Chapter nine- Tal y Cafn (March 1997) Part 1

Hand on the plate glass of the window, Verity watched as they passed from England into Wales.

The enchanted road map she'd picked up from a bookshop in Diagon Alley lay open on her lap, a small dot showed them the route that they ought to be taking and Verity traced the winding lanes of the motorway with her fingers.

"Muggles did all this!" said Verity looking outside. "They're a clever bunch, all things considered aren't they?"

"That's vaguely patronising," said Simon, his dark brow furrowed and his mouth in a very set frown. Verity slumped back into the chair and turned around to look at Hannah, who was nestled into the back and playing with the safety belt- seeing how far she could pull it and watching it snap back.

Upon further inspection she noticed that her little sister had taken on a distinctly peaky look- her face grey and her lips dry and cracked.

"You okay, Hans?"

Hannah nodded woozily. "It's like the Hogwarts express isn't it? Only smaller," Simon switched lanes sharply and Hannah was jerked sideways with a little 'oof', "And a bit more…movey."

"Do you think you might be able to go a little slower?" asked Verity turning to Simon who shook his head irritably.

"We're already going bloody slow." Outside of the window, an old woman in a box car outstripped them by miles. "Sorry, but if we go any slower then the police might actually pull us over."

"Hannah isn't feeling too good," said Verity softly.

"Travel sickness," said Simon, "Look Hannah, just keep staring right ahead at a fixed point and try not to think about it okay?"

Hannah nodded and scrunched up her face as she looked at the horizon, which seemed to suggest that this motorway thing was never ending. Verity was fascinated to say the least- with the motor way and also the car radio, fiddling between static and music with interest. Simon finally broke his ill mood and declared that it was like driving with 'bloody children'.

It took far longer than Verity had expected. They passed through Wales after a stop at a Muggle service station for lunch and so Simon could fill up the car with 'Petril' and finally they were in a hair's breadth of the place where this house was supposed to be.

A road sign announced 'Tal y Cafn' and either sides of the narrow road were thickets and bracken, the low lying land running next to a large lake. The wild daffodils poked through the mist and Verity got the impression that it would be an awfully lovely place, where the fog not so thick on the ground for this time of year.

"Grandad said you have to go past the pub, the house is called The Sett," Hannah said, unpeeling herself from the car window where she had been resting her head. The Dog and Duck was a typical country muggle pub, with buttermilk coloured walls on the outside, the letters of it's name in gold and greenery in the window boxes.

"Are you sure?" frowned Simon, as he drove past the pub. There was nothing but fields and more fog, he craned his head to see if he could see any such house poking through the fog as the road reached a dead end.

"Stop here then," said Hannah, not looking nearly so worried as Simon.

"Don't tell me I drove four and a half hours for a made up place," he said bitterly, put he pulled the car into the car park of The Dog and Duck. Outside, the cold Welsh air was downright savage as it nipped at them, the sky a melancholic sort of grey and the lights from the pub a dim yellow amid the fog, she pulled her jacket around her and looked around. Simon joined her, the scepticism written quite clearly on his dark face.

"Well I can't see anything," he announced to the cold air. Leaning on the car he slammed it shut with some vigour and, while muttering angrily to himself he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "What the hell do you propose we do now?"

Verity smiled and let out a breathy laugh before plucking the lit cigarette from between his fingers and taking a quick toke. "Simon, how long have you been a wizard?" Hannah smiled at him too, which made Simon's frown that little bit deeper.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, then maybe you should remember that things aren't always what they appear," said Verity with a little knowing smile.

Of course, in truth, Verity herself was a little bit baffled at why they couldn't see The Sett, but there were so many things in the world she'd grown up in designed to fool the eye and trick the senses- it made sense that this place would simply be another one of them. And if Hannah wasn't worried then Verity wasn't going to be either.

Simon breathed out heavily and shook his head. "More cryptic bullshit."

"I'd have thought that you'd love all of that. Working in the department of mysteries and everything. You reckon we should ask in the pub?"

"Wouldn't hurt," shrugged Hannah. "I mean, it could work like Diagon Alley."

Simon shook his head, "No. No, you're forgetting that this is quite clearly a muggle pub. With muggles in it. We'll just get looked at funny."

"We'd get looked at funny with that ugly face of yours whatever happened," teased Verity twining her fingers between Simon's. "Come on."

The interior of the pub was cosy and warm, red carpets with gold swirling shapes lined the floors and frayed at the edge of the doors when they walked in, suggesting that it had been well trodden over the years. The walls were adorned with varies black and white (totally unmoving) pictures of the country side which clearly hadn't changed much over a hundred years, along with an odd array of stuffed squirrels arranged into positions on mantles and on dead bits of wood.

Behind the bar, pulling a large pint of bitter was a lean elderly man, the clear plastic spectles he wore were like thick milk bottles making his eyes look disconcertingly large while wispy grey hairs congregated in odd spaces about his face, around the sides of his head and also into large whiskery side burns and a very think, almost pathetic pencilly moustache. Simon was right though, he looked very Muggle- he wore an England football t-shirt over his longsleeved undershirt and fretted over the money that a punter handled him with a few solemn words that Verity couldn't hear.

But Hannah, of course, had gotten it into her head that she was going to find this place tonight and the small problem of being shouted at by a strange welsh muggle was of no consequence to her, she was at the bar before Verity had time to blink and trail after her, Simon following.

"You haff I.d?" said the barman when he saw them, his eyes on Hannah who with her round pretty face of course did not look eighteen. Nestled in between the Welsh accent was the stirrings of something possibly eastern European, Russian maybe.

"Um, no," said Hannah, a little confused.

"No one under eighteen at the bloody bar," he said gruffly, with a jerk of his thumb. "Hop eet."

Hannah turned to Verity, "I don't…what do we do?"

Simon sighed and looked at them, "I knew this was stupid. I'll get some drinks and we can figure out what we do next okay?" he flashed his driving licence casually at the barman. "Do you want a coke or something Hannah?"

"Huh?"

"It's a muggle fizzy drink," said Verity before Simon hissed a savage 'shh' at them. The elderly pub landlord was still looking at them with his large round eyes and Verity was sure that was some rule that she'd broken. Simon ordered a coke for Hannah, a beer for himself and a glass of wine for Verity.

As he poured her a glass, Verity felt those strange eyes almost scanning her with some kind of x-ray vision and when he was given his money (Simon was clever enough to have brought a bit of muggle currency with him, ) the old man said to Simon, "It has been a long time since any of your lot has come in here, boy."

"Yes well," said Simon stiffly, with an odd expression like he was fighting not to punch the old man "I'm from London. Not stopping." And stalking off to a table at the far end of the pub he slumped in his chair mumbling, "Racist old git," under his breath.

"He probably just meant English people."

Hannah was oogling her coke after taking the first sip.

"What…flavour is this supposed to be?"

"It's…" Simon shrugged, "It's coke flavour. Look we might as well go on to the hotel, it's getting dark."

"But we haven't found The Sett yet," said Hannah looking at Verity with a heartbroken expression. "Verity, Granddad said it would be here!"

Verity placed a finger on her temples and sighed, wondering how on earth she could phrase Shadrach Abbott's tendency to exaggerate into something that wouldn't utterly crush her little sister. "Hannah…Granddad can sometimes…" but in an act of mercy her words were cut short by the reappearance of the barkeep that Simon had so taken to.

"We're alright here, mate," said Simon holding up his glass to signify that he wasn't finished, he took Verity's hand and the grip was oddly tight.

"I said before," he said, ignoring Simon's voice and speaking in hushed tones. "It has been a very long time since I have seen your sort."

"Yes well, don't worry we won't be long. I'd just like to finish the drink I paid for," snapped Simon and Verity flashed him a warning look.

"I do not like your tone, sonny," sniffed the bar tender.

"Well I don't like yours," countered Simon. "Your sort? You think I don't know what that means?"

"Vat?" said the man sharply, his accent more discernable now. "I see the bloody vand in your back pocket and I hear you speak of muggles. I am not mistaken on these things, no?"

Simon blinked, clearly knocked for six while Hannah exchanged a triumphant, hopeful sort of look with Verity and leaned forward excitedly. "No, you aren't mistaken. Are you…too?"

"I am a squib, I have vorked in this bloody pub for almost sixty years," he said with an element of pride. "But I see you and I can spot it a mile off."

Hannah beamed and looked at him, her eyes very wide and serious. "We're looking for a place called The Sett. My name is Hannah Abbott and my Granddad said.."

And before she could say another word the old man had dropped to his knees, a rather frightening feat considering that he was a very elderly sort and very doddery, crying out "Moja Słoneczko! Moja Słoneczko!" in one shaky, leathery and liver spotted hand he took Hannah's and grazed his thin, dry lips to it.

"Do you think he knows then?" said Verity to Simon.

"I'd say so."

Hannah pulled a chair for the old man who hauled himself up with some effort into the sitting position, still holding Hannah's hand in his own bird like gnarled claw.

"Vester Abbott is your grandmother?"

"My great aunt," said Hannah shyly.

"Ah. Yes. You must drink with me! I have some of the finest wodka," he went to stand but Hannah stopped him, which was all just as well seeing as how Verity wasn't sure how much excitement and jumping around this rather frail man could take. "My name is Jan Dabrowski."

"Mr. Dabrowski, out of interest, how do you know her?" Verity added and the old man looked at her too.

"This is your sister?" he said to Hannah, who nodded. "Yes, I see it. You look most like her, Moja Słoneczko, such a pretty kind face, but this one…I see Vester's chin. Please, call me Jan."

Poor Vester; her chin was rather mannish to say the least.

"I vas a squib in Poland, sixteen years old. My father gets me a job as a cleaner for their ministry and then bloody Grindlwald comes to my country with his army. He killed many muggles and wizards. And they came for my father, put him in Nurmengard and all I can think is that they will do the same to my mother and my sisters and I can do nothing to protect them. But friends say, they will help me- that they know someone who is taking the vizards out of Europe and bringing them here. Your aunt Vester. She takes us here and into her home." He laughed triumphantly. "And my mother and my sisters are not scared any more and we are safe."

"And you've stayed here ever since," said Hannah with a dangerous, romantic sort of look on her face.

"I married a local girl- her father ran this pub in those days and, poor thing she had no way of knowing that I am of magical blood until our first born son, my Marek, uses his magic to make our cat bald!"

"She must have been an amazing woman," said Hannah dreamily and Jan nodded emphatically. Verity placed a hand to her forehead and sighed, as if Hannah needed any more daft ideas put into her head. Bloody Granddad Shadrach.

"It isn't still here, is it? The house?"

Jan nodded again. "No one has lived here for years. But it's still here. In fact," he stood up and Verity could imagine his bones creaking from the groan he elicited. "She asked me to feed the cats vhen she is too sick to do it herself. I have key." He hobbled over to the bar and went into the backroom, fishing around in it for some time as Verity and Simon exchanged looks.

"Well this is a spot of luck isn't it?" said Simon.

"Yes."

"And he seems nice doesn't he?"

"Yes."

"And he's going to give us the keys, just like that, with only a name to go on?"

"Simon, it's an old woman's house for god's sake, Jan is just being hospitable. And you're always on at me for being paranoid."

"I'm just saying," said Simon innocently. "And I know that you're as skeptical as I am."

"Hannah's happy and that's all I care about," snapped Verity.

Her little sister was indeed happy as she took the keys from Jan with the air of one being presented with a gilded trophy. Jan pointed them outside and into the beer garden which was empty due to the fog and the light spittle of rain that had begun to fall. A sad plastic chidren's play set which had seen better days was sat abandoned and mossy at the bottom and running around it was a high brick wall. Nothing much to look at, only when Verity's eyes returned to the wall a second time there was a large black door in it.

"That wasn't there before was it?"

"Nope," said Simon. "Which definitely means we're meant to go through it."

"I told you it was just past the pub," grinned Hannah. As they approached the door, Verity noted that it was set in iron and cool to the touch, though there were animals and shapes in it. She traced the shapes and the door creaked open very slowly.

On the other side of the wall was more greenery, though it was overgrown and the fog that spilled out was very thick indeed. Verity felt something rather ominous in the cool air of the fog but Hannah was through it before Verity had time to voice her concerns and if Hannah went through then Verity had to follow.

Once Simon had gone through, the door shut and was gone. The fog all around them grew thicker still, it almost seemed to block out the sky.

But it was there, she could make it out. The house- not to far from them, a pretty cottage the color of buttercups surrounded by a white picket fence, too bright and cheerful when surrounded by so much fog. There were weeds and thorns at her feet and something like disappointment coursed through her.

Maybe she'd expected a bit more from Vester's house, something more like hope in these dark times. That was kind of what this house had become to her and Hannah, the hope that someone could come through a darker time such as Grindlewald's Britain with the courage and the light to safe people. The darkness surrounding them only seemed thicker now.

"Well, we should go in I suppose," said Simon with the same sort of disappointed look that Verity felt when they reached the front gate.

"Why?" said a voice from behind them. A sad, heartbroken little voice from somewhere in the fog. "What's the point?"

"Hannah?" said Verity, straining her eyes in all the fog. Taking her wand out of the muggle bag she'd hidden it in, Verity cast lumos and was able to locate Hannah, sitting on the grass and leaning against the picket fence, her arms gripping around her knees. "Hannah what's wrong?"

"Why are we here, Vez?" choked Hannah softly. "So Aunt Vester managed to save a few lives- no one saved our Mum." She let out a dry sob and Verity felt something squeezing on her heart. She didn't want to see Hannah like this, it was like all the light was draining out of her and in turn Verity. Hannah was her baby sister and yes, their mother was dead.

"She was alone," said Hannah in a whisper. "The last time I saw her she was waving me goodbye and I'll never see her again."

Verity wanted to tell her that they would talk about it at the hotel, that now wasn't the time. But when would be a good time? Sinking to her knees besides Hannah, Verity tucked her head into her little sisters shoulder. The last time Verity had seen her mother was the morning before her death, at breakfast, Verity had rushed in late for work and grabbed some toast and hurried out a goodbye. The last goodbye. She should have made it last longer, made it better. And then she was dead. Verity could hear it, that auror, the sound of her father crying.

Miss Abbott, earlier this morning- your mother was found. Healers were called to attend to her but it was too late, she was pronounced dead at the scene- we believe it was the killing curse.

Verity gripped hard onto Hannah, but she could hardly feel her beneath her fingers. There was nothing but the fog surrounding her, surrounding her brain and Verity didn't feel as though she could ever be happy again.

"Verity! Verity get up," a voice was shouting in her ear, pulling at her and tugging desperately. But what was the point? Everything was going to die, this stupid war would kill them all. "Verity you have to get up. I think it's Dementors."

Simon was pulling her up and forcing her wand in her hand. It did nothing to take away the strange sinking feeling in her gut or the words of that auror on the worst day of her life but she gripped it and gripped on to Simon. He ducked down to Hannah too, and forced her to clamp around her own wand.

They came out of the darkness then, two Dementors- she remembered her sixth year at Hogwarts, when they came for Sirius black and the sadness. But it hadn't been like this then. She hadn't been grieving too. She felt as though her insides had all been shrunken done and shriveled up.

They were going to suck all of the life right out of her.

Verity looked at her boyfriend, all the hope had abandoned her and she couldn't even be frightened , "I can't do this, Simon, I've never done a patronus properly and look at Hannah."

"Try!" said Simon desperately, "Think of something happy for fuck's sake!"

Verity lifted her wand and looked at Hannah, who wasn't moving, her wand down at her side as she stared ahead at those cloaked figures with a blank sort of acceptance.

Making salt dough with Mum. Kissing Simon for the first time. Getting her job with the Weasleys and winning her first Quidditch match, she tried to bring them all to the surface trembling as she shouted 'Expecto Patronum!" there were a few feathers emitted from her wand, ethereal and pathetic and then there was nothing.

They were so close now, Simon was trying as hard as he could; he was a talented wizard, far more so than Verity, but the strength of two dementors was too much for him to make anything near strong enough to drive them both away. The silvery owl that swam out of his wand was keeping them back for a short while before it disappeared completely. They needed Hannah too, at least, but she was lost in the grief that the Dementors were forcing her to face up to.

Verity was at her side again and shaking her, "Hannah please, Hannah." It wouldn't be long now before the whole world turned black.