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The Brewmaster's Mystery | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Drama Warnings: Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 150 Summary: MMB is growing, Charlie and Seph are about to be parents and Harry and Ginny will be wed in mere months; life appears to be perfect. But when unexplained failures begin occurring around the brewery, Harry can't help but wonder if something is afoot. Hitcount: Story Total: 88277; Chapter Total: 2751 Author's Notes: Hey all, here's another chapter. I apologize in advance for the shortness and general creepiness. Both my beta's thought it was rather "icky". I'd love to hear your theories. Speaking of theories, I post teasers, questions, pictures and updates on my Facebook page. Look for Mutt N Feathers and please friend me. The song is by Depeche Mode, and adds to that creepy feeling. Thanks for reading and reviewing, MNF |
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Chapter 15: The Things You Said February 15, 2000, early hours of the morning Unknown POV: I won’t be seen tonight, of that much I’m sure. I wasn’t a Transfigurations Master for nothing. They’d never expect the person who had put the barns ablaze would be perched in a tree only feet away from the flames. Hell, seeing a common nighthawk scanning the darkened earth for vermin to dine on wouldn’t even be noteworthy; hence the ‘common’ in the name. I’d gone after the greenhouses first; all those specialty plants housed there. I had listened to the boy go on and on about them. Who cared about how one bloom tasted verses another? Alcohol was intended to numb oneself, how it tasted is an irrelevant issue. Personally, I couldn’t stand beer; took far too long to achieve my desired state. Firewhiskey, Russian Numbing Vodka or even Absinthe were far more to my taste; especially the last two; they allowed me to escape the mundane nature of my life. He’s smart, that boy, maybe too smart. He’s perceptive, taking note of everything. They say he’s some Quidditch phenom, yet he chooses to brew beer? Perhaps it’s simply overstated, like everything about him. Saviour of the Wizarding world my arse. He’s just a boy, intelligent and observant I will acquiesce, but just a boy. My earlier attempts were foiled by his keen sense of his surroundings. I’d come before, with hopes of ruining their carefully tended plants by leaving the doors to those blasted glass buildings open. The boy showed up and got suspicious and locked the doors on me. That’s when I knew my task would require something more elaborate. This time I didn’t stop with the buildings full of their seedlings, oh no. What good would that do? They’d just put everything back, like they did at that nasty Muggle brewery of theirs. It should have taken them weeks if not months to repair the damage I’d done. Instead, they got everything repaired, reordered and were able to re-open right after the holidays. All those magical friends of his, coming to his aide quickly. What did he ever do to inspire such loyalty? The papers said he ran away when the war got too close. Why did they still respect him? As satisfying as the fire in the greenhouses was, I wanted more to be ruined. I ignited the remains of the crops in the fields. Sure, the fields benefited from the decay of the previous year’s plants; but they also made for excellent kindling. Quickly the fire spread about the ploughed ground. See if those crops grow as well on the burned dirt. The last building to be given a spark was that stupid brewery they kept on site. Honestly, what a ridiculous thing! It just sat there so she could experiment! The old woman even let her do it, she encouraged the changes around here. The whispers about her, about what she did to this place just before she died. It was truly an embarrassment. Then again, nothing was truly as it had once appeared. I hated what that little building stood for, hence its place of honour in tonight’s festivities. I wanted to enjoy its demise. I was nearly caught by the red-headed man as he went searching for her. She was off bawling in the darkness, as if the opaque of the night somehow hid her distress. Perhaps she was plagued with distress over her choice of spouses? If I’d been caught, I don’t know if he would have put the pieces together. Would he know it was I who had been laying siege against that idiotic business? He was as clueless as I suspected, which was for the best. I am not ready to reveal myself, yet. Maybe I never will. I just want the travesty destroyed. Honestly, could she have married any farther beneath her station without being wed to a Muggle? At least Black came from a respectable family, had wealth enough to spare; Weasley had neither. Black’s political views were strange, to say the least, but he was of her station. It didn’t surprise me to find she was already pregnant when they wed last spring. Probably the only way he could have snared such a well-off wife. She appeared to be in love. She appeared happy. Stupid things to put above your place in society. If her marriage wasn’t bad enough, the boy then had to go and marry the youngest of those blood traitors. I’d never considered Arthur to be a social climber. Perhaps he had taught his children well? When setting the fires, I was careful to miss the house. The original house. I wouldn’t burn it down, for it held too much sentimental value. That new bit the old woman put on, it could go. Honestly, a ‘family room’? How very American of her. Traditional families had no need for such a place. We played our card games in our drawing rooms, music in our conservatories. Women chatted in their own parlours while gents enjoyed their drinks, cigars and conversations in the gentleman’s lounge or the library. Family was not meant to gather together and carry on their various activities and conversations simultaneously. If the addition to the home was levelled, there would be no remorse from me. In the few minutes I’d been watching, the fire had spread magnificently. Searing fingers of flame would reach outward and upward, flicking and caressing anything which was near, dragging them into a ruinous dance. Bottles of their vile liquid must have been stored in what was once the barn, as I heard popping and shattering noises. Hmm, shrapnel, that was an unexpected gift. The man reached the house first, though she was not far behind. While I didn’t wish their children ill, if they’d perished they would have simply been collateral damage. I wasn’t someone who should have been crossed. The house-elf suddenly appeared in the lawns across the gravel path which was used for the car and motorbike. What sort of witch or wizard drove Muggle vehicles? The elf had Apparated herself and Black’s bastard out. She was followed by a woman I didn’t know, but given her age and how the child hugged her, I surmised she was a nanny or someone to the like. The elf quickly Disapparated, much to my surprise. She reappeared first, an infant in her arms. The little boy ran to her, tears streaking his face as he embraced his mother. The child was three, he should already know to keep his emotions to himself. Obviously she was failing in her bringing him up according to his station. The man she’d married joined them, holding the other infant in his arms. He handed the baby to the other woman, and pulled his wand and began an attempt to douse the growing fire. She pulled her wand as well, but rather than joining her spouse, she shot something out of her wand and sent it sailing into the night. The action was perplexing. The elf reappeared, a fine looking chest in her hands. The box appeared nearly the same size as the elf, and I couldn’t imagine how she was carrying it. She thanked her elf, miniaturised the chest and slid it into the pocket of her trousers. The elf took the baby from her and, together with the nanny, they Disapparated. She went and began helping her husband. The pair was quick with their spells, gaining control over the fire which had engulfed the old barn. I now wished I’d used magical fire, as these flames were unprotected against the spells they were sending at it. It seemed as if they gained control rather quickly. Before they had even begun to address the greenhouses, more red heads suddenly appeared. Dressed in their nightclothes, they quickly began their own spellwork to end the inferno. The tallest one quickly went to the house and began chanting protection spells. While there would be smoke damage and some exterior damage to it, the house would be spared, the cursed addition remaining. More people arrived, and began assisting. Who they were and how they knew confused me. I didn’t know she had so many who would come to her assistance. I’d seen enough for now, accomplishing my goal for the night. The demise of the addition was a lofty aspiration I would have considered a thrilling gift, had it occurred, though I never expected it. What would this latest episode garner in my quest? I secretly adored the probability of her finally restoring respectability to her name and the property. She and the boy had besmirched their upbringing long enough. I would do whatever was required to make sure the embarrassing business was destroyed. In the distance I glimpsed the home under construction; another mortification added to her family name. Not wanting to be noticed, I flew to another tree further away from the people scurrying from here to there. They reminded me of a swarm of ants. I tended to step on such disgusting congregations when I saw them on the sidewalk. Spells which could produce similar results passed through my mind with glee. I exercised restraint due to my not wanting the attention such an act would garner. With one last satisfying glance I flew into the night sky with no one the wiser. |
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