Disclaimer: The world of magic might be ours, but Harry Potter belongs to JK.
Welcome to Chapter Seven, readers. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my truly wonderful and helpful reviewers.
Obsidian Sage: Thank you very much for the 'well written' comment- honestly, there is no greater compliment! I'm so glad you like the feel of this story- I loved writing it. I hope you keep reading and that the later chapters don't end up disappointing you!
Jadzania: I'm very pleased that you like Marla- I'm aware new characters are hard to warm to. As for Marla and Voldemort, my intention was to develop their previous relationship as a series of flashbacks throughout the story, in a bid to show Marla's continual infatuation with that lost 'bond' (not quite a bond as Voldemort wouldn't let himself get attached to anybody) and her determination to regain the closeness she misses so much. You mentioned the Death Eaters- Macnair, Crabbe and Malfoy are wizarding names that we recognise- Abraxas is Draco's grandfather, Crabbe is Vincent Crabbe's grandfather, and Macnair is the father of Walden Macnair, who was assigned to be Buckbeak's executioner. Avery and Lestrange are away with Lord Voldemort with Wormtail-like occupations- they don't feature much in my story. As for the others... you'll just have to wait to find out! Thank you and keep reading!
H. Merrill: Oh I do appreciate the Gatsby link! That was exactly what I was going for without even realising it. For anyone who hasn't read "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald, if you look up Gatsby's infatuation with Daisy, it perfectly mirrors Marla's infatuation with Voldemort. Excellent observation!
SaintRidley: Thanks for the spelling correction- I will aim to have the McNairs changed to Macnairs as soon as possible. I also hadn't heard JK's stance on Voldemort and the Patronus- I'll put it down to creative licence though I'll keep privilege to a minimum. I'm not one to argue with canon! Hope you stick with the story and keep reviewing!
I guess I ought to apologise for the awfully long author's note: enjoy Chapter Seven!
Chapter Seven- The Wrong Hands
Lord Voldemort had left the next morning and as Abraxas and Marla entered the drawing room, they could see apprehension in the faces of the Death Eaters gathered there. Abraxas glanced at Marla before joining the others who, she noticed, were looking up resentfully expectantly at her.
"What?" she asked warily, eyes narrowed.
Locke rolled her eyes and sneered at Marla. "We're under you , Voltaire- what do you want?" Marla started, realising what Voldemort's absence meant for her.
"Oh," she said, looking to Abraxas for prompting, but he folded his arms and perched on the side table. Eye's widening, she fumbled in her robes for a cigarette. "A light wouldn't go amiss." She suggested. Abraxas waved his wand lazily and her cigarette was lit. "Right," she said, gaining confidence rapidly, "Right, Lowman, you know all about the Azkaban ... mission... assignment, right?"
"-Ehem," Marla look up at the sound of Abraxas clearing his throat. "I do," Abraxas interjected.
"Good. Fill Lowman in please, Malfoy." Marla looked around at everyone else. "What do you all want?"
Macnair, Lowman and Crabbe exchanged dark glances, leaving Marla feeling suddenly out of her depths. "Do you want us to go to work or do we stay and plan the assignment?" Lowman asked pointedly. Marla sighed.
This isn't what I signed up for, she thought.
"Do you know what?"she asked, looking around the room, "I don't care. Abraxas fill everyone in, then you can all go to work if you want to. Malfoy, plan the assignment. Use Lowman's information where necessary. Everyone else, do what you want. You're not going to be missed." She threw her cigarette stub into the fire and stalked to the pantry to find a house elf. Lowman followed her as the others left the Manor to Apparate.
Marla turned around at the footsteps, registering Lowman's presence. "Shouldn't you be with Malfoy?" she asked pointedly. He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. For someone Marla had pegged as being rule abiding and orderly, Lowman's behaviour had her suddenly wary. "What do you want, Lowman?" she asked.
Lowman picked his words carefully. "I was wondering if I could help with the planning." He said, smiling nervously at Marla but she saw right through the facade. She shook her head.
"You have to keep the Minister under your control, I think that's a big enough responsibility, don't you Lowman?"
Lowman frowned. "I'm the one who knows everything about the protection around Azkaban, Voltaire. I did all the research. I risked my job and my neck for that information. I deserve to be part of the planning." He was shouting now.
"Malfoy plans, you babysit the Minister." She said calmly, but her palms were clammy and her heart rate raised. She reached discreetly for her wand.
Lowman scoffed. "Didn't seem so negative about babysitting the Minister yesterday, did you Voltaire?" he sneered. Marla ignored him so he carried on. "Tell me, I'm babysitting, Malfoy plans... what will you be doing?"
Marla's face grew hot as her temper rose. "I will be carrying out Lord Voldemort's orders," she shouted, "As should you be!"
Lowman's expression changed at the mention of Lord Voldemort's name and he became subdued. Marla's anger escalated and she drew out her wand. "Go to work, Lowman. Follow my orders. Never question me, do you understand?" Lowman nodded and left the room, his face distorted into an ugly expression.
Marla glared around the room for a house elf. "Elf!" she cried, and one appeared before her.
"Yes, ma'am?" it asked, looking at the floor.
Marla hesitated, no longer feeling hungry. She drew out a cigarette. "Get me a light." she mumbled, distracted.
ooo
Marla found Abraxas in the drawing room alone later that day. He was pouring over scrolls of parchment adorned with the Ministry crest. He glanced over at her and put down his quill.
"I was looking for you before," he said, "after Lowman told me what you said." Marla raised an eyebrow. "Where were you?"
Marla had spent the rest of the morning searching the dusty cupboards and closets of Hephzibah's Manor. Her episode with Lowman had left her feeling disjointed so she had retreated to her comfort zone. Lord Voldemort had clearly removed everything of magical significance and Marla made a mental note to enquire after their location but he had left some interesting valuable and historical artefacts- artefacts that were now charmed to invisibility in Marla's bedchamber.
"Well, anyway," Abraxas continued at her silence, "he's given me all the information I need so I'm ready to begin. I was wondering if you knew the extent of our resources."
"It's just us." She replied simply, "No one else, no weapons- wizards with wands."
Abraxas nodded. "Then we don't have a chance in hell." He rubbed his temple, reminding Marla strongly of Lord Voldemort.
"We've been up against worse." She said, distracted.
"We haven't!"
Marla frowned at Abraxas. "No- I mean the Dark Lord and I- we've been up against worse." Something flashed behind Abraxas's eyes and he turned back to the parchment.
"Abraxas, get us a strategy that means a few of us will come out alive and I'll sort out the rest, ok?" Abraxas nodded and began scribbling furiously.
Marla left the room.
ooo
"I can't travel anymore tonight, Tom." Marla mumbled, half asleep. They were walking through a deserted market place, broomsticks transfigured and safely stowed away. It had become suddenly cold at dusk and a desert wind had found its way into the walls of the old city. Tom glanced at her half closed lids and sighed.
"Ok," he said, pointing to a narrow door across the street. It was accompanied by a grubby plaque that read 'RiadMarak'. "There's a hostel there."
They walked across the dusty street and tried the handle. It was locked. Tom banged loudly on the door as Marla wrapped her travelling cloak tightly around her. A small boy answered the door and started speaking rapidly in Arabic. Tom pushed past him into the narrow tiled corridor that lead to a makeshift reception area in front of a wall of brass keys. The boy began shouting loudly and a robed, greying man hobbled in. His yellow eyes studied the couple.
The young boy began speaking to him quickly and the old man nodded, never taking his eyes off Tom. He plucked a key from the back wall, then held out his hand.
"He wants paying," Marla nudged Tom. Tom took out his money bag and pretended to place something in the old man's outstretched palm. Marla Confounded him discreetly. The man gave them the key and signalled for them to follow the young boy to their room.
They locked the door behind them as they entered the shabby room. The low bed was covered in brightly coloured but dusty blankets and the badly fitted windows let in a cruel draught. Tom fixed it with his wand and turned to Marla who was dusting off the sheets on the bed He watched her in silence, before turning down the gas lamps and removing his travelling cloak.
"We'll stay only till-" he began but Marla had climbed under the sheets, still fully dressed and Tom strongly suspected she was already asleep. He removed his shoes and joined her.
ooo
The next morning, Marla woke Tom up. She had washed and brought up food from downstairs.
"Food, Tom," she said, pushing the window open slightly and peering outside. It was still very early and though the sun had not yet fully come up, the Moroccan traders were already setting out their merchandise. She walked back over to the bed and picked up a crusty bread roll. He was sat up, listening intently.
"We've got two weeks before we have to be back in London," she reminded him, "so we have to find the Cave Scrolls and something for Borgin." Tom looked up from his breakfast. "I was thinking," she continued, "after we've found the Scrolls and you've read them, why don't we hand them-" but Tom had anticipated her suggestion.
"We aren't given them to Borgin, Marla," he said darkly, "they' re mine."
Marla fell quiet, and she ripped apart her bread roll a little more roughly than was necessary. "Tom," she finally started, but he put his hand up to stop her.
"If you're worried about your job, you go off and find something, but only after we have the scrolls."
"Oh, come on," Marla said, exasperated, "You've only been with us for four months, and you're risking your job, Tom?" She could see he was getting restless with her questions but her temper was rising. Her job was all she had, and here she was risking it for Tom on a whim. Knowing better than to lose her temper around Tom, she reasoned with him. "I got us this field time off Borgin with the promise we'd bring back something valuable. Please Tom, I'll lose my job if we don't bring back something good."
Tom studied her and nodded. "You're right, Marla," he finally said, "I appreciate your assistance- I really do. I'll find you something of value- but only AFTER we find the Scrolls." He smiled at her slightly before pushing away his breakfast at the sound of the crowds outside getting louder. "Let's go before it gets too busy to Apparate discreetly."
Marla rolled her eyes. "We can't Apparate far, Tom, without risking being tracked by international authorities." They had decided to travel unofficially to avoid suspicion from the Magical Ministries. Tom got out of bed and yawned, seemingly distractedly
"I know. We'll Apparate to the Moroccan border and fly out of Africa over the mountains. We'll reach the valley by nightfall if we're quick." He smiled convincingly at Marla who shrugged.
"If you say so, Tom, but on your head be it if we get stopped at border control."
He grinned at her. "I'd like to see them try."
ooo
Marla ran down the stairs of Hephzibah Manor calling out for Abraxas. He rushed into the hallway, looking alarmed.
"What's wrong?" he asked, eyeing her frantic state.
Marla grabbed him by the arms. "I know how we can get into Azkaban." She smirked at him, a maniacal expression spreading over her face. "I know how we can get our charges out!"
Review time- did you hate it? Did you like it? Are you completely confused? Hope to hear from you, my much loved readers! All reviews are helpful, appreciated and personally replied to!