Chapter Six
A little girl lie on the ground screaming in pain, one man laughing as he watched her, the other pulling out his wand. Two words were spoken and in a flash of green light the screaming stopped. A shallow grave was constructed, the body tossed in.
"Losing your nerve, Lucious?" one of the hodded men sneered, walking off. Lucious just shook his head, and like the others, walked off into the dark woods, their torches now extinguished. None of them knew what he knew. None of them would ever know. The grave sight was left, unmarked, unregarded. But as the silence settled over the woods once more something strange began to happen.
A low silvery mist began to form over the ground, collecting together, forming the shape of a small body. It was the little girl burried beneath the dirt. Like most ghosts she was nearly transparent and silvery in color...all except her eyes. They were still blue.
"Help me," she cried softly, though no tears could fall from her now. "Help..."
Harry woke up to someone punching him on his shoulder repeatedly. Putting on his glasses he found that it was Ron. "What are you doing?!" he demanded, rubbing his shoulder.
"Harry, I saw more of what we saw earlier!" Ron hissed. "I mean...It was like earlier, but in a dream."
"I saw it too," Harry grumbled.
"Man, I knew that Lucious Malfoy was a jerk but I didn't know he'd killed a muggle kid!"
"He's a Death Eater," Harry stated. "What makes you think he would have had mercy on a kid who'd seen them and was going to tell someone?"
"Good point," Ron agreed glumly. "Man, the next time I see him-"
"You aren't going to do anything," Harry snapped. "There's no point in getting yourself killed before we even get back to school."
"You sound like Hermione now," Ron argued.
"What about me?" The boys turned to find Hermione standing in their doorway in her white nightgown. "Did you guys see it to?" They nodded. "This is really getting to be too much. I think we should tell someone."
"Like who, Dumbledore?" Harry asked, a bit irritated, mostly because he'd had very little sleep. Hermione nodded. "Don't you think he and the adults have enough problems on their hands right now? Dealing with a ghost isn't going to top the priority list."
"Harry's right," Ron agreed. "They won't want us bothering them."
"So what are we supposed to do?" Hermione asked in exasperation. She plopped down on Ron's empty runnig her hands nervously through her bushy brown hair.
"Well, I think she's showing us the night she died becasue she wants us to find her," Harry began. "So we just have to find the wooded area she keeps showing us."
"But if she died about thirteen to fourteen years ago," Hermione began, "then a lot of places will be different! Things change a lot in that kind of time."
"What about your psychic friend?" Harry suggested looking at Ron. "The one your dad knows."
"That could be a few people in that department," Ron explained. "But I think I can give them a call on the telephone, they actualy use those things since they help muggles too."
"I'll call," Hermione stated quickly. She and Harry both remembered how Ron had used the telephone, though he was getting better at it. "Should we do it now?"
"There's a muggle public phone not to far from here, right down the street," Harry said. "I saw it earlier. We can call from there. Ron, you have the number."
"Yeah, I memorized it," Ron grinned. "My dad made me."
"Lets go then. And have your wands ready," Hermione warned. Not that they'd too much good against a Death Eater trying to cast the killing curse. There really wasn't a defense to that spell. Pulling on their shoes they tip-toed out of the Leaky Culdron and hurried down the road, anxious to make the call and return before anyone noticed.
"Here's the number, Hermione," Ron whispered, handing her a slip of paper that he'd written it down on. "Ask for any psychic associated with Arthur Weasley." She nodded, waving her hand at him to shut him up as she waited for an answer.
"Hello, Psi-Network; Camerane speaking, may I help you?"
"Yes, I would like to speak to an associate of Arthur Weasely," Hermione said, trying to sound professional.
"This is one. Are you someone who works for Mr. Weasley?"
"Eh...sorta. I'm a friend of his son, Ron."
"Ah, and is Ron Weasley with you?"
"Ron, she wants to speak with you," Hermione stated, passing the phone to him. "Remember, just talk normal."
"Hello?" Ron asked.
"Hello, this is Camerane speaking. Is this Ron Weasley, Arthur's son?"
"It is."
"And how can I help you?" Camerane asked sweetly.
"We need some help on locating a missing person," Ron explained. "We have a charm from a necklace that belonged to her and we were hoping you could help us by touching it and...well...finding where she's at."
"I don't see why I can't help. Is this something the Ministry is looking into?" Camerane pressed.
"Er...not really. We don't want to involve the adults because of more pressing issues that they have to deal with right now."
"Ah, okay. Well, I don't mind keeping a secerate, as long as you don't tell him it was me if you get caught. I don't want to lose my job."
"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone it was you who helped us," Ron promised.
She giggled. "I'm glad. Do you have a meeting place and time in mind for me to do this search?"
"Um..." Ron cast a glance at Harry, repeating the question.
"Tell her, two o'clock tomorrow, at the Leaky Culdron. The adults will be doing a bit of school shopping at that time." Ron repeated that message to Camerane, said good-bye, then hung up.
"There, its done," he said with a yawn. "Lets get back before we're killed."
"He's right," Hermione agreed, looking around worridly. "Lets go!" The three of them ran back to the Leaky Culdron at a sprint, careful not to wake up Tom as they walked inside. But at the base of the stairs, something was waiting for them. A big black dog with amber eyes.
A little girl lie on the ground screaming in pain, one man laughing as he watched her, the other pulling out his wand. Two words were spoken and in a flash of green light the screaming stopped. A shallow grave was constructed, the body tossed in.
"Losing your nerve, Lucious?" one of the hodded men sneered, walking off. Lucious just shook his head, and like the others, walked off into the dark woods, their torches now extinguished. None of them knew what he knew. None of them would ever know. The grave sight was left, unmarked, unregarded. But as the silence settled over the woods once more something strange began to happen.
A low silvery mist began to form over the ground, collecting together, forming the shape of a small body. It was the little girl burried beneath the dirt. Like most ghosts she was nearly transparent and silvery in color...all except her eyes. They were still blue.
"Help me," she cried softly, though no tears could fall from her now. "Help..."
Harry woke up to someone punching him on his shoulder repeatedly. Putting on his glasses he found that it was Ron. "What are you doing?!" he demanded, rubbing his shoulder.
"Harry, I saw more of what we saw earlier!" Ron hissed. "I mean...It was like earlier, but in a dream."
"I saw it too," Harry grumbled.
"Man, I knew that Lucious Malfoy was a jerk but I didn't know he'd killed a muggle kid!"
"He's a Death Eater," Harry stated. "What makes you think he would have had mercy on a kid who'd seen them and was going to tell someone?"
"Good point," Ron agreed glumly. "Man, the next time I see him-"
"You aren't going to do anything," Harry snapped. "There's no point in getting yourself killed before we even get back to school."
"You sound like Hermione now," Ron argued.
"What about me?" The boys turned to find Hermione standing in their doorway in her white nightgown. "Did you guys see it to?" They nodded. "This is really getting to be too much. I think we should tell someone."
"Like who, Dumbledore?" Harry asked, a bit irritated, mostly because he'd had very little sleep. Hermione nodded. "Don't you think he and the adults have enough problems on their hands right now? Dealing with a ghost isn't going to top the priority list."
"Harry's right," Ron agreed. "They won't want us bothering them."
"So what are we supposed to do?" Hermione asked in exasperation. She plopped down on Ron's empty runnig her hands nervously through her bushy brown hair.
"Well, I think she's showing us the night she died becasue she wants us to find her," Harry began. "So we just have to find the wooded area she keeps showing us."
"But if she died about thirteen to fourteen years ago," Hermione began, "then a lot of places will be different! Things change a lot in that kind of time."
"What about your psychic friend?" Harry suggested looking at Ron. "The one your dad knows."
"That could be a few people in that department," Ron explained. "But I think I can give them a call on the telephone, they actualy use those things since they help muggles too."
"I'll call," Hermione stated quickly. She and Harry both remembered how Ron had used the telephone, though he was getting better at it. "Should we do it now?"
"There's a muggle public phone not to far from here, right down the street," Harry said. "I saw it earlier. We can call from there. Ron, you have the number."
"Yeah, I memorized it," Ron grinned. "My dad made me."
"Lets go then. And have your wands ready," Hermione warned. Not that they'd too much good against a Death Eater trying to cast the killing curse. There really wasn't a defense to that spell. Pulling on their shoes they tip-toed out of the Leaky Culdron and hurried down the road, anxious to make the call and return before anyone noticed.
"Here's the number, Hermione," Ron whispered, handing her a slip of paper that he'd written it down on. "Ask for any psychic associated with Arthur Weasley." She nodded, waving her hand at him to shut him up as she waited for an answer.
"Hello, Psi-Network; Camerane speaking, may I help you?"
"Yes, I would like to speak to an associate of Arthur Weasely," Hermione said, trying to sound professional.
"This is one. Are you someone who works for Mr. Weasley?"
"Eh...sorta. I'm a friend of his son, Ron."
"Ah, and is Ron Weasley with you?"
"Ron, she wants to speak with you," Hermione stated, passing the phone to him. "Remember, just talk normal."
"Hello?" Ron asked.
"Hello, this is Camerane speaking. Is this Ron Weasley, Arthur's son?"
"It is."
"And how can I help you?" Camerane asked sweetly.
"We need some help on locating a missing person," Ron explained. "We have a charm from a necklace that belonged to her and we were hoping you could help us by touching it and...well...finding where she's at."
"I don't see why I can't help. Is this something the Ministry is looking into?" Camerane pressed.
"Er...not really. We don't want to involve the adults because of more pressing issues that they have to deal with right now."
"Ah, okay. Well, I don't mind keeping a secerate, as long as you don't tell him it was me if you get caught. I don't want to lose my job."
"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone it was you who helped us," Ron promised.
She giggled. "I'm glad. Do you have a meeting place and time in mind for me to do this search?"
"Um..." Ron cast a glance at Harry, repeating the question.
"Tell her, two o'clock tomorrow, at the Leaky Culdron. The adults will be doing a bit of school shopping at that time." Ron repeated that message to Camerane, said good-bye, then hung up.
"There, its done," he said with a yawn. "Lets get back before we're killed."
"He's right," Hermione agreed, looking around worridly. "Lets go!" The three of them ran back to the Leaky Culdron at a sprint, careful not to wake up Tom as they walked inside. But at the base of the stairs, something was waiting for them. A big black dog with amber eyes.