Warning: This chapter contains images that some may find well, disgusting. There are also references to past violence. I did not invent the world of Harry Potter, I'm just using it shamelessly and profitlessly.

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Chapter 14: The Warehouse

"You what?"

"I find the warehouse! Kob finds it!" He was bouncing on his heels, brimming with smug triumph.

"I know who you are," I said, vainly trying to put a damper on him. "If you found it, how did you find it?"

"I follow you, yes, then I see the house has wards and alarms so I wait hidden. After you leave I wait and wait, then the man who lets you in comes out with a crate, closes doors, slam! He gets out… a moving automobile!"

"Yes, and?" He seemed disappointed that the lorry wasn't a shock.

"He is driving it, but slow, so I jump up and catch hold to the special numbers at the back. We go for a long way, very wet, then he stops and gets out, slam! I jump off and make myself not seen in the trees. But I see a gate and a warehouse, like you say!

"He drives through a gate and I watch. I go up to the gate to see better, but there are wards against elves crossing, made from… it's very heavy, I can't go any closer. I wait for a long time, but there is nothing, even when I go all the way around. I go back to your house and I look for you, up and down. When I find the note, I bring it to you. Is it the right one?"

"I'll have to see it; you'll have to take me there."

"Now?" He jumped up, his eyes shining. Why should he be so eager to rush into danger? Little fool.

"In a moment," I snapped, "I have to get dressed; it's not a bloody toga party."

The bedside clock was flashing meaninglessly; my casting must have disrupted it. All I could tell through a crack in the blinds was that it was still full night. I dressed quickly and packed everything in my pockets except for the room key. I didn't exactly need it to get in and out, after all. I cast a disillusionment on myself. It probably wouldn't work on Kob and he could do better on his own. I kept the muffliato on us both. I nodded at him; he took my wrist and we were gone.

I couldn't see a thing at first when we landed. I crouched in place until my eyes began to adjust. I could just see a lighter area off to my right through the trees. I pulled Kob closer and asked "what's that?"

"There's the road. The fence is behind."

I turned on my heels and saw the glint of the metal chain-link only about 5 meters away. I picked my way over to it, Kob dogging my steps. I held my hand close to the metal. Strangely I couldn't feel anything. I cast specialis revelio to be sure. Nothing.

"You said it was warded," I hissed at him, "heavily warded." How could he have made such a blunder?

"Yes, I can't get through."

"I don't feel any wards." He looked at me doubtfully, then reached towards the fence.

"Careful!" I almost yanked him away, but he drew his hand back on his own. He was shaking his head at me.

"No wards now, we can go in!" I could just make out a pale shape beyond the fence, through the trees. It was hard to be sure in the dim light reflected from the cloudy sky, but it could be the same warehouse from Jody's memory. Heavy wards against elves, if they really had existed, would support that. I wasn't sure if the dread I felt was my own or a reflection of what I felt in her mind.

"No," I said, "you are to go back to my house and wait. I will contact you by note if I can't make it back by morning."

"But with no wards, I can come in, I can help! It is better with two!"

"No, I don't know why they would have dropped the wards. If it is a trap – I can explain my presence. There's no explanation for you, unless you think I should be bringing you as an offering." He shuddered a 'no' to that. "Go back, now." Finally he seemed to remember our agreement. He nodded reluctantly and disappeared without another word.

I followed the fence line down to the gravel road and the heavy metal grate. There was a padlock fastening the gate to the fence on the side, but its main purpose seemed to be to stop vehicles. It was only a little over a meter tall, and with no wards…

I paused and looked into the darkness. There was no one I could see, but then I couldn't see very far. I cast hominem revelio. Nothing. I dropped the muffliato and replaced it with a silencio on myself; it would be much more effective. I clambered over the fence and hurried up to the warehouse.

Everything about it spoke of abandonment and emptiness. The heavy metal door in front of me was half open; darkness and silence were beyond. Yet Kob said the boy had driven up here – it must have only been a few hours ago. I cast hominem revelio through the gap in the door. Nothing. The same for specialis revelio. I ducked inside without touching the door.

I stood for a few moments against the inside wall in the darkness. I could see nothing but there was no sound or movement around me. I cast lumos. I was in a small entryway with ratty gray carpeting and bare cinderblock walls. There were two metal doors opposite me, closed. There was nothing else of note aside from a cardboard box against a side wall. I nudged it with my foot; empty. I leaned my head against the left-hand door. I doused my lumos and listened in the darkness. Nothing. I eased the door open and cast my two revelios again. And again, nothing.

My lumos revealed an office. There was a light-green metal desk that looked to be circa 1965, a wooden swivel chair halfway across the room, a low wooden fruit crate in the desk's kneehole. The top of the desk was scratched, but bare. I pulled open all the drawers quickly, one after another. All I found were paperclips, a roll of tape and blank, empty envelopes.

I went back to the entryway and approached the other door. I went through my little routine again, beginning to feel a bit foolish, but not willing to drop it yet. When I cast lumos on the other side, I realized I was in a much larger space. The weight of the darkness above made me want to duck.

I strengthened the spell and in the new light I could see that I was in the body of the warehouse. There was the metal roof above, smashed electric lights hung down from it. It must have been a muggle building originally. The room stretched about twenty-five meters long, mostly empty.

There were five low wood tables, two set against a corner, the other three in rows. Near the middle of the floor was a blue and silver formica-topped kitchen table, leaves extended, about the same vintage as the desk in the other room. A few wooden fruit crates and cardboard boxes were scattered near the walls of the room. Some large glass jars stood on the tables in the corner. They were much of a piece with the jar in my lab. A metal rack bearing a roll of brown butcher paper stood next to the tables. A packing station, clearly enough. As for the other tables, well I couldn't be sure.

I tipped up the cardboard boxes and crates carefully. One box held lids and jars but the rest were empty. The whole place was abandoned and stripped out.

The formica table was spotlessly clean. Some markings on the floor nearby caught my eye. White paint precisely marked out a square, about a meter on all sides, and a small circle inside the square, near the middle of one side. I had no idea what it meant, if anything. I supposed it could be something to do with the original purpose of the building.

There was a door in the far wall of the room. I went over to it, extinguished my light and went through my routine again. When I stepped through and cast lumos I saw that I was in a short corridor of identical proportions to the entryway, and like the entryway, there were two doors leading off. One I could tell would lead to the outside. I tried the other one. It was a closet-sized WC. I scowled at the dirty mirror in disgust. I wasn't getting anywhere. It was looking very much like I was too late, again.

Why had this place been abandoned when Kob had seen Lee visit it just a few hours ago? The first reason that came to mind, that they had somehow caught wind of Kob, made my heart begin to race. But no, I tried to convince myself, wouldn't they have tried to capture him or trap the place? I wanted to hurry and finish here.

I left the WC to examine the corridor. The layout was the same as the entryway, but here the floor was bare concrete. An incongruous sagging pink loveseat slouched against one wall, and leaning near it were a stack of flattened cardboard boxes.

I saw it when I shoved aside the stack of cardboard; a small white hand lay on its side, clenched, severed at the wrist.

My heart was pounding again and I felt a rush of cold that went out to my fingertips. I could smell dark wet grass, vomit, mud and metal. I slid down and sat with my back against the wall. All at once I was covered with sweat and I vomited on the floor. It's not the same, I tried to tell myself, that's not how it happened, you couldn't see any hand there. I couldn't shake the feeling of overwhelming powerlessness and dread. I was two hours late, too late, I was always too late. I put my head on my knees and tried to take deep breaths. The smell of vomit wasn't helping. I cast to clean it up, my hand shaking.

I groaned and put my head on my knees again. When I squeezed my eyes shut I could see a circle around me, I flinched like they were about to cast on me. I tried to pull myself from the past and see where I was now. I was sitting on concrete, not grass, I was dry and unhurt, there was a wall behind me.

This wouldn't do! I forced myself to stagger up and get myself into the WC. The tap worked, thankfully. I splashed some water over my face and rinsed out my mouth, thought the rusty iron taste made my stomach roil again.

I knew I needed to finish up and get out. This place wasn't exactly secure; they could very well come back at any time. And the hand; I needed to track that hand. What I told Kob went for me as well; if I was going to see this through I had to look at it.

I let the cold water run across my hands until my joints ached with it. At least they weren't shaking anymore. I returned to the corridor. I could see the waxy little hand just where I had found it. I forced myself to look at it closely.

The long knobby fingers marked it as a house elf's. The wrist was cut through the joint at an angle, clean, very clean. I sat down while I examined it. It was perfect, like looking at an anatomical diagram, every tendon, vessel, bone and muscle in its place. It had a perfect terrible beauty. It finally struck me what was so wrong about it, the same as with the eyes in my cellar: there was no blood, no fluid at all had spilled, yet the hand didn't seem to be anemic. The muscles were red and the veins stood up on the back of the hand.

The hand was clenched around something. I made myself pick it up and work on opening the fingers. What it had been holding was just a scrap of tan fabric with a ragged edge. I folded the scrap carefully into my pocket.

This time I had much more than a single drop of blood in the belly of a fly. I made a small nick on the back of the hand near the wrist and squeezed several drops of blood out on the floor, then added a few of my own. I wrapped the hand carefully in my handkerchief and placed it reluctantly in my coat pocket. I would have to remember not to put my own hand in there.

I took out my marker and once again cast a venio. The hand's owner must have been gone for some time; it started out quite slowly. I just had enough time to obliterate the marks on the floor with my wand before the dark line shot off out the back door. I hurried after it.

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A/N: Well, of course it's not well known to the outside world, but Slytherin house has fantastic toga parties.