Trusting the Enemy

Chapter Five

A long silence followed this announcement. Seven pairs of eyes stared at the red-headed girl in front of them.

Finally, Lily broke the tension. “Er..Ali..are you feeling alright....?” Her voice trailed off, unable to think of the right words to say.

Peter heard one of his friends, probably James, snort with unmistakable derision. Frankly, Peter agreed with him. There was no possible way, at least not what after Sirius had said...unless...

“Her pulse,” Peter said suddenly, knowing he must sound stupid. Six heads snapped around to look at him. Peter could almost hear the silent “Huh?” echoing through their minds.

“Her pulse,” Peter said again, thinking that it should by now be obvious what he was referring to. All present except McShanen stared stupidly at him, faces showing they were still incomprehensive of his meaning. Not even James or Sirius had come to the same conclusion Peter had. Peter mentally sighed. His friends, despite their brilliance, often never realised the obvious.

“Didn’t anyone think to check her pulse?!” Peter snapped. Understanding dawned on their faces, one by one. A silence following this sudden collective burst of realisation answered Peter’s question perfectly. The answer was no.

“I’m surrounded by incompetent imbeciles,” Peter muttered darkly.

“You weren’t there,” Carmen shot back. “You don’t know what it was like.”

“As memory serves,” Remus said acidly, “neither do you. After all, one usually cannot see much when one is passed out on the floor.”

Carmen turned an interesting shade of scarlet. She apparently didn’t have a comeback, a definite first. But then, Peter realised, the embarrassment must have driven that from her mind. Perfect. The Fantastic Four of Gryffindor was without their primary ammunition.

Peter would have loved to have taken this chance to pay back all the insults Carmen had hissed at him over the years, but, upon reflection, decided that this really wasn’t the best of time.

Carmen, ashamed, beckoned and muttered something to Lily and Jen, who nodded in agreement, the latter’s facing darkening slightly. James, in turn, motioned for the rest of the Marauders to come closer, almost in a huddle like the ones he used for Quidditch practice.

“Look, we should probably leave now, before Filch comes to see what all the racket is about,” he said logically. “Agreed,” Remus put in, his tone serious, and he glanced over to the Gryffindors with a look of pure contempt, adding, “After all, it’s not like we’re going to get much done with them hanging around. Sirius murmured something that Peter couldn’t hear; he was busy looking over to where Allison was standing to pay any attention to his friends.

There wasn’t something quite right about her. Maybe it was her hair, or possibly even just the way she was standing. It was very un-McShanenish. And her tone of voice when she had announced that the girl was still alive - expressionless, filled with indifference. This didn’t mesh with what Peter had been told of her behaviour the night before. She should at least be in mildly emotional, if not in all out hysterics. But her composition now - so prim and proper, so militant......no, something was not quite right, and it seemed that he, Peter, was the only one noticing it.

*&*

Allison lay spread-eagled on her back staring up at the ceiling of the Hospital Wing. She couldn’t move at all. Her entire strength had been sapped out of her body as if by some invisible force.

She was drifting in and out of unconsciousness. She couldn’t concentrate at all. Her mind kept wandering, and half the time she swore she was having hallucinations.

Valiantly, she tried to sit up again, but she was unable to lift her head up more than an inch.

Collapsing again, she knew the last of her will power was gone, and finally surrendered herself to the force.

Everything went black.

*&*

“Oh, you poor dear, I had no idea you were still here.” The shrill voice of Madam Pomfrey woke Allison from her unconscious slumber. She opened her eyes, looking up at the worried nurse’s face blearily. Then, realisation hit her, and she tried to move an arm or a leg, anything...she was scared that it wouldn’t work, that she was still..possessed, she supposed was the right term for it....

She successfully managed to sit up.

“What time is it?” she asked groggily. “Seven thirty, dear,” Pomfrey replied, checking Allison’s pulse.

“What!?” Allison exclaimed, all sleepiness gone. How long had she been trapped by that force?

Allison struggled out of the grasp of Madam Pomfrey,who was placing a hand on Allison’s forehead to see if she was feverish.

“Hold still, dear, I’m not done with you, yet,” Pomfrey told her, gentle but firm. Her grip on Allison’s wrist tightened. “But..my friends..surely, they’re worried...” Allison protested. Madam Pomfrey frowned thoughtfully. “I haven’t seen any of you friends yet today, except for McKinnons, who left two hours ago. I had thought I’d seen you leave only a few minutes after her - I must have been mistaken. One can so easily confuse shadows with students at that time of the morning.”

Allison, ignoring this last bit, felt slightly indignant - none of them were worried about her? Not even after....what had exactly happened last night? Allison thought hard. Blood...screams...terrible darkness..... Allison shivered involuntarily, and Madam Pomfrey’s hand flew to check her temperature again, lest she had missed something..

Then, it hit her. The girl. Maggie. Maggie had been murdered, and everyone had suspected, her, Allison...

Allison felt sick with fear and dread. Her insides twisted at the memory, and she swallowed hard to prevent herself from throwing up. A shudder ran down her spine...she wanted to go see Lily and Jen and Carmen...they would know how to make her feel better, they would tell her it was okay, that nobody was going to suspect her, and that it would all just clear up....

“There you go, dear, everything seems to check out,” Pomfrey told her warmly, unaware of Allison’s internal turmoil. “You can leave when you’d like. Excuse me, but I’ve got a Ravenclaw fifth year with a broken wrist...it’s that Quidditch, they insist on playing, despite the risks.....” Madam Pomfrey rushed off, muttering to herself.

Allison sat there for a few minutes, trying to absorb it all in. Madam Pomfrey had acted as if nothing had happened last night, but Allison knew better. Allison knew what had happened, knew that she could never forget the terrible scene.... She tried to push the ghastly images out of her mind, but they kept popping up...

“So,” a voice said, in a conversational tone, “have you asked about the girl yet?”

Allison’s head snapped around, and she found herself face to face once again with Ankou.

Ankou...Allison had forgotten about her...or, more precisely, had never even considered that she had returned for real. Allison had thought she was merely a hallucination, induced by the sleeping potion Madam Pomfrey had given her. Never once had Allison actually considered the validity of her existence.

Ankou, as if reading Allison’s mind, looked hurt that Allison was surprised to see her. “You doubted my existence,” she said, pouting slightly. “You didn’t believe it was really me..” her eyes narrowed slightly, and she suddenly looked very menacing “For that, you will pay.”

Allison felt a hot flash of pain shoot through her body, and she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. Then, another burst of agony spread through her nerves, and this time Allison cried out, her eyes brimming over with tears.

“Please..stop...” she begged. She had forgotten Ankou’s moments of extreme violence...and her punishments for disobedience...

“Now,” Ankou's said coldly, in reply to Allison’s plea, “now you do not doubt my existence.” Allison shook her head dumbly, afraid of Ankou’s wrath.

“Good. Now, about the girl...Maggie....” Ankou's began. Allison nodded. “The dead girl,” she said softly, feeling numb.

Ankou looked at her strangely. Then, a slow, malicious grin spread over her face.

“No. You doubt my powers, my promises. Did not I say I would restore life to her? I have upheld my oath. She is alive.”

*&*

Carmen jiggled her foot impatiently. Allison had been gone for nearly half and an hour. She had said that the check up would only take a few minutes..what was taking her so long?

Carmen felt nervous. Suppose something was really wrong with Allison, something she hadn’t told her friends about. Suppose she had suffered some sort of traumatic emotional shock that would slowly drive her insane, until she lost all sense of who she was....

Oh, be logical! Carmen snapped to herself. Allison had seemed fine when she had been subjected to an intense interrogation on the topic of her announcement.

But then, the crazy ones always seem the most normal......Carmen quickly ran over the list of psychological diseases with denial as a symptom.

The minutes inched by. Carmen felt herself growing more worried and frustrated by the minute. She went over the statistics and sequence of events about the attack, trying to piece together the clues, arrange them into some sort of logical order or theory...

Blood, shock, terrible, terrible screams..... Carmen shook her head. It all went black after that; she supposed she must have fainted then. It was a pity - even with the detailed accounts of both Lily and Jen she still wouldn’t know as much as she would have should she have merely employed her gag reflex and stiffened her bottom lip.

Still....Carmen was struck by a sudden thought. The attack scene, the wounds and the manner in which they were inflicted....yes, it all seemed to fit.

The more she dwelled on the possibility, the more likely it became.

It was time to get that book out again.

Getting up, Carmen crossed the slowly-filling common room. No one had been down to breakfast - classes weren't scheduled for today, and so many students chose to have a bit of a lie-in. Indeed, her group had received many inquiries as to why they were up so early - and without Allison, too. The girls had declined comment - the rest of the school would know soon enough, no doubt there would be an announcement made at breakfast. Carmen shuddered at the prospect. Poor Allison, no doubt she would come under some suspicion...

Well, Carmen just can’t let that happen, can she? Carmen thought to herself. She always thought to herself in the third person, and referred to herself often as ‘Carmen’, or ‘she’. It drove her friends batty. She had been better about it this year, though...but, really, Carmen could talk any way Carmen wanted to.

Carmen quickly ran over a list of psychological diseases involving referring to oneself in the third person. The list was rather long.
*&*

Carmen stroked the binding of the book lovingly, turning it over in her hands and smoothing the leather cover. She traced the red-inscripted title with her index finger, then pocketed the volume.

She thought back to Allison - and hoped that her friend would understand if she was not to be found waiting for her in the common room when she arrived back from the Hospital Wing.

But she was doing this for Allison. After all, if she proved correct in her theory, then it would wipe all suspicions of guilt over Maggie’s attack from the minds of all Hogwarts students, teachers and staff.

Oh, she hoped she was right...but there was only one way to find out.

It was time to head to her favorite spot: the library.

*&*

Saraphina was restless. It had been an hour and a half since the boys had arrived back in the common room. They had discussed the goings on thoroughly, Peter even adding his bit about McShanen not seeming quite right, to which no one could offer an explanation besides a rather obvious one suggested by Juliet - that it wasn’t Allison at all, merely someone posing as her. But this theory was soon dismissed as no one was able to offer an reason why anyone would want to do this.

She looked around the still half-empty common room. Juliet and Narcissa had taken residence in the good leather chairs by the fire place, and were discussing homework, boys and, for some inexplicable reason, biting tea cups.

Narcissa and Juliet were Saraphina’s closest friends. Both were very different, yet they seemed to always be on the same wavelength. They knew each other’s every single thought, and could always anticipate each other’s moves. And though they loved Saraphina, she often felt left out of their silent conversations. Maybe she just wasn’t best friend material.

Narcissa was rich and had a good family name - Nott. She was destined to marry a rich man who had an even better family name, probably someone in Voldemort’s service. Narcissa liked to take things at face value, and rarely questioned anything. Not the cleverest of the group, the Marauders often tormented her with ‘dumb blonde’ jokes. But they were far off target - Narcissa had a relatively quick mind, she just never was one to come up with brilliant conspiracies.

Juliet was dark, in more ways than one. For many hours she had studied black magic and curses. She wanted to be in Voldemort’s service when she had graduated from Hogwarts, despite the fact that it was rumoured he allowed no women into his inner circle. Juliet vowed to change that. Often secretive, Juliet could hide things even from Narcissa. Extremely moody, everyone in Slytherin knew to stay away from Juliet on a bad day, or she might just decide to practice one of her latest acquired curses on whoever annoyed her.

Saraphina shook her head slightly as talk turned to the attack...Narcissa thought it was perfectly horrible (she disliked violence - a hardship for when she married that Death Eater) and Juliet (morbid as always) was of the opinion that it had happened for a reason, and if we all would just leave well enough alone and let the attacker continue, then we might get lucky. Maybe one of the Gryffindor girls would be next.

Nothing could phase Juliet, Saraphina decided. Not even a murder.

But it wasn't a murder, was it? Saraphina mentally reminded herself.

Saraphina looked around for the seventh year Slytherin boys, and her eyes came to rest on the group of four in a corner, huddled around something on a table, what she didn’t know. They were whispering to one another, and, ashamed of herself though she was, Saraphina struggled to listen, staring at them in concentration.

Suddenly, James looked up, and their eyes met. Saraphina, realizing at once how compromising the situation was, gave a little wave, acing as though she had been trying got capture James’ attention for the past few minutes.

James mouthed something to Sirius, Remus and Peter, who were all by now looking at Saraphina questioningly. They nodded, and James got up, striding across the common room and settling himself in a chair across from Saraphina at one of the tables.

“So,” he spoke in hushed tones, “what do you think of our little excitement this morning. You know, I never really got to hear your opinion. Yours alone, I mean.”

Saraphina was secretly touched. She never really showed it, but she loved James very much indeed. Somehow, he didn't seem to need to be told - he knew already.

Still, she couldn’t help but be incredulous that he had deemed that morning, and nights, events as “our little excitement”.

Saraphina spread her palms in a gesture of helplessness. “I don’t know,’ she said quietly. “It’s like nothing I’ve ever dealt with before.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Really. How completely fascinating - we’ve invented a problem our Saraphina can’t solve.”

Saraphina felt slightly miffed, but didn’t show it. She liked it when he teased her. And besides, she though she had just remembered something...something she had read long ago....

“I don’t know,” Saraphina repeated. “I have this feeling that I’ve heard about this phenomena before, but I can’t remember where, or when.....it’s so frustrating. Like it’s there, but I just can’t seem to reach it.”

Saraphina looked up at him in pleading. James took her in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“It'll be alright. You’ll remember. It’ll just take time,” James reassured her. Saraphina looked doubtful.

“I hope so,” she said fervently.

James leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“I know so.”

James kissed Saraphina again, this time on the mouth, his lips lingering on hers.

There was a muffled snickering from behind them, and James pulled back from the kiss in annoyance, glaring at the rest of the seventh-year Slytherins, who were all staring at this public display of affection. Though it was well-known that James and Saraphina were a couple, they usually shared their more intimate moments for a private setting.

James flashed the nosy intruders a rude sign, and then turned back to his girlfriend. But Saraphina had jumped to her feet. The kiss had triggered a distant memory, and with it a flash of understanding.

“Phinny, what’s wrong?” James asked. ‘Phinny’ was James‘s pet name for her, and it was forbidden of him to speak it outside their circles of friends.

Saraphina was meanwhile struggling with the long-forgotten sensations the kiss had awakened - and the realisation that had come with them.

“I’ve just understood something about the attack!” she exclaimed, face flushed, breathless in her excitement. “I’ve got to get to the library!” and she ran out of the common room. Her friends watched her go, eyebrows arched in incredulity. Saraphina did not get excited or run or shout - even if Hogwarts had caught on fire and was nearly burnt to the ground, she would still walk calmly away.

James stood flabbergasted for a moment, then turned to the other Marauders, who began to silently laugh at his expression.

“Thank you guys, thanks a bunch,” James said sarcastically, glaring at Peter as he let out a snigger. Narcissa giggled.

*&*

Saraphina silently slunk into the library, heading for the Restricted Section. She didn’t have to worry about making up an alibi for taking a Dark Magic book without permission. Professor Huan would do that for her.

But something caught her eye before she could reach the forbidden shelves. A girl, sitting in a window seat, reading.

Saraphina ducked into the Magical History section, then crept forward softly, peering out between shelves. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was acting like a criminal, but some inner instinct told her not to be seen. Saraphina, though seemingly logical, always trusted her instincts. They had never failed her yet.

It was the McKinnons girl. She was reading a book covered in smooth black leather, a title spelt out in red lettering of an almost metallic quality.

Saraphina read the title without even thinking of what it meant. Strange, she thought. What would a girl like McKinnons be doing with a book like this?

Then the reality of what this meant hit Saraphina. Hard.

The girl couldn’t have caught on, she couldn’t....Saraphina shook her head slightly, trying to collect her thoughts.

She read the title again, this time out loud.
“‘The Devil Made Me Do It’: A Guide to the Demons and Angels of the Supernatural and Beyond.”

Saraphina felt her world start to come apart at the seams.