The Talisman of Monguk

Chapter 25: Wherever You Are

It was well after midnight in the fields of Marshwood. The Resistance had posted sentries outside their camp, as they tried to rest up for the next battle. In his tent, Lupin slept fitfully, tossing and turning on his cot. His sleep was punctuated by nightmares of battle and an unshakable feeling that Angela was in danger. In the midst of one such dream, he woke with a start and sat bolt upright in his bed.

"Angela!" he shouted.

Moody rolled over to face him. "Another bad dream?" Moody groused, wiping the sleep from his eye. "You've been restless all night. You'd better settle down or none of us will get any sleep."

"I could have sworn that I heard her voice," Lupin replied. "She's here. I know she's here."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Moody grumbled. "What would she be doing here? She's probably back at Grimmauld Place sleeping soundly. Which, by the way, is what I'd like to be doing."

Kingsley entered the tent He had just come off sentry duty. He looked agitated and approached the two men.

"Come on, you two. Get up," Kingsley commanded. "I have orders from Dumbledore. He'll be here in a minute."

Moody swung his legs over the edge of the cot with a groan and sat up. His wooden leg made an alarming clunking sound as it smacked against the metal bed frame. Lupin jumped out of his cot, pulled on his boots, and grabbed for his wand. Both men wore concerned expressions.

"First, Fawkes gets hit with a hex and goes up in flames," groused Moody, fishing around for his magical eye. "Then all the outside communication channels get cut off. So what's wrong now?"

"Molly's just been here with a message from Grimmauld Place," Kingsley replied. "She said something about Harry being in trouble. She's talking with Dumbledore now."

"What kind of trouble?" Lupin asked, furrowing his brow.

"I don't know," Kingsley answered. "I was sent out of the tent before I could catch any details. But from Molly's tone of voice, it can't be good."

"Are you certain that it was Molly?" Moody growled. "It could be a trick. You can't be too cautious, you know?"

Kingsley nodded. "Yes, I'm certain that it was Molly," he remarked, shooting Moody an exasperated look. "She scolded me like I was one of her boys. Then she told me that if I didn't take her to Dumbledore straight away, I was never coming to her house for meatballs again."

"That's Molly, all right," Lupin said with a smirk.

"Besides," Kingsley added, "she knew the password."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Dumbledore. He was dressed in his traveling cloak and carried his staff. His expression was very grave. His piercing blue eyes had a steely glint in them.

"Good. You're both awake," Dumbledore said. "Molly has just been here with news."

The men listened with anxious expressions on their faces.

"There isn't time to explain, but I have to leave immediately," he continued. "Molly has informed me that the enemy expects my departure and plans to attack tonight, the minute that I am gone. I have planned for this eventuality, but I will need your help."

Dumbledore turned to Moody and handed him the staff. "Alastor, you will take my staff. With it and the Fortification Charm, you will ward off the dementors and the giants. As long as you hold the staff upright, the charm will stay in effect."

"Since Alastor will not be able to fight, the rest of the Order must protect him," Dumbledore said, fixing his gaze on Lupin and Kingsley. "I shall return as soon as I am able. While I am gone, the fate of the Resistance lies with you. Good luck."

Dumbledore glanced from man to man. His face was careworn and his eyes tired. All three men were full of questions, but knew better than to ask now.

"Yes, sir," they replied.

Dumbledore then turned and departed. Moody popped in his magical glass eye. Then he and Lupin roused the other members of the Order. Fred and George jumped out of their cots with eager looks, anxious to join in the action. Spotting them, Moody fixed his magical eye on them with a glare.

"Oh, no, not you two," Moody barked, wagging a gnarled finger at them. "Your mother will have my head on a platter if anything happens to you." He reached in his satchel, pulled out a sheer cloak made of a shimmering gossamer fabric, and tossed it to them. "Take my invisibility cloak and stay here. If anyone enters, hide under it, and stay quiet." His magical eye bored into them. "And don't even think of leaving this tent. Believe me, I'll know if you do," he added with a wink.

George caught the invisibility cloak. Both boys stared back at Moody with innocent faces and nodded. But the minute Moody's back was turned, their faces erupted into those wily grins. Once the tent was empty, they tossed the cloak over their heads and tore out the door after the others. Minutes later, the sentries posted outside the camp sounded the alarm. They were under attack!

Moody, Lupin, and the rest of the Order dashed to the clearing in the center of the camp. As they ran, they had to dodge other wizards emerging bleary-eyed from their tents, awoken from sleep by the trumpet blast. Enemy wizards charged into the camp as well with wands drawn, casting curses at all before them.

Moody ran to the center of the clearing. The members of the Order formed a tight circle around him to protect him with their wands at the ready. Moody raised Dumbledore's staff high above his head and yelled "EXPECTO POTENTES!" Then he plunged the tip of the staff into the dirt with all his might.

A blue light erupted from the handle of the staff and soared hundreds of feet into the air. It splintered into many beams, each traveling in a high arc before falling gracefully back to earth. It created a glowing canopy, like a tremendous translucent dome, that covered the encampment. Under it, the camp was illuminated with an unnatural daylight. Just outside its barrier, they could see the prowling forms of the dementors and the hulking forms of the giants, but neither could penetrate it.

Only those with magical ability could infiltrate the camp's defenses. Uttering an incantation, enemy witches and wizards passed through the barrier. They overran the camp, trampling supplies and toppling tents. At the lead were Bellatrix Lestrange and the rest of the Death Eaters. Bella screamed with rage when she spotted Moody with Dumbledore's staff.

"Get them!" she ordered, jabbing her finger toward Moody and his protectors.

The Death Eaters surged toward the clearing and engaged members of the Order in combat. A masked Lucius Malfoy chose Paul Hawkins as his target. As he faced off against Paul, he taunted him.

"It was bad enough when your father married a Muggle," Malfoy sneered. "But your sister with a werewolf? Could your family possibly sink any lower? It will be a privilege to rid the wizard community of filth like you."

Recognizing the voice, Paul replied through clenched teeth, "Well, Malfoy, you should know all about that. Filth is second nature to you."

Towering over Malfoy, Paul glared at his attacker with an expression of pure hatred. Malfoy returned his stare with equal loathing. Then the fighting began with a rapid-fire exchange of spells from both their wands. Flashes of light crisscrossed and collided in the air, as the curses flew. They were evenly matched. The dueling continued for some time without either one gaining an advantage.

Then Paul heard Tonks shout nearby. She had crossed their path in her own duel with another Death Eater. Distracted by her, Paul paused for just a moment to watch her. Malfoy studied Paul's face and his eyes narrowed behind his mask. Seizing the opportunity, he fired a Slashing Curse, but not at Paul. Instead, he aimed it at Tonks. As the spell hit, she gasped with surprise and crumbled to the ground.

"Tonks!" Paul cried with horror, watching helplessly as she fell. He turned back toward Malfoy, his face contorted with indignation and rage. "How could you?" he roared.

While firing spells, Paul charged and landed a kick with the full force of his weight against Malfoy's chest. The kick sent Malfoy hurtling backwards through the air. He landed heavily upon another wizard, taking him down also. As Malfoy struggled to his feet, Paul straightened up and taunted him back.

"How do you like that little Muggle trick, Malfoy? I learned that one from my sister."

He aimed a curse at Malfoy, who slumped back to the ground on top of the other wizard. Then Paul turned and ran to assist Tonks.

Meanwhile, a tall muscular Death Eater in a hood and mask challenged Lupin. He carried his wand in one hand and a long knife with a silver blade in the other.

"I've hunted and killed a lot of creatures in my time," he challenged with a slashing motion of his blade, "but nothing would give me so much pleasure as killing a werewolf." The Death Eater sniggered.

"Macnair! I should have known," replied Lupin with a steely voice.

Although a Death Eater and a good friend of the Malfoys, Walden Macnair worked for the Ministry of Magic. He was executioner on the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, a job much to his liking. He was a cunning and skilled hunter.

Macnair made the first move, a Slashing Curse at Lupin. Lupin blocked it and sent another spell back at Macnair. But the Death Eater closed in on his prey, waving his knife dangerously close to Lupin's face. Lupin backed away, sending hexes flying at Macnair.

As the two dueled, Macnair skillfully maneuvered Lupin away from the others and into the mess tent, where he hoped to trap him. He brandished his blade threateningly, uttering curses at the same time. Trying to escape his attacker, Lupin waved his wand at a chair and it flew at Macnair. The Death Eater ducked, but recovered immediately.

"Impedimenta!" Macnair's spell hit hard. Lupin was lifted into the air by the curse and landed on top of a large wooden table. He groaned and slid over onto the ground behind it. Macnair let loose a volley of spells at him, but Lupin was ready this time. He tipped the table over and hid behind it, using it as a shield. Macnair's curses bounced harmlessly off of the table in a shower of sparks. As Lupin peered from behind the table, Macnair flung the knife at him. He dove for cover and the knife sailed over his head, missing him by a fraction of an inch. Its blade hit a cupboard directly behind him with a thwack and stuck fast, embedded in the cupboard, still vibrating.

From behind the table, Lupin fired hexes over at the exposed body of Macnair. His spells hit and Macnair was thrown hard against the central support of the tent. The impact of the blow cracked the pole. The tent began to collapse around them. Lupin leapt over the table and dashed for the exit. As he ran, the falling pole grazed his forehead. He stumbled out of the tent, as the canvas settled over the thrashing form of the Death Eater. Lupin turned and aimed a curse at Macnair. The Death Eater's body went limp under the folds of the tent.

Lupin's head throbbed as he staggered forward, his breathing ragged from the duel. His fingers reached for his forehead. A trickle of blood dripped into his eyes. His hand brushed it away. He could not stop for that now. He turned back toward the clearing and ran to join the others.

Meanwhile, Fred and George had a hard time maneuvering under the cover of the invisibility cloak. With wizard soldiers charging through the camp all around them, it was difficult to avoid a collision. For safety, they skirted close to the tents, steering clear of open areas where they might be discovered.

They rounded the corner of the last tent and ran smack into two very hefty Death Eaters. The twins, being slight in build, bounced off the bodies of the much larger men and fell to the ground, entangled in the cloak. The two Death Eaters spun around with alarm. Their eyes stared with dumbfounded looks at the two disembodied pairs of legs in jeans and tennis shoes that wriggled on the ground in front of them.

As quickly as they could, Fred and George leapt to their feet and sprinted for the entrance to the nearest tent, trailing the invisibility cloak behind them. As the cloak peeled away, the two Death Eaters caught a glimpse of the twins. They remained just staring, stupefied for a moment. When they finally keened to what had happened, they took off after the boys in pursuit.

Fred and George entered the tent and ducked behind one of the cots, pulling the invisibility cloak back over them. From under the cloak, George eyed several pieces of bread and a half-eaten bowl of his mother's stew on the stand near the cot. He smirked and nudged his twin. George's fingers fished around in his pockets. He pulled out a small brown bag and emptied the contents onto the nightstand next to the stew. He suppressed a snigger, eyeing the candies that he'd left on the stand.

Moments later, the two hulky forms of the Death Eaters entered the tent with their wands drawn. Their eyes skimmed the room, searching for signs of the two boys. One of them stopped, his gaze fixed on the food.

"Look, Goyle," the Death Eater said, nudging his companion and pointing to the half-eaten meal. "They've left food. I'll bet their grub is better than that slop they feed us."

"And look," the second one added, licking his lips, "Sweets too."

The two Death Eaters surged forward, removed their masks, and hungrily stuffed their mouths with the remains of the meal, polishing off every last bit. When they finished, they looked up with satisfied expressions on their faces. Under the invisibility cloak, Fred and George had to stuff their fists in their mouths to contain their laughter.

In the next second, the contented expressions on the Death Eater's faces melted away into looks of distress, as their stomachs emitted debilitating growls. The first Death Eater clutched his abdomen, bent double, and retched. His companion clamped a hand over his backside, his eyes wide with disbelief and his mouth agape. Seconds later, both ran out of the tent, heading off in the direction of the latrine.

Under the invisibility cloak, Fred and George rolled on the floor, exploding in fits of mirth. When he could talk again, Fred turned to George.

"Just what type of sweets from our Skiving Snackboxes did you use?" Fred asked, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye.

"Puking Pastilles and Laxative Licorice," George answered, between guffaws. "And I think they ate six apiece."

"We've only ever tested them one at a time," Fred added with a snigger. "We never did a study on the cumulative effects of mass consumption."

"How stupid can you get?" George rejoined, lapsing into giggles again. "Crabbe and Goyle haven't got a chance with parents like that." He snorted. "It's a pity that Mum confiscated the swamp kit. That would have been brilliant."

Fred flashed his twin a mischievous grin. George looked over at him. His mouth dropped open for a moment and then twisted into an enormous smile.

"Wicked!" George exclaimed, as the two left the tent, safely concealed under the cover of the invisibility cloak.

With the members of the Order guarding him, Moody stood his ground and held the staff upright. Only once did a hex make it passed their defenses. It was a deflected spell that ricocheted wildly, before hitting Moody squarely in the back. He never saw the curse coming and it threw him off balance. With a look of utter amazement, he tottered and let go of the staff. The rod listed forward. For a moment, the blue light that had illuminated the camp flickered and the dome became transparent. Sensing the change, the dementors surged forward hungrily. Moody flailed his arms, trying to lay hold of the staff. He caught it, but overbalanced himself. Arthur turned and sprinted toward his friend. He grabbed hold of Moody and held him upright. Moody righted the staff and restored its defenses.

Suddenly, there was a great flash of light and Dumbledore Apparated right into the midst of the battle. His face was radiant and his eyes flashed with triumph. It was a marked change from the wizard who had left the camp hours before.

"Bellatrix Lestrange, we must speak," he shouted with a voice that rang powerfully throughout the camp.

All the fighting ceased and every eye turned to see who had spoken. Bella looked shaken by his appearance. Clearly, she had not anticipated his return.

"Voldemort is vanquished!" Dumbledore announced with a formidable expression on his face. His blue eyes were icy. His countenance was dreadful and terrifying to behold.

A cheer rang out from the ranks of the Resistance. An undercurrent of murmurs and fear spread like wildfire throughout the ranks of Voldemort's forces. Bella's eyes narrowed. Her cheeks blanched and then flushed with anger.

"NO! IT IS A LIE!" she screamed. "IT IS A FOUL TRICK!"

Malfoy, who was more calculating than Bella, approached Dumbledore. "If this is true," said Malfoy. "Then who has done this to him? The Dark Lord has taken precautions to ensure his immortality. He cannot be so easily killed."

"The same person who defeated him last time," Dumbledore answered.

"Potter?" Malfoy protested, his cold gray eyes flashing from behind the mask. "But he is just a boy. How can he defeat the most powerful wizard in the world?"

"I am afraid that will remain a mystery," Dumbledore replied, a sage smile on his lips. "But I saw Harry overcome Voldemort with my own eyes."

"And then Harry killed him?" Malfoy asked.

"No," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eye. "Harry did the most unexpected thing, he spared Voldemort's life."

Whispers and murmurs rustled through the crowd, but then abruptly ceased as Dumbledore continued.

"Voldemort was so incensed by this act of mercy that he took his own life. Apparently, his experiments with immortality were not completely successful."

"THAT IS A LIE!" Bella shrieked, shaking with fury.

"Is it?" Dumbledore challenged. "Then why is your master not here? If you don't believe me, just look at the Dark Mark on your own arm."

Bella and several of the Death Eaters pulled up their sleeves to inspect their left forearms. The burn mark, that once appeared so blackly etched in their skin, had faded to nothing. Bella opened her eyes wide in shock and disbelief.

"It can't be," she muttered, shaking her head and reexamining her arm. "My master," she sobbed. Then her expression grew hard and cold. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she turned on Dumbledore. "You killed him. You all killed him. AND I WILL HAVE VENGEANCE ON YOU ALL!"

She fired a volley of spells and the fighting began anew, but this time there was a marked difference. Many of the wizards that had been fighting on Voldemort's side suddenly turned on their comrades. Several of the Death Eaters also deserted the battle and Disapparated. Locked out of the battle and denied Voldemort's promised rewards, the giants lost interest and stomped off, the ground shaking in their wake. The tide of the battle had changed.

Now, even Bella had to concede defeat. But she would never surrender nor allow herself to be taken captive. Just before she Disapparated, she shook a defiant fist at Dumbledore.

"You've not seen the last of me," she shouted. "You may have won this round, but mark my words, I will have revenge!"

Now that Bella had abandoned them, all the remaining Death Eaters fled as well. Left without their commanders, pandemonium broke out among the rank and file of Voldemort's army. Many dropped their weapons in surrender. Others turned and sprinted for the borders of the encampment in flight. Sounds of splashing and cries of surprise met astounded ears. A large swamp had materialized around the periphery of the camp, cutting off their retreat. The Resistance easily rounded up their now soggy adversaries, fishing their cold and shivering bodies from the murky shallows of the swamp.

Cheers and shouts of victory erupted from the Resistance. They clapped each other on the back and hugged, shouting in triumph. They had won!

* * * * * * * * * * * *

By dawn, the first of the members of the Order trickled back to Grimmauld Place. As Molly remained at Hogwarts with Ron, only Eudora was at headquarters now. Dumbledore sent word that the students had been rescued and returned safely to the school. Eudora was unaware of her own daughter's predicament, believing her at Hogwarts with the others. Thus she busied herself making breakfasts of eggs, bacon, and toast for the returning warriors.

She listened with interest to their harrowing tales of battle and the news of Harry Potter and his defeat of Voldemort. She asked for information about her own two sons. As the morning wore on and she still saw no sign of Francis or Paul, she became increasingly concerned. At last, the Weasleys and Francis arrived.

"Francis, I'm so glad that you're safe," she exclaimed with an affectionate pat on his cheek. "I was beginning to get worried. Where is Paul?"

"Paul is fine," Francis replied, giving his mother an enormous hug and a kiss. "He's at St. Mungo's Hospital with Tonks. She has some spell damage, a Slashing Curse, but she'll be all right."

"Oh dear, poor Tonks," Eudora rejoined, sporting a worried look. "Let me get you some breakfast."

Eudora set a large plate of eggs in front of her son. Then she moved off to speak with Arthur.

"Where's Molly?" Arthur asked, looking around for his wife.

Eudora gave him a troubled look and asked, "You mean, you don't know about last night?"

"What happened last night?"

"Well, Molly should really be the one to tell you this," Eudora replied. "She's at Hogwarts with Ron. Last night, Ron and Ginny went with Harry to confront You-Know-Who."

"What?" Arthur exclaimed. His eyes popped open wide.

"Don't be alarmed, dear," she said, casting him a reassuring look. "They're going to be just fine, but Ron is in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Molly is staying there with him."

Arthur's mouth opened and shut several times, but all he could utter was "Oh!"

"Perhaps you'd better sit down, Arthur," she suggested. "And have something to eat. Afterwards, you can go to Hogwarts to see Ron and Molly."

She helped him to a seat and went to get him some food. She returned with a plate of bacon and eggs and set them before him. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Just then, Lupin entered the kitchen. He looked around for Angela. When he did not see her, he approached Eudora.

"Hello, Mrs. Hawkins," Lupin said, his eyes still scanning the room. "Where's Angela?"

"Hello, Remus," she chimed. "She's at Hogwarts, dear. You, of course, know by now that Harry dueled You-Know-Who last night. Well, Angela, Ravena, and Molly went after him. I understand that they are all still at Hogwarts."

Lupin's brow furrowed. "Are they all right?"

"I believe so," Eudora replied. "Ravena had some spell damage. And Harry, Ron, and another young girl are in the hospital wing. But they're all expected to recover."

"And Angela?"

"She wasn't mentioned," Eudora answered with a heartening smile. "But I'm sure that she's just staying at Hogwarts with her cousin."

The worried look remained on Lupin's face. He crossed over to the fireplace, took down a handful of Floo powder, and threw it into the flames. A green flash filled the fireplace. He knelt down in front of the hearth, stuck his head in the emerald flames, and shouted for Severus Snape. From the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, Eudora listened to Lupin's side of the conversation.

"Hello, Severus," Lupin said. "I would like to speak with Angela, if I may?...What? What do you mean she's not there?...Well, she's not here...No. I'm quite certain..."

Lupin pulled his head out of the fireplace with a look of alarm. He turned to Eudora and addressed her. "Mrs. Hawkins, are you certain that Angela never returned here last night?"

"Yes, dear," insisted Eudora with growing concern. "She left with the others at about eleven o'clock. I've not seen her since."

Francis rose to his feet and approached the fireplace, listening. Lupin stuck his head back into the fire and resumed his conversation with Snape.

"Yes, she never returned here last night," he said, his growing impatience evident in his tone. "Look, Severus, I don't have time for your games. Just tell me where you sent Angela last night...The Riddle Mansion? Where the hell is that?...No, please, you don't need to come. I'll go. Just tell me where...Damn!"

Lupin rose from the fireplace. He stepped away from the hearth and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to regain his composure.

"Angela's missing?" Francis inquired. Lupin nodded.

"And you're going after her?" Francis asked. Lupin nodded again. "Then I'm coming too."

A moment later, another emerald flash filled the fireplace and Severus Snape stepped out into the kitchen.

"You know, you really don't have to do this, Severus," Lupin urged. "Please, just give me the directions."

"I insist," Snape replied with a condescending look. "I have been to the Riddle House before. Believe me when I tell you that you will need my help, especially if there are Death Eaters lurking about."

"Right then," Lupin replied, heading for the stairs. "Let's get on with it. We're wasting time."

Lupin, Snape, and Francis filed gravely out of headquarters into the square outside. Snape whispered instructions to the men. They looked around quickly to ensure that they were not being observed and Disapparated.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The three men reappeared moments later in the midst of the overgrown graveyard. The derelict Riddle Mansion stood on the hill above them, appearing ominous in the mid-morning light. They surveyed the rubble around them: the broken and toppled gravestones, the magical cords lying limp at the base of several tombstones, the large blackened scorch mark where Voldemort had once stood, the brown splotches of dried blood staining the weeds, and the carcass of the giant serpent now covered with flies and ants feasting on its remains.

Francis let out a low whistle. "Bloody hell," he murmured under his breath.

"Come, quickly, behind here," Snape urged, motioning to a spot behind a large monument. His dark eyes swept the surroundings. "We are in plain view of the house from here. We must be more careful."

The men ducked behind the monument featuring an enormous cross, surrounded by two sculpted figures. The marble statues once bore the likeness of angels, but the heads and wings had been blasted from both. Fragments of marble were scattered on the grass behind the monument. Francis picked his way among the rubble, frowning.

"Where do we start?" he asked, looking from man to man.

"Severus?" Lupin inquired. "Did Molly give you any information on where she last saw Angela?"

Snape thought for a moment. "She told me that they were hiding behind a grove of yews," he replied, "watching the Dark Lord in the graveyard."

All three men looked up, searching for the grove. They sighted the yews. Keeping their bodies low, they dodged among the tombstones to the other side of the trees.

"This must be the spot," remarked Francis. "Look, you can crouch here and see practically the whole graveyard without being seen. And the grass is all trampled."

"Yes, I agree," Lupin rejoined. "Let's fan out. Perhaps we can find some clues."

His eyes scanned the grass. He froze, staring. Then he bent down and plucked a small white button from the dirt at his feet. His fingers turned it over gingerly.

"What is it?" Snape inquired.

"It's a button." Lupin's voice was shaking. "Look at the weeds. There's been a struggle of some kind here. See the marks in the dirt. Someone dragged something heavy...that way." He pointed toward the small church.

Snape and Francis ran, following the trail through the weeds. Lupin rose slowly. He placed the button in his pocket. Then he also followed the path, but more circumspectly, searching the grass for signs of Angela. He walked a few more yards and stopped again. Something caught his eye. The sun glinted off an object dangling from a tree branch, a broken necklace chain. He pulled it from the tree and looked down at the ground below. He gasped. There lying in the grass was a silver locket and the ring that he had given Angela. He snatched up both, clutching them tightly in his grasp. Then he ran to catch up with the others, now certain that he had found Angela's trail.

All three men stood in the doorway of the church and stared in disbelief at the destruction within. The entire floor was buried under several feet of rubble. The pews were visible only as hills among the piles of broken beams, twisted iron, thatch, and dirt.

"Do you suppose she's buried somewhere in there?" Francis asked.

"I'm certain of it," Lupin replied, opening his palm to show the locket. "I found these just outside."

"That's hers, all right," remarked Francis, his voice breaking. "Got pictures of our parents in it. I'd know that anywhere." A tear rolled down his cheek. "Well, let's get cracking. How do we move this trash out of here?"

"We will have to proceed very carefully," replied Snape with a grave expression. "Or we could bring more debris down on top of her." He assumed a commanding posture. "Wands out. We will do this together." He jabbed a finger at Francis. "You, levitate that beam up and out. Lupin, stabilize that side. I will take this side."

Working together, Snape, Lupin and Francis cleared a path into the church. They stumbled across the body of a man among the rumble a short while later. His robes lay very loosely over his lanky frame, his fingers clutching a wand. He was bloodied and unconscious, but still alive.

"Any idea who he is?" asked Francis.

"Of course," said Snape. "That is Nebulus Boggs."

"Boggs?" echoed Lupin, his anger rising.

Lupin knelt over the body, disarmed the man, and revived him with his wand. The Death Eater's eyes fluttered open. He squinted, while his vision adjusted to the daylight streaming through the roofless church. Lupin grabbed the Death Eater by the lapels of his robes and pulled him into a sitting position.

"Where is she?" Lupin demanded with a steely tone of hatred. "What have you done with her?"

The Death Eater stared back at Lupin, blinking. But then his mouth twisted into a cunning grin. He looked at Lupin with sudden understanding. His eyes flashed with malice.

"You must be the werewolf," Boggs whispered. Then he cackled.

"You worthless pile of dragon dung!" Lupin spat, shaking the Death Eater in his grasp. "Where have you taken her?"

Boggs never answered. He simply laughed. Then his eyes rolled back into his head and he breathed his last. Lupin lowered the lifeless body to the floor and uttered a single sob. He stood up and turned away from the others. His hand ran through his hair.

Snape knelt beside the dead body and searched its pockets. His nimble fingers felt another wand and a flask. He handed the wand to Francis. Then he opened the flask and sniffed it.

"Polyjuice Potion," he remarked, raising his eyebrows.

"What?" exclaimed Francis with a bewildered expression.

"Polyjuice Potion, you dunderhead." Snape cast him an exasperated look. "It allows someone to impersonate another. It appears that Boggs was impersonating the headmaster. That explains why Potter insisted that he saw Dumbledore here." Snape glared at Francis, who returned him a dumbfounded look. Snape waved a dismissive hand. "Never mind!" Then he cursed under his breath.

"Let's keep looking," Lupin said, turning back to the others. "If he was buried here, then she must be here somewhere too."

They resumed their search through the wreckage. A short while later, Francis saw a delicate hand, protruding from under the rubble. He shouted to the others. They began digging through the debris with greater urgency. At last, they lifted the wooden bench that concealed Angela's body. She lay face down on the rough wooden floor, silent and still.

They watched, as Lupin knelt beside her, his eyes searching her body for any signs of life. He brushed her hair from her dirt-stained cheek. His trembling fingers felt on her neck for a pulse. Then he pressed his ear to Angela's back, listening. A sigh of relief escaped his lips, as he heard the faint sounds of the breath in her lungs.

"She's still alive," Lupin said, turning to the others.

Francis gasped. "Well, what are we waiting for," he urged. "Let's get her out of here."

"Not so fast," Snape replied, his dark eyes still fixed on Angela's body and his face expressionless. "She could have injuries. We cannot move her until we are certain that nothing is broken."

Lupin turned back to Angela. His gaze scanned down the length of her body, taking an inventory of any visible injuries. His eyes lingered on the burns and rope marks on her wrists and the cuts and bruises on her arms. He shuddered. He surveyed the torn and grass-stained dress. With his wand, he dissolved the ropes that bound her ankles. His shaking hand rested on her back.

"Ennervate!" Lupin uttered, pointing his wand at her heart.

Francis watched as his sister stirred, his gaze fixed. He swiped his eyes with his sleeve and turned away. He put a burly arm around Snape's shoulder and tried to lead him from the scene. Snape recoiled from the gesture, staring back at Lupin and Angela.

"Come on," Francis advised. "Let's give them some privacy."

Snape glared at Francis and stood rooted to the spot. But Francis returned his stare with a determined look that told Snape that he meant business and would resort to force if necessary. Snape scowled and reached inside his vest for his wand. Angela gasped behind him. He froze. His face resumed a closed expression. He withdrew his hand, turned, and complied.

"By the way," Francis said, as they approached the doorway. "It seems that my cousin has taken a shine to you. Just the other day, she was going on and on about you."

Snape whipped his head around sharply to face Francis. His eyes popped open wide. But his expression quickly dissolved into one of feigned indifference. Francis chuckled.

"A word of advice," Francis suggested with a knowing wink. "Flowers. She loves flowers. Simply melts over them."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Angela drifted in and out of consciousness, her mind ensnared in gloomy shadows devoid of hope. But suddenly, blinding brightness flooded over her, banishing the darkness. Then something jolted her body like an electric shock. A warming pulse coursed through her veins, summoning her toward the light. She shivered, as the last dregs of coldness left her frame. Then she heard a familiar voice softly calling her name.

"Angela," he said.

Her eyes fluttered open. She lifted her head to see Lupin kneeling over her. His shirt was torn and dirty, her ribbon still tied around his right arm. He was bruised. He had dried blood on his forehead, in his brown hair, and on his right sleeve. But he was the most beautiful sight that she'd ever seen.

She gasped, pulled herself up, and threw her arms around his neck. He gathered her in his arms and clasped her to his chest. They kissed again and again. Lupin caressed her cheek, ran his fingers through her hair, and buried his face in her soft tresses. For a while, they just held each other closely in a tearful embrace, neither one saying a word. Angela longed to ask him about the battle and how he'd found her. But all her words seemed to get stuck in her throat. She just smiled through her tears of joy.