The Talisman of Monguk

Chapter 23: The Dark Lord

Back at Headquarters, the women didn't have much time for grief. The Weasley twins, being the youngest of the fighters, were assigned to the supply line. Using the cauldron Portkey, they traveled back and forth between Grimmauld Place and the front, replenishing supplies for the soldiers. Molly was overjoyed to see her boys and left off her crying. Fred and George gave brief reports of the happenings on the battlefield. The women collected bandages, medicine, food, and fresh water for the troops, filling the cauldron repeatedly and sending it back with the boys.

The three women bustled about the kitchen at Grimmauld Place. Every cauldron, tureen, kettle, or vessel that could be scavenged was in use. Dozens of knives moved of their own accord, peeling and chopping mountains of potatoes and carrots. Molly browned the beef for the stew in a huge cauldron that hung over the flames in the massive fireplace. Angela stood beside her, sautéing large quantities of onions, mushrooms, and garlic. Several other cauldrons hung beside her, their contents bubbling. Eudora moved among the kettles, dumping in mounds of vegetables. Then her fingers sprinkled in savory herbs and seasonings. Fred and George entered the kitchens, carrying an enormous sack bulging with loaves of fresh bread. Molly looked up from her cooking, pausing only long enough to bark orders to her two boys.

"Oh, good," she remarked. "You've got the bread. Fill up that cauldron and take it to the front." She pointed to the only vessel in the room not in use. "Move quickly. We'll need that Portkey to transport this stew when you're done."

The boys approached the cauldron and exchanged mischievous looks. Fred slipped a parcel from under his jacket and dropped in it the kettle. The package hit the bottom of the iron pot with a soft clang. With a wary glance, George stuffed the sack of bread in on top. The cauldron expanded briefly to accommodate the huge load and then returned to its normal dimensions. Hearing the noise, Molly's head spun around to face them. Her eyes bored into theirs with a suspicious glare.

"What are you two up to?" she queried, approaching them both and eyeing the cauldron with distrust.

"Nothing, Mum," Fred replied, his face the picture of innocence.

"Yeah, we're just following orders," George added, with a sideways glance at his twin.

Molly surveyed them both with her hands on her hips, her lips very tight. She looked at the cauldron and bent down. Her arm rummaged through the contents and pulled out the parcel. She cast the boys a scathing glare.

"Then how do you explain this?" she asked, waving the brown package under their noses.

"How did that get there?" Fred exclaimed, feigning a look of surprise.

"It wasn't me," George chimed with a shrug, "Honestly!"

Molly let loose an exasperated sigh and opened the parcel. When she saw the contents, her mouth hung agape for a moment or two. "A swamp kit!" she exclaimed. She cast the boys another scolding look. Her finger wagged at them. "That's all Dumbledore needs on top of this battle. Imagine you two turning the camp into a swamp."

"It isn't for our camp," Fred offered with a sly grin.

Molly clucked her tongue. Her face grew very red. "What?" she shouted. "Your father will hear about this. I don't want you boys skulking anywhere near that enemy camp. Do you hear me?" The boys cringed at their mother's tongue-lashing. Without pause, she continued her diatribe. "Dumbledore assigned you to the supply line to keep you out of trouble. If I hear that you've set even one toe out of line, there will be hell to pay. I would have thought that you'd learned your lesson after that mess at the cathedral. I'll never be able to hold my head up in front of Father Boniface again. And look at this gray," she added, pointing to a band of gray in her red hair. "This is all because of you two. Oh, the worry you cause me." She shook a finger at them again.

Fred stared back at her with a sheepish look. George averted his eyes, avoiding her glare. Molly's own eyes suddenly filled with tears. She tucked the parcel into her apron pocket and pulled both boys into a soggy embrace.

"Now go on with you," she sobbed, releasing them. "Get this bread to the troops."

"Yes, Mum," George replied.

Fred and George shrugged their shoulders and exchanged looks. Fred took out his wand and prepared to activate the Portkey. Molly dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief and turned back to her cooking, the parcel still visible as a bulge in her apron. Just before they left, George's hand slipped into his own pocket. He nudged Fred and winked. Fred looked over to see a corner of brown paper peeking out from the pocket. A wily grin erupted on his face, as the twins and the cauldron disappeared from sight.

* * * * * * * * * * *

By evening, the women were all quite exhausted. They sat in the kitchen, sipping tea and taking a well-earned rest. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, appeared. The large crimson songbird dropped a packet on the table and disappeared. Angela rushed forward and grabbed the packet, opening it eagerly.

"What is it?" asked Molly with equal curiosity.

"It's from Dumbledore," Angela said, scanning the letter. "A report on the battle."

"What does he say?" Molly prompted, leaning forward to see for herself.

"It says that they've lost quite a few fighters," Angela said, her eyes fixed on the letter. "But they're holding their own." She handed the parchment to Molly and peered into the envelope. "Wait!" she added. "There is something else in here. It's a letter for you, Molly, and one for me."

She handed her companion the letter. Molly tore it open and read.

"It's from Bill," Molly replied, sitting back down and dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief.

Angela sat down and tore open her envelope. It contained a letter, an old dog-eared photograph, and a ring. It was from Lupin. She read the letter, as tears trailed down her face.

My darling Angela,

I survive. But there is no living without you. In my zeal to protect you, I have condemned us both to a soulless existence. What I would not give for a second chance.

I enclose my ring. Take it as a pledge of my love and of my desire to make you my wife should you choose to accept me. I hope for the day when I may see you again and place it upon your finger.

I enclose a photograph. It is for you to keep in memory of me, should I not return. All that I treasure most in this world should be together in one place.

I take comfort in the knowledge that you are safe. For your sake, I'm glad that you are not here. I love you.

Forever yours,

Remus

She pulled out the photograph and gasped. It was one that Lupin carried with him always. She had seen it many times. She recalled the first time that he showed it to her.

One evening, he had taken her on a romantic stroll through the streets of Hogsmeade Village. They walked aimlessly for a while. Then Lupin steered them down the main street and up a narrow winding lane to a ramshackle house on a lonely hill above the village. The house looked as if no one had lived there for a quite some time. The exterior paint was peeling and the windows were boarded shut. It was the Shrieking Shack.

Lupin lifted the latch on the front gate. It creaked and groaned as he opened it, and they walked through. They sat down on the crooked front stoop under a sagging awning and looked out at the night sky. After a few minutes, Lupin took this aging photograph out of his pocket. He uttered "Lumos!" and a light glowed at the end of his wand. He gazed at the dog-eared photograph. Angela peered over his shoulder at it. In it were four young men. One of them was tall and handsome with long black hair. The second bore a striking resemblance to Harry Potter with short black hair that stuck up at odd angles. The third was a small mousy-looking boy. The fourth was a much younger Remus Lupin.

"So this is your old gang?" Angela asked.

"Yes, this is Sirius Black," he said, pointing to the handsome wizard. "And this is James Potter," he said, pointing to the second.

"I could have guessed that," she said with a giggle. "Harry looks just like him."

"Yes, except for the eyes," Lupin replied grinning. "Harry has his mother's eyes." He pointed to the small boy. "And this is Peter Pettigrew."

Angela noticed the hardness in Lupin's voice.

As they sat on the porch that night, Lupin regaled her with tales of his adventures with his friends. As he spoke, his eyes glowed in the wand light. He smiled and laughed. The cares of his adult years seemed to melt away. Angela sat watching, mesmerized, thinking how handsome he was when he smiled.

Now, months later, her face glowed with a blithe expression at the memory. Her fingers stroked the photograph. Then she replaced the picture in the envelope and tucked it away in the pocket of her dress.

She slipped the ring on her finger. The golden band was bulky with a garnet mounted in the center and the Gryffindor lion engraved on the side. It was too large for her and looked ridiculous on her slender hand. Admiring it on her finger, her lips smiled. Then she slipped the ring off and threaded it on the chain of her locket. She fastened the chain back around her neck and tucked ring and locket safely down inside the bodice of her dress, close to her heart.

She took out a piece of parchment and began a letter to Lupin. She had just picked up her quill, when she heard a pop and the voice of Severus Snape calling her name. Startled, her eyes looked up and she saw Snape's head floating in the midst of a green flame in the fireplace. She leapt to her feet, ran to the fireplace, and knelt before the hearth to speak with him.

"Severus, what is it?"

"Potter!" Snape spat with a scornful glare. "He came to me this evening with some fanciful tale about the headmaster and the Dark Lord. He is under the delusion that the Dark Lord has set a trap for Dumbledore."

"I don't think so," Angela rejoined, a puzzled look on her face. "We've just had a letter from Dumbledore. He's on the battlefield with the Resistance. He made no mention of You-Know-Who. In fact, things seem to be going better then expected."

Hearing Harry's name, Molly ran over to the fireplace too. "What's this about Harry?"

"He's had another vision," Snape said with a self-satisfied sneer. "Apparently, he has little talent for Occlumency. Even Headmaster Dumbledore has not been able to teach him to close his mind to the suggestions of the Dark Lord."

"What sort of vision?" Molly probed with a fretful expression.

"He seems to believe that the Dark Lord has imprisoned the headmaster," Snape explained. "I have told him that this is preposterous, but he refuses to believe me." He scowled.

"I cannot answer for You-Know-Who's intentions," Angela retorted. "But Dumbledore does not seem to be under his power now. Even so, would you like me to send a message to the front?"

"That will not be necessary," Snape rejoined. "I will handle it."

With a pop, he disappeared from the fireplace. Molly and Angela looked at each other with mystified expressions.

"That's very odd!" Molly mused.

* * * * * * * * * * *

A couple of hours later, as they were about to retire for the night, Snape reappeared in the fireplace. He seemed much more agitated than before.

"Potter is gone!" he snapped. "I have just been to the Gryffindor common room. His friends tried to hide it from me, but I forced it out of them. Harry has gone off to rescue the headmaster and he has taken several other Hogwarts students with him."

"WHAT?" Angela and Molly shouted in unison.

Then they both fired questions at Snape simultaneously.

"One at a time please," Snape replied with a look of impatience.

"Who did he take with him?" asked Molly, knitting her brow.

"From what I gathered," he replied. "Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Weasley. I am sorry, Molly." He shot her an apologetic glance.

Molly gasped when she heard her youngest children mentioned and clasped her hand over her mouth.

"Where did they go?" asked Angela.

"To the Riddle Mansion," Snape explained with a grim expression. "The Dark Lord's headquarters."

Both women gasped with alarm this time.

"Then we must go there at once," Angela rejoined. "I hope that we are not too late."

"They are my children. I am coming too," Molly added. Her fists were clenched and her face wore a look of grim determination.

"I must stay here at Hogwarts for the sake of the students," Snape said. "I am sending Ravena to you. I have given her the directions." He cast them a warning look. "I should not have to say this, but be careful."

Snape's head disappeared from the fireplace with a pop. Angela turned to her mother, but before she could say anything, her mother spoke first.

"Go on, dears," Mrs. Hawkins urged, shooing them toward the door. "You must go now. I'll take care of things here. And I'll send a message to Albus. He'll need to know about this."

Without wasting a minute, Molly and Angela grabbed their cloaks and ran out the door of Grimmauld Place. Ravena was waiting for them in the square outside. Angela ran to her out of breath.

"Severus said that he gave you directions?" she inquired.

"Yes, here they are," Ravena answered, holding out a parchment covered in Snape's handwriting.

They each examined it. Then they nodded to each other and Disapparated with a crack!

* * * * * * * * * * *

Ravena, Molly, and Angela reappeared moments later behind a grove of yews near a small church. Beyond the church was an overgrown graveyard. An old dilapidated manor house stood overlooking them both on a nearby hill.

The women looked around, wondering where to begin their search, when they saw six figures emerge from the manor house and stumble down the hill toward the graveyard. They ducked behind the trees and watched. As the group approached, they recognized the features of Harry and his friends. They were bound and gagged. A small wheezing wizard with a pointy nose trotted behind them, prodding them forward with his wand.

"Pettigrew!" Angela gasped, recognizing him from Lupin's photograph.

"Let me handle this," Ravena whispered. "You two stay here just in case."

Ravena crept out from behind the yews and dashed behind a gravestone. When the group got close enough, she cast a spell at Pettigrew. He crumbled to the ground. The students jumped with alarm. Their wide eyes looked in her direction, but they relaxed when they recognized their Dark Arts professor. Ravena waved her wand again and the ropes fell off of their wrists.

"Professor Hawkins!" exclaimed Neville, pulling the gag from his mouth.

"Shh! There isn't time!" Ravena urged, her blue eyes scanning the surroundings. "All of you must get out of here and return to Hogwarts immediately. Disapparate!"

"But, Professor," Hermione protested. "We're not allowed until we've passed the exam."

"But you've been practicing in class for several weeks," Ravena coaxed. "And all of you could pass the test. This is an emergency. I give you permission." She noticed the look of anxiety on Neville's face and added, "I'll help you, Neville, if you'd like. Now go!"

"But, Professor, the rules state..." Hermione persisted.

"All right, I don't have time for a debate," Ravena interrupted, with an impatient wave of her hand. "I suppose if we're going to break the rules, then I'll be the one to do it. Help me find a suitable Portkey." She glanced around the graveyard, looking for an appropriate object.

"But what about Dumbledore?" Harry protested. "Voldemort's imprisoned him in there. We saw him."

The others nodded their heads in agreement. Ravena looked doubtful.

"I don't know what you saw," Ravena insisted. "But Headmaster Dumbledore is leading the Resistance on the battlefields of Marshwood."

"That's what Snape said," Harry retorted, his eyes flashing.

"Professor Snape," she corrected, picking up a sizeable chunk of marble. "And he was right. You've been tricked. We must leave here now!"

Before she could utter another word, Ravena was hit from behind by a hex. The stone slipped from her fingers and hit the hard earth with a thud. Ravena slumped to the ground beside it, lifeless. Watching from behind the hedge, Angela gasped and prepared to run to the aid of her cousin. Molly immediately grabbed her and pulled her back out of sight. Angela suppressed a sob and froze with terror.

From up on the hill, they heard a cold cruel laugh and Lord Voldemort emerged from the house, followed by an enormous snake. Voldemort was dressed in a hooded black robe that covered him from head to toe. Only his face was visible. It was frightening and flat with red snake-like eyes.

The students shrieked when they saw him and scattered, but Voldemort was quicker. He waved his wand. His curse lifted Harry and his friends off of the ground and hurled them against the tombstones. Then magical cords materialized and secured them to the gravestones. The snake slithered down the hill and circled Ravena's body.

"No, Nagini," the Dark Lord hissed. "Not yet."

The snake slithered off and circled the students.

"Who is she?" Voldemort demanded, turning Ravena over to look at her face. His long white finger stroked her cheek.

Angela's face flushed with indignation. She raised her wand and prepared to attack, but Molly restrained her.

"She's our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Harry answered, his voice shaking with anger. "Is she dead?"

"No, not yet," Voldemort replied, his red eyes alight with malice. "I never kill if there is a possibility that someone may be of use to me. She shall serve as the perfect bait for a certain rat at Hogwarts." He laughed. "She is obviously more talented than this worthless servant of mine," he added, savagely kicking the prone form of Pettigrew. "We shall see how easily she can be persuaded to help."

"She'll never help you," Harry yelled, his face contorted with indignation.

"Oh, you will find that I can be very persuasive," Voldemort boasted. "Just like I was with you, you simple boy. Your professor was right. You have been tricked. It was all just a ruse to bring you to me." A mirthless laugh escaped Voldemort's white lips.

"Your Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore may have prevented you from retrieving the talisman for me," he scorned. "But they were useful for other reasons. For instance, they revealed to me your affection for your old headmaster and his for you. Such feelings are for fools and the weak-minded. They can easily be exploited for my benefit, as you can see." He sneered.

"But we saw Dumbledore," Ginny protested, her voice insolent.

"Foolish little girl," he mocked. "You saw someone who looked like him. A stray bit of hair or beard is easy enough to obtain. And, with a little potion, even Wormtail here can look like Dumbledore." A long ghostly finger pointed at Pettigrew.

The eyes of all five students turned to stare at the Death Eater lying on the ground. Their faces reflected looks of horror and doubt.

"It was all part of my brilliant plan." Voldemort laughed again and continued, "I am tired of you, Potter, and your meddlesome ways. And that doddering old schoolmaster and his Order have been thwarting me for the past two years. I needed to get rid of you all.

"It was a simple plan really. Start a war with the help of my faithful Death Eaters to draw off Dumbledore and his followers. By the way, they will be utterly defeated. And while Dumbledore is occupied trying to save them, I brought you here to kill you once and for all."

"Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard in the world," Harry shouted. His brilliant green eyes flashed with defiance. "He will save them."

"Not this time, Potter," Voldemort mocked. "When I am finished with you, I will join my faithful on the battlefield. Dumbledore is growing old and feeble. He cannot stand against me and my dementors and giants. Oh, and should he leave his troops to come rescue you, his prize student, my troops are ready to descend upon his camp and slaughter them all in their sleep!" He laughed his cold high-pitched laugh.

Angela clenched her teeth and gripped her wand in her balled up fist. She wanted more than anything to strike out at him. She glanced over at Molly. Her companion's lips were clamped tight in anger too. But Molly shook her head. This was not the time for rash action.

The next instant, both women gasped with horror as Voldemort uttered an incantation. A wall of flames appeared, encircling him and the students, cutting them off from all outside help. Molly now nodded to Angela. Both women sent a volley of hexes against the wall to penetrate it, but the barrier blocked all of their spells. Realizing that their efforts were useless, the two women clung to each other for support and watched in helpless terror.

Inside the wall of fire, Voldemort mocked Harry and hissed, "Now, it is time for us to duel!"

Voldemort approached Pettigrew's limp body and searched through the handful of wands by his side.

"There," he said, showing Harry one of the wands. "I believe that this one is yours."

Harry nodded in affirmation. But, instead of giving him the wand, Voldemort snatched it back. Voldemort's long fingers caressed the wand. He gave a practice wave. Then his lips curled into a most unpleasant and disdainful grin.

"I shall keep this," Voldemort scorned, tucking Harry's wand into the pocket of his robes. "You shall duel with Wormtail's wand. I shan't make that mistake twice."

Then he threw Pettigrew's wand at Harry's feet. Voldemort waved his wand, cast a spell, and the ropes that bound Harry fell to the ground. Harry stooped down to pick up the wand and glanced around him. However, the ring of fire enclosed him. His friends were bound and unarmed, still guarded by the giant serpent. Ravena and Pettigrew lay unconscious. Outside the ring of flames, Angela was thinking hard.

"Molly, one of us must go back," she whispered. "We need to send a message to Dumbledore. We need to tell him of this plan. He'll know what to do."

"I'll go," Molly replied with grim determination. "I'll be back as soon as I can. I can't help my children by staying here."

She stepped out from behind the yews to a place where Harry could see her. The grave markers shielded her from Voldemort's view. She caught Harry's eye, nodded to him, and then Disapparated. As she left, she heard Harry's voice, talking to Voldemort.

"That's it, Harry! Stall for time!" she whispered, as the graveyard faded from view.