Chapter 3
Crighton Comes
KIARA
Hello! I told you I would be back in this chapter. The Unbreakable Vow thing I didn't know about until later on that year, the Girl Who Saves the World and the thing about Sian and her mother I did not know about until my seventh year, so hang on tight.
Anyway, where was I at this point? Well, I was at my grandmothers' cottage in my room, snoring loudly. I had been lying in bed for the best part of four hours, watching the television, every so often staring out the window at the darkening lawn below, until I had finally fallen asleep, flat on my back with my mouth wide open.
The room was strewn with various possessions and a good smattering of rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores and sweet wrappers littered the floor; a number of spellbooks lay higgledy-piggledy among the tangled robes that lay near my bed, and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light on my desk. The headline of one blared:
KIARA PRIDE-LANDER: THE CHOSEN ONE?
Rumours continue to fly about the mysterious recent disturbance at the Ministry of Magic, during which She Who Must Not Be Named was sighted once more.
"We're not allowed to talk about it, don't ask me anything," said one agitated Obliviator, who refused to give her name as she left the Ministry last night.
Nevertheless, highly placed sources within the Ministry have confirmed that the disturbance centred on the Hall of Prophecy.
Though Ministry spokeswizards have hitherto refused to confirm the existence of such a place, a growing number of the wizarding community believe that the Love Destroyers now serving sentences in Azkaban for trespass and attempted theft were attempting to steal a prophecy. The nature of that prophecy is unknown, although speculation is rife that it concerns Kiara Pride-Lander, the second person ever to have known to survive the Killing Curse, and who is also known to have been at the Ministry on the night in question. Some are going as far as to call Pride-Lander the "Chosen One", believing that the prophecy names her as the only one who will be able to rid us of She Who Must Not Be Named.
The current whereabouts of the prophecy, if it exists, are unknown, although (cont. page 2, column 5)
A second newspaper lay beside the first. This one bore the headline:
SCRIMWAZZ SUCCEEDS SWEETS
Most of the front page was taken up with a large black-and-white picture of a woman with a mane of wild, thick hair and a rather ravaged face. The picture was moving - the woman was waving at the ceiling.
Rowena Scrimwazz, previously Junior Head of the Auror Office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has succeeded Cornelia Sweets as Minister for Magic. The appointment has largely been greeted with enthusiasm by the wizarding community, though some had hoped that Mr Harry Potter, 38, Head of the Auror Office, would have accepted the post, but our new Minister told us that he graciously declined the offer, saying that he is happier where he is and has no wish to run our country, furthermore adding that there are people out there who would run the country much better than he would.
There are also rumours of a rift between the new Minister and Susan Crighton, newly reinstated Headmistress of Dragon Mort Magical Academy, surfaced within hours of Scrimwazz taking office.
Scrimwazz's representatives admitted that she had met with Crighton at once upon taking possession of the top job, but refused to comment on the topics under discussion. Susan Crighton is known to (cont. page 3, column 2)
To the left of this paper sat another, which had been folded so that a story bearing the title MINSTRY GUARANTEES STUDENTS' SAFETY was visible.
Newly appointed Minister for Magic, Rowena Scrimwazz, spoke today of the tough new measures taken by her Ministry to ensure the safety of students returning to Dragon Mort Magical Academy this autumn.
"For obvious reasons, the Ministry will not be going into detail about its stringent new security plans," said the Minister, although an insider confirmed that measures include defensive spells and charms, a complex array of counter-curses and a small task force of Aurors dedicated solely to the protection of Dragon Mort school.
Most seemed reassured by the new Minister's tough stand on student safety. Said Mr Augustus Goldberg, "My granddaughter, Nikita Bore - a good friend of Kiara Pride-Lander's, incidentally, who fought the Love Destroyers alongside her at the Ministry in June and - "
But the rest of this story was obscured by the large birdcage standing on top of it. Inside it was a magnificent snowy owl. His amber eyes surveyed the room imperviously, his head swivelling occasionally to gaze at my snoring self. Once or twice, he clicked his beak impatiently, but I was too deeply asleep to hear him.
Next to Harold's cage was another story with a picture of a man and a woman waving at the ceiling, beneath the headline that read: THE PRIDE-LANDERS: FREE AND INNOCENT.
For years, we believed that Mr and Mrs Simba and Nala Pride-Lander were guilty of fourteen murders. But in the light of recent events, it appears that the Ministry was mistaken.
"We, unfortunately, got the wrong people," said one spokeswizard nervously. "The Pride-Landers have told us that it was not them, but Alice and Alan Abster, whom everyone has believed dead."
The spokeswizard also told us that after they had questioned the Pride-Landers further that they discovered their information was correct, and not long after Simba and Nala were given an official pardon and released. The Minister had this to say:
"We offer our most sincerest apologies to Simba and Nala, and we hope that in time they will forgive us for our mistake. We are also making progress to find the Absters and bring them into justice the moment we find them."
The Pride-Landers had nothing to say to us, but we do know that they will be (cont. page 4, column 7)
We'll get to my parents in a moment, but I should tell you that a large trunk stood at the foot of my bed. Its lid was open: it looked expectant; yet it was almost empty but for a residue of old sweet wrappers, empty ink bottles and broken quills that coated the very bottom. Nearby, on the floor, lay a purple leaflet emblazoned with the words:
Issued on behalf of the Ministry of Magic
PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY
AGAINST DARK FORCES
The wizarding community is currently under threat from an organisation calling itself the Love Destroyers. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family and your home from attack.
1. You are advised not to leave the house alone.
2. Particular care should be taken during the hours of darkness. Wherever possible, arrange to complete journeys before night has fallen.
3. Review the security arrangements around your house, making sure that all family members are aware of emergency measures such as Shield and Disillusionment Charms and, in the case of under-age family members, Side-Along-Apparition.
4. Agree security questions with close friends and family so as to detect Love Destroyers masquerading as others by use of Polyjuice Potion (see page 2).
5. Should you feel that a family member, colleague, friend or neighbour is acting in a strange manner, contact the Magical Law Enforcement Squad at once. They may have been put under the Imperius Curse (see page 4).
6. Should the Death Trail appear over any dwelling place or other building, DO NOT ENTER, but contact the Auror Office immediately.
7. Unconfirmed sightings suggest that the Love Destroyers may now be using Inferi (see page 10). Any sighting of an Inferius, or encounter with same, should be reported to the Ministry IMMEDIATELY.
I grunted in my sleep and my head lolled sideways on my pillow. An alarm clock that sat on my windowsill showed that it was one minute to eleven. In the free hand that lay on my stomach was a piece of parchment covered in thin, slanting writing. I had read this letter so often since its arrival three days ago that, although it had been delivered in a tightly furled scroll, it now lay quite flat.
Dear Kiara,
If it is convenient to you, I shall call at your grandmothers' cottage this coming Friday at eleven p.m. to escort you to Dawson Manor, where you have been invited to spend the remainder of your school holidays, which you grandmothers have strongly agreed with, never fear.
If you are agreeable, I should be glad of your assistance in a matter to which I hope to attend on the way to Dawson Manor. I shall explain this more fully when I see you.
Kindly send your answer by return of this owl. Hoping to see you this Friday.
I am, yours most sincerely,
Susan Crighton
This letter had arrived the day after my parents had left for Dawson Manor. During the two weeks we spent together, my parents got to know me better, and I them: they told me about the nicer times of their school days and some parts of their childhoods, and I let them know about my interests and hobbies, and some of the things that Crighton had left out from my time at Dragon Mort, some of which they weren't too happy about, but what's done is done, as they say. We also went horse riding - well, my father went riding with me, but Mum stayed home with my grandmothers, learning how to cook and helping out with the housework, but not overworking herself because of the baby she was carrying. Anyway, I showed my father all the places I had been to before I had gone to Dragon Mort, told him about all the creatures I had seen and tended to over the years. My father was pleased and proud of my actions. He never told me, but how he looked at me told me everything I needed to know.
I wasn't the only one grateful to have my parents back, oh no, for my grandmothers were just as happy. Indeed, they both took pride in teasing my mother and father in how they acted when they were little, and as much as they asked my grandmothers to stop, I think they secretly liked it - and so did I. My grandmothers even got some photo albums and pictures from the attic that showed my parents as children, which I relished in. Of course I was sad when the day came that my parents had to go to Dawson Manor, but I wasn't too upset for I knew that I would be seeing them again soon - though how soon I had no idea. Which brings us back to the letter.
Though I already knew it by heart, I had stolen glances at this missive every few minutes since seven o'clock that evening, when I had taken up possession on my bed which was beside my window, which showed a good view of the garden. I knew it was pointless to keep rereading Crighton's words, I had sent back my "yes" with the delivery owl, as requested, and all I could do was wait: either Crighton was going to come, or she was not.
Of course, I had shown the letter to my grandmothers and told them that I had sent my consent, seeing as they had already agreed to my staying at Dawson Manor. Grandmother Sarabi told my to pack. But I didn't. I couldn't. It just seemed too good to be true that I was going to be taken to Dawson Manor after a mere two weeks spent in my grandmothers' company. I could not shrug off the feeling that something was going to go wrong - my reply to Crighton's letter might have gone astray; Crighton could be prevented from collecting me; the letter might turn out not to be from Crighton at all, but a trick or joke or trap. I had not been able to face packing and then being let down and having to unpack again. The only gesture I had made to the possibility of a journey was to shut my snowy owl, Harold, safely in his cage.
The minute hand on the alarm clock reached number twelve, and at that precise moment, there was a faint pop outside my window.
I woke as though the pop was an alarm. Sitting up quickly and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I looked out the window. A tall figure in a long, billowing cloak was walking up the garden path.
I jumped up as though I had received an electric shock, got to my feet and started snatching anything and everything within reach from the floor and throwing it into the trunk. Even as I lobbed a set of robes, two spellbooks and a packet of crisps into my trunk, someone knocked on the door.
Downstairs, I heard Grandmother Sarabi call up to me, "Kiara, Professor Crighton's here, darling!"
"Coming, Grandmother," I called back, and with a brass telescope in one hand and a pair of shoes in the other, I rushed to my bedroom door, fumbled with the handle, then I darted downstairs, opened the door to the kitchen and lounge and dashed to the hall, where in the doorway stood a tall, thin woman with waist-length caramel hair that was slowly turning silver and curled inwardly at the ends. Her silver phoenix pendant fixed with tiny emerald jewels was visible where her long black travelling cloak didn't cover it. She didn't see me, as my grandmothers were in front of me, both of them greeting Crighton joyously, and she them.
"Susan, it's so good to see you," said Grandmother Sarabi, smiling warmly.
"Yes, it's been too long since your last visit," said Grandmother Sarafina.
"It has indeed," said Crighton, smiling brightly, her green eyes twinkling. "I take it by the fact that neither of you are not surprised to see me that Kiara forewarned you of my presence?"
"Yes, she did," said Grandmother Sarabi at once. "She came downstairs to tell us not long after she got your letter. Won't you come in?" she added, moving aside so that Crighton could pass.
"Thank you." Crighton stepped smartly over the threshold and closed the front door behind her. She turned round and, seeing as Grandmother Sarabi's move had revealed me at last, it allowed Crighton's eyes to fall on mine for the first time that evening, she saw me clearly and smiled at me with a most satisfied expression.
"Ah, good evening, Kiara. Excellent, excellent."
"Good evening, Professor Crighton," I said. Remembering I was about a foot away from the sitting room, I said, "Please, ma'am, make yourself at home." I gestured to the room behind me. Crighton's smile widened and she went into the lounge, sitting in an armchair by the window. "Would you care for some refreshment, ma'am?" I asked her, once I had followed her in. "Tea? Coffee? Wine?"
"Yes, I think wine would be just fine, thank you, Kiara," said Crighton. "Oak-matured mead if you can find some, for I am rather partial to it ... if you don't mind, that is?"
"Of course not, Susan," answered Grandmother Sarabi. "I believe I have some lying in the kitchen. I'll fetch it for you now."
"Thank you, Sarabi. And bring a glass for Kiara, too; I think she's old enough to try some."
Grandmother Sarabi seemed surprised by Crighton's request, but made no complaint as she scurried into the kitchen. Grandmother Sarafina and I sat down on the three-seater sofa, with myself sat at the end close to Crighton. We heard Grandmother Sarabi looking for the bottle.
"Aren't - aren't we leaving, ma'am?" I asked Crighton to break the silence; I cast Grandmother Sarafina an apologetic look at how it must have sounded, but she just patted my hand and smiled reassuringly at me. I smiled gratefully back before I turned to face Crighton again.
"Yes, indeed we are, but there are a few matters we need to discuss first," said Crighton. "And I would prefer not to do so in the open. We shall trespass upon your grandmothers' hospitality only a little longer - if that's all right with you, Sarabi?" Crighton added, raising her voice a little so that Grandmother Sarabi could hear her.
"Oh, it's fine, Susan, you're no trouble," Sarabi answered. Crighton chuckled, and as she did so, my eyes wandered down to her hands, and I saw that her wand hand was blackened and shrivelled; it looked as though her flesh had been burned away.
"Ma'am - what happened to your - ?"
"Later, Kiara," said Crighton, as Grandmother Sarabi reentered the room, carrying a tray which held four glasses and a dusty bottle of honey-coloured liquid. Grandmother Sarabi set the tray down, poured an equal measure of mead into each glass and handed one to each of us.
"Help yourselves to more if you need to," said Grandmother Sarabi. Turning around, she saw the objects I was holding and shook her head disapprovingly at me, before she sat down next to Grandmother Sarafina on the three-seater.
"Thank you, Sarabi," said Crighton, raising her glass to me. I raised my own to my lips and sipped it. I had never tasted anything like it before, but enjoyed it immensely.
"Well, Kiara," Crighton began, "before I came to your charming abode, I had to speak to your parents first."
"You did?" I asked, curious as to what she had to speak to them about. "Why?"
"Well, the details of Pumbaa's will were discovered a week ago. I have already told your parents the details of it, but I am going to shorten it down for you."
I did not say anything. I was numb with the thought of Pumbaa's will. Grandmother Sarabi fortunately asked for me, "What does the will say, Susan?"
"He has left your family all the gold he had left, Sarabi, which adds a reasonable amount of gold to your account at Fauntrotts," said Crighton. "And you inherit all of Pumbaa's possessions. Our problem is that Pumbaa also left you Warts House."
"You can keep using it as Headquarters," I said, finding my voice again. "I don't care. You can have it, I don't really want it."
Crighton chuckled. "Your mother said the same thing, and although that is generous, we have vacated the building temporarily."
"Why?"
"Well, Warts family tradition declared that the house was handed down the direct line, to the next male with the name of Warts. Pumbaa was the very last of the line s his younger brother, Okoro, predeceased him and both were childless. While his will makes it perfectly plain that he wants your family to have the house, it is nevertheless possible that some spell or enchantment has been set upon the place to ensure that it cannot be owned by anyone other than a pure-blood.
A vivid image of the shrieking, spitting portrait of Pumbaa's mother that hung in the hall of Warts House flashed into my mind. "I bet there has," I said.
"Quite," said Crighton. "And if such an enchantment exists, then the ownership of the house is most likely to pass to the eldest of Pumbaa's living relatives, which would mean his cousin, Katalina Outsider."
Grandmother Sarabi and I spoke at the same time, with tones of mixed shock and outrage once Crighton had finished. Katalina Outsider, Pumbaa's killer, inherit his house?
"No!"
"Surely not, Susan!"
"Well, we prefer that she didn't get it, either," said Crighton calmly. "Fortunately, though, we figured out how you and your family can own it, Kiara."
"How?"
"Kleaner," said Crighton simply. "Your parents gave her an order, which she followed - albeit reluctantly - and your parents sent her to work in the Dragon Mort kitchens, seeing as they didn't want to keep her with them full time. Also, your parents have decided to give Noelani the Hippogriff back to Mina, who was thrilled to see her again. Incidentally, we have decided, in the interests of Noelani's safety, to rechristen her Aureole for the time being, though I doubt the Ministry would ever guess she is the Hippogriff they once sentenced to death. Now, Kiara, is your trunk packed?"
"Erm ..."
"Doubtful that I would turn up?" Crighton suggested shrewdly.
"While we're on the subject, why didn't you pack when I told you to, Kiara?" Grandmother Sarabi asked, clearly disappointed in me.
"It's all right, Sarabi," said Crighton calmly. "It's no less than I expected after how I treated Kiara last year."
"I'll just go and - er - finish off my packing," I said hastily, getting up and heading for the door to the stairs.
It took me a little over ten minutes to track down everything I needed; at last I had managed to extract the baton which held my Invisibility Cloak from under my bed, screwed the top back on my jar of Colour-Change Ink and forced the lid of my trunk shut on my cauldron. Then, heaving my trunk in one hand and holding Harold's cage in the other, I made my way back downstairs.
I was not disappointed to discover that Crighton was still in the sitting room with my grandmothers. None of them were talking; it was by no means an uncomfortable silence, though, for I did not sense any tension, and every now and then someone would raise their glass to their lips. As Crighton saw me, she smiled in satisfaction and turned to face my grandmothers.
"Seeing as your granddaughter is now ready, I have a few last things to say to you," Crighton said to them. "As you are aware, Kiara comes of age in a year's time, and Lady Zira has returned to this country. The wizarding community is (as you are already aware of, Sarabi) in a state of open warfare. Kiara, whom Lady Zira has already attempted to kill on a number of occasions, is in even greater danger now than the day when I gave her to you fifteen years ago, with the hope that you would care for her as though she were your own, despite some difficulties that have arisen over the years."
"I know we haven't been as we could have when it came to looking after Kiara when Mavuto, Frank and Carol have been here, or taken her out for the day, Susan," said Grandmother Sarabi, "and we take full responsibility for that, but we've done the best that we can, have we not? We've never denied Kiara anything, never let her go without food, clothes and a roof over her head, and not once have we neglected her."
"That you have not, Sarabi," said Crighton, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "I must tell you now that the magic I evoked fifteen years ago means that Kiara has powerful protection while she can still call this house home. This magic will cease to operate the moment that Kiara turns seventeen; in other words, the moment she becomes a woman. I ask only this: that you allow Kiara to return, once more, to this house, before her seventeenth birthday, which will ensure that the protection continues until that time."
"Of course," said Grandmother Sarafina at once. "As Sarabi said, we would never deny Kiara anything. Besides, protection or not, she will always be welcome here, and she will always have a room if she needs it."
"Good," Crighton said, nodding curtly. "Right, Kiara, say farewell to your grandmothers. We have a lot of work to do tonight, and I hope to see it done before dawn."
My grandmothers stood up as well and came to me. Grandmother Sarafina was the first to embrace me.
"You be good, now, and we'll see you soon, all right?"
"Yes, Grandmother Sarafina," I said. She kissed my forehead and let me go.
Grandmother Sarabi hugged me next.
"She means soon, as well, Sarafina does," she said.
"What do you mean?" I said, pulling away slightly so I could see her face better. Grandmother Sarabi looked at me with a teasing gleam in her eyes.
"Well, let's just say that you'll be expecting two very important people coming to Dawson Manor for your birthday."
I looked at her, wondering who she was talking about, until it hit me, and when it did a big grin crossed my face. "Really?" I asked her. She nodded, and I hugged Grandmother Sarabi tightly, squealing delightedly into her shoulder. I heard her chuckle into my hair before she drew back.
"I guess I'll see you both at Dawson Manor, then, won't I?" I said. I saw my grandmothers both nod, before Grandmother Sarabi hugged and kissed me one last time, and then let go of me properly. I then picked up Harold's cage and my trunk and followed Crighton out into the hallway.
"Put those down here, Kiara," said Crighton beside the door.
"Why?" I said, doing what she said.
"We do not want to be encumbered by these just now," she explained, pulling out her wand. "I shall send them to Dawson Manor to await us there. However, I would like you to bring your Invisibility Cloak ... just in case."
I extracted my Cloak from my trunk with some difficulty, trying not to show Crighton the mess within. Once I had pulled the baton out, extracted the Cloak from it, placed the baton back in my trunk and stuffed the Cloak into an inside pocket of my jacket. Crighton waved her wand and the trunk, cage and Harold vanished. Crighton then waved her wand again and the front door opened on to cool, misty darkness.
"And now, Kiara, let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress, adventure."