Foreign Defenses

All characters are the property of JK Rowling, except for Viviane Chance, who is my own creation. This story starts about one-third of the way through Prisoner of Azkaban.

Chapter Three

Viviane swung herself onto the terrace railing and stared up at the constellation Cassiopeia. You thought you had a tough time, Viviane told her. You weren’t a professor charged with teaching Fred and George Weasley dangerous curses. The next moment she grinned, remembering the salutary effect of the Shrinking Spell she’d directed at their more vulnerable areas. They’ll think twice about casting another Negative Force spell on my chair after that. Neville Longbottom hasn’t caused a disaster in a week. And Hermione Granger, while not exactly enthusiastic, has stopped tutting under her breath during class.

Grasping the railing more firmly and leaning backwards as far as she could go, Viviane undid the Staying spells that bound her hair and it tumbled free, strands of it blowing about in the wind that had kicked up after sunset.

As she sat back up, Viviane's eye caught the glitter of the diamond fangs in her serpent ring, and she recalled, amused, the conversation she'd overheard between the Terrible Trio speculating about it, as well as the serpents on her sword. It seemed she was regarded as either a raging Slytherin or an escapee from one of those Muggle horror films. Kicking her heels against the stone balustrade, she mulled over the strange custom of dividing the students into rival houses. Albus had offered to let her be Sorted, but the last thing Viviane wanted was to be arbitrarily thrown into some pre-defined group by a talking hat. She did wonder why Albus housed her in Ravenclaw - she, a woman of action. Well, he had a quirky sense of humor. And she did love her rooms.

Viviane slid back onto the terrace, but she found herself pacing off the squares of the flagstones and forced herself to stop. The only noise she could hear was the scrambling of creatures in the grass, eager to escape the talons of Malhereuse as he hunted for his evening meal; the unaccustomed quiet sent warning chills along nerves used to incessant clamor. She twisted the ring around, the one she'd had made in the shape of a striking serpent, to remind her of whom she was. Or had been. Or wanted to be. The breeze could no not longer mask her sense of apprehension, and, suddenly feeling exhausted, she turned to climb back into her rooms through the window. She made a mental note to ask Albus if she could cut a door onto the terrace from her rooms. Climbing through windows was silly.

Viviane threw back the eiderdown quilt on her bed, with a sigh of ardent anticipation, tinged by a hint of regret. Such a fine bed, and I’m doomed to occupy it alone, she thought. I certainly haven’t seen anyone at Hogwarts I’d want to share it with. Just as she raised one leg to slide between the sheets, a chime sounded and her Sneakoscope sneakoscope started to whirl. Hagrid's signal. She threw on some robes and her cloak and hastened out of the castle. Hagrid met her at the forest’s forests' edge, looking anxious. "You will be all right, Professor Chance, won't you?" Hagrid said.

Viviane shrugged. "Of course. Go back to bed, Hagrid!"

He looked down at her, concern narrowing his eyes and puckering his mouth. "I doan' know. I'd rather wait for you. It – it isn’t a dragon is it? You don’t kill-"

"To. Bed," ordered Viviane. "It will be but a few moments." Ignoring his affronted "Hrrrrumphs," she made her way around the back of his hut.

The Forbidden Forest closed around her as Viviane followed the tracks and the noises to a small glade, where the magicked dragon was busy setting fires among the branches of the oaks. Is this the best they can do? she thought, as the small, spiky head turned towards her and, tail lashing, the dragon flexed its claws. Viviane drew her sword and after a short flurry of swipes and counter-thrusts, she was bearing down upon the creature, about to finish it off, when she was startled by a noise behind her. Distracted, she snuck a glance around, and the dragon took the opportunity to rake its claws across her side, leaving ragged red lines in her flesh. Viviane gasped, staggered to one side, and tried to hold the beast off with her sword. As it lunged for whoever was behind her, she caught it across the throat and it screamed and vanished, leaving Viviane holding her side where blood was leaking through her ripped gown.

Turning, sword ready to confront another enemy, she saw Ron and Harry, standing white and terrified behind her, an Invisibility Cloak on the ground around their feet.

They jumped backwards as Viviane hurled her sword into the damp earth of the Forbidden Forest, leaning on it for support as she glared at them. "What are you doing here," she snarled. "Do you realize you could have been killed? You nearly caused me to be so-" To the relief of the boys, she stopped, gasping for breath for several seconds before resuming her glare.

"You two followed me in here, and you’ll have to get me out. I'm rather weak from loss of blood, and I can't properly Staunch it until I get back to the castle." After wrestling her sword out of the ground, accompanied by curses that Ron, face scrunched in concentration, was obviously doing his best to remember, she sheathed it and beckoned for them to come towards her. She held on to a shoulder of each, digging her fingers into their flesh just a little deeper than necessary, and they set off out of the Forest. "What possessed…. you to …follow me? Are you crazy?" Viviane queried, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Well, no," Harry replied. "But I guess we've been curious about you because we've seen you go into the Forest at the oddest times."

"Oh yes. That. Well, since we're just out of the Forest, let's sit down. I'll explain some things…to you…while I rest up for our last leg of the walk. The last thing I need…is to be the subject of wild rumors sweeping through Hogwarts."

Ron's eyes met Harry's across Viviane's back. Elated despite their fear, they lowered a shaky Viviane to a seat on a fallen tree. "Here's the short version."

"But-"

"No time, Ron," Viviane interrupted. "Here's the story. I was hired by Dumbledore to stop various creatures that the Death Eaters are using to…challenge Hogwarts. That dragon you saw wasn't 'real,' - created through a few very Dark Arts. They don't last more than a few hours…more of a nuisance than anything…a waste of our time. Could kill you though….I was hired to deal with them….and teach."

Viviane turned to Harry. "Harry, Trelawney was partially right that first morning. I’d be a welcome bonus to Voldemort, if captured, but I can’t say why. I don’t know why." Her teeth flashed in a ferocious, if pained, grin. "I’m not quite the prize you are, though."

"Does it have to do with your sword?" Ron interrupted, glancing over at Harry’s face, which had gone even paler.

"Possibly. Right now I need to get back to the castle and attend to this wound. But you must promise me to tell no one - not a single person - about what I do in the Forbidden Forest…or that I'm wounded, or about my possible connection with Voldemort. Now help me to my feet."

When Viviane’s face went white and she nearly retched when they hauled her up, Ron and Harry realized just how badly Viviane was hurt, and how much blood was caked down the side of her gown and the inside of her cloak. "Oh, and your curiosity has cost Gryffindor 100 points," she panted.

"You wouldn't!" Ron exclaimed, aghast.

"I’m being quite lenient. I should send Gryffindor into the negatives …for what you’ve done …tonight, but I’m in a generous mood. I must…explain the loss of points…Dumbledore’s office first thing tomorrow morning. Got it?"

"Do you want us expelled?" Harry whispered, horrified.

"No, although it would make my life easier. From what I've heard, you two have endangered several people … since you've started Hogwarts. I, for one, refuse to get killed through your stupidity. And need I mention that this place is lousy with Dementors and Sirius Black is running around loose?" Abashed, their protests silenced, Ron and Harry exchanged a resigned look as they started back to the castle.

Ron and Harry’s knees were nearly buckling as they all but dragged Viviane up the front steps of Hogwarts and into the entrance hall. As Viviane let go of them and made a wild grasp at the newel, their sighs of relief turned into frozen panic when they heard a familiar and most unwelcome voice behind them. "So. What is this? Out after hours? Professor Chance?" Snape grabbed Viviane's arm and turned her to face him, his expression changing from triumphant to dumbfounded as he recognized his fellow faculty member. Viviane stared up at the Potions Master with a defiant frown.

"Ron, Harry, to your rooms. Now. I’ll see you in the Headmaster’s office, first thing tomorrow." With guilty but relieved nods, they fled to the their room, leaving Viviane to face Snape, whose brows were contracted with ire and interest.

He stared at her, his mouth curling down in acid disbelief. "What is going on? Practicing Dark Arts with Weasley and Potter, are we? Tours of the Forbidden Forest, maybe, indulging those Gryffindors in their insatiable thirst for dangerous pastimes?"

Rage straightened Viviane’s spine, her pain temporarily forgotten. "You’ve been demoted to Filch’s assistant – I hadn’t heard. This is a matter I'll take up with Albus in the morning. Good night." Snape stepped forward and grabbed her arm, but, startled to find her nearly as tall as himself, hesitated, his fingers tightening around her bicep with insistent pressure as he recovered and leaned in towards her.

"I don’t know what you are up to, but fair warning - I will find out. And when I do, Dumbledore will be the first to know."

"Fine." Viviane snapped. "Go ahead. I have his permission to be out, I will take responsibility for the actions of Ron and Harry, and I'm too tired to discuss this with you just now." Viviane swept away before Snape had a chance to detain her, but struggled with the heavy door to the Ravenclaw tower, her angry strength fast draining away. Once inside, loss of blood made her lean against the wall and bend over, hands propped on knees. I can’t faint…I can’t…damn, how embarrassing….

Suddenly a hand was thrust into her face, and a voice said, "You're bleeding. You've been injured. What have you done?" Viviane looked up and Snape was staring at her, uncertain accusations in his eyes, holding out his hand that was smeared with blood. He threw back her cloak and blinked in shock at the sight of her bloodied gown. "You must go to Madame Pomfrey," Snape said. "You have gone and badly injured yourself doing..?" His face swooped towards hers, his eyebrows lifted in mock inquiry.

"Thanks for the concern, but I can't. I can't let anyone else know that I've been injured tonight."

"Playing the heroine will get you nowhere," said Snape. "Don't be stupid, you'll bleed to death."

"I won’t. I know some spells that will help slow down the bleeding. I'm almost to my rooms, I can manage." Viviane rolled away from him and, clutching the wall, began to inch along in the direction of her rooms. She’d just built up some forward momentum when, without warning, she was thrown off balance by the tail of her serpent clasp digging into her throat. With a gasp of shock that ended in gagging, she clawed at the stone, staggering and nearly falling backwards. A hand grasped her elbow to steady her, and Viviane looked back to see Snape still standing behind her, a nasty smile on his face and one of his hands firmly twisted in the material of her hood.

"Unless you get better help than that, you're dead, because simple Staunching charms won't help that wound. We’ll go to my office, where I’ll brew a potion that will stop the bleeding and heal the wound if you insist on not seeking help." His grin hardened into a sneer. "Unnecessary heroics," he muttered as he began to pull her along. "Waste of my time, and most unappealing."

Viviane, in a futile effort to clear her spinning head, began to count the sconces in the walls that swept by at a fast clip. Cannot faint…cannot faint… She tried to concentrate on the warmth of Snape’s hand on her elbow, cold despite her woolen robe. Doors opened, were silently shut, musty smells assaulted her nostrils, making her even more nauseous. Suddenly his voice jumped out at her "Don't bleed on my carpet! Stay on the flagstones." Snape pushed her into a hard, uncushioned chair, and she watched as he threw ingredients into a cauldron, muttering to himself.

Her eyes were nearly closed when he turned and bent towards her in a blur of dark wool, the folds brushing her knees as he curled his fingers around the battered mahogany owls adorning the arms of her chair. She looked up and blinked in dizzy surprise.

"Chance, I suggest you refrain from taking Potter and friends on field trips. I'll help you out this once, but the Headmaster will surely not approve of students walking into the Forbidden Forest, especially if they’re being taught whatever barbarian arts you engage in. Dying a bloody death in a hallway of Ravenclaw Tower would be equally frowned upon."

Viviane stared into the dark eyes, suddenly so close to hers. They were impenetrable, with only the gleam of malice to relieve their depths.

Enough. Enough of this impossible wizard, Viviane thought, and wriggled her shoulders in a futile attempt to sit up. "My title at this school is Professor, so please use it, Severus. I am not one of your students that you can bully with impunity. How dare you imply that I would willingly put any student in danger? Me, a barbarian? Spare me your insults and your cures." She tried to stand but found that it was a struggle.

Snape reseated her with a push on her shoulder, and with the other handed her a cloth saturated with potion. "Here. Press this against the wound, and I'll give you some extra to use tomorrow. If you insist on teaching, wear a cloth soaked with the potion under your gown, and in a few days the wound will be gone."

Viviane dabbed at the wound, wincing as the potion stung her ripped flesh. The stinging brought her to her feet just in time to see Snape putting up the rest for her to take. She snatched the flagon that Snape shoved at her, took some Floo powder from the box wordlessly held out, and disappeared into the fire.

~*~*~

"So, you two followed Professor Chance into the Forbidden Forest." Dumbledore began. Harry and Ron nodded, their eyes studying their shoes. "And as a result, she sustained what Professor Snape tells me is a serious wound." Neither boy looked up. Harry finally spoke. "I didn't realize...I'm really sorry..."

"Apologies are inadequate, Mr. Potter. You put yourselves and Professor Chance in serious danger, all to satisfy your curiosity. I understand that you explained your role to them, Viviane?" She nodded, huddled in a chair with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. Behind her, she heard Snape murmur, "You look dreadful. A pity you were so hostile last night; if you had displayed some manners, I might have brewed you a Sleeping Draught."

Dumbledore cleared his throat, then explained Viviane’s role to Snape, who glanced down at her incredulously.

"Her? She's wandering around the Forbidden Forest by night and teaching by day? No wonder-"

Dumbledore interrupted so smoothly that only Viviane noticed. "As for you two, I'm taking 100 points from Gryffindor, and if anything like this happens again, you will be expelled. Understood?" They both nodded, although Harry breathed "100 points! " to Ron.

~*~*~

"Wait. Wait a min-" The voice was lost in gurgling.

Viviane propped herself up on her elbows and opened her eyes just wide enough to let in light. Damn those twins, she groused inwardly, and shut them again, ignoring the plight of Elliot Bones, hit broadside by Fred with some kind of Uncontrollable Drooling curse, from the looks of it.

Her wound apparently couldn’t decide if it preferred to burn or itch, and taking her students outside to practice Shields while she napped on the lawn hadn’t helped. At least this is my last class of the day, Viviane thought, dropping back down on the chaise longue she’d Accio-ed from her sitting room. Without opening her eyes, she yelled, "Class dismissed. Those who need to go to the infirmary, do so." She knew she’d be sure to hear about the various conditions of her students through Remus; he never failed to be amused by the results of her teaching methods.

She lay there for a few more moments, waiting until the last of her students’ footsteps died away. When she opened her eyes again, it was because something was tugging insistently at her hair, and sitting up hastily, she looked around. It was dark, and Malhereuse was next to her, feathers ruffled, standing impatiently on one foot. He released her hair as she stumbled to her feet in confusion, conscious that she was cold, damp and that her side hurt abominably. "What time is it? I’m too late for dinner, that’s for certain; no matter, I’m not hungry, anyway. Merlin’s beard, how my side hurts." She had a long way to go across the lawns to a room she knew would be cold, dark and silent, so different from the light and hubbub of the inns she’d been used to. "No blasted Apparating on Hogwarts’ grounds," she muttered, shaking a finger and adjusting an imaginary pair of half-moon spectacles as she stumbled to her feet and began the walk back to her rooms.

A perfectly-made fire with a tray of bread, cheeses, soup and fragrant coffee set before it was the first thing that Viviane saw as she walked into her rooms. Softly closing the door behind her, she leaned against it for a few seconds, blinking hard. The light flickered off of the books lining the walls and sparkled in the silver threads of her carpet, bringing back sharp memories of returning to the chateau after fall evenings spent gathering apples in the Aquitaine orchards. Rubbing at her cheek in a dismissive gesture, she walked to the bedroom, shedding clothing and summoning a towel to wipe the dew off of her skin before wrapping herself in a dressing gown.

I am hungry, after all, Viviane thought as she sank down on the sofa. Starving. She tore off a piece of the still-warm bread and dipped it in the onion soup, equilibrium, if not strength, flowing back into her as she began to devour the food. Afterwards, in between sips of coffee, she anointed her cloth with Snape’s potion and pondered the strange behavior of the enigmatic wizard.

After his irruption into her classroom that first day, she'd thought him one of the coldest men she’d ever met. But can a truly cold man be so bitter, she wondered. Lounging back on the sofa and gazing into the fire, she murmured "You hate Harry, you loathe Remus, and distrust me. And yet you've been there to help all of us-" She shook her head and tried to settle down to correcting the stack of papers heaped in the corner of the sofa, but when she couldn’t understand what point Gerald Goyle was trying to make, she gave up. Serves me right for assigning a paper to the entire class as punishment for…. Viviane sighed, not able to remember what they had done to anger her and irritated at creating extra work for herself.

"Oh hell," she said loudly, and got up to pace around the room, her hands clasped on the top of her head as the potion began to dull the pain. "He'll only be rude to me," she remarked to Malhereuse, perched near the window. "But he’s an important part of Hogwarts, a respected Professor, and I’ve only got Remus to depend upon here. And even Remus is an outsider, after all these years. I suppose I should try to get on with the damned wizard." The bird just eyed her. "Sit there, then," she said. "Don't talk me out of it!"

During her third agitated circuit around the room, Viviane’s eye caught sight of a large, leather-bound book lurking in the corner of a bookcase. Drawing it out, she ran her fingers over the vellum of the first page, tapped her fingers thoughtfully against it, then tucked it under her arm as she headed to the door. Taking a deep breath, she flung it open before she could back out of her plan.

There stood Snape, obviously about to knock. He nearly took a step backwards, but checked himself with a jerk badly disguised as increased hauteur as he surveyed her from head to foot. "The students were right. You do look awful, but you’re able to stand, so you must not be wasting my potion. I’ll be going, then-"

"Yes. Well. It was a long day. Do come in." After a moment’s hesitation, the wizard stalked past her and into the room. Viviane realized that she had been counting on the walk to Snape's office to figure out what to say to him, and she nervously tightened her grip on the book before setting it down on a table somewhere between the door and her desk. Snape had stopped cold and he gazed around the room, his eyes wandering from the carpet to the paintings to the bookshelves, where he scanned the rows of titles, finally moving over to them, running a long finger down the spines. "Quite a library you have. Better than Hogwarts' collection in some aspects - some of these are extremely rare." He took one off the shelf and opening it, began to read.

Viviane allowed herself a cynical smile. "Yes, this is my inheritance, of a sort. I realize you expected wooden utensils and bearskin. Sorry to disappoint." Viviane turned and asked "A glass of wine? I have some lovely Moravian cabernet."

"On a school night?" Snape queried with horror as he sat down with the book. A wineglass was thrust into his hand and Viviane seated herself opposite him, holding her glass up.

"To you," she said. "I'm sorry I was so rude last night. Thanks - thank you for all of your help in - in saving my life."

Snape jumped. He had taken a long sip of the wine and was staring at the rest with wonder when he looked across at her, surprised, and demanded, "What did you just say?"

Viviane gave him a bemused smile. "I said thank you, Severus, for your help last night."

Snape put the wine down, stood up and proclaimed, "I must go. I have class to prepare for." His robes swirled as he turned in a tight circle and strode towards the door.

"Severus? Severus, wait!" Viviane leapt to her feet and hurried after him, picking up the book she’d discarded earlier. Snape halted, and turned on Viviane with an expression somewhere between panic and irritation. She stopped abruptly.

"What? I really have no more time to stay."

"I want to give you this." Viviane said, holding out the massive tome. Instinctively, Snape took it and began to turn the leaves, a stunned look creeping over his face as he perceived what the book contained.

"These are recipes for potions I've only heard rumors about...some of these are…are…" He looked at Viviane with narrowed eyes.

She retorted, "I didn't steal it, if that's what you're worried about. It's mine legitimately. You are the only person I know who could find this useful, who has the skills to understand what is contained in this book." Her nervousness was unaccountably returning. "I have very little experience in brewing Potions, so it is of no use to me. All I ask is that you keep it safe."

Snape flipped through it, scanning the pages. He stopped, a puzzled frown creasing his face as he tilted the book slightly. Viviane had to smother a grin before explaining, "Some of the Potions are ancient – and written in ancient French. If you ever need me to translate, I'll be glad to. Some of the language here is practically unreadable to any but a few." Snape stood still, looking doubtfully between the book and Viviane. Then he said, "Thank you" and strode off down the hallway, still absorbed in scanning its contents.

Viviane closed the door, rolled her eyes, remarked to Malhereuse, "Strange man!" and decided upon a second attempt at grading papers. She squinted at Goyle’s paper from several different angles. "Deciphering ancient French is nothing, compared to this," Viviane muttered. "I can’t believe I have to grade these." She looked down at the imposing pile next to her, and suddenly laughed. "It was only a punishment, after all. Not a real assignment." Taking up the stack of parchment, she nearly set her flue on fire when she tossed them on top of the blazing logs, and picking up Snape’s wineglass, sipped as she watched her students’ work get reduced to ash.

*****

"Viviane, my dear niece. What a pleasure it is to have you at Charenton"…Her Uncle Donatien, oozing agelessness and evil, took her hand and kissed it as she screamed…

The bedclothes tangled around Viviane’s body as she writhed, caught firmly in the grip of her nightmare. "No…no, get away…get away from me…" she murmured, throwing one arm across the bed. "I want out…"

Her nightmare was interrupted by another voice echoing out of her fireplace.

"Viviane…Viviane, get up. We need you in Gryffindor Tower, at once." She flopped over, gasping, for a few moments before springing out of bed. Instinctively reaching for her swordbelt and boots, she shouted, "Be right there, Minerva," and wrestled them on before Flooing to Minerva’s room and through the halls to the Gryffindor Common Room.

The portrait was ajar and it looked like everyone was just settling down for a long, wakeful night as Viviane stepped through the portrait hole. Professor McGonagall, restrained worry emanating from every gesture, took Viviane aside. "Sirius Black. He got in, somehow, and was standing over Ron Weasley with a knife."

"Sirius Black?" repeated Viviane, looking over at Ron, puzzled. "In here? With a knife? Ron, are you sure?"

"Er, er, yeah. Yeah, I woke up and he was standing over me and-" His voice, starting out shaky, ended in an uncomfortable squeak. Viviane stared at his red face and the way he nervously looked up at her from under his eyelashes, and a corner of her mouth turned down in derision. Hmph. Gryffindor courage is missing this evening, she thought.

"All right, I need to go check things out," she said, laying a hand on Ron's shoulder as she scrutinized the portrait hole, then turned to peer into his face. "You OK?"

"Er, yeah," answered Ron. He added in a whisper, "Are you going to go crashing around after Sirius Black in that?" Viviane looked down at her green silk negligee, cinched by her worn leather swordbelt, her dragonhide boots incongruously sticking out from beneath the hem.

"Oh. You're right. I'm not exactly dressed for it, am I? Accio!"

A heavy broadcloth cloak flew into Viviane’s outstretched hand, or would have, except that it got completely entangled around Professor McGonagall. After a few moments of struggle she emerged from the swathe of material, her mouth twitching. Holding it out to Viviane, she said, "Do be careful. And try not to catch cold – Madame Pomfrey would hate to have to call in a Quidditch team to hold you down while she dosed you with Pepper-Up."

Viviane chuckled. "I’ll try. And-"-"

"Yes, do let me know what you find. I’ll be awake." The Transfiguration professor turned back to the students, leaving Viviane to make her way outside to search for her fugitive.

She crept through the bushes and vines that hugged the foundations of the castle, sword drawn and at the ready. The vines, awakened by the lights and activity inside, were busy gossiping; the slower shrubs were just beginning to stir, muttering sleepy complaints when Viviane’s cloak caught on their branches. "Shhh…." Viviane whispered. "That damnable Germaine Sprout and her insatiable penchant for experiments; I’ll have to tell her to mute this abominable vegetation she created," Viviane decided amidst the rustle of vinish speculation.

As she rounded the corner of the building, inching along against the smooth curve of Ravenclaw Tower, she was startled to see the outline of a man working his way through the foliage ahead of her. Striding swiftly across the distance between herself and her prey, she flung the person against the wall and trapped him there, her sword against his throat.

"Who-" she began, but stepped back, sword falling from her hand.

"Remus?" His profile was sharp against the light spilling from a nearby casement.

"Remus? He stared at her, his face taut and his eyes sparking with something like confused rage.

Viviane grasped his face in her hands. "Remus, great Merlin, what are you doing here? What were you thinking? Unarmed?" She groped for his hands, one of which held his wand. "At least you weren’t being entirely stupid."

His canines glinted as he bared his teeth in nothing resembling a smile. "No, I wasn’t being stupid. Perhaps…perhaps I am trying to correct some former stupidity. Have you seen him?"

"No. I think he’s long gone, by now, waiting for another opportunity. He’s got time, after all. Remus do you have any idea how he may have gotten into Hogwarts? During your time here as a student – as a friend of his - I know you had-"-"

Remus continued to stare down at her with that terrifying expression, macabre amusement etched in the lines of his face as he watched comprehension slowly build in her eyes. He merely blinked when she grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him back against the wall.

"Animagus! Animagus. Back when we were living in Shipley, you told me….you told me they became Animagi animagi to help you through your…Sirius Black got into Hogwarts as a dog. You knew. You knew this and yet…does Dumbledore-"

Viviane could swear Remus was on the edge of breaking into crazy laughter. "No. I haven’t told him."

Her fingers tightened on his arms. "You bloody fool," she spat. "Long ago, I told you that you had to come to terms with Sirius and what he had done. You said you didn’t know what to believe then. Do you believe now, in his guilt? Now that he’s pulled a knife on Ron Weasley? Were you out here hoping to capture him, or help him, or were you only hoping to see him again? You-"-"

Remus struggled from her grip and in his turn, trapped her against the building, one arm on either side of her head, only a slight tremor of his hands belying his conversational tone. "Do you distrust me, too, now that you’ve become respectable? Now that you’re a Professor with a reputation to uphold? After all these years and all we’ve been through, have you finally joined ranks with the rest of the world and distrust every gesture that I make? What I’m out her for, Viviane, is an explanation. I’ve come to terms with Sirius and his betrayal, as best I could. But I deserve to hear it first, from him, what he did and why. Without witnesses, before the Ministry gets through with him and not after he has a chance to concoct and feed me one of his extravagant tales – I heard enough of them during our schooldays. I’m owed at least that much."

Viviane reached up and touched his cheek. "Oh Remus, what a mess you still are. About this Animagi problem-"

Remus turned away and retrieved her sword, handing it to her. "Are you going to tell Dumbledore?"

She laughed. "He might know already, and is using you as some kind of bait. I wouldn’t put it past him. But no, it isn’t my story to tell. You have to decide the where and when of that. But I warn you, Remus, if I do catch Sirius and he resists, I can’t promise you his safety."

He bared his teeth in that not-smile yet again. "Why do you think I was out here? Goodnight, Viv." Remus gave her a quick kiss before turning back towards the entrance of the castle. As he left, Viviane slumped against the wall and whispered, "It isn’t nearly that simple, Remus Lupin, and you know it."

****

"Ready, Viv?" Lupin called as he knocked on her door.

"In a minute. Come on in," Viviane called back, and Lupin walked into her sitting room to take a seat by the fire.

"Yes, do warm up before we get stuck out on that field! Do you think we could get away with smuggling in a flask of Old Ogdens?"

"Er, no," Lupin said. "You'll have to find some other way to stay awake."

"I could use something," groused Viviane, coming out of her bedroom, still winding her braid around her head. "The break-in your damned friend staged last night kept me up until five in the morning. What a debacle – and Ron Weasley. You should have seen the child. I’ve always rather liked the boy; he has a bit of spark in him, but last night he was absolutely petrified with fear. His face was as red as his hair, and he simply couldn’t control his voice, or look me in the eye. The courage of you Gryffindors is overrated-"

She glared at Remus, whose initial chuckle had progressed to a poorly disguised laugh, as he tried and failed to make his cough sound convincing. Finally, he gave up. "Oh Viviane, sometimes you can be so stupid," he said in between bursts of laughter. "Don’t you remember what you were wearing last night? One of your Parisian negligees, as far as I could tell in the near dark. What fourteen-year-old boy wouldn’t blush and stammer at the sight of such impressive, uh, Professorial cleavage, much less be able to look you in the eyes? I’m sure Gryffindor Tower is buzzing about Professor Chance showing up nearly starkers. As a matter of fact, by now the rumor is probably that you were absolutely starkers. Be prepared for avid attention on the part of your next several classes."

"I’d better not overhear a thing about it," she said, taking the cloak Remus held out to her, "or I’m going to send all of Gryffindor to you for a year-long detention."

She turned to raise the Guard Spells on her door, and the two of them began their walk to the Quidditch field.

"Quidditch isn't as bad as I thought, really," Viviane said, trying to change the subject. "Potter is quite the flyer - a treat to watch," Viviane commented as they headed out to the field. "Oh no, what did he do now?" she asked as an exasperated expression crossed Lupin's face.

"He got hold, somehow, of an old map that me and some - old friends - made back when we were students here. Not only did he use it to illegally go to Hogsmeade, but Snape caught him with it and nearly figured out what it was."

Viviane stopped short. "A map? Made by you and Sirius, detailing all the secret ins and outs of Hogwarts, no doubt, one that perhaps Sirius Black would love to get his paws on? Are there any other massive breaches of security you’d like to tell me about? A counterspell for the front door? A list of all passwords, present and future? A trail of liver treats leading up to Potter’s room?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Stuff it, Viv. I got the map back, no harm done. Harry is an intelligent boy, but sometimes he just doesn’t think. Now, shall we go and watch some Quidditch? And stop squinting at me like that. It isn’t the least bit menacing."

Without another word, she grabbed his arm and began to walk at a fast clip towards the Quidditch stands.

To be continued…