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Author: hwimsey Story: The Coven of Echoes Rating: Teens Status: Completed Reviews: 30 Words: 163,077
The boat skittered over the whitecaps, the sharp caw of gulls echoing in its wake. Harry stood at the prow of the Caledonian MacBrayne Ferry letting the tang of the salt air sting his face. As Mull diminished from view, the island of Iona gleamed ahead like an opal in the gray water. All speckled light and mystery. His heart sped up at the sight. Ginny would love this place. He would bring her here. Someday. What is she doing now? he wondered. Cursing him, most likely. “What do you mean I can’t come with you?” How many times had he heard her say that? This was more than well tread territory between them. Enraged, she leveled every argument against him. The only way to finally appease her was to allow her to take on some of the risk. That risk of Tamsyn Savage. Areids had ordered Tamsyn to remain behind at Hogwarts to guard Ginny and Faith. Only Ron, Tonks, Remus and Areids were to accompany Harry on this journey to see his old teacher. Harry had easily persuaded Areids of this plan. He knew the American did not want any harm to come to his daughter. Ron and Tonks, however, bristled at Harry’s logic: it put Ginny in far too much danger. “She’ll be at Hogwarts,” he assured them. “Tamsyn would be mad to try anything here -- there are too many witnesses.” They couldn’t argue that Hogwarts was indeed the safest port in their current storm and that Ginny would have many eyes on her. In the end, they reluctantly agreed. Harry had then visited Professor McGonagall and received her promise that the French Auror was not to leave Hogwarts. “If she disappears for any reason, contact us immediately.” The Headmistress nodded. “Not to worry, Mr. Potter. You can trust we won’t let anything run amiss.” So in the chill of dawn, he departed the school with a heavy heart, torn as always when he left behind the towers and turrets. He did not look back as they reached the gates. He did not want to see her standing on the Astronomy Tower, her red hair streaming in the wind. Wasn’t there an old Irish legend about such things? Or was it that she could not watch him pass from sight lest he never return? “Don’t take your eyes off of her,” he had whispered to her, pressing the Marauder’s Map into her hands. Those were his last words to her. Why hadn’t he chosen something else? “Harry?” Remus’ voice roused him from his brooding. He had joined him by the side of the boat. He looked out to the far mountains, his gray eyes matching the sea. He stood there in silence for some time; his gaze was riveted on a far off hill. Finally he cleared his throat. “Thank you for letting an old man come on a young man’s journey.” Harry smiled softly. He had not questioned Remus’ desire to travel with them to the monastery. Remus had merely asked and Harry agreed. Somewhere in his heart he thought that Remus concealed a secret he was not willing to share. There was nothing in his manner to ascertain this. Just a feeling. Harry’s eyes fell to his old teacher’s hands clenched around the rails. His scarred hands. The sun overhead struggled to make its way from the gray mist that hovered over Mull. Its rays shone in pillars onto the nearby white sand beach. Harry was thankful that at least this approach did not involve his body crashing against it and a mouthful of seaweed. Their group was dressed to blend in with the tourists around them who had come to visit the famous Iona Abbey. Steeped in history, the Abbey sat in state near the shore like a peaceful queen. The ferry nearly lilted on its side as a rush of people hurried to the railings to get a better view; cameras clicked and whirred around them. After the Ferry docked, they were nearly trampled by a rather enthusiastic contingent of priests intent to be the firsts to make it to the Abbey. “Peace be with you,” muttered Tonks after the last video camera whacked her in the shoulder. Waiting until the crowd had thinned, they passed the Muggle Abbey and took a path which headed toward the farther hills. Overhead, the morning sun was pushing back the gloom and the song of birds filled the brisk air; they pulled their collars to their chins to stay warm. In silence, as if the soul of Isle demanded it, they walked along the gravel path until they reached the base of a cragged hill. Their eyes squinting into the sunlight, a small collective gasp issued forth from the group floating above them in puffs of breath. If the Muggle Abbey was a queen then her king sat in splendor high above the sea. “It’s beautiful,” whispered Tonks although her words held something unspoken. Beautiful as the sea is beautiful or a lightning storm or a fire. The Abbey was invisible to Muggle eyes and so the group looked like hikers eager to explore some forgotten vista. They began their ascent two by two as the path was small and full of brambles which caught on their coats and gloves; the wind nipped at their cheeks. Rocks strewn their way caused Harry to trip and nearly fall twice. Tonks teased him about his grace when for a third time he twisted an ankle and fell. Before he hit the ground, Areids grabbed his arm and steadied him. “Thanks,” Harry muttered. Areids nodded brusquely. He held his gaze for a second as though he meant to speak; instead he trudged on ahead. At last the tall iron gates came into view, the Celtic cross and phoenix twisting graciously in the grill. From above, the sun glinted off the stained glass windows reflecting in blinding rays, making their eyes tear. Areids had been the first to reach the gate. He did not move forward, but waited for the group to join him. He seemed reticent to continue, his eyes staring at the crosses in the iron. “Well, Harry,” said Tonks, catching her breath, “I sure hope he takes visitors.” Harry frowned slightly. He had owled Aidan last night, but received no reply. He prayed this was not a fool’s errand, but he knew, something told him, that he would be welcome here. As if they had put enough of the puzzle together – as if they had earned the right for an audience. Before Harry could say a word, the slight figure of a monk ambled down from the Abbey. Harry recognized him at once, but could not place his name. The monk’s pace quickened, his face warming at the sight of the gathering. Harry blew out a long held breath. “Harry! Harry, how good to see you.” The ginger haired man removed a large key from his corded robes and unlatched the gate. “And you’ve brought friends. I’ll have to tell the cook. You’ve made it just in time for a late breakfast, I believe. Do come in.” The gate swung shut behind them. Immediately a wash of warm almost balmy air swirled about them. It was perfumed with something sweet and familiar as though they were breathing in a hillside of Amortentia. The group hiked up the remaining way to the Abbey. With each step they removed a glove, a scarf then a jacket until they had cast aside all their winter wear. All the while, their mouths were agape. “Oh, forgive me, please,” said the monk. “My name is Brother Thaddeus. Welcome to Tinturn Abbey. I’d shake your hands, but mine are a bit dirty at the moment.” “Were you gardening?” asked Tonks. “Did you – did you do this?” Brother Thaddeus’ eyes twinkled in pleasure. Surrounding the Abbey a magnificent garden bloomed gloriously against the grey stones. Rose twined with jasmine created an almost heady smell to the air. Beds of lavender and rosemary nestled in between more exotic and vibrant flowers as though a rainbow had spilled out of the sky. All of this was unfathomable on the cusp of winter. “It is my hobby. One needs a hobby to keep the mind on higher things. Too much praying and reading causes one to brood – don’t you think?” Tonks chuckled as though she had found her kind of religion and began to chat with the monk in earnest. They passed peach and cherry trees weighed down in ripe fruit, sunflowers yawning awake and the most vivid blue morning glories imaginable humming a hymn in the breeze. At last they reached the massive stone entrance doors, themselves adorned in wild primroses. The monk drew his wand and whispered an incantation. The heavy doors slowly parted opening to a lofty entrance hall. Harry let everyone enter before him, their necks straining to view the splendor about them. He had almost forgotten. The garden was but a faint precursor to the greenery and life about them. The Abbey had been constructed around a cloister: four open air corridors that surrounded a courtyard. The cloister was its heart and from which the sunshine streamed through the open stone windows bathing them in a sense of warmth. The sounds of Matins wafted from far away; the scent of the garden replaced by that of incense. Harry took a deep breath. He adored magic. The monk escorted them through the courtyard. A fountain gurgled in the center as owls swooped down to take a drink. They passed through the cloister and down a high ceilinged corridor. Flemish tapestries much like their Unicorn cousins, hung on the high stone walls. However, these showed ancient magical scenes of lords and ladies bearing wands or sitting by cauldrons. As they walked along, owls occasional swooped over their heads, hooting softly and carrying books in their talons. “You must forgive our messengers,” said the monk. “A number of our brothers are old and infirmed. It is a long walk to the library.” “Why don’t they Summon the books?” asked Tonks. The monk’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “As I said, some of our brothers are old. Brother Andrew, bless his soul, kept getting his head assaulted by flying books. Scared the life out of the poor man. We thought this better. Ah, here we are.” He led them to a room at the end of the corridor. The door was ajar and the scent of a roaring fire filled the air. “Some refreshments await you inside. There’s a fire and some tea brewing. It has been a pleasure. I hope to see you again before you leave. Pax vobiscum.” He bowed solemnly and took his leave. The room bore such a startling resemblance to the Gryffindor Common Room that even Remus hooted as he entered. Except half the walls were lined with books. Ron, however, took no notice and headed toward the sideboard where a silver tea set awaited them. “Merlin, Harry, I don’t know why the hell you ever left this place. It’s bloody fantastic. But I think they forgot something.” Harry chuckled at the look on Ron’s face. A large but empty silver platter sat to the side of the tea set. “Place your hand on it. Go ahead, it’s safe. Now what do you want? Picture it in your mind – there you go.” “That’s – that’s bloody brilliant!” A stack of piping hot cinnamon swirls had instantly appeared. “And watch this. What’s your favorite tea?” “Earl Grey, you know that. Two sugars and cream.” “Just checking.” “How about you Remus?” “He likes green tea. Personally I swear it tastes like sock water,” said Tonks, rolling her eyes. Harry poured two cups from the pot and handed one to Ron and the other to Remus. One cup was light brown and bore the sharp scent of bergamot, the other faintly green and indeed looked like sock water. “Brilliant,” exclaimed Remus in delight. “How can I get one myself?” “Take a vow of chastity,” joked Harry. “Not on your life, mister,” said Tonks who pushed him out of the way intent to score her own cup of tea. “Seriously, Harry,” said Ron speaking through a mouthful of brown sugary dough, “this place is amazing.” “Oh, you haven’t seen half of it,” replied Harry letting his hands run along the spines of the books that lived floor to ceiling about the room. “It’s one of my favorite places.” “I can see why,” said Remus walking toward a long casement window. The view of Mull was stunning and the very glass seemed to refract colors about the stone floor till they met the Oriental carpet and blended perfectly into the deep reds and golds. “It’s so very peaceful.” Ron had shoved nearly a complete cinnamon swirl into his mouth when the door opened. Harry’s heart rose at the sight. A stout white haired monk stood in the doorway. “Harry. Harry, my boy. I wondered when you would come find me. Took you a little bit more time than I expected. I think you’re getting soft being an Auror. I always told you, you should have been a monk.” “I think I might have some trouble with the vows,” said Harry, his face beaming. The monk moved very quickly for one so old and embraced Harry in a massive hug. He placed a kiss on each cheek as was his custom and drew back to get a better look at his old charge. “You look a fair bit more battle scarred since the last time I saw you. I’m sorry for that.” “Comes with the territory, Friar.” “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” “Oh, oh, I’m sorry.” Harry introduced Ron, Tonks and Remus then turned to Areids. Aidan stood across from the American. Areids’ face had become serious. A hesitancy passed between the Auror and the monk. For only a fraction of a moment. No one in the room noticed it except Harry. If Harry didn’t know better, he would have sworn that the two men knew each other. Aidan held Areids’ hand in his and covered it with the other. Areids did not retreat. He nearly bowed his head in respect. A heart beat later, the monk dropped his hands and the moment was broken. The monk begged them to be seated. The sun’s rays made their inexorable progress across the carpet as for nearly an hour the monk chatted cordially with everyone. Harry knew this was Aidan’s way. He could not expect to barge in and begin to pepper the Friar with countless questions. The monk operated on his own schedule in his own way. Perhaps he would have no answers at all. Perhaps only questions for Harry. When a distant bell tolled noon, Harry could scarcely believe it. They had been there for over an hour and Aidan had not ventured a word of inquiry into their visit. “You must excuse me,” he said, rising from his seat. “I have a class to attend to.” “But, Friar,” Harry blurted, “we--” “Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after justice for they shall have their fill.” He smiled kindly and touched Harry’s arm as he passed. “We will meet here for tea at three. The Abbey is your home. Allow your guests to enjoy its beauty until we meet.” The door shut gently behind him. “What an odd bird,” said Ron still staring at the closed door. “Do you think he has any idea why we’re here?” “I’m certain of it,” said Harry. “So what are we going to do till he returns?” “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you,” said Tonks, “but I’m dying to take a walk about the grounds, visit some of Harry’s old haunts. Would you mind playing tour guide?” “Not at all. Any other takers?” No one else said a word. Harry frowned. “Oh, come on. They don’t bite, you know. They’re just monks. Fine, but feel free to wander about yourself. Just be careful in the chapel. The ghost choir doesn’t take well to interruptions.” Harry was halfway across the entrance hall with Tonks when he heard a shout. “Hold up,” said Remus and Ron. “Mind if we join you?” “What changed your mind?” “Well . . .” mumbled Ron. “The tray ceased producing any more pastries,” quipped Remus. Harry laughed. “What about Areids? What is he going to do, just sit there?” “No. He left before us. I thought he would have already caught up with you.” Harry looked back across the courtyard to see if he could spot the familiar sharp figure. Nothing. “He’ll find us eventually,” said Harry although part of him wondered where the American could possibly have gone on his own. The next few hours passed pleasantly. Harry took a reserved sense of pride in showing everyone the subtle beauty that was Tinturn Abbey. They ended their tour in the courtyard. Ron and Tonks had headed off to find a loo, Tonks concerned there wouldn’t be a ladies. Ron laughed. “Just put your hand on the doorknob and the urinals will disappear.” “I’d call you something, but we’re in a house of God.” She punched him hard on the arm instead. Harry and Remus chuckled, watching them walk away. They took a seat near the fountain. The courtyard was deserted save some doves that splashed about in the water. Roses from deep reds to vibrant golds clung to the stone base turning their blossoms toward the waning sun. They twined upward until they reached a marble phoenix that had not been there when Harry had lived here. The flowers draped its wings in scarlet and umber and encircled its neck – its long graceful neck that rose in song to the sky above. The statue seemed so real as though it could take flight at any moment. “Fawkes,” whispered Harry. “Excuse me?” “Nothing – it’s nothing,” muttered Harry, his eyes transfixed by the majestic bird. “Harry, there is something I’d like to speak with you about. I assume you know what it is.” “Not really, Prof -- Remus.” “I’m not certain how I factor into this case, Harry. I asked to be included on this trip in a desire to speak with Friar Aidan. You see, ever since Tonks included me on this investigation, I’ve felt a strong tie to the outcome. I felt almost driven to find the parchment describing the Letter. I cannot tell you why. And then when I learned of the existence of not one, but two men who would be capable of destroying the Letter, I grew more intrigued. The parchment said, ‘Vexed, their lives shall be burdensome; scarred, their lives will be marked.’ This surely describes my existence. There is no denying it.” “Do you think – could you be the other man?” “I cannot sit here in all honesty and tell you that. I wish I could. You have said that you knew, you knew this was your fate. Perhaps it is not the same with everyone. There is no sign other than the fact that I am indeed vexed and scarred. But I promise you, I will stand by your side, no matter what. In the absence of anyone else, we must try to take this Letter. We cannot delay.” Harry said nothing, but eyed the three doves that had left the fountain and now nested in a stained glass window. “What are you thinking?” asked Remus. “I think, Professor, that we need answers and we need them now. I also think we’re late for tea. Come on.” *** Ginny had been good to her word. If nothing but to spite Harry. She had spent most of the day fuming about her abandonment and the other half seeing the logic behind it. She was going to prove to him that when he asked her to stay, she would stay. She also knew that two people needed her constant vigilance: Tamsyn and Faith. For extremely different reasons, but her attention nonetheless. So it was with pleasure that during a visit with Neville in the greenhouses that she ran into Faith who was busy helping the Herbologist shuck Vandenberg shells. Faith was giggling as the shells made raspberry noises, sticking their mollusk-like tongues out and returning the riotous giggles. Her smile widened when she saw Ginny and she ran to meet her. “Ginny, these are so awesome. They even make jokes if you tickle them enough.” They spent a few minutes laughing uproariously over the bivalves until one bit Ginny’s finger and the three opted for an early dinner. The sun was beginning to set as they neared the school. Ginny heard Neville let out a curse as the figure of Hagrid emerged over a hill walking the most bizarre creature Ginny had ever seen. Its reputation must have preceded it for within moments, Neville had bid them a hasty goodbye. Hagrid grumphed an explanation of Lucy being quite sensitive about her heritage. “Lucy?” Ginny exclaimed. Almost instantly, the creature’s camel-like head cocked to the side and it studied Ginny with a wide unblinking eye. Within moments it seemed to have grown a very strong affection for both Faith and Ginny, rubbing her scaly neck against Faith’s shoulder, causing the girl to cower behind Ginny’s robes. “I was takin' Lucy down to the lake fer a swim 'for she tucks in. She fancies this nice, quiet beach. Well, the Headmistress fancies Lucy likin' that beach, truth be told. The fish run there sumthin' fierce. Fancy a walk? She likes you. We'd love the company. People aren' too keen on her fer sum reason.” Ginny glanced at her watch. Dinner wouldn’t be served for another half an hour. Faith had now ventured out and was patting the dinosaur on the nose and smiling. “Well . . .” Faith turned and gave Ginny a look that only children can achieve when they want something -- complete with trembling bottom lip and wide eyes. “Lead the way, Professor,” said Ginny and received a huge smile from the giant and Faith. “’S wonderful. Care to ride her?” he asked Faith whose eyes had now widened to the size of dinner plates. “Hagrid, I’m not sure that’s a good--” But before Ginny could protest further, the child had climbed onto the back of the Diplotract which immediately raised her head and howled in glee. “Hagrid, you’re not going to let her take her into the water, are you?” asked Ginny in alarm as they began to head down to the lake. “Oh, Lucy's right protective. Better than a Labrador. Won' let nothin' happen to 'er. Thinks she's her baby, she does. Seems pretty fond of you, too.” This did little to stifle Ginny’s sense of unease. Near drowning at the hands of a dinosaur didn’t seem like something she wanted to explain to anyone, especially a hot-headed Auror. The setting sun reflected in the still water made the lake appear like a giant amethyst. She closed her eyes. Images from the previous night, moored over on the far shore and lost under a pile of blankets, came unbidden into her mind. A feeling of such intensity caused her to stop in her tracks. The ache for Harry was a living thing in her blood. How could she be this heartsick and he had only been gone less than a day? The wind blew across her lips and a yearning to kiss him, to feel his body against hers overtook her. This is foolish, she told herself, fighting to concentrate on her walking. Hagrid stopped. They had reached the shore that he had pointed out and Lucy breezed towards the lapping waves. “Faith, you can swim, right?” shouted Ginny feeling a growing sense of dread rise in her that even the memory of the previous night could not stifle. “Sure! This is fun. I want to go out, just a little, please?” “Not deep. Do you understand? Stay where we can see you. And if you need help, just shout, understood?” “Yea!” With that Lucy glided into the water, Faith sitting between her dorsal bumps like a queen. A peck of owls circled overhead hooting at some geese gliding on the lake. “'S beautiful, isn' it? So good with children. Clever girl.” Ginny cocked an eyebrow. What would her father say? Her heart twinged a bit thinking of them on some far off island. What was happening? Had they found anything or anyone to help them? “What is zat?” a voice behind them announced. Startled, Ginny wheeled around. Tamsyn stood there. She was clothed entirely in black which sharply contrasted her long blonde hair and pale face. In the fading light she looked like a decapitated head. She glared at the Diplotract like it carried disease. “Is it safe?” “Lucy? She's safer than a flobberworm. She won’ bite. 'Less you irritate her,” replied Hagrid, eyeing Tamsyn as though she’d have no problem receiving the first chomp. “May I have a word with you?” Tamsyn demanded of Ginny and shot Hagrid a look of disdain as she escorted Ginny to a nearby tree. The owls had become disturbed by something and hooted noisily. The geese were hissing. Probably the presence of an extinct species in their lake did nothing to calm the birds’ nerves. Ginny spotted Faith. She was playing happily, Hagrid standing watch near the shore. “Are you out of your mind letting her ride on the back of zat – zat thing? I am not happy about being left here to be babysitter, but I at least would not put her in harm’s way.” “She is perfectly fine. I’m here, Hagrid’s here.” “I do not understand why I have been left here and that wolf man can go. I am an Auror.” “His name is Remus Lupin. And since you are an Auror, I reckon you are the most qualified to keep watch over Faith. Which you seem to have been doing admirably since I have spent the last several hours with her and haven’t seen one glimpse of you.” “She was with you,” snapped Tamsyn. “I assumed you had the situation under control. You have that wand that exasperating woman gave you, non? Anyway, I don’t like children. They are far too clingy. Now, what are they doing on Iona? You must know.” “Her name is Professor McGonagall. I . . . I don’t know anything. Harry and I – we – well, we aren’t on speaking terms.” The Auror hesitated and eyed Ginny suspiciously. “That is a shame.” Ginny brushed off the comment and turned to face the lake. Faith was sliding a bit off the dorsal humps and Ginny took a few steps forward. Then she patted her robes briskly for her borrowed wand and cursed loudly. She had left it at the castle. Just then she felt Tamsyn grip her arm. Ginny felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Tamsyn was staring at her. “What?” she hissed. “No wand?” Just then, the owls screeched; the geese beat their wings madly in distress. From far in the sky a magnificent hawk bulleted to earth. It shrieked in triumph. *** The bells tolled the hour. They had returned to the library awaiting the arrival of Friar Aidan. A palpable energy buzzed about the room. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts. Even the luscious spread of high tea did little to draw them from their reveries. Ron had taken a book from the shelf and was leafing through it, his eyes not focusing on the contents. Tonks and Remus sat next to each other on a couch holding hands, but staring at the fire. Areids took up his watch by the window as he had earlier. Harry wondered where he had disappeared to that afternoon. Wherever it had been, he had returned as though hell bent to leave the Abbey and commence their quest. At the sound of the door opening, the room sprung to attention. Aidan entered and nodded to them all. In silence he walked to the sideboard and poured himself a cup of tea and took a long sip. He waved his fingers over it as though crumpling a hidden herb and took another sip and smiled. “I trust you all had a pleasant few hours.” They nodded. He met Harry’s eyes. “Now I believe you have questions to ask me?” His words immediately changed the mood in the room. Somehow they had all expected him to continue chatting about his novices and the dry rot in the east wing. “Yes,” answered Harry staring at his old teacher. He had been a fool to think Aidan ignorant of all that had transpired. “How much do you know?” “Enough.” “Why – why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you tell me about the Coven and the Letter – that I would have to destroy it? That you tried to destroy it?” Aidan stoked the fire and replaced the poker with great care before he began. “It is not my place to do so. In truth, as a member of the Coven – yes, I am still a member, one never leaves the Coven. It is a vow to the death. I was forsworn not to speak of it to anyone unless they obtained that knowledge of their own will. There are powerful enchantments that live in our blood once we take the vow.” “But you left the Coven – you tried to destroy the Letter.” “Yes, Harry, yes I did. Both Albus and I could not find as he used to say ‘a common ground’ with them. But we are still bound to them. I have tried to guide you, placed certain things in your path to help you. But I cannot fight this battle with you. I tried once and failed. Our wishes were to attempt again, but the tragic death of my dear friend precluded me from taking that path. You, Harry . . . we have known for a very long time that you would be our only hope. That is why Albus requested that you study here. And yes, you are right. It must be destroyed. It cannot fall into the hands of Death Eaters or worse.” “Then why won’t you help us?” “I have. I have up to the best of my ability. You know now what you are facing and where to find it.” “But how do I destroy it? The scroll mentioned three tasks. How am I supposed to conquer them?” “That I cannot answer. That comes from your own heart. Your heart and the heart of a partner. For there are always two. It has ever been thus. Divine providence works in mysterious ways.” “But we have no idea who that person is. Why couldn’t you help me? As you did with Dumbledore?” “Because two men are born every one hundred years who can destroy the Letter. Albus and I had our time. Now it is yours. I can supply you with aid if you are attacked on the island. But I cannot walk the path with you.” “Why not?” “Because it would kill him,” said Areids. He was still standing near the window, staring off into the sea. Harry was startled by the vehemence in his voice. “Even uttering the Taghairm would be fatal.” Aidan smiled wearily and nodded. “It would be the noble thing to do, Marc. But it would not help either of you in the end.” Harry twisted his head and stared at the monk in confusion. As if reading his thoughts, Aidan said, “Harry, you knew that you were destined for this. There is another man who also knows. He has known his destiny most of his life. He is also sitting in this very room.” All eyes fell to Remus, but he did not move. Another man stood. Stood like a man facing the great abyss. He and the monk looked long and hard at each other. Tonks gasped. “No,” she whispered. “How?” He spoke and the words were sharp as though each were a knife. “I was young. A Zavrzenec. She cursed me. Said I would live up to my name.” He raised his wand. He slashed at the air. Words shot from the tip hovering before him like flame. Marc Areids Harry’s heart stopped. He remembered Tom Riddle in the Chamber. Ginny dying at his feet. The words burned before them. Areids banished them like a violent conductor. The letters swirled and moved their places, changing their order. Finally, they moved no more. The American stood there breathing heavy, head bent. Stunned, Harry looked in shock between Areids and the flaming words. Vexed, their lives shall be burdensome. Scarred, their lives will be marked. Marc Areids was the other man capable of destroying the Letter. His rearranged name hung there in searing proof. I am scarred ***
www.metmuseum.org/Works_of_Art/department.asp?dep=7 For fun, once you're there, go to the floor plan. In this chapter our friends would enter through the Main Hall then follow Brother Thaddeus through throughout the Cloister to the Early Gothic Hall -- give or take a hallway here or there! Special thanks to Iviolinist for betaing/beating Hagrid's speech as well as this chapter into submission. A heartfelt thanks to my dear readers who make me smile to no end. And, George, sock water tea forever. ;)
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