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Shaken - Mockridge Townhouse
Author: Nephele Mockridge
Date: 04-11-13 19:42
Nephele called for Ippy as she entered the Townhouse, home far earlier than she should have been for a Monday.
"Yes, Mistress Nephele?" the creature squeaked.
"A small bit of Ogden's. And notify my brother that I may need him home this afternoon," she ordered, her hands and voice shaky as she headed for her own library. The house-elf squeaked his acknowledgement and headed to obey, bringing her the glass with a small measure of fire whiskey in it before notifying the master of the house.
Once the creature had left her, Nephele sipped at the alcohol and then reached for a quill and some parchment. She wasn't sure what she would need after the events of that morning, but she figured it couldn't hurt to protect herself, and sent off a quick note to Blaise Zabini. She was quite surprised when his head appeared in her Floo within moments of sending the owl.
"Miss Mockridge, how may I be of service?" he asked, inclining his head in the green flames.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Zabini," she said, cracks in her normally icy demeanor showing easily to a fellow former Slytherin. "Come through, I do not wish to discuss this across a Floo connection." Within seconds, he was dusting off the soot and sitting across from her. "I find myself in a position where I may need your services," she said.
"What's happened?" he asked, pushing aside the normal societal niceties. After all, this was Pansy's cousin, and someone he respected. There were no need to play games, not with them.
"I've been apprenticing with Horace Slughorn, the former Potions Master at Hogwarts. Professor Snape recommended him as a means for me to get my Potions Mistress license. Last week, I received notice that he might be gone for a few days, but that we would resume today, at our normally scheduled times. When I arrived at his home, however, things were very, very wrong."
"Explain, please," Blaise requested, leaning forward in his seat.
"The living quarters were in complete disarray. Papers were tossed about, the furniture overturned. Dragon's blood was splattered on the ceiling and walls, and old Slughorn would never waste such a valuable ingredient. It looked like someone had thoroughly searched the place. I could find no trace of him, either with sight or with magic, and so I left after checking the rest of the home. Ippy has notified Kirley that I may need him home this afternoon, so we can notify the Ministry of what's happened, but given that I was one of the last people in the home, and had been there on a regular basis, and Alistair's unfortunate death..."
"You considered it natural that you may come under suspicion and decided that consulting an attorney was wise," Blaise finished with a nod. "Contact the Auror department, let them know what you saw, just as you told me. If they ask you to come in or want to do an interview, let me know, I will clear my schedule to be with you from the beginning. You have friends among the Blackguard, yes?"
Nephele nodded. "Yes, my brother recently aided in renewing my acquaintance with Peregrinus Hartcrofte. We've been in contact," she admitted, not at all surprised that Blaise knew that little tidbit. Pansy had always been excellent at gathering the odd bits of information, and she knew the two younger Slytherins had few secrets from each other.
"Good. Once you've contacted the Aurors, contact him as well. There might be a tie in to a case they are looking into, I don't know all of the details, but Grimshaw-Spore's involved and since I'm still officially his attorney of record, I was given a brief notification of the matter," Blaise explained. "If you need me quickly, just Floo or send one of the house-elves. " He got to his feet, bowing slightly as he shook the offered hand Nephele held out. "Get that owl off to the Ministry, don't wait for Kirley to get home. And keep me informed," he reminded as he took a pinch of Floo powder from the pot and returned back to his office, leaving the blonde with her solitude once again, knowing she would do as he advised.
Nephele quickly jotted the information down on a clean piece of parchment, having Ippy send it with one of the fastest owls before she wrote a more detailed, and personal, note to Pippin.
Mother Not
Author: Zabrynna
Date: 04-11-13 20:52
Mariposa and Zabrynna both had a morning class together at St. Emrys after which they each needed to pick up a textbook from the university shoppe. They'd gotten most of their textbooks last week but the professor this morning added one that the bookshoppe hadn't had listed as being required. With this being first day of Hilary Term, the shoppe was crowded with lines long enough that by the time the sisters completed their purchases lunch time was drawing near. Though they neither are finished for the day, Mariposa having one more class and Zabrynna two, they choose not to eat on campus nor in one of the nearby restaurants.
Arriving by floo to a small wizarding tavern in the village of Snitterfield, which is only a few miles from Stratford-upon-Avond where St. Emrys is located, the sisters pause for a moment to allow their eyes to adjust to the dimmer interior and to decide upon one of the handful of empty tables available. There's one at what Mariposa considers the perfect distance from the crackling fire in the hearth no used for the floo, close enough to take advantage of the warmth but not so close as to become as roasted as some of the items on the menu. She points and starts for the table but after only a few steps realizes Zabrynna is following.
Mariposa turns to ask her sister if she'd prefer a different table but Zabrynna, eyes fixed elsewhere starts moving in a direction towards the front wall where there are some tables edging a long window. Following the other girl's movement she see what, or rather who caught Zabrynna's attention.
Zabrynna fairly quickly covers the distance from the floo to the second table along the window but as she nears her steps falter. She has no idea why she came over. Has no idea what she'll say beyond hello. She corrects herself. She does know why she came over. Sitting at the table is her mother and though Margretta has made it clear she wants nothing to do with her daughter, even to the point of insisting she no longer has a daughter, Zabrynna can't help but hope and wish that Margretta will eventually come around. Margretta could be harsh at times but for the most part she was a good mother when Zabrynna was growing up and she has dearly missed having someone to call Mum. That her mum has been nothing but nasty and cruel towards her for a long while now fades away for a second as Zabrynna musters the courage to say that one thing she knows she'll say, hello.
Before she speaks the man with Margretta, the man whose head had just been bent close to Margretta's as words too soft for anyone else's ears to hear were exchanged, notices Zabrynna as he straightens. Eyes widening slightly in inquiry he asks, "Yes?"
Margretta is looking now as well so offering a small smile and taking another step closer to the table Zabrynna almost shyly says, "Hello, Mum."
Margretta's face had tightened at the sight of her daughter, eyes narrowing, though whether in annoyance at being interrupted or anger at being addressed as Mum after declaring she is no longer a mother or a combination of both, Zabrynna isn't sure. In a very controlled, somewhat flat voice Margretta response is, "What do you want?"
A slight shake of the head and a subdued, "I saw you sitting here and wanted to say hello," causes the older woman's eyes to narrow even more and her lips to pull into an angry slash.
"Fine. You've said hello." Margretta looks away, her attention back on the man sitting across from her.
That man looks extremely puzzled, eyes shifting several times between Margretta and Zabrynna. He looks even more confused when after a second Margretta heaves an annoyed sigh. Without looking at Zabrynna again she snaps, "Stop gawking and go about your own business."
"Margretta, what's gotten into you? I've never seen you so rude. Why did this young woman call you mum?"
Margretta gives a dismissive wave of her hand. "It's nothing. She's nothing."
"Mum? Please?"
"Stop calling me that. If you must address me, it's Ms. Mathau."
Mariposa steps in then. "Can you stop acting like child in the midst of a snit fit, Margretta, and be civil?"
"Who is, are they, Margretta?"
"I told you, Flynn, she's nothing as is the other one."
Flynn tightens his jaw, his own eyes flashing with annoyance now. "I find it difficult to believe that someone who adresses you as mum and someone else who knows you by first name are nothing. Why did you tell me you don't have children?"
"Because I don't."
Zabrynna interjects, "Pretending I don't exist, Mum, doesn't mean I automatically vanish."
"Pity that."
"I'm not sure I like this side of you, Margretta. To say it's ugly is an understatement."
Margretta reaches as if to grab Flynn's hand but he's sitting far enough back in his chair now his hand is out of reach. "If you knew what's gone on, honey, you'd understand."
"That's just it. You've not told me anything. I take it this girl is your daughter yet you told me you have no children. How many other lies are there?"
"It's one very small lie, not really a lie at all. I disowned the chit. I do not claim her. In my mind that meant I no longer had a daughter."
"Interesting spin. Are there any sons out there you've also failed to mention?"
"No. What does it matter if I did, technically, bear a child? She's not in my life and, other than this unfortunate encounter, will never be in yours."
Flynn snorts, "You think this is about you having a daughter?"
"Given the fuss you're making, yes."
"You lied, Margretta. Not a lie of omission. If you are have such a troubled relationship with your daughter that you do not acknowledge, I think I could forgive a lie of omission. That you lied when faced with a direct question, a question not only I asked but one I've heard others ask of you, is something else altogether."
Flynn scoots his chair back from the table and rises, throwing some galleons on the table in the process. "When you decide to to stop lying and when you decide to lay this bitter, angry part of you to rest, perhaps we can start anew."
"Flynn, wait."
"Goodbye, Margretta." As he turns to go, Flynn looks directly at Zabrynna. "This has been rather enlightening. I don't know whether to curse you or to thank you." A curt nod to acknowledge Mariposa still standing there then Flynn walks away, ignoring Magretta's continued pleas.
When he's gone, and with others in the tavern still being very quiet so as not to miss the most interesting thing to happen here in a very long time, Magretta too rises from the table. She steps close to Zabrynna, invading personal space. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" she hisses.
"I just wanted to say hello. I couldn't have known he was anything more than just a friend and I had no way of knowing that he didn't know you have a daughter."
Very slowly, distinctly enunciating each word Magretta bites out, "When I have made it clear to you I have no daughter then of course I am going to present myself as childless to those new to my life. Flynn was on the verge of proposing; perhaps not today but very soon. You've ruined that just as you ruin everything. If the relationship cannot be repaired, you will regret whatever stupid little urge brought you over to say hello despite knowing I want nothing to do with you."
Zabrynna blinks back tears. "I can't help that I still love you, Mum, even when you're like this."
"You're a bigger fool than I gave you credit for. I stopped loving you the second I realized you would also be a disappointment and a stain on the family name."
Without another glance at Mariposa, Margretta turns haughtily away, heading for the door. Mariposa can see her through the long window, stepping just past the entrance to disapparate away. She gently takes Zabrynna by the arm, leading her younger sister to the door as well, thinking a side-along apparition would be best.
She takes them back to St. Emrys, certain that Zabrynna wouldn't eat at that point. Mariposa will just make due with some crackers in her bookbag, perhaps grab something later when her class is over while waiting for Zabrynna's second one to let out. She would have just taken them both home to her house in Hogsmeade but this being the first day of term, not showing up for a class would be very poor form. Besides, the excellent student side of Zabrynna will automatically take over once in class and the professor starts speaking, temporarily taking her mind off the horrid encounter with Magretta.
Glad that her class is next door to Zabrynna's first of the afternoon, Mariposa is able to sit with her sister, who's not said a word since the restaurant, until just minutes before both classes begin. One eye on Zabrynna, Mariposa pulls out the two textbooks from the morning's class and starts reading while slowly eating the packet of crackers, and thinking she'll need to tell their father, Nolan, what happened because she doubts Zabrynna will.
A Little Competition
Author: Josie
Date: 04-12-13 03:41
"You have one hour and a half starting now."
The exercise was simple but at the same time a bit tricky. I had divided my class in seven groups of three and each group had a box filled with alchemy supplies, ingredients and some cards with a few questions inside. Their job was to remove everything from the box, identify the supplies and the ingredients, name its use and properties and answer to the questions. All this without consulting the textbook book.
I thought this exercise was good to not only revise what they have learned so far, but also a way for the students to see which areas they needed to study more. Each group would be awarded with points according to their performance.
I walked around the classroom observing each group. Lately I have been worried about Rita Skeeter's articles at the Daily Prophet and I could not help to be afraid she would publish a piece about me. Not that I had nothing to hide, but Rita had the gift to create her own reality. In my nightmares I could picture Connor going to speak to her about my cursed notebook and give her false information about the times we had studied at Hogwarts together. This was my first year as a teacher and I didn't want to be my last. I was really enjoying working at Hogwarts, but unlike most of the other staff I was new and most of the parents didn't know who I was. Rita Skeeter could ruin my career. I tried to put those thoughts aside and I continue to watch my students.
Zuberi Batuti seemed to be arguing with Christopher Chant. They didn't seem to agree if the yellow liquid inside a small flask was troll or ogre's urine. Perdita Drawlight looked at it with disgust. Another group that only had female elements was constituted by Aleydis Vanderbilt, Catriona Amherst and Jill Prewitt. Jill was writing down their answers in a piece of scroll. The girls seemed confident.
But there were some students who were struggling. Mark Farnon, Errol Anderson and Wiggy Hodfuffer were looking clueless to one of the cards with the questions. Mark suggested they should skip that one and try to focus on the next one. The others agreed.
"One hour left."
The group constituted by Daniel Gelson, Hunter Rabnott and Julietta Wynbourne seemed to know all the answers and they were working very fast. But I noticed Olive Green sighing in frustrating, as Jack Emerson and Marjani Batuti looked at one of the plants studied in class without having the slightest idea of what it was called. But then suddenly Jack exclaimed victorious and he instructed Olive to write down the name of it. I smiled because he got the answer right.
Time kept passing as the groups worked together. Finally the bell rang announcing the end of the class. I collected each group's scrolls with the answers and I promised to let them know soon how many points each one had won. I knew this sort of exercise would attract more the youngest students, but I thought a little bit of competition would please my students. I watched them leaving the class, telling them we would revise today's contents next week.
Statement
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 04-12-13 17:51
Hermione's footsteps seemed to echo unnaturally loudly in the corridor of Level 10 at the Ministry of Magic, where she was due to give a statement in one of the courtrooms during the trial of Monika Clapp, the maintenance witch who had murdered half a dozen Muggle-born patients over the course of many months at St. Mungo's Hospital. That Ms. Clapp would go to Azkaban was no question. Hermione's testimony was only for the official record.
Other than seeing the murderess face to face, Hermione did not feel nervous about speaking before the Wizengamot. Public speaking, even under scrutiny, was not something that fazed her very much. It certainly helped that she wasn't the one on trial, nor would her statement seal Ms. Clapp's fate one way or the other.
Before leaving for the Ministry of Magic, Hermione had gone to the Burrow to leave Rose in the care of Molly. Ron was also working today, and Hermione had already stopped by his office to visit with him. Since it was already towards the end of the work day––Hermione's testimony likely being the last on the court's agenda at least for today––she would more than likely meet with Ron again so that they could floo to the Burrow together. No doubt Molly will insist they stay for supper, which suited Hermione just fine.
She slowed her steps to a stop just outside the courtroom door, where an official stood waiting.
"Mrs. Weasley?" he asked, double checking the scroll on the clipboard he carried.
"Yes, should I go in?" Hermione asked.
"One moment."
The courtroom official slipped into the room, where Hermione caught part of someone's dialogue. When the door clicked shut behind the official, Hermione heard no more. A few minutes later, the official returned with one of the nurse's on Hermione's floor at St. Mungo's. They exchanged polite smiles, before the nurse was directed down the hall and Hermione was escorted into the courtroom.
The room was almost oval in shape, with tiered seating overhead where the Wizengamot sat in their regalia. An occupied chair was positioned on one side of the oval on the floor. An empty chair stood on the other side.
Hermione gave Ms. Clapp, who was bound to her chair, only a quick glance before taking a seat in the other chair.
"Please state your full name for the court," stated the presiding member of the Wizengamot.
Hermione took a deep breath and replied in a clear voice, "Hermione Jean Weasley..."
Sirius's Turn To Be Skewered By Skeeter
Author: Sirius Padfoot Black
Date: 04-14-13 16:21
"Knock, knock."
Sirius beckons Remus Lupin into his office, rising from behind his desk. "Hello, come in. Have a seat. Drink?"
"What have you got?"
Sirius gestures to the side table where he keeps a few beverages, using his wand to open cabinet doors beneath. "Pretty much anything you might want."
"That butterbeer will do quite nicely, thanks."
"I wasn't expecting you but I think I can guess why you've stopped by."
Remus untucks a folded newspaper from beneath one arm. "It's a wonder that woman took so long to get to you."
The Daily Prophet's Tuesday headlines is THE SALACIOUS, SAVORY, SORDID SINS OF SIRIUS BLACK.
Sirius gives a derisive snort. "Salacious my arse."
"Well, I don't know. This cavorting with someone purported to be Veela is pretty juicy," Remus humorlessly chuckles.
"Isn't it nice how Skeeter conveniently left out the bit where that Veela is my wife of eight and a half years? And, in actuality, she's only part-Veela. Neither Drucilla nor I were aware that was common knowledge."
"Not that difficult to suss out. I mean, she does have Veela blood. Men tend to notice, which, by the way, is actually in your favor. I think that's something Skeeter forgot. Men can't help themselves if a Veela doesn't want them to."
"True, but try explaining that to students who to their knowledge have never met a full blooded Veela doing her thing."
"I could see where that might be difficult, and annoying after a it's been brought up countless times through the day. Has anyone mentioned other parts of the article?"
"Some of the younger ones who aren't as aware, or were unaware entirely, of my time in Azkaban have asked about what it was like there all those years. They've asked did I really kill all those people to get sent to prison."
"Ah. Yes. Another pertinent detail not included in the article. No mention of the real culprit at all or the circumstances surrounding Pettigrew's actions."
"A few newer students who are Muggleborn have asked who Harry Potter is," Sirius says with a very slight smile.
"That is hard to grasp, isn't it? That there are people now in the Wizarding World who have no idea about Harry or Voldemort or any of that whole awful, painful mess."
"It is hard to believe, yes, especially when for some of us the memories haven't faded. Also hard to believe is the way Skeeter slammed me for having once been an unregistered animagus. She's one to talk." Sirius and Remus know about Skeeter's own ability because a few years back Hermione had told the members of the Order about Skeeter being able to turn into a beetle."
After a pause Sirius adds, "I wouldn't mind coming across her in bug form."
"The urge to squash her would be hard to resist," Remus acknowledges.
"I think I'd do worse. Capture her and put her in a charmed terrarium from which she couldn't escape and where she wouldn't have the room to transfigure back without risk of serious injury."
Remus chuckles again, this time with humor though it's a dark laugh. "Yes, that would be horrid for her. I think I'd come visit your house more often just to watch her madly trying to find some crack in the charm, some way out."
He drains the dregs of butterbeer from the bottle. "You seem to be handling the article well."
"It's all old news. I don't know how the parents are taking the accusations of bullying but so far the students seem to have shrugged it off since I was a kid then as well. It's no secret I can still be impatient or that I have a temper. The attitude I've seen about regarding those tidbits have been big bloody deal. My stay in Azkaban, what sent me there, the breakout, the revelation of the truth, all that's a matter of public record. The only truly annoying part of that article is making me out to be someone who's repeatedly cheated on his wife; and, I'm more annoying at that for Dru's sake than for mine."
Remus gets up, placing the empty butterbeer bottle on the corner of Sirius's desk. "Still, I wasn't sure if I should expect you to be frothing at the mouth to go after her. As you do not seem to be, which means I won't have to find some way to restrain you until you cool off, Dora and I would like you, Dru, and the kids to come over for dinner tonight. We know it's short notice."
"I don't think that will be a problem, but let me stick my head in the floo and ask Dru."
A minute later Sirius confirms with Remus the Eternal-Black family will be to the Remus household for supper. Sirius walks Remus to the main castle doors, asking how the first couple of days for the new term at St. Emrys is going.
Seeing Double
Author: Bronwyn Dewhurst
Date: 04-15-13 10:10
"It's too bad I have to go back to work," Bronwyn murmured over the cup of steaming fruit tea she held in both hands for warmth.
She and Toby were at Brews and Stews Café in Hogsmeade. The facility wasn't terribly busy, since it was only mid-morning and far too early for the lunch crowd.
Since Bronwyn started work at six in the morning, her lunch hour tended to fall around brunch-time. Usually, that wasn't a problem because it meant no long lines and quick service, but some restaurants didn't open until later, resulting in limited choices for dining out.
Toby normally had practice this time of day, but a good many of his teammates had fallen ill to some sort of bug. Most were recuperating at home, but a few had gone St. Mungo's for observation. Toby had somehow lucked out and not gotten infected, or at least he hadn't shown any symptoms of the bug yet.
"You only have half a day to go and then you're free, with still plenty of the day left for shopping or whatever else you might like to do," Toby reminded her with a smile.
"Still, it would be nice to be sent home because all my coworkers are sick."
"I'm not sure that applies to your line of work," Toby commented, still grinning. "The show must go on, but there can't be Quidditch without a team."
Bronwyn stuck out her tongue and then turned to the remainder of her sandwich and cheese-flavored crisps. She'd also eaten a cup of tomato bisque soup.
Toby, meanwhile, ate the last spoonful of sweet potato soup from his bowl and then paid the tab for their meal. He walked Bronwyn out of the café and onto High Street, where it was unpleasantly chilly thanks to the fierce wind. He saw her all the way to the WWN Headquarters and then, after giving her a parting kiss, disapparated for Diagon Alley.
He had promised the owner of Quality Quidditch Supplies that he would sign some posters and other promotional material for a contest the shoppe was holding for its customers. Diagon Alley was a little bit busier than Hogsmeade had been, but the windy, wintry conditions kept most wizards indoors where it was cozy and warm.
Toby stepped into the Quidditch store and made his way to the counter, where he inquired after Mr. Georgias. The wizard was in the back room, inventorying recent stock orders. Mr. Georgias emerged wearing shockingly orange robes with the Chudley Cannons logo on the left breast. The bright robes stood out in sharp contrast the rest of the colorful merchandise on the store's shelves. Toby jokingly remarked that there seemed to be a conflict of interest, since he himself played for the Falcons.
Mr. Georgias laughed boisterously and escorted Toby into the back room, where he handed him a quill and some ink and set him to autographing various items. Sometime later, Toby exited the shoppe while massaging his aching right hand. He had signed his name so much that the latter autographs looked sloppy and somewhat illegible. Mr. Georgias had assured him that even the worst of his signatures would interest Toby's fans.
Toby made his way to The Leaky Cauldron, thinking he might get something hot to drink before making his way home to Greenwich. He slowed to a stop in front of the quill shop when a familiar scent assailed his nostrils. A smile touched the corners of his lips and he looked around, spotting Bronwyn standing in front of the shop window at Amanuensis Quills. She had her back to him and didn't seem to know he was there.
Toby slinked up to her and put his arms around her middle, burying his nose where her shoulder met her neck.
"And here I thought you weren't going to skiv off work," Toby murmured into her perfumed skin. "I guess I shouldn't have mentioned shopping."
The witch turned her head, and it was then that Toby realized she wasn't Bronwyn at all. It was Maybelle Evans.
Toby let go of her and took a step back, holding up both hands apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Maybelle. I thought you were someone else."
Maybelle smiled at him and shrugged. "No worries, Toby. I suppose it's better you got me and not some complete stranger!"
Toby cracked a small grin. "Yeah, I guess you're right. That would have been even more awkward."
He quickly appraised her appearance, and while it occurred to him then that she wasn't wearing the same outfit Bronwyn had been when they'd gone out for brunch, Maybelle's body type, hair color and style, and the perfume she wore, which was the same one his wife favored, made her look almost like Bron's double. The resemblance, at least from the back, was remarkable.
He smiled sheepishly and said, "Sorry again. I have to go."
Maybelle smiled at him, gave a little wave of her hand to suggest he not concern himself with his mistake any further, and then turned back to the shoppe window.
Toby, meanwhile, walked swiftly to the pub.
Searching
Author: Lysander Stratford
Date: 04-15-13 11:06
The Restricted Section in the library at Hogwarts was a place Lysander had only been granted access a handful of times during his seven years as a student at the school. It had always held a sense of mystery and intrigue for him, being a place few students were allowed to enter and containing the most interesting and powerful books. Even when Lysander had worked on the collection assessment for Professor Snider, he had found the Restricted Section the most fascinating of all the sections in the library.
Over the years, the various headmasters and librarians had accumulated a great many of one-of-a-kind books, not to mention rare or virtually unknown books on a variety of subjects. There were books Lysander wished he could acquire for Twice Told Tales or his own personal collection, but which he knew he would likely never find other than on the shelves at Hogwarts.
His reason for offering his consultation services to Azaelia Blackheart was two-fold. Despite the discomfort he'd felt at being mentally undressed by Harriet Snider every time they'd crossed paths, Lysander had truly enjoyed working on the library collection. He also thought taking on the project would help him take his mind off his troubles.
The other reason Lysander had wanted access to Hogwarts was because he didn't know where else to start searching for the Resurrection Stone. The extensive library collection might contain a reference or two to the stone and its whereabouts. Hogwarts was also where Dumbledore had spent a great deal of his life. Although Lysander had no reason to think that Dumbledore might have had the stone or known where it might be, the fact that Adriana had gone out of her way to kill the Hogwarts headmaster puzzled him.
All Lysander could think of was that Dumbledore had been like a human encyclopedia. He had known something about everything, but had not simply been a jack of all trades. Whatever knowledge he'd had on a subject, however insignificant, would still have been useful. Maybe Adriana had asked him about the stone and then eliminated him to protect herself and her future plans.
Lysander knew he could cease some speculation by asking Adriana directly. How much she would tell him, he didn't know, but he suspected she had no idea where to begin searching, or she would have no doubt given him a path to follow. Whatever the case may be, starting at Hogwarts made sense for Lysander… at least for time being.
"All right there, Lysander?"
He looked up from the worn, leather-bound book he held open in his hands. Other than wear, the cover and spine were unmarked. The thin, almost translucent title page on the inside read: Legendary Wizarding Artifacts in Folklore and History.
"Yes, thanks," Lysander said.
Azaelia smiled. "You looked like you were deep in concentration. I wasn't sure if I should disturb you, but I wanted to let you know that I just made a pot of tea if you want a cup."
"Thanks," Lysander said. "Maybe later."
"Sure." Azaelia made her way back to the front of the library, leaving Lysander to scan the pages of the book in private. It discussed many relics from wizarding legend, some of which Lysander knew from stories, others of which he didn't know at all. The Resurrection Stone did not receive a mention. Disappointed, he returned the old book to the shelf.
He ran his index finger along the spines of the other books on the shelf and stopped when he reached the end of the row. Lysander suddenly felt the weight of the magic mirror in his pocket and lifted it out, staring into the polished obsidian for a glimpse of Charlotte. He nearly dropped the mirror when he saw her staring back at him.