It's another Christmas chapter! And good timing, too, it's snowy and freezing here.
Thanks to the many people who have reviewed and PM'ed me-it means more than you know. Please review again as I'd love your thoughts on this chapter in particular!
Interview 3 with Victim No. 3
Those Present: Mrs. Hermione Granger, Magical Law Office, Interviewer; Mr. Harry Potter, Head Auror
Interviewer: Draco, thanks for coming in.
Victim No. 3: Wait, where's Longbottom? Can't you guys make up your mind? I've talked to four different people already.
Interviewer: We know, and we apologize. I promise that we wouldn't have decided to talk with you if it wasn't extremely important. We are, as you know, the ones overseeing the entire investigation over the Provence Utopian Community. Now, several victims have commented that they would like their identities to be disconnected from the community, and we at the Ministry would like to honor that.
Victim No. 3: How the hell are you going to do that?
Interviewer: Please let me finish. There are few thorough ways that we could do this. And please know that this is extremely unusual. The ministry refuses—and rightly so—to modify any Wizard's memory. However, there are a few ways we can keep everything that we have discovered hidden from those who have not witnessed it. The group of those who have some knowledge of the Provence Utopian Community, as you know, is still around fifty people, including all the victims, yourself included. As long as that number stays there, we can probably enact a Secret Keeper.
Victim No. 3: That's not what it was made for.
Interviewer: No, but it works similarly. And at the very least it could contain some of the information and significantly lengthen the time before any direct connections to the victims are made.
Victim No. 3: Okay…
Interviewer: It is—We're getting outside of typical Department protocol here, but we think that this circumstance demands special attention—
Victim No. 3: You mean to cover up for the fact that you didn't find us for three years?
Interviewer: Please! Let's—let's try to focus.
Victim No. 3: Focus? I was gone for three years, and you never even officially admitted I was missing!
Interviewer: And that works in your favor now! If you were never missing, there is no place for you to have escaped from. Now please, there is a point to us bringing you out here.
Victim No. 3: What is it, then?
Interviewer: We mentioned the idea of a Secret Keeper to the other victims. Now the thing about a Secret Keeper in this situation is that it needs to be someone who intimately knows the situation and who knows what needs to be kept secret. Someone who witnessed everything.
Victim No. 3: One of the victims.
Interviewer: Exactly. And—
Victim No. 3: And someone nominated me.
Interviewer: Actually, everyone nominated you.
Victim No. 3: Everyone.
Interviewer: All but one. Now I need to stress that this is a position of trust. All the other victims were asked who they would trust as a Secret Keeper—And they picked you.
Victim No. 3: I—All of them?
Interviewer: Are—are you all right?
Victim No. 3: Who was the one?
Interviewer: I can't tell you. All victims are priv—
Victim No. 3: Don't bother. I know who it was. Secret Keepers tie information to their soul, right? And we're talking tons of information. Astoria's record alone—anyway. Won't that do something to me?
Interviewer: That's what I was going to explain next. It does tie information to the soul, but it doesn't work both ways. The Secret is kept due to the life and strength of the Keeper's soul. The soul itself remains unaffected.
Victim No. 3: And you have evidence about that?
Interviewer: Well, it's a working theory. We don't have, you know, a reason we can pin it to, but the Department of Mysteries has made an effort over the last 500 years to interview dozens of Secret Keepers once their Secret was revealed and asked how it affected them. I have the research here for you to look over. All of them said that they didn't notice it affecting them in anyway. They all only said that whenever they shared the Secret, it felt like they were able to release a breath they didn't know they were holding.
Victim No. 3: Right, that's reassuring.
Interviewer: I want to emphasize that this is also not the first time large information has been hidden with a Secret Keeper, although the Ministry only uses it in extreme cases. In the 1940s a Hebridean Black got loose around Coventry, and a Secret Keeper was used to contain the information from Muggles instead of using the mass amounts of memory charms the exposure would have required. That worked exceedingly well with Muggles, and I personally interviewed the Secret Keeper, and they reported no ill effects.
However, this is something that you should take time to think about. Go home, do your own research. It's not something to go into lightly.
Victim No. 3: Right. Is that it?
Interviewer: Um, yes. I think that—
Victim No. 3: Great, thanks for dragging me out here for that. I'll let myself out.
[scraping of chairs]
December 15th, 2006
The next Friday, Draco didn't go to work because Astoria was sick. Instead, he stayed and helped take care of Scorp while she lay in bed with a bowl by her side. They were supposed to be hosting the poker night again, but they had moved to Martin and Anna's.
Draco dreaded going by himself as he didn't like being alone with George, but Astoria insisted that he go anyway.
And so he bundled up Scorp with his favorite blanket and stuffed snake after dinner and headed over to Anna and Martin's room
When he got there, the room was completely silent, with Anna and Martin staring fixedly at the white nail file in Angelina's hands.
"See, this is why I didn't want to tell anybody. Are you going to be able to pretend nothing happened?" George asked. "And are we going to play cards or what?"
"It's very surprising to us," Martin said, looking reproachfully at George as Draco took Scorp into the nursery to go to sleep. "I wouldn't rush us. And really, George you waited a very long time to tell us."
"Well, now that we all know, why don't we start talking plans and options." Draco could just hear George as he tucked the blanket around Scorp.
The table was silent again when he walked in.
"You knew?" Martin asked.
"I just told him last week," George said.
Martin nodded.
"So, anyway, we should probably at least pretend to play cards." George picked up the deck and dealt the hand. "Any ideas on how to get out?"
"We have to get rid of our bracelets," Anna said.
"There's a spell that would do it," Angelina said. "It's Lentesco. It doesn't change the core of an object, but it affects its shape. We could slip it off without damaging it."
"Do you think it would react to being left unattached to someone? Don't you think it would notice?"
Angelina shrugged. "It could."
"But we'd need a wand for that," Draco said. "We'll have to escape without magic."
"Well, then we can't," Anna said, "because we have these bracelets."
"What about other ways?" Martin asked. "How do they always know what we are doing, anyway?"
"It's the ceiling," Draco said. "It acts like some sort of window so that they can see and hear us. I read something about it in school.
"Yeah? Which book? I swear I would have remembered that," George asked.
"Extracurricular," Draco said, thinking of the vanishing cabinet and rearranging his cards.
"We figured that, too," Angelina said. "We did some testing. They can always hear you, and they can generally see you. We had some luck hiding under the table—you know, putting a barrier between yourself and the ceiling—but they put a stop to that pretty fast. It's hard not to be suspicious hiding under a table."
"Right," George said, "But the good news is that the safest place is actually the yard. Guards don't hear as well and have more distractions, so it's actually a better place for serious conversations."
George looked pointedly at Draco, and Draco stared even harder at his cards.
Angelina's nail file, now laying on the table, began its tranformation from white to purple, and all five of them sighed.
"Right then. Let's get this party started," said George. "I'm going all in." And he pushed his meager pile of chips into the center of the table.
That was the last conversation they had on escaping for a while, however, because Christmas was coming up, and it seemed Gerard was always walking around the yard bouncing on his heels and talking about how lovely pine trees smelled and wouldn't Christmas be a cheerful event. Draco worked every day until Christmas, eager to make sure his family was well-provided for. He'd already asked Gerard for a set of new quills and notebooks, in addition to charcoals and pastels, for Astoria to start using. Her old notebooks were looking ratty and worn out. Christmas Eve he worked all day, coming home for dinner and falling asleep, exhausted, before eight o'clock.
December 25th, 2006
Draco woke up to an empty bed on Christmas morning. Astoria was already holding Scorp, telling him about the different ornaments on the Christmas tree.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she said.
"What time is it?" Draco asked, sitting up.
"A little after eight. I was just about to let Scorpius wake you up."
Astoria sat on the bed and let Scorp crawl his way over the covers to Draco's lap.
"I have something to tell you," she said, but before she could continue, there was a knock at the door.
She was off the bed and pulling on a housecoat before Draco could remember where he'd put his.
"Hello!" she said as she opened the door, and Draco could hear Anna and Martin wishing them both a Merry Christmas, and then the clink of teacups as Anna handed them to Astoria.
"They brought us coffee," Astoria said, and she brought the cups over to Draco.
She had just handed Draco his cup and settled on the covers when she yelped and stared at her bracelet.
"No breakfast in bed for us, huh?" Draco said, and he lifted Scorp up so that he could get up.
"It's so stupid," Astoria said to herself.
"Oh, Gerard just likes Christmas. It could be worse."
She sighed and took Scorp from him so he could get his housecoat from behind the bathroom door.
The snow had melted in the week's unusually warm weather, so when they stepped into the yard, Draco could see patches of brown grass through the tables and couches Gerard had arranged around the yard. A large tree stood in the center of the yard, and presents were heaped underneath it.
Gerard was already patting toddlers on the head and complimenting everyone on their beautiful families while skirting around the tables and chairs. It seemed everyone else was awake, and there was a chaos of small children running and crawling, adults drinking tea and coffee, and babies cooing from their mounds of blankets.
They had apparently missed Gerard's welcome, and when they stepped outside, George and Angelina were already opening presents, while Marie opened one with Baldwin, Peter at her elbow wearing his ferocious smile.
Anna and Martin ran off to find baby Gerry, who had disappeared around the Christmas tree, so Astoria led Draco excitedly to an empty couch furthest from the food and crowd.
"All right, well, I've got something to tell you." She settled on the couch with her feet tucked under her. "Yesterday, Gerard took me to the Administration building, and—"
"What?!" Why the hell would you let him take you there?"
"Oh, Draco. It's fine. Angelina went with me—"
"Angelina."
"Oh, calm down, that's not the point! Anna was going to come with me, but baby Tom—well, anyway. The point is—we're going to need another bassinet."
"What? What's wrong with the one we have?"
"Nothing. Draco, Draco listen to me. I said we're going to need another bassinet. A permanent one. Who knows, we might even get a room upgrade. Gerard was deliriously happy."
"Wha—? You mean—."
"Yes! Draco, I'm pregnant!" She smiled up at him, Scorp squirming on her lap and reaching for a bright red present nearest him under the tree.
"You're sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I'm almost eight weeks along. I didn't notice with all the complications from—from, you know."
Draco thought with relief about Scorp having a little brother or sister and how his arms perhaps wouldn't feel so empty anymore when he watched Scorp sleep. He leaned forward and kissed Astoria's forehead.
"So you're happy about it?" she asked quietly.
"Yes. Of course I'm happy about it. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Well, you haven't been, you know, very excited about this sort of thing. And Gerard just came up and asked me if I would go, and I—I didn't think I could wait."
"I wish you had told me," he murmured into her hair as she snuggled up next to him.
"I know. I'm sorry."
They sat there while Scorpius wriggled his way out of Astoria's lap so that he could slide off the couch.
"Did you find out if it's a boy or a girl?" he asked as Scorp ran towards the presents under the tree and started tugging at the red box's ribbons.
"No, but Gerard let me take the potion back with me. Want to find out?" She jumped up and took his hand. "Angie, can you watch Scorp?" she called as she passed George and Angelina. "He's trying to open a present over there."
She ran back to their room, tugging on Draco's hand to make him hurry. Once inside, she rushed to the pantry where Draco saw a small white canister sitting on the top shelf.
"It should work until the end of the day, or at least that's what Gerard told me," Astoria said as she removed the lid and set the jar on the table. "Now all we need is a piece of my hair."
Astoria plucked it and dropped it into the jar. Both of them waited with held breath.
The potion turned a bright pink.
"I knew it!" Astoria said, and she threw her arms around Draco and kissed him. He caught her easily and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her for a second off her feet.
When they came apart, Draco saw tears running down her cheeks.
"Aster, don't cry," he said.
She laughed. "You don't have to look so concerned. I'm—I'm not sad. I just—Draco, I'm so happy! I probably shouldn't be, but I can't help it and I am."
She rested her head on his chest and the two of them watched the potion slowly lose its bright color so that it eventually settled at a faint blush pink.
He rested his head on hers. "I think that's fine, love."
They were only broken out of their reverie by George appearing at their doorway, which Draco just now noticed was open.
"Oh, uh, sorry there. It's just that the Bug probably needs something to eat. He's awfully cranky for Christmas morning."
George stood there rather awkwardly while Draco untangled his grip from Astoria. She ran over and scooped up a pouty-looking Scorp.
"You're going to have a baby sister!" she said, lifting him over her head.
Scorp wasn't in the mood for fun and games however, and let out an unhappy cry.
"Oh, you're fine, little bug. Let's get you something to eat. I'll tell you what. Since its Christmas, you can have whatever you want. Which means, I think, that you are going to eat a lot of peaches and cinnamon rolls and not a lot of protein, but that's ok."
Draco couldn't hear the rest because Astoria had carried Scorp outside and towards the tables covered in white tablecloths and platter after platter of sweet breads, egg dishes, and fruit.
Draco watched Astoria pick up a plate and start heaping food on it for Scorpius. He sighed and rubbed his face with both hands.
"Doing all right?" George asked.
"Yeah," Draco said, and he turned to the pantry to pour himself a very large fire whisky. "Do you think Gerard will take it the wrong way if I get drunk before lunch?"
"Oh, come on. You just got good news. I bet Gerard would hold your hair for you while you threw up."
"Right." Draco downed the whisky.
"You seem to be handling this better." George said, leaning against the doorway.
"Yeah, well." And Draco wasn't sure how to talk about the empty feeling he'd had when putting Scorpius to bed. But at that moment—and maybe it was the whisky, or the fact that Christmas even in this godforsaken place wasn't too bad—but he didn't feel empty at all.