Chapter 23
Monday, Oct. 26 – 9:30 am
When the order came across Malcolm's desk that Gringotts had some sort of problem requiring the assistance of an Auror, Malcolm thought it was a joke. First of all, Gringotts rarely asked anyone, let alone the Ministry of Magic, for assistance. Second of all, thanks to the stunt his father and Godfather pulled last Christmas, Malcolm was not on the goblins' list of wizards in good standing right now. Yet there it was in plain sight – an order for Malcolm Lupin to go and investigate an item found in the tunnels of Gringotts Bank.
Since Malcolm knew they were renovating the bank, he could understand that there would be items found in the underground tunnels. He personally had lost many a small toy as a child while riding to his parent's vault in one of the crazy carts. He also knew that goblins were greedy creatures. Any unclaimed item found in their bank was fair game for them to do with as they pleased. So the question was, why would the goblins admit they had found something interesting, and better yet, why involve the Ministry of Magic?
"One of the architects called it in," a voice said, snapping Malcolm out of his thoughts. It was Alais Gobredo, chief Auror and Malcolm's boss. "He thought it looked too suspicious for even the goblins. From what I understand, they weren't too pleased with the fact that he notified us."
"I can believe that," Malcolm agreed. "I have some free time later this morning, or should I get right on it? It doesn't say what kind of an item they have." Malcolm suggested with a hint of a smile.
"You're right. It doesn't sound like any thing of great consequence, but you never know what the goblins have up their sleeves. Just go pick up the thing and get it over with."
Malcolm did as he was asked to do, even though it wasn't something he found exactly exciting. It would give him the chance to stop in and say good morning to Emily in the ludicrous patents office without raising suspicion, so at least that would be nice. With the party fast approaching, he wanted to make sure everything was in order and planned out, especially since this would be their first official joint effort as a couple. However, she was too busy and Malcolm was turned away from her office without the privilege of talking to her. He would just have to wait until dinner that evening.
When he arrived at Gringotts, Malcolm found himself being led from one place to the other with no real direction. None of the goblins seemed to really want to help him find his way around, and with the place under such construction, he was certainly getting lost. It took asking seven different goblins, two humans, and a good forty minutes to get the correct directions out of anyone. At long last Malcolm was taken to an underground tunnel where we was told he would meet the "foreign one", as the second human had described him. The tunnel was dark and uninviting. Had it not been for the sound of voices at the far end, Malcolm would have turned around.
"I said it would take at least three weeks to make that change," the first voice said.
"Then it will take three weeks," the second, more sinister voice said.
"Look, the problem isn't the time! It's the fact that seven tunnels will have to be moved to make room for this one new vault," the first voice said again. This voice definitely belonged to a human, and there was something familiar about it. "What I'm suggesting is that we put the vault at the end of the line where it wouldn't interrupt a thing."
"That will not be sufficient," the second voice, belonging to what Malcolm deduced was a goblin, sounded. "We need this vault placed exactly where we have described."
"But it would be so much easier..."
"The vault stays right here. If you can not make this possible, then perhaps we will have to find a replacement."
There was a pause before the first man said, "No, I'll make it work. But you'll have to give me some extra time."
The sound of footsteps approaching told Malcolm the conversation was over. The tiny goblin passed by Malcolm without so much as acknowledging his presence. When he was gone, Malcolm took a step into the darkness toward the man still at the end of the tunnel.
"Bloody know-it-alls," the man said. Malcolm didn't quite know weather to trust his ears or not. That voice sounded as if it belonged to Liam Zetter, who was supposed to be in Australia. "They might know how to run a bank, but they sure as hell don't know anything about design!"
"Excuse me," Malcolm called out, brushing aside the possibility that the other man very well could be Liam. "Might I have a word?"
"Sorry, I didn't know anyone was there. What do you need?"
"I'm an Auror from the Ministry of Magic. I was sent to look at an item you found."
"Oh yeah, it's in the next tunnel." The man stepped out from the shadows towards Malcolm. "My employers don't see what the fuss is about, but when I saw that..."
The man froze. And so did Malcolm.
"Liam."
Liam took a deep breath. "Malcolm Lupin."
Not quite understanding what was going on, Malcolm said, "I thought you went back to Australia."
"I did. I came back though...for work."
"Oh." Another long pause filled the dark tunnel. "How long have you been back then?"
"Just a few weeks."
It was obvious to Malcolm that Liam did not want to participate in any small talk, but something wasn't quite right about the whole situation. "I saw Roarke on Saturday, but she didn't mention you were back."
Liam looked away. "I haven't spoken to her."
"But she does know you're in England, right?"
"The item that I found is in the next tunnel over," Liam said, changing the subject and walking past Malcolm towards the other tunnel. "It isn't much, and my knowledge of the war against Voldemort is fairly limited, but I didn't think it would too wise to just hand it over to the goblins."
Malcolm followed him around the corner to yet another dimly lit passageway. "How do you see down here?"
"You don't. I think the goblins keep it this dark because they don't want anyone to know what really is hidden down here. I wouldn't have ever found this had it not fallen and hit me on the head." Liam picked up a small box and handed it to Malcolm. "It's got the Dark Mark on it. I wasn't sure so I asked one of the other architects."
Sure enough, it was a small silver box with the symbol of the Dark Mark engraved on its lid. Malcolm ran his fingers over it finding the lid smooth, as if the mark hadn't been engraved but rather was part of the silver. "Interesting. I don't think it's much to worry about, but if you don't mind, I'll take it back to the Ministry to open it."
"I don't care what you do with it. I just didn't think the goblins should have it."
"Probably a good call. To this day, I am surprised at some of the things Death Eaters enchanted and the lengths they took to protect Voldemort."
Liam nodded. "So that's all I needed. Sorry to make such a fuss. I thought they would just send a messenger to pick it up."
"It's no problem, really."
They stood there silently for a moment. In Malcolm's opinion, Liam didn't look too comfortable right now. In fact, Malcolm thought he rather looked like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn't be doing. There were a few questions Malcolm still had for Liam about Roarke, but he wondered if now was the right time to ask them.
You probably won't get another chance. What have you got to lose? Oh, what the hell.
"Roarke really doesn't know you're in England, does she?"
Liam licked his lip looking agitated. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, I think she deserves to know."
"That's your opinion." Liam said flatly.
"Can you at least tell me what happened?" Malcolm persisted.
Liam gave Malcolm a rather hard stare, but that didn't faze him or stop him from continuing. After Tarquin informed him that Roarke still had feelings, deep feelings, for the Aussie, Malcolm spent a good while considering why Liam left in the first place. "I've been trying to figure it all out, but Roarke gives me the same cold shoulder you're giving me."
"Maybe that's because it's none of your business," Liam said with an edge to his voice. He turned away and started back toward the other tunnel.
"That's a good point. It isn't my business...unless you consider that I care about my sister and I don't like to see her hurting."
Liam stopped, his back was still to Malcolm. "What...do you mean?"
"I mean she's not happy. She hasn't been herself for a long time now – since you left – and I would just like to know why."
Liam glanced over his shoulder. "I'm sorry that she's hurting, but you have to believe me when I say things are better this way."
Malcolm noted that Liam's voice had softened. There was certainly more story here than Liam was willing to tell. "Did she decide that, or did you?"
Anger flashed in Liam's eyes as he turned to fully face Malcolm. "Look, I don't know what you want from me, but I'm getting more than a little irritated with this."
"I just want to know what happened."
"If Roarke wanted you to know, then she would have told you."
"Not if she wanted to protect you for some reason."
"And why exactly would I need protecting?"
"I have a suspicion about what happened, but I'm not sure. If I'm right, then you have a lot of explaining to do. If I'm wrong, then I suppose I owe you an apology."
Liam furrowed his eyebrows. "What exactly do you think happened?"
"I'm wondering if you hit her." It was a lie, but Malcolm had to test a theory.
"WHAT?" Liam said, astonished. "Did she tell you that?"
Malcolm shrugged. "She's been quiet, keeping to herself. And seeing at how quickly your relationship ended...and the fact that she refuses to discuss it with anyone..."
"I never hit her! Whatever you may think of me, you have to understand that I would never hurt her like that!" Liam was satisfyingly appalled at Malcolm's accusation.
Malcolm resisted smiling, as his comment garnered the exact response he was looking for. "Fine, I apologize for thinking it."
"Now, are we finished here?" Liam said, anger still evident in his voice.
"Almost."
Rolling his eyes, Liam said, "Good God, what now?"
"I'm just wondering if you have plans for Halloween."
The comment left Liam stunned. "Huh?"
"Halloween. I'm having a party at my flat."
Liam stared blankly at Malcolm.
"I thought you might like to come."
"Are you joking? First you accuse me hitting your sister, and now you want me to come to a party?"
"I was mistaken. I misjudged you and that was unfair. I thought that inviting you to my party would prove to you that I harbor no hard feelings. Think of it as my apology."
Liam stood opened mouthed, looking at Malcolm in confusion. "Is this a trick to get me to talk to Roarke?"
"Not at all. In fact, she's already told me that she has no desire to come. She's been working hard on a case, and with the office closed that evening, she wants to just relax at home. Besides, she said she thought dressing up was a bit silly."
"Dressing up?"
"It's my girlfriend's idea. She's Muggle born and really misses the Muggle tradition of wearing costumes on Halloween. So, I promised her a costume party."
Liam still looked confused.
"Think of it this way," Malcolm offered. "You come to my flat. Take your mind off of work. Drink as much of my alcohol as you desire. Meet some new people. Make some new friends. And I don't feel guilty for accusing you of hitting my sister."
Liam didn't look convinced. "I dunno. I don't think it's a good idea. We don't really get along."
"You don't have to spend the evening talking to me. In fact, I have a friend who sets up the building permits and contracts for the Ministry. I could introduce the two of you. I am sure the connection would be a useful one for you."
Liam pursed his lips together in thought.
"Well, it's your choice. If you change your mind though, I'm at number 14 Grace Street."
Malcolm gave a small nod and headed out the way he came in. Liam grabbed his elbow, turning him back around. "Hey listen, about earlier. About Roarke..."
"Yes?"
"I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything to her about this. I really don't want her to know I'm here. Not yet anyway."
"All right. But I think she'd really like to know you're back."
"Trust me," Liam said, retreating down the tunnel. "She's better off without me."
Now that was interesting. "Better off without me" he had said. Curious choice of words in Malcolm's opinion. If he had interpreted the signs correctly, Liam felt the same way about Roarke that Roarke felt about Liam. The question still remained; why did they call things off? Why would Liam try to avoid Roarke? Better yet, why would both of them try to pretend that they didn't have feelings for the other? Malcolm was determined to find out what was going on, even if it took a bit of trickery to do it.
Saturday, Oct. 31 – 10:00 pm
Against his better judgment, Liam knocked on the door of Number 14 Grace Street. He wondered if he had time to turn away and head back to his flat before anyone opened the door. Truth be told, he almost turned around several times on his way to the party. And even when the door opened and a pretty blond woman invited him inside, he still almost gave up and returned home. Yet here he was. And now that he had been seen by the host as well as a few others, he had better stay at least for a little while. After all, Malcolm had said that there might be someone at the party who could prove to be a good connection in the building department of the Ministry of Magic. Liam reminded himself that this was why he'd come.
Liam tugged his hood down over his face further and hoped no one would criticize his rather sloppy attempt at a dementor. It was all he could come up with at the last minute. He and his friends had all worn over sized black capes one year to the end of year feast at Karákul. Since they were out of uniform, they all got in trouble, but with it being the end of the year no one really cared. The cape was the only thing Liam found in his closet that remotely resembled a costume. Since he didn't favor traditional wizard robes, Liam wore a plain black shirt and trousers under the cloak. The one item that he did have to fuss with was his mask. He conjured a simple looking skeletal mask resembling what he had been told a dementor looked like to hide his face in case the hood ever fell off.
Malcolm made his way past a group of guests to welcome Liam with a handshake. The uncomfortable feeling Liam had in the pit of his stomach grew at the very idea of being in the presence of Roarke's brother. Malcolm, however, seemed to be as casual as ever. He showed Liam around quickly, pointing out the refreshments and making sure Liam knew it was an open bar. Not knowing quite what to say or how to behave, Liam was grateful when the pretty blonde called Malcolm into the kitchen.
That must be his girlfriend.
Wanting to calm his nerves as quickly as possible, Liam helped himself to a glass of fire whisky and tried to look as if he really belonged at the party. He wandered into the living room and leaned against a wall, surveying the other partygoers. Truth was that he wanted to make sure Roarke wasn't there. Now that he was certain she wasn't, he couldn't help but scold himself for feeling a bit disappointed. It had been so long since he'd actually seen her face, and he was desperate to know if she was truly okay.
"It's still calm yet, isn't it?" a woman dressed as a princess said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The party. Give everyone some time to get a few more drinks in them."
"Oh, yeah," Liam nodded.
"I'm Belinda, by the way. Belinda Patton."
"Liam."
"Yes, Malcolm told me. He said you and I should talk. I work for the building department."
The rather stilted conversation went on for a while. Liam wasn't very interested in most of what she was saying, but he didn't want to seem rude and just walk away. Belinda, on the other hand, grew more talkative with each drink – and more flirtatious. Soon she wasn't even talking about architecture, but rather about what fun she was having and how sweet Liam seemed. She turned down an offer to dance with a young man in a garish Quidditch uniform, saying that she was in the middle of a conversation. Her arm found it's way around his waist once or twice. She even made sure Liam drank his fair share of the fire whiskey in what Liam assumed was an attempt to get him to relax enough to ask her to dance. She tugged his mask off a few times, saying she needed to confirm that there was a handsome face to go along with the sexy voice. Liam played along, after all, isn't that why he was here? To get his mind off of other issues.
Five fire whiskies later, Liam's relaxed feeling came to an abrupt halt when the door opened and Roarke entered the room, escorted by none other than Tarquin Noyes, dressed fittingly as a pirate. Liam nearly spilled his drink upon seeing Roarke. Malcolm had said she wouldn't be here. This was exactly the kind of thing Liam was trying to avoid! He could not be in the same room with her. Not now. Not in the fuzzy condition his mind was in.
And yet he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He hadn't seen her in nearly six months, and the sight of her was as refreshing as cold water on a warm day. She was laughing loudly, joking with Tarquin about some nonsense Liam cared little about. Her hair was longer and fuller. She was dressed as some sort of scullery maid and had ratted her hair to make it appear messy. It danced around her shoulders and face haphazardly as she tossed her head back to laugh at some witty comment Tarquin was making. Her laugh cut through the noise of the music playing and sent a shiver down Liam's spine.
"You all right?" Belinda asked.
"Yeah. I'm just..." Liam didn't know what to say.
"Do you know Roarke?"
Liam swallowed. "Yeah."
"What is she supposed to be? Tarquin is a pirate, that much is certain. So what is she? His wench?"
At that moment, Tarquin lifted Roarke up over his shoulder, her bottom in the air. "I'll make ye walk the plank for that one!" he called out so everyone could hear. Roarke screamed in laughter until he put her back down. Her arms went around his neck, hugging him affectionately.
Liam's heart fell into his stomach at the sight. He had to get away from here. Away from Belinda and her annoying flirtations. Away from Roarke and the vision of her wrapped around Tarquin Noyes. "I'm gonna grab something to eat." He didn't offer to get anything for Belinda. He didn't really care at this point. He just walked away in the opposite direction of where Roarke was.
Keeping his eye on her position, Liam made his way around the room carefully avoiding drawing any attention. Once he was positioned by the refreshments, and clearly out of sight, he took a deep breath and willed his body to relax. The door was only a few steps away. He would soon be out of this apartment and away from Roarke. After six months of pushing her image from his mind, trying to forget about her, it surprised him that all those feelings he had for her were still so fresh. No, that wasn't correct. He wasn't surprised. He knew he was still in love with her. He just couldn't have her. He had to get out of here. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave.
Making up his mind to make a dash for the door, Liam boldly stepped out from behind the table and ran full force into Roarke. Their bodies collided and she screeched in delight at what she interpreted as a comical moment. Liam, however, was not laughing. In fact, he was desperate to get away from her. Her perfume was strong and the feel of her hands on his arms was all too much for him. When she looked up at him with those beautiful gray eyes, Liam felt more intoxicated than he had ever before in his life.
"I'm so sorry!" she said with laughter. "I didn't see you there. Are you all right?'
Liam managed a nod.
"I didn't do any damage. Nothing broken is it?"
Her hands skimmed over his arms and chest causing Liam to jump. He shook his head, retreating away from her.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't want to be touched. Let me guess," she eyed him up and down. "Are you a dementor?"
Liam nodded.
"And you're not talking," she said pointing a shaky finger at him. At this distance Liam could smell the alcohol on her breath indicating that she was rather drunk. "How very in character you are! I, on the other hand..." she spread her arms wide, revealing her entire costume. "Do you know who I am?"
Liam's breath caught in his chest. She was hardly wearing anything at all, really. Her shirt was very low cut with a tight corset around her small waist. The skirt she wore was dirty and ripped and pulled up on one side showing off a rather shapely leg. He really needed to get away from her before he did something he would regret.
Roarke gave an exaggerated sigh of impatience. "Moll Flanders."
Liam blinked.
"From the book. I swear, I have to wonder at the literary education of some of Malcolm's friends. No one here has heard of Moll Flanders!"
Liam shrugged.
"Well, it doesn't matter. I'm only here for the drinks." She leaned in very close to Liam, placing a hand flat against his chest. "It's my intention to stay very drunk tonight. I've earned it."
He couldn't breathe. Her face was so close to his. If he hadn't been wearing the damned mask he just might have leaned down and kissed her.
NO! NO! NO!! You have to get away from her now!
"Roarke!" Tarquin called over to her. "Where is my drink?"
Roarke picked up a cup and winked up at Liam. "Duty calls. Nice to meet you." And with that, she was gone.
Liam's heart beat rapidly against his chest, his breath shallow and short. Without a moment's hesitation, he darted for the door, not allowing his mind to calm down until he was safely outside.
"Way to go, Roarke," Belinda said, giving Roarke a small shove.
Roarke turned around with a smile. "I'm sorry, Belinda. Did I spill on you?"
"No, you just scared off the most handsome dementor I've ever met!" Belinda said, pointing to the door just as the unknown man left.
"I'm sorry, was that your date?"
"No, but he could have been. Things were going quite well until you showed up. What did you say to him anyway?"
Roarke was taken back by the tone of Belinda's voice. "I didn't say anything to him. I just got a drink and left."
"Well, there obviously was something wrong with what you said to him."
Roarke's mind wasn't clear enough to fully understand what Belinda was going on about. "Look, I don't even know him. He wouldn't even talk to me."
"That's your loss then. He had a rather sexy Australian accent."
Roarke paused in thought. "Australian. Stay away from those. They are nothing but trouble!"
"Yeah, and I wouldn't have minded getting into trouble with him. He's an architect. Perhaps I'll just need to follow up with him on some business. Can't be too many Liam Zetters on the floo network. Shouldn't be too hard to find, eh?"
Roarke's heart skipped a beat. "Excuse me? Liam Zetter?"
"Yes, the guy. The dementor."
Her head was swimming in a haze, uncertain if she was hearing things correctly. "Belinda, do a sobering charm on me."
"Why?"
"Just do it!"
A swift flick of the wand later, Roarke clearly looked the other woman in the eyes. "Now, did you say Liam Zetter?"
When the order came across Malcolm's desk that Gringotts had some sort of problem requiring the assistance of an Auror, Malcolm thought it was a joke. First of all, Gringotts rarely asked anyone, let alone the Ministry of Magic, for assistance. Second of all, thanks to the stunt his father and Godfather pulled last Christmas, Malcolm was not on the goblins' list of wizards in good standing right now. Yet there it was in plain sight – an order for Malcolm Lupin to go and investigate an item found in the tunnels of Gringotts Bank.
Since Malcolm knew they were renovating the bank, he could understand that there would be items found in the underground tunnels. He personally had lost many a small toy as a child while riding to his parent's vault in one of the crazy carts. He also knew that goblins were greedy creatures. Any unclaimed item found in their bank was fair game for them to do with as they pleased. So the question was, why would the goblins admit they had found something interesting, and better yet, why involve the Ministry of Magic?
"One of the architects called it in," a voice said, snapping Malcolm out of his thoughts. It was Alais Gobredo, chief Auror and Malcolm's boss. "He thought it looked too suspicious for even the goblins. From what I understand, they weren't too pleased with the fact that he notified us."
"I can believe that," Malcolm agreed. "I have some free time later this morning, or should I get right on it? It doesn't say what kind of an item they have." Malcolm suggested with a hint of a smile.
"You're right. It doesn't sound like any thing of great consequence, but you never know what the goblins have up their sleeves. Just go pick up the thing and get it over with."
Malcolm did as he was asked to do, even though it wasn't something he found exactly exciting. It would give him the chance to stop in and say good morning to Emily in the ludicrous patents office without raising suspicion, so at least that would be nice. With the party fast approaching, he wanted to make sure everything was in order and planned out, especially since this would be their first official joint effort as a couple. However, she was too busy and Malcolm was turned away from her office without the privilege of talking to her. He would just have to wait until dinner that evening.
When he arrived at Gringotts, Malcolm found himself being led from one place to the other with no real direction. None of the goblins seemed to really want to help him find his way around, and with the place under such construction, he was certainly getting lost. It took asking seven different goblins, two humans, and a good forty minutes to get the correct directions out of anyone. At long last Malcolm was taken to an underground tunnel where we was told he would meet the "foreign one", as the second human had described him. The tunnel was dark and uninviting. Had it not been for the sound of voices at the far end, Malcolm would have turned around.
"I said it would take at least three weeks to make that change," the first voice said.
"Then it will take three weeks," the second, more sinister voice said.
"Look, the problem isn't the time! It's the fact that seven tunnels will have to be moved to make room for this one new vault," the first voice said again. This voice definitely belonged to a human, and there was something familiar about it. "What I'm suggesting is that we put the vault at the end of the line where it wouldn't interrupt a thing."
"That will not be sufficient," the second voice, belonging to what Malcolm deduced was a goblin, sounded. "We need this vault placed exactly where we have described."
"But it would be so much easier..."
"The vault stays right here. If you can not make this possible, then perhaps we will have to find a replacement."
There was a pause before the first man said, "No, I'll make it work. But you'll have to give me some extra time."
The sound of footsteps approaching told Malcolm the conversation was over. The tiny goblin passed by Malcolm without so much as acknowledging his presence. When he was gone, Malcolm took a step into the darkness toward the man still at the end of the tunnel.
"Bloody know-it-alls," the man said. Malcolm didn't quite know weather to trust his ears or not. That voice sounded as if it belonged to Liam Zetter, who was supposed to be in Australia. "They might know how to run a bank, but they sure as hell don't know anything about design!"
"Excuse me," Malcolm called out, brushing aside the possibility that the other man very well could be Liam. "Might I have a word?"
"Sorry, I didn't know anyone was there. What do you need?"
"I'm an Auror from the Ministry of Magic. I was sent to look at an item you found."
"Oh yeah, it's in the next tunnel." The man stepped out from the shadows towards Malcolm. "My employers don't see what the fuss is about, but when I saw that..."
The man froze. And so did Malcolm.
"Liam."
Liam took a deep breath. "Malcolm Lupin."
Not quite understanding what was going on, Malcolm said, "I thought you went back to Australia."
"I did. I came back though...for work."
"Oh." Another long pause filled the dark tunnel. "How long have you been back then?"
"Just a few weeks."
It was obvious to Malcolm that Liam did not want to participate in any small talk, but something wasn't quite right about the whole situation. "I saw Roarke on Saturday, but she didn't mention you were back."
Liam looked away. "I haven't spoken to her."
"But she does know you're in England, right?"
"The item that I found is in the next tunnel over," Liam said, changing the subject and walking past Malcolm towards the other tunnel. "It isn't much, and my knowledge of the war against Voldemort is fairly limited, but I didn't think it would too wise to just hand it over to the goblins."
Malcolm followed him around the corner to yet another dimly lit passageway. "How do you see down here?"
"You don't. I think the goblins keep it this dark because they don't want anyone to know what really is hidden down here. I wouldn't have ever found this had it not fallen and hit me on the head." Liam picked up a small box and handed it to Malcolm. "It's got the Dark Mark on it. I wasn't sure so I asked one of the other architects."
Sure enough, it was a small silver box with the symbol of the Dark Mark engraved on its lid. Malcolm ran his fingers over it finding the lid smooth, as if the mark hadn't been engraved but rather was part of the silver. "Interesting. I don't think it's much to worry about, but if you don't mind, I'll take it back to the Ministry to open it."
"I don't care what you do with it. I just didn't think the goblins should have it."
"Probably a good call. To this day, I am surprised at some of the things Death Eaters enchanted and the lengths they took to protect Voldemort."
Liam nodded. "So that's all I needed. Sorry to make such a fuss. I thought they would just send a messenger to pick it up."
"It's no problem, really."
They stood there silently for a moment. In Malcolm's opinion, Liam didn't look too comfortable right now. In fact, Malcolm thought he rather looked like someone who had been caught doing something they shouldn't be doing. There were a few questions Malcolm still had for Liam about Roarke, but he wondered if now was the right time to ask them.
You probably won't get another chance. What have you got to lose? Oh, what the hell.
"Roarke really doesn't know you're in England, does she?"
Liam licked his lip looking agitated. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, I think she deserves to know."
"That's your opinion." Liam said flatly.
"Can you at least tell me what happened?" Malcolm persisted.
Liam gave Malcolm a rather hard stare, but that didn't faze him or stop him from continuing. After Tarquin informed him that Roarke still had feelings, deep feelings, for the Aussie, Malcolm spent a good while considering why Liam left in the first place. "I've been trying to figure it all out, but Roarke gives me the same cold shoulder you're giving me."
"Maybe that's because it's none of your business," Liam said with an edge to his voice. He turned away and started back toward the other tunnel.
"That's a good point. It isn't my business...unless you consider that I care about my sister and I don't like to see her hurting."
Liam stopped, his back was still to Malcolm. "What...do you mean?"
"I mean she's not happy. She hasn't been herself for a long time now – since you left – and I would just like to know why."
Liam glanced over his shoulder. "I'm sorry that she's hurting, but you have to believe me when I say things are better this way."
Malcolm noted that Liam's voice had softened. There was certainly more story here than Liam was willing to tell. "Did she decide that, or did you?"
Anger flashed in Liam's eyes as he turned to fully face Malcolm. "Look, I don't know what you want from me, but I'm getting more than a little irritated with this."
"I just want to know what happened."
"If Roarke wanted you to know, then she would have told you."
"Not if she wanted to protect you for some reason."
"And why exactly would I need protecting?"
"I have a suspicion about what happened, but I'm not sure. If I'm right, then you have a lot of explaining to do. If I'm wrong, then I suppose I owe you an apology."
Liam furrowed his eyebrows. "What exactly do you think happened?"
"I'm wondering if you hit her." It was a lie, but Malcolm had to test a theory.
"WHAT?" Liam said, astonished. "Did she tell you that?"
Malcolm shrugged. "She's been quiet, keeping to herself. And seeing at how quickly your relationship ended...and the fact that she refuses to discuss it with anyone..."
"I never hit her! Whatever you may think of me, you have to understand that I would never hurt her like that!" Liam was satisfyingly appalled at Malcolm's accusation.
Malcolm resisted smiling, as his comment garnered the exact response he was looking for. "Fine, I apologize for thinking it."
"Now, are we finished here?" Liam said, anger still evident in his voice.
"Almost."
Rolling his eyes, Liam said, "Good God, what now?"
"I'm just wondering if you have plans for Halloween."
The comment left Liam stunned. "Huh?"
"Halloween. I'm having a party at my flat."
Liam stared blankly at Malcolm.
"I thought you might like to come."
"Are you joking? First you accuse me hitting your sister, and now you want me to come to a party?"
"I was mistaken. I misjudged you and that was unfair. I thought that inviting you to my party would prove to you that I harbor no hard feelings. Think of it as my apology."
Liam stood opened mouthed, looking at Malcolm in confusion. "Is this a trick to get me to talk to Roarke?"
"Not at all. In fact, she's already told me that she has no desire to come. She's been working hard on a case, and with the office closed that evening, she wants to just relax at home. Besides, she said she thought dressing up was a bit silly."
"Dressing up?"
"It's my girlfriend's idea. She's Muggle born and really misses the Muggle tradition of wearing costumes on Halloween. So, I promised her a costume party."
Liam still looked confused.
"Think of it this way," Malcolm offered. "You come to my flat. Take your mind off of work. Drink as much of my alcohol as you desire. Meet some new people. Make some new friends. And I don't feel guilty for accusing you of hitting my sister."
Liam didn't look convinced. "I dunno. I don't think it's a good idea. We don't really get along."
"You don't have to spend the evening talking to me. In fact, I have a friend who sets up the building permits and contracts for the Ministry. I could introduce the two of you. I am sure the connection would be a useful one for you."
Liam pursed his lips together in thought.
"Well, it's your choice. If you change your mind though, I'm at number 14 Grace Street."
Malcolm gave a small nod and headed out the way he came in. Liam grabbed his elbow, turning him back around. "Hey listen, about earlier. About Roarke..."
"Yes?"
"I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything to her about this. I really don't want her to know I'm here. Not yet anyway."
"All right. But I think she'd really like to know you're back."
"Trust me," Liam said, retreating down the tunnel. "She's better off without me."
Now that was interesting. "Better off without me" he had said. Curious choice of words in Malcolm's opinion. If he had interpreted the signs correctly, Liam felt the same way about Roarke that Roarke felt about Liam. The question still remained; why did they call things off? Why would Liam try to avoid Roarke? Better yet, why would both of them try to pretend that they didn't have feelings for the other? Malcolm was determined to find out what was going on, even if it took a bit of trickery to do it.
Saturday, Oct. 31 – 10:00 pm
Against his better judgment, Liam knocked on the door of Number 14 Grace Street. He wondered if he had time to turn away and head back to his flat before anyone opened the door. Truth be told, he almost turned around several times on his way to the party. And even when the door opened and a pretty blond woman invited him inside, he still almost gave up and returned home. Yet here he was. And now that he had been seen by the host as well as a few others, he had better stay at least for a little while. After all, Malcolm had said that there might be someone at the party who could prove to be a good connection in the building department of the Ministry of Magic. Liam reminded himself that this was why he'd come.
Liam tugged his hood down over his face further and hoped no one would criticize his rather sloppy attempt at a dementor. It was all he could come up with at the last minute. He and his friends had all worn over sized black capes one year to the end of year feast at Karákul. Since they were out of uniform, they all got in trouble, but with it being the end of the year no one really cared. The cape was the only thing Liam found in his closet that remotely resembled a costume. Since he didn't favor traditional wizard robes, Liam wore a plain black shirt and trousers under the cloak. The one item that he did have to fuss with was his mask. He conjured a simple looking skeletal mask resembling what he had been told a dementor looked like to hide his face in case the hood ever fell off.
Malcolm made his way past a group of guests to welcome Liam with a handshake. The uncomfortable feeling Liam had in the pit of his stomach grew at the very idea of being in the presence of Roarke's brother. Malcolm, however, seemed to be as casual as ever. He showed Liam around quickly, pointing out the refreshments and making sure Liam knew it was an open bar. Not knowing quite what to say or how to behave, Liam was grateful when the pretty blonde called Malcolm into the kitchen.
That must be his girlfriend.
Wanting to calm his nerves as quickly as possible, Liam helped himself to a glass of fire whisky and tried to look as if he really belonged at the party. He wandered into the living room and leaned against a wall, surveying the other partygoers. Truth was that he wanted to make sure Roarke wasn't there. Now that he was certain she wasn't, he couldn't help but scold himself for feeling a bit disappointed. It had been so long since he'd actually seen her face, and he was desperate to know if she was truly okay.
"It's still calm yet, isn't it?" a woman dressed as a princess said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"The party. Give everyone some time to get a few more drinks in them."
"Oh, yeah," Liam nodded.
"I'm Belinda, by the way. Belinda Patton."
"Liam."
"Yes, Malcolm told me. He said you and I should talk. I work for the building department."
The rather stilted conversation went on for a while. Liam wasn't very interested in most of what she was saying, but he didn't want to seem rude and just walk away. Belinda, on the other hand, grew more talkative with each drink – and more flirtatious. Soon she wasn't even talking about architecture, but rather about what fun she was having and how sweet Liam seemed. She turned down an offer to dance with a young man in a garish Quidditch uniform, saying that she was in the middle of a conversation. Her arm found it's way around his waist once or twice. She even made sure Liam drank his fair share of the fire whiskey in what Liam assumed was an attempt to get him to relax enough to ask her to dance. She tugged his mask off a few times, saying she needed to confirm that there was a handsome face to go along with the sexy voice. Liam played along, after all, isn't that why he was here? To get his mind off of other issues.
Five fire whiskies later, Liam's relaxed feeling came to an abrupt halt when the door opened and Roarke entered the room, escorted by none other than Tarquin Noyes, dressed fittingly as a pirate. Liam nearly spilled his drink upon seeing Roarke. Malcolm had said she wouldn't be here. This was exactly the kind of thing Liam was trying to avoid! He could not be in the same room with her. Not now. Not in the fuzzy condition his mind was in.
And yet he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He hadn't seen her in nearly six months, and the sight of her was as refreshing as cold water on a warm day. She was laughing loudly, joking with Tarquin about some nonsense Liam cared little about. Her hair was longer and fuller. She was dressed as some sort of scullery maid and had ratted her hair to make it appear messy. It danced around her shoulders and face haphazardly as she tossed her head back to laugh at some witty comment Tarquin was making. Her laugh cut through the noise of the music playing and sent a shiver down Liam's spine.
"You all right?" Belinda asked.
"Yeah. I'm just..." Liam didn't know what to say.
"Do you know Roarke?"
Liam swallowed. "Yeah."
"What is she supposed to be? Tarquin is a pirate, that much is certain. So what is she? His wench?"
At that moment, Tarquin lifted Roarke up over his shoulder, her bottom in the air. "I'll make ye walk the plank for that one!" he called out so everyone could hear. Roarke screamed in laughter until he put her back down. Her arms went around his neck, hugging him affectionately.
Liam's heart fell into his stomach at the sight. He had to get away from here. Away from Belinda and her annoying flirtations. Away from Roarke and the vision of her wrapped around Tarquin Noyes. "I'm gonna grab something to eat." He didn't offer to get anything for Belinda. He didn't really care at this point. He just walked away in the opposite direction of where Roarke was.
Keeping his eye on her position, Liam made his way around the room carefully avoiding drawing any attention. Once he was positioned by the refreshments, and clearly out of sight, he took a deep breath and willed his body to relax. The door was only a few steps away. He would soon be out of this apartment and away from Roarke. After six months of pushing her image from his mind, trying to forget about her, it surprised him that all those feelings he had for her were still so fresh. No, that wasn't correct. He wasn't surprised. He knew he was still in love with her. He just couldn't have her. He had to get out of here. The longer he stayed, the harder it would be to leave.
Making up his mind to make a dash for the door, Liam boldly stepped out from behind the table and ran full force into Roarke. Their bodies collided and she screeched in delight at what she interpreted as a comical moment. Liam, however, was not laughing. In fact, he was desperate to get away from her. Her perfume was strong and the feel of her hands on his arms was all too much for him. When she looked up at him with those beautiful gray eyes, Liam felt more intoxicated than he had ever before in his life.
"I'm so sorry!" she said with laughter. "I didn't see you there. Are you all right?'
Liam managed a nod.
"I didn't do any damage. Nothing broken is it?"
Her hands skimmed over his arms and chest causing Liam to jump. He shook his head, retreating away from her.
"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't want to be touched. Let me guess," she eyed him up and down. "Are you a dementor?"
Liam nodded.
"And you're not talking," she said pointing a shaky finger at him. At this distance Liam could smell the alcohol on her breath indicating that she was rather drunk. "How very in character you are! I, on the other hand..." she spread her arms wide, revealing her entire costume. "Do you know who I am?"
Liam's breath caught in his chest. She was hardly wearing anything at all, really. Her shirt was very low cut with a tight corset around her small waist. The skirt she wore was dirty and ripped and pulled up on one side showing off a rather shapely leg. He really needed to get away from her before he did something he would regret.
Roarke gave an exaggerated sigh of impatience. "Moll Flanders."
Liam blinked.
"From the book. I swear, I have to wonder at the literary education of some of Malcolm's friends. No one here has heard of Moll Flanders!"
Liam shrugged.
"Well, it doesn't matter. I'm only here for the drinks." She leaned in very close to Liam, placing a hand flat against his chest. "It's my intention to stay very drunk tonight. I've earned it."
He couldn't breathe. Her face was so close to his. If he hadn't been wearing the damned mask he just might have leaned down and kissed her.
NO! NO! NO!! You have to get away from her now!
"Roarke!" Tarquin called over to her. "Where is my drink?"
Roarke picked up a cup and winked up at Liam. "Duty calls. Nice to meet you." And with that, she was gone.
Liam's heart beat rapidly against his chest, his breath shallow and short. Without a moment's hesitation, he darted for the door, not allowing his mind to calm down until he was safely outside.
"Way to go, Roarke," Belinda said, giving Roarke a small shove.
Roarke turned around with a smile. "I'm sorry, Belinda. Did I spill on you?"
"No, you just scared off the most handsome dementor I've ever met!" Belinda said, pointing to the door just as the unknown man left.
"I'm sorry, was that your date?"
"No, but he could have been. Things were going quite well until you showed up. What did you say to him anyway?"
Roarke was taken back by the tone of Belinda's voice. "I didn't say anything to him. I just got a drink and left."
"Well, there obviously was something wrong with what you said to him."
Roarke's mind wasn't clear enough to fully understand what Belinda was going on about. "Look, I don't even know him. He wouldn't even talk to me."
"That's your loss then. He had a rather sexy Australian accent."
Roarke paused in thought. "Australian. Stay away from those. They are nothing but trouble!"
"Yeah, and I wouldn't have minded getting into trouble with him. He's an architect. Perhaps I'll just need to follow up with him on some business. Can't be too many Liam Zetters on the floo network. Shouldn't be too hard to find, eh?"
Roarke's heart skipped a beat. "Excuse me? Liam Zetter?"
"Yes, the guy. The dementor."
Her head was swimming in a haze, uncertain if she was hearing things correctly. "Belinda, do a sobering charm on me."
"Why?"
"Just do it!"
A swift flick of the wand later, Roarke clearly looked the other woman in the eyes. "Now, did you say Liam Zetter?"
