Hunted

Chapter 19: The Flight of the Phoenix

The Knight Bus stopped in front of the gates of Hogwarts with a lurch and a BANG! The doors flew open and a young witch in a green, hooded cloak appeared in the doorway. She handed the driver a velvet pouch, all the money she had. She gathered a wriggling bundle to her chest and stepped off the bus. The fingers of her right hand clasped a wand. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, a look of terror on her young face.

Angela disappeared through the gates of the school and crossed the grounds toward the imposing doors of the castle. Still clasping her precious children in her arms, she pointed her wand at the door and uttered a spell. The massive knocker lifted and slammed back against the door with a resounding CLANG! Angela waited, her eyes glancing around. Her wand remained clutched in her tense grip.

After several minutes, she heard the locks on the massive doors click, as the bolts were withdrawn. The doors creaked and groaned. A man with a wizened face peered out at her: the Hogwarts custodian, Argus Filch.

"What do you want?" Filch barked. He surveyed her with a look of annoyance.

"Please, Mr. Filch," Angela pleaded. "I must see Headmaster Dumbledore. It's an emergency. Please let me in."

"He's not here," Filch replied, closing the door in her face.

"Please, I beg you." Angela's eyes filled with tears. "My children and I have nowhere else to turn. If you don't let us in, they will kill us. Please."

"This is a school, Ma'am, not a house of charity." Filch surveyed her with a dispassionate glare. "The headmaster is not here now."

Again he prepared to close the door on her. In desperation, Angela threw herself against the portal to stop its progress. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Please, don't turn us away," she sobbed. "I have no money. I have nowhere else to go."

She heard footsteps approaching and the voice of Severus Snape from the other side of the door. Surely, he would help her. She must get his attention.

"What's going on here?" Snape demanded.

Filch turned to address the professor, releasing his hold on the handle. Angela pushed the door open and ran inside. Her hand seized the sleeve of Snape's academic robes. Her eyes searched his sallow face with a pleading look.

"Severus, please help me," she begged. "We've been attacked by Death Eaters. Please, I need to speak with Dumbledore."

Snape's dark eyes studied her bloodied and tear-stained face. His gaze strayed to the wriggling blanket in her arms. His face registered a fleeting look of shock, then his expression returned to a passive stare. He glanced over her shoulder, his eyes sweeping the grounds. Then he strode to the doors and closed them behind him. He turned to Filch.

"Thank you, Argus," Snape said. "I will take care of this. You may return to your chambers."

"Yes, sir," Filch replied, eyeing Angela with suspicion.

The caretaker turned and shuffled off up the stairs. His pet tabby cat, Mrs. Norris, sniffed and mewed at the newcomers, then followed after Filch.

"Headmaster Dumbledore is not here tonight," Snape whispered. "But I will do what I can to help. Come." He beckoned her to follow him with an impatient wave.

"Thank you, Severus. It was hor--"

"Not here," he hissed, cutting her off. His black eyes darted around the hall. "Come."

Angela shifted the children in her arms and pocketed her wand. She glanced down to stare at the tiny faces. Sirius had fallen asleep. His twin stirred in the swaddling blanket. Shivers racked Angela's petite frame. Snape put his arm around her and led her down the hall toward the infirmary.

The hospital wing was empty tonight. Torches lit themselves when they entered the doors. Rows of vacant hospital beds lined the hall. A nightstand on casters stood beside each one.

Snape escorted Angela to the nearest bed. She laid her children upon the sterile, white linens and cast her babies a tender look. Snape helped her to remove her cloak and she sat down.

Madame Pomfrey, the school Healer, bustled out of her office door toward them. She wore a nightgown and cap. Her hands pulled a pale blue dressing gown over her shoulders.

"What is it now?" she asked Snape, as she approached.

"This is Angela Lupin, Professor Hawkins' cousin." Snape explained. "It appears that she and her family have been the victims of a Death Eater attack."

The healer's gaze traveled over Angela, then stared at the two tiny infants. Madam Pomfrey's mouth dropped open. "Oh, dear."

Angela caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the mullioned windows of the infirmary. Her curly hair was disheveled and littered with small splinters of wood, feathers, and debris. She had a gash on her forehead that was still bleeding. Blood dripped down onto her face and clothes. The once crisp, white, muslin dress was now damp with perspiration and soiled with dirt and blood, the results of her torture and battle at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange. Her body trembled with convulsions. She tried to pull her cloak back around her shoulders to warm herself.

"Here, wrap her in this," Madam Pomfrey said, handing Snape a heavy woolen blanket. "She looks like she's going into shock. I'll need to get her a Reviving Potion. I'll be right back."

Madam Pomfrey hurried out of the room toward her office. Snape unfolded the blanket and laid it over Angela's shoulders. His face was no longer impassive. Even he could not hide his alarm. As he pulled the blanket around her, Angela awakened from her torpor. She seized his arm and pleaded with him.

"Severus, we were attacked by Death Eaters," Angela exclaimed in agitation. "That horrid Lestrange woman. She tried to kill me and the children. Remus saved our lives. She's dead...dead. He's badly injured. I need to save him. You must help me. You must find him. Please."

"Calm down," Snape whispered, casting a furtive glance toward Madam Pomfrey's office. "Slow down. You are not making any sense. Who is dead?"

"The Lestrange woman." Angela replied, wringing her hands. "She attacked us. Remus killed her."

"Bellatrix Lestrange is dead?" Snape repeated, his eyebrows raised in a quizzical stare.

"Yes, Remus bit her and...and...jumped on her to keep her from harming us. She fell and--" Angela broke off at the memory of it, too horrified to continue speaking.

"And then what?" Snape probed.

Angela shuddered and looked away. "She fell and impaled herself on a piece of broken furniture."

Snape stared at her with a look of disbelief. He recovered moments later. "Lupin bit her?"

"Yes, the full moon," Angela answered, her green eyes now boring into his. "Remus is a werewolf tonight. Please, you must help me find him. He's badly hurt. If we don't, then he'll die."

"Where is he?" Snape asked.

"I'm not sure. After the attack, he ran off into the woods behind our house."

"But, Angela, you cannot be serious," Snape rejoined with an incredulous stare. "You cannot expect me to go searching through the woods in the dark for an injured werewolf. That would be foolhardy. We will have to wait until morning, when he has returned to human form. It would be too dangerous to attempt anything tonight."

"But he can't wait," she begged, sobbing. "He'll bleed to death, if we don't do something tonight. He's my husband, the father of my children. I can't just sit back and let him die."

"Calm down," he demanded, giving her his sternest look. "We are not going anywhere tonight."

Normally, his withering glare would have been enough to silence her, but not this time. She stood up, threw off the blanket, and marched toward the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" he asked, grabbing her arm.

"If you won't help me, then I'll do it myself," Angela replied, a look of steely determination in her eyes. "Let me go, Severus. I'm warning you."

"No," he insisted. His black eyes narrowed. "You're not going anywhere."

"Then I'm sorry, but you leave me no choice."

Angela hammered his arm from her wrist and wrenched free from his grasp. Then she landed a kick and several blows to his body, before turning and fleeing the room. Snape was caught completely off guard. He doubled over in pain. A stream of vituperation escaped his lips. He pulled out his wand and fired off a couple of hexes to stop her, but she had dodged out of reach.

Meanwhile, Madam Pomfrey had returned to the infirmary with her arms full of potions and supplies. She arrived just in time to witness Angela's flight. She dropped her load on the nearest bed and ran to Snape's aid. Fuming, Snape straightened up and pushed Madam Pomfrey away. Then he ran out of the room in pursuit of Angela with his wand drawn.

Instead of heading for the exit, Angela sprinted to the stairwell leading to Dumbledore's office. She stopped in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance. Her lips uttered every password that came to mind, but the gargoyle would not let her pass. Then she dropped to her knees and begged it to let her in. Filled with despair, she threw herself down on the steps and wept into her arms.

"Please, help me, Headmaster," she sobbed. "There's nowhere else that I can turn. Please, you must help me."

An eerie, but strangely beautiful birdsong floated down from Dumbledore's office. Angela stopped crying and looked up through her tear-filled eyes. A songbird with feathers of crimson and gold swooped down from the rafters and landed near Angela's head. The bird hopped over to her, settled on her arm, and rested its head against hers. She felt something wet drip onto her forehead. She touched her brow and the blood was gone. Startled, she checked her reflection in a nearby suit of armor. The gash on her forehead had completely healed.

"Of course, phoenix tears have healing power," she whispered to the bird. A hopeful look flashed across her face. She smiled through her tears. "Oh, Fawkes, you wonderful bird! You must go to him. You must find Remus for me. He's in the woods behind our cottage in Beecher's Knoll. He's badly hurt. He needs your help. Look for a wounded wolf."

The bird cooed in response, as if it understood her every word. It prepared to leave, but Angela spoke again.

"Wait! There's one more thing. If you find him, give him this." She took off the locket that she wore around her neck and placed it on the floor in front of the phoenix. "It will bring him comfort. He will know that I have sent you and that we are safe. If you do not find him, bring it back to me. Then I will know that there is no more hope for him. Now, fly, Fawkes, fly!"

The bird cooed once more and picked up the locket in its beak. Then it flew to the rafters and disappeared in a flash of fire and scarlet feathers. Angela watched it go with her hope restored. Then she lay back down on the cold stone floor, too exhausted and weak to go any further.

Angela heard footsteps approaching from behind. She raised her head to see Snape towering over her. His fist clutched his wand, aimed at her chest. His white lips were pressed together in suppressed fury. His dark eyes glistened with a dangerous glare.

"Angela," he spat, with his wand pointed at her. "I am taking you back to the Hospital Wing. And none of your Muggle tricks this time."

Angela looked up at him and nodded. All her strength was exhausted. Her will to fight had gone. He held out his hand to her. She struggled to her feet and grasped hold of his arm to steady herself.

The walk back to the infirmary seemed interminable. She leaned upon Snape's shoulder, clinging to him for support. Every step required more effort than she could muster. At last, she could will herself to go no further. She swooned, her vision fading to black.

* * * * * * * *

Angela's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, she had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there. The room kept spinning in and out of focus. Slowly, she began to recognize the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey leaning over her. Her memory came flooding back: the floor rising to meet her, Snape with his wand pointed at her, Fawkes taking wing...

She felt very ill. She leaned over the edge of the bed and retched, vomiting onto the floor at Madam Pomfrey's feet. Her body sank back onto the mattress, shaking violently from shock.

"Severus, hold her up," commanded the Healer. "She needs a Calming Draught." Madam Pomfrey grabbed a large bottle of potion and poured some into a goblet. She turned to Angela. "Here, dear, drink this. In your condition, you should have stayed here, instead of running off."

Angela attempted to steady the goblet in her trembling fingers. Then she took a deep draught and handed the cup back to Madam Pomfrey.

"Oh, no, dear," said the Healer. "The whole thing."

Angela's hand took the goblet once more. She drained the cup, then she sank back down on the bed. Her body still quivered, but her mind was more placid.

"That's a good girl," said Madam Pomfrey, inspecting the goblet and then Angela's face. "What happened to the cut on your forehead?"

"Fawkes," interrupted Snape.

"Oh?" replied the Healer, her eyebrows raised. "Well, that's one less wound. Well, thank you, Severus. I think I can take over from here. I'll call you, if I need you."

"Good night, then," Snape replied.

He nodded to Madam Pomfrey and turned to go. But Angela grabbed his arm.

"Thank you, Severus," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching.

Then he spun around and swept from the room. Once he was gone, Madam Pomfrey bathed Angela's face, neck, and arms with warm water. Then she examined her for injuries.

"We really should get you out of those clothes and into a nightgown, but I don't think that you have the strength. So dear, where else are you hurt?"

"I'm mostly just bruised from being hit by falling objects," Angela responded in a hoarse whisper. "But there was the Cruciatus Curse."

Madam Pomfrey gasped. "I'm going to give you a Sleeping Tonic then." Her hands pulled a warm blanket up over Angela and tucked it around her. "And you must rest."

"You should know that I'm nursing the babies," Angela said, twisting her head to look for her children. "It won't hurt them, will it? Are they all right?"

"They're fine, dear." Madam Pomfrey pointed to two sleeping forms, swaddled in blankets in a crib next to Angela's bed. "See, they're sleeping soundly. All tuckered out after their ordeal." Then she stroked Angela's hair with a comforting pat. "But I very much doubt that you'll nurse them again. Most women lose their ability to lactate after a scare. The milk just dries up. I'm sorry, but you should know the truth." A heavy sigh escaped her lips. "You need to rest now."

Angela's hand reached through the bars of the crib and caressed little Sirius' head. He was fast asleep, peaceful and still. James lay next to him, a sweet expression on his face. Her eyes watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his tiny chest. She stared, comforted by the knowledge that they were now safe from harm. Then she lay back down, pulled the blanket around her, and closed her tear-filled eyes. Exhaustion overtook her and she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * * * * * * *

An hour later, the sound of birdsong awakened her. She opened her eyes in the dimly lit infirmary and saw Fawkes sitting on her chest. She felt a healing warmth surge through her body. Her hand stroked his fiery-colored plumage. She noticed that he no longer carried the locket. A blithe smile crept over her lips, the first real joy that she had known since the attack began.

"You found him then," she whispered.

The bird cooed and flapped his wings. He flew out of the room and disappeared. Angela closed her eyes. Imagining that she was back in her own bed with her husband beside her, she slept more peacefully this time.