Chapter 33
It took them a while to realise that Hermione was missing.
"Well, if she's not here, where is she?" Adrienne demanded angrily. Her cheeks were roaring again, and she didn't care. She was furious. This would be the second time in as many weeks that she had lost her mother. Draco meekly brought his eyes to meet her own.
"I think she might have gone to hospital," he said from behind his dinner plate. Adrienne's gaze smouldered into him until he gave more details.
"She said that she was going to investigate the woman. She went to the hospital- the Muggle one, you know," Adrienne rolled her eyes- her mother had educated her enough for her to realise that there was more than just one Muggle hospital in London.
"Which one," she ground out, her anger making her skin sweat.
"The one on the side of the city that the woman lived on. I don't know, she just said that she'd be back by the afternoon. She's a grownup, she's able to take care of herself," Draco was saved from certain death by the runner.
The man was tall, his hair and eyes dark, his nose long and straight, and he exuded an air of quiet competence. Adrienne's eyes flickered over to her father before she glared once again at the man.
"Who are you?" she asked impertinently. She didn't feel like being polite at this point in time- all she wanted was to find her mother. The man just gave her a small smile and helped himself to a glass of pumpkin juice.
"I," he said once he had seated himself and drank his glass, "am Seeker. I am a hireling," he smiled at some personal joke in this word, "to the Auror Academy. I run errands for them." He refilled his glass. Adrienne was bursting.
"What do you want, then?" Her ears were burning, too, now, and it was all she could do to keep from bursting out into either spontaneous tears, or hysteric rage. Inside, she was a boiling vat of emotions, none of which positive. The man just smiled again.
"I have a message for you all." The dinner table, already quiet, became so silent that a mouse would have been heard running at the other end of the Great Hall. "At around lunchtime today, five men in black robes entered the Auror Training Facility. They proceeded to Kate Tiaret's rooms. Therein, they kidnapped her. Unfortunately, one of your staff," he indicated Minerva with his head, "happened into the room as they were preparing to leave. She was taken also. I have been requested to bring this message here, and to help you recover your staff member. We had known about this attempt for quite some time, and decided to leave it to happen. We did not, however, foresee the involvement of your staff member. We are sorry that we have involved you in an internal matter, and hope that you will forgive the Academy and return to cordial relations with them. We would not expect this to happen if your staff member were not returned to you, whole in body and mind. Please consider." The man rolled his eyes.
"Now that I've delivered the message, I can stop using the royal plural. I'm here to help. Does that answer your questions, missy?" he asked Adrienne's paler-than-usual face. Somewhere, all her anger had drained away, leaving her cold.
"I think so," she replied, fumbling to get to a seat before her legs gave way beneath her. "Now tell me what you mean by 'kidnapped', and letting it happen."
The mysterious smile made another appearance. "Well," he began, "it all started with a snotty, pureblood witch with high morals about issues she really knew very little about. She left school- Hogwarts, coincidentally- and ran into a little trouble. Daddy dearest wouldn't pay for University, and there was really very little she could do without training in one area or other.
"One day, in her moping, she ran into a man in a black robe. He offered to help her with her training, and she would end up with qualifications to enter law enforcement. Her little mind ticking over the possibilities, she agreed without thought to what might be required of her at the end of the metaphoric day.
"She went to the place where the man lived, and met his leader- a woman of some small renown. 'I run', she said, 'a warrior tribe who perform all sorts of acts for pay. We may proclaim war on a particular class of society, or we may dispose of a person in silence. We are the most feared society in wizarding culture. We are the Blackhawks,' which was enough to send a shiver down the girl's back. But, she reasoned with herself, they are a respectable wizarding tradition, and I will be learning things to go on into another profession, she told herself. So she agreed to join, and took the blood oath.
"She was trained in the ways of the tribe, though they often turned her stomach. She learned to kill in cold blood, and how to read people's stances and faces. She was taught a great deal more than is covered in even the most thorough Auror training, and she practiced what she learned also. It wasn't long before she was more than qualified to join the Auror ranks. She went back to the leader to ask for out.
"'Well,' the woman replied, 'there is the small thing of the payment for your tuition.' The girl looked worried at this, as she had very little money of her own.
"'What payment do you want? You know my money better than I do.'
"'Actually,' the woman answered, 'it is not money we require from you. It is service. You have trained here, and you will serve here. It is our way. However,' the woman's eyes sparkled with mischief, 'I do understand that you have been promised a respectable job with the Aurors. You may do great good there for us by turning a blind eye on a great many things. You know our sign,' the woman finished with a wink. 'I will write your reference.'
"The girl sighed as the woman left to go and write her reference. She gripped her dagger in her sleeve. Perhaps she could cancel the debt before it began? She followed the woman into the room, drawing her dagger and sliding it into her back.
"The woman turned at the last instant, and instead of a fatal blow, the razor-sharp dagger slid into her shoulder. The woman's eyes glistened with pain and betrayal.
"'You will pay for this,' the woman hissed, sliding her shoulder off the blade. She handed the girl her paper and walked from the room, her shoulder spilling blood all the way. The girl shook with terror, waiting for the retaliation for her attack.
"She was struck in the back with a spell, and, though it only appeared to turn her hair blonde, it burned into her very soul a mark- the midnight mark of the Blackhawks. It was by this that they tracked her down when it was time for payment.
"The Aurors, knowing that this was a blood feud, kept out of the way. Unfortunately, one variable introduced an element of danger- a woman who knew nothing of this story entered the scene and had the brave idea of saving a woman whom she had only partially known. She is not accountable for this- yet, she should not stay in the hands of the Blackhawks. She is innocent of this tale and merely a loose thread. Let us hope she has enough common sense not to become a loose cannon."
The man finished his story with his audience still entranced. After a moment, heads were shaken and the threads of magic- such old magic that it is often discarded as merely imagination- were broken.
"But," Draco asked, "I've never heard of 'Tiaret' as a pureblood name. Surely I'd know it if it were," he added, picking up a little of Seeker's poetic language.
"She changed it," he shrugged, drinking deep of another glass of pumpkin juice.
"Well, what was it before she changed it?" he asked impatiently.
"I don't know. I'm not privy to such classified information," the man parroted with a wink. "That's Auror language for they have no idea either, so they can't exactly pass it on."
"Oh." Draco looked crestfallen.
"I want mama," Lianna mourned unhelpfully. She lowered her head to her arms on the table, her shoulders shaking with tears. Draco draped an arm over her, giving her comfort.
"I want that woman," Adrienne growled.
"Good luck," Seeker chirped, setting down his glass. "She's the original Blackhawk. She's invisible and immortal. There's not a chance you'll catch her. And she's not a bad person, at any rate," he shrugged. "Just practical."
"Practical, my toenail. If mama's even scratched I will take an accounting for every wound threefold. And nobody get in my way," she glared at everyone present. Seeker just beamed at her, while everyone else shook their heads meekly.
"I'll help," Snape spoke clearly over the table noise. Adrienne met his eyes, saw the anger that burned there and nodded.