The first faux-Occlumency lesson took place while Albus Dumbledore was away from the school. There would be others where his presence would mean that Severus would have no choice but to follow the instructions that had been laid out for him. However, he wanted to examine the memories that Dumbledore had given him first. The same innate sense that had protected him as a spy was telling him that there was something 'not right', and he would not risk the boy before he had figured out what it was. Therefore, they were once again approaching Slytherin's chamber.
"Are you ready, Harry?" Severus asked looking down on the boy who stood beside him. He wondered if the boy would ever reach his proper height but shook such thoughts from his head as he led both teens from his office and towards the second floor.
Harry looked around the space, it barely resembled the place it had been in his second year. The stone floor had been polished so much it was practically smooth underfoot, it seemed that Dobby and Winky had added extra lights so that the area was now filled with a golden glow and most noticeably the dark stains on the floor were no more.
The group did not hesitate as they walked through the antechamber, into the cavernous mouth and through the door into the chamber beyond. This was truly the chamber of secrets. There was a hitherto unexplored door on the far side of the room, but it was to the desk that Harry wandered first, barely sparing a glance for the still empty portrait on the wall. The three books still sat on the shelf above the desk that the diary was resting on.
"Do you think it would be safe …?" Harry started to ask hesitantly.
"Yes, Harry. I think it would be safe for you to take those with you when you leave today, however I would leave them in Black's library," Severus replied.
Harry negligently flipped open the cover of the diary, then pulled the seat away from the desk and sat. Percival conjured chairs for himself and their professor. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Severus finally spoke.
"Well, are you going to read it Potter?"
"Out loud?"
"Of course, out loud!"
"Right, it seems to be an account of life in the castle," Harry said before he began hissing.
"Now in English if you please," Snape interrupted.
Harry looked up in confusion, "but …"
"Try again," Percival prompted. The hissing was repeated as Harry tried to read from the book. "Try reading a line, then looking up and telling us what it said."
"Right," Harry glanced at the page, then looked up. "There is a number in the corner 982. Today we have come upon the grounds of a grand keep. It appears deserted with no-one answering calls nor acknowledging the repulsive toots the Lord Gryffin released from his horn. The front portcullis was unsecured and so we investigated the keep itself. It appears to be very well appointed, and one wonders what treasures may be found within on a more thorough investigation, though the Lady Raven states that perhaps we should concern ourselves as to whether the previous occupants have been struck by some foul enchantment as there appears no evidence of any living being anywhere to be found. There is no food in the kitchens nor are gardens in evidence."
After scanning a few pages, Harry looked up, "This is an account of them investigating the castle and exploring the grounds. Then he goes on to say how he and the Gryffin Lord will leave the castle in search of suitable students. Leaving the Lady Raven to secure the keep."
"Are there many pages like that?" Percival asked.
Harry flicked through the book, before nodding his head. "Hundreds."
"Just pick another part."
"Ok. Ummm …"
"Very eloquent Potter."
"Sorry. Ok, this one has the number 990 in the corner … I think the numbers are years."
"Very possibly."
"The numbers of students have slowly been increasing and Helga is once again insistent that the size of the gardens needs to be increased. One of the children, a boy from a small holding some leagues away on the coast, mentioned how his family have constructed a building out of plates formed by carefully heating sand in the smithy's forge until attains a liquid state. It is then poured into lead moulds. It appears that when the material cools it becomes a solid once more. The solid is hard, though fractures easily, and allows some light through whilst blocking out wind, leading to a slight warming of the air within a structure made of the panels. A building constructed thusly, allows plants to grow or at least survive through the winter months. Helga has become obsessed with the concept. I believe she and Rowena are planning to travel at the next available opportunity to question the boy's family personally."
A few more pages were flipped, "The construction of the newest garden buildings is complete, and Helga's excitement can barely be contained. With the newest group of students, I have suggested that some training in the growing of plants for food and potions ingredients might be beneficial to the younglings. They are certainly becoming numerous enough that soon one of us will need to cease our teaching altogether in order to be able to provide for them whilst they are here unless steps are taken."
The dusty scrape of parchment sounded again.
"I think Mr Potter that we might have reached our limit for today," Severus interrupted before Harry could begin reading again.
"Yes Professor."
"Pack up the rest of the books. I would like to have a look through this last door before we depart."
There were no wards or spells on the door, and it opened easily before Harry's hand.
-o0o-
It was a cold dismal walk through a barren snowy landscape from the apparition point to the black fortress, necessitated by the settings of the wards. He had long ago resigned himself to his failure in lobbying for an exemption. It was ridiculous really, after all he had done for the Wizarding world, not to mention all he still planned to do. Though as the wheel turned again, he might be granted another opportunity. Now that the threat of Voldemort had been proven to be true and subsequently dealt with (at least superficially), the ICW would be begging him to return to his position. Perhaps he could use exemption from the wards as a bargaining piece. Pulling his thick fur lined travel robes tight around him, he mounted the last flight of steps. Sending a small blast of magic to alert the keeper of the fortress that he had arrived.
He was greeted a few moments later by a servile young man, wearing black robes.
"Please forgive me sir, we had not been expecting you. I should not let you in, you know. Visits are supposed to be strictly by arrangement with the Aurors office. They always tell me ahead of time."
Dumbledore did not deign to reply, merely glaring at the lackey. The usual man would never have dared to question his presence.
"Can I help you at all?" the man went on.
Dumbledore seethed as the man stayed by his side and did not immediately scurry off to other parts of the prison, "You help is not required," was all he said, weaving a subtle compulsion into his words.
"Of course," the man turned away.
"Obliviate," Dumbledore hissed with more force than he had intended as evidenced by the man stopping mid stride. Albus was worried he had erased all of the man's memories for a moment, but the guard soon shook himself and walked off without turning back.
With a sigh, Albus Dumbledore continued on his journey. It really was rather vexing that he had to climb all of the stairs to the topmost cell to visit his ex-lover. By the time he was standing outside the door, he was puffing. It would have been so much easier if he were allowed to apparate as he was at Hogwarts.
"You may as well come in," a slightly wheezy voice filtered out through the bars. "I always know when it is you Albus. The slaves who bring the food do not have such difficulty breathing after climbing the stairs."
Dumbledore removed an iron key from his pocket and unlocked the door before pushing it open. It was somewhat satisfying to note that Gellert looked much the same as he always did, a once handsome man gone to waste. The cell had a small window, both too high and small for a man to reach and climb out. Not that there was any ledge on the outside of the tower to support a man's weight. There was little in the cell, merely a thin mattress and threadbare blanket lying on the floor, a wooden stool upon which the man was sitting and a small table.
"They bring you books now Gellert?" Dumbledore enquired.
"Hmm, they do not wish me to have an idle mind. I believe it is an innovation of the current administration."
The bearded man took the few steps required to cross the room and lifted the book that rested on the table.
"The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts," Albus lifted an eyebrow.
"I do not choose what I am given. I found it an … illuminating read. It mentions that there is a new young Wizard set to rival even you," Grindelwald wheedled, hoping to annoy information out of his old friend regardless of how useless it might appear to be for him in his current situation.
"Pft. Harry Potter," Albus snorted dismissively. "The enchantments were set by his mother."
"Old magic," Grindelwald nodded.
"Yes, but not so old as to not be found," Albus agreed.
"The Potters were related to the Peverells were they not?" Grindelwald asked, eyes dancing with delighted mischief.
"The youngest brother," Dumbledore held his temper by the merest thread. "There is nothing of note about the boy. He is a rather substandard student." He paused then and took a deep breath before continuing, "How sure were you that the wand you held was the Elder wand?"
"Ah, not beating about the bush anymore, old friend. Straight to the point. I thought you just said that the boy was nothing?" the skin of his face drew taught with his grin.
"He is," snapped Dumbledore. "But there is another."
"Oh yes. Do tell."
The blue eyes surveyed the other critically.
"Who am I going to tell Albus, hm? This is the most entertainment I've had in many a long year," the grin grew wider as impossible as it seemed.
"A boy appeared," Dumbledore said in a near whisper, eyes fixed on the patch of light that fell on the floor. "Just appeared out of nowhere."
"No history at all that is curious."
A frown was turned on him and Gellert decided he rather liked the way it looked on the senior Dumbledore's face, it was certainly better than the smug expression he usually wore.
"He has a history certainly, but one that I am sure was not there before."
"It is unlike you to sound so unsure," Grindelwald commented.
"Percival Graves. He is Seraphina Picquery's godson."
"Well that is interesting. What does the boy look like?"
"Brown hair and eyes, much like a younger version of the original owner of the name."
"So, this boy appears complete with history. What is about him that makes you ask after my old wand?"
"He has a tattoo."
"Many men wear tattoos, Albus, you should know that after your last Dark Lord. Congratulations on his defeat by the way. I hope your latest apprentice will not go the way of the last."
And there was that damnable grin again.
"It is a tattoo of the Hallows," Albus said quietly, drawing the other man back to the point. "He said he was not at liberty to say who gave him the tattoo and that it was a 'gift'. His wand is Elder wood and Thestral hair." Gellert's face blanked in his surprise.
"So, you are thinking that he is what? The return of a man long dead?"
"His body was never found."
"Ha," Grindelwald chuckled. "That is easy to resolve. I had him imprisoned."
"Where?"
"Here of course. Where else is there? I created this fortress, only I understand every facet of it."
"Where?"
Gellert let out a proper full-bodied laugh this time, "In the deepest dungeon, where else?" He did not tell Dumbledore that it would take his blood to open the wards. The wiley old coot could figure it out for himself.
The old man who now produced a chair out of thin air, sat down with a huff, "I'll check it on my way out then."
"And deprive me of the joy of seeing you running from one end of my home to the other? Albus, you disappoint me."
"I am not here for your pleasure. I am here to investigate the possibility that the Master of Death is walking amongst us."
"Does he have the Hallows?"
"Well, he has a wand, he has access to the Potter cloak. At this stage I do not believe he has the stone."
"There's your answer. Clearly the boy is not the Master of Death. Perhaps he has merely been marked by Death as a …" hee cocked his head to the side in thought, "possibility."
"Yes. Or perhaps he is a resurrected version of the original Percival Graves."
"In which case he has already Mastered Death has he not? Perhaps we were wrong all along. Maybe the Hallows are not a requirement, maybe it is Death itself, and the Master shall gather them afterwards, hmmm? Is he powerful? Is he skilled in the esoteric?"
"I had thought he was no more than a slightly talented boy. While he did well in his lessons he did not appear impressively above the other students, though perhaps it was an act. Before my protege's intervention I watched him as he duelled Voldemort. At just fifteen he single-handedly fought him to a standstill."
"Until your latest protégé killed this new Dark Lord?"
"Oh, he's not dead," Dumbledore said blandly.
"Ha. This is part of your master plan yes," Grindelwald saw it immediately.
"Do you not agree that our vision would have made the world a better place?"
"Our vision," Grindelwald snorted. "My vision or yours Albus? It was well past due when I realised that they were not the same thing."
"Of course, they were the same," Dumbledore snorted.
"Whatever you say," Grindelwald refused to argue the point. "Have you found what you came for?"
"No. I need to know where you got your wand from?"
"Ah. What was it you called me before I battled your protégé? A magician. What a fine term that is, and I think you'll find Albus, that the Muggles have a saying. A magician never reveals his secrets."
Grindelwald cackled madly, even as in a fit of pique Dumbledore pulled his wand from his sleeve, "Crucio." He watched as the light flickered, listened as the demented laughter turned into screams, then he ended the spell. Leaving Grindelwald, breathless lying on the floor, limbs twitching. He banished his chair with a growl and left.
"Death comes to us all Albus," the man on the floor rasped into the empty silence of the room after the door had slammed shut with a clang. "Even you."
Albus Dumbledore heard the laughter start again echoing down the stairwell several minutes after he had left the tower cell, "Demented old bastard!"
Eventually he made it to the lowest cell, but the door would not open, even for the master key that he held. Blood wards! He should have killed the man while he had the chance. He only let him live out of some sort of weird, misplaced sentimentality. Next time Gellert would not be so lucky. Still, it was not as if the situation was unmanageable, it would just take another detour.
Gellert Grindelwald had after all been a brilliant, intelligent, and enigmatic wizard, there was no way he would have been held, even in a prison (especially in) a prison of his own design, without something holding him there. There was no doubt he would long since have manufactured a way to escape through magic or manipulation if Dumbledore had not held him to a higher power.
Dumbledore slipped into a small door at the foot of the stairs on the main floor. It was ingenious really to have all his most precious things hidden here. So far away from his apparent power base in England. In a place no-one would have dreamed he would come.
A wave of his hand dropped the charms concealing the entrance and a drop of his own blood smeared carefully on the door opened the wards to him. Passage through the labyrinth was rudimentary for one with the knowledge and none of the creatures he had added to the confined space, dared to attack him anymore. A final archway spelled to remove all enchantments and stolen from the Goblins without their knowledge, allowed him entrance into the room beyond.
Items glittered all around, immediately calling him to come and investigate, but he ignored their allure. Moving straight to his destination. Today was not a day to linger. If the body in Gellert's dungeon was indeed that of Percival Graves, then he might finally obtain the answers he sought.
There was a shelf that sat separately from all else in the room. Its contents being too precious to risk contamination with other magics. Bulbous corked glass bottles rested on oddly shaped wooden stands each one labelled and containing a deep red fluid. A wry smiled twisted at his lips, as he reached for a bottle at the front.
Harry Potter
It sat in front of bottles labelled with his parents' names, behind them: James' parents and grandparents. There was even a bottle labelled Petunia Evans. He had used that to try and create wards around the house at Privet Drive.
Beside them with no bottles behind it was one labelled Hermione Granger. It was a precautionary measure. This bottle was dated nearly a year past; he would have to see about refreshing it soon. He quickly picked up the bottle containing Gellert's offering and transferred a drop to a conjured thimble. Hastily shoving the bottle of Harry's blood into a deep pocket in his robes, yes that potion would work so much better if it was made using the boy's blood.
Back up the stairs he went, ensuring he raised each of his defences again. Though the tell-tale flash as he raised the last blood ward seemed slightly larger and more exuberant than usual. Which he made note of to check the next time he visited.
Again, he stood at the door to the lowest dungeon. Really what was it with Gellert's sense of melodrama? The place was dank, moss growing on the stone, rust on the iron bars, which he knew did not need to be there. It was not as if the bars were rusting after all, they were just made to look that way! With a huff, he drizzled the droplet onto the door, and smeared it into the grain with a fingertip. Finally, the door opened.
Inside, the room was much the same, moss-covered stones, the soft plonk of water dripping onto the floor at irregular intervals, and one set of bones in the corner of the room. Albus's frustration grew. It was almost like Gellert was so busy trying to look like the evil villain that he did not take it seriously at all! Surely there should have been a preservation charm placed on the place to prevent such deterioration. Still a bone could be useful, perhaps some dried blood could be extracted from within it, if the proper methods were applied. Then it could be determined if the boy was related. Still there was no saying that the man who had died here was actually Percival Graves at all.
Dumbledore sighed; he would need his wand for this. The spell was too precise. He waved his wand in a complicated fashion as he muttered in Latin. A piece of parchment appeared in the air, words in red ink across its face. Date, time, and cause of death. They all fit. There was also the incomplete residual resonance of the tiny amount of leftover magic that had seeped into the stones at the man's moment of death. Like a partial fingerprint it was not immediately useful, but he was sure that due to his job there would be a copy of Percival Graves' magical profile on file somewhere and if enough of it matched, he would have his answer. Still, it did appear that this was indeed the original man. Who then was the boy?
A femur was retrieved from the floor, and hastily shoved into the same pocket as the bottle of blood. With a kick the rest of the bones, clattered across the floor. He had not achieved as much on this trip as he had hoped.
"Sir?" the voice of the guard greeted him as he emerged back into the entryway. "Ah, you are supposed to make an appointment with the Aurors to come here, and they haven't said anyone was coming. How did you get inside?"
With a glare, Dumbledore raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra."
The young guard fell to the floor. He would be found several hours later by the incoming shift, leading to a panicked search of the fortress. Grindelwald, when asked, would tell them that Albus Dumbledore had visited him. Though they wound not believe him, convincing themselves that the man was beginning to go mad after his long confinement.
-o0o-
"Sir?" Harry's voice drifted back to his professor.
"Well …" Severus was struck dumb as he glanced over the boy's shoulder into the room beyond.
"Apparently Salazar Slytherin should have been in Ravenclaw," Harry said with a grin, stepping forward.
Snape's attention was taken up looking at a number of interesting artefacts, that graced small shelves affixed at various points to the walls of the room.
Percival crossed the space to walk amongst the freestanding bookshelves.
"There are two more doors back here," he called.
"So, we have the antechamber, the basilisk … house …"
"Nest?" Severus suggested.
"The office or perhaps it's a study, then the library. If these are truly Slytherin's chambers, then would his bedroom be …?" Harry glanced unsurely in Percival's direction.
"Only one way to find out?" Severus said.
"That's rather Gryffindorish of you, sir," Harry said cheekily.
"Keep that to yourself or you'll find yourself in detention all year."
Harry just grinned and ducked under the hand that Severus raised to ruffle his hair.
Entering the room on the left revealed the most magnificent potions laboratory. It quite took Severus' breath away. Along one whole wall stood a huge cabinet spelled with preservation charms that were reinforced by a runic ward.
"There must be a hundred ingredients that have not been seen in centuries in here," Severus said in awe. Harry and Percival suppressed their grins at their professor's giddy behaviour.
A whole wall was dedicated to cauldrons, of every possible size and material.
"A crystal cauldron!" He reached a shaking finger out to brush it reverently.
"What is that black one?" Harry asked, drawing the Potions Master's attention to a small cauldron on the end of one shelf.
There was the hissing intake of breath, "Dragon fire obsidian!"
It sounded as though Snape was going to faint, and Harry was oddly amused at the effect that the room was having on the usually dour man.
"There is a matching stirring rod on the table," Percival said helpfully.
"Oh," Severus immediately turned to the tables. Each of the three tables was set with a cauldron stand, runes engraved around the edges to vent fumes away and prevent everything from dust, insects or incorrect ingredients entering the space. A set of drawers along the third wall revealed a plethora of implements for cutting, grinding and a whetstone for sharpening the knives.
"Sir," Harry called from the middle workstation. "There is a handwritten book …"
"Let me see it!" Snape all but ran. "Is it in Parseltongue? What does it say?" he demanded.
"It…it appears to be journal containing experiments. Um," he cleared his throat and concentrated. "Potions and poultices abound for the treatment of a variety of common injuries and mundane complaints. However as yet there exists no such potion for the treatment of the various blood born afflictions of magical races or injuries caused by curses. Those worthy men who spend their time chasing down dragons to prevent injury to the mundane population may at times be afflicted with a rare form of pox, similar to the smallpox of the mundanes, and just as difficult to treat. So too the burns inflicted by such beasts inevitably leave scarring that cannot be healed by any means known at this time." He took a breath, "It goes on to talk about how he planned to adapt a number of different potions to see if he could 'affect' a cure."
"And?" Snape asked eagerly.
"It doesn't say what the outcome was sir. Though there are several comments about changes that did not work, and more steps that he wished to try."
"But…"
Harry held up the book, "This …" he pointed to the last line, "is the last line of instructions. It says to add a thimbleful of the liquid squeezed from a shrivel fig. Stirring for ten heartbeats and allowing the potion to cool. It does not say if he tried it out."
"But shrivel fig would not be beneficial in either of th …" Snape protested.
"Which is something that was discovered much later professor," Percival said blandly.
"But …"
"I promise I will translate the entire book for you, sir. Can we go and look in the other room now?"
Snape glanced around the room and looked ready to protest again.
"How about Harry and I look next door and you continue to investigate this space, sir?" Percival suggested.
"I…yes," Snape nodded stiffly.
It turned out that the next room held only a bed, robe and water-closet, all the surfaces were covered in a thick layer of dust. The room was cleaned relatively quickly with a few charms, and they returned to the lab.
"Is it just me, or is it odd that every painting in here is blank?" Harry asked curiously as they made their way out through the study.
"It could be that they were never activated, or that the subjects of the paintings are busy elsewhere."
"If you were Salazar Slytherin, who would you have a portrait of in your study?"
"The portraits were probably added at a later time, after all the spell to allow paintings to move was not created until the eleventh century and the one to imbue portraits with parts of the subject's personality much later," Percival said as they continued walking.
"Yeah, I suppose there was more than the two types of writing in that diary."
"It matters not," Severus dismissed the topic. Before he let them a go, he gave Harry a warning, "We will not be able to return to the Chambers every time you are here, Dumbledore will be watching us. Be sure to continue with your Occlumency practice. Repair any damage that the attempted possession caused, and practice pushing someone out. You cannot assume because you tricked Riddle once that you will succeed a second time."
"Yes Professor," Harry acknowledged, disappearing into the flames.
-o0o-
They were gathered in the library, Harry translating the potions book for Severus while the others read when suddenly Sirius sat up.
"Dumbledore is trying to come through the floo," he said urgently. "Harry get Remus, you will need to take him into the Lord's Study. Percival …"
"He will expect me to be visiting."
"That's fine, but in the meantime go get Janey from her room and take her to the study as well. It's about the only room that they can stay safely in where Dumbledore won't find them. The last thing we want is Dumbledore finding out that either of them is alive. When you are done with that you can return here if you wish, Harry I want you to stay with them. I will come and get you if needed."
He turned and slowly descended the stairs. Pressing a hand to a knot above the fireplace, he allowed the Headmaster a onetime pass through the wards.
"Oh Sirius! It was a rather slow trip through the floo today," Dumbledore chuckled. He pushed down his inner anger, well aware of what the delay in transit meant.
"What is it you need Dumbledore?" Sirius heard a door on the floor above close, followed by footsteps on the stairs as he greeted the Headmaster, ignoring his comment.
"Ah, well I have had some members of the Order complaining. You see they have tried to come through the floo for the meeting tonight and they were unable to arrive," he smiled benignly. "Molly wanted to start cooking a little early, so she was ready for everyone."
"Hmmm really? There's an Order meeting tonight is there? You haven't asked to hold any meetings here since just after the Weasley's returned to the Burrow. In fact, you haven't told me about any meetings at all, recently Dumbledore, so I was not expecting anyone."
"But my boy," Came the condescending reply, "Grimmauld Place is the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, where else would we hold meetings?"
"Oh, I'm sorry I thought that you had changed the Headquarters to the Burrow, after all that is where the last meeting I went to was." Sirius acted surprised.
"So you'll open up the floo again? Good."
"You misunderstand me, Albus. If you had told me that you wanted to move the Order back in, I would have told you that the answer was no."
"But…"
"You see," Sirius went right on talking, "I recently discovered that Kreacher has been in communication with my cousins, you remember Narcissa and Bellatrix of course. As this is a Black property it is entirely possible that they and their families could have come through the wards at any time. Father always had them set to allow family through. With Harry and Percival staying here, I did not want to take the risk. I have confined Kreacher to the house, had the wards amended and raised the war wards."
"But surely an exemption can be made for the Order! I trust them all."
"You may trust them, but I do not. I believe there is already a spy in our midst. I will not allow the mistake that cost my Godson his family to occur again. Nor will I allow what happened to Alice and Frank in the wake of the last war to be repeated. I will not be lowering the wards for anyone until we are sure that all of the Death Eaters have been captured and placed in Azkaban."
"Surely you cannot mean that Sirius. We must have a little faith in our fellows."
"Yes, I remember you saying the same, last time James and I brought our concerns to you. I seem to recall that did not end very well."
"Yes, well a man can be wrong on the odd occasion Sirius."
"It doesn't matter Albus. We already know that Remus was betrayed."
"Whatever do you mean?" Albus said as if aghast. He was going to have to bring this conversation back under his control somehow. Sirius was moving away from his influence; steps would have to be taken soon. It was going to be more difficult now unless he could be convinced to allow the Order back into Grimmauld place.
"It's the only thing that explains his disappearance. While I appreciate that you do not want to let everyone know that he was on a mission for the Order. Albus, both you and I know what task he was undertaking. As he was only going to speak to tribes with which he was already familiar there should have been no risk to him, and yet here we are. Months later and there has been neither sight nor sound from him. I believe we both know what that means, Albus."
With a sad tutting, Dumbledore nodded causing his long beard to sway, "It is unfortunate."
"I am not willing to risk either Seraphina's godson or my own. You will have to find somewhere else to hold your meetings."
"But my boy, this place is the safest …"
"Then I suggest you raise similar wards elsewhere," Sirius said with finality. "I hear Bill has done a magnificent job of protecting the Burrow."
"Very well, might I speak with Harry while I am here?"
"Of course, he's in my study. I will send him down."
While Sirius was out of the room, Albus cast Homenum Revelio. If he was going to reveal the prophecy to the boy, he did not want anyone else hearing it. There was only one other presence, located in the parlour, that must be Percival. It was concerning that he could not detect Harry until he emerged from the study.
"You wanted to speak to me, professor?" the messy haired boy asked as he appeared in the doorway.
"Yes Harry. Come in, come in. Shut the door behind you."
"Ok," Harry did as he was told.
"I am rather surprised at you Harry," the Headmaster intimated.
"Oh, why is that?"
"You have not sought me out following your visit to the Ministry."
"Should I have?"
"Yes, I thought you might like to discuss the events."
"Well, I did consider bringing the matter to your attention headmaster, but I decided against it."
Perhaps he had misjudged how far his protégée had pushed the boy away with her actions. "Why was that, Harry?"
"Well, I decided that seeing as you had let Hermione get away with everything she did wrong during the year, it was unlikely that you would punish her for attacking two classmates and abducting one of them. Then taking them to a closed government building after hours against their will. Not to mention the wilful destruction of property. I am still considering taking it through the appropriate legal channels, I'm sure the Department of Mysteries is investigating how the damage occurred."
The blue eyes blinked slowly, "That is a rather harsh view of things don't you think Harry?"
"Sir, if she had just knocked out me, I might have been able to forgive her, but she also knocked out Percival and stuffed him in a cupboard. I don't think that the US ambassador is going to let that drop, do you?"
"That was a misunderstanding I'm sure," Dumbledore dismissed. "I'm sure that you can find it in your heart to forgive her. She meant well after all."
"Hmm, just as she meant well when she poisoned me? Let's not mention she has not made any real effort to apologise for either event. Still, it won't only be up to me. Percival and Seraphina will have the final say."
"We all make mistakes Harry."
"Yes, we do professor, but when we do, we're supposed to acknowledge and apologise for them. Which is something that I haven't seen happening much at Hogwarts."
"Very well, I do hope that you find it in your heart to forgive her, Harry. Hermione has always stood by you in the past, a few bumps in the road of friendship is to be expected. Don't harden your heart, my boy. That will lead you down a very dark path. Think on it. It would be a shame to lose one of your only friends over such a little thing."
"I'll consider it, professor."
"Now, I know that Sirius means well, but he really is not really an appropriate guardian for you, and I must insist that you return to your aunt's at Privet Drive."
The bright green eyes blazed for a moment, but Harry remained silent.
"Your aunt and uncle must be missing you terribly Harry. Hmmm, in fact I will drop you back around there as soon as we are finished here. You just pop upstairs and pack. I'm sure Sirius won't mind Percival staying here as it is a bit late to be asking Petunia and Vernon for permission for a visitor."
"Professor," Harry began in a curiously calm tone of voice. "Are you not aware that my aunt no longer lives at Privet Drive?"
"Of course, she does Harry!" No! No, no, no Petunia could not have left that house, she knew better. Well, if she truly had and it was not just the boy trying to get his way, then she would just have to move back in!
"No, she does not, professor. There was an incident earlier in the year that caused her to leave my uncle and she is now living elsewhere. I do not believe that she would appreciate me giving out her address to just anyone, especially not a wizard, so don't ask for it."
"But she knows she has to live in that house with your uncle for the wards to work! I anchored the wards in the garden. She cannot just leave!" Well anchoring the wards in the garden might be an exaggeration, as they had collapsed within a week, but Harry did not need to know that.
"The wards based on blood? The wards that would have been negated by Riddle taking my blood at the end of the tournament? The same wards that are no longer required because the man is now dead?" Harry asked slyly.
"Ah … now that is the crux of the matter and is the topic I have come to talk to you about," Albus decided to take the segue. He could deal with the matter of Petunia Dursley later. It would not take too long to get the muggle back where she belonged. "We need to make a plan for the new year."
"Oh really. I must say I am rather looking forward to a year where I will just be able to study without the worrying threat of a Dark Lord hanging over my head. In fact, if I'm lucky everyone will have forgotten about me in favour of Hermione," he grinned happily. "I can't wait!"
"I am afraid that happy circumstance might not come to pass just yet," the Headmaster said dolefully.
"But I saw him die sir," Harry said innocently. "I know Hermione should not have cast the killing curse, and I am surprised that we haven't seen anything in the papers about that, but still I can't say that I am sorry that he is gone."
"Oh Harry, my boy if only things were that simple. There is more to the matter than you know, I won't explain it to you just yet but this year, I will be taking you and Hermione for some private lessons."
"Oh no, don't worry about me sir," Harry shook his head. "I think I will be having enough changes with my new lessons."
"I would not worry about those until I had my OWL results if I were you, Harry."
"Right you are," Harry agreed amiably.
"Now in the meantime, I need to bring you up to speed. I had thought you would have asked me about the prophecy sooner."
"The prophecy, sir?"
"Did you never wonder why Voldemort," Dumbledore said the name with such gravitas that the lights dimmed, "came after your family? Hmmm. Why he hunted them specifically?"
"Ah, because he was a psychopathic killer sir? Is another reason really required?"
"Hmmm, if only it was that simple. No, you see a prophecy was made … "
From there Dumbledore revealed to, a Harry that appeared stunned by the revelation, the exact wording of the prophecy and how it meant that Harry would need to face Voldemort in one final battle, in which one of them was sure to die. Thus, they could be certain that Voldemort would return. Albus was relieved that the boy was taking the news so well, he did not argue, just nodded along thoughtfully. With the way Harry had been responding he might not have to use that potion after all.
"So those extra lessons that you were talking about, they are to start to help me be able to battle Riddle then? You'll show me spells I can use to defeat Riddle?"
"Not as such Harry, you see there is a great deal of groundwork to do first. The first thing you need is to truly understand your opponent."
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're getting at, sir."
"To be able to defeat your opponent you need to be able to predict what move he is going to make, when and why. That is what we will be focusing on. Now I trust that I do not need to tell you to keep the contents of our discussion a secret, do I?"
"Of course not," Harry smiled.
"Though I do think an exemption might be made for Miss Granger and perhaps the youngest Mr Weasley."
"If I can talk to Ron and Hermione, then surely I can also mention it to Percival and Sirius."
"I do not think that's wise Harry," Albus Dumbledore said sadly. "Sirius is too impulsive. We don't know how he might react, possibly running off all over the countryside. It would be terrible if an accident happened to him. And Percival … I know you believe that he is a dear friend of yours," again there was the patented look of disappointment and disapproval, "however I would caution against trusting too deeply someone you have known for such a short period of time. I do not want to see you burnt with the betrayal I can see coming."
Harry just managed to stifle a derisive snort, instead saying, "I will be careful Professor."
"Good, good. Well, I had best be returning to the school. Apparently, I need to arrange a new location for the Order of the Phoenix to meet tonight. If you would be so kind, perhaps you could have a word to Sirius about that before our next meeting? It would be much more convenient if we could meet here. Not to mention you would get to see your friends."
"Bye Professor," Harry said, making no commitment.
-o0o-
Harry was helping himself to a plate of sandwiches, proudly made by Kreacher, when the others emerged from their various locations around the house.
"What did the barmy old bearded one want?" Sirius asked, sitting down at the table, and reaching for the plate.
"Just to tell me about the prophecy and that it's alright to share the details with Ron and Hermione, but not you or Percival."
"That's odd," Percival mused.
"Ah but you see," Harry said in an exaggerated conspiratorial fashion. "Sirius here is highly unreliable and might just run off willy nilly, once he hears it, leading to him having a tragic accident and you … well you are apparently on the verge of betraying me, so it is best if I don't trust you."
Remus snorted, "It seems like he does not want you to tell anyone, who might have the means to help you."
"Did he say what he thought the prophecy meant?" Sirius asked curiously.
"Oh yes, apparently Riddle and I must face each other in an epic duel which will decide the fate of Wizard-kind everywhere. Only one of us will survive. It'll be legendary." He took a large bite of his sandwich. "Oh, and he is going to give Hermione and I private lessons this year, not to improve my skills or teach me spells so that I can actually defeat Riddle but so that I can know my opponent."
"I don't like the idea of you being alone with him," Sirius frowned.
"Neither do I," Harry admitted.
-o0o-
With a groan of frustration, she slammed the door behind her. Some absolutely wretched sneak had spoken to her parents. When she found out who it was, she was going to Crucio them into tomorrow. Tossing her body face down on the bed Hermione, kicked her legs in a vain attempt at relieving her irritation. Thumping the pillow violently for good measure. The action soon made her hot and breathless and she desisted.
Who would have done such a thing? Not only did they know about the visit to the Ministry, but also about giving Harry the cleansing potion, the incidents that led to the words on her forehead and how she had stunned Percival and locked him in the cupboard. They had even raised some questions over her grades and told them that she would not be a Prefect in the coming year. Who dared?!
It had to be someone who knew where she lived, which immediately ruled out Ron, Harry and most of the Order. Only the teachers and Molly and Arthur Weasley were left. Would the Weasleys have done it? Possibly if they thought they were helping in some fashion, though it was unlikely that Ron had told them everything that went on at school. Harry certainly would not have mentioned his little trip to the hospital wing as he knew that was a complete accident. That left the teachers. The most likely being McGonagall and Flitwick. McGonagall was too much in Dumbledore' pocket and so seemed unlikely. Filius Flitwick, that horrid little goblin.
Hermione rolled over and stared at the plain white ceiling. The worst of it was that there was not much she could do about it right now. Dumbledore had not taught her the Obliviate spell yet or she would have made them forget everything they had been told. She made a note to look it up the moment that she was back at school. Damn whoever had stolen her books!
She had effectively been grounded for the holidays. Her parents were insisting that she go to work with them every day. Even going so far as to give her filing jobs. They had said she would get paid for the work she did, which could be useful, but it was still so demeaning. Not to mention they had mentioned taking her to see a psychologist. Argh!
At this rate it did not seem like they would allow her to go to Grimmauld place at all this summer. The situation was completely intolerable. They had even mentioned the possibility of them moving her to Beauxbatons. She would have to write to Professor Dumbledore. Sending a letter via the local Post Office it would take at least a week to reach Hogwarts which was far too long. That would not do. No, no, no. Her parent's surgery was in the town centre, she could easily catch a bus or train from there to Diagon Alley where the magical post office was. The letter would reach the headmaster by evening the same day. Yes. Relieved Hermione sat up and retrieved parchment and quill. Quickly writing her letter. Feeling that the situation was now in hand she allowed herself to fall asleep, a smile on her lips.
-o0o-
"When is Sirius getting here?" Molly called out across the crowd in her lounge room. "We need to talk to him about moving the meetings back to his place. It's far too crowded here."
There were several vague grunts and shrugs.
"Well, when he does, tell him to send Harry straight upstairs. He can sleep over in Ron's room tonight. I haven't gotten round to cleaning out the twin's room yet." She bustled out of the room to grab another tray of snacks.
"Hello mum." A redhead called from the doorway.
"Bill!"
"Mum, I'd like you to meet someone." At those magic words Mrs Weasley cleared a path from one side of the room to the other, unceremoniously pushing anyone who did not move fast enough out of the way.
"'Ello," came a heavily accented voice from Bill's side. "Eet iz a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Weasley."
Mrs Weasley paused, eyes travelling up and down the girl's slender frame, "Lovely to meet you, I'm sure. Where did you meet Bill?"
"We met at Gringotts, Bill 'as been 'elping me with my Eenglish," the blonde added helpfully.
"Yes, I'm sure he should have mentioned it," Mrs Weasley frowned. "Now is not a good time to have strangers in the house Bill," she chided her eldest.
"Fleur isn't a stranger," Bill protested. "She was one of the Triwizard champions. She knows Harry. Dumbledore said to bring her along to the meeting. Not to mention she … well she is very important to me. I told you about her last summer, remember?"
Still frowning, Mrs Weasley stepped back, allowing the pair to cross the threshold, "Well I suppose if Professor Dumbledore said so. Now Bill, how long are you back for this time?"
"My transfer has been made permanent this time, mum."
"Oh, I'll have to clean out your old room. Now maybe Charlie can be convinced to come home," she sounded hopeful.
"If that's alright mum, I was hoping we could stay here just until we can find our own place."
Mrs Weasley's head snapped to look at her son, before she said sternly, "You can't stay in the same room! Miss…"
"Delacour."
"Hmm, Miss Delacour can sleep in with Ginny!" She bustled over to offer Hestia a cup of tea.
"Sorry Fleur, I don't know why…"
Fleur gently squeezed Bill's arm, "It's alright, she iz just worried and wants what iz best for 'er boy."
He wrapped an arm around her and led her to the couch. Then he moved to stand behind her.
Dumbledore smoothly stepped out of the floo into the Burrow's kitchen. He followed the noise to where all of his most loyal were waiting for him. There was a new face that he identified as Bill's Veela girlfriend. Hopefully she would prove to be a useful asset.
Severus was the last to arrive, stepping out of the floo smartly and moving to stand behind the couch in a shadowy corner. Glancing around the room, he noted that Sirius had once again been excluded, though he could not fathom the purpose behind the move. Not that it mattered, he would tell the Dog what he needed to know.
"Professor," a quiet voice interrupted Severus' thoughts.
"Mr Weasley," he dipped his head. "Ms Delacour."
"I note that a certain ex-fugitive is not currently in attendance."
"Hmmm."
"Gringotts was hoping to pass a message on to him this evening. In all honesty I was expecting the meeting to be at …" He stumbled over the words.
"Ah yes, I believe that the mutt has changed the wards to protect his godson."
"Do you still have access?" Severus dipped his chin. "Would you mind passing this on?" Bill held out a letter.
"Certainly," the envelope disappeared into the folds of Severus' robes.
"I feel …" the words of Albus Dumbledore filtered over their conversation, "that we must now discuss the rather pressing matter of Sirius Black."
"Whatever do you mean Albus?" Molly Weasley asked.
"Recently I have become concerned about his … stability," he said gravely.
"Oh," Molly fluttered.
"It seems that he has withdrawn his support from the Order. He has changed the wards on, on, on …" Albus stalled, and the words would not come, "without advising me. It seems out of character."
"Ah Albus," Arthur interrupted a trifle hesitantly. "I believe that it might be my fault. After Bill updated the wards and we returned to the Burrow, Sirius mentioned he was going to update the wards at … well, at his place. I was supposed to let you know, but it seems to have slipped my mind."
"That does not change the fact that he should not have changed his wards at all without my approval…" he stuttered, "it was the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix!"
"Seriously Albus, the man has the right to update the wards on his own home," Minerva commented. "Besides with Harry living there now, I have no doubt Sirius wanted to ensure his godson was properly protected."
"That's another thing, Sirius is not the boy's guardian. Harry must be returned to his aunt's."
"Let it be, Albus," Minerva huffed. "Guardianship of Harry has not laid with his aunt for nearly a year now. With Seraphina heading back to the US it was transferred to Sirius a fortnight ago after he had proved his case to the Wizengamot. The school received notification of the change."
"But I was not called to…"
"Forgive my saying so Dumbledore," Kingsley Shacklebolt rumbled, "But as you are no longer a sitting member of the Wizengamot, they don't need to advise you of such meetings."
"There is still the matter of him ignoring meetings."
"Did you tell him, Dumbledore?" Kinglsey Shacklebolt challenged. "We spoke at the Wizengamot last week and were debating when and where the next meeting of the Order was. He thought nothing had been arranged and was waiting to hear from you."
"Yes," Albus Dumbledore jumped on the statement. "I told him myself …"
"When?"
"What?"
"When did you tell him Dumbledore?"
"What does that have to do with it?"
"Simply if I spoke to him before you did then of course he would not have known. When did you tell him?" Shacklebolt asked implacably.
"Well …"
"Albus!" McGonagall pressed.
"This afternoon."
"Really! What a ridiculous notion that Sirius, who has two teenage boys living with him, was unable to drop everything and suddenly appear at a meeting that you advised him of at the last minute," the Transfiguration teacher said sarcastically.
"The point, Minerva, is that Sirius should be here. There are no excuses, he could have easily bought the boys with him," Molly said huffily.
"Perhaps he did not want to take advantage of your generosity without asking, Molly. You already have your hands full. Or perhaps they already had plans. Gods know I would have if I had not been advised a week in advance. An afternoon is simply not enough notice, especially if you were intending on the meeting being at his house. That's just plain rude."
"He could simply have opened the wards for us," Molly protested.
"It's not as easy as that mum," Bill protested.
"How would you know Bill?!"
"I heard about it at work."
"What protections are there?" Dumbledore asked hurriedly. If he knew what wards besides the Fidelius were in place, perhaps he could find some means to work around them.
"Telling you that would break my contract Albus," Bill stated firmly.
"I can always find you work elsewhere my boy," Albus said insistently.
"My loss of magic might make that a little difficult, unless you have connections in the muggle world."
"You've lost your magic?" Molly screeched in horror.
"No mum," Bill said, allowing his exasperation to bleed into his voice. "I have signed a magical contract with Gringotts as one of the conditions of my employment. If I break it losing my magic is the mostly likely outcome."
"Why would you risk your magic that way? Didn't we teach you to be more careful than that?" she gasped.
"Well, it was better than the other option which was losing my life."
"I told you not to work for those dirty, horrid creatures, but did you listen to me? No! I'm just your mother! What would I know? Now look at what you have done! Hanging onto your magic by a thread."
"Mum! It's hardly by a thread. My magic is not at risk as long as I don't break my contract. Given that it's mostly just security clauses that prevent me from divulging customers secrets, I don't feel that it's unreasonable or restrictive. You wouldn't want the tellers being able to discuss your financial matters with anyone else, would you? They've all signed the same contracts."
"That's enough Molly!" Arthur said, placing his hand on his wife's forearm. "Bill is a grown man and quite capable of making his own decisions."
"But he was just out of school when…"
"And I am sure that the Goblins did not have him on the same contract when he was on his apprenticeship," he glanced at his son requesting confirmation.
"No, the restrictions were much less stringent, and I was never placed in a position where I would become aware of any customer's details. The different contracts reflect the level of responsibility. To put your mind at ease mum, I did have a lawyer go through the contract before I signed it."
Molly's complaints devolved into a barely audible grumbling about wasting money on lawyers. Bill shook his head, it seemed as if she would never be happy. He just hoped that if the Goblins ever found out about her rant, that they would not take their response to her prejudice out on him.
"If the fanciful aspersions to the mutt's character have finished perhaps, we could continue to more important matters?" Severus said.
"I would not have thought that you would defend Sirius," Dumbledore said in surprise.
"While I agree the man is a useless excuse for a wizard there is no doubting his loyalty to his godson," he replied dourly.
"What have you heard from the other Death Eaters?" Dumbledore asked, changing the topic with a barely concealed smirk.
"As I have previously stated, no. After the incident in the Ministry, I have been revealed to be a spy as such I have heard nothing. No one has contacted me, nor are they likely to."
"What is the use of having a spy who cannot spy?" someone huffed from the other side of the room.
"What use indeed? Perhaps my skills in potion making might be somewhat useful in keeping you all alive," Severus rebutted the whispered complaints that he heard from more than that one corner of the room.
"I believe you are underestimating your skills, Severus. In fact, I must insist that you at least try to reintegrate yourself. We depend on you, Severus," Dumbledore wheedled.
"And who will you get your potions from when I am deceased?"
"Come, come, you surely exaggerate. A quiet word in the right ear and your situation will be as it was before."
"I don't understand," Hestia asked. "Why are we talking about infiltrating the Death Eaters, surely, they'll disband now. I was actually quite surprised that you called a meeting Albus."
Severus leant back so that his smirk was hidden in the shadows.
"You know something," Bill accused quietly.
"Mmm, as do you, Mr Weasley," Snape replied quietly.
"Not so much," the red head shrugged, "just that there is something going on. Truth be told Fleur and I were happy to return to Egypt. The Goblins stopped me from going back, due to some project that they want me to assist on. They said it could take some time to sort out, hence the transfer."
"Well, no doubt you will hear more about it soon enough."
"Is Riddle really gone?"
"Use your brain Mr Weasley," Snape hissed derisively in an undertone.
"Ah, I did wonder," the eldest of the Weasley siblings looked thoughtful.
"Do not think too hard on it," Severus advised. "I am sure you will be told all the details in the near future. Do they still teach Occlumency at Gringotts?"
"Yes, it's part of every apprenticeship. You don't graduate unless you have reached their desired level of proficiency."
They turned their attention back to where Dumbledore was holding court. It was clear that more than a few people were dissatisfied with Dumbledore's explanation that they needed to keep an extra close eye on the Death Eaters now. Now that their Lord was gone, Dumbledore stated that they were likely to act out in anger attacking the Wizarding population and so the Order had to maintain their vigilance. Severus thought that it was rather lucky that Alastor Moody was not there.
"But wha' happened to the body?" Mundungus Fletcher asked, and silence descended over the group, all eyes turned to the Headmaster.
"Ah," Dumbledore stalled.
"There was no body," Hestia supplied. "I arrived just as the spell was cast. He disappeared into a black cloud, his robes and wand falling to the floor. Bellatrix summoned the wand before she fled."
"You said that there was no body last time either Albus," Minerva pointed out. "If that is the case, can we be sure that he is truly gone?"
"Of course, he is gone. The girl hit him with a Killing curse," Molly protested.
"Also, the same as last time," Minerva pointed out.
"Ah," Dumbledore cut across the brewing argument to say solemnly, throwing a warning glare that threatened dire retribution at Severus, "I believe that the difference is that it was the rebound of the Killing curse that disembodied him the last time, thus the diluted effect. This time it was cast on him directly." His eyes twinkled at the answering nods from around the room, ignoring the fact that his Deputy was dissatisfied, he would deal with her later.
"Well then, I believe that is all for this evening," he dismissed them. "I trust Harry's Occlumency lesson went well, Severus."
"The boy is a dunderhead Albus. He does not practice. You say that he has been given books on mind preparation, but if he has then he must not have read them at all!" Severus complained, hoping that Harry would forgive his lies.
"I will have another word to him and remind him how important it is." Albus turned to the Weasley's "I am sorry we descended on you at the last moment Molly. I'm sure that Sirius will have come to his senses in time for the next meeting."
"Not to worry Albus," Molly said happily. "When can we expect Harry to come and visit?"
"I was hoping that you would be willing to host the boy, Molly. A week at his aunt's should be enough, so hopefully he will be here in time for the OWL results. I had been hoping that Sirius would allow us all to return to …" he stumbled again, "but it seems I was sadly mistaken. I had already advised Miss Granger that she would be safe there this summer. Given her new fame she will certainly be a target for Death Eaters seeking retribution. That is without mentioning her association with Harry."
"Oh," Molly gasped. "The poor girl I didn't even think! You know Albus, she would be more than welcome to stay here."
"Of course, should we not have access to," again he stuttered over the word, and the twinkle dimmed from his eyes in annoyance, "well if we need to, I will suggest this as a suitable alternative."
"It should be safe enough; Bill did a marvellous job when he reinforced the wards."
"So, I see, though I do wish you had asked for my advice," he chided, he could not find even the smallest chink in the wards now, and they had been extended to cover the entire property from the road to the orchard.
"To be honest, I was looking forward to using my own kitchen again Albus. I mean the one at … Sirius'," she substituted, "was good in a pinch, I suppose, but with that blasted elf always hanging around, I couldn't really set things out the way I wanted to."
"Tonight's supper was delightful," he graced her with a small smile.
"Now how about a cup of tea, before you go?"
-o0o-
"Mumma," a little voice whispered into the dark waking his mother from her doze.
"Yes, loveling," she tried to keep the tremor of fear from her voice. She needed to be strong. Someone would surely come and find them. She could not figure out how they got here, they had visited the café in town, and gone to the park so that Michael could have a play before they went home. The next thing she remembered was waking up in this dark, cold room, lying on the floor, her son clutched to her chest.
"Where are we Mumma?"
"I don't know," she whispered, and the thought terrified her.
"Can we go home soon? I don't like it here. It's too cold."
"I don't like it here either. Hopefully the police will find us soon."
"Do you mean like Mr Cooper?"
"Yes, just like Mr Cooper," she gently stroked the child's hair from his face.
"I like Mr Cooper, he's funny."
"Yes, he is," the boy's mother agreed.
"Can we go now?"
"I wish we could, but they have locked the door," she whispered, hating the sound of the words even as they rolled off her tongue. It was the first thing she had tried when she had woken the first time and Michael was still asleep. At least they had not been restrained.
"Mr Cooper will break the door down won't he."
"Yes, I am sure he will," she tightened her arms hugging her son close, praying that the words proved true. It had been two days since they had last seen anyone. Shortly after she had woken up a small ratty man had bought them a bowl of soup and some water each. The water in the cups kept refiling but there had not been anymore food.
"I'm hungry Mummy," her son complained. Really, he had been so strong, so very brave.
"Me too, loveling."
"Do you think the mean man will give us some food soon?"
"I don't know," she admitted.
There was a scrape outside the door. The boy huddled down into her lap, tucking his head into her shoulder. The light was blinding as the door swung open on rusty hinges, and she turned her head away.
"Hmpf, well you aren't much to look at!"
She glanced up in surprise at the very definitely female voice. A trim figure in a long dress was silhouetted against the light.
"Let me see him."
"Mummy!" her boy cried as the woman reached out and grabbed his arm pulling him to his feet to examine him.
"Please don't hurt him!" she begged.
The blue eyes of the woman who had just entered the room, narrowed in distaste, "I do not intend to touch him anymore than necessary!"
"Why are you holding us here?"
"I have been informed that you are required."
"Please just let us go! There is nothing we can do for you. There is no one to pay a ransom. Please, let my son go," she begged on her knees.
The cold eyes just continued staring, then the lady turned and walked back to the door.
"Please! Let us go!" the tears streamed down her face, as she hauled herself to her feet and stumbled to the door though the woman moved gracefully through it.
"I suggest you and your son eat, it may be the last you have for a while," the door shut with a clang. A small patch of light illuminated a tray on the ground by the wall.