"My liege, I think…"
"Not a good time, Cadogan," Grey said, his arm around Willow. He felt charged with the anticipation. "Cinnamon." The door opened.
"You changed the password," she said.
"Well, I felt the urge," he said, leaning in and smelling her hair. "Speaking of urges…"
"Umm… Grey?" Her voice wavered.
"What?" He kissed her neck.
"Look up." He lifted his head from her skin. Albus Dumbledore and another man stood in front of his fireplace. The second man bit back his laughter before he spoke.
"Hello, son."
Grey went rigid beside her. He nodded, donning his impassive mask. Willow tensed in response. Something was very wrong here.
"Your father is visiting on behalf of the Board of Governors, in order to ascertain the quality of our security," Dumbledore said. "He asked to speak with you about it personally." The last sentence came out almost apologetically; the elder Grey had informed him of their difficulties. Grey didn't respond. "Well, then, I suppose I'll take my leave. Miss Rosenberg, if you would follow me please." She looked at Grey.
"Stay or go?" He knew she would defy Dumbledore in an instant. It warmed his heart.
"Go ahead. I'll come by when this is through," he said through clenched teeth.
"Of course," she said seriously, not knowing the extent of the problem. She whispered the rest. "Should I wait outside the door, in case?"
"No. It won't be physical." She nodded and stepped away. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a hug, trying to draw her strength into himself. Dumbledore cleared his throat, and Grey released her. She kissed his cheek and left with the wizard.
Then they were alone.
Sir Robert Grey had not changed at all. They could have been brothers, they looked so alike. His father had a fringe of gray hair and wore glasses, and his stomach had expanded a bit with age. Grey always felt that he looked like a country doctor, especially with his penchant for muggle sweaters and khaki pants, which he wore today. But you could still see his son's features and physical strength in the old man, as well as the toughness that had placed him among the finest aurors in the wizarding world.
"She cares for you a lot. It's easy to see," he said. He always had simple speech in private, Grey remembered. "Is she Jewish?" Grey nodded. "Well, thank god for small favors."
"We need to talk. If you pull this silent routine, we're going to have problems. I don't want to have to tell your mother we had problems. Do you?" That comment drew a smile, as it was intended to. Some of the tension broke. His mother was not to be trifled with. "I thought we should talk first, come to some sort of understanding, and then we could face her together."
"Fine. Let's sit." They sunk into the chairs by the fireplace. His father ignited the logs with his wand. "Say it, then."
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"What could I say? I knew how you'd feel."
"About which part, exactly?"
"The quitting. Jess. Going after Voldemort alone."
"You should have told us something. We could have helped you. Six months passes. We haven't heard a word. You disappear. Then, all of a sudden, we hear that our son's fiancee attacked the school and nearly filleted him. We didn't even know what country you were in." His father surprised him; the tone belied concern, not anger. "Did you really think we wouldn't help you?"
"That wasn't it. About Voldemort, well, I thought we could take him. Jess thought so, too. I might have explained the quitting, but Jess was in a bad way and I had to stay with her. Then, when she lost it … I needed to heal alone." His voice caught on the last part.
"Heal?"
"I guess you wouldn't know." Sir Robert Grey, son and grandson of aurors, shook his head, not knowing what his son was alluding to. Grey stood up and removed his blue polo shirt. The newer wounds were distinct against his skin, but the grid of pink scars glistened behind them in the firelight. The elder Grey gasped, understanding flooding his brain.
"My god…" He had no words. He felt something burst behind his eyes, and for the first time in years rejoiced that he had as much power as he did. He silently vowed that she would take a long time to die.
"Dad, don't." Grey saw the anger. He knew how it felt. "She's too powerful now. If you go after her, she'll kill you. Besides, I'm trying to find a way to save her."
"Save her? Are you insane? After that?" Grey said nothing, replacing his shirt. "For God's sake, why?"
"I have to try. What if it was mom?" The words came out very softly, almost inaudibly. They both pondered that.
"Okay," he said after a large breath. "I understand. I won't go after her. I promise." They stared at the fire in silence for nearly twenty minutes.
"It wasn't her," Grey finally said. "It was the power. It seized her, took her prisoner and warped her mind. I have some people trying to figure out how to get rid of it."
"Is that even possible?"
"No idea. If it is, we'll find it."
"You quit your job."
"I did," Grey said. "The way they cut Jess loose … it was too much."
"I thought Fudge handled that badly. Had you come to me, we might have been able to work something out." Grey shook his head.
"There was no time. She was a basket case. I couldn't leave her side. And look what happened - Fudge wasn't totally wrong, in the end. Just tactless and inconsiderate."
"Would you go back? I could have you reinstated."
"No." Before answering, his father considered what Albus had told him of his son's work here.
"I understand."
"You aren't mad?" Grey was surprised that he actually cared about the answer. He had decided to cut his family ties completely, to make his suicide mission simpler. Obviously, he had failed.
"Mad? Not really. I'm saddened that you didn't tell us, and that you didn't trust us enough. But I suppose that was our fault too." Two pairs of brown eyes met. "If you're amenable, how about a truce? You help me explain this to your mother, and I'll stop her from questioning your choices too much. And from now on, you don't hold back and neither do we. We'll need to help each other if we're to win." Grey pondered that for a long while. He would need their help against Jess and Voldemort, and part of him missed them terribly. In the end, it was an easy decision.
"Agreed." They shook hands, and it became a long hug.
"Now, can we get to business?"
"I sort of figured that was the business." Grey felt relieved, though he wasn't sure why. He also felt more like his old self than he had since Halloween.
Robert shook his head.
"No. Two items of real business. The first is the security here. Answer me honestly: is it safe?" Grey thought hard. He couldn't fool his father on this issue.
"No. Not yet. Almost. Giles is bringing some reinforcements from the States, though I don't know the details. That will help. We didn't take very much damage, relatively speaking, but even one casualty is too many. We need to understand how she did some of what she did. Immobilizing Dumbledore is particularly troubling." The elder Grey nodded. "Other than that, the basic problem is size. You'd need the 82nd Airborne and the British First Armored to defend every inch." He explained carefully the measures they had in place, and by the end his father was nodding some more.
"That makes sense."
"I think so."
"Indeed." He thought about all that his son had said, amazed at the man he saw in front of him. He felt old, seeing his son's ability, and also quite proud. "You make a strong case. I also agree strongly with your view that closing Hogwarts puts us at a serious long-term disadvantage. I believe that is why Lucius and his master worked so hard for it."
"Actually, I hadn't thought of it. Harry Potter brought it up."
"Is he in this group that helps you?"
"With his friends."
"That's a stroke of luck."
"Malfoy's master?"
"Voldemort."
"Malfoy's a Death Eater?"
"One of the top ones. His son, though, is something else." The elder Grey explained about Goyle's funeral.
"Interesting."
"It is that. I hope you'll help him come over to our side. I understand from Dumbledore that he's quite talented." Grey decided he would have to discuss that with Harry and company first.
"So will you close the school?"
"No. I trust you to tell me if I must. Should you need further reinforcement, ask me directly." Grey nodded. "On to the second piece of business." He reached over to a satchel on the ground and removed a two-foot long black box. "I never told you much about my father, did I?"
Grey was stunned. His grandfather had always been a forbidden topic at home. "Never."
"He and I had many disagreements, the foremost of which was your mother. Sound familiar?" Grey smiled. They had never warmed to Jess. "It led to a rather serious estrangement. I drew my wand on him once, after some particularly heated words." Grey realized his own disappearance must have brought back painful memories of that. Ashamed of his selfishness, he swore silently not to repeat the error. "He was, however, one of the most successful aurors who ever lived."
"I knew that." Grey had read about him extensively while studying for his position.
"Did you know that he was a squib?" Grey's head almost exploded in shock. The books never mentioned that. "It embarrassed the Ministry that none of their wizards were as talented as he was. They altered many of the public accounts to fudge that point over."
"Wow. I suppose that makes twisted sense. Assholes."
"Yes, well, I quite agree." The elder Grey's face took on a wistful look. "He died before you were born. Before he did, he left this with me. He said a friend told him my son would need it." Robert passed the black box to his son, as he had promised to do almost twenty-five years before. He remembered his father's face and the unrestrained animosity that once flowed between them. He also remembered the look of pride in the old man's eyes when he relinquished the box to the grandson he would never know.
"You had best be careful with it. Those are both deadly and illegal. I couldn't very well have given it to you while you worked for the Ministry. I doubt it will be an issue now, though, and if it is, I will handle it."
Grey opened the package. Wrapped in velvet was his grandfather's lightsaber.