All for one

by midnightsstar9212

For you

13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12

"So, we will spend the rest of the lesson working on your essays that are to be submitted to me before you return home for the holidays tomorrow," Harry explained. "Yes, Mr Rosier?"

"I didn't raise my hand, Professor," the seventh-year Slytherin replied with a frown.

"Oh, I assumed that because you were talking when I was, you had something more important to say."

"No, Professor."

"Good, now get on with it."

He found he needed to take a firm hand with some of the older students.

For some reason, they often did not feel the need to pay attention and thought they knew best. More than once, Harry had caught them off guard and had watched as they'd fumbled given tasks.

Some were good enough to do well on the NEWTS, whilst others were not as adept as they believed to be.

Those who could be considered the latter were the very same who thought themselves above the lessons bestowed upon them.

Other professors had mentioned they shared the same problem with the same students in their own classes throughout the three months he'd been here.

"Mr Montague, I would suggest you put your wand away. If you cast a single spell, I will personally ensure Mr Pringle has an able assistant for the rest of the year," Harry warned, catching sight of the boy pointing his wand towards a Hufflepuff student.

Montague shot him a challenging glare, and Harry met it until the young man looked away.

He was as unpleasant as any other Montague he'd met.

He liked to bully and belittle students from other houses, but only those who couldn't defend themselves.

In many ways, he reminded Harry of Draco, only without such a powerful father to back him up.

Much to his relief, not all of the Slytherins were like him, nor did they follow him as they did Draco during his own time.

There were those who were similar to Darryl Montague, but thankfully only a few.

"That will be all for today," Harry announced as the end of the lesson arrived. "Remember, on my desk tomorrow, or you will receive an automatic 'T'. No excuses."

The students grumbled amongst themselves as they packed up their things and took their leave of the room, giving Harry a few minutes before his second-year Slytherin and Gryffindors would arrive: Another problematic group in some ways.

The most glaring one was the first to enter the classroom, and she greeted Harry with a sweet smile.

"Hello, Professor Jameson."

"Miss Black, please take your seat. We will begin when the others arrive."

Bellatrix did so, and Harry busied himself with some parchment on his desk.

He'd been surprised to see her and had done his utmost to be professional despite their turbulent past. The Bellatrix he knew was dead, but Harry still harboured a deep loathing of the woman.

Nonetheless, he wouldn't punish the young girl before him, not when she hadn't joined the Dark Lord or murdered his godfather yet.

Still, he was not entirely comfortable being alone with Bellatrix, especially when her gaze barely left him.

He wouldn't deny she was a talented witch, perhaps the very best in the school, even at her young age.

She learned quickly, had an unmatched aptitude for practical magic, and had the intelligence to complement it.

It was no wonder she went on to become Voldemort's most valued and dangerous follower.

Harry frowned as his thoughts drifted from Bellatrix to the Dark Lord and then to the werewolves.

They had been in Canada for three months now, and fortunately, he'd provided them with suitable accommodation during their transformations. As an extra precaution, the land he'd placed them on was hundreds of miles from civilisation.

It was perfect, and he was in the process of purchasing it so they could begin to farm.

Once a week, he would visit to bring them food and anything else they needed.

They'd already built temporary homes, which would be replaced by permanent dwellings once the land was in his possession.

"Mr Weasley, come here," Harry sighed as the young redhead entered the classroom sporting a familiar mischievous grin.

"What is it, Professor?" Arthur asked innocently.

Harry held out an expectant hand.

"Give it to me."

"Give what to you, Professor?"

His tone was laced with feigned confusion, and Harry released a deep sigh.

With a nod, he leaned forward.

"Do I really have to dangle you upside down to empty your pockets?"

Arthur's eyes widened in horror, and he shook his head.

"Fine," he huffed, placing a box of dungbombs in Harry's waiting hand. "How did you know?"

Harry's lips quirked in amusement.

He knew Arthur was up to something the very same way he'd learned the habits of Fred and George. It was clear to see where the twins had inherited their own penchant for trouble. They wore the same grin, had that same twinkle in their eyes, and the very same air of unbelievable innocence about them as their father.

"Call it intuition," Harry replied. "Now take your seat, and if I get even a whiff of anything unpleasant or any other disruption, I will ensure you spend your entire Christmas break completing additional assignments. Understood?"

Arthur nodded and made his way to his seat.

Harry fought the urge to grin as his eyes drifted over the rest of the class.

"As this is your last lesson with me before your holiday, I thought we would do something a little more fun," he announced, eliciting a bout of excited whispering amongst the students. "You have done well this term, and we are ahead of where we need to be, so I thought I would teach you some festive charms. Now, who wants to learn how to do this?"

With a flourish of his wand, several coloured orbs shot from the end and filled the room, lighting it with an array of golds, greens, and reds.

"As benign as these appear, they can also be manipulated to serve a defensive purpose, as such."

With a flick of his wand, one of the red balls shot across the room and tore the closed door from the frame, crumbling it into a pile of splinters.

"No, I will not be teaching you how to do that today," Harry said firmly, "but it is something you can look forward to in the years to come."

The students stared at him in awe, and even when he swept the desks aside to make space for them to work, he had to herd them into the centre of the room.

"Who wants to go first" he asked, chuckling as every hand was raised in response.

(Break)

"So, this is it then?" Jenny asked. "You won't be working with Moody anymore."

Amelia shrugged.

"We will still work together occasionally, but we won't be permanent partners. He has a new mentee."

"And what about you?"

"I've not been assigned anyone. Grimm seems to think I'll do well enough on my own."

Jenny hummed.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know," Amelia murmured. "Maybe I'm just not ready to do it without Alastor because it's all I've known for these past few years. He seems to think I'm capable."

"You're more than capable," Jenny assured her. "When was the last time you relied on him for something?"

"I can't remember," Amelia answered with a frown.

"Then that should tell you all you need to know."

Amelia nodded, though she wasn't convinced.

It would be strange working without Moody, but it was something she would need to get used to.

He was moving on, and she would have to do the same.

"What about Jameson?" Jenny pressed, taking a sip of her coffee.

"What about him?"

Jenny raised an eyebrow at her.

"You've not seen him?"

Amelia shook her head.

"Not since I visited him before the start of term. He made it clear that any association we had was over. He's teaching at Hogwarts and left Thomas in charge of the restaurant."

"That's a shame," Jenny commented. "You seemed to have fun when he was around."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that he made you laugh."

"He got on my nerves," Amelia retorted.

Jenny grinned amusedly.

"Anyway, I should head home. I have an early start in the morning," Amelia announced, not wanting to dwell on Harry Jameson.

He had indeed made it clear that there was nothing else unresolved after they'd arrested Greyback. Not that Amelia had anticipated much, but to be cut off entirely as though they were strangers had come as quite a surprise.

She wasn't hurt by it, but she wouldn't deny it had irked her.

As far as she could remember, she'd not done anything to warrant being cast aside by him, but it wasn't as though they'd become fast friends either.

If anything, she was confused about why he'd been so dismissive of what they'd endured together in the forest.

It was as though he wished to forget the entire escapade, and for him, that was fine.

Given the life he'd lived, it was likely just one of many such experiences he'd had, but for Amelia, it had been first and remained a unique encounter.

"Dinner tomorrow night?" Jenny asked as both put their coats on.

Winter had truly set in now and a layer of ice coated the streets outside.

"That sounds good," Amelia agreed. "Where?"

"I already made reservations at Jameson's restaurant," Jenny informed her with a grin. "Eight pm. Don't be late."

Amelia scowled at the smirking woman as she left the café.

She didn't want to go to Jameson's restaurant, even if he wouldn't be there.

Nonetheless, she wouldn't turn down the opportunity for a good meal. Eating sandwiches and food on the go had again grown dull and repetitive.

Still, Jenny could have picked somewhere else, and Amelia sighed as she followed her friend.

She'd done it on purpose.

Of that, Amelia had no doubt.

(Break)

"According to my list, it appears we have eleven students remaining in the castle over the Christmas holidays," Albus informed the staff members. "Four from Hufflepuff, two from Ravenclaw, two from Gryffindor, and three from Slytherin."

"I will be here," Minerva assured him.

Albus nodded appreciatively.

"As will I," Filius added.

"And me," Hagrid declared.

"Thank you all," Albus said gratefully.

It was much easier to keep an eye on the students when other professors were available.

During the summer, it was not an issue as all were required to vacate the castle, but the school remained open throughout the duration of the Christmas break.

"Professor Jameson?" Albus pressed.

He shook his head.

"Apologies, but I have a few things to attend to during the second week," he explained. "I am available for the first half of the break."

"It would be most appreciated," Albus replied. "You've managed to build quite the rapport with many, and without Horace here, I would have you around to watch Messrs Montague and Rosier."

"Did they give any reason why they will not be returning home, Horace?"

"Both of their parents are going away on a business trip," the Potions Master replied. "I will remind them that they are expected to be on their best behaviour."

"Please do so," Albus urged. "Any further incidents, as we have seen from both already, will not be tolerated."

"I will reiterate that to both," Horace assured him.

"Thank you," Albus replied. "If there is nothing else, then we will end the meeting. The express will depart at one pm tomorrow, and I would appreciate all of you being available to see the students off."

Murmuring their agreement, each left the office, and the headmaster returned to his desk to check the progress made by the students.

It took but a glance over the Defence Against the Dark Arts grades to see that he'd made the right choice in appointing Harry Jameson to the post.

The student's grades reflected the good things he'd heard from them as they went about their day.

Professor Jameson was proving to be as popular as he was competent, and Albus hoped he would be able to convince the man to retain the post the following year should he continue as he'd begun.

He was, however, still something of an enigma.

Harry was polite and courteous to the other Professors, but he tended to keep himself to himself outside of his teaching hours.

Albus had hoped he'd open up, but it didn't seem he was interested in doing so.

Filius had met with him a few times, as had Minerva, though neither had much to say about those occasions.

Perhaps Albus would make a point to meet with him once the students were back from their Christmas break.

It was a shame to see Harry isolate himself so, especially for one so young who should not be as introverted as he was.

(Break)

It wasn't often Amelia wore her hair down, nor did she tend to put so much effort into styling it in such elaborate waves that it fell loosely around her face. Whilst working, she usually kept it in a simple ponytail or at least in another way without danger of it blocking her vision.

"Well, I must say, you've made an effort," Edgar commented amusedly. "Any reason?"

"I'm going to dinner at the restaurant you took me to."

That was the excuse she had used for herself to spend that little extra time ensuring she was looking her best. It was flimsy, but she was sticking to it.

"Oh, a date then," Edgar said with a teasing smile.

"Not a date," Amelia denied. "I'm meeting Jenny."

Edgar frowned but didn't press the matter further.

"Well, have fun," he encouraged. "Will you be late?"

"No, I'll be back early enough."

Edgar nodded and left Amelia in the hallway, where she checked her appearance for a final time.

She'd opted to wear a form-fitting dark green dress.

It was one of only a few cut in such an impractical way that she owned, and her wand was stashed within easy reach in a holster she'd stitched near one of the slits that ended at the thigh.

With a nod to her reflection, she picked up her purse from the sideboard and apparated to Diagon Alley.

It wasn't far to walk to the restaurant, and she reached it after a few moments of navigating her way through the evening revellers, most already worse for wear from drink and whatever other substances they could ingest.

Not being on duty, Amelia wouldn't trouble herself with such a frivolous matter. It wasn't as though it would prove to be worth her time.

Even on duty, none would tell her where they obtained their vices, so she entered the restaurant to find it as busy as it had been the first time she had eaten there.

She spotted Jenny sitting at one of the smaller tables not far from one of the large windows, and though the woman waved her over, Amelia's gaze drifted across the length and breadth of the room.

She recognised many of the people dining as prominent members of the community but didn't spot the one person she'd been looking for.

"He's not here," Jenny informed her with a knowing grin. "I already asked."

"I wasn't looking for him," Amelia denied.

"Of course not," Jenny snorted. "Is that why you made an extra effort tonight?"

Amelia narrowed her eyes at her friend.

"I haven't…"

Jenny cut her off with a pointed stare.

"I've known you since you joined up and I've never seen you go to so much effort, not even for the men you have dated. Why won't you admit you like him?"

"Because I don't."

Jenny hummed as she picked up the menu.

"Keep telling yourself that."

Amelia rolled her eyes at the woman.

"He's annoying, smug, self-centred, and stopped talking to me for no reason."

"How much of that is true?"

Amelia deflated and shook her head.

"Fine, he's not self-centred, but the rest of it I meant."

"If he's all of those things, why do you care?" Jenny asked, grinning victoriously.

"I don't," Amelia denied as she picked up her own menu.

Jenny didn't believe her, but Amelia felt no need to justify herself to her friend. It wasn't as though she was lying. She didn't like Jameson; she just didn't appreciate being cast aside as she had been.

She felt used, and in truth, she didn't know why she felt such a way.

"What are you having then?" she asked.

"I think I'll try the scallops," Jenny decided. "They sound good."

Amelia nodded as she perused her own menu.

She didn't feel particularly hungry, but she knew how difficult it could be to get a reservation here.

Her thoughts on Harry Jameson were not so good, but she wouldn't deny the man had something of a flare for business amongst his other apparent talents.

"Merlin, what is going on out there?" Jenny gasped, pulling Amelia from her thoughts.

She turned to look where her friend was pointing, only for her eyes to widen at the sight of a brawl taking place outside the restaurant.

Two of her colleagues were already there but were unable to break through the large crowd which had formed around the fighting.

It had yet to turn ugly, but in her experience, it was only a matter of time before wands were drawn, and it did.

Releasing a deep sigh, Amelia stood.

"I'll be back in a minute," she assured Jenny, who nodded, and Amelia made her way outside to intervene before the inevitable happened.

"Alright, that's enough!" she snapped, drawing her wand and separating the scrapping men with a simple banishing hex. "Now, all of you, on your way unless you want to spend a night in the cells."

The street fell oddly silent as around the two dozen gathered people turned to look at her, the two Aurors with them, whom Amelia realised were not familiar.

It was as though everything slowed as they raised their wands as one, and although Amelia managed to conjure a powerful shield, it collapsed under the onslaught of stunning spells.

Her rebuttal fell two of the attackers, but Amelia knew her efforts were in vain.

She managed to block another trio of spells before a screaming filled her ears, and the world darkened around her.

(Break)

"Get out of the way!" Alastor barked as he forced himself through the crowd.

He'd been readying himself for bed when he'd received the message from Grimm, who was talking to the shaken Jenny outside Jameson's restaurant.

His expression flitted between concern and anger, and as Alastor approached, it was the latter that coursed through his veins.

"What the bloody hell happened?" he demanded.

"They took her," Jenny croaked. "She went out to break up a fight, and they all turned on her. A portkey. They took her away using a portkey."

Alastor ground his teeth.

"How many?"

"I don't know," Jenny answered. "Too many."

Alastor shook his head as he shared a knowing look with his superior, who gestured for Alastor to follow.

"Bones took two of them out before they got her," Grimm murmured. "Not that they're in any fit state to talk. Both are dead, Moody."

"What did she get them with?"

Grimm shrugged.

"I don't know, but the fact both have curse wounds in the front and out through the back means she wasn't fannying about."

"Good girl," Alastor muttered. "This was planned."

"It was," Grimm agreed. "Calculated. They must've been watching her closely."

"Aye," Moody grumbled. "That means whoever did this is connected."

"And if they're connected, we won't find her easily," Grimm pointed out. "If they're on the Wizengamot or have close enough connections, they'll block the warrants under the guise of retaining their privacy. This stinks, Moody, but we need to be careful."

Alastor nodded his agreement, rifling through the several names of who could be involved as they came to mind.

Amelia being taken was one thing, but for someone to be able to accomplish it in such a way only made it more worrying.

This wasn't good, and short of forcing his way into every prominent home he could find in what would be a fruitless endeavour, he was at a loss as to what he could do.

Alastor could not remember a time he'd felt so helpless, and the sentiment was shared by Grimm.

"Off the record, Moody, what do we do?"

"Off the record?"

Grimm nodded.

"She's one of ours, time is limited, and I want her found no matter what it takes."

"Aye, me too," Alastor murmured, his eyes drifting towards the restaurant, a glimmer of hope making itself known. "Off the record, you say?"

"Whatever it takes, Moody."

"Then I might know someone who can help us."

(Break)

With the students having left in the early afternoon, Albus felt as though he could truly relax for the first time since they'd arrived back at the beginning of September.

He didn't dislike teaching. On the contrary, he'd never found anything else he'd been so passionate about. However, being in charge of a castle full of curious children and young adults was not the easiest of responsibilities to bear.

Nonetheless, he wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world.

If choosing between Hogwarts and retaining his other various positions was presented to him, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be in the very office he was seated in now, amongst the portraits of his predecessors and Fawkes.

"Who can that be?" he asked tiredly as an alert sounded from the fireplace.

He hoped that a parent didn't already have need of him.

The students would all be home now, after all, but as he allowed the visitor access, it wasn't the visage of a parent that greeted him, but the grave expression of Alastor Moody.

"Alastor, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Are you available, Albus?" Moody requested.

"Of course."

Alastor said nothing else, and he stepped through the fireplace only a moment later with another man Albus recognised as the Head of the Auror Department.

"Shall I assume that this isn't a social call?"

"Aye, it isn't," Alastor sighed. "Just a short while ago, Amelia Bones was abducted from Knockturn Alley. We are in no doubt that this was a calculated incident, and you know what that means. There's not many that would dare take and Auror."

Albus stood, his own expression becoming troubled.

"Do you have any idea who it is?"

Alastor shook his head.

"No, and you know the resistance we will face if we take the official channels."

"Indeed," Albus acknowledged. "What can I do for you, Alastor?"

"Actually, it is Jameson we need to speak to. Is he here?"

"I expect he will be in his office. Come, we can't afford to waste time."

This was a most unexpected and unwelcome development. Given what Harry had achieved in the Forbidden Forest, Albus was not surprised Alastor would request his assistance.

Albus would not pretend to know the entire extent of the man's skill, but if he could help find Amelia Bones, that was all that mattered.

It didn't take someone of a particularly high intellect to deduce the danger she was in.

Once whoever had taken her got what they wanted, she would no longer be of any use to them, and it was exceedingly unlikely she would simply be released.

No, her fate was all but sealed unless she was found quickly.

With that in mind, the headmaster's pace quickened towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, and he hoped beyond hope that Harry Jameson would indeed be able to help them.

(Break)

Harry shook his head as he made some notes on one of the essays provided to him by one of the Slytherin students. If the work Montague provided were such a low quality when it came to his NEWTs, he would be fortunate to earn himself a Dreadful.

How he'd been approved to study Defence Against the Dark Arts beyond OWL level was a mystery.

This essay was worse than the work submitted by some second years.

Adding it to the pile he'd already given feedback on, Harry leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was nearing ten pm, and he'd been working all day.

However, the sudden sound of rushing footsteps outside the classroom meant that it was unlikely to be over, and he hoped that the students who had opted to remain in the castle for Christmas hadn't already caused trouble.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore greeted him. "I'm pleased to see you're still here."

Harry stood as Alastor Moody entered behind him, and both men wore troubled expressions, the latter uncharacteristically alarmed.

"What's happened?" Harry asked.

"They've taken her!" Moody growled.

"Taken who?"

"Bones! She was kidnapped from Knockturn Alley by a large group of wizards. We know it was meticulously planned."

"But you don't know who's behind it."

"Exactly."

Harry released a deep breath and nodded.

"Take me to where it happened."

(Break)

Albus watched as Jameson worked.

His attention to detail was phenomenal, and he picked up on the minutest of details.

He began by investigating where Amelia was taken from and traced several paths across the length and breadth of Knockturn Alley, casting a variety of spells as he muttered under his breath.

Albus would have taken a similar approach, but it was interesting to see how Harry operated.

What the headmaster did learn was that the man had an acute propensity for detecting magical traces and following them accurately.

"She was being watched closely for days, maybe even weeks," he declared as he approached Albus and Alastor. "They've been here, the Ministry, Diagon Alley, and prominently, Wandsworth."

"That's where her family home is," Alastor explained. "How could they skulk around without being noticed."

"Because they're good at it," Harry murmured thoughtfully as he looked up and down the alleyway. "They're professionals, and professionals don't come cheap. Someone wanted her, and I don't think for anything good."

"Can you find her?" Alastor asked.

Jameson nodded.

"I can, but finding her is the easy part. It is getting her out of wherever they've taken her that'll be hard," he added with a deep frown marring his features.

"Well, what's going on?" Auror Grimm demanded as he arrived.

"Jameson here thinks he can find Bones."

"Alright, what are you waiting for?" Grimm asked.

"Assurances," Harry replied. "No one is to know of my involvement, and I want immunity from anything I may have to do to get her. I will do my best to operate within the law, but I expect I will have to bend it more than once."

"Done," Grimm agreed without hesitation. "Whatever it takes, Jameson."

Harry nodded.

"I'll be back in thirty-six hours at most. Have St Mungo's ready just in case they're needed."

With that, he vanished from Knockturn Alley, and Albus turned towards Alastor and Auror Grimm.

"Why do I get the feeling I just made a terrible error?" the latter asked.

"No," Alastor disagreed. "You haven't."

Although Albus did not like the idea of his Defence Against the Dark Arts professor going rogue on a mission he had no business being a part of, his respect for the man increased exponentially.

What Harry was doing would undoubtedly be dangerous, and yet, he hadn't hesitated to throw himself in harm's way to help Amelia Bones in her hour of need.

"I agree with Alastor," Albus offered. "If anyone can find her and bring her back alive, it is Harry Jameson."

Already he'd proven himself with what he'd done in the Forbidden Forest, and though Albus still lacked the details of what exactly took place, he had every faith that Harry would be successful.

He just hoped he found Amelia before it was too late.

"Well, our own investigation will continue," Grimm declared. "Moody, I want you on this as a priority. Anything you find, bring it to me. I want her found, and I will not rely on just one man to do it. Go on, get on with it, Moody."

"Aye," Alastor growled.

"I am at your disposal, Alastor," Albus offered. "If there is anything I can assist you with, you know where to find me."

Moody nodded gratefully before he apparated away.

"This Jameson," Grimm spoke. "What's his chances?"

"He'll find her," Albus said confidently. "My only concern is the state she will be in when he does."

"Mine too," Grimm murmured worriedly. "Mine too."

(Break)

Although he knew he could not control the actions of others, Harry couldn't help but feel partly responsible for what had happened to Amelia.

He'd expected her to be inundated with attention after Greyback's arrest, but not what had happened this evening.

Perhaps he should have anticipated the backlash, but he hadn't. Not such an extreme response, at least.

His nostrils flared as he finished gathering, and he apparated away from his home.

Wherever Amelia was would be dangerous, and he would not rush in so foolishly. He was no longer the same seventeen-year-old who had largely relied on luck and somehow fumbled his way to winning a war.

Now, he was a grown man, and though he'd vowed not to involve himself in such matters, this one was different.

He knew there was only one place to begin, and as he made his towards the dingy bar Thomas had told him about the night he'd learned Greyback was here, he made another vow, one that would see him tear the place down brick by brick, if necessary, to get Amelia Bones back.

(Break)

She couldn't move, and panic set in as she tried to remember how she found herself bound in a seated position with a blindfold tied tightly over her eyes. Amelia struggled against the ropes holding her, to no avail, and her breathing became laboured.

Try as she might to alleviate the pressure around her wrists, it was hopeless.

After several moments of silence, she managed to control her breathing and calm her turbulent thoughts.

She was not in a favourable position, tied up, without her wand, and had no idea where she was.

The only saving grace was that there had been witnesses to her abduction, and Amelia knew her colleagues would be looking for her.

It was a small comfort but one she clung to as she heard the sound of approaching footsteps descending a wooden, creaky staircase.

She was in a basement or a cellar.

A door opened, and Amelia remained still, listening to the heavy breathing of a man who was evidently checking on her.

After a moment, he left, closing the door behind him before climbing the stairs and leaving her alone once more.

From above, she heard muttered voices, but they were incoherent. They were male voices, though with how muted they were, she could not detect any accents nor any familiarity.

Musty.

Wherever she was smelled musty with a hint of fruitiness, but it wasn't damp.

A wine cellar, perhaps?

Amelia didn't know, but her observations meant little when she was so helpless to do anything to remedy the situation she found herself in.

She could only wait and hope she was found.

She'd always despised feeling helpless, but what was worse were the thoughts that began to plague her.

What did these men intend to do to her?

She fell still again as the sound of the stairs echoed around her, and two steps of footsteps approached this time.

Once more, the door opened, and Amelia felt a shiver run down her spine as the two men spoke.

"Do we wake her?"

"What for?"

"Maybe we can get the information from her."

"No," the other man said firmly. "Our instructions are that she is to be left until he comes. He wants to speak with her personally."

"When will that be?"

"Whenever he gets here. I'm going to meet with our employer tomorrow evening. She is not to be harmed unless she gives you a reason. Got it?"

"Got it," the first man sighed.

"Oh, and just in case you get any ideas, the others will be here. I will not have a repeat of what happened to the last one."

Amelia could almost feel the grin of the first man.

"Can you really blame me? She was a looker, and the redhead isn't so bad either."

Amelia flinched as a dull thud echoed around the room, and one of the men gasped for air.

"If you touch this one, I will personally cut your bollocks off and feed them to you. Now get out."

The other man fled the room, his retreating footsteps scrambling up the stairs as he did so, but it was the ones that followed that concerned Amelia.

They were slower, purposeful, and drawing closer to her.

"I know you're awake," the man murmured. "I suggest you cooperate with us. Crucio!"

Amelia only felt the effects of the curse for a few seconds, but the pain was enough for her to draw blood from her bottom lip to prevent herself from screaming out.

"If you think that was bad, just wait until he does it to you. It makes mine feel like a tickle."

He chuckled, and Amelia caught a whiff of Firewhiskey on his breath, but he stepped back and left the room, closing the door gently behind before ascending the staircase.

When he was gone, Amelia exhaled a ragged breath.

She didn't know who the man was referring to, but she knew she did not wish to meet him, and for the first time in a very long time, Amelia Bones felt scared for her life.

"Moody," she whispered.

Moody would be looking for her, and that thought alone gave her the comfort she needed to somewhat calm her thoughts once more.