The Paths We Tread
Chapter 5:
First They Came
Nurmengard Prison
Plockenstein, Bohemian Forest
Austria
August 6, 1996
The warden met him on the shore.
Albus stood silently in the darkness, the chill sea spray soaking into the bottoms of his robes. The air here was cold, as it always was, and the island echoed with its eternal, eerie silence. The Alps were a beautiful place, one of nature's greatest wonders, but on this island hidden in the Bavarian Forest, no beauty remained – only a dark, dismal emptiness.
Much like the man who built it, he thought bitterly, as Tobias came closer, the warden's face lit up in a smile.
The solitary guard greeted Albus with a kiss on either cheek, then led him off towards the prison, chattering happily all the while. Albus nodded and exclaimed in all the right places, smiling gently, though his eyes were darting left and right across the landscape the whole time.
The trees along their path looked almost dead, he noticed worriedly, their branches barren and bark dry, even compared to his last visit. The forest was silent, no chattering of birds, no scurrying of rodents. The air felt heavy, dank, and the even the sun hid from the landscape, shrouded behind clouds. This accursed place had always been quiet, had always been subdued. That was why his old friend had chosen it for his prison, after all. But this… this obscene stillness…
Albus had a terrible feeling.
The tower loomed within their sight, and the jovial Tobias quietened as they passed through the structure's shadow. The guard stopped at the stone doorway and nodded to Albus bracingly. Dumbledore smiled gently back at the man, raising his hand and pressing his fingers to the rune carved in the center of the stone door.
The rune glowed a soft blue, and the door shimmered once, twice, before appearing solid once more. Albus took a deep breath –
And stepped through the door.
The slender man at the desk looked up, his grey eyes piercing.
"Hello, Gellert," Albus said softly.
Shell Cottage
Tinworth, Cornwall
August 8, 1996
"Get down!"
Harry grunted as he flung himself to the ground, the spell burning the hairs on the back of his head as he rolled. Someone had landed right beside him, and their elbow jabbed into his side as they ducked down further. Sand flew everywhere, particles stinging his eyes as he swore angrily, and above him, he heard a deep laugh. Then ropes wrapped around his body, and he knew he was done.
He felt Ginny scramble to her feet beside him and he pushed himself up on his elbows and knees, looking around himself warily. Right in front of him, Viktor Krum stood, arms folded and his wand hanging loosely at his side, a short serrated knife in one hand and an amused grin on his face.
The Bulgarian looked at Harry and flicked his wand, vanishing the ropes. He shook his head as the Gryffindor boy rose to his feet.
"Have heard you vere good," Krum said in his thickly accented English. "On the pitch, they did not exaggerate. This?" The stocky man shrugged elegantly, his grin widening, and Harry scowled.
Ginny scoffed, and Harry cut his eyes at her as the others in their group shifted nervously. Harry felt a twinge of regret at that. He knew his temper the year before had been – tiresome – and although his friends told him that it was all right, and that it wasn't even his fault, he still hated to see them waiting for him to explode.
He shook his head to clear it as the wooziness came back, and grinned wryly as he heard Ginny speaking. "You got lucky," the red-haired witch was saying with a cool expression. "Save me from a giant basilisk and the phantom of Voldemort with nothing but a sword and a hat, and then we'll talk."
Viktor barked out a laugh as Ron and Neville chuckled, and Hermione shot Ginny a look. Harry just shook his head, moving over to the table nearby and leaning on the edge. He had lost fair and square, he knew, but it certainly did smart his pride.
If he weren't still achy and slow from that procedure –
"No vone doubts Harry is brave and strong, Ginny," Viktor said calmly. "But he did make mistake." Krum turned his gaze to Harry, who stood silently in place, thinking. "Do you know vhat that vas?"
Harry shook his head at first, staring at the waves as he replayed their little battle in his mind. They'd been doing this daily for about a week now, two hours every day, and rotating pairs so they could get used to fighting with everybody in the group. He and Ginny made a good team – they anticipated each other and they had different styles, making it easier to keep their opponent off balance. They'd had Krum completely outgunned until –
"Don't tell him, Herm-own-ninny," he heard Viktor say, and he could practically feel Hermione glaring at the man. "He needs to figure it out himself."
They'd had Krum outgunned, Harry thought. Until Ginny's feet her been caught in the ropes Krum had sent her way, and Harry had –
He turned his head to look at the youngest Weasley, suddenly embarrassed. She had moved over to the table next to him and was sitting on the table top, swinging her legs lightly. The younger girl met his eyes and smiled slightly, and Harry grimaced.
"Sorry," he muttered, and Ginny just laughed and shrugged.
"We had you," Harry said louder, looking back to Krum. "Then you managed to hit Ginny with ropes and I abandoned the offensive to try to help her. I lost focus."
Krum nodded sharply, and Ginny chucked him on the arm as Hermione smiled at them both. "You are protector," Krum said in a low rumble. "Is in your nature. And is good." His eyes narrowed as he continued, "Your enemies, they know you vell, yes?"
Harry sighed as the point drove home. "Some of them, yeah," he agreed.
"Then they vill expect you to do this, yes?"
Harry nodded.
"Always, must be unexpected," Krum said sternly. "In true fight, the unpredictable survive. You train together so you vill know each other's strengths and veaknesses, but must trust each other to take care of selves. You must learn to trust your team." He looked at Harry seriously and said quietly, "If you abandon fight every time a friend is hurt, you vill not be fighting long."
Harry nodded again, more sharply this time, and Krum stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Is good," he said quietly. "You are learning much more quickly than I did in the Auror training."
"When do we start knives?" Ginny interrupted, eyeing the dagger in Krum's hand with an almost alarming hunger. Harry raised an eyebrow as Ron shot her a poisonous look, and Krum smiled at the girl.
"Ven you can go thirty minutes vithout getting hit by a single spell," he told her, chuckling, and Harry grinned as the redhead glared at Krum. "But I am tempted not to let you near a knife," the Bulgarian continued, "you are already very scary."
Ginny rolled her eyes as the others nodded emphatically, and Krum shot her another smile. Harry shook his head at the byplay, straightening from the table and looking around with a sigh.
"Time for the regular training now, yeah?" he said softly, and sure enough, Lupin appeared at the edge of the wards a moment later, followed by Tonks and Moody. Ginny squeezed Harry's shoulder as she went by, she and Luna crossing the dunes to join Lupin with waves of greeting. Hermione darted across the sand and hugged first Viktor, then Harry, then jogged across to Tonks as Neville and Ron went to join Moody.
Harry stayed where he was standing, then turned and looked at Viktor with a sigh. The moment the others had all disappeared, he turned on his heel and headed back up to the house, Viktor falling into step beside him.
"Any news?" he asked in a low voice, and the Bulgarian shook his head with a grimace.
"Heinrich is going to be marked tomorrow evening," Krum grunted, a sad look on his face. "He vas told vhen and vhere to meet the other recruits, but that is all. Is a tavern in Germany, he did not say vhere."
"And he's sure," Harry said sharply, "he's sure he can go through with this?"
"His family vill keep him from his sister if he turns his back on their cause," Krum spat. "He is happy to serve you in this… it makes vhat he vould have had to do anyway… tolerable."
"I hate this," Harry admitted bitterly, and Krum stopped walking, grabbing Harry's elbow and spinning the younger teen to face him.
"Is var," Krum said urgently. "Ve do terrible things in var, so others might not have to." He shot Harry a meaningful look, and Harry just shook his head and sighed.
"I still wish you would tell Dumbledore," Harry said quietly. "He could – "
Krum didn't even let him finish. "Don't know Dumbledore," the Bulgarian said with finality. " I know you."
And without another word, he turned and headed for the edge of the wards.
Harry stood rooted to the spot for a moment, then shook his head and went back up to the cottage.
"Fuck, I don't know," Bill muttered in an urgent voice, and Harry hurriedly stepped back on the porch. The teen hovered on the corner, hidden behind the giant potted plant, and strained his ears as the voices from inside lowered.
"It's not like I thought Dumbledore would just stand still and wait patiently for me to make demands," Bill continued, "but I didn't think I wouldn't even be able to talk to him for an entire week. Did you hear what Snape said about the – ?"
"We don't know what's going to happen," Charlie replied reassuringly, and Harry heard a sudden repeat of footfalls, as though Bill had started to pace. "And Harry is safe here, you know that. His phase one of battle training not-withstanding… Besides, they can't really think they can get to him that way."
A rustling sound echoed through the room, and Bill let out a tired sigh. "No, but it's just another distraction and…"
"Are you gonna tell him?" Charlie asked quietly, and there was a long pause.
Harry narrowed his eyes, and…
"Before the Order meeting tonight, yeah," Bill replied. "I don't want him to hear it from someone other than me."
You must learn to trust your team, Krum's voice echoed in Harry's mind, and he felt a surge of shame. Hadn't Bill been honest with him so far?
"Well, you know Harry," Charlie chuckled lightly, "he will, if you don't tell him soon."
Bill grunted, and the two fell silent. Harry forced himself to stay perfectly still, resolved to wait a few minutes before going inside. He didn't want to be caught eavesdropping, after all. That never ended well.
"Is he talking?" Charlie asked suddenly, and Harry's head snapped around. His arm caught on a branch as he turned and –
Bill was leaning on the door frame, his arm stretched across the open door, blocking the entrance, looking at Harry calmly. A trace of amusement warring with annoyance was on his face. "No," he called to Charlie without turning, "Harry isn't talking, he's eavesdropping."
Harry flushed red, then moved slowly up the steps and stopped before Bill. The eldest Weasley son simply quirked an eyebrow at Harry. After a moment of silence, the older man shook his head, grinned, and lifted thearm that had been blocking the doorway. Harry scowled, but as Bill didn't move, he ducked under Bill's arm to enter the cottage, immediately veering right and heading for the squashy armchair that had become his favorite.
Charlie was standing near the window on the opposite side of the room, gazing out at the rocks on the shore, but he turned and scowled when he heard Harry sit down. "That used to be my chair," the dragonkeeper complained, stomping over to the couch and throwing himself down with a huff.
"Stuff it, Chuckles," Bill replied tiredly, sitting in another armchair and looking at Harry contemplatively.
Harry shifted in the chair nervously, then turned to look at Charlie, ignoring his de facto guardian for the moment. The stocky second Weasley son was still rather pale – everywhere that wasn't burned, rather – but he seemed to be in good spirits. The man had woken after less than a day in the hospital wing, ready and raring to get out of bed, but his memory of everything after their trip to Germany was just gone.
Charlie didn't seem to be all that affected by his memory loss. His outrageous nature was the same as ever – when he'd first come to Shell Cottage after being released just the day before, he'd offered to show Harry his newest burns, then proceeded to strip off his shoes and shirt right in the kitchen. As soon as he had started in on his belt, a horrified Bill had threatened to kick him out of the house, and Charlie had just laughed.
"Harry doesn't swing that way, I don't think," Charlie had said matter-of-factly to his brother. He winked at Harry, who was turning beet-red, then continued. "Anyways, he's practically family now, and I have a strict policy about sleeping with family."
Bill hadn't been amused. "The fact that you feel the need to have a policy about that is not reassuring," the cursebreaker had griped, and Harry had burst out laughing as Charlie pouted and stomped out of the house, muttering to himself about crashing at Tonks' flat.
The metamorphmagus had shown up two hours later, Luna and Hermione in tow, and told a laughing Bill that she had kicked Charlie out of her flat for trying to show off his new burns. He was, she had told them, staying at Kingsley's place.
The Auror had just woken up that morning, and was due to be released any day. Harry's mood darkened again as he pictured the burly Auror in the hospital bed, his skull still knitting together, his normally sharp eyes dulled with pain.
Harry shook his head as Charlie shot him a concerned look, then cleared his throat as he forced himself to focus.
"So," Harry said calmly, "what were you going to tell me about?"
Charlie huffed out a laugh and Bill let out another tired sigh.
"We have," the cursebreaker said slowly, "received information that suggests that the Ministry is planning to declare all Muggleborns or Muggle-raised as wards of the state."
Harry froze, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. "What?" he croaked, and Charlie scooted over on the couch, reaching out and squeezing Harry's shoulder reassuringly.
"It's because of all the attacks last week," Bill explained. "Quite a few Muggleborns lost their entire families, and the ones that didn't, well – "
"Fudge is making the argument that the Muggles can't protect their magical children, so they shouldn't have them," Charlie scowled, and Harry felt another jolt of fear.
"Hermione? The Creevy brothers?" he asked urgently.
Me? He thought frantically, but he didn't say it out loud.
"Bones was able to fast-track paperwork to get Tonks appointed Hermione's temporary legal guardian," Bill assured him. "We were already working on it anyway – Muggles who don't even remember they have a daughter can't really be legally responsible for her. Awful as it sounds," he said with a grimace. "And Amelia is taking in both of the Creevys herself."
"I'm a bit worried about Luna," Charlie pointed out. "If the Ministry decides to declare Xeno unfit – "
"Yes, well, he is," Bill shot back.
"Which is why she's with Hermione and Dora, and not him or alone somewhere," Charlie pointed out reasonably. "But she's the easiest one for them to get to, now."
Bill grimaced again, nodding thoughtfully. "We should talk to Dora tonight at the meeting," he said quietly.
"Um," Harry said quietly, and both men turned to look at him, "aren't I in…?"
Bill shook his head immediately. "They aren't getting you, Harry," he said firmly, his mouth set in a hard line.
"But you haven't been able to talk to Dumbledore yet – "
The cursebreaker smiled gently. "Trust me," he murmured, and Harry swallowed back his protests.
Pushing back the panic that was threatening to rise, Harry nodded and got to his feet, moving swiftly out of the room.
Before he had even hit the top of the stairs, he was messaging Hermione.
Tonks' Flat
London, England
Hermione's communication charm had gone off while she had been in the middle of learning new disguise charms from Tonks, and without even bothering to make excuses, she hastened off to her room to hear Harry's message. Immediately, a grim frown on her face, she had summoned a ream of parchment and started scribbling down names.
Either Bill wasn't worried about all of the Muggleborns students, or he wasn't telling Harry everything, but either way, Hermione was determined they would protect everyone they could.
The last year had taught her the Ministry was not a benevolent organization, and she would be damned if any of their classmates would be left to its mercy.
She slipped out of her room after a couple hours and sent Zeppelin, Tonks' eagle owl, off to Dean Thomas with a frown. Four other missives waited on her desk in her room, and she stood in the window, looking down over London.
It had been quiet over the last week – eerily so, if she were being honest. After the non-stop horror of the attacks on Harry's birthday, there had been almost no activity from Voldemort or the Death Eaters – not even any raids from Greyback. Snape had reported that Voldemort had been closed up in his study, and that only Bellatrix Lestrange had been allowed entrance. They all hoped it meant he was hurt, that the obscene sorcery he had performed in Kent had drained him… but somehow, Hermione doubted it.
She was far more certain that he was planning something even more dreadful.
Hermione cringed as her fingertips began to tingle then go numb, and let out a sigh. Since she had woken in the hospital wing several days before, she felt both better and worse than she had in weeks. She wasn't sure what Snape had done, but somehow, he had changed the nature of the curse's impact on her. She wasn't getting as tired, as utterly drained as she was before. At least, not as quickly.
But the pain was worse. And she felt… strange, in a way she couldn't explain.
The Gryffindor witch shook her head ruefully and turned away.
She didn't want to look at the London skyline any longer, she admitted to herself. It didn't look right anymore.
London Bridge was gone, her parents were lost to her forever, and nothing was sacred anymore.
She shut herself in her room, empty with Luna off at training. After a moment's pause, she pulled out another giant, musty tome, brushing her fingers across the front. The words on the cover seemed to glow with a sinister light…
Potions Moste Evil
Knockturn Alley
London, England
Ron followed Moody down the winding alley with a blank expression. The normally gloomy alley was practically empty, the usual thrum of noise hushed, the usually fearless criminals, hags, and vampires skulking in the shadows.
He didn't like the feeling of being somewhere even the monsters were afraid to be.
He followed his trainer faithfully, ducking as a sword was flung from a tavern door across the way, stepping calmly over the snake someone had let loose to slither across the alley floor. Moody disappeared into a tiny, dim-looking shop, and Ron slipped through the doors behind him.
They had deposited Neville with Lupin and the girls an hour before, and Moody had taken Ron to his house and shown him a safe room, then brought him straight here. Ron wasn't sure what the man was on about, but Moody hadn't volunteered any information, and with the normally gruff man's pisser of a mood, Ron hadn't dared to ask a question.
So he was there, in Knockturn Alley, in some dismal shop in the very back reaches, waiting to be poisoned or stabbed.
A shopkeeper appeared from the back, a short and scrawny fellow with bug-eyed glasses and straw like hair, his filthy apron coming down almost to his toes. He looked strangely familiar, but Ron couldn't place it. "Al," the man said in a deep voice that didn't match his appearance, and Ron stared.
"Vin," the ex-Auror growled back. He jerked his head at Ron, still standing in the doorway, and the shopkeeper turned his big eyes to peer at Ron. "He needs a full outfitting. Make sure it's top grade."
Vin the shopkeeper stopped staring creepily at Ron to turn and look at Moody incredulously. "Outfitting a non-Auror is illegal," the shopkeeper said softly, and Moody snorted.
"I know the law, Vin, I helped write it," he replied. The man's one real eye narrowed. "Do it."
Vin stared at Moody a moment longer, then nodded sharply. Moody let out another snort, then stomped over to sit in the spindly chair by the window, reaching over and picking up a dust-coated magazine. He shook the booklet out, coughing as clouds flew out of the pages, then settled back in the chair as Ron stared at the man, baffled.
The sudden feeling of being watched had Ron jumping, and he spun to find Vin standing so close, their noses were almost touching. "Come with me," the strange man whispered, and Ron followed the shopkeeper into the back room.
If I die back here, Moody, he thought angrily, I'm sicking Gin and Mione on you.
The door slammed shut behind him in another cloud of dust, and slowly, loud overhead lights clicked on, going on, and on, and on down a dark tunnel.
Vin the shopkeeper started to set off down the tunnel, and Ron sighed and followed.
Grimmauld Place
London, England
Bill shifted in the high-backed chair with a tired sigh.
It was late, far later than they had originally planned to meet. To say it was still August 8th would be a mere technicality – there were only a handful of moments left until midnight.
The inner circle of the Order had been gathered for nearly two hours at this point, having arrived an hour later than the originally agreed time after receiving a missive from Dumbledore. Even that delay had rankled – he had things to do, places to be, and a still-healing teenager that needed to sleep.
Not to mention, Louis's letter was burning a hole in his pocket.
Even McGonagall had managed to be on time, he thought uncharitably, and she had spent the day in Ghana on the trail of a powerful healer.
The cursebreaker shook his head to clear it as he caught sight of Fleur shooting him worried looks. There was no need to get bitter. Better to save his frustration for worthy causes.
Across the table from him, Harry was fidgeting restlessly, rubbing the back of his neck as he always seemed to do when tired or stressed. Bill reached into his pocket and withdrew a runic booklet, passing the bound journal to Harry with a smile. The teen shot him a grateful look and immediately began thumbing through the book, relieved to have something to distract him.
A shadow in the doorway caught his eye, and Bill glanced up to see Kingsley Shacklebolt leaning heavily against the doorframe. Before anyone else could react, Hermione had let out a squeak and jumped to her feet, quickly rounding the table to reach Shacklebolt's side. She calmly pulled the man's arm around her shoulders, helping to prop him up, and steered him towards a chair near her. The burly Auror looked a bit discomfited, Bill noticed, but made no move to stop the girl. Hermione, meanwhile, looked as happy as could be, speaking to the Auror in hushed tones that didn't carry to Bill.
His mother looked thunderous, Bill mused. He could practically hear the rant building in her mind.
Shack had reached the end of the table with his escort, and Hermione murmured an apology to Tonks as she jostled her chair passing by.
"That's Mumsy to you, little lass," Tonks chuckled with a smirk as Hermione dropped in the chair beside her, and Hermione immediately stiffened. The room fell silent as Hermione looked down, biting her lip, and Tonks' face fell as she realized her error. The metamorph reached out, squeezing Hermione's hand gently, and Hermione let out a heavy sigh and shook her head, smiling wanly at Tonks.
As Bill watched, the girl looked down the table, met Snape's eyes, and looked quickly away with a slight flush.
A warning bell sounded in Bill's mind, and he looked surreptitiously between the pair. Nearby, he noticed Lupin looking at Snape with narrowed eyes.
Something about their behavior didn't set right with him, and Bill resolved to keep an eye on things.
What are you going to do? A quiet voice asked mockingly in the back of his mind. Will you spy on the master spy? Just like you'll outperform the leader of the three-ring circus?
Yes, he thought back angrily at his own subconscious, then shook his head again. Arguing with himself was a slippery slope to go down.
He looked around a moment as conversation flared back up, then let out another sigh. Leaning forward, he cleared his throat, waiting for Harry to look up.
"If he hasn't arrived in ten minutes," he said quietly, "take the others back to the cottage so you can –"
The doors banged open behind Harry, and Albus Dumbledore swept into the room. Bill sat up straight and looked calmly at the leader of the Order, and Dumbledore smiled benignly at them all.
"My apologies," the Headmaster said softly. "Shall we begin?"
The conversation had dragged on for well over an hour, and Harry's eyes were drooping as it died down around him. Snape was still ranting, his eyes wide and his mouth twisted in a snarl, and Harry bit back a scoff as the man's voice raised even further.
Or, rather, he thought he had managed to bite back a scoff. Judging from the amused looks that Bill, Charlie, and Lupin shot him, he didn't quite succeed.
Harry tapped his fingers on the table, sighing to himself as Tonks shot back, "Harry and Hermione contacted all the Muggleborn and –raised in the DA for a reason. It would be a disaster if they fell into the Death Eaters' or Ministry's hands. They simply know too much now."
"And whose fault is that?" Snape snarled back, and Harry, out of patience, spun in his chair.
"Voldemort's," he said evenly, ignoring Amelia Bones' and Emmeline Vance's twin flinches. "The tosser just refuses to die."
Bill and Mr. Weasley both chuckled lightly, and Harry saw Mr. Weasley look at Bill sadly.
Bill ignored him.
"Yes, well," Amelia Bones put in, "we seem to have found placements for all of them so far. Dean Thomas was the only one we couldn't contact – apparently he and his mum are visiting relatives in America. But otherwise, all are settled."
"Very good," Dumbledore nodded, and Harry felt a flash of annoyance. I'm not settled, he thought with a scowl. "Now, to business that has been a bit delayed by recent events – the Chamber. Harry, Kingsley, now that you are both up and about, I'd like to go ahead with our plan to scout out the space. Tomorrow, perhaps?" The Headmaster paused, smiling ruefully as he pulled his pocket watch from his robes. "Or rather, today."
"Not if you'd like to meet before noon," Shacklebolt said, his normally deep voice cracking slightly. "I am under strict orders to sleep. And I don't want to nearly die again."
Everyone in the room who had ever been under the care of Poppy Pomfrey chuckled, and the mediwitch in question blushed slightly, shaking her head with a fond smile. Dumbledore smiled at the woman and nodded.
"One pm sounds like a marvelous plan," he said. "Now, I believe that is everything we – "
"Not quite."
Every head in the room turned as Bill spoke quietly, and Harry tensed in his chair. He knew what Bill was going to bring up, hell, he wanted Bill to bring it up, and yet –
His nerves rose and he began worrying the cover of the runes booklet in his hands, staring steadily at the table.
Dumbledore, for his part, seemed to still be trying to pretend. The Headmaster turned towards Bill with a gentle smile, raising one eyebrow. "You have another matter, young William?"
Bill didn't blink. He met the Headmaster's gaze unflinchingly, and said quietly, "Harry."
Dumbledore's face went blank, and the pit in Harry's stomach grew as the whole room went eerily silent.
"Yes," the Headmaster responded after a moment, "I have told you we will talk about plans for Harry, but I feel it would be best done in private."
Harry looked over to see Bill's face twisted in a slight smile. "I've been trying to get a private meeting with you for a week, Headmaster," the cursebreaker said softly, and Snape glowered at him as Dumbledore frowned. Harry turned his gaze back to the table, his discomfort building. Really, Bill, its okay, he wanted to say. Don't worry about it.
A glance at the eldest Weasley son had him biting his tongue. He was pretty sure the other man wasn't going to back down any longer.
And Dumbledore seemed to have come to the same conclusion, judging by the harness of the older wizard's eyes. "I've been rather busy," he said simply, his tone still soft and friendly.
Bill smiled as the room turned to stare at him, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath. "I can't imagine," he said in a pleasant voice. "And yet, as we've just discussed at some length, the Ministry is currently trying to take custody of many children, and Harry may be one of those at risk. His welfare does take precedence over many other issues."
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Mr. Weasley stiffen, and he glanced at the older man curiously. Mr. Weasley just shot him a forced smile, then turned his head to look back at his eldest son. Harry turned back to the Headmaster, who had opened his mouth to speak –
"I am more than happy to speak with you in private, Headmaster," Bill cut Dumbledore off smoothly, "but we must speak immediately."
"Arthur, control your brat," Snape snarled, and Harry stared at the man. Arthur shot Snape a rueful smile, shaking his head.
"Bill controls himself," Mr. Weasley said softly, and Dumbledore glanced down the table at the Headmaster as everyone seemed to draw in another sharp breath.
"Severus," he said simply, peering at the man over his half-moon spectacles, and the Potions Master threw himself back in his seat with a huff. Dumbledore turned to look at Harry, his gaze piercing, then nodded sharply at Bill.
"Shall we, then?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully, looking for all the world as though it had been his idea for the two to step out. He rose to his feet and gestured to the door, and Bill smiled at the man and preceded him into the hall.
Harry sat perfectly still in his chair, still fiddling with the runes book, and wished the floor would open up and swallow him.
"Blimey," he heard Ron mutter as he closed his eyes against the sudden headache. "Bill is turning into a right – "
He heard Molly Weasley shush her youngest son, and lowered his forehead to the table, his eyes still squeezed shut.
The study door clicked shut behind Bill, and he immediately crossed the room to sit in one of the armchairs by the fire. Dumbledore hesitated by the doorway, watching his ex-student curiously. Bill had the distinct impression that he was confusing the man – and to confuse the Headmaster was just not a common occurrence.
But there was more to be gained in throwing the powerful man off-balance than in totally alarming him, so Bill forced himself to stay calm. He leaned back in the armchair, looking politely at the Headmaster, and waited patiently for the older man to speak.
Dumbledore just looked at him solemnly, peering over the edge of his half-moon glasses. "I see," he finally said softly. "Is this to be my reckoning, then? Are you going to demand to know why I didn't remove Harry sooner?"
"No," Bill said quietly. "I don't really care about your reasons. You were wrong."
A heavy silence fell over the room, the fire cracking and hissing behind them. Bill sat unmoving as the Headmaster continued to gaze at him, the man's eyes still dark and angry.
Finally, Dumbledore let out a tired sigh, crossing the room to sit across from Bill. He lowered himself into the chair slowly, wincing slightly as his knees audibly creaked.
"I regret what Harry suffered," Dumbledore admitted softly. "Maybe there was another way, something else I should have done, but at the time?" The man shrugged elegantly, gazing sightlessly at something beyond Bill's shoulder. "It was such a dark and confusing time, and no one knew who to trust. After Sirius Black turned?" Here, Dumbledore winced. "Or so we thought." He turned to face Bill fully for the first time. "I truly thought it was the safest option for him."
Bill just looked back at the older man, his gaze steady and his voice even. "And then you found out he was being mistreated there, and you did nothing."
"I did not know he was being physically harmed, truly," Dumbledore protested quickly. "Had I known – "
"You could have found out," Bill cut the Headmaster off. "When you saw how tiny and skinny he was, you could have ordered Pomfrey to do a full checkup. You could have gone to Privet Drive to investigate. You could have checked on him, ever. You chose not to do so."
The Headmaster did not reply.
"But I'm not here to dredge up the past," Bill said quietly. "You failed him. No matter your intentions, it is the truth." He leaned forward, clasping his hands together between his knees. "I'd like to prevent that from happening again. I did what you wouldn't do, Headmaster. I asked Harry what he wanted." The Headmaster flinched, and Bill continued quietly, "And so I am asking you what I need to do for you to back me in a bid for Harry's custody."
Silence reigned in the room again, and Bill carefully held his tongue.
"I've never doubted you were a good man, William," the Headmaster murmured. "You have much of your father in you. And yet…" Dumbledore looked at Bill piercingly, the twinkle still absent from his eyes. "You were content to be on the sidelines even three months ago. You didn't know Harry at all before this summer, nor did you try to." Bill nodded his agreement – there was no denying fact.
"What changed?" Dumbledore demanded. "You came back from Italy and immediately threw yourself into the center of the war effort, inserted yourself in an integral position in Harry's life." The Headmaster's eyes turned beseeching, true worry emanating from the man. "I need to know why, Bill."
Bill stared at the Headmaster, surprise flashing across his features. He was fairly certain the man had never deigned to call him Bill. He sat stunned for several moments, one hand curling around the letter in his pocket.
"Why I care?" Bill questioned. "I came back, and I saw him, Headmaster. I saw how tired he is, how alone. I saw how everyone seems to expect him to solve every problem by himself. I saw that he's too skinny, that he's too quiet one minute and too angry the next. I saw the way he holds himself back and apart." Bill shook his head. "I saw a kid who needed someone. Why didn't you?"
It was Dumbledore's turn to fall silent in shock, the Headmaster's hand clenching at his side. Dumbledore just shook his head, nonplussed, and Bill continued.
"As for the war," he cleared his throat and sat back in his seat again, "Harry is at the center of it, there's no undoing that now. Even if we hold him back from the fighting, Voldemort will still drag him into the middle of things. And where he goes, my youngest brother and sister do, too. The only way to protect them is to end this. I might as well do what I can."
Dumbledore chuckled tiredly. "There's no faulting your logic," the elderly man agreed. "And yet, as I hear it, you cancelled the Italy project after just three weeks, and walked out on your contract." The man's gaze sharpened once more and he fixed Bill with a steely glare. "You've told no one of the project, and half of your team is missing. What did you find down there?"
Bill felt a cold dread seeping into his bones. He shook his head, smiling ruefully as he tried to keep his expression neutral. "You know I can't tell you that," he replied.
"The Goblins should be out for blood," Dumbledore continued as if Bill hadn't spoken at all. "They never forgive a breech of contract, and yet, all of my contacts tell me they speak quite highly of you. Those from your team who I could even find won't breathe a word. And yet, there are artifacts which can change and shape a person, can impact and control behavior. If that is what you found down there – if that is what sent you racing back to England to be at Harry's side – "
Bill shook his head again. Now you want to protect him? He thought snidely, but he let out a sigh instead. "I am myself, fully," he said, forcing himself to remain calm. Hell, hadn't he known Dumbledore wouldn't agree easily? Why was he getting upset by it? "I've told you already why I want to help the kid, and you know I'm not lying. And if we want to keep him out of Ministry hands – or worse – we are running out of time," he said urgently.
But Dumbledore just shook his head, the man's eyes still shadowed. "I cannot in good conscience allow this," he said simply. "Not unless you can tell me what happened in Italy."
Bill's temper snapped, and he tensed as his face twisted in annoyance. "I have contacts all over the world," he shot back, his voice rising. "Consequence of working a job for the last nine years where I travel everywhere. If I wanted to, I could make us disappear before you could even take off your damned hat. No matter what you allow."
"Taking a child without legal right is called kidnapping, William," Dumbledore replied softly. The Headmaster let out a sorrowful sigh and shook his head, raising his wand. "No, I've seen enough. I saw it at Privet Drive with your vengeance ritual – "
I didn't finish that, Bill thought angrily.
Not for lack of trying, his conscience mused, and he scowled.
"And I see it now. Your temper is too volatile. You will not be caring for Harry." The Headmaster rose to his feet, pointing his wand at the doors and sealing them in. "He shall be removed immediately, and I'm sorry, William, but I am going to have to Obliviate this summer from your mind. You know too much."
Bill watched silently as the orange spell seeped into the door, the walls, and turned to see the Headmaster watching him sadly. "I'm sorry," Dumbledore said quietly, "I truly am."
The Headmaster raised his wand, and Bill snorted, spinning on his heel. He strode to the doors, reaching into his left pocket, and heard Dumbledore call after him, "Bill, you can't break – "
He pulled a small metal disk out of his pocket, slapping it onto the wall next to the door, and pressed on the center. The five sharp points of the star curled into the wood and the center bubbled forward, and the orange spell splintered. As Dumbledore stared in shock, the ward broke down. In moments, it was nothing more than traces, tendrils like a ripped spider web, and Bill batted at the remnants over the door, then slammed it open and stalked from the room.
Yeah, my temper is fairly volatile right now, he agreed ruefully, and he took three deep breaths, willing himself to calm. When he hit the meeting room, his stride was purposeful, but no longer angry, and he stopped just inside the doorway, looking at Harry, who had spun to face him with worry in his eyes.
He felt Dumbledore come up behind him, felt the anger emanating off the wizard – saw Moody stand at the same time as Snape and McGonagall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape pull his wand, and Charlie, Fred, George, and all the kids but Harry sprang to their feet.
He ignored them all, eyes still on Harry. Quietly, he asked, "Do you still wish me to be your guardian?"
The room went silent once again. All eyes swung towards Harry, and the boy silently nodded.
"Alright," Bill replied. "Get some rest. I'll be home soon." As Harry looked at him with confusion, Bill raised his wand, pointing it at the runes book still in Harry's hands. "Portus," he whispered, and the book glowed blue for a moment, then Harry and the book vanished in a swirl of color.
He heard Dumbledore hiss behind him, but he turned to look at Ron and Ginny, still ignoring the man. "Go to the cottage, would you?" He said quietly. "Keep him company."
His youngest siblings nodded as one, heading immediately for the Floo without even bothering to so much as glance at their parents for permission. Fred hesitated a moment before jumping up and following them, and Bill could feel his mother glaring heatedly at him. As he waited, Hermione, Neville and Luna stood as well, following Fred from the room.
George stayed behind, gazing at Bill in undisguised confusion, and their father sat beside him, unmoving.
Still, Dumbledore stood just behind him, his gaze practically burning a hole in the back of Bill's head. Bill shook his head with another tired sigh. "Charlie?" He said quietly. "Like we talked about."
Charlie nodded and got to his feet, crossing around the table to stand beside Bill. The cursebreaker moved further into the room, turning to face Dumbledore. He took in the Headmaster's thunderous expression calmly, meeting the man's furious gaze.
"I asked you what it would take," Bill said quietly, "I wanted to do this civilly. I would have done it willingly, gladly, with no need for any coercion or reward."
He shook his head, his mouth twisting in a grimace as the room stared at him, as Dumbledore's gaze slowly shifted from angry to worried. "But as you refuse to trust me, which is just rich, considering…"
And Bill lowered to his knees, his wand pointed straight ahead. Charlie moved to kneel beside him, and Bill just looked calmly at the Headmaster.
"Bill," the man said shakily, realization suddenly dawning in his eyes, "this – "
"Kneel, Headmaster," Bill cut him off roughly. "I did not need to be forced to care, but if this is what it takes for you to give Harry a chance, then so be it."
Dumbledore stared at him a moment longer, then nodded sharply. He got down on the floor laboriously, flinching as his knees creaked again when they touched the floor, then slowly touched the tip of his wand to Bill's.
Charlie wasted no time. "Will you, William Arthur Weasley, swear to always care for Harry as if he were your own child?"
"I will," Bill replied easily, and a jet of light shot from his wand, wrapping around his and the Headmaster's hands in a figure eight.
"Will you swear to safeguard Harry's wishes and best interests, to the best of your ability, above all other goals?"
"I will."
Charlie cleared his throat, his voice cracking slightly. "Will you swear to protect Harry's life and welfare at any cost?"
Bill heard his mother and several others draw in a sharp breath, and Dumbledore's gaze sharpened. "I will," Bill said evenly, and the third ribbon of light wrapped around their bound hands.
The ribbon glowed brightly, shimmering and heating around their hands before dissipating, and Bill got to his feet, holding out a hand to help the Headmaster up. Dumbledore was still staring at him, his gaze contemplative.
"You understand that if Harry dies – "
Bill could feel his mother stiffen across the room. He smiled gently. "I understand many things, Headmaster."
"I still need to know – "
"Dust," Bill cut him off again. "We found a lot of dust, Headmaster, nothing more."
Dumbledore's eyes seemed to shutter, and the Headmaster nodded, sweeping from the room.
Bill stood perfectly still for a moment, letting the shocked murmurs of the others wash over him. The faint buzzing noise in his mind was bothersome, as the Unbreakable Vow tried to Burrow into his subconscious, sinking down into his mind and intending to reshape Bill's very being towards its purpose. He raised his Occlumency shields and wrapped a hand around his dragon tooth necklace, his eyes closing as he concentrated on his breathing.
He intended to keep his word, but he didn't intend to be a mindless slave. He just hoped Occlumency would help him to be able to retain his sense of self.
Oh well, he thought tiredly, if it doesn't, it's not like I was going to turn Harry out, anyway.
Abruptly too exhausted to function, he turned on his heel and walked out of Grimmauld, Charlie and George following close behind him. He stopped as soon as he crossed the wards and spun quickly, apparating to Shell Cottage.
Charlie and George tried to hover, but he shook them off, and stood waiting until they disappeared towards the house. He'd be damned, after all, if he would let the kids see him so damn weak. Especially the one for whom he was now responsible.
He lowered himself shakily onto the nearest sand dune, and stretched his legs out in front of him as he tried to slow his racing heart. Scrubbing a hand over his face, Bill leaned forward, listening quietly to the waves, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter from Louis.
We need to meet. I've got something.
Thomas Household
London, England
August 9, 1996
"Blimey," Dean muttered as he hefted the third overflowing trunk over the doorframe. "Did you have to buy so many clothes?"
His mother laughed merrily, kissing him on the cheek as she slipped by him into the kitchen, immediately starting a pot of tea. It was three am, and they had just gotten off a plane, but that didn't seem to bother her one bit. Dean shook his head, smiling fondly as he shut the front door behind them.
"American fashion is just so fascinating," Kendra Thomas replied with a smile. "Besides, didn't I buy you enough souvenirs? Go put them away."
Dean laughed ruefully, shaking his head with a grin once more, and lifted his one – one – trunk and headed for the stairs. He trudged up through the house, flipping light switches as he went, and pushed his door open with a cream of the hinges.
Odd. His window was open further than he'd left it.
He crossed the room to peer out the window, his eyes narrowed as he looked out into the night. Heart starting to pound, he pulled out his wand –
And jumped as an owl hooted from the tree outside his window. He laughed shakily, lowering his wand, and looked at his windowsill and the dish where he kept the owl treats. It was empty, the dish shoved from its normal position, and he shook his head again, shivering as a gust of cold wind came in through the sill. Moving forward, he set his wand down on his desk and pushed the window shut, and turned and left the room again to help his mother settle in.
He never saw the still-sealed letter, trapped against the wall behind his desk.
Chamber of Secrets
Hogwarts
"Wands out," Moody snarled, and the grizzly old Auror stomped forward, his peg-leg thumping on the cavern floor. Harry stood at the mouth of the filthy pipe – which Dumbledore had, with a wave of his wand, turned into a moving spiral staircase, much like the gargoyle. Bill's lips quirked as he watched the teen glare silently. No doubt he wished he had thought of that, all those years before.
At that thought, a chuckle did escape from under his breath, and Lupin shot him a questioning look as he stepped even further in front of the teen. The lycanthrope threw his arm out in front of Harry, halting his progress.
Again, Bill could almost hear Harry's thoughts; honestly, his mental estimation of Harry scoffed, as if I've never dealt with an angry snake before.
It was somewhat interesting to be down in the Chamber, with the threat of imminent death not looming overhead. Bill had spotted wall sconces in the din and lit each of them aflame, so the Chamber was bathed in firelight. Up ahead was the monkey-like statue of Slytherin, mouth firmly shut as if a hungry basilisk had never slithered out. Beyond the statue was the huge, open expanse
where he imagined Ginny had once lay, the life leeching out of her.
Bill let out a shaky breath.
Ahead, Kingsley lit off a flare from his wand, eyes narrowing as he watched its progress. "This goes on for miles, looks like," he said. "Probably beneath the majority of the castle."
Bill shot him a sharp look. "Think it has an outside entrance?" he asked, and Shacklebolt didn't respond, instead counting under his breath. Harry and Lupin moved forward, eyes fixed on the light of the flare.
"It hasn't hit anything yet," Harry pointed out. "I'd wager that's a yes."
"Let's check it out," Kingsley murmured to Moody, and the grizzled Auror scowled.
"Watch out for snakes," he spat as he stomped forward. "I've got enough problems, I don't need to turn to stone."
Kingsley's lips quirked as the two began heading down the Chamber's length. "Cheer up, Mad-Eye," Harry heard him say. "If you turn to stone, it'll be the closest you've ever come to a real vacation."
The old Auror snorted.
Remus' lips quirked as the bickering aurors' voiced moved away down the corridor, but Bill was done laughing. He strode along the passageway, his eyes roving over every dip and crag in the walls. Coming to a sudden halt, the cursebreaker stared at a patch of stone, his back ramrod straight. The steady drip of busted pipes echoed in the cavern as everyone watched him.
"This," Bill whispered hoarsely, and Remus and Dumbledore exchanged sorrowful looks as Harry stepped forward. "Is this where – ?"
Harry flinched, his breath condensing in the chill air before them. "She fought, Bill." Looking down at the blood and ink stains, his voice rang with quiet pride pride. "She fought for control of her mind, of her soul, harder than I've ever seen anyone fight before."
Bill grinned wryly, images of his spitfire little sister flashing through his mind. He'd always been her favorite, just as Charlie was Ron's, so he was, naturally, the one she had confided in. He had heard Ginny's entire side of the ordeal, every moment each day that she had struggled. But Ginny had only a vague idea of what had happened before she woke in the chamber.
Ginny knew that Harry and Ron had come after her. She knew that they had been separated. She knew that Harry fought. And she knew Harry won.
But Bill knew that the blood on the ground wasn't hers; she'd been very clear on her lack of physical injuries. The one thing nobody had told him was what happened to Harry, he thought angrily.
He eyed the raven-haired young wizard with no small amount of curiosity. What had the boy gone through?
"Here," Dumbledore said sharply, and Bill jumped, spinning around to peer in the direction the elderly wizard pointed. He and the Headmaster were still rather formal with each other, not having spoken since they had performed the Unbreakable Vow the night before.
Dumbledore had moved closer to the Slytherin statue, his usually twinkling eyes hard and flat. "Harry?" he asked, gesturing to the teen, and Harry exchanged a quick glance with Lupin before stepping forward.
"How did Riddle open it?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let out a long, low hiss. Bill bit back a curse as the ground began to shake.
Torches flickered on the walls as dust rained down on them, and Lupin strode forward, shoving Harry back behind him protectively as the other two men held their wands steady on the statue. The mouth was moving with a screeching, grinding sound, hinging open beneath the likeness of Slytherin's stringy beard.
The rumbling stopped when the statue's mouth touched the floor, and Harry jerked free of Lupin's hold once more. Bill shot him a sideways glance as he stopped next to him. Harry's face was blank, his eyes flat. The teen shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly shook his head.
Stop hovering over me, Bill translated silently, and he turned away from the younger wizard and walked up into the opened cavern. The rotted remains of small creatures and shed snake skins littered the ground, giving the air a sickly smell. Lupin hastily cast a Bubblehead Charm around the others, but Bill stepped free of its range and moved further into the dank.
"Damn," Kingsley cursed behind them as he and Moody rejoined the group. He wrinkled his nose against the smell as his eyes scanned their surroundings.
They stood in a long stone room with craggy, uneven walls. The ceiling dipped and rose in more than one spot, sharp protrusions of rock sticking out. Bill fired off a flare and watched as again, the light kept going – and going – and going...
"Looks like it goes all the way to the entrance," Moody said gruffly, his glass eye following the light of the spell, and Dumbledore sent him a sharp glance.
"It does open into the forest, then?" the Headmaster asked worriedly, and Moody nodded.
"So anyone could have walked in here," Lupin muttered angrily. "At any time."
"Doubtful," Kingsley said quietly. "We couldn't get the door to open, so it likely requires Parseltongue just like everything else in here."
"But Voldemort could walk in," Harry pointed out, and the four men went silent. "I'll need to go down there and change whatever password is used," he said with a shrug.
"How will you know the password, boy?" Moody asked harshly, and Harry shot him a strange look.
"I'll know," was his only reply.
Bill shook his head silently, turning his attention back to their surroundings. The cavern branched off in two different directions up ahead, with what looked like a small sitting area down beyond the break. He moved forward carefully, his wand tracing patterns in the air as he watched the ground beneath his feet. The others watched curiously as he raised his hands, palms forward, and began to whisper under his breath. "takshif 'asarurk," he muttered. "'azhar nafsak."
A shimmering webbing appeared on the ground up ahead, green traces shooting through the rock like veins, and he halted where he stood. "tansha," he breathed. A sharp crack rent the air, and the green shimmer exploded outward –
"Shield!" Moody bellowed, but Dumbledore had already moved, and a transparent golden dome appeared around them all. Bill, too far ahead of the others, was hit by the backlash, dozens of cuts lashed across his skin. The red-headed man didn't even flinch, his ponytail swaying as a gust of wind flared up from the ground around him. It formed into a small twister, shimmering green threads flowing in an angry swarm reminiscent of a disturbed hornet's nest.
This is nothing compared to Dahshur and Florence, he thought calmly, eyeing the twister that surrounded him. Bowing his head, he brought his palms together in a resonating clap, and finally cried aloud the words of his incantation.
"Nathar!" he shouted, and with one final crack, the twister disappeared. Bill watched dispassionately as small bones and skins rained down on him, shaking his hair out with a frown.
Spinning on the heel of his dragon-hide boots, he grinned at Harry, whose jaw looked like it was going to hit the ground.
"My job looks a little more exciting than you thought, hmm?" he asked with a sharp grin, and the teen stared.
"That's normal for you?" he asked, and Bill raised an eyebrow as the others chuckled.
Waving his hand at their surroundings, Bill shot back, "Rescuing damsels from a giant snake is normal for you?"
Harry shook his head with a wry smile. "Point," he murmured, and his eyes danced. "I'm telling Ginny you called her a damsel." The danger gone, he managed to shrug off Lupin and moved further down, looking around him with narrowed eyes.
The sitting area was a small, circular space, an ornately carved desk leaned against one wall and an array of armchairs behind it. There was a slight scent of rot in the air, but the furniture certainly didn't look a thousand years old. Truthfully, Bill reflected, the style of the chairs was no more than two or three hundred years old. One chaise sat before the armchairs, its fabric torn and matted in several places. An old-world style tome lay on the cushions, its pages yellowed and fragile.
"My word," Lupin breathed, his eyes scanning the walls to the right of the desk. A good half-dozen bookcases stood there, overflowing with the fragile old texts. It was Bill who stepped forward, casting a quick reveal charm to check for curses or traps, and carefully picked up one of the books. He flipped through the pages, then grabbed another.
"Blank," he said with annoyance after the seventh tome.
Harry was standing silently beside Dumbledore, his gaze dark and anxious. Glancing at Dumbledore, he let out a tired breath as the elderly headmaster nodded. Harry held out his hand towards Bill, and the cursebreaker hesitated a moment before handing Harry one of the tomes.
The teen closed the cover carefully, looked down at the book, and hissed. Opening the cover once more, he held the book out in front of him for the other men to see.
Slowly, writing began to appear in the books, ink welling like blood coming out of the pages. After several moments, the flow stopped, and the ink, still glistening in the dim wandlight, began to rearrange itself on the page.
Bill let out a low whistle as Moody cussed under his breath.
None of the men said anything as they stared down at a clear, though roughly drawn, map.
And Dumbledore smiled, the hardened smile of a hungry predator.
Zauber Centre,
Bavaria, Germany
August 11, 1996
The man moved quietly through the darkness, his eyes narrowed as he peered around himself the still alley. His hands were clenched in the pockets of his robes, one hand around his wand, one around the handle of a dagger. A sudden shuffling sounded behind him and he spun sharply, pulling the dagger from his pocket –
And came face to face with a rat, sitting on a shop windowsill, its small nose pointed up to the sky. The creature squeaked in terror when it saw him, scurrying down into the gutters.
The man let out an angry sigh, shaking his head, and set off back down the street.
The pub was the only lit building in the alley, and he slipped through the doors quietly, moving immediately to the bar. He settled heavily on a stool, propping his elbows up on the bar, and signaled the barkeep with two fingers.
"What'll it be, lad?" The grizzly old barkeep asked as he leaned on the bar, and the man didn't reply. He simply reached into his robes and pulled out a photograph, setting it down on the countertop between them. With a blank expression, he slid the photo over to the barkeep, and the older man froze as he stared down at the image. The barkeep looked up at him fearfully, then spun on his heel and rushed around the bar.
"Everyone, out!" The old barkeep bellowed, and the man bit back a smile.
The other patrons grumbled and glared, but after several moments, the sound of chairs and stools scraping across the floor echoed through the pub, and heavy footfalls sounded towards the door. The man didn't turn, but instead reached across the bar, picking up a full bottle of whiskey and uncorking it. He put the bottle to his lips and drank slowly, his right sleeve bunching around his elbow as he did.
The symbol burned into his wrist glowed in the dim light as the barkeep spun around to stare at him.
"When?" The barkeep demanded hoarsely, and the man just smiled.
A/N: I think I've finally hit aa regular rhythm here, and I should be able to update every two weeks now. Next chapter: legalese, more pain, some serious conversations - and a dash of light kidnapping may come into play!
Reviews are like a three day weekend, much appreciated!
~*~ALIBI