July 31st - The Lake/The Dungeons - Early dawn.

[aculeatus]

Meanwhile, other Order members are making their way into the castle the watery way. Sit back and enjoy the multivarious talents of lunatictide and a_lycoctonum...

Down in the Dark.

One of the nicest things about being in the Order, Luna thought, was that when you had to go and do disagreeable things you knew that you weren't the only one being asked to do them. It made you feel friendlier toward the other person, even if you didn't know them well. Hestia was a dark shape swimming beside her, but the water was so murky here that everything would have been a dark shape. If it weren't for the Bubblehead charm that looked silvery in the water, Luna might have assumed she was swimming beside a Lesser Scaled Graebul. Or one of the mer-people.

That thought was infinitely less cheerful, and Luna shook her head to clear it. She'd tied her hair back and pinned it up, but very fine little strands kept coming free and tickling her face. With her own Bubblehead charm on, she couldn't scratch her nose, and the effect was very annoying. To get her mind off her nose, she wondered what Remus was doing, and whether or not he was thinking about her. She decided that he was probably quite busy, and not thinking about anything but what he was doing. It was a sensible sort of thought. That didn't cheer her any though, so she set herself the task of counting the number of fallen stones with odd shapes that she could see as they went. Some of them were probably swept in from somewhere else, she thought. One of them looked distinctly gargoyleish, and another looked like a little bit of carving that used to be on the wall near the entryway to the dungeons. She wondered how Hogwarts had changed. Whether or not Ravenclaw Tower still had that one seat near the window that you could stand on, and lean out the window and see practically the whole of Hogwarts.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Hestia's pat on her arm. As Luna watched, Hestia gestured for her to follow, and then began swimming toward the surface. Her feet churned little streamers of bubbles that followed her before they disappeared.

Luna patted her arms and waist in a moment of panic. Where was her wand? She couldn't do this without her wand, could she?

And then she remembered. Her wand was where it usually was, behind her ear. She just couldn't reach it at the moment. With an inner sigh of relief she pushed off the bottom of the silty bed, and kicked her way toward the surface.

The Slytherin dungeons had always been damp and cold - it was almost a defining characteristic of that part of the school and, by extension, they were now just about as Slytherin as they could ever be. Black water covered the flagstones, waist-deep and icy, and unsettling ripples stirred the surface where the floor dropped away in a series of ragged-edged pits, opening onto the sub-dungeons. Here and there, a rotting chair bobbed and turned in unseen currents, while the once rich wall hangings trailed their mildewed threads through the murk, lake water beading their surfaces with a silvery sheen. The stone arches overhead were in darkness, but there was enough illumination from the green-shaded light wells to allow a glint of light to skitter across eight unblinking eyes. A thick-bodied spider, no bigger than a clenched fist, crouched on the wall near the steps that led from the room, watchful and still.

She yelped as her head contacted the edge of a floating chair. Hestia was a little distance away, already trying to find a way through the debris and the water further into Hogwarts. Luna blinked, vision gone blurry and fish-eye wide until she realized that she still had the Bubblehead charm on. She waved to try to get Hestia's attention, but didn't succeed until she plucked a broken bit of wood from the water and threw it.

"Sorry.." Hestia waded over and ended the enchantment. She had carried her wand. "Is that any better?" Her voice was low, nearly a whisper. "Let's keep moving, Luna. We have to try to find our way in quickly before they find us."

If Luna saw the spider, she thought nothing of it. With the damp, certainly some creatures would be attracted. She shifted the reduced bundle of necessary things, and prepared to follow Hestia. The wreckage made her sad, but at least they'd gotten as many students out as they could.

The spider's hooked feet made a soft scratching as they negotiated the slick stonework, up and out of the Common Room and then into the twisted corridor beyond. Where there had been soft, lapping quiet as water infiltrated every corner and hidden place of the Slytherins' lair, here there was a low and threatening sussurrus that, in the echoing corridor, sounded like the slithering of huge scales. The spider clung to the juncture between wall and ceiling, careful of its footing. It would not do to fall into the waiting jaws below, allies or not. Instead it scurried onwards, to where the humans were. Mostly human, in any case.

Hestia continued to take the lead as they went. Now and then as she clambered over broken stone, she would stop to let Luna catch up. The sound made Hestia freeze, her wand ready in one hand and the other arm flung out as if to stop Luna from falling forward. "What the.." Her breathy whisper faded into silence. If it was a dragon, it certainly wasn't Maggie. And if it was something else..Hestia's imagination could readily conjure a score of other things every bit as nasty as a dragon. She gave Luna a curt, nervous nod. "Get your wand out, don't keep it behind your ear."

Luna shifted her stance. She hadn't been about to fall, so the protective gesture was nothing more than an indication that Hestia didn't think she could take care of herself at all. Luna took her wand from behind her ear, and began to come around Hestia to take the lead. The smell of water, and rotting vegetation, wood and fabric was overwhelming. She wished, not for the first time, that she'd changed into her Animagus form before she'd surfaced but she didn't think that a robin could climb out of a Bubblehead charm on it's own.

It had been many generations since Aragog, and the spider could not speak. Nevertheless, it was quite able to communicate its urgency to the small group waiting at the end of the passageway. As the Dark Lord's marked followers had silently vanished, they had been left, uncertain and suspicious, half-expecting Voldemort himself to disappear in their wake and leave them to wander the castle until the mysterious force that still dwelled in its surviving walls crushed them under its stones. However, he had initially seemed as perplexed as they were. Then he had smiled, a slow, unpleasant curve of his lipless mouth, and started to issue orders in a lazy, contemptuous tone, as if whatever was happening was almost beneath his notice. That smile had faltered slightly when the air had been filled with the sound of shattering glass, then screams and howls, and then the first of several explosions had rocked the Great Hall. Still, the Dark wizard had remained, and now this particular group had been sent to await any signs of incursion from the dungeons. And here it was. Their leader grinned, exposing rows of pointed, stained teeth, and nodded down the corridor.

"Dinner is served..."

Hestia was picking her way down the corridor with difficulty. Not just the fallen stones but the persistent damp made travel difficult. There were puddles here and there, slimed with black mold, and occasionally the very walls seemed to bleed tears of moisture. She turned her head to glance back and make sure Luna was still behind her.

Luna took a deep breath of the tainted air. Now that she was here, she was quite calm. Little things were comforting, like the feel of her wand in her hand. There were faint sounds ahead, but they were growing louder, and she wondered if Hestia was aware of them. She opened her mouth to warn Hestia, but Hestia motioned for her to keep silent. Either she was already aware of them, or she was paying attention to something else.

There were three werewolves lying in the shadows. Not the casual, big-dog sprawl of sleeping animals, but the hunch-shouldered crouch of animals waiting for prey. Occasionally, one would turn its head sideways to snap at the others, but for the most part they simply lay still, their tense, snuffling breath echoing from the stone walls, distorted into an ceaseless, malevolent whisper. In the near-darkness, they were simply indistinct shapes, save for a gleam of eye or tooth, such light as there was coalescing in the huffs of hot breath that plumed from dirty, blood-flecked muzzles.

Amid the odors of stagnant water and rotting hangings, it was hard to pick out a particular scent. Hestia took the lead, picking her way through the increasingly congested tunnels with care. She did not glance back to check on Luna but Luna had a feeling that Hestia's very *skin* was aware of where Luna was.

Hestia called up a little light, a whispered Lumos that glimmered like a spark in the dimness. It wasn't much, but when Hestia pointed her wand at the ground, it helped them both to see where they were putting their feet.

As the two witches closed, the werewolves stirred, hackles rising, jaws gaping. One by one, they tensed, the scent of their prey driving them almost to distraction. It was all they could do not to whine in frustration, waiting for the women to grow closer as they had been instructed. Only when the faint glow of Hestia's Lumos was barely metres away did they spring, missiles of bristling hair and taut sinew.

Hestia's startled gasp became a shriek. "Protego!!" She could feel the shock of impact but adrenaline was too great to tell if she'd been bitten, only that she was on the ground, and struggling to free herself from the crushing weight, the Lumos temporarily extinguished.

The werewolf dug its back feet into the ground, scrabbling for purchase, and dove its muzzle towards Hestia's throat again and again, snapping at her. Its breath was hot and wet upon her neck, spittle flying from its jaws in slimy ropes to lash against her exposed skin.

The Protego snapped, Hestia's concentration splintered in the moment of panic in the dark. She had her arm up, her wand out. It was all that she had to save her from the werewolf's jaws, but in that moment she wasn't quite sure how many she was facing. She opened her mouth to pull in air and at the same time heard Luna's eerily calm voice intone Lumos.

The light was back. She could see..and with a surge of pure panic shoved upward and away with her arm. At the same time she shouted "Protego!", not once but over and over, the sound incredibly loud in this confined space.

Luna could see the grey snarl of bodies, not sure enough of where the werewolves ended and Hestia began, to dare something like "Ballistis".

The corridor was narrow and twisted, and the werewolves quickly found themselves getting in each other's way in their eagerness to reach Luna, scrambling to climb over the struggling tangle of Hestia and the first of their number. The protection charms following quickly, one after another, formed a rippling shield and the wolves snarled their frustration, lunging at the magic and recoiling as it crackled and sparked.

Hestia shouted "Luna, get back!" At least the water would make it more difficult for the werewolves to reach her. At least Hestia sincerely hoped so. And then she scrambled back herself, clutching her bleeding arm. She could not cast around the Protego, there just wasn't room. And she didn't have time to wait. At least there were only three. Only three, if she could take care of them, Luna could get away cleanly. With that she raised her wand, feeling the blood run down her arm. She couldn't tell if she was bitten or clawed. Not that it mattered. "Finite Incantatem" she said, quite calmly. And then, almost at once: "Malleus Necros."

The closest werewolf got the brunt of the curse, and was bowled backwards, blood and fur hanging away from the pulverised flesh of its skull. Still, it didn't stop moving, dragging itself to its feet as soon as the spell had spent itself against the wall, cracking the stones there. It glared at Hestia out of one eye-socket, the other eye lost in the remnants of its shattered face, and uttered a bubbling snarl, advancing once more, a hind leg dragging. The other wolves escaped lightly, one limping, the other with a patch of burned fur, and it was this second beast that hurled itself at the witch, burying its head in the cloth of her robes as though burrowing, seeking blood.

There was no time for Hestia to do anything but shriek. And she did, over and over as fast as she could draw breath as the wolf found flesh beneath the robes. Her wand dropped in the darkness as she tried, with clawed fingers, to pull the wolf away.

Luna backed away, and aimed at the wolf. Her stomach heaved at the sounds but she tried to concentrate. The stunning spell came naturally with all the practice, so she kept at it, trying to stun anything grey that she could see.

The limping werewolf avoided a curse, moving with a clumsy, bounding sidestep. It was the other, catastrophically injured wolf that was hit and it howled - a wet, clotted sound that both chilled and horrified. It stumbled, legs folding brokenly beneath it, and struggled groggily to rise. Hestia's wolf - for it seemed almost to be part of her, its heavy, rank-furred body flattened against her - pulled its muzzle back with a gruesome ripping sound, then dived forward once more and shook its head back and forth, worrying at the fallen witch.

Luna concentrated only on what she had to do. If she considered for a second what was going on, she would not be able to function. She turned her wand on the one wolf still standing and pronounced the shatter-stone spell Remus had taught them. Hestia was lost..she was limp. If Luna could eliminate one of the werewolves she might have a chance to drag her away.

The spell arced across the short distance and struck the approaching werewolf dead-on. There was a moment of eye-twisting transformation, and the body of a woman, wild-eyed, with matted, filthy hair, hit the flagstones. She stared up at Luna, then across at Hestia, blood oozing from a raw wound between her breasts, and screamed. Hestia's wolf looked up, its jaws dripping, and drew back on its haunches, as if preparing to spring. Not far away, in the shadows, the other, badly wounded werewolf began to creep forward.

Luna had no time for compassion. She turned her wand on Hestia's werewolf and said the stone-shatter spell again. And then she shouted "Run!" at the woman who crouched on the floor. "Run!"

Once again, Luna's aim was true. But her target was suddenly obscured as the other wolf launched itself in a flurry of twisted limbs in one last attempt to reach its prey. The spell earthed itself between its forelegs and there was an indescribable sound as its broken body tried to shift into human form. What landed at Luna's feet was a hellish mess of tissue and bone, patches of fur sprouting here and there between oozing hummocks of flesh and knots of blue-tinged veins. It gurgled obscenely at her, its one remaining eye horribly aware.

"I'm sorry." It was a whisper. "I'm so sorry." She hadn't meant to do that. Her legs felt like rubber but she braced her knees. "I can't fix you. But I can make it stop. I'm sorry. It's my fault." She pointed her wand and whispered 'Dormere". And then she took a deep breath. She didn't hate it, or wish it harm but she desperately wanted it to sleep, to end. "Avada Kedavra."

While Luna spoke softly to the fallen werewolf, the one that had been muzzle-deep in the unfortunate Hestia's entrails had loped into the darkness, and the screaming of the transformed wolf and the gruesome sounds of the one that had failed to transform covered the quiet clicks of its long nails on the flagstones. It slid along the wall like a shadow, gore-painted jaws closed so that it couldn't pant a trail of slaughter-house mist as it passed the girl with the dirty-blonde hair and ashen face. If the movement was visible, it was surely eclipsed by the horror of the sudden grinning silence that swept over the naked woman, who had dragged herself to Hestia's corpse and who now began to feed.

Of the three werewolves that had been waiting in the dark, this one was the sanest. Or, more accurately, perhaps, the least lost in the instinct-laced mind of the wolf. Which is why, when it had turned and placed itself within springing distance, it didn't simply hurl itself at the witch's back and close its jaws on her unprotected neck, perhaps earning one last desperate curse before it made its kill. Instead, it edged towards her, setting its paws down carefully, eyes never leaving Luna's dimly outlined shape as it closed on her. And now, as it grew close enough to rear up and place its front feet on her shoulders, it couldn't help itself. It growled, a basso rumble of intent that directed itself at the base of her spine.

Luna froze, an instinct she could not banish. She twisted to try and bring her wand up, but it was too late. She sucked in one terrified breath, too frightened even to scream.

"No." A new voice clawed at the dingy corridor air, harsh and powerful, and the werewolf behind Luna sat back suddenly on its haunches, cowering. "Back, Runcorn. You've done well." A voice hissed a spell, and light spilled into the corridor, the empty sconces on each side suddenly flaming with a damp, marshy fire. Fenrir Greyback, flanked by two smirking wizards, whose wands were trained unwaveringly on Luna, took a step forwards.

"This one is mine."

Luna was numb. No one could command the wolves like that but Voldemort and one other man. One she'd heard of, but never met. Fenrir Greyback. He was older than she'd expected. For some reason she'd imagined him as still young. It was a bittersweet satisfaction that transformations aged him too. And then she braced herself to be hurt. Rumor had been very explicit. He liked to tear and he liked to eat. And Hestia... She averted her eyes.

Only to discover that Fenrir was close to her, close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her cheek, smell the rotten-meat stink of his breath. She did not close her eyes. If she was going to die she would do it and get it over with. She wondered if her mother would be waiting for her.

He bent closer still..almost close enough to kiss. And he sniffed, a strange, wet, animal sound from someone still human. He made a quiet sound in his throat, and she wondered what that meant, was he just enjoying the smell of his meal before he tucked in?

"Lupin?" The question was barely more than an interrogative growl, and Greyback sniffed again, eyes slitted. Behind him, the wizards shifted uneasily. They did not relish watching the werewolf feed, but that was what they had been expecting, and the change of plan did nothing to calm their nerves. Overhead there was another dull boom as something hidden exploded in the wake of the Klein flask's destruction, and they flinched, raising their wands. Greyback, almost gently, reached down and lifted the wand from Luna's unresisting hand, tucking it into his shapeless robe.

She made a futile grab for it, but it was only half-hearted. Her fingers closed on empty air. She had to *do* something to warn the rest. She had no idea how many were here. Wizards *or* werewolves. She did try to step back. She needed some space between herself and this man's overwhelming presence.

"What about him?" She had to keep him talking, not thinking. "What does he have to do with any--" And then her Floostick blared, and she jumped. In that second her overpowering instinct was to freeze, to childishly hope he hadn't noticed.

He'd been standing close to her, and now grew closer still, searching his captive for a spare wand, perhaps; his calloused hands snagged on her clothing as they explored. No spare wand came to light, but something else caught his attention, and he delved roughly into the bodice of her robes and pulled out something small and metallic. Fenrir held up the silvery lighter, which looked ridiculously small in his grime-smeared hand. For just a moment, it seemed he would be confounded by the floostick's operation. Then, grinning nastily at Luna, he clicked it open and held it up before him, the blue flame answered by a bright, mad spark in each eye.

"What's th-" A crackle of sound interrupted him.

"Calling All Lights. Goblins are lying in wait near the greenhouses. Repeat, Goblins at the greenhouses. Stay back or find a way round. We'll see to them."

Fenrir blinked, staring at the floostick, his lips moving soundlessly. After a minute, he pushed his captive to her knees and cleared his throat. "Calling all lights? This is a message for Remus Lupin. Remember me, do you? I've got something of yours..." He waited for a moment, letting this sink in, then planted his foot deliberately on Luna's shin, putting all of his weight on it, the unmistakeable crack overlapped by her scream of pain.

Shock froze Remus in place as he heard the crackle of a voice he hadn't heard in years suddenly addressing him from an unexpected place. Before he could collect his thoughts enough to decide how to respond, the clear sharp sound of Luna’s voice crying out in pain made the decision for him. Ripping the floostick from his pocket, he yelled into it, “Luna! Greyback, you bastard, what have you done to her?”

"Only a little snack, by my reckoning. I might even be persuaded to skip dessert for now, if you show your face. Alone, mind - not that I'm complaining about your lot sending kids to do a grown wizard's work. You know I like 'em young." He flexed his fingers, yellow nails digging into Luna's arm. "Still, you'll come alone, or the next time you see your little friend, it'll be as leftovers."

Luna's voice was hoarse with pain, and low, but as calm as she could make it. "Don't, Remus. Don't. He has no intention of keeping his word."

Her captor let out a harsh bark of laughter, and pivoted his weight, grinding the fractured bones together. "Want to take a chance on that?"

Luna screamed before she could prevent it, high and thin like a rabbit caught in a snare who feels the breath of the hunter.

As another painfilled cry was ripped from Luna's throat, Remus leaned back against the nearest wall, gritted his teeth and struggled to slow his pounding heart. No, he couldn't take the slightest chance with Luna's life, but letting his emotions run away with him now would only be playing into Greyback’s hands. He needed to stay in control if he was to have any chance of getting her away from that monster alive and unharmed. If it wasn't already too la... No! He couldn't think like that or he was defeated before he'd begun.

Despite the sudden wave of fear that turned his body to ice, Remus forced his own voice to remain level and calm as he replied. “All right, Greyback...you want me, you can have me. Just let Luna go.”

"Perhaps, boy, perhaps," Fenrir rasped, his breath making the blue flame dance. "But not until you're here. Think I'm going to let her go scampering off and have nothing to show for my night except someone else's seconds..?" He glanced towards the sprawled remains of Hestia Jones, drooling slightly. "Get down here. Down in the dark. Then we'll talk."

If she could make him angry enough not to think..angry enough to just react, then maybe Remus had a better chance. On the other hand, not angry enough to just kill her. "See? He's so dim he can't tell that You-Know-Who's got his hand up his jacksie so far you can see the scales when he talks..." She tried to shift a little away but those nails *hurt*..and they were nothing compared to the flare of white-hot pain in her leg that threatened to make her sick.

Fenrir spared her only a glance, but there was murder in his eyes. He closed his hand a little, letting the tips of his nails bury themselves in her flesh. Not quite enough to wound, no, but enough to whiten the surrounding skin as the blood fled from beneath his grasp.

Down in the dark...Remus's mind raced ahead. Probably the dungeons...Luna was supposed to enter the castle through the lake, coming up inside the dungeons. She wasn't supposed to be alone though. What happened to Hestia? Did they separate for some reason? Or had Greyback and whoever was with him been too much for the two women? Remus's face settled into grim lines. If only they hadn't had to spread themselves so thin.

"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that, I'm afraid. There are lots of dark holes in this castle at the moment. Where exactly do you want me to come?"

"Dungeons. And quickly, or I might start letting my appetite get the better of me. She really does look quite the mouthful..." He smacked his lips, an obscene sound, and laughed. "Hurry along, now."

Revulsion turned Remus’s stomach and his hands clenched spasmodically as he listened to the werewolf’s raspy voice ooze out his disgusting threats. No one had done more to destroy his life than this monster. He’d be damned if he’d allow him to destroy Luna’s as well.

“Don't touch her! I’m on my way.” As he set off, Remus vowed to himself that Greyback had ruined his last innocent life. If he had anything to say about it, only one of them would be leaving the dungeons alive.

...to be continued.