Same disclaimers as before

Chapter 3: The Shadow Gallery

Evey woke up in a room filled to the brim with books. She was on a soft, queen-sized bed with red sheets. She quickly glanced down at her self and was relieved to see that she was still wearing her work clothes. Immediately, what she had done came back to her and she put her hands over her head. "What've I done?" she whispered. She shook violently as she slowly got out of the bed.

She took a quick look around at the books piled in stacks all around her. She took one at random and looked it over. "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?" she dropped the book and took another. "Quidditch Through the Ages?" She put the book down and massaged her head. "What the hell is going on?" she groaned to herself

Evey looked over to the other side of the room and saw a wooden door. She quickly dodged around a pile of books and exited the room. She found herself in a long hallway. The walls were made of some kind of beige stone, it reminded her a lot of Hogwarts. Was she at Hogwarts?

From down the hall, Evey heard light music playing. Carefully and slowly, she followed her ear down the hallway. Lining the walls were dozens of paintings, some of them moving, others still. A set of black armor stood at the end of the hall, its arm raised to the left, pointing Evey into a second passage. Lamps lit the way for her as she passed magnificent masks and pictures, pieces of antique furniture and ancient relics. She felt a vague magical aura from some of them, but just as many seemed to be nothing more than old work of art from the muggle world.

As she grew closer to the source of the sound, Evey realized it was a slow jazz song. "Thought you were through with me," sang a woman, "And now you say you love me." Evey stepped out of the passage into a veritable museum. Each part of every wall in the room was covered in art. The floors held rich rugs and tables around the room held artifacts and other artworks. Bookshelves held everything from lamps to potion vials. In the corner, an old jukebox machine was playing the music. "Well, just to prove you do," it sang, "Why don't you cry me a river? Cry me a river. I cried a river over you." Evey wandered through the room, but stopped at the jukebox. She ran a hand over the song list and read it with interest.

The room suddenly felt a bit colder and Evey looked behind her. She jumped when she saw the stark black uniform and white mask of V only a few feet behind her, watching her with narrow, black eyes. "You scared me." She muttered, collecting herself angrily.

"Oh? My apologies, are you feeling alright?" V asked with a slight bow.

Evey leaned against the juke box. "Um, yes thank you." She looked around, "What is this place?"

V rocked on his heels. "It is my home. I call it the Shadow Gallery."

"It's…beautiful," said Evey. She meant it too. It was a lovely combination of art from her wizarding world and her parents' muggle world. "Where did you get all this?"

"Oh, here and there," said V vaguely. He walked around a grand piano and sat at the bench. "A friend of mine helped smuggle some of it from Hogwarts, but most of it is banned art, blacklisted by the New Order. I procured a fair number of items from the Department of Mysteries. Oh, and much of comes from the Vaults of the Department of Objectionable Materials."

Evey stared at him. "You stole it? You stole from the ministry?"

V chuckled under his mask. "Heavens no! Stealing implies ownership; you can't steal something from someone it does not belong to. No, I prefer the term liberated. I liberated these items from those who would see them covered in darkness and dust until they rotted away, both in form and in memory."

"If they ever find this place…" Evey let the statement hang.

"If they ever find this place," said V dryly, "Then a few bits of art will be the least of my worries."

Evey groaned and fell to the ground. She slid up against the juke box and put her head between her knees. "God, I disarmed that officer. Why did I do that?"

"You did what you thought was right." Said V. "How old are you, Evey?"

"22."

"Then you are old enough to remember the first war between the good wizards and witches of England and the terrorist Voldemort?"

Evey's head shot out from between her legs, her eyes wide. "You speak his name?"

V waved a hand inconsequentially. "Fearing a name only increases your fear of the thing itself. A name is just a name, Evey, and Voldemort isn't even his real name."

Evey's jaw dropped, but she quickly closed it and stared at V. "Um, I don't really remember the war. I was just a little girl, and my magic was just starting to develop."

"I see." For a moment, they sat together in silence.

Finally, Evey stood up. "I think I should go."

"May I ask where?"

Evey started to walk towards the hallway she'd come in from. "Home. I have to go home."

"That guard saw you, Evey," said V, getting up from the bench, "He could identify you. If he can identify you, he can find out where you live. If he finds out where you live, then your home is no longer safe. Not to mention by now your heritage has likely come to light."

"I have friends," said Evey. She stopped walking away and turned to V. "I can stay with them."

"I'm afraid that won't work either." Said V with a shake of his head, "Your status has likely risen to the level of Undesirable. Anyone caught associating with you will be questioned and their family trees search." He sighed and walked forwards towards her. "You must understand, I didn't want this for either of us, but I simply could not see another way. If I'd left you there, unconscious, you'd be in one of Yaxley's interrogation rooms right now. You'd be imprisoned, tortured, and, in all probability, kill you in pursuit of finding me."

Evey regarded him warily. "After what you did for me, I couldn't just leave you, so I brought you here, to my Shadow Gallery."

"I won't tell anyone," said Evey, her face paling as the penny dropped. She understood what V was saying now. "I swear I won't tell. You know you can trust me."

V hung his head slightly. "I'm sorry, but I can't take that risk."

"But I don't even know where we are!" protested Evey, "We could be anywhere!"

"You know it's underground," said V sadly, "You know the color of the stones. To a good detective, that's enough to find me."

"So…I have to stay here?" Evey whispered in horror.

"Only until I'm finished," Said V, "After the second of May, I hardly think it will matter."

"May? I have to stay here seven whole months?"

V stepped forward another step. "I'm sorry, Evey." Evey didn't reply. Instead, she drew her wand from her back pocket. V didn't flinch as she raised it at him.

"Release me!" she hissed.

"I'm very sorry, but I can't do that."

"Rictusempra!" cried Evey, slashing her wand through the air. The tickling charm hit V square in the chest, but he simply sighed and walked back to the piano. Evey shook her head in confusion and raised her wand again. "Stupefy!" The red jet of sparks again met its mark, but V sat down calmly behind the piano and began to play an unfamiliar melody.

"I'm afraid magic doesn't quite work on me, Evey." He said without looking up from his fingers."

Evey dropped her wand with a clatter. "What are you?" she whispered. V didn't look up, content to play his music. Evey ran back through the hallways to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. A stack of books toppled over from the force, but she ignored it and crawled into her bed.

. . .

"You're not going to believe this." Finch was leafing through the files on Evey Hammond, his eyes wide.

His partner, Dominic, glanced up from his files and paperwork. "What?"

"The girl's parents," Finch handed over two pictures of a happy looking couple, "They're muggles."

Dominic looked up, his attention fully grabbed. "And nobody handed her in?"

Finch rolled his eyes and leaned back from his desk. "There are thousands of wizards in London alone, Dominic; it's difficult to search the family tree of every single one of them."

"Fair."

"It gets better," continued Finch, "It appears she had a brother too. They were all out one day a few years back when they saw two wizards fighting in the street."

"Wizards?" exclaimed Dominic, "Dueling in public?"

"Indeed. Do the names Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew ring any bells?"

Dominic stared at Finch. "No way."

"Way," said Finch with a nod, "Pettigrew blew up an entire street, killing twelve muggles. The parents and brother were three of them."

"Nothing but bad luck here." Muttered Dominic.

Finch spun around in his chair. The far wall held a tack board where blown up pictures of V were pinned up. In each one, V simply stared back at Finch, capable of moving, but unwilling, his Guy Fawkes mask chillingly unreadable. "We know her story," murmured Finch, half to himself, "What's his?"

. . .

The strains of 'Girl from Ipanema' wafted through the air like a bird. It was followed by the smoky scent of bacon. Evey loved bacon. Slowly, she slipped out of her bed. She hadn't left the room in a few days and was both hungry and dirty. She carefully traced her steps back through the hallways to the Shadow Gallery.

She saw in the far corner of the gallery, a small kitchenette where V, wearing a very out of character pink floral apron, was gently turning over a tray of bacon while humming along to the song on the juke box.

"V?"

The man turned to her, absentmindedly scrubbing away at the bacon. "Ah! Bonjour madam!" he greeted her kindly.

Evey rubbed her arm in embarrassment. "I wanted to apologize for my reaction the other day. I know you need to keep me here, and I'm sorry I tried to curse you." V stopped messing with the bacon and turned to give Evey his full attention. Before he could reply, however, she caught sight of his bare hands. "God," she whispered, "Your hands." They were red and blistered. Each vein protruded over scorched and gaunt flesh.

V looked down at his hands in surprise. "Ah, yes," he said to himself. He quickly turned and grabbed his glove from the counter, slipping them on quickly. "There," he turned back to Evey brightly, "That's better. I hope I didn't put you off your appetite, I would love for you to join me."

Evey blinked and pulled her eyes away from his now-covered hands. "No, no, I'd love to eat. It's just…are you alright?"

V turned back to his bacon. He scrapped it off the tray and laid it on a plate to cool, while simultaneously throwing another dozen slabs onto the hot cooking surface. "Yes, yes, yes," he said, waving away the question, "Quite fine."

Evey hesitated. "May I ask what happened?"

V paused, his hands steady and still over the bacon. "There was a fire," he said eventually, "Some time ago. Ancient history for some, but quite recent for others. Not good table conversation really. Now, how would you like your eggs?"

"Sunny side up, please." It took V a few minutes to finish with the bacon and start making a few eggs in a pan. Evey helped herself to a seat at the small card table that V seemed to be using as a dinner setting.

"Would you like tea with breakfast?" he asked.

"Yes, earl grey if you have it." V put her eggs and a dozen crispy bacon strips on a plate and placed it in front of her with familiar silverware.

Evey examined the fork. "Is this from Hogwarts?"

V chuckled. "When I smuggled out some of the portraits, I managed to grab a few other items as well, a bit of a challenge to the Death Eaters stationed there." Evey grinned despite herself while V poured her tea.

Finally, the two sat opposite each other at the table with Evey's meal prepared. Evey wasted no time and dug into her eggs. "Mmm," she sighed happily, "This is delicious."

"Why thank you," said V courteously, "My mother used to make them for me all the time." He muttered something under his breath and chuckled to himself. Evey gave him a questioning look and he cleared his throat. "It's nothing."

"Why aren't you eating?"

V turned his head to the side. "I'm afraid I don't eat much these days. Poor digestion, you see."

Evey took another bit of egg followed by her scarfing down two bacon strips. "Good lord!" she whispered, "How did you do this?"

"Oh, I sprinkled a little bit of shredded dragon scale. From a Norwegian Ridgeback if I remember correctly."

Evey's jaw fell open so fast and suddenly, her food threatened to fall out. "Where the hell did you get that!" she whispered in awe, "Nobody's been able to get that since-"

"Since the minister declared it a Class A Non-Tradable Item last August." Finished V, "Yes, I'm well aware. I stole it from a supply train on its way to his hidden bunker."

"You stole from the Minister of Magic?"

V barked a laugh. "Calling Pius Thickness a Minister is a bit of a stretch. He's more puppet than man. Regardless, are you really surprised that, after robbing the Ministry of some of its darkest secrets and most desirable objects, I would be afraid to steal some condiments?"

Evey stared at him, slowly taking another bite of bacon. "You're insane," she said around the food.

V gave a half shrug. "I dare do all that may become a man, who dares more is none."

Evey swallowed her bacon and smiled. "Macbeth."

V gave her a proud nod. "Very good."

Evey turned back to her plate. "My mum used to teach Shakespeare at York. She used to read his plays to my brother and I at bedtime. It made we want to act, be a performer. Unfortunately, Hogwarts didn't have much of a theater program. Every few years they'd do a holiday pageant, of course I don't need to tell you that, you went there. One year we did a production of Twelfth Night and I played Viola. Mum wanted to come up and watch, but, you know, no muggles allowed." Evey finished her plate and dabbed her mouth with a cloth napkin. "Still, she was very proud."

"Where is your mother now?"

Evey glanced at her empty plate. "She's dead."

"I'm sorry"

There was an awkward pause. Then, Evey stood and took her plate to the sink. "Can I ask about what you said on the telly?"

"Yes?"

Evey turned to look him in the mask. Even when she stared directly into his eyeholes, they were to narrow and too dark to see his eyes behind. "Did you mean it?"

"Every word."

"You really think destroying the ministry is going to make this world a better place?"

V laughed. "Hardly, I know full well that the Ministry can operate adequately enough without its central building. Besides, the true power no longer resides in the Ministry itself."

Evey hesitated. "You know that if anyone shows up on May second, they'll be executed, every one of them."

"People shouldn't be afraid of their governments," V said with a sense of finality, "Governments should be afraid of their people."

"And you're going to make that happen by blowing up a building?"

V rubbed his hands together. "The building is a symbol, as is the act of destroying it. Symbols are given power by people. Alone, a symbol is meaningless, but with enough people, blowing up a building can change the world."

Evey sighed. "I wish I could believe that, V."

"Do believe it!" V exclaimed, "Just the other night I destroyed the Old Bailey, and less than 24 hours later, your government censored office was in chaos. Why? Because I destroyed a building."

Evey sat down at the table. "I guess…I guess every time I've seen this world change, it was always for the worse."

. . .

I had to change the last chapter to fit it into both the V for Vendetta and Harry Potter cannons.

Review!

Also, I know who V really is, but I'm wondering if it would be sacrilegious to reveal him at the end of the story.