Chapter Thirty-Two : Cat's Eye

Neville Longbottom sits in the library of the Delacour Manor, staring with wide-eyed wonder at the magnificence of the chamber and the wizards around him. Seven others join him at the maple table, and for the first time since that fateful night with his ancestor nearly a month ago, Neville feels safe. He doesn't mind that one of the wizards is the loathed ex-Potions Master and another is the prideful ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts professor; Neville is ecstatic to see the familiar, friendly faces.

"So another piece falls into our outstretched hands," offers Severus Snape, folding his arms over his chest. "You'd think we have horseshoes up our arses with the way our missions went."

Fleur Delacour, who is seated between Sirius Black and Gilderoy Lockhart, creases her feathery eyebrows, her blanched face carved in stone. "You say you-you . . . ate your captors?" she asks Sirius and Remus, tripping over her tongue as she speaks.

Sirius nods excitedly, grinning stupidly. "Tasted like chicken."

Fleur's stomach jumps into her throat, and her complexion fades to a sickly green.

"I believe that isn't the point of this meeting, Fleur," the commander reminds them, balancing a Muggle mechanism called a pencil on his upper lip and leaning back on his chair. "There's still an heir of Ravenclaw out there who needs our . . . well, I'd say rescuing, but he's a Death Eater. I don't reckon he needs much rescuing."

Elizabeth Morgan leans forward, resting her elbows on the tabletop and clasping her hands together in a professional manner. "How would we convince a Death Eater--someone who has everything going for him--that he should help us? I think we may be, as the saying goes, barking up the wrong tree here."

Severus sharply elbows Sirius in the ribs. "You hear that? No barking, mutt."

Sirius balls his fist, draws his arm back, and prepares to spring into action.

"Severus, Sirius, if you can't act civilised, please leave," drones the commander, and the pencil falls from his lips as he speaks, rolling across the floor. He continues after a thick, reluctant silence from Sirius and Severus. "Thank you. Now, according to many sources, my mother included--"

"Naked mother," coughs Sirius, an immature grin appearing on his face. "Mate, the next time you have that dream, how d'you fancy inviting me along for the, uh, ride?"

The commander's mouth drops. "Bloody hell, Sirius! That's my mother!"

"Sir?" Neville interrupts, his voice a squeak a mouse could barely hear. "Sir?"

The black-haired wizard starts, staring at Neville with surprise; this is the first time Neville has spoken since meeting those in the Last Alliance. "The 'sir' isn't necessary, Neville. Now, what's on your mind?"

Neville chews his already bleeding lower lip, dragging his gaze towards the floor. "I-I know who the heir of R-Ravenclaw is . . ." he stammers, fidgeting with the hems of his new, elegant gold and red robes. "The night I was awakened . . . I f-found myself drawn towards Hogwarts, d-drawn to the Quidditch game . . . an-and I saw into his soul, saw the essence of Rowena Ravenclaw."

"Do you know his name, Neville?" urges Charlie Weasley, placing a comforting hand upon Neville's left shoulder. Neville looks into Charlie's beaming face and warm, apple green eyes, and warmth washes over his being.

"I recognised him," starts Neville, dictating his words to the freckle-faced Charlie. "He was Chaser on the Slytherin team--I think his name was Andre Pucky."

"Adrian Pucey," snaps Severus, and Neville slumps in his seat, embarrassed.

The commander nods, remembering very little of Adrian. "He hasn't, by chance, 'faltered' yet, has he?"

Severus shakes his head and sets down the black-tipped quill he uses to record the minutes, massaging the crick from his wrist. "Nothing as of yet. Lupin can owl Avery, tell him to keep an eye on Pucey, see to it that--"

"No one kills him," Charlie interrupts wryly, and all seven pairs of eyes drift to him.

"I believe I was speaking, Weasley," snarls Severus.

The heir of Merlin casts Severus a warning glance. "Let Charlie talk, Snape," he says sternly, turning to the older Weasley brother. "What do you mean, Charlie? Adrian is a Death Eater, so who would want to kill him?"

Charlie rubs the back of his neck and shrugs helplessly. "Well, Percy tells me that Adrian is in love with Marcus Flint's woman. I know Flint, but more importantly, Percy knows Flint. There's no doubt in Percy's mind, or mine, that Adrian would be a dead man walking if news of his affair with Landon reaches Flint."

"It may be reaching Flint sooner than we think," Severus says with a grimace. "According to Percy, young Landon is pregnant, and the baby is Adrian's." A frown crosses his thin, pale lips.

"If this Adrian is going to have an heir, wouldn't that make the child the heir of Ravenclaw and not Adrian?" asks Elizabeth in an innocent voice.

Igor Karkaroff clears his throat loudly. "They would both be the heirs. Being an heir is in the blood, it's not something that can be taken from you. It's not something you have to earn. It's your birthright," he replies, voice hoarse and tired.

Elizabeth slowly nods, only thinking that she understands.

"Snape, you spoke earlier about eavesdropping on Percy and Malfoy. What of news?"

Severus's shoulders slump. "Did anyone here know that Percy killed Voldemort?" he asks dryly.

Charlie sheepishly raises his hand.

The commander closes his eyes, bringing to mind the last instance he saw the third eldest Weasley brother. Percy was kneeling over him, looking much younger than he really was, his index and middle fingers pressed against the side of his neck, searching for a sign of life, any sign of life. "Our hero," he mumbles, shaking his head and the image from his mind. "Anything else?"

Severus searches the files of his mind, drawing forth those on the previous ghosts of Hogwarts, no matter how trivial they may seem. "Lucrece Lestrange exorcised the Fat Friar, and the Bloody Baron has been recently married."

"Really?" Sirius perks up. "To who?"

"Bloody Besse," answers Severus.

Remus snorts. "How fitting."

A small smile cracks along the commander's lips as he remembers back to the four ghosts of Hogwarts, Nearly Headless Nick being his favourite. "Remus, I want you to owl your father as Snape suggested and tell him to attach a Cat's Eye to Adrian Pucey. I prefer him alive. Is there any other business?"

Now it's Neville's turn to raise his hand. "Cat's Eye?"

Sirius gladly fields this one. "A Cat's Eye is an invisible globe that follows one around and records their actions, but, unfortunately, not their words. It's a technique of the elves, my people." Sirius proudly draws himself up, patting himself on the chest for effect. "It will inform Gene immediately if Adrian is in any sort of trouble. You see, it's been prophesied that the heir of Ravenclaw will, somehow, falter."

"How do you know he won't be killed? Maybe that's how he will falter."

"Simple, Neville. If Adrian dies, we're royally screwed," Sirius answers with a grin.

The commander shakes his head, massaging his temples with his thumb and middle finger before running his hand through his black hair. "He's only joshing with you, Neville, don't worry. Adrian won't be killed. The Gods wouldn't let him die, they wouldn't screw us over again."

" 'Course, cause we all know the fates the Gods have already dealt us," Sirius replies sarcastically, resting his right elbow on the table and propping his chin in his palm.

From across the table, Neville shifts in his seat. "Uh . . . would anyone like to tell me why I'm suddenly an Animagus?" Neville squeaks, studying his scarred hands so he doesn't have to make eye contact with the Last Alliance.

Karkaroff yawns before responding. "You've always had that power, but because of that memory charm that was performed on you as a youngen, that power was never wakened till Godric Gryffindor himself released your inner energy. Each of the heirs has a hereditary trait, and yours just happens to be an Animagus form. The heir of Salazar Slytherin is a parseltongue, while the heir of his brother, Balthazar, is also a hereditary Animagus. Unfortunately, I have yet to translate the rest of the text, and we haven't yet discovered the abilities of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Merlin."

Neville wipes his sweating palms on his lap before sitting on his hands. "Mister Black is an Animagus as well, so why doesn't it tear him apart to transform?" asks Neville, tears filling his eyes at the mere memory of the pain of the Change.

Karkaroff presses his lips together, tired and wanting to retire to his bedchambers. Since his journey to the Manor of Nefertari, he hasn't been himself, but he doesn't feel remorse for his actions. Which might be what hurts the most. "Hereditary Animagi deal with Ancient Magick, while an Animagus such as Black uses Word Magick, the weakest form of magick. The third type of magick in the world is Blood."

"All right," begins the commander before Neville can ask any other questions. "We have been permitted an audience before the Ministry of Magic, and it seems that they may have come to their senses. Fleur, Karkaroff, Snape, Remus, Sirius, Charlie, and myself will be attending this meeting--"

There was a small uproar from Elizabeth. "What? I'm a part of this, too! You can't expect me to sit around here and just do nothing!" she shrieks, viciously gesturing with her hands.

The commander raises his hand for silence. "The leading order of the Last Alliance consists of those mentioned, Morgan. Succeeding in your first mission due to dumb luck does not enable you to suddenly ascend the ranks," he replies firmly.

"Charlie-boy just arrived here yesterday!" Elizabeth jabs her finger towards Charlie with each word.

"Mister Weasley," he emphasizes the name, "is the only wizard besides Hagrid who can control dragons. We are going to need his expertise. Now, please take your leave to your bedchambers everyone; tomorrow comes early. Too early for some," he adds, staring pointedly at the sleeping Karkaroff.

"Karkaroff!" Sirius screams, cupping his hands to Karkaroff's ear.

Karkaroff jumps out of his seat to a conscious state.

Remus and Sirius snicker while the others roll their eyes.

"The meeting with the Ministry is at nine o'clock, so be prepared to leave at eight. Everyone except for Karkaroff is dismissed," orders the heir of Merlin, ignoring Sirius's immaturity, although his eyes quirk. Sirius's antics are getting old faster than he would have thought. Those seated around him stand and file towards the door without any other words.

As Sirius passes, he squeezes his commander's shoulder, whispering, "Go easy on him, mate. It's not his fault he's been hitting fire whiskey after fire whiskey after fire whiskey." The alliance leader shrugs Sirius's hand from his shoulder, and stares pointedly towards the door. Sirius, taking the hint, pushes Gilderoy (who would rather stay and look at all the "pretty little books") out with him.

"Igor. May I call you Igor?" the commander asks politely once the wooden doors have glided closed. Karkaroff nods, and the wizard continues. "Igor, do you have an idea about why the Ministry suddenly wants to help us?"

Karkaroff shakes his head.

"You're lying to me."

"How'd you know?" he croaks.

"Cat's Eye, Igor," the black-haired wizard replies gently. "I set one to follow Miss Tahirah Nefertari. I saw what you did, what you forced yourself to do for the greater good of our cause--a cause that you don't even have to be a part of. I never sent you to assassinate her, would have never dreamt it. And do you know why?

"Because it's wrong!" He slams his fist onto the table, his voice rising angrily. "We are not Death Eaters, or have you forgotten that? We do not kill people standing in our way! If you do something this stupid again, I will be forced to turn you into the Ministry, and I don't wish for that to ever happen. Now get out of my sight!" He brusquely waves his arm towards the door.

Karkaroff nods, his jaw stiffening. He shoves past his commander, too angry for words and too embarrassed to deal. No one besides him knew his past relationship with Tahirah. When he joined up with the Last Alliance, he left his past were it belonged.

"Oh, and Igor?"

Karkaroff stops with his hand on the door but doesn't turn around. "What?"

"Thank you."