Raylynx's POV
I made my way down to the Great Hall for dinner. I had just entered when I thought I heard a commotion behind me, out in the entrance hall where I had just come from. I hesitated, and then made my way back, trying not to run into any of incoming students.
When I reached the entrance hall again, I heard Draco Malfoy's voice reciting something. I listened more closely.
In that drawling voice that he'd inherited from his father, Draco read aloud, "Arnold Weasley found that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene."
"Mr. Mal-!" I began.
But at that moment, Draco held up the paper and crowed, "And there's a picture, Weasley! A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"
Ron was shaking with fury.
"Get stuffed, Malfoy!" Harry said angrily to Draco.
"Mr. Malfoy, you cannot-!" I started again, but I was too far away from them for my voice to properly carry without outright yelling. I quickly began to make my way through the crowd towards them, gently but firmly pushing students out of my way. "Move, please," I ordered. As the students realized that I was trying to get through them, they finally parted for me. I hurried towards Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco.
As I finally came within appropriate speaking distance, I heard Harry say to Draco, "Keep your fat mouth shut, then."
As Harry began to turn away, Draco whipped out his wand and pointed it straight at the back of Harry's head.
Draco had already shouted a spell by the time I'd gotten my wand out, but fortunately, it was a weak spell. With a simple, quick slash at the air, I managed to deflect Draco's spell so that it missed Harry's head. It hit the stone wall behind Harry.
Harry plunged his hand into his own robes for his wand.
"Mr. Malfoy!" I started yet again, advancing towards Draco. "Fifty points from Sly-!"
"OH NO, YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"
Bang!
I gasped and jumped back when a jet of bright white light came out of nowhere and hit Draco smack in the face. He yelped and then, he disappeared. But no, wait – he wasn't completely gone. Instead, he was a… a ferret. A pure white ferret.
Students burst into laughter, though the other Slytherins seem horrified and scandalized.
Professor Moody, who had just come limping down the marble staircase, made his way to the front of the crowd with little effort. Unlike with me, the students were scared of Moody and scattered before him without him even saying anything.
As Moody's larger-than-life presence filled up the entrance hall, terrified silence descended over the students. With a regretful sigh, I raised my wand to transform Draco back. As amusing as this might be, Transfiguring students as punishment was against school rules, and no student deserved it - even Draco. But as I started to wave my wand, Draco's friend, whom I recognized as Crabbe's son, Vincent, bent down to pick up Draco. I paused, not wanting my spell to accidentally hit Vincent instead.
"LEAVE IT!" Moody roared.
"Leave – what?" Harry said, bewildered, as he believed Moody was speaking to him.
"Not you. Him!" Moody whirled around and limped over to Crabbe. The ferret - no, Draco, I amended in my head - squirmed out of Crabbe's hand and wildly started to make for the dungeons, clearly trying to escape Moody.
"I don't think so!" Moody shouted, scaring the students once again. "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned." He pointed his wand at the ferret. A second later, the ferret - no, Draco, damn it, come on, you're a professor, I chided myself - was bouncing energetically against the floor like a child's rubber ball.
"Moody!" I rushed forward. "Professor Moody! You can't do that. You've got to-"
"Silence, Kingsley! You used to subdue these kinds of people daily! People like him... Stinking, cowardly, scrummy-"
"He's a student! This is wrong!" I protested. I drew my own wand. I quickly produced a shield that disrupted Moody's spell, stopping the ferret's jubilant bouncing. The white ferret (I'd given up on correcting myself) lay limply on the flagstone floor.
Moody's eye swiveled towards me, obviously displeased. His tongue flickered out and he licked his bottom lip slowly, in evident disapproval of my actions. "You've become soft…" he accused me.
Noticing Harry, Ron, and Hermione's curious gaze on me, I shook my head at Moody.
"Professor Kingsley? Professor Moody?" At that moment, Professor McGonagall came down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly.
"What - what are you doing?" inquired Professor McGonagall hesitantly, her eyes on the ferret still lying pathetically on the floor.
"Teaching," Moody replied. His eyes were still on me.
I shifted a bit uncomfortably, wondering if he was actually furious with me for stopping him.
"Teaching? Teach… M- Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.
"Yep," Moody replied. His face split into a slow grin. "Professor Kingsley can attest to that, can't she? If she can remember it."
I frowned at him. Why is Moody bringing up my Auror days here, in front of all of these students? He can't honestly be disappointed that I don't go around cursing students as a Professor, can he? Surely, he knows that there's a difference between an Auror and a Professor, even if he choses to ignore that distinction.
"No!" cried Professor McGonagall. She pulled out her wand and pointed it directly at the ferret.
Snap! Draco reappeared in his human form, lying in a heap on the floor with his blond hair all messed-up and his face pink with exercise – and with humiliation.
"Moody," I said, keeping my voice as calm as possible to convey that I wasn't challenging him, "we don't use Transfiguration as punishment here. Ever."
"She's right," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"
Moody finally looked away from me. He scratched his chin nonchalantly as he said in an offhand voice, "He might've mentioned it, yeah…"
"We give detentions, Moody," I said wearily.
"Yes, or speak to the offender's Head of House," Professor McGonagall said. She looked at Moody severely. "Remember that. No Transfiguration."
"Fine, fine," Moody said, irritably waving his hand at us.
Behind us, Draco got to his feet, muttering about how "my father will hear about this."
At this, Moody barked out a short, harsh laugh. "Your father? I know your father of old, boy. You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son… You tell him that from me…"
"Moody," Professor McGonagall warned.
Moody scowled. He looked back at Draco and demanded, "Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"
"Yes," Draco responded resentfully.
"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape…"
Moody grabbed Draco's arm and marched him off towards the dungeons to find Snape.
"Be off with you," Professor McGonagall said, waving her arms at the students. As Harry passed me, he gave me a small smile. I shook my head at him, but he now knew how to detect the lightness and merriment in my eyes. Besides him, Ron was saying to Hermione, "I want to fix that in my memory forever. Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret…"
I bent down to help Professor McGonagall pick up her books.
"Never mind," McGonagall said wearily. She waved her wand and her books stacked neatly back in her arms. Then, she looked up anxiously at the staircase, which Moody and Draco had just disappeared up.
"Raylynx, would you do me a favor and follow them? I want to make sure that the... the conversation between Moody and Snape doesn't get out of hand. I imagine that that will be a tense conversation, and Draco, whatever his heritage, doesn't need to be subject to that."
"You're asking me to be the neutral party?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow at McGonagall. "I'd love it if Moody turned Snape into a ferret, too, and bounced him all around the dun-"
"All right, you insolent girl," McGonagall snapped, fed up with me. "I shall do it myself. Then, you will take these books to Madam Pince promptly."
Without waiting for me, she unceremoniously dumped all of the books into my arms before climbing back up the marble staircase herself.
"Transfiguration is only prohibited as punishment for students! Not other professors!" I yelled up at her retreating back while I struggled to wrap my arms around all of the heavy books she'd dumped on me. But McGonagall was too dignified and too used to my immaturity to waste her energy on responding to me. With a sigh, I hoisted the tall stack of books up in my arms and headed for the library.
Moody's talk with Snape must have gone exceedingly well – that is, exceedingly well for Moody and quite poorly for Snape, because Snape was absolutely foul to Neville the next day. To be fair, Neville, in all of his nervousness, had melted his sixth cauldron in Potions. Still, Snape's task for him in detention was to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads, which most people - let alone Neville, who preferred plants to animals - would find disturbing and squeamish.
"It's disgusting," Hermione said simply. "Poor Neville."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had come to visit me during lunch. I was absent-mindedly going through my lesson plans for the next class as they sat at the desks in front of me and chatted freely.
"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" Ron asked Harry.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "Moody. I reckon Snape's avoiding him."
The three of them shot me a furtive look, wanting to see how I reacted to this bit of guesswork. I merely bent my head over my notes and turned the parchment over.
"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said again, keeping his eyes on me.
I tried my best to hide my grin at this obvious ploy for information. Harry didn't just inherit James' looks. He inherited almost all of James' mannerisms, which makes Harry a truly terrible liar.
Suddenly, Ron chirped up, ""Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad, and bounced him all around his dungeon…"
I finally laughed. I knew I shouldn't. I knew it was unprofessional. Remus would have chided me. But the imagery was too good not to laugh at.
Ron grinned at me.
Then, Hermione piped up, "We'd better go, you know. If we want good seats and all that…"
"Good seats?" I said, finally looking up. "For class?"
"Yeah. It's Moody's first class today, and we've all heard he's wicked," Ron informed me.
"Right," I said, amused. "Well, have a good class, then."
I waved to the three of them as they walked out, eagerly clutching their Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks.
"See you later, Professor Kingsley," Hermione said to me, just before she slipped out and closed the door behind her. I nodded at her. I had my seventh years now, but my fourth years afterwards.
I had somewhat expected my fourth years to be a bit surprised after Moody's class simply because I knew that Moody was strictly no-nonsense and that his sense of Defense Against the Dark Arts (and the Dark Arts) came not from "academic professionalism", but from being out on the field.
What I did not expect, however, was a shell-shocked group of fourth years, and a quietly sobbing Neville.
"All right," I said finally, shaking my head and erasing the Ancient Runes diagram on the board. I turned around to the class. "This won't do. Let's talk."
I walked forward, passing my desk, and approaching the students' desks.
"What's happened?" I inquired, addressing them all.
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, Hermione raised her hand. "Professor, please…"
"Yes?"
"We just had our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class…"
"Yes, I'm aware. And?"
"Professor Moody said that we were up to speed on learning about Dark Creatures, but not on spells."
I nodded, waiting for her to go on.
"So then, he proceeded to – to demonstrate all of the Unforgiveable Curses in front of us on a spider."
I paused. "Wait. You just saw all three of the Unforgiveable Curses performed in the past hour?"
I was met by a sea of nodding heads.
My eyes fell on Neville, and I suddenly understood what had affected him so badly. He saw the Cruciatus Curse being performed today. Now, he knows exactly how Alice and Frank lost their minds… He must have realized what a slow, torturous process it was…
Someone else blurted out, "He even tried the Imperius Curse on a few of us!"
"Merlin, Mad-Eye," I cursed under my breath.
I sighed. "All right. I can easily understand why that's unsettled you."
"Okay," I said, "I'll take a leaf from Professor Lupin's book. We'll have an experiential session of Ancient Runes today."
I took a few steps back and drew a Runic Circle on the floor, quickly embossing a simple Circle with the words "Sun" and "Warmth" all around the edges. My students gasped when they saw me writing with light.
I beckoned to my students, saying, "Everybody, form a line."
The students piled up together in a decidedly disorganized line, as everyone peeked out to stare at the circle. Only Neville, who was last in line, seemed disinterested and dazed. Hermione, who I was sure had recognized the Runes as I drew them, was first in line, eager to see what I'd done.
I nodded at her. "Step into the Circle, Hermione. Stay there for ten seconds, and tell me what you feel."
She stepped forward. Everyone watched her curiously as she shut her eyes.
After a moment, she beamed. "I feel sunshine… As though it's a brilliant summer's day. It's warming me… I can feel it on my skin."
"Good," I said softly. "All right, everyone, filter through. Ten seconds apiece."
As more students passed through, the students toward the back of the line began to grow impatient. They started to chant, counting down from ten, making the student in the Circle feel distinctively pressured and nervous. The class roared together hyperactively, "TEN, NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN - !"
"All right, all right!" I laughed. "This is supposed to be a method for relaxation, not stress."
I drew another Circle so that the line could split. Half of the students galloped over to the new circle, pushing and shoving each other. Laughter rang out amongst my students as they poked and prodded each other. Only Neville didn't partake in the fray, but reminded quietly in the back.
Now that the class had largely died down and was self-regulating, I quietly walked over to Neville.
He quickly looked down, hiding his face from me.
"Neville," I said gently, "I'll go talk to Professor Moody after class if you want me to."
But Neville firmly shook his head. "I'm not scared," he told me quietly, even as he wiped his misty eyes.
I hesitated. "You're not?"
"No, not anymore. I was at first. But not anymore."
"Then what's affecting you so?"
"It's rather that… It's just that I understand now."
"What do you mean?"
"When I first saw my parents, I was horrified. I kept thinking, 'Gran and everyone keeps telling me about how much my Mum and Dad loved me. But if they loved me so much, why couldn't they recognize me?' But, I think I know now," he whispered. "I understand."
He held his head up and said adamantly, "I'm proud to be their son."
"But… I just… It's going to take time for me to…" His voice trailed off, and his eyes fell back to the floor, uncertain again.
I reached out and softly gripped his shoulder. "Neville," I whispered, "you're already there."
He's not afraid. He's just trying to figure out how to be their son, all on his own. He's trying to figure out how to live up to his parents' bravery and sacrifice. Now that he understands how tragically his parents lost their minds, he wants to be stronger, better… Oh, Alice, your son has that quiet strength of you, that blossoms more and more beautifully in the face of hardship. I bet you're so proud of him.
"Now, go," I said, and pushed Neville lightly towards the Circle. "Give yourself a short moment of peace. It will help you reset."
Neville nodded and finally walked forward into the Runic Circle.
As class came to a close, I called out, "Listen, now! Don't do this by yourself, all right? There's a reason why we draw runes on paper first. To link a rune with magic is to give up control. Once you draw the Rune, you are at its mercy. You could trap yourself in your own Runic Circle. This is not like wandwork, where you specifically direct your energy. Do you understand me?"
"Yes," the class chorused back.
"Good," I said, relieved to see that many of my students seemed to have brightly come back to life. "Off you go, then. Be prepared to work hard next class. We need to catch up."
A herd of students eagerly stampeded out of my room, yelling and laughing and chatting. I smiled when I saw Hermione and Neville speaking together as they left.
After my students had filed out of my classroom, I myself made for Professor Moody's office.
Before I could knock, however, the door swung open. Professor Moody was sitting in his chair, his wand pointed at the door. He'd clearly just magicked it open.
"I saw you coming," he said succinctly.
I frowned. "How?" I asked.
He tapped the side of his head. "My Eye, obviously."
"Oh."
As I entered his office, I noticed an interesting assortment of Dark Arts and Defense objects. I recognized one of the items as a Foe Glass. I began to look into it, when Moody suddenly kicked a stool back from a table.
"Sit," he commanded.
I stepped away from the shelf and sat on the stool.
"What's your business?" he asked me briskly.
"I should be asking you," I replied. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a teacher, Moody."
"Humph. Rather ungrateful, aren't you?" he asked me. "Considering you worked under me when you were an Auror."
"I didn't work under you. I worked under Shacklebolt, and Ahmed. I just worked with you," I reminded him.
"Yes, yes," he said, irritably waving away the distinction with his hand.
"To answer your question, I came as a favor to Dumbledore. One year post, then back to my retirement," he replied.
"Did you have trouble coming to Hogwarts?" I asked. "I heard Arthur and Amos had to run over to your house to help you. It sounded as though you had been attacked."
At this, his eyes flickered up to me. He grinned. "They tried to get me, all right. It seemed that somebody… let slip that I was coming to Hogwarts. They thought it was the perfect time to attack me. But they lost against my dust bins."
"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, thumping his chest proudly.
"Merlin, Mad-Eye," I complained, gripping the edge of his desk to keep my stool from falling over all the way. "You've got to stop yelling out your life mantra. I respect it, I do – but the way you scream it out is unnerving."
"And speaking of unnerving," I said, before Moody could lecture me once more on the importance of "constant vigilance," "what on earth possessed you to show your fourth years the Unforgiveable Curses?"
Moody paused. "They've got to know," he said. "They've got to know what's out there."
"Mad-Eye, these are not Aurors-in-training," I reminded him. "They're children."
"What's the difference?" he responded. "Aurors-in-training, Death Eaters-in-training… They're all kids. Always have been. That's the way recruiting works."
He looked over at me. "How'd you hear about my class, eh? Who complained?"
"No one complained," I said quickly, not wanting to get anyone in trouble.
"Was it Longbottom?"
"No," I answered firmly. "I just noticed that my class was off today, that's all."
"Longbottom…" Moody mused, "I wonder if he knows what the Lestranges did to his parents…"
"He knows," I said quietly.
"Does he now?" Moody suddenly grinned, which took me off guard. But the grin disappeared in a flash, and Moody inquired, "That Longbottom boy. What does he like?"
I thought for a moment. "Herbology. He's the best at Herbology. Professor Sprout never stops talking about him."
"Hmm…" Moody said, thinking over that piece of information.
"Don't you think Neville's got the potential to be great at Defense Against the Dark Arts too?" I asked Moody, curious about what he thought of Neville.
Moody shook his head. "I had him bunny-hopping all over the classroom under my Imperius Curse. Boy's got no self-confidence."
"But Potter, though," Moody said, suddenly grinning again. "He's different from the rest. He resisted. Granted I was going easy on the boy, but there's something about him, all right."
"He has to be different," I said softly. "Given his background…"
Moody laughed harshly. "I suppose so."
Then, he looked over at me and said, "You know, I noticed you the other day in the Great Hall. You were remarkably slow on the uptake in protecting Mr. Malfoy. I wonder – did you enjoy it? Seeing Lucius' son being turned into a ferret."
"No," I said emphatically. "I tried multiple times to stop you-"
"Liar," Moody cut off, smirking at me. "You're a liar, Kingsley."
I shook my head at him. "I never dreamed you'd do such a thing, Mad-Eye."
"Then you've a pitiful memory, girl."
"What did Snape say?" I asked him. "When you took Draco up to him…"
Moody scoffed. "That greasy old bastard couldn't say anything to me. He knows what will happen if he does."
I paused. Then, I asked, a bit tentatively, "What?"
"I'll expose him, is what. How he was a Death Eater… How he wormed his way out of the Dark Lord's service by using Dumbledore…" Mad-Eye's eye swiveled onto me. "How do you stand working here with him? I'd have thought that you, of all people, would find it difficult to stomach being anywhere near him."
"I do," I admitted.
"Then why be at Hogwarts?"
"Because" I replied, "it keeps me close to Harry."
Moody's eyes crinkled in a wizened smile, as though this was exactly what he wanted to hear.
Sirius' POV
I was gazing at the fireplace, where Harry's head was floating in the flames.
Remus was sitting besides me. We were at Raylynx's house, and Harry and Raylynx were in Raylynx's chambers, using Floo Powder to contact me.
We could only risk a very brief conversation. The Floo Power Network was neither recorded nor strictly watched, but it was generally monitored by the Ministry of Magic.
"Ah, well, Moody's always been off his rocker," I was saying in response to Harry's recitation of how his first few days back had been. "But that's pretty intense. I would have thought even Dumbledore might have some reservations about letting a professor perform the Unforgivable Curses in a classroom."
"On fourth years, no less," Remus said, frowning.
"A lot of people reckon that Moody was the only one that Dumbledore could get for the job," Harry replied. "They think the job is cursed." His eyes flickered over to Remus.
Remus sighed, and then he shrugged. "I don't know about cursed, but Moody's a good professor, even if he is a bit, er – unhinged. You'll learn a lot from him, Harry. Just don't upset him."
Harry nodded. He paused as he turned his head to look over at Raylynx, who was out of view.
A moment later, Harry's head swiveled back on the fireplace and he said, "I should probably get going."
"Yes," Remus agreed. "Best not to risk it." He got up and said, "I'm going to make sure no one's watching us, Pads."
I nodded.
By the time I turned back, Raylynx's head had replaced Harry's.
"Sirius?" she said, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting on my side.
"I'm here."
"Well, Harry and I should get going. Best not keep our fireplaces connected for too long…"
"Right." I gazed at her face, outlined in the fireplace.
I hesitated. She seems a bit…?
"Lynx, are you drunk?"
"What?" she said, startled. "No!"
I told her, "If you fall completely into the fire because you're drunk and you land here, that's on you, and I won't be giving you back to Hogwarts."
"No," she repeated again. "It's just that Quincy – Er, right before this conversation, I fed him some Alder wood chips and I think it – ah, amplified his fire breathing capacities. The fire's starting to leak out of his tank and erm…"
"Harry?" she called suddenly. "You all right there?"
He must have responded affirmatively because she turned back to me without seeming too worried.
"Quincy, that little rascal," I murmured. "He's trying to set your room on fire, isn't he?"
Raylynx smiled. "No, he's lovely. He keeps me warm when you're not around, and he doesn't burn anything anymore – except my hand when I get carried away tickling him."
"How's Buckbeak?" she asked me.
Erm, in a cave about a hundred miles away from here?
"He's good," I replied.
"Not getting too restless?" Raylynx asked, lifting her eyebrow. I knew she wasn't just talking about Buckbeak anymore.
"No, all good," I said quickly.
"Okay, then." She paused. "Where's Remus gone off to?"
"To check for any suspicious activity outside."
"Ah, all right. Well, tell him good-bye for us, will you?"
"Yes."
She started to disappear when I murmured, "Lynx?"
She stopped. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
She looked at me, a bit puzzled, but she didn't have time to ask what I meant by that. She just nodded and replied warmly, "Be safe."
Then, with a soft pop!, she disappeared.
I sat uneasily in front of the fireplace for a moment.
Contrary to what people usually thought of me, I didn't think lightly of other people's sacrifices for me, nor did I relish in the slightest keeping my friends in the dark about what I was doing. I'd learned my lesson in not being open enough to my friends all too well when I didn't trust Remus and Raylynx thirteen years ago.
Still, there are some parts of yourself that you have to retain – that are too fragile to bring to the light, parts of your past and identity that only survive so long as you keep them in the dark. The easy answer, the safe answer, and in some ways the honest answer, would be to throw it all away. But I couldn't. They were too important to me, too essential to who I was, and most significantly – they were things that I alone had the duty to protect. I couldn't count on anyone else to support me or even understand…
Remus returned to the living room, informing me, "I didn't notice any unusual activity around the house, and none of the alarms were tipped off."
I nodded. "Raylynx and Harry asked me to pass on their good-byes."
Remus looked around the living room. "The house feels very different without them, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it does." I walked over to the couch and flopped back onto it.
"Still, Sirius, you need to stay here," Remus emphasized. "Short of going back to Grimmauld Place, this is by far the safest place for you."
"I know, Moons," I said wearily.
"Right. Sorry," he replied quickly.
I shook my head, indicating that I wasn't annoyed or mad at him in any way.
"I should get going," Remus told me. "I don't want to be late for work."
"No," he said, noticing that I was starting to get up to walk him out. "You don't have to see me out, Pads."
"I'll see you later," he told me, and with a last nod to me, he left the house.
I stared up at the living room ceiling for a long while, watching the soft, curious display of light on the ceiling as the last embers of the fire in the fireplace died out. When the wood cooled into coal, I got up and fetched my Demiguise cloak and two bottles of Polyjuice Potion.
Before Remus came over today, I'd spent the better half of the day in the neighborhood market, and I'd carefully picked two pieces of hair from two different people – the female worker who seemed to spend most of her days there and an elderly man who'd bought a good bottle of brandy before walking out, whistling.
I made my way down the trapdoor into the secret room and used the secret tunnel to escape out into Raylynx's backyard. Then, clutching the Demiguise Cloak tightly around me, I turned and Apparated.
The sale of illegal and unregulated items was one central feature of the underground market, one that the Blacks used to rule, but there was another feature – the stealing and selling of information. This latter domain had historically been run by the Selwyn family.
Though the Selwyn family had long since lost its chokehold grip on the market, it was still a powerful player. So, it was no surprise that the most prominent dealer could be found not in some dirty hidey-hole, but in one of the most well-known organizations in the magical community: the supposedly non-profit Information and Security Bureau, of which the Selwyn family retained all of the top executive positions.
I checked the street both ways before I swallowed the Polyjuice Potion containing the old man's hair. Then, slipping off my Demiguise Cloak, I walked into the Information and Security Bureau building.
There was no one at the front desk. In fact, it was completely silent. And although the black marble counters and glimmering gold chandeliers were gleaming spotlessly, there was nonetheless a dusty atmosphere to the place.
For a moment, I wondered if my information was outdated, and the organization had closed down entirely.
But the next moment, a witch appeared at the counter. She wore quite intricate velvet robes. Her blonde hair was immaculately swept up and her lips were a bright, attractive red.
"How may I help you?" she asked me professionally.
"Fiat voluntas dei," I murmured, which was the Selwyn's family motto, roughly translating to "The will of God be done."
She smiled.
"You've come to the right place," she assured me. "For we are always willing to serve those who uphold the old ways."
She repeated, "How may I help you?" But her tone was different, and her eyes flashed brightly with the understanding that what I was about to ask for was illegal.
"I would like to discover the location of a particular person," I told her.
She nodded primly. "I can help you with that."
She looked up at me questioningly. "And what is the information you're after?"
Trying to hold my expression and voice steady, I relayed, "I need to know the whereabouts of Regulus Black."
