Harry Potter and the Guardians of Nolfrima

HARRY POTTER AND THE GUARDIAN OF NOLFRIMA

Chapter One: The Tower of Isperfor

James Potter consolingly embraced the shaking Remus Lupin in his arms. Lupin lowered his quivering head onto his friend's shoulder and sobbed hysterically. James could sense that the tears descending from the werewolf's face were trickling slowly down his black robe. Lupin continued to cry and bawl, not removing his head in the slightest. It was of no concern whatsoever how long the heavy tears persisted. James would willingly permit Lupin to keep sobbing in his arms as long as necessary, if it would provide him with any comfort to alleviate the pain. James tenderly tightened Lupin, clutching him closely around the back. Rotating his head as far as he could, he perceived that his second best friend had opened his watery eyes and was choking back the sadness. James raised his arm and touched Lupin's face softly, feeling the cold, moist skin.

Remus Lupin withdrew from the embrace and approached, slowly, the window overlooking the grounds. The setting sun emanated a glorious glow that deified the castle. The windows the eyes could see shined brilliantly orange, shocking any vision. The sky immediately in front of Lupin had transformed into a majestic radiance of pink that, as it ascended, turned into purple. The shadows of the evergreens in the Forbidden Forest slowly crept up the lawn towards the front of the castle. Several students enjoying the start of the weekend played Quidditch in the stadium. Remus Lupin surveyed all of it standing before him. Had this been any other regular day, he would have derived calmness and satisfaction from such an observance.

Hands attached to his shoulders lightly. Turning his head, Remus saw that James yet again was attempting to comfort him. Beneath those black bangs, behind those reflective spectacles, one could glimpse the tears forming in James's eyes. Remus was surprised yet pacified that his friend was this compassionate about his dilemma. He had feared rejection from the Marauders for years for being a werewolf; as the truth was exposed and Sirius, Peter, and James only supported him further, Remus discovered the impenetrable consistency of loyalty. Years later, it still astounded him. Never before, though, not even at the Shrieking Shack, did he experience loyalty like this.

"Are you okay?" James asked with worry.

Remus, his eyes now concentrated on the grounds again, refused to return his gaze. After several silent seconds, he whispered softly, "I...just...can't believe it."

"Few people could cope with this. Had this happened to my parents, I would have probably gone crazy. I'm impressed with how well you're handling this." James released his clench on his shoulders, walked around Lupin, and stood immediately in front of him. Although Remus appreciated the encouragement James was offering, somehow he craved to isolate himself, to be alone, for a while. Yet he couldn't bring his feet to transport him away.

Moony gave a barely noticeable smile that Prongs returned, patting the werewolf on the back. "You'll get through this, Remus," he continued. "I know you will."

James ruffled Lupin's hair considerately. Lupin giggled like a young child. Prongs was familiar with the most effective ways of pleasing him. Both of them returned to the sofa across from Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, who were engrossed in a negative discussion about Severus Snape. Remus, sitting precariously at the edge, folded his hands between his legs and gazed at the scarlet carpet fiercely. Eyes monitoring the werewolf closely, James wrapped his arm around him, secured him in his grasp, and leaned his head closely to Lupin's ear, whispering so lowly that no one else would hear:

"May I see that letter again please?" Lupin surveyed him suspiciously, as if questioning his motives, before concluding that they were safe. He reached into his robe's pocket and withdrew it holding a parchment letter speckled with tears. Shaking as he observed that one painful word on the front flap, he handed it to James, who unfolded it and examined the words yet again.

Dear son,

I am unsure of how I best ought to begin. Your mother, a firm advocate of werewolf rights, has earned the respect of the progressive Wizarding community. Many regard her as one who could see the human being behind the flesh. Unfortunately, along with her positive influence on Wizarding politics came an avid resentment of her in the Werewolf community established by Fenrir Greyback. Your mother, aware of the implications her position, persisted in spite of the growing threats. Fenrir Greyback has finally achieved the threat he formulated many years ago.

Last night, as I was working overtime on the Underground, he arrived at our house, captured your mother, and kidnapped her, taking her to the Tower of Isperfor. He left a note, saying he will delay "biting" her for a week. He has offered to either allow escape if she agrees to relent in her campaigns for werewolf equality or will tear her into pieces if she refuses. Obviously, it is unlikely that she will concede to his demands. Therefore, I have alerted the Ministry of Magic and the Order of the Phoenix, who are cooperating like never before to ensure her welfare. Countless people are already praying for her safety. I'm convinced that the authorities will succeed in recovering her.

Albus Dumbledore has agreed that you can leave school temporarily due to this. I will collect you in Hogsmeade at the Three Broomsticks by means of Floo Powder tomorrow at six in the morning.

Love,

Dad

Remus peered over James's shoulder to read the letter for what seemed like the umpteenth time. No matter how many times his eyes traveled over these words, he could not comprehend what they meant. Fenrir Greyback, the most violent werewolf in all of history, had kidnapped his mother and was threatening to murder her. He couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that his mother could possibly lose her life. The woman who had always cared and consoled him could die. He couldn't bear to even envision it. Tears reappeared in his eyes.

Four words reverberated in his mind more than any other: The Tower of Isperfor. Although Lupin rarely expressed an interest in History of Magic taught by Professor Binns, he could vividly recall the lesson given two months ago on the Tower. Constructed by Salazar Slytherin after he left Hogwarts, the Tower of Isperfor served as his private dominion from which to launch his campaign to overwhelm Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw. The Tower, built of only stone like all castles, stood over five hundred feet tall on an unknown island in the far reaches of the Arctic Ocean, unplottable. From the Tower, Slytherin asserted, he would wage war on the Wizarding community to eliminate from it any trace of Muggle blood. Collecting a fathomless army of dementors, inferi, giants, he prepared to engage in the greatest battle in history, exterminating all Muggles from existence to establish a purely Wizard state. Slytherin, before commencing the invasion, also established the Knights of Walpurgis that would seek to undermine Muggles from within the Wizarding community.

On the day of the invasion a grand army arrived on the shores of England. Unprepared for the war, countless communities fell, hundreds died -- evidently Slytherin would dominate and stand victorious. Then Gryffindor organized an offensive on the southern countryside, using an army comprised of willing wizards and witches and centaurs. The battle, lasting three days, ended with Gryffindor barely prevailing and Salazar Slytherin dropping both wand and sword. He surrendered the Tower of Isperfor to Gryffindor. The winners sailed to locate the Tower and demolish it. However, they couldn't locate it and eventually accepted they never would. As for Slytherin, he disappeared, never to be heard from again. Rumor ran rampant in medieval time that he had somehow managed to return to the Tower and that Gryffindor had been too lenient on him. As the centuries advanced, many Wizarding historians concluded that, like the Chamber of Secrets, only the Heir of Slytherin could access the Tower of Isperfor. No evidence existed contradicting or confirming this hypothesis.

Then, as it almost approached being obsolete, the Tower of Isperfor crawled into thoughts yet again, for Lord Voldemort claimed he was controlling his forces from there. No one, as before, could confirm whether this claim was truthful.

Now, as Remus Lupin reviewed the letter again, he realized that his mother, if rescued, could verify whether the Tower existed and settle the controversy once and for all. He didn't care whether it did, though; his only concern was that his mother survived.

Lupin noticed that James was observing him caringly again. He wished that Prongs would place his eyes elsewhere. For the time being, the only person with whom he desired to communicate was his mother and no one else. Nothing else mattered except her.

.................................................................................................................................

It was at this moment, a thousand miles away, that Lord Voldemort opened a door on the fortieth floor of the Tower of Isperfor. A wind whistled longingly down the corridor in front of him. Torches flickered. Water dripped from the stone ceiling onto the floor. Moonlight fell on the floor in front of each cell from the barred windows. In the torchlight Voldemort resembled any other human being with the exception of his flat nose and snakelike eyes. His skin didn't differ from that of any other person's. Yet as he stepped across the first strip of moonlight his flesh Transfigured into a white brighter than snow, whiter than any white imaginable. Lord Voldemort, as his skin attested, showed little concern for the sun.

Wrapping his cloak around his shoulders, the Dark Lord strolled casually forward, ignoring the occupants of the cells on his right. None, he knew, had closed their eyes. Here no prisoner could ever earn any rest, for terror seeped through their neurons constantly. Some, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, were sitting on the floor, their arms attached by chain to the wall; they, he perceived, had accepted their eternal fate as unchangeable. Others, newer occupants farther down the hall, attempted to strain against their chains, mentally trying to break them by magic. Voldemort grinned as he remembered the Unbreakable charm with which he had bewitched those handcuffs. Nothing they did could succeed in removing those chains.

A loud scream from a female resounded in the thick silence like a ghost in the night. Voldemort, adjusted to these for many a year, didn't wince but grinned. His pace quickened as he approached the source of the screaming - the last cell in the row.

A lady around the age of forty, neither young nor old and shockingly attractive in appearance, lied on the floor, her face buried in her hands. Her soft brown hair had been torn out in a dozen places, leaving her half-bald. Cuts scattered across her face seeped blood onto her dirty skin. Her elegant lavender robes, damaged and torn beyond imagination, hung limply off her body. Voldemort, sighing, raised his eyes to see Fenrir towering over her, growling. Blood trickled from the werewolf's mouth as he licked his lips and indicated with gestures that he was ready to consume her.

Voldemort raised a pale hand to impede the monster, lowered himself, and leaned on the side of the bawling woman. He placed his hand on her cheek and dragged it down to her jaw, which he lifted. Now she was peering into his eyes fearfully.

"Welcome to the Tower of Isperfor, Mrs. Lupin," he whispered. "I trust that your accommodations are satisfactory?"

"Of course not, you despicable bastard," she breathed back.

"Surely you have realized by now that that behavior -" Voldemort ascended, pulled back his leg, and kicked it hard into her stomach. Mrs. Lupin vomited onto the floor the contents of her stomach. The puke reflected the torchlight of the hallway outside. Voldemort, pleased, kneeled beside her, placing his arm around her shoulders and leaning so close to her face that their lips almost touched.

"Why should I deal with the hassle of negotiating with you, may I ask?" Voldemort inquired angrily.

"I have a son!" Rachel cried. "How could you deprive him of a mother?"

"Do you expect that to justify pity?" Voldemort retorted. "Do you expect me to believe that your pathetic son Remus will not manage to persevere in the absence of a mother? Do you not realize that he is almost an adult now?"

"You sick...disgusting..." Rachel Lupin's mouth shook furiously. Her eyes narrowed irritably. Then she had thrown herself at Voldemort, whom she shoved onto the floor and began to strangle, wrapping her fingers as tightly as she could around his throat. She had despised Voldemort for years now. Never before, however, had she experienced such a violent sensation as she did now, in which she craved to rip apart every piece of him she could reach. Her nails tore at his neck and from the Dark Lord's neck blood began to flow.

"Fenrir! Do something!" Voldemort choked.

Fenrir screamed words that Rachel recognized, though she had never heard them spoken before. A green light filled her vision as Voldemort smiled contentedly beneath her. Then she knew no more.