Disclaimer: Not mine.
Wanting More
Chapter 10
It was almost morning when the candles burst into flame and Minerva came running into the room clutching her robe closed with one hand, her wand in the other. Rosmerta sat up and watched her old Transfiguration Professor conjure a small carpetbag into which she crammed the clothing that came levitating in behind her.
"Hurry, your shoes… now," Minerva ordered as the door flew open and Albus ran in, followed by a large wizard who had his wand already pulled and began checking for traces of magic that did not belong.
"Child," Albus said as he hurried to her. "This is Alastor Moody. He is a loyal and trusted friend, as well as an Auror. You need to leave with him at once."
"What is happening?" she asked as Minerva yanked her up and Alastor picked up the bag Minerva had packed.
"No time, Albus," Alastor nodded to the window, "they are on the grounds."
Rosmerta ran to the window and saw her stepfather and Grigori walking quickly towards Hogwarts.
"They can't force me out. They cannot. I won't go."
Alastor took the cloak Minerva had held out, and threw it at Rosmerta. "Can when you are declared incompetent by the Ministry. Now put that on, damned cold out there tonight."
He walked behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, nodded to Albus and left in a crack of thunder.
"Show off," Minerva sniffed as the returned the blanket to the cupboard and quickly set a tray with morning tea out. "Sit down Albus, and do try to be polite."
"It will be unseemly if we are found together in your office, dressed as we are."
"Not as unseemly as being caught with her, now sit. Let them have a rumour worth while," she smirked and reached behind her head to realise her hair, letting it fall down her shoulders. She knew the only way to account for the lights in her window at three in the morning would be something made so blatantly outrageous it would be impossible not to believe it. She calmly poured two cups of tea and leaned back, pulling her robe tightly around her, laughing at the light blue and yellow nightshirt Albus was attempting to cover with his own robe.
.
.
.
Rosmerta had never apparated with a wizard as strong as Alastor Moody. When they arrived in his sitting room, she fell to her knees and gasped for air.
"If you're going to hurl, head out back." He took a step back from her and chuckled. "Albus said he had a young lady needed helping, didn't think he meant a baby."
"Shut up, Alastor, that's you name, right?" She stayed on all fours, dragging in deep breaths.
"Auror Moody to you." He leaned down and looked at her carefully. "Well, you are going to toss up or not?"
"Mr. Shite-Faced-Pig you mean." She fought to clear her head. "Son of a cow, stupid Auror –still-in-training… what the fuck do you call that?"
"Apparation. Ever hear of it?" He snorted.
"You need to go back to Hogwarts you ox. Where did you learn to travel?" Rosmerta finally managed to slide back and sit on her heels.
"See this?" He pulled up his pant leg and pointed to a scar that ran from his knee to his ankle. "Got that leaving too slow. Won't happen again I can tell you that."
Rosmerta suddenly lost the fight, leaned forward and vomited onto the carpet.
Yeah," she said wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "See that? You got that leaving too fast."
He started laughing and quickly cleaned it up, then redirected his wand to his liquor cabinet. "Drink a little, settle that stomach."
"I'll pass," she spat, then crawled to the sofa and pulled herself up until she could sit on it.
Moody poured himself a half a glass of whiskey, looked back at her and poured her the same. Handing it to her, he grabbed a small pillow, tossed it on a chair and gingerly sat down.
"You hurt?" She bit her lip when he grimaced.
"Do you carry more than one wand?" he muttered.
"Umm, no… should I?"
"There are spells, locator spells, and sometimes just … Lumos… you know, dangerous spells."
"You're crazy. Lumos is not dangerous unless you light your nose instead of your wand."
"It is if your second wand is in your pocket, you got two dark wizards in front of you, and no light to speak of."
Rosmerta looked at him strangely, then, as he adjusted himself in the chair, tucking the pillow under his left cheek she began to laugh. "So… You're only a half-arsed Auror then?"
"Drink your whiskey, it'll warm you, and I got something to tell you." He scowled, all trace of humour gone.
"You think?" She swallowed the content of the glass in one gulp, and put it down on the small end table.
"You've been living with Rookwood?"
"Staying with him, yes. Living with him, watch your self, you go too far."
"He is being watched, and by association so are you."
"Watched? I don't understand. He works at the Ministry same as you. Who is watching him?"
"Albus Dumbledore."
She stood and stared at him, walked to the bottle and poured another. "Why?"
"In time," he said evenly and leaned back in his chair. "Tell me of Yaxley."
"What do you want Moody?"
"I want to know what you are to him."
"Nothing."
"Then why is he after you? Why was there just a hearing, in the middle of the night, to declare you incompetent? Why is your stepfather as we speak searching for you? And why was your mother killed not 30 minutes ago?"
Rosmerta put out her hand to purchase the table. She could not place the sound of breaking glass, or the deep voice that called her name. She could not understand the blackness shimmering on the edges of her vision as she felt her knees waver. Falling to the floor, the table tipping on top of her, the glasses and whiskey smashing of the floor, all she could think of was Augustus was not here to catch her this time.
.
.
"How was I supposed to know? Bloody hell, Minerva, I have never had to tell a witch her mother was dead. How do you normally do it?"
"Oh Alastor, even you cannot be this stupid." She pressed a cold cloth to Rosmerta's head. "There, there child, just lay still, you have had quite a shock."
Standing, she grabbed Moody's arm and dragged him to the far side of the room. "Albus wanted to talk to her, now we must wait. Make sure she …"
"She isn't staying here," Moody snapped. "You may not understand this, but I have a reputation to …"
"Oh shut up." Minerva swatted his arm. "The only reputation you have is the one St. Mungo's has given you. That scandal with the medi-witches is still going around."
"Overrated I assure you."
"Now, be nice to her, let her sleep. I have put a few potions out. Give her one now, and one when she wakes again, and the third, before she goes to bed tonight."
Moody waited until Minerva left then smirked and pointed his wand at the potions, levitated them to the fireplace and watched, timing how long it took before the small vials to explode. Scowling at Rosmerta, he took up his place in his chair again.
"Won't do you good to sleep through it girl. You'll just have to face it later. Face it now and put it behind. You got to keep going."
She wiped her eyes and sat up to look at him. "How? Mum, how did… how."
"What ya want me to say? She died in her sleep? All comfy, calling for you? No? She died at the end of Riddles wand. His way of warning Yaxley."
"I… I don't …"
"Not much to understand. When Yaxley lost you, Riddle lost what he wanted. By killing her he killed Yaxley's chances of winning you back at the same time leaving you alive for future use."
"When… I don't understand any of this," she said tearfully.
"It may be tomorrow, it may take years, but trust me, he will have use for you again."
"Olivia didn't do anything wrong," she whispered, letting her tears fall freely. "She just wanted to have a home. I understand why she … I'm sorry, I don't mean to bore you with my problems…but it's…. She was still my mother."
"So, you talking to me about the party you went to, or are we pretending none of that happened?"
"What do you need to know?"
"Everything. From the floor plan to how many stairs there are to the second floor. Who was there, who wore the black robes, the number of doors off the ballroom. Down to how the bar as set up and what they were serving. Anything and everything you saw."
"Fine." She nodded her head. "Can you remember it, or you writing this down?"
He filled fourteen pages of parchment before he told her to stop. He shook the cramp from his hand and looked at her suspiciously, not believing she could remember all this from only one trip to the manor. She assured him she could, and started by telling him about each picture that hung on the wall behind her, until he called a halt to the display. Using an Accio, he called for more parchment and started again, filling seven more before she slowed.
"Do you need to know about the gowns? Other then Bellatrix's they were quite ordinary, beautiful, but … hers was different. She had pockets around the upper arm of each sleeve, long thin pockets, make to look like pleats, and …"
"I don't need a fashion…"
"No? Two were longer then the others, one on each arm that is. Just the right size for extra wands. I remember thinking it strange on an evening gown she would worry about carrying two more wands, she already had one in her sleeve, it must be a 13 inch at least because it showed at her elbow. She also wore… lace ups, boots as it is… most strange with the gown. I remember thinking it odd. She wore small heels on them, but soundless, charmed no doubt."
Moody looked at her and pulled another sheet of parchment, and began to take notes on dresses and shoes. As an Auror, he wanted to know about witches with extra wands, and where they may be kept.
They also filled pages of conversation. Not what she thought she heard, but the exact wording that he wanted. At noon a tray of sandwiches appeared, and was taken away untouched. By six Moody's stomach was protesting the treatment it was receiving and at eight even Rosmerta wanted to stop.
"Where's the kitchen?" she asked. "I'm hungry."
"Are you done?"
"Unless you want to know about what the towels looked like that the elves wore, and they weren't, they wear monogrammed pillow cases, off white with green threads, satin stitch I think it is called. Now feed me."
"Got a kitchen, but I don't know if there is anything to cook. I go out mostly."
"Then go out to the Market. You want something to eat or not?"
"Listen girly, you are here because Albus…"
"My name is Rosmerta. Not girly," she seethed. "I have been propositioned, dragged to Merlin only knows what of a party, nearly raped, had my jaw broken, my mother killed, and apparated with an idiot of an Auror, all with in the last 24 hours. I own the clothes on my back, have no place to go, no job, and will not, I repeat, will not listen to your swill about how witches are not as good as wizards. You got that?"
"She'll do, Albus," he smirked as he looked over her shoulder at Albus Dumbledore.
"What the…" She spun around to look at the Headmaster.
"He was testing you child," Albus said kindly. "Alastor has a tendency to be rather… frank."
Rosmerta snatched the sack that Albus held up to her and peering inside, grinning and walking into the kitchen to begin cooking.
"You're lucky I'm hungry." She pushed past Moody on her way out.
"You're the lucky one," he growled.
"Oh, I don't think so," she said, her voice carrying back to the living room. "Moody! When was the last time you cooked in here?"
Alastor looked at Albus sheepishly and shrugged. "So I don't cook."
"He doesn't clean either." Rosmerta walked back in tapping her wand on the palm of her hand. "What? You think I'm an elf? I won't clean the loo either, and right now the loo is cleaner."
Albus snapped his fingers and two elves appeared that listened to his orders and happily ran to clean. Smiling at Rosmerta, Albus then sat down on the sofa, indicating that Rosmerta do the same.
"Now, what to do with you," Albus mused.
"My Mum, Olivia? Will she be..." Rosmerta lowered her head, feeling the tears again threaten to start.
"I have made arrangements for the burial. However, I am afraid it would be unwise for you to attend the services."
She nodded and sighed loudly. "I figured that by the way you got me here so fast. What happens now?"
"As predicted, the Ministry is looking into the matter of her accident. I am sure nothing more will come of it."
"I thought you were one of the head judges? Why can't you do something?"
"I can only speak if the case is brought to trial, until that time I must remain silent," he explained. "The question before us now is you."
Rosmerta folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, looking form one wizard to the other.
"He wants you back in with them," Moody said. "Wants you … close. Sort of… in there to tell us what goes on and what you see."
"Oh no, you don't," she spat. "You don't even hint that I do that. You have no idea what that Malfoy place was like. Its…Headmaster, the wizards expect … I won't do it. I may as well work upstairs and charge for it than walk in …"
"No one is asking you to do that, girly." Moody frowned at her. "Where'd you get that idea? Just get it out of that empty thing you got sitting on your shoulders."
"Alastor, we don't need…." Albus tried.
"Empty? You half-arsed fool. How'd you get to be an Auror? I swear you…"
"Enough!" Albus thundered. "If we are to be successful the two of you must …"
"Can't say I blame her, Albus." Moody scowled at Rosmerta. "She is too young to take care of herself with that lot. Now shut up, girly, let me finish. We had an idea of what happens to witches at their meetings. We did not know about Bellatrix or that the wives were there when these things went on. Got it all written down, you may want to look it over."
"Rosmerta," Albus sighed. "I am going to ask you to talk to Alastor about Augustus. Things he may have disclosed, innocent things he may have said to you that may be of great importance. Your mother was not the first person that they have done this to."
"I don't understand," Rosmerta looked from one to the other. "If you know what is happening up there can't you just …just stop it?"
Albus sighed loudly and shook his head. "The only way to insure we are successful is to know everyone that is involved and sweep them all in at once, at a place we know Riddle to be. He is powerful, child. Very powerful, and I am afraid as of yet we have been unable to be more than a thorn in his side. His ranks are swelling, unbeknownst by most."
"What does he want? I mean…. I know he wants power. Augustus said it was a political group. Do they want to … change laws?"
"Augustus was correct in saying he wants power. However, not for political reasons. He means to take over the Ministry and put himself in charge of this world, ridding it of all that oppose him."
"Muggle born? Grigori seemed to dislike them and said it was their fault jobs are hard to…"
"Alastor," Albus interrupted as he stood. "We need to know how far this goes. Rosmerta my dear, I trust you will be comfortable here. My friend has more questions for you."