Shadow over the Urals

Author's notes: I would like to thank my beta baghee from Perfect Imagination, for making the most out of this story, and of my writing. Your comments were gold, and thank you for making me laugh, a lot (Siberia comes to mind, and then there was all the vodka...)! I would also like to thank all my faithful readers and reviewers, for sticking with me to the bittersweet end, and I especially thank Bjarka99 and Inverarity, for all your support, throughout. Sorry for being a bit slow with posting. I hope the ending was worth the wait :-) .

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Chapter Eight - All Means to an End

The door opened a fraction, and a pair of hazel eyes peered out over an enormous beard; at the sight of her, Linev opened his door wide. He was already wearing his teachers' robes, and must have been about to leave for breakfast.

"Secessa, my dear," he said huskily, "this is an unexpected visit. What is the matter?"

"May I come in, Sergei Ivanov?"

"But of course."

Secessa was admitted into Linev's small quarters, which were surprisingly cosy. The wall to her left was lined with bookshelves carrying on all the way to the ceiling, and the titles were mostly Potions-related. In the middle of the room stood two, gold-rimmed, high-backed red velvet sofas facing each other over a small, rectangular table. On the other side of them, underneath the single window, stood a large desk, and opposite the bookshelves a fire crackled in the small fireplace next to the bedroom door. To the right of the fireplace hung a photo of a pale but smiling, frail-looking witch, who nodded and smiled to the room, and underneath it a candle burned on a pedestal. On top of the mantelpiece sat a fat, black rat, grooming its sleek fur.

"Please, sit," Linev said, and she sat down on the nearest sofa; he immediately seated himself opposite. There was a small silence as Secessa again eyed the photo of his wife, not entirely sure how to feel, hesitating, even though her anger had risen afresh at the sight of him. She knew she had to confront him before the Controllers did, because she knew that the respected, soon-to-retire teacher would never receive a fair trial. For all the people that had died because of his actions, there was not a shred of evidence against him. Because of Linev, and what he had brought into the school, she had withstood unbearable humiliation, and had been forced to participate in murder. He was a cunning, cold-hearted murderer, she told herself. And yet, he had a wife, perhaps even children...

"Is this, perhaps, to do with Elena?" said Linev. "I noticed yesterday that she seemed perhaps a little bit -"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. It's just that, well, I heard how considerate you've been towards her, all through the ordeal," she said as lightly as she could. "As her friend, I would like to show you my gratitude."

"It's nothing, my dear, I assure you -"

"No, I insist," she said, and pulled out the bottle Mizil had fetched for her. It had no label, and contained a greenish, cloudy fluid. "It's elf-made nettle infusion, from Murmansk. It's a concentrate, so it should last you for ages. Try it out."

He started as he saw the bottle, and she smiled serenely while conjuring up a teapot half-filled with steaming water and two cups. His eyes followed her hand as she magicked the bottle into adding a few drops to the teapot, and made the pot pour him a cup. "Please," she said, and offered it to him. He took it numbly, but his hands were shaking, and he had to put the cup down.

"Are you unwell, Professor Linev?" she said.

"Y-yes, suddenly, thank you, my dear, for the tea, but really, I must ask you to -"

She pointed her wand at the cup, and it floated up into the air. "Have some tea, Sergei Ivanov. It will make you feel better."

As she held her wand aimed at the floating cup, ready to Vanish the poison, their eyes locked. Suddenly his narrowed, and he reached for his wand, but he was too late. Hers was already at his throat, and she calmly put the cup down, her heart beating fast.

"Your wand, please, Professor Linev."

"My dear, I-I have no idea what this is about!" he said, but he handed it over, and she put it on the table. There was a brief silence, and she sighed. She had had to make sure.

"Headmaster Gregorovitch was such a nice man, Professor," she said quietly. "Why did you kill him?"

"I-I have no idea what you are talking about. Please, lower your wand!"

His watery eyes were insistent, urging her to stop, but she waited in silence.

"M-my dear, please!"

"The Rune won't work on your wife, you know."

He glanced at the portrait of his wife, his eyes even bigger than usual. "No," he whispered. "It will work, I know it, I-I -" Then, he looked at her fearfully, desperately.

"I will explain it to you," she said. "If you tell me why you killed Gregorovitch."

"I-I couldn't -" He put his head in his hands. "I can't tell you! What good would it do? Can't you just ... let it be? It's done!"

There was a long silence as they looked at each other, teacher and former student. Secessa's wand-arm was feeling heavy, but she did not remove her wand from his throat. Once, he had been a respected man, she thought sadly.

Eventually, he laughed shakily. "He did not know where the Rune was. Ironic, isn't it? All that planning I had to do, all that research into hidden, half-faded records. He wrote himself, in the Headmaster's Diary, that he had hidden the Rune for good. Of course I thought he knew where! I put him under the Imperius, forced him to go down to the library, and there, he just wandered about aimlessly, unable to heed my request. The librarian gave him some really odd looks, and, well, I became nervous."

"You thought he might investigate?"

"I ... traded the Headmaster's life and position for a promise of murder." Linev looked away and bit his lip. "He was kind to me, and that was what I did to him as thanks. There was no return, though, none. They promised me they would get rid of the librarian. An empty promise, it turned out."

"And then you continued?"

"What should I have done!" he suddenly bust out hoarsely. "My wife is dying, you know she is!"

"And there is nothing you can do to stop it. Vladimir told me. But why would you want to use the Rune like you think you can? Even if you managed to enslave your wife's soul, you would only tie her to this world in agony."

His face contracted, as if he was in pain, and there was a wild look to his face as he glanced at the painting, and then back again. "It would work though, would it not?"

Secessa was unable to say a word.

"Would it not?"

She shook her head from side to side. "It's not right," she whispered. "Why would you wish to do this?"

"Because I love her. Have you ever loved, Secessa?" He asked, his voice sounding slightly strangled. A muscle in his cheek was twitching.

"I'm not sure I'd like to. Not like that," she replied quietly.

There was a mad gleam in his eyes, and he suddenly lurched for the table, at the same time as Secessa realised that she had inadvertently lowered her wand. She shot a stunning spell after him, but he dodged it with surprising agility, snatching up his wand simultaneously. She turned towards him, but was a fraction too late. He said "Imperio," and she was floating dreamily through space in comfortable nothingness. Go to Vladimir Cherniak, said Linev's echoing voice in her head, and retrieve the Rune from him. She was about to obey when, suddenly, heat boiled within her; she felt it emanate from her chest and realised the mark of her first 'owner' was protesting wildly. Her disgust at being claimed not by one, but by two scheming wizards, broke her mind's lethargy. Rage surged through her, most of it flowing from her scar, and using its energy she pushed Linev out of her mind with an immense wrench of thoughts and mind.

There was a brief pause as they both stared at each other; Linev's eyes were wide, and so were hers. Then he flicked his wand; she instantly produced a Shield Charm that deflected the curse flying at her, and it hit his desk with a resounding bang. Hundreds of scrolls and parchments burst away from the desk and filled the air at the same time as splinters flew across the room. Linev instinctively flicked his wand over his head to produce a shield around himself, and the splinters hit it and fell to the floor with a soft clatter. The rat squeaked wildly at the commotion as the large, white mass of what used to be writing material swirled through the room like snow, obscuring Secessa'a vision. After a split second of indecision, she dived behind the sofa.

Linev swore, and Secessa could hear a general rustle as he sent flying parchments and paper debris out of his way. Then she heard the door lock with smooth click, and she could feel her heart race with rising panic. The handle rattled as Linev cast enchantments upon it.

"You cannot get out," he said, his footsteps approaching across the stone floor. His feet kicked away several scrolls that rolled into view. "Unless you - you blast the wall apart, and then you will - you will not have time to save yourself anyhow." His footsteps paused. "You come here," he continued, a bit shrilly now, "and you - you dare judge me like this!" He gave a half-strangled sob. "You c-cold, unfeeling w-wench."

The rat let out another, worried squeak, and hearing it, Secessa had a final, desperate idea and scrambled closer to the fireplace behind the large back of the sofa. Linev walked up to the sofa, its high back obstructing him from view still. He gave off another shaky little laugh. "And n-now, I have to k-kill you, too, don't you see?"

Secessa flicked her wand at the rat as soon as she had a clear view of it, binding it to her will, and she made it jump down from the fireplace. It scuttled across the floor to its former master.

"It is all right my sweet," said Linev, his husky voice slightly calmer now, "only a n-nasty woman. I will get rid of her."

Then, suddenly, she released the rat. It jumped up onto the old wizard and she could sense it biting deeply into his thigh, clawing his robe to shreds. He screamed shrilly, and as soon as she heard the blast of his wand, she aimed a Disarming Charm at him from behind the sofa. His wand shot out of his hand and landed on the floor by the fireplace. At the same time the rat landed limply by the desk across the room. He stood still for a moment, watching her stand up, her wand aimed at his chest. Then he suddenly bolted for his wand. She immediately retrieved it with a flick of her own, making him fall onto the empty floor.

His face red with exertion, he slowly got up, and brushed some ash off his robes. They stared at each other, their breathing rapid. Linev glanced from Secessa to his wife's picture, and then his demeanour suddenly deflated, his face becoming old and puffy. "Please," he said entreatingly, his lower lip trembling, "you do not understand -"

"No," she replied shakily. "You're mistaken, but you did not bother with research because you were too selfish. Desperation, I suppose. The clue to the Rune's powers has been staring you in the face all along. The house elves. They were enslaved by the Master Rune, and they can still die. The flesh and the blood are enslaved, no more."

He shook his head in disbelief, his face turning white. "No," he whispered, "it is not true."

"You believed in a legend, and few legends can be trusted. Sometimes, one hears what one wants."

There was a long silence, and then Linev sat down on his plush sofa, burying his face in his hands.

"I will owl the Controllers," she said. She was feeling sick. "I can summon my owl -"

Suddenly, Linev made a lurch for the table, and drained his cup in one go before she even had time to aim her wand at him. Secessa watched, horrified, as his frame grew rigid and the teacup fell out of his hand and shattered onto the table. Then he fell limply to the floor, like an oversized rag doll. She did not need to check his body. Death would have been instant.

Numbed, body and soul, she sat down on the sofa, staring at the corpse on the floor. The rat suddenly stirred, got up, and limped over to the corpse, where it sat down quietly, waiting for her next command. Nausea and disgust overtook her for a moment, and she put her head into her hands, unable to look at the wrecked room, the emerging green blotches on Linev's body, the rat that had been forced to deny its own heart...

Then she summoned her owl. Controller Orlov would have to accept her breaking their rules of contact, she thought. There was nothing else she could do.

*

A few hours later, Professor Kohler found Professor Linev dead in his quarters, and was rather distraught by the third member of his staff falling victim to what was now being referred to as the Shadow Curse by the students. Apparently, one particularly imaginative student had come up with the idea that Wilhelm Durmstrang had left his shadow behind to guard the castle, and that it struck down teachers responsible of mismanagement. Ridiculous rumours aside, Secessa had much to worry about, so she let the students whisper during her classes and sat as on needles until her last class ended.

The Controllers, however, did not start an inquiry this time, on the basis of finding two wands in Linev's quarters, plus a very incriminating suicide letter and a few other bits and pieces that Secessa had never noticed (especially not the elaborate diary they had claimed they had found on the mantelpiece). She guessed they had been bribed well. The case was closed on the spot, and the Controllers stayed for coffee, Karkaroff's finest plum brandy (which Kohler had procured, the sly old dog) and mumbles before dinner. No one mentioned the absence of Headmaster Karkaroff and caretaker Dolohov, but as most concerned parties knew where they were and the others did not care as long as they were gone, it was perhaps understandable.

Epilogue

December arrived, and with it, the terrible cold that can only be experienced on high altitudes in inland Russia. Firewood, however, was for some reason not so scarce anymore, and the new Charms Professor's heating charms successfully kept the castle within bearable temperatures despite the annoying draught. But still, it was with great trepidation that the Hags took on the Direwolves on the snow-covered Quidditch pitch a few weeks before the Christmas holidays.

The Quidditch stands had been enclosed in transparent bubbles for the event, which kept out the cold wind and retained some heat, but the players were as badly off as usual. Nurse Alruna stood ready on the teacher's stands with Anti-Freeze Potions, and there was some general hope that the Snitch would be caught quickly.

Vladimir and Secessa, who were both far too comfortable indoors to torment themselves in sub-arctic temperatures in pursuit of sports, but still wished to see the game due to the general hubbub, had found a nice, large window in the deserted Arithmancy classroom, and they watched together as the balls were released and immediately chased by frosted-over players.

"Not the pleasantest of sports to play in the winter cold," said Vladimir.

"I never thought it was," said Secessa. "Inane game, especially when it comes to the rules. I doubt any of the players will be able to see anything in about ten minutes from now, but they will still have to finish. Did you know that last year, it took them three days to thaw the Hag goalkeeper? It never put her off, though, so I assume she's insane. You never played?"

"Certainly not. I was stretching general allowance just having a private tutor around to teach me a few basics. But I never particularly liked to ride on broomsticks anyway. Too bloody cold."

"Speaking of transport, have you ever considered mastering Apparating? Could be useful."

"What, you think the situation in England will suddenly spread across half a continent and require our immediate escape to Tibet just in case Dolohov remembers something and manages to escape Azkaban?"

"You never know."

Vladimir turned towards her, and lightly put his fingers underneath her chin. "Secessa," he said, "you are far too tense. You need to settle down a bit. It's over."

She frowned. "But is it, Vladimir? Everytime I see Khuditski in the hospital wing, I wonder what has happened to me during this time. Nurse Alruna said his veins seemed burned from within." She shuddered with the memory of finding the old man collapsed in his quarters. She had finally mastered the Retaining Charm, with the surprising result of his immediate collapse. It appeared that their bond had improved his stamina, making him oblivious to the slow degeneration of his body by the foreign magic.

"I am sure you will be fine. The magic is in your blood, not his. I would assume you have a natural defence against it. Besides, you didn't cast a single spell yourself."

"You would assume...Yes, it is all we can do, I suppose." She sighed, and closed her eyes. He was right, of course. She needed to wind down.

She noticed a dark patch on his cheek; a discoloration where the skin had once been smooth, and unable to stop herself, she hesitantly brought her hand up and traced it with her index finger. He flinched, and moved away slightly. Embarrassed, she turned towards the window, and there was a long pause.

"Secessa, look at me," he said eventually, his voice tight.

As she looked into his clear, blue eyes, she noticed that they carried a hint of cold in them (how could she have forgotten?), mixed with concern. It was unbearable, she thought, that he should look at her that way.

"I will only tell you this once, Secessa, because it pains me to have to do so. I do not feel that an intimate relationship between us would be a very good idea. If you think about it, you'll realise that as well."

Biting her lip, she turned away again, and tried to watch the game. The sinking feeling in her stomach made her feel ill.

"I will go to the Ministry, now," she said.

He nodded. "Stay safe," he said, "and don't forget to be back for tea."

She hesitated, and then took hold of her composure. "Of course," she replied, more lightly than she felt. "See you later, Vladimir."

***

The Annual Christmas Display at the Ministry School for Beast Control was a jubilant event. Shooting stars and rainbow-coloured ribbons flew through the air as this year's top students were presented and showed to their honorary seats that immediately rose and hovered high up above the Quidditch stadium hired for the event, and Honeymead and vodka of all flavours flowed merrily. Secessa leaned back in her seat, a glass of Honeymead in her hand, trying to enjoy the show, including the free ticket, the Honeymead token, and the Ministry sanctioned return Portkey that came with it. A somersaulting Granian was to be displayed, and so was a Hinkypunk lights display and a dancing troll, and all in all it seemed to be quite a good spectacle. She had already spotted some people she knew, and had watched them from afar with mixed feelings.

A few minutes after the Granian had taken off, a finger tapped her shoulder.

"Excuse me, madam," said Controller Orlov, "Is this seat taken?" He was wearing robes of gleaming dark green in celebration of the occasion, and his round face beamed.

"No. Please, go right ahead."

He sat down.

"So," he said, leaning towards her while pretending to adjust his seat, "I must congratulate you on a job well done. The letters you sent to me have been crucial to secure Durmstang's future position as an autonomous school. In fact, our international relations have improved as well, as an indirect result. We are pleased."

"I had nothing to do with the final outcome, of course," she said as she put her drink down.

"But of course." He patted her shoulder sombrely, and she found herself unable to meet his eyes.

There was a pause, and Orlov cleared his throat. "Naturally, now that everything seems settled, it will soon be found out that the government lacks the funds to pay out your pension."

"That is unfortunate."

"And of course, we at the Ministry will count on you keeping in touch regularly in the upcoming years. Although I must press upon you, that if ever a difficult situation should arise again, use a quill, not a wand, eh? I've never known a female to cause so much trouble in one day."

"Of course," she said, and dared a look at his face. She saw nothing there but fatherly concern.

He drew out a pocket-watch from an inside robes pocket. "Dear me," he said casually, "look at the time. I really must dash." He put a his large hand onto hers. "I wish you the best of luck with your students."

"Thank you. I'll be fine." She bit her lip, and then looked up. "Actually, it's not so bad. I'm enjoying teaching more than I thought I would."

At her words, his face became serious. "I'm happy for you, Assistant Professor Laburova."

He stood up and gave her one of his rare smiles; then he stretched out his hand, which she took. At the same time, the Granian somersaulted spectacularly over their heads, followed by 'Aaah's and 'Oooh's from the audience. Between the turns, Secessa got a glimpse of a pale, ecstatic face underneath a thick lump of straw-coloured hair.

"That's not ..."

The Controller Orlov looked up. "Oh, you mean Tamer Apprentice Vorobin? Yes, he turned out well in the end. Not that I ever doubted him." He gave her a small wink and a brief smile, left the row of seats, and then vanished into the happily chattering crowd of refreshment-seekers.

Secessa, left to her own devices, thoughtfully fingering the fading scar on her chest through her robes, thought that the world was a very strange place, indeed. And she had a funny feeling that she had been given something, although she could not quite put the finger on what, or from whom.

Beneath her, in the arena, a smiling troll began to dance.

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Author's notes: Thank you for reading my fic! Please leave a review! You know it's your last chance, right ;-) ?