Author's Note - Thanks to Arsinoe de Blassenville and their story The Best Revenge for the idea of the posh wizarding restaurant, Summerisle's, which I reference in this chapter. Blassenville's stories are really great for expanding wizarding culture which is a little lacking in the canon books. I would highly recommend people check it out.
Chapter 18
October Scandals
By the end of the week, it seemed that every single teacher at Hogwarts was ready to throttle Dolores Umbridge. Alaw had witnessed two inspections, one during Herbology and the other during Transfiguration. Both Professor Sprout and Professor McGonagall had answered Umbridge's pestering questions curtly whilst their students peeked at them over their work. Umbridge seemed more interested in any ties the teachers had to Dumbledore than actually assessing how good they were at running a classroom. Hardly any of the questions had pertained to exam scores or lesson plans.
It had been a stressful few days for everyone and Alaw climbed up to Room of Requirement on Friday on weary feet. Her detentions with Snape were finally over and she was grateful to be able to collapse onto the sofa in front of the fire and kick off her shoes. For a few minutes she simply sat there with her eyes closed, listening to the crackling of the logs and the faint hammering of rain on the window panes.
She was very tired, she really wanted to have a hot bath and go to bed, but there was work to be done. Reluctantly, she got up from the sofa and went to sit at the table where the stack of Wizengamot records waited. She hadn't had a chance to do more than glance at them all week. Yawning silently, Alaw arranged her notebook, picked up a biro and opened the first file. At first, Alaw simply skimmed the report, her head resting heavily in her hand as she fought to stay awake. But then, a pair of names caught her eye and she sat up strait, reading the sentence back to make sure she'd understood it.
'We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror – Frank Longbottom – and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the continuing survival of your master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.'
'Father, I didn't! I didn't, I swear it, Father, don't send me back to the Dementors.'
'You are further accused of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Longbottom's wife, Alice Longbottom, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led when he was alive.'
Alaw felt a complete fool. She knew of course that Neville's parents had died during the war, Theodore had taunted him about it back in their first year. But she hadn't known they'd been tortured first, or who the Death Eaters responsible were. Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' cousin, her husband Rodolphus, his brother Rabastan, and Mr Crouch's son, who according to the trial notes had only been twenty-one at the time. As Alaw read through the rest of the file more closely, her feeling of disquiet increased. Barty Crouch Jr kept interrupting his father, begging for mercy, appealing to his mother, screaming that he hadn't been involved. Mr Crouch didn't seem to have heeded his son's pleas for he sentenced him and the other three on trial to life in Azkaban.
A sudden chill ran down Alaw's spine as she read Bellatrix Lestrange's final words to the court, her dire warning that Voldemort would return. Alaw now realised just how cold it was in the Room of Requirement and she got up from the table, rubbing her arms to warm them. She walked over to the fireplace and caught up the poker to bring some life back into the crackling logs. No wonder Hannah and Susan had been so against contacting Crouch. His words in the trial were cold and utterly without pity for his own child. Alaw put down the poker and stared into the flames for a long while, thinking.
She didn't want someone like Crouch as their ally, and the rest of the Flames had voted against it. But they needed powerful friends in the Ministry. There hadn't been a word all week from the Daily Prophet or on the wireless about Theodore, Crabbe and Goyle, even though it was still the hottest piece of gossip in the castle. Umbridge had taken to giving out detentions to anyone she heard discussing the incident. Fudge's influence over the news was frightening, as was his determination to shut his eyes to the truth. Alaw felt she had no choice but to turn to others within the Ministry.
Making her decision, she turned away from the fire and fetched parchment and quill, reseating herself at the table. She paused, thinking carefully how she would phrase her letter, and then dipped her quill into the ink.
Rain hammered against the high windows of Malfoy Manner, but the study was filled with warm light from the fire. Nagini was curled up contentedly before it whilst her master sat behind the desk. He held a letter in one hand and his long white fingers traced the words written on it, a gleeful smile curling his lipless mouth. He read the message again.
Dear Mr Crouch,
I am writing to you in the hope that you are wiser than your colleagues at the Ministry. You will no doubt have heard about the incident last Saturday at Hogwarts involving three students who were found to bear the Dark Mark. I have been disappointed by the lack of response from the Ministry, though I imagine that it Fudge's doing. I know that you have dedicated your life to fighting the Dark Arts and I believe that we can work together in these dangerous times. I would be grateful if you would agree to meet with me soon, so we may discuss the situation face to face.
Yours Sincerely,
Alaw Jones
Voldemort laid the letter down on the desk and chuckled quietly to himself. His operation hadn't been going as well as he had hoped the past few weeks. Avery was suspended from the Wizengamot so he had little inside information there, and some of the new recruits had stupidly got themselves caught at Hogwarts. Voldemort had been particularly livid about that, he had expressly warned them not to draw too much attention to themselves so soon. Their mission had been simply to field support among other likely pureblood heirs and heiresses at the school, not to harass the Mudbloods and Blood Traitors so openly. At least Lucius' son had had more sense than his friends, though Voldemort still wondered if young Draco was more frightened than cunning. Only time would tell.
But now, at last, a stroke of good luck. Alaw Jones was playing right into his hands without even knowing it. Voldemort had to admire her initiative, it sounded as she had been responsible for the capture of his Death Eaters, not Dumbledore had he had first thought. He would have to probe deeper, but there appeared to be a definite rift between the headmaster and his student, a rift the Dark Lord was certain he could exploit if he was subtle enough.
On Saturday morning, Alaw had herself a well-earned lie in. It was nearing noon by the time she got out of bed and started making herself a pot of tea in the living room. She'd just put the kettle over the fire to boil when Sir Cadogan clanked into a painting of a desolate moor over the bookshelf.
"My lady," he said, bowing clumsily. "Forgive me, but there is a maiden outside our chambers seeking entry. She claims to be a friend of yours, and that you wished to speak to her."
"Who is it?" Alaw asked cautiously, not recalling any plans she'd made with Hermione today. Sir Cadogan stumped out of the painting and Alaw waited a few moments until he reappeared, struggling in his heavy armour.
"She says her name is Tracy Davies. With a family name like that, I thought perhaps she hailed from our lands, but her accent betrays her as an Englishwoman."
"Let her in, she is a friend," said Alaw.
Sir Cadogan vanished again and then his own portrait swung open to reveal Tracy, wearing ripped skinny jeans and an ACDC t-shirt.
"Good afternoon," she said cheerfully, stepping into the room and dropping her bag on the sofa. "Pyjama day is it?"
"After the week I've had, I needed it," Alaw explained. She frowned, looking Tracy up and down. "Isn't that Cameron's t-shirt?"
"It is, but he's being all respectable now, isn't he?" said Tracy as she sat down in the armchair. "But he didn't want to get rid of all his cool collectables, so I said I'd look after them for him."
"Ah, poor Cameron," Alaw sighed sadly. "Anyway, what brings you here?"
Tracy indicated her backpack.
"You said you wanted a new tattoo, and I was free today. Unless this isn't a good time?"
"Oh!" Alaw cried, remembering their conversation in the Three Broomsticks. So much had happened in the past week, she'd forgotten all about their little project. "No this is a great time. Uh, have you worked out how much it'll cost?"
"Well, I'm giving you a friends and family discount, but it still won't be cheap I'm afraid, not for a big job like this. Course, magic makes it a lot easier and faster. All together I reckon you're looking at thirty-six Galleons. That's about three hours of work."
Alaw winced at the amount and turned her attention to the whistling kettle to hide her expression. That was a lot of money, but, then again, she didn't really spend much of her student loan here at Hogwarts and this was investment. If it worked, it would mean an extra layer of protection for herself. Tracy seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.
"I know it sounds like a lot," she said. "But trust me, if you were just getting a regular muggle tattoo, it would cost a hell of a lot more. A full body job like this would take hours and hours, magic lets us speed things up considerably. And remember there's all the runic work as well. Hey, would you like to see the sketches I've done?"
Tracy pulled a sketchpad out of her bag and flipped through the pages, beckoning Alaw over so she could see it. The moment Alaw saw the beautiful artwork, she was sold.
"That's gorgeous," she said, a grin spreading on her face. "Damn you talented folk. You know, you should totally open a tattoo parlour in Hogsmeade once we graduate."
"I've got tons of ideas," Tracy admitted. "So, do you like it? That price sound fair?"
"Definitely," said Alaw firmly and Tracy beamed, setting the pad down on the coffee table.
"Great. I made Draco give me some of that numbing potion we were using for Charms so you won't even feel a thing. I'll weave in the runes and spells as we go, I've already done some work on the ink. I actually asked Professor Babbling what she thought would be best and she gave me lots of tips. She seemed really keen on the idea actually so fair warning, she might want to see it once it's all finished. Now then, I'd like you in your pants and bra if you please, I'll set everything up."
"Really, at least buy me dinner first," Alaw said with a smirk and Tracy rolled her eyes.
The tattoo came along rather quickly. Tracy was a dab hand with the needle and thanks to the potion, Alaw couldn't barely feel the point as it pricked her skin. Tracy muttered spells under her breath and occasionally waved her wand over the new ink. They chatted whilst Tracy worked, mainly about the ridiculous inspections and Alaw's triumph over Theodore.
"How's Daphne coping these days?" Alaw asked around lunchtime when Tracy took a break and they ate some sandwiches. Tracy grimaced and swallowed her mouthful before answering.
"Not so great. Her parents are dragging her to London tonight to have dinner with Rowle. They're going to that posh place down the bottom of Diagon Alley, you know, Summerisle's."
Alaw had walked past the elegant windows of Summerisle's a few times on her way to and from Gringotts, but she had never been inside. Draco had mentioned it as a favourite place of his to eat and from that, Alaw gathered it was not for the likes of her. An idea occurred to her and she frowned thoughtfully at her pumpkin pasty.
"What time are they meeting there do you know?" she asked carefully and Tracy cocked her head curiously.
"Uh, seven, I think Daphne said. Why?"
"Ah, no reason really," said Alaw dismissively.
She bit into her pasty and ignored Tracy's inquisitive look, even though the idea that had popped into her mind had taken root and was beginning to flower. Two hours, and a lot of work later, Tracy held up a mirror for Alaw to admire her handy-work.
"It's brilliant!" Alaw gushed, turning this way and that to get a proper look. A black snake, glittering faintly when it caught the light, curled around her torso, with its tail wrapped around her left leg. The head rested on her right shoulder and when Alaw moved, the coils of the creature shifted ever so slightly. The eyes blinked when Alaw rubbed the head with her forefinger.
"Tracy, you're a bloody genius!" she crowed gleefully. "And the runes work so well, you can hardly see them!"
Tracy looked immensely pleased with herself and took a camera out of her bag.
"Can I snap a pic to send to my mum? She was super excited when I told her about this," she said and Alaw consented.
"Is that a magical camera?" Alaw asked, eyeing the old-fashioned looking equipment and Tracy nodded. "Huh, can I borrow it? Just for a bit, I'll give it back tomorrow I promise."
Tracy was surprise, but agreed and handed over the camera. It was a small thing, easily tucked into a bag and unlike most magical cameras, it didn't emit a flash or any irritating puffs of smoke, just a quiet click. Yes, just the thing Alaw needed.
Summerisle's was just as posh on the inside as Alaw had imagined it to be. The central eating area had a marble floor and a domed ceiling of frosted glass. The sky outside was of course dark but a magnificent crystal chandelier emitted a soft light, and every round, white-clothed table had an elegant candelabra resting on it. Alaw sat at one of these tables, concealed beneath the Invisibility Cloak and trying not to squirm. The numbing potion was beginning to wear off and her tattoo was itching. Tracy had given her a special spray to apply before she went to bed which would heal it completely by morning, but until then, Alaw would just have to try not to scratch.
It wasn't quite seven o'clock yet but Alaw had caught the Knight Bus down to London early so she could be here when Daphne and her parents arrived. She was lucky that this table had been free because the one next to it was where Thorfinn Rowle sat waiting for his bride to be. Rowle was a large, muscled man with a mop of blonde hair. As Alaw watched him closely he kept checking his pocket watch with an impatient air. He stood up suddenly and fixed his face into a smile for Daphne had entered the restaurant, along with her mother and father. They were escorted to the table by one of the smartly robed waiters who stepped back tactfully to allow his patrons to greet each other.
Daphne looked quite lovely in forest green dress robes but her smile was definitely forced. Alaw saw her face tighten as Rowle took her hand and kissed it.
She's young enough to be your daughter you scumbag, Alaw thought bitterly. Pleasantries were exchanged, mainly between Rowle and Daphne's father, and then the family sat down and placed their drinks orders. Alaw felt a pang of sympathy for her friend who looked thoroughly miserable. Her parents didn't seem entirely happy either, her mother in particular kept shooting her husband pointed glances. Once the waiter had bustled away, Rowle turned to Daphne.
"So, how are your studies progressing?" he asked and Daphne looked up from fiddling with her cutlery.
"Fine," she said curtly. Her father glanced at her.
"She's being modest. Professor Snape was very favourable in her last report. You're a fine Potion brewer, aren't you Daphne?"
Daphne gave her father a long suffering look before nodding.
"Yes, but I prefer Quidditch. Flint said I could be a reserve this year. I'm half tempted to jinx one of the Chasers just so I can have a go at actually playing. I was on the school team after all."
"Oh yes, I caught a few of those games," said Rowle. "You were excellent."
The forced conversation was enough to make Alaw cringe, and she wasn't even part of it. She couldn't bring herself to sabotage the meal and embarrass her friend any further so she simply sat back and watched, though her stomach began to growl when the food was brought out. The meals here were as elegant as the décor, Alaw could definitely see Draco enjoying himself. As the icy atmosphere around the next table wasn't much fun to observe, Alaw's attention slipped to the other patrons. All were dressed to the nines, the women wore glittering jewels at their throats and in their hair.
Alaw thought she recognised some of the men and women from the Quidditch games last year, which had been considered fashionable events to attend. There were other, less savoury characters knocking about as well. Across the restaurant she spied George Selwyn eating dinner with a woman Alaw assumed to be his wife. Selwyn was a confirmed Death Eater, the Flames had overheard the Order talking about him on the Extendable Ears and Alaw glared over at him. It angered her that Voldemort's supporters could waltz around in public as they pleased, whilst she had to hide under the cloak all the time.
Alaw was just beginning to think the evening wasted when something rather interesting happened. A new pair of people walked into the restaurant, an elegant older lady, and a young man who, judging by his similar jutting jaw, was probably her son. The pair froze upon seeing George Selwyn and he jerked to his feet. There was a tense moment as the two parties glared at each other. The woman dining with Selwyn reached across the table and gripped his wrist, muttering something under her breath. Slowly, Selwyn sat back down, but continued to glower at the new comers.
Once everything had calmed down and all those who had turned to gawk returned to their meals, Alaw cocked her head. How intriguing, those new people must have been members of the Rosier family. The feud between the Selwyns and Rosiers was legendary, though no one knew what had started it. The most prominent rumour of recent times was that George Selwyn had murdered Morgan Rosier in a duel ten years ago, though no one had been able to prove it. It would be simply awful if evidence of such a crime was presented at the Rosiers' door. If only Alaw had such evidence.
Alaw had thought her evening of reconnaissance done once Daphne and her parents had made their farewells and taken their leave, but she was wrong. After paying for the meal, Rowle stood up and left the restaurant. Alaw followed him, expecting him to disapparate once he was out on the street, but he did not. He began to stroll away down Diagon Alley in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. Intrigued, Alaw continued after him. Perhaps he was going to meet somebody and her excitement grew at the idea that she might get to witness an honest to god Death Eaters rendezvous. She had borrowed the camera from Tracy, hoping for something just like this.
Once Rowle entered the pub, Alaw expected him to sit at one of the tables, or perhaps to go into one of the private back rooms, but again, she was surprised. Pausing only to greet Tom the barkeep, Rowle carried on through the Leaky Cauldron and out through the front door. Alaw had to hurry to squeeze past the other revellers and keep up with him. Rowle was already making his way down Charring Cross Road by the time Alaw managed to get outside. Where the hell was he going? Where could a wizard go in Muggle London? An awful possibility occurred to Alaw, what if she was going to witness an attack on a Muggle? What would she do? She had her wand with her, but if she used it, she'd be in trouble with the Ministry again.
Alaw followed Rowle for what felt like a long time. She didn't know London very well, but she thought they were now somewhere in Soho, passing groups of laughing Muggles as they enjoyed their Saturday night out. Rowle finally turned into an establishment that made Alaw stop dead in her tracks and stare for a moment. The neon sign on the outside named it the Cactus Club and there was loud Muggle music coming from inside. A bouncer on the door let Rowle pass without question and Alaw slipped by him unnoticed. Inside was dark, the music was pounding in her ears, and on platforms all around the walls, scantily clad women danced and twirled around poles. A strip club, really? And a Muggle strip club at that. Alaw could hardly believe her luck.
Rowle sat down in one of the booths and clicked for a girl to come over to him, waving a wad of twenty pound notes in his hand. Struggling not to laugh in triumph, Alaw pulled out her camera and lined up her shot. This was going to be beyond perfect.
Halloween was nearly upon them and all around the castle, decorations went up. The Prefects were responsible for organising this and Alaw spent a pleasant afternoon with Ron and Hermione carving enormous pumpkins into jack o'lanterns to float over the four house tables in the Great Hall. Neville had provided the pumpkins, saying Professor Sprout had had him tending them since the beginning of term. But despite the prospect of the party in Hogsmeade, where the Weird Sisters were rumoured to be making an appearance, the only thing anyone could talk about was the Thorfinn Rowle scandal.
Witch Weekly had rarely run such a juicy piece of gossip. An anonymous source had sent them a series of photographs, all depicting Thorfinn Rowle in a Muggle 'house of disrepute', as they had named it. Some of the pictures had needed to be blurred in order to be published and copies of the magazine had been passed gleefully around the school for the students to chortle at. Umbridge had banned it of course, calling it obscene material, and several people had landed in detention with Filch over it. Of course, Rowle hadn't done anything illegal, he hadn't broken the statute of secrecy and cavorting with Muggles was by no means against the law. But it was shocking behaviour of one so high in wizarding society.
The article had just the effect Alaw had been hoping for and she came to know the full impact of her skulduggery one rainy afternoon when she was helping Hermione decorate the banisters of the grand staircase with images of scuttling spiders. Ron had disappeared, saying vaguely that he was going to help Professor Flitwick levitate the pumpkins in the Great Hall. A few students were milling around as dinner had just come to an end so Alaw didn't immediately notice that a couple of people were approaching her. She flourished her wand and caused a group of paper bats she'd made to come to life and flutter up the stairs before turning to find Daphne standing there. Before Alaw could say a word, Daphne had drawn her into a tight embrace. Alaw frowned in confusion over her shoulder at Tracy who was grinning.
"Thank you," Daphne whispered. "I know it was you who sent those pictures. Mum and dad have called off the engagement and mum convinced dad to drop the whole matchmaking angle for good."
She let Alaw go and beamed at her.
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Alaw innocently. "But that's really great news. Besides, you can't get married yet, you're going to play Quidditch for England."
Daphne chuckled but across the Entrance Hall, a jeering voice sounded.
"Yuch, Greengrass, I know you're fiancé has a thing for Muggle scum, but do you really have to go snogging Mud-bloods in front of all of us? Right after we've eaten and everything."
With a resigned sigh, Alaw looked around and found Pansy Parkinson standing over by the stairs leading to the dungeons, along with Hestia Carrow. Daphne had also whipped around and looked ready to say something angry in response when Alaw put a hand on her arm. After giving her a reassuring look, Alaw walked over to Pansy who seemed surprised that Alaw wasn't simply ignoring her or staying among her friends.
"I'm sorry if we made you feel sick, Pansy," she said sweetly, and loudly. "After how terrible you were feeling this past week. Vomiting you're guts up weren't you?"
There were a few sniggers from the onlookers and Pansy flushed in embarrassment. She chose to ignore this and directed her next jab at Daphne again.
"Oh that's right, you don't actually have a fiancé anymore do you? I don't suppose anyone's going to want used goods."
"I never let that creep touch me!" Daphne shot back furiously.
"Of course not, she has some taste," Alaw agreed. "It must suck for you though, Pansy. Imagine having a fiancé who wouldn't shag you for all the gold in Gringotts."
There were true gales of laughter now and Pansy glared daggers at Alaw.
"Everything is great between Draco and I!" she snarled. "You're the pathetic one Jones. I've seen the way you hanker after my man, drooling all over him, it's disgusting. He's mine, and you can't have him."
For some reason her words stung Alaw but she managed to look supremely unconcerned.
"You can keep him and be welcome, if you can manage that of course. From what I can gather, he's taking every opportunity to wriggle out of spending any time with you. Not that I blame him of course."
Pansy whipped out her wand at just the wrong moment, as Professor Flitwick had just emerged from the Great Hall with Snape.
"Now now, none of that. Wand away if you please Miss Parkinson," the diminutive Professor said sharply.
Pansy lowered her wand but did not stow it back in her robes. Her eyes were full of loathing as they glared at Alaw. Professor Flitwick was unhappy with the hostility in the hall.
"Come on Miss Jones, I thought you were helping me with the decorations," he said and Alaw glanced over at him.
"Yes sir, sorry. We're nearly finished." She made as if to go back to her task but at the last second she turned slightly and dropped her voice so that only Pansy could hear, "I'm curious, has Draco actually slept with you yet or does he still cringe at the very thought?"
Pansy whirled around and jabbed her wand at Alaw.
"Densaugeo!" she shrieked.
A jet of purple light streaked across the room and hit Alaw square in the face. She screwed up her eyes and gasped, taking a reflexive step backwards, but the spell had bounced right off her and flew back to strike Pansy. She yowled and her hands flew to her mouth as her teeth began to grow at an alarming rate. The crowd in the Entrance Hall was in stitches though they quietened down and dispersed quickly when they Professors sent them packing. As Professor Snape dealt with Pansy and her new fangs, Flitwick hurried over to Alaw.
"Miss Jones, are you alright?" he asked, looking her over in alarm. "I don't believe my eyes, did you really just perform a wandless, non-verbal shield charm?!"
"Uh, not exactly Professor," Alaw replied mysteriously. Before she could explain further however, Snape had joined them.
"I have sent Miss Parkinson to the Common Room and docked ten points," he said to Flitwick before turning his gaze on Alaw. "As for you Miss Jones, I do not tolerate my students antagonising each other. I know exactly what you did just then. It looks like you're facing more detentions. Wouldn't you agree Filius?"
But Flitwick was still looking her up and down with an extremely impressed expression.
"Do you have a talisman perhaps?" he quizzed. "That was quite an extraordinary shield charm, you must show me how you did it!"
"Filius? Her punishment?" Snape reminded him exasperatedly.
"Oh, yes of course. Ah, detention with me Miss Jones. How about now? Come come, so am I right? Is it some sort of talisman? There must be runes involved."
Once they were in his office, Alaw was able to explain exactly how she had repelled Pansy's hex. She pulled her robes aside to show Flitwick the head of the snake on her shoulder.
"I call her Wadjet," she said cheerfully. "After the Egyptian goddess, because she protects me."
Flitwick was fascinated and took out a pair of golden spectacles just so he could have a closer look. He marvelled at the tiny runes glittering within the ink and even went so far as to call Professor Babbling through his fire so she could come and take a look. Professor McGonagall happened to be with her and soon, Alaw found herself the subject of an impromptu staff meeting once Professor Sprout poked her head around the door and asked what all the hubbub was.
"It was Draco who gave me the idea," Alaw explained. She showed them the dragon pendant she still wore, even though its enchantment was all but dead. "This had a shield charm placed on it, but it didn't last very long. So I thought I could extend the life of the spell by using runes, and a tattoo means I'll never be without protection."
"Runes don't last forever Miss Jones," Professor Babbling reminded her, peering at the snake which blinked interestedly back at her. Alaw smiled.
"Yes, but these ones draw power directly from my own magic, so they'll never die. They renew themselves as my magical core does, it just takes some rest and food and the spell is just as good as ever."
"This is truly extraordinary!" Flitwick gushed, practically bouncing up and down. "A whole new frontier of magic. Inspired! And you did this all yourself?!"
"Oh god no, this is Tracy's baby. I just agreed to be her canvas," Alaw said hurriedly.
When the teachers eventually let her go they began a full on academic debate, and Alaw caught McGonagall say that she had never given Tracy Davies much thought before. Sprout agreed that such a talent shouldn't be neglected and Alaw left the office with a grin on her face.