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Author: Wings Story: Heart of Gold Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: WIP Reviews: 3 Words: 121,987
~~~~~~ "You...you…is this yours?" Liam sputtered and his entire face turned red as he struggled to get the words out. Regulus swallowed. "Yes." "Traitor," he growled through clenched teeth. "No, I can explain!" Regulus yelped as he leapt from the bed. "I didn't know what they were going to do with it, I didn't mean for Aislinn to get hurt. They just told me to draw a map so I did, and, please, you have to listen." "No, no I don't," Liam replied. "I don't have to listen to any of your rubbish explanations. I have a meeting to catch. Sober up while I'm gone. I'd like to have my best mate coherent when I beat him into a pulp." Liam crumpled up the map and hurled it at Regulus, who dodged to the left just in time to avoid it hitting his head. He turned on his heel and fled from the room, leaving Regulus stumbling behind him. "Liam, wait! Let me just explain!" But Liam had Apparated out of the flat before Regulus had a chance to catch up with him. He swore bitterly and kicked the kitchen table, then doubled over as pain shot up his leg. ~~~~~~ What the hell just happened in there? Liam grasped the wall, panting to catch his breath. He had Apparated out of the flat and run down the street and around the corner faster than he thought he had ever run in his entire life. No thoughts passed through his mind. It was like his entire world had stopped and he could not comprehend any details, like all he saw was the white early morning fog that was hovering over the city. He had woken up early because he wanted to take a shower and make himself as presentable as possible for his meeting. It was not that he had been lying to Regulus, but he had not exactly told him the entire truth about the whole affair. The president of the Blood Equality Society thought he was a lunatic. Liam had tried and tried again to convince him that Voldemort and the Death Eaters were not going away, but he just did not agree. To Liam, this meeting was his last shot at gaining support. But for what? His head started to clear and he began to process his surroundings. He was leaning against a brick wall, hands curled in-between the crevices of the red blocks. Sweat was pouring down his face, and his entire body was shaking. What was the point of it anymore? If Regulus was on the other side, was there even a point to him being in England? Could he just go back to Ireland? Sure, Liam, run away with your tail between your legs… Because that's what he'd be doing if he went home. He would be admitting his failure, and he would have to explain to his family what happened. He would have to go back to a life dominated by the ocean, boats, and shipping. Not that it was a bad life, he loved his family's business – but could he really give up the dreams he had been cultivating since his first year at Hogwarts? Liam wiped his forehead and his hand came away clammy. There was no way he could go to the meeting like this. He had to wash up again and look even more presentable because he would not have Regulus by his side to prove his points. Not that they mattered anymore now that he knew Regulus' true colours. But is that really it? He could not help himself. Is he really like that? Because Liam was not sure. Oh, he knew that Regulus had been hiding something. He had known since the beginning of July that Regulus was involved in something secret; he just had not had any idea of what it was. He initially thought that maybe Regulus was having family problems. It would not be the kind of thing that Regulus would choose to talk about readily. But then Regulus started sneaking around and leaving in the middle of the night, even slipping away at odd times during the day like he had in Diagon Alley a few weeks prior. Liam even approached Aislinn about his concerns, but being the carefree person she was, she brushed them away. "I'm sure there's an explanation for it, Liam," she had said. "Give him time. He'll tell you when he's ready. He's a good man, and he's been a good friend to you. Just wait for him." Some friend… How would Aislinn feel knowing that it was because of Regulus that she would have to walk with a limp for the rest of her life? What would his parents think when he told them that his best mate was a Pureblood sympathizer, the enemy, and an enemy who knew all about him and his family? Would Silas and Alana take Clare and run? Would Tara look twice while walking around the darkened alleys of Dublin at night and have to return home for safety? Stop it! He shook his head as if to drive the thoughts away. There was no reason to suspect any of that. Maybe Regulus was a spy for the good. If so, he could be in more danger than he realized, but maybe the situation was not as bad as he was envisioning. He had said that he could explain the maps; maybe he could explain it all away. Then why all the secrecy? ~~~~~~ How the hell am I going to explain this? Regulus was going to quit, he was ready to quit. Why hadn't he just destroyed those maps? He dragged himself into one of the kitchen chairs and sat holding his pounding head in his hands. Would Liam throw him out? Would he expose him as a man behind the attack? Would he get sent to Azkaban? What would his father say? What would the Dark Lord say? The more the questions arose in his head, the worse he felt, and the hangover was not going away. His mouth tasted stale and dry, and, though his stomach felt completely empty, it also felt like it was about to expel every organ from the inside of his body. The turning of his stomach was so unbearable that he decided to ignore the pounding of his head enough to grasp the counter and start a pot of hot water for tea. He sifted through the box of tea bags until he found a couple he preferred and sipped the hot liquid slowly, feeling it trickle into his gut and soothe his muscles. There was nothing for it. All he could do was tell the truth, as much as it was going to hurt him and Liam both. Maybe he would get sent to prison, maybe he wouldn't, but he had to tell him the truth. Maybe he would forgive. ~~~~~~ Liam splashed the cool water over his face one more time. He felt the droplets sticking to the base of his hairline, ready to plunge to the floor once they reached the edge of the short, blonde curls. He gripped the basin of the ivory sink in the public restroom at the park and stared down at the remaining water spiralling to the centre of the drain. Just breathe…deep breaths. It would not do to arrive at the meeting breathless. It would not do to appear frazzled or distracted. He had to look calm and collected if he hoped to convince the president of anything, least of all his sanity. There could be no question that he understood what he was doing and the ramifications of his actions. There was no margin for error – he had one shot, one opportunity to show that his ideas would work. But if I can't even recognize that my best mate is a Death Eater, then how can I say anything about fighting them? The empty sink was not solving his problems. Liam sighed and stared at himself in the mirror. He did not look half bad – he had regained colour in his cheeks and the remaining droplets of water made his hairline appear darker than the rest of his hair, but he knew that it would dry as soon as he started walking in the fresh air. He had cleansed his robes with a simple spell once he reached the restroom and knew that he was away from Muggle ears. He made them appear to be a suit rather than a large black cape to avoid stares on the street and set out toward the offices of T. Henry Preston, III. Even the name made him sound boring. Preston was not exactly a pacifist, but he was not a total advocate of war either. He lay somewhere in the middle of every extreme, keeping a neutral policy so that he could dodge any bullet that came his way. Or spell, for that matter. Much to Liam's chagrin, Preston had a knack for dodging questions about his policies as well. He had the most unreadable expressions that Liam had ever encountered in a man and the majority of the time Liam had no idea whether or not Preston was agreeing with his statements or mentally tearing them down with every word. A typical meeting of the Society began with a monotony of the day's agenda, followed by reports from each of the officers, and then an opening of round-table discussion. In the beginning, Liam did not participate in the discussions much. He tried to feel his way through the meetings, to see who could serve as an advocate and who his potential opponents might be. More than two months later, he had some idea of members who might possibly agree with a more active resistance to Voldemort and his followers, but he could not get anyone to openly agree with him in meetings. He had requested this meeting alone with Preston as a last ditch effort to prove his points. Preston masqueraded as a London barrister in his professional life. He had skill in arguing both Muggle and magical cases, and a deep understanding of the laws of both societies, giving him political clout in both worlds. While his loyalties lay in his magical upbringing, having the ability to do both gave him versatility and certainly lined his pocketbook. His offices were located about a ten minute walk from the park where Liam had washed himself up and soon he found himself standing in front of the wooden double doors underneath the sign that read: T. Henry Preston, III Barrister Oxford and H. School Liam shouldered the door open and shut it firmly, turning around to the familiar low-lit reception room with an oak desk, three matching chairs, and a small bookshelf of Muggle classics. An antique clock struck nine in the morning just as he approached the desk, behind which sat a young witch not much older than himself. "Good morning, Lexi," he said with a smile. "How are you today?" "Better, I think, than you'll be after your meeting," she replied tartly, setting down a pencil on her desk calendar to look up at him. He laughed. "You think that it is going to go that poorly?" Lexi folded her arms and leaned on the desk, a long strand of brown hair falling from behind her ear. "Honestly? I think that you might be able to convince him, but he does have sensibilities, you know, even when it seems that he doesn't. I should know. I've had to live with him my whole life." Alexis Brandon was the twenty-three-year-old niece and sole heir of Preston's fortunes. She was the picture of her mother, Preston's younger sister, who died under mysterious circumstances when Lexi was still a young girl. Liam regarded her as the expert of his moods and impressions, and always took the time to greet her upon entrance to his offices. "I don't know, Lex," he shook his head. "He's a tough one to crack. I think I may have already lost the battle and the war." One of her arms moved to brush the hair back behind her ear and adjust her glasses as she continued to joke with him. "That's no attitude to have. He can sense fear, you know." Liam laughed and admitted, "Well, then, he already has me figured out. All I can do is go in there and try." "Godspeed," she said. "I'm rooting for you, you know. I don't think that he's going away. Henry just has to understand that. I think the real reason he doesn't want to interfere is because he's concerned that I'm going to die just like my parents." Liam leaned on the desk toward her as if about to tell her a secret. "Well, you just tell him, then, that I'll make sure you're safe and sound." He winked at her and she blushed. "Go on, you big oaf," she teased. "Get on with it. I'll be waiting for you just out here. Do know, though, that he has a Muggle client at ten. He'll want you out of here in forty-five minutes." Liam checked the clock again and thanked her. "Wish me luck." He knocked on the door, and waited. True to his nature, Preston was of average height and weight, standing just a few inches shorter than Liam, but weighing a good deal more. He always smelled of pipe tobacco and his thinning silver hair was always arranged impeccably. He opened the door and stood to the side, welcoming Liam into the room. "Mr. Merric, good to see you, as always," he said. "Please sit down. Weren't you bringing a friend along?" Liam nodded his thanks and took a seat across the desk from Preston before replying, "Yes, well, my mate, Regulus Black, was going to come along, but he seems to have contracted a chest cold and so he was unable to attend." A lie, but a good one. The Blacks were not well-known for their health. "I am sorry to hear that your friend is ill," replied Preston with sincerity. "Do send along my best wishes. I have always held his father in regard, though he has never been a silent supporter of Pureblood society." Liam agreed, "Yes, I know very well of the Black family sympathies, but their sons have not seemed to act according to their parents' wishes. Sirius, of course, has been disowned, and Regulus and I have been best mates since we started at Hogwarts. He's always been careful to toe the line, though, just so that he is not disowned as well." Preston looked surprised. "You really think that the Blacks would do such a thing? Disown both of their sons? That would be suicide for a family of such history." "I am not sure I would put anything past the ability of a member of the Black family," Liam replied carefully. "They are not open supporters of Lord Voldemort, but I do have my doubts." "Even of your friend?" "Well, uh, Regulus, I am sure, is not of those sensibilities, seeing as he's my best mate," Liam sputtered. How did I back myself into this corner? "But you do not know for sure?" "I've trusted him with my life thus far," Liam said, willing his voice to remain steady. "I hope that I never have to fear him for it." "I doubt that your friend would ever put you in mortal peril," Preston remarked. "You have come a long way together, and from your description, he does not seem to be of the outspoken fundamentalist type that would wreak havoc as we have recently seen in Diagon Alley." Liam's heart began to race and he stammered, "But that is just the thing, sir. There is no telling who did that. The authorities are no closer to discovering the culprit than they were two weeks ago. Don't you agree that it could have been the Death Eaters?" Preston shook his head and defended his statement. "It is too visible a move for Lord Voldemort. He wants to attain political power. Why would he do so in this way? As witches and wizards, we vote for who we want to lead our society. Dictators have always been defeated and thrown out. He knows this. Why would he launch an attack when so many have been unsuccessful in the past?" "Perhaps that's just it," pressed Liam. "He's overconfident. He thinks that he can convince the wizarding population and maintain his status by force. I think that he will stop at nothing to gain power, and that this is only the beginning. How would you feel, sir, if Lexi was murdered for being Half-Blood?" "Those days are over," Preston insisted. "Alexis is in no more danger than you or I are. We must appeal to the reason of the voters, not fight back with the same brutality as our ancestors did. The only way to create a lasting effect is through diplomacy and legislation. They will come to see our point of view, Liam, I am sure of this. We do not need to organize an army and take over." "Sir, I think that you're wrong," Liam said plainly. "And I would hate to see you or Lexi get hurt because of it." "I like you, Liam," Preston admitted. "I like the fire and passion you have for our work. I think that you are a great asset to the Society. I just don't know how much we can use you if all you are going to insist upon is that we fight. I would like to believe that we can find more common ground, but I don't know where we are going to find it." Liam hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Are you suggesting that I give up?" Preston shook his head and clarified, "No, not give up. I would hate to see you lose the spark that I mentioned. No, I am only suggesting that your skills might be better used in another group. Albus Dumbledore…" But he never finished, because Liam interrupted him. "I have little regard for Dumbledore," he hissed. "Why ever not? He is on our side, you know." "He may be on our side," Liam admitted. "But I can't work with the man." Preston regarded the young man. "Is this because of House rivalries?" "Partially." "I was afraid of that," Preston uttered. "I'm disappointed. I believed you to be above all of that." Liam shrugged and justified himself, "It is hard to unlearn what you have been taught. I'm not proud of it, I admit, but I can't bring myself to work for the man I was taught to hate from the moment I entered secondary school." The men sat in silence for a few minutes. "We are at an impasse, then," Preston noted. "I believe so," Liam agreed. "I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time and energy." "Don't be. It has been refreshing to see such fervour in someone so young as yourself," Preston assured him. "I'll not soon forget you, Liam Merric." The men stood and shook hands. Liam found himself walking toward the door and walking over to the desk where Lexi sat. "This is it, Lex," he muttered. "You'll not be seeing much of me for a long time." She looked up at him with concern. "Are you leaving?" He shrugged. "Maybe. I won't be coming to Society meetings anymore, though Preston actually gave me a compliment, so I suppose that's something." Lexi smiled and agreed, "Yes, it is." She paused and looked down, then back up at him again. "What you going to do?" "I don't know," he admitted. "I really should get a real job, I think. But at the same time, I can't ignore what is going to happen. I feel like I've put my life on hold because I believe that there is something bigger going on." "What?" she pressed. "You hint at it all the time, but you never actually say what it is you're afraid of. What do you think is going to happen?" He looked her straight in the eye. "War. It's not going to go away." Lexi nodded and said softly, "I know it's not, not after what happened in Diagon Alley." "I have to go finish some things," he told her. His voice started to break. "You're not going to see me for a while, if ever again. Take care of yourself, okay? And take care of Preston." He held out his hand for her to shake, but she surprised him by standing up on her toes and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You take care of yourself, too," she said as she lowered herself to her normal height. "And your family. Safe travels." ~~~~~~ Around eleven, Regulus heard the key turn slowly in the lock. He had been rehearsing what he was going to say when Liam arrived home, but he still felt no more confident than he had when he first sat down. Liam walked in the door and looked at him sitting at the kitchen table, then turned around slowly and locked it again. "I should report you, you know," he muttered, back still turned. Regulus took a deep breath. "But you haven't, have you?" Liam kept staring at the wooden door, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets. "No." "Why haven't you then?" Liam turned around and though his face was perfectly composed, Regulus could still see the same fire in his eyes that was there when he had awakened Regulus. "Because if I turn you in then I'll never know why. If I turn you in, they'll come after me." Liam grasped the back of a chair on the opposite side of the table. "The way I see it, there's not much benefit in me turning you in, not yet, at least." "What, then?" Regulus pushed. "Aren't you afraid that I've called up the Dark Lord and my fellow 'Evil Eaters' as you so like to call them?" Liam considered him for a moment. "Not really. See, I figure, you got into this without really knowing what you were doing. I think you saw the chance for glory and the possibility of looking good and gaining power, and that was attractive to you, because it always has been." He paused for a minute and looked down, then back up again at Regulus. "You never befriended me because you felt sorry for me or because you sincerely wanted a friend." "That's not true!" Regulus retorted. "Please, for once in your life, just listen," Liam pleaded. "I'm tired of listening to your excuses. I'm tired of hearing that you just want to take a walk by yourself or you're meeting up with someone from work for a meeting. None of that was true, was it?" Regulus stared at the grainy wood of the kitchen table and mumbled, "It wasn't totally false. I mean, I did go for walks and I did meet up with people for work. Those just weren't the only things I did." Liam shook his head bitterly. "You don't get it. You just don't get it. I knew there was something you weren't telling me, but I brushed it aside. Sure, he'll tell me eventually, I just have to give him his space." Regulus' heart sank as he watched Liam pace about the room in his tirade. "Eventually, I'll know why he keeps lying to me. He'll let me in on the secret and maybe it'll even be something I can help him with. You've always had secrets, Regulus, and I accepted it as just a part of who you were and tried to respect you for it. It's not like you grew up with a family that was open to hearing about your troubles and needs like I did. I know it's hard for you to share what's going on in your life." He finally stopped and looked at Regulus again, jabbing with his finger as though he were pounding the words into his heart. "But you…you had no intention of ever sharing with me what was going on, did you? I bet you even rationalized your actions in your head. Oh, maybe if you help the Dark Lord enough he'll allow you to keep your mate and his family safe from extermination, is that it? Or maybe it never occurred to you that your actions were hypocritical. Even while Aislinn and I were parading under your eyes and we explained to her together who it was she kept hearing about in the shops." "Liam..." Regulus' voice trailed away as the other man continued. "No! You're going to listen. I have a right to be this angry, and do you know why? Because I trusted you, and you betrayed me. I gave my life into your hands. All summer long, for the past seven years, we've been mates, and yeah, some people told me that it was strange for the son of a Pureblood family and a Slytherin at that to be so kind to me, but what of it, I thought. He's different. You can be a Slytherin without being of Pureblood sympathies, because all it takes is a drive to want to be the best, to do something worthwhile. "I have that drive, Regulus, just like you do. That's why I am who I am. I don't think I was incorrectly placed, that I should have been in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. I'm proud of my house. I'm proud of what we stand for, and I was proud of our friendship, of the fact that a Muggle-born Slytherin and a Pureblood Slytherin could be best mates. So what happened? Why did you give up?" For the first time since he started talking, Liam was still. He was gripping the back of the chair again and looking down at Regulus, intently, expectantly, waiting for a reason, any reason. Waiting to hear why Regulus had turned against him and given up the truth for a lie. "There's no good reason," he replied slowly. "I can't give you an answer that is going to satisfy you. I didn't go into it with the intention of exposing the Dark Lord or investigation, but I also didn't go into it looking to murder anyone." He got up from the table and started pacing on the opposite side. "I joined because everyone else was. I joined because it looked like it was a way to make contacts, networking, you know. My father has told me time and time again that you get everything because of who you know, and I believe him. Do you realize the kind of people who are Death Eaters?" "Murderers," Liam hissed. "Important people," Regulus pressed. "People who can affect what will happen in my life, who I'll meet, people who look at me and expect me to be one of them because of who I am. I'm Pureblood and I'm a Slytherin. That alone was enough to make them pursue me, to seek me out." Liam looked surprised. "They sought you out?" Regulus nodded and answered, "A couple months before we left school I received an owl from one of them indicating their interest in me and their willingness to help me find a job if I joined up with them. They suggested looking into the position under Jackson, and I did, and found that it was perfect for me. I knew a lot of people joining after school, and it seemed like a good way to maintain contact with them." "But you were supporting a cause that totally goes against everything that you'd told me you believed." "It's not like I was running around like a madman hexing every Half-Blood or Muggle-born in sight, Liam," retorted Regulus. "They asked me to make those maps a while ago; I didn't know what they were going to use them for. The Dark Lord had never launched a full-scale attack on anywhere and it looked like anything violent that the Death Eaters were doing was of their own volition, not on his orders." "You're mental," Liam exclaimed. "How could you think that such calculated attacks weren't planned by a central authority?" Regulus shook his head and explained, "You don't know what he's like. When he talks, it's like he's talking to only you. He hardly ever gives group orders, just individual ones. It's not like we are getting together every night and torturing people for no reason at all. Sure, he has an agenda, but not one explicitly hostile, at least not from what I've seen." "What about Diagon Alley?" "What about it?" Regulus replied. "Apparently that shop was empty, according to the drawings I made." "No, it wasn't," Liam countered. "I know the man who owned it. He used to come to the bookshop on breaks. He was one of the people who was killed, murdered, by your so-called 'not explicitly hostile' attack." "The shop was empty," Regulus said in frustration. "They wouldn't have used it to launch an offensive otherwise. I don't doubt that it was owned by someone, but perhaps he had not yet set up a shop there. Perhaps he was getting ready to do so, who knows. I am not a murderer." "Who has been feeding you these lies? Because you sound just like one of them. I have a hard time believing that you aren't." "NO ONE is feeding me lies!" Regulus yelled. "I know what I've been doing, and I never wanted to do anything violent. I'll even quit if that's what you want." "No, Regulus," Liam said quietly. "It can't be about what I want. It should be about what you want. You want power and recognition. I know that, I always have, but now I know it more than ever. You want people who will validate who you are, and I thought that I was enough. I thought that because you had a best mate, you would realize that you don't need to do what your family wants for you to be someone of worth. But I was wrong." He walked past Regulus and toward the hallway, then turned back. "I'm going back to Ireland. When you're ready to listen, you'll know where to find me." He shuffled to his bedroom and closed the door. That's it? Regulus thought to himself. What did Liam want from him? He would quit, really. He wanted Liam to stay. But he did want the recognition. How was he supposed to get it by researching spells for the Ministry? And how was he supposed to quit, anyway? The Dark Lord surely would come after him and punish him for his disloyalty. "He'll know of your response before you even get there," Severus had said. Did the Dark Lord already know that Regulus was thinking of leaving? What would he do to him if he tried? What if he chose to do something to Liam and his family instead, just to prove that he could? "You made a promise, a deal, and you can't back out of it." Severus' slippery voice haunted his thoughts and made him sick to his stomach. He was right. He couldn't back out of it, not now. He was in too deep. He had already shed innocent blood. Sooner or later, they would find him, or the Ministry would. Either way, it didn't matter. He was a dead man if he left, but if he stayed, he would have the protection of the Dark Lord. Yes, the Dark Lord could keep him safe. He wouldn't kill a faithful servant, would he? He would never turn Regulus over to the Ministry for helping to plan that attack because it would be admitting that he had a hand in it himself. The only way to stay safe was to stay a Death Eater, and if Liam was leaving, it was not as if he had a better option or anyone holding him back. His parents, if they knew, which they surely must already, would be proud of a Death Eater son. The Dark Lord was all that mattered. ~~~~~~ The room was totally empty. Liam had shrunk the bed, the bedside table, the wardrobe, everything to fit inside of one trunk and then had charmed it to be feather-light and to appear like a Muggle suitcase. He was quite proud of the magic, actually, and excited to see how it would hold up at the airport. But what does it matter? he thought to himself with a sigh. It was not as if he could brag about it to anyone at home. He did not know of anyone in his hometown of Doolin who shared his magical abilities. He did not have any idea how he even had magical abilities, as no one in his recent family history had ever displayed anything of the sort, or at least nothing that anyone had ever noticed. None of his siblings had ever displayed any hint of magic, and even little Clare seemed to be a perfectly normal little child, though she was still very young. Liam was different. He first used magic at the age of five when he had gone playing in the Cliffs of Moher with Silas. They were looking out over the ocean to the Aran Islands and down on Doolin when he took a misstep and would have fallen down among the cliffs themselves had he not stopped himself in midair. He could still remember the look of shock on sixteen-year-old Silas' face as his brother drifted back to the top of the rock unharmed. "What did you just do?" Silas asked. "How in the world did you manage not to kill yourself? Mam would have had my head." Liam hadn't any clue what had happened. Silas grabbed his hand and the two boys scrambled back down toward the village to tell their mother, but were stopped by her father on the way. "Slow down, lads," he said in his thick accent. "Where do you think you're going in such haste?" "Li-Liam did something strange," Silas replied carefully, though his voice was shaking. "He was slipping, and it wasn't my fault, really, but somehow he managed not to fall off the cliffs. He just…stopped himself." Liam was staring at his feet, not wanting to meet his grandfather's eye. Somehow he felt that he had done something wrong, and he could feel his entire face flushing as he realized he had no idea how to explain the occurrence. "Did he now?" Callum Donnelly replied. "Liam, do you have any idea how you did this?" He shook his head and kept staring at his feet until Callum cupped his chin and drew his gaze upward to stare into his own. He seemed to stare at his grandfather for an eternity, unsure of what was going on. "Come on, little one," Callum said as he picked up the little boy. "I feel you could do with a bit of soup and some chocolate, eh? Let's go talk to your mother." Liam rested his head on Callum's shoulder and gazed up at the cliffs as they walked toward the house on the edge of the village by the sea. Silas pushed the door and held it open for the aged man and his young charge, and Liam heard his mother gasp as they walked through the door, though he did not see her until Callum set him down at a chair by the kitchen table. "Pa, what happened?" exclaimed Kate Merric. "Is something wrong with Liam?" She put her hand to his head and he could see the concern etched in her face as it flushed pink to match his own. Silas shuffled his feet and looked at the floor as Callum reached for her hand to draw her away from her youngest son. "Nothing is wrong, he's just a bit shocked. The boys were playing up by the cliffs and evidently Liam here slipped, but he's fine," Callum reassured her. She whipped around to face her oldest son and scolded, "Silas! You should have been keeping an eye on your brother. He's not but five! How could you have been so careless?" Silas opened a mouth in protest, but Callum silenced him, "It wasn't his fault, Katie. Calm down. Liam was able to save himself. I think it's best that we get him a bit to eat and let the boys sit down. I have some things that I need to talk to you about." It was not until that moment that it occurred to Liam – why was his grandfather in Doolin anyway? He lived farther north, in the small village of Fanore, where Kate and her siblings had grown up. There was not much of a distance between the two towns, but it was rare that Callum just happened to be at the edge of Doolin by the cliffs. There were plenty of limestone formations around Fanore itself, no need for Callum to come down to Doolin for a walk. Why had he been so close when the boys needed him most? But the thought vanished from his mind as soon as his mother placed the bowl of soup and a generous hunk of soft bread in front of him. She produced another bowl for Silas and Callum slipped both of them some chocolate before retreating into Kate's study and shutting the doors. Aislinn and Tara arrived home with Sean Merric soon afterwards and he never did find out what Kate and Callum had discussed so secretly. The man did not live to learn of Liam's acceptance to Hogwarts School. A couple years later he simply did not return to his house one night. No one knew of his whereabouts, and though Kate and Sean organized a search party for him, his body was never found. It was assumed that he had taken a fall from the cliffs into the Atlantic Ocean one stormy evening as the swells reached up and made the rock surface slick to the step, being not as fortunate as Liam to catch himself. He was certain that no one other than his parents and Silas, and eventually Aislinn and Tara, ever knew what had happened up on the cliffs that day, and certain that if he were to return to Doolin showcasing his talents, he would keep few friends. Liam was returning to the home of his fathers, yet he was returning to a place where no one really knew who he was. For the first time since he came to Hogwarts as a bright-eyed eleven-year-old, Liam felt that he was truly alone.
As always, thanks so much to Arnel and Cygnus for their excellent beta skills. For reference, here are a couple of web sites I have been using for culture and geography of the Burren and the surrounding areas. To find Doolin on the interactive map, click on Ballyvaughan, scroll west to the coast, and then south. http://www.burrenbeo.com/visitor-interactive-map.aspx http://www.shannonregiontourism.ie/content.asp?id=56 http://www.westirelandholidays.com/clare/county.htm
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