Thanks for all your support, from all reviewers.

Chapter Seven

Charleston, West Virginia

Greg winced as he watched them slam the hot poker into the scaly side of the large gold dragon. The sound of pain it made scratched his ear drums and he wished that he never had gotten tangled up in this mess.

"How ya doin, Gregory?" shouted the man as he pulled the weapon from the creature's hide.

"Shitty," Greg answered, running a hand through his hair.

"And Chrissy? Did you tell her what her old man wanted?" the man asked.

"She's off to the school now, and she hasn't found it yet," Greg confided.

The man frowned and reached for another, much more painful looking weapon to use next. "She better hurry; I really don't want to kill Pierce," he said, but his sadistic grin said otherwise.

"I'll make a note of that to tell her, thanks," Greg said, his stomach churning as the man turned the instrument on. Without another word, Greg left the room, refusing to hear the dragon scream again.

The office was significantly quieter. Greg remembered walking through them as a young boy. Then, the building had been the head of magical affairs. Now, it was his boss's headquarters. Alvin Davis was in charge now, running the magical- and to an extent, the muggle- world in the way he saw fit. Fear and conformity being the primary tools.

"Greg, come in," Alvin said as Greg pushed open the door.

"Sir, I'm back from England," Greg said, keeping his head down as he addressed his senior.

"Obviously. Do you have the book?" Alvin asked.

"No sir, she says she can't find it."

One thing about Alvin's temper, you could always tell when he was angry because the temperature in the room always dropped below freezing.

"She can't find it?" he asked, sounding mildly interested.

"No, sir, she can't."

"Has it occurred to you that she's lying?"

"Yes, sir, but she seems pretty sincere. She requests a few more weeks-"

"Weeks? She's asking for weeks?"

Not really, Greg thought, but too late now. "Yessir."

"I needed that book yesterday. If she doesn't give it to me in a fortnight, Pierce is going to die. No more time allotted, Greg. My patience is up. Is that understood?"

Greg nodded, and turned to leave. He felt a spell hit his back, and keeled over from the instant pain in his chest. It burned, and he ripped the buttons there trying to see what it was. A small dagger was slowly being etched into his skin.

"A reminder, Greg, that's all," Alvin commented lightly. "You may leave now."

Greg wasted no time scrambling out of the older man's office. He didn't see the old man's smirk or hear the chuckle at his fear.

*

Chris put her hand to the wall to hold herself up while the other clutched her waist where she had a stitch. It was still very early, barely five-thirty. After the first episode of emptying her stomach into the toilet, she knew she wouldn't get much sleep and when the sickness subsided, she changed her clothes and went for a run. She hated everything about the activity, but found that it drowned out the urge to heave and quieted the sounds of Pierce's pain scorching through her brain. It finally let up around five and that was when her steps started to fade.

Panting heavily, she leaned against the wall and tilted her head back. She didn't hear the young man walk up beside her.

"You're up early," Roy Weasley said, making her jerk out of her meditation.

"Didn't get to sleep," she admitted, putting a hand to her forehead.

"That's not good," he said with a small frown. "But I guess that's normal when transferring schools, especially trans-continental."

"Sure," she said platonically, not disagreeing or arguing.

"You'll like Hogwarts, it's a good place," he assured her.

"Strangely, I don't think it'll measure up to FTS," she confided.

"FTS?"

"My old school, Four Trees School."

"Interesting name," he chuckled.

"Better than Hogwarts, I think."

Roy shrugged. "You got me there. What was your school like?"

"Much like a Norm school, I guess. We start in Kindergarten, with the basics, and go elementary, middle, and high school. Norm classes in the mornings, magic in the evenings. Only the high schoolers ever really stay on campus, so it's less crowded."

"Sounds nice. Why'd you leave?"

She smiled.

"I set the principal's desk on fire."

"At a magic school I'd figure that wouldn't be too bad."

"With him sitting at it and telling me that I needed to control my temper?"

Roy seemed to be surprised as he said, "Oh."

Chris laughed. "Yeah. Was packing my bags the next day, out of the country in two."

"Well, I hope you can stand it here for at least one year."

"I'll find something to make it worthwhile."

"Hmm, I'll see you at breakfast, then?"

"All right."

Roy walked away from the sweaty teen girl, and Chris watched him leave. Unbidden, thoughts of Tom popped into her head. She actually missed him. The boy was a nice fuck, she had to admit that.

*

Tom stood at the counter and looked out the window of the shop at the dismally rainy afternoon. Chris's memory seemed to haunt him. He was dying to know how she was doing, and if she was screwing anyone else at the damned school. Just the thought of another man touching her made his blood boil.

At that moment, the man from the train station walked in the door. Tom's fist clenched on his wand.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked.

"Cut the shit, you know who I am," the man growled. "I need you to talk to Chrissy."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because she's going to be in a world of pain if you don't. Her boss needs something from her and if she doesn't hand it over, well, she'll know."

"What does he need?"

"It doesn't concern you."

"Chris's business is my business."

The man sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, I'm just trying to help her, as much as she wouldn't believe that. Would you please tell her? And if you are certain you want to know what's going on, you'll have to ask her."

Tom nodded. "Fine. Now get out."

The conversation was short and awkward, and the man sat there for a few seconds for heading back out into the down pour.

Tom watched him, wondering what in the world the asshole was talking about.