A Mortal Enemy

Chapter 12: Yurlome

Kara's first task was to see Sirius. His quarters were strategically close to Gryffindor Tower; a dual testament to his desire for familiar surroundings and devotion to his godson. Sirius was awake and answered quickly after the first few knocks Kara placed on his door. He was still wearing the handsome robes that he had on at dinner. His eyes looked heavy, as if he'd almost been asleep.

"Professor?" he asked, slightly shaken. He looked quickly away to avoid eye contact and pretended to check the hall for roaming eavesdroppers.

"May I step inside? I have a matter of some - sensitivity - to discuss."

Black hesitated and conveyed his suspicions in the way he stepped aside and let Kara enter. When the door was closed, Kara to turned to face the wizard and gave him no time to react to her presence.

"There has been an incident, and Severus has entered stasis," she said quickly. Sirius's reaction was as she expected. His head made a sudden jerking motion in order to let his eyes drift away from hers. He had to visibly hold back his verbal reaction several times; seemingly to rethink the words he was going to deliver. All of these things gave Kara the impression that Black knew, instantly, what had happened between her and Severus.

"What do you propose to do?" he finally asked.

"I must go to Durmstrang for two days and I will be taking a student with me. Her assistance will be required in making the potion."

"Potion?" he asked in a skeptical, but interested voice. "I thought - " a terrible pain crossed Sirius's face. "I mean... it was my understanding that stasis is irreversible."

"Under normal circumstances, yes. There is a potion, but it isn't well known and it isn't exactly legal." Sirius's eyes opened wide at these words.

"What manner of illegal potion?"

"You need not be concerned with the details. I do, however, need you to inform Minerva. Given the circumstances, I'm sure she'd rather hear it from me but I must leave immediately and I know you're perfectly capable of dealing with sensitive issues of this nature," she said bitterly. Kara then turned to go.

"Which student are you taking?" He asked quickly. Kara made no attempt to answer, wondering what kind of objections Sirius would have. "I will need to know," he warned. "McGonagall will need to know."

"I am taking Miss Granger," Kara replied quickly.

"You can't take her to Durmstrang!"

"Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, Black," she admonished. "If I want Miss Granger to assist me, she will be more than obliging."

"Her desire or yours is not what I'm referring to! A Muggle-born has never been permitted on those grounds. She'll be dead before she gets a chance to assist you!" he shouted in a frustrated tone.

"It's amusing to see the old legends still live," Kara mused. "In truth all of the anti Muggle-born lore is false. I have proven that first hand. She will see no harm while in my care, I assure you that."

Kara turned to go again but Black wasn't through.

"Why her?"

"Because it spares me the difficulty of having to tell someone else," Kara responded impatiently.

"You have already told her?"

"No, she told me." With her mind, Kara opened the door. "We will return in two days. If I'm needed, speak to your godson."

- - -

After checking in on Snape one last time, removing his outer clothing and covering his limp body with more blankets, Kara gathered her things. From her rooms she collected a singing hourglass, her wand, and several items she wouldn't expect Polishnikov to have at Durmstrang. She placed these items inside her robes. Next she took her Invisibility Cloak and two of her finest fur cloaks from the wardrobe. Her next stop was Gryffindor Tower.

When she arrived, Hermione was peaking out of the portrait, attempting to look casual.

"Hermione?" Kara heard Ron shout from inside. "What on earth are you doing?"

"I... I'm just going for a walk. I will be back soon," she replied as she inched her body out of the portrait, attempting to keep Kara's presence in the hallway concealed.

"I'll go with you." Ron then said. "Just let me go get Harry's cloak."

"No, Ron!" Hermione shouted. "I mean... I prefer to go alone tonight. I don't want you getting in trouble with Snape. He can expel you now. I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

With that, Hermione slammed the portrait shut and walked quickly past Kara, no doubt wanting to avoid discussing the implications of what 'go alone tonight' meant with her professor. Kara followed. Together they went far enough down the corridor to be out of view of the portrait, should Ron look out after Hermione.

"Here," Kara said as she held out one of her fur cloaks, shrinking it to an appropriate size and then handing it to Hermione. "You'll want this when we get there."

Hermione took the cloak, felt the fine fur and then laid it over an arm.

"We will need to find an unguarded entrance to the castle. I do not want the Aurors knowing we've left."

"We could use one of the secret passageways," Hermione offered. Kara got the feeling she had been reluctant to make the suggestion.

"Secret passageways?"

"Yes. There is one on the third floor that leads to Hogsmeade. The Aurors don't know about it."

"And how, pray tell, do you know of this?" Kara asked, forgetting for the moment what a dire crisis they were in.

"Um. Well it's on the Marauder's Map."

Kara, of course, knew of the Marauder's Map. She had seen Harry and Snape use it once. Kara heard in Hermione's eyes that Harry had used it more than once to sneak out of the castle. Now she feared she had gotten Harry into trouble.

Hermione led Kara to the third floor where she whispered Dissendium to a statue of a witch. The witch's hump opened wide and Hermione climbed in without reservation. Kara proceeded afterwards. After a half hour of walking in a low damp corridor, they found themselves sneaking out of Honeydukes in search of an appropriate Apparition point.

"We will have to Apparate, but you will need to come with me. I don't want to risk that the Ministry can still track you since you're underage. Besides, I doubt you've ever Apparate this far and we cannot risk you splinching yourself. Before we go, you will want to put your cloak on."

Kara then wrapped her own fur cloak around her as Hermione did the same. Hermione then held her hand out automatically for Kara to take. Once they had locked hands, Kara issued the Apparation spell in her mind. Moments later they were staring upon a dark hill with a lighted castle atop.

"Durmstrang?" Hermione muttered in awe.

"Very good, Miss Granger."

Kara reached up and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. Then she reached over and did the same for Hermione.

"Do not show your face until I have instructed you to. That is very important. Now walk."

The hike up the trail behind the school was most difficult, especially when dark. Without the light of a spell or the moon, it was difficult to traverse the rocky ledges and slippery slopes. It wasn't a path used often, for good reason and it was perfect for Kara's intentions. She wanted no one in the school to know they were coming and experience had taught her that no one watched the dreaded Bremin Gate.

With Kara's guidance, Hermione led the way. The heavy mink cloak was slowing her down since she was taking the warnings about showing her face seriously and was having trouble navigating the rocky path. Finally they reached a flat spot next to a dramatic escarpment. Kara reached forward and placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder to stop her walking.

"Amel Bakara," Kara spoke. A large rock the size of Hagrid became visible from the surrounding mountain and within seconds there was an open path that led into the earth. Kara reached down and grabbed Hermione's hand forcefully. She then stepped over the threshold to the dark cave within. Once inside, the portal resealed itself with a loud thud. Kara noticed Hermione turn and watch in horror as they were locked inside.

"Come," Kara said confidently as if she could reassure Hermione with a single word.

This passageway into Durmstrang was nearly as bad as the back trail that led up to it. It was horribly cold, damp and the walls were covered in green slime. Despite their heavy cloaks, both Kara and Hermione shivered from the biting environment. Kara sped their walking up as she took out her wand and said Lumos. She had brought the wand intentionally for there was no telling who or what they would come across. Even in the bowels of Durmstrang, an Oracle was not welcome.

In some places the passageways were narrow where crudely hollowed out arches separated mini-chambers from one another. Here, one could only pass if turned sideways, and then sometimes even a person would barely fit. Kara had made this trip amongst the slime many times before and with great relief she noted Hermione did not skulk away from this darkness as had been expected. Not even the spiders seemed to disturb her. She did not gasp in fear when they were covering the way forward. She merely dodged them, taking care not to alarm or disturb the creatures and their homes. It was as if walking in a strange dark passageway was an everyday occurrence in her life.

By the time they had climbed well towards the castle they were nearly frozen solid and if it weren't for the shivering, Kara would have assume Hermione felt perfectly at home with the situation; that is until they crept out of the other end of the cave and spilled into the dungeons.

There, standing as if everything was right in the world, was Bremin - namesake of the gate. He was an old ghost, although Kara couldn't remember precisely how old (she had known at one time). He had long spindly strands of gray hair and even in his translucent form you could tell he had probably never washed it when he was alive. His face was pure horror, with a sagging mouth that revealed he had no teeth and a horribly broken nose. The only things remotely normal about his appearance were his eyes and even they were small and beady. After taking in the initial sight of him, Hermione curled away and slightly behind Kara. Bremin grunted and floated through a wall to their right. Kara already knew where he was headed.

Instantly, she pulled out her Invisibility Cloak, unfolded it and wrapped it around her shoulders. Kara then offered the one end to Hermione who took it instinctively and enveloped her self within it. After a last minute spot check to ensure they could not be seen, Kara nudged Hermione forward and guided her out of the dungeons.

They walked up two flights of stairs to the first floor and walked down several hallways, some of which were still bustling with staff. Kara was remarkably surprised by Hermione's discretion, only to note with disappointment that her skills were probably honed while evading Hogwarts's adults. After turning a few times and taking another flight of stairs down one level, Kara stopped them in front of a large nondescript oak door. She rapped twice on it and waited. When the door opened she pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and stared Professor Polishnikov in the eye.

Kara had been anticipating this moment for a few hours and it was just as she expected. He gave her a puzzled look, glanced once down towards the shorter individual wrapped in fur, realized it wasn't Snape and then jerked his head motioning them inside.

When the door was closed, he spoke.

"Why are you here?"

Kara didn't respond. Instead she held up her arm, pointed to the comparable spot of where his Dark Mark was and suggestively pointed to it and then her ear - a subtle way of asking if Voldemort could hear them.

"No. It's fine. I dealt with that many years ago. Now why are you here?" he demanded.

"I've come to ask a favor."

"Ah," he replied smugly. It was the reaction of a man who knew even his most intelligent students still needed him. He moved his heavy night robes out of his way and walked arrogantly to a table nearby that housed his bottle of brandy.

"What sort of favor?"

"The kind that guarantees you speak to no one of it."

"You think I'm capable of such a thing?" he asked; a loaded response that hinted heavily towards Voldemort.

"You are capable of this, I assure you." Kara gave him a half pleading, half confident look.

"Well what is it?"

"I need to make use of your private lab for two days."

"Is that all?" He picked up the decanter and began to pour. "You came all this way in the middle of the night to use the lab?"

Kara let the question hang in the air as Polishnikov took a sip of his brandy.

"And I need a pint of Veela blood."

She waited with anticipation for his response and it was exactly as she imaged it would be. He stopped moving, leaving his brandy glass hanging in mid-air. He was visibly attempting not to shake but the brandy gave him away immediately as it swung back and forth in its container. His eyes rose to look at her and she could hear the beginnings of his deductive reasoning kick in. But before he had a chance to voice any theories out loud, the door to Polishnikov's quarters burst open and then quickly slammed shut. It seems Bremin had found what he had set off to seek.

"Professor," Kara said courteously to her mentor.

"Kara, why are you here?" Nabokov shouted, wasting no time in slipping into his authoritative role. "Any why did you come through the gate? What is wrong?"

His eyes then fell on Hermione who was peering cautiously from the shadows of the fur cloak. Nabokov, not one for letting strangers hide in his presence, stepped forward quickly. Kara moved in front of Hermione to prevent him from intimidating her young student. Nabokov gave her an incredulous look so she turned and nodded to Hermione to pull the hood of her cloak down.

"Miss Granger?" Nabokov said with half-wonder, half worry. Kara was not at all surprised that he had remembered her from their initial encounter.

"Hello Professor," Hermione said dutifully with the proper amount of deference.

"Granger?" Polishnikov now spoke up. "As in Hermione Granger?"

"Yes," answered Nabokov who then proceeded to ignore Polishnikov's response. He turned back to Kara. "I want an answer. What are you doing here?"

"Your apprentice has come to ask the impossible of me," Polishnikov said, taking over explanation of the story from Kara who was less than willing to give it. He began unbuttoning his night robes.

"What is that?" Nabokov asked.

"She has asked for a pint of Veela blood."

Nabokov gasped and leaned against a chair. Kara had never seen him so unnerved.

"What do you need a pint of Veela blood for?" he then asked.

"I would rather not say," Kara replied.

"And she doesn't need to," Polishnikov responded as he began casually pulling off his robes to reveal a white shirt underneath. He then slipped behind a dressing screen. "There are only three practical uses for Veela blood, my dear Vlad. The first is for beauty potions and as we can both see, Kara is in no need of that. I also highly doubt she has any desire to turn others into Veelas so we can rule out all Transmogrification uses. The only logical conclusion then is that she wants it for Yurlome."

"Yurlome?"

Polishnikov walked out from behind the screen.

"Stasis reversal," he answered.

Nabokov's eyes grew larger and he faced Kara. "Who?" He whispered.

Polishnikov reached up and began unrolling the sleeves of his white shirt, which up until now and been bunched up at the elbow.

"Severus, I'd bet. For I seriously doubt he would have been careless enough to let her out of the castle," he said, dipping his head in reference to Hermione. He then stretched out his arms to roll his left sleeve down and his Dark Mark came into view. Hermione gasped and began inching towards and behind Kara.

"You should be afraid, Miss Granger," Polishnikov began, sensing Hermione's fear. "Not of me, but of everyone else in this castle. Between Malfoy's ranting, your interludes with Krum and your friendship with Potter, you've developed quite the reputation."

Polishnikov then reached for his blackest set of robes from a coat rack. Beneath it, perched precariously on a hook was the porcelain white Death Eater mask. He took it as well.

"I will be back before dawn with what you need. Use the back corridor to the laboratory. Beware though that I do still let a few students use it." He opened the door. "Ezmerelda will be glad to see you," he added finally before leaving.

"How did it happen?" Nabokov began as soon as the door slammed shut.

"I couldn't even say," Kara responded, avoiding the question completely. Before her mentor could speak again, she walked towards a bookshelf and took several books from the shelf before one of them triggered a hidden passageway that led to a long corridor.

"Come," she spoke as she gestured to Hermione, who moved forward with Nabokov in tow.

Kara wasn't concerned about students being out this time of night. Durmstrang, even more so than Hogwarts, enforced its curfews. She moved quickly and without fear towards the private lab. It was, and always had been, Polishnikov's private space. Kara had only worked in it a few times, although students knew it was the wretched professor's favorite hiding spot. Rampant rumors proclaimed it as a torture chamber or where he kept his mistresses. In truth it was a beautiful, almost cheery, laboratory with limestone floors, whitewashed walls and dark wood tables for brewing potions. Kara's first experiments with Prixel poisons had been in this room and her eyes immediately dropped to the floor when she entered. She noted, with a smile, that he hadn't removed the stains from the first mistakes she had made. Perhaps it was his way of being nostalgic, or perhaps Ezmerelda had prohibited him from removing them.

Nabokov closed the door behind him and was not at all surprised when the loud clanking of the lock followed moments later at Kara's mental command. She then lit the fire.

"You do that in front of your students?" Nabokov asked incredulously. Hermione was watching them interact.

"I no longer have anything to hide and I'm about to expose Miss Granger to far worse things than wand-less magic," Kara said as she pulled off her fur cloak and motioned for Hermione to do the same. She then hung them on a coat rack nearby.

The Floo powder was still sitting in the same jar it always had been, perched on the mantle above the fire. Kara reached in, took a tiny amount and threw it in the fire.

"Ezmerelda?" she then called.

Seconds later a tiny House Elf, donned in a new blue and white pillowcase appeared at Kara's feet.

"Miss Kara?" she squeaked in surprise.

"Hello Ezmerelda," Kara replied as the House Elf wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Miss Kara should not be here!"

"I know, Ezmerelda. I will only be here for a short while, I promise," Kara replied as she noticed the House Elf's big blue eyes fall upon Hermione.

"Ezmerelda, this is Miss Hermione Granger. Miss Granger, this is Ezmerelda, Professor Polishnikov's House Elf."

"Nice to meet you Ezmerelda," Hermione replied gently in a way that reminded Kara of the fact that she held the same views on House Elf treatment. Ezmerelda was in shock however. Her eyes became big and her mouth dropped open slightly.

"You have brought Harry Potter's Hermione here? This is so unwise Miss Kara! Master surely will not approve!"

"I would dare you to name one thing I have ever done that he has approved of. Now fetch Hermione some tea, please."

"Yes Miss Kara. And for you?" Ezmerelda responded after visibly reminding herself not to argue.

"I require nothing."

"Nooooo," Ezmerelda said in a deeper voice. "You must eat! You are too skinny, Miss Kara. They must never feed you at Hogwarts! I am always saying to Master that they do not treat you well there! I will bring you your favorite!"

"I assure you that is not necessary, Ezmerelda. Now please, fetch the tea," Kara instructed while noticing the tiny House Elf inspecting the hem of her robes with tiny hands.

Ezmerelda bowed slightly and then left with a pop.

"She does miss you," Nabokov said slyly.

"No she doesn't," Kara began in defense of herself. "She just has no one else to dote over now. " Nabokov raised his eyebrows in doubt.

"Miss Granger," she then directed at Hermione "Under that table you'll find two silver cauldrons. Fetch both and clean them thoroughly with the blue rinsing potion."

Hermione nodded and energetically set out to complete the task. Nabokov took it as a sign to inch closer. He began speaking in a low voice.

"This is madness. You know you cannot give him Veela blood."

"Actually I don't know that, would you care to enlighten me as to why?" Kara asked noncommittally. She had an idea of the lecture he would give her next. Something regarding the endangerment of Snape's life, sacrificing all of their hard work and the end of his special abilities. But Kara realized she would be devastated if he never recovered, so none of the dangers seemed at all relevant.

"Don't play dumb with me Kara. I spent ample time explaining this to the both of you and if he were here, Severus would agree with me. He wouldn't be selfish like you're being now."

"How can you say that to me?" she snapped back.

"Kara..."

"No. I do not want to hear your theories and petty pleadings. I know the risks. I also know what the Oracle has told you. He cannot die because she said he will live."

"I wasn't lying or being lighthearted when I warned you about this." He then placed a hand on her forearm and Kara nearly recoiled away. Nabokov never touched anyone in casual conversation. Kara looked up into his eyes and saw pure fear in them.

"I must do this," she pushed on.

"There must be other ways."

"There aren't."

"How do you know?" he began to reason.

"Because if you do not have answers, then I don't know who would."

He sighed heavily. "Syndey may." And Kara realized he was correct. The Oracle may have the answers they need, but asking her would risk exposing that Snape had revealed too much information about the Order of the Phoenix. Kara did not want to risk that.

"Write her then if you like, but do not mention Severus. Or me. Now I must get to work."

Nabokov nodded, glanced towards Hermione who was elbow deep in dark blue suds and then walked towards the door.

"Do let me know if there is anything you need," he said before reaching for the door. Kara unlocked it in her mind for him and watched him disappear behind it.