C. M. Black: Bones of a Doe
Chapter XI: House bound
It was in Sirius' room that Cassy awoke several hours later. She had only meant to give the room one last look and yet somehow ended up passed out on top of the duvet, curled tightly in the centre of the bed. Her spirits were high when she opened her eyes. It was a strange feeling when a sullenness had leaked into her mind for the last week, but one she eagerly wanted to share with Harry and her friends downstairs.
The gloomy corners and moist walls did not dampen her spirits, nor the spiders that crawled up the walls and scurried along the floor of the kitchen down in the basement. The gas lamps hissed around her and the kettle squealed when brought to the boil. She slipped a silver tray from a high cupboard and placed four mugs of black tea on top with a little bowl overflowing with sugar cubes she had found at the back of a cabinet.
No one was awake when she opened the drawing room door, though Hermione stirred when the tray clattered down onto a nearby table. She looked up at Cassy with blurry, brown eyes.
'Morning?' she asked, somewhat confused. 'What's all this?'
'I was going to make breakfast for everyone but then I thought I best not subject you to that until we are truly desperate,' said Cassy cheerfully.
Harry stretched out along his front like an oversized cat. 'I've been murdered in my sleep.'
'What?' laughed Hermione.
'Not only did Cassy contemplate cooking but she's happy so early in the morning. It's not natural,' he said as he wound his arms around his pillow and snuggled down again. 'Therefore, I'm dead and this is some sort of purgatory.'
Cassy threw a sugar cube at him. Neville and Hermione snickered.
'If you must know, I have two pieces of excellent news,' she said while handing out the mugs of tea. 'My father is alive.'
Harry jolted up.
'I asked Kreacher to tell me honestly if he was mine. He said he was not, which means my father must be alive, because I am the only one who has any claim to Kreacher if he were to die. He would be bound by his magic to be honest to me,' she continued.
'That's great, Cassy,' said Neville with a sleepy grin.
Harry stared for a moment and then a wide grin split the relief on his features. 'At least we know that.'
'Second,' continued Cassy as she sipped the scorching tea, 'I know who took the locket.'
There was a flurry of motion and babbling questions that she silenced with a wave of her hand.
'I asked Kreacher about that as well after I found my uncle Regulus' bedroom upstairs,' she said.
'R.A.B is your uncle?' asked Hermione.
Cassy nodded. 'Kreacher explained it all to me. It's quite a story actually and I know where to locket has gone, but I am not quite sure where exactly or how we are going to get it.'
'What do you mean?' asked Harry warily. The excitement that had surged through him at her announcement was quickly cooling at what sounded like a difficult journey ahead.
'It was in the house, but Fletcher's stolen it along with a lot of other heirlooms,' seethed Cassy, not even her excitement was able to stop the bitter tone. 'I've asked Kreacher to look for him. I sent Kitsy with him too, though he threw a fit about it.'
There was a jumbled sort of response that had everyone interrupting each other with questions and contradictions that Cassy allowed to run its course. It was only when they fell into a natural silence, each expectant and impatient, that she began to fill in the obvious holes in the story. She began with Kreacher's tale. It was not something she had ever expected to hear, not from his mouth or those of any house-elf she had ever met. She had recalled his choked words and how they told her that Voldemort had asked his followers for a house-elf; he had offered no explanation as to why, but Regulus was confident that whatever task the Dark Lord needed them to perform it would not be something they would ever return from. Yet, Regulus had ordered Kreacher to return. He had told him to return to them and that was what Kreacher had done, though he had found himself disorientated, his nerves screaming in pain, and his mouth releasing involuntary wails as Voldemort had forced him to drink from the opal basin again and again and again. Voldemort then left. Kreacher was alone.
She told her friends about how Kreacher had returned home, only to be hidden away by Regulus. Kreacher had cried harder when he spoke of how Regulus had protected him, had pretended him to be dead so Voldemort could never know that Kreacher recalled every step needed to reach the far-flung cave and how to bypass every security measure. He had told everything to his master and, in turn, Regulus had grown cold and distant from the Death Eaters until one day he ordered Kreacher to take him to that cave. He drank the potion and Kreacher took the locket, exchanged it for the fake that was now tucked away in Harry's moleskin pouch and left his master there to be dragged beneath the water by the undead as ordered.
'And he's never told anyone this?' questioned Neville soberly.
'He was ordered not to tell the family,' said Cassy.
Hermione pursed her lips, tear tracks glittering down her cheeks. 'How did he tell you then?'
'I'm the half-blooded, bastard child of the estranged former heir,' she said with a dry smile. 'In Kreacher's mind, I am nothing. That said, he cannot lie to me as easily as he may want because my father is still his master and that means he must serve me too for as long as that bond is recognised between us.'
'It's barbaric, what they make house-elves do. No wonder Kreacher's gone mad.' Hermione sniffed and wiped her eyes.
'How did he get out of the cave, though?' asked Harry, frowning.
'It's obvious, isn't it? While witches and wizards can't apparate in or out, Voldemort never would have considered house-elves and their own brand of magic. He left it completely accessible,' said Hermione.
Harry nodded and the four of them spent the morning exchanging theories and asking questions they may never know the answer to. By dinner, the excitement was beginning to wane and give way to impatience. The second day was spent on edge. The third day saw Cassy take her wand to the ghastly portrait in the hall.
'You ungrateful child!' roared Walburga.
'What do I have to thank you for?' huffed Cassy, her fingers wrapped tightly around either side of the massive frame. She gave a tremendous heave, one foot braced on the wall. Dust puffed from the edges and small chips of plaster rained onto the threadbare carpet below, but the portrait moved no more than a fraction of an inch. It was still firmly stuck to the wall.
'You abomination to the Black name-'
'You should see Tonks; she has pink hair.'
Walburga gave a piercing shriek and held her hands out in front of her as if trying to reach through the boundaries of her frame to throttle her granddaughter.
'You disgusting half-blood-'
'You married your own cousin. I think that's worse.'
Cassy gave another tug on the frame. She moved her wand from her hand to clasp between her lips and wedged her hands further behind the frame. With each tug, Walburga's screams grew louder and more desperate and although she could easily have silenced her, the screams were rather stress-relieving to hear.
'What's going on here then?'
Neville stood at the end of the hall, his hands wrapped between a grubby tea-towel.
'Sorry,' said Cassy. 'Is she bothering you?'
'No, I silenced the door about fifteen minutes ago. I was just wondering what you were doing to make her scream so loudly,' he answered in amusement. 'Want a hand?'
'How's your strength?'
'The same as when I was eleven,' he said as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. They hooked their hands around of the frame and heaved. Larger chunks of plaster showered down this time, the ancient brick no doubt revealed at long last from behind its thick coverings. The wallpaper tore in long strips as it clung to the back of the portrait, gleaming with moist mould that no one would miss.
If Cassy was honest, she had gone to antagonise her Grandmother on purpose. It had been her who had thrown back the heavy drapes and began the whole debacle that followed Walburga's half-lucid presence. She and Hermione had argued again. It was Cassy's fault. There was something terribly wrong about being in Grimmauld Place without Sirius and Cassy had been driven half-mad by the silence of the last few days. No amount of discussion or planning for "what-ifs" could quell the boredom inside of her, nor the unease at the familiar walls penning her in once more, this time without her father, without the Order, without any definitive knowledge of just when she would be able to escape again. The house reminded her of her father and of Alphard. After all, it had been his death that had caused her to be confined to the wretched place to begin with and there she was again, faced with losing someone else and stuck staring out of the same windows into the same streets with the same guilt she had had before. She felt she was going absolutely insane.
She had snapped one too many times, the final strike being Hermione's request that she leave the piano alone for a while help them plan. She had said it tartly, exasperation filling her tone, but Cassy did not want to part from the piano; she did not want to leave the place she had bonded most with her father, the place only a year ago that she spoke about her mother, about the trial and Sirius' freedom. So, she had snapped. She had told Hermione to leave her alone and it had escalated into a fierce row the boys had to step between. Then, when she had stormed downstairs to her grandmother's portrait in search of someone else to argue with, Walburga insulted Sirius and Cassy allowed herself the pleasure of using whatever spells she knew to try and rip the cursed frame from the wall. If she was lucky, she could burn it in the garden at sunset.
It was unhealthy. Cassy knew it was unhealthy, but she could not quell the torrent of emotions that had built up inside of her in the last week. Too much focus had been given to the Weasleys, to the planning and preparation, to Harry's birthday, so she had not been able to dwell on her feelings. Now there was nothing but the faint hiss of the gas lamps or the rustling of doxies in the night.
Thinking about Sirius made her think of Alphard, thinking of Alphard made her think of the Malfoys' and that only served to heighten her temper.
She gave the portrait an extra hard tug.
The noise soon attracted Harry from upstairs; he sat on a step and watched the pair attempt to pull the plaster from the walls without bringing down the entire house – a feat that was much more difficult than expected. He offered no help, besides what he termed as "constructive criticism", and gleefully exchanged barbs with Walburga and cheered on Cassy's own ongoing argument with laughter.
It was a while later that Hermione appeared, looking much less surly that she had last. Cassy caught her eye, though neither spoke. Hermione took a seat beside Harry on the stairs and watched as the plaster tore from the walls just a little more.
They stayed there, voices loud and filled with biting remarks and loud laughter until a metallic clink shot through the house, thunderous despite their noise. The four were all upstairs without a moment's notice, wands drawn and huddled around the nearest corner, their heads turned to better hear the scrapes and creaks of the front door opening.
Then, there was nothing.
The feet did not immediately enter, nor were there any words of glee from rough voices or hushed whispers. There was not even a faint gasp when the white ghost of Dumbledore appeared from the depths of the threadbare mat.
'I did not kill you, Albus,' said the voice calmly.
Everyone perked up.
'Show yourself!' bellowed Harry as he jumped around the corner. His wand pointed directly at the shadowed figure, their face obscured by a heavy travelling cloak unsuitable for the August weather, even now the Sun had set.
'It's me, Remus,' said the intruder and the hood was pulled down to reveal a tired but pleased face. 'My name is Remus John Lupin, I am a werewolf and married to Nymphadora, Cassy's second cousin. I taught Harry the Patronus Charm in his third year at Hogwarts, which takes the form of a stag.'
'Well, I had to check,' said Harry.
'Of course,' said Remus, smiling.
Remus looked even more worse-for-wear up close than he had from atop the stairs. There were no visible wounds but he appeared to had gathered several more lines on his young face and the clothes he adorned were certainly not his best. He looked at each of them in turn, appraising them as they had for him.
'There are Death Eaters outside,' he said.
'We know,' they all answered together.
The Death Eaters had appeared the day after their arrival. No one had tried to enter the house yet, there had been no sign of Snape nor anyone he might have told the address to, though that did not quell the paranoia that it was only a matter of time before someone did.
'Do you think they know we're here?' asked Neville.
Remus shook his head. 'I'm sure they'd be more people out there if they did. They're staking out anywhere connected to you, Harry, they're here purely because they know Sirius probably inherited this house from his family, if Severus hasn't told them the location already. Speaking of Severus, has there been any sign of him?'
Everyone shook their heads.
'I think he must've been tongue tied by the curse and is unable to tell them the address,' said Hermione. 'There's no other explanation for them being outside and not inside, otherwise.'
Remus nodded thoughtfully. 'I have loads to tell you, so should we head downstairs and share our stories?'
The fire roared to life with a flick of his wand and Remus withdrew a handful of Butterbeer bottles from beneath his cloak. The bright glow of the fire and the warm liquid could not erase the cold walls of the kitchen, but it did create an ease that had been missing since their arrival. They all took a seat around the long, wooden table, eagerly awaiting what news Remus had brought.
'I would have been here days ago, but the Death Eaters trailing me have been hard to shake off,' he said.
'How's Tonks?' asked Cassy.
'She's fine,' he said briskly before he took a long drink of his Butterbeer. 'She's with her parents.'
Something inside Cassy twitched.
'Have you been here since the wedding?' he continued and when Harry shook his head, the story of how they had been found and attacked in London tumbled out, much to Remus' horror.
Hermione spoke tentatively, 'We wondered if Harry might still have the trace on him?'
'It's impossible,' answered Remus immediately.
Harry exhaled in relief.
They discussed only briefly the ways in which they may have tracked Harry down that night; none were very convincing because, if nothing else, they would have been able to locate him inside Grimmauld Place and more Death Eaters would have surrounded the house for certain. As it was, Remus could not offer any fresh ideas and Harry had little interest in discussing himself for longer than a few minutes at a time and soon moved the conversation along to the fate of the other wedding guests.
'Mostly everyone is fine,' said Remus. 'Kingsley's warning gave most people a chance to get out before any real fighting began. They didn't know you were there, Harry. They had an idea, but Arthur heard a rumour at the Ministry the day after – Scrimgeour was tortured for information before they killed him, but if that's true then he didn't give you away.'
A mixture of gratitude and shock flashed across Harry's face.
'What about the Weasleys?' questioned Hermione anxiously.
'Everyone's fine. The Ministry searched the house and found Ron's ghoul, he's hiding out with his Aunt Murial at the moment, I believe.'
'Ghoul?' said Neville.
'He didn't tell you? He's charmed the ghoul in the attic to look like him with Splattergroit, so if anyone came looking for him the family would have an excuse,' said Remus.
Hermione beamed. 'That's brilliant! That way he can still move around without any suspicion.'
'Yeah, it worked pretty well when they were being interrogated. No one wanted to get too close to him in case they caught it. At the moment, I think he's the only one of us not being tracked.'
'And everyone one else?' queried Harry.
'All okay. Tonks' parents were subjected to the Cruciatus Curse – they're fine, though, just a little shaken, obviously. They were looking for information where you went after your "visit" there the other day, Harry,' he said, though whether the assurance was for Cassy's sake or Neville's, no one was certain. 'They burnt down Dedalus Diggle's house too, but he's still looking after the Dursleys. They searched everyone's house who even might be connected to you. They were rough but no one's been killed.'
There was an unspoken "yet" that was difficult to miss.
'How did they manage to get passed all the wards?' said Harry.
Cassy knew very well that none of the wards would hold if the Death Eaters put their minds to it. They would crumble even quicker now the Ministry was under their control too, after all, they knew every address, every family member, every part of a person's written history all tucked away in a little office beneath the ground.
Spells were more often destructive than defensive, anyway. There were more spells to kill a man than to save his life, more ways the break a shield than to create it. All that was needed was to remove the threat of being arrested or traced from the equation and the Death Eaters had free reign to impose themselves almost anywhere; only a well hidden Filidus Charm could really deter promise safety and even that, as Harry knew better than most, was not infallible.
From his cloak pocket, Remus then pulled a newspaper. He passed it across the table. 'Page two.'
Hermione pulled the crinkled paper towards her and flicked her eyes down the page quickly. From where Cassy sat, she could not see the words clearly enough to read the tiny print, but Hermione's sudden downwards shift in expression was very visible.
'Muggle-born registration?' she cried, aghast. 'How're we supposed to "prove" it's our own magic when they've already decided we're guilty?'
Neville turned the newspaper towards him. 'They think Muggle-borns stole their magic? That's ridiculous. Who can believe that?'
'It doesn't matter if the people doing it believe it or not, it's either the Muggle-borns or them. Voldemort's lot have done a good job at creating fear without actually even revealing it's him in charge,' said Remus heavily.
'Wait, so Voldemort's not the Minister of Magic?' said Harry.
'He doesn't need to be,' said Remus. 'He's got Pius Thicknesse working under the Imperious curse doing everything he tells him to.'
'People cannot rebel if there is no visible threat,' piped in Cassy. Her chin rested on her fingers thoughtfully. 'If Voldemort is not in charge then people cannot challenge him; if he remains at large then there is no specific place to aim an open rebellion.'
'Exactly,' said Remus.
'People must know it's him, though!' demanded Hermione, half-stating and half-desperately questioning the man. 'They're torturing people for Harry's whereabouts. People must know that's not right!'
'Read the front page,' he told them.
Neville turned back to the cover and this time, Cassy could very clearly read the bold, swirling font.
WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
Beneath the headline was a photograph of Harry.
Neville and Hermione roared in outrage and Cassy reached beneath the table to grip his hand. Harry turned away from the newspaper.
'I'm sorry, Harry,' said Remus. 'If people begin to doubt you then we start to lose strength in fighting him, but it's early days. No one knows how much effect this will have.'
'It is working though, isn't it? It always bloody does,' he muttered. He squeezed Cassy's hand back.
'The sudden change in policy hasn't gone unnoticed. The coup may have been virtually silent, but that doesn't mean people haven't realised something drastic has changed in a matter of days. I think people are aware of it, they just don't know how to go forward with it when everyone around them might be working for Voldemort himself nowadays.'
'And Hogwarts?' asked Neville fretfully. His mind had no doubt turned to Luna and Ginny.
'Compulsory. No one can be educated overseas or at home, those that have been must now go to Hogwarts or face being tracked down. Muggle-borns will have to prove they are from a magical heritage before they can enter,' said Remus.
'And what happens if they can't?' said Hermione.
'We don't know,' admitted Remus sombrely.
There was a heavy silence.
'So he has made it so all young witches and wizards are under one roof and easier to control,' contemplated Cassy. 'If only we were still there, we could show him the flaws in that plan.' She smirked boldly and her words did the trick to lighten the mood. Neville sat up taller in his chair and Harry grinned roguishly. Remus, however, gave a withering sigh.
'Then I'm thankful you're not.' He leant forward in his seat and the amused smile slipped from his face almost instantly. 'It's my understanding that Albus left you a mission.'
'Yeah,' said Harry.
'Can you tell me what that mission is?'
Harry paused, 'I think if Dumbledore wanted you to know he would have mentioned it. He told me to tell Cassy, Neville, and Hermione, that's why they're here with me.'
'I expected that,' sighed Remus. 'I can be of some help, though. You know what I'm capable of and I can protect you. You don't even have to tell me what it is you're doing.'
Cassy stiffened and Harry must have noticed for he turned to look at her.
'Remus,' began Hermione softly, 'What about Tonks?'
'What about her?' he asked flippantly.
'I vouched for you,' growled Cassy. Her voice broke the tentative silence. The harsh chill of her tone extinguished any warmth the fire and new company had brought forth. Her dark blue eyes were narrowed sharply, her lips parted just slightly, ready to snap like a wolf closing in on another predator inside its territory. 'I told her you would love it but here you are running.'
For a moment, Remus looked blindsided, but it was only for a moment.
'Don't speak of things you don't understand,' he snarled, standing.
Cassy stood too and ripped her hand out of Harry's grip.
'What's happened?' asked Neville frantically.
'What's going on?' cried Hermione.
Neither Remus or Cassy spoke. They stared at one another, a silent contest to see which one of them would attack first, which one would crumble. Logically, Cassy knew she should hear him speak, allow him to explain himself and the fears she knew he must harbour, but she was a Black through and through and that meant once her temper was ignited it took only an instant to blossom into an inferno. She was very quickly running out of hands to hold her tongue with, so he had better speak fast.
'Remus, what's wrong with Tonks?' questioned Harry sternly, as if sensing his girlfriend's near eruption.
'She's fine,' he replied coldly.
Cassy kept his gaze, her eyes narrowing even further, daring him to dismiss the situation once more.
Heavily, Remus sighed. 'She's pregnant.'
'Oh, how wonderful!' squealed Hermione.
'That's great!' exclaimed Neville.
'How long have you known?' Remus turned his attention back to Cassy.
'Since Harry's birthday,' she said coolly, shortly.
Remus gave them all a bright, false smile. 'So, do you accept my proposal?'
'Just to clarify, you want to leave Tonks and run away with us?' said Harry.
Cassy almost smirked.
'There will be dangers you have never seen before, things I will know and will have faced; I was your Defence teacher for a reason. I can be of great service to you, Harry,' he said and it made Cassy's blood boil just a few degrees more. 'James would have wanted to know I was looking out for you.'
'My dad died for me,' said Harry bluntly. 'I think he'd rather know why you're planning on leaving your kid.'
Remus' face dropped and Cassy could not find it in her to care.
'You don't understand,' he murmured mournfully.
'Explain it then,' said Harry.
'I should never have married Tonks,' he said with a harsh swallow.
'I agree,' announced Cassy.
Hermione hissed something indistinguishable.
'No, I do agree with you, Remus. You should never have married her. If I had known you would leave her at the first sign of trouble then I would have stopped the wedding myself. She deserves better than that.'
'Exactly!' cried Remus. 'She should never have been tied to someone like me, someone so old, so broken. I have nothing to offer her or this child. She's an outcast now, people look at her differently for marrying me – neither of them will ever fit in because of me. Her parents disapprove of it too. I've regretted marrying her ever since.'
'So you think it's okay to just leave them now?' questioned Harry.
'You don't understand! You're not a werewolf, you have no idea how people in the real world treat us!' bellowed Remus. 'Tonks, the baby, they'll be outcasts, never able to live a normal life – my kind don't normally breed, that child will be like me, I know it.'
'So you're going to leave it without a father on top of it being a werewolf?' Harry's voice was deathly calm.
'Harry – you don't understand,' he pushed but Harry shook his head fiercely.
'I understand now that you're a coward.'
There was a bang, a flash, and a crack. Harry sailed backwards, his head collided with a wall and his previously occupied chair splintered beneath him. Remus had reached for his wand so suddenly that no one had time to respond and just as quickly he was gone. The front door slammed dully and the snap of Remus' apparition was audible through all the layers of thick stone and cement.
Cassy fished her hands through Harry's hair in search of a lump or cut, while Hermione wailed.
'You shouldn't have done that!' she cried.
'That was a bit harsh,' agreed Neville, face crumpled in concern.
'He had it coming,' grunted Harry as he edged out of Cassy's reach. 'He can't just up ship and leave his wife and kid because he's afraid. Parents – parents shouldn't leave their kids unless they have to.'
No one retorted to that. Harry repaired the chair and noisily opened the newspaper Remus had left. He held it up in front of him and blocked the other three from sight.
Hermione pursed her lips and sent a worried look to Neville. He shrugged back with upturned eyebrows. Cassy rolled her eyes; Remus would be fine.
'I know I shouldn't have called him a coward,' said Harry suddenly.
'No, you shouldn't have,' said Hermione.
'But he is acting like one,' he continued.
'Yes,' said Cassy, 'and it is too late now for him to change his mind and decide he wants nothing to do with them.'
'He's afraid of hurting them,' said Neville softly, 'but I'd rather have a chance to know my dad and have him be a werewolf than to never get to know him at all.'
'My father is missing and he just expected me to allow him to leave his own child so easily,' hissed Cassy beneath her breath. The sound carried in the tense silence.
Hermione looked slightly lost. Sometimes, Cassy forgot that Hermione had never experienced loss. Cassy, Harry, and Neville did not often discuss their family situations out of the simple fact that it never really came up and they had no desire to often incite those heavy topics. Yet they had varying degrees of similarity in their childhoods, all without their parents in some form, raised surrounded by people who thought less of them for one reason or another.
Neville was attempting to fill the silence with light chatter and the soft huff of the tea kettle when a booming crack echoed through the kitchen. Cassy almost swung to glare at the door, expecting to see Remus at the stairs with a curse upon his lips and another desperate plea in mind, but she then took in the tangle of limbs on the ground; three small bodies of greyish-green and one much larger form dressed not in rags but very much scrounged clothing.
With ears flapping madly, Kreacher pried himself from the brawl.
'Kreacher has brought back Mundungus Fletcher,' he announced and hissed the man's name as though the very words made him want to vomit.
Fletcher wailed: 'Get these ruddy things off me – get off me!'
'Kitsy,' ordered Cassy.
Immediately, the tall house-elf released Fletcher leaving only one other latched around his neck in a strangle-hold. It only took a second for Cassy to recognise the house-elf as Dobby. His hands were covered in thick mittens and upon his feet were several pairs of tatty socks. Despite the summer heat, he still layered the gifted or foraged clothes so heavily that it was a miracle he had not passed out from heat exhaustion already. When Cassy voiced this, he simply laughed.
'Oh, Dobby did, Miss Cassy,' he said enthusiastically. 'Dobby woke up to Winky smacking him with a rolled up newspaper – she had tried to bin all of Dobby's clothes again!'
His legs remained firmly wrapped around Fletcher's throat, his lips now tinged blue.
'Dobby, I think you're going to kill him,' said Harry. He flicked his wand the moment Dobby moved and secured Fletcher's wrist to the edge of the table with a conjured rope and caught the man's wand effortlessly with his left hand. Fletcher rolled on the ground and wailed like a cat fresh out of a bath as he pulled on the bindings. For a moment, everyone watched his struggle and Cassy had to fight down the urge to kick him.
'This is Mundungus Fletcher,' repeated Kreacher. 'It was he who took Master Regulus' necklace.'
'What are you on about, you deranged elf!' cried Fletcher. 'Let me out of this.'
'Where's the necklace now, Mundungus?' demanded Harry.
'What necklace?' he wailed.
'A locket,' continued Harry, 'It has an "S" on it in emeralds.'
'What you want that ol' thing for?' he sputtered. 'It didn't even open.'
'What do you mean "didn't"?' asked Cassy coldly.
All flailing limbs paused. He lay there as if stunned for a brief time and the cogs of his mind could almost be seen turning, whirring away as he tried to think of a lie. It was only a second, but they had all expected it and so no one missed the hesitation before he rolled back to peer around the untidy kitchen.
'Why? Was it expensive?' he questioned somewhat mournfully.
'Who did you sell it to?' barked Harry.
'He didn't sell it,' interjected Hermione, her lips pursed. 'You lost it, didn't you? That's why you're so upset.'
Fletcher let out a withering sigh and said, 'I got caught selling my wares one day by a woman from the Ministry. She almost had me arrested but she took a fancy to the necklace. Said if I gave it to her then she'd let me off.'
'Who?' asked Neville.
Fletcher shuffled on the floor as if he had attempted to shrug. 'I didn't ask her name, didn't seem important at the time. I was jus' glad not to go to Azkaban!'
'Whereabouts were you when you were caught?' promoted Hermione.
'Just down in Nocturn Alley, off Shutter Street and in the little alley there,' he said. 'Not a pretty woman, mind you. Looked a bit more like a toad that a person with an ugly pink bow in her hair as if she were ten.'
There was a collective hiss.
'Oy, don't be taking no offence on her behalf, you'd think the same if you'd have seen her,' said Fletcher.
Out of the corner of her eye, Cassy watched as Harry balled his hands into tight fists. Her own right hand flexed, stretching the vibrant white scars that lined the back of her pale skin.
Fletcher rubbed his wrist when the ropes had been removed. As he did, Cassy plucked his wand from Harry's hands and held it out to him. His scarred, dirty hands almost met the knotted wood when Cassy's fist met his stomach first. A loud gasp rattled through his chest so deeply that she could feel it, the touch of his breath was non-existent even with his mouth an inch from her ear where he had doubled over, merely kept standing by the fist in his gut.
Lowly, she spoke with a hard edge, a thread of pure diamond running through her tone. 'If you ever steal from my family or my House again, I will personally see to it that your hands are skinned bare and your eyes are unable to tell a goblet from a cooking pot.'
Ta-da! I updated in good time. Yay!
Thank-you for all the reviews so far. Please continue to let me know what you think! There's only about twenty-three more chapters to go before this entire series is finished. I can't believe it.
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