|
||||||||
|
||||||||
Author: Faelaern Story: Cry Havoc Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 7 Words: 30,131
I've been living on the edge so long The small craft glided smoothly onto the sandcovered shore making nary a sound. Ludmilla vaulted out and landed quietly on her feet, wand in hand. In the distance, through the clearing fog, Harry glimpsed a faint flash of red light. He blinked, reaching for his own wand. Then there was another flash of light – green this time – and one more after that. Ludmilla shot a jet of green sparks from her own wand. "That was the signal from Mr Zorn. He should be on his way," said Ludmilla. "All the same, I want you all to remain in the boat until he is here. If we are attacked, I will send the Golden Snitch back to the Persistence, and you lot will be on it. I am more than capable of defending myself and escaping my enemies. Do I make myself clear?" Harry and the others nodded, but said nothing. They all had their wands out now, and the tension was heavy in the air around them. The wait seemed to Harry to take hours as he lay there in the craft, eyes watching the edges of the rapidly clearing fog, fingers gripping his wand tightly in one hand, the other hand grasping the gunwale. He couldn't see much in the fog, but suddenly, in the distance, a figure in black appeared, running towards them. Harry thought that it was a man, but was too far away to see facial features. The figure stopped a dozen metres away from them and stood still for a moment. Ludmilla fired a jet of blue sparks into the air, and the figure responded by shooting up white sparks. Ludmilla nodded. "That's Karl," she whispered as she motioned him in. Karl made his way towards them, walking now, wand holstered. Harry now saw that he was dressed in a black trench coat over an equally black jumper and khaki trousers. He closed the distance between them and greeted Ludmilla with a bow, then smiled at Harry and the others. "Good to see you," he whispered. Harry climbed out of the boat and put his feet down on the wet sand, making much more of an imprint than the cat-footed Ludmilla. "You'd best go before the rest of the fog clears," Karl said, turning back to Ludmilla. She nodded. "Once you are all safely off the shore, I will go." "Well, you heard the lady. Let's get moving," said Karl. "I live about a kilometre inland. We've got a nice walk ahead of us. I'm not expecting any trouble, so when the fog clears up, I want your wands away. No good will come of getting stared at by Muggles. Still, keep an eye out and don't hesitate to draw if you see anything dodgy. Better safe than sorry, as the saying goes." Harry slipped his wand into the wand concealer as the others stowed theirs, and they made their way up the beach. "This was a major beachhead during the Muggles' Second Great War," said Karl, as they reached the edge of the sand and began moving along a dirt road with grassy hedgerows on either side. "Between Utah and Omaha beaches," said Hermione. "Dad's a history buff." Karl smiled. "Very good. I'll have to show you around a bit more once you've settled in – there are bunkers and even barbed wire still up in places." "What's a bunker?" asked Ron, despite himself. "It's like a fort – big stone thing cut into the rocks," said Karl. The walk to Karl's house was silent. They didn't talk much, all of them listening for sounds that something might be out of place – even though the only one familiar enough with the area to know what was out of place was Karl. The only sounds were those of the occasional barn animal or dog, however. Harry couldn't see over the hedgerows; from what he could gather, they were about as thick as they were tall, and most of them were at least six feet in height. They made their way down a series of small winding lanes until Karl came to a stop at a metal gate built between a gap in the hedgerows. He opened it and led them through to a cobblestone road in front of an enormous castle-like manor, complete with spiralled towers and a great wooden front door. "Looks like home," said Harry, thinking of Hogwarts. Karl chuckled. "Right in one. Welcome to the Château Du Laroque." "Why not Du Zorn?" Ron asked. "Because that sounds ridiculous," said Karl with a wry smile. "And because the house was left to us by my wife's…Uncle…Benoit Laroque." Walking up to the door, he took out his wand and muttered something discreetly. There came the sound of at least eight locks clicking open, and Karl strained to pull the heavy door open. "Do you have to do this every time you come in the house?" Harry asked, incredulous. Karl shook his head. "No. But you've never been here before, so it's tradition to pass through this door." "Tradition? Why? What custom does it honour?" asked Hermione, intrigued. "Beats the hell out of me," said Karl. "You'll have to ask Benoit." "Erm – Karl?" Hermione asked as they walked inside, "When you say your wife's uncle left the house to you, doesn't that imply he's dead?" "Just so, mademoiselle," said a heavily accented voice from the shadows. Hermione gave a little cry as they all turned in surprise – except for Karl, who merely sighed. "I told you not to do that with them, Benoit. These kids are coming out of a war zone." A well-dressed man stepped from the shadows. He was dressed in an old-fashioned navy blue frock coat, waistcoat and trousers with matching cuffs. His goatee and long hair reminded Harry of a slightly older version of Karl's late brother-in-law, Jean-Phillipe. At his side he wore a rapier, and every last centimetre of him – including the sword – was transparent. "Allow me to introduce Benoit Laroque – who likes to make an entrance, as has been made abundantly obvious." Benoit said something in French to Karl in a snide tone of voice, and Karl merely rolled his eyes and continued speaking. "Oncle Benoit, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron, and Ginny Weasley." Benoit nodded to each of them in turn and smiled. "I hope you do not mind my insisting on you all calling me 'Oncle'. Everyone does – except for Karl here, who insists on calling me by my ridiculous first name." "I think Benoit is a lovely name," said Hermione pleasantly. "It was a man named Benoit who poisoned my wine!" the ghost said, looking terribly offended. "Here we go again," said Karl with another world-weary sigh. "I take it we could save ourselves a great deal of trouble simply by calling you 'Oncle'?" Ginny asked. Oncle smiled. "Just so." "Pleased to meet you then, Oncle," said Ginny, extending a hand. "Mademoiselle, the pleasure is mine," said Oncle, bowing with a flourish and kissing the offered hand. Harry scowled; Ginny had been offering a handshake, not that. Harry knew full well that being touched by a ghost was like being dunked in ice water, but Ginny seemed barely affected. Or maybe she was affected and she was pretending she wasn't so she could flirt with…a man who had been dead for several hundred years. He looked away from them, embarrassed at his paranoia. Luckily, Ginny and Hermione seemed to have missed Harry's reaction, but Ron and Karl were both looking at him with odd expressions on their faces. Karl fell back into the role of host very quickly, however, much to Harry's relief. He led them down the long, torch-lit entry hall to another set of thick wooden doors. These were unlocked, however, and opened much more smoothly than the two at the entrance. Karl motioned them through and they stepped inside. They found themselves standing in a large living room that was well kept, or as well kept as a room can be when a room has a chaotic assortment of items both wizarding and Muggle mixed together and made to look like they belonged so. There were wizarding photographs everywhere, mostly of Karl with two other people: a pretty brown-haired woman with long braided hair, and a small girl who looked to be about six or so. Karl hurried them into the next room, a lavishly decorated dining chamber with magical portraits and tapestries, an expensive-looking red rug that they actually sank into a little bit while stepping on it, and a massive mahogany dining table with lions carved into it. The woman and the girl from the pictures were sitting there, eating toast and jam. The woman's eyebrows rose as they walked in. "Karl, we weren't expecting you back so early. Kilroy and I would have made a proper meal." "Well, they arrived much earlier than I thought they would, but it was within the timeframe Viktor told me. Gang, I'd like you to meet my wife Nicolette, and my daughter, Claire." The small, brown-haired girl smiled shyly. "Nicolette, Claire, this is Harry Potter, Ron and Ginny Weasley, and Hermione Granger." Nicolette stood. "It is a pleasure to meet you all," she said. "But come, you must be hungry and tired. Kilroy will show you to your rooms while I fix a meal. Kilroy?" Very large eyes peered over the edge of the table. "Kilroy is here!" "You keep a House Elf?" Hermione asked Karl, the disapproval obvious in her voice. The small, black-clad House Elf flew across the room, stopped just short of Hermione, and levitated himself in the air right in front of her face. "NO ONE keeps Kilroy!" he said in a thick Irish accent. "Kilroy is…retired." Hermione was taken aback for a moment but pressed on valiantly. "If you're retired, why are you still doing work?" "Kilroy does NOT do work," the elf said, eyes bulging out so they looked even bigger than before, if that was possible. "Kilroy performs tasks that make people think he's doing work…because it suits his purposes!" Nicolette sighed. "Kilroy, would you please show them to their rooms?" Kilroy swivelled around to stare at Nicolette as if he had never seen her before. After a few moments of scrutiny he said, "Kilroy will consider…if they will follow him." "Disgraceful," Oncle muttered from behind them. "Stow it, deadsie," Kilroy shot back. He sped off down a corridor at the opposite end from the way they had entered the dining room. No one moved at first; this was definitely not the sort of behaviour they were used to seeing in House Elves! The Zorns and Oncle, of course, looked as though they were well used to it, and Karl even wore an amused half-smile. Kilroy poked his head back around the corner. "Kilroy moves, you follow. This not complicated process!" he said. Exchanging wary glances with Ron, Harry set off after Kilroy; the others followed. Hermione caught up to Kilroy. "Erm…Hello Kilroy, I'm Hermione." Harry raised an eyebrow behind her back; even to his ears, that sounded awkward. "Kilroy knows your name. What is it you're wanting?" "Well…" Hermione was clearly flustered. "I was just wondering how long you'd been…living here. With the Zorns, I mean." Kilroy shrugged. "Been here with the Zorns since Karl got here. Been here in Normandy long before that." "And you're from Ireland, originally?" Hermione asked, clearly intrigued. "Kilroy is from Éire, yes. Or maybe he just likes Irish accent. He forgets…. You from England, or you just like accent?" "Ahm…no, I'm English," said Hermione. "How does a House Elf come to be retired anyway? I…I don't think I've met a retired House Elf before." By this time they had walked down to the end of the long hall and turned the corner to another hall. Kilroy came to an abrupt stop. "Your rooms are here," he said, pointing to a door on the left, "and here," pointing to the door on the right. "As for your question…is Kilroy a House Elf or is Kilroy the House Elf?" He grinned. "Or maybe Kilroy is lethifold in disguise, and just wants you to think he is House Elf. Sleep with one eye open! Dyahaha-" There came a sudden loud CRACK as Kilroy Disapparated. "Well," said Ron. "That was…interesting. I've certainly filled my quota for nightly House Elf conversation; I don't know about the rest of you." "Honestly, Ron," said Hermione. "You didn't even say anything." "I didn't have to, did I? You had everything covered," said Ron irritably. "If everyone had that attitude–" Ginny nudged Harry and they edged into the bedroom on the left, shutting the door as Ron and Hermione started arguing. "A bedroom all to ourselves," said Harry with a smirk. He stepped closer to Ginny, slipping his arms around her waist. "Whatever shall we do with our time?" Ginny shook her head and leaned up to kiss him on the mouth. Harry responded in kind, deepening the kiss and bringing a hand up to touch her face as he did so. Ginny broke the kiss, and with a wicked grin went straight for his throat. Harry let out a soft moan as she found his pulse point. He was tilting his head back to give her better access when there came a sudden knock at the door. Ginny stopped and turned round, eyes narrowed. "If that's Karl playing big brother again, I swear…" she muttered under her breath. Harry reluctantly stepped forward and opened the door, fully expecting to see Karl…and finding a nervous-looking Claire standing there instead. "Excuse me," she said, and stopped. She looked so much like she thought one of them was going to bite a piece out of her that Harry felt compelled to speak up. "What's up?" "Daddy wanted me to check and see if you were sleeping in the same room with Ron," she said to Harry. "Ah," said Ginny. She smiled gently at Claire, but Harry could see the wheels turning behind her eyes already. "We're all set, thank you. This will be Harry and Ron's room; Harry and I were just talking in here. Tell your dad we will be along for lunch soon." Claire nodded and left, shutting the door quietly behind her. Ginny shook her head. "Oh, that does it. He is so going to get it." "D'you really think it's a good–" Harry started to say, but stopped mid-sentence at the look on Ginny's face. "Yes, I think it's a marvellous idea. I've got a loverly little spell I'll put to use here, too," she said, eyes daring him to disagree with her. "Ah. Well. Do you want any help?" Harry asked tentatively. Ginny nodded. "Just keep Karl busy later on today while I help Mrs Zorn prepare supper." Harry frowned. "Are you going to slip something in the food?" She shook her head. "No, I'm going to jinx him under the table at supper. But I don't want to take Mrs Zorn by surprise, and from what Karl has said about her, she'll go along with what I have in mind, no problem." "Okay," said Harry, deciding it was best to know as little about what she had in mind as possible until after the event. *** They spent the majority of the afternoon exploring the castle. Claire proved a willing tour guide, and has a decent working knowledge of what antiques were from when, which pleased Hermione to no end. Late in the day, Ginny excused herself to see if Mrs Zorn wanted help with supper; which was Harry's cue to locate Karl and keep him distracted. He found Karl in a small cemetery, almost completely hidden amidst the hedgerows and various plants in the Zorns' garden. There were several headstones, but Karl was standing over one that looked much more recent then the others. Karl shifted slightly, and Harry could make out what it said.
Harry thought bitterly that Jean-Phillipe hadn't died fighting at all. He had been struck out of nowhere with a Killing Curse. Never knew what hit him. But he would never say that aloud; Jean-Phillipe had indeed fought well in the minutes before his death, and, Harry was sure, in any fights he'd been in beforehand. Harry turned to go when Karl spoke up. "It's strange, you know. I've always been one to encourage accepting death. It's as natural to die as it is to be born. But it's easy to talk and think about accepting death when you're not thinking about it being of someone close to your heart. To learn to accept, through the pain...that's hard." Harry was silent for a long moment. Finally he said, "It's letting go that's hardest." Karl turned around. His face was dry, but Harry could see the pain there. "I know. I knew before Jean-Phillipe, too, sort of. My father died when I was only nine years old. And people I've known have died in the war, and in other things, since then. But I was too young to understand, really, with my father. And all the others…friends at best. I'd no blood relation to Jean-Phillipe, but he and I were like brothers." This gave Harry pause. If he thought about it, that was Ron for him, in a way. He thought about how he would feel if Ron were to be killed…or Hermione, or Ginny. His thoughts had wandered thusly before, of course, and it always, always brought a tangible stab of pain to his chest. "I guess," he said, "we don't really have any choice but to accept that each day could be our last...and the last of everyone we love." Karl actually smiled slightly at that. "You know, that's what I said to Bill Weasley, shortly before I left England. Do you know what he said to me?" Harry shook his head. "He quoted something off an Egyptian tomb. Loosely translated, it was something like 'Living every day as if it were your last is foolish...then you'd be depressed and scared all the time…crying over time not spent well, and wasting the time you do have. Instead, live every day well...that's all. Well…'" "I don't know what to say to that," said Harry. "I think the point is not to say, so much as to do," said Karl. "If you're feeling up for a walk on the beach after supper, why don't you find Ginny and Claire and I can show you the sights?" Harry wondered whether Karl would be up for a walk after whatever Ginny had in mind, but he nodded and said, "That sounds good. You're not worried about us being seen or attacked or whatever?" Karl shook his head. "Part of the reason you're here is that the Death Eaters are focusing their activities in Britain, Bulgaria, Norway, and Germany. They do have a sort of mobile group that deals with Dark race relations, but they haven't been sighted in France, outside of the Alps. Certainly none in Normandy. We don't reckon there's that much here that would interest them." Harry gave him a pointed look. "There's us." Karl shrugged. "The only people who know you're here are Dumbledore, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Lupin, and Hermione's parents." "And Viktor and Ludmilla. And the entire crew of the Persistence," Harry added. "Trust me, you're safe here," said Karl. "If you're safe anywhere, you're safe here." Harry said nothing, but privately felt that 'safe' was an illusion people talked themselves into believing, so as not to go out of their minds. He caught Karl looking at him strangely, realised he'd been staring off into space, and forced a smile. "Let's go eat supper." Karl held his gaze for a second, than nodded, and they walked back into the house.
|