The Virtue of Decision

The small door slammed shut behind them, sprinkling dust and dirt down from in between the floorboards overhead. The tunnel stretched out before them, its end vanishing into the murky darkness ahead.

"This way," Isabella murmured quietly, her voice shaking slightly as she grabbed hold of Curio's sleeve, urging him forward. "Keep quiet until we're clear," she hissed, hurrying down into the depths of the tunnel.

The slivers of light that had shone down from in between the floorboards quickly vanished as they walked past the confines of the cottage. Soon the tunnel was covered in an impenetrable cloak of darkness; forcing them to slow their retreat to a steady shuffle.

"I think we're far enough away," Isabella breathed into the darkness, her voice echoing off the earthen walls. "Lumos," she instructed as a small beam of light flared to life at the tip of her wand; piercing the darkness and coating the tunnel with a soft glow.

"We've still got a ways to go," she murmured, sniffling slightly as she turned to face Curio. "Give me Juno," she demanded softly, silent tears making their way past her stoic exterior.

Curio handed him over gently. "I...I'm sorry..." he said quietly.

"What for?" she muttered, as she started walking again; Juno cradled snugly in her arms. She turned slightly. "Could you carry those?" she motioned to her discarded belongings that sat on the ground.

He frowned, leaning over to pick the bags up; but kept silent. They walked on in silence, the packed earthen floor slowly turning to mud, and then standing water, as they continued on.

Curio fought to keep his body from shaking as the cold air pressed down upon his soaked clothes. He breathed a small sigh of relief as the water receded, giving way to a stone floor.

"We're almost there," Isabella said quietly, quickening her pace.

"Almost where?" Curio asked, a hint of aggravation seeping into his voice as he shivered uncontrollably; his teeth chattering slightly.

"A friend's," she muttered, pausing as the dirt overhead suddenly turned to wooden planks. "There's a door up there somewhere. Help me find it," she insisted, carefully cradling Juno in one arm as she shone her wand towards the ceiling.

Curio set the bags down on the ground, squinting in the dim light up at the floorboards. "Whose house is this?" he asked, running his hands over the rough planks.

"I told you...a friend's," Isabella muttered in reply, scanning the ceiling with her eyes, as she could not reach it with her hands. "Light your wand too, it's too dark in here."

"No...it's fine," he insisted, avoiding her gaze.

She frowned at him. "No, it's not. Light your wand."

He shifted uncomfortably, searching for the door with a new sense of urgency. "I can see fine," he muttered, his face burning at the thought of having to do a charm in front of her. "Ah! Here it is!" he cried happily, as his fingers brushed over the indent of the door.

She shifted Juno in her arms, staring up at the faint outline of the trapdoor. "Push it open," she instructed. "You'll have to pull yourself up and then I'll hand Juno up to you."

"All right," he replied quietly, placing his palms flat on the center of the door as he pushed upward. "I think...I...got it," he exclaimed, nearly falling over as the door popped open, slamming roughly onto the floor of the room above.

"Easy," Isabella grumbled, shielding Juno from the shower of dust.

"Hey, if you want to do this yourself..."

"No. No, just," she sighed. "Just pull yourself up."

He frowned, staring up at the darkened room above. "Looks like nobody's home."

"It's their basement," Isabella replied, clearly becoming irritated. "Don't worry, just pull yourself up."

He continued to frown, reaching his arms up and curling his fingers around the edges of the opening; pulling himself up into the darkened room, wincing slightly from putting so much pressure on his hand. "You know this is breaking and entering, right?" he asked quietly, turning to reach down for Juno.

"I sure do kid," a gravely voice grumbled from behind him as the room was suddenly filled with a glaring white light. "Why don't you show him what we do to thieves John," the voice said calmly, as Curio strained to see against the sudden glare of light.

"I'm not a thief, I'm just..." he started to insisted, but was cut off as a pair of hands shot from the blinding light and wrapped themselves tightly around his throat; lifting him off the basement floor and shoving him roughly up against the wall.

"What should I do to 'im mama?" a deep voice asked enthusiastically, his grip tightening on Curio as he tried desperately to escape. "I could pop his head off like a dandelion."

"Sounds good to me, John. What about you, kid? You think that's a good idea?"

the gravely voice asked, clearly amused at Curio's frantic struggling. "Not so tough now when he's wriggling like a worm on a hook, is he, John?"

"Never looked that tough to me anyway, mama."

"Hmm, yeah, he is a bit skinny, isn't he...must not be eating enough. Probably why he's trying to steal from us. That it boy? You stealing food? Or is it money you were after?"

"His clothes look too nice for it to be money, mama."

"Well isn't that something, John? A thief wearing his dress robes to a burglary."

"Probably stole those robes too, mama."

Curio struggled franticly, kicking out his legs and clawing at the man's hands; his head becoming lighter as his two assailants prattled on as though nothing was wrong. The light glared down on him angrily, blinding him. The calm voices around him began to fade, as though they were now talking from far away. His legs began to settle, as his energy seemed to seep from his body. A high pitched cry sounded in the distance, different from the calm tones of the other voices; he forced himself to listen to it, straining to understand the words.

"Bea! I'm down here! It's Isabella!"

Curio fell to the ground roughly, as the hands released their grip.

"John, come help me get Bella out of the tunnel!" the gravely voice insisted urgently.

Curio coughed uncontrollably, trying in desperation to breathe in air. He curled onto his side, sputtering for a breath; his eyes pinched shut against the light.

"You didn't kill him did you?" he heard Isabella ask, her voice barely hinting at concern.

"Oh, he'll be fine," the gravely voice replied flippantly. "What were you doing down in that tunnel with a burglar anyway?"

"He's not a burglar Bea, he works for the ministry."

"Oh," Bea breathed, before chuckling slightly. "Well isn't my face red," Curio listened as footsteps crossed the floorboards towards him. "You all right, kid?" she sat down beside him, resting her hands on his trembling shoulders. "Just breathe in slowly."

He did as he was told; coughing slightly, but soon regaining a steady, if slightly shaky, breathe. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting past the harsh light, as he gazed up at Bea, who smiled down at him warmly.

"Well there ya go, that wasn't so hard was it?" she laughed, leaning over to help him sit up. "For crying out loud kid, you're soaked to the bone."

Curio tried to speak, but couldn't get out more than a squeak which sent him into another fit of coughing.

"Don't try to talk boy, give that throat a break," Bea insisted, leaning him against the wall before climbing back to her feet. "John, you pick him up and bring him upstairs. Bella, you bring that baby of yours up too, we'll get all three of you fed and into some nice dry clothes."

Isabella nodded slightly, standing beside Bea as she laced her fingers with the older woman. "Thank you," she murmured quietly, a tear tracing its way down her cheek.

"Oh, don't think twice about it dear," Bea replied, offering her a warm smile. "Now, come along upstairs, and you can tell me all you're troubles."

John heaved Curio over his shoulder, who coughed in response. "Sorry I hurt your friend, Bella. Mama and I thought he was a burglar," he said, making his way towards the stairs.

"It's all right John," she replied quietly, adding quickly. "And he's not my friend."

~****~

A fire burned lazily in the old stone hearth, flames of orange and yellow gently curling around the smoothed bottom of a large pewter cauldron. The potion inside bubbled slowly, filling the small bedroom with the comforting smell of lilacs. Curio laid at the center of a large sleigh bed; worn patchwork quilts piled atop him. He lifted heavy eyelids, gazing around the small room, as he shook off the groggy affects of sleep.

"Well good morning sleepy head," his eyes opened wide at the sound of a particularly gravely voice, the same voice from before. "Thought you might never wake up," she leaned forward in her chair, sliding out of the shadows that hid her slight frame. Her hair was streaked with the dark color of her youth, standing in sharp contrast to the wild mane of curly white hair that struggled to be loose from the braid she held it in. Her eyes were a crystalline shade of blue, sparkling with a hint of mischief that the many laugh lines surrounding them only perpetuated.

"Wh-what...time is it?" he asked, wincing at the pain speaking caused.

"Not sure. Don't believe in clocks, don't need some machine telling me when it's time do anything. I'm my own clock," she chuckled, pushing herself to her feet as she made her way over to the hearth. "It's Curio, right?" she asked, stirring the contents of the cauldron. "Bella said you're name is Curio."

He nodded slightly, watching her cautiously.

"Well, Curio, you can call me Bea," she poured some of the potion into a small cup. "Sorry 'bout earlier, John just doesn't know his own strength sometimes," she chuckled again, slowly walking over to the side of his bed. "Here, drink this," she insisted, holding the cup out to him.

He frowned slightly, looking down at the pink liquid. "Wh-what's...in...it," he managed to squeak out, taking the cup in slightly shivering hands.

Bea rolled her eyes, carefully lowering herself into the small chair beside the bed. "It'll warm you up and help your throat," she replied. "Not the trusting sort, are you?" she asked, sighing as he looked back down at the cup but still didn't drink. "Look, if you would rather keep shivering like that, it's no skin off my back."

"All right," he rasped, sighing slightly before slowly sipping the potion; coughing as it slid past his sore throat, but sighing quietly as the potion sent warmth through his body and eased the pain in his throat.

"See," she smiled. "Better already, isn't it?" she reached out to take the cup back, pausing as her gaze fell upon his hand. "Did John do that?" she asked quietly, pointing to the bruises that lay scattered across his skin.

He quickly pulled his hand from view. "No, no I...I fell last week," he lied, his voice already growing strength from the effects of the potion.

"Uh huh," Bea mused, looking thoughtful. "You fell?"

He nodded, avoiding her gaze. "Aye."

She pursed her lips, the wrinkles on her face scrunching slightly. "Onto a wolf's teeth?"

He blinked, looking up at her. "What?" he asked meekly.

She straightened up in her chair. "A wolf...a werewolf if you want to get technical, boy," she eyed him curiously. "Bella said you helped bring Juno in," she lowered her voice, her mouth set in a firm line. "He bite you?"

Curio shook his head no. "No, course not," he replied.

Bea sat back sighing. "Don't lie to me...there's nothing I hate more than a liar."

"I'm not lying..." he murmured, avoiding her eyes.

"Mhmm," she let go of his hand, pushing herself to her feet as she wandered over to the side of the room, where a myriad of jars lined several sets of shelves. "Well, if Juno didn't bite you, who did?" she asked, pulling a jar down. "And don't go telling me no one, 'cause I've seen my fair share of werewolf bites, and that..." she set the jar back. "Is a werewolf bite," she wandered back to her chair, carefully sitting back down. "Give it here," she insisted, taking his hand in hers. "They break the skin?" she asked, turning his hand over.

Curio shook his head no, still avoiding her gaze. "I had gloves on," he replied quietly. "And the nurse double checked."

"Good for her," Bea mumbled, lying his hand flat on the bed. "You need to keep this wrapped, boy," she started to wrap his hand gently. "Magic can only heal so much, you still need to take it easy for a little while," she tapped his hand with her wand, murmuring a charm underneath her breath. "Magic isn't a miracle," she leaned back in her chair, eyeing him with suspicion. "Just helps the natural order of things move along."

"Thank you," he said quietly, staring down at his hand.

She smoothed a few stray curls away from her face. "You're welcome," she replied flatly, eyeing him. "I know you don't want to incriminate Juno further," she said, holding her hand up to silence Curio before he could interrupt. "But don't lie to me again," she raised her eyebrows. "Understand?"

He nodded slightly, mumbling a quiet. "Yes."

"Wonderful," she exclaimed, slapping her knee enthusiastically. "I'm glad we're clear on that," she stood up again, crossing the short distance to the hearth. "You hungry?" she asked, stirring the potion. "Bella is making lunch if you are, she's a decent cook," she crumbled a dried herb into the cauldron. "Not as good as me of course," she shrugged. "But she insisted on cooking, said it was the least she could do," she laughed. "Of course I told her, no, the least you could do is nothing...but, well, you know Bella, always has to have her way, that one," she turned back to Curio, who was looking curiously at the wall of potions ingredients.

"Ya like potions, Curio?" she asked, motioning towards the wall. "I'm the local apothecary," she smiled. "My family has been for hundreds of years," she lost her smile. "Course, don't know who will take up the position when I'm gone," she turned back towards the cauldron. "I love John, but...well he's not up to the job," she smiled sadly, before brushing her hands together and turning back towards him. "I think it's good for a family to pass a trade down through the generations, don't you?"

He shrugged slightly, poking absently at his bandaged hand.

Bea smirked, meandering back to her chair. "I suppose something like that wouldn't have much importance in your family," she mused, lifting an eyebrow in question.

He continued to avoid her gaze, muttering sarcastically. "Our reputation precedes us."

She chuckled. "Indeed it does," she smoothed the winkles on her robe. "I went to Hogwarts with your grandfather actually," she added wistfully. "You're named after him?"

"Unfortunately," he grumbled, memories of the bitter old man causing him to frown.

Bea laughed again, clearly amused. "Oh I think it's a fine name," she waved her hand dismissively; seemingly unable to sit still for more than a few seconds. "Even if it is attached to such a horrid man," she blinked, raising her hand to her mouth, covering a smirk. "Oh, would you listen to me, how rude, I should never have said that..."

"You can say whatever you want about him," Curio replied quietly, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers; the tiniest of smiles now visible on his face. "I don't mind."

She lowered her hand, her smirk melting into a warm smile. "Well good for you, boy," she said quietly. "You don't need to live in the shadow he's cast on your name...you make it your own."

He stared back at her in silence, unsure of what to do or say; the profound meaning behind such a simple statement catching him off guard. "Thanks," he mumbled, eyeing this stranger with a certain sense of bewilderment.

Bea smiled again, patting his good hand gently. "No thanks needed, boy," she said quietly.

"Lunch is ready, if...oh, you're awake," Isabella stood in the doorway, her hair falling down in large strands from her ponytail; and her robes were covered with a light dusting of flour.

"Yes, and doing much better I might add," Bea exclaimed happily, climbing to her feet. "All in thanks to me of course," she crossed the room to the doorway, frowning at Isabella's floured state, dusting some of it off her shoulders. "Good heavens Bella, what did you cook?"

"Juno got into the flour," she sighed, brushing a smudge of it off her cheek.

Bea laughed, shaking her head. "Boys will be boys," she turned back to Curio, as if a thought just popped into her head. "Oh, you're robes are still drying," she pointed to a bureau at the far end of the room. "You look like you're about my husband's size," she explained. "You can borrow one of his old robes, they're right in there."

"Thank you," Curio replied quietly.

"Oh you're welcome," Bea said, waving her hand dismissively, taking hold of Isabella's shoulder as she steered her from the room. "Now what is it you said you cooked..." she prattled on as the two women headed into the kitchen.

Curio pushed the quilts back, shivering as the air touched his skin. The floorboards creaked under his feet as he made his way over to the bureau. Several cloaks of brown and black hung on carved wooden hangers, a slight covering of dust clung to the fabric as Curio pulled it down. He dressed quickly, surprised at how well the garments fit; and slowly made his way into the kitchen.