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Lots of Spots
Author: Hermione Granger
Date: 11-02-14 09:42
When Hermione went in to work after the weekend off, she found the hospital teaming with law enforcement personnel. It wasn't unusual for there to be members of law enforcement hanging around if a criminal or even one of their own were injured and in need of medical attention, but that sort of thing didn't happen terribly often. Excitement levels seemed extra high this morning, however, especially with the press lingering about too.
Hermione knew what all the fuss was even before she stepped foot in the door because she read The Daily Prophet religiously. She had heard about how Ethan Somerset had gotten picked up by authorities after appearing in Hogsmeade village, looking like someone who had just spent ages roughing it in the wilderness. There was great speculation as to where he had been and what he had done, particularly with the rumor of a body found at the bottom of the cliff.
It turned out that Ethan was a patient on Level Four as the alleged victim of the repeated use of the Cruciatus Curse. He was not one of Hermione's patients, so her only knowledge into his state of being came from the gossiping nurses and healers on her floor. The few who worked with him directly said very little, even though it was obvious they wanted to tell all.
Hermione received a chart for a new patient, an elderly woman who claimed she had contracted dragon pox, though it had already been determined that she her wand had backfired while she was dusting her house, causing lots of colorful spots to appear on her exposed skin. The witch, who wore her silver hair in a bun and wore half-moon glasses on a chain around her neck, looked at Hermione as she entered and declared, "I keep telling them I'm in the wrong ward. I'm contagious, you know."
"Sorry, Mrs. Gamp. You've just suffered a jinx that should clear up with little trouble."
"Sweetheart, you look very young. Are you sure you are a trained healer?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Now, hold still. I'm going to try something on the spots on your arm."
Mrs. Gamp reluctantly held up her arm, which Hermione gently held on to with one hands while pointing her wand at a bright blue spot the approximate size of a knut. The incantation seemed to do the trick, and the spot faded away, revealing normal-looking skin underneath.
"Hmm…" Mrs. Gamp murmured, still not convinced Hermione knew what she was doing.
Hermione erased a few more spots and satisfied with the results, wrote down the treatment onto the patient's chart. "I'll have a nurse come in and finish up, all right?"
Mrs. Gamp folded her arms over her chest and said, "Very well, but if you come down with dragon pox, you only have yourself to blame!"
Hermione offered the elderly woman a smile and slipped from the room. On her way back to the nurses station, she couldn't help but notice the law enforcement hanging around. What she also noticed was the absence of Leigh Buchanan.
Leigh had been a fixture at St. Mungo's lately. Whatever temp job she had taken seemed to have morphed into a full-time position. Every time Hermione turned a corner, Leigh was there. They bumped into each other in the lifts, in the break room, and even in the bathroom.
Hermione didn't think Leigh knew that she had met her twin brother Linus, or that she had overheard Linus show concern for whatever tricks Leigh might have up her sleeve. As much as Hermione hated to admit it, though, Leigh did seem to be on the up and up. Maybe she was good at covering her tracks, or maybe any worry Hermione and Linus had about Leigh really was unfounded. Hermione didn't want to let down her guard, but at the same time, there was no proof that Leigh was anything like Liza.
A commotion near the lifts drew everybody's attention. A reporter tried to sneak by but was abruptly intercepted by law enforcement, who seemed to have a trained eye for unwelcome guests. Hermione was as drawn to the commotion just like everybody else, but it was over in the blink of an eye. She had a feeling today would be a day full of distractions.
A Hastily Arranged Meeting
Author: Abdul Hazrat AlGunud
Date: 11-02-14 15:06
"I tell you the Harpies are the worst. Who in their right mind would support such a team? An all-witch Quidditch team? What is the world coming to? The only thing I can say is the word harpy is an apt description for them. The resemblance is quite unmistakable!"
The applause for the speaker was enthusiastic if not particularly loud. Not surprising given the paucity of crowd at Pedro's this time of day. Only die-hard supporters would show-up for the speaker, thus guaranteeing a friendly audience. Or mostly friendly. A few of the club's patrons did not applaud. They were either regulars or those who had business at the club. Roger Chainson counted himself as one of the latter. He certainly was not here to listen to the speaker, who seemed to be getting a second wind from the attention of the crowd. Roger seriously doubted that anyone in the audience knew (or cared) that the Holyhead Harpies had been founded in 1203 and was as storied an institution as any other Quidditch team in Britain.
"If we are not careful, we run the risk of degrading our grand traditions. Soon we might be no better than a pale shadow of the Muggle world; whose ideas those in power wish to ape. The Holyhead Harpies represent all that is wrong the Wizarding world today!"
Roger did his best to ignore the speaker. He idly perused a scroll. It contained questions about some outstanding accounts payable. To the casual observer, he was simply another club patron sipping his drink. Inside, he was impatient and increasingly worried. His contact was late. In addition, this meeting had been arranged too hastily for his taste. He had taken the standard security precautions; however, meetings in half-empty clubs were all too likely to attract the wrong sort of attention. He had not lasted this long by taking unnecessary risks but the demands for information regarding the Death Eaters had increased. Naturally, his fees had increased as well. Thus far the client had been more than willing to pay, hence this meeting.
Movement caught his eye. An individual in a jade green robe, spotted with orange polka dots was ducking through the entrance. Roger winced internally. Did the man have no sense of taste? Or was he simply color blind? The only positive aspect was that it made him easy to spot. The sartorially challenged wizard glanced about and, upon seeing Roger, made his way over to the out-of-the-way table. For his part, Roger stood and shook hands.
"Mr. Butler, thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice."
"Not all, Mr. Chainson. My apologies for the delay. I had to deal with a problem that our import staff could not address."
"Of course. Shall we be seated and get on with business then?"
Without further ado, they sat and began to go over the list of accounts on the scroll. It served as an adequate cover for the purpose of the meeting. No one paid them the least attention. After thirty minutes, they stood, shook hands again and parted ways. The client insisted on paying for the drinks. Roger did not object. Given how much the individual was charging for information, it was the least he could do! Roger privately resolved to arrange future meetings differently. He did not particularly care to listen to misogynistic drivel. And some things were more important than money, such as his freedom and his life. If the Death Eaters caught wind of his spying, then all the money in the world might not save him.
Second Chances
Author: Rowan Westwick
Date: 11-02-14 15:59
Ever since Lon Irwin found her in the library on the very first day of term, Rowan wound up sitting next to him in their various classes when there wasn't a formal seating chart, in the Great Hall at mealtimes if not with her siblings, or at the same table in the Commons or the library. He never went so far as to ask her out or anything, but Rowan could tell he liked her. His comment about liking older women was only the first of many such compliments.
Rowan had never thought about Lon at all until that day in the library, and the more she got to know him, the more she found she liked him. She was just glad that he was taking things slow. She hadn't dated anybody, well, ever. She'd never even been kissed.
With a past like hers, she figured she would never date anybody, especially with Rita Skeeter's article making her sound like a supreme evil in the making. At least Lon didn't care or believe about any of that. He liked Rowan just as she was.
They sat next to each other in Arithmancy & Divination and copied down the homework assignment Professor Sacheverelle announced at the end of the class period. They were dismissed shortly thereafter.
On the way to the Great Hall, they ran into Beatrix. She wasn't taking Arithmancy & Divination, but her new best friend Cate was enrolled in the class. Cate walked ahead of the pair and was also on her way to get some lunch. Beatrix shot Rowan a nasty look and then hurried to catch up with Cate. They linked arms, and Beatrix shot another dark look at Rowan over her shoulder.
Lon noticed and remarked loud enough for Beatrix to hear, "Someone's got her knickers in a twist."
Beatrix tensed at the comment but didn't look back. If anything, she pulled Cate along faster so that the distance between them and the other pair increased.
Rowan shook her head. "It's not even worth a discussion."
"You two used to be attached at the hip. Whatever happened must have been significant for her to attempt striking you down with just one look."
"In her eyes, yes, but it's really gotten beyond ridiculous."
Lon shook his head. "Girls. I don't know why we try understanding you."
"Because you like the challenge?" Rowan suggested, a grin touching the corners of her lips.
"Right," Lon replied, grinning.
They continued on at their leisurely pace, and eventually Beatrix and Cate moved completely out of sight. Rowan sighed and said, "I used to think I was lucky, having a friend like Beatrix. But now I realize it wasn't meant to be. I shouldn't be here, not now, not like this."
"That's not the right way to look at it," Lon said, shaking his head. "You've been given a second chance. It's time to live life to the fullest. If you ask me," he went on, "it's her loss… and my gain."
Rowan felt a blush creep over her cheeks. "I don't know what to say," she finally said.
"Say you'll sit with me at lunch."
"Okay."
Lon beamed. "See? We're off to a great start."
Looking for a Job
Author: Tiberius Nott
Date: 11-03-14 03:27
"Please have a sit, Mr. Nott."
Tiberius did what he was told, after shaking hands with Mrs. Charlotte Cabot. It was still strange for him to wear his hands uncovered, without the leather gloves that used to hide his cursed skin. Now his left hand had recovered its usual complexion and it was adorned by a family ring with the Nott's crest on it.
"I have analyzed your resume very carefully and I am afraid there is nothing I can do for you, Mr. Nott."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, for a start have omitted your stay in Azkaban. It would be difficult for the Ministry of Magic to hire someone in your position."
"I was there for less than a week and I was declared innocent of any crimes. When the Aurors came to my family's house they arrested everyone; the trials happened later and I was not even submitted to one because it was clear I had no fault in my family's criminal actions. I am sure there is a report somewhere about all that."
Mrs. Cabot searched the parchments on her desk and she nodded when she found out that what Tiberius was saying was true. He still remembered that day, when all his family had been arrested, with the exception of Titus, who was still very little. They were all sent to Azkaban as they waited for trial because they were considered very dangerous, but it didn't take long for Tiberius to be freed because he had no part on his parents and family's actions against Muggles and other wizards.
"It is good to know that you are not a criminal after all, Mr. Nott," Mrs. Cabot told him, letting go an anxious giggle. "But you must understand that even if I excluded your criminal record you are not suitable to work in the Ministry of Magic."
"And why is that?"
"The grades of your NEWTs: almost all of them are below average. And that is not all: you also do not have any past working experience. You could have low academic results but if you proved yourself to be a hardworking and committed employer then perhaps you could join our ranks. But since you never worked before in your life there is no possible way for us to take a leap of faith and hire you."
Tiberius looked around making sure there was no else around Mrs. Cabot's office. Then he took a pouch filled with galleons and placed it on the witches' desk.
"I am not picky. Any department here in the Ministry will do. However I can be even more generous if you secure me a higher rank position."
He saw the glint of indecision in her brown eyes. But it only last a second. With determination, Mrs. Cabot pushed the pouch of galleons aside.
"Mr. Nott! Put that money away or I shall call the security at once. Bribing someone to work at the Ministry of Magic is a crime and you could be severely punished for doing so. Do you wish to go back to prison?"
Tiberius did what he was told. His plan didn't work out as he was expecting and he now doubted that he would have the chance to work at the Ministry of Magic Not even in the department of Magical Maintenance or even as an Atrium worker. He stood up having nothing else to say to Mrs. Cabot. However, she was not done:
"I am sure you can find a job in another sector. I know they are hiring personnel at McMerlin's in Diagon Alley…" He shot her a furious glance. Did she really think that a wizard like Tiberius Nott would have such a lower job? "Or maybe you could repeat your NEWTs. Hire a tutor, someone who can help you. I am sure if you obtain higher grades you will have more chances to work here."
Mrs. Cabot offered Tiberius a kind smile and wished him a good day. He marched out of the Ministry of Magic and went back home. After breaking the curse with Phyllida's help (a process which he did not like recall and tried to forget), the two of them took separated ways. Tiberius went to visit Casper and Cecelia, wishing to take Titus' belongings back to Endhope Abbey. Now that he was a new man, free from the curse, he had the right conditions to take care of his brother properly.
But things did not go as he planned. Casper had learned of Lucinda's death when a portrait of her appeared at their mother's house. He reported the death to the Ministry of Magic, and since Lucinda had given his brother and his wife Titus' guard, the Ministry approved the decision making it official. Since Tiberius was nowhere to be found that summer, it has been an easy process to change Titus' guardianship. Tiberius knew that Casper suspected he had killed his mother, but he did not seem to mind so. Just like Phryne he too seemed grateful to see Lucinda gone, because now he could have what he had always wanted: a son. He had seized the moment when Tiberius was gone to legally take care of Titus' custody.
Exasperated, Tiberius went to consult with a lawyer who explained to him that just because he was back the Ministry of Magic would not simply hand Titus back to him. Tiberius had no job, the house he lived belonged to his father, he had not given any proofs whatsoever of being a good role model to Titus. He used to spend his time at Petals, his isolation from the rest of the world was a concern, and there were evidences of excessive drinking. Tiberius had to change his image if he wanted to get Titus' guardianship back. On the other hand Casper and Cecelia were happily married, they had a solid business and a house and they cast a good image to the exterior. Tiberius did not doubt they wanted the best for Titus, but Titus was his brother and he was the one who should take care of him. Finding a job at the Ministry of Magic, something that would give him some prestige, had been a flop and now he had to think and ahead and figure out what to do next.
A Proposition
Author: Elladora Kingsley
Date: 11-03-14 11:02
"I hate slumming it..." Elladora muttered under her breath, the moisture turning to wisps of steam on the chilly night air. It may have seemed like a lofty statement to be certain, but the woman making said statement gave it breath of truth. Her long, blonde curls were piled loosely atop her head where they were pinned with various jeweled combs. Her long, green dress was velvety, intricate designs crushed into it that caught a contrast with the light, adding another level of elegance to her visage. Her nails that curled about the stem of a wand were manicured to perfection. The wand in question was elegant in turn. Burled maple. 11 and 3/4 inches. Unicorn hair. Slightly springy.
The Muggle world was not to her liking in the slightest. She could count the number of times she'd been here on one hand and was no pleased to make the number any larger. The cobblestone streets were slick with rain, bringing out the motor oil on its surface. It caused an enhanced glisten of the streetlamps against its stones as well as an unpleasant smell of toxicity that made Elladora sneer. "Filthy..." she added as she moved toward the alley adjacent to her.
She stumbled on her high heeled boots as she stepped onto the curb, causing an indignant squeak to emanate from her cloak. A tiny, brown nose peeked out over her shoulder as well as a beady pair of glistening, black eyes.
"Hush, Anguirus. We'll be gone soon," she assured the creature.
It chattered happily as it emerged to sit atop her shoulder, finally revealing itself to be a ferret. It lifted its head to sniff the air, whiskers twitching wildly. It suddenly caught wind of something that startled it as it then dove back into the safety of her cloak.
Elladora was wondering what had gotten him so upset when the sound of footsteps echoed out of the alley. Emerging from the shadows was a figure in long, black robes. Their hood was up, completely obscuring their face. The only visible skin at all was a single hand of spindly, gnarled fingers that grasped the walking cane he carried.
"You're late," she offered, folding her arms.
He tisked at her from under the hood. "I apologize... but it was quite important a stop."
She rolled her eyes and breathed out through her nose, a haughty expression altogether. "Your letter said that you had a proposition for me?"
"Indeed I do," he replied, his voice a warm spill of smooth Kings English and venom. "You want your family's honor restored, do you not? Their part in the persecution of Muggleborns was... oh... distasteful to say the least..."
Elladora got the distinct feeling he was smiling under that hood. "Go on," she prodded, allowing him no reservations in knowing he had her attention.
"I need an item that you will get for me. In return... I will help you."
"Vague. But do go on."
"You will go to Hogwarts and take up a position there. You will then wait for further instructions."
Elladora frowned and shook her head. "No, no. You see, THAT would involve reconciling with my estranged sister. Celeste and I are... not on speaking terms."
"You will rectify that, then. I feel it is not beneath your... talents," he spieled, pointing at her.
"Are you referring to me as manipulative?" she asked, one eyebrow cresting high. He merely chuckled. "Well... at least you know the company you keep," she admitted drily.
"Then you will go?" he pried.
"I find a little bauble for you and in return you wipe my name clean? Seems hardly fair to you, but if you are willing then I am your witch."
He held out his bony hand imploringly. "Give me your hand."
Elladora looked curious, extending her hand to him. He took it, yanking it forward and wrestling it over. He produced a wand, pressing the tip into her forearm. She watched as a veining of black snaked up her arm beneath her skin, with it a searing pain that made her eyes water. "What have you done!" she demanded, yanking her arm back.
"An insurance policy, my dear. One can never be too careful," he explained.
"What SORT of insurance policy?" Elladora growled.
"You have one year from this night to make good on your promises to me. If you fail me, I will simply allow that curse to kill you. If you want me to reverse it, then make me proud, dear heart." He turned to go, seemingly leaving her at that. "Oh... " he paused, looking over his shoulder, "and if I find out you have betrayed me, I will let it run its course MUCH faster than you anticipate. I will NOT be made a fool."
Elladora turned away, hurrying off into the night. She looked at her forearm, now as smooth as it was minutes ago. There was no trace of the curse save his promise. The fear was in her eyes as she stopped to catch her breath a few blocks away. She looked up to the moon, pursing her lips. She took that moment to collect her thoughts.
She knew it would be difficult to reconcile with her sister, but if her cards were played correctly then she knew Celeste would cross hell to defend her. She hoped. She could bank on that. But then there was the next challenge he had laid before her. Hogwarts...
Under Guard while in Hospital
Author: Ethan Somerset
Date: 11-03-14 18:04
Ethan lay in his hospital bed at St. Mungo's and stared at the wall. Over and over again, the events of his bid for freedom played in his head. He saw himself ram into his mother's back, watched her arms windmill as she tried to stop herself from going over the edge, and heard her ear-piercing scream as she fell to her death. Why Maren Somerset's end grieved him so much, he didn't know. She, along with her husband and a few others, had made his life difficult.
But, for a long time, she had been the only mother he'd known, and she had also been a loving mother. Ethan remembered all of the good times, and though he now knew his mother's intentions had been false all along, he had believed she loved him at the time. His childhood had been very happy.
Ethan hadn't meant to kill her. He'd only meant to break free of his prison.
After the horror of seeing his mother's battered body on the rocks at the base of the cliffside, Ethan had dragged his own body into a more populated part of the village, where he had collapsed. He'd woken up in the hospital a short time later. At first, his attendants had only been healers and nurses seeing to his care. Then law enforcement came in to barrage him with questions.
He found himself having to tell the same story over and over again to different wizards, who asked variations of the same questions as if to see if he could keep his story straight. Deep down Ethan knew they were trying to suss out whether he really had joined Adriana Fairchild, but the more questions he answered time and time again, the more frustrated he became.
He had been down this road before. He had been under a cloud of suspicion, and for valid reasons, but hadn't expected the level of scrutiny he now found himself in. Couldn't they see that he had been a victim?
The hospital door opened, and Ethan turned his head, half-hoping it would be Aveline with Lilly, but it was Jaiden Peters. She pulled a chair over to the side of the metal-framed bed and sat down, crossing her legs and resting a notepad in her lap.
"How are you holding up, Ethan?" Jaiden asked, looking genuinely concerned.
"Physically, I feel much improved," Ethan said. He let the rest go unsaid.
Jaiden sighed. "I'm sorry, Ethan, but you know we have to check you out very closely. With your history, and all the rumors swirling about… we just have to be sure."
"I understand, I really do," Ethan said. "It's just incredibly frustrating. I was kidnapped, Jaiden. I was held in a cave, where I was tortured daily. I plotted on getting out, which I suppose is how I finally did, but I was never sure if I would survive. They could have killed me easily, and maybe they would have, given enough time."
"Did they ever say anything about Fairchild?" Jaiden asked.
"No," Ethan said, "but where else would the three of them be holding up? Five, counting my parents. I never saw my dad the entire time, but my mum…" He stopped, picturing her falling over the side of the cliff again.
"Why do you call them that? Mum and Dad?" Jaiden asked.
"I don't know," Ethan said. "She made it clear I wasn't her son when I was first sent to Azkaban all those years ago. I guess it's part habit, part…" Again, he trailed off, hearing his mother's scream as if she were there in the room with him.
"I need to ask you some questions," Jaiden said, deciding it was time to get down to business. She readied her quill and asked, "Did you see Adriana Fairchild during the time you were off the grid?"
Ethan swallowed yet another sigh and answered the question, trying hard not to sound annoyed or insolent.
(Adriana) Seclusion
Author: Bill Weasley
Date: 11-04-14 15:06
With the impending birth of her heir near, Adriana sequestered herself in her quarters, but not before tasking her followers with various errands in order to keep them busy and entertained. Only Alexander and Natalya knew of her condition. Adriana had little concern that either would reveal her secret. Natalya took her role as Adriana's substitute Ivanova and favorite very seriously and would do nothing to jeopardize her good standing. Alexander need only think of his precious daughter's well-being in order to keep his mouth shut.
While waiting for the child to be born, and rather impatiently, for Adriana had many plans she wished to take on and couldn't in the interim, she passed the time reading the newspaper and keeping up with current events. Natalya also keep her abreast of the goings-on in the compound and gave updates whenever another follower had something to share.
The latest gossip came both from the Daily Prophet and the female Ivanova. Several headlines in the last few editions declared the mysterious reappearance of Ethan Somerset, thought to have joined the Death Eaters. The articles were all badly written and full of wild speculation. One article declared Ethan had run off to join the Death Eaters and become Adriana's lover. Another suggested he had decided to replace her as leader of the dark wizards. All of it was laughable––
––except for the part where Maren Somerset, who up until recently had been living at the abbey with her husband while on the lam in the real world, had turned up dead and supposedly by Ethan's own hand.
Natalya confirmed that Maren had not returned to the abbey since leaving a few days ago on an errand of some sort. Her husband Dorian was enraged and called for vengeance. Nero, Meadow, and Hattie all seemed extra irritable.
The discord within her ranks was enough to set Adriana off, but as much as she wanted to call for order, she much rather wished to stay in seclusion. She reminded herself that everything would be well within her control again very, very soon.
Mirror Mirror
Author: Harry Potter
Date: 11-04-14 20:20
Standing waiting to board the boat to Azkaban, Harry watches the large, churning white capped waves. Overhead, heavy, dark grey clouds flash with lightening. Hard to believe he's just come from bright sunlight.
Patting his pocket to ensure the item is there, Harry steps onto the boat, asking, "Is it safe to cross with the storm?"
"No worries, mate. We're protected."
Having no choice but to go forward at this point Harry sits, eyeing those waves, glad he's never experienced seasickness. It could happen he supposes but as he's never had it before he should hope that would be the case now. With one hand on his pocket, the round object pressing against his palm through his robes, and one hand hanging onto the boat, they set off on the crossing.
As the small craft is battered by the waves, he wishes the prison had a small spot for apparating or a single Floo conduit. He understands the reasons against even the Floo but that doesn't keep him from thinking it wouldn't hurt just this one time. A bolt of lightening near enough to smell the ozone has Harry fixated enough on the thought of a single Floo conduit being created just for his use today before being closed that the rest of the crossing seems to pass more quickly.
Once there, Harry finds that though the passage from the mainland to the island was short, with the way the boat bobbed about in the storm, he's got a momentary sensation of rubbery sea legs. He takes a moment before walking up the path to the prison where he's soon undergoing the strict entrance protocols. The item in his pocket is inspected, earning him a quizzical look before it's returned. He also gets a very odd look from the guard who's been ordered to return Harry's wand, something almost never done until the visitor is exiting Azkaban.
The warden himself has come to meet Harry, escorting him to a cell that sits alone on a short corridor. It's one of the solitary cells, away from other prisoners. "In here."
Harry enters ahead of the warden who looks on as he opens what looks like nothing more than a woman's makeup compact. Placing it onto the floor, Harry steps back as does the warden. Harry points his wand, transfiguring the compact back into a full length mirror. A woman's visage appears, peering out at them. She moves, becoming fully visible. Her glare is so hard as to be almost tangible.
The warden produces his own wand and holds it at the ready as Harry performs the incantation to release Euphemia Smythe-Jones from the mirror. Stepping free, the woman sneers at Harry. "You be sure and tell Shacklebolt I'm still waiting on a legal trial."
Smythe-Jones has voiced this on more than one occasion when visited, enough so that Harry doesn't bother replying. Compared to much of what she spouts, this is one of her milder remarks.
Harry transfigures the large, heavy mirror back into the small compact. Much easier to transport that way. Smythe-Jones eyes the warden, clearly not thinking much of him. She looks to Harry again. "Now that I'm out of the mirror, I'll be free of here soon enough. I'll have to come pay you a visit, Potter. A little birdie told me you have children now. I'd love to meet them."
Not showing any ire, Harry taps the compact. "Watch yourself, Euphemia. Easy to put you back in the mirror and tell Minister Smythe-Jones it broke in transit."
The warden hides a smirk. Smythe-Jones sniffs disdainfully. "You don't have it in you, Potter."
"That's what Voldemort thought just before I killed him. She's all yours, warden."
Harry steps from the cell and waits for the warden. A female guard who'd been waiting outside the cell enters. She and the warden are both with Smythe-Jones a few minutes before the warden rejoins Harry. The man leads Harry out of the maze that makes up this section of Azkaban, along the way talking about seeing Ginny and the Holyhead Harpies in a recent exhibition match.
When outside once more, Harry scowls when seeing the storm is worse. As the boat shoves off from the rocky crag that is Azkaban, he wonders where exactly is the demarcation line where apparating is allowed once more.