Leaving Green Sleeves

Chapter twelve

My kingdom for a room!

It's like being pulled up from your sofa and dumped into a war zone, Tyke though to himself as he peered out from behind the curtain. The devastation was total. People were lying on top of each other, though whether they were dead or just knocked unconscious he couldn't tell. Except the old man on the floor right next to the photo box, the one with his arms crossed over his chest...he was gone. Tyke had never seen a more dead person in his entire life.

"My God, we killed somebody!" He stumbled back, sank down in one of the now vacant armchairs and covered his eyes with his hands. "He's as dead as a four-days-old herring, Lupin! What the hell are we supposed to do?"

Lupin didn't respond, instead Tyke saw him pushing the remote control while pointing it at the screen. "It doesn't work," he muttered to himself. "Maybe it needs time to recharge?"

"Pug's still out there!" Tyke roared and ripped it out of his hands. Their eyes met for a moment, and Lupin stared back at him with a look of surprise on his face.

"I was just testing it, Tyke." His voice carried a bitter, hurt tone that made Tyke wince, but after letting out a long sigh Lupin stood up from the chair and straightened his cloak. "Yeah, we couldn't possibly leave him out there, could we? Maybe I should take a look outside." He walked over to the opening with hesitant steps.

"Hey, Lupin? I'm sorry, all right? We just killed someone, and...it's too much, man. I'm fucking flippin' here - it's my fault." Tyke leaned against the wall, hiding his face with his hands. "It's all my fault, and now I've dragged you lot into this mess with me. I'm sorry, man, I - I can't..."

Lupin stopped in the doorway and turned back, looking at Tyke with a frown of irritation. Just as he was about to speak, the curtain was ripped open from the outside and he stared into Mundungus Fletcher's face. They both jerked back in surprise. "There you are!" Lupin burst out. "Finally I caught up with you - when we get back I'll... Oh, just get in and we can get this blasted thing back where it belongs."

Dung entered the photo box and raised his hand to Tyke, who only had energy to send back a faint nod. "Who's that? Sykes? What's the matter with him? Is he hurt, is he?"

"No, he's sleeping." Lupin plucked his wand up from the table and stuck it inside his pocket - no one tried to stop him. "It's a long story."

"Sleeping?" Dung stopped in front of his snoring friend and looked down at him with a bewildered expression. "How could he sleep through all that noise?"

"There was noise?" Tyke asked in a shaky voice as Pug too entered the box. "We didn't hear anything..."

"Now we're all here," Pug cut him off, "I suggest we start this thing and get it back before the Ministry starts looking for it."

"It doesn't work," Lupin explained, his voice slow as if he was explaining a difficult spell to an extraordinarily dim-witted student.

"What about all those people out there?" Tyke asked, but no one seemed to hear him.

"I told you so, didn't I?" Pug said to no one in particular while glaring at Lupin. "He'd get back that insufferable attitude the same second he got his wand back."

For a few seconds the two men stared at each other, then they both looked away. The only sounds came from the crackling flames on the outside and the soft moans of the people who'd started to wake up. Dung turned to Lupin. "Are you telling me this thing can't get us back, are you? Because if it can't, we have about thirty seconds to get out of here before the Aurors come barging in."

Lupin nodded. Once more he picked up the remote, pushed the buttons and nothing happened. "That gives us twenty seconds, then." Without another word he threw the remote into one of the chairs and grabbed a hold of Sykes' arm. "Someone help me!"

Pug took the other arm and together they hauled Sykes up on his feet. With hesitant steps, the group went into the pub and Tyke looked away when he saw the dead man on the floor. His face had turned ashen, and he grabbed Fletcher's arm. "I killed him," he muttered. "I never intended anything like that, I swear. We didn't know..."

"Nah, he was dead already," Dung replied and pushed Tyke back into motion. "This was his wake."

"A wake? A wake." Tyke repeated the word to himself as he followed the other men outside. "Someone's going to be seriously cheesed off about this..."

The Aurors would be there any minute now, and they would come in from Diagon Alley - the only sensible solution would be to exit the pub on the Muggle side. Scamper around and watch the tourist attractions for a bit, then come back in the dead of night and see if they could get close to the machine again.

"So, which way?" Pug asked as they stood in the light from the lamppost outside the pub. "You blokes want to go throw rocks at the Trocadero?"

"I like the Trocadero." Sykes snored loudly, as if agreeing with Dung in this.

The rain was pouring down, leaving all of them soaked to the skin after just a minute. Lupin tripped and took three steps to the left, so the rest of them simply decided to follow him that way while giving Dung a brief account of their day. Soon no one could tell them apart from just another group of Muggles heading home after a night on the town. A stag night, most likely, considering the unusual cloak and robes two of them was carrying. Then again, this was London and it took a lot to surprise people these days.

Lupin moaned under Sykes' weight and Tyke stepped in for him, wanting to make up for the misunderstanding earlier. With a deep breath of relief Lupin straightened out his cloak, then turned to look at the unconscious man. "We need to find a place where we can Ennervate him. Anyone have any Muggle money?"

"I've got credit cards, that's all," Tyke huffed from beneath Sykes' arm.

"Heh! And I was just going to ask if you could lend me some cash," Pug said with a wry grin. "Won't do us much good here."

"I've got some gold." Dung found the ten Galleons in his pocket, the rest he'd left in his room. "Maybe we can find a room somewhere."

*

The hotels seemed rather sceptical at the idea of taking in five wet gentlemen from the street, especially when all they had to offer in return was something that looked suspiciously like well-made children's toys, but after a few hours they found a dingy little place in a side street, pressed in between a book shop and a pub. The man behind the counter peered closely at the two coins Dung had given him, and then placed a key on his desk.

"You need to be out by noon tomorrow," he grumbled and turned his back to them. As they walked down the hall Tyke caught a glimpse of the man, putting the two coins in his own pocket.

The room was way too small for a party of five. With its pale green walls and the naked light bulb in the ceiling it looked more like a storage room for leftover beds that had been tossed in there randomly, but at least it was dry. As Tyke and Pug placed Sykes on one of the narrow beds, Lupin opened the small window to get some fresh air inside.

"So, maybe one of you wand-carriers could trick him back to life?"

Lupin sent Pug a cold glare but walked over to the bed, his wand drawn. "Ennervate," he muttered and waved his wand in Sykes' direction, then walked over to sit on the bed that was furthest from Pug. Sykes sighed loudly, but didn't open his eyes.

Pug sat down on Sykes bed, which made a complaining squeak from the weight - one heavy man was enough, two nearly more than it could bear. "Wake up, mate. You've been sleeping for long enough. We need your brain now, don't let us down." He shook Sykes' leg. The man let out a soft snoring sound, and Pug leaned closer to slap his cheek. "Wake up, dammit!"

"Perhaps he's just very tired?" Tyke suggested, and heard how silly it sounded. "I mean...I know I am." He decided to shut up - he didn't have anything to contribute with anyway. He lay down on the bed in the corner by the door and closed his eyes.

Dung picked up the wand from his belt and repeated the counter spell on Sykes. Then he scratched his head as the man simply continued with his soft snores. "You didn't cast any other spells?" he asked as he turned toward Lupin. "Just Stupefy?"

"No other spells," Lupin replied and lay down on his elbow to watch them.

"Then perhaps Tyke's right, maybe he's just...very tired. Deadly tired." Dung scratched his jaw and didn't exactly look like he was bursting with energy himself. Again the bed wailed as Pug sat down beside Sykes and took a firm grip around his wrist.

"Well, his pulse is strong and steady," he said. "He looks all right."

"Maybe we should just get some sleep? It's awfully late." Tyke suggested from the bed.

"You do that," Dung said with a nod. "I have to go back. You know, just take a look, see if the Aurors have arrived."

"I'll come with you," Lupin said and got up from the bed. "I'm not that tired."

*

A hint of pink behind the rooftops promised a new dawn as Dung and Lupin walked through the streets of London, once more heading toward Diagon Alley. They exchanged the occasional comment, but most of the time they were content with the sound of their feet against the pavement. They could see the pub down the road now and they both slowed their pace, keeping their eyes open for any signs of Ministry activity. Wizards generally weren't that hard to pick out in a crowd, with their slightly peculiar ideas of what consisted of proper clothing among their Muggle kin, and Ministry officials doubly so; they stuck out like sore thumbs.

"Today is the fifth of September," Lupin said, sounding thoughtful.

"Yeah, I know. Been counting the days," Dung muttered. Then he realised what Lupin was talking about, and stopped dead. "Are you talking about... Shite! 'S the last bloody thing we need now. No offence." He followed Lupin again, who had kept on walking.

"Well, thing is I don't know. At home, the full moon will be on the ninth, but we're not in ninety-five anymore." He glanced up at the sky and made a grimace toward the pale waning moon staring back at them. "We have lots of time, but I need to know the date, I have to make preparations. And I don't know what state I'll be in next Monday, how it will affect me. Or whether it will at all."

"How do you feel, then?"

Lupin shook his head. "That's what puzzles me - I feel good. Restless, slightly irritable perhaps, but apart from that I could wrestle a troll." He sent him a wry, slightly devious grin, and Dung couldn't force back a snort.

"This'll be interesting. But we'll get that machine of yours, so I don't think it'll be a big problem. We'll be back in no time!" Lupin just looked at him without saying anything, and suddenly Dung shuddered. Do you really believe that yourself? Lupin's expression seemed to ask, and he found himself unwilling to even contemplate that question further. One thing at the time; right now they had to locate the machine that would bring them out of this misery once and for all. "We'll sort it out, Remus, don't worry."

It'd been about five hours since they left the pub, and from Charring Cross Road everything looked calm. They did their best to keep a casual facade as they entered the passageway into Diagon Alley, and after walking up and down the Diagon for five minutes they decided to try the door of the pub. A bold move in case the Aurors were still there, but the house seemed dark and deserted.

"Oy! What are you two doing here?" A loud voice with an Irish accent was heard, and out from the darkness came a scrawny young boy, not even looking old enough to have left Hogwarts. "It's closed, can't you see?"

"Then why isn't the door locked?" Lupin barked back at the kid, who seemed to lose his nerve when someone challenged his authority.

"I forgot, that's why," he muttered, walking over to the door to stand in their way. "The pub opens in three hours, you'd better come back later."

"What are you doing here, then?"

"I work here," the boy retorted. "I'm the poor sod who has to clean up the mess after people like you. Now please leave."

Dung and Lupin didn't obey him; instead they made their way past him and entered the pub. The wall that divided the room earlier in the evening had been removed, and everything seemed to be in its ordinary state. No time machine, no coffin, nothing. Dung took a look around for any sign of damage, but couldn't find anything - not so much as an overturned ashtray on the floor. He sent Lupin a quick glance, and got a contemplative stare back. Told you so, Lupin's eyes seemed to say.

"There was a gathering here last night." Lupin turned to the boy, still standing by the door with a sullen expression on his face. "Did it end early?"

"You're Marius' men, aren't you?" The boy straightened up and regarded them with more respect this time. "Ended in a right mess, I can tell you. Why weren't you here?"

"What happened?" Lupin's voice brook no argument.

"I'm not sure." He frowned, stuck his hands into the pockets of his cloak and shrugged. "I wasn't here. When I came, the Aurors were all over the place. Someone talked about a dragon attacking them, though how a dragon would've managed to get behind the wards I have no idea, and..."

"Was anything removed?" Dung interrupted the boy's speech.

After sending Dung a brief glance, he seemed to accept Lupin as the one in charge. He stared at him as though he wanted to speak up but didn't dare to. "I...I can't remember. The Aurors came to talk with me, and then I started working. It was a dragon, yeah, I'm positive it was. They took away the old man's coffin... If only I could remember."

He rubbed his temples as if he had a headache coming, and then looked up at Lupin. "Could you talk to Marius for me? I don't want to clean out the dustbins for the rest of my life, all right?" For a moment he sounded almost desperate, but then he lowered his head again. "Sorry... Er, I think you two had better be going. If anyone finds you here I'll get in trouble."

"What's your name?" Dung asked as he passed the boy in the doorway.

"Mike," he replied. "Mike Laughlin." Then he closed the door in their faces.

Dung followed Lupin out into Diagon Alley, shaking his head. "This place is filled with ghosts," he muttered.

"Someone you know?"

"Knew, more like it, or will know. Will knew... Oh bugger, time travel messes up one's grammar, doesn't it?"

Lupin sighed and looked up the empty street, only illuminated by the occasional flaming torch. "Ghosts of Christmases yet to come. Well, the Ministry seems to have cleaned up its tracks. What do we do now? We have to find that machine, but that may take some time. God, sometimes I hate being right."

They stood for a while just looking at each other, and then Dung clapped his hands together and rubbed them hard. "We're here, so we'd better make the best of it, don't you think? It's about time you met a friend of mine."

He passed Lupin and set course for Knockturn Alley. Massaging his temples, Lupin followed with hesitant steps. Whatever was down that alley, it couldn't be anything good.

*

Stuart Borgin did not appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night. Dung hadn't expected a warm welcome, but when Borgin saw Lupin he became nearly furious. "What on earth do you think you're doing?" he hissed in Dung's ear. "Did I ever say I allowed guests? Do you think I'm running a flophouse for imbeciles who can't even manage to stay in their own time zone?"

"They came to help me, all right? Give them rooms - I can pay!" He reached into his pocket, pulled out the Galleons he had left, and slammed them onto the tabletop. Borgin only stared at them with contempt.

"Then get them rooms down at the Cauldron!"

Dung closed his eyes and forced himself to stay calm. "I can't do that, someone might recognise them. They need a place to hide until we've found out how much the Ministry knows."

Borgin took his cup of tea and sat down in front of the fire, wrapping his dressing gown around him with angry movements. Then he stared into the flames for a minute. "What's in it for me?" he asked, his voice calmer.

Dung's brain worked hard to find a good answer, but in the end he gave up. "I'll owe you one," he muttered, tired of Borgin's constant negativity. But at least they were negotiating instead of yelling.

Lupin entered the room with two cups of steaming hot tea in his hands, one of which he gave to Borgin. "I realise this must be an awkward moment for you, Mr Borgin," he said as he sat down in the chair beside him. "Contrary to what Fletcher is saying I'm sure we can find somewhere else. We don't have to stay in Diagon Alley - there's the whole of Muggle London right outside the doorstep."

Borgin waved his words away. "I'll give you one room, that's all I can spare."

"But you've got half a dozen rooms up there!" Dung was starting to get angry. "They're all empty! I've never heard anything, never met anyone in the stairs..."

"One room," Borgin repeated with a lingering look on Lupin, "and there's only room for two people, so the other two will have to find someplace else. That's my final offer."

"But..."

"We accept." Lupin cut off Dung's protests and smirked into his tea. "We'll just have to have a duel to decide who's going where. For my own sake I hope it will be a duel of chess and not armwrestling. Do you have any suggestions for the two others?"

Borgin stared into the flames again, pondering his question. "Yes. I have a friend, just down the street, who might be willing to take you in - for a reasonable price, as long as you don't get too comfy with her girls."

A memory stirred in the back of Dung's head. "Are you thinking of..."

"Madam Val, yes. A most agreeable person, in my experience."

Dung slipped down on the wooden chair in the corner. "Why didn't I think about that?" he said to himself. Madam Val's. Yeah, this could turn out very interesting indeed.