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27.1% A Bend in Time / Chapter 332: Dress Robes

章節 332: Dress Robes

Upon their return to Prince Manor, after the Quidditch World Cup, Rowan was rather subdued. Cautious, she had carefully put the egg in her hidden school trunk compartment. She couldn't put a living object into the moleskin pouch of hers, but the hidden trunk compartment could expand to hold one meter's worth of items. The egg would be perfectly safe inside there as only she could open the hidden compartment.

In the weeks after, Rowan largely spent her time reading, but was frequently distracted by the identity of Hydra. Was there a special significance to that name? Or was it simply the name that the group liked to call themselves? Those who were spotted dots on her map, their names had been blurred but still distinct. Impossible, she would have once said, but deep down she worried about what that meant. The only clear name had been the single Hydra survivor, whose title was clearly that of Hydra.

Furthermore, all those with blurred names died in the coils of the Great Mother Snake. Why had their disappearance not been reported at all nor mentioned in the papers? Or had the mysterious Hydra obliviated the minds of friends and relatives to make their disappearances seem a mere coincidence or have occurred long ago? Whatever the case, there wasn't a single article in the Daily Prophet mentioning any mass disappearance of the individuals in question.

The arrival of Rowan's course list provided a welcome distraction. The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 by Miranda Goshawk, Defense Against the Dark Arts by Galatea Merrythought, The Art of Alchemy by Nicholas Flamel, Advanced Numerology and Grammatica and Ancient Magic and Powers of the Forgotten Past by Howard Cartier.

The good news is that Rowan had already gone over this year's standard book of spells. The bad news is that dress robes were on her course list. It was strange given the fact that she needed plenty of items for her new courses. But she didn't think much of them as it was possible, they might be needed for some sort of apprenticeship even. But still, time went rather slowly in the remaining days that were left.

With only a day left before their return to Hogwarts, Rowan puts her book away and went to find Sir Knight Prince, who had been actively avoiding her since learning he was a parselmouth. Heading upstairs to the attic, Rowan paused in the corridor that now held a locked door.

The parlor room that once belonged to her grandmother had been locked away by Reginald, their grandfather. Aunt Georgine said that's how Prince's mourned by locking the pain away. Unhealthy, yes. But it was a terrible tendency that the Prince's tended to inherit every single generation. Neither were Rowan and Severus, the exception.

Turning away, Rowan went upstairs to find the handsome ghost playing against his own body. She watches him for a moment, before saying, "I'm not angry with you, Sir Knight Prince. I won't bite, but please stop running away from me."

Sir Knight Prince's face freezes as his body slowly takes his head and rests it on his body's lap. "I suppose that I have been avoiding you, a bit," Sir Knight Prince confessed. "But I didn't think you needed any more distractions given everything that had occurred over the summer, child."

"True enough," Rowan admitted as she leaned against the doorway. "So, is there anything I should know since I'm the present living parselmouth in the family?"

"Try to hide your gift for as long as you can," Sir Knight Prince cautioned with a sad smile. "It's more of a curse than a blessing. You'll have to learn to live with the full consequences when the time comes. And believe me, it will come."

"I know," Rowan drily muttered recalling grandfather's last outing to Diagon Alley.

Reginald Prince had in particular been besieged by the reporters. Unlike the previous years when they went shopping for their things, this year, Aunt Georgine had done their shopping for them. Not that Aunt Georgine wasn't besieged by reporters, but unlike grandfather, she threw stinging hexes left and right without any embarrassment whatsoever. The reporters quickly got the message and left her alone.

But still, it had been nice to go to Diagon Alley to buy school supplies or in Rowan's case hunt down some fine books. Though she must admit she was rather disturbed at finding a silver long-sleeved dress with matching robes among her newly fitted robes from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. She had the rather distinct impression that this did not bode well at all for her.

"And I suppose that I'll only become that much more popular since I am female parselmouth," Rowan sighed sarcastically. For a Slytherin pureblood, this was an ideal trait to have and would make her prime wife material, no matter the fact that she was considered a half-blood by wizarding society.

"In our family females breed true," Sir Knight Prince softly stated as Rowan's eyes widen at the ramifications of that simple sentence. "My mother was the sole female parselmouth in the family and solely bore me. She would have had more children if not for her fear of bringing more parselmouths into this world. I fear that should you ever bear any young more than likely at least one will be a parselmouth."

"Fat chance of that," Rowan scoffed out loud.

Sir Knight Prince's lips twitch into a smile. "I've heard that answer countless times before, but the heart is a fickle creature, Rowan. Why even Georgine succumbed most tragically to that fate, and she was twice as hard-hearted as you are. And you my dear are nowhere near as hard-hearted as Georgine was."

Rowan's eyes pensively flicker to the cut on his neck. "Was that the case for you?"

Sir Knight Prince smiles a strange little smile and says, "The present is for the living. Let the past lie in the past, Rowan."

Rowan sagely nods and turns to go as she says, "Will you tell me about her someday?"

"Someday when you fall in love," Sir Knight Prince softly promised.

Respecting Sir Knight Prince's request, Rowan leaves Sir Knight Prince to his own devices, before wandering downstairs to the kitchen. Little Laldey sits on a soft blanket in a tiny square pen. Laldey beams at her showcasing his one big tooth and the other tiny teeth that were coming in.

Smiling Rowan sits on a stool and coos to him. Laldey squeals happily and tries to help. Suddenly a wobbly plate flies over to Rowan just Dawn, who'd just popped into the kitchen bursts into tears. Rowan stares blankly at Dawn as Dawn tearfully says, "Oh, Dawn is so lucky to see her Laldey serve the little mistress his first meal plate!"

Realizing that this might be some sort of a significant event for a house elf, Rowan says, "Shouldn't then, we celebrate Laldey's success this evening?"

Dawn blinks and claps her hand to her heart. "Dawn has never heard of a master celebrating a house elf baby's first serving magic! Dawn is not sure if it is appropriate!"

"Why not?" Rowan said with a shrug. "Tonight, we'll all sit at the dining table and eat. I think it would be fitting."

Dawn gapes as her ears excitedly flap on their own. "Dawn would be so honored! No house elf has ever sat at the master's table! Dawn would know!"

"Good, I'll let grandfather know," Rowan muttered as she sliced open a soft biscuit to eat with jam for a snack.

Dawn happily runs off to inform her hubby, while Laldey returns to his work. Of trying to fold a tiny towel. For every house elf baby was first taught to fold a towel, it was tradition.

Then again, the Prince family is strange in many ways. At times, they were trés modern, and at other times rather traditional. But in the end, it didn't matter as the Prince always did what they felt like. And yes, that night for the first time in wizarding history three house elves dined with their master. And so, from that day forth it became a Sunday tradition for the masters to dine with their house elves. Maybe it wasn't world-changing to the masses, but to three house elves, it was most certainly life-changing.


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EsliEsma EsliEsma

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章節 333: Disappearance

The tall, thin figure of a hooded man can be seen at the edge of the gloomy forest. The moon was still rising as the days were still long and the nights short. Overhead a shadow flaps its wings through the forest swiftly approaching its intended target. The dark owl lets out a screech as it lands on a nearby branch intently staring at the hooded wizard with great yellow eyes.

"Shh, it's me, Crow," the man whispered in greeting. "I am here to collect the message from Sparrow."

The large dark owl lets out a screech in response and sticks out its leg. The wizard carefully removes the tiny rolled-up parchment scroll and carefully reads the message before burning the scroll. Scattering the ashes to the wind with his gloved hands, the wizard softly says, "It has become far too dangerous for crows and sparrows to meet. Do not return. I will send word when I can."

The black owl lets out a hoot of annoyance but leaps off its branch flapping its wings fiercely into the starry night. The hooded wizard quickly walks into the shadows and fades away. Yet not far off a youthful figure searches the forest before returning the way they came. A dark, curly-haired youth emerges from the woods at the edge of the Carrow Estate, S.R. Wilkes.

Those standing guard at the gates nod their heads at him, but S.R. Wilkes ignores them with robes sweeping behind him. Waiting within the front hall, the pudgy, stocky figures of the two Carrow siblings can be seen. The stocky young witch with stubby fingers lets out a high-pitched giggle at seeing him. "Hello Wilkes," Alecto Carrow breathlessly said, her stubby fingers intertwining in her hair.

S.R. Wilkes does not react to Alecto Carrow's rather unsubtle romantic cues. Who in their right mind would ever consider marrying Alecto Carrow? Not even the most desperate of wizards would ever pick her!

At her side, the doughy face and tiny eyes of Amycus Carrow can be seen eagerly watching the pair. Amycus Carrow was attempting to play as a matchmaker between his sister and S.R. Wilkes. Amycus nervously rubs the area of his missing finger, "Er, Wilkes, why not have dinner with us?" He invitingly said.

S.R. Wilkes paused mid-step quickly thinking of a polite excuse to turn down the invitation. "I have other errands to run for the Dark Lord, another time perhaps," S.R. Wilkes quickly lied before brushing self-importantly past them.

"Yes, of course!" Both siblings replied eagerly. Despite being several years older than S.R. Wilkes that did little to detour Alecto's affections. She had her eyes set on her man and she would not let him go quite so easily! And neither would her brother, since Amycus wanted S.R. Wilkes as his brother-in-law. The two siblings were joined together in a common cause! It was all for the greater good!

Further down the hall, loud sniffing can be heard from the perpetual red-eyed, puffy-faced widow Empusa Snyde, who could noisily be seen blowing her nose in the hallway. Empusa loudly sniffs and loudly wails her loss, "Ah, my poor Snyde would have so loved this!"

Clearing his throat rather loudly, S.R. Wilkes says, "Empusa have you any missives for me?"

Empusa wipes her nose and nasally answers, "Yes. The Dark Lord says to continue with the project at hand. He says, you have a natural talent for necromancy and are to aid him in the continued creation of the Inferi. The muggle vagrant population are perfect specimens to be used in their creation as none will notice their disappearance."

"I will endeavor not to disappoint the Dark Lord," S.R. Wilkes respectfully bowed his head, before moving past her. Once more the loud wails behind him commence again as Empusa lets out a cry and her trademark remark about her poor Snyde.

S.R. Wilkes nods in passing at several other Death Eaters among them is Antonin Dolohov, who merely sneers at S.R. Wilkes before brusquely brushing past him. S.R. Wilkes ignores the slight by arrogant Antonin Dolohov as Dolohvo was a very powerful wizard in his own right. It would be best not to further antagonize the dark wizard until S.R. Wilks was certain Dolohov could cleanly be dwelt with. A project for another day.

S.R. Wilkes opens the doors to the Carrow library. It had been dusty when he first started but since then the Carrow house elf had begun to clean the place as well. Though small when in comparison to others, it was a treasure trove of the dark arts. There were many volumes that no longer existed in this world, but in the Carrow Estate library, the forbidden knowledge remained preserved.

S.R. Wilkes paused at seeing the tall, thin, dark-haired wizard before him. A cold ice-like aura permeated all around the dark-haired, sharp-faced man, Rodolphus Lestrange. "I did not know the Dark Lord had given you the right of entry, Lestrange," S.R. Wilkes pointedly called out.

Rodolphus Lestrange closes his book with a snap and raises his bone-chilling gaze. "I do not see how that is any of your concern, Wilkes. Or are you my Nanny to know and care about my whereabouts?"

"I merely aim to protect the Dark Lord's interests," S.R. Wilkes crisply responded with narrowed eyes. Regardless of the slight, S.R. Wilkes gentle smile on his face does not disappear though it did crack just a tad bit.

"Is that so?" Rodolphus said as a cold smirk appeared on his face. "I did not know the Dark Lord had gained a mother nor much less a wife. But I suppose the Dark Lord could have other such interests."

In emphasis, Rodolphus runs his eyes slowly up and down S.R. Wilkes figure. "I suppose you'd be acceptable when it came to those kinds of things. Young and attractive, I can see why the Dark Lord would fall for your charms, Wilkes. Personally, though, I always believed it would be Pyrites. But I suppose in this case youth wins over experience in the end."

All trace of civility vanished from S.R. Wilkes face. "How dare you, Lestrange!" Wilkes enraged drew himself up. "There is no such disgusting relationship between the Dark Lord and me!"

"Ah, well," Rodolphus said as he put the book away into the folds of his robes. "Then do not stick your nose where it is unwanted, boy. Whether the Dark Lord has or has not given his permission is none of your concern, Wilkes."

S.R. Wilkes clenched his wand tight in hand as Rodolphus sneered and brushed past him. Rodolphus suddenly paused to brush off a green pine stem from S.R. Wilkes' shoulder. "And I am not to tolerate being chided?" Rodolphus's mused out loud. "What would the Dark Lord think of your nightly walks, Wilkes? You wouldn't happen to be a spy, now would you, Wilkes?"

S.R. Wilkes face contorted with rage as Rodolphus did not miss the annoyance nor the flicker in Wilkes eyes. Rodolphus did not betray himself as he said, "Good evening, Wilkes. Don't let the bed bugs bite," before sweeping out of the library.

S.R. Wilkes eyes narrow into slits as the doors closed shut behind Lestrange. He would need to kill Lestrange when the time came, but Dolohov was much more of an immediate threat. It was a shame that Bellatrix had died otherwise Lestrange would be remarkably malleable and easy to manipulate. But for the moment, S.R. Wilkes had more urgent things to take care of.

Turning away, S.R. Wilkes walks over to the bookshelf and finds what he sought. It was not a book on necromancy, but rather on ancient wards. Yes, it would prove most useful in time. But for the moment, he'd learn all that he could.


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EsliEsma EsliEsma

What is a crow, if not a creature always shrouded in mystery and death?

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