Part VI
"Back again, I see," Dumbledore said amusedly and Arthur gaped at him.
"Where am I?" he asked as he clambered to his feet. He seemed to be in a shadowy place that bore a great likeness to King's Cross station.
"Anywhere you'd like," Dumbledore replied, blue eyes twinkling.
"I'm not really dead, am I? I hope not," Arthur said with a sigh. "I didn't see you last time I died."
"No, you're not dead," Dumbledore agreed. "Not yet, at least. This is but an intermediary between the world of the living and the world of the dead. Whichever… train you take will lead you thus."
"What are you doing here, then?" Arthur asked curiously as Dumbledore started walking; Arthur caught up with the former Headmaster as he sat down on a bench.
"I am waiting," Dumbledore replied enigmatically. "I wait for the close."
"The close," Arthur repeated, choosing to remain standing. "What is that?"
Dumbledore said nothing on that, only smiling brightly. "Let us not talk about that, hm? I would much rather discuss your choice to put yourself in the Death Eaters' torturing hands."
Arthur froze, blinking at Dumbledore. "…Sir?" he asked.
Bonnefois Villa glowed bright and welcoming in the night as the four Nations appeared on the doorstep "Are we all here?" Francis demanded.
"Oui, but Alfred Splinched himself," Madeline whispered. Kiku turned around to see Alfred, who was clutching at his arm.
"What happened?" Kiku asked, walking over to examine Alfred's arm. A chunk of flesh was missing from his right forearm as if someone had scooped it right off of him. He looked away, inwardly retching.
"Vite, back to the house then," Francis replied. "Maman has dittany."
He took out a key from the inside of his robes and unlocked the door. Kiku raised an eyebrow.
"Couldn't you have done Alohomora?" he asked.
"Non, Maman and Papa put charms on this house that only admit people with this key." Francis slipped it back into his robes and pushed the door open. "C'est one of Papa's ideas."
They rushed Alfred to the living room and Francis quickly Summoned some essence of dittany. Kiku grabbed it and started tending to Alfred.
"When will it be safe for us to return?" he asked as he staunched the bleeding with some bandages that Francis had Summoned as well. "Return to London, I mean."
"We'll stay the night here," Francis replied. "Maman and Papa are in Paris, and they seem to have taken Pierre with them. Our house-elf," he added, at the confused looks that Madeline and Kiku gave him.
"So basically you've the house to yourself," Alfred mumbled as Kiku began dabbing at the wound with some cloth soaked in dittany. "Ow! Kiku! That hurt!"
"Sorry," Kiku mumbled. "But it's supposed to sting, you know."
"Where is your little sister?" Madeline suddenly asked. "At Beauxbâtons?"
"No, actually she's in Italy," Francis replied. "With Mabel as well… Mabel's visiting Feliciano. He's apparently her half-brother."
There was a long, stunned silence, punctuated only Alfred's sniffles at the pain of Splinching himself.
Dumbledore put up a hand, still smiling. "I am proud of you, like a teacher would be proud of his student. You have demonstrated a bravery that many people in Slytherin House do not possess. By offering yourself up to the Death Eaters in order to save your friend is selfless indeed. Despite being in Slytherin, you showed tremendous Gryffindor bravery that night. You have learned to blur the House lines."
Arthur smiled. "I hope you're not thinking that the Hat Sorted too soon?"
"Oh, no, of course not. Not for you, that is. For Mr. Braginski, I fear that is the case."
"Well, why did the Sorting Hat place him in Hufflepuff?"
"The Hat told me that Ivan Braginski was very Slytherin from the start, but he also wished for warmth and happiness because of his background." At Arthur's stunned look, Dumbledore chuckled. "Has he never told you? All Dark Lords have had dark stories of their past. Ivan's is no different. He was poor, hungry, and cold – ever since those days, he has retained a love for sunflowers and warmth. The Hat thought that by placing him in Hufflepuff – surrounding him by the kindest and most hardworking people Hogwarts could teach – Braginski might change his ways and we could avoid the Death Eaters gaining another dangerous ally."
"But the Hat was wrong," Arthur breathed.
Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Yes, the Hat underestimated Ivan Braginski."
"Brother, where does the Dark Lord go when he is not here? Has he told you?" Nataliya asked Ivan as they sat facing each other in their private sitting room. Ivan was admiring a sunflower; Nataliya was knitting him yet another scarf.
"Abroad," Ivan said vaguely. "He goes to many places… searching for things. He asked me where some wandmaker lived… Nat, have you ever heard of Gregorovitch?"
"Nyet…" Nataliya trailed off, frowning. "Wait… I think Andon was talking about him once. Said that he got his wand from Gregorovitch."
"So he's a wandmaker?" Ivan asked interestedly. "But the Dark Lord already has Ollivander!"
"Well, I don't think he's particularly happy with Ollivander, you know," Nataliya paused in her knitting to look up at Ivan. Her brother's eyebrows were furrowed in thought. "It makes me think that… he's looking for Gregorovitch for something completely different."
"Gregorovitch…" Ivan sighed after a moment. "Why must the Dark Lord be so mysterious with me?" he asked after a moment. "I am one of his most trusted… most loyal…"
Nataliya shook her head. "He doesn't trust me and he knows we are brother and sister."
"Da… I know that." Ivan trailed off into silence as the fire in the grate not too far away died into glowing green embers.
"Sir… I have a question," Arthur said suddenly, right as the thought came to his mind. "Why are all the Nations attending Hogwarts? Francis told me that his name had been down for Beauxbâtons… and Ivan said he was about to go to Durmstrang…"
Dumbledore sighed. "You will know in time, Arthur. It is not my job to tell you; it is Odoacer of Germania's."
"What?" Arthur asked, frowning slightly. "Wh… what do you mean?"
"I left you his diaries in my will. That answer will be provided there."
Arthur wasn't satisfied with that answer but he nodded nonetheless. "Who's… keeping them for me?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Kiku Honda," he replied simply. Arthur did a sharp intake of breath – his eyes stung with tears.
"He's alright?" he asked. Thinking about Kiku hurt… ever since that night when he had attacked him under the Imperious Curse, thinking the other to be Harry… how he knew that that particular Harry had been Kiku under Polyjuice Potion, he did not know for sure. It was just one of those hunches.
"Yes, but he thinks of you a lot. It's rather obvious, if I must say so myself."
Arthur sighed and looked away. "How can you tell?" he asked
"I have gone through the exact same thing."
Kiku spent the night unable to sleep. With a little sigh, he walked out to the balcony in his bedroom dressed in his nightclothes and a yukata lightly tied around his waist. He looked up at the moon shining in the sky; its reflection shimmered in the Baie des Anges not too far away.
Were they safe when they went back to Britain tomorrow? Would all their protective enchantments have been broken and the Death Eaters waiting for them? He started to worry, pacing the balcony uneasily.
Where was Arthur? Was he all right? He clung onto the hope that Arthur had come back to life after the fall, and maybe he somehow forgot that Kiku had attacked him.
"Can't sleep?" Kiku looked up to see Francis sitting on the railing of his own balcony. He nodded.
"I've just… been worrying. About the others." He wondered if Francis knew how dangerous it was to sit on the railing; they were invented for a reason, after all.
"Of course," Francis sighed. "It's just… so… I mean… they're bound to start rounding up Muggle-borns soon. And then Alfred's life is in danger."
"Same for Im Yong-Soo … and Matthew Williams …" Kiku's voice trailed off. Arthur wouldn't be targeted; his siblings were magical, too. "What about Madeline?" he asked.
"She's half-blood," Francis replied. "She was raised by a couple who took her in after her parents vanished."
"They just… disappeared?" Kiku was intrigued. "That was what happened to me, too."
Francis looked very concerned. "That's… odd. A lot of the others - Ludwig and Gilbert, Antonio, and even Arthur – don't have parents. Or at least they had parents but they died while their children were young. Sometimes I wonder how Alfred and I still have our parents around."
"Arthur is an orphan, too?" Kiku asked, clapping a hand to his mouth. "What about Feliciano?"
"Feliciano and Lovino's parents also died and they were raised by their grand-père for a few years. And then their grand-père disappeared, too. Just like Madeline's parents." Francis shrugged. "I don't know exactly what happened to Arthur's parents but his siblings were all he had."
"Please don't talk about him using the past…" A tear escaped Kiku's lashes. "I don't want him to be dead…"
"You did?" Arthur gaped at the former Headmaster who merely nodded, a single tear appearing in his eye.
"We were young and he was one of my closest friends… I did not know if he liked me back, so I did nothing." Dumbledore sighed. "I pined away for him. Even now, I still wonder if things could have been different between us."
Arthur looked away, suddenly unable to look at the amount of emotion clouding Dumbledore's face.
"This is why I was glad when I heard that Kiku confessed to you. The poor boy didn't deserve to nurse the pangs of a broken heart. I know, because I suffered from it every day."
Arthur looked back at him with a little smile.
Nataliya walked down to the cellar to bring Ollivander and Arthur some food.
"Thank you," the emaciated wandmaker mumbled as she set the platter down in front of him.
"No problem. Where is Arthur?"
Ollivander merely shook his head. "Gone," he said after a moment, gesturing to the corpse of said wizard lying not too far away.
Nataliya crept towards Arthur, turning him over. His eyes were closed and he seemed to have died with an expression of pain on his face. She sighed and set him down facing the ceiling. "He's not dead yet," she said after a moment. "He'll come back."
Ollivander nodded. "I saw him come back once."
The Belarusian girl smiled a little. "Tell me when he comes back," she said quietly, slipping Ollivander something that felt like a Galleon. "This is a fake contact Galleon; I filched it from Malfoy and modified it so that only we can contact each other."
The wandmaker smiled and hid the Galleon. "I will. Thank you."
She left the room like a silvery apparition of hope.
"Are you ready to leave?" Dumbledore asked Arthur.
"As ready as I'll ever be, I think," Arthur said quietly. "Which is not at all." He didn't want to return to the dungeon and to torture. He didn't want to wake up to the feelings of pain and hunger.
But he had to, because there were other things worth living for.
"Good. Unreadiness makes you all the more ready." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled enigmatically as he said that; Arthur merely raised an eyebrow.
White fog began swirling around them. Arthur raised his hand in farewell; Dumbledore did the same.
The old wizard's fingertips were the last Arthur saw of him before his eyes flew open and he was in the dungeon once more.
"Welcome back again," Ollivander said quietly somewhere in the blackness.
"Are you ready to leave?" Francis asked them the following morning after breakfast.
"As ready as we'll ever be," Alfred replied cheerfully, his right arm bandaged up but still functioning.
"Which is not at all," Kiku muttered.
"Well, we might as well go," Francis replied.
They turned on the spot and vanished into darkness.
When the pressure receded, Kiku saw their London flat looking like it did the same time yesterday when they left for the Burrow.
They had barely sat down when there was a loud pop and two Death Eaters appeared in their living room.
"Welcome back," one of them sneered.