A/N: I know my Latin is horrible. Anyone who can tell me the correct conjugation of the words, I'll love you forever. Otherwise, the words will just remain plain words.

Chapter 4

Hogsmeade, England

"So where do you think we should go next?" Harry asked his friends as they sipped their glasses of firewhisky.

"I think the Riddle house, then the Riddle cemetery," Ron said, taking a swig of the alcohol and smacking his lips.

Hermione looked at Ron with an expression of disgust. "That's the guess I would have made too. Ronald, will you please stop smacking? Your mother would be appalled at your manners!"

He grinned at her. "Yeah, like she would be so proud that I was drinking firewhisky politely. I think she'd be madder that I was drinking at all than complaining about the way I was drinking it."

Harry laughed as the two began arguing. He took a sip of his drink and scanned the room, his eyes alighting on a young woman who was staring at him intently. He was used to people staring at him, it was the downfall of being who he was, but the way this woman was looking at him made him uneasy. Harry nudged Ron, who was glaring at Hermione, and leaned close to whisper in his ear. "Ron, look over in the corner, at that woman in black."

Ron did as he was told after making a face at a very red Hermione. "Blimey, Harry, she's just staring at you," he said quietly. "And I can't tell if it's a friendly or a hostile look."

Hermione glanced over to where the boys were looking and gasped a little. "Harry, do you think she could be a Death Eater?"

Harry looked a bit worried. "I'm not sure, Hermione, and that's what's bothering me."

They watched as the woman drained her glass, still keeping her eyes on Harry. Rosmerta hurried over to the woman, blocking her view of Harry, obviously asking if the woman wanted another drink. When Rosmerta moved away, the woman was twisting the thin gold chain of the necklace she wore around her fingers, and was paying no attention to Harry at all.

"What d' you reckon?" Ron asked, draining the last of his drink.

The three watched the woman for a few more minutes, but the woman ignored them. She didn't look Harry's way once. In fact, she seemed so uninterested that they wondered if they hadn't dreamed up her staring.

"If she was a Death Eater, she would have done something by now, don't you think?" Harry asked.

"I don't know . . ." Hermione said, her forehead creasing in worry. "I think we'd better ask Madam Rosmerta if we can use her fireplace to Floo back to Hogwarts. And tomorrow, we had better leave for the Riddle house."

"Yeah, better to be safe than sorry," Ron chimed in, looking a bit glassy-eyed.

"Speaking of Rosmerta . . ." Harry said, as Rosmerta approached them.

"Any more drinks, you three?" she asked with a smile.

"No thank you," Harry said. "We'd like to go now, Madam Rosmerta, but we were wondering if it would be all right if we used your fireplace to Floo back to the castle."

Rosmerta nodded. "Of course. You can't be too careful, and it's pretty dark out."

"Madam Rosmerta," Hermione began, "do you know the woman over there, sitting in the corner? The one with the black cloak and the curly hair?"

Rosmerta shook her head and looked wary. "No, dearie, I don't," she answered, lowering her voice. "She paid for some firewhisky and a room for the night out of a bag of coins that seemed pretty full. All I could get out of her was that she was from Slovakia. And you can tell she's from somewhere, her accent is pretty thick, lovely as it is."

"Slovakia?" Harry asked. "Where's that?"

"It's by Romania," Hermione told him. "It used to be part of Romania or Hungary, I think."

"Oh," was all Harry said.

"So she's staying here tonight?" Ron asked, his voice a little slurred.

"Yes, but I'm not too happy about it," Rosmerta said. "She makes me feel rather strange."

The others nodded.

"Well, will you be going now?" Rosmerta asked.

"Yes, and thank you, Madam Rosmerta," Hermione said politely.

"Of course, you three," Rosmerta said, leading them upstairs to her private fireplace.

The woman watched them go with a look of utmost amusement. "Oh my, such curiosity," she said to herself, sipping her firewhisky. "The Riddle House, I wonder where that is?" She took another sip of her drink. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. I'll find out tomorrow."

Rosmerta came down the stairs alone and walked over to the woman as she drained the last of the whisky. "Another one?" Rosmerta asked.

"No, thank you," the woman said. "I think I would like to be shown my room."

Rosmerta said nothing, but turned around and walked up another staircase that led to the rooms. The woman followed her without comment. Rosmerta opened the door to a small but very clean room with a bed, a washstand with a mirror, and a wardrobe. There was a thick, braided rug on the floor and a vase of daisies on the washstand.

"Here you are," said Rosmerta a bit curtly, turning to leave.

The woman chuckled and went in, closing the door behind her. She took out her wand and conjured up some water and soap, then took off her cloak and washed her hands and face. She Vanished the dirty water and conjured up a hairbrush, brushed her hair, and braided it quickly. After performing a cleaning spell on her cloak and robes, the woman Transfigured a nightgown out of one of the bedsheets, put it on, and looked in the mirror.

She began fingering her necklace, a very old looking gold chain with a medallion about the size of a Galleon hanging from it. Engraved onto the medallion was a coat of arms. It was blood red, with three white triangles on their side, pointed to the right, like white claws ripping through red flesh. Around the coat of arms were the words Cruor Genetrix Aeternitas, Concrucio Genetrix Delectatio, Metus Genetrix Dicio.

" Blood brings immortality, torture brings pleasure, fear brings power," she whispered. Then the woman smiled, kissed the medallion, and crawled into bed.