Saturday, March 25, 2000
Date: 04-15-06 20:17
A man and a woman stood on a dingy street in London and looked as if they were unsure of how to proceed. On the one hand, they could move towards the red telephone box and start new, stationary lives. On the other hand, they could turn around and continue to run, as they had done for the better part of two decades. However, the cause behind their twenty year flight no longer existed. They no longer feared for their lives. They had no reason to run anymore, with the exception of keeping their freedom.
That freedom had come with a price, however. The man and woman had hardly stayed in the same place for more than a few months on average, sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less. They had few friends as a result.
The man turned to the woman and gently took one of her hands. "Let's not run anymore," he told her. "There's nothing keeping us away from our home country anymore. We've got nothing to fear."
"What do you think will become of us?" the woman asked the man.
"A better fate than what we'd have if he still lived," the man replied.
"Of course, you are right." The woman sighed. She'd worried her whole life and while the future proved better now, it still was very much uncertain.
"Shall we?" asked the man.
She nodded. "We shall."
The couple walked to the telephone booth and stepped inside, closing the door behind them. The man dialed 6244 and then held his finger in the air in front of the 2 for a long moment.
The woman nodded encouragingly, though she looked a little frightened.
The man pushed down on the 2 and suddenly felt like an incredible weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The brevity lasted for only a moment, when a cool woman's voice echoed in the telephone box.
"Please state your name and business."
The man cleared his throat and realized that his hands were shaking. "Enoch Pilot," he finally managed. "I've come to turn myself in."
"And I'm Leona Pilot. I've come for the same purpose," said the man's wife.
Two silver badges popped out of the telephone's slot, both with the Pilots' names on them and the word Fugitive written behind it. Then the telephone box began to sink through the pavement into the underground. After a minute, it stopped in the Atrium.
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," said the cool voice.
And what a welcome it was. Standing just outside the telephone box were several aurors with their wands at the ready.
Date: 04-15-06 20:18
Walking into his office, Forest retrieves a mug of coffee he would have carried with him earlier if he'd known he was going to be out of the office so long after just pouring the cup. After tapping it with his wand to reheat the strong brew, Forest goes back to the interrogation room where an extremely elderly woman sits, defiance etched into every wrinkle on her face.
Just when Forest had finally forced himself to take days aways from the office, particularly weekends, the raid in Hogsmeade happened. In the exactly three weeks since that day, the two criminal law enforcement departments have worked overtime, though Forest is pretty sure Preston's managed to delegate enough that he's off at home today, sleeping in or playing with the kiddies or whatever.
The people arrested that day are a mixed group. Some have kept their mouths shut, even when offered time off their prison sentences. Others were begging to make deals even before their trials began. Following up leads and all the other work Voldemort's downfall has brought about has kept Hit Wizards and Aurors busy. The woman being interrogated this morning came from a lead that led to more leads, which led to even more. Forest is personally involved with the questioning this morning because of who the woman is.
Argenta Iolanthe Aesalon is not only extremely old but she's very wealthy with powerful connections. Minister Smythe-Jones herself requested that Forest handle Miss Aesalon and to make sure that the Daily Prophet has no reason to write scathing articles about the questioning of such an elderly woman of such high standing.
Forest sits down across the table from Miss Aesalon who fixes a dark blue eye on him then querulously says, "If my great great nephew Cornelius Fudge, we're related on his mother's side you know, were still Minister, I'd be given a much more comfortable place to sit."
Forest suppresses a grin. "We offered to do the questioning at your home but you refused so we did bring the chair from home you insisted on having, Miss Aesalon."
"Hmmmph. That may be so but the lighting in this room is bad on my eyes and the wall color is unspeakably awful. If I must be here, let's get on with it so I may go home with all due speed."
"Before we start do you need any more water or anything else," Forest asks, gesturing to the pitcher and glass on the table.
"Hot tea. Any quality blend will do. I require cream with it. No sugar or lemon but honey is a must."
Forest nods to Emily Pennington to get the tea then gives Miss Aesalon his full attention. "As you know, Miss Aesalon, the reason you've been brought in for these questions is because your name has been linked to the now deceased Voldemort."
The woman's face screws up, making it appear as though her wrinkles double in number. "Such a tragedy."
"Did you at any time give money to Voldemort's cause?"
Miss Aesalon stiffens, the defiance evident again. "What if I did? My money to do with as I please, now isn't it."
"Funding what amounts to a terrorist campaign is not legal so in some instances, no, you can't do with it as you please."
"Such a nice young man he was. So handsome. I didn't know at that time that the charming Tom Riddle was on the rise as Lord You-Know-Who. Why, if I'd been fifty years younger I might have..." Miss Aesalon's words trail off, she gets a dreamy look in her eye and giggles like a young girl.
Forest waits until she's done giggle then asks again, "Did you ever give any funds to Voldemort?"
"Weren't you paying attention just then? You're a looker too but I'm starting to wonder what's upstairs. Of course I gave him money all those years ago. Charmed it right out of me. Are we done here? It's time for my morning nap."
Forest sighs. This is not going to be the easiest interview he's ever conducted.
Date: 04-16-06 07:54
Professor McGonagall paced the Great Hall, watching as the students learning apparition practiced the three Ds. Most had made vast improvements over the past eight weeks, though several still struggled to accomplish even a splinching. Minerva didn't worry, however, as apparition was very difficult magic and simply required much more practice for some than for others. She was confident that they would all master apparition in time, even if not during the course of the twelve week-long lessons.
Scheduled for immediately after the eighth apparition lesson was the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. As always, Professor McGonagall rather looked forward to the match, particularly since her own house was playing. Gryffindor really needed a win. The house had merely tied its first match against Slytherin, and Gryffindor had lost in the Hufflepuff game. Minerva hated losing at Quidditch. At least today's matchup was against Ravenclaw, who'd yet to win a game this season.
A screeching noise drew Professor McGonagall away from her thoughts. Laura Madley had just apparated into her hoop, but she'd left both of her arms from the shoulder to the hand behind. Students nearby gaped at the sight. Splinching was still a very interesting sight to behold, even after the past eight weeks of witnessing it.
Minerva and Professor Miller rushed at Laura and waved their wands. There was a bang and a cloud of purple smoke. When it cleared, Laura had her arms connected to her body. She looked a little distressed. It hadn't been the first time she'd splinched herself during an apparition lesson, but it still didn't feel normal or particularly comfortable.
"All right, class. Let's try again," Wilkie Twycross said. "Remember the three Ds!"
There were some grumblings about the three Ds, but the students put their minds to the task and prepared for another practice round.
Date: 04-16-06 09:09
Ethan flooed from his Greenwich duplex to the Ministry of Magic after receiving an urgent owl from the Auror Office. Enoch and Leona Pilot had turned themselves in, and the big question was why? All the other 'parents' of the Project 25ers who were still on the run obviously had no intention of ever getting caught. They were still loyal to Voldemort, even now after his death. What made the Pilots so different from the rest?
Unlike the others, the Pilots had been virtually untraceable. Ethan's own parents, for example, like the rest of the Project 25 adoptive parents had lived respectful, public lives. There never had been a reason for them to hide, until Ethan had made the discovery that they weren't at all who he'd always thought them to be. Why had the Pilots been in hiding for so long? Why had they seemingly been on the run? From whom had they fled?
These were all questions Ethan hoped to learn.
Tonks arrived in the next fireplace and joined Ethan at the lift. "Is it true?" she asked him. "Are the Pilots really here?"
"I think we're about to find out," he said.
They stepped into the lift and went to Level 2, where they stepped off and went to the Auror HQ. They were met by the auror who'd sent out the owls. He sent Tonks off to talk with the Hartenians and Damien Freeman, who'd all been assigned to track down the Pilots, while Ethan was led to an interrogation room.
He found there two wizards who looked older than their years. They were probably in their sixties, perhaps late fifties, but something had aged them so severely that they looked as if they were gravely ill great grandparents.
Ethan had a word with the auror on watch and then sat down opposite the Pilots.
"Hello. My name is Ethan Somerset. Can you tell me why you decided to turn yourselves in to the Ministry of Magic after twenty-five years of hiding?"
Enoch spoke first. "We have no more reason to run."
"Can you elaborate on that statement?"
"Why don't I start from the beginning?" Enoch suggested. "It will make much more sense if I tell you the whole story, rather than just the ending."
Ethan nodded. "Very well. Tell me everything."
Date: 04-16-06 09:49
Cradling her nephew Jordan in one arm, Saffron fingers a green and blue baby blanket, saying to Sassy, "Deanna does nice work."
"She also made the outfit Jordan's got on. I did tell you they're coming by around 11?"
Saffron nods, "I'll have left by then. Don't want to expose Jordan here to Da's anger so early in life."
"There's always a chance Da wouldn't express anger at running into you," Sassy optimistically replies.
"Care to calculate the odds on that and make a bet?" Saffron laughs.
Sassy grins at her sister. "Um, that would be a no." Sassy turns more serious. "It's awful the way he's been acting. More childish than usual. You think Da's going through some sort of mid-life crisis?"
Saffron puts the sleeping Jordan in his crib then turns to face Sassy. "If he is, you know what else might happen?"
Sassy sadly nods. "Deanna's sweet. I hope he doesn't dump her. That would be bad enough but then he has to go and date a string of bimbos in between wives."
Back in the kitchen, Sassy puts the kettle on for tea. Saffron sits down at the table, saying, "Speaking of dumping, when I leave here it's to meet with Gautier. He's still being a pain about signing the divorce papers."
"I always liked Gautier but after the way he left, my opinion's greatly changed. I'm glad you're not buying into his I love you still and want you back crap."
"He doesn't know I know there were others after Bev. Gautier keeps reminding me he left Bev after only two weeks. There's been no apology. No explanation of why he took up with her in the first place. No expression of sorrow. Gautier is an intelligent man but on all this he's dumber than a flobberworm."
A short time later, reinforced by a cup of Sassy's excellent tea, Saffron leaves her sister's to meet up with the man she hopes will soon be her ex-husband.
Date: 04-16-06 11:21
Professor Snape monitored the apparition lesson apathetically, more eager to be elsewhere than in the presence of students attempting to disapparate without much success. A couple had succeeded by now, but most still struggled with the difficult spell. With nearly each try the students made, Severus had to unsplinch someone, if anything happened at all. Sometimes only silence followed the three Ds instead of the loud pops that came with apparition.
By all rights, Severus should have been in Azkaban. He had, after all, told the auror interrogating him absolutely everything regarding his involvement with both the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters, which included his slaying of Ulfin Applebaum, the unfortunate Hogsmeade resident who'd been kidnapped by Voldemort's goons during the Dark Lord's residency beneath the Hogsmeade Cemetery.
It had only been after a discussion with Dumbledore that Severus had decided to admit his part in an innocent wizard's death. His choice had been either to remain silent on the matter with the intention of not stirring up more trouble for the Order as well as to continue to lend his aid to the group, should the need arise, or to tell the whole truth. Voldemort was dead now, after all. Severus was no longer an undercover agent. He had nothing more to hide.
In making his confession, he had condemned himself to prison. However, a plea bargain had been struck between Madam Bones and Forest Woods and Severus and Albus. Severus would remain free to complete the school year at Hogwarts but would go to Azkaban for the period of one year starting on July 1, 2000. The period onwards until that date would allow Snape to finish preparing his N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. students for their summer exams and would give Albus time to find a suitable substitute Potions professor for the following school year.
Woods might not have trusted either Dumbledore or Snape after the Hogsmeade raid business, but Amelia Bones trusted Dumbledore's judgment. Albus had ensured that Severus would not run and Severus had given his word, for whatever it was worth. He had no intention of even leaving the country. For now he would simply carry out his tasks at Hogwarts until it was time for him to go to Azkaban.
There was, of course, the slight probability that strong action would be taken against the Order for its involvement in the Hogsmeade raid. If all members went to prison, Snape's term would likely change. He knew this, but worried little. The world was a better place without Voldemort, and if Snape remained in prison for the rest of his life because of his part in Voldemort's downfall, then so be it.
Date: 04-16-06 15:25
After eighteen hours of labor, Hendrika tiredly asks, "Is it really over?"
Her Healer replies over lusty crying, "The hardest part is. Just need to cut the umbilical cord and there's still the afterbirth."
A nurse put the baby on Hendrika's stomach as the Healer says, "Charlie, you remember what we talked about for cutting the cord?"
In a daze that he's a father, Charlie mutely nods, never taking his eyes off his son until the Healer gently prods, "Charlie, the cord."
Seconds later, the cord is cut and Charlie's staring at the baby again. Moments after that, the final part of labor over, Hendrika's eyes are fluttering to stay open and one of the nurses has taken the baby to wash him off and do all the things done with newborns. Another leads Charlie out of the delivery room then asks, quill poised over clipboard, is asking Charlie if they have a name yet.
"Yes, his name is Charles Schuyler Weasley."
She jots down the name, clarifying the spelling Hendrika and Charlie want then says, "Mrs. Weasley will be in her room soon but will probably sleep for awhile. Do you have any family here?"
"My parents and some others but I'm not sure who."
"By the time you go give them the news, I'll have your son ready for you to hold. I'll come get you in the waiting room and one or both of your parents may come with you if you wish."
Charlie nods and still in a daze walks off in the direction the grinning nurse sends him. Reaching the waiting room, Charlie's met by a sea of familiar faces, Molly's and Arthur's standing out from the crowd. Charlie clears his throat. "Weighing 7 pounds, 5 ounces is the newest member of the family, Charles Schuyler Weasley, to be called Schuyler."
Date: 04-16-06 17:16
Fionna does more than stare at the hoop in front of her. She glares, angry that so far she's not successfully apparated. She's come close. Extremely close. Every near success has Fionna leaving a little something behind, thus she's technically splinched. A fingertip here, an eyebrow there. Always something doesn't make it through.
Professor Twycross gives the go ahead for the next try. For once, Fionna doesn't go through the three Ds in her mind. She just looks at the hoop in front of her and pictures herself standing in the middle of it. Something around Fionna goes POP and when she looks around, she finds herself standing in the hoop. Upon further inspection, Fionna is both shocked and estactic that she didn't splinch this time. She's finally done it!
Eager to try again now that she's had a completely successful attempt, Fionna hurries to get set back up to try again. She's so eager to go again that Fionna loses some of her focus, too busy mentally patting herself on the back. When the signal comes for this attempt, Fionna finds herself spinning in place. She went nowhere and didn't even splinch a single piece of herself.
Professor Twycross speaks words of encouragement, reminding them all once again why splinching does occur and why some efforts leave a person standing in the exact same spot as if nothing's taken place. Hearing the professor slowly go over the three Ds yet again has Fionna grinding her teeth. She's sure that by now every other student and the Heads of Houses are as tired of hearing him say the exact same things, repeated countless times each Saturday.
Fionna closes her eyes and takes deep, calming breaths, thinking about standing in the middle of that hoop and not thinking about Professor Twycross's droning voice. Opening her eyes, Fionna fixes them on the spot where she wants to be standing and waits for the signal.
POP
Fionna smiles broadly, looking around to make sure she didn't splinch anything again. The smile grows bigger when Fionna happily realizes she's just made her second successful apparition.