Stacking the Deck

Chapter 19

Limbo, neither heaven nor hell, was Jones' morning. Things happened according to schedule, but she barely remembered the classes she taught. The flow of bodies at lunchtime pulled her along to the Great Hall. Caught up in a circular argument with herself, she scarcely noticed the food. Was sharing her little tidbits of information wise? Was she giving up any bargaining power she had? What was up with Mueller? Drifting into personal issues scared her far more than debating about possible problems with the local Aurors. That was a game she knew. Trying to interpret signals from a man was a game she'd lost more times than not.

"You feeling ok?" Wronski asked.

Jones slowly looked over her shoulder. He was leaning on his elbows, a worried look on his face. "Yeah. I guess so." Wronski's eyes traveled to her plate and a frown furrowed his brow. Following his gaze, she realized that her plate was empty save for a slice of bread that she'd buttered and forgotten.

"Sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to gang up on you like that." He leaned over towards the center of the table and brought back a platter of cheese. "You should eat something. This isn't like you."

The idea of Wronski forcing her to eat was charming. "Yes, mother," she replied and dutifully took two slices of an anonymous white cheese. "Yesterday sucked. No two ways about it."

"I didn't expect the Headmaster's office to send out a memo. No one did. Having to prepare more reports was the last thing anyone wanted to hear, especially when we all knew what was the cause." Wronski grabbed another slice of bread and added it to her plate. "You're really taking the whole grade thing too seriously."

The only thing that stopped her from yelling was a mouthful of food. Chewing furiously, she glared venomously at him, all the while preparing a particularly nasty retort.

Before she could swallow, Wronski leaned back far enough to rest his shoulders against the stone wall. "It doesn't matter whether you think they should fail or pass. What matters is that their family honor is at stake. Before you light into me, you should think about that. Every time I'm tempted to fail one, I remind myself that their families paid for their education. None of this is free. Durmstrang isn't the most expensive wizarding school around, but it still costs money to operate." Groaning, he stretched. "This really isn't that bad. Most teachers have to put up with a lot worse."

"I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it. Just deal with it."

Deal with it. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she hunkered forward, ready to begin fighting over the topic.

The corner of Wronski's mouth quirked into a smile. "I know, I know, but you're going to lose this one. Nothing you can say or do is going to change anything and all it's going to do is make you crazy. I think you ought to divert that pissy energy into figuring out a way to keep him out of your classroom. Out of sight, out of mind." As soon as she opened her mouth, he said, "First, it's reports. Next, you'll get to do something you hate like having to monitor the little darlings in one of the libraries. If you keep it up, you know they'll think up more and more things to tie up all of your time. It isn't worth it. Pretend that it's some sort of competition." The first bell began to peal. Wronski rose, clearly glad to hear it. Jones, who always hated not getting her chance to argue and who despised being lectured at, snatched up her satchel, preparing to face her worst class. "Rose," Wronski said as soon as she stood, "don't drag the rest of us into your little war."

It wasn't a war exactly, more like a skirmish after an attempted ambush. Late, as usual, Adler and his purple and silver retinue strolled in fifteen minutes late. Jones refused to acknowledge him. She didn't miss a beat during her lecture while the group escorted Adler to his seat and then disbanded to fill the few seats unoccupied. There were two places less than there were retainers. She ignored them and turned to draw out a diagram on the chalkboard behind her.

"Frau Professor?"

Caught in mid-sketch, she dragged the chalk to a shrieking stop. Hand still raised to draw, she counted to ten and then resumed drawing. The symbols had to be just so. They were intricate things and difficult enough to render when she was focused. She completed the third one and the same voice called out again.

"Frau Professor? If you please, what is the topic for today's lecture?"

The chalk shattered in her fist. The room fell unnaturally silent while she collected the largest piece. The fourth symbol had a central design and a few small squiggly things that had to be added in a certain order. Her concentration was broken. Part of the way through the second squiggle, she realized that it was in the wrong place. She hadn't had to refer to her notes on any of the diagrams all year, but now she had to do so. Still refusing to look at her class, she turned to pick up her notes. In her peripheral vision, she saw movement and chose not to look. Back to her drawing. The last symbol was simple. A few flourishes with the chalk and she would be done.

There was a soft sound behind her, a bare whisper. While she finished the last line, her other hand reached around into her pocket and pulled out her wand. When she spun back around to face her class, all she could see was purple. Two of Adler's retainers were busy reading her lecture notes.

"Excuse us, Frau Professor, but, as you were occupied, we thought to review what you had prepared." The shorter one took two of the pages and began walking back to the seat he had occupied. The taller shot an annoyed glare at the other and then bowed before following.

"Bring those back."

"A few moments, please. I see where you are currently at in today's lecture. It will only take a brief time to copy them." Still reading, the shorter retainer didn't look up, didn't see the expression on her face.

"Really? I don't think so." Clutching her wand like a knife, she was in mid incantation when the door opened and Rabe darted inside.

"Professor Jones!" The rest was a stream of Bulgarian or some language that she didn't understand. Her vision darken into a tunnel, focused only on Rabe. She didn't hear him, really. His mouth moved and his face darkened, a sure sign that he was either scared or furious. She allowed herself the luxury of thinking some very uncomplimentary things about her department head, inching towards what might have been a very unwise decision when a familiar face, all sandy blond hair and watery blue eyes popped into her classroom.

"Pssst!" While Rabe continued to berate her, she heard Wronski's hiss. With one last glance at Rabe, she walked to the doorway. "What's up? I can hear Rabe clear down in my room."

"One of Adler's guys took my lecture notes without asking."

"Oh." The debate going on in Wronski's head was telegraphed by twitching and wincing. The wincing won. "Send him to the library."

"I want to send him somewhere alright," she growled, glaring over her shoulder at her class. "I'd like to send him to the depths of hell. Wanna help?"

"Rose," Wronski whined. The whine worked. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away from the smug-looking group seated around Adler. The great lord appeared bored. "Don't fall for it. He's baiting you. If you let him do this to you, he's going to win. And I do mean win. Every time you react, it'll be another meeting with the Headmaster or one of his aides." He was right and that only made it worse. A dull ache in her hand finally registered that she was still clutching her wand. It would be so easy to put an end to the whole thing. "Rose...."

"Yeah. Gotcha." Jones took her time walking back to her podium. She shuffled her notes into a neat pile and counted to ten. "Bring my notes back now. You won't need them."

"Frau Professor?" The shorter retainer looked up from his copying. "I am almost done."

"Doesn't matter. Heinrich, you have a research project to start." From the doorway, Wronski coughed. Rabe cleared his throat. "I want you to prepare a paper on all the rituals using this format. I'll see you next..."

"Wednesday," Wronski prompted.

It felt like surrendering, but the thought of not having to see Adler's patented smirk for almost two whole classes was enough to sway her. "Wednesday. I want a complete citing of all sources used. There must be a minimum of ten." Ten. Usually, she made her students cite four. "Make sure all of the rituals you mention have all appropriate diagrams drawn out. All of the symbols must be present and any additional items required must be mentioned." She grabbed the two pages of missing lecture notes without looking at the man who had brought them. "Good bye, Heinrich. You can leave now."

* * *

"Well, was I right?" Wronski asked during the break between classes. They stood next to Jones' classroom, under the last turning of the stairs. She grimaced, aching for a cigarette. "I was, wasn't I?"

"You were right, Paul," she intoned listlessly. "The rest of the class shaped up as soon as he was gone. I just feel like I took the easy way out."

Wronski shrugged.

"Still, no Adler for almost a week. Makes me wish I'd said next Friday instead." The idea made her smile. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll just find research projects for him to do and never have to put up with him in class again."

"Nice idea, but you'll have to deal with him occasionally." The first bell pealed. Wronski smiled at her. "Every time he's a jerk, you have a reason to send him to the library. As long as you tie it to the lecture, it should be ok. He'll complain, you know, but you can always pull out some claptrap like he wasn't being challenged enough."

Jones snorted in disgust. Not challenging Adler enough...

"I know a whole raft of things to say. Tell you what, I'll write up a list you can use. After 'not being challenged enough', you can use 'exercise his creativity' or 'expand his horizons'."

That was enough to get her to laugh. "Deal! Thanks. I appreciate the help."

"No problem." He waved as he walked down the hall towards his classroom.

The Special Projects students were distracted. Something especially exciting was happening in their little world. Jones caught them whispering and passing notes. This course was always her most dedicated and the lack of attention irritated her. She began pacing during her lecture, getting closer to the desks each time.

Veronika bent over something, not her notes. Jones darted forward when she passed and grabbed up the thing that was more interesting than Jones' lecture, a mirror. Not just any mirror, but one that had been enchanted to show a variety of possible hairstyles and makeup choices. When Jones first snatched it, the image of Veronika was still there, shifting from an image of the girl with her hair up to a different one with an elaborately braided arrangement. Jones glowered at the thing only to see Veronika's face replaced with her own. Hair up, hair down, pulled back, heavy make up, strangely colored eye shadows... The mirror manipulated Jones' practical haircut into more variations than she had any idea existed.

"My cousin sent it to me on my sixteenth birthday. It is a foolish thing, Frau Professor. Please forgive me." Veronika, normally the proud scholar, blushed.

The mirror began a different color scheme of make up. Jones snapped the cover shut and handed it back. "Something special going on?"

"No," Dieter said immediately. The rest of the class all nodded a second off.

"Yeah. Right."

* * *

1500 and the end of the school week took years to arrive. The best and the brightest of the Dark Arts program pretended to listen to a lecture that Jones pretended to give. The topic didn't grab anyone. When the bells tolled and Jones put her notes away, she realized that she hadn't finished. Well, there was always Monday.

Her classroom was empty before the end of the second bell. For a few minutes, she stood alone, listening as students thundered up the staircase, racing to enjoy a whole weekend free of lectures. Her weekend was already claimed. There were folders and folders of homework that she'd ignored waiting for her. If she applied herself, she might get half of them done by Monday.

"This is where you teach?" Mueller's gravelly voice caught her by surprise. She shook off the last of the depressing thoughts to see what looked at first to be a black wall blocking her doorway. She blinked rapidly, forcing her eyes to recognize the outlines of the big man and, behind him, the smaller form of Massys.

"Yeah. Come on in. You just missed the last class of the day." She sat on the corner of her desk. Her feet throbbed in appreciation.

"It is much plainer than I had anticipated." Massys walked in and stood, staring at the walls.

"What was the topic?" Mueller asked as he looked at the smudged mess of her blackboard.

It took two jerky attempts to scoot around to see the chalkboard. Different colored chalk dust mingled into a long diagonal smear in the center. On the left was a list of herbs for the Ritual Magic course. Bits and pieces of symbols and notes looked to have been spewed over the rest of the board. "Stuff. All sorts of things."

"Some of these are difficult to find." Massys pointed to the list. "Where would one find yucca root?"

Snorting, Jones grinned. "I like to include things that can be used from my old work. They get extra credit if they can remember to throw those in, too."

"Both New World and Old?" Massys produced a notepad and a pen and began writing. Mueller's growl, a language unto itself, slowed the scribbling. Guiltily, Massys finished the list and put the notepad away. "I am always fascinated by what can be used to replace other items."

"You're here to take a look at a secret room," she said, sliding off the desk. "Let's go look."

"We are in no hurry. You must be tired after your day." Mueller took two steps into the room and managed, for him, a wide smile.

"It's ok." Jones sneaked a peek at both men while she stuffed the last of the folders into her bulging satchel. Massys looked carefully neutral, his business face. The wide smile wouldn't have been out of place on most other people, but it looked strange on Mueller. "You're here on business." With a grunt, she dragged her satchel off the desk and winced when the weight yanked her arm painfully straight. The thing weighed a ton these days, a constant reminder of how far she'd fallen behind. Mueller took it from her and carried it towards the door as if it were nothing. "Thanks. I think."

Feeling remarkably unburdened, she led them up a level and then down the dark corridor. At the end, she stopped. "Either of you know any good songs?"

"Songs?" Massys quirked an eyebrow. "It responds to music?"

"The two on this floor do." Out of habit, she rapped out a cigarette, but caught herself before she lit it. "It's been hours," she said as she regretfully slid the cigarette back into the package.

"How did you discover that it reacted to song?" Massys pulled out his wand and cast the diagnostic grid. The grid glowed its familiar green, but nothing sparkled or glimmered within. He didn't wait for Jones to answer. Kneeling in front of the wall, he pulled out a folder from his jacket and snapped his fingers.

Jones made it as far as beginning to sneer when the ceiling lit up. Mueller leaned over to whisper in her ear. "He will be busy for at least an hour as he reviews the reports he has brought with him. That is more than enough time to go outside."

"I could really use one," she muttered. "That ok, Massys?" Massys' hand raised again and the grid shimmered with another, different grid overlaying the first.

"He will not notice we have left." Mueller's chuckle sounded like sifting gravel. "Once he has found a puzzle, he is not to be deterred. Come."

My puzzle

, she thought, but allowed herself to be led away.

The mountain air turned her nose and cheeks red. Nothing fazed Mueller. He helped her smoke in companionable silence. Silent since Jones couldn't think of much to say. Mueller was content to stand at the base of the stairs with her and not say a word. She tried a few times, but realized that almost all of the things she wanted to talk about didn't fit in the "light conversation" mode. She really wanted to pry into his personal life: ask questions as to whether his family had arranged a marriage for him; why was he here; did he even notice she was female; the list went on and on. Not one of the questions that constantly popped up was one that she could "just mention". Smoking and standing was the best she could manage until Mueller finished his fourth cigarette and, as he ground it out, pointed back towards the castle. She led the way, all the while kicking herself for being too cowardly to talk.

As far as she could tell, Massys hadn't moved. The only things that had changed were the number of reports spread over the floor and the lack of the diagnostic spell. The space crackled with energy. It made the hairs at the nape of her neck tickle. "It eludes all of the standard techniques." Without looking up, he flipped through a thin book. "I have used all of the usual ones as well as the advanced spells. It is almost suspiciously clear. It shows no traces at all." Still holding the book, he stiffly rose. "Let us now begin the more unorthodox methods. First, light."

Jones immediately screwed her eyes shut and, for good measure, clamped her hands over her face. Even so, a flash startled her. Keeping her face covered, she asked, "What next?"

"Wind." There was a rustling sound as Massys or perhaps Mueller picked up the scattered reports. Then, a loud clicking sound. It took her a few seconds to realize that her satchel had been both closed and locked, things she almost never bothered to do. She dared a quick peek through her fingers, just in time for the wind to start. The air roared through the hallway. Cold. Dusty. Her hands felt like filthy ice cubes while her hair was blown past mere disarray. As suddenly as it started, it was over.

"How about some heat?" She regretted the quip.

"Heat." Massys nodded. "Heat, yes. Then cold. Excellent."

It was horrible. The corridor turned into an oven. Sweat began to pour out of her as she began to shed her coat.

"No. Keep it." Mueller reached around and tugged it back onto her shoulders. His hands rested on her shoulder to keep it there. Then, cold. Aching, numbing cold. Her joints ached, warning her of the possible pains of old age. Teeth hurt. Mueller pulled her against him. It was too cold to enjoy it. Then, it changed again to be merely too cool for comfort.

"Can't you just sing to it?" Glaring at Massys, who had produced a notebook and dutifully recorded the results, Jones tried to comb her hair into place with her hand. She needed no mirror to know she looked like a hag.

"Here." Mueller reached around her and held out a comb. She hesitated to take it. Some things were too personal, especially things that picked up and could possibly hold bits of you that could be used later.

"I must have one in here," she managed through clenched teeth. Searching through her coat, she eventually did find a brush. The hunt gave her enough time to vanquish the combined feelings of embarrassment and worry. The brush snagged repeatedly. She fought with it while Massys made notes and Mueller stood, mostly silent, behind her.

"Touch?" Massys spread his hand over the stones.

"Has to be the right family," Jones said as she worked out yet another snarl. "These are all tied to the same bloodline."

"How do you know that?" Mueller took the brush from her, holding it out of her reach. Her eyes were glued the brush and the hairs fluffed there.

"Combination of things. For one, Adler can get into these things. No one else can. For another, well...." While she thought, Mueller tore the first chunk of hair from the bristles. "A student told me."

"Willingly, no doubt." Massys turned back towards the wall, allowing Mueller to hand the brush and all of the hair back to Jones.

What may have been a teasing gesture felt far too much like a threat. Eyes locked on Mueller, she fished out her wand. Mueller stood where he was; behind her, she could hear Massys shift, undoubtedly to protect the other Auror. "Inferno Frigidus." The hair flashed once in blue flames and was gone. "I don't think it matters whether the information was given willingly or not. I know that these things are keyed to a bloodline. The person or persons who can enter the rooms, can alter the wards to temporarily allow others inside. Right now, he's working over their signet rings so they can come in."

"Cold metal. Well thought out." Massys stepped back two steps to look at the wall. "Such enchantments would last perhaps a week, maybe two, on a cold object like that. It would be of an advantage, no?"

"Yeah. Something like that." Jones crossed her arms, wand still in her hand. "Why don't you sing to it? That's the key."

"I myself do not have much of a voice." Looking uncomfortable, Massys finally admitted, "I tried singing earlier, while you were gone. The best result I achieved was a brief reaction."

"Really?" A smile crept over her face. "The thing's a critic! I can't sing, either, but I'll give it a try." No songs came to mind at first. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter what it is, does it?" Her first attempt ended in a coughing fit. The second sounded remarkably similar, only more rhythmic. The third time, she managed a singsong recitation of "Happy Birthday". The wall might have rippled, but possibly not. "Strike two. You're up."

Mueller looked balky, shaking his head in refusal.

"Actually," Massys said, walking over to stand next to Jones, "Hans has an acceptable voice. He just does not care to sing."

"Why not?" It was too good of an opportunity to let pass, so she didn't. "Oh, come on! Sing something!" Mueller's face set into an annoyed scowl. "Come on! Sing! Sing or I'll..." Or what? Sulking as he did, Mueller looked remarkably like a very large version of a little boy. "Tickle you!" Laughing, she grabbed him in the ribs and was very surprised when he jumped backwards. "Aha! Sing or else!"

Both she and Massys shared a laugh while Mueller scowled. When they both managed to catch their breath and pointedly waited, Mueller finally did sing. As predicted, his voice was neither awful nor particularly good. He could hold a tune and that was about it. In appreciation, the wall slowly rolled a dull sheen of light.

"Well," Jones conceded, "it's a start."

They repeated the experiment at the other known room with similar results. When Massys wanted to verify all of the other environmental tests, Jones grabbed up her satchel and threatened to leave. He contented himself with mapping the locations.

"And the third, may we examine it as well?" Massys snapped his notebook shut and pocketed it.

"I guess so. Its defenses are shattered. You did a thorough job of that. If you want to, sure. I guess we can go." Bored and hungry, she lagged behind the two Aurors as they climbed to the next level. There, she could smell dinner. She'd lost track of time, but it had to dinnertime or later. Her stomach gurgled in agreement. Definitely past.

"Later," Mueller rumbled and he patted her on shoulder. She flinched before she caught herself.

"This one has a verbal key as well." Preening just a bit because she had information they didn't, she stood in front of the blank wall behind which the room was hidden. "You'll never guess what it is."

"Probably not," Massys agreed. He sounded distracted as he pulled out his notebook. "I would like to examine it as it is. The outer layers of protection are, of course, gone; however, that should allow the routine detection spells to analyze what now protects it."

"Again?" She didn't mean to whine, but she was hungry! It smelled very good down there. There must be a draft or something to carry the aromas of food from the kitchens down to where they stood.

"Professor Jones, did you not wish to learn how the Aurors' office conducted its work?" Massys face lit up in an impish smile. With one hand upraised, he tipped his wand as if about to begin. Jones moved forward, her curiosity outweighing her growling stomach. "We are trained to always begin with the same basic spell." Eyes bright, she stood, transfixed by his every movement. Behind her, she could hear Mueller groan. "From the basic spell, we will work in additional magics, depending upon the reactions we receive from the first one."

"Well, do it!" Excited by the promise of finally learning how the Aurors did their work, she inched closer, drawn by the raised wand.

"Of course," Massys said, dropping his hand, "I cannot allow you to be this close to watch. I am sworn to keep such things a secret." He grinned when her face fell. "Perhaps, another time."

"Massys! You! You!" She wasn't sure what she wanted to do to him. Being teased wasn't something she'd expected, especially not being teased by an Auror, even an Auror like Massys who didn't seem to take his position seriously at times. Struggling for the proper word, she settled for shaking a finger at him in frustration.

"Distract her," Massys ordered as he returned to his work.

"Distracting" consisted of Mueller turning her around. "The actual spell is very basic."

"I just wanted to watch and understand," she grumbled. It was hard to stand there and listen to muttered commands and harder yet to feel the rush of energy. "Can't I watch?" The question came out as a plea.

"Not yet." Mueller's eyes lifted from her to watch his partner. "How has your day been?"

"My day?"

"Yesterday, things had not gone well. Has today been better?" Mueller sounded concerned. So concerned she couldn't think of a thing to say. "You should come down to the village more often."

"More often?" It was all she could do to get that much out. A dozen possible answers pinged into her mind, all discarded quickly.

"We all enjoy your visits."

"We," she repeated, putting a sarcastic twist to the word. "Well, that's nice then."

He wasn't dumb; he understood. "I enjoy your visits. You are an interesting conversationalist."

She knew he was trying very hard, but "interesting conversationalist" wasn't what she wanted to hear. "Well, I try to amuse the masses with my wit." The muttering stopped behind her and she tried to turn around to look. Mueller tapped her shoulder to remind her to keep her eyes turned.

"Later, after we are done here, let us buy you dinner."

Us. Wrong pronoun. Jones stifled a sigh of annoyance. "That would be, uh, pleasant." She forgot to struggle to keep an impassive expression and her mouth twitched into a disapproving turn.

"Rose," Mueller began, clearly trying to sort out the proper words.

"Interesting." Massys tapped his wand against the wall, drawing their attention. "There are a number of layers still intact. More than I would have thought. I have recorded what is present. The warding is two layers, one very strong and held, I believe, with a life force shed. The other is weaker and much more recent. Shoddy work."

The grid had a dimensional aspect to it. Instead of the usual flat green variety, this one had three dimensions. A thick, jagged purple line stood far out from the glowing white base grid work while a much thinner, almost blue dome sat under it.

Jones looked at it, trying to interpret what she saw there. Without any real training, she could only guess. "So, the purple thing, that's the main warding system. It's set to recognize a bloodline, a family. That makes sense. The other one does what?" She asked the question and then tried to guess immediately. "Since I know that people are invited inside, I think that the blue layer is the work that allows the recognition to happen." Scratching her nose, she scrutinized the display. "I'm not sure I get it entirely, but I know that someone has to get in and then part the wards. Somehow, the thing will acknowledge the people let in by their signet rings." It didn't make sense. Wards didn't work that way; well, not the ones she was used to setting and using.

Squatting before the model, she tapped her wand on the stone floor in front of her. Tick...tick...tick... Metal wasn't a good agent as a key for a ward. Tick...tick...tick.... Metal was cold and impersonal. Even ensorcelled, it wasn't personal enough. Anyone could use it. Tick...tick...tick... The signets looked, in many cases, as though they were passed through the families.

She stopped tapping, staring hard at the colors. She'd heard of rings that were forged in blood, but those were usually tied to an individual. An individual tie wasn't good for this sort of thing. The key must be personal, yet temporary. All of the protective wards that she set were tied to the person who lived in or used the area being protected by blood. The wards had a secondary key of blood, maybe a key word, maybe saliva, something that tied the person to the place. This was sort of like a super ward, tied not by an individual's blood, but by a whole bloodline. Bloodline. The book had talked about bloodlines. Cold signet rings tied by blood? She tried to imagine Adler opening a vein as he stood there, inviting his cronies inside. He was undoubtedly generous in many ways, but probably not with his own blood. That would be too easy to manipulate in the wrong hands.

"Yes?" Massys prompted.

Shaking her head, she stood, now tapping her wand against her leg. In the distance, the bells tolled. Nine bells. Dinner had long since passed. She needed a cigarette. "I need to think some more."

They turned and headed back towards the staircase. Mueller cleared his throat. "It is earlier in the village. After din..." In mid-word, he fell silent and stepped back into the shadows next to the wall. Jones and Massys followed.

The smell was stronger now. Food. Glorious-smelling food. The smell had increased, wafting through the corridor. Jones ventured a sniff and salivated. Footsteps. Only one pair. Moving fast. A dark shape strode from the direction they had just been and began jogging up the stairs. Massys leapt after him, running to catch up. Just before the top of the stairs, he tackled the man and dragged him back to the lower level. There, held next to the dim light provided by the torches, the family resemblance was startling. The strong jawline, the set of the mouth and brow, even the placement of the eyes, one set slightly lower than the other, was the same. The purple robes with the gaudy eagles and wands were the definitive difference between Heinrich and Erich Adler.

"Brothers?" Mueller guessed.

"Cousins." Erich shook Massys off with an air of offended dignity. "We are cousins."

"You have a softer accent," Massys noted, eyes narrowing.

"I am Austrian." A thin smile played its way across Erich's face. "Heinrich and Hilbert are German. Not that it matters much. The borders mean little these days. They meant little enough before to our family."

"The Adlers are a large family, no?" Massys pulled out his notebook again and flipped to a spot near the end. "Two main branches still in existence. Yours is the Austrian branch." Eyes flickering over his notes, Massys smiled. "The main one. How old are you?"

"I am twenty-five." Erich stood straight, head lifted, the perfect picture of the perfect Adler.

"Twenty-five and destined to serve your younger cousin. It is a cruel trick that fate played you." Massys smiled humorlessly as he closed his notes.

"Perhaps, but it is my fate. Which is worse, Mudblood, my fate or yours? I at least know my place."

"You can lose the attitude," Jones snapped.

Erich stiffened and crossed his arms over his chest. The torches flickered light over him, chiseling all the lines on his face into sharp relief. The dark purple of his robes made the rest of him just that much paler. Pale enough that the still red lines on his arm stand out.

Her eyes were drawn to the dark lines against Erich's pale skin. Jones' nose twitched. Over the tantalizing smell of food, there was another smell: blood. "It's not Heinrich!" Jones exclaimed. "It's him! He's the key to getting inside."

"Not your cousin?" Mueller moved closer, scanning Erich.

"You find it odd that a Squib can activate wards? It is the blood, after all, that matters."

"Blood," Jones repeated. "It's your blood that opens the wards and your blood that allows the rest inside." Her lip curled in disgust. "You put up with that? You bleed for him so he can have his little parties every week?"

"It is my lot." Erich shrugged as if it made no difference.

"This chamber, it is the largest, no?" Massys chipped each word out as he glared at the proud Adler.

Erich said nothing. Instead, he lifted his chin higher and looked towards the stairs. "I have duties to attend to. Unless you are charging me with a crime, you must release me."

"We are conducting official research. We have analyzed the other rooms, we will now see the inside of this room's defenses."

Jones' jaw dropped for an instant. It never occurred to her that the Aurors would actually lie. It made Massys just that much more human.

"If you do not allow us entry, you will be charged with interfering with our duties. You will be taken back to the Northern District office where you will be questioned and held until," Mueller sounded as though he were reciting, "such time as...."

"You cannot do that! I am an Adler!"

"An Adler. Great. Sounds like reason enough to me." Jones looked away in disgust and realized that she still held her wand. "Erich, where are we?"

Puzzled, Erich stared at her. "Where? We are at the Durmstrang Institute. Why do you ask such foolish questions."

"Did you know that the professors and staff are supposed to help keep order here?" She rapped his arm with her wand. "Do you know what I am? What I used to do?"

"You teach Ritual Magic and some other courses. You are not a member of any of the great families. What else is there to know?"

"Not much. Thanks. Your attitude will make this so much easier."

Mueller tried to stop her, but moved so slowly that it looked as though he ran out of steam. Massys didn't bother at all. He had already begun to walk towards the wall when she finished placing the Imperius Curse on Erich. She forced him to cross back to where the room was and then told him to push back his sleeves. Erich's arms were tracked with long, white scars and thin red lines. There were no new cuts. He didn't need to bleed to cross the wards when he was alone. Now, however, he did need to do so. The Aurors would have nothing to do with it. Both men not only stepped away, but turned away, too. It didn't bother Jones. Not one bit. In a way, it was better that they didn't watch, made it simpler for all concerned. The slowest part of the entire affair was cleaning off her pocket lint-encrusted anthame enough to reopen an almost-healed cut. Jones' silver anthame worked to get her inside, but neither man had any metal pure enough to cross. They had to raid Erich's fingers to take a ring and his neck to take a chain. That had the feel of thievery to it. Smearing someone's jewelry with blood made it just that much worse. Crossing into the room erased all of the guilt.

Friday was apparently still party night. The tables were laden with food and bottles of liquor. The smell was enough to make all of them drool. Unable to stop herself, Jones began nibbling. A slice of cheese, a few almonds, a piece of fruit, a cookie... It tasted wonderful, better than the food the kitchens normally served. While the Aurors examined the room, she sampled the food. Her stomach quit screaming and the drifty feeling that had been slowly taking hold dissipated. The room itself, apart from the wonderful food, was interesting. The odd assemblage of furniture was worth examining. It seemed to roll through the fifteenth through the twentieth centuries with examples of every era tossed in. The magnificent carved chair she'd seen Heinrich Adler seated in wasn't quite as magnificent up close. It was battered and cracked in more than a few places. It looked less like a throne and more like a cast-off. A clunky sideboard rocked when Mueller touched it. One wall was dominated by a garishly gilded thing, another by a wall of organ pipes festooned with signs and banners. A roll top desk was crammed into a corner next to an armoire full of clothing. Jones grabbed a handful of nuts and wandered over to see what was in it. Uniforms. Lots of uniforms. She pulled at a sleeve of one. Some kind of synthetic. When tugged further, it showed a number on the back. Next, was some sort of sports uniform. Flourescent green vests with reflective strips were emblazoned with "Politi". Jones frowned. She wasn't certain, but didn't that mean "police"? Hanging over the corner of the armoire was a hardhat with a familiar seal set in the middle of the forehead looked suspiciously like the ones the village's mounted police wore. There were two almost nondescript black jackets with "politi" patches on the shoulders. The jackets were in almost perfect condition. The armoire was crammed full of similar things.

"Quite a collection. I could swear this is what the firemen wear in the village." She pulled out a heavy coat and sniffed. There was still a smokiness about it. Everything in the armoire had names, numbers or both on it.

Massys came over to see what she was talking about. Reaching in, he pulled out one of the black jackets, hissing aloud when the patch on the shoulder could be read. Jones backed away, not sure she liked his reaction. Massys laughed while he pulled out jackets and loud orange jumpsuits.

Mueller seemed enthralled by a collection of things in a dark corner. He was too busy to look up when she passed. Helping herself to more food, she pulled open a drawer in the desk. It was full of what looked like official seals, office supplies (a calculator, which wouldn't work at Durmstrang, a hole punch, paperclips and a parched-looking ink pad) and a wad of what looked like payroll checks dated last summer. Another drawer yielded a list of names and the last one she bothered to open had a hodgepodge of tools and junk. The tambor was stuck on something. Jones gave a tug, but nothing moved. Bored, she looked up. On the ceiling, almost out of her view, were signs.

"Either of you have good eyes? I can't see that far." She pointed at the ceiling.

Massys dragged himself away from his survey to see what she was pointing at. Jones caught the gasp.

"What?" Standing on her toes, hoping those few inches would make the difference, she squinted. The signs were just blocks of color to her.

"Johannes was right." Mueller's voice had a smug tone to it.

"And there," Massys said, pointing. "Those were reported as well." He turned on his heel, carefully surveying everything. "Much of what was reported missing is here."

"What?" Jones wanted to punch Massys. "What are you talking about?"

"This summer and into the beginning of the school year, many things disappeared. We had thought that children were the source of the problem. Here we see that they have been." Massys extended a finger, pointed and crooked. A sign sailed down from the ceiling and spun slowly before him. It looked very familiar.

"That's the sign to the tavern." Jones furrowed her brow. "Why would anyone want to steal that?"

"There is also the sign to the police station, the hood of one of the patrol cars, the uniform of a fire fighter, several uniforms from the local police, my missing dress uniform jacket," Massys growled the last before continuing, "the grave marker of the last mayor, the missing statue from the park, and much more. There is more than enough, no?" he asked, turning towards Mueller.

"Agreed. More than enough." Mueller began making notes.

"More than enough WHAT!" Beside herself, she grabbed onto Mueller's arm. "More than enough what?"

"More than enough to rid you of a problem. It was one thing when little things were taken. The signs, the occasional uniform, ceremonial items... The thieves wanted items that were instantly recognizable. It apparently is more amusing for all concerned. When the complaints were listed and coordinated with the local police, we felt that the kinds of items taken pointed to children as the most probable thieves. This proves it." Massys looked very pleased. "Johannes returned two days ago. He will enjoy this news."

"Wait. How does this get Heinrich in trouble? Why not Erich here?"

"True, it will be difficult to prove that Heinrich is the perpetrator, but as his servant appears to be the only person who can pass through these wards, then it is a mark upon the family's honor to have any of their retainers so named. It is a poor Lord who cannot keep his servants in line. It is their way. A Mudblood such as myself understands these things. I have had it explained to me many times." The feral look in Massys' eyes spoke of victory on more than one level.