Author's Notes – Hello and welcome back after a long absence. I've been suffering from the worst kind of writer's block, the kind where you know exactly what you want to say but every time you sit down to type it out, the words just don't come, and the ones that do don't sound right. But I've finally got past that and this is the result. This is the third instalment in the Hogwarts Chronicles and if you've made it this far I probably don't need to explain what's happened so far. If you've stumbled across me by accident, then just follow the link to my Author's Page and you'll find the first two books already posted.
Chapter One
Summer Holidays
It was late, darkness pressed against the windows of Malfoy Manor through which bright lights shone. The drawing room in particular held many lit candles so as to illuminate this, most important, of meetings. Around twenty people sat around the long polished table, each with a goblet of in front of him or her – though there were only a few women present. Among them was Narcissa Malfoy. She sat with her back rigid in her chair beside her husband, and her son. Draco was clearly trying to appear cool and collected, but Narcissa could see his hand was clenched tightly under the table.
"You…lost her," said a cold, high voice at the head of the table. Most of the Death Eaters looked pointedly down at their goblets, all except Crabbe, who squirmed in his chair under his master's frightening gaze.
"My lord," he began but Voldemort silenced him with a look. The Dark Lord was fingering the stem of his goblet and shaking his head slightly.
"After weeks of searching, Alaw Jones finally emerges from her hiding place, and you manage to lose her?"
"She must have left the country!" Crabbe said desperately. "We tracked her and three of her friends from London to Dover, but they vanished!"
"You were watching the ferry I trust?" Voldemort asked sharply and Crabbe nodded.
"Yes my Lord, constantly, but they never boarded. They must have left some other way, but we don't know how."
Voldemort tapped his finger on the table irritably. They had been unable to find Alaw Jones' home address because the Ministry records had been tampered with, Dumbledore's doing no doubt. Though Voldemort was fairly certain the Jones family still lived in the same area they had twenty years ago, Snape had informed him that their house had been placed under strong blood-wards by Dumbledore, and that their village was under constant surveillance by the Order of the Phoenix. Which begged the question…
"Severus, was this move planned by the Order?"
All eyes now turned to Snape, who sat to Voldemort's left, across the table from Lucius. Snape's face was predictably difficult to read as he answered.
"The Order is as baffled as we are my lord. It would appear that Miss Jones has chosen to run away, slipping past her guard. Black has received a postcard from her stating that she and her friends are safe and that they will be back in a few weeks. Beyond that, the Order has no more information."
There was silence as Voldemort lowered his eyes to his goblet again and continued to tap the stem. He found himself quite impressed with Alaw's success. Not only had she evaded him, but Dumbledore too. He had expected the headmaster to recruit Jones and her friends into the Order of the Phoenix at once, but this midnight flight suggested that all was not well between the two of them. He made a mental note to ask Severus about it after the meeting. But why? Why had they gone abroad? Were the children planning something on their own, or was it simply to annoy the Order?
"Well, it makes no difference to our long-term plans," Voldemort concluded after a while. The atmosphere around the table calmed somewhat, most notable in Crabbe who was looking immensely relieved that his blunder would go unpunished. "We must focus our efforts on recruiting new members to the cause. Macnair should have reached the Urals by now, I expect to hear from him soon. The Giants will make a useful addition to our forces. And Greyback has been located near Upper Flagley, Avery can contact him."
Avery didn't look thrilled at this order but he bowed his head in acknowledgement. Normally, Voldemort would have preferred to keep the barrister close to the Ministry in order to gather information but Avery had somehow managed to get himself suspended from the Wizengamot a few months ago, something to do with accusations of insider trading. There would be a hearing about it soon though it was likely Avery would only be slapped with a fine rather than spending time in Azkaban. It was clear that Voldemort's Death Eaters had grown sloppy in his absence.
The Dark Lord turned his gaze to the youngest member of the gathering. Draco was gazing fixedly at the table in front of him, sitting poker straight in his chair. It was such a shame, the boy was nothing like Lucius. He put up a good front but it was clear that great men bred lesser sons. Ah well, there were plenty of other promising young men to recruit. Several of his Death Eaters had children who attended Hogwarts and Voldemort was keen to have a base at the school.
"Very well, that concludes most of our business tonight. The time has come to welcome our newest member. Draco, step over here."
As Voldemort and his Death Eaters rose from their seats, Narcissa reached to squeeze her son's hand tightly under the table. Draco's jaw was set and he was having a hard time keeping the look of terror off his face. He walked over to the circle of waiting Death Eaters like a man on his way to the gallows. Lucius went with him as his sponsor, whilst Narcissa hung back, not being a true Death Eater, she was not permitted to take part in the ceremony. She had been most reluctant to allow this, but Lucius had insisted. They needed to show that the whole family was loyal to the cause and after all, he had been eighteen when he joined the Death Eaters. What Draco thought of it was unclear, but he understood that he had no choice in the matter.
On the pretext of patting him encouragingly on the shoulder, Lucius pushed his son firmly towards his new master. Voldemort tapped his wand on the palm of his hand and gave Draco a searching look. Draco met his gaze for the first time that night and squared his shoulders, trying to stand tall.
"So," Voldemort began softly. "Here we are. You understand what you are doing today Draco? You are joined a brotherhood, a proud resistance against the tide of muggle oppression. Be sure that you are willing to commit because there will be no turning back, not once you have taken the mark and the oath."
Draco found himself wondering what Alaw would make of all this seriousness. She would call it cultish and pretentious no doubt. But no, he mustn't think about her now. They would not, could not, be friends anymore. Draco would have to stay as far away from her as possible for her own sake as well as his own. This was the only way to protect the family. Failure to appear loyal would surely mean death.
"I am ready," Draco said in as firm a voice as he could muster, shoving Alaw from his mind. A smile curled Voldemort's lip.
"Very well, hold out your arm and we will begin."
His father had warned him that receiving the mark would hurt. The process was over in two minutes, and in all that time, Draco was astonished that he managed not to scream.
OoOoO
A warm, gentle breeze blew across the surface of the lake, making the water ripple and the leaves of the willow trees lining the shore to wave lazily. Alaw was feeling immensely content, stretched out luxuriously in a deck chair, a pair of sunglasses shading her eyes and wearing a striped white and blue bikini. When she had sat down an hour ago the sun had been shining directly onto her and she'd been developing a nice tan, but it had since moved as evening approached and she was too lazy the drag the deckchair out of the shade. She groped one handed for her drink and took a long sip. This was her idea of heaven.
"For god's sake woman, have some decency and put some clothes on."
Alaw sat up and lifted her sunglasses to glare at Ron who had just arrived at their little patch of the campsite.
"I'll wear what I like, thank you very much," she snapped.
She and Hermione had been trying to immerse the boys in as much muggle culture as they could over the past few weeks but some things still managed to shock them, like the sight of women sunbathing topless on the beach they'd visited two days ago. Alaw had tried to explain that this was quite common on the continent, but Ron and Neville's faces had still been beetroot red for half an hour.
"What's Ron whining about now?"
Hermione's voice drifted out of the second tent she and Alaw shared. Alaw lay back down and stretched.
"He's embarrassed because he can see my stomach," she yawned. She glanced over and grinned as Hermione emerged from the tent, also clad in a bikini, though hers was red, which was the colour Ron's face went.
"Ron, calm down," Hermione scolded. "You don't see Neville getting all holier-than-thou do you?"
Neville, who was busy grilling sausages on the BBQ they'd rented from the campsite owner, threw Ron a grin. Alaw was fairly sure she knew why Neville never complained about their clothes, or why he hadn't moaned when Hermione decided to drag them around the gallery of the Louvre a few days ago. They'd been in France for a week and a half and after spending a large portion of that time in Paris, even Alaw had to admit she was all cultured out. The Louvre had been fascinating, Hermione and the boys had practically had to drag her away from the Egyptian wing, and Notre Dame had been magnificent, and the Wizarding Catacombs had been eerie, but it was a lot of history to squeeze into just a few short days.
They'd done other things too of course. They'd taken in a show at Chat Noire, which presented a muggle façade to ordinary tourists, but which in fact had an excellent wizarding lounge in the back rooms. Alaw would have liked to have rented rooms there, but that was beyond their means, so they had stayed in a muggle hostel on the outskirts of the city. And there was another reason Alaw thought it best they stay away from wizards as much as possible. They had entered the country by muggle means, driving to London in Ron's parents' Ford Anglia, and then on to Dover to fool anyone following them into thinking they'd taken the Ferry. After admiring the cliffs for an hour or two they'd carried on to Folkestone and taken the Channel Tunnel to Calais.
It had been quite an ordeal to organise the trip. Booking the Tunnel should have been easy but neither of the boys had muggle passports so they had had to wait a few weeks whilst they obtained them, mainly relying on the girls to help them with the application process. It had then been a case of persuading their parents. It had been no problem for the girls, who had been abroad with friends before, or Neville, whose grandmother had been more than happy to let him go. No, the problem had been the Weasleys. They were active members of the Order of the Phoenix and there was no way in hell they were going to let their son go abroad with Voldemort on the loose. Ron must have been determined to come on this trip, otherwise he would never have risked Mrs Weasley's wroth by stealing the car.
"The food's nearly done, but we're out of bread," said Neville, gingerly turning a kebab so that it cooked evenly.
"Ron and I will get some, and some more drinks," said Alaw at once before Hermione could offer. She was quite keen to let her and Neville spend some time alone on this holiday, now that Viktor Krum was out of the picture.
After slipping on a pair of sandals and grabbing long beach shirt to spare Ron his blushes, she dragged him off across the campsite. There were a dozen other groups pitched around the lake shore, families mainly, and a few young people like themselves. They'd already made friends with a couple of German boys who'd invited them to share a drink. Ron hadn't been too impressed by the offer and denounced the lads as creeps until Alaw pointed out the Pride sticker on the bumper of their minivan – and then explained what it meant.
"Any word from the Order?" Ron asked.
"Nope, looks like that thingamajig actually works," Alaw smirked.
The 'thingamajig' was actually an anti-tracking charm they'd obtained from the Ministry. Alaw had applied for one the moment she got back to Beddgelert for the summer and it coincidentally took about the same amount of time as a new passport to process. The charm, which came in the form of a dull little ring made of copper, ensured that no owl could locate them. This meant they would receive no post from the Order demanding that they return. Alaw had sent a post-card to Sirius from Dover to inform him that they were safe, just in case the Order jumped to the conclusion that they had been kidnapped by Voldemort. Beyond that, there had been no contact.
"Are you sure you're ok with taking all the blame?" Alaw asked for something like the tenth time that holiday.
"Yes!" Ron insisted, rolling his eyes. "Look, you seriously don't want to get on my mum's bad side. It's best to let her and dad think this was all my idea and leave it at that."
Accept, it wasn't going to be that simple. As far as Neville and Hermione knew, the Weasleys had given Ron permission to come on this trip and Dumbledore had encouraged them to go abroad. In fact, Dumbledore had expressly told Alaw to stay in Beddgelert where she would be safe and Molly and Arthur certainly would never have given Ron permission to go abroad in such a time of crisis. When they returned to the UK, Alaw was going to have to lie her arse off, and pretend she had also thought the Weasleys were ok with the whole affair. Ron would chivalrously take all the blame upon himself, for which Alaw was eternally grateful. She liked the Weasleys to think well of her after all.
There was a small queue inside the boulangerie so Alaw and Ron stood around for a few minutes, deciding which pastry they wanted whilst also discussing the next leg of their journey.
"Can we please go to the Camargue?" Ron begged as an elderly lady with skin like a rhinoceros paid for her baguette and shuffled past them out of the shop. "There's loads of wizarding stuff to do down there!"
"You mean Quidditch," Alaw corrected. "You only want to go because their team won the last Championship."
"Oh come on, we've done loads of stuff you girls wanted to do, let me and Neville have this one."
Alaw screwed up her nose and made a disgruntled noise. She was extremely reluctant to go to near other wizards. Technically, adult witches and wizards had to present themselves to the French Border Patrol and obtain a visa. However, Alaw had read the travel guides thoroughly and discovered that underage wizards who entered the country by muggle means did not need a visa, as they weren't allowed to use magic anyway. But she wasn't sure her French was good enough to allow her to explain this to a cross official if they were stopped in a wizarding town.
"I will think about it," she said to stop Ron from arguing further. The customer in front of them left and it was their turn to step up to the counter.
"Bonsoir, deux baguettes s'il vous plait. Et deux éclairs, un tart tatin, et – uh – ce."
She pointed lamely to a raspberry and cream tart whose French translation escaped her. The man behind the counter however was obviously used to fumbling tourists and bagged up their purchases without raising an eyebrow. However, once they'd paid and were leaving the shop, Alaw distinctly heard him mutter to his assistant,
"Anglais."
"Galloise!" Alaw snapped, but only loud enough for Ron to hear.
When they got back to their pitch, Alaw was pleased to see that, not only was the food ready for them on the picnic table, but also that Hermione and Neville were laughing together as some private joke. If she played her cards right, she'd have them together before the new term started. Ron rather spoiled things by plonking himself between them and attacking the pile of kebabs with gusto.
"So, Al and I have decided we should go to the Camargue next," he said to which Alaw snorted.
"Oh we did, did we?" she said scathingly, also sitting and tearing off chunks of the baguette to use has hot dog buns. "Look, I really don't want to go and sit through a Quidditch game. Why don't we go to Bordeaux and hit the clubs if you're bored of culture?"
"Actually," Neville piped up sheepishly. "I'd quite like to go to the Camargue as well. The national park has loads of rare plants and animals."
"It does seem a bit unfair to always do what we want Al, let the boys choose something for a change," said Hermione and Alaw, seeing that she was outnumbered, gave in.
She called up directions on her phone, did some quick calculations regarding timing, and made a mental note to buy some more of the good wine before they left the Dordogne. For the rest of the evening they ate and made merry with the aforementioned wine. It really was shaping up to be an enjoyable holiday, the only thing dampening the mood was the expectation of a real bollocking when they got home.
Ron had bought a pack of cards at the campsite shop the previous day and he brought them out and started shuffling them. He'd been determined to buy the cards himself, as if handling muggle money was the most exciting thing in the world. He refused to accept help from Alaw who had stood next to him with her arms folded as he attempted to count out the right amount of Euros. It had been an excruciating ten minutes.
"Exploding snap?" Ron suggested.
"Alright, but you know they don't explode, right?" said Hermione, pouring herself another glass of wine and accepting her cards from Ron.
Alaw was still trying to figure out the best route to take in the morning and only half paid attention to the game. Both she and Hermione could drive, but the Ford Anglia was insured to Weasley family and so it had been Ron who'd had to navigate his way clumsily through Calais. Once they were out of sight of the border police, Hermione had taken over, saying her nerves simply couldn't take Ron's driving anymore. This was technically illegal but Hermione was a very cautious driver so they were unlikely to be pulled over. Much less likely than Ron, who'd nearly killed the lot of them by drifting onto the wrong side of the road. Alaw had grabbed the wheel just in time to save them.
Wine had a tendency to make her sleepy so not long after the sun dipped below the horizon, Alaw bid the others goodnight and ducked into the tent. The Jones parents had quite a collection of camping gear in the garage so Alaw had borrowed two of the larger tents for this trip. It was much more comfortable than what she was used to, having the car meant they could carry proper camp beds with them and she had Hermione had plenty of room between them for all their stuff.
Once she was settled for the night, Alaw took out her phone again and started scrolling idly through her messages. She sent her daily text to her mother, assuring her they were still alright, and caught up quickly with some friends from secondary school. Dean Thomas was also active that evening and had sent her a funny meme which made her chuckle. She wished she could have Sirius on here, it would be a much more effective way to stay in touch, but she doubted he would quite grasp the concept of social media. And besides, where would he get a wifi signal?
OoOoO
According to her phone it was five o'clock in the morning when Alaw woke in desperate need of a wee. Grumbling under her breath, she tried to get up off the camp bed without waking Hermione. It was much colder than it had been earlier, a chill had crept into the tent so Alaw pulled on a jacket over her pyjamas and slipped her sandals onto her feet before ducking outside. All was quiet on the campsite, until Alaw swore after tripping over a guide rope. It was pitch black, the moon and stars were obscured by thick clouds and Alaw squinted up at this, shivering in the wind which blew in over the lake. It looked like it was going to rain, though the forecast had said it would be glorious sunshine all week. Perhaps it was a good thing they'd be moving on today.
Using her phone as a torch, she picked her way across the campsite, skirting around the Germans' caravan and the closed boulangerie, until she came to the communal bathrooms. Alaw fumbled for the light switch and grumbled some more as the harsh lamp overhead blinded her. She really wasn't a morning person. It wasn't until was washing her hands that Alaw began to question just how cold it really was. Her toes were numb and when she turned off the tap and stood still for a few moments, she saw that her breath was turning into vapour before her eyes. She frowned, and pulled out her phone to check the temperature, but it wouldn't respond to her thumbprint, or the power button when she tried that.
Then Alaw's heart stopped when she caught sight of the edges of the mirror, which were starting to be encrusted with ice. She had seen that happen before, and dread flooded through her.
"No, not here," she whispered. Stuffing her phone into her pocket, she hurried to the door of the bathroom and yanked it open.
Light spilled out over the grass and she peered into the night, her heart thudding madly. At first, there seemed to be no movement, but then a shadow twitched in the distance. It glided over the grass towards her and Alaw gave a squeak of horror as her worst fears were confirmed. She bolted from the bathroom block and skittered like a hare back towards the lake. She tripped over several more guide ropes as she went but she barely noticed.
"Hermione!" she cried once she was close enough. "Hermione! Wake up! Boys!"
Hermione's head poked out of the tent flap as Alaw skidded to a halt, nearly colliding with the picnic table.
"Al, wassamatter?" she asked blearily, pushing her hair out of her eyes.
"Dementor!" Alaw gasped, kneeling down and practically ripping open the boys' tent. "Get up now! There's a Dementor here! GET UP!"
There was some chaos as both Neville and Ron tried to get out of the tent at the same time and Alaw threw herself at the Ford Anglia and yanked at the door handle.
"Hermione! Where are the keys?!" she demanded.
"They're in my bag, Al, just calm down, how do you know there's a Dementor?" Hermione asked, staring at Alaw in quite a bewildered way.
"Because I saw one! Look!" Alaw shouted, pointing fearfully into the darkness.
The other three paused to look even as Alaw dove into the tent and made a desperate grab for Hermione's handbag. By the time she had found it and scrambled back outside, the other three had spotted what she had. A large, black figure, floating eerily towards them. It was close enough now that they could hear its rattling breath as it sucked all the warmth out of the air around it. Panic overtook all other emotions in Alaw's brain. The last time she had faced a Dementor she had very nearly lost her soul. Even now she could feel that creature's slimy jaws clamped around her own. She tore through the bag for the keys and then rammed them into the lock.
"Get in the car!" she cried, wrestling the door open and throwing herself into the driver's seat.
"But, what about the other people?" Neville asked.
"GET IN THE FUCKING CAR! It doesn't want them, it wants us!" Alaw screamed.
The Dementor was feet from them and the others didn't need telling twice. All three of them piled into the back seat and slammed the door shut behind them as Alaw fired up the engine. She wondered briefly what would happen if she ran the monster over but the nose of the car was facing the wrong way and she wanted to get away from it as quickly as possible. She hurriedly put the Ford Anglia in gear and put her foot down. The car shot forward, down the central driveway of the campsite and through the – mercifully – open gate.
"Neville, our wands are in the glove compartment, grab them!" said Hermione.
With some difficulty, Neville leant between the two front seats and popped open the glove compartment. It had a mild muggle repelling charm on it, placed there by Mr Weasley during his tinkering with the car, and they'd put their wands there just in case they were searched at the border. Alaw wasn't driving very carefully, she was tearing down the country lane at breakneck speed, determined to put as much distance between them and the Dementor as possible.
"What about all our stuff?" Ron asked after they'd been driving for about five minutes. Alaw spared him an angry glance in the rear-view mirror.
"Are you kidding me right now?! We can go back for it in the morning! Look, you've never had a Dementor's hands all over you, I have! And I am not letting it happened again."
This was sufficient in shutting Ron up, and the other two for that matter. After a little while, Alaw decided to slow down and drive like a sane person, but only because some of the adrenaline was wearing off.
"Where's the closest wizarding settlement?" she asked after there had been total silence for a long time.
"I don't know, there's probably wizards in Bordeaux, but that's ages away," said Hermione. She was clutching her wand tightly and kept glancing over her shoulder nervously.
Suddenly, the Ford Anglia gave a shuddering jolt and the engine began to make an unwelcome whining sound. It had made that sound before, earlier in their trip when it had broken down for a couple of hours.
"Oh not now! Not now you useless pile of shit!" Ron groaned.
He leant forward and whacked the dashboard with his wand but the car just wheezed in protest. It gave a few more sputters, before dying completely. They rolled to a halt in the middle of the lonely country lane. For a few moments all that could be heard was the four of them breathing hard. Alaw was just about to reassure the others that they had probably outrun the Dementor, when she saw her breath cloud up.
"Fuck," she whispered.
She tried to restart the engine but all it did was whine and sputter like before. Then she froze as a cloaked figure appeared in front of the car. The Dementor appeared to be looking straight at her, though of course it was impossible to tell with its hood up. Alaw had seen what was under a Dementor's hood, nothing but scabbed, dead skin and a single gasping hole where a mouth ought to be.
"Al, the doors are locked," Hermione said in an oddly hushed voice, reaching forward the grip her arm. "It can't get it."
But even as she said this, Ron gave a terrified yell as the window next to him shattered and a hand reached through to grab him. There were two of them. As the three in the back pressed against the other door, away from the snatching arm, Alaw jumped as the Dementor in front of her hit the windscreen with enough force to crack it. The second blow caved it in completely, showering her with shards of glass. Then a hand grabbed the front of her jacket and she felt herself being dragged out of the car. She could hear Ron, Neville and Hermione screaming spells but the flashes of red light from the Stunners were completely ineffectual against their attacker. Meanwhile she, Alaw, was being pressed against the bonnet of the car as the Dementor leant closer.
"Expecto Patronum!" she whispered, terror taking away her ability to shout. "Expecto Patronum!"
But only a few feeble wisps of white smoke puffed from the end of her wand and all they seemed to do was irritate the Dementor which released her in order to wave them away. Alaw had produced a proper Patronus several times since learning how to do it, but they had all been in controlled, safe, classroom environments. She tried to remember the first time she produced her guardian, back in the depths of the Hogwarts dungeons with Voldemort laughing at her and the Dementor pressing down on her. Think something happy!
"Expecto Patronum!" she screamed and bright light burst out of her wand, hitting the Dementor squarely in the chest.
Her dragon Patronus might have only been the size of a large dog, but it still made quick work of the monster. It tore the Dementor to pieces whilst its companion fled into the night. Alaw sent her Patronus after it but it flew too quickly and her dragon faded away when it strayed too far from her wand. When the light was snuffed out, Alaw slid from the car bonnet and knelt on the ground before breaking down into relieved sobs.