One wish alone have I

Chapter 11
A house with whispering walls

I turned back and my eyes levelled with his lips, which were stretched in the warm and welcoming smile he had given me during the meeting. I looked up; that man was impressively tall, once he actually stood next to me. In addition, he seemed to have quite a strong constitution; his shoulders were large, yet he seemed thin. He had the kind of body that is forged with years of lycanthropy transformations: lean and firm muscles that were used to fuel miles and miles of intense chase if the prey was particularly reluctant to be caught.

“Dumbledore told me he would introduce me before the meeting, but he did not have the chance to. I am Remus Lupin,” he said, holding out his hand.

“I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mister Lupin,” I articulated, as politely as I could given the painful and tormented feelings that whirled inside of me.

His hand was large and muscled; I appreciated its comforting warmth and its slightly scabrous touch. The repetitive lycanthropy transformations, if not treated properly after each full moon, usually produce that effect on the skin.

“If we are to share this house together, I think we should call each other by our first names… well, that you should call me by my first name, at least,” he said, smiling even wider.

“I see that you are familiar with the ways of my kind,” I commented. “This is impressive.”

“I don’t pretend I will be able to reproduce the appropriate tones properly, though. If I address you like a house-elf one of these days, I assure you that it will be completely unintended.”

“Then please consider that I do not mind you calling me Antanasia… like a friend. I will ignore the ways you might pronounce it; stop thinking about it,” I replied, putting a comforting hand on his arm. “I am no longer at home, now; my ways are therefore completely irrelevant here.”

Yes, that hurt. That hurt a lot. Not that much when it naturally came out, but quite a lot when it reverberated back to my own ears and heart.

“Would you like a tour? I think everybody has left; I was the last to come out of the meeting room,” he suggested.

“Yes, I would like it very much! Does the house belong to you?” I asked, following him to a poorly lit staircase.

“Yes and no. It has belonged to the Black family for many generations. Its last owner, Sirius, was one of my closest friends. He died, four months ago, during a particularly violent confrontation with a group of Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic,” he explained, his voice sounding a tad more hoarse than a few minutes before.

“Severus told us briefly about it when he was in Zaharia,” I replied, obviously omitting the things he said about that man not being useful for the Order anyway. “I am very sorry for your loss, Remus.”

“It’s ok, I have had plenty of time to think it over… and over. I feel better about it now than I felt right after it happened, that’s a beginning,” he said, with a faint smile. “Anyway, his will made me the co-owner and guardian of the house, until his godson reaches majority and takes full property of it. Until then, I am entitled to live here as I please, which gives me a little less than three years to spend here.”

“Do you enjoy it?” I asked, while he let me in a large room.

“I must say that, once the house has been cleaned, some rooms became very comfortable. This house is the biggest place I have even lived in…. To be honest, it feels a little too big during certain evenings. Especially when the Order has not met in over a week or two.”

“You must feel very lonely indeed, at times…” I said, as empathically as I could.

“Oh, that has been my daily routine since I left my parents’ house, you know! Other than occasional periods with Sirius as a roommate, I have been on my own most of the time. I am not complaining! I consider myself extremely lucky to have a place like this to live in.”

He took out his wand and I gave it a large wave. A few candles lit up here and there, showing me another large table with many wooden chairs. A lonely armchair was resting next to a large fireplace. No fire was lit in there; it gave the room a rather lugubrious look.

“So this is the basement. It is used as a kitchen and a dining room. I use it as a living room, too; I find the drawing room upstairs to be too cold and impersonal. I usually spend my leisure time here,” he declared, holding out his arm.

He walked to the back of the room, his long legs projecting similarly long shadows on the floor. He motioned me to come closer, so I followed him. He opened a cupboard, which gave out a thin foggy vapour.

“This is where I keep the fresh food; I have separated it in two. Your supplies of Blood potion are on the lower shelves. You will find glasses, cups and goblets in the cupboard right there,” he explained, pointing a small door on our right.

Indeed, and to my surprise, I saw quite a few bottles of Blood potions, aligned on the refrigerant cupboard lower shelves. Before I could even ask about where these unexpected provisions came from, he continued his explanations.

“I have made space for you in these drawers so you can store your Blood potion supplies. They are on the table for now, I have not had the time to store them before the meeting began.”

I walked to the dinner table, with a curiosity that increased with each of my steps. I found a medium-sized cauldron on it; just big enough to prepare the potion without spilling any in the boiling process and just small enough so it would not take unnecessary storage space. I looked inside. I saw many small packages, most of them wrapped in brown paper. A quick survey informed me that these were indeed the appropriate ingredients for a Blood potion. A bigger package caught my attention; it was placed in the middle of the cauldron, protectively surrounded by the smaller packages. I carefully removed them from the cauldron, noting that its inner part was protected with a coat of Ramora oil.

“Great, it is anti-adhesive!” I murmured.

To my surprise, the bigger package, once opened, revealed a bottle of Leukoscotch.

“Remus, who gave you these supplies?” I asked in bewilderment.

“Dumbledore; he brought it with him.”

“Did he say anything about all that?”

“Not that I remember… but he looked extremely pleased with himself, which is not that uncommon with him. Is there any problem?” he asked, walking towards me.

“I would not call it a problem… but the bottle I am holding in my hand is Leukoscotch; it is a very expensive liquor that has been specifically developed for the people of my kind. It is really difficult to find; you just do not buy that in common stores. And it is a very good year, in addition!” I exclaimed, looking at the label that indicated it was over fifty years old.

“You mean you don’t know where all this comes from?”

“I have no idea! I know they most generously provided me with some Blood potion at the Hospital wing in Hogwarts, and I thought the bottles in the cupboard came from there, but all this… I have not asked anybody for any of it. This feels like a bit too much…”

“I guess we can ask Dumbledore about it next time we see him. In the meantime, I think you should just enjoy it; he brought it here for that purpose,” he softly said.

“If you say so…” I said unconvincingly, putting the bottle down and feeling slightly uneasy with these people’s generosity.

Remus looked at me for a few seconds, his hands hidden in the pockets of trousers that seemed to be of a venerable age, then looked down and shrugged his shoulders. I sensed that he wanted to tell me something, but did not really dare to. From the empathic glare I saw in the corner of his eyes, I knew that he understood how I felt at the moment. It made me smile again.

“So that is for the basement… what else can be found upstairs?” I asked, in a more genuinely joyful tone.

“Come with me; we’ll retrieve your cloak on the way,” he said, walking to the staircase.

We went up the staircase to the main floor. Before he reached the corridor, however, he abruptly stopped and turned back to me. In my surprise, I almost bumped into him.

“I forgot to tell you…\" he whispered, bending toward me, \"there is a portrait of Sirius’ mother in the corridor; it is the one that is covered with a long set of curtains. Each time you walk in the corridor, try to make as little noise as possible; she gets really nasty when she is disturbed. I know cainites are naturally quiet people, but I thought I would mention it to you so you are not surprised if you hear her one day.”

“I will do my best!” I whispered back.

Before I could add anything, he turned back and stepped in the corridor. We retrieved my cloak in the meeting room and Remus most courteously hung it for me in the entrance hall closet. He led me to a large room on the first floor, in which I saw a many glass-fronted cabinet with a variety of antiques in it. I noticed that one of the walls was completely covered with an immense curtain.

“Another portrait that is not to be disturbed?” I asked.

“No, that’s a tapestry representing the Black family tree. Sirius’ mother took great pride in their so-called pure-blood origins. But Sirius didn’t like the sight of it at all. I think it brought back too many bad memories.”

“I see,” I simply replied. “I can understand why you find this room too cold. There is a real lugubrious vibe to it… maybe we could find a way to make it look a bit more cheerful; it is really too bad to leave such a splendid room unused.”

“A feminine advice is much needed indeed! The two old bachelors that Sirius and I were didn’t find any solution! Not that we looked much for it, though…” he added, scratching the back of his neck. “Do you want to see the rest? I bet you’re tired of carrying your luggage around, we will find a place for you to get rid of it.”

“Certainly!”

He took my luggage bag and carried it upstairs for me. I noted the relaxed atmosphere that he created around him; nothing really seemed complicated with Remus. He seemed to be himself someone who was not complicated, who was authentic. I realised that I had not used any Legilimency techniques on him since my arrival. I just did not have to; I could read him through his face, his body, the sound of his voice or the glitter in his expressive eyes. They had proved to be reliable sources of information so far and in turn, it made me relax even more. I liked to be around that man.

“The liveable bedrooms are on the first, second and third floor. I have prepared the room on the second floor for you; here you are…” he said, opening the door for me.

I noted the high ceilings and the wardrobe, which pleased me at once. That room was also in desperate need for a feminine touch, but it definitely had a nice look. I pensively brushed my fingers against one of the beds and shivered.

“The last person who slept in that bed was very upset… an adolescent. A male adolescent… human.”

“Oh, it must have been either Harry or Ron. They used to sleep here when they visited the Headquarters. Is it a problem?”

“No, not at all! I just felt the imprint they left in the room. I will get used to it, do not worry about that,” I said, smiling reassuringly. “I see that I have scared the frame’s inhabitant away, though.”

“I don’t think so; the portrait is empty most of the time. Its inhabitant is Phineas Nigellus, one of Sirius’ ancestors. His great-great-grandfather or something like that. He was Headmaster in Hogwarts a long time ago and spends most of his time in his other frame, in Dumbledore’s office. I don’t think he will disturb you at all.”

“Perfect, then.”

“I hope you don’t mind sleeping in a bed for a while. I looked everywhere in the house for a coffin, but I was not able to find any. I bet it would feel a bit awkward to sleep in a Transfigured bed?”

“Yes, I would feel it too intensely. I am afraid my kind is most sensitive on that detail; I would need a real one. But I am in no hurry, Remus. I will manage to find a solution soon enough. It might not show, but I am an old witch, you know! So I have accumulated enough power over the centuries to allow myself a few nights out of a coffin if I need to.”

“Great. I have shut and secured the window panels, so you do not need to worry about the sun.”

“That is a very kind attention of yours, but you will have to tell me… what do you do for a living? You seem pretty knowledgeable about other species, mine at least.”

“I have done all kinds of jobs in my life, so far. From caretaker and bouncer to teacher.”

“Really? What did you teach? What school?”

“I thought Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, three years ago.”

“That is really great! Why did you stop?”

“I resigned. For… personal reasons,” he began, sounding embarrassed. “My condition put the students at risk and I did not want that to last any longer.”

“But there are ways to control the symptoms, no? And it is not like everybody knew!”

“Hum… everybody did know at some point. Someone blew up my incognito, in a manner of speaking.”

“What an awful thing to do…” I said, feeling sorry for him.

“It would have happened one day or another, you know. And anyway, a special law was made for… people like me that restricts the amount of contact we can have with humans. That narrows the job possibilities quite a lot.”

“What? Are you serious about that? Please tell me you are kidding me!” I said, heatedly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I am dead serious. It is a government minister assistant, Umbridge, who managed to have that law voted. She apparently has a thing against… half-breeds, as some people say.”

“I cannot believe it! A wizard of your potential! What a shame! The rivers told me nothing about that; things are not that bad for lycanthropics in Romania.”

“You do take it at heart,” he said, leaning against the doorframe and tilting his head on the side in curiosity. “You are a cainite full of surprises!”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, a bit puzzled.

“Well, when Dumbledore asked me if I could consider the possibility of becoming roommate with a cainite, I had some reservations! I thought people from your kind do not particularly appreciate being in the same room with people like me. Dumbledore told me it would not be your case, but still… I am surprised!”

“Remus, be prepared for many more surprises, in that domain. There are many things you do not know about me. Since we are about to share the same house, here is a couple of them. I have always had much sympathy for people suffering from lycanthropy, no matter what species they originated from before they got bitten. But I think that sympathy reached higher levels when I married a Muggle who had the disease. That made me really understand what your daily life looks like; it was difficult not to take things at heart after that,” I explained, sitting on the bed.

“Is he still in Romania now?”

“No… no, he died seventeen years ago. We were in the Order, at that time, but you were probably still pretty young; that is why we have never met before. He got killed by a Death Eater while he was on duty; I had to escape to Poland a few nights later.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he softly replied.

“Do not be. It is exactly like you said for your friend… Sirius?” I said, and he nodded. “I have had the time to think it over… and over again. Severus, quite ironically, has helped the healing process quite a bit.”

Remus did not add anything and we remained silent for an instant, lost in our thoughts. He discreetly coughed and made a few steps out the door.

“I guess you would like some time alone to unpack and make yourself at home…”

“No, not yet!” I said, realising that I was a terribly depressing guest. “You have not showed me the upper floors and I am curious about them. I do not have much to unpack anyway.”

“As you wish,” he replied, holding out his arm to let me out.

We climbed two flights of stairs and stopped on the fifth floor. I noticed that, despite the impressive number of stairs we had to climb, he was absolutely not out of breath. My guess about his hunting nights seemed absolutely right.

“My room is on this floor, right next to Sirius’ mother’s bedroom,” he declared, pointing to the doors in question. “Sirius kept his hippogriff there before Severus left with it for Transylvania.”

“He told me it was his hippogriff indeed… I guess Ivantie will release him in the wild now that Severus has escaped. I think he will be fine; the dragon population is far better controlled, now. What is that room used for?” I asked, seeing a partly open door at the end of the corridor.

“Oh that room there, well…” he hesitated, “let’s simply say it is reserved for my personal use once a month.”

“I see,” I simply answered, trying not to stare at the numerous scratch marks on the wooden door. “We will have to have a little talk about that, Remus…”

“I know. But not here, let’s find a more comfortable place. Kitchen?”

“Kitchen it will be!” I happily replied, preceding him in the staircase.

We went downstairs and I noted, to my satisfaction, that the house already started to look familiar. It looked old and was clearly in need of an army of house elves, but I was slowly beginning to believe that it was possible for me to find some peace in there, if I successfully drove my mind away from the various and sometimes intensely emotional imprints that could be felt all around. And just as I thought about that, I walked a bit too close from the wall in the corridor and my shoulder bumped against something hard. A large wooden frame. The effect was immediate. A most horrific series of screams literally exploded from between the moth-eaten curtains, which flung open at once.

“Filth! Demon! How dare you stain the house of my fathers with your disgusting presence! Creature of the devil, get away from me, GET AWAY!”

“Mrs Black, there is no need to panic, everything is fine!” screamed Remus over the noise, as the other portraits’ inhabitants in the corridor started screaming along uncontrollably.

“You despicable piece of low-life, you half-breed! YOU ANIMAL! Go back to the night where you belong! And you, go back to HELL among the living DEAD!”

Remus, covering his left ear with one of his hand and doing his best to cover the other with his shoulder, motioned me to help him close the curtains over the painting. It was not an easy thing to do; the decrepit pieces of fabric just refused to move and I felt, as one of my hands grabbed it, that quite a powerful series of charms and spells were in action there. Remus and I both pushed with all our strength and body weight on our mutual curtain until it abruptly gave in to our joined efforts and snapped shut, unbalancing me and making me bump my forehead right into Remus’ jaw.

“Ouch! Oh, I am so sorry!” I exclaimed, while rubbing the sore spot.

“Never mind,” he replied, slightly short of breath and doing the same with his jaw. “That grumpy old bat never fails to put a little action here and there!”

Still both panting slightly after the shock and the effort, we made our way downstairs. Remus handed me two glasses and retrieved a bottle of red wine in the cupboard. I picked up the bottle of Leukoscotch on the table and opened it.

“And what is exactly the nature of your role here, Remus, when you do not try to calm old women down?” I asked, as we were both pouring ourselves a drink.

“From now on, to take care of you,” he answered, with a solemnity that made me giggle. “Which is not too far from the other job description you just mentioned, now that I think about it!” he added, blinking at me.

“Seriously…”

“I am being serious! Dumbledore’s direct orders; take care of her, he said!” he replied, faking his indignation. “And I always obey Dumbledore’s orders.”

“Mmmmh… I do not think so…” I teased, walking to him and looking closer into his eyes. “I think you are quite a troublemaker, on the contrary.”

“Oh, would Madam be a Legilimens?”

“And an Occlumens, too. Beware…” I warned, on an exaggerated sinister tone.

“I definitely feel at ease with that man.”

“I guess we should drink to something,” he suggested.

“We should do more than that! Come here with your glass, I will show you something.”

Remus walked closer, looking intrigued.

“Just in case you might have any… reserves left about living with a cainite, here is what we do in Transylvania to welcome a newcomer in our circle as a friend. Theoretically, you should be the one to perform the ritual, since you are the one who welcomes me and not the contrary, but I think nobody here minds that slight derogation to the rules.”

“Agreed,” he said, smiling.

“Hold your glass very still, next to mine. Thank you.”

I waved two fingers up on my free hand and our mutual drinks leapt out and switched glasses. I held my glass next to Remus’ lips and he did the same. Looking straight into his eyes, I cheered.

“Noroc!”

“Noroc!” he repeated.

We simultaneously made each other take a sip of alcohol. My last glass of Leukoscotch dated from so long ago that I could not even remember where I had drunk it. I closed my eyes for a second and enjoyed the almost forgotten taste as the liquid burned its way down my throat.

“Then we kiss three times…” I said, bringing my face to his and kissing his cheeks, which were slightly scabrous, just as I expected them to be. “And now we can officially call each other by our first names, just like friends do!”

“You gave me a little scare, there!” he said, giving me my glass back.

“Ah, no need to tell me,” I replied, regretting my most spontaneous gesture of friendship. “Too much proximity on the first night for British social rules? I am sorry if I offended you, it was not my intention.”

“No, not that, Antanasia! I was just glad you gave me that kind of kiss!” he explained, walking to his armchair and giving me a friendly side push as he passed me. “It’s not like all of us in England are reserved, by the way. There are exceptions!”

“I guess… though I can only imagine how dangerous it would have been to try doing that with Severus!” I giggled. “I would not have gotten as far as pronounce the cheer!”

“And you might very well be lying on the floor unconscious, who knows,” he replied, waving his wand and duplicating his cushioned armchair so I could sit by his side. “Am I mistaken or… is he behaving particularly coldly with you?”

“He most definitely is. Ah, the man is just complicated,” I said, sitting in the armchair Remus invited me in.

“And acting like a complete jerk!” I thought.

“Have you any idea why he might act like that? Do you know him?”

“We went to school together; same year. Except we were in different houses,” he explained, waving his wand and lighting a fire in the fireplace in front of us. “I cannot say that my relationship with him is close, quite the contrary. If… you want my personal advice, I think him acting cold is better than his usual reactions.”

“Which are?” I asked, a bit apprehensive.

“Well, how could I put that elegantly…. Severus is not really close to anybody here in the Order, except maybe from Dumbledore, but still, not much. He does not blend with the group here; he just comes for the meetings, makes his report, and then leaves as soon as he can. He is not really the social type. And what really doesn’t help is his tendency to be… sharp-tongued. He is the type of dog that doesn’t bark but bites, and real hard.”

“Mmmh… I had the occasion to witness that quite a few times, in Zaharia, but not… not the things I saw since I am here. Has he always been like that?”

“Hum... for as long as I can remember, Severus has always been on his guard whenever people are around. Not that I blame him; there are quite a few things that gave him excellent reasons to be on his guard indeed, in the past. With maturity, he learned to control himself and stopped blurting insults at other people’s faces whenever he felt offended, but as you can see, that self-control has been mastered to the point of coldness and detachment.”

“That must have driven a lot of people away from him,” I said, with a touch of pity and incomprehension, given my natural gregarious tendencies.

“It did. It definitely did,” he answered, seemingly having a lot to say on the subject, but refraining to.

“I guess he has his reasons… can we talk about something else?” I asked, taking a bigger sip.

“Most certainly. If I remember well, we wanted to talk about a tricky detail or two, when we were upstairs.”

“Yes… Remus, can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure, go ahead,” he said, rearranging the logs in the fireplace.

“That room, upstairs… that is where you lock yourself when you have a lycanthropy attack?” I asked, riveting my eyes to his.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. “That way, I don’t trash the whole house… or don’t risk to come nose to nose with a member of the Order who forgot to check the moon phase before coming.”

“I see…” I commented, looking at my glass. “But it must be very… well, it must have a lot of disadvantages to lock yourself in so small of a room for the whole night.”

“I do lose my temper from time to time, in a manner of speaking… and pay for it the following morning.”

“Forgive me if I go beyond limits, but… this is not a life, Remus! Can you have access to Wolfsbane potion, at least? I know it is an awful thing to suggest, but—”

“Not at all! I wish I could have some Wolfsbane; the only awful thing in it is its taste. On that, I totally agree with you! But it is also awfully expensive… and I’m afraid I just can’t afford it.”

“Oh, by Cerridwen, humans will never learn!” I grumbled, taking another sip of my drink. “They limit your job possibilities, and they limit your access to a potion that would ease a bit of your symptoms! We live in a splendid world, really!”

“You have just put your finger on the problem, congratulations!” he said, tapping his glass against mine.

I remained silent for a few minutes, pondering how I would expose my suggestion to him without sounding too insistent. Ivantie has often reproached me for being a bit too altruistic and promotional when I meet someone suffering from lycanthropy. I guess I just cannot help it. And no reaction from them actually gave me a reason to stop acting like that… not even that Slovak witch who first tried to strangle me before I could really finish what I had to say.

“Well, there is another way. There is an even better option than relying on potions to address a problem that can be worked on differently.”

“What? What do you mean?” he asked, a bit puzzled.

“I told you that I married a man suffering from lycanthropy. It was in 1936; I have been working on a magical treatment to control lycanthropy attacks since then.”

“Have you had any results?”

“Most certainly. With Muggles, it is always more difficult, because they do not have magical powers. It makes the learning process a bit slower, but it does produce interesting changes. I even had a Goblin in treatment one night; that one was really something to treat! He was already a pain in the neck while in his original form, imagine when he had transformed!”

“But the results,” he eagerly insisted.

“The results vary, to be honest. It depends on the amount of work the person is willing to put into the task… and the person’s resources. But even my Arnaud, who had no magical skills, was able to keep his mind clear when he transformed, with a little bit of my help and years of work. He apparently even did it on his own, at the end…. I have even had some patients who went as far as stopping the transformation itself.”

“Merlin, are you serious?” he exclaimed, eyes wide open.

“Of course, I am!”

“How come I have never heard of you before?” he asked, spilling a bit of his wine in his enthusiasm.

“Because all the work I did was completely illegal, in my Clan. Lady Marilena despises your kind and most absolutely forbids any helping hand coming from anybody in the Clan for people suffering from lycanthropy. Do not get me wrong, though. Not all cainites are like that, not even in the Clan.”

A very doubtful look is the only reply I got.

“I assure you! Ivantie, who is… well, was… anyway, Ivantie, a close friend of mine, even helped me during my treatments, from time to time. I had to hide in the Carpathian Mountains or in some rooms in Zaharia to meet my patients and work with them. I was working with one of them when Severus got captured and Ivantie took care of him, fortunately. Anyway, the situation I was in did not allow me to spread the word around about the treatment.”

“How does the treatment work?”

“In the first phase, I establish a Legilimency link with my patient and keep that link very active during the lycanthropy transformation. That way, my patient remains completely conscious. That is really the first step, because as you can imagine, it takes a lot of effort from the patient to feel my presence and listen to my voice; that tends to be lost during the first attempts. When that step is reached and the link remains stable, we gradually work on mental skills to develop a resistance to the mental symptoms of the attack. Little by little, I let go a bit of control until my patient is able to remain conscious on his or her own.”

“That is… simply amazing! Almost unbelievable!” he commented, listening to me so raptly that he did not notice his wine that slowly spilled from his inclined glass right onto his shoe.

“Thank you… mind the glass, Remus,” I answered, beaming to him. “After that, it gets even trickier, though. Stopping the transformation is not easy; it often takes years of practice and many of my patients do not stick to treatment long enough to really master it. But the principle is more or less the same. Once you learn to keep your mind and stay in touch with your human persona, then you learn to do the same with your human body persona. It takes a lot of sensitivity, but it is certainly doable.”

“But even if one doesn’t reach that level, keeping your mind still makes an enormous difference!”

“Indeed! Nevertheless, I am still not satisfied. I wish I could avoid you the pain that comes with the transformations… from what I saw, it seems to hurt a lot.”

“I can’t really say that you ever get used to it… but you get better prepared, after a few years.”

Remus stared at his glass for a few minutes, then switched to the flames that were dancing in front of us. I did the same, cuddling very comfortably in my armchair, hoping that the question I was waiting for would just pop out from under that adorable moustache of his. There was no rush, after all; if we were to live together, I had all the time in the world to suggest him to give it a try. Yet sure enough, the words I was waiting for came shortly after.

“Do you think I could be a good candidate for that treatment?” he asked, talking to the fire.

“Absolutely. If you actually taught at Hogwarts, I guess your magical skills are well developed?”

“Hum, I don’t know, I mean… I am not really well placed to answer that question; I guess I do have some skills…” he stammered out.

“And a lot of humility, as I see!” I teased, patting his elbow that was leaning on the armrest. “Remus, I guess that if you taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, you are able to receive and manage a Legilimency link?”

“I will know when I really try it…”

“When is the next full moon?”

“On November 4th… last one was on October 6th,” he answered, without hesitation.

“So six nights ago; that is just perfect. How long do you usually take to recover from an attack?”

“The equinox moons are the toughest of the year; we just had the Harvest moon and I always feel it longer than the others. But I am getting better; I should have completely recovered in a few days.”

“What do you take to help you recover?”

He smiled at me and raised his glass.

“That, and a lot of sleep!”

“Seriously? Then I will have to prepare a potion or two, for you. And some lotions.”

“Antanasia, by no means I want you to feel obliged to do anything,” he said, talking to the carpet this time. “You are welcome here without any obligation; I do not assume that—”

“Remus… we have made a most sacred ritual, not so long ago, remember?” I taunted, tapping my glass against his to make him look up. “And friends do help each other, unless I am much mistaken. I love doing that, I really do. It gives me the impression that I am still useful to some people despite my age!”

“If you like it, then…” he answered, raising his glass to me.

“And it will be nice to brew some potions again. I have been neglecting my lab during the last few months; I used to do far more research than that. I will manage to find a way to get us some supplies. The potions and lotions you need will be much cheaper if you do not have to pay the Potions Mistress who is making them!”

“Is that what you did in Zaharia?”

“Yes. I have been a teacher, too! But not for long, just like you. I taught Potions in Durmstrang, at the end of the 19th century. I taught there for a few years… until they found a Potions Master who was able to teach during the day.”

“How will you manage to find the potions supplies?”

“Well, I have a cauldron, that is a start. And a few supplies already. There is enough in there for me to last months! I can go pick many things outside by myself and well… for the few items that are missing, I will have to ask a colleague’s help.”

“The colleague I’m thinking about?”

“Yes, that one. It will wait until the next meeting, I guess. The potions will not be needed before November 5th anyway and most of them take only a few hours to prepare; there is no rush.”

“What can I do in exchange?”

“You are doing something in exchange, remember? You are taking care of the old lady!”

“Yeah, still,” he giggled, “I will have to find something to repay you. Refill?”

“Certainly,” I replied, handing him my glass with a smile.

We spent half of the night chatting about various subjects. Remus proved to be quite knowledgeable in many subjects; his lonely hours had often been spent reading and increasing his culture and skills. I told him that there was a cainite in Zaharia who would have been absolutely delighted to hear at least one wizard in England had not lost the will to broaden his knowledge that way. However, Remus had not travelled much in his life, for obvious reasons, so he most eagerly listened to a few of my travel tales, especially my trip to India, which particularly fascinated him. Neither Remus nor I seemed eager to put an end to our pleasant conversation. I think he fully shared the quick and growing easiness we felt in each other’s presence. Nevertheless, as I understand it, sleep soon won the game and took over us.

~*~

When I woke up, I first thought the house was completely burning down. I vaguely remembered that I was not in the Hospital wing anymore, yet felt that I was not in a bedroom either. I smelled a strong, acrid smoke and snapped my eyes open, remembering that my last waking moments had been spent in front of the fireplace. I found myself lying in an armchair, still by the fireplace that was now empty. I was most comfortably covered with a warm blanket and sitting with my feet up, though I did not remember that the armchair had a foot rest as well. No wonder I had not woken up before. Turning around, I saw some smoke coming out from the kitchen area, in the back of the room.

“Remus?” I called.

He did not seem to be anywhere around. I hurriedly got to my feet and rushed to the kitchen, tossing the blanket aside. I softly gasped when my feet came in touch with the cold floor; my shoes had been removed. When I passed the large frame that separated the two rooms, I quickly found the source of all that smoke. A miserable piece of something that once seemed to have been fish was burning in a frying pan.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” I called, with a voice made hoarse by the smoke and my abrupt awakening.

The pan lifted in the air, which let me extinguish the fire underneath. I was looking for a way to evacuate the smoke somewhere, as the room had no windows, when heavy and hurried footsteps rushed down many flights of stairs above my head. Sure enough, Remus walked in the room, slightly out of breath this time. He seemed to have climbed out from a lake directly into his clothes, which had been very hurriedly thrown on his back. He was walking barefoot and his shirt was so badly buttoned that most of the buttons were in the wrong holes… or in no holes at all. His trousers were buttoned, but his belt was unbuckled and jingled against his lower hip as he walked. He found me in the kitchen, arms crossed over my chest next to the frying pan, with a very amused smile on my lips.

“Merlin, you have woken up! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, running a hand in his dripping hair.

“You are sorry? Those heavy feet of yours could have woken the dead anyway! I thought we were being attacked by a whole herd of Abraxans!”

“Is it what woke you up?” he asked, smiling and blushing simultaneously. “I’m so used to be the only one here, sorry.”

“No, the smoke woke me up… what was that?” I asked, bending over the frying pan.

“Haddock… I think it’s finally dead by now, at last!” he taunted.

“It does not show any capacity to wiggle anymore indeed…” I giggled.

“I must have forgotten the pan while I was upstairs. I thought I had time for a quick shower,” he explained, while retrieving a cloth and picking the pan.

“I do not know if the shower was quick, but the dressing part that came after certainly broke a record of rapidity!” I teased, pointing his shirt with my chin. “That was quite a big fire you had under there! You should have woken me up; I would have watched it or you,” I added, as he slid the burned fish into a plate, next to a few carrots and beans that looked rather tired.

“I would have never dared to do that! In fact, my intention was to bring that upstairs and let you sleep as long as you wanted. I was too hungry to wait any longer.”

“What time is it?” I asked, trying to turn my attention from the furtive glimpses I got of his chest as he managed to button it properly.

“Something like a quarter after two.”

“In the afternoon?”

“Yes, in the afternoon,” he answered, smiling broadly and buckling his belt.

“Of course in the afternoon, you stupid! You have never slept that long in your entire afterlife!”

“So I am trapped down here!”

“I’m afraid you are. We both fell asleep in front of the fire and I woke up towards 10:00am. I did not dare to levitate you to your bedroom; I don’t know your resistance to sun and the day is pretty sunny today. There are windows everywhere on the way upstairs. They are not what you could call transparent, but still. I thought it best to leave you sleep here on your own. I’m a very grumpy dangerous thing in the morning anyway.”

“Thank you, I needed the rest,” I said, stretching. “The wonderful thing about fall and winter, though, is that the days are and feel much shorter; I should be able to walk upstairs in a few hours. But that makes me think that I will need to prepare myself some Sun-blocking potion.”

“Will you have what it takes?” he said, bringing his plate to the dining table.

“I do not know… let me see.”

To my surprise, I saw that, in addition to the Blood potion ingredients that I needed, the few additional supplies for Sun-blocking potion were there, in the very bottom of the cauldron.

“Does Professor Dumbledore know how to prepare that potion? Everything is in there…”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did, though the formulas and techniques can be found in any good Potion making book. You’ll forgive me if I begin, but it’s getting cold…”

“Please do! We do not want that fish to come back to life again!” I said, wondering how he could even consider eating such a miserable meal… if you could call that a meal. “It is a bit too early for me to feed, I will accompany you at dinner, if you do not mind.”

I think it is when I saw him shake his head, indicating me that he did not mind, then put a bite of that awful fish in his mouth and eat it without the smallest trace of a wince that I first had the idea to find us a source of remuneration. I promised myself that I would owl a friend who was probably very, very old and ask him a favor again, like I did when I had last lived in London.

Remus finished his frugal meal as I began to prepare a cauldron of Sun-blocking potion. I had not finished cutting the ginger roots, which were to be added last, when he got up and, whistling an air that I knew too well, walked to a dresser in the corner of the room and put a record on an old record player.

“Do you mind if I put some music?” he asked, turning to me before he put the tone-arm down.

“Not at all, on the contrary! It was a bit silent in here,” I answered, with a touch of dread.

He lowered his hand and the music filled the room. I concentrated hard on the roots, trying not to let it fill my heart, too. Remus simply walked past me and brought his plate to the kitchen, whistling over the music. Despite my efforts, my heart answered to that so familiar ballad and the lyrics I knew so well resounded in my head, over Benny Goodman’s clarinet.

“Good night, my love… the tired old moon is descending…”

To make things worse, Remus started humming the lyrics too, while doing the dishes. How many times… how many times had Arnaud lovingly teased me with that song, calling me his “princesse de la nuit”? He said it must have been written for odd couples like us. I did not have to turn back to picture the scene that was happening, behind me. I did not want to. I was not able to, anyway.

“It will be heavenly to hold you again in a dream…”

I hummed along with Remus, rocking slightly from left to right in rhythm with that old song, forgetting about my ginger roots and the simmering mixture in front of me. I remembered those evenings, when Arnaud always insisted to do the dishes despite the ways of that time…. Each time I retorted about it, he indubitably replied that he did not want me to torture those white hands of mine in hot water… when in fact I spent most of the week dirtying them with countless potion ingredients! My vision got blurred, but I smiled. I smiled to the sweet memories that flooded my mind in that instant. That is something the countless years behind me had taught me; find immortality in small perfect moments like that. Moments like remembering when Arnaud always found a reason to come next to my countless cauldrons and whisper…

“Antanasia?”

“Oui?”

“Is there something wrong?” said a hoarse voice in a language I did not expect.

I blinked my eyes a couple of times, which made a few teardrops fall on my hands. Those white hands of mine. I looked up and saw someone else. Someone with the same scars, almost with the same smile….

“Everything is ok, Remus!” I giggled, wiping the tears off my cheeks with my sleeve. “I just got carried away with old memories. That song was one of my husband’s favourites.”

“Do you want some time alone?” he softly asked.

“No, do not be silly! On the contrary, put on some more! I have always loved swing music and Benny Goodman is really the best.”

“It seems to bring back some painful memories, though…”

“It does, but it does not mean that I should stop listening to it, like I have been doing so far… I guess it could be therapeutic to listen to these songs again.”

“And how will I know when the treatment is effective?” he asked, with a faint smile at the corner of his lips.

“When you put that song again… and I ask you for a dance.”

His smiled broadened and went to the record player to put a more joyful record. That is how I spent the rest of the afternoon; listening to good swing songs that had taken control of my legs and soul on countless occasions, a long time ago. I told Remus about the illegal dancing clubs Arnaud and I went to, during the well-known Muggle World War II. We had gotten the reputation of being dancers of iron constitution; my late husband and I could dance until dawn without ever taking a rest, or so little. Remus laughed out loud when I told him how, in fact, I always used a Levitating spell to make my weight easier to manage for Arnaud.

When at least the front windows were bathed in the sunset light, I took some Sun-blocking potion, which had simmered for the required two hours, and I went upstairs to shower and change. I was in the shower when it hit me. The time when the Death Eaters were supposed to meet was approaching. I imagined that Severus was probably either having tea or preparing to have dinner with the students, in the Great Hall. I wondered if he felt nervous. Then I winced and asked myself if he admitted to himself that he was nervous. Probably not.

I started to feel worried.

As I brushed my wet hair and put one of Poppy’s pants and blouses (which I had Transfigured from a pale pink and beige to black and burgundy, respectively), I realised that Dumbledore had not mentioned any way by which we would receive a report about Severus’ success at the meeting… or if there had been consequences to his long absence. I shivered, more from my apprehension than from the coldness of the room that seized my humid skin.

“What if Voldemort is not happy with the news Severus is about to bring him?” I thought.

~*~

“Maybe I should have gone with him, Remus,” I told the wizard, when we met in the drawing room.

“What more could you have done there?”

“I could… I do not know…”

“Protect him again… no matter what the consequences would be…”

“You are right. Even if he gets in trouble, all I would be able to do would be to sit and watch… which is not really better. Has he been… has… has Voldemort attacked him in the past?” I asked, trying to choose words that sounded less painful, for me.

“According to Severus… a few times. Especially at the beginning, when Voldemort came back to power; he was not too happy with his Death Eaters’ behaviour. Severus paid for it like the rest of the group,” he answered, as I felt the knot in my stomach reach greater proportions. “In general, however, I think Severus keeps a rather low profile during meetings; he intervenes only when it is time to use a strategy for the Order, like giving misleading information. Other than that, his job is mostly to listen. I guess his efforts also go a lot into Occlumency; that must take quite a bit of his concentration.”

“But he is very talented at it. I have no doubt he will handle that part as well as he usually does.”

Remus, probably feeling that I was a bit nervous, suggested a game of chess. We played for a couple of hours, but it did not take my mind away from the dark-haired wizard. We then went downstairs to have dinner together. I reheated a bottle of Blood potion and poured it into a goblet, even if my anxiety prevented me from being too hungry. Remus cooked himself a small piece of beef. It looked so tough that I think he could have knocked a Troll unconscious with it, but at least he managed not to burn it this time.

“Remus,” I began, as he started what would be a long fight with the cooked meat, “is there any owl I could use, here?”

“Not specifically in here, no. There is a post office not to far from here, though. Only a few streets down once you get on the main street. The entry is a bit tricky to find; I will take you there if you need to owl someone.”

“Thank you. I am afraid I will also have to borrow from you a few Knuts for the owl; I do not have any money with me. But I must insist on this point, I will give it back.”

“Please, don’t mention it! It will be my pleasure to give any help I can.”

I debated for a few minutes whether I should tell him about my idea to get a job or not. But the thought that he might think I was giving him my charity stopped me. I decided to put him in front of an accomplished fact. He did not seem about to ask nosy questions about my letter, so that settled the matter.

He asked me if I wanted to go to the post office after dinner, but I categorically refused. I wanted to stay at the Headquarters just in case either Severus or Dumbledore would contact us. Remus tried to interest me in a card game, but my mind was just not into it. I kept thinking about the time passing by so slowly. I kept imagining what might be happening, wherever Severus was meeting the Dark Lord. The ten rings of an old grandfather clock upstairs found me pacing the room like a wild animal in a cage, in front of a wizard who was beginning to run short of comforting words. I finally got myself together, after hours of worry, and turned decidedly to Remus.

“You know, Remus, call me crazy if you like, but I want to believe that I would know if something happened to him. I would just feel it, deep in my guts… deep in my blood.”

He did not reply, but went to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine. He came back with a glass of Leukoscotch as well.

“I am being a terrible roommate… I apologize,” I said, feeling embarrassed.

“It’s ok, it’s normal for you to worry, after all those things you have been through with him…”

“It is just that I hope I did not do all that for nothing, you see? We have a chance, a small one, to accomplish a few things before Marilena and Pietr’s owls reach Voldemort eventually. I only hope he will manage to do well.”

“I only hope he will come out of it alive…”

“I understand,” he simply replied.

“You know what would definitely take my mind off all this? Let it brush against yours. Would you be ready to give the Legilimency link a try?”

“Just like that, tonight?”

“Why not? We will have to do it sooner or later…”

“Ok, how do we proceed?” he answered, putting his glass down.

Minutes later, Remus and I were sitting comfortably, facing each other next to a fiery and warm fire. I invaded Remus’ mind like candlelight invades a dark room. I let myself get lost in his memories, in his emotions, and he welcomed me without even a thought of protestation. I summoned his lycanthropic memories, the more recent ones at first, and we practiced his mental stability while those memories took over his consciousness for a few minutes. After over an hour of practice, though, his magical and physical energy levels started to run a bit low and he requested a break. I felt much calmer, having spent some peaceful time into his mind, so he felt at ease to take leave and go to bed, eventually.

I spent the rest of the night wide awake (which was not surprising) checking every hour or so if the Floo network was connected and working. When dawn drew nearer, however, I started to hate myself. I hated myself for worrying so much about an ungrateful wizard, who treated me like I was some kind of annoying or needy child, or even worse. Like if I was someone who did not deserve his interest. That soon brought me back to reason; I went upstairs before the sun became too intense. I slowly got undressed, eying the shockingly white shirt that was on my bed. Before I pulled the bed sheets and slid under them, I grabbed the shirt and threw it in a corner of the room.

~*~

Remus, despite all the care he put while he tried to walk downstairs as noiselessly as he could, woke me up all the same. I was having a feathery light sleep anyway, as usual. As I opened my eyes, I saw something moving in the empty frame, on the opposite wall. I called to see if someone was in there, but nobody came back into the frame. I concluded that I was probably still dreaming. I stayed in bed for a while, though. I knew I was some kind of pain in the neck with my nervousness and I did not want to inflict it on Remus. Long hours passed with me ruminating over many subjects before I finally got up, took a shower and went downstairs. Sure enough, the faint sound of swing music welcomed me into the stairs even before I reached the room.

I never mentioned Severus to Remus until the Order meeting that took place two nights later. I acted as if I was not nervous anymore, even to the point of looking like I did not even care. Remus and I played cards for a while, and then we both had dinner. He took me to the post office with a letter that I hurriedly wrote on the dinner table:

Charles, my dear old friend,

My last letter reached you ages ago, I know. I apologize for not writing sooner, but I guess our lives are too different to really maintain a regular correspondence between us. Some very unexpected circumstances brought me back to London in a hurry; I am in desperate need of a form of remuneration. If you are still interested in my services, like you said you would always be, I am ready to give them back to you. Please meet me tomorrow night, usual place, usual time. If possible, I would greatly appreciate being paid in advance, if indeed you come. I hope your wife and kids (and probably grandkids) are doing well, by the way; I will be eager to hear about them again.

All the best,

A.

The following night, Charles was there, waiting for me, behind a glass of beer in the pub where we used to meet, the Sphinx’s lair. Remus had insisted on accompanying me, as we were not sure if Zaharia warriors were still after me, but as I doubted it, I had declined his offer. The bull-headed wizard had followed me, of course, but I could clearly locate him behind me without having to look back. The Legilimency link on which we had worked a few times already allowed me to feel his presence around me with much accuracy. I let him sit in a corner of the pub, all wrapped in his cloak and his hood over his head, and then went to Charles, who beamed when he saw me.

“You look like you haven’t aged a day, Tasia,” he said, holding out his hand.

“That is probably because I have not indeed!”

“And I have aged, what… it was even before You-Know-Who’s fall… seventeen years now?”

“Almost to the day. I am glad to see you again, my friend.”

“So am I! It took me years to find somebody capable enough to replace you!”

“So the business is still in operation?”

“It most certainly is; we have even expanded. We now export to France and Spain; Dorothea is negotiating with Germany as we speak!”

Charles and I chatted for a while, giving each other news about our respective families. It was good to hear from that old friend, who had helped us on countless occasions when Arnaud and I lived in London. After making me promise no less than three times that I would come for dinner one of these nights, he finally gave me my first contract.

“I will need two litres of it, plus two bags of Acromantula fangs, powdered. Can you do it in a week?”

“I will do my best. Have you brought an advance as I asked you?”

“Yes… and from what I see, you do need it; those robes are far too old-fashioned for you. They look like they belonged to a seventy year old witch!”

“That is probably because they did! Thank you, I am very grateful for the money.”

“I put it in that bag, with the ingredients for… you know, the potion I usually request for Dorothea? If you could just include it with the rest, in a week, that would be perfect.”

“Of course, Charles, my pleasure! So we meet here same time next week?”

“Agreed. Send me an owl only if you can’t come.”

We both rose to our feet and Charles paid the bill. Once he was out, I went straight to Remus and, smiling, asked him to accompany me back to Grimmauld Place. As discreet as ever, though he was obviously burning to ask me what I was doing there, he stuck to the other conversation topics I chose. I remember that we took a longer walk than needed before we went back to Grimmauld Place. The night was a tad chilly, but the absence of wind or rain made it quite enjoyable and we took many detours, with me pretending that I was in absolutely no rush to be back. After two hours spent strolling along London’s deserted streets next to the tall and handsome wizard, I even started to believe it myself.

We ended curled up in our usual armchairs in front of an intense fire with a couple of good books. Remus most courteously forced himself to stay up as long as he could. Towards 3:00am, however, a faint snoring sound made me look up from my book. His head had fallen back and rested against the back of the chair, which made his neck bend at a very uncomfortable angle. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, so I took the chance to levitate him upstairs, keeping his uncomfortable body position as stable as I could before I reached his bedroom. I removed his shoes and discovered a pair of socks that could have competed with a piece of Emmenthal cheese; not that much because of the smell than because of the number of holes I found in them. I tried not to giggle and made myself a mental note that I would find a way to sneak in his drawers and see if the rest of the lot looked the same. I loved sewing by the fire at the end of the night anyway. Remus groaned softly a couple of times when I tucked him in bed, but he did not wake up. I stole all the socks I could find and tiptoed outside. I checked the Floo network again before I sat down and Transfigured a hairpin into a needle. It was working perfectly. It was still desperately silent.

After waiting what seemed to be an eternity during the rest of the week, the afternoon of the Order meeting finally came. Remus had protested quite a bit when I had insisted on doing some shopping and buying decent groceries, but he strangely stopped arguing the minute he smelled a beef Wellington in the kitchen that evening. Not to mention that he completely stopped talking after his first bite of chocolate pudding. Lycanthropic or not, Wizard or Muggle in origin, men have always been, and will always be, driven by their stomachs. Some even more by that than by what can be found just a little below.

I took special care in my clothing that evening. I had bought robes of a deep green that fit me well, according to the light it lit in Remus’ eyes when I entered the dining room. If I want to be honest with myself, and with you, I must admit that I secretly hoped that Severus’ attitude would have changed. I told myself, in a very naïve way, that his blunt coldness might have only been created by his nervousness about meeting the Dark Lord again. If the meeting had gone well, I thought, he might have a better attitude that time.

Minerva and Dumbledore arrived first; closely followed by the red-haired couple that was introduced to me as Arthur and Molly Weasley. Two of their children, a pair of twins with a most mischievous glare in their eyes, came too, and were accompanied by a young witch who seemed to be constantly changing her hairstyle; it had passed from pink to a shocking acid green. Then came an old disfigured man with a wooden leg; he greeted me with a groan more than with actual words and went straight to Dumbledore in the meeting room. I was wondering if that attitude was aimed at me personally or not when a prickling sensation climbed all the way up in the back of my neck. I did not even have to turn back. My stomach instantly seemed to fill with icy cold water.

In an instant of panic, I chose to run away, so to speak. I was not ready to face his glance yet. Fortunately for me, Remus followed right behind me and we entered the meeting room together. His presence gave me the courage I lacked; I bravely turned back and faced the open door. Severus soon appeared in it, solemn and grave, as I had always known him. His dark eyes met mine… and stayed perfectly still. My stomach started to hurt. He greeted me with a slight nod of his head, just like he did at the beginning, when he was imprisoned in the dungeon. In a flash, I saw a few memories of his more… intimate moments in that same place. I gave him my most charming smile.

“Good evening, Severus! I am glad to see you made it here in one piece!”

“Making it here was not the most difficult part…” he answered, enigmatically.

“We stayed around the Floo network just in case, but we received no news,” said Remus, looking at me with a warm and teasing smile at the corner of his lips. “How did the meeting go?”

“You are about to hear everything about it, just like the others,” he replied, most arrogantly. “I can understand, though, how difficult it must be to remain inactive, without a clue about what is going on in the real world.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, very taken aback.

“Well I guess that he made you stick to his usual routine and did not do much while others took greater risks; his friend was very fond of that, too,” he bluntly replied, talking more to Remus than he was talking to me.

“I beg your pardon, Severus, but we did an awful lot of things, on the contrary! Isn’t it true, Remus?” I replied, in a ridiculously enthusiastic tone, while stopping a flush of anger over my cheeks.

“Yes, we installed you in your room, we cleaned it up a bit, we read, we played cards, chess,” Remus enunciated, playing along.

“And hide and seek! That house was just designed to play hide and seek!”

“But we’ll stop playing from now on because Antanasia always wins… and she wouldn’t if she stuck with the rules and didn’t use simultaneous Apparating-Disapparating skills when I’m about to find her,” he told Severus, matter-of-factly.

“You only keep losing because you… do… not… switch… fast enough!” I said, using the skills in question to Apparate, in a heartbeat, at various places around Remus and Severus, until I Disapparated from their view.

Severus looked deeply annoyed by our childish scene, but remained right where he was, looking around to see where I had gone, ready to defend himself if he had to. Remus looked at him, amused by his reaction. A discreet whistle made them instantly look up. I fell from the ceiling and, in a flip, landed right between them.

“And because you always forget to look above your head!” I told Remus, mischievously.

Remus giggled. Severus rolled his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation and made a step away from me, but I grabbed his arm and pulled his ear next to my mouth.

“I spent the last few nights, and days, worrying about your safety and waiting for news, you fool,” I tensely murmured in his ear. “Next time, I shall know better and stop worrying about someone who does not even seem to value the thoughts I give him… or does not respect a man who has the generosity to welcome me in his home.”

He snorted and, in an aggressive move, freed his arm from my grip. We did not speak again until the meeting began. I sat on Remus’ right, as far as I could from the wizard whose smell managed to reach me all the same and tortured my senses. Severus began his report as soon as everybody had arrived. The Dark Lord had been suspicious about his long stay at Zaharia, but given Zaharia’s silence and the fact that his report matched that of McNair, he had eventually convinced him and was welcomed back. While making his report, Severus managed to give us the impression that he was incredibly nimble-minded from the way he described the talented method (I admit it) by which he had managed his conversation with the Dark Lord. He could not have matched my first impression about him better.

He told us that the Death Eaters’ priority at the moment was to free the Death Eaters who had been imprisoned after the battle at the Ministry. Voldemort particularly counted on that since the Ministry of Magic had officially taken position and recognized his coming back to power. He needed all his Death Eaters, more if possible… and more allies.

“He has expressed his intention to meet with you as soon as possible, but is not ready to negotiate any treaty right now. His priority goes to the Death Eaters who are imprisoned,” he concluded.

“Why would he want to meet me, then?” I asked, forcing myself to look at him neutrally.

“He wants to evaluate you. He wants to see for himself if you can be trusted before you are allowed to come to any formal meeting.”

“Has a precise date been discussed, Severus?” asked Dumbledore.

“Yes. He wants me to bring her to him in three days, on the 20th. The meeting should be short and to the point; I do not expect too many Death Eaters to be present. Probably Pettigrew and Bellatrix.”

“I think it would be best for you, Antanasia, to meet with Severus before the meeting, so he can tell you about the details of what usually happens there. That way you can prepare yourself, for you will know what to expect,” Dumbledore suggested, with his usual warm smile while my stomach gave an unexpected jolt.

“That will not be necessary. I have prepared a document about all you need to know. I strongly suggest you read it a couple of times,” Severus dangerously purred, narrowing his dark eyes, “between a game of cards and a game of hide and seek.”

Still riveting his eyes to mine, he most condescendingly threw the rolled piece of parchment on the table. It slid and rolled across the table and bumped against Remus’ elbow. He picked it up and handed it to me. I stayed perfectly still, with my joined hands leaning right in front of me on the table; I did not even blink. I do not think I was even breathing. Remus eventually lowered his hand and left the roll of parchment next to me.

The disfigured man, who had not spoken since the beginning of the meeting, shook his head.

“What have you been thinking, son?\" he growled, in a voice that was even more hoarse than Remus’. \"Carrying written documents of that kind all around Hogwarts and London! I thought we had already discussed written documents here before!”

“The roll is sealed with several protective charms. It can only be opened with a sample of her blood!” Severus defensively retorted.

“Charms can be broken!”

“I have no time for meetings of that kind, Moody! I have work to do!” he snapped.

“If I didn’t know you better, my guess would be that you do not want to meet her… unless you’re scared to, son?” he replied, with a mocking smile.

“Alastor, please,” said Dumbledore, raising two soothing hands while Severus snorted derisively. “We are not here to criticize anybody. The parchment made it here safely; I have no doubt that Severus would not have made that choice without a good reason. And he has always respected the Order’s ways, just like everybody here has been doing so far. Alastor, your point is noted, though, as a reminder to everybody concerning written documents.”

I still was not breathing. Fortunately for me, a dark skinned wizard took the floor and made his report about Aurors’ activities at the Ministry, which derived everybody’s attention away from me, including Severus’, who did not set his eyes on me ever again until the end of the meeting. As everybody rose and started to exit the room, over an hour later, he came straight to me, to my surprise. Remus had been dragged outside by the disfigured old man, which left me alone to face the wizard.

“Meet me at 7:30pm, sharp, in front of the Leaky Cauldron on Diagon Alley. The parchment I gave you will provide all the information you need to know before the meeting. If you have questions, you can ask them next time we meet,” he murmured, in a voice that sounded completely indifferent.

“Agreed,” was all I could articulate before he turned back and walked towards the door.

I picked the parchment, which was still on the table, and was about to follow him outside when I heard Remus’ voice in the corridor. I could not discern what he was saying, but he seemed to be arguing with someone and I distinctly heard my name. Intrigued, I discreetly Transfigured into a dog and listened. Remus was talking to the old man.

“Really, all we did was spend some nice time together here.”

“She did nothing suspicious?”

“Many things look suspicious to you, Moody. But to me, everything she did was fine.”

“She sent any messages?”

“Yes. She sent an owl three nights ago,” he said, almost despite himself. “She met an old wizard who seemed to be a friend the following evening in a pub.”

“And you did not tell any of it to Dumbledore?” he exclaimed, sounding astounded.

“Dumbledore never said anything about her being our prisoner or having to be spied on!” he argued.

“I will report to Dumbledore about her owl and her… friend. I tell you, Lupin, you gotta be careful there! Yeh should never trust a creature who feeds on humans to survive!”

“She relies solely on potions; so do the rest of her kind!”

“Still! Her kind is turning to the Dark Lord, now. How do you know if she hasn’t turned to him, too? How do you know which one she saved between the Death Eater and the so-called Order member?”

“We’ve been over that one on countless occasions. Severus is an Order member; he has introduced himself as an Order member in Zaharia, and has acted accordingly.”

“We have no proof for that. Only the word of a bloody Death Eater and her word. She insisted quite a bit about accompanying Snape to Death Eaters meetings, last week!”

“She wants to participate in our cause, that’s all! Her husband got killed by a Death Eater, Moody, how could she fight at their side?”

“Yeh never know, son, yeh never know, with those women,” he growled. “You be careful; you watch your back. That’s all I ask.”

“I will do that, don’t worry,” he promised, reluctantly.

“And stop carrying your wand behind your ear like that; you’ll hurt someone or you’ll hurt yourself one of these days.”

“Good evening, Moody!” he said, walking him to the door.

I Transfigured back into myself and casually leaned against the table before he came back in the room. Remus knew I had overheard all the same. He walked into the room and sat in front of me.

“Please don’t take that conversation to heart, Antanasia. Moody was an excellent Auror in the past; he got a bit paranoiac with all the fights he has been in and all the personal attacks he’s had to face in his life.”

“For an excellent Auror and a paranoiac, he did not seem to worry too much about being overheard!” I retorted.

“To be honest with you, I think he did want to be overheard. The warning was aimed at you as well.”

“I see. In any case, I do want you to know something. I wanted to tell you about it before, but I was worried about your reaction… and I wanted to establish a firm contract before. The owl I sent was really sent to an old friend, Charles Hopkins. He gave me a job when Arnaud and I lived in London at the end of the seventies. I just wanted my old job back, to have some remuneration.”

“What kind of job is it?” he asked.

“Charles asks me to provide him with various items; mostly with animal products and plants that are very difficult or dangerous to find. For example, the contract he gave me a few days ago engages me to bring him two litres of unicorn blood, plus two bags of Acromantula fangs. And a bottle of slightly modified Draught of Peace for his wife, Dorothea.”

“Is that legal?” he asked, frowning.

“As far as I know, it is. First of all, I always manage to hurt animals as little as possible; I also carefully choose the areas in which I pick rare plants. I do not want to endanger them. Charles does declare the products I find for him and he sells them to various Apothecaries. He did ask me to brew a few potions that were… barely legal, in the past, but I always refused to brew anything that could cause harm to someone else.”

“Why have you asked him for another contract? And why didn’t you want to tell me about it?”

“Well…” I said, blushing slightly. “All the money I earned is locked in a vault, in Zaharia. I do not want to live out of people’s generosity forever! I wanted to buy myself some clothes and some potions supplies that I will eventually need anyway when the bottles of Blood potion run low. And as your roommate, I figured I had to contribute, in any way I could, to your well-being, just like you are doing for me.”

“I don’t do much, in comparison, Antanasia!” he replied, looking a bit embarrassed.

“You do a lot, to the contrary, Remus. You have been an example of patience since the last few days; you lifted my spirits on several occasions. That is invaluable. The situation is extremely simple: you have trouble finding a job; I have one. Unless you have a problem with the witch of the house being the one who brings money back home, let’s benefit from each other’s presence, like Dumbledore told me when he sent me here,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and giving his calf a small push with the tip of my shoe.

“He said that?”

“Absolutely. If you feel like it and if it makes you feel any better, you can help me brew some potions or pick up some plants. That would take us out of here from time to time. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, hugging my offered hand.

“Good. Now I do not know about you, but I desperately need a drink,” I said, walking towards the door.

“How did he get a sample of your blood to charm the parchment seal?” Remus asked, making our drinks and looking at me as I put a small drop of blood on the circle of red wax.

“That is the tricky question, is it not?” I answered, while the seal flashed blue and freed the two edges of the parchment. “He probably got it at the Hospital wing; maybe from samples Poppy might have taken.”

“Or old bandages?”

“Or old bandages… though she probably threw them away, just like my blouse. I guess we will never know; I am in no mood to ask Severus about that detail either tonight or later,” I said, unrolling the parchment and curling up in my armchair.

How many times I read that roll of parchment, I do not remember. But by the time I finally stopped rereading the words written in dark green ink, in a tight but fluid handwriting and an irreproachable grammar and orthography, my eyes were red and itchy. The message had been either re-written dozens of times, or his mind was exceptionally clear when he wrote it because it was concise and straight to the point. A series of recommendations was written in point form, without any greeting or closure sentence at the beginning or the end. I knew it all by heart, that very night, but even then, I did not have the courage to throw it in the fireplace. It was the first letter Severus had ever written to me; I have been keeping it, hidden among my clothes, since that night. Here is what it said.

- As soon as you enter the room, bow low and respectfully;
- Never look into his eyes unless he asks you to;
- Never speak unless he asks you to;
- Never use any of his names; address him as “Dark Lord” or “Lord” only;
- Never contradict his opinion;
- Never wear any piece of clothing that could look Muggle in origin, it will greatly irritate him; robes of a dark colour should be preferred;
- When you raise your Occlumency barriers, put a respectful fear on the front, never self-confidence or any positive emotion;
- Never attempt to contact me by Legilimency; I will refuse your link anyway;
- Act as neutrally as you possibly can, with me;
- Do not tell him any personal information unless you absolutely have to; pretend your afterlife has been uneventful;
- If he asks you to do something, take your time and do it meticulously; he does not respect weak fools who rush to obey his orders;
- By all means, do not attempt to seduce him; the last one who tried that ended disfigured for life;
- He might present you with a gift, as you are supposed to be Zaharia’s emissary. It might be many things; I suspect it will be a human. Accept that gift gratefully, feed and make no comments;
- Act like a typical cainite; do not display your obvious sympathy for werewolves.

When I lifted my eyes from the letter, I found the werewolf in question sleeping peacefully next to me, his book lying open against his chest. I levitated him to his bedroom one more time, mentally thanking him for attempting to spend most of the night with me, which was slowly becoming a habit with each passing night. I came back to the kitchen and started Dorothea’s Sleeping Draught, adding just a tad too much of horned toad blood, for an antidepressant effect. If I remember well, I spent the early morning sewing the hem of a heavily patched pair of trousers.

~*~

The following night was probably the most exhilarating of all the time I had spent in London so far. Its beginning, at least. Remus and I had agreed, over dinner, that he would accompany me to the Forbidden Forest to fill my contract’s requirements. He had proposed to fly us there instead of Apparating into Hogsmeade and I had jumped at the opportunity. It offered a nice change of routine to my usual Transfigurations and Apparating trips.

That is how, on a very chilly evening in October, I sat behind Remus on a broomstick and he surrounded us with a Disillusionment charm to prevent Muggles from seeing us. Clutching his sides and grabbing his cloak, I felt the wind whirl around us as we rose fast in the dark sky. I even let out a loud cry of excitement when he made a small detour and flew us straight up, along the Big Ben just as it rang the midnight hour. After he straightened the broomstick to a horizontal cruising angle, he patted my wrist with his hand. He did not have to look far for it; I had both of my arms wrapped tight around him at that point.

We landed on Hogwarts grounds, right next to Hagrid’s hut. We told him of our presence in the Forbidden Forest so he would not be surprised to find us there. He seemed happy to see Remus, and I took the occasion to thank him for bringing Severus and me back to the castle the night of our arrival. On our way to the forest, I looked over my shoulder and saw the castle’s illuminated windows. I wondered if Severus was next to one of them. I wondered if he had had a nice day, what he might be thinking about… but I quickly came back to reason and followed Remus on the forest track.

The Acromantulas were the easiest to find. There was quite a large community of them living there, which pleased me a lot. That way, I had the luxury of taking only one fang per beast, which still allowed them to feed and hunt without any inconvenience. Remus stayed perched at the top of a tree and Stunned them while I stayed on the ground and retrieved their precious fangs, occasionally Transfiguring into one of them when they got a bit too aggressive. Remus greatly impressed me with his precise shots; he almost never missed one and they were no easy targets, especially from his precarious position. Not to mention that while doing so, he was able to maintain a valuable source of light above my head.

We walked across the forest for a long while before we found a unicorn. I often had to Transfigure into an eagle and fly above the trees to scan our surroundings and prevent us from getting lost. We finally found one, quite young, as it was not completely white yet. Remus, as he was a man and a lycanthropic one in addition, stayed at a respectable distance while I trapped it with a Hypnotic spell and came close enough to calm it down and retrieve the precious silvery liquid from its neck. I was magically closing the puncture wound when I heard Remus’ cry behind me, immediately followed by a loud bang. A split second later, an arrow stuck in the tree in front of me, a few centimetres above my head.

“Protego!” he shouted, while a white mist surrounded him and bounced off all the arrows that reached him.

“Who is there?” I asked, rising to my full height and probing the darkness.

“Get away from that noble creature, demon!” said a deep manly voice coming from behind the trees.

“I am doing it no harm; it will recover within hours. I only took a small amount of its blood,” I explained, as calmly as I could.

“You are not welcome here! Go away!” said another male voice, while a second arrow whizzed next to my right temple.

“We were leaving anyway,” said Remus, who walked towards me. “Come, Antanasia.”

Remus quickly led us back to the path, explaining that we had most probably been attacked by Centaurs. Given the bad relations my kind has always had with them, I was not surprised at their most unfriendly attitude. Fortunately, no arrow hit Remus, though we found one that had pierced the bottom of his cloak, once we were out of the forest.

We retrieved his broomstick at Hagrids’ and, after a few minutes of polite conversation, we took leave. Once we were back home, chilled to the bone but still thrilled from the ride and the evening’s events, Remus helped me remove my cloak and hung it in the closet.

“When we flew over the Quidditch pitch, I had an idea… do you like to see Quidditch games? I bet we could manage to see one of Hogwarts matches; the season usually begins in November. A good Disillusionment Charm, warm cloaks and gloves should be all we would need.”

“Why not?” I replied, while following him downstairs to the dining room. “I am not what you could call a fan, but I would not mind. Only if the day is cloudy, though.”

“It’s true, I had almost forgotten that detail… I am sure you could find shelter in the castle if the sun is too intense for you. Dumbledore would probably not mind at all.”

“Is Griffyndor still a good team? Minerva told me a lot about it.”

“Harry, Sirius’ godson, is Seeker for the Griffyndor team. And one of the Weasley’s sons is Keeper since last year. They have won the cup!” he explained, his eyes shining with excitement.

“Well, we should go, then. I might even get a glimpse of Neville again…. That makes me think… why does Alice Longbottom not come to the meetings anymore, Remus? I have not seen her husband either… Frank, is that it?”

“You knew Alice and Frank?” he asked, in a grave voice.

“I have seen Frank only one time, I think, but Alice escorted me back to Poland when I fled England in 1979. I have even met her son, Neville, in Hogwarts after my arrival! A most charming young man, I must say. I was looking forward to seeing Alice and congratulating her,” I explained, putting the bag of potions supplies on the table.

“Antanasia, sit down, will you?” he softly said, leading me to my armchair.

“Something wrong happened to them?”

“Yes. They were captured shortly after Neville’s birth, barely a year later, if I am not mistaken. You heard Severus talking about Bellatrix during the meeting; she is the one who captured them. They had escaped Voldemort many times before, but… not that time.”

“Tell me the truth. They got killed?”

“Worse. They were interrogated and tortured with the Cruciatus curse, for quite a long time before they were released. They are in St Mungo’s hospital now. Neither of them recognises anyone. Their condition seems permanent, unfortunately. I’m sorry….”

I joined my hands together and rested my fingers against my lips, eyes closed. It was better not to look anyway; I did not want to see the horrors of reality, if only for a few seconds. Alice had spent so much time comforting me, with a warm and protective hand over her belly, which had not yet began to show the first signs of the new and growing presence that was in there. I had listened to her telling me for hours about all the things she dreamedabout for her child. I remembered how she had smiled when I had revealed the gender of her baby, at her request. She had refused to let me show her what her son would look like later, preferring to let the passing years reveal it to her little by little. Poor Alice!

A pair of large, warm and scabrous hands that delicately took mine and brought them down interrupted my painful thoughts.

“What happened to Neville?” I asked, fighting back my tears.

“He was raised by Frank’s mother. She seems to be a severe woman, but she seems to take good care of him all the same.”

“My little prince…” I murmured dreamily, as Remus’ hands gently hugged mine.

“All this will come to an end, Antanasia, one day, you’ll see.”

We did not speak much, during the rest of the night. Our two armchairs somehow joined together and became a loveseat at some point. I do not remember who had the idea to Transfigure them, but I was grateful, however, for the comforting shoulder Remus offered me that evening to rest my head on. The warmth of his body and the peacefulness of his presence, added to the mesmerizing dance of the flames in front of us on that cold evening, prevented that coldness from penetrating our souls and seizing our hearts. That time, it was I who fell asleep first.

~*~

It was a minute before 7:30 pm on my watch when I Apparated next to the Leaky Cauldron on Diagon Alley. It was a horrible evening; an icy cold rain was falling pretty heavily and the wind was blowing hard. And I wore robes instead of pants. And I only had thin silk stockings under these robes to protect me from the cold. I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head and wrapped it tighter against my sides, cursing Severus for having me wait outside.

I did not have to wait long, however. As I scrutinized the damp darkness in front of me, I saw the outline of a tall shadow, which seemed to be gliding over the ground among the few witches and wizards who were hurrying along the street. The shadow became clearer and clearer, until I recognized the hooded silhouette I had seen flying over the Carpathian Mountains, what seemed ages ago.

Severus came very close to me and, without saying a word, motioned me to walk beside him. He walked on Diagon Alley for a few meters, then took a turn and led us down a staircase that took us in a rather narrow and gloomy street. Still without a whisper, he walked on that street, ignoring the lugubrious crowd we found in there. Homeless people were laying here and there over piles of old boxes and wrapped in damp editions of the Daily Prophet. Their smell was a most repulsive mix of sweat, dirt and badly digested Firewhisky. A few blocks down, a prostitute, dressed in rather transparent and flashy red robes, open on the front with a long slit that went up from her knees to the very top of her hips, stepped in the street and casually leaned against the wall. Deploying a bony leg in front of him and leaning her high-heeled shoe against the wall, she took a cigarette out of her mouth and spoke, in a syrupy voice that she probably believed sexy.

“Need some company tonight, gorgeous?”

He did not reply, but I saw him look at her, right in the eyes. She removed her leg, giggling softly and looked at me.

“I see you already found some, this time…” she added.

I tried to ignore her last words as we walked past her. She was most obviously high on some stimulant potion and I told myself that her words probably meant nothing anyway. Either about me or about Severus. We walked along that street for a few more blocks, and then stopped next to what seemed to be a store backdoor. He tapped it twice with his wand, murmured a spell I did not hear and the door flung open. We quickly entered and he closed the door behind us, plunging us completely in the dark.

“We are safe here,” he murmured next to me.

“Are we at the meeting place?” I asked.

“No. We only use this spot to Apparate there without being seen. Do you have any question before we go there?”

“No. The document you prepared was very helpful, thank you,” I sneered.

“Did you get rid of it?”

“I did,” I lied.

“There is just one thing I want to warn you about, before we get there, though,” he said, after a small pause. “You might not know this detail, but the Dark Lord does not look too… human anymore. He went through several magical transformations. His appearance might be a shock at first, but you will get used to it. Just try to remain neutral.”

“I will do my best.”

“I will ask them the permission to Apparate,” he said, as a small light appeared at the tip of his wand.

He walked to the wall, and then slid his wand against it. A small trace of silvery light appeared on it, while Severus unbuttoned his left sleeve and uncovered his forearm, revealing the Dark Mark. He pressed it against the wall for several seconds, until the light turned blue. He removed his arm and buttoned his shirt, very patiently.

“Nox,\" he murmured. \"Now all we have to do is wait for the signal,” he explained, turning to me in the pale blue glow. “The Anti-Apparating Charms will not be removed for long, however, so I suggest you take position now.”

I raised my eyebrows, wondering what he might mean by “taking position”, but as he opened his arms, I understood at once. With a bit of dread, and a very painful lump in my throat, I walked towards him and pressed my body against his as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and torso. His smell invaded my nose with the move of our embrace and my stomach tightened instantly. Even more when I felt the touch of his left arm, as he wrapped it around me, just against the small of my back.

“Nervous?” he murmured, next to my ear.

“Yes. A bit,” I answered, as my nose got buried in his thick and smooth hair.

“You are hiding it well; I cannot feel anything.”

“You told me to use my Occlumency barriers; I am following your advice,” I said casually, as I suddenly became aware of his heart thumping madly inside his chest. “What about you? Are you nervous?”

“…”

“You are hiding it well; I cannot feel anything. Anything at all…” I whispered.

He did not have the time to reply; the blue glowing line on the wall started to move and shaped into the Dark Mark.

“That is the signal. Prepare yourself.”

I tightened my grip around him, pressing myself even tighter against his body, and leaned my forehead against his shoulder. He clutched my waist and waved his wand. In a flash, I felt my feet leave the ground and everything around us seemed sucked upwards, plunging us in an indefinite emptiness. Seconds later, however, I felt my feet hit the ground again.

We found ourselves in an antechamber with no doors or windows. The room was in fact the dead end of a long corridor. The place seemed to be specifically designed as an Apparating site, because several footprints were all around us and converged away from where we were. Without saying a word, Severus walked in front of me and I followed him, trying to prepare myself for the sight I was about to get of the famous wizard who was feared by so many. Including me.

Severus walked to a door and pushed it open. He walked in and I followed, trying to focus my attention on him. I barely got a sight of dark curtains and a woman sitting on a chair, before Severus bent forward in a respectful bow; I followed his example.

“Welcome, Severus,” said a strange and cold voice above our heads. “I see that you have brought the emissary as planned.”

“Yes, my Lord. This is Antanasia, from the Clan of Zaharia,” he said, in a perfectly controlled voice, still looking at the ground.

“Bring her to me,” he ordered.

We straightened up. As we did, I saw a pair of feet in black leather shoes, and then a long set of black robes, two thin white hands and finally, a face that I would never forget. Severus had been wise to warn me; without preparation, I would have gasped in horror. What I had in front of me was no longer human indeed. His face was bony and deadly white, as if he had been completely drunk dry. Yet his eyes were of a fiery red and had vertical pupils, very similar to those of a snake. There did not seem to by any hair left on his skull, though I could not be certain, because the hood of his robes was wrapped around his head.

I did not have the time to stare at him for long, however. Severus most delicately picked my hand and the touch of his ever cold fingers shook me back to a composed state of mind. He lifted my hand and led me to Voldemort, who rose as I approached. Before I could wonder if I had to bow again or not, Severus let go of my hand and bowed again, walking back. I felt like his absent hand had let me fall down a bottomless cliff. I was left alone in front of the Dark Lord. And I felt terribly alone indeed.

He looked at me for a few seconds, with me focusing on the lower part of his hood somewhere over his sternum, in an attitude I thought humble and respectful. His chest rose up and down, in slow and steady moves, reassuring me that the creature was alive indeed. All the muscles of my body became tense as I felt the tip of his wand press under my chin, forcing me to look up. I offered no resistance and stared into the two infernal orbits that were his eyes. He did try to penetrate my mind. Without even taking the time to question me first. But my mental barriers resisted his attempts. All he perceived was respect and fear. The latter was not too difficult to make salient.

“Why have you chosen to join me, Antanasia?” he finally asked, with his high-pitched voice.

“Because I believe it is my Clan’s, and my kind’s, best interest to fight at your side, your Lordship.”

“Why did Marilena send you to me?”

“She did not send me to you, your Lordship. Seeing that Severus was leaving Transylvania without a definite answer from her, I volunteered to follow him in England and report to my Lady. She accepted my offer.”

“My Lady…” hissed the horrible voice. “What will you do if your Lady finally decides to make the wrong choice?”

“Then she shall be my Lady no more, your Lordship,” I replied, with all the seriousness I could find in me.

“Have you received any news from her, or anybody in the Clan?”

“I have received news from Kerescen, the brood leader you contacted through your other emissary. He chose to fight at your side and has made it known to the rest of the Clan. Lady Marilena still has not given me any news.”

“What should I think of that silence?” he asked.

“My kind has always had the reputation of being slow at making decisions, whether they are important or not. I am therefore not surprised that Lady Marilena is taking some time to ponder her answer.”

He looked at me for a few more seconds, narrowing his red eyes. He finally walked even closer from me and I felt all the unmistakable strenght of the powers he possessed, both magical and non-magical. They reached me in regular and powerful waves, like a harsh wind blows restlessly against a lonely house in the middle of a valley.

“It is in your best interest not to make any attempt to fool me, Antanasia of Zaharia. I guess Severus there has told you what the consequences would be if I ever realised you did.”

“He has not, but I can very well imagine them, your Lordship.”

“Here is a little something that will help you figure it out. Crucio!”

The suddenness of the hit threw me right on the floor, on my back. The pain was intolerable, and something very insidious in my mind told me that the intensity was only a fraction of what he was capable of inflicting upon me. I wondered what was that horrible sound that filled the room. It was loud and primal and touched me deep inside, deep in my guts. I silently begged whoever was making that terrible noise to stop. Until I realised that it was me who was screaming, uncontrollably. My whole body seemed tortured with various burns, cuts, scratches and hits, all at the same time. I wondered if it would leave marks, even if I rationally knew it would not. I forced myself to open my eyes. Severus was still bowing, very low. I got a furtive glimpse of his face through the curtain of his black hair. His eyes were closed. Closed very tight.

“You may go, now. I guess the lesson has been productive. Wait in the corridor,” he said, after a few minutes that had felt like hours.

I rose on trembling legs, panting like a wounded animal, on my own, as Severus did nothing to help me get up. It took all my resources not to break down in tears, but I did have some dignity left. I forced my aching body into a last bow.

“Thank you for receiving me, your Lordship,” I articulated, in a voice that sounded less hoarse than I expected.

And, without looking up, I walked backward to the door and got out. Once the door closed behind me, I threw up in the corridor. Thankfully, Severus stayed a few more minutes with the Dark Lord, which gave me the time to clean up the mess, drag my feet to the Apparating site and slowly slide down against the wall. Severus found me sitting on the floor, my whole body trembling in a mixed sensation of cold, pain and shock. I was too distressed to cry. He most delicately lifted me up on my feet and, without a word, put my two feeble arms around him. We Disapparated back to London at once.

I remember that the trip back to Grimmauld Place seemed terribly long, but was uneventful. The shock of feeling the cold rain against my face brought back a little liveliness inside of me. After a while, I was able to walk relatively steadily next to Severus, but he still had to support me. As we made our way along the gloomy street, we passed in front of the prostitute again, who sniggered, while blowing out her last puff and throwing her cigarette on the floor.

“Some just can’t take it hard, eh?” she mocked.

The protective hug I got from Severus’ arm around my waist meant the world to me that very moment. He did not say anything. He did not have to. I did not need him to. His touch, as strong and steady as his presence next to me, sent waves of strength throughout all my body and soul, making me just clench my teeth and keep walking. Once we found ourselves in front of the Headquarters, he hurriedly opened the door, after thoroughly probing our surroundings in order to make perfectly sure that we had not been followed.

“Lupin! Come here at once!” he called, or rather barked, the minute the door closed behind us.

Remus was already running upstairs from the kitchen and was in the hall in the blink of an eye. Unfortunately, Severus’ call woke up Mrs Black, who started screaming her usual insults. Over the noise, Severus asked Remus to bring a glass of Leukoscotch to my room and escorted me towards the stairs. He meant to lift me in his arms to spare me the effort of going up, but I protested and insisted that I was able to do it on my own two feet. I still wanted to keep some dignity after the reaction I had shown him.

Once we found ourselves on my bedroom doorstep, Severus stopped dead.

“How come you have no coffin in here?” he said, in a voice that almost sounded exasperated.

“It seems like the Black family was not used to receive guests of our kind and keep them overday. We did not find any coffin in the house.”

He huffed and helped me sit on the bed, after removing my cloak and putting it on a chair next to my bed to dry. I gasped as I saw his shirt, still lying in a shapeless lump on the floor right next to the chair, but if he saw it, he did not say anything about it. Remus arrived shortly after with a glass of Leukoscotch. He handed it to me with a most sincere expression of worry spread all over his face.

“Are you ok, Antanasia?” he asked.

“Of course she is not ok, Lupin!” he snapped. “I told Dumbledore a hundred times that she would not be ok and indeed, she is not ok! He hit her with the Cruciatus!”

“I am fine, Severus,” I assured him, after a few sips of Leukoscotch brought a more healthy paleness to my cheeks. “It is just the aftershock of the curse, I will not feel it anymore tomorrow.”

Severus stayed a few more minutes, surveying my intake of alcohol. He then made me lie down, wrapped me loosely in the bed cover and crouched next to my face.

“You did well in there, Antanasia. The Dark Lord bought your story; everything is working according to plan. I cannot promise you that he will not torture you again during the next meetings, but I think it most likely that he will not. He told me he would contact me if he wanted to see you again. Until then, you are to contact me at once if you have news from Lady Marilena. As for the aftershock, there is only one way to get rid of it. Look at me.”

I turned on my side to keep my face comfortably turned towards his and abandoned my mental barriers once I understood what he wanted to do. I felt his hand, still a bit wet with rain, come next to my cheek and his cold thumb rest against my temple. I heard his baritone voice order me to sleep and then, gradually, all that existed were his two dark eyes, fixing me… then only darkness… then only comfort.

~*~

FOOTNOTE
In French, \"Princesse de la nuit\" means princess of the night.

AUTHOR’S NOTE
I hope you are enjoying the story so far! I would really appreciate some reviews. It does not take much of your time and it tells me if you like where the story is going or not! It’s in your best interest, in a way! Writing 25-30 pages every week (nearly 40, this week) represents a lot of work; your comments are a valuable reward! :o)