Chapter 29 - Duplicitous Nature

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Previously on The Forgiven: Liar provided Dumbledore with the Mirror of Erised to keep the Sorcerer's Stone safe. Also, the Headmaster decided to leave the transference of the Stone to Grimm. Instead of implanting the artifact into the Mirror, she instead entered a counterfeit replica, and plans to destroy the original.

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It was late afternoon when the Forgiven browsed the school's library.

The tall windows allowed long rays of orange and yellow to shine through the building's interior. The lighting struck the bookshelves with a pleasant glow, lending a warm atmosphere to the place.

The smell of parchment and ancient tomes wafted through the air, enticing curious noses with knowledge of its contents. Faint sounds of rhythmic scratching of ink on paper and turning pages echoed through the halls. All the while, Grimm stood awkwardly in one of the aisles wearing, or at least attempting to wear a genuine-looking smile.

"Oi, what's with that face?" Liar asked her.

Do you need to poop? Norse wrote and began drawing a poop doodle.

"Gaaaggghhh!" Grimm yelled in frustration. "Forget it! I was trying to look friendly!"

"…..You are failing terribly."

"I know, Norse! Fock it! Just call him over," she hissed, as she put up her hood.

"By your command!" Liar waved his hand to a certain boy reading in the aisle. "HEY! NEVI! Fancy meeting you here! In a library. In Hogwarts. What are the odds?"

Neville jumped at being called out to suddenly and looked in Liar's direction.

"Liar? Is that you?!"

"Oh, forgot about the enchantment for a moment. Yes, tis I! Surprised, are we?"

"Well—yeah! So the other two must be…"

Grimm and Norse waved at him in turn. Grimm was still hiding her face under her hood, while Norse rushed up to hug him.

As Neville was whisked off the ground, a small voice came from beside them.

"Are they friends of yours, Neville?" asked a frizzy haired girl.

"Oh! Yes, that's right! This is…"

"Lynus," Liar lied and bowed gracefully. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, young lady. The tall huggy one is Norris, and the short broody one there is Grimma."

"Grimma?!" Hermione gasped. The young witch ran to the leader of the Forgiven and stopped right in front of her. She was practically beaming with her smile.

"Ah…" Grimm remembered. "The girl I helped with the Platform. So we meet again." She dropped her illusion briefly, leaned forward and rustled Hermione's head fondly.

The group managed to find themselves a private study table far away from the other students. There, Norse and Liar attempted to help Neville with his homework. Hermione immersed herself in an enormous encyclopedia. And Grimm casually ate a sandwich, while reading a book, which from time to time, emitted a dark spirit that threatened to possess her.

"Grimma?" Hermione spoke up, after closing her tome.

"Hrm?"

"You can't eat in the library. If Madam Pince catches you—"

"She won't. Lynus confunded her."

"WHAT?!"

"It's fine~" Grimm assured her.

Hermione did not feel assured.

"If we didn't, she'd keep trying to take my sandwich, or kick me out, or complain about how I'm not supposed to read from the restricted section, even though we have Albus's permission."

"That book is from the restricted section?!" she squeaked.

"All the best ones are. The fun ones in any case."

Hermione then went into deep thought about something.

"You're not allowed to go into the restricted section, if that's what you're planning," Grimm told her, having discerned the girl's intentions.

"That is a double standard."

Grimm thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"So it is. What book would you like to read? If it's one that won't try to curse you, I wouldn't mind fetching it."

Hermione started contemplating once more. After a moment, she looked to see if anyone was listening. As she confirmed no one was, the girl stared serious eyed at Grimm.

"I need to find a book on Nicholas Flamel," she whispered.

The moment the name left her lips, all three of the Forgiven dropped what they were doing, and began listening intently. A tense atmosphere developed between them, laced with a faint sense of panic. Norse and Liar could barely keep their poker faces in check. Grimm on the other hand…

"Hahaha! What a clever girl! I knew there was something special about you." Grimm rubbed Hermione's frizzy hair again. Then in a straighter tone, she asked, "Now, why would you concern yourself over something like that?"

"You recognize the name?"

"The reason, Granger."

"It's research for an essay."

Grimm and Liar used some quick Legilimency to probe Hermione's real reason.

"Mhmm… An essay, huh?"

"Yes."

"And what sort of assignment would require you to pick out a book from the restricted section without permission?"

"Um…! It's an extra credit sort of thing…!"

Grimm smiled slyly at watching Hermione squirm. Unable to find the smart little witch anything, but adorable. The young woman teased her and pinched her precious cheek a bit.

"Your lying needs work, Granger. I'll tell you this, you don't need to go into the restricted section to find Nicholas Flamel."

"What? No. I've checked all the records in the non-restricted area. There's nothing listed about Nicholas Flamel anywhere in the last century!"

"Apparently, you're missing something."

"…If you know who he is, couldn't you simply tell me?"

"I could—but I won't. It's better if you figure it out yourself." Grimm's teasing smile turned into a caressing one. "Don't rely on others for an answer. You're smart enough to find it on your own, I can tell. You're a different kind of brilliant, Granger." She tapped her nose, and gave a light chuckle. "It would be criminal to rob this experience from you."

Hermione seemed to understand something from that and nodded firmly. She didn't find the answer she was looking for, but Grimm still provided her with a clue. The little witch abruptly stood and began scouring the book shelves again for something she missed.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to encourage her like that?" Liar asked with a hint of caution.

"It's fine. Even if they discovered the truth, what are they going to do? Somehow get through all the defensive measures the professors set up and steal a fake Stone?"

"…Fair point. They could get into a great deal of trouble, though."

"The sign of any promising student. Being exposed to a moderate amount of danger is good nourishment for the soul."

"Hm…You are quite taken with that girl."

"I am."

"Um….What are you all talking about?" Neville asked hesitantly.

"Never you mind, Nevsy old boy. Despite what Grimm thinks, we don't want you anywhere near shouting distance of any trouble."

"That's right," she joined. "It's different for Granger and her friends. You, we have a promise to keep with your parents."

Neville looked downcast.

"Alright…" he replied in a small voice, and went back to his paper.

Norse and Liar couldn't help, but frown at the clear difference in treatment Grimm gave Neville and Hermione. Sure, they were in agreement with what she said about keeping Neville safe. But the blatant favoritism did bother them a bit. It clearly had a discouraging effect on the boy.

As if to alieve the estranged moment, an owl soared overhead and dropped an envelope from above. Grimm deftly snatched the envelope out of the air and flicked her dagger across its spine. Her eyes raced back and forth across the letter. When she finished, the others could sense a shift in her demeanor.

"We need to go," Grimm motioned to the two, and promptly left her seat.

Norse and Liar were following suit, before Liar turned around for a moment.

"See ya, Nev! Best of luck with your homework!"

Neville wanted to say something back, but while he hesitated, the three had already disappeared.

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Part 2

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The Forgiven left Hogwarts and made their way down the road to Hogsmeade. During their trek, they conversed amongst themselves in hushed voices.

"How are we on the students?" Grimm asked.

"I've probed every juvenile mind in there. Nothing but worries over grades, Harry Potter gossip, and some rumor about a lucky fox that grants wishes," Liar answered.

"Heh! Who says McGonogall doesn't have a sense of humor?"

"No one knows a thing about the Sorcerer's Stone."

"Obviously. I don't know why Albus bothered ordering us to check, but tells us probing the professors' minds is unnecessary."

"Bit hypocritical, really."

"So, how are we on the professors?"

"Only ones I haven't probed are McGonogall, Snape, and Quirrell. It's funny. Despite how frail Quirrell may be, the man lives up to his reputation as Defense Against Dark Arts professor."

"You can skip McGonogall. Focus on Snape. Greaseball has a history with the other side and Voldemort."

"And what of Quirrell?"

"Lower priority."

"Alright. It may take some time. The potions master is particularly proficient in Occlumency."

"It takes what it takes. Albus vouches for him, but Snape's hiding something, I can feel it. We need to know what that is."

"Roger dodger," Lair saluted.

Grimm then turned to Norse.

"How are we on Troll Garden?"

Norse shook her head.

"Disappeared into the wind. I've launched several raids on their strongholds, but found barely anyone of worth. No results from questioning either."

"And their known associates?"

Norse flashed a sinister smile.

Obliterated. Looted. Our coffers grow healthy once more.

"I'd go as far to say we're swimming in galleons," Liar chimed in. "I should mention that our drug venture is doing optimally well. It's actually becoming more business than Nick and I can handle. Perhaps we should start looking into hiring some interns," he joked.

"We might have to."

"I was joking."

"I wasn't." Grimm continued. "It's something I thought might happen. The point is, we have some money to throw around, right? Drop some galleons into some hands and get me info around Hogsmeade, and start up our information network again in Knockturn Alley. I want to know Troll Garden's numbers, how they're organized, what their resources are, and who they've got."

The other two nodded at her orders.

When their briefing ended, the group found themselves in front of Hog's Head Inn.

They passed through the tavern doors and reactively took in the whole of the establishment. The sun had set for a while now and tired town workers were beginning to file in to drink and complain about their jobs. Littered among them were several persons of the shadier kind.

Although Hog's Head had its share of questionable patrons, these were a different breed. The three Forgiven sensed the hands on their wands, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. They were an on edge bunch, who could be nothing else but mercenaries.

Grimm, Liar, and Norse, made note of them and went straight to the bar.

"'Lo, Abe," Liar greeted.

"Liar. Grimm. Norse," Aberforth grunted to each in turn. "The usual?"

"Not for me, thanks. I will however, order whatever those kindly gentlemen are having over yonder." Liar pointed to a trio of mercenaries in the corner.

Aberforth filled three great mugs with some kind of beverage that was halfway sludge and halfway malt beer. Liar dropped some coin and cheerfully took the mugs in his hands.

"I'm off to make friends," he turned with a business-like smile, and headed off.

Aberforth turned to the remaining two.

"Norse?"

Norse gave the barkeep a wide grin. The old man dropped a large tankard the size of a small barrel in front of her, and filled it with mead. Norse took a huge gulp and went to the nearest drinking game to gather intel. She was surprisingly good at spying, as long as it came with alcohol.

"Grimm?" Aberforth addressed the last Forgiven.

"Black Blood."

"Hm," the barkeep nodded.

A smooth, venomous liquid was produced in a tall glass. Grimm took a small sip and slipped him the owl letter she received earlier.

"I'll be honest. I didn't expect you to respond so quickly," said Aberforth.

"We were waiting for exactly this."

"How are things at the school?"

"Besides the troll attack a couple months back, everything's fine—almost boringly so."

"Boring is good. And Albus?"

"You know him." Grimm took a sip of her of her drink. "The Headmaster is sitting in his ivory tower, being hard to read, playing his cards close to the chest—annoying,"

"I'll bet. Always been a high and mighty fool."

Grimm raised her glass to him.

The Forgiven had met Aberforth a while back, near when they first arrived at Hogwarts. Grimm and the owner of Hog's Head became unusually fast friends over their mutual dislike of Dumbledore and their mutual paranoia of coming dangers. None of the important details were revealed to Aberforth about the Forgiven, but he knew they fulfilled some sort of role similar to the Order of the Phoenix. Despite the strangeness accompanying the three, the man was grew relatively fond of each of them, and developed a peculiar give and take relationship.

"So, what have you—"

"Hey, pretty lady~ You drinkin' alone? Hm? How com' yer face iz fuzzy?" a middle aged man interrupted Grimm.

He was just about to take the seat left by Norse when something stopped him cold in his tracks.

Sweat fell from his face and sobered his head. He had a hand on the bar counter, and in between his middle and index finger, was a straight, silver dagger. The blade embedded itself deep into the table's wood and felt cool to the man's skin.

His eyes parted wide, staring at Grimm, who didn't utter a single word. She didn't even spare him the barest of looks.

In the murderous silence, the man slinked away with his tail between his legs.

"You're paying for that," Aberforth eyed the new hole in his counter.

"I'll fix it. Not like your counter isn't banged up enough already."

"It has character."

"You should get better clientele for this place, Abe. Keep letting people like that in here, and I might stab more than just your table." Grimm started making small frustrated stabs into the table as she spoke.

"Have you had enough to drink already? And stop stabbing my counter."

"I'm adding more character."

"If I changed the clientele of this place, I'd have to kick you three out. They may be a sleazy bunch, but they aren't bad customers."

"Oh, really?" Grimm's stabbing intensified.

"Yes." He pulled closer to her. "Cause they're good not just for their money."

Grimm stopped stabbing the counter.

"So they're here then," she said with the glass near her lips.

"You told me to let you know if I heard anything. Word's traveling around the town. 'Troll Garden", they say…"

Grimm turned her head and eyed some of the shadier drinkers the Forgiven noted before.

"That them?"

"Yeah. My regulars confirm as much."

"I'll take care of it. Anything else I should know about?"

"More of what I told you the other day. Trolls coming down the mountains. Unfamiliar faces gathering on the outer fringes. And now with the name Troll Garden thrown into the mix…"

"Yeah, things are looking dicey. They haven't found a way into Hogwarts yet, at least."

"If they take their time, they won't have to."

"The scenic route. Enchantments are good, but spend enough time wandering the Forest with enough people, you'll eventually map out where Hogwarts is. You think that's what they'll resort to?"

"No timetable. Seemingly unlimited manpower and resources at their disposal. Why not?"

"Great," she swirled the drink in her glass pensively.

"Keep the students safe, Grimm. Albus isn't taking this seriously enough. He's playing some game years down the road. The Ministry's busy with their own bullshit and the Gringotts theft."

"I know, Abe. It's why we're here," she said seriously. "Neutralizing threats is what we do."

As Grimm finished her drink and was getting up to leave, Aberforth grasped her arm.

"There's one more thing—a different rumor."

"What is it?"

"Something happening in the woods. The say some devilish creature's stalking the forest."

"Yeah?"

"People are saying it feeds on unicorns."

"…..I'll look into it."

They both nodded to each other.

Grimm left the bar counter and walked to a drinking mercenary. Under the cover of her cloak, she pointed her wand at him.

Imperio.

The man calmly put down his mug and followed her outside. One by one, Grimm came back, abducted another target, and took them out of the Inn. With a mixture of speed and distraction provided by Norse and Liar, no one noticed the growing string of disappearances. Eventually, Grimm managed to empty the Hog's Head of its mercenary population, taking the last one out back.

She removed the Imperius Curse from the guild member of Troll Garden and kicked him into a pit. The man fell clumsily into the hole and landed on something soft.

Under the pale moon light that filtered into the pit, the wizard saw what was under him and screamed in terror. They were the dead bodies of the ones Grimm previously abducted. He looked up in a panic to see the witch's disturbing visage.

With the moon shining on her back, and the shadows obscuring her face—Grimm looked like a dark specter passing judgment on the man's soul. Not only her appearance, but the air around her felt cruel and cold.

She pointed her wand down at him.

Crucio.

Tree roots of pitch black grew from her wand and invaded her victim's skin. Unearthly pain and anguish infiltrated every cell of his being.

After a few minutes, Grimm probed his memories. His mind was disheveled and broken enough to there were no resistances to her Legilimens. So damaged he was, that she even had to repair parts of his thoughts in order to read them. When the witch reconfirmed the information was the same as what she gathered from the others, Grimm drew back from his memories.

Avada Kedavra.

A green light briefly illuminated the darkness.

Reducto.

Grimm reduced all the bodies into dust and buried the hole.

She stared at the unmarked grave for a little while with a dead expression. Something was a little off, she felt. The witch couldn't put her finger on it, but in the end, chose to ignore any misgivings.

Grimm turned away, and walked back to the Hog's Head.

The Forgiven had recently found a loophole in the Crucio's backlash effect. After many experiments, they learned that the rebound effect wasn't as prominent if they were to take their Animagus forms while they slept. This meant they could use the Crucio curse without much real consequence.

At least…

That is what they thought at the time.