"I want to know who cast the Mark in London. I want to know - NOW." The Dark Lord seethed the words, standing at the head of an ornate table, burning with anger so violent that his face was flushed and his hands trembled on the table as he leaned menacingly against it, his eyes glowering down at the faces that surrounded him.
The ten closest followers sat, others stood around the room in clusters, and the cold anger that radiated from Voldemort had them all jostling subtly as though each wishing to shield themselves with another, their bodies tense and eyes diverted. None wanted to draw any kind of attention to themselves, each afraid to move, to be somehow implicated in anyway. The Dark Lord was not in a forgiving mood.
Severus Snape stood toward the far end of the room, looking about at the others around him, letting their thoughts slip in and out of his own mind, like an occlumens' camouflage. He could feel the Dark Lord pressing his legilimency around the room, sifting thoughts and minds. The difference in their searchings was that Voldemort searched for only the evidence of the killing in West London - Snape searched for anyone who could be a plausible scapegoat to pin the murder of the Jennings woman on.
His eyes landed on Barty Crouch.
Twitchy little Barty Crouch. A supposed friend of Regulus Black, who never quite fulfilled his duty as such... desperate to serve, stupid enough to act without command... disposable, not quite quick enough to come up with a plausible lie and, Severus could see in his mind, Barty had no alibi. He'd been at home with his dear sweet mother all morning, having his robes re-hemmed for his final year at Hogwarts. He'd grown like a weed; Darling mummy who had no idea her son was a little death eater practically licking the boots of the Dark Lord in his wild desire to fix his long standing daddy issues.
Pathetic.
Severus cleared his throat and stepped forward. Everyone in the room looked over at him, their masks glinting in the flickering flame of the candelabras.
"It was Crouch, my Lord," Severus said lowly. "I see it there in his mind."
"No - no, I - I didn't -" Barty stammered.
All eyes turned to look at the small figure, his face obscured by the mask like all the others. "I - I didn't - I don't know what you think you see, but I -"
"Your mind is not something to be inferred, Crouch," Snape hissed. "I see what I see."
"I'll take Veriteserum to prove I didn't, my Lord!"
Snape hissed, "You're a mighty cocky little --"
"Enough!" Snapped Voldemort. He waved for Snape to melt back into the crowd, and Severus did so with a sense of triumph. The Dark Lord stepped 'round the table, headed for the small frame of Barty Crouch.
"I swear, I didn't do it," Barty Crouch rasped.
Voldemort stood over him, staring down into the boys's eyes, which scarcely showed through his mask. Severus watched in fascination.
The Dark Lord reached out his hands and placed them onto Barty's shoulders. The narrow framed boy's shoulders dipped but he stared up at Voldemort with a look of undying admiration and desperate desire of a son seeking approval from a beloved father. His nostrils flared slightly, afraid, but dedicated enough to stare up into the reddish eyes of his Master.
Even more pathetic, Severus thought. Imagine wanting the approval of a man so badly that you withered yourself into an expression like that...
He hoped the Dark Lord would obliterate the little bit of toad spawn.
But then something Snape never could have predicted happened. The boy's sincerity sparked some long forgotten memory in Voldemort... and Severus saw a flash of figure from behind, a man with a cane with the head of a phoenix with a ruby red eye and a money clip to match... and the thought of that man was gone before Severus could unfurl the meaning behind it, but something changed in Voldemort's tone near to instantly.
"Very good, my faithful servant... you.. have done well..."
The entire room collectively let go of a breath they had not consciously been holding.
Severus Snape melted further into the thronging Death Eaters, his face burning behind his mask.
Newt Scamander was stroking the head of his itty bitty Red Vine dragon. He stroked the little scaled chin and stared into the tiny red eyes as it stared back up at him, curling his tail about his finger and making a strange sound somewhere between a purr and a heartbeat.
"Of all the absolutely ridiculous things in the world that I have heard of, Mr. Scamander, and I've heard of quite a good many mind you, I've never heard of anyone that's had a dragon in their heart," Tina said, shaking her head.
"P-P-Pox, his -his name is Pox," Newt said.
Tina was looking through the paperwork that Newt had been given, reading through his at-home care instructions. "There are a good deal more restrictions after a muggle heart operation than there are with a magical one, Mr. Scamander," she said, frowning, "And a lot worse that can happen if you don't obey the rules. For example, those stitches they gave you? They could break. They're reinforced by magic, of course, so it's a bit harder to do than true muggle stitches, but still a danger to consider..."
"Wor-worth it," Newt said, smiling at Pox.
"You won't be able to care for the creatures for at least four weeks," Tina said with a sigh.
Newt looked up. "W-what?"
"You're on a very careful restriction from what they call strenuous activity."
"St-stren-strenuous activity hardly c-counts c-caring for m-my creatures," Newt said, "Th-they mean I - I ought not to be - to be playing q-quidditch and th-that sort of thing."
"No, Mr. Scamander," Tina said sternly, "They mean no strenuous activity. It says here your back is going to be very sore and you're likely to have a few sharp pains now and then and to alert your doctor if they increase in frequency or intensity, or last longer than 4 weeks." She frowned, "You have to be very honest with me Newt about whether something is hurting you or not, sir."
Newt nodded. "Of - of course, honey. W-when haven't I been --?"
"Oh I don't know," Tina muttered, "Perhaps when I find out that you've got a dragon in your chest when you have a heart attack on the floor of the observatory deck and the mediwitch says it's been there at least three weeks and you say something to the effect of OH I WONDERED WHY MY CHEST HAS BEEN HURTING CONSTANTLY. Maybe that's when?"
Newt flushed and turned back to Pox.
"It says you may get more emotional." She looked at him.
"E-emo-emotional?" Newt asked.
"Says some people find they cry a lot."
Newt scoffed, then winced as Pox nipped his fingertip.
"And we have to begin eating more healthy. I hate to say it, but you're simply going to have to cut back on eating those powdered sugar jelly donuts Jacob makes."
"They - they're shaped like - like nifflers, though," Newt pouted.
"And filled with raspberry flavored death."
Newt sighed.
"It says here you'll tire very easily and you'll have to rest a minimum of 4-6 weeks, but it's likely you won't be back to your regular energy levels until 2-3 months has passed." She shook her head. "We need to hire someone to care for the creatures. I certainly can't keep up with all these creatures like you do - not with Rolf, too - and Mr. Kowalski is far too old to be asking him to take up all of this... He's alright with the moon calves but the graphons, eurumpets, thunderbird, hippogriff --"
"T-Tina you're - you're overthinking --"
"Oh but where are we going to find someone who can be trusted with the werewolf habitat? We can't exactly go hiring any magizoologist assistant without vetting them well and simple timing limits --"
"I'll do it."
Tina and Newt both turned to look.
Remus Lupin stood in the doorway of their bedroom in the little cottage, nestled among the habitats in the briefcase. He was holding a tray with plates of food and steaming cups of tea. The scars on his face gleamed against his pale skin. "I mean, I might not be very good at it, but I do know how to feed everyone and they all know who I am and the like..."
Tina looked at Newt, who looked very perplexed as he stared back at Remus.
"I mean, Bradley knows me, too, and I could help him with transforming while you're recovering... I could care for the whole briefcase, Mr. Scamander, and honestly it's sort of like I owe you, isn't it? For all the times you've saved me and cared for me in my life." Remus's voice trembled with hope at the idea of being able to repay a great debt that he'd never thought possible to contribute toward properly. "Please let me help you, Newt."
"You and I could stay with Jacob and Queenie," Tina suggested, looking at Newt.
"Yeah, I can take the briefcase with me back to London. I'm sure Sirius would be alright it. He'd probably love it actually! And I'll bet James would be on for helping, too. The creatures would be very well taken care of, Mr. Scamander, I promise," Remus said.
"And then I can focus on helping you get better and Queenie would love to help us with Rolf, and we'll have you on your feet again and back to caring for your creatures in a jiffy." Tina smiled at Newt. "What do you say, sweetheart?"
The tiny Red Vine dragon had curled itself up over the top of Newt's bandages, right over the place where it had been inside of him not even twenty four hours prior.
Dougal the demiguise flickered from the place he lay curled up at Newt's hip.
"D-Dougal, Pickett and - and Pox stay with- with us- and - and my niffler --"
"No. Absolutely not. That niffler is a strenuous activity in and of herself."
As if to emphasize the point, the niffler suddenly fell from the rafter, hanging directly on Newt's lap, holding onto a shiny, angular hemo-grip clamp she'd stolen from the operating room.
"See?" Tina asked, reaching with a clenched jaw for the niffler and the clamp, even as the niffler scrambled to get away. Tina lifted the niffler by the scruff of the neck and the niffler spun, sniffing the air as it clutched the clamps. Remus crossed the room and put the tray on a table, then lifted the niffler out of Tina's arms as she pried away the clamps. She held them up as evidence. "Mr. Scamander... was the niffler in the operating room with you?"
"I - I couldn't go alone --"
"Those poor doctors," muttered Tina.
"I - I heard one of them say he was - was re-retiring," Newt said.
Remus laughed, hugging the niffler to his chest as he scrambled, trying to get away. Tina and Newt both looked at him and he flushed, and said, "Just that's pretty funny is all."
Sirius lay in bed, alone in the flat, James and Lily gone with the promise to pop back the moment he needed them if he'd only call them up on the mirror. But the mirror was dark and all he could hear was the purring of Rodger and the view was nothing but a glimpse of the hallway half obscured by a flicking bottlebrush tail.
Sirius had pulled one of Remus's jumpers from the closet and held it now, close to his face, his Please Return to Remus Lupin shirt on, the record player quietly spinning "Home Tonight" by Aerosmith, and Sirius sighed.
Now it's time
To say good night to you
Now its time
To bid you sweet adieu
Baby, drink a cheers to yesterday
And maybe you'll drink your tears away
So baby, don't let go
Hold on real tight
'Cause I'll be home tonight
Tonight
So baby, don't let go
Hold on real tight
'Cause I'll be home tonight
Tonight
Tonight
He felt profoundly sad and guilty and alone and yet he didn't want to feel those things, he was afraid Lily might feel them too if he did. And Lily didn't need to feel his blues.
Do you think Lily can feel me, too, Sirius? When she feels you?
"I certainly hope not," he answered out loud.
Keeping me all to yourself? So selfish. You're sooo selfish. Conceited even! Self absorbed!
He didn't answer.
Always thinking only of yourself, Sirius. Just consider how you only thought of your own anger when you lost it on that old bitch and her friends. Not even giving a damn about Remus Lupin. Too busy telling her that she would be bit by a werewolf... threatening her...
"I didn't threaten her."
Of course not... oh you do tell yourself so many good lies. Don't you? That wasn't your intent at all. Was it? Of course it wasn't. Another good lie you tell yourself. And here's another: you're nothing like your parents so why would you threaten the life of somebody who hurt your feelings? Of course you didn't do that! You're nothing like them...
Right?
"I'm not - I don't do the things they would do, I --"
Exposed Remus.
"He didn't get caught -"
Doesn't matter.
"He isn't going to be on the Ministry registry, he -"
And who is to thank for that? You? Or did you ruin your best friend's life? Forcing him into a career he said not even six months ago that he hated? That he left for his hatred of it? Now James will learn to resent you and why shouldn't he? He's already sacrificed so much for you.
Why not give up his life for you, too, 'ey Sirius?
"Stop..."
And now Remus will never trust you again. He will say he does, sure, but we both know he will be lying. He gives you too many chances... poor lad... worst husband ever, aren't you?
He should leave you.
He'd be smart to.
Maybe while he's away he will find some handsome American boy with a New York accent and fuck me hair, a degree in something sexy like philosophy or art theory --
"Fuck off, Achlys."
But she only laughed and continued on as though he hadn't even told her off at all.
If he still loved you, he would be here now, beside you, glad that you're safe and at home, wouldn't he? But he's not. He's an entire ocean away because that's how far away from you he had to go to be safe from the bullshit you put him through.
You have really fucked it up again, haven't you? You abhorrent, filthy disappointment! Right mess you are...
Sirius curled his legs up to his chest. "I didn't mean to..."
You never mean to, do you? Never your fault, is it?
"I didn't mean to..."
It's in your blood.
Don't worry, Sirius. Even when Remus leaves you, I won't. I'll be here all the more the lonelier you become.
"Leave me alone..."
You can't run away from your own mind, Sirius. If I wasn't here, you'd have only you. What good would that be?
"No good."
No good at all... Bad. It would be bad. Bad, bad, bad - all bad. Isn't that right Sirius?
"Bad..." he murmured, "I'm - I'm bad... I'm no good, no good..."
Achlys lingered in his chest, weighty but silent, her existence enough to make his heart clutch and and his whole body to tingle with a strange, prickly sensation. He wanted to move, but didn't have the energy for it, wanted to get up but couldn't physically draw his muscles to make the motions... all he could do was lie there while Achlys laughed and watched him burn.