Seven
Hogsmeade, 1890
Lucie grabbed a tree trunk to steady herself; Apparation had never been her favourite way to travel, and she was still not up to snuff after her tumultous trip back in time.
"Are you well, Miss Nickerson?" Beside her, Albus looked at her in concern, and placed a hand on her elbow. She grinned at him.
"Fine, Albus. I'm fine. I'm just not the biggest fan of Apparation."
"I see," he muttered, although she wasn't sure if he understood her. "Shall we?"
"Yes, please."
They walked the last few hundred feet to the huge, imposing old manor set deep within the Forbidden Forest -- Hogsmeade Woods, Lucie corrected herself. She'd never ventured this far into the forest before, but would definitely have to make the effort if she ever made it back to the future. What a spectacular house! She wondered if the stories were true, if it was indeed destroyed -- what a shame, if so.
Huge, dark and carved from stone, it was flanked with carved gargoyles and other wizarding-related statuary. Beautiful, in a gloomy, gothic way. She'd always loved this kind of architecture, had dreamed of owning such a house someday. The gloominess was offset by a roaring, crystal-clear stream rushing behind the grounds, and the twisted, mysterious garden behind the manor, populated with a fantastic array of knotted trees and colourful flowers. It looked like a garden that she'd like to explore, to sit on one of the gargoyle-decorated stone benches with a good book. It appealed to her immensely. More than ever, she was curious about this Lazerus Grindelwald. Anyone with a garden like this couldn't be all bad.
"Miss Nickerson," Dumbledore whispered, pausing before they reached the clearing. "We must discuss our plans, before we impose on Lazerus. While he is expecting myself, and an unnamed companion, for dinner, we must have a plan before we go in."
She nodded. "Yes, sir. Well -- all I'm concerned with is getting Olsen Carter out of there, safe and sound. As to how to return to my own time..."
"Time travel is -- strictly speaking -- not yet a possibility. But if what you tell me is correct," he sighed, looking anxious, "Then we may indeed have a problem. It depends upon Lazerus. It all depends upon him."
Lucie nodded agreement, worried. She had briefed him on everything that he had needed to know, without revealing too much. Lucie felt that the less that Dumbledore knew about the future, the less that he had to conceal for almost a hundred years. "The trick is going to be convincing Grindelwald to return us, assuming he is still able to." A thought struck her. "You may be the best one for that. He doesn't know me."
Dumbledore sighed. "He did say that he had some new research to show me. Very well," he said, taking her arm. "Let us proceed. Perhaps the way will be clear, as we go."
"Thank you, sir."
"Don't thank me yet. You're not out of the woods yet, Nigella."
"You don't know the half of it, Albus."
"I don't want to know the half of it."
They passed through the elaborate wrought-iron gate ("Goblin-made", said Dumbledore. Lucie nodded, enthralled -- in her mind's eye, she could picture herself in elegant, flowing robes, strutting around as Lady of the Manor...) and they made their way to the front door. The sun was just beginning to set -- they could barely see its red glare above the tall trees. Inside the woods, it was nearly dark -- in the gloaming, Lucie thought, recalling the quaint phrase from something that she had read. It seemed to fit with the odd, entranced, mysterious mood that she found herself in.
Albus rapped three times with the large gargoyle-head pewter door knocker. It made a rich, deep sound on the weathered old wooden door. Lucie could barely hear the patter of little feet from inside the house -- did Grindelwald have children, she wondered, alarmed. That could complicate matters -- she didn't want to risk harm to any innocents, if at all possible.
The heavy door swung open. "Ah, good evening, Fingal. Is your master at home?", said Dumbledore cordially.
Lucie looked around, then glanced down, hiding a smile at the nattily-dressed little Goblin. She'd never been around Goblins all that much, but she'd always thought that they were interesting. As a teenager, the weekly trips to Gringotts with Aberforth were a treasured treat, even more so than the ice cream sundaes that he had always indulged her with at Florean Fortescue's afterwards. The Gringotts Goblins, while a bit brusque, had always been reasonably decent to her. Aberforth had told her that Goblins didn't like wizards much, but they had a real fondness for human children, for some strange reason. One had even given her a candy shaped like a galleon one time, on her birthday. She still had it, somewhere in storage back at the Cape...
"Albus! My dear chap! And who is this with you?"
Lucie swung around, a flush on her face at the sight of Grindelwald. Now that her head wasn't spinning mercilessly, she could take the man's measure more accurately.
Merlin, but he was handsome! The drawing, and the old photograph, had not done him justice. Put aside for the moment that he was possibly an evil, murderous monster -- he was, in her opinion, quite the babe. And there was something...something about him, that made her feel as though she had known him forever. An odd feeling. She wondered about it.
His soft, dark hair had been washed and clubbed back, revealing a lean, well-shaped face with a strong jaw. Those soulful hazel eyes were focused on her, curiousity in their depths, and there was a smile playing around his lips. Lucie looked down, suddenly shy. She couldn't help but notice his clothes -- the rich, soft, dark trousers, polished boots, the butter-soft dark maroon blouse with silver embroidery. He had dressed up for their visit. She was suddenly aware of her own plain dark robe, with dust on it from the streets of Hogsmeade, and wished that her transfiguration skills had been a bit more up-to-par.
"Ah," said Grindelwald, recognizing her. "My would-be captor." He took her hand, and bent low over it. "But who knows?", he said lightly, those dark eyes gazing up at her. "You may yet capture my heart, madam. Such lovely eyes! And such a lion's mane of curly tresses...a name, please." He straightened up, still holding her hand. "I must have your name."
"Now, Lazerus," Albus chuckled. "Must you flirt so overwhelmingly with every woman you see? Allow me to introduce my companion, Miss Nigella Nickerson."
"Nigella Nickerson," Lazerus breathed. The syllables rolled, softly sexy, off his tongue. Lucie felt her stomach turn to water. "A lovely name, for a lovely, lovely lady. Come," he said, offering her his arm. With a slightly-helpless look back at Albus, she allowed Grindelwald to lead her away. "Fingal has prepared a delicious supper for us."
Dinner was an elegant affair. Lucie listened and ate -- the food was indeed delicious, and Lazerus was a gracious, entertaining host. She found that she could barely take her eyes off him. Her opinion of him rose sharply when Fingal assumed a seat at the table. Clearly, Lazerus wasn't too hung up on himself as a big shot, she thought. He treated Fingal as an equal, or cherished friend, even though Fingal referred to him as "Master Lazerus".
"Are you feeling better now, Miss Nickerson?" Grindelwald gazed at her with concern. "Forgive me, but you did seem quite disoriented after your accident today. You say that you fell down a flight of stairs?"
"Yes...er, yes. I'm feeling fine. Although, Mr. Grindelwald ("Lazerus, please", he interjected.) "Lazerus, then. Please, call me Nigella. I must apologize. Albus has told me that I was babbling nonsense -- I am sorry. I do not remember it."
"No matter, Nigella. All is forgiven. As long as you will consent to join us in the library, for coffee and brandy, then I shall forgive you for your incoherent ramblings." Grindelwald smiled, and Lucie felt the floor drop out from under her feet.
Get a grip, DeGrace, she told herself sternly. You're on the job, you're a cop, not a lovesick teenager -- then she realized something. Flirtation may be the best way to get under the man's defenses. Even if she didn't feel very comfortable about it. And flirtation seemed entirely too mild a word for the attraction that she was feeling.
"I would be delighted to join you," she said, smiling. She hoped like hell that she could handle this. Her nerves were nearly shot as it was. If he kept smiling at her like that, she didn't know how tough she would be, when push came to shove.
Build a bridge and get over it, kid...
xxx
Several hours later, they were still in the library, drinking and laughing. Lucie sat next to Fingal, whom she positively adored, and listened carefully to the entertaining conversation between Lazerus and Albus. It was fascinating, listening to her uncle talk of his adventures. Who knew that Albus was such a rogue? She was definitely going to have to have a long talk with him someday. And as for Lazerus -- between his warm glances and his magnetic personality, Lucie felt that she had known him all her life. She'd never felt this way with anyone before. It was a glorious feeling.
"No, no, no, Albus, it was not that at all." Lazerus was saying, a smile on his face. "I distinctly recall that you were the one who was too drunk to make it up the stairs by yourself."
"Ah, but Lazerus, who was it in Paris that made sure you escaped from that rather voluptuous little opera singer's clutches...ah," he said, glancing at Lucie. "But perhaps this conversation is a bit...well." Albus belched discreetly. "Excuse me. Lazerus, my old comrade -- what is it you were saying today, about a recent speaking engagement...?"
"Merlin's Beard, Albus! I nearly forgot!" Grindelwald jumped to his feet, his cheeks flushed and his eyes overbright from the brandy that he had consumed. "Yes! You must come downstairs with me, to my workrooms. I have something to show you."
Finally, thought Lucie excitedly. Now we're talking. She stood, and Fingal rose with her, holding a hand up to her. She gave him a smile and squeezed his hand, allowing him to lead her along behind Lazerus and Albus. With a little luck, we can find Carter, and persuade Grindelwald to return us to our own time, and let Albus deal with the rest of it.
Oh God, though -- how am I going to just...walk away...?
She thought about the photograph in Albus's office, the one of him with Grindelwald. She wondered when it had been taken, for the two men in the picture looked scarcely different from how they appeared now. Albus used to take it away from me, she remembered suddenly. He used to look so worried when I'd go into his office and go right to that photo, and just sit there and stare at it. I used to pretend that Grindelwald was my secret friend, my imaginary friend...why? Why did I do that? Oh God...I need to be so careful...this is all too weird...
They passed through old stone passageways, lit by flickering flames in carved-stone gargoyle wall sconces. It was delightful, and Lucie had to admit that she was a bit jealous of Grindelwald, that he could live in such a place and take it for granted. She'd always liked mysterious, romantic old architecture. She stopped herself from half-forming any more fantasies of the romantic, brooding lord of the manor, or of herself here, as his lady... Olsen Carter, she reminded herself firmly. You have a job to do, DeGrace, and you have a time to return to. You absolutely...can...not...interfere more than you already have. This has got to be fixed, and ended. She sighed. Somehow.
After what seemed an hour's journey (but in reality was just a few moments), they entered a low-ceilinged, dark-panelled room, which clearly served as both study and workroom. It was cozy, and Lucie felt immediately at home. She noted, however, that Fingal immediately went through a door at the end of the room, only to return a moment later. Checking on something? Or someone? She memorized the location of the door, hidden as it was by wooden panels. He had tapped the large knothole on one section of panel, tapped it three times, rapidly, and the door slid open easily.
"And what is it, Lazerus? What have you to show me?"
"The most marvellous volumes, my dear Albus. Pray -- come and see." Grindelwald and Fingal hoisted several old -- ancient, actually -- manuscripts onto the polished worktable.
Lucie was no expert, but the writing certainly seemed to be in heiroglyphics to her, and the books were definitely old enough. She focused on the continued conversation. Beside her, Fingal perched on the edge of the table, pointing out particularly beautiful and intricate illustrations to her. She pretended to be interested in them, all the while thinking furiously.
"...breathtaking, Lazerus. Have you deciphered any of them?"
"Very little, Albus. They are, I must confess, in possession of the darkest of information. But dark magic need not be so, not necessarily!", he cried, at the expression on Dumbledore's face. "I seek only knowledge, my friend. Only knowledge."
"You would not use that knowledge, would you, Lazerus?", said Albus, suddenly stern.
"Of course not."
Albus glanced at Lucie, then asked, "Tell me, Grindelwald. Have you come across anything in regards to that most impossible of occurrences -- time travel?"
Grindelwald did not look up from the book that he was reading, but became suddenly still. His dark hair hung down, obscuring most of his face. Fingal looked uncomfortable.
Lucie, in the meantime, had edged her way closer to the hidden door, by pretense of examining the many and varied prints hanging on the walls. It was directly behind her now. She held her breath, as Grindelwald looked up at Dumbledore. His expressive hazel eyes were wary, almost defensive.
"Of course not. Time travel, after all, is said to be impossible." Lazerus spoke in a flat voice. "Why do you ask?"
"Oh, no reason, my old friend," said Dumbledore casually, moving closer to Fingal. "Only I've heard some stories -- "
There was a charged moment; then, with an expression of putting two and two together on his handsome face, Lazerus straightened up and swung around to look at Lucie --
-- but she was already gone, through the hidden door. Before Lazerus could draw his wand, Dumbledore had pulled his own wand and pointed it at Fingal. The little Goblin stared down the wand, bravely, if nervously.
"Hand your wand over to me, Lazerus. Do not make me hurt Fingal," he said, in a steel voice.
Breathing heavily, and still more than a little drunk, Lazerus stared at Albus as though he'd never seen him before. He slowly drew his wand, then let it drop to the floor. A few bright green sparks shot forth and dissipated harmlessly. "You would not harm an innocent.", he said. It was not a question.
"Not if I do not have to. Do not make me, Lazerus."
A moment later, Lucie returned with Olsen Carter. He looked none the worse for wear, although the bright light of the workroom left him squinting. It appeared that he had been sleeping. "I'm fine," he mumbled, blinking his tired eyes. "I'm fine, no problems..."
Grindelwald went pale at the sight of him. "Nigella --?", Lazerus began, uncertainly.
She pointed her wand at Lazerus. This was too important to trust her shaky grasp of wandless magic. "Send us back, please. Please, Lazerus. You know the spell. It's in your books. Send us back to our own time, please." Her mouth was set in a grim line.
Grindelwald gasped in sudden realization, then reached out a hand to steady himself as he gripped the edge of his work table. "Your earlier words -- at the Hog's Head. They were not nonsensical babbling, then, were they?", he whispered, staring at her in shock.
"No. I was disoriented, but it was you I was looking for. Now send us back, please." She paused. "I'm not from this time, Lazerus. I don't belong here, and neither does this young man. His family is worried sick for him. We need your help to return." She gave him a pleading glance. "Please help us. Don't make this turn ugly."
"Why should I?" Grindelwald was defiant, playing for time. He glanced over at Albus, who was watching him carefully. "What if I do not know how to do so?"
"Oh, you do. Caroline Skyland arrived home, safe and sound." She detected open relief in his warm eyes, and continued. "David Garrett's body arrived as I was investigating the crime scene. I got caught up in the remnants of the spell. That's how I ended up here."
"The boy's death was a mistake," said Grindelwald, sadly. "I used too much power to stun him, and it killed him. I was frightened. Overwrought. It was a mistake which I shall always regret." He sighed. "I had planned to send this young man back to his own time, safe and secure. But I wished to research the spells a bit more, first. I had no way of knowing if the young woman had arrived safely, and did not want to cause any more harm." He hung his head. "Never did I intend to cause harm. I am sorry." He went silent, and Lucie held her breath, watching him.
"But you have caused harm, Lazerus," said Dumbledore sadly. "There will have to be restitution."
"Yes," whispered Lazerus. "Anything."
"Well, you know that the spell works all right. So send us back. Please." Lucie looked at Grindelwald, pleadingly. "Our loved ones are worried about us. And it will be a step forward in your restitution." She stepped closer, and put a hand on his arm. "Please, Lazerus," she whispered.
There was a pause; then, Grindelwald said, "Very well. Stand back, please, Nigella -- I don't dare send more than one person at a time." He picked up his wand -- closely supervised by Dumbledore -- and pointed it at Olsen Carter, who looked terrified. Lazerus muttered a singsong incantation, and there was a blinding flash of blue flame -- and then Carter was gone --
"There," said Grindelwald, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "May he arrive safely."
"Excellent, Lazerus," said Dumbledore, clearly fascinated. "And now, you must send Miss Nickerson back to the same time."
Lucie looked at Lazerus, who gave her a heart-melting glance. "Nigella -- please -- stay --"
She sighed, shaken and amazed at the depth of her feelings for this man whom she had only met today. How were these feelings even possible? It was insane. Besides, she loved Severus, didn't she? "I have to return."
"I will go with you, then." His expression determined, Grindelwald strode over to her. "I have never met anyone like you, Nigella, and..."
"No, Lazerus!" Dumbledore's voice was sharp. "You belong here, in our time. It is too dangerous, too unpredictable, to mess with time! And that shall be your restitution. You shall help repair the damage that you have caused. Now send Miss Nickerson -- "
"Wait," said Lucie suddenly. She hurried over to Albus, and leaned up to whisper in his ear, "Albus -- I will see you again someday. Just remember, though. My name is Lucie. Lucie DeGrace. Tell Aberforth. Tell him I'll see him again. I love you both." She planted a quick kiss on his whiskered cheek, and smiled at him. Dumbledore stared at her, dumfounded.
Lucie took a deep breath, then walked over to Lazerus. "I'm never going to forget you," she whispered shakily, then leaned up and pulled his head down for a kiss. Lazerus crushed her to him, and, for a few seconds, his lips warm and caressing on hers, her resolve wavered. As they broke apart, he reached out and stroked her cheek, wiping away her tears.
"Nigella...my lovely Nigella...", he whispered, his eyes greedily roaming over her. "I will remember you always." Lazerus bent down and kissed her again, more sweetly this time. There was a desperate sadness in it, and Lucie blinked back more tears as she stepped back. Never had anyone affected her this way, this hard and this fast. Not even Severus.
Heartbreak in his eyes, Grindelwald pointed his wand at her and sang that same, strange incantation. Before the violent, rushing wind took her, Lucie raised her fingers to her lips, and sent him a last, small kiss.
Seconds later -- although it felt longer -- she was lying on the cold ground in the woods behind the brightly-lit Salem Institute, aware of someone trying to help her to her feet. A woman was crying. Through her confusion, she dimly registered that her helper was Olsen Carter, safe and sound and apparently whole, and that the woman who was crying was herself.
xxx
Hogsmeade 1890
It was a beautiful, crisp summer night. Simon Nigel-Nickerson found himself standing just outside the village of Hogsmeade. Behind him, the Hogsmeade Woods were alive with a thousand noises of the night.
Before he could set off for the Hog's Head, however, he became aware of someone Disapparating beside him. "Hello," smiled the man, his arms laden with heavy old books. "Nice night for a walk."
Simon stared, his jaw hanging. "Excuse me," he said, haltingly. "I'm...er...I'm looking for someone."
"Aren't we all?", said the man, lightly.
"Are you...are you Albus Dumbledore?"
"Yes, I am. And who are you?" In the moonlight, the man's blue eyes sparkled.
"My name is Simon. Simon Nigel-Nickerson. I'm looking for Lucie DeGrace."
Dumbledore stared at him for a long moment, consideringly. "Well. Lucie DeGrace, yes." Then he smiled. "She's returned to her own time, Mr. Nigel-Nickerson. Nigel-Nickerson," he repeated, his smile widening as though at a joke. "Yes, she's fine. She has returned to her own time. Along with the young man whom she was searching for."
"Olsen Carter?" Simon asked, hope surging through him. "Fantastic! Was he all right?"
"That is correct, and he is fine. As is she. However," Albus shifted slightly, and handed the heavy, musty old volumes to the younger man, making him stagger. "She forgot something. She forgot to bring these with her."
Simon grunted under the sudden weight of the books. "Yes, sir," he said, realizing what they were. Albus in the future had given Simon strict and explicit instructions for these books.
"Guard them well. Keep them safe."
"I...I will, sir. I'll do that."
"Good." Dumbledore smiled, turned, and began to walk back into the woods. "Goodnight to you."
"Sir?" Dumbledore turned back to look at the young man.
"Yes?"
Simon hesitated, then smiled. "Goodnight, sir. I'll see you later."
"Ah." Dumbledore thought for a moment, then cocked his head, his glance polite and quizzical. "Will you?", he asked, finally.
"Yes. I will. And so will Lucie."
Dumbledore smiled. "Interesting," he said. Then he turned on the spot, and Apparated.
Shaking his head in wonder, Simon pressed a tiny button on the bottom of the Time-Turner, and, with a small pop! He was gone.