Trelawney’s Tower

Hogwarts:

Sybill Trelawney was not known for her practicality, in fact she was known for just the opposite. She was a dreamer, living half in a world of her own creation and the other half in the real world. She preferred it that way. But when she came out of her other world, she could be sharp as a tack, and she kept herself informed not only with her Divination skills but also a clever system of messages that Dumbledore sent her via Fawkes.

But in the past three days, ever since the dreadful news that four Hogwarts students had been kidnapped, she had had no word from Dumbledore about what he was doing about that state of affairs. She knew he was not one to sit idly by where Death Eaters were involved with his students. This concerned her, for the Headmaster was one of her few friends at Hogwarts, and the only one who truly believed in her gift of Sight. “Oh dear, I do hope nothing has happened to him, Cleopatra,” she said to her cat, a pretty silver and black spotted Egyptian Mau. Her cat purred softly and kneaded her paws into the plump pink cushion of her bed. “But I’m being silly, he’s one of the most powerful wizards in the world, what could happen to him?”

Still, there were butterflies in her stomach and she felt terribly uneasy. And usually when she felt like that, she needed to cast an augery. She quickly picked up a canister of Mystic Shadow tea and placed a tiny amount of water in her favorite china tea cup and then tossed in a pinch of tea. She swirled it about, stopped, and let it sit for a minute before peering at it.

What she saw made her blood run cold. There was a black skull and crossbones at the bottom of the cup, which any diviner knew meant a forewarning of disaster or death. She put her hands to her face and whimpered. No, oh no! Please let it be wrong. He can’t die! Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

Just then Fawkes flew in the window, carrying a note attached to his ankle. The phoenix landed atop the table, trilling worriedly.

“Oh, Fawkes! Is it true?”

The bird held out his leg and Sybill undid the note with trembling fingers.

Sybill,

My dear girl, know that I must go away for awhile and may not be back for a long time. I ask that you tell no one I have gone anywhere, should they ask. If I do not return, remember that you always held a special place in my heart and never doubt your Gift. And perhaps you may write about me someday in your memoirs. One more thing, there is danger in the castle, so please stay safe in your tower. My wards will protect you.

Fondest regards,

Albus

Fawkes, sensing her distress, began to sing softly. Sybill reached out to scratch the phoenix on the head, saying sadly, “He must come back, Fawkes. It is true there is danger in his future, but my prophecy concerning our two hawks must come true.” She sniffled and wiped the back of her hand across her eyes. Believe in yourself, he said. I do, I guess. Because he does, and he is the wisest person I know. Still, perhaps he is right and I do need to start chronicalling this.

She summoned her leatherbound journal, quill, and ink, sat down at her desk, her cat on her lap, and began to write. Just in case something did happen, she had to write it all down, so that people would know the truth.

On the table, Fawkes began to eat strawberries out of Trelawney’s fruit bowl.

* * * * * *

Minerva opened the envelope Seraphina had given her and discovered a note and a strange malachite pendant inside. “What in Merlin’s name is this?” she wondered aloud. She assumed the pendant was magical and quickly opened the note that accompanied it. As she suspected, it was from Severus, though the note was signed “Warrior”. Only three people knew that was Snape’s Animagus form’s name. One of those was Harry, the other was Dumbledore, she was the third.

Following Snape’s instructions, she slid the Amulet of Communication about her neck, marveling at the rare object. How had he obtained a paired set? They were expensive and the wizard who made them rarely sold them to just anyone. Then again, his son was a Slytherin, and maybe the elder Witherspoon had made an exception for his son’s Head of House.

She clasped the pendant in her left hand and called silently, Severus? Can you hear me?

She was unsure if the pendant could reach over long distances.

It began to glow softly, then she heard Severus’s voice in her head. Minerva? I take it you received the amulet.

I have. Oh, Severus, this is a marvelous way to communicate. So much quicker than letters or firecalling.

I know. Jasper Witherspoon is a genius. I don’t have much time, we are being pursued by Greyback and the rest of his pack of werewolves. I need you to alert the rest of the Order, have them come to the school. We are heading there as quickly as we can fly. The object of our quest is there.

It is? How do you know that?

The one who made it told me himself. Or rather, his journal did. Call the Order, Minerva. We’re going to need everyone we can muster.

Are you all right, Severus? Is Harry with you? Great Merlin, how is it that you ended up being hunted by werewolves?

Yes. We are both fine, Minerva. As for your last question, that is a tale for another time, my friend. Suffice to say that we were on a mission for Albus.

The Transfiguration teacher breathed a sigh of relief. Very well, Severus. I shall call the others and they will be ready and waiting when you arrive. Godspeed, my friend.

Then she removed her hand from the amulet and it went dark.

Going to her fireplace, she tossed down a handful of Floo powder and called out, “Auror Department, Remus Lupin’s office.” Since leaving Hogwarts, Lupin had returned to the Aurors as a consultant, and was currently working on the kidnapping case that had just occurred, along with his best friend, Sirius Black, who was finally well enough to be trusted working a part-time position alongside the werewolf.

Then she stuck her head into the green flames, wishing that she had more than one of those amulets Severus had sent.

* * * * * *

Severus removed his hand from the Amulet of Communication, Harry had given it to him to wear since Severus was his elder and could command greater respect from the other members of the Order. Most of them still tended to treat Harry like a child, despite his defeat of Voldemort twice. Harry supposed it was because he still looked like a kid and was not yet of age. He wondered idly if Severus had ever had that problem when he started teaching with some of the staff, who had taught him.

They were crouched in a small culvert behind a large boulder somewhere in the Highlands. The werewolves were still in hot pursuit, and the two Animagi had finally managed to give them the slip and change back long enough for Severus to contact Minerva through the amulet and make sure she alerted the Order.

Harry was standing next to his mentor, having transformed back from Freedom to rest his weary wings for a bit. He heard a rustle in the underbrush and spun to face it, wand out, but too late discovered it was a decoy.

Something huge and hairy exploded from the opposite side of the culvert, claws reaching to shred Severus, teeth bared and dripping with blood-flecked saliva. One of the werewolves had found them.

Harry spun, reacting with lightning speed, and screamed, “Incendio Maximus!”

Fire burst from his wand in a torrent, slamming into the leaping werewolf and knocking it backwards against a tree trunk. The flames enveloped the unfortunate creature, incinerating it within moments. It died barely knowing what had hit it.

Harry remained frozen for a moment, watching the flames curling up and around the tree trunk. A part of his mind was horrified at the willful destruction of a life, but another whispered that if he hadn’t done what he did, the werewolf might have bitten and infected Severus, or worse. I had to do it. I had to. And yet, a part of him cringed.

“Harry, put the fire out,” Severus urged. “Quickly, before they see it.”

Harry waved his wand and cast a Smothering Charm and the fire went out. Then he just stood there, his mind still in a state of shock.

A hand came up to clasp his shoulder in a firm yet comforting grip. “Don’t think about it, Harry. It had to be done. This is a war, son, and you killed to save me. Come, let’s go. The others will be coming after us soon, that fire was like a beacon.”

Harry blinked. “I’m sorry. I . . .gave us away.”

“Never mind. Come, fledgling. Time to go.” Severus patted his shoulder, waiting until Harry had shifted into his hawk form before joining him in the air.

They sped away from the culvert, flying high and fast, and were soon joined by a familiar snowy form.

Freedom, are you all right? I saw fire! Hedwig hooted, her golden eyes wide with alarm.

I . . .I’m fine. The fire . . .was from a spell I cast. I . . .killed a werewolf. He was trying to bite Severus while he was sending to McGonagall. Freedom told her. Somehow admitting the fact that he had intentionally killed the werewolf was easier in this form. Perhaps because as a hawk, he was a predator, and used to killing to survive.

Ah. Good for you! One less evil creature to worry about. Hedwig said in satisfaction. She glanced down and saw, faw off in the distance, four grey shapes racing over the ground. Don’t they ever learn? Stupid chicken-livered mutts!

She put on a burst of speed and drew even with Warrior.

Freedom remained slightly behind the two, still trying to reconcile the necessity of killing the werewolf with guilt that he had used magic to end something’s life. He had incinerated plenty of inferi, but that was not the same as this. They had been dead, the werewolf, no matter how foul, had been alive.

You’re being stupid, the rational part of his mind argued. Hedwig’s right, one less wicked creature to worry about. You had no choice, it would have bitten Sev. Is it better to let the bloody werewolf live and risk Sev’s life, or to nail its hide to a wall?

He knew the answer to that question—nothing was more important than saving Severus.

But it didn’t take away the fact that killing the werewolf left a curdled sensation in his gut. Merlin, but I wish this war were over. I’m so tired of blood and death, so tired of running and hiding. All I want is to go home and rest. Is that so much to ask?

Disheartened and weary, the red-tailed hawk flew onward, looking forward to seeing the familiar spires of Hogwarts again, and hoping they could locate the last Horcrux in time to save Dumbledore and his friends. Have faith, he scolded himself mentally. A steadfast and true heart shall triumph over all. But whose heart did the prophecy speak of? His or Severus’s?