[What Lies Behind Iron Gates]

[grandpalovegood]

Impressions

The room is dark and the air is stale. Not a person in sight. He sits at a table in the corner, tipping up the last of the contents of his drink.

"Barkeep." He holds up his glass. "Another."

The man behind the counter grumbles as he snatches up a dirty bottle from below the counter, then proceeds to do as the man wishes.

Being left alone once again holding his drink, the man turns his gaze towards the dingy windows. Window so thick with dirt it was hard to see that there was a beautiful, sunny, spring day outside.

The bell tinkles and the sounds of students could be heard faintly in the distance. Rodolphus did not turn his attentions to the person who walked in, instead his thoughts were a million miles away.

"I received your message," He spoke in barely more than a whisper. "What is is that you want?"

He gestured for the young man to sit. He did with hesitation.
Rodolphus dropped a rolled up copy of the Daily Prophet upon the table. It had been folded so the last page could be read easily.

"Have you seen this?" asked Rodolphus.

The young man looked down his hooked nose at the article, than began to sneer.

"So," He responded with little interest. "What has this to do with me?"

Rodolphus leans in closer and looks Severus directly in the eye.
You better take another look at the article. This time he takes his wand and points to the smaller one that has no illustrations by it. The words begin to grow bolder in print.

Snape leans forward, retrieving the newspaper. Through curtains of black greasy hair, he reads. This time his eyes widen with understanding that was not there before.

Rodolphus leans back with a satisfying look upon his face... a slight grin.

"If I recall things correctly, you were rather good at those spells even for a first year."

Snape dropped the paper back upon the table. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"So?" He replied once again as he leaned back into his chair.

"I'll bet you could do better than this," he gestured toward the paper.

"I'll bet you could do more for the cause once you have finished with Hogwarts." He smiled at Severus with a devious look upon his face.

"Just imagine some of the spells you could create to add to the Dark Lord's arsenal?" He pauses for a moment to attempt to read Severus' face.

"You could go far... and I can help get you there. Put in a good word, so to speak." He quickly juts his chin upward.

The two young men sit there in silence... thinking...

"Your enemies will never again dream of crossing you if you take me up on my offer."

Snape stood up suddenly, scraping the wooden chair loudly across the dirty floor. He looked down at the man who is again smiling slyly at him. As he began to walk away, he paused looking down out of the corner of his eyes at the man. He spoke not a word but one corner of his mouth barely curled upward. With a swish of his cloak, he left the bar.

[Duddahs]

Impressions

The room is dark and the air is stale. Not a person in sight. He sits at a table in the corner, tipping up the last of the contents of his drink.

"Barkeep." He holds up his glass. "Another."

The man behind the counter grumbles as he snatches up a dirty bottle from below the counter, then proceeds to do as the man wishes.

Being left alone once again holding his drink, the man turns his gaze towards the dingy windows. Window so thick with dirt it was hard to see that there was a beautiful, sunny, spring day outside.

The bell tinkles and the sounds of students could be heard faintly in the distance. Rodolphus did not turn his attentions to the person who walked in, instead his thoughts were a million miles away.

"I received your message," He spoke in barely more than a whisper. "What is is that you want?"

He gestured for the young man to sit. He did with hesitation.
Rodolphus dropped a rolled up copy of the Daily Prophet upon the table. It had been folded so the last page could be read easily.

"Have you seen this?" asked Rodolphus.

The young man looked down his hooked nose at the article, than began to sneer.

"So," He responded with little interest. "What has this to do with me?"

Rodolphus leans in closer and looks Severus directly in the eye.
You better take another look at the article. This time he takes his wand and points to the smaller one that has no illustrations by it. The words begin to grow bolder in print.

Snape leans forward, retrieving the newspaper. Through curtains of black greasy hair, he reads. This time his eyes widen with understanding that was not there before.

Rodolphus leans back with a satisfying look upon his face... a slight grin.

"If I recall things correctly, you were rather good at those spells even for a first year."

Snape dropped the paper back upon the table. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

"So?" He replied once again as he leaned back into his chair.

"I'll bet you could do better than this," he gestured toward the paper.

"I'll bet you could do more for the cause once you have finished with Hogwarts." He smiled at Severus with a devious look upon his face.

"Just imagine some of the spells you could create to add to the Dark Lord's arsenal?" He pauses for a moment to attempt to read Severus' face.

"You could go far... and I can help get you there. Put in a good word, so to speak." He quickly juts his chin upward.

The two young men sit there in silence... thinking...

"Your enemies will never again dream of crossing you if you take me up on my offer."

Snape stood up suddenly, scraping the wooden chair loudly across the dirty floor. He looked down at the man who is again smiling slyly at him. As he began to walk away, he paused looking down out of the corner of his eyes at the man. He spoke not a word but one corner of his mouth barely curled upward. With a swish of his cloak, he left the bar.

Behind the bar the keep wiped out a dirty looking mug with what appeared to be an equally dirty looking rag. For but the briefest of moments a sparkle shown from the corner of his eye.. A momentary flash of blue but not a word, not a single sound."Dingle, dingle, dingle..."

Into the bar room walked a ragged looking goat.. A large copper bell hung loosely round its neck.

The goat was oblivious to any of the patrons who all seemed to turn briefly at the sound of its bell. Then all of the bent forward figures went back to their own business.

A small group of very short figures with excessively long fingers all of which were adorned with very sharp, knife like fingernails sat at a small booth on the opposite side of the room from where Rodolphus sat.

A sudden "POP" and a black cloaked form apparated right next to Rodolphus.

He momentarily jumped to his feet, sending his wooden chair skidding backward into the mantle of the hearth and overturning with a loud clatter.

Once again the bent forward heads all turned to the direction of the noise.

A loud HISS came back in their directions. A very threatening HISSING sound. As if to say that if you dare to continue to stare your time with your neck and your head are limited.

The heads all turned back to mind their P's and Q's. The Barkeep went back to wiping down the counter and grabbing an almost empty bowl of pretzels. He reached into an open bag that sat on the floor which now had the head of the belled goat forced into the sack eating its fill and on a mighty challenge to get to the bottom of the bag before the hand could force it out of the burlap sack.

"Get OUT you dozy fiend" came the croaking voice of the barkeep.

With a shooing sound and a swing of his foot in the direction of the rear of the now retreating goat was all it took for the attention of the keep to become less interested in the new patron but to try and keep his own hard earned stock from disappearing into the belly of this flea ridden creature.

With a rattling of the goat bell, the yells of the barkeep and the sudden laughter of the new patron, the bar seemed to become a veritable box of unwanted noises.

The figure turned to Rodolphus and put it's hands upon it's hips.

"I trust you have secured the allegiance of the young Snape child." came the bitter tone of the voice of Bellatrix Black.

"I believe that we are more than on the path to securing his trust and support." Rodolphus responded.

"What? You believe? You must KNOW. KNOW for SURE!" spat out Bellatrix.

[grandpalovegood]

With a flash of red

Looking out from a high turret window, the man stands there frozen. The view was spectacular, yet he wears a gaze that sees not a thing in front of him. The setting of the sun is so brilliant, it casts a reflection within his blue sparkling eyes. Deep in thought, holding his hands behind his back, he paces the floor in a circle. Once again he pauses, facing the window.

A brief flash of red appears suddenly. A waft of warm wind follows with the soft flutter of wings. With all of the grace and elegance, the bird lands ever so gently upon his perch. He takes one look around and spots his long time companion standing with his back toward him. All appears to be normal, so he begins to settle in and preen his feathers.

The man looks down at his feet, still lost within his thoughts, then pushes the half moon spectacles back up upon his nose. Slowly he turns and faces his office, peering down from the balcony. An ever so slight sound of a pop, had caught his attention. There below, standing near the front of his desk he spots it's source.

With the flap of her long pointed ears, the small elderly creature looks around thinking the office is empty. She reaches up and places a rolled up piece of parchment, from her mistress, upon the desk. Albus raises a single eyebrow as he watches the elf twist a corner of her pillowcase outfit. The elf appears to be worried about something....

[Duddahs]

With a flash of red

Looking out from a high turret window, the man stands there frozen. The view was spectacular, yet he wears a gaze that sees not a thing in front of him. The setting of the sun is so brilliant, it casts a reflection within his blue sparkling eyes. Deep in thought, holding his hands behind his back, he paces the floor in a circle. Once again he pauses, facing the window.

A brief flash of red appears suddenly. A waft of warm wind follows with the soft flutter of wings. With all of the grace and elegance, the bird lands ever so gently upon his perch. He takes one look around and spots his long time companion standing with his back toward him. All appears to be normal, so he begins to settle in and preen his feathers.

The man looks down at his feet, still lost within his thoughts, then pushes the half moon spectacles back up upon his nose. Slowly he turns and faces his office, peering down from the balcony. An ever so slight sound of a pop, had caught his attention. There below, standing near the front of his desk he spots it's source.

With the flap of her long pointed ears, the small elderly creature looks around thinking the office is empty. She reaches up and places a rolled up piece of parchment, from her mistress, upon the desk. Albus raises a single eyebrow as he watches the elf twist a corner of her pillowcase outfit. The elf appears to be worried about something....

"Ah yes, Miss Biddy, what may I do for you today?" Dumbledore inquired.

Not a peep escaped the quivering lips of the house elf. She continued to stare at her over-sized feet. Her long pointed ears drooping over her eyes creating a shade for the inquisitorial glance of the Headmaster.

"Oh now, now, it can not be that bad. You are amongst friends here. No one will harm you dear. You are free to speak your mind." Dumbledore reassured the house elf.

"Cough, cough, ahem." broke the near silence of the headmasters office.

"That will be enough Phineous, If you can not keep a civil cough in your throat then please be my guest and take a visit to Grimmauld Place." the headmaster spat over his corner to a dark figure in an ancient gold frame hanging upon the wall.

Biddy raised her head just a bit. Still wringing her fabric covering as if it were very wet indeed and in dire need of water removal.

"S-S-S-S-rrrrrrrrrrr, I-I-I-I-I, ams so sorry to come and bother your eminence at his place of work..." stuttered the little old House Elf.

"Balderdash, you are of no worry nor bother. As a matter of fact, I am glad that you came when you did as I was just about to eat yet another one of these delicious chocolates that were so kindly sent to me from Hogsmeade. May I offer you one?" as the headmaster passed the silver dish with several chocolates that looked as though they were encrusted with real precious jewels.

"N-N-n-n-n, thank you sire. I am but here for a moment and my time is waisitng away with my stuttering fears."

"Go on then my dear." Dumbledore said with a slight nod of his head as he calmly placed a gentle hand upon the shoulder of the house elf and led her to a large leather chair in front of his oak desk.

"It is my Mistress, Miss Celeste.. She is in grave danger I do believe.. Danger that Miss Celeste does not nor can believe comes from within her own home." stated the shaking little elf.

"Knock, knock, knock."

"Yes?" came the Headmasters now firm voice. Obviously a bit miffed by the interruption.

"The large door opened into the headmasters office and in walked a snarling Argus Filch.. In his right hand he held Master James Potter by the scruff of his necktie and in his left hand he held the very disheveled and somewhat ruffled looking form of Master Severus Snape..

Small pieces of branch and leaves were sticking to Snapes hair and his face had a very dirty patch on one side.

On the other hand, James Potter was absolutely clean and properly dressed. His face was a bit flushed and his eyes darted from right to left in the anticipation that someone might be there to turn his interest toward, that is other than Filch, Snape and the Headmaster.

[grandpalovegood]

With a flash of red

Looking out from a high turret window, the man stands there frozen. The view was spectacular, yet he wears a gaze that sees not a thing in front of him. The setting of the sun is so brilliant, it casts a reflection within his blue sparkling eyes. Deep in thought, holding his hands behind his back, he paces the floor in a circle. Once again he pauses, facing the window.

A brief flash of red appears suddenly. A waft of warm wind follows with the soft flutter of wings. With all of the grace and elegance, the bird lands ever so gently upon his perch. He takes one look around and spots his long time companion standing with his back toward him. All appears to be normal, so he begins to settle in and preen his feathers.

The man looks down at his feet, still lost within his thoughts, then pushes the half moon spectacles back up upon his nose. Slowly he turns and faces his office, peering down from the balcony. An ever so slight sound of a pop, had caught his attention. There below, standing near the front of his desk he spots it's source.

With the flap of her long pointed ears, the small elderly creature looks around thinking the office is empty. She reaches up and places a rolled up piece of parchment, from her mistress, upon the desk. Albus raises a single eyebrow as he watches the elf twist a corner of her pillowcase outfit. The elf appears to be worried about something....

"Ah yes, Miss Biddy, what may I do for you today?" Dumbledore inquired.

Not a peep escaped the quivering lips of the house elf. She continued to stare at her over-sized feet. Her long pointed ears drooping over her eyes creating a shade for the inquisitorial glance of the Headmaster.

"Oh now, now, it can not be that bad. You are amongst friends here. No one will harm you dear. You are free to speak your mind." Dumbledore reassured the house elf.

"Cough, cough, ahem." broke the near silence of the headmasters office.

"That will be enough Phineas, If you can not keep a civil cough in your throat then please be my guest and take a visit to Grimmauld Place." the headmaster spat over his corner to a dark figure in an ancient gold frame hanging upon the wall.

Biddy raised her head just a bit. Still wringing her fabric covering as if it were very wet indeed and in dire need of water removal.

"S-S-S-S-rrrrrrrrrrr, I-I-I-I-I, ams so sorry to come and bother your eminence at his place of work..." stuttered the little old House Elf.

"Balderdash, you are of no worry nor bother. As a matter of fact, I am glad that you came when you did as I was just about to eat yet another one of these delicious chocolates that were so kindly sent to me from Hogsmeade. May I offer you one?" as the headmaster passed the silver dish with several chocolates that looked as though they were encrusted with real precious jewels.

"N-N-n-n-n, thank you sire. I am but here for a moment and my time is waisting away with my stuttering fears."

"Go on then my dear." Dumbledore said with a slight nod of his head as he calmly placed a gentle hand upon the shoulder of the house elf and led her to a large leather chair in front of his oak desk.

"It is my Mistress, Miss Celeste.. She is in grave danger I do believe.. Danger that Miss Celeste does not nor can believe comes from within her own home." stated the shaking little elf.

"Knock, knock, knock."

"Yes?" came the Headmasters now firm voice. Obviously a bit miffed by the interruption.

"The large door opened into the headmasters office and in walked a snarling Argus Filch.. In his right hand he held Master James Potter by the scruff of his necktie and in his left hand he held the very disheveled and somewhat ruffled looking form of Master Severus Snape..

Small pieces of branch and leaves were sticking to Snape's hair and his face had a very dirty patch on one side.

On the other hand, James Potter was absolutely clean and properly dressed. His face was a bit flushed and his eyes darted from right to left in the anticipation that someone might be there to turn his interest toward, that is other than Filch, Snape and the Headmaster. So his eyes rested upon the tiny elf sitting upon the large leather chair. His eyes narrowed a bit wondering what she's doing there. He noticed her demeanor.

"Headmaster, I caught these two at it again, doing magic outside of the classroom." Filch shoved the two forward a bit. When he let go of their robes, Snape hit the floor landing upon his hands and knees. His dark greasy hair hung down over his face obscuring the dirty look he shot Filch.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "That will be enough Argus. I will address Mr. Potter and Mr. Snape." He nodded a silent dismissal toward the caretaker. Mr. Filch began to object then thought better of it. Wearing a scowl upon his face he turned and left the office, shutting the door behind him.

"Sir, I can explain...." James began.

"Sir, Mr. Potter is vile!" spat out Snape. "He continues to break the rules of this school. YOUR rules Headmaster." Severus stood up brushing off the dirt from the front of his robes.

"He was spying on us again, Sir. Harassment...." James, once again was interrupted.

"Spying?!" Shouted Snape. Before he had a chance to continue the argument, he notice the Headmaster had held up one finger. He decided to wait.

"Calm down, the both of you. I am certain there is a reasonable explanation for all of this." Dumbledore turned and looked directly at his other guest. He paused as he paced the room once. Looking up at the young boys, he continued.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Snape. You will return to your common rooms. Your heads of house will be informed and will tend to this matter." He paused as he watched the boys both wince. He continues, "I do expect that the both of you will no longer continue this sort of behaviour." He raised his eyebrows asking for the boys to respond.

"Yes Sir." they both said in unison.

"You are now dismissed." With a nod of his, he closed his eyes closing the matter.

As the boys leave they scowl at each other loathingly as is their usual, yet they do so quietly. A soft click of the door is heard.

Albus stands there in silence, looking downward. Noticing a twig on the floor that must have fallen off one of the boys, he waved his hand and it disappears. He quickly turns to face the elf, who is still sitting quietly, nervously in the chair.

"How may I help my friend Madam Celeste?" he stated with a furrowed brow. "What sort of danger is she in?"

...

Meanwhile, in a place far away, a velvet black background framed in gold once again has an occupant. He clears his throat as he stands there peering into the room of a most ancient house.

"Ah... There you are." spoke Phineas with a nasally sounding voice.

Bellatrix turned her head to address the portrait.

"What do you want?" she shot at him.

"Oh nothing." He said trying to supress a smirk.

[Duddahs]

With a flash of red

Looking out from a high turret window, the man stands there frozen. The view was spectacular, yet he wears a gaze that sees not a thing in front of him. The setting of the sun is so brilliant, it casts a reflection within his blue sparkling eyes. Deep in thought, holding his hands behind his back, he paces the floor in a circle. Once again he pauses, facing the window.

A brief flash of red appears suddenly. A waft of warm wind follows with the soft flutter of wings. With all of the grace and elegance, the bird lands ever so gently upon his perch. He takes one look around and spots his long time companion standing with his back toward him. All appears to be normal, so he begins to settle in and preen his feathers.

The man looks down at his feet, still lost within his thoughts, then pushes the half moon spectacles back up upon his nose. Slowly he turns and faces his office, peering down from the balcony. An ever so slight sound of a pop, had caught his attention. There below, standing near the front of his desk he spots it's source.

With the flap of her long pointed ears, the small elderly creature looks around thinking the office is empty. She reaches up and places a rolled up piece of parchment, from her mistress, upon the desk. Albus raises a single eyebrow as he watches the elf twist a corner of her pillowcase outfit. The elf appears to be worried about something....

"Ah yes, Miss Biddy, what may I do for you today?" Dumbledore inquired.

Not a peep escaped the quivering lips of the house elf. She continued to stare at her over-sized feet. Her long pointed ears drooping over her eyes creating a shade for the inquisitorial glance of the Headmaster.

"Oh now, now, it can not be that bad. You are amongst friends here. No one will harm you dear. You are free to speak your mind." Dumbledore reassured the house elf.

"Cough, cough, ahem." broke the near silence of the headmasters office.

"That will be enough Phineas, If you can not keep a civil cough in your throat then please be my guest and take a visit to Grimmauld Place." the headmaster spat over his corner to a dark figure in an ancient gold frame hanging upon the wall.

Biddy raised her head just a bit. Still wringing her fabric covering as if it were very wet indeed and in dire need of water removal.

"S-S-S-S-rrrrrrrrrrr, I-I-I-I-I, ams so sorry to come and bother your eminence at his place of work..." stuttered the little old House Elf.

"Balderdash, you are of no worry nor bother. As a matter of fact, I am glad that you came when you did as I was just about to eat yet another one of these delicious chocolates that were so kindly sent to me from Hogsmeade. May I offer you one?" as the headmaster passed the silver dish with several chocolates that looked as though they were encrusted with real precious jewels.

"N-N-n-n-n, thank you sire. I am but here for a moment and my time is waisting away with my stuttering fears."

"Go on then my dear." Dumbledore said with a slight nod of his head as he calmly placed a gentle hand upon the shoulder of the house elf and led her to a large leather chair in front of his oak desk.

"It is my Mistress, Miss Celeste.. She is in grave danger I do believe.. Danger that Miss Celeste does not nor can believe comes from within her own home." stated the shaking little elf.

"Knock, knock, knock."

"Yes?" came the Headmasters now firm voice. Obviously a bit miffed by the interruption.

"The large door opened into the headmasters office and in walked a snarling Argus Filch.. In his right hand he held Master James Potter by the scruff of his necktie and in his left hand he held the very disheveled and somewhat ruffled looking form of Master Severus Snape..

Small pieces of branch and leaves were sticking to Snape's hair and his face had a very dirty patch on one side.

On the other hand, James Potter was absolutely clean and properly dressed. His face was a bit flushed and his eyes darted from right to left in the anticipation that someone might be there to turn his interest toward, that is other than Filch, Snape and the Headmaster. So his eyes rested upon the tiny elf sitting upon the large leather chair. His eyes narrowed a bit wondering what she's doing there. He noticed her demeanor.

"Headmaster, I caught these two at it again, doing magic outside of the classroom." Filch shoved the two forward a bit. When he let go of their robes, Snape hit the floor landing upon his hands and knees. His dark greasy hair hung down over his face obscuring the dirty look he shot Filch.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "That will be enough Argus. I will address Mr. Potter and Mr. Snape." He nodded a silent dismissal toward the caretaker. Mr. Filch began to object then thought better of it. Wearing a scowl upon his face he turned and left the office, shutting the door behind him.

"Sir, I can explain...." James began.

"Sir, Mr. Potter is vile!" spat out Snape. "He continues to break the rules of this school. YOUR rules Headmaster." Severus stood up brushing off the dirt from the front of his robes.

"He was spying on us again, Sir. Harassment...." James, once again was interrupted.

"Spying?!" Shouted Snape. Before he had a chance to continue the argument, he notice the Headmaster had held up one finger. He decided to wait.

"Calm down, the both of you. I am certain there is a reasonable explanation for all of this." Dumbledore turned and looked directly at his other guest. He paused as he paced the room once. Looking up at the young boys, he continued.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Snape. You will return to your common rooms. Your heads of house will be informed and will tend to this matter." He paused as he watched the boys both wince. He continues, "I do expect that the both of you will no longer continue this sort of behaviour." He raised his eyebrows asking for the boys to respond.

"Yes Sir." they both said in unison.

"You are now dismissed." With a nod of his, he closed his eyes closing the matter.

As the boys leave they scowl at each other loathingly as is their usual, yet they do so quietly. A soft click of the door is heard.

Albus stands there in silence, looking downward. Noticing a twig on the floor that must have fallen off one of the boys, he waved his hand and it disappears. He quickly turns to face the elf, who is still sitting quietly, nervously in the chair.

"How may I help my friend Madam Celeste?" he stated with a furrowed brow. "What sort of danger is she in?"

...

Meanwhile, in a place far away, a velvet black background framed in gold once again has an occupant. He clears his throat as he stands there peering into the room of a most ancient house.

"Ah... There you are." spoke Phineas with a nasally sounding voice.

Bellatrix turned her head to address the portrait.

"What do you want?" she shot at him.

"Oh nothing." He said trying to suppress a smirk.

"Don't give me that, Oh nothing when I give you a command. Answer my question and be snappy about it. I have my wedding to get on with."

The figure in the painting turns his back upon Bellatrix. Obviously disgusted and insulted by his own decedent.

"Well, if you had been a bit more agreeable, I WOULD have let you know who I saw talking about you to someone!" retorted the gentleman in the Portrait.

"Oh for the love of, get on with it or get out you poorly painted piece of bad artwork! Get on with it, tell me or get out for good!"

The clearing of the portraits occupants throat was unmasked by the harumpffing that he also seem to spit out toward Bellatrix, all at the same time.

"Well, I was just hanging around in the Headmasters Office. I was once a Headmaster of Hogwarts you know," but he was promptly cut off.

"I know, I know, we all know. You were the only true SLYTHERIN HEADMASTER, yada, yada, yada... Only Slytherins could possibly understand the inner workings of Hogwarts, Yada, Yada, Yada.. Oh for the love of Merlin, spit it out old man, I have no more patience for you. If you do not get it out and lay it on the table in the next few seconds, I swear, I am going to light you on fire!"

The face upon the portrait began to turn ashen, it attempted to hide its obvious fear. Clearly he had seen enough of this particular witch to know that she was not someone to be toyed with.

"Well, you see, Celeste Malfoy has this house elf," he went on.

"I know, we all know, her name is Biddy, the filthy creature. She should have her head cut off and hung upon the wall just for being so ugly she should"

The portrait interrupted, "Yes Biddy. Well, this Biddy, thing, what ever came to Hogwarts with a tale longer than that of a Hippogriff. Seems that it is warning Albus Dumbledore and Armondo Dippet that Dark Magic is being introduced into Malfoy Mansion by a stranger.

Bellatrix, finally gave the portrait her full attention. She twirled her long dark hair on the end of one finger. Making ringlets that dropped loosely as she went on to another patch of hair.

"As I was saying, this Biddy is telling of great tales against Master Lucius Malfoy and how this stranger has all the intentions of splitting Mother from Son in order to corrupt Daughter in Law against her Mother in Law in order to force a split between Son and Mother that would be impossible to reverse. To rip the very souls of the young Malfoys and their offspring to become followers of his Dark Magic dealings."

A small smile began to creep over Bellatrix face.. It was not a warm kind of smile. No, not even close. In fact it was down right scary.

[grandpalovegood]

To My Betrothed

A small smile began to creep over Bellatrix's face.. It was not a warm kind of smile. No, not even close. In fact it was down right scary.

Just then came a tap at the window. Suddenly, the hinges came unclasped causing a wind to burst into the room as they flew open. Bellatrix quickly crosses the room to shut them once again. A chilled rain, strange for this time of year, splattered across her face. A flash of lightning lights up the dark skies outside.

"Damn owl!" she shouts at the bird now sitting on the foot board of her bed. The large, dark brown owl, shutters causing her to become more wet from the rain it endured along it's journey.

"UH! Get out of my house you ruddy bird!" She screams with a temper heightening at every passing moment. She pauses as she noticed the letter attached to the owls foot. Wiping the water from her face, she retrieves the letter quickly with her dry hand. Turning it over to investigate the letter further, she bites a single long, highly polished red nail. Spotting wax seal, she realizes just who this is from. Making herself comfortable, she slumps into a nearby chair, throwing her leg over the side. Fanning herself with the letter she wears a grin on her face.

The owl takes flight once again, causing the windows to reopen as it exits. She takes out her wand then flicks it in the direction slamming the windows shut just shy of shattering them.

"Finally some peace and quiet around here," she said with a sneer.

Returning her attention to the letter she hastily opens it up, throwing the envelope to the floor. She knows the writing well. Another grin crosses her face. She does not move, but chooses to fan herself with it. Suddenly she realizes she is still being watched.

"Get out! You have said your peace now leave!" she orders the portrait to vacate itself.

Phineas sneers as he holds up his chin.

"I know better places to be anyway. Obviously, YOU....." His words were interrupted when she redirects her wand aiming a shot just offset to the left of his golden frame.

"Well! Humph!" The next thing you see is the empty velvet background after he exits from sight.

She remains sitting in her chair a few minutes longer, fanning herself as she takes time to ponder. Her thoughts lead her to change expressions, mostly smiling a devious smile the whole while. Finally, she stands up, walking over to the fireplace all lit with warm flames, she tosses the letter in. Quickly, reaching up, grabbing a handful of powder from a small pot, sitting upon the mantle, she steps within the flames. Tossing the powder down violently this causes it into the flame to grow and turn a bright shade of green. A sly smile crosses her face as she disappears off away from Grimmuald Place.

[Duddahs]

A Calm before the Storm
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The shop owners that lined the main streets and even those who were had their establishments in Hogsmeade were busily readying their shops, Inns, Restaurants, Bistro's and even the Book store and Candy Shop, the Joke Shop, each one was abuzz with activity.

Madame Rosemerta was seen running from the Three Broomsticks down to the strangely cleaned up Hogs Head Inn. A very long list of parchment was gripped in her tight hand as she banged upon the entrance door but no one answered.

You see, Aberforth was upstairs cleaning, actually CLEANING the 6 small rooms and changing the linens with all new ones that were provided to him by the Black Family.

There upon each and every pillow case was the Black Family Crest emblazoned on the 1000 count Egyptian Cotton and embroidered in the finest of Silk from the Orient.

It was clear to each of the proprietors of Hogsmeade that this was going to be a event unlike any that had been seen in a millennium.

Madam Puddifoot had the Windows of her ever so gently Tea House opened up and the scent of fresh pine washed mountain air filled the premises replacing the stuffy perfumed air that seemed to almost permeate every nook and cranny of the place.

Honeydukes shop had filled its display windows with all sorts and manners of finery for gift giving. Fizzing Whizzbees were replaced by Platters of the finest Goblin made Silver. Cups and Saucers of every imaginable delicate decoration were stacked upon themselves creating a Pyramid of Fine Bone China.

Walking by Zonko's Joke Shop one could see that the displays of exploding toys was now replaced by Dresses and Tuxedo's in almost every color of the Rainbow.

Small birds continuously ran lace back and forth on the dresses making them more lovely than the next.

Thousands of small Silk Worms were seen in the background working furiously to produce the finest silk for Ascots, sashes and handkerchiefs. Nothing too small or too large was out of order in the shops at this time. No place was unwashed and no House Elf was left to sit and rest for more than a brief moment before their master was screaming their name in a panic.

[grandpalovegood]

A Grand Adventure?

Sitting there in an empty room, she throws her leg over the side of the maroon colored leather chair. A look of boredom crosses her face. A sigh escapes her lips. The only other sounds that could be heard are the winds howling behind the glass windowpanes. Occasionally a tree branch taps upon it as though asking to come in. She rolls her eyes for the last time, then throws her head backward.

There he stands in the quiet, leaning against the doorway entrance to his sitting room, watching her all this while. She sees him upside down.

"Wherever have you been?" she spat out quickly. "You know I don't like being kept waiting!"

A half grin and a humored twinkle of his eye went unnoticed by her. He tips up the glass he was holding only to swallow the last of the red liquid within. A silent moment once again takes over. He watches as she swings her high heeled boot. He watches her intently, all the while wondering what life will be like with this raw, untamed woman before him. A hardy belly laugh escapes him.

She turns herself around to face him, squinting her eyes, wondering what is wrong this this oaf. He ignores the expression of bewilderment she gives him. Finally, he walks over to her and places the empty glass upon the marble table beside her chair. He holds out both of his hands face down to her. She looks at him skeptically.

"What are you up to Rodolphus?" she asks without compliance. He has to literally reach down to take her hands. Hands that are small, soft and as white as a dove. He pulls her to a stand. He stoops and places a quick kiss upon the point of her nose.

"You are hopeless, you know that?" she says to him quietly.

"Hopeless? Hopeless?!" he repeats louder. He pulls her to him as he wraps his arms around her middle.

"All this time we have known that you and I would be wed, All of this time since we were promised to each other from infancy by our parents, have you ever thought of another?" He looks enquiringly into her eyes.

She looks at him incredibly. After a slight pause, she throws her head back and lets out a long, loud cackle that echoes throughout the room. Finally, when she stops to catch her breath does he slightly loosen his grip upon her.

"You think this is funny, do you?" he too sees humor only to grin and shake his head.

"The plans are in action. Hogsmeade is being prepared as we speak."

"Ah good." He looks over her head and gazes out at the storm brewing outside. Another flash of light crosses the sky.

"That reminds me...." he pauses to suppress a grin, "Is there nothing missing from this whole thing?" He raises one eyebrow while he waits for her answer.

She thinks for a moment, "No. We have the dress, the flowers. The guests all have replied if they could come. The food and decor are all in order." She pauses to let out a long yawn as she pats her mouth. "Oh the weather for next week will be perfect. What else is there?"

He looked down to the top pocket of his red satin vest. She noticed something was there. Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head.

"What is it?"

"Why not find out?" he said teasing her.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, as she removed a small silver box. She takes a step back from him as she opens the package. Inside laying within a black satin lining sits an ornate white gold band. She takes it out to get a better look at it. Her mouth drops open. For once in her life she is speechless.

The band is shaped like a snake, with two large emeralds for eyes and a large diamond is held in placy by a coiled forked tongue wrapped around it. He reaches up and takes her left hand, sliding the ring over long blood red polished nail and the length of her finger. She wiggles the fingers on that hand, causing the diamond to sparkle within the candle light.

A smile crosses her face as she looks at him out of the corner of her eye. A smile that is not telling all of the thoughts she's decided not to speak aloud. Suddenly a blinding flash of light lights up the room, followed by a loud clap of thunder which sets the mood.

[Duddahs]

A Grand Adventure?
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Bellatrix and Rodolphus arrive in a mighty blaze of Green Flames in the Three Broomsticks.

Hustling and bustling here and there were house elves of all various sizes and shapes.

Flapping ears, and eyes wide as saucers when one very tiny apparently female house elf notices the arrival of the betrothed pair.

Bowing as low as she could, her squeaky voice cracks as she asks what she may do to make their stay at the Three Broomsticks more comfortable.

"Get that floozy bar keep you call Rosemerta here and tell her not to dawdle. I have not time or patience for sloths." spat out Bellatrix.

The house elf is quickly dispatched with a loud pop and another house elf comes to the aid of the couple. A chair in each of his hands and a pile of clean napkins piled high upon his head, teetering so precariously one would think that they were just about to fall to the floor.

"Come my dear, I am sure that the rush of the Floo has caused your lovely demeanor to become just a bit sharpened," as Rodolphus attempts to hide his snide smile and bitter sense of humor.

"Shut it or i will turn you into a toad and feed you to an Owl, and don't you ever doubt for a second that I would do it at the drop of a feather." Bellatrix stated with a wry smile plastered on her lovely face.

"Oh, I would never think so lowly of you my dear. As you, the true daughter of the House of Black, I would never attempt to insinate that you were anything other than perfect." as the young man quickly picks up a large frosty mug of Butterbeer that the new house elf had brought on a tray.

"Here my dear, drink this, it will soothe your nerves and then we can go on with our inspection of the sites. Oh there you, Rosemerta, quicken it up will you? We have been waiting for hours for your arrival and we are very busy and will remember this when it comes time to tally up your fees vs. your performance." Rodolphus stated with an air of idiotic contempt.

"Look, you might be able to scare some of those other shop owners here, there and almost everywhere, but you are not dealing with some tramp off the street corner. I have kicked better than you out of this establishment and I will not hesitate to give you or your guest the tip of my boots if any of you gets too rowdy and makes any kind of mess. This is MY establishment and MY HOME and no one, NOT ANYONE will disrespect me in my house."

Bellatrix hisses into her overflowing butterbeer as it dribbles down her chin and she allows it to spittle on to the table.

Quickly the house elf is there with his unruly pile of napkins and is wiping up the mess. The table once again gleaming with the high shine of a piece of furniture having been well taken care of for many years.

Bah, Bellatrix mumbles into her brew.

"I am not kidding Bellatrix. I have known you since you were a little snot nosed brat and let me tell you, I could outcast you then and I am surely capable of out-casting you now. I did not become the most successful female inn keep of all Wizarding history by allowing those who believe they are above the rules of my house to just run rough shod over me. No siree, you and yours will be polite and leave this establishment no worse for the wear than how you found it. GOT IT?" Rosemerta demanded from the seated witch.

"Get her out of my sight Rodolphus, NOW!" Bella screamed.

With this Rodolphus stood and began to engage Rosemerta in discussion over the arrangements and what had already been completed and when they would ultimately see the finalized product?

"Filthy Witch, thinks she is going to outshine me on MY DAY does she, well she has another thing coming, she does." Bella scolded to no one but to her own utter satisfaction, no retort was to be heard.

A large smile crosses Bellatrix's face and then her broad smile once again as her lace covered hands gripped the large frosty mug of Butterbeer and she lowered her head to the edge instead of bringing it up to her mouth. She looks out from below her dark brow and hair that now fell in ringlets over her forehead.

[grandpalovegood]

A Grand Adventure?

Sitting there in an empty room, she throws her leg over the side of the maroon colored leather chair. A look of boredom crosses her face. A sigh escapes her lips. The only other sounds that could be heard are the winds howling behind the glass windowpanes. Occasionally a tree branch taps upon it as though asking to come in. She rolls her eyes for the last time, then throws her head backward.

There he stands in the quiet, leaning against the doorway entrance to his sitting room, watching her all this while. She sees him upside down.

"Wherever have you been?" she spat out quickly. "You know I don't like being kept waiting!"

A half grin and a humored twinkle of his eye went unnoticed by her. He tips up the glass he was holding only to swallow the last of the red liquid within. A silent moment once again takes over. He watches as she swings her high heeled boot. He watches her intently, all the while wondering what life will be like with this raw, untamed woman before him. A hardy belly laugh escapes him.

She turns herself around to face him, squinting her eyes, wondering what is wrong this this oaf. He ignores the expression of bewilderment she gives him. Finally, he walks over to her and places the empty glass upon the marble table beside her chair. He holds out both of his hands face down to her. She looks at him skeptically.

"What are you up to Rodolphus?" she asks without compliance. He has to literally reach down to take her hands. Hands that are small, soft and as white as a dove. He pulls her to a stand. He stoops and places a quick kiss upon the point of her nose.

"You are hopeless, you know that?" she says to him quietly.

"Hopeless? Hopeless?!" he repeats louder. He pulls her to him as he wraps his arms around her middle.

"All this time we have known that you and I would be wed, All of this time since we were promised to each other from infancy by our parents, have you ever thought of another?" He looks enquiringly into her eyes.

She looks at him incredibly. After a slight pause, she throws her head back and lets out a long, loud cackle that echoes throughout the room. Finally, when she stops to catch her breath does he slightly loosen his grip upon her.

"You think this is funny, do you?" he too sees humor only to grin and shake his head.

"The plans are in action. Hogsmeade is being prepared as we speak."

"Ah good." He looks over her head and gazes out at the storm brewing outside. Another flash of light crosses the sky.

"That reminds me...." he pauses to suppress a grin, "Is there nothing missing from this whole thing?" He raises one eyebrow while he waits for her answer.

She thinks for a moment, "No. We have the dress, the flowers. The guests all have replied if they could come. The food and decor are all in order." She pauses to let out a long yawn as she pats her mouth. "Oh the weather for next week will be perfect. What else is there?"

He looked down to the top pocket of his red satin vest. She noticed something was there. Her eyes narrowed as she tilted her head.

"What is it?"

"Why not find out?" he said teasing her.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, as she removed a small silver box. She takes a step back from him as she opens the package. Inside laying within a black satin lining sits an ornate white gold band. She takes it out to get a better look at it. Her mouth drops open. For once in her life she is speechless.

The band is shaped like a snake, with two large emeralds for eyes and a large diamond is held in placy by a coiled forked tongue wrapped around it. He reaches up and takes her left hand, sliding the ring over long blood red polished nail and the length of her finger. She wiggles the fingers on that hand, causing the diamond to sparkle within the candle light.

A smile crosses her face as she looks at him out of the corner of her eye. A smile that is not telling all of the thoughts she's decided not to speak aloud. Suddenly a blinding flash of light lights up the room, followed by a loud clap of thunder which sets the mood.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus arrive in a mighty blaze of Green Flames in the Three Broomsticks.

Hustling and bustling here and there were house elves of all various sizes and shapes.

Flapping ears, and eyes wide as saucers when one very tiny apparently female house elf notices the arrival of the betrothed pair.

Bowing as low as she could, her squeaky voice cracks as she asks what she may do to make their stay at the Three Broomsticks more comfortable.

"Get that floozy bar keep you call Rosemerta here and tell her not to dawdle. I have not time or patience for sloths." spat out Bellatrix.

The house elf is quickly dispatched with a loud pop and another house elf comes to the aid of the couple. A chair in each of his hands and a pile of clean napkins piled high upon his head, teetering so precariously one would think that they were just about to fall to the floor.

"Come my dear, I am sure that the rush of the Floo has caused your lovely demeanor to become just a bit sharpened," as Rodolphus attempts to hide his snide smile and bitter sense of humor.

"Shut it or i will turn you into a toad and feed you to an Owl, and don't you ever doubt for a second that I would do it at the drop of a feather." Bellatrix stated with a wry smile plastered on her lovely face.

"Oh, I would never think so lowly of you my dear. As you, the true daughter of the House of Black, I would never attempt to insinate that you were anything other than perfect." as the young man quickly picks up a large frosty mug of Butterbeer that the new house elf had brought on a tray.

"Here my dear, drink this, it will soothe your nerves and then we can go on with our inspection of the sites. Oh there you, Rosemerta, quicken it up will you? We have been waiting for hours for your arrival and we are very busy and will remember this when it comes time to tally up your fees vs. your performance." Rodolphus stated with an air of idiotic contempt.

"Look, you might be able to scare some of those other shop owners here, there and almost everywhere, but you are not dealing with some tramp off the street corner. I have kicked better than you out of this establishment and I will not hesitate to give you or your guest the tip of my boots if any of you gets too rowdy and makes any kind of mess. This is MY establishment and MY HOME and no one, NOT ANYONE will disrespect me in my house."

Bellatrix hisses into her overflowing butterbeer as it dribbles down her chin and she allows it to spittle on to the table.

Quickly the house elf is there with his unruly pile of napkins and is wiping up the mess. The table once again gleaming with the high shine of a piece of furniture having been well taken care of for many years.

Bah, Bellatrix mumbles into her brew.

"I am not kidding Bellatrix. I have known you since you were a little snot nosed brat and let me tell you, I could outcast you then and I am surely capable of out-casting you now. I did not become the most successful female inn keep of all Wizarding history by allowing those who believe they are above the rules of my house to just run rough shod over me. No siree, you and yours will be polite and leave this establishment no worse for the wear than how you found it. GOT IT?" Rosemerta demanded from the seated witch.

"Get her out of my sight Rodolphus, NOW!" Bella screamed.

With this Rodolphus stood and began to engage Rosemerta in discussion over the arrangements and what had already been completed and when they would ultimately see the finalized product?

"Filthy Witch, thinks she is going to outshine me on MY DAY does she, well she has another thing coming, she does." Bella scolded to no one but to her own utter satisfaction, no retort was to be heard.

A large smile crosses Bellatrix's face and then her broad smile once again as her lace covered hands gripped the large frosty mug of Butterbeer and she lowered her head to the edge instead of bringing it up to her mouth. She looks out from below her dark brow and hair that now fell in ringlets over her forehead.

She watches silently as the other patrons enters the establishment. A tall man, with a long pointed hood on his long black robe walked right up to the bar and took a seat. She could not make out what he said. Most likely he put in an order for some sort of drink. One of the tenders served him something light brown in color in a tall clear mug. The man drinks it right up and empties it at one go. He laughs loudly as he places the mug down upon the bar top a bit too harshly.

There is a tinkle of the bell. More bar guests had entered the bar. That group all talk loudly of things that she cared not to listen to. Her mind is on this man.

'Who is he?' she thinks to herself. 'I know him from somewhere.' She notices a seat beside him is empty, so she slams down her own mug and wipes the froth away from her upper lip onto her lace sleeve. Suddenly standing up so quickly to the point she nearly knocks over the chair she was sitting in. No one notices a thing.

[Duddahs]

Over at Madam Puddifoot's a gaggle of giggling young witches entered with deafening and mindless chatter.

"Ladies, ladies, welcome to my humble establishment! Please come in and sign in. I assume you are here for the wedding?"

The group of witches stopped babbling for a moment as each turned their heads in the direction of the plump witch dressed in a lovely Salmon colored laced trimmed outfit.

The look of disgust that covered their faces was so staggeringly unexpected to Madam Puddifoot that her usual bright and cheery smile seemed to fade just a bit.

"Who in Merlin's Magic booked us into this, ugh, what would you say, PLACE?"

Another of the young witches piped in quickly, "Oh no you didn't. Nacissa Malfoy, how dare you put us up in this lace covered pile of Dragon Dung? If I wished to stay in Old Lady Heck I would have stayed at home with my Mother. She is bad enough but this place takes the cake."

A bit of laughter broke out amongst the young witches as yet another chirped up, "Yeah, takes the WEDDING Cake... Get it? W E D D I N GGGG Cake?"

"Oh you are so funny Goyle... One would think that you have been hanging out in one of those Muggle Establishments soaking up thier brand of sickness."

The group again broke out into laughing fits as one witch turned a bright shade of red.. Obviously the newly married Elise Goyle was not amused to be the but of the joke.

The tallest and most blond of the witches seemed to be the ring leader of the group. "Oh come on, it is just for a weekend and who cares what this dump looks like. We are here for Bella's special day after-all."

A small brunette witch stood up on her tip toes and with hands on hips address the blonds remarks.

"Absolutely NOT, I do not care what you say, I am not going to have any Old Witch gunk getting into my hair.. I am out of here. You can find me over at the Three Broomsticks, at least I know I will be taken care of in the style that I am accustomed to, there!"

With that the small brunette witch stormed out of the group only to be followed by a hushed whispering and then a mass OOOOOOHHHHSSSS from the other witches.

Madam Puddifoot was still standing politely behind the small desk which had a large open registry book and a long purple feather quill waiting for the guests to sign in.

"She is not going to be getting any room over at the Three Broomsticks" Narcissa spoke up. "The rooms at the Broomstick are reserved for the upper echelon of the Guest list and for those directly related to Bellatrix and Rodolphe. She is going to be in for a rude awakening, that one. She thinks that just because she is Pureblood that she can get what ever she wishes. Well open your eyes little witch, we are all Purebloods here. It is not as if Bella was going to have her wedding tainted by a bunch of Half breeds and Mudbloods."

Narcissa walked over to Madam Puddifoot and introduced herself.

"Oh Madam Malfoy, it is my pleasure to have you and your friends staying here in my humble establishment. I do hope that everything will be to your liking. Oh but did you not say that ALL of the Brides family will be staying at the Three Broomsticks? But it seems that you are reserved to be staying here with your friends." Madam Puddifoot looked very sheepish as she was not sure if there were some sort of rift between the sisters.

"No, please do not worry Puddifoot, I will be staying here in your Lovely Inn as will my sister Andomeda, and our friends." The somewhat haughty attitude of Narcissa Malfoy told Madam Puddifoot to not ask any more questions, just as much as it instructed her fellow witches that it was time to tone it down a bit and sign the register.

As the young witches all gathered around the small sign in desk, the front door of the Inn slammed open, causing the bell above the door to be literally knocked off its hanger.

In stormed a slightly disheveled version of the young brunette witch who had previously stormed out in search of other accommodations.


"Well, would I'll be," the little witch began then cut herself off abruptly. "Yes, well, after further consideration, I have decided to stay here at this (she swallows hard then continues) establishment. What would a weekend with my girls be without my GIRLS, I ask you."

The tall blond witch who fancied herself the Alfa Witch of the lot turned to the small brunette witch, "So, couldn't get a room, huh? Thought not... Now get in line and shut that trap of yours. A few shots of Elf Made Snapps and you will think you are staying in the Taj Mahal."

The giggling all began to drown out everything once more. It was nearly impossible for Madam Puddifoot to keep up with all of the energy that this unruly lot exuded.

"I do hope that our luggage has already been brought to our rooms and everything is set for a small afternoon rest before the evenings pre wedding festivities begin." Narcissa queried.

"Oh dear me yes Madam Malfoy. The house elves have already been instructed to have all of your trunks brought to your rooms, bubble baths laced with Lavender and Mint to be drawn. Aromatic Candles hand dipped in Switzerland by ancient witches have been lit and your bed linens are of the finest Egyptian Cotton, loomed by the descendants of the Pharaohs themselves. No luxury has been spared for our esteemed guests."

Madam Puddifoot placed the quill back into the bottle of ink and gently closed the ledger.

With a "POP" a small group of House Elves in freshly laundered toga's appeared.

Madam Puddifoot instructed each of the houselves to attend to one witch for the duration of their stay.

"You see, it will be your home away from home for the next few days, ladies. If there is anything that you may find yourself in need of, please do not hesitate for a moment to ask for it. We are here to please."

With this the small brunette witch once again chimed in, "Yeah, well you can start by burning down this trap and building a proper Inn in it's place."

The giggles began yet again as poor Madam Puddifoot slightly lowered her head but said nothing.

This way ladies.

[Duddahs]

With all of the "Pop's" of the arriving Witches and Wizards one would have thought that they had found their way into a giant Popcorn machine.

The hustle and bustle of guest of the nuptials between Bellatrix and her husband to be created a great stir and brisk business in the small shops throughout Hogsmeade.

There was not an establishment in the all Wizarding village that had not been buffed and shined like a shiny new sickle.

Small groups of Goblins shuttled in tight knit packs from one tavern to the next shop to the next Inn. The Galleons were flowing like Meade and the Goblins were there to protect the bag upon bag of money that had been so lavishly spent by the creme de la creme of the wizarding world.

The patrons who ventured out onto High Street would soon find themselves either being swept away with the steady flow of shoppers or they would have quickly found themselves be nearly trampled or forced into the first empty ally way between establishments.

The constant ringing of bells hanging low over entrance doorways were nearly drowned out by the constant and incessant ringing of bells from the tills and cash registers as patrons could hardly wait to be separated from the Gold, Silver and Bronze coins.

Aberfoth Dumbledore had never seen such constant business as his establishment, the Hogs Head Inn and Tavern had seen this Wedding fortnight.

Abe came rushing out of the inn with a small goat in his arms. Obviously this little four legged creature had not read the memo. While the guest were at the Hogs Head, non magical creatures were not allowed inside. No matter how often they had been allowed to curl up on the straw strewn floor or to nap in front of the massive stone fireplace at the end of the taverns main room.

Even the Old Curmudgeon seemed to have been buffed and preened to brilliant perfection. The very sight of an English Grandfather, that was until Abe opened his mouth and a few less than polite words found their way out, directed at a patron who had, had just a little too much to imbibe and was now stumbling aimlessly from crowded table to crowded table.

"OI!" Git yah blimey butt outta here, fore I sick meh elf on yer!"

The poor snockered sot just looked up with a befuddled expression on his face and promptly fell face forward into a large bowl of Lentil Soup another patron had been eating.

"Sorry bout thah!, Dozey git woulda hafta make a mess now, juz when weez all got to git the Inn readied feh thah dinna crowd!"

Aberforth withdrew his wand from the inside of his crisply starched white apron. With a quick swish and a flick the mess of spilled soup had been scourgified and the passed out patron was now floating along, just a few inches above the gleaming wooden floor. His form promptly disappeared behind the bar and then out the open back doorway that led to the alley way and the Goat Pens behind the Hogs Head.

[Duddahs]

All of Hogsmeade was abuzz. Witches and Wizards decked out in their finest cloaks, pointed hats. Cats, toads and other bizarre magical creatures being walked by house elves several steps ahead of their respective masters.

The entire town seemed to be glowing. Gold, Silver and Bronze glitter falling from the brilliant azure sky above like confetti yet disappearing before it touched any surface. The glittering reflection of the high noon sun's light was nearly blinding.

A small man in a blue crushed velvet cape walked along holding a giant butterfly net above his head. There in the 20' across woven fabric was an entire flock of Monarch Butterflies.

Down another alleyway a group of well groomed bearded men decked out in traditional tartan kilts and all manner of medals played bag pipes in a haunting yet somehow uplifting melody.

House elves darted in and out of every doorway, carrying baggage from their respective families.

Off in the distance the whistle of the Hogwarts Express blew it's approaching warning. Steam rising high into the air only to disperse among the glittering confetti dust.

Down at the Hogsmeade Station was an entire army of house elves all prepared to help the passengers, guests and dignitaries disembark from the crimson locomotive.

As the express rounded the bend a collective gasp could be heard making its way through the throng of elfen station hands.

At the very end of the Express, just after the caboose that normally is the final car on the train, trailed a gaudy, glittering, gilded private car. Billows of smoke puffing from the end car, the window blinds pulled down tight. No sound emitting from the giant steel wheels as they made their way across the two metal laid rails.

[Duddahs]

The deafening hiss of releasing steam catches all who are nearby off guard. The train had stopped, still it's engines huffed and puffed as pressurized clouds of smoke billowed from the stack above the coal car.

"Woo, Woo!" the steam whistle blast, announcing the arrival of magical machine and it's occupants. The doors of each car slide open as the hoard of house elves scramble to be at the front of the reception line. House elf's know that their only purpose in life is to serve the house and it's members. To be seen a few rows behind another house elf means that they had not fought hard enough to continue their respective families superiority and standing above all others.

The jostling, shoving, noise level among the elves suddenly turned violent. Teeth were bared, hair pulled, ears chewed upon by one another a black eye here, a bloody nose there, in the mad rush to be in the very front row.

From the sky above, a torrent of freezing cold water falls upon them, the house elf's are doused with the frigid free fall. They now look akin to drowned rats. Not one peep, not one motion is to be seen. The house elves simply stand sentinel as they await the impending arrival of their families members.

Flocks of Owls, Hawks, Eagles and a few stray Pigeon are released from the rooftops of the trains cars. They fly in every which direction, leaving smears of white droppings upon everyone and everything that they flew over.

Panels along the lower section of each car dropped down of their own accord. Luggage was now being quickly pulled out of these hidden compartments by the onslaught of House Elves. In a moment, there were mountains high stacks of Dragon Hide luggage, Cages with all sorts of magical creatures, screams of exotic birds, cats, dollywangers and rats splintered the noise being made by the frantic luggage retrieval.

A shiny black high heeled shoe is seen, then a leg, then a long pleated dress, in a moment, an entire Witch, dressed to the nines as if she had just walked off the pages of Which Witch Wears What Weekly. She was stunning, no doubt of the ilk that the likes that scurried the platform of the Hogsmeade Station had come to accept as their Masters.

Furiously, Witches and Wizards of note and means pour from the open doors of every train car. House Elves held placards high above their pointed ears, announcing the name of their family and house.

At the very back of the Hogwarts Express stands, and barely at that a crouched over haggard House Elf. Years, decades and possibly millennia had taken it's toll on this creature. As a matter of fact, within moments he is revealed by name.

"KREACHER, COME!" From the back steps of the overly gilded train car steps an old man, he too is hunched and slouched forward yet he is dressed in an exquisite tuxedo, black and white spats style shoes along with an ebony walking stick with a solid gold tip and handle adorned by the largest BLACK DIAMOND known to anyone, anywhere. He steps with grace though his gout had taken toll of his strength and time his youth. He turns, reaches his outstretched hand toward the back of the train. There his hand is met by another. The heavily wrinkled fingers are hidden well beneath the black silk gloves that appear to go on forever. They reach clear up to the shoulder of the most elegant if not exceedingly prim Witch the likes of Hogsmeade had seen in some time. As the elderly house elf scurries to her bequest, placing a small step stool for her ascent from the trains steps, no one is left with any doubt that this is a Witch of wealth, of importance and great standing. A Witch of breeding beyond the collective likes that had already assembled to partake in the nuptial festivities.

"Madame Black, Your carriage awaits." A magnificent black lacquer and gold encrusted coach pulls up just behind the party as they disembark their private car.

[Duddahs]

All living creatures, human and non human alike bow in respect to the elegant witch as she steps to the platform of Hogsmeade station. Ahead of every step she makes, deep crimson carpeting appears, leads the way from the Black Family private train car. It continues to appear before the effortless steps of Druella Rosier Black, hand in hand of her husband the honorable Cygnus Black III.

Kreature follows far behind the stately couple, picks up the stool, "POOF" it disappears into thin air. The filthy toga worn by the house elf billows from his frail form, additional steam is released from the Hogwarts Express wheel assembly.

"POP," Kreacher disappears only to reappear before the closed door of the shiny black and gold encrusted coach. Two pure white stallions stand at the head of the vehicle, high top plums of exotic bird feathers of pure white adorn their regal headdress. The manes of the steads are silken and flowing, their hind quarters muscular and glisten in the fading light of day.

The Blacks approach the coach, behind them the magical carpet begins to fade away from view.

"SNAP", Kreacher raises his hand high in the air, a bit of crackling is audible from his elderly joints. The door of the carriage slowly opens wide, a set of hand wrought stairs unfold before them. The steps are covered in plush carpet of stunning Persian design and execution. It must have taken many a talented witch to hand loom the carpets that cover not only the unfolded steps but also the stunningly decorated interior of the grand coach.

Cygnus steps to one side, still holding his mates silk gloved hand in a secure yet uncontested sublime gesture of support.

"My love, your chariot awaits." With this, Druella Rosier Black takes her first, then second step up the unfolded stairway. She makes her way into the sumptuous interior of the coach, followed closely by her husband.

Once again, Kreacher raises his hand high above his head, "SNAP." The carpeted stairs fold into one another, the door of the coach gently closes, secures itself with a gentle "CLICK."

The high pitched whinny of the white horses sound the departure of the patriarch and matriarch of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Clicking, clatter of hooves upon the cobbled pathway leading the carriage toward a steep incline. The pointed, staggered, crowded roof tops of Hogsmeade shops and dwellings lay upon the elevated horizon.

"POP."

Kreacher appears inside the coach which seems to float as if on the placid waters of the dark lake surrounding the landscape of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. The cobbled stone road is magically evened out and the ride within the Black Family carriage is one of comfort.

Laden with a Georgian silver tray with the Black family crest emblazoned upon each of the services hollow ware forms. The tea pot takes to the air, darkened brew pours from it's spout into elegant white porcelain tea cups decorated with tiny bands of black and gold as their only adornment and only at the very edge of the cups and saucers at that.

Steam rises from the tea filled cups, several small stirrers of pure crystal sugar float from the solid silver tray, lays themselves along side the saucers edge. The tea service floats away as small tray tables are revealed hidden in the walls of the carriage. The cups of tea float effortlessly to lay gently upon the surface of the lowered trays. Folded linens appear along side the cups of tea. A large embroidered
"B" in gaudy script boldly embellishes their crisp white surface.

A multi level tazza laden with small wedge shaped sandwiches of buttered bread, watercress, smoked salmon, cucumber and butter on the largest and bottom most plate, the upper trays are crowded with miniature scones, puffs filled with gleaming white whipped cream. Cookies and small chunks of chocolates, small fruits slices and berries as well as porcelain filled thimbles of clotted cream present the Blacks with their high tea delicacies.

The carriage makes it's way up the slope, the meticulously trained horses make not a snort even with their output of strength and power.

[Duddahs]

As the white feathered headdresses of the magnificent steeds breaks the crest, the village of Hogsmeade becomes increasingly detailed. The wheels of the carriage they pull continue to turn without sound upon the cobbled stone path that becomes High Street, so named for it's location high upon the hill side with a spectacular view of the Lake far beyond Hogsmeade Station.

Witches, Wizards, house elves, goblins and all sorts of magical creature, rush to the sides of the road in search of safety as the Black Family coach arrives in grand if not reckless fashion. The horses pay no attention to any living creature in it's way. The screams and sound of stampeding feet mean absolutely nothing to these ghostly white equine, their only purpose is to transport the occupants of their coach to the place of destination, in this case, The Three Broomsticks Tavern and Inn.

Thankfully for all of those nearly run down and trampled to death by the opulent transport, The Three Broomsticks is located directly over the rise of High Street, situated as the very first medieval structure on the right, the grandest and largest of all the structures in the same medieval building style that leads beyond.

The steeds come to a slow trot, ultimately coming to a complete halt directly in front of the entrance to The Three Broomsticks. A dozen toga clad House Elf rush from the open front door, unrolling a dark crimson oriental design carpet runner. The Black Family Crest embossed carriage door swings wide, Kreacher emerges from it's sumptuous interior. He bows low, one hand across his chest, the other arm swung firmly across his back. He reaches the arm that had been held against his sagging and aged tummy to present a thin black walking stick, adorned with a knob composed of a massive black diamond, one far larger, far more gaudy than the one that was seen earlier as the handle of Mr. Blacks cane.

Mr. Black disembarks from the carriage, much effort on his part yet he retains his composure and an air of the status from which he is birth born. The black silken gloved hand of Druella Black reaches from within the carriages comfort. Mr. Black takes the hand as Mrs. Blacks black dragon leather high healed shoe appears makes it's first step out and onto the unfolded wrought iron and carpet covered descent.

Druella Black arrives complete and in grand fashion. She is handed the slim walking stick by her house elf. A loud round of applause breaks out from all corners of Hogsmeade Village. The near deafening clapping and whistle calls go on for nearly a full turn of a 3 minute egg timer. Not a break of her concentration, not a single acknowledgement of the throngs who applaud and celebrate her appearance. She walks as smooth as the surface of ice along the oriental runner which the house elves had laid before their carriage.

Swiftly, Mr. and Mrs. Black are whisked into the entrance of the grandes establishment of the tiny all wizarding village of Hogsmeade. Once inside, hush, silence covers the entire room, that is until a baudy keep by the name of Rosemerta rushes to great the VIP guests.

"Mr. Black, Mrs. Black, it is my honor to welcome you to the historic Three Brooms Inn." She makes an effort to show off her best attempt at a courtsey only to be brushed off with the arrogant swipe of Mrs. Blacks arm.

"No need, we are not here for a long stay, our suite Madame. Kreacher be sure to have the bath readied with oils of lavender and rose petals."

"POP" with this command, Kreacher disaperates.

Madame Rosemerta stands, her hand pressed against her back as if having made the effort to courtsey to her guest had in some way strained her muscles to the point of pain.

"This way, please."

With a broad swipe of Rosemerta's arm, she welcomes her esteemed guests toward the open grill of a small elevator which will carry the Blacks to the expansion charmed upper suites. The Black family members who are considered worthy of this stay, that is.

The Three Broomsticks has been booked for as long as any Witch or Wizard can remember for this very special occasion. Only the upper crust of the Pure Blood Society also known as the original 50. The original 50 are the recognized 50 original all wizarding families, those who have resisted the temptation to introduce muggles into their family trees. There are far less than the original 50 families left though, many having succumbed to the extinction of their dynasty and left without male heirs to carry on the family name and traditions, purity. Far too many have become polluted with the introduction of muggles into the direct lineage, thus having willfully destroyed their own right to be accepted by their piers.

The Blacks' enter the elevator, the shiny polished brass grills closes, it begins the accent to the upper floors. The guests, patrons and staff of the Three Broomsticks become a whispering mass of excitement as each leans close to the one nearest. The rumors begin to fly with the speed of a Thestral.

Madame Rosemerta grabs hold of the lengthened skirt she wears, hikes it up above her shins, exposes the button high kid dragon hide leather shoes, scuffs and all. She takes off into a sprint up the flights of stairs. Hoping two stairs at a time in a very un-witchly like manner. Her long locks of wild hair flowing behind her like the tail of a wild Hippogriff taking flight.

As the gates of the elevator retract, Mr. and Mrs. Black emerge, enter the brightly lit hallway which leads to a row of wooden doors that make up the separate entrances to the suites the Black Family will occupy. They do not acknowledge Rosemerta's disheveled appearance as she huffs and puffs from the rush up the many flights of stairs to meet her VIP guests in person.

Kreacher opens the first door on the right, bows, welcomes his Mistress and Master inside. The Blacks show a sign of approval as a vast series of overly adorned and ornamented rooms are revealed. Heavy upholstered overstuffed chairs and sofa surround a roaring fire within a massive black marble hearth. A portrait of Druella Black hangs above the mantle. It's figure moves it's head smoothly from right to left, chin held just a bit too loftily, the air of haughty arrogance captured to a tee by the artist.

Mr. Black turns to his wife, in a very soft voice, "A very nice likeness, don't you think my love?"

Mrs. Black stares, moves her head to the side, contemplates her interpretation of the impression given by her likeness, then, "It will do."

Kreachers elderly voice cracks the calm nervousness that the suite is engulfed in; "Your bath my Mistress, it is readied to your requirements."

Mrs. Black leans toward Mr. Black, a quick peck on his cheek, clearly a sign of affection that is never seen by any living sole, yet Rosemerta finds herself witness to it's very display!

Rosemerta blushes, bows low and begins to walk backward toward the door that leads to the hallway and the stairs down to the pub.

"If we may be of any assistance, please ring for your complimentary house elf. She will be at your beck and call for your entire stay, compliments of The Three Broomsticks and Albus Dumbledore."

"Druella Black snaps her head toward the retreating Rosemerta, "Dumbledore? BAH! I will use my own House Elf. You may keep that creature for your less fortunate guests."

With this final command, Rosemerta closes the door, her back side enters the hallway. She stands upright, brushes her hair back from her forehead, gives her own quiet harrumph, turns on her heals, hikes up her skirt, descends the stairs with a bit of an edge to her movement. She has been insulted yet has the ability to hold it in control, that is until the Black's are well out of sight.

Upon taking her first step off the staircase, Rosemerta kicks a nearly half full brass spittoon. It's contents spill every which way, patrons stand in disgust at the sight, quickly move their chairs to different positions around their small round tables. Madame Rosemerta bursts into the kitchen via double swinging doors. A pair of small house elves are slammed hard by the doors having been pushed open in the same directions. They are thrown backward, their trays and pitchers once filled with butter-beer flies high into the air only to come crashing down around them in a massive mess.

"Clean that up! At once!" screams Rosemerta.

Suddenly she regains her composure, realizes what she has done, how she has just acted. She bursts into tears, bends low, holds out a helping hand to each of the house elves, helps them to their feet only to take to her knees, pulls a towel from her waist band, begins to wipe the floor where the sticky liquid splashed.

The two sobbing house elves come to her sides, snuggle up and produce small brooms and pans to assist in the clean up that Madame Rosemerta is attacking with sobs of regret.

[Duddahs]

The entrance door of the Three Broomsticks slams open, an entourage of giggling, squealing young witches barge in. Tables are forcefully pushed to the side, patrons toppled over onto the well worn wooden planks of the taverns ancient floor.

"Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?" the screaming demand splinters the calm and comfort of all who are present.

Madame Rosemerta's head snaps to the side, she glares over her shoulder, strands of disheveled hair stick to her forehead and cheeks as it mingles with the beautiful keep's tears. She moves with the speed of a Thestral as she stands to her full height, brushes the tangled mess of locks from her face in a motion that continues to plaster the wild strands along the curve of her scalp.

"Who has the gall to come into my establishment and create this mess, disturb my patrons P's and Q's? OUT, OUT with you, TRASH!"

The sudden hush at this command is followed by the slow parting of the throng of rabble rousing youthful witchery. A small figure moves from the back of the pack, she is dressed from head to toe in black, all black. Black fingernails glisten from the ends of sickeningly white flesh fingers. Long, dangerous, the fingers curl, clench into a fist. A tiny drip of red falls from the balled up fingers as the dagger like claws dig deep into the palm of the dark figure.

She moves forward with a grace, a glide as if sliding across the surface of ice. Her head is lowered, long locks of wavy jet black hair dangles over her face, features totally obscured from view. A blood stained hand lowers, reaches deep within the satin black cloak that covers her form.

The other witches, wizards and house elves who were previously enjoying the comforts and carefree ambience of the Three Broomsticks Tavern now find themselves crawling under any surface which had not become overturned by the hoard of revelers that barged into Rosemerta's safe enclave.

Never before had Rosemerta been so angry, to the point which she too would reach deep into her denim skirt to withdraw her wand. Pointing it directly at the figure who is pointing it's own wand directly at her.

"Protego!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Flashes of brilliant light streak toward each other, the ear drum splitting crash as they meet, mid tavern. The blinding mesh of light, sparks are sent in every direction. Small outbreaks of fire catch upon the overturned tables and their cloths. The protective charm and the disarming spell counter each other with neutralizing results.

The house elves who were working to clean up the spilled mess in the kitchen along side Madame Rosemerta sprint into action. Using only their bare hands, they pound out each of the tiny flames before they become a roaring fire.

Long black hair flips high into the air above the black cloaked figure. Her face revealed, a gasp of surprise, then a hushed fear fills the tavern.

Bellatrix Black in all her wicked glory. Her dark eyes open wide, the depth of blackness they reflect is terrifying, Rosemerta's wand falls from her outstretched appendage. Fingers spread wide, she throws her arms up into the air in a sign of utter defeat, resignation, surrender.

Laughter echoes the motionless tavern room. All eyes are either upon Bellatrix or Rosemerta. One standing with herself fully exposed, prone to destruction by the other. The snickers, giggles then all out laughter from the group of witches that surround Bellatrix strikes fear in Rosemerta, she drops to her knee, head bowed, one hand upon the floor boards as the other reaches forward. The words slip from the humbled keep;

"Please, Madame Black, forgive me, please. I only thought of defending your family and their guests from any intrusion, from any attempt to..."


"SHUT UP! You grovelling filthy wench! HOW DARE YOU ADDRESS ME BY NAME?" The hissing voice comes from the face of the deadly beauty that is Bellatrix Black.

[Duddahs]

"I will ask one last time, if I do not get the answer I am looking for, I will blast this filthy inn off the face of Hogsmeade. Now, tell me, the old Malfoy woman, where is she?"

Rosemerta forces herself to stay calm in spite of the cold that runs down her spine. Her head rises to look Bellatrix directly in the eye. Anxiety captures her nerves for a moment which seems more like time suspended. Courage begins to run through her veins, she brings herself to an upright position. A brief consideration of embarrassment crosses her mind only to be forcefully shoved aside by her own self worth. Rosemerta is no one's slave, not even to the Ancient House of Black and it's nasty little offspring.

"She is not here, and is not booked to stay with us during your nuptials, now if you would excuse me, I have a business to run and no time for your idle threats."

Bella's reaction to the stinging words is swift, yet not swift enough. The young witch is thrown back, hits the open door and falls to a slumped heap, now black and blue.

Standing in the second floor landing are the matriarchs of the Black family. Druella and Walburga Black, side by side, wands drawn. The stare down between aunt, mother and daughter gives the frightened patrons of the Three Broomsticks barely enough time to slip out the back exit of the tavern. The escape into the dirty alley way that leads toward the other side of Hogsmeade, hopefully the safe side of Hogsmeade.

"Get up, clean yourself off girl, don't you know that your actions reflect upon our name? You will send this silly group of laughing jackals back to which ever establishments that will find themselves abused by their absurd behavior. Your mother and I have no time for this foolishness, now GET UP!"

The burning anger inside of Bella is apparent to everyone present. Members of her entourage needed not to be told twice, with the brushing aside of Bella's bloodied hand, the mad dash for the exit commences.

From behind the stately dowagers, slips out a little cough, Kreacher had made his presence to be known.

"My Mistress, Kreacher wishes to be told what are her needs be, Kreacher will gladly see to it that they are done at once, Kreacher lives to serve the house of Black."

"No, no need, she knows who are the better witches, and if not, her mother and I will gladly send her another little gift package to remind her of her station."

"As you wish Mistress," Kreacher bows low, his crooked nose touching the second floor landing carpet, his eyes never once leave Bellatrix as she regains her posture, brushes off her dust covered satin cape.

The Black sisters-in-law move simultaneously, taking each step down the staircase toward the tavern room in perfect synchronicity. Neither appears affected by the angry glare directed their way by the junior Black. Their arrival upon the landing step, an aloof turn to face the silent Rosemerta could not have sent a louder message to Bellatrix. She has been put into her place, on the fortnight of her wedding, in front of a room full of her piers no less.

"High tea, a party of three", Druella states in her matter of fact tone. She waves her age thinned arm at her disheveled daughter, motions her to take a seat at one of the few tables which has not been disturbed.

The elderly Black woman and the cowering Bellatrix take their seats which are pulled to an access position by the quick actions of Rosemerta's two house elves and aided by the incredibly agile Kreacher. The three woman sit as if nothing had happened, the house elves retreat just as quickly as they had assisted them and return to righting the overturned tables, going about their business as usual, setting out silver ware, napkins, water glasses and tankards of cold ale. The pending High Tea crowd begins to saunter in. Unbeknownst to these new guests of the brutal put down which had been displayed just moments before.

Rosemerta personally attends to the table occupied by the Black family members. She places a porcelain tazza laden with crumpets, scones, clotted cream, small wedge shaped sandwiches of butter and cucumber. Another house elf, one unseen during the melee appears with a hot pot of tea, wedges of lemon, cubes of crystallized sugar upon long swizzel sticks and a small pot of honey with a wooden stir  to tempt the witches.

"Yes, that will do." proclaims Walburga Black, with this send off the small house elf rushes to the aid of another table of patrons waiting to be seated.

Walburga turns her head to one side, speaks in a low tone, "Now, my dear niece, who is this "SHE" you caused all of this fuss about?"

The cheeks upon Bella's flushed face bright as embers. A low hiss escapes her parted lips, "Celeste, Celeste Malfoy, that filthy witch, she has brought my blood traitor sister here, to my wedding. She has her hidden somewhere and I will find her, blast her off the face of....."

"Now, now Bella, your blood pressure, take a deep breath, slowly exhale lest you pass out from your own doing." Walburga is in no mood for yet another one of her nieces temper tantrums, especially not in public."

Druella leans forward, addresses her daughter for the first time with true concern in her voice, "How do you know of this Bella? Have you proof that Celeste Malfoy has defied your agreement and brought Andromeda here, here of all places? I believe you had made it perfectly clear to her that she was not welcome, not now, not here, not ever!"

The vitriolic spitting response of Bellatrix Black could no longer be contained; "Yes, well, shows how much you two know, I was given proof, proof I say, in person by one who I trust with my life. He came to me in the night, knocked upon my door, I allowed him entry to my suite only to be informed of the low life muggle loving trash and how she is being kept up at the Castle. Dumbledore himself has her as his guest, as if it were not bad enough to have their filthy kitchen rats running all over the place. There he stands, high and mighty, bold as brass, protecting that gutter snipe."

Walburga turns to Druella, a look of deep concern shared between them.

[Duddahs]

"Ted, will you please stop pacing, you are making the baby nervous? Her hair has changed 13 different colors in the last 5 minutes!"

The young man finally stops in his tracks, breaths in deep, exhales. He allows himself to fall into a slumped mess of nerve wracked flesh and bones. Lucky for him, Andromeda is quick, her wand whips out before her husband hits the hard floor as she whispers a cushioning charm.

"Oh dear! I'm so sorry love, I'm just so worried that Dumbledore will mess up this time. How is it that I ever allowed you to come here for that monsters union to yet another monster? Mark my word, nothing good will come of this marriage, nothing at all and lord forbid that they might reproduce! Oy! can you imagine the little monster those two would produce?"

"I know Teddy, you are worried about the baby, and myself, don't be, Professor Dumbledore has my full confidence. No harm will come to any of us as long as he is here to protect us. That and nothing to say if Bella were to pull some idiotic stunt in front of our mother. Yes, I know she has personally burned myself and our little gift off the family tree but she will not stand for anyone to embarrass her in public. Just calm down my darling, everything will be fine."

Andromeda's words are reassuring but there is little doubt that she too has concern. Her beautiful smile is not as broad nor are her brows quiet as high upon her forehead as they had been in recent days.

She holds the bundle of joy a little closer to her breast, the toddler seems to  be enjoying her over protective mother. Nymphadora is loving all the attention lavished upon her. Giggles and gurgles emit from her tiny mouth, causes her fathers smile to return for the first time all day.

"Pop!"

A flash of light, replaced by the leathery form of a tiny creature clothed in a blue gingham one piece sun dress and an equally shiny smile.

"Mr. and Mrs. Tonks and baby Tonks, Professor Albus Dumbledore requests your presence in the great hall. Dinner will be served promptly at 6pm. Will you require anything before I return to the headmaster with your response?"

Ted Tonks looks to his wife, after-all she is familiar with wizarding protocol. Ted has simply never gotten the hang of some of the rituals that he has been exposed to over the short time he and Andromeda have been married.

"Yes, there is something you can do for us, please, call me Meda and this is my husband, we would be honored if you would refer to him as Ted, not Mr. Tonks. You see, Mr. Tonks is Teddy's father. He is one of the finest men I have ever met but he is to me, well us, Mr. Tonks. This is our daughter, Nymphadora, you may simply call her Dora."

Andromeda bends low, holds the child out to the tiny house elf. Tears well up in the elf's eyes, run in rivulets down her cheeks to become two tiny puddles of wet at her feet.

"Oh, no, Skylark could never speak to the headmasters guest by these names. Skylark is so embarrassed even being asked of such a thing, but may it be OK if Skylark were to call the tiny one Dora? Dora is such a beautiful witch and she has such pretty blue hair too!"

Ted and Andromeda break into giggles. The house elf slowly reaches out her arms as Mrs. Tonks places the baby in the loving arms of Skylark. Ted looks to his wife, reaches out, grasps her extended hand, she helps pull her husband to a standing position. The silken pillows are quickly rearranged into a neat pile in the corner of the room. Skylark holds baby Dora close to her drooping ears, snuggles her cheek along side that of the little one's grape purple locks. She is gently rocked back and forth in the embrace of the house elf.

Ted pulls his wife close to his side, a little peck upon her soft cheek.

"What was that for?" asks Andromeda.

"I love you, do I really need a reason? Where would I be had I never met the most beautiful woman in the world? I dare not even allow that kind of nightmare come to mind. You are my all, my everything, our everything, Dora and I. Thank you for being who you are, please never change."

Andromeda looks deep into the soulful eyes of her handsome husband. To her, she has found her knight in shining armor. How is it that he speaks the words that explain every feeling that's inside of her? He is my soul mate, we have brought into this world the most beautiful gift of love, our little Dora will one day be loved by someone as wonderful as her father, someone brave, handsome, giving, without a care for his place in this world of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Merlin, I can only wish for her, someone to love her half as much as I am in love with her father.

Skylark clears her throat, presents the loving couple with their child. Ted bends low, retrieves his beautiful Robins Egg Blue haired daughter.

"Professor Dumbledore must not be kept waiting, does Mr., Mrs. Tonks and of course Dora wish to respond to the headmaster?"

"Oh, yes, I am so sorry Skylark, please inform Professor Dumbledore that we will be attending dinner in short order, thank you."

"PoP."

The house elf is gone as quickly as she had come. The three Tonks head to the oak door, enter the dark hallway, proceed to the top landing of the Astronomy Tower stairs.

The late day sunlight filters through the tops of the Forbidden Forest tree tops. A large flock of black crow are seen flying high above Hagrid's Hut.

"It is a lovely place, don't you agree Teddy?"

"Brilliant dear, simply brilliant."

"Gurgle, gurgle."