Chapter Seven – On The Run

Guilty.

Behind the Muggle, someone started clapping.

Guilty.

Another person joined, and then another, and another. Soon the entire side of the court that could not see the Muggle's face was applauding the verdict.

Guilty.

After a surprisingly short time, the applause died down.

There was movement all over the courtroom. The spectators drained from the benches. The chain around the Muggle's ankle clinked off of him and retreated away. With due speed, a guard in the uniform of the Sycorax was approaching Mark. In her dove-gray cloak, Linus' colleague, Amy, was descending the stairs towards the floor. The judges left with the dignity of a row of mitered bishops, except for Eliezar Smith, who looked more displeased. Lyman Heckinger was following Agatha Zabini out the door to request a full transcript of the trial as soon as possible. Within a few minutes the room was almost empty.

With the footsteps of the Sycorax guard ringing in his ears, Mark turned to Linus and asked, "What is Azkaban?"

"The proper Wizard prison," Linus was clenching and unclenching his fists. "The prison for dangerous criminals. A place where common law dictates that Muggles never go."

A growl of a voice said to Mark, "Come along, now, time's up."

"Excuse me, I am talking to my attorney," Mark shrugged off the insidious hand. He turned to Linus. "Appeals? Can I get an appeals, or take this to –"

"You heard the judge, it's final," the guard gripped Mark's arm. "Now come along."

"I'm talking!" Mark snapped.

"Don't you take that tone with me, Muggle!"

"Don't talk to me like that!"

"How dare you –"

The guard's wand was out in a flash – just as quick, L.O. and the other Obliviator had their wands out and pointed at the guard.

He looked between the two of them long enough for L.O. to flick his wand: a silver-white flash rang in the air like a gong and dissipated: the guard's eyes went out of focus.

L.O. and Mark looked first at each other, and then at the sandy-haired, petite Obliviator on the stairs.

"We have to find Calliope." Mark stated.

L.O. looked at him "Yes, I'm not going to let you go to Azkaban – but she's not in England. We'd have to cross the entire Atlantic – get to the Keyport –"

"No, we wouldn't. The entire reason I ran into her was because she was going to England. Believe me, she's in England."

"I would know!"

"Maybe you're wrong!"

"Guys?" They looked up. Amy Tweak was giving them both a half-disapproving, half-exasperated look. "You know you've only got a minute or something before that guy regains awareness. I suggest you hightail it out of here and plan on the road."

"What about T.R.?" L.O. asked. "What about my job?"

"What about me?" Mark exclaimed.

"I'll make your excuses. You guys had really better get going."

"But –"

"Work fast. Look for Calliope. I'll do some research into Presumption and see if this can't be overturned."

"Thank you!" Mark said with relief. He was starting for the door already.

"But I'm – I'm –"

"Linus, do I have to push you out the door?" Amy ran down the steps to the floor of the courtroom and started to bodily shove him towards the door.

"Okay, I'm going, I'm going!"

"Trust me, okay?" Amy asked. "I'll deal with this guard."

"Wait just a minute. Printzen, come here."

Mark, who was already halfway out the door, turned back to L.O., who was quickly unclasping the cloak from around his neck. "What are you –"

"Hey, good idea," Amy commented. L.O. took the cloak off and settled it over Mark's shoulders, clasping it around his neck.

"What are you doing this for?"

"This cloak," L.O. started, but Amy overrode him, "The cloak's imbued with magic to repel attention and notice. You can walk down the street without people noticing you."

"Oh… good. Can we leave now?"

"Yes, we're going already. First, to my place." Linus started for the door so quickly he almost knocked Mark over. Mark followed, then turned when he was at the door.

"Thank you, Amy!" Mark bowed deeply.

L.O. stopped as well. He managed a flustered "Thanks" before he and Mark disappeared from sight.

"The Hog's Head."

"Yes."

"The Hog's Head."

"Yes. Apparently."

"The Hog's…"

"Look, I didn't choose it, all right? And you don't have to come along."

"Dora, I'm not trying to be rude, but you know it does seem the weird place to hold an Auror meeting…"

"Well, it's probably better than the Three Broomsticks. Who knows, maybe the fact that it's a weird place means it'll be less susceptible. Besides, it's a meeting of Aurors, we'll be able to take care of ourselves."

Calliope tossed her scarf over her shoulder. "As you say."

"Mm-hm." Dora held the door of the Hog's Head open for Calliope. The light was shadowy and greasy (courtesy of the few lamps suspended from the ceiling). Dora headed for the rickety staircase leading upstairs.

"I'll be down in about an hour, maybe more," she told Calliope. "Feel free to go wandering."

"All right." Calliope watched Dora go upstairs, then sat at the bar between two patrons and ordered a glass of pumpkin juice mixed with club soda, "On ice." The bartender looked at her strangely, but shrugged his shoulders and started rummaging behind the bar. Calliope took out the much battered and folded napkin that still had the triangle-circle-line on it. The symbol of Grindelwald. She studied it, but could not find any meaning whatsoever in it…

"One Pumpkin Coach, on ice," the bartender set in front of her, placing particular emphasis on the last two words.

"Thank you," Calliope said graciously and sipped at the drink, setting the napkin down at the bar. The pub around her was silent.

"Excuse me, miss," said a light, dreamy voice to her right-hand side, "But is that the sign of the Deathly Hallows you are studying?"

Calliope turned, surprised. The young blonde – couldn't be more than fifteen, maybe – was smiling at her with a rather vague but pleasant expression. She wore large earrings made of a careful string of multicolored buttons. Her very wide, pale blue eyes looked between Calliope to the napkin on the bar.

"The Deathly Hallows? The relics of the Peverell brothers?" Calliope had studied magical objects at Trimontaine University and heard something of the so-called Deathly Hallows. What she had gathered from her studies on those items was that the reports of their power were greatly exaggerated – probably.

"Absolutely." The girl nodded. Calliope glanced behind her at the bar, where no one was talking to anyone they didn't know, and all conversations were in hushed voices.

"I've… Miss, I've studied the Deathly Hallows. I don't think I've ever seen this symbol in connection with them. I've only seen it connection with Grindelwald."

"I know. Lots of people don't know that it has a connection outside of him. But they learn. When I was a first-year, my daddy got me a necklace with that sign on it."

"What?" Calliope tried to keep her voice low.

"It meant a lot to him, so I wore it my first day of class. However, it wasn't received well." She stirred her drink (which, Calliope noticed, was lightly green with a small onion) and went on casually, "Older students kept coming up to me and asking me why I wanted to kill Muggles. Then there was the fifth-year Slytherin who took me aside after lunch and asked me how long I had been a believer and would I be interested in subscribing to his magazine for pure-blood supremacists. After that, Professor McGonagall told me to take the necklace off. So I stopped wearing it. I prefer to make my own jewelry anyway – but I don't let Daddy know that. It is rather important to him."

Calliope stared. "… All right," she said slowly, taking another drink. "But how does this symbol relate to the Deathly Hallows?"

"It's amazing, how illustrations get more and more stylized as time goes on until things that seem meaningless… but are in fact loaded with history and myth." the girl asked with another dreamy smile. "Like the ankh. It was associated with the goddess of life and of death among the Egyptians… the Greeks took it, changed it a little, gave it to their goddess of fertility and love… and now we use the sign to denote the planet Venus in Astronomy class, just as casual shorthand."

Calliope thought. "The symbol of Venus is not identical to the ankh."

"True. But one does derive from the other."

Calliope took a sip. "It's interesting, certainly. I can see your point. But this symbol…"

"It's a very simple symbol. May I?" the girl took the napkin and traced the bisecting line with her finger. "The Elder Wand." The circle, "The Resurrection Stone." Lastly, the triangle, "And the Cloak of Perfect Invisibility."

"Really."

"Yes. Really." The girl looked at it for a while, then said, "I'm Luna Lovegood, by the way." She held out her hand.

Calliope hesitated for an instant, then shook it. "Calliope Ollivander."

"Oh." Luna tilted her head a bit to the side. "You must be related to Mr. Ollivander, the vanished shopkeeper."

Somehow the way she'd said it made it sound as though Uncle Servaas had merely skipped off to the Caribbean without telling anyone. Calliope swallowed and said, "Yes. I'm his grand-niece."

"I was extremely sorry to hear he was captured. Daddy's prepared an editorial on it already – very respectful, I assure you. Mr. Ollivander was ever so kind to me when I bought my wand."

"Where is your father now?" Calliope asked, wondering who would let a girl of this age sit in a place like this.

"He's upstairs conducting an interview… investigating a lead that could expose Rufus Scrimgeour's black-market deals. It's Dad's job to know and tell the world."

"What does your father do for a living?"

"He writes for The Quibbler. He's the editor. Perhaps you've read it?"

"Er… I've spent the last three years in America. I'm not in touch with the British papers right now."

"Oh. That's why you ordered ice in your drink."

"What?" Calliope glanced at her Pumpkin Coach, now half-finished. "Oh. Yes. Americans always put ice in their drinks. I got used to it. But, should your father have left you alone up here?"

"I'm not alone anymore, am I? You're talking to me." Luna took a sip of her drink. "Besides, I like the Hog's Head. It brings back good memories." She smiled again. Then, suddenly, "Would you care to give an interview?"

"What?"

"An interview about your Uncle's disappearance. No one else from the Ollivander family has stepped forward. You would be the first. A Quibbler exclusive. You'd be following in Harry Potter's footsteps."

Calliope started with recognition. "Oh! The Quibbler! I have read it! My brother mailed me a copy when Harry Potter ran that interview back in May." She took a gulp from her drink at once so that Luna might not ask what else she thought of the magazine.

"Wonderful. So you see, we've got a very prestigious tradition, Why not give us an interview?"

Calliope stared at her. "About the disappearance of my great-uncle?"

"Oh, yes. Why do you think he was captured… is the government doing enough to rescue him…"

"No," Calliope said icily, "I do not want to give an interview. If no one else from my family has stepped forward, I will not be the first."

"Okay." Luna sucked her cocktail onion off of its stirrer and then chewed it with relish. The anger which Calliope expected did not come. "I'm looking forward to going back to school."

"I expect you are. What year are you going to be?"

"Fifth year. My last year ended rather calamitously, so I'm looking forward to a continuation of that excitement."

"What House are you?"

"Proud Ravenclaw."

"I thought so," Calliope nodded. "So was I. We were the only house that always looked forward to going back to school."

"The future is 'an unlocked mystery' to us," Luna quoted.

"I think I remember hearing the Sorting Hat sing that."

"I wonder if the Sorting Hat would accept suggestions from students for the song next year…"

Calliope suppressed a smile. "I'm fancy that the Hat is rather proud of its songs, and wouldn't like a student imposing on its territory."

"It should learn to be more flexible, then. Hats are supposed to be flexible."

"It depends on the kind of hat…"

"Do you think the Diadem of Ravenclaw would have been flexible?"

"Er… no. It was a diadem. That's another word for a crown. At its flimsiest it was probably made from wrought silver."

"Silver? You think it was silver, then?"

"Well, I don't know…"

"Daddy's trying to recreate the Diadem, you know."

"… Is he now?"

"Oh yes. He's been gathering materials for some years now. At this point it resembles a turban more than anything else, but the Persian and Arab worlds have also contributed much to magical lore, so I think a turban will serve as well as a diadem. Better, perhaps. It goes with more outfits than a diadem."

Calliope drained the last of her Pumpkin Coach. "I don't wear diadems or turbans very often. I couldn't say."

"Diadems are so formal," Luna went on. "The twinkles add so much formality, you know."

"Jewels do add a sheen of formality to any outfit," Calliope agreed.

They continued to converse for a while, the topic shifting gradually from jewels to birth months and birthdays, to the difference between Hogwarts when Calliope had attended it and now. After their comparison of Christmases at Hogwarts to Christmases at home, their conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence. Calliope took another Pumpkin Coach and Luna requested another Lite Absinthe with Onion.

"So, Miss Lovegood, what's your family life? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No – it's just me and Daddy. My mother died about… my, it must be six years back by now."

"Oh," Calliope said at once. "I'm very sorry." Luna shrugged. Calliope went on, "I lost my own mother a few years ago, too."

"We had nine good years," Luna said quietly. "It was an accident. I still feel sad about it sometimes, but I know she's not gone forever."

Calliope nodded slowly and was aware of herself saying "yes" very slowly. "We knew for a long time that my mother was dying, we just didn't know when," she explained quietly. "It was almost a relief afterwards. Almost. But I was at least out of Hogwarts when it happened…"

"Like I said, we had nine good years. Tell me about your family."

After an hour, Dora came down the stairs after the rest of the Aurors. The stairs creaked with every step. She looked for Calliope at the bar and found her deep in conversation with a young lady with long blonde hair. Dora approached them quietly. "Callie?"

Both Calliope and her new friend turned. Dora recognized Luna Lovegood and nodded to her. Then she turned to Calliope, who said, "I guess the meeting's over?"

"Yeah."

"Hello, Miss Tonks," Luna said politely.

"You know each other?"

"We've met." Dora offered a small smile to Luna. "I think we'd better get going. It'll be late soon." To Luna, "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'm sure. My father will be finishing up with his client soon. His interviews usually don't last longer than this."

"All right – do you want us to stay with you until he arrives?"

"Oh, I can amuse myself very well until then. But if you like, you can stay."

The stairs behind Dora creaked again. She turned to see a man in orange and blue robes descending the stairway. He had thin, white hair that hung disheveled about his face, and he was humming to himself.

"Ah, that's Dad now."

"All right… it was very nice to meet you, Luna." Calliope offered her hand, and Luna shook it.

"I agree. Can we be penfriends?"

Calliope gave a little shrug. "Sure. Why not?"

"I'll write you when I get back to school." Luna smiled brightly.

"Until then – take care."

"I will."

When they left the Hog's Head, Calliope asked Dora in an undertone, "How have you met her?"

"You'd be surprised who I run into in my line of work,"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously – you remember how last May Harry Potter invaded the Ministry of Magic and the Department of Mysteries?"

"Remember? Linus' letter from that week was obscenely long."

"Harry wasn't alone. He had five friends of his, fellow-students."

"I remember that, but I only remember two of them were Weasleys."

"Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley – that's the two – and Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood."

"That girl was at the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes – apparently put up a pretty good fight. Not that I was paying a lot of attention."

"I'm hardly surprised…"

"Bellatrix Lestrange knocked me out while I was dueling her."

Calliope stopped in her tracks. "You dueled Bellatrix Lestrange?" she whispered.

Dora nodded. "You'd be surprised."

"And she let you live?"

"She got distracted, all right? Can we not talk about it out here?"

"Okay… I'm sorry. But I'm surprised."

Dora kept walking in silence. Calliope knotted her scarf around her neck and wondered if she had said too much. But eventually Dora said, "Dumbledore was at the Auror's meeting."

"He was?"

"Yes. He told us all that he had the utmost faith in us, and that the lives of hundreds of innocent schoolchildren depend on us, but that he believed we would fulfill our tasks admirably and honorably."

"How nice."

"I got a feeling that if any one of us betrayed that trust, that we would have to deal with him personally."

"… Oh."

"I think everyone got a little scared of him at that moment. But I wouldn't expect anything less. I would deal with any traitor decisively, you could rely on that."

"I noticed that you stayed behind a little after the others came downstairs."

"I… he wanted to talk to me, and I wanted to talk to him."

"And you did?"

"Yes."

"What about?"

"That I'm not going to tell you. Not now. But, Calliope…" They arrived at their flat. Dora stood in front of the door so that Calliope had to look at her, "I'd like to know: Can you cast a corporeal Patronus?"

Calliope was a bit surprised. "No."

Dora gave a nod and opened the door. "After lunch, you're coming with me on my watch. I'm going to teach you."

"Don't make eye contact, whatever you do, don't make eye contact," Linus steered Mark, who looked obediently at passing feet, through the uncluttered Atrium. It was three o' clock in the afternoon.

Linus stepped into a Floo fireplace, then stopped, and looked at Mark, frowned. "We're taking the Knight Bus," he said.

"Good," Mark winced. "Not that apparition stuff. That's just weird."

At his words, Linus shook his head again. "Best idea. We will Apparate. It's close enough… I can manage a side-along for now…"

Mark knew better than to protest. He only muttered, "It's not even like tessering…" and then Linus changed his mind again. He pointed to the fireplace. "No, we can't be seen on the street. Into the fire, go!"

Mark stepped in, uncertain.

"Gather yourself as compact as you can," Linus was reaching for the button beside the door, "and yell, 'Zenith Apartments.' You can remember that?"

"Sure…"

"And enunciate. I'm going to press the button in three, two, say it!"

Mark shut his eyes tight and yelled for Zenith Apartments. When the flames that enveloped him had cleared away, Linus stepped in after.

When he stepped out, into the cool green lobby of the Zenith, he almost tripped over Mark, who was coughing and dusty on the floor.

"C'mon up, lad, don't make a scene," Linus yanked his arm. "You're lucky the Zenith has such a distinct name… you are okay, right?"

"Why can't we get a magic carpet?" Mark replied sullenly.

"Because they're illegal in Britain and a damn trick to fly right."

"You've flown one?"

"Inherited one from a Moroccan uncle. It's in Scotland, though, so don't get any ideas."

"Where are we anyway?"

"Zenith Apartments," Linus explained, and if he had been less refined, Mark was sure he would have added 'Duh.' "It's where I live."

"Oh."

"Hurry, we don't have much time… lucky the concierge is off-duty… Accio!" He said, pointing his wand towards the desk. A laminated visitor's badge flew towards him. He caught it in his other hand and offered it to Mark. "Here, pin this on, it'll protect you from the security around here."

Mark took the badge. It read "Muggle" in large red letters, much as if, to Mark's mind, it meant "Leper." He followed Linus to the old-fashioned, iron wrought elevator.

"Now listen to me, 'cause I only want to say this once," L.O. took a deep breath. "From now on, neither you nor I – especially not you – should say the name of the Thames Jail or even the Sycorax."

"Why?"

"Because there's a charm on the name that will activate if you speak it. It'll let the security know where you are at once and they'll ambush."

"Even if I'm a Muggle?"

"No matter –" L.O. paused. "I'm pretty sure the spell is geared to the word spoken, not to who speaks it. But the point is, even if there's the slightest chance –"

"Okay, okay, I get it, I won't say a thing." Mark fidgeted with the edge of the cloak. The words Azkaban and Sycorax would not leave his head, and it was making him rather queasy. "So where are you thinking of going?"

"Scotland. Hollywyck is my ancestral home. Its doors will always be open to me, and I can activate spells on it – defense spells."

"Will Calliope be there?"

"If Calliope's anywhere in Britain… I don't know. She might be there, or maybe staying with Dora, but I don't know where she's staying nowadays. As soon as possible we'll find her and have her… But for now, Hollywyck is where we're headed."

The doors opened and Linus strode down the hallway to his room, opening it with a flick of his wand. "There we go." He stood outside and checked to see that no one saw Mark entering, then shut the door after him.

"How are we going to get to Scotland? Broomsticks?"

"No, we're not going to use broomsticks, don't be ridiculous. Please step back." L.O. stepped past Mark and into his bedroom – which was small, but neat. "How did they transport you to the hearing?"

Mark followed him to the room. L.O. levitated a briefcase onto his bed and started sorting various items of clothing into it. "They used cars – magical cars, I think – to take me from the Th—"

"Ssh!" L.O. shot him a warning look.

Mark clamped his mouth shut, then dutifully responded with, "From Point A to Point B." When L.O. relaxed and resumed "packing," though Mark could hardly bring himself to call it that, Mark added defiantly, "I'm not stupid, you know." He thought about confronting L.O. with the fact that he knew who he was, but decided he'd better be cooperative at this point in time.

"I'll just hang around here, then." He stepped back into the living room, and noticed that a table near the bedroom door was absolutely covered in framed photographs. Mark stepped closer to it, trying to study each photograph without touching a single one.

The first photograph that caught his eye was one of Calliope – it looked like it had been taken a couple of years ago. She was standing in front of an ivy-colored gate reading 'Trimontaine University' and waving. Mark blinked. He looked again. All of the photographs were moving, their inhabitants smiling or preening in a miniature world all their own.

He smiled at all of them. "Magic," he said to himself.

The next photo that caught his eye was of an overstuffed chair with three children in it. A tiny baby swathed in pink squirmed in the lap of a black-haired boy of about five. Cradling the boy was a smiling girl in her late teens, black-haired and long-legged. They were all smiling (except for the baby) and full of life. The faded color and the girl's clothes looked like the picture had been taken in the seventies.

The next photograph was of an organized group, all wearing the same kind of cloak that Mark was wearing now. He recognized a younger Linus (minus the goatee) and Amy Tweak. There were a few photographs featuring a large, stone castle in the background; one photo of a large, beautiful Tudor-style house. There were two pictures close to each other in the back: One was a rather somber portrait of the same teenaged girl who was in the same photo as the baby and the five-year-old. Next to it was a crinkled photograph of L.O., in his mid-teens, with his hands on the shoulders of a petite girl with short black hair and gray eyes that matched his. She was pointing delightedly at a badge with the letter 'R' on her chest. Brother and sister were smiling like jack-o-lanterns, luminous. Written on the photograph in black ink were the words, "Mum, Dad, Guess where Callie got Sorted!'

There was a knock at the door. Mark started up. L.O. came out of his room at once, his wand out. "Printzen…" he said in a low voice.

Mark knew what he meant, and in a minute L.O. was in front of the door and Mark was crouched in the bedroom.

"Who is it?" L.O. asked.

"It's me, Hector. Open up."

"Hector?" L.O. repeated.

"Yes. Hector. Your cousin. My wand is beech, with a core of a unicorn hair, and bendy. Linus…?"

"Ten and a half inches, walnut, dragon heartstring." He opened the door. "Hector, you really gave me a fright there."

Hector came in hurriedly. "What was the verdict?"

"Why weren't you at the trial?"

"I couldn't find a record of the wand anywhere. Linus, I looked in the archives of a hundred years back, and – why are you looking at me like that? Seriously, stop it, you're scaring me."

"Hector – Irving – Gibbs – the second," L.O. said, pausing to give each name emphasis, "There are four wands at least that are active today that have not been in any registry of sales. Those wands belong to you, your sister Tess, to me, and to my sister, Calliope. And there was one given to my sister Benedicte, but it's not active anymore."

A light dawned on Hector's face. "Ooohhh…"

"And by the way," Mark opened the bedroom door, "Thanks for telling me that you're Calliope's brother. I really appreciated that show of trust once I worked it out for myself."

Hector jumped. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the -"

"Don't say it!" Mark warned. Hector shut up right away. "The verdict was guilty. I'm judged guilty of Presumption."

"Presumption? Like Presumption and Despair? But those haven't been actual crimes for…"

"Apparently they are." Linus turned to Mark. "How did you work out that Calliope and I are –"

"Brother and sister? Well, your conversation right now helped, but so did the fact that I'm her friend too, so she's told me about her family, including her older brother Linus. And you have the same last initial as she does."

"You were found guilty of Presumption?" Hector asked again.

"Yes. May I remind you, Linus Ollivander, I'm not stupid."

"I had every right to maintain anonymity with you."

"But there hasn't been a verdict of Presumption in over a hundred years…"

"Two hundred. My department specifically vetoes…"

"Look, anonymity is one thing, but when she's your sister, I thought that you could perhaps trust me enough to tell me that, and not keep me in the dark about it!"

"What does it matter to you?"

"Because Calliope is my friend and I don't appreciate having been deceived, even if it's only by omission! I'm supposed to be able to trust you."

"Trust is negotiable with Obliviators."

"What's an Obliviator? I don't even know what that is! You haven't told me anything!"

"All right, fine, yes! I'm Calliope Ollivander's brother. My name is Linus Fortitude Ollivander. I modify the memories of Muggles just like you for a living. My mother was Philomel Ollivander and my father was Modeste Samara. I'm five years older than Calliope is. I had a sister who was twelve years older than me, but she was murdered when I was seven. Her name was Benedicte Clemence Ollivander. Are you happy now?"

There was a very long pause. Mark dropped his gaze to the floor. Hector looked between the two of them and finally asked, "So Presumption is still an actual crime?"

"Printzen has been –"

"You can call me Mark." He said evenly. "You're Calliope's brother, after all."

"… Okay, then, you can call me Linus." Another pause. "And Mark has been sentenced to Azkaban."

"No. No way. That just – they can't do that!" Hector looked from one to the other.

"That's why we're on the run right now. Or getting ready for it," Mark said.

Linus nodded soberly. "A colleague of mine has promised to look into the case for me – see if the court's decision can be overturned."

"If we can get a fair trial next time," Mark growled.

"Hey," Linus warned, "This court was mistaken, not necessarily malicious – except maybe Umbridge."

Mark turned to Linus. "You heard them say –"

"I'd just prefer that this was an aberration to a deliberate infarction of justice. That's all."

"'Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,'" Mark quoted.

"Fortunately, this is England," Hector said kindly.

A pause followed. Mark turned away from Hector and appeared to be overcome by a cough.

"We're going to look for Calliope," Linus cut in. "And we're on our way."

"Well, I'll tell you something, if I may." Hector glanced at Linus as if for approval before going on. "I was not invited to the courtroom today. When I came I was told that I was not authorized even to watch. Me, the expert witness! They did, however, let me leave yesterday with the prime exhibit in my possession…"

Mark's hazel eyes and Linus' gray eyes both widened. "You mean –"

"You have Calliope's wand?" Mark finished delightedly.

"There's an immense fine for that, you know!" Linus admonished.

Hector smiled a bit. "I'm siding more with Mark, I don't think the court is to be trusted."

Linus scowled. Mark went on, "So what have you done with it? Is it with you?"

"Good heavens, no. I took it home, cleaned it, fixed it up…"

'You cleaned it?" Mark exclaimed.

Hector looked affrighted, shrank back a little. "Well, yes."

"You mean you got rid of the blood?"

Hector nodded.

"How will anyone know whose blood that is?"

Both Hector and Linus looked at him askance now. "That's impossible." Linus said.

"No, it's not! Muggles do it all the time! You mean to say you can't identify blood?"

"No," Linus said emphatically.

Mark made a noise like, "Hch! No flying carpets, no DNA testing…"

"Will you forget the flying carpet?"

"Er… excuse me?" Hector insisted weakly.

"Oh. Hello. Go on." Mark said.

Hector nodded to Linus. "In Uncle's stores, I found a linden wand of ten and three-quarter inches, and I am going to send that one back to the court. The real one I'm going to hang on to, unless you want it?"

"No, no," Linus shook his head. "No, the last thing we need is pilfered evidence to convict us further."

"Well, if you find Calliope, give me her address. I don't think the court will treat this case properly, and I heard of a disputed wand in a case where even when the owner was known he never got the wand back for fifteen years!"

"Well, that – I, I guess that's the better course of action," Linus had to admit. "Is that all you had to say?"

"How 'bout you come with us?" Mark offered.

Hector shook his head. "I'd only weigh you down. Besides, I have work to finish up in the shop. Our uncle –" he trailed off.

"By the way, what did ever become of your uncle?"

Mark looked from Hector to Linus. Linus glared at hi, until finally, Hector put in, "We don't know." He stood up. "I told some buddies of mine I'd meet them at the pub to listen to the game on the Wireless – Arrows vs. Wasps, you know – I'd better be off. Good luck to you." He shook Linus' hand. "Cous, you take care. And you –" he took Mark's hand and shook it warmly. "Glad I met you. You seem like a nice fellow and I hope you turn out all right."

Mark smiled. "Thanks. Good luck to you too."

With a last nod to them both, Hector took his broomstick, perched on the sill, and then with a hop, he was gone. Mark watched him soar out and then enchant his appearance so he was little more than a smear on the air.

"Don't get any ideas," Linus warned. "I'm almost done packing."

When he returned to his bedroom, Mark turned to the table of pictures. Quickly and quietly, he took three photographs out of their frame and into his pocket: the picture of Calliope in front of Trimontaine University, the picture of fifteen-year-old Linus and eleven-year-old Calliope, and the photograph of the teen girl with the toddler and the baby on her lap.

Linus yelled from the bedroom, making him jump, "What's DNA anyway?"

"I'll tell you on the way over!"

"Okay," Linus repeated. "Okay, okay, okay."

He must have repeated the word at least a dozen times since they stepped out of his apartment. In the elevator downstairs and through the lobby, that was the only thing he would say: "Okay… okay. Okay."

"Are you… all right?" Mark asked.

"I'm just working out our plan in my head."

"Our plan—?"

"It's going to be fine. I know exactly where we'll go. We have…" he checked his watch, "Less than ten minutes to make it there…"

"Where?"

"King's Cross Station."

"Oh." They stepped outside the lobby. Mark looked around. "Do you have a car?"

"No, I don't have a car, this would take forever by car…"

"How are we…"

"Just take my arm."

"What?"

"Take my arm. Hold tight."

"Er…"

"And be quiet. I need to concentrate."

Uncertain, Mark slipped his arm under Linus'.

"Okay. I'm going to turn counterclockwise in three… two…"

Outside of a side entrance to King's Cross Station, there was a pop and two men appeared out of thin air.

"There," said one of them, a taller man with a black goatee, who looked around at once, straightening his spectacles.

The second man, whose light brown hair was in some disarray, veered off from the other man at once and grabbed the sidewalk railing at once as though dizzy.

"What in holy hell was that?" he asked.

"It was Apparition. Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine, I just – I was expecting a blur of color, a speeding sensation, a tesseract – not that."

"I'm sorry," Linus put a hand on Mark's back, "But that was the fastest way to get here. We wizards are so used to it – I didn't think you'd be so badly affected."

"I'm fine." Mark stood on his own two feet, but he was still a bit unsteady. "I'm fine." He held up a hand against Linus' further ministrations.

"Okay. Now, we've got to hurry and get inside…"

"Just where are we going?"

"Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."

"Nine and what?"

"Nine and Three-Quarters – the Hogwarts Express. It's the largest wizarding train in Britain, and it goes non-stop straight to Hogsmeade, in Scotland. However, it only departs twice a day, and its evening run is starting very soon. We're going to have to –"

"Run?"

"No. Just walk quickly."

Mark followed his lead. He looked behind him and asked, "So, is there a platform 3.14, or Twenty-two over Seven?"

"Don't ask me," Linus said. "I never take the trains." He took long, quick strides and outpaced Mark easily.

"I'm going to guess that this is between Platforms Nine and Ten?" Mark called.

"It'll take us a while to buy tickets – and they've upped security everywhere, that'll cut time short too – there it is, hurry!"

Mark's steps started to slow. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I'm positive! This is the plan we're following."

"I don't know…" Mark looked around furiously for the platform. "Can I not see it?"

"No, you can't. But it's right here." Linus stopped in front of the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. "Take my arm."

"I'm really not sure about this… I really don't want to go further… I think it's a trap!"

The word 'trap' stopped him, but Linus gave it a bit of thought and then said confidently, "It's going to be fine, you're wearing the Stone Cloak. There's no way they could have tracked us here, but we have to go before they have any idea. Come on." The wizard had started walking towards the barrier, but the Muggle was getting more reluctant by the minute.

"I don't…"

"Let's go!" Linus tugged Mark furiously.

The platform was now only ten steps away… nine… they would be in Hollywyck by evening… six… ('Why won't he be more cooperative?' Linus asked himself)… not many now… four… was someone approaching? … Mark finally seemed to be relaxing… but at once Linus knew something was very wrong.

"Mark?" Linus turned. Mark's grip on his arm was loosening, and he was fast blacking out. He fell to the floor. "Ah – Mark! Mark! Pull yourself together!" There was no response.

Linus looked around quickly and pulled out his wand. "Ennervate!" he said under his breath, wand to Mark's temple.

Mark stirred and his eyelids opened slowly. "Ah… vertigo…" he squeezed them shut again.

Linus swore under his breath. He drew his wand up again, looked around, and whispered, "Finite Incantetum!" Mark only flickered out of consciousness again. Linus' wand faltered, but then he pointed it at the clasp of the Stone Cloak. It came undone at once. He pulled the cloak away from Mark's windpipe – and then paused.

"Of course."

A few minutes later, a security guard at King's Cross Station became aware of a commotion between Platform Nine and Platform Ten. It looked like a man had passed out. He ran over at once, the setting sun casting his shadow long over the ground.

"Is there a problem, sir?" He asked automatically of the black-haired man who was stuffing a grey material into his bag.

"My – my friend here just fainted. I'm not sure if I should move him or not – "

"Do you know the cause of the faint, sir?"

"Yes – it's – um – anemia."

"Anemia?"

"Yes. Can we get him out of the way of traffic…?"

"Of course – take his feet." The two men carried Mark to a bench in front of Platform Ten.

Linus took a deep breath as he saw Mark's hand stir. "Thank you very much, sir."

"Not a problem – anything I have to do to help his anemia? Get him some food or something?"

"No, no, I just need to wake him up and give him his medicine – he'll be fine."

"Medicine? We do have a first aid station in the…"

"No, no, that won't be necessary. See, he's waking up already!"

"Is this Platform 9 ¾?" Mark mumbled, trying to sit up dazedly. The guard gave Linus a skeptical look.

"Are you sure, sir, that your friend here will be all right? Didn't hit his head or anything?"

"Yes, I'm sure, thank you for your attention but I can take it from here."

"Because I can call an ambulance if there's been any danger of concussion…"

Linus carefully drew his wand out from his pocket, saying slowly, "He… is going… to be fine."

The guard opened his mouth to protest, but paused. His eyes unfocused on Linus and he stood up a little straighter, slurring "All right then, sir, as you were." He turned on his heel and walked away, back to his original post. Linus lowered his wand.

"Hello? L.O.?"

Linus turned to Mark. "How are you feeling?"

"Um…" Mark gave up trying to sit up. "… Awful… jelly-like… dazed… bad? What happened?"

"You fainted. Right before we managed to get to the platform."

"Oh. Has the train already…"

"Yes."

"Why did I faint?"

Linus frowned and suddenly found he couldn't meet Mark's eyes. "I'm very sorry. I made two unforgivable mistakes. Well, one." When Mark didn't inquire, he went on, "I forgot you were a Muggle."

"Oh. Cool."

Linus snapped his head around. "What do you mean, cool?"

Mark sat up, with more success this time. "Well, I'm glad someone could forget I was a Muggle." He gave a short laugh. "I mean, I've been having trouble with it myself."

"Er…" Linus swallowed. "I mean I forgot what you would be able to do and not do. I forgot that Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is imbued with a powerful Muggle Repellant Charm."

"Muggles faint when we go near it? Wouldn't that be noticeable?"

"No, they don't faint when they go near it… not usually. It wasn't just that. I gave you my cloak – a Stone Cloak is imbued with… well, it's got a lot of spells in it. Spells that are woven or sewn right into the fabric. Spells to repel attention are the most pervasive… but there is a faint Muggle Repellant Charm on that too. I'm… it's not that strong, but you've been wearing it for a while now and in combination with the strong charm on the platform… I mean, I'm amazed you've lasted this long…"

"You wrapped me in a cloak with Muggle Repellant sewn into it?" Mark exclaimed.

"Not so loud…"

"What is wrong with you?"

"I've gotten so used to that cloak I've forgotten what's in it – I was trying to protect you. I'm not used to dealing with Muggles except in a professional basis – and I forgot you were a Muggle. I'm sorry. I'm sorrier than I can tell you."

Mark did not let up his glare. Linus sighed. "Look, things are terribly messed up now, and it's all my fault. I don't have any idea where to go from here, we missed the Hogwarts Express, and not to mention Calliope's going to hex me when she realizes what I did to you. I'm so sorry."

Mark relaxed a bit at that. "Okay… well, everyone makes mistakes. It's okay. But now we have to… hm…" He sat up completely and swung his legs over the side of the bench. "Could we get some coffee, do you think?"

"Um… sure. I think I saw a shop right over there…"

"Let's go there. My head's much clearer now anyway…"

"Can you walk?"

"Yes, I'm much better. So wait a minute… you were going to have us take a magical train?"

"Yes. The largest magical train in Britain."

"A train that belongs to the government that's trying to hunt us down?"

"Ah… um… it belongs to Hogwarts, which is… well…"

"Belongs to the world which we are trying to escape. The world of wizards."

"We're not trying to escape it so much as…"

"I can't believe I didn't realize it before… probably that stupid cloak… I forgive you, by the way, but I'm never touching that cloak again."

"… Understandable."

"It's utterly counter-intuitive to take a magical train if we're escaping the magical police. You're a wizard. Would it ever occur to you to use Muggle trains?"

"Well, no. They're scattered everywhere, they have a million stops, they break down or crash all the time…"

"Exactly." Mark's eyes were bright now. "You're a wizard – they'd expect you to use magic. You never even thought of a train other than the nine and three-quarters one. I bet you they won't either. They'll expect you to use magic to save you and me – because they think I'm stupid, I can't take care of myself at all, and anyway Muggle trains are unreliable. But, that's their mistake. I'm not stupid. Now, we won't talk about this for a bit. Let me do the planning this time, okay?"

"Er, I…"

"What kind of coffee do you want? Or tea? I guess that's more your thing?"

Linus ended up ordering tea; Mark had coffee with cream. They drank in silence, both of them looking all over the station for any cloaked or suspicious figures. When he finished, Mark stood up.

"I have some ideas. Follow me." He went first to the man behind the counter. "Sir, can you tell me where I might find an ATM?"