The Death Eater's Wife
Ginny walked slowly down the long, dark corridor, her feeling of foreboding increasing with every step she took. It was very cold and damp, and the only source of light emanated from the room in the distance. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and run back to the safety of her bed, but he was waiting for her, and he brooked no disobedience.
In the beginning he was kind and compassionate, and he had provided the support and refuge she so desperately needed. She thought he cared for her, but he eventually revealed what he was truly like under that boyish veneer, and by then she was completely vulnerable and it was too late. At first, she tried to resist him, but he had thoroughly taught her the folly of defiance. She did not have the strength to fight him anymore, and she hated herself for such weakness.
Ginny took a steadying breath in an effort control the trembling in her body. Perhaps she could at least put on a brave face so he would not know just how afraid she was. I will be brave, she tried to convince herself. iI will be brave; I just can't think about what he will make me do this time./i
She came to the end of the tunnel and reluctantly stepped into the room. It was empty and the reprieve allowed her to breathe a momentary sigh of relief. Ginny closed her eyes, telling herself that she had the courage to look him in the face and not cower in fear before him. Indeed, some girls who didn't know what he was capable of might consider him handsome… with his raven-colored hair and his eyes… she was certain his power must be centered in his eyes.
"Welcome back, Ginny."
His voice came from directly behind her; her heart took a frightened leap and began to pound fearfully in her chest. Reminding herself that she was determined to be brave, she turned around slowly. When she saw him standing over her, her resolve crumbled as her fear turned into pure terror, and Ginny awoke in the dark room, stifling a scream.
**********
Over dinner the previous night, Harry had told Ron and Hermione everything his team had pieced together about the case thus far. Hermione was surprised by their suspicions that someone in the Ministry's Security Department could actually be working for Death Eaters, especially with the tightened security precautions Kingsley had put in place to keep such a thing from happening; but even she had to admit that the circumstantial evidence supported their theory and it provided an explanation as to how the Death Eaters were able to attack on the night of the wedding rehearsal.
Now, having donned his mustache and beard disguise once again, Harry entered the Dark Specter Tavern with Ron. They made their way past several groups of people towards the same table at which Harry and Alicia sat during their visit. Harry did not see the man with the tattoo, but the same waitress was on duty and, after a few moments, she walked over to their table.
"What can I get you?" she asked and then she gasped slightly when she looked at Harry. He was not sure whether it was surprise or fear he saw in her eyes.
"Two fire-whiskeys, please," Harry replied politely and she immediately turned and walked quickly to the bar to fill their order.
Harry frowned slightly at her reaction and Ron said quietly, "You seem to have developed a strange way with people, mate."
"That's the waitress who pointed out who Dingo was to Alicia and me," Harry replied. "Maybe she figures I'm the one who killed him since we were looking for him the night he was murdered."
"Do you recon we'll have trouble getting more information from her, then?" Ron asked.
"We'll find out soon enough," Harry answered.
The waitress came back, and without glancing at either Harry or Ron, she quickly deposited their drinks on the table. She started to move away, but Harry's hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist. When she tried to move away, Ron shifted slightly to block Harry's actions from the other tavern patrons.
"Let go of me!" she hissed, trying to pull free from Harry's grasp.
"Don't walk away yet and I will," Harry answered. "I'm hoping you can help me out again."
"Help you?" she asked incredulously, keeping her voice low so that no one could hear over the voices and music in the room. "Why? So you can get someone else killed?"
"Then you don't think I'm the one who killed Dingo?" Harry asked quietly, thinking that her choice of words indicated she didn't think that he was the one who murdered the man. She stopped trying to pull away from him and he released his hold on her.
"No, I don't," the waitress answered and looked around nervously to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. She pulled a rag out of her apron pocket and proceeded to wipe an imaginary spill off their table. She continued in a barely audible whisper, "I don't believe that you would commit coldblooded murder."
"How can you be sure?" Harry asked, surprised by her apparent conviction.
She straightened and with hands-on-hips she whispered, "Do you honestly believe that there's a witch in all of Britain who won't recognize you by those green eyes of yours?"
Ron made a sound somewhere between a cough and a snort as he tried not to laugh, earning him an angry glance from Harry.
He looked back at the waitress and asked, "So you recognized me the last time I was here, too?"
"Yes," she affirmed. "When you work in a place like this, it's healthier to be observant." Then she added with emphasis, "And to mind your own business. If I were you, I'd get out of here. You're not very popular with the lot that in comes here."
"I'm well aware of that," Harry replied, unaffected by her warning.
"Oi!" a gruff voice yelled, causing the waitress to jump slightly. "More drinks over here, girl!"
"I have to get back to work," she said quickly.
"Before you do, can you tell us if you've seen—"
"No!" she answered quickly. Two men sitting at the bar looked toward them and she lowered her voice again, "I can't tell you anything! Just go away and leave me alone!" She backed away, careful to keep her arm out of Harry's reach, and she went to get another round of drinks for the man who had called to her.
As they watched her leave, Ron asked worriedly, "Do you think she'll tell anyone who you are?"
"If she was going to say something, I think she would have done it by now."
They waited for another forty-five minutes, but the waitress refused to go near their table again.
Finally Harry stood up and said "Come on. Let's go."
"We're leaving?" Ron asked as Harry dropped several coins on the table for the drinks.
"Yes, we're leaving," Harry answered.
Once they were outside of the tavern, Ron turned on Harry and said impatiently, "That didn't get us anywhere! You're not giving up, are you?"
"No," Harry answered, walking toward the shadows on the opposite side of the alley. "We're going to wait, and when she leaves to head home, we're going to stop her and ask her about Mr. Tattoo again. Or maybe we'll get lucky and he'll show up and save us the trouble."
Unfortunately luck was not on their side and, as the hour dragged on, no one fitting the tattooed man's description entered the Dark Specter.
They waited another half hour before the waitress came of out the tavern door calling behind her, "See you tomorrow night, Petey," and they heard a distant reply of "G'night, Stella," from inside the tavern.
Stella passed their shadowed hiding place and, not wanting to scare her unduly, Harry quietly called to her.
Stella whirled around, aiming her wand at the shadows that called her name.
"Who's there?" she asked fearfully. "I swear I'll hex you if you try anything!"
Harry had removed his mustache and beard and stepped forward, pulling his hood back slightly so that she could recognize him.
Seeing who had called to her, Stella relaxed slightly, but she kept her wand aimed at him.
"I told you to leave me alone!" Stella hissed. Then her eyes darted around at the shadows and she asked, "Where's the friend who was with you earlier?"
Harry didn't want to frighten her any more and called, "Come and join us, Ron." Ron stepped into the dim light, but Stella continued to survey the shadows wearily.
"We only want to ask you a few questions," Harry assured her.
"Well, I won't have any answers for you!" Stella stated crisply, backing cautiously away from them.
Undaunted, Harry said, "We need find the man Dingo was talking to on the night he was killed; a bald guy with a tattoo of a dancing girl on his arm. I overheard part of their conversation and it sounded like he knew something about what Dingo was doing for the Death Eaters. Do you know where we can find him?"
"He hasn't been in since that night. And I don't know his name nor do I have any idea where he is." She turned around and started walking briskly away from them, but Harry caught up with her and kept pace beside her.
"Then maybe you've overheard something that can help us. Something that might help us track down some of the Death Eaters or their leader."
Stella glanced hesitantly at Harry, but then she looked quickly away again, "Please, just go away and leave me alone! There's nothing I can tell you. I have a four-year-old daughter at home, and I won't do anything that will put her in danger." She paused for a moment and added, "I'm sorry."
"But there is something you could tell us, isn't there?" Harry insisted. Stella ignored him and kept on walking, staring straight ahead.
Refusing to give up, Harry continued, "Stella, I need to find them!" He stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop walking. "You can understand that, can't you? I have to find the man behind the gold mask! He murdered my fiancée!"
"Keep your voice down!" the waitress hissed, looking around nervously.
Harry continued in a quieter voice, "If you don't know where the tattooed guy is, then tell us if you've overheard something. Anything at all that may help us find the people who killed Ginny. You can help us stop them before they kill someone else."
Ron came up next to Harry and further implored, "Ginny was my kid sister and they nearly killed my wife a few nights ago. Isn't there anything you can tell us?"
Stella hesitated for a moment, and then sighed as if resigned to dealing with something that she really didn't want to. "Come on. We can't talk out here; my flat is above one of the shops up this way."
She led them up the alley past the darkened windows of numerous closed shops. There was just enough light from a street lamp for Harry to catch glimpses of the merchandise displayed behind the dirty panes as they passed; shrunken heads with dead glaring eyes, fearsome weapons that looked intended to cause quite a bit of pain before killing their victim, and slimy, unidentifiable creatures floating in murky liquids.
They followed Stella past a few more shops until she halted abruptly and peered down a narrow passage between two of the buildings. She raised her wand suddenly, startling Harry and Ron, whose wands quickly joined hers in pointing down the narrow alleyway.
Not seeing anyone or anything moving in the shadows, Harry whispered, "What is it?"
The waitress's eyes continued to dart back and forth between the sides of the buildings until she was satisfied that they were the only ones present and she lowered her wand.
Stella explained, "Since the Minister of Magic outlawed Apparation or using the Floo into or out of any building within Knockturn Alley, everyone who lives here has to walk to get home now." Then she added somewhat bitterly, "While that may benefit the Ministry and the Aurors, it makes things a lot less safe for the rest of us."
"So why do you live here then?" Ron asked. Harry had been wondering the same thing. Stella did not seem to have much in common with the shady characters that frequented Knockturn Alley.
"It's all I can afford," Stella answered simply and pointed her wand at the lock of a small wooden door. It swung open and she lit her wand, revealing steep steps leading to the floor above. She took a step forward then stopped and turned to Harry.
"Would you mind disguising yourself again? And pull up your hood. I think it's best that Beda doesn't get a proper look at you."
"Beda?" Harry queried.
Stella replied, "The woman who looks after my daughter while I'm working." Then she eyed Ron and added, "You'd better pull up your hood, too."
They did as she bid and followed her up the stairs. At the top, Stella paused to unlock another door and she called quietly, "Beda… I'm home."
Harry and Ron followed Stella through the portal and into a small room that served as both living room and kitchen. There was an ancient stove in one corner and a tiny kitchen table with two chairs nearby. A wireless radio sat atop another small table beside a couch that was positioned along the wall opposite the door they had just entered. Stepping further into the room, Harry saw an old woman wrapped in a dark, tattered shawl seated on the couch. Chamber music drifted from the wireless, but it went quiet when the old woman waved her wand with a gnarled hand.
"You're late!" Beda accused in a gravelly voice, getting slowly to her feet with the aid of her cane. "You think I like waitin' around for you half the night?"
"I'm sorry," Stella answered, apologetically, "but I was—"
"I can see what you were doing!" the old woman interrupted crossly. "Finding a couple'a blokes t'bring home!"
Stella started to protest angrily, "They're just friends—"
"Ha! Sure they are; fine wife you turn out to be!" Beda interrupted again, "Your husband's locked away in Azkaban! Suffering day in and day out for a cause he believed in!"
At the mention of Azkaban, Harry and Ron exchanged glances, but then Harry looked back toward the old woman to whom he was taking an immediate dislike as she railed on.
"This is how you spend your time waiting for my son to get out? Do'in Merlin knows what with other men?" Then with speed that was surprising for her apparent age, Beda brought her cane around, aiming to hit Stella in the head with it.
Stella threw her arms up to protect herself from the imminent blow, but Harry reacted quickly. "Accio!" The woman's wand and cane flew toward him and he caught them both in his outstretched hand.
"Give them back!" she screeched at him. "How dare you take an old woman's wand and cane! Give them back, I say!"
"I will if you calm down," Harry replied firmly. "Stella has done nothing improper. It's as she said; we're just friends of hers."
Beda eyed Harry and Ron hostilely for a few moments before she let out a derisive "Humph!" but in the path of Harry's cold, unwavering gaze she made a concerted effort to compose herself.
"Mummy?" a tiny, frightened voice called from a doorway behind Beda, and Stella rushed over to pick up her daughter.
"Shh, it's okay, darling," Stella crooned as she cuddled the small, blond girl who was dressed in faded pink pajamas. "I'm sorry we woke you."
The girl wrapped her arms tightly around Stella and asked, "Why is Granma yelling again?"
"I just startled her when I came in the door, that's all," Stella answered the girl. Then she said dismissively, "Good night, Beda."
"Arley is going to hear about this! You can bet on that!" She turned to Harry holding out her wizened hand and demanded, "Gim'me my wand and cane, boy!"
When Harry gave them back to her, Beda's crooked finger twitched on her wand and Ron brought his own wand up ever so slightly.
"Humph!" she muttered again, eyeing Ron with disgust before she turned and hobbled toward the door. Both Harry and Ron kept a wary eye on the woman until the door closed behind her.
Stella stood for a moment staring unhappily at the closed door through which her mother-in-law just exited. Then, like she suddenly realized that Harry and Ron were still in the room with her, Stella said, "Excuse me while I put my daughter back to bed."
When she was out of earshot, Ron commented, "The old bat's a bit off her rocker, isn't she? Did you know Stella's husband is in Azkaban?"
"No," Harry answered, frowning. "I don't know anything about her other than she works at the Dark Specter. I wonder who her husband is…"
"His name is Arley McGinnis," Stella said coming back into the room, carefully closing the bedroom door behind her. She went over to the stove and poured water from a heated kettle into three mugs that she took from a cupboard.
"Arley McGinnis," Harry repeated the name and then a look of recognition crossed his face. "We arrested him about six months ago. He was sent to Azkaban along with two others for torturing Muggleborns. He put up quite a fight and Seamus ended up in the hospital for nearly a week because of him."
"I'm not surprised," Stella answered as she added tea leaves from several different tins into three steepers and then placed one in each steaming mug of water. "I know first-hand that Arley is a brute and has a horrible temper."
Harry had not expected the evening to end with them questioning the wife of a known Death Eater and the knowledge made him uneasy. Two other Aurors from his department recently questioned a Death Eater's wife who reported that she had discovered her husband's involvement in illegal activities. One Auror was now dead and the other was still in critical condition in Saint Mungo's, both having been slipped poison by the supposedly distraught woman.
"Cup of tea?" Stella offered. "It's my own special blend."
"That'd be great, thanks," Ron said, taking the mug and bringing it to his lips.
Harry's hand shot out to grab Ron's wrist before he could take a sip, sending most of the mug's contents splashing over Ron's cloak.
"What was that for?" Ron demanded, trying to shake the liquid off his robe before it started to drip onto his shoes.
"Aurors aren't supposed to drink when they're on duty," Harry answered, keeping his eyes on Stella.
"Not even tea?" Ron countered. "I didn't read anything about that in the—"
"Then you must have missed it," Harry replied curtly. "Your husband is a Death Eater?"
"I assure you, my sympathies do not lie with him or with others like him," Stella said and took a deliberate sip of her tea. "Nor do I go around poisoning Aurors like some Death Eaters' wives have been known to do."
"Poison?" Ron repeated, and quickly set the mug down.
"So tell me," Harry said, trying to decide whether they could now believe anything Stella told them, "why does the wife of a Death Eater want to help us?"
"I didn't realize what Arley was really like until after I had married him and it was too late," Stella answered, sighing wearily. She took a seat at the small table but Harry and Ron remained standing. "The people he started to bring home were a horrible lot. They all hated the new government and they talked about wanting to do ghastly things to people they felt were responsible for the Dark Lord's fall." She looked pointedly at Harry, "And, most especially, to you."
"If you say your sympathies aren't with the Death Eaters, why didn't you report them then?" Ron asked accusingly.
"Because I thought it was just horrible, sick talk, and nothing more," Stella answered. "And I think it was, until about nine months ago."
"What happened nine months ago?" Harry asked.
"Arley said that he'd met some people at the Dark Specter who wanted to bring about 'a new order' and that he wanted to be a part of it. They were going to strike back at the Ministry and 'the Mudblood lovers' as he called them and then continue where the Dark Lord left off, including taking revenge on you. One night I had finally heard enough and I confronted him about what they were planning to do. It was stupid; he had been drinking, so I should have known better."
Her voice trailed off and she gazed into her mug for a few moments, but neither Harry nor Ron broke the silence that hung in the air. Finally she continued, "By then, Minister Shacklebolt had set up the alarms to detect when Unforgivable Curses are performed, so instead of using the Cruciatus on me, Arley took my wand away and…"
"He beat you, didn't he?" Harry asked quietly when it seemed that Stella could not continue. He sympathized with Stella's plight, having survived numerous beatings at the hands of his cousin, Dudley, and Dudley's gang of thugs.
Stella nodded in response as tears slid down her cheeks, "I could barely get out of bed to take care of my daughter. Deidra's the only good thing that came out of my marriage to him. But he threatened to hurt her, too, if I interfered with his affairs again, and I have no doubt that he would have."
Harry did not understand how anyone could beat their wife or kid, and he was suddenly wishing they had knocked Arley McGinnis around much more when they captured him.
"After that, I didn't dare mention anything about what he was doing again. When you arrested him, I can't tell you what a favor that was to me. So believe me when I say that you and your team of Aurors are the last people I want poisoned."
Stella sniffed, and continued, "Once Arley went to prison, I knew I'd have to save up some money before I could consider finding a better place to raise my daughter. Oddly enough, being the wife of an imprisoned Death Eater provides me with some protection and it enabled me to get a job at the tavern."
"Where you were able to overhear some of the Death Eaters' plans," Harry said, leading the conversation back to the reason they were there.
"A few things, anyway," Stella affirmed. "They knew I was Arley's wife, so I guess they felt it was safe to talk when I was around; especially after a few drinks. I was very sorry to hear about what happened to your fiancée," and she added to Ron, "and to your wife. But please believe that I did not know what they were going to do."
Harry asked, "What exactly did you hear, then?"
Stella replied, "Just before Arley went to prison, he began talking about someone who was organizing a new group of Death Eaters; someone who always wore a gold mask. He was gaining a reputation for punishing anyone who made him angry, so everyone was frightened of him, but still, they began to join him. There were rumors that something big was going to happen, and when it did, everyone would know that he, the man in the golden mask I mean, had the means and power to avenge the Dark Lord by destroying you and all those who helped the new Ministry."
"Please believe me." Stella looked imploringly at Harry, "I honestly did not realize they were talking about killing your fiancée until I read about the attack in the paper."
Harry remained quiet, staring at a spot on the table in front of the mug of tea that the waitress was now gripping tightly, so Ron asked, "Can you tell us who you overheard talking?"
"None of them have been back since the night Dingo was killed," Stella replied. "And I only know the names of a few of them. One was Harold or Harvey, or something like that, Carrow. I recognized his last name from reading about the Death Eater trials just after the war. But I haven't seen him for a while now."
"Was it Hasmond Carrow?" Harry asked.
"Yes, that was it," Stella confirmed.
"Unfortunately that's not going to help," Harry said. "He was killed by my team in a raid several months ago."
"Oh," Stella said, looking disappointed. "There was Baddock who came in often accompanied by someone he called Joddy."
Ron asked Harry, "Either of those names familiar?"
Harry thought for a moment then replied, "Baddock rings a bell, but I can't place why. The name Joddy doesn't, though. Can you describe what they looked like?"
"I'd say Baddock is average build, and young, maybe 20 or 21. He had brown hair and I remember he had a small scar on his chin. Joddy was probably about your height," Stella said, indicating Harry, "but heavier, dark blond and probably in his mid twenties.
"Of course there was Dingo," Stella continued. "He started coming in a little before the attack on your fiancée and he liked to tell the others that he was helping the man in the gold mask with whatever his plans were concerning you. Joddy always tried to shut him up if he was there when Dingo was."
"Are there any other names you can give us?" Harry pressed.
"Well, there was Mr. Adelcomb," Stella answered tentatively. "I only saw him once about three months ago, but I can't believe that he was a Death Eater; he seemed like such a nice, older gentleman. I remember him because he was well mannered and not like the men who usually come into the Dark Specter."
Harry wondered whether she was talking about Silas Adelcomb, the man Kevin was searching for and whom they suspected discovered a way for the stunned Death Eaters to Disparate the night of the attack. For now he decided to keep his speculation to himself.
Stella continued, "Mr. Adelcomb came in with Joddy… oh, and someone else met them that night… Mr. Adelcomb seemed happy to see him and called him by name… what was it? I remember thinking it was unusual. He didn't stay long and he didn't want anything to drink. He kept his hood up the entire time, but I saw enough of his face to see that he was probably close to your age and that he had very light blond hair."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances and Harry asked, "It wasn't Draco Malfoy by any chance, was it?"
"I would remember if I'd heard the name Malfoy seeing as Lucius Malfoy's trial was all over the news a while back; but Draco…" Stella said, testing the sound of the name and then she shook her head slightly, "I can't remember whether that was it or not."
Stella got up from the chair and took her mug and the mug that Ron had set down over to the sink and then turned back to them, "It's getting very late and I've told you everything that I know."
Taking the not too subtle hint, Harry said, "I appreciate your willingness to tell us this. Thank you."
"Yeah, thanks," Ron sincerely agreed and headed toward the door.
Harry withdrew something from his inside pocket, took Stella's hand and placed it in her palm. When she looked down, she gasped at the galleons she was now holding.
"You don't have to pay me for—"
"I'm not," Harry replied. "It's for Deidra; to help you with finding the better place to raise her that you mentioned."
Tears glistened in Stella's eyes and she said, "You really are an amazing person, Harry Potter."
Embarrassed by her compliment, Harry mumbled a good-bye and turned to follow Ron out the door.
*********
Neither Harry nor Ron had noticed the hunched figure that watched them from the shadows as they passed the previous night and now the old woman smiled greedily to herself as she limped out of the shop and into the slowly waking alley. Beda had been paid well for passing on all that she had heard her ungrateful daughter-in-law telling them.
Joddy watched her leave and said, "The hag was right, she did have information worth our interest."
"Yes, she did," the man agreed, placing the gold mask over his face as he stepped out from the back room.
"Unfortunately, now Potter knows about Baddock and me, so it will be too dangerous to meet the others in the Dark Specter again. But you still have Goyle," Joddy smirked, knowing full well his friend's thoughts on that dimwit.
"And let that oaf lead Potter to me before I'm ready for him?" Golden Mask asked. "I don't think so. Tell Baddock that I want him to lay low for a while. But I think you can procure some Polyjuice potion and continue your role. We'll just have to decide whose identity you'll use."
"Gads, I hate that stuff!" Joddy exclaimed. "Tastes like dragon piss. Can't someone else do it? What about Malfoy?"
"He's working on something else for me at the moment," he replied. "Although, I'm beginning to question whether his heart is really into seeing our plans through." Then he asked in an amused tone, "And how do you know what dragon piss tastes like?"
Joddy ignored him and, instead, asked a question of his own, "What are you going to do about Stella? I never took her for one to have a big mouth."
"I can't blame her for not refusing the Wizarding World's savior, can I?" Golden Mask replied disdainfully.
"You mean you're not going to do anything about it?" Joddy asked in disbelief.
"For now, no," he answered. "Why make her daughter an orphan if I don't have to? All Stella has done is give him a few more pieces to the puzzle and make the game more interesting."
"You consider what we're doing a game?!" Joddy snorted. "She told Potter enough so that if he talks to the right people, he might figure out—"
"By the time he finally fits all of the pieces together, he won't be in the position or the condition to put the knowledge to use."
"I hope you're right about that," Joddy said.
"You'll find out very soon that I am," Golden Mask assured.