开云体育

Tel’ Lindar 38/45

Chapter 38 - The Artist behind the Iron Mask or The Swamp Creature from the Murky Lagoon

Tel’ Lindar 38/?

The Artist behind the Iron Mask or The Swamp Creature from the Murky Lagoon

~*~

?

Bronwyn stood in a window, watching the snow fall, Amadeus at her feet. As the day drew to a close, she regretted her harsh words spoken to Lucius Malfoy.

Perhaps, regret was a strong word. She truly didn't regret them, as much as she wished she simply hadn't said them.

Aloud.

Granted, she realized he considered himself above her and she considered him of little account. In a sense, she had dismissed him, brushed him off rather abruptly.

It was not her best moment.

She sighed.

Her wolf sighed as well. Far in the distance, they could see the faint outlines of the carriages bringing their charges back to the safe walls of Hogwarts.

A third sigh rent the air. Bronwyn's head jerked, looking for the source, to find Crabbe standing at the next window, staring dolefully out of the pane.

"Excited to see your friends?"

Heavy brows drew together. "No friends of mine," he mumbled. He glanced sideways, watery blue eyes wary, before returning to gaze through the frosted pane. "No friends of mine," he repeated, "not for a while."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Not yer fault." He became quiet, his face screwing up in a knot, contemplating a deep, painful thought. "Uhm... thank you."

Bronwyn's stomach leapt. "For what?"

There was a quick half-smile on the teen's face. It was there for a moment before disappearing back into the grim visage. "For the Christmas Gift. The art stuff."

The package had arrived during Christmas breakfast. The few students remaining had had gifts piled in front of them, bright and colorful wrapping pulled and shredded all over of the tables.

Crabbe's table had been painfully and obviously bare. He hadn't looked up, not one whit of envy on his stoic face, as he seriously contemplated the perfection of his Christmas sausage. So engrossed in his food, pushing it from one side of his plate, to the other, he didn't realize a large grey owl had landed in front of him, package in his beak. It had been his young classmates, the twins, who finally jolted him from his doldrums, forcing him to look up and take the package from the owl.

Gingerly, he removed the plain, snow-kissed wrapping, revealing glorious purple and golden paper. He reverently removed the gilded wrap, taking much care not to tear the delicate foil. In what seemed forever, every breath halted, every eye resting on the teen, he removed the large art kit.

Heavy paper, pencils, charcoal.

Water, oil paints, brushes...

There had been no ending to the supplies in the box. Vincent removed each one, spreading them out, inspecting them. After long minutes, he solemnly replaced each piece, carefully folding the wrapping and tucking it in the top. He then stood and clasping the box to his chest, left the hall.

During the following days, he was seen by few. When he was seen, he was sitting in the floor, tucked in a corner, drawing everything in sight. On more than one occasion, Rumil was seen sitting with him, pointing out line and scope, teaching in his own fashion. It was noted that the teen was going through his sketchpad paper at an alarming rate; as a result, a number of replacement pads were quietly ordered by different professors. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Crabbe appeared relaxed, happy and not at war with his surroundings.

And now the war was returning to him.

"What makes you think it was me?" Bronwyn smirked. The carriages were now more than a faint outline, their form more distinct and precise.

A scowl that passed for a smile graced the teen's face as he brushed past her. "I'm dumb, ma'am, not stupid. By the way," he stopped and looked over his shoulder, "I've a problem. Maybe you can help."

"What's that, Vincent?"

He paused a moment as if to contemplate his words. "Nothing... nothing is safe, in the Slytherin rooms. Trunks, hiding places... Draco knows them all." His eyes skimmed the floor, embarrassment written all over his face.

"Bring them to my classroom, quickly. Leave them in the chair behind my desk." The teen visibly relaxed, yet still... "Also, you are woefully behind on your studies. I believe Monday and Thursdays after dinner in my classroom for an hour or two should... help."

Relief flooded his features. "Thank you, ma'am." He turned to head down the hall.

"Hurry, Crabbe. They will be here in a few minutes." As difficult as it was to imagine, the hulking adolescent sped up, disappearing in a matter of moments.

"You are an old softie." The voice whispered in her left ear and as she turned in that direction, Remus playfully moved to her right. "But it was a sweet and generous gesture. He'll remember it all of his life." He now stood next to her, his eyes also on the approaching carriages through the frost covered glass. He didn't notice she was absently fingering the rings hanging from the chain around her neck.

"Everyone should have special memories of the hols." Unconsciously, her free hand reached for the furry head she knew would be there, the wolf arching into the cup of her palm. "Besides, we all knew he would receive nothing from home." Bronwyn's mind reached back, back to the years where her own tree was filled, filled with gifts from parents who only wished to fill her time, keep her occupied and away from them. There was no thought put in them, simply ordered in mass from a catalogue. Her most cherished gifts were given to her in private, from her Nana...

"Ha-penny for your thoughts?"

"Ah, Remus." she sighed, "they aren't worth half of that." She continued to rub the head of the wolf. While the canine's eyes were closed in seeming contentment, Remus could sense the unrest and tension in Amadeus’ muscles. There was much wrong and either Bronwyn wasn't admitting it or she wasn't aware of it.

"I'll listen anyway."

She turned and while not looking at the Professor, she focused over his shoulder, the words measured and forceful. "I am not at peace; my spirit is restless." Finally, she raised her eyes. "The nightmares returned with a vengeance the night after my family left." Remus' breath snagged inward. "My demon child becomes more and more powerful with each passing day and my only relief from the bastard is either when Elves are in residence or I sleep with Severus!"

Amadeus flinched.

"I am afraid," she continued, unaware of the wolf's emotional pain, "that the time will come and come sooner than I care to wish, that he will be able to breach whatever protection I have. My time runs out."

***

It didn't take long for the students and Bronwyn to stifle; the enclosed air suffocating her very pores. Despite the noisiness of her students, she found herself missing her family.

*As expected! They're so much like elflings-*

She bit off the reckless thought. Some places were better left unvisited and some thoughts were better off uncompleted.

Celeborn and Gandalf's unexpected visit unnerved her more than she cared to admit, especially so soon after the extended visit with her family and Glorfindel. It was obvious both were concerned about the lack of progress in locating her bow. In an unusual turn of events, Bronwyn had been content to allow Severus to field the Elf Lord and Istari’s queries.

She feigned lesson planning, busy work, house – cleaning, (Severus' eyebrows were as raised as Celeborn’s and Gandalf's at that proclamation) But deep down, they all knew Bronwyn was doing what she typically did when bothered, worried or upset.

*She was hiding*

She was.

She had reached the end of her rope; she paced, deep in thought, trying to come up and find a rock she hadn't looked under and by the end of the visit, she felt as if she had been pestered, much as a student felt they were being dogged by a teacher.

It disgusted her that she felt relief when they left, completely missing the concern in their eyes.

Had she seen it, she wouldn't have cared.

So she threw herself into her teaching, into her students. She took sadistic pleasure in forcing Draco Malfoy into giving his report assigned over the winter break, watching the teen almost break a sweat. She chided herself for her pettiness and childish cruelty and then berated herself for giving praise for his less than mediocre work.

In the weeks after the students return, the weather had been dreadful, the winds howling and blowing snow into every hidden driving casement of the castle. Bronwyn decided her pissy attitude was nothing more than cabin fever. Like her students, she yearned for clean air; after all, who could think in all this noise and mold and Snape hovering with his beak, possibly wanting to get LAID again and Dumbledore and McGonagall asking her over and over if she was 'well' and Lupin's knowing look....

Therefore, the afternoon the wind stopped, Bronwyn quietly bundled up in her winter coat and boots, leaving Amadeus curled asleep in front of their crackling fireplace. She checked the dungeon hall, smelling burning something or other and feeling Severus cursing in her bones. Smiling to herself, Bronwyn slipped out of a side door and braving the freezing temperatures, headed towards the lake.

As soon as she left the immediate grounds, a peace fell over her, one she hadn't felt in a long time and rather than revisit that which had nagged at her relentlessly for weeks, months, she completely relaxed, taking in the pristine beauty of the landscape.

She saw through an artist’s eye, the line, the curve of the surrounding protecting hills. Bronwyn stood at the edge of the frozen lake, simply taking in the scenery.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Bronwyn startled but she recovered quickly, recognizing the quiet voice. "Yes Harry. It's very beautiful."

There was a painful silence as she waited for him to continue. Slowly he stepped next to her.

"How come such beauty exists when there is such... ugliness?" He stopped but it was obvious he wasn't finished. The young Wizard's jaw worked in vexation as he arranged the words in his head.

“I mean, what's the point? How can there be..." he verbally stumbled before finally blurting, “ How can you handle so much loss and not fall?”

The last question was loud, spat, startling several birds, causing them to fly out of the tall reeds, and scattering powder across the ice of the lake. Bronwyn was at a loss. While the younger years had taken to her, the older ones, especially the seventh years, treated her as another body to 'get through.'

“Harry,” she faltered, “wouldn't you like to talk to-"

“NO!” More birds took to the air. For a moment the teen looked abashed at his own vehemence. "No," he repeated more in control. “I don't want to talk to Professor Dumbledore or Remus.... I want to talk to you. I don't understand, I don't get it, I thought you would -" It came out in a rush, before he stopped suddenly and face fell. "I thought you would know, you would understand." He ran his hands through his hair. "I’m sorry, Professor Powell. I shouldn't have followed you out." He stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned away.

Bronwyn didn't hesitate.

"Harry?" The teen stopped, his back stiff and still turned to her. "Come walk with me." She squelched the motherly desire to take him by the elbow, as an adult to a child, as he slowly turned and returned to her side. She gestured with a nod of her head and the two began to slowly meander around the edge of the lake, taking care to stay away from the frozen and dangerous mud.

"How can there be such beauty, when the world is weighted by such hate and violence?" She sensed rather than saw him nod his head. She noticed that his face was drawn, haggard, his eyes haunted and pitted in a pale gaunt face. "That's a question that man... and Elves... and obviously Wizards," Harry smiled tightly at that, "have asked for several millennia. Come to think of it,” she mused playfully, "Dwarves have asked it... Hobbits... ah Harry. So much beauty has been destroyed by time, by war and violence." She reached out her hand towards the woods.

"You see the Forbidden Woods. I see Mirkwood... the Great Greenwood." Slowly the tree line altered, changed, the winter sleeping trees suddenly turning green, growing to incredible heights. Trees that long were stooped, straightened, and stood proudly. This was a forest Treebeard and the Ents would have planted and nurtured... but deep in the dark places, things swung from spider vines. Malevolence moving and changing the forest back to its current state.

Harry's jaw worked.

"There is still beauty there, Harry. You just have to look for it. Turn around.” On the hill behind them, stood Hogwarts, centuries old, a fortress standing proud against the elements. Again it changed, time moving backwards. Harry gasped as it collapsed, covered with vines and wood and then clearing, reshaping into something similar, yet different.

"Dol Guldar. ” Bronwyn's voice was wistful yearning so deep...

"There was a dragon-" Harry began.

"There was a library." Bronwyn interrupted. "There was a library," she repeated in a whisper. As quickly as it was resurrected, it fell again overtaken by the wilds, before Hogwarts emerged from the forest.

“Pain from the loss of a loved one must be worked through. They deserve your grief. They deserve to have their memory preserved.” She paused letting the words sink in. "It hurts." A lump rose in her throat as she envisioned Haldir in the trees ahead of her, hanging from a tree branch, laughing at her, seeing him with Beckett, throwing rotten apples at Rumil. "It hurts so much and there is no escaping it. But eventually, the pain fades and there is so much happiness to remember." There was a pause. “With ugliness and pain, you appreciate the beauty and love and do not take it for granted.”

She patted Harry on the shoulder. "The Elves have a saying. 'Illuvatar gave us mountains so we would learn how to climb.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “Of course, the Dwarves couldn’t climb, so they dug.”

There was a burst of laughter from Harry. "Cho had a similar..." his voice caught. "Cho..."

"Focus on the good memories, Harry." He followed her like a lost puppy, the two picking their way through the snow and muck, moving further from Hogwart's protective shadow and closer to the wilds. "Focus on the good and happy. Tell me about your wonderful Cho."

Quietly, the young Wizard began to talk, his voice rising and falling in laughter, in admiration. Tears fell and were wiped away, angry, stinging... softly. They wandered further away.

They paid no heed to the building storm clouds.

They didn’t notice angry eyes from afar, hidden in the wilds. Nor did they did they hear the whispered spell; didn't notice the stirrings in the mud behind them.

~*~

These times are so uncertain, there's a yearning undefined
and people filled with rage.
We all need a little tenderness,
how can love survive in such a graceless age?

The Heart of the Matter
Don Henley

?

~*~

Amadeus stretched and yawned, his tongue lolling out between sharp teeth. He rolled over on his back expecting a familiar hand on his belly.

It didn't come.

He searched the quarters, her room, study.

There was nothing. No one, no clue to where she might be.

He narrowed blue eyes.

WIZARD!!!

The oddly accented voice roared through Severus' mind. He looked up from the now cold cauldrons, grading yet more failures. "I do not have time-"

WIZARD!!

Needing a break and wanting an argument, Severus slammed his correcting quill down on the table and stalked through his and her classrooms. Mumbling the password, he slung the door open. "Dog, I do not-"

He was nearly knocked down as a white blur barreled out of the apartment.

Where is she?

Severus straightened the cuffs of his coat. “How am I supposed to-

Reach out, you damned nem-raen! You can sense her!

Severus’ nose went up, realizing the constant presence in the back of his mind was not close. Ignoring the wolf’s howling, he slowly headed into her quarters, into the living area and to the glass room. His hand lightly grazed the furniture, the smaller instruments, lying around, as if to feel the hidden vibrations-

His head jerked up to the crystal ceiling. “She is out… past the lake…She is not alone. Perhaps Lupin-”

At the mention of his name, Remus sauntered into Bronwyn’s quarters, knocking loudly on the door jam. “Bronwyn? Since when did you leave the door open?” His eyes rested on Severus coming in from the sunroom and noticed the worry on his face. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, Merlin…”

~*~

“It was the most embarrassing moment of my life!” Harry was laughing. “There we were, on the steps of the owlry, the smell of birds all over and I couldn’t get three words out! I just knew she thought I was the stupidest Wizard at Hogwarts!” Both he and Bronwyn were now giggling at the fond, if uncomfortable memory. “Uhm… Professor Powell,” he sputtered through laughter, “you’re leaning against a tree.”

“础苍诲?”

“We’re kind of far from the castle. Maybe we need to head back.”

Bronwyn looked towards the sky. “And it is getting dark as well. Looks as if the snow is coming back. It’s probably close to dinner time.” Both teen and professor turned back towards the school and stopped in their tracks.

The path was blocked by a man-like figure; large, made of mud, raucous slime and weed dripping from limbs and head. His eyes were orange and he focused towards the twosome.

“翱丑…”

~*~

The wolf was cursing in some sing-song language in Severus’ head, making conversation and even thought impossible.

“Is something wrong?” Remus asked a second time.

“Bronwyn is out past the lake, by the Forbidden - Silence cur, I cannot function with that racket going on – Forest. We thought she was with yo-”

The temperature in the room, in Severus’ body dropped suddenly, the implication clear. “She is in danger-“ He ran through the door, her classroom and into the halls. Remus and Amadeus followed, Remus taking care to shut the door behind him.

Severus ran up the hallway and the winding stairs, his robes flying behind him, as if to make him look like a large, flying bat. Students moved out of his way, not wishing to anger the volatile professor. He came around a curve in time to see the Slytherin Quidditch team slowly making their way down to the Slytherin rooms.

“-losing your touch, old sod!”

Draco scowled, not seeing the Head of his House ready to cut a swatch through the group. “It’s damned impossible to see the snitch in this weather! Lucky we saw the break and were able to get to the field before-“

“Accio Malfoy’s broom!”

“-Hey!” Draco’s broom jerked from his grasp and into Snape’s hand. “What’s the-” he was knocked to the floor by a white whirlwind racing up the stairs. “HEY!” He grabbed his wand to hex the growling creature as it made his way up the stairs.”

He was stopped by a gentle, but firm hand. “I wouldn’t do that.” Lupin stared the teen down, Snape already up the stairwell and gone. Remus looked at Blakely, a particularly loathsome Slytherin Fourth Year. “I’ll borrow that.” He snatched the broom from the teen’s hand and ran up the stairs. Blakely reached for his wand. “I would hate to deduct points should anything befall anyone. Your Head of House would be displeased by your behavior.”

Both teens slowly resheathed their wands, matching eyes glowering up the stairwell.

~*~

“Harry?” The teen grunted in response. Bronwyn continued softly, “You know the grounds better than I. What alternative ways are there from this spot?”

“I… uhm…”

“Short-cuts? Paths? Anything, Harry.”

Harry’s eyes never left the deadly looking creature in front of him. “We can continue around the lake, but it’s really a long way. There is a path just on the outside of the woods that will eventually lead to Hagrid’s but there are a lot of… limbs and roots… or we can go wide and go around back the way we came and it’s close to the Whomping Willow.”

“Do you think it could be friendly?”

Harry shook his head. “Uhm… I rather doubt it.”

Bronwyn scowled furiously. She stretched out her hand, sound waves spiraling down her fingers…

~*~

Hush little baby, don’t say a word
And never mind that noise you heard
It’s just the beast under your bed…

~*~

The waves hit the thing in the chest, the mud absorbing the blow with small bubbling blips, disappearing with no effect.

“Damn! Know any hexes?”

“A few…” He whipped out his wand and shouted “IMMOBULUS!”

For a moment, the mud flow stopped, then…

The creature smiled and took another step. Both Wizard and Professor took a step back.

“That’s not a nice smile, Harry.”

“滨尘尘辞产耻濒辞耻蝉.”

The creature continued to move arduously towards the twosome. Bronwyn began to back up.

“Anything else come to mind?”

“No. Can we run now?”

“Around would be good.” The two turned to the left, both taking off.

The creature followed, moving unbelievably fast.

Deep in the woods, its creator chuckled madly.

~*~

Amadeus was ahead of Severus, Remus bringing up the rear when they went through the Great Door. The wolf had been lucky, arriving in the Great Hall just as Filch was coming in, following students. Severus had been tempted to blast a hole through the doors, but managed to sling the heavy door backwards.

He slid onto the broom, a lighter, faster vehicle than he was used to and his knuckles clinched white as he kicked off running. He lifted up, his nose in the air, as if to…

…nose to the wind, smelling mud and fear…Great Eru, it is so cold, to the lake, to the lake, not going to be fast enough, fly, you foolish Wizard, go…

Severus’ head jerked back as he turned towards her, towards the lake.

Beneath him, the wolf lengthened his stride, the beauty of toned muscle, as the animal sped towards the water. Fur was streamlined and Amadeus appeared to not be bothered by the low - lying bushes and thorns that suddenly sprung up in his way. They followed the edge of the lake, the canine appearing to fly over the mud.

The temperature dropped more, but within a minute, he spied both woman and Harry and the…

…what do you see? What is it?…

~*~

Both Bronwyn and Harry were running full throttle, Bronwyn occasionally looking over her shoulder to see if they were gaining any ground, widening any distance. Several times, the two went opposite ways around trees and it was not lost on the Professor that the creature followed her path.

“Harry!” Her breath came out in painful gasps, ragged as torn parchment. “Go to the left-“

“WHAT?” The teen’s arms were beginning to pump slower.

“Go to the left! I’ll go to the right-”

“WHAT? But-”

Bronwyn nudged closer, her arms becoming heavy. “It’s after me. It follows my path. Run to safety.”

“Where… are…”

“The woods. Go! Get help!” She shoved him to the left and disappeared into the forest.

The creature followed, its dank form blending into dead bark.

~*~

Severus watched in horror as the woman and teen split apart, the monster following her. Amadeus didn’t break stride; he had made visual contact. He simply followed her, appearing to speed up, despite the arduous and difficult trek made so far. Severus was not mindful of the mud splattered to the beast’s shoulder, nor aware of the thorns and briars mangled beneath the caked plaster. He gestured, pointing to Lupin behind to gather the teen. Whether the werewolf saw or not was no concern truthfully, and Severus continued forward unmindful if Lupin followed Harry or not.

Bronwyn’s beast tore into the woods, the alabaster of his coat disappearing quickly into the rising fog of the brush. As much as the Wizard despised it, he was forced too quickly from the broom to follow them on foot into the mirk. Jumping from the sweep, he slung it to the base of a tree and ran into the forest.

Tendrils of mist curled adoringly around his ankles, caressing him like a lover, as he drove further into the wood. Had he listened, he would have heard the wind, calling him as an old friend, so many times he sought the peace of the earth in the past.

He reached out, locating Bronwyn by her quickly dropping body heat. With any luck, she would be found in the small clearing he knew well ahead. The canopy overhead became thicker, completely shutting out the sun, what little there was.

She was there, facing her attacker, backing into one of the many trees that sheltered the clearing. Amadeus had distracted the monster made of mud, circling, growling and snapping. Severus smiled, not a kind one, stepping to the left.

*Bronwyn… *

He reached out his hand, willing her to look at him, continuing to glide noiselessly to the left.

*Bronwyn… come to me *

The woman looked up, eyes wide like a startled deer. She took yet another step back, waving at her pet.

*Come to me… now… *

Bronwyn continued to back up, focusing on the snarling beast, who was now charging, obviously ready to join in the fray.

Severus sneered…

* Bronwynnnnn…. *

She ignored him and pushing off from an exposed root, charged the monster.

“Accio Bronwyn!”

Bronwyn jerked towards him, surprise obviously registered as Amadeus dove into the belly of the creature. Severus grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the openness away from the forest.

“SEVERUS! I -”

A pained yelp rose behind them from the clearing and the sound of a body painfully hitting the floor of the woods was clearly heard.

“AMADEUS!” Bronwyn jerked, attempting to release herself from the Wizard’s grasp. “Turn me loose, you bastard!! My-“

Severus continued to lug her towards the field. “We will come back for your beastie in a moment!” Another yelp followed them as another thud was heard. “I cannot fight that thing if it is sheltered by a circle of trees.” Crashing was heard behind them as the two escaped from the woods, the light returning to the horizon.

They broke the tree line, stumbling wildly into the dying vestiges of daylight. Over the rise, they saw Remus and Harry running towards them.

“Seve-” Remus panted.

“To the lake. Now!” Keeping Bronwyn’s elbow in a painful grip, he dragged her towards the lake, taking mental note to set her down when this was over and remind her exactly who was in charge. She continued to struggle, looking back and calling to Amadeus. He jerked her to face him. “Do not force me to put an Imperious Curse on you. I will.” He pointed with his chin. “To. The. Lake.” To make his point, he shoved her in the direction he wished her to go.

Remus and Harry ran up beside them, both heading the same way. “The faster you go,” Remus explained, “the faster we can complete this and get back to Amadeus.”

The werewolf took in her infuriated look. “Please, Bronwyn,” he sped past her. “Amadeus can take care of himself.”

The quartet quickly found themselves back at the lake’s edge.

Bronwyn spun around, her back to the still waters. “Now what, you jackarse?” She was breathing heavily, gasping painfully for air. “We’re here! Now what?”

Severus had his wand out, breathing normally and in obvious better shape than the woman beside him. “We send it back to where it came from.” His eyes never left the path they had just sprinted. “What spells did you use, Potter?”

Harry gasped, wheezing out the spells he had used. Severus shook his head in disgust.

“Boy Saviour,” he spat rudely, “You still do not use your brain. All of your mother’s intelligence wasted.” Bronwyn gasped at the vindictiveness of the Professor’s voice. “Think, Boy Wonder, and hurry,” The creature came lumbering up the hill, no sign of Amadeus,

“I don’t think this is the time for a magic lesson, you over-bearing, glam…glavrol… dim-witted limlug-”

“ - what is it made of?” Severus continued, ignoring her and pinning the not quite adult with his stare.

Harry’s eyes were fixed on the monster lumbering towards them. He gripped his wand, his knuckles turning white. “Mud. We need water-”

“And wind.” Both Professor and Boy were now side by side, wands at the ready. The very wind Severus mentioned began to whip, whipping robes and scarves and hair into a frantic dance.

Remus stood to the other side of Harry, his wand out, a trio of Wizards ready to confront and battle. “Remind me to have a chat with you, Severus,” he spat good-humoredly, “about your method of teaching.”

The Potions Master’s gaze never left the monster. “There is nothing wrong with the way I teach. “ He watched the approach of the thing, “Wait…. Wait…”

“Severus,” Bronwyn wheezed, “There are no whites of eyes to wait-”

“ Wait…Aeris Subsolto Aqua!”

Harry repeated the spell, both Wizards pointing back with their wands and in a throwing motion, conjured great waves based in the lake, flying over the group, raining great torrents on the storming beast. Remus’ spell was lost in the noise of the curtain of water, a tornado erupting from the tip of his wand.

With an angry howl, the mutant was slowed and then stopped as he seemed to thicken, bog down into the soft dirt found near the lake, and then melt, pieces, chunks of mud, flying into the atmosphere. The spells were repeated several times, held out, held on to, the water continuing to pour and rain above them.

Within minutes, although seeming hours, the creature began to lose shape, its arms, hands, if they could be called that, lost definition, its forward movement stopped and Bronwyn watched in morbid fascination as it returned to the muck that birthed it.

Soon enough, the water and tornadic winds stopped, and they waited to see if it would spring back up. Harry was wringing the water out of his coat, before he finally thought and used a drying spell. “Ashes to ashes, mud to mud…” His voice trailed of with a nervous and self-conscious laugh.

Bronwyn shoved her way between the Wizards, clothing dripping, her eyes searching the line, the woods, the path for her furred friend. Soon, Amadeus came, limping over the rise, yipping for his mistress. As she ran towards him, she spun around, searching, her voice raised to the heavens, “You Bastard! Your arse is mine!”

Harry was obviously confused. “Sirs? I don’t understand… Why was-”

“No, you do not.” Severus followed Bronwyn, fury still etched in granite features, wand still clutched in alabaster fingers.

“Remus?” Harry turned on his friend and teacher. “Would you explain? Why was it after her?” He pointed towards the diminutive professor. “What did she do?”

Remus took a careful breath, carefully measuring his words. “I should not tell you.”

“Should not or won’t?” Harry spat. “She just spent Merlin knows how long listening to me ramble.”

Severus had reached the woman and the wolf, her hands roaming her companion’s fur, looking for injuries, her mouth working, words lost in the air. Severus’s wand was out, water now pouring from her clothing in a gush. He was not paying attention to the DADA Professor, nor his student.

“Harry, listen.” Remus grabbed Harry, none to gently. “You cannot repeat this to anyone, including Hermione and Ron. Something… something powerful was stolen from Professor Powell.”

“厂辞尘别迟丑颈苍驳-”

“Something very, very powerful. The instrument she uses to communicate with her descendants. To aid them. They killed her husband for it, to hide it. They are trying to kill her, so she can’t use it, to steal her secrets.”

“But, who would steal-”

“A wizard, Harry. A wizard stole it.”

The implications slowly sunk in. “I killed Voldemort, Remus-”

“If Voldemort can be resurrected or if there is a weapon more powerful than Voldemort, Bronwyn, knowingly or unknowingly, has it filed in her brain. She is The Historian, Harry. Not ‘a’ historian. The Historian.” A pained yelp carried over the field. He shoved Blakely’s broom at the student. “This belongs to Blakely.” Harry blanched. “See he gets it, back. I will probably need to help with Amadeus.” Remus headed towards the trio. “Not a word, Harry,” he hissed over his shoulder. “I mean it.” He turned and ran towards Amadeus, who was now lying on the ground.

Harry watched Remus trot off, and then glared at the broom he was holding, giving it a black look. “What a piece of shite.”

“One piece, Harry!”

~*~

The train moved steadily through the countryside. The sole passenger was tall and willowy, eyes as unusual in color as the day. He marveled for not the first time the ingenuity of man, but wrinkled his nose at the stench the thing created. He checked his to – do list one more time, truly convinced he had forgotten nothing, left no stone unturned and no end untied. Time here had crawled laboriously to its end and he wished to be done with this world and move on. His silver pen tapped the one thing not checked on the list…

Not much longer… and then home…

The train chugged on.

~*~

?

nem-raen – crook nose