Search:

SIYE Time:15:43 on 28th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


The Hallows Questers
By sapphire200182

- Text Size +

Category: Post-Hogwarts, Deathly Hallows Challenge (2009-1)
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 26
Summary: ** Winner of Best Adventure in The Deathly Hallows Challenge **
The Royal Academy of Magic's sudden interest in the Deathly Hallows and the Ministry's completion of the investigation into the Battle of Hogwarts sparks off yet another mysterious adventure that once more plunges Harry into conspiracies, Dark Wizards and the Ministry of Magic's many secrets. Entry for Deathly Hallows Challenge 2009.
Hitcount: Story Total: 12560; Chapter Total: 2782





Author's Notes:
Sorry about being this late, but I've had a busy week. The fic will be finished by contest deadline, I hope ; ) Otherwise, I'll just repost it, 'cause I think it's not bad.




ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter


CHAPTER TWO - PAULINE, CLARKE AND STONE



The Tea Witches,
Diagon Alley.


“Do sit down, Professor Adler, Professor Clarke,” said Ginny. “Flitterbloom tea?”

“Thank you, and please; it’s Pauline,” said the professor, pulling over two chairs for herself and Clarke. “I have invited another professor to join us, but I’m afraid he was held up. I’m unsure if he can make it to this meeting.”

Harry stared as Professor Clarke sat down. There was nothing but friendliness in those eyes of his, now, but when Harry glanced at Pauline Adler he could see she was watching him intently. He returned her gaze coolly, and her pupils flicked upwards once more to his scar.

Harry self-consciously brushed his hair down over his forehead. He did not like people staring at his scar.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Potter,” said Pauline genially, “but I confess your scar is one of your trademarks, so to speak.”

“Yes, well, he’s never felt comfortable with people staring at it,” said Ginny.

Just then, the waitresswitch arrived. As Pauline ordered egg sandwiches and more Flitterbloom tea, Harry shot a quick look at Professor Clarke. The man’s eyes once more turned into a silent plea for help, and his lips mouthed ‘Help’.

Harry slowly began to reach for his wand, but then the old man shook his head almost imperceptibly. Harry frowned and began to form a questioning look on his face, but then Pauline turned back to him and the moment was lost.

“Now then, Mr. Potter, to business,” said Pauline. She extracted a pair of reading glasses and roll of parchment on which she had written a list of some sort, in a neat cursive in green ink. Putting on her spectacles, she said “I’d like to ask you about some of the enchantments used in the fight at the Battle of Hogwarts. At the Faculty of Modern Magic in the Royal Academy of Magic, we are always very interested in the latest magical developments and have always pioneered in the field of progressive magical research.”

Harry glanced at Clarke, who was sipping at his Flitterbloom tea. Play along, mouthed the old man. Then he set down his teacup and said, “Mr. Potter, since you were the one who defeated the Dark Lord, we thought you would be the best candidate to answer our questions.”

Feeling very confused but , Harry said weakly, “I’ll try my best.”

“That’s fine,” said Pauline brusquely. “Now, we are especially interested in the defence of the castle. For example, were you aware that the castle’s statues, suits of armour, gargoyles and even some arches and staircases were actively trying to protect Hogwarts?”

Harry thought back to his memory of a disheveled McGonagall in her nightgown and a tartan robe, raising her wand and commanding imperiously, “Piertotum Locomotor!” With a slight grin, he said, “Yes. I remember the spell Professor McGonagall - that was the assistant Head, the current Headmistress - used. I thought it was a basic animation spell?”

Pauline smiled tightly. “No. No one has ever seen such a powerful locomotion spell before. It was almost as if the castle was acting on its own accord. Do you by any chance remember the professor’s hand movements, or the immediate effect the spell had on the statues?”

Harry shook his head. “I only remember Professor McGonagall raising her wand and uttering the incantation, and the statues and suits of armour subsequently leapt from their plinths and stands. However, I do know that Hogwarts has many ancient spells and charms placed on it, and the suits were sort of semi-sentient anyway.”

Pauline proceeded to quiz Harry on the enchantments on the castle and some curses used by the Death Eaters. Harry was feeling just a bit irritable and fed up with the interview, which was forcing him to relive how many of his peers and acquaintances had died. He held on, however. Something was up with that Professor Clarke. Something was definitely wrong. It seemed that once more, they had stumbled into another adventure.

Other than the protective spells and wards placed on Hogwarts, there had also been an instance in which Pauline asked Ginny about her Bat Bogey Hex. Ginny had refused outright to reveal the hex’s incantation, but revealed that she was now a master at non-verbal casting and that the key to the spell lay in the study of spellwork, not transfiguration.

Pauline had listened attentively throughout and had taken copious amounts of notes, something which Professor Clarke had not done. Now, she took off her spectacles and leaned forwards ever so slightly. “Mr. Potter, I would like to ask you one last thing.”

Steepling her fingers, Pauline said clearly, “What do you know of the Elder Wand?”

* * *


2 9 Delaney Way,
Manchester.


Dennis Creevey answered the doorbell on the second ring. Dressed in cloaks over dark black robes, despite the sunny weather, were two men he had never seen before. One, young, olive-skinned and fit, looked to be just a few years older than Dennis. The other man was grim-faced, in his sixties and sporting a rather long beard that clued Dennis in immediately that his visitors were from that other world that he had almost sworn off entirely.

“Mr. Creevey?” said the young one. “I am Mr. Finch. This is Mr. Croaker. May we enter?”

Dennis frowned. He casually put a hand in his pocket, feeling the reassurance of the hilt of his wand. Silently, he thanked Merlin for those extra lessons he’d taken with Harry Potter and his friends, and for the ingrained habit learned throughout his horrific Hogwarts experiences in the Second Wizarding War that made him carry his wand about him at all times, even when he didn’t expect a jinx to come hurtling his way. “Who are you?”

The young man, Finch, smiled mirthlessly while Croaker made no movement at all, his aged, liver-spotted face impassive and unchanging, as if the conversation didn’t concern him in the least. “I am from the other Ministry, if you catch my drift. We would like to speak with you.”

Dennis shook his head. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, but I’m a bit busy right now. I’m leaving for work soon; I work the night shift at a convenience store nearby.”

“Oh, we know that. We’ve been watching you at your work in that Muggle store. Now, for the last time, do be a good chap and inviste us in,” said Finch, showing just a hint of steel in his voice, “and don’t think that a Hogwarts dropout can successfully take on an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries. I’ll have a Stunner in you before your wand can clear your pocket.”

Oh yeah? thought Dennis, though the first twinges of fear were coursing through him now. “What do you want with me? I’ve left your world, Finch. I don’t want anything more to do with the wizarding world… not after what happened last time.”

Not after Colin, said Dennis to himself silently.

For the first time Croaker stirred, opened his grey, papery lips to speak. “We wish to talk to you about a wand.”

* * *


T he Tea Witches,
Diagon Alley.


“No!” said Harry vehemently, bringing his hand down on the table with a thump. “I will not discuss the Elder Wand!”

Too late, he realised the smarter thing to do would have been to keep quiet and pretend he knew nothing about the Hallows. A quick glance at Pauline showed that he was right; the self-satisfied smirk on her face revealed that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Harry berated himself silently for having let the proverbial cat out of the bag so easily.

“You are of course aware of the significance of the artifacts - or Hallows, as I should call them - in your possession?” said Pauline. “Some people call them the Deathly Hallows.”

Seeing no point in denying their existence, Harry reluctantly said, “Yes.”

“We want to study them.”

“No. They are too powerful,” said Harry. “I myself don’t know the full extent of their powers and abilities. I will not entrust that kind of knowledge to anybody, not even myself.”

“Mr. Potter,” said Pauline, “you are sitting on top of a very important breakthrough in modern magic. Do you know how old the knowledge used to create the wand you have in your pocket is? These artifacts - the Hallows, all three of them - we need to study them, Harry.”

“No,” said Harry resolutely. His eyes met Ginny’s; she too was firm and her jaw was set. This is what Pauline wants, thought Harry; she wants to steal the Elder Wand.

“We need to, Harry. The Royal Academy of Magic needs to. This is what modern magic research and development is about, Harry,” said Pauline.

“The Hallows are far too powerful,” argued Harry. “That kind of power isn’t meant to be wielded by just anybody.”

“Back when the first wands were invented, those big hulking shepherd’s crook magic staffs, that’s what they said about the walking-stick type wands,” shot back Pauline. “And now look where we are; ten-inch long twigs we can stow in our robe pockets.”

“No means no,” said Harry firmly. He stood up, about to announce that he was leaving. Just then, however, he caught Clarke’s eye.

The professor mouthed the word ‘washroom’.

“I… May I excuse myself?” Harry said. “I need to use the washroom.”

“Certainly,” said Pauline. “While you’re in there, could you please reconsider?”

“Me too,” said Clarke, catching Pauline by surprise.

Harry watched the professor’s reaction carefully. Pauline opened her mouth as if to say something, then nodded. A muscle twitched in her jaw.

* * *


As soon as they were in the gents’, Harry rounded on Professor Clarke.

“Just what the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Mr. Potter! I am being held by those two!” exclaimed the old man, clutching Harry by the forearms. “You must help me!”

“Which two?” said Harry, bewildered. “How do you wish me to help? I’m currently working as a junior Auror, I can…”

“No! It’s imperative you don’t involve the Ministry,” said Clarke. “They have spies amongst the highest echelons of our government.”

Harry forced himself to calm down, breathing deeply. “Sir, I know who I can trust. You must have heard of the Order of the Phoenix?”

“Play along,” begged Clarke. “For pity’s sake, play along with the devils!”

Suddenly he clammed up, straightened and rushed to the basin to wash his hands. As he did, another wizard stepped into the washroom.

Harry sized up the newcomer. Tall, dark-haired and somewhat muscular, the man wore a long dark cloak that concealed a physique that reminded Harry of some of the professional Quidditch players he had seen - lean, angular and tough-looking. He glanced at Harry for the briefest moment before making his way over.

“Mr. Potter,” said the man. “My name is Professor Stone.”

He held out a hand, which Harry took suspiciously. Harry could hardly believe that this man was a professor at the Royal Academy of Magic. He resembled a thug more than anything else. “Professor… Stone?” he said.

Professor Clarke stammered just slightly as he turned to greet the newcomer. “Good afternoon, Stone. Glad you could join us.” To Harry, he said, “This is Professor Stone, Mr. Potter. He teaches Transfiguration and has written several research papers on the subject.”

“Professor Adler invited me to meet you here, Mr. Potter,” said Stone. “I am most interested in your experiences with magic, Mr. Potter.”

“I see,” said Harry, not really seeing at all. This was getting stranger and stranger by the second, not to mention very suspicious. Still, he played the situation by ear and decided to trust Clarke’s words and just play along.

* * *


When he and Professor Clarke returned from the washroom - accompanied by ‘Professor’ Stone - they found Pauline standing talking to Ginny, clearly preparing to leave.

“Well, Mr. Potter, please give a thought to our proposal,” said Pauline. “We can meet at a time and place of your own choosing, under the control of whatever security you wish to mount, and we’ll spend just a few minutes studying the Hallows. Any one of them, but preferably the Elder Wand.”

“I don’t know…” lied Harry, pretending to be considering her words. “I’ll write you a letter with my answer in the next few days.”

“Thank you for your time,” said Pauline.

As they left, Ginny turned to Harry. “What in Merlin’s name was that all about?” she demanded.

“I wish I knew, Gin,” said Harry, pulling her close. “Come on, we need to find Hermione and Ron, because I need to tell them what happened in the washroom just now.”

* * *


Th e Burrow.

“Impostors?”

They sat around the kitchen of the Burrow, steaming bowls of Mrs. Weasley’s wild mushroom soup in front of them. As the Weasley matriarch finished ladling soup into Ron’s bowl - much to Ron’s delight, who immediately picked up his spoon and a piece of buttered toast from the pile on the platter in the middle of the table - Harry repeated, “Yes, impostors. Or impostor, at least.”

Harry took out a letter, express-delivered by Grey Gray owl. He passed it to Hermione saying, “That’s the Royal Academy’s letter. In short, they don’t know any Pauline Adler, but Professor Clarke is the Dean of their Faculty of Modern Magic. He’s on sabbatical, though, and they have no idea where he is. Well,” said Harry, “they might not, but we do.”

Harry proceeded to tell Ron, Hermione and Ginny about the signals Clarke had tried to give him, as well as what had taken place in the gents. When he finished, the others were staring at him, their soups ignored.

“Blimey,” said Ron. “Blimey.”

“So what do you think, Hermione?” asked Harry.

“I think this Pauline Adler is definitely a fraud,” said Hermione. “It seems the most likely conclusion is that they are pretending to be from the Royal Academy of Magic in order to steal the Elder Wand.”

“Where does Professor Clarke fit in, though?” said Ron.

“They’re probably small-time crooks,” said Ginny. “Waylaid Professor Clarke, discovered this Elder Wand business and then they think they’re going to steal the wand, maybe sell it to the highest bidder.”

“Except they’re not going to,” said Harry firmly. “We’re going to make sure of that. We’ll use the promise of a look at the Elder Wand to trap them, but first we have to set the bait.”

“Must it be the Elder Wand, Harry?” said Ron. “Couldn’t we give them the Stone instead? Seemed pretty useless to me?”

“I don’t have the Resurrection Stone,” said Harry. “It’s not in my possession. I’m going to have to go back to the Forest to find it. The Elder Wand, I do have it. I never really did put it back in Dumbledore’s tomb. As for my Invisibility Cloak,” he paused, “well, for starters, it was my dad’s. It’s seen us through many a dangerous time, and if you ask me, I think it’ll be the best Hallow to hang on to if anything goes wrong.”

“Plus, old Xeno Lovegood said it was the most powerful Hallow,” said Hermione.

“And the Elder Wand is the least of them all,” said Ginny.

“So the Elder Wand gets to be the bait,” nodded Harry.

* * *


2 9 Delaney Way,
Manchester.


Dennis sat by the fire, brooding.

When everything had been wrapped up - the Battle of Hogwarts investigation, Colin’s funeral, the Death Eaters’ trials - he’d said goodbye to his wizard and witch friends and left Hogwarts without looking back once. Dennis had tried going back to the Muggle - the non-magical lifestyle, but it hadn’t really worked out. Despite his parents being behind him every step of the way, he hadn’t done well in school.

He had invested too many years of his life in magic. Dennis could tell you all about Fanged Geraniums and Bowtruckles and the definition of a Switching Spell, enough for an Exceeds Expectations or at least a Pass in his magical studies, but he couldn’t tell you the capital of Argentina or the history of Mesopotamia or who Robert the Bruce was. And in the non-magical world, that was what counted.

Which was how he had ended up working the night shift in a 7-Eleven and trying his best to forget about magic, Hogwarts and Colin’s death, spending his nights alone and brooding… up until Finch and Croaker called at his door.

What did they want with Harry and Ron and the rest? he wondered. Why were they so interested in those magical objects Harry went around collecting? Why did they keep asking me about the Wand, the Stone and the Cloak? Why did I tell them everything I knew? And why, he asked himself, why did I hold back what I know about the Stone?

He got to his feet, moving across the room to the stand where his cloak and hat hung.

Why am I doing this? Why am I getting my cloak, checking I have my wand, moving to the fireplace? Why am I going to the hidden box behind the coal bag and removing the last bits of Floo powder I have with me, the Floo powder I forgot about up until just now?

Why am I steeling myself to do something I swore I would never do?


* * *
Reviews 26
ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear