The Traveler's Secret

CHAPTER 13: MEETING DUMBLEDORE

The next morning, Jean Fulver awoke to a pounding on his door. At first he wasn't sure if it was the door that was being pounded on, or his head. Sleep bleared his eyes, and he rubbed them as light poured into his room. The knock at the door became more insistent, and Fulver found himself yelling something unintelligible at the intruding noise. When the person on the other side didn't take the hint, Fulver lumbered up out of his bed, and staggered to the door, somewhat aware that he had slept in his clothes.

He rubbed his tired face, feeling a shadow of grizzle under his hands. Old sweat salted his skin, and he became acutely aware of how much he needed a bath. As he passed his writing desk to get to the door, Fulver noticed a small envelope with a letter sticking out of it. He stopped dead in the middle of the room, and, for a moment, Fulver became completely immune to the knock at his door.

He had been certain that the envelope and its letter were a fabrication of his dream world.

But there the letter sat, very much a part of this reality. It waited for him, a secret menace dancing around his consciousness. Fulver had not had time to inquire as to who had sent him the letter. He had planned on finding out today. Jean had forgotten that he had already promised to go to the Great Hall with Krum. At that moment, the knock at the door broke through Fulver's whirling thoughts. Jean quickly snatched up the envelope and its letter from the table. He strode over to the source of the knocking, tucking the parcel inside his jacket, as he opened his bedroom door.

A slightly irritated Sergei Krum stood on the other side of the door, dressed immaculately in sky blue robes. He peered in at the unsteady Fulver, who was massaging his head. Krum wrinkled his nose in disgust at the Frenchman.

"UGH, Fulver! Haven't you ever heard of a bath? You can't go down to the Great Hall smelling like that. People will lose their appetites!" Sergei condescendingly stated.

Fulver felt his old irritation rise up as he looked out on the smug Sergei Krum.

"Okay Princess! Let me wash up so that I don't affront your delicate nose!" Fulver snapped. He slammed the door in Krum's face.

"Rude... inconsiderate..." Sergei yelled, his muffled cries barely making it through the oak door.

There was more said, Jean was sure, but he didn't hear the rest of it. He had turned around, and found that a large wash bowl and cloth had magically appeared in his room, sitting on his desk. Jean knew when to take a hint, and quickly stripped off his jacket and shirt.

Sergei Krum had begun to knock again, his anger slowly petering away.

"Don't think I'll wait for you Fulver!" Krum yelled. "You can find your own way to the Great Hall. See if I eat with you!"

Jean had begun to quickly scrub his armpits and chest, the cloth running over his smooth marble skin in circles. He smirked at Sergei's comment, knowing full well that the man had no intention of going anywhere alone. He could make him wait, but Fulver could feel hunger gnawing at his insides, and he wanted to get to the Great Hall as well.

Jean Fulver, done in a matter of minutes, quickly combed through his haphazard white hair (the comb being another item that had magically appeared on his desk), and slung his shirt and jacket on him. He made sure that the letter was tucked in tight in his jacket, and his gun was secure at his hip.

Just as he had expected, Sergei Krum waited outside his room, arms folded across his chest, and a scowl creased into his face.

"I'm starving. Let's go Princess!" Fulver said as he marched down the corridor, trailed by a fuming Krum. Sergei had a bunch of invectives on the tip of his tongue, but very little ability in getting them out properly.

The trip to the Great Hall was shorter than last time, since both men knew their way to the dining area. Fulver and Krum ate at the staff table this time, next to Dumbledore and Wolfbane. Tom Jr., who had been disappointed that his new friends couldn't have sat at the Hufflepuff table, understood that it would have been extremely awkward for them to be crammed in next to a bunch of teenagers. Most students noticed the new additions to the staff table, and looked on them with harmless curiosity. Everyone assumed that Sergei and Jean were special guests.

Only a few people seemed to be really against the inclusion of the strangers to the staff table. The most vehement of the dissenters was Professor Vikious, who had openly brought his argument against the strangers eating with the staff to the Headmaster, but was denied his wish. Vikious ate silently and alone, often shooting the newcomers venomous looks, most of them directed at Jean Fulver. Fulver answered every dirty look with an arrogant grin, which enraged the Potions Master even more.

Jean Fulver had expected Professor Frederick to act the same towards him, but Fulver found himself surprised by the man's apparent change of heart. Although Professor Frederick wasn't as candid with Fulver as he was with others, he, at least, would speak to the Frenchman. Frederick, who sat to the right of Jean, had even taken an interest in the tiniest of things about Fulver, like where he grew up, and what exactly it was a Muggle soldier did. Fulver couldn't tell Frederick much about the espionage business, seeing as it was a secretive profession. He managed to escape without an answer by shoving a large amount of treacle tart into his mouth. Frederick took the hint, and asked no more.

Fulver was glad that he had shoveled the tart into his mouth, even if it was a way to avoid a question. The food was excellent, and had removed all of Fulver's worries as he enjoyed his meal. Krum also seemed to have brightened up, his easy going manner returning to him with every bite he ate. Sergei had even begun to talk to Fulver again. Jean was surprised by how food could change so much, but as the meal ended, and people began to drift out of the Great Hall, Fulver slowly felt the weight of their situation grow on his shoulders. He noticed that Dumbledore had become more disheveled, his skin sallow, and robes wrinkled. Dumbledore would cast a glance at Fulver and Sergei, his blue eyes dull with exhaustion.

Soon Fulver, Sergei, Wolfbane and Dumbledore were all that were left in the Great Hall. When everyone had gone, the four men got up awkwardly, and walked to the doorway. Jean walked next to Sergei, whom walked a few paces behind Dumbledore and Wolfbane. Albus and Johnny pretended to be in a heated argument on which Quidditch team they thought would win the Quidditch world cup this year; they completely ignored Sergei and Jean, but Fulver knew that Krum and he were to follow the American and Dumbledore.

Albus and Johnny led the two men out of the Great Hall, and up a swooping stair case, which led them to one of the classroom levels. No classes were in session at the moment, since the end of the year tests had ended, and the students were scheduled to go home by train the next day. As they passed some of the classrooms, Jean Fulver peeked into them.

Most looked like ordinary classrooms with some equally spaced out small desks facing a chalkboard. Some of the classrooms had strange splatters on the floor or odd smells coming out of them. One of them had an assortment of pillows, feathers and other odd things.

Finally they reached Dumbledore's office. Wolfbane glanced behind him, his scorching gaze scanning over everything around them. He gave Dumbledore a tiny nod, and stepped aside, standing as a guard outside the office door.

Sergei Krum and Jean Fulver stepped forward, both apprehensive. Sergei followed Dumbledore into the Professor's office, eager to have something done about his situation, but terrified at the same time. Just before Krum went into Dumbledore's office, he turned around, and gave Jean Fulver the most frightened look Fulver had ever seen on Krum's face. Jean gave Sergei a reassuring smile, and Krum relaxed, all the fear he had in his face dissolving away.

It was odd. Jean Fulver wondered why Sergei had looked to him, and not Wolfbane or Dumbledore for comfort. Krum and Fulver weren't the best of friends. Most times Sergei Krum got on Fulver's nerves, but it had been Fulver that Krum had looked to for reassurance, and Jean had given Sergei that encouragement. Whether Fulver wanted to admit it or not, he knew that he and Sergei were similar in that neither one of them knew how to do magic, and both were surrounded by people who did. Maybe that was why Fulver had smiled. It hadn't been much, but it had been enough to give Sergei the courage he needed to step through Dumbledore's door.

Jean started to walk towards Dumbledore's office, but was stopped at the entrance by Wolfbane.

"Dumbledore only wanted to see Krum in his office. You can wait outside with me," Wolfbane said gruffly.

"Then why did I bother coming here to begin with?" Fulver asked, trying hard to hold his temper in check.

Wolfbane's face reddened slightly and Fulver could see he was irritating the man, but before the American could say anything, Professor Frederick came walking up the hall. Frederick had been deep in thought, ambling along in contemplation. He was completely unaware of Fulver and Wolfbane until he was almost right on top of them. Frederick froze when he saw the two men standing next to Dumbledore's door. Surprise lit up the Professor's face, as if he was not expecting to see anyone near this particular area, but soon the common mask of placid calm fell over his features.

"I've come to see Dumbledore about..." Frederick stopped, his eyes flashing over at Wolfbane, then turning, ever so slightly, towards Fulver.

Once again, Fulver could see anger and dislike in Frederick's features when he looked over at the Frenchman. It wasn't anything big, just minutiae of facial information: the tightening of the jaw, the tiniest narrowing of the eyes, the slightest flare of the nose, but as before, those signs were soon gone, replaced by an unreadable calm.

"Dumbledore will see you tomorrow Frederick," said Wolfbane, who had not moved one inch from the doorway. "He can't see you now, because he's with Mr. Krum at the moment. If you like, you could show Mr. Fulver around the castle."

Fulver knew exactly what Wolfbane was doing. He wanted Frederick to keep an eye on Jean. This meant that Jean was still considered to be a traitor. Fulver felt his stomach churn up sour feelings.

"I've already had a tour thank you!" Fulver snapped.

"Now don't get so angry Fulver. I'm sure there's someplace I can show you that you haven't seen yet," Frederick stated presumptuously. He looked down on Fulver as if he was reprimanding a naughty child.

Fulver hated being treated like a traitor, but abhorred being treated like a child even more. He wasn't going to stand for that. He glared at Frederick, and marched towards Dumbledore's office. He had every right to know what was going on, since he was neck deep into the situation, with no going back. As he neared the door, Wolfbane positioned himself in front of the entrance. The American's arms were tense, his hands clenched like claws at his side, and his eyes were flickering between yellow and violet. Fulver knew what was happening. He had seen first hand what it was Wolfbane could do. Fulver knew better than to anger the American any further. Still, it was frustrating for Fulver to be treated like an enemy.

"Just testing you Wolfbane," Fulver said nonchalantly, as he backed away from the door.

Jean turned toward Frederick, a taunt grin covering his face. Frederick seemed to be surprised by Fulver's reaction. So was Johnny Wolfbane, who had expected more of a fight from the Muggle, but neither one of them could have anticipated Jean's next move.

Fulver walked over to Frederick, and clamped a hand onto Frederick's right shoulder. The Professor's body tensed up. If he were a cat, the hairs on his back would have been standing straight up, but he wasn't a cat, and he didn't pull away from the seemingly friendly gesture.

"Since you're so eager to show me around, why don't you show me to the person who delivers the mail around here?" Jean said his friendly words frosted over with underlying anger.

Frederick tried to wiggle out of Fulver's tight grasp, but Fulver dug his fingers into Frederick's shoulder, not caring if he hurt the man. Frederick grimaced in pain, but showed none of it in his voice. Jean Fulver was impressed. Wolfbane stood firmly at the door, watching the interaction with some mild interest.

"Mail? I'm not sure what you mean!" Frederick responded.

Fulver dug his fingers into Frederick's shoulder even more.

"You know letters, correspondence, important memos. Surely the Wizarding world has those types of things as well. Who delivers it around the castle?" Fulver asked his lilting voice more frightening to hear than if it were stern. If he couldn't follow Sergei, then he was going to follow the letter he had received.

Frederick jerked in pain, trying to wrench his shoulder out of Fulver's grasp, but finding his wand arm was writhing in agony. He wasn't getting anywhere near his wand too soon. Frederick looked to Wolfbane for help, but knew that the American was watching him as well as Fulver. Wolfbane trusted neither of the two men, and seemed to be entertained by this small battle of wills.

"Yes, we get letters, but they usually come by Owl. We don't have anyone who delivers letters and correspondence throughout the castle. Why are you asking?" Frederick asked, a sliver of anger slicing through his words.

"Not even a message between teachers? Come on. There must be somebody who delivers messages that owls can't, somebody who knows all that goes on around here. A servant that perhaps you have forgotten about?" Fulver said.

"There is only one person who fits that description close enough," Frederick said as he wretched his arm out of Fulver's grasp. He massaged his shoulder as he glared at the Frenchman.

"Who is it?" Fulver responded, a seriousness trickling into his words.

"Mr. Borden the caretaker!"

Jean Fulver examined Frederick for a moment, and then marched down the hall that he had just come from. Frederick watched Fulver go, ruffled and angry that the Muggle had had so much control over him earlier. Jean Fulver stopped a few paces down the hall, and turned around.

"Well are you coming Professor Frederick? I thought you were going to show me someplace I haven't seen yet. I want to go to Mr. Borden the caretaker's residence, so lead the way."

Frederick looked puzzled, and slowly walked over to Fulver. He hadn't expected this request, but he was never really sure how the Muggle's moods would swing. Frederick glanced over at Johnny Wolfbane, who nodded his approval. The Professor sighed, and noted that he was going to have to remind the American how much Wolfbane owed him for this. Frederick hated being a babysitter, especially for a Muggle like Jean Fulver.

"Okay follow me!" Frederick answered wearily. Frederick led the way down the hall, followed closely by Fulver.

They soon came to a corner and rounded it, leaving Wolfbane behind as they journeyed deeper into the castle. Frederick led Fulver to the staircase that they had just come up, and started his way down. Fulver followed.

What neither of the two men saw as they went down the stairs, was the man who silently crept out of the utility room just off the stairwell. Professor Vikious looked around him, and then secretly stole down the stairs after Frederick and Jean Fulver.