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Hollow Ash | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts Characters:Harry/Ginny, Neville Longbottom, Other Genres: Drama Warnings: Dark Fiction, Death, Disturbing Imagery, Extreme Language, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Sexual Situations, Spouse/Adult/Child Abuse, Violence, Violence/Physical Abuse Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 131 Summary: When a mysterious woman comes to the Auror office claiming to be the victim of a terrible crime, Theia and Harry want to do everything they can to help her. The problem is, she has no memory of what has happened. As they piece together the sinister events, their own troubles and traumas rise to the surface, causing them to question who they really are. Sequel to The Aurors. Hitcount: Story Total: 41628; Chapter Total: 1878 Awards: View Trophy Room |
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He had bid goodnight to Ben, and the fire had burnt down to embers, but Harry stayed in his armchair, the dregs of his tea now cold. ‘Are you coming to bed?’ asked Ginny, lumbering over. He smiled up at her and placed a hand on her stomach. Nothing happened. ‘I was hoping to feel a kick again.’ ‘Baby’s gone to sleep,’ she said. ‘It’s late.’ ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ll be right up.’ She perched on the arm, or rather, attempted to. They both laughed softly as she overbalanced and ended up falling heavily into his lap, slightly winding him. ‘Can you really be comfortable like this?’ ‘It was much easier before I was the size of a erumpent,’ she admitted. ‘Come on then, out with it.’ ‘Hm?’ ‘Whatever’s bothering you.’ He sighed. ‘Do you think Theia is prejudiced?’ She laughed. ‘Eh? Theia? Bloody hell, I thought you were going to tell me some disturbing new development on the case.’ ‘It’s just she said something about keeping the two worlds separate as a reason for not considering-’ Harry jabbed a finger upwards, gesturing to the bedroom in which Ben was sleeping. ‘I’m sure it’s not like how you’re thinking,’ said Ginny. ‘But it is quite a… dedication to start seeing a muggle. It can all get very messy. So I’ve heard,’ she added with a teasing grin. ‘But he already knows it all and has done a decent job of just rolling with it,’ said Harry. ‘I don’t see what the problem would be at all.’ ‘Well her mum was a muggle, wasn’t she? I know she got frustrated sometimes with her mum not really understanding everything. It’s hard to have one foot in one world and the other in a completely different one.’ ‘I managed,’ said Harry, slightly insulted. ‘Did you though?’ asked Ginny, and though she was still smiling, there was something more gentle behind her eyes. ‘I’ve told you this before, we can’t use you as an example of how to cope with things.’ He rubbed her stomach again absentmindedly. ‘I just thought it would do her good. Cheer her up a bit.’ Ginny tutted and rolled her eyes playfully. ‘Merlin.’ ‘What?’ ‘That’ll solve it. Nevermind grief and trauma, what you need is a boyfriend.’ ‘Well all I needed was you,’ he said, leaning in to kiss her. She kissed him back, her hand reaching into his hair, but they couldn’t get any closer because of her massive stomach. ‘Shit!’ she growled. She glared down at her stomach. ‘How much longer, eh?’ Harry was chuckling, that warm, loving feeling lifting his spirits again, and after untangling themselves they retired to bed, leaving the embers of the fire to glow orange in the dark of the living room. ……………….. They rose early the next morning, the last of the spring mist still being burnt off by the sun, the sound of the lambs in the nearby field echoing through the air. Ben was was to return home after their chat with Simon, so he had his battered suitcase with him, clunking down the stairs. ‘D’you want help with that?’ asked Ginny. ‘I’m not getting a pregnant woman to carry this, thanks all the same though, love,’ he said. ‘I meant with magic.’ ‘Oh, right, yeah.’ She smiled at him. ‘I’ll miss having you around, Ben, you’ve made life a bit more interesting.’ ‘Well let me know if you’ve ever up in Lancashire, won’t you?’ ‘Of course.’ They embraced, and then the case floated easily alongside him as he and Harry stepped out into the frosty air. ‘Last time,’ Harry promised him. Ben nodded and looked over his shoulder back at the house. ‘I’ve enjoyed my time at Sparrow Cottage,’ he told Harry. ‘It’s been weird, but thank you.’ ‘You’re welcome any time,’ said Harry pleasantly. He held out his arm. Ben took a breath. ‘Here we go,’ he said. He grasped Harry’s arm, and the sheep in the nearby field scattered in fright as an almighty crack sounded through the air. …………….. It was not the Loney they arrived at, but Ben’s back garden. Harry, who had only briefly been here once before when instructing Ben to gather his things, took the time to take it in as Ben vomited. It was your standard ex-council house, or perhaps still council. The pebble-dashed walls and cheap PVC windows signaling to the world that whoever lived here earned very little, if they earned at all. But, it had a long, narrow garden, and a good view out the back of the fells, and Ben had clearly cared for it well. Behind the window were pots of herbs, and the lawn, while not as perfectly manicured as the Dursleys’, was neat. As though reading his thoughts, Ben straightened up and said, ‘you don’t get much on a copper’s salary round here.’ ‘It’s nice,’ said Harry. ‘Don’t lie. Come on, I’ll make you a cuppa before we get going.’ The kitchen was bright and clean, filled with glass jars of sugar and flour and spices and currants, everything a novice baker would want. It occurred to Harry that it had been a long time since he had been in the muggle world - to him, everything was frozen in his Aunt’s old fashioned kitchen the early nineties, so even things as mundane as the toaster and kettle looked more high-tech than he remembered, and the living room had a flat screen tv that Dudley could have only dreamed of. But what really caught his eye was the trendy jukebox, the kind that could play vinyls, of which there were many piled up beside it. The walls, too, were adorned with framed vinyls and posters of old blues and jazz musicians, evidence of a deeply held and long-lasting love of music. ‘Who’re you listening to at the moment?’ Harry asked, wandering over to the jukebox. ‘Sammy Davis Junior,’ said Ben cheerfully. ‘Mind you, I was enjoying some of the stuff your wife was playing. Shame I can’t get any of that.’ ‘We have vinyl,’ said Harry vaguely. ‘I’m sure I could lend you some, if you kept it on the down low.’ They drank their tea, after which they changed into muggle police uniforms and Ben dumped his suitcase on his bed, the pair of them briefly going over the plan for talking to Simon and his mother. Soon they were walking down into the old part of the village, back to where the buildings were quaint sandstone and the roads were cobbles. Simon and his mother were clearly more well-to-do than Ben; though their terraced cottage was small, it had character and was well placed on the main square - when Mrs Phelps opened the door, she did so with a loud acknowledgment that she had been expecting them. Harry knew that, like his aunt, Lindsey Phelps would be appalled if anyone thought that the police were visiting her without being expressly summoned. They soon found themselves sat in a tidy living room with fashionably distressed leather sofas, little Simon sitting awkwardly on the edge, staring at the plastic dinosaur in his hands. His mother loitered at the door, her arms folded and frowning in concern. ‘He hasn’t been right ever since,’ she had whispered to them as they entered. ‘Only he won’t tell us what happened.’ ‘I bet you’re glad to have your bike back, aren’t you, Simon?’ said Ben cheerfully. Simon nodded, still gazing down at his dinosaur toy. Harry thought he must have been ten at the most, with a thin face that hadn’t quite grown into his ears yet, and a scab just visible through the hole on the knees of his jeans. ‘You lost it quite far away from home. All the way near the Loney.’ ‘I know I’m not s’posed to go there,’ Simon mumbled. ‘Why?’ asked Harry. ‘They’re all… Well they’re all a bit odd over there, aren’t they?’ said Mrs Phelps uneasily. ‘I wouldn’t want to be alone near that Oeric Swindlehurst, much less let any kids near him.’ ‘Well we’re not here to tell you off about that,’ said Ben kindly. ‘I was just wondering why you went all that way.’ The boy went very red. ‘It’s good cycling round there.’ ‘Oh, I can believe it. But all the fells are good for cycling. Why there specifically?’ Blushing even harder, and now turning the toy over and over in his hands, Simon squeaked out, ‘’Cos that’s where my secret place is.’ ‘I used to have a secret place out on the fells too,’ said Ben. ‘What’s yours like?’ The boy didn’t answer, he seemed quite tearful. So Harry chipped in. ‘I don’t know this area at all, I’m new round here. Could you tell me about it? I’d like to have a secret place.’ ‘I reckon it must be the highest bit of the whole fells,’ Simon blurted out. ‘You’ve gotta dodge the crags and caves, and go over the stream-’ ‘Oh, Si, I told you not to do that without us there,’ said Mrs Phelps, with great exasperation. ‘What if you fell? None of us would be able to find you!’ ‘I’d love a cup of tea, Mrs Phelps,’ said Ben suddenly. She narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m not leaving. I read up on this sort of thing, he has to have a parent with him if you’re going to question him.’ ‘He’s not under suspicion of anything,’ said Ben calmly. ‘Anyway, Harry’s from social services and can act as an appropriate adult.’ Harry was impressed with the smoothness of the lie, and with a longing, scared sort of look Mrs Phelps seemed to accept it, and slip quietly out of the room. ‘That sounds like a fun place,’ said Harry. ‘Lots of caves to explore.’ ‘You can’t really go in ‘em,’ said Simon. ‘Cos you could get stuck and sometimes they fill with water. But I look for monsters in ‘em.’ ‘Seen any?’ ‘No, not yet. But Ricky from school swears he saw a bat the size of a car in one of ‘em.’ ‘I see,’ said Harry, making a mental note to have a word with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. ‘So that’s what you were doing, was it? Looking for monsters? I suppose you can’t take your bike with you peering into caves.’ ‘I just wanted to go up to the top really, I didn’t think I would see any monsters. And no, I had to leave it by the stream,’ said Simon. ‘Near the big tree?’ asked Ben. Suddenly Simon went very quiet, and simply shook his head. They waited, but the excitement of the caves and the monsters was gone, and Simon said nothing. ‘So where did you leave it?’ prompted Ben. ‘The other side of that big crag. Then I climbed up to the top, ‘cos there’s a big old stone up there.’ ‘And what did you do up there?’ ‘Nothin’.’ Simon glanced nervously toward the door his mother had gone through. Harry looked down and saw that his fist was gripping onto his dinosaur so tightly that his knuckles were white. ‘Could you not find your bike again? Is that how you lost it?’ asked Ben. Simon’s lip wobbled. ‘It’s all right, Si,’ Ben assured him. ‘I didn’t do owt wrong.’ ‘I know you didn’t, we’re not saying you did.’ The hands were twisting around the dinosaur’s neck; Simon’s voice had become whimpering. He couldn’t seem to look them in the eyes, and was fixed on the door. ‘I was just gonna sit up there for a bit, maybe scratch my name into the stone again.’ ‘And then what happened, Simon? Did something happen?’ ‘I heard a cow.’ Harry and Ben stared at each other. Whatever they were expecting to hear, it certainly wasn’t that. The very memory of hearing a cow seemed to cause Simon to tremble, tears were now sliding down his cheeks. ‘A cow?’ ‘I thought it was. I could hear it mooing and groaning. But then it sounded like a voice. I went to look over the edge of the crag, but I couldn’t see it because… because of the tree.’ ‘The ash tree?’ Harry asked. Simon stopped his crying briefly to blink at him. ‘That big tree by the stream. I was right above it.’ ‘That’s the one,’ said Ben. ‘So then what, Simon? What happened then?’ Simon sniffed and looked back down at his dinosaur. ‘Couldn’t see properly because of the branches, but it was people. People in black dresses with hoods.’ ‘How many people, Simon?’ asked Harry, leaning forward. His heart was thumping with adrenaline. He knew how close he was to answers. ‘I’m not sure. There was the one making all the noise. I think it was a lady lying on the ground, I could see her legs and then…’ Simon gulped, and let out a shuddering breath. ‘She had a baby.’ ‘How could you tell?’ Harry asked carefully. ‘Could you see it?’ ‘No. But I heard it crying. And then the lady was asking if it was a boy or a girl.’ The door opened quietly and Mrs Phelps slipped back in, balancing a tray of tea on her hip. Harry felt a flash of angry frustration, but resisted shouting at her to leave again. Simon was looking uneasy again, avoiding his mother’s gaze. ‘Thanks Lindsey,’ said Ben. ‘Simon’s being very helpful. Would you mind if we had a bit longer with him?’ ‘I’ll just be over here,’ she said politely, but it was clear that she was not going to leave the room. She sat in the stylish armchair in the corner, clutching her mug of tea and watching them nervously. Ben turned back to Simon. ‘So, did anyone answer her?’ Simon shook his head. ‘They were ignoring her.’ ‘How many is “they”, Simon?’ asked Harry. ‘I know you couldn’t see clearly but could you take a guess?’ ‘I could hear some people whispering,’ said Simon, almost whispering himself. ‘And one person start… saying weird things.’ ‘Weird things?’ Simon looked awkwardly at his mum, then back to Ben. ‘Made up words. Like spooky spells.’ ‘They must have been foreign,’ said Mrs Phelps, still looking cautiously concerned. ‘Maybe,’ said Harry. ‘What did it sound like, Simon?’ Simon shifted uneasily. ‘I don’t know. It just sounded funny. And scary. And then… And then…’ He burst into tears. Mrs Phelps was crying too now, Harry could see her leaning forward in her chair, close to rushing over to her son. ‘Take your time, Simon,’ said Ben. ‘You’ll think I’m stupid,’ the boy howled. ‘We won’t,’ Harry assured him. ‘The wind came really strong all of a sudden, it blew all the clouds away,’ babbled Simon. The dinosaur fell to the floor with a clatter as he threw his hands over his face. ‘Then the foreign person was talking louder and louder and the lady what had had the baby was screaming, and a man was shouting too saying no, I think, I couldn’t hear ‘cos of the wind, and then suddenly there was lots of light coming from the tree-’ ‘What colour light?’ asked Harry quickly. ‘I dunno, normal light, bright, coming upwards, an’ I could see the people dragging the screaming lady away, and then… and then…’ he sobbed even harder. Ben placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder until he gave a great shuddering breath. ‘An’ then through the branches I saw a horrid old witch!’ His wail was almost impossible to understand, such was terrified emotion of it, but Harry recognised instantly the same pale, wide-eyed horror that had smothered Theia when she had seen Alma Swindlehurst out at night. ‘Oh god,’ squeaked Mrs Phelps. ‘Sweetie!’ She rushed over to him and embraced him to her breast, where he shuddered and sobbed and she kissed the top of his head. She rocked him gently and looked helplessly at Ben and Harry. ‘I don’t know what he saw,’ she said. ‘Some kind of satanic ritual or something, but he’s terrified! Look at him!’ ‘I understand,’ said Harry quietly. ‘Simon, you’re being very brave. You’ve shown lots of courage. But I must ask you to show me a little more, and tell me what happened next.’ The boy sniffed, and turned to look at Harry from between his mother’s arms, his face tear stained, eyes pink against his deathly white face. ‘She didn’t see me, but I saw her face all wrinkled and scary,’ he whispered. ‘And she was talking in that language and everyone was still shouting and screaming, and then I couldn’t see what she was doing, but she was talking at the tree, and then the lady screamed even louder-’ ‘What did she scream?’ ‘I don’t know, she just screamed. It was horrible.’ ‘It must have been. You’re doing really well, Simon.’ Simon was crying so much that his nose was running; a snot bubble burst over his lip as he wailed, and Harry’s heart broke for him. ‘I was really scared an’ thought they might kill me, so I ran away. I didn’t even remember my bike, just ran all the way back home.’ ‘Sweetie, why didn’t you tell me?’ asked Mrs Phelps. ‘I dunno. I was too scared.’ ‘That’s normal,’ Harry assured her gently. ‘Kids often keep things to themselves.’ ‘It all sounds so bizarre,’ said Mrs Phelps. ‘Horrifying. Will the press be called? God knows what they were doing.’ Ben shot a panicked look at Harry, who simply said, ‘I’ll see to that in time, Mrs Phelps. For now, do you think either of you know exactly when this happened.’ ‘Well, you lost your bike on that day off school, didn’t you, Si?’ she said, looking down at him. ‘It was teacher training day and you were off out all day, and it wasn’t til the next day your bike was missing.’ Simon hesitated, then nodded slowly. ‘I’ll still have the school letter with the exact date on somewhere,’ she said. ‘Let me get it - I’ll be right back, Sweetie.’ She kissed him again, then hurried back to the kitchen. Now calming down, Simon wiped his snotty nose on the sleeve of his jumper, looking around anxiously. Harry picked up the dinosaur, and gave it to him. ‘Simon,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Is there anything else? Anything at all you can remember?’ The little boy gulped. ‘I reckon that baby died, didn’t it?’ ‘What makes you say that?’ ‘I just know it,’ he wimpered. ‘Simon, the language you heard, can you remember any bits of it, or what it sounded like?’ Simon looked frightened, and his eyes darted around the room as he tried to remember. ‘Were there any words that sounded like avada kedavra, or crucio, or-’ ‘No, not like that,’ Simon said. ‘It were like singing.’ ‘Singing?’ The boy nodded tearfully. He opened his mouth as though to say something else, but fell silent as his mother returned. ‘Here,’ she said, holding a crumpled letter. ‘Monday the seventeenth of February. He was off all day.’ ‘Thank you,’ said Ben. ‘You’ve both been very helpful.’ ‘What happens now?’ Mrs Phelps asked. ‘He’s clearly witnessed something funny, and we all know those lot in the Loney fancy themselves Pagans or something-’ ‘We’ll talk to our superiors at once,’ said Harry kindly. ‘And I will make sure this is resolved for you and your son as soon as possible.’ He rose, and Ben followed suit, ruffling Simon’s hair as he went. ‘Thanks Si,’ he said. ‘I’ll be in touch soon, all right?’ As they said their goodbyes and Mrs Phelps ushered them out the door, nobody noticed Harry placing the police hat Ben had leant him on the arm of the chair. When the front foor had shut, he walked with Ben a little way back towards his house, his brain whirring. ‘What do we do now?’ Ben asked. ‘We can’t tell them the truth, can we, and we’re meant to keep it all very secret, if she’s going to be talking to the press-’ ‘We have an entire department dedicated to creating cover stories,’ Harry said. ‘They’re very experienced. It’ll be fine.’ Ben snapped his fingers. ‘Aliens.’ Harry laughed. ‘Yes, we’ve been behind a few of those. I was listening on the wireless about a punk wizard rave just before I was born, in some random forest in Suffolk, and-’ he swore. ‘What?’ asked Ben, alarmed. ‘Forgot the flipping hat.’ ‘Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ll drop in next time I’m passing.’ ‘Nah, it’s all right, I’ll go back and get it and then magic it to yours. I should probably head straight to the Ministry after that anyway. I’ll catch up with you soon, all right?’ ‘All right. I’ll have a think about who the others Simon might have seen are.’ ‘Good idea,’ said Harry. ‘I’ll come over this afternoon.’ ‘Excellent. Cheerio,’ said Ben happily, and he continued on, blissfully unaware. Harry returned to the Phelps family home, and knocked on the door. Mrs Phelps looked worried, confused, but he gave a bashful smile and said, ‘I’m a plonker, forgot my hat,’ and she let him in without question. She followed him through to the living room, and barely had time to react when he spun on the spot and pointed his wand at her. ‘Obliviate,’ he said, and she blinked in a dazed way, and shuffled off to the kitchen. He watched her leave, and then called for Simon. The stairs rubbled with his footsteps, and then the little boy, as confused as his mother had been, came into the living room, dinosaur in hand. ‘Did you catch them already-?’ A vacant expression slid easily over his face as Harry cast the spell, the dinosaur dropped with a thud onto the carpet. ‘I’d like to be a police officer,’ he said dreamily, and then he picked up his toy and returned upstairs. Harry then quietly left. The Phelps family would never remember anything more exciting than Ben and a trainnee police officer bringing home Simon’s bike. No doubt some naughty kids from Botton Head had nicked it. For years to come, Simon Phelps would feel a great unease when he passed through the Loney, and, decades into the future, his wife would forever hold a grudge about his inability to stay in the delivery room when she gave birth to their child. ‘I couldn’t stand it,’ he would tell her. ‘The noises you were making. I felt scared.’ ‘You areshole,’ she would respond. ‘How do you think I felt?’ Neither Simon nor his parents could ever explain the trauma that troubled him, because as far as they were aware, he had never experienced any trauma at all. ……. ‘I didn’t expect to find you here,’ Harry called. Theia only turned her head slightly; he could see that she had heard him, but he could only see a sliver of her pale white face as she stood in front of the ash tree. He walked over and stood beside her. She turned back to stare solemnly at the gnarled branches. ‘Ben and I just interviewed little Simon Phelps,’ said Harry. ‘I think he may have seen some dark magic ritual here.’ He told her everything that Simon had said, and she listened, her face stony and unmoving, unsurprised. ‘Yes,’ she said at last. ‘I think I know the ritual.’ ‘You do?’ She looked back at the tree, the wisps of her hair dancing in the cold wind. ‘I read something in one of the books from Hogwarts… And then I went back there, this morning, to the restricted section.’ She paused, her eyes fixed on the clefted fork of the tree, where the trunk split into branches like outstretched fingers. ‘It’s from the earliest wizards. Before wands and Hogwarts. Before proper spells even. Before all the secrecy. Ash trees could heal, and they could be tied to people. Or they could absorb or move sickness.’ Harry looked at her. ‘Derwent’s disease. That’s what it looked like on the baby. Could someone have-?’ She tore her eyes away from the tree and looked at him. ‘Maybe. The baby could have been the sacrifice needed to save another. Early magic often needed blood in that way.’ ‘But why use Marcy’s baby?’ asked Harry, heartbroken. ‘Instead of taking whoever was ill to St Mungo’s, or-’ ‘Ancient magic can do things we can’t anymore,’ said Theia. ‘Bring life from death, escape death entirely…’ Harry remembered how afraid Marcy had been of him, a survivor because of his mother’s own sacrifice, her unwitting call upon ancient love magic. ‘They must have used her,’ Theia said. ‘All her life.’ ‘Simon saw the old woman doing the ritual,’ said Harry. ‘But there were others with Marcy.’ Theia said nothing. She looked back at the tree. ‘Ornella’s son, Raffi,’ said Harry suddenly. ‘He’d be the right age for Derwent’s disease to start showing. And you remember what she said? About her other son?’ ‘Ascelin’s just a few months old, he doesn’t come into it,’ Theia echoed. ‘So Raffi would.’ The scale of it all seemed to hit Harry all it once, a deep disturbance as he realised. ‘This will have been going on for years,’ he said. ‘Handed down the generations.’ Theia nodded solemnly. ‘No one knows old magic like that anymore. The books couldn’t describe it.’ ‘The whole village was destroyed by dragon pox,’ said Harry hollowly, thinking of the abandoned houses on the edge of the Loney. ‘All of them. Except for the Swindlehursts.’ ‘They protected themselves with ancient magic,’ said Theia. ‘But I think so much would have come with murder.’ She looked down at the ground. ‘Connie. The girl that was buried here too. Perhaps she was a sacrifice.’ They knew they had to arrest them, so why were they standing here? The ash tree was a quiet place, the great crag above it stopping all but a few shards of light from falling through the branches, the stillness of it all broken by the slight bubbling of the creek behind them. It was strange that they were grasping a moment of peace here, somewhere they knew horrific things had happened. But then it was very beautiful, and they were so very tired. ‘Are you going to call them then?’ Theia asked at last. ‘I think you should,’ said Harry. ‘You worked it out. This is your case.’ She was still again for perhaps another minute or two, before finally calling the Aurors for help, with a quiet, whispered, ‘Mayday.’ |
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