Author's Note: I was looking at my stories and when I realized I hadn't updated this since last year I was appalled, simply appalled. So, by way of apology, here is Chapter 24. I hope it appeases!
Chapter 24: A Tree Grows in the Countryside
There was a rush of wind as Amelia Apparated onto a small, winding road. It was a dirt road, stretching out into the distance, lined on one side by fences, the other by trees. Amelia had quickly checked a map before departing from the Ministry and had discovered that the meeting place Rowan had suggested was one of a series of farms, quite some way out of town. It was secluded, not somewhere anybody would stumble into by accident; this fact made Amelia even more certain that whatever Rowan had to say was extremely important.
Fabian appeared next to her, his red hair blowing in the wind, strands dancing over his cheeks as he stared somberly up ahead.
"Onwards?" he said, his voice low.
"Onwards," Amelia replied, turning her head to face the same way as him.
And so they walked onwards, continuing up the road, the dust from the ground swirling around their feet as they went. Both witch and wizard had their wands out, Amelia's knuckles white as she held it forwards. She subtly glanced over at her partner and she could his chest breathing rhythmically, as if he was having to remind himself to do it. Amelia too felt a certain weight in her chest, but she was doing her best to ignore it. They walked on for about ten minutes or so, before Fabian said sharply, "there," and pointed to the left side of the road.
In the middle of a grass field, Amelia could see Rowan's petite figure dressed in black. She stood against a mass of dark trees that lined where the fence, surrounding the rest of the paddock, neglected to run. A small way from where she stood was a barn, old and dilapidated, with a tin roof that was peeling away at the edges and wooden walls that were cracking. It was a serene place, even if it was one that held ghosts. Amelia climbed over the fence and started towards her, Fabian following behind.
Fabian was the first to notice that something was wrong. He stopped abruptly, when they were only half way across the grass, and grabbed Amelia's wrist tightly. She jerked and, knowing that Fabian would not have done so without reason, focused on Rowan. The girl was standing completely still, like a piece of stone, not even swaying slightly with the wind. Amelia frowned. The girl's arms hung awkwardly and limply by her side; she had not even raised one in greeting. Amelia's brow contracted further. Rowan's face looked blank, as if someone had wiped her personality from her. What's more, her skin was deathly pale. Far too pale.
"Duck," Fabian whispered and both of them hit the ground, only to feel the whizzing of spells flying above them.
Amelia raised her head in time to see Rowan crumple to the ground. She jabbed her wand in that direction and four men, wearing dark cloaks and silver masks, melted into sight. Amelia felt her throat tighten; Death Eaters. It had been a trick.
Realizing they had been discovered, the Death Eaters went into attack mode, shooting curse after curse towards the Aurors. Amelia and Fabian fought back, but two against four, even for skilled duelists, was a great disadvantage. The wind picked up and conditions quickly became more difficult. Soon, Amelia felt her wand being whisked from her hand by an unseen force, then being hurled away somewhere in the field. Amelia wanted to scream.
"I've lost my wand," she yelled to Fabian, over the howling of the wind and the whipping of spells.
He glanced over at her, glanced back at the Death Eaters and then made a dash towards Amelia. Grabbing her arm, he turned quickly on the spot. And stayed there.
"Shit," he said, pulling Amelia to the ground and casting a shield around them, "They've cast a spell over the area. I can't Apparate."
Amelia looked around and then whispered, "into the barn."
They waited for two seconds and then Fabian broke the shield, the pair running for shelter in the barn. They made it inside, Amelia slamming the door behind them. Another crack appeared in the wood as she did so. The barn contained an old tractor, some rusting shot guns, the stuffed head of a deer and some rotting hay. A larger portion of the back, which could not be seen from the road, was missing.
"Well, this won't keep anyone out!" Fabian cried exasperatedly.
Amelia was about to make a retort when he statement was proved correct by one of the masked men bursting through the door. His movement was so swift that Fabian's wand was swept away before he had time to register anything. The man advanced on Fabian, failing to see Amelia, who had rushed to the corner. Thinking quickly, she grabbed one of the guns that was resting against the wall. Hoping it was a loaded, she pointed it at the Death Eater's back and pulled the trigger. She felt the recoil, heard the bang and then looked, to see the man lying on the ground, bleeding out.
Amelia let the gun fall to the ground with a clang, leaning against the wall where it had resided, closing her eyes. Fabian picked up his wand. Both were breathing heavily, knowing how closely they had just danced with disaster. Amelia looked back at the man, whose black robes were now seeped with blood. She could not believe that that had worked. Still, she thought bitterly, it is a wizarding war after all. Why should he bother to protect himself from weapons made by ignorant, pathetic Muggles? Amelia shook her head a little, half in disbelief, half in disdain; the arrogance of his ideology had just killed him. Her haze of reflection returned to harshly defined reality as she saw Fabian, supporting himself on the tractor, and remembered that it wasn't over.
"Will they send another?" she asked.
"Undoubtly," Fabian nodded.
"We hold him?" Amelia suggested.
"Exactly what I was going to say."
It was not long before another one did come, but this time they were ready for him. Hiding in the corner, where Amelia had been before, they waited for him to reach the centre of the room and then Fabain cast a stunning spell. It got him square between the shoulders and the unknown wizard hurtled with a crash to the ground, dust flying up from the floorboards, his wand rolling away and falling down through a crack. The Aurors ran over, Fabian grabbing both his shoulders and spinning him around, so that he faced upwards, kneeling down on his chest so he wouldn't escape when the spell broke. Amelia ripped off his mask. It revealed a man, young, with acne scaring on his cheeks, shaggy, dirty-red hair and wide, scared eyes the darted back and forth as the rest of his body remained paralyzed; it was Larry Stoneham, the assistant at Bartholomew's store and potentially his killer too. For a second, Amelia was silent. This young man, if they were correct, was a major player in the game. She nodded and Fabian removed the spell, then forcefully placed his arm across Larry's neck, allowing him to breathe but pinning him to the spot.
"Are you Larry Stoneham?" Amelia demanded, now in full interrogation mode.
The suspect was shaking. He was little more than a boy, but Amelia could not feel sorry for him. She repeated the question and reluctantly he moved his head in the affirmative.
"Do you identify yourself as a Death Eater? she asked.
This time he didn't respond at all. Amelia signaled to Fabain, who found the boy's sleeve and pulled it upwards; there on his forearm twisted a snake protruding from a skull, the vile serpent almost seeming to slither with life. It was the Dark Mark.
"Who sent me the letter?" Amelia said, her voice now unforgiving, "I know you know what I'm talking about."
Something in her tone must have frightened him into speech, because Larry began to stammer. "I-it was D-d-arius," he said, "He knew you'd come. He said that you'd come for the whore-"
A great smacking noise interrupted his sentence, echoing through the barn. Amelia had slapped him.
"You do not call her that," she hissed, "If you choose to do so, your life will not be worth much for very long."
"Amelia," Fabian said quickly, the subtext reminding her to stay calm.
The witch took heed, but noticed her partner's arm was a littler firmer on Larry's neck.
"Why would Darius do that?" she said, "Was it because we were getting too close to the truth? Was it because we were on to him?"
She leaned in closer.
"Was it because you murdered Fredrick Bartholomew?"
Larry shuddered, looking more and more frightened.
"Was it?"
Larry nodded.
"Kieran Swann," Amelia said, "He was killed by a man named Matt Demming, correct?"
Larry nodded again, his eyes flicking over to the body of the dead man. Amelia, frowning, slowly moved over and pulled his mask off; the dead man was Demming. Amelia dropped the mask back down on top of him. It slipped down his cheek, failing to cover the frozen anguish printed forever on his face.
"And Franchesca Dyer?" she asked, her eyes still on Demming's pain-filled expression.
"Darius," Larry croaked, "It was Darius."
He began to cry and, for the first time, Amelia felt a pang of pity.
"It was all Darius's idea," Larry continued, "He thought he'd be clever; Darius likes to be clever. He thought he would show off, for the Dark Lord. But then it went wrong and that other Auror found out and we had to kill him too. But he didn't die. And the Dark Lord was so angry-"
In the middle of his sentence, suddenly, he stopped speaking. Fabian gave him a shake and then pressed his fingers against Larry's neck.
"He's dead," he said finally.
"The Unbreakable Vow," Amelia said, remembering Alice's experience in the bar, "He must have said too much."
She bent down and checked his robes. To her great surprise, he had picked up her wand. She gave it a wave, glad to have it back in her hands. Fabian gazed at the two bodies for a second and then said quickly, "we should get out of here."
He took her by the hand and they crept out through the back of the barn. The two remaining Death Eaters were around the other side and could not see them. Just as they reached the trees that stood only a few metres from the barn, the structure caught fire, disappearing in a torrent of angry flames. Amelia let out a gasp, but was quickly silent as Fabian pulled her down into the undergrowth, to avoid being noticed by the two black figures that marched around the back to survey their handy work. One of them was mesmerized by the flames, but the other flicked his head around, watching the trees as if he had seen something. Amelia was still, her heart beating fast in her chest. Through the holes in the mask, a pair of intelligent eyes stared out and Amelia was almost sure that she recognized them and the voice, when the man replied "leave her" in response to his companion's question about what to do with Rowan. But the hint of recognition was brushed away as the two men strode a little further and then Disapperated. Amelia and Fabian stayed still for a while longer and then, when they were certain their enemies were gone, the witch got up and rushed into the field.
Amelia did not stop running until she came to Rowan, falling down beside her, grabbing her hand up and pressing against her wrist, praying for a pulse. A second went by. Two. Three. Nothing. Desperately, Amelia's hand went up to the girl's neck, hoping, praying that something would move beneath her fingers. But it didn't. The Auror must've waited a full minute before removing her hand and accepting, or rather not at all accepting, that her friend was dead. Fabian walked up, his hands in his pockets, his face grave and stoney. Amelia looked up at him, her eyes glistening.
"I will not leave her here," she said definitely.
"We can't take a human body with us through the centre of London," Fabian responded.
Amelia thought for a second about his words and then realized what he meant; she would have to be transfigured into something. Her initial thought was a butterfly; then she could fly free through the skies and do as she pleased. But Amelia's gaze came to rest upon the girl's wrist, the black tattoo more visible than ever, and she realized that, for Rowan, a butterfly would never mean freedom. Then, making up her mind, she waved her wand over the body.
The pale skin began to fade away, the tattoo dissolving forever into the grass. The girl's face, the dead lips and eyes, also disappeared. And then, from where her heart would have sat beneath her clothes, a black shape began to rise. This twisted itself into a pot, from which came a small seedling with oval shaped leaves. They began to shiver in the wind.
"It's a Rowan Tree," Amelia said softly, picking the pot up gently in her fingers.
"It's beautiful," Fabian whispered.
And he wrapped his arm around her waist, his palm coming to rest on top of her fingers, lacing his through her own so his fingertips could touch the smooth side of the pot.
"It's beautiful."