Chapter six: The Man With No Face
I wandered down Charad street, wand ready this time. Perhaps it was the fact that the sky was still dark due to the early hour, but I was not as fearful now as I had been on my previous journeys. Curiosity about this place coupled with confusion about the events at the ministry caused me to take each step in stride so that I arrived at Oswald manner more quickly then I had anticipated.
The small Cherubims giggled softly above me as I reached the porch steps. As I proceeded to walk to the door one of the cherubim called down to me: 'looks like some one's beaten you to it this time!' I stopped, slightly startled.
'What do you mean?' I asked sharply staring up at the two devilishly angelic faces. At this question however the gilded creatures only began giggling more loudly than before.
I finished my climb up the stairs and walked slowly to the knocker on the front door. Before I could lift it however, I heard a voice, apparently deep in conversation coming from behind the door. I could not mistake it for any one other than Celia. However, I could not imagine with whom she could possibly be speaking in the front room. Her sister was, after all, bed ridden. And she had said herself that very few, if any visitors ever came to the manner.
In spite of myself I leaned closer to the door attempting to listen to the discussion.
'I'm sorry but I could never do such a thing. He has been far too good to me.'
Though she spoke softly and hesitantly I could make out these words. I barely had time to wonder at them when another voice answered her. It was, to my surprise, the voice of a man. A rather peculiar sensation raced to the pit of my stomach as he spoke.
' Open your eyes Celia. Do you think he will keep his promise now that there is so much fear?' It was after he said this that I noticed something very familiar in this man's voice. I had heard it before. If only I could remember where.
'But he knows I would never betray him.' Celia said defensively. Her voice was still very small.
'Do you think that matters? He acts only in his self interest. Once the truth is out, he will abandon you.'
'That's not true' Celia spoke more loudly this time.
'You know it is.' The man was in contrast quieter. 'How long has it been since he has even spoken to you?'
Celia did not answer.
'His own skin matters more to him than-' He broke off very suddenly. And, I could hear the unmistakable crack of someone disapparating from inside the house. I looked off into the wood behind the house I could barely see through the trees that the dawn was beginning to break.
Hesitantly I took up the knocker on the door and lifted it. The scream filled the space around me once again. The door opened only slightly and I could see the grey of Celia's eyes as she looked out hesitantly.
When she saw me however, she let out a small sigh of relief and opened the door wider.
'Percy. What are you doing here so early?' She asked. She was smiling, but she still seemed overtly flustered.
' The minister asked me to deliver this as soon as possible.' I said coldly handing her the cauldron. I could not explain why, but as I listened to the conversation at the door I had felt a still pang of what might be called jealousy, the remnant of which was still with me. Celia appeared not to have noticed, she was still smiling as she took the cauldron.
'Please come in.' I stayed rooted to the front porch.
'Who was that you were talking to?' I asked quickly, surprising even myself.
'Oh,' She said attempting and failing to seem unphased by this. 'An opponent of my Father's. They come here every once in a while trying to get some dirt on him. You see my father is rather powerful, many people hate him because of it.'
Not completely satisfied with this answer but not daring to question further, I stepped into the house. Celia closed the door behind me.
Her mother's portrait still hung on the wall opposite the moth eaten couch and scathed coffee table. Though I noticed that the cushions on the couch were sunken as if newly sat in. The slight pang returned to my stomach.
'Does he live in London, your Father?' I asked her as we entered the kitchen where two cups and a teakettle had been set out on the card table.
'No.' She answered simply as she poured tea from the kettle into a cup which she handed to me. I took my seat on the end of the table.
'He lives quite far away. Since I turned seventeen he's traveled several places, leaving me to look after Alieanna. I believe he was living in Ireland the last I heard from him.' She took a cup for herself and sat down opposite me. I noticed the smile had been replaced by a wistful, almost sad look. She sipped her tea and seemed to come to herself as she began to smile again. 'And what about your family?' She asked conversationally.
'I don't have one.' I was far too taken back by this question to think of a better answer.
Celia set down her cup and gave a slight laugh.
'Well that's impossible! I mean to say, you must have had a family at some point.'
Perhaps it was something in her laugh or the fact that a very small amount of guilt had begun to settle in about the subject since I discovered the return of You-know-who, but I soon found myself however inadvertently unleashing the entire story. How my parents had abandoned the ministry in favor of Dumbledore, about my promotion and the night I left home, I even told her about how I had written to my brother after he had become a prefect, and the jumper I had sent back at Christmas. Nearly every detail of what had happened since the previous summer came tumbling out. Celia stayed silent, her eyes fixed on me through my entire story. Even when I told her of how I had discovered the return of He-who -must-not-be-named, she gave no indication of shock or even fear. It was as if she already knew.
'So, you haven't spoken to your father in a year?' She asked once I had finished.
'No, I suppose not.' I answered somewhat bitterly.
' Of course the estrangement was not my fault. I have always been more than willing to welcome an apology from my father at any time. It is in fact, he that refused to approach me.' I said, speaking as if in my own defense at a trial. The guilty knot in my stomach was beginning to grow, but I was still defiant. I would not admit that my parents had been right for the past twelve months. After all, as the minister said, we weren't sure of anything yet.
'And now?' She asked
'I don't know.' I answered truthfully
'hmm.' Celia said as she took another sip of her tea.
'And what is that supposed to mean?' I asked more sharply than I had anticipated.
'Nothing.' She answered with a slightly apologetic tone. 'I'm just not sure that I would be able to make such a decision. To go against an entire family.'
This statement did not help the seed of shame that was steadily growing larger. It must have shown on my face because she added hastily.
'Not that I blame you in the slightest. As you said it wasn't your fault, you were simply doing what you thought was best.' For the first time in the past thirty minuets, she took her eyes away from mine and began to stare fixedly at the tablecloth.
'I've noticed you have a lovely wood in the back of the manner.' I said attempting to make light conversation after an akward pause.
'Thank you. But it's not a wood, it's a garden.' She said quickly. Her smile returning apparently as glad as I was to leave the subject of families.
'Really? I didn't notice a wall.' I commented. It was true, I had always thought the area to be open to the muggle street on the other side.
'I'm afraid the vines have begun to cover it, but it's still there.' She said 'Come with me I'll show you.'
She got up from the table and led the way to a hallway just outside the side door of the kitchen. This long hallway quickly explained why the house appeared so large from the front. For, no doubt half of the area of the mansion was taken up in the length of this long narrow passage way. Finally we reached a small white door at the end of the corridor.
Celia reached above the door and pulled a small key from the railing. She placed it inside the lock and eventually opened the door to what looked like a dark jungle.
If this was a garden, it was like no garden I had ever seen before. Darkness from the large leafs of the trees growing over the stones of what could only barely be called a walkway covered most of the area. Vines grew indelibly in every direction yet I could still see no sign of a wall.
'It fell into disrepair, after the street was evacuated. I'm afraid I haven't had time to tend to it- here, it's just behind this vine.' Celia said leading the way along the moss covered stones through a sea of fallen leaves to a large clump of vines that met with the large leafs of the trees. She stepped forward and gently pulled back at the leaves of the vine. It was several minuets before all the green was cleared away to reveal a piece of a golden stoned garden wall.
Behind the vines, the gold seemed ageless. Indeed, it sparkled as if it had been touched brightly by the sun despite the darkness that surrounded it.
'Quite amazing isn't it?' Celia said proudly
'Father put a charm on it when we first bought the manner. It'll stay that way forever.'
'It's beautiful.' I said. Still slightly awe struck. She smiled broadly at me apparently pleased with my reaction. I stared for a few more seconds at the gold for a few more seconds before I noticed a small chip in the golden plated brick of the wall accompanied by several miniscule, white scratches.
Automatically my hand reached to touch it, as if I didn't dare to believe that such a perfect wall could carry the slightest flaw.
As I reached for the area however, I felt Celia tug my hand back. There was an odd look of fear on her face as she too stared at the block while still holding my hand tightly in her own, which I now realized was shaking.
'Celia? What is it?' She stared back at me for a moment, then looked down at the grass attempting to collect herself.
'Of course it's not perfect.' She said, with a false air of non chalantness as if nothing had happened. 'The vines still make scratches. After all, they've been there for so many years-'
At that moment, a faint crash was heard from an upstairs window of the mansion.
'Alieanna will be needing her medicine.' Celia said. She was still very visibly flustered.
'I'll show you to the door.' I followed her, perplexed as we walked the trough the long passage way, to the kitchen. Now I was certain things were not all that they seemed to be at Oswald manner. The man's voice, the garden wall, the monthly potion, all tied together some how, but the more I thought of it the more disconnected everything seemed to be. Who did that voice really belong to? Why was the seemingly ageless garden wall scratched, and why had it been hidden in the first place? All these questions ran silently through my mind as I followed Celia through the kitchen and to the front door. But, there was one question that particularly stood out in my mind. A question that I had been wondering about since the night of the boggart incident.
Celia opened the front door more hesitantly than she had in the past.
'Thank you again Percy' She said, once again putting on her polite air.
'Celia?' I asked 'Yes' She answered rather quickly smiling once again. 'What is it you're afraid of?' I asked in a moment of boldness.
This apparently was not the question she had been expecting. Her face fell as the smile faded slightly from her lips. But she soon recovered herself and answered in a direct straight forward tone:
'Nothing'
I wandered down Charad street, wand ready this time. Perhaps it was the fact that the sky was still dark due to the early hour, but I was not as fearful now as I had been on my previous journeys. Curiosity about this place coupled with confusion about the events at the ministry caused me to take each step in stride so that I arrived at Oswald manner more quickly then I had anticipated.
The small Cherubims giggled softly above me as I reached the porch steps. As I proceeded to walk to the door one of the cherubim called down to me: 'looks like some one's beaten you to it this time!' I stopped, slightly startled.
'What do you mean?' I asked sharply staring up at the two devilishly angelic faces. At this question however the gilded creatures only began giggling more loudly than before.
I finished my climb up the stairs and walked slowly to the knocker on the front door. Before I could lift it however, I heard a voice, apparently deep in conversation coming from behind the door. I could not mistake it for any one other than Celia. However, I could not imagine with whom she could possibly be speaking in the front room. Her sister was, after all, bed ridden. And she had said herself that very few, if any visitors ever came to the manner.
In spite of myself I leaned closer to the door attempting to listen to the discussion.
'I'm sorry but I could never do such a thing. He has been far too good to me.'
Though she spoke softly and hesitantly I could make out these words. I barely had time to wonder at them when another voice answered her. It was, to my surprise, the voice of a man. A rather peculiar sensation raced to the pit of my stomach as he spoke.
' Open your eyes Celia. Do you think he will keep his promise now that there is so much fear?' It was after he said this that I noticed something very familiar in this man's voice. I had heard it before. If only I could remember where.
'But he knows I would never betray him.' Celia said defensively. Her voice was still very small.
'Do you think that matters? He acts only in his self interest. Once the truth is out, he will abandon you.'
'That's not true' Celia spoke more loudly this time.
'You know it is.' The man was in contrast quieter. 'How long has it been since he has even spoken to you?'
Celia did not answer.
'His own skin matters more to him than-' He broke off very suddenly. And, I could hear the unmistakable crack of someone disapparating from inside the house. I looked off into the wood behind the house I could barely see through the trees that the dawn was beginning to break.
Hesitantly I took up the knocker on the door and lifted it. The scream filled the space around me once again. The door opened only slightly and I could see the grey of Celia's eyes as she looked out hesitantly.
When she saw me however, she let out a small sigh of relief and opened the door wider.
'Percy. What are you doing here so early?' She asked. She was smiling, but she still seemed overtly flustered.
' The minister asked me to deliver this as soon as possible.' I said coldly handing her the cauldron. I could not explain why, but as I listened to the conversation at the door I had felt a still pang of what might be called jealousy, the remnant of which was still with me. Celia appeared not to have noticed, she was still smiling as she took the cauldron.
'Please come in.' I stayed rooted to the front porch.
'Who was that you were talking to?' I asked quickly, surprising even myself.
'Oh,' She said attempting and failing to seem unphased by this. 'An opponent of my Father's. They come here every once in a while trying to get some dirt on him. You see my father is rather powerful, many people hate him because of it.'
Not completely satisfied with this answer but not daring to question further, I stepped into the house. Celia closed the door behind me.
Her mother's portrait still hung on the wall opposite the moth eaten couch and scathed coffee table. Though I noticed that the cushions on the couch were sunken as if newly sat in. The slight pang returned to my stomach.
'Does he live in London, your Father?' I asked her as we entered the kitchen where two cups and a teakettle had been set out on the card table.
'No.' She answered simply as she poured tea from the kettle into a cup which she handed to me. I took my seat on the end of the table.
'He lives quite far away. Since I turned seventeen he's traveled several places, leaving me to look after Alieanna. I believe he was living in Ireland the last I heard from him.' She took a cup for herself and sat down opposite me. I noticed the smile had been replaced by a wistful, almost sad look. She sipped her tea and seemed to come to herself as she began to smile again. 'And what about your family?' She asked conversationally.
'I don't have one.' I was far too taken back by this question to think of a better answer.
Celia set down her cup and gave a slight laugh.
'Well that's impossible! I mean to say, you must have had a family at some point.'
Perhaps it was something in her laugh or the fact that a very small amount of guilt had begun to settle in about the subject since I discovered the return of You-know-who, but I soon found myself however inadvertently unleashing the entire story. How my parents had abandoned the ministry in favor of Dumbledore, about my promotion and the night I left home, I even told her about how I had written to my brother after he had become a prefect, and the jumper I had sent back at Christmas. Nearly every detail of what had happened since the previous summer came tumbling out. Celia stayed silent, her eyes fixed on me through my entire story. Even when I told her of how I had discovered the return of He-who -must-not-be-named, she gave no indication of shock or even fear. It was as if she already knew.
'So, you haven't spoken to your father in a year?' She asked once I had finished.
'No, I suppose not.' I answered somewhat bitterly.
' Of course the estrangement was not my fault. I have always been more than willing to welcome an apology from my father at any time. It is in fact, he that refused to approach me.' I said, speaking as if in my own defense at a trial. The guilty knot in my stomach was beginning to grow, but I was still defiant. I would not admit that my parents had been right for the past twelve months. After all, as the minister said, we weren't sure of anything yet.
'And now?' She asked
'I don't know.' I answered truthfully
'hmm.' Celia said as she took another sip of her tea.
'And what is that supposed to mean?' I asked more sharply than I had anticipated.
'Nothing.' She answered with a slightly apologetic tone. 'I'm just not sure that I would be able to make such a decision. To go against an entire family.'
This statement did not help the seed of shame that was steadily growing larger. It must have shown on my face because she added hastily.
'Not that I blame you in the slightest. As you said it wasn't your fault, you were simply doing what you thought was best.' For the first time in the past thirty minuets, she took her eyes away from mine and began to stare fixedly at the tablecloth.
'I've noticed you have a lovely wood in the back of the manner.' I said attempting to make light conversation after an akward pause.
'Thank you. But it's not a wood, it's a garden.' She said quickly. Her smile returning apparently as glad as I was to leave the subject of families.
'Really? I didn't notice a wall.' I commented. It was true, I had always thought the area to be open to the muggle street on the other side.
'I'm afraid the vines have begun to cover it, but it's still there.' She said 'Come with me I'll show you.'
She got up from the table and led the way to a hallway just outside the side door of the kitchen. This long hallway quickly explained why the house appeared so large from the front. For, no doubt half of the area of the mansion was taken up in the length of this long narrow passage way. Finally we reached a small white door at the end of the corridor.
Celia reached above the door and pulled a small key from the railing. She placed it inside the lock and eventually opened the door to what looked like a dark jungle.
If this was a garden, it was like no garden I had ever seen before. Darkness from the large leafs of the trees growing over the stones of what could only barely be called a walkway covered most of the area. Vines grew indelibly in every direction yet I could still see no sign of a wall.
'It fell into disrepair, after the street was evacuated. I'm afraid I haven't had time to tend to it- here, it's just behind this vine.' Celia said leading the way along the moss covered stones through a sea of fallen leaves to a large clump of vines that met with the large leafs of the trees. She stepped forward and gently pulled back at the leaves of the vine. It was several minuets before all the green was cleared away to reveal a piece of a golden stoned garden wall.
Behind the vines, the gold seemed ageless. Indeed, it sparkled as if it had been touched brightly by the sun despite the darkness that surrounded it.
'Quite amazing isn't it?' Celia said proudly
'Father put a charm on it when we first bought the manner. It'll stay that way forever.'
'It's beautiful.' I said. Still slightly awe struck. She smiled broadly at me apparently pleased with my reaction. I stared for a few more seconds at the gold for a few more seconds before I noticed a small chip in the golden plated brick of the wall accompanied by several miniscule, white scratches.
Automatically my hand reached to touch it, as if I didn't dare to believe that such a perfect wall could carry the slightest flaw.
As I reached for the area however, I felt Celia tug my hand back. There was an odd look of fear on her face as she too stared at the block while still holding my hand tightly in her own, which I now realized was shaking.
'Celia? What is it?' She stared back at me for a moment, then looked down at the grass attempting to collect herself.
'Of course it's not perfect.' She said, with a false air of non chalantness as if nothing had happened. 'The vines still make scratches. After all, they've been there for so many years-'
At that moment, a faint crash was heard from an upstairs window of the mansion.
'Alieanna will be needing her medicine.' Celia said. She was still very visibly flustered.
'I'll show you to the door.' I followed her, perplexed as we walked the trough the long passage way, to the kitchen. Now I was certain things were not all that they seemed to be at Oswald manner. The man's voice, the garden wall, the monthly potion, all tied together some how, but the more I thought of it the more disconnected everything seemed to be. Who did that voice really belong to? Why was the seemingly ageless garden wall scratched, and why had it been hidden in the first place? All these questions ran silently through my mind as I followed Celia through the kitchen and to the front door. But, there was one question that particularly stood out in my mind. A question that I had been wondering about since the night of the boggart incident.
Celia opened the front door more hesitantly than she had in the past.
'Thank you again Percy' She said, once again putting on her polite air.
'Celia?' I asked 'Yes' She answered rather quickly smiling once again. 'What is it you're afraid of?' I asked in a moment of boldness.
This apparently was not the question she had been expecting. Her face fell as the smile faded slightly from her lips. But she soon recovered herself and answered in a direct straight forward tone:
'Nothing'
