Hunted

Chapter 6: Moondance

Three weeks had passed since the start of Harry Potter's seventh year at Hogwarts. All the students were gathered in the Great Hall for the evening meal. Headmaster Dumbledore presided over the High Table, where one place was conspicuously empty. The seat for the professor of Muggle Studies between Professors Sinistra and Snape had remained vacant since the beginning of the term. Ravena sat on the near side of Professor Sinistra. She did not mind the empty seat, since fewer bodies between herself and Snape made him an easier target for her longing glances.

Platters of delectable food had just appeared on the tables for the evening repast, when Argus Filch, the Hogwarts custodian, threw open the doors to the Great Hall and dashed into the room. With labored breath, he approached the High Table. A gnarled hand clutched the stitch in his chest.

"Headmaster, something just pulled through the front gate," he wheezed, jabbing his finger toward the front door. "An outlandish contraption. All colors. Roaring and spewing smoke like a dragon!"

A buzz of conversation filled the Great Hall. Students craned their necks to glance out the mullioned windows. Several stood up to get a better look. Billows of black smoke washed against the leaded panes. Those at the High Table trained their eyes on the Headmaster, looking for cues from his reaction. Dumbledore rose to his feet and signaled for calm. Ravena heard the roar of an engine that died in a sputter of coughs, then the clanging of the knocker against the front door.

Dumbledore turned to the caretaker and nodded. "Please, Argus, let our visitor enter."

Filch's eyes opened wide at the request, as if he thought it a bad idea. Then he turned and shuffled toward the door, muttering under his breath. He disappeared from the room. Ravena strained to hear the conversation taking place in the hallway outside, but could catch only the muffled sounds of a male voice mingling with the raspy voice of the aged caretaker.

Minutes later, a lone figure brandishing a wand strode into the Great Hall. With a flick of his wrist and an uttered spell, the doors closed behind him. Students stared with astonished looks on their faces and watched him pass. The portly, middle-aged man had long matted hair pulled back in a ponytail and a scruffy graying beard that rivaled Hagrid's. He wore tie-dyed academic robes, left open in front to reveal torn jeans and a black t-shirt bearing the insignia "The Grateful Dead" and emblazoned with a white skull and a red rose. On his feet, he wore a pair of Birkenstocks. He strode up to the Headmaster and held out a large hand.

"You must be Dumbledore," he said. "The name's Haight Ashbury."

A look of understanding passed over the Headmaster's face. "Ah, our visiting Muggle Studies professor. Welcome," Dumbledore exclaimed, extending his hand to meet Ashbury's. "We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival. I trust that you had a pleasant trip from California?"

Ashbury nodded and gave Dumbledore's hand a vigorous shake. "No problem, but the cross country drive was one wild ride. All these people driving on the wrong side of the road. Can't count the number of times that I had to swerve to avoid an accident."

Ravena's eyes grew wide. She dabbed her mouth with her napkin to hide her sniggers.

"By the way, I parked my wheels out front," Ashbury continued. "She's still smoking a little. Hope that's okay?"

"That will do for now," Dumbledore replied, his mouth twitching into a bemused smile. "Allow me to introduce you to the other faculty." He then proceeded down the High Table and introduced each member in turn. Professors politely nodded in greeting.

By this time, all the students had returned to their seats, but every eye was still glued to the strange newcomer with Dumbledore. Whispers and murmuring filled the room. Then Dumbledore turned to the students and motioned for quiet.

"May I have your attention please," he began, surveying the students over his half-moon spectacles. The murmuring in the room died down and the students directed their stares to the Headmaster. "I am pleased to welcome our new Muggle Studies teacher, Professor Ashbury. He comes to us from the Berkeley School for New Age Studies in America and will be visiting with us for the year."

This announcement was met by scattered applause from the students. No one seemed to know what to make of this newcomer. Ashbury, however, responded as if it were a standing ovation. His face broke into a broad grin. He raised both his arms high over his head, his fingers forming peace symbols. Looks of amusement and expressions of bewilderment registered on the faces of the students.

Dumbledore turned and addressed Ashbury. "Please join us," he invited, motioning to the empty seat between Professors Snape and Sinistra. "Dinner has just been served. There is a great variety. I trust that you will find something to your liking."

"Thanks," Ashbury replied.

He trudged around to his spot at the High Table and settled himself into the chair next to Snape. The Potions Master seemed most displeased by the arrangement. Snape's over-large nose wrinkled in disgust, as if catching the scent of something unpleasant. Ravena watched his reaction with a smirk of amusement.

Ashbury then began piling his plate high with vegetables, avoiding any of the meat dishes. His hand dug into the pocket of his robes and withdrew a packet vaguely reminiscent of a wedge of cheese. He opened it and dropped some on his plate on top of the tower of vegetables.

"Tofu," Ashbury explained, catching a glimpse of Snape's quizzical stare. "Like some?"

"No, thank you," Snape replied, his cold eyes studying the rubbery substance with suspicion.

"I don't eat animal products," Ashbury remarked. His hand reached back into his pocket, extracted a bottle of Tabasco sauce, and sprinkled the whole lot with the peppery brew. "I can't condone killing animals for human consumption. Besides, all that fat is carcinogenic. Not good for the body."

Ravena watched as Snape's eyes wandered to Ashbury's expansive gut that spilled over the waistline of his trousers, an enormous protuberance. A wry grin tugged on the corners of Snape's mouth. Ravena's eyes were riveted on them both. Ashbury caught sight of Ravena's stare. When she saw him, she averted her gaze to her own plate.

"Now there's a fine lookin' woman," Ashbury commented, raising his eyebrows and nudging Snape with his elbow. "Easy on the eyes. I could really dig her. And I think she wants me. Did you catch that look?"

Snape cast him a disdainful glare and edged his chair away. "I sincerely doubt that," he sneered. "I believe her attentions were directed at me." He arched an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth twitched.

Ashbury's eyes flew open wide. "Oh! So you and...the pretty lady...are..." Ashbury winked, danced his bushy eyebrows, and nudged Snape again with his elbow.

"Yes, we are," Snape snapped, directing a menacing glare at Ashbury.

Ashbury chuckled. "Well, that doesn't bother me," he remarked. "Free love is my motto. There's plenty of old Haight to go around. I don't mind sharing."

"Well, I mind," Snape hissed, eyeing Ashbury with contempt. He rose to his feet and threw his napkin down on the table. "Please excuse me. I seem to have lost my appetite." Then he spun around and stormed out of the room.

Ashbury watched him leave and whistled softly. Then he turned to Professor Sinistra. "That dude has some serious issues," he remarked. "Could you sense the negative vibes? Bad karma." He stared after Snape and shoveled a huge forkful of food into his mouth.

Professor Sinistra, who had just taken a sip from her goblet, nearly spewed the contents from her mouth. She caught herself at the last moment and forced a swallow. Then she doubled over in a fit of coughing. Ravena turned to assist her colleague. But her eyes strayed to the doors of the Great Hall where Snape had been just moments before.

* * * * * * * *

A couple of days later, Ravena crept down the corridors of Hogwarts with cat-like tread. She picked her way down to Snape's dungeons, hopeful for a tryst with her lover. Although it was after hours and all the students should have been back in their respective dormitories for the evening, one couldn't be too cautious. Her eyes darted to and fro, wary for anyone that might witness her descent. The coast was clear.

She rounded the corner and prepared to descend the final staircase to the dungeons, when Mrs. Norris, Filch's precious cat, crossed her path. The animal stopped in front of her and stared. Its eyes glowed in the dim light of hallway like two disembodied beacons. The eyes narrowed in suspicion and the cat mewed.

"Shhh!" Ravena spat, her blue eyes suddenly turning feline in appearance.

Mrs. Norris arched her back, her hackles standing on end. Then the cat emitted a feral yowl, turned tail, and bolted from sight. A satisfied smirk played on Ravena's lips, as she continued down to the Potion Master's dungeon quarters.

Ravena approached Snape's office door and rapped on it with her knuckles. There was no answer. She knocked again, this time pressing her ear to the door, listening for movement within. But all she could hear was the wail of a guitar coming from the office across the hall. Her eyes cast a watchful glance over her shoulder. She knew that the new Muggle Studies professor would be behind that other door and she did not want to be discovered here. Her eyes roved back to Snape's door.

"Severus," she whispered into the keyhole. "It's me. Please let me in."

Just then, Ashbury's office door flew open. He stepped out into the corridor with a look of surprise on his round, red face. His eyes rested on Ravena with an appreciative stare. His lips pursed, emitting a long, loud wolf whistle. "Well, hellooooo, pretty lady."

Ravena spun around to face Professor Ashbury, a look of embarrassment on her face. "I was just looking for Severus," she muttered, "to discuss...my class syllabus."

"Of course, you were," Ashbury rejoined with a wink. "But as long as you're here, won't you come in." His large hand pulled aside the love beads hanging like a curtain just inside the doorway. With his other hand, he motioned for her to enter with a sweeping gesture.

"I...er...I suppose I could stop by for just a minute," Ravena stuttered. Her eyes traveled up and down the corridor to make sure that no one was watching. She approached the entrance to his office with reluctant steps. Her curious eyes peered into the room.

She gazed with astonishment around the office, noticing that it did not contain a single piece of conventional office furniture. Instead, Indian batiks and cushions of various sizes covered the floor. Lava lamps lit the room, light glowing from the constantly moving globules of color. A heavy scent of incense hung in the air, mingled with a sickly sweet and smoky scent of another sort. In the corner, a battered Fender Stratocaster played a Hendrix guitar lick of its own accord.

"Voodoo Chile," Ravena remarked absently to herself, recognizing the tune.

"Ah," Ashbury remarked, raising his overgrown eyebrows. "You know Muggle music?"

"I am familiar with some," she rejoined.

"Moody Blues?" he quizzed.

"Knights in White Satin," she replied.

"The Doors?"

"Light My Fire."

"Joplin?"

"Me and Bobby McGee."

A broad smile flashed across Ashbury's face. He whistled.

"Such music was forbidden in our house," Ravena explained. "So naturally, my cousins made certain that I was thoroughly educated in it." A self-satisfied smirk was back on her lips.

"Beautiful and accomplished," he remarked, now looking her up and down. "Bet you're really something in a mini-skirt and a pair of go-go boots. I'm going to need a little help later in the course. I don't suppose you dance?"

"That depends on what kind," she answered. "I know a few basic steps of most ballroom dances. But I'm much better at the two-step, the waltz, and..." She hesitated and then added, "tango."

Ashbury strolled toward her. His arm reached around her to lean against the wall. "I was thinking of something more hip," he replied, cocking a bushy eyebrow. "Like maybe a little dirty dancing?"

Ravena recoiled against the wall. Her nose caught a strong whiff of body odor and wrinkled in disgust. Clearly, personal hygiene wasn't high on Ashbury's agenda.

"I'm afraid that I'm not familiar with that," she replied, her voice wavering. "But you'll find that the faculty baths on the fourth floor are very nicely appointed. Perhaps they neglected to point them out to you on your initial tour of the castle. Bubble baths. Massage jets. You should really try them."

"Is that an invitation?" he replied with a leer. "Maybe you'll join me for some skinny dipping later?"

Ravena's eyes opened wide with alarm. "Oh, no, I'm sorry," she corrected, blushing "I never meant to imply anything improper." She backed away toward the door. "And I should really let you get back to work. Oh, would you look at the time!"

She exited Ashbury's office and bolted back up the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. She rounded the first corner out of sight and flattened herself against the cold stone walls of the castle, feeling the refreshing coolness seep through the back of her academic robes. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes wandered the deserted hallways. Where was Severus? Why hadn't he answered his door? Then she resumed her stealthy retreat back to her own chambers, disappointed that she had missed her lover.

* * * * * * * *

Later that same evening, Ravena sat in front of her dressing table in her private chambers. Her hand pulled out the hairpins that held in place the simple bun at the nape of her neck. She tossed her head, causing her jet-black tresses to fall to her shoulders. Then she reached for the hairbrush and combed out the silky strands.

She gazed into the mirror with an absent stare, her mind wandering to the events of the past day. In the reflection in the looking glass, her eyes caught a glimpse of a creature perched on the table in the middle of the room. Her body edged closer to the mirror. She stared. There sitting on the table, nibbling on a cucumber sandwich leftover from her afternoon tea, was a sizable rat.

Ravena studied the rodent's reflection, noting the worn patches on its fur. The rat stopped and looked directly at her, as if suddenly aware of her gaze. The little nose twitched feverishly and the beady eyes glittered. Then she noticed something odd about the rat. Its front paw glistened, as if made of something other than fur. Ravena's head whipped around to face the creature. But the rodent bolted from the table and disappeared under the dresser before she could get a better look. She was about to investigate further, when she heard someone pounding on her office door.

Ravena ran from her chambers to her office. She opened the door and peered outside to find Snape standing in the corridor, seething. Ravena's eyes popped open wide.

"Severus," she gasped, surveying the hall for prying eyes. "Please, come in." She stepped aside, as he burst into the room. She closed the door behind him.

"That imbecilic moron," he fumed, pacing her office. "He is driving me mad. That infernal music at all hours. I cannot even think in my own office."

"Please, calm down, Severus," Ravena soothed, reaching for him. "And, for heaven's sake, lower your voice. Someone might hear you."

"I do not care if the whole world hears," he roared. "I had to retire to the staff room this evening to work on my lesson plans. I spent the entire time contemplating poisons to slip into his tofu!" He balled up his fist and slammed it on her desk. "And then when I finally return to my office, what do you suppose I discover?" he snarled. His eyes narrowed and fixed on Ravena.

"I have no idea," Ravena replied, an innocent expression on her face.

"Then I shall enlighten you," he spat. "I find that you have been down to see that bumbling buffoon of a man."

Ravena's face flashed with alarm. She shook her head. "No!" she insisted. "I went down to see you. Honestly, Severus! You must believe me." She reached for him again. "He discovered me outside your office. I swear."

Snape cast her an incredulous stare. "Then you will be interested to know that he is spreading rumors that you invited him to go hot-tubbing."

"I made no such invitation," Ravena insisted, her blue eyes now flashing in indignation. "How could you think that I would do such a thing? I only mentioned the faculty baths in hopes that he would take the hint." She grimaced and wrinkled her nose. "That man positively reeks!"

Snape considered her arguments for a moment, a stunned expression on his face. His hooked nose twitched. "You do have a point," he conceded. But the lull was brief, as his anger took hold of him again. Snape's black eyes studied her like a hawk closing in for the kill. "He also bragged that you offered to help him teach a unit on dance," he snapped. "What do you have to say to that?"

"Well, I...er...I," she stammered.

Snape's sallow complexion blanched. He grabbed Ravena's shoulders and pulled her to within inches of his own face. "I absolutely forbid you to dance with him," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Well, you won't dance with me," she countered. Ravena's face flushed, as her own fury rose to meet his. She tossed her head, giving those masses of thick ebony hair a shake.

"If that is what you want, then you shall have your dance," Snape whispered, his lips thin and white. "Half past nine. Tomorrow night. In the Room of Requirement."

"Fine!" she snapped back, her blue eyes glittering with fiery passion.

Snape's dark eyes bored into her face. In one brisk move, he pulled her into a fervent embrace and planted a passionate kiss on those ruby lips. Then he released her, spun on his heels, and stormed out of her office.

Ravena watched him go, dazed and breathless. She arched a thin eyebrow and a sly smirk slowly spread over her face. This night had turned out better than she had hoped.

* * * * * * * *

The next day, Ravena flew through her teaching schedule. Nothing could spoil her blissful mood. Her mind wandered with anticipation to her evening rendezvous with Snape. She traipsed down the halls with a light step, humming Van Morrison's "Moondance" under her breath.

As the hour of her long-awaited tryst approached, Ravena ran with breathless excitement up to the seventh floor. She merely approached of the blank wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, when a large doorway appeared where the blank wall had been. She threw open the doors and entered, allowing the notes of the sizzling tango emerging from the room to wash over her.

Her fingers flew to release the clasp on her academic robes. She allowed the robe to slip from her shoulders, revealing a sexy black dancing dress with a halter top and a flirty knee-length shirt. She strolled into the room, trailing the robe across the floor behind her, and then carelessly tossed it in a heap at the periphery of the polished marble dance floor. Her hand raised the hem of the dress, running along the black silk seamed stockings that covered her long legs. Her fingers searched for the elastic garter around her thigh. She tucked her wand into the garter and smoothed her skirt back down into place.

Her eyes surveyed the room. She glanced up at the crystal chandeliers and checked her reflection in the mirrors that lined one whole wall of the ballroom. Her hand swept a stray lock of hair from the path of those china blue eyes. She turned to gaze out the windows at the full moon in the sky outside.

"It's a marvelous night for a moondance," she sang to herself.

Then she turned her attention to the tango softly wafting down from the rafters. As she listened, the music grew louder. She held out both her arms, her left hand hovering in midair about shoulder height and her right hand held as if resting in her partner's palm. Then she began to tango around the room, imagining herself in Snape's arms.

She started with the basic progression. Two long slithery strides backward. Walk two. Followed by a staccato step backward, another to the side, and a sweeping sideways step that returned her to starting position. The tango draw.

She repeated the movement, punctuating it this time with a head snap. Severus was a master at those head jerks. She loved to watch him. Her eyes closed, picturing his flawless form as he danced. A smile played on her lips.

Then she executed other dance moves: gaucho turns, lunges, Spanish drags, and whisks. Her toes swept the polished surface of the marble dance floor, tracing those serpentine patterns. Her willowy form glided, slinking to the rhythm of the tango.

Suddenly, her reverie was interrupted by the shrill notes of a wolf whistle. She spun around to face the doorway, only just realizing that she'd left the doors ajar. Her blue eyes burst wide at the sight of Ashbury. He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his barrel chest, a lascivious leer on his face.

"You weren't kidding," he commented, chuckling. "You really can dance."

Ravena's mouth fell agape. Her eyes searched over his shoulder to the hallway beyond. Severus would be arriving any second now. And he mustn't find the two of them here alone. Ravena's face flashed with alarm. She rushed over to Ashbury.

"You must leave now," she urged, attempting to push his husky form out of the room. "Get out!"

"Just relax, Ravena," Ashbury replied, standing his ground. He watched her useless attempts to remove him from the room with amusement.

His reaction only made Ravena more desperate. "You don't understand," she spat. "You're going to ruin everything. Now get out!"

At that very moment, Snape walked into the room. His dark eyes swept over Ravena in that sexy dress with her hands on Ashbury's chest and the Muggle Studies professor with a wide grin on his face. Snape's mouth opened and shut with an angry snap. Without saying a word, he spun around and left the room. Ravena ran after him in pursuit.

"Please, Severus," she called down the corridor. "I can explain. It's not how it looks. Please, come back."

But Snape ignored her pleas and sped away down the hall with a determined stride. Ravena stopped and watched him go, tears of frustration and disappointment welling up in her eyes. Her fingers strayed to the wand strapped to her right thigh. With a deft swipe of her hand, she extracted her wand and clasped it tightly in her balled up fist. She turned and marched back to the Room of Requirement, thoughts of vengeance on her mind. As she entered the ballroom, she jabbed the wand toward Ashbury's chest, her blue eyes flashing.

"Hey, baby, I meant no harm," he pleaded, seeing the look of fury in her gaze. He raised his hands and backed away. "Take it easy now."

"You want to dance?" she demanded, jabbing the point of the wand into his solar plexus.

"If...If you insist," he stammered, a fearful look in his eyes.

"Good, because dance you shall," she spat. "Tarantallegra!"

A crimson flash of light flew from the wand and exploded on Ashbury's chest. His feet flew out from under him in a wild abandoned dance, his arms flailing in all directions. The sensuous tango that was playing in the room moments before changed to a lively jig.

"Baby," he gasped with uneven breaths, "how...do...you...stop...this...crazy...hex?"

Ravena ignored him. She stomped to the side of the dance floor, snatched up her robes, and marched out of the room without so much as a glance in his direction. She slammed the doors in her wake. Hot tears trailed down her checks. Her perfect evening had been ruined.

* * * * * * * *

Meanwhile at the Lupin cottage in Beecher's Knoll, a moon dance of another sort took place. At twilight that same evening, Angela and Remus strolled arm in arm from their cottage and crossed the garden to a structure that stood on the property a short distance away. They passed under a rose-covered arbor that framed the door of the building. Angela stopped to inhale the damask scent of the white blooms that graced the frame, while Remus opened the door.

Remus turned in the doorway. His arms encircled her waist and drew her into his embrace. Angela closed her eyes and melted into those delicious kisses. He pulled away with reluctance, now gazing into her eyes.

"Are you sure you won't come in tonight?" Remus whispered. Sadness tinged his blue-gray eyes.

"We've discussed this," Angela replied, her own eyes reflecting his longing. "I don't know how the Animagus transformation will affect the babies. And we both agreed that it wouldn't be safe."

"I know." Remus nodded, a look of resignation on his face. "But I will miss you, my vixen. These past months of your company have meant so much."

Angela caressed his cheek. Her gaze strayed to the evening sky, searching for the moon. She glanced back at him.

"You'd better go," she whispered. "It's almost time."

Remus stole one parting kiss and disappeared into the structure. Sounds of clicking and scraping metal met Angela's ears as the door was bolted and secured. Enormous thorns sprouted from the rose canes on the arbor, barring her entrance.

Soft light flickered in the windows of the structure from a cozy fire in the hearth. Tendrils of smoke wafted from the chimney flue out into the night sky. Angela could see her husband's familiar form silhouetted in the frosted panes. She walked to the window and pressed her palm against the enchanted glass. Remus spotted her and pressed his own hand against the other side. Angela stared, wishing that she could be on the other side with him. From the wistful look on his face, she knew that he felt the same.

The full moon rose in the evening sky. Its bright light shone through the windows of the structure, flooding the inside of the room. Remus turned away and the awful transformation took place. Angela averted her eyes, unable to watch. She heard the mournful howl of the wolf. Her face registered a mixture of horror and pity.

No matter how many times she had witnessed this transformation, she could never quite get used to it. Even as a fox, she would hide herself under the cot in the room and bury her face under her paws until the worst of the transformation had passed. Then she would creep out to nestle against him on the carpet in front of the hearth.

Angela peered back into the room. In her husband's place, an enormous werewolf now crouched on the carpet in front of the hearth. Thick gray fur covered his body. The creature raised his head and pricked up his ears. He froze, listening for a moment. The glowing amber eyes turned to stare at her from inside the room. The werewolf lowered its head, curled up on the carpet, and closed its eyes.