The Talisman of Monguk

Chapter 26: Clever Little Vixen

On the following morning, Angela and Lupin were together in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. Spread open in front of Lupin was a copy of the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. Plastered across the front page was a huge picture of Harry Potter. They looked at the headline emblazoned above it and read the article with interest.

HARRY POTTER DOES IT AGAIN!

In a brief statement issued last night, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge announced that Harry Potter has defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was among the eyewitnesses to the downfall of You-Know-Who and has confirmed the rumors of his demise. Headmaster Dumbledore refused to comment further on the specifics of the event. Details of the encounter remain a matter of mystery.

"It is with great joy that I announce to you all today that the wizard known as Lord - you know who I mean - is no longer among us," Fudge announced jubilantly. "He has been vanquished. We owe a debt of gratitude to the young Harry Potter, who is once again responsible for his defeat."

"In honor of this momentous occasion, we officially declare the ninth of June to be a national holiday, hereafter to be known as Harry Potter Day. And in honor of his services to the wizarding community, it gives me great pleasure to nominate Harry Potter to receive the Order of Merlin, first class. I feel assured that his nomination will be confirmed."

The Minister's statement was met with euphoria from the wizarding community...

"I'm not sure how Harry will feel about having a national holiday named for him," Angela commented over Lupin's shoulder, "but the medal is certainly nice and well deserved."

Lupin nodded in agreement and turned the page.

The second page of the paper contained coverage of the battle of Marshwood and featured a photograph of Mad-Eye Moody holding up Dumbledore's staff. Lupin's eyes scanned this page rather quickly, as if it was a memory that he'd rather forget. He started to turn the page, but Angela rested her hand on his arm to stop him. She was absorbed in her reading. Lupin looked down at his plate and tucked into his breakfast of eggs and toast. His gaze wandered back to the paper.

"That's a rather good picture of Mad-Eye," he remarked, putting down his fork and pointing at the photograph.

Angela looked up from her reading. "And how is Mad-Eye?" she asked. "I don't remember seeing him yesterday."

"He was injured," Lupin replied. "It was nothing serious, but I took him to St. Mungo's just to be safe."

A concerned look appeared on Angela's face.

"Just the other day, he was telling me that he's getting too old for this sort of thing," Lupin continued. "But, to tell you the truth, I don't think that anything would have kept him away from that battle. I expect that he'll be out of the hospital today. I'll go check on him later."

"That would be nice," Angela remarked. "And be sure to bring him some pie, won't you? Mum must have made a half dozen fruit pies yesterday. She bakes when she's worried." She glanced down at the bandages on both her wrists with a guilty look.

Lupin took her hand in his. "I will," he replied with a nod and a comforting smile. "But I'm not sure that he'll accept it. You know how suspicious he is about his food."

"Yes, I'm sure that he'll inspect it thoroughly with that magical eye of his," she rejoined, giggling. "He'll prod and poke at it, but I imagine that he'll enjoy it in the end. At all those dinners this past year, I've never seen him refuse a good dessert."

Together they scanned the rest of the paper, but found little of interest, until they reached the bottom of the ninth page. There, next to an advertisement for cauldrons, was an article on Peter Pettigrew. Lupin's mouth dropped open.

"Look at this," he said, pointing to the article. "They finally caught him."

Angela leaned over and read.

PETTIGREW IS ALIVE!

BLACK INNOCENT!

In a startling turn of events, the Sirius Black case was turned on its ear yesterday with the discovery that Peter Pettigrew is still alive. Black, who was imprisoned in Azkaban fifteen years prior for the murder of Pettigrew and a dozen others, was declared innocent of the crimes.

Under interrogation, a nervous Pettigrew confessed that he himself committed the murders and then fabricated his own death to escape conviction. He is considered extremely dangerous and is being held under maximum security at Azkaban, awaiting trial.

The whereabouts of Black, following his escape from Azkaban three years ago, remain a mystery. Some believe that he is dead, although rumors of sightings still abound.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Angela remarked. "Ravena actually caught Pettigrew, just before You-Know-Who got her. Mum said that Dumbledore brought him in to the authorities."

Lupin looked at her with astonishment. "Well, I'm glad that Sirius was finally cleared of those murders." His face fell a little. "It's a shame that it didn't happen while he was still alive."

Angela was about to respond, when she was distracted by a black cloud of soot spewing from the fireplace flue. Seconds later, a large soot-covered barn owl flew out of the flue and perched on the edge of the kitchen table with a letter in its beak. Lupin plucked the letter from the bird's beak, handing it a bit of his toast. The bird pecked at the toast and flew back up the chimney with a quick flick of its wings. Lupin examined the letter.

"It's for you, Angela," he said, handing her the envelope. "From the Ministry of Magic."

Angela took the letter and tore it open. Her eyes scanned the contents. "Well, it's about time," she said with a mysterious smile. "Actually, it's for you."

She handed the parchment to Lupin, who gazed back at her with a puzzled expression.

He glanced down at the letter and read aloud, "The Ministry of Magic hereby certifies that Angela Hawkins is a registered Animagus...a fox!" His eyes opened wide with wonder and disbelief.

"Well, technically, I'm a vixen."

"How?" he exclaimed. "When did you do this?"

Angela laughed. "I've been meeting with Minerva McGonagall for months now," she replied, her green eyes sparkling. "She's been helping me."

"I can't believe it!" he said with a broad grin. "Least of all, that you kept it secret from me. But it does explain why I kept bumping into you at Hogwarts."

"Well, I wanted to tell you. Really, I did," she explained. "But I decided to wait to see if I could do it. Even with Professor McGonagall's help, it was more difficult than I thought. Transforming into a fox wasn't so bad. It was reversing the process that proved most difficult. There was one night, when we spent the whole lesson trying to get rid of my tail." She giggled.

"Yes, I think I would have noticed that," he replied, chuckling. "Well, I'd really like to see this."

"All right," she rejoined. Then her expression turned serious. "But you must promise to take me to Minerva straight away, if something goes wrong."

"I promise," he replied with a grin.

In the blink of an eye, a small fox stood on the very spot where Angela had been standing just moments before. Except for the white on its tail and face, the little creature had reddish brown fur the color of Angela's hair and sparkling green eyes. The kit fox jumped up into Lupin's lap and nuzzled against his neck. He laughed and buried his face in the downy fur. The vixen wiggled free and jumped back down to the floor. An instant later, Angela was back.

"You did this for me?" Lupin asked quietly.

Angela smiled at him sweetly and nodded. "I stole the idea from your friends."

"You clever little vixen," he said with a sigh.

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

Back at Hogwarts, Snape was less enthused about the news in the Daily Prophet. While the rest of the wizard world celebrated, he hid in his basement dungeon, seething. That's where Ravena found him that morning. When she entered his office, he was reading the paper with a sullen expression on his face.

"How could my day possibly get any worse?" he griped. "First, that murderer, Sirius Black, get exonerated." His voice dripped with contempt at the mention of his old adversary. "Then Fudge declares a holiday, Harry Potter Day. You cannot go anywhere today without hearing someone praising Potter. And to make matters worse, Fudge confers on the boy the Order of Merlin. The boy is arrogant enough as it is. Do they really need to make his head any bigger?" Snape scowled.

"Actually, Harry seems to be rather embarrassed by all the attention," Ravena replied. "When I last saw him, he was hiding out much like you, Severus."

Snape bristled at the comparison.

Ravena ignored it and continued. "Did it ever occur to you that you just might be wrong about Harry?"

"You forget that I knew the father," he snapped back, his dark eyes filled with loathing. "And Harry is just like him."

"Oh?" she remarked. "And I suppose that you are just like your father?"

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously and he looked even angrier. An expression of alarm flashed over Ravena's face.

"Sorry, perhaps that's a bad example," she added, with an apologetic glance. "Let's talk about my mother. Surely, you don't think that I'm just like her?"

Snape's expression softened a little. "Ravena, there is absolutely no resemblance." He smirked.

A sly smile crept over Ravena's face. "Actually, I didn't come down here to argue with you," she purred. "I came down to give you this." She strolled over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"What's that for?" Snape asked, raising his eyebrows.

"That," she answered in a honeyed tone, "is to thank you for the lovely bouquet of flowers that you sent to my infirmary bedside yesterday."

The bouquet was an enormous garish arrangement of wizard blooms. There were anemones with flagellating tentacles, snapdragons that actually bit anyone that tried to sniff them, and wizard roses with enormous thorns. Poisoned ivy and light green lizard's breath was interspersed throughout the blossoms for filler.

"You're welcome," Snape replied. His dark mood began to lift a little.

Ravena pushed the newspaper to the side of the desk. Then she sat on the desk top directly in front of him. Her eyes stared down at the desk and her fingers traced patterns along the grains of the wood. Snape leaned back in his chair, surveying her with his black eyes.

"All the students are either outside or at Hogsmeade Village for the holiday," Ravena said, still looking down. "I think you'll find that the castle is quite deserted. And..." She cocked an eyebrow and shot him an expectant look. "I was hoping that you might be persuaded to dance with me?"

"Dance?" he replied, scowling.

"Yes," she said. "I understand that there's a room on the seventh floor suitable for that purpose."

"I have been here for fifteen years and I have never seen such a room," Snape replied, furrowing his brow.

Ravena sniggered. "That's because it only appears when you really need it," she explained. "The house elves call it the Come and Go Room. It's on the seventh floor opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. I learned of it from the sad little house elf that brings my afternoon tea, the poor little dear."

He studied her for a moment, considering her proposal, but shook his head. "Perhaps another time," he replied sourly.

She sighed, slid off the desk, and strolled toward the door. Just before she left, she turned. "Suit yourself. You can stay down here and brood alone. I just thought that a little company might lift your spirits. See you later, Severus."

Ravena exited and closed the door with a click. Snape looked back down at the paper. He swore, crumpled it up, and threw it in the wastebasket. His dark eyes stared at the door. Less then a minute later, he strode toward the door and threw it open.

"Ravena!" he called out.

As he emerged through the doorway, he found Ravena waiting just outside it. His eyebrows shot up with surprise and then fell back into place. His lips curled into a smirk.

"I thought that you might change your mind," Ravena replied with a sly smile.

"Shall we?" Snape inquired, offering her his arm.

They strolled off down the corridor together and continued up to the seventh floor. They found the corridor with a large tapestry of a wizard being beaten by trolls in tutus. Across the hall, directly opposite the tapestry, was a blank wall. As Snape watched, Ravena walked back and forth in front of the wall, thinking of ballrooms and tangos. After her third pass, a doorway appeared where the empty wall had been.

They opened the door and found a beautifully appointed ballroom inside. It had smooth polished marble floors, mirrors all along one wall, and crystal chandeliers. Although there was no orchestra in sight, a slow sensuous tango was playing.

Snape escorted Ravena into the room, eyeing the furnishings with astonishment. He bowed and she curtsied. Then he took her in his arms and they danced. They moved to the rhythm of the music, covering the entire dance floor with their steps and turns. The first tango ended and a second one began. They continued dancing, caught up in the music. In Snape's arms, Ravena surrendered to the spell of the tango.

Halfway through the second dance, she simply stopped. Her eyes stared into those mysterious black pools, a rapturous expression on her face. She couldn't look away. She felt as if he could see right through her into her very soul. She blushed at the thought and faltered as if she'd forgotten the steps. The relentless rhythm of the tango continued. Or was that her heartbeat?

Her brilliant blue eyes now dropped to stare at her shoes, stuck fast to the floor, immovable. She glanced back up at Snape, noticing the mystified expression on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but her fingers moved to his lips to silence him. She had to act quickly, before she lost her nerve. Her hands reached for his face. Her eyes closed and she planted a passionate kiss on his startled lips. Her eyes fluttered open as their lips parted. She stared up at him and waited for his reaction, not daring to breath. He met her gaze with a fleeting look of shock. Then he took her into his arms and returned the kiss.

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

At the end of the term, Lupin and Angela went with the Weasleys to meet Harry at the King's Cross train station. Steam hissed from the pistons as the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station and stopped in front of platform nine-and-three-quarters. Angela gripped Lupin's arm and stood on tiptoe, hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry's black hair as he disembarked from the train. She was looking very pretty in the sundress that she had worn to her first meeting of the Order. Lupin stood beside her. Although as shabbily dressed as ever, he looked healthy and quite happy. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood with them in their best Muggle clothes alongside Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Hermione's parents.

Ginny and Hermione emerged from the train and ran to greet their parents. They exchanged hugs and then spoke with Angela. She proudly showed off the engagement ring that Lupin had given her.

Lupin was the first to spot Ron and Harry. He strode forward to greet them. After the usual handshakes, he noticed that the boys were staring over at the girls.

"Ginny's really blossomed this year," he stated with a meaningful look at Harry. "If I'm not mistaken, I'd wager that you like her, Harry."

Harry didn't answer, but Ron did.

"She used to fancy Harry," said Ron with a snigger. "But now she fancies Neville Longbottom."

"Lucky for Neville," Lupin replied. "Hermione is looking lovely today too."

Lupin glanced over at Ron who had turned a deep shade of red.

"Professor Lupin," Harry inquired. "Can we ask you something?"

"Sure," he replied, raising his eyebrows.

"I mean, about girls...er...what they like," Harry stuttered.

Lupin burst out laughing. "I'm hardly an expert on women. Why do you ask me?"

"Well, they always get you when Mum is upset," Ron interjected. "And you did get Angela to agree to marry you."

"So I did," Lupin answered with a grin. "Although I can't tell you how. I don't know what she sees in me. I only know what I see in her." He stared over at his fiancée with a faraway look in his eye.

"Well, if you adults don't know," Harry groused, the exasperation evident in his voice. "How is that supposed to help us?"

"Hmm?" Lupin replied, suddenly being recalled to the conversation. Then he chuckled. "You're not supposed to understand love. It's a mystery. That's part of what makes it so wonderful."

"So what are you three discussing?" Angela asked, as she approached.

"Nothing," Lupin replied.

"Oh?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

Then she spotted Harry's cousin, Dudley, walking up the platform with his parents.

"Isn't that your cousin, Harry?" she asked, motioning towards Dudley.

"Yes, that's him," replied Harry, frowning. "And my aunt and uncle too."

Angela glanced over at the Dursleys and waved at Dudley. He gave her a frightened look of recognition and cowered behind his father. This was no easy feat, since Dudley was much larger than his dad. Mr. Dursley, apparently under the impression that she was waving at him, beamed back. However his smile faded to a frown of disapproval, when he saw Angela take Lupin's hand.

Angela turned to Harry. "Well, I was going to offer to teach you some karate moves," she said. "But you won't need them soon. Once you turn seventeen, you're allowed to use your wand outside Hogwarts. Those restrictions on the underage use of magic won't apply anymore." She winked at Harry and nodded toward Dudley.

A broad grin appeared on Harry's face. He reached for his wand and watched as Dudley ducked behind Mr. Dursley again.

"And you can come and visit us whenever you like, Harry," invited Ron. "I plan to take the Apparation test right away. And you'll be able to Apparate soon too. Your birthday's coming up and I know that you'll pass the exam."

A worried look crossed Lupin's face. "Harry, promise me that you'll be careful," he warned. "Voldemort may be gone, but there are plenty of Death Eaters out there that want revenge. We'll be watching, but we're not foolproof. Please promise me."

"I will," Harry replied with a grin.

"Take care, Harry," said Lupin, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Goodbye, Harry! Ron!" said Angela, giving them both a peck on the cheek.

Ron's face turned scarlet with embarrassment. Then Angela and Lupin turned and walked down the train platform arm in arm.

"By the way, why did you agree to marry me?" Lupin asked, as they strolled away.

Angela giggled. "There are lots of reasons. For starters, you're kind and gentle, a wonderful dueler, an amazing instructor. And then there are those eyes and that smile..."

Ron and Harry could hear her voice trailing off, drowned out by Lupin's laughter.