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Author: VelvetMouse Story: Thrice Defied Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Completed Reviews: 1 Words: 5,540 Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to my beta, Sherry. And thank you to my recipient for giving me an excuse to give some more screen time to these often-neglected characters! I hope you enjoy it. Written for the LJ Community HP_HolidayGenFic fic exchange. ———————————————— The Ministry's Holiday Fete was a bustling affair, crowded to the point of being overwhelming. Alice Stanton looked longingly at the open doors that led to the courtyard. December in London was not a pleasant time, but it was certainly better than the stifling heat of the ballroom. But trapped as she was, between a table of refreshments and the wall, she could do little but sigh and wish. She was about to turn back to the table to replenish her glass of wine when she felt her fiancé stiffen at her side. That was her only warning, and she just had time to set down her empty glass before they were set upon by an aristocratic couple. "Lord Malfoy," her fiancé greeted the man, and Alice dropped a brief curtsy. "Cissy," Alice greeted the other woman with a slight smile. The piercing blue eyes of the lady in question softened perceptibly and the superior smirk that graced the immaculately colored lips settled into a true smile. "Alice, it is good to see you." "Lord Longbottom," Malfoy greeted, extending his hand. "Let me express my condolences on the loss of your esteemed father. He was truly a giant among men. I cannot say, however, that I am displeased that you will be joining us in the Wizengamot. A time of great changes are upon us, and we can use some fresh blood." "Thank you, Lucius," Frank replied mildly. "His loss was a blow to us all. I only hope I am prepared for the first session after the New Year. Perhaps you could enlighten me as to some of the issues that will be discussed?" "Alice, will you take a turn with me?" Narcissa Black-Malfoy requested, and hooked her arm into the other woman's. "We can go get some air while the men discuss politics." The last word was said with such venom that Alice had to laugh as she allowed herself to be escorted away. Narcissa might protest against discussing the dealings of the Ministry and Wizengamot, but Alice knew that their conversation would be no less political in nature than the men's was. "I love your robes," Narcissa commented as she skillfully led them through the ebb and flow of the bodies towards the open doors. "Not many women can wear jewel tones, but that green works perfectly on you." Alice blushed. "Thank you. This is the first big event since the engagement, so both Mama and Lady Augusta were determined to pull out all the stops. I felt rather like a life-sized doll. I'm just glad they finally agreed on what I should wear! We must have spent days with Madame Jeanette." Narcissa chuckled knowingly. "Just wait until you start planning the wedding, my dear," she pointed out, and Alice groaned. "I was lucky — I don't know if we ever would have survived if Lady Malfoy had been alive to argue every point with Mother. Have patience, my darling Red Queen, and try not to hex anyone." Alice smiled at her childhood nickname. The Stantons were a cadet branch of the Rosier clan, making Narcissa her fourth (or was it fifth? Genealogy always gave Alice a headache.) cousin. As the youngest daughters of each of their families, they had often been thrown together in the children's room at family gatherings, even long after their older siblings had graduated to the main party. One year, the hoard of young cousins had been determined to play "Alice in Wonderland" after one girl had received the book as a present. Alice had staunchly refused to play her name-sake, preferring instead the more energetic role of the Red Queen. The phrase "Off with their heads!" could still reduce normally stoic purebloods to helpless laughter. "I'll try, Cissy. I really will. How are things with you? Should we be expecting an heir sometime soon?" Alice asked, with a meaningful glance at her companion's mid-section. "Soon, but not yet. Lucius has agreed to allow me to finish my Healer training first. I won't be able to practice, of course, at least not in public, but I was finally able to persuade him that having a trained Healer in the house might prove convenient." "Oh, I'm so glad. A woman should always have skills to fall back on, just in case something dreadful should happen." "Speaking of skills, how is being an Auror? Aren't you just ready to hex half the Ministry?" Alice laughed quietly. "Not quite, although I think Frank might be. Because I know my way around a cauldron better than I do a list of hexes, they've put me in a new subdivision called Forensics. It's based on some Muggle ideas that you can learn an awful lot about a crime scene from the evidence that is left there. That way you don't have to rely on finding a witness, or catching the criminal and dousing him with Truth Serum." "Muggle ideas, you say?" Narcissa asked, making a face. "Why on earth would we want to emulate them?" "They seem to have some pretty good ideas, sometimes. They do their forensics looking for things like finger prints, which are unique on every person, and hair or a little bit of blood that got spilled. We can take it a step further and look at the magical traces to see if we can pick up a wand signature, or even what spells were used. A remarkable idea, really." "You sound as if you admire them," Narcissa sneered. "I suppose in some ways I do. They exist with such a handicap — I mean, can you imagine not having any magic at all? — and they still come up with all sorts of ways to compensate. They're not as backwards as they were three hundred years ago, Cissy. They've come a long way, even in just the last century." Narcissa shuddered delicately. "That's all well and good, but really, they're just too different. Muggleborns come in and are completely ignorant of our traditions. And rather than try to learn, they spend all their time criticizing us and expecting everyone to bend over backwards to accommodate them! They're better off staying where they were." "So you'd rather have a whole bunch of untrained witches and wizards running around in the Muggle world, causing Merlin only knows what kind of havoc?" "Fine," Narcissa huffed. "Create a separate school for them, train them to control their magic, and send them back where they came from. Or better yet, find a way to suppress their magic entirely. They won't miss it and they certainly don't deserve it!" "Cissy! That's awful!" Alice scolded. But Narcissa merely shrugged. "So were the witch burnings and persecutions. So is the way they defile our traditions and mock our customs. I'm not the only one who feels this way, Alice. You'd better rethink your position before it become even more dangerous." "I will never bow to your Lord," Alice hissed in Narcissa's ear. "I wouldn't think you would either, no matter what ideals he was spouting. Blacks don't serve anyone but themselves — isn't that what you always told me?" "We all serve someone, Alice. I just hope you can live with your choice," Narcissa replied coldly, and swept off through the crowd. Alice took several deep breaths, allowing the cold winter air to fill her lungs and cool the rage and frustration that were burning inside her. She then plastered a pleasant smile on her face and drifted back towards the ballroom, chatting with several people she knew along the way. Eventually she was dragged back out to dance by Sirius Black. "So, did you have fun chatting with our dear cousin, the Ice Queen herself?" he asked as he maneuvered them through a skillful, if energetic, waltz. "Siri!" Alice exclaimed, whapping him on the shoulder, which caused him to pout at her. "Be nice. I know you've never got along with her, but really." The young man looked uncharacteristically grim. "Be careful around her, Alice. From what we've been able to tell, Lucius is very high up in the ranks of the Death Eaters — possibly You-Know-Who's own second." "We?" she asked. "Who's we? Not the Aurors, certainly." "Just a group of like-minded people who are trying to do what we can to mitigate the efforts of the Death Eaters. You should speak with Headmaster Dumbledore if you want to know more." Try as she might, Alice was unable to wheedle any more information from Sirius for the rest of their dance. "Well, that was fun," she commented to Frank as he reclaimed her for the next dance. "What was? Talking with Narcissa or the way Black was manhandling you around the dance floor?" "Both," she replied with a chuckle, but then sobered. "I don't know if Cissy was trying to recruit me or warn me. She seems quite confident in You-Know-Who's position of strength, though. And Sirius — he was definitely trying to recruit me for their side. He said to talk to Dumbledore if we were interested." Frank nodded. "He mentioned something similar to me a few days ago. I told him I'd think about it and talk to you. Lucius was clearly trying to recruit me. He kept bringing up the long-standing alliances between the Longbottoms and Malfoys, and how our great-grandfathers co-wrote some of the most important laws together, and how our families are two of the last bastions of tradition and decency, and so on. I put him off as best I could, but I won't be able to play the 'I'm new at this' card for very long." He paused. "I'm afraid we're not going to be able to stay neutral in this, love." "I know." Alice leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Your Gryffindor nobility wouldn't allow you to, anyway," she teased. "Oh, like your Hufflepuff loyalty would?" he teased back. They danced in silence for a few moments. "I suppose we should go see the Headmaster, then," Alice declared and began leading her fiancé off the dance floor. "What? Now?" Frank asked in surprise. Alice shrugged. "Why not? I'm sure he's somewhere around here, and the sooner we find him, the sooner we find out that is really going on. I may have been a Hufflepuff, but my mother was a Ravenclaw, and like her, I always do better with more information." Frank merely smiled and took her hand, leading her through the crowds of people in search of their former Headmaster. While it might not have been the tropical paradise that so many of her friends seemed to run off to, Paris in May was about as close to heaven as Alice could imagine. Which was, of course, why she had suggested it for their honeymoon. Their first four days in Paris had been a whirlwind of romance, sights and food. Alice wished that they could have spent a month on holiday, as many of their friends had; but the tension was building back home, with Death Eater attacks becoming more and more frequent, and every Auror was needed to help stem the tide. Director Crouch had only grudgingly approved their week's absence as it was. Alice was certain that if he could have found a way to deny them, he would have done. It was not until they were on their way home from supper on that fourth evening that their illusion of peace was shattered. Having decided to venture into Muggle Paris for the evening, Frank and Alice were strolling back to their hotel, which served as the bridge between the city's Muggle and Magical sections. Suddenly, Frank pulled her into a small alleyway and began kissing her passionately. Alice was puzzled, but responded enthusiastically; she had seen several young couples doing this, and thought it looked rather exciting and deliciously scandalous. But every time she started to contemplate suggesting it to Frank, she could hear her mother's voice ringing in her head, "…conduct unbecoming of a lady of your station…" Frank paused several times, almost as if listening for something, and then confused his new wife further by just as suddenly pulling her out of the alley and gently, but firmly, leading her over to a crepe stand. "Frank? Wha—" Alice began to ask. But he cut her off with a finger over her mouth and a slight shake of his head. He then proceeded to order a crepe in nearly un-accented French, despite the fact that they had only recently finished a large dinner. Alice knew that both of them spoke French well enough to get by, but she had never heard her husband speak that fluently. Upon acquiring the Nutella-filled concoction, Frank draped one arm around his wife's shoulders and held the crepe between them, keeping his head down and occasionally offering Alice a bite. They strolled along slowly, seemingly oblivious to the people around them. "Don't be obvious about it," Frank whispered in her ear, "but glance over to that bench up ahead." Alice made a show of taking a bite and then needing to wipe the chocolate off of the corners of her mouth, using the movement to cover the turn of her head. It took all of her self-control not to stiffen at what she saw. "Trixie! And her husband, what's his name? Rodolphus?" she hissed back. Frank smiled broadly and nuzzled her hair, as if she had just said something adorable. "That's what I thought. I spotted them shortly after we left the restaurant," he murmured. "Are they after us?" Alice whispered nervously. She was a trained Auror, yes, but most of her time was spent either in the lab at the Ministry or at crime scenes. Even her work for the Order tended more towards analysis and lab work than being out in the field. "I'm not sure. I don't think they've spotted us, and I'd like to keep it that way." Alice nodded and deliberately scooped up some of the Nutella on her finger and fed it to her husband. "They look like they're getting up and heading towards the hotel as well," she said, switching to French, but keeping her voice low so that her lack of Parisian accent would be less noticeable. "Let's continue on, then. They're probably staying in the same place we are. It's certainly the most logical place." The short walk to the hotel was one of the more nerve-wracking experiences of Alice's life, trying to pretend everything was normal while still keeping a discrete eye on the couple ahead of them. The gods of luck must have been smiling on them, however, for they entered the lobby just in time to hear Bellatrix demanding (in English) that a copy of the Daily Prophet be sent up to room 305b in the morning. Alice was puzzled — she knew that Trixie spoke French as fluently as she did English. All three Black sisters had been brought up speaking not only English, but French and German as well. Alice's own proficiencies in the languages were largely due to Cissy's patient tutoring. She mentioned as much to Frank when they were finally ensconced safely in their own rooms, a floor below the Lestranges. "Odd," he commented thoughtfully. "Perhaps Rodolphus doesn't speak French and she wanted him to know what she was saying?" Alice gave her husband a skeptical look. "I know the Lestranges aren't an overly powerful family in Britain, but that's because the family is split between Cornwall and Nice. Are you really going to tell me that they're not brought up speaking French?" "Oh. Hmm. I suppose not. So they're playing a role? Typical English tourists? But why? Unless what Bellatrix was saying was code somehow, and she was actually passing along a message." "You've been reading those James Bond books, haven't you, Frank?" Alice asked with a groan. Remus Lupin had given Sirius the complete set of books for Christmas, and they had slowly been making their way through all the male members of the Order ever since. Of course, Alice had already read them, having borrowed the set from Lily Evans — no, Potter, now — long before Sirius ever knew who 007 was. Not that either woman would be mentioning that any time soon. "Longbottom. Frank Longbottom," he replied with what he probably thought was a rakish grin. The only possible response for Alice was to hit him across the head with a pillow, which quickly degenerated into a pillow fight. "You know, you may be right," Alice said finally, after they had calmed down again and a few quick Reparo's had fixed the damaged pillows. "Of course I am. Er, about what?" "Trixie passing a message, you dolt. Didn't Dumbledore say that there had been an unexpected downturn in Death Eater activity recently?" "Sure, even the Director noticed. That's probably the only reason he allowed us to go on our own damned honeymoon," Frank replied, but he still looked puzzled. "So what if the reason for the downturn is that You-Know-Who is sending all his top people off to recruit more followers? We know Bellatrix is up to her pretty brown eyes in whatever is going on, and didn't you say that Lucius was out of the country for a few weeks?" It was Frank's turn to groan. "We should try to find out what they're up to, shouldn't we?" "I'm afraid so, love." Alice sighed. "So much for a nice, relaxing, honeymoon. So, how should we do this?" The next morning found Frank and Alice seated at a park bench that afforded a good view of the hotel's entrance, their true appearance concealed by a glamour. Well, Frank's appearance was concealed by a glamour. He read the newspaper, drank his coffee and occasionally reached down to rub the stomach of the small hound at his feet. Alice's Animagus form was a closely guarded secret — only her husband and her immediate supervisor knew. Even Dumbledore and Director Crouch were unaware that she had mastered the transformation, and Alice was keen on keeping it that way. Finally, after what seemed like hours of waiting, they spotted Bellatrix and her husband leaving the hotel. Casually, Frank stood, picked up the leash and strolled off in the same direction, just a man taking his dog for a morning walk. He let himself get close enough at one point to allow Alice's sensitive nose to pick up Bellatrix's scent and then dropped back again. Despite the glamour, Frank was not eager to stay too close. Fortunately, the Lestranges' path kept them on main roads, allowing Frank to lose himself in the natural flow of people. Although Rodolphus stopped at one point and seemed to check himself and his wife for any sort of magical tracking, neither one seemed overly worried that they were being followed. Eventually, they came to another small park, this one more wooded than the one across from the hotel. Frank picked up Alice as he watched the Lestranges disappear into a secluded copse of trees. "Go chase a squirrel or something," he whispered in her ear. "Try to get around behind them. I'll come from this side. Don't confront them yet, I want to see if we can find out what they're doing here." Alice growled slightly and squirmed to be let down. She did indeed find a squirrel to chase and spent several happy minutes stalking and terrorizing the small furry creature. She refrained from barking, however, not wanting to give their two-legged quarry any reason to become suspicious. As she drew closer, she could hear one of them pacing back and forth. Bellatrix, her nose identified, as her cousin's slightly spicy scent strengthened and weakened. "Where is he?" she heard Bellatrix grumble. "Simon said he'd be here." "He will," Rodolphus replied placidly. "He'll be here and he'll have the list of names. He wouldn't dare insult our Lord by standing us up." "But…" "He'll be here, Bella." "Not this time, Lestrange," a third voice said, and Alice saw her husband step out from behind one of the larger trees, wand trained on the couple in front of him. "Just what were you hoping to accomplish here anyway?" Bellatrix laughed, although it sounded more like a cackle. "And why should we answer anything, Longbottom? We have you out-numbered." She started advancing on Frank. "In fact, I think an Auror would make a lovely present for our Lord," she purred. "I don't think so, Trixie," Alice said, leveling her wand at the other witch's back. "I see even numbers from where I'm standing. And I always was a better shot than you." Rodolphus spun around to face Alice, so that he was back-to-back with his wife. All four wands were drawn and everyone stood frozen for a moment. Then Bellatrix swore softly, grabbed her husband's hand, and the two disappeared with a pop. "Portkey," Frank spat. Alice sighed and reholstered her wand. "Dammit. Should have known they'd have one. I'll contact Dumbledore and the department, if you'll get in touch with the local Auror force. We at least have something of a name to give them. I doubt this will be the last time You-Know-Who tries to recruit over here." "Deal." They walked in silence back to the hotel. "Frank?" Alice asked quietly when they got to their room. "The next time I suggest a holiday, Stun me, okay? I think I'd rather stay home." Laughter rang off the walls, a single bright spot in an increasingly darkening world. Alice finally understood the concept of FUBAR. Some of the Muggle-borns in the Order had been trying to explain it to their pureblooded peers. Alice had smiled indulgently while wincing internally at the vulgar language. But now, pinned down by spell-fire in the gardens of the Rosier estate, she truly understood — both the concept and the need for strong language. She flinched as another spell flew over her head and landed a dozen feet behind her, kicking up dirt and plant material. It was supposed to have been merely a reconnaissance mission, with Alice acting as a guide. She had been reluctant — the Rosiers were, after all, still family — but Dumbledore was convinced that it was a regular meeting place for Death Eaters, possibly with You-Know-Who in attendance some of the time. So she had eventually agreed to guide Frank and the Prewett brothers through the wards and around the grounds to see what they could find out. She had drawn the line at actually entering the house, convinced that there was no way they could do that without being detected. She had thought the gardens and grounds would be safe enough. Few purebloods ventured outside after dark, and most relied on their wards to protect their homes. She had slipped through the wards easily enough, and between being recognized as family and a few tricks she had picked up from other Aurors, it was relatively simple to get her husband and the Prewett brothers through as well. She had led them through the gardens she had played in as a child until they had found a spot that afforded a clear view of the windows of the study and drawing room — the two most likely places for a gathering. A few quick probes had proven that the house was well warded against most outside magics, making it nearly impossible to eavesdrop. But this was an expected hurdle — at least given how calmly Fabian and Gideon had nodded at each other, and then started pulling objects out of a knapsack they had brought with them. Several pairs of Omnioculars appeared, and the four spies settled in to keep watch on the house. The first few hours had been quiet. They managed to identify almost half a dozen individuals, most of whom were already on the Order's list of known Death Eaters. There was little more they could do — the Omniocular recordings would be given to one of the Order's members who happened to be exceptionally good at lip-reading — and Alice was about to suggest they pack it in and retreat when all hell broke loose. She wasn't sure whether they had tripped an undetected ward or if a house-elf had somehow spotted them. Or maybe someone looking out a window just got lucky and caught a glint of moonlight off the lens of one of the Omnioculars. Whatever the reason, one moment they were watching the house quietly and the next, several windows flew open and the four spies were suddenly dodging spell fire. They scattered, Alice and Fabian going one way, while Frank and Gideon went another. Soon, they had been forced to split again to give their attackers more targets. Alice crouched behind a large marble statue of a sphinx — one that she had spent many happy hours "riding" as a child, she noted irreverently. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw movement and tensed, ready to fire a spell at a moment's notice. Fortunately for her, and for the approaching figure, the shape passed through a patch of moon light, revealing the distinctive auburn hair of a Prewett. Fabian, she decided, as the dark shape resolve itself into recognizable features. "How far to the edge of the wards?" he whispered in her ear. Alice closed her eyes in concentration, trying to pinpoint exactly where they were. "Point Me," she whispered and watched as the tip of the wand spun to point north. "About 200 yards that way," she replied with a slight gesture. "The formal gardens end and then there should be a strip of wooded area. The wards end somewhere in the middle of that." "Right. Let's see if we can fi—" Fabian broke off mid-sentence and his head snapped towards another part of the garden. "Gideon's hurt!" he hissed and took off at a run. Alice swore and followed after him more carefully. She was not about to doubt his statement — the twins had an uncanny ability to know where the other one was. It was a skill that had served them well on many missions. They raced through the garden, dodging spells, statues and plants, until Fabian suddenly skidded to a halt. When Alice caught up, she found her husband frantically trying to staunch the bleeding from a large wound in Gideon's side. Fabian immediately dropped to his knees to help, while Alice stood guard. "What happened?" "A curse hit that statue and it exploded," Frank replied, gesturing behind him without looking up. "Gid caught a bunch of the shrapnel in his side." "Merde," Alice swore and looked around frantically. The spell fire was picking up in both frequency and accuracy now that those in the house had stationary targets. "We've got to get him out of here. The ward line is in the middle of that forested area. Take him and run, Fabian. Get out of here. Frank and I will cover you." Fabian didn't waste his breath replying, just picked up his brother and began running toward the woods. Frank and Alice followed at a slower pace, trying to maintain as many shields as they could. Just when Alice thought they might make it, the pattern of attacks changed, and started coming from two directions at once. Someone had left the safety of the house to come after them. "Go go go!" Alice shouted, knowing that stealth was useless now. A single figure was approaching them, clearly visible in the garden. He was radiating such an aura of power that the canine instincts of Alice's Animagus form were telling her to roll over and present her throat in submission. Frank and Alice shared a quick glance; there were few wizards who could generate that kind of power, and only one who might be there tonight. The Dark Lord had come for them personally. "So," a smooth voice cut across the darkness, "Dumbledore's little spies prove to be none other the newly wedded Longbottoms. My my, what would Lady Augusta say if she knew?" "That she was damned proud of us for sticking up for our beliefs," Frank growled. "Would she now? Or would she be shocked and horrified that you were violating the home of another ancient family, one that is now related to you by marriage?" "What do you want?" "What do I want? Ah, now, that is the question." The man known as Lord Voldemort clasped his hands behind his back and strolled back and forth as if in front of a lecture hall. "I want our ancient and noble traditions to be upheld. I want to walk through Diagon Alley confident that each and every person understands his or her place in our world. I want to live without the fear that a slip of the tongue, a word overheard at the wrong time, will bring our society crashing down around us. I have seen what havoc the Muggles can wreak — I was in London when the bombs began to fall — and I want to protect each and every witch and wizard from that horror." For a moment — just a moment — Alice ceased to hear the message the man in front of her was trying to impart and was caught up in the eloquence and passion that he exuded. It was almost intoxicating, and suddenly she could understand why so many of her cousins had chosen to follow him. She shook her head to clear it, only to discover that Frank was already speaking. "… think that torturing and murdering Muggles is okay? How exactly will that make us safer? If anything, I would think that would make them more likely to try to find out about our world and retaliate!" "Petty diversions for petty men," Voldemort replied with a careless shrug. "I do what I can, but they are like children with a new toy. They will play with it until it either breaks or they tired of it and move on to other amusements. Contrary to what most seem to believe, I do not despise all Muggles. They have their strengths and talents, just as wizards do." He gave them a small, soft smile that would have been utterly charming if it had actually reached his eyes. But it did not; they remained cold, flat and calculating, as if weighing and judging their every reaction. Alice flinched slightly as he met her gaze, but resisted the urge to take a step backwards. "Few ever take the time to truly understand what I am arguing for," he continued. "Even your great Albus Dumbledore has never asked. He painted me with a single color when I was eleven years old — eleven, can you imagine? — and never bothered to look again. That I might grow, might change, might have reasons and logic behind my arguments does not seem to have occurred to him. He sees what he wants to see and hears what he wants to hear, and I am apparently to be the villain in his little drama." He shook his head sadly. "Do yourselves a favor, Lord and Lady Longbottom, and think before you follow. There are too few truly intelligent people in this world. Do not let yourselves become sheep." Then Lord Voldemort made a shoo-ing motion with his hand, and before Frank or Alice could respond, he calmly turned and began walking back to the house, as if he had simply taken a bit of a nighttime stroll. Alice shook her head at the man's arrogance, and put her hand on Frank's arm, when he raised his wand to fire a curse at the back of the Dark Lord. "Don't," she hissed warningly. "He's letting us walk away. Let's get out of here before he changes his mind." She tugged on her husband's arm again, and Frank reluctantly lowered his wand. Once clear of the wards, they Apparated back to the small flat that had been their designated meeting area for this mission. "Fabian took Gid straight off to St. Mungo's," Frank said quietly, looking at a small scrap of parchment that lay on the table. Alice nodded absently; the reality of the night was catching up to her and she suddenly found herself shaking like a leaf. "D-did we really just confront Y-you-Know-W-who h-h-himself?" she stuttered. "We did," Frank agreed, drawing her into a tight hug. "And we even lived to tell about it. Speaking of telling…" "We should head up to Hogwarts and talk to Dumbledore. He'll be able to find out about Gideon faster than we will. So, want to use those nice Auror privileges and make us a Portkey to Hogsmeade? I don't think I'm up for Apparating that far tonight." Without releasing her, Frank tapped the note that Fabian had left, and activated the Portkey. It was time to find help. |