The Circle Around the Fire
Chapter 4 – When Diplomacy Fails
Harry had been in Taqqiq's care for a week before he spoke to her. The tiny boy had spent the majority of that time sleeping, resting and regaining his strength. He took well to the broth that Taqqiq cooked for him, and she hoped that he would soon get some meat on his bones. While he was awake he mostly watched Taqqiq as she performed her regular duties. He was fascinated when she made potions and herbal remedies in the great clay pots arranged around the fire. He watched avidly as she sent herself into a trance in order to survey the forest. He was especially interested when she spoke to the animals. She had confirmed with Anissu, the little snake she had rescued along with Harry, who was quite talkative when he wasn't freezing to death, that Harry could in fact talk in the snake language, but hadn't known that he could. She was gradually beginning to suspect that the child had not been brought up by those who knew magic.
That would fit in with her suspicions about who the child was. When she had first seen the scar that marked his forehead, she had immediately seen it for what it was – the mark of a powerful curse. She could feel the magic dripping from it, like blood, and her first sight of it had caused a memory to stir in the back of her mind. She couldn't quite place it, but the simple ritual she intended to do should settle that. And this day, as the first day that the child had first spoken to her, was perfect.
He had woken in the morning, after she had already lit the fires and started cooking porridge for breakfast.
He opened his mouth, and his lips worked silently for a few moments, before he spoke.
"Hello?" His voice cracked from disuse, and he spoke in Parseltongue, but speaking in any language was better than not speaking. "Thank you for saving me." He still spoke in the serpent language, so she replied in like.
"Any time, my child," she hissed while she continued her stirring of the porridge. "Anissu tells me that your name is Harry." He nodded, and then looked expectantly at her. "My name is Taqqiq," she said. And then Harry smiled for the first time, and it was like the sun burning away the mist the way his grin brightened his face.
For the rest of the morning, he said little to her, but little was more that the nothing he had been saying before. However, he was very chatty with the little snake, Anissu. The two were quickly becoming as thick as thieves. Taqqiq suspected that if snake years and human years were comparable, they would probably be about the same age.
When the Sun reached its zenith in the sky, she began to prepare her ritual. She intended to contact the leaders of her order, who were both wise and powerful, to inform them of her findings. She went through the opening at the back of her cave, through to the room she set aside for working her magic, and got to work.
She took two different herbs, which she crushed together with a mortar and pestle. She mixed them together with melted snow from outside the cave until they formed a dull green paste. She chanted a couple of words over the mixture, which brightened instantly to pure white. She lit an Ikuma, a ritual fire, on a pile of a mixture of oak and hawthorn wood, with a click of her fingers.
She dipped her index finger into the paste and drew it across her cheek. A curved white line underlined her eye. She did the same on the other side, and then outlined her mouth. These would allow her to be seen and heard through her link to the Elders. She then took the same herbs she had used in the trance in which she found Harry, and cast them over the fire. Again smoke billowed high. Again she chanted the familiar words. The veils of light shimmered into existence, and danced around her in a circle, faster and faster. The sweet harmonics each emitted combined to produce a chord more beautiful than any ever heard by human ears. At her signal they stopped, and Taqqiq sank into her trance. She opened her Sight, and as if in a dream, flew from her cave, leaving her body behind her. She flew faster and faster, soon leaving her forest far behind. She flew across great plains, and a wide ocean, the waves flickering beneath her at blinding speed – the speed of thought. It was barely an instant before she reached her destination. Coastline quickly approached, followed by mountains and forests. A great ruined castle loomed before her, perched on a hill above a lake. In the centre of the ruins, she found the Elders, sitting in council, as they did every evening – for where they sat was so distant from Taqqiq's cave that a whole half day had passed there that had not passed at home. Taqqiq's astral form faded into existence in the centre of their circle.
The ten Elders began to murmur when they noticed her, before quietening as the head of the council, Lema Longstaff, the first among equals, stood and addressed Taqqiq.
"Taqqiq of the Western Taiga. Welcome to council." She was a bent and wizened old witch who spoke with a distinct Scandinavian accent, with wisps of snow-white hair blowing about her head in the breeze. "All is well with your … responsibility, I trust?" She pulled her cloak tighter around her as if suddenly cold. Taqqiq waved her insubstantial hand.
"Don't worry, Lema. All is well in that respect. There hasn't even been a slight problem since that English madman tried to steal it 50 years ago. No, I've come about a new issue." The Elders set to muttering again.
Lema shushed them and gestured for Taqqiq to continue. Taqqiq began to relate the story of her finding of Harry, her discovering that he was a Parselmouth, and her finding of his scar.
At this there was uproar. All the Elders began to talk at once, and soon some were on their feet. Lema flicked her wrist, causing the air to crack like a whip. The unruly council members resumed their seats, suitably cowed. Lema addressed Taqqiq again.
"You have become forgetful, Taqqiq," she said good naturedly. "Do you not remember that it was the English madman whom you sent packing who gave the scar to young Harry?"
Taqqiq's eyes widened as she remembered. Of course! She thought. Harry Potter! And then: and Lord Voldemort.
The council discussed the situation for a minute, before reaching a consensus.
"You must care for the boy, and protect him," announced Lema. Taqqiq nodded. "You must also teach him our magics, as your apprentice. He may one day be suitable for the empty position." All present knew to what Lema referred. "Do not forget to train an apprentice for your own position, however."
Taqqiq nodded again and voiced her thanks before her astral form dissolved as she returned to her body.
xxx
Albus Dumbledore reappeared outside the gates of Hogwarts after visiting the Dursleys. After breathing deeply to calm himself, he made his way up the frosty lawn to the castle. It was still early, and, the days being short, the sky was still grey. He entered the school through the main doors, and was immediately confronted by Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts, wearing a tartan dressing gown.
"Is everything all right, Albus? My feather… is there going to be a meeting? Is something wrong?" Minerva on a good day was reasonably difficult to deal with, but a worried Minerva was absolutely formidable.
"Calm yourself, Minerva," said Albus, trying to placate her. "Yes, something disastrous has occurred. Come with me to my office where we can discuss in private."
Minerva nodded, suitably mollified, and followed him up the grand staircase in the direction of his office. After giving the password to the gargoyle, which sprang aside, and climbing the moving staircase, Albus sat down in a comfy armchair beside the fire. Minerva followed suit, taking the spare.
"So, Albus. Tell me…" she began.
Albus held up a hand to stop her, then plunged straight to the point.
"Harry Potter has gone missing." Minerva gasped in shock, putting her hand to her open mouth.
"How?" she whispered.
"While he was on holiday with his relatives, someone caused him to be removed from their custody." At her questioning glance, he continued. "With the Coercion Curse." Minerva gasped again.
"Is he all right? Have you found him?"
"Not quite," answered Albus. "But I know where he is. I believe him to be in the care of an old friend of mine."
"How so?"
"When I was removing the curse, as well as a Memory Charm, from Vernon Dursley, I found a memory of the location at which he had left Harry.
"They abandoned him!" interrupted Minerva. Dumbledore frowned at her before continuing.
"I recognised the place." Now Minerva was silent. "It was near the home of, as I say, an old friend of mine. And if she is like she used to be, then she will have found Harry within minutes of him being left."
"Who is this woman?"
"Her name is Taqqiq. She is a Mamanti." Minerva raised a questioning eyebrow, and Albus sighed. "I'm not surprised that you don't know. Most in this country have forgotten who they are. A Mamanti is a protector. They wield the lightest magics in the defence of the world against the dark."
Minerva frowned. "Then why didn't we receive any assistance from these Mamanti when You-Know-Who was at large?"
"Voldemort, Minerva, Voldemort." Each time he said the name she shuddered. "Each Mamanti is assigned to protect a region. Taqqiq is Mamanti of the Western Taiga – that's most of Canada. The Mamanti for the Islands at the Back of the North Wind, the British Isles, was killed a hundred years ago without leaving an apprentice. The post has been unable to be filled, as a Mamanti must be born in the country they protect – otherwise their power will not be sufficient to completely protect the realm, as being born there grants power while within it. A Mamanti must also train a Mamanti, so the absence of a Mamanti in these islands has meant that potential apprentices have passed by unnoticed. This absence is the reason why the two greatest dark wizards of the last thousand years, Grindelwald and Voldemort, have both been able to gather power while in Britain. And both in the last century."
Minerva contemplated this information. Albus spoke again. "We had better make ready for the meeting. There is some more news I will have to share. The caster of the Coercion was one of our own, or at least we thought he was." Minerva was not slow and she worked it out quickly.
"Not… Diriwell! No, it can't be!"
"I'm afraid it is. I saw a memory in all three of the Dursleys' minds. The proof is incontrovertible."
xxx
The meeting went smoothly. Duncan Diriwell was conspicuously absent, a fact that everyone noted when informed of his betrayal. Albus assured them that he hadn't yet discerned whether he was under the Imperius Curse, or whether he had fallen to the Death Eaters, although he feared the latter. Albus decided not to tell them of Harry's disappearance. He would leave that until he had more information. They discussed the latest movements of Voldemort's followers, who still caused some trouble five years after his apparent death.
As everyone filed out of Albus' office, he beckoned Severus and Minerva aside.
"We need to find Duncan Diriwell. We must discover whether he was under the Imperius Curse or not." He didn't really want to mention the other option.
They agreed and together they walked out of the castle and the grounds, and apparated.
Duncan Diriwell lived in a large town house in a prosperous area of London. It stood on the corner of a quiet square around a small garden, as are common in some areas of central London. Muggle cars were parked all the way around the square against the curb. Albus, Minerva and Severus reappeared in the walled garden, so as to avoid being seen. Severus unlocked the gate to the garden with a silent spell, and they made their way across the road to the tall house. They stopped at the doorstep.
"Right. Listen closely." Albus beckoned the other two close. "He alone will be no match for us. However, if other Death Eaters are also within, and we find ourselves failing, then escape is priority. Our lives are more important than this information. Understand?"
They nodded. Albus tried the door, which was unsurprisingly locked. He tried the same spell that Severus had used on the garden gate but to little effect, although that was also to be expected.
"Stand back," he whispered. He stepped back a pace, before turning his wand on the door again. He cast a Silencing Charm on it, before blowing it inwards, blasting it off its hinges. It made no sound at all, due to Albus' spell. The three picked their way through the wreckage into the dark hallway. Albus peered into a living room to the left, and Severus went ahead, followed by Minerva. She quickly returned, and urgently beckoned Albus through. He followed her into a large kitchen. A fire was still smouldering on the fireplace, with charred remains of paper scattered around it. More papers were strewn across a thickset wooden table, and pots, pans and cutlery cluttered the tiled floor. Albus cast the Homenum Revelio Charm to ascertain whether the house was occupied. It wasn't.
"He obviously left in a hurry," drawled Severus. Albus didn't answer, but leafed through the papers scattered on the table.
"Albus…" called Minerva. She had been inspecting the burnt papers on the fireplace, but was unable to find any legible writing. Albus went over to where she was crouching on the floor. "Look," she said. She pointed to a small pot that lay in two halves on the hard floor. Grey powder covered the floor around it. Albus bent to sniff it. "Floo powder, don't you think?" Asked Minerva. Albus nodded, and Minerva turned back to the fireplace. Albus could see in his mind Diriwell flying about the room in a panic, trying to find the papers to burn, before fleeing through the fire, knocking over the pot of Floo powder in his hurry.
Minerva held her wand inches away from the smouldering embers and muttered a spell. Thank goodness it was still hot, or the spell wouldn't work. The glowing ashes shivered, and began to flurry about on the hearth as if in a high wind. They finally settled, and Minerva leaned forward. In the remains of the fire, written in glowing letters, were the words:
Miller's End
"Well, we know where he went, then," said Severus as he looked over Albus' shoulder
They each scooped up some powder from the pile on the floor, and after Severus re-lit the fire, stepped into it, casting their Floo powder and crying their destination.
They emerged one by one through a small fireplace, and where immediately under fire from the inhabitant of the room.
Duncan Diriwell, a small, nondescript balding man, was cowering behind a disgusting orange armchair on the other side of the dirty sitting-room. He was casting curses over the chair with his stubby wand. Minerva was through first and immediately began to return fire. She transfigured the armchair into a tiger, which leaped at the terrified man. He screamed a spell at it, his wand hand shaking in horror. The tiger dissipated into thick smoke, but by now Severus and Albus were also through the fireplace, and joined in with the duel. The poor man stood no chance, and was quickly overwhelmed. He cast spells wildly, giving into his panic. He had never been a particularly calm man – very given to melodramatics.
"Impedimenta!" He cried, but Severus parried it effectively, and sent a Stunning Spell back at him, which he barely dodged, while spelling a wave a fire at them. Minerva turned it aside easily, before muttering "Expelliarmus," which he failed to block, and she neatly caught his wand as it flew from his hand. Albus immediately stunned him, and Severus conjured ropes to restrain him.
"Minerva," Albus turned to her, as she tucked a stray lock of hair back into her prim bun, "would you secure the house? Check for any further complications?"
"Of course," she replied, and with a muttered "Homenum Revelio", began her protective enchantments as she searched the house.
Meanwhile, Albus and Severus were reviving Diriwell. The dishevelled man was still incapacitated by Severus' bindings, and lay on the ground glancing between the two with furtive eyes.
"Oh, Duncan," sighed Dumbledore. "What made you do it?" He looked into his eyes. Realising what Albus was trying to do, the captive shut his eyes tight and shook his head about, avoiding the prying gaze. Severus halted his movements with a spell, and prized open his frightened eyes. Albus delved into his memories. But he could see nothing. Every way he turned, memories evaded his search. They flitted beyond his senses, and he could not catch them. He came across sturdy barriers, and completely irrelevant memories were placed in his way to hinder him. Occlumency. Duncan Diriwell's one true talent.
"Severus!" muttered Albus. "I need your help." The sallow man too looked into Diriwell's eyes. He joined forces with Albus' mental probe. Together they pushed against Diriwell's mental shields, working together to catch fleeing memories, and throwing both their minds against his barriers. Together they prevailed, and they could read his thoughts. He had been tempted with promises of power, and a high position in the ranks of the Death Eaters once Voldemort returned. The Death Eaters obviously believed this a possibility, it seemed. Duncan had always been rather weak-willed. Neither Albus nor Severus recognised the Death Eater in the memories, and Severus had not heard of such a plot, so it was apparently a private plot hatched, it seemed, in order to gain favour with the Dark Lord once he returned.
Albus and Severus withdrew from his mind, and stood, solemnly. Albus turned to Severus.
"I'll call for the Aurors."
When he heard that, Diriwell began to scream in horror and strained against his bonds with renewed vigour.
"You won't send me there. Not Azkaban! Not the Dementors!"
"You should have thought of the consequences of your actions, Duncan," said Albus sadly.
But the bound man continued to cry out.
"You won't, you won't!" And then he began to rapidly garble an incantation. Minerva returned to the room, having finished her search, and the wand that she had taken from him began to glow, recognising the spells of its former master. Too late they realised what he was doing, and although Minerva tried to bind the magic of the wand she held, there was no stopping the magic once it had begun to take effect. With a bright flash of light, Diriwell's hasty chant ceased in an instant. His struggles stopped, and his body fell limp. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his breathing was silenced. Severus knelt to feel for a pulse. He looked up at Minerva and Albus and shook his head. Duncan Diriwell had killed himself. Out of respect for the man who had once been their friend, Minerva laid his wand on his chest and folded his limp arms over it. They conjured a coffin around the body, and sadly retuned to Hogwarts.
AN: Thank you very much to my reviewers!
To 456snarky: I hope things are beginning to be explained. I'm aware that I've introduced further unexplained things… they will be resolved soon, don't worry! :D
Please continue to review – I would love to know peoples' thoughts on my story