37 – Answering Questions
Elizabett blanched, her heart rising into her throat, her knees beginning to buckle.
"Answer me," the man angrily grabbed her shoulders to give her a shake.
Elizabett's hand instinctively rose and struck her assailant in the chest, pushing him backward with an unspoken spell while she regained her faculties. "I may ask the same question?" she spat.
"I was following you," he replied standing straight and rubbing the sore spot at the middle of his rib cage.
"Following me? How? Why?" Elizabett gritted her teeth in anger, the pupils of her eyes narrowing to pin-dots, showing a nearly white iris encompassed by a deep blue ring.
"I was in Hogsmeade and saw you leave. I wanted to talk to you, but you slipped away. I wondered where you were going," Thomas replied. "I could always find you when we were kids playing Hide and Seek. You leave a distinct magical trail. Funny how no one else could sense it, but I always could," he stood proudly. "But, what you just did was exhausting. You obviously didn't want to be followed, and clearly you know who lives there," he nodded sharply toward Gellert's home. "What I can't understand is why or how you could be involved with him."
Elizabett grabbed her friend's elbow and steered him deeper into the ally. "We can't talk here," she whispered fearfully. "Clear your mind. I'll Apparate us to a safe place."
Thomas guardedly pulled his elbow away, but she reached again and took a firm hold. "You have to trust me," she insisted as they hastily disappeared into the night.
The half moon shone through the clouds, and the rocky ground was slippery under their feet as Elizabett held up her long skirt, leading the way up a steep incline to the ruins of an ancient baronial castle atop a cliff overlooking a magnificent valley. Climbing over a boulder, they entered through a hole in a south battlement, silently traversing the narrow, winding stairwell to an upper level. They moved swiftly along the damp corridor, the stone façade around the window casings casting oddly-shaped shadows, allowing only a sliver of moonlight to filter in to guide their path.
Finally, Elizabett pushed an ornate, wooden door open, and Thomas found him standing in what had once been an elegant bedroom. The draperies were now nothing but shreds of cloth hanging in wispy threads from the high curtain rails of the sagging four-poster bed. A large, baroque armchair and matching table, layered with years of dust, sat in the corner by a great, stone fireplace. The colors of the rug on the floor could not be distinguished between the dirt and years of fading, and a rat could be heard scurrying from somewhere in the room.
Elizabett stepped in and raised her wand, cautiously casting privacy spells, that were probably unnecessary, to protect them. Then, turning to face her friend, she appeared ghostly white in the half shadow. They stood for a moment, staring at each other, not knowing what to say or where to begin, but it was Thomas who broke the silence with a simple word.
"Well?" he asked, his jaw tightening, making is square face fuller.
Elizabett wrung her hands and took a deep breath. "My telling you anything could jeopardize so much," she worried.
"Try," Thomas stated flatly.
"I met Gellert years ago…" she began.
"Gellert?? On a first name basis, are we?" the young man roared.
"Thomas, please," she pleaded. "Let me finish."
He folded his arms across his broad chest and stood stock-still waiting for an answer that he didn't expect or necessarily want to hear.
"Years ago, when I was traveling through Europe, Gellert approached me. I was ignorant and naïve. He treated me with kindness and respect, listened to my ideas and encouraged me in my work. He said that there were dangers in traveling alone and suggested that it would be safer for us to travel together. We did so for several months. He never behaved inappropriately with me, and gave me no reason to mistrust him. At one point, he became fearful, and asked for my assistance. I agreed. It wasn't until later when I realized what he was doing, at which point, I was stuck. He took full advantage of my naivety. He betrayed me, tricked me," she paused for a moment, biting her bottom lip in worry at Thomas' reaction. "I'm his Secret-Keeper," she stated plainly as she watched her friend draw back in shock. "Gods, if anyone finds out about our bond, he's threatened to destroy everything I have. I can't tell you everything of what's been going on, but I can say that he trusts me, and if my visit tonight worked, then hopefully the aggression against Britain will stop."
"What did you do? Give yourself to him? You'd give yourself to him, but not to me?" Thomas' face twisted in pain and anger.
"No!" Elizabett defended. "As I said, he trusts me, he confides in me and expects that the information he tells me will be secure. He doesn't think I'll tell anyone about our… situation, and I never would have, had you not found out. My bond is broken. My life is in danger, and the life that I've made at Hogwarts could be destroyed in the blink of an eye, if he so chooses." Tears were beginning to roll down her cheeks.
"I take it Albus doesn't know," Thomas began to calm, a private satisfaction rising at the thought that he was privy to something about Elizabett that her husband wasn't.
"No," Elizabett shook her head slowly, the weight of her emotions putting pressure on her temples.
"Does anyone else know?" he asked, certain that someone had to know. How could such a secret be kept from everyone?
She shook her head again. "Since my return to England, and especially since my joining Hogwarts, I've been working to slow Gellert's efforts, to pass along information of what he was doing without compromising my position. I've intentionally made contacts with specific people at the Ministry and used the information generated in my classes and lessons as a resource. It was working, but he stopped being so involved, and the Muggles began to take over. My goal tonight was to goad him into becoming involved again. If the European Magical Council can identify his participation with concrete information, maybe he can be stopped. But, I'm afraid that what he's begun is no longer in his control. There are others involved, others with high ambitions who have begun their own agendas. Plus, the Muggles are acting on their own accord."
Thomas turned to pace the ancient room, scrubbing his hands over his face as if to wash away the reality that was before him. Turning to face his friend, he stopped before her and reached forward. Slowly rubbing his hands up and down her forearms, he struggled to get his words out. "I'll say nothing," he finally uttered in a reassuring tone. "You swear that you're not on his side?"
"Never," Elizabett insisted. Gazing into Thomas' green eyes, she opened her mind to let him see the truth. Holding onto her upper arms, she could feel him recoil as she showed the interior of Gellert's home, the study where they held their conversations, the pleading expression that turned to a malicious, satisfied leer when her tricked her, and the whispered "Imperio" that took her innocence. Thomas would know the truth, even if it dishonored her. She owed him that.
~~~***~~~
The boundary gate of Hogwarts never looked so good as Thomas escorted Elizabett up the gravel path from Hogsmeade. Elizabett had Apparated them from the ruins which had been in the south of France to Dove, where the two independently Apparated to the outer limit of Hogsmeade. Elizabett was weak and tired, and Thomas wrapped his strong arm protectively around her slight body as they made their way up the hill. They said little on the walk. Their conversation at the ruins had been enough. He was convinced of her good intent and had seen the struggle that she had endured. She was his friend, and although she belonged to another man; she would always be his only true love. He would do everything in his power to protect her.
At the gate, Thomas turned Elizabett toward him and held her close, transferring some of his energy to her, just enough to get her home safely. Tipping her head up in gratitude, she smiled weakly, and he couldn't resist. His head bent to hers, and their lips met in a gentle and warm kiss. Lingering only for a moment, Thomas released her and took a step back.
"Will you be alright from here?" he asked, changing the subject.
Elizabett nodded feebly as she watched a familiar, faint, pink aura shimmer lightly around him.
"Fine then," Thomas began to back away slowly. "I'll leave you to it. Good night, Lizzie," he said tenderly.
"Good night, Thomas. Thank you," her words were barely a whisper.
Silently turning to follow their individual paths, Elizabett pushed the iron gate open and passed through. Raising her fingers to her lips as she walked, she felt them tingle, and the flutter in her heart was difficult to ignore.
~~~***~~~
"Goodness gracious. You're as pale as I am," the Fat Friar exclaimed as he met Elizabett in the main entranceway. "Are you ill? Shall I fetch Madam Prince?"
Elizabett forced a smile and pleasantly waved off her old House ghost. "I'm fine, just a bit tired, and this lighting is not the best," she made an excuse.
"If you say so," the Friar sounded unconvinced as he floated before her. "Have a good night's rest. I always find that a pint of mead helps me sleep," he jovially advised as he vanished through the far wall.
Elizabett's smile became genuine. Hmm, a glass of mead…or something of the sort might be a good idea, she thought as she strode down the corridor to her chambers. But, the smile faded quickly at the thought of the evening's events. No, she would need to keep her wits about her. Nothing of tonight should ever come forth.
~~~***~~~
"Crucio!" The hex was cast in anger. "You give me nothing of value! Months you have spent with her and that whelp, and you know nothing? I find that hard to believe."
"I've done as you asked," Thomas strained to speak from his kneeling position before Grindelwald. "But, the child shows no unusual signs of magical power. She's too young. Elizabett says that Catherine won't show any real kind of magic until she's at least two. She's not even a year yet." Grindelwald raised his wand to strike again, and Thomas' face hardened. "I've done some research myself, and she's right. It would be extraordinary if she showed anything at all at this age."
"Extraordinary is exactly it," the menace spat. "You've known this Castlewood woman since you were young. Didn't you notice anything different about her as a child?" Grindelwald knew what he was asking and knew what kind of answer to receive.
"Yes," Thomas choked. "But, I never gave it much thought. We all have different skills, different strengths."
"But, hers are passed through the generations," the blond leered. "The child will grow to be powerful…" His eyes shone with a manic glow.
"Or not," Thomas bravely interrupted at risk of retribution. "Elizabett's mother doesn't possess the same powers as her daughter. It may not follow the generations."
"I have seen with my own eyes that this child is special," he let the information carelessly slip. "Maybe your friend is not telling you everything, or maybe you're not telling me everything…Crucio!" he cried again sending Thomas writhing on the floor.
"I've seen nothing," the tortured man maintained. "She's just a child!"
Grindelwald ended the curse and leisurely strode in front of the pained man, raising his head with the tip of his wand. Gazing into his eyes, Gellert cast Legilimens. Elizabett immediately came into Thomas' mind, laughing and smiling on the terrace of her home. Catherine was on the stones nearby struggling to hoist herself into a standing position using Thomas' knee as support. The child stumbled backward and landed hard on her padded backside, chin quivering at first, and then determination setting on her face. She tried again, and this time succeeded in climbing onto Thomas' lap. Her grin was priceless. The next image was of Elizabett and Catherine at Castlewood Manor during the summer. Catherine was crawling around the sitting room floor while her mother and grandparents watched her antics. There was nothing special about the child's behaviour, and Grindelwald released Thomas with disgust.
"I know she's different. I've seen it," he muttered under his breath.
"Maybe what you saw was the combined power of the family," Thomas weakly croaked. "But, I know there is nothing special about her. She's too young."
"Maybe you're right," Grindelwald relented. "The mother trusts you, as does the father. Stay close to them," he instructed. "By the way, I saw no image of Dumbledore in your mind. Why?" his curiosity was peaked.
"I have no fondness for the man," Thomas honestly stated. "You asked me to keep an eye on the woman and child, not him."
Grindelwald nodded almost imperceptibly at the answer. He had suspected Thomas' affection for the woman, but Thomas had convinced him of his desire for vengeance. The woman had broken his heart by choosing another man.
Thomas was finally released and stumbled from the house and into the driving rain. He was far too weak to Apparate all the way back to England, so he went somewhere that he had only been once before, the curious comfort of the ruins in the south of France.
~~~***~~~
The rain that had swamped Scotland for most of October left the ground sodden and difficult to traverse. The confinement, in such foul weather, had left both staff and students in short-temper and seeking distraction in a variety of sources. Heads of House and Prefects organized activities, especially for the younger students, and many professors were often found gathered around a warm fire in the staff lounge. Games of Wizard chess, discussions of students, and complaints about the weather abound. Albus stayed close to home, puttering in the lab only a few nights a week and spending time each afternoon playing with Catherine, although, Elizabett had to question the type of play as it seemed more like tests than entertainment. But, Catherine laughed and seemed to enjoy the time with her father, so Elizabett let it be. Finally, the deluge began to subside.
On the morning of the Hogsmeade weekend right before Halloween, the sun dawned bright and beautiful promising a wonderful day. There had been plenty of volunteers for the trip as everyone was tired of being cooped up with the rain. As Elizabett prepared Catherine, Albus arranged the pram, and together they left through the side exit by the greenhouses and strolled around the castle to the front path. Albus proudly smiled as he helped levitate the pram over puddles and around uneven ground. This was something he had never in his life expected to do, and it filled him with a quiet reassurance that his life was content. Strolling into town, they passed students who delighted at seeing their professors in a more casual setting. Many of the girls gathered around the pram to "coo" at Catherine who sat alert, gleefully accepting the attention.
Continuing their path, they passed the Hogs Head Inn to find the barman sweeping the front stoop. Albus slowed, and his hesitation showed in his face. It was Elizabett who made the first move.
"Good morning, Aberforth," she greet cheerily.
The coarse man silently raised his head, his face unreadable, but he stopped the sweeping as they approached.
"Hello, Aberforth," Albus softly acknowledged as he stopped the pram in front of his brother.
Aberforth glanced back and forth between Elizabett and Albus, and then to Catherine. "She looks more like 'Lizabett every day, but she gots your hair," he grunted bending to come face to face with the attentive child. "Learn to think for yourself," he advised in a low tone. "I got work to do," he mumbled as he straightened and nodded sharply to Elizabett, quickly disappearing inside the pub.
"You never did tell me what happened between you two." Elizabett placed her hand gently on the center of Albus' back as he watched his brother retreat.
"It's a long, painful story, one that still hurts," he replied as her wrapped his arm around his wife in a small hug.
Albus and Elizabett had planned to join Bathilda, Horace, Professor Kettleburn and Professor Flaurance at the Simmering Cauldron for lunch, and as the bell chimed noon in the clock tower in the town square, they approached the establishment. The heavy, pine door automatically opened to let the new patrons in, and Elizabett settled Catherine on her hip as Albus escorted them to their friends at a table near the back. As Albus pulled out a chair out for his wife to sit, Horace rose to greet them, and with that a wail from Catherine silenced the crowded room.
"Blessed be, child!" he exclaimed, then addressed the parents. "Won't she ever get used to me?"
"Must be that blinding vest," Professor Kettleburn laughed as he reached to take Catherine onto his knee. She gurgled with delight and ran her chubby fingers through his cropped beard.
"She must have a thing for fur," Horace scoffed readjusting in his seat.
The professors and a few students within earshot of the conversation all chuckled at the offended Potions Master.
Talk covered a variety of subjects from Professor Kettleburn's preparation for autumn and winter courses to Horace's boasting of his new recruits. However, as the meal came to an end, the proprietor hushed the crowd and turned up the volume of the Wireless.
"And, there you have it," the announcer said. "As of ten o'clock last evening, two of Gellert Grindelwald's Higher Order have been captured by the European Magical Council in Berlin, Germany. These Wizards were posing as high-ranking officials in Hitler's army; one was second in command of the Luftwaffe, the air force that has been conducting the raids on England since the summer. Names of the Wizards have not been released, and the German military is investigating the disappearance of their two officials. An order has been issued to temporarily halt aggression against England. We can only hope that the British Ministry of Magic and the Muggle Ministry can come up with a solution to halt it for good."
One could hear a pin drop in the silence of the restaurant. All patrons gazed at each other with relieved shock and bewilderment. No more bombs? Then, as suddenly as the silence fell, a great cheer rose. Elizabett couldn't believe her ears. Had her last visit to Gellert sparked this? She suddenly gave it more thought. Would he really have sacrificed two of his own men? Especially in such high places? Her brow furrowed slightly. There was something not quite right.