~9 Peeping Tom~
There were definitely parts of the library where neither Madam Pince nor the elves set foot. I don't mind a little dust though, except when it whirls around and me passing by the shelves wasn't going to destroy the dust's doze. I settled myself in a window-seat with a book which neither the Malfoy library nor Tahl's could boast to have and I was reading peacefully when I heard footsteps. I hoped they weren't Lockhart's.
´It can't have been that bad?´
´Ow!´ a second voice replied, ´As if I was some...´
Women's voices.
´What? What are you pointing at?´
´The floor! One of those insects... A cockroach, as if I was some cockroach!´
´We're in the library Pomona.´
´Sorry,´ professor Sprout said in a softer voice, ´But a cockroach Minerva!´
The footsteps came to a halt. This part of the library was built like a maze and the professors wouldn't interrupt me any time soon. And if they did, I would play Focused Reader.
´They behaved as if I was less than them. And his mother made a remark about my tights. And they were fine tights!´
´I'm sure they were.´
´I wore the white ones, with the little pink flowers?´
Professor McGonagall made an appreciative sound. Witches!
´Have you seen the boy?´
´For a moment. He seemed uncomfortable. His parents kept saying that they didn't think it was safe for him at Hogwarts because of the ghosts and the Wheeping Willow and everything. They hired a private teacher to prepare him for Eton. Some sort of school I guess. He's missed weeks of proper classes already. It will be hard for him to fit into the second year. What am I to do? I thought of asking the headmaster to have a word with the boy's parents but he seems not to be himself these days, wouldn't you agree?´
´Uhm. Aren't the Finch-Fletchleys muggle aristocrates?´
´What a marvelous idea Minerva!´
´Well I'm sure that I -´ McGonagall started, but she stopped in midsentence when her colleague said: ´I hope she will help me.´
Silence.
´You think she won't Minerva?´
McGonagall cleared her throat.
´There's a HAC today isn't there?´ Sprout asked.
The she was I! It seemed a bit late to announce my presence...
´Oh, I'm sure she'll do it!´ Sprout decided, ´After all she really takes an interest in the muggleborn students.´
´Yes... But to my opinion she shouldn't interfere with the way the school is run. Suggesting to invite the muggleborn first year students to talk about their experiences in our world... The idea! As if children can't adapt to new situations.´
Some leaves of a book were being turned over.
´Albus voiced that it might set the muggle borns apart from the rest and she had the nerve to say that the system of Houses sets the pupils apart from one another,´ McGonagall said.
´Well I -´
´She asked him whether it wouldn't be a good idea to talk to the muggle parents as well. To give them an idea of what the school is about. I mean!´
´Well there must a great many questions those parents have.´
´None of them ever complained about a lack of information, did they? It's not this book.´
´But if they'd known a little more, perhaps they wouldn't think Hogwarts was a dangerous place? Like the Finch-Fletchleys?´
´Could you hand me that book please Pomona?´
´Here you are. You know, they say she's part Veela.´
McGonagall snorted. ´She'd wish! It's an urban legend Pomona. Just how she single wandly -´
Sprout giggled.
´- changed The Flower Garden. It's absurd!´
´The students are enthusiastic about the drama classes...´
´Aren't they? I've watched one of her classes. I have to admit that she handles them well.´
Now that was praise indeed!
´But she refuses to wear a hat,´ McGonagall complained.
´Why are you so against her Minerva?´ Sprout shyly asked.
´I'm not!´ McGonagall cleared her throat before softly continuing: ´I just wonder what she's up to. She's a Black!´
´Androme-´
´Her sister was an exception to the rule. And let's not forget who her husband is. Ah! Here it is.´
´Do you think that he caused her concussion? Lucius Malfoy that is? By beating her?´
I guessed McGonagall was reading and that she merely shook her head in reply, for Sprout asked: ´Why not?´
´Well, he's alive for a start.´
Sprout giggled. I smirked.
´Do you have any books to collect Pomona?´
´No I don't.´
The professors left.
I stared at my library book.
Two evenings ago Lucius and I had dined in Violet in The Garden and in between the delicious courses several people came to have a chat. One of them told us, in the hushed voice of someone who has News to reveal, that the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was said to have visited Crouch's house. I'd innocently suggested that they might be friends, to which Lucius's acquintance replied that Mrs Bones had brought several employees with her.
It had taken Dumbledore nearly three weeks to act after I'd fed him information but then... I suppose Rome wasn't built in a day. I myself hadn't yet managed to persuade Mrs Bones to offer Veritaserum to the prisoners. Besides, I was the last person to criticize someone on the subject of taking action: for the past weeks I'd allowed myself to be distracted by my out-of-school activities. I'd always wanted to direct and I loved doing it: working with children was very likeable. I'd meant everything I'd said about informing muggleborns and – to a certain extent – their parents about the magical world, but the main reason why I'd offered to host meetings of the muggleborn students was that it would prevent me from doing scary things such as confronting Dumbledore or finding Narcissa. Though I'd done some impressive magic, the fact that I believed to have reached my limits as a witch had turned me into a overall coward. Damn!
´Penny for your thoughts?´
I looked up from my reverie.
´Severus!´
´I didn't scare you did I?´
´I will merely admit being startled,´ I smiled, pleased with the distraction.
A corner of his mouth turned upwards.
´Have a seat,´ I invited.
He sat down next to me.
´Isn't the Malfoy library more comfortable than this one?´
´This book,´ I said, tabbing it, ´isn't part of Lucius's library.´
´Ah,´ he replied.
The thought of Lucius made me sigh inwardly. It was hard to relax in his company. I avoided him as best as I could. Spending a lot of time at school was the kindest way to do so, as was going out together in public.
´I forgot to mention this before, but thank you for your birthday card,´ Severus said.
´You're welcome. Have you thought of a gift yet?´
´I have several months to think of that.´
´What do you mean?´
´It's in January.´
´I thought it was the first of September.´
´January 9.´
´Great,´ I mumbled. ´This is embarrassing.´ Why had the idea that Severus' birthday was on the same say as the start of Hogwarts's year settled in my brain?
´No, that would be using a fork to eat soup.´
His deadpan expression made me smile. ´Why do you teach Severus?´
´Why – . Because. I like potions.´
´You dislike children. You could have become an apothecary or you might have started a potions shop.´
´I'm bound to this place,´ Severus solemny said, making it appear as if he were joking.
´Just like professor Trelawney,´ I stated.
Severus gave me an odd look. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. To give himself something to do, he checked his watch. I glanced at it too.
´In twenty minutes the rehearsals will begin!´ I exclaimed, rising to my feet. ´I have some preparations to do. What about the two of us had tea and a muffin at Bergstrom's? For your previous birthday I can at least gift you with time away from school.´
Severus inclined his head.
OoOoO
Approaching my closet-like office I found Neville Longbottom waiting for me.
´May I have a w-word with you p- p- please?´
´Of course you may Neville,´ I replied. The fact that I called the children by their names instead of saying Mister or Miss had caused McGonagall to have a word with me. I suppose it would be funny to address eleven year olds in a formal way but it was equally silly. When I'd told Gryffindor's Head that I could hardly call my son Mr Malfoy, she'd reluctantly agreed with me and I hadn't reminded her of the fact that none of the other players were related to me.
After we'd entered and the boy had seated himself he said: ´I have to return my part.´
´I'm sorry to hear that! You have potential as a player Neville.´
He shyly grinned.
´I like acting,´ he shrugged, looking at the floor. ´It's just that... My grandmother you see. She...´
´Is she afraid the rehearsals take too much time?´
Neville cleared his throat. ´I wanted to prove that I could combine it. And I did. My grades didn't go down. So I told her.´
I remained silent. It made him continue: ´I wrote that I had auditioned and that I got a part. And that there were only two second year students who got one.´
I smiled, he blushed.
´And I told grandma that you are our director. And she...´
He wiped his hands on his robe.
Finally it dawned on me.
´Grandma didn't... She forbade me to... She was really upset.´
´Has she told you why she doesn't want you to work with me?´
The boy shook his head.
´I can imagine that Mrs Longbottom dislikes me. You see... You know what happened to your parents don't you?´
Tensing, he nodded. ´They're in hospital.´
I didn't reply.
´They were hurt and they lost their minds,´ he slowly continued.
´Neville, one of the sadists who tortured your parents was my sister Bellatrix.´
His mouth fell open.
´I don't know whether I should have told you this before... It never crossed my mind.´
Silence.
´You didn't help her did you?´ he said in a begging tone of voice.
´Never,´ I said with all the conviction I could master.
He relaxed. ´So grandma shouldn't blame you.´
´She lost her son and her daughter-in-law at my sibling's hands. I understand that she holds a -´
´I don't. You're not evil. You're...´ His cheeks turned pink and he rose. ´I will write my grandma that I don't care for what she says and - ´
´Your grandmother is hurt by her loss. It wouldn't do to make her feel worse little one.´
The boy turned around and pretended to use his large handkerchief to wipe his nose.
´What if I told her that I really like acting,´ he said in a stifled voice. ´Cause I do. And that you told me that you had nothing to do with what happened to my mum and dad. And that I know you'll never hurt me.´
There was a knock on the door.
´Just a moment please!´ I called out.
´Should she persist, promise me that you'll talk about it with professor McGonagall. I would be happy to talk to Mrs Longbottom myself, but I doubt she will let me. The Head of your House will surely be listened to.´
´Thank you. But I'll deal with grandma myself first.´
His knightly pose made me smile.
´You're a brave boy Neville. I can see why the Hat selected you for Gryffindor.´
He giggled.
´Will you owl your grandmother?´
He nodded.
´And will I see you in the main hall in twenty minutes?´
He nodded again, obviously relieved and after adding an audible reply he left to allow my next visitor to enter: surprise, surprise it was professor Sprout.
She explained the Finch-Fletchley situation and I agreed to visit Justin's parents. After she left I scolded myself. Act woman! Do something useful for a change!
OoOoO
Professor Sprout had arranged for me to meet the Finch-Fletchers the next morning already. At my request she had owled her pupil to inform him about me. After all: he and I had to cooperate.
As I was waiting to be admitted to the Finchs' drawing room I heard someone – Justin's mother presumably – say: ´What is she wearing Davies? Purple tights with yellow dots on it?´
´No ma'am.´
´A Mickey Mouse sweater?´
´Not quite ma'am.´
´Let her in Davies,´ a male voice said.
The four people in the room casually remained seated when I click-clacked toward them. A boy of about twelve years old was the only one to look over his shoulder. His anxious expression turned into a relieved one. He rose and greeted me, deftly using my title: ´Lady Malfoy! How do you do. I'm Justin. These are my parents -´
The magic word 'lady' had gotten the other two males to their feet.
´Ma'am,´ Justin's father took over, ´I am pleased to meet you. Let me introduce myself. Richard Finch-Fletcher, my wife, baroness Jane, and our elder son John.´
´The pleasure is mine,´ I said. Greetings were exchanged and we sat down. The baroness – for all her blue blood – needed a moment to recover from the disappointment of finding her visitor dressed in Givency. ´You have a lovely garden,´ I told her with a smile.
We chatted about the usual appropriate subjects until tea was served. When the lady of the house handed me a cup, I told her that the Head of Justin's House had told me all about him.
´I am new at Hogwarts you see,´ I explained. ´I started a theatre class. The pupils call it the HAC: the Hogwarts's Acting Class.´
´I was a bit of an actor myself at university, as is John now,' the master of the house said. 'Will you enact a play?´
´We've started the rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet.´
´Really?´ Justin's mother exclaimed, ´I so favour out-of-school activities.´
´I absolutely agree with you. It's what makes us think fondly of our days at school, isn't it?´
´Did you go to Hogwarts as well?´
´Yes I did, as did my husband.´
´Was it safe then?´ the baroness asked while her husband gazed at my legs.
´Yes it was. And it still is,´ I bluffed, ´I can assure you that if it wasn't safe, I wouldn't have sent my own son to Hogwarts.´
The baron and his wife exchanged a glance. I sipped my tea.
´So there's aristocracy in the wizarding world too is there?´ the baroness asked.
I gave her a conspiritual smile: ´Of course there is!´
The baron laughed and his wife sighed happily.
'Are you and Lady Malfoy's son friends Just?´ brother John asked.
I quickly came to the boy's help: ´They are in different Houses. And we all recall the competition between Houses, don't we?´
´Wonderful, wonderful!´ the baron exclaimed. ´Those were the days.´
He looked at his wife.
Sensing that the parents needed to talk things over in private I asked them whether they minded if I had a look at a piece of art on the terrace.
´Not at all ma'am,´ the baron said, ´Justin, John, show her ladyship the statue will you?´
The three of us went outside where we admired the art as well as the potted plants and some gargoyles high above. To his brother's embarresment John told me about what the family now understood to be an early sign of Justin's wizardry.
´Haha,´ his father interupted us as he joined us, ´that's a nice story isn't it? Yes son,´ he addressed his youngest child, ´you're our little wizard!´ His expression turned serious. ´Now listen Justin, your mother and I have talked this over and we concluded that the situation at Hogwarts isn't as bad as you made us believe it was.´
Justin was about to object to his father's version of the truth, but I caught his eye and shook my head ever so slightly. He lowered his gaze to the ground, appearing to be a remorseful boy. His father told him to go packing.
I accompanied Justin to his room, to collect his ready-to-carry trunk. As I seized (and weighed) it down until it fit in my bag, I heard a voice say: ´Hungry´. It couldn't have been Justin who was talking about having missed a lot of classes. He was so happy at being allowed to return to Hogwarts, that he voiced his worries with a smile on his face. I said something reassuring while looking around for the source of the voice.
Noticing a terranium I slowly approached it. For weeks now I'd kept an open ear for the Basilisk and I'd told myself that either Parseltongue was something one was born with (as the books said), or that I wasn't powerful enough to hear it even if a snake was lisping straight into my ear (as I suspected).
Could it be that the Basilisk simply was the silent type?
´That's Suzy,´ Justin said, walking toward me.
´Have you fed her recently?´
The boy gave it a thought and admitted that it had been a while.
´Who will feed her when you're at school?´
´I'll ask Davies. He fed her last year. Mother can't stand snakes you see and father is afraid of reptiles. I'll ask Davies straight away. And I'll get some food too.´
The boy left and I stared at the snail, unblinking. It had never entered my mind to talk to the Basilisk. Was it because Harry hadn't done so either? How stupid of me! I took a deep breath.
´Greetings,´ I said. It sounded like English to me.
´Greetings,´ the snake called Suzy replied.
My breath got caught in my thoat. Supercalifragili-sticexpialidocious!
´Food is on its way.´
´No kill,´ the animal said.
´Humans prefer their meat dead on their plates,´ I explained.
The snake didn't reply. Well, what had I expected? Except in the Bible, Jungle Book and the fictional world of Harry Potter, a snake is a snake is a snake. Hunt, digest, sleep. They don't exactly create plays in between now do they? I recalled from The Philosopher's stone that the Basilisk, though he was a fantastic creature, wasn't too eloquent either.
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay. It's supercalifragili-sticexpialidocious!
Justin returned with a drumstick. Smiling brightly I asked the boy whether he already had bought his school books. He tore his gaze away from the terranium where the meat awaited an attack of sorts.
´Oh no! How am I -´
´I'll take you to the Alley,´ I said.
Downstairs Justin informed his parents about my offer.
´Oh would you?´ Justin's mother exclaimed. ´Thank you Lady Malfoy. Last year we took Justin there and it is not the sort of place where a child can wander alone. There were some rather...´
She struggled to find a neutral description. ´Special people walking that street.´
She casually handed her son a thick wallet and asked me whether the Ford in front of the mansion was mine. I confirmed this though the car was Lucius's. The driver was employed by one of the Malfoy firms.
OoOoO
Sooner than was to be expected Justin and I found ourselves in front of the Leaky Cauldron where a grateful Professor Sprout relieved me of my charge.
Feeling pleased with myself and radiantly confident, I asked the driver if it was possible to wait for me. He nodded as if parking a car on Charing Cross Road was a perfectly normal thing to do. I hurried to the hotel where I'd signed the contract that had me imprisoned in this world. For the I don't know how-manieth time I tried to remember whether there had been anything strange when I'd entered the hotel for the first time. Had I stepped into a hotel in muggle London or had the lawyer walked into a hotel outside his world? Or was muggle London the real London and was Rowling a witch who got out of the closet?
Once inside I asked to see Mr Daniels. The receptionist checked his PC and informed me that there was no one by that name staying at the hotel.
´Oh I'm sorry. He is not a guest. He is the general manager.´
´Daniels you said? David Alfred Nelly Isaac Edward London Samuel?´
I nodded.
´I'm sorry ma'am, but there's no one by that name employed here.´
´Perhaps he left? I'm quite sure he worked here some weeks ago.´
´No ma'am, I would know. I'm sorry.´
I was already on my way to the exit when a thought came up. I returned to the receptionist.
´Ma'am,´ he said, ever so polite.
´I'm sorry to bother you again, but is there a waiter working here with lots of hair?´ I said, wriggling my fingers on either side of my head.
The receptionist suppressed a smile and nodded discretely, looking over my left shoulder. I turned my head. There he was: the man who'd brought me a glass of water. He looked exactly like he had on the day it had all started.
Not explaining my curiousity I again thanked the hotel employee and returned to the car.
´Where to ma'am?´ the driver asked.
´King's Road please.´
After my first Hollywood film I'd bought an apartment in Chelsea, even though my friends believed that Covent Garden was the place to be and my family tried to make me buy something in South Kensington.
A little while later on I walked toward my apartment, enjoying having to fight a strong wind.
Would the building be there? Might Narcissa have been kidnapped to muggle London with a concussion of her own, thinking wizards didn't exist? It was unlikely, yet I had to check.
The building was there all right up to the small brass name plates at its entrance. Behind number fourteen it read John Julius Dexter. I wished Dumbledore were present, so I could pull the man's beard. Hard.
´Can I help you lass?´ a man in his fifties asked me. He was unknown to me yet he'd stepped outside to collect his mail as if he actually lived here.
I told him that a friend had given me directions to his house but that I was afraid I hadn't recalled them correctly.
´What's his name?´
´Mr Herbert Jacobi,´ I told him. The extravagant Herbert had lived in my building since 1977.
´Don't know him, sorry.´
I checked the mailboxes and nodded.
´Got his number?´ the man said. ´Wanna make a call?´
´I've got my cell phone with me, thank you.´
´A cell phone eh? Well good luck lass.´
I made a mental note to tell Lucius to invest in Nokia. Sometimes I dislike myself, but then: good clear thinking goes a long way. I walked back to the car.
In the muggle world the number of cell phones would show me what year it was: my year or the book's year. You never knew: the contract's magic might wear off and I could suddenly be back home.
´Right!´ I commented my own silliness.
I caught my reflection in a window.
I looked lovely.
I felt murderous.
A nice snakeskin bag would be just the thing to brighten me up.
