Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta

Chapter 19.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Harry awoke, painfully uncomfortable, with no idea where he was or what had happened. It was completely dark and the only sounds were maddening plops of dripping water. It was cold, very cold, and he was leaning back against something icy hard, and he feared he had entered the afterlife. He was either soaking wet or completely naked. In the total darkness, he couldn't tell which. There was weight on his feet and his arms were outstretched and manacled to the wall by shackles of some kind. He could wiggle his toes against something that felt like rock, slick and flat. His bum was almost numb and pressing against something rocky and he guessed now he was naked.

‡‡‡‡‡

Hermione sat nervously on the edge of her seat and watched Ron narrowly miss the train. He stood helplessly on the platform as the last doors closed and the train commenced it's southerly departure. It could be headed for Warren Street or further on, toward Oxford Circus. Ron trudged back to the benches where she was sitting with the Times in hand and wearing a worried look. After discussing their options they decided to investigate the Warren Street station and went to look for a spot to disparate from.

The crowd was everywhere and it took them five minutes to find an deserted nook. They joined hands and concentrated on Warren Street Station. They got there but wound up in a cubicle in the Men's loo. One man, relieving himself at the urinal, was more than a little amused to see them both pop out of the cubicle. He grinned broadly as they scurried toward the door and out to the station platform.

A hoard of tired people were making their way home after a long day of work. Like cattle, they herded their way along, mindlessly through the turnstiles and on to the platforms. Being unsure of which train Harry and Penny had used to leave King's Cross, they waited until several had stopped to unload at Warren Street. There was no sign of Harry or his raven haired accomplice anywhere in the ocean of passengers. Giving up on Warren Street, they headed back to the shadows for a convenient place to disparate from.

Using similar methods, they zipped into Charing Cross and scoured the arriving trains and platform with no sight of Harry or Penny. With no knowledge of the real danger at hand they checked several more stations before deciding that Harry was probably fine and abandoned the search. They checked at Grimmauld Place several hours later, but Kreacher assured them had Harry had not been there since morning. Hermione left a note for Harry to ring her as soon as he got in.

When he didn't call by midnight they felt compelled to contact Kingsley. Awakened from peaceful slumber and in no mood for the news Hermione gave him, he was furious.

"Get Ron and Neville to Penthane's flat tonight. Send a couple of uniforms along for good measure. If she's there, bring her cute arse in tonight."

"Yes sir. I'll get the group together," she replied.

"Let me know when you get her in."

"Yes sir – I will – goodnight," she said a little sheepishly.

It was two AM when they finally hauled her in. She had been out but returned to her flat a little after one. Hermione informed Kingsley they were on their way to the Ministry and he was waiting for them when they got there. They dropped her off in the interrogation room while Hermione briefed Kingsley on the story.

"She claims they got separated."

"Separated?! So why didn't she call us?" he demanded.

"There again – she said she was planning to if Harry didn't contact her by morning." Hermione explained.

Kingsley expressed pure pain. "She's lying – she's been lying all along – and I'm tired of her lies."

Opening the doors to the interrogation room, Kingsley waited for Hermione and Ron to enter before taking a seat opposite Penny Penthane. He had some papers in front of him and studied the fine print through several uncomfortable minutes.

"Okay – I've read the report – so what happened?" he demanded and looked coldly at Penthane.

Her eyes showed fear through the icy cool demeanor.

"Don't I have the right to legal representation?" she asked.

"You're not being charged – not yet. Just answer the questions."

Anger flashed in her silvery grey eyes, then faded with a sigh.

"We took the train as instructed from Kings Cross to Oxford Circus," she repeated and took a deep breath. "At Oxford Circus an old woman approached us with a note."

"An old woman – anything you remember other than her age?"

She pursed her lips and paused to consider the question.

"Yeah," she said and nodded. "Matter of fact I do – she had a heavy Cockney accent."

"What did the note say?" Kingsley fired back.

She dipped her head slightly and brushed back raven black hair away from her ear.

"The note said to take the train to Notting Hill Gate."

Kingsley sat there, glaring, stone faced.

"So we did," she added. "When we got there, we looked around for the next clue, but no one approached. We waited for about five minutes and there was a commotion of some kind to our right. Yes, we both looked to our right – and then someone grabbed the package out of my hands before I knew what happened," she said and stopped.

"And then what?"

"I screamed – not very loud – but loud enough I guess. The place was packed and Harry ran down the platform after the guy. I must have waited for two hours," she said and nodded.

"Describe the person that grabbed the package," Kingsley ordered coldly.

"A young man – in his mid-twenties I'd say. He had on jeans and trainers and wore a tan jacket. Very light weight, but perfect to stash the journal."

‡‡‡‡‡

Through the inky darkness, and every so often, a reflection of light would show itself from somewhere down the cavernous tunnel. He knew he was in a tunnel now, because every hour or so a train could be heard, roaring off in the distance. After standing for a long time, his legs would begin to cramp with pain. He would hang by his arms for a while until they could no longer bear the weight and then hope his legs had recovered. Since he awoke he'd not been able to sleep. He was tired and cold, and his feet and backside were almost numb. He tried to muster as much wandless magic as he could, but he was tired and weak and the shackles were much too strong.

‡‡‡‡‡

Kingsley listened to Penny tell her story and shook his head in disbelief. He tapped the table with the stem of his unlit pipe with nervous energy.

"You're not to leave London. Do you understand?"

"Sure, but in a few weeks the band is scheduled to resume tour," she stated, politely.

"You're not to leave London until we confirm your story." he informed her with the stem pointed for emphasis. "Do you understand?"

"Sure, but what if it can't? How long do you plan to keep me here?"

Kingsley shrugged his shoulders. "If Harry doesn't show up – you think we'll just drop all this?"

"What else can you do?" she protested.

"With one Auror dead and another missing – we'll never drop it," he said and got up to leave. "I want you back here tomorrow. You report to Miss Granger. I want to know all about this treatise you were working on."

Hermione gloated and Penny cringed, obviously disturbed by the last.

"You're free to go," Kingsley stated bluntly. "Finlayson will see you out. Ron – Hermione – we'll pick this up in my office"

"Yes sir," they chorused and scurried off.

Tracy Tolley greeted Ron and Hermione in the atrium entryway under the gilded archway.

"It's just terrible about Harry," she said. "I do hope he shows up soon."

"I'm sure he will Tracy," replied Ron with worry written all over his face.

Tracy nodded optimistically and opened the door to Kingsley's office. Kingsley was pacing beside his desk and pulled up a small wooden chair for Ron as Hermione fell into the large leather one.

"If it wasn't against the law, I'd give her a big dose of Veritaserum," Kingsley said pacing about the room.

Neither Ron nor Hermione dared speak.

"But all we can do is follow what few leads we have," he said in a calmer voice.

"Yes sir," they chorused.

"Ron – you get to the train station and look for anything you can find – look for this old woman she mentioned," Kingsley ordered and reached for his pipe lighter. "Now, she may be lying about the stations they went through, but they departed southwest from King's Cross and St. Pancras. We know that. You and Neville fan out from that position."

"Yes sir," Ron replied with military discipline..

"Hermione... If Penthane doesn't show up tomorrow send some Uniforms to her flat," he said and directed with the pipe stem. "Now, I want you to drill her for all the information you can get."

"Yes sir."

"We have a few hours before sunup. Hermione – be back here fresh tomorrow morning. Ron – you and Neville be at the train station when it opens."

‡‡‡‡‡

A day of entertainment had consisted of a football sized spot of light moving along the tunnel wall. Originating from a drainage grate or an open manhole cover, the patch of light moved across the tunnel wall through the course of the day. It was funny how light symbolized hope. As long as there was light there was hope. But now the light was fading.

Just after an hour from the depressing disappearance of daylight, when the dark was growing darker and the cold was growing colder, he heard footsteps. It was definitely footsteps and they were moving in his direction. Traveling alongside the footsteps was an orb of light at shoulder height. The slightly pulsating orb was clearly from the tip of a wand and now squarely in front of Harry's face, blinding him.

Slowly the wand-light moved off slightly to one side and he could see the eerie silhouette of Penny's face. She looked at him blankly at first, then with hints of pity and sorrow.

"Sorry – I'm not dressed for dinner – can you wait?" he quipped.

She shook her head as if unable to speak. Tired and with no longer the desire to look into the pretty face, Harry dropped his head.

"I didn't want this you know – why couldn't you just let me go."

He raised his head a little.

"You knew I couldn't just walk away."

"I suppose I did and I'm sorry about that."

"Well, let me go then."

There was another long pause.

"I wish I could – I really do."

"Then why'd you come back?"

"To say goodbye I guess. And to tell you why."

"That makes me feel much better," he said and dropped his head. "So – what's this all about then?"

"In Paris – you went into my things – didn't you?"

Harry nodded a shallow nod.

"I thought so – never got the room service chocolates that night." And she pointed a finger accusingly. "But anyway – you found part of it, I'm sure."

"Oh yeah - part of what?" he mumbled.

"The treatise of course," she said and canted her head like a cute puppy.

"The treatise of Sir George Ripley? The treatise of the red tincture, the elixir of life, the philosopher's stone?" he managed to say then dropped his head.

"Harry, I'm impressed. There is more to you than just a fast wand. But yes, that's right, and not just a piece of stone but an endless supply built from a simple formula of things you could pick up at the chemists." She beamed and raised her palms.

"But why Penny? Why risk your life for this? You had beauty, money, and a wonderful life," he managed through a raspy thick voice.

"For sure Harry. But those things fade with time. Now I don't have to worry about money and beauty anymore. I have an endless supply of that now."

"So, the part about your father, it was all a lie?"

"On no. It wasn't a lie at all. I never lied Harry. I just never told you the truth. There is a difference."

"Super... I'd hate to die thinking you lied to me."

"Well – you won't have to," she said without cracking a smile, her eyes shining like quicksilver. "My father's things gave me the clues I needed to get started, but I didn't have the complete treatise."

"The complete treatise – what's that?"

"The story starts a long time ago. You sure you want to hear it?"

"I've got nothing but time," he said and tried to laugh but only coughed.

"Many years ago in Ripley's time, he wanted to give the Red Tincture, or the Philosopher's Stone or whatever you want to call it to the Wizards of Malta. But he couldn't make it simple. No alchemist ever could. So you know what he did?"

Harry shook his head.

"He gave each wizard from seven countries a number. He told them to devise a puzzle from their country, and the answer to the puzzle was to match the number he gave them. Do you still follow me?"

Harry nodded.

"The treatise substituted the numerical puzzles for missing pieces – like the measures of an ingredient and numbers for common elements. The puzzles were from seven lands or Langues provided by the members from that country. It was thought in those days that no one person could travel in one lifetime to all those places and solve the puzzles. Over the last year or so, I've finally been able to visit all those places, and you helped on the last three."

"Well... I'm impressed, but how did you get the treatise in the first place" he asked, fully awake now.

"It was last summer, you see," she reflected while looking heavenward. "I'd visited the Grandmasters Palace in Malta. The band was in Italy and I was took a weekend off. It was at the palace I ran into Lasaurus. He's a curator there for several months of the year."

"Oh... I see now - why he's pissed, and why he's the one to blame."

"Yes indeed. It was Lasaurus that I deceived. He was quite fascinated by me," she went on and curled the corner of her mouth into a smile. "But he didn't really know me," she added and then abruptly stopped.

"Didn't know you?"

She paused to think.

"No, and I asked you once Harry – in Amsterdam. 'What do you see when you look at me?' And you said?"

"A Muggle Rock star."

"Exactly right! That's what they all see. But that's not all there is, is it? He didn't know I was a witch. And that was his blunder. Taking the treatise out from under his nose was child's play."

Harry laughed through a crusty throat.

"So what's so funny?" she demanded.

"Your ruse – you're very proud of yourself?"

She glared back coldly.

"And they're going to kill you for it. This thing you're so proud of."

She shook her head slowly, animated and with clinched lips.

"No they're not Harry."

"Oh no."

"No. I've worked all that out – with Lasaurus," she said, matter of factly.

"You're lying."

"Oh no. I arranged a meeting first you see – before your prisoner finally talked. I arranged a meeting with Lasaurus."

"Kreacher told me you left the house."

"I noticed the little bastard watching me. So I finally just left. The threats from Lasaurus were valid only until I broke the code and solved the formula Harry," she boasted with a raised index finger.

"Oh yeah – how so?"

"I informed him that several unencrypted copies of the formula are hidden inside obscure library books about the country. And if he lays a single finger on me, the location of those copies will be made available to the public. Even in the case of my demise. The instructions are quite plain in my Last Will and Testament."

"The Ministry will never let you get by with this."

"Humph, maybe you're right," she said and smirked. "They are quite pissed about their favorite Auror gone missing. I can tell you that."

"Well, that's nice to know."

"They'll give up on you Harry. Sooner or later, they'll have to give up. They'll have to get along with the business of their daily little lives. But maybe they'll create a bust in your honor or a painting or something."

"Only a couple more things," he replied, sensing she was about to leave.

"What's that Harry?"

"Did I mean anything to you at all?"

"Oh yes Harry, you did. I was quite fond of you really. But I didn't love you," she confessed and shook her head sorrowfully. "You see, that's the problem. I never do fall in love. I don't know if I can really," she added with a shrug. "I am truly sorry Harry. I could have never avoided Lasaurus without your help, and in the end, I considered your offer – I really did. You're pretty good you know," she reveled and glanced down with wicked smile. "But I couldn't turn down an endless life of endless gifts."

"Okay, but why naked – why strip me naked?"

She grinned. "Oh I don't know. Seemed more romantic really. And you won't suffer as long."

"Oh, that's sweet of you. And another thing Penny?"

"What's that darling?"

"Kingsley – I know Kingsley. He's as righteous and as law abiding as anyone I know..."

"Then there shouldn't be a problem – should it?"

"But... if he can't prove in court you're responsible for the deaths of two Aurors, he'll kill you himself."

She thought about this for a moment or two and then stepped up to Harry and kissed him on the forehead.

"Look, I know you're pissed. And I'd like to help. Is there anything I can do – other than letting you go."

"No. I'm good, " he said and dropped his head.

"Goodbye sweetheart."

‡‡‡‡‡

"It's been days now Ron," said Hermione and wiped away a tear.

Ron nodded, then shook his head slowly.

"If we only knew he was still alive," she pleaded.

"Well – we haven't got his wand back, so until we know – he is still alive," Ron replied, resolutely.

"Of course – until we know," she repeated, her eyes swelling full now.

"So what did she say the last time, Penthane," he asked.

"The same. The same shite as before. I know she's lying or covering up, but I can't get any further with her."

Ron nodded. "I've been through every station on that route. If we only knew the real route they took. I don't believe the snatch and run story."

Hermione paused in thought with furrowed brows.

"No – of course not. It was a colorful little addition to cover up the truth," she added, epiphanously. "They never got to Notting Hill Gate."

"You think not?"

"No Ron – I don't. I think it was just a ruse – a story created to make us fan out in our search at the wrong place."

"Uhmmm... Maybe. Then we're looking past where we should be."

"Yeah, I think so. We need to consider stations before Knotting Hill," she added. "Maybe Oxford Circus."

Ron shook his head and clinched his lips.

"I've looked that station over – I don't think we'll find anything new."

"Then we'll fan out from there. What other stations can we hit from there?" she asked.

"Well – there's Piccadilly Circus, and Charing Cross on the Bakerloo line," he replied and looked heavenward. "Then you have Tottenham Court and Bond Street if they changed to Central lines," he said and smiled.

"Charing Cross. There was something in the news about Charing Cross. A few years ago," she added and scratched her nose.

"Didn't some of the platforms close?"

"Yeah, I think so. One of the lines changed routes I think," she said and closed her eyes to search her mind.

"I think you're right. They moved one of the lines – Jubilee I think."

"Brilliant! That's it Ron. They re-routed the old Jubilee line."

"For sure – but what does that tell us?"

"Couldn't say. But we need to check out the disused platforms. There's a lot of empty space down there. Enough for a surreptitious meeting I'd say."

"Yeah. Hey, maybe you're right."

‡‡‡‡‡

It wasn't just the brutal conditions that were robbing Harry of his desire to live. It was the betrayal that was sucking the life out of him now. It had been days since Penny's visit and he sensed the end was near. Playing 'what if' scenarios in his mind just made the suffering harder to handle and he tried his best to avoid them. Many days since water or nourishment, his mind was playing tricks with him. There were visions and strong ones. He thought now that he would surely die while in a vision.

Barely sleeping, he awoke one night to such a vision. There was a light in the tunnel, but not a simple orb of wandlight. Much bigger than wandlight and coming down the tunnel was a shimmering and silvery form. It was very difficult for his eyes to adjust to the brightness and he squinted to make out the vision.

The scene reminded him of the night in the abbey when the silvery plume of light erupted from the watch. Finally he could make out the figure of a woman standing front of him but the light was so bright to his eyes he couldn't make her out. The taciturn figure stood there while Harry squinted and strained to see.

Her dress was that of the Phainomerides and he thought of the timekeepers of the Twelve Gates and the maiden of Virgo. Yes, it had to be her, the beautiful maiden of Virgo. She took another step forward and the garment broke open all along one side to expose her figure and silvery flesh. Yes, it had to be the beautiful timekeeper. But why her? Why now?

"Harry. Are you there? Can you hear me Harry?"

But the voice was different, familiar – it was not the quavering voice of the timekeeper. Through his tired and cloudy mind, he tried to place the voice. But it couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

"Harry?" asked the shimmering silvery figure again.

He squinted as tight as possible to make out the face.

"Sandy – is that you?"

"Yes. Yes Harry it's me."

Then it had happened. Some time in the night, he must have passed away. He blinked his eyes a few more times, then held them wide open to adjust to the blinding light. He squinted again to see the image better and for sure, it was Sandy's beautiful face.

"Sandy – Sandy am I dead?"

She looked surprised by the question.

"Well no Harry, you're not," she replied in a surreal voice that quavered along with her image.

"Then how are you..."

"How am I here? Do I look real to you Harry?"

"Not really. You look like the maiden of Virgo."

"I'm a specter of time now – a vision of my former self."

"Then you're still..."

"Somewhere between, you might say."

Harry shook his head.

"I loved you Sandy. I always wanted you to know that."

"And I you Harry."

Unable to control his feeling, his eyes swelled with tears and he wept uncontrollably.

"Why do you weep Harry?"

"I don't know... Why did you go alone Sandy. Together we might have won. Then we could have been together," he pleaded.

"And you might have died in my stead. I'd been through that once. Maybe I was thinking of myself, but I couldn't go through it again."

"I've been a fool Sandy. Now I'm dying."

"You weren't a fool Harry. You loved and tried to protect. That's what you do because that's what you are."

He paused and tried to evaluate her comment through a cloudy mind.

"A lot of good that will do me now," he said with consignment. "Why are you here Sandy?"

"You're giving up Harry. Don't give up. If you ever loved me then don't give up. You must find a way to get through this."

"I don't know how – I can't."

"There is a pile of clothes and your wands in that corner. You must get to them."

"I can't. I can't break free. I've tried."

"It's not a matter of breaking free – it was always force with you. Try moving to one side and take the pressure off one arm. The swelling should go down and you've lost much weight. The hand should come free. When it does, use the free hand and saliva to free the other."

"How do you know this Sandy?"

"I told you – I am a specter of time – and this thing, it has already happened."

"You're a timekeeper then? Is that it?"

"Yes. And you made that possible when you attacked the old keeper of Leo. It was your love and desire to be with me that made this possible."

"You're in the watch?"

"No. The watch is only a portal. But you can always visit – come sit a spell if you like."

"I will. I'll use the watch."

"Remember what I told you. Now get yourself free – and live. I must go Harry. Get yourself free."

"Goodbye Sandy," he muttered with a crusty tongue and weak and wavering voice.

With that, she turned and walked in the direction she came. He watched every move until the beautiful and shimmering form floated away.

‡‡‡‡‡

Feeling genuinely hopeful for the first time in days, Ron and Hermione left at once for Charing Cross station. Knowing there was no time to waste they apparated straight away to a dark recess of the station. Almost running, they made their way to the platform Harry would have used if he had arrived from Oxford Circus. They looked around for an old map or anything that might lead them to the disused platform. Frantically digging through a wooden rack of maps and information pamphlets they heard a voice address them.

"You two need some help? You're making a mess."

They turned to see a station attendant wearing a firm expression. Ron looked at Hermione as she was always the best one handle these kinds of things. She smiled and turned on the charm.

"Oh, thank goodness, yes sir. Would you know anything about the old Jubilee platform?"

The man looked taken back by the question. He screwed his face and looked at them suspiciously.

"There was a couple in here last week looking for that old platform."

"Really!" Hermione replied and looked excitedly at Ron.

"Well, I can't imagine what the attraction is, but if you must it's down this way and on your right. It's not marked, just the escalators to the lower level. That's as far as you can go. The platform itself has been boarded up."

"Thank you so much," she exclaimed and grabbed Ron's hand.

"Good day then," he replied and tipped his cap.

Tearing off down the hall, they arrived at the unmarked escalators a few moments later.

"This must be the one," Hermione said and Ron agreed.

Carefully descending the worn steps they paused to evaluate the service doors leading to the old platform. The doors had two loop brass handles facing and quite close together. The brass loops were worn and shiny toward the bottom.

"Look at the wear marks on the handles – they must have been chained not too long ago," Ron said and immediately grabbed the door handle and pulled. The door popped open. They looked at one another in amazement.

"Not even locked. Someone's been through here recently," Hermione snapped.

They entered the circulating areas for the disused line and saw the maintenance equipment scattered about the station entrance.

"Look, there's the chain," said Ron and pointed to the coiled chain in the floor.

Hours later Ron and Hermione's enthusiasm had began to fade. The sheer amount of unused space and tunnels was almost to much to cover. Their plan was to venture down the old tunnel and little further and come back the following day.

"HARRY," shouted Ron. He would wait until the echo subsided and then walk a few dozen paces and try again. Hermione had gone off in the opposite direction and occasionally he would hear hear her call.

"HARRY," he called again, but this time the echo was a little different. There were two return echos instead of one. Somehow this seemed like a sign and Ron quickened his pace. The cause for the double echo return was obvious. There was a large ventilation tunnel branching off the main tunnel. Ron called out again but heard nothing. He ventured a little ways into the ventilation tunnel but the unlit shaft was pitch black. He strained to see into the blackness but could see nothing of the wizard he was after. Disgusted, tired, and really hungry, he was thinking it was all be easier in the morning. He turned his head to leave, but from his peripheral vision which was better suited to darkness, he saw a glimmer of light reflect from something shiny on the shaft floor.

"Lumos," he conjured and the wandlight seemed to illuminate a dark lump on the ground.

"Lumos Maxima," he called out and cast the wand again to reveal a human figure on the ground and not a lump.

With his heart in his throat, he ran for the figure. He ran, almost stumbling on loose stones to get there. It was Harry lying in the floor and Ron's heart raced fearfully as he stared at the lifeless figure. He could find no pulse in his wrist, but fear turned into excitement when he felt a good pulse in his neck. The young wizard lay unconscious and naked in the floor. Both wrists and hands were a bloody mess. His naked body was emaciated and filthy. His two wands were in his right hand and the shiny object, that he had first spotted, appeared to be a watch. It was clutched tightly in his bloodied left hand.

"Harry!" he called to his friend, but the young wizard mumbled, nearly unconscious.

It would be obvious to anyone that Harry was in bad shape and badly needed the healers. Ron didn't dare leave him, even for a moment. He tried a sending a message Patronus to Hermione but couldn't get it the spell to work. Never letting Harry out of sight he moved back to the mouth of the main tunnel.

"H-E-R-M-I-O-N-E," he yelled as loud as he could. He listened and thought he heard the witch yelling back.

:

A/N: I guess this chapter blows away earlier accusations from 'Ranger' that Penny is a Mary Sue. :) If you'd get your head out of fanfiction once in a while you'd know the correct term here is femme fatale.

You gotta take the good along with the bad, but kids like AlsoKnownAsMatt really grind my gears. They briefly check into a story you've been planning a year and attempt to discredit it with a few comments. Kid, are you so f***king naive to believe the door to Diagon Alley in the Leaky Cauldron is the only way in?

And about summoning Kreacher: The rules on this are a little vague. Rowling left plot holes behind that were big enough to drive a truck through; but hey that's okay. Most people just go with the story because her fantasy world is so colorful, complete, and fun to read. So why didn't Harry call Kreacher at Malfoy Manor in DH? Well the real reason, the one people like you never catch, is that it was just a plot point that she set up early on. Oh there was a reason given - one that people like you would approve of, in an earlier chapter but it made little sense. The real reason was that it was a plot point. She didn't want Bellatrix to kill Kreacher because no one would really care. No, it had to be Dobby. So she cooked up some corny excuse not to summon Kreacher and had Aberforth send Dobby in his stead.

Now back to my story. Do you really think Penny, after staying at Grimmauld Place and knowing of Kreacher, would imprison Harry somewhere where Kreacher could easily be called? That's just plain silly. No, she would merely use some kind of spell or spells to render ineffective any attempt by Harry to call the elf. She wouldn't try and make a 'ward' to block a house-elf; that would have been much harder.

And the other comments by this person: Penny can't be charged as an accessory to murder or any other charge until they know a crime has indeed been committed. This is why Kingsley makes an angry threat to give her Veritaserum. You have to have a body to prove a murder has been committed. At this point they have nothing - kind of like you.

Please forgive the rant. Thanks for all the new favs and follows.

Grats for reading and don't forget to review.