Hey guys, I'm trying to start this one early so that I can hopefully get it out before the next year, (lol) this chapter is by far longer than thirteen. Thanks to FSl and Beeves, I do appreciate it!
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I'll tell you something
I am a wolf but
I like to wear sheep's clothing
I am a bonfire
I am a vampire
I'm waiting for my moment
You come on like a drug
I just can't get enough
I'm like an addict coming at you for a little more
And there's so much at stake
I can't afford to waste
I never needed anybody like this before
Garbage "Temptation Waits"
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Surprisingly, Rachel and Dumbledore weren't the only two in the room. Rachel looked ahead, in slight shock as her cousin was in front of Dumbledore, kneeling down on one knee, his head bowed in reverence. Snape was standing beside him, with his right hand on Draco's left shoulder. McGonagall was standing off to the right, more towards Dumbledore however. They all looked over to her when she threw the door open, except Draco who had to crane his head to see over his shoulder.
"Uh," Rachel fumbled slightly, tugging at the bottom of her shirt, seeing the spots of dirt on it, and remembering her latest Death Eater encounter, and thinking about how horrible she must look, so she quickly reached her hands up to smooth her hair and to wipe on the make up under her eye lids, checking her nose for blood and trying futilely to straighten out her wrinkled clothes.
"Ms. Rivers," McGonagall said looking at her concerned before swooping in upon her and patting down the girl's hair and lifting her face to stare at her in the eye. "What happened to you?" she asked staring at her concerned.
Snape sneered as he peered upon the girl, "Ms. Rivers, wouldn't you think to clean yourself up before speaking with the Headmaster, it is disrespectful to appear before him as you currently are," he sniveled.
"Professor," Dumbledore scolded. "I think it best if you all leave, and allow Ms. Rivers time to explain her situation," he said wisely nodding at Draco to stand.
The group left the room and Rachel lowered her head, ashamed to look at any of them as they walked past her and out into the stairwell that led down to the hallway. After Draco, who was the last to leave, shut the door behind himself, Rachel's attention was on Dumbledore, and his was on hers, but she tried to focus her intent on the scuff marks on her shoes.
"Ms. Rivers, I do believe that you barged into my office with some quite important news?" he inquired trying to get her to open up and to hopefully speed along his process of hiding her and Oliver once again.
Rachel simply nodded her head and continued to shuffle her feet back and forth uneasily.
"What is it Ms. Rivers?" he questioned, now becoming more and more concerned.
She sniffled and stepped forward, pulling up on her sleeve and revealing the white skull with a snake pouring from it's mouth, the mark of a Junior Death Eater.
Dumbledore sighed and looked away, walking behind his desk and seating himself in his chair. "I feared that this would happen, and it did occur sooner that I had originally anticipated. It seems however that Bellatrix has gotten her one wish, to dedicate her only daughter to the Dark Lord," he sighed and motioned for her to sit into the chair near her.
She lowered herself with a confused look on her face. "Wait! Dumbledore you had said that Christina was my mother and that-"
"Yes, I knew that Bellatrix was your mother, and that Christina was raped and gave birth to your half-brother, both of whom died shortly after the birth due to complications in the process."
"Why didn't you tell me?" she questioned angrily, wanting to know his motives.
"You see Rachel, I told you that Christina was your mother therefore you could assume that yes, you had pureblood lineage, but knowing that Christina was dead there was a certain mystery about her that you would never know and or understand. To you, she would be a beautiful and kind enigma. You did not want to know how she really acted. You were content with imagining it. This is part of the reason why you are in Gryffindor to this day"
"But I thought that Michelle was my mother when I was being sorted," Rachel interjected.
"Yes, you may have, but believing that your real mother, Christina was a kind and gentle person kept you in the personification of the ideal Gryffindor. Knowing that Bellatrix was your mother, and knowing about her and what she is capable of only could lead you astray. Even from your earliest days, your father had never been your ideal role model. You had always turned to the older women in your life, it was only natural that these women be, for all intents and purposes, good."
Rachel sat there in silence for a moment. She had listened to everything that the Headmaster had to say and she shook her head slightly. "You still could have told me the truth."
"I did tell you the truth," Dumbledore smiled with a twinkle in his eye, "I told you the truth from a particular point of view."
Rachel smiled and nodded her head standing up. "Thank you Dumbledore, for everything."
"Oh dear child, we're not done with you yet. Just because you bare the mark of my enemy does not make you my enemy, and with you heightened Legilimency, and your connection to Voldemort, at this time you would make a perfect spy."
Rachel stammered, unable to consider such a feat, "But-but Dumbledore, I can't be a spy! My body language is all wrong! I would walk in there and he would Avada ... heh heh heh. Kill me before I even set both feet into the room!"
"Yes, yes I know," Dumbledore laughed, nodding his head and standing as well. "You would be an excellent spy at this time, but the job that I need you to accomplish is much more important."
Rachel nodded her head, urging him to continue.
"I need you to protect the secret of the order, and all who belong to it," he said simply.
"So basically you need me to babysit- I mean, protect Oliver Wood," she said taking her trademark stance, leaning back on one hip and crossing her arms underneath her chest.
"Of course Rachel. I will make all of the arrangements tonight and by tomorrow morning you and Oliver will be in a disclosed location that even you two will not know where you are. This is for your protection. An outsider to the order will be your contact, if she agrees, you'll have everything provided for and we will send for the two of you once it is safe again."
"Wait, if they're an outsider are you sure that they can be trusted?"
"Absolutely, I'd place my life in her very capable hands and I know that I would be secure."
Rachel eyed him strangely but nodded her head, acquiescing to his idea, and she soon found herself outside of his office, climbing back down the stairs and heading to the Great Hall to grab some food. All of the time that she had spent and the energy between there that she had used left her famished and she trudged down to grab a bite or two to eat.
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Later that night, a form Apparated to the station at King's Cross and entered a carriage that was awaiting them at Hogsmeade. They rode in it all the way up to Hogwarts, where they departed, staggering up and into the castle. The party was here on specific business and was expected twenty minutes ago when they stumbled exhausted into the Headmaster's office.
"Good evening Lauren." Dumbledore said as Lauren Chang entered his office.
"This better be important, I have had way to long of a day to be here for nothing." Lauren sighed not waiting to be asked to take a seat but falling into the nearest armchair.
"Well it's about Ms. Rivers and Mr. Wood, does that qualify as important?" Dumbledore said preparing to match wit with wit.
'Mr. Wood,' Lauren thought. 'As in Oliver Wood?' "You have my attention." Lauren said sitting up and staring earnestly at Dumbledore.
"Lauren, I need someone who is a believable owner of a cottage in New England..." Dumbledore started.
Lauren quickly interupted, "Wait, wait a minute! Ms. Rivers and Oliver Wood are going to live together? Alone?"
"Yes, what's wrong with that?" Dumbledore asked.
"If you let teenagers alone together, you will always get a bad result. Just like the Ravenclaw controversy." Lauren said glaring at him.
"Lauren, I am well aware of that, but Oliver had no say in that decision." Dumbledore calmly explained.
"He sure was a big part of it ever happening." Lauren bickered.
Dumbeldore said, " Well I'm still going to stand by my decision. Ms. Rivers is very capable of taking care of herself and this is in an act of complete and necessary desperation. I need to get those two out of harm's way."
Lauren rolled her eyes, "Oh and why is that?"
"Because they hold the future of the Order of the Phoenix between the two of them," Dumbledore said simply, knowing that he had her won on that.
Within the next half hour, Dumbledore and Lauren Chang had planned out every detail of the two young adult's hiding place. Dumbledore and Lauren then magically swore each other to secrecy, with the only possible way of breaking the spell being Veritaserum, the truth potion.
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In the meanwhile, Oliver sat up, watching the fire from his make-shift bed on the Gryffindor couch. Rachel had reclaimed her bed in the sixth year girls' dormitories, but she had gone up to bed so late after the incident with BV Reinheart, Dumbledore and a quick piece of pie in the Great Hall that by the time that she had wondered back up to the Gryffindor common room, Oliver had been pretending to be asleep, and she had trudged up to the room. All of the girls however were all ready asleep.
He knew that Rachel would not disturb them with any female fancy and gossip, and he knew that she didn't because the area was lacking the common squeals and giggles of late night slumber parties, a sound that as a Gryffindor boy, he had once come very accustomed to.
Not soon after, as he lay watching the fire crackle before him, he heard footsteps on the stairwell. He closed his eyes, resting his head back against his arm which lay behind his head and he exhaled, snuggling down into the comfy couch and the blanket.
He listened as the person stepped, heavily, tired by the sound of them and the grumbling. They walked down and stood next to him, yet they stopped, seeming to be staring at the fire as well.
Oliver controlled his breath, relaxing almost to the point of sleep.
The person moved again and now they were kneeling beside him, "Hey," a soft whisper called out to him.
Oliver jumped, startled by the voice, and he opened his eyes to see an exhausted and frumpy looking Rachel squatting next to him. "Rachel?" he said groggily, "What are you doing up?" he questioned rolling over to get a better look at her face.
"Is there enough room on that couch for two?" she whispered.
Oliver couldn't help but smile as he lifted the blanket that lay draped over him and allowed her to crawl under it, resting herself atop of him in between the back of the couch. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.
"Uh, uh," she whimpered snuggling up to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her and covered the both of him with the blanket.
They remained like this for some time, both of them exhausted and so near sleep, but neither of them able to obtain it.
After what seemed like ages, with neither of them moving and the only noise that was in the world to those two was the crackling of the fire that snapped them instantly back to the waking world when they stood upon the threshold of unconsciousness.
"Oliver?" Rachel whispered hoarsely.
"Hm?" he replied quietly.
"Are you awake?"
"Mm hm."
Silence fell over them for a few more seconds before Rachel swallowed again and spoke up once more. "Me too."
"Hm," he replied exhaling and relaxing his shoulders back into the couch.
The two of them there on that couch was right. It was the perfect time and place to them. It was serene and peaceful, loving in the ways that they could only show each other behind locked doors, the kind of caring that was in Rachel's bed after they had had sex. Snuggling into each other, sharing a blanket in front of a warm fire in January was the most romantic thing either had done in a long time. The only problem with the situation was that neither were trying nor pretending to be romantic, or make this a romantic moment. It just happened. Like karma said to them, 'Here, I give this time to the two of you because you deserve it because of all the trouble that you have been through. Savor this moment however, for it will not last very long.'
The saddest part of that was: they both knew that this moment was too good to be true. That some malicious force, unknown to them, would try to rip them apart. But they knew that they would not allow it. Or so they both thought.
As dawn approached over the western sky, the younger students could be heard stirring above them. They looked up, hearing the first of the waking Gryffindors and pulled themselves from the couch, groggy, and exhausted, they tossed the blanket over the back of the couch and made a silent escape, hand in hand, to the Headmaster's office.
Upon their arrival, Dumbledore beckoned them to enter into the room, and began to perform a spell. Not Oliver, nor Rachel knew what he was conjuring and they dared not ask lest they break his concentration. The Headmaster soon presented them with a potion of sorts.
"Here," he instructed handing them the vials. "Drink this potion, it has a specific compound to mask your presence and identities."
"Oh!" Rachel exclaimed, "So Lord Voldemort won't be able to track me through my Dark Mark?" she questioned catching onto the reasoning for the potions. He then handed them and odd looking vase.
"Here," he said setting it down on the floor between the two of them and stepping back quickly, "there is your Portkey, it will take you to a new location that neither of you have ever been to, and that the two of you would be safe at," he explained walking around to the back of his desk, gathering papers, binding them with a piece of string and handing
them to Oliver. "And those will be your new identities for the time being," Dumbledore said before looking at the two of them sternly. "You must obey all of the instructions there, if you violate any of them I will not be able to help you in any way," he warned them.
Rachel gulped and turned to look at Oliver. He nodded at her, restoring her confidence. She put on a brave face and turned back to Dumbledore, awaiting his further instruction.
Dumbledore grabbed something small from a container on his desk and seized Rachel's hand, placing the tiny objects into it. When he release her hands she saw that Dumbledore had taken the courtesy to shrink their luggage.
She smiled up at the older man and he nodded his head to the two of them. "If you notice there is an extra bag with the potion contained inside of it. You need to take that potion two times a day for it to remain in effect. Now quickly, hands on the Portkey," he said before stepping away from the two of them as they bent over and each grabbed the Portkey and disappeared before the old man's very eyes.
"Dear Merlin, protect them," he said touching his wand to the tip of his temple and drawing a silver stream from his head, releasing it into a bowl to his left.
Rachel and Oliver collapsed to a heap onto a carpeted floor, both in slight shock. They looked around them observing their surroundings. They seemed to be in a room with white carpet, white walls, a kitchen that contained a counter top, cupboards, a refrigerator and oven with a cook top stove. The door to the front of the house seemed to be beside the kitchen and they pulled themselves up off of the ground. Rachel rose an eye brow and wondered toward the kitchen with Oliver in tow.
Behind the sink, in the living room there was a counter top bar for eating with chairs. Rachel took a seat on one of them and Oliver made his way around the small counter and into the kitchen were he proceeded to open the refrigerator door.
"Nothing," he sighed aggravated as his stomach grumbled, "fuck."
Rachel remained sitting on one of the chairs with a number of envelops laid out before her. Each of them were labeled with a specific area. 'LIVING ROOM' was the first, then, 'KITCHEN', 'FOOD', 'BATHROOM, and lastly 'BEDROOM'. Beside that was a piece of paper, containing their address and beneath it shown two photo i.d.'s, both of which were valid New England driver's licenses.
"I guess we're in New England," she laughed and looked up at Oliver who was currently searching the bare cupboards.
"What's that?" he asked turning to face his girlfriend.
Rachel held up his photo i.d. for him to see and he walked over, snatching it from her hand, reading it for himself, "I can't drive!"
"We don't even have a car to drive," she said as she grabbed one of the envelops.
Oliver looked at her confused as he pulled the parchment that Dumbledore had given him out of his pocket, untying the string allowing a set of keys to fall to the counter top. He picked them up and stare at them confused, before smirking, looking up at Rachel. "Oh darling," he smiled.
"Holy fuck!" Rachel exclaimed as she viewed the contents of one of the envelops.
Oliver, in a panic, rounded the corner, afraid of what she had found, only to see her rapidly counting the green parchment before her. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Nothing! We've just been handed a couple of thousand dollars to decorate and supply ourselves in this house!" she squealed throwing her arms around his neck hugging him.
Oliver smiled, and laughed as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off of the chair. He guessed that a thousand dollars in Muggle money must have been something important but he still could never grasp the idea. "So I'm guessing that that is a lot of money?" he questioned.
Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled up at him, "hell yeah it is. Now, read me those instructions," she commanded curious as to the guidelines of their residency.
Oliver nodded his head and pulled the rolled up parchment out and opened it so that he could fully read them. "Ahem," he cleared his throat, "To Whom It May Concern: Now that you have arrived at your destination you may read the following instructions, but be sure to disgard them as soon as they are read. First you must rid yourselves of your wands and or any other magical devices that link you to this world. For the time being you are Muggles and must act accordingly. Second, by now you have more than likely seen the sum of U.S. Dollars that was left to you. This money is to the purposes listed on the envelops. Consider yourselves on a budget, all spending will be monitored.
You with the aid of you identification cards are United States Citizens, you will remain under these identities with no ties to anyone you may have previously know to help your true identities remain hidden. If you are revealed in any way, there will be no way in which the Ministry of Magic and/or anyone in the Wizarding World may help you. To aid you in keeping your identities a secret and to prevent your location being discovered you must take the potions provided to mask your identities twice a day for them to remain in effect. If you miss taking them and are found out, you are on your own.
Lastly, the area that you are in is not your own, it is a third parties residency that they have graciously volunteered to sacrifice to lend to our cause. Please treat it as your own for you will be responsible for any damages caused to it while you are residing in it.
Because you are hiding somewhere in the United States and as Muggles, you must abide by all of the laws that govern the surrounding area. If you do not, there will be no way of receiving aid from us, International/Inter-worldly Jurisdictions must not be brought into this matter at any time. Please be on your best behavior and be safe."
Oliver rolled his eyes at it, setting the parchment down on the counter, "What a load of bullocks," he said shaking his head.
Rachel rolled her eyes and looked at him understanding. "You know, the only reason that they are doing this is for our own safety and for the complicated matters of protecting the Order," she said putting her hands on her hips and looking up at him.
Oliver shook his head, still finding every bit of it unnecessary. "Well, if you think so," he said reaching to pick up one of the envelops off of the counter top.
Before he could do so, however, Rachel snatched it out of his reach and grabbed the car keys from his hand. "I have the most experience with Muggle money and their way of life, therefore, I will hold the money and do all of the talking while we go shopping!"
A sheer look of utter terror could only pass over Oliver's face.
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Many hours later, the envelops exhausted, their car full of merchandise and a u-haul behind the SUV that had been loaned to Rachel through their mystery benefactor, the couple had plopped down on a white cushioned futon in the living room, resting their feet on an industrial glass coffee table, and Rachel reached up grabbing the remote for the big screen TV that sat in front of them. What could do you? You gave a teenager and a young man a shit load of money to furnish a home together, what did you expect them to buy? Also consider that both are insane sports fanatics.
Oliver had draped an arm over the back of the futon, intent on dropping ti to Rachel's shoulder's soon. He yawned and his stomach growled, reminding them both that they still needed to go food shopping. Rachel rolled her eyes and got up, walking into the kitchen and filling a large glass up with water and reentering the living room, setting the glass of water down in front of Oliver.
He looked at it and then looked over at her. "What's that?"
"Drink it, it'll fill your stomach up and you won't be thinking about eating," she shrugged and surfed the channels, getting herself familiar with the television stations.
"But Rachel! We haven't eaten anything since last night! I'm starved," he moaned.
"Well then you go and get us some food," she suggested.
"I would, but we can't use magic and we don't have anything to cook regardless!" he exclaimed looking down at her.
Rachel turned and looked up at him, "Well that's not my problem, now is it?"
"Rachel!" he moaned,"if you were hungry I would get you something!"
"Not during Sports Center!' she said shushing him and turning up the volume on the TV to see the sports recaps of the week.
Oliver rolled his eyes and stood up, walking into their bedroom. The bed had been set up, but the home gym still lay in it's box, propped against the wall. 'Well, I might as well do something to get my mind off of food,' he thought and proceeded to assemble the gym. It wasn't a typical weight machine as that had been considerably more expensive, this how ever was a resistance machine, and Oliver read over the instructions carefully, figuring that he might as well be in shape for when he re-joined the Quidditch World.
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A hour later, after he Oliver completed setting up the machine and using it for the first time, he exhausted heavily and stopped to caught his breath. He was drenched in sweat and really thought that he was beginning to smell so he hurried into the bathroom, and turned to water on, only to realize that their was no soap and no shampoo. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, he grabbed the towel that was folded over the rack and wrapped it loosely around his hips, heading back out into the living room. "Hey," he called out to the dazed Rachel, who was still being hypnotized by the television.
She looked up to see a soaking wet Oliver dripping on the carpet with a towel she wished was nonexistent. The image sparked lustful thoughts in the young girls mind and she blushed, quickly looking back at the screen. "Yes Oliver?" she gulped.
"There's no shampoo or soap," he grinned, her blush not escaping his vision.
"Oh, right," she said sitting up and reaching for the keys on the table. "I'll go buy some, and food while I'm out, and some ice cream," she mumbled to herself.
"Is it cold in here?" Oliver questioned looking over at the frantic girl.
'Quite the opposite,' she quipped in her mind. "No, why?" she asked grabbing her purse and the envelop for food.
Oliver smirked and looked down at her perky nipples that were budding through her shirt, "oh, no reason," he grinned and nodded to her. "Hurry back," he said huskily.
"What? Why?" Rachel asked in a panicked, confused voice.
"Because," Oliver took the pause to give her a good once over, undressing her with his eyes, "I'm bored."
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A/N: Okay, I really intended on pushing this chapter a lot further than it is, but BV Reinheart suggested that I put this up now, giving you all something to read. Of course this might be BV's alcohol and cigarette induced binge (she's not a drunk, nor does she smoke often, only with me), or it could be the fact that I am in really like complete boredom induced by the guy I can't have. And so Reinheart over here is bitching about what's coming up next and decided that it was a good enough ending so there, fucking deal with it!
Quidditch-star-16
