You live on your knees.
So this is what's in store.
Pull your head up,
no one cares at all.
You fooled yourself in the past,
believing what you wanted to.
A landmine spring.
All blown apart.
Did not expect this shit at all,
to go through this again.
Charles Smith's cottage, Brazil
Charles and I continued to converse into the night. We remained seated out on the dusty, wooden porch. Draco popped his head out the front door a few times during our talk to make sure that I was okay and sometime during the night Khalida disappeared in search of a late night snack.
An awkward silence fell over Charles and I as I grasped for a way to voice some of the more difficult and personal questions I wanted to ask him. Questions that I knew would be hard for him to answer, or perhaps he would refuse to answer them, but either way they were things that I had to know.
"What was it like to loose your magic?" Charles was obviously startled by my question and he began to fidget anxiously.
"It was the most painful thing I've ever had the displeasure of experiencing," he replied in a hoarse whisper, "I still remember it like it was yesterday, some spots are a little blurry but I'll never forget the way it felt. The only thing I can equate it to is having your very blood sucked out of every pore of your body."
"I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about now," Charles responded sadly, "That time has long past now and I've had time to deal with it." A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "There are times I forget," he chuckled softly, "and I'll catch myself searching for my wand. After an hour or two it hits me that even if I find it, I can't use it."
"I'm sorry," I said once more.
"Would you quit that," he chided, "You're beginning to sound like your father. That's all I heard from him for weeks after it happened."
"Weren't you angry with him though? I think I would be."
"O, I was furious for quite awhile," Charles replied, "but I think I was angrier with myself then I was with your father. We both did a stupid thing and I ended up paying for it, I certainly couldn't put all of the blame on Harry."
"He blamed himself for enough as it was," he added softly.
"But you were still friends," I offered.
"Of course we were," Charles responded quickly, "Friends don't let little things like that tear them apart. Harry is to this day, and always will be, like a brother to me."
"Did he...did he ever tell you what happened to Hagrid?" I questioned hesitantly. Charles thought about it for a few minutes before shaking his head. "What about Voldemort, do you know what happened to him?"
"Well, I know he's still alive," Charles responded, "but as far as what happened between Harry and him in that last battle I'm afraid Harry never really spoke much about it. I saw him a few days after and he looked quite upset. Then he seemed to go a little barmy for awhile and spent all his time tracking down the remaining Death Eaters."
"I wonder what happened," I mumbled to myself.
"Who knows? I was a bit preoccupied with my own troubles at the time."
"So he defeated Voldemort after your accident?"
"About a week after, if I remember correctly," Charles answered thoughtfully.
"I wish I...HEY, DO YOU SEE THAT?" I jumped up from the porch and pointed off into the night sky. Charles followed the invisible path from the tip of my finger and we watched silently as a snowy white owl flew through the darkness.
Charles nervously ran a hand through his dark, brown hair as the owl descended. It was obvious that he was only accustomed to recieving mail from one person, and the owl flying toward us did not belong to that particular person.
Without giving Charles or I a second look it soared past us and ripped right through the screen door. We both jumped to our feet in surprise but stopped in shock a moment later when Draco's frantic shouting echoed from inside the small cottage.
"Hooty, you found me! Hooty, you get down from there right now! Give me that letter you stupid owl!"
A fuzzy white blur shot back through the screen door and came to rest on my shoulder. Draco came racing out of the cottage right after, letting the screen door slam behind him. The owl gave me the most adorable and innocent look that it possibly could and held out it's right leg where a small, green and silver envelope was tied with a black bow.
"Stupid owl," Draco muttered under his breath as I untied the letter.
I excepted the bird to take flight once again but instead it flew up to the roof of the cottage and sat primly on the center of the peak. Draco shook his fist at the little owl, causing it to ruffle its feathers in indignation before turning around and ignoring him completely.
"Did you just call that owl Hooty?" Charles asked curiously. I turned to look at Draco as he shrugged in embarassment.
"He's my owl," Draco admitted.
"Well your Hooty reminds me a lot of Harry's owl," Charles stated wistfully as he stared at the bird, "Not his most recent owl but the one he had when I met him."
"You mean Hedwig?" Draco offered and Charles nodded in reply. "That's because Hooty is one of Hedwig's chicks," he added with a smirk.
"How did you get him then?" I questioned.
"I didn't get him from Potter if that's what you're thinking," Draco replied, "Lupin gave him to me."
"I wonder why," I responded thoughtfully. Charles seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"Why would Harry give the chick to Lupin and then Lupin give it to you?" Charles asked, "It doesn't make much sense to me."
"Who knows?" Draco said with a shrug, "I can hardly remember back that far now but I think Lupin said something about Harry not needing another owl. Does it really matter?"
"Not really," Charles stated as his eyes remained fixed on the small white bird, "It's almost creepy how much your owl looks like Hedwig though."
"Whatever happened to Hedwig?" I asked curiously. Charles and Draco exchanged a puzzled look. "You mean neither one of you knows?"
"Well it was just an owl," Draco replied, "and it was Potter's owl."
"Do you know?" I asked Charles in a pleading tone. He thought about the question for a couple moments before nodding.
"I think Harry mentioned something about the owl dying from sickness right after laying a few eggs but when he never mentioned any chicks I just assumed they had all died."
Draco became bored with our conversation and opened the silver and green envelope without either Charles or I noticing. He let out a small chuckle, a derisive snort and then a very loud gasp. A small piece of newspaper fell from his fingertips and floated down to land ontop of my right foot. I waited for Draco to pick it up but instead he remained paralyzed in shock.
"What is it?" Charles asked as I bent over and my hand closed over the scrap of paper.
The paper was slightly creased and wrinkled so I smoothed it out flat before flipping it over. My breathing began to quicken and my heartrate jumped as I read the small article cut from what looked to be The New York Times.
CULT SUSPECTED IN RIDDLE KIDNAPPING
by David Stint
On Sunday afternoon Tom Jansa, a spokesperson for the Minneapolis Sherriff's Department, stated that new evidence has come to light in the kidnapping of eighteen year old Jenny Riddle. This new evidence suggests that a fanatical religious cult may be involved or may be directly responsible for her disappearance.
"A number of strange objects have been found near what is left of the Riddle residence," Jansa stated, "and we've also recieved a large number of eye witness accounts placing Miss Riddle in New York on September the 9th. She was seen in the company of a group of strange looking men wearing cloaks, most of them black. Some witnesses have also stated that a few of the men wore black masks with white lightning bolt type symbols painted down the middle."
When questioned whether authorities had any other information about the strange group, Jansa stated, "A very small number of witnesses claim to have seen the men holding strange sticks, comparable to a magician's wand." Jansa was also asked about the strange objects recovered at the Riddle residence which was destroyed by a fire not long after Jenny Riddle left Minnesota.
"I cannot comment directly on what was found because all evidence is still under investigation. I will say that we are on the lookout for any strange activity and people who are dressed similarly to the description of the men who were seen with Miss Riddle. We are asking the public to also keep a close eye out for suspicious behavior." Jansa then went on to say that anyone who may have information on the whereabouts of Jenny Riddle or anyone who has seen a man or woman matching the description above should immediately call their local sherriff's department.
Jansa was then questioned about the possibility that Jenny Riddle joined the cult willingly. "We have considered that possibility," Jansa stated, "and according to James Riddle's estate lawyer, who was also a good friend of the families, it may be possible that Miss Riddle was depressed over her father's death and was easily susceptible the types of manipulation religious cults and fanatical groups often use."
The estate lawyer, a Mr. Charles Smith, commented that he had spoken to Jenny for a short time after reading her father's will and after she left Minneapolis she called him once more from London. "Jenny told me that she had found some old friends of her father," stated Smith, "She also mentioned something about magic and that she believed her father was a wizard."
"I knew her father's death was very hard on her," Smith continued, "I just wish she would have come to me instead of turning to some group that's more than likely using her and doing who knows what else to her. I just want her home safe and sound, I feel I really owe it to James."
Smith was unable to continue the interview at this point but it is obvious that he is hoping, as we all are, that Jenny Riddle will be found alive and well.
Charles angrily snatched the clipping out of my hands and stared at it in disbelief. There was a picture of the fake, older Charles Smith in the center of the article. He had one hand over his mouth and tears were running down his cheeks.
"Great Merlin..." Charles muttered to himself.
"Who sent that?" I asked Draco.
While I was reading the article out loud he had pulled out a small slip of parchment. I couldn't make out who it was from, but the handwriting was very neat and dainty.
"Parkinson," Draco mumbled, "and it sounds like it's getting worse in London. The British government is going after anyone who may look suspicious, which basically means anyone who appears to be a wizard. They've taken a few people in for questioning, some wizards and witches and some are just strange looking muggles. She also says that there's some kind of ministry coverup going on over Granger's death. Apparently they're saying it was some kind of freak accident."
"What about the explosion at Hogwarts?" I questioned, "Does she mention that?"
"She does and it's not good news, trust me."
"Spill it Draco, I doubt there's anything that can shock me at this point."
"She says..." Draco began as he finished the letter and folded it neatly, "She says that it was a muggle."
"A what?" Charles and I exclaimed at the same time.
"A muggle," Draco responded warily, "Somehow a muggle got into the school and blew himself up."
"A suicide bomber?" I said thoughtfully. Charles and Draco gave me a puzzled look. "Suicide bombers are terrorists who strap bombs to themselves and then blow themselves up somewhere where its crowded and they can hurt a lot of people."
"That's insane," Charles stated and Draco nodded in agreement.
"Well obviously," I replied, "Was anyone hurt?"
"A few students are cut and bruised, but nothing serious," Draco responded, "and the school's already repaired itself. The worst that's come of it is a large amount of anti-muggle sentiment among various wizarding groups."
"Someone's trying to stir up trouble," Charles interrupted.
"Not hard to imagine who," Draco stated dryly.
"Khalida should hear this. I wonder where she is?" I commented thoughtfully, "She's been gone for a really long time."
As if on cue a dark shadow passed overhead and a moment later Khalida was standing at the other end of the small porch with Hooty perched on her shoulder. She patted the small bird gently before urging it to take flight once again. Instead of flying up to the roof, it flew over to sit on the porch banister directly to my left.
"Nice owl," Khalida commented as she headed into the house.
"Nice owl?" Draco sneered, "Where the hell have you been? We have a situation here and you're out having a bloody buffet."
"Bloody buffet?" Charles snickered. Khalida tossed her long, black hair to one side and leveled a glare at both men.
"For your information," the vampire hissed, "I also found some food fit for weak, pathetic mortals."
"Food?" Draco asked hopefully, his gray eyes brightening immediately.
"Yes food," Khalida responded, "and if you want some then follow me to the kitchen. You can set the table."
Draco opened the screen door immediately, allowing Khalida to pass thorugh the doorway first, Charles trailing behind her. He gave me a questioning look but I didn't move.
"I was wondering if it would be okay if I borrow your owl?" I questioned and Draco shrugged.
"Go ahead. I'm sure I don't have to warn you about not telling anyone where we are."
"Of course you don't have to. Now go set the table," I urged. Draco rolled his eyes in exasperation.
"To think, a Malfoy doing domestic work...the shame!"
After giving one last dramatic sigh Draco headed into the cottage, allowing the screen door to close slowly behind him. I turned my attention to the owl and it seemed to give me a questioning look.
"You wouldn't happen to have a pen and paper would you?" I asked the bird. The owl cocked its head to one side and then flew off. A minute later he returned holding a small pencil and scrap of paper in its beak. "Smart bird," I said appraisingly. Hooty gave a smug hoot and waited patiently for me to write my letter.
Dear Severus,
I know you asked Draco not to contact you anymore but you're the smartest wizard I know and I need some information.
Can you please tell me what a Humonculous is? I need all of the info you can get. I have a feeling Khalida may know but she's not talking. Please Severus, this is really, really important and I need a reply fast.
JLP
I let out a thouthful "huh" as I stared at the initials. Jenny Lillian Potter, JLP. A sad smile formed on my lips and I wiped away a stray tear. I finally had a good idea of how my father had come up with my name.
"James and Lily Potter," I whispered softly as I watched a streak of white take off through the night sky with a tiny piece of paper held securly in its beak. "Rest in Peace."
dSz
dSz
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry I took so long to update again. My roomate is now moving in so everything is all over the place again. Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter and hopefully the spelling isn't too awful. My spell check decided to stop working this evening for some reason I can't understand. I did read through it myself but I probably missed a few typos I'm sure.
Also, I just bought myself a website! So soon I'll have a good site to post my fiction stories, poetry, pics, music, etc... I'll keep you all posted.
If you visit my current website and go to the fanfiction music you'll find the song "Requiem" by Cave In. I used the lyrics from that song for chapter 28-33 of Uncharnel. I suggest you check it out, it's a great song!