Maybe
Chapter 7
By Anne B. Walsh
Chapter 7
The room was a shambles. Freestanding bookshelves had been knocked over, books lay in piles on the floor, and all the chairs had been overturned. Four or five adults were milling around the room, staring at the mess in dismay. One woman was trying to calm the screaming girl, who was pointing at one of the wall-mounted bookshelves.
"Her!" the girl shrilled. "She did it! She made this happen!"
Remus followed the girl’s point with his eyes and felt a surge of elation. Crouching on the top of the bookshelf, almost too far back to be seen, was a small person with a great deal of brown bushy hair.
Neenie!
But even as Danger’s joyous thought came to them both, the girl on the bookshelf advanced slightly, and her face came into the light.
Oh my God.
No. That can’t be her.
Remus didn’t reply, focusing his mind instead on remaining where he was, on not rushing forward to comfort his Kitten. It wasn’t easy. Hermione seemed torn between cowering in fear and leaping down to attack. When she noticed him watching her, her lips peeled back from her teeth, and she hissed deep in her throat, as a cat might, before retreating back to her dark corner.
"Jane," said one of the other women in the room, moving toward the bookshelf. "Jane, won’t you please come down? This must have been an accident, no one blames you — come on, you can come down—"
The figure on top of the bookshelf seemed to shrink into itself more.
Impulsively, Remus stepped into the room. "Let me try, ma’am?" he asked. "I’ve had some experience with things like this."
"You certainly can’t hurt," said the woman with a weary sigh, stepping back. "Best of luck."
Remus found a spot where he could stand to see Hermione without having to crane his neck too much. "Hello up there," he said politely. "Would you like to come down?"
Hermione took a small scoot forward, bringing herself into the light. She looked down for a moment, then shook her head no.
"All right. If you’d rather stay up there, I understand. You feel safe up there. I imagine you feel like a cat up in a tree — you’re safe and you can see everything."
A pause, then a nod.
"But you’re a very little cat still. More like a kitten, really."
Another pause, this one longer. Then Hermione gave a very slow nod.
"I won’t hurt you, little kitten." Remus put as much persuasion as he could manage into the words. "I only want to talk. I’ll stay over here, if you like." He took three large steps away from her bookshelf. "But talking to you up there is putting a crick in my neck. It would really help me if you’d come down."
A long moment. Everyone in the room seemed to be holding his or her breath. Even the crying girl had stopped sobbing and was watching. Then two small feet appeared over the edge of the bookshelf, feeling for the next shelf down, and everyone relaxed.
"Thank you, sir, so much," said the woman he’d spoken to as she watched Hermione climb down, using only one arm, the other being tucked around what Remus recognized belatedly as her stuffed lion. "You’re a miracle worker — it usually takes us half an hour or more to get Jane down when she climbs something."
"Oh, this has happened before?"
"Never like this, with everything knocked over. But when she’s upset or frightened, she’ll often climb up things — wardrobes, bookshelves, trees — and stay up there until she feels safe enough to come down."
Remus smiled sadly. Just in case we were wondering if this is really Hermione or not.
Yes — I have a bit of a problem here. I tried getting across the boundary here, but the wards physically won’t let me pass. Ideas?
Can it wait?
Of course.
Hermione’s feet touched the floor.
"Thank you, that’s excellent, I’ll take it from here," said the man Remus had followed into the room, striding forward.
Look out! Danger shouted, but an instant too late — ropes were already flying from the wand in the man’s hand, and Remus hit the floor hard, bound and gagged.
He swore, struggling against the bonds. I should have known, I should have known it was too good to be true — just finding her this way —
Settle down, Danger snapped. As soon as he’s not looking, burn them off.
Oh. Remus felt extremely stupid. True — what’s the point of fire power if you don’t use it?
"Oblivians Condicionis!" intoned the wizard, as he must be, sweeping his wand in an arc around the room.
Oblivians what?
It’s a variation on the Memory Charm, usually considered fairly Dark — I think it forces you to accept whatever you’re told directly afterwards, for up to an hour —
Is it possible this is what was used on the cubs? Danger asked, her voice, which had been sharp, growing frighteningly soft. To convince them that they don’t know who they are, or where they come from?
It might.
"You will leave this room immediately and not return for three hours," the man was saying quietly to his audience, who were gazing at him raptly. He had pulled Hermione aside and was very carefully not looking at her. "You will keep everyone else out of this room for that period of time. You will not notice any unusual noises coming from this room for that period of time. Vergo Adfecti." His wand swept across everyone except Hermione.
"Come on, Carolyn, let’s get you to the nurse," said one of the women to the girl, and a buzz of other voices sprang up as the women and the other girl filed out of the room, all of them completely ignoring Remus, Hermione, and the other wizard.
"Now, then," said the wizard in a very self-satisfied voice, turning to Remus. "Hello, werewolf. Come to see how we’re civilizing your precious cub, eh? I recognized you as soon as you stepped in the room, but I thought I should let you get her down for me first. Thank you for that."
Remus glared at the man.
"Vicious little thing. Your influence, of course. I think I’d better get her under control before I arrest you for being closer to her than you’re allowed by law. Reinforcement first." The man leaned close to Hermione. "Your name is Jane White. You’re an orphan. You have no family. No one loves you. You cannot speak. Do you understand?"
Hermione opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again and nodded docilely. Red-hot anger rose in Remus — he felt its counterpart in Danger, and had a flash of inspiration. Use it, he commanded her.
What?
Your anger. The fire. Use it. Pass the wards with it. Do it now.
What? I can’t do that!
Not while I’m looking straight at the man who stole your baby sister and caged her in solitude and silence?
All right, I think that did it. He felt her power building, building, coming to a peak — No, it’s not quite enough yet, she sent, sounding not only angry but frustrated. I can still feel resistance.
"Now for the new part," said the wizard, and Remus turned his attention back to the man. "You have nothing special that you care about. This toy means nothing to you." He plucked the lion out of her arms. "It was wrong of you to fight for it. You will let me take it away, and you will never show anger like that again. If you feel it, you will keep it hidden. Do you understand?"
Hermione gave a small, defeated nod.
Remus growled silently, feeling anger pulse through his blood at the sight of this madman turning his Kitten’s brilliant mind against itself. Danger snarled in pure rage, and Remus felt her shock, quickly replaced by glee, as she was suddenly surrounded by flame, like a fire goddess of old. She took one step forward, then another, and the wards around the Notts’ estate fell away from her, allowing her access to their grounds. She touched off fires in the bushes as she moved.
Good, said Remus, a growl of appreciation for his strong mate. Now my turn.
He summoned fire and sent it to two very specific places.
One, of course, was the ropes binding him — he sighed with relief as he felt them drop away from him, and flexed his fingers in preparation.
The other —
"And now to make those changes permanent," the other wizard was saying. He raised his wand hand. "Vergo—"
The sleeve fell off his coat. A second later, the coat itself followed, along with every other stitch of clothing the man was wearing except his shoes. He gaped down at himself for a moment.
The moment was enough. Remus lunged for his wand and made it. "Expelliarmus!"
The wand flew from the other wizard’s hand. Remus tied him up quickly, adding a gag for good measure.
The other place he had sent the fire was to the threads holding the man’s clothing together.
Hermione was still standing where she had been, staring into the distance.
"How can I reverse what you did to her?" Remus demanded, Vanishing the man’s gag.
"Why should I tell you that?"
Remus twirled the man’s wand between two fingers. "Wands are amazing things," he said idly. "So powerful, yet so delicate. So easy to break."
The man scowled at him. "Go ahead. See if I care. I can always get a new one."
"Bones break very easily as well."
"I thought you were supposed to be all nice and civilized," the man sneered. "A tame werewolf."
"Any animal defends its cubs," said Remus blandly. "Are you going to tell me or not?"
"Not."
"Very well." Remus stepped closer to the man, wondering in the back of his mind how far he was actually willing to take this —
When something struck him.
"On second thought, never mind. I don’t need you."
"You don’t?"
"No. I don’t." Remus aimed his wand at the man. "Silencio." He turned to Hermione, wondering if this could possibly work.
The others obeyed the commands he gave them while they were in this trance state. So maybe, just maybe...
"Answer my questions," he commanded. "Aloud. Can you hear me?"
"Yes." It was Hermione’s voice, but sounding very distant and dreamy.
"What is your real name?"
"Hermione Jane Granger."
Relief spread over Remus in an all-encompassing wave. She knows. She remembers. She can remember.
Now I just have to figure out how to word this...
He wished he could command her to forget the past three months, to be again the innocent child she had been before all of this happened.
But that would make me no better than him. She deserves her own memories. All of her own memories.
"Hermione, are you listening to me?"
"Yes."
"Will you do as I say?"
"Yes."
"Then — remember the truth. Remember who you are and where you belong. Remember who loves you. Remember the truth." He pointed his wand at her, praying this would work. "Vergo Adfecti."
Hermione’s eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. Remus jumped forward to catch her and laid her gently on the floor, feeling a shiver of worry.
Relax, advised a voice. Those were some heavy-duty orders you gave her. Her mind needs time to recover.
Where have you been?
Fighting off defensive spells, thank you very much. The Notts have this place tricked up like you wouldn’t believe — but I’m in. And I’m all in. I’m going to find a room and take a nap.
Be careful. Please.
Don’t be such a worrywart — I’ve got the Invisibility Cloak and I can burn anything that tries to touch me. What could possibly go wrong?
Do you really want me to answer that?
No. Just deal with that bastard you’ve got there. Her anger flared up again. Hexing him into the next century, and to the next galaxy, would be nice. But I’ll leave that one to you. Granger-Lupin out.
Remus nodded and turned back to the wizard, who was staring at him with an expression composed half of astonishment, half of rage. He lifted the Silencer. "Something you want to say?" he inquired politely.
"You’ll never get away with this. You’re in violation of so many laws — so many statutes — we’ll find you. You can’t hide forever. You won’t get away with this."
"I see. By the way, what’s your name?"
The wizard scowled at him. "None of your business."
"All right. If you insist." Remus put away his own wand and picked up the other wizard’s, examining it. "I wonder," he murmured as if to himself. "I wonder."
"You wonder what?"
"There’s a certain incantation that one can use to preface most common spells. It makes the spell specific to the wand that cast it, so that only that wand can be used to alter or reverse the spell. Have you heard of it?"
"No."
"Specificatum Rudis," said Remus, still stroking the wand. "You use it like this."
Abruptly, he pointed the wand at its owner. "Specificatum Rudis Silencio!"
The other man stared at him, his mouth working furiously, but unproductively.
"Of course," Remus went on nonchalantly, "it’s a rather risky spell to use. If, say, the wand that cast it gets... damaged..."
The snap was clearly audible.
Remus knelt beside the furious wizard, feeling a fierce satisfaction at the expression which replaced anger on the other’s face.
Let’s see. I’m a werewolf, I have power over fire, and I have a working wand available to me. You are naked, tied up, unable to speak, and you hurt my cub.
Yes, I’d say you should be very, very afraid right now.
"There is a word for what I have just done to you," he said quietly. "It’s called justice. You stole my Kitten’s voice from her, so I took yours from you. But you also stole her memories. And I don’t want to steal your memories. I want you to remember everything that’s happened here today. So I have another idea."
He placed the splintered edge of the broken wand against one of the just-scabbing cuts on the wizard’s arm and dug it in hard. The wizard flinched as fresh blood broke through the scab.
"What I did to you before was justice," Remus repeated. "But this — this is something else." He smiled again, allowing all the frustration and anger and even hatred he had repressed for three months to come to the surface in that one smile. "This is called revenge."
He spat onto the wizard’s arm.
Directly into the open cut.
"See a Healer whenever you get yourself free," he advised, standing up. "And start stocking up on pain relievers for the full moon. You’re going to need them."
He savored the horror on the other wizard’s face for one second before turning away, lifting Hermione in his arms, and walking out of the room, leaving the other man for anyone who found him.
And since he cast that spell to keep everyone away from here for three hours...
Hermione was light in his arms. Too light. She hasn’t been eating properly. But we can fix that.
They could fix everything. Not perfectly — their lives would never be the same again — but if he could judge by his own reaction, being together again would make all that had passed seem unimportant. Seeing Hermione’s face, even so pale and still as it was, made him feel more human than he had in a long time.
I wonder if she has anything here she’d miss —
He wanted to hit himself, but his arms were full of girl. Of course — her lion.
Rather than go back to the library, he set Hermione down on her feet, holding her against him with one arm, and pulled out his wand with the other. "Accio Lion," he said, and a moment later, he caught the stuffed toy as it hurtled toward him and tucked it into a pocket.
Suddenly he felt the girl stiffen against him. Quickly, he dropped to one knee, steadying her with both hands. Oh God, please let her be all right... please...
Hermione blinked at him, orienting on his face. Her lips parted, then closed.
"Mmm... Moony?"
It was the quietest of sounds, high-pitched and wistful, the voice of a little girl hardly daring to hope — but to Remus, it was accompanied by trumpets and choirs of angels singing.
"Yes, Kitten," he whispered, crushing her into a hug. "It’s me. I’m here."
"Will you take me home?"
"That’s — that’s the only reason I came."
What was the matter with his voice, Remus wondered — why did it sound broken up? And what was happening to his eyes? Why couldn’t he see properly?
The shoulder of Hermione’s blouse developed a dark spot. Then another.
Oh.
"Come on, Kitten," he said, swallowing hard and reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief. "Let’s get going. We have a train to catch."
xXxXx
"There you are," panted Theodore Nott, bursting into the library. "Come on, we have to get downstairs."
Draco closed the book he was reading, confused. "What?"
"There’s been a security breach. Invader in the house. Father thinks it might be Sirius Black or one of his friends. We’re supposed to go to the safe room and wait."
Draco shook his head, feeling a smile start. "No."
Theodore looked confused. "No?"
"No. I’m not going to. You go."
"Why?"
"I’m going to go find whoever it is."
Theodore’s mouth fell open. "You can’t! If it’s — him — he’ll kill you! Or kidnap you to torture you or something! I remember the stories—"
"What stories?"
"Father used to tell me stories about you. Stories about what happened to you. And they were always awful." Theodore looked — worried, Draco decided. "I don’t want them to come true."
Draco sat down on the arm of the chair. "Do you want to know what I would do if Sirius Black appeared in this room right now?" he asked conversationally.
Theodore stared at him, then nodded.
"I’d walk up to him. I’d look him in the eye. And I’d ask him..." Draco paused, enjoying the expression on Theodore’s face. "‘What took you so long?’"
Theodore backed slowly out of the room. "You’re out of your mind," he said shrilly. "You’re completely out of your mind."
"I know." Draco lolled on the chair, waiting until the running footsteps of the other boy receded.
Then he took off running himself, headed for his own bedroom.
If someone is here for me, I’ll need to be packed. We might have to leave fast.
He ran through his door and stopped short.
There was a distinct smell of smoke in the room.
And he had just heard a small gasp.
Instinctively, he got his back to the wall. "Is someone there?" he called out, scanning the room for places a person could hide.
"No," answered a woman’s voice. "No one at all."
Draco stifled a gasp of his own. He knew that voice.
One word escaped him. But one was all that was needed.
"Danger?"
A shimmer as of silvery fabric — and then she was there, standing beside his bed. Her arms were open, and no one could mistake the welcome — the love — in her face.
With a little yip like a fox kit greeting its dam, he shot across the room.
xXxXx
In the hallway, Theodore Nott listened intently.
"Rowdy as ever, little fox," said a woman’s voice with laughter in the tone, and there was a series of thumps. Theodore peered through the hinges on the door and saw something incredible.
Draco Malfoy — Draco Black — and a woman with bushy brown hair appeared to be fighting on the floor, trying to pin each other down. But their faces looked all wrong for fighting. They didn’t look angry. They looked... happy. And sad at the same time. The woman had tears in her eyes, at any rate. And she kept kissing him on the head...
The woman got Draco pinned on the floor with one hand and her legs and started tickling him under his arms with the other hand. He squirmed, laughing uncontrollably, and got a hand free to reach up and tug on a handful of her hair. She yelped and let him go, and he jumped up, ran around her, and leapt onto her back. "You smell like smoke," he said, clinging to her.
"I know. Do you want to see why?"
"Yeah."
She chuckled. "You have to get off me first."
Draco relinquished his hold, and the woman adjusted her position so that she was sitting with her back against the bed, her feet out at angles in front of her. Draco sat down between her legs, letting his head rest against her chest, and she held him close with one arm. "Watch," she said, holding out the other hand.
Draco and Theodore both stared as flames appeared in that hand, played around it, leapt into the air above it, then vanished. "Wow," said Draco in amazement. Theodore silently agreed.
"That’s how I got in — but I’m going to hope getting out will be easier. Are you ready to leave?"
"Five minutes."
"Make it three."
"Yes ma’am."
"That’s my boy."
Draco pulled a duffel bag from under his bed and began stuffing things into it. Theodore watched as the other boy added the stuffed lion that sat on his bed, the musical instrument he played sometimes, a clean shirt and socks, then disappeared into the bathroom.
What do I do now?
Draco came back out into the bedroom, zipped the bag shut, and slung it over his shoulder. "I’m ready."
"Two minutes. Very good." The woman nodded approvingly. "All right, we’re going out invisible. But the Cloak doesn’t block sound or touch, so we still have to be careful." She picked up a silvery pile of material, which must be an Invisibility Cloak, Theodore realized. "Stay close to me, and if you see something you think I don’t, point it out to me — quietly. And don’t be afraid of the fire — I’ve told it not to burn me or you or anything of ours. So we can walk right through it without getting hurt. Clear?"
"Clear. Where are we going?"
"Train station. We’ll walk part of the way, and I’ll Apparate us the rest — we have a connection to make."
"All right."
"Here we go, then." The woman pulled the Cloak over them both, and they vanished. Theodore dodged quickly into one of the other rooms along the hall and listened for the sounds of footsteps passing his door.
Once they were gone, he took off running again, in the opposite direction from the one they had taken.
"I’m sorry, Father," he practiced in his mind as he ran. "I couldn’t find Draco anywhere. I looked all over — in the library, in the study, in his room..."