Chapter 6: The Lost
She pulled on the maroon colored knit sweater and a bright floral patterned chiffon circle skirt over the warm woolen tights covering her bare legs.
"I guess Gryffindorks never lose their pride, do they?" Draco commented when she stepped into the common room.
Raising an eyebrow, Celine retied her hair into a high ponytail. "I think you should look in the mirror before commenting on someone's appearance."
An earnest chuckle came from portrait above the fireplace where Salazar was smiling through his beard. "The lovely lady has a point, my dear boy."
Draco scowled returning his attention back to the book in his lap.
"I didn't know you're interested in alchemy."
"For someone who claims to loathe working with me, you have a lot of opinions on my lifestyle."
"I don't loathe you. I just have a different opinion on what the next student activity should be." Celine crossed the common room towards the portrait hole. "You should stop relying on Parkinson for your information. She'll stop at nothing to have you in front of the altar with her."
She wasn't exactly sure why she said that but the portrait swung close before he had a chance to.
George was already waiting for her at the Hogsmeade station when the Hogwarts train pulled in.
Ron and Harry greeted him before leaving the two of them on their own. Hermione hadn't come down for breakfast and the two guys claimed they hadn't even seen her in the common room the night before. Trying her best not to worry too much about Hermione, Celine hugged George, realizing only too late that his touch would almost certainly be identical to Fred's.
It wasn't.
Where Fred had been cautious, holding her as if she were made of porcelain, George caught her in a tighter embrace crushing the air out of her lungs. He didn't smell like warm chocolate chip cookies or teakwood but rather like fresh pine and rain.
"Have you been waiting long?"
"Hardly." George replied.
She couldn't resist a smile. "Where do you want to go first?"
"We were uh…going to go visit Zonko's first—"
"That's actually what I wanted to show you guys. I'm taking over Zonko's!" George said.
Celine jumped up, surprising even herself as she hugged George again. "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes is taking over?"
"Yeah. We were…we were discussing it for some time. Then you know—" George was cut off by Celine tugging on his wrist. "We should see the space. Are you all moved in? Then we should go for celebratory drinks. Oh, Hermione should be here. I could've gone to the Gryffindor tower, it's not like I didn't know the password. Speaking of…" Celine stopped walking causing George, Harry and Ron to walk right into her. She burst out laughing causing everyone else to laugh.
It felt such a relief to be out of the castle away from the reminders of Fred. Oddly enough, being around George didn't break her like her nightmares had predicted.
Different in every way, if one knew what to look for.
George preferred Firewhiskey in his Butterbeer, wore his watch on his right wrist and hated chocolate chip cookies. He talked less but whenever he did it was with great observation.
They spent the day with George going over inventory in the new store, tearing down Zonko's old blue and red decorations and clearing space in the display window.
"You know I'm beginning to think that he roped us in to do this. Free labor." Ron said whipping his wand a little too vigorously causing the rag he was cleaning the front door with to shoot across the room.
"I heard that ickle Ronniekins and for your work," George appeared on the staircase ahead of some levitating boxers. "…we are going to enjoy a nice lunch at the new restaurant that just opened on High Street."
"Deep Cauldron? I saw a review on the Entrance Hall noticeboard, it's supposed to be real good."
"And are we paying for this 'real good' place? Because it sounds expensive." Ron's face mirrored his doubt.
George laughed. "Yes. I do appreciate what you lot helped me with today and Rascal…seems to be enjoying himself."
Rascal at the moment was enticing himself chasing a wriggling Extendable Ear that George had charmed to dance on its own.
"Well if George is paying." Harry grinned.
Celine returned at the end of the day happy. Warmth enveloped her body, a fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she shouldn't have agreed to that dessert drink…a Fernet hot chocolate?
But it looked so good on the menu and the liqueur hit just the spot after the anxiety-ridden week she had.
The Entrance Hall was empty, the last of the sun rays beaming through the large arched windows. Celine abruptly stopped walking when a shimmering shadow disappeared just out of her left peripheral. Soft metal clanks accompanied the shadow. Her heart rate picked up a little as she followed it, the heels of her boots echoing loudly off the stone walls in the tight space that she vaguely remembered as another path leading to the dungeons.
BB. Bloody Baron. It has to be. Didn't Harry mention something about Helena and the Bloody Baron? What was it though? Why would he sign his name 'Bloody'? Did people back then just go by some form of adjective before their name?
Celine stopped reaching a dead end. She'd never been to this part of the dungeons before. Her head nearly touched the ceiling and a thick smell of dampness hung in the air. The clanking sounds had definitely led her here and the Bloody Baron must've presumably walked through the wall. Celine stared at the stone wall with shadows dancing across the surface created by the flickering flames from the torches. Where the ceiling met the wall, she noticed for the first time a discoloration in the stones. In fact, it looked like something had previously hung on the wall. It looked roughly the size of a large portrait. She turned around hoping to double back and find another corridor when she found herself staring face-to-face with the Baron.
She'd never seen him up close. Darker patches of what could only be blood stained his trousers and the cuffs of his jacket. Under all that grime Celine saw a fancy brocade pattern and thought that it must've been handsome once. Metal chains wrapped around his wrists and legs, swinging even during his stillness.
"Why are you down here?" The Baron spoke first, startling Celine. His voice reminded her of strong winds blowing over rusty pipes.
"I-I…I came t-t-to look for you." Celine fumbled with the neck of her sweater, fingers getting tangled in the material. Her skin prickled under his eyes that were nothing but dark hollows. She couldn't really tell if he was looking at her but she could feel it.
The rest of the baron's face didn't look any better, emaciated with bits of skin peeling in places. Smeared blood covered the right side of his face. "I think…you might recognize this." The silver chain came free from the folds. She removed the little tangled threads clinging to the key.
She hadn't studied the key since it arrived in an envelope two days after Mother's funeral. The envelope had been addressed in Mother's hand. Someone else had to know about the connection between the Ravenclaws and the Van Allens. Mother had to obviously trust that person, otherwise how else would the key end up in Celine's possession?
But who?
The silver seemed brighter in the almost-darkness. An engraved owl's head with sapphire eyes made the key's bow.
"I thought you would've figured that out." Father's words swam in Celine's mind making her wonder how she'd never realize that it wasn't just any symbol carved onto the owl's forehead. It was a family crest like Father said. Her eyes flickered to the worn leather sword sheath hanging off the baron's hip. The same crest?
"How'd yeh get that?" His voice hadn't raise by any means but he might as well have been shouting. Celine flinched.
"It was…given to me."
"By who, lass? Who gave it to yeh?"
"My mother. I think. I don't know…she died before she could really tell me anything." Celine said. "But it has your family crest on it. Why?"
"I gave it to her, didn't I? Right before she ran off." The Baron said.
"Who?"
"Don't act stupid lass. Yeh know exactly who."
Again with that haunting stare, Celine felt he was looking through her.
"No, I don't. Please. My Father…he found letters in our old house that belonged to my Mother. He didn't understand what was written because they were in Latin and he was going to get them translated when the owl was killed and the letters stolen." Celine said. She was determined to settle the question that's been haunting her ever since Mother's death. "I don't think…I don't think she just died…my Mother. I believe…she was murdered."
The statement hung heavy in the air. This time when Celine raised her gaze to look into the Baron's face she found a look of sorrow instead. His lips curved downwards and the peeling skin quivered.
"What was her name? Yer mother?"
Celine's throat tightened. "Helena."
The Baron's mouth opened stretching further than humanly possible, as he emitted an ugly wail. Celine covered her ears. The fine hairs on the back of her neck and arms were on end. In that moment she understood what her own sadness must sound like.
The flaming torches went out.
"Wait! Please!" Celine watched as the Baron disappeared through the wall leaving her in complete darkness. She could feel the cold sweat clinging to her neck.
Why don't I feel alone?
Scrambling for the steps, Celine hissed in pain when her knee connected with the edge of a step. Cursing under her breath and scrabbling for purchase on the walls she thought she saw the shadows above her stir.
"Baron?" She asked immediately regretting the decision. Finding her wand tucked in the waistband of her skirt. "Lumos."
Nothing. There was nothing on the steps above her.
Quidditch practice felt like torture later that evening.
"Well maybe you shouldn't have come to practice drunk." Ginny said. Celine fought the urge to hex her. Harry noticed the way Celine's fingers were poised over her pocket.
"Is there something on your mind?" He asked when Ginny had flown away.
"I'll tell you and everybody later." She muttered sensing Ginny's glare from the opposite end of the field. "When your girlfriend isn't trying to do me in with a Quaffle."
When Harry finished telling the story of Helena Ravenclaw during dinner, things began to fell into place.
"It can't possibly be the same Helena?" Hermione glanced at Celine. Celine shook her head. "Not possible. But that's something I never got to ask Mother. Because all the women…" She trailed away, fork-full of duck in mid-air.
"Celine?" Ron's uncertain voice broke her reverie.
"All the women…" Celine began, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Her chest felt heavy for some unexplainable reason. "-in my family have been given the name 'Helena'. On my mother's side. I just realized that…my grandmother in Scotland…she must've been the one to send me the key. Who else would've known?" Her eyes were ablaze with realization. "But how am I supposed to get to her? I can't write to her if the owls are being intercepted."
"What's suspicious about a granddaughter visiting their grandmother?" Ron asked.
"Nothing. When you aren't a Van Allen." Celine said then recounted the surprise visit from Father during the masquerade ball.
"Well can't you just use the Floo Network to get to your grandmother's?" Harry asked.
"More importantly who's trying to harm your family?" Hermione said.
Celine raised her eyebrows looking up from her half-eaten dinner. "You don't think this is really that dangerous, do you?"
"Well, it's awfully suspicious isn't it? And I never took your Father as someone to jump to conclusions. If he came all the way from the royal court to warn you about the key, I certainly think you may be in danger. Obviously I'm not thrilled at the prospect, stop looking at me like that. You wanted an opinion, I just gave you one."
"And I thought I'd be able to have some peace at Hogwarts since Voldemort died." Celine said.
"According to Professor Hartley a lot of his supporters are still on the run." Ron said. "I'm telling you lot, we're better off in the Ministry now trying to catch them than sitting around on our arses here-"
"Ronald!" Hermione said.
Ron, Celine and Harry winced. They knew better whenever Hermione started to call Ron by his full name.
"You were saying, Celine?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing. Harry's suggestion seems perfectly reasonable. Only if I knew if her fireplace was connected to the Floo Network." Celine said.
"I thought all magical homes are supposed to be connected to the Floo Network?" Harry asked.
"I don't know think so." Ron's face screwed up in a weird way whenever he tried to remember things. Celine glanced at Hermione to exchange an eye roll and found her friend preoccupied with moving the food around on her plate.
"Something else come up?" Celine asked when Harry and Ron started to fill the silence with Ginny's Quidditch strategies for the upcoming match. The least she thought about Ginny right now, the better. She was still stung by the comments the red-head had made during practice.
"Do you remember how I got to classes during our third year?" Hermione asked suddenly.
Celine dabbed a napkin on the skirt she had just spilled some tea on. "Yes, I do. What about it?"
"What if we got one?"
The napkin slackened in her fingers, lowering her voice further she looked Hermione in the eye. "Are you proposing what I think you are?"
"There has to be a way. We could've gone back, there must've been time."
"No there wasn't." Celine snapped. "It was someone's misfired spell. He died…instantaneously."
"O-oh…I didn't mean…" Hermione's cheeks were deepening a peony pink. "I…"
"You were talking about Snape…" Celine's eyes widened. "Weren't you?"
Hermione's fork clattered on her plate as she hooked her book-bag on her shoulder. "I've got to go." She mumbled.
"Wait, Hermione! Dammit…you have rounds tonight!" Celine stood up calling after her. Hermione ignored her. Celine sighed, sitting back down.
"What in Merlin's saggy left nut sack was that about?" Ron asked.
"She's upset with me." Celine said.
"Honestly? Better you than me."
"Thanks Ron." She rolled her eyes.
"Is she going to be okay?" Harry finally asked when Ron resumed eating. Celine glanced back at the doors hoping that she'd see her best friend's familiar curly hair among the students entering the Great Hall. She sighed, taking a sip of her iced tea. "I don't know."