So he walked up to them. One of the boys saw him and jumped up. He was very tall, surely no less than 6‘4”, and the black Mohawk haircut with its purple strands made him tower even higher. He shushed his chuckling mates and jerked his chin in Daysen’s direction, prompting the others to turn around with wary stares. Jack saw another boy hectically drop the spliff they’d been passing around. The volume of the music was swiftly turned down.
‘What’s up?’ the Mohawk boy asked and looked Daysen up and down. ‘Did the city council send ya?’
Jack said nothing. It was his experience that not giving anything away usually made the other party talk. He felt superior enough to not even bother to check for his wand; instead, he just looked around pointedly, took in the faces. There were a couple of girls, too, no older than sixteen perhaps and dressed in unrelieved black, like Greek widows. They all wore heavy black eyeliner, even the boys.
‘Another bouncer?’ This from one of the girls. ‘Fuck that, my gran could wrestle him down ���’
‘Wimp’, someone growled.
Jack ignored the interjections with the nonchalance of someone who knew that he could best these teens with a mere wave of the hand; the only thing he gave them was an interested and at the same time infinitely sardonic look.
‘Sorry, mate’, said the tall boy to Daysen, ‘but we’re not gonna go. You people are trying to make us, but it’ll need a little more than just you to drive us out.’
‘I haven’t come to evict you’, Daysen drawled lazily.
Someone whooped. ‘Uh-oh, they sent us a posh one ���’
‘What are you here for then?’
But again, Jack didn’t grace the tall boy with a reply. ‘Shouldn’t you all be in school?’ he asked instead.
Neighing laughter answered.
‘School’s out’, the Mohawk boy said with a broad grin, ‘been out for a long time.’
‘I see’, said Daysen, ‘and instead you spend most of your time here?’
‘What’s it to you, chicken chest?’ hissed the second girl.
‘Hey, easy!’ The Mohawk boy appeared to be their leader and in fact there was something about him ��� a very subtle superiority ��� that made the others heed his words. Sure enough, the girl gave him a finger, but it was obvious to Jack that this was their usual way of showing each other affection. The tall boy turned to Daysen again. ‘No manners, them’, he said with a sarcastic sneer, ‘but she’s right, you know, why are you so bloody interested?’
‘Because I’m looking for someone’, Daysen replied.
They stared at him blankly for a few seconds before the sneers resurfaced.
‘So you’ve lost someone?’ The tall boy again. ‘Let me guess: your little girl’s gone off and you’re afraid she got in with the wrong element? The likes of us and shit?’ He grinned broadly, showing studs on his teeth.
‘We’re not gonna rat on anybody’, another boy informed Daysen.
‘Maybe there was a reason she ran away?’ one of the girls piped up shrilly. ‘Maybe she couldn’t face her asshole dad anymore?’
Daysen rolled his eyes, then breathed. At Hogwarts, he would never have tolerated being spoken to like that. These kids, however, were not under his jurisdiction, they might not even be under ordinary society’s. That again made them worthwhile sources of information. As much as he resented it, he had to keep his cool with these brats for a little while longer. ‘I’m not looking for a girl’, he snarled, ‘but a man. An old man, in fact, his name is Abelard Ainsworth. I was told that this is the place where he’s currently living.’
‘All kinds of bums come here’, the tall boy said, ‘you should come back at night.’
Daysen twitched. ‘Do you know the guys who usually frequent this place? The bums, as you say.’
‘Some’, the boy replied with a shrug. ‘How does your guy look like?’
It was hard to describe a man who hadn’t been seen for years, and even harder to describe someone who’d had the Azkaban experience in the meantime. Jack did as best he could. However, all he got were blank stares. He had to try harder. ‘I can’t really say how he looks these days. But if you have met him, I’d say you’d remember. You might remember that this man was ��� peculiar in some way. Behaving strangely, maybe ���’
‘All the bums behave like that ‘cause they’re off their rocker!’
‘��� or in some other way ��� special.’ This last word Jack growled because he found that his own words sounded clumsy and ridiculous.
‘In’t we all special?’ the Mohawk boy chuckled.
They all grinned at Daysen. Only one of the girls appeared to be thinking. ‘Now wait a minute’, she said suddenly, ‘I think he means Old Abe.’
The others raised their brows at her, then sniggered. It seemed to be some private joke.
‘Yeah? You’re looking for Old Abe?’ the Mohawk boy asked.
‘Sounds right’, Daysen murmured.
‘What d’ya want with him?’
‘Find him. Talk to him. I’ve known him for years.’
The boy scrutinized Daysen with narrowed eyes, he didn’t appear to quite believe him. ‘Talk to him. That all?’
‘Yes.’
The Mohawk boy hesitated and Daysen sensed a protective vibe there.
‘Well’, said the boy, ‘you’re out of luck. He’s gone.’
‘Gone where?’
A shrug. ‘Dunno. One day he was gone. Didn’t even say goodbye. Not that we’re so formal ���’
‘So you knew him well? Saw him often?’
‘Sometimes. ��� He was a little mad, but funny. And weed made him even funnier.’ The boy smiled amusedly at the memory of a stoned old man.
‘Do you know what he was doing all day?’
‘Nope. Apart from being a bum, that is.’
‘When was the last time you saw him?’
The Mohawk boy turned to his friends for confirmation. ‘Must’ve been about ��� ten days, maybe?’
The others nodded and looked bored.
‘Was there anything he said about his plans? Or anything peculiar, for that matter?’
Unanimous shakes of the head.
Daysen sighed. Narcissa’s tip appeared to be valid, however, he’d acted upon it too late. Now Ainsworth was gone. Had he been warned? If so, by whom? Anyway, there was nothing to be done for Jack anymore. ‘Never mind’, he growled, turned and walked away without another word. What a bloody waste of time!
‘Oi! Wait a minute!’
He stopped. The Mohawk boy came running after him, in his wake followed the girl who’d first mentioned ‘Old Abe’. Daysen observed curiously as they exchanged meaningful looks. ‘What is it?’
‘Is he in any trouble?’ the girl asked and she seemed adamant.
‘Not that I know of’, Daysen lied. ‘Why?’
‘Tracy here was kind of in love with him’, fibbed the boy and received a fierce nudge in the side in return. ‘Nah, it’s just ��� he was nice, Old Abe. In his way. A little crazy, as I said. But we all liked him. He used to call us ��� what was it, Trace? ��� Muggles? Don’t know what he meant by that, it was just one of his words.’
‘He could do tricks’, the girl supplied, ‘like, magical ones. I asked him how he did it, but he wouldn’t tell.’
‘Magicians never give away their tricks’, the boy argued reasonably while Daysen bit the inside of his lower lip. It never got old, Muggles stumbling over magic and being completely clueless about it.
‘Is this going anywhere?’ he asked, looking back and forth between Mohawk and Tracy.
‘Old Abe left behind his stash’, the boy explained, ‘we thought you might be interested?’
The corners of Jack’ mouth twitched. ‘I am’, he admitted, carefully inclining his head.
The boy grinned, then gestured for Daysen to follow him. Hand in hand with the girl called Tracy, he led the way out of the large room, down the metal staircase,
then through a flight of halls and down to the cellar where a strong stink of sweat and urine assaulted Jack’ nose. His two young guides, however, didn’t even flinch; they were used to the place. And they obviously knew it well since they took the turns without hesitation until they arrived at a lockable partition the door of which, however, was open a gap. Mohawk boy tugged at the door and gestured for Daysen to step into the small spaced enclosed by rough wooden beams. Jack did so, but not without giving the two teenagers a suspicious look and secretly checking for his wand. He found the eagerness with which they’d offered help unusual, to say the least; it wasn’t the way Muggles usually behaved towards him and he wondered why those two were different.
When Jack brushed past the boy into the compartment, he saw that the latter eyeing him up and down. ‘Cool garb, by the way’, the boy said, ‘where d’you shop?’
At first, Jack suspected ridicule. It hardly ever happened that anyone complimented him on his clothes, and certainly not Muggles. Then he saw the reluctant respect in Mohawk boy’s eyes and realized that he had managed to stumble over the only kind of Muggle who would not be put off by his sinister attire. In fact, it suddenly became very clear to him that the reason why they had taken him here and appeared to trust him was that, like them, he was dressed in unrelieved black. It appeared to signal a kindred spirit to them and once more Daysen found that he had to keep himself from grinning at the irony of it. ‘Secret’, he murmured instead and turned to take in the contents of the cellar compartment.
Thankfully, the smell wasn’t any worse in the cramped space. There were crates piled up on one another, and in a corner a blanket and a greasy pillow were spread out on the floor, both looking crumpled and used. There was a folded-up sleeping bag, as well, and by instinct Jack lifted and shook it. A plastic bag fell out and thudded onto the floor.
Jack looked up at the teenagers who stood by the door and watched him curiously. There was a glimmer in both their eyes and suddenly Daysen knew what it was. They sensed something about him; it was probably unconscious, they might not realize that they were held spellbound by the air of magic that surrounded him as much as it had ‘Old Abe’ Ainsworth.
He picked up the plastic bag and unpacked it, only to find several smaller packages containing herbs, and Daysen recognized them as common potions ingredients. There were also rolls of paper covered in tiny handwriting that was impossible to decipher in the dim cellar light. And a small card, made of reinforced paper with a stylized design on it. Intrigued, Daysen read what was quite obviously a business card.
Biocelos Ltd.
Nicholas Summers, PhD
Junior Scientific Counsellor
Phone: +44 ���
���
Jack turned around to the teenagers who were, however, presently engaged in heavy smooching. They were quite uninhibited about it; there were lusty smacks and visible tongues. A scathing comment was on the tip of Daysen’s, but he thought twice and only discreetly cleared his throat. When he had their grinning attentions, he showed them the card. ‘Any idea who this is?’
Mohawk boy eyed the card, then shook his head disinterestedly; he clearly wanted to get back to kissing. However, the girl gave him another meaningful glance.
‘Don’t you remember the suit that was here?’ she asked.
‘The suit?’ Daysen repeated.
‘Guy in a suit’, Mohawk boy explained, ‘business type. Trace’s right, he came here a few times to visit Abe. That was quite a while ago, though. We reckoned he was some family member who kept tabs on him ���’
But Tracy interrupted fiercely. ‘That’s bullshit, Abe hated the guy!’
Daysen looked her up and down. She was a scrappy little thing with a pronounced pout, rendered more dramatic by the blackish purple colour on her lips, now completely smeared. ‘You appear to have been close to Ainsworth’, he observed, careful not to put any judgment into his words.
‘He talked to me’, the girl admitted with her ‘What’s it to you’ shrug.
‘Did he tell you what that man wanted of him?’
But either she didn’t know or didn’t want to tell. ‘I only know that he bothered Abe, that a couple of suit guys were constantly on his back. I don’t know for what, though; I asked him, but he wouldn’t say, except for that he had once been a ‘very significant man’. He was probably bullshitting me; and I guess he probably owed them money or some shit like that. I mean, when the suits turn up, it’s mostly about money, isn’t it?’
However, Daysen doubted that. Fascinated, he stared at the business card. He had an idea and put it into his pocket. There was yet another item left in the plastic bag. It was heavier than the others and rolled up in a piece of tattered cloth. Daysen took the bundle and unwrapped it carefully. Out came what looked like an ordinary ballpoint pen, of the kind a Muggle might use. However, it was not this ��� Ainsworth possessing a pen when he would most certainly use quills for writing ��� that immediately jolted Jack into apprehension; what put him on edge was realizing immediately that the ballpoint was dead, no more than a piece of pointed metal. This wasn’t a pen; it was an item made to look like one. He sensed danger and was careful not to touch the pen with bare fingers, keeping the cloth around it. Then he noticed the inscription on the side of the pen: Biocelos Ltd. ��� Manufacturing Excellence. He stared at it with a frown on his face before he showed the slogan to the teenagers. ‘Does this mean anything to you?’
They stared at the words for a while. ‘Pharmaceutical company’, Mohawk boy snarled, ‘those are the worst.’
‘You heard of them?’
‘No, not of this one. But it’s obvious from the name what they do. ��� Believe me, man, you want nothing to do with pharma guys. What these people do ��� it’s black magic.’
Again, Daysen had to bite down on a smirk and made to carefully pocket the pen.
‘Wait a minute’, Tracy piped up, and her voice sounded shrill, ‘why are you taking all of Abe’s stuff with you?’
‘I’d say he doesn’t need it anymore’, Daysen said smoothly.
‘But what if he comes back?’
‘I don’t think this will happen.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘As I’ve told you, I know the man.’
‘Yeah, but anyone can say that!’ To Daysen’s surprise, the girl called Tracy stepped up and blocked his way. ‘I want you to give back Abe’s stuff!’ she demanded bolshily. ‘We didn’t show you all this so that you can just help yourself and take what you like!’
‘Why did you show me, then?’ Jack asked sarcastically.
Her eyes flickered and she glanced over her shoulder at Mohawk boy. It was then that Daysen realized that they had, of course, hoped for money in exchange for showing him Ainsworth’s stuff. But even if he’d had Muggle money on himself, he wouldn’t have parted with it for them. Although he wasn’t too optimistic, he gave reasonable argument a try.
‘Here eat this you will help,’ Holly gave him the last chocolate frog, Hermione gave her over the vacation. ‘You are worth ten of him, Neville,’ she slapped him on the back, ‘face it I hit both of you and Malfoy’s the only one with a flinch,’ she smiled,
‘Thanks, Holly,’ Neville sighed, ‘I am going to bed, Do you want the card I heard you collect them?’ he offered, Holly took the card, as she glanced at the familiar face of Sally. The first one she had gotten, she mused the man seemed very sad, she mused she should get him a pair warm of socks.
Holly took on the led up to the next game with little issue, Snape himself was always around a corner and Ron and Hermione was still convinced he was up to something. Holly held firm but inwardly she was worried about the man something was up about his behavior since the attempt on her life. When she finally stepped forward both of them seemed convinced that it was the last time they would see her.
The captains shook hands as she focused on ending the game, professor or otherwise she didn’t want to risk it she didn’t eve
n glance at the opposition the ball went off and Holly still had her sights she rocketed after it, as soon as she heard the whistle blown, as Snape started in on George but her eyes were on the prize game on and and and snatch game over five minutes in Holly mused that it kinda sucked the game was over so soon, considering the stands higher up. The concern was swept away as wood lost his mind the pair of human beaters mocked but were just as happy they were now leader of house points and a sizable lead for the Quidditch cup.
She set her gear aside she considered losing the next game so she wouldn’t have to walk back to put her gear away. Ready to head back to the castle she paused as the familiar strides gave Professor Snape away as he headed into the forbidden forest.
Her mind went back to Hermione as her friend’s suspicions bleed into Holly’s thoughts she grabbed her broom and pulled out her cloak draped over she moved purposely to the woods.
She spotted two teachers, ‘I don’t know, why you wanted to meet out here Severus,’ Quirrel stammered.
‘Oh I think you know, students aren’t supposed to know about the philosopher’s stone after all.’
Holly leaned in on the birch tree to get a better look. But Quirrell was difficult to hear in class let alone with all the foliage.
‘Have you found a way past Hector’s beast yet?’
‘But Severus,’ Quirrel whimpered
‘You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrel,’ he stepped forward,
‘I don’t know what you-,’ Quirrell tried to defend himself.
‘You know know perfectly well what I mean,’ Snape interrupted. But an owl hoot preventing her from hearing all of the conversation. ‘Your little bit of hocus pocus. I am waiting,’ he insisted pressuring the man.
‘But I don’t-,’ Quirrell tried
‘Very well. We’ll have another little chat soon when you’ve had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie,’ with that Snape threw up his hood and headed back to the castle.
Holly frowned as she lingered in the air the conversation was confusion incarcerate at some parts sounded like Snape was the seemed like Snape was convincedQuirrelll was a thief playing innocent.
She whispered Page 76