Trials and Tribulations

Trials and Tribulations - Chapter 6


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They Were Beautiful
Harry glanced about his office, wondering if he had forgotten to do
anything.  He had owled Hermione to tell her that he was off to Wales
on Snape’s instruction; he had left a note with his personal assistant
to give to Fletcher, his boss.  Harry grinned thinking about what
his face would look like when he read it and then frowned, wondering if
he would still have his job when he returned.  The note had said,
‘you know how you’re always saying I need a holiday?  I decided to
take one.  I won’t be more than two days – I can’t afford to be. 
Janine has been instructed to deal with anyone looking for me, so don’t
worry.  See you soon - Harry.’  He took one last glance around
his office.  He had a reasonable sum of money – wiz wizarding and
muggle – in his et, et, the case file and both of his wands.
Right.  Off we trot!
Harry walked to his fireplace and took a pinch of floo powder from the
pot on the mantle.  He threw it into the fire, watching as the orange
flames leapt and changed colour.  He stepped forward into the fireplace
and turned to face back out towards the room.  “Diagon Alley,” he
said in a clear voice.
The world spun around and around, and Harry felt ever so slightly queasy. 
He had been travelling by floo for the past seven years but he still wasn’t
used to it.  Still, he kept his eyes open and watched the various
rooms whiz by, waiting for the jolt that would tell him it was time to
jump out.
There it is!
Harry lurched forwards, instinctively reaching a hand out to steady
himself.
“Hey!”
Harry’s fingers closed around cloth and his body shunted against something
firm - something firm and warm.  Something Harry couldn’t see because gla glasses had disappeared.
A hand grasped Harry’s forearm and hauled him properly upright. 
Harry became dimly aware that the firm, warm, clothed something was probably
a person.
“Here, you dropped these.”  A male person.
Harry felt a pair of wire-framed glasses pressed into his hand. 
He glanced down at them before sliding them onto the bridge of his nose,
snapping the world back into focus.  He looked up into a pair of smirking
blue-green eyes.  “Um, thanks, uh…”
The man’s smirk widened.  He removed his grasp on Harry’s arm and
instead held out his hand.  “Dave Sidan.”
Harry smiled, “Thank you, Dave Sidan,” he took the hand and shook it
firmly.  “Sorry, I don’t travel by floo well.”
“That’s OK.  I don’t think anyone does.”  He looked down and
withdrew his hand slowly, a small smile playing on his lips.  “And
as a general rule I don’t usually complain when good looking young guys
jump out at me from fire places.”
Harry’s eyebrows raised and he smiled nervously.  “Thank you…I
think.”
“The next portkey will be to Graigwyn from station booth two. 
Repeat, portkey to Graigwyn from station booth two in three minutes,” said
a tinny, nasal voice.
“Oh, that’s my portkey.”  Harry started glancing around the crowded
station area for ‘station booth two’.
Dave’s lips quirked into a slight smile.  “Well, maybe I’ll see
you around…”
“Obsp;bsp; Potter, Harry Potter.”  Harry went to offer his hand,
before remembering they had already done the hand-shaking and turned it
into a brush of his hand over his hair.
Dave smiled and nodded.  “I’ll see you around, Potter.”
Harry nodded, smiled and headed off for the portkey booth.  As
he dodged through the crowds, he thought how very odd it was to have heard
such Snape-ish words in an American accent.
Typical, Harry.  You meet a nice guy who pays you a compliment,
picks up your glasses for you and stops you falling flat on your face,
and immediately you start comparing him to Snape.  Time for the men
in white coats, Potter.
He stepped into the booth and noticed, with no little surprise, that
he was one of three people there and that one of the other people was the
portkey attendant.  He placed a finger on the fake gold carriage clock
and waited, watching the clock on the wall.  Clocks in portkey booths
were really very clever.  The hands would change the space they moved
to fit in with how long it would be until the next portkey left.
Three…Two…One…
Harry felt a pull behind his navel and the station and noise around
him dissolved into an endless grey.  The floor de-materialised and
re-materialised beneath his feet.  The greyness around him became
darker and points of warm yellow light appeared at intervals around him. 
The air around him became colder and damper.
“Thank you for travellinth Dth Daigon Alley portkeys.  Enjoy your
stay,” said the same tinny, nasal voice.
Harry looked quickly around him.  He was stood on a small, circular
wooden dais in what appeared to be a cave.  The walls were black,
damp and rough, like the walls of the underground chambers of Gringott’s. 
The only sound he could hear was that of water dripping.  Snape hadn’t
been lying when he said that not many people used the portkey station much
anymore.
“This way, please,” said the attendant.
Harry’s head snapped around to watch him as he turned and stepped off
of the dais onto a stone walkway.  Harry frowned.  That was unusual. 
They were surrounded by water – a vast underground lake, with the stone
walkway meandering its way across the inky water.  Harry followed
the other visitors to Graigwyn, looking around him.  The only light
down here was given from flaming torches attached to the cave walls, the
light of which reflected off the glassy surface of the lake.
Harry pulled his light summer robes closer about him.  The air
was colder and damper here than back in London.  The walkway n
tn
to widen out, stretching away to either side until it formed the bank. 
Harry took a moment to look back the way he had come before continuing
to follow the party down a stone corridor.
After walking for about a minute the corridor opened out into an entrance
hall, of sorts, which was flooded with cold, bleak sunlight.  It flooded
through a great wall of clear crystal.  The light refracted off the
imperfections in the crystal and spread rainbows over the darker walls
of the cave.  It also showed a distorted view of a gloomy, grey-clouded
sky peeking over green mountaintops.  Harry frowned.  It had
been beautiful, warm sunshine back in London.
He walked towards the great wall.  There was a wizard stood roughly
at its centre, dressed in uniformed robes.  He tipped his pointed
hat as Harry drew nearer and spoke in a thick Welsh accent, “Welcome to
Gran, sn, sir.”
“Uh, thank you.  Am I OK to go?”
The man smiled and nodded.  “Yes, sir.  Just walk through
the crystal.  There shouldn’t be anyone about on the other side.”
Harry raised his eyebrows slightly and nodded.  Security was really
lax in these parts.  “Thanks.”
The uniformed guard tipped his hat again and Harry inspected the wall
before him briefly.  It didn’t look any different from the rest of
the wall, but then he supposed the wall behind the Leaky Cauldron didn’t
really look any different when there wasn’t a doorway in it.  He sighed
heavily and walked forwards with purpose…
…Straight through the wall and out into the rain.
“Urgh!”  Harry wrinkled his nose and fumbled through the larger
pockets transfigured into his jeans for his cloak.  He knew he had
brought it for a reason.  He unrolled it from its neatly folded status
and shook it out, before wrapping it tightly about his shoulders and pulling
up the hood.  “Better, at least.”
Harry ta moa moment to see where he was.  He stood on a roughly
made road with grass growing in the middle of it.  Turning around
he saw that he had just stepped out from the side of a mountain. 
He took a few more steps back.  Quite a big mountain.  It was
half covered in heather, and Harry was sure that it would be quite pretty
if the weather were a little more pleasant.
Looking to the right, he saw that there was a small tavern-style pub
about a qur ofr of a mile away.  To the left was what looked like
a farmhouse building not too far away, complete with sheep and a rusty
metal gate.  Leaning against the gate were three people in multi-coloured
rain macks.  Harry resisted the urge to go straight to the pub and
indulge.  Instead he walked purposefully towards the small group of
people.
“Excuse me?”  On closer inspection, Harry saw that the small group
consisted of a teenage girl and boy, and a man with a greying beard.
The boy frowned at him.  “Esgwsodoch fi?”
The girl gave him a calculating look, before flicking a damp lock of
dark brown hair over shoulder and speaking to the boy, “Bachgyn Saes,”
she rolled her eyes.  “Siarad Saesneg, Dewi.”
“Um…” Harry was at a loss.  He dimly recognised the language as
Welsh but had never been taught it.
“How can we help you, boy bach?”
Harry looked at the man and smiled, relieved.  “I’m looking for
a house called Somewhere Cottage.  I don’t suppose you know where
it is?”
The man’s face darkened.  “Now what would you be wanting with a
place like Somewhere Cottage, good boy?”
Harry frowned and drew breath to say that he was getting something for
his friend, who lived there, when the girl interrupted him, “Tha’s a witch
house you’re looking for.  Ain’t nothin’ round there but bad spirits
and a load of weeds.  You don’t want to be pokin’ aroun’ there.”
The girl was looking him up and down with big green eyes.  Harry
smiled weakly.  “A witch house?”
She smiled at him and nodded.  “Nasty cottage.  Only need
to go near it an’ you get a nasty feeling right through you.  Gives
me the willies just to look at it, sometimes.”  She shuddered for
emphasis, before smiling at him again.
That would figure, he thought.  The wards would do that
to anyone without Snape blood.
boy boy beside her bristled visibly and scowled at him.  “It’s
up that way.  No more than ten minutes’ walk.”
Harry smiled and nodded his thanks.  He turned to go but the girl
rested a hand on his shoulder.  “Wait a minute,” Harry paused. 
“You should pick some rowan and take it with you.  It’ll keep the
witches from you.”  She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially,
“wouldn’t want a nice boy like you getting carried away by witches, would
we?”
Harry smiled weakly at her, “Thank you.”  He nodded again to the
group, before making off in the direction the boy had pointed out, muttering,
“although I’m far more likely to let the wizards carry me off.”  He
smiled to himself as he walked, head bent against the wind.
The boy had been right, it took no more than ten minutes to walk there. 
Snape had also been right that he couldn’t miss it – or mistake it. 
The squat, slate-built cottage before him with the dusty little glass windows
and over grown weeds could only belong to a man who spent all his time
in a dungeon bent over cauldrons.  Although it looked a little small…
Harry opened the wrought iron gate and stepped over the threshold. 
The Sanguinis charm must have worked, he didn’t feel any ‘evil spirits’. 
He walked up along what he supposed must have once been a garden path,
although it was heavily ced wed with weeds.  The front door was roughly
covered in flaky green paint and adorned with an ancient brass knocker.
“Hmmm.  I wonder…” Harry pulled up the knocker and let it drop
once with a harsh thud.  The door swung open, as if by magic. 
Harry smiled triumphantly to himself and stepped inside.
His eyes widened
“So this is Snape’s house.”
*****
“Weasley.”  The aristocratic drawl elongated the ‘ee’ sound, reminding
Ron of the way Draco used to say it at school, just before he’d come uith ith a witty jibe at his family’s financial situation.
“Mr Malfoy.”
Lucius didn’t bother to sit up.  “How are you, Weasley?”
Ron’s eyebrows raised slightly.  He was stood as close against
the barred wall as he could get, shifting from foot to foot.  There
had always been something about homicidal lunatics that made him nervous. 
Particularly ones that had been left to stew in Azkaban for a month or
two.  That place could turn the sanist pers bit bit nutty.  “I’m
very well, thank you.”
Lucius nodded vaguely and closed his eyes again.  Ron sighed. 
“The hearing was today, Mr Malfoy.”
A frown marred the delicate pale features.  “Goodness.  Is
it Thursday already?”
“Yes.”
Lucius smiled vaguely.  “Time does fly when you’re having fun.”
“Right, yeah.  Um, well the rest of the trial has been put back
two days because the defence didn’t know about the new charge.”
“Pathetic excuse!”
“Well…not really.”  Ron noticed that Lucius’ head was turning slowly,
and there was a firmly placed scowl on his face.  “But, that’s not
the point.  The point is your testimony will be required in three
days.”
“That’s Sunday!”  Lucius beamed triumphantly.
“Yes.”  Ron frowned and shook his head as though clearing the thoughts
of how very bizarre this situation was from it.  “Will you still be
able to testify.”
Lucius sat up slowly and levelled his gaze on the red-head.  “Weasley,
are you questioning my competence?”
Ron smiled, somewhat falsely, “No, no, no.  Of course I’m not. 
I was just making sure.  Have to do these things.”  Ron cleared
his throat, “well, I suppose that’ll be it, then.”
Lucius nodded vaguely and reclined back on his bunk, gracefully. 
Ron nodded to the Dementor to open the door.  He paused half way through,
and turned back to Lucius.  “Oh, and Mr Malfoy?  I thought you
should know – Harry Potter is leading the defence.”
Lucius smiled dreamily.  “Yes, I do know.”
Ron was slightly surprised.  The reason he had left this little
tid-bit of information until he was half-way through leaving was because
he was reasonably sure Lucius would throw a wobbly, to put it lightly. 
“You know, it surprised me to find out that Snape had been abusing kids
in his class.  I mean, surely he’d have to give it ait about a kid
to knock him about.”  He grinned at Lucius, “but then, Draco always
was his favourite.”
Lucius, lying with his arms crossed across his chest and his eyes closed,
smiled slyly.  “Oh, you’d be surprised.”
*****
Christmas Day, 2003 - Austria
Lucius Malfoy was one of very few people who never woke up gradually. 
His eyes shot open and he immediately took in his surroundings, recalling
the events that had brought him there.  His face relaxed into a lazy
smile and he sat up, stretching like an over-grown blonde cat.  “Good
morning, Severus.”
Snape didn’t even look up from the trunk he was rifling through. 
“Is it?”
Lucius chuckled and swung his legs over the side of the large four-poster
bed, standing in one fluid movement.  He walked over to stand behind
Snape, looking over his shoulder into the trunk.  “Dropped into your
usual yule-tide gloom, I see.  Excellent.”  He dropped a kiss
onto the taller man’s shoulder before wandering off in search of some clothes.
“I assure you, the day has nothing to do with it.”
Lucius rolled his eyes, standing up straight and regarding his reflection
in the mirror.  He ran his fingers experimentally through his long
blonde hair, wincing as they met tangles.  “It’s no use, Snape. 
You know I like you best when you scowl.”
The Potions Master looked up and raised an eyebrow at Lucius’ bare
back.  “Not this morning, Lucius. I am going to be flayed by the Dark
Lord if I can’t find this sodding potion.”
Lucius raised his eyebrows.  “Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t really.” 
He walked back over to Snape and peered into the trunk.
“I assure you he would.  Aha!”  Snape gave a small smile
of triumph and pulled a blue crystal phial out of the trunk.
Lucius’ eyes however, were on something quite different.  He
reached a hand into the trunk and pulled out a small, leather bound book. 
“Severus?  What’s this?”
Snape looked at the book distractedly.  “Make it bigger and
I might be able to tell you.”
Lucius picked his wand up from the dresser and pointed it at the
book, “Engorgio!”  The book grew until it was twice the size it had
just been.  Lucius read the title aloud, “’The Complete Works of Miry
ry
Potions Research – 2003’.  I didn’t think that one was out yet.”
Severus frowned and took the volume from Lucius’ hands.  “It
isn’t.  Are you sure this is mine?”
Lucius shrugged lightly.  The movement looked odd coming from
such an elegant man.  “It was in your trunk.”
Snape flipped open the cover and noticed a brief inscription. 
Familiar handwriting.  Oh…bugger!
Lucius was quick to read over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. 
“Anyone I know, Snape?”
“A student.  Idiot boy.”
Lucius smiled slowly and took the book out of Snape’s hands, placing
it on the table, before sliding his arms around his waist.  “I didn’t
know you were that way inclined, Severus?”
Snape opened his mouth to tell Lucius very firmly that he wasn’t,
but was cut off as Lucius kissed his lips soundly.  Snape shrugged
inwardly and wrapped his arms around the slighter man, nipping lightat hat his lower lip.  Lucius pulled away and looked up at Severus with
a feline smile.  “I shall have to see that Draco receives extra…tutelage. 
I would hate to think he was missing out.”
Snape hoped he was joking.  He risked a smile and leaned forward
for another kiss.
But Malfoys rarely joke.

***
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