Send My Regards

Chapter Four

Angelina hadn't slept all night. It was as if her mind was connected to Marcus's and she could feel his fear and stress rush through her blood as well. She lay in her bed and could smell the scent of his cologne lingering on the very pillow she hugged tight against her chest; crying into the softness and praying with all her might he was ok. Somehow, she knew he was suffering one way or another at that moment but she could do nothing about it.

Don't owl me, Marcus had said.

Angelina remained obedient to his demands. But it was like a plague consuming her! She had to know if he was ok!

She swung her legs over the bed with one last determined sniffle and quickly dressed. If she couldn't owl Marcus, then she supposed she'd have to march right over to his flat; William or no. A bit of spying never hurt anyone...

***

"What is this place?" Marcus asked as he glanced around and continued to tug at his binds.

"We," said Nott, "are in the sub levels of our new headquarters. A basement of a basement, if you will."

Marcus didn't understand.

"Surely you've read the papers," Lucius said. "We are at the height of a pureblood revolution."

"So I've heard," Marcus replied flatly. "But that means jack shit to me."

"Well, with all the...precautions...being taken, we, too, have done whatever necessary to keep our plans going according to schedule. One of our main sources of interest was, of course, the Ministry."

"But you can't," Marcus said. "They know all about you. Aren't you supposed to be in Azkaban?"

Nott chuckled and shook his head incredulously. "Where have you been living, young Flint? We are Azkaban."

Marcus furrowed his eyebrows. Were things really this fucked up? "So what does this have to do with me?"

"Death Eaters have been paving the way to a pureblood future for generations. However, we need to ensure that our most valuable leaders remain immortal."

"What?"

"Haven't you noticed a pattern amongst the most loyal of the Dark Lord's followers? He hand-picked us for our genes as well as our versatility," William said; his eyes lighting up. "You've read the papers, Marcus. You know their names by now; all very powerful in their own ways. Malfoy, Nott, Lestrange; they all are the Dark Lord's most influential leaders and most importantly: they all have heirs. We are a monarchy, Marcus, to carry on the Dark Lord's work and ensure a pureblood future."

Marcus furrowed his eyebrows. He recognized the names, but one struck an odd chord. "Lestrange? That insane bitch? She doesn't have an heir..."

Lucius calmly raised an eyebrow. Marcus was clearly more naïve than he anticipated. If Bellatrix had heard the disrespect pooling from his mouth, she'd kill him. He was beginning to lose faith in Marcus more than he had before. William always was a rash thinker; it must be a family gene. He glared at him and clearly invited him to carry on. By all means, it was becoming amusing.

"Bellatrix is with child as we speak," William said and his eyes warned his son not to push his luck.

Marcus sighed. "I'm sure this would be fascinating if I fucking cared but you still haven't even answered my question. What does this have to do with me? I don't want to be a Death Eater."

"Marcus," William said calmly and approached his chair. "I already told you that you don't have a choice. If we are a monarchy then that makes you, simply put, a prince."

The words seemed to bounce right off Marcus. He stared at them in shock. Were they really this mental? "You're fucking out of your mind! Untie me. I don't accept." He glared at his father. "And how dare you call me your heir you drunken bastard! Why don't you find another whore to fuck and make a new heir? Then you can leave them too and keep up the tradition, yeah? I'd--!"

"Crucio!" William shouted in rage; aiming his wand directly at Marcus's chest and sending his chair sliding back several feet. He vented his anger through the curse as it coursed its way through his son's body and made him scream. William's hand shook. No one, NO ONE, spoke to him like that.

When he finally lowered his weapon and Marcus's cries ceased, the sound of Nott's faint chuckling brought him back to reality. "Temper temper, Flint," Nott said and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. "It'd be a shame to bring us here to celebrate your heir only to have you kill him."

Marcus panted in his seat; head hung in shame. He had not anticipated that attack and trembled as the aftershocks of the curse slowly ebbed from his body. Faintly, he could hear the three Death Eaters around him talking but it was only clouded noise as his blood rushed and pounded in his ears. While Nott and William argued, Lucius calmly knelt before Marcus and watched his weary eyes slowly drift up to meet his own.

"Pity," Lucius said. "I always thought you had more...potential. Draco will be most disappointed. He would be pleased to see you now. Especially after that little Forbidden Forest show at Hogwarts." Nott and William were listening to the interrogation now. Lucius's voice was barely a whisper. "Yes. Draco told me all about it: How you've gone soft in your intentions. Soft for a mudblood-loving Gryffindor, am I correct?"

Marcus went pale and clutched the armrests so hard that he felt them bend. "You stay away from her," he growled.

Again, Lucius was clearly amused but kept his sly and calm demeanor. "Or you'll what?"

Breathing through his teeth, Marcus began shaking with rage. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you all!!"

There was a pause before Lucius stood with a satisfied smirk. "And that is exactly what makes you an heir."

"What's this news?" William asked suddenly, looking curiously between the two. "My son has a female possession? Excellent. She will bear the next generation of my blood."

"No!" Marcus shouted. "Leave her out of this! I swear if you touch her I'll rip your sodding face off!"

This time, William knelt in front of Marcus as Lucius had. He watched his son's face contort in anxiety and anger and felt great satisfaction in watching him fume like a rabid dog; to have such control over his emotions. "Perhaps we'll bring her here," he said in a raspy voice. "And she'll carry on the bloodline with me instead."

The armrests of Marcus's chair snapped off like mere twigs and in an instant, he swung the wooden pieces into his father's jaw. William toppled over as Marcus completely broke free of his chair; sending splinters flying everywhere. Fear, adrenalin, and anger gave him the speed and strength of ten wizards and before the Death Eaters could gather what had happened, he had taken advantage of the chaos and managed to grab his father's wand.

"Stay the fuck back!" Marcus screamed. "I swear to Merlin I will fucking kill you all right now!"

William pressed his fist against his bleeding lip and laughed softly. Soon, Nott joined in the mockery. Lucius seemed to be the only one who remained collected; cane neatly poised in front of him as his blue eyes burned a hole through Marcus.

"What are you going to do, son?" William laughed. "Hex us?"

Nott reached for his wand but Marcus quickly caught site and aimed his wand at him in return. "Don't fucking move!" he said; his voice shaking. "I told you all that my answer is 'no'. I'm not your fucking heir or your prince or even your fucking son!" His murderous eyes fell upon William who was now slowly standing. "I want nothing to do with you! I never did! Go find one of your other illegitimate children and fuck up their lives for once! You know they're out there. And if you ever come near Angelina, I will kill you with my bare hands. I promise you this."

Marcus's tone and eyes did not lie. The four of them remained in a frozen circle as if the threat needed time to sink in. Lucius, once again, seemed unfazed. He took a step forward despite the shaking wand now pointed at his chest. "Marcus, you're throwing away a lifetime of security and power. The Dark Lord will bring you glory and protection for you and your precious little Angelina."

"No fucking thank you," Marcus growled and backed away to the door. "She's more protected with me than she'll ever be with you sods. Let that be a genuine warning to you." He realized the room had a magical perimeter around it; he couldn't apparate. Marcus reached back with his free hand and fumbled with the entryway; wand still raised. He'd have to run. Before anyone could move a muscle, he threw open the door and darted away.

William was on him in an instant; lunging forward and grabbing the back of his hood. Marcus stumbled only for a second before swiftly turning and punching his father square in the face. When he fell back, he revealed Nott behind him with his wand raised and ready. In a panic, both shouted a disarming spell at the same time but the magic collided and only created a thick ball of smoke between them. Marcus took full advantage of the cloud cover and ran for the door that led to the first chamber. Luckily, the two Death Eaters guarding the room were startled by the sudden entry and before they could raise their wands, Marcus had made it out into the tunnel. He could hear the commotion of scrambling Death Eaters behind him and a hex zinged by his head. He ducked and ran with all his might but the tunnel was dark and he had to frantically feel along the walls to guide himself out. His heart was in his throat as he breathlessly ran up the inclining tunnel. Yet, there was other breathing too; the breathing of angry Death Eaters right on his trail. A dim light ahead signified the cellar entry and Marcus picked up speed. To his surprise, however, when he reached the door he no longer heard labored panting or footsteps behind him. No time to ponder it. He threw open the cellar door and skidded to a halt to avoid colliding with a woman. For a moment, their eyes locked in surprise and fear until it registered in his mind that this was no ordinary pub patron. It was the same beggar lady he ran into before and there was no mistaking: she had been waiting for him.

"Follow me," she whispered urgently. "I know why you are here. Please, trust me. Just take my hand and run."

Marcus was still breathless. He glanced over his shoulder at the cellar door before allowing the beggar woman to take his hand and quickly lead him out of the inn. He didn't know why he followed her; something about it just seemed right and he trusted her. It wasn't like he had many other options at the time anyway.

They ran through the streets of Knockturn Alley, past the bums and the alleys full of garbage and mangy dogs, past the apothecary and a series of boarded up shops.

Marcus stared at the beggar woman curiously. "Who the hell are you?"

"Shh," she said. "Ask questions later. For now we must get you to safety."

They ran behind an abandoned building and disappeared.

***

Angelina had walked five laps around Marcus's block by the time she concluded that there was no one home. She pretended to be an innocent morning stroller but stared at Marcus's windows as she passed for any sign of a shadow or light. Nothing. The neighbors had noticed Angelina's presence and found it a bit suspicious, especially since she had been there all morning. But she didn't care. She had to make sure Marcus was ok and since she couldn't owl him and there seemed to be no one home in his flat, she saw no harm in going upstairs and taking a closer look. As long as she remained hidden, she'd be fine.

Angelina entered Marcus's building and climbed the stairs to his floor. His flat was always unlocked and she was no stranger to barging in so she gently turned the knob and pushed his door open as silently as she could. It groaned slightly on its hinges but she managed to open it enough to stick her head in and glance around. There was absolute silence. Angelina could hear her own heart beating in her ears. Even though she'd been to Flint's flat many times; something about this seemed illegal or dangerous.

"Marcus?" she whispered. When no one answered, she slid all the way into the flat and slowly closed the door behind her. If Marcus was here, he'd be so angry with her for coming but judging from the silence, there was no one home to really yell at her anyway.

Angelina wandered in and glanced around as if she had never seen his flat before and it was riddled with booby traps. Her eyes scanned the walls and ceiling and the busted black couch. A bottle of firewhiskey was on his coffee table and when she brushed her fingers against it, it was still cold.

They must have left not too long ago. But where?

Something in the dining room caught her eye and she furrowed her brow and approached it: a large hole in the wall. It looked as if it had been punched in. Angelina ran her fingers along the cracks spiraling out from the center of impact but disregarded it and quietly headed into Marcus's bedroom instead. Nothing seemed to be out of place. There was no sign of a fight or struggle. Hell, it didn't even look like he slept in his bed that night.

Despite all the signs that Marcus was alive and well, Angelina still felt uneasy. She crossed the room to his bed stand; hoping to maybe find a note indicating his whereabouts. She knew it wouldn't be there but she wished it was anyway. There was nothing but his belongings.

She sighed sadly; knowing she should leave. If William or even Marcus came back, she'd be in deep trouble. She checked her watch. The second from the last Quidditch game of the season was tonight and practice was in approximately two hours. Maybe Marcus would be at his pitch. It made the most sense, after all.

With one last hopeless glance at Flint's bed, Angelina headed out of the flat. When she opened the front door, she found herself staring wide-eyed at a man in the hall who nearly ran right into her. At first she thought it was Marcus but quickly caught her mistake and blushed. The man, however, only stared at her in amusement. Angelina hoped he didn't think she was breaking in. "Hello," she mumbled and nervously hurried away.

William stood and watched and could hardly believe his luck. He'd come to find Marcus and found his little 'harpy' instead...or so said her shirt which had the Holyhead Harpies logo on it. He smiled as he watched her flee. She had no idea who he was and passed him as a normal tenant. "Oh Angelina?" he called smoothly.

Angelina had reached the stairwell when she turned around with a puzzled expression.

"Good luck with the big game tonight. I'll be watching," William continued.

"How...did you know my name?"

William winked. "I'm a huge fan."

Angelina was still unsure of herself. She could only nod and faintly smile. "Thank you. That's...that's very kind of you. Good bye."

"Bye bye."

She trotted down the stairs and out of site. William watched her in amusement for a moment before he felt it safe to enter Marcus's flat without any suspicions. He knew his son wouldn't be there but it was quite all right. He had other ways to make him pay for the shame he brought upon his him and the other Death Eaters. William had vowed to destroy Marcus's life should he refuse to join and he always kept his promises. So first thing's first. He got out his wand and studied the tip which he ignited with a burning spell. The flame flickered harmlessly; no larger than a candle. But then, William lowered the wand to Marcus's couch and it quickly caught fire. It spread across the cotton and leather, filling the room with swirling white smoke and thick fumes. Soon, the bright flickering flames lapped at the walls and made the paint boil and bubble; growing hotter still and climbing up the ceiling and spreading across everything it touched until the room had become one towering raging inferno.

William stood back and admired his work as it consumed his son's belongings and life. When the smoke and heat became too much to bear, William smiled and with one last satisfied nod, he left the flat and calmly went on his way; passing tenants who were poking their heads out their doors to see where all the smoke was coming from. The alarm went off the second he left the building but he didn't look back. The deed was done and now another important task needed to be checked off his to-do list...and that task was heading right for the Holyhead Harpy's pitch for her big game.

***

"Who the hell are you?" Marcus asked the beggar woman as they fled. She took him deep into London; hand still tight around his wrist. No replies came from her mouth and she urgently scanned the streets for any watchers before hurrying to a stairwell that led to a deserted underground station.

Marcus was getting impatient. Here he was running from Death Eaters and the only escape route was with a crazy old lady who seemed incapable of saying her own name.

They crossed the rusty tracks dimly lit by overhead light bulbs; humming loudly as moths flickered around the heat. Several homeless had set up camp around the station and watched Marcus and the lady run from the warmth of their burning trash bins. The two ducked under a railing and ran past several platforms before jumping down onto the tracks and following them to where they curved and disappeared down a dark tunnel. Luckily, their path ended there at a trap door in the middle of the tracks which the woman threw open and urged Marcus to descend a ladder into the dark depths. He stared at her unsurely for a moment.

"Please. Go," the woman pleaded. "I'll be right behind you. It's safe."

Marcus hesitated for a moment more before cursing and climbing down the rusty ladder. It clung loudly with every step, soon joined by the woman's above him. When he reached the bottom, he tried to let his eyes adjust to the dark.

"I can't fucking see."

But then there was a door at the end of the room he stood in that creaked open with the draft and allowed a bit of yellowy light to poor in. It was enough for him to see his surroundings; a peculiar muggle control room for the underground station. Marcus stared at the dusty and dead controls like they were alien and would come to life at any moment.

The beggar woman pulled on his sleeve. "Come."

Marcus followed. They exited the door and entered a new room the size of an entire station itself! This time, however, it was not abandoned but instead inhabited by dozens of raggedy looking witches and wizards. A few were sleeping beneath their tattered blankets while others stared at Marcus as he entered the room. Somewhere at the far end of the station, a group of children could be heard laughing over a game of exploding snap. Marcus felt like he had just walked into a family's house uninvited.

The woman didn't seem to notice his nervousness and dragged him across the plethora of ragged bums behind their patches and shawls. When they had reached a less populated section of the station and the light became a bit dimmer, she finally released his arm.

"What the fuck is going on?" Marcus spat. "Where are we? And who the hell are you?"

The children nearby heard him raise his voice and had stopped their game to stare at him curiously like deer trapped in headlights. Then they began to whisper excitedly amongst themselves.

"Keep your voice down," the beggar lady whispered.

Marcus growled, "What is going on?"

"Listen to me carefully, Marcus. I know what's happening to you. I know who William is."

Marcus furrowed his eyebrows. "What? How?"

"William and I...go back." She took a deep breath. "Way back. I know what he's become and why he's come to claim you. I know about their headquarters, too. When I read the papers, I found him and followed him there. You have to listen to me, Marcus. This is going to get worse; much worse. Death Eaters have been going in and out of that cellar for weeks. You're not the only child to become a victim."

"I'm not a child."

The beggar woman paused and smiled. "Of course you're not. But...you are William's heir and the last remaining link in his genetic chain. When I read of his return, I knew he would search for you. I didn't want to believe it. I had hoped your father would stay away for good. You have grown up so beautifully without him and...and I wish I could just close my eyes and wish him away again but I couldn't stand by and watch as he destroyed everything. Not again. This was my chance; my chance to finally avenge my life and save yours--something I should have done long ago..."

She stared at Marcus sadly who was stunned into silence. He felt like this stranger just took a walk through his brain. "You're mental."

"Sadly, I was. And now, sixteen years later, something finally smacked some sense into me. I don't know what it was, but I'm grateful. I'm so sorry I didn't do this years ago."

Marcus still didn't believe her. "So why the hell are you interested in me? I could care less about William or how you know him. You don't know me. Are you some crazy Quidditch fan or something?"

"Marcus, please! I know this all sounds mad but you have to believe me! If you don't, William will kill everyone around you until you succumb to his awful plot. You've become so brilliant; I won't stand for it! I won't stand by and watch him destroy your life like he's destroyed everyone else's! I'm not asking anything of you, only that you'll take this..." She reached into her pocket and unveiled a purple pouch tied with a drawstring. Upon opening it, she pulled out a small circular medallion that looked a lot like a golden pocket watch. It dangled on a long chain. "This is an amulet. It was made by my great great grandfather and passed down to each generation. It protects the wearer against harmful spells. I want you to have it."

Now Marcus had had enough. This was all lunacy. What was he doing here? Listening to a crazy old hag make up stories about herself and magical jewelry in the middle of an abandoned muggle underground? She must be a Quidditch stalker... "Look, I don't have time for this. Who the hell are you? How do you know all of this shit about my dad? How the hell do you even know my name?"

The woman stared at Marcus with a calm sadness. There was no use lying to him anymore. She sighed and reached a decision. "My name is Victoria Nicoletta Flint." There was a pause to let the last name sink in. "I am your mother."

Marcus glared and felt his stomach rise into his throat. He felt his face become pale and clammy. This was some sort of sick joke. It had to be! He snorted at Victoria in casual disbelief. "Bullshit."

Victoria finally took off her shawl, allowing Marcus to see her entire features for the first time that night. Her hair was black as ink and fell down her shoulders like tattered satin. Marcus could finally see the frailty in her deep green eyes as she stared up at him with hope. Years of alcoholism and abuse made her appear older than she really was. Her petite and skinny frame showed sixteen years of hunger, pain, and exhaustion.

Marcus shook his head. He remembered what his mother looked like. Her cheeks and lips were always flushed; not pale and dry as they were now and her hair was short! Always short! Mother hated her hair long! And those eyes; those eyes were always empty and staring off into nothingness but now they were sharp and pleading. Marcus remembered her; remembered crying for her attention when he was very young but she barely even acknowledged his existence; drinking and drinking and drinking. How could she be so focused now? She didn't even know the meaning of the word! She was lying!

"Fuck off!" Marcus spat. "You are not my mother! How dare you even drag me down here to tell me this bullshit?!"

Tears welled in Victoria's eyes. "Marcus, you followed me here willingly. Why do you think that is? Why did you put so much trust in me so naturally? I know I'm not the callous mother you knew all your life. I know I don't look the same as I did when I foolishly left you behind. But think...think about why you came down here."

Marcus shook his head in disbelief. What the hell was going on? "My mother left without a word and became a drunken prostitute. Dragging me down here to express her concern for her own son is the last thing she'd ever do."

His mother blushed in shame. There was a tense moment of silence before the tears building in her glassy eyes overflowed and she crumbled to her knees in fits of sobs. How could she do this to her son? She had become the worst mother in the world. Trash. The lowest of the low. And now she was trying to introduce herself back into Marcus's life? It was selfish.

"Please," she sobbed. "I know I can never give back what I have taken away from you. I know I don't deserve to call myself your mother. I don't even deserve to look into your eyes which are my own and have you here granting me a moment of your life since I'm the one who's destroyed it. I'm so selfish, Marcus." She cried deeply into her hands for a moment while Marcus stood awkwardly above her. "But I read William's name in the papers and knew the time had come for me to put my damned life aside for my child; something I should have done since the day you were born. I'm sorry Marcus. I'm so sorry."

She wept and other inhabitants of the station were staring at them. Marcus swallowed. He hated being in this position. He tried to find the truth in himself; laying out in his mind how this woman could possibly be his mother or not. This was utterly ridiculous. Twenty four hours ago, he was completely content with being the last Flint alive and now it seemed his whole damn family had come back from the dead to visit. Marcus sighed. The first thing he needed to do was to get Victoria to stop crying. He knelt down in front of her. "Stop it," he said. "Look at me."

Victoria sniffled violently and hiccupped her tears back. Wiping her tears with her hands, she managed to meet Marcus's eyes. For a moment, he stared back and studied them to determine if they were, indeed, his own as she had said. Ah, there she was; crying, flushed, pitiful. This was how he remembered her. Even with the long hair, the resemblance was uncanny. Marcus sighed. Fuck. When he was through here, he made a serious mental note to find something and punch it until he felt better. Maybe Oliver Wood.

There really was only one last way to determine if this woman was his mother. "When I was seven, dad hit me because I broke your favorite vase playing Quidditch in the house. What color was the vase?"

Victoria stared wide-eyed at Marcus for a moment. The question was very random but she wracked her memory for the correct answer. "Blue."

"What was the name of my first pet owl?"

"Keitch...after the founder of your favorite Quidditch team."

"Which is?"

"The Falmouth Falcons."

"What's my favorite number?"

"One."

"Why?"

"Because you always wanted to be the first and best."

Marcus sighed. "Fuck."

Victoria was still staring at him with pleading hope. Did he believe? She trembled and the last few remaining tears in her eyes trickled down her cheek.

Marcus was studying her calmly, almost regretfully. He shook his head. "I can't believe you're still even alive."

He believed! He believed! Victoria swelled with joy and burst into tears again, jumping onto her son and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Marcus stiffened. It was the first time in his life that she had ever given him a hug. She wept against his chest, thanking him over and over again. Marcus, however, didn't share the same enthusiasm. He was furious and peeled his mother off him.

"Why the fuck did you leave?" he asked. "Why? What did I do?"

Victoria shook her head and sobbed. "Nothing! Marcus I s-swear!"

"Then why?! Father left! He wasn't going to hurt us anymore! We could have moved! We could have gotten out of that shit-hole neighborhood away from all his shit-hole friends! Hell, even grandmum said we could live with her! Why did you leave?"

"Marcus..."

"Do you have any idea what I went through? Do you know what it feels like to come home after school and find out that anyone you've ever known throughout your life is gone? You and dad left me with nothing! Even our flat was occupied by someone else! And now you just fucking show up again and expect me to just...accept that?!"

Victoria, too overcome with shame, sprung to her feet and ran away sobbing into her hands, leaving Marcus kneeling and confused. He watched her run past bewildered wizards and around a corner where she disappeared. A few people were staring at him now but he only cast them a nasty glare and they quickly went back to their business.

Staring down at his knees, Marcus saw the amulet his mother had dropped before him. He picked it up and studied it and it twirled on its chain; gleaming in the dim light. It was aged and tarnished and the words that were once engraved on the front of it were now chipped and undecipherable. It looked like a normal beat up piece of crap but Marcus clutched it in his hand anyway and stood. He went to the far end of the station where it was dark and quiet and he could think to himself. The underground was cold with a draft. A couple rats stared at Marcus with their beady eyes and scurried off when he plopped down on the ground and buried his head in his hands. The amulet dangled in his fingers.

Marcus felt an equal amount of guilt and satisfaction at yelling at his mother. She deserved every word. Worse, even! Marcus did, indeed, live with two of the worst parents alive and now they were back in his life trying to pretend like nothing happened. Despite his mother's apology, he was still bitter. Sixteen years! Sixteen years she had been gone and Marcus grew up without anyone's guidance. So why did he feel like he should be grateful his mother was back? He owed her nothing.

A sudden poke on his shoulder broke him from his concentration and he turned his head quickly. Behind him was a startled girl, no older than five, who seemed to have been waiting patiently and silently behind him ever since he sat down.

"What do you want?" Marcus snapped.

That seemed to be the only invitation the girl needed. She excitedly began to talk with a certain charming politeness. "Hi. What's your name? My name's Mary. I'm five but everyone says I'm very smart for my age. How old are you? Do you live down here now? I do. I live with my daddy and those are my friends." She pointed to where the group of children were playing; some watching them. Marcus sighed. The little girl wouldn't shut up and he could feel a headache coming on. "I don't know where my mum is. Is that lady who was crying your mum? Why did you make her cry? Will you be my friend?"

"No."

"I make friends easily. It's because I'm very nice and I share my toys. I don't have a lot but one time this lady had her baby and he was crying so I gave him my stuffed rabbit and he stopped crying and I let him keep it. Do you play games? I know a game. Want to play?" She jumped into Marcus's lap; her knee nearly missing his groin and it made him grunt in nervousness. Mary reached into the pocket of her tattered dungarees and pulled out a thin circle of string. Eagerly, she crossed it over her palm and looped it through her fingers, creating a zig-zag maze. "Here, put your finger in the middle."

Marcus rolled his eyes and did so reluctantly. It seemed to get her to stop talking. The little girl weaved her own fingers through and pulled. The loop tightened on Marcus's finger.

"Caught you!" Mary said with a smile. "Do you like ice cream? My favorite is vanilla. Daddy says that when he finds a job, he's going to buy me three whole scoops!" She continued to jabber away and weave her fingers through the string. Marcus just kept his finger in place. Mary pulled and his finger came loose. "You're free!" She giggled and looked at Marcus's face for approval. He didn't look too enthused. "You're very weird. Are you ill or something? I can show you another trick!" Mary happily crossed the string over her fingers and pulled until it looked like the Eiffel Tower. "See! That's the Eiffel Tower! It's in Paris. See, I told you I was smart for my age. I bet you didn't even know that!"

"Gee, no. You had me fooled," Marcus replied sarcastically.

Mary thought he meant it literally and grinned. She was missing her front tooth. "You should come play with us! My friends are very nice. I'll let you play with our toys!"

"Mary? Mary, are you over there?" a gentle man's voice called. Mary and Marcus turned.

"Yes!" Mary said and then looked at Marcus. "That's my daddy."

"Better hurry up and run before he finds out you're talking to strangers," Marcus suggested.

Mary didn't seem to care and she waved happily at her worried father. "This is my new friend, Daddy!"

"That's very nice, Mary. Come back now and play in the light where I can see you," her father said. His voice echoed off the abandoned walls.

Mary scrambled off Marcus's lap, again nearly causing him injury, and ran to her dad. "Bye!" She waved at Marcus. He only threw his hand up in the air pathetically and went back to staring at the amulet.

For some reason, the little girl made him feel even guiltier. He clenched the amulet in his fist and tried to crush it but it remained strong. Finally, Marcus rolled his eyes and sighed; climbing to his feet. Time was wasting. William was looking for him and he needed to find Angelina and warn her yet here he was fuming over his mother and a happy little girl named Mary who nearly crushed his genitals. If Victoria really was his mother, she could come into use more than he expected. Marcus glanced at his watch. Only an hour until Quidditch practice. This would have to be quick...

He walked back into the more populated area of the underground. Mary waved at him from her group of friends and he chose to ignore her; weaving through the sleeping bums and searching behind every pillar for his mother. When she was nowhere to be found within the station, Marcus decided he'd have to find her later. He didn't have time to play hide and seek. Through the station he went until he came upon the control room he first entered and found the ladder leading up to the tracks. He climbed and opened the hatch and nearly fell back down when something scared the daylights out of him and made him stumble.

"Fucking hell!" he gasped. Victoria was sulking on the tracks. "What are you doing? Trying to kill yourself?"

Victoria sniffled and shook her head. "These tracks have been abandoned for years."

"What are you doing up here?" Marcus climbed out of the hatch and shut the door.

Victoria looked like she wanted to answer but the tears welled up again and she began to cry. Marcus rolled his eyes.

"Cut it out."

"I'm so sorry, Marcus!"

"I know. Now cut it out." He sat by her side. "There's a lot of shit to get done so stop crying."

Victoria sniffled and nodded. "I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do for you, Marcus, I want to do it. It's why I brought you here."

He thought for a moment. "Do you have an owl system?"

Victoria nodded. "Yes. One. He belongs to June; an old lady who's been living here for years."

"Listen. I have to go to Quidditch practice or else they'll start looking for me and that's the last thing I need with my dad out there. There is a girl. Her name is Angelina Johnson and I need to know where she is. But you can't send it to her directly because if it's caught they'll know where she is. Instead, send it to an Oliver Wood. Do you understand? Oliver Wood. Make sure the owl cannot be traced." His mom was smiling at him now. "What?"

"You're so grown up and handsome," Victoria said. She brushed some of his hair back.

"Can we leave the mum/son reunion crap for later? This girl is in deep shit. If the Death Eaters find her I'm going to be spending a lot of time in Azkaban for murder because I swear I will kill anyone who touches her. I've already wasted enough time here."

"You love her."

Marcus went silent and then stood. "I have to go. Do as I say. Now."

Victoria was still smiling as Marcus began to run down the tracks. "I will! Be careful, Marcus! Do you have the amulet?!"

He waved the golden medallion by its chain the air, turned the corner, and was gone.