Wishes

By: Airelle Vilka

Chapter 23 Delilah's Secret

"THIS is your brilliant idea?" Airelle Vilka exclaimed exasperatedly as the carriage sped through the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley. Her companion and she were both wrapped in hooded cloaks, despite the fact that it was high noon in April.

"Relax," replied Snape, closing the curtains to the window and leaving them both in semi-darkness. Bright rays of sunlight streamed through the cracks; doubtlessly their ride looked strange to the vacationing crowds outside – black stagecoach drawn by a pair of obsidian black horses, carrying two people in black cloaks and darkened faces. I won't be surprised if we'll be stopped on grounds of suspicion, thought Airelle with a grin. That was, in fact, not likely to happen, but it was an amusing thought anyway. She had rarely seen carriages in Diagon Alley.

"So," she said, leaning against the wall and watching Snape carefully from opposite her, "explain this to me. Why are we in Diagon Alley and not at Hogwarts like Dumbledore said?"

Snape crossed his arms; his skin looked even more pallid in the surrounding dimness than usual. "You didn't have to come, you know."

"Right," she smirked. "And let you go by yourself. You promised you'd tell me this plan of yours, and I chose to come with you."

"Perhaps one of us should have stayed at the school, nevertheless."

"Not likely," replied Airelle. "There's safety in numbers. But I'm still worried about the fact that you're disobeying Dumbledore's orders."

"He never ordered us to stay at Hogwarts, Airelle," said Snape, lifting the curtains and taking another surreptitious glance out the window. "From what I understand, he suggested it. But with the current circumstances, we cannot lose any more time and wait for him to return from London. We must take this further than Dumbledore is willing to."

"Why do I make out that you suspect something even worse than what Dumbledore does?"

Snape nodded. "He says the situation is grave; I think it is more than that."

"And let me guess… this notion of yours is supported by the missing notebook?"

"Precisely."

"Do you know who—"

"No. But I believe the same person who is responsible for the Yule Ball and Valentine's Day attacks—the man Madame Pomfrey and Longbottom described as having a black cloak with a red hood—was the one who stole Voldemort's notebook. I am nearly 100 percent certain of it."

"I never thought it was an accident, either," murmured Airelle bitterly. "Although… how does it fit? How? What is so important? And how did our attacker know about it?…"

The Potions Master's lips thinned. "To discover that, we must take a few preliminary steps. I have thought this out, and I believe I have the solution."

"Well, thank you, Sher—ACK!" (the carriage hit a bad stone and jumped) "—lock Holmes! So, are you going to grace me with your brilliant strategy now, or let me dangle until you present the whole mystery gift-wrapped in a box?"

"Your sarcasm," grinned Snape, "is very subtle."

"Thanks, I worked hard to perfect it," she answered monotonously.

"All right, all right," he conceded, raising his hands in mock defense. "I think I should tell you now."

"No kidding."

"I have taken the liberty of contacting a young lady named Natalie Willows Umbëre, who works as a shopkeeper here in Diagon Alley," said Snape, taking out a piece of parchment and unfolding it. Airelle shifted to his side and peered over his shoulder. It contained the name and an address in a hasty scrawl.

"That doesn't tell me anything," she said crossly after a while. "Who is this Ms. Umbëre?"

"One of Delilah Haze's former friends from school," said Snape, looking triumphant. Airelle made a face at him.

"And what's so great about her?"

"Ms. Umbëre," he drawled the words, as if she were small and he had to chew them for her, "can provide us with information about Ms. Haze's past. Perhaps she may lead us to the attacker indirectly – say, for example, tell us something about Ms. Haze… maybe why she could be a target."

Airelle settled back down. "It's a long stretch, Snape."

"I know. But other than trying to get it out of Voldemort, do you have any better ideas?"

Airelle was silent.

"I didn't think so," said Snape.

"But," she asked after a while, "wouldn't it be a good thing to at least tell Dumbledore about this?"

"Why should we? We're only leaving Hogwarts for a day, and it's vacation time. Besides, if we find anything, he'll be the first to know. I don't want to promise him anything and then come empty-handed."

Somehow, Airelle did not think that was a very good excuse, but she stayed quiet. Perhaps Snape's ego had begun to kick in. He probably wanted all the credit for catching the attacker on his own. Anyway, there wasn't really a risk in all of this, and she doubted they'd get anything big from Natalie Willows Umbëre. After all, Snape had said she and Delilah were 'former' friends. And to Airelle, that meant they hadn't spoken since Graduation. Judging by Delilah's age – approximately 23 – that had to be at least six years of separation. One heck of a lot could happen during six years; Airelle's own experiences attested to that.

"Very well," she said as Snape placed the parchment back inside his cloak. "I hope this Natalie girl can at least tell us something useful."

"So do I," he replied, and the coach bounced again. "So do I."

They descended from the carriage some time later. Airelle stared at the storefront while Snape paid the driver discreetly and bid him drive off. The wheels were still rumbling in the distance when they entered, the little bell at the top of the front door announcing their presence to anyone who cared.

"So this is Willows-Matrisse Spellbook Shop," said Airelle, her eyes roaming over the numerous shelves lining a corridor-like room. In the middle were also four rows of parallel cabinets filled with books on each side. At the very end of the room, facing them, was a counter. It looked fairly new, and no one was minding it, apparently.

"C'mon," she whispered to Snape, and pulled him between the two middle cabinets, the tops of which were lined with a row of candles apiece. There was some talking at the other end of the room, but they did not see anybody until they reached the counter.

"Ah," came a voice from an adjoining room, and a thin young woman made her way out. She faced them, looking directly into Snape's eyes, and smiled pleasantly. "Are you on a quest for texts, or for me?"

"You," said Snape curtly. "That is, if you are the owner—"

"I am Natalie Willows Umbëre," the witch curtseyed, straightening her crimson-lined hat. "I manage the shop jointly with my sister, Matrisse. I take it you are Professor Severus Snape?"

"Yes," said Snape, nodding his head as a return greeting. Airelle shook the bookkeeper's hand.

"I am his associate, Airelle Vilka," she said. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Umbëre."

"Likewise… and please, call me Natalie."

"Will do."

"So, Ms. Umbëre," said Snape, obviously deciding to continue addressing her formally for his part, "I shall get to the point. We are here to ask you a few questions about—"

"Delilah Haze," she said, and Snape nodded. "Well, here, I'll pull you up chairs, and we'll chat." With that statement, Natalie disappeared into the next room, finally emerging with two tall stools that she placed in front of the counter. Resuming her place behind it, she said, "Delilah and I were old pals, since we entered school in the United States. Later on, she transferred to Hogwarts…"

Airelle looked at Snape. "Does that mean you had her as a student?"

"Yes," he replied. "Ms. Umbëre, please continue."

"Well," she said, "let me think… we sort of lost touch afterwards… until I moved here and set up this bookstore. We owled each other occasionally, but it was never the same type of friendship we had before. Anyway… do you want to know anything specific?"

"Do you know what she did after Graduation?" asked Airelle without thinking.

"Delilah… she definitely traveled for a while, I do know that much. And after that, she got a degree in Muggle Studies… and then… I know that when we were young, she always wanted to take Defense Against the Dark Arts. So, the last thing I heard from friends was that she planned to return to Hogwarts as an assistant to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor there."

"Ms. Umbëre," said Snape seriously, "these friends you speak of – who are they?"

"Just… people I met here…"

"Can you think of any one of them who might have wanted to hurt her?"

Natalie looked shocked. "Oh, never. They didn't even really know her."

Airelle's eyes narrowed abruptly, and she elbowed Snape in the gut.

"What are you—" he began, but stopped. There was someone else in the back of the shop, talking and laughing.

"Maybe… we should take this talk somewhere more private?" Snape suggested.

"I don't think so," said Natalie. "They're just children, I fathom. They won't have any clue what we're speaking of."

Airelle wasn't too keen on the idea. "Still—perhaps—"

But she was stopped by a voice floating towards the counter. The very last voice she expected to hear.

"Natalie! Are you in here?"

And from behind a bookcase came three smiling faces… all of which, oddly enough, dropped to the floor upon beholding Snape's scowl.

"P—P—Professor!" Tracy Patts stammered, falling backwards onto her friend Alica, who in turn squashed a gasping Ron Weasley between herself and the bookshelf.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Snape snarled, scaring even Natalie.

"Buying books in our favorite store," said Ron, brushing dust from his robes. "It isn't a crime, is it?"

Snape, knowing full well he didn't have a reason to take points from any of the three students, pointedly ignored Airelle's glare. "We are having an important conversation," he hissed in an irritated tone, "so if you kindly… remove yourselves…"

"Oh, no, there's no need for that," said Natalie kindly, patting Tracy on the head. "They're all exceptional."

"Just as well," said Snape, "I would really appreciate it if this was postponed until they are—finished," (and at this he stared at the three murderously). Alica seemed undaunted; she had taken many a scolding from Snape in her time at Hogwarts.

"We'll be really quick, Professor," she beamed, knowing it would aggravate him further. "We promise."

While the Potions Master fumed, Airelle turned to Ron and inquired, "So, Mr. Weasley, what are you doing with these two ladies?"

"Well," he replied, "Harry's… off someplace, and Hermione is working on a Defense Against the Dark Arts project with Professor Lupin. They wanted me to get some books for them, and Tracy and Alica here brought me along for the ride."

"Uh-huh," said Airelle. "I… see. So," (finding she had nothing else to say, she had turned back to Natalie even though she wasn't supposed to say anything yet), "tell us more about your friend. What were her—hobbies? Did she have a family?"

"Well," Natalie began with some uncertainty, for Snape was still not looking thrilled about Tracy, Alica, and Ron being nearby, looking at books, "she never talked much about her family. I think she was adopted… and l know she left them behind when she moved from America. She basically relied on her friendships to sustain her spirit. It was a big thing for her."

"What were her hobbies?"

"Well, she loved to read… liked animals a lot…do you want to see an album? I still have it."

"Sure, why not?" said Airelle, even though the students were now listening, and Snape was looking positively homicidal.

"Oh, excellent! Wait 'til you see these…" And she hurried off into the next room to fetch the journal, leaving the professors alone with Alica, Tracy, and Ron.

"Snape," said Airelle softly, so that only he could hear, "are you finding any of this helpful?"

"I could be asking better questions," he whispered back, "if only those three dolts took the hint and scrammed."

"Don't worry, they said they'll be quick—"

"Here we go," panted Natalie, coming back into the room and interrupting Airelle. She was laden with an enormous, leather-bound volume that was as thick as her arm. Slamming it down on the countertop and wiping her forehead, she looked up at Airelle and Snape.

"Childhood memories," said Natalie, and heaved the cover open. Airelle leaned forward to look.

Fifteen minutes had passed, and there was nothing in the moving photographs that was unusual in any way. Most of them depicted a young Delilah, her long black hair styled in different fashions, with her friends and adopted family. Airelle was becoming more and more convinced that they would find nothing. Snape, however, kept staring at each and every photo intently.

Airelle covered her yawn with a hand and glanced over her shoulder back at the rows of books. Ron Weasley was engaged in a quiet argument over a book with Tracy, while Alica held another thin book in her arms. With that one, the fourth-year Ravenclaw headed to the counter.

"Can we get this?" she asked, and Natalie nodded.

"Sure. Excuse me." And she hurried off to the end of the counter, leaving Airelle and Snape with the album. Out of her ear, Airelle could hear Natalie say, "That'll be two Galleons."

Two Galleons for a book? Ouch, isn't that rather expensive? The ex-Auror turned her head slightly to see Alica Tylon pay the money and stuff the book into an inner pocket of her robes. I wish I were this obsessed with reading, thought Airelle with a small smile. I'd pay inordinate sums for books, too.

Snape turned the page. The next set of pictures showed Delilah in an American amusement park, wearing Muggle attire and waving madly. Her hair was tousled (no surprise, considering the gargantuan roller coasters behind her) and a big grin was on her face.

Another page turned. More photos of Delilah and her friends, but this time there were only two or three from the same batch. These had been taken at Hogsmeade.

"Recognize anybody?" asked Natalie, returning to her chair. Snape bent over the pictures and scrutinized each one meticulously. Then, he shook his head.

"No, nothing whatsoever."

"You know, it's funny," said Airelle jokingly, turning the page again and looking at a picture of Delilah's pals and their pets, "that Delilah's parrot isn't in any of the pictures. It must've been really un-photogenic."

Natalie looked up. "What parrot?"

"You know," said Airelle exasperatedly, "her pet one. The red and green one… I believe it flew off after the attack on her."

"Oh, yeah," Ron Weasley cut in, even though he wasn't supposed to be in the conversation at all, "Neville mentioned it after the Yule Ball. He said he played with it."

"I thought Delilah had it for as long as she could remember," Airelle added curiously.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Miss Vilka," laughed Natalie, "but I'd known Delilah for a long time, and she never had a parrot."

Ron shrugged and was about to say something else, and Airelle cringed. That boy was going to get it from Snape for interrupting—

But, apparently, Snape was far from paying attention to the Gryffindor at all. He was staring at the ceiling, and had turned a remarkable shade of green. Airelle drew backwards and looked intently at him.

"Professor Snape?" she asked cautiously. "What's wro—"

Snape lowered his head, finally, and said quietly, "Oh, good heaven."

He had never uttered the words 'good heaven' before, and Airelle had an urge to shake him.

"We have to return to Hogwarts," he said, sprinting up from the chair so hard he knocked it down. "Now."

Natalie, the three students, and Airelle all wore the same look of puzzlement. "What?"

"Don't you see?" he exclaimed, grabbing his best friend by the shoulders. "It all makes sense—and we… we're in danger, we must leave!"

Airelle, still looking confused, let Snape pull her up off the chair. Sadly, it was too late.

A person stepped out from behind a bookcase. The very last person she could have imagined or expected to be there. Airelle only had time to gasp, "You?" before the curse hit her.

"Awfully sorry, chaps," came Neville Longbottom's cool, crisp voice out of the dark. "But I'm afraid none of you are going anywhere."

And then, all senses melted into a soft, velvety blackness.

To Be Continued…