Chapter Three

Frito felt his insides churning as he hurtled though arcs of light with John at his side. The elf closed his eyes, wishing it would stop. Minutes went by, and still Frito felt only air underneath him. Wherever the shingle was sending them to, it had to be a decent way from Scotland…

The light began to spiral at an alarming rate, before it leveled out, and Frito felt his feet touch solid ground. John landed on his face, mud splattering all over his features. Frito looked around and shivered.

A heavy blanket of rain was pouring in great sheets from the dark sky, pounding into the iron, grey, ocean, which surrounded them on all sides. They stood upon a rock before a large castle, which towered over them, casting a sinister shadow though the sky bore no sign of the sun. It had to be at least twice the size of Hogwarts, and at least twice as intimidating.

John opened one of the huge doors and entered the castle; Frito sped after him, as the door creaked shut. If the castle looked gloomy from the outside, it was nothing compared to the inside. The walls where bare, and the only light came from small candles letting off a blue flame, each one set a few feet from each other. Doors led off to large chambers in every direction, but Frito was yet to hear one person's voice.

Frito continued to walk after John, who didn't seem to know what he was doing, for quite some time. Then, quite suddenly, there was a voice. Two to be exact.

"Hey there! Mr. Draconian!" Said one voice. "How are you doing today? It's quite fine, if I do say so myself!" A loud wave of thunder rattled the windows.

"Uh, yes, lovely day, Alan," came the reply from the voice of Christopher Draconian. "I wanted to ask you a question."

"Go right ahead, Frito," Alan said, smacking his lips. Chris overlooked the strange mistake.

"I have a very important mission for you," he told Alan. "It's so important I wouldn't trust any one else with it."
Alan swelled with pride, as Chris continued.

"All you have to do is take a boat out into the ocean and wait for your next orders." As he spoke, three men walked up behind him, two of which seized him under the armpits.

"Oh, hello!" Alan said, in surprise, as the men led him off.

"Nothing to be scared off, Mr. Night," Chris called after him. "There just escorting you outside!"

"What's there to be scared of? It's only Kevin…"

Chris turned to the man who remained. "Poor chap," he sighed. "Never has been completely right since that memory charm. I mean, sometimes he's the same, but other's he's… well. Yesterday, he showed up in my room and thought he was outside on a swing set… Get the point?"

The other man nodded, gloomily. "You-uh. Wanted me for something, Mr. Draconian?"

"Yes. I did. Can you check up on how Starlight is doing? If he's acting any different than tell the dementors to leave." And with that, Chris walked away, and the other man walked off in the other direction.

Starlight? Frito was confused. How could John be right next to him if he was also being tortured in one of the chambers? John went off in the direction of Chris, and though, Frito wanted to find out more about the John down the hall, he ran after him. Within a few moments, Chris was in their view.

"Mr. Dracoan!" John called. Chris turned around.

Chris stared at him. "What in Hades name are you doing here? You supposed to be chained up! Who let you out?!"

"Mr. Dracoan!" John said more slowly. "I am John. I like Sam. I hate GileSan. Rember?"

Then it dawned on Chris. "Oh! You're the other John!" His expression darkened. "You idiot!"

John took a step back, as Chris lost his temper.

"Didn't you think once that if you weren't there, that people would grow suspicious?!" He roared.

John whimpered. "I-no-understood…" He muttered. "What-is-Mr. Dracoan-say?"

Chris clutched his hair. "Why couldn't they have found a John from an English speaking dimension!" He waved his hand and John fell to the floor, his face changing into that of a rotting corpse. Frito took a step back, in horror, and it was then that Chris noticed him.

"Frito?"

"Uh, M, m, master Chr-Chris…" Frito stuttered. He felt horrible saying it. But then, to Frito's great surprise, Chris picked him up, and actually hugged him.

"It is so good to see you again, my dear house elf," Chris sighed, putting Frito down. "Come, come. Let us rejoice. Have something to eat. You don't look like you've had good meal in days."

Chris led Frito down a long hallway until they reached a set of double doors.

Chris leaned into one of them, and it opened to reveal a large chamber where several people where hard at work, cooking over ovens and cauldrons. Chris snapped his fingers and all the chef's stopped their duties at once.

He snapped them again and pointed to his right. The cooks filed out of the kitchen and opened the other door. To Frito's amazement, the right door did not lead back to the kitchen, but instead to a vast dining hall.

Chris followed up the rear of the line, and when all the cooks had trumped back out, leaving various dishes of delicious and exotic food, he motioned for Frito to sit down.

Frito obeyed and pulled himself up onto one of the many high-backed chairs, which lined the sides of the table. Chris sat down next to him. There were several minutes of tense silence before-

"Well Frito," Chris asked the elf. "Aren't you going to eat?"

Frito immediately began to wolf down large portions of everything, while Chris waited patiently.

"So, how has life been since you left me?" He suddenly said. Frito chocked on a mouthful of bread. He swallowed, with much difficulty, before answering.

"It's been ok-k-kay," Frito said slowly through mouthfuls of chicken.

Chris stared at the little house elf, waiting for Frito to continue. He didn't. Chris cleared his throat loudly. "So, you and John, uh, are doing great?" The elf suddenly began to choke back tears.

"Gr-r-reat?!" He sobbed, as his shock disappeared, and his memory came flowing back. "How c-can it-t be doing fine?!" Frito stood up on his chair, suddenly furious. "You just killed him! Killed him just like you killed Master Kevin!" He was not stuttering and his eyes where void of emotion. "I used to think there was a bit of good in every body, but you sir! You have proven me wrong! You've probably killed more people this month than the Dark Lord did in three! I despise you, you foul-"

"Frito-"

"You evil…"

"Frito-"

"Son of a-

"FRITO! John's not dead!" Chris shouted. The elf stopped screaming immediately.

"He-he-he-he's not?" He peeped quietly.

"Of course he isn't," Chris told him, laying his hand of Frito's shoulder. "But he is here; would you like to see him?" An odd twisted smile swept across the young man's face.

"Y-yes," Frito stuttered. He hopped down off his chair, and Chris slid out of his; and then there was a tremendous whooshing sound. Frito could not see the top of the table, but he had a strange feeling that all the food had just vanished.