Summary: Voldemort came for his brother, found him instead. A code is what kept him alive: Now Voldemort has an heir.
Warning: The two V's are in this chapter: Violence and Voldemort.
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Out Went the Light
Chapter One: and Out Went the Light.
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Harry Potter sat silently in a large arm chair watching the family gathering occurring all around him. Family and friends milled around talking loudly in drunken voices as they peered critically at each other. Bottles of various drinks were scattered around the room, all with different volumes of liquid left inside them.
Harry's pale hand clasped around a glass of pumpkin juice as he stared blankly at the foolish adults that surrounded him. His mother stood a foot away from him, holding Newell's hand as they both talked loudly and freely with the surrounding group of friends.
James stood near the door accepting coats from the arriving guests. After a few words of greeting the guests would continue into the party, their coat weren't so lucky. They would be sent to the large master bedroom to lay on the king sized bed in the dark until they were needed again. And from how everyone was acting they wouldn't be need for some time.
The group around his brother broke into reckless laughter; a tall balding man elbowed a passing woman in the head as he threw his arms around wildly as he laughed. Harry's eyes locked onto Newell's for a moment, just in time to see the common mocking smirk cross his brother's face. With one black eyebrow raise Newell mouthed 'Jealous?' to his half-hour older brother.
Harry glared back for a moment before mouthing 'not of you'; however he wasn't certain if his brother would understand it. Knowing his brother, he'd think Harry was saying 'hot as poo.' Which wouldn't actually answer the question, but his brother was to busy thinking of how great he was to remember his own questions.
"Oh Lily I can't believe you are moving closer to us!" cried a voice above all the others. Which wasn't really a surprise as Mrs. Abbott was one of the loudest people Harry had ever met. "Hannah is so excited! Hell the entire neighbourhood is excited. To think the future saviour will just be three doors down from me!"
Harry wanted to gag as she said that, the future-bloody-saviour, one of his brothers many nicknames. Most news papers preferred this one because it had hyphens making it similar to you-know-who: who was the reason behind all his brothers' stupid nickname to begin with. Harry much preferred to call Hal 'the-ugly-git'. He of course only used it when he was writing, as saying it out loud would only result in his untimely death at the hands of either his parents or the British public.
"You'll have to show us all the good places to eat, Magnus!" said Lily as she smiled warmly at her friend. The group around them slowly melted away knowing this was now a private conversation, but Harry was certain many were confident they would be able to get 'the chosen one's' attention later on during the evening.
"Yes and all the best places to play," Newell added with his easy-going, innocent grin. Mrs. Abbott fell victim to it almost immediately and cooed softly as she bent down and gave him a tight hug.
"You have a charmer here Lily," she said as she finally straightening up. "You'll have to beat the ladies off him with a stick." Another bang of obnoxious laughter came from the two women, Newell laughed heartily while looking quite pleased.
A lull fell between the three of them, Lily spent the silence smiling down at her son, and making sure he was still happy to be there. Mrs. Abbott took a sip of her elf-made wine and looked appraisingly around the room.
"So different your sons are," she said thoughtfully and Harry almost groaned as he took a large sip of pumpkin juice so he wouldn't have to meet their gazes. This always happened, guests would eventually run out of things to say and resort to comparing Newell with Harry.
Silently Harry stood up knowing how this conversation would end. His brother, the prophesized savoir, would be praised while every flaw Harry ever had would be exploited. After all, the boy who never says die is second to no one, least not his pale, scrawny brother.
He side stepped the talking duo, as Newell was too busy beaming and accepting the praise to speak. He headed straight towards the stairs in hope of saving himself from the misery that this conversation would undoubtedly bring. "He seems very… antisocial," said Mrs. Abbott as Harry moved passed.
He saw his father move towards the door again, which was stationed at the foot of the stairs, as he approached. After checking the peep hole, he pulled the door open with a wide grin and greeted his old school friend Remus Lupin. Lupin smiled just as brightly as James and the two fell into a friendly man-hug.
Harry skirted around them and up the stairs, avoiding the people sitting lazily on the steps chatting and sipping various drinks. His footsteps were light on the carpeted stairs, as he reached the first floor landing he looked over the railing back down at the main floor. People were packed into the medium sized, multi-functional living room-entry hall. His "uncle" Sirius had just joined James and Remus by the door and the three were talking animatedly among themselves.
Harry sighed dejectedly; he always hated his family parties. This one was especially depressing they were having a 'last-night home' party, tomorrow they would be moving into a larger house in Cornwall. All the wards had been taken down for the evening and most of their belonging had been packed up. The only things that were left unpacked were the beds and the living room furniture.
Harry shuffled into his room, which was rather cold as he had left his window open. The cold night air blew his curtains around causing them to dance and reach out towards him. Harry closed his bedroom door softly, holding it so the wind couldn't slam it and draw attention up at him.
Boxes littered his bedroom floor waiting to be magically transported to the new house. He sat on his bed for several minutes thinking before he heard it. A loud, shrill scream sounded above all the talking, laughing and drinking.
"James, Lily!" cried Sirius familiar voice as the house fell eerily quite. "It's him, He's outside the house!" Though Sirius words were cryptic everyone seemed to understand its meaning. Chaos broke out, everyone was screaming, yelling and running. Loud cracks broke through the house as people apparated away. Harry dashed from his bed to his window and looked out onto the dark front lawn.
There stood a snake like man, staring almost amused at the front door of the house. Several people stood behind him in two rows, all wearing white skull like masks. They stood motionlessly, watching the pandemonium through the windows. Harry was almost certain they were just cut outs until the man in the center raised one long pale finger and pointed it at the door.
The masked men approached the door, wands drawn. A jolt of panic shot through Harry causing him to jumped back from the window. He rushed to his bedroom door and threw it open. "Newell hold on tight!" he heard his mother cry and with a crack he knew the pair were gone.
"That's everyone right?" yelled James from the living room; over the sound of spells hitting the door and furnishings causing them to shatter.
"I think so," yelled Sirius over the ever growing fight. "Lets go." two loud cracks fallowed and Harry knew he was alone. Harry froze for a moment before he backed away from the open door, hoping now that the death eaters had won they would just leave.
"Orders my lord?" came a smooth aristocratic voice as the house fell silent once more.
"Search the house," said a high cruel voice.
"For what: documents?" asked a gruff sounding death eater.
"That," said the horrible voice, sending shivers down Harry's spine as he stood staring at his door wide eyed, "And people."
Harry's mind whirled useless for several moments, trying to decide what to do as he stared in silent horror at the door. Finally his mind snapped to focus to scream one word at him: hide. As silently as possible he slowly moved to the floor until he was lying down. Then he slid himself under his bed pulling a few boxes closer to make a protective wall. A small crack between the boxes let him still see the door.
As Harry hid, the gruff death eater said, "People? There is no one here!"
"Yes there is," the dark lord said, his voice soft and hiss like. "I can feel their magic, find them." And with that footsteps echoed through the house. Death eaters moved around the main floor well some mounted the stairs and headed towards him.
Harry sucked in his breath and waited. He saw the door get pushed open and a cloaked figure stand in the door looking around the room. He couldn't see any of his features as he was being back lit by the hallway light. Harry watched, frozen with fear as he slowly looked around the room, finally he turned and left and Harry started to breath again.
"God how many hair potions do you need?" asked one death eater from the bathroom beside Harry's room.
"Look at this picture," said another, his voice saying the smirk Harry couldn't see. Harry knew what picture it was, it was the picture of him and Hal when they were one years old, both dressed as ducklings, the most embarrassing picture in the whole house. "The duckling-who-lived."
The two men broke off into peals of laughter until a female voice broke it. "What are you two morons doing?" she hissed at them.
"Er…" said one.
"We were…" said the other.
"Get back to work!" she hissed as she moved towards Harry's room, he froze.
"I've already looked in there!" said the first man. Harry silently stared at the door praying that they wouldn't search his room again; If there was a God Harry really needed his help right now.
"I'll look for myself," hissed the woman as she appeared in the doorway. Harry froze as he started at her silhouette in the door. Unlike the man before her she actually entered his room; she moved to his closet and opened the door, nothing but coat hangers.
She looked behind his curtains then finally moved towards his bed and his wall of boxes. Her foot inserted itself in the crack; the pointed front of the shoe gave him no comfort. With ease she slid it away and her crazed blue eyes locked onto his green ones.
"Well if it isn't the golden boy," she said mockingly.
"I'm not Newell." Said Harry angrily; his throat was so dry that his words had no volume and came out as a whisper. The woman suddenly had a wand and with a small flick his bed was suddenly gone.
"What's wrong savoir?" mocked the woman as she glared down at him, her wand pointed at the space between his eyes. "Scared?"
"I'm not Newell!" Harry repeated louder this time.
"Oh?" said the woman her voice becoming more insulting by the moment. "Then who are you?" Harry and Newell being identical twins always lead to these types of problems, but never had it been a matter of life and death before. Harry knew in this case it was probably more of a matter of painful death or more painful death.
"Harry."
"The brother?" she said condescendingly. Harry felt himself snap, he hated when people asked stupid questions like that. Before he could stop himself he hissed sarcastically at her.
"No the great-grandfather!"
"Why you little brat," she hissed bearing her yellowing teeth as her face went from hostile to murderous. She moved forward quickly, lowering her wand slightly so it jabbed into the base of his throat; he felt the tip prod his vocal cords as she added a bit more pressure behind it. "I should kill you now!" She hissed at him.
"Now, now Bella," came that high hissing voice and Harrys eye flew to the door, the red-eyed snake man stood there calmly staring at the scene in front of him. Fear grasped Harry's body and the world became slightly blurred because of it. "After all we are guests in his home."
The man slowly approached them and Harry realized he was crying. Bella didn't move the wand from his throat and Voldemort didn't ask her too. The evil wizard seemed all together uninterested in the pair of them as he turned his attention to one of Harry's small box of belongings.
His thin hands re-emerged moments later with Harry's leather bound notebook. Harry wanted to tell him not to touch it but he held his tongue knowing speaking would only: a.) get him more in trouble and b.) make the dark lord more curious at the contents. At least he can't understand it thought Harry, reassuring himself as he watched the dark lord flip through the pages. Harry thought he saw the man's lip twitch upward with amusement, but as he face was blank again seconds latter Harry doubted it.
"Tell me," hissed the man as he returned the book to the box his red eyes locking on Harry's green ones. "Has Dumbledore ever come to this house?" A memory suddenly struck Harry, it was only last summer that Dumbledore had come for a visit and sat with Harry in the kitchen eating cookies.
'My motto is to remain loyal to the ones I love, no matter the consequence.' Dumbledore had told him. 'Nothing is braver then dying to protect someone else, to protect the most important secrets.'
"No," whispered Harry weakly, he swallowed heavily and felt the wand poke further into his throat.
"Don't lie to me." Hissed Voldemort, his red eyes seemed to glow as his voice grew heated.
'You like to make eye contact,' Dumbledore had said, sounding amused. 'Sign of bravery and nerve, but you'll want to be careful. Eye contact can open your mind to invasion.'
Harry quickly dropped his eyes to his feet and whispered, "I'm not lying."
Voldemort sounded almost amused the next time he spoke, though his voice was still tight with anger. "Still willing to die for them Harry, even after they left you here?" Harry gulped but said nothing. Suddenly his notebook was dropped into his lap, his eyes shot up to see the dark lord standing above him holding his self inking quill. "Write everything you know and I might let you live."
Harry stared at the quill in front of him before, with shaking hands, reaching out to grab it. "Come Bella, we will search the rest of the house," he said as he started to walk away, his footsteps silent and his robes swirling around in his wake.
"But my Lord," Bella said slowly, respectfully. "What about the boy?"
"We'll lock the door," replied the dark lord as he swept from the room. Harry couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Bella followed Voldemort like a wild dog chasing an injured rabbit. Slamming the door behind her as she went.
Numbly, Harry reached up and messaged his throat, trying to think quickly to find a way out of this mess. He started at the door, wondering if they had locked it and if they hadn't how many death eaters stood between him and his fireplace.
His parents would have to notice him missing soon, and even if they didn't the Aurors would be coming. They wouldn't let the dark lord take over one of there own's house. Harry licked his lips; he just needed to stall for time. He picked up the notebook and flipped to a blank page, as his other hand picked up the quill.
His quill hovered above the page, could he do this? Could he give up his family secrets? His thoughts spun as he remembered his 8 years of life, they seemed so short suddenly. As he thought back he could find no truly happy memories. He had memories of birthdays and Christmases but he had always been over shadowed by Hal.
He remembered all the times he had been compared to Newell and felt his blood boil. He then thought back to Dumbledore's visit. The man was odd and a bit eccentric but he had been fairly nice to Harry during that half-hour visit.
'You need to remember all this Harry; it's up to you to protect your brother he's in constant danger.'
Harry saw his world turn red and felt anger bubble up inside him, everything was about Hal. As he sat there with his eyes narrowed he reminded himself he was in far more danger than his pampered, pompous brother. If he was suppose to defeat Voldemort, why had he fled? Why had he left his own brother to die? Why would he need Harry to protect him?
Harry sat there thinking about all the whys and how-comes until he came to his final decision and pressed the quill to the paper; he wouldn't hold anything back. However he would have to be realistic, he knew the dark lord's words meant almost nothing. He had killed far too many people for Harry to be naive enough to trust him; he would need to secure his own safety. As he started down at the notebook he remembered his code.
His code was not a known code, so it couldn't be cracked magically, only with his help could it be decoded. He sighed as he went back over his code, praising himself for working so long and hard on it. However he had never tested it against someone truly cunning, he had only ever used it to insult Newell. His quilled hand flew across the page writing the code as neatly as possible, soon all the information he could think of covered the page and Harry closed the book and laid the quill down beside him.
He pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on the top of them to protect his throat. He wondered if he should feel dirty or guilty for what he had just done, but he couldn't. With his new bitter out look he looked over a few more memories only growing angrier as he did. If he survived this he swore to himself he'd prove who the better twin was.
He could hear talking, more like yelling, from the floor below and he knew some stupid death eater had tripped on of the security spell Mad-eye had placed on the house for the seven unprotected hours during the move. His father had told mad-eye bitterly that he was being paranoid; it was Harry's only comfort that James had been proved wrong in such a public setting.
For several minutes Harry sat in silence listening to the yelling and struggle from downstairs wondering which gruesome jinx had been tripped. Suddenly the door flew open and Bellatrix came storming in, flanked by a blood cover death eater who looked rather green. He slumped in after her and leaned almost drunkenly against the door frame.
"You," Bella hiss as she approached him furiously her wand pointed directly at his left eye. "You knew that would happen! You were trying to kill me, to kill the Dark Lord!" She was wild, Harry's eye flew open and he scooted as far back as he could, but that was less than three inches.
"Blood everywhere," Gasped the man from the door as he lay pathetically against the doorframe. The Dark Lord, who appeared in the door seconds later, was spotless and obviously amused as he stepped over the faint man in the doorway.
"Tell me: why is your pantry so well protected?" his voice remained cold though his face was amused.
"We really like cereal." Harry stated as his eyes quickly flew away from the Dark Lord's face to Bella's. As he gazed up at her he was reminded of an angry bull targeting the waving cape of a matador.
"Really? It wouldn't be those secret document in there disguised as a box of rice?" asked the Dark Lord, turning the sickly man over by kicking him sharply in the side with his boot. Without a pause or a second of thought a green light shot from his wand into the man's body. Harry gave a cry of horror causing Bella to laugh maniacally and Voldemort to smirk. "It's so hard to find good help these days."
"If that's how you treat the ones who try I'm not exactly surprised." Harry said before he could stop himself. He gave a small gasp before literally smacking his hand over his mouth now completely certain he was dead. Bella reaction agreed with his thoughts as she growled down at him but the Dark Lord seemed quite amused with the response.
"The book Bella," he said simply holding out his hand. Bella bent down to grab the book. In doing so she purposefully shoved her face an inch away from Harry's. She sneered threatening at him, showing off her sharp, yellowed teeth.
Harry felt a sudden burst of anger as she tried to scare him, his hand dropped from his mouth as he put on his best scowl. "Careful it might freeze that way." He stated bitterly. She pulled back suddenly as if her face had been burnt and stood glaring down at him. With sudden agility she smacked him hard across the face with his own diary. He gasped in pain as he brought his fingers up to his now numb cheek.
Bella swaggered back towards the Dark Lord her hand outstretched. He took the book from her hand before Bella had come to a complete stop in front of him. With what seemed like mild interest he flipped through the book until he stopped on Harry's newly written page.
He seemed unaffected by what Harry had done, almost like he expected it. Bella on the other hand was fuming. She bolted towards him and within seconds had her fingers clamped tightly around his throat. He tried his best to struggle away from her grasp but it was only making his air loss worse and Bella was growing more enraged.
With one hand she lifted him off the ground now making it impossible for Harry to breath. His vision began to blur and blacked around the edges as he hung there, his toes barely able to skim the ground. "You little worm," Bella hissed as his world began to drift away. Then suddenly Bella threw him backwards towards the wall.
His body hit the wall but his head continued back until it crashed into his window. As he fell to the floor broken glass rained down as the curtains tangled around his body and thus came crashing to the floor with him. He lay motionless on the floor for several minutes, eyes half closed blindly staring at the ceiling breathing heavily as he tried to reclaim the lost air.
Around him a small halo of blood began to form from the gashes that covered the back of his head. In his mad rush to breath he began to cough, and with each cough blood flew from his mouth and landed on parts of his face, shirt and the floor around him. His head hurt, his throat hurt, everything seemed to hurt. He rolled onto his front trying to protect his vitals as the room spun around him.
"Careful Bella," the Dark Lord warned lightly. "I want to bring back the boy alive." Harry turned his head slightly to look at the Dark Lord, who seemed transfixed by the page in front of him. With a tired sigh he ripped the note and several pages around it from the notebook. The blank pages were burnt, and the ash dropped on the ground before the Dark Lord strolled from the room.
"Pity," said Bella in a sharp hiss once voldemort was gone. "I would have loved to kill you... How it would have destroyed your brother." She walked slowly towards Harry as she spoke in a low throaty tone. "I mean how would an eight year old boy respond to seeing his little brothers mangled corpse?"
"Older" Harry gurgled into the carpet. He watched numbly as the bloody saliva dripped from his mouth to the carpet as he spoke. Suddenly he felt the curtains around him shift. Hhe raised his head slightly to see what was going on but that was exactly what Bella wanted. With surprising speed she threw a bit of curtain over his head and pulled it tightly around his throat.
He reared back trying to stop his windpipe from being closed from the pressure, but she was pulling the curtain too tight for him to be able to stop it that way. Her foot came stomping down on his back, stopping him from rolling before he could even think of it. Her stiletto heel landed between two of his vertebras making Harry cry out with pain with the last of his air.
"Do I look like I care boy?" Bella hissed at his as his world quickly turned fuzzy and black until Harry finally passed out and fell limp. The curtains fell down with his limp body, fluttering gracefully to the floor, circling artistically around Harry Potter's unconscious form.
Several miles away the rest of the Potters sat in the ministry of magic's waiting room reporting the attack on their former home. Lily gently smoothed Newell's black hair against his skull as she hummed a nursery rhyme to his half sleeping form. James rubbed her knee lovingly as he leaned in the other direction to whisper with Sirius as several aurors fluttered from person to person taking their statements.
Dumbledore slipped into the waiting room finally. After half an hour of rushing around trying to make arrangements for several of the party member's to have a safe house for the night as their houses were to be placed under new security charms.
As he slipped into the room his eyes fell on the Potter family, the image of a calm, collected family surrounded by the fear stricken chaos. But as he stared at them his heart dropped from his chest. One major entity was missing. He rushed to their side, taking Lily by surprise causing her to jump thus waking Newell up.
"Ooh Albus," gasped Lily as she clutched her chest weakly. "You startled me." James broke off his conversation with Sirius and turned abruptly to focus on the old professor. The entire room seemed to grow sober when the headmaster appeared, all of them thinking the same thing, that they were finally safe.
"Did everyone get out?" Dumbledore asked smoothly, though his blue eyes showed the true panic he was feeling.
"Yes..." said James slowly sounding both confused and surprised by the headmaster's rude greeting. "Well Peter, he never showed up but everyone who did got out safe."
"What about Harry?" asked Dumbledore and the room became so still it was like time stopped. Lily gasped and looked around her, as if expecting Harry to pop out from beneath the floor. When he didn't, tears began rolling down her cheeks.
Remus and Sirius hunted through the crowd and the building, expecting to find Harry isolated in a dark corner reading or sitting silently. The guests raked their minds trying to remember when they had last seen Harry. A bald old man swore he couldn't remember seeing harry there at all, but a young tan man insisted he had seen Harry go to the bathroom twenty minutes ago.
"You said you checked to make sure no one was left there!" screeched Lily horrified as she turned angrily to glare at James once the bathrooms had been searched by several people.
"I did!" cried James defensively before pointing at Sirius "we did!"
"He must have gone upstairs: the one place we didn't check" Sirius said angrily, "We were at the bottom of the stairs all night I swear I never saw anyone go up!"
"You didn't check!" cried Lily "You didn't check?" Newell melted into the wall, away from his panic stricken mother and his red faced, guilt ridden father and godfather. Dumbledore looked horrified as he stood there before frantically waving mad-eye moody over. The old auror hobbled over from where he was taking the statement of Mrs. Pettabottom.
"What is it Albus?" growled Moody in his gruff voice that never seemed to hold softness or warmth.
"We need to get back to the house." Dumbledore said calmly his voice sounding older then it had only minutes ago.
"Back?" Moody asked in surprise, his thick grey eyebrows jumping almost comically up his forehead towards his retreating hairline. "Why in the name of merlin would you want to go back?"
"It seems young Harry Potter could still be in the house," Albus said simply and Moody's face aged several years in a matter of seconds. He had been in many situations like this before and gone through rigours training for months but still he was at a lost as to what should be done first. He wiped around his wrinkled mouth with his weathered hand as he stared at Dumbledore in a thoughtful manner both seemed to be thinking the same thing, the chances of Harry's survival.
And those chances were very slim.
With a sudden burst of energy Moody started snapping orders at the many aurors around them. Some were to get healers others were to remain here and a chosen few would be accompanying him to the home.
"Will you be coming with us sir?" asked an eager, flushed Alice Longbottom to Dumbledore as she joined the mission group. Dumbledore smiled down at his former student and nodded. She grinned broadly at him but that smile didn't seem to sit right with Mad-Eye.
"For Merlin's sakes Longbottom," he snapped angrily glaring at her with his normal eye as his magical blue one whizzed around its socket. "We're dealing with a missing child who may be in the hands of Voldemort not a boy who wandered off with a bloody clown at a carnival. If you can't take this seriously you'll be staying here!"
"Sorry sir," she said quickly "I'll be more tactful next time." Moody started blankly at her for several seconds, contemplating his student. Finally he nodded at her and gruffly told her she was still coming.
"I'm coming too," said James as he pushed his way into the group, he positioned himself between Alice and Kingsley. Alice subtly gave his hand a small reassuring squeeze when neither of moody's eyes were looking.
"No you are not Potter!" Snapped Moody, "Rule one: don't let your emotions get involved in any mission, there is no way in hell you will not have your emotions in this mission."
"I don't give a fuck about emotions or rules all I care about is finding Harry! This argument is just increasing the amount of time he's in the Dark Lord's hands!" James hissed back in Moody's face. This surprised the old auror because for all the years of being James' boss he had never heard a harsh or angry word from the man. "Now either you take me, or I just fallow behind you."
Moody and James stared at each other for several tense seconds; Moody's magical eye even seemed to still a little as it stared at James. Finally Moody looked away and gave a gruff nod before signalling for the surrounding arurors to apperate out. With several loud cracks and pops the small group was gone leaving an eerily silent waiting room in its wake.
Tears rolled down Lily's cheeks as she hugged Newell tight to her chest .Her mind whirled as she tried to comprehend what had just happened and how it would affect the rest of her life. She sat there, griped with fears, not for Harry's life, but how his death would affect her family.
Lord Voldemort's thoughts however were on Harry, well Harry's code. As he sat behind his oak desk, glaring at the now creased and tattered notebook page. He had tried every known decoder spell on the simple looking note but nothing had worked. He had been staring at these infuriating numbers for the last hour trying to find their hidden meaning, and yet they remained completely unchanged.
17 3 14 / 3 14 24 3 25 1 / 24 14 2 17 4 / 2 18 / 1 4 13 14 23 / 10 / 14 21 2 25 21
14 17 3 / 1 2 3 12 14 14 / 33 33 14 1 25 20 / 18 2 / 18 2 4 1 2 18 / 21 10 11 12 20
17 14 / 5 2 21 18 14 / 3 10 / 1 11 22 23 14 4 / 23 23 23 33 33 33 3 18 / 1 20 6 18 12 2 14 17 18 / 1 12 14 20 20 24
3 14 17 / 1 1 24 14 13 / 10 13 14 17 / 1 2 3 4 26 14 10 / 2 18 / 14 3 17 / 24 14 17 4 2 / 15 24 / 10 11 12 21 10 20
3 2 ' 18 / 1 2 3 14 14 12 / 33 33 25 20 14 1 / 2 18 / 11 4 2 21 10 / 11 1 14 14 4 24 13 13 21 22
4 3 11 / 4 18 21 23 25 / 21 17 2 13 24 / 10 / " 14 8 20 "
Angrily he sighed as he ran his hand over his bald, smooth head. All the numbers worked, corresponding with letter of the alphabet, except number 33. He had tried everything he possibly could do with the code trying to work around the strange number. He had made the number 33 into two 3's, or subtracted 26 from 33 to get 7, he had even left 33 as a number but all it turned up was gibberish.
He growled and shoved all the papers, books and statuettes off his desk; they fell to the dark wood floor with a loud clatter and he leaned back angrily in his chair. He couldn't believe it, he was being out-smarted by someone barely out of diapers. He clasped his hands behind his neck as he glared up at the ceiling trying to think of another way of solving the code without having to ask the toddler for the solution.