Chapter 1
It all had to start with those fucking nightmares again…That killer’s serenade playing in the backs of her eyes. The song of the trees, a forest of flesh. He was laughing while the bleeding woods withered around him. While he consumed them and wilted their leathery roots within the blackened soil.
Just a dream. -It’s only a dream.
Lithia was running, the woods were pitch black but she could sense everything like her eyes were made to work in the dark. -Couldn’t actually see for shit but it was as if she knew these woods like the back of her hand, every tree, every puddle, every dip and rock in the path that could possibly make her falter was easily avoided and yet she knew she hadn’t ever been here before. That’s how she knew it couldn’t be real. Everything was too easy. This was a chase, her blood was boiling, eyes on fire and she was hot on his trail, raging and ready to claim the very skin from his back. -Then it all came to a screaming halt. Suddenly, she was just standing there in the dark, staring into an abyss of black, chest heaving, mind reeling. There was an internal dialogue screaming between her ears or maybe that was just the rush of blood pumping in time with the beat of her heart. Whispers buzzed like blowflies in the trees but her head was pounding and she couldn’t make out a single word of it. The coppery, unmistakable sickly sweet smell of death and corpse rot hit her face, assaulting her physical senses with an overwhelming burn. The stink of it was so acrid she could almost taste it, feel it stinging her eyes. One step forward into the dark, something coiled about her ankle, and then she was dragged off her feet, the impact hitting her tailbone hard enough to make her teeth clap and her head throb from the base of her spine to the top of her skull.
Green eyes opened and Lithia was greeted with the horrific sight of long, claw-like hands gripping her by the ankles, dragging her further down a muddy slope towards an inky black body of water but the thing strewn across the bank had, at one point or another, been completely human. Its skin was bark, its trunk somehow retaining the shape of a human-like torso as it reached for her, fingers clawing at her legs to drag her down further but its lower half was rooted deep into the blood-moist earth. Its mouth was all but a gaping maw of whittled tree bark where a massive rotten, toothless gap hung open to moan at her, baying like an angry hound, there were no words, just the pained cries of a suffering body with a soul trapped inside, unallowed to die and yet she could hear it’s pleas screaming through her mind. The whispers were beginning to make sense. Hissing, cursing, and accusations that she was responsible for their death. That Lithia had left them all to die!
Rough, branchy hands sprang up from the murky black waters below and started grabbing at her, clawing through her jeans and her dragon leather jacket, grabbing hold of her wrists and her legs, dragging her down into the muck. She couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe! There was a crushing pressure around her ribs like they might collapse under the weight of dead logs and this soupy filth of the earth.
*** July 22nd 1992
She always awoke in a cold sweat, vision distorted from sleep as her eyes forced themselves open, her whole body already up and staggering ungracefully into the jerking motion of being dragged to her feet despite having previously had no conscious brain to tell her legs what to do. Sometimes she woke up already lost. Standing in places she never meant to go, should have never been in the middle of the night, ill-prepared to handle the freezing cold. Her body had a second mind, one that could claim the wheel right out of her hands and take over, leaving her locked away inside her own head like a mental prison while it went about doing anything in its power to claim it was helping. Even though it always dissolved into chaos.
Tonight was no different, save for the hands that held her up. Lithia had already stood trial for a fire in the woods and waking up in Azkaban was like waking up from one nightmare, only to find herself right in the middle of another. Bombarded with the miserable spiraling reality of her current state, and her resulting surroundings… This was no place for living people to carry out the extent of their lives. Killing them would have been more humane. At least they could go out still grasping their own sense of self.
“Device.” She heard the echoing boom of a commanding voice through the barred window of her cell door. “Your transportation is ready. You’ll be turned over to the minister, directly.” -She heard the guard coming through but her eyes were filled with a haze, and the wizards standing over her didn’t bother waiting for a response before she was plucked off her unstable feet and dragged out of that cell with her wrists clapped in irons. She vaguely recalled mumbling something to the tune of What? No execution? Almost in a tone of disappointment. -To which there was almost certainly a snarky reply… She was too far gone to fully catch it, but she thought she heard it spoken to the tune of Yankee Doodle Dandy. The sarcasm did not go fully unappreciated.
Some hours later, they were at the ministry, and she’d been shackled to a chair in the corner of Fudge’s office. There was a discussion going on over her head, between the minister and her partner who was, as per usual, incredibly late to the scene, and using every big word in his vocabulary now, to try and spin a proper line of absolute bullshit to talk his way out of harsher consequences for what was inevitably ruled out as a massive misunderstanding. The Ministry, by now, was fully aware of the newest form of dangers going down in those forbidden woods nestled about the outer confines of their precious school, but the situation had been brutal, to say the least.
“We’ve been on this case for YEARS. The trail starts all the way out in Canada but it runs up through the Appalachian mountains in America and then it runs cold. If your aurors were so good at doing their jobs, maybe the crime scene would’a been a little bit less on fire by the time you reached her. You should be on your goddamn knees telling her thank you instead of all this bullshit. And what do you mean you’re releasing her into the custody of somebody else?! Who the FUCK is Dumbledore?! I can assure you, that won’t be necessary. She’ll be of sounder mind later. She just needs to rest. You’ll be fine releasing her to me. You can contact MACUSA again if you need extra reassurance! I’m sure they’ll be happy to communicate the severity of this case to you.”
“All in due time, Mr. Pulsifer, I assure you,” Fudge replied in his sternest tone, giving Lou a dry stare to match. “His name is Albus Dumbledore, and he is the headmaster of that school you and your partner nearly burnt down during your illegal escapades in the forbidden forest. I assume you understand that if that’s where the danger lies, it’s only best to turn the pair of you over to them for extra security… Until I hear from the head of your department, I would like to be certain that the pair of you won’t be starting any more fires in places that needn’t be burned. What better place for you than the center of your crime scene, anyway, hm? I beg to differ, Mr. Pulsifer. I think it is you who should be thanking me.”
There was no way that Lou could have known it at the moment, but this was Fudge attempting to dodge a bullet. There was no kind way of seeing either one of them in this state, especially not the woman. She was rough around the edges, dark rings circling her eyes but a good bit of that could have been filth from the cell she’d been sleeping in. Or perhaps smeared mascara and soot from the fire… Her jacket and hair still smelled a bit like burning timber but there was something metallic about it. Like blood. Which made Fudge viscerally uncomfortable just from the look of her.
The man, albeit in a much cleaner state than the woman, was just plain unpleasant to boot. He was skinny and impolite, and a good deal shorter than most full-gown men, his face was pale and his skin was thin around it, giving him a gaunt appearance, and Fudge was almost certain he’d spotted pointed tips on the tops of his ears, and his teeth were crooked and a tad sharper-looking than normal teeth. If he didn’t know any better, he might have accused the man of being half-goblin. The bastard was almost as crude in the face as he was in vocabulary.
***
– That night...
It was already growing late and Dumbledore’s office had been mostly quiet. Midsummer meant the castle halls were vacant of students and relatively easy to navigate, especially in the company of one’s own thoughts. But the castle’s peace had been interrupted in the weekend prior with a dramatic scare that reached its grounds but luckily, somehow managed to avoid any word from the press. The ministry was doing its absolute best to cover up any news of a criminal trial. But Fudge seemed all too happy to offer up the faces allegedly responsible for the disaster in exchange for a place to house them until further notice.
The Headmaster knew very little of the woman in the case file sitting on the desk in front of him. There wasn’t much to be read about her from a few measly slips of paper in this manila envelope, alone. A picture of her face, scorched and smeared black from the fires, weakly holding up her head with her wrists cuffed, propped up between a pair of aurors from the ministry… The picture itself was enchanted to move, but that woman looked dead on her feet. The whole staff knew about the fires, it was impossible to miss when it all went down, but even the names of those guilty of the crime had been a mystery until just now.
He couldn’t help but let his mind drift to Sirius Black as he sat there, looking it over in silence. Though she looked a great deal more somber in her mug shots than he did. Snape wasn’t going to be happy at all with this sudden turn of events. Dumbledore had only just now sent off a message, summoning the potions master to his office. They had a convict to pick up from the village.
Just as he finished this thought, there was a knock at the door, followed by it opening to Snape on the other side. “Headmaster, you called for me?”
“I’m afraid I have some news, Severus. I’ve just heard about our arsonist from the woods.” As he said this, a withered hand drifted across the desk, pushing the file towards Snape who was now idling at the other side.
Snape picked up the file with the deep lines of a frown etched into his features, making him look a little more aged than what was natural as he stared at the moving image of her face momentarily, before flipping open the folder to read the condensed information on the few pages inside. “Anathema Device,” he read out loud, turning his black eyes to stare at Dumbledore from over the edge of the folder. “-And they’ve caught her, I assume?”
“Indeed. And now I need for you to go and fetch her from the village, while I round up the rest of the staff for this same meeting. I’ve communicated briefly with Fudge by letter, and it’s been made clear to me that she is actually working with the Ministry on a case that involves that fire. Or rather, the cause for that fire.”
“The cause, sir?”
“I will have to explain the details to you at length at a later time, Severus. For now, I need you to go to the village, and do as you were asked.”
The tall man hovered there in place for a long stretch, visibly contemplating whether or not he should argue for the details now, or simply go.
“-Severus…”
“Yes, Headmaster… Of course.”
“I’ll be meeting with the others to figure out a plan for Miss Device to join our staff for the school year. Apparently, she and her partner are to be working close to the castle for security reasons. As if we haven’t already got enough on our plates.”
Severus Snape was already a pale man, but at that moment, his face went slightly paler, giving him the look of a ghost, or more accurately, someone who may have just seen one for the first time. A million confusing thoughts were suddenly running through his head. Was the old man finally off his rocker? Were the chickens coming home to roost? What on earth did this school need with security precautions that right up front seemed so utterly unhinged?
Dumbledore could see through the emotionless mask on Snape’s face to the slew of questions forming in his mind and he simply lifted a hand as if to silence what he had yet to even ask. “I assure you, I will explain in due time.”
Snape said nothing, the steeled frown still set in place as he lowered the folder back down to the desk and turned away to leave. So many questions left unanswered.
***
“I don’t fuckin’ like this, Illy. It feels like we’re giving up too much control, it’s bullshit. Why’s it gotta be releasing you into somebody’s custody?”
“Because we haven’t fully proven to them that we work for MACUSA yet. -And stop calling me Illy, it’s Ana now.”
“Right. Anathema Device.”
“And you’re Newton Pulsifer.”
The pair of them were holed up in a room at the three broomsticks. Muffling charm on the front door to keep the auror standing guard outside from hearing what they were saying.
“I fucking hate it, why Neil Gaimon characters?” Bitched Lou from the foot of the bed, his back was turned to Lithia, narrow shoulders hunched slightly as he unscrewed the cap of a metal flask and tipped it up for a heavy swig of whatever spicy cheap thing he had it loaded with.
“Because most of the people around here are purebloods, and they’re… Yanno… English.” Lithia shrugged, dipping down to pull on and lace up her boots from where she sat at the other side of the bed, perched at the edge with her hair still dripping wet from a shower, colored a nice deep auburn red now, in place of its normal white with black tips. The black tips were still there, giving the whole look an unnatural but pretty coloring that just looked like calico blotches right now, all wadded up in a messy bun hanging loosely to the nape of her neck.
“Oh, right. Purists. Gross. You’d think by now, they’d have realized that shit doesn’t work. The muggles already tried it with the nazis. Didn’t work out so great for them, either…” Lou shook his head, looking somber for just a moment, and then, “-Still though. Why book characters? Why Neil Gaiman, specifically?” Asking, as if he couldn’t draw up a real conclusion for it.
“Because Fiver and Hazel wouldn’t have cut it. We needed names that sounded like totally normal witch and wizard names and nobody else is gonna figure out that they came from muggle storybooks… -And because I like Gaiman.” She finished lacing up her boots as she explained, slowly sitting up but her head jerked at the sound of a knock on the door.
“Anathema and Newton sound like totally normal names to you? -Anathema... Kinda makes it sound like your parents hated you.” Lou quipped, raising an eyebrow.
“Shut up. -You got everything?” Lithia asked, turning her eyes to meet Lou’s just a half-beat later. He nodded, shoving his flask into his pocket and standing up from the bed. Lithia joined him a moment later when the auror outside began to yell through the door.
Due to the muffling charm, it was hard to understand what he was trying to say, but Lou was already up at the door, flaring his nostrils and sucking in air like he could smell their feet from underneath the crack in the door. “I smell a cuck.”
“Gross. I know you were trying to use that phrase generically, but like… Don’t say that in reference to you and I being in the same room with one bed, ever again.” Lithia sneered, waving a hand and lifting the charm off the door. Lou snickered and pulled the door open, screwing up his face to look angry and impatient.
Standing outside was the auror holding up the guard post, and an unfamiliar face that either one of them could have only guessed came from the school they were expected to relocate to.
“About goddamned time,” Lou snapped, narrowing his eyes up at the much taller, paler man in the hallway, all dressed in black so that he might have melted into the shadows if there hadn’t been ample lighting.
Severus Snape glowered openly down at Lou, in particular. The auror between them simply stared, impatiently.
“She’s all yours, Sir.” The auror finally said, looking from Lou to Snape with his eyebrows raised. As he turned and headed down the hallway, making his way to the stairs, he could have sworn he heard the taller one mutter She’s a beaut -in a tone of quiet but adequately seething sarcasm. “-I meant the woman!”
And then he was gone.
Soon enough, Lithia was lingering in the doorway, also quite a bit taller than Lou, but the pair of them were now staring silently back at Snape, both wearing poker faces of different sorts. Lou’s was steely and irritated. Lithia was almost unreadable, but there was something positively cutting in her pale eyes.
“Well if the two of you wouldn’t mind, I am to accompany you back to Hogwarts Castle. And I haven’t got all night,” Snape finally snapped without so much as to introduce himself first. He raised a hand, motioning down the hallway with a long arm draped in robes that Lithia immediately thought looked like a bat wing, in hopes that this might rush them but the pair took their time in meandering out and walking single file down the hallway towards the stairs leading out the front door of the pub. Snape could have sworn he saw the short one literally dragging his feet!
The walk back to the castle was long, but it only seemed to take that much longer, the more Snape began to show his irritation. He had little patience for interruptions, and this was turning out to take up the majority of his evening. By the time he actually managed to herd them up to Dumbledore’s office, it was into a room full of staff who were very obviously mid-meeting on the matter at hand, and Snape was finally glad to get this out of the way so that he could wash his hands of it for the night.
“Ah, Severus. Welcome back. These are Anathema Device and Newton Pulsifer, if I understand correctly?” Announced Dumbledore to the room when he noticed the others finally arriving.
To either side of his desk stood Minerva McGonagall, and Filius Flitwick who were now both turning their heads to regard the others, silenced from whatever discussion they were previously having. Lithia eyed them all for a moment, slowly taking a step forward and sliding her gloved hands into the pockets of her dragon leather jacket.
“That’s correct, sir. From my understanding, the Ministry hopes that we can serve you, in ensuring your staff and this castle are fully equipped to… Defend against potential new threats that seemed to have resurfaced in the woods beyond these grounds.” She paused again just to survey the room, trying to gain a bit of a reading on things but it was merely a beat or two before she continued. “-And as I understand it, Fudge meant for us to play some role in securing the grounds. I assume night patrols and the like. If you would prefer, my partner, Mr. Pulsifer, and I can start right away in familiarizing ourselves with the outside territory and get back to you on any specific ch-”
“As I understand it, Ms. Device,” Dumbledore suddenly interrupted, “ the Minister has the authority to send his men to our castle, and even to infiltrate the staff, but as this school’s Headmaster, I find it more appropriate that I myself, and the other members of this staff, find you the right slot to fill if you are to function with the rest of us. Is that clear?”
His eyes were uncharacteristically hard, boring holes into Lithia from across his desk, his half-moon spectacles doing nothing to shield her from the daggers in his gaze. Lithia simply went quiet at that point, pressing black-painted lips together in a long line across her mouth and unconsciously signifying to Dumbledore that he was not at risk of being interrupted by her. He seemed pleased with this result, and continued on, glancing down at the open folder still lying on the desk in front of him.
“In my opinion, I believe it would be best for Ms. Device to play the role of another Professor, so as not to alert the students to the details of this case that she and her partner are currently working with,” said McGonagall, with her eyes on Lithia, but her words were directed to Dumbledore. “I believe that is a wiser choice than to simply hire them on as security guards, skulking about the halls after hours. They might frighten the children. What would we do if the students got the wrong idea and decided to write home about it?”
“The wiser choice, indeed, Minerva,” said Dumbledore, clasping thin hands together over the desk. “And since you’re already working for the ministry, it would seem you already possess a good deal of the qualifications it would take to find a teaching position here. Unfortunately, our post for the Defense Against the Dark Arts has already been filled for this year. So we’ll be forced to come up with a new position for Ms. Device and Mr. Pulsifer to fill.”
At that point, Lithia finally spoke up. “What lessons do you already teach here? All the basics?”
Dumbledore’s resulting stare at this was rather deadpan.
“-Right. Well. If this place is anything like Ilvermorney, I’m gonna assume the testing is all about making it into an entry-level Ministry position, and that’s the best of the best, supposedly. But what about non-authoritarian trades like healer work? -How many medi-wizards does this place churn out in a year? -I could offer a healer course that tests all the basic skills and challenges the students on a realistic level that they won’t normally get from just passing basic classes.”
The ice-laden dislike seemed to fade from Dumbledore’s clouded eyes, but that look still lingered on the cusp of skepticism. McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick seemed a little non-plussed at the underhanded belittling implied by Lithia’s statement, and though she hadn’t noticed it, Lou was standing behind her with the smuggest little mug he could possibly pull. Lithia, on the other hand, had spoken sincerely.
“Alright, Ms. Device. A Healer Course. We may try for that, but I want to see your lesson plans for the school year before it begins so that I can have the opportunity to deem whether or not your ideas are appropriate for our students.” Dumbledore said, finally. “Am I to assume that Mr. Pulsifer will serve as your medical dummy?”
“Of course,” Lithia replied, nodding. “I assure you, Mr. Pulsifer will make a fine medical cadaver.”
“And as for your ideas to secure the grounds… Perhaps you’re not entirely wrong. I suppose this place could use a bit of modernizing. Some of our triggers and traps are bound to be rusted by now. But as well as your lesson plans, I want a full report that comes to me before you take any steps to correct or alter even a singular blade of grass on these grounds. Am I understood?”
“Of course, Sir. Not a single step will be taken without your approval, first.”
“Good.” And then his penetrative gaze shifted upon the tallest of the teachers. “Professor Snape will be directly in charge of overseeing things on that end, and Professor McGonagall will be available to approve any changes in your lessons if I am not first available for comment. Is that also clear, Ms. Device?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Alright then. Professor Snape, I would like for you to take these two with you, back down to the dungeons. I feel they might be most comfortable teaching in an empty classroom down there where they can more easily work beside you. Unfortunately, we haven’t had any time to accommodate for more than one new addition to the staff, this year. You’ll have to clear out whatever clutter’s been left behind on your own, but feel free to do what you will with the offered space. I’m afraid you’ll have to share the quarters, though.”
As Dumbledore offered some of the free real estate in the dungeon, Snape’s face turned all the more sour, glowering at the back of Lithia’s head so that she could almost feel his black eyes turning the angry laser beams on her scalp. It was a little intense in here, the moment she managed to ease the mind of one man, the other started to boil over like a rowdy potion. He said nothing in response, keeping his eyes glued to the back of her head and merely nodding at Dumbledore to acknowledge that he understood his orders.
They left Dumbledore’s office, finally, after several more minutes of discussion, throwing around accusations and misinformation from both directions. There was poking and prodding, and nobody left in a happy mood that night but they all had taken a good opportunity to figure out where everyone stood on that thin line marking who was in charge of what between the Ministry and Hogwarts. It wasn’t a long conversation, but it had been a productive one. Nearly an hour had gone by between the beginning of that argument and the end of the night when Snape was finally bringing the two outsiders down into his territory, down into the dungeon where he could keep an eye on them in the deep dank darkness.
The classroom was small and a little moldy, but nothing a little bit of magic and a lot of elbow grease couldn’t fix. He left them there after explaining where his classroom could be found and warning them not to bother him there unless it was absolutely necessary. That wasn’t going to be a problem Lithia thought, nearly out loud, or so it seemed when Snape turned to give her an inquiring side-eye out of nowhere. She was pretty sure she hadn’t said anything out loud, but with that look, she had to question it mentally.
His gaze was nearly as invasive as hers, and that was unnerving when Lithia didn’t have all the details memorized about who was who from the mission dossier. They’d have to pull that up once they were out of sight.
“Right. Well. It needs a little bit of love. But I’m sure we’ll get it figured out. Thank you very much, Professor Snape. I imagine we’ll be seeing a lot of each other now.”
The classroom door slammed shut with Snape finally on the other side, his dark eyes wide and filled with anger at the rude departing words from Lou, who seemed nothing short of ecstatic to be rid of him. He turned and practically charged off into the corridor, leaving them to sort things out on their own for the night.
Once they were alone, Lithia and Lou were free to explore or ignore that dingy classroom as they pleased. However, Lithia found that ignoring it for the moment was more to her liking. She found the twisting stairway that led up into an office, and on the other side of that, a door leading into a set of private quarters. She found the doornail, and reached down into the collar of her shirt, pulling out a St. Christopher medallion, and pulled the chain over her head to hang it on the front of the door.
“Camp’s all set!” Lithia called out from the office to Lou, who was still exploring the dusty old bookshelves in the back of the classroom.
“Cool. You wanna go start a pot of coffee?” He called back to her. “Be there in a sec.”
Lithia rolled her eyes, pushing open the door and stepping into what was no longer those sad little teacher’s quarters in the moldy wet dungeon. Sunlight spilled into a well-lit hallway full of smiling people in black and white, moving freely about within their photo frames.