Chapter 34: I think that's suspicious

"Give it back, kid."

Almaric made a show of considering it, then crossed his arms, absolutely uninterested in even showing where he'd hidden the wand he'd appropriated earlier on.

"No."

For emphasis, he also moved the mini-bludger around, as if he might let it go anytime.

Willow Coffey took a step back, squinting. Her ear was still ringing, and the incident had happened almost an hour earlier, but she wasn't about to forget it any time soon: getting half pummeled by an experimental bludger and then having her wand nicked by a second year – third year? they all looked tiny to her, now that she was out of school – who'd proceeded to slip back inside the haberdashery and leave her with no other option than following the kid around when his family stepped out for lunch in the village was not her how her usual day went.

They were now – the Blacks, because of course that kid's family were the Blacks, and Willow herself – sitting and playing around the small park by the restaurant they'd eaten at, and the witch had disinterestedly sat on the same bench where the kid had settled, as if it was the most random choice in the history of Oulwike and they'd never seen each other before.

If anything, Willow considered that a show of goodwill – and proof that she'd given up on wiping his memories: no one would be stupid enough to try and get at the kid in the middle of his relatives, especially with adults watching.

The Black matriarch might be old these days, but Willow still didn't think she should try her luck. The woman had married into the Black family, to begin with, and it wasn't like Willow was a fine duelist or anything of the kind. Besides, the whole point of wiping the kid's mind was to remain undetected, and starting a fight in the middle of the park was not the best idea for that.

Willow took a deep breath and forced a smile upon her face:

"Kid, I need that wand, and I already told you I didn't intend to hurt the shopkeeper with it. You didn't tell your... grandmother, I guess? And you didn't hail the patroller when she stopped by the restaurant's terrasse, either, so you're not planning on telling on me: you probably realize you don't have much to tell, to begin with. Now what?"

The boy raised an eyebrow at her and slumped comfortably against the bench.

"What were you looking at in Marnie's basement, then?"

The witch sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Why do you care, seriously?"

Silver eyes glared at her judgementally:

"If you're a liar and something happens to the shopkeeper and her daughter, it'll be my fault."

"...Pretty sure that'd be mine. Nevertheless, do I look like someone who could hurt other people?"

The boy scoffed.

"Yeah, because we all go around being visibly honest about our hobbies! Lots of Death Eaters out there, and yet no one knows their names, do they?"

Willow had to keep herself from jumping at the accusation and start gesturing wildly: the two older women looking over the children weren't paying attention for now, but if she started screaming...

"Wait a minute, I'm not letting you say something like that! I'm not... I wouldn't... Look, I didn't hurt you, did I? Do you think a Death Eater would have let you get away that easily, if you'd really seen something important? No, and you don't get to accuse me of things... of..."

She wasn't even a pureblood, or someone from an old family, what could she want to do with that bunch, anyway? Even if they weren't out murdering people, she'd have nothing to gain from getting involved. She had, what, at least three muggles in her close family tree, and yes, she'd grown up around Hogsmeade, but no one cared enough about the surname Coffey to ascertain how far back their magical line went.

Nothing like the Blacks, that was for certain.

Willow threw a nasty look around the park, at the many – certainly pureblooded, definitely rich and likely to personally know a blood extremist – children from that old and noble family, out and about, enjoying the summer sun as if nothing could happen to them because of a stray Death Eater.

People like the Blacks weren't the targets – they were more likely to be the perpetrators.

Willow swallowed something bitter and glared at the boy:

"I'm not the one who's the most suspicious of us two, kid."

He gave her a flat look for that – and, fair, he was, what, twelve? Thirteen? And she'd been the one lurking around a victim's house, but she wouldn't admit that.

"Right. And you still didn't answer my question, miss."

Before Willow could say anything – she wasn't going to tell a boy she'd barely met, but she'd have to find something to reveal, even if it was a lie – a girl's voice sounded up from behind her:

"So that's what you were doing outside the shop, Almaric? Getting your nose in other people's business, as usual... And can you put that bludger away, for Circe's sake!?"

Willow started at the intrusion, just as a girl – about the same age as the boy, black hair and green eyes – took a seat on the bench – on the witch's other side. Another boy – typical Blacks looks, that one – walked by, trying to snatch the offending ball-of-anger-and-pain out of his... brother? Yeah, sounded like it – out of his brother's hand.

"Almaric" slid further towards the end of the bench, evading the other boy's attempt.

"What are you kids..."

The girl answered flatly – and Willow wasn't quite certain who was the target, herself or Almaric:

"He's our triplet, miss. After a while, we're bound to come around and check on him. Especially when he ducks out of the shop and comes back looking all innocent."

The other boy nodded.

"Ric might think he can hide things from everyone, but I'm sneakier and more discreet than him, and Hyades is more observant than either of us. Also, we've known him since we were born."

Almaric squinted at his brother and sister – and apparently wasn't willing to be distracted from his questions, because he eventually glared back at Willow:

"Yeah, well. She was lurking by the shop, poking at the basement's window, and apparently she'd taken a potion to go unnoticed before that, and I think that's suspicious. When I pointed it out, she also threatened to erase my memories, so I stole her wand before I came back in."

Almaric was too busy glaring at Willow to realize the looks his siblings were giving him, but the girl certainly seemed to think her brother should check his brain sometime soon, and the other boy clearly thought he was missing some common sense as well.

Personally, Willow felt this wasn't how a pre-teen should react when faced with suspicious people, but what did she know? Maybe that was how kids were, these days.

Wait, no, she'd been one barely a decade ago, and she'd never have gone and confronted someone who looked up to no good alone, and she definitely wouldn't have thought to get away with their wand only to go on with her day as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Maybe she should point it out, actually:

"Kid, I don't get you. What would you have done if I hadn't followed you around, maybe I'd still have done whatever you think I was going to do? No, more importantly, why don't you call your grandmother, or whatever the Black matriarch is to you, and tell her about me? Or, any other adult"

The witch wasn't quite certain why she was giving advice to a boy who obviously thought she should be in jail – but somehow not enough to actually make that happen? – but at this point she felt it was some sort of civic duty, because that kid was going to get into trouble if he always acted like that. Not everyone was as nice as Willow.

Or, to be accurate, most people who behaved suspiciously and could thus get Almaric's attention were a lot more unpleasant than Willow thought herself to be. Yes, she'd been entertaining the idea of a quick obliviate on the boy, but she wouldn't have actually hurt him. Just, you know, "no one was there", who cared if you forgot a handful of minutes in your entire life?

Some people would have taken the boy away, maybe to make sure he hadn't seen more, that he didn't know too much, that he couldn't tell anyone about it. They might have forced him to answer, or rummaged around his mind, or wiped several days of memories, just in case.

Some, worse than the rest of them, might want to "play", like they'd done with the muggle postman who used to come around Oulwike a couple of years ago.

...It wasn't like Willow had such big secrets that she'd consider hurting a kid – or anyone, really – past a few hexes, but some people didn't think the same.

Weirdly enough, it was the girl – Hyades, right? – who sighed and answered:

"...We're not used to having the choice of telling other people, so that idiot got into the habit of handling everything himself, at least when Dad wasn't around. Which, well."

Willow waited for a follow-up, but it didn't come. Instead, Almaric scoffed.

"Dad's not here. She was being suspicious. I did what I had to."

His brother gave him a side-look.

"...You said that already."

"And it's still the truth, so?"

Then the black-haired boy finally looked at Willow – not just at a stranger sitting next to his brother, but at the witch herself, someone who'd got caught up in the three kids' focus – and bit his lips for a second. He looked much less confidant than Almaric, she realized, and perhaps less at ease with himself than Hyades.

"I... Miss. Ric's concerns aren't stupid, and we could tell our great-grandmother what happened, or go and look for the patroller on duty. Or you could just... tell us what you were doing."

...Discreet, that was the word Willow would use for the kid. Not necessarily shy or ill-at-ease with other people, but uninterested in taking too much space.

The kind of person you didn't notice, and then they'd done everything they needed to and it was much too late to get in the way, for better or for worse.

"If you're not telling an adult, what reason do I have to explain anything?"

For all that Willow wasn't a bad person, she could still get into trouble for what she'd been doing.

The boy's silver eyes slid towards his brother after a moment.

"We do have your wand. And if you had wanted to try anything, it's too late now."

Oh. Willow could only gulp as discreetly as possible.

Now that was something worthy of the name Black. The boy might be quiet and unassuming, but...

And of course, he was right. Willow closed her eyes for a moment – took a deep breath, almost scratched her neck passing her closed hand under her hair – and tried to find a way out of this.

Next to her, Hyades gave Antares a look – he nodded quickly and sat between Almaric and the witch, in the little space left before the bench got really crowded. Amaric scooted over, too.

That should do, then. If there was anything to find, Ares would find it.

When the witch opened her eyes again, she only blinked at the addition.

"Alright... I... I heard about what happened to Damian Guthrie the other day, and I wanted... He and the shopkeeper have two children, and the last one is barely a baby. I don't know them, but I didn't want... If something happened to their mother, the kids would be left alone."

Hyades was almost certain the woman was telling the truth, but she also had ears and none of the words the older witch had just uttered actually told them anything about what she'd really been doing by the haberdashery shop. Besides, if she'd really only been looking, why in Rowena Ravenclaw's name would she have tried to obliviate Almaric? Generally, her brother had good instincts – Hyades just often disagreed with how he decided to act on those.

After a pause, the woman continued on:

"The way they made it sound, the Death Eater who attacked Guthrie wanted something and didn't get it. I thought maybe... I don't know, maybe Guthrie left whatever it was at home, and I know the basement is both the shop's backroom and a small office..."

As the witch trailed off, something needled at Hyades' focus – but it was Almaric who interrupted:

"And you, what? Decided to have a look for yourself?"

The woman flushed and stood up, not looking at any of them anymore.

"I don't know what I was going to do, alright? Maybe I... If I could find what it was, I might have taken it away and hid it, just in case Death Eaters came back for it. Or, no. I'd have sent it anonymously to the Auror Office, so that they'd know and protect the shopkeeper and her kids. Perhaps... Well, I wasn't there yet, so. I didn't think that far ahead."

Almaric huffed an "Obviously!" that sounded a bit too much like he suspected the woman of making it up as she went.

Which she was probably doing, so Hyades wouldn't call him rude later, for once.

Antares had his hand on Ric's, their sister could bet her wand on it – he'd gotten what he was looking for and it wasn't necessary to try and pry any longer. It was the only reason Almaric would ever back down while aware that something fishy was still afoot.

Well, then. She should play along, too.

"...If you don't know what to do, maybe you should just talk about it with someone from the DMLE. You can't just... break into someone's basement and hope you'll stumble upon something a Death Eater might have wanted. And, the house's wards, what did you intend to do about those?"

The older witch hesitated, eyeing Almaric and Antares for a moment, a bit surprised by Ric's behavior – but she glanced back at Hyades and sighed.

"Everyone gots wards these days, more than when everything is peaceful. There are... a lot... of ways to protect a place, that's true, but at the same time... People like me and the Guthries, we don't necessarily have access to centuries-old wards or the complicated stuff. In the end, we all pay for a few of the same wards, or we cast the easy stuff ourselves. Someone who knows how they work can figure out how to get through most wards, given the time and enough hints..."

"The crook you mentioned back when I caught you lurking, you mean?"

A wince flittered across the older witch's face – she hadn't expected Almaric to remember that, apparently, and as Hyades and Antares hadn't been there then... – and she looked away.

"Caught that, didn't you?"

Hyades rolled her eyes.

"So you were going to ask a thief how to break into their house? That's just..."

Antares and her shared a look, unwilling to say it out loud – Ric didn't have that compulsion:

"Stupid."

The woman closed her eyes for a moment and didn't argue back. She looked so genuinely disappointed in herself that Hyades almost – almost – forgot that no, she was most likely lying about that too. A performance so convincing you'd easily look past the flimsy excuses.

Unfortunately, the triplets knew a few people who could pull an even better show than this woman.

"...You're right, it was. Look, kid, I'm sorry about earlier, I shouldn't have threatened you. And obviously this was all a ridiculous loss of time and I should just give it up, so, could you give my wand back? I do need it for more than just lurking by basement windows..."

Ric pinched his lips, displeased, but a quick look at Antares – a shrug and nothing more, but for the three of them it was enough – and he relented, producing the older's witch wand from his robes.

The woman took it with a look of deep relief – that, at least, was genuine – and left with barely a look back. She definitely hadn't expected being cornered so when she'd gotten up in the morning.

Almaric gritted his teeth and gave the retreating woman a mean look.

"She's totally going back to the shop, and not to apologize to Marnie Guthrie."

Hyades nodded pensively.

"Maybe not today, but you're right. I don't know what she's looking for, but no one in their right mind comes up with 'let's break in to protect this random person I've never talked to before from a murderer who might or might not try to do the same' as a plan..."

Antares quietly shook his right hand to banish away the tingling in his nails.

"What did you get from her, Ares?"

Their brother shrugged, wincing slightly: he'd gotten undernail magical tattoos only a month before, with Diamondra and Monja's help, and apparently it had been so unpleasant an experience that he still felt some sharp poking under his nails whenever he did activate their magic.

It explained why most people didn't go to all that trouble, even if you could gain a number of capabilities from the right tattoos – also, you needed a specific flower to make the appropriate potion, and some were easier to find or brew than others. Monja had burning calendula undernail tattoos on his forefingers and thumbs, which allowed him to touch fire or extremely hot objects without getting burned – only with those fingers, of course.

The flower of seven eyes under a veil of night on Ares' right hand let him see scenes and images of the most prominent theme in a person's mind when he touched them. It wasn't all-powerful, you couldn't browse or force your way through an occlumency barrier like with legilimency, but it did let you know, for example, if someone you'd just met was actively hiding something from you.

Dad had allowed it because, well. He was potentially getting exonerated very soon and a lot of people might come around with hidden motives, or simply say they were alright with it and still want to bully the triplets or Harry.

Also, there had been that mess with the basilisk during their first year of school, and part of it, at least, might have been avoided if someone had been able to get less-confusing intel out of Dobby.

"I couldn't touch for very long before she'd notice, but I think I saw someone giving her money, and also I'm pretty sure the crook is Mundungus?"

Almaric and Hyades shared a look.

"Of course it's Dung... But, I guess, it could be worse, it's not like he's ever been violent."

Ric rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, just criminally dishonest with a strong tendency to take what's not his."

Hyades opened her mouth to retort, then realized she had no reason to: she and Ric agreed there.

The young witch shook her head.

"So... Are we thinking she'd being paid for that break-in?"

Ares hesitated, staring at his fingers.

"...I guess."

Almaric looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

"Usually, we'd tell Dad, Akari or Uncle Perce."

Which was both true and a problem, because none of them were present. Mom and the others couldn't pass the message, either, and the guys from the Old Tower were likely living their own lives, too – not a single one of them knew the triplets, to boot.

However, the reason why Ric looked so pissed was entirely different, if Hyades had to guess.

"I mean, we could tell Sirius?"

"Thanks, Antares, that's what I was going to say. Dad's not here, but Sirius is an Auror trainee and still, or maybe, hmm, already, in the Order of the Phoenix, right? If there's anyone we should tell..."

Almaric still looked mulish – he really hadn't liked that time Sirius had told him he didn't trust any of the kids yet, uh? – but Hyades knew he'd relent anyway. Her brother might be stubborn and a smidge prideful, but he also cared about doing the right thing a lot – true, he'd rather be the one doing it, but if that wasn't possible, he would tell someone else.

Someone, however, spoke up right then, and the triplets suddenly remembered that they were far from alone and the other people around weren't random at all:

"Great, a good idea. Doesn't have to be Sirius, though; I saw the local patroller turn a corner not so long ago, I'm sure we could catch up to her."

Hyades and Almaric jumped off the bench. Antares was just as surprised, but less violently so.

Just behind them, his back against the tree that shadowed the bench, was Harfang, the oldest boy in their motley collection of half-siblings – one of the few, Hyades remembered, who had been caught by surprise by the news about Azkaban.

He looked vaguely amused – and a bit exasperated, maybe, and if he'd heard even half of their discussion, or worse, the situation with the older witch...

Ric spluttered:

"What... What are you doing here?! And how long..."

The older boy crossed his arms and gave them a long look.

"Melgranny, I mean, our great-grandmother asked me to check on you guys, because you were talking with a stranger, and it didn't look like small talk, either."

Antares blinked at that, taken by surprise.

"...Oh."

"So, are we telling an adult about the suspicious witch you three have gotten tangled with, or not?"

Hyades instinctively gave Ric a side-look – and she wasn't alone, Ares did the same too.

Almaric sighed, loudly – barely not rolling his eyes.

"Fine. Let's do that..."