The Night Before

Author's Notes: Written for LJ community Omniocular's January challenge (the Beatles song title challenge). Many thanks to my beta Lazy_neutrino.

The Night Before

"No, I don't have the letter any more," said Remus Lupin wearily. "I told you, the thing burst into flames the moment I finished reading it."

"Can you remind us, again, what it said?" McGonagall's voice was tenser than usual.

"I copied it here as well as I could." Remus extracted a piece of parchment from the pocket of his favourite cardigan. "I don't think I missed anything. It was a short letter, after all."

The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix bent over the table to have a better view. The letter was quickly read, but the silence stayed for a long time afterwards, only broken as everyone started to talk at once.

"It says in the morning. Do... does that mean tomorrow?"

"Whether he wants it or not... that really does sound like they're going to do it against his will, doesn't it?"

"If you want to save him now it's the time... Lupin, who was that letter from?"

"There was no signature. Of course."

"Someone who knows a whole lot of Death Eater stuff... Do you think we've got a new agent?"

No one answered. Everyone remembered what their former agent had done. Snape. The Order wasn't ready for a new one yet.

"I don't like it."

"Very suspicious."

"This might be a trap. How can we be sure..."

"We can't," said Remus. He looked around, seeing only nervous faces. What had happened? Where was their courage, the desire to do the right thing? Had they forgotten how it felt to fight for what was good, for Light? Remember James and Lily, he thought. Remember Albus. But it was useless to say those words. Dumbledore's death had shocked the Order deeply. Only now was Remus beginning to understand how deeply. With Dumbledore, they had lost something. They were afraid. They didn't believe in themselves any more. They put all their hope in one boy, their saviour, and hid themselves when it was time to act. Voldemort was closer to victory than he had possibly even realised.

"We can't be sure," Remus repeated. "But whoever wrote this letter was right. If we want to save this boy it must be done now. Tonight. The night before..."

By 11 pm they had a plan of sorts. Bill Weasley wanted to come with him, and Remus wasn't really surprised. They had become friends that summer, after that nasty werewolf incident. Molly was against it, of course (Darling, you have a wedding next week!), but no one could change Bill's mind.

"We'll go together," Remus decided, taking the role of leader because no one else seemed to want it. "The boy knows me, I'm his former teacher. Bill will be my support. Tonks and Kingsley'll wait for us at the meeting point here (he pointed the map), and from there we'll Apparate..."

"But where?" McGonagall interrupted. "We can't possibly bring him here. It's too dangerous if he's loyal to them after all. Or if it is a trap..."

Remus pondered. "You're right, Minerva. We must think of another place. Another refuge. But we have so little time."

"I got it!" Bill's eyes twinkled. "France! Fleur's family can help us to hide him for the time being. You-Know-Who will never find him in France."

"Let's hope so," Minerva muttered. "But will he be ready to leave?"

"We'll see. But that's the best idea we have."

By midnight Bill had sent a couple of owls. There was no time to wait for the reply before morning. They could only hope the French were ready to give shelter to a refugee from Wizarding Britain.

"This can severely affect the relationship between our Ministry and theirs," said Arthur Weasley with a worried look in his eyes. "I think we really should discuss this with the Department of International Magical Cooperation before doing anything drastic."

"There is no time, dad!" Bill shouted, continuing as Remus gave a supportive nod, "Ministry bureaucracy will only slow us down. And in the morning it'll be too late. We'll owl them first thing in the morning, but not before."

"I wish Albus was here," Minerva whispered. "He would know what to do."

Everyone turned their gaze away, horrified that she had dared to say his name.

* * * * *

Theodore Nott woke up from a deep sleep and felt suddenly scared.

He had gone to bed early as he did on most nights. The novel he had been reading rested on the bedside table. He could see the familiar outline of his robes hanging on the wardrobe door. The waning moon shone brightly behind the window. Everything seemed normal. Why this horrible anxiety, then?

Had there been a bad dream? He couldn't remember. The only nightmares he remembered were hazy memories from childhood - nothing that could bother him now.

He was trying to relax and go back to sleep when there was a low thud upstairs that made him jump.

Probably just Rigby, he thought. The old house-elf had been there to serve the Nott family as long as Theodore remembered. But it never entered father's rooms unless it was summoned. And everything upstairs belonged to father. What if it wasn't Rigby?

As silently as he could he stood up and dressed. The moon must have gone behind a cloud, thought Theodore, for its light was dim now. His wand wasn't on the table. His heart missed a beat until he remembered the book had knocked it on the floor in the evening. He groped blindly with his hand. Losing my wand at a time like this! Dad would be so angry... Finally his fingers touched the hawthorn wood.

He tried to listen but no other sounds came from upstairs. Still, he was almost sure that there was someone inside the building.

He had been waiting for them to arrive any day now. Ever since Draco's letters started to arrive. Written in a conversational tone as if they still were best pals at Hogwarts. Of course, they had never been best pals, really. And for Draco, there was no more Hogwarts, either. Not since he had gone into hiding with the Death Eaters.

We need you, Theo, Draco had written. Together, they could make the world right again. Why was Theodore still hesitating? He couldn't think of returning to Hogwarts, could he? Dumbledore was a trusting fool, but hard times lay ahead for the Slytherin house now. Did Theodore want to go back only to be loathed when there were other people who cared for him?

What had shocked Theodore was that Draco was probably right. How he had wished he could talk with father again; in private, without those damned prying Azkaban guards. Dad would know what to do. He had his own ideals, but he had silently approved Theodore's wish to remain neutral. But was there any choice for him but to join the Dark Lord, now?

He couldn't forget how Draco's last letter had ended. My Lord is tired of waiting for your decision. He wants to talk to you in person.

Theodore wasn't sure if Draco was writing these letters of his own free will or by the Dark Lord's orders. If there was even a difference when one had the Mark.

Were they coming for him now? And if they were, what would he do? He clenched his fist around the wooden wand, although he knew there was no point in using it. If the Dark Lord wanted to meet him there was nothing he could do. The realisation hit him: I'm going to be Marked.

Could he hear steps in the corridor already? Slowly he moved nearer the door, wand ready. He wasn't going to show his fear, or it would be worse afterwards. He wasn't going to be taken unaware. He slammed the bedroom door open.

"Ouch!" The door hit the man who had been standing behind it.

"Accio wand!" shouted two voices at the same time. The intruder was quicker than Theodore.

There was no light at the corridor. He only saw the shapes of two wizards, dressed in a cloak of some kind.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" he asked although he knew the answer.

One of them lit his wandtip to provide some light. The hoods of their robes were pulled to hide their faces. "We are friends. We are here to warn you."

"Give my wand back to me."

"We will, after we have talked. Can we come into your room? It's a bit cramped out here."

He opened the door a little wider after a moment's hesitation. The fact that the intruders had pocketed his wand annoyed him greatly - didn't they trust him one bit? But it wasn't wise to start arguing with them now.

One of them lit the lamps in the room with a gentle swing of a wand. Only when Theodore realised they weren't wearing Death Eaters' robes and masks did he start to panic. He tasted fear in his mouth. Like on the night he had heard about his father's arrest. Or when he had visited Azkaban for the first time. He didn't understand what was going on any more.

"Don't be scared, Mr Nott," said one of them, lowering his hood to show his face.

He realised that he knew the man. "Professor... Professor Lupin?" He had no idea what his former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was doing in his house, unless... defending him against the Dark Arts?

"I'm hardly your professor any more. Please, call me Lupin."

"I don't understand," muttered Theodore. Lupin's silent companion stood in the corner, aiming at him with a wand. Theodore couldn't guess his identity because the hood shadowed his face... and because of something else, probably a concealment charm. He turned to him. "Are you an Auror?"

"We're not Aurors," Lupin answered. "We're here to warn you, as I said before. And to help you, if that's what you want." A silence. "We're from the Order of the Phoenix."

Theodore just stared at them.

"Do you know what the Order of the Phoenix is?"

He nodded. Father had explained it to him. "I don't understand why you are here. I'm not going to join you." The same words he had been prepared to say to the Death Eaters.

"You don't have to join us," said Lupin. "Actually, we prefer our members to finish their education first. I know many young people of your age who are not pleased with this rule, but as it is the wish of the Order's founder, we chose to respect it even after his death."

"I remember you..." Theodore said slowly. "At Hogwarts. In June. You were there... fighting against the Death Eaters."

"Yes, I was. On the day Albus Dumbledore died. And that pretty much blew my cover, didn't it? No need to hide my identity from you. The Dark Lord knows I'm an Order member by now."

"I'm not reporting to him," snapped Theodore. "I'm not one of them. You think every Slytherin is a Dark Lord supporter, just like he said..."

"Who said so? Your father? Or perhaps your friend Draco Malfoy? Are they using that old argument to make you join them?"

"Not my father. My father thinks I can decide... myself."

"And he's right," Lupin said in a low voice. "I know it's going to be hard to be a Slytherin these days. Or a son of a Death Eater. But I don't believe every Slytherin is a Dark Lord supporter. Or should be."

"Why are you here?" Theodore asked again. Lupin was a werewolf, but somehow the knowledge that there was one in his room didn't scare him. He had always liked the old Defence professor. Lupin was always so calm, quite unlike Fenrir Greyback. He was probably taking Wolfsbane.

"Let's sit down, shall we?"

Theodore obeyed. The two Order members sat down on his bed, ignoring its messy state.

"The Order has learned that you will be made a Death Eater very soon."

"In the morning, to be exact," added the wizard with a concealment charm.

The fear that had subsided filled his heart again. This is it! "How do you know this?" his more rational side asked.

"We can't tell you that. Let's just say that there seems to be someone concerned about your well-being. Now, Theodore Nott, the big question is: do you want to become a Death Eater - or not?"

Theodore bit his lip. He realised his whole body was shaking as if he was facing a poisonous snake. He tried to speak, but it was oddly difficult to form words.

"You... you say Death Eater like it's something repulsive." He sighed deeply and continued. "When I first heard about them I thought they were noble men. They were even called knights before, my father once told me. The Knights of Walpurgis. I always imagined them grand and noble, fighting against evil. In my thoughts the Dark Lord looked like Salazar Slytherin. They both can talk to snakes, you know. I was so proud that dad had known him. Yet I knew it wasn't wise to discuss these things with anyone. Well, perhaps except for some family friends.

"I was so angry when I learned the Dark Lord had disappeared before my time. I was a little boy; of course I would have wanted to be a knight or something like my father! My father never believed the Dark Lord dead, by the way. He always said he was such a great wizard he just couldn't be killed like normal people. I wonder if it's true. He came back, didn't he?

"And that's when my opinion started to change. It started when that boy died in the Triwizard Cup. I remember Headmaster's speech as clearly as it had been yesterday. When he told the school who had killed that boy I believed him instantly. Many others didn't, but I knew he was right because of what my father had told me. It was a great shock. He was back, but... it shouldn't have happened like this.

"I started to read everything I found about the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. There are lots of books in the Hogwarts library about them. It was the other side of the coin. I learned things dad had never told me. Of course I had heard some of them before. Killings. People disappearing. Before that I had just shut my eyes to the truth. Now I tried to question dad on holidays, but he always evaded the issue. He never openly talked with me about the Dark Lord again.

"The most horrible thing was that father changed. He became solemn and silent. And there was this odd gleam in his eyes. He came and went at odd hours, and never told me what he was doing although I knew he was with the Dark Lord. He became very suspicious, too. It was bad. I think he didn't trust even me completely in the end. Still, he wanted to protect me. He started to speak like this: If anything happens to me... You'll be safe, whatever happens. After mum's death I was his only family. Or perhaps the Dark Lord was his family, too. I don't know.

"I still can't think of all the things the Dark Lord's supporters are said to have done. I never went to my father's trial. He asked me not to. I tried to concentrate on my studies at Hogwarts, but it was impossible to avoid the news and rumours. The day when the school was attacked... I swore that I would never join them. All that violence... the Headmaster dead... It just isn't right! But that was before letters started to come."

"What letters?" asked Lupin sharply.

"Letters indicating that I should join them." Theodore found himself unwilling to tell more.

"Or else?"

"Or else. You said yourself they're going to come and take me tomorrow."

"There's a way out of this, Theodore."

Slowly, he shook his head. "It's no use. He's powerful, I can't possibly hide from him. He already sees me as one of his own. I would take a terrible risk..."

"Then take the risk! Do you want a life like that? Do you know what atrocities they commit? You will be forced to do the same, sooner or later. He's gone too far. But he's not invincible! We can help you, Theodore. We can help you to escape."

Theodore just stared. "I bet you were sorted into Gryffindor, professor."

The man with the concealment charm suppressed a laugh.

"I wanted to stay neutral," Theodore continued. He spoke quickly now, feeling that if he started to think of what he was saying he couldn't say it at all. "I wanted to stay out of the war. But it's not possible any more. I know it's you or them now. If I leave with you I will mark myself his enemy, that's for certain. I'm scared. I'm scared that he'll find me. And still I know what I want to do. I want to live a good life. But I'm scared that it's not an option..."

"It is possible, Theodore."

His Hogwarts trunk was in the far corner, half-empty. He hadn't thought there would be need for it so soon. He flicked through the topmost book: it was Spellman's Syllabary. Would there be any Ancient Runes lessons for him any more? He should choose the clothes to take with him. If he was going to leave. Where could he go, anyway? But it could be all right. It was dangerous, so horribly dangerous he didn't dare to think about it. He opened the wardrobe. "Where should I go?" he asked quietly. "What clothes do I need? And books, my schoolbooks. Should I take them, too?"

"You'll be away a couple of months, maybe. Perhaps a year. To finish your school, although not at Hogwarts, I'm afraid. Hogwarts isn't safe enough just now. You speak French, I presume?

"Yes. Not well, but... Mother taught me. Her family was originally from France, you know."

"I think I know. She was a Lestrange, wasn't she?"

Theodore shrugged.

"We need to hurry. They will be here at dawn. Take everything you need, as if you were going back to Hogwarts."

Theodore stood at the wardrobe door. He could see himself staring back from the mirror; the mirror image was waving his hands and urging him on. "This would be easier if I got my wand back."

They hesitated a moment until Lupin - who was clearly the boss there - nodded to the disguised wizard. Theodore snatched the wand before they had time to change their mind.

"Thank you." The packing was soon finished. He was going to do it. The thought made his hands tremble. They should leave now! Before it was too late. "Can I call Rigby? I need to give him some orders, there's a broken pipe under the bathroom, he should fix it..."

"No!" shouted both wizards at the same time. "Too risky. Better Rigby doesn't see us here with you. And you had better not tell anyone that you've gone into hiding. Voldemort may have spies even in France."

"What about my father, then? I must send him a message. He will be worried sick!"

"Theodore, you can't do that just now. The owl post doesn't necessarily reach Azkaban these days, and it would be dangerous for you to reveal too much in a letter anyway."

"I just want to tell him I'm safe!"

"Then let me do that for you. I can visit your father and tell him you're all right."

"I will write a short letter. Vague stuff, nothing specific. Just telling him he doesn't have to worry. You can deliver it, and read it if you like. But I want to write that letter myself. Dad's not so young any more. What if I don't see him again?" He sat down, hiding his face in his hands.

"Sorry," Theodore said after a moment. "This is just so difficult for me. I never imagined myself leaving like this. Never."

Lupin nodded. "It's all right. You can write a message for your father at our next destination. Can you Apparate? Good. Next, we will meet some friends at the meeting-point. If all has gone well they already have a special carriage to France waiting for you."

* * * * *

The old grandfather clock struck four. Severus Snape raised his head from an ancient Assyrian manuscript his Lord had given him to study. He didn't feel like sleeping tonight. He waited another fifteen minutes before rolling up the scroll. He was getting accustomed to his surroundings by now; he no longer hesitated on his way to the west wing where his Lord resided.

As usual, Nagini was watching the door, hissing at him.

"Shoo, wake up your master! We have a situation here."

In less than a minute Nagini let him through. Voldemort sat in his favourite armchair, fully dressed, a glass of brandy in hand. Sometimes Snape wondered if he slept at all.

"What is it, my friend?"

Snape quickly lowered his gaze. "My Lord, I'm afraid we're too late. The Nott boy is gone." From the corner of his eye he saw Voldemort's figure stiffen. It was best to deliver the facts without too much explanation. "I was getting ready to take him when I noticed some activity in one of the sensors we'd left there. The one that activates when someone Apparates nearby. There were people there already. Two of them. And just as I was getting ready to go the sensor reacted again. Gone! Three people. They took Theodore Nott with them. I'm positive it's that accursed Order again!"

The glass in Voldemort's hand shattered into tiny pieces. His voice was very cold when he spoke. "How is this possible?"

"They must have intercepted the owl post. I always thought it was quite a juvenile idea for Draco Malfoy to use owls to persuade his friend."

"Hmm, perhaps so. So he didn't want to join me after all? Pity." Voldemort disposed the broken glass with a flick of his wand and sat down again. "Well, I will find him. Too bad for him he didn't choose my offer when he had a chance."

"My Lord, I'd like to volunteer to search for young Mr Nott. From all your available servants, I think I know him best. And I think Draco Malfoy is too unreliable for a job that asks this much patience."

"Approved. Go there immediately, Severus. Search the place, question the house-elf. I want to know where they went. I suppose it's not possible for you to get information from the Order itself any more?"

"Not possible, I'm afraid." He grimaced. "Killing the old man didn't exactly increase their trust in me. But it had to be done."

"Yes," Voldemort breathed. "It had to be done. Go now, and while you're there send Draco to me. As quickly as he can make it."

"Of course, my Lord. I only beg you to be fair with young Mr Malfoy. He's trying so hard. And with him on your side you'll never have to fear any disobedience from Lucius."

He left the room without waiting for the Dark Lord's answer. There was work to be done. Draco wouldn't be pleased when he woke up, but sometimes casualties couldn't be avoided. At least Draco would live to tell the tale.

One boy lost, another one saved. Was this what Albus wanted me to do? But he still couldn't think of Dumbledore without feeling oddly empty inside.

* * * * *

Epilogue

It had been a long night for Remus Lupin. There was a foreign policy crisis brewing, and Nott had almost started a fight with Shacklebolt because of some ill-chosen words about his father's arrest. Nevertheless, the boy was safely on his way to France now, and that was all that mattered.

Remus opened a locked case on his table with a special charm and took a letter out. He already knew the text by heart, but he wanted to see the handwriting again.

Theodore Nott will become a Death Eater in the morning - whether he wants it or not.

If you want to save him now it's the time.

He had recognised the handwriting at once. He had seen it every month, when he read the instructions for the Wolfsbane Potion, written in that same handwriting. (You must learn to brew this yourself, Lupin! You can't depend on other people for all your life!)

He couldn't have shown the letter to the Order members. Minerva, at least, would have realised who the letter was from. The Order would have seen only treachery and danger there. There would have been no action.

Remus didn't cherish any hopes that Snape would leave the Dark Lord's service. He had shown his true colours to the Order all too clearly only a month ago. Snape was, and always would be, a Death Eater. But he was also the former head of Slytherin. Perhaps he had wanted to give one of his students a different kind of future. Perhaps.

He had decided to trust Snape. At least this once.