Chapter Twenty-Eight: Arrival in Paris
By the end of June, Andrea was much happier that her mind wasn’t being broken into daily. Lottie got a surprising amount of practice on unsuspecting first years”she noticed that all of the younger students began avoiding her in the corridors. Only Professor Breckenridge seemed concerned about their trip; Lottie hadn’t shown him a successful display of Legilimency in weeks.
Exams marked the official end of the year. The Occlumecy test was almost laughable. Lottie was sure she got an O. “How about trying some Legilimency, eh?” Breckenridge asked desperately. “For extra credit.”
Lottie tried not to laugh as she agreed. She didn’t even reach for her wand. Breckenridge wasn’t using strong Occlumency, Lottie could tell; if he were, she would not have been able to break into his mind.
Only a vague, shadowed face appeared in her mind. She could see nothing but a large, hooked nose and sheets of black hair. Rage coursed through her veins like water running down a faucet. Something about that face seemed unnervingly familiar…
“Oho, that is quite enough, quite enough,” chorused Breckenridge. “Good job, Rowe. I don’t know why I was worried about your abilities. We all go through blocks, don’t we?” He chuckled heartily and patted Lottie heavily on the shoulder. “Have a safe trip.”
Lottie nearly danced out of the exam room to meet up with Andrea, who, judging by her skewed glasses and bitter scowl, wasn’t feeling quite as giddy. “How’d exams go?” Lottie asked.
“Occlumency was a complete disaster.” Andrea scoffed as they rounded the corner on the way to the common room. They were scheduled to depart the next morning at four and were only allowed to bring as much as they could carry in the small pack that Stainthorpe had given them.
That night, Lottie fell asleep quickly. Death Eaters haunted her dreams; Breckenridge’s mysterious hook-nosed enemy lurked in the shadows.
She could only have been asleep for minutes”maybe seconds”when Andrea shook her awake. “Come on,” she whispered. “We’ve got to go!”
“Mmm… Just”just five more minutes.” Lottie rolled over.
“Lottie!” Andrea grabbed a chunk of Lottie’s hair and pulled to wake her up. “We need to be in Stainthorpe’s office in ten minutes! Hurry up”get dressed!” Lottie groaned and sat up. Andrea clamped a hand over Lottie’s mouth to silence her. “And don’t be too loud. We can’t wait Julianne and Sophie. Ew! Lottie!” she hissed, wiping Lottie’s drool off on the bedspread. “I know you’re tired, but that’s just gross.”
Chuckling to herself, Lottie leapt out of bed, threw on a robe and ran with Andrea down the dark halls of Alsemore to Professor Stainthorpe’s office. Stars still glimmered beneath the thick layer of clouds and haze outside.
Palmyitor, Maelioric, Clynalmoy and Stainthorpe were crowded in the office waiting for them. Lottie rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn as she entered the stuffy room. Palmyitor had already dawned her tidy, ironed dress robes. Clynalmoy, Lottie could tell, had thrown on the same wrinkled clothes he had on the day before. Maelioric was still in his red and gold striped pajamas.
“Why do we have to leave so early?” Lottie asked as she slumped against the wall.
“Because Death Eaters monitor the use of registered and unregistered Portkeys,” Palmyitor snapped, her frown lines deepening. She was clearly not a morning person.
“What would be the point of watching Portkey use,” mumbled Lottie, “if all someone had to do was wake up early to go wherever they wanted?”
“Cool it,” Andrea whispered.
“Of course they’re still watching,” Palmyitor went on, “but this does make chances better for avoiding them. You will be undercover, in any case.” She held out two flasks. “This is called Polyjuice Potion. I wouldn’t call it scrumptious, but it will make you assume the form of another. You will use this for traveling. Once the situation is secure, you may stop taking it. Until then, Rowe, your name is Hannah Finnigan. Your grandfather was a classmate of Harry Potter, but his children were corrupted by the Death Eaters when they attended Hogwarts. You were in Slytherin house and have mediocre magical ability. Got that?”
Brow furrowed, Lottie nodded, trying to remember it all.
“Woolbright, you’re Elaine Baxster. You’re a half-blood, but you pretend to be a pureblood. You were sorted into Slytherin as well and excelled in Transfiguration.”
“Right.”
Stainthorpe held a silver inkpot in her outstretched palm. “Here is the Portkey,” she said. “It will leave in five minutes, so I suggest you two take your Potions.”
Lottie held the flask up to the light. The liquid was dark, almost black, and looked so thick that it seemed more like a solid. “Cheers,” she said. She drank the entire glass, Andrea beside her. Once the liquid touched her lips, she felt an overwhelming urge to vomit. The potion was so thick that it stuck to the back of her throat. She glanced at Andrea, who had her eyes shut so tight that it looked like her head might burst. Lottie’s stomach lurched as Andrea’s skin morphed, reddened and stretched.
Lottie fell to her knees and leaned her face against the cool stone. The bones in her fingers crunched”shortened; her fingernails grew until they were elegant and shiny. A layer of red paint stretched itself across the surface of them; Lottie’s eyes widened.
Lottie gasped and stared at the ceiling, eyes wide. She pushed herself to her feet and stared at her new body before turning to Andrea. Elaine Baxter was just about as tiny as her, but her hair was long and blond, unlike Andrea’s brown, shoulder length cut.
“Ready to go?” Stainthorpe held out the Portkey. “Goodbye Nasea, Ryan, Fornax. I’ll send word when we arrive.”
Lottie placed a finger on the Portkey. With a sudden jerk, she was gone. They traveled quickly. Lottie could feel Andrea bumping against her elbow. It was odd seeing someone else’s body, but knowing that it was Andrea.
The spinning finally stopped. Lottie slammed against the ground; her knees scraped against the stone.
“Welcome to Paris,” said Stainthorpe, grinning at her surroundings.
“Oi! You there!”
Lottie’s heart skipped a beat. A Death Eater, short, but still rather menacing, waddled toward them. “Where d’you think you’re going? Who are you anyway? What are you doin’ using Portkeys?”
Lottie reached a hand into her robe and wrapped her fingers around the handle of her wand.
Stainthorpe smiled at the Death Eater and explained, “I am Marianne Stainthorpe, personal assistant to the Baxter family. I am accompanying these two girls on holiday.” Lottie could see the tip of Stainthorpe’s wand emerge from her robe.
“And why did yeh use a Portkey?”
In a very quick bit of wand work, Stainthorpe confunded the Death Eater. He sat on the ground, gazing unconcernedly at the top of Lottie’s head. “Thank you,” he hummed. “Remember to get inside for curfew.”
“You are very welcome.” Stainthorpe flashed him a smile before spinning on her heel and beckoning for Lottie and Andrea to follow.
“Not so fast!” shouted an approaching voice. This time there were more. No less than ten Death Eaters ran towards them, wands out.
“Behind me,” breathed Stainthorpe. Lottie and Andrea both obeyed instantly. Lottie stared blankly at the approaching rush of dark wizards. “Use magic if you must,” Stainthorpe went on. “But only defensively. Got that?”
Lottie had dealt with Death Eaters before and knew that usually they weren’t too bright. If they didn’t try to kill her immediately, she thought she might stand an okay chance.
A flash of red”two of the Death Eaters’ wands clattered to the stones. Stainthorpe jabbed her wand furiously and, with another flash, three Death Eaters fell, stunned, to the ground. The few left charged toward them, shooting spells with incantations that Lottie did not recognize.
“Protego!” Stainthorpe’s shield blocked her, Lottie and Andrea and reflected the hexes back at the Death Eaters. The professor smirked with almost a bored confidence. The Death Eaters shouted profanities as their own curses rebounded upon them.
Lottie’s cheers were cut short by the approach of a faint scuffling sound. She spun around just in time. A Death Eater behind them raised his wand. “Protego!” Lottie shouted. Her shield glimmered confidently, orange and red, until”
Like shards of broken glass, the light of their shattered shield intermingled with the Death Eater’s dark purple hex and flew toward them. “DUCK!” Lottie screamed. She hurled her weight onto Andrea and pushed her down, out of the line of fire; the asphalt scraped her face and bruised her arms. Safe from the ground, Lottie could feel the jinx flying above her head, grazing her hair. She panted against the warm pavement; Andrea groaned next to her.
A scream. Stainthorpe hadn’t ducked in time. The hex didn’t kill her or even knock her down, but she stumbled forward a few paces and froze. Her face was strained and oddly still.
Lottie’s mind went blank. She could feel the Death Eaters’ footsteps, five pairs in front and one from behind. She pushed herself up from the pavement and shouted, “Expelliarmus!” The wand flew out of Death Eater behind them’s hands. He stared at her as she caught his wand. “Andrea? Andrea! Get the other ones!”
“What?” Andrea groaned from the ground. “Oh!” She held her wand out from the ground. “Impendimenta!” She pushed herself up and planted her feet against the stone. “Impedimenta! Stupefy!”
The oncoming Death Eaters froze. Stainthorpe gasped and fell to her knees. “Good job, girls,” she said. “Now we just need to get out of here. Come on”run!”
For her age, Stainthorpe was a shockingly fast runner. “Why,” Lottie panted, “were”they speaking”English?”
“Border control,” Stainthorpe said without looking back.
“But”but they””
“The Dark Lord has”English supporters in nearly every country”reporting back to him,” wheezed Stainthorpe.
Gasping, Lottie nodded. A stitch formed in her side as they careened around a corner.
They were going for too long. Lottie’s legs burned in protest. Mucus swelled in her lungs, causing her to cough into the inside of her elbow and wipe her mouth on the back of her hands. Her feet ached more and more with each step. It felt like they had been going for hours.
Stainthorpe held out a hand to stop the pair of sprinting students. “Here we are,” she said.
Lottie looked up, clasping a stitch in her side. She didn’t really understand what she was supposed to be looking at, but Stainthorpe seemed rather impressed. “Convincing… very clever,” she muttered to herself.
In front of them stood a huge pile of anything and everything”doors, footrests, bed frames, even dead bodies, arranged like a barricade. Above, a single French flag fluttered solemnly in the wind.
“Is that their headquarters?” Andrea asked.
Stainthorpe nodded.
“That’s not very clever at all,” Lottie said. “A barricade is the first place to look.”
“Without the history behind it, it wouldn’t seem so, no,” Stainthorpe said. “These started popping up everywhere once Death Eaters began to invade the country”a call to history, I always thought. The Death Eaters destroyed them, but left the wreckage as a reminder to the Muggles in case if they planned any more revolts. Anyway, in we go. Your potion is starting to wear off.”
Lottie looked down; her hair was growing longer and turning from brown to blond again. “Er”sorry to be rude,” she began, “but how do we get in?”
Stainthorpe smirked. “Here, follow me.” She pushed aside one of the carcasses and found a hole just big enough to crawl through. She beckoned Lottie and Andrea on and disappeared into the barricade.
Lottie stared at the hole where Stainthorpe had just been. “Well come on then,” said Andrea, shoving her glasses back on. It was dark inside. Lottie had to keep one hand in front of her to not crawl into the walls of the mazelike tunnel. The place felt like a giant anthill.
Finally, Andrea stopped crawling. They emerged in a huge opening, like a meeting hall, complete with balcony. Stainthorpe was already discussing something with an official looking man in fluent French.
“Fancy bit of magic,” Lottie said casually, the corners of her lips switching. “What the hell was Palmyitor thinking, sending us with a Portkey? There must have been ten Death Eaters there.”
“Imagine how bad it would have been if we’d gone at night,” Andrea replied.
Stainthorpe returned to them, grinning and clutching a silver coin. “Well we’ve won half the battle,” she said triumphantly.
“Who was that?” asked Andrea, gesturing in the direction of the French man.
“Head of the underground rebellion over here,” Stainthorpe explained. Spotting the surprised look on Lottie’s face, she added, “You didn’t think that Naesa, Ryan and Fornax were running the rebellion all around the world, did you?”
“No.” Truthfully, Lottie had imagined Palmyitor as queen of the world.
“Well,” continued Stainthorpe, “he was shocked to find that some of the Order of the Phoenix is still around. He’d heard of Alsemore, of course. He was more than happy to give us a hand.”
Lottie eyed the silver coin that Stainthorpe held. “So that’s it, then?”
“Oh, you’ll see.” Stainthorpe moved toward the exit of the barricade and shook her head as Lottie make an impulse toward her flask of Polyjuice. “No point in going undercover anymore. The Death Eaters over here will have identified those aliases. Come on.”
They crawled back through the tunnel outside of the barricade and emerged in the bright sunlight. Rows of ancient, crumbling buildings lined the streets, where occasionally, Lottie could see a telephone booth or a streetlamp that reminded her of what the city used to be. “Clever,” remarked Stainthorpe. “Brilliant use of magic. Nothing too complicated, but clever nonetheless.”
She led them down the old Muggle street. There were no Death Eaters about; it was very much like London outside of the camps. “Are there Muggle camps here?” Lottie asked.
“Oh yes,” Stainthorpe said with a nod. “It’s not quite as severe as it is in England, but most big cities have a camp. I expect there’s one around here somewhere.”
They walked along in silence for about twenty minutes, their backpacks thumping against their backs. “Try not to look,” Stainthorpe advised as the gates of the Muggle camp came into view. “You haven’t been there in years; it will be rather disturbing.”
Lottie couldn’t help herself. She slowly turned to face the camp. It was horrible”almost exactly the same as Lottie’s camp, but somehow made worse by Lottie’s detachment from it. Children lined the gates, their tiny, dirty faces pressed up against the bars hopefully.
“Bouge, chien,” shouted one of the Death Eaters, grabbing a little boy by the scruff of his neck. He leaned over until his face was an inch from the Muggle child’s and growled, “Qu’est-ce que tu regardes?”
The little boy shook his head. “Rien,” he stuttered.
The Death Eater scowled and threw the Muggle to the ground. “Petit merde,” he spat.
Stainthorpe didn’t wait for the Death Eater to notice them. She grabbed Lottie and Andrea and shoved them to the ground behind an old Muggle dumpster. The smell was so familiar, rotting flesh and sour milk; it reminded her of crouching under trash piles to avoid Death Eaters. She peaked inside of the dumpster; it held naked, Muggle bodies with decaying faces. From her hiding spot, Lottie could see the Death Eater search for the object of the children’s attention in vain.
High-pitched squeals filled the air”the sound of children crying. The Death Eater had given up looking for them and had turned his attention to the Muggles. Stainthorpe tapped Lottie on the shoulder to signal for her to follow. They went on their way. Lottie didn’t look back.
“We’re not far now,” Stainthorpe said as she picked up her pace. “Should be”aha!” She stopped; a grin stretched across her face.
“What?” Lottie asked. “What’s there?”
Stainthorpe stepped aside to reveal an old Muggle parking meter. It was quite unimpressive. She held up the coin, causing Andrea to, “Oooh,” understandingly, but Lottie still cocked her head. Stainthorpe dropped the coin into the meter and waited.
“Votre nom?” a female voice from the meter asked.
Lottie stumbled back a few steps. There had been a lot of parking meters in the camps; none of them had talked.
“Marianne Stainthorpe,” Stainthorpe said coolly. “Charlotte Rowe et Andrea Woolbright.”
A tense moment of waiting followed, but Professor Stainthorpe did not seem at all concerned; indeed, she looked rather excited. Something inside the parking meter clicked and it began to spin clockwise, slowly sinking into the ground.
“Hop on now,” Stainthorpe said, grabbing the top of the meter. Lottie glanced down and gasped. Beneath them was a steep, spiraling staircase that stretched on into immeasurable darkness. Lottie carefully descended the stairs. The steps were steep and short, making it very hard not to fall.
“Light your wands, I think,” Stainthorpe instructed as they carefully continued downward. “The light will disappear soon. Ah”there it goes now.” Above, the sound of stone grinding on stone echoed down the entire passageway, leaving them in complete darkness.
“Lumos,” Lottie whispered. Stainthorpe and Andrea did the same.
“Where are we going?” Andrea asked.
“It’s a series of underground passageways,” Stainthorpe explained. “They’re used for the rebellion. We had a similar one in England, but it was discovered about ten years ago.”
“So now what do we use?” Lottie asked.
“The sewage systems, if we must.” Stainthorpe wrinkled her nose. “No doubt you two understand the downside to that.”
Lottie winced. She and Andrea had used the sewers the summer previous to find Grimmauld Place. “There aren’t any dead bodies in this one, are there?” she asked.
“Oh, no. The French do much better than we do at disposing of their dead.” They reached the bottom of the stair. The floor beneath was stone, but it was so flooded with puddles that they might as well had been wading through a stream. “They take turns collecting the bodies and giving them a proper funeral.”
“That seems rather time consuming,” Andrea said.
“Exactly why we don’t do it. Hm, is this it?” Stainthorpe raised her wand to read a street sign next to another spiral staircase. “No, I don’t think so. The man at the barricade said it was about a mile.”
They continued on in silence until Andrea asked, “Do you do this a lot?”
Stainthorpe paused. “Go on little excursions, you mean? No, not very often. In my youth, I was always the first to volunteer. But after a while, age creeps up on you and the Death Eaters begin to recognize you.” She paused again. “Naesa still goes out fairly often.”
“To spy on the Death Eaters?” Lottie asked.
Stainthorpe looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “She does many things. Her skills help our side greatly.”
“What about Maelioric?” Andrea asked.
“He only goes to big battles.” Stainthorpe checked another sign, shook her head and continued on. “He’s a superb dueler, even at his age. Ryan, of course, rarely goes out; he still does do quite a bit of the strategic planning, though.”
“And Breckenridge?”
“Oh yes,” Stainthorpe said, nodding so that her shadow distorted in the wand light. “He’s out almost every evening. It took quite a lot of scheduling for him to fit your tutoring sessions into his day.”
Lottie blushed. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Oh, nothing to be sorry for,” Stainthorpe said with a wave of her hand. “It was quite worthwhile, I hear. Have you really mastered Legilimency?”
Lottie hid her grin in front of Andrea. “Nearly,” she said. “I could never break an Occlumens, but”” She stopped. She had almost said, ‘but I had no problem with the first years.’ “But… I could do it when Breckenridge let me.”
“Impressive. And you, Woolbright?”
“Er…”
“She’s coming along,” Lottie answered swiftly. “She almost blocked me completely the other day.”
Stainthorpe looked impressed.
Andrea smiled at Lottie and mouthed, “Thanks.”
“Oh, here we are.” Stainthorpe’s wand light reflected off of a rusting, metal plate that read, ‘Somptebree.’ “Up we go.”
Going up the stairs proved much more difficult than going down was. It felt like it went on for miles. Once or twice, Lottie tried skipping a step, but would only end up twice as tired as before. Finally, they reached the top. Lottie’s head bumped against the stone, causing her to swear loudly. Andrea looked at her disapprovingly, but Stainthorpe laughed sadly. She tapped on the stone above with her wand and it opened up.
The daylight was blinding. Lottie rubbed her eyes. “Nox,” she murmured.
“We’re going to have to be a bit more low key this time,” Stainthorpe said. “We’re not as protected as we were before.” She led them to another dumpster and hid behind it for a few minutes. “They won’t recognize you two, but they will recognize me. So go on without me if you need to. Got that? I’m sure Mr. Lontelles will hide you.”
Lottie nodded, but her throat was dry. She prayed that no Death Eaters would catch Stainthorpe. The idea of having to go on alone was terrifying.
“Alright. Ready? Go.”
They ran. Stainthorpe counted the houses as they went. They didn’t see any Death Eaters”the street was mostly deserted, but with so many houses, Lottie was worried somebody was watching. “Stop,” Stainthorpe breathed, holding out a hand. They were in front of number eighteen. The door was a faded red. Paint chipped off the wood, leaving light pink behind in the mahogany.
Stainthorpe turned to the pair and smiled. “Ready?” She climbed onto the stoop and knocked with the brass, lion head knocker. They stood in silence for a few minutes; a light above them was extinguished. Stainthorpe knocked again. Lottie’s heart fluttered. She thought she could hear footsteps drawing nearer. Dusty rubies around the side of the lion knocker glimmered as the door opened.
The man inside was not at all Lottie’s idea of the heroic Neville Longbottom. He was pudgy, with a round face and dark eyes that did not glimmer like Professor Maelioric’s. His hair was a dull brown, peppered with grey. He wore short, threadbare robes, khaki pants and an untucked shirt. His eyes were lined with dark circles.
“Est-ce que c’est la Maison de Monsieur Victor K. Lontelles?” Stainthorpe asked.
The man eyed her suspiciously. “Oui,” he said.
“Je suis Professor Marianne Stainthorpe. Je suis partie de la révolution anglaise”Alsemore Academy.”
“Qui sont-elles?” The man pointed at Lottie and Andrea with his wand. Lottie wrapped her fingers around her own.
“Des étudiantes. Lottie Rowe et Andrea Woolbright. Elles sont ici avec moi parce qu’elles ont découvert quelque chose d’important,” Stainthorpe said. Lontelles furrowed his brow and squinted. Stainthorpe went on, “Est-ce que vous connaîssez quelqu’un qui s’appelle Neville Longbottom?”
Lontelles stared at Stainthorpe, who smiled knowingly back at him. His eyes grew wide and he took a step out of the doorframe.
“Hermione?”
Halfway to Infinity by Eponine
Chapter Notes: Thank you to TheBird for the quick beta job!
Okay, a reader reminded me to do those little chapter-before summaries. So--here we go. Last chapter, Colm Scrivener approached Lottie and Andrea about their summer activities; things got a bit heated and Colm ended up in this hospital wing. Lottie finally successfully performed Legilimency, but Andrea was not pleased with being the targets of so many attacks. To help her friend, Lottie did not break into her mind in lessons, but instead practiced on unsuspecting first years in her free time.
Thanks to my Biffle, Cheddabitz, Merlynne and TheBird for help with the French! This chapter is dedicated to the foot doctor who (apparently) saved me from losing a toe!