Chapter 11: Dana Scully and Three Travelers

The first day of the conference was definitely interesting. No, scratch that. Entertaining. The first paper was from some woman in Belgium about effective ways to use public transportation and how to teach that to students. I was chewing the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing ten minutes in as it was apparent the last research she'd done was ages ago. I knew that most of the difficulties she went over in agonizing detail were obsoleted by the Oyster card. Hell, I hardly ever took the underground in London but even I had an Oyster card. OK, maybe they have a different thing in Belgium but they probably had a similar card or even an app for your phone. I took notes, oh yeah, I took notes. Of all the things that they'd got wrong. Sure, I didn't know exactly what the day to day life was like for a Muggle over in Estonia but there were things that were pretty much universal, like smartphones and microwaves and stuff like that. It felt like watching a Mystery Science Theater 3000 movie except it was live. Well, and I didn't have wisecracking robots next to me. Instead I had Jamie Zipradder who also didn't look very impressed.

After the break was announced for lunch jamie excused himself for a moment so I walked out to the front of the hotel and sat down at a bench, fished around for my cigarettes and lit one. Jamie returned when I was about a quarter way through my smoke and handed me a vial.

"Here. Emily said you'd probably need another one about now."

I took the Pepper Up potion thankfully, downed it and nodded. "She's right, but I don't think its just being up until the ass crack of dawn that's got me ready to drop off. Tell me, not everybody thinks those presentations are all true?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately, most of them. My grandparents on my Dad's side are Muggles, so I'm more familiar with things than most. Its usually like this until someone gives a presentation that's up-to-date and then the arguments begin."

"Arguments?"

"Oh yes, arguments. Over who is right about Muggles. That's my guess why you're last, by the way. Less time for someone to complain that you've completely invalidated all their scholarly work."

"Really? I figured it was because I'm..."

"98.7% Muggle?" Jamie nodded. "Oh, I'm sure that figured into the arithmancy as well."

"Well fuck." I took a drag off my smoke. "Great. Can't wait to give my paper now."

"I'm interested, and the people you met at breakfast are as well. I'm pretty sure that Italian bloke will give you a hard time, but don't take that personally. He's a right bastard as it is, thinks that his school in Rome is...he's a just a snobbish prick. Left the professor from China in tears last conference. That was a sight, seeing an old man sobbing like that at the lecturn during the question and answer session."

"This just keeps getting better." I flicked the cigarette to the ground and snuffed it out with my shoe, surprised when Jamie pulled out his wand. "What'ya doing?"

"Move your foot."

"Ah." I moved my foot off of the cigarette and Jamie vanished it with his wand. "Thanks."

"Right. Lunch, then?" Jamie gestured towards the hotel. "Long lunch, hopefully. Next presentation is about telephones."

"Jesus." I stood up. "Sure, let's go. Kinda hungry, I guess."

Walking back into the hotel I saw a couple pushing a baby in a stroller, which made me think about Mel and the kids. I'd wanted them to come along, but Mel didn't feel right about leaving since she was sort of doing her Witch Weekly stuff at home, and Lavinia had been surprised by an invitation to go on holiday with Ruby, but seeing that family made me miss them. It was while watching them head down the wide expanse of the hotel's entrance that something caught my eye; someone, actually. There was no reason he should be here, that was for sure, but I was certain that it was him and if it really was him then I sure as shit didn't want Jamie Zipradder messed up in it.

I stopped walking. "You know what, Jamie, go on, I'll catch up. I think I need another smoke if I'm going to be able to handle the rest of the day. I'm sure Emily's waiting for you."

"Sure. See you later."

I walked back to the bench by the fountain, lit another cigarette and waited until Jamie was back in the hotel before I started scanning the area, looking at all the people at the front of the hotel, normal witches and wizards on holiday. It took me a few minutes but eventually I found him, standing in a sort-of hidden little shadowy alcove near the side of the hotel, near the building by a window. He wasn't alone. There was another person talking to him, back to me with a traveling cloak, hood up. That in and of itself was odd, having a hood up on a day like this as it was a beautifully sunny day. But having a hood up and talking to him? The suspicious quotient went up by about a thousand. I smoked and watched, and right before my excuse of a cigarette was gone the hooded person turned and Apparated away. I put out my smoke with my shoe again and didn't care about leaving the butt on the grounds as I had to get to him before he disappeared. Thankfully he made it easy for me, as he went into the hotel. I stayed back, far enough to see where he went before sighing. If anyone needed a drink these days it sure as fuck was Draco Malfoy.

I waited and watched as he scanned the room and started walking purposely towards a booth in the back, a booth that was not empty, as an attractive, dark-haired witch sat with a martini. I knew Draco wasn't messing around with her, as I sure as shit knew that Astoria meant the world to him but it didn't leave me with a good feeling in my stomach. I stood there for a moment, unsure of exactly what to do, but eventually curiosity got the better of me and I made my way over to the table just as Draco ordered a drink from the waiter.

"Mind if I join you?"

Draco looked up at me in surprise while the witch simply gave me a glare that told me she thought me beneath her.

"What are you doing here?" Draco moved over in the booth to let me in.

I slid into the booth and took off my glasses. "Muggle Studies conference. Enough about me, though, what are you doing here?"

"Leave." The woman leaned across the table, inadvertently giving me a nice view of her cleavage and a rather expensive looking pendant. "Do us all a favour and leave now before you get hurt."

The waiter chose that moment to return with Draco's drink. Ignoring the pretty and bitchy woman I ordered a gin and tonic and sat back in the booth. Once the waiter had left I put my glasses back on and leaned forward. "Listen, sweetie, I may not have much magic but don't fuck with me." She arched an eyebrow at me and took a drink of her martini, her eyes never leaving mine as if it was a war of wills.

"Daphne, please." Draco turned to me. "Hank, I'd like you to meet my sister-in-law, Daphne Greengrass. Daphne, this is Hank Boyd."

"Ah." She leaned back into the booth. "Forgive me. Draco has...informed me about your little escapades."

Little escapades? "Thanks, I think." I turned to Draco. "Enough of the bullshit, we can talk about that later. How's Astoria?"

His face fell. It was obvious that he was struggling with everything that had happened. "She...she will remain paralysed from the waist down. Her magic has returned, there is no further evidence of the magical wasting disease, but she will never walk again."

I put my hand on his shoulder, hoping he could tell how much I wanted to say to him in that small touch. "I'm so sorry, Draco." It was at that moment that I also realized that Daphne, across from us, was also affected. I turned to her. "I'm sorry, Daphne." She didn't respond. If anything her face became even more impassive. Finally, after a few moments she simply said 'Thank you for your concern.' The waiter brought over my drink so we were quiet for a moment while he re-arranged the table to put down my drink and supply Daphne with another martini. She must have told him to keep them coming or something because I certainly didn't hear her order another one.

So there we were, in a bar in Switzerland, quiet as a church. Eventually, though, Draco turned to me.

"I have some more information."

"Draco." Daphne's tone was icy. "This isn't the time nor the place."

He ignored her warning. "I don't know when I'll see Hank again."

"Uh..." I put down my drink. "Maybe one of you could do that privacy spell thingy."

Daphne tilted her head at me. "I'm so glad you're educating young witches and wizards. 'Spell thingy?' Really?"

"Oh come on, I teach Muggle Studies. Know how to defrag a computer hard drive?"

Luckily Draco took out his wand and cast the spell that kept all our conversation limited to the table, and at the moment he said the spell I remembered that it's called Muffliato, of course. I watched as he locked eyes with Daphne for a moment until she acquiesced and nodded. He turned to me.

"Hank, the man who is supposedly working on the Potter Adventure Series and privy to information that the Aurors are interested in here in Switzerland is a front. He is not the author, but is allowing himself to be utilised in that matter. My...contact informed me that he is being blackmailed to do so; apparently his daughter was involved with the WLF and attempted to remove herslef from the organisation. They do not handle disloyalty very well."

Daphne's laugh drew my attention. "That's an understatement. She lost a hand."

"Fucking hell." I picked up my drink and took a large swallow. "So if he's not the author..."

"That's what I'm working on, Hank." Draco leaned back against the booth. "And somehow it's tied to Astoria's illness. I am certain, although I do not have indisputable evidence."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Daphne suddenly straighten up and glance over her shoulder. Following her eyes I saw two men in black robes, both bald. The tattoos on their heads were plainly obvious.

"Sonovabitch." I said it under my breath, but they both heard me, evident from how they both turned to me immediately. "The motherfucking Knights of the Wand are here?"

Draco leaned across the table. "Daphne?"

Her eyes scanned the room quickly as the men took a table right near the entrance. "I can get him out, but it won't be easy."

"Do it. By any means." Draco turned to me, his face pale and stern. "Follow her directions precisely."

I pushed my glasses onto my face and nodded. Just what I needed. I'd escaped those bastards before thanks to Draco's help at Eittel's house and to be honest I was scared shitless. A slight 'pop' sound let me know the Muffliato was over and Draco's shoulder against me was my sign to slide out of the booth. As soon as I stood up Daphne was next to me and took my hand in hers.

"Follow my lead."

"Follow your lead?" I hesitated a second but she pulled me after her. "What the fuck is this, James Bond?"

"No." She pulled me closer and turned away, scanning the bar. We were obviously attracting attention from a certain table. "No, not Bond." She gave me a rather put-out look, as if I'd just told her that water was, in fact, wet. "He's a sexist twat. Which makes this rather uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable? What the fuck..."

Before I could finish my sentence Daphne spun me around and gave me a rather firm and unemotional kiss. My lips stung as if I'd just been attacked by a bee or slapped. Before I knew it we were gone in the disorienting, stomach-lurching experience I was all too familiar with: a Portkey.

-ooo-

It took me a few seconds from my vantage point on a rather hard surface to realize that I was in a house. A further few seconds and I realized that it wasn't a nice house, as it looked as if it was scheduled to be condemned and bulldozed by whatever local council, but almost from the moment I registered that my brain moved over to the other facts. I was a target from the fucking Knights again, my conference was effectively over without presenting my paper, Draco's sister-in-law had given me some weird kiss for Merlin-knows-why and I was not in Switzerland anymore.

"Get up, we don't have much time."

I got to my feet as quickly as I could, taking in one Daphne Greengrass. Dark hair a little bit past her shoulders, tasteful makeup and jewelry and a robe that still gave me a nice view of her cleavage. As I got up to my feet I started to ask a question but she cut me off immediately with a hand gesture and motioned me to a door in the hallway.

"I'll answer everything but not now. Through the door."

I opened the door, causing the hinges to creak as if the last time they'd been opened Albus Dumbledore was a wee firstie at Hogwarts. The stairs weren't much better, but as I got closer to the bottom of what must be a basement lights began to pop on, illuminating our destination. Instead of the dingy, usual debris in a basement such as old boxes and tools and whatever it seemed like a normal, functioning apartment with a single bed, a desk and a small kitchen. Several magical devices whirred on a bookshelf. I must have stopped at the bottom of the stairs to take it all in because I felt Daphne's hand on my back, moving me forward.

"Sit on the bed, I need to check some things."

"Ok." I went over to the bed, took off my robe and sat down. From my vantage point I watched Daphne go over to the desk, take out a piece of parchment from the drawer and pull out a self-inking quill. I wanted to ask a million questions but instead all I could do was listen as she wrote feverishly, quill scratching across the parchment, wait a few moments, write again, and then repeat the process. I'm not sure exactly how long she wrote but eventually she laid the quill down on the table, sighed, and turned to me.

"Horatio says we should be good here for a day or so unless they managed to trace us somehow."

"Horatio? Who the fuck is Horatio?"

A glimpse of a smile crossed her lips. "I believe he helped you out regarding some 'extra' magic?"

Extra magic...I knew exactly who Horatio was. Titus' son-in-law and a person who ran the closest thing the magical world had to the X-Files. "Holy shit. You're Dana Scully."

"Not exactly, but that will do for now." She turned the chair around fully so that she could see me without straining. "Where would you like to begin?"

"Portkeys don't usually need a kiss to power them, right?"

She arched an eyebrow and nodded. "This is a safehouse, but there are further precautions in the wards. Unless a person has the right DNA or magical signature the wards would prevent entry. I had to give you a small amount of my...self to allow you through the wards. Holding hands won't do that. Not enough. Kisses linger."

Without thinking I put a finger to my lips and realized they still stung slightly. "With lipstick like that I don't think there's much doubt."

"A precaution for situations such as these. It'll wear off in about an hour or so."

"Your husband or boyfriend must love that."

She shook her head. "I have neither."

Giving her a quick once over I figured that probably wasn't from lack of trying from most wizards. Unless she did something nasty like strangle puppies for fun and profit or was just a horrible person to be around the exterior was definitely enough to get someone interested, at least for the dating part. Almost immediately after thinking that, though, it dawned on me that if she was involved with Horatio and the X-Files and stuff like safehouses and magical wardproof lipstick she probably didn't have time for silly stuff like deciding on which restaurant to go to on a Saturday night. It was also while thinking such things that I noticed a small circle on her left boob started blinking with a red light.

"Uh..."

"Yes? What is it, Professor?"

"Your boob is flashing. Light. There's a light flashing on your boob."

"Bloody fucking hell!" She stood up immediately, knocking over the chair, and pulled open her robe, revealing a tasteful cream-coloured jumper and a pulsing red light. "Now, we've got to move! NOW!"

She ran over to the bookshelf, waved her wand and the bookshelf moved out of the way revealing a gleaming black surface. After she stowed her wand in her robe Daphne put both hands on the black surface, murmured words that I couldn't hear and a door opened. "Quick, inside!"

As I hurried over there I remembered something in the recesses of my memory, the black door, something familiar...

"In!"

She shoved me through the doorway and moments later joined me, the door shutting with a solid thunk that sounded like we'd been closed in a tomb. Almost as soon as the door was fully closed it disappeared and seemed to blend into the solid black walls as if it had never existed. I had the words to my question at my lips but they died away as I heard, and felt, the explosion rock around us.

As debris continued to make sounds outside I remembered exactly what had been edging around the fringes of my memory. A black door, opened with hands on it and a word, a room that was safe from all magic. I'd been in one before, on the night of my bachelor party when the WLF fuckers attacked. No magic in or out.

"Daphne, this is one of those magic-free safe rooms, isn't it?"

"Yes." Her tone was slightly worried. "My proximity alert went off and I followed procedure. It automatically notifies Horatio, but we're here for a while. Better get comfortable."

"Won't he be here right away?"

She shrugged. "He's in Brazil undercover. Delicate operation. We're safe, though." After a quick look at her watch she sighed. "Hopefully there are enough supplies."

Thankfully there were enough supplies, enough to last more than a month. My heart sank as I thought about being trapped in the black room for that long. What would they tell Melody? Did Draco get away? What about my absence at the conference, would that send the Aurors into action? And what about Melody, at home with the kids, what it be like for her when the Aurors came to tell her that I was missing and nobody knew where I was? I only hoped that Draco could somehow get word to her that I was ok. If he made it out, that is.

The black saferooms didn't allow magic in or out, you couldn't send a Patronus or break in with magic, but that didn't mean that magically enchanted items didn't work. I've never been so happy to see an enchanted toilet in all my life, as the thought of buckets or other things piling up in the corner of the room made me a little queasy. The enchanted fridge and stove worked fine, but there were a couple of problems, one being the bed. Since magic was nullified in the room there was no way that Daphne could transfigure anything into another bed, so we were left with one single bed. Obviously the saferoom planners didn't expect more than one person being in there for any length of time. We decided on shifts in the bed. I knew better than to try and tell Mel that there was only one bed and...yeah, no matter how I spun that it wouldn't go well.

The first day was spent with Daphne answering all my questions. Well, the ones that she could or would answer, anyway. She started off working at the Department of Mysteries out of Hogwarts. Apparently being Slytherin is not a detriment to working in that department, unlike some of the other departments, evident by the distaste which Daphne described interviewing for other positions. She'd worked there for a little while until she had a meeting with Horatio McLellin. Apparently he found her distaste for some of the more stodgy elements of the Ministry similar to his and had offered her a job. It wasn't the Invisibles, exactly, but it wasn't far from it, which made me wonder how many shadowy organizations existed in all strata of the wizarding world. She had been working behind the scenes in many of the big events that had gone on that I knew about. She'd done undercover work on the WLF during the whole Cassandra Palliurum shit that I'd gone through, for example. Other than that she wouldn't say too much, give too many particulars. I figured that was for the best.

Once I'd satiated my curiosity about her background she filled me in on what she knew about the current bullshit with the WLF and the Potter Adventure Series. My idea of multiple authors was correct, Galleons were being filtered through non-Gringotts magical banks in the UMS to several sham companies and then to other sham companies and then, yet again, to other sham companies finally making their way into the coffers of the WLF. In Switzerland. That was what brought her to the hotel; she was meeting Draco to exchange information and to see about her sister.

Astoria. There was a subject that was brought up briefly, and when that topic came about the veneer of secret agent or whatever she was simply dropped away. For that conversation we both sat on the bed, and the sadness in her voice was heartbreaking. Daphne wasn't the one who longed for the house, picket fence and two point five kids to attend Hogwarts, that was Astoria. Astoria had always wanted to be a mother with a large family, and now that she'd been hit with that mystery magic-wasting disease and paralysed it was never going to happen except for Scorpius. I put my arm around her in sympathy and after a moment's hesitation she let me hold her. I felt the same, in some respects. I knew how much Draco wanted to change the name Malfoy, to make it a name his son and wife could be proud of, how he'd moved to New Orleans to give them both a better chance of that, but fate had different plans.

That was the night we got drunk.

After that sad conversation Daphne got up, rummaged around in one of the storage boxes and brought out two bottles of firewhiskey. After thinking of Draco, Astoria and Scorpius it made me wish even harder that I was at home with Mel and the kids, at Hogwarts kicking back with a beer in Neville's room or even off on one of George Weasley's stupid triple-W trips that I always got talked into and regretted later. Any of that, but mostly I just wanted to be home with my wife.

Daphne knew about me, of course, since she worked with Horatio. She didn't know all the details, so as my bottle started emptying I gave her my story. How Mel and I met, our dating attempts (I left out the really good parts after that Harpies thing), how I knew about the saferooms from my bachelor party, my involvement in the Cassandra Palliurum and missing Muggle Studies professors, stuff like that. Well, I told her what I could without having Harry and Ron skin me alive, anyway. Somehow or other I mentioned that I had dated a witch before I came to Hogwarts, and then it was on to Eittel and everything that happened lately.

"So, a witch before Melody?"

I nodded and took a deep swig of firewhiskey from my spot on the floor. For some reason I'd given up sitting on the bed and was cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the bed. "Yep. American. UMSian. Whatever you call it. She's some hot shit photographer now, Christine Rowan. Um. Rowan Wright, yeah, that's it. Her real name."

"Really?" She leaned forward in the chair by the desk. "I've seen her photographs. The fashion shots. Wonderful."

"I'll take your word for it."

"What else do you know about her? Since..."

"Since she dumped my ass and just showed up at my mother-in-law's charity thing? Ummm...shit. Divorced, gotta kid from first marriage. Long term thing with some dude."

"Dude." She laughed. "Dude. Are you a bloody surfer?"

"Shut up. No, just slips out when I've been drinking. Old roommate's fault. And my brother's." I looked at her for a moment. "What? What'dya know?"

"Her parents? What do you know?"

I shrugged. "Not much. She said her dad's some UMS ministry type that keeps the secrecy agreements and her mom's some society lady. That's it, really. Why?"

"Archibald Lee Wright is the head of the Security Division in the UMS. They're a very proper family. Wealthy enough, but the position is the thing for him. Horatio's dealt with him a time or two about...things, but they don't see eye to eye. His wife, Patience, is from a very common family. Do you see?"

I did. If old Patience had found her way into the upper strata of American witchy society she would do anything to keep up appearances, and that would definitely mean not letting her precious daughter date or, Merlin forbid, marry a Muggle. Especially a Muggle like me, looking like I did back then.

"Yeah. I got it. Probably wouldn't have worked out anyways." I took a long pull from the bottle. "I was young, fucking immature and probably more in love with the idea of being in love than in love with her."

"That's..." Daphne tilted her head and nodded. "That's a very good description of being young and in love."

"Experience?"

She shook her head forcefully. "No. I'm not telling you that."

"Suit yourself." I took another drink. "So now what?

"Please don't tell me you're going to start singing again."

"Hey, not my fault this place is so fucking quiet. Wish I had my WUMP."

She made a disgusted noise. "Would you shut up about that bloody thing."

"It's too goddamned quiet! I mean, shit, your farts sound like a cannon."

She opened her mouth to speak but couldn't. In my inebriated state it was the funniest thing ever. I cupped my hands around my mouth and said 'Slytherin farts...BOOM!' and moved my hands away as if an explosion happened.

"Oh...fuck you, Hank."

"FINALLY!" I stood up, went over to her and clinked my bottle against hers. "I knew I'd wear you down eventually."

"You have a mouth like a loo."

"True." I reached over and nudged her on the arm before I went back and sat down on the bed. "These last few days would have cost me a ton of money for the swearing book." As my words hung in the air it hit me that, even as inebriated as I was, the sense of dread and worry had returned to the conversation. "How long have we been in here?"

"Eight days." She stared at her watch. "Eight days."

We sat there in silence for who knows how long. Eventually I reached into my pocket and brought out a coin that had ended up in my pocket somehow, an American quarter from before I was born. "Flip you for the bed?"

"No." She turned back to the desk. "You take it."

With her back turned I took off my tweed trousers, socks and t-shirt and slipped into bed. The moment I was prone on the bed the lights automatically dimmed in the black room. I looked over to her before I turned over to sleep, and watched as she slowly took a sip from the bottle before putting her head in her hands.

-ooo-

The dream started out normally enough as dreams do, I guess. I was in my classroom at Hogwarts, waiting for students to arrive, but they were late. I kept looking at my watch but they still hadn't arrived. Finally an old man walked in, white-haired and wearing the old great-kilt in a MacDonald hunting tartan. He sat at one of the tables as if he was waiting for class to start and I didn't do a thing, just let him sit there as if he was a normal student. Then my gran, Granny Boyd, walked in and sat at a different table, looking as I remembered her from when I was little, the same apron with pockets and little flowers in the material. That didn't do anything to spur me to action, either, as I kept looking at my watch. When Dr. Eittel walked in and sat down at the table, that finally got me to act.

Oddly I started class, the first year lesson on mobile telephones. I finished up my lecture and then the old man got up to hand in his parchment. As he got closer I noticed that half of his head looked like it'd been smashed in, but he smiled at me, winked and put on a soft cap and disappeared. Dr. Eittel was next, he came up, handed me his parchment and then put his hands on my shoulders. He didn't say a word, but smiled as if he was proud of me and disappeared just like the old man. Finally, Granny came up to me but she didn't hand in parchment like the others. Instead she reached into the front pocket of her apron, took out her hand and pressed it into mine. She hugged me, and it felt as it did all those years ago. I bent down my head and she kissed me...

"Hank!" Daphne shook me. "Hank, wake up."

"Hmmmm..." I rubbed my hand over my face. "Dreaming."

"What was the dream, lad?"

That wasn't Daphne's voice. I rubbed my eyes and there, standing in front of me, big beard and all, was Horatio McLellin.

"Horatio...am I glad to see you!"

"Later, later." He waved me off. "The dream?"

I sat up in bed, wrapped the sheet around my waist and told them the dream. As I told them Horatio and Daphne kept glancing at each other. Finally, Daphne stepped forward.

"May I see your hands?"

"Uh, sure." I held out my hands to Daphne. She turned them over so the palms were facing upward and there, on the palm of my hand that my Gran had taken in my dream, were faint letters pressed into my skin like I'd been holding onto something and it left an imprint.

"Thuaidh I Bhfolach." She half-whispered and looked at me. "Mean anything to you?"

"Nope. You?"

She shook her head. "Horatio?"

He came forward, took my hand and stared as the words disappeared, leaving only the usual lines on my palm. "Yes. It's just a story, a legend, but you lot know what that usually means."

Fuck. I did know what that usually meant, and it typically wasn't good. "Tell you what, guys, let's play dream interpreter after I get my pants on."

Horatio snickered and looked over at Daphne. "You know he's married, right? What will his wife say, him starkers under there, you two alone..."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Oh fuck off, I've got on underwear. Trousers, trousers, let me put on my goddamned trousers. Brits. Jesus."

Breakfast was obtained in someplace called Brindley Ford near Stoke-on-Trent. Neither one of them would tell me exactly where I'd spent over a week in a saferoom, either for my own sake or because of some spell that wouldn't let them. I prefered to think it was because of magic, that they'd both sprout horns in the middle of their foreheads or something like that, but it was probably because of something much more mundane like security reasons. The three of us sat outside, watching cars go by, far enough away from everything that we just looked like normal, non-wizarding people thanks to some spell that Horatio did.

Thankfully Horatio had answered my most pressing question before I'd even put on my shoes in the safehouse; Melody and the kids were fine. Draco had managed to get out of the situation and had contacted Harry Potter, so Harry and the Aurors had been keeping watch on her and the kids from a very discreet distance away so she wouldn't know anything was wrong. The official story, for Mel and everybody else, was that one of the Muggle Studies professors had invited me to a separate, non-official conference because of the politics involved with the official conference and I was unable to communicate because of the remote location in the Swiss mountains. I knew that would go over with Mel about as well as lighting up a cigar in bed, but I figured I'd fill her in later.

Cigars were a good thing, though, as Horatio had handed me one as soon as we got outside. It wasn't a great one, by any stretch of the imagination, kind of cheap and a little harsh, but at that point I didn't care. As I puffed away he looked over to Daphne.

"Ok, care to try your interpretation?"

She finished off a bite of sausage roll and nodded, then looked to me. "Three travelers from the past, all family in some form. The three travelers always provide information, the last one is obvious, Thuaidh I Bhfolach was on his hand. I don't know about the other two, though."

I took another puff off of the cigar. "And what the hell is Thu...The...whatever that place is, anyway?"

Horatio raised his eyebrows for a moment. "Thuaidh I Bhfolach. It's a legend, supposedly a hidden island north of the Shetlands. Faerie island. Some bloke, ages ago, followed a faerie to the island and claimed its gold. Faerie let'em have the gold, but vanished the island. Can't very well spend any gold if the island isn't there no more, can you?"

"Great." I took off my glasses and wiped my face. "So now I'm back in England, after a portkey kiss in Switzerland, my dead Granny shows up in a dream and is telling me to go to some island that doesn't exist, but if it does exist some freaking faerie made it disappear ages ago. Fucking wonderful." I puffed for a minute. "And what's this crap about the three travelers?"

"Dream pattern." Daphne cut across Horatio before he could answer. "In dreams travelers appear in threes, usually to give a person information. Interpretation for the travelers corresponds with the past, the present and the future."

"Past, present..." I put my glasses back on, somewhat perturbed. "They're all from the past. Gran's dead, so's Eittel and I have no idea who the other guy was."

"Dent-Head MacDonald." Horatio smiled. "A distant ancestor, correct?"

"Well, yeah, but he didn't do anything like give me a message. He just fucking winked at me."

"The past." Daphne nodded. "If you ever had any doubt that you were magical, or magic existed in your blood, there you go."

"Great." I shook my head. "I already know that. So what about Eittel? He's in my past as well."

"Not necessarily." Daphne pursed her lips in thought. "You are currently working on the books, and he's left you books with notations." She shrugged. "The present."

"And the future's pretty much a given with your Gran." Horatio looked at me rather intently, as if he was trying to see into my brain and watch a dream that had passed. "She's telling you where to go next."

I sat there for a few seconds and then, well, I blew up. "Listen. Dreams and shit are great if you're a seer and stuff but I'm not. I'm a Muggle Studies professor. A Muggle Studies professor who has been in a fucking black room for eight days and needs to get back to school, not only that but I need to get back to my family. Melody's going to be pissed as hell. I mean, fuck, can't you guys contact the Aurors or the AAB or whoever the hell is dealing with this and leave me out of it?" I stood up and waved my arms. "I mean, do you have a fucking clue where the hell..."

"Thuaidh I Bhfolach." Daphne glanced over to Horatio and then back to me.

"Yeah, that place, do you even know if it exists or how to get there?"

"No." Horatio walked over next to me, standing very close, close enough that I could see a few tiny bits of breakfast in his beard. "But I know someone who can help. They should be here shortly. And as for you, Hank..." He sighed and put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm afraid you'll have to come with us for the time being. For your safety."

"For my safety. For my safety. Right." I spun away from him and puffed madly on the cigar. I stayed there, smoking and looking at absolutely nothing in the distance, until the pop of Apparition caught my attention. I turned around and there, speaking to Horatio, was a wizard in a blue robe. The blue robe of the AAB. "What the fuck?" I said it out loud but nobody paid any attention so I headed over there.

From the moment I got closer I heard the voice, and it sounded familiar. I knew that voice from somewhere. Then, realizing I was approaching, the three of them turned around.

Horatio looked to the AAB agent. "I'd like you to meet..."

The agent took down his cowl, smiled at me and then laughed. "Don't worry, Horatio. I know him. He's Auror Ben Kenobi."

As soon as he said that the lights went on. "Agent Wright! Small world, eh? So you're the faerie expert?"

"Hmmm...some say that, they do." He turned and noticed the surprise on Daphne and Horatio's faces. "Hank and I go way back. Well, back to when he and the AAB first crossed paths, anyway." He held out his hand to Daphne. "Ezekiel Wright, AAB, at your service. You can call me Zeke."

"Daphne Greengrass." She shook his hand, glanced at me for a split-second and then tilted her head towards him. "Are you any relation to Rowan Wright, the photographer?"

"Rowan? She's my cousin."

Daphne smiled. "Oh, I think we'll have lots to talk about. Won't we, Hank."

Fuck.