Chapter 54: Pieces of the Puzzle
Across from the Magical Congress of the United States of America was a small no-maj coffee shop. It was here that Calamity met Rafael in no-maj disguise at 8:30 am for breakfast. Their small breakfast had just been served when Rafael looked seriously at Calamity.
"Fudge isn't going to like it," he said sternly.
Calamity blinked surprised, "What?"
"This whole running off with Dumbledore business," Rafael said. "I can keep him off your trail for about a week, but after that you'll certainly be considered an unfriendly immigrant."
"How did you-" Calamity began, but Rafael gave her a knowing look. She sipped her coffee feeling annoyed. "You got a visitor last night as well?"
"You're not the only one with connections. Young people think they do everything first," He glance around quickly before leaning closer. "Be sure to be ready for anything."
"Right."
"And keep a keen eye out. If you leave American soil we can't protect you."
"Okay."
"And they will do everything they can not to interfere if the Ministry finds you."
"I know."
"Course you know," Rafael said with a proud smile. "You & Jaden got into all kinds of trouble. I expect you to come back in one piece to relay the story."
Rafael nodded slightly to the corner of the coffee shop, where a small alley separated it from the office building next door.
"Of course," Calamity said, finished the last of her muffin before standing. "Thank you." She nodded at Rafael.
In the alleyway she found Albus Dumbledore waiting, looking down at a watch in his hand, its long chain was held into his other hand. He snapped it closed and looked at her as she approached, eyes dancing and a slight smile on his face.
"Perfect timing," he said pleasantly. In a fluid moment he tossed the watch to her, still holding the chain in his other hand. She caught it in her palm & was about to speak when she felt the uncomfortably familiar feeling of a pull behind her navel & the nauseating feeling of being pulled through the universe via Portkey.
When they arrived at their destination, Calamity found herself blinking up at Albus Dumbledore from the floor.
"International travel is always difficult, I'm afraid," he said offering his hand.
She took it and stood, brushing herself off. Dumbledore whistled to himself, a tune that Calamity didn't know, as he tucked the watch into his pocket. She looked back at the view. They were standing in a wooded area, but she could see a village nestled between two steep hills,its church and graveyard clearly visible. Across the valley on the opposite hillside, was a what was likely a handsome manor house at one time, its lawn a bit overgrown.
"Little Hangleton," Dumbledore explained. He was in muggle attire as well, his beard shrunk to a more modest length at the base of his neck. It was still unfashionably long, but Calamity was sure no one would really care.
"The Ministry still can't track illegal portkeys," she asked.
"Not the ones I make," Dumbledore assured her with a twinkle in his eye. Calamity felt sure it had a bit of mischievous pride in it. It looked too much like the twinkle she'd seen in the marauders' eyes so many times to be mistaken for anything else. Dumbledore motioned for her to follow him and she fell into step as they made their way into the village, he was walking towards the graveyard.
"You think a trophy is here," Calamity asked.
"In Little Hangleton? Given my research and your father's insight it seems a certain place for him to hide it, but our first question is where."
"You don't know?"
"My dear, so little is known about this period of Tom's life that it has taken much detective work to get even this far."
Dumbledore & Calamity pulled out their wands as they entered the graveyard silently. Her wand was warm to the touch, which only heightened her senses in the creepy atmosphere. A cottage, perhaps a groundskeeper's, was right next to the graveyard and behind that the less than cared for manor was visible. The ground was uneven as they walked across it slowly and the burials were organized in an almost chaotic way with some set higher or lower, others were wide open, while still others seemed narrowed and cramped together. Many of the graves had become covered by ivy and moss and a good number of the names written on them had become faded. Some grave stones had become tilted and sunken into the ground. It was eerily quiet, despite being afternoon.
"This way, I believe," Dumbledore hissed.
They moved passed the above ground mausoleums. Several bodies were marked by stone obelisks and angels. Before them were a number of stone sarcophaguses, several placed on top of each other. Of all the graves, the most opulent had a large stone statue of the Angel of Death, a raised scythe in its right hand and a skull face and skeletal hands.
Dumbledore knelt down to look at the large marble headstone with a crack through the names Thomas Riddle, Mary Riddle and Tom Riddle Snr.
"Is that from a spell," Calamity whispered. Her wand was still warm, though it hadn't increased in heat.
"It was," Dumbledore said. He glance behind him. "It came from there." He moved away from the stone.
Calamity remained, staring at the stone: Thomas Riddle. Tom Riddle. The name that kept reappearing. She leaned forward. There was blood on the stone.
Calamity wheeled around to Dumbledore.
"This is where it happened? This is where Harry came during the 3rd task?"
Dumbledore peaked from behind the grave stone he'd knelt by across the way. "It is. He would have been here firing & I believe Tom was where you were standing." Dumbledore stood again, he looked triumphantly at the Angel of Death. "We're right on track."
"You think that this place is special enough for the trophy to be hidden? In the graveyard," Calamity asked skeptically motioning to the overgrown mess.
"Certainly not," Dumbledore said. "But we're close to the case. It will have protection to make it harder to find, but I'm more and more sure that it is somewhere near here."
"How sure," Calamity asked raising an eyebrow.
"Now I am 75% sure," Dumbledore said. He looked at his watch. "Let's stay in the village tonight, shall we? I think we've spent enough time in this terrible place. Besides, I think you'd enjoy a nice cup of tea while an old man goes to take a nap and rest his tired bones. Maybe talk to the locals."
They arrived at The Hanged Man and talked to the owner, who was a bit confused as to why a woman and her grandfather would come to visit Little Hangleton, given that nothing interesting ever happened. Still, he rented them two of his four rooms. Dumbledore excused himself quickly, saying he was tired, but encouraging Calamity to have some tea or beer and relax after such an uncomfortable afternoon. He closed the door before she could say another word.
"He's a funny one, your grandfather," the bartender Dylan said. He looked just a decade or two older than Calamity.
"He is a bit odd, but I suppose older people always are,' Calamity said. She had opted for something a bit stronger after that graveyard trip and decided on whiskey. She took a small sip and felt the warmth fill her mouth.
"That's true," Dylan agreed, drying off a pint glass. "My old man was ancient and crazier than a bat, lots of the older people were. Gossips too. Always had some kind of story to tell."
"What could they say," Calamity asked with a laugh. "They said nothing happened here."
Dylan looked around the almost empty pub like a conspirator and leaned closer. "Well those rumors around the Riddle murder never really ended & the guy they think did it lived up on the hill by the graveyard. Could never find any evidence to hold him, though."
"He's still there?"
"Disappeared a while back. It was reported on the news. it was a pretty big deal," Dylan said. He moved to the next glass to dry, returning to his original volume. "I remember my mates & I use to break in to that old house sometimes, just on a dare. We'd run off before the old man came to chase us away. The place was always creepy, but you should have heard some of the older people when the report came out that he disappeared. They started bringing up all sorts of nonsense."
Calamity took another sip listening carefully as Dylan, emboldened by her attention to his story, waved to a man at a near by table.
"Oi! Bran! What was it your old man went on about the night Old man Bryce went missing?"
Bran leaned back, scrunching his face in thought. "Some nonsense. Changes in the village- about how beautiful the Riddle grounds use to be, but how much he hated the snobs in it. Something about an old shack across the way that no one ever went near. He was convinced that's where Bryce hid the murder weapon."
"I remember," Dylan said with a laugh. "Said he even tried to find it for the police when he was younger & the murder first happened, ey? Couldn't find it and said it swore up and down the whole village that it had been there just across the way from the Riddle Manor."
"Nothing but forest," chuckled Bran. Bran & Dylan laughed at the tricks that age can play on your memory.
Calamity took the last of her whiskey quickly and stood, stretching. "I think I'll walk around a bit while Gramps naps."
Dylan & Bran looked only a little disappointed to leave their audience, but they bucked up when Calamity asked for suggestions of what to see. She thanked them both for the drink & the laugh before heading out the door. She could see the the woods across the valley. She couldn't see a house of any kind, but she was starting to become more and more certain that tomorrow she'd find herself in those woods looking for a shack.
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