. “Well,” she exhaled, “did you show him your new broom?”
Teddy’s face lit up as he began to tingle with eagerness, and she let him slide down and dash back indoors. Ron’s calm began to fade into horror, “Wait, did you say broom?” Sean nodded and grinned, “Damn. Teddy!” Ron called out, and jogged back inside to catch up with him.
Sean checked her watch and realized that it was past nine, over an hour after Teddy’s normal bedtime – which meant he would be crashing very soon. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair before making her way past the terrace doors and through the sunroom back into the house. Immediately she could Feel the tingle of everyone’s different emotions only a few rooms away, and she took the long way though the back rooms of Hermione and Ron’s house. Their home was rather large, but not grotesquely so, and each room had a classic feel that reminded her of the Gryffindor common room back at Hogwarts. There were even moments when Sean thought she caught of whiff of the flowers that bloomed at the Burrow garden, and they gave her best friend’s home a true sense of family and belonging.
She made her way into the back sitting room, lit dimly with only one lamp, and smiled at the small blue duffel bag embroidered with the initials ‘TRL’ sitting on the brown leather sofa. Sean plopped down beside it and began to rummage through its contents, making sure Teddy’s extra clothes and blanket were still all together, when a soft, deep voice startled her.
“Hey.”
Her hand reached her wand strapped to the inside of her ankle (by way of her high heels) before she realized that she knew the man standing a few yards away, leaning casually in the darkened doorway… well, she didn’t really know him anymore. “Oh, hey.” Sean relaxed and tugged on the bottom of her dress, trying in vain to pull it over her knees. “Ahm, Teddy’s looking for you.”
“Yeah, he’s trying to get Ron to give him his broom back.” He motioned to Teddy’s bag beside her, “Are you leaving?”
She turned away from him and grabbed the strap of the bag to sling over her shoulder as she stood up, “Teddy’s bedtime was a while ago… he’s not going to last much longer.” She smiled briefly and awkwardly before ducking her head and moving towards the doorway he wasn’t occupying when he cleared his throat and spoke quickly to stop her from leaving, “How is Teddy?”
Sean sighed and relaxed her shoulders, “He’s good, but, ahm, you should know that I’m shopping around for a different preschool for him.”
“Good,” he sighed in relief, “I really can’t stand the one he’s at now.”
She realized she was fidgeting with her hands and glanced down to them, “It’s a good school, but I just think he might benefit from being around kids with, ahm… more diverse families.”
There was an awkward silence that lingered in between them as she waited for him to either respond or say ‘goodnight’. He moved closer to her, only a few steps away now, and she could see the concern in his eyes, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I guess…” Sean mumbled quietly. “He’s been worried about you, you know – being gone for weeks, even months at a time…”
He rolled his eyes and exhaled in exasperation, “He knows I’m only away for work, Sean! Remember, when we had this discussion with him about why he was going into your custody? I just don’t have the resources or the time that you can give him and--”
“Look, I’m not accusing you of anything! I’m just saying – you’re in town now, and if you’re planning to be here a while you might think about spending some time with him.” She shook her head slowly, “Not everything about Teddy has to be an argument.”
He considered her for a moment, “I have a few days off coming up, how about he stays with me then?”
“It’s fine with me, but make sure you ask him.” Sean smiled sadly
As if on cue, Teddy ran out of the hallway behind them and yelled, “HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!” as his godfather scooped him up in his arms. “I got a new broom! Wanna see?”
“Sure, Teddy, but I wanted to ask you something first; what do you think about giving Sean a break and spending a few days with me?” Harry grinned.
Teddy’s excitement and joy that had been swimming inside him faded as he furrowed his brows, “Away from Sean?”
Harry pulled back in slight surprise, “Only for a few days…”
“But won’t she be lonely?” Teddy asked in confusion.
Sean put a soft hand on his back, “I’ll be okay, sweetheart, your godfather just wants to spend some time with you since he’s had to be away for a while…” She gave him a reassuring smile.
“And you won’t be sad?” The five year old pushed out his bottom lip as Harry sighed heavily.
Sean laughed quietly, “Of course I’ll be sad, I’ll miss you – but it’s only a few days and I’m a just call or an Apparition away, alright?”
Teddy held out his arms towards her and Harry released him so Sean could hold him as he squeezed her in a hug. “Do I have to leave now?” he whispered into her ear.
She opened her eyes and glanced at Harry, then let Teddy pull up so she could look in his eyes, “No, not now. Harry’ll give me a call in a few days to set it up, okay?” Harry and Teddy both nodded, though Teddy looked much more relieved whereas Harry remained tense. “Come on, what do you say we head home?” He nodded, still in her arms, and they made their way towards the front of the house to say ‘goodnight’ to everyone before leaving. Teddy’s eyelids had already started to droop threateningly before they made it out the door, but he was finally buckled in his car seat and they were on their way soon enough.
Sean glanced at the blonde-haired boy in the rearview mirror and smiled as she Felt him drift away into slumber, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from the memory that had begun to play like a movie in her mind as she drove on into the night…
She was sitting upright in her office chair at her desk, staring blankly at her mobile while trying to determine if the conversation she just had actually happened. Had she imagined it? Did she dose off while working and dream it? Pride and unadulterated happiness began to swell inside her, and she knew that it had been real. She heard the lock ‘click’ and the front door swing open, and she pushed the chair back and moved around her desk and out of the study into the open living area of the flat. She waited for Harry to close the door and turn around before welcoming him home. “Hey!” she exclaimed with a massive grin as she kissed him briefly, “I have the best news!”
“Ugh, I had the worst day.” Harry grumbled as he turned away from her to hang up his snow-covered jacket.
Sean pulled back and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion – had he not heard her? Was he ignoring her? She finally Felt his frustration begin to prickle into her like tiny negative needles popping her happy balloons, and she sighed heavily, “What happened?” Her news would have to wait, again.
She moved into the sitting area and perched herself on the armrest of one of their white couches while Harry began to pace back and forth in front of the coffee table, their Christmas tree glowing off to the side. “You know Rita Skeeter’s latest book?” Sean nodded, but he didn’t look at her for confirmation. “Well, in it she called Ron my ‘sidekick’, and he blew up at me today and said that it’s costing him the better assignments!”
Sean sighed. “He didn’t mean it, Harry – he’s been really stressed lately with everything that’s going on with him and Hermione…” she offered soothingly.
Harry tensed his hands and continued to pace as he grunted. “Why could she just say ‘yes’ when he asked her to move in?!”
His frustration at both Ron and Hermione was unsettling, but Sean answered him anyway. “Because she’s not ready for that, and neither is Ron if you ask me…”
Harry stopped pacing and looked at her for the first time, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Harry… don’t you think it’s a bit coincidental that Ron asked her to move in six months after we started living together? Ron thought he owed it to her, that he needed to ask so she would think he was serious… but neither of them are really ready for that step.” She sighed and ran a hand through her chocolate brown hair, “I know they’ve been going through this rough patch for a while now—”
“Seven months.” Harry grumbled.
“…but they’ll work it out; I mean, they’re still together and still in love – just dealing with some issues, that’s all.” She had tried to soothe Harry’s irritation and defend her friends at the same time, but his aggravation remained and she sighed before continuing. “Their relationship is just a bit more… complicated… than ours.”
Harry folded his arms across his chest defensively and narrowed his eyes ever-so-slightly at her, “Well, you didn’t live with me right away, either.”
Sean felt herself pull back in slight shock, “What?”
“You lived with George for five months before we lived together…” he muttered quietly, yet accusingly.
She stood up and cocked her head to the side, somewhat affronted, “I lived with George until you asked me to move in. Besides, it was right after Fred died – we needed each other, to be together.”
Harry threw up his hands dramatically. “What exactly does ‘together’ mean?!”
All of his frustration at Ron and Hermione rapidly redirected towards her, causing her alarm to mingle with his growing anger all at once inside her. “You know nothing happened between us – don’t pretend to be some victim when there wasn’t even a crime committed.” Despite her rising anger, she managed to speak calmly and clearly.
“Am I just supposed to take your word for it?” Harry yelled at her this time, suddenly and forcefully.
Sean stepped back in shock, but didn’t cower. “Yes, and you did! He’s getting married for Merlin’s sake! You didn’t even start questioning anything until nearly five months ago! And ever since then all we do is argue over the same things over and over!” She held out her hand and started to count things off on her fingers, mimicking Harry’s paranoia. “What happened between me and George - why I won’t help out at the office – why you cannot even try to be positive – why we don’t talk about our future – why you refuse to talk about the prophecy—”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Harry grumbled curtly.
“See? That’s what I mean!” She walked around the coffee table and stood in front of him, lowering her voice and speaking softly, “If anyone knows what it’s like after a prophecy about you has been fulfilled, it’s me…” They both sighed together, and Sean Felt him begin to calm down, “I know it’s hard and you’re trying to find purpose—”
“Ugh!” Harry rolled his eyes and turned his back on her, walking away a few steps in front of her. “You don’t know anything.”
She exhaled heavily and folded her arms dejectedly over her chest. “Yeah, I do, Harry… it kills me that you’re frustrated and depressed all the time, but at some point you have to take responsibility for yourself – you’re an adult now, it’s time to start acting like one.” Her words were harsh, but she had tried to say them as gently as possible – they needed to be said.
Sean saw Harry’s shoulders and back tense up as she Felt anger begin to reignite inside him, and he balled his fists as he spun around and began to yell at her. “An adult? Like you?! Always Seeing into other people’s emotions even though you’re not welcome?! You want to talk about my emotions? My responsibility?! Take a look in the mirror, Sean!”
“What is that supposed to mean? And since when am I not welcome?” Sean scoffed as tears began to form behind her green eyes.
“You know exactly what it means – running off to live with the centaurs for a year while I fought Voldemort… you’ve got some nerve…” Harry turned away from her and began to walk towards the dining area of their flat.
She came up behind him and grabbed his left forearm, spinning him around to face her. “Don’t walk away from me – not again! And ‘running off’? You told me we couldn’t be together until it was over! What did you think I was going to do, just sit around until he found me again?! I went where I could be safe, and keep you safe as well!” She hated the pleading tone in her voice, but she couldn’t suppress it.
Harry rolled his eyes and sneered at her, “Whatever, Sean, believe whatever you want. Just stay out of my emotions from now on.”
He turned to walk away from her again, and she followed him into the kitchen. “You know I can’t help it, Harry! I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t even want it!”
“Oh, please, like you don’t relish in the fact that you always know how everyone is feeling before they themselves do. Stop trying to be such a martyr, we all know who really killed Dumbledore.” He said it off the cuff, as if it was a throwaway insult, but it felt like the Cruciatus Curse all over again.
Horrible, maddening silence and static passed in between them like lightning as they shot daggers at each other with their eyes. Sean took a deep breath and mustered all her composure and strength to stay calm, “I know things haven’t been easy for you lately, but you cannot drag me through the dirt because you can’t stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
Harry leaned against the counter almost casually, as if he was satisfied with how much he had hurt her. “Yeah? Well, maybe I’m just tired of dragging you along with me.”
She stepped back from him, completely abashed and stunned at his brass and coldness. “Is that what you really want?” she asked in a quiet voice, and he simply shrugged his shoulders. Immediately, Sean Felt his emotions drain from her, and she knew she was no longer able to Feel him Empathically. “Fine. I’ll get my things tomorrow.” She turned and left the kitchen, her body moving awkwardly in an unfamiliar pace as she grabbed her coat and clutch from the living room and opened the door. She hesitated for a split-second, hoping to Feel something-anything from him, but all she could sense was the bitterly cold December wind blowing up the stairwell. “By the way, I made principle.” Sean muttered as she closed the door and headed for Diagon Alley.
Don't hate me! If you have any questions or comments, please review here!
Two: Reunions and Remembrance
Laughter floated onto the terrace from the parlor as the wind made her curls dance across her face. She leaned forward onto the wrought iron railing overlooking Ron and Hermione’s picturesque garden, barely visible in the waning sunset, and sighed contentedly. She had become overwhelmed in the thick of the party, as usually happened whenever she was among a crowd of people… it was part of the downside of being an Empath – always having to Feel everyone else’s emotions as well as her own. Now, the only thing she could feel was the cool, September wind... and the fatigue approaching from behind. “Hey, Ron…” she smiled, but didn’t turn to face him as he sighed and leaned onto the railing beside her.
“Shouldn’t you be inside? You know, enjoying yourself at the party you helped plan?”
Sean brushed her hair out of her face and turned her head towards him, her chin on her shoulder, “I am enjoying myself, just not at the party.” They exchanged smirks, “Shouldn’t you be inside, enjoying yourself at the party for you?” Sean asked with a raised, questioning eyebrow.
Ron rolled his eyes, “Please, that party’s not for me…”
“Oh, come on… at least half of it’s for you…” Sean sighed in exasperation. Ron didn’t respond, but just smiled quietly to himself. “So, how’s work? Hermione said you’ve been really busy lately?”
“Ugh…” Ron groaned as he rolled his eyes, and Sean could Feel his relaxed (yet exhausted) emotions morph into disgust. “You have no idea. We’ve been tracking some kind of Dark cult of wizards throughout eastern Europe… I thought I had seen just about everything until these blokes came along, they’re a sick bunch of freaks…”
He was pulsing with revulsion and anger at the Dark wizards he was now focusing on, and Sean had to stop herself before getting lost in his emotions and accidentally Seeing. “Do you have any idea where they are?” she asked after shaking herself slightly.
Ron struggled with himself for a moment, finally sighing heavily, “I shouldn’t be talking about work… I’m just frustrated, sorry.”
She wondered if the frustration she could Feel from him was directed anywhere in particular… she sighed heavily and let her head hang, “I’m really sorry that I can’t help you guys out, but I would never leave the Auror Office if I was constantly trying to See every bad guy out there…” she began sadly and slightly ashamedly.
“I know - and you’re right, Sean,” Ron cut her off and he held out his hands submissively, “Besides, if you were always helping us out, I’d be out of a job.” He grinned as his harsh emotions subsided.
“SEAN!” a small voice shouted as a bundle of blonde excitement ran onto the terrace. She turned around and smiled as she bent down to pick up Teddy, “Harry’s here! He said he came just to see me!”
“Ouch.” Ron maintained a hurt look and a grin simultaneously beside her, both of them leaning backwards against the railing.
She bit her bottom lip in anticipation of the awkward conversations that would inevitably worm their way into the rest of the evening. “Well,” she exhaled, “did you show him your new broom?”
Teddy’s face lit up as he began to tingle with eagerness, and she let him slide down and dash back indoors. Ron’s calm began to fade into horror, “Wait, did you say broom?” Sean nodded and grinned, “Damn. Teddy!” Ron called out, and jogged back inside to catch up with him.
Sean checked her watch and realized that it was past nine, over an hour after Teddy’s normal bedtime – which meant he would be crashing very soon. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair before making her way past the terrace doors and through the sunroom back into the house. Immediately she could Feel the tingle of everyone’s different emotions only a few rooms away, and she took the long way though the back rooms of Hermione and Ron’s house. Their home was rather large, but not grotesquely so, and each room had a classic feel that reminded her of the Gryffindor common room back at Hogwarts. There were even moments when Sean thought she caught of whiff of the flowers that bloomed at the Burrow garden, and they gave her best friend’s home a true sense of family and belonging.
She made her way into the back sitting room, lit dimly with only one lamp, and smiled at the small blue duffel bag embroidered with the initials ‘TRL’ sitting on the brown leather sofa. Sean plopped down beside it and began to rummage through its contents, making sure Teddy’s extra clothes and blanket were still all together, when a soft, deep voice startled her.
“Hey.”
Her hand reached her wand strapped to the inside of her ankle (by way of her high heels) before she realized that she knew the man standing a few yards away, leaning casually in the darkened doorway… well, she didn’t really know him anymore. “Oh, hey.” Sean relaxed and tugged on the bottom of her dress, trying in vain to pull it over her knees. “Ahm, Teddy’s looking for you.”
“Yeah, he’s trying to get Ron to give him his broom back.” He motioned to Teddy’s bag beside her, “Are you leaving?”
She turned away from him and grabbed the strap of the bag to sling over her shoulder as she stood up, “Teddy’s bedtime was a while ago… he’s not going to last much longer.” She smiled briefly and awkwardly before ducking her head and moving towards the doorway he wasn’t occupying when he cleared his throat and spoke quickly to stop her from leaving, “How is Teddy?”
Sean sighed and relaxed her shoulders, “He’s good, but, ahm, you should know that I’m shopping around for a different preschool for him.”
“Good,” he sighed in relief, “I really can’t stand the one he’s at now.”
She realized she was fidgeting with her hands and glanced down to them, “It’s a good school, but I just think he might benefit from being around kids with, ahm… more diverse families.”
There was an awkward silence that lingered in between them as she waited for him to either respond or say ‘goodnight’. He moved closer to her, only a few steps away now, and she could see the concern in his eyes, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I guess…” Sean mumbled quietly. “He’s been worried about you, you know – being gone for weeks, even months at a time…”
He rolled his eyes and exhaled in exasperation, “He knows I’m only away for work, Sean! Remember, when we had this discussion with him about why he was going into your custody? I just don’t have the resources or the time that you can give him and--”
“Look, I’m not accusing you of anything! I’m just saying – you’re in town now, and if you’re planning to be here a while you might think about spending some time with him.” She shook her head slowly, “Not everything about Teddy has to be an argument.”
He considered her for a moment, “I have a few days off coming up, how about he stays with me then?”
“It’s fine with me, but make sure you ask him.” Sean smiled sadly
As if on cue, Teddy ran out of the hallway behind them and yelled, “HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!” as his godfather scooped him up in his arms. “I got a new broom! Wanna see?”
“Sure, Teddy, but I wanted to ask you something first; what do you think about giving Sean a break and spending a few days with me?” Harry grinned.
Teddy’s excitement and joy that had been swimming inside him faded as he furrowed his brows, “Away from Sean?”
Harry pulled back in slight surprise, “Only for a few days…”
“But won’t she be lonely?” Teddy asked in confusion.
Sean put a soft hand on his back, “I’ll be okay, sweetheart, your godfather just wants to spend some time with you since he’s had to be away for a while…” She gave him a reassuring smile.
“And you won’t be sad?” The five year old pushed out his bottom lip as Harry sighed heavily.
Sean laughed quietly, “Of course I’ll be sad, I’ll miss you – but it’s only a few days and I’m a just call or an Apparition away, alright?”
Teddy held out his arms towards her and Harry released him so Sean could hold him as he squeezed her in a hug. “Do I have to leave now?” he whispered into her ear.
She opened her eyes and glanced at Harry, then let Teddy pull up so she could look in his eyes, “No, not now. Harry’ll give me a call in a few days to set it up, okay?” Harry and Teddy both nodded, though Teddy looked much more relieved whereas Harry remained tense. “Come on, what do you say we head home?” He nodded, still in her arms, and they made their way towards the front of the house to say ‘goodnight’ to everyone before leaving. Teddy’s eyelids had already started to droop threateningly before they made it out the door, but he was finally buckled in his car seat and they were on their way soon enough.
Sean glanced at the blonde-haired boy in the rearview mirror and smiled as she Felt him drift away into slumber, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from the memory that had begun to play like a movie in her mind as she drove on into the night…
She was sitting upright in her office chair at her desk, staring blankly at her mobile while trying to determine if the conversation she just had actually happened. Had she imagined it? Did she dose off while working and dream it? Pride and unadulterated happiness began to swell inside her, and she knew that it had been real. She heard the lock ‘click’ and the front door swing open, and she pushed the chair back and moved around her desk and out of the study into the open living area of the flat. She waited for Harry to close the door and turn around before welcoming him home. “Hey!” she exclaimed with a massive grin as she kissed him briefly, “I have the best news!”
“Ugh, I had the worst day.” Harry grumbled as he turned away from her to hang up his snow-covered jacket.
Sean pulled back and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion – had he not heard her? Was he ignoring her? She finally Felt his frustration begin to prickle into her like tiny negative needles popping her happy balloons, and she sighed heavily, “What happened?” Her news would have to wait, again.
She moved into the sitting area and perched herself on the armrest of one of their white couches while Harry began to pace back and forth in front of the coffee table, their Christmas tree glowing off to the side. “You know Rita Skeeter’s latest book?” Sean nodded, but he didn’t look at her for confirmation. “Well, in it she called Ron my ‘sidekick’, and he blew up at me today and said that it’s costing him the better assignments!”
Sean sighed. “He didn’t mean it, Harry – he’s been really stressed lately with everything that’s going on with him and Hermione…” she offered soothingly.
Harry tensed his hands and continued to pace as he grunted. “Why could she just say ‘yes’ when he asked her to move in?!”
His frustration at both Ron and Hermione was unsettling, but Sean answered him anyway. “Because she’s not ready for that, and neither is Ron if you ask me…”
Harry stopped pacing and looked at her for the first time, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Harry… don’t you think it’s a bit coincidental that Ron asked her to move in six months after we started living together? Ron thought he owed it to her, that he needed to ask so she would think he was serious… but neither of them are really ready for that step.” She sighed and ran a hand through her chocolate brown hair, “I know they’ve been going through this rough patch for a while now—”
“Seven months.” Harry grumbled.
“…but they’ll work it out; I mean, they’re still together and still in love – just dealing with some issues, that’s all.” She had tried to soothe Harry’s irritation and defend her friends at the same time, but his aggravation remained and she sighed before continuing. “Their relationship is just a bit more… complicated… than ours.”
Harry folded his arms across his chest defensively and narrowed his eyes ever-so-slightly at her, “Well, you didn’t live with me right away, either.”
Sean felt herself pull back in slight shock, “What?”
“You lived with George for five months before we lived together…” he muttered quietly, yet accusingly.
She stood up and cocked her head to the side, somewhat affronted, “I lived with George until you asked me to move in. Besides, it was right after Fred died – we needed each other, to be together.”
Harry threw up his hands dramatically. “What exactly does ‘together’ mean?!”
All of his frustration at Ron and Hermione rapidly redirected towards her, causing her alarm to mingle with his growing anger all at once inside her. “You know nothing happened between us – don’t pretend to be some victim when there wasn’t even a crime committed.” Despite her rising anger, she managed to speak calmly and clearly.
“Am I just supposed to take your word for it?” Harry yelled at her this time, suddenly and forcefully.
Sean stepped back in shock, but didn’t cower. “Yes, and you did! He’s getting married for Merlin’s sake! You didn’t even start questioning anything until nearly five months ago! And ever since then all we do is argue over the same things over and over!” She held out her hand and started to count things off on her fingers, mimicking Harry’s paranoia. “What happened between me and George - why I won’t help out at the office – why you cannot even try to be positive – why we don’t talk about our future – why you refuse to talk about the prophecy—”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Harry grumbled curtly.
“See? That’s what I mean!” She walked around the coffee table and stood in front of him, lowering her voice and speaking softly, “If anyone knows what it’s like after a prophecy about you has been fulfilled, it’s me…” They both sighed together, and Sean Felt him begin to calm down, “I know it’s hard and you’re trying to find purpose—”
“Ugh!” Harry rolled his eyes and turned his back on her, walking away a few steps in front of her. “You don’t know anything.”
She exhaled heavily and folded her arms dejectedly over her chest. “Yeah, I do, Harry… it kills me that you’re frustrated and depressed all the time, but at some point you have to take responsibility for yourself – you’re an adult now, it’s time to start acting like one.” Her words were harsh, but she had tried to say them as gently as possible – they needed to be said.
Sean saw Harry’s shoulders and back tense up as she Felt anger begin to reignite inside him, and he balled his fists as he spun around and began to yell at her. “An adult? Like you?! Always Seeing into other people’s emotions even though you’re not welcome?! You want to talk about my emotions? My responsibility?! Take a look in the mirror, Sean!”
“What is that supposed to mean? And since when am I not welcome?” Sean scoffed as tears began to form behind her green eyes.
“You know exactly what it means – running off to live with the centaurs for a year while I fought Voldemort… you’ve got some nerve…” Harry turned away from her and began to walk towards the dining area of their flat.
She came up behind him and grabbed his left forearm, spinning him around to face her. “Don’t walk away from me – not again! And ‘running off’? You told me we couldn’t be together until it was over! What did you think I was going to do, just sit around until he found me again?! I went where I could be safe, and keep you safe as well!” She hated the pleading tone in her voice, but she couldn’t suppress it.
Harry rolled his eyes and sneered at her, “Whatever, Sean, believe whatever you want. Just stay out of my emotions from now on.”
He turned to walk away from her again, and she followed him into the kitchen. “You know I can’t help it, Harry! I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t even want it!”
“Oh, please, like you don’t relish in the fact that you always know how everyone is feeling before they themselves do. Stop trying to be such a martyr, we all know who really killed Dumbledore.” He said it off the cuff, as if it was a throwaway insult, but it felt like the Cruciatus Curse all over again.
Horrible, maddening silence and static passed in between them like lightning as they shot daggers at each other with their eyes. Sean took a deep breath and mustered all her composure and strength to stay calm, “I know things haven’t been easy for you lately, but you cannot drag me through the dirt because you can’t stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
Harry leaned against the counter almost casually, as if he was satisfied with how much he had hurt her. “Yeah? Well, maybe I’m just tired of dragging you along with me.”
She stepped back from him, completely abashed and stunned at his brass and coldness. “Is that what you really want?” she asked in a quiet voice, and he simply shrugged his shoulders. Immediately, Sean Felt his emotions drain from her, and she knew she was no longer able to Feel him Empathically. “Fine. I’ll get my things tomorrow.” She turned and left the kitchen, her body moving awkwardly in an unfamiliar pace as she grabbed her coat and clutch from the living room and opened the door. She hesitated for a split-second, hoping to Feel something-anything from him, but all she could sense was the bitterly cold December wind blowing up the stairwell. “By the way, I made principle.” Sean muttered as she closed the door and headed for Diagon Alley.
Don't hate me! If you have any questions or comments, please review here!
thank you to everyone for your awesome reviews! well, chapter three is finally here... it's not terribly exciting, but there is some catching up that's done so you can get more of a feel as to where sean is (and it should answer the 'principle' question as well 
). also, there is some very important information given in this chapter, so i hope you enjoy it! let me know!
Three: Trips and Transfiguration
The three weeks that passed in between Hermione and Ron’s engagement party and Teddy’s visit with his godfather seemed to fly by like fallen leaves in the wind. Sean hadn’t given much thought to Harry and their previous relationship after their last encounter, but had been spending most of her time working, shopping for a new preschool for Teddy, and preparing for her own three-day vacation to Hogsmeade in her adopted son’s absence.
Now, there were four suitcases stacked near the front door of her Kensington flat – only one of them belonging to her. “Okay, do you have all the toys you want to take packed?” she asked Teddy as he went through his rucksack again.
“I think so…” he finally concluded, zipping up his bag and placing it with his suitcases. Sean had just gone into the kitchen to get his Montrose Magpies lunchbox when the doorbell rang and he yelled out, “HE’S HERE! HE’S HERE!”
She smiled to herself as she pulled his kit out of the refrigerator and heard him open the front door, “Hey, Teddy!” Harry’s voice drifted in on the wind as the door closed quietly.
“I’ve got all my toys packed and my books and my clothes and I’m ready to go!” Teddy exclaimed excitedly.
“That’s great, buddy!” Sean heard him grunt as he picked up his godson, and she turned out of the kitchen and leaned on the doorway as she watched them. “Hey…” Harry said quietly, noticing her for the first time.
Sean saw him eye her carefully and she tugged on her green tank top over her form-fitting jeans, “Hey.” She sighed heavily and walked over to him to hand him Teddy’s lunch kit, “This is Teddy’s lunch for today – please take note of what’s in it and try not to feed him too many fried things at dinner.” Harry took the kit and raised an eyebrow at the logo, but Sean simply brushed her curls out of her face and turned to his luggage, “Okay, this suitcase is Teddy’s day clothes - let him pick out what he wants to wear - this one is his nightclothes, and this one is his stuffed animal, blanket, and pillow that he has to have. If anything should happen, he has three sets of extra clothes for both day and night. Oh, and he packed some of his toys in his rucksack as well.”
Harry sighed heavily as he glanced from suitcase to suitcase. “It’s only three days and two nights, Sean.”
She adjusted her gaze from Harry to Teddy and smiled softly, “Why don’t you go and get your nightlight, sweetheart, just in case?”
“Okay!” Teddy squirmed out of his godfather’s arms and rushed around the corner and up the stairs to his room on the second floor of their flat.
“This is his first time staying away from me for a single night, let alone two, since he entered my custody over a year ago – I don’t want him to be anxious.” Sean pleaded with Harry.
He pulled out his wand and tapped two of the suitcases to shrink them, then placed him in his pockets. “Everything’ll be fine. Besides, you’re only an Apparition away.”
“That reminds me…” Sean reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Harry, “Just in case you forgot, this is the flat number, my mobile number, and my room number at the Hog’s Head.”
Harry pulled back and furrowed his brows as he took the note, “Wait, you’re going to Hogsmeade?”
Sean shrugged as casually as possible, “Yeah, I figured it’d be nice to get away for a while since I’m off work… and Aberforth gave me a good deal.”
He opened his mouth as if he was about to protest or question her further, but Teddy came bolting around the corner and ran into Harry’s legs, holding out a nightlight in the shape of a wizard hat. “READY!”
Harry laughed quietly, “Alright, say ‘goodbye’ to Sean and we’ll hit the road.”
Teddy turned around, suddenly sullen and pouting as she bent down to receive his hug. “Have fun with your godfather, and don’t forget to remind him to read you Goodnight Moon at bedtime.”
“What about Through the Looking Glass?” Teddy asked sadly.
Sean smiled and pulled back to look into his eyes, “That’s our book – we’ll finish it when you get back. I love you, Teddy.”
Teddy threw his arms around her again and squeezed her tightly. “I love you, too. Don’t miss me too much, kay?”
“No can-do, kid.” Teddy released her and smiled, then moved beside Harry and took his hand as they exited the flat. He didn’t stop waving until they turned to corner to go down the staircase, and Sean closed the front door with a heavy sigh – she knew he would be fine, but it didn’t stop her from worrying. She glanced to her watch, then resumed packing and cleaning to make it to Hogsmeade – and Hogwarts – by lunchtime.
* * * * * *
All kinds of weird, nostalgic feelings flowed through her body as her high-heeled black boots thumped on the cold, stone floors of Hogwarts Castle. She had changed before she left the flat to look slightly more ‘put-together’, wearing a gray pleated skirt about three inches above her knees and a very fitted crimson jacket (she had debated wearing green, but she decided house colors would be best). She had even lengthened her hair and changed it to a darker blonde, as well as altering her facial shape ever-so-slightly, so she wouldn’t be recognized just yet. Still, she knew who she was as she roamed the castle halls, and she couldn’t help but check around her every so often for Mrs. Norris.
After about twenty minutes of aimless wandering, she finally made her way towards the Headmistress’ Office – a place she knew all-too-well. She reached the stone gargoyle and fished out a piece of parchment from her jacket and unfolded it; glancing at the note, she confidently stated “Plum juice.”
The gargoyle leapt aside, and Sean stepped onto the revolving staircase as it led her up to the office door; she only had to knock the cat-shaped fixture once before a stern voice beckoned, “Enter.” With a heavy, anxious sigh, she pushed the door open and entered the Headmistress’ Office. It was different than the last time she was there, granted there was a different Headmaster at the time, but it was still full of Gryffindor gold and scarlet. She noticed right away that it seemed to be less cluttered, though (if it was possible) there seemed to be many more books than she remembered. There was a low purr and her eyes darted to the desk in fear that Mrs. Norris had somehow invaded the office, but she found a friendly-looking tabby cat pacing back and forth on the desk. Finally, the Headmistress looked up from her parchment and gave Sean a piercing stare, “Can I help you?”
Sean seemed to wake out of her observatory-stupor, “Oh! Sorry, I... ahm... have an appointment.”
Professor McGonagall looked exactly the same, right down to her emerald green robes and tight bun. “All appointments have been scheduled; I am sorry, but I am not taking anymore.”
McGonagall turned back to her parchment, informally dismissing Sean, who paused in confusion for a moment. “Ahm, but I am on the schedule, Professor…”
The Headmistress sighed heavily, then shuffled some parchments around as she searched for her schedule. “It is twelve noon, and I my appointment for the rest of the day is Sean Kiernan. Since you are not Sean Kiernan, I suggest you write me a post of when you would like an appointment and send it to me at least a week in advance. Good day.”
Sean couldn’t help herself and grinned; she remembered that she had transfigured herself to avoid recognition. “Professor?”
“What is it?” McGonagall groaned as she glanced up to her former student again, and Sean let her forefinger twitch as she let her face return to its natural appearance and her hair return to its current style. It took the Headmistress a moment to take her in, then exclaimed, “Oh!” and she rose from her seat to give Sean a hug and a proper welcome. “I’m so sorry, my dear! I didn’t think you would be transfiguring!” McGonagall gestured to the armchair in front of her desk as she resumed her position behind it.
“No, don’t apologize – I didn’t warn you. I just wanted a little anonymity when I first arrived.” Sean grinned.
“Of course, of course.” McGonagall was beaming at her, and Sean could Feel her relief and pride filling the whole room. “Well, I was thinking we might start with a look around the school, if you like, before you meet with the sixth year NEWT students. After that, you can go over the grounds for a bit before you meet with the seventh years…” she gave her a little smirk with the last comment.
Sean laughed softly to herself. “Do the students know I’m coming?”
“We told them we would be having a speaker, but we didn’t give you away… wanted the element of surprise, and all.” The former Head of House was positively beside herself with caged excitement.
“Well, I’ve already seen most of the castle, why don’t we head to the sixth years?” Sean offered.
“Fantastic!” McGonagall clapped her hands together and rose from her seat as Sean followed suit. They descended the staircase and proceeded towards the first floor of the castle. “The students are currently in Transfiguration, so it appears your timing is perfect!”
Sean laughed, “For once. I heard a rumor you’re retiring after this year, Professor, is that true?”
McGonagall laughed heartily, much more relaxed than Sean had ever seen her as a student. “Oh, yes, well… I’ve decided to spend some time with my nieces in the south of Wales. I knew being a Headmistress was always an especially temporary position for me, and I believe Professor Sprout is ready to assume to role.”
“Well, I can’t speak from experience, but I’ve heard you’ve done a remarkable job these past five years, Professor.” Sean smiled as she relaxed.
“Thank you, dear, but it’s definitely time to retire… especially after the Transfiguration fiasco.” McGonagall rolled her eyes.
Sean nodded, “I heard about that. You hired him only a few years ago as a professor and Head of House and he just disappears? What happened?”
The Headmistress sighed. “No one knows, I’m afraid, but his family thinks he decided to start living as an animagus fulltime.”
“What was his animagus?” she asked as the slowed down upon their approach to the Transfiguration classroom.
McGonagall raised a knowing eyebrow, “A horsefly. Now, why don’t you disguise yourself while I introduce the students to their speaker?” Sean, still biting her lip to keep from laughing, nodded in agreement and she let her forefinger twitch as McGonagall headed into the classroom. A few minutes later, she returned and led Sean into the class filled with all the sixth year Transfiguration students. “Now, you can ask our speaker questions to determine her true identity, and then all will be revealed.” McGonagall’s voice had changed to become quite stern as she spoke in front of the students, but she gave Sean a small wink to let her know everything was fine.
Sean made her way to the front of the classroom and leaned backwards on the desk, somewhat intimidated by all the boredom she could Feel resonating from the students. “Uh, who’s first?”
“What’s your name?” One student shouted out as a few others laughed quietly.
“Uh-uh, that’s cheating, Vastly.” Sean turned to see the new Transfiguration professor emerge from the shadows on the other side of the classroom. He was rather severe-looking at first glance, with chin-length black hair and matching black eyes, but there was a kind of warmth in his voice that seemed to diminish his cold appearance. “Try again.”
“Do you have a job?” A brown-haired girl in the front row asked with narrowed, questioning eyes.
Sean pushed herself back onto the desk to sit and crossed her heels. “Actually, I have two.”
“Are you married?” An eager-looking boy in the third row questioned, and she Felt all the males lean forward in anticipation.
She laughed softly. “No, not married.”
“Boyfriend?” Someone called out hopefully.
“Yes, I do have a boyfriend.” Sean nodded, and she Felt many hopes dissolve.
“Did you go to Hogwarts?”
“Yes, but I didn’t graduate.” That seemed to peak everyone’s interest, and she Felt questions begin to stir in almost every student.
“How old are you?”
“I just turned twenty-three last month.” she admitted.
“What house were you in?”
Sean grinned, “Gryffindor, of course.” A few people clapped and cheered.
“Where are you from?”
“I’m half-Irish and half-English, and I live in London.” At this last admission, she Felt one person’s excitement come to a peak.
“And you’re twenty-three?” A voice in the back asked.
“Yes…”
The boy scooted out of his desk and came closer to the front of the room, “What’s your favorite Quidditch team?”
Sean grinned – she knew he had figured it out. “The Montrose Magpies, who else?”
His face lit up and he grinned, “I know who it is!”
The professor Sean didn’t know leaned against the wall, relaxed. “Well, who is it, Retice?”
“SEAN KIERNAN!” The boy blurted out, and every student’s excitement grew so rapidly that it made Sean dizzy.
“Alright, alright…” The professor began, trying to subdue their cheering, and he turned to Sean, “Is he correct?”
She let her forefinger twitch as she transfigured back to her regular appearance, and the students broke out in applause. “Thank you very much for having me today. Your professor has kindly agreed to have me come to answer some questions you guys might have about your Transfiguration NEWTs…”
“How did you get to be a Chaser on the Montrose Magpies?!” The same boy asked quickly.
“Er..." Sean looked to the professor for his approval of the question, and he waved his hand to let her answer, "Lots and lots of hard work. I started Chasing on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in my second year, and I went to one of the recruitment camps after I turned eighteen and I was drafted right away.”
“What about the English National Team? What was it like winning the World Cup last year?” Another boy asked.
Sean laughed, “It was an amazing experience, one I hope to repeat in three years’ time.” A few people cheered.
“You said you have two jobs – what’s your other one?” Another boy asked, and she noticed the green and silver emblem on his robes.
“Duh, she’s a ballet dancer!” One girl answered, with a yellow and black crest on her robes.
“She’s right; during the Quidditch off-season I’m a principle dancer for the Royal Ballet and vice versa. I am very lucky that the two happen to work out that way, because I get to do two of the things I love.” Sean smiled as she ran a hand through her hair.
“Are you really the muggle prime minister’s daughter?” The first girl’s friend asked, desperately intrigued.
“Yeah, she is – look!” Another girl sitting behind them whipped out a muggle tabloid and showed them the cover, which was (yet another) picture of Sean and Teddy out and about in London.
“Yes, I am.” Sean sighed heavily, then pointed lazily to the girl with the magazine, “And don’t believe anything you read about me in those things!”
“Is it true you really dated Harry Potter?” Another girl.
Sean hung her head for a moment before answering, but the professor cut in, “Alright, that’s enough about that. You guys have one of the only Metamorphmagi in the world in your classroom, and you’re asking about her personal life? Sheesh, I want to see what she can do!”
She picked up her head and smiled thankfully at the professor, who gave her an appreciative nod as the class was suddenly buzzing with transfiguration requests. The professor walked over beside her and leaned in to whisper, “Sorry about that, it’s a hazard of being around sixteen year olds.”
“I understand.” Sean laughed as she slid off the desk to stand, “I don’t think we’ve met before…”
“I’m Professor Estran, call me Rhode.” For the first time, his black eyes seem to truly meet hers, and they pierced her like fire. He didn’t Feel weird at all, but there was something hidden in his eyes… something that sent a shiver down her spine as they locked gazes. It made her uneasy and worried, but more than anything – it frightened her.
He blinked and looked away to start taking requests, and Sean had a hard time remembering why she had been so scared all of a sudden.
I hope that answers a few of your questions! If you have any more or want to leave a review (), please click here!
). also, there is some very important information given in this chapter, so i hope you enjoy it! let me know!Three: Trips and Transfiguration
The three weeks that passed in between Hermione and Ron’s engagement party and Teddy’s visit with his godfather seemed to fly by like fallen leaves in the wind. Sean hadn’t given much thought to Harry and their previous relationship after their last encounter, but had been spending most of her time working, shopping for a new preschool for Teddy, and preparing for her own three-day vacation to Hogsmeade in her adopted son’s absence.
Now, there were four suitcases stacked near the front door of her Kensington flat – only one of them belonging to her. “Okay, do you have all the toys you want to take packed?” she asked Teddy as he went through his rucksack again.
“I think so…” he finally concluded, zipping up his bag and placing it with his suitcases. Sean had just gone into the kitchen to get his Montrose Magpies lunchbox when the doorbell rang and he yelled out, “HE’S HERE! HE’S HERE!”
She smiled to herself as she pulled his kit out of the refrigerator and heard him open the front door, “Hey, Teddy!” Harry’s voice drifted in on the wind as the door closed quietly.
“I’ve got all my toys packed and my books and my clothes and I’m ready to go!” Teddy exclaimed excitedly.
“That’s great, buddy!” Sean heard him grunt as he picked up his godson, and she turned out of the kitchen and leaned on the doorway as she watched them. “Hey…” Harry said quietly, noticing her for the first time.
Sean saw him eye her carefully and she tugged on her green tank top over her form-fitting jeans, “Hey.” She sighed heavily and walked over to him to hand him Teddy’s lunch kit, “This is Teddy’s lunch for today – please take note of what’s in it and try not to feed him too many fried things at dinner.” Harry took the kit and raised an eyebrow at the logo, but Sean simply brushed her curls out of her face and turned to his luggage, “Okay, this suitcase is Teddy’s day clothes - let him pick out what he wants to wear - this one is his nightclothes, and this one is his stuffed animal, blanket, and pillow that he has to have. If anything should happen, he has three sets of extra clothes for both day and night. Oh, and he packed some of his toys in his rucksack as well.”
Harry sighed heavily as he glanced from suitcase to suitcase. “It’s only three days and two nights, Sean.”
She adjusted her gaze from Harry to Teddy and smiled softly, “Why don’t you go and get your nightlight, sweetheart, just in case?”
“Okay!” Teddy squirmed out of his godfather’s arms and rushed around the corner and up the stairs to his room on the second floor of their flat.
“This is his first time staying away from me for a single night, let alone two, since he entered my custody over a year ago – I don’t want him to be anxious.” Sean pleaded with Harry.
He pulled out his wand and tapped two of the suitcases to shrink them, then placed him in his pockets. “Everything’ll be fine. Besides, you’re only an Apparition away.”
“That reminds me…” Sean reached into her back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Harry, “Just in case you forgot, this is the flat number, my mobile number, and my room number at the Hog’s Head.”
Harry pulled back and furrowed his brows as he took the note, “Wait, you’re going to Hogsmeade?”
Sean shrugged as casually as possible, “Yeah, I figured it’d be nice to get away for a while since I’m off work… and Aberforth gave me a good deal.”
He opened his mouth as if he was about to protest or question her further, but Teddy came bolting around the corner and ran into Harry’s legs, holding out a nightlight in the shape of a wizard hat. “READY!”
Harry laughed quietly, “Alright, say ‘goodbye’ to Sean and we’ll hit the road.”
Teddy turned around, suddenly sullen and pouting as she bent down to receive his hug. “Have fun with your godfather, and don’t forget to remind him to read you Goodnight Moon at bedtime.”
“What about Through the Looking Glass?” Teddy asked sadly.
Sean smiled and pulled back to look into his eyes, “That’s our book – we’ll finish it when you get back. I love you, Teddy.”
Teddy threw his arms around her again and squeezed her tightly. “I love you, too. Don’t miss me too much, kay?”
“No can-do, kid.” Teddy released her and smiled, then moved beside Harry and took his hand as they exited the flat. He didn’t stop waving until they turned to corner to go down the staircase, and Sean closed the front door with a heavy sigh – she knew he would be fine, but it didn’t stop her from worrying. She glanced to her watch, then resumed packing and cleaning to make it to Hogsmeade – and Hogwarts – by lunchtime.
* * * * * *
All kinds of weird, nostalgic feelings flowed through her body as her high-heeled black boots thumped on the cold, stone floors of Hogwarts Castle. She had changed before she left the flat to look slightly more ‘put-together’, wearing a gray pleated skirt about three inches above her knees and a very fitted crimson jacket (she had debated wearing green, but she decided house colors would be best). She had even lengthened her hair and changed it to a darker blonde, as well as altering her facial shape ever-so-slightly, so she wouldn’t be recognized just yet. Still, she knew who she was as she roamed the castle halls, and she couldn’t help but check around her every so often for Mrs. Norris.
After about twenty minutes of aimless wandering, she finally made her way towards the Headmistress’ Office – a place she knew all-too-well. She reached the stone gargoyle and fished out a piece of parchment from her jacket and unfolded it; glancing at the note, she confidently stated “Plum juice.”
The gargoyle leapt aside, and Sean stepped onto the revolving staircase as it led her up to the office door; she only had to knock the cat-shaped fixture once before a stern voice beckoned, “Enter.” With a heavy, anxious sigh, she pushed the door open and entered the Headmistress’ Office. It was different than the last time she was there, granted there was a different Headmaster at the time, but it was still full of Gryffindor gold and scarlet. She noticed right away that it seemed to be less cluttered, though (if it was possible) there seemed to be many more books than she remembered. There was a low purr and her eyes darted to the desk in fear that Mrs. Norris had somehow invaded the office, but she found a friendly-looking tabby cat pacing back and forth on the desk. Finally, the Headmistress looked up from her parchment and gave Sean a piercing stare, “Can I help you?”
Sean seemed to wake out of her observatory-stupor, “Oh! Sorry, I... ahm... have an appointment.”
Professor McGonagall looked exactly the same, right down to her emerald green robes and tight bun. “All appointments have been scheduled; I am sorry, but I am not taking anymore.”
McGonagall turned back to her parchment, informally dismissing Sean, who paused in confusion for a moment. “Ahm, but I am on the schedule, Professor…”
The Headmistress sighed heavily, then shuffled some parchments around as she searched for her schedule. “It is twelve noon, and I my appointment for the rest of the day is Sean Kiernan. Since you are not Sean Kiernan, I suggest you write me a post of when you would like an appointment and send it to me at least a week in advance. Good day.”
Sean couldn’t help herself and grinned; she remembered that she had transfigured herself to avoid recognition. “Professor?”
“What is it?” McGonagall groaned as she glanced up to her former student again, and Sean let her forefinger twitch as she let her face return to its natural appearance and her hair return to its current style. It took the Headmistress a moment to take her in, then exclaimed, “Oh!” and she rose from her seat to give Sean a hug and a proper welcome. “I’m so sorry, my dear! I didn’t think you would be transfiguring!” McGonagall gestured to the armchair in front of her desk as she resumed her position behind it.
“No, don’t apologize – I didn’t warn you. I just wanted a little anonymity when I first arrived.” Sean grinned.
“Of course, of course.” McGonagall was beaming at her, and Sean could Feel her relief and pride filling the whole room. “Well, I was thinking we might start with a look around the school, if you like, before you meet with the sixth year NEWT students. After that, you can go over the grounds for a bit before you meet with the seventh years…” she gave her a little smirk with the last comment.
Sean laughed softly to herself. “Do the students know I’m coming?”
“We told them we would be having a speaker, but we didn’t give you away… wanted the element of surprise, and all.” The former Head of House was positively beside herself with caged excitement.
“Well, I’ve already seen most of the castle, why don’t we head to the sixth years?” Sean offered.
“Fantastic!” McGonagall clapped her hands together and rose from her seat as Sean followed suit. They descended the staircase and proceeded towards the first floor of the castle. “The students are currently in Transfiguration, so it appears your timing is perfect!”
Sean laughed, “For once. I heard a rumor you’re retiring after this year, Professor, is that true?”
McGonagall laughed heartily, much more relaxed than Sean had ever seen her as a student. “Oh, yes, well… I’ve decided to spend some time with my nieces in the south of Wales. I knew being a Headmistress was always an especially temporary position for me, and I believe Professor Sprout is ready to assume to role.”
“Well, I can’t speak from experience, but I’ve heard you’ve done a remarkable job these past five years, Professor.” Sean smiled as she relaxed.
“Thank you, dear, but it’s definitely time to retire… especially after the Transfiguration fiasco.” McGonagall rolled her eyes.
Sean nodded, “I heard about that. You hired him only a few years ago as a professor and Head of House and he just disappears? What happened?”
The Headmistress sighed. “No one knows, I’m afraid, but his family thinks he decided to start living as an animagus fulltime.”
“What was his animagus?” she asked as the slowed down upon their approach to the Transfiguration classroom.
McGonagall raised a knowing eyebrow, “A horsefly. Now, why don’t you disguise yourself while I introduce the students to their speaker?” Sean, still biting her lip to keep from laughing, nodded in agreement and she let her forefinger twitch as McGonagall headed into the classroom. A few minutes later, she returned and led Sean into the class filled with all the sixth year Transfiguration students. “Now, you can ask our speaker questions to determine her true identity, and then all will be revealed.” McGonagall’s voice had changed to become quite stern as she spoke in front of the students, but she gave Sean a small wink to let her know everything was fine.
Sean made her way to the front of the classroom and leaned backwards on the desk, somewhat intimidated by all the boredom she could Feel resonating from the students. “Uh, who’s first?”
“What’s your name?” One student shouted out as a few others laughed quietly.
“Uh-uh, that’s cheating, Vastly.” Sean turned to see the new Transfiguration professor emerge from the shadows on the other side of the classroom. He was rather severe-looking at first glance, with chin-length black hair and matching black eyes, but there was a kind of warmth in his voice that seemed to diminish his cold appearance. “Try again.”
“Do you have a job?” A brown-haired girl in the front row asked with narrowed, questioning eyes.
Sean pushed herself back onto the desk to sit and crossed her heels. “Actually, I have two.”
“Are you married?” An eager-looking boy in the third row questioned, and she Felt all the males lean forward in anticipation.
She laughed softly. “No, not married.”
“Boyfriend?” Someone called out hopefully.
“Yes, I do have a boyfriend.” Sean nodded, and she Felt many hopes dissolve.
“Did you go to Hogwarts?”
“Yes, but I didn’t graduate.” That seemed to peak everyone’s interest, and she Felt questions begin to stir in almost every student.
“How old are you?”
“I just turned twenty-three last month.” she admitted.
“What house were you in?”
Sean grinned, “Gryffindor, of course.” A few people clapped and cheered.
“Where are you from?”
“I’m half-Irish and half-English, and I live in London.” At this last admission, she Felt one person’s excitement come to a peak.
“And you’re twenty-three?” A voice in the back asked.
“Yes…”
The boy scooted out of his desk and came closer to the front of the room, “What’s your favorite Quidditch team?”
Sean grinned – she knew he had figured it out. “The Montrose Magpies, who else?”
His face lit up and he grinned, “I know who it is!”
The professor Sean didn’t know leaned against the wall, relaxed. “Well, who is it, Retice?”
“SEAN KIERNAN!” The boy blurted out, and every student’s excitement grew so rapidly that it made Sean dizzy.
“Alright, alright…” The professor began, trying to subdue their cheering, and he turned to Sean, “Is he correct?”
She let her forefinger twitch as she transfigured back to her regular appearance, and the students broke out in applause. “Thank you very much for having me today. Your professor has kindly agreed to have me come to answer some questions you guys might have about your Transfiguration NEWTs…”
“How did you get to be a Chaser on the Montrose Magpies?!” The same boy asked quickly.
“Er..." Sean looked to the professor for his approval of the question, and he waved his hand to let her answer, "Lots and lots of hard work. I started Chasing on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in my second year, and I went to one of the recruitment camps after I turned eighteen and I was drafted right away.”
“What about the English National Team? What was it like winning the World Cup last year?” Another boy asked.
Sean laughed, “It was an amazing experience, one I hope to repeat in three years’ time.” A few people cheered.
“You said you have two jobs – what’s your other one?” Another boy asked, and she noticed the green and silver emblem on his robes.
“Duh, she’s a ballet dancer!” One girl answered, with a yellow and black crest on her robes.
“She’s right; during the Quidditch off-season I’m a principle dancer for the Royal Ballet and vice versa. I am very lucky that the two happen to work out that way, because I get to do two of the things I love.” Sean smiled as she ran a hand through her hair.
“Are you really the muggle prime minister’s daughter?” The first girl’s friend asked, desperately intrigued.
“Yeah, she is – look!” Another girl sitting behind them whipped out a muggle tabloid and showed them the cover, which was (yet another) picture of Sean and Teddy out and about in London.
“Yes, I am.” Sean sighed heavily, then pointed lazily to the girl with the magazine, “And don’t believe anything you read about me in those things!”
“Is it true you really dated Harry Potter?” Another girl.
Sean hung her head for a moment before answering, but the professor cut in, “Alright, that’s enough about that. You guys have one of the only Metamorphmagi in the world in your classroom, and you’re asking about her personal life? Sheesh, I want to see what she can do!”
She picked up her head and smiled thankfully at the professor, who gave her an appreciative nod as the class was suddenly buzzing with transfiguration requests. The professor walked over beside her and leaned in to whisper, “Sorry about that, it’s a hazard of being around sixteen year olds.”
“I understand.” Sean laughed as she slid off the desk to stand, “I don’t think we’ve met before…”
“I’m Professor Estran, call me Rhode.” For the first time, his black eyes seem to truly meet hers, and they pierced her like fire. He didn’t Feel weird at all, but there was something hidden in his eyes… something that sent a shiver down her spine as they locked gazes. It made her uneasy and worried, but more than anything – it frightened her.
He blinked and looked away to start taking requests, and Sean had a hard time remembering why she had been so scared all of a sudden.
I hope that answers a few of your questions! If you have any more or want to leave a review (
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The moment has arrived... you finally get to meet the boyfriend! And lance, how is it you can always predict what's going to happen? 
Anyway, I hope you like it!
Four: Different Forms of Family
After many, many transfiguration demonstrations to both the sixth and seventh year students, Sean was completely worn out. She had forgotten how forceful and overwrought teenage emotions Felt, and she decided to take the walk she hadn’t had time for earlier around the grounds to get away from them all for a while. It was funny how everything looked so different in only a few short years, but (she reminded herself) she was much more used to seeing the grounds in the dark on illicit trips to the Forbidden Forest… which reminded her…
She changed her circular pace around the castle and headed for the Forest with feelings of relief and excitement all at once. She had only taken a few steps on the brush-covered ground when a sense of belonging began to radiate from somewhere deep within her, and she welcomed the familiar tug downwards into her animagus form. As a gray wolf, it only took her another ten minutes of jogging to reach her intended destination, and she passed confidently under the archway made by two expansive oak trees into the valley that lay beyond.
Immediately, a large chestnut centaur stepped into her path with a raised bow pointed at her lowered, wolfish head, and Sean felt a rush upwards as she transfigured back into her human form. “As June burns bright in the sky and my soul, I have returned to see my family.”
“Sabriel, welcome home…” a deep voice said gently, and she looked up into a familiar smiling face.
“Hakan! You have become a Guardian!” Sean exclaimed as she clasped hands with the former Warrior centaur.
Hakan beamed at her, “It was my time. Your visit has been foretold, your father is expecting you.” He nodded towards the small group of the elite Warrior centaurs in between the Hunters and the Guardians.
Sean returned his nod in thanks and made her way over to them quietly, taking a knee and bowing her head as she approached the largest and wisest-looking centaur. “Father,” she said simply, and she picked her head up as she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Welcome home, daughter.” Ronan smiled serenely down at her, his strong face much more worn than it had been the last time she had visited nearly two years earlier.
She rose to her feet and began to walk side-by-side with her centaurian father as they drifted away from the rest of the Warriors to talk in private. “I have missed you and your guidance over our many months apart.” Sean said respectfully; the restrained centaurian emotions in contrast to over-enthusiastic human sentiments were ingrained deep within her.
“As I have missed you, my first-born. Though your purpose lies elsewhere, I must admit it is difficult not to ask you to stay as my second.” Ronan spoke quietly – he was being much more revealing than most centaurs.
Sean turned to him in surprise, “And what of Bane? Does he not wish to succeed you, Father?”
Ronan sighed heavily as they moved towards the two oak trees that separated the centaur valley from the rest of the Forest, and he turned to one of the Guardians, “Spyridon, I will return soon.” Spyridon nodded to him solemnly, then smiled at Sean and gave her a welcoming nod which she returned. As they stepped out of the valley, Ronan continued, “Bane is eager to prove his worth as a centaurian leader, but he yearns in earnest of his father’s respect.”
“Magorian?” Sean asked as a trickle of sadness went down her spine in remembrance of the centaur who had sacrificed himself to save her so many years ago.
“Yes. He fears he has not fulfilled his father’s legacy.” Ronan admitted.
Sean stopped walking and turned to him, “No centaur can replace another, each has their own purpose to the herd!” She was surprised at how fierce her voice came out, but then again, she had always been very protective of Magorian’s memory.
Ronan smiled sadly and placed a hand on her shoulder, “You are wise beyond your years, Sabriel, which is why it is my wish for you to stay.” Sean struggled with this for a moment, unsure of what to say, but Ronan sighed heavily and replaced his hands behind his back, “But it is not your purpose at this time. We must never set ourselves against the heavens, daughter, and I will not ask you to do so.”
They continued walking in silence, Sean in awe of her centaurian father’s restraint and faith in his herd – the same qualities she once had as a member of the same herd. “Father, I have a foal of my own now.”
Ronan turned to her, beaming with pride, “Who is his Mother and Guardian?”
“Their names were Nymphadora and Remus, but they returned to the skies… he is my son, now, though not quite ready for a name.” Sean smiled as she thought about Teddy’s own naming ceremony in the centaur herd many years away.
“Will you bring him here, to meet his family one day?” Ronan asked quietly, yet rather excitedly for a centaur.
“When he is old enough to understand, I will. It is my wish for him to be named among the herd one day, to be given a purpose as I have been.”
It was a request rather than a statement, but Ronan smiled back at her, “Any foal of my first-born is welcome among our herd.”
“Thank you, Father.” They continued walking slowly among the undergrowth of the Forest in comfortable silence until they neared the Hogwarts grounds, and Sean sighed heavily, “I have been regarding the stars, Father, and I am worried for our future.”
“As am I, my child.” They walked onto the grounds easily, unconcerned that they might be seen in the waning sunlight. “Mars has been growing brighter and brighter since your last visit, and I fear for your safety.”
Sean shivered slightly at his confirmation of her fears; she, too, had seen Mars – the bringer of war – grow brighter with each new moon. “I will always return home to you, Father…” she said quietly with furrowed brows, and she now understood why he was being so affectionate (for a centaur) – he was afraid he would not see her again.
Ronan hung his head slightly as they drew closer to the groundskeeper’s home, “I know you will always try.” She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by barking in the lit hut only ten meters away and closed her mouth instead. She turned her head to the dark sky that had covered them as they walked and watched the bright stars shimmering overhead, much clearer than she could ever see them in London. “June is bright tonight.” Ronan said casually.
She turned back to him, “It is always bright in my heart.”
“Be safe, my daughter – I want to meet this foal of yours one day.” He said with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Sean put her hand on his, “You will. Give my brother and sister my trust.”
He nodded with a sad smile, “Thera and Orn will be glad to hear it. Goodnight, Sabriel.”
She bent her knees slightly and bowed her head before turning and walking back up the grounds towards the castle. Her centaurian father’s anxiety left her uneasy, but she did her best to shake it off as she turned and made her way around the other side of the castle to a particular part of the grounds. It wasn’t long before she saw the bright green glow of the Hogwarts Greenhouses illuminating the grounds like a supernatural light, and she spotted a man in dark robes through the greenhouse glass as a grin stole over her face. She brushed the dirt from the Forest off her knees and straightened her jacket before she moved around to the back of the particular greenhouse with the man inside, and went in through the professor’s entrance into the steamy glass room. Peeking in, she saw his head lowered in concentration as he carefully clipped leaves from a Fanged Geranium, and she bit her bottom lip and snuck in noiselessly.
He was full of determined concentration, and she moved swiftly and quietly to some up right behind him to slide her arms by his sides, then wrapped them tightly around his waist and pulled him back as she exclaimed, “Gotcha!”
“What the hell?!” An unfamiliar voice yelled as he put his head back, and Sean Felt his anger and surprise as his long, dark hair dangled in front of her face for the first time.
She released him quickly and stepped back, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” He turned around, his face matching how livid he Felt, and she recognized the Transfiguration professor. “Professor Estran! I’m so sorry!”
It seemed to take him a minute to recognize her and he eyed her up and down a few times before his anger vanished suddenly, “Miss Kiernan! I apologize, I thought you were a student!”
Sean chanced a small smiled, “Really, so sorry… I thought you were Professor Longbottom…”
Professor Estran returned the smile, “He’s in his office by Greenhouse Three… I’m just collecting some Geranium leaves for a potion I’m making.”
“Do you teach Potions as well?” Sean asked in awe.
He laughed softly, “Oh, no – this is just for personal use. Transfiguration is quite enough, thank you. Oh, and thank you again for coming to speak with my NEWT students today, I think it really helped them to see how a Metamorphmagus transfigures.”
There was something that made her uneasy lurking behind his eyes, and Sean looked away to brush one of her loose curls behind her ear before turning back to him. “Anytime, Professor.”
She moved to walk around him to make her way towards Greenhouse Three, but he spoke quickly and almost hopefully before she had made it to the end of the table, “Please, call me Rhode.”
“Anytime, Rhode. I’ll see you around.” Sean said with a modest smile, and she exited the Greenhouse quickly as a faint shiver trickled down her spine. She walked swiftly to her intended Greenhouse, and made her way around the long table to the small room door in the back labeled ‘Professor Longbottom’.
Her grin returned quickly, and she rapped her knuckles on the door. “Come in!” a deep, warm voice invited, and she bit her bottom lip in excitement as she turned the handle and the door creaked open.
He was scribbling in red ink over a student’s essay, his light brown hair falling gracefully over his downcast eyes. “Can I help you?” he asked gently, though his eyes remained down at the parchment. Sean didn’t answer, but continued to gaze around his small, but welcoming office and the little curios it contained – her favorite being the picture frame of the two of them set atop one of the many Herbology books she had given him. “Can I help you?” he asked again, this time with a sigh, and he replaced his quill in the ink before looking up to her. Sean just smiled as his eyes grew wide, and he pushed his chair back and rushed around his desk to embrace her; he held her tightly for a few moments before pulling his head back and kissing her sweetly.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Sean laughed as he lowered his arms around her waist.
He was smiling so widely his cheeks had flushed, “I heard the kids talking about your visit to their classroom today – you made the lower years jealous.”
“Sorry it took so long for me to come see you – the students were exhausting and once I finished you were still in class, so I visited Ronan for a while.” She shrugged slightly, still grinning at the love and happiness from him that enveloped her with his arms.
“I was wondering why you were taking so long. Come on, why don’t we go get something to eat?” He grinned as he nudged his head towards the castle.
Sean raised a knowing eyebrow at him, “Won’t your students see us together?”
He shrugged and smiled, “Half of them already saw us on the platform, remember? Besides, being seen with you totally gives me points for the coolest professor award.” He kissed her again and released one arm to lead her out of his office.
“You are such a nerd.” Sean teased as she rolled her eyes.
Neville laughed, “Yeah, but you’re the one who loves me.”
Sean scoffed dramatically as the exited the Greenhouse, “Says who?”
He stopped and turned around, wrapping his arms around her again, “Says me.” Sean smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders as they kissed once more.
After a few moments, a deep voice from behind cleared their throat, “Ah-hem.”
Sean and Neville broke apart like two teenagers caught by their Head of House, but it was only Professor Estran. “Ahm, got all your leaves then, Professor?” Neville asked as his cheeks flushed, visible even in the darkness.
Professor Estran simply smiled through pursed lips, then turned and made his way up to the castle. Sean and Neville exchanged curious glances before breaking out in simultaneous laughter, after which Neville took her hand and they followed the Transfiguration professor back into the castle for dinner.
Well, there you have it. For more information about the boyfriend (and, you know, if you have any questions or comments) click here!
Anyway, I hope you like it!Four: Different Forms of Family
After many, many transfiguration demonstrations to both the sixth and seventh year students, Sean was completely worn out. She had forgotten how forceful and overwrought teenage emotions Felt, and she decided to take the walk she hadn’t had time for earlier around the grounds to get away from them all for a while. It was funny how everything looked so different in only a few short years, but (she reminded herself) she was much more used to seeing the grounds in the dark on illicit trips to the Forbidden Forest… which reminded her…
She changed her circular pace around the castle and headed for the Forest with feelings of relief and excitement all at once. She had only taken a few steps on the brush-covered ground when a sense of belonging began to radiate from somewhere deep within her, and she welcomed the familiar tug downwards into her animagus form. As a gray wolf, it only took her another ten minutes of jogging to reach her intended destination, and she passed confidently under the archway made by two expansive oak trees into the valley that lay beyond.
Immediately, a large chestnut centaur stepped into her path with a raised bow pointed at her lowered, wolfish head, and Sean felt a rush upwards as she transfigured back into her human form. “As June burns bright in the sky and my soul, I have returned to see my family.”
“Sabriel, welcome home…” a deep voice said gently, and she looked up into a familiar smiling face.
“Hakan! You have become a Guardian!” Sean exclaimed as she clasped hands with the former Warrior centaur.
Hakan beamed at her, “It was my time. Your visit has been foretold, your father is expecting you.” He nodded towards the small group of the elite Warrior centaurs in between the Hunters and the Guardians.
Sean returned his nod in thanks and made her way over to them quietly, taking a knee and bowing her head as she approached the largest and wisest-looking centaur. “Father,” she said simply, and she picked her head up as she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Welcome home, daughter.” Ronan smiled serenely down at her, his strong face much more worn than it had been the last time she had visited nearly two years earlier.
She rose to her feet and began to walk side-by-side with her centaurian father as they drifted away from the rest of the Warriors to talk in private. “I have missed you and your guidance over our many months apart.” Sean said respectfully; the restrained centaurian emotions in contrast to over-enthusiastic human sentiments were ingrained deep within her.
“As I have missed you, my first-born. Though your purpose lies elsewhere, I must admit it is difficult not to ask you to stay as my second.” Ronan spoke quietly – he was being much more revealing than most centaurs.
Sean turned to him in surprise, “And what of Bane? Does he not wish to succeed you, Father?”
Ronan sighed heavily as they moved towards the two oak trees that separated the centaur valley from the rest of the Forest, and he turned to one of the Guardians, “Spyridon, I will return soon.” Spyridon nodded to him solemnly, then smiled at Sean and gave her a welcoming nod which she returned. As they stepped out of the valley, Ronan continued, “Bane is eager to prove his worth as a centaurian leader, but he yearns in earnest of his father’s respect.”
“Magorian?” Sean asked as a trickle of sadness went down her spine in remembrance of the centaur who had sacrificed himself to save her so many years ago.
“Yes. He fears he has not fulfilled his father’s legacy.” Ronan admitted.
Sean stopped walking and turned to him, “No centaur can replace another, each has their own purpose to the herd!” She was surprised at how fierce her voice came out, but then again, she had always been very protective of Magorian’s memory.
Ronan smiled sadly and placed a hand on her shoulder, “You are wise beyond your years, Sabriel, which is why it is my wish for you to stay.” Sean struggled with this for a moment, unsure of what to say, but Ronan sighed heavily and replaced his hands behind his back, “But it is not your purpose at this time. We must never set ourselves against the heavens, daughter, and I will not ask you to do so.”
They continued walking in silence, Sean in awe of her centaurian father’s restraint and faith in his herd – the same qualities she once had as a member of the same herd. “Father, I have a foal of my own now.”
Ronan turned to her, beaming with pride, “Who is his Mother and Guardian?”
“Their names were Nymphadora and Remus, but they returned to the skies… he is my son, now, though not quite ready for a name.” Sean smiled as she thought about Teddy’s own naming ceremony in the centaur herd many years away.
“Will you bring him here, to meet his family one day?” Ronan asked quietly, yet rather excitedly for a centaur.
“When he is old enough to understand, I will. It is my wish for him to be named among the herd one day, to be given a purpose as I have been.”
It was a request rather than a statement, but Ronan smiled back at her, “Any foal of my first-born is welcome among our herd.”
“Thank you, Father.” They continued walking slowly among the undergrowth of the Forest in comfortable silence until they neared the Hogwarts grounds, and Sean sighed heavily, “I have been regarding the stars, Father, and I am worried for our future.”
“As am I, my child.” They walked onto the grounds easily, unconcerned that they might be seen in the waning sunlight. “Mars has been growing brighter and brighter since your last visit, and I fear for your safety.”
Sean shivered slightly at his confirmation of her fears; she, too, had seen Mars – the bringer of war – grow brighter with each new moon. “I will always return home to you, Father…” she said quietly with furrowed brows, and she now understood why he was being so affectionate (for a centaur) – he was afraid he would not see her again.
Ronan hung his head slightly as they drew closer to the groundskeeper’s home, “I know you will always try.” She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by barking in the lit hut only ten meters away and closed her mouth instead. She turned her head to the dark sky that had covered them as they walked and watched the bright stars shimmering overhead, much clearer than she could ever see them in London. “June is bright tonight.” Ronan said casually.
She turned back to him, “It is always bright in my heart.”
“Be safe, my daughter – I want to meet this foal of yours one day.” He said with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Sean put her hand on his, “You will. Give my brother and sister my trust.”
He nodded with a sad smile, “Thera and Orn will be glad to hear it. Goodnight, Sabriel.”
She bent her knees slightly and bowed her head before turning and walking back up the grounds towards the castle. Her centaurian father’s anxiety left her uneasy, but she did her best to shake it off as she turned and made her way around the other side of the castle to a particular part of the grounds. It wasn’t long before she saw the bright green glow of the Hogwarts Greenhouses illuminating the grounds like a supernatural light, and she spotted a man in dark robes through the greenhouse glass as a grin stole over her face. She brushed the dirt from the Forest off her knees and straightened her jacket before she moved around to the back of the particular greenhouse with the man inside, and went in through the professor’s entrance into the steamy glass room. Peeking in, she saw his head lowered in concentration as he carefully clipped leaves from a Fanged Geranium, and she bit her bottom lip and snuck in noiselessly.
He was full of determined concentration, and she moved swiftly and quietly to some up right behind him to slide her arms by his sides, then wrapped them tightly around his waist and pulled him back as she exclaimed, “Gotcha!”
“What the hell?!” An unfamiliar voice yelled as he put his head back, and Sean Felt his anger and surprise as his long, dark hair dangled in front of her face for the first time.
She released him quickly and stepped back, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” He turned around, his face matching how livid he Felt, and she recognized the Transfiguration professor. “Professor Estran! I’m so sorry!”
It seemed to take him a minute to recognize her and he eyed her up and down a few times before his anger vanished suddenly, “Miss Kiernan! I apologize, I thought you were a student!”
Sean chanced a small smiled, “Really, so sorry… I thought you were Professor Longbottom…”
Professor Estran returned the smile, “He’s in his office by Greenhouse Three… I’m just collecting some Geranium leaves for a potion I’m making.”
“Do you teach Potions as well?” Sean asked in awe.
He laughed softly, “Oh, no – this is just for personal use. Transfiguration is quite enough, thank you. Oh, and thank you again for coming to speak with my NEWT students today, I think it really helped them to see how a Metamorphmagus transfigures.”
There was something that made her uneasy lurking behind his eyes, and Sean looked away to brush one of her loose curls behind her ear before turning back to him. “Anytime, Professor.”
She moved to walk around him to make her way towards Greenhouse Three, but he spoke quickly and almost hopefully before she had made it to the end of the table, “Please, call me Rhode.”
“Anytime, Rhode. I’ll see you around.” Sean said with a modest smile, and she exited the Greenhouse quickly as a faint shiver trickled down her spine. She walked swiftly to her intended Greenhouse, and made her way around the long table to the small room door in the back labeled ‘Professor Longbottom’.
Her grin returned quickly, and she rapped her knuckles on the door. “Come in!” a deep, warm voice invited, and she bit her bottom lip in excitement as she turned the handle and the door creaked open.
He was scribbling in red ink over a student’s essay, his light brown hair falling gracefully over his downcast eyes. “Can I help you?” he asked gently, though his eyes remained down at the parchment. Sean didn’t answer, but continued to gaze around his small, but welcoming office and the little curios it contained – her favorite being the picture frame of the two of them set atop one of the many Herbology books she had given him. “Can I help you?” he asked again, this time with a sigh, and he replaced his quill in the ink before looking up to her. Sean just smiled as his eyes grew wide, and he pushed his chair back and rushed around his desk to embrace her; he held her tightly for a few moments before pulling his head back and kissing her sweetly.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Sean laughed as he lowered his arms around her waist.
He was smiling so widely his cheeks had flushed, “I heard the kids talking about your visit to their classroom today – you made the lower years jealous.”
“Sorry it took so long for me to come see you – the students were exhausting and once I finished you were still in class, so I visited Ronan for a while.” She shrugged slightly, still grinning at the love and happiness from him that enveloped her with his arms.
“I was wondering why you were taking so long. Come on, why don’t we go get something to eat?” He grinned as he nudged his head towards the castle.
Sean raised a knowing eyebrow at him, “Won’t your students see us together?”
He shrugged and smiled, “Half of them already saw us on the platform, remember? Besides, being seen with you totally gives me points for the coolest professor award.” He kissed her again and released one arm to lead her out of his office.
“You are such a nerd.” Sean teased as she rolled her eyes.
Neville laughed, “Yeah, but you’re the one who loves me.”
Sean scoffed dramatically as the exited the Greenhouse, “Says who?”
He stopped and turned around, wrapping his arms around her again, “Says me.” Sean smiled and slid her arms over his shoulders as they kissed once more.
After a few moments, a deep voice from behind cleared their throat, “Ah-hem.”
Sean and Neville broke apart like two teenagers caught by their Head of House, but it was only Professor Estran. “Ahm, got all your leaves then, Professor?” Neville asked as his cheeks flushed, visible even in the darkness.
Professor Estran simply smiled through pursed lips, then turned and made his way up to the castle. Sean and Neville exchanged curious glances before breaking out in simultaneous laughter, after which Neville took her hand and they followed the Transfiguration professor back into the castle for dinner.
Well, there you have it. For more information about the boyfriend (and, you know, if you have any questions or comments) click here!
Hey guys! Thanks to everyone for reviewing, you guys are amazing! Anyway, I hope you like chapter five, please let me know!
Five: Conversations and Changes
The Hog’s Head pub was as quiet as ever as a few shady characters each sat alone at a different table, sipping their drinks in between murmurs and groans. Sean was used to this kind of awkward behavior from the pub’s patrons, and simply ignored the menacing frustration she Felt as she came down the stairs in the back of the pub and headed for the bar.
“Hey, Aberforth.” Sean sighed as she plopped onto one of the bar stools.
A grumpy-looking wizard turned around to face her, his long gray hair and beard covering most of his torso. “What’ll it be, Kiernan?” he groaned unenthusiastically.
Sean bit her bottom lip, “I don’t suppose you know how to make an Amaretto Sour?” Aberforth shook his head and rolled his eyes simultaneously while she shrugged, “Firewhiskey then, please.” He reached under the bar and grabbed a grimy-looking glass, which Sean quickly tapped with her wand to clean before he could pour in the drink. “Thanks again for the room, I appreciate it.” Sean raised her glass to him before taking a sip.
Aberforth pulled a dirty towel and another glass from under the bar and began ‘cleaning’ it as he grumbled back, “Just leave it the way you found it.” Sean smiled politely, but he just rolled his eyes again at her, “Shouldn’t you be up at Hogwarts for dinner?”
She replaced her glass on the bar, “Ahm, Neville’s meeting me here, actually… thought we might go out for dinner.”
“Didn’t know they let professors go out for dinner…” he mumbled to himself.
“Well, Neville made Head of House this year… only his second year teaching, too!” Sean beamed at the thought of her boyfriend.
Aberforth, however, scoffed unkindly, “What, they couldn’t find anyone more qualified?”
Sean swallowed dryly, “Ahm, well… Neville was only one of two Gryffindors on staff… and since Hagrid already has groundskeeper duties as well…” Aberforth smirked to himself, so Sean added, “You know, I thought you liked Neville…”
He put down the glass he had been ‘cleaning’ (which, in fact, looked dirtier than ever), “I liked him a lot more before he became a professor at that school…” he grumbled.
“You know, you won’t lose patrons for admitting that you actually like both of us.” Sean whispered as she leaned forward, causing Aberfoth to smirk slightly at the corners of his mouth. He quickly cleared his throat and turned his back to her to pretend like he was cleaning more of the glasses behind the bar.
The door creaked open and Sean spun towards it in anticipation of her boyfriend, but was dismayed to see a different professor enter the pub. “Sean! Fancy meeting you here…” Professor Estran smiled widely at her while Aberforth turned and sent him a threatening glare for disturbing the quiet of his pub.
“Profess- I mean, Rhode, good to see you.” Sean nodded to him as he took the bar stool beside her, but quickly turned back to the bar.
He didn’t take the hint. “So, is Professor Longbottom meeting you here?”
Sean ducked her head and pulled a curl behind her ear as she turned back to him, “Yes, he’ll be along in a few minutes.”
“You left Hogwarts quite a while ago, right?” Sean nodded silently as he took the glass Aberforth had just poured for him; apparently, he was a frequent patron, “How has it been coming back?”
“Interesting… and surreal…” she responded simply, once again trying to end the conversation.
Rhode took a drink from his glass. “Yeah, I can imagine… well, I guess I can’t really…” he chuckled to himself.
“What do you mean?” Sean had asked the question as it popped in her head and chided herself internally for continuing their dialogue.
“Well, I didn’t go to a school like Hogwarts – I was privately tutored, so I can’t ‘go back’ or anything.” Rhode shrugged.
He was being perfectly polite, he was giving her an extremely creepy Feeling that she couldn’t quite name. Nonetheless, she wasn’t going to be rude, “So what made you want to teach at Hogwarts, then? I mean, since you never went to school there.”
The professor inhaled excitedly, “During my studies, I read about all these great witches and wizards, and they had all come from Hogwarts; I just wanted to help guide the next generation, say I was a part of it.” He smiled somewhat shyly, “I could be teaching the next Minister of Magic or something, I think that’s pretty cool.”
Sean was surprised to find herself smiling as she looked at him directly for the first time. “And Transfiguration, did that just come naturally to you?”
Rhode ran a hand through his dark hand and brushed it behind his ears, “Oh, yeah… I first Transfigured myself at age thirteen… without a wand, too.”
She pulled back in slight alarm and furrowed her brows, “Transfigured into what?”
He grinned and leaned towards her to whisper, “My animagus, a wolf – but I’m unregistered, so don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Her mouth fell agape and she stared at him for a moment before shaking herself, “A wolf? A gray wolf?” Rhode nodded, slightly nonplussed. “I-I’m a gray wolf… I’ve never met another…” Sean whispered.
“Neither have I.” Rhode said with an amused smile. “When did you know you could do it?”
Sean, still somewhat shocked, replied slowly, “Ahm, i-it was an accident… when I was thirteen…”
Rhode pulled away from her, “No way… seriously?” Sean nodded. “Wow, that’s weird…”
“Yeah, I know…” Sean laughed uncomfortably for a moment.
He sighed heavily, “So, did you ever register?”
This time, Sean laughed easily, “No, I don’t want to give the Ministry any more information about me than they already have.”
Rhode grinned, “Yeah, I’ve heard about a few of your ‘indiscretions’ lately… the Whomping Willow?”
Sean scoffed dramatically, “Hey, that thing was asking for it!” They both laughed together, disrupting the ominous quiet of Aberforth’s pub.
After they subsided, both Sean and Rhode sighed softly into silence for a few moments until Rhode cleared his throat. “So, you and Longbottom? How long have you two been together?”
The awkwardness returned rapidly and Sean hesitated before answering, “Nearly two years…”
He seemed surprised. “Really? Wow, congratulations…”
“Thanks,” she responded simply before taking a drink of her firewhiskey.
“Er, are you planning to stay in Hogsmeade long?” Rhode asked as he tapped his fingers on his glass, Sean getting the first real sense of unease from him – he always Felt so confident.
She ran a lazy hand through her hair, “I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”
“Why so soon?” He seemed caught off-guard and even a little hurt.
Was he for real? Was he really hitting on her knowing full-well that she was in a committed relationship? Well, she knew a sure-fire way to put-off boyfriend-wannabes, “I want to be home when my son comes back.”
“Oh! You have a son…” his face fell as expected, but then he asked something she hadn’t been prepared for, “Is he Neville’s?”
Sean recoiled in surprise, “What? No – he’s five… he’s adopted.”
Rhode smiled – not the reaction she was hoping for; she wanted him to pay for his drink and high-tail it out of the pub, but he seemed determined. “Wow, that’s great. I thought about starting a school for younger witches and wizards, like a pre-school where they could learn the basics like math and English without worrying about the International Statute of Secrecy.”
She wanted the conversation to end, but all she could manage was “That’s… that’s a great idea.”
He shrugged, “Maybe in a few years. I’m only twenty-seven, I’ve got time.” She brought her eyes up to meet his, and she noticed for the first time that they weren’t really black, but a midnight blue. She smiled faintly at this observation, and when he grinned back the darkness of his appearance seemed to melt away. It was as if she was truly seeing him for the first time, and he Felt warm, inviting, and safe. He looked away as if suddenly shy and laughed softly, “There’s, uh, something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
Anything. She would answer anything he asked. “Shoot.”
“Is this what you really look like, or is it another Transfiguration?” he smirked, his eyes peeping at her in between strands of his soft, black hair.
She turned away as her cheeks flushed ever-so-slightly, “Everything except my hair… it’s naturally dark brown.”
“Why did you change it – if you don’t mind me asking?” He had lowered his voice to speak gently, almost as if he were whispering an incantation to her.
“I just… I needed a change.” Why was she whispering, too?
The door to the pub creaked open, bringing her out of some kind of unknown trance. She looked up to see the bright, smiling face of her boyfriend, and he came over and wrapped his arms around her. “Hey, sorry it took me so long!”
Sean kissed him briefly (they were still in public, after all), “Don’t worry about it – Aberforth and Rhode have been keeping me company.”
Neville turned to Professor Estran, “Estran! Didn’t even see you there!” He shook hands with him, his smile faltering for only a moment. “Thanks for keeping Sean company – and hopefully out of trouble.” He winked as he grinned while Aberforth grunted from behind the bar.
“It was my pleasure. It was nice seeing you again, Sean, and I’ll see you at school, Longbottom.” Rhode nodded to each of them, then took a final swig from his glass and left the pub.
Neville sighed and took Rhode’s vacated seat. “Sorry again about making you wait, I hope it wasn’t too awkward with Estran.” Neville smiled apologetically while taking her hands in his.
“Seriously, it’s not that big a deal, but I still think you should invest in a mobile.” Sean grinned back while Aberforth rolled his eyes at them.
Neville smiled brightly, but he seemed to hesitate suddenly as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Sean?”
“Hm?” she replied as she shook a loose curl out of her face.
“Your eyes…” he leaned forward slowly, “I think they’re dark blue.”
I love this chapter, but I can't tell you why yet! Anyway, please-please-please review here!
THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAS BEEN REVIEWING! Amazing, that's all I can say! Anyway, this chapter is a bit of a set-up for seven, so it may seem a little uneventful... trust me when I say there is some important information here! Also, just to let you know, the titles of the chapters refer to important information as well, usually spanning more than one chapter... 
Enjoy!
Six: Silver and Solicitations
September barreled on into October, bringing brisk fall winds and gray skies pregnant with rain that refused to fall. Sean pulled her cerulean peacoat tighter as she continued down Diagon Alley, headfirst into the wind towards number ninety-three. Finally, she reached her favorite shop and smiled at the relentlessly obnoxious neon lights flashing at her from the windows, somehow warming her in the bitter wind. The door jingled as she pushed it open and Sean was assaulted by the emotions of giddy children flooding the store, stocking up for Halloween.
She edged her way inside towards the counter where one of the newest hires was desperately trying to ring up customers as fast as possible. “Excuse me,” Sean half-yelled over the throng of customers.
“Huh?” The girl turned to her, her cheeks flushed pink with anxiety, and her eyes grew wide.
“Is George here?” she asked as she leaned over the counter.
The girl stared open-mouthed at Sean for a few moments before she shook herself, “Sean Kiernan! Gideon told me that you were a friend of Mr. Weasley’s…” Sean looked down for a moment and smiled uncomfortably, “Oh, right! Mr. Weasley… he’s, ahm, he’s upstairs…” she finished, somewhat unconvincingly.
“Thanks.” Sean grinned before ducking behind the counter and through the storeroom to make her way to the upstairs loft. She didn’t bother knocking on the door, but simply walked right into the apartment she once called ‘home’.
“Hey!” George was standing in the barely-used sitting room, attempting to pull a ‘Weird Sisters’ tee shirt over his head.
Sean laughed, “It’s just me.” She dropped her purse by the door and went to help him untangle his arms, now flailing over his head while caught in the sleeves. “You are completely hopeless, you know that?”
George’s head popped out of his shirt. “Whew! Trust me, I know.” He sighed before flopping down onto one of the oversized couches and scratched the dark hole that was once his left ear. “So, what’s going on?”
“Ahm, you asked me to help you go shopping for Gemma today – remember?” Sean folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at her best friend.
“Damn, I forgot!” He attempted a sheepish, apologetic smile, “Can we reschedule for tomorrow?”
Sean fell backwards onto the couch behind her and sighed, “No, George – rehearsals for ‘The Nutcracker’ start tomorrow and I’m rehearsing six days a week until we open November first!”
“But that’s two weeks away! Besides, why can’t we do it on your day off?” George stuck out his bottom lip in a dramatic pout.
She rolled her eyes, “I want to spend my off-days with Teddy, because we’re also going to have performances six days a week until Christmas after rehearsals.” She slumped back in her seat and let her head roll back so she was staring at the ceiling, her ponytail pushed uncomfortably into the back of her head.
“Where is Teddy?” George said suddenly, realizing that he wasn’t with them for the first time.
George’s unfailingly childish curiosity running down her spine made her grin, “With his godfather.”
“Harry? Again? He’s been taking him quite a bit lately…” There was a protective tone that entered his voice at the mention of her ex-boyfriend; he never seemed to really forgive Harry for what he had done to Sean – and George let him know it.
Sean picked her head up to look at George, trying to convey her ease with the softness of her tone, “I don’t know why he’s in town, but it’s good for Teddy to be around him – he misses him a lot and really looks up to him.”
“How do you feel about it?” George lowered his tone, and she knew the anger emanating from him wasn’t directed at her.
She just shrugged, “I don’t really care, to be honest – as long as he’s a good influence on Teddy and being a good godfather, he’s welcome to come around as much as he likes.”
George scoffed under his breath, “And Neville? What does he think?”
Sean pursed her lips in a knowing smile at him, “He feels the same way – as long as it’s in Teddy’s best interest.”
He sighed heavily, unconvinced. “You know, if you ever need… to talk, or something…”
She laughed before she could stop herself, “I love you, George, but I will never, ever talk to you about my boyfriends, current or otherwise.”
Still disbelieving, George leaned forward, his hands folded together and his forearms on his knees in concern, “Sean, I know something’s wrong…” he said quietly.
Sean furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, “Really George, nothing’s wrong.”
He let his head fall and inhaled deeply, “You’re hair is darker.”
“What?” Sean pushed herself off the couch quickly and raced for the bathroom, startling George in the process. She wrenched the door open and put her hands on either side of the free-standing sink as she peered in the mirror and sighed in relief, “It’s not darker, you git.”
George came up behind her and put his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, “Not much, but it’s there. It looks almost silver…”
Sean pulled out her hair tie and ran her fingers through her hair, bringing different strands in front of her eyes to scrutinize them. Indeed, they did look rather metallic… “Oh, I know what it is…” She turned around and folded her hands over her chest and smiled knowingly, “It’s the weather change – my hair gets like this every now and then.” George raised a skeptical eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes in response, “Seriously, nothing’s wrong… I promise.”
“Well, at least tell me why you straightened it?” He half-smirked as he rolled on his shoulder to let her pass.
Moving to the door, Sean bent down and picked up her purse before looking over her left shoulder at him, “I needed a change.”
* * * * * *
Leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded across her chest, Sean smiled softly to herself as Harry laid a sleeping Teddy into his Spider-man themed bed, his hair a fierce shade of electric blue. Harry covered him with the comforter and stood back to watch him in silence for a few moments, the wizard hat nightlight giving the room a subtle glow. Sean finally sighed and uncrossed her feet as she turned from the room and made her way downstairs, Harry’s footsteps softly padding the floor behind her. She walked a few steps out of the way before refolding her arms and turning to face him, “Thanks again for taking him to the zoo, he really had a great time.”
Harry rubbed his head absentmindedly, “We both did.” Awkward silence passed in between them while Sean rubbed her upper arm and looked around, waiting for him to take his leave. Instead, he cleared his throat, “Er, I was wondering if I could take Teddy on Halloween…”
Sean shook the loose hair from her ponytail out of her face, “Any particular reason why?”
He shrugged and looked away, “There’s, er, something I’ve been planning to do with him, and I think he’s old enough now.”
“That’s my day off, Harry. What exactly do you want to do?” she asked plainly.
“Just something… it’s personal.” He put his hands on his hips heavily, as if frustrated.
“Yeah, well, he’s my son, and you need to tell me what you’re planning with him.” Sean took a step backwards and sat down on the staircase, waiting for his explanation.
Harry seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, “I really don’t want to go into it… why don’t you just come with us? It won’t take long, and then you two can Apparate back here, or whatever…” He was clearly uncomfortable, and couldn’t maintain her gaze for a few seconds before he looked away.
Sean turned her head, putting her chin to her left shoulder while she considered this. “Let me think about it, okay?”
“Ugh!” Harry threw up his hands dramatically and turned away, startling her so much she pulled back from him. “Why does it always have to be such a struggle with you?”
“What?” Sean managed, surprised.
“One day, that’s all I want!” Harry’s voice was rising.
Sean put her hand onto the banister and pulled herself up, “Don’t yell, you’ll wake Teddy… and the ‘one day’ you want, is one of only three days that I get to spend all day with Teddy this month. I let you take him the first two - last week and today - and while that’s no one’s fault but my own, I want to spend the thirty-first with him.” She spoke slowly and clearly, trying to be gentle while getting her point across.
Harry sighed heavily, “That’s not what I meant.”
Sean folded her arms again and cocked her head slightly to the side, “Well, what did you mean then?”
“I know that you don’t have a lot of time during the holiday ballet season, or whatever, which is why I’m saying you can come, too. Seeing each other and spending time together doesn’t always have to be so complicated, you know.” He sounded tired and almost pleading, but she couldn’t really tell anymore.
Sean bit her bottom lip and turned her head away, “You’re right. It doesn’t have to be… but – for whatever reason – it always is.” She sighed heavily, “I think about, okay?”
“Okay.” Harry scratched the back of his head dejectedly and finally met her eyes; he furrowed his brows and stared at her for a moment.
“What?” Sean asked, pulling back slightly.
Harry shook himself and moved towards the door, “Nothing… never mind. I’ll call you.”
AH! I love it, but mainly because I love chapter seven so much and this sets the stage. Anyway, PLEASE CHECK OUT THE FEEDBACK PAGE FOR MORE INFO HERE!
Enjoy!Six: Silver and Solicitations
September barreled on into October, bringing brisk fall winds and gray skies pregnant with rain that refused to fall. Sean pulled her cerulean peacoat tighter as she continued down Diagon Alley, headfirst into the wind towards number ninety-three. Finally, she reached her favorite shop and smiled at the relentlessly obnoxious neon lights flashing at her from the windows, somehow warming her in the bitter wind. The door jingled as she pushed it open and Sean was assaulted by the emotions of giddy children flooding the store, stocking up for Halloween.
She edged her way inside towards the counter where one of the newest hires was desperately trying to ring up customers as fast as possible. “Excuse me,” Sean half-yelled over the throng of customers.
“Huh?” The girl turned to her, her cheeks flushed pink with anxiety, and her eyes grew wide.
“Is George here?” she asked as she leaned over the counter.
The girl stared open-mouthed at Sean for a few moments before she shook herself, “Sean Kiernan! Gideon told me that you were a friend of Mr. Weasley’s…” Sean looked down for a moment and smiled uncomfortably, “Oh, right! Mr. Weasley… he’s, ahm, he’s upstairs…” she finished, somewhat unconvincingly.
“Thanks.” Sean grinned before ducking behind the counter and through the storeroom to make her way to the upstairs loft. She didn’t bother knocking on the door, but simply walked right into the apartment she once called ‘home’.
“Hey!” George was standing in the barely-used sitting room, attempting to pull a ‘Weird Sisters’ tee shirt over his head.
Sean laughed, “It’s just me.” She dropped her purse by the door and went to help him untangle his arms, now flailing over his head while caught in the sleeves. “You are completely hopeless, you know that?”
George’s head popped out of his shirt. “Whew! Trust me, I know.” He sighed before flopping down onto one of the oversized couches and scratched the dark hole that was once his left ear. “So, what’s going on?”
“Ahm, you asked me to help you go shopping for Gemma today – remember?” Sean folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at her best friend.
“Damn, I forgot!” He attempted a sheepish, apologetic smile, “Can we reschedule for tomorrow?”
Sean fell backwards onto the couch behind her and sighed, “No, George – rehearsals for ‘The Nutcracker’ start tomorrow and I’m rehearsing six days a week until we open November first!”
“But that’s two weeks away! Besides, why can’t we do it on your day off?” George stuck out his bottom lip in a dramatic pout.
She rolled her eyes, “I want to spend my off-days with Teddy, because we’re also going to have performances six days a week until Christmas after rehearsals.” She slumped back in her seat and let her head roll back so she was staring at the ceiling, her ponytail pushed uncomfortably into the back of her head.
“Where is Teddy?” George said suddenly, realizing that he wasn’t with them for the first time.
George’s unfailingly childish curiosity running down her spine made her grin, “With his godfather.”
“Harry? Again? He’s been taking him quite a bit lately…” There was a protective tone that entered his voice at the mention of her ex-boyfriend; he never seemed to really forgive Harry for what he had done to Sean – and George let him know it.
Sean picked her head up to look at George, trying to convey her ease with the softness of her tone, “I don’t know why he’s in town, but it’s good for Teddy to be around him – he misses him a lot and really looks up to him.”
“How do you feel about it?” George lowered his tone, and she knew the anger emanating from him wasn’t directed at her.
She just shrugged, “I don’t really care, to be honest – as long as he’s a good influence on Teddy and being a good godfather, he’s welcome to come around as much as he likes.”
George scoffed under his breath, “And Neville? What does he think?”
Sean pursed her lips in a knowing smile at him, “He feels the same way – as long as it’s in Teddy’s best interest.”
He sighed heavily, unconvinced. “You know, if you ever need… to talk, or something…”
She laughed before she could stop herself, “I love you, George, but I will never, ever talk to you about my boyfriends, current or otherwise.”
Still disbelieving, George leaned forward, his hands folded together and his forearms on his knees in concern, “Sean, I know something’s wrong…” he said quietly.
Sean furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, “Really George, nothing’s wrong.”
He let his head fall and inhaled deeply, “You’re hair is darker.”
“What?” Sean pushed herself off the couch quickly and raced for the bathroom, startling George in the process. She wrenched the door open and put her hands on either side of the free-standing sink as she peered in the mirror and sighed in relief, “It’s not darker, you git.”
George came up behind her and put his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe, “Not much, but it’s there. It looks almost silver…”
Sean pulled out her hair tie and ran her fingers through her hair, bringing different strands in front of her eyes to scrutinize them. Indeed, they did look rather metallic… “Oh, I know what it is…” She turned around and folded her hands over her chest and smiled knowingly, “It’s the weather change – my hair gets like this every now and then.” George raised a skeptical eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes in response, “Seriously, nothing’s wrong… I promise.”
“Well, at least tell me why you straightened it?” He half-smirked as he rolled on his shoulder to let her pass.
Moving to the door, Sean bent down and picked up her purse before looking over her left shoulder at him, “I needed a change.”
* * * * * *
Leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded across her chest, Sean smiled softly to herself as Harry laid a sleeping Teddy into his Spider-man themed bed, his hair a fierce shade of electric blue. Harry covered him with the comforter and stood back to watch him in silence for a few moments, the wizard hat nightlight giving the room a subtle glow. Sean finally sighed and uncrossed her feet as she turned from the room and made her way downstairs, Harry’s footsteps softly padding the floor behind her. She walked a few steps out of the way before refolding her arms and turning to face him, “Thanks again for taking him to the zoo, he really had a great time.”
Harry rubbed his head absentmindedly, “We both did.” Awkward silence passed in between them while Sean rubbed her upper arm and looked around, waiting for him to take his leave. Instead, he cleared his throat, “Er, I was wondering if I could take Teddy on Halloween…”
Sean shook the loose hair from her ponytail out of her face, “Any particular reason why?”
He shrugged and looked away, “There’s, er, something I’ve been planning to do with him, and I think he’s old enough now.”
“That’s my day off, Harry. What exactly do you want to do?” she asked plainly.
“Just something… it’s personal.” He put his hands on his hips heavily, as if frustrated.
“Yeah, well, he’s my son, and you need to tell me what you’re planning with him.” Sean took a step backwards and sat down on the staircase, waiting for his explanation.
Harry seemed to struggle with himself for a moment, “I really don’t want to go into it… why don’t you just come with us? It won’t take long, and then you two can Apparate back here, or whatever…” He was clearly uncomfortable, and couldn’t maintain her gaze for a few seconds before he looked away.
Sean turned her head, putting her chin to her left shoulder while she considered this. “Let me think about it, okay?”
“Ugh!” Harry threw up his hands dramatically and turned away, startling her so much she pulled back from him. “Why does it always have to be such a struggle with you?”
“What?” Sean managed, surprised.
“One day, that’s all I want!” Harry’s voice was rising.
Sean put her hand onto the banister and pulled herself up, “Don’t yell, you’ll wake Teddy… and the ‘one day’ you want, is one of only three days that I get to spend all day with Teddy this month. I let you take him the first two - last week and today - and while that’s no one’s fault but my own, I want to spend the thirty-first with him.” She spoke slowly and clearly, trying to be gentle while getting her point across.
Harry sighed heavily, “That’s not what I meant.”
Sean folded her arms again and cocked her head slightly to the side, “Well, what did you mean then?”
“I know that you don’t have a lot of time during the holiday ballet season, or whatever, which is why I’m saying you can come, too. Seeing each other and spending time together doesn’t always have to be so complicated, you know.” He sounded tired and almost pleading, but she couldn’t really tell anymore.
Sean bit her bottom lip and turned her head away, “You’re right. It doesn’t have to be… but – for whatever reason – it always is.” She sighed heavily, “I think about, okay?”
“Okay.” Harry scratched the back of his head dejectedly and finally met her eyes; he furrowed his brows and stared at her for a moment.
“What?” Sean asked, pulling back slightly.
Harry shook himself and moved towards the door, “Nothing… never mind. I’ll call you.”
AH! I love it, but mainly because I love chapter seven so much and this sets the stage. Anyway, PLEASE CHECK OUT THE FEEDBACK PAGE FOR MORE INFO HERE!
Sorry this took so long! Huge thanks to lance, loony, and brandon for your reviews - you guys are great! Anyhow, this is my favorite chapter so far - and I know it's one you've all been waiting for... I can't wait to read the reviews! I really hope you like it! (By the way, it's meant to seem a little rushed and quick, because that's how Sean feels
)Seven: Satisfied and Silent Questions
The town of Godric’s Hollow was lined with quaint stores and homes that gave the village a sense of welcoming and warmth. Sean strolled the streets casually as the breeze made her metallic blonde hair dance above her shoulders, walking nowhere in particular as she waited for Harry and Teddy to finish whatever they were doing. She turned the corner, narrowly avoiding a few Trick-or-Treaters as they raced around in the opposite direction, and made her way into the town’s square. Picking up her head, Sean noticed a large obelisk in the middle of the square, some kind of war memorial, and found herself inexplicably drawn towards it.
She didn’t know why, but she approached the memorial cautiously in the waning sunlight, bizarrely fearful of the names that might be written upon it. A few yards away, Sean inhaled sharply as the memorial began to morph and change, becoming a large statue of a man with unkempt hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind face, and an unscarred baby giggling in their arms. “Oh my God…” Sean muttered to herself as she drew closer, realizing that the man beside his wife and child looked exactly like her ex-boyfriend. She simply stood still for a few moments, observing the memorial to the Potter family destroyed so many years ago – trying to take everything in. He had never told her… never wanted to talk about it… Hermione hinted, of course, but… he had shut it off from her… like everything else.
Sean backed away slowly from the statue and watched it turn back into the faux-memorial for muggle viewings, while concentrating on her heartbeat. Soon, her entire body was pulsing in time with her heart, and she let her mind slip backwards into thoughts of her son as her spirit rushed through the village. She found him quickly - only a few streets away in Harry’s arms, and she let her body and spirit crash together before opening her eyes and jogging towards the place she saw them.
Within minutes, she found Harry and Teddy standing before what looked like a home in the process of building. She slowed her pace, but still continued towards them – whatever Harry may have believed, Teddy was too young to see this. As she grew closer, Sean could Feel Teddy’s overwhelming despair and sadness, much too intense for any five year old, though they weren’t speaking. A few feet away, Teddy turned away from the house and looked up, “Sean!” he exclaimed, his sadness lifting as he threw his arms out and reached for her over Harry’s shoulder.
Harry spun around in surprise, but Sean didn’t wait for him to catch up and took Teddy from his arms. “Hey, I thought I said we’d meet back in the square?!” Harry accused.
Sean didn’t respond, but looked to her white-headed son, “Say ‘goodbye’ to Harry, sweetheart, it’s time to go home.”
Teddy Felt enormous relief to be leaving this depressing village, and smiled a ‘goodbye’ to his godfather while Sean looked around for anyone else on the street. Luckily, they were alone, and she didn’t respond to Harry’s calls of “Wait!” before turning on the spot and Disapparating them both.
“AH!” Hermione yelped as a porcelain cup crashed to the floor, followed by sounds of running from another room.
“Sorry about that.” Sean mumbled apologetically.
Hermione stood up and took out her wand to dry her clothes and repair the tea cup in shatters on the floor. “Sean, what’s wrong?”
A flurry of red hair crashed into the sitting room, “Everything… okay…?” Ron huffed, his brothers, Bill and Charlie, behind him.
“Yeah, it’s just Sean.” Hermione reassured them, though her concerned tone had not wavered. Ron rolled his eyes while Bill and Charlie half-waved, then they all retreated back to the other room. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I just need to do something – can you watch Teddy for a little while for me?” Sean bit her bottom lip while Teddy whined in protest.
“Of course – are you sure everything’s all right?” Hermione questioned knowingly, though she still took Teddy from Sean’s arms, his hair turning to a metallic blonde to match his adoptive mother’s color.
Sean straightened her top and refastened her coat, “Yeah… yeah, everything’s fine – I just have to take care of something…” she said elusively. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” With that, she turned and Disapparated once again before Hermione could get in another word.
The squeezing blackness of Appartition lasted only a few moments before she appeared back in town square of Godric’s Hollow, now deserted as Trick-or-Treating was winding down in the residential areas of the village. She moved quickly since the night sky had turned the breeze into freezing wind, half-jogging back to the site of the house under construction. Once again, she was greeted by the image of Harry’s back, curled over as he leaned on the fence in front of the house. She considered openly yelling at him, but slowed her pace and took a deep breath before stopping a few yards away from him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly, her eyes downcast.
She saw Harry spin around, once again, out of her peripheral vision. “Merlin’s beard, you scared the hell out of me!” Harry gasped, his hand to his chest as he panted for a few moments.
Sean sighed, then repeated, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Picking her head up, she saw Harry hang his, “I didn’t want you to… to not allow Teddy to come.”
Sean rolled her eyes out of habit, “No, not about today.” Harry picked his head up, “Why didn’t you tell me?” she nearly pleaded.
It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, and he walked forward to pass her as he mumbled, “Does it even matter anymore?”
Reaching out, Sean grabbed his arm and forced him to spin around to face her, “Of course it matters! I need to know – why didn’t you tell me?” She loosened her grip as Harry glared at her, deciding what to say next.
“Why? Why does it matter?” He asked in an accusatory voice, and Sean turned away from him and walked back towards the fence, “It’s not like it changes anything!” Harry yelled at her back.
Sean whirled around and threw her hands up in frustration, “Yes it does, Harry! It changes how I feel about… about everything!”
Harry moved towards her, the anger in his eyes so intense that it didn’t matter if she couldn’t Feel him – she knew. “About me? Does it change how you feel about me?”
“I… I don’t know.” Sean admitted as she leaned backwards against the fence, and Harry shifted beside her to put his hands on the fence and hunch his shoulders, “I need to know why, please.”
She watched him as he decided what to say, rocking himself back and forth beside her. They were closer than they had ever been in years, but so very far apart. “You know, you’re the one who left me!” Harry blamed self-righteously.
“You let me!” Sean retorted angrily. Minutes passed in silence, each party unsure of what to do or say next. Finally Sean sighed, desperate for answers but anxious about prodding him further. She folded her arms and pressed them against her chest for warmth, then let her head tilt forward in sadness. “You stopped listening one day.” Sean said quietly, barely more than a whisper, and Harry stopped rocking. “Then, you stopped talking. Finally, you stopped caring – and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. And, believe me, I tried… I tried everything I knew how to do: talking, not talking, leaving you alone, listening…. but nothing seemed to help.” She saw Harry’s mouth open out of the corner of her eye, but she turned to him and continued before he could say anything, “You were so depressed and so angry all of time, and you didn’t seem to care that it was tearing both of us up inside. I loved you so much that I let just let you treat me that way…” Harry turned to her, putting his hands on her arms gently as if trying to comfort her, and she looked directly into his eyes, swimming with tears, “I need to know why you didn’t let me in – why you never told me about any of it.”
Harry sighed and turned away, putting his back to her as he rubbed his forehead with his right hand, “I just… I didn’t want… I just felt so weak.”
“What?” Sean asked in quiet surprise; that was definitely not the answer she was expecting.
He turned back around to face her, nearly yelling with suppressed anguish, “I didn’t know what to do after the prophecy was over… I didn’t know who to be – I had lived my whole life to defeat Voldemort, and I didn’t know what to do after it was over. I felt useless and weak, and I didn’t want you to see me that way.” He sighed heavily and let his head hang as he leaned against the fence again.
A long pole seemed to emerge out of the ground as he touched the fence like a fast-growing flower, and Sean gasped in surprise as she noticed the golden lettering on the wooden sign for the first time:
On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981,
Lily and James Potter lost their lives.
Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard
ever to have survived the Killing Curse.
This house, invisible to muggles, has been left
in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters
and as a reminder of the violence
that tore apart their family.
Lily and James Potter lost their lives.
Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard
ever to have survived the Killing Curse.
This house, invisible to muggles, has been left
in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters
and as a reminder of the violence
that tore apart their family.
She stared at it for a several minutes, reading over the magical graffiti in support of Harry and the praise for his defeat of Voldemort. Finally, she forced herself to look beyond it and truly see the house that lay behind – beautiful and majestic in all its tragedy, and she had to place both her hands on the fence to keep herself steady. Tears began to stream down her face as old dreams raced through her mind – imagining Harry, herself, and the late Mr. and Mrs. Potter gathered around the table for dinner, or tea, or anything. She had wished them alive so much over the two and a half years she and Harry had reunited, not only for his sake but her own. Now, as she gazed at the would-be bedrooms and imagined the once-bright living room, she knew that none of her nineteen year old dreams would be coming true.
“All I ever wanted from you, was to be a part of your life.” Sean whispered, her breath now visible on the chilly night air. Harry sighed heavily, but she continued anyway, “I would never have thought you were weak, not for this… not for having a past.” She had waited so long for him to let her in, and his timing was devastating.
“I loved the fact that you never really knew me before we were together… that you didn’t go into mourning every Halloween… that you didn’t see me grieve here… I thought I had to be strong.” He turned towards her again, but she didn’t reciprocate and he faced her side. “Well... did it work?”
Sean turned her head down and away, touching her chin to the shoulder opposite Harry, “Did what work?”
“Did it change how you feel about it?” Harry whispered, a hint of hope in his voice.
She considered her answer for a moment, unsure of how to reply. Finally, she decided on the truth, “Yeah, it does.”
He moved around to her other side to face her, though she kept her eyes downcast. “And now? Does it change how you feel now?”
“I don’t know what you mean…” Sean admitted as she ran a hand through her hair, still flowing in the wind.
Harry took her by the arms again and pulled her to face him, whispering “Yes, you do – you always know what I mean, how I feel…” he trailed off.
Sean finally brought her eyes up to meet his, “Not anymore. I haven’t been able to Feel you in nearly three years.”
“I feel you… all the time…” Harry lowered his face and pushed his lips to hers softly, but all Sean could sense were her own memories of how much she used to love kissing him – and how much it hurt her now. She pulled away and he put his forehead to hers in his own, protective way, “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean—”
Sean put her fingers to his lips to stop him. “Thank you for telling me, but you shouldn’t have brought Teddy here.”
Harry pulled back and stared at her with furrowed brows, confused, “Wha—”
“I have to go, I don’t think we should see each other for a while…” she admitted quietly.
He tightened his grip on her arms, not to hurt her – but emphasize the fact that he didn’t want to let her go. “Please, don’t leave.”
“I can't do this...” Her whispers dissolved in the brand new November air.
Harry released her quickly, as if suddenly stung by her, his expression changing from confusion to anger. “Are you seeing someone else?”
Sean put her head down for a brief moment to muster her strength, then picked it back up as her hair continued to whip about her face. “You broke me, Harry Potter.” She turned and walked away, and once again – he didn’t stop her.
I LOVE IT! I hope you did, too, please review here!
Wow. I am so-so-so-so sorry it took this long to post! The holiday has taken over my life a little bit... anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for it being so late, and (as always) please review!
Eight: Mercury and Mars
Cloaked in sunglasses and a newsboy cap, Sean sat patiently in the back of a small café around the corner from the Royal Opera House. The emotions around her were all buzzed on caffeine and java, and she smiled as a familiar jumble of nerves sat down opposite her, “Ugh! The weather is awful!” Hermione groaned as she wrestled herself out of her coat and shivered slightly.
“Hence why we’re at a coffee house; why don’t you get something to drink?” Sean suggested with a shrug.
Hermione sighed, finally settled, and shook the hair out of her face, “You know caffeine makes me agitated…” Sean tried not to laugh, “Anyway, who’s coming to your opening tonight?”
Sean checked her watch out of habit, making sure she still had time before her lunch break ended, “You, Ron, George, Gemma –”
“Don’t they usually come to the final show instead of the first?” Hermione interrupted.
“Yeah, but they’ll have the baby by then, and I seriously doubt any offspring of George’s will behave for a three hour ballet.” Sean sighed with a grin, “Anyway, it’s you, Ron, George, Gemma, Arthur, Molly, Neville… and I think Charlie and his wife said they might try to make it. Oh, and Percy.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows and grinned viciously while Sean Felt dangerous intrigue growing inside her friend, “Percy? Really? Coming just to see you?”
Sean wasn’t smiling, “Stop it.”
“But the loooooves you…” she whimpered in her most put-on, pathetic voice.
“It’s not funny.”
Hermione scoffed, “Are you kidding? It’s hilarious…”
“No - it’s not, now stop it.” Sean shuddered as a sickening feeling stole down her spine.
Hermione considered her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to leave it alone. Thankfully, her devilish cheek subsided and she sighed while slouching back in her chair, “So, Ron called me earlier.”
“Hm.” Sean mumbled, a new interest growing steadily in Hermione to replace the former.
“He said Harry asked him something rather odd.” Sean kept her eyes down while sipping her coffee, “Seems he wanted to know if you were seeing anyone.”
Sean sighed heavily and placed her cup on the table, “I’m sorry, he shouldn’t be asking either of you. I’ll call Ron and apologize later.”
Hermione raised a knowing eyebrow, “Why is Harry asking Ron if you’re seeing anyone?”
“Because he’s a royal git?” Sean attempted to shrug half-heartedly.
Hermione leaned forward, folding her arms on the table and softening her tone, “What happened yesterday? When you left Teddy… did you two… do… something?”
Sean considered her best friend for a few moments, then pulled off her cap to run her fingers through her hair, ignoring Hermione’s gasp of surprise. “Harry took Teddy to Godric’s Hollow yesterday.”
“No!” Hermione whispered in disbelief.
“Yeah.” Sean put her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands, “He was going to tell his five year old godson all about his parents’ death, and he had never even told me.” She threw up her hands in exasperation and slouched back in her seat, “He never talked about them, not once, but he thought it was appropriate to share it with a toddler!”
Hermione was obviously shocked, and Sean Felt her outrage at Harry’s actions concerning Teddy. “He shouldn’t have taken Teddy – he’s way too young. But… I mean… there’s plenty of stuff out there about Harry’s family…”
“I shouldn’t have to research my boyfriend, Hermione…” Sean scolded, then caught herself, “… ex… boyfriend…”
Hermione chewed on her lip for a moment, deciding what to say, “No, you shouldn’t. So, is that why you brought Teddy over?”
Sean inhaled deeply, “After I figured out what the town was, yeah… then I went back and Harry and I had another yelling match.”
“About?”
“About everything! Why things are the way they are, why they should have been different, why they can’t be now…” Sean trailed off, lost in her own thoughts.
“And, whether or not you’re seeing someone somehow came up?” Hermione asked carefully.
Sean scoffed and rolled her eyes, angry at the memories of Harry from the previous night, “You could say that.”
“He didn’t….” Hermione began, leaning forward in anticipation, “… he didn’t ask you… to be his girlfriend again, did he?”
She rubbed her forehead and bit her lip in anxiety before answering, “Not in so many words, but—”
“Merlin’s pants!” Hermione exclaimed rather loudly, her sudden increase in adrenaline making Sean dizzy. “So, what did you say?”
“That we shouldn’t see each other for a while.” Sean sighed.
“What?” The growing elation in Hermione stopped suddenly.
Sean leaned forward and relaxed the tension in her voice, “Hermione, I know that you’ve had this fantasy of best-friends-marrying-best-friends, but – for the last time - that’s just not the case. Harry and I are done, and that’s all there is to it.”
“But what about –”
“No, Hermione.”
“But –”
“No, Hermione.” Sean put a hand on her friend’s to ease her disapproval, “I will always love Harry, but I’m in love with Neville… and I’m happy…”
Hermione lowered her gaze, taking in Sean’s words slowly and deeply, “I’m sorry,” she began as she collected her emotions, “I just never thought you two would really be over.”
“Neither did I.” Sean admitted with a sigh, and she let an easy silence fall over them for a few moments. “Just out of curiosity, what did Ron say when Harry asked him about me?”
Hermione looked up and grinned, “That it was none of his business.”
* * * * * *
Sean’s cheeks were beginning to hurt she was smiling and laughing so much, but it was difficult to be any other way since her whole body was flooded with the pride and happiness of all the friends and family that were packed into her dressing room. She looked down at her son and his natural light brown hair, wondering how he could sleep despite all the noise. “Really, Sean, you were amazing.” She looked up to see Gemma beaming at her.
“Thank you. I’m just so glad you could make it – you look like you’re about to burst.” Sean said quietly so as not to disturb Teddy.
Gemma rolled her eyes, “Tell me about it. Two more weeks and then it’s here.”
“I don’t see why you can’t tell us if you’re having a girl or a boy.” Molly half-scolded, though Sean smiled to herself at the enormous pride emanating from her.
“Because we want it to be a surprise, Mum.” George sighed in exasperation.
Molly folded her arms haughtily, “Well, you could at least tell us the names you’re considering. I happen to like ‘Molly’…”
Everyone laughed, “Sorry, Mum, that’s also a surprise.” George reprimanded.
“Besides, dear, not everyone can be named after a Weasley.” Arthur said gently while giving his wife a kiss on the forehead.
“That’s easy for you to say – we’ve already got another Arthur Weasley!” Molly grunted as she folded her arms.
“Wait, so I’m in trouble for naming my son Arthur, now?” Charlie asked in surprise.
“I am telling you all right now that I refuse to name any of my children Muriel or Bilius.” Ron chimed in, his arm around a giggling Hermione.
“If anyone should be in trouble about baby names, it’s Bill – he’s got Victoire and Sebastien – they’re not even English names!” George commented, only half-sarcastic.
The room erupted in laughter again as Neville sat on the arm rest next to Sean, placing his arm around her and kissing her gently on the forehead. A pang of jealousy tingled inside her, coming from where Percy sat next to her on the couch, but she simply ignored it, “When do you have to be back?” she whispered to her boyfriend.
“Not ‘till early tomorrow morning, we can stay as long as you like.” He whispered back with a gentle smile.
Sean gave him a sly wink before turning back to the room, “Okay, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
Everyone seemed to slowly rise to their feet, gradually coming over and giving Sean ‘congratulations’ while she thanked them before Disapparating. Molly and Percy took the most time, as usual, but she was finally alone with Neville and a slumbering Teddy after nearly a half hour. Neville kissed her sweetly before taking Teddy from her lap, who sighed as he wrapped his small, five year old arms around Neville’s neck. Sean grabbed her dance bag and held open the door as they made their way out of the dressing room and finally out of the Royal Opera House.
“You really were beautiful tonight.” Neville said as they strolled the dark, quiet streets, his breath visible on the chilly air.
Sean smiled softly, “Thank you so much for coming.” She put her hand in between his bent elbow (since he was holding Teddy) and kissed him on the cheek.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled back, though Sean couldn’t ignore the lingering sadness still radiating from him. Nonetheless, she let a calm, easy silence fall over them as they continued to stroll down the streets of London. Finally, Neville sighed heavily, “So, is you’re hair that way on purpose – or because of what happened last night?”
Sean took a deep breath and let her head fall forward, her mercury-silver hair falling straight in front of her face. “Neither. I didn’t mean to do it, but it didn’t begin to change until this morning and it’s gotten darker all day.”
“So… you’re not upset over Harry?” Neville asked as he stopped and turned to her.
She smiled sadly at him, “I wish certain things happened differently, but it is what it is…” she shrugged.
“And you’re not…”
Sean turned and grinned at him, “Reconsidering? No, not a chance.” He smiled and they maneuvered a kiss around Teddy’s sleeping body, still wrapped around Neville. “You can’t get away from me that easily…” Sean whispered as they resumed walking, and Neville let out an easy, calm laugh.
A wave of Dark emotion stopped Sean in her tracks, forcing her to double over as she gasped for air. “What? What’s wrong?” Neville asked, his eyes wide in concern.
Sean closed her eyes as she tried to concentrate on the emotion, stabbing down her spine and causing her eyes to water in pain. “Some… thing’s… coming…” she finally managed, while stumbling towards the wall and putting a hand on it to steady herself.
“I’m taking Teddy to Ron’s – I’ll be right back.” Neville said quickly, his determination and focus fading away as the Darkness took over her entire Empathic ability. She vaguely felt her body slide down the wall as odd images flashed in her mind, completely out of her control. She saw herself kiss Neville only moments ago, then Harry kiss her, their fight, Diagon Alley, the Hog’s Head, Hogwarts grounds… all familiar scenes and events, though she saw them from an unfamiliar perspective.
Then, a new set of images began to race through her mind – completely alien to her. There was something about a meeting or a plan… perhaps a meeting to carry out a plan… and newspaper and magazine clippings, thousands of them, from both muggle and wizard press. There were letters sealed with some sort of crest, books of animals, insect dissections, simmering cauldrons – all fragments somehow strung together by a loose collaboration. The flashes grew quicker and more frantic with each second, until they all finally crashed to a stop onto a single, final image – Mars burning brighter than ever before in the night sky.
“Sean! Sean!” Someone was yelling at her, shaking her… “SEAN!” She finally forced her eyes open, though her vision was blurry. “Thank God…” a male voice whispered, and she felt someone help her to her feet. “Are you alright?”
She closed her eyes and rubbed them for a few moments, “Yeah… I think so…” She reopened her eyes as the Darkness started to ebb away, and nearly stumbled back in shock to see Harry standing before her. “What are you doing here?”
He kept his hands on her upper arms, still trying to steady her, “I came to see your show, I know you always take the Tube after a performance, and I was waiting to congratulate you.” He said it quietly, as if he were ashamed.
Despite the lingering dizziness, Sean managed looked at her watch, “Harry, the ballet ended over three hours ago…”
“I know… I wanted to talk to you, about what you said last night…” He relaxed his arms, but kept his hands on hers. As he opened his mouth to continue, a slight ‘pop’ startled them both from beside them, followed by Neville rushing forward and stepping in between them without a glance to Harry.
“Merlin’s beard, are you alright?” He gasped through heavy breaths as he hugged her, then he pulled back to look at her, wiping a stray hair out of her face. “Jeez, your nose is bleeding…” He pulled a tissue out of his pocket and put it gently under her nose.
“I’m alright, really. Is Teddy okay?” Sean managed beneath the tissue.
“He’s fine, I told Ron that I’d pick him up in the morning.” Neville said, still scanning her face to make sure she was indeed okay. “Are you sure you’re alright? Good Lord, you look completely white…”
“I’m okay, just a little shaken.” Neville sighed and kissed her on the forehead as his relief and love washed over her, a welcome contradiction to what she had just Experienced.
“Ah-hem.” Another voice coughed from behind them, and Neville turned around to stand beside Sean, noticing they weren’t alone for the first time.
“Harry! What are you doing here?” Neville exclaimed, shocked by his presence.
Harry’s arms were folded tightly across his chest, and while he was the same height as Neville, he seemed to tower over him. “Just what the bloody hell do you think you are doing?”
“What?” Neville said with furrowed brows, but Sean felt the arm he had across her shoulders twitch disconcertingly – though he didn’t move it.
“I said, what the bl—” Harry stepped forward threateningly, but Sean moved in between her former and current boyfriends.
“It’s none of your business, Harry.” Sean said sternly as realization began to trickle into her body.
“None of my business?!” he angled his head to look past Sean at Neville, “You were supposed to be my friend!”
Sean whipped around and put a hand on Neville’s chest to stop him before he could retort, “No, don’t.” She turned back around to face Harry, “It’s none of your business.”
“I—”
“No, don’t start…” Sean cut him off. “I don’t know what kind of twisted stuff you’re into, but you are not coming near Teddy again until you get it together, got it?” she threatened.
Harry pulled back in surprise, “What?”
“I saw everything, I Felt it – and you are not to come near me or my son, do you hear me?!” Sean yelled, trying to hide her own fear of him.
Harry stepped back, looking somehow defeated and demented and the same time, and he grinned maliciously at her, “I thought you said you couldn’t Feel me anymore…”
“You can’t hide that kind of Darkness under any Invisibility Cloak.” Sean spat back, then turned away from him and into Neville’s arms and the darkness of Apparition.
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE don't hate me! It'll all make sense... eventually... anyhow, please post questions-comments-reviews here!
Eight: Mercury and Mars
Cloaked in sunglasses and a newsboy cap, Sean sat patiently in the back of a small café around the corner from the Royal Opera House. The emotions around her were all buzzed on caffeine and java, and she smiled as a familiar jumble of nerves sat down opposite her, “Ugh! The weather is awful!” Hermione groaned as she wrestled herself out of her coat and shivered slightly.
“Hence why we’re at a coffee house; why don’t you get something to drink?” Sean suggested with a shrug.
Hermione sighed, finally settled, and shook the hair out of her face, “You know caffeine makes me agitated…” Sean tried not to laugh, “Anyway, who’s coming to your opening tonight?”
Sean checked her watch out of habit, making sure she still had time before her lunch break ended, “You, Ron, George, Gemma –”
“Don’t they usually come to the final show instead of the first?” Hermione interrupted.
“Yeah, but they’ll have the baby by then, and I seriously doubt any offspring of George’s will behave for a three hour ballet.” Sean sighed with a grin, “Anyway, it’s you, Ron, George, Gemma, Arthur, Molly, Neville… and I think Charlie and his wife said they might try to make it. Oh, and Percy.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows and grinned viciously while Sean Felt dangerous intrigue growing inside her friend, “Percy? Really? Coming just to see you?”
Sean wasn’t smiling, “Stop it.”
“But the loooooves you…” she whimpered in her most put-on, pathetic voice.
“It’s not funny.”
Hermione scoffed, “Are you kidding? It’s hilarious…”
“No - it’s not, now stop it.” Sean shuddered as a sickening feeling stole down her spine.
Hermione considered her for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to leave it alone. Thankfully, her devilish cheek subsided and she sighed while slouching back in her chair, “So, Ron called me earlier.”
“Hm.” Sean mumbled, a new interest growing steadily in Hermione to replace the former.
“He said Harry asked him something rather odd.” Sean kept her eyes down while sipping her coffee, “Seems he wanted to know if you were seeing anyone.”
Sean sighed heavily and placed her cup on the table, “I’m sorry, he shouldn’t be asking either of you. I’ll call Ron and apologize later.”
Hermione raised a knowing eyebrow, “Why is Harry asking Ron if you’re seeing anyone?”
“Because he’s a royal git?” Sean attempted to shrug half-heartedly.
Hermione leaned forward, folding her arms on the table and softening her tone, “What happened yesterday? When you left Teddy… did you two… do… something?”
Sean considered her best friend for a few moments, then pulled off her cap to run her fingers through her hair, ignoring Hermione’s gasp of surprise. “Harry took Teddy to Godric’s Hollow yesterday.”
“No!” Hermione whispered in disbelief.
“Yeah.” Sean put her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands, “He was going to tell his five year old godson all about his parents’ death, and he had never even told me.” She threw up her hands in exasperation and slouched back in her seat, “He never talked about them, not once, but he thought it was appropriate to share it with a toddler!”
Hermione was obviously shocked, and Sean Felt her outrage at Harry’s actions concerning Teddy. “He shouldn’t have taken Teddy – he’s way too young. But… I mean… there’s plenty of stuff out there about Harry’s family…”
“I shouldn’t have to research my boyfriend, Hermione…” Sean scolded, then caught herself, “… ex… boyfriend…”
Hermione chewed on her lip for a moment, deciding what to say, “No, you shouldn’t. So, is that why you brought Teddy over?”
Sean inhaled deeply, “After I figured out what the town was, yeah… then I went back and Harry and I had another yelling match.”
“About?”
“About everything! Why things are the way they are, why they should have been different, why they can’t be now…” Sean trailed off, lost in her own thoughts.
“And, whether or not you’re seeing someone somehow came up?” Hermione asked carefully.
Sean scoffed and rolled her eyes, angry at the memories of Harry from the previous night, “You could say that.”
“He didn’t….” Hermione began, leaning forward in anticipation, “… he didn’t ask you… to be his girlfriend again, did he?”
She rubbed her forehead and bit her lip in anxiety before answering, “Not in so many words, but—”
“Merlin’s pants!” Hermione exclaimed rather loudly, her sudden increase in adrenaline making Sean dizzy. “So, what did you say?”
“That we shouldn’t see each other for a while.” Sean sighed.
“What?” The growing elation in Hermione stopped suddenly.
Sean leaned forward and relaxed the tension in her voice, “Hermione, I know that you’ve had this fantasy of best-friends-marrying-best-friends, but – for the last time - that’s just not the case. Harry and I are done, and that’s all there is to it.”
“But what about –”
“No, Hermione.”
“But –”
“No, Hermione.” Sean put a hand on her friend’s to ease her disapproval, “I will always love Harry, but I’m in love with Neville… and I’m happy…”
Hermione lowered her gaze, taking in Sean’s words slowly and deeply, “I’m sorry,” she began as she collected her emotions, “I just never thought you two would really be over.”
“Neither did I.” Sean admitted with a sigh, and she let an easy silence fall over them for a few moments. “Just out of curiosity, what did Ron say when Harry asked him about me?”
Hermione looked up and grinned, “That it was none of his business.”
* * * * * *
Sean’s cheeks were beginning to hurt she was smiling and laughing so much, but it was difficult to be any other way since her whole body was flooded with the pride and happiness of all the friends and family that were packed into her dressing room. She looked down at her son and his natural light brown hair, wondering how he could sleep despite all the noise. “Really, Sean, you were amazing.” She looked up to see Gemma beaming at her.
“Thank you. I’m just so glad you could make it – you look like you’re about to burst.” Sean said quietly so as not to disturb Teddy.
Gemma rolled her eyes, “Tell me about it. Two more weeks and then it’s here.”
“I don’t see why you can’t tell us if you’re having a girl or a boy.” Molly half-scolded, though Sean smiled to herself at the enormous pride emanating from her.
“Because we want it to be a surprise, Mum.” George sighed in exasperation.
Molly folded her arms haughtily, “Well, you could at least tell us the names you’re considering. I happen to like ‘Molly’…”
Everyone laughed, “Sorry, Mum, that’s also a surprise.” George reprimanded.
“Besides, dear, not everyone can be named after a Weasley.” Arthur said gently while giving his wife a kiss on the forehead.
“That’s easy for you to say – we’ve already got another Arthur Weasley!” Molly grunted as she folded her arms.
“Wait, so I’m in trouble for naming my son Arthur, now?” Charlie asked in surprise.
“I am telling you all right now that I refuse to name any of my children Muriel or Bilius.” Ron chimed in, his arm around a giggling Hermione.
“If anyone should be in trouble about baby names, it’s Bill – he’s got Victoire and Sebastien – they’re not even English names!” George commented, only half-sarcastic.
The room erupted in laughter again as Neville sat on the arm rest next to Sean, placing his arm around her and kissing her gently on the forehead. A pang of jealousy tingled inside her, coming from where Percy sat next to her on the couch, but she simply ignored it, “When do you have to be back?” she whispered to her boyfriend.
“Not ‘till early tomorrow morning, we can stay as long as you like.” He whispered back with a gentle smile.
Sean gave him a sly wink before turning back to the room, “Okay, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
Everyone seemed to slowly rise to their feet, gradually coming over and giving Sean ‘congratulations’ while she thanked them before Disapparating. Molly and Percy took the most time, as usual, but she was finally alone with Neville and a slumbering Teddy after nearly a half hour. Neville kissed her sweetly before taking Teddy from her lap, who sighed as he wrapped his small, five year old arms around Neville’s neck. Sean grabbed her dance bag and held open the door as they made their way out of the dressing room and finally out of the Royal Opera House.
“You really were beautiful tonight.” Neville said as they strolled the dark, quiet streets, his breath visible on the chilly air.
Sean smiled softly, “Thank you so much for coming.” She put her hand in between his bent elbow (since he was holding Teddy) and kissed him on the cheek.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He smiled back, though Sean couldn’t ignore the lingering sadness still radiating from him. Nonetheless, she let a calm, easy silence fall over them as they continued to stroll down the streets of London. Finally, Neville sighed heavily, “So, is you’re hair that way on purpose – or because of what happened last night?”
Sean took a deep breath and let her head fall forward, her mercury-silver hair falling straight in front of her face. “Neither. I didn’t mean to do it, but it didn’t begin to change until this morning and it’s gotten darker all day.”
“So… you’re not upset over Harry?” Neville asked as he stopped and turned to her.
She smiled sadly at him, “I wish certain things happened differently, but it is what it is…” she shrugged.
“And you’re not…”
Sean turned and grinned at him, “Reconsidering? No, not a chance.” He smiled and they maneuvered a kiss around Teddy’s sleeping body, still wrapped around Neville. “You can’t get away from me that easily…” Sean whispered as they resumed walking, and Neville let out an easy, calm laugh.
A wave of Dark emotion stopped Sean in her tracks, forcing her to double over as she gasped for air. “What? What’s wrong?” Neville asked, his eyes wide in concern.
Sean closed her eyes as she tried to concentrate on the emotion, stabbing down her spine and causing her eyes to water in pain. “Some… thing’s… coming…” she finally managed, while stumbling towards the wall and putting a hand on it to steady herself.
“I’m taking Teddy to Ron’s – I’ll be right back.” Neville said quickly, his determination and focus fading away as the Darkness took over her entire Empathic ability. She vaguely felt her body slide down the wall as odd images flashed in her mind, completely out of her control. She saw herself kiss Neville only moments ago, then Harry kiss her, their fight, Diagon Alley, the Hog’s Head, Hogwarts grounds… all familiar scenes and events, though she saw them from an unfamiliar perspective.
Then, a new set of images began to race through her mind – completely alien to her. There was something about a meeting or a plan… perhaps a meeting to carry out a plan… and newspaper and magazine clippings, thousands of them, from both muggle and wizard press. There were letters sealed with some sort of crest, books of animals, insect dissections, simmering cauldrons – all fragments somehow strung together by a loose collaboration. The flashes grew quicker and more frantic with each second, until they all finally crashed to a stop onto a single, final image – Mars burning brighter than ever before in the night sky.
“Sean! Sean!” Someone was yelling at her, shaking her… “SEAN!” She finally forced her eyes open, though her vision was blurry. “Thank God…” a male voice whispered, and she felt someone help her to her feet. “Are you alright?”
She closed her eyes and rubbed them for a few moments, “Yeah… I think so…” She reopened her eyes as the Darkness started to ebb away, and nearly stumbled back in shock to see Harry standing before her. “What are you doing here?”
He kept his hands on her upper arms, still trying to steady her, “I came to see your show, I know you always take the Tube after a performance, and I was waiting to congratulate you.” He said it quietly, as if he were ashamed.
Despite the lingering dizziness, Sean managed looked at her watch, “Harry, the ballet ended over three hours ago…”
“I know… I wanted to talk to you, about what you said last night…” He relaxed his arms, but kept his hands on hers. As he opened his mouth to continue, a slight ‘pop’ startled them both from beside them, followed by Neville rushing forward and stepping in between them without a glance to Harry.
“Merlin’s beard, are you alright?” He gasped through heavy breaths as he hugged her, then he pulled back to look at her, wiping a stray hair out of her face. “Jeez, your nose is bleeding…” He pulled a tissue out of his pocket and put it gently under her nose.
“I’m alright, really. Is Teddy okay?” Sean managed beneath the tissue.
“He’s fine, I told Ron that I’d pick him up in the morning.” Neville said, still scanning her face to make sure she was indeed okay. “Are you sure you’re alright? Good Lord, you look completely white…”
“I’m okay, just a little shaken.” Neville sighed and kissed her on the forehead as his relief and love washed over her, a welcome contradiction to what she had just Experienced.
“Ah-hem.” Another voice coughed from behind them, and Neville turned around to stand beside Sean, noticing they weren’t alone for the first time.
“Harry! What are you doing here?” Neville exclaimed, shocked by his presence.
Harry’s arms were folded tightly across his chest, and while he was the same height as Neville, he seemed to tower over him. “Just what the bloody hell do you think you are doing?”
“What?” Neville said with furrowed brows, but Sean felt the arm he had across her shoulders twitch disconcertingly – though he didn’t move it.
“I said, what the bl—” Harry stepped forward threateningly, but Sean moved in between her former and current boyfriends.
“It’s none of your business, Harry.” Sean said sternly as realization began to trickle into her body.
“None of my business?!” he angled his head to look past Sean at Neville, “You were supposed to be my friend!”
Sean whipped around and put a hand on Neville’s chest to stop him before he could retort, “No, don’t.” She turned back around to face Harry, “It’s none of your business.”
“I—”
“No, don’t start…” Sean cut him off. “I don’t know what kind of twisted stuff you’re into, but you are not coming near Teddy again until you get it together, got it?” she threatened.
Harry pulled back in surprise, “What?”
“I saw everything, I Felt it – and you are not to come near me or my son, do you hear me?!” Sean yelled, trying to hide her own fear of him.
Harry stepped back, looking somehow defeated and demented and the same time, and he grinned maliciously at her, “I thought you said you couldn’t Feel me anymore…”
“You can’t hide that kind of Darkness under any Invisibility Cloak.” Sean spat back, then turned away from him and into Neville’s arms and the darkness of Apparition.
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE don't hate me! It'll all make sense... eventually... anyhow, please post questions-comments-reviews here!
Finally! The one you've been waiting for... well, sort of...
Nine: The Minister and the Missing
The days that followed after the fall-out were as cold and miserable as the sleet that blanketed the city. Neville had taken a few days off from teaching to stay with Sean and Teddy, though they were hardly alone; their living room seemed to suddenly overflow with red hair and deep conversation. The most disturbing of these discussions came only yesterday, when Ron revealed that Harry had practically vanished – not coming to work or answering owl post or phone class; Harry was never one to disappear or hide – no matter what kind of trouble he was in. Nonetheless, Sean couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved that he was seemingly gone.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Neville asked for the umpteenth time, gentle concern in his eyes.
Sean rolled her eyes and smiled sweetly, “Yes – we’ll be fine. Besides, Ron said he’d try and stop by again today.”
Neville considered her for a moment, “Okay, but send me a post if you need anything, alright?”
“Yes, Professor Longbottom.” Sean sighed with a small smile.
Neville failed to suppress his grin, “That is so wrong.”
Sean scoffed and smacked him lightly on the chest before leaning forward to kiss him briefly. “Go – you don’t want to be late for your first class.” Neville sighed heavily, as if reconsidering his decision to leave. “Ugh, just go!” Sean laughed quietly, and Neville kissed her once more before turning on the spot and Disapparating.
Sean sighed heavily, relieved to finally be alone (even if Teddy was still asleep upstairs). She began to gather the cups and dishes that had somehow been strewn all over the living room over the past few days, seriously considering sending Molly a post about cleaning spells. After loading the last cup and saucer in the dishwasher, Sean trudged back into the living room and plopped down onto the sofa, utterly exhausted though she hadn’t yet been awake four hours. Suddenly, a loud ‘pop’ shattered the peaceful silence and Sean’s hand flew to her wand, tucked inside her jeans’ waistband, and pointed it at the intruder – her heart thudding loudly against her ribcage.
“Hold on!” a deep voice shouted, sounding as startled as Sean felt, and she finally recognized the regal figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
“Jeez, Shacklebolt – you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Sean exclaimed, replacing her wand as she stood to shake the Minister’s hand.
Shacklebolt sighed, “Sorry about the intrusion, but I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for several days… on your own…”
Sean rolled her eyes and turned away from the Minister towards the kitchen, “You could at least warn me when you’re going to spy on me, Kingsley.”
Kingsley frowned at the corners of his mouth, but otherwise ignored her last comment. “How are you doing, Sean?”
Turning to face him and cocking her head to the side, Sean raised her eyebrows in mock disbelief, “Don’t you know already?”
The Minister sighed, “May we sit down?” he asked heavily while motioning to the living area behind them.
“Sure.” Sean relented; after all, Kingsley did Feel extremely tired.
As the both sat, weighed down with the seriousness of the conversation they both felt coming, a trickle of small, innocent confusions began to tickle Sean’s spine. She spun around in her chair, before Shacklebolt could speak, to see Teddy watching them from the staircase in his Spiderman pajamas and crimson hair. “Hold on…” Sean mumbled to her guest as she rose from her seat and moved to the staircase to pick up her son in one fluid motion.
“Mum?” Teddy began quietly as his anxiety faded, only to be replaced with sadness.
“Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay…” Sean soothed, but tears had already begun to roll down his cheeks.
Teddy picked his head up off Sean’s shoulder, his face wet and flushed pink, “When’s Harry coming back?”
She Felt Kingsley tense up before he coughed uncomfortably, but she ignored him and gently stroked Teddy’s hair, “Your godfather loves you very much, and he wants to be here with you always, but grown-ups sometimes have to leave – they have obligations that sometimes keep them away from the people they love. Remember when you were sad when I had to leave a long time ago for the World Cup?” Teddy nodded as he rubbed away his tears with the palms of his hands, “I had to leave, it was my job… but I came back, didn’t I?” Teddy nodded again, his cheeks beginning to flush once more as he remembered missing Sean – even though he had still been with Andromeda Tonks at the time. “Oh, I know you’re sad, but Harry’ll come to see you as soon as he can, okay?”
Teddy nodded a final time as his cheeks and hair began to subside to their natural colors. “Okay.”
Sean smiled and cradled Teddy’s head while giving him a kiss on the forehead, “Why don’t you go play in your playroom for a little while; I have to talk to Mr. Shacklebolt for a few minutes.”
Teddy turned to look at Kingsley, who smiled kindly at him. Sean then let him slide out of her arms and he walked slowly back up the staircase, his footed Spiderman pajamas thumping quietly on each stair. Sean turned and walked just as slowly down the stairs and back to her seat in the living room opposite Kingsley. “I apologize for waking him… I didn’t think he’d be here, to be honest…”
“He’s my son,” Sean retorted with a hint of malice, “he needs me now more than ever.” She knew Kingsley had meant no disrespect, but she couldn’t help directing some of her anger at him.
“You’re right.” He sighed heavily, and Sean let her anger abate. “I wish I could have visited under better circumstances, Kiernan.” Kingsley admitted with downcast eyes, and Sean nodded to show her appreciation. “As it is, the circumstances we have in front of us are grim. As you must know by now, Potter has been missing for nearly a week. Ron has filled me in as to the details of what led up to his disappearance, and I am gravely concerned.”
Sean leaned forward, bracing her forearms on her knees and folding her hands loosely, “I can’t find him, Kingsley, he’s somehow blocked to me. Even so, I’m not sure I would want to see what he’s up to.”
The Minister sighed again, “I feared as much; I figured you would’ve tried to find him as soon as possible if you had the ability. I imagine Potter is using every defense he knows to stay undetected, and he knows quite a few.”
“If you assumed that I couldn’t find him, why are you here?” Sean asked bluntly, though the coldness she felt towards the Minister was fading as she Felt his concern for her family growing.
“I came to offer you and Teddy full protection from the Ministry – against whomever it is you Felt that night, even if it was Potter.” Kingsley sat back in his chair, beside himself with the gloom that accompanies admitting a friend might, in fact, be a foe.
Sean considered him in silence for a few moments, finally mimicking his motions as she slouched back in her chair. “I appreciate how difficult this is for you, Kings… I know you care a lot about Harry…” Shacklebolt nodded, “...and while I’m grateful that you’re offering to help, I cannot accept any protection from the Aurors Office.” Kingsley sat up suddenly, slightly stunned by her response, “No, please don’t.” Sean said quietly as she raised an open palm to him, “I know Harry better than anyone and he would never hurt Teddy – especially indirectly hurting him through me.”
After a few minutes of miserable silence, Kinglsey smiled at the corners of his mouth, “I would ask you if you were sure, but I already know the answer.”
They both rose from their chairs and shook hands, “You always do.” Sean replied with a sad smile.
“Be safe.” Kingsley asked, though it sounded more imploring than a casual statement, and he turned away from her to Disapparate. Sean stared at the space that was now vacant, her mind full of racing thoughts… I can’t believe he came… I haven’t seen him in so long… is that all he wanted… what does he think Harry’s capable of… do I really know what Harry’s capable of… what if Harry does come here… no, he wouldn’t… but if he did… Sean shook herself slightly as if trying to shake all her thoughts loose from the captivity of her mind. She pulled out her wand a mumbled a few choice words to restore the protective spell that ceased Apparition in or out of the flat (which she had lifted due to all her recent guests), and made her way up the stairs to Teddy’s playroom.
She observed him from the doorway for a few moments while he watched his broom zoom around the room like a paper airplane on steroids. For someone so small, he was filled with such a serious sadness that left Sean feeling completely helpless. She sighed deeply before moving towards him, then sat down next to where he was playing as he crawled into her lap. “Sean?” Teddy asked tentatively while he grasped her shirt tightly.
“Yes, SpiderTeddy?” Sean smiled gently.
“I don’t want to be me today.” He said simply, and Sean was taken aback at how poignant this statement was.
She furrowed her eyebrows in confused surprise, “Ahm, well… who do you want too be then?”
For the first time in nearly five days, Teddy smiled, “Superman.”
Wrapping her arms around him, Sean squeezed him in a gentle hug. “SuperTeddy it is, then. Come on, let’s get you dressed.” Teddy hopped out of her lap and waited for her to stand, then took her by the hand and led her to his play closet in his room. Well, it was supposed to be his play closet… filled with costumes from Batman to Green Arrow to the Flash – all the comic characters Sean had loved as a child and introduced to Teddy. And, being the believer in self-expression she was (what with being a Metamorphmagus, and all), she regularly let Teddy wear his superhero outfits as daywear; it finally seemed like his Spiderman phase was coming to an end.
Soon, the Boy of Steel was flying all over the flat, and Teddy’s smile seemed to have made a complete recovery. A sense of peace and calm were finally restored to their home by the late afternoon, when SuperTeddy lay dozing in Sean’s arms while she read Through the Looking Glass. Suddenly, for the second time that day, a loud noise not-unlike thunder shook both Sean and Teddy from their daze. They sat up very still and alert, Teddy clutching his adoptive mother’s shirt while they waited for whatever would come next.
The thundering noise shook the entire flat once more, only this time it was followed by a much more distinctive sound… “Damn!”
Sean relaxed her shoulders and sigh in relief, almost laughing as she placed her hand over her racing heart. “It’s okay, Teddy…” she said soothingly as she ruffled his hair and moved from the sofa towards the front door. Opening it, Sean crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe while grinning at the man barely able to stand on her doorstop.
“You put… the spell… back up… then?” he wheezed as smoke rose up out of his collared shirt.
“Thought you would’ve caught on after the first try.” Sean shrugged, still grinning.
“It was… an… emergency…” he heaved, placing one arm on the doorway to stabilize himself.
“Uncle Ron!” a voice shouted excitedly from behind her, and Sean saw Teddy race past her legs and crash into the still-recovering Weasley.
It was too much for him, and Ron keeled over backwards – Teddy ending up sitting on his chest, smiling proudly. “Ugh, not… right… now…” Ron groaned, and Teddy slid off him and dashed back beside Sean.
“So what’s the big emergency?” Sean asked nonchalantly as she helped Ron back to his feet; usually she would be able to Feel him Empathically and figure out what was going on, but he was simply to tired to give off any readable emotion. Ron staggered inside, collapsing onto the staircase and raising a finger to silently ask Sean to ‘wait’; apparently, it wasn’t that big an emergency. Sean waited a few more minutes in silence, until she finally gave up and ‘humpfed’ out of irritation. “Seriously, this is ridiculous – I have to get dinner started, Ron.” she stated flatly as she placed her hands on her hips.
Ron nodded his agreement and grabbed the banister to hoist himself back up to his feet. “Sorry, that just really hurt…” Sean couldn’t help but grin a little. “So, the emergency – right, Gemma’s in labor and everyone’s meeting at the hospital.”
“What?”
Ron rolled his eyes, “Gem-ma is in la-bor.” He grinned at her while she processed the information, her face wrought with shock.
Sean started and grabbed Ron’s shirt collar, yanking him towards her while grimacing at his face only centimeters away, “Ron Weasley, I oughtta kick your arse…”
Ron’s face now matched the same shock Sean felt, but it was nothing compared to Teddy’s sudden flood of disappointment, “Mum!” Both Sean and Ron turned to look down at him, one hand on his hip and the other waving an angry finger, “That’s a bad word!”
“Right…” Sean began slowly, finally releasing Ron as her self-awareness seemed to come back to her. “Well, I guess we should be off, then.” She nodded while straightening her top, then grabbed her purse in one hand, Teddy’s hand in the other, and walked out of the flat – cool as can be while Ron stared, completely flabbergasted.
“Come on, Uncle Ron!” Teddy yelled over his shoulder, which was apparently enough to wake him out of his stupor, and he followed them out of the building.
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Nine: The Minister and the Missing
The days that followed after the fall-out were as cold and miserable as the sleet that blanketed the city. Neville had taken a few days off from teaching to stay with Sean and Teddy, though they were hardly alone; their living room seemed to suddenly overflow with red hair and deep conversation. The most disturbing of these discussions came only yesterday, when Ron revealed that Harry had practically vanished – not coming to work or answering owl post or phone class; Harry was never one to disappear or hide – no matter what kind of trouble he was in. Nonetheless, Sean couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved that he was seemingly gone.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Neville asked for the umpteenth time, gentle concern in his eyes.
Sean rolled her eyes and smiled sweetly, “Yes – we’ll be fine. Besides, Ron said he’d try and stop by again today.”
Neville considered her for a moment, “Okay, but send me a post if you need anything, alright?”
“Yes, Professor Longbottom.” Sean sighed with a small smile.
Neville failed to suppress his grin, “That is so wrong.”
Sean scoffed and smacked him lightly on the chest before leaning forward to kiss him briefly. “Go – you don’t want to be late for your first class.” Neville sighed heavily, as if reconsidering his decision to leave. “Ugh, just go!” Sean laughed quietly, and Neville kissed her once more before turning on the spot and Disapparating.
Sean sighed heavily, relieved to finally be alone (even if Teddy was still asleep upstairs). She began to gather the cups and dishes that had somehow been strewn all over the living room over the past few days, seriously considering sending Molly a post about cleaning spells. After loading the last cup and saucer in the dishwasher, Sean trudged back into the living room and plopped down onto the sofa, utterly exhausted though she hadn’t yet been awake four hours. Suddenly, a loud ‘pop’ shattered the peaceful silence and Sean’s hand flew to her wand, tucked inside her jeans’ waistband, and pointed it at the intruder – her heart thudding loudly against her ribcage.
“Hold on!” a deep voice shouted, sounding as startled as Sean felt, and she finally recognized the regal figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
“Jeez, Shacklebolt – you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Sean exclaimed, replacing her wand as she stood to shake the Minister’s hand.
Shacklebolt sighed, “Sorry about the intrusion, but I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for several days… on your own…”
Sean rolled her eyes and turned away from the Minister towards the kitchen, “You could at least warn me when you’re going to spy on me, Kingsley.”
Kingsley frowned at the corners of his mouth, but otherwise ignored her last comment. “How are you doing, Sean?”
Turning to face him and cocking her head to the side, Sean raised her eyebrows in mock disbelief, “Don’t you know already?”
The Minister sighed, “May we sit down?” he asked heavily while motioning to the living area behind them.
“Sure.” Sean relented; after all, Kingsley did Feel extremely tired.
As the both sat, weighed down with the seriousness of the conversation they both felt coming, a trickle of small, innocent confusions began to tickle Sean’s spine. She spun around in her chair, before Shacklebolt could speak, to see Teddy watching them from the staircase in his Spiderman pajamas and crimson hair. “Hold on…” Sean mumbled to her guest as she rose from her seat and moved to the staircase to pick up her son in one fluid motion.
“Mum?” Teddy began quietly as his anxiety faded, only to be replaced with sadness.
“Shh, sweetheart, it’s okay…” Sean soothed, but tears had already begun to roll down his cheeks.
Teddy picked his head up off Sean’s shoulder, his face wet and flushed pink, “When’s Harry coming back?”
She Felt Kingsley tense up before he coughed uncomfortably, but she ignored him and gently stroked Teddy’s hair, “Your godfather loves you very much, and he wants to be here with you always, but grown-ups sometimes have to leave – they have obligations that sometimes keep them away from the people they love. Remember when you were sad when I had to leave a long time ago for the World Cup?” Teddy nodded as he rubbed away his tears with the palms of his hands, “I had to leave, it was my job… but I came back, didn’t I?” Teddy nodded again, his cheeks beginning to flush once more as he remembered missing Sean – even though he had still been with Andromeda Tonks at the time. “Oh, I know you’re sad, but Harry’ll come to see you as soon as he can, okay?”
Teddy nodded a final time as his cheeks and hair began to subside to their natural colors. “Okay.”
Sean smiled and cradled Teddy’s head while giving him a kiss on the forehead, “Why don’t you go play in your playroom for a little while; I have to talk to Mr. Shacklebolt for a few minutes.”
Teddy turned to look at Kingsley, who smiled kindly at him. Sean then let him slide out of her arms and he walked slowly back up the staircase, his footed Spiderman pajamas thumping quietly on each stair. Sean turned and walked just as slowly down the stairs and back to her seat in the living room opposite Kingsley. “I apologize for waking him… I didn’t think he’d be here, to be honest…”
“He’s my son,” Sean retorted with a hint of malice, “he needs me now more than ever.” She knew Kingsley had meant no disrespect, but she couldn’t help directing some of her anger at him.
“You’re right.” He sighed heavily, and Sean let her anger abate. “I wish I could have visited under better circumstances, Kiernan.” Kingsley admitted with downcast eyes, and Sean nodded to show her appreciation. “As it is, the circumstances we have in front of us are grim. As you must know by now, Potter has been missing for nearly a week. Ron has filled me in as to the details of what led up to his disappearance, and I am gravely concerned.”
Sean leaned forward, bracing her forearms on her knees and folding her hands loosely, “I can’t find him, Kingsley, he’s somehow blocked to me. Even so, I’m not sure I would want to see what he’s up to.”
The Minister sighed again, “I feared as much; I figured you would’ve tried to find him as soon as possible if you had the ability. I imagine Potter is using every defense he knows to stay undetected, and he knows quite a few.”
“If you assumed that I couldn’t find him, why are you here?” Sean asked bluntly, though the coldness she felt towards the Minister was fading as she Felt his concern for her family growing.
“I came to offer you and Teddy full protection from the Ministry – against whomever it is you Felt that night, even if it was Potter.” Kingsley sat back in his chair, beside himself with the gloom that accompanies admitting a friend might, in fact, be a foe.
Sean considered him in silence for a few moments, finally mimicking his motions as she slouched back in her chair. “I appreciate how difficult this is for you, Kings… I know you care a lot about Harry…” Shacklebolt nodded, “...and while I’m grateful that you’re offering to help, I cannot accept any protection from the Aurors Office.” Kingsley sat up suddenly, slightly stunned by her response, “No, please don’t.” Sean said quietly as she raised an open palm to him, “I know Harry better than anyone and he would never hurt Teddy – especially indirectly hurting him through me.”
After a few minutes of miserable silence, Kinglsey smiled at the corners of his mouth, “I would ask you if you were sure, but I already know the answer.”
They both rose from their chairs and shook hands, “You always do.” Sean replied with a sad smile.
“Be safe.” Kingsley asked, though it sounded more imploring than a casual statement, and he turned away from her to Disapparate. Sean stared at the space that was now vacant, her mind full of racing thoughts… I can’t believe he came… I haven’t seen him in so long… is that all he wanted… what does he think Harry’s capable of… do I really know what Harry’s capable of… what if Harry does come here… no, he wouldn’t… but if he did… Sean shook herself slightly as if trying to shake all her thoughts loose from the captivity of her mind. She pulled out her wand a mumbled a few choice words to restore the protective spell that ceased Apparition in or out of the flat (which she had lifted due to all her recent guests), and made her way up the stairs to Teddy’s playroom.
She observed him from the doorway for a few moments while he watched his broom zoom around the room like a paper airplane on steroids. For someone so small, he was filled with such a serious sadness that left Sean feeling completely helpless. She sighed deeply before moving towards him, then sat down next to where he was playing as he crawled into her lap. “Sean?” Teddy asked tentatively while he grasped her shirt tightly.
“Yes, SpiderTeddy?” Sean smiled gently.
“I don’t want to be me today.” He said simply, and Sean was taken aback at how poignant this statement was.
She furrowed her eyebrows in confused surprise, “Ahm, well… who do you want too be then?”
For the first time in nearly five days, Teddy smiled, “Superman.”
Wrapping her arms around him, Sean squeezed him in a gentle hug. “SuperTeddy it is, then. Come on, let’s get you dressed.” Teddy hopped out of her lap and waited for her to stand, then took her by the hand and led her to his play closet in his room. Well, it was supposed to be his play closet… filled with costumes from Batman to Green Arrow to the Flash – all the comic characters Sean had loved as a child and introduced to Teddy. And, being the believer in self-expression she was (what with being a Metamorphmagus, and all), she regularly let Teddy wear his superhero outfits as daywear; it finally seemed like his Spiderman phase was coming to an end.
Soon, the Boy of Steel was flying all over the flat, and Teddy’s smile seemed to have made a complete recovery. A sense of peace and calm were finally restored to their home by the late afternoon, when SuperTeddy lay dozing in Sean’s arms while she read Through the Looking Glass. Suddenly, for the second time that day, a loud noise not-unlike thunder shook both Sean and Teddy from their daze. They sat up very still and alert, Teddy clutching his adoptive mother’s shirt while they waited for whatever would come next.
The thundering noise shook the entire flat once more, only this time it was followed by a much more distinctive sound… “Damn!”
Sean relaxed her shoulders and sigh in relief, almost laughing as she placed her hand over her racing heart. “It’s okay, Teddy…” she said soothingly as she ruffled his hair and moved from the sofa towards the front door. Opening it, Sean crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe while grinning at the man barely able to stand on her doorstop.
“You put… the spell… back up… then?” he wheezed as smoke rose up out of his collared shirt.
“Thought you would’ve caught on after the first try.” Sean shrugged, still grinning.
“It was… an… emergency…” he heaved, placing one arm on the doorway to stabilize himself.
“Uncle Ron!” a voice shouted excitedly from behind her, and Sean saw Teddy race past her legs and crash into the still-recovering Weasley.
It was too much for him, and Ron keeled over backwards – Teddy ending up sitting on his chest, smiling proudly. “Ugh, not… right… now…” Ron groaned, and Teddy slid off him and dashed back beside Sean.
“So what’s the big emergency?” Sean asked nonchalantly as she helped Ron back to his feet; usually she would be able to Feel him Empathically and figure out what was going on, but he was simply to tired to give off any readable emotion. Ron staggered inside, collapsing onto the staircase and raising a finger to silently ask Sean to ‘wait’; apparently, it wasn’t that big an emergency. Sean waited a few more minutes in silence, until she finally gave up and ‘humpfed’ out of irritation. “Seriously, this is ridiculous – I have to get dinner started, Ron.” she stated flatly as she placed her hands on her hips.
Ron nodded his agreement and grabbed the banister to hoist himself back up to his feet. “Sorry, that just really hurt…” Sean couldn’t help but grin a little. “So, the emergency – right, Gemma’s in labor and everyone’s meeting at the hospital.”
“What?”
Ron rolled his eyes, “Gem-ma is in la-bor.” He grinned at her while she processed the information, her face wrought with shock.
Sean started and grabbed Ron’s shirt collar, yanking him towards her while grimacing at his face only centimeters away, “Ron Weasley, I oughtta kick your arse…”
Ron’s face now matched the same shock Sean felt, but it was nothing compared to Teddy’s sudden flood of disappointment, “Mum!” Both Sean and Ron turned to look down at him, one hand on his hip and the other waving an angry finger, “That’s a bad word!”
“Right…” Sean began slowly, finally releasing Ron as her self-awareness seemed to come back to her. “Well, I guess we should be off, then.” She nodded while straightening her top, then grabbed her purse in one hand, Teddy’s hand in the other, and walked out of the flat – cool as can be while Ron stared, completely flabbergasted.
“Come on, Uncle Ron!” Teddy yelled over his shoulder, which was apparently enough to wake him out of his stupor, and he followed them out of the building.
info-comments-questions-reviews
two weeks... i'm surprised, myself...
Ten: The Birth and the Black
The waiting room was filled with the most oddly-dressed group of people, all waiting for the all-clear from George. Sean looked around and smiled to see Arthur and Molly sitting quietly with their arms around each other while watching Victoire chase Teddy around the table, trying to kiss him. Hermione was sitting on the arm rest of Ron’s chair, pretending she wasn’t eager for the day when it was her turn to be in the maternity ward while everyone waited for Ron to bring them news; Ron was pretending he wasn’t terrified of the exact same thought. Fleur was trying to get her daughter to stop running, especially since Teddy had already changed his hair color to red to let everyone know just how angry he was – and one of the muggle doctors had noticed something different about the five year old.
Sean sighed as she looked around Gemma’s modest family, half-muggle and half-magical, blending easily with the Weasley’s, and she found herself somehow on the outside looking in. She had experienced feeling like an outsider once before in her second family, but she had been quarreling with both twins at the time. Now, however, she wasn’t openly at odds with any of the Weasley family, but – she reminded herself – it could easily be perceived that it was her fault the other ‘adopted’ Weasley wasn’t present.
She let herself slip away into memories of Fred, George, and herself at the Burrow, playing Quidditch and sneaking out at night into the muggle village, until Teddy ran into her knees and brought her back to the muggle hospital waiting room. “DON’T LET HER GET ME!” Teddy cried as he hugged her knees for dear life.
Sean tired not to laugh, “Okay, okay!” She pulled him onto her lap as Victoire ran into her, “Tori, I think Teddy doesn’t want to play anymore.” Victoire stuck out her bottom lip for a moment, then skulked off to sit with her mother and little brother once she realized that the game really was over. Teddy was playing with her necklace as his childish confusion coursed into her, “Teddy, what’s wrong?”
He looked down for a moment, then sighed with the weight of someone much older, “Tori says that when you get married and have babies, I have to go and live with her.”
Sean half-scoffed through a smile, “Oh, she does?”
“But I don’t want to leave you, Sean…” Teddy confessed, Feeling rather small despite the superhero costume.
Sean laughed quietly, “Teddy, you will never, ever have to leave unless you want to, okay?”
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “But what if I never want to?”
She kissed him gently on the forehead and wrapped her arms around him like a cocoon, “Then you never have to.”
Teddy smiled and laid his head upon her chest as his breathing finally seemed to slow after all his running, “Sean?”
“Yes, SuperTeddy?”
He picked up his head and looked directly into her eyes, “Thanks for being my mum.”
“Best job in the whole wide world.” Sean whispered back as he replaced his head onto her chest.
She was humming quietly as she Felt him drift away into slumber when the double doors to the maternity ward burst open and George came striding in. “It’s a boy!” he yelled to his friends and family, and everyone got up to hug and congratulate him while Sean held back in order not to wake her sleeping son. “Sean! Where’s Sean?” George called over the many red-haired heads.
“Shh, here!” Sean stood and raised her hand, then let Molly take the sleeping Teddy while everyone else parted to let George through.
He grinned and hugged her tightly, “I talked with Gemma, and we want you to meet him first.”
Stunned, Sean managed a smile, “Are you sure? What about Molly?”
George took her hand and pulled her through the double doors, “They can wait a few minutes…” he winked. They walked down the hallway past Gemma’s private room to the nursery, “Gemma’s asleep, so the nurse brought him here - give me just one second…” He grinned as he ducked into the nursery, Sean’s excitement continuing to build even though George had left the room. He returned a few minutes later, carefully holding what appeared to be a bundle of blankets in his arms. “Sean, there’s someone I’d like you to meet…”
Sean gasped in joyful surprise as she took the baby boy in her arms, then pushed the blankets covering his head back and smiled to see his fiery red hair. He yawned quietly and flitted his eyes open for a brief moment before falling back asleep, and Sean felt tears rolling down her cheeks as she realized exactly who this little boy looked like. “Oh, there you are…” she whispered as she rocked him back and forth, “I thought we’d lost you…” She turned to face George, “its Fred.”
George had tears running down his own face, “I know… well, actually it’s Fred Weasley the second.” She continued to rock Fred back and forth, completely at a loss for words at how beautiful and perfect he was. “Sean...” George came up beside her and put a hand on her back, “Gemma and I want you to be his godmother.”
“But I’m already his aunt…” she whispered with a smile, her lips wet with tears.
George kissed her on the forehead, “You can be both.”
It was better than anything she had ever felt in her life, holding the best friend she thought she’d lost in her arms – better than dancing, Quidditch, anything. It was like there was a glow around them, guarding them from any harm… despite the ache of sadness in Sean’s lower abdomen that there was someone who couldn’t be there to share in their joy.
* * * * * *
Sean roamed the streets of Diagon Alley freely, enjoying the mid-November frost that gave the city a sense of warmth in spite of the cold. Both she and Teddy had been staying in George’s old loft above number 93 for nearly two weeks while he stayed at home with Gemma and Freddie on paternity leave. It was unexpectedly nostalgic, living in the apartment she had called home after the death of Fred Weasley the first - and once again after the birth of Fred Weasley the second. Lost in these ironic thoughts and memories, as she often was these days, Sean ducked into the Leaky Cauldron and settled herself at the bar, growing busier as evening approached.
“Hey Kiernan, where’s your little one?” Tom the barman asked as he poured her a glass of firewhiskey.
Sean nodded her thanks and took a sip before answering, “At Charlie and Rena’s for a play-date with their son, Arthur.”
Tom smiled, “Ah, so you enjoying your day off, then?”
“Oddly enough, I find myself a little bored…” Sean smirked.
“Well, we’ll have to do something about that.”
Sean spun around on her stool to find a man sitting down beside her, smiling kindly. “Rhode! What are you doing here?”
The professor shrugged and raised his hand to indicate an order to Tom, “It’s Saturday, I have the day off.”
“Right, of course…” Sean mumbled as he took a swig from his glass.
“So, is Longbottom coming down as well?” Estran asked politely as he turned to look directly at her.
His eyes seemed to be burning into her, like they always did, and she shook herself slightly, “Ahm, no… no, he’s not. He’s got a lot of work to catch up on back at school.”
“That’s a shame,” Rhode said, not entirely believable, “do you have any other plans?”
Sean could Feel Tom’s suspicion more clearly than anything coming from Rhode, and she wondered vaguely why, “Ahm, no… not really…”
Rhode raised a surprised eyebrow, “Really? You – don’t have any plans?”
Sean felt her own cheeks flush and looked down, slightly embarrassed, “Well, my son is spending the night at a friend’s house, and I’m on sabbatical from work.”
Estran smiled gently, “Why don’t you let me take you out tonight?”
“That’s four sickles, sir.” Tom said abruptly, making both Rhode and Sean jump.
“Oh! Excuse me…” he apologized to the barman, and pulled out one Galleon. “This is for hers as well,” he explained, pointing to Sean, “and you can keep the change.” Tom rolled his eyes and grunted as he walked away towards the till at the other end of the bar.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Sean admitted.
Rhode grinned, “Yes I did – now you owe me.”
Sean pulled back slightly and raised her eyebrows, “Excuse me?”
He shrugged, “It’s okay, you can pay me back by letting me take you out.” Estran grinned, his midnight blue eyes piercing her.
“Well played, professor.” Sean smirked back, then slid off her bar stool and let him hold the door as she stepped onto Charing Cross Road. “So, why is it you chose to visit a lowly, London pub on your day off?” she inquired as she stuffed her hands in her cerulean peacoat and shivered slightly in the chilly air.
“What do you mean?” Rhode asked, an intrigued eyebrow rose as they continued down Charing Cross Road.
Sean raised her shoulders, half-shrugging, “Don’t you have any family you’d rather be spending your time with?”
Rhode grinned, “Life a wife or girlfriend?”
She couldn’t help but smile at the hope she Felt rising from deep within him, “Or a brother, sister, mother, father…”
“Ah, well… my parents passed away when I was very young, and they only had me at the time.” He said it so nonchalantly, but Sean could Feel his rising hope extinguished by a sudden burst of anger.
Sean stopped and place a gentle hand on his arm, “I’m so sorry, Rhode.”
He nodded his appreciation, “It was a long time ago…” They resumed walking, only their footsteps seemed much heavier as they neared the end of the road. Sean Felt a certain ‘cheekiness’ coming from Rhode, and she turned to him right as he began to speak, “By the way, the answer was ‘no’.”
“No, what?”
Rhode grinned, “No, I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend.”
Sean bit her bottom lip and smirked, “So, what’s your boyfriend’s name?”
“Neville!” Rhode exclaimed, suddenly Feeling surprised.
Sean stopped and looked up at Rhode, “Excuse me?”
He was turned towards her, but facing back the way they had come, “Neville!” Rhode pointed towards the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.
Sean turned back to look where Rhode was pointing, an odd tingling beginning in the base of her spine. Sure enough, Neville was coming upon them quickly, looking completely livid. “What are you doing here?” Sean asked in surprise, already opening her arms to receive him.
“What am I doing here? Just what the bloody hell is he doing here?!” Neville yelled, his face disfigured in anger.
Rhode put his palms up and stepped away from them both, “Look Longbottom, we were just talking…”
Neville screwed up his face and spat back, “Don’t patronize me, Estran.”
Sean was completely taken aback by his brashness, not to mention his use of expletives, but was even more surprised at her failing ability to Feel him. In fact, he Felt stifled and somewhat numb, like there was something stunting his emotions. Sean looked back at the bar sign now waving in the breeze, and it suddenly clicked, “Neville, have you been drinking?”
“Don’t change the subject – what is he doing here?” Neville reiterated, his face now growing red in his rage.
Sean half-laughed, trying to calm him with her gentle demeanor – she had never seen him like this before, and it was hard to believe he was serious. “We met coincidentally at the Cauldron, we were just talking – as friends.” She smiled softly and placed her hands on either side on his neck.
Neville grabbed her hands and pulled her roughly towards him – he wasn’t calming down, “Like George or Ron?”
“Hey!” Rhode leapt forward, wrenching Neville’s grasp from her hands, “Don’t touch her like that!”
With Rhode in between herself and Neville, Sean was inadvertently shoved backwards as Neville’s grasp on her broke. “Ugh!” she gasped as her lungs emptied and she took a few stumbling steps backwards, now watching both men glare at each other while she took a deep breath. They each seemed to be waiting for the other to do or say something, Neville’s alcohol-numbed emotions clashing drastically with Rhode’s protective concern for her as their heavy breaths on the cold air made it seem as if both of them were breathing fire. The seconds continued to pass like lightning in a snowstorm – time was moving so slowly, but the air was still intense with electricity. Finally, Sean moved cautiously towards them both, stepping into the space between them and facing Neville. “I think you should go back to the pub.”
Neville didn’t answer, but continued to shoot daggers at Rhode with his eyes.
Sean sighed heavily, the fog from her breath mixing with that from Neville’s huffs, “You’re drunk, go sleep it off.” Neville’s snarl finally moved from Rhode to her, and Sean felt her cheeks begin to sting as the wind chill picked up… or what she hoped was the wind chill… he wouldn’t—
She hit the ground hard and spat blood onto the concrete, Rhode yelping in surprise from somewhere above her. Neville had slapped her… he had hit her… the stinging on her cheek had been her Sight after all, though it was dulled by the inebriated emotions of her boyfriend… her ex-boyfriend… if he had been sober she would have been able to See it coming… if he had been sober he wouldn’t have hit her… Time seemed to have slowed as she turned and looked up to where he was standing above her, his face twisted in sinister satisfaction at causing her pain. He was still leering at her when Rhode’s fist collided with the side of his face, and he stumbled sideways until he reached the wall and used it for support.
“Sean…” Rhode whispered as he knelt beside her, swimming with concern and outrage all at once.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him, though… she just couldn’t believe that her Neville had done this… but her pulsing cheek and eye told her otherwise. If it had been anyone else, she would have slugged them back – but just not Neville. And then, gradually and swiftly all at once, realization washed over her and time began to move normally again. “It was you…” Rhode helped her off the ground, but she continued to stare into Neville’s eyes, “…you were the one I Felt that night, not Harry…” Neville didn’t respond, but simply maintained his glower at her until he stood up straight and pushed himself away from the wall. This can’t be real, Sean thought desperately, this isn’t happening… it can’t be right… She had Felt Neville on such an intimate scale for so long… he didn’t have the capacity for that kind of Darkness… at least, not by himself… Tears began to well behind her eyes as her straight, black hair whipped about her face in the wind, “It wasn’t just you, and it wasn’t just Harry… why would you do this to me?” Sean hated the pleading tone in her voice but she couldn’t suppress it, “What did I ever do to you both?”
Once again, Neville didn’t respond. He straightened his coat and brushed the hair that had fallen in his eyes, ignoring the swelling break in his nose. Without a word, he turned and walked back up Charing Cross Road. Sean watched him in continued disbelief, wondering if she should be angry at both Harry and Neville… or herself. “Sean…” a voice said softly, and she suddenly remembered Rhode was still by her side. “Is there some place I can take you?”
Sean turned and looked in his eyes, thankful for the warmth and worry he Felt for her. “I don’t know where to go…” she admitted pitifully.
“Where’s home?” Rhode asked, his voice tender and reassuring.
Sean let her head fall as a tear shattered on her boot, “I wish I knew.”
Now I know you're going to have something to say about this one...
Ten: The Birth and the Black
The waiting room was filled with the most oddly-dressed group of people, all waiting for the all-clear from George. Sean looked around and smiled to see Arthur and Molly sitting quietly with their arms around each other while watching Victoire chase Teddy around the table, trying to kiss him. Hermione was sitting on the arm rest of Ron’s chair, pretending she wasn’t eager for the day when it was her turn to be in the maternity ward while everyone waited for Ron to bring them news; Ron was pretending he wasn’t terrified of the exact same thought. Fleur was trying to get her daughter to stop running, especially since Teddy had already changed his hair color to red to let everyone know just how angry he was – and one of the muggle doctors had noticed something different about the five year old.
Sean sighed as she looked around Gemma’s modest family, half-muggle and half-magical, blending easily with the Weasley’s, and she found herself somehow on the outside looking in. She had experienced feeling like an outsider once before in her second family, but she had been quarreling with both twins at the time. Now, however, she wasn’t openly at odds with any of the Weasley family, but – she reminded herself – it could easily be perceived that it was her fault the other ‘adopted’ Weasley wasn’t present.
She let herself slip away into memories of Fred, George, and herself at the Burrow, playing Quidditch and sneaking out at night into the muggle village, until Teddy ran into her knees and brought her back to the muggle hospital waiting room. “DON’T LET HER GET ME!” Teddy cried as he hugged her knees for dear life.
Sean tired not to laugh, “Okay, okay!” She pulled him onto her lap as Victoire ran into her, “Tori, I think Teddy doesn’t want to play anymore.” Victoire stuck out her bottom lip for a moment, then skulked off to sit with her mother and little brother once she realized that the game really was over. Teddy was playing with her necklace as his childish confusion coursed into her, “Teddy, what’s wrong?”
He looked down for a moment, then sighed with the weight of someone much older, “Tori says that when you get married and have babies, I have to go and live with her.”
Sean half-scoffed through a smile, “Oh, she does?”
“But I don’t want to leave you, Sean…” Teddy confessed, Feeling rather small despite the superhero costume.
Sean laughed quietly, “Teddy, you will never, ever have to leave unless you want to, okay?”
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “But what if I never want to?”
She kissed him gently on the forehead and wrapped her arms around him like a cocoon, “Then you never have to.”
Teddy smiled and laid his head upon her chest as his breathing finally seemed to slow after all his running, “Sean?”
“Yes, SuperTeddy?”
He picked up his head and looked directly into her eyes, “Thanks for being my mum.”
“Best job in the whole wide world.” Sean whispered back as he replaced his head onto her chest.
She was humming quietly as she Felt him drift away into slumber when the double doors to the maternity ward burst open and George came striding in. “It’s a boy!” he yelled to his friends and family, and everyone got up to hug and congratulate him while Sean held back in order not to wake her sleeping son. “Sean! Where’s Sean?” George called over the many red-haired heads.
“Shh, here!” Sean stood and raised her hand, then let Molly take the sleeping Teddy while everyone else parted to let George through.
He grinned and hugged her tightly, “I talked with Gemma, and we want you to meet him first.”
Stunned, Sean managed a smile, “Are you sure? What about Molly?”
George took her hand and pulled her through the double doors, “They can wait a few minutes…” he winked. They walked down the hallway past Gemma’s private room to the nursery, “Gemma’s asleep, so the nurse brought him here - give me just one second…” He grinned as he ducked into the nursery, Sean’s excitement continuing to build even though George had left the room. He returned a few minutes later, carefully holding what appeared to be a bundle of blankets in his arms. “Sean, there’s someone I’d like you to meet…”
Sean gasped in joyful surprise as she took the baby boy in her arms, then pushed the blankets covering his head back and smiled to see his fiery red hair. He yawned quietly and flitted his eyes open for a brief moment before falling back asleep, and Sean felt tears rolling down her cheeks as she realized exactly who this little boy looked like. “Oh, there you are…” she whispered as she rocked him back and forth, “I thought we’d lost you…” She turned to face George, “its Fred.”
George had tears running down his own face, “I know… well, actually it’s Fred Weasley the second.” She continued to rock Fred back and forth, completely at a loss for words at how beautiful and perfect he was. “Sean...” George came up beside her and put a hand on her back, “Gemma and I want you to be his godmother.”
“But I’m already his aunt…” she whispered with a smile, her lips wet with tears.
George kissed her on the forehead, “You can be both.”
It was better than anything she had ever felt in her life, holding the best friend she thought she’d lost in her arms – better than dancing, Quidditch, anything. It was like there was a glow around them, guarding them from any harm… despite the ache of sadness in Sean’s lower abdomen that there was someone who couldn’t be there to share in their joy.
* * * * * *
Sean roamed the streets of Diagon Alley freely, enjoying the mid-November frost that gave the city a sense of warmth in spite of the cold. Both she and Teddy had been staying in George’s old loft above number 93 for nearly two weeks while he stayed at home with Gemma and Freddie on paternity leave. It was unexpectedly nostalgic, living in the apartment she had called home after the death of Fred Weasley the first - and once again after the birth of Fred Weasley the second. Lost in these ironic thoughts and memories, as she often was these days, Sean ducked into the Leaky Cauldron and settled herself at the bar, growing busier as evening approached.
“Hey Kiernan, where’s your little one?” Tom the barman asked as he poured her a glass of firewhiskey.
Sean nodded her thanks and took a sip before answering, “At Charlie and Rena’s for a play-date with their son, Arthur.”
Tom smiled, “Ah, so you enjoying your day off, then?”
“Oddly enough, I find myself a little bored…” Sean smirked.
“Well, we’ll have to do something about that.”
Sean spun around on her stool to find a man sitting down beside her, smiling kindly. “Rhode! What are you doing here?”
The professor shrugged and raised his hand to indicate an order to Tom, “It’s Saturday, I have the day off.”
“Right, of course…” Sean mumbled as he took a swig from his glass.
“So, is Longbottom coming down as well?” Estran asked politely as he turned to look directly at her.
His eyes seemed to be burning into her, like they always did, and she shook herself slightly, “Ahm, no… no, he’s not. He’s got a lot of work to catch up on back at school.”
“That’s a shame,” Rhode said, not entirely believable, “do you have any other plans?”
Sean could Feel Tom’s suspicion more clearly than anything coming from Rhode, and she wondered vaguely why, “Ahm, no… not really…”
Rhode raised a surprised eyebrow, “Really? You – don’t have any plans?”
Sean felt her own cheeks flush and looked down, slightly embarrassed, “Well, my son is spending the night at a friend’s house, and I’m on sabbatical from work.”
Estran smiled gently, “Why don’t you let me take you out tonight?”
“That’s four sickles, sir.” Tom said abruptly, making both Rhode and Sean jump.
“Oh! Excuse me…” he apologized to the barman, and pulled out one Galleon. “This is for hers as well,” he explained, pointing to Sean, “and you can keep the change.” Tom rolled his eyes and grunted as he walked away towards the till at the other end of the bar.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Sean admitted.
Rhode grinned, “Yes I did – now you owe me.”
Sean pulled back slightly and raised her eyebrows, “Excuse me?”
He shrugged, “It’s okay, you can pay me back by letting me take you out.” Estran grinned, his midnight blue eyes piercing her.
“Well played, professor.” Sean smirked back, then slid off her bar stool and let him hold the door as she stepped onto Charing Cross Road. “So, why is it you chose to visit a lowly, London pub on your day off?” she inquired as she stuffed her hands in her cerulean peacoat and shivered slightly in the chilly air.
“What do you mean?” Rhode asked, an intrigued eyebrow rose as they continued down Charing Cross Road.
Sean raised her shoulders, half-shrugging, “Don’t you have any family you’d rather be spending your time with?”
Rhode grinned, “Life a wife or girlfriend?”
She couldn’t help but smile at the hope she Felt rising from deep within him, “Or a brother, sister, mother, father…”
“Ah, well… my parents passed away when I was very young, and they only had me at the time.” He said it so nonchalantly, but Sean could Feel his rising hope extinguished by a sudden burst of anger.
Sean stopped and place a gentle hand on his arm, “I’m so sorry, Rhode.”
He nodded his appreciation, “It was a long time ago…” They resumed walking, only their footsteps seemed much heavier as they neared the end of the road. Sean Felt a certain ‘cheekiness’ coming from Rhode, and she turned to him right as he began to speak, “By the way, the answer was ‘no’.”
“No, what?”
Rhode grinned, “No, I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend.”
Sean bit her bottom lip and smirked, “So, what’s your boyfriend’s name?”
“Neville!” Rhode exclaimed, suddenly Feeling surprised.
Sean stopped and looked up at Rhode, “Excuse me?”
He was turned towards her, but facing back the way they had come, “Neville!” Rhode pointed towards the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.
Sean turned back to look where Rhode was pointing, an odd tingling beginning in the base of her spine. Sure enough, Neville was coming upon them quickly, looking completely livid. “What are you doing here?” Sean asked in surprise, already opening her arms to receive him.
“What am I doing here? Just what the bloody hell is he doing here?!” Neville yelled, his face disfigured in anger.
Rhode put his palms up and stepped away from them both, “Look Longbottom, we were just talking…”
Neville screwed up his face and spat back, “Don’t patronize me, Estran.”
Sean was completely taken aback by his brashness, not to mention his use of expletives, but was even more surprised at her failing ability to Feel him. In fact, he Felt stifled and somewhat numb, like there was something stunting his emotions. Sean looked back at the bar sign now waving in the breeze, and it suddenly clicked, “Neville, have you been drinking?”
“Don’t change the subject – what is he doing here?” Neville reiterated, his face now growing red in his rage.
Sean half-laughed, trying to calm him with her gentle demeanor – she had never seen him like this before, and it was hard to believe he was serious. “We met coincidentally at the Cauldron, we were just talking – as friends.” She smiled softly and placed her hands on either side on his neck.
Neville grabbed her hands and pulled her roughly towards him – he wasn’t calming down, “Like George or Ron?”
“Hey!” Rhode leapt forward, wrenching Neville’s grasp from her hands, “Don’t touch her like that!”
With Rhode in between herself and Neville, Sean was inadvertently shoved backwards as Neville’s grasp on her broke. “Ugh!” she gasped as her lungs emptied and she took a few stumbling steps backwards, now watching both men glare at each other while she took a deep breath. They each seemed to be waiting for the other to do or say something, Neville’s alcohol-numbed emotions clashing drastically with Rhode’s protective concern for her as their heavy breaths on the cold air made it seem as if both of them were breathing fire. The seconds continued to pass like lightning in a snowstorm – time was moving so slowly, but the air was still intense with electricity. Finally, Sean moved cautiously towards them both, stepping into the space between them and facing Neville. “I think you should go back to the pub.”
Neville didn’t answer, but continued to shoot daggers at Rhode with his eyes.
Sean sighed heavily, the fog from her breath mixing with that from Neville’s huffs, “You’re drunk, go sleep it off.” Neville’s snarl finally moved from Rhode to her, and Sean felt her cheeks begin to sting as the wind chill picked up… or what she hoped was the wind chill… he wouldn’t—
She hit the ground hard and spat blood onto the concrete, Rhode yelping in surprise from somewhere above her. Neville had slapped her… he had hit her… the stinging on her cheek had been her Sight after all, though it was dulled by the inebriated emotions of her boyfriend… her ex-boyfriend… if he had been sober she would have been able to See it coming… if he had been sober he wouldn’t have hit her… Time seemed to have slowed as she turned and looked up to where he was standing above her, his face twisted in sinister satisfaction at causing her pain. He was still leering at her when Rhode’s fist collided with the side of his face, and he stumbled sideways until he reached the wall and used it for support.
“Sean…” Rhode whispered as he knelt beside her, swimming with concern and outrage all at once.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him, though… she just couldn’t believe that her Neville had done this… but her pulsing cheek and eye told her otherwise. If it had been anyone else, she would have slugged them back – but just not Neville. And then, gradually and swiftly all at once, realization washed over her and time began to move normally again. “It was you…” Rhode helped her off the ground, but she continued to stare into Neville’s eyes, “…you were the one I Felt that night, not Harry…” Neville didn’t respond, but simply maintained his glower at her until he stood up straight and pushed himself away from the wall. This can’t be real, Sean thought desperately, this isn’t happening… it can’t be right… She had Felt Neville on such an intimate scale for so long… he didn’t have the capacity for that kind of Darkness… at least, not by himself… Tears began to well behind her eyes as her straight, black hair whipped about her face in the wind, “It wasn’t just you, and it wasn’t just Harry… why would you do this to me?” Sean hated the pleading tone in her voice but she couldn’t suppress it, “What did I ever do to you both?”
Once again, Neville didn’t respond. He straightened his coat and brushed the hair that had fallen in his eyes, ignoring the swelling break in his nose. Without a word, he turned and walked back up Charing Cross Road. Sean watched him in continued disbelief, wondering if she should be angry at both Harry and Neville… or herself. “Sean…” a voice said softly, and she suddenly remembered Rhode was still by her side. “Is there some place I can take you?”
Sean turned and looked in his eyes, thankful for the warmth and worry he Felt for her. “I don’t know where to go…” she admitted pitifully.
“Where’s home?” Rhode asked, his voice tender and reassuring.
Sean let her head fall as a tear shattered on her boot, “I wish I knew.”
Now I know you're going to have something to say about this one...
So, how surprised are you that it only took me a week? I'm pretty surprised myself...
Eleven: The Minister and the Missing, Part II
“I’ll kill him.” George said, simply stating what he was planning to do and just giving his notice.
“No, you won’t.” Ron warned him, “I don’t want to have to arrest you.”
George glared at his younger brother, both of them standing opposite the couch where Hermione applied magical medical aid to Sean’s eye and cheek. “I’ll plead temporary insanity, the Wizengamot could never convict me.”
“No one’s going to kill anyone.” Sean sighed, trying to calm them both.
George grunted in disbelief, “If you think I’m just going to let that tree-hugger beat you—”
“Just give it a rest, all right?” Sean cut him off as Hermione placed the last bandage across her cheek where Neville’s ring had scratched her.
George scoffed indignantly, “No, I will not ‘give it a rest’!” He unfolded his arms and moved to sit on the coffee table in front of her, “He hit you, Sean! I’m not letting him get away with it!”
Hermione sighed beside her, “I just can’t believe Neville would do this… Neville Longbottom… you’re sure he was smashed?”
Sean sighed and ran a hand through her short, black hair, “Actually, that’s what is really bothering me - I’m not so sure that was really Neville… I mean I know it was him, but there was something wrong; just like there was with Harry last month. I know Neville and I know Harry… I just don’t believe they could do something like this of their own volition…”
Ron nodded and exhaled deeply, “I know what you mean – when you told me you had Felt that stuff from Harry, I had such a hard time believing it… Not that I didn’t believe you Felt it, or anything, but from Harry? Something just felt wrong…”
“Look, I know this is going to sound completely paranoid, but I think someone or something is trying to get at me… I think by using the people I care about…” Sean admitted painfully, ignoring Hermione’s inner jerk at her indirect confession of caring about Harry.
“Do you have any enemies? Anyone who might like to see you hurt?” Ron asked, his voice deepening as his Auror instincts took over.
Sean gave him a knowing look, “If I had any ‘enemies’, wouldn’t you know about it?” Ron flushed ever-so-slightly. “Besides, the only ‘enemies’ I could even imagine are people who wanted to hurt Harry when we were together, and that was so long ago… It’s not like Neville’s got any enemies…”
“He does now.” George growled under his breath.
Hermione placed her forearm on the back of the couch and angled her arm to hold her head off to the side, “I have to admit, this is awful strange; do you think they might have been bewitched?”
Sean sighed and pulled her legs beneath her, “To be honest, I know Harry wasn’t - I can usually Feel it when someone’s under the influence of a spell or potion… Neville just Felt blitzed…” she shrugged.
“Maybe whoever is behind this has found a way to mess with your Sight as well as their sobriety, or whatever…” Ron offered, surprisingly insightful.
She considered him for a moment, “It’s a thought, but I don’t know when anyone would have been able to do anything to me… I mean, I keep both Teddy and I fairly well protected…”
Hermione gasped suddenly, “Oh gosh, you don’t think this person might do anything to Teddy, do you?”
Sean closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead in frustration, “Actually, that’s exactly what I think they might do. If someone really does want to hurt me, then their best shot is through Teddy.”
George furrowed his brows, “Where is Teddy?”
“Charlie and Rena’s, spending the night with Arthur.” Sean shrugged, completely at a loss for what to do or say next. If she was right, if they all were, her son’s life was in grave danger. Sean shifted around, her feet back on the floor and her elbows on her knees while she put her face in her hands, trying desperately not to cry. She had just lost her boyfriend of over two years, what if she lost her son as well?
George leaned forward and began to run his fingers softly across her back, soothing her while his brotherly concern and affection coursed into her body. She heard Ron sigh through gritted teeth, “We need to get Teddy out of the city.”
Sean moved her hands slowly to her forearms, but remained bent over her knees. “I know where I’m going to take him.”
Ron nodded solemnly, “Good. And then…” he took a deep, weighted breath and sat down beside George, “then you have to disappear.”
Before she could respond, Hermione had thrown her arms around her and embraced her tightly as her tears stained her boots for the second time that night.
* * * * * *
He slammed his fists on the desk, making the man sitting behind it jump in surprise. “This isn’t fair! Why did you ask me to do this?” he demanded.
The man behind the desk flattened his shirt with a soft hand and took a deep breath before rising from his seat of authority, “I asked you if you wanted to do this, I never forced you… and I never said it would be easy.” The man moved around his ornately decorated desk, the centerpiece of his impressive office, to stand opposite his friend as an equal.
The younger man huffed indignantly, “I can’t do it anymore, not after what has happened!”
“I know Ron’s information is unnerving—” the elder of the two began carefully, but his friend cut him off – not for the first time that night.
“Unnerving? She said she Felt the Darkness from Longbottom! We have to—”
The elder cut off his counterpart just as he had before, “We have to verify the facts, and that’s all.” He spoke in a deeper, more warning tone than before; he was still his friend’s boss, after all.
The younger man glared at him, desperately trying to regain control of his temper before he spoke again. “What I am supposed to do now, then?” he asked in a quiet voice, his best attempt at calmness, “I can’t just stand by and watch her get hurt.”
He considered his young friend for a moment, so resolute in his love for the woman he scorned so many years ago… so absolute in his faith in her… “I have already asked Ron to take Savage to Hogwarts on detail – if Longbottom is really behind this, which I doubt, we will find out soon enough.”
The young man’s face lit up, reminiscent of his days in Auror training, “Have you asked Savage yet?” The older man let his head sink lower and shake slowly ‘no’, though he couldn’t help but smile at the question he knew was coming next. “Let me go, in Savage’s place… I could take Polyjuice Potion – no one will be the wiser! You said Sean can’t Feel me so she won’t be able to use her Sight to find me, and everyone thinks I’ve disappeared anyway!”
The Minister let his head slowly rise back up to face his friend, positively beside himself with hope, “And what of Savage? What do I do after I’ve asked him to shave his head?”
“Send him on a sealed mission in Eastern Europe, finding out what he can about the Dark wizards!” he pleaded, though he was working hard to keep his racing heartbeat from giving himself away.
Shacklebolt sighed, “You’re going to make one hell of a Head Auror some day, Potter.”
* * * * * *
For the love of God, turn around! her mind screamed as she continued down the long hallway, but her feet didn’t seem to get the message. Are you daft? I said turn around! Yet somehow, she continued walking. It had been years since she walked the hallways of this home, lined with dark woods that gave the house a sense of old refinement – and old money. The theme was definitely ‘wealth’ as she turned the corner and started up the last stairwell (If you don’t turn around now, I will make you trip! her mind threatened as she grabbed hold of the railing), portraits of famous Dukes, Duchesses, Counts, and Countesses lining the walls – all within the owner’s lineage.
She finally reached the large, dark cherry door with the Finnigan family crest proudly emblazoned upon it – a bold move for a man who no longer bore the name he displayed so honorably. Mutinous thoughts ran through her brain, namely setting fire to the door, but she bit her bottom lip and rapped her knuckles loudly upon the wood instead. “Enter.” he commanded, and she knew him well enough to know he wasn’t asking. She turned the latch and pushed the door open, her eyes glued to her feet as she took a deep breath before entering the office.
The room Felt as cold as it ever did, stale and harsh in its unyielding determination to remain untouched. It took her a moment to distinguish his emotions separately from the room – he was always an inanimate figure in her life, why should he Feel any differently? His confusion at the black-haired woman standing in his office gradually seeped into her, and she lifted her head ever-so-slowly to abate his uncertainty. Sure enough, his kelly green eyes met hers and apathetic understanding passed in between them for the first time in recent memory. “Hello, father.”
“Sean.” he stated quietly, simply acknowledging her existence – in his office, or otherwise.
It was rather affectionate, for him, “I have a request.”
He considered her for a moment before he answered, not that she expected him to at all, but he simply observed her from behind his desk with his ever-judging stare. “Financial troubles?” he assumed.
It physically hurt not to roll her eyes. “No, nothing like that. It’s about my son.”
“Your adopted son.” Minister Kiernan corrected her, his doubt pulsing into her like poison.
Sean took a step forward, “My son, Teddy – he needs a safe place to stay.” she confessed, her kelly green eyes painfully pleading with him.
A skeptical eyebrow raised, showing a few wrinkles in his forehead that had not been there the last time she saw him. “Safe?”
“There’s something happening in our world… it’s changing out there… I don’t believe Teddy is safe with me anymore, nor any of my friends… I wouldn’t ask if there was somewhere else he could go, but… as it is…” she trailed off, praying he needed no further explanation.
He didn’t respond verbally, but sighed heavily before running a hand through his hair and slowly rising to his feet. “Sean—”
“Please.” She cut him off quickly, before he could say the heartbreaking words she Felt coming, “Please. What if it was Mariah, or Malcolm… or Seamus? How would you feel if one of them was in danger?” He picked his head up to look at her properly, his expression baffled yet intrigued. “I’ll hire a nanny if you want, you won’t have to do anything! Just let him sleep here, that’s all! I’ll pay you for his room and board, food, whatever – please, he’s just a child… he’s my son…” Again, he kept his words reserved from her, and she knew his answer. Disappointed once more in the father he never tried to be, Sean turned to leave the room and his house a final time.
As she reached for the door handle, her rage from sixteen years of oppression took hold of her and she spun on her heels to face him again. “He asks about you, you know, if we see you on the tele… he wants to know what you’re like. How should I answer him? Should I give him the truth?” Max Kiernan sunk back in his seat, as if his body weighed too much for him to stand anymore, and his eyes drooped to the ground beneath his daughter’s feet. “I tell him that he can ask you one day, whenever he meets you… Well, he can’t ask you if he’s dead!” Max’s eyes shot back up to meet hers, “He’s only five! God, he’s the most fantastic little boy… and the best thing that’s ever happened to me! If anything happened to him, I don’t know what I’d do…” Fierce, salty tears began to swell behind her eyes, and she grit her teeth to hold them back. “You’ve never been a father to me – not once in all my years of trying so hard to be a good daughter to you. Not once,” her bottom lip quivered as she took in a short breath, “not once have you ever taken me into consideration... I am tired of paying for what I am – for who I am… I cannot apologize or suffer for it anymore! And my son – your grandson – will not pay the same price!” She turned away from him, her black hair whipping about her face as she reached for the door handle a second time.
“Sean!” His unexpected call of her name stunned her into stopping, “He – Teddy – can stay as long as you need.” Max Kiernan said quietly, his voice like lead with the weight of his concession.
“I can’t say how long that will be.” Sean admitted, keeping her back to her father.
She Felt him sigh deeply, “I know.”
Sean closed her eyes and mustered her strength before speaking what she knew she must, “If anything should… happen… my friend, Hermione Granger, will collect him.”
“Hermione Granger.” Max repeated gravely, demonstrating his understanding of what his daughter meant by ‘happen’.
Sean debated with herself for a moment before adding “Her core is dragon heartstring.”
Foreign puzzlement trickled down her back, “Why are you telling me this?”
Against all odds, Sean smiled in her father’s study. “When the time is right, you’ll know – I have faith in you.”
She turned the latch and opened the door, assuming their conversation was over until she Felt his sudden fear shoot down her spine, “Wait!” Sean stopped on the threshold of the door that bridged the Kiernan and Finnigan histories and turned her head down and to the side, waiting for him to speak again. “You… you forgot yourself…”
Sean turned sideways to watch him over her left shoulder, surprised to see him standing again, “What?” she asked simply.
“Y-you said Mariah, Malcolm, or Seamus – you forgot yourself.” He looked down, in shame? No, not the powerful Maxwell Kiernan…
“I didn’t forget…” Sean whispered cautiously.
It took a few moments of silence and static for Max to find his daughter’s eyes once more; he was always shocked at how much she looked like him, though she was so different. Sean was fearless, strong, and brave, despite everything she had been through. It had been difficult to be near her in ever since she became a teenager, her glowing presence a reminder of the failure he had been as a father… and the success she had become in spite of him. She was so beautiful and so mesmerizing, he often wondered why she hadn’t been scooped up by some foreign dignitary or diplomat. But, he reminded himself as she stood before him – luminous as ever, she was probably too good for them all. “If you were in danger, if you…” he gulped hard as her kelly green eyes pierced him like they always did, “if you never came back… I don’t know what I’d do…” he finished quietly.
Sean didn’t smile, but gazed at him sadly for a few brief moments, “Thank you.” She turned and left his study, perhaps for the last time in her young life.
I LOVE IT! I hope you did, too!
Twelve: Home and the Hunted
The frozen leaves that littered the Forest floor shattered angrily beneath her paws as she darted in between the naked trees, running steadily towards the valley she called home. Two members of her herd ran just behind her, trying to keep pace with the gray wolf that was now just a black blur dashing through the wood. “Sabriel!” she heard Kieve call from behind, and she spun around in her tracks to wait for both him and their other companion. The chestnut centaur slowed down as he approached, “Sabriel, you forget your size – we are not all as small and swift as you.”
A second, bay centaur came up beside them, laughing through his huffs for air, “How easily I have forgotten how fast you are, Sabriel.”
Sean pulled herself out of her animagus, the bitter frost stinging her naked skin where she just previously had black fur. She rubbed her pixie-short, black hair to loosen any Forest debris that may have gotten caught, and wiped off her khaki boys’ board shorts and sports bra, “I thought you, of all centaurs, would remember running behind me.” She smirked, boldly teasing her friend.
Pallas reared back, but smiled playfully, “Oh ho? A few years with the humans and you consider yourself above your herd, now?” He taunted, jokingly offending her by nearly calling her ‘human’.
Kieve laughed raucously while Sean scoffed, “Alright, Pallas, you want a trial?” she enticed, removing her quiver and bow strapped diagonally across her chest.
Pallas smiled and did the same, “Kieve, you judge.”
Sean and Pallas both lowered their bodies, ready for trial combat while Kieve whinnied nervously, “Sabriel, Pallas – this is beneath you.”
“First to fall?” Pallas asked, grinning.
Sean smiled at his excited, yet restrained centaurian emotions coursing into her. “Done.” Kieve pleaded with them a second time, but his request fell on deaf ears as both higher-ranking Warrior centaurs engaged in trial combat. Within a few moments, Pallas lost the footing of his front hooves and toppled over, giving Sean the victory.
She bent down beside him and helped him back to his hooves while he smiled at her, pleased with the outcome. “It is good to see you as one of us again, Sabriel.”
“I am always one of you, Pallas,” Sean reminded him, “in the valley or apart.” Pallas nodded to her, and she pushed herself down into her animagus form as they once again continued towards the centaur valley they shared as home. Sean had been surprised at how easy everything had come back to her, as if she had never left… It was like the centaur valley was some pure, untouchable chamber in her heart that only beat when called upon to do so, and she could feel it pumping centaurian blood through her wolfish veins now.
The only real difficulty came in reminding Sabriel that she really was a human named Sean, something they both found difficult. True, Sean had been more prepared this time around – packing appropriate attire and important mementos to keep her human identity in harmony with her centaurian one, but it was a task easier said than done. Humans and centaurs are natural adversaries, and to force herself to remain both at the same time was exhausting and often painful. She was, of course, still Sabriel to her father and herd, but was constantly reminding herself that she was also Sean somewhere far away. The easiest way to unite these two pieces of her soul, she found, was by remembering Teddy. He could be her foal and her son at once, and his memory never seemed to drown in the reservation of centaurian emotions. The other humans she cared about, however, were much more easily forgotten, and she had to remind herself daily who Hermione, George, and Ron were amongst her centaurian brethren. If only they were closer she might be able to unite the division of her soul… but, as it is, they were not.
She continued to run through the Forest, though much more paced this time so Pallas and Kieve would not get left behind in her wake. They were coming upon the valley now, the oak trees becoming broader and taller as the Forest thickened, when Sean felt something splash beneath her paws and onto her abdomen. She stopped and turned back, her nose to the Forest floor as she sniffed the ground ferociously for a hint as to what she had traipsed through. She knew it was not a stream or puddle by the warmth that she felt from where the liquid had splashed upon her, and she continued to go over her own tracks as Kieve and Pallas came upon her.
“What is it, Sabriel?” Pallas asked darkly, his keen centaurian senses alerting him to her confusion.
Sean pulled herself up and away from the ground, back out of her animagus, “Something is not right, the woods have been tainted here.” She spoke quietly as she looked down at her front to see her body stained with a glistening, sliver liquid, then continued to follow her paw prints further away from the valley. Finally, she came across a large pool of the silver fluid, somehow sparkling in the darkness of evening, “Kieve, Pallas – go get Ronan and the others.” She didn’t turn, but heard their hurried hoof-steps gallop away towards the valley.
Carefully and silently, Sean surveyed the surrounding area and found more, smaller pools of the silver leading off the path they had come, and she pulled an arrow from her quiver and placed it on the ground to point it in the direction she would follow the silver pools. Sean moved deftly though the darkening wood, the pools of the liquid now growing larger as she leapt over a fallen tree trunk and into a small clearing of forest. There, on the other side of the clearing, was a snow-white lump of a body, and Sean drew an arrow from her quiver and her readied her bow as she approached carefully. She moved quickly and quietly towards the body, the only sound coming from the gusts of wind that stirred the fallen leaves she created with her stealth-like movements.
Now, upon the body, Sean crept up noiselessly behind it and waited for any sounds or movements to alert her. Without any warnings of danger, she spun in front of the body onto her knees and aimed her bow at any villains who may be lurking about the area. After surveying the clearing once again, Sean lowered her bow and began to examine the body that lay before her – the recently deceased unicorn. “Dear friend, who has done this to you?” she whispered as she inspected the corpse, still radiating heat from its recent demise. There was silver blood everywhere, but only in shallow pools – which meant that a good portion of this unicorn’s blood was unaccounted for… A crunch of dead leaves sent off sirens in her head and Sean’s bow and arrow practically flew into her hands as she aimed for the position of the disturbance, sighing thankfully to see her father standing at the entrance to the clearing with five other Warriors behind him.
Sean lowered her bow and replaced the arrow in her quiver as she stood and approached him, “A unicorn has been slain, father.”
Ronan sighed heavily as he stepped into the clearing, followed by Bane, Pallas, Arell, Kieve and Orn. “When?”
“Within the last hour. Most of its blood is missing.” Sean admitted as the other centaurs moved to look over the wretched sight.
“Someone has been drinking unicorn blood in our Forest again.” Ronan spoke, his voice quiet yet full of righteous anger. “Mars has aligned with Mercury to mark this tragedy – a Darkness is growing ever closer to our home.”
Bane hoofed the ground furiously, “What do you command, Ronan?”
Ronan turned to Sean, “Your magic, daughter.”
Sean nodded and swung her quiver off her shoulder, bringing it around her back to sit it on the ground as she knelt. Pushing the numerous arrows aside, Sean grasped for her wand and moved beside the unicorn body once more. She pressed her eyelids tightly together as she asked her wand to do magic for which she did not know a spell, and she saw a blue light glow though her eyes remained shut. Opening her eyes, Sean sighed deeply as the unicorn ashes settled sadly on the Forest floor – all remains destroyed so they could not be put to evil’s use. She stood and nodded to Ronan, who returned the gesture before turning and leading the Warriors out of the clearing.
Transfiguring back into her animagus, Sean jogged slightly to take her place behind Bane, the third ranking Warrior centaur. They moved swiftly through the forest and finally under the two expansive oak trees that barred the centaur valley from the rest of the wood, when the Warriors dispersed and Orn came up beside Sean, “Sister, what does this mean?”
“I am not sure, brother,” Sean admitted as she transfigured into human form, turning her head up to the starry sky, “but I fear the hunter Orion growing brighter as Mars continues to wreak havoc upon us.”
Orn, her palomino brother, turned his head towards the canopy of the valley, “Why do you fear the hunter, sister?”
Sean sighed heavily, “I fear for whom he hunts.”
* * * * * *
“Be safe, my daughter.” Ronan warned, his blue eyes swimming with pride and concern.
“I will return before the sunrise.” Sean stated with a nod, and she felt the familiar tug of transfiguration as she leapt through the oak trees and into the unforgiving Forest. It had been only a few days since they had found the body of the unicorn, and the Guardians had decided the herd of foal unicorns must be warned for the sake of the entire Forest. Sean had volunteered to go, the fastest and most agile of her herd whilst in her animagus form, and the most easily trusted by unicorns since she was a woman. She bounded through the trees, the darkness of night veiling her black body perfectly as she ran towards unicorn territory past the Black Lake.
She let her mind wander as she ran, the question of her pelage still running through her head. Why had her fur turned black? Sure, her hair had turned black – seemingly on its own – but she had always been a true gray wolf… why was she now black? It was completely absurd… why would her abilities as a Metamorphmagus affect her animagus? True, they were both Transfigurations but –
Sean stumbled to the ground, howling in pain. Something had attacked her! Something had bitten her! She continued to howl in agony as she looked to her right front paw, and saw a giant set of jaws wrapped around her leg. It looked like a bear trap, with great metal teeth sinking further and further into her skin, muscle, and bone as she writhed on the ground, whimpering as her blood soaked into her fur. Sean howled again, praying her father might hear her in their valley so far away… she had almost made it to the Black Lake, she could hear the water rippling so closely by…
She howled again as her vision began to blur – she was losing too much blood… she was going to die right here on the floor of the Forbidden Forest… they would only find a great, black wolf… she, Sean, would be missing forever… She pushed with all her might to try and Transfigure out of her animagus, but all it did was further propel her suffering. Sean whimpered helplessly as images of Teddy flashed in her mind, her howl still echoing deep within the Forest. Or was it her echo? It sounded louder now, and more of a ‘bark’ than anything else… she slipped out of consciousness before she ever found out.
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The frozen leaves that littered the Forest floor shattered angrily beneath her paws as she darted in between the naked trees, running steadily towards the valley she called home. Two members of her herd ran just behind her, trying to keep pace with the gray wolf that was now just a black blur dashing through the wood. “Sabriel!” she heard Kieve call from behind, and she spun around in her tracks to wait for both him and their other companion. The chestnut centaur slowed down as he approached, “Sabriel, you forget your size – we are not all as small and swift as you.”
A second, bay centaur came up beside them, laughing through his huffs for air, “How easily I have forgotten how fast you are, Sabriel.”
Sean pulled herself out of her animagus, the bitter frost stinging her naked skin where she just previously had black fur. She rubbed her pixie-short, black hair to loosen any Forest debris that may have gotten caught, and wiped off her khaki boys’ board shorts and sports bra, “I thought you, of all centaurs, would remember running behind me.” She smirked, boldly teasing her friend.
Pallas reared back, but smiled playfully, “Oh ho? A few years with the humans and you consider yourself above your herd, now?” He taunted, jokingly offending her by nearly calling her ‘human’.
Kieve laughed raucously while Sean scoffed, “Alright, Pallas, you want a trial?” she enticed, removing her quiver and bow strapped diagonally across her chest.
Pallas smiled and did the same, “Kieve, you judge.”
Sean and Pallas both lowered their bodies, ready for trial combat while Kieve whinnied nervously, “Sabriel, Pallas – this is beneath you.”
“First to fall?” Pallas asked, grinning.
Sean smiled at his excited, yet restrained centaurian emotions coursing into her. “Done.” Kieve pleaded with them a second time, but his request fell on deaf ears as both higher-ranking Warrior centaurs engaged in trial combat. Within a few moments, Pallas lost the footing of his front hooves and toppled over, giving Sean the victory.
She bent down beside him and helped him back to his hooves while he smiled at her, pleased with the outcome. “It is good to see you as one of us again, Sabriel.”
“I am always one of you, Pallas,” Sean reminded him, “in the valley or apart.” Pallas nodded to her, and she pushed herself down into her animagus form as they once again continued towards the centaur valley they shared as home. Sean had been surprised at how easy everything had come back to her, as if she had never left… It was like the centaur valley was some pure, untouchable chamber in her heart that only beat when called upon to do so, and she could feel it pumping centaurian blood through her wolfish veins now.
The only real difficulty came in reminding Sabriel that she really was a human named Sean, something they both found difficult. True, Sean had been more prepared this time around – packing appropriate attire and important mementos to keep her human identity in harmony with her centaurian one, but it was a task easier said than done. Humans and centaurs are natural adversaries, and to force herself to remain both at the same time was exhausting and often painful. She was, of course, still Sabriel to her father and herd, but was constantly reminding herself that she was also Sean somewhere far away. The easiest way to unite these two pieces of her soul, she found, was by remembering Teddy. He could be her foal and her son at once, and his memory never seemed to drown in the reservation of centaurian emotions. The other humans she cared about, however, were much more easily forgotten, and she had to remind herself daily who Hermione, George, and Ron were amongst her centaurian brethren. If only they were closer she might be able to unite the division of her soul… but, as it is, they were not.
She continued to run through the Forest, though much more paced this time so Pallas and Kieve would not get left behind in her wake. They were coming upon the valley now, the oak trees becoming broader and taller as the Forest thickened, when Sean felt something splash beneath her paws and onto her abdomen. She stopped and turned back, her nose to the Forest floor as she sniffed the ground ferociously for a hint as to what she had traipsed through. She knew it was not a stream or puddle by the warmth that she felt from where the liquid had splashed upon her, and she continued to go over her own tracks as Kieve and Pallas came upon her.
“What is it, Sabriel?” Pallas asked darkly, his keen centaurian senses alerting him to her confusion.
Sean pulled herself up and away from the ground, back out of her animagus, “Something is not right, the woods have been tainted here.” She spoke quietly as she looked down at her front to see her body stained with a glistening, sliver liquid, then continued to follow her paw prints further away from the valley. Finally, she came across a large pool of the silver fluid, somehow sparkling in the darkness of evening, “Kieve, Pallas – go get Ronan and the others.” She didn’t turn, but heard their hurried hoof-steps gallop away towards the valley.
Carefully and silently, Sean surveyed the surrounding area and found more, smaller pools of the silver leading off the path they had come, and she pulled an arrow from her quiver and placed it on the ground to point it in the direction she would follow the silver pools. Sean moved deftly though the darkening wood, the pools of the liquid now growing larger as she leapt over a fallen tree trunk and into a small clearing of forest. There, on the other side of the clearing, was a snow-white lump of a body, and Sean drew an arrow from her quiver and her readied her bow as she approached carefully. She moved quickly and quietly towards the body, the only sound coming from the gusts of wind that stirred the fallen leaves she created with her stealth-like movements.
Now, upon the body, Sean crept up noiselessly behind it and waited for any sounds or movements to alert her. Without any warnings of danger, she spun in front of the body onto her knees and aimed her bow at any villains who may be lurking about the area. After surveying the clearing once again, Sean lowered her bow and began to examine the body that lay before her – the recently deceased unicorn. “Dear friend, who has done this to you?” she whispered as she inspected the corpse, still radiating heat from its recent demise. There was silver blood everywhere, but only in shallow pools – which meant that a good portion of this unicorn’s blood was unaccounted for… A crunch of dead leaves sent off sirens in her head and Sean’s bow and arrow practically flew into her hands as she aimed for the position of the disturbance, sighing thankfully to see her father standing at the entrance to the clearing with five other Warriors behind him.
Sean lowered her bow and replaced the arrow in her quiver as she stood and approached him, “A unicorn has been slain, father.”
Ronan sighed heavily as he stepped into the clearing, followed by Bane, Pallas, Arell, Kieve and Orn. “When?”
“Within the last hour. Most of its blood is missing.” Sean admitted as the other centaurs moved to look over the wretched sight.
“Someone has been drinking unicorn blood in our Forest again.” Ronan spoke, his voice quiet yet full of righteous anger. “Mars has aligned with Mercury to mark this tragedy – a Darkness is growing ever closer to our home.”
Bane hoofed the ground furiously, “What do you command, Ronan?”
Ronan turned to Sean, “Your magic, daughter.”
Sean nodded and swung her quiver off her shoulder, bringing it around her back to sit it on the ground as she knelt. Pushing the numerous arrows aside, Sean grasped for her wand and moved beside the unicorn body once more. She pressed her eyelids tightly together as she asked her wand to do magic for which she did not know a spell, and she saw a blue light glow though her eyes remained shut. Opening her eyes, Sean sighed deeply as the unicorn ashes settled sadly on the Forest floor – all remains destroyed so they could not be put to evil’s use. She stood and nodded to Ronan, who returned the gesture before turning and leading the Warriors out of the clearing.
Transfiguring back into her animagus, Sean jogged slightly to take her place behind Bane, the third ranking Warrior centaur. They moved swiftly through the forest and finally under the two expansive oak trees that barred the centaur valley from the rest of the wood, when the Warriors dispersed and Orn came up beside Sean, “Sister, what does this mean?”
“I am not sure, brother,” Sean admitted as she transfigured into human form, turning her head up to the starry sky, “but I fear the hunter Orion growing brighter as Mars continues to wreak havoc upon us.”
Orn, her palomino brother, turned his head towards the canopy of the valley, “Why do you fear the hunter, sister?”
Sean sighed heavily, “I fear for whom he hunts.”
* * * * * *
“Be safe, my daughter.” Ronan warned, his blue eyes swimming with pride and concern.
“I will return before the sunrise.” Sean stated with a nod, and she felt the familiar tug of transfiguration as she leapt through the oak trees and into the unforgiving Forest. It had been only a few days since they had found the body of the unicorn, and the Guardians had decided the herd of foal unicorns must be warned for the sake of the entire Forest. Sean had volunteered to go, the fastest and most agile of her herd whilst in her animagus form, and the most easily trusted by unicorns since she was a woman. She bounded through the trees, the darkness of night veiling her black body perfectly as she ran towards unicorn territory past the Black Lake.
She let her mind wander as she ran, the question of her pelage still running through her head. Why had her fur turned black? Sure, her hair had turned black – seemingly on its own – but she had always been a true gray wolf… why was she now black? It was completely absurd… why would her abilities as a Metamorphmagus affect her animagus? True, they were both Transfigurations but –
Sean stumbled to the ground, howling in pain. Something had attacked her! Something had bitten her! She continued to howl in agony as she looked to her right front paw, and saw a giant set of jaws wrapped around her leg. It looked like a bear trap, with great metal teeth sinking further and further into her skin, muscle, and bone as she writhed on the ground, whimpering as her blood soaked into her fur. Sean howled again, praying her father might hear her in their valley so far away… she had almost made it to the Black Lake, she could hear the water rippling so closely by…
She howled again as her vision began to blur – she was losing too much blood… she was going to die right here on the floor of the Forbidden Forest… they would only find a great, black wolf… she, Sean, would be missing forever… She pushed with all her might to try and Transfigure out of her animagus, but all it did was further propel her suffering. Sean whimpered helplessly as images of Teddy flashed in her mind, her howl still echoing deep within the Forest. Or was it her echo? It sounded louder now, and more of a ‘bark’ than anything else… she slipped out of consciousness before she ever found out.
Please-please-please review! Thank you!
A/N: I have no excuse for the extreme delay in this chapter... but I can tell you that fourteen has already been completed, fifteen is on its way, and I am doing my best to finish this fic before the end of summer!
Thirteen: Return and Rendezvous
There was a tingling sensation in his hands that felt like tiny needle pricks over and over, and he couldn’t seem to remember when it began. The sound of grinding gravel and dirt beneath his feet sounded louder than he remembered, and he allowed his brain to succumb to the noise and drown out his anxious thoughts. Crunch, crunch, crunch. He let his head fall downwards to watch as the dust of the road drifted upward, slowly coating the bottom of his pants in sandy-colored dirt. He sighed heavily and slid his hands into the pockets of his worn corduroys; coughing abruptly afterwards as he accidentally inhaled some of the Hogsmeade dust.
His companion raised an eyebrow as he glanced to him, as if to show wary concern. As his coughing spell wore down he nodded to his partner to indicate his well-being, and they both turned their heads away and continued to trudge up the high street.
The turrets of the castle loomed in the distance, more foreboding than he ever remembered. There were memories in that castle - albeit many were not very good - though some spark of defiant happiness remained yet. It was strange how even now, after all the tragedy that had occurred in the Hogwarts Castle, he could only recall its joys and wonders those many years ago; the Gryffindor common room, the Quidditch Pitch, the Great Hall, the Room of Requirement… He would have to make time to revisit these places – he must make time... “So Weasley, what time is our appointment with the Headmistress again?” he asked in a deep, gravelly voice.
His partner sighed in exasperation, “Honestly, Savage, you really have to keep better schedules.” Weasley stuffed his hands in the pockets of his open jacket and took a deep breath of the frosty air, “We’re meeting Headmistress McGonagall at five; before the students begin their dinner.”
“And when do you propose we take a look around the grounds and inspect the castle?” he posed, successfully hiding the excitement in his voice - this was not his first mission in disguise, after all.
Weasley shrugged, then pushed his pockets together to close his jacket after a sudden gust of cold wind, “Suppose we could check out the grounds tonight, begin with the castle in the morning.” He nodded in satisfaction, then Weasley continued, “Also, there’s an old friend of mine who works as the groundskeeper; I was thinking we could pay him a visit and see if he has any information that may be beneficial to us.”
It was hard to conceal his smirk when Weasley said ‘beneficial’ - it was so professional-sounding, and, well, out of character for him. “Sounds fine to me. It’s good that you have a personal contact here for informational purposes, but just remember that we’re here on business.” He allowed a hint of patronization in his voice, since he had the role of senior Auror.
Weasley laughed gruffly, “I’m not a rookie, Savage, I know.”
The man called Savage grinned, “Yeah, I know, Weasley.”
* * * * * *
His ears still rang from the booming chatter of the Great Hall he just passed with his partner. “Merlin’s beard, I don’t remember it being that loud.” Weasley mumbled, somewhat to himself.
The man called Savage smiled, “Sensitivity to noise is a sign of age, Weasley, you’ll get used to it.”
At this, Weasley grumbled under his breath and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets as they stepped out of the warmth of the castle and into the now-bitter cold evening air. The silence continued as the shuffle of their feet and gnash of grass beneath grew louder with each step, and the man called Savage put his left hand into his coat to retrieve a small whiskey flask.
The moonlight glinted off the ornate silver of the flask onto Weasley’s face as he took a swig, “Drinking on the job, partner?” He put a twinge on the last word, emphasizing his current disdain for their arrangement.
The man called Savage grunted, “When you’ve been on the job as long as I have, you’ll understand.” His somber tone seemed to satisfy his partner, and they continued on the grounds in stubborn silence.
A green glow suddenly began upon the grounds as the men turned the corner of one of the castle towers, illuminating their faces and growing stronger as they approached what he knew were the Hogwarts greenhouses. He couldn’t help but scowl at the great glass buildings with contempt for their keeper, and he could feel Weasley doing the same beside him. Weasley coughed uncomfortably, “Those are the greenhou—“
“I remember; I’m old, not daft.” Savage’s weathered voice grumbled shortly.
“Er, right… well, I figure we can come back to them after we talk to Hagrid, the groundskeeper.” Weasley made no apology, but shrugged his shoulders and turned to face the small, dark mass in the distance as the green light began to fade from direct vision.
Moving closer to their destination, the man called Savage found himself staring at the groundskeeper’s hut with surprising determination. He could almost imagine the smoke rising from the chimney as its owner completed a fresh batch of rock cakes, or the raucous laughter they used to share that always seemed to fill his soul… Now, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had visited the groundskeeper, and shame and guilt hit him like a slap of cold water on the face. How had he let everything else get so big – so important? He had alienated everyone that ever cared about him, and for what? Ah yes, he remembered – for his own, selfish, ridiculous nonsense. What was so bad about letting them help you? You were in a bad place and they wanted to be there for you, but you just couldn’t let them, could you? They loved you, you idiot; they would still love you… she would st—
Thump, thump, thump. The sound of Weasley’s knuckles on the door of the great, small hut pulled him out of his own mind and back to their task at hand. Both men waited for a few moments, Weasley almost dancing back and forth as he struggled to keep himself warm. The man called Savage smiled behind his partner’s back, who retrieved his fist from his pocket once more to pound on the door. THUD, THUD, THUD. “Hagrid, you there? It’s me, Ron – Ron Weasley. I sent you a post… said I’d be coming…” Weasley glanced back at this last statement, making sure the man called Savage heard in case he felt like making some new patronizing remark. Weasley sighed heavily, “Probably dozed off after dinner…” he mumbled over his shoulder, and he knocked a third time. POUND, POUND, POUND. “Ha-grid! Ha-grid! It’s Ron! C’mon mate, open the bloody door!”
Sighing to himself, the man called Savage turned to face the castle. He began to go over his ‘to do’ list once they returned to their inn at Hogsmeade; talk to Aberforth, pay Aberforth, make another batch, phone Kings— “AH!” The man called Savage was knocked fiercely to the ground by something heavy and furry, and he landed with a great THUMP onto his right shoulder. A forceful push on his left shoulder brought him to his back, where he could clearly see the enormous dog now pinning his shoulders to the ground.
“FANG!” he heard Weasley call a few yards away, “Fang – get off him! Fang?” Weasley’s tone changed from annoyed (and almost amused) to worried as he drew upon them, and the man called Savage knew why – this dog was not gentle, cowardly Fang… and it was baring its teeth right in his face while emitting a low, threatening growl.
“Ahm, do you know this dog, Weasley?” the man called Savage mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
“Er, no…” Weasley swallowed hard. “Here doggy, doggy, doggy…” he coaxed unconvincingly while drawing his wand slowly from his pants’ pocket. The massive black dog didn’t seem to buy it either, and remained unmoved.
“NOX!” a gruff voice called in the distance. “Nox! ’ere girl!” The voice grew louder, though the dog still would not be stirred. Finally, a large figure appeared at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, still a good distance from where the man called Savage lay beside the groundskeeper’s cottage. “Nox! Gerroff ‘im righ’ now!” The half-giant ordered, and sure enough – the dog Nox began to slowly ease off her victim.
The man called Savage scrambled to his feet while Nox’s piercing eyes remained upon him; Weasley called out to the half-giant, “Hagrid! There you are!”
“Sorry ‘bout that…” Hagrid smiled as he grapsed Weasley’s hand in a warm and welcoming handshake. “Good ter see ya, Ron.”
Weasley smiled back, “You too, Hagrid.”
“Er, do you mind calling off your dog, Mr. Hagrid?” the man called Savage asked warily, moving cautiously closer to the groundskeeper’s doorstep.
Hagrid eyed him up and down, “I ‘ready did, di’int I? She’s off ya, ain’t she? Can’ ‘spect more than tha’.” He shrugged and held out his arm to usher both Aurors inside, and followed them with Nox trailing closely behind.
“Hey Hagrid, where’s Fang?” Weasley asked as he took a seat at the immense dining table.
The room shook briefly as Hagrid followed suit and took the largest seat, “Fang passed away few months ‘go…” he wiped a tear from the corner of this beady black eyes, missing the one that came after to fall quietly upon the salt and pepper beard that covered most of his face. “His pup, Talon, is sleepin’ ‘round ‘ere somewhere…” he said with a gruff smile. As if on cue, a loud yawn came from the back of the hut and a young, grey boarhound moseyed towards the three men gathered at the table. Hagrid laughed quietly as he rubbed Talon’s head, his large hand hidden in the pup’s many wrinkles of fur. “He’s a good pup, this ‘un. ‘Bout two years old now… he ain’t good fer nothin’ but comp’ny, though…”
Weasley gulped as he glanced to the black dog a few feet away – still staring at the man called Savage unwaveringly (a fact which had not gone unnoticed by the man himself). “And this one? Is she Fang’s, too?”
Hagrid removed his hand from Talon’s head and snapped his fingers once; at this, Nox picked her hindquarters up and padded quietly to sit beside Talon (who seemed to perk up and straighten himself suddenly). “Nah, this girl I found at the edge of the Forest – near the Black Lake… caught in an animal trap and almos’ bleedin’ ter death…” The man called Savage tore his gaze away from Nox’s eyes – still boring into him – and noticed a dirtied bandage wrapped securely around one of the dog’s legs. “Talon found her when we was out walkin’ few weeks ‘go; brough’er back ‘ere and bin lookin’ after her ever since.” Hagrid smiled down at Nox, “Smar’est dog I ever ‘ad, this’un. I’m thinking she might be part wolf – you never know ‘round these parts.” He shrugged and sighed, giving Nox a quick pat on the head. “Ma’er of fact, she doesn’t seem ter like people all tha’ much, but she sure is grateful ter me… and good fer Talon – ya know, see how a trained up dog is ‘posed ter act.” He laughed shortly but heartily.
“What was an animal trap doing in the Forest? Poaching’s illegal in there…” Weasley pondered aloud.
The man called Savage let out a single, cynical laugh, “Anyone thick enough to hunt in the Forbidden Forest has bigger things to worry about than the law.”
Hagrid stared down at Nox , his brown lowered in worry. “Well, they’re worryin’ me ‘nuff, findin’ unicorn body a week…”
“Unicorn bodies?” Weasley sat up straighter in his oversized chair and folded his hands on the table, leaning in towards Hagrid.
The groundskeeper mimicked his friends’ actions and leaned his forearms on the table, causing it to creak ever-so-slightly. “Aye, found three so far, and I’m sure to be findin’ more. I don’ know a soul on earth who’d be foolish er’nuff to kill a unicorn – ‘specially a foal.” Weasley shot Savage a knowing glace, indicating the severity of this news. “At least they’ve started ter be more careful now – askin’ the centaurs fer protection – ought ter be safer.”
“Let’s hope.” The man called Savage commented darkly.
“Blimey, look at me manners! Haven’t offered ya drink er nothin’!” Hagrid quickly pushed himself up from his seat to send his chair scraping across the wooden floor. Talon yelped quietly at the sudden movement of his master, while Nox continued to glare at the man called Savage motionlessly.
As Hagrid continued to rummage through his cabinets looking for clean glasses, Weasley shifted closer to his partner and raised the back of his left hand to his mouth to muffle his voice. “Animal traps and unicorn bodies in the Forbidden Forest?” he mumbled with an eyebrow raised in knowing suspicion.
The man called Savage glanced to the groundskeeper’s back, and satisfied they were unnoticed replied, “We’ll talk to McGonagall and see if she knows anything about it first. We’ll go in the morning.”
Weasley replaced his hand as Hagrid placed a round serving tray laden with oversized glasses and a large bottle of firewhiskey in the center of the table. Both men continued to talk comfortably, like old friends do, while the man called Savage seemed to recede from their conversation. He leaned back into the large armchair, caressing the caramel leather arm rest with his fingers as his eyes drifted to the window and out into the Forest that lay just beyond. There’s something happening… it’s changing out there… the thought seemed to be drawing itself into his mind – first a single line, then a smudged outline, and finally a completed sketch with snakelike eyes haunting him menacingly.
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Thirteen: Return and Rendezvous
There was a tingling sensation in his hands that felt like tiny needle pricks over and over, and he couldn’t seem to remember when it began. The sound of grinding gravel and dirt beneath his feet sounded louder than he remembered, and he allowed his brain to succumb to the noise and drown out his anxious thoughts. Crunch, crunch, crunch. He let his head fall downwards to watch as the dust of the road drifted upward, slowly coating the bottom of his pants in sandy-colored dirt. He sighed heavily and slid his hands into the pockets of his worn corduroys; coughing abruptly afterwards as he accidentally inhaled some of the Hogsmeade dust.
His companion raised an eyebrow as he glanced to him, as if to show wary concern. As his coughing spell wore down he nodded to his partner to indicate his well-being, and they both turned their heads away and continued to trudge up the high street.
The turrets of the castle loomed in the distance, more foreboding than he ever remembered. There were memories in that castle - albeit many were not very good - though some spark of defiant happiness remained yet. It was strange how even now, after all the tragedy that had occurred in the Hogwarts Castle, he could only recall its joys and wonders those many years ago; the Gryffindor common room, the Quidditch Pitch, the Great Hall, the Room of Requirement… He would have to make time to revisit these places – he must make time... “So Weasley, what time is our appointment with the Headmistress again?” he asked in a deep, gravelly voice.
His partner sighed in exasperation, “Honestly, Savage, you really have to keep better schedules.” Weasley stuffed his hands in the pockets of his open jacket and took a deep breath of the frosty air, “We’re meeting Headmistress McGonagall at five; before the students begin their dinner.”
“And when do you propose we take a look around the grounds and inspect the castle?” he posed, successfully hiding the excitement in his voice - this was not his first mission in disguise, after all.
Weasley shrugged, then pushed his pockets together to close his jacket after a sudden gust of cold wind, “Suppose we could check out the grounds tonight, begin with the castle in the morning.” He nodded in satisfaction, then Weasley continued, “Also, there’s an old friend of mine who works as the groundskeeper; I was thinking we could pay him a visit and see if he has any information that may be beneficial to us.”
It was hard to conceal his smirk when Weasley said ‘beneficial’ - it was so professional-sounding, and, well, out of character for him. “Sounds fine to me. It’s good that you have a personal contact here for informational purposes, but just remember that we’re here on business.” He allowed a hint of patronization in his voice, since he had the role of senior Auror.
Weasley laughed gruffly, “I’m not a rookie, Savage, I know.”
The man called Savage grinned, “Yeah, I know, Weasley.”
* * * * * *
His ears still rang from the booming chatter of the Great Hall he just passed with his partner. “Merlin’s beard, I don’t remember it being that loud.” Weasley mumbled, somewhat to himself.
The man called Savage smiled, “Sensitivity to noise is a sign of age, Weasley, you’ll get used to it.”
At this, Weasley grumbled under his breath and thrust his hands into his jacket pockets as they stepped out of the warmth of the castle and into the now-bitter cold evening air. The silence continued as the shuffle of their feet and gnash of grass beneath grew louder with each step, and the man called Savage put his left hand into his coat to retrieve a small whiskey flask.
The moonlight glinted off the ornate silver of the flask onto Weasley’s face as he took a swig, “Drinking on the job, partner?” He put a twinge on the last word, emphasizing his current disdain for their arrangement.
The man called Savage grunted, “When you’ve been on the job as long as I have, you’ll understand.” His somber tone seemed to satisfy his partner, and they continued on the grounds in stubborn silence.
A green glow suddenly began upon the grounds as the men turned the corner of one of the castle towers, illuminating their faces and growing stronger as they approached what he knew were the Hogwarts greenhouses. He couldn’t help but scowl at the great glass buildings with contempt for their keeper, and he could feel Weasley doing the same beside him. Weasley coughed uncomfortably, “Those are the greenhou—“
“I remember; I’m old, not daft.” Savage’s weathered voice grumbled shortly.
“Er, right… well, I figure we can come back to them after we talk to Hagrid, the groundskeeper.” Weasley made no apology, but shrugged his shoulders and turned to face the small, dark mass in the distance as the green light began to fade from direct vision.
Moving closer to their destination, the man called Savage found himself staring at the groundskeeper’s hut with surprising determination. He could almost imagine the smoke rising from the chimney as its owner completed a fresh batch of rock cakes, or the raucous laughter they used to share that always seemed to fill his soul… Now, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had visited the groundskeeper, and shame and guilt hit him like a slap of cold water on the face. How had he let everything else get so big – so important? He had alienated everyone that ever cared about him, and for what? Ah yes, he remembered – for his own, selfish, ridiculous nonsense. What was so bad about letting them help you? You were in a bad place and they wanted to be there for you, but you just couldn’t let them, could you? They loved you, you idiot; they would still love you… she would st—
Thump, thump, thump. The sound of Weasley’s knuckles on the door of the great, small hut pulled him out of his own mind and back to their task at hand. Both men waited for a few moments, Weasley almost dancing back and forth as he struggled to keep himself warm. The man called Savage smiled behind his partner’s back, who retrieved his fist from his pocket once more to pound on the door. THUD, THUD, THUD. “Hagrid, you there? It’s me, Ron – Ron Weasley. I sent you a post… said I’d be coming…” Weasley glanced back at this last statement, making sure the man called Savage heard in case he felt like making some new patronizing remark. Weasley sighed heavily, “Probably dozed off after dinner…” he mumbled over his shoulder, and he knocked a third time. POUND, POUND, POUND. “Ha-grid! Ha-grid! It’s Ron! C’mon mate, open the bloody door!”
Sighing to himself, the man called Savage turned to face the castle. He began to go over his ‘to do’ list once they returned to their inn at Hogsmeade; talk to Aberforth, pay Aberforth, make another batch, phone Kings— “AH!” The man called Savage was knocked fiercely to the ground by something heavy and furry, and he landed with a great THUMP onto his right shoulder. A forceful push on his left shoulder brought him to his back, where he could clearly see the enormous dog now pinning his shoulders to the ground.
“FANG!” he heard Weasley call a few yards away, “Fang – get off him! Fang?” Weasley’s tone changed from annoyed (and almost amused) to worried as he drew upon them, and the man called Savage knew why – this dog was not gentle, cowardly Fang… and it was baring its teeth right in his face while emitting a low, threatening growl.
“Ahm, do you know this dog, Weasley?” the man called Savage mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
“Er, no…” Weasley swallowed hard. “Here doggy, doggy, doggy…” he coaxed unconvincingly while drawing his wand slowly from his pants’ pocket. The massive black dog didn’t seem to buy it either, and remained unmoved.
“NOX!” a gruff voice called in the distance. “Nox! ’ere girl!” The voice grew louder, though the dog still would not be stirred. Finally, a large figure appeared at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, still a good distance from where the man called Savage lay beside the groundskeeper’s cottage. “Nox! Gerroff ‘im righ’ now!” The half-giant ordered, and sure enough – the dog Nox began to slowly ease off her victim.
The man called Savage scrambled to his feet while Nox’s piercing eyes remained upon him; Weasley called out to the half-giant, “Hagrid! There you are!”
“Sorry ‘bout that…” Hagrid smiled as he grapsed Weasley’s hand in a warm and welcoming handshake. “Good ter see ya, Ron.”
Weasley smiled back, “You too, Hagrid.”
“Er, do you mind calling off your dog, Mr. Hagrid?” the man called Savage asked warily, moving cautiously closer to the groundskeeper’s doorstep.
Hagrid eyed him up and down, “I ‘ready did, di’int I? She’s off ya, ain’t she? Can’ ‘spect more than tha’.” He shrugged and held out his arm to usher both Aurors inside, and followed them with Nox trailing closely behind.
“Hey Hagrid, where’s Fang?” Weasley asked as he took a seat at the immense dining table.
The room shook briefly as Hagrid followed suit and took the largest seat, “Fang passed away few months ‘go…” he wiped a tear from the corner of this beady black eyes, missing the one that came after to fall quietly upon the salt and pepper beard that covered most of his face. “His pup, Talon, is sleepin’ ‘round ‘ere somewhere…” he said with a gruff smile. As if on cue, a loud yawn came from the back of the hut and a young, grey boarhound moseyed towards the three men gathered at the table. Hagrid laughed quietly as he rubbed Talon’s head, his large hand hidden in the pup’s many wrinkles of fur. “He’s a good pup, this ‘un. ‘Bout two years old now… he ain’t good fer nothin’ but comp’ny, though…”
Weasley gulped as he glanced to the black dog a few feet away – still staring at the man called Savage unwaveringly (a fact which had not gone unnoticed by the man himself). “And this one? Is she Fang’s, too?”
Hagrid removed his hand from Talon’s head and snapped his fingers once; at this, Nox picked her hindquarters up and padded quietly to sit beside Talon (who seemed to perk up and straighten himself suddenly). “Nah, this girl I found at the edge of the Forest – near the Black Lake… caught in an animal trap and almos’ bleedin’ ter death…” The man called Savage tore his gaze away from Nox’s eyes – still boring into him – and noticed a dirtied bandage wrapped securely around one of the dog’s legs. “Talon found her when we was out walkin’ few weeks ‘go; brough’er back ‘ere and bin lookin’ after her ever since.” Hagrid smiled down at Nox, “Smar’est dog I ever ‘ad, this’un. I’m thinking she might be part wolf – you never know ‘round these parts.” He shrugged and sighed, giving Nox a quick pat on the head. “Ma’er of fact, she doesn’t seem ter like people all tha’ much, but she sure is grateful ter me… and good fer Talon – ya know, see how a trained up dog is ‘posed ter act.” He laughed shortly but heartily.
“What was an animal trap doing in the Forest? Poaching’s illegal in there…” Weasley pondered aloud.
The man called Savage let out a single, cynical laugh, “Anyone thick enough to hunt in the Forbidden Forest has bigger things to worry about than the law.”
Hagrid stared down at Nox , his brown lowered in worry. “Well, they’re worryin’ me ‘nuff, findin’ unicorn body a week…”
“Unicorn bodies?” Weasley sat up straighter in his oversized chair and folded his hands on the table, leaning in towards Hagrid.
The groundskeeper mimicked his friends’ actions and leaned his forearms on the table, causing it to creak ever-so-slightly. “Aye, found three so far, and I’m sure to be findin’ more. I don’ know a soul on earth who’d be foolish er’nuff to kill a unicorn – ‘specially a foal.” Weasley shot Savage a knowing glace, indicating the severity of this news. “At least they’ve started ter be more careful now – askin’ the centaurs fer protection – ought ter be safer.”
“Let’s hope.” The man called Savage commented darkly.
“Blimey, look at me manners! Haven’t offered ya drink er nothin’!” Hagrid quickly pushed himself up from his seat to send his chair scraping across the wooden floor. Talon yelped quietly at the sudden movement of his master, while Nox continued to glare at the man called Savage motionlessly.
As Hagrid continued to rummage through his cabinets looking for clean glasses, Weasley shifted closer to his partner and raised the back of his left hand to his mouth to muffle his voice. “Animal traps and unicorn bodies in the Forbidden Forest?” he mumbled with an eyebrow raised in knowing suspicion.
The man called Savage glanced to the groundskeeper’s back, and satisfied they were unnoticed replied, “We’ll talk to McGonagall and see if she knows anything about it first. We’ll go in the morning.”
Weasley replaced his hand as Hagrid placed a round serving tray laden with oversized glasses and a large bottle of firewhiskey in the center of the table. Both men continued to talk comfortably, like old friends do, while the man called Savage seemed to recede from their conversation. He leaned back into the large armchair, caressing the caramel leather arm rest with his fingers as his eyes drifted to the window and out into the Forest that lay just beyond. There’s something happening… it’s changing out there… the thought seemed to be drawing itself into his mind – first a single line, then a smudged outline, and finally a completed sketch with snakelike eyes haunting him menacingly.
Reviews and a longer apology!
a/n: sorry. took me a bit to figure out why it was doing that weird no-double-space-thing. turns out i am a raging idiot. ah well. HUGE, MASSIVE thanks to ginny and steppy for their replies/reviews - thank you so much for sticking with me after all that time!!!
Fourteen: Unkelwon
He woke up suddenly with a sharp inhale, beads of cold sweat upon his temple and in between the stubble on his cheeks and chin. He hastily glanced about the room for signs of familiarity, then sighed heavily in relief and relaxed his elbows to fall back onto his temporary bed – which he realized was dampened with that same cold sweat. He shifted his gaze towards the twin bed mashed up against the opposite wall, scratching his head sleepily as he noticed his partner’s absence, and finally rising to the dawn with a loud groan.
His brain began to wander, as it often did these days, while he waved his wand over his sheets to give them a good cleaning (he figured his partner wouldn’t appreciate coming back to a room full of dried-sweat stink). This was not the first time he had this dream, probably, he assumed, because it started as a memory… He had never seen either of the girls like that – so frustrated they practically boiled with resentment and anger. Moreover, he had never heard either of them talk that way – especially to each other; he grinned, despite himself, knowing that he was never quite capable of looking at his fiancée the same after...
He crossed his arms over his bare chest as he crossed the room to the small, circular window that overlooked the street below, his breath temporarily fogging the window as he realized how cold it was for the first time that morning. He smiled sadly at the fresh blanket of snow that covered the village, unblemished save for a single set of footprints leading outside the pub towards the high street. It had been a December morning just like this when he went to talk to her a few weeks after it all happened…
The squish of wet snow beneath his heavy boots was making him feel even more nauseous, if that were possible, but he pushed his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and pressed his forearms into his body for warmth and comfort as he continued up the pathway. Suddenly, a loud creak startled him and he reached for his wand instinctively as he looked upwards towards the noise, then sighed in relief to see Andromeda Tonks leaning in the doorway of her cottage home and smiling sweetly. “I hope you don’t plan to use that on me, Ronald Weasley” she said softly, smirking now.
Ron replaced his wand and jogged the last few meters to her home before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, “Only if you’re harboring Dark wizards.”
She laughed gently as she led him into the parlor, closing the door behind him. “Does she count?” Andromeda asked with a single raised eyebrow while leading him into the kitchen.
He sighed as he removed his jacket and placed it on the coat rack before following, “Am I that transparent?”
“No, Ronald, you’re just a good friend.” Andromeda winked knowingly at him and tapped the kettle on the stove with her wand, causing it to whistle instantaneously.
“WAIN!” a small voice yelled from the back of the cottage, followed by a more mature and harried call.
“No! WAIT!”
“WAIN!” the voice was moving closer now, accompanied by the soft thudding of hurried footsteps.
“TEDDY!” the young woman called, but it was too late. Teddy Lupin and his footed pajamas left the safety of the carpet and hit the linoleum of the kitchen with full speed, causing him to howl as he slid across the room and smacked directly into the wall on the opposite side with a great “THUMP”, just barely missing the glass French doors to his right.
Another “thump” as her right hand hit the doorframe of the kitchen causing her to half-swing into the room, her long blonde hair whipping about her as she gazed wide-eyed at the little boy crumpling to the floor on the other side of the room. “Oh, Teddy…” she mumbled as she seemed to leap across the room to him.
He appeared stunned for a moment as she turned him to face her, and then his expression changed to one of sheer delight, “I fly like Superman! You see me, Sean? I FLY!”
He clapped his hands and giggled, causing her to shoulders to fall with relief. “Yeah, Teddy, I saw.” With one swift move she had him scooped up in her arms like he had never fallen a day of his three years, and sat him onto the counter in front of both herself and his grandmother. “I’m sorry, Dromeda” she sighed, exasperated as she began to inspect Teddy for injuries.
Andromeda patted her softly on the back while Ron continued to watch, leaning against the corner, “It’s okay, dear, I forgot, too.”
Teddy cocked his head to one side, confused suddenly, “No wain?”
Sean replaced her hands on either side of Teddy on the counter, locking her elbows as she tossed her hair out of her face, “No train, baby. Now, I think it’s just about your nap time.”
Teddy pursed his lips and crossed his arms angrily as his sandy blonde hair turned crimson red, “I want see unkelwon!”
Sean shrugged her shoulders, facetiously apologetic, “Sorry, squirt, but you’re not watching the telly, you’re going to take a nap.”
Ron laughed quietly to himself while Andromeda placed a gentle hand on Sean’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of Teddy, you have company.” Sean turned around quickly, noticing Ron for the first time, and he could almost feel the indignation as it washed over her face. “Come on, darling, let’s go to your room.” Andromeda suggested quietly, but Teddy was not about to leave without a fight.
He began to wail something fierce, louder and more heinous than Ron thought any three year old should be capable – yelling “UNKEL WON! UNKEL WON!” as Andromeda turned to carry him out of the kitchen. She stopped abruptly and swung around to face Sean once more, "BY THE WAY, DEAR, oh this is just ridiculous, Silencio!" Andromeda yelled, pointing her wand at her grandson's throbbing throat. Teddy's wails stopped immediately, and he looked at the authoritative visage of Andromeda, then threw his head back and balled his fists in determination and (as it appeared to Ron) proceeded to try and break the Silencing Charm by screaming with even more fury. Thankfully, however, it didn't work, "Much better. Now, darling, should Miss Ange call upon us just send her right on through."
Andromeda smiled and gave Sean a small wink of assurance, but Sean seemed rather put-off by this news, "Honestly, Dromeda, you don't need a St. Mungo's nurse checking up on you anymore - I live here! I can do anything you need... I'd be happy to..." Sean pleaded.
"You're much too young to be worrying about me. You two go on, now, I'll take care of everything in here." Andromeda smiled warmly once more, though Ron noticed the sickly pale tinge in her face as she did so. She waved them off with her free hand and resettled Teddy on her hip (who's hair - now a darker, vermillion shade of red - clashed horribly with his purpling face), and set off down the corridor.
Sean renewed her previous glare at her visitor, her mouth agape and her brows furrowed in offense while Ron shuffled his feet anxiously and waited for the right words to come to him. Sean, however, chose not to wait and scoffed loudly as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms under her chest simultaneously, then walked quickly past Ron and out of the kitchen the way she came, grabbing her coat and sliding into her snow boots before wrenching the front door open and walking out into the early December afternoon. Ron followed with a heavy sigh and equally heavy footsteps, closing the door quietly behind him and stepping back onto the pathway which had led him to her.
Replacing his hands back into his pockets once more, Ron watched Sean from a safe distance behind as she threw her right arm into her sleeve and puffs of her visibly heavy breaths rose from her silhouette. She sighed deeply, the large cloud of breath seemingly rising like smoke from her ears in anger, and Ron coughed uncomfortably before clearing his throat and opening his mouth to begin. “Why did you come?” Sean said shortly in a low undertone, cutting Ron off before he could begin.
“I’m here beca--” he managed after a brief silence, but she cut him off again.
“I know why you’re here. Why did you come?” She remained with her back to him, and from the way her hair cascaded across her jacket he could tell she was resting her head on her left shoulder, looking down at her bright green snow boots which stood in defiant contrast to the surrounding white of winter.
Ron contemplated her question, unsure of anything to say except 'huh?'. After another awkward silence, one of the many that were still to come, he decided the calmest course of conversation he could think of, “Please don’t try to Feel me; I came here to talk to you and I don’t think that’s fair.”
He stepped back suddenly, his eyes wide with shock and his hands out to stop himself from falling, as the dirty blonde color of Sean’s hair seemed to melt away into an ice blue; and as she whirled about to face him, her hair camouflaging with the snowy scene that lay beyond Andromeda’s home. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the growing redness on the apples of her cheeks and nose, she might have looked like a Veela in proud form. “I am not trying to Feel you, Weasley. I am trying to find a good reason not to curse you back to the Burrow with a particular orifice relocated to your forehead. Does that seem fair to you?!”
Sighing once more, he hung his head and let his shoulders droop. “Can we do this without resorting to violence, please?”
“That depends entirely on you.” Sean leered back, her eyes thin in suppressed anger.
Sean turned away from him once more, and Ron decided to try again. “Look… Sean… I know you know why I’m here...” he heard her scoff as a breeze began to pick up around them, making her glacial hair dance as he continued, “I think it’s pretty obvious that this is really hurting both of you, and maybe you should try to talk about it again… only this time, more like adults… and with less, ahm, colorful language.” He was holding out one hand, as if offering her peace (well, he almost was), even though she couldn’t see him. The breeze had now blown silence between them once more, and as the seconds turned into minutes he gulped nervously and drew his hand back towards the place he kept his wand concealed on his person – lest she was doing the same.
Actually, Ron couldn’t quite tell what Sean was doing at all, for she appeared to be frozen in place save for twirl of her hair in the wind. Finally, Sean took a step back and half-turned towards him, her right shoulder pointing directly at him as she leaned her chin upon it, “I said some pretty terrible things I didn’t mean, and I’ll apologize when she’s ready to hear it.”
Ron’s forced calm was immediately expunged, “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“She’s not here, is she – you are! I’ll bet Hermione doesn’t even know you’re here, does she?” Sean spat back, both indignant and triumphant at the same time.
“No.” Ron admitted softly, and he began breathing more deeply to try and slow his rising heartbeat.
He picked up his left leg and let his foot drop back down toe-first causing a small flurry of snow around his ankles, and he heard Sean laugh softly and facetiously, “Then why did you come?” She was calm now, after she had proven her point, and Ron could see her anger ebb away, leaving sadness in its wake.
“Because I’m your friend.”
The delicate quiet that had fallen evaporated suddenly as the roots of Sean’s hair turned a hot pink that washed all the way down to the tips. “Since when? If you were really my friend you would have stood up for me! Instead, you let your girlfriend berate me for agreeing to have a drink with Neville Longbottom!”
“As I recall, you seemed to be standing up for yourself just fine.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. He had never seen her like this, not even when she and Hermione had been arguing. She had been irate then, but she had also been in control… Now, she appeared to be almost inhuman, struggling between reason and emotion as she both fought and succumbed to impulse. She looked… broken… “I am your friend, Sean, which is why I have to say this… you can’t keep taking your anger with Harry out on us – it’s not fair.”
“Harry’s been my ex-boyfriend for nearly a year – I’m not mad at him anymore!” Her eyebrows were furrowed, as if she was trying to convince both of them.
Ron sighed, “Then who are you angry with?”
“You… Hermione… George… Ugh, Harry! Everyone! I have been miserable for so long and the first time I actually have a chance to return to normalcy everyone I care about becomes furious with me!” Her eyes looked glassy with prevented tears, and her chest began to heave with weighted breaths.
“You’re right, okay? Hermione didn’t handle your news well – none of us did, but you know that we care about you! You had to know that this is what was going to happen at first – you’ve known us too long!” Ron pleaded, though Sean didn’t respond. She huffed her breaths, creating white smoke around her as the afternoon wore on, and Ron continued, “I’m sorry. I know this is hard to hear – but you have to stop acting like your break-up with Harry only affected you! We were all involved in your relationship, we were all invested… Maybe that’s a little strange, but we’re kind of, well, strange...” He grinned in spite of the situation.
Sean half-fell into the snow, sticking her legs out in front of her with her feet firmly planted on the ground and her knees bent at oblique angles. She put her elbows on her knees and leaned forward to rest her head in her hands, “I know. God help me, I know – but I can’t let go… I don’t know how…”
She was sinking slowly as her body heat melted the snow beneath her, and Ron bridged the gap between them and sat beside her. “It’s alright if you still love him, you know.”
“No, it’s not! I am not weak – I can’t be weak…” her voice broke and faded into silence.
Ron spoke softly now, almost whispering, “Loving someone does not make you weak.”
Sean ran her hands through her hair, holding them at the base of her neck as she tilted her head upwards, “I should be strong enough to stop. I shouldn’t need him.” Ron couldn’t tell if she was talking to him or herself anymore.
“Sean…” He didn’t know what to say now. Ron knew that this was a rare moment; that he was seeing Sean differently than perhaps anyone had ever seen her… something both beautiful and frightening all at once.
The breeze shifted suddenly, lightly dusting them with powdery snow, and Ron could feel a change in Sean before she spoke. “You’re right.”
“What?”
Sean sniffed and rubbed the palms of her hands over her eyes once and rose quickly to her feet, while Ron was caught off-guard and struggled to gain his footing. “You’re right. I’ve been wallowing in self-pity and taking it out on all of you. I’m sorry.” She rubbed her pink-flushed nose with the back of her hand and sniffed again, “Tell Hermione I’ll call her tomorrow.” Sean wiped her backside with her hands and began to move quickly back towards to snow-covered porch.
“Sean!” Ron called, still somewhat shocked by her abrupt change in mood. She turned towards him, her movements heavy with emotional exhaustion, and he could feel the distance between them once more. Ron and Sean had never been very close, but he supposed she had probably been closer to him just now than she had been with anyone before – and would ever be again. She had changed. It wasn’t a slow progression, but a subtle yet significant decision in who she was and who she would allow herself to be… and he knew it was irrevocable. She would never be the same. Sean turned away from him and retreated back inside, her platinum blonde hair streaming behind her in the wind.
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Fourteen: Unkelwon
He woke up suddenly with a sharp inhale, beads of cold sweat upon his temple and in between the stubble on his cheeks and chin. He hastily glanced about the room for signs of familiarity, then sighed heavily in relief and relaxed his elbows to fall back onto his temporary bed – which he realized was dampened with that same cold sweat. He shifted his gaze towards the twin bed mashed up against the opposite wall, scratching his head sleepily as he noticed his partner’s absence, and finally rising to the dawn with a loud groan.
His brain began to wander, as it often did these days, while he waved his wand over his sheets to give them a good cleaning (he figured his partner wouldn’t appreciate coming back to a room full of dried-sweat stink). This was not the first time he had this dream, probably, he assumed, because it started as a memory… He had never seen either of the girls like that – so frustrated they practically boiled with resentment and anger. Moreover, he had never heard either of them talk that way – especially to each other; he grinned, despite himself, knowing that he was never quite capable of looking at his fiancée the same after...
He crossed his arms over his bare chest as he crossed the room to the small, circular window that overlooked the street below, his breath temporarily fogging the window as he realized how cold it was for the first time that morning. He smiled sadly at the fresh blanket of snow that covered the village, unblemished save for a single set of footprints leading outside the pub towards the high street. It had been a December morning just like this when he went to talk to her a few weeks after it all happened…
The squish of wet snow beneath his heavy boots was making him feel even more nauseous, if that were possible, but he pushed his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and pressed his forearms into his body for warmth and comfort as he continued up the pathway. Suddenly, a loud creak startled him and he reached for his wand instinctively as he looked upwards towards the noise, then sighed in relief to see Andromeda Tonks leaning in the doorway of her cottage home and smiling sweetly. “I hope you don’t plan to use that on me, Ronald Weasley” she said softly, smirking now.
Ron replaced his wand and jogged the last few meters to her home before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, “Only if you’re harboring Dark wizards.”
She laughed gently as she led him into the parlor, closing the door behind him. “Does she count?” Andromeda asked with a single raised eyebrow while leading him into the kitchen.
He sighed as he removed his jacket and placed it on the coat rack before following, “Am I that transparent?”
“No, Ronald, you’re just a good friend.” Andromeda winked knowingly at him and tapped the kettle on the stove with her wand, causing it to whistle instantaneously.
“WAIN!” a small voice yelled from the back of the cottage, followed by a more mature and harried call.
“No! WAIT!”
“WAIN!” the voice was moving closer now, accompanied by the soft thudding of hurried footsteps.
“TEDDY!” the young woman called, but it was too late. Teddy Lupin and his footed pajamas left the safety of the carpet and hit the linoleum of the kitchen with full speed, causing him to howl as he slid across the room and smacked directly into the wall on the opposite side with a great “THUMP”, just barely missing the glass French doors to his right.
Another “thump” as her right hand hit the doorframe of the kitchen causing her to half-swing into the room, her long blonde hair whipping about her as she gazed wide-eyed at the little boy crumpling to the floor on the other side of the room. “Oh, Teddy…” she mumbled as she seemed to leap across the room to him.
He appeared stunned for a moment as she turned him to face her, and then his expression changed to one of sheer delight, “I fly like Superman! You see me, Sean? I FLY!”
He clapped his hands and giggled, causing her to shoulders to fall with relief. “Yeah, Teddy, I saw.” With one swift move she had him scooped up in her arms like he had never fallen a day of his three years, and sat him onto the counter in front of both herself and his grandmother. “I’m sorry, Dromeda” she sighed, exasperated as she began to inspect Teddy for injuries.
Andromeda patted her softly on the back while Ron continued to watch, leaning against the corner, “It’s okay, dear, I forgot, too.”
Teddy cocked his head to one side, confused suddenly, “No wain?”
Sean replaced her hands on either side of Teddy on the counter, locking her elbows as she tossed her hair out of her face, “No train, baby. Now, I think it’s just about your nap time.”
Teddy pursed his lips and crossed his arms angrily as his sandy blonde hair turned crimson red, “I want see unkelwon!”
Sean shrugged her shoulders, facetiously apologetic, “Sorry, squirt, but you’re not watching the telly, you’re going to take a nap.”
Ron laughed quietly to himself while Andromeda placed a gentle hand on Sean’s shoulder, “I’ll take care of Teddy, you have company.” Sean turned around quickly, noticing Ron for the first time, and he could almost feel the indignation as it washed over her face. “Come on, darling, let’s go to your room.” Andromeda suggested quietly, but Teddy was not about to leave without a fight.
He began to wail something fierce, louder and more heinous than Ron thought any three year old should be capable – yelling “UNKEL WON! UNKEL WON!” as Andromeda turned to carry him out of the kitchen. She stopped abruptly and swung around to face Sean once more, "BY THE WAY, DEAR, oh this is just ridiculous, Silencio!" Andromeda yelled, pointing her wand at her grandson's throbbing throat. Teddy's wails stopped immediately, and he looked at the authoritative visage of Andromeda, then threw his head back and balled his fists in determination and (as it appeared to Ron) proceeded to try and break the Silencing Charm by screaming with even more fury. Thankfully, however, it didn't work, "Much better. Now, darling, should Miss Ange call upon us just send her right on through."
Andromeda smiled and gave Sean a small wink of assurance, but Sean seemed rather put-off by this news, "Honestly, Dromeda, you don't need a St. Mungo's nurse checking up on you anymore - I live here! I can do anything you need... I'd be happy to..." Sean pleaded.
"You're much too young to be worrying about me. You two go on, now, I'll take care of everything in here." Andromeda smiled warmly once more, though Ron noticed the sickly pale tinge in her face as she did so. She waved them off with her free hand and resettled Teddy on her hip (who's hair - now a darker, vermillion shade of red - clashed horribly with his purpling face), and set off down the corridor.
Sean renewed her previous glare at her visitor, her mouth agape and her brows furrowed in offense while Ron shuffled his feet anxiously and waited for the right words to come to him. Sean, however, chose not to wait and scoffed loudly as she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms under her chest simultaneously, then walked quickly past Ron and out of the kitchen the way she came, grabbing her coat and sliding into her snow boots before wrenching the front door open and walking out into the early December afternoon. Ron followed with a heavy sigh and equally heavy footsteps, closing the door quietly behind him and stepping back onto the pathway which had led him to her.
Replacing his hands back into his pockets once more, Ron watched Sean from a safe distance behind as she threw her right arm into her sleeve and puffs of her visibly heavy breaths rose from her silhouette. She sighed deeply, the large cloud of breath seemingly rising like smoke from her ears in anger, and Ron coughed uncomfortably before clearing his throat and opening his mouth to begin. “Why did you come?” Sean said shortly in a low undertone, cutting Ron off before he could begin.
“I’m here beca--” he managed after a brief silence, but she cut him off again.
“I know why you’re here. Why did you come?” She remained with her back to him, and from the way her hair cascaded across her jacket he could tell she was resting her head on her left shoulder, looking down at her bright green snow boots which stood in defiant contrast to the surrounding white of winter.
Ron contemplated her question, unsure of anything to say except 'huh?'. After another awkward silence, one of the many that were still to come, he decided the calmest course of conversation he could think of, “Please don’t try to Feel me; I came here to talk to you and I don’t think that’s fair.”
He stepped back suddenly, his eyes wide with shock and his hands out to stop himself from falling, as the dirty blonde color of Sean’s hair seemed to melt away into an ice blue; and as she whirled about to face him, her hair camouflaging with the snowy scene that lay beyond Andromeda’s home. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the growing redness on the apples of her cheeks and nose, she might have looked like a Veela in proud form. “I am not trying to Feel you, Weasley. I am trying to find a good reason not to curse you back to the Burrow with a particular orifice relocated to your forehead. Does that seem fair to you?!”
Sighing once more, he hung his head and let his shoulders droop. “Can we do this without resorting to violence, please?”
“That depends entirely on you.” Sean leered back, her eyes thin in suppressed anger.
Sean turned away from him once more, and Ron decided to try again. “Look… Sean… I know you know why I’m here...” he heard her scoff as a breeze began to pick up around them, making her glacial hair dance as he continued, “I think it’s pretty obvious that this is really hurting both of you, and maybe you should try to talk about it again… only this time, more like adults… and with less, ahm, colorful language.” He was holding out one hand, as if offering her peace (well, he almost was), even though she couldn’t see him. The breeze had now blown silence between them once more, and as the seconds turned into minutes he gulped nervously and drew his hand back towards the place he kept his wand concealed on his person – lest she was doing the same.
Actually, Ron couldn’t quite tell what Sean was doing at all, for she appeared to be frozen in place save for twirl of her hair in the wind. Finally, Sean took a step back and half-turned towards him, her right shoulder pointing directly at him as she leaned her chin upon it, “I said some pretty terrible things I didn’t mean, and I’ll apologize when she’s ready to hear it.”
Ron’s forced calm was immediately expunged, “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“She’s not here, is she – you are! I’ll bet Hermione doesn’t even know you’re here, does she?” Sean spat back, both indignant and triumphant at the same time.
“No.” Ron admitted softly, and he began breathing more deeply to try and slow his rising heartbeat.
He picked up his left leg and let his foot drop back down toe-first causing a small flurry of snow around his ankles, and he heard Sean laugh softly and facetiously, “Then why did you come?” She was calm now, after she had proven her point, and Ron could see her anger ebb away, leaving sadness in its wake.
“Because I’m your friend.”
The delicate quiet that had fallen evaporated suddenly as the roots of Sean’s hair turned a hot pink that washed all the way down to the tips. “Since when? If you were really my friend you would have stood up for me! Instead, you let your girlfriend berate me for agreeing to have a drink with Neville Longbottom!”
“As I recall, you seemed to be standing up for yourself just fine.” He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. He had never seen her like this, not even when she and Hermione had been arguing. She had been irate then, but she had also been in control… Now, she appeared to be almost inhuman, struggling between reason and emotion as she both fought and succumbed to impulse. She looked… broken… “I am your friend, Sean, which is why I have to say this… you can’t keep taking your anger with Harry out on us – it’s not fair.”
“Harry’s been my ex-boyfriend for nearly a year – I’m not mad at him anymore!” Her eyebrows were furrowed, as if she was trying to convince both of them.
Ron sighed, “Then who are you angry with?”
“You… Hermione… George… Ugh, Harry! Everyone! I have been miserable for so long and the first time I actually have a chance to return to normalcy everyone I care about becomes furious with me!” Her eyes looked glassy with prevented tears, and her chest began to heave with weighted breaths.
“You’re right, okay? Hermione didn’t handle your news well – none of us did, but you know that we care about you! You had to know that this is what was going to happen at first – you’ve known us too long!” Ron pleaded, though Sean didn’t respond. She huffed her breaths, creating white smoke around her as the afternoon wore on, and Ron continued, “I’m sorry. I know this is hard to hear – but you have to stop acting like your break-up with Harry only affected you! We were all involved in your relationship, we were all invested… Maybe that’s a little strange, but we’re kind of, well, strange...” He grinned in spite of the situation.
Sean half-fell into the snow, sticking her legs out in front of her with her feet firmly planted on the ground and her knees bent at oblique angles. She put her elbows on her knees and leaned forward to rest her head in her hands, “I know. God help me, I know – but I can’t let go… I don’t know how…”
She was sinking slowly as her body heat melted the snow beneath her, and Ron bridged the gap between them and sat beside her. “It’s alright if you still love him, you know.”
“No, it’s not! I am not weak – I can’t be weak…” her voice broke and faded into silence.
Ron spoke softly now, almost whispering, “Loving someone does not make you weak.”
Sean ran her hands through her hair, holding them at the base of her neck as she tilted her head upwards, “I should be strong enough to stop. I shouldn’t need him.” Ron couldn’t tell if she was talking to him or herself anymore.
“Sean…” He didn’t know what to say now. Ron knew that this was a rare moment; that he was seeing Sean differently than perhaps anyone had ever seen her… something both beautiful and frightening all at once.
The breeze shifted suddenly, lightly dusting them with powdery snow, and Ron could feel a change in Sean before she spoke. “You’re right.”
“What?”
Sean sniffed and rubbed the palms of her hands over her eyes once and rose quickly to her feet, while Ron was caught off-guard and struggled to gain his footing. “You’re right. I’ve been wallowing in self-pity and taking it out on all of you. I’m sorry.” She rubbed her pink-flushed nose with the back of her hand and sniffed again, “Tell Hermione I’ll call her tomorrow.” Sean wiped her backside with her hands and began to move quickly back towards to snow-covered porch.
“Sean!” Ron called, still somewhat shocked by her abrupt change in mood. She turned towards him, her movements heavy with emotional exhaustion, and he could feel the distance between them once more. Ron and Sean had never been very close, but he supposed she had probably been closer to him just now than she had been with anyone before – and would ever be again. She had changed. It wasn’t a slow progression, but a subtle yet significant decision in who she was and who she would allow herself to be… and he knew it was irrevocable. She would never be the same. Sean turned away from him and retreated back inside, her platinum blonde hair streaming behind her in the wind.
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a/n: thanks so much to bd and cg for your reviews, and i'm looking forward to yours, too, steppy! there's not too much to say, except i love this chapter and i'm hoping you do as well!
Fifteen: Father Figure
It doesn’t make any sense, he repeated to himself as he trudged up the high street, bitter cold wind stinging his eyes until they began to water, and he realized how much he missed his glasses. Unicorns found dead, the “attack” in London, erratic behavior by a Hogwarts staff member, muggle traps in the forest… none of it made any sense! Each event appeared to be isolated incidents, but they all happened in such close succession to one another that they had to be related. Also, everything seemed to be centered around Sean Kiernan with the exception of the unicorn attacks… The unicorn attacks, bloody hell!
The man called Savage turned off the high street, his footprints digging farther into the snow as he stepped with heavier conviction (it was a testament to his training and experience that he didn’t break into a sprint). He began the descent towards Hogwarts Castle, his brain throbbing in time with his heartbeat as his mind raced… What did Hagrid say? When was the first body found? How long ago did Sean go into hiding? How could he get in contact with her? Would Teddy still be safe? Everything had been loosely tied together until recently… just a chain of coincidental incidents… but if someone knew about Sabriel… Only four other people knew about Sean’s second life among the centaur herd, and he didn’t think Hermione, Ron, or George were capable of corruption… but Firenze… Longbottom has had plenty of time at the Castle with Firenze – plenty of time to coerce him… drug him… Imperious him. His mind wandered back to the Hog’s Head for a fleeting moment, wondering if he should grab his “partner”… No, he told himself, if Ron came along he would certainly be able to tell I know too much about Sean’s private life than a typical Auror – even Savage.
Why hadn’t they thought to talk to Firenze? The thought was maddening, and as he let his head fall he couldn’t help but feel like the past week at his alma mater had been a complete waste of time. In fact, the best information they had received since their arrival was from Hagrid – McGonagall was fairly reserved about giving up information (which was expected), and their observations of the other professors (namely Longbottom) had been less than fruitful. True, the shop and innkeepers had spoken about a change in the nearby Forbidden Forest, but no one had any new or specific information.
The man called Savage suddenly noticed the loud thump of his shoes on stone, and realized his feet had led him to the castle. Picking his head up, he turned down the corridor and relaxed his shoulders as he shook off the snow flurries the wind had glued to his hair and jacket. Removing his right hand from his pocket, he unzipped his jacket halfway down and began to rummage in the concealed breast pocket inside. After a few fumbles, his fingers regained their full feeling and he pulled a small flask from his jacket and took a swig.
His face puckered and his eyes watered as the sour liquid drizzled down his throat, and he hoped his own potion wouldn’t turn bitter with old age as well. Replacing the flask within his jacket, he slowed his pace as he approached the familiar doors to centaurian Divination and let out a great sigh before giving three loud knocks. Please… please have some answers…
“Enter,” a low voice mumbled from within, and the man called Savage pushed the door open with a great heave.
At first, the man called Savage couldn’t see anything in the shadows of the wooded room, but his eyes caught the sparkle of Firenze’s startling blues in the corner and the glisten of his blonde hair followed shortly. He cleared his throat before speaking, “Excuse me, but I am looking for the centaur Firenze.”
“You have come to the right place, stranger.” Firenze said deeply, stepping out of the shadows and into the center of the room, his shoulders relaxed with both hands behind his back until he unfolded his left to beckon the man called Savage to sit on a tree stump nearby.
“Ahm, no thank you.” He had shivered involuntarily when Firenze had called him ‘stranger’, and he couldn’t shake the chill that seemed to linger all about him. “How long have you been at Hogwarts, Mr. Firenze?” He hated his forced ignorance, but it was a necessary evil.
Firenze’s calm exterior vanished suddenly and an electric static seemed to fill the space between them. “Do not patronize me, stranger.” He seethed, stomping one hoof in abided anger.
“I-I apologi—” he stammered, not anticipating this turn of events.
Firenze swished his tail menacingly, something that eerily reminded the man called Savage about something he read about snakes rattling their tails before they strike in a reptile house a lifetime ago. “I would not have saved your life if I intended to take it from you at a time yet to come.”
The centaur’s blue eyes pierced him, and he could not convince himself that this was anyone but the real Firenze… or that his disguise was the least bit effective on him. The man called Savage nodded in understanding and gratitude, and the static in the air slowly dissipated as consideration passed between them until Firenze spoke again. “You seek the Changeling.” It was a statement, not a question.
He took a few slow steps closer, hiding the intimidation he still felt, “I am looking for answers.” Firenze didn’t respond, so he continued cautiously, “There have been attacks in the Forbidden Forest, do you know anything about that?”
“I have not set hoof in the Forest for many years now,” he turned his face up to the ceiling above – charmed to look like the night sky, “but Mars is burning ever brightly this past fortnight.” Firenze did not respond for some time, then finally sighed as he looked back down to his visitor. “You’re visit has been foretold.”
“Does this mean you will help me?” he replied, trying not to sound too eager.
“I will help the Changeling. I will help you.” He nodded, indicating he would allow himself to be questioned now.
The man called Savage concentrated on keeping his heartbeat calm, lest he give his secret excitement away. “The attacks in the Forest… what do they mean?”
“They are warnings, stranger.” His voice was deeper, weighted with the severity of the situation.
He folded his arms over his chest and furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity. “Warnings? To the centaurs?”
“Among others. Our kind is able to read the signs first. We were warned first.” Centaurian Pride. The man called Savage sighed out of habit; his ex-girlfriend used to have bouts of this frustratingly immoveable emotion from time to time…
Firenze looked like he was finished with the interview as he began to turn away, but the man called Savage refused to stop now. “Do you know what the warning is for?”
The centaur stopper and look back towards his questioner, “Danger. Something is coming.”
“Some thing? Or Some one?”
Firenze began to saunter away slowly, his blonde tail swishing side-to-side as he did so. “Find the herd. Present yourself as you truly are and they will help you.”
He took a step forward, imploring Firenze to wait just a few minutes more, “But centaurs don’t help humans!” He could barely see the centaur in the shadows of the room now.
“If all else fails, seek Bane.”
That was it – the conversation had ended and there was nothing more he could do or say. He nodded once more in appreciation before turning on his heels and exiting the forested classroom - the heat that arose from his frustration melting away the chill that had lingered previously. He shook back his left sleeve and checked his watch – nearly thirty minutes had passed since he entered classroom eleven, and he had two choices: follow Firenze’s advice and be conspicuously absent (as far as his partner was concerned) or meet back up with Weasley and try again later. Reason told him checking in with his partner was the smart thing to do… but he wasn’t feeling too reasonable at the moment.
Turning back down the corridor to the castle exit, the man called Savage walked determinedly back into the bitterly cold breeze that had nearly become a blizzard in the still-early morning. He had thirty minutes left, maybe more before he could “present himself as he truly was”… as long as that meant what he thought it did… He wasn’t sure what else it could possibly mean, but, he thought cynically, you can never be too sure with centaurs.
Ducking his head to avert the sting of flying snow and ice, the man called Savage continued towards the Forbidden Forest desperately trying not to think of all the things that might go wrong. Show himself as he truly was… did that mean they already knew him? Had she talked about him? What could she have told them? There was great potential that he was walking into a lion’s den, especially since he knew she had gone to stay with them for a few months before she moved in with Andromeda Tonks… Hermione never would say where she had gone, and at the time he supposed it had been for her safety… but now he considered the idea that maybe Hermione hadn’t told him for his own well-being…
The blinding white of snow faded abruptly, leaving a few patches of newly fallen ice crystals and random heaps of gray sludge in between the soggy brown of the slumbering trees. He took the vaguely familiar route off the barely-beaten path, the crunch of dead twigs and brush beneath his feet, the victims of winter. The season had seemingly come upon them overnight, birthed from autumn with an embittered scream of ice and indignation, and he forcibly relaxed his shoulders in the pathetic “warmth” the overgrowth provided.
As he continued, the forest view became blurred with what he suspected was the deepening of the wood surrounding him, and he realized after several more minutes that it was his potion wearing off – he was to be himself for the first time in recent memory. Withdrawing his wand from a second hidden pocket within his coat, the man called Savage moved his fingers and wrist in a calculated pattern until a small ‘pop’ announced his success and a pair of worn, round-rimmed glasses fell into his waiting hand. He returned his wand to its resting place in his breast pocket and took a closer inspection of his hands – now that he could see them in definition once more.
He smiled in spite of everything, pleased to see the signs of Savage’s old age and diminishing health absent from his skin. With that thought, the smile faded immediately as youthful guilt swept over him and he wondered just how Savage was really doing wherever he was… “Ugh!” the man lost his footing and his breath as his shoe became locked beneath a rebellious tree root, but he recovered with only a stumble and a slight shock to the system. Straightening himself up, the man dusted off his shoulders and took in his surroundings – refusing any wayward thoughts to distract him a second time.
The sadistic tree root was attached to a massive oak tree that seemed to bend with maturity and wisdom into a second, similar tree. Stepping back, he took in the sight of the entrance to the centaur valley for the first time in nearly six years. It was almost romantic, the majestic trees defying their nature and leaning towards one another – intertwining the crowns of their branches to embrace each other in an everlasting kiss. “You are trespassing, human.”
The man shook himself and readjusted his vision, previously lost in the beauty of his destination – distraction seemed to be impeding his path at every turn. Now, he could see a mahogany bay centaur glowering at him with equally deep eyes… and an arrow already drawn in his bow. “I apologize, I mean the centaurs no harm.”
He didn’t waver, his fingers didn’t even tremble with the tension of the bow. “Leave.” An order.
“Please… I am here to find – and help – Sabriel.” The man maintained his posture, refusing to cower or show weakness.
“Proud human. Centaurs do not need help from anything, let alone your kind.” His eyes narrowed forebodingly, and the man pressed his fingers together to keep them from flinching in want of his wand.
“NIBAL!” A rich voice echoed throughout the valley, causing tremors in the undergrowth the man could feel penetrate his bones.
The bay centaur peeled the bow and arrow back in a single smooth motion and stepped to one side of the oak trees, revealing the entrance to the hollow that lay behind. Slowly, a large centaur emerged from the shadows, greater than any the man supposed he had ever seen. Yet he knew he had seen this particular centaur before… but he seemed different than the man could remember – elevated somehow… older… wiser… “I will speak with the human. Return to your position.” The centaur Nibal nodded to his superior and flashed a grimace back to the man a final time before retreating back into the centaur valley. The Leader of the centaurs sauntered calmly and determinedly away from the oak trees, his hands clasped behind his back where a large sword rested, strapped to his torso. The man followed silently as the centaur turned and began to follow the line of trees that encircled his home. “I should kill you, Harry Potter.” The centaur stopped and made a semi-circle to face the man once more, his face alarmingly relaxed.
All the pretense he had built up evaporated immediately, and Harry swallowed hard, “Er, can I ask why?”
“You stole my daughter from me.” The centaur’s prominent bicep muscles twitched ominously.
“Ronan…” Harry finally remembered the centaurian leader’s name, but an explanation – any words at all – escaped him as a remarkable alliance of fear and guilt began to pump from his heart into his veins.
“Then again, I could just as easily thank you.” Ronan’s tone seemed to yield slightly, though his pitiless expression remained.
Harry was still struggling to form words – preferably those of the innocuous spirit, “Er, why?”
Ronan sighed heavily with a small and brief mist, then let his proud shoulders fall in grief, “Because you returned her to me. However broken Sabriel may have been - she returned.”
“I… I…” Still, Harry’s speech failed him, but for an entirely different reason now. “I am sorry, Ronan.”
The centaur seemed heavier, burdened somehow, and he turned away from his visitor yet again. “It does not matter now.”
“Ronan?” Worry began to seep into Harry like the absorption of a liquid into a thick cloth – excruciatingly slow yet inescapable.
“My daughter is gone.” His tone was flat now, leveled with the weight of this statement.
Harry stepped forward, a rush of energy as his heartbeat quickened with dread. “Gone?”
Ronan’s hair began to flow downward as he put his face to the sky – almost invisible despite the nudity of the trees overhead. “Sabriel was sent out of the valley in service to our herd. She never returned.”
“Whe—”
“Over a fortnight has passed.” Ronan’s gravity commanded a silence between them – even the forest seemed to grow quiet in respectful observation.
Harry searched his thoughts, disbelief throwing his mind into disarray. “Have you found any proof?”
Ronan whipped about to face him, his eyes aflame with rage and sorrow and the muscles of his body convulsing terribly, “SHE HAS DISAPPEARED FROM THE SKIES, THIEF!” For a few horrific moments Harry thought Ronan might come at him, but the regal centaur collapsed into himself suddenly as he appeared to crumble while remaining on all hooves. “She has disappeared from the skies…”
Silence drifted among them again, both party stunned beyond any action or words. Ronan, the leader of the centaurs, looked almost human in his anguish, which exalted his majesty even further. Centaurs were a breed known for their strength and fortitude, and Harry felt awkward and unworthy as he watched the greatest of them crack and break before him. Harry, too, felt his insides begin to splinter as Ronan’s words reverberated in the empty chamber of his mind… “gone”… “disappeared”…
Sean could not be gone. She was too strong for that. She was too smart for that. He needed her too much for it to be true. “With all do respect, what does a disappearance from the sky mean?” He swallowed hard, pushing the truth he knew down his throat in a great lump that sank like a rock into his stomach.
“When a centaur passes, they fall from the sky and our Sight. We cannot return them until we have their Spirit Arrow… made of their ashes.” Ronan spoke without emotion now, all the feeling had been leaked through the fractures in his façade and he sealed himself shut once more.
Harry took a deep breath and straightened his spine, stiffening his resolve. “I refuse to believe she’s gone… not without evidence…” His breath become short and stuttered, “I can’t believe it.”
“You believe what you choose, human, but I will not imprison my herd to idol dreams. I speak the truth.” Ronan’s voice was calm again, though his tone had deepened and grown in warmth… perhaps even sympathy.
He squeezed his fists and closed his eyes, desperately trying to keep the fissures he felt running all over his body from splintering off. He imagined scars over his entire being like the cracks in a glass panel just before it shatters – lines of lightening that might destroy him if he didn’t… just… hold… on… “She’s not gone.” Harry said quietly through gritted teeth.
Opening his eyes to a scowled squint, he saw Ronan considering him pensively. Ronan stepped forward with a gentility Harry hadn’t expected, and he took a step back in confusion. “Our loss is shared, human, as is our grief.” The great centaur placed a single hand on Harry’s left shoulder, warm sympathy radiating down into the cavity where his heart used to be. As abrupt as the moment of compassion came – it left, as Ronan turned away and headed towards the entwined oak trees back to his home. Soon, the figure of the centaurian leader was lost to the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, but his voice echoed and lingered in the air a final time. “They will need you on the grounds, soon, Harry Potter. Go.”
He could not obey. His entire body felt petrified. His feet were nailed to the ground beneath them. He could not leave… not this place… A frigid breeze swirled about him and he closed his eyes and tried to smell her on the air. He thought he would find her here… he had been sure of it. He never thought this would be the place he would lose her…
Suddenly, the breeze that had seemed to warm him in spite of its rawness propelled into a gust of ice and dread. Harry turned his head to look behind him, but saw nothing to warrant the panic he could feel building all about him. Then he heard it – a desperate and unbelieving wrench of pain from the Hogwarts grounds – a single scream. Sean.
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Fifteen: Father Figure
It doesn’t make any sense, he repeated to himself as he trudged up the high street, bitter cold wind stinging his eyes until they began to water, and he realized how much he missed his glasses. Unicorns found dead, the “attack” in London, erratic behavior by a Hogwarts staff member, muggle traps in the forest… none of it made any sense! Each event appeared to be isolated incidents, but they all happened in such close succession to one another that they had to be related. Also, everything seemed to be centered around Sean Kiernan with the exception of the unicorn attacks… The unicorn attacks, bloody hell!
The man called Savage turned off the high street, his footprints digging farther into the snow as he stepped with heavier conviction (it was a testament to his training and experience that he didn’t break into a sprint). He began the descent towards Hogwarts Castle, his brain throbbing in time with his heartbeat as his mind raced… What did Hagrid say? When was the first body found? How long ago did Sean go into hiding? How could he get in contact with her? Would Teddy still be safe? Everything had been loosely tied together until recently… just a chain of coincidental incidents… but if someone knew about Sabriel… Only four other people knew about Sean’s second life among the centaur herd, and he didn’t think Hermione, Ron, or George were capable of corruption… but Firenze… Longbottom has had plenty of time at the Castle with Firenze – plenty of time to coerce him… drug him… Imperious him. His mind wandered back to the Hog’s Head for a fleeting moment, wondering if he should grab his “partner”… No, he told himself, if Ron came along he would certainly be able to tell I know too much about Sean’s private life than a typical Auror – even Savage.
Why hadn’t they thought to talk to Firenze? The thought was maddening, and as he let his head fall he couldn’t help but feel like the past week at his alma mater had been a complete waste of time. In fact, the best information they had received since their arrival was from Hagrid – McGonagall was fairly reserved about giving up information (which was expected), and their observations of the other professors (namely Longbottom) had been less than fruitful. True, the shop and innkeepers had spoken about a change in the nearby Forbidden Forest, but no one had any new or specific information.
The man called Savage suddenly noticed the loud thump of his shoes on stone, and realized his feet had led him to the castle. Picking his head up, he turned down the corridor and relaxed his shoulders as he shook off the snow flurries the wind had glued to his hair and jacket. Removing his right hand from his pocket, he unzipped his jacket halfway down and began to rummage in the concealed breast pocket inside. After a few fumbles, his fingers regained their full feeling and he pulled a small flask from his jacket and took a swig.
His face puckered and his eyes watered as the sour liquid drizzled down his throat, and he hoped his own potion wouldn’t turn bitter with old age as well. Replacing the flask within his jacket, he slowed his pace as he approached the familiar doors to centaurian Divination and let out a great sigh before giving three loud knocks. Please… please have some answers…
“Enter,” a low voice mumbled from within, and the man called Savage pushed the door open with a great heave.
At first, the man called Savage couldn’t see anything in the shadows of the wooded room, but his eyes caught the sparkle of Firenze’s startling blues in the corner and the glisten of his blonde hair followed shortly. He cleared his throat before speaking, “Excuse me, but I am looking for the centaur Firenze.”
“You have come to the right place, stranger.” Firenze said deeply, stepping out of the shadows and into the center of the room, his shoulders relaxed with both hands behind his back until he unfolded his left to beckon the man called Savage to sit on a tree stump nearby.
“Ahm, no thank you.” He had shivered involuntarily when Firenze had called him ‘stranger’, and he couldn’t shake the chill that seemed to linger all about him. “How long have you been at Hogwarts, Mr. Firenze?” He hated his forced ignorance, but it was a necessary evil.
Firenze’s calm exterior vanished suddenly and an electric static seemed to fill the space between them. “Do not patronize me, stranger.” He seethed, stomping one hoof in abided anger.
“I-I apologi—” he stammered, not anticipating this turn of events.
Firenze swished his tail menacingly, something that eerily reminded the man called Savage about something he read about snakes rattling their tails before they strike in a reptile house a lifetime ago. “I would not have saved your life if I intended to take it from you at a time yet to come.”
The centaur’s blue eyes pierced him, and he could not convince himself that this was anyone but the real Firenze… or that his disguise was the least bit effective on him. The man called Savage nodded in understanding and gratitude, and the static in the air slowly dissipated as consideration passed between them until Firenze spoke again. “You seek the Changeling.” It was a statement, not a question.
He took a few slow steps closer, hiding the intimidation he still felt, “I am looking for answers.” Firenze didn’t respond, so he continued cautiously, “There have been attacks in the Forbidden Forest, do you know anything about that?”
“I have not set hoof in the Forest for many years now,” he turned his face up to the ceiling above – charmed to look like the night sky, “but Mars is burning ever brightly this past fortnight.” Firenze did not respond for some time, then finally sighed as he looked back down to his visitor. “You’re visit has been foretold.”
“Does this mean you will help me?” he replied, trying not to sound too eager.
“I will help the Changeling. I will help you.” He nodded, indicating he would allow himself to be questioned now.
The man called Savage concentrated on keeping his heartbeat calm, lest he give his secret excitement away. “The attacks in the Forest… what do they mean?”
“They are warnings, stranger.” His voice was deeper, weighted with the severity of the situation.
He folded his arms over his chest and furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity. “Warnings? To the centaurs?”
“Among others. Our kind is able to read the signs first. We were warned first.” Centaurian Pride. The man called Savage sighed out of habit; his ex-girlfriend used to have bouts of this frustratingly immoveable emotion from time to time…
Firenze looked like he was finished with the interview as he began to turn away, but the man called Savage refused to stop now. “Do you know what the warning is for?”
The centaur stopper and look back towards his questioner, “Danger. Something is coming.”
“Some thing? Or Some one?”
Firenze began to saunter away slowly, his blonde tail swishing side-to-side as he did so. “Find the herd. Present yourself as you truly are and they will help you.”
He took a step forward, imploring Firenze to wait just a few minutes more, “But centaurs don’t help humans!” He could barely see the centaur in the shadows of the room now.
“If all else fails, seek Bane.”
That was it – the conversation had ended and there was nothing more he could do or say. He nodded once more in appreciation before turning on his heels and exiting the forested classroom - the heat that arose from his frustration melting away the chill that had lingered previously. He shook back his left sleeve and checked his watch – nearly thirty minutes had passed since he entered classroom eleven, and he had two choices: follow Firenze’s advice and be conspicuously absent (as far as his partner was concerned) or meet back up with Weasley and try again later. Reason told him checking in with his partner was the smart thing to do… but he wasn’t feeling too reasonable at the moment.
Turning back down the corridor to the castle exit, the man called Savage walked determinedly back into the bitterly cold breeze that had nearly become a blizzard in the still-early morning. He had thirty minutes left, maybe more before he could “present himself as he truly was”… as long as that meant what he thought it did… He wasn’t sure what else it could possibly mean, but, he thought cynically, you can never be too sure with centaurs.
Ducking his head to avert the sting of flying snow and ice, the man called Savage continued towards the Forbidden Forest desperately trying not to think of all the things that might go wrong. Show himself as he truly was… did that mean they already knew him? Had she talked about him? What could she have told them? There was great potential that he was walking into a lion’s den, especially since he knew she had gone to stay with them for a few months before she moved in with Andromeda Tonks… Hermione never would say where she had gone, and at the time he supposed it had been for her safety… but now he considered the idea that maybe Hermione hadn’t told him for his own well-being…
The blinding white of snow faded abruptly, leaving a few patches of newly fallen ice crystals and random heaps of gray sludge in between the soggy brown of the slumbering trees. He took the vaguely familiar route off the barely-beaten path, the crunch of dead twigs and brush beneath his feet, the victims of winter. The season had seemingly come upon them overnight, birthed from autumn with an embittered scream of ice and indignation, and he forcibly relaxed his shoulders in the pathetic “warmth” the overgrowth provided.
As he continued, the forest view became blurred with what he suspected was the deepening of the wood surrounding him, and he realized after several more minutes that it was his potion wearing off – he was to be himself for the first time in recent memory. Withdrawing his wand from a second hidden pocket within his coat, the man called Savage moved his fingers and wrist in a calculated pattern until a small ‘pop’ announced his success and a pair of worn, round-rimmed glasses fell into his waiting hand. He returned his wand to its resting place in his breast pocket and took a closer inspection of his hands – now that he could see them in definition once more.
He smiled in spite of everything, pleased to see the signs of Savage’s old age and diminishing health absent from his skin. With that thought, the smile faded immediately as youthful guilt swept over him and he wondered just how Savage was really doing wherever he was… “Ugh!” the man lost his footing and his breath as his shoe became locked beneath a rebellious tree root, but he recovered with only a stumble and a slight shock to the system. Straightening himself up, the man dusted off his shoulders and took in his surroundings – refusing any wayward thoughts to distract him a second time.
The sadistic tree root was attached to a massive oak tree that seemed to bend with maturity and wisdom into a second, similar tree. Stepping back, he took in the sight of the entrance to the centaur valley for the first time in nearly six years. It was almost romantic, the majestic trees defying their nature and leaning towards one another – intertwining the crowns of their branches to embrace each other in an everlasting kiss. “You are trespassing, human.”
The man shook himself and readjusted his vision, previously lost in the beauty of his destination – distraction seemed to be impeding his path at every turn. Now, he could see a mahogany bay centaur glowering at him with equally deep eyes… and an arrow already drawn in his bow. “I apologize, I mean the centaurs no harm.”
He didn’t waver, his fingers didn’t even tremble with the tension of the bow. “Leave.” An order.
“Please… I am here to find – and help – Sabriel.” The man maintained his posture, refusing to cower or show weakness.
“Proud human. Centaurs do not need help from anything, let alone your kind.” His eyes narrowed forebodingly, and the man pressed his fingers together to keep them from flinching in want of his wand.
“NIBAL!” A rich voice echoed throughout the valley, causing tremors in the undergrowth the man could feel penetrate his bones.
The bay centaur peeled the bow and arrow back in a single smooth motion and stepped to one side of the oak trees, revealing the entrance to the hollow that lay behind. Slowly, a large centaur emerged from the shadows, greater than any the man supposed he had ever seen. Yet he knew he had seen this particular centaur before… but he seemed different than the man could remember – elevated somehow… older… wiser… “I will speak with the human. Return to your position.” The centaur Nibal nodded to his superior and flashed a grimace back to the man a final time before retreating back into the centaur valley. The Leader of the centaurs sauntered calmly and determinedly away from the oak trees, his hands clasped behind his back where a large sword rested, strapped to his torso. The man followed silently as the centaur turned and began to follow the line of trees that encircled his home. “I should kill you, Harry Potter.” The centaur stopped and made a semi-circle to face the man once more, his face alarmingly relaxed.
All the pretense he had built up evaporated immediately, and Harry swallowed hard, “Er, can I ask why?”
“You stole my daughter from me.” The centaur’s prominent bicep muscles twitched ominously.
“Ronan…” Harry finally remembered the centaurian leader’s name, but an explanation – any words at all – escaped him as a remarkable alliance of fear and guilt began to pump from his heart into his veins.
“Then again, I could just as easily thank you.” Ronan’s tone seemed to yield slightly, though his pitiless expression remained.
Harry was still struggling to form words – preferably those of the innocuous spirit, “Er, why?”
Ronan sighed heavily with a small and brief mist, then let his proud shoulders fall in grief, “Because you returned her to me. However broken Sabriel may have been - she returned.”
“I… I…” Still, Harry’s speech failed him, but for an entirely different reason now. “I am sorry, Ronan.”
The centaur seemed heavier, burdened somehow, and he turned away from his visitor yet again. “It does not matter now.”
“Ronan?” Worry began to seep into Harry like the absorption of a liquid into a thick cloth – excruciatingly slow yet inescapable.
“My daughter is gone.” His tone was flat now, leveled with the weight of this statement.
Harry stepped forward, a rush of energy as his heartbeat quickened with dread. “Gone?”
Ronan’s hair began to flow downward as he put his face to the sky – almost invisible despite the nudity of the trees overhead. “Sabriel was sent out of the valley in service to our herd. She never returned.”
“Whe—”
“Over a fortnight has passed.” Ronan’s gravity commanded a silence between them – even the forest seemed to grow quiet in respectful observation.
Harry searched his thoughts, disbelief throwing his mind into disarray. “Have you found any proof?”
Ronan whipped about to face him, his eyes aflame with rage and sorrow and the muscles of his body convulsing terribly, “SHE HAS DISAPPEARED FROM THE SKIES, THIEF!” For a few horrific moments Harry thought Ronan might come at him, but the regal centaur collapsed into himself suddenly as he appeared to crumble while remaining on all hooves. “She has disappeared from the skies…”
Silence drifted among them again, both party stunned beyond any action or words. Ronan, the leader of the centaurs, looked almost human in his anguish, which exalted his majesty even further. Centaurs were a breed known for their strength and fortitude, and Harry felt awkward and unworthy as he watched the greatest of them crack and break before him. Harry, too, felt his insides begin to splinter as Ronan’s words reverberated in the empty chamber of his mind… “gone”… “disappeared”…
Sean could not be gone. She was too strong for that. She was too smart for that. He needed her too much for it to be true. “With all do respect, what does a disappearance from the sky mean?” He swallowed hard, pushing the truth he knew down his throat in a great lump that sank like a rock into his stomach.
“When a centaur passes, they fall from the sky and our Sight. We cannot return them until we have their Spirit Arrow… made of their ashes.” Ronan spoke without emotion now, all the feeling had been leaked through the fractures in his façade and he sealed himself shut once more.
Harry took a deep breath and straightened his spine, stiffening his resolve. “I refuse to believe she’s gone… not without evidence…” His breath become short and stuttered, “I can’t believe it.”
“You believe what you choose, human, but I will not imprison my herd to idol dreams. I speak the truth.” Ronan’s voice was calm again, though his tone had deepened and grown in warmth… perhaps even sympathy.
He squeezed his fists and closed his eyes, desperately trying to keep the fissures he felt running all over his body from splintering off. He imagined scars over his entire being like the cracks in a glass panel just before it shatters – lines of lightening that might destroy him if he didn’t… just… hold… on… “She’s not gone.” Harry said quietly through gritted teeth.
Opening his eyes to a scowled squint, he saw Ronan considering him pensively. Ronan stepped forward with a gentility Harry hadn’t expected, and he took a step back in confusion. “Our loss is shared, human, as is our grief.” The great centaur placed a single hand on Harry’s left shoulder, warm sympathy radiating down into the cavity where his heart used to be. As abrupt as the moment of compassion came – it left, as Ronan turned away and headed towards the entwined oak trees back to his home. Soon, the figure of the centaurian leader was lost to the shadows of the Forbidden Forest, but his voice echoed and lingered in the air a final time. “They will need you on the grounds, soon, Harry Potter. Go.”
He could not obey. His entire body felt petrified. His feet were nailed to the ground beneath them. He could not leave… not this place… A frigid breeze swirled about him and he closed his eyes and tried to smell her on the air. He thought he would find her here… he had been sure of it. He never thought this would be the place he would lose her…
Suddenly, the breeze that had seemed to warm him in spite of its rawness propelled into a gust of ice and dread. Harry turned his head to look behind him, but saw nothing to warrant the panic he could feel building all about him. Then he heard it – a desperate and unbelieving wrench of pain from the Hogwarts grounds – a single scream. Sean.
please review!
A/N: once again, MASSIVE thanks to bd and cg (and hopefully steppy, soon 
) for their responses! this chapter isn't very thrilling, but it is very important to the plot! it also makes me a bit sad, but i hope you love it anyway!
16: The Alternative
“He didn’t leave a note of any kind?”
“Nothing.” Ron sighed deeply and began to rub his hair vigorously in exhaustion, which felt an awful lot like fur in want of a proper haircut.
Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned back in his russet leather armchair and rested his finger dejectedly upon his temple. “Theories.”
Ron, also laid back in his seat, began to count off on his fingers, “One: he wasn’t in his right mind and was somehow able to curse himself in spite of his mental state. Two: he was lucid and overcome with grief, but then wouldn’t have done this to himself because he was thinking rationally. Three… three…” Ron trailed off and balled his hand into a fist to try and collect himself.
It was the Minister’s turn to sigh, “He was attacked.”
“Yeah… that…” Ron leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees while he popped his knuckles. “I don’t know what to do here, Kings…”
Once again, Kingsley mimicked his Auror’s actions and leaned forward to put his elbows on his desk and fold his hands. “Just do your job, Ron.”
Ron leapt from his seat and slammed his right fist onto the Minister’s desk before Kingsley had time to react, “And exactly how am I supposed to do that, Minister?” Kingsley’s initial shock and outrage faded quickly, and he leaned back in his seat to allow Ron to continue protesting. “Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? Is that why you sent me with him, because you figured I was the most incompetent?”
Kingsley considered him for a moment as Ron continued to huff angrily while towering over his desk. He refolded his hands and drew them to his chin in polite query, “I gave you this assignment because you have the most knowledge about this case and I thought you would want to help your friend.” Ron slowly sat down in his seat once more and put his head down in embarrassment. “And, incidentally, I knew you would ‘figure it out’. I’ll admit I didn’t think it would have taken a single week, but still…” Silence settled between them, Ron’s eyes still downcast and Kingsley allowing him a few more moments to calm himself. “Does he know?”
“I don’t think so.” Ron pushed himself back in his chair and allowed his body to sag once more in fatigue. “How could he not tell me?” he mumbled, more to himself than the Minister.
“Because he was under strict orders not to.” Another pause in their conversation, until Kingsley sighed and asked the question he was dreading, “Is there any chance he had anything to do with the incident in the Greenhouses?”
For the first time in his professional life Ron considered lying to his superior, and he probably would have done so if it weren’t for the terrible nature of this particular incident. “Do I think Harry might have done this to Longbottom…? Personally, no… Professionally…”
“There’s a chance.” Kingsley finished for his friend.
“There’s a chance.” Ron repeated gravely. “I hadn’t seen him all morning – he was gone when I woke up…” Kingsley’s head began to sink with the weight of this admission, “And he was already at the Greenhouses when I arrived, which means he had to have been close.”
“What did Professor Sprout say?”
Ron drew his left foot onto his right knee and rested his hands on his supported leg, “Not much of anything, really. I checked in with McGonagall a few hours ago and Pomfrey said she was still in a bit a shock after finding him that way… I don’t think questioning her in this state is all that helpful… or ethical…”
“Alright,” Kingsley conceded, “Let’s go over this again.”
Ron put his leg back down and rubbed his thighs as if trying to keep himself awake or sane, “I was on my way to see McGonagall when I bumped into the Transfiguration professor, Estran. I was early for the meeting with the Headmistress, so I started talking to Estran, asking him if he might’ve noticed anything unusual recently.”
“And you just ‘bumped into him’? Where was he coming from?” Kingsley interjected shortly.
“Said he had just come from breakfast in the Great Hall – he didn’t seem rushed or out-of-breath or anything. I had no reason to doubt him.” Ron shrugged, and Kingsley waved his hand as if to say ‘continue’. Ron cleared his throat, “Right, well, we only spoke for a few moments before we heard a scream. I told Estran to get McGonagall and ran back towards to the Great Hall; it wasn’t until she screamed again that I could tell it was coming from outside and I headed for the grounds. There was a group of frightened students rushing out of the Greenhouses and they began pointing inside and yelling when they saw me.
“The Greenhouses were empty until I got to number three – Professor Sprout was crumbled on the floor, white as a ghost and crying, and Savage – Harry – conjured a blanket to wrap around her.” Ron paused for a moment as the image flashed in his mind again, sending an icy chill running up his spine.
Kingsley let out a weighted breath, “Did she seem frightened of him at all?”
“Hard to say,” Ron shrugged dismally, “she flinched when he put the blanket around her, but I suppose she would’ve done so had anyone touched her.” Kingsley raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement, “Anyway, we waited until McGonagall and Estran arrived and took Sprout to the Hospital Wing, then Savage – Harry – led me into Longbottom’s office…”
Kingsley leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk and rubbing his head in exasperation, “And you’re sure there wasn’t a note… or anything…?”
“Both Savage – Harry – and I did searching charms in the office, every Greenhouse, and on the body – if there had been a note, we would’ve found it.” Ron replied, a hint of aggravation in his voice. Kingsley’s only response was to rub his forehead once more, and Ron folded his arms across his chest defensively, “Look, we did everything by the book and there are only two feasible possibilities; we know the last action of Longbottom was the Cruciatus Curse, so he either tried to curse someone else in defense or he cursed himself into a coma. And I know Neville – he would never use an Unforgiveable on anyone, especially not himself… It just doesn’t make any sense…” Ron folded his hands and placed them behind his neck as he stretched it backwards, racking his brain for another explanation he knew wasn’t there.
A deep and depressive silence swept over them – an observation of the gravity of these events. “Have you heard anything about his condition?” Kingsley said softly as he folded his hands and placed them thoughtfully below his mouth, his elbows still on his desk.
Ron rubbed the stubble on his cheeks while a rogue thought asked himself when he would be able to have a proper shave again, “I got a post from St. Mungo’s earlier – Neville’s still unconscious, but in stable condition. They’re trying different restorative draughts as we speak.”
“There… is another alternative… another theory…” Kingsley offered, somewhat hesitantly, drawing deep breaths as he spoke.
“What?”
The muscles in Kingsley’s face looked as abruptly rigid as Ron’s back felt, “As Minister, I have to be objective in our investigations… However, I would be lying if I said I believed Harry was responsible for any of this…” Ron’s heart suddenly felt lighter than it had it months, “There is a pattern that seems to be emerging, a sort of loose connection between recent events and Kiernan. Now, we have all been under the impression that Sean is in need of protection, but…” Kingsley stumbled and paused, unsure of how to finish his thought. Finally, he cleared his throat and rubbed the left temple of his forehead, “…but, what if it is Sean that we need protection from?”
There was silence in the office once more, but Ron was incapable of noticing it at present. “Sh-Sean? Protection… from Sean? But then…” he trailed off, his thoughts racing as if trying to connect the pieces of the same mad puzzle as Kingsley must have done.
Kingsley let his left hand fall down to reconnect with his right and sighed, “Everyone affected has been directly connected to her, and nearly everything that’s happened has been on her word. What if… what if she’s the one working behind the scenes, manipulating us?”
The only reason Ron didn’t start yelling was due to the fact that Kinglsey Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, looked positively devastated by his own remarks – even more so than when he had made similar remarks about Harry. “But… it’s Sean…?” Ron pleaded, his head cocked to the side in confusion and disbelief.
“You didn’t seem this surprised when we suspected Harry?” Shacklebolt inquired politely, a hint of dark irony in his voice.
“But… but Harry… Harry is – was – in a dark, unhappy place for a long time… Sean… Sean seemed – seems rather… happy… I thought.” Ron concluded quietly.
Kingsley gave him a moment’s consideration out of respect, “Sean is a powerful witch, a fact I think we forget a little too often since she doesn’t keep her powers on display – but remember what those powers can do, Ron. Remember what grief they have caused.”
“That wasn’t her fault.” Ron’s voice was barely more than a whisper now.
“Not saying it was; but she was never fully questioned – we were all still in shock over Dumbledore’s death. Maybe she did tell us the truth and Voldemort had taken her… what if he’d done something… funny… to her… Wizards twice her age had gone against him and come off much worse.” Ron didn’t respond, so Kingsley simply continued as gently as he could manage. “Think about it, Ronald. She throws an accusation at Harry – her ex-boyfriend with whom we know she harbored a grudge, an accusation which we all believe, only no one can prove. Then, perhaps to implicate Harry, she has another one against Longbottom – her current boyfriend – again, impossible to prove…”
“Or disprove.” Ron muttered.
“And then she disappears with Teddy Lupin – an act with the potential to cause serious distress to Harry (as well as everyone else) – and Longbottom turns up a few weeks later, disposed of by the Cruciatus Curse! That’s… that’s a lot of coincidences, Ron, even for me…” The surge of energy that had swept over him in his explanation crashed, leaving sadness etched in the lines on his face.
Ron seemed to be struggling between the urge to throw up or start yelling again, but instead he took several long, deep breaths that began to take away the green tinge that hap suddenly appeared on his cheeks. “Why… when… when did you first…”
Much to Ron’s appreciation, Kingsley answered him before he could finish the question, “When she refused help from the Ministry.”
Ron puckered his lips in a sour expression – he supposed he would have become suspicious of Sean if she had accepted Ministry help. Still, he could not deny that the Minister had a point. “I guess it’s just as plausible as Harry being responsible.” There wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. “So, what now?”
“Now,” Kingsley sighed, “we send guards to watch over Longbottom, search Hogwarts a final time before pulling you both out, let Harry reveal himself back to your family, and approach this – thing – from an entirely new angle… and much more delicately, as well… I wouldn’t be too surprised if Potter never really forgives us for this righteous muck up.” Shacklebolt snorted in disgust, his eyes down at his folded hands.
“Muck up?” Ron repeated, slightly surprised, “I was under the impression that he was still a suspect?”
“’Course he is,” Kingsley retorted with the comfortable air of someone who might usually be sure of themselves restoring their resolve, “We just didn’t do a very good job of keeping that information to ourselves, did we?” He managed a weak grin in spite of the circumstances, “Let’s do better this time, eh?”
pleasepleaseplease review!
) for their responses! this chapter isn't very thrilling, but it is very important to the plot! it also makes me a bit sad, but i hope you love it anyway!16: The Alternative
“He didn’t leave a note of any kind?”
“Nothing.” Ron sighed deeply and began to rub his hair vigorously in exhaustion, which felt an awful lot like fur in want of a proper haircut.
Kingsley Shacklebolt leaned back in his russet leather armchair and rested his finger dejectedly upon his temple. “Theories.”
Ron, also laid back in his seat, began to count off on his fingers, “One: he wasn’t in his right mind and was somehow able to curse himself in spite of his mental state. Two: he was lucid and overcome with grief, but then wouldn’t have done this to himself because he was thinking rationally. Three… three…” Ron trailed off and balled his hand into a fist to try and collect himself.
It was the Minister’s turn to sigh, “He was attacked.”
“Yeah… that…” Ron leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees while he popped his knuckles. “I don’t know what to do here, Kings…”
Once again, Kingsley mimicked his Auror’s actions and leaned forward to put his elbows on his desk and fold his hands. “Just do your job, Ron.”
Ron leapt from his seat and slammed his right fist onto the Minister’s desk before Kingsley had time to react, “And exactly how am I supposed to do that, Minister?” Kingsley’s initial shock and outrage faded quickly, and he leaned back in his seat to allow Ron to continue protesting. “Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? Is that why you sent me with him, because you figured I was the most incompetent?”
Kingsley considered him for a moment as Ron continued to huff angrily while towering over his desk. He refolded his hands and drew them to his chin in polite query, “I gave you this assignment because you have the most knowledge about this case and I thought you would want to help your friend.” Ron slowly sat down in his seat once more and put his head down in embarrassment. “And, incidentally, I knew you would ‘figure it out’. I’ll admit I didn’t think it would have taken a single week, but still…” Silence settled between them, Ron’s eyes still downcast and Kingsley allowing him a few more moments to calm himself. “Does he know?”
“I don’t think so.” Ron pushed himself back in his chair and allowed his body to sag once more in fatigue. “How could he not tell me?” he mumbled, more to himself than the Minister.
“Because he was under strict orders not to.” Another pause in their conversation, until Kingsley sighed and asked the question he was dreading, “Is there any chance he had anything to do with the incident in the Greenhouses?”
For the first time in his professional life Ron considered lying to his superior, and he probably would have done so if it weren’t for the terrible nature of this particular incident. “Do I think Harry might have done this to Longbottom…? Personally, no… Professionally…”
“There’s a chance.” Kingsley finished for his friend.
“There’s a chance.” Ron repeated gravely. “I hadn’t seen him all morning – he was gone when I woke up…” Kingsley’s head began to sink with the weight of this admission, “And he was already at the Greenhouses when I arrived, which means he had to have been close.”
“What did Professor Sprout say?”
Ron drew his left foot onto his right knee and rested his hands on his supported leg, “Not much of anything, really. I checked in with McGonagall a few hours ago and Pomfrey said she was still in a bit a shock after finding him that way… I don’t think questioning her in this state is all that helpful… or ethical…”
“Alright,” Kingsley conceded, “Let’s go over this again.”
Ron put his leg back down and rubbed his thighs as if trying to keep himself awake or sane, “I was on my way to see McGonagall when I bumped into the Transfiguration professor, Estran. I was early for the meeting with the Headmistress, so I started talking to Estran, asking him if he might’ve noticed anything unusual recently.”
“And you just ‘bumped into him’? Where was he coming from?” Kingsley interjected shortly.
“Said he had just come from breakfast in the Great Hall – he didn’t seem rushed or out-of-breath or anything. I had no reason to doubt him.” Ron shrugged, and Kingsley waved his hand as if to say ‘continue’. Ron cleared his throat, “Right, well, we only spoke for a few moments before we heard a scream. I told Estran to get McGonagall and ran back towards to the Great Hall; it wasn’t until she screamed again that I could tell it was coming from outside and I headed for the grounds. There was a group of frightened students rushing out of the Greenhouses and they began pointing inside and yelling when they saw me.
“The Greenhouses were empty until I got to number three – Professor Sprout was crumbled on the floor, white as a ghost and crying, and Savage – Harry – conjured a blanket to wrap around her.” Ron paused for a moment as the image flashed in his mind again, sending an icy chill running up his spine.
Kingsley let out a weighted breath, “Did she seem frightened of him at all?”
“Hard to say,” Ron shrugged dismally, “she flinched when he put the blanket around her, but I suppose she would’ve done so had anyone touched her.” Kingsley raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement, “Anyway, we waited until McGonagall and Estran arrived and took Sprout to the Hospital Wing, then Savage – Harry – led me into Longbottom’s office…”
Kingsley leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk and rubbing his head in exasperation, “And you’re sure there wasn’t a note… or anything…?”
“Both Savage – Harry – and I did searching charms in the office, every Greenhouse, and on the body – if there had been a note, we would’ve found it.” Ron replied, a hint of aggravation in his voice. Kingsley’s only response was to rub his forehead once more, and Ron folded his arms across his chest defensively, “Look, we did everything by the book and there are only two feasible possibilities; we know the last action of Longbottom was the Cruciatus Curse, so he either tried to curse someone else in defense or he cursed himself into a coma. And I know Neville – he would never use an Unforgiveable on anyone, especially not himself… It just doesn’t make any sense…” Ron folded his hands and placed them behind his neck as he stretched it backwards, racking his brain for another explanation he knew wasn’t there.
A deep and depressive silence swept over them – an observation of the gravity of these events. “Have you heard anything about his condition?” Kingsley said softly as he folded his hands and placed them thoughtfully below his mouth, his elbows still on his desk.
Ron rubbed the stubble on his cheeks while a rogue thought asked himself when he would be able to have a proper shave again, “I got a post from St. Mungo’s earlier – Neville’s still unconscious, but in stable condition. They’re trying different restorative draughts as we speak.”
“There… is another alternative… another theory…” Kingsley offered, somewhat hesitantly, drawing deep breaths as he spoke.
“What?”
The muscles in Kingsley’s face looked as abruptly rigid as Ron’s back felt, “As Minister, I have to be objective in our investigations… However, I would be lying if I said I believed Harry was responsible for any of this…” Ron’s heart suddenly felt lighter than it had it months, “There is a pattern that seems to be emerging, a sort of loose connection between recent events and Kiernan. Now, we have all been under the impression that Sean is in need of protection, but…” Kingsley stumbled and paused, unsure of how to finish his thought. Finally, he cleared his throat and rubbed the left temple of his forehead, “…but, what if it is Sean that we need protection from?”
There was silence in the office once more, but Ron was incapable of noticing it at present. “Sh-Sean? Protection… from Sean? But then…” he trailed off, his thoughts racing as if trying to connect the pieces of the same mad puzzle as Kingsley must have done.
Kingsley let his left hand fall down to reconnect with his right and sighed, “Everyone affected has been directly connected to her, and nearly everything that’s happened has been on her word. What if… what if she’s the one working behind the scenes, manipulating us?”
The only reason Ron didn’t start yelling was due to the fact that Kinglsey Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, looked positively devastated by his own remarks – even more so than when he had made similar remarks about Harry. “But… it’s Sean…?” Ron pleaded, his head cocked to the side in confusion and disbelief.
“You didn’t seem this surprised when we suspected Harry?” Shacklebolt inquired politely, a hint of dark irony in his voice.
“But… but Harry… Harry is – was – in a dark, unhappy place for a long time… Sean… Sean seemed – seems rather… happy… I thought.” Ron concluded quietly.
Kingsley gave him a moment’s consideration out of respect, “Sean is a powerful witch, a fact I think we forget a little too often since she doesn’t keep her powers on display – but remember what those powers can do, Ron. Remember what grief they have caused.”
“That wasn’t her fault.” Ron’s voice was barely more than a whisper now.
“Not saying it was; but she was never fully questioned – we were all still in shock over Dumbledore’s death. Maybe she did tell us the truth and Voldemort had taken her… what if he’d done something… funny… to her… Wizards twice her age had gone against him and come off much worse.” Ron didn’t respond, so Kingsley simply continued as gently as he could manage. “Think about it, Ronald. She throws an accusation at Harry – her ex-boyfriend with whom we know she harbored a grudge, an accusation which we all believe, only no one can prove. Then, perhaps to implicate Harry, she has another one against Longbottom – her current boyfriend – again, impossible to prove…”
“Or disprove.” Ron muttered.
“And then she disappears with Teddy Lupin – an act with the potential to cause serious distress to Harry (as well as everyone else) – and Longbottom turns up a few weeks later, disposed of by the Cruciatus Curse! That’s… that’s a lot of coincidences, Ron, even for me…” The surge of energy that had swept over him in his explanation crashed, leaving sadness etched in the lines on his face.
Ron seemed to be struggling between the urge to throw up or start yelling again, but instead he took several long, deep breaths that began to take away the green tinge that hap suddenly appeared on his cheeks. “Why… when… when did you first…”
Much to Ron’s appreciation, Kingsley answered him before he could finish the question, “When she refused help from the Ministry.”
Ron puckered his lips in a sour expression – he supposed he would have become suspicious of Sean if she had accepted Ministry help. Still, he could not deny that the Minister had a point. “I guess it’s just as plausible as Harry being responsible.” There wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. “So, what now?”
“Now,” Kingsley sighed, “we send guards to watch over Longbottom, search Hogwarts a final time before pulling you both out, let Harry reveal himself back to your family, and approach this – thing – from an entirely new angle… and much more delicately, as well… I wouldn’t be too surprised if Potter never really forgives us for this righteous muck up.” Shacklebolt snorted in disgust, his eyes down at his folded hands.
“Muck up?” Ron repeated, slightly surprised, “I was under the impression that he was still a suspect?”
“’Course he is,” Kingsley retorted with the comfortable air of someone who might usually be sure of themselves restoring their resolve, “We just didn’t do a very good job of keeping that information to ourselves, did we?” He managed a weak grin in spite of the circumstances, “Let’s do better this time, eh?”
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a/n: what would i do without you, bd/cg/steppy? you guys are awesome! well, i absolutely love this chapter and i really hope you do, too! enjoy!
17: Last Bit of Advice
He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes, but opened them rather quickly as Neville’s unconscious body flashed in his mind for the umpteenth time. “I’m sorry, Ron, I really am.”
Harry looked up to see Ron sitting opposite him, almost a mirror image of himself as his best friend sat on his bed, elbows on his knees and an expression of fatigue and gloom upon his face. “If I’d have been angry, I would’ve outed you before now.” Ron managed a weak grin.
Harry tried to return the smile, but it came out rather like a small grunt. “What does Kings want?”
Ron leaned back and rubbed the scruff that was threatening to take over the lower half of his face, “Close up shop here, get you back in, protect Longbottom, keep looking for Sean.”
An involuntary wince took over Harry’s body, and he sighed while Ron raised a curious eyebrow towards him, “There’s something I haven’t told you… ‘bout Sean.” Ron’s eyes darted towards Harry quick as a flash, though his head and body remained quite still and seemingly relaxed. “I went to see the centaurs yesterday – first Firenze and then the herd. They, er, they weren’t too keen on me, but I spoke to Ronan and he said… he said…” His throat seemed to have swollen of its own will; Harry’s hands were on his knees and his elbows locked, though his head and chest still seemed to sink in between his shoulders. “Ronan thinks Sean’s dead.” Harry hacked, forcing himself to speak words he did not and would not believe.
Ron’s eyes grew wide and his body stiffened as he leaned forward once more, “Dead? But she can’t be… dead… can she?”
“I… I honestly don’t know.” Harry admitted as his voice cracked, but he summoned his strength to add “But I don’t believe him.”
“What do you reckon?”
“She disappeared from the herd nearly three weeks ago, and Ronan said he can’t ‘find her in the stars’ or something like that… I remember Sean telling me, ages ago, that centaurs read the skies – like maps – but it can be a different map for a different purpose…” Harry trailed off as he mind tried to steal him away into a memory.
Ron, however, wouldn’t allow it. “What do you mean, ‘map’?”
Harry shook himself slightly, trying to keep his focus and his composure, “Sean said that she could look at a constellation and see if food would be bountiful that spring… and if she read another she could see her father and understand his condition… and sometimes, when the planets can be seen through a constellation, it might mean a change or disruption in the 'purpose'. She told me they read the fates of the herd from the constellation Sagittarius and her brother, Orn, was supposed to be a hunter, but when they saw Jupiter pass through the constellation Libra it was decided that he would be a warrior instead.” Harry relaxed his face, which had been screwed up in concentration, and massaged the bridge of his nose.
“Wait, what?” Now Ron’s face looked contorted.
“I know, she had to explain it me several times before I got it. See, Sagittarius tells them when a new centaur is going to be born or made or whatever, and they look to the constellation Libra to judge what role the centaur should have in the herd. Well, Saturn (which Sean said helps them know about the harvest and stuff) was in Libra when they first learned that Orn was going to be ‘named’, but when it came time for the ceremony Saturn had moved out of Libra and Jupiter (which is supposed to tell them about power, or something) was now visible in the constellation, which according to Sean is really rare. So, Orn was given the position of a warrior and that’s how they ‘read the skies’ or whatever…” He sighed heavily and removed his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose this time, a slow throbbing now developing in his temples.
After a long pause, during which time he looked as though he might be trying to do complicated math problems while staring at the ceiling, Ron finally replied, “Well, that’s complicated, isn’t it? So, what does this have to do with Ronan thinking she might be… you know...”
“Ronan probably looked at Sagittarius and couldn’t find Sean. Something he says doesn’t happen unless a centaur has ‘passed’…” The feeling of fissures running all over his body was beginning again, and he had to do something to stop it. Harry pulled himself to his feet and cleared his throat. “Hermione’s probably in a right state since you missed Christmas – why don’t you go ahead and I’ll clean up here.”
“You sure?” Ron asked carefully, mimicking Harry’s actions.
Harry had begun to move his wand around the room, cleaning up their supplies and restoring order to anything that might have been knocked aside, “Yeah, I’m sure. I wanted to see if I could have another go with the centaurs anyway… maybe talk to Sean’s brother or sister.”
Ron furrowed his brow in concern, but conceded with a heavy sigh, “All right, mate. Besides, I should probably warn everyone that you’ll be coming…” For the first time in nearly a month, a real grin broke out upon his face – reminiscent of his youth.
Harry even managed to smile back, “Tell your mum I think I’d like a green sweater this year.”
He walked the edge of the grounds, just skirting the entrance to the Forbidden Forest; he was trying to stiffen his resolve, but his feet didn’t seem convinced. Harry’s eyes kept darting from his feet to the Forest and back again at any noise or sign of movement, his heart debating between excitement and trepidation. He began to casually wonder how much damage arrows can do to your internal organs, but shook the thought from his head, took one last deep breath, and pulled out his wand as he stepped into the trees.
There was more snow on the ground now, but it had become grayer and soggier in most places since it had not been covered by a new layer today. Just as he stepped off the path, a sudden sense of alarm filled him and he froze, rooted to the spot. He looked all around him but there was nothing to be seen or heard, though this did not comfort him. Harry waited for a few more minutes in silence, then decided on a new course of action and headed for the Black Lake – hoping that anyone following him would not know the whereabouts of the centaurs’ hollow.
Harry’s eyes resumed their weird exchange between watching his feet (to make sure he didn’t trip in the undergrowth) and checking behind him (to make sure he wasn’t being followed). He had been walking for nearly ten minutes when the same feeling of alarm ran up his spine and he whirled around, wand out, to face whomever or whatever was out there – watching him. His ears prickled as he could hear the sounds of dead twigs snapping and something brushing past leaves somewhere up ahead and to his left. It was moving quickly… running… coming closer at a disturbingly fast pace, but Harry couldn’t move; for some unknown reason, he needed to see what this was – he knew he had to stay put and see this thing.
It was moving even faster; he could hear it breathing heavily as it approached. And then, he saw it - streaks of white and gray shooting through the brush, only distinguishable from the snow-covered floor because it was moving. The animal flew past him and he could see the blurred outline of a muzzle, ears, and a large tail…
Harry abandoned all caution and ran after the wolf as fast as his feet would carry him, she’s alive! It was her, watching me… she’s okay! “Sean!” Harry called out, nearly tripping on the fallen trunk of a dead tree, “Sean!” If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed the trees becoming thinner as they approached the Black Lake, but he only had eyes for the gray wolf. “Sean! Wait!”
He stopped after clearing the edge of the Forest, which had given way to a small, open space with a few bare trees and stark-white snow that acted like a coast to the Black Lake. Harry stepped back in surprise, as the wolf which had startled him was now joined by a second gray wolf, though this one was larger and looked rather formidable. The two wolves growled and snapped at each other, but it seemed to Harry as if they were playing, as they continued to jump on each other and wrestle one another to the ground, sending flurries of snow into the air.
“I would come back into the wood, lest they see you.”
Harry spun around so hard he nearly fell over; he didn’t know how long he had been watching the wolves at play, deciding which one was Sean, and he didn’t know how long he had been watched himself. There was a figure of a man just beyond the trees, but Harry pointed his wand at him instead of joining him. “Who are you?”
“Lower your wand, human! Do not insult me!”
A centaur. Harry replaced his wand back in his pocket and stepped back into the covering of the Forest, now able to see rest of the centaur properly. The centaur was quite large, almost as big as Ronan, with a black body and black hair. Harry had met this centaur before, “Hello, Bane.” Bane nodded, but didn’t respond; instead, he continued to stare at the wolves just as Harry had done before. Harry stood beside Bane and gazed at them as well, “What are they doing?”
“Courting.”
“Courting?! But Sean-”
“Sabriel is not among them; those are simple wolves in the clearing, which is why it is best to be out of their vision.” Bane’s voice was wild but deep, and gave off the sense that he was extremely intelligent and dangerous at the same time.
Silence fell and Harry turned away in anger, this wasn’t Sean? His small window of hope had been demolished, he had thought he was going to see her again for a few wonderful moments… “Where is she?” Harry asked quietly, praying this centaur would renew the some of the hope he had demolished.
“You distrust Ronan?” Bane countered, his voice full of malice as he hoofed the ground threateningly.
Harry took a step back and held up his palms, “No, wait! I just… I just want him to be wrong…”
Bane’s eyes flashed malevolently for a moment, but he exhaled deeply and his voice was calm once more when he spoke, “I understand.”
A tiny flicker of hope sparked somewhere in Harry’s stomach, and he remembered the last bit of advice Firenze had given him not two days earlier… If all else fails, seek Bane… “What does it mean when a centaur has disappeared from the skies?” he asked, a forced calm in his voice.
“They have died.” He said it calmly, as if he were discussing the weather, and Harry felt his mouth fall open and the breath escape his body. “But Sabriel is not dead.”
Harry nearly fell forward as he inhaled again, “She’s not?”
“She can no longer be read through the Great Centaur, but I have seen her in the Virgin.” He spoke as if this made perfect sense.
Harry furrowed his brows, trying desperately to remember Astronomy, “The Great Centaur? That’s… that’s Sagittarius, right? And the Virgin must be Virgo? How can you read her in Virgo?”
“Your trivial names for the stars are an insult, human.” Bane snapped back through gritted teeth, and he took a long pause before he could continue again without malice in his voice, “Sabriel is in hiding.”
“What does that—“
“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, THIEF!” Bane snarled, and Harry nearly found himself snarling back at being called ‘thief’ again, but quickly calmed his expression. “Sabriel is a centaur hiding among humans; she must renounce her herd to save it, which is why she is in the Virgin – she serves ready to give all of herself for her family.”
Harry waited for a moment to make sure Bane had finished talking this time, “Why doesn’t Ronan see her in the Virgin?”
Bane sighed deeply, and he looked troubled for the first time Harry could recall, “Ronan reads the skies differently. He believes Mercury in the Great Centaur brings a message of despair rather than hope.”
It was a strange moment as Harry considered the possibility that Bane might actually be more optimistic than Ronan, who was much calmer and seemingly wiser than Bane and his quick temper. “But Bane,” Harry began carefully, “how Sean is hiding among the humans… she is one…” The thought was something that had always bothered him, but Sean refused to discuss it whenever he asked – like she was afraid he would see something wrong with her, or maybe see too much of her altogether.
There was a flash of Bane’s dark eyes and Harry took an instinctually protective step away from the centaur, but his shoulder’s relaxed suddenly and his voice was calm, “What makes you human, thief?” Harry didn’t respond and kept his distance. “Is it your bones? Your flesh? What makes you human and I centaur?”
“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, confused beyond polite niceties.
Bane moved his arms to place his hands behind his back, reminding Harry very much of Ronan. “You have insulted my cousin.”
Insult? How did he insult her? Oh… “But she is human. Biologically, physically, mentally, whatever. She’s human.” The argument was maddeningly illogical and Harry wondered what Bane meant by it.
Bane continued on as if Harry had not responded, which was most definitely in his best interests. “I have seen creatures in these woods which appear to be of one species, but are of another. Do you understand?” There was a subtle anger in his voice, which Harry supposed he was trying very hard to control, and a hint of frustration at Harry’s confusion - like he wasn’t understanding on purpose.
“Ahm, I don’t think so.”
Bane neighed in what might have been a false laugh, “You have never seen a human pretending to be a dog…”
“But he was an Animagus, like Sean!”
“Or a kneazle pretending to be a cat…”
“Do what?”
“Or a monster pretending to be a man?” Bane’s eyes flashed once more, but Harry knew Bane’s hatred was not directed at him.
Harry swallowed hard, “Voldemort.” Bane nodded and he continued with a clenched jaw, “What does Voldemort have to do with Sean?” Harry could not hide the abhorrence in his own voice this time.
Bane moved ever-so-slightly so a small beam of sunlight made the quiver and bow strapped upon his back clearly visible, and Harry understood the warning. “They have both pretended to be human when they are not.” Harry wanted to scream at Bane and the absurdity of it all – she is human! Is he mad? He had seen her body, they had shared a bed…she is human! Before he could say any of this (thankfully), Bane continued, “It is true that Sabriel was born of your kind,” he almost sneered as if he had said a foul word, “but she has always been centaur.
“She had been taught to fight every instinct she has – every truth in her soul, because she was raised among humans…” Bane’s anger abated suddenly and his voice softened, “but she is a Warrior, and she fought you well.”
Harry’s hands were clenched in fists and his body had gone rigid with tension, and he struggled to keep his voice even. “I… don’t… understand…”
“You are human because you have a human soul. Your body could be mangled beyond repair,” Bane almost smiled as he said this, “but you would still see your world as only a human can. Sabriel has a centaurian soul. She will always see the world in accord with her true nature.” Bane looked at Harry as if this had settled the matter, but Harry was still unconvinced and it must have shown on his face. “You cannot see things as she does, and she resents this.”
It was as if something large and hard had fallen in the pit of Harry’s stomach; a sort of stone of realization that Bane was somehow, inexplicably right. “Everyone argues…” he mumbled, and he had the returned feeling of trying to convince himself more than the other party.
“Sabriel was raised with your kind,” Bane grimaced, “so she understands you, but she was born of our kind,” he thrust his chest out proudly, “and will always truly belong with the herd.”
“But she’s still… human…” Harry muttered feebly. As much as he hated to admit it, Bane had a point; unless they were in private, Sean was always withdrawn… That’s not true, he told himself firmly, but another small voice in his head popped up – you’re right, she was always withdrawn no matter the situation. Sean had a guard about her, not a protection, mind you, but still a guard… something separating her from everyone else. There had been only two times Harry had ever seen her without this guard, and he remembered thinking Sean had never looked more beautiful… or more terrifying… A thought dawned on Harry - she had looked like Ronan only two days earlier, a centaur so overcome with grief they looked almost human for a few majestic and horrific moments.
“Sabriel is centaur. Sean is her protection, that is all.” Bane frowned at Harry, though it might have been a poor attempt at looking sympathetic.
Harry let himself fall back and sit on the overturned tree trunk he had avoided earlier; the thoughts running through his brain were mutinous and enraging – a centaur he had met maybe twice in his life just explained his relationship with the woman he loved and why it was so bloody mucked up, whereas Harry had been trying to figure it out for years. He wanted to say ‘thank you’ to Bane, but all that came out was a strange grunting noise.
Bane stepped forward and spoke in a very low, very profound tone, “Sabriel will be back, human, she will.” Harry slowly managed to nod his thanks, and Bane turned away to continue watch the two wolves play in the clearing, “I wonder if her color will have returned when she does…” he muttered quietly to himself.
Harry picked his head up and gazed at Bane, nonplussed, “What?”
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17: Last Bit of Advice
He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes, but opened them rather quickly as Neville’s unconscious body flashed in his mind for the umpteenth time. “I’m sorry, Ron, I really am.”
Harry looked up to see Ron sitting opposite him, almost a mirror image of himself as his best friend sat on his bed, elbows on his knees and an expression of fatigue and gloom upon his face. “If I’d have been angry, I would’ve outed you before now.” Ron managed a weak grin.
Harry tried to return the smile, but it came out rather like a small grunt. “What does Kings want?”
Ron leaned back and rubbed the scruff that was threatening to take over the lower half of his face, “Close up shop here, get you back in, protect Longbottom, keep looking for Sean.”
An involuntary wince took over Harry’s body, and he sighed while Ron raised a curious eyebrow towards him, “There’s something I haven’t told you… ‘bout Sean.” Ron’s eyes darted towards Harry quick as a flash, though his head and body remained quite still and seemingly relaxed. “I went to see the centaurs yesterday – first Firenze and then the herd. They, er, they weren’t too keen on me, but I spoke to Ronan and he said… he said…” His throat seemed to have swollen of its own will; Harry’s hands were on his knees and his elbows locked, though his head and chest still seemed to sink in between his shoulders. “Ronan thinks Sean’s dead.” Harry hacked, forcing himself to speak words he did not and would not believe.
Ron’s eyes grew wide and his body stiffened as he leaned forward once more, “Dead? But she can’t be… dead… can she?”
“I… I honestly don’t know.” Harry admitted as his voice cracked, but he summoned his strength to add “But I don’t believe him.”
“What do you reckon?”
“She disappeared from the herd nearly three weeks ago, and Ronan said he can’t ‘find her in the stars’ or something like that… I remember Sean telling me, ages ago, that centaurs read the skies – like maps – but it can be a different map for a different purpose…” Harry trailed off as he mind tried to steal him away into a memory.
Ron, however, wouldn’t allow it. “What do you mean, ‘map’?”
Harry shook himself slightly, trying to keep his focus and his composure, “Sean said that she could look at a constellation and see if food would be bountiful that spring… and if she read another she could see her father and understand his condition… and sometimes, when the planets can be seen through a constellation, it might mean a change or disruption in the 'purpose'. She told me they read the fates of the herd from the constellation Sagittarius and her brother, Orn, was supposed to be a hunter, but when they saw Jupiter pass through the constellation Libra it was decided that he would be a warrior instead.” Harry relaxed his face, which had been screwed up in concentration, and massaged the bridge of his nose.
“Wait, what?” Now Ron’s face looked contorted.
“I know, she had to explain it me several times before I got it. See, Sagittarius tells them when a new centaur is going to be born or made or whatever, and they look to the constellation Libra to judge what role the centaur should have in the herd. Well, Saturn (which Sean said helps them know about the harvest and stuff) was in Libra when they first learned that Orn was going to be ‘named’, but when it came time for the ceremony Saturn had moved out of Libra and Jupiter (which is supposed to tell them about power, or something) was now visible in the constellation, which according to Sean is really rare. So, Orn was given the position of a warrior and that’s how they ‘read the skies’ or whatever…” He sighed heavily and removed his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose this time, a slow throbbing now developing in his temples.
After a long pause, during which time he looked as though he might be trying to do complicated math problems while staring at the ceiling, Ron finally replied, “Well, that’s complicated, isn’t it? So, what does this have to do with Ronan thinking she might be… you know...”
“Ronan probably looked at Sagittarius and couldn’t find Sean. Something he says doesn’t happen unless a centaur has ‘passed’…” The feeling of fissures running all over his body was beginning again, and he had to do something to stop it. Harry pulled himself to his feet and cleared his throat. “Hermione’s probably in a right state since you missed Christmas – why don’t you go ahead and I’ll clean up here.”
“You sure?” Ron asked carefully, mimicking Harry’s actions.
Harry had begun to move his wand around the room, cleaning up their supplies and restoring order to anything that might have been knocked aside, “Yeah, I’m sure. I wanted to see if I could have another go with the centaurs anyway… maybe talk to Sean’s brother or sister.”
Ron furrowed his brow in concern, but conceded with a heavy sigh, “All right, mate. Besides, I should probably warn everyone that you’ll be coming…” For the first time in nearly a month, a real grin broke out upon his face – reminiscent of his youth.
Harry even managed to smile back, “Tell your mum I think I’d like a green sweater this year.”
* * * * * *
He walked the edge of the grounds, just skirting the entrance to the Forbidden Forest; he was trying to stiffen his resolve, but his feet didn’t seem convinced. Harry’s eyes kept darting from his feet to the Forest and back again at any noise or sign of movement, his heart debating between excitement and trepidation. He began to casually wonder how much damage arrows can do to your internal organs, but shook the thought from his head, took one last deep breath, and pulled out his wand as he stepped into the trees.
There was more snow on the ground now, but it had become grayer and soggier in most places since it had not been covered by a new layer today. Just as he stepped off the path, a sudden sense of alarm filled him and he froze, rooted to the spot. He looked all around him but there was nothing to be seen or heard, though this did not comfort him. Harry waited for a few more minutes in silence, then decided on a new course of action and headed for the Black Lake – hoping that anyone following him would not know the whereabouts of the centaurs’ hollow.
Harry’s eyes resumed their weird exchange between watching his feet (to make sure he didn’t trip in the undergrowth) and checking behind him (to make sure he wasn’t being followed). He had been walking for nearly ten minutes when the same feeling of alarm ran up his spine and he whirled around, wand out, to face whomever or whatever was out there – watching him. His ears prickled as he could hear the sounds of dead twigs snapping and something brushing past leaves somewhere up ahead and to his left. It was moving quickly… running… coming closer at a disturbingly fast pace, but Harry couldn’t move; for some unknown reason, he needed to see what this was – he knew he had to stay put and see this thing.
It was moving even faster; he could hear it breathing heavily as it approached. And then, he saw it - streaks of white and gray shooting through the brush, only distinguishable from the snow-covered floor because it was moving. The animal flew past him and he could see the blurred outline of a muzzle, ears, and a large tail…
Harry abandoned all caution and ran after the wolf as fast as his feet would carry him, she’s alive! It was her, watching me… she’s okay! “Sean!” Harry called out, nearly tripping on the fallen trunk of a dead tree, “Sean!” If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed the trees becoming thinner as they approached the Black Lake, but he only had eyes for the gray wolf. “Sean! Wait!”
He stopped after clearing the edge of the Forest, which had given way to a small, open space with a few bare trees and stark-white snow that acted like a coast to the Black Lake. Harry stepped back in surprise, as the wolf which had startled him was now joined by a second gray wolf, though this one was larger and looked rather formidable. The two wolves growled and snapped at each other, but it seemed to Harry as if they were playing, as they continued to jump on each other and wrestle one another to the ground, sending flurries of snow into the air.
“I would come back into the wood, lest they see you.”
Harry spun around so hard he nearly fell over; he didn’t know how long he had been watching the wolves at play, deciding which one was Sean, and he didn’t know how long he had been watched himself. There was a figure of a man just beyond the trees, but Harry pointed his wand at him instead of joining him. “Who are you?”
“Lower your wand, human! Do not insult me!”
A centaur. Harry replaced his wand back in his pocket and stepped back into the covering of the Forest, now able to see rest of the centaur properly. The centaur was quite large, almost as big as Ronan, with a black body and black hair. Harry had met this centaur before, “Hello, Bane.” Bane nodded, but didn’t respond; instead, he continued to stare at the wolves just as Harry had done before. Harry stood beside Bane and gazed at them as well, “What are they doing?”
“Courting.”
“Courting?! But Sean-”
“Sabriel is not among them; those are simple wolves in the clearing, which is why it is best to be out of their vision.” Bane’s voice was wild but deep, and gave off the sense that he was extremely intelligent and dangerous at the same time.
Silence fell and Harry turned away in anger, this wasn’t Sean? His small window of hope had been demolished, he had thought he was going to see her again for a few wonderful moments… “Where is she?” Harry asked quietly, praying this centaur would renew the some of the hope he had demolished.
“You distrust Ronan?” Bane countered, his voice full of malice as he hoofed the ground threateningly.
Harry took a step back and held up his palms, “No, wait! I just… I just want him to be wrong…”
Bane’s eyes flashed malevolently for a moment, but he exhaled deeply and his voice was calm once more when he spoke, “I understand.”
A tiny flicker of hope sparked somewhere in Harry’s stomach, and he remembered the last bit of advice Firenze had given him not two days earlier… If all else fails, seek Bane… “What does it mean when a centaur has disappeared from the skies?” he asked, a forced calm in his voice.
“They have died.” He said it calmly, as if he were discussing the weather, and Harry felt his mouth fall open and the breath escape his body. “But Sabriel is not dead.”
Harry nearly fell forward as he inhaled again, “She’s not?”
“She can no longer be read through the Great Centaur, but I have seen her in the Virgin.” He spoke as if this made perfect sense.
Harry furrowed his brows, trying desperately to remember Astronomy, “The Great Centaur? That’s… that’s Sagittarius, right? And the Virgin must be Virgo? How can you read her in Virgo?”
“Your trivial names for the stars are an insult, human.” Bane snapped back through gritted teeth, and he took a long pause before he could continue again without malice in his voice, “Sabriel is in hiding.”
“What does that—“
“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME, THIEF!” Bane snarled, and Harry nearly found himself snarling back at being called ‘thief’ again, but quickly calmed his expression. “Sabriel is a centaur hiding among humans; she must renounce her herd to save it, which is why she is in the Virgin – she serves ready to give all of herself for her family.”
Harry waited for a moment to make sure Bane had finished talking this time, “Why doesn’t Ronan see her in the Virgin?”
Bane sighed deeply, and he looked troubled for the first time Harry could recall, “Ronan reads the skies differently. He believes Mercury in the Great Centaur brings a message of despair rather than hope.”
It was a strange moment as Harry considered the possibility that Bane might actually be more optimistic than Ronan, who was much calmer and seemingly wiser than Bane and his quick temper. “But Bane,” Harry began carefully, “how Sean is hiding among the humans… she is one…” The thought was something that had always bothered him, but Sean refused to discuss it whenever he asked – like she was afraid he would see something wrong with her, or maybe see too much of her altogether.
There was a flash of Bane’s dark eyes and Harry took an instinctually protective step away from the centaur, but his shoulder’s relaxed suddenly and his voice was calm, “What makes you human, thief?” Harry didn’t respond and kept his distance. “Is it your bones? Your flesh? What makes you human and I centaur?”
“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, confused beyond polite niceties.
Bane moved his arms to place his hands behind his back, reminding Harry very much of Ronan. “You have insulted my cousin.”
Insult? How did he insult her? Oh… “But she is human. Biologically, physically, mentally, whatever. She’s human.” The argument was maddeningly illogical and Harry wondered what Bane meant by it.
Bane continued on as if Harry had not responded, which was most definitely in his best interests. “I have seen creatures in these woods which appear to be of one species, but are of another. Do you understand?” There was a subtle anger in his voice, which Harry supposed he was trying very hard to control, and a hint of frustration at Harry’s confusion - like he wasn’t understanding on purpose.
“Ahm, I don’t think so.”
Bane neighed in what might have been a false laugh, “You have never seen a human pretending to be a dog…”
“But he was an Animagus, like Sean!”
“Or a kneazle pretending to be a cat…”
“Do what?”
“Or a monster pretending to be a man?” Bane’s eyes flashed once more, but Harry knew Bane’s hatred was not directed at him.
Harry swallowed hard, “Voldemort.” Bane nodded and he continued with a clenched jaw, “What does Voldemort have to do with Sean?” Harry could not hide the abhorrence in his own voice this time.
Bane moved ever-so-slightly so a small beam of sunlight made the quiver and bow strapped upon his back clearly visible, and Harry understood the warning. “They have both pretended to be human when they are not.” Harry wanted to scream at Bane and the absurdity of it all – she is human! Is he mad? He had seen her body, they had shared a bed…she is human! Before he could say any of this (thankfully), Bane continued, “It is true that Sabriel was born of your kind,” he almost sneered as if he had said a foul word, “but she has always been centaur.
“She had been taught to fight every instinct she has – every truth in her soul, because she was raised among humans…” Bane’s anger abated suddenly and his voice softened, “but she is a Warrior, and she fought you well.”
Harry’s hands were clenched in fists and his body had gone rigid with tension, and he struggled to keep his voice even. “I… don’t… understand…”
“You are human because you have a human soul. Your body could be mangled beyond repair,” Bane almost smiled as he said this, “but you would still see your world as only a human can. Sabriel has a centaurian soul. She will always see the world in accord with her true nature.” Bane looked at Harry as if this had settled the matter, but Harry was still unconvinced and it must have shown on his face. “You cannot see things as she does, and she resents this.”
It was as if something large and hard had fallen in the pit of Harry’s stomach; a sort of stone of realization that Bane was somehow, inexplicably right. “Everyone argues…” he mumbled, and he had the returned feeling of trying to convince himself more than the other party.
“Sabriel was raised with your kind,” Bane grimaced, “so she understands you, but she was born of our kind,” he thrust his chest out proudly, “and will always truly belong with the herd.”
“But she’s still… human…” Harry muttered feebly. As much as he hated to admit it, Bane had a point; unless they were in private, Sean was always withdrawn… That’s not true, he told himself firmly, but another small voice in his head popped up – you’re right, she was always withdrawn no matter the situation. Sean had a guard about her, not a protection, mind you, but still a guard… something separating her from everyone else. There had been only two times Harry had ever seen her without this guard, and he remembered thinking Sean had never looked more beautiful… or more terrifying… A thought dawned on Harry - she had looked like Ronan only two days earlier, a centaur so overcome with grief they looked almost human for a few majestic and horrific moments.
“Sabriel is centaur. Sean is her protection, that is all.” Bane frowned at Harry, though it might have been a poor attempt at looking sympathetic.
Harry let himself fall back and sit on the overturned tree trunk he had avoided earlier; the thoughts running through his brain were mutinous and enraging – a centaur he had met maybe twice in his life just explained his relationship with the woman he loved and why it was so bloody mucked up, whereas Harry had been trying to figure it out for years. He wanted to say ‘thank you’ to Bane, but all that came out was a strange grunting noise.
Bane stepped forward and spoke in a very low, very profound tone, “Sabriel will be back, human, she will.” Harry slowly managed to nod his thanks, and Bane turned away to continue watch the two wolves play in the clearing, “I wonder if her color will have returned when she does…” he muttered quietly to himself.
Harry picked his head up and gazed at Bane, nonplussed, “What?”
ack! i love it! anyway, please see the response page for more info from me and while you're there - please review!
a/n: i'm a day late, agh! sorry, i'm on vacation and thought yesterday was saturday (i know, i know).
18: Run Sabriel
He was running again. It seemed like that’s all he did anymore while on this particular case – run from one place to the next. It had taken him the better part of an hour to leave the groundskeeper’s home, but Hagrid finally bade him goodbye with a comment that the dog had been following Firenze around lately and he would be likely to find her with him, so Harry was running again. He hit the castle entrance and nearly slid across the stone as the snow that covered his shoes turned to water, and he cursed loudly in the thankfully deserted entrance hall (nearly all the students had left for Christmas vacation the day after they found Neville, almost a week earlier).
Harry slowed his pace as he turned down the hall, headed for classroom eleven with his heaving breaths and quick steps as company. He raised his fist to knock on the large doors, but froze suddenly as voices crept under the doorway and into the hall. “Are you sure he knows?” asked a deep, calm voice that wasn’t entirely human – Firenze.
“He saw me – he knows I’m here.” Also a low voice but somewhat younger, slightly higher pitched and more morose in tone, and he did not recognize it.
“Is there nothing I can do…?”
Harry took out his wand and mumbled an incoherent spell, magnifying the voices inside the classroom while minimizing the noise outside and he leaned closer to the door. “You have done so much already – I cannot ask any more of you.”
“Your father—”
“My father will know of your courage and your sacrifice, and that is all he needs to know.”
There was a moment’s pause in the conversation, “How will you leave?”
The younger sighed heavily, “Tenebrus has agreed to take me.”
“Tenebrus? Is he to be trusted?”
“I know how you feel about his kind, but he has not given me any reason to doubt him.”
“You conversed with him in true form?”
“I did.” Silence fell again as Harry imagined Firenze considering the younger.
“I have no choice but to concede to your instincts.”
“You are the one who gave them to me, old friend.”
“Do not repeat that in front of your father.” He could almost hear Firenze smiling.
“My father would do well to remember his duties to his brother.”
Another calm silence fell, and Harry seized the opportunity and knocked on the door – he would have to make himself known before the conversation ended. Before Firenze could respond, he opened the door and looked inside, desperately hoping to see either a great black wolf or the statuesque figure of Sean (if she had not had time to transfigure) talking to Firenze. His heart dropped to his stomach when instead, Harry saw Firenze with a hand resting gently on the shoulder of a young man, too old to be a student, with shocking bleach blonde hair.
The man stepped back to let Firenze’s arm return to him and gaze upon their interrupter, and Harry considered him fully. The man looked close to Harry in age - no more than twenty-five - and was broad-shouldered and tall, giving off the sense that he was not easily put down in a fight. The young man’s face had a familiar kindness to it that Harry couldn’t seem to place, and his Prussian blue eyes twinkled in the dark classroom. It suddenly occurred to Harry that this man was evaluating him just has Harry had been doing, and as the thought crossed his mind the young man turned back to Firenze.
“Thank you again, Firenze.” He bowed his head respectfully towards the centaur.
Firenze returned the gesture, “I hope to see you again soon, Henry.”
The man called Henry forced a quick smile, then nodded to Harry and ran a hand through his hair as he exited the room. Harry stared at the door for a few moments, his brain trying to tell him something he didn’t quite understand.
“You’ve resumed your true form again, Harry Potter.”
“Yes…” Harry mumbled, slowly turning back to face Firenze. “Who was that?”
“An old friend. How can I help you?” Firenze bore an expression of polite intrigue.
Harry looked over his shoulder to stare at the door once again, “You, you don’t already know?” Something clicked inside him as he looked back around at Firenze, “You do already know… my true form…”
Firenze’s attractive face seemed to go rigid, and Harry knew he was right. He threw himself at the doors and wrenched them open, then began running pell-mell down the corridor as fast as he could, ignoring Firenze’s dying calls of his name. A door to his right flew open, and Professor McGonagall and another man he did not know came flying out of the staff room into the corridor. “What is the meaning of this?” McGonagall screeched, “Potter? What are you doing here? Potter? Potter!” McGonagall screamed at his back.
Harry managed to yell a few apologies and something like “Ministry of Magic” over his shoulder, but he did not slow down. He turned and ran out of the Entrance Hall, the man called Henry (easily visible in the darkness, owing to his hair) was walking about a hundred meters ahead towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry grinned, he was going to make it to her… he was going to get to see Sean again… A crash came from his right and Harry tumbled into the snow on the ground as he tripped over his own feet in shock, he looked around for the figure of the man first, which had also stopped and spun around to find the cause of the noise. McGonagall and the other professor were coming out of the Entrance Hall now, and Harry scrambled to his feet as a deep voice echoed across the grounds, “RUN, SABRIEL! YOU CANNOT BE TAKEN!” It was Firenze; he had thrown open his windows and was yelling madly into the night, “RUN, SABRIEL, DO NOT TURN BACK!”
He was on his feet and running again, McGonagall’s indignant screams now combining with Firenze’s yells to encourage Harry to run faster, faster, faster… He just had to get close enough to stop her from Apparating; the professors would never travel into the Forest and leave the school unattended – they would guard the grounds and probably call the Ministry, but that would be ages from now. He pushed on, adrenaline coursing through his veins and preventing any pain from impeding his objective. She was only twenty paces ahead as she entered the Forest… he was going to make it to her…
Harry leapt through the trees and into the Forbidden Forest behind her, but she showed no signs of slowing. She knows, he thought, she can hear me… I’m too close for her to have time to Apparate or transfigure… so they kept running. They were taking paths that weaved in and out of the brush, dodging fallen tree branches or rotting trunks as darkness edged in closer around them. “Ah!” Sean cried out somewhere up ahead, and Harry’s excitement turned to worry.
He was upon her within seconds, but only managed a glimpse of the Henry’s body crumpled on the ground, grasping his ankle that had twisted in an upturned tree root previously disguised in snow before a jet of red light hit him square in the chest and he was out.
“Rennervate.”
Harry woke up with a start and his body tried to jerk, but it was bound too tightly for free movement. He was standing, but there was something large and uncomfortable against his back and he realized he was bound to a tree in the Forbidden Forest. The man called Henry was glaring at him, his wand pointed directly at Harry’s throat, and Harry did not understand, “What the ruddy hell is going on?” he yelled.
“That’s what I was about to ask you,” the young man replied, his voice dripping with malice.
Harry found himself panting for breath, “Sean?”
The young man’s eyes became thin and calculating, and he shoved his wand into his belt before his forefinger began to twitch. It was a disturbing image to watch, as the man’s arms, shoulders, hands, and waist began to shrink while his jaw line receded and his chest filled out. Harry tried to watch only his face as the eyebrows grew thin, eyes became more pronounced and almond-shaped, nose shrunk, lips grew fuller, and skin became smooth and pale. He had watched Sean transfigure too many times to count, but he had never seen her change sexes before and he had the urge to wretch all over the forest floor. He closed his eyes and tried to force his stomach contents to remain where they were.
“When did you figure it out?” It was her voice – Sean’s voice, he hadn’t heard it for so long.
He opened his eyes and stared back at her sapphire eyes sparkling in the darkness, and a sensation of warmth began to spread throughout his body. “Bane… Bane told me your Animagus had changed to black and I remembered Hagrid’s new dog, Nox…” he said breathlessly.
Sean grimaced, “Yes, well, I couldn’t transfigure until my leg had healed.” There was something different about her, something off… “Why are you here?” she snapped suddenly, her voice echoing through the trees.
Harry started, stunned by her dramatic change in tone, “I thought you might be in trouble…” he retorted, a hint of annoyance in his voice for her lack of graciousness – wasn’t she excited to see him? And then he remembered their last encounter and sighed heavily, “Kingsley asked Ron and I to find you…”
Sean’s midnight eyes grew wide and flickered dangerously, “Is Ron here now? Close? WHERE IS HE?” she howled.
Harry’s mouth was agape in shock, and his excitement at seeing Sean started to ebb – giving way to the reality of the situation... he was bound to a tree, wandless, and his ex-girlfriend, who hadn’t been seen or heard from in nearly a month and had possibly attacked her current boyfriend, was raving at him wildly… “Sean, what’s going on here?” he asked with the calmest voice he could collect.
There was the familiar crackle of brush under a heel, and Sean spun around madly looking for the intruder. When she could not seem to see or sniff another person, she rounded back on Harry, “If you value your life you will not seek me again, do you understand?” He recognized the centaurian argot, but did not respond. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” Sean screamed at him, her wand poking his chest and her nose barely an inch from his.
There were no words that came to Harry now, no thoughts – it seemed as if his whole body was too shocked to respond. He locked eyes with Sean, desperately searching for some hint of her former self and then he saw it – fear. Unadulterated, unshakable terror had a full grip on Sean and was ripping her apart as tears, dark as her irises, formed at the corners of her eyes.
Sean turned away from him, the tips of her black hair slapped him as she whipped about. Her whole body seemed tense as he clenched her fists on either side of her hips with her shoulders pulled up to her ears, and he almost expected to hear the crack of a breaking wand. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she pointed her wand directly at the sky and howled “MORSMORDRE!” while Harry’s cries of defiance went unheard.
A great, green skull-and-serpent illuminated the wood above them, and Harry tore his gaze from the sky overhead back to Sean, his entire face contorted with panicked and confused rage. “WHY?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! LOOK AT ME!” he screeched, his body shaking in anticipation of what he knew was coming next - the Killing Curse.
“Do not come looking for me.” This statement was completely illogical, especially since dead men can’t exactly look for things, Harry thought furiously. “I’m so sorry…” Sean’s voice cracked, and she spun on her heels and Disapparated… just as the first of many screams pierced the emblazoned sky above.
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18: Run Sabriel
He was running again. It seemed like that’s all he did anymore while on this particular case – run from one place to the next. It had taken him the better part of an hour to leave the groundskeeper’s home, but Hagrid finally bade him goodbye with a comment that the dog had been following Firenze around lately and he would be likely to find her with him, so Harry was running again. He hit the castle entrance and nearly slid across the stone as the snow that covered his shoes turned to water, and he cursed loudly in the thankfully deserted entrance hall (nearly all the students had left for Christmas vacation the day after they found Neville, almost a week earlier).
Harry slowed his pace as he turned down the hall, headed for classroom eleven with his heaving breaths and quick steps as company. He raised his fist to knock on the large doors, but froze suddenly as voices crept under the doorway and into the hall. “Are you sure he knows?” asked a deep, calm voice that wasn’t entirely human – Firenze.
“He saw me – he knows I’m here.” Also a low voice but somewhat younger, slightly higher pitched and more morose in tone, and he did not recognize it.
“Is there nothing I can do…?”
Harry took out his wand and mumbled an incoherent spell, magnifying the voices inside the classroom while minimizing the noise outside and he leaned closer to the door. “You have done so much already – I cannot ask any more of you.”
“Your father—”
“My father will know of your courage and your sacrifice, and that is all he needs to know.”
There was a moment’s pause in the conversation, “How will you leave?”
The younger sighed heavily, “Tenebrus has agreed to take me.”
“Tenebrus? Is he to be trusted?”
“I know how you feel about his kind, but he has not given me any reason to doubt him.”
“You conversed with him in true form?”
“I did.” Silence fell again as Harry imagined Firenze considering the younger.
“I have no choice but to concede to your instincts.”
“You are the one who gave them to me, old friend.”
“Do not repeat that in front of your father.” He could almost hear Firenze smiling.
“My father would do well to remember his duties to his brother.”
Another calm silence fell, and Harry seized the opportunity and knocked on the door – he would have to make himself known before the conversation ended. Before Firenze could respond, he opened the door and looked inside, desperately hoping to see either a great black wolf or the statuesque figure of Sean (if she had not had time to transfigure) talking to Firenze. His heart dropped to his stomach when instead, Harry saw Firenze with a hand resting gently on the shoulder of a young man, too old to be a student, with shocking bleach blonde hair.
The man stepped back to let Firenze’s arm return to him and gaze upon their interrupter, and Harry considered him fully. The man looked close to Harry in age - no more than twenty-five - and was broad-shouldered and tall, giving off the sense that he was not easily put down in a fight. The young man’s face had a familiar kindness to it that Harry couldn’t seem to place, and his Prussian blue eyes twinkled in the dark classroom. It suddenly occurred to Harry that this man was evaluating him just has Harry had been doing, and as the thought crossed his mind the young man turned back to Firenze.
“Thank you again, Firenze.” He bowed his head respectfully towards the centaur.
Firenze returned the gesture, “I hope to see you again soon, Henry.”
The man called Henry forced a quick smile, then nodded to Harry and ran a hand through his hair as he exited the room. Harry stared at the door for a few moments, his brain trying to tell him something he didn’t quite understand.
“You’ve resumed your true form again, Harry Potter.”
“Yes…” Harry mumbled, slowly turning back to face Firenze. “Who was that?”
“An old friend. How can I help you?” Firenze bore an expression of polite intrigue.
Harry looked over his shoulder to stare at the door once again, “You, you don’t already know?” Something clicked inside him as he looked back around at Firenze, “You do already know… my true form…”
Firenze’s attractive face seemed to go rigid, and Harry knew he was right. He threw himself at the doors and wrenched them open, then began running pell-mell down the corridor as fast as he could, ignoring Firenze’s dying calls of his name. A door to his right flew open, and Professor McGonagall and another man he did not know came flying out of the staff room into the corridor. “What is the meaning of this?” McGonagall screeched, “Potter? What are you doing here? Potter? Potter!” McGonagall screamed at his back.
Harry managed to yell a few apologies and something like “Ministry of Magic” over his shoulder, but he did not slow down. He turned and ran out of the Entrance Hall, the man called Henry (easily visible in the darkness, owing to his hair) was walking about a hundred meters ahead towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry grinned, he was going to make it to her… he was going to get to see Sean again… A crash came from his right and Harry tumbled into the snow on the ground as he tripped over his own feet in shock, he looked around for the figure of the man first, which had also stopped and spun around to find the cause of the noise. McGonagall and the other professor were coming out of the Entrance Hall now, and Harry scrambled to his feet as a deep voice echoed across the grounds, “RUN, SABRIEL! YOU CANNOT BE TAKEN!” It was Firenze; he had thrown open his windows and was yelling madly into the night, “RUN, SABRIEL, DO NOT TURN BACK!”
He was on his feet and running again, McGonagall’s indignant screams now combining with Firenze’s yells to encourage Harry to run faster, faster, faster… He just had to get close enough to stop her from Apparating; the professors would never travel into the Forest and leave the school unattended – they would guard the grounds and probably call the Ministry, but that would be ages from now. He pushed on, adrenaline coursing through his veins and preventing any pain from impeding his objective. She was only twenty paces ahead as she entered the Forest… he was going to make it to her…
Harry leapt through the trees and into the Forbidden Forest behind her, but she showed no signs of slowing. She knows, he thought, she can hear me… I’m too close for her to have time to Apparate or transfigure… so they kept running. They were taking paths that weaved in and out of the brush, dodging fallen tree branches or rotting trunks as darkness edged in closer around them. “Ah!” Sean cried out somewhere up ahead, and Harry’s excitement turned to worry.
He was upon her within seconds, but only managed a glimpse of the Henry’s body crumpled on the ground, grasping his ankle that had twisted in an upturned tree root previously disguised in snow before a jet of red light hit him square in the chest and he was out.
“Rennervate.”
Harry woke up with a start and his body tried to jerk, but it was bound too tightly for free movement. He was standing, but there was something large and uncomfortable against his back and he realized he was bound to a tree in the Forbidden Forest. The man called Henry was glaring at him, his wand pointed directly at Harry’s throat, and Harry did not understand, “What the ruddy hell is going on?” he yelled.
“That’s what I was about to ask you,” the young man replied, his voice dripping with malice.
Harry found himself panting for breath, “Sean?”
The young man’s eyes became thin and calculating, and he shoved his wand into his belt before his forefinger began to twitch. It was a disturbing image to watch, as the man’s arms, shoulders, hands, and waist began to shrink while his jaw line receded and his chest filled out. Harry tried to watch only his face as the eyebrows grew thin, eyes became more pronounced and almond-shaped, nose shrunk, lips grew fuller, and skin became smooth and pale. He had watched Sean transfigure too many times to count, but he had never seen her change sexes before and he had the urge to wretch all over the forest floor. He closed his eyes and tried to force his stomach contents to remain where they were.
“When did you figure it out?” It was her voice – Sean’s voice, he hadn’t heard it for so long.
He opened his eyes and stared back at her sapphire eyes sparkling in the darkness, and a sensation of warmth began to spread throughout his body. “Bane… Bane told me your Animagus had changed to black and I remembered Hagrid’s new dog, Nox…” he said breathlessly.
Sean grimaced, “Yes, well, I couldn’t transfigure until my leg had healed.” There was something different about her, something off… “Why are you here?” she snapped suddenly, her voice echoing through the trees.
Harry started, stunned by her dramatic change in tone, “I thought you might be in trouble…” he retorted, a hint of annoyance in his voice for her lack of graciousness – wasn’t she excited to see him? And then he remembered their last encounter and sighed heavily, “Kingsley asked Ron and I to find you…”
Sean’s midnight eyes grew wide and flickered dangerously, “Is Ron here now? Close? WHERE IS HE?” she howled.
Harry’s mouth was agape in shock, and his excitement at seeing Sean started to ebb – giving way to the reality of the situation... he was bound to a tree, wandless, and his ex-girlfriend, who hadn’t been seen or heard from in nearly a month and had possibly attacked her current boyfriend, was raving at him wildly… “Sean, what’s going on here?” he asked with the calmest voice he could collect.
There was the familiar crackle of brush under a heel, and Sean spun around madly looking for the intruder. When she could not seem to see or sniff another person, she rounded back on Harry, “If you value your life you will not seek me again, do you understand?” He recognized the centaurian argot, but did not respond. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” Sean screamed at him, her wand poking his chest and her nose barely an inch from his.
There were no words that came to Harry now, no thoughts – it seemed as if his whole body was too shocked to respond. He locked eyes with Sean, desperately searching for some hint of her former self and then he saw it – fear. Unadulterated, unshakable terror had a full grip on Sean and was ripping her apart as tears, dark as her irises, formed at the corners of her eyes.
Sean turned away from him, the tips of her black hair slapped him as she whipped about. Her whole body seemed tense as he clenched her fists on either side of her hips with her shoulders pulled up to her ears, and he almost expected to hear the crack of a breaking wand. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she pointed her wand directly at the sky and howled “MORSMORDRE!” while Harry’s cries of defiance went unheard.
A great, green skull-and-serpent illuminated the wood above them, and Harry tore his gaze from the sky overhead back to Sean, his entire face contorted with panicked and confused rage. “WHY?! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! LOOK AT ME!” he screeched, his body shaking in anticipation of what he knew was coming next - the Killing Curse.
“Do not come looking for me.” This statement was completely illogical, especially since dead men can’t exactly look for things, Harry thought furiously. “I’m so sorry…” Sean’s voice cracked, and she spun on her heels and Disapparated… just as the first of many screams pierced the emblazoned sky above.
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a/n: this chapter was a pain in the butt to post. apparently, the system doesn't recognize margins (grr), so sorry about the daily prophet section being all messy.
19: The Return
Hogsmeade succumbed to terror last night as the
sky over the Forbidden Forest, adjacent to the grounds of
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was
emblazoned with the Dark Mark. This symbol has not been
seen in nearly six years, since the fall of the Dark Wizard
Tom Riddle (also known as “Lord Voldemort”), and was
frequently cast by his followers (“Death Eaters”) after
they had committed heinous acts - including use of the
Killing Curse. While the Ministry of Magic confirms there
was no foul play, they have yet to apprehend the perpetrator
of this alarming incident. Madame Puddifoot, a local
resident and shopkeeper, explains the terror she felt: “I
was getting ready for bed when I saw a bright green light
out the window. I thought it was maybe one of the Weasley’s
employees, just setting off a few late-Boxing Day wiz-
bangs; but then I heard yelling and screaming coming from
the other shops and I went to the window and saw - oh,
it’s just too awful!”
The Ministry of Magic was soon inundated with
owls from Hogsmeade residents, but officials only disp-
atched a handful of first tier employees from the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement – owing to the
factthat two Aurors were already on-hand in Hogsmeade.
The Daily Prophet can exclusively report that both
Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter of the Auror Office
were present in Hogsmeade at the time the Dark Mark
was cast, and a third Auror, Bruce Savage, had
previously been on detail with Potter and Weasley until
Christmas Eve. (Savage was recently given a posthumous
Order of Merlin, Second Class for his loyal service to
the Ministry of Magic after his sudden passing on
Christmas Day.)
The Ministry of Magic refused to comment on
the reason for the presence of Aurors in Hogsmede, but
several eye witnesses report that Weasley and Savage
had taken up room since mid-December, and all three
Aurors were seen visiting Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry on several occasions. As for the Wizarding
school, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall does not
confirm nor deny the presence of Aurors in the castle,
but does assure all parents that the school itself was not
harmed or attacked to any degree and the students at
the school are safe (most of the school’s student population
had left on December 23 to return to their respective
homes for the duration of the holidays).
Also, suspicions have been raised about the removal
of Neville Longbottom, a professor at Hogwarts, to St.
Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and
his potential involvement in the Dark Magic that occurred
just six days following his leave. Longbottom, a one-time
Auror trainee, left his work at the Ministry of Magic nearly
three years ago with a personal invitation to join the
Hogwarts Staff as Herbology professor from the Deputy
Headmistress, Pomona Sprout. While Longbottom’s
condition at St. Mungo’s has been marked Classified, an
anonymous hospital insider claims Longbottom was
admitted to the Allegra Lecteur Ward in Spell Damage and
remains in critical care. Additionally, the Minister of Magic
himself has ordered two Aurors to be stationed outside the
Ward, but whether this decision has been made for
Longbottom’s protection or that of the other patients
remains to be seen. Similarly, Minister Shacklebolt assures
the Wizarding Community that (ctd. page 3, column 2)
Sean eyed the man sitting beside her, wondering if he might wake if she were to try and snatch the paper from under his arm to continue reading. Her hand twitched in vain, longing to finish the story on recent events, but she simply sighed to herself and ran her still hand through her long, scarlet waves. Picking her eyes up, Sean took in the scene around her once more, trying to stiffen her resolve – there was a dark haired man nearly in tears as he sat, squashed and stuck, inside an abnormally large cauldron that might have been trying to eat him. An elderly woman with hair so white it was bluing on the ends had sprouted feathers all over her upper body and was drifting off to sleep with her cotton-ball head buried under a winged-arm. Sean came across the next patients and had to hide a smirk; two young girls were wailing as their father tried to yell over them to the Welcome Witch, “WE BOUGHT IT IN A MUGGLE JOKE SHOP, BUT IT’S OBVIOUSLY DARK MAGIC! THE WIFE DIDN’T WANT ME TO TRY ANY COUNTER-CURSES JUST IN CASE!” He was now pointing frantically towards his two daughters, who were apparently caught in a simple Chinese Finger-Trap and convinced they would be conjoined forever. There was a fleeting moment inside her in which Sean thought she should go and offer help, but she knew better; drawing attention to oneself when attempting to keep a low profile was probably not the wisest course of action. So, Sean re-settled herself in her seat and waited, trying desperately to numb-out the panicked and pained emotions trying to beat themselves inside her.
She had been waiting nearly an hour for Desdemona Dalit, a Healer from the Allegra Lecteur Ward, to make her usual trip to the ground floor to gossip with the Welcome Witch on her break. Sean had been watching Desdemona in and out of a week as she stationed herself inside St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, appearing as a different ‘family visitor’ each day (except for her second day, in which she had to change identities midway through her observations since the patient’s real family showed up and insisted they did not have an estranged cousin Andrew, the lousy gits). Checking her watch again, Sean began to bounce her knee up and down in anticipation – Desdemona had yet to be late for her break, and she was cutting it awfully close. Of course she has to be late today, Sean scowled to herself, and a raw thought (one she had been trying desperately to avoid) forced its way into her mind. What if it was too late? What if she had missed something important? It was stupid to try and observe Hogwarts and the hospital at the same time, she told herself, outright stupid; and how she ever convinced herself to talk to Firenze before leaving for good was just beyond comprehension. What the bloody hell was I thinking? She had jeopardized everything – everything – she had been working on the last month, including all the information she gathered and the safety of her family. If Harry figures it out, then that’s it – it’s all over. If he’s figured it out, then I’m going to have to give myself up. It was a loathsome idea, so much so that it made her stomach flip and she closed her eyes and begged her last meal to remain in its place for the time being.
“Do you need a Calming Draught, dear?” a high-pitched, but sweet voice asked suddenly.
“What?” Sean started, then opened her eyes to see a small, plump little witch with gray-flecked golden curls smiling beside her. “Oh,” Sean stopped bouncing her knee, “Oh, no, I’m fine – just waiting for my mum to get here so we can go and see my sister.”
Desdemona Dalit smiled and nodded, “Why don’t you try to tea room on the fifth floor, much more comfortable.”
Sean returned her smile and stood up, tugging and the sleeves of her charcoal, hooded sweater until she could tuck the cuffs beneath her fingers. “Thank you, madam, I’ll do that.”
“Lift’s right over there, dearie. It’s usually just for Healers, but I think you really need that spot of tea.” Desdemona Dalit winked gently pointed to the end of the hall, then turned to join the Welcome Witch behind her counter after Sean nodded her thanks. Sean ambled slowly towards the place the Healer had pointed until she was out of viewing range, then hastily picked up her speed until she slid in between the closing doors of the elevator, which was (thankfully) empty. There was a small pang of guilt towards Desdemona Dalit, but she couldn’t think about that now – she needed to do this before… Well, just before… She shoved her finger into the button for level four, then squeezed her eyes shut as she concentrated on Desdemona Dalit’s most recent appearance and her forefinger twitched. There were seconds, maybe less, before the doors of the lift were going to clang open, and she whipped out her wand and muttered “Novo vestis” until her sweatshirt, jeans, and trainers were suddenly a crisp, lime green uniform with matching pumps. Sean had just stored her wand in the front pocket of her Healer’s robe when the lift jingled to a stop and a polite witch’s voice announced “Fourth Floor: Spell Damage, incorporating the Janus Thickey Ward for long-term residents.”
With a great gulp that seemed to stick in her throat, Sean stepped onto the floor determinedly, heading straight for the double doors on the left corridor. As expected, two foreboding-looking men in long, dark traveling cloaks met her gaze and moved to block the entrance to the ward. “Thought you were going down to have a chat with Adelphie?” the taller of the two men questioned, his heavy brow raised in concern.
“She’s had a family emergency, had to go back to Tinworth straightaway. Now, if you don’t mind, Williamson.” Sean said in Desdemona’s high, sing-song voice, adding just a hint of frustration.
“What kind of 'family emergency'?” the other Auror inquired with his blonde hair falling in front of his narrowed eyes.
Sean sighed in exasperation, “Her sister is going through a divorce and she had to tend to her, satisfied?” The gentility had left Desdemona’s voice now, they were wasting the precious little time Sean had before the real Desdemona returned.
Williamson shrugged and turned toward his partner, “That’s true, Adelphie told me herself the other day.”
“Well then, I suggest you move before I send for Proudfoot and he demerits the both of you for interrupting Healer work.” Sean placed Desdemona’s hands on her hips with a loud “Humpf!” as both men stepped aside despairingly. “Thank you Williamson, Duquesne. Alohomora!” She nodded to both Aurors before magically unlocking the door, then she tossed her head back as she strode through the double doors under the sign “Allegra Lecteur Ward: Critical Care”.
There was an immediate sense of gravitas that enveloped her whole being, and she Felt suddenly static and impassive as the doors clanged shut behind her and blocked the intense suspicion she had been Experiencing from Williamson and Duquesne. There was no pain in this part of the hospital – no sickening agony she had to try to ignore; only morose intensity prevailed here. The walls of the ward were a stark white that made Sean’s eyes water as she looked upon them, as if she had never seen the color properly before. The ward’s rectangular shape gave it an eerie sort of symmetry, with ten beds lining the walls on either side that each had their own set of tables covered in various potions, healing instruments and tools. Nearly half the beds were hidden behind hospital curtains - which Sean figured must be the newest and most critical patients, while the rest of the beds had marks on their charts that indicated the ward they would be discharged to for further care. However, all the somber details paled in comparison to the overwhelming, deafening silence that seemed to press upon her eardrums, filling the ward with an unequivocal sense of tragedy and heartbreak.
Sean swallowed the dread that seemed to have risen into her throat, and felt it hit the bottom of her stomach with an echoing rumble only she could hear. Desdemona Dalit’s lime green pumps click-clacked on the tile flooring as she walked the line between the rows of the grievously injured, finally stopping after what felt like an eternity at the last (and therefore most protected) bed – shrouded in a curtain. The thenar muscle in her right hand began to twitch as she raised it to pull back the drape, grasping the cloth so tightly she could feel her fingernails pressing into her skin through the curtain. Sean didn’t hear the jangle of the curtain hooks as she yanked the cover back, but instead her rapid heartbeats thudded between her ears as she felt her entire being crumple to sit beside the limp body of Neville Longbottom.
“Oh, God, Neville… What have you done?” Sean whispered, her own voice returned to her. If it weren’t for their location she might have been able to convince herself that he was sleeping, but there was no denying his condition as he lay unconscious beside her. There was a clear bubble around his nose and mouth that might have resembled a Bubble-Head Charm, though it kept contracting at equal intervals to push oxygen into his nostrils and slightly parted lips. His lips, she noticed, were heavily chapped from the dry air and carbon dioxide that must have continually passed over them since his arrival, and she felt an extraordinary amount of guilt as she lightly touched the softness of her own mouth. Sean tugged gently on the top of the standard-issue blanket and tucked it just below his underarms, then began to smooth out the wrinkles as his heart beat slowly, yet steadily, against her hand. Brushing his umber hair off his forehead, Sean nearly smiled when she noticed the growth of his hair over the tops of his ears and down the nape of his neck – she nearly smiled, but did not. Instead, she swallowed hard.
“I didn’t want this… I never meant for this to happen…” She forced herself to look away – if she was going to do what she came to do, she wouldn’t be able to muster the courage if she continued to stare at his comatose body. Sean noticed his own beside table for the first time, laden with a multitude of multicolored potions, several healing instruments she had never seen before, a Sneakoscope that remained (thankfully) still, and a golden pocket watch (that had once belonged to Neville’s Uncle Algie) that told her nearly half of Desdemona’s break was gone. “I came here because I need to tell you something; I need you to hear this, even if you can’t… A long time ago, you told me that you were ‘happy just to be nominated’ – that second place was good enough for you... You’re wrong,” Sean turned her head back to gaze into his eye sockets and imagine his kind, brown eyes staring up at her, “and I was wrong for ever letting you think so.”
Leaning forward in sincerity and urgency, she moved both of her hands to encase his right, “You – are – no one’s silver medal, Neville Longbottom, d’you hear me? You are the kindest and most decent man I know, and you have meant more to me than I think you will ever understand. I was a mess – a walking train wreck – and you… you saved me from the person I was becoming.” Sean exhaled heavily and removed her right hand from the top of Neville’s to brush Desdemona’s tight, golden curls out of her face, “I don’t know how much this may mean to you after… after everything that’s happened, but I am so very, very sorry, Neville. You have done so much for me – and Teddy – and I couldn’t give you what you needed. I tried, though, I tried like hell to love you – but I don’t suppose that’s really worth anything… I tried to convince myself that I was in love with you as deeply as I knew you loved me, but I couldn’t.”
Self-disgust was flowing though her veins, now, in lieu of blood, and her head sank down as she stared at their intertwined hands. “I think, after a while…” she was whispering now, “I thought… I hoped… maybe you could love me enough for the both of us. But I was wrong.” She picked up her head, her voice gaining strength again, “I can never make up for what I’ve done, and I wouldn’t be so callous as to ask for your forgiveness... I know the choices I’ve made are inexcusable and unforgivable.” She let her head lean to the side softly, “I know you think that you’re lucky to be a part of my life, but I’m the lucky one. I am inexplicably blessed to have shared the past few years with you, and I just hope that one day… however far away… we can be friends…” Sean removed her left hand and placed it softly on Neville’s forehead, then ran in back through his hair and carefully leaned in to kiss the spot she had just touched. She touched her forehead to his and closed her eyes, “I’m sorry, Neville. I love you.”
A deafening crash shook the room as Sean’s eyes flew open just in time to see the flash of orange light that sent her soaring into the wall at the end of the ward.
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19: The Return
Hogsmeade succumbed to terror last night as the
sky over the Forbidden Forest, adjacent to the grounds of
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was
emblazoned with the Dark Mark. This symbol has not been
seen in nearly six years, since the fall of the Dark Wizard
Tom Riddle (also known as “Lord Voldemort”), and was
frequently cast by his followers (“Death Eaters”) after
they had committed heinous acts - including use of the
Killing Curse. While the Ministry of Magic confirms there
was no foul play, they have yet to apprehend the perpetrator
of this alarming incident. Madame Puddifoot, a local
resident and shopkeeper, explains the terror she felt: “I
was getting ready for bed when I saw a bright green light
out the window. I thought it was maybe one of the Weasley’s
employees, just setting off a few late-Boxing Day wiz-
bangs; but then I heard yelling and screaming coming from
the other shops and I went to the window and saw - oh,
it’s just too awful!”
The Ministry of Magic was soon inundated with
owls from Hogsmeade residents, but officials only disp-
atched a handful of first tier employees from the
Department of Magical Law Enforcement – owing to the
factthat two Aurors were already on-hand in Hogsmeade.
The Daily Prophet can exclusively report that both
Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter of the Auror Office
were present in Hogsmeade at the time the Dark Mark
was cast, and a third Auror, Bruce Savage, had
previously been on detail with Potter and Weasley until
Christmas Eve. (Savage was recently given a posthumous
Order of Merlin, Second Class for his loyal service to
the Ministry of Magic after his sudden passing on
Christmas Day.)
The Ministry of Magic refused to comment on
the reason for the presence of Aurors in Hogsmede, but
several eye witnesses report that Weasley and Savage
had taken up room since mid-December, and all three
Aurors were seen visiting Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry on several occasions. As for the Wizarding
school, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall does not
confirm nor deny the presence of Aurors in the castle,
but does assure all parents that the school itself was not
harmed or attacked to any degree and the students at
the school are safe (most of the school’s student population
had left on December 23 to return to their respective
homes for the duration of the holidays).
Also, suspicions have been raised about the removal
of Neville Longbottom, a professor at Hogwarts, to St.
Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and
his potential involvement in the Dark Magic that occurred
just six days following his leave. Longbottom, a one-time
Auror trainee, left his work at the Ministry of Magic nearly
three years ago with a personal invitation to join the
Hogwarts Staff as Herbology professor from the Deputy
Headmistress, Pomona Sprout. While Longbottom’s
condition at St. Mungo’s has been marked Classified, an
anonymous hospital insider claims Longbottom was
admitted to the Allegra Lecteur Ward in Spell Damage and
remains in critical care. Additionally, the Minister of Magic
himself has ordered two Aurors to be stationed outside the
Ward, but whether this decision has been made for
Longbottom’s protection or that of the other patients
remains to be seen. Similarly, Minister Shacklebolt assures
the Wizarding Community that (ctd. page 3, column 2)
Sean eyed the man sitting beside her, wondering if he might wake if she were to try and snatch the paper from under his arm to continue reading. Her hand twitched in vain, longing to finish the story on recent events, but she simply sighed to herself and ran her still hand through her long, scarlet waves. Picking her eyes up, Sean took in the scene around her once more, trying to stiffen her resolve – there was a dark haired man nearly in tears as he sat, squashed and stuck, inside an abnormally large cauldron that might have been trying to eat him. An elderly woman with hair so white it was bluing on the ends had sprouted feathers all over her upper body and was drifting off to sleep with her cotton-ball head buried under a winged-arm. Sean came across the next patients and had to hide a smirk; two young girls were wailing as their father tried to yell over them to the Welcome Witch, “WE BOUGHT IT IN A MUGGLE JOKE SHOP, BUT IT’S OBVIOUSLY DARK MAGIC! THE WIFE DIDN’T WANT ME TO TRY ANY COUNTER-CURSES JUST IN CASE!” He was now pointing frantically towards his two daughters, who were apparently caught in a simple Chinese Finger-Trap and convinced they would be conjoined forever. There was a fleeting moment inside her in which Sean thought she should go and offer help, but she knew better; drawing attention to oneself when attempting to keep a low profile was probably not the wisest course of action. So, Sean re-settled herself in her seat and waited, trying desperately to numb-out the panicked and pained emotions trying to beat themselves inside her.
She had been waiting nearly an hour for Desdemona Dalit, a Healer from the Allegra Lecteur Ward, to make her usual trip to the ground floor to gossip with the Welcome Witch on her break. Sean had been watching Desdemona in and out of a week as she stationed herself inside St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, appearing as a different ‘family visitor’ each day (except for her second day, in which she had to change identities midway through her observations since the patient’s real family showed up and insisted they did not have an estranged cousin Andrew, the lousy gits). Checking her watch again, Sean began to bounce her knee up and down in anticipation – Desdemona had yet to be late for her break, and she was cutting it awfully close. Of course she has to be late today, Sean scowled to herself, and a raw thought (one she had been trying desperately to avoid) forced its way into her mind. What if it was too late? What if she had missed something important? It was stupid to try and observe Hogwarts and the hospital at the same time, she told herself, outright stupid; and how she ever convinced herself to talk to Firenze before leaving for good was just beyond comprehension. What the bloody hell was I thinking? She had jeopardized everything – everything – she had been working on the last month, including all the information she gathered and the safety of her family. If Harry figures it out, then that’s it – it’s all over. If he’s figured it out, then I’m going to have to give myself up. It was a loathsome idea, so much so that it made her stomach flip and she closed her eyes and begged her last meal to remain in its place for the time being.
“Do you need a Calming Draught, dear?” a high-pitched, but sweet voice asked suddenly.
“What?” Sean started, then opened her eyes to see a small, plump little witch with gray-flecked golden curls smiling beside her. “Oh,” Sean stopped bouncing her knee, “Oh, no, I’m fine – just waiting for my mum to get here so we can go and see my sister.”
Desdemona Dalit smiled and nodded, “Why don’t you try to tea room on the fifth floor, much more comfortable.”
Sean returned her smile and stood up, tugging and the sleeves of her charcoal, hooded sweater until she could tuck the cuffs beneath her fingers. “Thank you, madam, I’ll do that.”
“Lift’s right over there, dearie. It’s usually just for Healers, but I think you really need that spot of tea.” Desdemona Dalit winked gently pointed to the end of the hall, then turned to join the Welcome Witch behind her counter after Sean nodded her thanks. Sean ambled slowly towards the place the Healer had pointed until she was out of viewing range, then hastily picked up her speed until she slid in between the closing doors of the elevator, which was (thankfully) empty. There was a small pang of guilt towards Desdemona Dalit, but she couldn’t think about that now – she needed to do this before… Well, just before… She shoved her finger into the button for level four, then squeezed her eyes shut as she concentrated on Desdemona Dalit’s most recent appearance and her forefinger twitched. There were seconds, maybe less, before the doors of the lift were going to clang open, and she whipped out her wand and muttered “Novo vestis” until her sweatshirt, jeans, and trainers were suddenly a crisp, lime green uniform with matching pumps. Sean had just stored her wand in the front pocket of her Healer’s robe when the lift jingled to a stop and a polite witch’s voice announced “Fourth Floor: Spell Damage, incorporating the Janus Thickey Ward for long-term residents.”
With a great gulp that seemed to stick in her throat, Sean stepped onto the floor determinedly, heading straight for the double doors on the left corridor. As expected, two foreboding-looking men in long, dark traveling cloaks met her gaze and moved to block the entrance to the ward. “Thought you were going down to have a chat with Adelphie?” the taller of the two men questioned, his heavy brow raised in concern.
“She’s had a family emergency, had to go back to Tinworth straightaway. Now, if you don’t mind, Williamson.” Sean said in Desdemona’s high, sing-song voice, adding just a hint of frustration.
“What kind of 'family emergency'?” the other Auror inquired with his blonde hair falling in front of his narrowed eyes.
Sean sighed in exasperation, “Her sister is going through a divorce and she had to tend to her, satisfied?” The gentility had left Desdemona’s voice now, they were wasting the precious little time Sean had before the real Desdemona returned.
Williamson shrugged and turned toward his partner, “That’s true, Adelphie told me herself the other day.”
“Well then, I suggest you move before I send for Proudfoot and he demerits the both of you for interrupting Healer work.” Sean placed Desdemona’s hands on her hips with a loud “Humpf!” as both men stepped aside despairingly. “Thank you Williamson, Duquesne. Alohomora!” She nodded to both Aurors before magically unlocking the door, then she tossed her head back as she strode through the double doors under the sign “Allegra Lecteur Ward: Critical Care”.
There was an immediate sense of gravitas that enveloped her whole being, and she Felt suddenly static and impassive as the doors clanged shut behind her and blocked the intense suspicion she had been Experiencing from Williamson and Duquesne. There was no pain in this part of the hospital – no sickening agony she had to try to ignore; only morose intensity prevailed here. The walls of the ward were a stark white that made Sean’s eyes water as she looked upon them, as if she had never seen the color properly before. The ward’s rectangular shape gave it an eerie sort of symmetry, with ten beds lining the walls on either side that each had their own set of tables covered in various potions, healing instruments and tools. Nearly half the beds were hidden behind hospital curtains - which Sean figured must be the newest and most critical patients, while the rest of the beds had marks on their charts that indicated the ward they would be discharged to for further care. However, all the somber details paled in comparison to the overwhelming, deafening silence that seemed to press upon her eardrums, filling the ward with an unequivocal sense of tragedy and heartbreak.
Sean swallowed the dread that seemed to have risen into her throat, and felt it hit the bottom of her stomach with an echoing rumble only she could hear. Desdemona Dalit’s lime green pumps click-clacked on the tile flooring as she walked the line between the rows of the grievously injured, finally stopping after what felt like an eternity at the last (and therefore most protected) bed – shrouded in a curtain. The thenar muscle in her right hand began to twitch as she raised it to pull back the drape, grasping the cloth so tightly she could feel her fingernails pressing into her skin through the curtain. Sean didn’t hear the jangle of the curtain hooks as she yanked the cover back, but instead her rapid heartbeats thudded between her ears as she felt her entire being crumple to sit beside the limp body of Neville Longbottom.
“Oh, God, Neville… What have you done?” Sean whispered, her own voice returned to her. If it weren’t for their location she might have been able to convince herself that he was sleeping, but there was no denying his condition as he lay unconscious beside her. There was a clear bubble around his nose and mouth that might have resembled a Bubble-Head Charm, though it kept contracting at equal intervals to push oxygen into his nostrils and slightly parted lips. His lips, she noticed, were heavily chapped from the dry air and carbon dioxide that must have continually passed over them since his arrival, and she felt an extraordinary amount of guilt as she lightly touched the softness of her own mouth. Sean tugged gently on the top of the standard-issue blanket and tucked it just below his underarms, then began to smooth out the wrinkles as his heart beat slowly, yet steadily, against her hand. Brushing his umber hair off his forehead, Sean nearly smiled when she noticed the growth of his hair over the tops of his ears and down the nape of his neck – she nearly smiled, but did not. Instead, she swallowed hard.
“I didn’t want this… I never meant for this to happen…” She forced herself to look away – if she was going to do what she came to do, she wouldn’t be able to muster the courage if she continued to stare at his comatose body. Sean noticed his own beside table for the first time, laden with a multitude of multicolored potions, several healing instruments she had never seen before, a Sneakoscope that remained (thankfully) still, and a golden pocket watch (that had once belonged to Neville’s Uncle Algie) that told her nearly half of Desdemona’s break was gone. “I came here because I need to tell you something; I need you to hear this, even if you can’t… A long time ago, you told me that you were ‘happy just to be nominated’ – that second place was good enough for you... You’re wrong,” Sean turned her head back to gaze into his eye sockets and imagine his kind, brown eyes staring up at her, “and I was wrong for ever letting you think so.”
Leaning forward in sincerity and urgency, she moved both of her hands to encase his right, “You – are – no one’s silver medal, Neville Longbottom, d’you hear me? You are the kindest and most decent man I know, and you have meant more to me than I think you will ever understand. I was a mess – a walking train wreck – and you… you saved me from the person I was becoming.” Sean exhaled heavily and removed her right hand from the top of Neville’s to brush Desdemona’s tight, golden curls out of her face, “I don’t know how much this may mean to you after… after everything that’s happened, but I am so very, very sorry, Neville. You have done so much for me – and Teddy – and I couldn’t give you what you needed. I tried, though, I tried like hell to love you – but I don’t suppose that’s really worth anything… I tried to convince myself that I was in love with you as deeply as I knew you loved me, but I couldn’t.”
Self-disgust was flowing though her veins, now, in lieu of blood, and her head sank down as she stared at their intertwined hands. “I think, after a while…” she was whispering now, “I thought… I hoped… maybe you could love me enough for the both of us. But I was wrong.” She picked up her head, her voice gaining strength again, “I can never make up for what I’ve done, and I wouldn’t be so callous as to ask for your forgiveness... I know the choices I’ve made are inexcusable and unforgivable.” She let her head lean to the side softly, “I know you think that you’re lucky to be a part of my life, but I’m the lucky one. I am inexplicably blessed to have shared the past few years with you, and I just hope that one day… however far away… we can be friends…” Sean removed her left hand and placed it softly on Neville’s forehead, then ran in back through his hair and carefully leaned in to kiss the spot she had just touched. She touched her forehead to his and closed her eyes, “I’m sorry, Neville. I love you.”
A deafening crash shook the room as Sean’s eyes flew open just in time to see the flash of orange light that sent her soaring into the wall at the end of the ward.
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A/N: EEK! Sorry about the two weeks, but it’s here now! I really hope you enjoy the chapter, and I hope to have 21 up next weekend… maybe…
20: Escape from St. Mungo’s
Her head smacked against the wall with a sickening thud and she slid down to the floor as a woman screeched in anger. “THIS IS A BLOODY HOSPITAL, DUQUESNE!” Desdemona Dalit had returned from her break.
“GET HER OUT OF HERE!” roared a deep voice Sean vaguely remembered as Williamson, the older of the two Aurors that had been stationed outside the Allegra Lecteur Ward for a week. Sean dashed around the curtain hiding Neville’s comatose body, silently praying that she hadn’t punctured the charm that was acting as his respirator, and pushed her back against the adjacent wall in a sitting position with her thighs and bent knees squeezed into her torso. She could hear the faint shrieking of Desdemona’s high-pitched voice but it sounded oddly distant, and she knew Williamson and Duquesne had locked her out of the war – which also meant they had locked Sean in.
“YOU MIGHT AS WELL GIVE IT UP NOW!” Williamson called out, his voice closer as he moved cautiously towards the end of the ward, Sean watching his footsteps from underneath Neville’s curtain.
There was a second set of feet joining Williamson - Duquesne, “Careful, Bert, we don’t want to hit any of the patients…”
She heard Williamson’s voice respond inaudibly and took out her wand from her Healer’s robe to tap herself on top of the head while concentrating on a particular charm. Sean held up her hand and stole a glance at it, or, rather, lack thereof – her Disillusionment Charm had worked and she was indiscernible from the air around her. The men were moving again, only a bed away from Neville’s cot, and she flattened her body against the floor and painstakingly edged her way beneath the curtain to rest directly under the hospital bed. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Williamson muttered to himself, so close Sean could hear him breathing.
“Alright, this is your last chance!” Duquesne called out, his voice echoing off the blank walls, “Come quietly and we’ll work out a deal!”
Yeah, right, Sean thought darkly to herself as she rolled her eyes, and she had a sudden burst of inspiration. Pointing her wand at her throat and furrowing her invisible brow, she concentrated on the incantation Silencio as hard as she could – now was not the best time to find out how well she could hold her tongue in a duel. “A-HA!” Sean opened her mouth to scream in surprise as Williamson jumped around the bed (she hadn’t even seen him move), but no sound came out. Quickly, she pointed her wand a final time at her clothes as she returned them to their previously casual state (if she had to run, she wasn’t going to do it in lime green pumps), then pocketed it as the feeling of denim and cotton against her skin was restored.
“What the hell?” Sean started as the drapes surrounding Neville were yanked backwards, and a heavy-browed man crouched down to stare directly at her. For a horrifying moment, Sean thought her Disillusionment Charm hadn’t worked properly and he could see her, but he growled suddenly and rose to stand once more. Sean sighed heavily and began to wind her way out the other side of Neville’s bed, then under the following cots towards the door.
“COME ON, NOW, DON’T MAKE THIS ANY HARDER ON YOURSELF!” Sean’s forefinger was twitching to return her body to its natural size and shape (Desdemona’s feet were so small, that Sean was starting to slip out of her trainers), and she was arching her back to crawl under the brace of the next cot – only six from the doors.
There was a rush of wind as the curtained beds were suddenly bare as the rest of the ward, and Williamson growled louder. “ACCIO INVISIBILITY CLOAK!” Two beds now.
“THERE’S NO APPARATING IN OR OUT OF THIS WARD! WE KNOW YOU’RE STILL HERE!” Just one bed left, and she might be able to stick it out and wait for them to leave before ducking out herself.
A great BOOM shook the ward as a blast of green light shot past Sean, and she threw her hands up on the right side of face to protect herself. Two sets of legs entered the ward – one finished in lime green pumps and the other in black tanker boots. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” a deep, unthinkable voice bellowed, almost as loud as the crash of the doors just seconds before; if it weren’t for the tanker boots, Sean never would have recognized the voice of the man as Ari Proudfoot. There was the faint ‘click’ of the ward doors closing, but she was trying desperately not to imagine all the painful scenarios of attempting escape in the presence of the Head Auror that had suddenly appeared in her mind. “YOU ARE IN A HOSPITAL, YOU BLOODY IDIOTS!”
Duquesne stammered, apparently unable to form proper sentences anymore – not that Sean could blame him. She had met Proudfoot on several occasions, and he had been intimidating at dinner parties… “Th-the impostor… they w-were at Longbottom’s bedside, sir… we had to t-take action…” Williamson managed feebly.
“So you decided to send a Blasting Charm hurtling through a facility for patients in critical care?” Proudfoot whispered, his voice somehow even more ominous in restraint. Williamson and Duquesne did not answer, “Tell me you have at least apprehended the suspect.”
“They disappeared…” Duquesne whispered.
Desdemona gasped, but Proudfoot whispered back, “Excuse me?”
“They’ve got to be here, sir! There’s no Apparating in or out of this ward! We just… er… can’t seem to f-find them…” Williamson offered meekly.
“I assume you know how to stun, Madam Dalit?” Proudfoot said, a hint of admonition in his voice. She must have nodded, “Good. You two checked for Invisibility Cloaks? Good. I guess it’s nice to know your briefing wasn’t a complete waste. They’ve probably Disillusioned or Bedazzled themselves, be on the watch for anything that looks blurry or abnormal. Check under the beds, too, start with Longbottom’s.” That was it – her cue to leave.
Sean began to move very, very slowly – sliding in between the metal supports until she was finally out from under the last bed. She began to do a backwards-crabwalk towards the doors, keeping her eyes on the Aurors who made their way carefully down the middle of the ward - stopping every so often to investigate something ‘blurry’. Desdemona Dalit, however, remained at the head of the ward, surveying the Aurors with a pained expression somewhere between intrigued and horrified. Duquesne gasped suddenly, looking extremely pleased, and dashed between two beds for investigation when something smashed to the floor with a great shattering sound. For a wonderful moment Sean thought Duquesne had knocked a potion vial off a patient’s table, but she was wrong; a thick, currant liquid was oozing down her shins with flecks of glass from the broken vial sticking out randomly. She had run into a patient table… she had shattered the potion…
Desdemona screamed. Sean whirled over on all fours and began running even before she was fully standing. She reached for the double doors of the ward as the three men behind her started yelling, but she slipped on the potion and smacked into the doors head first – flying out into the corridor beyond to land roughly on her side. “Argh!” Sean howled, her voice reverberating off the hospital walls – her Silencing Charm had worn off (that’s what I get for trying to do it nonverbally).
“STUPEFY!” a man shouted at her knees, and she just barely pulled them away in time.
“Scourgify!” Sean cried as the currant-colored potion vanished from her invisible shins.
“OVER THERE!” All three Aurors were in the corridor now as a few Healers went scurrying to their wards. Duquesne’s eyes had gone wild as he pointed to the puddle of potion remaining on the tile floor. “SPECIALIS REVELIO!” he screeched as Sean rolled over once more in an attempt to avoid the spell and push herself up to run again, but she wasn’t quick enough. A blast of hot air hit her like a punch in the abdomen, and she continued to roll unwillingly until she slammed into the other side of the corridor. Her hands were interlocked over the place where she had been hit, and she peeled them back to look down at the damage. To her horror, there was a dark gray spot – the same color as her jumper – growing slowly outwards from the center, revealing her body in an increasingly large circumference with every second.
Sean moaned. “Oh, hell…” Proudfoot roared another Stunning Spell, “PROTEGO!” The beam of red light was deflected and shattered the windows of another ward. The Aurors shielded their faces and looked away in protection, and she took the opportunity to push herself up and run once more. The tips of her scarlet hair were visible now as she sprinted down the corridor, spells and jinxes flying past her with every step she took, but she remained upright and running as she let go of presence of mind to fall back on her Seer instincts. Dodge left, YOUR OTHER LEFT, duck right, cast under your left arm, TAKE THIS HALL! There was a disgusting ‘thud’ as Williamson wailed in fury, and she knew she had Stunned Duquesne as she rounded the corner and continued to race down the hall.
She needed a place to stop, to think… “ARGH!” A white light had rushed by her side while she was distracted, and she grasped her left bicep as a hot liquid began to gush over her fingers and wand. She couldn’t stop – she had to keep running. Obeying her instincts once more, Sean flung herself around the corner of the next corridor, released her injured arm and pointed her vermillion-coated wand at the intersection of the two halls, “REDUCTO!”
Blown back by the force of her spell, Sean landed in a heap nearly twenty feet away from where she had cast. There was an explosive thundering sound still pounding against her eardrums as the hallway began to collapse into itself, and Sean cleaned the floor where he blood had fallen and ducked into the first door she came upon. The bellows and cries of Williamson and Proudfoot died away as she leaned against the back of the door, her eyes closed and her wand hand returned to her left bicep while her chest heaved in between her pants for breath. She had a maximum of ten minutes before they would make their way through the rubble and into the corridor – maybe less if they called for backup, which Proudfoot would undoubtedly do now since she had given him an opportunity. Sean cursed through gritted teeth and fought the urge to punch something.
“Hello?”
Sean’s eyes opened in terror, and she took in her surroundings for the first time; she was in a large bathroom with four stalls and four urinals lining the wall opposite her, and there was a tall, thin man with sandy-blonde hair, glasses, and a lime green robe looking at her worriedly from a row of sinks on her left. She was in a men's room - a bloody men’s room. Why is it always a bathroom? “Are you okay?” the man asked, his voice soft and concerned, and she realized he was talking about her arm.
She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as a magnified, pleasantly-robotic woman’s voice pierced the quiet, “Attention All Visitors: The Auror Office of the Ministry of Magic is searching the building for a person of interest. All Apparition and Disapparition have been ceased. The Ministry requests that you leave the building in a calm, orderly fashion if you are capable of doing so. Attention All Healers: Please remain in your assigned ward. The female suspect has red hair and an open wound on her arm. If sighted, please alert security on the ground floor immediately. Suspect is highly dangerous, do not engage. Attention All Visitors…” The woman droned on, repeating the warnings in her cool voice, but Sean had stopped listening. The Healer opposite her had lost the sense of gentle concern in his face, and was now gaping at her with wide, round eyes and an equally circular mouth.
“Petrificus Totalus!” Sean cried before the Healer had recovered from his shock, and his limbs snapped together while he slowly pitched backwards – finally landing on the bathroom floor with a painful ‘thump’. “Sorry ‘bout that, I really am…” she murmured as she moved from the door in front of one of the mirrored sinks. Her ruby hair was matted around her face with sweat and there was an alarming amount of blood still flowing freely down her arm, and placed her hands on either side of the sink to steady herself. “Get it together, Sabriel…” she scolded herself through clenched teeth, and she turned on the sink to rinse the blood from her hands and wand.
Once clean, she let her forefinger twitch to shorten her hair to a pixie-like length and removed her sweatshirt to inspect her arm. There was a great chunk of flesh missing from her bicep, and she cursed Duquesne for using a completely unnecessary Gouging Spell. Someone yelled in the corridor outside – she had to hurry. Sean magically cleaned the wound with a wince and muttered “Ferula” to bandage her arm, then turned back to the Healer on the floor – his eyes still wide in fear – and summoned his robe. Carefully, she pushed her arms into the sleeves and fastened the buttons, covering her white undershirt and jeans. Sean waved her wand over the Healer, causing him to rise up from the floor only to land in the last stall. “Really - very sorry.” Waving her wand a final time she muttered “Bespecto abdo”, causing the man to fade into the background not unlike a chameleon.
Sean closed her eyes to resolve her mind on the task ahead, then threw her head back with a forced air of confidence and strode out of the bathroom into the hall, only to double over seconds later in hacking coughs. There was dust and smoke everywhere as she fumbled over the bits of ceiling tile and crumbled wall away from the bathroom. “Oi! You there!” a voice called out to her, causing her to turn around and try to wave away some of the dust that was obstructing her vision. A young man came jogging up to her, “What are ye doin’ up ‘ere, now, lassie?” he said with a slow, Scottish drawl. She knew this man – Callum MacDougal – he had finished Auror training the year before Harry.
“I was having some tea on my break,” Sean answered with an air of exasperation, pointing to the ceiling to indicate the fifth floor, “when I heard the announcement. I’ve been trying to get back downstairs for nearly ten minutes!”
MacDougal put his hands on his hips (his wand clearly visible on his left), leaned forward, and raised an eyebrow in almost comical suspicion, “Ay? What floor, then?”
“First – Artifact Accidents, I—”
Another voice cut her off, “MacDougal!” A man was coming up to them, his orange-red hair the only bit of him visible in the dusty air, “What’re you doing?” Ron asked as he glanced to Sean, MacDougal, and back again. “Sorry about this, miss.” He turned back to MacDougal, “Lime green robes are Healer’s robes, Callum, you’re wasting time.”
“Bollocks, I am! This girlie’s the firs’ person we’ve seen on this ‘ere floor, Weasley!” MacDougal defended himself gruffly.
“’Girlie’? I am not a ‘girlie’! Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get downstairs before Mr. Hadley gets eaten by his cauldron, thank you!” Sean said haughtily, wincing slightly as she crossed her arms in feigned frustration.
“Er, right, sorry.” Ron said quietly, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked her up and down once more. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked as he took a step towards her.
Mercifully, Sean didn’t get the chance to respond; instead, Williamson’s voice rang out from their left, “Someone’s been Bedazzled in here!” Ron and MacDougal nearly sprang towards the bathroom doors, all suspicions about Sean forgotten.
She sighed in relief and made her way slowly (thanks to all the rubble and smoke) out of the corridor, down the second hall on her right, and through the double doors that led to the staircases. “Colloportus maxima” she uttered at the doors behind her, then sat on the top step to consider her next move. She couldn’t leave the hospital yet, there was simply no way she was going to go unnoticed while the building was crawling with Aurors. Sean winced as she carefully removed the lime green robe, feeling rather exposed as her bright blue brassiere was clearly visible beneath her thin, white undershirt.
Not once in all her planning had she imagined Proudfoot stepping in; sure, she had heard Desdemona threatening to call him on Williamson and Duquesne several times, but she thought they had been just that – empty threats. What’s done is done, she thought darkly to herself, and she forced her mind to concentrate on what to do next. She considered impersonating a fictional family member again, perhaps a dim-witted cousin who got turned around in all the chaos, but it seemed like a long-shot. As it was, everything seemed a hell of a lot riskier, and she could only imagine one shining hope of possibility in the gloom that enveloped her.
Dropping the lime green robe on the step beside her, Sean stood and turned to face it with her wand out to mutter “Portus” as she focused on the Montrose Basin. She was just bending down to grasp it when a green light illuminated the doors above her and she heard them crash aside. Not again!
“Don’t move, Sean.”
Still bent over in want of the robe, she readjusted her line of sight to see Ron pointing his wand directly between her eyes. “Figured it out, then?” It was all she could think of.
Ron swallowed hard, “Harry’s on his way, I just sent for him.”
“Joy.” Sean seethed back, incredibly aggravated that she had been so close, yet again.
Though neither of them dared to move, Ron’s jaw clenched and she saw his Adam’s apple quiver as he swallowed hard, “Why are you doing this?” he whispered.
Another smart comment came directly to her mind, but she thought better of it; the agony and betrayal in Ron’s voice was sobering and shame-inducing. “I can’t answer that.”
“I can’t let you go.” Ron replied, his voice deeper and harsher than it had been previously.
Sean started slightly, surprised that he had even entertained the idea of letting her off. “I know.” A heavy silence fell between them, and Sean knew it was now or never.
With awkwardly forced movements, Sean leapt forward to grasp the robe. “ACCIO ROBE!”
“NO!” she cried as it slipped through her fingers and flew into Ron’s hands, and there was a moment of surprise on his face before his disappeared from the hospital to the practice grounds of the Montrose Magpies in Scotland. “That. Bloody. Effing. Idiot!” Sean cursed in the deserted stairwell, but she didn’t have time to linger – Harry was still on his way. She ran up the stairs two-at-a-time until she reached the fifth floor, then threw the doors apart with unnecessary force as she strode into the deserted single corridor that divided the tea room from the gift shop.
The hallway finished in a large window that took over most of the wall, and Sean half-yelled “Evanesco” at it in frustration. She stopped just at the end of the corridor where the window had been just a few moments ago, perched on the ledge so the tips of her trainers were exposed to the bitingly cold frost. The exposed skin on her arms and chest felt suddenly like armor as it erupted in goose bumps, and she exhaled deeply, “If I don’t survive this, I’m going to kill him.” Picking herself up to stand en pointe in the space between the hospital and certain death, Sean began to concentrate on her new destination… The Forest, the Forest, you will be in the Forest… This better work… The Forest!
She turned into midair, but instead of falling to her death there was a sudden ripping sensation throughout her body as if she were being torn apart and pushed back together at the same time. The feeling ended almost as soon as it had begun, and a new sensation took over her body as Sean felt her clothes and limbs being scratched and torn as she fell to the ground, landing in an brusque and painful ‘thwump’ on an impossibly hard patch of earth; she had made it to the Forest.
ack! so exciting! please review here!
20: Escape from St. Mungo’s
Her head smacked against the wall with a sickening thud and she slid down to the floor as a woman screeched in anger. “THIS IS A BLOODY HOSPITAL, DUQUESNE!” Desdemona Dalit had returned from her break.
“GET HER OUT OF HERE!” roared a deep voice Sean vaguely remembered as Williamson, the older of the two Aurors that had been stationed outside the Allegra Lecteur Ward for a week. Sean dashed around the curtain hiding Neville’s comatose body, silently praying that she hadn’t punctured the charm that was acting as his respirator, and pushed her back against the adjacent wall in a sitting position with her thighs and bent knees squeezed into her torso. She could hear the faint shrieking of Desdemona’s high-pitched voice but it sounded oddly distant, and she knew Williamson and Duquesne had locked her out of the war – which also meant they had locked Sean in.
“YOU MIGHT AS WELL GIVE IT UP NOW!” Williamson called out, his voice closer as he moved cautiously towards the end of the ward, Sean watching his footsteps from underneath Neville’s curtain.
There was a second set of feet joining Williamson - Duquesne, “Careful, Bert, we don’t want to hit any of the patients…”
She heard Williamson’s voice respond inaudibly and took out her wand from her Healer’s robe to tap herself on top of the head while concentrating on a particular charm. Sean held up her hand and stole a glance at it, or, rather, lack thereof – her Disillusionment Charm had worked and she was indiscernible from the air around her. The men were moving again, only a bed away from Neville’s cot, and she flattened her body against the floor and painstakingly edged her way beneath the curtain to rest directly under the hospital bed. “Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Williamson muttered to himself, so close Sean could hear him breathing.
“Alright, this is your last chance!” Duquesne called out, his voice echoing off the blank walls, “Come quietly and we’ll work out a deal!”
Yeah, right, Sean thought darkly to herself as she rolled her eyes, and she had a sudden burst of inspiration. Pointing her wand at her throat and furrowing her invisible brow, she concentrated on the incantation Silencio as hard as she could – now was not the best time to find out how well she could hold her tongue in a duel. “A-HA!” Sean opened her mouth to scream in surprise as Williamson jumped around the bed (she hadn’t even seen him move), but no sound came out. Quickly, she pointed her wand a final time at her clothes as she returned them to their previously casual state (if she had to run, she wasn’t going to do it in lime green pumps), then pocketed it as the feeling of denim and cotton against her skin was restored.
“What the hell?” Sean started as the drapes surrounding Neville were yanked backwards, and a heavy-browed man crouched down to stare directly at her. For a horrifying moment, Sean thought her Disillusionment Charm hadn’t worked properly and he could see her, but he growled suddenly and rose to stand once more. Sean sighed heavily and began to wind her way out the other side of Neville’s bed, then under the following cots towards the door.
“COME ON, NOW, DON’T MAKE THIS ANY HARDER ON YOURSELF!” Sean’s forefinger was twitching to return her body to its natural size and shape (Desdemona’s feet were so small, that Sean was starting to slip out of her trainers), and she was arching her back to crawl under the brace of the next cot – only six from the doors.
There was a rush of wind as the curtained beds were suddenly bare as the rest of the ward, and Williamson growled louder. “ACCIO INVISIBILITY CLOAK!” Two beds now.
“THERE’S NO APPARATING IN OR OUT OF THIS WARD! WE KNOW YOU’RE STILL HERE!” Just one bed left, and she might be able to stick it out and wait for them to leave before ducking out herself.
A great BOOM shook the ward as a blast of green light shot past Sean, and she threw her hands up on the right side of face to protect herself. Two sets of legs entered the ward – one finished in lime green pumps and the other in black tanker boots. “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” a deep, unthinkable voice bellowed, almost as loud as the crash of the doors just seconds before; if it weren’t for the tanker boots, Sean never would have recognized the voice of the man as Ari Proudfoot. There was the faint ‘click’ of the ward doors closing, but she was trying desperately not to imagine all the painful scenarios of attempting escape in the presence of the Head Auror that had suddenly appeared in her mind. “YOU ARE IN A HOSPITAL, YOU BLOODY IDIOTS!”
Duquesne stammered, apparently unable to form proper sentences anymore – not that Sean could blame him. She had met Proudfoot on several occasions, and he had been intimidating at dinner parties… “Th-the impostor… they w-were at Longbottom’s bedside, sir… we had to t-take action…” Williamson managed feebly.
“So you decided to send a Blasting Charm hurtling through a facility for patients in critical care?” Proudfoot whispered, his voice somehow even more ominous in restraint. Williamson and Duquesne did not answer, “Tell me you have at least apprehended the suspect.”
“They disappeared…” Duquesne whispered.
Desdemona gasped, but Proudfoot whispered back, “Excuse me?”
“They’ve got to be here, sir! There’s no Apparating in or out of this ward! We just… er… can’t seem to f-find them…” Williamson offered meekly.
“I assume you know how to stun, Madam Dalit?” Proudfoot said, a hint of admonition in his voice. She must have nodded, “Good. You two checked for Invisibility Cloaks? Good. I guess it’s nice to know your briefing wasn’t a complete waste. They’ve probably Disillusioned or Bedazzled themselves, be on the watch for anything that looks blurry or abnormal. Check under the beds, too, start with Longbottom’s.” That was it – her cue to leave.
Sean began to move very, very slowly – sliding in between the metal supports until she was finally out from under the last bed. She began to do a backwards-crabwalk towards the doors, keeping her eyes on the Aurors who made their way carefully down the middle of the ward - stopping every so often to investigate something ‘blurry’. Desdemona Dalit, however, remained at the head of the ward, surveying the Aurors with a pained expression somewhere between intrigued and horrified. Duquesne gasped suddenly, looking extremely pleased, and dashed between two beds for investigation when something smashed to the floor with a great shattering sound. For a wonderful moment Sean thought Duquesne had knocked a potion vial off a patient’s table, but she was wrong; a thick, currant liquid was oozing down her shins with flecks of glass from the broken vial sticking out randomly. She had run into a patient table… she had shattered the potion…
Desdemona screamed. Sean whirled over on all fours and began running even before she was fully standing. She reached for the double doors of the ward as the three men behind her started yelling, but she slipped on the potion and smacked into the doors head first – flying out into the corridor beyond to land roughly on her side. “Argh!” Sean howled, her voice reverberating off the hospital walls – her Silencing Charm had worn off (that’s what I get for trying to do it nonverbally).
“STUPEFY!” a man shouted at her knees, and she just barely pulled them away in time.
“Scourgify!” Sean cried as the currant-colored potion vanished from her invisible shins.
“OVER THERE!” All three Aurors were in the corridor now as a few Healers went scurrying to their wards. Duquesne’s eyes had gone wild as he pointed to the puddle of potion remaining on the tile floor. “SPECIALIS REVELIO!” he screeched as Sean rolled over once more in an attempt to avoid the spell and push herself up to run again, but she wasn’t quick enough. A blast of hot air hit her like a punch in the abdomen, and she continued to roll unwillingly until she slammed into the other side of the corridor. Her hands were interlocked over the place where she had been hit, and she peeled them back to look down at the damage. To her horror, there was a dark gray spot – the same color as her jumper – growing slowly outwards from the center, revealing her body in an increasingly large circumference with every second.
Sean moaned. “Oh, hell…” Proudfoot roared another Stunning Spell, “PROTEGO!” The beam of red light was deflected and shattered the windows of another ward. The Aurors shielded their faces and looked away in protection, and she took the opportunity to push herself up and run once more. The tips of her scarlet hair were visible now as she sprinted down the corridor, spells and jinxes flying past her with every step she took, but she remained upright and running as she let go of presence of mind to fall back on her Seer instincts. Dodge left, YOUR OTHER LEFT, duck right, cast under your left arm, TAKE THIS HALL! There was a disgusting ‘thud’ as Williamson wailed in fury, and she knew she had Stunned Duquesne as she rounded the corner and continued to race down the hall.
She needed a place to stop, to think… “ARGH!” A white light had rushed by her side while she was distracted, and she grasped her left bicep as a hot liquid began to gush over her fingers and wand. She couldn’t stop – she had to keep running. Obeying her instincts once more, Sean flung herself around the corner of the next corridor, released her injured arm and pointed her vermillion-coated wand at the intersection of the two halls, “REDUCTO!”
Blown back by the force of her spell, Sean landed in a heap nearly twenty feet away from where she had cast. There was an explosive thundering sound still pounding against her eardrums as the hallway began to collapse into itself, and Sean cleaned the floor where he blood had fallen and ducked into the first door she came upon. The bellows and cries of Williamson and Proudfoot died away as she leaned against the back of the door, her eyes closed and her wand hand returned to her left bicep while her chest heaved in between her pants for breath. She had a maximum of ten minutes before they would make their way through the rubble and into the corridor – maybe less if they called for backup, which Proudfoot would undoubtedly do now since she had given him an opportunity. Sean cursed through gritted teeth and fought the urge to punch something.
“Hello?”
Sean’s eyes opened in terror, and she took in her surroundings for the first time; she was in a large bathroom with four stalls and four urinals lining the wall opposite her, and there was a tall, thin man with sandy-blonde hair, glasses, and a lime green robe looking at her worriedly from a row of sinks on her left. She was in a men's room - a bloody men’s room. Why is it always a bathroom? “Are you okay?” the man asked, his voice soft and concerned, and she realized he was talking about her arm.
She opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as a magnified, pleasantly-robotic woman’s voice pierced the quiet, “Attention All Visitors: The Auror Office of the Ministry of Magic is searching the building for a person of interest. All Apparition and Disapparition have been ceased. The Ministry requests that you leave the building in a calm, orderly fashion if you are capable of doing so. Attention All Healers: Please remain in your assigned ward. The female suspect has red hair and an open wound on her arm. If sighted, please alert security on the ground floor immediately. Suspect is highly dangerous, do not engage. Attention All Visitors…” The woman droned on, repeating the warnings in her cool voice, but Sean had stopped listening. The Healer opposite her had lost the sense of gentle concern in his face, and was now gaping at her with wide, round eyes and an equally circular mouth.
“Petrificus Totalus!” Sean cried before the Healer had recovered from his shock, and his limbs snapped together while he slowly pitched backwards – finally landing on the bathroom floor with a painful ‘thump’. “Sorry ‘bout that, I really am…” she murmured as she moved from the door in front of one of the mirrored sinks. Her ruby hair was matted around her face with sweat and there was an alarming amount of blood still flowing freely down her arm, and placed her hands on either side of the sink to steady herself. “Get it together, Sabriel…” she scolded herself through clenched teeth, and she turned on the sink to rinse the blood from her hands and wand.
Once clean, she let her forefinger twitch to shorten her hair to a pixie-like length and removed her sweatshirt to inspect her arm. There was a great chunk of flesh missing from her bicep, and she cursed Duquesne for using a completely unnecessary Gouging Spell. Someone yelled in the corridor outside – she had to hurry. Sean magically cleaned the wound with a wince and muttered “Ferula” to bandage her arm, then turned back to the Healer on the floor – his eyes still wide in fear – and summoned his robe. Carefully, she pushed her arms into the sleeves and fastened the buttons, covering her white undershirt and jeans. Sean waved her wand over the Healer, causing him to rise up from the floor only to land in the last stall. “Really - very sorry.” Waving her wand a final time she muttered “Bespecto abdo”, causing the man to fade into the background not unlike a chameleon.
Sean closed her eyes to resolve her mind on the task ahead, then threw her head back with a forced air of confidence and strode out of the bathroom into the hall, only to double over seconds later in hacking coughs. There was dust and smoke everywhere as she fumbled over the bits of ceiling tile and crumbled wall away from the bathroom. “Oi! You there!” a voice called out to her, causing her to turn around and try to wave away some of the dust that was obstructing her vision. A young man came jogging up to her, “What are ye doin’ up ‘ere, now, lassie?” he said with a slow, Scottish drawl. She knew this man – Callum MacDougal – he had finished Auror training the year before Harry.
“I was having some tea on my break,” Sean answered with an air of exasperation, pointing to the ceiling to indicate the fifth floor, “when I heard the announcement. I’ve been trying to get back downstairs for nearly ten minutes!”
MacDougal put his hands on his hips (his wand clearly visible on his left), leaned forward, and raised an eyebrow in almost comical suspicion, “Ay? What floor, then?”
“First – Artifact Accidents, I—”
Another voice cut her off, “MacDougal!” A man was coming up to them, his orange-red hair the only bit of him visible in the dusty air, “What’re you doing?” Ron asked as he glanced to Sean, MacDougal, and back again. “Sorry about this, miss.” He turned back to MacDougal, “Lime green robes are Healer’s robes, Callum, you’re wasting time.”
“Bollocks, I am! This girlie’s the firs’ person we’ve seen on this ‘ere floor, Weasley!” MacDougal defended himself gruffly.
“’Girlie’? I am not a ‘girlie’! Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get downstairs before Mr. Hadley gets eaten by his cauldron, thank you!” Sean said haughtily, wincing slightly as she crossed her arms in feigned frustration.
“Er, right, sorry.” Ron said quietly, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked her up and down once more. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked as he took a step towards her.
Mercifully, Sean didn’t get the chance to respond; instead, Williamson’s voice rang out from their left, “Someone’s been Bedazzled in here!” Ron and MacDougal nearly sprang towards the bathroom doors, all suspicions about Sean forgotten.
She sighed in relief and made her way slowly (thanks to all the rubble and smoke) out of the corridor, down the second hall on her right, and through the double doors that led to the staircases. “Colloportus maxima” she uttered at the doors behind her, then sat on the top step to consider her next move. She couldn’t leave the hospital yet, there was simply no way she was going to go unnoticed while the building was crawling with Aurors. Sean winced as she carefully removed the lime green robe, feeling rather exposed as her bright blue brassiere was clearly visible beneath her thin, white undershirt.
Not once in all her planning had she imagined Proudfoot stepping in; sure, she had heard Desdemona threatening to call him on Williamson and Duquesne several times, but she thought they had been just that – empty threats. What’s done is done, she thought darkly to herself, and she forced her mind to concentrate on what to do next. She considered impersonating a fictional family member again, perhaps a dim-witted cousin who got turned around in all the chaos, but it seemed like a long-shot. As it was, everything seemed a hell of a lot riskier, and she could only imagine one shining hope of possibility in the gloom that enveloped her.
Dropping the lime green robe on the step beside her, Sean stood and turned to face it with her wand out to mutter “Portus” as she focused on the Montrose Basin. She was just bending down to grasp it when a green light illuminated the doors above her and she heard them crash aside. Not again!
“Don’t move, Sean.”
Still bent over in want of the robe, she readjusted her line of sight to see Ron pointing his wand directly between her eyes. “Figured it out, then?” It was all she could think of.
Ron swallowed hard, “Harry’s on his way, I just sent for him.”
“Joy.” Sean seethed back, incredibly aggravated that she had been so close, yet again.
Though neither of them dared to move, Ron’s jaw clenched and she saw his Adam’s apple quiver as he swallowed hard, “Why are you doing this?” he whispered.
Another smart comment came directly to her mind, but she thought better of it; the agony and betrayal in Ron’s voice was sobering and shame-inducing. “I can’t answer that.”
“I can’t let you go.” Ron replied, his voice deeper and harsher than it had been previously.
Sean started slightly, surprised that he had even entertained the idea of letting her off. “I know.” A heavy silence fell between them, and Sean knew it was now or never.
With awkwardly forced movements, Sean leapt forward to grasp the robe. “ACCIO ROBE!”
“NO!” she cried as it slipped through her fingers and flew into Ron’s hands, and there was a moment of surprise on his face before his disappeared from the hospital to the practice grounds of the Montrose Magpies in Scotland. “That. Bloody. Effing. Idiot!” Sean cursed in the deserted stairwell, but she didn’t have time to linger – Harry was still on his way. She ran up the stairs two-at-a-time until she reached the fifth floor, then threw the doors apart with unnecessary force as she strode into the deserted single corridor that divided the tea room from the gift shop.
The hallway finished in a large window that took over most of the wall, and Sean half-yelled “Evanesco” at it in frustration. She stopped just at the end of the corridor where the window had been just a few moments ago, perched on the ledge so the tips of her trainers were exposed to the bitingly cold frost. The exposed skin on her arms and chest felt suddenly like armor as it erupted in goose bumps, and she exhaled deeply, “If I don’t survive this, I’m going to kill him.” Picking herself up to stand en pointe in the space between the hospital and certain death, Sean began to concentrate on her new destination… The Forest, the Forest, you will be in the Forest… This better work… The Forest!
She turned into midair, but instead of falling to her death there was a sudden ripping sensation throughout her body as if she were being torn apart and pushed back together at the same time. The feeling ended almost as soon as it had begun, and a new sensation took over her body as Sean felt her clothes and limbs being scratched and torn as she fell to the ground, landing in an brusque and painful ‘thwump’ on an impossibly hard patch of earth; she had made it to the Forest.
ack! so exciting! please review here!
a/n: i can't believe i finished this chap! hope you enjoy!
21. Red and Black
“Agh!” A fierce bolt of pain shot through her left arm, shoving her into consciousness. Sean moved to grab her throbbing bicep instinctually, but immediately drew her right hand back as she gasped in pain once more. Gritting her teeth, she forced her eyes open through a watery wince to see what had so agonizingly disturbed her slumber. Lying atop soft, black sheets rested her useless, unresponsive left arm – covered completely from shoulder to fingertips in a bandage that was stained pale pink after being doused in an ash-smelling potion. For a moment, Sean wondered what happened to her to cause this injury – but the moment passed quickly as her eyes widened in a raw gasp with the return of her memory… Neville… Firenze… Harry… the Hospital… Aurors… Ron… the Forest… the Forest!
“Agh!” Sean jolted upright in her clarity of memory, once again hurting her bandaged arm. Wait, she told herself, bandages? She remembered Apparating out of St. Mungo’s to the Forbidden Forest – she even remembered hitting the ground – but there was no recollection of this place. Slowly, Sean looked all around the room while she wracked her brain for some inkling as to how she came to be here, but there was nothing. The white walls had been decorated lovingly with black and red Japanese cherry blossoms and vines that wove all around the room and seemed to curl around the bay windows and open door frame. The bed in which she lay had been neatly tucked in around her with black sheets made of (if she wasn’t mistaken) satin, and there was a bedside table on her left made of dark cherry wood that had been laden with potion bottles in an unfamiliar language and more bandage supplies. If one were to look in the room from the doorway, the sleigh bed would be towards the left corner of the room against the wall, leaving a small walking space between the bed and the back wall to access the bay windows and the right wall open for its display. Sean turned her head to look out the windows, hoping for some sign of recognition as the bright sunlight streamed in between the snow-covered tree branches, but there was none. Confusion and hopelessness began to course throughout her, though she Felt some defiant sense of calm deep within her…
“Sie sollten ausruhen werden.”
Sean started (causing her to wince in pain... again) and spun back around to see a stout, bespectacled man leaning on the doorframe. He was smiling softly, and Sean realized instantly that she had been Experiencing this man’s calm – not her own, and she was suddenly incapable of proper speech. “Sie werden wollen, festsetzen.” The man stepped forward and offered his hand to guide her bandaged arm back to its resting position while she carefully slouched backwards to lie once more.
“Where… where am I?” Sean finally managed, breathlessly.
The small man smiled, accenting the lines of age around his mouth and eyes, “My home.”
She knew she should feel more concerned for her own safety, yet she found herself remarkably trusting of the elderly man as she Felt his care for her quite clearly. Sean opened to mouth to speak, but furrowed her brow and stammered as thousands of questions raced through her mind, “I… I…”
“Shh, now. It’s alright, dear. You just get some rest, and call me if you need anything. I’m Red.” Sean forced herself to return the man’s kind smile, then drifted away back into slumber.
“Come on, dear, it’s about time you woke up.” The soft voice was calling to her from far away, and she moaned her dissent and let herself yield to sleep once more. “Sorry, love, but you really need to eat something. You’ve got to wake up now.” The wonderful, earthy aroma of hot tomato soup drifted into her nose and she suddenly found herself much more amenable to rousing. Remembering her last venture into consciousness, Sean rolled carefully onto her right side and pushed herself up to a sitting position with her uninjured arm before taking in Red’s sympathetic visage and smile. “That’s better.” Red scooped a large spoonful out of the bowl and blew on it gently before bringing it close to Sean’s lips.
Every fiber of her being was screaming for her to take the soup without judgment, but Sean knew better than to accept anything from someone she didn’t know; there were still a myriad of questions running through her mind about this man ‘Red’ and his intentions, and she swallowed dryly before speaking. “Why are you doing this?”
Red sighed, though his smile did not fade, and he replaced the spoon in the soup bowl and placed it carefully on the side table. “I guess I never really overcame my obligations to those in need when I was a Healer… and perhaps you showing up in this Forest sparked my curiosity.” Red grinned. Curiosity. It was an understatement; he was deeply intrigued as to her presence in this undiscovered part of the Forest and his eyes were fixed upon her face as if he might be trying to perform Legilimency. Still, there weren’t any Feelings of concealment or mistrust at all within the former Healer beside her, and Sean nodded to accept his explanation. “What’s your name, dear?”
“Sabriel, Sabriel Henry.” Sean had taken to calling herself ‘Sabriel’ not only out of habit, but necessity – Sean was not a common female name and she wasn’t sure to what lengths the Auror Office might have gone in pursuit of her.
“That’s a pretty name, does it mean anything?”
Sean suppressed rolling her eyes; she knew Red was trying to build a rapport with her and she did not care to share of herself… but he had saved her life… “It means ‘strength of the father’.”
Red softened his voice and leaned closer in concern, “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”
“I… I’m not sure.” It was the truth – she knew she had reached the Forest, but she had never come across any human dwellings. As a matter of fact, she knew there weren’t any humans living in the Forest… Ronan would never have allowed it…
“Do you know why you were in Germany in the first place?”
She had been drifting off into her own thoughts and Red’s voice shook her, “Huh?”
Red sighed and spoke slowly, as if Sean herself might be a little slow, “You’re obviously from Britain… do you remember why you came to Germany?”
“Germany?” she felt her mouth go agape.
“Did you not know? Where were you trying to Apparate?”
It was a dangerous question – which required a careful answer. She knew she could trust this man, but if she was right… about everything… if she was traced back here… he could not know. “I don’t remember.”
“Partial memory loss is not unusual in post-traumatic situations, try not to worry.” Red forced a smile, “Listen Sabriel, is there anyone I can send a post to? I’m sure you’ve got family worried about you somewhere…”
She let her head hang dejectedly between her shoulders, “Thank you, but there’s no one.”
Red inched closer, “Are you sure--”
“No one.” Her voice was cold and fostered an uncomfortable silence for the first time between them. Red’s worry for Sean seemed to grow in the quiet, and she could feel his faint hurt prickle into her spine. She sighed heavily, “I am very grateful everything you’ve done for me, I really am – but I cannot stay here.”
“If you’re in any kind of trouble,” Red began carefully, “I’d like to help. My wife and I would be happy to give you sanctuary here…”
She took a few deep breaths to ensure her voice remained calm, “I appreciate the offer, but I cannot impose any longer.”
Somewhat surprisingly, Red smiled, “Well, I’m afraid there’s not much you can do about that.” Sean furrowed her brow in stunned confusion, causing Red to laugh (much to her annoyance), “I’m sorry, Sabriel, but you’re not well enough for travel just yet.” He indicated her limp, left arm resting beside him, then folded his hands serenely in his lap.
Sean glanced to her arm, sneering at it as if it might have recently insulted her, “How long?”
“It’ll be at least four weeks before it’s fully healed,” Sean scoffed, “but you should be able to travel by the month’s end.” Red conceded, still smiling wisely as his brown eyes twinkled beneath his square spectacles. Sean nodded and swallowed before opening her mouth to speak, but Red anticipated her question, “It’s January seventeenth, in case you were wondering.”
“January what?!” Sean nearly screeched in shock.
Red smile grew thin and wide in a failed attempt to hide his laughter, “Yes, well, you have been unconscious for over a fortnight. It’s quite common with that level of blood loss.” His smile faded quickly as silence settled over them once more.
“I…” Sean started hesitantly, “I’m not sure what happened…”
Red stood up suddenly and turned away from her, removing his spectacles and running his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. He looked somehow even shorter without his glasses and smile, and he replaced the glasses as he drew his wand from his right trouser pocket and conjured a soft arm chair beside Sean’s sick bed. He pushed his wand roughly onto the bedside table, drawing her gaze so she noticed a severed wand for the first time…but she couldn’t worry about that right now... Red slumped into the chair, accentuating his age and width as the buttons of his waistcoat pulled sideways in strain and his right knee popped. “It was my wife who found you,” he began sadly, averting her gaze, “on the other side of the Forest. She had thought you were a vampire victim at first, but there were no puncture wounds that we could see. Most of the blood seemed to be coming from your arm, but it was damn hard to see with all that blood and snow… You were so pale… Once I siphoned off most of the blood, we could see your arm properly; it was almost completely severed at the bicep except for a bit of sinew and skin just barely holding it together. It looked like you might’ve tried to Apparate with an injury and nearly splinched yourself in the process…” Red sat back in his chair and massaged his brow with his eyes shut tight as he tried not to picture her half-mangled body for the umpteenth time.
Sean’s gratitude for Red and his wife washed over her in waves – not only for their aid in saving her life, but for his current concern about her reaction over learning the circumstances in which he came to care for her. “I’d like to thank your wife as well, Mr. Red.”
Red pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and smiled sadly, “Please, it’s just ‘Red’, and I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until sundown – she’s currently with her nest.” When Sean didn’t seem to comprehend, he clarified, “She rests with them during the day and returns home at sundown – that’s how she found you, on her way here from the castle on the dark side of Herzogenhorn. She’s a vampire.”
A final, heavy silence settled over them with Red’s admission, both party unsure of what to say next. Sean turned to look out the window, trying to focus on the gray-color of snow in dusk instead of the gray feeling in the pit of her stomach. “You should try and get some more sleep… let that arm of yours heal…”
“Yes, sir.” Sean began to lean backwards to lay back down, her movements feeling stiff as if someone else were controlling her like an automaton.
“It’ll be night soon,” she heard Red rising from his seat, “I need to start dinner for Kuroi – I’ll come and check on you in the morning.” His footsteps drew away from the bed and towards the doorway, “Goodnight, Sabriel.”
“Goodnight, Red.” And there in the mounting darkness, in spite of everything that occurred, Sean closed her eyes and fell away into slumber without a moment’s hesitation.
please review!
21. Red and Black
“Agh!” A fierce bolt of pain shot through her left arm, shoving her into consciousness. Sean moved to grab her throbbing bicep instinctually, but immediately drew her right hand back as she gasped in pain once more. Gritting her teeth, she forced her eyes open through a watery wince to see what had so agonizingly disturbed her slumber. Lying atop soft, black sheets rested her useless, unresponsive left arm – covered completely from shoulder to fingertips in a bandage that was stained pale pink after being doused in an ash-smelling potion. For a moment, Sean wondered what happened to her to cause this injury – but the moment passed quickly as her eyes widened in a raw gasp with the return of her memory… Neville… Firenze… Harry… the Hospital… Aurors… Ron… the Forest… the Forest!
“Agh!” Sean jolted upright in her clarity of memory, once again hurting her bandaged arm. Wait, she told herself, bandages? She remembered Apparating out of St. Mungo’s to the Forbidden Forest – she even remembered hitting the ground – but there was no recollection of this place. Slowly, Sean looked all around the room while she wracked her brain for some inkling as to how she came to be here, but there was nothing. The white walls had been decorated lovingly with black and red Japanese cherry blossoms and vines that wove all around the room and seemed to curl around the bay windows and open door frame. The bed in which she lay had been neatly tucked in around her with black sheets made of (if she wasn’t mistaken) satin, and there was a bedside table on her left made of dark cherry wood that had been laden with potion bottles in an unfamiliar language and more bandage supplies. If one were to look in the room from the doorway, the sleigh bed would be towards the left corner of the room against the wall, leaving a small walking space between the bed and the back wall to access the bay windows and the right wall open for its display. Sean turned her head to look out the windows, hoping for some sign of recognition as the bright sunlight streamed in between the snow-covered tree branches, but there was none. Confusion and hopelessness began to course throughout her, though she Felt some defiant sense of calm deep within her…
“Sie sollten ausruhen werden.”
Sean started (causing her to wince in pain... again) and spun back around to see a stout, bespectacled man leaning on the doorframe. He was smiling softly, and Sean realized instantly that she had been Experiencing this man’s calm – not her own, and she was suddenly incapable of proper speech. “Sie werden wollen, festsetzen.” The man stepped forward and offered his hand to guide her bandaged arm back to its resting position while she carefully slouched backwards to lie once more.
“Where… where am I?” Sean finally managed, breathlessly.
The small man smiled, accenting the lines of age around his mouth and eyes, “My home.”
She knew she should feel more concerned for her own safety, yet she found herself remarkably trusting of the elderly man as she Felt his care for her quite clearly. Sean opened to mouth to speak, but furrowed her brow and stammered as thousands of questions raced through her mind, “I… I…”
“Shh, now. It’s alright, dear. You just get some rest, and call me if you need anything. I’m Red.” Sean forced herself to return the man’s kind smile, then drifted away back into slumber.
“Come on, dear, it’s about time you woke up.” The soft voice was calling to her from far away, and she moaned her dissent and let herself yield to sleep once more. “Sorry, love, but you really need to eat something. You’ve got to wake up now.” The wonderful, earthy aroma of hot tomato soup drifted into her nose and she suddenly found herself much more amenable to rousing. Remembering her last venture into consciousness, Sean rolled carefully onto her right side and pushed herself up to a sitting position with her uninjured arm before taking in Red’s sympathetic visage and smile. “That’s better.” Red scooped a large spoonful out of the bowl and blew on it gently before bringing it close to Sean’s lips.
Every fiber of her being was screaming for her to take the soup without judgment, but Sean knew better than to accept anything from someone she didn’t know; there were still a myriad of questions running through her mind about this man ‘Red’ and his intentions, and she swallowed dryly before speaking. “Why are you doing this?”
Red sighed, though his smile did not fade, and he replaced the spoon in the soup bowl and placed it carefully on the side table. “I guess I never really overcame my obligations to those in need when I was a Healer… and perhaps you showing up in this Forest sparked my curiosity.” Red grinned. Curiosity. It was an understatement; he was deeply intrigued as to her presence in this undiscovered part of the Forest and his eyes were fixed upon her face as if he might be trying to perform Legilimency. Still, there weren’t any Feelings of concealment or mistrust at all within the former Healer beside her, and Sean nodded to accept his explanation. “What’s your name, dear?”
“Sabriel, Sabriel Henry.” Sean had taken to calling herself ‘Sabriel’ not only out of habit, but necessity – Sean was not a common female name and she wasn’t sure to what lengths the Auror Office might have gone in pursuit of her.
“That’s a pretty name, does it mean anything?”
Sean suppressed rolling her eyes; she knew Red was trying to build a rapport with her and she did not care to share of herself… but he had saved her life… “It means ‘strength of the father’.”
Red softened his voice and leaned closer in concern, “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”
“I… I’m not sure.” It was the truth – she knew she had reached the Forest, but she had never come across any human dwellings. As a matter of fact, she knew there weren’t any humans living in the Forest… Ronan would never have allowed it…
“Do you know why you were in Germany in the first place?”
She had been drifting off into her own thoughts and Red’s voice shook her, “Huh?”
Red sighed and spoke slowly, as if Sean herself might be a little slow, “You’re obviously from Britain… do you remember why you came to Germany?”
“Germany?” she felt her mouth go agape.
“Did you not know? Where were you trying to Apparate?”
It was a dangerous question – which required a careful answer. She knew she could trust this man, but if she was right… about everything… if she was traced back here… he could not know. “I don’t remember.”
“Partial memory loss is not unusual in post-traumatic situations, try not to worry.” Red forced a smile, “Listen Sabriel, is there anyone I can send a post to? I’m sure you’ve got family worried about you somewhere…”
She let her head hang dejectedly between her shoulders, “Thank you, but there’s no one.”
Red inched closer, “Are you sure--”
“No one.” Her voice was cold and fostered an uncomfortable silence for the first time between them. Red’s worry for Sean seemed to grow in the quiet, and she could feel his faint hurt prickle into her spine. She sighed heavily, “I am very grateful everything you’ve done for me, I really am – but I cannot stay here.”
“If you’re in any kind of trouble,” Red began carefully, “I’d like to help. My wife and I would be happy to give you sanctuary here…”
She took a few deep breaths to ensure her voice remained calm, “I appreciate the offer, but I cannot impose any longer.”
Somewhat surprisingly, Red smiled, “Well, I’m afraid there’s not much you can do about that.” Sean furrowed her brow in stunned confusion, causing Red to laugh (much to her annoyance), “I’m sorry, Sabriel, but you’re not well enough for travel just yet.” He indicated her limp, left arm resting beside him, then folded his hands serenely in his lap.
Sean glanced to her arm, sneering at it as if it might have recently insulted her, “How long?”
“It’ll be at least four weeks before it’s fully healed,” Sean scoffed, “but you should be able to travel by the month’s end.” Red conceded, still smiling wisely as his brown eyes twinkled beneath his square spectacles. Sean nodded and swallowed before opening her mouth to speak, but Red anticipated her question, “It’s January seventeenth, in case you were wondering.”
“January what?!” Sean nearly screeched in shock.
Red smile grew thin and wide in a failed attempt to hide his laughter, “Yes, well, you have been unconscious for over a fortnight. It’s quite common with that level of blood loss.” His smile faded quickly as silence settled over them once more.
“I…” Sean started hesitantly, “I’m not sure what happened…”
Red stood up suddenly and turned away from her, removing his spectacles and running his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. He looked somehow even shorter without his glasses and smile, and he replaced the glasses as he drew his wand from his right trouser pocket and conjured a soft arm chair beside Sean’s sick bed. He pushed his wand roughly onto the bedside table, drawing her gaze so she noticed a severed wand for the first time…but she couldn’t worry about that right now... Red slumped into the chair, accentuating his age and width as the buttons of his waistcoat pulled sideways in strain and his right knee popped. “It was my wife who found you,” he began sadly, averting her gaze, “on the other side of the Forest. She had thought you were a vampire victim at first, but there were no puncture wounds that we could see. Most of the blood seemed to be coming from your arm, but it was damn hard to see with all that blood and snow… You were so pale… Once I siphoned off most of the blood, we could see your arm properly; it was almost completely severed at the bicep except for a bit of sinew and skin just barely holding it together. It looked like you might’ve tried to Apparate with an injury and nearly splinched yourself in the process…” Red sat back in his chair and massaged his brow with his eyes shut tight as he tried not to picture her half-mangled body for the umpteenth time.
Sean’s gratitude for Red and his wife washed over her in waves – not only for their aid in saving her life, but for his current concern about her reaction over learning the circumstances in which he came to care for her. “I’d like to thank your wife as well, Mr. Red.”
Red pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and smiled sadly, “Please, it’s just ‘Red’, and I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until sundown – she’s currently with her nest.” When Sean didn’t seem to comprehend, he clarified, “She rests with them during the day and returns home at sundown – that’s how she found you, on her way here from the castle on the dark side of Herzogenhorn. She’s a vampire.”
A final, heavy silence settled over them with Red’s admission, both party unsure of what to say next. Sean turned to look out the window, trying to focus on the gray-color of snow in dusk instead of the gray feeling in the pit of her stomach. “You should try and get some more sleep… let that arm of yours heal…”
“Yes, sir.” Sean began to lean backwards to lay back down, her movements feeling stiff as if someone else were controlling her like an automaton.
“It’ll be night soon,” she heard Red rising from his seat, “I need to start dinner for Kuroi – I’ll come and check on you in the morning.” His footsteps drew away from the bed and towards the doorway, “Goodnight, Sabriel.”
“Goodnight, Red.” And there in the mounting darkness, in spite of everything that occurred, Sean closed her eyes and fell away into slumber without a moment’s hesitation.
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a/n: so sorry for the wait! i hope it was worth it...
22. Spite and Still
Sitting up in the sleigh bed, Sean twirled an Augurey feather in the her right hand while its broken wooden casing lay in her lap amidst folds of black satin. The green-black of the feather had a remarkable sheen to it even in the early darkness of evening, and she found herself surprisingly attached to something she had never even seen until a week prior to this night. There were simultaneous urges in her fingers to both destroy and preserve the feather, but she felt inexplicably incapable of making a decision - exacerbating her aggravation at the feather even further.
“Damn.” Sean huffed, and reached over her bandaged left arm to wrench open the drawer of the bedside table. There was a dull ‘thud’ from the force of the drawer opening and she noticed a book face-down in the basin of the drawer, which she promptly removed and thrust her wand fragments and core unceremoniously inside. Roughly, she shoved the book face-down onto the table and slammed the drawer closed with a low growl.
It had been another week in the Black Forest – another week of her time and her plan wasted. Red had told her she had to heal… for what? Her life? She could never go back, not now. She had always known that it was a possibility, but never like this – hell, it had been Ron’s ruddy idea for her to hide! It had been so simple three months ago… disappear until Ron and Kingsley sorted it all out. But it was also the simplicity that had been her downfall - relying on others and their acquisition of knowledge instead of her own. If she had known then what she would discover and what it all could mean, would she still have listened to Ron? Would she still have left everyone she cared about behind? Absolutely, though her motives would be drastically different.
None of it mattered anymore. It was done, and it would never be the same. Her only glimmer of a hope at a return to her previous life was ignoring the past and pushing forward, something she was currently incapable of doing as she sat nearly immobilized on the guest bed in Red’s tree house. She scoffed involuntarily; Sean had initially denigrated the idea of a grown man living in a giant house built among the Black Forest canopy, but had come around to understand its advantages as Red told her more and more about the Forest and its inhabitants – including vampires. He claimed that they had been living on this land for the better part of a millennium, slowly being pushed further and further into the mountains as muggle villages expanded into the outskirts of the Forest. Furthermore, Red even claimed to be married to a vampire of Japanese heritage by the name of Kuroi (which apparently meant “black”) who had found and saved Sean when she accidentally Apparated to the Black Forest. Sean liked Red well enough, but she had yet to Feel a woman’s presence in the house, nor could she reconcile how a vampire would call a wizard for help to save a human rather than just feed on her. An involuntary shiver stole down her spine.
Sean shook her head as if trying to cast her hair out of her eyes, forgetting that her dark, scarlet-red hair was currently about three centimeters long. Still, her uneasiness lingered defiantly, and she carefully uncrossed her legs to draw her knees close to her chest protectively as another chill wave crept over her.
“Hello.”
“Argh!” Sean started in surprise, half-jumping from the bed and twisting her shoulder painfully. She grit her teeth as her eyes slammed shut to prevent tears of agony from leaking out.
“Kawaii! I’m so sorry!” She could feel someone sitting on the edge of the bed, gently lifting her bandaged arm so she couldn’t injure it any further.
Finally, Sean’s heartbeat began to return to a normal pulse and her breathing slowed enough for her to trust herself once more, “Thank you.” Sean whispered, opening her eyes only to inhale in surprise – the most beautiful woman she had ever seen was smiling at her from the edge of her bed. Time seemed to stop for a moment as Sean took her in… the woman’s perfect, porcelain skin seemed to emit a soft glow that filled the air around them both, and her dark, almond eyes felt like the pierce of a centaurian arrow right through her. There was a certain sharpness to the cut of her black bob, but it gave a sense of youth to her appearance that countered the wisdom in her eyes – the woman was so simply beautiful that it made Sean ache in the pit of her stomach like a young girl who longs to become a woman of her own.
“Hello.” The woman spoke softly, though her voice seemed to echo slightly like the vibrations of bells after being struck.
Sean’s mouth had fallen agape without her knowledge, and she felt powerless to respond. “H-hello…” she finally managed, however feebly.
The woman smiled as her cherry blossom lips grew wide, “I am Kuroi – Red’s wife.”
Red has a wife? Since when? Oh, Kuroi… the wife… right… The wife? The vampire! “I-I am S-sabriel.”
Kuroi laughed quietly, “I know. I have been taking care of you the past few weeks – during the night, of course.”
“The n-night?” Sean couldn’t help the nervous stutter, but whether it came from Kuroi’s beauty or condition, she didn’t know.
“I am a vampire – Red has not told you?” Kuroi raised a curious eyebrow, though her smile did not falter.
Her mind had gone inexplicably blank, and her words seemed to form of their own volition. “N-no. He t-told me.”
“Do not be frightened, kawaii, I will not harm you.” Kuroi whispered gently, placing her long, perfect hand onto Sean’s bandaged arm and suddenly – Sean knew she was not afraid. “I do not feed from humans.”
Sean let her shoulders relax and her legs slid down to fall into a cross-legged position once more, “Okay.”
Kuroi laughed, “My husband has kept me on a diet of dragon’s blood for many years now – it is more satisfying and filling than human blood and reduces my cravings.”
There was a sudden urge to pull away from Kuroi once more but Sean could only manage a wince that faded as quickly as it came, and she was surprisingly still untroubled. “Okay.”
Kuroi’s eyes grew thin for a moment as she considered Sean while silence fell over them like a warm blanket, “How are you doing, Sabriel?”
Sean’s eyes fell down into her lap. “Okay.” The emptiness she felt remained, like all of her emotions had been hollowed out and she was only a shell of a human being.
“I was watching you earlier - I know what you’re going through.” Kuroi moved her hand down the bandaged arm to stroke her cold fingers soothingly over Sean’s palm. “I remember what it felt like when my wand stopped working after I died.”
“Oh.” Sean didn’t look up. She wanted to ask Kuroi how it felt to lose her wand… how it felt to die… but she felt childlike and meek, and she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know the answers.
A cold hand softly graced Sean’s cheek and lifted her head ever-so-slightly to face Kuroi again, “It’s okay, kawaii. I don’t mind talking about it – I’ve been dead a very long time.” Sean forced herself to smile, though it felt unnatural. “When I died, all the magic I had as a witch died with me to give way to the vampire magic that now flows through me. It came as a bit of a shock, really, and it was the hardest thing to release from my mortal life.”
“I’m sorry.” It was true – she was sorry, but she wasn’t sure why. There was something strange happening to her as long as Kuroi kept her gaze, and Sean couldn’t muster the will to fight it.
Kuroi brushed the unkempt ends of Sean’s short hair behind her ears with her long, elegant fingernails, “Have you ever lost a wand before?”
“I haven’t, but I had a friend who lost one once.” Sean answered with an internal twinge at recognizing the past she had been concealing from Red. “He said it was like losing a friend.”
“Is that how you feel?” Kuroi’s voice was melodic and soothing, urging Sean to divulge more of herself.
“No. I hated my wand.” Sean inhaled sharply at her extremely personal admission, but she continued – unable to stop herself, “It was inherited from my grandfather.”
“I thought you didn’t have any family.” There was a note of hurt in her voice that returned Sean’s sense of fear ever-so-slightly.
“I-I don’t… not really...” Sean swallowed hard, “M-my mother gave it to me when I turned eleven – it was her last birthday present to me.” She wasn’t lying, but her breathing had become hard and uneven as she edited her tone to make it sound as if her mother had died.
“I’m sorry, kawaii.” Kuroi smiled sadly, accepting the story, and Sean exhaled heavily. “Your grandfather, was he a good man?”
Kuroi had caught her off-guard, and Sean started to speak before thinking, “I don’t know – I only met him once, but he was rather wealthy.” To her horror, Sean kept talking as if she had verbal diarrhea, “He bought an Augurey to show his Celtic pride. It was said he loved the Augurey so much that he commissioned Ollivander to make a wand using one of the bird’s tail feathers. It is believed he had the only Irish phoenix wand ever made, but he became too ill to use the wand in his later years. My mother passed it to me a few years before he died to spite her siblings from acquiring it in his will.” There were tear deposits at the corner of Sean’s eyes from the nearly unbearable pain of talking against her will.
“What was your grandfather’s name, kawaii?” Kuroi leaned forward towards Sean almost imperceptibly.
“Finnigan.” Sean choked, “John Finnigan.” Another twisted truth – John Finnigan was her paternal, not maternal, grandfather… no amount of vampire magic could get her to divulge her wizard-grandfather’s name.
Kuroi eyed Sean again, her thoughtful dark eyes almost piercing through her skin, then finally sighed (which was more for dramatic effect since she didn’t breathe anymore) and placed a cold hand on top of Sean’s right in an effort to be comforting, “I am sorry, Sabriel.”
The emptiness suddenly lifted from Sean, leaving an ironic feeling of lightness upon her chest. “Me too…” she sighed breathlessly.
Kuroi patted her hand much more genially than before, “I just want you to know that you can count on Red and I for anything, kawaii. We are here for you.”
There was an initial urge to scoff at the woman who had just tried to siphon information out of her using dark magic, but Sean considered Kuroi and found herself actually believing the vampire of her own will. “Thank you.”
There was a sudden lurching sound that came from the hallway, and a booming genial voice called, “Kuroi?”
“Coming, watashi no.” Kuroi called back, and she turned to face Sean a final time, “Get some rest, Sabriel, and I will see you tomorrow evening.”
Sean nodded as Kuroi rose from the bed and stole from the room with fluid, almost ethereal movements. Upon her departure, Sean felt yet another shiver envelope her entire being and stifled a whimper of pain – why had Kuroi done this? Didn’t Red trust her? A horrible thought crossed her mind… why had she been so quick to trust him? What could he be planning with her? What if he was working with… oh, God! There was no other choice – Sean would have to use her Sight to find out the truth. It had been months since she had forced herself to See into the emotions of others, and so much had happened since that October night… Sean wondered if she would even be capable of Seeing with her current condition, but she carefully lowered herself into a lying position nonetheless. She had come to trust Red and he had betrayed her – she had to know why.
Closing her eyes, Sean began to concentrate on the rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat. Nothing was happening. Stretching her neck left and right, Sean took a deep breath and tried once more, relaxing her breathing and focusing only on the sound of her heart beating against her ribcage. Slowly, very slowly, the echo of her heartbeat began to fill up every part of her body until her skin seemed to vibrate with each pulse… A forced thought of Red pulled her backwards like a hook dragging her through the bed and various rooms of the tree house until the sensation stopped abruptly in a room she had never seen before, but recognized enough elements to understand it as a sitting room. Red and Kuroi were sitting on opposite ends of a red couch, the flames of the fireplace before them only warming Red’s skin. Kuroi’s long, elegant legs were drawn lovingly onto Red’s lap while he stroked them absentmindedly with one hand and his head rested in the other.
“What do you think we should do?” Kuroi asked quietly, her almond eyes fallen low in concern.
Red sighed heavily, “I do not know, my love, I do not know.”
Kuroi hesitated slightly before starting, Sean noticing the first sign of any humanlike characteristics on her worried face, “If she were to stay here…”
“She’s not a child, Kuroi.” Red smiled sadly as he considered his wife, “We cannot ask her to be that for us.”
“But, watashi no, if—”
“She is not a child, my love.” Red repeatedly firmly, though gentle concern remained in his voice. Kuroi let her head fall sideways to rest on the back of the sofa and Red extended a hand to tenderly caress her cheek before sighing once more, “I was sure she was lying…”
“There is no family waiting for her, I am sure of it.” Kuroi whispered, her voice cracking in sadness.
“A beautiful girl like that has to have someone who cares about her somewhere…” Red shook his head dejectedly, “She has to be in some kind of trouble, I am sure of it. We have to help her, Kuroi – I refuse to let her leave like this.”
Kuroi moved closer to her husband, her sad smile returned as she kissed his cheek sweetly, “You are a good man, Eldred, but you cannot help everyone. If she is in any danger, that is her business. If she were to stay here, however, then it would be our business…” Kuroi looked up hopefully into her husband’s face.
Red laughed quietly, “She cannot make up for our lack of children, my love. But maybe we will ask her to stay with us - though the decision is hers.”
Kuroi’s face lit up, giving the entire room an angelic glow that had nothing to do with the fireplace, “Of course, watashi no, of course!”
There was an ache in her soul as Sean let go of her Sight and allowed her body and essence to unite once more in the guest bedroom of the tree house. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling in self-disgust; not everyone is out to get you, Sean. How could you think that of Red? They want to help you – they want to be your family, for Merlin’s sake... It was a few moments before Sean realized that she was crying for the first time in recent memory – not ‘tearing up’, genuinely crying. With everything that happened the past three months, she had forgotten that there were still good people out there in the world. Somehow, in spite of all the turmoil and unrest within her own little world, there were still families out there – striving to do good and be good people… there was even one who wanted her to join theirs!
She had to finish it. There was no other choice – not that there ever was before, but now… She just had to finish it once and for all, which meant one thing – she would have to see Harry.
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22. Spite and Still
Sitting up in the sleigh bed, Sean twirled an Augurey feather in the her right hand while its broken wooden casing lay in her lap amidst folds of black satin. The green-black of the feather had a remarkable sheen to it even in the early darkness of evening, and she found herself surprisingly attached to something she had never even seen until a week prior to this night. There were simultaneous urges in her fingers to both destroy and preserve the feather, but she felt inexplicably incapable of making a decision - exacerbating her aggravation at the feather even further.
“Damn.” Sean huffed, and reached over her bandaged left arm to wrench open the drawer of the bedside table. There was a dull ‘thud’ from the force of the drawer opening and she noticed a book face-down in the basin of the drawer, which she promptly removed and thrust her wand fragments and core unceremoniously inside. Roughly, she shoved the book face-down onto the table and slammed the drawer closed with a low growl.
It had been another week in the Black Forest – another week of her time and her plan wasted. Red had told her she had to heal… for what? Her life? She could never go back, not now. She had always known that it was a possibility, but never like this – hell, it had been Ron’s ruddy idea for her to hide! It had been so simple three months ago… disappear until Ron and Kingsley sorted it all out. But it was also the simplicity that had been her downfall - relying on others and their acquisition of knowledge instead of her own. If she had known then what she would discover and what it all could mean, would she still have listened to Ron? Would she still have left everyone she cared about behind? Absolutely, though her motives would be drastically different.
None of it mattered anymore. It was done, and it would never be the same. Her only glimmer of a hope at a return to her previous life was ignoring the past and pushing forward, something she was currently incapable of doing as she sat nearly immobilized on the guest bed in Red’s tree house. She scoffed involuntarily; Sean had initially denigrated the idea of a grown man living in a giant house built among the Black Forest canopy, but had come around to understand its advantages as Red told her more and more about the Forest and its inhabitants – including vampires. He claimed that they had been living on this land for the better part of a millennium, slowly being pushed further and further into the mountains as muggle villages expanded into the outskirts of the Forest. Furthermore, Red even claimed to be married to a vampire of Japanese heritage by the name of Kuroi (which apparently meant “black”) who had found and saved Sean when she accidentally Apparated to the Black Forest. Sean liked Red well enough, but she had yet to Feel a woman’s presence in the house, nor could she reconcile how a vampire would call a wizard for help to save a human rather than just feed on her. An involuntary shiver stole down her spine.
Sean shook her head as if trying to cast her hair out of her eyes, forgetting that her dark, scarlet-red hair was currently about three centimeters long. Still, her uneasiness lingered defiantly, and she carefully uncrossed her legs to draw her knees close to her chest protectively as another chill wave crept over her.
“Hello.”
“Argh!” Sean started in surprise, half-jumping from the bed and twisting her shoulder painfully. She grit her teeth as her eyes slammed shut to prevent tears of agony from leaking out.
“Kawaii! I’m so sorry!” She could feel someone sitting on the edge of the bed, gently lifting her bandaged arm so she couldn’t injure it any further.
Finally, Sean’s heartbeat began to return to a normal pulse and her breathing slowed enough for her to trust herself once more, “Thank you.” Sean whispered, opening her eyes only to inhale in surprise – the most beautiful woman she had ever seen was smiling at her from the edge of her bed. Time seemed to stop for a moment as Sean took her in… the woman’s perfect, porcelain skin seemed to emit a soft glow that filled the air around them both, and her dark, almond eyes felt like the pierce of a centaurian arrow right through her. There was a certain sharpness to the cut of her black bob, but it gave a sense of youth to her appearance that countered the wisdom in her eyes – the woman was so simply beautiful that it made Sean ache in the pit of her stomach like a young girl who longs to become a woman of her own.
“Hello.” The woman spoke softly, though her voice seemed to echo slightly like the vibrations of bells after being struck.
Sean’s mouth had fallen agape without her knowledge, and she felt powerless to respond. “H-hello…” she finally managed, however feebly.
The woman smiled as her cherry blossom lips grew wide, “I am Kuroi – Red’s wife.”
Red has a wife? Since when? Oh, Kuroi… the wife… right… The wife? The vampire! “I-I am S-sabriel.”
Kuroi laughed quietly, “I know. I have been taking care of you the past few weeks – during the night, of course.”
“The n-night?” Sean couldn’t help the nervous stutter, but whether it came from Kuroi’s beauty or condition, she didn’t know.
“I am a vampire – Red has not told you?” Kuroi raised a curious eyebrow, though her smile did not falter.
Her mind had gone inexplicably blank, and her words seemed to form of their own volition. “N-no. He t-told me.”
“Do not be frightened, kawaii, I will not harm you.” Kuroi whispered gently, placing her long, perfect hand onto Sean’s bandaged arm and suddenly – Sean knew she was not afraid. “I do not feed from humans.”
Sean let her shoulders relax and her legs slid down to fall into a cross-legged position once more, “Okay.”
Kuroi laughed, “My husband has kept me on a diet of dragon’s blood for many years now – it is more satisfying and filling than human blood and reduces my cravings.”
There was a sudden urge to pull away from Kuroi once more but Sean could only manage a wince that faded as quickly as it came, and she was surprisingly still untroubled. “Okay.”
Kuroi’s eyes grew thin for a moment as she considered Sean while silence fell over them like a warm blanket, “How are you doing, Sabriel?”
Sean’s eyes fell down into her lap. “Okay.” The emptiness she felt remained, like all of her emotions had been hollowed out and she was only a shell of a human being.
“I was watching you earlier - I know what you’re going through.” Kuroi moved her hand down the bandaged arm to stroke her cold fingers soothingly over Sean’s palm. “I remember what it felt like when my wand stopped working after I died.”
“Oh.” Sean didn’t look up. She wanted to ask Kuroi how it felt to lose her wand… how it felt to die… but she felt childlike and meek, and she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know the answers.
A cold hand softly graced Sean’s cheek and lifted her head ever-so-slightly to face Kuroi again, “It’s okay, kawaii. I don’t mind talking about it – I’ve been dead a very long time.” Sean forced herself to smile, though it felt unnatural. “When I died, all the magic I had as a witch died with me to give way to the vampire magic that now flows through me. It came as a bit of a shock, really, and it was the hardest thing to release from my mortal life.”
“I’m sorry.” It was true – she was sorry, but she wasn’t sure why. There was something strange happening to her as long as Kuroi kept her gaze, and Sean couldn’t muster the will to fight it.
Kuroi brushed the unkempt ends of Sean’s short hair behind her ears with her long, elegant fingernails, “Have you ever lost a wand before?”
“I haven’t, but I had a friend who lost one once.” Sean answered with an internal twinge at recognizing the past she had been concealing from Red. “He said it was like losing a friend.”
“Is that how you feel?” Kuroi’s voice was melodic and soothing, urging Sean to divulge more of herself.
“No. I hated my wand.” Sean inhaled sharply at her extremely personal admission, but she continued – unable to stop herself, “It was inherited from my grandfather.”
“I thought you didn’t have any family.” There was a note of hurt in her voice that returned Sean’s sense of fear ever-so-slightly.
“I-I don’t… not really...” Sean swallowed hard, “M-my mother gave it to me when I turned eleven – it was her last birthday present to me.” She wasn’t lying, but her breathing had become hard and uneven as she edited her tone to make it sound as if her mother had died.
“I’m sorry, kawaii.” Kuroi smiled sadly, accepting the story, and Sean exhaled heavily. “Your grandfather, was he a good man?”
Kuroi had caught her off-guard, and Sean started to speak before thinking, “I don’t know – I only met him once, but he was rather wealthy.” To her horror, Sean kept talking as if she had verbal diarrhea, “He bought an Augurey to show his Celtic pride. It was said he loved the Augurey so much that he commissioned Ollivander to make a wand using one of the bird’s tail feathers. It is believed he had the only Irish phoenix wand ever made, but he became too ill to use the wand in his later years. My mother passed it to me a few years before he died to spite her siblings from acquiring it in his will.” There were tear deposits at the corner of Sean’s eyes from the nearly unbearable pain of talking against her will.
“What was your grandfather’s name, kawaii?” Kuroi leaned forward towards Sean almost imperceptibly.
“Finnigan.” Sean choked, “John Finnigan.” Another twisted truth – John Finnigan was her paternal, not maternal, grandfather… no amount of vampire magic could get her to divulge her wizard-grandfather’s name.
Kuroi eyed Sean again, her thoughtful dark eyes almost piercing through her skin, then finally sighed (which was more for dramatic effect since she didn’t breathe anymore) and placed a cold hand on top of Sean’s right in an effort to be comforting, “I am sorry, Sabriel.”
The emptiness suddenly lifted from Sean, leaving an ironic feeling of lightness upon her chest. “Me too…” she sighed breathlessly.
Kuroi patted her hand much more genially than before, “I just want you to know that you can count on Red and I for anything, kawaii. We are here for you.”
There was an initial urge to scoff at the woman who had just tried to siphon information out of her using dark magic, but Sean considered Kuroi and found herself actually believing the vampire of her own will. “Thank you.”
There was a sudden lurching sound that came from the hallway, and a booming genial voice called, “Kuroi?”
“Coming, watashi no.” Kuroi called back, and she turned to face Sean a final time, “Get some rest, Sabriel, and I will see you tomorrow evening.”
Sean nodded as Kuroi rose from the bed and stole from the room with fluid, almost ethereal movements. Upon her departure, Sean felt yet another shiver envelope her entire being and stifled a whimper of pain – why had Kuroi done this? Didn’t Red trust her? A horrible thought crossed her mind… why had she been so quick to trust him? What could he be planning with her? What if he was working with… oh, God! There was no other choice – Sean would have to use her Sight to find out the truth. It had been months since she had forced herself to See into the emotions of others, and so much had happened since that October night… Sean wondered if she would even be capable of Seeing with her current condition, but she carefully lowered herself into a lying position nonetheless. She had come to trust Red and he had betrayed her – she had to know why.
Closing her eyes, Sean began to concentrate on the rhythmic pulse of her heartbeat. Nothing was happening. Stretching her neck left and right, Sean took a deep breath and tried once more, relaxing her breathing and focusing only on the sound of her heart beating against her ribcage. Slowly, very slowly, the echo of her heartbeat began to fill up every part of her body until her skin seemed to vibrate with each pulse… A forced thought of Red pulled her backwards like a hook dragging her through the bed and various rooms of the tree house until the sensation stopped abruptly in a room she had never seen before, but recognized enough elements to understand it as a sitting room. Red and Kuroi were sitting on opposite ends of a red couch, the flames of the fireplace before them only warming Red’s skin. Kuroi’s long, elegant legs were drawn lovingly onto Red’s lap while he stroked them absentmindedly with one hand and his head rested in the other.
“What do you think we should do?” Kuroi asked quietly, her almond eyes fallen low in concern.
Red sighed heavily, “I do not know, my love, I do not know.”
Kuroi hesitated slightly before starting, Sean noticing the first sign of any humanlike characteristics on her worried face, “If she were to stay here…”
“She’s not a child, Kuroi.” Red smiled sadly as he considered his wife, “We cannot ask her to be that for us.”
“But, watashi no, if—”
“She is not a child, my love.” Red repeatedly firmly, though gentle concern remained in his voice. Kuroi let her head fall sideways to rest on the back of the sofa and Red extended a hand to tenderly caress her cheek before sighing once more, “I was sure she was lying…”
“There is no family waiting for her, I am sure of it.” Kuroi whispered, her voice cracking in sadness.
“A beautiful girl like that has to have someone who cares about her somewhere…” Red shook his head dejectedly, “She has to be in some kind of trouble, I am sure of it. We have to help her, Kuroi – I refuse to let her leave like this.”
Kuroi moved closer to her husband, her sad smile returned as she kissed his cheek sweetly, “You are a good man, Eldred, but you cannot help everyone. If she is in any danger, that is her business. If she were to stay here, however, then it would be our business…” Kuroi looked up hopefully into her husband’s face.
Red laughed quietly, “She cannot make up for our lack of children, my love. But maybe we will ask her to stay with us - though the decision is hers.”
Kuroi’s face lit up, giving the entire room an angelic glow that had nothing to do with the fireplace, “Of course, watashi no, of course!”
There was an ache in her soul as Sean let go of her Sight and allowed her body and essence to unite once more in the guest bedroom of the tree house. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling in self-disgust; not everyone is out to get you, Sean. How could you think that of Red? They want to help you – they want to be your family, for Merlin’s sake... It was a few moments before Sean realized that she was crying for the first time in recent memory – not ‘tearing up’, genuinely crying. With everything that happened the past three months, she had forgotten that there were still good people out there in the world. Somehow, in spite of all the turmoil and unrest within her own little world, there were still families out there – striving to do good and be good people… there was even one who wanted her to join theirs!
She had to finish it. There was no other choice – not that there ever was before, but now… She just had to finish it once and for all, which meant one thing – she would have to see Harry.
please review!
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