Chapter 3 – The VHS Tape
Wednesday 7 July
When evening came, the Dark Lord summoned Lucius. Rubbing a bit of salt in the wound, Tom had a large decanter of single-malt on the table. It turned out that the liquor barrels and wine cellars were in the north wing of the estate and Lucius had hesitated to call his elf to visit them. Riddle had no acquired taste for the distilled liquor, but knew that his blond servant craved it. As such, he offered Lucius a glass that matched the two-finger portion that he'd poured for himself. "Here."
Lucius finished his within a minute and was reaching for a refill when Riddle accidently spilled the decanter. Malfoy's eyes showed a momentary flash of outrage until he recalled that he was hosting the deadliest man that he'd ever met. He took a calming breath and Riddle poured him the last two ounces that were in the decanter.
Riddle considered that it might be to his advantage to simply end the Malfoy line someday – after he managed to acquire most of the wealth that the snobbish aristocrat possessed. Riddle had no real interest in women, so Narcissa was of no use to him. The brat was worse than worthless. Lucius' sole value lay in his stores of gold and his seemingly inextinguishable access to the respectable side of wizarding society.
He put those thoughts away for another day and casually mentioned, "Peter has completed his task. He has found the Grangers' place of business. Do not call on him for additional assistance with your little grudge. He's done his part." He let the news hang in the air for a minute to see how Malfoy would react.
Riddle let the deafening silence hang in the air and Lucius began to squirm as the seconds ticked by. After nearly a minute, the Dark Lord asked, "Was your son sufficiently punished for his foolishness?"
Lucius had a moment of indecision. If he answered yes, his Master would likely demand details. If he answered no, both he and his son would likely spend the night being tortured, with Narcissa being forced to watch. In truth, Draco had sufficiently twisted the original facts to imply that ninety percent of the problem had been with Flint's son, when, in fact, he had shot his mouth off to the guards, again. Then Narcissa got involved and automatically took her son's side. Finally, he replied, "Yes, but he has been slow to give up some of his childish ways. I had hoped that he would have matured more during the last school year, but the old fool set no limits."
Riddle replied, "Enough diplomacy. If that's what you enjoy, get yourself appointed to the soon to be available position of representative to the ICW. Amongst ourselves, you and I agreed to say what we believed. Here's the information that Peter provided." He handed Lucius an envelope from Pettigrew containing a map and the telephone book listing for the Granger and Granger dental clinic.
"Thank you, my –"
Riddle hissed, "If you're simply going to burn down a building, you can do it at night. If you're expecting the Grangers to be there, do it during the day between the hours listed; most likely at half five. Plan that there will be many people around. Do not attract undue attention. Wormtail stated that this Buckswood Drive was one that many of the muggle cars traveled on. The Granger…" He paused, searching for the word, "clinic is on the west end of the building. Lucius, do not engage everyone that happens to be there. Simply destroying the business and getting everyone back here would be a success in my eyes, and you would have made your point. Peter told me that there are woods nearby that may be useful in serving as a staging point. Again, this is your outing, so do not unjustly coerce anyone into joining you. You can bring your son and Flint's son if you wish. It might be best if you did."
He paused and very slowly finished his drink before he added, "Know this, Lucius, if they needlessly draw attention to us again, I will end them. Are we clear?"
Lucius nodded, "Perfectly, my Lord. Thank you for your generosity."
Riddle had already turned to the next item on his ever expanding list; he said absently, "By Saturday morning, I want this resolved and behind us. We have many other things to do. Make your plans, brief me and I'll call the Death Eaters tomorrow after breakfast. Have your elf get you your whiskey; your hands are shaking without it."
Lucius said quickly, "Thank you for this opportunity. I'll take my leave," and scurried out before the Dark Lord could change his mind.
… - …
Fudge was quite pleased with himself. By studying the rules carefully, he found that he could remove Dumbledore from the ICW representative position with just the stroke of his quill. Effectively, the old wizard served at the pleasure of the Minister and had held the position since before Bagnold had held the office. Lucius had recently mentioned an interest should the position ever become available. It would be an inexpensive way to pay his supporter back.
The Chief Warlock position of the Wizengamot was another long-grandfathered position. Like Fudge's own position, it could be removed by a two-thirds majority call of no-confidence. He would have to carefully consider if he could muster the votes, as a failed vote would almost guarantee that Dumbledore would in turn call such a vote against him. Fudge believed his chance for success would hinge on presenting a widely acceptable suggested replacement.
The Headmaster role could be removed by a similar two-thirds majority vote of the twelve seat board of Governors. Since Lucius' ignoble departure from the board two years ago, Fudge was certain that he couldn't muster a majority, let alone eight votes. He could, however, force an instructor appointment in the event that Dumbledore still had a vacancy at noon on 31 August.
… - …
Amelia Bones arrived at the Granger residence Thursday at noon. She looked around and smiled, then knocked on the door. Emma answered, saw the older woman and smiled in her greeting. "Good morning, Amelia. I hope this wasn't too much trouble. The teens mentioned that they were going to spend the afternoon with you and Susan. I just sort of invited myself along."
The gray haired woman smiled back and replied, "It's not a bother. I don't get many callers who I actually enjoy. Too many are either politicians, or those that want me to influence a case one way or another. I enjoy your company too. Law enforcement people never have enough friends, only colleagues." Glancing outside she asked, "What are you having done?"
Emma gave a little laugh at the absolute absurdity of her answer. "We're having intent based wards installed - well actually Harry is. He bought the house from Dan on Tuesday. The goblin warders are just finishing up." Emma shook her head in disbelief at her own statement. "When I was Harry's age, I wanted a new stereo, err, record player and copies of the latest songs. He's out buying properties and taking care of us."
Amelia gave a little laugh in agreement and took a careful look out the front window. She happened to notice the letterbox and asked, "Olifson?"
Emma responded, "That's a good one. Let's collect the teens, try out your portkey and I'll tell you the tale over a cuppa."
After lunch, the teens went to the game room, leaving Emma and Amelia free to talk. Amelia was laughing – envisioning a confused Death Eater walking away in disappointment, thinking they had come to the wrong house.
… - …
Harry, Hermione and Susan were playing billiards, which was a new game for him. They took turns playing eight ball. Currently, Hermione (who was surprisingly good) and Susan were playing while Harry sat on one of the oak bar stools watching them play.
It was a hot day, so all three of the teens were wearing shorts and tee shirts. Susan had changed into just a crop top one with the bottom cut off and her yellow shorts after lunch. Harry had acquired a new appreciation for motion and gravity as Susan, who was in front of him, stretched over the table attempting to line up her shot. She seemed to take forever; leaning this way or that, moving her cue back and forth. Harry could see an eyeful; several in fact. He seemed to be completely mesmerized.
Hermione stood off to the side, and bit her lip to keep from laughing at Susan's carefully considered pose. She normally wouldn't approve at Harry perving on a girl, but Susan liked him and knew exactly what she was doing. The strawberry blond wiggled her bum a bit as she finally took the shot; only to miss. Hermione handed her cue to him and innocently inquired, "What's the matter, Harry? You look a bit distracted."
Harry said quickly, "I'm fine. I was, um, I was just watching, I mean I was just thinking about something."
"Boobs or bum?" asked Hermione.
The two witches each leaned over and gave him a kiss in the cheek and had a very good laugh at the flustered lad's expense. Susan smiled at them both, her eyes lingering as she met Harry's gaze. In hew quiet voice, she said, "Thanks for coming over today. I don't get much company on holiday; mostly Auntie's friend Connie or Mr. Croaker. Auntie likes visiting with your mum too."
Hermione replied, "We like visiting with you both too." As it was getting to be time to go she added, "Please thank Smidgen again for lunch. Can you come over again next Thursday? Maybe we can go swimming again."
Susan looked at Hermione, who winked in return and then at Harry, who really had come to enjoy her company. She replied, "I'd like that, very much. Auntie will probably be busy, but Smidgen can take me."
"Thanks again."
… - …
Lucius recalled the conversation that he'd had regarding the Grangers. The Dark Lord's instruction was uncharacteristically vague, as if he had no real interest in the subject.
Lucius decided on the seemingly safer of the options – a quick torching of the building.
From Wormtale's notes, he assumed it was a two story building, probably like the ones at Hogsmeade with the thatched roofs.
As he had zero confidence in Draco's ability to apparate with any finesse, he decided to accept the invariable ribbing that he would get from his friend, Wolfred Nott and side-along his son. It certainly was better than a panic filled splinch in the event that anything went wrong.
He'd heard from Nott and Flint, after they'd had a few, how frequently Draco uttered his all but empty, When my father hears this threats. He'd seldom stepped in and interfered in Draco's little squabbles, but it apparently had worked well enough against the uninformed or younger students, that he'd made a bad habit of it.
In spite of the bother of being banned from the bank for a month, Lucius was glad in a way that the goblin had shut Draco's blathering down. He only hoped that his prideful son had learned that he wasn't always the strongest kid on the street.
Yet he had a nagging suspicion that going against the Grangers would swell Draco's already enlarged ego and simply harden the resolve of the muggle-born witch to the point that she would grow to become a formidable enemy. He should have ignored Narcissa and caned the brat instead.
More bothersome, Snape had disappeared, claiming that he was on a long-term task from the Dark Lord and that he shouldn't be bothered for the next month. That would leave him to tap Parkinson, Nott, Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, Flint and the two boys. He'd have rather used the crew that they had for the Quidditch match, but Macnair worked and Jugson was away, on holiday.
They'd apparate to the nearby woods, silently make their way to the building, fire off a few quick curses, apparate back to Knockturn to throw off any investigators, then apparate back home in time for dinner. It seemed like a good plan. He went to the fireplace to make his calls.
… - …
Albus enjoyed discussing topics with the headmaster portraits. Depending on the skill of the artisan who painted and bespelled them, they possessed varying degrees of conversational skill and recall. Better still, they invariably forgot the conversations within a few hours; all but guaranteeing confidentiality.
This particular day, he called on his old boss, Armando Dippet, who'd held the position through both world wars; finally retiring in 1946. He'd passed away shortly after. "Headmaster Dippet, can we converse for a while?"
Delighted at the attention, Dippet's portrait replied, "Professor Dumbledore, how may I help?"
Slipping into a subservient role with the arrogant painting, Dumbledore politely inquired, "Headmaster, what do you recall about Tom Riddle?"
"Professor, when I met him as a first year, I had doubts about his character. As he grew, those doubts certainly were proven wrong. Head Boy and a Special Services Award… doubly impressive, given his upbringing, I'd say Whatever became of him? I always thought he would become Minister of Magic one day."
"Armando, when you retired in the summer of 1946, Tom was working at Borgin and Burkes. Do you recall your studies on Horcruxes?"
Dippet's portrait stroked its chin. "Yes. A fascinating subject on a theoretical basis, if you put aside the murders involved in their creation. I acquired a few of the better tomes on the subject. Quite fascinating."
"Headmaster, some wizards theorized that the strength of a spirit of a disembodied wizard, especially multiple Horcruxes would in some way be based on the relative strength of the remaining anchors. What are your thoughts?" Dumbledore pressed on.
The portrait replied, "Goodness, Professor, that's a sticky question. Not thinking of trying it yourself, I hope? Regardless of the treatise by Jaykay, I believe that there may be something to it. Let's say that a disembodied spirit retained, for sake of discussion, ten percent of their original Will – the ability to forcibly influence others. If the anchor were in two pieces and the first one was destroyed, I would expect that the level of exertable Will would be reduced. Whether you believe in the equal part theory or the halving splits theories would, I suppose, determine the percentage of loss. It's all hypothetical of course, as the sample size available for study is near zero. You could make the same case either way regarding the abilities or stamina of a reanimated wizard, or a Horcrux maker who has lost a part of their anchor, or even subsequent possessions. Again, there simply is no statistically significant sample available to study. Throughout history, Horcrux makers rarely advertised their achievements."
Slightly sickened by witnessing a previously unseen facet of a man that he'd worked with for several decades, Dumbledore asked, "Headmaster, what else do you recall about Tom?"
"As an older student, he displayed definite pride in his newly discovered heritage. He claimed direct lineage of Salazar himself through the Gaunt line. In the start of what would have been his sixth year, he wore his grandfather's old ring with pride; that old gold one with the black stone. It must have been good for the boy to reconnect with his grandfather after growing up in that orphanage. What line of work did you say that he ended up in again, retail? I always thought he be Minister one day."
"Thank you, Headmaster. You've been very helpful." He didn't entirely agree with Dippet's conclusion, but was willing to hear him out. He frequently found that hearing faulty conclusions like Dippet's invariably reinforced his own beliefs.
He popped another sherbet lemon into his mouth.
… - …
As they were having breakfast, Emma declared, "Dan, the more I think about it, the more I'm in favor of reincorporating the business and relocating into that new strip mall on Crawley Avenue. We should go talk with Sneerwell on Saturday. We can probably be moved in a few weeks."
"Clearly, it wouldn't be free. Harry must have paid closing costs on the house."
Emma agreed, "True, but I think we have enough cash in the business operating account for attorney's fees and the mover; even if the rent is higher at the new place. Business insurance would be the same, and Grace and Pam might get more cleaning work due to better visibility of the practice."
Dan remarked, "We can always use a few new patients ourselves."
Emma sighed and commented, "Don't let our son's inherited circumstances bother you. There's no yardstick, my love. "What about the employees? We'd be down a month at least for refit?"
Dan replied, "We'll finalize it Saturday. I want to be fair to everybody, but we can't bankrupt ourselves. Ami could help with getting the office back together."
"We could offer them two weeks paid vacation and four weeks unpaid vacation. If they wanted to file redundancy instead, that's up to them, but I think our offer would be best."
"We'll see what Sneerwell says."
"OK. Let's go to work."
… - …
Friday 9 July
On Friday morning, Rufus looked at his watch one more time and positioned himself in the hallway as though he was casually reading the latest Prophet. On schedule, Fudge walked by with his own copy and a stack of envelopes in his hand. He saw Scrimgeour and greeted him, "Good morning, Rufus. Are we still scheduled for tomorrow afternoon?"
Rufus played his hand. He leaned in, and in a conspiratorial whisper replied, "Sounds good, Minister. How about if it's just you and me? We can get to the bottom of this, find some common ground and move on. OK?"
Fudge responded with the hoped for misinterpretation. He smiled and replied, "Sounds perfect – three o'clock then."
… - …
Dumbledore recalled Dippet's words as he returned his pensieve to its cabinet and closed the door; an old gold ring with a black stone indeed.
Bob Ogden's memory of visiting Gaunt's shack now felt like it completed the puzzle. Tom must have discovered the shack, Imperioused Morfin to kill Marvolo and stole Marvolo's ring. All that as a finishing fifth year. Five decades later, the thought still distressed Dumbledore.
His phoenix looked on as the long haired professor lamented, "So many things come back to Little Hangleton, Fawkes – Tom catching Merope's eye, the love potion, abuse by Marvolo, the shack, the ring and locket… That's it! The shack! He must have hid the ring in the shack."
Fawkes trilled in apparent agreement. In truth, he was more interested in flying out to the lake and catching a juicy fish, but didn't want to appear rude.
Dumbledore turned to the firebird and said, "No, I don't think I'll call on anyone else to go along. Now that I've solved the puzzle, collecting the prize should be the easy part."
Another trill. This one sounding more urgent.
"You're right. I should bring a cursebreaker's bag. Good idea. I think I'll go eat lunch now and see how Severus is doing. Thank you, old friend."
Fawkes burst into song and disappeared in a flash of flame. Dumbledore was quickly off to lunch, and thus missed seeing the bird execute a fiery Wronski Feint toward the surface of the lake.
… - …
Dan and Emma had long found that the most effective means of being in the dental business, rather than the accounts receivables business, was Visa. They simply paid the two and a quarter percent merchant fee and the next day their money was in the bank. The patients paid by Visa, Ami in the office filled out the paperwork and the client usually received their check by the time that their credit card bill was due. There were no receivables for Granger & Granger and the patients earned their air miles – everyone was happy.
It wasn't that they were Anti-NHS; rather that they'd heard many grumblings from their dentist colleagues that, especially for the band-one level of services such as cleanings, scalings etc. that by the time they paid the hygienist, factored in the cost of the rebill, rent, equipment, business insurance and the like – they as business owners made nothing. As such, they were happy with their business model.
The morning went by fairly quickly. Ami, their gem of an office girl had ordered pizza for the little company of six. Both Grangers thought that she was a great find – warm, bubbling personality, quick to respond with patient calls. At twenty four, she had much to look forward to. Grace and Pam were very competent hygienists, while Jack was an adequate dental assistant, though a bit hot-headed.
Of all the employees, Emma enjoyed listening to Ami tell her adventures. "We're going to the game tonight. Crawleytown is playing Fleetwood."
Pam replied, "Better than watching Selsey, I suppose. They always lose."
Grace added, "True, but their goalie is a fit bloke – wouldn't mind meeting him, I'll tell you."
Emma smirked, "You'll be comparing probes next. Let's get back to work and finish the afternoon."
… - …
Seven Death Eaters, a mean-drunk-in-training, and a spoiled brat apparated to the forest by Buckswood Drive and began walking along the roadside towards the dental office, in full Death Eater regalia. More than a few cars passed by them, believing that the nine wizards were, in fact, part of some sort of Star Wars reenactment and cheerily beeped their horns or waved as they went by. One young woman even stopped and snapped a few quick photos to show her older sister.
Lucius ignored the not-so-silent grumble that they should have apparated closer. In reality, they couldn't, as the senior Malfoy and Flint had to adjust their sons' masks and didn't want to have to do that at the dental office parking lot.
… - …
Dumbledore admitted to himself that hindsight was 20-20. He'd never taken the time to visit the graveyard where Cedric had been murdered. As such, he had someplace that he wanted to go and no way of apparating there without coordinates. He walked down to see Irma Pince.
Perhaps she could loan him a good atlas.
… - …
The second that they walked out of the woods, Lucius was reminded of the axiom regarding the word assume. He should have spent yesterday reconnoitering the brick and glass building and layout. Busy didn't fully describe the roadway at that time of day. There was an endless line of people going by in those infernal muggle machines. They reached the parking lot and he realized an entire series of misjudgments. The building was much larger than what he was expecting, there were people walking about outside the building and it was largely sided with brownstone with a flat roof that definitely wasn't thatched.
He grumbled. "West end… Wormtail is a bloody moron, did he mean southwest or northwest…?"
"Are we going to stand here, or are we going to do something?" Nott taunted him.
Lucius snipped, "Fine then. Form up in an L on that side and this side. Cast a reducto followed by two incendios each and we'll leave."
Draco drawled, "I wanted to rape the mudblood's mum and flay the skin off of her while her husband helplessly watched."
"We'll do it as we agreed. Now form up on my right." He just hoped that his son never met up with Narcissa's twisted sister, Bella. She'd probably teach him the skills to actually achieve his excessively disturbing ideas. Parkinson vowed to himself never to get his daughter involved with the twisted teen.
They started to form up, but had to accommodate a large van that was backing up and ended bunching up on the long end of the building.
"Excuse me, can I get a picture for my nephew?"
A jet of green light from Avery's wand silenced her and she slumped to the ground behind him. Avery muttered, "She shouldn't have startled me."
Shaking his head at the growing clusterfuk, Lucius commanded, "Now."
In a series of flashes, there were shattered windows, screams and jets of flame shooting through the windows igniting the interior. Crabbe and Goyle were apparently attempting to ignite the bricks themselves. Nott yelled, "It's a brick building, you ignorant bastards. Blow the glass windows up first, then fire inflambre."
… - …
While it may have been poorly executed outside, inside the results were horrific. Grace and Pam were in one of the surgery rooms chatting, and were horrifically cut up from the shattered glass from Parkinson's hex. Moments later, both of the beautiful women were on the floor, bleeding out in the blazing room.
… - …
Dan and Jack the assistant had walked out the door to the back lot and were both just getting into their hot cars. Jack noticed a bunch of Darth Vader wannabes setting the building on fire and blowing up the windows. They must have been tossing firebombs, as there was smoke and flames pouring out of the windows of their business. He put the Land Rover in gear, stepped on the accelerator and launched a one tonne mechanical bowling ball at the group who were bunched together, admiring their work.
Meanwhile Dan dashed out of his BMW, and ran as fast as he could back into the burning building.
… - …
Completely insatiated from his lack of torture opportunities, Draco kept casting reducto hexes through the broken windows. The ten seconds that they were supposed to have taken was now reaching the thirty-second mark. Lucius, yelled, "Draco. Be done. Now."
The frustrated teen saw movement through one of the windows and cast a last reducto hex, which, unfortunately, hit the high-pressure nitrous oxide tanks which the Grangers used in their business.
BOOM!
… - …
Inside the burning clinic, Emma and her desk took the brunt of the blast from the exploding tank. She was slammed backwards. Outside, Draco was knocked to the ground and his wand arm was nearly severed from the flying glass.
Ami pulled her unconscious boss with a badly bleeding head out of the burning room, ignoring the flames that were licking at her arms and legs.
… - …
Jack's Land Rover hit Buster Goyle square-on, knocking him over the bonnet and eventually off of the top of the big sport utility vehicle. Lucius was hit with a glancing blow which knocked him down, shattering his hip and femur. Conrad Parkinson cast a green jet through the open window and the now-driverless car slammed into a large oak tree.
Nott grabbed hold of Lucius, who was screaming in pain, and yelled, "Leave now!"
Seconds later, the Death Eaters disapparated away, bringing one soon-to-be-dead and two badly wounded fellows with them.
… - …
Dan raced back into the now fully engulfed clinic, pulled the double doors open into the waiting area and saw his own personal view of hell. The operating suites were ablaze, and little Ami was bravely pulling Emma out of the wreckage. Ami shouted, "She's alive; check on Pam and Grace."
The smoke wasn't horrible due to all of the open windows, but the surgical suites were ablaze. The first one was empty and Dan found both women in the second, amongst a sickenly large pool of blood. Pam's head was at an odd angle, with large pieces of glass in her neck. She was clearly gone and her clothes were smoldering. Grace appeared to be alive, as she was clearly bleeding in multiple wounds to her back. Dan picked her up in a fireman's lift and made his way to the back entrance, where Ami had pulled Emma.
Dan dashed back into the building one last time to get the large first aid bag which was under Ami's desk. When he returned, Ami had removed Grace's scrub top and was futilely attempting to apply direct pressure to the two largest wounds. The bleeding wasn't coming out nearly as hard as it had when Dan first found her.
He carefully wrapped bandage gauze around Emma's head. She was bleeding from the mouth, nose and ears.
Ami asked, "Where's Jack?"
… - …
Dan ran as fast as he could through the building to the front and looked around. The fire alarm and sprinkler had finally turned on. Off to the left end of the parking lot, he saw Jack's SUV, apparently having been driven into a large oak tree. A woman was dead in the parking lot, having fallen face forward onto the asphalt.
As he trotted to Jack's SUV, he came across a broken walking stick with a silver snake head on the handgrip. He picked up the pieces. When he reached the SUV, Jack's lifeless eyes told him what he needed to know. The vehicle obviously hadn't hit the tree very hard and the driver airbag had activated. Jack hadn't died from a car wreck.
Hearing the ambulance and police sirens approaching, he ran back into the building, to the maintenance closet and pulled the VHS tape from the closed circuit monitoring system, replaced it with a new tape and turned it on again. He took the tape and the cane and locked them in the boot of his car.
The parking lot was starting to fill up now. One brave man had gone through the dental office and pulled Pam's body out. Dan stood back as the four medics attended to Grace and Emma, all the while alternating between doing their work and shouting at people to step back.
He stood at the side parking lot and saw that the police were interviewing two witnesses, surrounded by a score of gawkers. He clearly could hear the receptionist from the other side of the building state that, "It was weirdoes dressed up in Darth Vader getups that had firebombed the building. Where did they get off to now? They were here three minutes ago."
A cold rage fill his heart as he walked back to see Emma and Grace loaded into one of the ambulances. He turned to get in, but could see that with the two stretchers and the three medics inside, that there was simply no room. The driver rolled down the window and said, "I'm sorry that there's not more room. We're headed to Crawley Hospital on West Green. Do you know the women's names?
Dan replied, "The woman with the head trauma is my wife, Emma Granger. The other woman is Grace Smith, who works for us. I'll drive behind you."
… - …
Two hours later, Dan, Hermione, Harry and Ami were still sitting in the ER Surgical waiting room. After a quick exam, the hospital staff had suggested that Ami borrow Dan's car to go pick up the teens and bring him back a change of clothing. She had forgotten to get one from Hermione, even though they were nearly the same size. As such, she was sitting next to Hermione, wearing a top splattered in her mum's blood. Dan was relieved and disappointed when Ben, his father-in-law came and sat down, rather than the surgeon.
About thirty-five years older than Dan, about Harry's size, and slightly frail looking, Ben asked the teens, "Any word on your mum yet?"
Hermione sat; white faced, nearly in shock, holding hands with Ami and Harry, who had a look of grim determination on his face.
Harry had no knowledge about the workings of a hospital. Madam Pomfrey had normally spent five to ten minutes fixing him and half an hour scolding him for his reckless behavior. A three-hour surgery was completely out of his scope of experience and he was scared witless that he was soon going to lose his second mum.
The older man exerted a quiet confidence. He maintained eye contact with the two teens as he held onto both of them equally and kept repeating, "She'll make it. Em will make it."
… - …
The editor of the London Times was having a field day. Nine men dressed up in bad costumes turned out to be terrorists who firebombed a seeming random building, killing four people and seriously injuring several others. To top off what would normally be an unbelievable story, he'd just purchased rights to a fairly clear photo of the men taken just minutes before the attack.
What was confusing, aside from the men themselves and their sudden disappearance, were the witnesses. There were three witnesses who were inside on the other end of the building looking out who all described seeing the men firebomb their neighbor. Remarkably, two of the people who were interviewed and had been outside in the parking lot, now had no clear recollection of the attack. In contrast, several people passing by who were driving at the time had perfect recollection of the attack.
He directed, "Bottom front page, print the photos and the solid facts. We'll run the analysis and witness accounts Sunday."
ooo ccc ooo
Crow hoped that those who said he was a favorite would leave a short note saying Mike was the best. He certainly thought so. His friend deserved it
The old scribe had been reminded that he did not have the eyesight that he used to and that there had been a few blotches in his first reports. His friends Bill and Mike were older too and they had learned to forgive each other and ignore each other's shortcomings. Fortunately the grey wolf and the YoR master had better eyesight than him and many clever ideas.
Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall was not in a forgiving mood. "Mr. Crow, first you reminded everyone that I wasn't as young as I used to be, let those people die, then you misplaced the headmaster. I haven't seen him in days now."
The old scribe thought to himself, Better get used to the idea, and was thinking of saying something, but dropped a business card on her desk before walking off.
"Further, you will keep in mind that Miss Bones is not yet sixteen. This isn't 1275. You will remember that, Mr. Crow. Perhaps you should reread the Offenses Against the Person act."
Wondering if she'd been present for the signing and completely ignoring her blathering, Crow recalled that there was a rental shop available in Skagway and walked out the door. He had a smile on his face at the thought. A minute later, the familiar rumble had faded off into the distance.
Minerva didn't know what to do. The card read, Have Chrome, Will Travel – 8975202. She hoped her stock of brandy would be up to the task.
… - …