Mysteries

Chapter Three Blackmoore and Hannah

Harry laid in bed staring at the canopy overhead and then rolled his head so he could look out the window. He wasn't sure about anything, but he knew that not going to Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer had been a good idea. Peabody wasn't afraid to say the name Voldemort and seemed to know a lot about everything. Sirius' name rolled off his lips easily as did everything else. It felt like Peabody had a bird's-eye-view of his life. Whereas, he, Harry, had no idea about life. It had narrowed down considerably since he had left Hogwarts for the summer holidays.

He fell asleep thinking about it and dreamed about Dumbledore, Hogwarts and a wild chase through the Department of Mysteries. His last thought was a vision of Sirius' surprised expression, his arms flailing out and the tumble through the veil.

Harry woke with a start and felt his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He reached for his glasses and stopped in stunned panic. Standing at his bedside was a figure of a man, dressed immaculately in dark clothing; a vest with a gold chain crossing the front covering a crisp white shirt. The effect was dramatized by the pressed suit coat and slacks covering a very portly figure. This was not out of the ordinary and wouldn't have caused alarm except for the man who wore them.

Harry glanced up and stared into the face of a corpse.

Harry reached carefully and brought his glasses to his face. His wand was on the far side of the table and to far for him to reach. He didn't think he'd know what to do if he could reach it. The figure didn't move. Harry looked once again. The man definitely was not dead, the dark eyes burned too fiercely in the pale face. However, he was not altogether alive either.

Harry had never met a vampire but he knew that he was meeting one now.

"Master Potter," the vampire spoke with a sophisticated intonation, "will you be having breakfast with Master Peabody this morning or should I bring it to you on a tray?"

"Br...Br...breakfast," Harry managed; breathless.

"Yes," the vampire said and Harry could see the pearl-white tips of very sharp canine teeth. "If you would prefer, I can bring you breakfast on a tray and you may dine in bed. However, I have drawn your bath and Master Peabody waits in his study."

Harry threw back the heavy coverlet and dropped his feet to the cold floor. Only, his feet did not touch cold but a pair of soft, lambskin-lined slippers. He stared at them and looked up to see that the man held a robe for him and was waiting until he slipped it on.

"I will show you to the bath and inform the Master that you will join him shortly," the vampire said.

You must be Blackmoore

, Harry thought. He followed the creature into a large white-tiled bathroom with a white claw-footed tub filled with steaming hot water. The vampire waved his hand over the bath and bowed and walked backward closing the door behind him.

Harry stared at the door for a moment and let the heavy robe drop to the floor. He noticed a cup of steaming coffee sitting on a side table and next to it, folded very precisely, was a copy of the Daily Prophet. He shook his head and dropped his pajama bottoms and stepped into the water. Such things as this were not possible or likely at the Dursleys. For the first time in days Harry leaned back, closed his eyes and slid under the warm water; feeling very calm. He didn't kill me, he thought. He's a vampire and he didn't kill me.

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Harry was led into a large room that would more naturally have covered several rooms. But in this loft, it had taken nearly a quarter of what Harry estimated was the entire floor. Unlike the other rooms he had seen, it was floor to ceiling bookcases overflowing with manuscripts, parchments and dusty books. The wooden floors that shone brilliantly everywhere else were covered with rugs that were badly in need of vacuuming or replacing as they were filled with holes and faded.

Harry noticed that almost all the floor space was covered with heavy old mahogany furniture more in tune with a time a hundred years in the past. Altogether, he was reminded of some of the shops in Diagon Alley or better yet, he thought, Knockturn Alley. He was looking at some of the curio cabinets and their contents and slowed at some of them as he entered the room. Definitely Knockturn Alley, he decided.

Blackmoore stepped aside and waved Harry further into the room. Seated at a round table covered in books and a tea set were two people, Peabody and a woman. The woman, to Harry's surprise, was dressed in muggle clothing; and, very well dressed to boot. He walked to the table and found a chair sitting empty with a place setting waiting for him.

"Harry! Glad you're up and can join us for breakfast," Peabody said. He rose and clapped a hand on Harry's arm. His cheeks were rosy and he was smiling brightly. "Want you to meet an old friend of mine. She's along for the ride and I thought you should meet. Better now than later," Peabody said loudly. "This is Madam LaFoye. We call her Hannah."

"Of course you do, Rolly, that's my name," she smiled and reached up to shake Harry's hand. "Happy to meet you, Harry. Rolly was just telling me about you." She settled back and Harry took a chair.

"See you've met Blackmoore," Peabody mumbled, his teacup to his lips.

The vampire handed Harry a crisp white napkin and then began to lift various silver lids on platters heaped high with sausages and toast. When Harry nodded, a serving of the contents was delivered to a china plate that sat before him. A fresh cup of coffee was poured and sitting besides gleaming silver flatware. He declined sugar and cream when offered by the vampire who wore white gloves and stood to the side as they spoke.

"Now to business," Peabody said. "We'll talk as you eat your breakfast, shall we?"

Harry nodded and started in on his toast.

"Rolly dear, let me explain,' Hannah said. "You have the most confusing way of telling a tale and this young man will be lost in an instant." She smiled over at Harry. He smiled back while studying her. She was an attractive woman, but not beautiful. She had dark brown hair pulled up in a twist on the back of her neck. Harry was surprised at her smooth olive skin and her dark eyes. She had an exotic appearance that he couldn't quite place, probably an eastern influence, he guessed. She had a slim figure and he calculated that she was quite a bit taller than himself. She wore a rose-colored dress cut low in front and wore a ruby necklace with a gold chain that dropped to the cleavage revealed by the dress. Harry's eyes dropped quickly to her hands which were manicured. He wondered if she were a muggle.

At his thought, she smiled at him and said, "I am not a muggle Harry, if you were wondering. I live partially in the muggle world as you can see by my clothes. Anyway, to put things in a nutshell, this old eccentric and I and Blackmoore have this little friendship that we have developed over the years. You might say we are outcasts in the world. I am a gypsy you see," she smiled and touched her red lips delicately with a napkin. "We prefer to be called Roma, that is the name our people use. We are barely tolerated in the muggle world. For the most part we are accepted by wizards and witches as one of their own, but excluded shall we say. Then there is Blackmoore," she looked up as he poured fresh tea into her cup, "he definitely is an outsider. Few people tolerate a vampire for many reasons. However, our Blackmoore was a butler and servant before he was bitten. He chooses to remain that and has served us for many years." She laughed a deep throaty laugh and looked up at him with affection. She glanced at Peabody and watched as he perused the Daily Prophet. "Rolly, my dear friend, is an outsider by his own choosing, and nature, I should say. He is a very accomplished Forecaster and a genius."

He glanced up and smiled back at her. "Why, thank you dear."

She nodded and sipped her tea. "Rolly knows Dumbledore and the events that have been taking place. I'm sure you know that a Forecaster's life is devoted to tracking events in the world. The sum total of Rolly's life work is forecasting and he has served the needs of many, including Dumbledore. Most notably he has been a advisor to the Ministry-the Department of Mysteries, for years."

Harry's heart skipped a beat and he stopped chewing and swallowed. " Is that how you knew about the prophecy?' he asked.

Peabody frowned. "Those dusty old prophecies! I heard you smashed almost the whole lot of them. Good riddance, I say!" He threw the paper to the floor and it was immediately picked up and folded by Blackmoore and set next to Peabody's plate.

"Harry, Rolly doesn't work for the Ministry, or for anyone else. I said he was an advisor. That doesn't imply that anyone ever offers HIM information." She said it with an amused expression and was watching her friend's reaction.

"You've got that right Hannah!" Peabody said with some anger. "Bloody scoundrels they are. Always taking credit for my efforts."

"Why don't you teach at Hogwarts any longer Professor?" Harry asked and then said, "sorry, I mean, Peabody."

The man looked up in surprise, "Oh because I taught the Dark Arts, Harry. I was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and I taught the Dark Arts. One cannot defend oneself properly unless one knows what one is defending against." He mumbled something and picked up the folded paper to spread it wide in front of his face.

Harry sat staring at the paper blankly.

Hannah jumped in. "That's why we think of ourselves as living on the fringe of the Wizarding world... and perhaps on the fringes of the muggle world, too. You see Harry we move between the two worlds. And I think we do so with some...finesse." She picked up her tea cup and held it, once again smiling. "What Rolly isn't telling you is that he believes the events in one world affect the results in the other. So he keeps track of both." She was smiling kindly at him. "He has ruffled some feathers in the wizarding world because they've always been worried that he'll expose them. They are so...concerned that he'll be foolhardy."

"What you mean to say Hannah, is that they think I'll turn into another Lord Voldemort," Peabody dropped the papers. "You see Harry, if you study the Dark Arts, people tend to believe that you'll employ them. And they're just bloody afraid that they'll be found out by the muggles. Why Cornelius Fudge went out and served the information up on a platter for the Prime Minister. Did anyone concern themselves about that?!" Peabody yanked the papers back up in front of his face.

Harry was beginning to get a sense of just how eccentric Humphrey Peabody really was and was slightly amused by it. He turned to Hannah and asked, "What do you do?"

The black eyes were shining with merriment and she almost giggled to Harry's amazement. "I run a little shop, Harry." She stood and Harry noted that he was right, she was tall, probably close to six feet. "I have an unusual shop. Depending on what side you're on, the front opens into the muggle world and is called Madam LaFoye's Occult and Magic Shop. In that shop, I sell herbs and lotions and potions, mostly just harmless stuff. Sometimes, I give tarot readings and palm readings. When you step through the curtain to the back of my shop you enter the one that opens onto Knockturn Alley. That one is called Madam LaFoy's Apothecary. In that shop you can find some of the rarest of items called for in a number of recipes for incantations and spells. I am well known there and well-thought of even though it is situated in a very dark place." She began a circular route through the furniture to the bookcases, moving from one to another, her cup in her hand.

"Yes, she is well-thought of," Peabody said laying his paper aside. "The Roma are some of the most admired and respected witches in the world. Hannah is a gifted witch with many unusual powers."

Harry listened, glancing at both of them.

"Why did you invite me here? I know that I'm here for a reason," Harry said. "You didn't invite me as your guest for a month because I promised to be good company."

"Why did you come dear boy?" Peabody asked frowning.

Harry thought about it. "You knew my parents, and Sirius. You seem to know everyone I know and everything that's happened." He didn't want to put into words the thought that Peabody might have some answers he didn't have. "I thought you might be able to help me, or at least tell me more than I know now." He also didn't want to reveal that he couldn't stand the thought of going back to Sirius' house.

"You've done your research and you know who I am. There's no use in beating round the bush, we're here to teach you the Dark Arts and to teach you how to kill Voldemort," Peabody said.

Harry sat with a piece of toast unchewed in his mouth and swelling up to prevent him from speaking.

Hannah sipped at her tea, her brow wrinkling slightly in concentration. She was standing with a book in one hand and the cup in the other and watching Peabody.

"You...you what?!" Harry finally managed.