Voldemort looked skeptically at Theavolos.
"The train?"
Theavolos scowled at Voldemort. "Yes, I've already explained it to you once, I won't do it again."
"Very well, but what about Wormtail, he is missing."
"I'm afraid Wormtail was not as loyal as you thought. I wouldn't count on seeing him anytime soon, there are many rats in England."
Voldemort was getting more angry with word out of Theavolos' mouth. As soon as Voldemort was through with him he would kill him, but for the present.
"Fine, I'll send someone else. Crabe! Goyle!"
Two men slunk forward from the group of death eaters.
"Make sure the train never reaches it's destination."
The two men groveled on their way out of the room.
***
Lupin watched the train as people started to board. He caught snips of their conversations.
"No, I haven't read that book-"
"Do you really think he will ask her?"
"What about the quiet one- Lisa is it?"
"lets spray some of the stinky perfume in our compartment-"
Finally Lupin spotted two men he recognized in a bad excuse for muggle clothing. Stepping smoothly behind a column he pulled out his wand pointed it at the two men and muttered inaudibly under his breath. The two men both tripped, looked at each other and got on the dark blue train.
He turned as if to go, but in half turn he stopped. He had the distinct feeling someone was watching him. Looking around Remus saw no one. Wild thoughts whipped across his head- torture, death, and worse than death- all possible if he was caught. Trying desperately not to panic he started walking. He hadn't minded undercover work until he had seen the bodies of Voldemort's last victims. They were mutilated in ways never dreamed of. But he couldn't think about that, not here, he had to control himself, there was a lot at stake. Stiffening internally Lupin headed out of the station.
***
Mrs. Figg was sitting quietly by the fire. She had a book in her lap, but she hadn't turned the page for a half hour. She sat, and thought, and watched fire flicker orange and yellow. She was so intent on the colors that she didn't hear the soft pop that announced her visitor.
"Marie dear," a friendly voice said. "Are you alright?"
Mrs. Figg turned around and saw Dumbledore. She smiled broadly.
"Albus. How delightful Please come and sit down, would you like some tea?"
"Never mind the tea," said Dumbledore sitting next to Mrs. Figg in front of the fire. "I don't have very long."
"That's right. shouldn't you be at school? The students will be arriving soon!"
Dumbledore chuckled. "I have a few hours, all the preparation I had to do I finished weeks ago."
"It's just like you to be on top of things."
They sat in friendly silence for a while. Mrs. Figg found herself slip into the past- eleven years ago.
She had been living on Privet Drive for about six years, her husband George had been working at Hogwarts, and Arabella was trying to find a home for herself- just a few years out of school. That summer had been a great one. When Mrs. Figg wasn't watching Harry for the Dursleys she was able to visit her daughter and her husband. It killed her not having them close, but George would have it no other way, and neither would she.
After all, they had known Voldemort in school.
Dumbledore seemed to read her thoughts.
"There is nothing you could have done Marie."
"I know," Mrs. Figg. "But I can't help wondering if I had somehow given him a chance, if it would have turned out different."
"You gave him a chance. We all did."
He was right, She had given him a chance. More than one actually. She slipped back further in her memory. Ever since their first year at Hogwarts Tom Riddle had been infatuated with the lovely Marie Cantos, but she had been repelled by his inner cruelty.
Tom had been a model student of course, and he was always polite to the teachers and to his fellow student. at least on the surface. Mrs. Figg had seen his inner self. The part that would torture puppies and taunt students, the part he didn't show except to his closest friends. And he desperately wanted lovely Marie to be his friend. To her, it was his one redeeming quality, she though he was capable of love.
But he wasn't, not real love anyway. Tom didn't love Marie, he had wanted her to be his, just like one wants a car, or a house. It was possession, not love. She had never really fallen for it, holding Tom off at arms length every year. They were friends, and frequently they were fighting. Every now and again she found out about something he had done that was so mean, so cruel, that she wouldn't talk to him for a month. It was during one of these fights that she met George.
George was the very opposite of Tom. He was a good student, but far from perfect, he was clumsy and had a temper that kept the teachers on their toes. She had known George her entire time at Hogwarts, (who didn't?) but it was a the beginning of seventh year when she ran into him (literally) out on the grounds that she fell in love. He had knocked her to the ground, being much bigger than her, and when he had reached down to help her up something had happened. Ever since that day they had loved each other, and even in the darkest times they had never stopped.
Tom had been mad. So mad he yelled at her in front of the entire great hall at breakfast once. George had yelled back, she had to have two of his friends help her stop him from hitting her past friend. That was the end of her friendship with Tom. They didn't talk until the week before their graduation, he pulled her back after their potions final. She had been on the verge of forgiving him when he had told her he would kill George unless she married him. She had looked into his eye and knew he wasn't joking.
She felt nothing but hate from that moment on. His front of kindness, of caring, was stripped away in an instant. Mrs. Figg had stood her ground against him. She had looked him straight in the eyes and told him that if he so much laid one finger on George he would regret it.
As she had turned to go she saw him raise his wand out of the corner of her eye. Whipping around she heard him cry "Crucio!" 'But she was ready. She yelled it back at him before his curse could hit her. They were stuck by their mutual curses for a minute before Frederick Fletcher found them. Tom had looked at her with shock beyond all belief. Mrs. Figg could tell he had administered the curse before, but he had never felt it. She had hurt him badly. Adding to his pain Mrs. Figg had threatened that next time she wouldn't stop at cruciatous, and stormed off.
The next time they met he had become Lord Voldemort.
"Marie, I want you to stop thinking about it," Dumbledore said firmly.
"But they killed George because of me," Mrs. Figg started to choke up. "If it wasn't for me, if I had handled Tom better-"
For the second time in eleven years Mrs. Figg cried about her husband. Voldemort's supporters had killed him. Tortured him and killed him eleven years ago today, just because George had loved her. The pain of finding out her husband was dead flooded back to Mrs. Figg as she wept uncontrollably into Dumbledore's arms.
"Please Marie dear, I know it's hard, but you can't blame yourself. My godson loved you with all his heart. I know that he would have rather been married to you for a second rather than live with out you forever."
Dumbledore had always know what to say. The tears slowly dried as Mrs. Figg got herself under control.
"Better? I have to leave soon so down to business."
Mrs. Figg sat up straight and listened.
"The good first. Fletcher will be coming soon from France to help us. I expect you will enjoy that. Also, Arthur Weasley will be sending a ministry official to take Peter off your hands."
Mrs. Figg smiled at that, she had not enjoyed having the stunned visitor in the house.
"Any questions?"
"One," said Mrs. Figg. "What did you call this place when we first got here?"
"Ah," said Dumbledore please she had asked. "It is called Katoikia, it means-"
He stopped in mid sentence and turned pale.
"Train. Harry.The devil." he mumbled softly before slumping over and falling onto the floor.
Mrs. Figg let out a shriek and tried to catch the old man. She searched desperately for a pulse, but couldn't find one.
"The train?"
Theavolos scowled at Voldemort. "Yes, I've already explained it to you once, I won't do it again."
"Very well, but what about Wormtail, he is missing."
"I'm afraid Wormtail was not as loyal as you thought. I wouldn't count on seeing him anytime soon, there are many rats in England."
Voldemort was getting more angry with word out of Theavolos' mouth. As soon as Voldemort was through with him he would kill him, but for the present.
"Fine, I'll send someone else. Crabe! Goyle!"
Two men slunk forward from the group of death eaters.
"Make sure the train never reaches it's destination."
The two men groveled on their way out of the room.
***
Lupin watched the train as people started to board. He caught snips of their conversations.
"No, I haven't read that book-"
"Do you really think he will ask her?"
"What about the quiet one- Lisa is it?"
"lets spray some of the stinky perfume in our compartment-"
Finally Lupin spotted two men he recognized in a bad excuse for muggle clothing. Stepping smoothly behind a column he pulled out his wand pointed it at the two men and muttered inaudibly under his breath. The two men both tripped, looked at each other and got on the dark blue train.
He turned as if to go, but in half turn he stopped. He had the distinct feeling someone was watching him. Looking around Remus saw no one. Wild thoughts whipped across his head- torture, death, and worse than death- all possible if he was caught. Trying desperately not to panic he started walking. He hadn't minded undercover work until he had seen the bodies of Voldemort's last victims. They were mutilated in ways never dreamed of. But he couldn't think about that, not here, he had to control himself, there was a lot at stake. Stiffening internally Lupin headed out of the station.
***
Mrs. Figg was sitting quietly by the fire. She had a book in her lap, but she hadn't turned the page for a half hour. She sat, and thought, and watched fire flicker orange and yellow. She was so intent on the colors that she didn't hear the soft pop that announced her visitor.
"Marie dear," a friendly voice said. "Are you alright?"
Mrs. Figg turned around and saw Dumbledore. She smiled broadly.
"Albus. How delightful Please come and sit down, would you like some tea?"
"Never mind the tea," said Dumbledore sitting next to Mrs. Figg in front of the fire. "I don't have very long."
"That's right. shouldn't you be at school? The students will be arriving soon!"
Dumbledore chuckled. "I have a few hours, all the preparation I had to do I finished weeks ago."
"It's just like you to be on top of things."
They sat in friendly silence for a while. Mrs. Figg found herself slip into the past- eleven years ago.
She had been living on Privet Drive for about six years, her husband George had been working at Hogwarts, and Arabella was trying to find a home for herself- just a few years out of school. That summer had been a great one. When Mrs. Figg wasn't watching Harry for the Dursleys she was able to visit her daughter and her husband. It killed her not having them close, but George would have it no other way, and neither would she.
After all, they had known Voldemort in school.
Dumbledore seemed to read her thoughts.
"There is nothing you could have done Marie."
"I know," Mrs. Figg. "But I can't help wondering if I had somehow given him a chance, if it would have turned out different."
"You gave him a chance. We all did."
He was right, She had given him a chance. More than one actually. She slipped back further in her memory. Ever since their first year at Hogwarts Tom Riddle had been infatuated with the lovely Marie Cantos, but she had been repelled by his inner cruelty.
Tom had been a model student of course, and he was always polite to the teachers and to his fellow student. at least on the surface. Mrs. Figg had seen his inner self. The part that would torture puppies and taunt students, the part he didn't show except to his closest friends. And he desperately wanted lovely Marie to be his friend. To her, it was his one redeeming quality, she though he was capable of love.
But he wasn't, not real love anyway. Tom didn't love Marie, he had wanted her to be his, just like one wants a car, or a house. It was possession, not love. She had never really fallen for it, holding Tom off at arms length every year. They were friends, and frequently they were fighting. Every now and again she found out about something he had done that was so mean, so cruel, that she wouldn't talk to him for a month. It was during one of these fights that she met George.
George was the very opposite of Tom. He was a good student, but far from perfect, he was clumsy and had a temper that kept the teachers on their toes. She had known George her entire time at Hogwarts, (who didn't?) but it was a the beginning of seventh year when she ran into him (literally) out on the grounds that she fell in love. He had knocked her to the ground, being much bigger than her, and when he had reached down to help her up something had happened. Ever since that day they had loved each other, and even in the darkest times they had never stopped.
Tom had been mad. So mad he yelled at her in front of the entire great hall at breakfast once. George had yelled back, she had to have two of his friends help her stop him from hitting her past friend. That was the end of her friendship with Tom. They didn't talk until the week before their graduation, he pulled her back after their potions final. She had been on the verge of forgiving him when he had told her he would kill George unless she married him. She had looked into his eye and knew he wasn't joking.
She felt nothing but hate from that moment on. His front of kindness, of caring, was stripped away in an instant. Mrs. Figg had stood her ground against him. She had looked him straight in the eyes and told him that if he so much laid one finger on George he would regret it.
As she had turned to go she saw him raise his wand out of the corner of her eye. Whipping around she heard him cry "Crucio!" 'But she was ready. She yelled it back at him before his curse could hit her. They were stuck by their mutual curses for a minute before Frederick Fletcher found them. Tom had looked at her with shock beyond all belief. Mrs. Figg could tell he had administered the curse before, but he had never felt it. She had hurt him badly. Adding to his pain Mrs. Figg had threatened that next time she wouldn't stop at cruciatous, and stormed off.
The next time they met he had become Lord Voldemort.
"Marie, I want you to stop thinking about it," Dumbledore said firmly.
"But they killed George because of me," Mrs. Figg started to choke up. "If it wasn't for me, if I had handled Tom better-"
For the second time in eleven years Mrs. Figg cried about her husband. Voldemort's supporters had killed him. Tortured him and killed him eleven years ago today, just because George had loved her. The pain of finding out her husband was dead flooded back to Mrs. Figg as she wept uncontrollably into Dumbledore's arms.
"Please Marie dear, I know it's hard, but you can't blame yourself. My godson loved you with all his heart. I know that he would have rather been married to you for a second rather than live with out you forever."
Dumbledore had always know what to say. The tears slowly dried as Mrs. Figg got herself under control.
"Better? I have to leave soon so down to business."
Mrs. Figg sat up straight and listened.
"The good first. Fletcher will be coming soon from France to help us. I expect you will enjoy that. Also, Arthur Weasley will be sending a ministry official to take Peter off your hands."
Mrs. Figg smiled at that, she had not enjoyed having the stunned visitor in the house.
"Any questions?"
"One," said Mrs. Figg. "What did you call this place when we first got here?"
"Ah," said Dumbledore please she had asked. "It is called Katoikia, it means-"
He stopped in mid sentence and turned pale.
"Train. Harry.The devil." he mumbled softly before slumping over and falling onto the floor.
Mrs. Figg let out a shriek and tried to catch the old man. She searched desperately for a pulse, but couldn't find one.