CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
the archer
THERE WAS A slight murmur in the Great Hall as the sixth years bunched together. Red, green, yellow and blue was mostly starkly contrasting in homogenous groups, but a few people managed to break through the tension to visit a friend. The early afternoon light was white as it streamed into the Great Hall. A strand of grey clouds threatened to block out the meager sun, but were distant thoughts as they lurked in the horizon. The dust twinkled in the new nearly spring light at it fell, capturing the attentions of the quiet students. Anticipation cut through the air, hushing the voices as feet shuffled and the ends of cloaks were twisted around fingers.
All eyes were on the raised wooden platform in the center of the room. In a rectangular shape, painted in a deep navy blue that seemed to go on endlessly after the wood it was painted on—as if it was cavernous—and decorated with a glimmering gold trim and in grand silver strokes, the phases of the moon. The full moon sat in the middle of the rectangle as it eventually faded into nothing as the stage extended.
Some almost expected blue velvet curtains and a top hat with a pigeon in it—the glamorous stage being something of the magic that the muggleborns had once believed in.
Out from the door that would usually be behind the professor's table, Professor Birdsall's robes swept out. A similar midnight blue, they billowed behind him as he made his way silently towards the students—whose attentions were now singularly on him.
"Sixth years," false cheer invaded his voice, "we will be reviewing offensive spells from previous years and possibly learn some new ones in the dueling format, as advertised." He was met with silence and beady eyes.
The tension in the air thickened as eyes slide over to the Slytherins discreetly. Murmurs of "why teach them" filled the Hall quietly as a few clad in green shifted uncomfortably, but most stayed stoic.
The little toy soldiers were being lined up—uniforms and cracked smiles painted on in a careful slap dash—enough to make them almost human, but enough to leave them soulless. They were contorted into place by old, wizened hands—much more wise than them, having barely lived at all, but when has wisdom ever won wars, if not for the nameless, faceless bodies it directs without a second thought?
Betty looked around, in thought about the very subject. Because not everyone was like her and her family. Some would run and some would try and kill her. How odd it was that they were all standing in the same hall and eating the same food and stressing over the same tests and yet, in a couple of years, they'd damn each other as green shots of light went flying as humanity crumbled through their fingers with the dust of fallen castles and broken hopes for the future. As their wooden swords clatter to the ground, their arms ripped—identical wood splitting—and the heart's ink oozing out as the paint of the eyes smear, almost looking like a single tear.
She accidentally made eye contact with Regulus Black, who was with his usual crowd, but not focused on the conversation that they were making. His gaze was absent as his eyes darted around the room from other students to the melting snow outside to the dust that hung in the early spring sun.
Her eyes were unmoving this time as her warm hazel eyes pierced his steely grey ones that she could almost mistake for Sirius's. Professor Birdsall's voice faded to the background as he went through the stock speech that the other five years below them had heard. There was no emotion on either of their faces and yet stories that any respectable library would turn away were being carefully passed between them.
Betty only noticed that a draft blew through the Hall with the main doors sweeping open when her hair moved with it. In unison, their eyes darted to the morose figure of Severus Snape, his jet black hair reflecting in the new light. There was an authority to the way his ropes draped behind him, the slight tilt of his chin skywards and the upturned corner of his mouth into a foreboding smirk. It almost stopped their gazes from darting to Lily Evans and James Potter, who were walking side by side behind him.
Birdsall smiled nervously and ushered the seventh years towards him. "Thank you for joining us, Mr. Snape, Ms. Evans and Mr. Potter."
Lily was the first to speak in her usual cordial tone: "of course, Professor."
James opened his mouth to mimic her sentiment was was cut off. "Of course, Professor," Snape drawled. "Potions is my best subject, so missing a lesson won't do anything."
"Right, Mr. Snape." The professor's exasperation was evident in his voice. "As I said, Mr. Snape is one of the best duelers in his year and as you all know, Ms. Evans and Mr. Potter are our Head Boy and Girl. The three of them have been kind enough to lend us some of their time to help me instruct."
"Thank you for having me, Professor." Snape's face held a tight smile.
"Thank you, Professor," Lily said with a pleasant smile. "However, James will be doing most of the instructing for the both of us. I'm afraid I'm not particularly skilled at dueling."
"Of course, Ms. Evans," Birdsall replied cordially. "Do I have any volunteers?" His gaze turned towards the silent crowd of sixth years. People leaned closer into their friends, fearing the impression that they might offer themselves up to the wolves. The midnight reputations of both boys were enough to frightened even the bravest of the sixth year Gryffindors. "Perhaps a prefect? Mr. Black? Mr. Abbott? Ms. Lupin!" Betty's cheeks crawled with red as she fought the compulsory urge to step forward.
"I will, Professor," Regulus finally said with quiet authority. "Severus, if you'd be so kind?"
Professor Birdsall's face awashed with relief. "Very good, Mr. Black."
He stepped back as Regulus made his way up the golden steps. Severus stepped up on the opposing end, disappointed riddling his face. They stalked towards each other, exchanged a few words, Regulus nodded and they both paced back to their previous positions. They turned around, held their wands at the ready and finally struck.
Betty didn't have time to realize what was happening as quick flashed erupted in the Great Hall. Severus fired a spell and Regulus quickly blocked it, sending one back. They rapidly and gracefully went back in forth—the only thing heard in the Hall were the yells of "protego", "expelliarmus" and "stupefy".
They slowed down as the duel progressed, developing a rhythm between defensive and offensive spells. They ebbed and flowed like the rapids in a creek or the tide of the ocean. The students watched as the spells illuminated the walls in great flashes of scarlet. It illuminated eyes as the devil flashed through each of them as they observed, their innocence slowly drifting away as they leaned in closer to watch.
However, she managed to tear her eyes away and meet the eyes of Lily Evans. They both sent each other kind smiles. She nodded towards the stage encouragingly and Betty exhaled, in defeat.
Regulus's feet were like a dancer's as he twisted around the stage, narrowly missing spells. But one moment of hesitation and Severus sent him tumbling backwards. Stalking forward with a smirk, he held out and hand and hoisted Regulus back to his feet as the sixth years clapped for him admirably. He shuffled down the stairs and back over to his friends, who greeted him with discreet pats on the back and a few snickers.
The silence was what came next. The excitement died down and the dread of having to follow him settled in. Betty gulped and shook her head, making Freddie look over to her with confusion. "I would like to try next, Professor." Betty stepped forward with a timid smile. Her eyes flickered up to Severus and immediately became void of emotion as she drew her wand.
"Very good, Ms. Lupin. That will be a tough act to follow, but I am sure you are capable enough."
James's eyes locked on Betty as she stepped forward. He tilted his head towards Lily. "What is she doing?"
"It's the lesson, James. Duelling? Remember McGonagall telling us about it?"
"Yes, but why is she going up against Snivellus?"
"Severus."
"He doesn't deserve that kind of respect. Still doesn't answer my question though."
"Because it's good for her to get out there! Even if it is for a lesson."
"She shouldn't duel against him."
"She'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen? There's a professor here."
James's stomach fell as his eyes damned the redhead beside him. He cursed her willful ignorance and her blind civility. Severus Snape wouldn't harm people like Regulus Black, but the sisters of werewolves, half bloods and the infuriating sisters of his mortal enemies were not shown the same mercy.
"I'd like to do this one, Professor," James announced as he stepped forward with a casual smile. "Snape did so well with the previous one, I'd like to give it a try against Betty."
"It's quite alright, Potter," Severus snarled. "I'm not tired and Lupin did step forward to duel me."
"It'll be alright, James," Betty said quietly with a small smile and hopeful eyes.
Snape took this moment of weakness and fired his first spell, which Betty narrowly missed. She turned around with wide eyes to look at him as he fired another spell at her, which she blocked.
"Rule one, Elizabeth," Severus said triumphantly. "Your attacker won't wait for you to be ready."
"Let's remember that this is a classroom format!" Birdsall chirped with an uneasy smile.
Her eyes glared into his as she felt the inky darkness of hatred seeping into her body and tainting her magic—infecting it with a new ferocity. Her wand movements became sharper as she cast her defensive spells to deflect the assault that was being laid upon her.
Snape fumed at her constant defensive magic—the only word slipping from her lips being "protego". Slowly, he placed one foot in front of the other and stalked towards her with each spell he announced. Yet, her feet were firmly planted on the ground and her shield remained. She could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and the way his arm quivered while she felt no such weakness.
He hesitated for half a second, but she'd learned from Regulus and that half a second was enough. "Stupefy!" rang throughout the Hall, making ears perk up at the change in voice. He narrowly managed to block it as she sent her second, then her third and her fourth spell. She tilted her head as she mirrored his previous stance.
Her eyes narrowed and searched his body. They darted around his torso, his neck and his shoulders. Just as she had yelled "expelliarmus!", he moved his arm, exposing his left shoulder. Immediately, another scarlet streak flew from her wand towards it. "Stupefy!"
Severus was sent tumbling backward onto the bottom of the stage. Silence filled the Great Hall as she looked down at him. Initially, her eyes held nothing until a small glimmer flickered within them as she stared at him; victory. The odds had not been in her favor, but the breath that the Great Hall held now sang a different tune. A small clap sounded from Professor Birdsall as he stepped forward, in front of the stage and closer to the students.
She searched Severus's figure as he refused to meet her eyes, preferring to stay grounded than to stand next to her. But, she was a prefect before all else, so she waited to see if Madame Pomfrey would be needed. But a small giggle next to her made her break her concentration to meet the grin and proud eyes of Philippa Morgan. She didn't notice James's eyes widen when he saw Severus curl his hands around his wand that was discarded just next to him.
When students were questioned after, they all claimed it happened to quickly for anyone to really see what happened. Freddie Abbott claimed that Professor Birdsall was talking about the use of the stunning spell when suddenly it was as if Betty and Severus had switched positions. Aisling Khan said that she saw him raise his wand and scream. The only conclusion that could be made was that "sectumsempra" was a spell none of them had ever heard of before.
Vengeful victory flooded Severus's eyes as Betty's widened. She stumbled back slightly and searched, in silent strained shock, for where the spell had hit her. But, the scarlet that started to soak the front of her white button down answered the question for her. Victory was quickly replaced with momentary disappointment as he grumbled to himself about not enough damage and wand movement. Professor Birdsall stormed up to the stage and restrained Severus, talking to him in harsh whispers, as he dragged him away from Betty.
A soft "fuck" came out of James Potter as he sprinted towards the stage and narrowly caught the sinking Betty Lupin as she collapsed. Slowly, he held her increasing weight as he eased them onto the floor. Her eyes fluttered closed as her breathing started to slow and James saw red. He whipped his head up to be met with Severus's beady eyes on them. "I'm going to fucking kill you." James's voice was low, but his attention was cut when he heard a groan from below him. His eyes flickered down to see her face contorted in pain. His eyes and tongue were blazing as he looked up once more. "You're a dead man Severus Snape!"
"Someone get Madame Pomfrey!" Lily exclaimed as she ran out of the Hall. "We're getting Dumbledore!" She was tugging Freddie Abbott with her, who was dumbstruck, but once he realized what was going on, started running much faster than Lily.
Philippa followed quickly after her and turned towards the Hospital wing. Aisling's feet were planted as her stomach churned, deaf to Cece's quiet, urging whispers as she tried to tug the Hufflepuff towards their friend. She couldn't speak, she couldn't move, she couldn't think. Things like this didn't happen. Not at Hogwarts. The war was only present in the undercurrents—quiet enough that with loud enough music playing and an essay due the next day, you could drown it out. You could become blissfully ignorant to the fact that your enemy was standing but a few feet from you and asking for a quill to borrow.
Betty coughed, making James's eyes snap back to her. "Hey, stay with me."
"Never heard you say that before," Betty mumbled lethargically.
"Yeah, I've always wanted to be the one to kill you, not Severus bloody Snape."
A weak chuckle tumbled from Betty's lips, a cough followed soon after that made her wince. The buzzing crowd went silent as the grave as the sky blue robes of Professor Dumbledore swept in, followed by Madame Pomfrey—her hair frizzier than normal and a worried expression striken across her face. With Professor Birdsall stationed behind the boy, Dumbledore quickly led Severus out of the Great Hall, eyes following him intently, as Madame Pomfrey searched Betty's body.
She pulled a shimmering cerulean blue potion out from her cloak. She pressed the edge of the vial to Betty's lips and slowly poured it down her throat. She cringed at the taste, but managed to swallow all of it, slowly she felt her body tingling and then every sensation became lighter as her body started to numb.
"That's a nasty cut," she mumbled, her smile holding as much comforting humor as she could muster. "Can I unbutton you shirt, dear?"
Betty nodded slightly and at the visible permission, James immediately tore the buttons open, fiddling with a few furiously, until he stopped just under her bra. A large gash trailed from just above her belly button diagonally to right under her bra.
Crimson blood faded darker as the blood seeped from her wound in every direction—tracing streaks across her stomach. With every shuttering breath she took, a tear of blood inched along. It looked like the red that oozed from every surface of the Gryffindor common room—the same red that was on James's lapel. And for a split second, red was no longer his favorite color.
Madame Pomfrey cast a few healing spells and another that Betty recognized in the back of her mind that made her feel slightly weightless—like an invisible force was keeping her from sinking back into James completely.
"Your wound is deep, Ms. Lupin, but it is manageable. I will be having a word with Mr. Snape after Professor Dumbledore, but until then, you'll have to come with me to the hospital wing." Madame Pomfrey's hands were gentle and deliberate as they buttoned up her blouse once more.
"Madame Pomfrey, I don't really think that—"
Betty tried to get up on her own, but yelped in pain once she broke the spell and contorted the wound. Madame Pomfrey raised an eyebrow, but looked up to see the formidable face of Professor McGonagall.
"Potter," McGonagall called out, "Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you."
He strained his neck to look back at her with eyes that begged on their hands and knees. "Professor."
"Now." Her tone was finite, but held remorse.
James's eyes flickered back down to Betty, who groaned. Her fingers were still curled around his jumper, making her knuckles white, but she slowly felt weightless in his arms as the spell became unbroken. He let out a short sigh and turned to face Aisling and Cece. Someone flipped within Aisling as she met James Potter's eyes. The unadulterated desperation within them compelled her forward, Cece on her heel as they descended upon their friend. James slowly, reluctantly, stood up—leaving Betty to float, her blood suspended onto her. One last glance and he was gone with McGonagall's billowing cape.
Aisling rested Betty's head on her lap and smiled nervously. "You've really had a tough go of it this year, huh?"
"Ashe," Cece's voice was a hiss as she gave Aisling a look, "not the time."
"No, no," Betty mumbled as she coughed a little. "It's quite alright."
"Ms. Moreno and Ms. Khan, could you help me take Ms. Lupin to the hospital wing?" Madame Pomfrey asked.
Without hesitation, both girls carefully lifted Betty up and rested her on each of their arms—Madame Pomfrey's spell helping with her nearly dead weight. They managed their way out of the Great Hall, eyes trailing them and rumors polluting the air that Betty struggled to take in. Her stomach churned with the potion as her brain fogged and the only clarity she had was when she felt the floor change from the smooth stone of the Great Hall to the cobblestone of the corridors.
The few students that were out of class stared as the group passed them, struggling to pay the prying eyes no mind. At the uncanny sickening smell of alcohol, Betty's senses awoke as her heart beat picked up and her eyes widened. She crazily searched her surroundings and couldn't recognize the familiar space.
"No no no no no no," she mumbled continuously as she started to resist against her aid.
"Betty, what's going on?" Cece harshly whispered as she tried to pull her friend forward.
"Betty," was all Aisling could make out as she could see the blood oozing more out of the corner of her eye, making her gulp.
Betty mumbled lethargically as she shook her head and continued to resist. "I can't be here. She can't be here. She's already gone. I can't—I can't do that again." Her voice was low, almost inaudible as she murmured. The girls cried for Madame Pomfrey's help, who immediately rushed over. All Betty saw was a short scarlet light before she slumped forward into her bleary, bleak dreamland.