Disclaimer: I've been bad about putting these up. I'm not J.K Rowling.
Nothing is mine except what is mine.
Chapter eight: Questions and Answers
Charad Street came into view once more. This time however, I had no time to contemplate the darkness of the leaves or the incomprehensible noises issuing from the bushes or the barks of trees. Now there was only one thought in my mind. I must unravel the secrets that surrounded this place. If only for my own sanity.
Normally I was not one to question the intent of those in positions above me, however, for the past five months, I had been kept in the dark about everything that Fudge, Dumbledore, The wizengamot was not. For the first time in my life I was not content to be blissfully ignorant. For as long as I could remember, I had only been tolerably filled in on the pieces of my life that were absolutely necessary for me to know, then been told that I would never get anywhere by questioning authority. I had believed them.
Now all that had ever been kept inside me, all that had ever been kept from me was bursting through my thoughts. Perhaps it was the combination of these which had caused my feet to follow as quickly as they ever had to the steps of Oswald Manner. It seemed suddenly that the ending of all obsessions, all ignorance, all bliss, all fear lay just beyond the door step of this house.
I lifted the knocker, ignoring the piercing shriek that had haunted my dreams for months.
The door opened, Celia was standing in the frame looking weary and quite as frazzled as Fudge had earlier after the Wizengammot review. Still, she looked at me showing her familiar polite smile.
'Hello Percy. I had a feeling you'd stop by. Please come in.'
There seemed to be something almost sad in the way she said this. However I had no time to ponder her greeting. I needed answers, and I was going to get them. I followed her into the house.
'The minister asked me to give this to you.' I said handing her the note. Without thinking, I immediately flew into the story of what had happened at the ministry. Of Fudge's abstention, Dumbledore's words about special interests, the list of unregistered Werewolves and how Fudge had been affected by it. None of this seemed to evoke any new emotion in Celia as she routinely led the way from the front room to the kitchen. Once again I had a feeling that somehow she knew everything all ready.
'Celia, What is going on?' I asked sharply after my story had finished in silence.
She stared at me intently for a few seconds, then opened her mouth as if attempting to speak, but for some reason could not articulate what she was thinking.
'What is it?' I prompted once again. I was growing impatient. What ever was happening I certainly had the right to know about it.
Her eyes moved slowly from my face to the note which still lay folded in her hands. She unfolded it and read it's contents silently. A shadow seemed to fall over her face as her eyes moved from left to right several times.
'What does it say?' I asked.
'We're moving.' She said quietly as if not daring to believe the words herself.
'Why?' I asked quickly. 'What does you living here have to do with anything?' She set the note down on the table oblivious to this question
'What does this house have to do with that hearing today? Or the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Or the old legend?'
'It's complicated.' She said hurriedly. I noticed however that her eyes inadvertently darted upward. Not only upward, but in the distinct direction of the stair well. The stair well which led to her sister's bedroom
'It has something to do with her doesn't it?' Celia moved her eyes down ward again guiltily. 'It's something about Alieanna isn't it?' She shook her head, but without any real conviction. She looked as frightened and pale as ever as she lowered herself slowly into one of the wooden chairs by the card table.
Conclusions were beginning to form in my head. The werewolf restrictions, the monthly potion, the illness, the claw markings on the garden wall; all fit together. Once again, Celia seemed to be able to read into my thoughts.
'No. It's got nothing to do with her. This is really not what your thinking.' She said hastily looking up at me, as her eyes widened.
'Then tell me what it is!' I yelled, taking even myself by surprise.
'Please Celia.' I added more calmly. 'Tell me the truth.'
She stared at me for a moment then moved her gaze to the tile patterns on the kitchen floor. It seemed like hours before she spoke.
'If I tell you,' She said slowly. 'You have to promise me one thing.'
'What?' I asked.
But there was no time for an answer. At that moment the unmistakable shriek of the handle could be heard issuing from the front porch. Someone was at the front door.
Celia's face grew, if possible, paler as she quickly jumped up from her seat at the table.
'It's too late.' I heard her whisper to herself as she stared wide eyed and immobile at the door.
'Who is it?' I asked. For it was apparent she knew.
At this question she gave another startled jump and turned once again to me.
'They musn't find you here.' She said swiftly.
'Who musn't find me here?' But once again, there was no time for an adequate answer as the door handle gave another shriek.
She grabbed me by the hand and ushered me to the door of the passageway that led to the garden.
'Stay in here and whatever you do, don't disapparate. If you do they'll hear you.' She said opening the door.
'What is this all-' 'Please! Trust me.' She implored once again as another shriek sounded from the front porch.
'Don't come out until it's over.'
Before I could protest further Celia had shut the door to the passage way. I could here the click of her shoes as they trailed across the kitchen, and the creak of an opening door.
Feeling exceptionally childish, but still resolute in my quest for answers, I bent down to the key hole attempting to view the scene.
'May I help you?' I heard her say in a voice which seemed very forcibly calm.
'Celia Oswald?' I heard a male voice ask briskly. I knew that voice. It belonged to the chief of the magical law enforcement squad Senine volsnick .
'Yes, what is it?' She asked still wearing an expression of forced calm.
I could now vaguely see the form of two men entering the house. One I could easily tell as being the tall, thin form of Volsnick. The other was a man I did not know, but his height alone gave the immediate impression of intimidation. He glared at Celia and began to circle her threateningly.
'We are sent on behalf of the ministry of magic to inform you that you are in current violation of the 133 ammendment of the code of magical beasts.' Volsnick said dryly as if reciting.
The large man moved to take Celia by the arm. She shuffled away looking only slightly shocked.
'If you'll come with us peacefully, things will look better for you.' Volsnick Said quietly.
She stared wearily for a moment at the large form before nodding her head silently. The man grabbed her forcefully by the right arm. She flinched slightly but did not protest as he led her out the door. Volsnick Followed in their wake. I heard the slow creak of the door closing. Then nothing.
It was several minuets before I dared open the door of the passageway. I walked out slowly. The old manner some how felt larger now then I had ever remembered it. The clicks of my shoes echoed through the silent walls as they might have in a cathedral.
What happened? I had come here for answers. It was strange, then, that all that burned through my mind were more questions. So many more questions.
I had to return to the Ministry. That was were they were taking her, I was sure. Over night criminals were never sent to Azkaban on their first night. They were sent to court for review first. If I wanted an answer that was where I had to go.
Convinced of this conclusion I headed toward the front door when a piece of parchment caught my eye.
The note the minister had given to Celia was lying on the kitchen counter. I picked it up hurriedly.
As I unfolded it, I was bewildered to find only one word written:
Fourteen
Chapter eight: Questions and Answers
Charad Street came into view once more. This time however, I had no time to contemplate the darkness of the leaves or the incomprehensible noises issuing from the bushes or the barks of trees. Now there was only one thought in my mind. I must unravel the secrets that surrounded this place. If only for my own sanity.
Normally I was not one to question the intent of those in positions above me, however, for the past five months, I had been kept in the dark about everything that Fudge, Dumbledore, The wizengamot was not. For the first time in my life I was not content to be blissfully ignorant. For as long as I could remember, I had only been tolerably filled in on the pieces of my life that were absolutely necessary for me to know, then been told that I would never get anywhere by questioning authority. I had believed them.
Now all that had ever been kept inside me, all that had ever been kept from me was bursting through my thoughts. Perhaps it was the combination of these which had caused my feet to follow as quickly as they ever had to the steps of Oswald Manner. It seemed suddenly that the ending of all obsessions, all ignorance, all bliss, all fear lay just beyond the door step of this house.
I lifted the knocker, ignoring the piercing shriek that had haunted my dreams for months.
The door opened, Celia was standing in the frame looking weary and quite as frazzled as Fudge had earlier after the Wizengammot review. Still, she looked at me showing her familiar polite smile.
'Hello Percy. I had a feeling you'd stop by. Please come in.'
There seemed to be something almost sad in the way she said this. However I had no time to ponder her greeting. I needed answers, and I was going to get them. I followed her into the house.
'The minister asked me to give this to you.' I said handing her the note. Without thinking, I immediately flew into the story of what had happened at the ministry. Of Fudge's abstention, Dumbledore's words about special interests, the list of unregistered Werewolves and how Fudge had been affected by it. None of this seemed to evoke any new emotion in Celia as she routinely led the way from the front room to the kitchen. Once again I had a feeling that somehow she knew everything all ready.
'Celia, What is going on?' I asked sharply after my story had finished in silence.
She stared at me intently for a few seconds, then opened her mouth as if attempting to speak, but for some reason could not articulate what she was thinking.
'What is it?' I prompted once again. I was growing impatient. What ever was happening I certainly had the right to know about it.
Her eyes moved slowly from my face to the note which still lay folded in her hands. She unfolded it and read it's contents silently. A shadow seemed to fall over her face as her eyes moved from left to right several times.
'What does it say?' I asked.
'We're moving.' She said quietly as if not daring to believe the words herself.
'Why?' I asked quickly. 'What does you living here have to do with anything?' She set the note down on the table oblivious to this question
'What does this house have to do with that hearing today? Or the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Or the old legend?'
'It's complicated.' She said hurriedly. I noticed however that her eyes inadvertently darted upward. Not only upward, but in the distinct direction of the stair well. The stair well which led to her sister's bedroom
'It has something to do with her doesn't it?' Celia moved her eyes down ward again guiltily. 'It's something about Alieanna isn't it?' She shook her head, but without any real conviction. She looked as frightened and pale as ever as she lowered herself slowly into one of the wooden chairs by the card table.
Conclusions were beginning to form in my head. The werewolf restrictions, the monthly potion, the illness, the claw markings on the garden wall; all fit together. Once again, Celia seemed to be able to read into my thoughts.
'No. It's got nothing to do with her. This is really not what your thinking.' She said hastily looking up at me, as her eyes widened.
'Then tell me what it is!' I yelled, taking even myself by surprise.
'Please Celia.' I added more calmly. 'Tell me the truth.'
She stared at me for a moment then moved her gaze to the tile patterns on the kitchen floor. It seemed like hours before she spoke.
'If I tell you,' She said slowly. 'You have to promise me one thing.'
'What?' I asked.
But there was no time for an answer. At that moment the unmistakable shriek of the handle could be heard issuing from the front porch. Someone was at the front door.
Celia's face grew, if possible, paler as she quickly jumped up from her seat at the table.
'It's too late.' I heard her whisper to herself as she stared wide eyed and immobile at the door.
'Who is it?' I asked. For it was apparent she knew.
At this question she gave another startled jump and turned once again to me.
'They musn't find you here.' She said swiftly.
'Who musn't find me here?' But once again, there was no time for an adequate answer as the door handle gave another shriek.
She grabbed me by the hand and ushered me to the door of the passageway that led to the garden.
'Stay in here and whatever you do, don't disapparate. If you do they'll hear you.' She said opening the door.
'What is this all-' 'Please! Trust me.' She implored once again as another shriek sounded from the front porch.
'Don't come out until it's over.'
Before I could protest further Celia had shut the door to the passage way. I could here the click of her shoes as they trailed across the kitchen, and the creak of an opening door.
Feeling exceptionally childish, but still resolute in my quest for answers, I bent down to the key hole attempting to view the scene.
'May I help you?' I heard her say in a voice which seemed very forcibly calm.
'Celia Oswald?' I heard a male voice ask briskly. I knew that voice. It belonged to the chief of the magical law enforcement squad Senine volsnick .
'Yes, what is it?' She asked still wearing an expression of forced calm.
I could now vaguely see the form of two men entering the house. One I could easily tell as being the tall, thin form of Volsnick. The other was a man I did not know, but his height alone gave the immediate impression of intimidation. He glared at Celia and began to circle her threateningly.
'We are sent on behalf of the ministry of magic to inform you that you are in current violation of the 133 ammendment of the code of magical beasts.' Volsnick said dryly as if reciting.
The large man moved to take Celia by the arm. She shuffled away looking only slightly shocked.
'If you'll come with us peacefully, things will look better for you.' Volsnick Said quietly.
She stared wearily for a moment at the large form before nodding her head silently. The man grabbed her forcefully by the right arm. She flinched slightly but did not protest as he led her out the door. Volsnick Followed in their wake. I heard the slow creak of the door closing. Then nothing.
It was several minuets before I dared open the door of the passageway. I walked out slowly. The old manner some how felt larger now then I had ever remembered it. The clicks of my shoes echoed through the silent walls as they might have in a cathedral.
What happened? I had come here for answers. It was strange, then, that all that burned through my mind were more questions. So many more questions.
I had to return to the Ministry. That was were they were taking her, I was sure. Over night criminals were never sent to Azkaban on their first night. They were sent to court for review first. If I wanted an answer that was where I had to go.
Convinced of this conclusion I headed toward the front door when a piece of parchment caught my eye.
The note the minister had given to Celia was lying on the kitchen counter. I picked it up hurriedly.
As I unfolded it, I was bewildered to find only one word written:
Fourteen
