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Author: girlyswot Story: The Squib Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 4 Words: 63,028
Disclaimer: Thanks to J.K.Rowling for creating Harry Potter and his world and letting people play in it. And thanks to Gabriella Du Sult for inspiring me with George/Padma and to St Margarets for Jack Jordan and other next generation inspiration. Ben hadn’t seen anyone since the Irishman who’d broken Bert’s wand had left. He’d found a couple of old tarpaulins and fashioned a kind of bed to lie on which, while not exactly comfortable, did keep him marginally warmer than he’d been on the floor. He must have slept at some point, since when he woke the sun was streaming through the cracks in the roof. He checked his watch. Bert’s trial wasn’t until eleven-thirty. No point trying anything before then. Best say midday to be sure. Still, there was no reason why he shouldn’t take a look around and start to make a plan. Ben reached round to his back pocket. Excellent. The wizard might have broken Bert’s wand, but he hadn’t bothered to steal Ben’s Swiss Army knife. ### She’d obeyed Wood’s instructions to the letter: having a nap, going for a walk, eating her dinner and getting an early night. Now, Laura had to admit, she felt more alert and on top of her game than she had all week. She’d arrived with the rest of the team, ready to start training at eight. For the first time, she’d fielded every one of the Bludgers sent in her direction and even managed to catch some of the much faster Chasers as they made their laps round the pitch. When they flew down to land for their lunch break, Laura waited nervously on the edge of the group. This was when Oliver traditionally gave his critiques of their performance. Every day she’d been forced to listen as he pulled her flying apart in front of the others. Today he merely nodded in her direction, then turned to speak with the two Keepers about the practice match. Laura let out a long breath that seemed to come from nowhere. ‘Here.’ Laura turned in surprise. One of the other Beaters, a stocky, muscular Geordie who’d been ignoring her all week, handed her a plastic cup of the sweet drink they were supposed to take. Laura had no idea what was in it to make it taste so revolting but she’d avoided it as far as possible. ‘Keeps your energy up, like,’ he informed her. ‘You’ll need it for the match.’ ‘Oh.’ She tried a smile but he’d already turned back to join the banter between the other Beaters and the Chasers. Laura tried not to feel lonely. Instead she sipped at the syrupy drink and wondered whether her mum might know what was in it. ‘Right,’ announced Wood. ‘Bernadetti’s just arrived back, so be ready to play in ten minutes. Potter, you’ll play with Mike and Kev. Johnny, you’ll sit this one out, but be ready in case we need a substitute,’ he added, clearly for Laura’s benefit. The team nodded, throwing their cups back in the general direction of the tray, examining brooms for any damage and finding goggles. Bernadetti strode into the midst of this orderly kerfuffle and went straight to Wood. ‘I quit.’ There was instant silence. Even Wood looked taken aback and Laura didn’t think he was enjoying the new sensation. ‘I’m sorry?’ Raphael repeated himself. ‘I apologise for it being the start of the season but I must return to Italy and to my wife and daughter. I have stayed too long already.’ Wood caught Bernadetti’s arm as he began to walk back to the locker room. ‘You have a contract.’ The Italian shrugged. ‘I will pay. I must go.’ He stared at his former coach, daring him to protest again. The usually irresistible force that was Oliver Wood recognised his immovable object in Raphael Bernadetti. Slowly, he nodded. ‘Very well.’ Laura, like the rest of the team, had watched this exchange in stunned silence but as Bernadetti turned to leave, she sprang to life. ‘Signor Bernadetti! Raphael! Sir, um, please… What happened to Bert?’ Bernadetti didn’t stop walking, but he slowed down to speak to her. ‘I did not see the end. But he will win. They arrested the other.’ Laura nodded. ‘Thank you.’ Raphael acknowledged her briefly and moved on. A couple of paces later he came to a halt. ‘There is something perhaps you want to know.’ Laura spun on her heel and waited curiously. ‘Your cousin, he has a brother? A… twin?’ She nodded. ‘Identical twin. Ben.’ Bernadetti frowned. ‘They think he is missing.’ ‘Missing? Ben? But…’ ‘He is not a wizard, yes?’ ‘Yes. I mean, no he isn’t.’ Raphael’s face softened into an uncharacteristic expression of sympathy. ‘Herm-ee…’ ‘Hermione,’ Laura supplied. ‘Si. She is organising a search.’ ‘I see.’ Bernadetti nodded. ‘I hope you find him.’ Laura watched him leave. Behind her, Oliver had reorganised the teams to cover Bernadetti’s absence. They were waiting for her. This was her one chance to prove herself in the professional world of Quidditch. But Ben was missing. There was no choice. Laura picked up her Wizster, apologised to Oliver Wood and with a heavy heart, walked off the pitch. ### Twelve o’clock. Time to get on with it then. As far as Ben had been able to tell, there was no one actually guarding the hut in person. Presumably the wizard had set his Charms around the place and trusted that they would do the trick. Ben checked the blades on his knife and decided to try the door first. ‘Never overlook the obvious.’ He could almost hear Dad saying it and waggling his eyebrows at Mum. The memory made him smile as he lifted the latch and pushed. He was sitting back on the tarpaulins. Hmm. Repelling Charm? Interesting. Right then, time to check the roof. Possibly that would be protected too, but Ben didn’t much fancy tunnelling so he’d left that for plan C. Ben had found an old barrel which he stood on end and climbed on top of. He used the screwdriver on his knife to loosen one of the rotting wooden slats. Bingo. With one gone, the next were easier to get at. He worked efficiently until there was plenty of room to lever himself up. Ben stowed the knife carefully in his pocket, grinning a little as he remembered the tales Uncle Harry used to tell of wizards’ buttocks being blown off. He and Bert had never really believed them, especially since every grown up they knew carried their wand in their back pocket. Except Aunt Hermione. And Uncle Ron if Aunt Hermione was watching. Ben tested the roof. It should be just about strong enough to hold him, he reckoned. On three, he jumped and pulled and scrambled and ended up lying with his face in some guttering and his heels kicking up over the ridge. He inched his face over the edge. Brambles. Terrific. At least they’d break his fall. The roof was far from steady. Ben tried to manoeuvre himself so that his legs were hanging down over the edge but before he was halfway round, he heard a massive crack and felt the wood giving way beneath him. Instinctively he rolled away from the hole and fell over the side of the roof in an ungainly manner, landing in something of a heap. Damn. He couldn’t move. Cautiously, Ben tested himself. He could see one foot and his toes seemed to be wiggling all right. Hands were fine. He tried to lever himself up and was pushed back down again. Something painful was pushing at his chest. He grimaced. Those hadn’t been ordinary brambles after all. ### It took a matter of minutes for Raphael to throw his things into his suitcase. He hadn’t brought much and he didn’t care for anything he’d bought since he’d come to Puddlemere. He left an envelope containing a month’s rent and the key to his flat with his downstairs neighbour. Grasping his suitcase in one hand and his broom in the other, he walked out with a broad grin and a light heart. He’d only come to England in the first place because they’d told him that his wife’s secrets would be kept safe. No dirty laundry out in public, Giovanni had breathed unpleasantly into Bernadetti’s ear. Raphael had thought that mattered. He’d vowed to protect Claudia and little Francesca and if that meant leaving them in Italy whilst he came to England and spied on the English team, he would do it. He’d been wrong. Claudia had nothing to be ashamed of. She had nothing to do with the vile killer and despoiler of women that had fathered her. Standing in that court room today, Raphael had felt all the anger and hatred that had grown in him over the years. He’d had to grip the podium to stop himself from dragging Mackenzie down onto the polished wooden floor and systematically punching and kicking him until he begged for mercy. He would not have stopped. A coglione such as that deserved no mercy. Raphael would have continued until the blood ran and the writhing ceased. He would have held his thumbs to the veins in his neck and pressed until he saw the chest of the Porco Giuda stop rising and falling with each breath. He shook himself. It was better this way. He was free to go home to Claudia and Francesca and nothing could take him away from them again. That lawyer with the unpronounceable name had assured him that there was no way Mackenzie would see the light of day again. Giovanni could go to hell, Raphael decided recklessly. He’d paid enough and enough to the mafioso who’d arranged his first training contract. Almost twenty years, he gone where he was told, he’d kept the secrets he’d found out, he’d done what they asked. Well, they could find another babbo. He’d keep quiet, they knew that. He’d been too closely entangled for so long to gain anything from going to the carabinieri. He waited half an hour at the International Portkey Terminal in London to get a passage to Roma. From there he could Apparate to the village. Raphael set off up the long, dusty path, wondering what Claudia would say when she saw him. He could visualise the smile on Francesca’s face as he swung her up into the air and told her how she’d grown. Perhaps they would be out in the olive groves and he would have to find them. Raphael turned the corner and paused, drinking in the long-remembered sight of their little stone house. There were flowers on the lemon tree. The nets were well-pegged under the olive trees. A tall girl with long dark hair streaming behind her was running towards him. ‘Papa,’ she whispered. Then she screamed, ‘Papa! It is really you?’ In answer, Bernadetti lifted her against his chest and clung to her in a tight embrace, feeling the tears stream down his cheeks. When he finally looked up, another face, equally alight with joy and disbelief, was waiting. He lifted a trembling hand to stroke her cheek. ‘Mi carissima bella. It is all right now. I am home.’ ### Cathy had dragged Zoe out of Flourish and Blotts despite her protests that she couldn’t just walk out on work. With a wink at Cathy, Zoe’s boss had disagreed, telling her to take as long as she needed. ‘It’s Ben,’ Cathy said simply, once they were out of public view. ‘He’s gone.’ ‘Gone?’ All the colour that had rushed into Zoe’s cheeks at the mention of Ben flowed out just as quickly as she assimilated what Cathy had told her. ‘Gone where?’ ‘We don’t know but we think he’s been kidnapped. No one’s seen him since Wednesday.’ ‘Wednesday?’ Zoe covered her mouth with her hands in horror. ‘You mean after he… I… we…’ ‘Quite. So we need to know everything. Look, we have to go to his flat. You’ve got a key, haven’t you?’ Dumbly Zoe nodded. Cathy took hold of her arm. She’d better Apparate them both. ‘Kidnapped?’ Zoe whispered, clutching at Cathy’s robes. ‘But why?’ ### A certain amount of wriggling had enabled Ben to extract his penknife from his back pocket. He flicked open a blade and began sawing at the nearest branches. The bush made the most extraordinary yelps of pain which Ben steadily ignored. Eventually he managed to drag himself free. He sat up, plucking away the final remnants of the spiky branches that clung to his clothes and hair. Something wet and sticky had landed on the back of his head. Ben brought his hand round to inspect it. Oh. Blood. Come to think of it, he did feel a bit woozy. Perhaps if he just lay down for a few minutes. ### For once, Ginny didn’t look pleased to have a houseful of visitors. The Aurors had taken over the dining room, laying out charts and plans and demanding endless supplies of strong coffee. The family were in the kitchen, sitting round the table that normally seemed so comforting. Nobody was eating the plates of flapjack that Ginny had put out. A few people were cradling mugs of tea, which Harry had insisted putting several spoonfuls of sugar into. When Cathy and Zoe walked in, everyone looked up hopefully. Bert came over to them. ‘Do you know anything? Where he might have gone? How it could have happened?’ Zoe shook her head, obviously on the brink of tears. Ginny came over to her quickly, slipping an arm round her shoulders and offering her a chocolate biscuit. ‘Is there any news?’ Cathy checked with Bert. He made a space for her at the table. ‘Nothing. The Aurors can’t track him because there’s no magic. The only thing they’ve discovered is that my wand is no longer in existence. Ollivander’s got a notification.’ ‘They can’t trace it?’ ‘They’re trying now,’ George told her. ‘Hermione’s had an idea.’ ‘I just can’t believe this has happened,’ Padma said in a strained voice that sounded like it wanted to cry. George put his hand over hers. ‘It shouldn’t have happened,’ Bert shot out fiercely. ‘Not to Ben.’ ‘You’re right,’ Laura said, equally vehemently. ‘He didn’t deserve it.’ ‘It should have been me,’ Bert announced. ‘At least I could have fought back.’ ‘He can fight,’ stated Zoe. ‘Ben will do whatever it takes. Just because he doesn’t have magic you think he can’t take care of himself, but he can. He’s a proper man. A better man than you’ll ever be, Bert Weasley.’ Bert listened to her outburst, not showing a hint of emotion until she reached her closing point. ‘You think I don’t know that? He’s always been better than me.’ His face began to crumple and Cathy reached to squeeze his hand. ‘We’ll find him, Bert,’ she told him firmly. ‘I can’t,’ he pointed out in a small voice. ‘I haven’t even got my wand.’ ### It was four o’clock by the time that Hermione, hair falling around her shoulders and her cheeks flushed with success, entered the kitchen. ‘Dorset,’ she announced. ‘Map co-ordinates here. This is where the wand was destroyed. We’ll need to search a wider area for Ben’s present whereabouts.’ The thought of being able to do something at last revived everyone’s spirits. Kingsley took charge of the mission, directing everyone to different areas, explaining the protocol for flying through Muggle areas and what to do if they found anything. ‘Nobody, I repeat nobody,’ he glared at Harry and Bert, ‘should attempt to restrain Dwyer or any other person suspected of criminal activity alone. Send the signal.’ He demonstrated the spell and the flick that would send up sparks visible for several miles. ‘An Auror will be with you in minutes. Any questions? Good. Stay in your pairs and keep to your zones. Once it gets dark, meet back here. Do not attempt any false heroics.’ Again, he caught Harry’s eye. Cathy could have sworn she saw Mr Potter wink back. ### Laura flew with her father. He went fast and low and, with the Disillusionment Charm cast, it took all her concentration to follow him. She’d never seen him like this before: fierce and determined and seemingly without fear as he focussed only on his goal. She wondered if the War had been like this. People said that it had changed them but Laura had never quite understood what that meant. Now perhaps she was beginning to. Before this week, she’d have said that nothing would persuade her to give up her dream of a Quidditch career. Yet today, when Bernadetti had told her about Ben, there had been no question in her mind of staying to play the match. And now, flying over the fields and plains of Dorset, there were no regrets. Family came first. It seemed like another lifetime since she’d stolen that paper from Uncle Percy’s office and told Bert she was interested in the Dark Objects. A shiver went down her spine. No one had wanted to talk about the trial much, of course, but what little she’d gleaned made her shudder. Mind control. Blackmail. False imprisonment. It wasn’t just something to be dabbled with out of idle curiosity. Dark magic was powerful and dangerous and someone had kidnapped her cousin as a result. They had to find him. They had to. ### It felt like they’d been searching for hours. The sun had not quite set but the light was distinctly pinker than it had been half an hour earlier. Cathy narrowed her eyes as they turned towards the west and did her best not to think this was all in vain. ‘Cathy!’ A cry from Bert roused her. ‘What? Where? Have you seen him?’ ‘No. Look there.’ She followed his pointing finger with her eyes. ‘The signal,’ she breathed. ‘They’ve found him,’ Bert agreed excitedly. ### Bert insisted on carrying him back. Ben was still unconscious but the trained Mediwizard on the Auror team had checked him over and said he would be fine. He might sleep for another twenty four hours or more, but he would be fine. Bert slipped his hands under his twin’s body and lifted him onto his broomstick. His dad had looked worried and Harry had offered to help but Bert had refused. ‘We’ve always flown together,’ he explained. Then he’d turned to Zoe. ‘You’d better come too.’ Zoe started. ‘But I… he… we broke up.’ Bert shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter. Not if you love him.’ ‘Oh.’ Zoe didn’t say anything but she picked up her broom and got ready to follow Bert. It would be a long flight back to Edinburgh, but the Mediwizard had told them that Apparition was too much of a risk for someone in Ben’s condition. The family group kicked off first. The Aurors were continuing their search. Now that they had a location there was plenty that they could do to track down Ben’s abductor. Cathy was the last one standing in the empty field. She watched long after the Weasleys had disappeared from sight, Bert and Ben in the centre, surrounded by their family.
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