A/N. If any of you are wondering about Mag's accent, I'll just clear that up now.
From the beginning, Mag didn't have a very strong French accent. She was raised speaking the Queen's English by her governesses. For a while, she couldn't really make the "h" sound like and English person would, but from months of being at Moony's with mainly English teachers and students, she has practiced enough that she can. Her accent becomes more pronounced when she's angry, but is otherwise barely noticeable, except for with some very specific words.
Also, a lot happens in this chapter and it happens kind of fast. Fair warning.
…~oOo~…
Chapter Seventeen: In Which There Are More Tunnels
"I think we're in the sewer," Mag said, her voice echoing around them. They dodged trails of water and heaps of garbage in the big underground pipe.
Chelsea shook her head. "An old sewer maybe." It hadn't been used in years, Chelsea figured.
They walked in silence for a bit. Their map had nothing on it about the sewer systems, so they'd decided to just walk now that they were out of danger. The only things in the big pipe were rats and litter that probably fell through drains in the streets. And one sleeping homeless person that they had tip-toed past.
"How did you know?" Mag asked finally. "About the hole in the floor of the loo?"
Chelsea's ears were still ringing from that episode and didn't want to think about it. So she just shrugged. Luckily, Mag became distracted when they came upon a fork in the sewer. They chose the left, but it wasn't long before they came to a dead-end.
"Let's go back around," Mag said, turning back and starting towards the fork.
But Chelsea didn't follow her, at least not yet. Chelsea stared at the dead end and wondered why it seemed so strange to her. Until she saw it. It was barely noticeable, but there was a dent in the obstructing wall. No, not a dent. A carving.
"Mag," Chelsea said, staring at the carving in wonder. She could not imagine how this kept happening to her. The symbol. The triangle, circle, and line. The same one from the handkerchief and from the pocketwatch. It looked like an impression, like it'd been pushed into the stone wall. Like a fossil.
Chelsea had an epiphany.
Maybe… just, maybe…
Chelsea put down her bag. It was pretty heavy and it was a relief to have it off her shoulder. She rummaged through it until she found it. The pocketwatch. She looked at the impression in the wall and then at the watch. It was the same size. They could have been twins.
Holding the watch carefully, Chelsea matched it up with the impression and pushed it into place. They clicked together perfectly. Key and lock. The floor rumbled under their feet as the stone wall began to lift itself, clearing the way and revealing a much older, much darker tunnel.
"I don't know how you do it," Mag said in awe. "But you're a miracle worker, Chelsea Baker."
…~oOo~…
So Adam was pretty hacked off. At everyone. He was angry with his stupid professors and angry with his stupid Muggle heritage and, most of all, angry with Chelsea. How could she have run away? Without telling him! Without asking him to come along! She knew how miserable he'd been about going home – he'd have loved to go on an adventure with her, even if it meant tolerating the overbearing, bossy, moody Mag.
What had happened that she felt she couldn't at least tell Adam her plan? He wouldn't have told, she knew that.
And he'd kissed her and everything.
Adam sighed and slammed his trunk shut, locking it. He started dragging it out of his room and towards the main staircase. It was heavy, but he didn't care. At the staircase, he found Yvette struggling with her own trunks, one in each hand, grunting as she pushed lifted them down step after step, dropping it on her toe and howling in frustration.
With a sigh, Adam walked down the steps to catch up to where she'd made it about halfway.
"Do you need help?"
"I don't need help from you," Yvette sneered, not looking at him as she moved one blue trunk down one more step. She was panting from the process, but looked determined. Her blonde hair hung in two braids over her shoulders. She was still her in pink fleece pajama set with matching slippers.
"Don't know what you're pissed about," Adam grumbled, glaring at her.
"Yes, well, in case you've forgotten, you weren't the only one left behind!" Yvette snapped. She harrumphed.
Adam rolled his eyes. "Please! As if you would've gone with them! You've been dying to get home since you've gotten here! And now your wish has come true, so don't snap at me when you're getting exactly what you wanted."
"They could have at least offered!" Yvette pushed. "It would be the courteous thing to do!"
"You hate them – and this place!"
"No, I don't!" Yvette yelled, stopping in her tracks and turning to face him. "I don't hate any of you! And I… I don't mind it here." Her cheeks turned pink with agitation and embarrassment as she admitted, "I never minded it here. At first I did, sure, but mostly because I missed my family and friends. Now… now, all of you are my…" She pursed her lips, glowered at him and said, "Forget it. It doesn't matter. We're going home."
Frowning in confusion at Yvette's odd behavior – because, naturally, boys are quite clueless – and followed behind Yvette as she struggled with those trunks. He patiently followed behind to make sure she didn't tumble down the stairs in her efforts.
…~oOo~…
"Look at this!" Margot hissed in the darkness of the tunnels they now explored. No one was there, not a single homeless person, not even the rats. Margot was at one of the walls. There were words carved there. "It says 'Tomes and Scrolls'." She looked up. "Do you think we're under that shop?"
Chelsea looked up as well, but nodded. "I do."
"The twins never told us there were these tunnels! They're not even on the map!"
"I don't think they knew…" Chelsea whispered. "I don't think many people do."
They looked around at the desolation. The sheer emptiness of these tunnels. Dust, cobwebs, dirt – but not a single living creature other than themselves. They didn't hear the tittering of mice or see webs from spiders, or any type of bug. It was eery.
They continued walking and Margot discovered before long that each shop was labelled on the wall. But never the Weasleys' shop or any other places.
"I wonder why some are missing," Margot mused, looking at the map and comparing the names on the walls to the buildings on the paper.
"This tunnel is too old," Chelsea guessed. "And the shops are too new."
Margot nodded and they continued walking.
They walked for a long time.
…
It was two in the morning by the time it was Adam's turn to be returned home. He watched as Yvette was perched on the back of that huge motorbike and taken away into the sky, heard her excited squeal fade off.
Adam was the last muggle-born to be brought home. He'd specifically asked for it to be that way. He wanted to be at Moony's Academy for as long as possible in case Chelsea was returned. Alas, he waited while he watched each muggle-born be taken away one by one. He drank a cup of coffee to stay away, to keep his eyes open until absolutely necessary. He stood by the window in the sitting room, looking out at the front lawn and up at the stars.
Before he knew it, he heard footsteps enter the room behind him. When he looked over his shoulder, he found Miss Granger standing there with an apologetic look on her face and a set of car keys in her hand. She did seem sincerely sorry, but if she really meant it, she would have let him stay – or at least, that's how he saw it.
With a deep frown, Adam said, "I know." And he dragged his trunk out to the car.
He sat in the passenger's side, his arms crossed over his chest, his head back and his eyes closed. He didn't even open them for when he felt the car lift into the sky. He didn't want to think about any of it, or even enjoy it. It would all be over soon.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to say goodbye to Chelsea," his teacher said, breaking the silence after about ten minutes.
"Then turn around," Adam said stubbornly.
"I can't," Miss Granger said, sounding profoundly sad. "I brought you children into this world selfishly. I wanted you to learn and enjoy magic the way I did, and I wanted to be the one to show you how brilliant it can be – but I should have known that was impossible. I've lost all control over my students, myself, and the entire school that I was supposed to be in charge of. I can only apologize."
"You didn't do that bad of a job," Adam grumbled begrudgingly.
"That's sweet, but you don't know the half of it."
"I know that you're with Mr. Malfoy and you shouldn't be."
Hermione Granger didn't say anything, unsure of how to respond and hoped to pass it off as focusing on driving.
"It's okay, though," Adam said with a shrug. "I don't care. Before, I wanted you to be happy, but now… now I don't think anyone deserves to be happy."
"Adam, this isn't the end of your relationship with magic."
"Yes, it is."
"Only for a while," Hermione promised. "Only until you can return to the wizarding world under safer terms."
Adam huffed and rolled his eyes. "How do any of you expect to win a war if all you do is protect and coddle everyone? Don't you need soldiers? Nothing gets done if your focus is preserving everyone."
Hermione paused and glanced over at the angry boy. "It's all we can do."
"Bollocks," Adam muttered under his breath. "You're all just scared."
"Of course we are!" Hermione snapped, unable to hold back anymore. "We're terrified! Each and every last one of us – even Malfoy, even the Weasley twins, even Professor McGonagall. We've seen battle, you know. We all fought in the war. And we lost, Adam. We lost because we put all our faith in one, poor boy who didn't deserve all that responsibility – and you know what? It meant nothing in the end! Looking back, we all feel monumentally stupid and, yes, scared."
Adam looked at his teacher. She was looking at him with wide eyes, raw with her fear. She went on, "My friends died. My roommate…died. Teachers who helped me become who I am…died. I lost everything I cared about because I was a child made into a soldier by a man who felt the same way you did. He felt that soldiers were necessary, that warm bodies were needed to win wars, that coddling everyone would get us nowhere. Well, we still ended up nowhere."
Adam said nothing and Hermione allowed him time to let it all sink in. She understood how he felt, but he needed to understand that he did not see the big picture. He only knew the walls of Mould-on-the-Wold when it came to magic. He'd been sheltered from the world outside and knew nothing of the true hell that wizarding Britain was in.
They were floating over Adam's home town, the car invisible to the Muggles, and as they got closer to his home, Hermione felt something dark stir in her gut. She wasn't sure what it was. But the night seemed almost too still, like it was frozen in time.
And that's when she saw it.
Hovering over Adam's house, clear as the stars themselves, was a smoky green skull with a snake winding in and out of its eye and mouse. The Dark Mark.
…~oOo~…
The sun was about the rise. The sky was no longer black, it was a light indigo. Stars were visible no more and the moon pale.
And only one house on a certain London street was awake.
"I could kill the two of you!" Draco roared at the twins. They were in Grimmauld Place in the meeting room. "You've ruined any chances of us finding them. The ink has turned black, which you say means they've left Diagon Alley, which means they can be anywhere in London, or if they've gotten a bus, anywhere in the country!" In his frustration, Draco threw a book that had been left on the table at the twins' heads.
They both ducked out of the way and their eyes widened comically. They looked uncomfortable and worried, but unashamed. Far be it from a Weasley twin to feel anything akin to shame.
"They got out of Diagon Alley without being snatched, though," George pointed out.
Fred nodded. "Which couldn't have been done without a map!"
"Without a map, they wouldn't have gone at all!" Draco hollered. "They wouldn't be so stupid! They knew what they needed to successfully run away, and you were all too happy to supply them with the final piece!"
Draco silenced when the door to the dining room opened and in walked Hermione, looking ashen and in shock.
"Hermione," Harry said from his corner of the room. He stood up to go to her, but Draco was already there, his hands on her shoulders, brushing her hair back from her face.
"What is it?" Draco demanded. "What happened?"
Her mouth opened, but no words came out, and her eyes were glassy. For a moment, Draco wondered if she had been cursed. She took herself out of Draco's arms to sit down and shakily poor herself a glass of water from the pitcher. Hands trembling, she raised it to her lips and took a sip.
One deep breath later, Hermione said, "Adam's family is dead."
The silence of the room was icy.
"The…Dark Mark was over his home…and I told him to stay in the car, but when I went inside…" Hermione ground the heels of her palms into her eyes. "All of them. Dead. Even his little sister."
"But…how?" Harry asked. "And why Adam? All of the other children…"
"You brought Yvette to her vacation home, because that's where her family had been staying," Hermione said hollowly. "I went by their usual home… every maid and butler and pony, dead. The same Dark Mark over it."
"And Chelsea's home?"
"Empty," Hermione reported. "It had been for months. Abandoned. Inches thick of dust everywhere. Her father must have left."
"Where's Adam?" Draco asked.
"At the Weasleys'," Hermione said, tears escaping. "He was so…out of control at first. Now he's just…catatonic. In shock, probably. God knows I am." She paused for a quivering breath. "Why now? Why tonight? How did they find them?"
"My father has records of the muggle-born names that have been banished from Hogwarts," Draco said. "If the Dark Lord wanted their addresses, he would have found them. What he wants with the muggle-borns, though, I don't know."
"Was he getting suspicious of the lack of accidental magic happening around the Muggles?" Harry guessed. "Maybe he went to check to see what was going on…"
"And he found the children gone," Hermione filled in, it dawning on her suddenly. She looked up at Draco in horror and said, "He knows someone's been collecting the muggle-borns."
"We have to contact the families immediately," Harry said, grabbing the keys to the motorbike. "The ones still alive. Before the Dark Lord finds them as well. Fred, George, get your broomsticks."
"Tell Krum, Lovegood, and Longbottom to join," Draco told him. "Send them a Patronus. The girls aren't in Diagon Alley. Give them all addresses, tell them to move the families immediately. Tell the families to go anywhere – family, vacation homes, inns, wherever. I'll update Hermione on what's happened with the girls."
They all fled out, making a game plan as they went. Hermione and Draco were left behind. Hermione looked up at Draco and said, "Please tell me you have good news about the girls."
"I'm afraid not," Draco said flatly.
Hermione face crumbled and she started sobbing. Draco didn't make a move to touch her – nothing could console her just then. Not his hands, not all the kisses in the world, nothing. She sobbed and shook and repeated over and over that it was all her fault, that the school had been her idea, that she was responsible for all those people's deaths. Draco stood beside her, watching her, but said nothing as she let it out.
Then they heard a loud crash and then a slammed down. Hermione and Draco looked at one another for a long time, waiting for someone to call out. They heard quiet voices.
Drawing his wands, Draco made his way to the kitchen door slowly. He swung it open, but the kitchen was empty of people. Draco spun around, doing a perimeter, muttered revealing spells. "Show yourself," Draco commanded at the thin air.
Then… a light, tentative knocking.
From the cellar door.
Blinking in confusion, Draco went over to the door slowly. He reached up to take the key off the frame – they kept the cellar locked, there was nothing special down there – and stuck it in the lock. With a quick twist, Draco kept his wand drawn, feeling Hermione's presence behind him, and threw the door open.
Hermione dropped her wand arm in shock. "Chelsea! Margot! What in the world…?"
They were both grimey and shocked to see their two teachers there.
Margot swore. "I knew we shouldn't have climbed up the first ladder we found! Of course it would be this house!"
"Professor," Chelsea uttered, her eyes downcast.
"You two have a lot of explaining to do," Draco hissed venomously, making both girls flinch.
"F-f-first…" Chelsea said, obviously deeply ashamed. "We have…something to show you."
And Chelsea took her teachers down the cellar steps to an old radio that they'd pushed aside to reveal a hole in the wall. A hole with that strange triangular symbol over it. Right there in the Grimmauld Place cellar.
"My God," Draco murmured. "I thought they'd closed them all off, collapsed them… The one in the Manor…"
"Draco, are these Grindelwald's tunnels?" Hermione asked in awe, crouching down to look down the hole. There was a rusty old ladder that went down into the darkness.
"They have to be," Draco said, touching the mark. "It makes sense, doesn't it? The Black family has always been blood supremacists. There was one from my own home, but following Grindelwald's capture, my grandfather sealed it off. As did all of Grindelwald's supporters. They didn't want the Ministry ever knowing how Grindelwald moved so many Dark objects and potions. Rumor has it there was a similar collection of runnels in the east that branched all through Russia as well."
"How far do the Britain tunnels?"
Draco shrugged. "No one knows for sure. All the way to Scotland, I'm sure. Grindelwald wanted access to all places of power, which meant Hogwarts, the Ministry itself, Diagon Alley, London… The tunnels go deeper than any cellar or train. But how they were opened…" He turned to the girls, his eyes hardening. "How did you open the tunnels?" he asked, his voice hard.
Hesitantly, her hand shaking, Chelsea put the pocketwatch in Draco's hand. "It was…like a key," Chelsea said slowly.
"And where in the hell did you find this?" Draco was on the edge of exploding. He felt Hermione put her hand on his shoulder, but it did little to calm him.
Chelsea's face scrunched up and they thought she was going to cry. But instead she covered her eyes and moaned like she was in pain.
"Chelsea?" Hermione said tentatively.
Chelsea uncovered her eyes abruptly and started looking about the room. Not at any of the people there, she seemed to just look right through them. For a moment, Hermione wondered if she'd suddenly gone blind, but no. It was more than that. It was like she was seeing something else entirely – something beyond the cellar.
"Chelsea!" Margot exclaimed, taking her friend by her bony shoulders. "Chelsea, what's wrong?" Margot looked over at her teachers. "She did this when we opened the tunnels! I have no idea what's wrong."
And when Chelsea came out of it, she said, visibly distraught, "Who is Regulus Black?"
…~oOo~…
~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~