Dream & Shadow

32* Wolfsbane

The Shrieking Shack towered darkly in the surroundings of Hogsmeade. The beginning of the woods and the boundary to the grounds of Hogwarts appeared to be close. That part of the village seemed forlorn, isolated, and noiseless. There had been no howls in January and February; there would be nothing in March either. Leonor walked deliberately slow; the mud under her feet was soft and slippery. The power of the winter waned quickly, but the sun unfolded not enough warmth to dry trails and countryside. Wisps of clouds covered the pale light of the full moon now and then. Leonor entered the shack through a loose plank of a window in the ground floor. The broken window panes showed the desolate state of the place, even though most of the barricades to keep the villagers away were intact. The ground floor was littered with waste. Weathered wood, paper and rags filled the edges. A fruit crate covered the tunnel from the Whomping Willow partially.

Leonor climbed the stairs with a vacuum flask full of Wolfsbane. The last day of the March's moon cycle ended soon. It was late; she had been kept in the hospital wing with a nasty fracture of a leg. Remus lived in the shack more often recently. His body was still used to Wolfsbane even after a couple of months. It saved the painful transformation, and he didn't suffer from a bad condition or from the tiredness that came as an after-effect of the potion. Leonor hoped for those symptoms and it had been confirmed. She entered the large room on the upper floor and called out, but Remus didn't respond.

The ragged four-posted bed was strangely rumpled. The fireplace was cold; the ash emitted almost no heat like the fire dyed hours before. A few belongings, a half-eaten meal and an empty jug of an unknown beverage stood on the mantelpiece.

"Remus?"

Leonor called without receiving an answer. She glanced nervously around. The thermos flask of the previous day lay abandoned on the floor. She put it into her shoulder bag and waited, leaving through some crinkled magazines with cars and motorcycles. She wondered if Hugo delivered the short message of her later arrival. Remus was supposed to sleep by now, but without the last helping of the potion the transformation could take place, at least incompletely. A small ray of moonlight shone through the gaps in between the planks and showed the thick layer of dust everywhere. Leonor returned outside just to call again after the former colleague. A loud barking announced a living soul in the distance and hopefully Remus was on his way back, safely guided by his furry black school friend. She leaned against the boarded-up entrance of the shack, the wand raised in self-defence.

A spring-like breeze drifted around the house and blew old leaves into the edges. The spring would soon bring new greenery and it was about time for warmer weather. Leonor's thoughts drifted slowly to Remus. It wasn't save out here, not tonight. But her feet wanted to wait, delivering the last potion. Blame for being late crumbled the good mood. The concentration lacked with the silence and the steady balmy wind. Severus agreed in January defiantly that Leonor delivered the Wolfsbane alone. She'd asked him to be reasonable and finally, he stopped arguing; he stopped kissing her fiercely and holding her body tight as if something would take Leonor away soon. When she returned, he waited outside listening into the darkness. Likely he even followed her. Leonor's disapproval created a relieved sheepish grin on the stern face and the remainder of the evening continued very relaxedly. Severus guards were down, and the hard features softened into a still young man in his thirties. It was better than any birthday party. The cosy warmth of the fireplace and the excellent sweet wine made Leonor drowsy. She dozed off in Severus' arms, but he was gone in the morning. The white rose stood on the table with a brief 'Good Morning!'. The flower worked its magic at the full moon showing itself in full bloom.

A few remaining scattered clouds vanished and gave room to the clear sky. The first stars were visible, and the bright moonlight illuminated the clearing around the shack without mercy. A sweet memory returned to the difficult present situation; there was no evidence that werewolves transformed only at midnight. Precious time elapsed. The hope about Remus' return dropped. Distant low snaps of dry branches and angry hooting of a wood owl echoed through the night. After a while the owl became silent, only the continuous cracks of wood were audible. Leonor crossed the clearing to walk back along the path; the same way used by the students to spot the evil spirit in the Shrieking Shack. It was always silent at daylight and during Hogsmeade weekends. The irony that she knew the reason of the occasional roars couldn't save Leonor to jump abruptly a few meters further down the rough trail. Two dark figures pushed themselves out of the shadows. The moonlit night was bright enough to recognize a hunched Remus supported by a tall man. Black! The realization shot through Leonor immediately.