Retrospection

Chapter Five--Vitam impendere vero*

She was little and scared. She felt that she shouldn't be there. She should be at school studying Charms with the other second years, not in this dimly-lit room which felt like one of the school's dungeons. Everyone here was looking at her--wanting her to say what they already knew. But she had promised that she wouldn't tell. Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut? Now he was in trouble and it was all her fault.

Mum's hand was on her shoulder. She wouldn't let anyone hurt her. She looked around at the other adults in the room. Some were whispering, many were silent. No one looked happy. Daddy seemed tired and sick. She wondered if she could make him laugh again when she returned home during the Christmas holiday. The Headmaster looked very serious, but when he saw her looking at him his eyes twinkled, reminding her to be brave and tell the truth she knew. But she didn't like the man next to the Headmaster. It annoyed him when she walked on the lawn or came over to talk to Winky. She couldn't remember a time when she had seen him look more upset than he did now. However, he also looked tired and worn out and she wondered if he would cry with Mrs. Crouch, who was sitting next to him already in tears, once they returned home that evening.

Mr. Crouch took a deep breath and all emotions vanished from his face. "Tell us what happened."

The words seemed to be caught in her throat. She couldn't say anything fearing that she would cause more trouble.

"Go on, love. Tell Mr. Crouch what you told Daddy and me last week," Mum said.

"But I promised that I wouldn't tell anyone." She said, looking up at her mother.

"This is important, love. We want the Wizengamot to make the best decision. So they need to know about anything you can tell them," Mum said kindly.

Perhaps she could say just enough that the adults would be satisfied, but still not break her promise. "I was playing hide-and-seek and hiding inside a wardrobe. Barty and his friends came in, talking and laughing about how they had just cursed a man and his wife. At first, I hoped they were making it up. But I knew they weren't. Then someone began to cry. She was afraid that people would find out what they had done and they would be in trouble. Another woman laughed as a man said that everyone would know what they had done once," she paused, not knowing if she could say it, "You-Know-Who came back."

"And?" Mr. Crouch said, assuming there was more to her story.

"And that's all I can say." She had told the truth, but not all of it.

"I don't think you understand the significance of your testimony, little girl," a man said whom she could not see. "The fate, the very lives of several people lie in your hands. You wouldn't want the wrong decision to be made because we didn't know about everything that happened, would you? You wouldn't want something bad to happen to those people if they were innocent?"

She shook her head but noticed that some of the adults were snickering to one another as if the very thought of innocence was impossible.

"So, what else happened?" the man continued once it was quiet again.

"I can't tell you. I promised that I wouldn't."

Mr. Crouch swore. "I don't know who you're protecting or why, but it isn't going to work. We already know what you're not telling us. So, why don't you be a good little girl and stop wasting our time." His anger frightened her more than his telling her that he knew her secret, because she knew he was bluffing.

The men in front of her dissolved and she found herself sitting between her parents on a bench near the back of the dungeon-like courtroom. Four chairs with chained arms stood where she had testified earlier that day. Mum asked her if she wanted to return home, but she wanted to remain and find out what would happen. The room was tense; the very air seemed to stand still. It was so quiet that if a spider sneezed, she could probably hear it. A door opened and the members of the Wizengamot returned looking grim, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Crouch. Mrs. Crouch was weeping still, but Mr. Crouch seemed ready to explode with anger. The only time she had seen him this furious before was when last summer when Barty had brewed a potion in the greenhouse and forgot about it until the greenhouse blew up. The Wizengamot took their seats while Mr. Crouch led his wife to her chair. He took his place next to the headmaster.

"Bring them in."

As the door opened again she felt cold and afraid. She began to wish she had taken her mother's offer of returning home. It was hard for her to breathe and she began to squirm in her seat as six massive, dark creatures brought Barty and three other people into the room and strapped them into the four menacing chairs.

"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law…" Mr. Crouch began, but she found it difficult to focus on what he was saying. She began to remember what had happened four months earlier as Barty plead with his father. But just as he had not listened to her pleas for mercy, his own fell upon deaf ears. She remembered feeling cornered and helpless then and shivered as the memory returned. Daddy put his arm around her, but she did not want to be confined. She struggled to get loose, but he whispered for her to be still. She obeyed reluctantly.

"I now ask the jury to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!"

The Wizengamot raised their hands in unison and the room exploded with noise. The dark creatures returned and started dragging Barty and the others from the room as they shouted their protests. He was being punished and going to prison. But he had said that everything would be alright if she didn't tell anyone anything. She had kept her promise to him and not told anyone of what else had happened. But now she also wished she had never told her parents about Barty's secret meetings when they asked her about them. Now it was too late.

All around her people were cheering from the results of the trial. Daddy pulled her closer as if he was trying to protect her from the madness of the crowd. But he pulled her too close, she couldn't breathe. She tried to scream as she struggled to free herself, but something was sitting on her face. She needed air!

Susy sat up gasping for air. She pushed Tamara away. The cat hissed and jumped off the bed, pouting.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I do need to breathe." Susy wiped the cat fur from her face. "There are other ways of telling me you're hungry." Susy threw back the sheets, stumbled out of bed, opened the door leading into the hotel hallway, and brought in the breakfast tray left by room service. Tamara weaved between Susy's legs as she placed the tray on the coffee table. "Don't think that you'll get this every day. Tomorrow you'll be back to cat food," Susy said as she placed cold sausage links and pieces of bacon on a plate for Tamara. She buttered a piece of toast for herself.

What richness, Susy thought as she sank onto the sofa, but quickly sat up properly, thinking that this particular sofa did not appear to be a piece of furniture one should slouch upon. Her hotel room also had two armchairs that matched the formality of the sofa, an enormous bed, a desk with lots of paper, and a few other piece of furniture. She didn't know exactly what she had been expecting for accommodations, but it had not been staying at a five-star hotel in central London decorated with restored antiques. She didn't even want to think of what the final hotel bill would come to at the end of her stay.

After a long luxurious shower, she found a note from Lori under her bedroom door.

Susy, dear:

I regret to inform you that I'm not feeling particularly well this morning. It might have been something I ate on the plane. But I would feel dreadful, dear, if you remained at the hotel on your first day in London all because of my little stomach ache. So, please go out and enjoy yourself.

I forgot to mention when we were in Salt Lake for you to bring a formal dress for any black-tie events that we may attend. I've included a few pounds in the envelope because it's entirely my fault. Use it all; consider it compensation for facing your fear of heights yesterday, if you must.

Have a wonderful time. Do try to return around six, dear, because we have dinner reservations.

~Lori

Susy opened the blue envelope again and took out over a dozen twenty-hundred pound notes.

"Good heavens! There must be some sort of mistake—over two hundred pounds for a dress?" she said to Tamara. However, Tamara was far more interested in curling up for a nap in the warm patch of sunlight by the bedroom window than Susy's current financial situation. Feeling uncomfortable with the excessive amount of money, she reached for the telephone. But halfway through dialing Lori's room, she realized her ignorance concerning formal attire, never having had an occasion to purchase a formal dress before. She remembered Jarett mentioning that his younger sister, Bethany, had spent nearly three hundred dollars on a dress for her Junior Prom earlier that spring. Hanging up the phone, Susy reasoned that Lori probably knew perfectly well what she was doing when she had included bills. Besides, Lori won't want to be disturbed if she's not feeling well, Susy thought. She sighed loudly as she made her final decision and put the notes into her purse.

Susy quickly finished getting dressed, rejoicing in the distinct difference in weather between Salt Lake and London as she fastened on her favorite pair of sandals. As it was already early afternoon, she scribbled a quick letter to let Jarett know where she was staying and then headed down to the lobby. After purchasing a tourist map of London from the gift shop, she proceeded out through the revolving door. But she didn't step out once she got outside. She quickly pushed the door around until she was back inside the hotel. Had she really seen him again? Susy looked around the foyer, but the man she had hit with her car two nights before was nowhere to be seen. Of course not, she thought to herself. How would he get here?

"Miss? Miss, can I help you?" the doorman asked her as she walked outside again.

"Um, yes. Did you just see--" But deciding that she didn't want others to think she had been hallucinating; she changed her question. "Do you know where I can get a--it's silly really, but I'm looking for a really incredible dress?"

"Oh, is that all? From the look on your face a moment ago, I thought you'd seen a ghost." She blushed as he continued. "Well, you might want to start with the department stores over on Oxford Street, and then ask someone else from there. Sorry, but I'm not very knowledgeable in women's apparel. Now, if you want me to call a taxi to take you there, that's my area of specialty."

"Yes, thank you--" she leaned over slightly to read his name tag, "Bert."

Four hours later, Susy walked onto Charing Cross Road with her acquired packages and a purse that was nearly two hundred pounds lighter. She was glad that she hadn't called Lori earlier that day. Several of the dresses that she looked at were easily three times the amount of what Lori had given her. She decided that their price must take into account the service that was provided at each shop. The shop attendants treated her as if she were their only customer, and Susy had to admit to herself that it was enjoyable to be pampered and fussed over while trying on the different articles of clothing. She finally decided to purchase a light blue satin evening gown, coordinating open-toed heels, and a few pieces of matching jewelry.

The only thing that could make this afternoon better is a good book, she thought as she continued to walk awkwardly with her packages down the road, which was lined with several businesses, including a number of book shops. Susy walked up into one of the larger of these, and twenty minutes later emerged with a new copy of Sense & Sensibility to replace her well-loved copy at home in her small Jane Austen collection. But while trying to determine if her hotel was within walking distance, balance her several packages, and walk down the steps of the shop, her foot missed a stair and she tripped, sending her parcels and herself sprawling onto the sidewalk.

"Perfect," she muttered angrily to herself. Aside from the fact the leather strap of her sandal had ripped completely off, she was uninjured except for her pride. She hoped that only a few people had seen her unplanned attempt at aerobatics. Looking around, it appeared she was in luck. The attention of the crowd that had gathered was focused on finding the location of a loud, destructive commotion rather than her mishap. Standing up with her broken sandal in one hand, she joined the crowd and began looking for the source of the disturbance. At first, it seemed to be coming from the neighboring record shop. But then she saw it. A small pub was between the two shops and she knew the uproar was coming from within there.

Just as she considered how odd it was that she had not noticed the pub before, something crashed through one of the pub's lower windows and zoomed skyward. Losing the black dot in the sun, she turned to survey the damage it had done to the building and found herself face to face with the man she had considered to be a hallucination hours before. Both parties seemed to be caught off guard at the presence of the other. Susy was at a complete loss of words. However, he was not, as his eyes broke their contact from hers.

"Autumn! Look out!" He shouted as he ducked.

She quickly turned around to see what exactly she should look out for as a large jet-black ball pummeled against the side her head and she passed out.

* "To stake one's life for the truth" - Mrs. Who from A Wrinkle In Time