Claire De Lune

Claire De Lune

Chapter Two: Foreshadowing

An eerie silence fell upon the group. Almost at once, four pairs of wide, gaping eyes fixated upon Lupin, who was only vaguely aware of the incredulous stares he was receiving. He was still gazing at the amulet in his hand; one could almost see the wheels turning in his head. During the long, pregnant pause, Hermione's articulate mind sprung back to life faster than the others', and she said,

"That--that can't be. I mean--remember that time Harry and Dumbledore searched for one of the Horcruxes? There were a lot of obstacles: Inferi, that odd potion, the cave . . . don't you think he would've made a more challenging defense than werewolves?"

"Oh, so you think feral werewolves aren't enough of a challenge yet?" snapped Ron.

"No, I meant--" began Hermione hotly, but Lupin cut her off.

"I know what you mean, Hermione," he stated in a calm, low voice, his eyes never leaving the jewel. "Voldemort did create a very trying task. He broke the amulet in half. Harry and Mad-Eye have already found the first half, but we still have to search for the other one."

"Do you have any idea where it is?" Hermione turned to Moody this time.

The elderly man shook his head. "No, I don't. No one does, in fact. It was the old werewolf myth that spurred my curiousity, and that's what led Potter and myself into The Dirge. I don't know if there are any more details to it. When I searched the pub previously with several other Aurors, I knew the werewolves were hiding something. I took Potter with me to check if whatever they were hiding was still there." He turned to Lupin as he said this. "Maybe Remus can help us to understand this better."

"I know nothing about what Voldemort did with the other half, but I have a very, very small idea," responded Lupin, finally raising his head to look at them. There was a strange expression in his eyes, as if there was something incessantly bothering him that he couldn't figure out. His stare repeatedly went back and forth from Hermione to the amulet. The puzzled teenager eyed him warily.

"Go on, Professor," said Hermione slowly.

"The general truth of the matter is that werewolves in the ancient times used to rely on the amulet for strength and power," explained Lupin. "It is believed to hold the power of the moon. Once a werewolf wears it, he can go on for days without transforming back to his human self.

"The fact that Harry and Mad-Eye found this in The Dirge spurred my belief that Voldemort once had this in his hands. You see, The Dirge was constructed by Fenrir Greyback."

"What?" blurted Harry, his eyes wide. Realization dawned on his face. "Greyback is a Death Eater, which means . . ."

"Voldemort and Greyback were in it together," finished Hermione in a whisper. She and Harry exchanged anxious looks.

"It makes sense." Moody nodded, gripping his cup tightly. "Greyback probably used this to further his steps to become fully feral."

"Do you think he gave it to Voldemort to use in exchange for a reward?" offered Ron, eager to participate in the brainstorming.

"Highly possible," agreed Lupin. "The mindset of Death Eaters is that being able to do something for their master is the greatest reward of all, because if Voldemort is pleased with them, they know they'd receive more power. It's what drew them to him in the first place. If Voldemort gave Greyback the responsibility of guarding his Horcrux, Greyback would have seen that as a huge, huge honor."

"So now, how do we find out where the other piece is?" asked Hermione.

There was that odd look again, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Lupin, probably sensing her uneasiness, pried his eyes away and handed the amulet to Harry.

"There's only one way," he responded softly. "We have to determine when Voldemort made this amulet into a Horcrux. Once we have gathered that information, we can move on."

"And how do we do that?" inquired Harry.

"There is a simple spell that we can use," answered Moody, drawing his wand. "You should know about this Potter; you're familiar with it."

When he received a baffled look from the young man, the ex-Auror chuckled. "Watch, Potter. Perhaps this will refresh your memory. Hold it up nice and high, now."

Harry did as he was told, and Moody took careful aim at the amulet. "Priori Incantato!"

A spine tingling howl that caused the hairs on Hermione's neck to stand on end issued from the amulet, followed by an indistinct smoky haze. They all watched in anticipation as the smoke swirled to form a twisted form of Voldemort's face. The image gradually disappeared, as if being swept by the wind, to reveal another form of a man, whose face was twisted in pain. His bloodcurdling cries echoed throughout the room, and Hermione grabbed both Harry and Ron's hands in fright. Moody and Lupin looked dumbstruck.

When the smoke finally vanished, Hermione swallowed slowly and looked at the two adults. Moody had his face in his hands, his body shaking.

Lupin turned a pale face upon them. "That--that was Benjy Fenwick, one of the members of the Order." His voice trembled as he spoke. "All we found of him was his body in mangled pieces. We never thought . . . we never knew . . ."

"When was he murdered?" asked Harry softly. Hermione gazed at Lupin; she had never seen him so frightened, so vulnerable before. It looked like something huge was gnawing at him from the inside. In spite of the pained look on his face tugging at her heartstrings, she managed a small, comforting smile when he looked back at her.

Moody raised his head, and Hermione was surprised to find the elderly man's face indifferent. "He was murdered on the night of August 27, 1980, Potter. Voldemort forged his fourth Horcrux a few weeks after you were born."

*

Rain lashed angrily at the windows, nearly shattering the fragile glass in its wrath. The howling wind sent goose bumps running down the back of Hermione's neck as she peered outside, observing the curtain of water that burst forth from the depressing sky. She, Harry, and Ron were in the den, trying to find something productive to do while the adults were upstairs in Lupin's bedroom, speaking to the other Order members.

Harry was lying on the ancient rug by the fireplace, his arms crossed behind his head, his tired eyes directed towards the ceiling. Ron lounged in a nearby rocking chair, his long legs propped up on one of the arm rests. A look of boredom mixed with frustration played on his face.

It had been almost a month since Bellatrix Lestrange attempted to claim ownership over 12 Grimmauld Place. Moody had demanded that the Order of the Phoenix disperse for the time being to avoid the risk of a Death Eater raid. The members had been communicating with each other via the Floo Network and their Patronuses, and no one knew when this stringent exercise would be lifted.

Now, with only the fireplace in Lupin's bedroom connected to the Floo Network, Hermione, Harry, and Ron were forced to wait until the two elders returned. It had been over an hour.

"Tell me again why we have to wait?" groaned Ron, stretching his arms high above his head.

"If a dozen times can't make it into that thick skull of yours, Ron, then I doubt a thirteenth time will be a success," said Hermione tartly, leaving her gloomy spot by the window to sit on the couch next to Harry. Her best friend looked up at her and smirked.

"I think the weather is getting to you, Hermione," he teased as he rolled over onto his stomach. "Either that, or you're still being an annoying prat, Ron."

"Oh, shut up," yawned Ron, rising from the rocking chair and joining Hermione on the couch. Harry pulled himself into a seated position and gazed up at his two best friends.

"Did Lestrange ever come back after that first attempt on Grimmauld Place?" he inquired.

"No one knows," answered Hermione, fingering a torn seam on a delicately embroidered cushion. "Moody ordered us all to leave after Tonks reported it, remember?"

"Yeah," yawned Harry. He took his glasses off and started wiping them on his shirt. "I just hoped that, you know--I just turned seventeen a few days ago, and I want to formally claim 12 Grimmauld Place. I don't have the protection I had with the Dursleys anymore."

"Can Sirius's house give you back the needed protection, though?" asked Ron, eyeing him in concern.

Harry smiled grimly. "No, but it's too well-concealed for Voldemort to find me there, unless dear old Bella tips him off."

There was a moment of silence, and two pairs of worried eyes fixated on Harry's face. Hermione felt her chest tighten. They had agreed to try to address the situation as normally and as casually as possible, but every time they discussed it, she felt as if an iron fist was crushing her heart into dust. She couldn't just talk about it knowing that she and Ron really didn't have any say in the final duel. It all came down to Harry and Voldemort. It was, and always would be, about the both of them.

Suddenly, there was a noise from the hallway, and the three of them looked up, surprised. The dull clonk, clonk of Moody's wooden leg gradually increased in volume, and after a few moments, his mangled figure appeared in the doorway. Lupin was behind him.

"What happened? What did the members say?" queried Ron, his voice raising a notch or two with excitement.

Breathing deeply, Lupin walked towards them, closely followed by Moody. The two adults stood before them, extremely grave looks on their faces. Moody gave a permissive nod, and Lupin cleared his throat.

"The Order has come to a very--debatable decision, although Mad-Eye and I think that it's the best solution to this," he said, leaning against the mantle for support. He continued, "We know that Voldemort murdered--murdered Benjy in order to create this Horcrux. We know when and where he was killed. That's enough information we need to track it down, although we will violate about fifty Ministry rules in the pro--"

"It doesn't really matter if we were to break a thousand Ministry rules," interrupted Moody, "seeing as our government has lost its competence, but nevertheless--"

"It's still absolutely necessary that we do this, thank you, Mad-Eye," said Lupin firmly, shooting the ex-Auror a warning look, as if to scold him for voicing his already well-known opinion of the Ministry. Acknowledging this, Moody made a gruff noise in his throat and jerked his head. Lupin turned back to the three teenagers.

"The only way to trace this amulet to its beginnings is to go back in time," he explained. "This means that one of us will have to go back in time a few days before Benjy's death. He can lead us to Voldemort and what became of the second half."

"But Professor," interjected Hermione. "All the Time-Turners were smashed, remember? We smashed them when we... er...." She cowered under Harry's furious glare. Lupin nodded in understanding.

"That has come to our attention, Hermione, but there are other ways to travel in time. We're lucky to have McGonagall on our team; even I was surprised to find that she knows more about time travel than anyone I know."

"So who are we sending, then?" inquired Ron. "They shouldn't run into their previous selves, right?"

"Right," agreed Lupin. "So our choices involved the three of you and Tonks."

"I'll go," said Harry at once, talking for the first time since Lupin relayed the details of the meeting. "It's my mission to hunt the Horcruxes, not anyone else's."

Both Lupin and Moody shook their heads decisively. "No."

Harry looked outraged. "What? Why not? This is my battle, remember? I can't just stand back and watch someone else do my job for me!"

"It's too risky, Harry," stated Lupin placidly. "If you get injured, or--Merlin forbid--die in the past, no one else is capable of defeating Voldemort but you, and the wizarding world as we know it will cease to exist. No. We won't send you back."

"Who are you sending, then?" spat Harry. "Ron and Hermione?"

"Actually, we thought Granger would make an excellent choice," growled Moody.

"Me?" blurted Hermione, her eyes widening. Both Harry and Ron shouted in protest, but she couldn't really decipher what they were saying. Lupin's gaze was once again fixed on her, and she found it, quite oddly, electrifying. There was something about the intensity of his stare that made her wonder if he suggested her for the mission.

Just then, Harry gripped her arm tightly, snapping her back to stressful reality. Vivid green filled her vision, and she realized with a start that Harry's face was very close to hers.

"I won't let you go, Hermione," he whispered fiercely. "I nearly lost you in the Department of Mysteries, and I won't let that happen again, you hear me?"

"You won't lose her, Potter," said Moody reasonably. "Granger is perfectly capable of handling this mission herself."

"Oh, and I'm not?" snapped Harry.

"This isn't your choice, Harry, it's mine," asserted Hermione, her voice laced with finality. Harry's mouth fell open and he looked at her as if she had betrayed him. Hermione tried her best to ignore this, and she turned to the rest.

"I'll go."

"And what about me?" burst Ron angrily.

"Ron, you have a mission with me," said Lupin. "I'll fill you in on the details after we discuss this."

"But--but," sputtered Harry, trying to find another concrete argument for his case. Hermione looked at him, determination etched in every corner of her face.

"This is my part in the battle, Harry. Let me do this on my own. I've watched you for years, having vicious nightmares, facing horrible tasks, fighting to stay alive, and it nearly killed me. He caused us this pain, Harry, and I want to do something about it. Please let me do something about it. I just can't stand in the sidelines and watch you suffer every year. Now, it's my turn."

Harry looked as if he wanted to refute her some more, but Hermione didn't give him a chance to. Turning back to the two elders, she nodded. "I'll do it."

"Good," said Moody, his crooked mouth turning up into a curt smile. Lupin had an undecipherable look on his face. Whether it was relief, gratification, or confirmation, Hermione didn't know, but she somehow sensed that her former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was happy that she had agreed.