The Moon Has Spoken

Fiddler woke up early and, after taking a quick shower, she eased into her long forgotten riding attire. It was black in color, with a neckcloth made of her adoptive mother’s family Tartan, matching the cuffs and the hem of her beret. She looked at her leather boots, that Molly had insisted on polishing, and put them on. She then grabbed the suitcase where she had carefully packed the dress she’d wear for the ball, and she left her room with notn a n a glance at her reflection.
She had always said she was allergic to mirrors.

She heard a noise when going downstairs, as if someone had drawn in a deep breath, but she looked everywhere and saw no one, so she met the others at the main door, all of them carrying bags and wearing long jackets and dark trousers, except for Tonks and Ginny, that brought the cheery touch by wearing similar vibrant crimson outfits.

“Oooooooh!”, Fred said mockingly. “So our dear Banshee knows how to ride!”

They all burst into hearty cackles, and Ron was suicidal enough to add:

“I am sure Snape will be thrilled when he finds out!”

“RONALD WEASLEY!”, Fiddler bellowed, blushing horribly, and she nearly fell over when she heard Severus’ deep voice ask dangerously:

“And why, Mr. Weasley, would I find Miss Greene’s horseriding skills enthralling?”

“Oh—Oh—Um—I—OH—”, Ron stammered, as red as his hair.

“Severus, ignore him”, Fiddler said swiftly, far more calmly than she actually felt. “Let’s go, we’ll be late”.

And she opened the door to head for the garage.

“You know”, Fiddler heard Hermione tell Ginny. “I never noticed before, but don’t you think Professor Snape and Fiddler look alike?”

“Yeah… you’re right!”, Ginny exclaimed. “Maybe it’s the outfit…”

Fiddler eyed Severus out of the corner of her eye. Did they?
Well, maybe the black, straight hair and the milk white skin bore them resemblance, and now that they were dressed in similar attires that similarity was only enhanced. And maybe they did have some behaviors, stances and manners in common. She sighed and willed the thought away.

They were alike. And so what?

Somehow, the kids and Tonks managed to leave Severus stuck with Fiddler in the front seat, and Fiddler found his nearness almost unbearable.

For crying out loud, Fiddler, get a sodding grip!

She sped up through fields of green grass and golden wheat, enjoying the scent of fresh air and musky clovers, trying not to think of the man beside her. But they weren’t making things any easier. Tonks was talking from her elbows about her wonderful Lupin, and Harry and Ginny were glued to each other by the lips. Fiddler could see them through the mirror, and she felt her mouth opening of its own accord.

“Oi!”, it said. “Unglue yourselves now!”

Fred, George, Hermione and Ron burst into laughter, and elbowed the kissing couple.

“Sorry, Mum…”, Ginny said mischievously, but blushed all the same.

“Awww”, Tonks interceded. “C’mon, Fidd, give them a break…”

“No”, she said, mockingly stern. “I am a bitter bitch and I won’t have people kissing in front of me”.

Severus suddenly wondered how serious could she be underneath her scornful statement.

“You are worst than I am”, he said, silkily.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, remembering that time at Yule Ball when they’d seen him blasting rosebushes with his wand, docking points from snogging students, and held back a cackle. But it was in vain, because Fiddler looked at him and said:

“Severus? Bite me”, with such an inflection that none of them could help to laugh, half in amusement, half in sheer shock at Fiddler’s recklessness.

Severus himself was at a loss of words. He stared at her trying to look scathing, but deep down he knew he was failing, all the more when he eavesdropped Ronald’s whisper to either Fred or George:

“I bet the greasy git wouldn’t mind biting her in certain places…”

He stiffened repressively. What was that all about? But he didn’t try to dig in further, because he knew he could expect everything from Potter and the Jolly Weasleys.

Everything but insightfulness, his mind reminded him.

Bollocks. They are not reading into anything.


They were reaching a beautiful paved road, bordered with marble statues that ended in a gate with a coat of arms engraved in crimson granite. The gate opened to let them in, and Fiddler circled a bower at the end of which a ceremonious valet wearing a white wig was waiting for them. They stepped out of the van and Fiddler handed the valet the keys.

They were issued inside the manor and guided amongst richly decorated corridors to the atrium, where quite a bunch of people on horseback were already waiting and buzzing excitedly. Fiddler glanced around to locate Anna, and found her soon enough, stunning in her creamy, long-skirted riding outfit, next to a black haired man with incredibly red lips and pale skin. The Most Honorable Paul Nicholas Francis Malfoy Ahlendale and his titles, presumably.

Fiddler watched Anna elbow him, and the nobleman exclaimed pompously:

“Welcome! Welcome to my humble home!”

He walked regally towards them, arm in arm with Anna, and stopped to bow and kiss the females’ h. Fi. Fiddler stifled a chuckle when he bowed at her twice and said:

“Ah! The famous doctor Greene! Anna speaks most highly of you”.

Anna laughed delightedly as Fiddler raised an eyebrow unwillingly and said, gracefully polite:

“Oh, I am sure, Your Grace”.

“Somehow I always pictured you different, though”, Lord Paul continued. “Maybe older and… Ugly looking?”, his eyes glittered mischeviously and the atmosphere became a little tense. Anna looked at her not-yet fiancé grudgingly, and Fiddler was surprised when she noticed Severus’ expression was more ill-natured than ever.

“Oh, you were right in one, then, Mylord”, she said, evenly.

The Most Noble Paul Malfoy Ahlendale seemed to have lost his ability to reply. He bowed once again and then straightened up and, offering his arm to Anna, he said:

“Shall I lead you to the horses, then?”

They reached the stables, and Lord Paul bid them to pick their horses. They did so shyly, except for Fiddler, whose eye had been caught by a superb black friessian that was walking nervously around its lumberyard. She walked towards it resolutely.

“Fiddler, my lass, I would not advice you to pick High Admiral… We have not tamed him yet…”

And true enough, the horse was neighing fretfully and he didn’t even had a saddle, but Fiddler didn’t falter.

“Don’t worry, Your Grace, I have a thing with animals”.

She stepped into the lumberyard and walked slowly until she reached the animal, then coming to a stop. The buzzing around them diminished and they all turned to see her.

“Hello, High Admiral”, Fiddler said. She extended her left hand and let the horse sniff at it. Slowly, his muscles relaxed and he bowed his head.

“Will you let me ride you?”, she said, and suddenly wanted to laugh as she picked up the double entendre. Thank God the twins weren’t near her. The horse neighed again and snorted, as if agreeing, so Fiddler asked for a saddle and put it on the horse herself.

“Well, Fiddler, I am afraid I will have to fire my horsemen!”, Lord Paul exclaimed cheerfully, and the guests all laughed at the wits of their host.

Soon enough, the fox was released, the hounds, incited, and they were all following the horn through the fields and woods. They split into groups and the kids, under Tonks’ lead, drifted apart, leaving Severus and Fiddler alone, horses slowly walking side by side as their riders talked. Severus noticed she wasn’t carrying a fowling rifle and asked about it.

“Oh, I wouldn’t kill the fox”, she said as if the mere thought pained her. “I enjoy the ride and costumes, but I don’t kill animals”, her tone broke to no argument. “Besides”, she added, “I am a lousy shot”.

Severus eyed her with his fathomless expression but said nothing. He had the impression that he had just managed to break down her walls of mystery a bit to glance within.
And he had liked it.

They rode amiably, discussing various topics, until he asked her how had she managed to bring down the horse.

“I don’t know, really”, she confessed. “I guess animals just like me…” At least someone does, her mind added but didn’t say out loud. “I actually did it with your wolf as well… That day”.

“Did you? Well then, I must bow at your bravery. Nyx trusts no one but me”.

“Nyx?”, Fiddler smiled. “How fitting. Well, she might have sensed I was trying to help you… She seemed very anguished at the sight of you. Whatever happened, by the way?”

Severus sighed. He looked at her hands, holding the reins loosely, and he noted two things. One, she didn’t have a whip either, but he was sure that, if he asked, he’d get a “I don’t whip animals” for an answer; besides, the second thing was unsettling enough to erase that thought away. She still bore the faint mark of his fingers, visible despite the tartan cuffs.
He swallowed.

“Do you still have it?”, he asked.

They were so close together that he could have reached out and touch her hand, but he carefully avoided doing so. Fiddler looked down, and oddly enough, she smiled.

“Yeah…”, she said. “I’m guessing there was some magic involved in it, since it was then when I saw—”, she shut up abruptly.

“Yes?”

She entertained the thought of saying “Nothing”, but instead, she said:

“A graveyard of dreams”.

Severus tensed, but inquired no further.
He didn’t dare to.

“You were going to tell me what happened”, she reminded him.

“I was… Summoned by the Dark Lord”, Severus said stiffly. “I think he is beginning to suspect me of deceMy gMy guess is I was followed on my way back, as you know you cannot Apparate inside Hogwarts grounds… What I cannot fathom is what is it that they wanted of me”.

“Maybe they wanted to find out how to Unplot Grimmauld Place”.

Severus looked at her questioningly.

“Well, I am sure you’re not the only Occlumens in England… And I’m guessing that, if you’re unconscious, it would only make it easier to extract the information out of your mind…”

Severus looked at her, half sneering, half admiring.

“But it is impossible to find out, if Dumbledore does not tell them himself. He is the Secret Keeper”.

“Well, but they found it anyway, so, I assume they used a dark spell or whatever to extricate the information out of you. After all, you knew where the House was as well”.

Severus nodded silently. He suddenly realised the Hunting had been forgotten, and he could not really say he regretted it.

Fiddler was lost in thought, eyes fixed on nothing in particular, as she swayed gently with the horse’s movements. Her hair, gathered in her usual braid, shone blue in the middle of her back. He’d always thougf blf black as a rather cruel color, that would suit perfectly his tendence to tyranny and his gloomy personality, but watching all that darkness around her in the middle of so much green suddenly made him want to revise that opinion. Obsidian hair, dark outfit, black horse…

Well, that horse is not the only obscure thing she brought down… is it?

He straightened his back and try to ignore the thought, but he couldn’t help the unnerving shiver that crept up his spine as he heard her voice inside his head:

But all of this horses,
That you chase around,
In the end they are the ones
That always bring you down,
In this Invisible City,
Where no one sees nothing,
We’re touching faces in the dark,
Feeling pretty is so hard…

He looked at her, transfixed, but she didn’t seem to realise their connection. She was humming softly what Severus assumed was the tune for the song he was also hearing, totally oblivious to her surroundings. He could see a gathering of people not far away from where Fiddler and himself were.

A shot was heard, and Fiddler jerked out of her reverie. Severus watched her go taut. He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t give him the time, as she suddenly grabbed his own reins and dug her heals on High Admiral’s sides, dragging his own horse on tow. He felt a buzzing something pass next to his head, making his hair fly, and he suddenly understood.

“Go, High Admiral, go, go, GO!”, she said urgently as they galloped madly, Fiddler handling both horses with unexpected dexterity. They obeyed her without doubting it, allowing Severus to look back and catch a glance of a hooded figure holding a professional hunter. Fiddler turned without warning, nearly tumbling him down of his horse, but he ged ged to stay on it, and soon enough they’d reached the back of a hill, where she stopped both animals and turned to look at him.

“What—”, he began, but three more shots were heard, nearer this time, and then, the unmistakable screams of a woman torn the air.

“It’s Anna”, Fiddler said.

“Do you think she is hurt?”

Fiddler looked at him, and he was startled at the expression of those greenish blue eyes. She shook her head slowly and he noticed she was paler than usual. Her beret had flown away and soft looking whisps of hair framed her face rather alluringly.
Severus swallowed hard.

“No…”, he heard her say. “My guess is the proud Purebloods just killed one of their members because he dared to love a Muggle”.




A/N.
TBC, please R & R!

As always, thanks to Ian for his brilliant thoughts and beta reading!

Disclaimer: All characters and HP universe belong to J.K. Rowling, except for the ones you don’t recognize. The plot as well is mine and solely mine!! No profit is being made!!!!