Another Story

Chapter Fourteen

In which the defenses are prepared

Albus was sitting at his desk shuffling through reports and the like that had arrived by owl that morning from various sources within the Ministry of Magic when he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He had sent owls to many people already, including those select few Aurors, former Aurors, and other well-qualified Ministry personnel who had volunteered to defend Hogwarts in the event of an emergency. Dumbledore was expecting a few of them to show up at any time.

Professor Dumbledore smiled when the first of them entered the office, the distinctive clumping sound of his wooden leg preceding him. Alastor Moody looked very grim when he appeared, striding purposefully and quickly toward his desk. Moody was one of the people he had entrusted with the password to his office. The retired Auror had been assigned to keeping an eye on what was happening at the wizarding prison of Azkaban. But Alastor was even more of an asset for his experience and for his remaining ties to the Ministry where many of his former colleagues continued to respect and admire him, despite the incident during the year of the Triwizard Tournament during which he had been held captive for the better part of a school term.

Following immediately behind Moody were Arthur and Percy Weasley, both of whom had obviously left the office that morning to be at Hogwarts. Father and son knew that Dumbledore would not have called unless attack were imminent. Many of their colleagues probably looked that two of them and saw only low level bureaucrats, and in Percy's case a good company man, loyal to the Ministry beyond all reason. But Percy had nearly lost a brother to the last assault on his former school and that had changed his mind about a few things, which had made Arthur very proud. And whether their colleagues thought very much of their abilities or not, any Weasley was a force to be reckoned with in a pinch and their greatest value was in their staunch loyalty to Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix.

Molly Weasley was often at these meetings, but Arthur had owled her to get in touch with their other sons, the ones who were abroad, who also had volunteered to help with the defense of Hogwarts. They were probably on their way even as Arthur and Percy entered the office.

Behind them came a pair of relatively young Aurors, Marie Ames and Owen Tibbs, that Moody had recruited, having known their fathers back during Voldemort's first reign of terror, and an older Auror, Arabella Figg. Ames and Tibbs had been among the first in their profession to believe the rumors that Voldemort had risen again, no small thanks to Alastor Moody, Albus believed.

Arabella had been anticipating the return for many years. She had taught Defense Against the Dark Arts during the first school term after the resurrection of the Dark Lord and subsequently suffered a mild nervous break down due to the events of that year. She had spent a few months at St. Mungo's before returning to her cats and her home in Surrey. Mrs. Figg was quite willing to swear by Merlin and Circe that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was cursed.

"We might have a few more showing up later, an Obliviator and an Unspeakable, but only time will tell," said Moody rather grimly as they gathered around the headmaster's desk.

"Of course," said Dumbledore, rising from his chair to greet them. "Any news before we begin?" he questioned.

"I would have sent you an owl this morning, but yours arrived before I had the chance," said Alastor Moody. "It's about Azkaban," he added.

Arabella and Arthur exchanged worried glances as Albus gestured for Moody to continue.

"The dementors have left the prison ... We aren't certain exactly when it happened. It could have been early this morning or very late last night. There wasn't time for any of the people there, the warden or any of the hired hands, to send word," said Alastor, shaking his head. "All the witches and wizards on the island were ... well, we all know what these creatures do. They're as good as dead. The Ministry is trying to hush it up, but word gets out ... The dementors have most likely gone to join Voldemort."

The younger Aurors and the Weasleys winced when he said the name, but Moody was older than any of them except Albus and Arabella, who had graduated the same year as Moody, and he remembered Tom Riddle the mere mortal, not the monster and unholy terror, and was not afraid to say the name Riddle had taken. He had, after all, opposed Voldemort and other Dark Wizards for more than fifty years.

"There can be no doubt," nodded Dumbledore.

"This will make what we have to do a lot harder," said Arthur uneasily.

"Indeed," said Albus. "But we are well armed against the dementors, are we not?" he asked.

"I've seen to it that all my people know their spells," said Alastor, glancing at Ames and Tibbs, who were quick to nod that they did.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "I trust everyone knows what to do at this point," he said, looking at all of them.

"Strengthen the wards and set up a perimeter," said Arthur with a grim smile that did not often come to his rather jovial face.

"I suggest you all hop to it," said Moody, making it rather clear that he wanted words in private with Dumbledore. "We don't have very much time to waste," he added.

As the others walked out of the office, Albus looked over his spectacles at his friend, and said, "I want to thank you for all your help with this ... and with other things."

"May I be the first to congratulate you on your engagement then?" questioned Alastor with a thin, but genuine smile.

"You may," Albus chuckled.

"I suppose it will require some effort to make sure you see this thing through," said Moody.

"To see that all of us make it through the fire that is to come," nodded Dumbledore, rubbing his eyes under his spectacles.

"How soon?"

"Possibly tonight."

"You held off calling us then," accused Moody. "I thought we talked about that last summer ..."

"Not at all. I only have suspicions."

"Brought on by the lack of activity last night?"

"By the lack of the usual activity."

"Merlin's beard, professor, you are being cryptic again!" growled Alastor Moody, staring him down with both of his eyes. It would have been enough to give an ordinary man a heart attack. Albus merely sighed softly.

"Voldemort and his followers nearly tortured Professor Snape to death last night."

"You don't say," said Moody. He didn't sound entirely displeased by the prospect.

"Alastor, sooner or later you have to accept that he is on our side. He very nearly paid the ultimate price in order to gather information for us."

"For all the good that it did us last year," said Moody.

"You know there were extenuating circumstances, including the suspicions Pettigrew raised about his loyalty among the other Death Eaters."

Alastor raised his hands and said, "I don't want to argue with you, Albus. We've been friends too long to be arguing now when it doesn't do anyone any good."

"Thank you," said Dumbledore.

"How is the blushing bride-to-be holding up?" he questioned with a very Slytherin smirk.

"She will be very relieved when this is all over, and so will I," answered Dumbledore.

"Confident words. We still have a battle before us, the like of which has never been seen before," Moody told him. He didn't seem to disapprove of Dumbledore's confidence. He was only making an observation that any good Slytherin would have made.

"I will try to remember that," said Albus, looking over his spectacles for a moment.

"I should get to work then," said Alastor.

"And I should return to mine," nodded Dumbledore.

Alastor turned to leave the office, but paused at the door and asked over his shoulder almost as an afterthought, "How badly did you say Snape was injured?"

"Driven insane by the Cruciatus curse," replied Dumbledore from his desk.

Alastor nodded slowly and left without another word. The headmaster knew that Moody still held Snape responsible for many things, for his conduct as a Death Eater, for many deaths during the dark years. Dumbledore shook his head and sighed. There was no way to tell the aging ex-Auror that Severus was not responsible for the deaths of his colleagues. He would never believe it.

~

Ginny Weasley had known something was wrong since breakfast, from which Hermione, Professor Snape, and Remus were absent. It was confirmed when Professor McGonagall made the announcement that potions' classes were temporarily canceled due to Professor Snape being ill. Ron and Harry had just walked into the Great Hall and taken the last empty seats at the Gryffindor table. They looked rather glum, another sure sign that all was not well with the world. Remus arrived mid way through the meal. He appeared to be lost in thought as he picked at his eggs with a morose expression on his face. That cinched it.

She thought about asking her brother what was wrong, but he managed to leave the hall before she could catch up with him. She considered running after him and decided against it, knowing that Ron was never very forthcoming about anything. Ginny was smart enough to realize that whatever was wrong probably had something to do with Professor Snape, and that it was very serious if he wasn't teaching. She shivered as she began to posit all of the possible things that could have happened, many of them involving You-Know-Who.

"Poor Hermione," she thought as she walked to Ancient Runes, vowing to see Remus that afternoon when classes ended. He would surely be able to tell her something. But at that point, she wasn't positive that she wanted to know. If was almost certainly something terrible.

"And everyone seems so tense," she thought, watching her professor drop his wand, which he often used as a pointer during the lessons. He practically seemed to tremble with fear. "No good wondering about it now though," Ginny told herself, shaking her head slightly and trying to concentrate on what the aged professor was saying.

Classes went by slowly for Ginny, especially the empty hour that was normally filled by potions', which was immediately before her class with Remus at the end of the day. She passed the time in library, flipping through a book on Animagus transformations and listening to two sixth year Slytherins postulate what had happened to their head of house.

"I think he angered the Dark Lord," said one of the students quietly. They were both pretending to study.

"I don't know," said the other skeptically. "I bet he was attacked by Aurors or something."

"Could they really do that? I don't think there was anything scheduled for last night."

"Are you crazy? We aren't even supposed to know about that stuff! Keep your voice down at least."

"Right, right," said the more confident of the pair. Ginny could practically feel them both glance in her direction.

"So ... do you think he's going to ... you know, die?" There was hint of concern in his voice.

"Snape? Not a chance."

Their conversation had turned to other things, like the potions' essay that was supposed to be due the following Monday and the possibility of cheating on the next Arithmancy test, and Ginny had returned to her reading for the remainder of the hour before going to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

She was always a little happier in Remus' class, even though he never showed her any special attention or favoritism toward her. Ginny loved the class because it was something he enjoyed teaching and because no matter what they might be doing she felt safe in there with him around. Today Remus looked so tired or so worried that it could have been the day after a full moon during which he had not taking his potion. He was trying not to show it, but Ginny could tell. His lesson, a half-hearted review of a Shield Charm, was not up to his usual standard, though no one complained as it was a very useful, not to mention easy, thing to review.

At the end of class, which was the last one for the afternoon, Ginny remained behind, which was not at all unusual.

"What's happened?" she asked in a low voice as the other students drifted into the hall and Remus packed up his things.

"Not here," he said with small sigh, rubbing his brow.

"All right," she agreed before following him back to his rooms.

Remus knew that he couldn't tell Ginny what had happened. He had only told Harry and Ron because of Hermione and because Harry had known, thanks to his scar, that something bad had happened to Professor Snape. It was better that they had been informed. They would probably have tried to break into Severus' rooms otherwise. Ginny on the other hand might be just as persistent, he believed, but she would understand when he explained the situation as best as he could. Or so he hoped.

When they entered his rooms, Ginny dropped her school bag by the door before plopping down on the couch. Remus smiled as she motioned for him to join her. It was going to be difficult keeping that secret. She was not as forceful as her brother or Harry, but she had her ways.

"I can't tell you what has happened to Severus, only that he is ... under the weather," said Remus before she could try and interrogate him. He felt silly using Dumbledore's own words.

"You can't tell me?" she asked.

"No, the headmaster doesn't want any more people than necessary knowing," he answered rather sternly.

"That makes it sound rather serious," Ginny commented.

"Perhaps it is," he said.

"And Hermione?" she inquired.

"She wanted to take care of him," Remus told her. There was no harm in Ginny knowing that. It was probably rather obvious to her.

"She does that a lot, doesn't she?" questioned Ginny, thinking of the injuries Severus had suffered in the prison realm and sliding closer to Remus. He slipped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I suppose so," he agreed.

Ginny was content to sit there for a long time, letting Remus run his fingers through her hair and resting her cheek again his chest. So many questions that she wanted to ask him ... and yet she knew that he would not willingly answer any of them. She wanted to ask him why her professors seemed so anxious, and if the next battle, perhaps the last battle, was coming soon. But she did not want to see his eyes grow any more sad or concerned than they already were.

After a few minutes the gentle caressing motion of his fingers ceased. Ginny realized that he had fallen asleep. She was glad. Remus looked so tired. Maybe a little nap would fix that. She moved a little closer to before more comfortable, considering the possibility of resting her own eyes.

Remus muttered incomprehensibly as she did so, forcing Ginny to stifle a small giggle. Sometimes she wondered if his years were beginning to tell on him, but she always attributed to the stress of the times and to his work in the end. After all, Remus was only five years older than her brother Bill, give or take a few months. Not old at all.

"You should probably go and study or something," he said sleepily as she snuggled closer.

"I want to stay with you."

"Until dinner then?"

"As long as you'll let me stay," she replied.

"All right," he mumbled before drifting off again.