September 8, Evening
I was in the infirmary again. This time it was for another meeting. Madam Pomfrey had screened off an area for me to stand behind. Albus had thoughtfully placed a silence spell on the area. No one could see me or hear any noise I made, but I would still be able to see and hear everyone clearly. It was almost like being in the theater.
Mam wouldn't be there. After what happened in the classroom, she was easily persuaded to spend the time interviewing the Tinker. She was using her maiden name to avoid any possible problems.
The Sorting Hat had also retired itself from the group, until it had something more to contribute. Mr. Olivander had left as well. He would be in touch, but he could not leave his shop for too long.
Madam Montague was there in place of Mam. It turned out that she really is to be the music teacher. She and Albus had talked for years about setting up a music class, but it was only until now, with someone who clearly had musical talent coming to the school, that they were able to pull enough strings to make the addition to the curriculum. My ego was quickly deflated, however, when she mentioned Fiona.
The meeting started with Madam Montague. "As Claire has mentioned to some of you, this case is now under the jurisdiction of the Department of Mysteries. All of you must now abide by the Secrecy Act of 1863, (1) and you may not reveal anything of this case without clearance. I can also assure you, you will not get clearance."
She handed a parchment to Arthur Weasley, telling him, "Effective immediately, you are attached to the Department as a consultant, with a monthly stipend for your services. This will be in addition to your regular duties with Muggle Artifacts. To avoid inquiries as to your increased income, it will be noted as a bequest from an obscure relative who remembered you in the will."
"In other words, you're bribing me to keep my mouth shut," Arthur said, unrolling the parchment. "I'm speechless," he added as he finished reading.
"Oh my," Molly said, as she read the parchment.
Madam Montague smiled, saying, "don't be too surprised, Arthur. The way you've handled this incident so far has been admirable. You've earned every knut."
"We've received the report from Scotland Yard on the Wyatt family," she continued. "I've already discussed this with Albus, and he will have something to add, when I am finished.
As to the family, both parents, and the eldest son, Gregory, aged 9, were killed in an automobile accident in January of 1974. According to the official records, Their car hit a patch of ice, and was thrown off the road. The younger son, Timothy, aged 6, was listed as missing, presumed dead."
"It's a shame," said Hagrid, "the little tyke is older than any kid in the school, and he doesn't even know it. That's why he's got all them blanks spots in his head."
"Sadly, yes," Albus agreed. "It also explains the memory blocks. They keep him from remembering his family. Yet, I did discover one thing about the boy that may explain how he survived the accident. I checked the lists of all children born or raised in Great Britain who have magical abilities. He is listed with those of his age group, and I would guess that his name keeps moving down the list as the others get older. Also, to beat you to the obvious question, I already asked the Sorting Hat why it did not notice. The Hat explained that the boy had so many spells performed on him, that it was simply impossible to tell."
"He has magic in him," Molly Weasley said, "will wonders never cease? I hope Claire does right by him."
"Excuse me, Madam Montague," Neville asked at this point, "I hope I am not too forward, but is it proper to have someone in your department doing social work."
"Claire is well qualified," Madam Montague said, "During Voldemort's first rising, that is what she did. There were a significant number of orphans and abandoned children to deal with. I would not be surprised if she handled your case, Neville, after your unfortunate circumstances. And please, Neville, call me Elizabeth."
A brief silence followed. I did not know the story, and felt it better not to think about it. What scared me was when she mentioned Voldemort. It was like the day the teacher told us about World War One. You don't say it like that unless it happened again.
As Albus asked if anyone had anything to add, I looked at Peeves. He had mentioned knowing about the box, but know one else had said anything. Peeved looked nervous, but when Albus went to declare an end to the meeting, he spoke up.
"He is my friend," Peeves said. "I don't want to tell. It would be a good secret. I watched the Tinker. I did this for Owen. The Tinker has a box."
"Do you mean the green box he keeps the pennywhistle in?" asked Albus.
"Yes," said Peeves. "He ALWAYS has that box. He even has the box in his bed."
"What if someone tried to take the box?" mused Arthur aloud. I wished I could shout. He had touched on the source of my problem.
"Oh, my," said Madam Montague, "That answers one question, and begs another. Why is the box do important? And why would Owen try to take the box? I will be very happy when I am done with this case."
As the meeting ended, I watched Peeves float away through the wall. Elizabeth Montague excused herself after some small talk. Neville also bade everyone farewell.
"He still doesn't know?" Arthur asked Albus.
"I haven't had the heart to tell him," Dumbledore replied. "He thinks everybody likes him because of a charm that has been placed on him. If he finds out that isn't true, he may retreat to his old shell. He might once again become 'Neville who lost his toad,' as he so quaintly put it."
"He'll never figure out what's going on with Ginny, I can tell you that," Molly said.
When Albus gave her a curious look, she added, "I've been watching my daughter, the way she follows him around, for one reason or another. No wonder everyone thinks they're a couple. But that girl has to figure out what she wants first, before Neville will be able to understand any of it."
"Molly," her husband said, "you make it sound like they might become serious."
"And they might, once they get their act together. Mark my words, down the road you'll be looking at Neville as a possible son-in-law."
Arthur laughed a little, "I'm sure Neville is a nice enough boy..."
I watched as Molly burst out in a full belly laugh. "Those are the exact words my father, and my brother Darren, used about you."
"I don't think I've ever heard you talk of your brother before," Albus said.
"He's an accountant," Arthur said in embarrassment.
I was surprised to hear that. "Go n-ithe an cat thu is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat," (2)
I thought angrily. I was so mad I almost missed Dumbledore's response.
"It is odd to hear you say that. Owen says I remind him of his uncle. You did know Darren married Owen's Aunt Jessica?"
Through the screen, I could see the Weasleys were ashamed. It's hard, learning what someone can do, when you've ignore them because of what they can't do. Fergus taught me that.
1. Secrecy Act of 1863, Standards of Conduct and Control, Section 8, Statutes 16 thru 34.
2. Go n-ithe an cat thu is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat (Gow nih awn caht hoo is gow nih an DEH-vul awn caht) Meaning: May the cat eat you, and may the devil eat the cat.
