Author's note: Sorry for the delay. Was suffering from writer's block. I've tried to make this chapter as long as I can. And thanks a bundle to all my lovely reviewers. hugs tightly
CHAPTER TWELVE
Her hair was standing upright on the back of her neck as the wild stranger's tenebrous eyes bore into her own. He didn't make any threatening move, nor did he try and regain his wand back. He just stood there expressionless, staring at her pointlessly, as though trying to decipher a code.
Suddenly a voice from behind interrupted them,
"My dear child. Are you all right? I heard your raised voice and it prompted me to come out and look for you," said Mr. Lancelot as he hurried to where they both stood. But once he laid his eyes on William, he looked livid.
"Boy! What are you doing here? Haven't I warned you this house is out of bounds for you and your family!" shouted Mr. Lancelot, surprising Rose, and causing her to flinch.
Rose was worried whether the boy in front of her would react violently, but instead he merely looked up from Rose, whom he had been staring at continuously till then, towards Mr. Lancelot - with the greatest possible dislike.
He snatched the wand off Rose's hands and looked at Mr. Lancelot with a mixture of scorn and hurt and without uttering a single word walked off into the woods behind them. Rose stood looking at the boy. This time not with fear or disgust, but with a strange curiosity that had worked its way into her mind, in the few minutes she had spend with him.
"Miss Weasley. Are you fine? Did he cause you any harm?" asked Mr. Lancelot kindly.
"No sir. He didn't. In fact he has been following us right from the beginning," she said, turning her attention back to the old man once the boy disappeared around the corner.
"Insolent boy. I would not come to expect any thing less from him. As they say my child, the apple does not fall too far from the tree," he said with great disdain.
"Forgive me, Sir. But he said he was your nephew," she said warily.
"A fact I distress over from time to time," he stated disappointedly.
"Let us move into the house my child, lest we should fall victim to those prying Muggles," he said worriedly.
They got back into the house and moved towards the study. Mr. Lancelot asked her whether she would enjoy some tea. She said no, but instead inquired about his nephew a bit further. Mr. Lancelot at first didn't reply. Instead he sat down and after a while, with a pained expression he began speaking.
"I was born into a family of great wizards. My dear father, who worked at length in the field of potions, upheld the intellect and prestige of our family name. I had one other sibling. My father expected us to continue in his footstep. His wish, I would like to think, came true with regards to one of his sons. But with the other…" his words trailed away as he looked distraught.
Rose could only imagine what Mr. Lancelot's brother was like, having seen his seed in person.
"Even as a child, my brother started mixing with the wrong sort of folks. Engaging in wrong doings of all kinds, speaking ribaldries and causing distress to our poor father. Our father was saddled with grief throughout his life time and lamented about my brother till his last breath,"
By this time the old man was in tears. Rose felt sorry for him and was about to say something appeasing, when Mr. Lancelot resumed speaking.
"After my father's death, I hoped my brother would give up his old ways. But I was foolish to think so, as his greed overcame the little goodness he had. His eagerness and curiosity drove him to the Dark side, until he became entirely reprobate," said Mr. Lancelot with fear in his eyes.
"He has been placed under arrest several times by the Ministry for committing misdemeanors and practicing Dark Magic," he finished looking grief stricken.
"And what is he doing now?" asked Rose curiously as she started dreading the possibility of a gruesome truth.
"I do not know my child. He has been maintaining a low profile ever since his last imprisonment. Although it palliates the official's worries, I have to be honest; it creates in me nothing but fear. For he is an extremely powerful wizard. A poisoned dragon left on its own like that could wreak havoc amongst us all," he finished, the fear on his face now clearly palpable.
"What is his name, Sir?" asked Rose cagily.
The old man spoke the name at the same time that the pair of words spoken by the two wizards in the Prophecy room came rushing back into Rose's mind.
"Bernaby Lancelot," he said dolefully.
"Those are lovely curtains,"
"Why thank you, Sir. I am glad you liked them," replied Roslyn while smiling.
Roslyn was showing Scorpius around the house upon his compulsion and he seemed to be showering praises at every opportunity he got.
"What a lovely view," he exclaimed as he looked out into the lake on the edge of the villa.
Roslyn smiled genially and after a while they settled down on the porch in front of the house.
"Roslyn. I have never seen a more beautiful locality in my entire life. Why, I wouldn't be upset if I had to stay here permanently," he said while moving towards the brown haired witch.
"Sir. You are too kind. And do not be so pessimistic, for father will most certainly find a means for your safe return," she replied, warmly.
Scorpius watched as her cheeks glowed every time she smiled and waited for a while before he spoke again. He had to do this right.
"Roslyn. You are quite different from all the girls I know. There is a simplistic beauty in you that I have never seen before in anyone," he said dreamily, trying to charm her with his icy blue eyes.
Roslyn blushed and took a while to respond,
"Sir. You tease me with your kindness. I am sure there are plenty of beautiful girls where you come from. Father says, things get better as time passes by. I am sure beauty has evolved over the ages too. Your friend provides an apt example,"
Scorpius broke into a fit of laughter. He found Roslyn's words so amusing that he had to stand up to subside his laughter. By which time he was standing face to face with an angry looking Rose who had overheard their little conversation.
The look on Rose's furious face was enough to silence Scorpius, who was trying desperately hard to come up with an explanation.
"Think the idea of me being beautiful is humorous, Malfoy?" asked Rose barely restraining her anger.
Roslyn sensed the danger of a fight ensuing and took it upon herself to interfere,
"Not at all Miss Weasley. I am sure that weren't his intentions at all. Isn't it Mr. Malfoy?"
Rose knew Scorpius was in a fix. In order to seem gentlemanly he would have no choice but to admit she was pretty,
"Oh no. I wasn't…uhm…laughing at you. But at another thought that…uhm…crossed my mind," he stammered.
"Well if you are done with your jokes, I would like to talk to you in private," she said irately.
"About what?" asked Scorpius irritated, hating the Weasley for interrupting his time with Roslyn.
"About how Severus Snape discovered shampoo," replied Rose.
Scorpius grimaced at her while Roslyn asked,
"Forgive my ignorance. But who is Severus Snape? And what is a shampoo?" asked Roslyn curiously.
"Severus Snape was a potions master just like your father. He martyred his life to rid the world of an evil wizard," replied Rose proudly since she deeply admired the man Al was named after, although Al usually got his butt kicked for the same.
"Yeah and shampoo was the only thing that could get him to cry for his mommy," added Scorpius on a side note.
"This 'shampoo' must be an evil torturous device, then," said Roslyn looking grave.
"To Snape, I bet it was," replied Scorpius while winking at Rose, who meanwhile threw him a 'I don't have any time to wait' look.
"Roslyn. Will you excuse us for a moment," he said kindly.
"Sure. Please feel free to call me if you need any further assistance," she reassured them and entered her house, leaving Rose and Scorpius alone on the front porch.
"I was wrong. Irwin Lancelot is not the evil guy. It's his brother Bernaby Lancelot. I distinctly remember hearing his name. Mr. Lancelot himself said that his brother is a Dark Wizard. It is him you will have to vanquish."
"Is it okay if I do that after lunch, coz I'm starving,"
"Malfoy I'm serious!"
"So am I. Do you know how much energy one needs to keep his concentration while enunciating those spells?"
"Malfoy…" she started but Scorpius cut her off.
"Weasley. I know you are fixated on this delusional idea of a prophecy. A prophecy whose contents you're not even sure you heard right. First you said it was Irwin Lancelot. Now you say its Bernaby Lancelot. Next thing I know, you'll say its Roslyn,"
"So you're saying you don't trust me?" asked Rose irascibly.
"Any one else and I would have. But knowing you so well, I'm beginning to wonder whether this is one of your ploys to get me into trouble again," he said and walked off, leaving behind a livid Rose .
Rose couldn't believe what she just heard. She swore at the blond a few times and walked off in the opposite direction. She crossed her hands angrily and thought Fine. It's you who will have to deal with the prophecy anyway, not me.
But despite her efforts to alleviate her worries, Mr. Lancelot's words kept playing in her mind like a broken record and she wondered whether this concerned Scorpius alone or if she too would have a part to play in defeating the poisoned dragon.
A young boy, bathed in squalor wandered around leaves and trees absentmindedly, drawing disgusted stares from those passing by. To an onlooker he seemed to be inebriated and searching around for his house. But the young boy was straying on purpose, so as to lose anyone who might be tailing him.
He, along with his father, had been caught twice by the Muggles, escaping with ease during both the burnings. After a while when the captures ceased to amuse them, they merely put a Muggle repelling charm on their abode and confunded anyone who suspected them.
He had grown tired of those maneuvers and at one point, his father lost control and performed an unforgivable on a Muggle who had annoyed him, causing him to be dragged off to Azakaban for a few years. They had been lying low ever since and he was doing his best to keep those irritating Muggles off his face.
He looked around slyly to see if any Muggles had followed him. Once he made sure he was alone, he stepped into a house, although it would be hard for the place to fit into the definition.
The squalid structure was clearly supported by magic and if it hadn't it would have crashed onto the ground, owing to its dilapidated state.
The lack of a woman in the household was apparent from the messy front porch which was bathed in the droppings of various animals. William entered his house warily for he didn't want to wake his father up, should he be sleeping, afraid of the punishment that would be bestowed on him if he did. Slowly, making as little noise as possible, he entered.
The place was draped in darkness, despite the glowing sunlight outside. The stench from the house was enough to drive anyone away from it. Dirty dishes were piled on one side of the small room while a man sat in front of a large bookshelf, reading what loked like a tome.
William approached the man cautiously. Upon hearing footsteps the man, whose face had been masked by the darkness, turned around. His face, lit by the sunlight, was enough reason for anyone to run off in the opposite direction. His face was remarkably similar to his brother's, excepting the essence of innocence and kindness that was tangible on the face of Irwin Lancelot. Bernaby Lancelot was cruel and vicious and all one needed was look at his face to derive so. His eyebrows were dark and bushy and his teeth were yellow and crooked. His scars were revolting and no one would stare at his ugly face for longer than a second.
"Where have you been boy!" shouted the man as he brushed aside his long wide mane that suspended on both his sides.
"Father. I have news," said the boy fearfully.
"What news? I am uninterested in the insipid activities of those mindless Muggles. Off you go and do not disturb me while I read," shouted the man turning his attention back to his book.
"No father. It is not the Muggles. It is something else. Something that might interest you greatly," said the boy with great enthusiasm.
The man turned around suspiciously and looked at his son.
"Well, out with it," he barked.
"There are wizards from the future. Here in our village," he said excitedly.
Bernaby shut his book at once and scoured his son with his bulged out eye,
"What do you mean boy?" he grumbled.
William took about fifteen minutes to describe everything that happened right from when he had seen the two wizards being burned on the stake. He detailed what he had heard his Uncle discuss with them and what had happened prior to how the two of them got there.
By the time he finished, Bernaby was no longer present in the room. By body he was, but by mind he had traveled into his own imagination, thinking of the myriad possibilities this could allude to and one of the possibilities must have interested him for he had a strange twinkle in his eye - one that did not bode well for those around him.
William had seen the glint in his father's eyes too, which is why he waited excitedly to hear his father's interpretation of what actually happened.
"My brother was always the weaker one. Always trying to find an easy way out. Mean while he doesn't realize what those two wizards have done. They have created a portal from where they came from. A portal combining the effective power of both time as well as death. A portal so powerful, if tweaked in the right manner it could provide great magical powers," he spoke, his eyes gleaming grisly.
"My brother has always been slow on the intake. He does not realize that the only way those two can return, is for there to be two more deaths. One for each, balancing the dearth they created from their own time, when the veil swallowed two souls,"
William listened to his father wondering what benefit they could reap from all this.
"But what we have at our disposal is a means for us to leap into the future. Two deaths in this century and the return of two souls in their time. Any two souls. They don't necessarily have to be the ones who landed here. It could be you and me," he said and started laughing like a mad man, his knells echoing the debase walls of the broken home.
William's eyes lit up at the possibility of being able to jump into the future with the prodigious magical abilities incurred from the powerful portal.
"But father. What about the two deaths that would have to be made here?" asked the son curiously.
"Why look around for meat when the sheep lies in our own back yard. The witch and the wizard won't have much to do in the 17th century. Let them serve a purpose by offering as our sacrifice," he said and resumed his laughing, now sounding eerier than ever, causing young William to cringe.
"But…That would be murder would it not?" asked William, slightly frightened.
"My dear Son. If you fear punishment, do remember that we will not be around to face our sentence. We will have transported into the future with expanded magical abilities," he convinced him.
William tried to put on a brave face, despite being both terrified and fascinated by the idea his father had proposed. All of a sudden, quite inexplicably, the face of the strange looking witch he had met earlier, waded into his mind. The witch who, by his father's plans, along with her friend weren't going to last too long in this world.
Author's note: Liked it? Hope you did. Lots more surprises along the way.:D. Reviews would be nice:)