1975

Chapter XIV - Into the Woods

"Well, lassie, now you've finished with Malfoy, could you spare me a minute?"

Alison started. She had been standing with her back to the parlour door, watching the fireplace by which Lucius Malfoy had just flooed out. She surveyed Alastor Moody, whose wand was pointed at her head, with a sinking sensation in her stomach.

"Hello," she said, a quick glance confirming her wand was missing. She had been taken unawares by this Auror. In a moment, her arms were being firmly held behind her back, and she felt something cold and hard pushing into her back. The ground gave away under her feet.

It must be a portkey,she managed to think after the first shock. It wasn't as sickening as floo. It was like racing down the runway in an aeroplane, but faster. She was sure it would kill them to stop suddenly.

She did fall on her face when the portkey deposited them at their destination. For a second, she considered lying still, and forcing her captors to drag her about, but feeling Moody's hand on her collar, she dropped that fancy, and resolutely stood up.

She was in a small bare room. Standing in front of her was Barty Crouch Sr., looking furious.

"Where are my son and my sister?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Alison. "I'm not a Death Eater."

"What did Malfoysay to you?"

"He asked me to find your son and return him to you."

"Return him? Really, Howard?" Crouch gave a short laugh.

"Should I request a truth potion?" asked Persephone.

"No. That'll take much too long." He took out his wand. "Crucio!"

She had thought she knew what pain was. She was after all the girl who without much hesitation had carved up her forearms to save her friend.

But the Cruciatuscurse was different. Viridian had explained it all, and she had thought then only about how much she would enjoy to use it on him and escapethe day's lecture.

"The most acute pain that a person can suffer is injury to the major nervous centres. Take a look at your wrist, for example. The median nerve runs through there. If you were to cut through to the nerve, you would suffer a pain that is literally unbearable. You don't feel it there in your wrist. You feel it all along your arm, in the spinal cord, and in your head, like an explosion. Fortunately, it nearly always brings on unconsciousness." Viridian paused for dramatic effect. "But, of course, magic has overcome that particular protection offered by the human body. The Cruciatus curse inflames the nerves, but also prevents the victim from losing consciousness or even dying. And so, the world marches on. Who said that wizards are superior to Muggles?"

That last sentence echoed in Alison's mind when it was over. Before that, it had hurt too much in her mind to think. It was enough, she later told Florence (but no one else, since they would have been scandalized) to turn one a supporter of witch-burning.

It had been two minutes. She lay very still on the floor, sobbing. No one touched her. Persephone, sick to her stomach, did want to comfort her, to slow her ragged breathing, and dry her tears, but she knew that would be perverse. Leave such hypocrisies to Barty Crouch, who seemed to take pleasure in mixing gentleness with cruelty whenever it suited his purposes.

"Well?" said Crouch quietly.

"I was telling you the truth," gasped Alison. "Lucius Malfoyasked me to find your son. He did, and I can't say anything else."

"No," said Crouch slowly. "I won't ask you to. A little pain has given you credibility."

"That wasn't a little pain!" protested Alison. She was still lying where she had fallen, but her invincible defiance had returned to her in full.

"No, it wasn't," admitted Crouch. "But it was necessary." He knelt down beside her. "Come, stand up, Alison. I'll make it up to you." He put his arm about her shoulder, helped her up, then pushed the strands of hair from her face, and wiped her face dry with his handkerchief.

"Now, tell me what Malfoy wants you to do."

"He wants me to leave Hogwarts tonight and go into the Forbidden Forest with Severus Snape and Mordred Lestrange. He said we'd meet a guide there, who will help us find your son."

"And my sister?"

"He said he'd take care of her."

"Very comforting," said Crouch.

"He wanted me to bring Barty straight to you," said Alison quickly. "Why wouldn't he do the same for Narcissa?"

"Continue," said Crouch.

"That's all really. He sent Snape and Lestrange to get proper boots. But he said this guide would supply us with everything else."

"This is a good deal of trust he's putting in you."

"Yes," said Alison.

"Then, I suppose I must follow his lead."

"Please don't have us followed," began Alison. "It'll only ruin things."

"No, I won't," said Crouch. "Keep in mind that if you betray my trust, there will be consequences."

"We may not succeed," said Alison faintly.

"You needn't worry about that. I have enough methods at my disposal to determine how you failed. But," he paused. "Be careful. For all you know, Malfoycould be luring you into a trap. I wonder how he thinks I won't find out about his involvement once you've returned. If he plans for you to return... Tell me. What can we give you?"

"Nothing, really," said Alison. "I don't want Malfoy to know you're involved."

"Yes, but I want you to succeed." He looked at her appraisingly. "You'll take my invisibility cloak."

Both Alison and Persephone gasped.

"I needn't stress it's my family's most valued heirloom and if you carelessly drop it somewhere, I'll authorize the Dementor's Kiss. I'll have my house-elf bring it down to the boys' dormitory. You'd best get back to the Three Broomsticks. McKinnon has been keeping guard on that parlour, so no one will know you've been gone. Persephone, take her to a flooplace."

"Yes sir," said Persephone.

"Alison, good luck." He held out his hand to her. With a second's hesitation, she shook his hand, then turned and followed Persephone out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Entering Hogwarts, Alison was nearly knocked down by Evan, running out the doors.

"Alison! Where have you been? Florence's father's gone missing."

"Oh God!" said Alison.

"Consequently, they're sending Florence home but she wants... Well come on. She wants to talk to you at any rate."

The fifth year girls' dormitory was a mess. Florence was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling while Melania and Sybill rushed around packing things. Julian was trying to help but was only succeeding in getting in their way. Megan Diggory was sitting by Florence's head, while Edmund Avery stood guard at the door and refused entrance to the unwanted.

"Alison!" said Florence, sitting up quickly. "Could you all just leave?" she said to the others. "Go and comfort Bertha. I want to talk to Alison."

"If that's what you want," began Megan.

"Yes, that's what I want," said Florence.

As soon as they had left, Florence burst into talk. "Do you know what they're doing, Alison? They're sending me home to commiserate with family and friends. Well, I don't want to do that. I want to find out where my father is, and get him out of there."

"Florence, I don't know what to do," said Alison. "I'm leaving Hogwarts tonight."

"What?"

She told Florence the day's story.

"Maybe my father's being held in the same place as Barty Crouch," Florence said hopefully. "Let me come, won't you, Alison?"

"I can't, Flo. Malfoy said only Mordredand Severus, and that guide will see if I follow orders."

"I'm not going home to mope about."

"Then go home to look into things."

"By myself?" asked Florence, suddenly a little calmer.

"Take a comrade or two along. I'd take Rolly. He is Malfoy'scousin after all, and knows a few useful things. You might have Evan along too. Your mother can ask for them."

"If I need a Transfiguration expert."

"Exactly."

"Well then, let's go," said Florence, jumping off her bed. "You to wherever. Me to somewhere else."

"Do you realize," said Alison slowly. "That we may never see each other again?"

"No," said Florence. "I refuse to realize it."

"Don't tell Julian and Kenneth. They can't be made to tell then," said Alison.

"No, I won't." Florence paused. "Goodbye, Alison."

"Goodbye."

Florence flung her arms around Alison. They held each other tightly for half a minute, then Alison let go, and silently left the room.

In the boys' dormitory, Crouch's house-elf, Winky, was waiting with the cloak.

"You isAlison Howard?" asked Winky.

"Yes."

"My master is sending this to you."

Alison had never seen an invisibility cloak before. Or expected to ever see one.They were the property of a very few fortunate old families. For a sixteen-year-old Muggleborn to be taking an invisibility cloak into her hands was an incredible happening.

"I issupposed to be showing you how to hide the cloak," said Winky, breaking up Alison's reflections as she passed the soft, silky cloth over her fingers. "Say, 'Obscuro Amiculum Invisum.'"

Alison repeated the words. Nothing appeared to happen.

"Now, put on the cloak, Alison Howard," ordered Winky.

She did, and then gasped at her reflection in the mirror. The cloak fell over her shoulder and hung there, completely visible.

"No one can be seeing it's an invisibility cloak," Winky explained.

"And if I want to be invisible?"

"Say, "Revelo Amiculum Invisum," while you is touching the cloak. Will you be remembering this?"

Alison repeated the spells for her.

"Good, Alison Howard. We is trusting in you to bring back young Master Barty and Miss Narcissa."

"Well, I'll try my best," said Alison, uncomfortable with the house-elf's confidence in her.

"Professor Dumbledore is trusting you too," said Winky.

"Dumbledore?"

"He is wanting to see you in his office with Snapeand Lestrange."

"Oh Lord!"

She raced down to the common room where Severus and Mordredwere standing by the door.

"Let's go," said Severus.

"We can't. Apparently, we have to talk to Dumbledore. Crouch has let him in on this too."

"He might order us not to go," said Mordred hopefully.

"He might, and we'd be dead where we are: afoul of Crouch and Malfoy both," said Severus darkly.

"It seems to me we're either dead where we are or dead somewhere else," said Mordred.

"We have an invisibility cloak, a guide, Lucius Malfoy'sbacking, our wits, and our wands," said Alison. "You might have a little more hope."

"Who will this guide of Malfoy's be? That dimwitted friend of his: Nicholas Crabbe?"

"If he is, that'll be our first sign Malfoy means treachery," said Severus practically.

"Malfoy does mean treachery," said Mordred. "Or don't you know yourFrench?"

"You're a fine one to talk about sinister French surnames, Mordred Lestrange," said Alison, laughing.

Mordred looked at her for a moment, thenjoined in. If she refused to be worked into a state of panic, there was no reason to work himself into one.

They became very quiet on reaching Dumbledore's office. None of them had been there before without being in trouble, and it seemed likely the pattern was about to continue.

The room was almost dark when they entered it. The headmaster was bent over the fire, but rose to greet them.

"Miss Howard, Mr. Lestrange, Mr. Snape, welcome. You may wonder what your old Headmaster can possibly do for you except give you a long, boring lecture..."

"What did you wish to see us about, sir?" interrupted Severus.

"To wish you luck, Mr. Snape. That's all I'm afraid I can give you right now. Later, perhaps, Hogwarts can give you something very valuable indeed."

"And what is that?" asked Severus.

"Salazar Slytherinwas a very ambitious man," said Dumbledore, a twinkle in his eyes. "Not very many people know that he didn't want to settle for sizeable grounds for the school. He drew out bounds all around the Forbidden Forest. A small fiefdom. Needless to say, the other Founders, and their successors had no desire to maintain those bounds. But the entire forest is still in a way part of Hogwarts, and help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

"Thank you," said Alison in mocking tones.

As soon as they left the office, Alison burst out laughing. "Well, at least, Hogwarts is on our side. He's completely cracked."

They unconsciously fell into heroic mode as they walked down the Hogwarts lawn. Heads held high, faces, hard and determined, their cloaks billowing behind them. But their confidence disappeared under the eaves of the forest.

"Malfoysaid due North," said Alison, taking out her wand and performing the Four-Point spell.

"Let's make as little noise as possible," said Mordred. "Even the trees here are unfriendly."

"Trees are always unfriendly," said Alison. "Whatever Professor Sprout says. We're their natural enemies."

"Yes, well given all that, I hardly think a tree attacking us is at the top of our list of worries," said Severus. "Unless, of course, Dumbledore has decided to improve the forest with a few more willows of the whomping variety. Please, keep your fantastical musings for more appropriate time, both of you."

Alison considered a retort, but then decided it was best to shut up.

They trudged north through the forest for about half an hour, after which it became very difficult to maintain their course. The trees seemed to grow into each other, and any illusion of a path had long ago disappeared.

"Has LuciusMalfoy tried ever this?" hissed Alison through gritted teeth, as she tried to untangle her skirt from the thicket without ripping it.

"Is the cloak all right?" asked Severus.

"Oh, yes, the cloak's all right," said Alison bitterly. "It's obviously almost indestructible. But our robes are going to be history if this goes on much longer. Mordred, you've scratched your hand."

"A little," said Mordred, whipping his bleeding hand out of sight. "It's not so bad. This has to let up eventually, and we can keep blasting our way through till then."

"At a snail's pace," said Alison. "Where's this guide Malfoy promised us?"

"UP HERE!" A voice boomed above their heads a little ahead of them. "You're those young wizards from Hogwarts, aren't you?" The thicket ahead of them was suddenly pushed aside and trampled on.

He was about twenty feet tall with long, bushy red hair and a beard, and he was smiling broadly. It wasn't a reassuring smile. It showed off his large, sharp teeth alarming well.

"Yes, we're Hogwarts students," said Severus resolutely, holding Alison's arm firmly in case she might run. "What do you want of us?"

"I was told you needed guiding," said the giant.

"Told by whom?" asked Severus.

"LuciusMalfoy. You are Lucius Malfoy's, aren't you?"

"Yes, we were sent by Malfoy," said Severus. He didn't seem inclined to further the acquaintance. Alison decided to take things into her own hands.

She stepped forward and held out her hand. "My name is Alison Howard."

"I'm called Mug," said the giant, taking her small hand into his huge one, and shaking it vigorously. She had difficult keeping her balance, and was very relieved when Mug finally let go.

"I'm very glad that you'll be guiding us," said Alison. "We've been having trouble so far getting through the thicket."

"You're the wrong size. That's what you are. But I'll make a path for you. Do you want to start right away? I have all the stuff you'll need in my sack."

"Yes," said Alison. "Let's go."

"I can carry you on my shoulder if you like, Alison," said Mug.

"No thank you," said Severus quickly.

"Why?" said Alison. "I'd rather ride than walk. Yes, if you please."

Mug reached down, picked her up none too gently, and put her on his shoulder. "But don't pull my hair out," he warned. "Come along, you two, and don't doddle. We'll be going as quick as your little legs can manage."

Mug began to stride along, pushing away trees before him.

"She gave her name to him!" said Mordred in a low tone to Severus.

"Yes, and she'll give him ours too. Whenever one begins to forget she's Muggleborn..."

"LuciusMalfoy has a giant in his service. Does the man have any moral standards?"

"No," said Severus. "What should we do now?"

"We'll have to wait till he puts Alison down before doing anything."

"But will he put her down?" said Severus.

"If we were to distract him..."

Mug looked back at the two boys behind him, who had stopped walking, and were huddled in conference.

"Your friends aren't too cheerful fellows, Alison," said Mug.

"I think they're afraid of you."

"Fair enough. I could break their necks in a flash and all those children's hexes they know won't hurt me."

"Why not?"

"Old magic. Part of my flesh and bones. Nothing like your little wand tricks. Not that a wand can't be deadly in skilled hands. I wouldn't have taken you if you weren't children. You look old enough, though."

"I'm sixteen years old. Not an adult yet. And Lucius Malfoy'san adult."

""Well Lucius's different. I've known him since he was a boy. His uncle was one of the only wizards who ever did seem to like us giants. Roland Wilkes was his name. And he ended up being killed by that tough crowd up in the Orkneys, so his example hasn't been much followed."

"Roland Wilkes's son is one of my best friends," said Alison.

"Is he now? And what does he think about giants?"

"I've never asked him," said Alison.

"I'd like to see him," said Mug reflectively. "His father would come up here with Tom Riddle. Roland wanted to know all sorts of things, and Tom wanted to know how to use things. And then there was Lucius'sfather, Justinian Malfoy. He hated it up here, but Tom and Roland dragged him along, and he'd sometimes bring Lucius. Lucius is the only wizard I talk to now."

"Do you like Lucius Malfoy?"

"Aren't you a friend of his?" asked Mug surprised.

"Well, yes, but... many people don't like him very well."

"Most witches and wizards don't like me either. Do you see that scar on my ear."

"Yes."

"Got that off an Auror twenty years ago. I've worse ones down my back. And that was for an accident. I didn't mean to step on the old witch's precious cat. Would she listen to my apologies? No. Just called in the Aurors, and no questions asked, they try to take me down. One of them never left that place alive," he said with obvious relish. "But I was in a bad way for the next few weeks. Then I went down into the valley, and burnt the witch's house, with her inside."

Alison began to wonder if it had been a good idea to ride on Mug's shoulder.

"Too bloody a tale for your tastes, Alison?"

"No," said Alison quickly. "I've heard too many bloody tales of the Aurors myself to be shocked."

"They can't leave well alone. They have to hunt us down. Not like Muggles, who leave us alone these days. They don't even believe in us anymore, Roland told me. So when, they see me, I kill them so they'll keep unbelieving. There's no harm in that, Luciussays. They're only Muggles."

"Do you find Mugglesoften?" asked Alison with a slight shudder.

"Not so often. I go places most Muggles can't go. No, wizards are much more of a problem, and as I say, I keep clear of them these days. Except when they're being more obnoxious than usual. There were two, a few months ago, that had a kelpie chained up outside their house. Probably planned to sell it. I broke the chain, and took the kelpie off with me. Those two wouldn't alert the Aurors, though. They'd be in hot water for keeping the kelpie in the first place. I let the poor thing go in the Hogwarts lake... Now let me see. We're supposed to go up to the Black Castle. It's an old Mugglefortress, and it's a gathering place for the Outsiders."

"Outsiders?"

"Beings that aren't wizard or Muggle. No wizard in his right mind would enter the Black Castle, but you'll be right enough with me. And that's where we'll get our news about young Crouch."

"How far is the Black Castle?"

"A days' march for your friends," said Mug, looking contemptuously back at Mordred and Severus scrambling after them. "Are they of any use other than slowing us down?"

"Could you carry them as well?"

"Easily. But they'd never let me. Proud, pure-blooded wizards the both of them, eh?"

"Yes. Their names are Severus Snape and Mordred Lestrange."

"I don't know the name Snape, but Ingeld Lestrange cheated my grandfather of a head of cattle. Proper old pure-blooded family, indeed." He chuckled loudly and frighteningly.

"If you'll put me down a while, I'll talk some sense into them," said Alison.

"I'll be grateful for that. And I'll promise to tone my talk for them. Sorry if I've been talking to much, but you see I so rarely have anyone to talk to..."

"No problem," said Alison. "It's very interesting."

"Kind of you to say that, Alison," he said and deposited her on the ground. She ran back to Mordred and Severus.

"He let you go?" said Mordred.

"Of course. He's guiding us, not eating us."

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Severus.

"I know. Mug's killed an Auror. And a whole lot of other people. But he's touchingly devoted to Lucius Malfoy, and he thinks we're Malfoy's friends. You're in more danger of being clumsily trod on down here than of being torn apart up there."

"You want us to ride on his shoulders?" asked Mordred.

"If you ever want to find Barty Crouch, yes."

"I refuse to be giant's luggage," said Mordred.

"If it's the best way," said Severus slowly, "well then, we must take it. Have you told us our names, by the way?"

"Yes."

Severus groaned.

"The giant's curse is an old wives' tale," said Alison. "And, anyway, he's not likely to curse you if you behave."

"Giants aren't rational," said Severus, "and old wives are a long sight more rational than you think. But what can I do?"

"They want to be carried!" shouted Alison to Mug.

"Good!" shouted Mug. "Now we can actually get somewhere!"

Severus looked skeptical.

* * * * * * * *

Skepticism was the look on Narcissa's face when Lucius Malfoy took off her blindfold and warmly welcomed her to the room. She had been locked up somewhere for hours, and then flooed in by a person who had not spoken one word to her.

"I'm shocked to see you here," she said sarcastically. "Is there a plan behind this or just malice towards my brother?"

"You needn't bother yourself over that," said Malfoy. "You've been rescued."

"Rescued?" Do you abduct people, then, and demand rewards for rescuing them?"

"Pure libel, Miss Crouch. I had no hand in this affair. My contacts told me you were a prisoner, and I could buy you back for a certain price. I hardly expect your brother to compensate me, so a little gratitude would be appreciated."

"Thank you. May I go home now?"

"No. I haven't been able to free your nephew, and if you're released now I fear for what they might do to him."

"Who are they?"

"Servants of You-Know-Who. Servants easily bribed with money. Shall we sit down to dinner, then?"

"Shall we?" said Narcissa. "I don't choose for myself under your care."

"You never choose for yourself," said Malfoy with a laugh. "You're fifteen and your brother's ward. I'm afraid the dinner here isn't quite as good as at Ettencross. We're roughing it here."

"Where is here?"

"An isolated place somewhere in Great Britain where you and I must hide for the next few days."

"You're cooking?"

"Why would you think I couldn't cook?" asked Malfoy smoothly. "Believe it or not, Narcissa, one learns to shift for oneself out in the field. I'm not always an idle aristocrat. But don't let that lower your opinion of me, young lady who can't cook, clean, or do anything remotely useful."

"I can duel," said Narcissa meaningfully.

"I don't doubt that," said Malfoy. "As you don't seem to have your wand, however, we'll have to forego any demonstration of your skills. Will you give me your arm? Everything is ready for you at the table."

She took his arm with all the grace that had been instilled into her since early childhood.

* * * * * * *

"This is Crouch's son?" It was a man's voice and Irish. Barty stored away the information in his mind for future use. Though he was beginning to doubt, lying face down on the cold floor unable to move a muscle, there would be a future to use it in.

"So they say," answered another man. "You're quite free to have your doubts. I know I do."

"If he isn't, gentlemen, we're in some trouble," said a third voice. "Come now, young Bartemius, stand up." He released the binding on Barty as he spoke.

Mustering up his considerable supply of nerve, Barty did. He meant to strike a defiant pose but the shock of whom he saw dispelled the notion.

The man standing before him looked out of place. He was wearing green and brown silk robes,and a gold chain of office about his neck. His hair was long and grey and he had the air of a kindly old grandfather, which indeed he was. His name was Richard Jigger, Lord High Mayor of Hogsmeade.

"You too," said Barty almost sulkily.

"Yes. Turn around."

Barty complied with the order, trembling from head to foot.

"What do you think, Kelly?" asked Jigger. "Can you do it?"

"Aye, well enough," said Kelly.

"Well then, I have orders to see you don't leave here till it's time. If the Aurorshave the wit to come knocking at your door, you won't be there to let it slip out."

"Once it's done, will I be accepted into the circle?" asked Kelly.

"The Dark Lord does not forget those who serve him," said Jigger. "Sit down, Bartemius. Keep a close eye on the boy, both of you. I'll be back tomorrow, of course." He left the room.

"Full body bind again?" asked the one wizard.

"No. Just his legs," said Kelly. "He needs some feeding, Hopkirk."

"And so do I," said Hopkirk. "I'll rustle something up. Don't let him ambush you while I'm cooking."

"Never a chance," said Kelly, pointing his wand at Barty. "Petrificus Cruri! "

"What were you talking about?" demanded Barty.

"Not for you to know," said Kelly.

"Jigger called you 'Kelly.' Are you related to Ignatius Kelly?"

"His son, I'm afraid," said Kelly.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

"Why do you think that, Crouch?"

"You've let me know everything about you. You can't let me go." Barty'svoice was quavering, but he had fixed his stare unrelentingly on Kelly's face. Kelly dropped his eyes after a few seconds.

"I don't make these decisions, Crouch."

"You're a blot on your family's honour," said Barty. "Your father was Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and what are you? Lackey to an insane Dark wizard."

"My family's honour is blotted enough," said Kelly. "Or don't you know of our little scandal? The name of Kelly is mud." He laughed. "I was you, once, Crouch. The spoiled son of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. I had great things ahead of me by right of birth, just as you do. My father took that right away from me. I can't rise very far in the Ministry with my surname. And meanwhile, Mudbloodslike Wilfred Rutherford and Jocelyn Perks are given the positions of responsibility. Or that Mudblood Auroryour father always has at his elbow, Robert McKinnon. It's feudal, really. You keep the power within your select group of respectable families and make the Mudboods your retainers. I'll say this. Every pure-blood wizard has a right to take part in the government of Magical Britain."

"Nonsense," said Barty, tired of Kelly's political ranting. "You just want to replace a well-functioning elite with a rag-tag one."

"The Dark Lord will not establish an elite! All those who come to him will be equals. And soon, all but a few will come."

Barty said nothing.

"I wish you could see it," said Kelly. "I really don't want to do this. You're no more to blame for your father than I am for mine."

"Your pity's worthless," said Barty flatly. "You'll still end up in Azkaban. The Dementors there will find your guilty pity very worth their while. You'll die quickly there, I think. Perhaps, that'd be a blessing..." he trailed off. It was no good trying to calmly undermine Kelly's confidence. He was going to die.

Hopkirk came back into the room. "I hope bubble-and-squeak suits you."

Kelly made a face.

"Take it as a sacrifice for your new society, then."

"Our new society," said Kelly.

"Hardly," said Hopkirk. "I'm here because Crouch killed my brother in a duel seventeen years ago. This should even the score."

"Your brother was the challenger," said Kelly.

"So he was, but his blood's on Crouch's hands all the same, and I'm the one to avenge him."

"You're scared of dueling, so you turn to kidnapping. That doesn't wipe out your brother's death. It degrades it."

"You're a fine one to scorn me for this job, Kelly."

"I'm doing this because it needs doing. Not for revenge," insisted Kelly.

"Yes, you're a noble killer, all right. Well, keep your nobility to yourself. I'm going back to the kitchen."

Barty was inclined to agree with Hopkirk, all things considered.

* * * * * * *

"No," said Augustus Rookwood into the telephone, "I don't think Back In the U.S.S.R. would be at all appropriate as a funeral hymn. Stop kidding around and get me someone on the line who actually knows something about Communism."

Rookwood was standing in the Jorkins'skitchen, surrounded by a stack of papers. He had began arranging his friend Walter's funeral at eleven o'clock Saturday evening and at seven on Sunday morning was still at it.

"What if my father's not dead?" said Florence across the kitchen.

"Not dead?" said Rookwood distractedly. "Of course, he's dead. Don't torture your mother with false hopes."

Since she had arrived home late the previous night, Florence's life had taken on a surreal tinge. Marika Jorkins had made no objection to asking RollyWilkes and Evan Rosier down, but drew the line at them sleeping in Florence's room. Finding a place to put them had been a problem the house being full to the brim with guests. Rollyand Evan had finally seized upon the garden shed.

"Why are you here, Wilkes?" asked Rookwood, putting down the phone.

"Florence asked Evan Rosier and me to come along to support her."

"Oh," he paused. "You don't happen to know anything about Communist funeral customs, do you?"

"No," said Rolly.

"Right. Florence, call me if the telephone rings again."

"I think," began Rolly, as soon as Rookwood was out of the room, "That the only place we can start is MalfoyManor. It's not likely Lucius is particularly involved in this, but..."

"It's a start," said Florence. "We'll take Dad's car, then?"

"You can drive?" asked Evan.

"It shouldn't be that difficult." Seeing the looks on their faces, she quickly added. "The car's undergone certain modifications. You shan't turn us in, shall you?"

"It's a little too late to become law abiding citizens," said Evan cheerfully. "Let's go."

* * * * * * * *

It wasn't until breakfast that morning that the Slytherins realized Mordred Lestrange, Severus Snape, and Alison Howard were missing. The three had never been known for being where they were supposed to be, but when Melania Frost casually asked Kenneth Avery where they might be, and Kenneth had no answer, it quickly became apparent that they were more missing than usual. Tristan Wimple volunteered that he had last seen them the previous evening, heading down towards the Forbidden Forest.

At last, after interrogating people up and down the Slytherin table, Frank Longbottom heaved a heavy sigh and reluctantly made his way to the head table.

"Professor Viridian," He said. "Three Slytherins appear to be missing."

Viridian was not in one of his better moods. Some of the governors were coming to Hogwarts that day to talk with him. To ask him to resign, it was said. For a few seconds he looked likely to strangle Frank.

"Who is it, Longbottom?"

"Lestrange, Snape, and Howard."

Viridian's lip curled. "I can't say I'm surprised, Longbottom." He paused. "I'll have to spoil the staff's Sunday by getting them to look for your wayward trio. With any luck, they've drowned themselves in the lake."

His manner might be bitter, but Viridian was efficient. He'd have the search under way immediately. Frank decided to leave the hard work to other people. He'd confine himself to the role of an investigator. He had some questions for Julian Tierney. He looked down the tables, to see her leaving the Hall alone.

Good. Julian, as he had learnt recently, was unpredictable, and one never knew when she might make a scene.

He was a little surprised to shadow her to Gryffindor's Crypt. As far as he knew, no Slytherin would want to be found there. The teasing would be very painful. Standing at the door, he could see she was looking for something, apparently with little success.

"Julian!"

She jumped at the sound of her name.

"What's down here to lure you from your breakfast?" he enquired pleasantly.

"Nothing," said Julian. "Nothing but a quiet place to think."

Frank turned and pulled the door shut behind him. He walked across the flagstones to her and took her hands in his.

"Let's put our heads together then."

"I don't know where they are," said Julian quickly. "They didn't say a word to me."

"No? That's a pity. Did you think they might be down here?"

"I'm looking everywhere, Longbottom."

"And here especially." He let go of her hands, and looked about. His eyes fell on a grave stone. "That's been moved recently."

"So, it's been moved? What harm is there in poking about?"

"None. I think I'll do some myself." He knelt down beside the grave, and shifted the stone. He let out a low whistle.

"What?" said Julian.

"A mistake," said Frank. He put his hand into the empty grave, and pulled out a crumpled ball of fabric, which he threw to her. "Viridian's scarf," he said calmly. "Is that what you were looking for?"

"No," she said blankly.

Was this what being an Auror would be like? Seeing hatred in people's eyes?

"Let's have the truth," he said. "Sit down."

"No."

"Then, I'll sit down." He took a seat on a plaque. "You know, you could help Alison and the others by telling the truth."

"No," she said again. "There's nothing to tell."

He looked away from her, resting his brow on his hand. "It doesn't get any better," he said quietly. "You'll dig yourself so far down that you'll never see daylight again. Tell me, and I'll help you."

There was no response from Julian.

"Please tell me."

"I can't."

"Yes you can." He looked up at her. "I don't know what it is that..."

She interrupted him. "Frank, did you ever think well of me?"

"Yes," he said, meeting her eyes. "You once had my trust."

Julian let out a sob.

"But now you have a place in my heart. And I'm not standing by, and letting you go wherever it is they want to take you."

"I'll be expelled," said Julian faintly. "Or... Azkaban."

"Julian, Magical Law Enforcement is not in the habit of sending fifteen-year-old-wizards to Azkaban. Look, we'll talk to Dumbledore, and everything will be all right. Even if you have been practicing voodoo on Viridian or..."

"Polyjuice," said Julian softly.

"What?"

"SeverusSnape polyjuiced himself as Viridian and said all those things. Now, what do you think?"

Frank said nothing.

"He did deserve it," said Julian desperately. "You know he deserved it."

"I've been spreading a lie about?" said Frank calmly.

"I'm sorry. I've been sick to my stomach. I really have. I..."

"You very well could be sent to Azkaban."

"You won't tell?"

"Should I let an innocent man be ruined for your sake?"

"You said you'd help me!"

"I'll put in a good word for you with the authorities. I can't do more than that."

"Please," she began. "You can't."

"I must."

She fell on her knees. He turned away.

"I am going to speak with the Headmaster," he said. "I think you should go back to your dormitory."

He could hear her lying there behind him sobbing her as he marched out of the Crypt.

If it had only concerned Dumbledore, he knew, the matter could have been smoothed out, with Julian and the others being discreetly punished and given one of Dumbledore's famous second chances. But the Board of Governors would have to know, and they would not take kindly to a light view of the matter. Neither would Magical Law Enforcement, he suspected. Not Azkaban perhaps. They were only children after all. And perhaps they wouldn't all be blamed equally. SilviusRosier and Kenenth Avery Sr. could probably argue their children out of the mess. But was there anyone to intervene for Julian? Frank doubted it.

He walked steadily up to the Entrance Hall, where he stopped at a most unusual sight. Four school governors were standing there being harangued by Viridian: Cuthbert Mockridge, Dorothea Baddock, Richard Jigger, and Amaryllis Lovegood.

"Do you really think, Mrs. Baddock," Viridian was saying in far too gracious tones, "that teaching your children is untempered pleasure? Your Cecil and Lucy are enough reason for any man to flee. I'll look forward to a removal from their company."

"Professor," interrupted Frank.

"Come to say your farewells, Longbottom?" asked Viridian.

"I need to speak to you, sir."

"I'm no longer to be your Head of House. Bring your problems elsewhere. The honourable governors might lend you an ear. If they haven't already."

"Come now, Viridian," interrupted Cuthbert Mockridge. "You brought this on yourself."

"Yes, I did. I dared expect honesty, Mockridge. You can revile me all you like now for my political opinions and my record as a teacher, but you can't say I was ever dishonest."

"And who are you suggesting is?" said Mockridge stiffly.

"Who do you think? The man who couldn't even bother himself to come here and finish me off himself, but had to send his lackeys to do it. Is there anything of Bartemius Crouch that is sincere?"

"Where is the Headmaster?" said Amaryllis Lovegood uncomfortably.

"In his office," said Viridian.

Frank moved to follow them, than stopped and turned. He ran all the way to the Crypt. Julian was lying where he'd left her, but she made no noise.

"It's too late," he said. "The fool's already shot off his mouth. Libeled Crouch in front of the governors."

"You didn't tell?" asked Julian timidly.

"No," said Frank. He sat down beside her. "No need to ruin your life as well. Though you've ruined his. I wonder how you'll live with that."

There was no response.

* * * * * * * *

At the gatehouse of Malfoy Park, Florencebraked hard, nearly avoiding running over a man in the robes of a Hit Wizard.

"How did you get here?" said the wizard, looking the car up and down. "Oh, you're witch. And a lousy driver. Come on, out of the vehicle."

The wizard's partner had joined him from gatehouse. "Accio wands!" she said as they jumped out of the car.

"Where were you going?" asked the wizard.

"To MalfoyManor," said Rolly.

"Well, we can send you there by floo."

"What's going on?"

"The place is being raided. Come along."

A few minutes later, they stumbled out of the Malfoy flooplace.

"Weasley!" called the hit wizard. "We have visitors."

Arthur Weasleyturned from the parchment he was studying to survey the new arrivals.

"They were driving into the Park," said the hit wizard. "Here're their wands."

Weasley took them from the wizard. "Who are you?"

"I'm Roland Wilkes. This is Florence Jorkins. And Evan Rosier."

"Oughtn't you to be at Hogwarts?" asked Weasley.

"My father's disappeared," explained Florence. "I was called home, and Rosier and Wilkes were asked down by my mother. So..."

"You came to Malfoy Manor?"

"We thought Lucius Malfoy might know something about my father," said Florence quickly.

Weasley's manner softened. "The Ministry's already looking, Miss Jorkins," he said. "Now, this is no place for children, but I can't send you home till we've checked out a few things... So, make yourself comfortable. Tea's over there in the thermos."

"Wilkes," said the wizard beside Weasley. "Your mother's a Malfoy, isn't she?"

"LuciusMalfoy is my first cousin," said Rolly.

Arthur Weasleybit his lip. "Oh well, take some tea," he said.

Rolly sat down on the sofa with a grim look on his face.

"They won't find anything," he said after a moment. "Lucius is too smart for them. And they've made a mistake, letting us sit here."

"What?" asked Evan.

"This wall really isn't here." He paused for a reaction.

"Spill it, Wilkes," hissed Evan.

"This wall's actually a series of doors to various parts of the house. It's not a secret. I know it. But I don't think they do. All we do is lean back into the wall a bit over there, and we'll be in the attics."

"Where?" asked Evan.

"Follow my lead," said Rolly. "I think I will take some tea. Florence?"

"I'll pour my own, thank you," said Florence.

They walked to the table where the thermos and cups were. They waited till Weasleyand the other two wizards had turned their backs, and then Rollytook Florence by the arm and pulled her through the wall.

Once through, they were in a pitch-dark dank-smelling room.

"Evan?" whispered Florence. "Where's Evan? He was right behind us."

"Not quite," said Rolly. The idiot went in beside us. He'll be down a floor. I think we'd better seal up the wall. Lock," he muttered. "It's really not that complicated a portal. But you have to know about it..."

"Where are we?"

"In the attics. I don't know exactly where. We'll proceed with caution. Owww!"

"Is that a spear?" asked Florence, feeling in the dark.

"Seems something Lucius might have. It's not fair."

"What?"

"He doesn't need all this stuff. I wish I had a spear."

"Everything here was taken from the mouths of the people," said Florence.

"Nice mouthfuls this all would make."

"Here's a door knob," said Florence. She fumbled with it a little, thenpulled. The moment the door opened, a pale light shone out, revealing it as a wardrobe. Then, the bloody corpse of Walter Jorkinsfell out of it.

Florence began to scream

"Run!" cried Rolly. "Run!" He dragged her a few steps, before she responded and began running herself. Behind them, huge, pounding footsteps sounded. Finally finding a door, Rolly opened it, pulled them through, and slammed it behind them. Florence collapsed, sobbing. Rollycaught her, and held her close with his back towards the door.

"Boggart," he said, patting her back. "Turned into a giant for me just back there."

"My father's dead," said Florence with sudden determination.

"No, he isn't."

"Why wouldn't he be?"

"They could be holding him for ransom," offered Rolly lamely.

"But they aren't.

"They might be."

Florence said nothing. She stayed still in his arms, crying. After a while, she stopped even that, and they sat there quietly together.

"I can't stop living," Florence said finally. "I know he's dead. But other people aren't. My mother isn't. You aren't." She looked up to where she supposed Rolly's face was, and her nose hit his. She opened her mouth to apologize, and then stopped. He was so close to her. She almost unconsciously titled her face upwards.

And then he kissed her. A quick, uncertain peck of a kiss. But it wasn't how she had been kissed. It was who had kissed her. Without a moment's hesitation, she sought out his lips again. This time, the kiss was more of an objective success. Before she wanted it to be, it was over. She noted vaguely that he tasted like peppermint.

"We have to find Evan," he said.

"Right." They pulled themselves off the ground.

"I'm sorry began Rolly. "That wasn't appropriate."

"I know," said Florence. She wanted to turn and kiss him again, but she mustered her self-control and walked across the room. "But," she said, "If you think I'll let you back out of this..."

Rolly said nothing.

"Hello! Is there anyone in here?" It was Evan, and he had a lighted candle in his hand.

"How dense could you be?" Rolly greeted him. "I said, Follow my lead. Not, Mosey in beside me."

"It's a good thing I did," said Evan. "Look what I have."

Florence took the piece of parchment from him. "Damn Lucius Malfoy!" she cried. "Damn him to Hell!"

"After a long and painful death," added Evan.

"It's the confession he made Severus, Alison, and Mordredsign," Florence explained, handing it to Rolly.

"Left right out here for the Ministry wizards to find," said Evan.

"Why?" asked Rolly, stunned.

"Because he enjoys making our lives miserable," said Evan. "Let's get rid of this."

"We don't have our wands," said Rolly.

"Let's stop being helpless purebloods," said Florence briskly. "Rip it up and chew the pieces."

"I stopped eating parchment when I left the nursery," complained Evan.

"I know why Malfoy left this out," said Florence, once she had gummed up her piece of parchment. "He wants to discredit them if they come back."

"Well, it's not very convincing, but when was Lucius Malfoyever convincing?" said Evan.

"I used to think he was convincing," said Rolly quietly.

"Malfoywon't be much in trouble, anyway," said Florence. "His word against Alison's?But now, we're somewhat out of trouble."

Footsteps were heard on the stairs.

"We're up here!" called Florence.

"Don't try to run!" was the response. "And put your hands up in the air! If you use dark magic, we're authorized to use the Unforgivables."

Naturally, the three of them froze where they were standing.