Hiya one and all!
So, you have returned for another dose of my peculiar and weird literature that DOES have a plotline that is lost and wandering around somewhere in the text. It IS there, somewhere, I swear.
Sorry about the time this took to get up – I had relatives stay. Again. For two weeks straight. And the computer is in the spare room.
Y'all had a good Easter? Beauty weather over here, apart from Cyclone Sose coming through on Saturday.
Thanks again to Allylupin for beta-ing for me! I really should have done English this year at school, I'm so ashamed at what I write and how I spell words sometimes.
So, without any furthur ado, here's chapter 12.
Oh, and all those people who review? I LOVE YOU!!!! XXXXXXX
Disclaimer – JK Rowline created almost everything written below. The stuff she didn't create, I did. Don't sue me. I have only a few knuts in my bank account, and I have plans for that. ;-)
Ch 12 (holy crap, chapter 12 already?)
THE GRAVEDIGGER
.
"It could be good, it could be bad." Remus said, getting up from his chair at the kitchen table to pace around the room, thinking out loud.
"So, yes, Cain is alive. I can deal with that." He muttered, candlelight casting deep shadows over his face, hiding the pain that came, choking his chest. His big brother……..the enemy. What had gone wrong in his happy childhood? No, no, it was too late to dwell on the past…
"The fact that Calypso is my niece is a little harder to cope with." Remus almost smiled at that. A niece…
Sirius spoke up from where he was standing, leaning against Pantry. "Think. We have to work out what side Calypso is on. If she's still on ours, she'll be the perfect spy. Even better than Snape. If she's not…."
"We are in deep shit." Maria finished for him, shaking her head tiredly.
"So what do we know?" Sirius said, and walked out of the shadows over to the table, where a duplicate of Calypso's file was scattered. Court reports, newspaper clippings, Auror files and pieces of parchment two, three deep. Sirius toyed with a court summons idly.
"Right, so Calypso is Remus' niece. She's the daughter of the two head Death Eaters, Octavia and Cain." Sirius winced at the last name.
"Loyal to her parents, maybe?" Maria said. "Working for them all along perhaps?"
Remus frowned, his forehead creasing slightly as he paced around the room. "No, I don't think so." He said carefully. "She betrayed them to the Aurors when she was seven years old. I don't think she has any real love for them at all."
"But they don't know she betrayed them!" Sirius shot quickly.
"True." Maria said, nodding, making shadows dance on the walls.
"She might be playing both sides against the middle." Remus pondered.
"Or just be caught up in this whole mess without wanting to be a part of it." Maria suggested.
Sirius ground his teeth in frustration. "We could speculate for hours. What we need is real information from someone who knows her. All this…." He gestured to the table, "…is interesting but bloody useless if we want to know where her loyalties lie now."
Remus stopped pacing the room, and thought briefly. "She said she lived with wizards. Any way of following that up?
Maria's eyes lit up and she started scrabbling through the pieces of parchment. "I've seen a list of residences somewhere here…." Sheets flew off the table in clouds before Maria located the large piece of paper.
She scanned the list. "Last residence is Wop-wops Villa, in Canterbury. Easy enough to check out." Remus said, reading over her shoulder.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Harry lay in his bed, listening to the voices down the passage. He rolled over, unable to sleep, even though it was past midnight. His leg was paining him, and the conversation Remus, Maria and Sirius were having in the kitchen was troubling him. Who on earth were they talking about?
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
"Oh, yeah right Evelyn! Not a snowball's chance in Hell!" Calypso bellowed down the corridor, a huge smile on her face as she fumbled with the key in her bedroom door.
"I'll see you eat your words, Calypso!" Evelyn, a poker-thin woman hollered back before stepping inside her own room and shutting the door.
Calypso laughed broadly and, finally getting the stiff bolt to turn, unlocked her door and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her.
Once inside her cell she dropped the charade like a hot potato. Quickly, she deadbolted the door and drew the chain across, putting the key on a hook up on the wall.
The smiling, happy face was gone. Calypso's face was expressionless, like a whiteboard suddenly swiped clean. Her shoulders drooped with sudden weight and she walked sluggishly to the center of her cell to sit on the edge of her bed and stare at the opposite wall.
Her room contained a single bed, hard up against the wall and window. A desk, complete with lamp and an uneven wooden chair flanked another wheat-brown wall, with an empty bookshelf and an equally empty closet. The walls were bare – apart from a silver crucifix that hung imposingly on the wall in front of the desk.
Calypso gave a sudden shudder. Her cell was chilly on the miserable summer's night, and she wondered how freezing it became in the depths of winter. Kicking her shoes off, she burrowed, fully clothed into her bed and snuggled down as much as she could on the hard, thin mattress, rough sheets, brown blankets and lay there with her eyes open, waiting for everyone to go to sleep.
What a pretty pickle she had got herself into.
Marion had been the one who had caught her on the Knight Bus. Stupefied her and then somehow Apparated both of them here, to where the Australasian Death Eaters were quartered. It was an old Convent on Cumberland Street. For Calypso, her cell really was a cell.
******************************
Angelina shivered and hunched her shoulders in the brutal wind howling across London.
"That one there. Fourth from the left, with the curtains not drawn. That's the one." She said hesitantly.
"Are you sure?" Dumbledore asked her, spectacles glinting in the moonlight. His long robes swirled angrily around his tall, thin body as he stood next to Angelina on the rooftops.
Rooftops again, Sirius though sourly, with a face to match. The wind was blowing a gale, and the night was surprisingly chilly for Summer. Freezing, in fact.
The moment Snape Apparated home, he had contacted Dumbledore, who was talking to Neil and Angelina in his office, fire roaring cheerfully away. They had put two and two together, and come to the obvious conclusion.
They had been sitting, hunched over on this dreary roof for over half an hour, and were chilled to the bone. It would be simple enough to work a few Warm-Fuzzy Charms to heat each other up, but Dumledore quickly vetoed that idea. Casting spells when Death Eaters were so close you could smell them?
It was true about smelling them. Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, Snape, Neil and Angelina had all watched one woman spray herself with some sort of liquid before examining herself in front of the mirror and retreating to bed. The perfume was hideous, a mixture of musk and acid that made Remus, with his heightened senses, retch.
The Death Eaters obviously thought no-one could see them. They kept curtains open while getting changed (thankfully, the windows were small and there was not much to be seen) and one man even leant out his window and shook out his underwear.
Or maybe all Australians acted in a similarly uncouth manner.
Forty-two cells had lit up as residents had entered their bedrooms, and now, twenty-seven minutes later, only three lights were still on. Silence was impossible – the third floor in the building the Phoenixes were standing on was playing very angry rock music very loud.
"Are you sure?" Dumbledore repeated, Angelina not hearing first time due to the music rocketing from the floor below.
Angelina nodded, her teeth chattering.
"So what are we going to do about it?" Remus said, turning to Dumbledore expectantly.
Dumbledore stared into the night sky. "Well, we obviously can't take them on. Not with this number. Not on their own turf. But we know where they are."
He nodded, and turned, walking sadly away to grab his broom, which was propped up against a smoking chimney.
The others followed, glad to leave the gloomy, chilling rooftops
But a sudden movement caught Sirius' eye as he glumly went to leave.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Calypso opened her door a crack and peered out into the deserted hallway.
No-one.
Apart from the bass booming out of an apartment on the other side of the road, it was quiet.
Calypso took a deep breath, and opened the door more, begging it silently not to squeak.
It didn't, and Calypso slipped silently out the door to stand in the dingy hallway. Keeping her back to the wall, she slowly sidestepped the corridor, watching each door she came to carefully. Snores slipped from under the doors of a few rooms. Calypso didn't dare breathe as she passed one room with the light still on. Biting her lip, she edged past it onto the end of the passage, to the fire exit.
As with most fire exits, it was alarmed with a simple – almost primitive, Calypso though scornfully – circuit. The door contained a segment of the circuit. If the door was opened, the circuit was broken and the alarm tripped. Or something like that, Calypso thought. Anyway, all she needed to do was bypass the bit of the circuit that ran through the door.
Calypso quietly and deftly ripped out the wires from the wall, and, with a small pocketknife, started scratching away at the old plastic insulation, an easy task made difficult by the need for silence and the huge coat she was wearing.
Damn the wards, Calypso thought angrily as she painstakingly worked away at the yellow plastic. The wards set upon the Convent would only permit magic performed by allocated wands. She couldn't even do her 'thoughtmagic' – the stuff without wands. It would be a few seconds work if I could just use magic, she thought bitterly. But a few minutes later, she was done. Calypso carefully brought out a piece of wire that she had ripped out of her beside lamp (which didn't work anyway) and wound the ends of the copper insides around the wire she had just exposed. Grabbing two pieces of tinfoil she had snuck off the dinnertable, she used the small squares to hold the wire firmly to the circuit.
Calypso took a step back, and pushed a sweaty strand of blonde hair off her face.
It looked right. It should work, she told herself unconvincingly. Should being the operative word here. Biting the inside of her lip, she put her pocketknife away and without stopping to reconsider, she placed her hand on the doorknob, closed her eyes and pushed it open a fraction.
Nothing happened.
Calypso opened one eye hesitantly, and then the other, a huge grin spreading across her whole face. She could already hear the wind howling past the door, and it was an effort to hold it steady, not to let it blow open. Carefully, inch by inch, she opened it enough to let herself squeeze through into the cold winter's night, and, jamming a rag in the door, shut it behind her.
Monahan sat up, blinking, his quill leaving annoying little dots of ink on his otherwise spotless piece of parchment. A small chilly breeze ran across the back of his neck, but he ignored it, and bent back over his laborious work.
###############
"Oh, would you look at that." Neil breathed as they watched as the fire exit door edged open, and Calypso fugitively slipped out of the building onto the fire escape.
Calypso moved cat-like up the metal staircase, oblivious to the multiple eyes that tracked her every move.
"That's it." Sirius said suddenly. And before anyone could stop him, he Apparated off the rooftop.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
Calypso finally emerged onto the roof, and her breath was taken away by the howling wind. She crawled along the tiles to reach the smoking chimney, and huddled miserably against the hot bricks, zipping up her thick jacket.
Sighing morosely, she ran her fingers through her hair, long blonde tendrils whipping about her head in the wind, and pulled the thickly lined hood over her face.
At the very, very least, Calypso thought, the music was good. She turned her eyes to the apartment across the road, and smiled appreciatively. Loud and angry. Just the sort of music she felt like at the moment. Still, she felt sorry for the poor neighbors. It was the early hours of the music, and the party across the street showed no signs of slowing down. Drunken couples stumbled around, laughing and bellowing, or just making out. The sight of so many people her age having fun sent Calypso into immediate depression.
She dug her hand into her pocket, and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a hot pink lighter. Fishing out a smoke, she put it in her lips and with numb hands, tried to light it, with no success.
"Light it inside your jacket." A helpful voice piped up from further along the roof.
Startled, Calypso dropped the lighter, and it clattered down the tiles to land in the gutter. Quickly, her hand dove into her sock, and she pulled out a small, sharp razor blade.
Eyes open with fright, she sat still, melting into the chimney as best she could. Her eyes darted all around the deserted, windswept rooftop, finding nobody. Her bottom lip quivered, and she quickly bit it to hold it still.
She sat there for what seemed like eternity, not daring to move, her heart thudding away like a jackhammer, threatening to tear it's way out of her ribcage.
Finally, she could stand it no more.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice, she was annoyed to hear, shaking, terrified.
There was a pause.
"Guess who."
The words sent electric currents of fear reverberating through Calypso.
Shit. Shit shit shit shit. She though.
"I despise guessing games." She said back, struggling to keep her voice controlled. The last thing she wanted was it to come out in a squeak.
The voice ignored her comment. "Well, I'm incredibly gorgeous, talented, witty, smart, lusty, have a body to die for, and, oh, did I forget, incredibly vain?"
"Oh please." Calypso retorted. "How can I be in two places at once?"
There was another pause, filled by the screaming music from the party over the road.
"Who are you, asshole?" Calypso tried again, this time with more confidence. As she spoke, she started moving, keeping low to the ground, over to where she had heard the voice. Every noise made her jump, and she nearly gave herself an aneurysm when one of the drunken louts across the street discovered what fun it was to chuck empty beer bottles from the third story onto the street.
"Can't you tell?" the voice said blandly.
Calypso wheeled back around to face the phantom voice.
"No." she said angrily, the fury and fear building up inside her skull.
"Now tell me who the fuck you are!!!" the last words came out in a hoarse scream born of desperation and terror.
There was an incredibly still silence. Even the music over the road was between songs.
Then…Calypso saw something shimmer as an Invisibility Cloak was pulled off.
Sirius Black.
"Hello Calypso." He said pleasantly, his face expressionless.
Calypso was numb with amazement.
Finally her brain whirred into gear.
"Don't you take another step or you'll fry like barbequed Unicorn." She hissed.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
"Yes, of course I'm looking. Problem is, we don't get much time off. We are battling an ancient evil force threatening to take over the world here, remember?" Ben said into the telephone receiver.
He rolled his eyes as he listened to the answer.
"Look, I'm doing what I can, okay? Starting tomorrow, me an' Kev have got a week off. I'm going to hunt around Diagon Alley, see if there's any gossip, and if not, I'll have to go to the Ministry."
"Not to bad, considering we are incredibly understaffed, outclassed and outnumbered." There was a pause.
"Nah, nah. Look," Ben said quickly, aware of the man impatiently clearing his throat in the queue for the telephone, "I've gotta go. Now, you said Calypso said to you that she was staying with a wizard by the name of Wemus? Definitely Wemus? Or d'ya rekon it'll be spelt Wemis? First name or last name? These Englishmen have weird-as names, you know." Ben scowled into the phone at the answer, which was inconclusive.
"Say hi to all the others. Yeah yeah. And all that lovey-dovey stuff too." Another pause, then
"See ya later Ian. Try not to get eaten by a Dragon, won't you?"
Ben dropped the receiver back into it's cradle, and, wrapping his coat tighter around his body, stepped out of the red telephone box and into the cold night air. With a perfunctory nod to the man waiting, Ben scurried across the street back onto the warm, welcoming Leaky Cauldron.
Inside, it was noisy and the old barman was doing a roaring trade. Ben squeezed his way past wizards, who ignored him, and witches, who gave him sly looks. One old hag even pinched his bum. Startled, he scurried on further out of her grasp, all too aware they were laughing at him.
Ben was relieved to reach the other side of the pub and slipped back into his seat around the table in the very corner. He dragged his heavy coat off and looked around the others seated at the circular table with an infectious smile.
"Right. Who's dealing?" he asked, clearing away a few dirty glasses to make a small space in front of him.
"Charmaine is." Will replied, handing her the deck. "So, how is it at home?"
"Oh, fine. Ian got hexed again by some American Tourist trying to get a scale off one of the Opaleye Dragons."
"Again?" Dmitri repeated, pushing his glass away and cracking his knuckles as Charmaine deftly dealt cards around the empty mugs, tankards and cocktail glasses. Dmitri, Ben had learnt, was a mean card player.
"Oh, yeah, it happens all the time." Ben replied, picking up his hand. Bugger.
"Tourists think a lovely souvenir would be a shimmerey Opaleye scale to show all their friends back home and hang over their mantelpiece. Only thing is, they have to pluck it off the dragon. Ian spends most of his time dragging Tourists away from the Dragons before they are dinner. They're not very appreciative, though. And talking about not being appreciative, who dealt this bloody awful hand?"
"I did. Any problem with it?" Charmaine asked maliciously.
"Nope. None at all." Dmitri said, with a satisfied glint in his eyes.
"No, it's just fine Charmaine." Phillip added with an equally satisfied expression.
Ben sighed. "Either you guys are conspiring against me, or…"
"…you're just a terrible card player." Charmaine finished for him.
Ben thought for a few seconds. "Yes, perhaps that. Phillip, your start."
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
While Ben was getting soundly thrashed at Poker by the other Apprentices, Sirius was freezing, standing on the roofs of windswept Cumberland Street, trying to imagine what barbequed Unicorn would taste like.
"Is that a threat?" he asked carefully, wishing he could see Calypso's face under that hood.
"No." she replied. "It's a warning."
Sirius didn't move.
"I mean it, Sirius. Take a bloody step back." Calypso said with a dead voice.
Sirius had opened his mouth to ask why, when Calypso turned to look at the riotous party across the road.
Everyone had joined in the fun of hurling beer bottles out onto the street, and glass was raining down on the street three floors below. As Sirius watched, one rather muscle-bound lad ran up, full beer bottle in hand, and hurled it across the street. It looked like it was going to clear the Convent, when suddenly, there was a horrible noise, like water on electricity, and the bottle disappeared in mid-flight.
From the point where the bottle had previously been, green lightning bolts ran out in a sheet, encircling the Convent, dying finally right in front of Sirius' nose.
He took a hasty step back, sweating.
"Gonna follow my advice now?" Calypso snarled.
'What the hell was that?" Sirius asked, flabbergasted.
Calypso didn't reply, but walked down to the gutter and fished out her hot pink lighter, and returned to sit down about two meters from Sirius.
"A Spellshield." Calypso mumbled, her cigarette between her lips again. She bent over, hood touching her knees, and Sirius could tell from the grinding of the lighter, she was lighting her cigarette.
"That's a damn powerful Spellshield." Sirius said into the howling wind, racking his brains for something to say.
"Mmm-hmmm." Calypso replied, staring off into space and taking a long, hard drag on her fag.
There was a long pause, in which Sirius felt very awkward.
"I didn't know you smoked." He said dumbly.
Calypso didn't look at him. "I didn't. Not until I came here. Only people with serious personality problems, or under lots of stress and danger take up smoking."
"So…which one are you?" Sirius asked.
"All of the above." She replied.
Not the best start, Sirius old boy, he told himself
"So, er, what are you doing up her at this time of the morning?" he asked with a jaunty smile.
Calypso breathed out a lungfull of smoke, and turned to face Sirius with a half-smile on her face. Well, it looked like a half-smile. With that heavy hood Sirius couldn't quite tell.
"I could ask the same thing about you." She said in a low, but amused voice.
She took another drag, and to Sirius' surprise, started to talk.
"I can't sleep. Inside this Spellshield," she made a wild gesture with her cigarette, "they've got wards up. No magic can be done apart from with some wands specially designated. All the other Death Eater's wands." She took another puff from her cigarette, and Sirius sat down warily.
"I can't sleep 'coz every time I drop off, my dreams are filled with static. It's all my prophecy dreams being scrambled by the wards. I get headaches all the time when I should be having visions. I feel like shit." The words started rushing out, angry and suppressed.
"And do you know what the worst thing is? I can't even talk to that parasite in my head anymore. I mean, I hated her so much, even told her I'd get an exorcism, and now when I finally get rid of her, I'd do anything to hear her bitching at me. Isn't that sad?"
Sirius didn't reply. But it didn't matter, Calypso was still ranting on.
"So, anyway, that is why I'm up here. And there are smoke alarms down in our rooms, so I have to come out here to have a smoke.
Beside, I seem to have this curious affinity with rooftops. At home, I have a deck chair on the roof. On clear nights, I drag my telescope up there and just sit and watch the sunset, and they look at all the stars come out to play. Tranquil."
She turned to face Sirius. "So, enough about me, how about you? What are you doing here?"
"Scouting out the place." Sirius replied.
Calypso shrugged. "How'dya find it?"
"Angelina saw you on the way to her computer classes." Sirius said carefully.
Calypso snorted with disgust. "They were lazy with the Spellshield. Muggles can't see in, but other wizards can. They said there was no reason that any wizard would be walking down Cumberland Street and suspect anything." She took another drag of her cigarette, it's lit end glowing red ominously.
"So, anyone else with you?" she asked, seemingly bored.
"Yeah. Over on the roof there, is Dumbledore, Neil, Angelina, Remus and Snape."
Calypso stared over where he pointed. Dressed in dark robes, they were hard to distinguish from the night sky, but she soon spotted Dumbledore's white beard and Snape's pallid skin. She stared at them.
"What's up?" Sirius asked.
"I don't know whether to wave, or to pull the fingers, actually." Calypso said with a trace of mirth.
*****************************************
An argument was braking out where Calypso was looking.
"We should split. Now. Before they're onto us." Snape hissed.
"No, wait." Remus argued back. "Sirius is talking to her. We need the information."
Snape turned on him, eyes blazing. "Have you not listened to a word I have said? She is a Death Eater. Do you want that spelt out, Lupin? D-E-A-T---"
"Leave if you want to, Snape." Dumbledore snapped. "It would probably be a good idea. If you were spotted, it is more serious than if we were."
With a last, angry look at Remus, Snape stalked off to grab his broom.
Angelina looked desperately around the huddled group.
"Dad? What's going on? Is Calypso a Death Eater…" she asked hesitantly.
Neil looked at the opposite rooftop.
"I guess that's what we are going to find out." He replied stonily.
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
"Calypso, I need to know something." Sirius said urgently.
"Fire away." Calypso said with a heavy voice.
"What side are you on?"
Sirius listened intently for the answer, but could only hear the howling wind and the music from the party.
"D'ya feel like rephrasing that question?" Calypso eventually replied.
Sirius was confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well, how about asking me what side I'd like to be on." Calypso still stared into the sky.
Sirius thought about this remark for a while. "Okay, which side would you like to be on, Calypso?"
"Neither."
"Uhhh…what do you mean by that?"
Calypso turned to glare at him. "What I mean is, I want out of this whole situation. I want to walk out of the front door of the Convent, and walk away. Far away. Jamaica, maybe. Or some little deserted island somewhere where they have never heard of Lord Voldemort. So I can just live my life normally. Don't you get it? I don't want to be on any side." She spat with venom.
Sirius was momentarily shocked. "But…" he started.
Calypso took another drag of her cigarette. "You thought I was a spy, huh? Infiltrating the Phoenixes and then coming back home to Mummy and Daddy? Well, let me tell you how wrong you are, shall I?
I hate every person in the building. Every single one. Including my – no, especially my frikking parents. The only, only reason I am stuck here is because they all think I'm loyal to them."
"Then how did you get here if you don't want to be a Death Eater?" Sirius snapped back.
"On the bus. There was one other person on the upper deck. Marion. She just Stupefied me, and took me here. So when I woke up, I had to invent this huge pack of lies to cover myself." Calypso turned to gaze into Sirius' eyes bleakly.
Sirius looked back into the shadows that concealed her face, and saw sad eyes glinting in the miserable moonlight.
"You're not the same girl I led down to Remus' house this summer." He said suddenly, surprising even himself.
Calypso looked at him sorrowfully. "No I'm not." She agreed, and turned away.
They both listened to the yelling from over the road, where Noise Control had turned up.
"They are going to kill me. I don't know when." Calypso said clearly.
"Why?"
"They don't believe my story. Well, my parents do, but they'll soon take off their rose-tinted glasses. The others, though…they all hate me. Suspect me." Calypso hugged her knees. "They'll see the holes in my story soon. And there's enough of them! But that isn't the biggest problem." Calypso looked back at Sirius, and suddenly grinned.
"You're gonna love this. That day we were in Diagon Alley, me and Angelina? I emptied the Death Eater's bank account and put it all into Gringotts under my name."
Sirius looked at Calypso carefully. "How much money was in there? And where did it come from?"
"Political assassinations. Illegal gun shipping. Drug running is also very profitable. Ransom. And lots of other things. How much?" Calypso snorted. "Enough to bankroll a Terrorist Organization. Anyway, when they finally go to withdraw some money, the pretty little bank teller behind the counter is going to say, 'Oh sorry sir/madam, but your account was closed on whatever day by a lady by the name of Calypso Ann Grey.' Does anyone else here see a problem?"
"Oh Calypso. You are in big shit." Sirius said dumbly. "Why did you close the account in the first place?"
Calypso ground the butt of her cigarette out on the roof tiles. "Because, you idiot, I didn't ever think I would end up in this situation! I didn't ever expect…" Calypso was cut off by Sirius.
"Then why don't you just walk out the front door and join us then?" he asked simply.
Startled, Calypso looked up at him, her mouth hanging open.
"D'ya want to know why?" she said eventually.
Sirius nodded.
" I can't walk out the door. I think that's a very good reason. I'll end up as barbequed Unicorn, same as if you tried to walk in here. Anyway, why would you want me back?" Calypso snapped defensively as she dug around in her pockets, pulled out another cigarette and begun to work the lighter.
"I've read the Ministry report on your life, Calypso." He said.
Calypso dropped the lighter again.
"Shit!"
Sirius didn't know if she was swearing at him or the lighter, which had bounced into the gutter again.
Sirius watched as she rescued the lighter from the rubbish-filled gutter.
"So, I bet you found that interesting reading." Calypso said sarcastically as she resumed her seat next to Sirius and tried to light her cigarette yet again in the fierce westerly.
"Yeah, I especially liked the bit where even though you'd been brought up by Death Eaters, you turned them all in when you were seven. I like stories where good prevails." Sirius replied calmly.
"Well, I though the most interesting bit was where I killed four people." Calypso replied with a snarl. Sirius flinched.
"But actually, they got it wrong." Calypso added, knocking more ash of her smoke. "I murdered seven."
Sirius didn't know what to say.
"That's one for every year I lived. Isn't that a coincidence?" Calypso added.
For a while, they both just sat there on the cold tiles, shivering and watching the thin grey smoke from Calypso's cigarette wind in spirals up into the air, then be scattered instantly by the wind.
Finally, Sirius spoke into the night air.
"Calypso, you did those things when you were seven. Seven! Dumbledore said a long time ago to you that your past didn't count, it was what you do in the present that matters, or something along those lines. Remember?" Sirius urged her. "In St. Mungo's?"
Calypso suddenly froze, and took her cigarette from her mouth.
"What're you saying, Sirius?" She asked carefully, turning to face him.
Sirius blinked. "Well, according to me, you're still a Phoenix. We can bust you out of here." Sirius said rashly.
For a fleeting second, Sirius though he saw a glimmer of hope and delight in Calypso's shadowed eyes. "Don't you think you should be talking with the others before promising crazy things like that, Sirius? For some little reason, I don't think Snape and McGonagall will support you in this one. They hate my guts." She said energetically.
Sirius flipped a hand absently. "I'll win them over." He promised.
Calypso giggled. "And how do you propose to do that?"
"With my infallible charm and sex appeal, of course!" Sirius replied, and Calypso snorted at him.
"Sirius Black, the boy who never managed to grow up." she said, and suddenly her eyes grew wide and she stared at Sirius with a look of fascination.
"What?" Sirius asked, unnerved.
Calypso snapped out of it. "Oh…nothing." She said vaguely, but Sirius knew it wasn't nothing.
"So do you want to?" Sirius asked, reverting back to the topic at hand.
Calypso looked confused. "Want to…?"
"Join us. Again." Sirius said coaxingly. "C'mon!"
Calypso did some fast thinking.
"Tell you what…I've already hooked up a plan to get out of here. Look, I don't want any of you Phoenixes to get hurt. If that one doesn't work, I'll get you to help." Calypso said brightly.
"So, what's you plan?" Sirius asked curiously.
Calypso just smiled secretly, and then to Sirius' surprise, rolled over to crawl right up to the Spellshield.
"Sirius…" she said eagerly.
"Yeah?"
"Do you seriously mean it? Me rejoining the Phoenixes?" she asked.
"I'll do my best. Can't promise any more than that." he said fairly, and watched moonlight glint off the lipgloss on Calypso's huge smile.
"Call it a deal." She said vehemently, and Sirius grinned back.
As he smiled at Calypso, Sirius suddenly caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.
"Calypso! DUCK!" he yelled instinctively.
She didn't hesitate, and threw her body to the side as a voice called, "Avada Kevadra" and a bolt of green light streaked through the air, smashing into the Spellshield right between Sirius' eyes.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Azkaban was quiet.
It usually was what one could describe as being 'deathly still', but this day it was even worse.
Not a single moan or scream broke the oppressive evil air. A chilly wind swept through across the moat, through the drawbridge and into the courtyard, where Cornelius Fudge was standing, the hairs on his back standing up.
It was past two in the morning, and still he had heard no answer from the Dementors.
He wrung his hands, and then wiped the cold sweat into his green pinstriped cloak nervously. His whole career depended on this.
The Dementors on Devil's Island had deferred to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and Fudge shuddered at even the thought that the same thing might happen in Azkaban.
Spicier, the only Human Warden at Azkaban, shuddered as well.
They were alone in the courtyard, but surrounding them past those thick walls, were the most dangerous contemporary Wizards Fudge could ever meet. He turned to Spicier.
"What's the chances, old boy?" he said jokingly. "Care to wager a few sickles on it?" trying unsuccessfully to make their deathly situation into a joke.
Spicier turned to look Fudge up and down.
Idiot, he thought. "M-mmmph." He said in that exasperating Scot manner.
Conversation died.
Further away, a tiny, scribbled note was being passed around from cell to cell inside Azkaban. Even the inmates so crazed by their torments they could not read it's loopy scrawl would be told in hushed voices by other Death Eaters later that day.
###########################
He could have sworn his heart had stopped beating. The Killing Curse lingered on the Spellshield, burning bright green into Sirius' retinas. So this is what James and Lily saw last, he thought crazily.
A shriek brought him back to the present.
A tall, lean man had appeared from behind a chimney and without warning, had cast the spell straight at Calypso's back. She had rolled away in the nick of time, but the next hex he cast, the Cruacis Curse, had grazed the side of her left arm.
Calypso was still rolling down the side of the roof, clutching her arm when the man lowered his wand and stepped over her, his black robes billowing ominously in the wind and playing with his wand idly in his fingers.
"My, my, my, Calypso. You sure have fallen into that rather large hole you dug yourself." He drawled, sounding sadistically amused.
"And right now, I'm going to fill it in."
He raised his wand and pointed it straight at Calypso, and without any sign of remorse, uttered the incantation. "Avada Ked-"
He was cut off chokingly as Calypso lifted a foot and booted him right between the legs.
Monahan gave a scream rather identical to Calypso's as he doubled over in pain, and Calypso scrambled madly to her feet, still clutching her cursed arm, which was twitching madly.
Monahan looked up through tears of pain to see Calypso furiously kick his kneecap in. He fell over at the same time Calypso did, his wand spinning wildly out of his hand and skittering on the tiles to land in the clogged up guttering.
Sirius got his senses back together, and stood up desperately. He had never felt so helpless in his whole life.
"Calypso, GET UP!" he yelled furiously.
Calypso thought her arm was going to rip itself away from her torso. The pain was so intense, it was delectable almost. Exquisite. Pain rising like a milky white mist started to cloud her eyesight, but she saw vaguely Monahan stand up, fury twisting his face. He reached out a hand to grab her…
He's going to kill me. Right here, right now, she though suddenly, and she started to panic.
A large hand grabbed the front of her jacket and she dazedly was dragged to her feet.
"You little bitch." He snarled, and slapped her across the face.
It was his mistake. The stinging backhand cleared the mist from her veins and replaced it with cold, calculated anger. I don't want to die today, she thought clearly.
Calypso jumped up off the ground and planted both feet firmly in Monahan's stomach and pushed back as hard as she could.
His face looked firstly confused, then shocked, and then pained as she knocked the wind out of his lungs, he stumbled back and the domes on her jacket gave way and she ripped her way free, leaving him with a handful of black coat. As he struggled to regain his balance on the sloped roof, she dug into her sock and pulled out the razor blade she kept for situations such as this.
From her crouching position, she leapt at him.
Monahan was expecting this, however, and grabbed her wrists as she slashed at his throat, pulling her aim high. The razor sliced deeply across his cheek and nose instead, and squeezing her wrists bone-crunchingly hard, Calypso gave a squeak and dropped the razor from her nerveless fingers.
Calypso struggled like a wildcat, but was no match for Monahan when she was only able to use one arm. Monahan grabbed her with both hands around the throat, and started, slowly but surely, strangling her.
Choking, Calypso grabbed his brawny wrists desperately and gazed into his cold black eyes.
"You tratiorus little whore." He hissed, with a warped smile on his thin face. "I'm going to enjoy this." He closed his hands tighter, and Calypso lashed out with her feet, her eyes rolling back in her head. Blackness was creeping, pouring into the edges of her vision.
And with a sudden moment of clarity, Calypso realized that her cursed arm was still clutching, in it's painful spasms, a burning cigarette. She grabbed it with her good arm, and thrust the lit end hard into the fleshy underside of Monahan's wrist.
With a bellow, he dropped her, the cigarette still attached to his melted, burning skin. She landed in a heap, taking huge, panting breaths from her damaged throat, her eyes watering.
"GET UP CALYPSO!" a voice screamed at her.
Willing her muscles to work, she dragged herself to her feet and eyed Monahan coldly. He had just managed to rip the cigarette off his wrist, and was turning around to face Calypso when her hand shot out and smashed into the bridge of his nose.
He yelled, and blood poured out of his broken nose.
Calypso felt strange. Abnormal. Distant. She slammed her fist into Monahan's chin, then followed by an uppercut, elbowed him in the stomach, and then swiped his feet out from under him in a series of quick, clinical moves.
He landed with a solid thump onto the roof, blood streaming out of his nose and the cuts of his face.
Calypso stood where she was, blinking.
"Get up you bastard." She murmured in a low, mocking voice. She waited while he scrambled to his feet and rushed at her.
It was so easy. She just kicked his leg out from under him, and aimed his head onto the chimney as he fell.
He hit the sharp edge of the bricks with a sickening crunch, and slumped to the ground.
Calypso just stood there, looking unfocusedly at her handiwork, the wind grabbing long blonde strands of hair and whirling them around furiously.
Madly, she watched the pool of shiny black blood pool around Monahan's steel grey hair, and then run like a waterfall down the tiles, down, down, down, till it reached the gutter and gargled away.
She wasn't sure how long she had stood there before Sirius' yelling finally reached her.
"Calypso……."
It seemed so far away.
Calypso!"
CALYPSO!"
The last one thundered through her eardrums and she snapped around, the world spinning madly.
Sirius stood on the other side of the Spellshield, a look of horror on his dark face, his unkempt hair tossed about.
"Oh my god." Calypso stuttered, and she suddenly collapsed where she had been standing, nearly screaming with the pain from her cursed arm.
"Calypso, who was that?" Sirius asked desperately.
"Monahan." She murmured. "The Dementor-Spawn."
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he asked desperately, not knowing what to say or do.
"From the movies. Jackie Chan; Under Siege 1 the Matrix; Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles; Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon…that one was so cool, especially when the girl goes to steal the sword and she jumps up and does a backwards flip through the-"
"Calypso, are you listening to me?" Sirius demanded.
"Mmmm-hmmmm?" Calypso's mind was still dreamily recovering from lack of oxygen, and all she could think about was the pain radiating from her left arm and her crushed throat.
"What the hell are you going to do now?"
Calypso opened her mouth to reply, but was saved by the fire escape door opening and someone's foot clanging on the fire escape.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Ben tottered up the stairs of the Leaky Cauldron to his (new) room in the South Wing. He seriously intended to go the whole way to his room, but his legs gave out at the top of the stairs, and he decided drunkenly that it was a lovely view from where he was sitting, thank you very much.
He leant his head against the stair rails and looked out over the pub floor.
The band, a foot-stamping Celtic group with enchanted fiddles that played extra loud and showered sparks when played, were still rousing tipsy patrons, who were singing along broadly, the way you do with a few good ales under your belt.
Ben vaguely remembered jumping up onto a table with a middle-aged witch (who, when seen through ale-tinted goggles, was a real looker) and dancing energetically until he fell off onto the floor. By the next day he would have forgotten, but the other Apprentices would endlessly tease him for months about it.
He shook his head – bad idea. The world swirled around sickeningly. He closed his eyelids tight and tried to regain his grip on the present. The band stopped playing for a quick pick-me-up, and Ben could hear conversations from the floor below.
"…so I told him, right there, that I was leaving him, and I just grabbed my wand and walked out the door." One middle-aged witch told her friends tearfully.
"He was a bastard, Vera." One consoled her.
"You did the right thing, love." Another added in honeyed tones.
Boring, Ben thought, and concentrated on another set of voices.
"Those bloody laborers are the slackest bunch of Squibs I have ever come across. A month and a half, and they still haven't got the roof back on. I ask you…" a wizard growled.
"Yeah, still, they have lots of work to do on Diagon Alley. Yours is not the only place needing repairs, Bob." Someone argued.
Even worse, Ben thought.
"…such a slut." A young, female voice said with venom.
Oooh, now here's something interesting, Ben thought, pricking up his ears.
"Call that a skirt? Any shorter and it'll be a belt!" another witch added.
"And if she charms those eyelashes any longer, they'll fall out. Remember Verity Williams in sixth year? Her lashes fell out when she was chasing after Bill Weasley because she overdid it on the beauty charms."
There were murmurs and nods of agreement.
"So who's this hussy chasing after?" one witch snarled.
"That young German in the corner table, but he's left. So now she's looking for free drinks." Ben nearly laughed out loud. After Phillip? Oh, he'd give him hell tomorrow.
"Or maybe she's looking for a free ride home."
"Her place or his?" another added vindictively.
God females were bitches, Ben though. He was sick of this conversation already. They weren't discussing her name or telephone number so he could pass it on to Phillip, and he let his ears slide along to another conversation.
"There is no way the Arrows will beat the Harpies, sorry mate. They simply don't have the technique this year, what with Andrew O'Leary retired and all. The Harpies…"
"Have a weak defense, and have had for the last two years. Craig McMurty will crush them flat." Another person argued.
"…tried for ages, and Theresa is getting quite angry at me. I mean, I wasn't that great at DADA at Hogwarts. I got a C, but only just, and I've forgotten how to get rid of Grindylows. They're ripping up the Missus' vege patch, and she's bitching and moaning at how she can't let the kids play in the backyard because it's so dangerous, and how it's all my fault…"
"Call in Zappemout. The Exterminators, then." Another voice suggested helpfully.
"Nah. Can't afford it, and, besides, the missus will get all angry. I've got to prove to her that I'm a real wizard and do it myself."
"Well, learn how to get rid of them then. Pull out your old DADA schoolbook."
"Threw it away yonks ago." Was the negative reply.
"Well then…why don't you owl Remus?"
Booooring, Ben thought again. He was just starting to listen into a promising conversation on who was offering the best odds on the Harpies-Arrows game when his mind did a double-take.
Remus. Wemis?
Ben listened back to the man with the Grindylow problem.
"You remember him, Pat. Sat at the back of the class? Gryffindor? Top of the class?"
"Ohhhhh." There was the sound of an ale tankard clunking down on the bar. "Luke…isn't Remus Lupin a…a…"
"Werewolf?" the other suggested helpfully. "Yes he is. And a nicer, more helpful, generous wereperson I have yet to meet."
Pat took a long slurp of his ale. "Well, it seems like a good idea. He always helped me with my classwork, but, uh…I don't know." He finished lamely.
"You don't have to see him in person. Owl him, and ask for pointers." The other told him. "He can't bite you through a letter." He added, striking the nail on it's head.
"Oh now here Luke." The tankard banged down on the bar again. "I didn't mean anything like that! I'm as modern-thinking and open-minded about Werewolves as any Ministry Official –"
"Doesn't sound like it to me." Luke said quietly.
Pat sighed. "Alright. Yes. You're right. I am biased. But look at it from my perspective, Luke." He said pleadingly. "I've got four kids. All under the age of six. If, and I said if I happen to get bitten, just maybe, what's going to happen to my kids? You tell me, Luke!"
Luke didn't respond. Instead, Ben heard a quill scratching on a piece of parchment.
"Here." Luke said. "This is Dumbledore's Summer house address. Owl him to get Remus' address – his house is hidden."
There was a pause.
"Thanks Luke. I owe you one." Pat said gruffly.
"Forget it. I just want to be able to down a few good ones with you without you bitching and moaning about Theresa." Luke said good-naturedly.
Pat gave a small chuckle.
"But, Pat," Luke warned him, "Don't forget that Remus Lupin is still that same boy that helped you with your DADA homework. He was already a Werewolf when he tutored you for Charms and let you copy his references for your Transfiguration project. Don't forget that."
The band struck up again, and Ben could hear no more. He dragged himself to his feet, his head whirling, and worked his way down to his room, where he collapsed into his bed, the mirror scolding him with a whip-lash like tongue.
Ben groaned. He fumbled with his robes, and eventually pulled out his wand from his inside pocket and pointed it at the disgruntled mirror.
"Quietus." He gurgled, and the mirror shut up immediately.
Smiling, he curled up on his bed, fully clothed, and fell asleep, with one thing going over and over in his mind.
Dumbledore.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Calypso stood on the roof in mute horror as the figure walked straight up the fire escape and onto the roof. Her mind was jammed.
Sirius, however, had instantly grabbed Harry's invisibility cloak from the ground where he had dumped it and thrown it over himself.
Calypso blinked. What was going on to her? Her brain felt all sticky, all gummed up. She just stood there, freezing cold in the wind, which had developed into gale force, sweeping gusts as a tousled head appeared, one step at a time.
It spoke.
"Hey Cal. What 'cha doing up here? I'm freezing my balls off!" Kerian said jauntily, hugging his jacket, something bulging underneath.
Calypso would have fainted with relief, if she was the fainting sort. She wasn't, so instead she just stood there, slack-jawed, and felt her legs go from underneath her.
Kerian gave her a startled look as she collapsed heavily onto the roof.
"Cal?" Something was not right. He took a few quick steps forward, and then he could see a body lying behind the chimney. He stared it disbelievingly.
"What the hell…?" he began, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
Calypso opened and shut her mouth, looking like a goldfish. "I…I…I…" she said limply.
"Is he dead?" Kerian shot, crouching down beside Monahan's sprawling body, poking his lanky body with the end of his wand.
"No." Calypso answered.
Sirius sat up with a start.
"I just knocked him out. He was trying to kill me, Kerian! Kill me!" her voice was rising higher and higher.
Kerian spun around to stare hard at Calypso's shivering form.
"Did he get you?" he demanded.
Calypso nodded, and held out her arm, which was still contorted with painful spasms.
Kerian go up and walked over to Calypso, sitting down next to her. He grabbed her shaking arm.
"What was it?" he asked gently.
"Crucio." She whispered back, staring at him through teary eyes.
Kerian's face was expressionless, but his eyes were angry. He pulled out his arm, and pointed his wand at Calypso.
Sirius looked away.
"Finite Incantium."
Sirius slowly looked back. He hadn't killed Calypso?
What he saw astounded him.
Kerian had reached out an arm and dragged Calypso into a huge bear-hug.
He finally let her go, and conjured a tissue out of mid air, giving it to Calypso to wipe her eyes with.
"What happened?" he asked intently.
Calypso blew her nose. " I was talking to someone." She replied weakly.
"Who?"
"One of the Phoenixes."
"Which one?"
"Doesn't matter."
"Is he still here?"
Calypso looked over to where Sirius was sitting.
"I don't think so." She said uncertainly.
"How much did Monahan overhear?"
"Dunno. Enough to see it fit to kill me on the spot."
Kerian swore. "Dammit, Cal! Two more days, and the potion is ready! Couldn't you have just waited till you were our of here before you started doing dangerous stuff like that? You promised me, remember?"
Calypso blinked. "Yeah, that's right." She said loudly for Sirius' benefit. "Two more days and me and Fleur are outa this shithole."
Kerian looked at her oddly. "You okay?" he asked with brotherly concern. "Here…"
He raised his wand, and carefully and slowly healed the grazes on her forearms, the long, shallow rip across her cheeks where one of Monahan's rings had caught her as she was backhanded, and finally the cuts caused by the fingernails on her tortured hand. As he finished, he gave her another hug.
"Don't worry, bub. Big Brother Kerian will take care of all this." He promised.
"Oh come on Kerian. You're not my brother." She said intently, eyes flicking over to where she last saw Sirius.
"No." he agreed. "But I do a pretty damn good act at the big brother routine, don't I? Any boyfriends I can scare off?" he said lightly, trying to coax Calypso to stand up.
"Stop fooling around, Kerian. What the hell are we gonna do?" she said desperately.
Kerian scowled. "We? What are we gonna do? You, my dear, are going to scamper back to your room, and dismantle whatever you did to the fire door as you go. Jump into bed, turn the lights out, fall asleep and forget this ever happened."
Calypso scowled back. "What are you going to do, then?"
"Modify his memory. Heal him up and dump him in his bed and turn the lights out. Where's his wand?" Kerian replied, scanning the bare rooftops.
Calypso walked over and fished it out of the gutter, handing it to Kerian.
"Right. Now, get inside and into bed. Leave me to deal with this, okay?" he growled. He suddenly blinked. "Oh, that reminds me. Why I was up here in the first place." He reached a hand into his jacket and dug around the large lump, trying to get it out.
"I was trying to find you, actually. Knew you'd be up here, having a melancholy fag on the sly."
"Bullseye." Calypso muttered.
"Anyway, I know how depressed you've been, living here, so I got you something from Diagon Alley today." He finished, and brought out a round, cream-colored ball of fur from his jacket, and tossed to over to Calypso.
Calypso caught it, startled. "Kerian…what is it?" she asked, holding it up to the moonlight. It was soft, and warm, slightly squishy, and…
"Kerian!" Calypso said with a look of horror on her face. "It's purring!!!" She dropped it like a hot potato, and it bounced down the roof, to land with a splodge in the murky gutter.
Kerian grinned at her. "You were right, it was purring. It's a Puffskien. Though you might like it." He plucked the small magical pet out of the drain and tossed it back to Calypso. "They make really cool pets."
Calypso still looked at the Puffskien with suspicion. "What does it do?"
"Apart from purr and be warm and fuzzy and loveably? Kerian shrugged. "Not much, actually. Apart from pick your bogies when you're sleeping."
Calypso narrowed her eyes at Kerian. "You are joking, of course."
Kerian just winked, and shooed her towards the staircase.
Calypso trotted towards the fire escape, and then slowed to a stop, turning around.
"Kerian…" she asked hesitantly.
"What?" he replied, rolling Monahan's inert form over.
"Why are you doing this?"
Kerian stopped and looked at her, the wind blowing his robes around him eerily.
"B'cause you are the closest thing I have to family, Cal. And I want to see you out of here and safe and happy as soon as possible. That answer enough?"
Calypso looked back over to Sirius.
"Yeahp, I think that answers all my questions."
She turned and hurried off.
Sirius watched silently as Kerian, muttering, healed Monahan's broken nose, cut head and face, mopped up gallons of blood and eventually magicked up a stretcher, dragging the unconscious Death Eater back down the fire escape.
Sirius shook his head. What an interesting encounter this had turned out to be.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
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Notice there's no cliffhanger this time? ;-)
Right, now.
All I ask is one thing. Please review!
Tell me what you did or didn't like. Or what you want to see more of. Request something – if it works into the plot, I'll do it.
So just write a few words, okay? Or drop me a line. Brighten up my day!
Oh, also, I've dropped heaps and heaps of innuendoes and oblique hints and stuff through the last few chapters. I wonder if anyone picked up on them. Some of you already have……….. ;-)
My parents are bitching and moaning to me about how I spend too much time on the computer, and they are talking about taking it away. So write me a review and let me know I'm appriciated. Or detested, whatever.
Luff,
Sorceress.