Bwah! Second chapter, 'cause Alex begged me so. She, like, friggin' attacked me this morning begging to know who Tala's father was. I think I just might reveal that in this chapter, if it will work in well. At the moment I'm also working on a persuasive essay titled "Can Humans Really Hate?" Of course, this was self-assigned, as it will include much bashing of do-gooders. Yay fun.
Elu: I'll repeat it once more, and then I'm through for this. Damon doesn't own Harry Potter, only her original characters... obviously, you twits.
Twits! Tha'ss a fun word, ya'll! Sorry... I'll carry on now...
A week had passed and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Tala were to be found wending their way through the maze-like dungeons following an especially enoyable Potions class, which, of course, was quite out of place. Thus far, the Gryffindors' potions had not bubbled over, dissolved the cauldron, filled the room with a suffocating smoke, or exploded in the face of its maker. With this lack of mistakes, Snape had been livid. The only students messing anything up were the Slytherins, and God forbid Snape took points from his own house. His anger had accumulated so much that he was to the point of bellowing at random students for laughing too loud in the corridors. It also got to the point where Destry Gunning was to be found slinking about the hallways and giving detours to the students to avoid the Potions Master. When this didn't work, Destry would quite often come barreling out of a seemingly empty classroom howling with rage at Snape whenever he'd take a snap at a student. The Dark Angel would be shaking with anger and would speak with a creepy hiss that sounded as though it shouldn't have come from her. It became a common occasion to receive a death glare from Snape if you had happened to have been rescued by Destry, and Destry was usually to be found spreading her wings to resettle the feathers which had gone all askew.
Finally, one student had been caught trying to sell firewhiskey to first years. While this was indeed a crime punishable by expulsion, he had landed himself in three weeks worth of detention with Snape. As Snape was hissing out orders, a knife whistled by his head and stuck in the wall, having only missed his head by a fraction of an inch. Everyone whirled about to see who had thrown it, and of course there was Destry, another knife ready in her hand and aimed right at Snape's heart. Afterwards, Snape made it a point to avoid students altogether, afraid for his life.
At dinner the evening of the firewhiskey incident, Harry was watching Snape and Destry. They seemed to get along as though they were the closest of friends. So why was Destry so bent on Snape's destruction? "Hey, Tala? What's with your mother? She stalks Snape and throws knives at his head, but she acts like he's her best friend. Is she as schizo as you, or something?"
"Y'know, sometimes you can literally love a person to death." Tala managed to maintain a straight face for about a half a minute, then busted out into raucous laughter during which he could hardly breath and couldn't even stand up.
Ron gave Harry a confused look, but then continued to watch Destry and Snape. Never had he seen Snape laugh, other than at someone else's expense; but now he actually seemed to be enjoying someone else's company.
"What exactly do you mean 'literally love a person to death'?" Hermione was looking at Tala with an expression that made her look like a lioness on the hunt.
Tala swallowed, but attempted to change the subject. "Uhm... er, has anyone got their DA homework finished yet?" He was nervously scratching at his neck, something Destry was known to do.
"Nice try, you. What did you mean?"
Tala cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to inform you that I'm disinclined to reply to your query."
"You can sound awful intelligent when it suits your purpose. And I'm not leaving you alone until you answer me! Your mother knows Snape somehow, and you're going to tell us exactly what their relationship is!" Hermione was, at this point, leaning over Tala menacingly. He swung his leg over the bench as if to leave, then suddenly swung it back, catching Hermione behind the knees and knocking her back onto the bench. She would've fallen right onto the floor, but Tala had calculated everything in advance and had flung an arm out to catch her. Now he was standing over her, holding her above the floor. If he let go, she would fall headfirst onto the stone.
"Play with fire, babe, you'll get burned," he growled, but not in an angry or annoyed way. His eyes were narrowed and there was a nasty grin on his face.
"Let go of me, you perverted Yankee!" Hermione screamed. Several people in the surrounding area were now watching, and over at the Slytherin table, Draco had risen, ready to help defend his cousin if Harry and Ron happened to start in on him. Tala, however, wasn't willing to get involved in a confrontation. He shoved Hermione back onto the bench, grabbed his bag, and sauntered out of the hall, dozens of pairs of eyes upon him.
Hermione quickly followed suit, grabbing her bag and books and standing up. Before she could leav, however, Ginny called to her from a little way down the table, "You're not going after him, are you? After that?"
"I have to find out how he and Gunning know Snape. I don't care about the consequences. If fire-boy there wants to make it difficult, then fine!" Hermione ran from the Hall, intent on catching Tala before they made it to the tower. At least in the corridors there was too much of a chance of someone untruding on them, which put Hermione at less risk.
Hermione found Tala walking aimlessly around in circles in a completely random corridor which was directly en route to Gryffindor Tower. It appeared he had been waiting for her. He looked up at her, then glanced at his watch. "Took you less time than I thought." Hermione remained silent. "If you're expecting an apology, you're not gettin' one, 'cause I ain't the least bit sorry."
"Of course not," Hermione snapped, exasperated and a bit annoyed at the typical American arrogance she had been warned about.
"I won't tell you how I know him, and you know it."
"Then your father. Who was he?"
"That I won't tell you, either." Tala's face, usually expressive and generally shocked or frightened whenever the conversation drifted this direction, was stubbornly blank. If there was an emotion, it was a loosely reigned wrath.
"Why are you so mad at me?"
Tala's expression didn't soften. "I've told you time and again to keep out of my private life. I'd thought I'd made it perfectly clear that I wasn't going to ever tell anyone who I really was. It was none of their damn business. And it's certainly none of yours!" His voice had steadily risen, but never did his expression change. "Who I really am would change how everyone looked at me! I'm teacher's pet back home, and have no friends there; the least I wanted was a friend, even if it meant hiding the whole truth!"
"The how do you expect to have any friends? Do you lie to the kids at Dale, too?"
"No. They know who I am, and that's why they hate me." Tala broke his gaze, much to Hermione's relief, and stared at the ground for a long, silent moment. At length, he said, "My father was a Death Eater." He then returned his gaze to Hermione, but this time his expression was that of one who has been cheated and betrayed one too many times. "In America, to have ties with a Death Eater, especially such an immediate connection as mine, is to be outcast from society forever."
"You--your father's a... Death Eater?"
"Former. He left. Or tried to. The Dark Lord wasn't too pleased. He sent an assassin to kill my father, an assassin that followed my father all the way to America. He knew that in the States he could manage to find refuge, because my mother would never let anything happen to him, even if he was a Death Eater. So he came to Indy, and the assassin followed. She didn't live to regret it. The minute she stepped foot in Indianapolis city limits, my mother ran her through with that flaming sword, screaming, 'You've come to my lands to take the man I love. Although you may be worthy of heaven, I do not believe it. Forever shall you burn in the fires of Hell, and I'll be sure to send your master down with you!' Of course, that was about a year before I was born, but Leo never hesitated to tell the story. He's a hopeless romantic, to tell you the truth. He found it such a touching story." Tala looked like he was attempting to laugh but failed horribly.
"Former? So did he remain in America, or come back to England?"
Tala grinned ruefully. "I always thought you were sharper than that, Hermione. He returned to England once word of the Dark Lord's 'destruction' had reached American soil. Leo managed to convince the MInistry to avoid prosecuting him, as there would be dire consequences for the prosecutors. So, forgiven and pardoned of any and every crime, he came to this school, where he remains to this day."
"Snape?" Hermione had a look of hope, probably wishing her assumptions were wrong and it was somebody else.
"Precisely. That took you longer than I imagined..."
Hermione was in schock. Tala, who had always seemed like such a kind, forgiving, beautiful person, if not a bit eccentric at times. To think that his father was a former Death Eater--not to mention her most hated professor--was unbelievable.
"And now you would be justified in hating me, I suppose?" He sounded vengeful and angry again.
'Great, say the wrong thing, and he'll incinerate me,' Hermione thought. "No. I wouldn't be justified. I can't hate you for who your father was; that isn't your fault, and you can't change it anyway."
"I wouldn't want to. To you my father may be a very spiteful person, but I love 'im nonetheless, as does my mother. But don't tell anyone. As of now, you and Draco are the only two students who know. I'd rather Harry and Ron not find out unless I tell them."
"Of course, but only if you apologize for earlier."
Again, that sly, disgusting grin drew Tala's normally handsome face into a horrible facade. It was uncanny how that single smile could make Tala look so evil and so much like... his father. "Tala, don't look at me that way. I don't want to have to think of you as Snape's son."
Tala gave a short, barklike laugh. "Mother always said that leer made me look just like Dad. Does it just unnerve you to see that much of my father in me, or does the concept of the thought process behind the expression disgust you?"
"The thought process?"
"Yeeeessss," hissed Tala. "The emotion behind the expression. Empathy has never been your strong point, has it?"
"Not with you. You're pretty blatant when it comes to your emotions, but this is new to me."
"The simplicity of the human mind shall never cease to amaze non-humans, you realize that, don't you?"
Damn. She had consitently forgotten that Tala wasn't human, that he was an angel like his mother and grandfather before him. Angelic blood too pure to be mized with human blood. Despite the term "half-angel", that creature specifically was nonexistent. Tala was as full an angel as his grandfather, the original angel of death, and in the past week he had revealed his own wings and mastery of the physical and mental state of the universe. But that was what made everything he did so glaringly obvious. He had never mastered the human concept of subtlety. And now the fact that she couldn't figure out his emotions made her feel incredibly stupid.
"Nevermind. I haven't the time nor the patience for this." Tala twisted his wrists about, emitting a wet crack that had always thouroughly disgusted Hermione. Flinching, she happened to take her eyes off him for a split second. When she opened them again, he was gone.
'Impossible! How could he just vanish?' Hermione checked every crevice, shadow, and empty room withing the vacinity, but never found Tala.
The next morning, posted in the common room, was a last minute flyer announcing the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, which had been jumped forward to that Satuday.
"Kicking us out awful early, aren't they?" Ron said, grinning.
"Just as well. I want out of here for a day. I don't see how you people stand to be cooped up like this," spat Tala.
"Do they have your mother's permission to let you go?"
"We needed permission?" Tala looked worried. Once again, he was back to his generally expressive self.
"Well, yeah. There are some kids that can't be trusted to go alone into Hogsmeade," Hermione said in that matter-of-fact tone that made Tala want to strangle her.
"Whoops. Well-no-problem. I just gotta find Mom."
"That might be harder than you think," Ginny yelled from the other side of the common room. "I just went to see her about something, but ended up running into Snape instead. He says she's already left for Hogsmeade."
Tala swore under his breath.
"What do you plan on doing now, Moriarty?" Hermione gave Tala a smug look.
Tala looked blank for a moment, then looked up at Hermione with a devious sneer. "No prob. Just sneak out. How hard could it be?"
"Harder than you think. Apparently Filch has his eye on you more than anyone else," Ginny murmured, like it was confidential information. "I overheard him telling McGonagall that if she knew what he knew about you, she wouldn't trust you either."
"Huh? Whaddazeeknow?" Tala was talking so fast it was nearly impossible to understand him.
"I think he knows who your father is... but I'm not entirely sure!" Ginny said quickly, seeing the shocked looked on the American's face.
Tala muttered something that came out sounding like a grunt and scrabbled out of the common room to the dormitory. He came back down--stumbling and falling down the last five steps--a minute later, dashed out the portrait hole--also tripping there and falling on his face in the corridor on the other side--and dissapearing to God knew where.
"He's nuts, I swear," Ron mumbled. "Needs to be locked away." Harry and Ginny nodded in agreement, but Hermione knew better.
In the hallway where the students were assembled for the Hogsmeade trip the next morning, Tala was there early, like he was to everything else. No one ever asked why he was early; they just assumed he woke up earlier than everyone, because he tended to go to bed long before anyone else did.
"So you're going?" Harry asked, skeptical.
"Yup."
"Did you run off to Hogsmeade last night to find your mother?" Ron pressed.
"Nuh-uh."
"What then?"
"None o' yer business, pal!"
Ron raised his hands in defeat and turned to pretend to be listening to Filch, who was constantly staring at Tala as if wishing he would spontaneously combust right on the spot.
No one else seemed to be paying attention, so Hermione leaned over Tala's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Why does he seem so angry with you?"
"He caught me last night," replied Tala, not turning around or removing his gaze from Filch. That man might be a squib, but he still scared Tala half to death. "I went to get Dad's permission, and I ran into that old geezer first. He wouldn't believe me when I said where I was going. Somehow he knows I never needed help in Potions, and that I don't even have homework in that class to begin with, so he thought it awful suspicious that I was goin' there. So he followed me, o' course. Dad went ballistic and chewed 'im out. It was a riot. He told Filch that unless he had a death wish, he would leave me alone."
"Wow. I don't think Snape's ever really stood up for anyone."
"He had to. Mom wasn't there to sign the permission thing. And Filch's been asking for it ever since I showed up. That old buzzard has yet to actually punish me for anything, because it was always my dad that would threaten to obliterate 'im. Mom never had anything to with that."
"That's why you're never in trouble with anyone except McGonagall?"
"Exactly. Because she's mad at my dad for letting me get away with so much, and unless my mother hears it from Dad, she's not going to believe I'm misbehaving. I'm untouchable!"
"That might not last long," Hermione grumbled to herself as the crowd moved on. She watched as Tala swaggered past Filch. The caretaker gave him a look of utmost contempt, but didn't dare say a word, as Snape was standing not far away.
During the trek to Hogsmeade, Harry and Ron continued to push and prod Tala for information on how he got permission to go. Never once did Tala answer.
Once at the town, Tala began to break off.
"Where d'you think you're going, Tala?" Ron yelled.
"You'll see. Just... get lost, all right?" He shoved through the masses of students in his rush to get to wherever he was going.
Harry and Ron shrugged it off, but Hermione was starting to wonder what he was up to. He had started acting strange two days ago, and hadn't quite gone back to normal... whatever normal was for someone like him. The trio headed off to the Three Broomsticks, as usual, hoping to find a way to have their regular conversations that they used to have before those psychotic Americans showed up.
Upon arriving at the Three Broomsticks, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were greeted with a loud cry from a far corner of the pub. "Howway, hinny! O'er 'ere!" It was Destry, assembled with her was Leonard Slytherin--who had supposedly left for America the day following the lesson he took part in--two Spaniards, Kyleran Ravenclaw, and a blonde-haired, blue-eyed stranger with wings much the same as Destry's, only black-and-red-feathered.
When the trio had taken their seats opposite Destry and the younger Spaniard, Destry began making introductions, starting with the young Spaniard and moving counterclockwise about the table. "Beauregard Lopez de Marti-Slytherin, Leo's youngest son; DeLito Diego, European Minister of Magic; Leonard Slytherin, North American Minister of Magic; Harry Potter, you obviously all know who he is; his closest friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger; Kyleran Ravenclaw, Oceanic Minister of Magic; and John 'Jay' Gunning, former angel of death, and my father. Carry on with the small talk until Tala gets here."
"What's going on?" Ron blurted.
"You'll see, senor!" snapped Diego, sounding slightly vexed.
"Diego," chided Jay. His voice sounded like steel, the exact opposite of Destry's trademark Malfoy drawl. "Weasley, do not meddle in things not yet yours to know. You will know soon enough."
Ron couldn't decide which was worse: Diego's impatient snapping or Jay's hollow, metallic voice.
"Tala's nowhere on this street or the cross street. I've searched every store," drawled a cold voice from behind Harry and Ron. "Who are these two and... the Mudblood?"
Ron and Harry followed Hermione's insulted gaze around to face a slim, young woman with white gold hair and cobalt blue eyes.
"He'll find his way here soon enough," Destry replied in a voice that sounded nearly identical. "Severus must've sent him off to do something for him."
The woman smiled--if it could be called that--and replied, "Well in that case..."
"Desdemona, please to not start any problems by name-calling. I honestly thought you had left that behind," Jay said to the woman.
"I had little against them, but their kind and those wretches who love them were responsible for my little brother's death nonetheless!"
"If Draco had been here, I would have seen to it that you were removed from this investigation just for mentioning Lucius. We all mourned and regretted his death you know that more than anyone else but I had thought we had decided that what was in the past was in the past."
"Fine. I'll leave it. She has anything to say about Draco or Lucius, she'd best dare not say it in my presence." Through this entire volley, Desdemona refused to look directly at Hermione.
When she had gone about and taken a seat between Jay and Destry, Hermione whispered to Ron, "Desdemona. It's Greek meaning 'of the devil'." Hermione looked up at Destry. "Destry, do you have a middle name?"
"No, go away," growled Destry disdainfully. Hermione looked taken aback and looked about to leave.
"She's not being literal, Granger, obviously," spat Desdemona. Hermione had known this woman for barely three minutes and already she didn't like her. She was just like Lucius and Draco, arrogant, spiteful, and highly prejudiced. If this woman was really Destry's mother, and that emotionless black-winged angel her father, then Hermione had no idea how Destry got such an odd sense of humor and lighthearted nature.
"Yes, I do have a middle name. Rowdy. Few people have dared to call me that, though."
"Rowdy? Who would dare to call you that?" Harry asked, snorting.
"Severus. He's the only person who's ever called me that and not gotten a swipe across the nose or a pencil in the eye."
"Oh I remember that! Dad thought it was the funniest name in the world, right? That's why he calls you that," came Tala's loud, recognizable voice from directly behind Hermione. She jumped slightly and he put his hands on her shoulders. "Chill, babe, it's not an air raid." Desdemona glowered at Tala, willing the timestream to rewind so she could drag him away from that Mudblood before he said anything to her.
"Taallaaa--" she started up growling which swiftly rose to a roar.
"Isn't under your authority, Des," countered Snape, who had apparently followed Tala in but had remained hidden and silent.
"Of course not," Desdemona quickly said in a honeyed voice that was dripping with enamour.
"Mine," Destry huffed, to make it sound like a sneeze.
"Can we please just get on with this!" Beauregard broke in. He had a curious lisp that was signature to the Spanish.
Tala nodded in his direction and dropped down into the empty seat beside Hermione, Snape walking the far way around the table to avoid passing Desdemona and took the chair next to Destry.
"All right, for the most part, you all have at least a vague idea why you're here. You've been summoned here on Leo's orders. You three, however," Destry began, looking pointedly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "are completely in the dark. But, as I've heard some pretty miraculous things about you three, there will be no harm in you assisting us."
"Assisting you?" asked Harry, looking to each adult in turn.
"Yes, in a murder investigation twenty-three years past which has defied even me," replied Jay.
"Murder? By who? Or who was killed?"
Desdemona looked at Beauregard guiltily. "Papillon?"
"Shoot, chere."
"It was Beau's mother, Maria de Lopez Marti san Bernadino. She was killed here in Hogsmeade four years after Beau was born. No evidence to suggest murder, but what makes the SA pin it as a murder, is that cause of death was stroke and cardiac arrest simaltaeneously. Maria was only twenty. Twenty-year-old, perfectly healthy women don't just die of a heart attack for no reason!"
Jay was staring at Desdemona, whose voice had graudally risen to a near-shout during her little presentation.
"That's the whole thing in a nutshell, I suppose," Tala said flatly, looking straight at Hermione. "So we're really gonna do somethin' about it finally? After twenty-three years? Grand-dad, you're sure the UK's Ministry ain't gonna go bonkers on us for this, right?"
"They will. Invariably. Fudge will never take kindly to North American meddling, especially if the Steel Angels are the driving force behind the investigation. He will... attempt to step in." Jay's eyes moved slyly to Leo then to Destry. He grinned maliciously and Hermione gasped, leaning back, but Ron and Harry leaned forward. Jay had fangs, like a vampire, only one was gold. "Destry and Leo have been kind enough to employ the services of Crimson Blackbird and his Vampyres." Abruptly, his grin fell away and the same passive, flat mask returned, and he continued on in a very rushed, quick manner. "He and the Blackbirds will be guarding the town and the school we intend to keep this as quiet as possible if any one of you three says a word to anyone besides the people currently present or Draco Malfoy you will be strung up by your own entrails do I make myself clear?"
The trio just nodded.
"We're not threatening. I may hate them, but they are still my students," Snape growled from his way-too-small corner. He looked uncomfortably squashed between Destry and Beau, who was leaning as far as he could in the opposite direction.
"So be it." Jay, for once, looked thoroughly angered, and seemed to have a deep loathing of Snape.
"Dad... I get that you're still miffed at 'im, but chill until we're not in such a... public place."
Diego, who had been staring at what looked like a book in his lap, looked up and glared at Destry. "Senoritas, you are how old?"
"Thirty-eight. Why? Ya'll got a problem with me 'r somethin'?"
"You speak as though you are still fourteen."
"Is that a crime, dude? 'Cause I quite frankly don't care."
"Done!" yelled Desdemona. The entire pub went deathly silent as every head in the place turned to face the SA's table. Desdemona looked about the room with an air of authority, until she suddenly screeched, "Haven't you people got lives? Mind yer own frickin' business!" With the rise of her voice came a distinct Midwestern accent similar to Tala's, Destry's, and Jay's. She dropped down into her seat and continued to glower at everyone surrounding her.
Kyleran began to rise as he scrabbled backward, only succeeding in falling over once before completely standing. He high-stepped all the way across the floor to the door, a disdainful, insulted look on his face. At the door he turned and snapped out, "I'm obviously not needed here, mates, so I'll be leavin'. I'll send the wallaroo to represent my Ministry. DeLito, are you still in?" Diego shook his head and marched out of the pub. "G'day," Kyler said, tipping his hat and following Diego outside.
"What was that for?" Beau looked confused.
"I have no idea, but I seriously need a Starbucks." Destry put her forehead onto the table. "Caffeine..." she moaned, then twitched horribly. Actually, it was more of a convulsion than a twitch.
Leo pulled a plastic bottle out of an army-issue canvas bag and set it on the table in front of Destry. The label clearly read "Jolt". Destry lifted her head and her eyes grew wide until she looked positively manic. "Jolt. Mew," she squeaked. Then, suddenly loud, "This is, like, the mother of all caffeinated drinks, man! Totally righteous, dude. I love ya, Leo. Where'd ya find it?"
"All the way back at the 7-Eleven on US 36 on the campus." Leo grinned proudly.
"7-Eleven will rule the world with this stuff, I swear it."
"Are we done here?" Tala asked rudely.
"Ja. Go away," Destry said hurriedly. In a split second she had raised the bottle to her mouth with both hands, and everyone watched as she chugged half of it at once.
"Good, 'cause now I ain't hangin' 'round to deal with you all high on caffeine. You're sorta abusive when you're wired." Tala turned on his heel, grabbing Hermione by the arm. "C'mon you three. You honestly don't wanna be within hearing range of her once she gets going."
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Tala half ran-half fell out of The Three Broomsticks. In the full light of day, they finally got a good look at Tala, since they had certainly been wondering what he'd been up to while Desdemona was looking for him.
"What happened to your hair?" yelled Hermione.
"Fun, ain't it?" Tala's hair, once long and black like his father's, was now a mullet. "Frightening, though, eh? Dad's gonna kill me when he actually sees it!" Not only was it cut, it was now striped brilliant red and green and tipped sky blue.
"That's such a mess, Tala," Hermione sighed, shaking her head.
"Bejeesus, woman, whaddyou care?"
"Uhm... I don't really, it's just... we're always seen with you and..."
"Riiiight... I'm not feelin' ya, hon. I'm thick, ya gotta spell it out."
"Nevermind!" Hermione whirled about and stomped off.
"Where're ya goin'?" Tala called after her.
"I have no idea!"
"Oh. 'Kay."
Hermione continued on down the road as the boys just watched, struck dumb. At length, Ron mumbled, "Isn't somebody gonna go after her?"
Tala shrugged. "Nah. I don't get women. But then again, they don't get me, so it evens out. Hey, when I was wondering 'roung lookin' fer a place to get my hair messed up, I found this wicked neat-o black magic-voodoo-wiccan-type-store-type-thing. Awesome really, and I recognize the chick runnin' it, too. Whaddya say we check it out better. They got a sign that says they could set you up as an Animagus in two weeks flat!"
"Sure," Ron agreed, shrugging.
"Nothing better to do, I guess," said Harry.
Tala flashed a slightly malovent grin. Hermione whispered in Harry's ear, "It's times like that he shows his blood."
"What? The Malfoy in him? I guess... I still wish he would tell us who is father is... or was if his father's dead." Hermione wanted so badly to tell Harry the truth, but no longer trusted Tala to not react violently, now knowing the full extent of his lineage.
The little voodoo shop at the far end of Hogsmeade wasn't actually a voodoo shop. It was Pagan, run by a Celt who bore an odd resemblance to Desdemona.
"This is Balthazar, but we just call 'im Balto. Y'know, like the wolf-dog? He's my uncle," Tala said, a bit loudly and happily.
"Well we're awful chipper today, boyo. What're you up to, eh, Buck?"
"Mum told ya'll about Maria san Bernadino, right?"
"I'm her foreward spy for the town," Balto said proudly. "She's never trusted me with something like this, so I'm wondering if maybe Mom or Dad or your father convinced her to put me in charge of the Hogsmeade division."
"Dad probably. He actually got along with you. Only person he ever really got along with. Figured if he had you on his side nobody would put up any objection to him having my mother. But anyway... who've you got working for you?"
"Sandrie. He's put Akira on the satellites working out of Blackburn in Lancashire. He's somewhere around here, messing around with the dragon tech."
"Dragon tech?"
"Yeah. You remember. Something Akira, Alan, your dad and I were working on for, like, ages. Tech--electronics and such--that'll work within Hogwarts' grounds."
"Oh. Right. So... who put Sandrie in charge of the project?"
Balto looked behind Tala for a split second and practically fell off the stool he was sitting on. "Who're they?" He shouted, unnecessarily loud. "How much d'they know?"
"Don't worry. Mum put 'em on the case, too. Who put Sandrie in charge?"
Balto looked about the shop as though it might be bugged. "My mother. Your mom's been hinting at it for months, but your dad didn't want Alan to head it. Your dad doesn't trust Alan--"
"And rightly so, Balthazar. Sandrie's a former Death Eater!" By this point, Balto and Tala were speaking in near whispers, as if someone were listening.
"So's yer dad!" snarled Balto. At this, Harry and Ron jumped a bit and stared in shock at Tala.
"Thanks, you twit! You friggin' moron! What's wrong with you?"
"You said they were in!"
"Not all the way! They're workin' on the case, but they know nothin' 'bout me! They don't need to."
"Who is he, Tala? You've made it obvious enough you don't want us to know, but apparently everyone else does," Harry said scathingly.
Balto leaned back slightly, a smug expression on his face. "You're the golden boy of the age... you figure it out on your own," he drawled. "C'mon, bright boy. Think it out!"
Harry stared hard at Tala, who changed his expression to draw his resemblance away from his mother's side of the family. But now that his hair was cut and dyed, he bore little resemblance to his father.
"I have no idea."
Tala curled his lip and spat, "Come now, Potter, I thought you were supposed to be sharper than that."
It suddenly hit Harry. "Snape?" he said, in almost a hiss.
Tala stood up straight and grinned. "Yep!" At that, he was finished with arguing and tired of being on the receiving end of Ron and Harry's hateful glares.
Tala couldn't be found anywhere in Hogsmeade for the rest of the day. Hermione searched up and down every road and even watched the Shrieking Shack for ten minutes, with Ron all the while muttering snide comments and asking why she even cared about the "greasy little liar".
Even hours later, upon returning to the common room, Tala was still not found.
It was late that night--around ten-thirty--when Neville came in late from the library. Hermione looked at him with such anticipation, he halted abruptly and glanced around at the remaining Gryffindors: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Parvati, and Lavender. "Erm... are we waiting for someone?"
"No," Ron snapped. "No one worth waiting up for."
Hermione looked sharply at Ron then turned back to Neville. "You haven't seen Tala anywhere, have you?"
"Yeah. He was in the library. He said that if anyone asked he would be there all night; I reckon he was serious, too. He had a massive pile of books in front of him... weird things like 'Lycanthropes and Werewolves: The History of the Wolf-Changers'. Does that make sense to you?"
"What else did he have?" Hermione was a little confused as to why werewolves would be of any importance to Tala.
"Well, there was 'History of the Blackbird Clan: A Study of the Vampire Lords'... a fictional--at least I think it was fictional--story called 'The Steel Angels and the Vincennes'--"
"Vincennes?" Ron's interest had been piqued.
"Yeah. Why? Do you know what it is?"
"A little. They cause the Ministries more than their fair share of trouble. Apparently it was a fighting force founded alongside You-Know-Who, sort of like his secret service or something. Their commanding officer, Gryffindor's heir, was always jealous of You-Know-Who, and usually made up his own rules. Killed loads of people, the Vincennes."
"And the Steel Angels," Neville began, taking a seat in an empty chair opposite Ron, "I thought they were just a myth, something Slytherin came up with to scare You-Know-Who."
"So did I. I knew Vincennes was real, because Bill got an application sent to him to teach at their college in Indiana, in America. He turned it down, of course, because he didn't trust them. But I can't imagine why that Yank would care... Vincennes vanished long time ago, when You-Know-Who had been gone for a few years. Their badgering the Ministry wasn't getting them anywhere so they... er--"
"--disbanded?" supplied Hermione. "Whatever his reason, he's not staying there all night. I'm sure he hasn't a reason for that..." Hermione rose, grabbing her bag and stuffing her textbooks into her bag and rushing off.
"Why does she even care?" Ron growled.
"Did Tala do something to make you mad?" Neville asked. Ron just gave him a death glare.
God, that took long enough, eh? The evil plot bunnies were parading around my brain, kicking it to bits and beating the inside of my skull senseless with the Steel Angels flag. And now that you all think I'm completely and utterly mad, good day to you all.
Elu: I'll repeat it once more, and then I'm through for this. Damon doesn't own Harry Potter, only her original characters... obviously, you twits.
Twits! Tha'ss a fun word, ya'll! Sorry... I'll carry on now...
A week had passed and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Tala were to be found wending their way through the maze-like dungeons following an especially enoyable Potions class, which, of course, was quite out of place. Thus far, the Gryffindors' potions had not bubbled over, dissolved the cauldron, filled the room with a suffocating smoke, or exploded in the face of its maker. With this lack of mistakes, Snape had been livid. The only students messing anything up were the Slytherins, and God forbid Snape took points from his own house. His anger had accumulated so much that he was to the point of bellowing at random students for laughing too loud in the corridors. It also got to the point where Destry Gunning was to be found slinking about the hallways and giving detours to the students to avoid the Potions Master. When this didn't work, Destry would quite often come barreling out of a seemingly empty classroom howling with rage at Snape whenever he'd take a snap at a student. The Dark Angel would be shaking with anger and would speak with a creepy hiss that sounded as though it shouldn't have come from her. It became a common occasion to receive a death glare from Snape if you had happened to have been rescued by Destry, and Destry was usually to be found spreading her wings to resettle the feathers which had gone all askew.
Finally, one student had been caught trying to sell firewhiskey to first years. While this was indeed a crime punishable by expulsion, he had landed himself in three weeks worth of detention with Snape. As Snape was hissing out orders, a knife whistled by his head and stuck in the wall, having only missed his head by a fraction of an inch. Everyone whirled about to see who had thrown it, and of course there was Destry, another knife ready in her hand and aimed right at Snape's heart. Afterwards, Snape made it a point to avoid students altogether, afraid for his life.
At dinner the evening of the firewhiskey incident, Harry was watching Snape and Destry. They seemed to get along as though they were the closest of friends. So why was Destry so bent on Snape's destruction? "Hey, Tala? What's with your mother? She stalks Snape and throws knives at his head, but she acts like he's her best friend. Is she as schizo as you, or something?"
"Y'know, sometimes you can literally love a person to death." Tala managed to maintain a straight face for about a half a minute, then busted out into raucous laughter during which he could hardly breath and couldn't even stand up.
Ron gave Harry a confused look, but then continued to watch Destry and Snape. Never had he seen Snape laugh, other than at someone else's expense; but now he actually seemed to be enjoying someone else's company.
"What exactly do you mean 'literally love a person to death'?" Hermione was looking at Tala with an expression that made her look like a lioness on the hunt.
Tala swallowed, but attempted to change the subject. "Uhm... er, has anyone got their DA homework finished yet?" He was nervously scratching at his neck, something Destry was known to do.
"Nice try, you. What did you mean?"
Tala cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to inform you that I'm disinclined to reply to your query."
"You can sound awful intelligent when it suits your purpose. And I'm not leaving you alone until you answer me! Your mother knows Snape somehow, and you're going to tell us exactly what their relationship is!" Hermione was, at this point, leaning over Tala menacingly. He swung his leg over the bench as if to leave, then suddenly swung it back, catching Hermione behind the knees and knocking her back onto the bench. She would've fallen right onto the floor, but Tala had calculated everything in advance and had flung an arm out to catch her. Now he was standing over her, holding her above the floor. If he let go, she would fall headfirst onto the stone.
"Play with fire, babe, you'll get burned," he growled, but not in an angry or annoyed way. His eyes were narrowed and there was a nasty grin on his face.
"Let go of me, you perverted Yankee!" Hermione screamed. Several people in the surrounding area were now watching, and over at the Slytherin table, Draco had risen, ready to help defend his cousin if Harry and Ron happened to start in on him. Tala, however, wasn't willing to get involved in a confrontation. He shoved Hermione back onto the bench, grabbed his bag, and sauntered out of the hall, dozens of pairs of eyes upon him.
Hermione quickly followed suit, grabbing her bag and books and standing up. Before she could leav, however, Ginny called to her from a little way down the table, "You're not going after him, are you? After that?"
"I have to find out how he and Gunning know Snape. I don't care about the consequences. If fire-boy there wants to make it difficult, then fine!" Hermione ran from the Hall, intent on catching Tala before they made it to the tower. At least in the corridors there was too much of a chance of someone untruding on them, which put Hermione at less risk.
Hermione found Tala walking aimlessly around in circles in a completely random corridor which was directly en route to Gryffindor Tower. It appeared he had been waiting for her. He looked up at her, then glanced at his watch. "Took you less time than I thought." Hermione remained silent. "If you're expecting an apology, you're not gettin' one, 'cause I ain't the least bit sorry."
"Of course not," Hermione snapped, exasperated and a bit annoyed at the typical American arrogance she had been warned about.
"I won't tell you how I know him, and you know it."
"Then your father. Who was he?"
"That I won't tell you, either." Tala's face, usually expressive and generally shocked or frightened whenever the conversation drifted this direction, was stubbornly blank. If there was an emotion, it was a loosely reigned wrath.
"Why are you so mad at me?"
Tala's expression didn't soften. "I've told you time and again to keep out of my private life. I'd thought I'd made it perfectly clear that I wasn't going to ever tell anyone who I really was. It was none of their damn business. And it's certainly none of yours!" His voice had steadily risen, but never did his expression change. "Who I really am would change how everyone looked at me! I'm teacher's pet back home, and have no friends there; the least I wanted was a friend, even if it meant hiding the whole truth!"
"The how do you expect to have any friends? Do you lie to the kids at Dale, too?"
"No. They know who I am, and that's why they hate me." Tala broke his gaze, much to Hermione's relief, and stared at the ground for a long, silent moment. At length, he said, "My father was a Death Eater." He then returned his gaze to Hermione, but this time his expression was that of one who has been cheated and betrayed one too many times. "In America, to have ties with a Death Eater, especially such an immediate connection as mine, is to be outcast from society forever."
"You--your father's a... Death Eater?"
"Former. He left. Or tried to. The Dark Lord wasn't too pleased. He sent an assassin to kill my father, an assassin that followed my father all the way to America. He knew that in the States he could manage to find refuge, because my mother would never let anything happen to him, even if he was a Death Eater. So he came to Indy, and the assassin followed. She didn't live to regret it. The minute she stepped foot in Indianapolis city limits, my mother ran her through with that flaming sword, screaming, 'You've come to my lands to take the man I love. Although you may be worthy of heaven, I do not believe it. Forever shall you burn in the fires of Hell, and I'll be sure to send your master down with you!' Of course, that was about a year before I was born, but Leo never hesitated to tell the story. He's a hopeless romantic, to tell you the truth. He found it such a touching story." Tala looked like he was attempting to laugh but failed horribly.
"Former? So did he remain in America, or come back to England?"
Tala grinned ruefully. "I always thought you were sharper than that, Hermione. He returned to England once word of the Dark Lord's 'destruction' had reached American soil. Leo managed to convince the MInistry to avoid prosecuting him, as there would be dire consequences for the prosecutors. So, forgiven and pardoned of any and every crime, he came to this school, where he remains to this day."
"Snape?" Hermione had a look of hope, probably wishing her assumptions were wrong and it was somebody else.
"Precisely. That took you longer than I imagined..."
Hermione was in schock. Tala, who had always seemed like such a kind, forgiving, beautiful person, if not a bit eccentric at times. To think that his father was a former Death Eater--not to mention her most hated professor--was unbelievable.
"And now you would be justified in hating me, I suppose?" He sounded vengeful and angry again.
'Great, say the wrong thing, and he'll incinerate me,' Hermione thought. "No. I wouldn't be justified. I can't hate you for who your father was; that isn't your fault, and you can't change it anyway."
"I wouldn't want to. To you my father may be a very spiteful person, but I love 'im nonetheless, as does my mother. But don't tell anyone. As of now, you and Draco are the only two students who know. I'd rather Harry and Ron not find out unless I tell them."
"Of course, but only if you apologize for earlier."
Again, that sly, disgusting grin drew Tala's normally handsome face into a horrible facade. It was uncanny how that single smile could make Tala look so evil and so much like... his father. "Tala, don't look at me that way. I don't want to have to think of you as Snape's son."
Tala gave a short, barklike laugh. "Mother always said that leer made me look just like Dad. Does it just unnerve you to see that much of my father in me, or does the concept of the thought process behind the expression disgust you?"
"The thought process?"
"Yeeeessss," hissed Tala. "The emotion behind the expression. Empathy has never been your strong point, has it?"
"Not with you. You're pretty blatant when it comes to your emotions, but this is new to me."
"The simplicity of the human mind shall never cease to amaze non-humans, you realize that, don't you?"
Damn. She had consitently forgotten that Tala wasn't human, that he was an angel like his mother and grandfather before him. Angelic blood too pure to be mized with human blood. Despite the term "half-angel", that creature specifically was nonexistent. Tala was as full an angel as his grandfather, the original angel of death, and in the past week he had revealed his own wings and mastery of the physical and mental state of the universe. But that was what made everything he did so glaringly obvious. He had never mastered the human concept of subtlety. And now the fact that she couldn't figure out his emotions made her feel incredibly stupid.
"Nevermind. I haven't the time nor the patience for this." Tala twisted his wrists about, emitting a wet crack that had always thouroughly disgusted Hermione. Flinching, she happened to take her eyes off him for a split second. When she opened them again, he was gone.
'Impossible! How could he just vanish?' Hermione checked every crevice, shadow, and empty room withing the vacinity, but never found Tala.
The next morning, posted in the common room, was a last minute flyer announcing the first Hogsmeade trip of the year, which had been jumped forward to that Satuday.
"Kicking us out awful early, aren't they?" Ron said, grinning.
"Just as well. I want out of here for a day. I don't see how you people stand to be cooped up like this," spat Tala.
"Do they have your mother's permission to let you go?"
"We needed permission?" Tala looked worried. Once again, he was back to his generally expressive self.
"Well, yeah. There are some kids that can't be trusted to go alone into Hogsmeade," Hermione said in that matter-of-fact tone that made Tala want to strangle her.
"Whoops. Well-no-problem. I just gotta find Mom."
"That might be harder than you think," Ginny yelled from the other side of the common room. "I just went to see her about something, but ended up running into Snape instead. He says she's already left for Hogsmeade."
Tala swore under his breath.
"What do you plan on doing now, Moriarty?" Hermione gave Tala a smug look.
Tala looked blank for a moment, then looked up at Hermione with a devious sneer. "No prob. Just sneak out. How hard could it be?"
"Harder than you think. Apparently Filch has his eye on you more than anyone else," Ginny murmured, like it was confidential information. "I overheard him telling McGonagall that if she knew what he knew about you, she wouldn't trust you either."
"Huh? Whaddazeeknow?" Tala was talking so fast it was nearly impossible to understand him.
"I think he knows who your father is... but I'm not entirely sure!" Ginny said quickly, seeing the shocked looked on the American's face.
Tala muttered something that came out sounding like a grunt and scrabbled out of the common room to the dormitory. He came back down--stumbling and falling down the last five steps--a minute later, dashed out the portrait hole--also tripping there and falling on his face in the corridor on the other side--and dissapearing to God knew where.
"He's nuts, I swear," Ron mumbled. "Needs to be locked away." Harry and Ginny nodded in agreement, but Hermione knew better.
In the hallway where the students were assembled for the Hogsmeade trip the next morning, Tala was there early, like he was to everything else. No one ever asked why he was early; they just assumed he woke up earlier than everyone, because he tended to go to bed long before anyone else did.
"So you're going?" Harry asked, skeptical.
"Yup."
"Did you run off to Hogsmeade last night to find your mother?" Ron pressed.
"Nuh-uh."
"What then?"
"None o' yer business, pal!"
Ron raised his hands in defeat and turned to pretend to be listening to Filch, who was constantly staring at Tala as if wishing he would spontaneously combust right on the spot.
No one else seemed to be paying attention, so Hermione leaned over Tala's shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Why does he seem so angry with you?"
"He caught me last night," replied Tala, not turning around or removing his gaze from Filch. That man might be a squib, but he still scared Tala half to death. "I went to get Dad's permission, and I ran into that old geezer first. He wouldn't believe me when I said where I was going. Somehow he knows I never needed help in Potions, and that I don't even have homework in that class to begin with, so he thought it awful suspicious that I was goin' there. So he followed me, o' course. Dad went ballistic and chewed 'im out. It was a riot. He told Filch that unless he had a death wish, he would leave me alone."
"Wow. I don't think Snape's ever really stood up for anyone."
"He had to. Mom wasn't there to sign the permission thing. And Filch's been asking for it ever since I showed up. That old buzzard has yet to actually punish me for anything, because it was always my dad that would threaten to obliterate 'im. Mom never had anything to with that."
"That's why you're never in trouble with anyone except McGonagall?"
"Exactly. Because she's mad at my dad for letting me get away with so much, and unless my mother hears it from Dad, she's not going to believe I'm misbehaving. I'm untouchable!"
"That might not last long," Hermione grumbled to herself as the crowd moved on. She watched as Tala swaggered past Filch. The caretaker gave him a look of utmost contempt, but didn't dare say a word, as Snape was standing not far away.
During the trek to Hogsmeade, Harry and Ron continued to push and prod Tala for information on how he got permission to go. Never once did Tala answer.
Once at the town, Tala began to break off.
"Where d'you think you're going, Tala?" Ron yelled.
"You'll see. Just... get lost, all right?" He shoved through the masses of students in his rush to get to wherever he was going.
Harry and Ron shrugged it off, but Hermione was starting to wonder what he was up to. He had started acting strange two days ago, and hadn't quite gone back to normal... whatever normal was for someone like him. The trio headed off to the Three Broomsticks, as usual, hoping to find a way to have their regular conversations that they used to have before those psychotic Americans showed up.
Upon arriving at the Three Broomsticks, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were greeted with a loud cry from a far corner of the pub. "Howway, hinny! O'er 'ere!" It was Destry, assembled with her was Leonard Slytherin--who had supposedly left for America the day following the lesson he took part in--two Spaniards, Kyleran Ravenclaw, and a blonde-haired, blue-eyed stranger with wings much the same as Destry's, only black-and-red-feathered.
When the trio had taken their seats opposite Destry and the younger Spaniard, Destry began making introductions, starting with the young Spaniard and moving counterclockwise about the table. "Beauregard Lopez de Marti-Slytherin, Leo's youngest son; DeLito Diego, European Minister of Magic; Leonard Slytherin, North American Minister of Magic; Harry Potter, you obviously all know who he is; his closest friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger; Kyleran Ravenclaw, Oceanic Minister of Magic; and John 'Jay' Gunning, former angel of death, and my father. Carry on with the small talk until Tala gets here."
"What's going on?" Ron blurted.
"You'll see, senor!" snapped Diego, sounding slightly vexed.
"Diego," chided Jay. His voice sounded like steel, the exact opposite of Destry's trademark Malfoy drawl. "Weasley, do not meddle in things not yet yours to know. You will know soon enough."
Ron couldn't decide which was worse: Diego's impatient snapping or Jay's hollow, metallic voice.
"Tala's nowhere on this street or the cross street. I've searched every store," drawled a cold voice from behind Harry and Ron. "Who are these two and... the Mudblood?"
Ron and Harry followed Hermione's insulted gaze around to face a slim, young woman with white gold hair and cobalt blue eyes.
"He'll find his way here soon enough," Destry replied in a voice that sounded nearly identical. "Severus must've sent him off to do something for him."
The woman smiled--if it could be called that--and replied, "Well in that case..."
"Desdemona, please to not start any problems by name-calling. I honestly thought you had left that behind," Jay said to the woman.
"I had little against them, but their kind and those wretches who love them were responsible for my little brother's death nonetheless!"
"If Draco had been here, I would have seen to it that you were removed from this investigation just for mentioning Lucius. We all mourned and regretted his death you know that more than anyone else but I had thought we had decided that what was in the past was in the past."
"Fine. I'll leave it. She has anything to say about Draco or Lucius, she'd best dare not say it in my presence." Through this entire volley, Desdemona refused to look directly at Hermione.
When she had gone about and taken a seat between Jay and Destry, Hermione whispered to Ron, "Desdemona. It's Greek meaning 'of the devil'." Hermione looked up at Destry. "Destry, do you have a middle name?"
"No, go away," growled Destry disdainfully. Hermione looked taken aback and looked about to leave.
"She's not being literal, Granger, obviously," spat Desdemona. Hermione had known this woman for barely three minutes and already she didn't like her. She was just like Lucius and Draco, arrogant, spiteful, and highly prejudiced. If this woman was really Destry's mother, and that emotionless black-winged angel her father, then Hermione had no idea how Destry got such an odd sense of humor and lighthearted nature.
"Yes, I do have a middle name. Rowdy. Few people have dared to call me that, though."
"Rowdy? Who would dare to call you that?" Harry asked, snorting.
"Severus. He's the only person who's ever called me that and not gotten a swipe across the nose or a pencil in the eye."
"Oh I remember that! Dad thought it was the funniest name in the world, right? That's why he calls you that," came Tala's loud, recognizable voice from directly behind Hermione. She jumped slightly and he put his hands on her shoulders. "Chill, babe, it's not an air raid." Desdemona glowered at Tala, willing the timestream to rewind so she could drag him away from that Mudblood before he said anything to her.
"Taallaaa--" she started up growling which swiftly rose to a roar.
"Isn't under your authority, Des," countered Snape, who had apparently followed Tala in but had remained hidden and silent.
"Of course not," Desdemona quickly said in a honeyed voice that was dripping with enamour.
"Mine," Destry huffed, to make it sound like a sneeze.
"Can we please just get on with this!" Beauregard broke in. He had a curious lisp that was signature to the Spanish.
Tala nodded in his direction and dropped down into the empty seat beside Hermione, Snape walking the far way around the table to avoid passing Desdemona and took the chair next to Destry.
"All right, for the most part, you all have at least a vague idea why you're here. You've been summoned here on Leo's orders. You three, however," Destry began, looking pointedly at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "are completely in the dark. But, as I've heard some pretty miraculous things about you three, there will be no harm in you assisting us."
"Assisting you?" asked Harry, looking to each adult in turn.
"Yes, in a murder investigation twenty-three years past which has defied even me," replied Jay.
"Murder? By who? Or who was killed?"
Desdemona looked at Beauregard guiltily. "Papillon?"
"Shoot, chere."
"It was Beau's mother, Maria de Lopez Marti san Bernadino. She was killed here in Hogsmeade four years after Beau was born. No evidence to suggest murder, but what makes the SA pin it as a murder, is that cause of death was stroke and cardiac arrest simaltaeneously. Maria was only twenty. Twenty-year-old, perfectly healthy women don't just die of a heart attack for no reason!"
Jay was staring at Desdemona, whose voice had graudally risen to a near-shout during her little presentation.
"That's the whole thing in a nutshell, I suppose," Tala said flatly, looking straight at Hermione. "So we're really gonna do somethin' about it finally? After twenty-three years? Grand-dad, you're sure the UK's Ministry ain't gonna go bonkers on us for this, right?"
"They will. Invariably. Fudge will never take kindly to North American meddling, especially if the Steel Angels are the driving force behind the investigation. He will... attempt to step in." Jay's eyes moved slyly to Leo then to Destry. He grinned maliciously and Hermione gasped, leaning back, but Ron and Harry leaned forward. Jay had fangs, like a vampire, only one was gold. "Destry and Leo have been kind enough to employ the services of Crimson Blackbird and his Vampyres." Abruptly, his grin fell away and the same passive, flat mask returned, and he continued on in a very rushed, quick manner. "He and the Blackbirds will be guarding the town and the school we intend to keep this as quiet as possible if any one of you three says a word to anyone besides the people currently present or Draco Malfoy you will be strung up by your own entrails do I make myself clear?"
The trio just nodded.
"We're not threatening. I may hate them, but they are still my students," Snape growled from his way-too-small corner. He looked uncomfortably squashed between Destry and Beau, who was leaning as far as he could in the opposite direction.
"So be it." Jay, for once, looked thoroughly angered, and seemed to have a deep loathing of Snape.
"Dad... I get that you're still miffed at 'im, but chill until we're not in such a... public place."
Diego, who had been staring at what looked like a book in his lap, looked up and glared at Destry. "Senoritas, you are how old?"
"Thirty-eight. Why? Ya'll got a problem with me 'r somethin'?"
"You speak as though you are still fourteen."
"Is that a crime, dude? 'Cause I quite frankly don't care."
"Done!" yelled Desdemona. The entire pub went deathly silent as every head in the place turned to face the SA's table. Desdemona looked about the room with an air of authority, until she suddenly screeched, "Haven't you people got lives? Mind yer own frickin' business!" With the rise of her voice came a distinct Midwestern accent similar to Tala's, Destry's, and Jay's. She dropped down into her seat and continued to glower at everyone surrounding her.
Kyleran began to rise as he scrabbled backward, only succeeding in falling over once before completely standing. He high-stepped all the way across the floor to the door, a disdainful, insulted look on his face. At the door he turned and snapped out, "I'm obviously not needed here, mates, so I'll be leavin'. I'll send the wallaroo to represent my Ministry. DeLito, are you still in?" Diego shook his head and marched out of the pub. "G'day," Kyler said, tipping his hat and following Diego outside.
"What was that for?" Beau looked confused.
"I have no idea, but I seriously need a Starbucks." Destry put her forehead onto the table. "Caffeine..." she moaned, then twitched horribly. Actually, it was more of a convulsion than a twitch.
Leo pulled a plastic bottle out of an army-issue canvas bag and set it on the table in front of Destry. The label clearly read "Jolt". Destry lifted her head and her eyes grew wide until she looked positively manic. "Jolt. Mew," she squeaked. Then, suddenly loud, "This is, like, the mother of all caffeinated drinks, man! Totally righteous, dude. I love ya, Leo. Where'd ya find it?"
"All the way back at the 7-Eleven on US 36 on the campus." Leo grinned proudly.
"7-Eleven will rule the world with this stuff, I swear it."
"Are we done here?" Tala asked rudely.
"Ja. Go away," Destry said hurriedly. In a split second she had raised the bottle to her mouth with both hands, and everyone watched as she chugged half of it at once.
"Good, 'cause now I ain't hangin' 'round to deal with you all high on caffeine. You're sorta abusive when you're wired." Tala turned on his heel, grabbing Hermione by the arm. "C'mon you three. You honestly don't wanna be within hearing range of her once she gets going."
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Tala half ran-half fell out of The Three Broomsticks. In the full light of day, they finally got a good look at Tala, since they had certainly been wondering what he'd been up to while Desdemona was looking for him.
"What happened to your hair?" yelled Hermione.
"Fun, ain't it?" Tala's hair, once long and black like his father's, was now a mullet. "Frightening, though, eh? Dad's gonna kill me when he actually sees it!" Not only was it cut, it was now striped brilliant red and green and tipped sky blue.
"That's such a mess, Tala," Hermione sighed, shaking her head.
"Bejeesus, woman, whaddyou care?"
"Uhm... I don't really, it's just... we're always seen with you and..."
"Riiiight... I'm not feelin' ya, hon. I'm thick, ya gotta spell it out."
"Nevermind!" Hermione whirled about and stomped off.
"Where're ya goin'?" Tala called after her.
"I have no idea!"
"Oh. 'Kay."
Hermione continued on down the road as the boys just watched, struck dumb. At length, Ron mumbled, "Isn't somebody gonna go after her?"
Tala shrugged. "Nah. I don't get women. But then again, they don't get me, so it evens out. Hey, when I was wondering 'roung lookin' fer a place to get my hair messed up, I found this wicked neat-o black magic-voodoo-wiccan-type-store-type-thing. Awesome really, and I recognize the chick runnin' it, too. Whaddya say we check it out better. They got a sign that says they could set you up as an Animagus in two weeks flat!"
"Sure," Ron agreed, shrugging.
"Nothing better to do, I guess," said Harry.
Tala flashed a slightly malovent grin. Hermione whispered in Harry's ear, "It's times like that he shows his blood."
"What? The Malfoy in him? I guess... I still wish he would tell us who is father is... or was if his father's dead." Hermione wanted so badly to tell Harry the truth, but no longer trusted Tala to not react violently, now knowing the full extent of his lineage.
The little voodoo shop at the far end of Hogsmeade wasn't actually a voodoo shop. It was Pagan, run by a Celt who bore an odd resemblance to Desdemona.
"This is Balthazar, but we just call 'im Balto. Y'know, like the wolf-dog? He's my uncle," Tala said, a bit loudly and happily.
"Well we're awful chipper today, boyo. What're you up to, eh, Buck?"
"Mum told ya'll about Maria san Bernadino, right?"
"I'm her foreward spy for the town," Balto said proudly. "She's never trusted me with something like this, so I'm wondering if maybe Mom or Dad or your father convinced her to put me in charge of the Hogsmeade division."
"Dad probably. He actually got along with you. Only person he ever really got along with. Figured if he had you on his side nobody would put up any objection to him having my mother. But anyway... who've you got working for you?"
"Sandrie. He's put Akira on the satellites working out of Blackburn in Lancashire. He's somewhere around here, messing around with the dragon tech."
"Dragon tech?"
"Yeah. You remember. Something Akira, Alan, your dad and I were working on for, like, ages. Tech--electronics and such--that'll work within Hogwarts' grounds."
"Oh. Right. So... who put Sandrie in charge of the project?"
Balto looked behind Tala for a split second and practically fell off the stool he was sitting on. "Who're they?" He shouted, unnecessarily loud. "How much d'they know?"
"Don't worry. Mum put 'em on the case, too. Who put Sandrie in charge?"
Balto looked about the shop as though it might be bugged. "My mother. Your mom's been hinting at it for months, but your dad didn't want Alan to head it. Your dad doesn't trust Alan--"
"And rightly so, Balthazar. Sandrie's a former Death Eater!" By this point, Balto and Tala were speaking in near whispers, as if someone were listening.
"So's yer dad!" snarled Balto. At this, Harry and Ron jumped a bit and stared in shock at Tala.
"Thanks, you twit! You friggin' moron! What's wrong with you?"
"You said they were in!"
"Not all the way! They're workin' on the case, but they know nothin' 'bout me! They don't need to."
"Who is he, Tala? You've made it obvious enough you don't want us to know, but apparently everyone else does," Harry said scathingly.
Balto leaned back slightly, a smug expression on his face. "You're the golden boy of the age... you figure it out on your own," he drawled. "C'mon, bright boy. Think it out!"
Harry stared hard at Tala, who changed his expression to draw his resemblance away from his mother's side of the family. But now that his hair was cut and dyed, he bore little resemblance to his father.
"I have no idea."
Tala curled his lip and spat, "Come now, Potter, I thought you were supposed to be sharper than that."
It suddenly hit Harry. "Snape?" he said, in almost a hiss.
Tala stood up straight and grinned. "Yep!" At that, he was finished with arguing and tired of being on the receiving end of Ron and Harry's hateful glares.
Tala couldn't be found anywhere in Hogsmeade for the rest of the day. Hermione searched up and down every road and even watched the Shrieking Shack for ten minutes, with Ron all the while muttering snide comments and asking why she even cared about the "greasy little liar".
Even hours later, upon returning to the common room, Tala was still not found.
It was late that night--around ten-thirty--when Neville came in late from the library. Hermione looked at him with such anticipation, he halted abruptly and glanced around at the remaining Gryffindors: Harry, Ron, Ginny, Parvati, and Lavender. "Erm... are we waiting for someone?"
"No," Ron snapped. "No one worth waiting up for."
Hermione looked sharply at Ron then turned back to Neville. "You haven't seen Tala anywhere, have you?"
"Yeah. He was in the library. He said that if anyone asked he would be there all night; I reckon he was serious, too. He had a massive pile of books in front of him... weird things like 'Lycanthropes and Werewolves: The History of the Wolf-Changers'. Does that make sense to you?"
"What else did he have?" Hermione was a little confused as to why werewolves would be of any importance to Tala.
"Well, there was 'History of the Blackbird Clan: A Study of the Vampire Lords'... a fictional--at least I think it was fictional--story called 'The Steel Angels and the Vincennes'--"
"Vincennes?" Ron's interest had been piqued.
"Yeah. Why? Do you know what it is?"
"A little. They cause the Ministries more than their fair share of trouble. Apparently it was a fighting force founded alongside You-Know-Who, sort of like his secret service or something. Their commanding officer, Gryffindor's heir, was always jealous of You-Know-Who, and usually made up his own rules. Killed loads of people, the Vincennes."
"And the Steel Angels," Neville began, taking a seat in an empty chair opposite Ron, "I thought they were just a myth, something Slytherin came up with to scare You-Know-Who."
"So did I. I knew Vincennes was real, because Bill got an application sent to him to teach at their college in Indiana, in America. He turned it down, of course, because he didn't trust them. But I can't imagine why that Yank would care... Vincennes vanished long time ago, when You-Know-Who had been gone for a few years. Their badgering the Ministry wasn't getting them anywhere so they... er--"
"--disbanded?" supplied Hermione. "Whatever his reason, he's not staying there all night. I'm sure he hasn't a reason for that..." Hermione rose, grabbing her bag and stuffing her textbooks into her bag and rushing off.
"Why does she even care?" Ron growled.
"Did Tala do something to make you mad?" Neville asked. Ron just gave him a death glare.
God, that took long enough, eh? The evil plot bunnies were parading around my brain, kicking it to bits and beating the inside of my skull senseless with the Steel Angels flag. And now that you all think I'm completely and utterly mad, good day to you all.