Hello one and all!!!
Me? I'm peachy. My new job is great, I work 9 hours a day at the mo but get weekends off. Hence all this writing.
On that note, some of you may have been rather confused by a new story I posted, entitled 'The Spying Game." OKAY – It's only the proluge-thingy up at the moment. I posted it because then I had motivation to get the rest written. Unfortunatly, I didn't put an author's note on it saying so – because author's notes like mine are a bad, bad habit and also because I simply assumed everyone would just know there was more to come. Oh well, you live and learn.
Anyway, scroll down, brave reader!!!!!!
CH 14. - RATS!
Calypso sat in the bath, bubbles up to her neck, and looked around cautiously.
No magical objects were to be spotted, but Calypso knew better than to assume that just because she couldn't see them, they were not there.
The Burrow, as the sign by the door had named the ramshackle house, reminded Calypso of the movie, 'The Labyrinth'. Look at it for too long and you either get a headache or go cross-eyed.
From the confines of her bathtub, Calypso listened carefully to the sounds from downstairs drifting up the uneven staircase. A radio was on, nattering about a sale at Quality Quidditch Supplies. Molly was baking – Calypso could hear the bangs and crashes of pots hitting pans, and the smell wafting under the bathroom door was delicious.
Calypso sorted through the multitudes of bottles at the end of the tub, and eventually found a container of shampoo that looked somewhat normal. Scrubbing it through her hair, she pondered her fate.
Her carefully laid plans had backfired. Royally. She wasn't back in Australia. Instead, sitting in a bathtub in an Auror Safe House. However, she'd managed to rescue Fleur from the Death Eaters, and she had captured Monahan. Correction, she thought glumly, Fleur was in hospital, unconscious, and Sirius had captured Monahan.
Rinsing out her hair, she considered her possibilities.
Joining the Aurors – lovely thought, but not practical. She was a Death Eater, for god's sake!
Going home, getting a real job, settling down...Calypso smiled. Life back to normal.
That won't work either. Virginia pointed out crisply. Have you forgotten what you did about ten minutes ago?
Calypso gave a sigh as she realized that Virginia was right. She had become Sirius Black's accomplice in murdering innocent park-goers. Not that Sirius had killed anyone, but that was they way the Muggle Newspapers would see it.
Add Grand Theft Auto to that list. Virginia said. Oh, and kidnapping Fleur. Aiding a felon. Armed Robbery. Speeding. Failure to stop for a Police Officer. Not indicating when….
I get the point! Calypso snapped back.
So that put living a Muggle life into the realm of impossibility.
The other options were slim. Working for the Aurors, or going to Azkaban. And unfortunately, Calypso had no choice in the decision.
Just sit back and relax, Virginia suggested. There's nothing you can do about anything. Sirius will sort it all out.
Hooray, Calypso thought back. My future is in someone else's hands. And of all people, it had to be Sirius.
What's wrong with Sirius?
Oh come on, Virginia! He's the Boy Who Never Grew Up!
And at that, Calypso had a sudden memory flash. A while back...a dream...Peter Pan...
Virginia!
What?
That dream I had! When those cartoon characters shot apples off the top of my head?
What about it?
Those cartoon characters were people! Calypso thought with delight. Peter Pan is Sirius! The Boy Who Never Grew Up! Do you get it?
Yes I get it. Who were the other cartoon characters? Virginia snapped, but Calypso sensed excitement in Virginia's abrupt manner.
Oh…..wait….that's right. Calypso said with triumph. Matt. From Digimon.
Who is he supposed to symbolize?
Remus, I guess. Matt's Digimon is sorta wolf-ish looking. And I guess you could say Matt is a bit like Remus. You know, the solitary, brooding type.
Okay, who was the other character?
Calypso sat in the bath and racked her brains. Vegeta. From Dragonball Z. Then she scowled when she realized whom Vegeta was meant to represent.
"You must be joking." She declared out loud, a look of distaste on her face.
What? Virginia asked.
It's Snape.
What is the problem with that?
Because I think the message of that dream was to trust those people. You know, they did shoot apples off my head. And I don't mind trusting Sirius and Remus, but I'd like to stay as far away from Snape as possible. Slimy cretin. She added.
Virginia was about to reply, but at that moment there was a whoosh and a crash from the kitchen that made Calypso slop water over the side of the bath in fright.
"Muuuum! We're home!" a voice yelled.
"About time." Molly grumbled. "You were supposed to be back before lunch, George."
"Sorry Mum," George said jovially, "But Quality Quidditch Supplies were having a huge sale, and since Hermione, Ron and Ginny all need new brooms, we argued them down to-"
"And where is your sister?" Molly interrupted.
"Just..." George said, and suddenly there was another swish and bang.
"Here!" a girl called. "Hey Mum, just look what I got!"
Another crash from the kitchen made Calypso feel slightly nervous, and she gripped the side of the bathtub, casting a wary eye at the ceiling. What was all that noise from?
"Hello Hermione dear." Molly gushed.
"Morning, Mrs. Weasley." Another new voice said back. "Thanks for letting me stay-"
There was another bang. "Right! Who's up for a game of Quidditch?" yet another voice called.
"I'm in!"
"Bags Chaser!"
"George! Don't touch those scones! Fred! Put those biscuits back! They're not for you!"
"I'm Keeper!"
Crash!
By this time the kitchen was thundering with noise and Calypso was a little more than alarmed. As the crowd in the kitchen ransacked Molly's fresh baking and thundered out the back door, yelling and whooping, Calypso leapt out of the bath, dried herself and put on the clothes Molly had found. The two-tone blue robes were a little tight in some places and a little loose in others, but Calypso wasn't about to complain. Dragging a comb through her hair, she tugged the bathroom door open – it was warped – and descended the stairs.
Molly was tidying up the wreckage that previously was a clean, orderly kitchen.
"Hello Calypso." She said tiredly, uprighting a chair. "Nice bath?"
"Lovely, thanks Molly." Calypso replied, eyeing up the scones.
"Have some food, if there's any left." Molly sighed, and with a whisk of her wand, mopped the floors, which were covered with ashy footprints.
Molly had read Calypso's mind. She sat down at the table and wolfed down scones. The last time she had eaten was at breakfast, and a lot had happened since then.
"The others have gone to play Quidditch." Molly said as Calypso started on the tarts. "We've got a spare broom, if you want to join them. That'll bring the numbers up to eight, so they'll have even teams."
Calypso opened her mouth to say that she didn't know how to play Quidditch, but it was full of raspberry tart, and Molly had already stuffed her hand full of afghans, tucked a broom under her arm and pointed her towards the door.
"They'll be just over that hill, in the paddock surrounded by those poplars." Molly called out to her as she plodded over the lawn.
Virginia, Calypso thought desperately, How do you play Quidditch?
Virginia sighed. Okay. Firstly, there are four balls. The round, red one is called the Quaffle...
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Ron roared around the field on his brand-spanking new Silver Arrow B-series. He zapped past Hermione, who scowled at him, and looped Ginny on her equally new Silver Arrow A-series. George beckoned from the ground, and Ron came to an impressive, screeching halt right in front of him.
"So, what do you think?" George asked, his eyes twinkling.
Ron was momentarily lost for words. "It's absolutely brilliant." He finally managed to say, panting.
"Worth having to use second-hand books all year?" Fred asked, lugging over a large box.
"Definitely." Ron agreed, nodding his head.
"We ready to start?" Ginny called from far up above in the blue sky.
"No." Bill called. "Just wait a little bit more. Ben's got the Containment Spell up, but with some of those poplars blown over in that storm, the Muggle Repelling Charms are a little weak. I'll have them done soon."
Hermione, who was ducking and diving in the air on her new Silver Arrow A-series identical to Ginny's, suddenly stopped and looked out over the top of the poplars.
"Hey!" she called. "There's someone coming. With a broom."
"Oh good." Fred said. "Who is it? If they'll play, that'll make eight, four on each side."
"Don't know who it is." Hermione called back, squinting to try and see. "It doesn't look like Voldemort, though. Unless he dyed his hair blonde and started wearing blue robes."
Everyone stopped what they were doing - Bill, Ben, Fred and George pulling their wands out (Fred and George illegally, since they were still students at Hogwarts, but since when had Fred and George let silly little laws and rules stop them from doing anything?).
"Ben!" Bill called. "Check it out, can you?"
"Sweet." Ben replied, and jumped back onto his broom. He took off slowly, and deliberately flying behind the sun, silently made his way down the hill as the figure made its way up.
Bill, George, Fred, Hermione, Ron and Ginny all waited apprehensively as Ben moved forward warily.
Suddenly, Ben landed and leapt off his broom. Yelling something that was scattered by the wind, he ran full tit at the stranger, who stopped, startled, and then gave a loud shriek and began running at him.
"Uh-ho." Ginny said as Bill shuffled them over to the trees.
"This doesn't look good." Fred said nervously.
"Listen!" Bill barked at them. "Get back home as soon as…" he trailed off. Because instead of engaging in furious fighting with the stranger as they had all expected, Ben had ran into her open arms, and was twirling her around joyously.
"What the…" Bill exclaimed.
"Oh that is so SWEET!" Hermione cooed.
"Like in a Muggle movie!" Ginny added, wringing her hands.
"What do you reckon, Fred?" George asked. "D'ya reckon he knows her?" For at that moment, the pair were crushed together in a smoldering kiss.
"That's interesting." Bill remarked. "Ben's from Australia. He said he didn't know anyone over here."
Ron studied the couple. "Well, I don't know, Bill, but it looks like he knows her pretty well."
"Cut the sarcasm, Ron." Bill moaned as they started trudging down the slope to where Ben and his mystery partner were currently making out. "I get enough from Fred and George."
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Ben couldn't believe it.
What on earth was Calypso doing here? He pulled away from Calypso and stared at her face. Still the same cheeky smile, snub nose and blue-grey eyes. Same kiss. It had to be her.
"Calypso?" he asked hesitantly.
She grinned at him. "Shouldn't you have asked that before you tried to ravage my tonsils?" she asked cheekily.
He considered this briefly. "Probably." He eventually replied. "But think of the possibilities..."
Calypso punched him playfully in the chest. "What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, trying to sound annoyed, but failing dreadfully.
Ben put on his haughtiest look. "I, my dear, am a member of the Australasian Auror Force." He told her before falling back to a grin. "Ain't that a gas?"
"Crikey!" Calypso replied, eyes wide open in fake shock. "Someone gave you a position of responsibility? The world must be coming to an end!"
Ben gave a short laugh, and grabbed Calypso in a huge bear hug, twirling her around again.
"I am SO happy to see you!" He exclaimed.
"And I'm sooooooo happy to see you!" Calypso replied breathlessly as he finally put her down. Catching a glimpse of movement over Ben's shoulder, she wrapped an arm around his waist. "Hey, who are your friends?" she asked.
Ben turned around, and waved to the group. "The Weasley kids, and one of their friends. Bill Weasley and I escorted them to Diagon Alley to do their school shopping."
Several thoughts ran through Calypso's mind, but she only had time to voice one.
"Erm...Ben..." she said awkwardly. "Bill thinks I'm a Death Eater."
Ben shot a quick look at Calypso. "Well, that may pose a problem." He said. "Quick, jump on my back." He commanded, and bent over slightly. Very confused, Calypso leapt up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Why?" she asked into his ear.
"Because he can't curse you through me, can he?" Ben replied logically.
Calypso wasn't so sure. "I don't know. I stand out like a sheet of white paper against your skin and hair. If he's a good shot..."
"Don't worry." Ben assured her as the Weasleys drew closer.
"Hey! Bill! Don't worry, she's a friend!" he yelled out.
"Bit more than a friend, if you ask me!" a redheaded boy yelled back, and was hit with the Jelly-Legs curse by Bill for his rudeness.
"Goodness, Ben, you do meet friends in strange plac..." Bill trailed off as he recognized Calypso.
"Hello Bill." Calypso said jovially from Ben's back, on which she was slowly slipping off. "I'm on your side now, so don't do anything rash like hex me or anything, okay?"
Bill stared at Calypso, and gave Ben a calculated look. "What's going on here, Ben?" he demanded as Calypso lost her grip on Ben's back and fell with a yelp and a thud onto the ground.
Two hands were offered to her as she struggled to get up. Calypso grabbed both of them and they hauled her to her feet. Brushing grass off her back, she looked at the pair that had helped her off the ground.
They were identical redheaded boys. Identical down to the last freckle, about seventeen or eighteen, and were bother giving her matching, mischievous grins.
"Hello," one said brightly, extending his hand. "I'm George Weasley."
Bill and Ben walked off a way to talk in an undertone.
"Calypso Grey." Calypso replied, taking the hand and staring him in a twinkling blue eye. He's safe, she concluded. Trouble, but fun.
"Fred Weasley." The other twin declared, and Calypso shook that hand as well, getting exactly the same message from Fred's eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asked curiously.
"Your Mum told me you needed another person to play Quidditch." Calypso replied honestly. Smiles spread across the faces of all.
"Brilliant!" George declared. "Come on," he said, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her up the hill, "Meet the rest of the team! That's Ron." George said, pointing out a rather bemused, lanky boy standing taller than the twins, with equally red hair.
"This is Hermione Granger," he said as Hermione studied Calypso intently, her masses of brown curly hair escaping her ponytail in the wind.
"And Ginny...where's Ginny?" he said, looking around. Ginny stepped from behind Ron, and Calypso dropped her jaw at Ginny's hair colour. Sure, the rest of her family had very red hair, but Ginny's...
"Eat your heart out, Poison Ivy." Calypso said under her breath. While the rest of her family's hair was red, Ginny sported a dazzling blood-red mane of wavy hair "Did you dye your hair?" she asked faintly.
"I thought that if I was cursed with Weasley red hair, I'd make the most of it." Ginny replied, shrugging.
"Come on, Bill!" Fred yelled behind them. "We've got Quidditch to play!"
Ben broke off his talk with Bill and followed them. Bill still looked suspiciously at Calypso, but trod up the hill all the same.
"Right. Bill, Me, Ron and Ginny will be on one team." George declared. "Ben, Fred, Hermione and Calypso - that was your name, wasn't it? - on the other team. Two Chasers, one Beater and one Keeper."
"I'm Chaser!" Ron called as he leapt onto his broom.
"I am too!" Ginny yelled, taking to the skies with Ron.
Fred turned to Calypso. "So, what position do you want to play? Visitors first." He said courteously.
"Keeper." Calypso said uncertainly, still overwhelmed at meeting Ben. Keeper seemed the most straightforward position for her first Quidditch match.
"Right you are." Fred said. "I'm Chaser." He told Ben and Bill, who had just re-appeared.
"Talk later." Calypso told Ben as he opened his mouth to say something. "I've got my first game of Quidditch to play." And maybe my last, she thought, but didn't add.
You are just procrastinating! Virginia warned.
And it feels good! Calypso replied. And to her surprise, Virginia declined to comment.
Ben looked at Calypso curiously, but jumped onto his broom and flew to meet his teammates.
Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, Calypso mounted her broom like Remus had taught her, and flew up as Fred kicked open a box of Quidditch balls.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Dumbledore drew the curtains carefully back around Fleur's bed and turned to Remus.
"Well, I must say I never saw this one coming." Dumbledore said quietly into his beard.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Remus said as they walked away down the ward, soles slapping on the shiny lino. "That they kept her alive. I mean, why?"
Dumbledore frowned slightly. "Random, maybe." He shook his head suddenly as they pushed the heavy swinging doors at the end of the ward open, and marched through.
"Calypso will know." Remus pointed out, and Dumbledore suddenly looked very serious.
"I don't know what to do with that one." He mumbled.
"What's going on there anyway?" Remus asked, concern in his eyes.
Dumbledore drew a watch on a chain out of his pocket. "The team of Aurors should be there about now. They'll take both Monahan and Calypso." He said as they climbed a staircase and wound around a few corners, ending up in a distant, barely used corner of the hospital. Their footsteps rang eerily in the deserted corridors. Dumbledore, however, knew where they were headed. At the end of a nondescript corridor, he turned to a door and rapped twice. The door swung open, and revealed a man in his white doctor's robes, stethoscope dangling around his neck.
"Dumbledore." He said briefly. "Lupin, come in."
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Voldemort tapped his wand idly against the side of his throne, gazing around the hall in a bored manner.
"It's really not good enough." He said in an undertone, his cold voice slicing through the apprehensive air. "All you had to do was keep Ms. Declaur alive and healthy until the potion was completed, and you couldn't even do that?" Voldemort turned one roving red eye onto Octavia, who was kneeling at the foot of the dais.
Voldemort heaved himself off his throne, and slowly sauntered down the stairs to address his Death Eaters.
"What has happened, Octavia?" he purred. "You used to be infallible. Now you can't even keep a little girl captive?"
Octavia gave a small twitch. "My Lord..." she started.
"I do not want to hear excuses." Voldemort snapped back at her. He paused for a moment, considering something. "I realize there was a level of confusion when your daughter died that assisted in Ms. Declaur's escape. I'm sorry to hear about your daughter. She was a fine Death Eater. Loyal and talented. Great prospects there."
Octavia bowed even lower. "Life goes on." she said in a strained voice.
"Indeed it does." He agreed. "I am a merciful man." Voldemort declared suddenly. "And in sight of your recent loss, I will let this one mistake lapse. After all, it is the first mistake in...what? Your twenty five years of loyal service." Voldemort gave a thin-lipped smile to the kneeling woman. "Apart from getting captured twelve years ago, of course." He added. "Did you ever find out how those Aurors found you?"
Octavia shook her head, still staring at the marble floor.
Voldemort tapped his wand on his thigh, thinking. "Investigate that further. I don't want security breaches again. Now, where were we?" he asked nobody in particular. "That's right. Who was the guard on Ms. Decalur's cell?" he called out.
The rows of black-robed, hooded Death Eaters dared not move.
Voldemort studied them with interest. "Come forth, whoever the guard was." He crooned dangerously. "No need to be afraid."
When it became apparent that no one would own up, Voldemort turned to Octavia. "Faithful lady, it seems that your guard is lacking courage." He said pleasantly. "Would you be able to find him for me?"
Octavia slowly rose from her kneeling position. "I would be glad to, my Liege." She promised, spun on her heel and delved into the ranks of Death Eaters. Brushing past black-cloaked bodies, she suddenly reached out and grabbed the front of a man's robed. With furiosity she yanked him off his feet and hauled him to the bottom of the dais.
"This is the inept guard." Octavia said, and kicked the man in the ribs without remorse.
The man rolled over onto his knees and prostrated himself before an unimpressed Voldemort.
"Have mercy, my Lord..." the guard blubbered.
"I have no time for such a miserable excuse for a servant." Voldemort declared, slowly raising his wand. "Take this as a lesson, my Death Eaters." He intoned to the crowd. "I do not like failure."
"Nooooo! Please..." the man said in a strangled cry, his eyes wide with terror.
"Take it like a man." Octavia said, a look of utter contempt upon her face.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort hissed, and with a flash of green light, the guard's life was snuffed out. His body rolled back down the steps, the dull thwop as his limbs hit the marble echoing eerily around the hall.
Voldemort studied the body with disgust. "Remember this, Octavia." He said to the cold woman. "I let you off easily this time. I will not give you a second chance. Find Ms. Declaur, and either capture her, or kill her. I do not particularly care which."
Octavia bowed again, and retreated back into the dark ranks.
Kerian lifted his eyes from the floor and gazed at Octavia from under his heavy, black hood. She was wearing a cat-like smile.
Kerian shuddered, and averted his eyes from their calculating leader.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Calypso loved Quidditch. Intensely. Why, she thought to herself, didn't she start playing back at home?
She had discovered a few things about herself. Firstly, that she was a passable keeper. Secondly, that she absolutely sucked as a Chaser. And thirdly, that playing Beater was much harder than it looked.
"OI!" Hermione yelled as the Bludger Calypso had just thwacked streaked straight for her. "I'm on your team! Don't hit the Bludger at me!" Hermione ducked the black Bludger and pulled a face at Calypso.
"Sorry!" Calypso yelled to Hermione, who just waved it off.
The problem was, Calypso thought, not intercepting the Bludger and hitting it away from the Chaser, but hitting it in a constructive direction. Still, hitting it was enough of a challenge. Calypso had nearly been knocked off her broom when she swung at the Bludger – and totally missed. Luckily, the Bludger had sailed under her arm, to tail Bill.
Calypso's team was losing by sixty points – mainly due to Calypso's poor playing ability. Yet none of the team begrudged her, and if anything, seemed to find her feverish attempts amusing.
"Want to swap, Calypso?" Called Fred from by the scoring hoop.
Calypso tried to catch her breath and chase the Bludger as well.
"Yes!" she eventually wheezed, and Fred shot away from his position as Keeper and lightly snatched the Beater's club off Calypso.
Thankful, Calypso retreated to the scoring hoop and successfully stopped Ginny from scoring.
Ben was zooming away with the Quaffle when suddenly all the balls dropped to earth.
"What?" Fred exclaimed angrily, until he saw his mother glaring at them from the sidelines. "Oh, what is it now?"
All eight players slowly flew down to where Molly, still in her apron and covered in flour, awaited them.
"Bill, there are Aurors here to see you. And you." Molly added, nodding at Ben. "They want you to Apparate over immediately."
Bill nodded his head at his mother, and disappeared. Ben, however, gave a concerned glance at Calypso. "You sure you are going to be okay?" he asked her.
Calypso nodded. "I'll be fine." She assured him, and he reluctantly Apparated out.
I wish that wasn't a lie. Calypso thought as Molly turned to her.
"Calypso, they want to see you as well." Molly said. "Fred! George! Put the Quidditch balls away and come back home."
A plaintive cry rose from the redheads.
"Muuuuuuuuum!"
"Please, just a little longer!"
"Be a sport, Mum!"
Molly shook her head. "You've been playing for two hours now. Come back home before you get too sunburnt. God knows you are red enough already."
Scowling, Fred and George packed up the Quidditch balls while Ron, Ginny and Hermione collected Ben and Bill's brooms.
"Who wants to speak to me, Molly?" Calypso asked as they began walking (or in Fred and George's case, stomping sullenly) back to the house.
Molly frowned. "Danny Dunkirk. He was the former Hit Wizard Chief – now he's on the Auror Board."
Her words slipped like ice into Calypso's ears.
I'm in for it now. Calypso thought desperately.
Stop being all so melodramatic. Virginia hissed. Get yourself together. They'll probably just arrest you.
Just? Calypso thought back sarcastically.
Molly glanced at Calypso's ashen face. "Are you okay, love?" she asked kindly. Calypso swallowed.
"I should be fine." She said slowly as they climbed the stile over the hedge into the Weasley's back garden, the others tailing behind.
************************************
Small paws skidded along the dirt floor, tiny nails leaving miniature scratches in the compacted dirt. The intruder into the catacombs was a wise, battle-hardened sewer rat, searching for food. He was to be sadly disappointed.
The chamber he had entered through a grill on the surface was bleak and bare. The rat's red, beady eyes ran around the floor, and he raced over to a likely looking pile. Snuffling the dark, rotting pile, he discovered it was only a set of robes, long forgotten. The rat sat on the disintegrating heap for a moment, and looked around.
The ceiling soared above him, and the walls were miles in each direction – actually, the roof was only the height of two men, and the chamber was about 100 by 50 meters, but from the rat's point of view, it was enormous. Water slowly oozed from between the dank bricks, and ran in green rivulets, joining and turning into streams and then rivers of slime and moss down the walls. There were black charcoal streaks over the torch brackets, spaced closely along the wall at head level, but the last time any torches had been lit was over 500 years ago.
Yet over beside one trickling wall, a desk was still standing, a clay inkpot with two ratty quills still propped up in it. A sheet of parchment and an old, leather covered book were sitting peacefully on the desk, another quill lying beside them, seemingly tossed there after the writer had scrawled the loopy message on the parchment. And sitting on the piece of parchment, like an oversized paperweight, was a crystal ball.
It was this desk that the rat noticed immediately – not only because it was the only significant thing in the whole immense chamber – but also because it was the source of the light.
The desk and what lay haphazardly on it was glowing with a mellow yellow light – only slight, but enough in that miserably dark cavern to light up almost the whole chamber, and to make the rat squint.
Like a moth drawn to a candle, the rat scampered off the pile of rotting robes, and scurried over towards the glowing furniture, dodging the remains of a chair, before, trembling, he approached the shining, seemingly humming amber aura of the desk. He flared his nostrils and sniffed – only to smell the musty, dusty scent of the underground hall – and a strange, tangy, electric smell.
Food, perhaps, the rat thought. Sweeping his scaly tail from side to side, he battled his fear of the unknown with his hunger.
Hunger won.
The rat took a mere step forward – and was no more.
There was a slight clatter that echoed tinnily around the massive, wet brick walls of the chamber as small rat-bones fell onto the dirt floor.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Charmaine and Philip were huddled down under a shrub on the outskirts of the Malfoy Manor, utterly cold and miserable.
Philip shot a warning glance at Charmaine as she begun to snuffle. Charmaine quickly put a finger under her nose, but rolled her eyes in panic as the sneeze rolled on.
"Quietus!" Philip whispered, just in time. Charmaine sneezed, but thanks to the charm, the noise was negligible.
Rubbing her nose, Charmaine gave a silent thumbs-up to Philip, who nodded back, and stared back at the sky.
After waiting for a few moments, Philip picked up the piece of parchment and pen, and wrote
What's the time?
As Charmaine read Philip's carefully printed letters, the ink shivered and then melted away. Charmaine took the pen, filled with Weasley's patented Disappearing Ink, and scrawled back
10.13PM.
I knew it was PM.
Just making sure.
Are there any scones left?
No, I ate the last one.
Pig!
First in, first served.
Any Butterbeer, then?
Charmaine reached inside a bag, and rummaged around, eventually pulling out a sipper bottle and handing it over to Philip, who drank from it thirstily.
Heard the latest? About Calypso?
You are going to tell me anyway, whether I say yes or no, aren't you?
She's on trial.
Where?
I don't know. No one knows, it's a closed court. The gossip is that the Auror's board are sorting things out so that they get to keep her.
Keep her? Why?
As a replacement for Trelawney.
So the Aurors have finally worked out that she's as useless as a condom dispenser in Vatican City?
No, Trelawney says that the stress 'clouds her inner eye' so she's leaving when Hogwarts starts again.
Who cares about the reason as long as she's gone!
Hear hear.
Where? I don't hear anything.
I don't hear anything either! It's just a saying.
But at that moment, there was a slight noise from the Malfoy Manor. Charmaine dropped the parchment and quill, and listened very carefully.
There was a creak, a mumble of voices, and a dull thwap as the window was closed again.
Philip sprang to his feet, and was quickly followed by Charmaine as they slipped down through the forest, their black-painted bodies mingling with the undergrowth as they raced the owl over the lip of the hill.
Panting, they reached the clearing, and scouted the dark night's sky for the silent messenger bird.
Charmaine tapped Philip on the shoulder and pointed her wand at him.
"Oculus." She muttered, and Philip winced as his eyes were made super-sensitive. He looked up at the sky – which was now incredibly bright – and easily spotted the dark bulk of the owl winging its way serenely over the stars.
Raising his wand, he tracked the owl's flight pattern for a while, aiming carefully.
"Stupefy." He said carefully, and a green jet of light shot from the end of his wand, and immediately he clapped his hands to his super-sensitive eyes, which had been blinded by the sudden light.
"Wingdarim Leviosa." He heard Charmaine whisper, and, with one hand still covering his smarting eyes, he raised his wand vaguely in the direction of the owl.
"Accio Owl." He muttered, and within seconds, something soft and furry thumped into his stomach.
A hand cradled his chin, and pulled his head around.
"Deoculus." She said, and suddenly Philip could see again. The Oculus charm was dangerous – it gave the charmed person nightvision, but as wearers of Muggle night-vision goggles had discovered, sudden flashes of bright light could blind the wearer. What the pair of Aurors had done was even more dangerous – Charmaine had put two Oculus charms on Philip so he could see the owl clearly. Now, with one of the charms taken off, Philip could look at Charmaine again – before, her skin was too bright to bear, covered in black paint as it was.
Charmaine gave him a double thumbs-up. Clambering up off the ground, Philip scooped up the bundle of feathers that was the stupefied Eagle Owl, and tucked it like a ball under his arm before following Charmaine back up the hill and to their hiding place under the bush.
When they had finally wound their way around the dense undergrowth back to their camp, Charmaine dug into her bag and pulled out a small velvet box, and Philip unceremoniously dumped the poor owl on the ground. Charmaine flipped the box open to reveal a small metal orb. Carefully aiming, she tilted the box and the Portkey rolled out and fell onto the owl, which promptly disappeared.
Philip collapsed under the bush again, and leant against the tree tiredly as Charmaine did the same.
What's the time?
10.22PM. Only another hour and thirty-eight more minutes to go.
Only.
Know any jokes? Good jokes?
A Warlock, a Centaur and a troll go into a pub, right? The Warlock says to the Centaur….
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Meanwhile, at 10.22PM on the same night, Calypso was huddled in the corner of her cell, trying to stop herself falling asleep, and kicking at the rats that tried to nibble her toes.
Azkaban was cold.
Calypso couldn't remember the last time she was so cold. The cruel wind whistled through the bars on the tiny window high up on her cell wall and gushed down, filling her cell and roaring down the corridor, mingling with terrified screams, hopeless crying, mad laughter, and occasionally, from Calypso, whimpering.
She hugged her knees even tighter as a Dementor floated past on the nightly rounds, and she tried to squeeze even further into the corner. The cold, damp stone of the walls dug into her back, but the pain was a relief, a distraction from her mind. For the Dementor had stopped in front of Calypso's cell, and was enjoying the effects he had on her.
For all that filled Calypso's head were memories.
Blood was everywhere.
Kuia dead, cold, killed.
Like a skipping record, the last few images replayed over and over in her head. Trembling, Calypso dug her nails into her legs, and to the Dementor's great satisfaction, started to slowly cry.
Suddenly, she stopped crying and slumped forward on her pallet. The Dementor, used to prisoners collapsing, shrugged and moved on towards the next cell, leaving Calypso dreaming.
She was sitting in a child's sandpit, making sandcastles. With a blue plastic shovel, she heaped damp sand into a bucket and compressed it with a pudgy child's fist.
Upending the bucket onto a flat area of sand, she thwapped it a few times on the bottom before easing the bucket up, leaving behind… Calypso gasped.
Sitting in the sandpit was a perfect model of the Azkaban Prison, complete with ramparts, watchtowers, moat, turrets and drawbridge – all made out of sand.
Yet her dream self did not ponder this, and instead began shoveling more sand into the bucket, and created another sandcastle.
Calypso looked at the two sandcastles produced by the plain bucket. Azkaban she recognized, but she could guess what the other castle was, with its soaring towers, lake, and sprawling halls.
Hogwarts.
Suddenly, another little boy sat down beside her at the same time the sun came out from behind the clouds. Amazingly quickly, the sand started to dry and crumble. As Calypso watched, one of the towers of Hogwarts collapsed, while the wall of Azkaban started to give way.
"No!" her dream self cried, and the little boy stared at her.
"One fortress will fall." He said solemnly. "It is your choice."
Calypso crawled onto her hands and knees, grabbed a handful of wet sand, and tried to repair the damage to Azkaban, and at the same time rebuild Hogwart's towers, which were collapsing at an alarming rate.
The little boy just watched.
"One fortress WILL fall." He repeated. "Choose which one – and you'd better choose quick."
This was true, as the sandcastles were crumbling away faster than Calypso could repair them.
"One fortress will fall." The boy said again.
Calypso woke with a start, and sent flying a rat that was chewing at her hair.
%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
At the same time in the fortress of Azkaban, yet another rat was prowling the long corridors. Yet this rat was different from those also scurrying along the stone floors, for two reasons.
Firstly, this rat was ducking into every cell methodically, spending a few minutes in each, while the other rats randomly followed the smell of potential food.
And also, with every fourth step, instead of a tiny click as a nail hit the ground, there was a sharp, resonating clink.
For this rat had a silver paw.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Judge Lesley Solomon looked over the edge of her half-glasses and stared solemnly down at Danny Dunkirk, the ex-Hit Wizard Chief and now member of the Auror board, who was looking hopefully back up at her.
"You do realize what you are asking me to do, don't you?" she asked tiredly.
Danny nodded. "Your Honor, you've seen the evidence. She's just a confused girl who's made some bad choices."
Judge Solomon sighed and shuffled the papers on her desk. The wig on her head was itching, and she had enough of this whole sordid affair.
"Awful choices is a better description. This is hard, Dunkirk." She replied. "On one hand, she's admitted she's a Death Eater. She's already been on trial for murdering seven people. And on the other, she was under the age of seven at the time. She turned in her parents and the whole Death Eater tribe. Then she saved the inhabitants of Peachgrove Village, the life of the late Mundungus Fletcher, rescued Fleur Decalour, and with the help of Sirius Black, brought in another Death Eater."
Danny tried his luck.
"And she's a true Seer. If she would help the Auror Board as an advisor, it'd be…"
Judge Solomon ignored him. "I do agree that the ruling the Australasian Judge set on her was harsh. Too harsh. You have to pity the poor girl – but she also has 42 Muggle criminal convictions!" To emphasize her point, the Judge rifled through stacks of paper.
Danny bit his lip. You aren't making this easy, Calypso, he thought.
"What more could you expect after being dumped into Foster Care without any counseling! With her childhood! If the Press had got hold of that st…"
"Quiet, Mr. Dunkirk!" Judge Solomon, giving him a cold stare over the tops of her glasses. "We have been over this before!"
Danny shut up.
"I'm ready to make my ruling." Solomon suddenly announced. Danny's eyes lit up. He had been arguing with Judge Solomon for five days now.
"She doesn't deserve to go to Azkaban." The judge stated clearly. "But we can't let her go free."
Danny thought quickly.
"What I propose," the judge continued, "is that she become a ward of Alastor Moody. Moody will be responsible for her, and her actions."
Judge Solomon stared at a shocked Danny. "Is that ruling to your liking?" she said tartly.
"I…I…it seems good." Danny finally said, gathering his scattered thoughts. "Why not Lupin? He is her blood relative, after all!"
"Act 87, section 2, clause 5 of the 1982 Werewolf Rules and Regulations Amendment Act – 'no werewolf shall adopt or become legal guardian for any non-were creature.' I would have preferred Lupin, yes, but it would be against the law. Sirius Black is out of the question. Moody is the next best choice – he's had kids, and he's a strong, experienced Auror with time on his hands now that he's retired."
"Does Alastor agree to this?" Danny said faintly.
"I have already talked to him." Solomon replied curtly.
"So Calypso can still help us?" Danny said, his pulse quickening.
"Ask Moody. As I said, he's responsible for her. In the words of Pontis Pilate, 'I wash my hands." The Judge said, snapping her lawbook closed.
The trial was over.
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Okay, you may have noticed that this chapter is shorter than the last one. That's deliberate.
Chapters will now be shorter and posted more frequently.
Why? Because chapters like my last one slow down my computer when I try and pull them up. ;-)
Kabillion Kazillion thanks to Allylupin, whom by now you should all identify as my marvelous Beat-Reader.
And thanks of course to JK Rowling, who created the HP world in the first place.