Chapter Twenty-Eight
Deceptions
It was bitterly cold; definitely much colder than she was used to for that time of year. Even inside the tavern it seemed chilly, for it was square and open and no corner was unprotected from the draft that came in every time someone went in or out. That also made it impossible to come or leave unnoticed. Perhaps it was a way for the owner to make certain that no one snuck out and left a tab, the woman at the bar mused to herself. Still, it didn't lend to any sort of privacy. It also didn't help that it was the only tavern in the village.
"Don't you have any hot drinks?" Lisa asked with a shiver.
"Still not used to the weather?" the bartender tsked, mixing something beside her. "It hasn't even gotten cold yet."
"I would hate to think of what your idea of cold is, then," Lisa complained. "What is that foul smell?"
"Your drink, Froken," the man said. But as she sipped it, Lisa felt a curious tingle going through her. It took her a moment to realize that the sensation had nothing to do with the drink. "Still not good enough?"
"Perhaps it is not the burning of her tongue that she yearns for, but the sort of vintage that burns from deep within," suggested a crisp yet gentile voice from behind her. She really didn't have to turn around to see whose it was, for she had recognized it immediately. "Perhaps a bottle of Thorn of the Valley would do the trick."
"And what might that be?" Lisa asked, glancing over at Foncé as he approached the bar.
"A dark rose wine, but one that contains hidden dangers," Foncé replied easily. "The thorns on that particular variety of vine are as sharp as dragon teeth, making it next to impossible to harvest them without being cut. Despite this defense or perhaps even because of it, the blossoms are so delicate that they must be harvested by hand. A sacrifice of blood is such a petty thing to those who crave perfection. I myself will ignore a shield of thorns if it protects something worth my attention. You…" he began, taking a seat close to her. "Seem to be a bit lost. Your accent is quite forced, and you do not seem at home in this country."
"I'm from Ireland, actually," Lisa said. "Lisa Wolfe, I am a new teacher at Durmstrang."
"Are you really? You do not seem to be the type of woman to be interested in teaching," Foncé said, gazing at her searchingly.
"It's rather funny you should say that, considering I've never wanted to be anything but a teacher my entire life," Lisa said. "It is strange how life seems to move you in certain directions, isn't it?"
"I do not know much about life, but if you speak of destiny, I know it well," Foncé said. "Do you know yours?"
"I know what I want out of life, but I don't profess to know the future," Lisa said, coddling the new drink in her hand.
"Perhaps that is something I can teach you," Foncé said. "Aren't you going to try the wine? I designed it myself, you know."
"You are a winemaker?" Lisa asked. "I thought you were just the local vampire."
"One may be a vegetarian and still become a teacher," he pointed out. "I take my winemaking as seriously as I take my meals. It is about nurturing life with the utmost care, letting it grow and blossom to its full potential… and then crushing it so that you can capture that essence and transform into something timeless. Vampires and wines are rather a lot alike; we also grow stronger and more potent with age, more distinguishable and refined. But perhaps it is best if you experience that for yourself?"
"What do you mean?" Lisa asked.
"The wine, of course," Foncé said smoothly. "You have yet to taste it."
"Oh, that! Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," Lisa said with a soft chuckle, reaching for the glass.
"Good evening, Fru Archibald," the bartender called out.
Lisa found a hand over the glass she was just about to pick up as Foncé quickly slid it in front of him.
"Good evening, Adil. It's a bit cold in here, tonight, isn't it? Maybe it's just the atmosphere," Rolanda said cheerfully. The fireplace suddenly flared up as she passed it, causing several of the patrons sitting near it to scoot their chairs back from it. "Oh, so that is why! Good evening, Marquis. How goes the war?"
"I wouldn't know, I've been residing here," Foncé said curtly.
"Have you really?" Rolanda said in such a way it was obvious that she didn't believe it. "Sorry, Lisa, didn't see you there. Let me just get my drink and I'll be out of your hair… oh, but you don't have one either, do you, Lisa? Foncé, have you no honor, sitting next to a girl like that and not getting her a drink. Adil, get Lisa and me a brew," she said, sitting down on the other side of her. "So Wingard, what are you doing in this neck of the woods?" she asked, then chortled to herself. Lisa covered her face in apparent embarrassment.
"Where else would I come to check how receptive the local patrons are to my wines?" Foncé parried.
"Well, I suppose that's allowed, just so long as it's not the patrons themselves you are interested in," Rolanda decided, taking a drink. "Most of the locals here are rather skittish, you see. They're suspicious of strangers and anything strange in general, but it seems your wines have gotten a following nonetheless. Maybe it's being drank by people who just don't know any better."
"Many are young enough to see the benefit of opening oneself up to new experiences, where some of the older citizens of this village and your school seem to be closed minded to everything but their 'earned wisdom,' willing to spout their outdated advice to their dying days," Foncé said coolly.
"That might be true of some," Rolanda acknowledged with a thin smile. "Just because some of us are getting on in age doesn't mean we're stagnant, you know. But then, you wouldn't know, would you? You don't understand what it's like to grow older, so you can't really understand its benefits. That's quite all right, Marquis, everyone has their disadvantages. You just have more than your fair share, is all. My goodness, is that the time? Is it that late already?" Immediately Foncé whipped his head around to stare at the clock, but it was nowhere near dawn. He turned back around, squinting when he saw the triumphant look on the woman's face. "We'd better get back to the school, Lisa. Classes tomorrow, after all." Looking embarrassed and apologetic, Lisa got up and reluctantly followed the other woman out into the door.
The two of them walked in silence for some time, both a bit concerned that they might have been followed. But after they had reached the swamp, the fear finally faded.
"You picked a fine time to step in," Laura said quietly. "I could very well have had him where I wanted him tonight!"
"Funny, I have a feeling he was thinking the same thing, and there was a very high possibility that he would have been right," Rolanda decided. "Besides, I promised your father…"
"That again! Rolanda, I'm an adult now!" Laura protested. "I'm even an Auror…well, almost, at any rate. How am I possibly going to find out anything if you keep interfering?"
"Has it ever occurred to you that it'd be a lot more suspicious if there wasn't anything to get in the way? You can be too eager, you know, and if he suspects there is something odd going on he will be on his guard," Rolanda said. Laura grew more thoughtful. "Never give a man what he wants on the first date… especially if he's a vampire."
"Fine, maybe you have a point, but it would be nice if I could report in with something better than 'nothing to report yet.' They're counting on me, you know."
"Report that you've established contact and you will move cautiously forward," Rolanda advised. "Don't worry so much about how long it takes. If you try to push too hard, you'll just make mistakes. This sort of thing takes time, and Harry knows that more than anyone."
"I suppose you're right," Laura said with a sigh.
"Good, then let's head to my office for a real drink," Rolanda said with a wink.
"You never change," Laura teased.
"Certainly I do. I just know which things to change and which things to keep is all," Rolanda explained with amusement as the two of them walked back to the castle.
To say that Bagman had changed over the last few months would have been an understatement. Every time Arnold Jeffers visited his client, he couldn't help but be impressed by it. The man who had gotten to the point that he couldn't touch the floor was now doing pushups with ease as he had not done in decades, self-motivated, perhaps, by the progress that Jeffers had on his rights to exercise for health reasons. No longer did he look like a heart attack waiting to happen, and although he had a long way to go yet, the changes were still quite dramatic. It was as if he had somehow found a new leash on life; but how that could be possible when facing such a sentence as his, Jeffers couldn't fathom. At least, the man seemed pleased with Jeffers, and Bagman's son was paying handsomely to retain him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Bagman. You're looking well," Jeffers said politely, taking a seat across from him in the waiting room.
"Thanks in part to your efforts," Ludo acknowledged. "What of our current position?"
"The prison has formally admitted that they are at least partially responsible for the intrusion on your cell, Mr. Bagman. They believe the vampire who snuck into your cell must have entered in a gaseous form, and the security wards must have assumed it was simply another ghost and ignored it. They are making adjustments so that it doesn't happen again and are eager to reach some sort of settlement," Jeffers said.
"Of course they are. They want to keep the current Warden out of the court room," Bagman grunted. "I suppose the Ministry are doing the same to keep Mysteries from being exposed?"
"I'm afraid they don't need to," Jeffers said. "They have filed it as a war complaint, so it will not be addressed until after the altercations are over…and then by a committee," he added under his breath.
"Damned bureaucracy!" Bagmen growled, Jeffers nodding sympathetically. "Well, what about the Black case?"
"There I can report better news," Jeffers said with a smile. "I am hearing from my colleagues that Professor Snape is having quite some trouble finding a counselor willing to represent him in that case."
"No Vallid?" Bagman asked with a gleam in his eye.
"It wouldn't appear so. He has gone to three other offices, but the counselors either weren't willing to take a chance on this case or they simply didn't want to get between a Snape and Black battle," Jeffers explained.
"The latter was probably why Vallid bowed out. And have you already suggested what he might do with it once he's acquired it?" Bagman asked.
"Yes, he seemed quite interested in the idea of handing it over to the society to safeguard, although he did say he wanted to think it over. He had been much more focused on 'making Snape realize that thing is not a toy,' as he put it," Jeffers said.
"Bravo! Good man! At least someone in that family has some sense," Bagman said approvingly. "I will leave it in your capable hands then, Mr. Jeffers," he declared, picking a letter out of his stack of post.
When Severus walked into the civil office, several looked up in surprise, and some of them even scattered after seeing the dark glint in his eyes as memories of their school days flooded back to them.
"Professor Snape! Whatever are you doing here?" one of them asked.
"I would like a counselor and without any backpedaling or excuses, if you don't mind, Mr. Prowse." he said irritably.
"Very well, let me check my schedule," the wizard said as calmly as he could, carefully thumbing to find a busy page.
"At your service, Professor," a voice called out from the other side of the room. Everyone else in the office turned in surprise, while Severus squinted slightly until he realized who it was. "I'll gladly do whatever I can to help."
"Mr. Weasley, you are but a paralegal, I highly doubt…"
"I have a practicing license now, and yes, that may be for probate, but that isn't the point," Tim Weasley said. "It isn't about how risky the case is, it is about who is asking. As many times as he's saved our necks, I would have expected a better response out of all you stuffed robes."
"I agree," Robert March chimed in from where he stood with a stack of scrolls in his arms. "I'll help you prep, Tim, just tell me what you need…"
"One moment! I'll speak to you both in private about this later," Prowse said. But despite the fact that it was meant as a dismissal, neither of them moved. "Professor Snape, despite the enthusiasm of my assistants, I will be honest with you. Your case has very little chance of doing well in court because of how many credible witnesses there are. Even your sister and you have both admitted to your parts in this. If you allow Weasley to take this any further, I guarantee you that 'slim' chance will be reduced to no chance in hell. Now, if you want my legal opinion, I would suggest you try and settle this matter out of court… with a mediator if needed, although privately would be better. Once that Mr. Black has had some chance to cool off, you may be able to solve this with a simple apology…"
"I am not apologizing for saving his life… no matter how much I now regret doing it!" Severus snapped ferociously. "Weasley, since you don't seem to have an office of your own, I suggest we go somewhere else to discuss the matter… you as well, Mr. March."
"But he's just a clerk!" Prowse protested. But Robert knew better than to stick around under the circumstances and quickly found an "in" basket for the scrolls and hurried to catch up.
It was snowing heavily now. The fascination of snowballs, snowmen and wizard sledding had worn off after a week, and their thoughts had turned towards the approaching holiday and the tedious reviews and tests that were bound to come before it. But Lucky wasn't in the mood to study anymore, spending most her free time in the Owl Room writing letters to Dale. Leu and Noah, however, were quite diligent with their books, often sitting in the Owl room companionably to study next to her.
"So what are you writing him about?" Leu asked after she had been quiet for a while.
"I'm finding out if he's coming over for Yule," Lucky said.
"Then we're not going over to Maurice's house again?" Leu asked.
"No, we just went there last year because they weren't back from the Otherworld yet. Usually it's at our house," Lucky explained. "Jackie tends to go a bit overboard, so it's usually safer to keep out of sight so you don't get sucked into a whole bunch of extra chores."
"I don't mind extra chores, you know that," Leu said solemnly. Lucky gave him a dirty look. "You don't suppose that Uncle Sirius will come, do you?"
"Huh? Yeah, that would go over like Greek Fire in a dynamite factory. I have a feeling they'll skip it," she said, but then looked thoughtful. "But I doubt they'd skip Christmas Eve at the Willowby's house. If we see fireworks over the holiday, it'll probably be then."
"Fireworks? Am I going to have fireworks for my birthday?" Natalie asked loudly from the doorway. Quite a number of students were wandering in now as the last of the afternoon classes finished for the evening.
"Are you serious? Don't you get enough as it is?" Hope protested, stomping in behind her. "Honestly, she gets twice as much presents as everyone else and nobody ever forgets her birthday. It's not fair!"
"You get to have friends over and ice cream parties, and you are the only person who gets presents on your birthday," Natalie pointed out. "I have to share my birthday with everyone. It isn't easy being born on a holiday, is it, Ambrose?"
"Well, maybe not, but it does mean we get to have a party every year," Ambrose reasoned as he and Dirk walked in to take their seats. "I suppose you're talking about the holidays, then?"
"You honestly didn't think they'd be talking about their marks," Dirk said critically. "Although I hear lately that some people don't have much positive to talk about."
"Oh, lay off, Dirk, you know none of that is going to matter if I've done well on my exams anyhow. The rest of this year is a lame duck for me," Lucky said.
"I seriously doubt that your parents would agree with you. And either way, I hope that doesn't mean you consider your position with the Owls in the same light," Dirk said sternly.
"No, of course not, you know that still matters to me," Lucky protested with a sigh.
"Good, because Ambrose and I have found a way to fund the rest of the boathouse and docks project," Dirk said, pulling out some envelopes from his bag.
"What is that? A raffle maybe?" Lucky asked when she saw him thumbing through the envelope.
"They're gift certificates to Hogsmeade," Ambrose explained cheerfully. "Nobody here has been able to do any shopping with our trips suspended, which hurts both us and the town's business. So we've agreed to sell gift certificates to all the major shops in town, and in return, we get back a percentage of every galleon spent to pay for the boathouse."
"We can sell them to the students to be given out as gifts, even pair them with the candy bars that Honeydukes made, perhaps tied with ribbon and the like so they look like proper gifts," Dirk explained.
"That's splendid! Who all is in there?" Hope asked excitedly.
"Willowby's, Honeydukes, Dragonwing Deli, Broomsticks, Pannage, Zonko's… practically every business there, really, even the Divine Vision is participating for a change. The gypsies who run the shop may not like Snape, but they realize that their Christmas holiday will be quite dead without these," Dirk explained, passing around one of the envelopes so that the other students could look at them.
"It's a shame your father isn't back yet, Ambrose," Delia sighed, looking them over. "But I suppose any gift certificate for there would be pointless, wouldn't it?"
"No it wouldn't, but I had to make some special ones for his shop," Ambrose said, flipping through them and drawing one out. "See? 'Gift certificate for one item in Toby's Trinkets to be presented at the counter.' The person buying the certificate decides how much they want to spend on that person."
"Aren't you afraid you'll just end up selling a bunch of those for two Knuts a piece or something?" Garvan asked flatly.
"If you were only going to spend two knuts on someone, I'd be ashamed to admit it," Dirk said. "You ought to print how much they spent on those anyway, Ambrose. Maybe it'll keep the gift giver honest."
"It wouldn't hurt for you to trust people to do the right thing, Dirk," Ambrose said back unconcernedly. "We'll leave it as it is, that's how father would want it if he were here."
"But how are they going to spend their certificates if your father isn't back yet?" Leu asked.
"I plan on opening the shop myself, of course," Ambrose said. "It's all right; my father already gave me permission to open it if I had a mind to."
"I don't see how you could possibly open it when the shelves are all bare," Hope said.
"Don't worry, they won't be," Ambrose promised, receiving some skeptical looks.
"Works for me. I think I'll take one of those," Lucky decided, holding up a coin. "We have to start somewhere, right?"
"I've already bought a couple myself," Dirk chuckled, taking her money and putting it into a different envelope. "And if any of the other Owls want to help sell them, Ambrose and I have plenty of envelopes to go around."
"I'll help," Leu quickly volunteered, and Dirk sorted through the envelopes and then handed him one. "I think I'll ask the Headmaster first."
"I seriously doubt he'd be interested in buying one. Most of these are tailored for students," Dirk warned.
"Are there any in there for the boutique?" Lucky asked.
"Yes," Ambrose answered.
"He'll buy one," Lucky smirked. "Especially if it's from Leu… so will Craw, and Andrew, maybe Black…"
"I get it, Lucky. Llewellyn, you're in charge of selling to the faculty," Dirk said.
"All right. I can handle that," Leu decided. "Do you suppose we will bring in enough money to build the new boat house for Noah?"
"Yes, if we do well enough," Dirk said. "And I'd say we have a good chance of it, considering it's the only shopping they can possibly get done until they head home."
"I'm going to go ahead up. He's bound to be there this close to dinner," Leu decided.
"At least he's eager," Dirk decided.
"Yeah, though in some ways I think he'd be better off if he wasn't," Lucky said, turning back to her letter.
"It will nice when we can finish up these tests," Leu admitted as they left the library, "although it'd be nicer if you could come with us, Noah."
"Don't worry about me, Leu. With the boathouse being such a mess, I think I'm going to just stay in the castle and spend the holidays visiting my girlfriend and some of the other ghosts. They always get more lively this time of year, and they'll probably throw a party and all sorts of fun stuff, you just have fun wherever it is you're going."
"All right," Leu said solemnly. "For your sake, I will try not to feel guilty about having to leave you behind."
"Thanks, I appreciate that," Noah responded with an almost identical expression. "So what do you want for Christmas, anyway?"
"What do I want?" Leu repeated blankly. "I really haven't thought about it… I really don't want much of anything."
"You have to want something. Your parents will simply pester you if you don't," Noah explained. "They'll have to buy you something, and your mum will likely be dithering if you don't at least declare one thing you want. Parents are like that, you know, especially around Christmas. They get all anxious wondering if you like what they give you, so if they know what you want it's like a safety net, see?"
"I wouldn't want to worry them," Leu decided. "I know, I'll ask Keir, Jimmy and Colby about what they normally get for Christmas, and then I'll pick something that sounds the most reasonable and easy to find."
"Sounds quite logical," Noah decided as they got to the top of the back stairs. "Oh, it looks like the Study is closed up. Who do you suppose that is?"
"Looks like one of the parents," Leu said when he saw the tall dark-haired man standing in front of the dragon with clutched fists. "And he doesn't look happy," he added before walking down the corridor. "Hullo, sir. I take it you're not expected?"
The man turned around and furrowed his eyes at the boy.
"What odd hair you have," the man said flatly.
"Some of the girls like it. They say it makes him look like Taylor Hicks," Noah said.
"Who is that?" the man asked with a frown.
"We have no idea," Leu admitted. "Can we help you?"
"I am looking for the Headmaster, the Deputy Headmaster, the Muggle Studies teacher, and my son, in that order. So if you would happen to know where any of them are, you might be of some use."
"I'm not sure where the Headmaster is, but many of the staff who aren't boarding at the school tend to leave early because of the war and all," Leu explained. "Professor Weasley might still be here, though. She tends to stay until the last minute."
"I can go check for you real quick. It'll only take me a second to pop down to her office," Noah volunteered, sinking into the floor. Leu looked down at where he went for a moment, and then began looking around to keep from staring despite the fact that the wizard seemed to be staring at him.
"You look familiar, I know I've seen you before. You're the goblin boy, aren't you?" the wizard asked.
"I'm Llewellyn Murphy," Leu said solemnly.
"Do you always talk to ghosts, Llewellyn Murphy?" the wizard asked.
"No, sir. Only to that one," Leu replied.
"Mr. Murphy."
Leu quickly turned around to see the Headmaster walking up the corridor in a heavy black cloak still damp from the snow.
"Professor Snape! I would like a few words with you, if you don't mind!" the wizard said angrily.
"That would explain why you're here outside my office," Severus agreed, putting a hand on the stone figure. It slowly seemed to move behind on its own, making Leu wonder if he had missed a silent gesture or command. "And what business do you have being here, Mr. Murphy? Is it personal or school related?"
"Oh, um…" Leu glanced at the envelope thoughtfully. "It's mostly school related, actually."
"Very well, then you may wait in my sitting room while I talk with Mr. Atchison," Severus said, showing them in.
"Mr. Atchison?" Leu repeated, giving the wizard a good hard look. "So you're Dirk's father?"
"Please concern yourself with your own affairs, Mr. Murphy. If it doesn't have anything to do with you or any of your friends then I suggest you learn how to stay out of things," Severus said sternly.
"But…"
"In," Severus ordered, lifting up the curtain. Gazing at him uncertainly, Leu shuffled into the back room. "I suppose you've been hearing rumors about that silly lawsuit business with the Stone."
"This is not about that, although I agree with Abraxus that you would have been better off had you turned that thing over to the Society in the first place," Kris Atchison said. "I am here because I received a very disturbing letter suggesting that my son was seen taking some sort of Muggle test here at Hogwarts."
"Mr. Atchison, your son has planned to go into Business and Magical Industry, which requires taking extra Muggle Studies courses. This is nothing that should surprise you, considering he has been taking classes for years now," Severus said.
"Teaching Dirk how to talk to them is one thing. Encouraging him to go to a Muggle university is quite another!" Kris snapped.
"Mr. Atchison, regardless of the reason behind Dirk wanting to take the test, I can assure you from what I know of him academically that he has no interest whatsoever into going into a Muggle profession, let alone into one of their schools. It is more likely that he was simply curious, or perhaps it was because it was an acceptable way out of taking Commander Bellamy's Defense Fitness test that day," Severus suggested.
"I highly doubt Dirk would go to such lengths to get out of a test!" Kris said.
"Why not? You would have," Severus said expressionlessly. Kris met his gaze, but only for a moment.
"My son's academic standards far exceeded my own, as you are perfectly aware. He is an ambitious and a dedicated individual who has never lost focus of any goal he has set for himself…"
"I quite agree with you," Severus interrupted. "And I do not believe that has changed about him in the slightest. However, I am a bit concerned about a parent who would question something as simple as what exams your son decided to take, especially one in his seventh year and preparing to graduate. To be blunt, he isn't a child anymore and in a few short months he will want to start making his own decisions with his life. If you don't start loosening the reigns, he is quite likely to break his neck trying to charge out of the gates."
"He is my son and I will raise him as I see fit," Kris said.
"Perhaps, but you don't have that much time left to do so. In six months, your control of him will be reduced to an advisory position, and then only if he chooses to listen. That frightens you, doesn't it? Why else attempt to tighten your grip now?" Severus asked.
"How dare you speak to me like that!" Kris said, his face reddening with rage.
"I dare because no one else will, and I happen to care about how well my students are going to fare outside of this school when they have graduated. If you don't start giving him space, he will take it, and if you keep behaving this way, you will lose his support one way or the other. I have seen it too often not to know how this one will turn out, Kris. If you want to salvage your relationship with your son, you are going to have to adapt to his beliefs. He no longer has to adapt to yours."
"He does for the next six months!" Kris barked angrily. "He has taken enough classes in Muggle Studies for his career path, has he not? I want him removed from that class for the rest of the year… and I don't want him going on any more school trips to Hogsmeade! I want him focusing on regular studies."
"Hogsmeade trips have already been suspended due to real threats," Severus said expressionlessly.
"Good, I don't want him near it. And I'd like to be informed if he steps out of line again."
"And who is going to inform me when you step out of line, I wonder?" Severus asked. Kris stared at him.
"I am beginning to see why Abraxus does not like you very much. You're getting as balmy as old Dumbledore got in the end!" Kris said.
"Thank you, I consider that a compliment."
"You would!" Kris snapped, and then stormed out of the room and out the Doorlift. Severus walked over and gazed out the empty doorway, lost in thought.
"Are they in any danger?"
Severus glanced around to see Leu peeking out behind the curtain with an expression even more serious than usual.
"I don't think Mr. Atchison would harm his son, short of taking away his financial support, which I do not think Dirk cares about anyway," Severus said, walking back to his desk.
"But what about Nancy? Is she going to be all right?" Leu asked insistently. "If anything bad happened to her, I think I'd just die."
"Into the dramatics already, are we?" Severus said dryly. "Never mind, you shouldn't have been eavesdropping anyway, especially when it really has nothing to do with you. What was the school related business that you wanted to discuss?"
"Oh… um, fundraiser," Leu explained, walking up to the desk. "Would you be interested in buying some gift certificates for any Hogsmeade shops?" Severus stared at him. "I have some for the dress shop in here," Leu added, sifting through the envelope. Rolling his eyes, Severus reluctantly got in his desk for his coin pouch.
Amadeus woke up to painfully stiffened hands, immediately reminding him that he had fallen asleep on Nelson's couch instead of his own comfortably warm bed. Would she even notice him gone, let alone care? Not that she had been holding much interest to him lately. Strange how after awhile things began to lose their luster; it had become dull and no longer a challenge with absolutely no room to progress. It had grown as stagnant as his life in general had been, he brooded, rubbing his hands until a balm was thrown in his direction. Somehow he managed to catch it, the motion disrupting his thoughts.
"Use that. We can't have you losing any speed because of muscle cramps or blisters, not after all the work we've put in," Nelson said.
"It is all the work we've been doing that got them this way in the first place," Amadeus complained.
"And look how far we've come. All we need now is one clear shot, and the world will be changed forever," Nelson said, sounding strangely cheerful.
"For some reason I don't think it's going to be as easy as hitting the target dummy in the back fields," Amadeus said.
"Well, never mind that for now. I just received word that we secured a new business contract that surely become one of the best investments we've made together," Nelson said.
"Oh. What sort of contract this time?" Amadeus asked, unable to hide his boredom.
"It is a contract with Gringotts Bank and the town of Myrkinbrek, for merchandise from Magic Mirror Inc," Nelson explained. Amadeus couldn't help but stare at him.
"Magic Mirror? But that company was in ruin! I thought we bought that thing up simply so that we could liquidate it."
"That was before I took it upon myself to advertise them as vampire detectors," Nelson said with a triumphant smile. "It would appear that the goblins have been suffering from attacks as well and they've become quite paranoid about wizards in their town. At the same time, they cannot really afford to keep anyone out of Myrkinbrek during their busiest time of year. So the company has offered to install mirrors on all the shop doors to discourage any vampires from trying to gain entrance. They're even installing some in Heckletown, although it is being marketed quite differently there. The radicals believe that some wizard is simply using the war as a cover, so that he might kill goblins as he pleases."
"What? Why would they think that?" Amadeus asked blankly.
"They're radicals, you fool! I already explained that," Nelson said. "Apparently, most of the goblin corpses they've found so far had their throats cut instead of traditional marks, and despite the fact they have been found drained of blood there have been speculation someone else is behind it. The bank, of course, is in a hurry to clear the matter up one way or another. So much in a hurry that they are willing to go through a wizard company to get to the bottom of it. They do not trust the Ministry; they think they are once again getting ignored when it comes to their part in this. But they also no that our company is no fan of the current administration and decided, rightly enough, that money solves more problems than politics do."
"It doesn't solve everything though, does it?" Amadeus challenged grumpily.
"I think you'll soon change your mind," Nelson said, holding out a pair of gift certificates.
"What are those for?" Amadeus asked, taking one so he could read it.
"These are our tickets in," Nelson explained with a thin smile.
