Heiress of the Curse

Chapter One - A Nightmare Come True

The young teenage girl drifted slowly back into consciousness. After taking a few moments to groggily survey her surroundings, she realized that she lay in a large, soft bed in an unfamiliar, dark room. As her eyes adjusted further to the dimness, she could discern the forms of lavish furniture around her, ornate woodwork on the walls, and a row of heavily curtained windows off to one side. Her puzzled gaze turned at last back to the bed and to the long, lumpy form of her body beneath the satin covers.

The lower part of her right leg ached and throbbed dully, and she felt a wave of nausea pass over her... Had the events of the dreams she thought she had just been having...? No--certainly the nightmare had not been real! It couldn't be real... she willed it not to be...

She glanced around the room once more, and suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. Though her head swam at this abrupt motion, her thoughts remained focused on the one detail she had just noticed about the room.

Where was the door?

Frantically running her eyes along all four walls, she could not see anything but looming bookshelves and peeling wallpaper, aside from the windows. "Where am I?" she moaned, now frightened, her voice coming out in a croaking rasp. Instinctively she groped for her wand... where was it? She thought she'd had it with her when... But however she had ended up here, wherever "here" was--whoever had brought her here must have taken it. This was not a comforting thought in the least.

She started to push back the covers and climb out of the bed. Then she finally became aware of the multitude of scratches and bruises she bore on her limbs, especially on her legs, and the bandages that covered her lower right leg. Tangible evidence...

Her mind began to reel once more. She remained poised at the edge of the bed, not having swung her legs over the side yet. She was wearing a simple, short white nightgown, almost like hospital clothes. How had she come to be... who had dressed her this way? All sorts of other questions flew into her head in rapid succession as she fought the growing realization that her supposed nightmare had not been just that.

And this realization sent an icy prickle down her back. If, indeed, the events of last night--or whatever night; she had lost all track of days and hours--had actually happened to her, then she was now... she was now... She couldn't bring herself even to think the dreaded thought. Shuddering, she pulled her legs (a bit painfully) up against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She sat there rocking herself back and forth, and soon a single tear spilled in a tiny rivulet down her left cheek.

She did not know how long she sat that way. When eventually she shook off the trance and forced herself to shove aside her fear and pain to pursue a more practical course of action, she decided to concentrate on finding a way to escape from her strange surroundings. How to get out of this prison of a room...

It occurred to her then that if she could open one of the windows and climb out, maybe it was only a short drop to the ground. She eased herself out of bed and padded over to the row of windows to test her theory. Drawing aside a thick, red velvet curtain, she found herself looking out upon a dense patch of forest that stood only about thirty feet away. Twilight cast murky shadows across the tops of the trees... the tops of the trees, which were mostly on the level with her line of vision. Either these were very short trees, or she was--

At least three stories up, as far as she could tell by glancing way down toward the ground. Never mind about jumping out. Or even climbing down the outside wall; she was much too afraid of heights to attempt that. Besides, she belatedly realized, there was probably a locking spell on the windows anyway. Indeed, they didn't budge when she tried to force them open. It seemed as if she truly was being held a prisoner.

But she was not one to admit defeat so easily. There had to be some way to get out of here... right? She wracked her brain for old Muggle movies she had watched or books she had read in which the characters were trapped in a similar situation. What had they done? Wait... sometimes bookshelves had concealed hidden doors and passageways, and could be opened by pulling on a certain book. It was a bit clichéd and unlikely, but what else did she have to go on?

She wandered over to the nearest bookshelf and began perusing its contents, pulling the large volumes out one by one. The first shelves contained mostly classic novels, of both the wizard and Muggle sort, and then moved on into spell books and magical reference books. (She recognized some old Hogwarts textbooks among them.) After going through the contents of two whole, sizable bookcases with no luck whatsoever, she became tired and considered taking a break.

Before she could turn around and walk back to the bed, however, a sudden sound greeted her ears. It was a small popping noise--like the sound of someone Apparating into the room! A voice accompanied the pop. "I see you have an interest in literature... or were you, perhaps, looking for a way out?" There was a hint of amusement in its timbre. And, unexpectedly, it sounded like a woman.

The girl turned around warily to face her addresser--who turned out to be a fairly young and pleasant-looking woman, she noted with some surprise. The newcomer had dark, chestnut-colored hair and wore a knowing, but not threatening, smile upon her face. Her robes were pale blue, and the wand in her hand was casually held down at her side.

"I am a great lover and collector of books," she continued, "along with my husband. I can assure you that each of those books is an authentic edition, and none of them will open a door or perform any other such trick. Although the textbooks can teach you how to do many tricks yourself. You are a student at Hogwarts, are you not? You look the right age." Her tone was casually conversational.

The girl nodded slowly, still on her guard but figuring that it couldn't hurt to answer this obvious enough question. At last she found her voice and decided to ask some questions of her own. "Who are you? And where am I?"

"I will tell you shortly," the woman replied. "But first... it's rather dim in here, isn't it?" Raising her wand, she pointed it toward some candles that hung in sconces on the wall and muttered, "Incendio." They flickered into flame. Wiping her brow, the woman appeared relieved. "Always did have problems with that spell... unfortunate accidents and such."

The girl cocked her head, slightly amused now. The woman stepped toward a thickly cushioned chair, sat down, and motioned for her "guest" to have a seat as well. Feeling exhausted enough to tumble into the bed and drift back off to sleep despite the stranger's presence, the girl nonetheless took a chair across from the woman.

"Tell me your name," the woman proceeded to say, gently.

My name? Shouldn't she be the one answering that for me? Trapping me here in this place, taking away my wand... "Why?" she asked stubbornly.

The corners of the young woman's mouth twisted upward. "Because it's commonly considered polite? ...All right, I'll tell you mine first. Rhiannon Lupin."

Lupin... Was this woman related to a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor she'd had in her first year at Hogwarts, five years ago? Or, no, the woman was married, so was her husband related? She began to voice her query aloud before she realized what she was doing. "I've had a professor by that last name--"

Now the woman, Rhiannon, was smiling broadly. "Yes, Remus. I know him well; very nice man. And no, we are definitely not related, if you were wondering."

"Definitely not"? But this Rhiannon was acquainted with him, or at least said she was, and anyone who was a friend of the nicest professor she'd ever had... The woman didn't seem to be evil, anyway, and against her will the girl began warming up toward her "hostess." Reluctantly she said, "All right. Well... my name is Marian Caldwell."

"Pleased to meet you, Marian. That wasn't so hard," Mrs. Lupin cheerfully returned.

Marian shrugged and fixed her gaze on the richly embroidered rug.

"Now then, to business," continued Rhiannon Lupin, "and your questions. Who are you and where am I? No, wait--who am I and where are you? I believe that's what you asked?"

Marian nodded, feeling another twinge of amusement.

"Well, we've got that first one covered nicely already. Although I could go on and give you my life history if you wanted... no, no," she grinned. "It would be much too boring, even for me to relate. I'll skip all that and tell you now that we are in a house belonging to me and my husband, on the edge of a forest and several miles away from the nearest wizard or Muggle settlements. Roughly, we are directly between Plymouth and Exeter in Devon. Much closer to Exeter."

Exeter--that was where Marian's father worked, and her family lived in a small town outside the city. So she couldn't be too far from home. Perhaps the forest outside the window was the same forest in which her... "nightmare" had occurred.

And then the events leading up to her finding herself here began to flood back into her brain. She knew now that it hadn't been a dream... The terrible, terrible truth of what had happened had come back to scoff in her face. She stared miserably down at the cuts and wounds on her limbs, and especially her right leg. Under those bandages must be... the bite. Tears sprang into her eyes at the remembrance of it, and she tried to blink them back so the woman wouldn't see.

Finally she swallowed the lump in her throat and asked weakly, "How long have I been here? What day is it? And... did you find me and bring me here?" Now she felt bad about having been so suspicious of this woman, who might have been the one to save her life.

Rhiannon Lupin smiled gently as if guessing her thoughts. "You have been here since yesterday night, so almost twenty-four hours. It is Friday the tenth of July. And yes, I did find you out in those woods and Apparated you back here. This room can only be reached by Apparition. I have not meant to hold you prisoner, but I did want to keep you here for a while, for your own safety and recovery."

Marian nodded numbly.

Her rescuer continued, and her voice had now turned grave. "So... I assume you understand what happened to you last night? What it was that attacked you?"

Painfully, Marian whispered, "Yes."

"It was a werewolf," Rhiannon voiced what the girl could not. And then she fell silent, herself, for a few moments, looking almost as sorrowful as Marian felt. Marian noted this with mild curiosity before recalling that Professor Lupin had been revealed to be a werewolf at the end of that school year long ago... This woman must really be a friend of his, and perhaps her thoughts had turned to him.

Presently Rhiannon spoke up again, and it seemed that Marian's guess had been near the mark. "I believe that Remus, I mean Professor Lupin, taught your class about all kinds of Dark creatures? So you must know the basics about werewolves."

Marian answered in the affirmative. "They change only on the night of the full moon, it is very painful, they are extremely dangerous to humans," she intoned bleakly. "Receiving the bite... receiving the bite turns you into one yourself."

"Yes."

It was all so detached and clinical, Marian thought bitterly.

"Let me take a look at your leg again," Rhiannon suddenly said. "I want to see how it's healing. Does it still hurt?"

"A bit," answered Marian. In truth, it hurt more than just a bit, but since she had always considered herself to be so tough, and brave, and fearless... quite a Gryffindor, she was... the pain was nothing she couldn't handle.

Concernedly, Rhiannon said, "If you really are in pain, I could give you another draught of a healing elixir. I keep quite a store of herbs and medicinal potions--brew them all myself." She smiled a bit sheepishly. "I'm no healer, but Potions was my best subject in school... despite the teacher," and here she wrinkled her nose.

Marian grinned slightly. Must have had Snape, too. The woman could have been young enough. And her kind offer did make Marian feel very grateful, so she thanked Rhiannon and said, "I guess... I guess maybe I could do with some more."

Rhiannon stood up, nodding. She raised her wand and said, "I'll be right back." With another pop, she Disapparated from the room. Marian sat and waited for about half a minute before the woman returned with a flask of fuchsia-colored potion in her hand. Marian recognized it, from sight and smell, as something that Madam Pomfrey had once given her when she'd sprained a wrist.

After the girl had imbibed it, her caregiver set aside the empty flask, knelt down, and slowly began unwrapping the cloth bandages below Marian's right knee. Wincing, Marian nevertheless dared to glance down at the dreaded wound when it was uncovered. A rough ring of jagged teeth marks was torn deep into her skin, just below the kneecap, and there was still some crusted blood around it. "Let's clean that off," said Rhiannon tersely. "Ablutio." The blood disappeared.

But Marian could stand the sight of the raw, torn flesh no more. Her nausea returned, and a shiver went down her spine as well. She looked away, but the image of the bite remained burning in her memory. Despair threatened to overwhelm her--seeing the bite had been the final confirmation that her doom was sealed, that the curse had indeed been laid upon her.

As Marian struggled within herself for control over her emotions, Rhiannon thankfully began to bind up the wound once again. Then she stood and returned to her chair, saying nothing for several long moments.

At last a look of sudden realization came onto the woman's face, however, as if she had just remembered something. "I'm sorry," she said, "I should have asked you this sooner, but are you hungry? Would you like anything to eat?"

Food... it had escaped Marian's thoughts, too. She shrugged. She wasn't sure if she could stomach anything right now, although the weakness in her limbs told her that she probably should try. It had been a whole day since she'd last eaten. Reluctantly she agreed to this proposal of Rhiannon's as well.

The young woman this time took Marian with her when she Disapparated from the room. They reappeared in a large kitchen, and Marian grabbed onto the edge of a countertop for a moment to steady herself. She had never traveled by Apparition before, and it made her insides feel funny.

Rhiannon began to bustle about in the refrigerator, offering her guest all sorts of different things. Marian was too tired to have any preference, and so she said "Sure" to a couple of random dishes that she recognized. She sank down into a chair to wait while her meal was prepared.

Cooking food the magical way was a lot quicker than Marian's Muggle mother was used to doing it. Her father was a wizard and would occasionally "help out" a bit with his wand, though. Rhiannon had used her wand to light a fire on the curious-looking stove, but had also managed to ignite some nearby curtains in the process, which gave Marian a quick burst of fear. However, the unwanted blaze was soon put out by a stream of water from Rhiannon's wand, and the young woman looked back around at Marian sheepishly. "Fire and I... we have personal issues," she said.

Within a few minutes the meal was ready, and thankfully had not been scorched itself. The smell of warm, delicious scalloped potatoes and cooked carrots had brought Marian's appetite back considerably, and she practically inhaled the food. When she was done, she pushed her plate away and at last remembered to thank her hostess.

Rhiannon used Wingardium Leviosa to send the dishes over to the sink, where they began to clean themselves under the faucet. She faced Marian across the kitchen table and asked if there was anything else she could get the girl. Marian shook her head and then yawned widely. "You must still be very tired," Rhiannon said knowingly. "Why don't I take you back to that bedroom so you can sleep now? It's very late, anyway."

Marian agreed, and they Apparated back up to the door-less room. Sinking down into the soft bed, the girl's final thoughts before she fell asleep were of her parents and how they must be feeling right now with their daughter missing... but she couldn't bring herself to be worried at the moment... she would remedy the situation in the morning... She entered dreamland.

* * *

Rhiannon waited until ten o'clock the next morning to Apparate back into the girl's room, to make sure she would be awake already (but hopefully hadn't been for too long). Sure enough, Marian sat in a corner chair browsing through a thick book on magical ailments and remedies. Rhiannon's heart went out to the girl. Was she looking for a cure for lycanthropy? Surely Remus had informed all his classes that none existed so far... there was only the Wolfsbane potion, which merely took away the dementia but could do nothing for the painful transformations.

Ebony-haired Marian raised her dark brown eyes to look up at Rhiannon, and quickly closed the book. They exchanged polite "Good mornings" and Apparated together down to breakfast. Rhiannon felt a little bad about keeping the girl in that cage of a room, but at least it was a comfortable cage, and she didn't want to chance her running away before she could talk with her about a few more important things.

As she set some eggs on to fry--thankfully having no problems with the Incendio charm--she remembered that she should probably give Marian her wand back soon, and her clothes. Rhiannon had washed the clothes the previous day, cleaning all the blood off them and mending a few tears. She was just about to retrieve the girl's things from her bedroom when her tawny owl, Ambrose, flew in through the open kitchen window clutching the Daily Prophet in his talons. She took the newspaper from the bird, stroking him affectionately on the head and giving him a large crumb from a biscuit to nibble. He hooted his approval and zoomed back outside to perch in a tree in the nearby forest and sleep.

Rhiannon glanced briefly at the front page of the Prophet before setting it aside in its usual spot, a corner of the counter, from where her husband would pick it up and peruse it over his breakfast. He had still been sleeping when she'd gone to collect Marian, and there was no wonder about that. Besides, it was a Saturday. Let him rest.

After she and Marian had broken their fasts and satisfied their stomachs, she did return the girl's things. The master bedroom was empty by that time, and she could hear the shower running in the private bathroom.

Marian changed back into her set of Muggle clothes in the hallway bathroom. Tucking her wand into the belt loop of her shorts, she rejoined Rhiannon in the sitting room. The first thing she asked was, "Am I going to get to go home soon? My parents are probably going out of their minds with worry."

Rhiannon sympathized. "Likely so. And yes, you can leave some time today, but I need to discuss a few things with you first." A look appeared on the girl's face like she was expecting a stern lecture. Rhiannon smiled reassuringly. "I'm not going to drone on like Binns does, or reprimand you like McGonagall might." Marian visibly relaxed. "Besides, I have no power to take points from Gryffindor, especially over the summer holiday." There; she had coaxed a smile from the girl. Best to try and lighten her mood a bit.

"How did you know that I was in Gryffindor?" the teenager inquired.

Rhiannon shrugged. "I just guessed my own house. And you seem to be dealing with your predicament pretty valiantly." A compliment could encourage her, too.

She was just about to segue from the mention of Marian's predicament into her advice on how to deal with lycanthropy, when Remus entered the room, performing a drying spell on his gray-flecked hair. He still looked a bit worn out, but he had definitely improved since yesterday.

"Good morning, Sweetheart," she greeted him cheerfully.

"Good morning, Darling," he said as he bent to kiss her briefly on the lips. Then he pulled back embarrassedly as he noticed that they had company sitting right across the room and watching with a slightly open mouth.

Marian obviously looked familiar to him, Rhiannon could tell. She wondered if he remembered the girl's name.

"Er... hello, Professor Lupin," Marian finally spoke up, slightly pink in the face.

He returned her greeting and then said, "It's Marian, right? Marian... Caldwell?"

"Yes, sir. I was in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class five years ago. I was just a first year back then."

"Ah, yes," he nodded. "I seem to recall that you were one of the best in that class, especially with hinkypunks."

"Thank you, sir," Marian replied. Her gaze wandered back to Rhiannon, still quizzical, and Rhiannon thought she could guess what the girl was wondering.

She chuckled. "I told you last night that we weren't related. I guess I forgot to mention that he's my husband."

Marian nodded, accepting this. Excusing himself, Remus headed off to the kitchen to eat.

Rhiannon proceeded to pick up where she had left off in her talk with Marian, although she decided to approach from a slightly different angle. "First of all," she said, "I was wondering how you came to be wandering through that forest so late at night."

The girl hung her head. She was silent for a moment, likely gathering her thoughts before she began to speak. And when she did speak, she kept her eyes fastened to the floor. "I left my house in the afternoon and rode my bicycle into the woods, taking along a picnic dinner. I like to do that a lot in the summer; it's so beautiful and peaceful there. I usually follow a stream that cuts through the woods, so I don't get lost. But Thursday... well, I spotted a flash of white through the trees and thought it was a unicorn. I left my things behind at the stream and made to follow it. I followed it a long, long way; and as it grew dark I realized I had gotten lost. I tried to retrace my steps, but I got all confused, and I couldn't find my way out, or to the stream. I tried to think of a spell I could use to help me find my way, but that didn't occur to me until it was very dark. And then..." She broke off, her voice full of pain.

Rhiannon understood what had come after "and then." The attack.

Feeling an urge to walk over to the girl and give her a comforting embrace, she wisely thought better of it and stayed in her chair. She allowed a bit of silence to stretch on before saying gently, "And so I found you." Marian sniffled. "I'm very glad I was able to reach you in time, Marian."

Finally the girl looked up and met her gaze again. The dark eyes had hardened. "You're glad you found me. And I thank you for that, for helping me," she didn't sound quite sincere. "But as for 'in time'... I'm sorry, but you found me after it was already too late! Now I wish I had just died, rather than face... rather than face this for the rest of my miserable life!" She gestured vehemently toward the bandages on her bitten leg. Heavy breathing accompanied her angry speech.

Thankfully Rhiannon had known the girl might have this kind of reaction. She had asked Remus for some advice the night before, asked him to tell her exactly how the girl might be feeling. It seemed that his counsel had been accurate.

"Do you really wish you were dead?" she said softly. "At this young age? Have you really given up all hope for the future?"

Marian was breathing more slowly and calmly now, and there was an air of defeat about her. She didn't answer for a while. Rhiannon let her words sink in.

"No hope for the future," the girl murmured at last. "None that I can see... You say I am so young, but look at what has happened to me. No one should have to go through this, not at any age!"

"I agree," said Rhiannon gently. "My husband should not have had to deal with this curse, either, for the past thirty-odd years... but he has. He has, Marian. I believe you knew that already." The girl nodded soberly. "And how have you observed him handling it?"

A light of confusion entered Marian's eyes. There was more silence. Rhiannon suddenly felt very much like a guidance counselor to this troubled teen, and she wondered how she was handling the job. Was she breaking through to the girl at all? As she self-consciously pondered over the situation, Marian suddenly began to cry.

Deep, wracking sobs shook the girl's body. The tears flowed, flowed from the wellsprings of her exhaustion, her pain, her fear, her despair... her loss of innocence. Her loss of her carefree youth. Childhood as she had known it was over, and she was thrust into a bleak future before she could even do anything to prepare herself for it.

Still Rhiannon resisted giving the girl a hug, wondering if there would come an appropriate time or not. She let Marian cry until the tears had all run out, until the small body had stopped shaking. The girl needed this, she knew. A deep, healing purging of her torrential emotions.

Remus entered the room with the Daily Prophet before either of the young women had broken the silence. He stopped abruptly in the doorway when he noticed the condition of his guest, and an awkward look came upon his face. He turned and was about to exit again, but Rhiannon motioned for him to come in and sit down. He reluctantly took the armchair beside his wife, who spoke.

"Anything of interest in the Prophet today?" Rhiannon had decided it might be best to lighten the melancholy mood with casual conversation.

Her husband obliged her. "Typical Ministry propaganda," he said dryly, "and, of course, more wild stories speculating on the recent activities of the Boy Who Lived. So, no--nothing of interest." He flipped a couple of pages. "Ah, 'the scoop' from Rita Skeeter... I think I'll be skipping over that article entirely."

Rhiannon snorted. "That woman... don't even get me started talking about her."

Grinning sardonically, Remus replied, "I certainly know better than to do that."

"As I know better than to get you started talking about Dolores Umbridge."

It was Remus's turn to scowl. Rhiannon realized a bit too late that she probably shouldn't have made that last comment, as her original line of conversation had been an attempt to lighten everyone's mood. "Did you sleep well?" she asked quickly, trying to return their talk to more neutral ground.

He answered in the affirmative, relaxing again.

Nice recovery, Rhiannon. "I'm glad to hear it."

Becoming bolder, Rhiannon turned her attention back to Marian Caldwell, who seemed to have made a recovery of her own. "I never asked you how you slept, either. Were you comfortable enough?"

The girl nodded. "Yes, thank you. I slept like a rock."

"I hope you weren't waiting for too long before I came to get you this morning."

"Oh, no, it was only about ten minutes."

"That's good." Rhiannon paused, then plunged a little deeper back into possibly troubled waters. "I saw that you were reading a book about magical maladies and cures."

She had expected the girl to become tense at this remark, but Marian merely nodded. "I suppose you can guess that I was reading about lycanthropy."

"A safe enough assumption, I'd been thinking."

To Rhiannon's encouragement Marian continued speaking in calm, even tones; and this time not to her but to her husband. "I know you taught us that there was no cure, Professor Lupin," she said, "but I... I just had to read the words for myself, and I thought that maybe there could have been more recent discoveries, published in a newer volume, and that book was pretty current..."

Her former professor smiled. "I completely understand, Marian."

"No such luck, of course," the girl finished, "but I didn't really expect it anyway." There was a quiet kind of resolve to her voice now, which did not escape Rhiannon's notice. "And could I please ask a favor of you, sir?"

"Of course."

If Rhiannon had been grateful for the girl's newly adopted attitude, this next comment delighted her considerably. "Would you teach me one more lesson, Professor? How to live with lycanthropy?"