Moonstruck | A Remus Lupin Love Story

Chapter 30: Mistakes

Esmeray wiped the blood away from her nose. Remus stared, gaping at the spot she had just wiped.

'We have to head back,' he said calmy, while his eyes grew frantic.

'What! No, we can't, we haven't even-' Esmeray started.

'Esmeray, I am not allowing you to get hurt, we need to leave now,' Remus exasperated. Esmeray's entire body ceased up in frustration. There was no way she was leaving until she had completed the mission. They were so close now, and she refused to return as a failure. This was her one shot to prove herself, not only to the others, but to herself. As she sat their pouting and squinting, Remus was getting ready to apparate. But just as he was about to reach out and grab Esmeray, Esmeray had rolled off of the roof in a split second and was now running across the wet cobblestone path towards the manor. She had to find a way inside somehow, it was the only way she could attempt to access Voldemort's thoughts. She slunk against the walls of the house, becoming the night's shadow, as she searched for a way in. After trying a few windows, as well as an old sunken door, Esmeray was growing desperate. As such, she started to climb up a bit of old rusted metal gate that was leaning against one of the many outside corridors that led into the house. The rain was still pouring viciously, making her climb extremely difficult, but eventually she caught sight of a small window hole on top of one the slanted rooftops. Higher and higher she climbed with only one thing driving her; I must complete the mission. It was her mantra, her prayer, her truth. The rain pelted harder, almost as if it was actually trying to stop her from entering, but not even the ferocious storm could stop Esmeray's desire. Eventually, her fingertips caught the windows ledge, and she pulled herself up with all of her might. As she peered in, she was met with a vast space that seemed to be used as a library of sorts. There was a giant desk to one side, and the walls were clambered with books, materials and other odd artefacts. The room was also dark and empty, just what Esmeray needed. She gave the window a little nudge. Locked. Shoving her elbow onto the ledge to help hold her weight, Esmeray held her hand to where the latch was and whispered, 

'Alohomora,' and a click sounded. As it did, the window opened up abruptly, causing Esmeray to fall onto the dusty floor with a rather large THUD. Her eyes flew open in fear and she held her breath, praying that no one had heard her. Esmeray couldn't hear anything else apart from her own heart pounding in her ears. And then from the depths of the manor, she just caught a gruff voice state, 

'I'll go check it out,' before a rumble of heavy footsteps sounded up the stairs. Esmeray froze in her puddle in the darkness. The footsteps got louder. She only had seconds before she was discovered. She was frozen to the spot. He was almost there. And then, another loud thud sounded from somewhere else, and the man's footsteps halted for a moment, and then they began to faint away, until Esmeray couldn't hear them anymore. She let out a huge gail of air she had been clutching in her lungs as she slowly rose, careful not to make any more noise.  She had to get down to the meeting now before he came back, but whatever distracted him, she was thankful for it. She made her way through the house, down stairs and through large corridors, doing her best to remain hidden and silent. It wasn't too hard, considering that the entire household felt deserted. It was chilling. Eventually, she found the sound of a raspy and breathy voice that seemed to invade the air. Voldemort. She followed it to a set of large, blackened doors. She could practically feel his cold and venomous power oozing through it. It made her heart shiver in her chest, and her spine tingle. It was all kinds of wrong. Though she was hesitant to continue, she knew she had to, she had to get closer still, to Voldemort. She would only have one shot; she didn't want to mess this up. Esmeray then noticed another door a bit further down the hallway and decided to investigate. As she entered cautiously, she was met with an empty kitchen. There were pots and pans scattered about, mixed amongst dirty dishes and used chopping boards, as if everybody had simply disappeared abruptly. She ventured deeper, and at the very end of the room, a small light emitted from an open archway. As she creeped closer, she could her voices grow louder. That must be the entry way into the dining room she thought. She continued to slowly creep towards it, trying to get as close as possible to the dark lord himself. She was barely at the edge of the archway when she noticed a silver food cart was parked in front of the archway, begging for her to hide behind it. In a swift motion, she scampered behind it, crouching on the ground, hiding from view of the countless death eaters that filled the room. She was so close now. She didn't care what happened to her afterwards, just so long as she could discover Voldemort's plans and get them to the Order, she would be satisfied. With a bit of courage and determination, Esmeray peered her forget-me-not eye out from the space between the archway and the cart, and stared directly at the man she hated most in the world. Voldemort. Her father. He sat at the head of the table, speaking to his followers who sat like squirming worms who had shriveled into their seats. His pale and veiny head drew her focus, and she latched onto his serpent eyes. OK, this was it. Get the information. Get out. She took in a shallow and shaky breath, let it go, focused her eyes on the dark lord one last time and then closed her eyes. She drew upon her magic, warm and light. It radiated up within her before she reached it out towards the dark energy that loomed at the other end of the space. She focused on her breathing. She had to remain in control. She urged it closer and closer, until she could feel the slimy chill bounce off of Voldemort. With one more steadying breath, she directed her magic to pierce through his dark orb of energy and venture inside. As soon as she did, an icy shock rattled through her as her mind was jammed with a series of ghastly and horrible images. Of death. Of war. Of darkness. It overcame her mind and body. She lost the string to her power. She tried to scramble for it, to gain back control, but she was falling in nothingness. Her head spun with these images, all while a slithering voice cycled around her brain. She couldn't make sense of anything. She felt like she was going to combust. And then as quickly as she had entered Voldemort's mind, she was thrust out once again. The surge of power thrust her to the floor. As she quickly gained her bearings, she heard the screech of a chair jolting back and a breathy voice exclaim,