Out of the Clear Blue Sky
Chapter Fifteen - Skimming
A/N: Whew! Here's the next chapter. I received a request for more Griffith action, so there's some of that, and a little Harry action, too. Anyway, I hope you like it!
The rest of the school year seemed to pass by in a blur for Tracey. She continued to teach the first- through third-year students and steadily grew more confident in herself and her abilities. She had yet to successfully perform the Animagus transformation, but she at least was able to produce some part of her Animagus form. What was odd about was the fact that she never seemed to change size, which was puzzling. The only reason she and Professor McGonagall could come up with was that Tracey's Animagus form was roughly the same size as her human form. Alastor Moody had moved in with Poppy after their marriage and would often be seen tromping around the castle, magical eye spinning to keep watch. Occasionally, he would help Sarai with her classes and spoke with students who wished to become Aurors.
Several more attempts had been made on Albus' life, but the fact that he was rarely alone made it possible for him to survive each attack. Tracey wasn't so sure Albus was the sole target of the attacks anymore. The last one had seemed to be directed at both of them as they strolled around the Quidditch pitch together on the last day of Easter break. Xiomara and her brother had been up in the Quidditch stands at the time, chatting about this, that, and the other when a large Acromantula came charging out of the forest and right at father and daughter. Both dove out of the way, but neither was given a chance to draw their wands as a second Acromantula followed the first. Tracey could only do her best to dodge the Acromantula chasing her and hope someone would be able to stop it.
She would have escaped if her foot hadn't caught in a hole, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. She expected to be picked up any second when she heard a voice cry, "_Arania Exame_!" Hearing the spider make a noise as if in pain, Tracey rolled onto her side in time to see another jet of light hit the spider from above. Looking for the source, she spotted Griffith Hooch hovering on a broomstick nearby. "Tracey, go!"
"I can't!" she called back, feeling her ankle throb. "I think I twisted my ankle!"
As the spider, much weaker now, lumbered towards her, Tracey desperately scooted backwards on her bottom, uncaring if she got grass stains on her robes. Another jet from Griffith's wand sent the Acromantula tumbling back into the Forbidden Forest. Once the danger was past, Tracey promptly fainted.
When she came to, she was being carried to the castle by a pair of strong arms. "Father?"
"No, Tracey, it's Griffith." His voice was quiet and soothing, but she thought she detected worry in it. "Who's your father?"
"I can't tell you," she murmured, enjoying the feeling of Griffith's arms around her. "Where's Professor Dumbledore?"
"Right here, Tracey." Albus' voice sounded from behind Griffith.
She looked over Griffith's shoulder and spotted Xiomara helping the Headmaster along. He was favoring his right arm. "What happened to your arm, Father?"
"Tracey!" Xiomara exclaimed, yellow eyes wide.
"Oops." Tracey clapped her hand over her mouth, but Griffith had stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to look at Albus.
He looked from daughter to father and back again before shaking his head and turning to continue up to the hospital wing. "I should have guessed."
Albus chuckled. "I'm glad you're taking it so well, Griffith."
He shrugged, causing Tracey to latch her arms around his neck. "Well, she looks a lot like you when you had auburn hair, Sir. Your eyes are the same color and--"
"That's enough, Griffith," Xiomara cut her brother off as they climbed the front steps. "You've made your point."
Realizing she still had her arms around Griffith's neck, Tracey loosened her grip, feeling her cheeks grow extremely warm. "In answer to your question, Tracey, I landed wrong on my arm."
She nodded, trying desperately to get rid of the flames that had taken up residence in her cheeks. "Ro, would you mind opening the door? My hands are full."
"Not at all, Griffith." Xiomara moved around Griffith and pushed the oak front doors open.
"Thanks, Sis." Griffith smiled at his sister before slipping into the castle.
"You're welcome, Bro." Xiomara and Albus followed Griffith.
The rest of the trip to the hospital wing was made in silence. By the time they arrived, the heat in Tracey's cheeks had abated. "Griffith? Tracey? 'Mara? Albus?"
"Hi, Poppy," Tracey greeted the mediwitch sheepishly.
"What happened?" Poppy asked, even as she indicated for Griffith to set Tracey on one of the beds.
Without asking, Xiomara helped Albus to the next bed over and the Headmaster sat down as he explained what had happened to himself and Tracey. "Thank you, Xiomara and Griffith, for coming to our aid."
"Not at all, Dumbledore," Griffith answered cheerfully from where he was watching Poppy work on Tracey's ankle.
"No thanks are necessary, Headmaster," Xiomara added from where she stood at the foot of the bed upon which Albus sat.
In no time, both Tracey and her father had been healed. "Don't walk too much, Tracey. Albus, be careful with that arm."
Both nodded. "Thank you, Poppy."
"Thanks, Poppy."
* * *
Tracey didn't find out until later that Griffith had spoken to Alastor about her...
"Alastor, can I talk with you for a minute?" the younger man asked of his friend.
"Sure," Alastor let Griffith into the rooms he shared with Poppy and waved a scarred and calloused hand in the general direction of the sofa and armchairs. "Have a seat."
Griffith walked over and sank into one of the armchairs. When Alastor had settled himself onto the sofa, his wooden leg stretched out in front of him, Griffith spoke. "Did you know that Dumbledore is Tracey's father?"
"She told me the first time we met," Alastor replied with a nod. "Explained where she came from and everything."
Griffith frowned. "Why would she tell you, but not me?"
Alastor shrugged. "Well, you two _were_ mad at each other for a few days. I doubt she felt like confiding in you right away."
Griffith smiled ruefully. "I see your point, but I think she almost let it slip when I came here to confront her about the letters she'd written."
"What do you mean?" Alastor asked, curious.
"Well, I asked why she'd written the letters in the first place because, frankly, it wasn't really her business. She started to say 'Father' and then switched to 'Professor Dumbledore'." Griffith shook his head. "She's got quite a temper, that one."
Alastor chuckled. "So I've heard. Minerva says that Tracey has a natural talent for teaching and that she's quite adept at keeping students in line."
Griffith shrugged. "So, who's her mother? Not Minerva."
"Why not?" Alastor asked, surprised by the other man's confidence.
"Tracey is short and both Albus and Minerva are tall," Griffith explained. "The shape of Tracey's face doesn't match her father's, but it doesn't match Minerva's, either. Plus, Minerva calls Tracey 'Miss Cooper', while Albus calls her by her first name."
Alastor studied Griffith for a moment. "Have you been watching Tracey?" Strangely, Griffith's face turned red and he looked down at the floor. Alastor chuckled. "Tracey's mother was a Muggle Albus and Aberforth had grown up with. Albus married her and she gave birth to Tracey. Unfortunately, Tracey's mother died when she was young."
"How long ago was this?" Griffith asked.
"I'd say a little over 130 years ago," Alastor replied after a moment's thought.
Griffith stared. "She doesn't look a day over 16."
Alastor shrugged. "She's spent much of the past century in Muggle America. She somehow ended up drinking an Aging Potion that left her at the age of 20. It also muddled her memories, so the professors spent the summer helping her review what she needed to know."
"Why is she still here?" Griffith asked. "Wouldn't she be better off in Hogsmeade?"
"Albus has his reasons, I'm sure." Alastor's voice was firm, telling Griffith better than words that the subject was closed.
Griffith sighed and stood up. "Thanks for talking with me."
Alastor stood up as well and grasped his friend's hand tightly. "No problem, Griffith."
Nodding, the younger man turned and left, still puzzling over the mystery of where Tracey had come from.
* * *
The younger students had come to love having Tracey teach them. She made the classes fun and interesting, yet the students still learned. For his part, Harry rarely interacted with Tracey. As a sixth year, she didn't teach his classes and she didn't sit in on them anymore. When he passed her as he walked along a corridor, however, he was surprised when she stopped to speak with him. "How are you, Mr. Potter?"
"I'm fine, Professor," he replied, a little disconcerted to find himself looked down at her. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," she replied, seemingly unperturbed to have to look up, although she probably had to look up most of the time anyway. "How are your studies coming along?"
He really had no idea what to make of the situation. "Er, okay, I guess."
She raised an eyebrow at him, reminding him of Dumbledore and McGonagall. "Just okay?"
He shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it. I just try to get through each day without messing up or losing points."
She smiled at that. "Sounds like a good plan. How are your Potions classes?"
"Not the greatest, but Snape seems to have eased up," he admitted, making a face as he thought of the Head of Slytherin.
She chuckled. "He didn't like me much when I first arrived, but I think he's learned to keep things to himself."
He looked at her oddly, but she said nothing. "Er, okay, then. I gotta go now. It was nice talking with you." And it had! She had treated him like an equal, not a student.
"Alright, then. Be a good boy, Mr. Potter," she reached up and patted his shoulder. "Oh," she lowered her voice, glancing around, "don't forget to clear your mind before going to sleep at night." Winking, she turned and left with a swish of the pale blue robes she wore.
Scratching his head, Harry shrugged and continued on his way. That had been a rather bizarre encounter, but she wasn't that bad, actually.
* * *
"Minerva? Have you seen Tracey?" Albus asked her the next morning.
Minerva shook her head as she sat down. "I haven't seen her since dinner last night, though I found a note on my door, asking me to teach all of her classes today."
He nodded, beginning to serve himself. "No explanation as to why she wanted you to take them over?"
"None at all," she confirmed as she began serving herself as well. "Though it's not like Tracey to just leave a note."
Albus frowned, looking worried as he played with his food. "This does not bode well."
"No, it doesn't," Minerva agreed, not interested in her food for some reason. "Should I check on her before my first class of the day?"
He shook his head. "No, I'll check myself."
"Aunt Min?" Sarai's voice distracted Minerva.
Minerva turned to her niece. "Yes, Sarai?"
The younger woman looked curious. "What were you and Uncle Albus talking about?"
"When did you last see Tracey?" Minerva asked instead.
"Dinner last night," was the prompt reply. "Why?"
Minerva sighed. "Neither of us has seen Tracey since last night and she requested that I teach her classes today."
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked worried. "This is not good."
"No, it isn't," Minerva agreed.
They looked up as the owl post arrived. Minerva's eye was caught by an eagle owl that she had seen only once before. "Albus."
Albus followed her gaze. Soon, the entire staff watched as the bird swooped over to the staff table and dropped a scroll of parchment onto the table in front of Albus. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the scroll. The seal broke and the scroll unrolled itself. Minerva leaned over Albus' shoulder to read the message. It chilled her blood. _Your daughter is alive and well, for now. If you want her to remain that way, you will follow my instructions to the letter._ A list of instructions followed.
A look up at the Headmaster told Minerva all she needed to know. He spoke loud enough for the entire staff table to hear. "Everyone, in the staff room. Now."
* * *
The young woman in question woke to find herself in an unfamiliar room. When she tried to move, she realized she was chained up. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Ah, we're finally awake," the voice preceded the appearance of the woman Tracey had seen at the Masquerade Ball.
"You!" Tracey exclaimed, realizing afterwards just how clichéd that sounded.
"Yes, me," the woman replied haughtily, hatred and malice turning her beautiful face ugly. "You have ruined my plans for the last time, witch!"
Tracey glared at the woman with all the anger she could manage, despite being clad only in a simple nightgown with her wand nowhere in sight. "I was only trying to keep my father alive!"
"Yes, yes." The woman waved Tracey's assertion off with a negligent wave of her hand. "Well, your father should be receiving my note anytime now."
"What note?" Tracey asked suspiciously.
The woman widened her eyes innocently, but the smirk on her lips ruined the effect. "The note telling him that I have his beloved daughter and, if he wants her back, he needs to come to me."
"No!" Tracey lunged towards the woman, but the chains at her wrists and ankles held her back and the woman laughed at Tracey's futile attempts to get to her.
"It's no use, Little One. Those chains will hold until I say so and not before."
Tracey made a growl of frustration in her throat. "So help me, if I get free, I'll kill you!"
The woman's laugh was chilling. "You're too much of a goody-two-shoes to do that, Little One!"
"Stop calling me that!" Tracey practically snarled, feeling very feral.
"Little One! Little One!" the woman chanted.
Tracey felt her blood begin to boil. A voice suddenly sounded in her head, reminding her of Griffith. _You'll only be playing into your enemy's hands if you let your temper get the best of you._ Nodding, Tracey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She would not lose her temper.
* * *
"What is it, Uncle?" Sarai asked, the moment all of the staff was gathered in the staff room.
"Tracey has been kidnapped," he announced with preamble. "I've been given instructions to rescue her. I will follow them."
"No, Albus!" Minerva exclaimed. "You'll be playing into their hands!"
"What would you have me do, Minerva?" he asked her quietly. "Leave Tracey to be killed, or worse?"
Minerva winced. Though Albus had not raised his voice, he might as well have. "I'm sorry, Albus."
"She's right, though, Albus," Alastor volunteered from where he sat beside his wife. "You'll be walkin' into a trap if you go in alone."
Albus smile was without warmth. "That's why I would like two of you to follow after one hour."
"An hour?" Minerva asked, feeling her heart clench inside of her. "Why not half an hour?"
"It may not take me long to find Tracey and get out of there," Albus explained quietly. "If it takes me longer than an hour to get to her, I will feel safer knowing there will be two of you coming along after you." Utter silence reigned for several moments before a clamor of voices shouted that they would follow. Albus held up his hands for silence. "Thank you for your support, but I ask that Minerva and Severus be the two to follow."
"As if you need to ask, Albus," she retorted tartly.
Severus bowed his head. "You've done much for me. It's the least I can do to pay you back."
"Thank you, both of you." Minerva's heart ached to see Albus look so worried. "Now, I won't be leaving until after lunch. Go teach your classes."
The staff trickled out of the room until only four remained. "Albus, I hope you know what you're doing."
"I hope so, too, Minerva." He smiled tiredly at his Deputy. "If anything should happen to me, you know what to do."
She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. "Headmaster, let me go with you."
"No, Severus," Albus shook his head. "My instructions clearly indicate that I need to be alone when I come, or I will be endangering Tracey's life."
"What about Tabby?" Sarai asked quietly from where she stood beside her aunt.
Albus shook his head again. "No companions of any sort, whether human or otherwise."
Sarai shrugged. "It was worth a shot."
"Yes, and I thank you for the suggestion, Sarai." Albus' smile was strained, to say the least.
Minerva, Severus, and Sarai watched as the Headmaster left the room. "I don't like seeing him like this."
"Neither do I, Sarai," Minerva agreed as Severus nodded to the two witches and left. "Neither do I."
Together, they left the staff room.
* * *
Albus gazed up at the castle thoughtfully. It looked like nothing more than the type of castle one would expect to find, but he knew that his daughter was somewhere inside. Squaring his shoulders, he entered the castle.
* * *
"Ah, good, he's on his way." She smirked at Tracey. "I knew he would come after you."
"You evil bitch," Tracey spat, forgetting to keep calm.
"Yes, well, I can't have you distracting him, so why don't you go beddy- bye?" the woman suggested. "_Stupefy!_"
Chapter Fifteen - Skimming
A/N: Whew! Here's the next chapter. I received a request for more Griffith action, so there's some of that, and a little Harry action, too. Anyway, I hope you like it!
The rest of the school year seemed to pass by in a blur for Tracey. She continued to teach the first- through third-year students and steadily grew more confident in herself and her abilities. She had yet to successfully perform the Animagus transformation, but she at least was able to produce some part of her Animagus form. What was odd about was the fact that she never seemed to change size, which was puzzling. The only reason she and Professor McGonagall could come up with was that Tracey's Animagus form was roughly the same size as her human form. Alastor Moody had moved in with Poppy after their marriage and would often be seen tromping around the castle, magical eye spinning to keep watch. Occasionally, he would help Sarai with her classes and spoke with students who wished to become Aurors.
Several more attempts had been made on Albus' life, but the fact that he was rarely alone made it possible for him to survive each attack. Tracey wasn't so sure Albus was the sole target of the attacks anymore. The last one had seemed to be directed at both of them as they strolled around the Quidditch pitch together on the last day of Easter break. Xiomara and her brother had been up in the Quidditch stands at the time, chatting about this, that, and the other when a large Acromantula came charging out of the forest and right at father and daughter. Both dove out of the way, but neither was given a chance to draw their wands as a second Acromantula followed the first. Tracey could only do her best to dodge the Acromantula chasing her and hope someone would be able to stop it.
She would have escaped if her foot hadn't caught in a hole, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. She expected to be picked up any second when she heard a voice cry, "_Arania Exame_!" Hearing the spider make a noise as if in pain, Tracey rolled onto her side in time to see another jet of light hit the spider from above. Looking for the source, she spotted Griffith Hooch hovering on a broomstick nearby. "Tracey, go!"
"I can't!" she called back, feeling her ankle throb. "I think I twisted my ankle!"
As the spider, much weaker now, lumbered towards her, Tracey desperately scooted backwards on her bottom, uncaring if she got grass stains on her robes. Another jet from Griffith's wand sent the Acromantula tumbling back into the Forbidden Forest. Once the danger was past, Tracey promptly fainted.
When she came to, she was being carried to the castle by a pair of strong arms. "Father?"
"No, Tracey, it's Griffith." His voice was quiet and soothing, but she thought she detected worry in it. "Who's your father?"
"I can't tell you," she murmured, enjoying the feeling of Griffith's arms around her. "Where's Professor Dumbledore?"
"Right here, Tracey." Albus' voice sounded from behind Griffith.
She looked over Griffith's shoulder and spotted Xiomara helping the Headmaster along. He was favoring his right arm. "What happened to your arm, Father?"
"Tracey!" Xiomara exclaimed, yellow eyes wide.
"Oops." Tracey clapped her hand over her mouth, but Griffith had stopped in his tracks and slowly turned to look at Albus.
He looked from daughter to father and back again before shaking his head and turning to continue up to the hospital wing. "I should have guessed."
Albus chuckled. "I'm glad you're taking it so well, Griffith."
He shrugged, causing Tracey to latch her arms around his neck. "Well, she looks a lot like you when you had auburn hair, Sir. Your eyes are the same color and--"
"That's enough, Griffith," Xiomara cut her brother off as they climbed the front steps. "You've made your point."
Realizing she still had her arms around Griffith's neck, Tracey loosened her grip, feeling her cheeks grow extremely warm. "In answer to your question, Tracey, I landed wrong on my arm."
She nodded, trying desperately to get rid of the flames that had taken up residence in her cheeks. "Ro, would you mind opening the door? My hands are full."
"Not at all, Griffith." Xiomara moved around Griffith and pushed the oak front doors open.
"Thanks, Sis." Griffith smiled at his sister before slipping into the castle.
"You're welcome, Bro." Xiomara and Albus followed Griffith.
The rest of the trip to the hospital wing was made in silence. By the time they arrived, the heat in Tracey's cheeks had abated. "Griffith? Tracey? 'Mara? Albus?"
"Hi, Poppy," Tracey greeted the mediwitch sheepishly.
"What happened?" Poppy asked, even as she indicated for Griffith to set Tracey on one of the beds.
Without asking, Xiomara helped Albus to the next bed over and the Headmaster sat down as he explained what had happened to himself and Tracey. "Thank you, Xiomara and Griffith, for coming to our aid."
"Not at all, Dumbledore," Griffith answered cheerfully from where he was watching Poppy work on Tracey's ankle.
"No thanks are necessary, Headmaster," Xiomara added from where she stood at the foot of the bed upon which Albus sat.
In no time, both Tracey and her father had been healed. "Don't walk too much, Tracey. Albus, be careful with that arm."
Both nodded. "Thank you, Poppy."
"Thanks, Poppy."
* * *
Tracey didn't find out until later that Griffith had spoken to Alastor about her...
"Alastor, can I talk with you for a minute?" the younger man asked of his friend.
"Sure," Alastor let Griffith into the rooms he shared with Poppy and waved a scarred and calloused hand in the general direction of the sofa and armchairs. "Have a seat."
Griffith walked over and sank into one of the armchairs. When Alastor had settled himself onto the sofa, his wooden leg stretched out in front of him, Griffith spoke. "Did you know that Dumbledore is Tracey's father?"
"She told me the first time we met," Alastor replied with a nod. "Explained where she came from and everything."
Griffith frowned. "Why would she tell you, but not me?"
Alastor shrugged. "Well, you two _were_ mad at each other for a few days. I doubt she felt like confiding in you right away."
Griffith smiled ruefully. "I see your point, but I think she almost let it slip when I came here to confront her about the letters she'd written."
"What do you mean?" Alastor asked, curious.
"Well, I asked why she'd written the letters in the first place because, frankly, it wasn't really her business. She started to say 'Father' and then switched to 'Professor Dumbledore'." Griffith shook his head. "She's got quite a temper, that one."
Alastor chuckled. "So I've heard. Minerva says that Tracey has a natural talent for teaching and that she's quite adept at keeping students in line."
Griffith shrugged. "So, who's her mother? Not Minerva."
"Why not?" Alastor asked, surprised by the other man's confidence.
"Tracey is short and both Albus and Minerva are tall," Griffith explained. "The shape of Tracey's face doesn't match her father's, but it doesn't match Minerva's, either. Plus, Minerva calls Tracey 'Miss Cooper', while Albus calls her by her first name."
Alastor studied Griffith for a moment. "Have you been watching Tracey?" Strangely, Griffith's face turned red and he looked down at the floor. Alastor chuckled. "Tracey's mother was a Muggle Albus and Aberforth had grown up with. Albus married her and she gave birth to Tracey. Unfortunately, Tracey's mother died when she was young."
"How long ago was this?" Griffith asked.
"I'd say a little over 130 years ago," Alastor replied after a moment's thought.
Griffith stared. "She doesn't look a day over 16."
Alastor shrugged. "She's spent much of the past century in Muggle America. She somehow ended up drinking an Aging Potion that left her at the age of 20. It also muddled her memories, so the professors spent the summer helping her review what she needed to know."
"Why is she still here?" Griffith asked. "Wouldn't she be better off in Hogsmeade?"
"Albus has his reasons, I'm sure." Alastor's voice was firm, telling Griffith better than words that the subject was closed.
Griffith sighed and stood up. "Thanks for talking with me."
Alastor stood up as well and grasped his friend's hand tightly. "No problem, Griffith."
Nodding, the younger man turned and left, still puzzling over the mystery of where Tracey had come from.
* * *
The younger students had come to love having Tracey teach them. She made the classes fun and interesting, yet the students still learned. For his part, Harry rarely interacted with Tracey. As a sixth year, she didn't teach his classes and she didn't sit in on them anymore. When he passed her as he walked along a corridor, however, he was surprised when she stopped to speak with him. "How are you, Mr. Potter?"
"I'm fine, Professor," he replied, a little disconcerted to find himself looked down at her. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," she replied, seemingly unperturbed to have to look up, although she probably had to look up most of the time anyway. "How are your studies coming along?"
He really had no idea what to make of the situation. "Er, okay, I guess."
She raised an eyebrow at him, reminding him of Dumbledore and McGonagall. "Just okay?"
He shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it. I just try to get through each day without messing up or losing points."
She smiled at that. "Sounds like a good plan. How are your Potions classes?"
"Not the greatest, but Snape seems to have eased up," he admitted, making a face as he thought of the Head of Slytherin.
She chuckled. "He didn't like me much when I first arrived, but I think he's learned to keep things to himself."
He looked at her oddly, but she said nothing. "Er, okay, then. I gotta go now. It was nice talking with you." And it had! She had treated him like an equal, not a student.
"Alright, then. Be a good boy, Mr. Potter," she reached up and patted his shoulder. "Oh," she lowered her voice, glancing around, "don't forget to clear your mind before going to sleep at night." Winking, she turned and left with a swish of the pale blue robes she wore.
Scratching his head, Harry shrugged and continued on his way. That had been a rather bizarre encounter, but she wasn't that bad, actually.
* * *
"Minerva? Have you seen Tracey?" Albus asked her the next morning.
Minerva shook her head as she sat down. "I haven't seen her since dinner last night, though I found a note on my door, asking me to teach all of her classes today."
He nodded, beginning to serve himself. "No explanation as to why she wanted you to take them over?"
"None at all," she confirmed as she began serving herself as well. "Though it's not like Tracey to just leave a note."
Albus frowned, looking worried as he played with his food. "This does not bode well."
"No, it doesn't," Minerva agreed, not interested in her food for some reason. "Should I check on her before my first class of the day?"
He shook his head. "No, I'll check myself."
"Aunt Min?" Sarai's voice distracted Minerva.
Minerva turned to her niece. "Yes, Sarai?"
The younger woman looked curious. "What were you and Uncle Albus talking about?"
"When did you last see Tracey?" Minerva asked instead.
"Dinner last night," was the prompt reply. "Why?"
Minerva sighed. "Neither of us has seen Tracey since last night and she requested that I teach her classes today."
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked worried. "This is not good."
"No, it isn't," Minerva agreed.
They looked up as the owl post arrived. Minerva's eye was caught by an eagle owl that she had seen only once before. "Albus."
Albus followed her gaze. Soon, the entire staff watched as the bird swooped over to the staff table and dropped a scroll of parchment onto the table in front of Albus. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the scroll. The seal broke and the scroll unrolled itself. Minerva leaned over Albus' shoulder to read the message. It chilled her blood. _Your daughter is alive and well, for now. If you want her to remain that way, you will follow my instructions to the letter._ A list of instructions followed.
A look up at the Headmaster told Minerva all she needed to know. He spoke loud enough for the entire staff table to hear. "Everyone, in the staff room. Now."
* * *
The young woman in question woke to find herself in an unfamiliar room. When she tried to move, she realized she was chained up. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Ah, we're finally awake," the voice preceded the appearance of the woman Tracey had seen at the Masquerade Ball.
"You!" Tracey exclaimed, realizing afterwards just how clichéd that sounded.
"Yes, me," the woman replied haughtily, hatred and malice turning her beautiful face ugly. "You have ruined my plans for the last time, witch!"
Tracey glared at the woman with all the anger she could manage, despite being clad only in a simple nightgown with her wand nowhere in sight. "I was only trying to keep my father alive!"
"Yes, yes." The woman waved Tracey's assertion off with a negligent wave of her hand. "Well, your father should be receiving my note anytime now."
"What note?" Tracey asked suspiciously.
The woman widened her eyes innocently, but the smirk on her lips ruined the effect. "The note telling him that I have his beloved daughter and, if he wants her back, he needs to come to me."
"No!" Tracey lunged towards the woman, but the chains at her wrists and ankles held her back and the woman laughed at Tracey's futile attempts to get to her.
"It's no use, Little One. Those chains will hold until I say so and not before."
Tracey made a growl of frustration in her throat. "So help me, if I get free, I'll kill you!"
The woman's laugh was chilling. "You're too much of a goody-two-shoes to do that, Little One!"
"Stop calling me that!" Tracey practically snarled, feeling very feral.
"Little One! Little One!" the woman chanted.
Tracey felt her blood begin to boil. A voice suddenly sounded in her head, reminding her of Griffith. _You'll only be playing into your enemy's hands if you let your temper get the best of you._ Nodding, Tracey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She would not lose her temper.
* * *
"What is it, Uncle?" Sarai asked, the moment all of the staff was gathered in the staff room.
"Tracey has been kidnapped," he announced with preamble. "I've been given instructions to rescue her. I will follow them."
"No, Albus!" Minerva exclaimed. "You'll be playing into their hands!"
"What would you have me do, Minerva?" he asked her quietly. "Leave Tracey to be killed, or worse?"
Minerva winced. Though Albus had not raised his voice, he might as well have. "I'm sorry, Albus."
"She's right, though, Albus," Alastor volunteered from where he sat beside his wife. "You'll be walkin' into a trap if you go in alone."
Albus smile was without warmth. "That's why I would like two of you to follow after one hour."
"An hour?" Minerva asked, feeling her heart clench inside of her. "Why not half an hour?"
"It may not take me long to find Tracey and get out of there," Albus explained quietly. "If it takes me longer than an hour to get to her, I will feel safer knowing there will be two of you coming along after you." Utter silence reigned for several moments before a clamor of voices shouted that they would follow. Albus held up his hands for silence. "Thank you for your support, but I ask that Minerva and Severus be the two to follow."
"As if you need to ask, Albus," she retorted tartly.
Severus bowed his head. "You've done much for me. It's the least I can do to pay you back."
"Thank you, both of you." Minerva's heart ached to see Albus look so worried. "Now, I won't be leaving until after lunch. Go teach your classes."
The staff trickled out of the room until only four remained. "Albus, I hope you know what you're doing."
"I hope so, too, Minerva." He smiled tiredly at his Deputy. "If anything should happen to me, you know what to do."
She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. "Headmaster, let me go with you."
"No, Severus," Albus shook his head. "My instructions clearly indicate that I need to be alone when I come, or I will be endangering Tracey's life."
"What about Tabby?" Sarai asked quietly from where she stood beside her aunt.
Albus shook his head again. "No companions of any sort, whether human or otherwise."
Sarai shrugged. "It was worth a shot."
"Yes, and I thank you for the suggestion, Sarai." Albus' smile was strained, to say the least.
Minerva, Severus, and Sarai watched as the Headmaster left the room. "I don't like seeing him like this."
"Neither do I, Sarai," Minerva agreed as Severus nodded to the two witches and left. "Neither do I."
Together, they left the staff room.
* * *
Albus gazed up at the castle thoughtfully. It looked like nothing more than the type of castle one would expect to find, but he knew that his daughter was somewhere inside. Squaring his shoulders, he entered the castle.
* * *
"Ah, good, he's on his way." She smirked at Tracey. "I knew he would come after you."
"You evil bitch," Tracey spat, forgetting to keep calm.
"Yes, well, I can't have you distracting him, so why don't you go beddy- bye?" the woman suggested. "_Stupefy!_"