Through Darkness and Light

Chapter 6

Hidden Meanings

A lingering smile crept on Remus's face. The house elves sure outdid themselves this year. Orange banners circled pillars and pumpkins soared above their heads.

"I think I ate too much."

"At least we put some meat on you," Flitwick said. "You were so skinny; I thought the students would run you into the ground."

"Food has nothing to do with it, my days are still numbered. Every class with Fred and George Weasley I ask myself, 'Will this be my last day?"

"Too right you are, but don't think there isn't a teacher here who doesn't feel that way when it comes to those two troublemakers."

"Three, actually, you're forgetting Shra."

Flitwick chuckled. "Indeed, speaking of which, I don't see her. Do you think Calrheane forbade her to come?"

"If she did, I wouldn't blame her."

"How cruel; Remus, how could you say such a thing? And here I put extra on my plate for her."

"That is precisely the reason why Calrheane would have done so. You know Shra's manners are only getting worse."

"Hey! Now I'm not the only one who spoils her."

There was a movement to the left and he tensed. Snape sat at attention, a scowl so deep it seemed etched into his features. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at Remus.

In that instant, the worn stitching on his robes was more prominent, the bright lights accenting his shabby clothes compared to the teachers finest. And with these feelings of inadequacy, he unconsciously sought the one person who could push them aside.

Calrheane listened to Hagrid, an easy smile gracing her face. It was Dumbledore's idea to seat them together and he was glad to see a spark of happiness had returned to his large friend. Yet, there was also a part that hoped she would sit with him.

It was strange, somewhere along the way he had grown accustomed to her presence. She no longer set the werewolf on edge, for which he was grateful.

This friendship came out of nowhere, catching him off balance and unsure. After Lily and James's death, he vowed never to trust again. Yet, he found himself wanting to trust her.

"She's fitting in," Flitwick said, following Remus's gaze.

"Yes, she is. I tend to forget that she doesn't understand everything about our world, but she's learning."

Flitwick nodded. "I'm pleased to see Dumbledore was right again, but when is he not?"

Even though Flitwick spoke in a joking manner, his words grabbed Remus's attention. "Right about what?"

"The students have accepted an elf as their teacher. That's helped a great deal in her defense with the Governors."

"Governors?"

"The Council called for an evaluation."

His breath caught and he looked sharply at Flitwick. "You mean inquisition."

"That's right."

"How is that you know?" And I don't, Remus wanted to add.

"I was asked to testify, that's the only reason I found out. The Minister wanted to keep this quiet; after all he can't have his newest celebrity being sent to trial."

The Governors despised any change, especially when it compromised their authority. Calrheane's very presence signified this, her knowledge of the past a powerful tool in the right hands.

He should have expected this, but why didn't she tell him?

"The governors want her registered as a non-human and subject to the rights of magical creatures."

"You mean no rights at all." He gripped his cloak. "Who's heading this?"

"Lucius Malfoy."

"I see," Remus said in a calm, controlled voice not betraying the raging emotions inside him. "And the outcome?"

"Fudge declared that they had no jurisdiction unless her actions caused harm."

"Then why is her case still pending?"

"The Ministry's got to control someone with Black still on the run. They need to feel secure in their power and she is the perfect target."

"Some things will never change," he said, ignoring the mention of Sirius.

"I'm afraid you're right my friend, politics is a fickle business. But let's leave such dreary talk for a less festive occasion. I've noticed you and Calrheane have been getting along rather well."

Remus took a deep breath. He knew that this conversation was bound to come up at some point.

"We are friends, nothing more."

"Of course; it was just an observation from me and a few other teachers."

"We have an understanding with each other, Flitwick. She's not afraid of me." And I am not of her.

But how could he explain this bond to Flitwick or anyone else?

His black blood set him apart, an invisible barrier that stood between him and the rest of the world. Not even the Marauders fully understood the taint.

With Calrheane, everything felt different. She understood without asking, a knowing look in her eyes when a full moon approached. But it was more than that; her tender smiles sought comfort from him as well.

Remus smiled across the hall when she saw him, knowing he was under the scrutinizing eye of Flitwick. However, Calrheane didn't smile back, but continued to stare. Her eyes were cold.

His cheery mood bleached away and he tugged at the collar of his robes. "I think I'm calling in for the night. The potion takes more out of me than I realize."

"Of course, if you need anything be sure to let me know."

"Thank you."

He stood and swept his robes behind him. He clapped a few teachers on the back and said goodnight.

The corridor was empty and torches blazed along the wall. His feet tapped on the stone floor.

"Were you not enjoying yourself?"

Remus jerked forward. "Would you please in the future, not do that."

Calrheane stood, her head tilted. "Did you not hear my approach?"

"Most people, me included, are not used to an elf sneaking behind them."

"Sneak?" she smiled. "A word used by those not keen enough to hear when someone draws near."

"Well, with you around at least I'll be prepared. Then again, being scared out of my mind isn't good either, especially since I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Nor are you old."

"Maybe not, but I look far older than I should. An effect of my condition I'm afraid."

"Your gray hairs?"

"Of course there's more to it than that..."

She grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him. "I do not see what you speak of."

There was knowledge in her gaze, a glimpse into all she'd seen. A ravine opened and he finally saw the implications of this friendship. She would live forever with him nothing more than a passing memory.

"It's nothing." He shook her hand free. "Just stop looking at me like that. It's like you can see my soul."

"My apologies; that was not my intent."

She strode down the hall and he followed after her, already regretting his hasty words. Only on rare occasions did she close herself off and he missed the openness of expressions. He wanted her to trust him.

But what else was he to say? There were certain thoughts best left alone and her immortality was one of them.

"Look, I didn't mean what I said."

She nodded though her pace did not slow.

He needed something to draw away the tension and remembered what Flitwick had said. "I heard that you are having troubles with the Governors."

Her steps faltered but she recovered in that graceful, elf-way. "I did not wish you to know."

"Yeah, I assumed that."

"You misunderstand. The Governors desired that I be a creature with no rights; someone to be controlled. I knew how that would affect you."

"Friendship requires you to deal with painful memories or situations, but you do them anyway without regret. That's what friends do for each other."

"Friends," she said quietly, "in my time, I knew such people as companions. It would be nice to have a companion here."

He chuckled at the way she said the word 'nice.' Modern terms sounded foreign whenever she said them, not quite fitting with her elven composure.

"That would be wonderful."

He realized they had gone some distance from the Great Hall. Shadows surrounded them, dancing off the walls to their own tune from the flickering torchlight. The night felt a bit too cold, a chill that swept past his robes.

"I doubt you called me out here to talk about the past."

Her smile faltered and she scanned the corridor, eyebrows drawn together.

Dread filled him. "What's wrong?"

"I'm unsure. I feel restless. Something is blocking my sight; a thin veil distorting the fëa. I can feel it, almost touch it. I know it's there, but..." she shook her head.

After two months in her company Remus had learned a few things about elven magic. It worried him that there was something going on that she didn't understand.

The werewolf was on alert. There was desire within his blood, the thirst to find and conquer this power she spoke of.

"Calrheane, tell me," he said, his voice tense as he pushed aside all thoughts of the werewolf. "Is it Black? Voldemort?"

Her demeanor changed and her face contorted in pain. Her hand clutched his shoulder and she doubled over.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He held out his wand, steady and unwavering. "Calrheane?"

"Something has distorted the fëa, his cage is weakening."

Remus adjusted his grip, holding her closer to him. "What cage? Who?"

The intense look in her eyes as she stared at the ground, he knew she was viewing the fëa world. But something was different.

"The world is changing. It is no longer as you remember it." Her voice was distant, as if she wasn't really talking to him, but across time.

"What do you mean?"

"There are other evils in this world, ancient ones that have been sleeping since the First Age."

Her words echoed in the very air around him and his world shrunk. Time stretched between them, pushing them further apart. He felt their friendship bend and crack at the edges. All the while she stood there, not offering any explanation.

The hairs on his arm stood on end. Ancient magic cracked in the air and he flinched back.

The werewolf howled and scratched against his insides, straining to save itself.

Then he felt. Magic crashed into him from behind, the force of it so strong they both fell to their knees. He heard Calrheane call out and he reached for her, but he was fighting against a current.

There was another wave, different than the first. This one was darker, fouler. Veins of ice circled around him. Let go, it whispered, give into your power.

Was he really hearing a voice? Or was it just his imagination?

A blue light engulfed the corridor, driving back the wild magic.

Remus's body hit the stone floor, the force jolting him out of his stupor. His head swam and he blinked, causing the blurry images around him to clear.

"What...?"

Calrheane's fingers dug into his arm. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," he answered and slowly got to his feet. "Just a bit dizzy. What was that?"

"I do not know. It felt familiar to me, but I've never..." she shook her head. "We should hurry. Others may need our aid."

"Wait," he said, grabbing her arm before she could pull away. "Did you hear a voice just now?"

The grip she had on him tightened and her face paled. "Voice? There was no voice."

"But..." So it was his imagination, but then why did it feel so real?

He felt her hand on his face, a light brush against his forehead. "Are you sure you're well?"

Remus nodded. "We should go. I'll be fine."

"Very well." She helped him up, using her body to steady him for which he was grateful.

"That magic took a lot out of me. I can hardly stand."

"I am not surprised. What we felt was a spell gone awry; it was ancient magic meant to destroy. By rights we should both be unconscious."

"What? But you said that you didn't know what it was."

"I don't, not really. However, the force behind the spell is unmistakable. It must have been meant for another."

They made their way down the hall and eventually Remus straightened himself. With each step his strength returned. Or maybe it was just his nerves. It had been too long since his days in the Order.

"What was it that you spoke of?" he asked, recalling what she said before the attack. "You went distant all of a sudden and mentioned an ancient evil."

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "I'm not entirely positive what I said. I was not myself."

She seemed nervous all of a sudden, her eyes on the ground.

"You know, don't you?" he asked, his voice harsh. "You said the world was changing. What were you talking about?"

"The spirits were speaking through me. It happens from time to time, though it has been awhile. Wait," she stopped and he nearly ran into her.

"What is it?"

She knelt and brushed her hand across the ground. "Sirius Black."

The world spun and her words passed over Remus in a slow arc. Time seemed suspended. He felt himself running down the hallway, but his legs were rooted in place.

"What do you mean? How do you know?"

"I recognized his spirit. The Gryffindor tower; that's the direction his fëa is coming from."

Without saying anything more, he ran down the hallway, adrenaline pumping through him. Even through his anger he felt a cold fear in his stomach.

How had Black gotten past the dementors? Could it be...? No, not his ability as an Animagus; there must be another reason. He should tell Dumbledore the truth, but fear held him back. He had betrayed Dumbledore's trust all those years ago and even now he couldn't own up to it.

Each hall passed in a blur, his mind focused on the portrait of the Fat Lady.

They raced up another flight of stairs, and his feet stumbled up the steps. He reached the top and froze. Strips of the Fat Lady's canvas littered the floor and several sheets hung limp from her vacant portrait.

A fear he hadn't felt in twelve years hit him square in the chest. Once again Remus saw the evil his friend had become.

"Sirius."

Peeves the poltergeist floated above them chuckling, but Remus couldn't find the energy to really care. Calrheane moved toward the painting and ran her fingers along the jagged edges.

Remus knelt and picked up a piece of canvas on the ground. "Do you feel anything?"

She nodded and was about to say something when the voices drifted towards them. A few seconds later a crowd of students came into view, clamoring up the steps towards the portrait.

"What's going on?"

"What happened?"

"What's the holdup here? At least a few of you should remember the password. Move aside, I'm Head Boy." Percy Weasley pushed his way through. "Professors what's going on...?" His eyes widened. "Someone go fetch Professor Dumbledore! Now!"

Ron, Hermione and Harry shoved their way to the front.

He's safe, thought Remus.

The crowd parted to let Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape through.

Dumbledore took a quick look at the painting and turned his attention to Calrheane and Remus. "We need to find her. Go get Mr. Filch. Search through all the paintings."

"You'll be lucky," chanted Peeves above them.

"What do you mean?" asked Dumbledore.

"Ashamed, Your Headship. Doesn't want to be seen, I saw her sprinting through a picture on the fourth floor."

"Did she say who did it?" asked Dumbledore.

"Of course she did. Didn't like being denied entrance." Peeves did a small flip in the air. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Silence fell. No one spoke except for Peeves, his cackles echoing as he disappeared into a wall.

"Percy, take all the students to the Great Hall and wait there," commanded Dumbledore.

Harry's focus lingered on Remus before traveling to the destroyed portrait and then left with the rest of the students. If there was a way Remus could comfort Harry he would do so in a heartbeat.

"We'll need to search the whole ground, every potential hiding spot," Dumbledore commanded. "We may not find him, but perhaps a clue as to how he got in. Minerva you and Flitch secure the castle."

Snape said with contempt in his voice, "Are you sure, Lupin, you can't think of some place Black might be hiding? I mean if any of us had any idea, we would tell Dumbledore in a heartbeat."

The canvas Remus held fluttered to the ground.

"Severus!" McGonagall shrieked, "You above all should understand the trust Dumbledore puts in each one of his teachers."

"And what of that power we all felt?" Snape's gaze traveled to Calrheane. "Was that of Black's making as well, or was it someone else's?"

All eyes turned to the elf and Remus felt that same curiosity within himself.

"I know not what it was."

"Interesting," Snape continued, "after all it was ancient magic. That much was quite clear. But where could Black, if it was even him, have learned to use it?"

"Headmaster, I think it would be prudent to start the search. Finding Black," Remus said with conviction at Snape, "is our top priority."

Dumbledore regarded Remus, Calrheane and Snape. The way he seemed to be aware of everything going on around him, he really wasn't acting much different than Calrheane. Perhaps he had some elf in him.

"Severus, if you would look through the dungeon? Minerva, please take Mr. Filch and secure the castle."

"Of course, Headmaster." Snape glared at Remus before hurrying off with McGonagall right behind him.

"Calrheane, go speak with the dementors. I will join you after ensuring that the students are safe."

She turned to go, but Dumbledore warned, "Whatever happens, do not let them in."

"They will not enter." She looked at Remus and it seemed that she was searching for something.

He averted his eyes to the ground. She could search her own soul for once. From the corner of his eye he saw the train of skirt flutter past as she maneuvered down the stairs.

Remus could think of a million scenarios that were going through Dumbledore's head, all of which involved Remus helping Sirius. And hadn't he?

After all here was the perfect opportunity to tell Dumbledore the truth about Sirius being an Animagus. But the words wouldn't come.

"Do you have any idea how Black could have entered Hogwarts?"

"No, Professor. There are a few spots we were familiar with though."

Dumbledore gazed into Remus's eyes. "Good. Start with those places. Let me know as soon as possible what you find."

Remus's shoulders sagged, the weight of his lies crushing down on him.

He ran in the opposite direction of everyone else knowing none would find Black, but it didn't matter. He'd search all night.