Four

Rosier and Emily were standing outside the Most Noble and Ancient house of Black, and it looked ancient indeed. The house seemed to have been grown out of the forest that inhabited it. It was hard to tell where the knotting gnarling branches ended and the turrets and brick begun. It had a majesty about it that was only mildly subdued by the unkempt garden at the front where brick had rotted through, statues covered in vines and weed sprouting everywhere. They opened the creaking gate and made down what they assumed was the path, although their shoes were still muddied.

Rosier rang the doorbell and they waited. They seemed to wait an age so much so Emily reached up to press the bell again but Rosier shock his head, so she waited. Finally the door opened and a house Elf squat with a perky pug face stood there.

'Greetings', the elf said in a high-strung squeaky voice, 'my Mistress is ready to receive you now', bowing so low as to bounce his stubbed nose on the doorstep.

'Thank you', Emily said stepping over the threshold, 'We're Aurors from the Ministry of Magic …'

'…Yes, tea and biscuits are set out in the receiving room, Mistress will join you in a moment.'

'We're here on…'

'…That is most gracious of you', Rosier interrupted, 'we await your gracious Mistress most ardently'

Emily gave Rosier a look most ungracious. It was at times like these she hated him; such a prig with all his pureblood etiquette, however she had promised to play nice so she bite her tongue.

She followed Rosier, taking his lead. Even though he had never before been here he seemed to know exactly where he was going. Did pureblood homes all have the same layout like squib homes? She noticed the house was bigger on the inside, like the Tardis, she thought. The architect was severe and old, a sort of English vesticle gothic style but with a wizarding twist. The view from the window didn't lead to the forest outside that ensconced the house but to a lavish well-kept field beyond; was the garden the illusion or the forest, she wondered.

Apanessie Black entered the room quietly, almost meekly. She didn't have the presence one expected to go with a house so grand; she was almost wispish. She moved in a delicate way as if she were so fragile she might break something. However it wasn't like she was afraid but as if she didn't want to frighten them, as if they were skittish mice.

'Good afternoon' she started, walking closer, in her soft voice, 'I hope my house elf has taken good care of you'

'Very much', Rosier replied.

The house elf seemed to smile, if Emily could call it that.

'Yes the tea is most delicious and the biscuits sumptuous. However we are here…'

'I know you are both important Aurors with busy schedules', she said in a motherly but somehow condescending way as she took a seat opposite, ' Gelinda sent an owl this morning saying you were coming. Now you are either here for one of two things; the girl or my late husband's murder.'

'There's no record that your husband', Rosier intoned slowly, 'was murdered. Alphard Blacks death was ruled a…'

'…suicide. Well it would be because nobody agreed with me and nobody would investigate. Well not properly, being a Black and Selwyn got me a shame of an inquiry but they all thought I was a batty old lady and my name didn't carry the same weight after the scandal with the girl, of course.'

'What scandal with the girl', Emily asked.

'Oh, you don't know. Well why would you. Your young and it was before your time. One does forget social scandals don't get recorded into public history. These things all seem so huge at the time and to those involved but they're forgotten about soon enough. The girl Annabelle Black.'

'What about her?'

'You don't see it. Annabelle. Hardly a pureblood name, very common wouldn't you say; she wasn't a Black at all just some common muggle Alphard had out of wedlock.'

'So the child was muggle born' Emily said almost excitedly.

'Well yes, I suppose. I didn't know this at the time but before Alphard married me he fell in love with some muggle girl. He couldn't marry her, the shame on the family would have been too much, not that Alphard cared but he was a sensitive lad and he couldn't do that to his mother, it would have destroyed her. I don't think anyone even knew about the affair, he broke it off before anyone found out, leaving her up the duff and in love. Not that Alphard knew, of course. Wouldn't have left her otherwise, too much honour you see. He only found out about her when 11 years later she turned up at Hogwarts. The poor girl was deranged or something and by the end of her 1st semester she was packed off to St Mungo's. Maybe some muggle minds are too feeble to handle the change, who knows? However Alphard was distraught, he suspected foul play. After that you couldn't reason with him he insisted on her being published under the Black name in every article, even going as far as to adopt her and officially given the Black name. I think he thought it would help getting someone to investigate and of course he felt guilty about abandoning her. Well the scandal was inevitable and he was shunned from good society and I, his wife, in turn.'

'He even brought the girl here to live to my great shame and the muggle mother came to visit, often. I think it was the first time a muggle had ever stepped foot on this property.'

'I don't know what was wrong with the girl but you couldn't convince him she was just some mad muggle. I mean, of course, I had sympathy for the poor girl but still.'

'I do regret though what I did with the girl, after Alphard died that is. I sent her away. The day after the funeral I told the house elf to take her away to her mother and never mention her again. You know, as you get older these things don't seem to matter so much any more, pure blood, half blood, Mudblood. You know, I don't even know if the girl is still alive. I hope she is. You will find out that for me, won't you'

'I could have started our life over again with Alphard after we were shunned but I was too stubborn and stupid. Even after he was gone I still could have. I don't think I had the heart for it, Alphard was always the heart in our relationship.'

'He was a good husband, you must understand, but I'm afraid I wasn't a very good wife. I was a terrible witch, half a squib and barren, I could never give him the children he wanted. At first I thought he only took me because of my name but later I realised it was because he took pity on me. I was the disappointment of the family and Alphard loved me for that. Look at me I'm blathering on. The girl it was you came for. Let me call the house elf.'

She turned away and walked to the door. Not to call the elf but to wipe away her tears in secret.

She called the elf who came even before she had retaken her seat. Sabril bowed low pressing his nose to the floor to greet his mistress he'd only seen minutes before.

'Sabril,' Mrs Black commanded, ' I would like you to retrieve Alphard's box, please.'

The elf looked at his mistress as if unsure of what to do but dared not disobey a direct order from his Master.

The elf returned a few minutes later carrying a gilded box, which Mrs Black took from him. She held it out and said 'in this box there is a photograph, do not look at it now, it was in my Husbands possession at the time of his murder, I do not know how he came to possess it or where it came from. I hereby bequeath it to your guardianship in the hope it can help solve my dead husbands murder. When you look on it you will understand.'

She handed the box over to Emily who took it eerily.

'Now I have one last business to attend to,' Apanessie continued,' before you leave. Sabril, I would like you to tell these nice Aurors where you took the girl who used to stay with us.'

'Sabril took her away'

'Yes but where, Sabril?'

'Sabril took her to her Mother'

'Sabril, tell me where you took her'

'But Mistress forbad Sabril', the stuttered almost in tears, 'to tell her or speak of the girl again.'

'I did, Sabril, Mistress is sorry for making you break your vow. You did well. However now I recant that order and wish you to tell me where you took her'

'Sabril took girl to London, Sabril took her to a small house, Sabril took her to a brick box in a tower.'

As they left the property to ever lower bows from the house elf Emily looked at the box wondering if she should open it now. She looked up at Rosier to see his intent only to find him looking lost, disappointed.

'Not what you expected', she asked piquantly, wanting to tease him, 'from your pure blood royalty'

'No', he honestly replied.

'Disappointed she was some secret muggle lover?'

Rosier didn't dignify the question with a reply.

'I don't see why you were so in awe of her. Your pure blood royalty yourself – a Rosier, one of the chosen 23'

'You would understand'

'You're all purebloods, what's the difference?'

Rosier gave her a look like he was summing her up, deciding she wasn't up to it but would give it a try anyway.

'She's from one of the oldest wizard lineages stemming right back to the founders of Hogwarts with ties to both Slytherin and Hufflepuff. She's a Selwyn and a Black.'

'But what's that to you, you're a Rosier.'

'Only on my father's side, my mother is only 2nd generation pureblood.'

'Two generation, what does that mean?'

'That my great great grand mother on my mothers' side was muggleborn'

'So what?'

'So I'm hardly of the purest blood'

'Compared to a muggle like yourself', Rosier continued, 'I'm pure blood but to a lineage like hers I'm barely beyond half-blood'

'So what does that matter?' Emily retorted angrily.

'It does matter, everybody knows your magical lineage dictates your magical prowess.'

'What, like the half squib from the ancient house of Black and Selwyn? Hermione Granger is one of the greatest witches of our age; even Lord Voldermort was a half-blood. These things don't matter.'

'They do, you just don't want to see it. Most of the greatest Witches and Wizards of history have been pure blood and had great lineages.'

'That's because they've all been privileged and were given a helping hand to those positions'

'Voldermort was an abandoned orphan and you want to talk about helping hand, what about the Muggle initiative program they're always talking about'

'Or the pure blood one they don't'

'You know, Harry Potter likes to keep this secret but the Potters are direct descendants of the Peverell, one of the oldest and powerful magical families. When it came down to it the fight between Voldermort and Harry Potter was a contest between the Peverell and the Slytherin bloodline. And the Peverell blood won out; even as great as the Slytherin blood is the Peverell's was greater: There heritage was stronger, their house nobler and their magic more ancient. The Hallows myth was based of the brothers Peverell. Blood matters, it's not everything but it matters.'

Emily looked about ready to jinx him with her worst hex she could offer, maybe a 'bat bogey hex'. She thought better of it so resorted to her other grievance and told him he had better not undermine her in front of a suspect again.

When she got back to the Auror office she put the box down on the desk, Rosier was shuffling around on his desk opposite, and thought 'what ever could be in this box'. What had she found in Alphard's possession? Emily still felt a little wound up and decided to seek out her friend Amy so she put it in her draw and told Rosier she'd be back in a little while.

She found Amy in her office and they started chatting pretending that Emily was there to get some insight into a case. It was amazing how deferential people were to an Auror, probably because they thought she could arrest them.

It wasn't till Amy hinted that she needed to go home Emily realised the time. Everyone was packing up to go, objects were flying in rucksacks and shoulder bags all over the office. Emily apologised and made her way back to the lifts. She seemed to be the only one trying to go down and she ran into a few of her fellow Aurors heading home. As she guessed by the time she got to the office it was abandoned, well everyone except James who was still tacking a few more pins to his map and another article as usual. She noticed Rosier was absent from his desk. She walked over to the draw and sat down and took out the box. She wondered if she should open it without Rosier there, it did seem an important moment they should do together. Maybe she should wait for the morning. It suddenly occurred to her she was deliberately putting off opening this box, was she afraid? Her hands began to move towards the lid when the door slammed shut and she looked up to see Rosier entering the room. James vaguely lifted his head up to glance at both obviously sensing something before going back to his own work.

Emily called Rosier over with the nod of her head. When he was close enough she whispered, 'I'm glad you're here, it didn't feel right opening it without you'

'I assume you stayed to open this', she added.

Rosier nodded.

Slowly she reached down and opened the ornate box. Inside was a single envelope already opened. On the back was written the word 'MAP'. Emily picked it up and looked at Rosier to see if she could decipher any meaning from his expression, however he looked as lost as she did. She assumed there must be some sort of map inside the envelope. Where would that lead, it all seemed to be getting ridiculous. However what she removed from the envelope send a silent chill shimmering down her spine. It wasn't a map at all; it was a photo. It was a photo of a little girl stripped naked on a floor seemingly weeping with a half dozen Adult, men and women, naked, surrounding the little girl. There hands instead of covering their private part covered their faces as they let their flaccid penises and rancid cunts leer out her. She glanced at Rosier who had turned away but her eyes flicked straight back to the photo. That was when it happened one of the women turned away from the crying child and turned as if to look at her through the frame and out into the real world. Emily held the gaze of the women for a moment before hastily sealing the photo back in the box.

Emily felt numb. She felt frozen to her desk; eventually it was Rosier who broke the silence. At first she didn't really hear what he said, she hear it perfectly clear but it was like it was gibberish like it didn't make any sense. Rosier repeated the question then repeated her name. Suddenly as if her mind pieced together a riddle she answered the original question.

'I don't know, Rosier', she intoned blankly her face barely moving.

'She said this was the reason he was murdered', Rosier continued, 'do you think he was blackmailing the people in the photo or maybe trying to expose them or maybe he was one of them.'

'Maybe' was all the reply Emily could give.

Slowly Emily felt a sense of warmth trickling back into her fingers and she was able to move them more freely as if her body had shut down. She blinked a couple of times and felt her skin loosen.

'I don't know, Rosier, I don't know' she said answering a question no one answered.

After a few minutes, or hours she wasn't sure, she heard James getting up to leave. She looked over seeing him picking up his bag and knocking his head on the lamb before waving goodbye as he exited the door with his thermal flack in hand as if she weren't really seeing it, as if she experiencing it as a memory.

'Who was she? She asked Rosier.

He replied that he wasn't sure.

'I mean is she Alphard's daughter?'

Rosier told her it wasn't; he had seen photographs of her in the Prophet and it defiantly wasn't her.

'I suppose we need to find out who she is then' Emily said.

'Do you think this is related to our original case' Rosier asked.

'I hadn't thought about that'

Emily on regaining more of her senses suggested they go home. She put the box back in her draw and sealed it with a charm she was sure only she could break.

Emily sitting up into the night finally got up, apparated back to the Ministry and snuck into the Auror's office and took the photo, placing it back into the envelope, and slipped it into her pocket keeping it close to her person.

When she got home she took it out and looked at it again. All the Adults had emptied the frame leaving only the girl slumped against the wall. Even though they were gone she could feel the adult's malicious presence staring on. However more than this she felt the mendacious gaze of the photo itself, as if it had its own perverse intent, which it tried to impose on her. Her skin shook and she put the photo away.

She tried to get some sleep promising to save the girl in the photo. Emily thought sleep would never come but she found herself falling awake with first light shinning on her.

Emily had a purpose and felt driven but she had no direction. Where would she go from here, back to the Black house, maybe there was something more there or start looking into Alphard, that was her best lead. She was almost taken aback when Rosier brought her the news the Obliviator had finished extracting the memories from Tuppence Milton. Emily let out laughed at her own negligence; she had somehow forgotten the original case she was working. Rosier informed her the Obliviator had given him two memories saying the second might be of particular interest to you. Emily couldn't think why but they headed straight to the pensieve room, with Emily electing to keep the mysterious one last. The first one was similar to the last a poor but effective memory charm. Rosier noted the rancid smell; everything pointed to the Chamber of Secrets. They'd be there the day after tomorrow.

She picked the second one up second one and asked if the Obliviator had said anything as to why she'd find it so interesting.

Rosier said it was to do with a question she had asked him but Emily couldn't think of which one it was. Anyway she poured it in the pensieve and she and Rosier were looking down on a street, which was clearly not Hogwarts before they both lurched in drifting down to the street level joining the Little girl trotting up the lane with her briefcase in hand and turning into a gated garden and up to a modest detached cottage only mildly out of place in the city surrounding. Emily couldn't see any specific modification but she followed the girl into the house who had been greeted by an oldly lady, in her late 50's, who had that motherly warmth and sternness about her. She invited the girl in taking off her coat and placing her suitcase in the middle of the floor. When she enters something about the room turned her stomach. Emily glanced around the room and when she looked back at the suitcase it had moved to behind the chair at the head of the table. She listened in to the conversation.

"So you have been invited her', the old lady said, 'as part of a Ministry Muggle acclimation program to help you better under and transition into the Magical world"

'Yes, Miss', the child answered.

'You shall be spending the weekend here under my guidance and a few members of the magical community shall join us to instruct you on some of the magical ways. You may even get to practice some magic, does that sound fun'

'Thank you, Miss'

'Now I want to go upstairs to your room and unpack your things and meet me down stairs where I shall cook you a magical lunch'

The child answered 'Yes, Miss' before heading up stairs and the memory ended.

Rosier and Emily looked at each other in confusion.

'Was that a modified memory?' Rosier finally asked.

'It was', Emily smiled back, 'it was indeed, a very talented one.'

'We need to go back in' Emily said after a moment a sort of giddy adrenaline taking over her.

This was a very good fake. Much better than the earlier ones, which were amateur. She doubted if an untrained eye would pick it up.

'Rosier' she asked 'are you with me?

'Yes', he answered

'Tell me what you see.'

'I see a house, well kept not lavish but not without comfort. It looks within Ministry budget.'

'Do you see anything else? Look around'

Rosier began looking along the walls and stopped at a picture of a mint green racing car crossing the finishing line, brushing hands over it before looking else where. Good she thought, he following the training but does he have the eye for it. She saw him running his hand along the oak shelf running his hand next to the ornament. He went pass a bust of a female laced with dirt, a baseball on a stand, a tragedy mask, a figurine of Skeletor; Rosier stopped on the action figure and picked it up. Next to everything else it stood out. He held it up and asked 'what is this'.

'Skeletor', She replied smiling,' very clever kid, it's a muggle kids show; he was the villain. Skeletor he was called'

'You know what we are looking for, don't you'

'I think so, but I might be wrong and you need to learn. I may be wrong next time and I may be wrong this time. We may need your eyes.'

'Look. Look for anything unusual, think of being in a dream. The symbolic, the interlinked.'

'Have you ever seen the episode of House, of course you haven't, but anyway in this episode a man gets a brain injury and he can't talk properly, the words come out wrong. The words he says might rhyme with what he is saying, be linked thematically or collocate with the word he meant. Think abstract, think colours, look for oddities. The modified mind wants' the truth to be known and the spell wants' it hidden, so they come to a compromise, the mind hides the truth like a riddle. What don't you want to look at in this room? What does your eye slide over?'

Rosier turned to look at the woman's face who he had been avoiding looking at, he placed his face very close to her face, close enough for her to suddenly bite, where he started inspecting it. Emma almost expected her eyes to turn on him. They didn't though, she knew those eyes they were blank eyes; the blank eyes of a false person, she knew them well, although this was good imitation, perhaps she had been too eager to dismiss the obvious. She, herself, began to study the ladies face, it was middle aged, a not unkind face but curt, with a tort mouth and a few aged lines. Yet those eyes still lacked the true vitality of life.

Rosier stepped away looking at Emily asking 'she's not real is she? Who do you suppose she is? A copy like that doesn't come from nowhere.'

'You're right, I hadn't thought of that'

'Could finding this lady lead to a clue as to who made the modify spell'

'Possible', Emily said, then added, 'good work, Rosier. We'll look into it but I shouldn't think they would be so stupid as to use someone close to them, however never underestimate human stupidity'

'The chair,' Rosier suddenly pointed, 'I keep not wanting to look at it, and it's like it slides from my mind whenever I stop looking at it'

'Good, but what's next to the chair'

'The suit case'

'Lying flat. Why is an 11 year old carrying a suitcase? You might not know this but muggle children don't carry their belongings in suitcases. Pass me that skeletor doll. Skeletor, I remember you. Where do you hide your skeletons, Rosier?'

'In the closet…'

'…Or in the basement. Skeletons are also buried underground. This suitcase leads to a staircase, Skeletor sounds like cellar door and what else opens a door but a skeletor key, clever girl.'

Smiling she took the skeletor doll and looked to insert it in suitcases lock then suddenly she stopped. Did she just hear what she thought she heard?

'Did she just say, "I wouldn't do that"?' she asked startled.

'No, I don't believe so. I wasn't paying close attention to the conversation, I think she asked she something and she replied but I can't be sure'

'I thought I heard her say it, never mind'

'What are we going to find down there, Emily?

'Don't know'

She took the skeleton key and placed it in the lock. Then gripping the handle she pulled back the lid. Black abyss greeted them; Rosier caught her eye wondering if he was expected to go in there. Before she could answer she felt a tug at her navel and found herself kneeling on the concrete floor of the pensieve room. She looked over at Rosier who looked slightly shook and laughter over took her, a haughty look over took him.

'You knew that was going to happen, didn't you?' Rosier confronted her angrily.

'I'm sorry; this is just how I react. It's nothing personal. That was… wow,' She took a deep breath and composed herself, 'I knew there was a probability it wouldn't lead anywhere. However I had no idea it would throw us out.'

She let out an exhilarated laugh before restraining herself and carrying on.

'We were investigating where we were suppose to not look not what we were looking for. Only a very poor memory spell would leave something major behind. Whatever we found was what she wanted us to find.'

'And whatever that thing may be is something that scares that girl shitless. One more, you up for it'

'If I said not would it matter' Rosier drawled.

'I suppose not' she said pouring the silver misty liquid into the pensieve. As she poured she saw what looked like ice chips in the liquid mist. She looked into the image appearing in the basin, it looked like shattered pieces of a mirror flickering about, a fragment of a memory. She told Rosier this memory was damaged beyond repair.

'Does that mean we're not going into it,' he asked

'Yes,' she replied finding herself also relieved, now that the adrenaline had worn off she found her heart shook by the aura that emanated from that dark abyss, she felt what showed on Rosier's face.

'I think we'll call it a day. You did well, Rosier. Take the rest of the day off. Hang out with your friends, or whatever purebloods do in their spare time, go torment some muggles. I need some time on my own to think. You did well, I expect you to be bright and fresh later'

Rosier bowed slightly before taking his leave. God, he his so stiff, she thought. She probably shouldn't have made that quip about torturing muggles, she could see his lips contort in rage, but what was she going to do about it now.

It had been a strange day seeing those little bits of the muggle world from her childhood she thought as she sat back at her desk. She supposed she'd be seeing a lot more with her work in the muggle community. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Rosier asked if he could stay stating he wanted to get another look at the memory, get some practice in. He wanted to trace how she had come to her conclusion. She left him to it, she need to get something to eat.

On returning to the office Rosier wasn't there but he came in a good 10 minutes later. Emily said she'd got him a sandwich in case he's forgotten to eat however Rosier wasn't interested.

'There's something I need to tell you, in private', he said tersely. Emily got the message and performed a temporal muffling spell. A few of the Aurors looked up at the spell but it was common enough practice to not draw any attention. Secretly ever Auror wanted their own private office however too many cases had been opened up by simultaneous cases and Aurors chatting, looking at others works or over heard a name mentioned for the Ministry to want to change, and most accepted the sacrifice in privacy for the benefits an open office gave.

Rosier took a seat into the temporal zone. He leaned in closer although there was no need.

'The room in the memory, it's the same room' he said

Emily knew which room he meant, she had known it when she walked in, but she asked the question almost like an instinct.

'What room is that, Rosier?'

'The one in the photograph'

Suddenly Emily's breath became shallow and she was having difficulty catching her breath.

'What's wrong? HELP, HELP' he called, but of course no one could heard him through the muffle spell.

Emily caught his wrist before he could stand up and concentrated on taking deep breaths.

'I'm Ok, Rosier', she said taking deep breaths, 'I just need a minute'.

When she finally caught her breath she turned to Rosier and said, 'Rosier, I think we need to take a visit to one Annabelle Black'