A/N Next chapter. Please review and tell me what you think. Thanks.
Chapter Five.
The Tale goes on. . .
Louise groaned as a chilling cry pierced the night. Michael continued to snore from her side. She prodded him softly.
"Your baby is crying."
He mumbled, and turned over before continuing to snore. The baby's cry just got louder. Louise grimaced as she glanced at the alarm clock. Three o'clock. The bed vanished from beneath her as she mustered the energy to clamber up. "I'm coming!" She crocked.
She waddled into the small room, and crept up to the cot. The baby, whom Michael had called Hermione, was screaming in her crib.
"Oh sweet heart." Louise said, bending down to pick her up. She sat down on the rocking chair, and gently rocked the lustrous baby into a doze. Her tiny hands clung to Louise's silk night-gown, and her heart went out to the dependent being. She stroked her soft, tufty head and closed her eyes. Michael found her the next morning, still asleep in the chair.
"Louise, don't get too attached to Hermione." He warned her, as they sat down to breakfast.
"Why?" His wife demanded, protectively.
He sighed. "Her real family may come forward to claim her."
"We are her family, and besides she's not a missing item that can be filed and claimed." Louise said, angrily, as she banged his cereal down in front of him.
"See, she is coming between us." He said, softly.
"Hermione needs me more then you do." Louise said, curtly, as she turned sharply and retreated into the kitchen.
His hand went to his head as he pushed the bowl away. For some reason he wasn't hungry.
Murka apparated into the kitchen, almost on top of a sleeping Vodka. She was in such a bad mood, that she kicked it away with her booted foot. The cat screeched angrily as it dashed from the room. She regretted it afterwards. She didn't have a problem with torturing and killing enemies of her master, but when it came to Vodka, she had a soft spot. Her husband was beside her within seconds, far more calm then his wife.
"Did you see Snape?" She asked, it was something that had been bothering her for weeks. Snape had gone missing.
Her husband shrugged, brushing the matter aside. It seemed so unimportant in light of the recent events. Murka felt this too, but talking about Snape meant they didn't have to talk about the pressing question 'what to do next?'
"I haven't seen him for weeks, you don't think this has got anything to do with the Conifer's baby?" She said, pouring herself a drink.
"What?" He said, suddenly, looking up. His wife's aimless rambling had interrupted his thoughts. "What are you going on about now?"
She glared at him. "I was just saying about Snape. . ."
He sighed. "We have far more important things to worry about then him."
She nodded, and swigged the drink.
"Now this Potter boy. . ." Her husband began.
"I thought the Lord said it was nothing to worry about."
"He is clearly concerned, otherwise he would not have brought up the matter. You know the prophecy He talks of, it must have something to do with this Potter boy."
"He'd be about the same age as that girl." She whispered to herself.
"What?" He demanded, harshly. His wife's lack of interest astonished him. If this fell through it meant a life time in Azkaban for them all.
"I was just thinking, they'll end up going to school together."
He smirked at her. "I don't think so. The way He was going on tonight, He is planning something with this boy."
Murka nodded. "He has not asked for anyone's assistance."
"He is doing this himself. And in the meantime. . ."
She nodded again. "I know, I must go and see Peter, collect any information off him. Why he cannot come to us. . ."
"If he is seen any where near us Dumbledore would smell a rat straight away."
Murka burst into a smile. She just couldn't help it. "Was that pun intended?"
"What?" Her husband asked for the third time that evening.
"Never mind." She threw off her cloak, and instead donned a muggle coat. "Why I have to meet him in a muggle pub, I don't know." She sighed. Her wand was removed from her cloak and she stuffed it hastily into her pocket.
"Remember Pettigrew is a slippery character, he'll do his best to tie you in knots."
"I remember Pettigrew being that dense little boy who use run around after Potter and co."
Her husband narrowed his eyes. "That is your one mistake Murka, you underestimate the enemy."
She smiled. "I know what I'm doing."
As she disappeared from the room, Vodka peeped her head back round.
Murka appeared down an alley way just opposite the meeting place. She flattened her hair, and pulled her coat tighter around her body, it was a cold night. She crossed the street, pulled open the door, and walked in.
She shuddered as the noise greeted her. It was the sound of muggles. Her master promised to rid the world of this scum, she reminded herself, as she mustered up the strength to order a drink. She stayed close to the bar, not wanting to 'mingle' with the muggles.
"Can I get you a drink?" Asked an impertinent voice.
Thinking it was Peter she turned round to shout at him for being late. "Peter. . ." But instead a youngish man stood before her. His spiky hair had seen better days, and his clothes looked like he'd crawled out of bed in them.
"No." She said, quickly.
He looked affronted by this blatant refusal. "Just the one?" He wheedled.
"My boyfriend will be here in a minute." She told him, after a sudden spark of imagination. Oh this dreadful pub, she thought.
"Surely he won't object to two friends having a quiet drink?" He insisted.
"I am sure he wouldn't, but I neither class you as a friend, or this pub as quiet." She said, briskly, looking at her watch. If he wasn't here in five minutes she was leaving.
He grinned, not daunted by her cold words. "I like an assertive woman."
She couldn't help a laugh. "You might find me rather more assertive then you think."
"Why not blow of this boyfriend, and come for a meal with me?" He asked. It had always been Vernon Dursley's belief that he could charm the ladies.
She sighed. "No, besides you'll be dead soon." She said, swigging the rest of her drink, before banging the glass down on the bar.
"Here's my number, if you change your mind." He said, scrolling down the eleven digits on a receipt. He hadn't noticed her rather odd remark. She pocketed it to prevent an argument. And besides if he didn't go soon she would have been awfully tempted to pull out her wand. Just being close to a muggle was enough to make her skin crawl.
"Ah, Peter!" She said, angrily, when he finally chose to show up.
"Sorry." He mumbled. "Remus' birthday, couldn't get away."
She narrowed her eyes. "If you find your friends a more important occupation, maybe you are in the wrong line of work." She hated herself afterwards, she sounded just like her husband.
"I cannot abandon them completely."
"They would smell a rat?" She inquired.
He didn't reply.
"So, what news of the Potters?"
"Dumbledore knows that the Dark Lord is looking for them."
She groaned. "How?"
"Dumbledore has many ways and means." He said, holding out his grubby hand.
"If you think you are getting paid for that snivelling bit of information, then you have another thing coming, Pettigrew!" She cried.
He scowled at her. "The protections surrounding him are great. You will not break them." He sneered.
"Your doubts will be voiced to the Dark Lord, I assure you. You know what happens to those who doubt him."
Peter looked up. Enough playing round. He nodded. "Okay, Dumbledore has suggested a secret keeper to safe house the Potter's whereabouts."
Murka smiled nastily, impatiently. They were so close now. "Yes. . .yes?"
He said nothing.
"Who is the secret keeper?" She could smell the success.
"That has not been decided yet."
"You'll let us know?" She asked sharply.
He smiled. "I might do."
She threw a selection of galleons on the bar table. The couple near to them watched them suspiciously. He gathered them up greedily. She leant over the table and grabbed the scruff of his neck.
"Don't play us for a fool, Peter!" She said, menacingly.
"Well, if that's all!" he said, pulling out of her grip. "I think I'll be getting back to my friends."
"Friends?" She sniggered, cruely. "You are planning to betray them to the most powerful Lord our world has ever seen. And you still class them as friends? Interesting." She said, swigging down the rest of her drink.
He scowled at her as he marched from the pub.
She gathered up her things, and followed him, apparating from the darkened alley to her own black kitchen.
A/N Thanks for reading!