Chapter 23: "And I scream from the top of my lungs. "What's going on?""

Chapter 23 - "And I scream from the top of my lungs. "What's going on?""

"Days like these are far too rare to cheapen with heavy handed words, Ravenclaws." Circe said somberly as she paced, hands on hips, before the Quidditch team in the changing rooms.

"Then don't…" muttered Roger Davies. The new Captain after Inglebee's departure from the school.

"Shush, Roger. I'm having my inspirational sports-speech moment." she replied impatiently, waving him down. "But I do know that great moments are born from great opportunities. But forget it all. The school. The crowd. The cheers. Just think about what got you here: your blood and sweat and toil and hard work. And many years from now, when you're old, in your beds would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that, for the chance to fly in the skies in pure, unadulterated victory?" she paused, casting an eye over the faces of the team.

They looked back at her as if she were talking in another language.

"Um… yes?" Cho Chang ventured bravely.

"Yes! That's what I want to hear!" she grinned back at them like a maniac.

A mutter of uncertainty rippled through the team and Circe sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose.

"Look guys. You've all worked fantastically hard. We've had some successes and some failures but that doesn't matter. All that matters is that you try your best and enjoy the game. Whatever happens, I'm proud of all of you."

"Really?" said Randolph Burrows, his little face looking up at her brightly.

"No. Get out there and crush the Gryffindors into the mud or I'll stamp on all your toys."

Circe climbed the last of the steps up to the teacher's spectator podium and emerged into the stands, looking for a seat. The heavens had opened and everybody had their umbrella up, meaning she couldn't see who was sat where. She muscled her way down to the very front, eager to keep a watchful eye on her team, and raised the blue hood of her quidditch jacket over her head. She was thankful that she'd managed to finally find a uniform that fit her properly and even though it wasn't her original, she still wore it with pride. She spotted Minerva from across the pitch, on the observation tower opposite her. She was difficult to see through the mist of the rain, but she spied the bright splodge of crimson and gold on her Gryffindor scarf, set against her signature vivid emerald green. Circe gave her a wave and she thought she saw the old witch wave back. Yet the rain stung at her eyes and she quietly bemoaned how poor today's visibility was. Perhaps that would go in her favour; Potter was a glasses wearer like her, and she knew all too well how difficult it was to see in a downpour with spectacles. Cho was a promising seeker and this could be the difference between loss and victory for her.

"Professor Smith!"

She turned around to answer whoever had called her and saw sitting on the front bench Remus, Dumbledore and… Severus. They all held huge umbrellas over their heads and whilst Albus and Remus smiled eagerly through the wetness, Severus seemed to shrink in on himself like a cat in a bathtub. Remus whispered to Dumbledore and the two of them shuffled along the bench, creating a spot in which for Circe to sit. Right in between Remus and Severus.

Circe adjusted herself awkwardly as she placed herself in between the two men. She looked to Severus, smothered in a heavy black cloak and clinging on to his umbrella, then to Remus, clad in a plain green anorak holding his own brolly aloft. She moved a little closer to Remus, under his umbrella, all the while feeling the burn of Severus's eyes on her. Circe inclined her head towards Snape as the hubbub of the crowd seemed to dwindle and die, all replaced by his nearness and his heavy presence. Snape kept his eyes on his lap, partly from nervousness, partly as he didn't quite know what to say to her, but Circe was caught in the curves of his face and the intensity of his expression. He looked up to her and she gasped ever so quietly. Lupin caught his friend and Snape in their sexually-charged staring competition and he rolled his eyes. Remus was feeling a little wicked. He smiled coyly to himself and took his wand from his pocket.

"Ventus." he whispered, pointing at Dumbledore's umbrella.

In a flash, a strong gust of air yanked the umbrella from the Headmaster's hands and it went soaring up into the sky.

"Oh goodness!" the Headmaster said, watching it soar off into the rain clouds above.

"My my, what a blustery day it is Dumbledore." said Remus, feigning ignorance. "Here, sit close to me and we'll share my umbrella."

He moved the brolly away from Circe and fat raindrops began dripping onto her head. Circe shot a confused eye to Remus and he grinned.

"Hey-"

"Profesor Smith, I'm sure Professor Snape wouldn't mind sharing his umbrella with you." Remus lilted.

Snape's head shot up at the mention of his name and he blushed deeply beneath his black cloak.

"Remus, what are you- ow!"

Lupin had given her a hard poke in the ribs and with a push of his boot, he shoved Circe's feet in Severus's direction. Circe gritted her jaw at him, but all Remus could do was smile coyly at her. He turned from Circe and she was left sitting in the rain, also blushing fiercely. She slowly inclined her head back towards Severus and he straightened his back and coughed awkwardly. He moved his umbrella slightly nearer to her. Circe sighed and shuffled closer to him, until their thighs touched and she could smell the warming sandalwood and burning herbs that clung to his robes.

"I… um. I got your present, Severus." she said, her voice sounding small and unsure in her own ears.

"Was it… to your tastes?" he replied stiffly.

"It was beautiful. Thank you." Circe said, catching his eye.

For the first time since the beginning of the year, he saw a flash of the old her in that look. Kind and gentle. He felt himself soften under her thankful gaze and he allowed a small smile to pull at the corner of his mouth.

Am I forgiven? Dare I hope?

"But I can't possibly keep it." she said, hurriedly, dropping her eyes to her lap.

"No, you must. I insist."

"Severus-"

"You deserve that and so much more."

Severus blushed even fiercer than before. His eyes bulged. It had slipped out of him before he had mentally checked himself. Circe was trying desperately to still her furiously beating heart. Had this been a more private setting, she would have leaned into him and kissed him. But she felt the watch of eyes on her. From the students and the staff seated around her… but his closeness and warmth were so potent to her, so inviting.

The sound of the match-start whistle made her jump and dragged her back to reality, the first crack of lightning accompanying Hooch's shrill blow. She leaned forward, her attention immediately grabbed by the match as she watched her team zoom off into the rain. Severus had to adjust the umbrella forwards so she didn't get soaked.

As the game progressed, Circe's voice grew increasingly more hoarse. She shouted at the Ravenclaw team with words of praise and encouragement. Passing on tips and tricks to anyone who flew close enough to her on their broom.

"Cho..! CHO! Eyes on the sky. Tail Potter. I think Granger charmed his glasses to repel water!"

The Ravenclaw girl nodded to her and zoomed off in hot pursuit of Harry. They needed to catch the snitch. Although they'd been playing well, they were still fifty points behind the Gryffindors. Although she couldn't see it, she could feel Minerva's smug grin from across the pitch. She scowled and looked bitterly up at the grey sky. There had been a couple of mid-air collisions already, as players had flown into each other, unable to see clearly. The commentary too was lost to the brutal winds and it was hard for Circe to follow what was going on. However, the crowd were making entertainment for themselves, standing in the cold, miserable rain as they were…

Someone somewhere from within the Gryffindor stands had started to sing. The lone voice then joined by more and more, and soon it was loud enough to carry over the storm. First it had been 'Sweet Caroline' and Circe cast a wonderful bright smile to Lupin as she realised it had to have been one of her MMAP members who'd heard her story. Then after that, they had gone on to other tunes that they'd listened to together in the club. The Ravenclaws led the charge with a football-chant like version of 'What's Up' and Circe had joined in with the howling chorus of :

"And I say, "Hey-ey-ey-ey"

Hey-ey-ey

I said, "Hey, what's going on?"

Now it seemed that they had adopted the tune as their own, as the chorus refrain was hollered out every time the Ravenclaw's scored a goal. They amended the last line to "I said, "Wood, what's going on?" as a funny quip at the Gryffindor Keeper. Circe was ecstatic to think that she may have started a small Hogwarts tradition of each Quidditch team having their own signature song. Perhaps when the other houses got together they'd put their collective brain cells together to come up with their own team tunes. From over the muffled dampness of the rain, she heard the chant come again from the Ravenclaws...

"And I say, "Hey-ey-ey-ey"

Hey-ey-ey

I said, "Wood, what's going on?"

… and she knew someone must have scored a goal.

Wish I could have bloody seen it. God Damn this miserable weather.

Her eyes traveled up to the stone-coloured clouds and she saw Harry whizzing around on his broom. She gasped and pushed the tip of Severus's umbrella back. A shower of water landed onto his lap and he exclaimed in surprise.

"Look!" Circe pointed to Potter, dipping and diving in the sky followed closely by a whippet quick flash of blue. "Get him, Cho!" she hollered.

They both disappeared up into the clouds and Circe had to turn away as her glasses were soon coated in raindrops. She grabbed on to Severus's arm tightly as a surge of excitement took over. Severus tensed up as he felt her cold fingers around his bicep.

God I missed you… he thought.

But Circe's grip grew frighteningly tight around him and he looked with furrowed brows to her face. Where there had once been a look of pure excitement and joy, there was now a horrified, deeply troubled expression.

"Circe… what is it?" his breath clouded out in front of him as if he had puffed on a cigarette.

It was chilly.

"Severus, it's snowing again." she muttered monotonously.

It was. It was deathly cold.

A sable black robe flitted in between the clouds high above her. It disappeared again. But the falling snow and the icy air confirmed Circe's fears.

Dementors…

Severus dropped his umbrella and let the snow fall around them. He too cast his eyes up into the pendulously dark sky. He flinched as he spotted another black smear of a robe in the sky.

The next thing they knew, Harry was falling from the sky. Motionless and broomless he plummeted to the earth. Severus and Circe both gasped in unison as they watched the rapidly descending boy being pursued by a squadron of some eighty, ninety, one hundred swarming Dementors. Severus fumbled in his pocket for his wand, but he cursed loudly as he realised it was in the pocket nearest to the hand that held the umbrella. Circe was luckily quicker to act, and from her jodhpurs she pulled her wand and summoned the happiest memory she could.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A dazzling white light emerged from her wand and she heard Dumbledore beside her cast the spell to stay Harry's falling. Her spell shifted and formed from a nondescript white ball into her familiar arctic wolf. She thought of that baseball game in New York, she thought of her and Lupin dancing with the MMAP, she thought of sitting in the Scottish National Gallery with Severus. Trying to push out all retrospect or hindsight that might poison the memory for her, concentrating on how it made her feel in the moment. The joy and happiness it had brought her then. That was all that mattered. The wolf bounded towards the Dementors, seemingly growing larger with each step. It chased away the demonically robed monsters with a snap of its jaws, and they scattered off one by one, disappearing back into the storm clouds.

She collapsed back onto the bench once she was satisfied the vile creatures had all been successfully chased off. Both Lupin and Snape were at her side instantaneously. Remus pressed a bar of chocolate into her hand as her head swam, before disappearing from her side to tend to Harry. Everything felt like it was underwater, the sound of panic and raised voices muffled and muted. The bar was now open and unwrapped in her palm and a set of slender fingers raised it to her mouth and she munched down compliantly. Circe felt the softly falling snow turn back into bitingly hard rain, hitting her cheeks in splashes of cold. The world began to slowly return to normal; Sound came back to her ears and she became aware of Severus sitting at her side, his hand over hers.

"Eurgh, fruit and nut." Circe said jovially, waving the chocolate bar. She smiled weakly at Severus and laughed.

She tried to stand up, but wobbled on her feet precariously. Severus was quick to hold her up, his hand sturdy on her elbow.

"Have another bite." he encouraged.

She did so, sticking her tongue out in mock disgust as she chewed on the raisins in the chocolate.

"Is Harry-"

"He's alright. I think he was out cold by the time he touched down, but he looked unharmed. Dumbledore's just had him stretchered away."

"Who caught the snitch?"

Severus thought he may have misheard her. "I-What?"

"Who caught the snitch…!?" she repeated forcefully.

-----

She still felt a little queasy after the walk back up to the castle, but the fresh air had done her good. Snape was walking by her side, his arms folded over his chest as he cowered under his umbrella. It was still raining, but Circe's exhaustion after casting the patronus charm had given way to a rather euphoric feeling. She walked unbothered in the downpour, a spring in her step, running up to members of the Ravenclaw quidditch team to give them a hearty hug or a ruffle of the hair, before sauntering back to Severus's side.

"Cho Chang, woman of the hour!" she shouted, sprinting over to the Ravenclaw seeker and giving her an exuberant pat on the back.

The young girl laughed. "Thank you Professor."

She smiled at her teacher. Chang was pulled along in the throng of students all walking back to the castle and Circe turned back to Severus, her whole being somehow glowing. Her eyes were on fire with triumph.

"You don't think it's somewhat of a hollow victory? Considering that Potter fell out of the sky before he could catch the sn-"

"Severus, shush!" she interrupted, laying a single finger over his mouth. "Have you found out who Barbara Streissand is yet?"

"No…" he mumbled.

"Well, Don't rain on my paraaaaaade!" she sang, twirling around a few times.

Severus sighed and let her have her moment of victory. But something sat uneasily in his mind. He had watched her patronus emerge from her wand, huge and confident, and it was odd… he could have sworn he felt his own wand respond to the charm. His own chest swell with happiness as the arctic wolf grew in size. He had been too slow to react again, but at least this time Circe knew it wasn't for want of trying. Circe watched him, deep in introspection. She reconciled that part of her bright mood was the joy of having her closest friend back. To be on good terms with Severus again, in so far that anyone could be on 'good' terms with him.

"Why do you think the Dementors were that…" she trailed off, searching for the right word. Numerous? Bloodthirsty?

"Agitated?" Snape offered.

"It certainly felt like that, didn't it."

They were both quiet for a while, both in silent contemplation as they relived the Dementor attack that had just happened moments before.

As they entered the castle, both could instantly tell there was something amiss. The students were buzzing, but not from the recent quidditch match. There was a nasty feel in the air. Like something unsettling had happened. Circe grabbed at Percy Weasley as he raced past her, almost making the red haired boy skid across the stones.

"Percy! What's happened?" She asked brusquely.

"I… I need to find Dumbledore." He muttered.

"Answer her, Weasley!" Severus shouted.

"I don't know! The Fat Lady… she's gone!"

"Gone? What do you mean gone?" Snape demanded, his short temper beginning to show.

"The portrait's empty, Professor. Three huge great rakes through it!"

Circe let go of Percy's sleeve and the boy scampered off to his duty. She cast a look at Severus and he to her, and they both broke into a run towards Gryffindor tower.

They pushed through the amassed throng of Gryffindors, all huddled in front of the empty portrait, at a loss for what to do next. Luckily Minerva was already there to keep a tenuous grasp on order and calmness.

"Minerva! What's happened?" Circe breathed through the crush of bodies.

She gasped as she saw that Percy had been right in his summation. Three deep, vicious claw marks ran from right to left down the whole portrait's surface.

"I don't know…" Minerva replied, the tiniest shake of emotion in her voice.

Dumbledore arrived not long after, quizzing the other portraits that hung on the landing. All of them were maddeningly unhelpful: screaming, cowering behind their animals or props, hysterically crying into the arms of their portrait mates. Until they came to Sir Cadogan, the fifth century knight, perched on top of his fat little pony.

"Thine Rotund Lady is yonder!" He pointed up to a painting a few floors above them.

As one, the student and staff body moved to his direction and went charging up the stairs in a huddled squash.

"My Lady," Dumbledore called out gently to the oil painting. Circe heard a dramatic whimper and knew it was her. "My Lady, tell me what happened."

"He's here, Headmaster!" She cried, sending all the other frames on the walls violently shaking. "That vicious beast! He's in the castle! Wanted to come into the Gryffindor common room, but I stopped him, I did! Had no clue what the password was."

"Who's here?" The Headmaster asked again, but Circe could have shouted the answer.

"Sirius Black!"

-----

The school, of course, had been searched from top to bottom by the staff. Circe even poked her head down some of the passages she'd explored with Severus last year, but the scar near her left eye and the horrible memory of being almost crushed to death prevented her from searching them thoroughly. Their search had not unearthed the elusive Sirius Black. That evening all of the Gryffindors were sleeping in the Great Hall, Potter included, already back from the Hospital wing after his fall. Lupin was nowhere to be seen, off on his own somewhere scouring the castle.

If I was him, I don't know if I'd want to find Black or not… she mused.

Everyone was acting strangely, including Severus. A few times she'd rounded a corner or rejoined him after a brief explore of a pipe to find him experimentally toying with his wand. Whispering and muttering a charm to himself as silvery-white whisps spewed from the end. It looked like a patronus, but not quite formed, like Snape was half-heartedly trying to summon it. Or as if he was afraid to summon it…

She'd gone to bed that night confused and unsettled. As if the very walls of the school were watching her. Minerva's presence was notably absent in the room beside her and she found herself deeply missing the soft footfalls and little comfort sounds of hearing her friend's nighttime routine. Her bed was too big, the room around her too dark and full of hiding spaces. She'd checked and re-checked her conservatory and her bathroom, but sleep that night did not come easy to her.

"Circe…" the unsettling voice whispered to her. And she knew she'd fallen asleep.

Her head snapped up and she was seated at a library desk again. But she was not in the Hogwarts library… or even the Edinburgh bookshop she normally found herself in. Instead she was in a huge, marble-clad ballroom. It was dark. Not a light in the place. Illuminated only by the eerie moonlight streaming through the windows at one end of the ballroom's walls. She looked up to the sky and the ceiling's fresco was flaked and crumbling. She saw the angels, gods and monsters above her and they seemed to move and swirl about on their silky clouds as if they danced through thick yellowing soup.

"Circe…" the voice whispered again.

This time, her eyes travelled to the wall opposite the floor to ceiling windows. There stood a huge mirror, cracked and blackened with age but reflecting back the whole of the ballroom to her. Her feet drew her to the mirror and she approached it slowly, seeing only herself in its surface. But then... emerging from the darkness behind her stood a figure wrapped in a thick black cloak and hood. Circe felt her blood run cold and she tried to swallow the urge to scream.

"Who-Who are you?!" she asked.

The figure did not respond, but merely stretched a dainty, pale hand out to her. She turned around, but no one was there. When Circe turned back to the mirror, the robed figure had been joined by a series of ghostly figures at his back. First there was one or two; an old man, an old woman, a large homely looking middle aged lady…none of them she recognised. But then more emerged from nowhere, seeping into the dark ballroom's reflection: they were seemingly ordinary looking folk, but most of them appeared as if they were dirty or homeless. There were hundreds of them now. All of their frightened faces were unknown to her. But then she spied a girl in a Hogwarts uniform with pigtails and thick, circular glasses. She half-recognised her. Circe turned around again, but the room still was empty. As she faced the mirror once more, the robed figure stood closer, almost at her shoulder.

"Circe…"

She could almost feel the breath on her neck. Her terrified little heart thumped in her ears. But then, a flash of auburn red hair in the crowd took her attention.

"Circe… come to me. Find me." the voice hissed menacingly.

The terrified faces looked at her mournfully. Her breath was ragged. The others moved closer, encircling the robed figure. Pressing in on her.

"Circe!" the voice wheezed by her ear, like nails down a chalkboard.

It grew more alarming and desperate. Circe saw the red hair moving through the crowd again and she flinched.

"Circe!" the hooded figure roared.

Then from the crowd of horrified faces stepped the red-haired woman. Lily Potter.

"Circe, wake up!" she shouted at her.

Circe sat bolt-upright in her bed, drenched head to toe with sweat. She ran a hand through her hair and pulled hard, the pain in her head conforming she was awake. She threw off the bedclothes and sat with her head in her hands on the edge of the mattress. Her heart still thumped and ice cold fear still sat in her veins. She felt way too restless to lay back down to sleep. The image of the hooded figure stood just behind her closed eyelids, arm outstretched to her.

Who were those people? She thought. Lily… Lily Potter again.

But her thoughts of Harry's mother had softened somewhat. Instead of envy or a feeling of inferiority to her, she now felt a sense of gratitude. As if the woman had saved her from a very dark fate by forcing her awake and out of the clutches of the robed figure.

As she rose and put on some warm clothes her rational mind began to kick in.

Perhaps the Dementor attack earlier today got to you. Perhaps you're still thinking about that boggart… It was just a bad dream, Circe.

Still, she didn't have the stomach for any more sleep. In fact, her stomach growled and she realised she'd skipped dinner to scour the castle that evening. She resolved to have a walk. Circe picked up her coat from over her vanity chest's chair and strode out into the Hogwarts corridors. It was beautifully quiet this late at night. The stone walls were cooling on her clammy skin. She started to feel half-normal again as she stumbled into the kitchens, feeling famished in the quiet hours of the morning. Almost as if the House Elves had anticipated her, two cold chicken legs lay on a plate on the countertop closest to the door. She picked up the plate and whispered "thank you" uncertainly to the empty air.

Circe munched on a leg as she loitered outside the Great Hall. The huge oak doors were firmly closed and she thought of the poor Gryffindors snoozing away inside, Minerva included. On the stone floor. In their sleeping bags. Still, an uncomfortable night's sleep was better than no sleep…

Oh, but Minerva's poor back…

She looked down to the floor and stomped down on the hard stones. But on the flagstones beneath her she spotted something unusual. A series of small, muddy animal prints.

"What the…" she mumbled, her mouth half full of chicken.

She followed the prints outside, into the courtyard that was looked over by the tall clock tower. Circe came to a stop just outside of the huge portcullis, having last passed under it on her first night back at Hogwarts, when she had been attacked by the Dementors. She had lost the animal prints long ago, but still kept a weather eye out as she peered through the iron bars. It was a bright night. Unusually bright. Circe looked up into the sky and there, hanging like an opalescent disc in the sky, was the full moon.

Oh, that's where Remus went this afternoon…

Almost on cue, out over the highland hills, Circe heard the ominous howl of a wolf.

She turned to leave, and hurry back inside when the whine of a dog on the other side of the portcullis made her jump. Circe gasped and almost dropped her plate. The dog whined again and eyed up her food hungrily. Circe looked at the animal long and hard, finally realising that it was the same dog that she'd almost hit with her car.

"You!" She said accusationally.

The dog panted and lolled his huge pink tongue out of his mouth. In the light of the full moon she could see him clearer. To her eye he looked like an Irish wolfhound: massive, scraggy and powerful. Yet he still looked painfully skinny to her eye.

Definitely a stray.

Circe looked down at her spare chicken leg and back to the dog. Placing the plate on the floor, she picked up the meat in her hand and held it out through the bars for him.

"Come on, honey." She cooed. She waved the chicken leg at the dog . "Come on, honey." She repeated as he padded closer.

"Come on, h-" she stopped dead as the dog snatched the chicken from her and bounded off into the night.

Circe laughed to herself, grateful for the happy distraction the stray dog had provided. But Remus howled into the night again, somewhere out there in the dark, and a shiver went up her spine. She hurried back inside, hoping that the House Elves had another leg hidden somewhere…