Chapter Ten
Pureblood Families
A quick glance at Ron, Hermione, and Llewellyn's faces the next morning revealed they had had a night as memorable as Harry's. Now, Hermione and Ron were being so disgustingly cutesy, Harry through he would throw up - if it weren't for the fact that Cho and himself were doing so well. Llewellyn was back to her glasses and dark, wavey hair, but it was apparent she and Draco were very happy.
Draco. Malfoy. Harry thought about him. It still felt very strange to suddenly be his friend, and Harry knew both himself and the Slytherin weren't quite ready to suddenly ditch five years of hostility they had shared. But, as Llewellyn kept pushing the two to become friends, Harry had to admit not having to dodge the nasty comments of previous years wasn't such a bad thing. It was still just really odd.
All of Llewellyn's packing wasn't entirely fruitless, as she and Draco were going to be going back to Columbia and meeting up with Rosalind. Llewellyn had described her friend to Harry as, "Bookish, memorizing the most obscure and somehow most important facts and dates of the wizarding world." Harry wondered what Hermione would think of Rosalind.
As was usual now, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all staying at Hogwarts for the remainder of the holiday. Harry was delighted to know that Cho was, too. The weekend after Christmas was a Hogsmeade one, and all four had agreed to go a double date-sort of thing.
The four, all bundled up in lots of extra clothes and cloaks, made their way from Zonko's Joke Shop to The Three Broomsticks in a bitingly cold snow storm. They quickly moved to a table inside, far away from the drafty doors, and Madame Rosmerta handed them four hot Butterbeers.
After a while, they shucked some of their outer layers off, and talked about nearly everything from Quidditch to professors that irked them. As they talked, Harry, who had his back to the wall, kept noticing a dark shape outside the windows, becoming more and less visible as the winds changed directions. He had the feeling it was alive, but it didn't look like a person. Maybe it was a stray dog?
It suddenly clicked. Could that be none other than Snuffles - Padfoot - Sirius? Harry was about to say something to the others when he remembered: Cho. She didn't know about Sirius. Harry thought for a moment. He trusted her, but this was his godfather's life at stake if she knew.
"Hermione, Ron, is that Snuffles out there?" asked Harry, hoping to sound nonchalant.
"Huh?" Apparently they had forgotten his codename from last year.
"Padfoot?" he pressed, looking urgently at them, and hoping Cho wouldn't notice.
"Oh! Oh, Snuffles! Oh, of course!" Recognition came to Hermione's face, but Ron didn't seem to get it. "Snuffles, you know, that great big stray dog we see sometimes?" Now he understood, and the three looked out the window.
"Is Snuffles a nice dog?" asked Cho, putting on her cloak again.
"A perfect gentleman - er, gentledog," replied Ron. His ears reddened, but he quickly put on ear muffs. The four re-donned their winter clothes and headed outside. Sure enough, there was Snuffles, or Padfoot, or Sirius Black.
What brings him here right in the middle of Hogsmeade without even a letter? thought Harry concernedly. Cho patted Sirius on the head, and Harry felt kind of stupid. He thought quickly.
"Hermione, Ron, why don't you go check out the latest arrivals at Honeyduke's while Cho and I go to the new Quidditch shop?" he shouted through the snow.
"Sounds great! C'mon, Hermione!" answered Ron. Now he understood what his friend was hinting at.
Harry took Cho's mittened hand and led her to the Haversacker Haven, checking over his shoulder only once to make sure Sirius wasn't following them. Harry thought he saw three figures walking away from himself and Cho, which comforted him a bit.
"Is something wrong?" asked Cho loudly.
"I'm...I'm just worried about the dog. We haven't seen him for a while, and in this weather, you don't know what could happen," he shouted back. Well, that was actually not an untruth. As if to prove his point, it began to get even windier as he and Cho staggered to the shop.
He opened the door for her, and inside, the warmth was blesssed. They thawed themselves out while looking at the antique Moontrimmer and Silver Arrow broomsticks at the front of the shop. They walked hand in hand amid full sets of Quidditch robes and handle polishes and team mascot plushies that actually moved and talked, silent save for little gasps and remarks about the merchandise.
When they came to the end of an aisle, Cho stopped Harry. "You do know this has nothing to do with our Quidditch games, right?" she asked expectantly.
"What do you mean?" responded Harry, a little confused.
"This," she said again, but pointed to their hand holding. "Us."
"Oh. Yeah! Of course. No effect."
"Good, because the next match is Ravenclaw verses Gryffindor and you're not going to get between me and the Snitch," she joked.
"Oh really?" he replied, grinning. "We'll see about that with you and your Comet 260!"
They laughed and kept walking through Haversacker Haven, but they both wondered: Would Quidditch change for both of them now?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron, Hermione, and Sirius had a more pressing question to worry about: where to hide. Sirius now took the lead, and led them rather slowly and cautiously through the snow to the cave they had met with him in before. Buckbeak wasn't there, and neither was much else, other than a small bag and an old transport-type broomstick. Sirius transfigured, and Ron and Hermione were glad to see his hair short, his frame filled out, and a beard on his face.
"How are you doing?" asked Hermione.
Sirius smiled then, and Ron and Hermione saw that untroubled young man break through the years at Azkaban much more easily. "I'm actually doing very well."
"Where have you been?" asked Ron. "Where's Buckbeak?"
"At home," Sirius replied, and the two looked at him in amazement. "Yes, I have a home now, a small flat in New Jersey. I managed to stowaway myself and Buckbeak on a wizard transport boat across the Atlantic. I got a job as a salesclerk in an apothecary.
"In the States, with a beard, a haircut, a little meat on my bones, and a different name, of course, Howard Smith, no one would ever suspect me of being that what's-his-name criminal from 3000 miles away. I'm starting a brand new life, and let me tell you, it is wonderful. I just have to make sure I don't stick out or get too close to anyone."
"Well, that's wonderful, Sirius! But...what are you doing here?" asked Hermione.
"If it was this easy for an innocent convinct with only his Animagi self and a hippogriff to get to the States and start a new, public life, how easy do you think it would be for an evil mastermind with a horde of loyalists to begin a new, private one?"
Ron let that sink in for a second, and then said, cautiously, "You- Know-Who?"
"Yes, Ron, you're unfortunately right. Voldemort is in the States, and attracting more and more American followers as we speak. This time, when he tries to take over the world, he will be basing himself in the States."
"How do you know? What are the Americans doing about it?" replied Hermione, worried.
"I'm just picking it up from American newspapers, piecing together disappearances, murders...the same trail of mysteries that Voldemort left when he began his first tirade. The Americans have not yet picked up on a connection between the heightened crime and the European monster who was supposedly destroyed fifteen years ago."
They were all silent for a moment, and then Sirius said, "Who was that girl Harry was with, when he wisely separated from you?"
"That was Cho Chang, a sixth year Ravenclaw," answered Ron.
"Oh. Cho Chang...was she the girlfriend of the...the deceased?" he asked cautiously. Hermione nodded. "Good. I was afraid she would be one of the American girls."
"What do you mean?" said Hermione.
"I'm not suggesting anything," said Sirius, "but both of the girls who won the K. W. O. came from old pureblood families, the kind that are attracted to the power that Voldemort tempts his followers with. For a cautionary measure, just try to not get involved with them...." He drifted off when he saw their shocked faces. "What is it?" he asked, afraid of the answer.
"We've already befriended one, Llewellyn Euryale," answered Ron.
"An Euryale? Oh, no...," said Sirius softly. "Where is she now?"
"On...on vacation...in the States...with...with...Draco Malfoy," admitted Hermione.
Sirius nearly had a conniption. "An Euryale...with the son of two Death Eaters...in Voldemort's country!?" he shouted in half-anger, half-shock. Hermione and Ron solemnly nodded. "Oh, this is a bad thing. A very bad thing. Can you trust Cho?"
Ron shrugged.
"Well, I sure hope you can, because we need to see Harry. NOW." He transfigured into a black dog and bounded out of the cave, Hermione and Ron sliding through the snow at his heels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a cabin on a ship somewhere on the Atlantic ocean, Llewellyn was having the snake dream again.
She was lost in a labyrinth, dodging bloody body parts protruding from the walls and ceiling, and venemous snakes slithered everywhere along the floor. Her dream self slid along the ground on a snakelike lower half and clawed hands, the hissing of a dozen snakes forever right around her, and a foul stench always pervading the air. In her dream, after wandering through the maze for what felt like eternity, she found a broken broadsword lying on the ground. Her clawed, misshapened hands picked up a slice of the mirror-like blade and raised it to her face. Who was she? A contorted chin...fangs protruding from a dark, wet mouth...a hideous, squashed nose...uneven, bulbous cheekbones...and the eyes, the eyes....
She woke up with a scream. She was breathing heavily and drenched in a cold sweat. Taking a few calming breaths, she reached for her wand and mutted "Lumos". She found the lamp and turned it on, and then, standing there in her nightgown and feeling shook to her very roots, she looked around the tiny cabin for something to take her mind off the reoccuring dream. She decided to get out a piece of chocolate and a book on Quodpot 2000 from her suitcase, but she found something else.
Examining the small, brownish lump in the poor light, she suddenly remembered - the piece of parchment Tim Wyvern had thrown at her nearly four months ago. She opened it and read it:
Llewellyn,
My older brother hangs out with the "wrong crowd",
and I've been hearing things from him about someone
called The Dark Lord. Over vacation I snuck into his
room and found a list of names. I don't know if they
are connected to this Dark Lord, but I don't recognize
any. I did some research on The Dark Lord and found
out he terrorized Europe up until about 15 years ago.
So maybe you could try to research some of these names
while your there at Hogwarts.
Llewellyn read the list names. Most drew a blank, some sounded vaguely familiar, like Nott and MacNair, but there were some that bothered her. Snape...and Crabbe...and Goyle...but most of all, Malfoy.
She put her hand on the doorknob, but stopped herself. Tim, the practical joker, the crazy enchanter, had discovered an unlabeled list while snooping. It really could be anything....
But curiosity got the better of her, and she walked through the darkened hall of the ship towards Draco's room. She knocked gently on the door, and after no response, knocked harder. She was just about to try again when he appeared, looking rather cranky, and dimly lit by wandlight.
"What does this mean?" was all she said, and handed the whole letter to him. Blearily at first, he looked at the names in increasing disbelief and sat down right there on the floor.
"It's the Death Eaters," he whispered mournfully to no one in particular. "You-Know-Who must be back, and has something to do with the States." He held up the letter and looked at her. "Is Tim going to be at Columbia?"
Llewellyn nodded.
"I need to talk to him," said Draco. With the letter still in hand, he shut the door and left Llewellyn alone to her confused thoughts.
Pureblood Families
A quick glance at Ron, Hermione, and Llewellyn's faces the next morning revealed they had had a night as memorable as Harry's. Now, Hermione and Ron were being so disgustingly cutesy, Harry through he would throw up - if it weren't for the fact that Cho and himself were doing so well. Llewellyn was back to her glasses and dark, wavey hair, but it was apparent she and Draco were very happy.
Draco. Malfoy. Harry thought about him. It still felt very strange to suddenly be his friend, and Harry knew both himself and the Slytherin weren't quite ready to suddenly ditch five years of hostility they had shared. But, as Llewellyn kept pushing the two to become friends, Harry had to admit not having to dodge the nasty comments of previous years wasn't such a bad thing. It was still just really odd.
All of Llewellyn's packing wasn't entirely fruitless, as she and Draco were going to be going back to Columbia and meeting up with Rosalind. Llewellyn had described her friend to Harry as, "Bookish, memorizing the most obscure and somehow most important facts and dates of the wizarding world." Harry wondered what Hermione would think of Rosalind.
As was usual now, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all staying at Hogwarts for the remainder of the holiday. Harry was delighted to know that Cho was, too. The weekend after Christmas was a Hogsmeade one, and all four had agreed to go a double date-sort of thing.
The four, all bundled up in lots of extra clothes and cloaks, made their way from Zonko's Joke Shop to The Three Broomsticks in a bitingly cold snow storm. They quickly moved to a table inside, far away from the drafty doors, and Madame Rosmerta handed them four hot Butterbeers.
After a while, they shucked some of their outer layers off, and talked about nearly everything from Quidditch to professors that irked them. As they talked, Harry, who had his back to the wall, kept noticing a dark shape outside the windows, becoming more and less visible as the winds changed directions. He had the feeling it was alive, but it didn't look like a person. Maybe it was a stray dog?
It suddenly clicked. Could that be none other than Snuffles - Padfoot - Sirius? Harry was about to say something to the others when he remembered: Cho. She didn't know about Sirius. Harry thought for a moment. He trusted her, but this was his godfather's life at stake if she knew.
"Hermione, Ron, is that Snuffles out there?" asked Harry, hoping to sound nonchalant.
"Huh?" Apparently they had forgotten his codename from last year.
"Padfoot?" he pressed, looking urgently at them, and hoping Cho wouldn't notice.
"Oh! Oh, Snuffles! Oh, of course!" Recognition came to Hermione's face, but Ron didn't seem to get it. "Snuffles, you know, that great big stray dog we see sometimes?" Now he understood, and the three looked out the window.
"Is Snuffles a nice dog?" asked Cho, putting on her cloak again.
"A perfect gentleman - er, gentledog," replied Ron. His ears reddened, but he quickly put on ear muffs. The four re-donned their winter clothes and headed outside. Sure enough, there was Snuffles, or Padfoot, or Sirius Black.
What brings him here right in the middle of Hogsmeade without even a letter? thought Harry concernedly. Cho patted Sirius on the head, and Harry felt kind of stupid. He thought quickly.
"Hermione, Ron, why don't you go check out the latest arrivals at Honeyduke's while Cho and I go to the new Quidditch shop?" he shouted through the snow.
"Sounds great! C'mon, Hermione!" answered Ron. Now he understood what his friend was hinting at.
Harry took Cho's mittened hand and led her to the Haversacker Haven, checking over his shoulder only once to make sure Sirius wasn't following them. Harry thought he saw three figures walking away from himself and Cho, which comforted him a bit.
"Is something wrong?" asked Cho loudly.
"I'm...I'm just worried about the dog. We haven't seen him for a while, and in this weather, you don't know what could happen," he shouted back. Well, that was actually not an untruth. As if to prove his point, it began to get even windier as he and Cho staggered to the shop.
He opened the door for her, and inside, the warmth was blesssed. They thawed themselves out while looking at the antique Moontrimmer and Silver Arrow broomsticks at the front of the shop. They walked hand in hand amid full sets of Quidditch robes and handle polishes and team mascot plushies that actually moved and talked, silent save for little gasps and remarks about the merchandise.
When they came to the end of an aisle, Cho stopped Harry. "You do know this has nothing to do with our Quidditch games, right?" she asked expectantly.
"What do you mean?" responded Harry, a little confused.
"This," she said again, but pointed to their hand holding. "Us."
"Oh. Yeah! Of course. No effect."
"Good, because the next match is Ravenclaw verses Gryffindor and you're not going to get between me and the Snitch," she joked.
"Oh really?" he replied, grinning. "We'll see about that with you and your Comet 260!"
They laughed and kept walking through Haversacker Haven, but they both wondered: Would Quidditch change for both of them now?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ron, Hermione, and Sirius had a more pressing question to worry about: where to hide. Sirius now took the lead, and led them rather slowly and cautiously through the snow to the cave they had met with him in before. Buckbeak wasn't there, and neither was much else, other than a small bag and an old transport-type broomstick. Sirius transfigured, and Ron and Hermione were glad to see his hair short, his frame filled out, and a beard on his face.
"How are you doing?" asked Hermione.
Sirius smiled then, and Ron and Hermione saw that untroubled young man break through the years at Azkaban much more easily. "I'm actually doing very well."
"Where have you been?" asked Ron. "Where's Buckbeak?"
"At home," Sirius replied, and the two looked at him in amazement. "Yes, I have a home now, a small flat in New Jersey. I managed to stowaway myself and Buckbeak on a wizard transport boat across the Atlantic. I got a job as a salesclerk in an apothecary.
"In the States, with a beard, a haircut, a little meat on my bones, and a different name, of course, Howard Smith, no one would ever suspect me of being that what's-his-name criminal from 3000 miles away. I'm starting a brand new life, and let me tell you, it is wonderful. I just have to make sure I don't stick out or get too close to anyone."
"Well, that's wonderful, Sirius! But...what are you doing here?" asked Hermione.
"If it was this easy for an innocent convinct with only his Animagi self and a hippogriff to get to the States and start a new, public life, how easy do you think it would be for an evil mastermind with a horde of loyalists to begin a new, private one?"
Ron let that sink in for a second, and then said, cautiously, "You- Know-Who?"
"Yes, Ron, you're unfortunately right. Voldemort is in the States, and attracting more and more American followers as we speak. This time, when he tries to take over the world, he will be basing himself in the States."
"How do you know? What are the Americans doing about it?" replied Hermione, worried.
"I'm just picking it up from American newspapers, piecing together disappearances, murders...the same trail of mysteries that Voldemort left when he began his first tirade. The Americans have not yet picked up on a connection between the heightened crime and the European monster who was supposedly destroyed fifteen years ago."
They were all silent for a moment, and then Sirius said, "Who was that girl Harry was with, when he wisely separated from you?"
"That was Cho Chang, a sixth year Ravenclaw," answered Ron.
"Oh. Cho Chang...was she the girlfriend of the...the deceased?" he asked cautiously. Hermione nodded. "Good. I was afraid she would be one of the American girls."
"What do you mean?" said Hermione.
"I'm not suggesting anything," said Sirius, "but both of the girls who won the K. W. O. came from old pureblood families, the kind that are attracted to the power that Voldemort tempts his followers with. For a cautionary measure, just try to not get involved with them...." He drifted off when he saw their shocked faces. "What is it?" he asked, afraid of the answer.
"We've already befriended one, Llewellyn Euryale," answered Ron.
"An Euryale? Oh, no...," said Sirius softly. "Where is she now?"
"On...on vacation...in the States...with...with...Draco Malfoy," admitted Hermione.
Sirius nearly had a conniption. "An Euryale...with the son of two Death Eaters...in Voldemort's country!?" he shouted in half-anger, half-shock. Hermione and Ron solemnly nodded. "Oh, this is a bad thing. A very bad thing. Can you trust Cho?"
Ron shrugged.
"Well, I sure hope you can, because we need to see Harry. NOW." He transfigured into a black dog and bounded out of the cave, Hermione and Ron sliding through the snow at his heels.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a cabin on a ship somewhere on the Atlantic ocean, Llewellyn was having the snake dream again.
She was lost in a labyrinth, dodging bloody body parts protruding from the walls and ceiling, and venemous snakes slithered everywhere along the floor. Her dream self slid along the ground on a snakelike lower half and clawed hands, the hissing of a dozen snakes forever right around her, and a foul stench always pervading the air. In her dream, after wandering through the maze for what felt like eternity, she found a broken broadsword lying on the ground. Her clawed, misshapened hands picked up a slice of the mirror-like blade and raised it to her face. Who was she? A contorted chin...fangs protruding from a dark, wet mouth...a hideous, squashed nose...uneven, bulbous cheekbones...and the eyes, the eyes....
She woke up with a scream. She was breathing heavily and drenched in a cold sweat. Taking a few calming breaths, she reached for her wand and mutted "Lumos". She found the lamp and turned it on, and then, standing there in her nightgown and feeling shook to her very roots, she looked around the tiny cabin for something to take her mind off the reoccuring dream. She decided to get out a piece of chocolate and a book on Quodpot 2000 from her suitcase, but she found something else.
Examining the small, brownish lump in the poor light, she suddenly remembered - the piece of parchment Tim Wyvern had thrown at her nearly four months ago. She opened it and read it:
Llewellyn,
My older brother hangs out with the "wrong crowd",
and I've been hearing things from him about someone
called The Dark Lord. Over vacation I snuck into his
room and found a list of names. I don't know if they
are connected to this Dark Lord, but I don't recognize
any. I did some research on The Dark Lord and found
out he terrorized Europe up until about 15 years ago.
So maybe you could try to research some of these names
while your there at Hogwarts.
Llewellyn read the list names. Most drew a blank, some sounded vaguely familiar, like Nott and MacNair, but there were some that bothered her. Snape...and Crabbe...and Goyle...but most of all, Malfoy.
She put her hand on the doorknob, but stopped herself. Tim, the practical joker, the crazy enchanter, had discovered an unlabeled list while snooping. It really could be anything....
But curiosity got the better of her, and she walked through the darkened hall of the ship towards Draco's room. She knocked gently on the door, and after no response, knocked harder. She was just about to try again when he appeared, looking rather cranky, and dimly lit by wandlight.
"What does this mean?" was all she said, and handed the whole letter to him. Blearily at first, he looked at the names in increasing disbelief and sat down right there on the floor.
"It's the Death Eaters," he whispered mournfully to no one in particular. "You-Know-Who must be back, and has something to do with the States." He held up the letter and looked at her. "Is Tim going to be at Columbia?"
Llewellyn nodded.
"I need to talk to him," said Draco. With the letter still in hand, he shut the door and left Llewellyn alone to her confused thoughts.