The Sparrow Suite
A/N: Hello everyone! Yes, this chapter is being released much later than I had initially anticipated but work has been extremely hectic. However, it is in this installment that a new divergent path sets forth. In my original posting of this story, I had planned a Forbidden Forest mystery. If you read to the end of the chapter, you'll see the seeds of it there. Also, thanks for the views, reviews, favorites, and follows! All are tremendously encouraging and truly makes my day!
Chapter 9: The Danse Macabre (or the Dance of Death)
"So are you guys together or not?" Neville shook the Petri dish in his hands, the pods he had just extracted from the nearby Snargaluff cracking against each other loudly.
"I don't know," Charlie said. He had his hands on his hips and wondered if he had dramatized his own theatrics by cornering Neville in the greenhouses at midnight to talk about Hermione. "We had this long chat in the Owlery a couple of nights ago. Last Friday to be exact."
"About what?"
"I was trying to see if she fancied me or not," Charlie replied quietly. Normally, his cheeks would've grown ripe red for being so candid about chasing a girl nearly seven years younger than himself with Neville, a bloke he liked but didn't really know. However, he couldn't find the time to practically care at the moment. He had more pressing matters to attend to and questions that needed to be answered.
"Well, what'd she say?"
He shook his head, "Nothing. I asked her what she wanted to do and all she did was grab my hand. We then went down to dinner together without saying a word."
Neville regarded him curiously for a moment, the stars beyond the glassed walls of the greenhouses like a chaotic jewelry jubilee. "I've never seen you two holding hands."
"Because that was the only time she did it," Charlie responded. He was exasperated. "What does that mean, grabbing my hand once and never afterwards? That she fancied me then but not now?" He then added to himself, "Maybe she's having second thoughts on everything." He looked over and saw an empty pot sitting on a bench close by. It looked to be bottomless.
"I hate to tell you that I don't have much of an understanding when it comes to girls," Neville nearly whispered. He was jostling around the Snargaluff pods again. They rang together shrilly. "I had my Gran, but that's it."
This broke Charlie out of his stupor thinking how well Hermione's hand had fit in his. "You've never been together with anyone before?"
"Not really," he said. "I mean, I've been on again off again with Hannah Abbott. She was in my year in Hufflepuff. She's training to be a Healer, you know."
"Yeah? And what have you guys done together?" Charlie wondered if he could feed off of Neville's own relationship woes as a precursor to what he could possibly expect with Hermione.
"I don't know, we went on a few dates, I guess, but nothing more than that. She didn't want me to come to Hogwarts, actually."
"Why's that?" Charlie had his arms crossed over his chest.
"Because she knew she wouldn't be able to see me as often. When I was in Auror training, we saw each other every night. And it was fun for a while but the thought of teaching Herbology excited me more than being with her."
"You let her down easy, didn't you?"
He shrugged. "We've been writing to each other every day and she seems fine. In fact, I'm going to see her in Hogsmeade this weekend. You know, just to have a spot of lunch." He frowned, then suggested, "How about you take Hermione out?"
"Come again," Charlie blinked. His mind had crept away from him, hypothesizing on how soft Hermione's lips were and how they would feel against his. If Hermione was in the greenhouses with him now instead of Neville, he doubted he would have any self-control to stop himself from snogging her senseless. Midnight did strange things to him.
"Why don't you take Hermione on a date to Hogsmeade? As professors, we're allowed to leave grounds whenever we want."
"You're not suggesting Madam Puddifoot's, are you?"
"That tea shop where all the couples go," Neville asked for clarification. When Charlie nodded, he shrugged, "Wherever, really. The place doesn't matter. All that does is you spending time with her."
"What if she says no?"
"I thought you said you were willing to try something with her?" Neville stared over at Charlie.
"Yeah but what if she doesn't want anything to do with me? It's like I said: She hasn't exactly been open with how she feels. Sometimes, I think she likes this little tug-of-war between us. She's just afraid of what'll happen if I win."
"You don't know if you never try," Neville told him. "You can visit the greenhouses at midnight all you want but remember that the plants need sunlight to grow."
Charlie snorted. "That was quite philosophical."
He shrugged in return. "It was what Professor Sprout used to tell me."
Charlie glanced over at Neville to see him playing with the pods again.
"D'you think she'd say yes?"
"Well, she does seem to like you," Neville supplied. "It seems to me she's waiting for you to take the first step."
"And what if I never did?"
"Please don't even try to convince yourself of that. That's just tasteless. You like her, she probably likes you. What else is there to know? There's the possibility she might turn you down but so what?"
"What do you mean so what? That's a worse-case scenario!"
"Don't worry," Neville waved away. "I'm sure it's not a likely one."
Charlie did have to admit that Neville made a fair point. Yes, Hermione said that she was attracted to him (a tidbit Charlie refrained from informing Neville of) but that didn't mean she wanted to date him. Her hesitation in the Owlery was more than enough to let Charlie know that perhaps Hermione regretted all she told him. To him, however, it wasn't enough.
As he left the greenhouses, the stars overhead lighting him a path, he figured he had a pair of balls for something. And that something was for him to go up to Hermione and ask her on a date. Yet, even thinking of doing so made his stomach squirm uncomfortably. He felt he was being thrown from side to side on a rocking ship in the middle of the ocean. Who knows what would happen if he tipped over the side and fell into the water.
When Charlie entered back in his room, a brown Horned owl was knocking on his window with its beak. He recognized this as Harry's. Stymied, Charlie waved his wand to let the bird in. He flew over to Charlie, dropped off a single scroll of parchment, and left. Unfurling it, he read in Ginny's handwriting: Three Broomsticks, 7 tomorrow night.
A cold spell hung like a cloud over Charlie as he made his way to the Three Broomsticks. He had just finished dinner when he pulled on a grey, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans that had bred several burn marks on them. A cobalt blue warred across the sky as Charlie entered the inn, a mob of voices assaulting his ears. Looking around, he spotted Ginny tucked against a corner. He twisted his way through a maze of tables, tripping over the leg of a chair that held a burly wizard. The burly wizard, however, appeared to be drunk for when he fell on the floor, a gale of laughter left him while deepening streams of tears poured down his face. His comrades pointed and hooted, pounding their fists on the table.
It's only seven, Charlie thought to himself, slightly shaking his head. Back at the dragon reserve in Romania, there was an unspoken rule amongst the handlers that under no circumstances whatsoever were you to get pissed before ten. Why? Charlie didn't know but it was the only law they lived by.
"Hey, Ginny," Charlie greeted when he had reached her.
"No trouble getting out of the castle," she asked as he took the seat across from her.
"Not at all," was his reply, remembering what Neville had told him the previous night. "So what's up? You barely said anything in your note yesterday."
Instead of answering, she posed, "You want anything? A Butterbeer, maybe?"
"Just tell me what's going on, Ginny. Tonight's a school night and I have classes to teach in the morning." He sat back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest, and waited.
She stared over the table at him rather accusingly but didn't say anything right away. She was straining his patience. Charlie though held her gaze, already knowing the topic of discussion.
"Hermione and I have been sending letters back and forth ever since she left for Hogwarts. I asked her to keep me updated on how things were going because I was worried."
"About what?" he cut across.
"You and her," Ginny answered icily. "And it turns out I was right."
Charlie felt as if she had flipped on the switch that activated his anger. "You mind getting to the point a bit quicker?"
"I warned you about messing around with her," she told him quietly. "And I made the mistake thinking you actually understood." She shook her head and scoffed. "I'm not sure what you said in making Hermione think you liked her but it has to stop."
"Hermione's a big girl. She can take care of herself."
"I know she is but I know you, too. You're going to end up hurting her, Charlie. Your reputation bedding women speaks for itself. I mean, I already told how many conversations I heard you and Bill had when I was younger. And sometimes it sounded like you were proud of the fact of many of them you shagged. It was disgusting then and it still is now. I won't let you do that to my best friend, I can't."
"So what are you going to do about it? Kick over the can so she can see what's inside?"
"It crossed my mind," Ginny responded coolly.
"Well, I usually hate to burst your bubble but in this case, I don't mind it so much: Hermione knows. I told her."
"And you just expect me to believe that?" Ginny managed a harsh laugh.
"You can believe whatever you want," Charlie shrugged. "But it's the truth. Ask Hermione yourself if you want solid proof."
"Why are you being this way," she asked bitterly. "Just a couple of weeks you couldn't stand to be in the same room as her."
"Things change," he answered shortly. "Not that it concerns you."
"It does since you are my brother and Hermione is my friend."
"So you care about her more than about me. Is that it?" He didn't know why but this rather offended him.
"I didn't say that," she said. "But I know you can take care of yourself."
"Are you insinuating Hermione can't? Because if so, that's some strong faith you have in her."
Ginny paused, her Butterbeer left untouched before her and her hands in her lap. Though they were of blood relation, Charlie wouldn't put it past Ginny to whip a hex over the table at him if he pushed her too far. He wouldn't dare to return the favor in fear that if his mum found out, it would mean his head. The infamous Weasley temper had a legend to live up to, after all, from all parties involved.
"Do you like her?" Ginny's tone was clipped but Charlie ignored it.
"That's one way of putting it," he responded.
"What's changed then? Why the sudden interest in Hermione?"
Charlie's gaze skirted over to her drink for no reason at all. He wasn't avoiding her gaze but trying to think of answers to the questions he had been asking himself for nearly a week now. He was just was perplexed but this sudden change in him as Ginny was. It was bizarre to say the least.
"I dunno," he sighed, scratching away at his ear. "I don't have a clear-cut answer but you can bet all that hair on your head that I'm trying to find one." Ginny remained silent. "Is that what you're so angry about? You think I'm leading Hermione on?"
"When you see it from my point of view, that's what it looks like you're doing. Think about it: You spent the first half of the summer ignoring the fact that she existed, and you fought with her the entire second half. Then, after you guys come to Hogwarts, away from the family if I might add, you take a sudden interest in her."
"I'm surprised you don't give your friend more credit where it's due," he said. Before she could plan her reply, he added, "What was that then when you told her that I'm a good guy but patience is needed around me?"
She looked surprised. "Were you eavesdropping on us?"
"No," he shook his head, feeling a blush flame up his neck. "Neville told me."
"And how does he know?"
"Hermione told him."
Ginny rolled her eyes but answered nonetheless, "You are a good guy when you want to be. You are to me at least…most of the time."
"And what about that patience bit?"
Ginny sighed. "I meant that she needed only a little patience when you finally turned the corner of maturity and stopped fighting with her all the time. She hated the fact that you guys were always at each other's throats." Ginny must've detected a fleeting emotion in Charlie's eyes for she pointed her finger and tacked on, "Oh, don't tell me you liked it!"
"Maybe a little," he shrugged.
"Why?" She looked so confused it was almost comical.
"She was different from everyone else," he answered simply. "She is different from everyone else. All these other girls I'd been with before…they were fun in bed but outside of that, nothing was there. You know what I mean?"
"Maybe a little," she nodded slightly. "But that doesn't explain the fact why you just didn't talk to her instead of yelling at her all the time."
"We didn't yell at each other all the time-," he began but was interrupted.
"Fine, then most of the time," Ginny corrected.
Charlie thought about this for a split second before he told her, "That's how we learned to communicate."
"What does that mean?"
"I remember Hermione, back when I first met her the summer of the Quidditch World Cup and the second time at Bill's wedding. I know she was there when Harry defeated Voldemort but for one reason or another, I didn't commit it to memory. Anyway, all those times we ran into each other before, I didn't think much of her mainly because she was a lot younger than me."
"Seven years isn't that big of a gap," Ginny inserted.
"It is when it defines a witch who isn't of age yet to a wizard who is," Charlie returned. Ginny shrugged her response. "When I came back over the summer, she'd changed. Well, it goes without saying that everyone did really but I noticed her the most. Actually, I didn't even recognize her at first. That's probably where my feelings for her first started and I hadn't even realized it yet. That day she broke my nose gave me my first opportunity to talk to her."
At this, Ginny snorted loudly, drawing the ire from two elderly witches at a nearby table. "You could've talked to her anytime you wanted. You didn't have to wait for something to happen before then."
"I felt like I did," he said.
"So what if she never did break your nose? You would've gone about ignoring her the rest of the summer?"
"I never ignored her," he retorted.
"Oh, really? So what would you call it when one person completely disregards another?" she snapped.
"I didn't completely disregard her," he defended. "All I said was that I never made to talk to her."
"And her breaking your nose somehow changed that?" Ginny looked dubious.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I wanted an apology so I stormed over to her. From then on, that's how we communicated."
"That makes very little sense," Ginny stated.
"But that's how it is," Charlie said. "Listen, I also find it strange that my feelings for Hermione changed in the way they have. I think about it all the time. But I like her. I like her a lot."
Ginny looked over at him, listening to his every word. Her demeanor was more at ease as opposed to when Charlie first entered The Three Broomsticks. And though he was rather insulted his sister deemed his infatuation with Hermione anything but honorary, he did admire the fact that she was willing to stick up for her friend in such a strong way.
"It's just hard to believe," Ginny commented. "These sudden turn of events. It's not like you."
"I know," he conceded gently. "And I agree completely. But that's just how it happened."
"Promise me something, Charlie."
"What?"
"Promise me you won't hurt her," Ginny conditioned.
Charlie, however, read through her words. With his eyes boring into hers, he asked, "There's something else going on with Hermione, isn't there?"
Ginny's failure to hold his gaze was an answer unto itself.
"What is it?" he pressed.
"I can't tell you," she shook her head. "That's private."
"It doesn't have anything to do with me, does it?"
"No," Ginny shook her head. "It's nothing like that." Charlie waited for her to continue but she remained tight-lipped.
Folding his hands in his lap, he decided to let the matter go and instead said, "I promise I won't hurt her."
"You mean that, right?"
"My wand and everything else," he nodded. However, he then thought of another question to ask her. "You didn't tell the family about me and Hermione, did you?"
"Are you insinuating you two are going to be a couple soon," she managed to smile. "Because nothing has happened between you and her." She finally took a sip of her Butterbeer.
"Well, nothing yet but I'm going to ask her out on a date," he said.
At this, Ginny began choking on her drink. She hacked loudly into her first while the two elderly witches looked scandalized.
"This younger lot has been bred by dogs," Charlie heard one of them say.
"Are you…Are you serious?" Her look was one of immense surprise.
"Yeah, why?" She shrugged. "You're not going to try and lecture me out of it, are you?"
"Not unless you plan on sleeping with her afterwards. If that's your only goal, I'll take whatever's left after Hermione gets through with you."
Charlie barked with laughter. After he finished, he shook his head and told her, "I don't plan on that. Hermione deserves better."
Ginny was quiet for a moment, growing serious in the meantime, and then said, "You really like her, don't you?"
"More than I ever thought I would," he remarked. He then looked over at her and warned, "Not a word to anyone, yeah?"
"Keep your lid on, I haven't said anything to anyone except Harry."
"Harry? What'd you tell him for?"
"Excuse me if you forgot but Harry is my husband! I wouldn't keep anything from him. Besides, you don't have to worry. He would keep something like this to himself."
"Fine," Charlie backhanded the air. "Just make sure you two keep this to yourselves. I don't want Bill catching wind of anything and especially mum. You know how she can be."
"She might faint from the fact that you actually found someone," Ginny smiled.
"But she won't found out, will she?" Charlie quirked up a brow at his sister.
"Don't worry," she replied. "Your secret's safe with me."
After they said their goodbyes, Ginny apparated out of Hogsmeade while Charlie began his trek back to Hogwarts. Black carpeted the sky while ponds of yellow light from passing shops deluged his steps. His thoughts went back to his conversation with Ginny and how he had to justify to her his true intentions with Hermione. Was it too much for her to believe that he now liked the witch he had been at war with since the summer? Apparently it was enough to warrant a visit from his little sister with promises and threats.
Of course, he understood that all Ginny was doing was watching out for her friend. But did she honestly think that all Charlie wanted to do was shag Hermione? If he was to be truthful, the thought did cross his mind on more than once occasion but he was willing to wait when Hermione was ready for it. And quite honestly, the thought of snogging her frequented his mind more than sex.
"Charlie," a familiar voice suddenly called out from behind him.
He turned and was startled to see the bird of his dreams coming towards him.
"Hermione," he managed. He saw that she was wearing a white shirt covered by light, purple top and dark pants.
"What're you doing here," they asked each other at the same time. They then both laughed as Charlie gestured for her to go first.
"I was at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop," she said, and help up a bag Charlie hadn't seen before. "I was running low on ink."
"Correcting a lot of homework mistakes from your students," he posed.
"Something like that," she returned making Charlie grin widely. "So what brings you to Hogsmeade on a school night?"
"The Three Broomsticks," he jerked his thumb in the direction of the inn. "I met with Ginny."
"Ginny?" Hermione looked around to see if she was anywhere to be found. "She was here?"
Charlie nodded. "Why? Did you have something to say to her?"
"Not anything that couldn't be said in a letter," she shook her head. "But it would've been nice to see her."
"She didn't stay very long. Not even an hour, actually," he told her.
"Did she ask to meet you?"
"She sent me a one-liner a little after midnight," he replied.
"It must've been urgent," Hermione stated. "What did you guys talk about?"
"A little of this and a little of that," Charlie answered. It was complete guesswork if Ginny wanted Hermione to know what it was she and Charlie conversed of. He wagered Ginny wouldn't mind though Hermione was another issue entirely.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Hermione said.
"It's not that," he licked his lips. "I just don't know how you'd take it."
Hermione gazed quizzically at him. Random villagers passed by behind her.
"Ginny thought I was leading you on," he sighed after a moment. "She didn't think I actually liked you."
"What did you tell her?" He noticed Hermione was gripping her bag from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop tightly.
"The truth," he shrugged. His words made her smile slightly. "And speaking of the truth," he continued on, "you still haven't given me an answer on what you think about giving us a chance." Before she could find her reply, he held up his hands, and said, "Wait, wait, wait. That's not what I meant to say." He closed his eyes and shook his head. He breathed deeply in and deeply out. When he opened them again, he found Hermione trying to stifle a laugh.
"What's so funny," he asked. However, he too was trying to fight a grin that was working its way across his face.
"I don't know," she responded. "Sometimes I find you amusing."
"Sometimes," he repeated.
"Yes, sometimes," she finalized.
"Well, I guess I'll take that for now but what I wanted to ask you was if you would like to go on a date with me this weekend." He held his breath when he finished, anxiously waiting for her reply. He knew he didn't ask her in the most formal of ways (he had planned to concoct a strategy for that on his walk up to the castle) but then again, he didn't anticipate on running into Hermione in Hogsmeade when he was woefully unprepared.
Time seemed to stretch on forever between them as Hermione contemplated her answer. A hive of butterflies nestled in the pit of Charlie's stomach. He was glad he hadn't accepted that Butterbeer from Ginny.
"A date," she posed lightly. Charlie nodded. "Where did you want to go?"
"Is that a yes?" Charlie felt his brows pull together.
When Hermione nodded, happiness exploded inside of Charlie. The butterflies rioted about his stomach.
"Did you want to grab dinner in Hogsmeade?"
"No," Charlie shook his head. "I had something else in mind."
"And what's that?"
"Something you'll find out this weekend," he shrugged. And taking the initiative, he grabbed her bag from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.
"Charlie, you don't have to-," Hermione began to protest but Charlie cut across her.
"It's fine," he said. "It isn't heavy." He grinned when he saw Hermione huff. "Did you want to head back or did you have other shops you wanted to visit?"
"We should go," she suggested. "We both have classes tomorrow."
He nodded as he eyed her hand and took it, gently entwining his fingers with her own. He knew it was a daring move to make but at that moment in time, he felt rather bold in his endeavors. They walked in silence back towards Hogwarts, a cool air wading over them. Charlie relished his closeness with Hermione and the physical contact they shared together. It was intimate.
When they passed through the front gates, Charlie and Hermione stopped short at the sight that met their eyes: A long line of house-elves were making their way out of the front doors of the castle. Leading the procession was a plump elf that sat cross-legged atop a circular carpet, it floating in midair. Two other elves trooped behind him, carrying small, flaming torches in their hands while a bag in the size of a small ball floated between them.
Charlie and Hermione rushed forward across the dark lawns. They saw a nervous-looking Oxy bringing up the tail-end of the line.
"Oxy," Charlie asked, a bit breathless from his sprint, "what's going on here?"
"Master, Missus," he squeaked. "You's shouldn't be here! You's shouldn't be here!" He broke away from the march and tried to push Charlie and Hermione into the castle. It was a futile effort on the elf's part for he was too small to move either of them.
"What're you," Charlie paused to catch his breath, "what're you talking about?"
Oxy looked back over his shoulder worriedly. Charlie followed his gaze and saw the fat elf at the front had already disappeared into the Forbidden Forest. An orange glow emitting from the blazing brackets behind him highlighted a golden robe he was wearing.
Charlie stared at it and then back down at Oxy. He then put the two together. "That's Berry, isn't it?" Oxy didn't answer but instead visibly shuttered. "Hermione, look over there," Charlie pointed. "That elf wearing the golden robe, that's Berry. He's the one that took Oxy's clothes."
"You's shouldn't be here, Master and Missus, you's shouldn't be here!" Oxy was looking frantic now. The Forbidden Forest had already swallowed half the line of elves.
"Oxy, why are all the house-elves going into the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione asked.
He looked to be on the verge of tears, his large, tennis-ball shaped eyes swimming in them. He then whispered up, "Master and Missus, follow Oxy but do not be seen! Do not be seen!" He then peeled away from them, his little legs carrying him as fast as they would go.
Without hesitation, Charlie pulled out his wand and pointed it at Hermione's purchases she had made in Hogsmeade. The bag shrunk down so that it fit in the palm of his hand. He pocketed it. He turned to Hermione and suggested, "The Disillusionment charm should work, yeah?" When she nodded, he tapped the top of her head with his wand. Her body soon vanished and blended in with her surroundings. Charlie repeated this action on himself. "Here, take my hand."
"Where is it," he heard her ask.
He blindly reached in the direction her voice came from, first grabbing her shoulder, then her arm, and finally her hand. "Didn't think it would be so hard to find you," he commented softly to her. "C'mon, let's go." The pair then raced off after Oxy. His tiny form had just disappeared behind the front line of the trees.
A chilly breeze whipped over them as they entered the Forbidden Forest. The branches overhead gossiped together. Far ahead of him, Charlie could just make out twin glows of orange fire. He thought about lighting his wand but considered Oxy's warning for him and Hermione to not be seen.
"Where do you think it is we're going," Hermione whispered softly in his ear. Her cool breath tickled his cheek.
"Dunno," he murmured back. "But don't let go of my hand, alright?"
"I have my wand with me, you know."
"Still, we should stay together," Charlie told her quietly, squeezing her hand as he did so. Ever since they had set foot in the Forbidden Forest, the need to protect Hermione had greatly consumed him. He didn't know why this instinct took hold of him as he knew Hermione was quite capable of handling herself. Yet, the further and further they crept through the trees, this need persisted and even heightened to a degree. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, shielding her body from whatever might target them. He was hungry in making sure no harm came to her.
Charlie and Hermione walked behind Oxy, he and the other elves nothing but moving shadows before them. The convoy continued on in silence, winding its way deeper and deeper into the dark depths of the forest. They passed over a skinny creek that snaked its way into and out of a neighborhood of trees. The water slithered through it smoothly. The branches crowded above them, obstructing the night sky from view. Here and there, a lone twig would snap, the sound echoing into the black labyrinth they were in.
Charlie leaned over and asked Hermione softly, "Are you okay?" He felt her arm brush his.
"Yeah," she responded though when she said this, her hand squeezed his. He returned it. "How much longer do you think we'll be?"
Charlie shrugged then remembered Hermione couldn't see him. "I'm not sure," was his reply. "Did you want to turn around?"
"No," she said. "And even if I did, do you honestly think we'd find our way back on our own?"
"Have you ever been this far in the forest before?"
"Once but that was back in fifth-year," she replied.
Charlie grew curious at this but was refrained from asking when his shirt was ensnared by a thick bush of thorns. He pulled and tugged for freedom and cursed when it wasn't given to him.
"Here," he heard Hermione say. He then saw her wand hover in midair before a small jet of yellow sparks flew out of it. In the next instant, Charlie's shirt was released.
"Thanks," he said to her. "Not sure why I didn't think of that."
They continued on, fighting their way through a heavy underbrush, both Charlie and Hermione getting stuck numerous times in it. Charlie envied the house-elves who were so small that they were able to crawl underneath it, or in Berry's case, float over it.
Suddenly, the path they were on trekked downwards at an incline. At the bottom, it spilled out on a squared plot of dirt which was framed by a city of trees that stretched up into the darkness and out of sight. Charlie then saw a small cauldron situated in the middle of the patch as the house-elves looped around it.
"Bring him forward," a deep voice boomed. Charlie looked around and saw Berry loom over the cauldron. He was still sitting cross-legged on his floating carpet. For the first time, Charlie was able to get a good look at Berry the house-elf: He was stocky, much more so than the rest of the elves at Hogwarts as his arms and shoulders were thick in muscle. His head, however, was disproportioned with the rest of his body as it seemed too small for it. His eyes were as big as Oxy's but as black as the night is before the dawn. His nose was short and flat while his mouth was nothing but a thin line. Berry also had no hair but remained bald. The top of his head was shiny as if it had just been primed. Most importantly was that Berry was still wearing Oxy's golden robe. The circular bag that Charlie had seen before was set on the ground and opened. He recoiled, however, when he saw the body of a dead elf inside it. The smell was putrid. He heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath beside him.
"Set him in," Berry nodded towards the cauldron. The two elves that acted as morticians picked up the bag by its sides and catapulted the dead body inside the pot. It landed with sickening thump.
"Prepare the revival," Berry ordered next. The elves snapped their fingers making a dozen vials of potions appear out of thin air. Charlie was impressed by their magic. They then scrambled about, emptying each flask into the cauldron. Sizzles and hisses and whooshes ripped into the still air while a kaleidoscope of colors emanated from within. The pot was now flooded to its brim as the body of the dead elf floated around face-down inside it.
Without another word, Berry snapped his fingers, igniting a fire at the base of the pot. Flames soon licked up its sides as the elves nearest to it stepped back, some tripping over others. Oxy had turned completely around and was in a frenzy looking for Charlie and Hermione. The surface of the cauldron then bubbled menacingly as the dead elf's body sunk underneath the potion mixture as if it had been dragged downwards. The pot then emitted jets of what looked like blood, sending the elves in a panic. They began to run around with their skinny arms over their heads, trying to avoid the onslaught. A great many of them ran into each other and fell over while others took shelter behind the barks of the nearby trees. Their heads poked out from behind them to witness the chaos.
Through it all, Charlie saw that Berry was unperturbed. In fact, he was still situated over the cauldron, his carpet flinging to the left and right to avoid the spews of blood. His eyes were closed but his mouth was moving. However, Charlie couldn't hear what he was saying for anarchy still reigned over the elves.
"Oh, this is awful," he heard Hermione say. "We have to stop it." She made to pull her hand out of his but he maintained a strong grip.
"Wait a second," Charlie replied. "We don't know what it is they're doing yet."
"But they're all so scared!"
"I know, I know," he tried to placate. "But let's just see what happens."
They didn't have to wait much longer for the noises abruptly stopped, the surface of the cauldron stilled, and the ejecting of blood ceased. Ever so slowly, the elves that had scattered returned to the clearing while those that had fallen over picked themselves back up.
"Come forth, Saucey," Berry commanded loudly. He held out his arms in front of him as if he was expected to catch something.
Charlie's gaze was then diverted to the pot as its top layer broke. He was stunned to see the elf that was surely dead only moments ago emerge out of the cauldron. Yet, when Saucey found his way to the ground, Charlie saw that the life that had left him upon his death had not returned: The elf was aged greatly. His silver hair stretched down to his skinny ankles while his skin was heavily wrinkled, resembling cracked leather. His eyes were ghostly white and lifeless. But Charlie took more of a notice of the state the house-elf happened to be in: Bubbles of blood belched out of his tiny body, making him shake uncontrollably as his spinal cord was grotesquely sticking out of his back, piercing its skin. All of his fingers were bent oddly, looking broken while one of his ears was missing completely. The other had raw flesh oozing out of it.
"What in the bloody hell," Charlie stated. He felt Hermione shudder beside him for he pulled her against his chest. He wrapped his arms protectively around her body, hugging her to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and positioned her head directly under his chin.
"I can't watch," she said quietly against him.
Some of the house-elves were shielding their eyes while others hid behind their neighbors. Oxy, unfortunately, had seemed to wet himself. Through it all, Berry didn't seem the least bit affected.
"Saucey," he thundered but stopped suddenly for the resurrected elf leaned forward, his spinal column ripping further out of its back, and violently vomited black phlegm over his feet. A nearby elf fainted at the sight. Oxy looked to be next. The smell that had risen from the dispelled mucus was horrid.
"Saucey," Berry started once again though now his voice sounded as if he had a stuffed nasal passage for he was pinching his nose closed. "Given the Doctrine of the Federation of House-Elves at Hogwarts, page two-hundred and ninety-seven, passage eighty-eight, paragraph forty-three, and asterisk two, you are to venture beyond the veil!" Berry pointed behind him and between two broad trees, Charlie saw it: An ancient archway that looked as if it might crumble at any second. It was hung with a worn, black curtain that trembled ever so slightly seeming as if it had just been touched. Charlie also thought he heard a mumble of voices from behind it.
As he continued to gaze at it, Hermione gasped so loudly that even Berry's attention was diverted from the revived house-elf passing through the veil.
A/N: Well, what did you think? Let me know with a review if you wish!
