One wish alone have I

Chapter 12 (part 2)
The full moon came...

When I woke up in the late afternoon, Remus was no longer in bed. The faint sound of a running shower, a few floors down, came to my ears and informed me where he was at once. I stretched and sat in the bed, a bit puzzled. I was normally a very light sleeper, and I was surprised that I had not woken up when he had left the bed. I thoughtfully caressed his pillow, and picked a lonely hair that had fallen onto the fabric. I wrapped my arms around my knees and playfully intertwined it with my fingers, thinking of the morning’s events. Severus’ face flashed in my mind once again, just like it had in my dreams during the entire day. It was so precise, yet appeared for such a short time, that I could not decide if it was a trick of my own mind or foresight.

Remus’ steps, limping slowly up the stairs, interrupted my thoughts. For a moment, I slightly panicked. I did not know in what state of mind I would find him after the morning’s events. Did he regret them? Was he happy or embarrassed? Would he want more? Given another wizard\'s presence in my thoughts, I did not really feel ready to find out yet. I chose to address the question later and quickly Disapparated to my own room.

I found myself face to face with the usually empty portrait on the wall. However, that this time it was not empty at all; a dark-haired wizard with fine features and dressed in old-fashioned purple robes was leaning against the frame, looking completely bored. After a few seconds, I recognized the Hogwarts Headmaster I had seen in Dumbledore’s office before. When he saw me, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and uttered something that sounded like “at last” under his breath. Without a word, he started to walk towards the side of the portrait.

“Excuse me, Sir! Can I help you?” I exclaimed. “Are you looking for something?”

“I was waiting for you to come back to your room,” he answered, nonchalantly returning to the portrait.

“And now that I have… where were you going?” I asked.

“Back to my other portrait in Hogwarts, where you have seen me before.”

“Did Dumbledore send you here?”

“Yes, he did,” he admitted, sounding annoyed.

“Does he have a message for us?” I insisted, and started to feel annoyed, too.

“If he had, I would have told you already, Madam.”

“Then why were you waiting for my return?”

“Dumbledore asked me to alert him when you are back in your room, and that is what I was about to do. Now, if you will excuse me…”

And with this, he vanished from the portrait, leaving me quite bewildered. I took some clothes and left for the bathroom. After a good and refreshing shower, and having a pretext to start a casual conversation with Remus, I felt much more confident to face him. I took the time to carefully brush and do my hair, and after changing my robes three times, I finally opted for the green one that he seemed to prefer.

When I arrived downstairs, joyful swing music was playing on the old record player. That was usually a very good sign; I had noticed that Remus ordinarily listened to jazz or blues songs when he was in a bad mood. He was in the kitchen, cooking some eggs, so I casually leaned against the doorframe and observed him for a few seconds, remembering how those large and sturdy shoulders had felt under my hands.

“Good evening!” I said, as calmly as I could.

“Good evening,” he politely answered, still looking at the pan.

That unusual attitude took me by surprise. I wondered if I had been wrong in coming to the kitchen that early after he woke up, and I started to feel nervous. Nevertheless, trusting Remus’ good nature, I opted to give him a chance and tested the waters, so to speak.

“Tell me…. Should I make you some tea or may I tell you what I saw in my resting room tonight, without risking having my head chopped off?” I taunted.

He turned to me and smiled, lifting his cup of tea in front of me. The glowing light I saw in his eyes, despite the unhealthy paleness that was spread all over his face, wiped away all my worries.

“Go ahead, I’m all ears,” he said, before he turned back to his pan and slid his eggs on a plate.

“You remember the portrait in my room? You told me it is one of your friend Sirius’ ancestors… what is his name again?”

“Phineas Nigellus,” he answered, grabbing his cane and walking towards me.

“He was in his frame when I came back to my room earlier this evening. I questioned him; he did not tell me much, but he did say that Dumbledore had asked him to wait for my return and alert him when I was back,” I explained, preceding Remus in the dining area.

“Did Dumbledore have any message at all?” he asked, sitting at the table with a wince.

“Apparently not, according to Nigellus,” I replied, sitting in front of him.

“Dumbledore does ask Nigellus to deliver us some messages, in the case of an emergency or when we cannot use other means of communication. I fail to see why Dumbledore wanted him to wait for you, but if he wants us to know the reason, we will know sooner or later. I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you,” he said, spreading butter over his toast.

“If you say so… how do you feel this evening?” I tentatively asked.

“Not so bad… hungrier than usual, to be honest!” he answered, taking a big bite of eggs.

“And the pain?”

“My leg always hurts the following morning and days afterward, that was to be expected. But the rest is quite tolerable… I don’t know if it’s the potion you gave me, or the lotion… or, well… your bedside manner, but whatever it is, it does help a great deal.”

“Good, good,” I said, scratching an imaginary dirty spot on the table.

“About that…” he began, putting his toast back on his plate.

“Yes, about that…” I repeated, unable to fully express what I wanted to tell him… which I did not really know, anyway.

“I just wanted to thank you for what you did; it helped get me through the attack quite much easier.”

“Oh… well, my pleasure,” I answered, a bit disappointed.

“I hope you didn’t mind my honesty; it has been a while since the last time I had someone next to me the following morning.”

“Your honesty is what I like the most about you, Remus,” I said, still looking at the table.

“And… what about the rest of the day?” he asked, riveting his eyes on me.

“What part are you talking about, exactly?” I replied, trying to buy some time and let him break the ice first.

“The part where you took care of more than my lycanthropy symptoms, Antanasia,” he said, grabbing my hand on the table.

“Quite frankly… I slept better than I had in days,” I admitted, holding his hand in mine and finally looking at him.

“In that case, I just want to tell you… whenever you feel like reliving the experience, don’t hesitate…”

“If you tell me that your leg still hurts, I guess I will have to refill the prescription anyway?” I suggested, with a smile.

“I don’t mind refilling the prescription, but I am a bit worried about the side effects…”

“I guess we will be able to deal with them as they show up…”

I was about to get up and walk to the other side of the table when a discreet cough coming from the other end of the room startled us both. Once again, Severus stood in the doorframe, clothed in what looked like work robes. From the look on his face, he seemed torn between the urge to run upstairs to the front door and the urge to storm into the room. As a result, he stood right where he was, arms crossed over his chest looking extremely uncomfortable. I hurriedly removed my hand from Remus’, feeling like a child who had been caught doing something reprehensible.

“Severus! We didn’t hear you coming,” said Remus.

“That is probably because your attention was focused elsewhere,” he retorted, finally choosing to enter the room.

“What brings you here so early in the evening?” I asked, in a voice that half sounded like somebody else’s.

“I would have come even earlier in the day, but Dumbledore told me you had requested not to be disturbed until later this evening. I did not know why, but now I understand perfectly what could have motivated such a request,” he said, looking at Remus and plunging a hand into his robes. “I received a most surprising package in the middle of last night. A bird of prey brought it to me, but from its content, I deduced it in fact belonged to you. Hagrid identified the bird as a Red Kite, if that may be of any help.”

I frowned and took the package he handed me. In shock, I recognised the wrapping at once.

“Valerica! It is one of her favourite scarves!” I exclaimed, untying it with feverish hands.

“Who is Valerica?” asked Severus.

“She is one of my close friends, and Ivantie’s Sire. She is the leader of the most powerful and ancient Clan in Poland,” I explained.

The wrapping revealed a most surprising package indeed. Carefully protected by the scarf was my poetry book, perfectly intact, as I had seen it last. Even the tiny drop of dried blood was still present on the cover. I gasped in surprise and put a hand to my mouth, reliving the rush of powerful emotions that had seized my heart during those intense and trying moments. I gave a meaningful look to Severus and saw, hidden somewhere in his dark eyes, that he was reliving a few memories, too. Especially when he saw me instinctively grab the book and press it against my heart.

“Did anything else come with it?” I asked, after a few speechless moments.

“No, although I found something between the pages. Take a look and tell me what you think,” he said, sitting next to me at last.

I opened the book and saw that a feather marked a page at the end of the book. I took the feather in my hands and received what felt like a Stunning jinx. Severus sensed the extent of my reaction, because he frowned and looked at me with what could have even been considered as concern in his gaze. I took a deep breath and ran my fingers along the feather many times, my eyes unfocused over an imaginary spot above Severus’ shoulder. My eyes filled with tears as I pressed the feather against my lips, caressing and kissing it, feeling the imprint that was still vibrant everywhere on it.

“What is wrong?” Severus asked, letting concern definitely pierce through his usually controlled voice.

I said nothing, but let the feather transmit its own eloquence to him, knowing that his powerful Legilimency skills would allow him to feel it. I took one of Severus’ hands, carefully placed the feather in his palm and closed his fingers on it with both of my hands. I closed my eyes, keeping my hands protectively wrapped around his, and felt a few teardrops fall from my eyes and land on his skin with a most discreet sound, just like dew would roll down from a flower’s petal and fall on a leaf below. When I opened my eyes again, I saw that he was concentrating hard on the imprint I was transmitting him. Before the tears dried on his skin, he snapped his eyes open and exclaimed, “Ivantie!”

“Yes, Ivantie…” I said, smiling and crying at the same time. “He usually Transfigures into a Grey Falcon… or a Red Kite, like the one who brought the package here.”

“Is there any other information on the feather or the scarf?” he asked.

“Kerescen is far more skilled than I am at feeling the imprint from objects, unfortunately. He could even tell you what clothes Ivantie was wearing before he Transfigured, or what mood Valerica was in when she made the package, if indeed it was her who made it. I can just feel their presence and nothing more, I am sorry.”

“It is already more than we knew, at least. Look at the poem that the feather marked,” he suggested, looking down at the book that was still lying open on my lap.

I looked down as well, and read a poem that I almost found ironic, given the circumstances. It was “Desire” from Mihai Eminescu. I read it aloud for Remus to hear as well, which brought me back, for a brief moment, to the comfort of my Recamier… in my resting room… in Zaharia.

“Come now to the forest\'s spring
Running wrinkling over the stones,
To where lush and grassy furrows
Hide away in curving boughs.

Then you can run to my open arms,
Be held once more in my embrace,
I\'ll gently lift that veil of yours
To gaze again upon your face.

And then you can sit upon my knee,
We\'ll be all alone, alone there,
While the lime-tree thrilled with rapture
Showers blossoms on your hair.

Your white brow with those golden curls
Will slowly draw near to be kissed,
Yielding as prey to my greedy mouth
Those sweet, red, cherry lips . . .

We\'ll dream only happy dreams
Echoed by wind\'s song in the trees,
The murmur of the lonely spring,
The caressing touch of the gentle breeze.

And drowsy with this harmony
Of a forest bowed deep as in prayer,
Lime-tree petals that hang above us
Will fall sifting higher and higher.”

“Do you think it should be interpreted literally?” asked Severus, when I put the book down on my knees and took a long, deep breath.

“I think so; coming from someone of my kind, this is clearly a rendezvous request. The thing is, Severus, we are not sure that this package was meant for me.”

“It is your poetry book,” he argued.

“It was before. Since then, I am not sure it only belongs to me,” I said, closing the book and discreetly pointing at the dried drop of blood on the cover.

Severus’ lips became more tensely pressed against each other, but he did not say a word.

“That poem,” I continued, “is about a lover remembering sweet moments and asking for one more encounter.”

“I still do not see why it could have been addressed to me…” he replied, in an even more controlled voice.

“Did either Catalina or Cami… visit you, after the 25th of August?”

“Why do you want to know that?” he asked, eyeing Remus, who suddenly tried to look fascinated by the few remaining bits of eggs on his empty plate.

“Did you see them again, Severus?” I insisted, trying to sound as neutral as I could.

“If you must know, yes,” he articulated.

“Before or after my visits, you bastard?” I thought, surprised by the intensity of my reaction.

“In that case, the possibility is there even more. Cami and Catalina both have blond hair; the poem mentions a lover with golden curls.”

“Do you really think we should take the poem that literally?” suggested Remus. “Maybe things should be considered in a different context.”

“Meaning?” snapped Severus, still looking at me intensely.

“From what you said, Antanasia, the scarf belongs to your friend Valerica and the feather belongs to Ivantie. That makes two cainites who are related to you personally.”

“And Ivantie can very well fit with the description of an old lover, don’t you think?” Severus added, with an ironic smile curling the corners of his mouth.

“There are many, many things that make Ivantie and I more than friends. Nevertheless, Severus, there are numerous things that do not make us a couple,” I replied, patiently. “How come the bird flew directly through your window instead of mine?”

“As far as they know, we left Zaharia together. They probably thought that I had returned to Hogwarts and would know where to find you. Besides, with the Fidelius Charm on the house, the bird would have never been able to find you even if it had been ordered to.”

“Could it simply be a trap?” asked Remus.

“I don’t think so. This book has an awful lot of history… I dropped it on the floor right before I followed Severus out of the window. Valerica was sitting next to me; she might very well have picked it up.”

“But why would she wait until now to send it to you?” asked Severus.

“I guess that is what we want to find out,” I answered. “Is there a spring somewhere in the Forbidden Forest that we could use?”

“There are many of them, according to Hagrid. They all converge to the lake. Dumbledore and I had come to the rendezvous conclusion as well, and we have gathered some information already.”

“And what about lime-trees?”

“There are some lime-trees in the Forest; I use the leaves for a few potions. That might narrow down the possible contact points.”

“I think these two elements are the most salient in the poem. The spring, I can figure, but the lime-tree… it represents doubt, for my ancestors. I wonder if that should tell us something. We shall see.”

“What will you do from here?” asked Remus.

“I will find a spring in the Forbidden Forest, with a lime-tree nearby, and wait.”

“I will come with you,” Remus said, rising from his seat.

“You are going nowhere with that leg of yours, Remus,” I replied firmly. “I do not want you to overuse it; you will suffer unnecessarily. The poem specifies that the person is to be there alone, anyway.”

“I don’t like the idea of you waiting all by yourself in the Forbidden Forest, Antanasia,” he insisted. “Last time we were there, you got attacked by Centaurs…”

“I will see to her safety, Lupin,” intervened Severus, in an authoritative voice that put an end to the debate. “You are obviously in no condition to help. In any way whatsoever.”

Remus did not reply but grabbed his plate and cane rather brusquely. He was in the kitchen in the blink of an eye and made his plate meet the counter quite unceremoniously. Severus was already on his feet, adjusting his robes over his shoulders with an arrogant smile. I rose and shot him a disapproving glance before I joined Remus in the kitchen.

“I prefer to know you are here relaxing in a comfortable armchair than standing in the cold all night, Remus,” I whispered, retrieving a Blood Potion bottle from the refrigerant cupboard.

“The thing is, I don’t mind doing this! Staying here will not be useful to anybody,” he bitterly replied.

I was about to answer when I saw Severus stroll around in the dining area and stop in front of the fireplace, fixing the flames. I was not fooled by his apparently indifferent attitude; he was listening raptly to our conversation. I hesitated for a few seconds, and then had an idea. I hurriedly traced a message on the inside of the cupboard door, in fiery red letters, and attracted Remus’ attention to it before it disappeared. When he read the message, his frown instantly vanished. It said, “Keep your bed sheets warm.”

“That would be extremely useful, I think. Surely you can do it all by yourself now,” I added, as if I were talking about doing the dishes.

“I will do my best,” he said, beaming at me.

“I expect you to,” I replied, brushing my fingers discreetly against his sleeve before I walked into the dinner area. “Severus, I will go upstairs and change into warmer clothes. It must be around dinnertime at Hogwarts by now. If you are hungry, help yourself; there are some leftovers in the cupboard. I will be back as quickly as I can.”

I ran upstairs and changed into a warm pair of pants and woollen pullover, keeping an eye on Professor Nigellus’ portrait just in case he had the very bad idea to come back into his frame while I did. My eyes fell on Severus’ shirt, still neatly folded on the chair next to the wardrobe. I was almost amazed to find it there, as I had not really paid attention to it since over a week ago, and wondered why I had not thought to send it back to Severus. My fingers were inches away from grabbing it when a sharp knock on the door made me jump.

“Can you hurry, Antanasia? The night has fallen already,” said a muffled baritone voice behind the door.

“Yes, yes, I am ready,” I replied, walking to the door at once and forgetting the shirt completely.

I followed him downstairs and while I put my cloak on my shoulders I told Remus, who was at the bottom of the staircase, “Don’t forget to take another dose of the potion I gave you this morning, the one in the red bottle. Wait until your next meal, though; after the first twelve hours post-attack, it is better to drink it with some food.”

“Don’t worry, I will follow your prescriptions literally; all of them!” he replied, winking at me before I walked out.

“Oh! But do not eat any nuts with it!” I yelled from the doorframe, as Severus was already way ahead, “or tomorrow you will be covered with pimples!”

“Demon! Creature of hell! Get out of my house, you tomb violator! You shall soil the house of my fathers no more, NO MORE!”

“Got it! Go, now!” Remus yelled back, over the noise.

~*~

“Severus, really, it is getting awfully late! If you have to teach tomorrow morning, you will barely be able to get a few hours of sleep!” I insisted, with the last argument I could find.

“Antanasia, for the hundredth time, I will stay here with you until you leave the Forest. Stop arguing, will you?” he replied impatiently, putting a few more branches in the fire.

Severus and I waited for hours, near a spring in the Forbidden Forest. This particular spring had more than one lime-tree, so we had opted for it. It was not too deep in the forest, but contrary to the other springs we found, this one was not in a clearing and trees closely surrounded us. We sat on an old trunk lying on the ground that was covered with moss. After the first hour of waiting, nothing happened, other than Severus’ stomach starting to protest quite loudly about its food deprivation, though Severus himself kept claiming that he was not hungry. I finally won the argument, at least, when I called him rude for not sharing a meal with me. Either he got tired of my insistence or his stomach simply won the fight, but he finally conceded and left me for about twenty minutes to get some food in the castle.

We refreshed ourselves in silence around a joyful fire, him with an improvised sandwich and me with a bottle of Blood potion, but both listening raptly for any sign that could indicate someone else’s presence around us, be it a friend or an enemy. When I think back about that moment I remember how peaceful I felt, curiously. I appreciated Severus’ silent presence at my side and did not wish once that he would go away. My earlier insistence was purely there for form and did not reflect a genuine wish for solitude. Once more, I remembered our silent conversations in the dungeon or in his room, which could last for hours without either of us getting tired of it. It made me realise how quickly I had found myself trapped in the craziness of recent events, as until then I had forgotten how that wizard’s mere presence, even when completely silent, had its own eloquent expressiveness.

Severus kept his eyes set on the flames in front of us, as if he were totally lost in some private thoughts that I did not dare to inquire about or probe by myself. Yet the second we heard a cracking or swishing sound he turned in that direction, his senses alert. I felt safe at his side; he was perfectly able to insure my safety, just like he had said. From time to time, I rose to my feet and strolled along the spring, which cascaded in discreet but joyful sounds down a small wall of rocks and shaped in a stream that disappeared under the ground, a few yards further into the woods.

It was during one of those silent walks that I noticed something moving, next to the trunk of one of the lime-trees. I walked closer and saw one of its dead leaves rise slowly from the ground and float upward, in midair. Once it reached a certain height it trembled, as if the wind were playing with it once more. In a flash, it turned green and seemed to be brought back to life, in front of my amazed eyes. Still rising, it finally found its place and attached itself on a branch. Similarly, a few other leaves followed its example, attracting Severus’ attention.

“Someone is charming the leaves,” he murmured, narrowing his eyes and looking around suspiciously, “and it is not you.”

“But it should be me,” I replied, in a sudden shiver of inspiration. “How can the wind sing in the trees if all their leaves are on the ground?”

“What?” he said, turning back to me.

“The poem… it mentioned that the wind will echo the dreams in its song… but it would sing much better if there were leaves in these trees!”

“Why not…it would give us something to do. Can I give you a hand?”

“Most certainly!”

With our combined efforts, the three lime-trees retrieved all their leaves and looked as alive as if they were on a bright summer’s day. But something about it did not satisfy me… they looked alive, but in fact they were still falling asleep with the coming of winter. That became obvious to me as soon as I put a hand on them, and it bothered me.

“What is it?” asked Severus, looking at me as I frowned, leaning against a trunk.

“They need something more… if we charmed them to make them look more like they are described in the poem, better make them believe it is springtime…”

“Why not?” he added.

I took a few steps back and closed my eyes. The Goddess Mother heard my call and vibrated with all its power underneath me. I felt her rise inside of me like sap starts flowing in trees when winter fades away, making me feel more and more alive with each passing second. I took a long, deep breath and raised my arms, turning my palms towards the trees in front of me. A soft breeze came playing with my clothes, singing with the newly awakened leaves everywhere around us. When I opened my eyes, the place felt and looked much different. A golden light bathed all our surroundings, yet we were still clearly in the middle of the night. The moon was visible, up above the treetops, and its pearly light most delightfully complemented the magical one with its reflection completely trapped in the water nearby. I looked up; the lime-trees were in blossom and their delicate smell charmed my senses.

I turned to Severus, beaming. He leaned his shoulder against a tree, and legs and arms crossed, his wand came out of his hand from under one of his elbows. The left corner of his tightly closed lips was curled up in what looked like impatience; he clearly did not share my state of mind. Yet it might have been the golden light, or Cerridwen’s now so salient presence around us, but I did see something like a glimmer of softness in his eyes.

I did not have much time to look at it further, unfortunately. Two amber irises caught the light right behind him and glowed fiercely in the Forest’s darkness. I frowned and opened my mouth to warn Severus, but by the time I gasped for air, the beast had jumped forward and seized his wand between its powerful jaws.

“Accio wand!” called Severus immediately, holding out his hand to retrieve his property.

Unfortunately, the beast merely lowered itself into a defensive position and growled menacingly. It was a wolf, a male from his sturdy constitution. I kept frowning, looking at him still in front of Severus, but not making any aggressive movements. That wolf did not feel right; he was not acting out of his own bestial will, obviously. Someone else was controlling him. Indeed, the wolf most unnaturally turned his head and looked at me. Then he ran away unexpectedly, towards the deeper part of the forest. Severus looked at me, as surprised as I was, but obviously torn between his desire to run after him and his desire to stay at my side. I quickly put an end to his silent debate.

“Go,” I said, with a smile. “Follow him and retrieve what is yours; he is already well ahead of you.”

“I will be back in no time,” he promised, before disappearing into the darkness after him.

I giggled. The reason for that beast’s strange behaviour was becoming clear. Sure enough, seconds after Severus was gone, the wind started singing in the lime-trees again. This time, I could distinguish a familiar voice, whispering among the leaves.

“Antanasia… come to the water,” said the voice.

I obediently walked to the spring and kneeled next to the stream. One of my hands quickly met the cold and pure water, which became as smooth as the surface of a mirror. Within minutes, Valerica’s beautiful face appeared in it and her jade-coloured eyes looked at me with warmth and benevolence.

“Valerica, my dear friend!” I exclaimed, with a voice that vibrated with joy.

“Good evening, Antanasia,” she replied, her voice echoing from the water to the trees surrounding me. “I hope you do not mind the way I took the wizard away from you.”

“I figured you wanted to speak to me alone.”

“Exactly. There are matters we have to discuss that do not concern him. But I do not have much time, Antanasia. My castle has been watched for months; we might be interrupted… and I will not be able to go into much detail; I might be spied on.”

“Please, tell me everything you can!”

“The Clans of Zaharia and Russia are in the middle of a crisis, Antanasia.”

“What kind of a crisis?” I asked, worrisomely.

“The visions the Great Dragon gave you… they might have been addressed to the Clans.”

“The phoenix and the snake fighting?”

“Precisely. The fight has begun among us, now. I, myself, had an interesting vision from the Great Dragon after you left Zaharia. Look above your head, my child.”

I looked up. The moon was about to go through a total eclipse. The sun hid its peaceful light at a fast pace, and then stopped moving once it hid it completely from view.

“Light is fighting against the darkness, as we speak,” she continued. “Horatiu told me, when I consulted the Dragon, that he asked you to plant a seed. That seed is definitely growing.”

“But how did I plant that seed?”

“I would be risking too much if I told you right now…” she murmured, smiling at me, as the breeze running in the trees reached me and sent long shivers over my skin.

“What can you tell me, then?”

“That in an eclipse, a moment of darkness is needed before light can be seen again.”

“How can I help?” I asked.

“That eclipse is unknown to the Wizarding world… and will remain so until the cycle is complete. We will see to that. The information that reaches them is now completely up to you.”

“I understand. How long will the eclipse take to be complete?”

“Even the wisest cannot tell and the Dragon remains silent about it. It could take months… or even years,” she said, plunging my heart into cold despair and loneliness.

“I see…”

“Do not let your heart weep for the distance between us, Antanasia. Nothing lasts forever in this imperfect and changing world, you know that.”

“I do…” I replied, leaning on my side and reaching my hand to her face in the water.

“That brings me to the other parts of your vision; namely its beginning and end.”

“What about them?”

“I see that there is another lycanthropic in your life right now.”

“Yes,” I admitted, blushing lightly.

“Are you sure you should let him come that close to your soul? The lycanthropic in your vision vanishes at some point… and you are giving that one more and more place in your heart.”

“Valerica, in my vision the lycanthropic gave me a lily… would not that be the sign that my grievance will come to an end through him?”

“Through him, Antanasia… not with him. The lycanthropic offered it to you and left. Remember the rest....”

“A snake came out of a bush and curled up on it,” I murmured.

“And the end?” she prompted.

“An eagle plunged downwards from the sky and finally retrieved it….”

“What, or who that lily represents is quite clear to me, Antanasia… can you not see it, too?”

“Plunging down from the sky and retrieving it is one thing... the vision says nothing about what comes next…” I sadly replied, after a brief silence.

“That is for you to find out, my love. Not all things can be known in advance!” she replied, in an encouraging tone. “Have you thought about what I told you, last time you came to Poland?”

“Of course… but I did open the door and look at what was behind it! ”

“Did you open the right one?”

“How can I know, Valerica?”

“Patience, my child, patience… time will tell; just keep your senses receptive to its message and do not get lost going through too many doors. In the meantime, let the lycanthropic play his role, for he has one to play indeed.”

“I will, Valerica,” I said, feeling even more confused than before.

“I have to go now. My forces are leaving me. There is one more thing that I have to tell you, however, and it is most painful. One of those you loved has passed into another world.”

“Who?” I asked, struck with horror.

“Our kind has lost a great artist, and a beautiful soul. Catalina was killed in the last confrontation,” she whispered sadly.

“Catalina! This cannot be!” I exclaimed, plunging both of my hands in the icy water, trying to grasp something that would support me.

“I am afraid it can, my love. It happened three nights ago, in Zaharia.”

“Are the confrontations that violent?” I asked, in a strangled voice.

“They are. And I fear that the state of things will make communication very difficult for the next months.”

“I will come back to Transylvania!” I cried, rising to my feet with fear creeping into my heart.

“You are more useful to us in England, both at the phoenix and at the snake’s sides, than here in chaos. You still cannot call Zaharia your home, nor unfortunately can you do so with my Clan. But have faith in your people, Antanasia. I have faith that we shall meet again.”

“And Ivantie?” I asked feverishly, trying to keep her with me a little longer. “How is he?”

“Ivantie has his own fate to meet. And he will,” she said, her voice fading away.

“What fate, Valerica? What fate?” I cried, addressing the wind that started to blow around me.

But Valerica could not answer. The link was broken, I felt it perfectly well. I ran to the nearest lime-tree and felt her presence vanish from within its trunk. The flowers remained, however, as if the trees were still trapped in a forced spring for a little longer. Long enough to let me pay Catalina a last tribute. I heard a loud crack nearby. Severus arrived a second later and emerged, panting, from between the trees. A few branches had left thin scratches on his forehead and cheeks; the wolf had kept him running for a while. When he saw the expression on my face, he understood at once that the contact had been made.

“What happened?” he asked, still catching his breath.

“Much, Severus. I will tell you all about it, but for now…” I started, but my voice broke.

“Yes?” he insisted, not too roughly.

“For now, I will need your help. I need to reach these lower branches here and I do not feel well enough to Transfigure at the moment. The contact took most of my magical energies. Do you have a knife of some kind with you?”

“Yes, give me a second,” he mumbled, putting his wand back in the inner pocket of his robes and retrieving a small knife with a retractable blade from it. “There, will that do? It is small, but very sharp.”

“Thank you,” I replied, trying not to break down in tears. “Would you lift me up, please?”

Contrary to what I expected, Severus did not take his wand out again. Without saying a word, he took my hand, made me sit on his right shoulder and lifted me up, leaning against the trunk. I chose the most heavily blossomed branches and cut them off from the tree. Still respecting my silence, Severus put me gently back on the ground and straightened up. Keeping his hand in mine, I led him to the dead trunk and made him sit next to me.

“Valerica contacted me while you were gone, Severus. We were able to talk for quite a while, and I got information that will greatly interest the Order. But before we talk about it, there is something else that I learned… that you might wish to know, as it concerns you personally. Someone from the Clan passed away three nights ago. It was Catalina… I am sorry…”

“It is I who should be sorry, Antanasia… she was your friend,” he murmured.

“And your lover,” I whispered, starting to braid the branches into a wreath, giving myself a reason to look elsewhere other than into his penetrating eyes.

“Only for a brief moment, Antanasia,” he protested.

“You know, Horatiu used to say that if a single moment can feel like an eternity, that is probably because eternity can indeed be found in a single moment,” I replied, failing to make the irony pierce through the sadness in my voice.

“You may believe what you want, then,” he grumbled, stirring on his seat.

I braided the wreath in silence, and he refrained from asking me more questions about my conversation with Valerica. Once I finished my work, I rose to my feet and walked to the fire. He followed me and stood by my side.

“Do you wish to pay her a last tribute, too?” I asked, fixing the fire.

“At least for all those hours she spent making my life less miserable,” he mumbled. “Mostly by playing all that music under my windows,” he added, feeling my posture stiffening considerably.

“Do as I do, then,” I explained, in the softest tone I could find. “And while you do it, think of the things you would like to tell her, whether they are memories, thoughts, wishes… that is for you to decide.”

I raised my arms, and after a salute to the moon, I put the wreath on my head. I took his knife and made a cut in my palm before closing my hand on it. Severus did the same thing next to me, still not wincing in pain. I turned my palm down and threw my blood in the fire, in one sharp move. Severus’ blood soon joined mine and the fire turned to a bright red.

“That makes our presence known to her soul,” I explained.

I took his wounded hand in mine and blew gently on it. The cut closed itself at once, putting an end to the bleeding. I then closed my eyes and thought of the things I wanted to tell her. I remembered our animated conversations in her rehearsal rooms, and the countless concerts I had heard. Tears soon started to roll down my cheeks, but given the peaceful and happy content of my thoughts, they did not disturb me. When I opened my eyes, Severus was simply fixing the fire. I turned to him and took his face in my hand.

“Keep thinking,” I whispered, bringing his face to mine.

Our foreheads met and stayed joined for a few minutes. I felt long and regular breaths coming out of his nose and brushing against my lips, warming them despite the chill of the night, but I broke our embrace before I let it elicit more intimate shivers inside of me. Turning back to the fire, I took the wreath in both of my hands and placed it to my lips. The fresh and velvety touch of the flowers’ petals forced a few sobs out of my mouth.

“Goodbye, my friend… may we meet again in this afterlife or the next,” I announced, before dropping the wreath into the fire.

The flames rose meters high towards the sky and, slowly, as the crown was completely consumed, the magical golden light seemed sucked into the fire, plunging us more and more into the darkness of the night. Once the fire retrieved its original form, Severus extended a hand over it, until it turned into cold ashes. Behind us, the lime-trees lost all their flowers and leaves; all that remained was the peaceful caress of the moonlight, which had grown quite lower in intensity as morning drew closer. Without saying a word, Severus led me outside the Forbidden Forest.

“You are speaking nonsense, Antanasia! How can you go back to London without your Apparating or Transfiguration skills?” he said, after I suggested that it was better for me to go home. “And I do need to inform Dumbledore about what happened tonight.”

“Oh, you are right,” I replied, remembering the other parts of Valerica’s message. “What do you suggest?”

“Come with me,” he retorted.

I followed him to the front doors of Hogwarts, which he opened with a few taps of his wand. It was around four in the morning, so we did not meet a soul in the corridors. Severus led me down a few flights of stairs to the dungeons. We passed a few doors along a dark and creepy corridor until he stopped in front of one of them and unlocked it with various spells and counter-jinxes. He quickly made me go in, looking suspiciously around to make sure nobody saw us.

“This is my office,” he simply said. “Please sit down,” he added, before lighting up another fire in the fireplace, which became our only source of light.

I sat in the only armchair that was there before I realized that it was most probably his. His eyes glittered dangerously for a moment, but then he simply conjured a second chair in front of me. I told him about Valerica’s words and their meaning, obviously omitting the matters that were private. Still thinking about the news of Catalina’s death and the ritual we had performed in her honour, my voice remained strangled with emotions. Severus assured me he would let Dumbledore know about it in the morning, and then we were soon forced back into a heavy silence once again, which was only disrupted by the crackling sounds of the fire and the discreet swish of my hand against my cheeks, when I wiped a couple of furtive tears from time to time.

Seeing that his opportunity for sleep was dangerously getting much too small, and feeling strong enough to attempt Apparating back into London, I meant to say good night and leave, but something in his face made me keep my mouth shut. His eyebrows had shot into the air, and then lowered when his mouth melted into a thoughtful frown. After a minute of what was apparently an inner debate, he unexpectedly rose to his feet and left the room through a discreet door.

He came back minutes later with something in his hands. It was a dark piece of fabric, with ancient runes embroidered all over it in various shades of blue and green.

“It is a shawl… it belonged to my mother,” he said, caressing the fabric with his thumbs. “She had a few of them, but this one held a special meaning for her because she used it to keep me warm, when I was a newborn.”

I watched him, puzzled, wondering why he was suddenly showing me something that belonged to his mother. My puzzlement turned to astonishment when he walked towards me, unfolding the large triangle of fabric before my eyes.

“She also cherished this particular shawl because she believed that it had the power to bring a little soothing and happiness to those who wore it,” he continued, wrapping the shawl around my shoulders. “I have always found that belief relatively foolish, to be honest. It stayed in the bottom of an old trunk containing a few of her robes and things… but as I am very unlikely to use it for myself, anyway… I thought you might as well have it.”

I was at a loss for words. What he was saying was true… I could feel the imprints of the things he described, very vague but present. Dear Severus! A hug and a friendly hand on my shoulder would have sufficed, but that was probably a bit too… human and simple, for him.

“Thank you… it is beautiful…” I said, in the same strangled voice, rising to my feet to hold him in my arms.

“I will advise Dumbledore to plan a meeting for tonight, at the Headquarters,” he said, making me stay where I was with his arms awkwardly down against his sides.

“I think it is a good idea,” I replied.

“Prepare yourself for another visit to the Dark Lord, then. We should not waste time if we do not want to lose his interest.”

“I agree.”

“Do you think you will be able to Apparate back to London by now?”

“Yes, I feel strong enough. Thank you for staying there with me tonight, Severus.”

“You are welcome, Antanasia,” he said, retrieving my cloak on the desk and handing it to me.

“I will see you tonight, then…” I added, walking through the door he opened for me.

“You will.”

I remained lost in many contradictory thoughts, all the way back to the Headquarters. Poor Remus was deeply asleep in his armchair when I arrived. He obviously had to give in to the after effects of his sleep deprivation of the full moon night added to the sedative effects of my potion. I levitated him to his bed, as usual, and scribbled a message on a piece of parchment that I left on the kitchen table so he would know I was back and well. When I closed the lid of my coffin for a much needed and longed for sleep and curled up in Mrs Snape’s shawl, I hoped that its powers, whether magical or imaginary, would bring peacefulness into my troubled and exhausted mind.

~*~

AUTHOR’S NOTE
Exceptionally, as I had to much to say in this chapter, there will be a part 3, which is being written right now. Just be patient; your encouragement is always precious!

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 (over 40, this week) represents a lot of work; your comments are a valuable reward! :o)